Remembering the Kingston Trio

    Maybe it's a generational 'thing'.  A few days ago, a client and  I were talking  about his favorite musical genre and  groups.  When he asked about the groups  that  were popular  when I was his age, I mentioned The Kingston Trio.  I may as well have named something like 'The Neanderthal Nine' or 'The Medieval Hit Parade'.

   What were some of their 'hits', he asked. When I named the Immortal (to my generation) titles of Tom Dooley, The MTA, and Worried Man,  no recognition registered.

   I remembered that conversation this afternoon  when  I was mindlessly scrolling  YouTube and came across  a video of a reunion concert recorded in 1982.  For the next hour or so, I was transported to an earlier time in my life.

   Wikipedia indicates that the original KT "helped launch the folk revival of the late 1960's." There have been various iterations of the group throughout the intervening years.  All the original members ---Dave Guard, Nick Reynolds and Bob Shane ---are deceased but until last year  (and maybe still) a  group has bought the rights to the name and continue to tour.

   I first attended a live concert in Greensboro in the Spring of 1959 when the Trio had become popular.  A fraternity brother and I double-dated (do college  folks still do that?)to attend their tour stop and UNC-Greensboro. Forty years later, Reynolds and Shane and George Grove, returned to Greensboro.  Before the concert, a stage hand brought out a single chair.  In a moment, Reynolds came on using a walker (apparently having had surgery). Before sitting , he surveyed the audience  and quipped, "Damn, you've gotten old!"

  In the intervening years, I attended at least two other concerts. The first  occurred in  Winston-Salem but the more memorable was their gig in the small North Carolina  city of Sanford. My brother and his family and I sat in the second row, perhaps twenty yards from the performers.  This performance came thirty + years since their beginning. In those years, one of the group had added girth to his frame. My brother in the colloquial jargon whispered to me, "Shane is totin' a load". 

    If your generational cohort is similar to mine and you enjoyed the KT or  if you are like the aforementioned  person who had no acquaintance, many YouTube videos await you and  you likely will be able to understand the words. And for  us 'old timers', enjoy  Bob Shane's  version of  Try to Remember.

    Satchel

       

QUIT BEING UGLY !!

 

      

Did you see the news video ...the gathering of politicians which was met by a group of reporters?  Soon  Representative  Virginia Foxx  was shouting "Shut up ! Shut up!"  to one questioning reporter.  The Charlotte  Observer opinion columnist  Isaac Bailey wrote that she "behaved like an 8-year-old on the national stage." He continued, "If Foxx had any political integrity, or integrity of any kind, she would not have shouted 'Shut up !. . . Instead, she joined in with fellow Republicans hissing, booing and unleashing childlike taunts."

  Some would say that she was being "ugly" and  that would not refer to her lack of physical beauty.  Ugly according to my dictionary means things like: disagreable, unpleasant, nasty, offensive, rude and quarrelsome.  Telling someone to "shut up" is generally considered  rude and impolite. Rather like the opposite of being civil or courteous/polite.

Edwin Newman, the late NBC reporter, observed that "the state of the language is a direct reflection of the country".   While his two books, A Civil Tongue and Strictly Speaking, addressed the deterioration of correct usage of speech, evidence abounds for the deterioration of civil discourse --- particularly among politicians and some purported Christians. Inflammatory words and images are tossed around with so much frequency that such coarseness has become the norm. Add to that recipe ad hominem or personal attacks against the character and integrity of those of differing opinions, and the result likely will be today's headline.UGLY !

Perhaps I am being a Pollyanna  to long for discourse , public and private, marked by sentiments and behaviors conveying qualities such as decency, honesty, truth, goodness, respect, integrity, kindness, civility. . . Did a former United States President keep his promise of "I will never lie to you."? Then there was a former Press Secretary who famously told reporters "I will never lie to you. You have my word on that." and immediately violated her promise.  There is often a wide space between  FACT and  OPINION.t

 There exists a strong temptation to disengage, to turn away  when the rhetoric becomes too coarse. In the face of that, I want to resist UGLY and speak with a civil tongue .

  Satchel

  

  

WHAT'S NEW ?

  this font is Rock Salt.  Seems appropriate when evening newscasters show pictures of road crews spreading Salt brine on roadways in anticipation of inclement weather.. has happened only a couple of times this month here in North Carolina. My brother in New Hampshire already has had a couple of "snow events".   January with its cold is almost half over  ; So, a question: how are you doing with your new year's resolutions ?

  I noticed that "Quitting  Day" occurred a few days ago. That  is the presumed date by which new Year's resolutions become discards.

So far, I am sticking with mine:  "make no new Year's resolutions". How are You doing with yours ?

   Just for fun, i did an internet search for the topic.  The most common one (not surprisingly ) pertains to improving  fitness (48%), followed by Improving finances and improving mental health. If i were making one, i 

like "Read more books". Having completed just two, glad i did not commit to that one. The thought of snuggling by the fireside with a good book  on a snowy day does sound alluring .

   Given the 'Fall off the wagon'  outcome for sticking to well-intended January 1st goals,  it's a fair question as to whether  any change can occur.  As a therapist, I am often asked if someone (usually the person asking  the question) can "change".  The quick answer  is that I have witnessed Change and that if i didn't think it possible, at my age, i would not be a therapist. HOWEVER . . . and it's a big  'however' . . . it usually is not quick nor effortless.

   'Transformation'  differs greatly from 'change'. According  to an internet source :"Change is usually a response to something and happens gradually, while transformation  is a deliberate and significant shift".  Don't hear  a  lot about New Year's transformations.

  I have noticed that this font does not make for easy  reading ,  so I am making  a significant  shift:  Never again will i use Rock Salt as a font for the blog .

    HAPPY NEW YEAR !

       Satchel

OUT OF THE DARK

 

                                

                                                          December 24, 2023

 The ocean expanse, the sunlight dramatically breaking out of clouds . . .My initial thought: "it looks like electricity overcoming the profound darkness". Seems to me it has the elements of a metaphor. A metaphor has to do with meaning, surplus meaning and not factuality. The fact here is a sunrise over the Atlantic.

   Isaiah, a Jewish prophet, spoke of  "a people who sit in darkness seeing a great light".  We have an abundance of "darkness" surrounding us in many manifestations ---wars, atrocities, hunger, climate crises, political, economic, fears ad nauseum

    Noting the Lukean narrative of Jesus's birth in Bethlehem, the long-ago Episcopal rector, Phillips Brooks wrote that "the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight". This year that city is devoid of traditional Christmas celebrations and "the hopes and fears" run rampant.

   With Isaiah's vision in mind, dare we hope  that the above picture can be a metaphor for LIGHT'S ultimately overcoming the Dark.

    Satchel

Are You (STILL) Hungry ?

This was first published just after Thanksgiving 2023.  Today, ( November 4, 2025), the President of the United States of America indicated that he will defy a Federal Judge's order to release SNAP  funds that would provide food for millions of Americans.  That in itself is cruel; but coming near Thanksgiving and Christmas as well as the onset of cold weather is deplorable.  Whatever the legal and political outcome of this immoral travesty, please do what you can to assure that none of our neighbors starve !

Well, Thanksgiving Day has come and gone.

Did you eat well ? And, in the next few weeks as Christmas comes near, there will be more feasting. At least for most of us who read and write this post.  Then there are the others.  You know, the folks for whom there will be no abundant food; rather meager fare will be their lot.

   While  it suits many of us well-fed ones to dismiss 'the others' as either lazy, 'sorry', substance abusers, and similar criticisms, the Deeper Reasons for Poverty and its sibling, Hunger, are not so simple. Sure, there are some whom others might call 'Freeloaders', I doubt many willingly seek hunger either for themselves or their children. Proposals  for the total elimination of hunger exceed my capacities  or purposes for this post. Rather, what can you and I do to alleviate hunger  (not just at 'charitable times') as an ongoing concern . 

    After all, there are compelling reasons--humanitarian, justice, religious, political--for involvement, at various levels.

    I collected an array of quotes expressing the importance, no, the Imperative to "feed the hungry".

  ."If you cannot feed a hundred people, then feed just one."  Unknown

  ."There's enough on this planet for everyone's needs but not for everyone's greed."   Gandhi

  ."Extreme poverty anywhere is a threat to human  society everywhere."    Kafi Annan, UN Sec General

  ."If I am hungry, that is a material problem, if someone else is  hungry, that is a spiritual  problem."

   Paul Farmer

 ."You pray for the  hungry. Then you feed them. This is how prayer works."   Pope Francis

  ."When I give food to the poor, they call me a saint. When I ask why the poor  has no  food, they call me   a communist."  Dom H. Camara

  ."When people were hungry, Jesus didn't  say, 'Now is that political or social?' He said, 'I feed you.' Because the Good News to a  hungry person is bread.                       Archbishop Desmond Tutu

  ."Hunger is not an issue of charity. It is an issue of Justice."                                                                       Jacques Dival

   The Bible contains over 2100 references to giving to and feeding the 'poor'.  In the Christian tradition, the lectionary reading for last Sunday was Jesus's parable about doing benevolent kindnesses even to those of  lowest  circumstance was the same as extending those to himself.

Here in our county, the outreach of the Food Bank has been joined by an organization called the Chatham Alliance (www.Chathamalliance.org).  Volunteers at its affiliate, The Chatham Chuckwagon,  weekly prepare, freeze and give  nutritious meals to members of the community free of charge.  You can see other aspects of their work on the website. 

    Chef Sera Cuni of Cafe Root Cellar used her $10,000 first place prize from a nationally televised    cooking competition to launch 'Feed Well Fridges'. She and Susan White and their volunteers salvage perfectly good foods that grocery stores would be required to discard.  They create nutritious miracles to address local food insecurity.  I strongly urge you to visit their website  www.feedwellfridges.org .  

   Are there similar outreach programs where you live to which you can offer assistance ?

    Bon appétit !

        Satchel

   

 

     

  

  .

   

"HANDLE WITH CARE" caught on camera

 

                 It was clearly marked "Fragile"!

                                   

   The package was "delivered" via "air" a few months ago. The company logo was clearly marked on his vehicle (visible on another photo).  Efforts to register a complaint with their 'customer service' resulted in numerous runarounds.

   With Christmas just a month away, shipping of gift packages is about to shift into overdrive. With the proliferation of security cameras, many 'porch pirates' have regretted their attempted thievery.

YouTube features videos of several interrupted episodes. Yet, many 'shoppers' have not been deterred.  A few years ago, we shipped Christmas goodies to family in a nearby urban center.  Sometime in January, hearing no acknowledgment, we inquired and were told the sad story of theft. 

  The fellow above was either unaware of the camera that caught his misconduct or just did not care. Fortunately, the package contents escaped breakage.

His apparent indifference contrasts markedly from the care the UPS driver exercised yesterday:

May all your packages be delivered with care and beyond the depravity of porch pirates.                   

Satchel

           

   

  

                                                         Old Man in the Sun

                                 

                                 Original art by Dominique Metreaud.  Used by permission.

 "To  be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring."                   George Santayana

    Some blog posts come quickly; others take a long time to 'marinate'. This one comes in the latter group.

I have the  sense that the time has come to see what emerges. The impetus to proceed came from reading a column that my 75 year old 'little brother'  recently wrote for the local weekly. A graduate of the Journalism School of the University of North Carolina as well as being a seminary graduate, he sometimes writes pretty profound ideas in his weekly column.. His  thoughts and mine  have to do with the 'Seasons of Life'.

    October's ushering Autumn onto the calendar has further stimulated my interest in life's transitions . . . and my place therein. This has long been my favorite month and it never lasts long enough. When, then, does Winter begin ? In one of his poems, Shel Silverstein lamented "must we always have Winter? Can't Springtime just stay? ...and some hair turn gray ...".  I would modify that to "Can't October just stay?" I've never heard anyone sing In The Good Old Wintertime.

   The later Bernard Baruch wrote of being in the 'Winter' of his life when in his 90's.  Earlier he had keenly noted that "to me old age is always fifteen years  older than  I am".  From  the vantage point of accumulated birthdays, some review of  'the past'  can  be helpful, as long as nostalgia  for the good old days does not distort perspective. The Brothers Four sang "Deep in December it's nice to remember although you know the snow will follow".  

    The calendar tells me that  I have had 85 birthdays with a 86th following soon (I hope). But I do not  'feel' old (except for an arthritic hip). An  article on PMCPubMedCentral cited research indicating  "older adults across many disparate countries, both Western and Eastern, share a surprisingly universal view that they feel younger than their chronological age. and this tendency is more pronounced with increasing age." I like these observations taken from that fount of knowledge, Wikipedia : "Old age is the range of ages for persons nearing and surpassing life expectancy . . . Old age is not a definite biological  stage: the chronological age denote as 'old age' varies culturally and historically". 

    I have good memories from the Seasons of my life ...important people, formative experiences of opportunities seized as well as disappointments, places travelled, etc. "Of all the sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these 'It might have been'".

Who said that? I don't remember.  I think it more important to live with integrity and purpose and grace in whatever 'season' we find ourselves, as per Santayana 's quote  above.

    How 'old' are you or as the original Satchel asked, "How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?"

  

        Satchel

 

 

   

A Little More of the Stuff You Can't Make Up . . .

    

 Bob died in 2015.  He had served as a United Methodist minister for over 40 years and was  remembered as one who ministered "with  overwhelming  compassion and  understanding." From 1958 when he transferred to our college and became a fraternity brother until his death, I counted him as one of my best friends. 

   As free of guile and  ill-intent as any human can be, Bob  had a unique talent for doing and/or saying stuff that was both humorous and perplexing.  I  heard my first 'Bob-ism' in 1958: "Contrary to popular opinion, God's last name is not Damn."  Asked if he intended to see the recently released movie The Ten Commandments, he replied that he had read the book.

   We who knew him still chuckle when we remember his plan to ride the train home to Charlotte. John drove him the 2 or 3 miles to the train station.  Sometime later, he was startled when Bob appeared at his dorm room.  "I was waiting to hear the conductor call 'All  Aboard'", as he explained how he had watched the train pull away from the platform.  His suitcase made it to Charlotte; he didn't.

    His first ministerial assignment was as Associate at a church in our college town. Years later many friends had gathered at his retirement home.  Among     those  present was the former Senior Minister and his demure wife. Bob told me how once in a staff meeting as he was sitting in a low rocker, he had accidentally rocked on his fingers.  "What did you say", I asked. "Oh, shucks", he answered. From across the room came her stern correction, "No, Bob. You said sh*t"."

   John asked Bob to preach at the baptismal service for his son. As John read the Scripture, Bob sat nearby, resting his chin with his arm propped on the arm of his chair.  Somehow he manage to slip and fell  to the floor right at John's feet.  Bob told me that years later, in another city, a woman approached him and  said, "I know you. You're the man who fell at the feet of our minister."

   Recently, John related a story that  I had not heard previously.  Once when  performing an infant baptism, as he took the child from the parents' arms something  went akimbo and Bob wound up baptizing the child on his bottom rather than the top of his head.

    Then there were the times he "put his foot in his mouth" while preaching but somehow maintained his composure.  He told me of the time that his point was commitment; his manuscript read "We don't need any half-hearted Christians". But that was not what  came out.  I asked  about the congregation's reaction. "I got  a couple of Amen's from the choir."  One Sunday he told those gathered "I'm  almost inclined  to call you a bunch of dumb-asses". Realizing that what he had said was not what he intended, he took a long pause, then continued, "Well, you are."  At the end of the service, a man told him, "Bob, you really told us; but you told us with a smile on your face."

   Did you know that Jerry was Mary's husband ? Neither did the congregation that heard Bob's reading  of the Christmas story as he consistently spoke of "Mary and Jerry . . ." After several repetitions of this, a woman in the choir whispered to him ,"It's Joseph". Reportedly Bob didn't miss a beat and opined that         Jerry was an ancient Hebrew name meaning Joseph.

    Most  everyone knows that Christmas floats across the various days of the week whereas Easter stays fixed on Sunday.  That little detail alluded Bob one year as he and his staff were doing advanced  planning. With total sincerity, he exclaimed to them that "Easter comes on Sunday this year !"

   These true snippets have been vouched for by my collaborator and fraternity brother, the Rev. John Davis. In no way are they told to belittle Bob. When  he realized the  absurdity of his comments, he was the first one to laugh and wonder 'where did that come from?'

    And you can't make up this stuff !

      Satchel

          

    

   

You can't make up stuff like this . . .

 

    "Truth is stranger than fiction" might be another way to express it.  Or, "I find it hard to believe that (s)he said such a thing !". Or, "I can't  believe what I just saw (or heard) ! "  The following really happened and were unplanned and unscripted.  You can't just 'make it up'!!

   The lake behind Chestnut Hill restaurant in North Myrtle Beach has been 'home' for alligators for many years.  One cold December day, a lady sitting at the window beside an alligator-less lake asked her waiter if the absent alligators had "already migrated South".  To his credit, the waiter maintained his composure. For us, at the next table, with great effort we  suppressed our impulse to laugh.  Later, we conjured up images of an alligator herd crawling down I-95 for their Winter in Florida.  You can't 'make up' questions like that.

    On vacation during a recent Halloween, we were concerned when our home security system detected motion near our front door.  When I activated the camera, I saw several large guys coming across our lawn, expressing several profane comments about the motion detector lights. When the leader rang the doorbell, I used the microphone on my device and made a blood curdling sound. More profanity.  One apparently late teen fellow lifted his mask and heard me say, "Smile, you are on candid camera." After a few more profanities and mutterings, they left and we said thanks for the security system.  Didn't see that one coming !

    Most graduation speeches prompt naps. Several years ago, a former faculty member kept our attention by relating humorous questions he had heard when  a part of our Faculty. One choice one: Taking a co-ed back to her home after babysitting, she asked in all seriousness, "Dr. Tucker, have you always been three years older than your wife?" Huh?

   Unexpected questions, comments and suggestions often garnish church conversations.  Replacing burned out light bulbs had become a frequent task. That prompted the 'suggestion' that we install new ones throughout the building at the same time. In that way, the 'suggest-er' maintained, they would all burn out simultaneously requiring only one change. The Maintenance Committee chose not to implement the idea.

   Weddings and funerals produce a constant source of 'head scratchers'.  I had seen many televised videos of brides and grooms passing out and other embarrassing moments.  None of that prepared me for the day when Keith turned ashen while saying his  vows. After rocking slightly on his heels, he fell backwards to the ground.  Though he regained consciousness immediately, he remained on the ground, unaware that his uncle was videoing the event for posterity.

    The late Art Linkletter's t.v. program. Kids Say the Darnedest Things, regularly demonstrated the accuracy of the title.  Walker was the first child that I ever baptized; then two years later, it was baby sister's  turn. In our tradition, infant baptism means applying water to the child's head. A few days after her baptism, I learned that big brother had inquired as to why "Ron had given Lisa a bath at church ".  After hearing the explanation of the event, he further contended that  "he didn't have to wash  her hair . Mom had already done that at home."

    One last 'true story': Kids playing 'army' proved dangerous when my 9 year old son scored a direct hit on his 7 year old brother's eye with a 'hand grenade' in the form of a magnolia pod.  This  occurred on a late Friday afternoon in the  town to which we had recently moved and knew no opthamologist. Finally, I located one in a nearby town and he examined the eye, applied medication and bandage. "Bring him back on Monday and we can determine if  the eye can be saved' made for a long weekend.  On Monday after he removed the bandage, the doctor asked Chris to read the  top line of the chart.  There followed long moments of the second grader shifting in the chair, squinting, and turning his head in various contortions. Asked a second time to read the letters, Chris in all seriousness said, "I can read it; I can't pronounce it."  And you can't make up that kind of answer.

   Satchel

THE Whistle and THE Whistler

 

       Neither of his three sons can replicate the sound. But we heard its distinctive lilt many times. Whistling, like singing, is something I do when no one else is within hearing distance. But his was not a 'tune'. Rather, he had a two note trill reserved primarily for summoning us from distances of at least a quarter of a mile.  At those times, the appropriate response was "Coming".

     I don't remember the first time that I heard it but it happened often in various occasions.  Many 'championship' basketball games occurred in the backyard of  Phil Tillerson's home.  A heavily wooded area separated his home and ours. Many of these late afternoon games terminated when from across the oaks and pines came the notes that told us that either the evening meal was ready or that our chores awaited.

   My PhD graduation occurred in cavernous Carmichael Auditorium at UNC-CH.  Dad and Mom found seats high in the 'nose bleed' area.  Each student received our diplomas individually, usually followed by hearty applause.  Above the noise, from far away, I heard "it" and knew it to be an expression of pride.

   When his middle son enrolled at UNC-CH, dad's weekly routine took him to the Metropolitan Insurance office in nearby Durham.  Consequently, my brother enjoyed the perk of weekly laundry service.  Once when dad came by, the roommate did not know his whereabouts, nor did anyone else.  So dad went out into the Quad and whistled.  Playing ping-pong in the dorm basement and with no foreknowledge of dad's presence, Dennis appeared below the transom and gave the usual response, "coming".

    The younger of my two brothers thinks that he may be able to imitate 'the whistle'.  But as  for  volume, he wrote. "No way." However, he likely is the last one to have heard it. 'It happened this way': he lived nearby to our parents but had not seen them for a few days prior to dad's death.  Now, my brother is "of sound mind" and not given to dramatics nor hyperbole.  As a minister, one Sunday morning he arrived early at the church.  Sitting in the silence and reflecting on recent events, he vowed that he heard the whistle. 

   Are you familiar with the terms 'thin places' and 'thin experiences' ? As much of a rational and cerebral person  I think myself to be, I believe that what my brother experienced was a 'thin experience' defined by one source as the "where the veil between this world and the eternal world is thin. . . where one can walk in two worlds ." (see Eric Weiner, "Where Heaven and Earth Come Closer Together",  The New York Times, March 9, 2012.)  Having had such fleeting experiences, I know these are not the domain of psychosis.  Nor do they belong just for the formally 'religious'.

   But this point is a digression.  "THE Whistle" is deeply ingrained in the memories of his three sons. Is there a  comparable sound stored away in your deepest self ?

     Satchel

     

     

    

"I didn't know that . . . "

         "  . . . holding your breath when around yellow jackets  will prevent your being stung "

     ". . . squirrels lick cement to compensate for a dietary deficiency "

    ". . . ultrasonic solar devices can sometime keep deer away from flowers "

    " . . . plant based vegan burgers taste as good as the 'real thing' "

   ". . . 'ignorance' is not necessarily the same as 'stupid' or 'aggressive ignorance' "

  ". . . "old dogs can learn new tricks."

   ". . . silence can sometimes be better than words "

   ". . . hearing is not the same as listening "

   ". . .  and what else ?

    

     Here is how  I learned (am learning) these bits of trivia and important insights:

    For several years we have found yellow jacket nests (holes) around our yard.  Efforts to remove them have been reasonably successful but we have not been certain we found their escape hole. Last week a friend lost a close encounter with one of those ill-tempered pests.  We called a pest exterminator who demonstrated that by holding our breath, no sting would occur. He further told us that he had learned that useful tidbit during his training and had never been stung.

 Our outdoor camera captured a squirrel licking    around downstair bricks. An internet search disclosed the info that doing so provided him needed minerals. There was a further suggestion to place a small salt lick near the area. Beats having the foundation eaten away.

   We have tried many deer repellents to protect daylillies and hosta and still lost most of this year's growth.  As one last effort, we have installed 8 ultrasonic devices near the foliage. Some emit an eerie noise; others project  sound waves beyond human hearing.  So far, results have proven successful. 

   Some day, my mischievous self  plans to serve plant-based vegan burgers to a 'nothing but beef' aficionado to test his taste buds. Mammalian meat is no longer an option for us. "Where's the beef?" has become an unnecessary inquiry when we savor these Beyond Burgers.

  Being 'ignorant' need not be a negative matter. After all, a dictionary defines the word like this:"lacking knowledge, information, or awareness about a particular thing".  As such, everyone is ignorant about various topics. Benjamin Franklin observed that  "we are all born ignorant, but one must work hard to stay stupid."  I first heard the distinction explained by Dr. Stewart Henry at Duke Divinty School. Paraphrased, he told us that brain power was not equally distributed so being 'ignorant' was nothing of shame. On the other hand, 'aggressive ignorance' marked a concerted effort to demonstrate one's lack of endowment.  Stupid is a word of scorn or condescension and I attempt to use it sparingly although there seems to be an increase of aggressive ignorance abroad in the land.

    Calling someone a 'dog' does not have a complimentary connotation.  But just remove the negativity and just let 'old dog' mean someone with a lot of birthdays or 'old' attitudes.  Likely you have encountered new situations that take you out of the well-known 'comfort zone'.  When a youth facing a new 'challenge', I would sometime complain to dad that I did not know how to do X.  His consistent counsel was "You're not going to learn any younger, son."  Dad never met a computer and the numerous challenges electronics spawn.  For me a major 'new trick' occurred with the  onset of Covid and therapy became 'online therapy'.  It was at that time that I remembered the saying that an old dog could learn a new trick if two circumstances were in  place: the    old  dog had half a brain and the old dog wanted to learn a new trick.  I decided that I qualified and have not had an in office session since March 18, 2020.

   Silence has been driven to the edges of life. It can be a challenge to escape the noise.  We introverts need it like we need oxygen. I find instruction in John McQiston's book, Always We Begin Again: The Benediction Way of Living : " Consider the value of  silence in  community. Our ability to listen should be our gift to those around us.  Too much talk is a sign of self-centeredness and insecurity.  If you hear yourself talking excessively, take care." (p. 36) With new clients I indicate that times of silence are meant as respect and not manipulation or 'head games'.  The most memorable instance occurred a few years ago . We had conversed  for a few minutes then she became silent and neither of us spoke for the next forty minutes.  When I indicated that our time had expired, she  enthusiastically responded, "This has been most helpful!"  So much for my verbal interventions!

    Today I had an appointment at my audiologist for hearing aid adjustment.  On a previous visit, I saw a distinction to the effect that hearing occurs when sounds are detected, and listening occurs when meaning is ascribed to  those sounds.  Close listening can facilitate that precious connection of empathy.

   By now, you may be wondering  something like what is the POINT of these meanderings. A seminary student (not I) asked his professor "How many points should a sermon have?" to be told, "At least one !"  The matters noted here may be termed either trivial or, at most, of  modest importance, but I believe the common theme has to do with keeping an inquisitive approach to new information, new understandings and a willingness to be influenced by those?

    What's new for you ?

          Satchel        

    

 

Blog meets GPT

 

             Originally, this was going to be just a regular blog about how we tried to stay cool when kids. "Cool", not in the sense of being trendy; more like, "it's hot as blue blazes ! How can I get relief?" And, that is a pertinent question now that much of the world is experiencing record high temperatures.  My chosen topic was something we called "getting under the hose" i.e., spraying each other with a water hose.  

        A.I. (artificial intelligence) captures a lot  of attention and numerous predictions about how this will affect all aspects of human life.  I decided to install ChatGPT to give it some random, innocuous tasks. When I assigned it the topic of "getting under the hose" . . . well,  I decided to proceed with my musings and follow with ChatGBT's version:

    Our small Southern town in the 1940's and early '50's had no municipal swimming pool. One family had their private pool and my brother and I were regularly invited over, typically on Sunday afternoons. (In time, after many self-invitees continue to come, Mr. Schaub filled in his pool.) Thereafter, the nearest pool was in Raleigh, about 20 miles away. And, at any rate, I couldn't actually swim.  As a young Boy Scout on a troop event to  a YMCA, I had jumped from the diving board at the urging of our Scout Master. If one's life flashes before one's eyes just before death and you have just a short life, the flashing process doesn't take long. Gratefully, I avoided the dying part, thanks to swift action by the Scout Master.

     Bereft of a local pool, what were hot, sweaty kids to do! We needed to be resourceful in devising ways of relief. Often the hose proved to be the solution and when our parents said o.k. to our pleas, we had 10 or 15 minutes of absolute delight.

    My brother and I, along with any cousins who might be visiting and neighboring kids, would take turns as "sprayer in chief", sometimes with youthful mischief. Looking back from the vantage point of about three-quarters of a century, it is easy for me to see that this game provided a kind of group  camaraderie along with heat relief.

   That was the essence of my musing on the topic; then, ChatGPT came to mind. I assigned this project:

"Write an essay about the pleasures of 'getting under the hose' in small town South in 1940' when there was no swimming pool nearby." 

   An extensive essay, complete with Title, Introduction , Body and Conclusion appeared in about ten seconds.  I include snippets of the prose:

"In the idyllic small  towns of the South in the 1940' . . . where swimming  pools were a rare luxury, people found joy in the simplest of pleasures. One such pleasure was 'getting under the hose,' a delightful and refreshing activity. . .  This essay explores the  pleasures and memories associated with this cherished pastime."

   There followed discussion of topics like 'Escaping the Southern Heat'; Embracing Resourcefulness; ... Nostalgia and Fond Memories'.  The last topic noted

"For those who  experienced the pleasures of 'getting under the hose' during the  1940, the memories  remain etched in their hearts. "

     Among my initial reactions . . . 'it lacks something. Warmth, maybe.' Then, 'I am glad no longer to be a History professor assigning term papers and other research projects.'  AI is here to stay and will continue to produce more important topics than 'getting under the hose'.  So, Satchel's promise:

Any future use of ChatGBT in these blog posts will be duly noted and not fobbed off as being original.

     SATCHEL     (himself)

  

     

Ninety (90 Years !

                            Mom and Dad shortly before his death

            Were they living still, tomorrow (July 1) would be mom and dad's 90th wedding anniversary.  Like many young couples during the Great Depression, they opted to elope rather than have a traditional ceremony. So, with friends they went secretly to South Carolina; no doubt with some trepidation, when dad went to visit his new father-in-law, he asked, "Should I run?"  Whereupon, the reply, "I think that you have run enough already". 

   They were well matched although greatly different in temperament and 'style'. Mom tended to be direct, plain spoken and often opinionated.  She loved her family---immediate and extended ---and expressed it  largely in non-verbal actions. My mom could cook! Dad filled the 'encourager' role and was hardly passive in his relationships. He was forever grateful to the woman he called 'Mamma' who had taken him as an infant when his biological mother abandoned him and his father was for a time unable to care for him. 

   Coming of age during the economic hardships of the 1930's, they both were hardworkers and over time rose from 'blue collar' to solid 'middle class'. Dad moved from mill operative, to employee at two dry cleaning companies, to owning a dry-cleaning business with a brother-in-law, and retiring as an agent of Metropolitan Life Insurance Company.  While they were not high school graduates (Mom acquired her GED and LPN when her sons became adults), they both possessed an abundant endowment of 'Wisdom'.  My brothers and I were probably college graduates before we knew we had options because of their frequent refrains "When you go to college . . ." and "We want you to have opportunities that we  didn't have."

    On two previous occasions, on the evening prior to a neighbor's anniversary party, the husband's each had a fatal heart attack.  So as their 50th anniversary approached, Mom and Dad told us that there was to be no formal party or reception for them.  Instead, all of us spent several leisurely days on the  Outer Banks of North Carolina. Good choice. . . he lived almost another ten years.

  An online dictionary defines legacy as "giving something that will be valued and treasured by those who survive after your death".  Using that definition, my brothers and our families have been bequeathed a rich legacy.

      Satchel