A Simple Story About God’s Love

I still haven’t heard a word from my old friend Geezer. Maybe there’s something to his “secret mission for the CIA” story after all – but then again, maybe not.

Anyhow, many of you may have already read the following story. A good friend e-mailed it to me this week. I had never read it before and thought it was worth sharing.

So here it is (unedited):

Father John Powell, a professor at Loyola University in Chicago, writes about a student in his Theology of Faith class named Tommy:
 
Some twelve years ago, I stood watching my university students file into the classroom for our first session in the Theology of Faith.
 
That was the day I first saw Tommy. My eyes and my mind both blinked. He was combing his long flaxen hair, which hung six inches below his shoulders. It was the first time I had ever seen a boy with hair that long.. I guess it was just coming into fashion then. I know in my mind that it isn’t what’s on your head but what’s in it that counts; but on that day I was unprepared and my emotions flipped.  I immediately filed Tommy under "S" for strange…. Very strange.
 
Tommy turned out to be the "atheist in residence" in my Theology of Faith course. He constantly objected to, smirked at, or whined about the possibility of an unconditionally loving Father/God. We lived with each other in relative peace for one semester, although I admit he was for me at times a serious pain in the back pew.
 
When he came up at the end of the course to turn in his final exam, he asked in a cynical tone, "Do you think I’ll ever find God?"

I decided instantly on a little shock therapy. "No!" I  said very emphatically.
 
"Why not," he responded, "I thought that was the product you were pushing."
 
I let him get five steps from the classroom door and then I called out, "Tommy!  I don’t think you’ll ever find Him, but I am absolutely certain that He will find you! "He shrugged a little and left my class and my life.
 
I felt slightly disappointed at the thought that he had missed my clever line — He will find you! At least I thought it was clever.
 
Later I heard that Tommy had graduated, and I was duly grateful.

Then a sad report came. I heard that Tommy had terminal cancer. Before I could search him out, he came to see me. When he walked into my office, his body was very badly wasted and the long hair had all fallen out as a result of chemotherapy.

But his eyes were bright and his voice was firm, for the first time, I believe.. "Tommy, I’ve thought about you so often; I hear you are sick," I blurted out.
  
"Oh, yes, very sick. I have cancer in both lungs. It’s a matter of weeks."

"Can you talk about it, Tom?" I asked.
  
"Sure, what would you like to know?" he replied.
  
"What’s it like to be only twenty-four and dying?

"Well, it could be worse."

"Like what?

"Well, like being fifty and having no values or ideals, like being fifty and thinking that booze, seducing women, and making money are the real biggies in life..
 
I began to look through my mental file cabinet under "S" where I had filed Tommy as strange. (It seems as though everybody I try to reject by classification, God sends back into my life to educate me.)
  
"But what I really came to see you about," Tom said, "is something you said to me on the last day of class." (He remembered!) He continued, "I asked you if you thought I would ever find God and you said, ‘No!’ which surprised me Then you said, ‘But He will find you.’I thought about that a lot, even though my search for God was hardly intense at that time.
  
(My clever line. He thought about that a lot!)
  
"But when the doctors removed a lump from my groin and told me that it was malignant, that’s when I got serious about locating God.. And when the malignancy spread into my vital organs, I really began banging bloody fists against the bronze doors of heaven. But God did not come out.

In fact, nothing happened. Did you ever try anything for a long time with great effort and with no success? You get psychologically glutted, fed up with trying.  And then you quit.
  
"Well, one day I woke up, and instead of throwing a few more futile appeals over that high brick wall to a God who may be or may not be there, I just quit. I decided that I didn’t really care about God, about an after life, or anything like that..

I decided to spend what time I had left doing something more profitable. I thought about you and your class and I remembered something else you had said: ‘The essential sadness is to go through life without loving. But it would be almost equally sad to go through life and leave this world without ever telling those you loved that you had loved them.’"
 
"So, I began with the hardest one, my Dad. He was reading the newspaper when I approached him. "Dad.”

"Yes, what?" he asked without lowering the newspaper. "Dad, I would like to talk with you."

"Well, talk."
  
"I mean. It’s really important."

The newspaper came down three slow inches. "What is it?"
 
"Dad, I love you, I just wanted you to know that. "Tom smiled at me and said it with obvious satisfaction, as though he felt a warm and secret joy flowing inside of him.” The newspaper fluttered to the floor.

Then my father did two things I could never remember him ever doing before. He cried and he hugged me. We talked all night, even though he had to go to work the next morning. It felt so good to be close to my father, to see his tears, to feel his hug, to hear him say that he loved me."
  
"It was easier with my mother and little brother. They cried with me, too, and we hugged each other, and started saying real nice things to each other. We shared the things we had been keeping secret for so many years.

"I was only sorry about one thing — that I had waited so long. Here I was, just beginning to open up to all the people I had actually been close to.
  
"Then, one day I turned around and God was there. He didn’t come to me when I pleaded with Him. I guess I was like an animal trainer  holding out a hoop, ‘C’mon, jump through. C’mon, I’ll give you three days, three weeks.’"
  
"Apparently God does things in His own way and at His own hour. But the important thing is that He was there. He found me! You were  right. He found me even after I stopped looking for Him." 

"Tommy," I practically gasped, "I think you are saying something very important and much more universal than you realize. To me, at least, you are saying that the surest way to find God is not to make Him a private possession, a problem solver, or an instant consolation in time of need, but rather by opening to love. You know, the Apostle John said that.

He said: ‘God is love, and anyone who lives in love is living with God and God is living in him. ‘Tom, could I ask you a favor? You know, when I had you in class you were a real pain. But (laughingly) you can make it all up to me now. Would you come into my present Theology of Faith course and tell them what you have just told me? If I told them the same thing it wouldn’t be half as effective as if you were to tell it.
 
"Oooh … I was ready for you, but I don’t know if I’m ready for your class."

"Tom, think about it. If and when you are ready, give me a call."

In a few days Tom called, said he was ready for the class, that he wanted to do that for God and for me. So we scheduled a date.
  
However, he never made it. He had another appointment, far more important than the one with me and my class. Of course, his life was not really ended by his death, only changed. He made the great step from faith into vision.

He found a life far more beautiful than the eye of man has ever seen or the ear of man has ever heard or the mind of man has ever imagined. 

Before he died, we talked one last time.
 
"I’m not going to make it to your class," he said. 

"I know, Tom."

"Will you tell them for me? Will you … tell the whole world for me?"

I will, Tom. I’ll tell them. I’ll do my best."
 
So, to all of you who have been kind enough to read this simple story about God’s love, thank you for listening. And to you, Tommy, somewhere in the sunlit, verdant hills of heaven — I told them, Tommy, as best I could.
  
If this story means anything to you, please pass it on to a friend or two.

It is a true story and is not enhanced for publicity purposes.
  
With thanks, Rev. John Powell,
Professor,
Loyola University,
Chicago

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The ‘Big Rocks’ In Your Life

I haven’t talked to my old friend Geezer in a while. The last time I saw him, he said something about a top-secret mission for the CIA
or some such nonsense. I suspect he’s just gone fishing for a couple of weeks at his cabin on the lake. He likes to get away from it all sometimes.

At any rate, I’ll try to keep you entertained until he returns with some bits of wisdom I’ve collected over the years, such as the following short story. I was going through an old briefcase the other day and came across this e-mail that I received and printed out over 11 years ago. I don’t remember, but I probably used it at an employee training meeting about prioritizing their duties.

After doing some research on the Internet, I discovered that various versions of the story have been making the rounds for years in e-mails, articles, blogs and such. You may have seen it already. It seems the original was first published in a book titled First Things First by Stephen R. Covey in the early ’90s. Anyhow, I think it can be helpful to anyone at any stage of life.

Here it is:

One day, an expert in time management was speaking to a group of business students and, to drive home a point, used an illustration those students will never forget.

As he stood in front of the group of high-powered overachievers, he said, “OK, time for a quiz.” He then pulled out a 1-gallon, wide-mouth mason jar and set on the table in front of him. Then he produced about a dozen fist-sized rocks and carefully placed them, one by one, into the jar. When the jar was filled to the top and no more rocks would fit inside, he asked, “Is this jar full?”

Everyone in the class said, “Yes.” Then he said, “Really?” He reached under the table and pulled out a bucket of gravel. Then he dumped some gravel in and shook the jar, causing pieces of gravel to work themselves down into the space between the big rocks. Then he asked the group once more. “Is this jar full?”

By this time the class was on to him. "Probably not," one of them answered. “Good!” he replied. He reached under the table and brought out a bucket of sand. He started dumping the sand in the jar and it went into all the space left between the rocks and the gravel. Once more he asked the question. “Is this jar full?”

“No!” the class shouted. Once again, he said, “Good!” Then he grabbed a pitcher of water and began to pour it in until the jar was filled to the brim. Then the expert in time-management looked at the class and asked, “What is the point of this illustration?”

One eager beaver raised his hand and said, “The point is, no matter how full your schedule is, if you try really hard you can always fit some more things in it.”

“No,” the speaker replied, “that’s not the point. The truth this illustration teaches us is this:  If you don’t put the big rocks in first, you’ll never get them in at all.”

What are the big rocks in your life? They probably include:
Your children. 
Your spouse.
Your loved ones.
Your friendships.
Your education.
Your dreams.
A worthy cause.
Teaching or mentoring others.
Doing things that you love.
Time for yourself.
Your health.

Remember to put these BIG ROCKS in first, or you’ll fill your life with little things you worry about that don’t really matter, and you’ll never have the real quality time you need to spend on the big, important stuff (the big rocks). So, tonight, or in the morning, when you’re reflecting on this short story, make your own list of the “big rocks” in your life.

Then, put those in your jar first.

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Dreams Are Made Of This – Part 4, The End Of An Era

"Pictures are for entertainment, messages should be delivered by Western Union." ~ Samuel Goldwyn

“Yeah,” Geezer said, “as hard as they were to live through for many of us, looking back, our teenage years probably hold our fondest memories. Certainly some of the fondest.”

“I agree,” I said. “I certainly didn’t think so at the time, but as the years have gone by, they’ve become more and more a storehouse of memories. It was a time when love was new, and of growing up. I still listen to the music and watch some of the movies over and over. I can almost tell you where I was and what I was doing when every song and every movie was popular.”

“You’re not just whistling Dixie, Sonny. The same goes for me,” Geezer responded.

“ ‘Stardust,’ ” I said.

“What?” Geezer did a double-take.

“ ‘Stardust’, the song.” I said. “Just listen to the words. It says it all.”

“Consarned it, Sonny, don’t start with your dad-blamed riddles again!” Geezer was unhappy. “Just say what you mean and mean what you say. I don’t have enough time left for all this confounded riddle mess!”

I just laughed. “OK, Geeze, don’t get you socks wet.”

“Aaahhh!,” Geezer threw up his hands, “You’re about as much use as a pine cone in an outhouse!” He gave me that look again. We both broke into a long, hardy laugh.

“I got married a few months before I got out of the Army,” I said. “I was 20 then. Being newlyweds and just starting out on our own, my wife and I didn’t have much extra money, but we did manage to see a few great movies.

I remember Hush … Hush, Sweet Charlotte, Fail-Safe, and Cheyenne Autumn.”

“I saw all those,” Geezer chimed in, “and also The Unsinkable Molly Brown, The Thin Red Line, and Carpetbaggers.” I countered, “How about Zorba The Greek and Mary Poppins?”

Geezer responded, “Oh yeah, and then there’s Shenandoah, Doctor Zhivago, Fantastic Voyage, and Born Free.” I added, “Don’t forget The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming, and The War Wagon.”

“Or Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner, The Dirty Dozen, and Cool Hand Luke,” Geezer suggested. I came back with, “Nor The Graduate, The Green Berets, and The Love Bug.”

“There were lots of good ones back then,” Geezer said. “Who didn’t see 2001: A Space Odyssey, or Midnight Cowboy?”

“The ’70s had some good ones,” I said. “There was Patton, Dirty Harry, Deliverance, and The Godfather.” Geezer came back, “Also The Exorcist, The Sting, and American Graffiti.” I added, “How about Blazing Saddles, Jaws, and One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest?”

“Oh yeah,” Geezer said, “and Rocky, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and Saturday Night Fever.” I mused, “Those were some good ones. So was The China Syndrome and Kramer vs. Kramer. I think I saw all the Star Wars episodes, too!

“The Indiana Jones movies were good,” I continued, “and who didn’t like The Pink Panther and Star Trek series?” Geezer asked, “Did you see E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial?” I responded, “Who didn’t? Plus, how about Amadeus and Ghostbusters?”

“I liked Back to the Future and The Color Purple, too,” Geezer said. I shot back, “I liked Rain Man, Bull Durham, Field of Dreams, and one of my all-time favorites, The Blues Brothers.”

“Along about the ’90s, the pickings began to get slim,” Geezer observed, “but there were still a few good ones, such as Ghost, The Silence of the Lambs, and A Few Good Men.” I continued, “I’ll have to agree with that. I did like Schindler’s List, Forrest Gump, The Shawshank Redemption, and Braveheart, though.”

“I kind of lost interest in going to the movies around the mid-to-late ’90s,” Geezer said. “Saving Private Ryan was great, The Sixth Sense and Gladiator were good, as well as A Beautiful Mind and Seabiscuit.” I went with it, “I think The Passion of the Christ was the last movie I saw in a theater, but I also thought The Patriot and The Others were great.”

We sat in silence for awhile, gathering our thoughts. Finally, I asked, “Geezer, what happened? Why are the really good movies so few and far between these days?”

Geezer Sayz: “Well, Sonny Boy, let me tell you. Somewhere along the way, I don’t even know when, movie producers began to want to ‘reflect’ society. They wanted their movies to be more ‘realistic’, visually, substantively, and verbally. With the advancement in computer technology, they could make stunning special effects. As video games became more realistic and filled with blood and gore, they thought their movies had to do the same.

“Remember, the producers today grew up with computers and video games. Their attention span is about 12 seconds. Instead of telling stories like in the old days, they now depend on special effects and plots filled with all the video game style ‘action’.

“In the name of ‘realism’, they think they have to resort to profane language and casual sex scenes among ‘friends’ just to spice things up, I guess. They especially like to drop the ‘F’ bomb and get ‘PO’d’. Now tell me, why would a grown person find the need to urinate in their pants? I guess they urinate in their pants, I never see them going into a bathroom or restroom before they say they’ve done it!”

I laughed and said, “Maybe they all wear Depends!” Geezer replied, “Danged, Sonny, I never thought about that! Maybe we should buy some stock!” We enjoyed another good belly laugh.

Geezer continued, “Anyhow, now people talk in public the way we would never do in our day, and keep pushing the bounds further and further away from everyday, intelligent language. As a result, instead of ‘reflecting’ society, they’ve actually influenced it to the point where you can’t go anywhere in public anymore without getting an earful of obscene and vulgar words, from ‘grownups’ as well as the kids.

“The public has come to expect all this stuff in the the movies they see. Shoot fire, it’s even made it’s way into our homes through TV and radio. It’s even permeated pop music. You can’t get away from it. I don’t know why they can’t tell a story or sing a song anymore without sex, nudity, profanity, or all three. They used to do it quite well back in our day.

“One radio talk show hostess I listen to calls it the ‘pornification of America’. I think she’s right, and it makes me awfully glad I was born when I was and grew up when I did.”

With that, old Geezer simply stood up and walked out the door. He didn’t say another word. He didn’t have to.

Geezer would like to know the names of your favorite classic movies, and the memories they hold for you. Share the stuff that made your dreams with us in the comments section below.

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Old Geezer’s Got Style!

My good friend Roy Durham at Roy’s Garage Sell and Auction describes his blog thusly: “Well, it is a garage sell and auction. It is a philosophical and intellectual debate forum, to enlighten, educate, have fun, and a laugh or two. The garage is what is in my mind, what I have learned from life, sell is to exchange ideas, auction, bid by giving your opinion on the subject.”

I have described Roy’s as, “One of my favorite blogs. It’s always a surprise what the cowboy from Ogden, Utah, will be including in his “lots” each day. It might be a heartwarming story of a true life adventure drawn from Roy’s vast memory bank, a poem, pictures, even music videos. Whatever Roy is auctioning off on any given day, it’ll always be a treat. Visit Roy’s Garage Sell and Auction at:

http://royd-spiltmilk.blogspot.com/

Be sure to made a bid and tell him that old Geezer sent you.

Today I am announcing that Roy has honored Geezer Sayz … with a second award. This one’s a mighty highfalutin (I love that word. I use it here to mean “fancy”) one indeed: The Stylish Blogger Award! Old Geezer’s got style? You bet your bootie! It says so right there on the above logo! Thank you, Roy, for a truly great honor. Old Geezer is mighty humbled.

So, what are the rules? Glad you asked:

_________________________________________
Rules:

Thank and link back to the person who sent you the award.

Share seven things about you.

Spread the love and honor. Award recently discovered bloggers. Contact those bloggers and tell them about the award.
_________________________________________

Hmmmmm … this could take some time. Here goes:

1.  I passed the first- and second-grades in one year when I entered public school. I THINK I’m the baby of my high school graduating class. Probably my first-grade teacher just wanted to get rid of me. I was ADD before ADD was cool.

2. I once preached the sermon at my church. Nobody walked out on me. Probably just being polite.

3. I’ve lived and worked in eight states. Never did find the end of that rainbow.

4. I have never been to a foreign country, although I lived only about 100 miles from Canada for over eight years. Worked all the dad-blamed time.

5. I once waded all the way across the Mississippi River. I have a ribbon to prove it. It was only a few inches deep and a few feet wide. It was at Lake Itasca, Minnesota. (Look it up.)

6. I once stepped OVER our outdoor clothes line coming home from work. It was during a blizzard in Northern Minnesota. The snow was that high. Not a snow drift. Snow.

7. When I was a baby down on the farm, our dog, old Jip, literally saved by life. I fell into a deep pit dug for burying cattle during some epidemic that was filled with thick muddy water up to my chin. When old Jip realized he couldn’t get me out of the pit, he ran home and raised such a ruckus my mom and dad knew something was wrong. They followed him to the pit, and my dad fished me out. If not for old Jip, I would have surely drowned. Years later, old Jip got run over by a truck and died. I helped my dad bury him. I had lost my very first best friend. I still get teary-eyed when I hear Old Shep by Elvis.

OK. Now to spread some love and honor. Recently discovered bloggers with style … Hmmmmm … Only seven? Sorry I can’t include everyone, but rules is rules! Well, let’s see now, in no particular order:

1. Elise VanCise – Gladiator’s Pen

http://gladiatorspen.blogspot.com/

2. Raven Myth – Ravenmyth

http://ravenmyth.blogspot.com

3. Sajith Techblaster – Blog Tips and Tricks

http://www.techblaster.co.cc/

4. Ana Peterson – Well Being Tips

http://wellbeing-support.com

5. Jyoti Mishra – Random Scribblings

http://jyotimi.blogspot.com/

6. Ralph Rollon – Trunk Locker

http://trunklocker.blogspot.com

7. Laurie Creasy – Laurie Creasy

http://lauriecreasy.wordpress.com/

Th … du du … th … du du … that’s all, folks! CONGRATULATIONS to you all! Now, please don’t forget to do your part by reading the rules above and participate. Let’s help keep this award going!

Now, let’s all go forth and share the love with these very special honorees by visiting their blogs and leaving comments to let them know we were there.

NOTE: Don’t miss Dreams Are Made Of This – Part 4: The End Of An Era, coming soon.

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Dreams Are Made Of This – Part 3, The Teen Years

"A film is — or should be — more like music than like fiction. It should be a progression of moods and feelings. The theme, what’s behind the emotion, the meaning, all that comes later." ~ Stanley Kubrick

While Geezer and I sat quietly sipping our iced tea and reliving fond memories, I thought of my teenage years. Ahhh … the teen years, when everything, even the most insignificant of things, seemed like mountains we could never climb! Pimples, girls, pimples, girls … uh … anyhow, you know what I mean.

I turned 13 while in junior high school. Well, actually, I turned 13 while lying in bed with a broken leg in a cast that weighed 100 pounds — at least it seemed like 100 pounds. I couldn’t get out of bed with it on my leg, I know that. Altogether, I wore different weighted casts on that leg for over nine months. I was home-schooled for most of that year. The last cast came off just before I registered for high school.

Before I broke my leg, I was convinced I was going to be the greatest pitcher in the Major Leagues when I grew up. That dream was shattered along with the bone in my leg. My mom was so worried I’d break the leg again, she wouldn’t let me play organized baseball anymore.

So, I took up the guitar. It wasn’t long before some friends and I formed a Rock & Roll band. We weren’t good, but we had fun. As we got better, we’d play for anything; parties, dances, you name it.

We’d sometimes play over the radio for “Teen Time” at one of the downtown movie theaters on Saturday mornings. Later we got our own radio show at the movie house next door. It was taped just before the late show every Saturday night. The station broadcast the show on Monday afternoons when all the kids were in school. Go figure. I’m sure nobody remembers us. We were completely forgettable.

We continued to improve, and began playing the night clubs around town and the Army post nearby. For money. Real money. It was when I began to break the barrier from mediocre to pretty good on the guitar that my next dream was hatched; I wanted to be the world’s greatest Rock & Roll guitar player.

That was the same year I later cut off the first joint of the ring finger on my left hand in the high school wood shop. There just aren’t many great three-fingered guitar players. I did try, though — really hard –- but decided to join the Army and be a paratrooper instead; broke leg, missing finger and all. That was the year after graduation. I was 17.

Suddenly I heard a muffled voice coming from somewhere that seemed a long way off. Slowly, the voice got louder and more clear. I eventually recognized it was Geezer talking.

“Yeah,” he was saying, “there were some great movies during those years. Do you remember Giant, The Rainmaker, and Around The World In 80 Days?”

“Oh yes, “I said, “and Elvis hit the big screen with Love Me Tender, Pat Boone with Friendly Persuasion, and James Dean’s last film, Giant. And what teenager could forget The Girl Can’t Help it?”

“Well, being a few years older than you,” Geezer said, “I sure as heck can forget that one! But I remember The Bridge On The River Kwai, Gunfight At The O.K. Corral, and 12 Angry Men.”

I kept it going. “I just had to see Elvis’ second film, Jailhouse Rock, and then there was the oh, so naughty Peyton Place!” Geezer laughed, “I saw it, too, but it didn’t hold a candle to the book! Hot dang, I’d never read such stuff before!” I continued, “Well, I also read the book, at least all the good parts!” We both had a good laugh. “That was mighty racy stuff back in those days,” Geezer said with a big wink. We laughed some more.

“I also remember Tammy and the Bachelor, I Was a Teenage Werewolf, and The Curse of Frankenstein,” I said. “Typical teenage tripe,” Geezer scoffed. “Well, I liked them!” I retorted.

“I liked Ben-Hur, Porgy and Bess, North by Northwest, and The Diary of Anne Frank,” Geezer continued. “Yes, they were good,” I said, “but that’s about the same time I first saw A Summer Place. After that one, every teenage boy dreamed of being Troy Donahue and was madly in love with Sandra Dee. Every teenage girl dreamed of being Sandra Dee and was madly in love with Troy Donahue. It was the perfect storm.”

“Holy moly, Sonny,” Geezer sniffed, didn’t you ever think about anything but girls and love when you were a teenager?” I laughed, “Not much, Geeze, not much!”

“Did you see North to Alaska?” Geezer asked. “Did I?” I almost shouted, “That was the first movie my wife and I saw together! It was on our very first real date. It was a double-date. Later, I asked her to see a movie with me alone. It was one of those cheesy science-fiction ‘B’ movies, if even that,” I said. “Red Planet Mars. We still laugh about it. When the crew of the spaceship landed on Mars, the rest of the movie was shot in an annoying red color! She had to have liked me a lot to sit through  that train wreck for two hours!” I laughed.

“Dad gum, Sonny, I saw that one too. You should have asked her to marry you right then and there!” We broke up laughing again. “There were some good ones about that time, though,” Geezer mused, “The Hustler, Judgment at Nuremberg, The Guns of Navarone, Splendor in the Grass, One-Eyed Jacks – I could go on and on.”

“Well, I was already in the Army by that time and my movie-going came to an abrupt halt, except when I got some leave time,” I said. “I do remember seeing some good ones, though; Elvis’ Blue Hawaii, To Kill a Mockingbird, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, Cape Fear, and The Birds.”

“I saw Lawrence of Arabia, The Manchurian Candidate, The Miracle Worker, and Mutiny on the Bounty about that same time,” Geezer offered. “Man alive, they were still making some great ones in those days.”

“You got that right,” I said. “By the way, Geezer, you don’t talk much about your teenage years. Why not?”

Geezer Sayz: “Well, Sonny Boy, there’s not much to tell. I had to quit school and start working in the cotton mill when  I was 16 to take care of my mama and daddy. Daddy had that stroke and couldn’t work anymore, so my mama had to quit her job too. They both worked at the mill, you know. So, that left just me to make enough money to pay the bills.”

I thought about that for a long time. As it all sank in, I realized how it put my broken leg and short finger into perspective. I wondered silently what hopes and dreams Geezer had willingly given up, that cleared the path he was destined to follow for the rest of his life. Suddenly a deep feeling of being very fortunate and abundantly blessed swept over me, but I also know that Geezer has never regretted a minute of it, and that makes him a hero in anybody’s book.

NOTE: Don’t miss Part 4: The End Of An Era, coming soon.

Geezer would like to know the names of your favorite classic movies, and the memories they hold for you. Share the stuff that made your dreams with us in the comments section below.

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Dreams Are Made Of This – Part 2, The ’Tween Years

“You can map your life through your favorite movies, and no two people’s maps will be the same.” ~ Mary Schmich

After a long while of being lost in the past, Geezer broke the silence. “Didn’t you say your family left the farm and moved to the city in 1952?”

“Yes,” I answered, “I’m pretty sure it was the summer of ’52, because I started the fifth grade in my new school that fall. I used to walk almost everywhere in those days. I was only nine years old. It costs to ride the bus, and every nickel meant something back then. My dad didn’t buy our first car until about 1954. The cotton mill where he and my mom both worked was only four blocks from the house. My school was just across the street, the grocery store, and all the shopping we needed were all within three or four blocks.

“I was really into Little League baseball, too,” I continued, “and the playground and baseball field where we played was just half a block down the hill.”

“You were lucky, “Geezer continued. “We all were. Back then, the city was made up of many smaller, self-contained communities that had all the shopping, services, and recreation you needed, all within walking distance. Some even had their own movie theaters.

“I remember when I was a little boy when my daddy worked the first shift at the big cotton mill a few blocks up the river from downtown,” Geezer went on, “he and I would walk the three blocks to our neighborhood theatre and catch a movie together now and then. I don’t remember the name of it, but one time we saw this movie that had a black panther in it stalking and killing people. I was so freighted walking back home in the dark I wanted to run. Daddy said to just hold his big, rough hand real tight and everything would be alright. I was mighty danged glad to get home, I’ll tell you that!”

Geezer and I both had a good laugh.

“We lived only a couple of miles from downtown, if even that far,” I added. “There were about six movie theaters either downtown, or close to downtown. You could see everything from first-run to second- or third-run ‘B’ movies. I remember seeing High Noon, The Greatest Show on Earth, and The Pathfinder downtown.”

Geezer chimed in excitedly, “Oh yeah, and how about From Here to Eternity, Shane, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, and Stalag 17?”

“Also, The Robe, War of the Worlds, House of Wax, and How to Marry and Millionaire,” I said.

“Boy, those were some great movies,” Geezer mused.

We both sat there and quietly mused for awhile. We were reliving more than just memories about the movies.

Geezer again spoke first, “There were several drive-inn theaters in town, too, you know. After I got my driver’s license, my daddy would sometimes let me borrow the car on Saturday nights. I’d usually get together with a few guys from the mill and we’d head to the drive-inn.”

“Oh sure,” I grinned, “You are quite a bit older than me. You could borrow daddy’s car while I was just getting my first bicycle!”

“Hey, watch it, Sonny,” Geezer retorted. “You’re not exactly a spring biddy yourself, you know!”

“Spring chicken,” I said.

“What?” Geezer was turning red in the face.

“You said spring biddy. A biddy is a baby chick. The correct expression is spring chicken,” I laughed. “I’ll bet the guys weren’t all you took to the drive-inn in daddy’s car, either. I imagine you took quite a few pretty girls there on the weekends, huh, Geeze?”

“Listen, just because you’re an old newspaperman doesn’t mean you’re so danged smart, you know,” Geezer was really red-faced now. “If I say spring biddy, that’s dad-blamed exactly what I mean, and you can bet your bottom dollar I dated my share of pretty girls, too!”

“Well, don’t blow your pacemaker,” I said. “Nothing at all wrong with that!”

“I don’t have a confounded pacemaker and you know it!” Geezer shot back.

“It’s just an expression,” I said. “Anyhow, after I got my bicycle, I rode that thing all over the city. It was like a new world had suddenly opened up for me … but we were talking about drive-inn movies?”

“Oh. Yeah. Well, some I remember seeing at the drive-inn were On the Waterfront, Rear Window, and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea,” Geezer said.

“Well, I didn’t go to many drive-inns in those days since I couldn’t drive, but my brother and a couple of cousins could. I think I saw Dial M for Murder, The High and the Mighty, and Godzilla at the drive-inn, though,” I guessed.

Geezer continued, “Nineteen fifty-five was when James Dean hit the scene, you know. Dean, Elvis Pressley and Rock & Roll music put teenagers in the majority of moviegoers and record-buyers. It’s been a different world ever since.”

I said, “That’s for sure. I was only 12 then, but I just had to see East of Eden, Rebel Without a Cause, and The Blackboard Jungle, all made for the teen crowd.”

“Oh yeah,” Geezer agreed, “but there were also other ‘grownup’ greats like Picnic, The Man with the Golden Arm, The Seven Year Itch, and The Tender Trap that were must sees.”

“Let’s not forget To Hell and Back, A Man Called Peter, and To Catch a Thief,” I said. “Aaah, there were so many great ones,” Geezer replied.

Again, we sat remembering for quite awhile.

Finally, I asked, “Geezer, what was it about those old movies that bring back such fond memories about the things happening in our lives at the time?”

Geezer Sayz: “Well, Sonny Boy, maybe when we remember the movies, we’re simply reminded of the good things that happened in our lives, and no good thing ever dies.”

I poured myself another glass of iced tea, leaned back and relaxed. Geezer had nailed it again.

NOTE: Don’t miss Part 3: The Teen Years, next week.

Geezer would like to know the names of your favorite classic movies, and the memories they hold for you. Share the stuff that made your dreams with us in the comments section below.

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I Won An Award!

The Kreativ Blogger Award

I have some exciting news to share today. Roy Durhan from Roy’s Garage Sell and Auction has honored Geezer Sayz … with the Kreativ Blogger Award. Thank you, Roy, for this super surprise!

Roy’s Garage Sell and Auction is one of my favorite blogs. It’s always a surprise what the cowboy from Ogden, Utah, will be including in his “lots” each day. It might be a heartwarming story of a true life adventure drawn from Roy’s vast memory bank, a poem, pictures, even music videos. Whatever Roy is auctioning off on any given day, it’ll always be a treat. Visit Roy’s Garage Sell and Auction at:

http://royd-spiltmilk.blogspot.com/

The instructions that came with the Kreativ Blogger Award are:

1. Pass it on to 10 bloggers and notify them. I’m assuming that I shouldn’t include Roy’s blog in my list, since he’s already won the award. In fact, in tracing the history of the award, I’m going to try not to bestow the award on anyone who’s already a winner, but I might not remember them all. Since Roy didn’t mention my having to say a anything about each person, if you want to know about their blogs you’ll just have to visit them! Be sure and give each blog a proper read while you’re there. Take my word for it, you won’t be disappointed!
2. In addition, I have to reveal 10 things about myself that most people don’t know.

So, here we go: To carry out the first instruction, I would like to pass this award on to the following bloggers, in no particular order:

• My Blog by loopyloo305 – http://loopyloo305.wordpress.com/
• You Decide by wdednh -            http://wdednh.wordpress.com/
• Freelance Writers’ Blog by Harleena Singh -    http://writing-freelance.blogspot.com/
• The Liming Liberal Progressive by John Liming – http://thelimingview.blogspot.com/
• Outlaw’s pRose by Rose Wade – http://outlawsprose.blogspot.com/
• Open Mind – A Life in Themes by RDS – http://openmindkafkasworld.com/
• Scoop and Snap by Real Lady – http://charmsaround.blogspot.com/
• The Emptynester by Grammy – http://mynestlife.blogspot.com/
• Nurses’ Journal by raeljustin – http://raelstephanie.wordpress.com/
• Confessions of a Cluttered Mind by Debbie Lamedman – http://www.thingsdebbieneedstosay.blogspot.com/

I know, I know, I could list many, many more who deserve this award, but the rules said 10 and that’s all you’re going to get. CONGRATULATIONS to you all!

Now, to reveal 10 things about myself:

• I’d rather be the lowliest slave in Heaven than the highest king in Hell.
• I’ll never be as old as I feel.
• If I forget something, just give me time; it’ll come to me when I’m not thinking about it.
• I swore I’d NEVER sit around and talk about all my aliments to everyone when I got old like my parents did. I now sit around and talk about all my aliments to anyone who’ll listen.
• I love computers … I mean, I REALLY love computers. I type with two fingers.
• When I lived on the farm as a very young boy, I’d grab a glass and go with my mom every morning to milk the cow and get a fresh warm glass of milk. Milk is still my favorite drink.
• My wife and I published a Christian Yellow Pages that covered all of Chicagoland. We drove over every square inch of Chicagoland selling advertising and delivering books. We had one wreck in three years. We moved back to our small hometown and had five wrecks in the first three years.
• When I was a teenager I wanted to be the world’s greatest Rock & Roll guitar player. Just when I was crashing the threshold from mediocre to pretty good, I lost the first joint of my ring finger, left hand in an accident. There aren’t many really great three-fingered guitar players. God had other plans for me.
• Besides family, I have four BFF’s that are still living. One I’ve never met in person and two live so far away that I never get to see them anymore.
• I don’t think I’ll live long enough to do more than 10 percent of all the things I put off doing until I had more time.

Done! Old Geezer Sayz: "Go right now and collect your awards, folks, and spread it like wildfire!"

NOTE: Don’t miss “Dreams Are Made Of This -Part 2: The ’Tween Years” coming soon.

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Dreams Are Made Of This – Part 1, The First Years

Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories. ~ From the movie An Affair to Remember

Uploaded by dsteamer100 on May 30, 2011 – This is my loving tribute to the movies of yesterday and all the people who made them, using one of my favourite musical pieces The Friends of Mr. Cairo by Jon and Vangelis. If you want to see the complete lyrics (including those I cut out) go to
http://www.vangelislyrics.com/jon-and-vangelis-friends-of-mr-cairo-lyrics.htm.
The voices were done by Sally Grace and David Cocker. You can see more of his works at http://www.youtube.com/user/DavidTheVoice.

The heat wave still held its grip. The humidity pressed in like an anaconda wrapped around your chest when you stepped into the oven outside. It was that hard to breathe.

To escape the misery, I curled up on the cool leather sofa in the air-conditioned comfort of my study with a glass of iced tea and my laptop. I had found an old movie on You Tube, and nothing was going to make me move anything more than my right arm as I lifted and lowered the frosted glass to and from my lips, engrossed in the memories that flickered on the screen in front of me.

Nothing that is, except my old friend Geezer. I must not have heard his knock on the front door all the way from my back study, so he had come to the back door again. I got up and let him in. He made his way to the easy chair as we said our hellos. I could see he needed a cold iced tea also, so I got him a glass. He wasted no time in guzzling it down. “Man alive,” he said, “I could use another one of those.” So I poured him another.

“What are you up to this fine, hot morning?” Geezer asked. “Just trying to stay cool and watch an old movie on my laptop,” I replied.

“I love old movies,” he said with a big smile. “Reminds me of when I was a youngster, many years ago.”

“Me too,” I replied. “I use to love to go to the movies when I was a kid.”

“Oh, heck yeah,” he said. “I remember when you could go see a movie, color cartoon, serial, and a newsreel for 10 cents on Saturdays. For 25 cents you could get in, buy yourself a Coke and popcorn, and stay in the cool air-conditioned theater all day if you wanted. Not like those danged multiplex cinemas these days. Now you have to wait until the movie you want to see ends, then go into some little cubbyhole where the screen’s not much bigger than a big-screened TV. Everyone watches the movie and leaves at the same time.”

“My favorites when I was a kid were the westerns,” I mused. Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, Johnny Mack Brown, Rex Allen, Lash LaRue, Red Ryd…”

“Whoa, there, cowboy,” Geezer interrupted. “Don’t forget the gangster movies! My favorites were Humphrey Bogart, Edward G. Robinson, James Cagney, Peter Laurie — you couldn’t beat those guys.”

“Film noir,” I said.

“Film no what?” Geezer asked.

“Film noir, two words. It means crime fiction featuring hard-boiled, cynical characters and bleak, sleazy settings. That was the genre of most of the gangster and detective movies,” I said. “Always black and white, really dark shadows, camera shots at weird angles. You know, like Elliot Ness, Al Capone and all those guys. The Maltese Falcon, Citizen Kane, The Thief Of Bagdad and movies like that.”

“Well, whatever you call them, I liked them,” Geezer replied. “It sounds French to me.”

“What?” I asked.

“Noir. It sounds French. Don’t you even know what we’re talking about, Sonny?” Geezer shot back. “Keep up with the conversation.”

“I am keeping up with the conversation and it’s not French,” I retorted. “No more than pizza pies are Italian. The word was first used in America in 1980.”

“And just how do you know that?” Geezer sounded agitated. “I looked it up,” I said smugly.

We sat silently for a long while as we both recalled fond memories.

Geezer broke the silence, “As I got older, I liked those silly science fiction moves, too. The Blob, The Thing, It Came From Outer Space. They were really bad, but I liked them then.”

“Are you kidding?” I exclaimed. “I loved those old movies. This Island Earth, The Werewolf, Invasion Of The Body Snatchers.”

“Weren’t you a country boy when you were a youngster?” Geezer asked. “Yep,” I said. “We moved to the city when I was nine.”

“I guess you didn’t get to see any movies back then, did you?” Geezer inquired. “Are you kidding?” I exclaimed. “We went to the movies all the time. I don’t even remember the first movie I ever saw. Every Saturday morning dad would hitch up the mules and wagon and off we’d go. It was only 3 miles to the nearest
little town, but it took a long time to get there and back home. We’d leave early in the morning and get back just before dark.

“Anyhow, while my dad did his errands and shopped for supplies, My brother and I would go to the movie house. It was air-conditioned and everything. That’s where I saw all those old cowboy movies,” I said.

“Well, don’t that just knock your hat in the creek!” Geezer exclaimed. “I see you watched Hee Haw, too, huh?” I replied. We both had a good laugh recalling the Hee Haw TV show.

I continued, “We’d go to see movies in the evenings, too. I remember seeing Jumping Jacks, National Velvet, Singing In The Rain, Guys And Dolls, and Niagara. I don’t remember where I saw all of them, but we used to go to several theaters in different close-by towns. I also remember sitting in the back of a pickup truck and watching movies at the drive-inn. Every little town had a movie theater or a drive-inn.

“But I remember seeing Gone With The Wind at a nearby church,” I said. “A church?” Geezer was surprised. “Yep,” I responded. “Just about all the churches in the vicinity of our farm would rent movies, hang a white sheet up from the ceiling, and have “movie night” every now and then.

Geezer Sayz: “Boy howdy, Sonny Boy, we sure dreamed a lot of dreams and made a lot of memories at the movies when we were youngsters. We sure enough did.”

We sat there silently lost in our memories for long time. A very long time.

NOTE: Don’t miss Part 2: The ’Tween Years coming soon.

Geezer would like to know the names of your favorite classic movies, and the memories they hold for you. Share the stuff that made your dreams with us in the comments section below.

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Talking Heads Panic

“Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen six, result happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure twenty pound ought and six, result misery.” ~ Charles Dickens,  from “David Copperfield.”

My old friend Geezer stopped by recently. “Whew,” he said, as he took a seat on the sofa. “This hot weather really takes it out of you, boy, I can tell you that! Feels good in here, though.”

“How about some iced tea to help cool you down?” I asked. “Don’t mind if I do,” he replied.

I fetched him a glass and, after we exchanged some pleasantries, we settled in to watch the news on TV and enjoy the cold beverage. The TV was tuned to CNBC. Pretty soon we were sitting with our jaws on the floor as we watched the sheer panic of the talking heads covering the Stock Market news. (Watch the video below and you’ll see what I mean.)

“Where have these people been?” Geezer yelled. “Haven’t they seen that people are losing their jobs left and right, manufacturing is disappearing from our shores like a snowball in Hades, we’re becoming more and more a consumer-driven economy, the dad-gummed government is spending us into oblivion, the dollar is losing value by the minute, homeowners are seeing the value of their homes drop below their mortgage balance, we’ll soon be faced with double-digit infla …”

I quickly interrupted. Old Geezer’s face was turning blue. “But there is no inflation, Geezer,” I said. Then his face turned red. “That’s only because the confounded doofusses in Washington figured out all they have to do is stop counting the items that cause the inflation index to go up and … pass the biscuits … no more inflation!”

“Well, the unemployment rate is at least holding steady, or even coming down a little,” I persisted, trying to find some good news. Geezer stood and began pacing. “That’s because the doggoned meatheads only count the people drawing unemployment checks as being unemployed, Sonny! As soon as their unemployment runs out … poof … they don’t exist anymore!”

“At least the housing market is looking better,” I kept pressing, determined to point out something positive. “They’re building new homes again.” Geezer stopped pacing and threw his hands up in the air, “Yeah, like in Las Vegas, where the average home has lost 30 percent of it’s value, sits in an almost abandoned neighborhood filled with snakes, rats and cockroaches, where nobody wants to live anymore! They’re having to build new homes in new neighborhoods in order to at least sell something!”

“So, what do you think? Are we going to get hit with another recession, or what?” I asked. “I don’t know,” Geezer replied. “It depends on whether Congress and Obama can get together and somehow come up with the intestinal fortitude to stop printing money like there’s no tomorrow and get serious about paying down the nearly $15 trillion national debt. They’ve got to put their man pants on and realize we’re in big trouble. It does no good to keep harping about all this “balanced budget” hogwash from the past, either. That doesn’t cut it anymore. We’ve got to start paying off that dad-blamed $15 trillion!”

“Big-girl panties,” I said.

“What?” Geezer looked quizzical.

I said, “The women in Congress will have to put their big-girl panties on. Only the men wear man pants.”

“Alright, Sonny,” Geezer replied. “I’ve warned you about trying to be funny before! Watch it!”

“Well, geeze, Geeze,” I questioned, “if we can’t trust the government to not ‘cook the books,’ and the news media to tell us the truth about what’s happening, how are we going to know if things are really getting better or worse?”

Geezer Sayz: “Sonny Boy, do I have to tell you everything? Look at the price of gasoline! When it goes up, things are usually going to get worse; when it comes down, things might be going to get better, unless the goofballs in Washington decide we need another $1 trillion or so ‘stimulus’ that’ll just vanish into thin air like the last $1 trillion did!”

With that, Geezer grabbed the TV remote and, turning the set off, muttered something under his breath about filling my brain with garbage, and walked out the door.

After turning the TV back on, I’m still sitting here, filling my brain with garbage.

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When Pigs Fly

What more is necessary to make us a happy and prosperous people? Still one thing more … a wise and frugal government, which shall restrain men from injuring one another, which shall leave them otherwise free to regulate their own pursuits of industry and improvement, and shall not take from labor the bread it has earned. This is the sum of good government. ~ Thomas Jefferson – First Inaugural Address, March 4, 1801

It was hot. The cool, pleasant temperatures had given way to record-breaking heat. I didn’t go out to the porch. The cool, air-conditioned air inside felt too good.

I was sitting on the sofa having my “wake-up” cup of coffee, when my old friend Geezer’s familiar knock on the front door broke the silence.

“It’s unlocked!” I shouted. Geezer came inside and, with beads of perspiration on his forehead, didn’t hesitate to take a seat on the other end of the wrap-around.

“How in Sam Hill can you sit there drinking hot coffee in this weather?” Geezer asked. “I’m not in the weather,” I retorted. “I always have coffee when I first get up. It gets me off to a good start.”

“Well, excuuussseee meeee!” Geezer exclaimed. We both broke into good-natured laughter. “How are you today?” I asked. “Well, I’ve been thinking,” Geezer replied. “This early?” I laughed. “Don’t try to be funny, Sonny. I’m serious,” Geezer said.

I felt a life lesson coming on, so I just responded, “OK, what’s on your mind this morning?”

“I was watching the news on TV, and I’ll tell you, Sonny, we’ve got a problem with those danged politicians in Washington. It’s the same old song. The country’s going bankrupt and all they can do is squawk at each other. Nothing ever gets done,” Geezer said.

“Oooohhh kaaayyy,” I  replied, and waited.

Geezer paused, then continued, “Congress can’t pass a budget or keep from borrowing more money, which adds even more to the $14.5 trillion national debt, because the Democrats are all bonkers about the budget proposed by Republican Paul Ryan. They claim it would, ‘End Medicare as we know it,’ and kill the old, the sick, the poor, and just about everyone else by taking away $4.4 trillion over 10 years from the only programs keeping us all alive!

“They can’t raise the debt ceiling because the Republicans want to attach mandatory budget cuts as a pre-condition, which would, according to the Democrats, ‘End Medicare as we know it,’ and kill the old, the sick, the poor, and just about everyone else by taking away money from the only programs keeping us all alive!” Geezer stopped to get his breath.

I saw an opening. “What about the Democrat’s budget? Can’t the Democrats get together with the Republicans and work out something between the two, so the national debt won’t have to be raised, and we won’t all die?”

“Where have you been, Sonny?” Geezer exploded. “All the Democrats have is the president’s budget! The Senate just voted down Ryan’s budget, 57-40! They also voted down the president’s budget 97-0!

“Looks to me like the Democrats are determined to run out the clock on doing anything about our crushing financial situation until after the next elections, just as they did last year,” Geezer concluded.

“Well, what can we do then?” I wondered. “We don’t want to be cutting necessary programs, do we? We have to take care of the aged, the poor, and sick, don’t we?”

Geezer gave me his long, arrow-piercing stare, like I’d said something stupid.

Finally, he spoke. “Sonny, do you know how to catch wild pigs?”

My jaw dropped. I thought it was a joke from out of nowhere. “OK, what’s the punch line?” I asked. “It’s not a joke, Sonny. Do you know how to catch wild pigs?”

“Well, it’s not easy, I know that,” is all I could think of to stammer.

“Sonny,” Geezer said, “it’s really too dad-gummed easy. You catch wild pigs by finding a suitable place in the woods and putting corn on the ground. The pigs find it and begin to come every day to eat the free corn. When they’re used to coming every day, you put a fence down one side of the place where they’re used to coming.

“When they get used to the fence, they begin to eat the corn again and you put up another side of the fence. They get used to that and start to eat again. You continue until you have all four sides of the fence up with a gate in the last side. The pigs, which are used to the free corn, start to come through the gate to eat that free corn again.

“You then slam the gate on them and catch the whole danged herd. Easy as that! Suddenly the wild pigs have lost their freedom. They run around and around inside the fence, but they’re caught. Soon they go back to eating the free corn. They’re so used to it that they’ve forgotten how to forage in the woods for themselves, so they just accept their captivity.

“That is exactly what I see happening in America,” Geezer went on. “The government keeps pushing us toward socialism and keeps spreading the free corn out in the form of programs such as supplemental income, tax credits for unearned income, tax exemptions, tobacco subsidies, dairy subsidies, payments not to plant crops, welfare, medicine, drugs, you name it, while we continually lose our freedoms, just a little at a time.”

“Wow!” I exclaimed, surprised, really. “That’s a little strong, isn’t it?”

Geezer Sayz: “Sonny Boy, one should always keep in mind two truths:  There is no such thing as a free lunch, someone has to pay for it; and when we begin to think that having our government provide for us and make decisions about what is ‘best’ for us is OK, then we’re also giving up the freedom that goes with making our own choices. If we can’t see that all of this wonderful government ‘help’ is a problem confronting the future of our democracy, and if we think the ‘free ride’ is essential to our way of life, then God help us when the gate slams shut!”

Before I could parse all of that in my mind, Geezer was gone. I think I understand his point now, though.

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