God Bless Good Friends

The Dunnevants had a very social week. We hosted two groups of friends for dinner, and babysat my grand niece for a day. The house has been eerily clean all week. The dishwasher has been taxed heavily. Our local grocery store now has us on their Christmas card list. But now, with the arrival of the weekend it’s all over. We have nothing on our social calendar for the next couple of weeks...and it feels good. But all of this socializing has me waxing philosophical about the need we humans have for good friends.

If someone were to ask me what the key ingredients are for a good life, I would probably say things like...family, faith, good health, and a job you enjoy. Don’t misunderstand...all of these things are important. But what about good friends? How crucial are they?

Every human being develops over time a personal guidance system which helps them identify dangers and avoid them. This guidance system is built slowly over your lifetime. All kinds of things contribute to the construction of this GS...your genetics, your environment, education and experience are big contributors. But, this GS doesn’t just help you identify the dangers in life, it also helps you spot the opportunities and equips you to discern an opportunity from a scam. The trouble is, nobody’s GS is foolproof...because we are all susceptible to error. That’s where good friends with good judgement come in.

If you are lucky enough to have a large and supportive family, you’ve got at least half of life licked. For me, this is particularly true. I have a wise and thoughtful wife, smart and discerning siblings. When my parents were alive, they were towers of common sense. Now, my two grown kids have turned out to be surprising sources of sharp insight. So, I am extraordinarily fortunate in this regard. But, even I need wise council from outside my family from time to time.

Now, every friend, even every close friend, isn’t always a reliable advisor...

ME: I think I’m going to take a second mortgage out on my house and buy that Bentley I’ve had my eye on.

FRIEND #1: Go for it, man! You only live once. Seize the day is what I say!

FRIEND #2: Wait..what? Are you freaking nuts?!

In this example, friend #1 is probably a lot more fun to hang with. He’s also the guy most likely to call you in the middle of the night to ask if he can crash at your place since his wife just threw him out of the house. Friend #2 however, has probably earned the right to get in your grill about this hair brain Bentley scheme, because he’s known you long enough to understand your weaknesses. He remembers the time you almost quit your job to pursue becoming a full-time poet. He was the one who slapped you across the face and reminded you that the last time an American made a decent living writing poetry it was Walt Whitman...but poor old Walt never made beans until he had been dead fifty years.

Sure, these are extreme examples, but you get it, don’t you? Each of us have friends like #1 and #2 above. And, thank God for both of them.

So, on a week where we have been surrounded by them, a tribute to dear friends seems in order. They are the people that enrich our lives by their existence. They are the people who laugh with us, celebrate with us, pray with us and cry with us in equal measure. They are the ones who are happy for us when we succeed, not resentful. They are the ones who are crushed by the things that crush us. They are the ones who in the midst of the worse times in life can be counted on to be there with their sleeves rolled up doing what needs to be done, without even asking...because they didn’t need to ask...they just knew.

God Bless good friends.

Lucy and Evelyn

Lucy has a new best buddy.

Yesterday, Pam kept Evelyn for the day. For those of you who haven’t met Evelyn, she is the beautiful little red-headed daughter of my niece, Christina Garland. Chrissy had some sort of daycare issue this week so the family helped fill in the gaps for her. Yesterday was Pam’s turn. Of course, Pam being Pam, the day was filled with learning activities and fun projects. Essentially, like a day at one of those expensive private pre-schools only this one was actually great fun. What nobody counted on was Lucy and Evelyn becoming...a thing.

It was surprising because Lucy hasn’t spent a lot of time around children. Our previous Golden, Molly (The World’s Greatest Dog)...grew up around kids, hundreds of them. Our house was constantly being overrun with teenagers during Molly’s time so she developed a love of them quite early. It resulted in a level of patience that seemed supernatural, and caused her to be willing to suffer practically any humiliation as long as it made everyone happy...

Lucy, on the other hand has lived a more isolated life. But yesterday, from the beginning—after the introductory excitement wore off—Lucy and Evelyn hit it off tremendously...

When I got home from work, I went upstairs to my dependable recliner, only to find that my reclining room had been commandeered and repurposed...

In other words, my house had magically been transported back in time, looking exactly as it did 25 years ago when my own kids would sprawl out on the floor with all manner of toys, lost in their make believe world. Of course that meant that the house always looked like a bomb had just gone off...but it was a glorious mess. Good Lord in heaven, I cannot wait for a grandchild...

My Daughter’s Moment

I must begin this post by stating the fact that I am generally not favorably inclined to the concept of going on strike for something. The entire concept flies in the face of one of my bedrock beliefs...ie, that you don’t get ahead in life...by demand...you get ahead in life ...by performance. But, life is all about the exceptions, isn’t it? Very few hard and fast rules hold up in every case, there are always exceptions. In my 40 year association, by proxy, with this nation’s public education system—being married to, sibling of and father of public school teachers, I have come to the conclusion that no tool, no matter how blunt, should be denied anyone unlucky enough to be employed as a teacher. Especially, if you are employed in South Carolina.

I will not regale you with all of the details of the issue. Suffice it to say that when your state ranks at or near the bottom of practically every measurable educational outcome that exists, there are truckloads of blame to go around. South Carolina education is a hot mess. So much so that a couple of weeks ago, my daughter shared with me about a decision she was trying to make with regards to a planned teacher walkout planned for today, May the 1st. Her conundrum was that while she too was fed up with the incompetence of leadership and the ignorance of politicians, not to mention the deplorable conditions under which she is asked to teach...she also dearly loved her students and had a great admiration and respect for her Principal. The thought of abandoning her students bothered her. The terrible inconvenience  and disruption this walkout would cause made her feel badly for her Principal...since nonbe of her problems were his fault. 

To make a long story short, my daughter sent him an amazing e-mail, explaining her decision to participate in the walkout. It was full of respect for him, gratitude for his support, and offered her help in fashioning a solution to what would be the distruptions of the day. In other words, it was the perfect way to have a disagreement with a superior. Be part of the solution, not part of the problem. His reply to her was equally gracious and respectful. An amazing corrrespondance that had me shaking my head...Why can’t our elected politicians disagree like this? 

So, today is the big day. Kaitlin, along with scores of other teachers from around the state are marching on the state capital. Let me allow my daughter to explain. This, from her Facebook post of this morning...

My school adopted a character education curriculum recently. This month, we’ve asked students to identify their core values, to assess how well their actions align with those values, and to live a life of courageous integrity. The morning News Show today ended with these words of wisdom: “If you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for everything.”

Today, I told each of my classes that I’d be marching to the State House tomorrow to stand up for what I believe in . . . and what I believe in is THEM. 

They — my students — deserve smaller class sizes; access to more mental health professionals and programs; safe, calm learning environments; and the freedom to LEARN, uninterrupted by excessive testing. My students deserve teachers who are fairly compensated, supported, and treated with respect: teachers who want to stick around. My students deserve to live in a culture that views education as an honorable and competitive profession.

What do I stand for? I stand for my 12 and 13-year-olds, who deserve infinitely more than a “minimally adequate” education.

#alloutmay1 #scfored ❤️💪🏻

This, from a teacher who has won every award for outstanding performance it is possible to win as a school teacher. This, from someone who loves teaching, loves learning, and loves her students. But what she doesn’t love are gutless and incompetent politicians and administrators who pile one ridiculous demand after another on top of her each and every year with no regard for how any of it will affect her students, or her own ability to do her job. 

So...she is walking out today. 

Kaitlin Elizabeth Manchester is a hero.

My Father In Law

The guy in this photograph is my father in law, Russ White. This was taken a couple of years ago up at the lake house in Maine. However, it could very easily have been taken at Dummers Beach...any year over the past four decades. This is what he is known for whenever he gets near water in Maine. Naps. The only thing missing is an open copy of a Reader’s Digest folded across his stomach and those dreadful olive drab cut-off shorts he used to wear. His birthday was last week. 

One of the reasons that my wife is such a kind and tender hearted person is the influence of this guy. All he has ever done in his life is demonstrate for his kids and anyone else who knew him what it means to be...a gentleman. He treats people well, always more interested in their welfare than his own. He has reservoirs of patience that seem bottomless. He also possesses an excellent sence of humor, and a willingness to humiliate himself for the benefit of teenagers. When I was one, his performance with Roy Fama as Mario Pepperoni was an epic show that still gets talked about 45 years later!! Speaking of that epic patience? He was an Awana commander for a couple of decades at his church. If corralling a hundred elementary school kids in a church gymnasium every week isn’t the very definition of patience, then I don’t know what is!

But, my father in law has his faults too. For one thing, he’s an unrepentant Redskins fan. Although, he almost makes up for that by hating the Yankees, so that’s a wash, I suppose. See, even when I try to balance this tribute with a listing of his faults, I just can’t. Russ White is simply...the man.

Best part is...he gave me this woman, who inherited his graciousness, kindness, and servant’s heart.

Happy Birthday, Russ.

My Future Plans

2024 will be a big year in my life, assuming that I’m still alive. I take nothing for granted when contemplating the future. None of us is guaranteed anything in this life, and besides, obsessing about the future can rob you of the present. The famous John Lennon lyric comes to mind...Life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans. So, I try to stay as grounded in the here and now as much as I can...with varying degrees of success. But, 2024 will be big and to ignore it would be foolish. What’s so special about 2024, you ask?

1. I turn 66 and become eligible for full retirement benefits from Social Security.

2. My house will be paid off, leaving me completely debt free for the first time since I was 18.

3. It is the year I have always circled on my life clock to begin the process of winding down my professional career.

Number three will be a process. I actually enjoy parts of my job, namely the relationships I have built with hundreds of clients, working closely with them over the years to help them reach their goals, and now watching them enjoy the fruits of their labors. That amounts to roughly 25% of the job. The rest is the soul-crushing stuff...the mountains of paperwork, the legal and compliance issues, the ever more complex regulatory gauntlet that must be endured each and every year. Since I never want to give up the relationships part of the business, I plan to hire out the drudgery of the other 75% to someone else starting in 2024. This will dramatically free up my schedule for other pursuits:

1. Purchasing a lake house in Maine where I intend to live from June through September of each year. Pam and I will spend our summers in our favorite place in the world. We will host a procession of guests throughout our four months there, from our kids, to other family members, to dear friends who we can’t wait to introduce to the Maine experience. If an opportunity doesn’t present itself to purchase a place, we will become someone’s all-time favorite renter. Either way, we are doing this.

2. Being Grandparents. By 2024, surely we will get our chance. I don’t know that I have looked forward to anything quite so much as becoming a grandfather. I have watched my friends do it, seen all the pictures, heard all the stories. I can’t wait! I fully intend to spoil them to within an inch of their lives. I’m also quite sure that I will scare my children to death with the plans I have to instill a sence of risk-taking exuberance into my grandchildren. 

3. Become a published author. Just because I will have backed away from the day to day demands of my business does not mean that I will abandon the pursuit of accomplishment and a new source of income. 2024 will herald my second professional act, or a grand side hustle if you will. I intend to write...a lot. And, finally, I will have the time to devote to pursuing getting stuff published.

4. Travel. I have been fortunate enough in my life to visit some beautiful places, but nowhere near enough of them. I want to see all of Europe that’s worth seeing, not just Switzerland and Britain. I want to go to Australia, would love to visit Africa to see what all of my missionary friends have been raving about all these years. I could even be persuaded to spend a couple of weeks in the South Pacific.

Of course, all of this is tentative, totally dependent on fate and God’s will. But, I have found that it does help to have at least the outline of a plan for the future. The key is to not write everything down in ink. Always be willing to employ an eraser if life throws you a curve. But, this is the plan today...April 29, 2019.

Can’t wait.

Yardsale’s Over...and I lived to tell about it!

About twelve hours ago, my eyes popped open from a long night’s sleep. Ordinarily when this happens on a Saturday, the first light of day brings a sence of euphoria, the thrill of possibility. But today, the first murky strands of thought were of impending doom, of grave foreboding. For, today was...Yardsale Day. Of course, by the time I awoke, Pam had already been up for an hour planning...strategizing, plotting out her steps. She had already struck several items off of her To-Do List, affixed to her game-day clipboard. She shot me a piercing side eye as I trudged down the stairs for my morning coffee, already disappointed with my inadequate sence of urgency. She had already placed our bagel order with the Mechanicsville Panera and we needed to be there at 6:45 sharp to pick it up..and she was not enthused with my lollygagging. Despite her early concerns, I rallied and we made it to Panera with 30 seconds to spare.

The same could not be said for the rest of the set up crew. When we pulled into the driveway at ground zero, only Ron was there. At 6:55, we only had 15 minutes to get 17 fully loaded tables out of the garage and into place before the early worms started stumbling, ghost-like out of the Mechancisville mist like a pack of bargain hunting zombies. Apparently, two of our crew had overslept...having not heard their alarm. Another had fallen victim to that rarest of all occurrences...the 7 am traffic backup on 295. Still another when she arrived, reminded us that she is not a morning person. An inauspicious and uninspired beginning.

But before you could say...What in the Sam Hill is going on around here?....the floor displays were all in place and the first of a nearly five hour wave of shoppers had descended on the place. They proceeded to pick over our merchandise like hungry jackals. 

Every year there’s this one item that baffles us all. Where did it come from? What the heck is it? Surely, nobody is going to pay real money for this, right? This...thing...is this year’s item. How to describe? It sort of looks like an attempt at a honey comb, or bee hive, maybe? It is festooned with an array of shiny little yellowish pieces of faux diamond knock offs. But, upon closer inspection, there appears to be a face at the top, the little pink ball nose of either a cat or a bunny, with darker pink eyes. Whatever this creature is supposed to be...he/she is carrying some sort of flower basket without the benefit of any discernible appendages. Adding to the mystery, the creature’s insides have been hollowed out in order to hold a string of Christmas lights, which, once stuffed inside, make it glow brilliantly, as if he/she had just eaten some radioactive gruhl. Well, I’ll have you know that somebody did pay real money for it. She even asked us to plug in the string of lights to make sure they worked...as if this was crucial to her decision. When the lights flashed, she was sold!!

To make this story complete, I must reveal that at the time of sale we discovered that the creature had...a hat. This piece of the ensemble added nothing to our understanding of what had just happened as we watched this delighted customer leave with her treasure.

Then there was this.

Ok, my sainted mother used to have this wall clock which every hour on the hour would emit the shrill call of a different bird. It always freaked me out whenever I was over there for lunch and that dreadful hoot owl would scare the crap out of me at noon with his entirely too loud and synthesized HOOOOOT. I couldn’t imagine any wall clock being worse than the Hitchcockian nightmare that hung in my Mom’s kitchen....until I was introduced to...Divine Time. This beauty, which comes with handy, glow in the dark minute and hour hands, and speaks two different languages, features the booming voice of the spoken word belting out passages of scripture to herald the arrival of each new hour. It is described as the Scripture reading time piece, which is misleading and, in fact, not true at all. This plastic clock with bonus fake wood stand does not read anything. It bellows out prerecorded scripture every hour, all through the night when most people are trying to, you know...sleep. But, before I could wrap my head around the existence of such a thing in our universe, it had vanished, scarfed up by an eager Spanish-speaking woman...

...the fastest two bucks we’ve ever made.

Of course, no yard sale would be complete without a few mishaps. Early on, I heard the faint sound of breaking glass, but by the time I made it over to the scene, the customers had disappeared. Clean up on aisle three!! A little mercury poisoning never hurt anybody!

At the Dunnevant Yardsale, even our plastic bags are organized and neatly folded...

One of our youngest family members was given cash register duties this year and performed like a champ. She was exposed to enough give and take, hustle and bustle, and wheeling and dealing to last her a lifetime. She was a natural. I can actually see her becoming a trader in the pit on Wall Street one day. This particular customer doesn’t appear convinced, however. Her side eye suggests that perhaps she thinks we should have a more experienced huckster at the register. To which I say...Well, how is the next generation going to learn how to make money selling worthless junk to the public unless we give them a chance? We can’t all work at Walmart, you know!

They kept coming. In long, relentless lines, they came. Even when we were tearing everything down and packing it all up for a run to GoodWill and then the dump...they still came, one dude paid us six bucks for a bag of crap that was in the going to the dump pile not fifteen minutes before we were about to leave.

We even got a van load of church ladies who all wore orange t-shirt uniforms on a day trip from beautiful, down town Hayensville.
They were on a mission, their leader told me...a mission from God.

Well, I said, have I got a wall clock for you!!!

And just like that...it was over. The numbers are still a bit murky at this hour, but the estimate is that we netted somewhere between $850 and $1050.

God. Bless. America.

An Invitation

My family’s biennial excursion into the murky depths of unregulated, unrestrained Capitalism has begun. Last night, Pam and I loaded up the car with tables and as much inventory as we could squeeze in and made the first trip over to ground zero. Today, I will make a mid-morning trip over with load number two, followed by a third trip tonight. This year’s fare seems promising...plenty of worthless junk to compliment enough bigger ticket items to make it interesting. I’m thinking we might make a run at our all time record haul of $1100. If we do, it will be because of my salesmanship...

Customer: Do these remote controlled Formula One cars work?

Me: Maybe. Maybe not. 

Customer: Why would I want two Formula One remote control cars that don’t work?

Me: Look man...if you want two Formula One remote control cars that work, go to a toy store and pay a hundred bucks. Or, you could come to this yard sale and take a chance on these babies for 5 lousy bucks. What’s it gonna be??

Customer: But, shouldn’t you have tested them before hand to see if they work?

Me: (turning the car over to show customer the missing 12 volt battery). That would have required the purchase of a battery, which would have driven up the price. We thought it best to keep our cost down. Look Mack...you look like a decent guy, probably pretty good with your hands and stuff. Even if these things don’t work, a real man like you could figure out how to fix ‘em, am I right? Sure I am! Now, take these cars over to that good looking blonde at the cash table before I raise the price!

In a hundred such exchanges, merchandise gets moved at the Dunnevant Family Yard Sale. It is a dizzying display of audacious claims, dubious fact-free sales pitches and blatant hustling...

Claim: This sequined jacket was once worn by Elvis himself!!

FACT CHECK: false

Claim: This baseball glove never made an error in over 100 little league games!!

FACT CHECK: Technically true since gloves don’t make errors...players do.

Claim: Mrs. Williams, if you don’t buy this bejeweled purple statuette of Dolly Parton, you will regret it for the rest of your life.

FACT CHECK: false

Despite mountains of unverifiable statements, exaggerations and hyperbole...I am able to move more knickknackery than all other family members combined. It’s not even close.

So, if you’re looking for a fun and entertaining way to spend your Saturday morning, I want to extend a personal invitation to all of you to come out and see what all of Mechanicsville will be buzzing about. I look forward to seeing all of you at:

7105 Peach Orchard Lane

Mechanicsville, Va. 23111

8:00 am to 1:00 pm