Attending a Funeral

I’ll be attending a funeral on Tuesday. My Dad’s youngest sister passed away last week. Most of my interactions with Emma were during my childhood, our lives having gone in different directions since the early 60’s. But she made a big impression on me back then that I have never forgotten.

I was four or five years old. My Dad was attending the University of Richmond full time during the day while working at Reynolds Metals on the graveyard shift. Every morning I would sit in the backseat of my Dad’s Plymouth with a guy named Jan LaPierre who was also a student at UofR, as we drove to Emma’s house, where Dad would drop me off to spend the day with Aunt Emma and my cousin Danny. As a bonus, my grandparents lived in a trailer in the back yard of Emma’s house. This went on for many months and years until I became old enough to attend school. Here’s what I remember from the experience.

For a five year old boy, Aunt Emma was the closest thing to a movie star that I knew. First of all, she was beautiful. Secondly, she was an actual star, the lead singer of the Country Cavaliers, a semi-famous country band in Richmond in the late 50’s and early 60’s. (Think Patsy Cline, only prettier). But the thing I remember most about Emma was her big smile and how incredibly kind she was. Every morning I was greeted with a warm hug and a kiss on the top of my head. Then after she had made sure that Danny and I had eaten a decent breakfast, the two of us were let loose to terrorize the neighborhood unsupervised with the only instructions being, “Make sure you are both back here for lunch!” Ahh yes, the early 60’s—when the most popular parenting style was benign neglect. Danny and I had great fun outside all day. Lunch was always delicious. Since Danny was an only child I remember he always had super cool toys and playing at his house was like an Adventureland. Then late in the afternoon, right before Dad would pull into the driveway to pick me up, Danny and I would gather around my grandmother’s kitchen table for our afternoon snack—peanut butter graham crackers and cold milk.

But it was Aunt Emma who always made us feel safe. I could always sense, even as a five year old that she loved me. Nothing bad would happen to me at Aunt Emma’s. She wouldn’t allow it.

So, I will attend the funeral today. I will reunite briefly with Danny and many of my other cousins from the Dunnevant side of the family. I will not be sad. There is no reason for sadness. Emma was a lovely woman, someone worth celebrating.

Friday the 13th

Whenever you’ve endured a truly terrible week, then wake up to the realization that it’s Friday the 13th, the sensation churning in your stomach is not a pleasant one! In my line of work, there aren’t many weeks as difficult as this one has been. The sell-off in the stock markets has been unrelenting and nerve-wracking. Your forty years of experience assures you that it’s temporary. History, not to mention the actual record, promises a full and complete recovery in time. Still, because we are human beings with beating hearts and not soulless machines, our stomachs churn. “In time, you say? How much time??” The answer is unknowable. But, that unknowability is the reason why long term investors in stock markets are so highly compensated. The price you pay for high returns is that churning stomach.

Friday the 13th is the least of my worries. It’s just another day on the calendar. Aside from the alleged bad luck assigned to it by the poets, it is a Friday which for me brings relief since after 4:00 this afternoon the world’s stock markets will take a 65 hour break. We all will stop obsessing over it, turning our attention elsewhere to more fulfilling projects. Hopefully we will have the opportunity to watch a beautiful sunset while we ponder how it is that a fluctuating number on our balance sheet has such power over our sense of well being. I will spend some time planning for my wedding anniversary weekend getaway next week. We will have been together for 38 years. I think we will spend some time over in Chincoteague. One of the great things about her is that she fell in love with me when my balance sheet was zero. She stayed in love with me during the six years when every spare dime we had went to educate our kids. Now that the coffers are full—although not as much as they were 5 months ago!—she loves me no less than she ever has.

Kaitlin’s Day

This girl was born on May 11th. She made me a parent for the first time. She is irreplaceable, impossible to duplicate. It’s as if she grabbed every good and decent trait from both of her parents and never let go of them. Somehow, she was able to pass on our baser qualities, with the possible exception of her father’s ultra-competitiveness and her mother’s perfectionist streak. She is impossibly bright, a supremely gifted teacher, a loyal and devoted friend, and knows how to pick a husband. If I had fewer fingers, I could count her failings on one hand. At the moment I can only think of a couple...her inability to promptly reply to my texts, and her lack of appropriate enthusiasm for baseball.

Building a Brand and Other Foolishness

Today is packed with busyness, so not much time. However, on occasion this blog has served as an outlet for getting things off my chest, so I will indulge myself this morning. There is a term and philosophy that seems to be taking over the American landscape that annoys the hell out of me and it is this…branding. It manifests itself among athletes, actors and even politicians, and what it amounts to is the monetization of human personality. We hear phrases like, He’s building his brand, or that move was very off-brand. It’s also infecting the business world. Anyone who owns a business is advised to create, enhance, and maintain your brand at any cost. It is the differentiator, we are told. It should serve as a cautionary tale that the patron saints of this branding craze are the Kardashians.

Look, I have nothing against either making money or self-promotion, but viewing life as nothing more than one giant cosmic marketing opportunity is a colossal waste of a life. Human beings are not a brand. We are far more than a marketing scheme. Our purposes on this planet cannot be reduced to a slogan that can be market-tested for the widest acceptance. If being off-brand means anything like acting out of character, then some of the finest hours in my life have come when I have been decidedly off brand. Discovering new things, acting on whims, trying out new experiences that stretch you and challenge you might be off brand, but they constitute personal growth and provide opportunities for learning that following a brand building rubric could never provide.

So, all you people out there desperate to build your brand…get over yourselves. Build a life instead.

Keeping an eye out for Zombie-teachers

Ok, so last night my daughter and her husband FaceTimed their mother. This has become customary on Mother’s Day. Both of our kids place a call to their mother at some point during the day, their faces pop up on the screen and Pam makes do with this weary technological substitute. Earlier in the day, my son and daughter-in-law called from the front porch of their new home, still in their church clothes on a gorgeous sunny day in Nashville. By the time we got the call from Kaitlin and Jon, the family which had been gathered at our house for lunch had gone home, and we had just sat down for a snack supper. Her timing was impeccable.

Anyway, during our thirty minute conversation, Kaitlin casually mentioned that she had recently gone to Target to buy a pair of sunglasses. Now, ordinarily, this bit of news would have been unremarkable, but when she shared what had precipitated the purchase of new sunglasses, it became quite hilarious. My daughter, the one with the master’s degree in English Literature, master teacher, and official smarty-pants, had been astonished to learn upon looking into a random mirror that she had been walking around wearing a pair of sunglasses with only…one lense. She wasn’t sure how long she had been wearing these sunglasses but her best guess was weeks rather than days. Now, at this point I should point out that it is May, teachers everywhere are frantic, bedraggled, and have come to resemble the zombies of the apocalypse. But still…we found it unbelievable that she could have worn such defective sunglasses and not been aware of their defectiveness. Furthermore, how could her fellow teachers not have noticed and said something like, “Yo, Manchester. Your sunglasses are like, missing a lens. you look stupid.” Then, she sent us photographic proof…

Of course, because she has me for a father, I couldn’t let it go. After she had ended the FaceTime call, I started a text back and forth…

The lesson here is for all of you parents of school aged children out there. During the waning days of the school year be especially sensitive to the emotional and physical well being of the teachers in your life. If you see one of them staggering around at the grocery store bumping into things or see one of them trying to get in to the wrong car in a parking lot…or wearing pirate sunglasses, come along side them and offer some encouragement.

Pre-Dawn Dad Jokes

Sometimes when you wake up at 4:22 in the morning, open your iPad and see your country ripping itself apart over yet another contentious social issue it makes you want to write a long impassioned plea for clarity and understanding, hoping to build consensus and foster accommodation and compromise between your countrymen. This is not one of those times.

My friend tried to annoy me with bird puns when I realized…toucan play that game.

What’s the world’s best invention? Window blinds—without them it would be curtains for everyone.

Teacher: How much room is needed for fifteen grams of fungi to grow?

Student: As mushroom as possible.

Teacher: What did the completion of the $3 billion Palace of Versailles make King Louis XIV?

Student: Baroque.

A woman got on a bus with her baby. The bus driver says, “Why, that’s the ugliest baby I’ve ever seen!” The stunned woman went to the back of the bus fuming. She turns to the man sitting next to her and says, “I can’t believe it! That bus driver just insulted me!” The man replied, “You go right back up there and tell him off—go ahead, I’ll hold your dog for you.”

A defense attorney was speaking to his client, who was accused of murder. The attorney says, “I have some good news and some bad news.” “What’s the bad news?” Asked the accused. “The bad news is, your fingerprints are all over the crime scene, and the DNA tests prove you did it.” “What’s the good news?” “Well, your cholesterol is 130.”

One morning at a bank, a robber pulled out a gun, pointed it at the teller and says, “Give me your money or you’re…geography!!” The confused teller asks, “Did you mean to say, ‘or you’re history’?” The robber replied, “Don’t change the subject!”

A women was sitting at the funeral of her recently deceased husband. A man leaned toward her and asked, “Do you mind if I say a word?”

The woman replied, “No, go right ahead.”

The man then stands up and clears his throat and says, “PLETHORA.” Then sits back down.

“Thanks,” the woman says. “that means a lot.”

Professor Kirke: What are you doing in that wardrobe?

Lucy: Narnia business.

Florence: I was so unpopular in school that they used to call me “Batteries”.

Larry: What was that?

Florence: Because I was never included…

A thief comes upon a well dressed man, jabs a pistol in his ribs and says, “Give me your money!”

The gentlemen says, “You can’t do this,. I’m a United States Congressman!”

The thief says, “Well, in that case, give me my money.”

Teacher: Did you copy this essay about the Black Death off of the internet?

Student: Yes. I’m sorry. I am a bubonic plague-a-rist….

My ex-wife still misses me…

But her aim is getting better.

Congressman: I think I’m going to try the charm offensive

Constituent: Well,. I think you’re already halfway there.

Oh boy….

This morning brought terrible news to anyone who has grown weary of the factionalism, discord and division that has overtaken life in America over the past several years. With the overnight leak of a first draft of a pending Supreme Court decision which would overturn Roe v. Wade, we are about to enter in to the mother of all culture war battles that will make the unrest that followed the murder of George Floyd look like a walk in the park. If you, on the other hand, love shrieking, unhinged invective, absurd street theatrics, spittle spewing diatribes on cable television, weeping news anchors and traffic clogging demonstrations…you are in for the time of your life!

Then there’s this…

I’m not sure I have ever seen a more telling, ironic, and hilariously absurd photograph than this one. Whoever snapped this deserves a Pulitzer. (Do they give Pulitzers for photography?). This is our former Secretary of State attending the 2022 Met Gala. She looks absolutely radiant, beaming from ear to ear wearing a stunning gown that no doubt cost a zillion dollars. In the background, a line of photographers are capturing the moment, while an African American attendant is busy spreading out the train of her dress—all fully masked—while Mrs. Clinton flashes her perfect white teeth for the cameras.

I’ll just leave this here…