What We’ve Been Up To

So, today was amazing and fun. We decided to rent a couple of bikes and ride over to Assateague Island and do the wildlife loop trail. It was a delightful 74 degrees and sunny at 9:00 am when we peddled out of the Bike Depot on Chincoteague. We hadn’t made it a quarter mile before I got my first reprimand from Pam who was behind me. She took exception to me showing her how I could ride with no hands. The woman has zero sense of humor when it comes to my brand of high jinx, something that has caused her 38 years of indigestion. She probably wasn’t thrilled when she saw me attempt this selfie while we were on the trail, but it just had to be done…

It should be pointed out that numerous times I offered to surrender the point to her, but each time she refused, while muttering something like, “no, no…you go ahead. Just try a little harder not to give me a heart attack”

Anyway, about halfway through the loop trail there was a brief detour that took you close to the beach. Once there, you were asked to park your bike and walk the hundred yards or so over the dunes to see the view. When we crested the dunes, this is what we saw:

As far as the eye could see in both directions, untouched, unspoiled beach. Way off in the distance to the north we spotted one human being. It was breathtaking. We just walked around for a while taking pictures and smiling…

I finally got Pam to take the point on the home stretch…

One of the themes of this trip has been, down here, we eat kinda what we want, when we want it. Since Pam had eaten no breakfast before our 7.5 mile bike ride she was psyched to get back to the condo for a cup of fat-free yogurt sprinkled with all-bran that had her name on it. But in a surprising development opted for Mister Whippy instead…

…where haute cuisine meets island shabby.

As soon as we woofed these guys down we turned in our bikes, then drove back to the condo to apply some sunscreen, and headed back to the beach where all the human beings are. Once there we lunched on some really high quality kettle corn, Cheetos and washed it all down with Mountain Dew. Tonight we have reservations at AJ’s on the Creek, a nice restaurant, which we are assured, serves real food. It is pour intention to order an appetizer of questionable nutritional value, a couple of calorie-drenched entree’s which come with a 25% off coupon for your first by-pass operation, then indulge our sweet tooth with ice cream from the Island Creamery, who’s slogan reads, “Well, you’ve gotta die of something!”

Day One

There is an estuary just off the back of our condo in Chincoteague which is filled and emptied by the tides. When we arrived yesterday it had been reduced to a thin and shallow stream and a wide bed of mud teaming with life. When we got back from dinner it was three feet deep, reflecting moonbeams that lit up the grassy marsh. Now at 5:30 in the morning, it is emptying out again, the starlings flitting this way and that all along the water’s surface, while the sun lights up the eastern sky in the distance…

Speaking of dinner, our’s was delightful. We had the Bada Bing Shrimp appetizer at the Ropewalk Restaurant and could have left happy after that alone. Then they brought us the entree, a scallop feast on a bed of rice with lump crab meat and tomatoes…

Of course, after dinner we were obligated by the forces of nature and nature’s God to visit the Island Creamery for prodigious helpings of ice cream served on home made waffle cones.

Consequently, today will feature much outdoor exercise to make restitution for last night’s epicurean delights. A good thing since I feel certain that tonight will feature similar deliciousness.

I hate to mention this considering what our Short Pump friends will have to endure today, but today the forecast is for partly sunny skies and 72 degrees.

In a World Where You Can Be Anything…Be Kind

A word about my Aunt’s funeral today.

My brother Donnie was asked by the family to perform the service. He drove down from Maryland and did a wonderful job. Over the last several years since he retired, my brother has taken up being a professional encourager. I only recently leaned that he would call Emma every Monday morning to talk. She had been battling cancer for four years, perhaps that was why he called her so faithfully. At the service he deadpanned, “Hey, I’m retired now, I’ve got nothing else to do.” But I’m sure it meant the world to her. Because he and Emma had music in common, he would often play her his latest composition over the phone. So, at the funeral he played and sang a couple of her favorite hymns, then closed the service out with a wonderful, haunting arrangement of Wayfaring Stranger. In between the music, he retold some of Emma’s favorite stories from when she was growing up on the farm with my Dad. It was a lovely time spent with cousins and my brother and sisters.

But perhaps the most incredible thing about the funeral was what I learned about Aunt Emma that I was clueless about. I mentioned in yesterday’s blog that she was in a semi-famous country and western band back in the late 50’s and early 60’s called the Country Cavaliers. What I learned today at her funeral was just how much of a freaking big deal she was!! I walked in to the Bliley’s chapel over on Hull Street road and saw a big screen right above her casket upon which  a series of photographs were scrolling by, shots of Emma as a teenager, pictures of her and her sister and my Dad when they were just kids. But then, out of the blue, I see a picture of Emma looking movie-star gorgeous standing next to a smiling…Willie Nelson!! It was back when he had short hair and no beard, but it was Willie Nelson, or at least I thought it was. Then the next shot goes up. This one has Emma cozied up with Johnny Cash. The next thing I know, a succession of pictures of my beautiful Aunt Emma with a cavalcade of country music legends…Buck Owens, Porter Wagoner, Lester Flatt, Earl Scruggs. It was only then that I discovered that the Country Cavaliers served as the house band for the New Dominion Barn Dance which aired every Saturday night of WTVR for eleven years. In those years Emma’s band often played and sang backup for these stars whenever they came through town. Amazing.

But, here’s the best thing about the service. Everyone who spoke kept saying the same thing, using the exact same word to sum up who Emma was. that word was…Kind. That’s the word I think of when remembering her, but I knew her well when I was just a child. But apparently, it was no act because that’s all anyone could talk about today, how kind she was. What a glorious legacy for any human being.

My daughter probably doesn’t remember Emma, but as a teacher down in Columbia, South Carolina she has a slogan of sorts and she keeps it on display in her classroom and on her social media pages. Here’s what it says…

“In a World Where You Can Be Anything…Be Kind.”

Thanks, Aunt Emma for leading the way.

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.