Monday, December 23, 2019

Be Aware When Going to Whole Foods



This morning I stopped by Whole Foods in Chapel Hill for breakfast. I don’t stop there often anymore but this morning I was there…again. As I sat down I remembered being at that same spot on September 11, 2001 and hearing about the 9/11 attacks for the first time. 

Today it was another surprise. I was reading the news on my iPad and came across an article announcing the death of Ram Dass. I was not shocked by the news but really shocked by my response. I felt a deep sense of loss, as if I had lost a close friend. Fortunately, I was alone and could allow myself a few moments to feel the emotion. I found the Ram Dass Facebook page where thousands of people were commenting. I added mine, hoping this simple act might matter to someone. I wrote:

After hearing Ram Dass speak in 1971 my life was never the same. I sense his Being...here…Now.


Saturday, December 7, 2019

Dallas Cowboys Give Back


Yesterday I had a pleasant text message exchange with Steve Rodriguez who is an extremely nice guy in Louisville.

Steve wrote, “Remember that Cowboys jacket I got from u a while back?”

I remembered because the jacket had a history. About 10 years ago a generous woman, Laura Ring, gave me a bag of clothes to share with some panhandlers in my neighborhood. Laura had an unusual but admirable respect for the panhandlers and their difficult lifestyles. Included in the bag of clothing was an almost-new Dallas Cowboys leather jacket. 

I made a decision to take the really cool leather jacket intended for the homeless guys and instead give it to the only Dallas Cowboys fan that I knew – Steve Rodriguez. I asked my wife to wrap it up so we could give it to Steve for Christmas. I enjoyed watching Steve open and appreciate the gift. I also felt a slight ambivalence because I knew the homeless guys in my neighborhood might have hated the Dallas Cowboys but they would have appreciated the warmth of that jacket.

Steve’s message yesterday continued. “I went to a function with the Portland Christian School to feed the less fortunate during Thanksgiving and I found a Cowboys fan that needed a winter coat and I gave it to him. He loved it and I was blessed.”

It took about ten years but the jacket finally found its destination. 

I texted back to Steve, “Thanks for paying it forward. If it ever comes back to me I will give it to you again.”

Tuesday, November 12, 2019

Peace on Earth







Human beings are capable of destroying the ecosystem of our entire planet
- the ultimate insanity.

And yet...at places like Brookgreen Gardens

Human beings are capable of creating beautiful celebrations of our environment
- for all of humanity.

Saturday, October 5, 2019

Eulogy for Wilma Owen

February 2, 1923
September 30, 2019

On the drive over this morning I was talking to my wife about this eulogy and I guess she sensed a little concern on my part so she asked, “What’s the worst that can happen?” I said, “Well, I guess the worst thing is I won’t be able to finish it.” She said, “That’s not bad. It’ll be shorter.”
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A few weeks ago, Carol and I were up here visiting my mother. My mother knew then that she was about to begin hospice care and that her life was close to the end. She and I had many frank conversations over the years so I felt okay asking her two questions. I asked, “What are you most afraid of and what are you most hopeful for at this stage of your life?”

She didn’t respond right away but the next morning she said, “Last night I woke up in the middle of the night and I was thinking about those two questions. On the first one I decided…I am not afraid of anything. I used to be afraid of things but now I am not afraid of anything.” I asked, “What about the other question? What are you most hopeful for?” She said, “Well, I hope I die before all of my hair falls out.” 

We laughed for a few moments and then she went on to say that she hoped she would not die before Patrick’s wedding on September 21 because she did not want to disrupt anybody’s travel plans. She also said she hoped that soon after Patrick’s wedding she would “just float away and leave behind all of the pain that has been holding on to me for so long.” And I think that is what happened on Monday morning of this week. She finally just floated away.

The minister, Tom, knows that my mother, like most of us, has sometimes had a voice of doubt. Over the years and especially after she passed ninety, she often had doubts about her purpose in life. She would ask, “Why is God keeping me alive? There just doesn’t seem to be any purpose for it.”

It was ironic that she was unsure about her life’s purpose because it was obvious to many of us. Her purpose…her talent… her super power was her effortless ability to make meaningful connections with people. She made countless mutually-supportive, meaningful connections with people during each decade of her life. Some of the strongest connections were made right here, in this church. This church and its members were extremely important to her, especially after the death of her husband 21 years ago. Her connections in this church helped her move on from that difficult transition. So, she did move on and she continued to make new, meaningful, strong connections within each community she joined.

She continued to make connections all the way to her last stop…eight months ago when she moved to the skilled nursing care building at Westminster Terrance. Her roommate’s name was Alma, the same name as my mother’s mother, so we all suspected that they might get along. My mother made such a strong connection with Alma that this week as she was dying Alma rolled her wheelchair over to our side of the room and said, “I’ve only known her for eight months but she is like family to me.”

So, if Alma was like family I am sure she heard a lot from my mother about her grandchildren; Wesley, Amanda, Brent and Patrick. My mother took such great pride and satisfaction in the lives and achievements of her grandchildren. They were all so closely connected to her, especially Amanda who had the sweetest granddaughter/grandmother relationship imaginable. 

I am sure Alma heard about my mother’s niece, Marsha Staiger, who she had recently started calling “My Fairy God Mother” because they had that kind of connection. She likely heard about my mother’s nephews, Robert and Richard Brent, with whom she had special, life-long, deeply personal connections.

I am sure Alma observed how my mother got a little less secure when my brother was out of town and how she relaxed when he returned. This was because my brother was her personal, reliable safety net for 21 years since our father died. 

Alma might have heard my mother complain about never having had a daughter and just being stuck with two sons. I used to joke around with my brother that he could remedy the problem if he would just get a sex change operation…but I knew he wouldn’t do it because it was just too expensive.

We couldn’t be daughters for her but we did bring to her daughters-in-law that helped fill the void of not have a daughter of her own. I know my wife has valued her connection with my mother and that the two of them taught each other a lot over 32 years about how to be strong, independent-thinking women.

Now I can almost hear my mother’s voice in my ear saying, “Michael, you don’t have to mention everybody. I did not win the Academy Award. I just died.”

But I will mention that I am sure that if she could she would walk across the hall after this service and thank everyone here for the role you had in her life and if you didn’t have a role in her life she would use the opportunity to start creating one.

I also know she would want one more connection mentioned and that was the relationship she had with her niece, Sharon Price and Sharon’s friend, Judy. Their connection can only be described as a thing of beauty. And as Sharon and I were discussing earlier this week, the connection that we feel with Aunt Sis, Grandma, Meme, Wilma, Willie, Mother, Mom is not going anywhere. That sense of connection we feel today is as strong as it was last week and it will be just as strong next week. That sense of connection will always be available whenever we need it as long as we live and maybe longer.

Tuesday, August 27, 2019

My New Haircut


When Carol and I go on long road trips we seldom listen to music. We don’t even turn on the radio. We spend most of the time talking or listening to each other. The following dialog is a short portion of a conversation we had this week while driving home from Louisville.

Carol: You know you will need to get a haircut before Patrick’s wedding.

Michael: I know.

Carol: Please, please don’t get another crappy haircut. This time it matters. You don’t want to embarrass Patrick with your usual stupid Super Cuts haircut.

Michael: The Super Cuts haircuts don’t always suck. Once or twice I have come home with a Super Cut and you haven’t even noticed.

Carol: In thirty-two years how often has that happened?

Michael: Maybe twice…okay once.

Carol: How many have sucked? How many times has your haircut been so severe that you could see white, untanned skin all around your neck? How many of your cheap haircuts have taken your head weeks to recover?

Michael: Okay, that has happened a few times. I think the worst one was the damn haircut that made me look like Christian Lattner. That one really did suck. I wanted to call the cops on that barber.

Carol: Promise me you will get a good haircut this time.

Michael: Okay, but tell me what you consider a good haircut.

Carol: A good haircut doesn’t look like you just had one. If you get a good haircut the stylist will groom your eyebrows and ears and remove hair from all of your…hairy places.

Michael: (laughing) I can imagine asking a barber to remove all the hair from my hairy places. The freaking barber would say, “Listen buddy, I am not going near all your hairy places. If you want your hairy places trimmed you’re gonna have to ask your wife to do it. “

Carol: You know what I mean. Would you like me to ask my stylist if she will cut your hair?

Michael: No. But if I did how much would it cost?

Carol: About forty-five dollars.

Michael: No way. That’s more than I pay for a year’s worth of haircuts.

Carol: And how do think that is working for ya?

Michael: Forty-five dollars!  That’s more than we used to pay to have the dog groomed. Maybe I should get my hair cut at the vet. I’ve often thought the vet offered a better deal on healthcare than the Family Practice Clinic. Maybe they can offer a better deal on haircuts.

Carol: You know when they groomed the dog they also drained his anal gland. 

Michael:  Point taken. Let’s ask Patrick for a suggestion for a good place to get a new haircut. He once mentioned a place where they offer free beer and sports on TV. Maybe I should look into that. 

Saturday, August 17, 2019

Retirement: A Stairway to Heaven

Retirement is neither bad nor good.
It is a blank slate. A time to reflect and look under my own hood.
I guess I could just sit around and wonder what it might feel like to be ninety seven
Or I could try to learn something relevant on ukulele like the Stairway to Heaven.



Saturday, February 23, 2019

The Lucky Ones


The lucky ones have already died.
They’ve gone ahead and migrated over to the other side.
They are no longer suffering or relying on pain meds just to get by.

The lucky ones have already died.
They no longer have to struggle to remember answers to questions about where or why.
They no longer have to search for words to help them pretend or deny.


The lucky ones have already died.
They’ve looked straight into their loved one's tearful eyes.
They’ve taken their chances and said their goodbyes.

The lucky ones have already died.

Tuesday, January 8, 2019

Everything Was Possible


This week I reconnected with an old friend with whom I had lost contact for about 44 years. The connection was made possible through the magic of the Internet and a helpful assist from another old friend. The Internet can be extremely bad or extremely good. This time it was good.

My old friend, Tom, and I were close friends when we were in our early twenties. For a while we shared a big house in the West End of Louisville with two other friends, Lloyd, and Jan. I think it was in the summer of 1973 that Tom and I took off in his brand-new car and drove across the country camping out, smoking pot, and creating funny adventures. We got separated in San Francisco (another story) but we both eventually found our way back to the big house in the West End of Louisville.

Not long after we returned from our trip(s) Tom walked into my room and told me that he was gay. He looked sincere but I was skeptical. I knew Tom sometimes made quick (impulsive) decisions so I said something like, “I don’t think it works like that. You don’t just decide one day you’re gay.” * Tom told me that he suspected that he had always been gay. He had just been denying it. I was a little shocked. I thought this was a pretty big deal for Tom. However, I did not think it was going to make much difference in our relationship...and it didn’t.

A few months passed and Tom moved to the Pacific Northwest. He bought an old house outside of Granite Falls, Washington. He named his house The Institute. It was big enough to accommodate a bunch of people. By the time, I visited The Institute in 1975 there were about five other people living there with Tom and there were numerous neighbors coming and going. Tom had started a large vegetable garden and all of the other residents helped maintain it. I never heard anyone mention the term “rent.” Instead people just spontaneously dropped money (or food stamps) in a basket in the kitchen and then took it out as needed to make grocery runs or to pay for other household expenses. The Institute had become a magical place. I think I was the only straight person staying at The Institute at that time but Tom made me feel welcome for the few months that I was there.

When I no longer had enough money to drop in the basket I left The Institute. I moved to southern Indiana where I became the temporary caretaker of two goats and a summer campground for kids. I was there throughout most of the winter. Eventually, my relationship with the goats and the owner of the property went sour so I moved back to Louisville and launched a semi-normal life and career. I completely lost contact with Tom - until this week.

Another wonderful old friend sent Tom’s email address to me. We have now swapped emails and shared short summaries of our past 44 years. Tom has lived in New York City for most of his adult life. He wrote two poignant comments that were very meaningful to me. He wrote, "We shared a time in our lives when everything was possible." I immediately re-experienced the feeling associated with that time. The memory and feeling brought a tear to my eyes. 

Tom also wrote, "You helped my transition to my true self." I wrote back, "I don't know what I did but whatever it was I am proud of it."
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*I recently spoke to Tom on the phone. We talked for about an hour reminiscing. He told he that he was not gay but instead he was sexually fluid. It's a real thing. I looked it up. If you are interested you can too. After all, Everything was Possible.