In the ancient days, maybe during the time of Mesopotamia,
spring was a time of anticipation with the greening, growing earth responding
to all the warmth and water. Winter, the new-year if you will, was more often a
time of reflection. How did we do as a species, as a people, as a family, or
more often, as the one?
On reflection (bad me), possibly that’s where the idea of
resolutions came into play. This particular part of our life might possibly be
a bit nicer if we did this or behaved that way, or eliminated the part
entirely. For myself? I talk too much. Imagine that. Patty, too often has to
say, “Will you just listen for once!!!”
I also have a strong tendency toward arrogance. Read the
directions? Yes, I do. Follow the direction? Why? I know what I’m doing. Oops.
My mother was one of those people who rarely saw imperfections in her children.
Praise heaped on praise leads one to eventually believe what’s being said. A
fair IQ coupled with easily attained good grades if I wanted them added to my
current level of believed supremacy. See what I mean?
I have a good sense of humor and coupled with a smart ass
attitude has managed to get me in deep doo-doo more than once. There was that
night at the Bucket of Blood Saloon … no, no. There were those nights at the
Stage Stop Saloon … no, no. Well, there was the time I made Dickie Smothers
laugh. And Dick Martin used one of my jokes in his show once.
I’m not sure I really want to change any of that. Patty
calls me ‘interesting’. That’s cool. If Mom were still alive she’d have
autographed copies of all my books and drive the neighbors nuts talking about
her famous son, the author. That’s cool. My brother, who lives in Colorado
still has me on his Christmas card list. That’s cool.
Yup, no big bad resolutions for this year. My moment of
reflection is taken care of, now, dammit, let there be the anticipation of
spring, warm sun, good water, and trout in the streams.
Until next time, read good books and stay regular
Johnny Gunn
Will you join me on facebook from time to time?
Or Tweet with me, darlin’?
No comments:
Post a Comment