People

A Friend On His Way Home

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

At the end of March I moved to a newly purchased home and have taken my time since unpacking.  The necessary things were out of boxes and organized soon after arriving.  The kitchen, bedroom, den and my office are organized and fully functional.  For the rest I have been slow to unpack as I am intentionally taking my time sorting and lightening my load. 

Often after work on weekday evenings I unpack a single box.  Last night the box I cut the tape on was one filled with assorted and unrelated stuff that collected in a cabinet over time.  There were record covers I need to find the mates for.  Several small containers of photography accessories were the only organized items in the big box.  There were photos from a trip to England and Poland, of my father and some old publicity photos of me.  In a manila folder were several unrelated things:  certificates from training I completed, a few random photos, a small newspaper article about an old achievement of mine and three folded white pieces of paper.  When I unfolded them I saw at the bottom of each “Dayton, WS, August ‘90” that had been typed on a typewriter. 

I smiled as I thought of a man who had not entered my mind in a long while.  He was an odd duck, but a kind and interesting man about 20+ years older than me.  We were friends once upon a time.  WS was for Wayne Shockley or Wayne Shayne.  Both names were for the same person with the former being his legal name and the latter his stage name. Wayne had been a successful radio announcer “in his day” but was nearing the bottom of the curve of a downhill slide when I knew him.   He had “lived the life” when younger that many in the entertainment industry do and enjoyed himself fully to the extent of his ability.  Having never saved, nor realized that down the road age would catch up with him he lived a hundred yards from destitution by the time I met him.  He had a family once and talked about two children  in California he felt guilty about not having been a better father for.  I know they had reconciled and he was very happy about that. 

Wayne and I worked together in Dayton, Ohio.  Saying I was his boss feels odd because he never needed a supervisor.  He was a competent and dependable employee, but due to age was looked upon by most as “over the hill”.  Yes, his style was old-fashioned, but for what he lacked in current “hipness” he made up for with dedication and the quality of his humanness.  Everyone liked him, but due to his uniqueness most did not take the time to get to know him labeling him “weird” instead of becoming more acquainted with him.  

My friend suffered from very bad juvenile diabetes and more than once I got a call from a police officer saying they had picked him up disoriented and lost.  Thinking he was driving and acting goofy due to alcohol, they’d test him and find no booze on his breath.  Then they’d start to believe his story about his out of whack blood sugar being the cause and would call me for confirmation as he suggested (my number was on a note he carried in his wallet that explained his condition to anyone who took the time to look).

After a few years of us working together, an old buddy of Wayne’s became the manager of an oldies station several hundred miles.  The friend invited him to come join as a drive time DJ.    Wayne saw it as a last chance to be on top again and play those oldies he loved so much.  I know he disliked leaving the security of the job he had working overnights, but felt he had to try to make it just one more time. 

After he moved on, he called here and there.  Over time the calls came less and less.  Then after a year they did not come at all except the last time I talked to him.  We made small talk for a while and then in a quite tone he began to explain.  The radio station had failed and the job was long gone.  He’d been staying with a friend in Atlanta.  Wayne said he was very sick and just wanted to make it home to California to see his kids, but had no money.  He apologized for asking, but said he was asking a few friends to help him with gas money so he could head home to the west coast.  I feel sad even today just recalling that conversation of over 20 years ago.  I sent him $200 and the next I heard about Wayne was from St. Louisa few weeks later. 

The call came in from a mutual friend who Wayne had stopped to stay with for a couple of nights on his way to California.  What I heard from the other end of the phone was St. Louis was as far as Wayne had made it.  He had died the evening before.  The diabetes finally got him. 

In my heart and mind Wayne was more unique and memorable than any character you might see in a movie.  He was real, distinctively and completely himself.  As a tear rolls down my face there is certainty my life is richer for having had Wayne play this stage I call my life.  I am grateful to be one of the few he trusted to let read his poetry and thankful the copies of three of them he gave me.  Thank you, Wayne,  for being my friend and for the spot of color you painted into my life. 

Conversation in the Afternoon by Wayne Shockley aka Wayne Shayne
On a snowy windy afternoon
I fell into conversation
A pretty librarian at the check out desk
Who regaled me with the inner workings of minds
Such as Dickens and Steinbeck

We spent our late afternoon before dusk
Two travelers locked away from our homes
Held in the wheels of the storm
Lying on smooth white sheets
Eating melted ice cream from the pint carton
Drinking warm beer
Warm and cuddly down at the old downtown Windsor

When our play concluded
She sat up with her back against the oaken headboard
Fished into her plastic purse for a bent Camel light
Lit up and smiled
She began to talk about the new set of clothes
She had put away on layaway
Just yesterday. 

Life without a friend is death without a witness.  Eugene Benge

Old Friends Are the Best Friends

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

There is a good friend of mine who lives about 700 miles away that I trade an email with just about every single day of the year.  The exchange is usually just a few lines.  Yet, it amazing how well we are able to keep up with each other with those short little but consistent emails.  

Lately we have been comparing notes on the weather in each of our locales and this morning I wrote him about the record 107 degree temp here yesterday.   While here in Oklahoma we are having record highs yesterday in Colorado just 700 miles away it was raining.  I only know that because he wrote and told me.    

My friend is semi-retired and has more small hand power tools than anyone else I have ever known.  A hobby of wood working takes a good deal of his time.  He seems to always be coming up with a new self assigned project and making something out of wood for a friend or family member.  From chests to clocks to display boxes he makes them all and more.  I frequently get photos of his latest effort whether it is a toy chest for his granddaughter or a pen storage box for his wife’s office. 

Through emails I am able to keep up with happenings in my friend’s family.  I knew about his oldest son buying a house recently and got to see photos of the house.  There are regular updates on the interesting things his very intelligent and observant 1st grade  granddaughter comes up with. 

When my buddy takes a trip, I know almost always where to, for how long and the general purpose of the travel.  He just wrote this morning about heading to a school reunion this upcoming weekend. 

One of my friend’s two sons is quite an artist.  While it is not something the son does for a living, he does sell a piece here and there.  I look forward to the holidays each year to see what this son has added to his outdoor Christmas display.  Each Christmas season my friend’s son makes additional characters for his home lawn exhibition that includes some of the most original depictions of elves I have ever seen.  I know because I get new images via email each year. 

He and I also have fun with each other with some good old fashioned kidding and goofing around from time to time.  Usually some sort of play on words or just having fun with something one of us has written is good fun and entertainment.  

I always know when it is a patriotic holiday my friend will out ridding his red, white and blue motorcycle wearing his flag jacket.  I look forward to hearing specifics about who waved, honked, saluted and appreciated his efforts.   Whether it’s Memorial Day, July 4th, Veteran’s Day, President’s Day, Flag Day or some lesser patriotic remembrance, somewhere on the streets of Colorado my friend can be found. 

He and I have known each other close to 30 years and we began as two people who worked for the same company.  Over the years we each went our separate professional ways, but have steadily become closer friends as time has passed.  Neither of us are people who make friendships easily or fast.  Old and un-fractured friendships are rare, yet that is what we share.  We have never had a cross word exchanged. 

I have written all that to say, today at the top of my gratitude list is my friend and the daily emails we share.  He is a unique, quirky and intelligent man with a twisted sort of humor that I appreciate a lot.  His novel view of things is a good match for mine.  We are completely different is so many ways, but yet at our core we are basically the same.  Today it is for my good friend that I feel much gratitude for.  I am honored to call him my friend.  

Friendship doubles our joy and divides our grief.  Swedish Proverb

~ 235th Anniversary of Our Declaration of Independence ~ 4th of July, 2011

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

IN CONGRESS, July 4, 1776.
The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen United States of America,

When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them…

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it…

We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled… solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown…

Ever wondered what happened to the fifty-six men who signed the Declaration of Independence? Here are examples of the price some of them paid:

Five signers were captured by the British as traitors, and tortured before they died. Twelve had their homes ransacked and burned. Two lost their sons in the revolutionary army, another had two sons captured. Nine of the fifty-six fought and died from wounds or hardships resulting from the Revolutionary War.

Carter Braxton of Virginia, a wealthy planter and trader, saw his ships swept from the seas by the British navy. He sold his home and properties to pay his debts, and died in rags.

Thomas McKeam was so hounded by the British that he was forced to move his family almost constantly. He served in the Congress without pay, and his family was kept in hiding. His possessions were taken from him, and poverty was his reward.

Perhaps one of the more inspiring examples of “undaunted resolution” was at the Battle of Yorktown. Thomas Nelson, Jr. returning from Philadelphia noted that British General Cornwallis had taken over his home, but that the patriots were directing their artillery fire all over the town except for the vicinity of his beautiful home. Nelson asked why they were not firing in that direction and the soldiers replied, “Out of respect to you, Sir.” Nelson quietly urged General Washington to open fire, and stepped forward to the nearest cannon, aimed at his own house and fired. The other guns joined in, and the Nelson home was destroyed. Nelson died bankrupt.

Francis Lewis’s Long Island home was looted and gutted, his home and properties destroyed. His wife was thrown into a damp dark prison cell without a bed. Health ruined, Mrs. Lewis soon died from the effects of the confinement. The Lewis’s son would later die in British captivity, also.

“Honest John” Hart was driven from his wife’s bedside as she lay dying, when British and Hessian troops invaded New Jersey just months after he signed the Declaration. Their thirteen children fled for their lives. His fields and his grist mill were laid to waste. All winter, and for more than a year, Hart lived in forests and caves, finally returning home to find his wife dead, his children vanished and his farm destroyed. A few weeks later, John Hart was dead from exhaustion and a broken heart.  Norris and Livingston suffered similar fates.

New Jersey’s Richard Stockton, after rescuing his wife and children from advancing British troops, was betrayed by a loyalist, imprisoned, beaten and nearly starved. He returned an invalid to find his home gutted, and his library and papers burned. He, too, never recovered, dying a broken man.

William Ellery of Rhode Island, who marveled that he had seen only “undaunted resolution” in the faces of his co-signers, also had his home burned.

Only days after Lewis Morris of New York signed the Declaration, British troops ravaged his 2,000-acre estate, butchered his cattle and drove his family off the land. Three of Morris’ sons fought the British.

When the British seized the the York house of the wealthy Philip Livingston, he sold off everything else, and gave the money to the Revolution. He died in 1778.

Arthur Middleton, Edward Rutledge and Thomas Heyward Jr. went home to South Carolina. In the British invasion of the South, Heyward was wounded and all three were captured. As he rotted on a prison ship inSt. Augustine, Heyward’s plantation was raided, buildings burned, and his wife, who witnessed it all, died. Other Southern signers suffered the same general fate.

These were men who believed in a cause far beyond themselves.  These were not wild-eyed, rabble-rousing ruffians. They were soft-spoken men of means and education. They had security, but they valued liberty more. Standing straight and unwavering, they pledged: “For the support of this Declaration, with firm reliance on the protection of the Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other, our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.”  

My entire way of life and the freedom to live it I owe to those 56 men. I am deeply grateful for their courage, fortitude and sacrifice.

Read the full Declaration of Independence at:  http://www.ushistory.org/declaration/document/

Government is not reason, it is not eloquence.  It is force; like fire, a troublesome servant and a fearful master. Never for a moment should it be left to irresponsible action.  George Washington

July 4th Weekend: Whatever Can Go Wrong…

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

A good while back I sent a card to the dentist who took care of me to wish him a happy birthday and to say thank you.  Inside was written I’d be “gumming my food instead of chewing it” if not for him.  That statement was not an exaggeration! 

Good genetics blessed me with straight and well-formed teeth to the point I was asked more than once when young if my teeth were actually real.  That’s the good news.  The reverse info about my teeth is thin enamel at the gum line which means as I have aged the vast majority of the teeth ended up with unavoidable cavities that made crowning necessary.  Many things were prescribed to slow down the deterioration such as a solution I could use after brushing that highlighted any place I could brush more thoroughly.  Then there were fluoride rinses, added brushing and extra cleaning tools.  All decelerated the process of decline, but could not prevent it. 

Within the last few years I have lost two teeth to fracture causing them to be unsalvagable.  Now to replace them I face my first two implants to go along with the 15 or so crowns I already have.  Oh, boy.  New dental adventures!  The only teeth I have that are not “capped” are some front ones.  So the majority of chewing is done these days with man-made teeth and I am grateful for them. 

 My experience has also taught me all dentists are not of equal ability.  In my 20’s I was the patient of a dentist that I always enjoyed being around.  He had a great chair-side manner, interesting personality and told great jokes.  However, I discovered in time his work was not very good.  A number of dentists later remarked about his work being substandard.  It was then it hit me that for every dentist who finished school at the top of his class, there was one at the bottom.  

I have been blessed to have been in the care of several great dentists and have become skilled at finding them.  Asking around is a good start, but asking the correct questions of a dentist can be even more telling.  Having to find a new dentist a number of times necessitated by relocation, I have no issue “interviewing” one before I allow him or her to work in my mouth.  To them initially I am mostly just another patient.  But for me, I will live everyday with the work they do in my mouth!  

Beginning this past Friday a dull ache started above an upper molar which has gotten steadily worse since.  Now two days later eating is a painful chore and I chose this morning to make an emergency call to my dentist’s office.  The timing is less than great since it is the 4th of July weekend and I know Dr. C. is in Florida with his family for a week.  However, I was able to contact another dentist who works in the same practice that is handling emergencies while my guy is away.  She called in a prescription for antibiotics for the infection causing the discomfort and some pain pills to numb the aching.  Whew… I am thankful for the help!

While the distress from the tooth is not yet the throbbing and debilitating kind, I know better than to not let it get to that point before contacting a dentist.  I remember clearly being newly relocated in Philadelphia and not having a local dentist yet when a tooth went bad.  Clear in my memory is sitting on the kitchen floor close to midnight on a Sunday evening trying to drink enough wine to pass out.  The pain was that bad!  I made it through to Monday morning, found a dentist who referred me to an oral surgeon who saved the tooth with a root canal.  

From time to time I hear people complain about root canals but not me.  Several times having one done has been the remedy I sorely needed.  It takes a good bit of time for one to be done, but the procedure has never been that uncomfortable really.  Maybe it is because of all the dental work I’ve experienced which makes it seem like no big deal.  But it is more than that.  I have come to be really thankful for what can be done with modern dentistry by a capable dentist.  All I have to do is be patient, handle a little discomfort here and there and sit still while the work is being done.  

My gratitude today is sizeable for all the good dentists who have done work for me.  Yes, the work is expensive but has been worth every penny when the work was well done.  When I smile I am so glad there are teeth to be seen.  Sure many of them are man-made, but I have always had them replaced with teeth shaped like and of the same color as my original teeth.  Having them not look fake has always been important to me. 

So Dr. C., Dr. W. and Dr. P. thank you!  For the last 25 years you three gentlemen have kept my smile intact and my teeth working.  I know you were paid for your effort, but the quality of your work is valued beyond what you received for it.  And further, you all are likeable people who really care about your work and your patients.  I am blessed to have been in your care.  Thank you!

You don’t have to brush your teeth – just the ones you want to keep.  Author Unknown

Pretty Ugly and Awfully Good

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

Marek looked at me with a very confused look when I answered his question “How did you sleep last night?” My reply was “awfully good”.  Thinking he did not understand me I said it again to which he replied “was sleep awful or good?” 

In another conversation during the same trip I was asked by someone what I liked most and least about Warsaw, the city I was visiting.  Thinking for a moment before speaking I answered “we spent over half a day in Old Town.  That is a very cool place.  I just love the look and feel of it.”  Pausing for a moment to come up with something that would not offend my hosts I continued “As for something I like least I think it would the big dark, plain and grimy apartment buildings on the edge of town.  Those are pretty ugly.”   A puzzled look came of both faces of the two people I was standing and talking to.  A man listening asked me in his heavy accent “which, pretty or ugly?” 

It is the nature of many people in Eastern Europe to enjoy alcohol more than many and each business day is often capped with a time of evening drinking.  The favored drink is beer and I can always remember the brand I preferred.  It is called “Okocim Porter”.  For me the brand is easy to remember because the first two letters are the same as the abbreviation for my home state.  Plus the English sounding second part of the name, “Porter”, always struck me as odd to be part of the name of a Polish beer.   

During this particular business trip I think I created my biggest amusement for my Polish friends at a cocktail party one evening.  The previous night I had experienced a really good time at a similar gathering for drinking; a little too good actually.  Unaccustomed to beer with 8-9% alcohol content I ended up getting looped.  Not completely drunk, but not completely sober either.

Knowing I had left early the previous night due to my “happy” condition a guest at the cocktail party asked how I got back to the hotel.   My reply was “Janusz carried me”.  I was standing with a group of four or five people and a puzzled look came over all their faces.  One finally said something like “your hotel is a long way.  Janusz really picked you up and carried you there last night?”  As he spoke he made a motion like one might make if picking up something heavy and I instantly realized I had misspoke.  I said “took me in his car” to correct the impression that a man had literally carried me back to my hotel.  Everyone burst out in laughter.  One said “you speak funny English”. 

Starting within a few years after the fall of communism I was professionally involved as a consultant with a media company in Poland for about a decade.  It was one of the high points of my life so far.  I hosted Polish visitors here in the US at least eight or ten times and I visited Poland several times as well.  I got to know quite well the two men who were the senior managers for the company I was consulting.  One of them became a good friend and I am still in contact with Janusz today.  

When I first met the first two Poles, they were visiting here in the states.  The men were new to my type business they were undertaking at home and our management team had taken on the job of teaching them as much as we could.  This initial visit was for two weeks.  We took turns teaching our guests in the daytime and entertaining them during evenings and weekends. 

On a Monday morning, imagine my surprise when I asked the Poles where one of our management group had taken them on Sunday and the reply was “Gerry took us to hookers”.  It was a very uncomfortable few seconds as I thought surely they had not visited prostitutes, but for a blink or two I honestly thought that might be a possibility.  Being new to Polish customs and habits I just did not know.  My reply was a very puzzled “really?” with about ten question marks accenting my one word statement.  Then the other visitor who spoke better English apparently saw my distress and chimed in with “Hooters, Gerry took us to Hooters”.  What a relief!  We all had a great laugh and it is a favorite funny story to tell even today.  

Deep within there is much gratitude for the people in Poland I got to know.  I gained many insights and learned at least as much as I was able to teach.  I remember clearly being at dinner in Warsaw one evening eating a lot and drinking a bit more when my friend Janusz remarked that he could not imagine us being enemies, but our fathers had been.  Then we toasted our friendship. 

One of the most lasting remnants of my Polish education was to pay attention to what I say and how I put words together.  I believe today I have eliminated things like “pretty ugly” and “awfully good” from my vocabulary.  I do have some fun here and there with my awareness.  When asking someone how they are, the frequent reply is “pretty good”.  My response is usually something like “So you’re pretty and you’re good.  That’s awesome that you have such a good self imagine and you are doing well.”   Most don’t get it, but each time I am presented that opportunity I am grateful to be reminded of my friends in Poland and the gratitude I have for my times with them. 

English is a funny language; that explains why we park our car on the driveway and drive our car on the parkway.  Author Unknown

Gypsies, Jews, Rednecks and Black Sheep

/ James Browning / 3 Comments

 

Once upon a time I worked for a manager named Marvin.  At the time he and I had known each other for close to a decade and worked together previously as peers in a different city where we first met.  As friends we got along well and our work relationship was a good one.  

Marvin hired me in my early 30’s as a middle manager in Denver and things were going well.  I was able to make a difference in the business, enjoyed working for him and was shown appreciation regularly.  One day I was very excited about the great deal I had gotten for the company and hurried into Marvin’s office to tell him about it.  What had been accomplished was described in animated detail and I ended the story with “I jew’ed ‘em down pretty good didn’t I?”.  I watched Marvin’s face turn to pale and then red and to this day I remember vividly his reaction.  He said “don’t ever say anything like that in front of me again.  If I did not know you so well I would have come over my desk at you.  I know you meant no offense, but that phrase is extremely offensive to me”.  I imagine you sorted out that my friend Marvin was Jewish. 

For a good while I was embarrassed by what I had said and my apologies to Marvin were numerous.  Being the good man that he was, he told me to forget it and meant it.  It took me a good bit longer to forgive myself.  In my introspection then I realized I had grown up hearing that phrase in an area where there were no Jews, Catholics, Lutherans, Mormons or any faith outside of traditional Christian ones.  All I knew was those folks were people like me, but went to a different church just like Methodists and Baptists did.  

At nineteen I had a buddy who was a Jew and attended synagogue with him. I did not understand the service exactly, but respected its traditions and those attending.  The same was true in my when I attended church with a girl I dated who was Catholic.    

After the incident in Denver I began to take inventory of other things I said from time to time that I really did not know the meaning of.  I discovered there were a few other pejoratives in my vocabulary.  First there was use of the terms “gyped” (verb) and “gyp” (noun) that referred to being ripped off or the person who ripped one off.  With a little work at a library I discovered that the use of these expressions was a racial slur against Gypsies. Lacking a population of Gypsies in the Deep South, this had honestly never occurred to me.  As far as I knew there had never been an occasion where I had offended anyone with that term except possibly those who knew generally it was derogatory slang.  Another term x’ed off my repertory of expression. 

Later I heard my self make reference to a “black sheep” in conversation one day.  I offended no one (that I know of) but mentally caught the phrase and a little homework later educated me on its meaning.  I found “black sheep” is a derogatory colloquialism meaning an outsider or one who is different in a way which others disapprove of or find odd. The term originated from the fact that the occasional black sheep will be born into a herd of white sheep. Black sheep were considered undesirable because their wool cannot be dyed, and there weren’t enough to make black wool. I feared before doing research that is was a slam against people with dark skin and was relieved that in general it wasn’t.  However, I felt it could be construed that way by some and another expression was removed form my usable list.  

My personal standard is to never speak words offensive to people of any particular race, creed, background or color.  Now I am working on deleting “redneck” from my vocabulary.  Considering I think of myself as being descended proudly from a long line ofAlabamarednecks progress on complete elimination of that one is taking a lot longer than the others.  “Redneck” is a historically derogatory slang term used in reference to poor white farmers in theSouthern United States.  In more recent times the term has had its meaning expanded to mean bigoted, loutish, and opposed to modern ways.  While I am the former (descendant of poor white farmers), I mean no disrespect by using the derogatory meanings.  So that one has to go too! 

I am still trying to sort out why we often use “right” to mean “correct”.  Is that is some sort of a put down to people who are left- handed?  Any input on that one would would be appreciated.

This line of growth all began with my boss back in my young executive days that I innocently, or rather ignorantly, indirectly slammed because of his faith.  My restitution has been to seek to eliminate all such words and phrases from how I speak.   As we all are a combination of bits and pieces borrowed from others stirred in with our unique self, I will always be grateful to Marvin R. for being a good boss, an understanding friend and for bringing to life an awareness that is with me still today. 

It’s better to keep your mouth shut and give the impression that you’re stupid than to open it and remove all doubt. Rami Belson

Mark Twains’ Version of Adam and Eve

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

“…It is my prayer, it is my longing that we may pass from this life together; a longing which shall never perish from the earth, but shall have place in the heart of every wife that loves, until the end of time; and it shall be called by my name.  But if one of us must go first, it is my prayer that it shall be I; for he is strong, I am weak; I am not so necessary to him as he is to me — life without him would not be life…” 

Mark Twain, the writer referred here after to by his real name Sam Clemens, was far deeper in thought and feeling than most realize today.  It is the way of history to over time smooth the corners and keep as the known truth a narrow vein of who a person actually was. The first paragraph above was written by Mr. Clemens in 1905 at the end of a fictional short story called “Eve’s Diary”. 

The story was part of a series called “The Diaries of Adam and Eve” he began releasing portions of in 1904, the year his wife died.  It is widely accepted that these stories were largely part of Clemens’ way of dealing with the loss of his beloved wife Olivia, who he called “Livy” for short.  He called her his “rudder” and seemed to lose a good deal of his energy for living after her passing.  Clemens’ health grew steadily worse after his wife’s death and Sam passed away less than six years after she did. 

Before I was ten years old I had taken several wonderful adventures with Mr. Clemens and his friends Tom Sawyer, Edward Tudor, Huckleberry Finn, Jim, Becky Thatcher, Injun’ Joe, and Captain Bixby.  I did not begin to discover Clemens’ Adam and Eve stories until three years ago I purchased a used Harper book published in 1935 called “The Family Mark Twain”.  Within it I read for the first time Clemens’s story called “Eve’s Diary”.  From there I sought out not only the full set of stories of “The Diaries of Adam and Eve”, but also discovered and became enamored with the love story between Olivia and Sam Clemens. No one to whom I have ever mentioned Twain’s Adam and Eve stories ever heard of them, nor has any one ever been aware of Sam’s love letters to Livy.  In a small and humble way I hope to lend change to that.

From a letter Clemens wrote to his wife to be on January 6, 1869: “…I cannot speak of you in tame commonplace language – I must reserve that for the more commonplace people.  Don’t scold me, Livy – let me pay my due homage to your worth; let me honor you above all women; let me love you with a love that knows no doubt, no question – for you are my world, my life, my pride, my all of earth that is worth the having.  Develop your faults, if you have them – they have no terrors for me – nothing shall tear you out of my heart.  Livy, if you only knew how much I love you!  But I couldn’t make you comprehend it, though I wrote a year…”

Later Sam wrote “… I have at this moment the only sweetheart I ever loved, and bless her old heart she is lying asleep upstairs in a bed that I sleep in every night.  If all of one’s married days are as happy as these I have deliberately fooled away 30 years of my life.  If it were to do over again I would marry in early infancy instead of wasting time cutting teeth and breaking crockery…”

 “…Was there ever such a darling as Livy?  I know there never was.  She fills my ideal of what a woman should be in order to be enchantingly loveable.  And so, what wonder is it that I love her so?  And what wonder is it that I am deeply grateful for permission to love her…?

The Adam part of Clemens’  “Adam and Eve” story was done tongue in cheek, yet in an endearing way:  “…This new creature with the long hair is a good deal in the way. It is always hanging around and following me about. I don’t like this; I am not used to company. I wish it would stay with the other animals…” 

In contrast in a letter to a friend, the married Clemens wrote “…We are very regular in our habits.  We get up at 6 o’clock every morning and we go to bed at 10 every evening.  We have three meals a day – breakfast at 10 o’clock, lunch at 1pm and dinner at 5.  The reason we get up at 6 in the morning is because we have heard that early rising is beneficial.  We then go back to bed and get up finally at half past 9…”  And on the same day Olivia Clemens wrote a friend saying “…We are as happy as two mortals can be…”

Sam Clemens ends “The Diaries of Adam and Eve” with one line that sums up the depth of his emotion for his wife and partner of almost 34 years:  “Wheresoever she was, THERE was Eden.”

So the next time you are thinking of great love stories, remember Samuel and Olivia Clemens.  I have long been thankful for the stories I read in childhood and the wonderful adventures Mark Twain took me on.  Now there is much added gratitude within for the true and real love story of Sam and Livy.  How beautifully inspiring and poetic it is. 

I find it interesting and appropriate that Samuel Langhorne Clemens was born during a visit by Halley’s Comet and later he predicted he would “go out with it” as well. He died the day following the comet’s subsequent return slightly over a hundred and one years ago. 

After all these years, I see that I was mistaken about Eve in the beginning; it is better to live outside the Garden with her than inside it without her.  Mark Twain

If you’d like to read more of Mark Twain’s “Eve’s Diary” click here: http://www.gutenberg.org/catalog/world/readfile?fk_files=1807607

Albert Einstein: The Man Behind the Scientist

/ James Browning / 4 Comments

As a youngster and through my teen years one of my heroes was Albert Einstein.  In those days I thought I was going to grow up to be a man of science.  Of course I picked the most famous scientist of the 20th century to admire!  In retrospect I realize then I looked up to the fame and notoriety and not the man.  Learning about Einstein as a person came about later in my adult life. 

Even with all the wonders of his brain, Albert Einstein was a far from perfect man.  His first child, a daughter, was born out of wedlock.  Later there were two more children with the woman who became his wife that he later left.  Without ever divorcing his first wife Albert later remarried his first maternal cousin who was also his second paternal cousin.   

Life has a way of revealing more and more of my faults and imperfections the longer I live.  It seems a portion of the wisdom possible is wrapped up in making peace with the mistakes I have made and me finding acceptance of my less than balanced and sometimes darker nature.  The longer I live the more errors I accumulate to potentially learn from.  The deeper into life my years take me the farther the depths of mining into my true nature can go.  The phrase “aging is mandatory, wisdom is optional” means some learn much from this passing of their time, others not nearly so much.  Einstein learned a lot. 

From the book “Albert Einstein:  The Human Side” here are some excerpts from letters to friends and family that show his growth as a person and his insight into life:

With fame I become more and more stupid, which, of course, is a very common phenomenon.  There is far too great a disproportion between what one is and what others think one is, or at least what they say they think one is.   

A happy man is too contented with the present to think much about the future. 

The foundation of all human values is morality. 

O youth:  Do you know that yours is not the first generation to yearn for a life full of beauty and freedom?

Your fervent wishes can only find fulfillment if you succeed in attaining love and understanding of men, and animals and plants and stars so that every joy becomes your joy and every pain your pain.   

What I see in Nature is a magnificent structure that we can comprehend only very imperfectly, and that must fill a thinking person with a feeling of “humility”.  This is a genuinely religious feeling. 

Wisdom is not a product of schooling but of the lifelong attempt to acquire it.

Nothing truly valuable arises from ambition or from a mere sense of duty; it stems rather from love and devotion. 

Learn to be happy through the happiness and joy of your fellows.  If you can find room within yourselves for this natural feeing, your every burden in life will be light, or at least bearable, and you will find your way in patience and without fear, and will spread joy everywhere. 

Never regard your study as a duty, but as the enviable opportunity to learn.   

Humanity has every reason to place the proclaimers of high moral standards and values above the discoverers of objective truth.  What humanity owes to personalities like Buddha, Moses and Jesus ranks for me higher than all the achievements of the enquiring and constructive mind. 

The pursuit of truth and beauty is a sphere of activity in which we are permitted to remain children all our lives. 

More and more I come to value charity and love of one’s fellow being above everything else. 

And in his old age Dr. Einstein was also something of a poet:
Everyone’s greeting me today
In the nicest possible way.
Heartfelt words from far and near
Have come from people I hold dear;
And presents, too, to satisfy
Even a gourmet such as I.
They’re doing all one possible can
To satisfy an aged man.
In tone like sweetest melody
They beautify the day for me.
Now the long day nears its end
And greetings to you all I send.

Today I know that one of my heroes, Albert Einstein had many flaws and made numerous mistakes.  He was as human as the rest of us.  With the passing of his years, he seemed to become more and more a philosopher.  It is his deep and personal thoughts that entrench most him within as one of my heroes.  I am grateful that a scientist with so much fame left us with the thoughts of the man he became.  E(instein) was equal to a lot more than M C squared!  

It’s better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you’re not.  Marilyn Monroe

The Wisdom of Innocent Youth

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

Wisdom is not always something that comes with learning and experience.  If one pays attention, wise insight can be found in the clarity of innocent naiveté within the young.  Such unbridled inate wisdom often presents keen insight.  Just this week a clear example came through into my life. 

The owner of a landscape company who did work for me stopped by for me to pay him one evening this week.  He brought with him his son Hayden.  When the father introduced his son, the boy was polite and shook hands without being prompted saying “it is nice to meet you”.   I asked him how old he was and he proudly responded “I’m nine”.  As Hayden spoke he made direct eye contact and it was easy to see from the sparkle in his eyes there was a lot going on in that brain of his. 

As I stood in the kitchen writing a check and talking to his Dad, the young boy asked if it was ok if he looked around.   I say yes and immediately afterwards “But don’t touch anything” came from his Father’s mouth.  Within 30 seconds we heard statements like “Dad, he has real swords.  Are they real?  Where did you get them?”  My reply included “most are replicas, two are antiques and I bought them at auctions and on-line”.  In a voice that continued to be excited, he insisted that his Dad come look at the marvels the boy had found in my home. 

Not much time passed and Hayden found his way to my library.  Having finished writing the check his father and I joined him there.  I am an avid reader in general and specifically a collector of old books.  My total collection on the library shelves spans around 120 linear feet.  So, there are a lot of books.  His first question was if I had read them all.  My reply was “I’ve read about 2/3’s of them.  Some are reference books that I didn’t buy to read all the way through.  The rest I hope to get around to reading sometime.” 

The next question from the nine year old was “do you have any books on the Roman Empire?”  His inquiry caught me off guard, as ancient history is not a subject I would have thought a youngster would be interested in.  Hayden’s father chimed in to say his son had done a school project on the Romans near the end of the school year.  He had helped his son who had become quite interested in the subject.  We then looked for my antique two-volume set of history books on theRoman Empire.  

The old books in my collection seemed to be of the greatest interest to this big eyed youngster.  He wanted to know how old they were and I responded that most of the old books were all around 100-150 years old, but a couple of the small ones were closer to 200 years old.  While none of the antique books are highly valuable, they are some of my prized possessions.  As he touched one of the older ones I let him hold, his manner was even more delicate than the care I usually handle the books with. I was impressed with this obviously astute, smart and well-raised boy. 

I asked Hayden what was the oldest thing he had ever touched, but he could not come up with a specific answer.  Then I asked him if he’d like to touch something really old.  He grinned and with a glint in his eyes he exclaimed “sure!”  About a decade ago I made two trips to Peru to check out Machu Picchu, the Incas and previous South American civilizations.  My traveling companion was my son who in wide-eyed teenaged mode marveled at what we experienced.  During the second trip I made arrangements to legally bring back a few pieces of pre-Columbia pottery that I now was going to share with my young visitor. 

While I never let it completely out of my hands due to its fragility, I pulled out the oldest piece I have and let Hayden run his hands all over it.  He asked “what is it”.  I told him it’s a bowl made by the Nazca and asked if he was aware of the figures of monkeys, scorpions and other animals made of arrangements of rocks visible from the air in the southern deserts of Peru.  He just looked at me, but his father knew what I was talking about and said “we’ll look it up when we get home”.  When I told my attentive visitor the bowl was around a thousand and four hundred years old he seemed impressed beyond his ability to comprehend. 

It became apparent that Dad was ready to go home as he expressed his appreciation for me taking time with his son.  I replied they would have to come back sometime when I have everything unpacked (I moved about 2 months ago and am far from having everything organized and out of boxes).  Hayden smiled like I had given him a prize when he thanked me as his Father suggested to him.  We shook hands and I told the young man it was a pleasure to meet him.  His Dad beamed when I remarked how smart and well behaved his son was. 

In the minutes after boy and Father departed, I wondered to myself briefly what the young man will grow up to do.  Will he end up in a profession concerning his interest in old things or will he have a usual job but keep his keen desire to learn about the past.  Which ever, I have faith he will do well in life if he keeps his love of learning.  

Knowledge can be a blinder.  Experience can confuse an issue.  Known facts can block the truth.  Familiarity can breed contempt.  I admire Hayden, my young visitor this week.  His wisdom based purely in awe and wonder was a vivid reminder to keep my eyes wide open and my spirit untied to experience new things.   Thanks for good lesson Hayden!

A babe in the house is a well-spring of pleasure, a messenger of peace and love, a resting place for innocence on earth, a link between angels and men.   Martin Farquhar Tupper

Paul McCartney & Carly Simon

/ James Browning / 4 Comments

Browsing the Internet I came across a list of June celebrity birthdays showing Paul McCartney and Carly Simon both celebrate the day of their birth later this month.  On the 18th Paul will turn 69 years of age.  Then a week later on June 25th Carly will turn 66.

Both performers have been favorites of mine since I first became aware of them.  Memory is clear of listening to a cheap small plug-in red plastic radio and hearing the Beatle invasion unfold.  At the time the “in thing” for many was to pick a favorite Beatle.  The girls just loved Paul and being a typical contrarian American male, I said I liked Ringo best.  Picking a favorite at all was opposite to a lot of the boys in the 60’s who pretended to hate the Beatles simply because the girls liked them. I just could not admit to “the guys” at the time that my favorite Beatle was really Paul. 

The Beatles never came close enough to where I lived for me to see them.  I did see Paul and Linda McCartney with Wings in Cincinnati at the old Riverfront Coliseum in the late 70’s.  They had a great band, a string and horn section and backup singers which made for a wonderful concert. About 10 years ago I saw Pual in concert and again about a year ago from the 4th row (thanks P.K.!).  In his 60’s Paul is still a great performer and always seems to be having a great time on stage.  Paul once said “I never look forward, because I have not idea about how any of it happened to getting here.  I’ve no idea how the next five years are going to be.”

Eight years or so after my discovery of McCartney I came into my first contact with Carly Simon’s music in 1971.  That first song ‘The Way I’ve Always Heard It Should Be” was so different that American media did not know what to do with it.  The followup was an album with the title song “Anticipation” which she has said was about her state of mind while waiting for Cat Stevens to arrive for a date.  However, it was Carly’s 3rd album when I became a fan.  It was then the “You’re So Vain” mystery was unleashed.

In a newly-recorded version of “You’re So Vain” a few years ago, Simon whispers roughly two and a half minutes into the tune.  Play it backwards and you’ll hear the first name of the man: “David.”  Carly confirmed the clue in an interview and said “I’m just going to tell you this.  The answer is on the new version of ‘You’re So Vain.’  It’s the answer to the puzzle.” The “David” she is probably referring to is movie and music mogul David Geffen.  While the song was long thought to be about a failed relationship, the new whisper seems to be a hint at Simon’s resentment of Geffen signing then-music rival Joni Mitchell for his own label Asylum Records.

I regret that I have never seen Carly Simon in concert.  She rarely tours.  But I have been consoled by the album covers of many of her LP’s!  She was the subject of quite a bit of young male wishful thinking in the day.  The one that hooked me was “Secrets” where she is proudly walking braless and looking naturally sexy as all get out.  She continued with that sort of LP cover theme consistently over the years, much to my enjoyment. 

I know Paul McCartney is engaged to a wealthy woman named Nancy Shevell from The Hamptons.  I do wish them much happiness.  I hope this union brings Paul a much better life than his second marriage to old what’s her name.  I also know that Carly Simon is single but has a steady boyfriend.  However I do know the two of them know each other since Linda McCartney was one of Carly Simon’s closest friends.  This morning the notion of the two of them married popped into my head and I found it fun to think about.  I imagined them on stage singing to each other:

Paul to Carly: I give her all my love, That’s all I do; And if you saw my love, You’d love her too.

And then Carly to Paul:  Nobody does it better, Makes me feel sad for the rest, Nobody does it half as good as you, Baby, you’re the best.

What a great fantasy concert that could be.  I know thinking of Paul and Carly as a couple is pure craziness and the product of an overactive imagination.  However, I have enjoyed their music and followed their careers and lives to the point that they have been companions on my journey through life.  I am very grateful for the many pleasurable hours listening to their work and simply want both to be happy as the three of us move through the autumn years of our lives.   

No Spring nor Summer Beauty hath such grace
As I have seen in one Autumnal face.
John Donne