Spending Time Wisely... Pondering Identity, Sometimes Our Own, Sometimes that of Others!

 

Memoirs of a Geezer

  

Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!

This Episode:             Spending Time Wisely...  Pondering Identity,

                    Sometimes Our Own, Sometimes that of Others!

Deep in the mists of geezerhood, with all of its obscurity, challenges, wonders and expectations -- ever Closer to surrendering the Illusion of Immortality -- in an effort to escape the clutter and cluster of urban smog and dust-scape, we tend to wander...  Where?  Somewhere!  Anywhere...  perhaps north, sometimes in other directions?!

At the beginning of a recent such brief odyssey, we were delighted to spy two BlueJays, each a buzz of glorious color.  As if the pair -- blurred but unable to conceal themselves entirely -- were speed painting their 

primary hues, spreading then onto the contrasting green of flora, some of it incipient, some in the full explosion of spring beauty and color!  

Heading south toward the river, SweetHeart and I were attempting to discover the oddly narrow stream of what we believed to be a tail of the river and how it joined its larger body.  In the end, thwarted by a power pole and impassible shrubbery, we were compelled to cross to the other side.  To no avail, we could not bend our vision to follow its path and the probable junction of a small thread to a larger skein! 

Having crossed, we found ourselves on a flag-bedecked vision of various contours of field and meadow, a greensward, bordered by vestigial woodlands, still spare, just budding in the nascent burst of early springtime.   

In the clubhouse on that purposely limited expanse of greenery, on which a number of combatants were attempting to strike dimpled white spheres, we donated one such found object to a surprised and grateful young woman about to participate in that very same campaign.  So many of them!   Swinging, striking, missing!  Possibly cursing!  What has happened, I wondered, to American productivity.  "Doesn't anyone work anymore?" Perhaps owing to fear and frustration, a feeling of ennui and hopelessness, the absurdities and lunacy of a political landscape populated by feckless buffoons whose aims and language many fail to fathom, perhaps never will!

Never mind all that.  We move on!  I suppose some would question our own dedication to the betterment of the nation's economic health.  We are old, yes, but we continue to work as much as we're able.  Being older, or historic, as our grandson describes us, we sometimes seize moments when industry fails to beckon, and thus we wander.  Our attempts to find joy in simple pursuits, to spend time in peaceful reflection, visions of wings, the undulating and constant movement of water, gorgeous vistas of green, purple, pink, lavender, sepia, emerald and sage!  Dazzled often by its variety, complexity, beauty and memory!  

Our wanderings do take us, or perhaps lead us inexorably, to destinations comprised of those aforementioned joys, miracles and colors, where ospreys soar and dive and capture

river fish with which to feed their young and themselves.  Until late summer when offspring begin to fledge, testing courage and wing strength, ability and that ancient, instinctively-rediscovered route to winter feeding grounds far to the South. 

We often wish that our forte, our primary bread-winning focus, were educative travel, leading followers to distant shores, exotic cities and towns, to far-away places, fascinating ideas, customs and faces!  (The word "forte" -- by the by -- contains a Silent "E" and is pronounced "Fort," and means one's strength, one's matier, one's principal gift or talent, one's "Thing," so to speak!)

Alas, at least for now, we wander in limited scope and distance, but we can and do dream of greater escapes.  Well, to be honest and accurate, we've both traveled somewhat

extensively, in our distant past -- to France, Spain, Morocco, Italy, Estonia, Turkey, Mexico, Canada, England, Finland -- and to many destinations in our own country.  Mustn't grumble, but still we long to wander further afield, and oftener!  

Meanwhile, we have our Great Lake, the Confluence of Three Rivers, our namesake river and other bodies of water in which big ships plow their way to ports and harbors and depositories.  Many offloading their goods and their essential cargoes from great, cavernous holds, or collecting commodities to ferry to other faraway places, ports and harbors, many great vessels with self-discharging structures aboard, destined for as many ports with enormous collection canyons and conveying contrivances on their shores!

As we steer our course toward oblivion, or a pleasant terminus in the realm of wander, I suppose we do at times tend to consider our own identities.  Who are we, what is our aim or purpose in life?  Do we continuously ponder our identities, what we're intended to do or be.  Our friend, Bill, cares deeply about such inponderables.  We, on the other hand, do not, or usually we do not.  We do, however, care about how to spend our time enjoyably and profitably, meaning profitable in terms of happy enterprise.  And we will, I hope, continue to do so when time and tide enable us to wander leisurely, even aimlessly, through the often bewildering mists of GeezerHood!  

(Special Note of Dedication:   For SweetHeart and all of our good chums and relatives who have been elevated to the status and the state of Wisdom!  I note that aristocrats speak of being "Elevated to the Purple," that is, achieving a position of royalty.  Those of us not of the peerage or royal lineage achieve veneration through the process of aging gracefully, and should therefore be accorded great respect and admiration...  possibly purple garments too!)  

Humbly submitted 05-13-25 -- Joel K.

  

  

 

    

       

 

The Simple Joys of GeezerHood!

 

Memoirs of a Geezer

  

Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!

This Episode:              ...The Simple Joys of GeezerHood!

It's like trying to grab hold of the spark of a sun crystal tossed from the white crest of a breaking wave...  Dazzlingly bright, elusive, slippery!  Akin to a dreamy concept of Retirement!...   Seemingly unattainable, at least at present.  Semi-retirement is, perhaps, a more plausible aim, however, and we cling to its pretense in various forms, cheerfully if, at times, a bit delusionally optimistic.

When free of workday hours, or from caregiving or the joys of being with children and grandchildren, we seize, for example, a certain delightful "Tea Time."  Heading for a favorite coffee house, we order Sport Tea, the extra large variety, with lemon and a quantity of ice that doesn't over-

whelm the tea.  Adding a bit of natural sugar, we seek the waters of Lake Michigan, or those of the confluence of rivers just west of the the huge arcing bridge that aims itself south, or north, depending on one's desired trajectory.

In summer, primarily owing to their greater occupancy (but in fall and winter as well!), we love watching big ships plowing the waters of the Great Lake, or tug boats,

sometimes the ferry.  We tend to sit and relax and sip that delicious sweet tea, equally savoring the scene in front of us, the waves and the palette of ever-shifting colors painted by the sun and the skies.

Among the most enjoyable sights are the St. Mary's Conquest or Challenger, cement-carrying ships that sometimes emerge like giant grey apparitions beside the Breakwater Light.  They inch with agonizingly deliberate slowness into the confluence, turning left as does the Menomonee River, heading for the river-front factory and its dispensing trough.  When filled to capacity, the ships back out of the narrow river, turn past the Light, pivot forward and then cruise to their (mysterious) destination ports on the Great Lakes.  

Wonderful sights.  Beautiful to witness for those of us so inclined and interested.  We're not always alone.  There are others of our ilk who enjoy the spectacle, not always of the GeezerHood variety.  The young are also sometimes in evidence at the water's edge, their eyes following the slow, grey, nearly waveless progress of the ship, whichever is in port at the time of its sighting.

On at least one occasion, hoping to prolong the nautical adventure before us, we hurry to "The Point," park our vehicle facing the Lake Front, and follow the ship's more urgent exit journey as it plows northward or eastward to deliver its viscous cargo, like exceptionally thick grey soup, too long left sitting and hardening in the pot.  Both ships have towering tugs attached like barnacles permanently to their sterns, guiding and steering the big ships into and out of our port with its narrow, meandering waterways.  

At other times, tide and time permitting, we take ourselves in a northerly, followed by a westerly direction to the banks of the river named after our state's largest city.  Prior to landing ourselves at the river's edge, we stop for our golden tea at a suburban oasis serving the same sought-after potions as those of  locations in the City we call home.  

(To be fair, truthful and accurate, we favor two different coffee houses, one for our preferred

This Aint Us!

coffee beverages, the other exclusively serving the sport tea of which we're so fond!)

The River and the park location we discovered a few years back gives us a very different set of spectacles.  An Osprey family that nests high atop a baseball field's "night-game light" --  a family we hope returns to its nest in Spring -- and bufflehead ducks, the black and white variety that dive into rivers and lakes for their dinner, geese and other species of duck, occasionally turtles and other amphibians.  And small furry woodland creatures and white-tail deer.  Nature and a natural setting at its most beautiful and gratifying. 

Such are the Simple Joys...   If we can't actually retire in the relatively near, or distant, future, we can in fact approximate a kind of semi-retirement, in which we can snatch a few restful hours with delicious tea, not necessarily "and sympathy" (if you get the reference!), but glorious nature and so many of its natural denizens, those native to our world and the specific biosphere we're privileged to inhabit. 

(Special Note of Attribution and Dedication:  For SweetHeart, my constant tea-savoring and much-loved partner, who, with me, so enjoys the ship sightings, the beasts, the waters and the flora, the natural settings we long to spy through our binoculars or naked eyes when we can in fact savor a semblance of leisure time, of "semi-retirement"... the Simple Joys of GeezerHood!)  

Humbly Submitted, 01-31-2022 -- by Joel K.