I watched The Bridges of Madison County in two or three parts or something like that.
Someone on Mastodon posted something about how it wasn’t about wooden bridges and the snark in their comment made me curious to see what it was about.
It held my attention long enough to watch in those two or three spurts, but it was the last go that caught me because there was an old Chevy truck that reminded me of one I used to see on my way out to East Texas.
There wasn’t anything particularly special about that truck, I saw many like it in California and knew some people who drove one.
But there are things that catch our eye and remind us of experiences and that is what this truck did because it reminded me about a business trip I made to Dallas in the Fall of 2007.
It was my second trip out here, but more than a decade since the first one.
Anyhoo, I flew out and made some important connections and confirmed some things were what I thought they were and had some memorable moments trying to catch my flight back to L.A.
When I returned the rental car the agent that checked me in didn’t give me time to get my bag out of the trunk before he walked away with the keys.
Took me a minute to find someone who could call him on the radio to come back with them and then came the mad rush through the terminal to catch my flight.
Reminded me a bit of when I had to run through three terminals on a layover from Orlando to Los Angeles, except I was 20 then and didn’t care if I missed my flight. I would have gladly been bumped and taken the flight credit.
Music Break
a href=”https://youtu.be/kYKU68NfRBE”>The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face- Johnny Cash
The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face– Roberta Flack
Kashmir– Led Zeppelin
Tougher Than The Rest– Bruce Springsteen
The Breaking of the Fellowship (feat. “In Dreams”)– Howard Shore
That 20 year-old who ran through the terminals couldn’t have imagined the life he would have one day or the changes that would come.
It would be more than a decade before 9/11 and years before O.J. would become a villain. So he ran through the airport and jumped over chairs never wondering what would happen if he missed a step.
That guy could touch the backboard with both hands and on a good day get a few fingers on the rim so he figured he could and would clear anything.
And heck, if he didn’t it wasn’t an issue because within a few days any bruises or sore muscles would be gone but the almost forty year-old who raced through terminals felt differently.
He wasn’t afraid to jump over chairs or run through things because he still felt mostly invincible but he had other concerns.
He had meetings to attend and couldn’t show up looking like he had lost a fight or not be able to drive because he had accidentally busted a leg.
There was a soccer team to coach and a house that required maintenance and all sorts of adult responsibilities.
Heck, this was the time when that almost forty year-old had words with someone and their husband thought the best course of action was to call the man the almost forty year-old called dad.
Dear reader, that is not hyperbole, this other guy called my father to complain about something that had happened with me.
I won’t bore you with the details of what happened but I can share the following. Dad told this other guy that if he had a problem with me he ought to reach out to me to discuss it.
That is a moment that still makes me snort. I remember the conversation with my father and how we shook our heads at how foolish it was.
“Some people aren’t just ignorant and stupid, they are also damaged. He is one of them. If he calls you don’t waste much time on it, he isn’t capable of understanding what you are saying.”
It was good advice, never did get a call from the guy about that moment though I got one about something different.
That call came after Dad died. The kids heard some of it and told me that I was very calm but there was a significant edge to my voice.
Made me smile a bit because I had heard my own father use that edge during other conversations once or twice in specific situations.
It was a good life lesson when I heard/saw it and good for the children. There are moments where you push back in a strong, measured and logical way but not with a raised voice.
That is part of how I measure my response to situations by how loud my voice gets or doesn’t.
If I am not yelling I can almost guarantee I am calm and careful with my words. Won’t lie and say there haven’t been moments where I have made a scene because I am human, but it is pretty rare.
Some of it comes with the voice being just deep enough to not have to get loud and some of it comes from having a pretty solid argument.
Or maybe it is just dumb luck and coincidence, who knows, sometimes you can’t take yourself too seriously.
I can hear my uncle and both grandfathers saying something about that last part.
Who We Carry With Us
My son told me a while back that he can sense my presence even when I am not in the same room. I laughed and said that only happens when I am not trying to be stealthy.
He and his sister laughed and said they can always hear me breathing and that I am not as quiet as I think I am.
I laughed and said they might be surprised and thought about this picture because it fits with what the younger Mr. Wilner said.
Something about the old man always jumped out at me, not in a bad way, but in one that made me feel his presence.
You can’t see his face in this picture, just mine, but that is his arm, close enough to grab me if we he wanted to.
Still surreal to me to look at that arm and hand and realize that you could almost replace mine with it and not see much of a difference.
Four hours after Thanksgiving dinner and some things are still evident, I am my own man in so many ways and yet so much of him is in me.
So much of what we become can be related to the influences of our parents but ultimately it is the choices we make that define us.
