the ol' double nickel

does it mean it's all downhill....faster? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I've been thinking a bit about what, if anything, it means to turn 55. I'm not sure if it's significant or not. Most notable birthdays end with a zero. Somehow, this one hits me as a time to reflect, maybe. I've always been curious about the fact they call this middle age, I doubt seriously that I'll live to be 110 and I'm not sure I would want to. I believe that I am set in my ways, but it seems that I've really only recently "come into myself". I feel that who I am right this minute is finally who I am. Middle age crisis? I think it's just the time when you realize that most of what you are dealing with just doesn't mean a thing. Back a ways, I converted to Catholicism. I remember sending these questionaires out to people that had known me for a while as a bit of background. I had someone call me and ask, "who am I to comment on, the guy I knew in the 70's, 80's, or the G of the 90's"? Even though we laughed, I guess it was an honest question as I have made a few changes over the years. I feel that I have changed over the years, adapting to changes in my surroundings. I have a relative that told me I was a "survivor". I had a tattoo artist tell me I was the "coyote" of the family, another survivor. So I guess that's it, I do what I have to do to get by. Without much education, it has been rough at times. One thing I have learned, what you do today will effect where you are in the future, it will come back to haunt you or bless you as the case may be. I do have some regrets, things that simply cannot be changed, things you look at and know, you have to live with it. I have had some good times, doing things I can't or won't do again. And like the song says, "been busted for things I did and I didn't do". I'm not sure at how much crying I want to do over the past. Things now seem better in most respects, maybe concentrate on that, tell you who I am now. I have been with the same company I now work with for over 7 years. At 55, maybe that doesn't seem too impressive, but for me, it's a major accomplishment. I've never come close to that with any other outfit. At 55, I'm in training for a new job, within the same company. That is tough at times. It's a job I feel I can retire from. Fairly easy work, no heavy lifting, no standing on concrete for 12 hours a day. But at the same time, it forces me to reach for brain cells that don't seem to be there anymore. Sounds funny, but it's not. I am doing something that might please my mother, to a point. I have been in the same house for nearly 8 years. She said she used to pray for me to grow roots. I used to kid her that roots made my feet hurt. I have been known to use the excuse that my dad gave me many years ago, that the particular tribe of Native Americans that we have in our blood, were actually nomadic. It's in our blood to want to wander. Sometimes it just seems a short attention span. A.D.D.? The issue with mom is the fact that it's far from Georgia. Like when I became Catholic, she was happy to see me in church, but Catholic? I am actually trying, like a guy at work has mentioned about his own life, trying to finish well. Getting and keeping a good job, doing things that mom might give me a break about, somewhat. Trying to do some things right for a change. In that, I have been a member of a safety organization at work. I have recently stepped down as a leader in that organization after 2 years, because of that machine I'm attempting to get along with, forget mastering. I am the lead of our small safety group. I speak out, I am the voice for our little group. That is a big change from who I once was. Speak in front of a group? Me? Don't know many back home that would believe that. I do remember how my dad used to speak about the "safety man" from his job. Please her, displease him, break even. I've mentioned before that as a family, we have always been light years away from the prospect of donating blood. Some repressed family nightmare has kept us from any thought of doing that. As I also mentioned before, that there was a time when a member of the family needed a donor and couldn't find one in the immediate family. Huge, monumental regret. In trying to finish well, I have leaped this hurdle and, so far this year I have given 14 times. That is platelets, you are allowed to give every 7 days. I'm going every other Monday. I can hear, in the back of my mind, "sure, you give blood now, to a stranger, but you couldn't do it for me". Maybe gain one, lose one, break even again. I have for 2 years, been riding with the Patriot Guard Riders. We escort soldiers on their last ride. We normally have a flag/respect line at the funeral home or church. Then ride the escort to the cemetery, and hold a flag/respect line there as well. Seems simple enough, but there is tons of emotion in a funeral, especially where someones child has been killed in war. To be asked to be involved in such a personal, emotional time such as this, has been beyond words. It has been an honor above description. Amazing, as much as I draw from being with these families during their time of grief, there are times when they come to you and shake your hand or hug you and offer thanks. No points for this, maybe there is a loss of points here. You definitely take more than you give. I have and will again ride with Rolling Thunder in Washington, D.C. On their peaceful, but gigantic demonstration in calling attention to the plight of Prisoners of War and Missing in Action from all U.S. involved wars. I ride from my home in Oklahoma to D.C. by myself, until I get there. Then spend time with those I have grown up with. None I really know personally. But most of the guys I have been friends with throughout my life have been veterans of the war in VietNam and most of those are gone now. When I look at how big this demonstration is and then while talking to those I know, even though it IS quite a sacrifice and effort for me, most people I associate with have little knowledge or concern about it, other than what I tell them. Once again, when you receive more than you give.... Here's a hot one. Since my neighborhood friend's dad explained to me about politics and how Richard Nixon would be the absolute best choice for this nation, I have been a straight ticket Republican. Hmmm, right up and until this last Bush fellow mercifully left office. Without going where I REALLY want to go with this, I'll say simply....no more. Since moving to what has to be the number one, most conservative, right wing, God fearing state in the Union, I have become very liberal. It's tough holding a conversation, but as an uneducated man, I can only trust and be certain of what I see and hear. Probably no points here either. I don't care if you own a gun, just don't shoot me and stop letting your kids shoot each other. I don't care if you love someone of the same sex and want to get married, just don't try to kiss me. I don't care if you wear your pants halfway to the ground showing your underwear, I just don't do that myself. I'm not concerned with your tattoos, have some myself, pierce anything, anywhere, that's your business. As you should know, I wear my whiskers long. I appreciate the fact that my employer, for the most part has no issue with it. I do get some flak about it, just like the others I just mentioned. I remember when my first wife pierced my ear, how some would actually stand in front of me and ask, "are you like a hippy or gay?", which ear is it that means what. Pierce both like I have now and I must be a gay hippy. What goes along with my lack of concern about your individuality is the fact that I don't want you judging me for my appearance either. I try not to judge people for the way they prefer to dress or wear their hair or whatever. I have put up with decades of that. I have been overlooked for a job, more than once, because I had a beard, neatly trimmed or otherwise. They all want us to think outside of the box, but God forbid trying to GET outside of the box. Two of my favorite actors attracted my attention at a very early age because of one word. Non-conformist. A song from my early rock years says, "conform or be tossed out". From a very early age, (60s) I have misunderstood how people all over the world could look down on another simply because they are different in any way. It doesn't seem to matter what, just the fact that someone is different, that's all it takes. One reason for my change in politics, I remember what I said, but if I vote my faith, do I vote for the liar or the one that gives me choice, like our Creator is reputed to do. Why punish someone or make any kind of decision about someone, simply because of the way they look? I will never attempt to understand. Old and crotchety, I guess. Sorry dear, but my favorite thing to do has become what maybe it's always been, riding my hog down the road. Spending not near enough time, crossing this great state that has become my home, on a cool morning with the sun in my face...... I close with this from A Man Called Hoss. He described the last song on his audiobiography by calling it the beginning, Ol' Waylon said "the only thing I can say about it is that is, it ain't over til it's over..." "Time keeps changing lanes and shifting gears, racing down a road that disappears, where do we go from here..........?"