Past brings memories that can influence future
I am not at all sure why this moment in life offered me a chance to become a philosopher.
I am usually a “damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead” kind of guy. Mr. Webster’s dictionary defines “philosopher” as a person who offers views or theories on profound questions in ethics, metaphysics, logic, and other related fields.
So you see, I am not sure I qualify. But, having a bit o’ the Irish blood, I have been known to spend time day dreaming and contemplating the mysteries of life.
So, that brings this question.
How often do you see action in some form that triggers a memory from your past?
Some make you giggle, some make you cringe, and some you would rather just forget! But folk, life is like that.
The past brings memories that can in turn influence future actions. Those actions, both positive and negative sometime dictate our direction.
And of course, that direction can literally change the world!
Now, I am not too intent on changing the world, but any philosopher worth his salt would spend some time looking back at the things that occurred in a lifetime and then project your thoughts to the future while you exercise your imagination about changes that will come about that will most probably impact the lives of future generations. And then I come back to reality, knowing that God has a plan and as a philosopher, I didn’t affect His plan at all.
So, now I am back to just trying to having a thought with an occasional rhyme. Life is good!
LESSON LEARNED & SKILLS EARNED
‘Twas a grand October day an’ I give myself leeway ,
To just let my thoughts wander.
Mem’ry drifted back ‘til they reached my boyhood track,
An’ on this I commenced to ponder.
Thoughts will meander an’ bunch as one, Tough times an’ good times, vic’trys won,
Often you stop to study lessons learned,
From pranks an’ tasks, an’ things you did, things you do when your a kid,
Recollectin’ skills you somehow earned.
‘Course, my brothers an me was lookin’ for fun, an’ it didn’t matter much what was done,
An’ I reckon it could be said.
That devious minds may go asunder, sorta like a duck lookin’ at thunder,
Mayhem an’ mischief would be widespread.
Some things were noble an’ grand, while others should have been banned,
Sorta like thumpin’ the offerin’ plate.
When Sunday came, to Church we’d go, pert near always filled up the row,
At offerin’ time we’d participate.
Each one would thump that plate an’ take a nickle, poor ol’ Pap, he’s in a pickle,
But quick thinkin’ made it right.
A page from his tally book would do, marked it right… left an I.O.U.
Next day, he’d make us feel contrite!
Or that time at Halloween, what we did was downright mean,
But it shore seemed the thing to do.
Took ol’ Doc’s buggy plumb apart, on the Church house roof, it looked like art,
Shore put the Parson in a stew.
Sometimes you pert near meet yore match, lucky if you come out without a scratch,
An’ you breathe a sigh of relief.
But that don’t slow you down nare bit, ‘cuz we warn’t ones to up an’ quit
Though it often caused us grief.
When under Pap’s saddle blanket we put a burr, now fellers, that started quite a stir,
But Pap stayed with him ‘bout three jumps.
After the dust settled, off came his belt, we soon learned that the cards had been dealt,
‘cuz we was squallin an’ rubbin’ our rumps.
We figgered that whuppin’ we had earned, but sometimes lessons are hard to be learned,
An’ the devil does demand his pay.
So, we thought up an’ devised a foolproof plan, success would make us heroes of the clan,
We were watchful throughout the day.
The weather was hot an’ the winds were strong, an’ after dinner, we knew it would not be long,
‘til Pap headed to the outhouse.
Walked right down that path, went in an’ shut that door, we waited ‘til his overhauls hit the floor,
Then we sneaked up, as quite as a mouse.
Our lariats circled around that shed, as it toppled over, cuss words was said,
We knew it was time to light a shuck.
We headed out of there lickydee split, ‘Cuz Pap would crawl out covered in…well he’d be in a
An’ the world would be thunderstruck!
Pap allowed as how he might have owed us one, boys will be boys when they devise their fun,
But that outhouse was beyond repair.
So he figgered, rebuildin’ it, was up to us, an’ we’d better do it without ary a fuss,
An’ pranks would end right then an’ there!
Well sir, life has a way to bring you up short, from foolish, childish ways you must depart,
‘Cuz life will write yore epitaph.
All the things you did an’ the lessons learned, results in life skills you somehow earned,
But lookin’ back, does seem to make you laugh!
© Ol’ Jim Cathey
Laughing is good! God Bless each of you and God Bless America!