Quotes I love …

“What we do in life echoes in eternity” Maximus

“You can preach a better sermon with your life than with your lips” Oliver Goldsmith

“Anybody can be a slacker” Ward Cleaver

“Good judgement come from experience and experience comes from bad judgement” Barry LePatner

“Sometimes God leads you to a storm” Pastor Brent Taylor

“The strongest reason for the people to retain the right to keep and bear arms is, as a last resort, to protect themselves against tyranny in government.” Thomas Jefferson

“Follow rules, directions and instructions” Genevive Kvam, my 5th grade teacher

“You go way me you !” Rosemary M. Brehm, age 2

“That’s the way it goes” My Dad’s response when anything goes…

“Some fence posts don’t last that long” Uncle Gene commenting on Aunt Sue’s 50th birthday

“Free throws win games” Me, to the 2nd grade girls basketball team I coached.

“There’s a lot to be said for perseverance and endurance”. Aunt Gerotha Gentry

“It takes a man to make a man” Leroy Jethro Gibbs

“…some things are just too true to ever say out loud.” Tony Early

“The business of life is the acquisition of memories. In the end that’s all there is.” Mr. Carson

“The best is yet to come”. My mother.

“Happily ever after isn’t something that actually exists; it’s just lazy story telling”. Carolyn Hax

“There are many different kinds of bars, but only two matter: the bars that make you feel like an abject failure, and those that reassure you that you’re making the right choices. The crappy college bars and the Cheers bars, if you will…in one, you learn who you really are. In the other, you learn exactly how good you could be.” Amy McCarthy in the Dallas Observer, 2015 Vol. 35, #22

“We are the old men now”. Me to my friend Perry

“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” J.R.R. Tolkien

“Stories live forever, but only if you tell them.” Bud Vogel (James Cromwell) in Memorial Day (2012)

“Cheap men need expensive jigs; expensive men need only the tools in their toolbox.” Matthew B. Crawford

“”… knowing is higher than doing.” Larry P. Arnn in Imprimis , Nov. 2023, Vol. 52, Number 11

A Very Important Man

When I was a kid, growing up in bucolic Falls Church, Virginia, I didn’t have a name for “them”, but I knew them when I saw them.  They didn’t live in my neighborhood of neat brick homes on streets lined with trees older than the Civil War. Homes that were solidly built by men who returned home after winning World War II.  No, those men weren’t  “them” either.

Across the creek and through the woods behind my elementary school, there was an estate. Walnut Hill, also the name of my Elementary School.

Many times my father, not one of “them”, and I would drive by the stately Walnut Hill Mansion,  as we called it, and I would stare at the manor and ask: “Dad, who lives there?”  “A rich man named O. Roy Chalk. I think he is a lawyer. A very important man”.

In the days before the internet, this was very impressive for a young boy to hear of such from the man that brought him into the world.

“A Very Important Man”.

The notion that I lived near, and went to a school that was named after a mansion that a very important man lived in was intriguing to me. After all, I was taught in that school that all me were created equal. And in Sunday School, my teachers all taught that we are all God’s children.

The notion of being an important person stuck with me through the bad fashion decade of the 1970s, where it became fashionable to become more inclusive to use the pronoun “person” rather than being gender specific. Still, “Important People” had become a thing. The thing had become real, up close and personal the first and only time that I appeared before a juvenile traffic court judge in Fairfax, Virginia.

As most first year drivers, I ran in to the back of a stopped car at a traffic light and was charged with Failure To Pay Full Time And Attention. Guilty as charged. However; despite my professed guilt, I was summoned to court to appear before the judge.

My father as my counsel (not a member of the Virginia bar, mind you) accompanied me to court. I was later in the docket that morning, but we arrived early. After all, the court house is where Important People gather to do their important work. And such important work it was, or appeared to be.

In those days you could read the posted charges of the cases being tried and decided by these important people on a cork bulletin board outside each courtroom. On the docket was a case just like mine. “Defendant John Doe v Commonwealth of Virginia, Counsel for the Defendant: R. Charles Smith, III.” Followed of course by “Defendant: James Samuel Miller, Jr. v Commonwealth of Virginia. Counsel for the Defendant: Pro Se.”

Pro Se?

Did the Clerk of the Court put their finger on the wrong row of the Selectric keyboard when they typed this up?

My dad, being well versed and washed with 25+ years of service at the US Department of Agriculture in Washington, DC, translated for me that “Pro Se” means “you are representing yourself – you don’t have a lawyer in other words…” My heart sank a little lower.

Back to my docket buddy, dressed in his freshly starched white shirt, country club tie, navy blue blazer with a very important crest embroidered on the pocket over his heart. Young Mr. John Doe stood smugly silent next to a very Important Man, whom the Judge cordially acknowledged, simultaneously looking over his glasses and down at the Important R. Charles Smith, III.

“How does the Defendant plea?” asked the Important Judge.

“Your Honor, should it please the Court, permission to approach the bench?”

The Important Judge waived for the Important R. Charles Smith, III to approach.

Whispers were exchanged, heads nodded in agreement, and the Important Judge waived the Important Man back to the desk with his client.

While simultaneously clearing his throat and reaching for his black Estabrook fountain pen, neatly angled from the 8 ball holder on his desk, the Judge scribbled his signature, banged his gavel and proclaimed “Matter dismissed. Next case”.

My stomach churned, even more than before. I was newly minted “Pro Se”. What would I say to the Important Judge if he asked me a question? The thought of me being asked to approach the bench in my on Easter Sunday suit from the boys department at Sears never crossed my mind until now.

The bailiff bellowed for all to hear “In the matter of the Defendant, James Samuel Miller, Jr., Pro Se v Commonwealth of Virginia, charged with Failure to Pay Full Time and Attention while driving a motor vehicle on the streets of Fairfax County, Virginia”.

Judge: “Rise please, Mr. Miller”.

Does he mean me or my Dad, the real Mr. Miller in the room?

We both stood.

“How do you plead to the charge?”

With a crack in my voice, and with all of the courage a 16 year old could muster, I replied: “Guilty your Honor”.

“Very well. The court herby suspends your driving privilege’s for 3 months, except to school and to work, and additionally orders you to pay a fine of $100. See the Clerk on you way out”.

Loud gavel bang from the Judges bench, quickly followed by: “Next case”.

The rest was a fog. What just happend?

The drive from the Court House to our home was less than 5 miles. It might as well have been across 5 states. Dad broke the silence with: “The Judge was fair. Make sure that you don’t do something stupid like this again”. Humiliated, I nodded. At home in my room, I put on my Tough Skin jeans with a Charlie Daniels t-shirt (OK, it could have been a ZZ Top t-shirt) and walked the 3 blocks from home to my high school.

While gazing out the window to an outside world that I was desperately trying to make sense of, I recounted the morning events over and over in my mind. How did “Chatsworth“- my new nickname for Young Mr. John Doe, walk out without so much as a fine and I lost my privilege to drive for 3 months AND had to pay a fine, the equivalent of mowing 20 lawns in my neighborhood. It just didn’t make sense. Until I concluded that Chatsworth was a Junior Very Important Person with a Very Important Person representing him.

A notion was born.

Could it be that Very Important People, Men , Women and their children, have a different set of rules than the rest of us?

Fast forward to the 21st century. Read the headlines (you pick the medium).

There are two sets of rules: one for Very Important People and another for the rest of us.

Fire Ants

It’s been almost a year since the divisive 2016 Presidential Election. And the Fire Ants are still around. “Fire Ants”  you say ? Yep.  Never heard of them? Lucky you. You don’t want to mess with them. Here’s why. The mounds that they make are very innocent looking. Then you agitate them and they go crazy mad and bite everything in their path. Still don’t believe me, take a look at this still from a video that I shot in my back yard.

Before

After

 

Get the idea now? If you leave the Fire Ants alone, they tend to mind their own business. But step on their mound, watch out…

Still wondering how Trump won? He stirred up the Fire Ants.  They are the folks that quietly kept going to work during the Obama years in Washington and finally said “Enough”.  Trump was and is not perfect, but the Fire Ants just weren’t going to swallow  the hope and change pablum any longer. They’d had enough of “fundamentally changing” the country that they love and were skeptical of the other candidate that promised more of the same.  So they bit back where it really counted: at the ballot box.

Fire Ants. You can’t kill them.  You may as well learn how to get along with them. They’re not going away.

Welcome to the Redneck Riviera, 2016

(JSM Note: I originally posted this on my Facebook page on August 5, 2016)

OK. So the picture drew you in and it got me to thinking about how much has changed here in Gulf Shores since, on or about 1978. I’ve been coming down here to LA (Lower Alabama) and the Redneck Riviera in general since the early 1970s. With the exception of that awful summer that BP spilled oil all over the place, the sand is as white and the water as aqua colored as it’s always been. The hotels went from being 2 stories to condos that are 20+ stories tall. Not all progress is for the better. You can still eat all the fried whatever you can catch and throw in hot grease that you want. Prices are up but still bargains to be found. As for the people: you can still spot the south Louisiana crowd from yards away. All that gold and purple and dozens of empty Natural Lite cans piled up. The over 70 grandmas are still wearing those black swim suits with the skirts. In general, the guys suits are 12 inches longer than the OP beach shorts we wore when I was their age. Flip flops are the same. And I still love the fact that you can buy a pair for 97 cents at Al’s Five and Dime. Yes, it’s still here thumbing its nose at the Walmart and Dollar Generals that are on every corner. Now here’s a scientific fact, of what I don’t know. I just know it’s a fact. Tattoos have gone mainstream. On men and women. In 1978 I can assure you there were none to be seen on a woman on the beach down here. Not so today. Not judging, just reporting my empirical findings. The t-shirt shops are still the same, but they are more crude than funny and edgy like they used to be. Although there is a shop that carries “Rowdy Gentlemen” or some such and they are pretty good. Too expensive, but cleaver. Even had a Reagan Bush ’84. Only in small dang it. That’s another thing that’s changed – my size, but I’m not going there. Somethings just don’t need to be reported. Speaking of, until a few years ago I always got the local newspaper in the morning. Can’t even find a place much less a machine that sells one now. Not that I’ve missed anything in the news. Which brings me to the obvious shocker: in the 1970s and most of the 1980s there were no cell phones. And we were better off! I would be hard pressed to toss a sea shell in any direction on the beach this afternoon and not bean somebody pecking and swiping away on their Smart phone. What a waste. All of this wonderful natural beauty around you and these idiots are chasing Pokeyman around town. Good grief. But for those of you that are still reading, here’s something that I do love that hasn’t changed much. Try it the next time your down this way. Get yourself a fishing pole and go out to the water around 6:30 AM. Don’t concern yourself with catching your supper. That’s not the point. You’ll be amazed at how many people will say good morning and ask if you’ve had any luck. Luck=catching any fish. Get your mind out of the gutter. If you do pull in a fish you’ll be further amazed at the thousands of children and families that will run up to see that 1 pound 11″ long mullet that you fought to reel in. Here’s the funny part: they are genuinely AMAZED that there are fish out there in that Gulf. (And they thought that they were the only ones that went to use the Gulf when it’s just too far to walk back to the room. But I digress…). So here we are. 2016. Baring a hurricane or something worse (hint: Election. November. Zombie Apocalypse), I’ll be back. Guess my daddy’s redneck does belong to me. I’ll sport it with pride.

A new beginning and week one

A new chapter for my life. Starting a new job. So many lessons. So much to learn…

In no particular order, here is a list of lessons from my first week on the new job.

1. Putting a tie on every day is not so bad – once you get shirts that aren’t too tight in the collar!

2. “Does this match?” has now become a morning ritual question from me to my wife Amy. “Black and brown, makes a frown”. Duly noted.

3.  Big Blue really is a big stick to swing when needed. Not sure of the shelf life of that but I’ll use it as long as it’s useful.

4. Small organizations are small. Who needs IM when you can walk down the hall and ask in person?!  I like that.

5. A short commute to the office is a great thing.

6. Be very nice to the receptionist and IT guy (and remember to say  thank you to the evening cleaning lady.)

7. Find out what the people in the office like to drink (Diet Coke) and bring in a case and stock the break room refrigerator. Your in-box will be flooded with thank you’s!

8. Say yes to everything they throw your way. The worse thing that can happen is you play the “I’m new” card.   The best thing that will happen is they will think you are a genius and you make a good impression.

9. Observe what people display in their office / work area. You can learn VOLUMES about them by just looking around. And then at the right time ask a short question about something you saw – then SHUT UP and let them talk.

10. Leave on time, whatever that time is. They don’t have to know where you are going but it’s better for them to know that you have a life early on than to try to explain that later.

Adios.

A Four Bits Christmas Wish

When I was a kid there was a playground rhyme that we used to recite: “Two bits, four bits, eight bits a dollar…” Maybe you remember it. I never really understood the concept of a bit until I asked my dad one day and he tried to explain it to me. Fast forward to the internet and you can now easily find out everything that you ever wanted to know about the history of bits. And I do mean “bits” and not “bytes”. That’s fodder for another blog posting someday. But not this day.

Just this week I was making my run to the post office to buy stamps to mail our annual family Christmas cards. My mother loves Christmas cards and I still send them on her behalf to the few that are still around to send them to.  I’ve noticed over the last ten years or so that she, and we, receive fewer and fewer Christmas cards. I understand in my mother’s case; her peers and loved ones are simply passing away. In my case I think it’s two things: technology and busyness. The two go hand in hand.

Technology has made it too easy for us to instantly blast the world with a text, updated status or selfie-snap-something-or-other. Which got me to thinking…

About a month ago a childhood friend of mine posted on Facebook about an experience that she had as a very small child. It was not a happy memory for her, as it involved a very serious illness and treatment.  I remember this incidence vividly from my childhood as well. I typed on her Facebook wall that I wanted to relate my recollection of her experience, just for the record, and would send it with my Christmas card.

It’s odd to type how I still like the feel and smell of a fountain pen as it glides on the paper when I write in cursive on a good piece of stationary. For those of you that don’t know what I’m talking about, cursive handwriting was a pervasive use of communication between humans prior to the advent of the internet. Up until about 1990.

The words that I wrote to my childhood friend are not important to anyone other than the two of us. That’s what made it special. And here is where the “four bits Christmas wish” comes in to play.  Four bits is 50 cents. For less than that you can go to a post office, anywhere in the United States, and buy a little thing called a postage stamp for less than that. They come in different sizes and have many designs to choose from.  That stamp goes on an envelope, and on that same envelope you write the mailing address of the person that you are writing to. This should never to be confused with an e-mail address, They are two completely different things. Those are the mechanical steps. The magic occurs when you actually write something down on that piece of paper before you fold it and mail it.

When was the last time you received a hand written letter?

I’m still waiting for your answer…

My Christmas wish is for everyone that reads this to take up my four bits challenge and sit down for five minutes and hand write a letter to someone about something.  It doesn’t make any difference to me whatsoever what you write. Just write. Tell someone you love them. Write a corporate CEO and tell them thank you for the job that they provide you to keep the roof over your head. Write a politician and remind them about what you think about something and that you vote on election day. Just write it with your own hand on a sheet of paper. Buy that stamp and drop it in the mail.

For those of you that studied economics, you don’t have to remind me that there are other costs beyond spending less than half of a dollar for a stamp. There is your time. Could you be spending it in a more productive way? If you invested that same amount of money 30 years ago and bought a certain stock, just think of what you could have now and in 30 more years.  Seriously; who thinks that way ?!

From my own personal experience I can tell you that the recipient of your letter will at first be shocked. Shocked that you took the time to do such an antiquated gesture. More importantly, I’d be willing to bet you that they will feel honored that you thought of them to take the time to put your thoughts, and maybe even your heart, on a sheet of paper – in your own unique way.

It’s doubtful that this missive of mine will go viral. I’m good with that. This is not about fame or fortune for me. This is about being human and sharing from our hearts and minds through our hands with another human. One day in the future, long after you are gone, someone may be able to read and connect with the person that you are today. That’s a treasure that’s worth way more than four bits.

Merry Christmas.

Adios and Vaya con Dios

Dearly Beloved, Friends,IBMers and Countryman. Lend me your eyes.

After 10,696 days, which equates to 56.4% of my life to date, I am on a bridge to retirement from IBM beginning midnight, March 31, 2014. I will officially retire from IBM on December 17, 2014. If you are not interested in reading what I have to say but would like to keep in touch, skip down towards the bottom of this note and you will find my contact information. As my late Daddy would say: “time is to a wastin’ boy, get on with it”. So here goes…

If you are receiving this note it means that you meant something to me over the last (almost) 30 years I have been at IBM. I may have recruited you, been your manager, or worked for you. I mostly like to think that we worked together and for the most part got along and made the ride in this fun park we called IBM a better place. There are a few of you, and you know who you are, that made me crazy, At the end of the day I got over it and forgave you. You’ll have to wait for that screenplay in a tell all that I’m peddling to the Life Time Movie Network to see who plays your part. Don’t worry, characters portrayed are fictional and any resemblance to those living or dead is mere coincidence.

First things first. Do NOT feel sorry for me. God has great things in store for us. He says so in the Bible, right there in Jeremiah 29:11 and 1 Peter 5:10-11. Look it up. I’ve walked this earth long enough to know that He does everything for a reason and when one door closes, another opens. I’m excited to start this next chapter of my biography.

A word or two of wisdom. For those of you that were tapped by this “resource action”, get over taking it personally. It’s just business. After all, business is the company’s middle name. Nothing really changes on April 1. Keep doing your best and never forget that you will always be an IBMer. We’re like Marines and Eagle Scouts that way. Remember also that the job you DO is NOT who you ARE. Deep, right?! You are uniquely you, created by God that loves you no matter what. If you don’t have a relationship with Him, please get in touch with me. Seriously, this has eternal implications. Jesus has a gift for you and if you don’t know how to receive it, I need to talk with you fast! If you don’t want to talk to me about it, I will find someone that you’ll be comfortable talking to. It will be the best decision you ever made. For those of you that already know what I’m talking about, forgive me for preaching to the choir. We’ll meet again one day and I look forward to introducing you to some of my friends and family.

One of my favorite little books is simply titled Desiderata. It was written around 1927 by a poet from Indiana named Max Ehrmann. If you’ve never read it, you can Google it and read the whole thing in less than two minutes. Ehrmann penned these words towards the end of his novella: “And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should…With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.”

My prayer for each of you is for eternal life with Jesus, good health, and fulfilling work.

Godspeed.

JSM

e-mail = jsmillerjr@gmail.com

Twitter = @jsmpcc

Linked In = jsmillerjr

Blog = jsmillerjr.wordpress.com

 

 

(Cue fog machine. Roll credits…)

Scene fades to black.

 

 

 

 

 

We are the old men now

It happens. Slowly. Sands through the hourglass and all that. One day you get up, slowly, and it’s there in the mirror. A gray hair. Then another. And that ever so slowly expanding belt and collar.

I think we all have a picture in our minds eye of what we look like. It might be an image from a particular event, place or time. What we don’t see is that we age. Sometimes on the move and sometimes in place.

A dear friend recently “retired” and I wrote to him “congratulations, we are the old men now”. It didn’t seem so profound when I wrote those letters but it does now.

I’ve gone back and read my previous blog postings and the consistent thread is death. Inevitable and in hind sight I think was my way of preparing for and dealing with loss. Death. The end.

I’m about to enter a new journey in my life and plan on writing about it on this blog. Hence the name: Miller’s Mindful Muddling’s. Join me for the ride.

Hang on. This might end up like Thelma and Louise.

Ronnie

So long, my favorite father in law. From your favorite son in law. Of course, as you would say: “that’s cuz you’re my only son in law”.

My sister

She’s out there. Somewhere in the world she’s out there. She’s never met my family; nor I hers. But she’s out there. Somewhere.

The year was 1961. My parents decided that they would adopt a baby. A girl baby. Their dream was to have a little girl. And since the Good Lord had not blessed them with a little pink bundle of joy, they pursued the next best thing: adoption.

Papers were filled out. Backgrounds researched and somewhere along the way, an “Approved” stamp was used to move the paper to the next approver.
And the next however many approvers it took in 1961 to adopt an infant in the Commonwealth of Virginia.

But an odd thing happened: mom got pregnant. With me. And a call was made to the adoption agency saying “thanks but no thanks”. Wonder if there was a stamp for that?

I once asked mom if she was sorry that they did not adopt “Leesa” as she would have been named. Her reply was classic mom; “I’m certain a nice family adopted her”. And that was the end of that.

Over the years I’ve wondered about Leesa. Did she ever seek out her birth parents? Did she ever know that she was adopted? I’ll never know. But I’ll always wonder about the sister, my sister, Leesa.