love – I like to write junk…

NUMBER PLEASE

“What seems so unreal is that I still remember part numbers from my days working at an automotive parts store.”

I’ve always had a good memory, remembering small things from long ago. I chalk it up to never being dependent on recreational drugs or alcohol. Lately, what I seem to forget more than anything else is connecting names with faces.

I’ll watch an old movie and when some well-known actor comes on scene, oftentimes his or her name is on the tip of my tongue yet I can’t spit it out. This can be irritating, with it having me wonder if I’m becoming senile.

Whenever this happens, I quietly ask myself, “What is the firing order of a Chevrolet V-8 engine. Thus far, I’ve been able to rattle off 1-8-4-3-6-5-7-2 without hesitation. Car guys and gals know what I’m talking about here. As long as I get those numbers right, I have to assume all is good upstairs.

Last winter, I was with some friends at the Desert Bar near Parker. The name of this place can be misleading for those who’ve never been there. The rustic establishment is built around a former gold and silver mine, and it’s totally off-grid. I view it as more of a ghost town with a live band. It’s definitely family-friendly.

There are antique cars and old rusty mining stuff to be seen, including an awesome replica western day church, complete with a steeple. Yes, weddings can be arranged. The food is good, and I always make sure to bring cash because they don’t take checks or credit cards. Beer is served, but for guys like me, they have soft drinks as well.

On this last trip, a fellow and his wife walked up and recognized me. They knew my name and started up a conversation. All during that time, my brain was going, “I know these folks, but for the life of me, I don’t recall their names.” Seeing that I was confused, they helped give my memory a jumpstart.

Walking back to our table and repeating their names over and over, wanting them to permanently sink in, I informed my wife about my memory lapse. I told her that I’d make sure to remember their names next time. I have been doing so for several months now, even writing them down on a piece of paper. That paper is now hiding somewhere, and I don’t recall where I put it. 1-8-4-3-6-5-7-2.

They’re a nice couple, much younger than us, snowbirds, they come from Minnesota each winter, owning a home here. I can remember almost the whole conversation we had over coffee at Bashas. We planned on getting together when they came back and going metal detecting.

What seems so unreal is that I still easily recall part numbers from my days working in an automotive parts store. That was 40 years ago. The Spicer number for a 1975 Chevrolet Blazer constant velocity centering joint is 210782X. The Standard ignition number for Chevy points is DR2270P. Ford points are FD8183V. I could go on and on.

Why is it that I can still relate numbers to parts, yet faces to names is now escaping me? How do older ministers handle this problem? I suppose calling everyone brother or sister works, at least for a while.

Taking the herb Ginkgo biloba is supposed to help in the memory department, or at least a friend told me that eons ago. I believe at this point it’d do little good, and besides, one of my doctors said it’s not good to take this if you’re on blood thinners. Mark that off my list.

They say AI technology can recognize facial features. The police and other protective agencies have been using such for years. I believe the answer for older folks like me is for everyone to have a barcode stamped on their forehead. Keeping a scanner in my back pocket, I could then scan and say without embarrassment, “Hello, Joe, how are you doing today?”

I’m only joking here, but in reality, the world could be coming to that!

YOU PEOPLE!

“Our letter must’ve touched a frayed nerve on this subject.”

I’ve heard the phrase “you people” for a good part of my life, although I’ve observed it used more often these past 20 years. Generally, the words pop up when someone is angry. Young folks have been known to use such language when talking about the older generation, and vice versa.

My AI helpmate, the lovely, but imaginary, Miss Purdy, tells me the following about what ‘you people’ means:

“You people is a phrase that can be interpreted in many ways, but it often carries negative connotations, especially when used to refer to a specific group of people, like an ethnic or racial group. It can create a sense of distance or division, implying an ‘us vs them’ mentality.

Miss Purdy went on to say this happens quite often on Facebook, with me not even realizing she was on social media. She went on to explain that the phrase, while not inherently offensive, its usage is often viewed as disrespectful, condescending, or even racist, depending on the context and the speaker’s intent.”

Years ago, my wife and I mailed out Christmas cards with a religious message, as we always do. Several weeks later, our card and letter came back from one individual, all marked up in red ink with negative language. The words ‘you people’ were included several times in their scathing remarks.

Our letter simply stated what Joleen and I, along with our children, had been doing. I didn’t brag or boast, basically talking about what the kids were up to in college. We ended it with God Bless and have a Happy New Year, as we’d done for perhaps 30 years.

The recipient made it clear that they didn’t think we practiced what we preached regarding how a Christian should act. Our letter must’ve touched a frayed nerve on this subject. They made sure to end things by saying, “Never send me one of these hypocritical letters again!”

After reading things, with the hair on the back of my neck standing at full attention, recklessly on my part, I fired a scathing reply back via our postal service. It was like tossing gasoline onto an already burning fire. Thinking about things later that night, I wished that I could’ve stuck my hand in the mailbox and retrieved that angst. I believe many people have done the same.

Looking back on the incident with a bit more wisdom, I should’ve waited, digested exactly why this person was upset, and then perhaps called them instead. Eventually, this did take place over the phone, although permanent damage had been done. Our relationship was never the same, with bipolar disorder on their part a big reason why.

The other day on television, I watched an agitated older actor use the term,” You people!” He was directing it at MAGA supporters. Robert DeNiro’s message wasn’t taken as offensive like I might’ve viewed it only a few years ago. I actually chuckled—seeing it as more of a compliment than an insult.

Getting back to that person belittling our family card and letter at Christmas in 2002. Had I been tuned in to the Bible more than I was, I would’ve seen that Jesus has an answer for such in Matthew 5:11. “Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you, and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me.”

Had that Biblical lesson been known by me, I would’ve refrained from retaliation. My hasty action and need to ‘speak my mind’ were far more damaging to this person than her angry words to me.

Proverbs 12:18. “The words of the reckless pierce like swords, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.”

EVERYDAY HOUSEWIFE

“Not any of my male friends that I’m aware of are concerned about wrinkles.”

Singer and songwriter Glen Campbell had a hit tune in 1968 called “Dreams of the Everyday Housewife.” I was only 14 at the time, thus, this song and its lyrics meant little to me.

A couple of teenage girls I knew back then, undoubtedly, could relate Glen Campbell’s words to their mothers. I suppose they now do the same with their own lives. The first stanza has a powerful meaning, with the complete song a thought-provoker.

“She looks in the mirror and stares at wrinkles that weren’t there yesterday. And thinks of the young man that she almost married. What would he think if he now saw her this way?”

My mom, in comparison to the song, wasn’t an everyday housewife, although she probably desired to be such. Along with being a helpmate to Dad and a mother to my brother and me, she worked a full-time job to help make ends meet.

Housekeeping was added to this equation as well, although Jim and I helped out in this department. Despite both parents working, life wasn’t so bad for us boys. We had a tad more freedom than some kids, with them often being away.

I still recall my folks having to use Household Finance to obtain a loan, with the interest rate near 30%. That made it virtually impossible to pay this debt off, yet they somehow succeeded. Dad warned my brother and me about the pitfalls of borrowing money and told us to avoid doing so in our lives if we could.

In later years, my father mentioned that business loans were somewhat different, as long as the business owner was personally protected from litigation by placing things under a corporation. I’ve always remembered that advice — seeing it come into play several times with family and friends.

Housewife is considered a demeaning term by some left-leaning women’s rights advocates, portraying the term to mean an uneducated woman relegated to serving her husband and children with no interest in a career. I see their analysis as offensive. Stay-at-home moms should be celebrated just as much as those entering the workplace, perhaps even more.

Changing directions just a smidgen, senior citizens are constantly bombarded by commercials on television trying to hawk some type of wrinkle-erasing cream. It seems as if they’re directed at us anyway.

One such advertisement shows a daughter applying a cream under her aged father’s eyes. Before and after photos show a difference, yet small and barely readable printing at the bottom of the infomercial dictates that the result is not long-lasting.

Not any of my male friends that I’m aware of are concerned about wrinkles. Some women, on the other hand, are a different story. My mother used something called Oil of Olay. This company is now called Olay, and the product originated in South Africa. While there’s some mystique about the name, the main ingredient is simplistic lanolin. I get a dose of that every day when I wash my hands and face with soap.

Living in Arizona is hard on the skin, and one only has to look around to see the damage. I try to use skin protectants along with wearing hats to protect the sensitive scalp. Having burned my head in Hawaii years ago, I’ve never made that mistake again.

My wife always comments about a new wrinkle here or a new wrinkle there. I never see them unless she points things out. That unpreventable aging goes with a portion of the marriage vows saying, “For better or for worse.”

Looking at another set of lyrics from Glen Campbell’s song, “The photograph album she took from the closet and slowly turns the page. And picks up the crumbling flower, the first one he gave her, now withering with age.”

When a couple ties the knot, I highly doubt they’re looking down the road wondering how their mate is going to look in 50 years. That shouldn’t even enter their minds. Had that been the case, Joleen should’ve visualized a train wreck in me.

My looks have significantly changed for the worse, yet my persona remains not much different than when we married in 1977. She fared much better where aging is concerned, and her sense of humor or outlook on the future hasn’t suffered at all. Most of us geriatrics fit that bill. Our minds don’t seem to age at all, unlike our bodies.

Just recently, I read a story about a couple in New York who’ve been married for 80 years. Anthony and Gloria Aquaro are both over 100 years old and still live together in a home owned by their grandson.

Before and after photos of the couple are as expected, with time molding them into relatively healthy centenarians. Tony Aquaro had words of advice for keeping two people together for so long: “In a marriage, you can’t be a big boss. You have to respect each other’s wishes!” He went on to say that finding and keeping a good wife is the key to longevity.

Gloria mentioned that they did have disagreements, yet those arguments didn’t take precedence over their love and respect for one another. “Just never stop loving each other. I still love him as much as I did when we first met!”

Gloria Aquaro went on to explain that they were high school sweethearts and that she came to know Tony at a baseball game he was a player in. After winning the game, Tony asked for a kiss and was turned down. Despite this, it was love at first sight for both.

I can visualize Anthony Aquaro, in a croaky voice, singing the ending lines to Glen Campbell’s song and truly meaning every word of it. This stanza especially fits with many older men and women throughout the world.

“Oh, such are the dreams of the everyday housewife, you see everywhere, any time of the day. An everyday housewife who gave up the good life for me.”

Tony died in 2024 at the age of 103. Gloria resides in an assisted living facility.

LIFE CHANGER

“Mikey doesn’t play that game anymore.”

I’ve read numerous times on Facebook and other social media venues where a person makes an unpopular comment, and someone slithers out of the darkness to try and ridicule that individual’s viewpoint.

These disrupters generally attempt to impress the gathering crowd of readers by first making a highly flammable or snarky comment. Their intent is to start an argument, and it often works, yet not with me. Mikey doesn’t play that game anymore.

I’ve now encountered this type so often, that I can predict whether something I say will elicit a negative response. It’s easy to forecast such, especially when I’m in a group that mostly doesn’t think the same as me.

Such was the case the other day with a man named, Bill. He wanted to change the direction of the whole discussion, at least with me he did. More on that later.

A friend of mine who shall remain anonymous, sincerely wanted to know why Republicans were so supportive of President Trump and Elon Musk, asking this of her over 1000 Facebook friends. I believe she truly wanted to get a better perspective on things for her own understanding.

This intelligent and very articulate lady does not like Donald Trump, and she’s not the only one I know who thinks this way. Hey, everyone is free in this country to their own opinions!

I commented in so many words that God, family, and country were my priorities — in that order — and that this new extremist Democrat Party was attacking a certain religion, ridiculing the nuclear family, and trying to take down our country through either not enforcing laws, or creating perverse ones against my religious and moral fiber.

I went on to say that our choice of candidates in the last election only left me with one solid choice, especially since Kamala Harris refused to answer questions, and when she tried, nothing came out of her mouth but word salad.

If someone wants to argue that part with me they better clean out their ears first. Mrs. Harris, mumble-jumbled more sentences than Fred Sanford did during his whole career at Sanford and Son.

Those people commenting on Facebook were most cordial, with a good many not agreeing with me as expected, and some folks that I didn’t know coming to my defense by saying, “We should be respectful of everyone’s viewpoints although they might differ from our own.”

The interaction between those having different opinions was quite educational and without hostility, which doesn’t always happen. I believe the debate originator came away feeling the same.

Getting back to that intended disruptor I mentioned earlier, I’ll only say that his name is Bill, and after reviewing his background we have some things in common. Both of us attended East High — also having a couple of the same friends —but things drastically ended there.

Almost every one of Bill’s posts on his site has something negative to do with DT — that’s my nickname for Donald Trump. I’m no psychologist here, but this man definitely has Trump Derangement Disorder, or TDD as it’s often called.

The man is infatuated with this hate because it spews forth like molten lava from Kilauea Volcano. Getting back to something I said earlier, “Everyone is free in this country to their own opinions and Bill is welcome to his!

Bill’s snarky comment to me regarded religion, with it being, “I’m sorry, Michael, but which God? There are so very many…”

One thing I’ve never debated with others is my personal religious beliefs. I know without doubt where I’m going after I leave this world, with others free to join me if they so desire. Bill is especially welcome because the fellow is deeply lost if he believes there are multiple creators of this universe. I’ll be praying for him in this area.

According to the Holy Bible, there is but one God. Hopefully, Bill does a small amount of reading here and he’ll see the light. Bill simply needs to repent of his sins and ask Jesus Christ to take him to Heaven when he dies. A person doesn’t have to be an intellectual guru to see this —as John 3:16 lays things out so simple that even a caveman would understand.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son. Whoever shall believe on him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.”

I gave my life to Jesus Christ soon after graduating in 1972, in the front seat of a 1965 Chevy, and I’ve never looked back. I’m not a minister or an ordained priest, but I can sincerely say that it was the best decision I’ve ever made.

I can only hope that others do the same before it’s too late because I’d love to see them on the other side with me!

LEGACY

“The way we treat people comes under this heading.”

As I’ve gotten older the word legacy has become more and more important to me. What will I leave behind in my life that will positively enhance others? I find different interpretations of legacy in dictionaries and the Holy Bible.

Judaism indicates that legacy can be good or bad, with spiritual or Godly legacy foremost over that of monetary or material assets, such as real estate, stocks, and bonds. A bad father or mother can leave a blemished legacy where children are concerned. Thankfully, my parents don’t fit the bad mold and hopefully, I don’t either.

Godly legacy enriches people’s lives long after a person is gone. The way we treat others comes under this heading. I find evangelist Billy Graham and Mother Theresa fitting this definition more than anyone.

As a Christian—faith, values, and traditions much like the Jewish also take precedence over that of leaving behind wealth. Both religions make it clear that there’s nothing wrong with making sure your family is financially secure once you’re gone. Not everyone can do that.

A spiritual legacy is defined as non-material, such as stories, beliefs, values, and wisdom. That seems to fit with me, although I do strive to leave something of all three. Spiritual legacy can be left behind through videos, tapes, books, and even letters.

Being a writer, and loving to research the lives of people who have long since departed, in certain cases all I’ve uncovered is a decaying gravestone more than anything else. I find that sad.

Some of these men and women were one-time owners of huge companies, with the businesses now long gone and their establishment names no longer remembered. Other than an aging obituary telling more about their business accomplishments than anything, it appears these folks dropped off the face of the earth without leaving any lasting legacy at all. They seemingly followed the dollar more than God. I don’t want that happening to me.

Perhaps the saddest thing I’ve observed over my lifetime is encountering family and friends who’ve said to me, “I plan on letting my children make up their own minds about what religion to choose.” The scriptures don’t recommend this, with that leading me to believe these folks weren’t Bible readers, although they claimed to be. Years have now passed and I see the aftermath of their flawed philosophy. It wasn’t good in some cases although a few of these offspring finally came to their senses and saw the light.

I watch YouTube videos quite often, especially following the life of hobo “Shoestring” Mark Nichols. Mark was a military veteran and has been a hobo traveling the rails throughout the US for some time.

“Shoestring” documented his adventures via a blog he started around 1989, and then began videoing them. He had over 2,000 followers on YouTube. The man was paid well for his episodes and loved by many. In his videos, he comes across as a very caring person. In several episodes he calls out to God for help or thanks him for help received.

Mark Nichols unlike Billy Graham, Mother Theresa, or other noteworthy people still left behind a positive legacy despite his hobo lifestyle. I believe that everyone can do the same as it’s strictly a matter of choice.

Sadly, “Shoestring” suffered through cancer, diabetes, a bad back, and macular degeneration of the eyes, with liver failure believed to have led to his unexpected death. His stories live on through numerous writings and films.

I can only hope Mark Nichols knew Jesus Christ as Savior, and I believe he did, or his legacy becomes significantly dimmer. The Bible says this about legacy where our faith is concerned in Deuteronomy 6: 6 & 7 (KJV). Moses is speaking here about the Ten Commandments:

6. “These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts.”

7. “Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down, and when you get up.”

If parents heed these two verses alone and pass them on as instructed, I believe the legacy left to children and grandchildren far surpasses that of wealth and prosperity.

If I’ve achieved only that much—I deem my life to be successful.