A Quick Note

Hello All, this is just a quick note. If you have or are reading my blog, thank you. I enjoy writting and this is a good outlet for me.  I am currently working on my second book, and trying to get my first into publication, so you will be seeing alot more posts from me. If you have any suggect ideas to write about, comments or questions, feel free to enter them or to contact me at jacksonl1961@gmail.com  Am always open to suggestions and feedback.  It helps me and gives me idea's to use in my writting.. Thank You and I hope you enjoy and hope maybe my blog is being of some use. Larry. 

Rite Of Passage

Rite Of Passage

        I was inventorying my life this last month, with the passing of my mother, and saw the different passing’s of time.  Looking it over, there seems to be rites of passage into different age groups or maturity levels. Funny as to how, as I have gotten older I can see these lines drawn on the calendar of life. These lines have very little to do with age but more to do with the level of maturity that Life seems to judge me ready for.

        When I was younger, it seemed like they were all little type things.  Like the first time I walk to school by myself.  The first time I was allowed to ride my bike alone.  The first time I was asked to go to the store to pick something up for my parents.  These little pebbles of stone upon which a foundation of trust was build between me and my parents. Sort of like Life was judging me worthy as I grew. Time kept rolling on and the level or bar of who I was to be, seemed to get raised, whether I wanted or not.

        The raising of the bar was not based on accomplishing a task but more on the way I handled a situation. When I was 13, I started to work for my Dad out at the campgrounds in the summer.  Seemed as I got older I discovered I liked having money in my pocket.  It was the typical mowing grass, brushing the camp sites, minding and stocking the store, and on occasions cleaning the fish the campers, tourists caught. Cleaning fish can be a disgusting job in the summer heat of Minnesota, with the flies and mosquitoes buzzing around.  But, every day I would be out there, doing what I was supposed to do, and earning money for my savings account. Being a father now, I can respect the Life lessons that this taught me and I can see now, how it was crossing the line from carefree summer time into maturing growing into Life.  The bar of responsibility rising as I grew.

        Now not all of the passages came about from something good.  Sometimes the bar rose as a result of my stupidity.  When I was 15 on Halloween, a buddy of mine and I kind of stole some beer from the local grocery store.  I say kind of, because we were obviously not of age to buy it, and I did leave the money for it at the register. But in truth I guess we did steal it.  We were not out to cause trouble, we just climbed  up on the schools flat roof, drank the beer, smoked some cigarettes and watched the young kids trick and treating on Halloween.  Well, on the walk back home, we were taking the alley way, and the local policeman, checked on us to make sure we weren’t up to no-good, smelled beer on our breath.  That earned me a ride home in the cop car and my buddy a ride to the station to wait for his dad.  Being the youngest I was not the first of my family to be brought home in a cop car.  Actually you could say I was holding up the tradition of my brothers and sister in doing so.

        My Dad was not happy, not happy at all. When the whole story came out, and I actually was honest about it, it was the first and only time my Dad ever hit me.   Being a father, I can understand, and even at that time, thought it was justified. It was just the consequences of my own stupidity. The next morning my Dad carted me over to the grocery store, so I could talk to and apologize to the owner, which I did, and that led to another story for a another time. But the dynamics between my parents and I, and for that matter my brothers, sister and I had changed.  The bar had raised, and Life no longer saw me as a boy but as a young man.  My parents and siblings saw me as growing up.  Yes I had done something stupid, but it was in the handling of it, and in the standing up and taking responsibility for it, that Life raised its expectations of me.  While my Dad was angry for the stupidity part, I think also he had some pride in knowing he had taught his son how to handle the situations that arise out of stupidity.