23 February 2014 "By Name I have Called You."
Hello My Friend!
I realize I missed some important dates on my bluegrass calendar by being away in San Francisco. I actually tried to find some bluegrass while I was out there, but sadly, nothing compares to what exists (in spades!) in Maryland and Virginia. I keep trying to tell people it doesn't compute on the west coast, but people won't believe me. I checked in on the Northern California Bluegrass Association website to find out what was going on, and the site hadn't been updated in a year. The local site for San Francisco listed one band playing at a place called the Atlas Cafe. I would have one chance to catch a band that called itself "Hillbilly Robot." The name was enough to tell me I didn't want to see what they had to offer (advertised as bluegrass/Americana). I went on Youtube to see what they had posted, and was further convinced not to waste my money. The music was so obtuse it only deepened my suspicion that real bluegrass music out here is probably practiced by secret cults that meet behind locked doors. Nine days in California and the best music I heard was on the way out, and on the way back to Virginia on the Virgin America Airline playlists. Great! Ten hours of flight time listening to "The Bakersfield Sound." with Merle Haggard, Vince Gill, and Buck Owens. When I was stationed at Twenty-nine Palms Marine Corps base in the 60's Bakersfield was not that far away and I knew that real country music was being produced there. We were told to stay away from Bakersfield unless we wanted to end up with our throats cut with a broken beer-bottle. Hearing that only added to the curiosity factor and so, I had an early taste of Bakersfield. And no regrets since Bakersfield is now in the annals of musicological history.
I set my bluegrass addiction aside. After all, the music business and music world, and the world that musicians inhabit, is, to put it simply, a recreational pursuit. It's like golf or shooting pool. It's the way human beings are entertained in their spare-time. As long as hominids are willing to plunk down money to be entertained for a short period, there will be entertainers. Some of them actually acquire fame and great riches from the endeavor to make people happy. I feel mentally healthy enough to see where the guide-lines are in this pursuit of happiness. There are priorities in life. I don't think I truly understood it until the birth of our one-and-only grand daughter. She's the reason I had to put everything aside and fly out to San Francisco. She goes to a private school endorsed by the French school system, and my daughter-in-law had to make a trip to France to clear up some family business. Connie and I enjoyed the opportunity to go out for nine days and play guardian while she was off for school vacation. As I stated, there are understandings and insights that come much later in life, and they smack you in the face like a true moment of epiphany. When I was a working guy in an office full of males, I used to roll my eyes when the men dug out pictures of their grandchildren and would exclaim, "Look at what he's doing!" or "Look at my grand daughter. Isn't she a doll?" Then they would caveat every exclamation with, "Oh yeah, right. You're not a grand father yet, Well, You Wait!" It was like being right out of boot camp and being called a boot again. We go through life in the 'continual boot status.' There's always somebody older and with more experience to bring us back down to humility.
With that humility you begin to experience blessings. There are plenty of grand fathers (even in my own circle of friends and associates) who for whatever reason, are alienated from their children and grand children. A family squabble turns into divorce and court battles and an endless litany of misery. No family is immune. I've heard too many truly sad stories. I have to keep reminding myself that I'm the lucky one in this picture of societal breakdown. My grand daughter is now 8 years-old and it's been the greatest eight years of my adulthood. I've had time to experience all those joys the other grand fathers told me would happen. Of course I never believed any of the stories; cynic that I am. There is another blessing I have to mention, too. I'm healthy enough to really enjoy hiking, horse-camp, and lots of outdoor activities as I watch her develop all the marvelous skills she has. It's also nice to know that she thinks I'm crazy. A sense of humor is mandatory in the Henry family, along with an artistic temperament.
The world can stop tomorrow. I'm on a higher calling. I've been thinking for these past eight years that my whole life has just been Boot-Training for this period of my life when I can enjoy it with my grand daughter. I understand that my name was called the day I was born (as all of our names are called). Then in a second life the names of our grand children are called too, and we have to answer the call as grand parents. We begin to try and figure it all out. Life meanders on, sometimes blessed and not so blessed, and then new life enters to show us a new path of responsibilities, caring, and commitment to be the best that we can for our grand children. I've always referred to it as the "Second Set of Dreams." Just when we think we've had enough of this or that, God sends us a second chance through the beauty of the birth of our grand children. He gives us a second chance to take another look at life and make us realize that life is pretty good. I've been thinking a lot, too, of my own grand father. He left me with wonderful memories of learning to handle a rifle and fishing for long hours on the banks of the Allegheny River. Dad never took the time to do these things. My grand father taught me skills that paid off later in the war in Vietnam. I want to leave good memories for my grand daughter. We have to treasure every minute of the Second Set of Dreams. It's all in God's time and we can't waste any of it on things that don't really matter in the final analysis.
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