GRUMPY OLD MAN
An Analysis
I’ve been sitting at my keyboard in a fit of sour-puss anger, talking trash with every voice that comes into my head and when they stop I continue to talk trash to myself. What a luxury! After about an hour of grumpy conversation with those characters that have crossed my path this morning I got a nudge from my conscience that suggested that this would be a good time to put pen to paper, so to speak.
It began with a comment on one of my comments on that well known social network Facebook. (I often refer to Facebook as “Fightbook” or “Facefight” when snark-ness raises its ugly head.) Since then I have been retorting and capturing the upper hand with marvelous and witty words that silence the offending commentator. In fact I did post something that was sneaky and cool at the same time but if reread would slam shut on the jugular like a bear trap. Boy, did I get him good. He’ll never open his trap again.
Since that moment I’ve reworded and replayed in my brilliant and clever mind those words and variations as well as new, more vicious exchanges with old enemies and imagined new ones. Damn! I can have a good time with this. How many past experiences can I dig up and totally annihilate before I tire of this. Heh, heh. (Sneer.)
As I write this I am discharging the foolishness of resentment and the coffee I have brewed for myself is doing its job of clearing my head. More productive thoughts are being born, swimming through my skull so that I am beginning to find humor where there was none before. My first humorous idea comes from my father whom I haven’t seen or heard in over fifty seven years. He would say about a man who was in bad humor, “He needs a hot applesauce enema.” That would be me.
There is the story of the Cocker Spaniel that was let out into the backyard to relieve itself. During its time in the yard it spotted a squirrel and chased after it with terrific energy. The squirrel gained the protection of a tree and scampered up the trunk hastily. The dog stopped at the base of the tree and stared up into the branches to see the rodent clambering and scurrying to safety. The dog circled the base of the tree and barked and barked trying to keep its eyes on the escapee. By now the squirrel was too high to see and had embarked on a tree top excursion to another tree and then to another tree until it was down the block. Yet there was our little warrior sitting at the base of the original tree barking insistently, daring the rascal to come down and fight like a dog. That dog finally conceded the chase but for several days it would return to the base of the tree in a fit of excitement expecting the squirrel to be in violation of his yard rules. Sound familiar?
This story captures the essence of resentment. I remembered the story and decided it was something I’d like to share here. Mission accomplished.
Today is the first of June but you wouldn’t know it. We are in the second day of rain and my gardener friends and I welcome it heartily. I just took a turn around the yard in shorts, jacket and snow boots. I pulled on my old broad brimmed hat as well. It is quite cool outside and for the life of me I don’t know how the perennials are continuing to flourish and produce more and larger leaves as well as push out buds in this weather. It’s barely fifty degrees and drizzling. I enjoyed the wander through the various garden beds and everything seems happy. I stepped inside the greenhouse to cover a bag of wood chips stored there. The greenhouse roof has a few leaks one of which is targeting the wood chip bag. That done I filled my eyes with the beauty of wet leaves and the promise of fruit and flowers for another few minutes before returning to the warmth of The Castle.
G.M. Goodwin
1 June 2015
Here is a very short poem I wrote several years ago. I hope you enjoy it and I hope your day goes well. Thanks.
Early Spring
Sunlight plays over the bright leaves,
New leaves less than a few weeks old,
Still as new-born babies; ignorant and vulnerable,
The light does its thing
As the babies follow the warm,
All else hides; unseen and ignored
While the light does its thing.
G. M. Goodwin
March 3, 2013
Playing Fair and Being Kind 