The Lost Art of the Phone Call

I recently took a part time job that required me to use an app that didn't seem user friendly. I called the office for support and someone got back to me through an email, then communication just stopped. A three minute phone call could have cleared everything up, but instead it was drawn out over days to start and stop messages and texts. Emails cetaonly have their place over calls, but I do love the immediacy of the call, the sound of the voice, the reassurance of staying on the line until the matter is fixed. Perhaps businesses find calls intrusive, but as a customer I do business with businesses to make my life better, not theirs. It is frustrating to call only to have a prerecorded message come on to prompt you to push a number for a particular office after listening to a commercial in the beginning. Then there are call centers based in non English speaking countries. You would think a prereqi=uisite for hiring operators would be a working knowlege of English serving the American market. But why should businesses accomodate their customers? That's old fashioned when businesses had a bank of operators to direct customers to the right person, and every office had a live receptionist to greet each caller in a pleasant tone. But perhaps that is just a quaint idea now.

The Radio Deejay

I just became a volunteer disc jockey at a college campus. It's been a lifelong dream to be in radio and I finally got my chance after several detours. I open the studio door and the console lights shine in the dark studio, ready for another music session with our listening audience as I prepare for another broadcast. As a disc jockey, I try to envision who is listening: A lonely traveller? A party of friends? People at work? Or background noise in someone's kitchen? I like to think of myself as a host brnging us close as one community. Between songs, I try to give information about obscure artists and songs and shocase new talent, but mainly I try to bring a message of being one of us. Welcome to the party, as the radio waves shoot out into the ether in the winter's night sky. That we are all enjoying good music together regardless of distance, people around us or circumstance. In the booth, I try to remember: like God, someone is always listening.

A World Built for Two

Each summer, I enjpy going to a winery for a drink and to listen to live music, and as summer approached this year, I highly anticipated returning. As I apprached the crowded patio, I seen once again finding a seat would be a challenge. Navigating through the crowd, I noticed an empty picnic table in the back and happily occupied it. It gave me thevantage point of watching the crowd as well as the band.All the seating was designed for groups, whether they were picnic tables or tables with multiple chairs with them. No seats just set for us loners, and I can understand that people arrice in groups or couples, so they have to be accomodated. However, for the occasional loner who shows up, it can be a bit embarrassing. One, you feel a little guilty taking up a whole table yourself when new people arrive and looking for seats. The other you feel like people are wondering why are you there alone, like you don't have friends and are out there drifting aimlessly. Sometimes you feel someone might take pity on you and invite you over, and then possibly be seen as a charity case who needs friends or an interloper of the group. Life is about being with people, I suppose, but some of us, by choice or other circumstances, are cast as loners through this journey. I like to think if I had my own venue, I would place single chairs about as a way to say to everyone, alone or in a group, that you are welcome, and be not embarassed.

The Flag Lowered Again

One of my duties at the college where I work is the lowering and raising of the flag. It is an honor to raise the colors to full glory and the rays of sunshine lighting the flag up. However, in recent times, somber occasions require me to lower the flag to half staff, much of those instances due to mass shootings. It is a constant and increasing chore that has become far too much commonplace. It has gotton to the point I have lost track on when the flag has to be raised again, pending the next violent deaths that shook our nation again. I have the feeling that it should be a white flag instead, of truce or surrender (I wish I knew which).

An Old Book Revisited

While rummaging through a library where I work doing security, I cam across an a book entitled "Working" by Studs Terkel in 1973. In it he interviwed an array of people about their occupations, from jockey to actor, hotel clerk to bookbinder and so forth. It gives an insight to those working in fields about their frustrations, lost hopes, and getting by in a job that some don't like, fell into, and pending retirement amidst lost dreams that wer not fulfilled. It was this particular book I read numerous times in high school in 1984. A time for big dreams, ambition, and a world that was going to be taken on by all of us graduates.I couldn't wait to get out in the real world and find my place: a builder of skyscrapers and bridges, an artistof beautiful pictures, or a reporter writing about the issues of our day in a national news magazine. Alas, it was not meant to be, I bounced around from one job to another, and struggled to finish my college degree when others had already established their careers, Reading the book again has becoome bittersweet nostalgia: what I thought what might have been but was never meant to be in the first place. I like to pick that book up and reread the stories of those people incareers I thought I could participate in but never could for one reason or another. I see a young sixteen year old whith high ideals and big plans reading in a high school library, and me now reading the same book in a college library where I work, and wonder whatever happened to that young man, and not only am I a bit humbled, but I also miss him and wonder whatever happened.

Summer's End

On a warm Saturday night, I decided to attend a local festival as the last throes os summer were set to disappear into the chilly fall.I walked by the food stands of kettle corn, cotton candy, and funnel cake and enjoying their aroma. Walking through the crowd, families stroled by as found a lone place to smoke a cigar. Over the years, I have found I can enjoy the gathering of people as I watch from afar, and vicariously participating in the joy of the day. A rock oldies band started to play as everyone enjoyed the music and the day slowly turned into twilight as a harvest moon eventually appeared. Nestled in the heart of the Alleghenies, there was a feeling of warmth and safety around our loved ones and neighbors. Later, on a Sunday after an evening service as the days of August were winding down, our church gathered for a softball game. It was a day of fun, a gathering of families and friends enjoying the waning day before sunset, and knowing that fall lay ahead the days of summer warmth just a memory.

Loss of a Book Store, and loss of Discovery

Walking through a local mall, I looked forward to visiting the book store. As I approached, the sight of a dark and shutttered space greeted me. Another book store closed, and I feel the world of discovery and learning is poorer for it. A victim, perhaps, of the e-book, a portable screen costing $200.

While I won't dispute the efficiency of the e-book, I will miss the leisurely browsing and walking up and down the aisles checking out whatever book the struck my interest. Whatever book I looked at closely, by cover design, color, or title, I was free to pick it up, and read from it. You may never have heard of the author or title, but there was an allure of the book that drew you closer to inspect what the story wove.

Another missed pleasure is just being able to pick up a book, to open it up, and turn a page. The texture of the paper itself, and turning the page to see how the narritive continues was part of the experience of discovery. Each book had an identity of its own in size, color, or graphics.
I love e books however and the amount of information and books they carry, and I like to think digital and print can coexist.
The sliding a finger across a screen and swiping is fine, but can never take the place of turning the page to continue your literary journey of a story in a real book.

Appreciation

"What might have been", "live with no regrets", and other such sayings guided my thinking for years. Always pushing for some new opportunity, I was never satisfied, and yet never happy either. The Quakers call it living in simplicity, where a slower pace of life, work/life balance, not bound to the latest fashions and technology, and not spending your money on a lot of luxaries are desired goals. I am no longer seeking out a more expensive car and home, living in a bigger city with a higher cost of living and a long commute. Appreciate what you have. Life with family and friends, work life balance, money saved for stormy days, and working in a respectful and appreciative environment are the values that mean the most to me in my career and life.

There is Always Another Act in Life

Thomas Wolfe famously wrote that "You can't go home again." While many have disputed it, including me, I believe you can always find another home. Perhaps not literally, ut a new act in life. As in the show "Frasier", I have been struck as he always rebonds and set up new stakes. From Boston, to Portland, Chicago, and finally to Boston again (at last count). It reminded me how in my life, I did the same thing. Losing a job in 2005, I was defeated. I knew going to my usual haunts people would ask questions as to what happened. During this timeframe, a romantic relationship dissolved as well, compounding my sadness. Not wanting myself to go to seed, I started every day with a new purpose. Getting up, puttting on new clothes, getting a shave and a shower, I trudged on in life. One day, I decided to go to the next county, where I knew no one, to explore a job opportunity. While in town, I scouted out the downtown for a place to eat. I eventually became a regular and made some new friends. Being a private person, there were details about me I didn't divulfe, and no one asked. I became a familiar face around town, and enjoying going to the diner, coffee shop to read, and tavern.I eventually earned a bachelor's degree after I reapplied to complete my degree the same day I was let go from my job. It eventually lead to another career with good retirement benefits. You may not always be able to go home again per se, but you can always start a new act in life, a new adventure, find new friends, a new job, and enjpying new interests. It could be around the corner, or the next town, or a new career.Just never give up.

The Bonfire

We all gathered together after a swim in the icy river for a charity on New Year's Day. I was alone among the others, crowded together in friendship and camaraderie in their own little groups. It had become a New Year's tradition for me. Visit the bakery for some coffee, then to the river bank as people prepared to jump in the frozen river for a good cause, some in outlandish costumes to really get into the spirit of things, from the Blue's Brothers to a bee costume. After the event, it was to a local pub and diner, and enjoyed some more coffee and free sandwiches, and with a cigar out on the porch with nearby speakers blaring out some good rock tunes. Here I would make new friends, join conversations, and renew acquaintences from the year before. Finally, the night was capped at a nightclub owned by a friend named Buster, and enjoyed a celebratory Pilsner beer. The final one I attended was in 2020, just before the Pandemic. Little did we all know that this celebration and others like it were to be put on indefinite hold. For some reason, I felt a sense of foreboding. As usual, I stood back and enjoyed seeing the people having fun and socializing around the bonfire, huddling close one another as a shelter against the cold air and river water, and taking it all in. Slowly, each of the circles of friends left for the bar until there was a small remanant of us around the bonfire, and it cracked as the embers blew in the wind until it was just small flame slowly dying. Then I was there alone, and pondering what the new year would bring, hope or despair. I then slowly walked up the hill alone and hoping to rejoin the others in the merriment of the day, and regardless of what the future would hold, I would embrace the happiness and friendship around me for that day.  

To My Readers

Hi, everyone. Thanks for all the great feedback I've been getting. It's really encouraging, and love to read your input. If you want a response back, please give some contact info, such as an email address, so I may personally respond. Some of you have been kind enough to message me, but cannot respond back without the contact info.

Also, If anyone has any ideas as far as merchandise, please let me know. I am thinking about Nightwatch tees and other gear. Thanks again.

Until then, see you on the Nightwatch!


Will

Healthcare

Many people object to Obamacare in the latest quest to address the health insurance problem. The mandatory sign up is opposed by many, and my libertarian hackles got raised when I heard about it. But then I realized as a conservative one of my beliefs are personal responsibility. When you fail to get health insurance even if you can afford it and

Milestones

Milestones, the bench markers of our lives. As I get older, I realize the dreams and ambitions of my life rather silly and unrealistic. Grad and law schools I looked at and forgot how choosy they are, the dropout rate, and how expensive they can be. Being a senator and executive, I realize now, were never in the cards for me. But that was what I thought I could become and that what drove me through college.

Being in the rat race, an expensive home, the hour commute along a choked highway, and huge bills from keeping up with the Jones's all exert a price I was never willing to pay, and frankly have no sorrows about it anymore. Stress and debt are the results of so called "success."I live in a double wide trailer and commute less than a mile to work, and keep my bills in check. I live in a community where friends and relatives are nearby, low cost of living, access to bike trails and woods, and small towns with a growing arts community, and the feeling of bliss and satisfaction couldn't be greater.

Friends

I seen a Facebook page where a person had over 2,000 "friends" listed. In viral world, the term friend can be relative. In the cold universe of cyberspace and anonymity, people are looking for meaningful relationships, but perhaps don't know how to make them. The isolation of the internet perhaps creates a further desire of true community.

Friendships need cultivating like living things. It's hard and time consuming, but real relationships demand it. I just looked at my list of Facebook friends, and were friended when I briefly met years ago, and haven't been in contact since then.

As I get older, I treasure the older friendships I developed over the years, and regret how I took them for granted, and let the bonds slip away as time passed. Don't let your real friends become relegated to the cyberworld. Maybe it's time to pick up the phone and say hi.

Baseball: an Appreciation

Baseball: what a season. The Houston Astros, one of the last among the last teams of "Lovable Losers," won the World Series. I have been privileged to see the Boston Red Sox, Chicago White Sox, Chicago Cubs, and now Astros, finally win the trophy. Baseball: what other sport compares to it: the Fall Classic, best of seven wins, the bottom of the ninth of game seven. Will the starter be relieved, can the American League pitcher hit the ball, and no designated hitter in the National League town.

Now the Series is over, and an unofficial beginning of winter is here. What else can be said of baseball? The Boys of Summer by Roger Kahn, and the poem by A. Bartlet Giamatti of baseball breaking one's heart: how can anyone else do a better job describing baseball? The season ends as the winter chill of November's eve arrives, and reminding everyone of the months to come without the playing of ball. We have our memories, baseball cards, caps, and other memorabilia to sustain us until the warmth of spring comes with the aroma of hotdogs and peanuts, dawning the arrival of a new season when the umpire steps out to implore the players to "Play ball!"

The Me in Social Media

Social media revolves around ego, as well as the digital world in general. Facebook is about our accomplishments, likes, friends, and then ability to post whatever strikes our fancy: old flames, feuds, beefs, or whatever gripes we have. Seldom is it being thankful for something.

Every act of kindness, bravery, chivalry, and good behavior is recorded for the world to see, rather than handling matters quietly. Humility and seems to be a premium these days. The same for what were once intimate and private moments in reunions and engagements. Today when we see any trouble brew, all too often are instinct is to grab our cellphones and record instead of helping.

Andy Warhol famously exclaimed we will all get 15 minutes of fame. Little did I know how prescient he would be decades before social media. Then, it seemed he was making an Orwellian comment on technology. George Will lamented that the good thing about the internet is that it gives everyone a voice, and the bad thing about the internet is that it gives everyone a voice. Today, all someone needs is a camera, Twitter feed, or another social media account, and they become their own content publisher, free to comment and post on anything they want with very little accountability, other than blasted in a Twitter war. To turn back would require checking our egos to do so, and I'm afraid we're not ready to that, if ever.

The Joy Stealers

One day when driving, a car coming up behind me passed me after tailgating me awhile. It angered me for some reason, until I thought about it more. Why was I really mad? Was it pride in being passed for not traveling fast enough (what red blooded male wants to be passed when he thinks he's the fastest driver around?)

After stewing about it awhile, I thought about it more and realized  that what I should really be mad about is how I reacted, and letting it get to me. we come across issues like this throughout life; we get mad at things we shouldn't really get angry about, and it becomes a joy stealer, and ultimately affects our witness. Now I try to shake my head at them and laugh it off, and then pray for them (sometimes, unfortunately, but I'm working on it!).

The Cross

Walking along the Allegheny River, I stopped by my favorite spot. Dwelling on personal issues, I contemplated on what to do. As the river slowly flowed by around the eddy, I glanced up at the azure sky. Parallel to the land was a streak of a jet. Vertical to me was another streak of jet wash, with both forming a cross. I guess when you are looking or answers, you interpret things in any attempt for help or validation. Whatever was behind it, Providence or chance, I chose it to be a sign everything was going to be right in the end. Sometimes a cross is permanent and made of wood, sometime it can be a momentary and fleeting that disappears with no trace, like from the jets.



But it 's a symbol of something bigger and infinitely more lasting. The seasons can be like years of your life, and each season holding a special place in your memory. Life is akin to the seasons.

Some say it's more like a parlor trick; that you are looking for a sign and anything will suffice to satisfy my search. Perhaps it's true. Despite all that, I choose faith.
  

Autumn

As the leaves turn golden yellow, days sparser, and nights colder, I cannot help but think the turning of the season is like life as I turn 50. As the slow days of summer ends, time accelerates like life, and you wonder where time has gone. Life can be akin to the seasons,

As summer drags on like youth, time is still, but as the season changes, so does life. Enjoy it and grasp every day of life with as much appreciation as you can. And as summer ends, and you get older, you can't help but have a little sadness that in a wisp it is gone.

The Tire Pump Ministry

I found myself at an air pump of a local convenience store, and encountered some travelers looking for information. I was able to Google the question and provided it to them pertaining to an address. A month or so later, I came across a family trying to change a tire due to the valve stem bursting open when the man was pumping air. He was struggling to turn the lug nuts with the wrench, but couldn't budge them. I came along, and managed to loosen them by standing on the wrench arm, and continued to assist in the changing of the tire. I was happy that the family was not stranded and to be of help.

It was funny how I could help people at an air pump station, but everyone has a ministry. It may not be a cathedral with giant spires, television with millions of viewers, a fancy title, or recognition. There's another ministry out there in the shadows, in plain sight, with people in need. The area by the air pump has become a ministry of sort, and glad I was able to help. Remember to look out for people reaching out in the least likeliest places.