Grumpa Joe's Place

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Hold on to your seat. I am still alive and mentally aware. This post is a necessary alert to my readers who have not heard from me in several months. I needed a long rest from writing blog posts. The rest was welcome, although it is easy to fall into the habit of ignoring Grumpajoesplace Blog.

I have been busy editing my latest attempt at telling a tall tale. I started writing a story in 2014 and will finally be sending queries to agents in the hopes of a miracle. The book is titled Scooter and Bonnie: Space Rods. Look for it at your favorite bookstore. That is, if it ever gets published. The way I figure it, I won’t get to sell it from this side of the grave.

In other news, I’m tired of grieving. I expected my brother to leave since he was ninety-four. The surprises were my daughter, 63, and my sister, 86. Now that my list of relatives has diminished and I remain at the peak of the ancestry pyramid, my grief curve should trend downward.

Since I adopted Clint Eastwood’s philosophy, “Don’t let the old man in,” I’m learning that it is much easier to say than to live up to. My legs are definitely giving up without constant exercise. I asked my doctor what I can do to make walking easier, he said, “Walk.” There was a time when I was only four score that I walked several miles a day. These days, I barely make it around the block. I’ve replaced walking with sitting, and now my butt hurts along with everything else. My intake of alcoholic beverages has increased, but still not to the level of getting a noticeable high. To me, that is a sign that I have room to drink more.

The news we get about the war in Iran is depressing. I can remember reading about the overthrow of the Shah in the 1970’s. Most of the news concerned how well the Shah had adapted Iranian society to Western ways. The new guy never impressed me with his ability to lead a modern country. Turns out I was right. The simple fact is that our Constitution is in direct opposition to the ways of Islam. A true believer in Islam violates the freedom of religion, the right to free speech, and fair trials. Since we believe women are also covered by the Constitution their rights become nil in the Islamic system.

One of the terrible things they want to force on us is Sharia Law. Never will I allow them to replace our system of laws with Sharia. To me, Sharia is primitive and Barbaric.

Muslims believe that Christians worship multiple gods, while they believe in one true God. Their feeble minds cannot accept the concept of three persons in one God. Truth be told, neither can I, but I accept it on faith. Here in Frankfort, IL, where I live, there are many Muslims, and we also have a mosque. Some of the neighboring suburbs are loaded with Muslims, and one can identify the neighborhood by trying to read the business signs. Another tip is the word “halal” used to identify meat products. The best I can decipher is that halal is similar to the Jewish word for kosher.

The Muslim population in the US is growing rapidly. As they increase in number, so will our societal problems. Most of the Muslims that I know personally are nice people, but their religion, customs, and practices frighten me. It will take a change to the Constitution to make me comfortable around them. They are hypocrites of the nth degree, but as long as they remain in their communities, I’m okay with them.

If we ever get to the point of revising the Constitution to allow Muslims to live here peacefully, I would also include language that limits the number of them who can live here, and also make them sign a pledge to live by our laws. There shall be no slaughter of children for dishonoring a lunatic father who has been brainwashed to believe that all things Muslim are the only way to live.

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Why do we ignore friends, sometimes for years, and then go out of our way to attend their wake? I don’t know how you feel about this topic, but I get myself into a tizzy over missing a wake. Over the years, wakes have caused me extreme anxiety. I found that missing the wake of an associate, acquaintance, co-worker, friend, sibling, or life partner depends on how close the individual is to me. By close, I mean genetically. Of course, there is a second level of closeness that involves distance or social association.

As I approach my own wake, my attitude is shifting. I never thought of missing a wake when I was more physically robust. Now, as my physicality diminishes, I am no longer bothered by not attending. Really, what can I do for the person involved? Most of the time, I don’t know anyone there, and the only guy I know is in the coffin. I pass by him, say a prayer, thank him for being my friend, and keep moving. Sometimes I will introduce myself to the widow and tell her how I knew her husband.

When it is all done, I look for friends I know to catch up with them and learn about their lives. Finally, I retreat and go home feeling good about giving the dead person a farewell. Did the deceased have a better outcome by my visit? I will not have a clue until I reach him after my own journey to the afterlife. At best, attending a wake at which the only one I know rests in the casket or an urn might make a difference to the widow or children of the deceased.

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Today I did something that I rarely, if ever, do. I was reviewing my BLOG and noticed that someone had clicked on a link to a bike ride I took with my deceased friend, Lou Dini. A neuron in my brain fired, saying, “Follow the link.” I did, and I spent an hour reading two articles I posted on Grumpajoesplace. It is a gloomy, grey, cold February day, so re-reading a story about a trip I took during the turn of the century seemed like a worthy thing to do.

I took the trip with longtime friend, Lou Dini from Panduit, whom I met in 1968. He and I rode bicycles for exercise and eventually graduated to taking adventure tours together. We had often discussed Nova Scotia as a worthy adventure. Why? Neither of us could answer that question sensibly. “It sounds like fun” was the best answer we could conjure.

The link I mentioned above was to atlanticcanadacycling. Out of curiosity, I followed the link to see what it was about. It is the site I used to register for a supported tour of Nova Scotia, Canada. On this website, there are several rider endorsements, including mine. Lou and I wrote detailed accounts of our experiences. Lou’s is titled “Nova Scotia,” and mine is “Nova Scotia, My Side of the Story.” It surprised me to learn that my account is the one that Atlantic Canada Cycling decided to feature. I am more excited because that makes me a published writer.

Reading both accounts has left me in a state of melancholy because Lou is on a heavenly adventure, while I am stuck on planet Earth. My riding days are over; I am sorry to say that I sold my recumbent bike. There have been too many instances when I wished I still had the bike to ride again. Just recently, I envisioned taking a solo ride around the Great Lakes. Wouldn’t that be an adventure?

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