Today I just looked around and just accepted the fact that I am in a “fed up” mood. And that’s how I’m going about this day. So far it’s not been too bad; I actually thought about a task that I had been putting off and decided to just stick my hands right in the mess of papers and do “something’. It’s always good to set your goal at ‘something’ because it’s really, really flexible.
Unfortunately, my efforts are now evidenced by stacks of half-sorted correspondence and “Oh, so that’s where I put those instructions” type of stuff. I don’t mind; I know how to step over clutter. There is the benefit of having a full trash bag as well . . . now to haul it out – but that means two woodpile exercise trips.
I’ll probably be back, whining about something else.
About a quarter past one in the afternoon.
A prominent man was eulogized today, and perhaps right now they’re filling the grave. He was the real article when it comes to nice people and was gifted with abounding energy. Don Moore worked hard for his family, his friends and his community, and, quite frankly, I don’t think he considered it work. I interviewed him a couple of times, but I’ve lost the notes from the more personal of the two. I think they got frozen on the hard drive of my old Apple PowerBook 100 – one of the first really portable laptops.
But I remember. I suppose if this were Ohio when I was writing there, it would be a safe bet I would have been tapped to write a memorial. I’ve thought about those types of articles in the past few days, my memory having been jogged by this week’s happening.
You stare at a blank screen and you start writing and somewhere in there you will happen on a phrase that will stick with readers; if you are lucky, you may draw close to the essence of the person and trigger wordless memories in those who knew him.
In this case, there would have been so much to say about Don Moore; I’m sure it was said today. There is one detail he mentioned while talking with me – a detail about the loan he took to buy the radio station. He borrowed money from his mother . . . and he paid her back. He just added that last bit in passing, but with a truly proud look on his face.
I think Don might have said about a lot of his doings that it was in his genes – his energy, his need to be moving and doing something. He was happy to do so much for so many, but I think he might have been a bit self-conscious about taking credit for being such a good man. And he might have said it was in his genes to be a decent man, but I think he realized that in paying his mother back he had done the most decent of things and had shown her she had indeed raised . . . a very good man.
Perhaps your “fed up” mood correlates with the death of Mr. Moore. A good man taken while so many not so good men continue to go on? I don’t know, but I do agree that some days we should just decide we are “fed up” and do something else until we can tackle whatever we are “fed up” with. Happy, happy, happy all the time isn’t easy (unless you’re my husband).