nobody asked…

The Center for Artificial Indifference

100 Years From Now…

One of the most important imprints made on a malleable young me was by Pop, my maternal grandfather. He had been a farmer, blacksmith, carpenter, builder, real estate investor, grocer, landlord, husband, father, and grandfather. And somewhere in the midst of all that he found time to go fishing … frequently. Several weeks each summer I stayed with Pop and Grandma and loved every minute of it. Pop was a kind, gentle, and patient man, who taught me how to use and take care of shop tools and equipment. And he took me fishing … frequently.

Pop would hitch up the boat trailer behind his pickup truck, grab the bait buckets he had prepared the day before, stop by the grocery where we would pick up some baloney sandwiches, cheese and crackers, and ice cold Cokes — the big King Size Cokes in the 10 oz. glass bottles — and off to the lake or river we would go. Sitting in a boat with Pop all day, I learned a lot. I learned that I didn’t really like fishing, but I loved being with Pop. He taught me things. And I learned things. Fishing was a masquerade, an excuse, a vehicle. He talked and I listened … and learned.

Pop had many wise things to say, and some maybe not so wise. Some, like his extreme superstitions, were just plain silly. But who was I to tell him that. He always had a way of putting things in perspective. When my mother would worry, or I would fret about something, Pop would typically try to defuse it by rhetorically asking, What difference will it make in 100 years?

Between Pop’s practical approach and Daddy’s laissez faire attitude, I like to think I turned out to be about as self-sufficient, non-intrusive, and laid back as a person can be in these turbulent and trying times. They taught me how to step back and view myself and my role in the larger picture, and how to take life as it comes at me, one day at a time, making changes for the better where I can, but never losing a firm grip on what is real, what is important. They taught me to live life meaningfully, but never to take myself too seriously. Even now, many years later, I am still struggling to live up to their examples and their teachings. And Mom is still worrying.

One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown
is the belief that one’s work is terribly important. – Bertrand Russell

11 Comments so far

  1. Outdoors Lifestyle January 3rd, 2008 9:28 pm

    … nobodyasked wrote an interesting post today on “100 Years From Now”. Here’s a quick excerpt [...]

    …Comment edited by Winston…

  2. twomartini January 3rd, 2008 10:35 pm

    Interesting post Winston. Very similar to my life experiences. But I do wonder if anyone will remember 100 years from now. And does it really matter?

  3. ...DELETED... January 3rd, 2008 10:36 pm

    …Comment deleted by Winston…

  4. MaryB January 4th, 2008 9:04 am

    A-men, Winston. Perspective is a gift, my friend. Happy New Year!

  5. Elsie January 4th, 2008 9:57 am

    Wonderful memories, Winston. I’d bet that your imprints upon your family are equally wonderful. Happy New Year to you and yours.

  6. Jean January 4th, 2008 11:12 am

    Now that’s a philosophy I like… and, need to work on.
    Thanks, Winston.

  7. Fishing Bait January 5th, 2008 12:30 am

    [...] 100 Years From Now… [...]

  8. gerry rosser January 5th, 2008 9:09 am

    I also learned by fishing with my forbears that I did not find it charming. The only piece of fishing equipment which interests me is called “menu.”

  9. Janie January 5th, 2008 12:31 pm

    This is an awesome piece. Thanks for writing it!!

  10. Kay Dennison January 6th, 2008 2:25 am

    I agree — perspective is everything but some times when things pile up, it’s hard to find. Excellent post!

  11. jackie January 6th, 2008 1:33 pm

    I always wanted to be one of those old sage grandmas…the thing I passed on was ‘if you beat about the bush, all you get is a beat up bush’…….
    from my fishing trips with my grandpa..I learned…’there are more horses asses than there are horses.’…