Only Ballerinas should have to go around on tiptoes

There are those who spend their entire existence on this earth preparing for the afterlife, a mindset based on teachings and philosophies handed to them by their mentors. There are those who live for today and pay no attention to what may happen when the electrical impulses cease to keep them running. There are those who wish to achieve the best of each. There are those who walk on tiptoes for fear of rocking the boat allowing themselves to be controlled by others. This is the group which I wish to address for the others have a clear objective of what they wish to do with their lives and the tiptoe class has no true identity or the ability of achieving it for they have not the tools to do so.
As an adult one has the responsibility to teach the young through positive example and grounded philosophies. There is no such thing as perfection but there is the opportunity to learn by observing the actions of others, either directly or indirectly, and using those observations when necessary, based on the results, to do what one perceives will bring the greatest success. Life’s success is based on creating a self evaluating identity which can be referred to by using the term “Know Thyself”.

A generalization is that we are all human beings. A generalization is that we all have fingerprints. That is the limit of generalizations for we all have different traits and prints which makes us unique in our on way. So be it with the tiptoers, they all have the same observed characteristic but with specific idiosyncrasies which set them apart. The tiptoer will always say “yes dear” while one who knows themselves may offer a different perspective. As with the Ying and Yang the perfect match for the tiptoe is the dominator who accepts nothing more than complete allegiance without exception but not an area to be advanced at this time.

It takes a long period of time to become a tiptoer and so it is to be expected, if possible, the transition away from this line of thought is a difficult road which could take longer than it did to find one in this position.

If one finds satisfaction of having a tiptoe around to fulfill their desires than they are using and abusing their own potential to succeed in a rewarding way.

Life is what you want it to be so if it sucks look into the mirror and blame yourself not those around you.

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Dear Bud,

It is hard to believe but it was only three years ago that I made the trip to Nederland to be part of your 80th birthday celebration, It was so much fun to have the opportunity of meeting many of your family members whom I had only known of through your stories of family fun at gatherings some of whom I had met on earlier occasions who were no longer with us but only in spirit.

You had told me about the trips to Missouri and the family musical gatherings and the repair jobs that you and your brother had done while there and only wish I could remember the catchy company name you had come up with to represent your industrious prowess.  I remember helping you replace a mirror in the guest bathroom in your first house in Texas and how Mr. now it all, me, did not listen to what you told me to do and damaged the corner which now had to be replaced. As usual you did not show any anger or frustration toward your friend and then we were off the local home improvement stores to find a replacement before Bonnie got home from work. WE were unable to find an exact replacement but to me it looked so close that she would not notice the new mirror. NOT.  The first thing that she noticed was that it was different from the original and me being the still indoctrinated former Roman Catholic said that I was the guilty one.

That was the home where you opened the doors and welcomed your Aunt Helen who had aged to the point where there was no family remaining in Beverly and the two of you brought her to a sanctuary.  I also remember helping Bonnie set new plants in the front yard which was fun and rewarding. There was also the banana plant in the back yard in a corner next to the pool that if I remember corrects always caught a frost before it was able to produce any fruit on an annual basis.  Then there was the blooming of the Texas State Flower, Bluebonnet. They were all over the place and what a beautiful sight to see. There was one yard around the corner whose entire front yard was in bloom.  I think that the only negative in my mind was the constant sound of those darn birds which gathered all over the place sounding like they were constantly arguing with other. A grackle I believe. Well guess what, hey have followed me and every time I go to the local WalMart there is a huge roost of them in the live oaks.

I have been staying in trying in touch with your Bonnie and hope to make a visit sometime in November. 

Happy 83rd Bud but must let you know that I totally disagree with the fact that you found a way to stop aging but your spirit is with me every day and it always brings a smile to my face.

Bless you my friend

Danny

 

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Dear Bud
It has been again one of those typical mundane weeks except for a little excitement which I added to the job based on boredom and pushing some of the rules a bit but not enough to get myself in trouble but to uncover the incompetent who seek recognition at any cost. If we get enough time I will explain it later for if, as you know, I get off onto a tangent I will never remember where I was heading with my original intent of this conversation but know that you can always set me straight should be taken into consideration LOL.

Do you remember the time when we were going to start a business together, the type has been long forgotten by this guy, and you Walter, and I made arrangements to take different trains into Boston, hook up, and head to the BPL business location on Pi Ally next to the Old City Hall on School Street which I believe they currently call City Hall Avenue. I don’t think that I ever told you the story of joining the Sacred Heart School choir with the primary purpose of seeing more than just Lowell in an attempt to broaden the horizons of an inquisitive young mind. It was a cold December in 1958 and Father Randall had made arrangements for us to sing Christmas Carols at the annual lighting of the Boston Christmas Tree, something the current political arena would not permit for fear of insulting those who are not Christian. You know how I feel about that and a tangent I will not head.

Pi Ally was one of those hide away places which no one can be exactly sure how it got its name but the two primary suspicions are that a newspaper printed there, Boston Herald, would dump their used type set pi out the back door or that you could get a piece of pie and a coffee for five cents. I prefer the later.

We met at the old North Station, now long since demolished, with you coming in on the commuter rail from Beverly with Walter and I from Haverhill. Any way we headed to the BPL Business branch. I have been trying to think of what the proposed business was and hoping that you could help me and sure enough you have and it had to do with the internet, you know that system that Al Gore invented LOL. You had an AT&T computer at home and always ahead of the learning curve on this new frontier. Damn if we had followed up who knows where we could have ended up. Your spirit of inquisitiveness has never changed. Your mind never aged.

Well as you remember our meeting was during a period of recuperation for you as it was only a few months earlier that you had a serious heart episode which ended up with you being hospitalized. I remember the hospital room but the exact facility escapes me and my primary choice is Beverly Hospital. Bonnie was sitting with you and excused herself, after a hug, when I showed up, and it did not take long for me to discover why. You had a porta potty chair next to the bed and just used it and the absence of an air freshener nearly killed me, never mentioned it but it was true friendship that kept me sitting there. I remember you saying “what are you doing here’ and I in my own bust your chops way said that Bonnie was one of a kind and if you were going to croak I was going to be first in line to make sure no one else got the opportunity to court her but of course I would not move in too quickly. That’s when I discovered that you were listening to me. She has truly been your gift from the Lord.

No getting back to the story. We had pretty much gotten all of the info we needed and were heading back to the North Station can traversing City Hall Plaza when you tripped and banged you head on one of the steps, there was no obvious serious injury other than a small bump and with you saying that you were ok we decided to have a beer at a small brewery near the station to make sure you were ok before you headed back to Beverly. Well as fate would have it the lump got much bigger so I asked for a bag with some ice and towel to get the swelling down. It took the swelling a bit longer to go down and what did Walter and I do in the meantime but have a few beers. You said you were ok and not without some guilt we put you on the train to head home but not without a note with your name and station stop on a post it on your pocket which you, I am sure removed as soon as you got on the train, for Bonnie never mentioned the note. I must admit that I pushed my sense of humor a bit too far that day and as you know apologized on more than one occasion.

Well that is it for now, miss you, and look forward to catching up with you one of these days.

DanO

 

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Dear Bud,

It has been the typical Florida July but the heat really got to me and I had to call out on Tuesday and book out early on Thursday. Was hoping to speak with you this week but it did not just come about. I was looking at your Facebook page and it reminded me of a few small stories of when you had family come for a visit and you brought them to Boston for one of the infamous Doyle tours on my lunch hour when I worked for the Sectary of The Commonwealth in the Corporations Division.

Your Brother Art was in town and due to our conflicting schedules’ I was unable to visit with him at your house and in your own special was wanted him to meet your gumba, ya I had to look up the word to get the correct spelling. We made arrangements and the two of you made the train trip in. I always thought that it was my expert tour narration talents which inspired you to bring your family in never realizing that they probably knew more about Boston than I and it was your friendship with me which you wanted to share.

When Art visited we were able to view “The Charles” from the conference room at One Ashburton Place, for as luck would have it there was no meeting going on. We roamed Beacon Hill for an hour and when my time expired it was back to my desk and you guys back to Beverly. I remember asking you why Art had all of the height and I think that I teased you about being aged and that you had shrunk over the years. If you remember I stopped that teasing after I got into my 60s. There was one outstanding trait other than a welcoming personality and it was that capricious look which you both shared, the Burke Glow which I have called it for many years.

The other visitor was a sister, Carole, whom you had told me about who lived in California who had been a school teacher her entire life and was doing so in Monterey. You had mentioned that she was the totally independent one of the family and a free spirit as I interpreted from your stories. She reminded me somewhat of my daughter whose intelligence level exceeded most and definitely not inherited from me but her mother. Knowing before actually meeting her brings me onto a tangent and am hoping that I do not go too far with this one that I forget where I was originally heading.

I put this one under the Doyle’s Small World Category. I was visiting my cousin Tom out in Moraga, a town east of San Francisco and a unique community which I loved to visit, he was off for that morning with a friend who became his wife. He had given me the keys to one of his seven cars, ya remember he was the rich cousin, and rather than driving to Orinda for a scone and strong coffee I decided to visit another bakery not too far away in a strip shopping center. The unique thing about this place is how each weekend people would line up cars they had for sale along the front of the parking lot which boarded the road heading to Lafayette. Tom had introduced me to this place with a few outside tables where one could read the daily and enjoy the beautiful early morning weather. When I arrived, there was a lady reading the paper and after I got my super scone and coffee I headed to one of the tables and she was still there. In my relentless pursuit for conversation she finally relented and spoke with more than the yes, no she was sharing. She seemed very bitter and I discovered that she had had it with men who used and I totally agreed with her and did not blame her for her feelings after a story she had shared. Putting that aside I discovered that she had been a teacher abroad, Iran to be exact, and was told that the regime had used her photo in propaganda material there considering her as an infidel from the states. This prior to the government taking many into custody during the Carter administration as you well remember for your sister was a teacher there before all hell broke loose. I mentioned your sister’s name and she knew her, sometimes a good memory comes in handy when meeting people. Later that day when Tom and Jeannie were back they asked me what I had done and I told them the story and mentioned that the lady’s last name was Rideout. Jeannie looked at me, with surprise, and told me that I had had coffee with her lawyer who represented her with a divorce. Damn two for one that day.

Well anyway back to her visit which we started at the usual place, the empty conference room. You had told me that she could be somewhat aloof but I figured that my charming personality could conquer all, joke. I did my utmost best to get a reaction to a few little-known facts which I had learned about some of the residences but only got an occasional “really” and at that point I will not forget the look on your face when I asked her if I should stop for she appeared to be bored and I did not want to ruin her day. Ya a risky comment but truthful and feel that she appreciated it an allowed me to continue with an improved level of interest from her.

Till the next time brother keep those banjo strings moving along with your friend Dave Murphy and his washtub base.

Love you my Buddy.

 

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Dear Bud

As I sit here on this typical hot Florida summer day a memory comes to this old mind of a trip which you, Bonnie, and I took to a Bluegrass festival in New York state.  Now you must forgive me if I am not exact on the dates but as always you will take a shot at how old I am getting and catching up with you.

Up to the point of our adventure you, in your own capricious way, had been making valiant attempts to introduce me to the string instrument world which had started some years earlier with the Mandolin on a few afternoons when you were living in Beverly.  Your patience with me was unfailing but I was a hopeless case but as always you never gave up on me.

It is now over twenty years ago that you asked if I would like to join you all for a weekend at the now called Grey Fox festival. I had no idea what to expect but knew that being with Bonnie and yourself was something I always looked forward to for you guys adopted me into your family with open arms. I was a bit bothered at the fact that I would have to call in sick at work to get some time for the remnants of a Roman Catholic conscience brought on a sense of guilt but knowing that I was going to be in the good hands of a devout Methodist quelled my concerns.

I was living in Lowell which I knew was out of the way but you said that I would be a passenger and would pick me up on what was a beautiful blue skied summer day without a cloud to be seen.  I was a horrendous house keeper and nearly died when Bonnie asked to use the bath room. A feeling of horror ran through my body as I said yes but as always when she came to the car she did not make even the slightest comment other this saying “let’s do this”.  We were, for economic reasons, going to share a room in a Pine Plains B&B.  The beginnings were somewhat mundane as we too 495 to the Mass Pike and headed to a town made famous by Norman Rockwell, Stockbridge.  A place I had never been nor probably never would have but for you both. As we drove through Great Barrington we past a large estate surrounded by a tall granite walls with the name Searles etched into a large stone block near the entrance gate. It mimicked an estate by the same name in Methuen, MA and sure enough built by the same person. Typical bit of a tangent my friend but then again this does not surprise you for I can see your tolerant smile as I relay this story.

It was not long after that me crossed into the fine state of New York passing by the road track in Lime Rock whose most notable driver personality was Paul Newman. I made a mental note that it would be a trip for another time but at this stage in my life it is only a fleeting thought of the time.

I had no idea what our temporary home away from home would be like and was totally taken by surprise as we drove up the driveway toward a beautiful wooded mansion with it guest portico to protect guests from foul weather.  As we were greeted and given a brief tour of the first floor my eyes were wide with amazement for it was similar to a film in which Christopher Reeves stepped into the past. Everything represented a time long gone, Bonnie had chosen a time capsule, a unique experience in the present hustle and bustle time. Then again why am I rambling on for you also saw the burled walnut furniture, the horsehair stuffed furniture, and the side room with its built-in glass doored legal library. Remember the owner telling us that the original owner was a lawyer for the Rail Road, must have been the biggest house in town. Then the story of how the hose was haunted, damn that’s all we needed, scary sounds in the night.
The hostess must have liked us for she set me up in a small room which overlooked the portico at no extra charge, I think that it was originally a nursery for it adjoined your room through a small passage way. As Bonnie settled in you and I, as usual, did a little exploring. There was the huge tree which was a natural umbrella when we found a small breach in the foliage and upon entering found ourselves in a quiet space and the old cemetery.

We piled into the car to head for the reason for this sojourn, off to Grey Fox.  I had no idea as to why you were bringing the banjo but then again, I was dealing with my neophyte mind.  The grounds were pretty much camouflaged with its non-descript entrance and then there was a burst of people and energy in front of us. This thing was huge and all you did was smile at my amazement and knew that your grin was of satisfaction and a mentor teaching a rookie. Do you mind if I reach out and give you a hug my friend? There were tons of people sampling and groups getting together playing music everywhere. Know I know why you brought your stringed instrument for you were going to start jamming then there was the whooshing sound when the car door opened and you sped toward the nearest group with your always present positive attitude and desire to join in.

Do you remember when Bonnie and yourself wanted to roam and I volunteered to host the banjo and sat on a tarp next to the workshop area?  Man, that case was a chick magnet and I thought to myself, back to the Mandolin lessons, for this could lead to something big. LOL.  When you guys returned I was sitting with a guy whom I shared some family stories and introduced you guys to him as Jerry Douglas. At that point, he said that he had a few things to do and made his apologies before leaving. You shook your head for my naiveté was overwhelming I was conversing with the greatest Dobro player in the world and talked nothing about music.

I could go on and on with this one story alone from the use of script to make purchases to the incredible assortment of artists.
My brother, my mentor I love you.

MY MENTOR

Today, June 29, 2017, I lost a friend, buddy, brother in spirit , and a true mentor. Kenneth Burke was born in Salem, Massachusetts on August 27, 1934 and touched oh so many till he took his last breath at 4:15 near his home in Netherlander, Texas.

He was , without a doubt, the most positive person I have ever met in my 70 years, this being one of the many gifts he shared with those who grew to know and love him. He always approached with a warm hand shake or hug and that always present smile. Truly a person one could never forget.

We shared many adventures together , stories which will be expanded on at another time, which range from the thoughts of a business venture to walking around the granite quarry near his home in Rockport . His spirit was one of a person many years younger than his physical age which the love of his life , Bonnie, had to occasionally keep in tow. When I told him that Laura and I were to marry he bestowed upon me his simple philosophy of having a long and happy marriage, two simple words ‘Yes Dear’. Those who intimately know him realize that he learned that later in life.

He had an over abundance of patience with this guy , his junior by 12 years. He knew my faults and what was best for me with the perspective of a loving brother . He watched over me from a distance and showed me what I did not see in myself. There were many things but the most significant was to reopen my eyes to the omnipresence of the Lord. He had a gentle approach which came to fruition when I became a member of the First Methodist Church in Lakeland , Florida.

 

I guess that I could on and on, and the same from many others,but will with a tear in my eye I will stop for now and wish your soul great travels to your heavenly home.

Love you my friend