From Sunday's Times and News-Star
It’s been so cold this week, I saw a lawyer with his
hands in his OWN pockets.
But seriously, folks…it has been cold. And sometimes
warm. It’s almost like living in North Louisiana.
Maybe that’s why most
everyone I know has either been sick or has children that have been sick. Or
are sick. Sick is bad.Have you noticed that we seldom get the “pretty”
cold weather? We get a “wintery mix.” Sleet and ice and wind. I don’t like a
wintery mix. Too mixy.
But four months from now when it’s 95, we’ll be
wishing it were cooler. (I won’t.) We’re hardly ever satisfied anyway, so
perhaps God and the weather know what’s best.
It’s been a cold week in other ways. My friend
Russell’s mom, married to Russell’s dad for 58 years, passed away. I remember
helping Russell Hedges type his first Friday night football deadline story at
The Times 20 years ago. He and his mom and his dad have been through quite a
few football seasons together. I wish things were different; I wish they’d have
had a few more.
And Frank Page, the Dean of Shreveport Radio, the Chairman
of the (Radio) Board, passed away at age 87. If you’ve never read “Frank and
Helen Page: A Lifetime at KWKH,” written by Frank and his friend Max Short,
give it a try. What a gentleman. He signed his book for me this way: “Your
voice is not dipped in gold, but your pen is.” HA! A stretch by him, perhaps,
but coming from a Country Music Hall of Famer and husband to Helen of 68 years,
I’ll take it. An interesting coincidence that he died Jan. 9, one day after
Elvis birthday. The airwaves are a bit less rich with Mr. Frank silent. But I
still have him on tape, thank goodness. Introducing Elvis…
And Jim Montgomery. Writer. Actor. Friend to all.
Lover of beauty. Country man about town. I’ll have to write about him next
week, if I can get it all straight in my brain. Were it not for Mr. Jim, I
would have written zero columns in this newspaper, and that’s probably No. 28
on my list of “Reasons I Liked Him.” Beautiful person.
I wonder in the new year if I can be better about
being friends with people and telling them how much they’re thought of and
appreciated, people such as the ones we’ve talked of here. I read about a guy
who made it a point to write one “thank you” note a day. I’m good for maybe two
or three a week. Is that enough?
One
of my dearest friends had for years a needlepoint framed on the wall behind her
desk. “Bloom where you are planted,” it reminded us. She reminded us too, and
still does, even in her retirement. She lives on that advice and encourages us
to do the same.
But
it is easier to think about blooming “when things are different,” or when I’m
somewhere else, than it is to think about blooming today. It is easier to miss
the moment than to live in it. It’s easier to think about the sunshine than to
live in the wintery mix.
I’m
hopeful of living wiser so I can catch more of the authenticity in moments and in
people. You know, maybe learning that there are lessons in the ice as well as
in the sunshine. And accepting that some weeks, some days, it’s just going to
be cold. All over. No matter what.
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