That transfer from ladder to whatever the destination surface is, and back again, has long terrified me. As I've said many times, I'm not afraid of heights, I'm afraid of falling. I admire your courage and willingness to weigh the tradeoffs between risks and rewards.
I found out recently that a local friend passed away in January. He worked doggedly until he hit whatever age or 401K threshold he had identified as right for retirement. I don't think he lasted a year. Broke my heart.
It is the fall not the height, isn't it? I never think of it that way, the result not the action.
There are quite a few folks in my circle here who are working far into their 70s, and yes, hard at it! Some of the mattresses I thiink must be lumpy and so why not stop and enjoy a bit? Hard to say and who am I to judge, but it was another good example to me of the whole life is short thing. And flying by ever faster! Thank you Elizabeth!
Yes ... wobbly ladders and untimely departures are all part of the tightrope we walk through life, in each our own ways. Successfully accomplishing a task involving a degree of risk adds spice to the stew of existence, delivering an artery-clearing blast of adrenaline that reminds us we really are alive after all -- not mere passengers riding the figurative mule as it plods the well-worn path from Monday through Friday. Embracing that is satisfying in a way few things are, but there are degrees of risk. I accepted and embrace a lot more risk forty years ago than I will now, when the penalty for an untimely or particularly awkward fall can be much more harsh. I don't want to spend whatever time is left in a wheelchair... or worse.
Your friend left too soon, but at least he still had an adventure on tap that he was looking forward to. It's very sad that he didn't get to make that last trip, but at least he didn't exit while staring at a rest-home TV burdened by the knowledge that there really were no adventures left.
I'm behind on your part I and II---from your tales you did balance the risk and the rewards for certain. I absolutely am much more careful up there than I would have been 40 years ago when we snapped our skis on to get back to the office after a few cocktails because the moon was full and we hadn't realized the sun had set...
Very nice Cheffing-chat spice-is-nice word work here. May I always be able to choose my final home or, I agree, while the quick exit is hard for those left behind, it may not be a bad alternative if you lived and did what you said you should could would do---and, yes, kept going until you didn't. I think it's a damned good solution. Probably that little cabin in the woods? Friends and I say we'll take care of each other in rocking chairs on some big porch somewhere.....
Sailing....or closer, anyway.......Thank you as always. Much appreciated. ~J
I spent many of my working hours atop ladders, especially on sitcoms — 8, 10, 12, and 14 step “A” ladders — hanging, powering, and adjusting movie lamps. I tried not to work from the top step, but often there was no choice. A good sense of balance is crucial … and towards the end, my balance began to falter. I just didn’t feel as secure up there as I used to, which is one reason I retired when I did … better to go a day too soon than a day too late.
But that was nothing compared to working high up on a tall, thin mast on a rocking, rolling sailboat. That’s got to be a serious adrenaline blast…
This is delightful enough for me to read it twice this evening-- thank you! If you write and document does what you do pass on, then? Or only in certain circumstance? At my friend's service, I wondered how many will gather to honor me...should I choose to let them.
It is delightful. Coincidentally (though it's convenient to believe there aren't any when synchronicity is on display), this week, I've written about what we pass along. I think documentation helps, but in the end, I feel like our legacies are what those left behind want to make of them.
You should choose to let them, if they want to. :)
No such thing as coincidence, IMHO. Ah, the legacies!! I'm hoping Ruv checks back in--~Thanks Elizabeth. I met a big fan of yours last weekend at the service, actually. Not sure what her subscriber name is...Penelope of Oxford.
Oh, so sorry JA. I think you have written about John before, too? My sincere condolences. Losing loved ones seems to be a thing of late. It's beginning to get tiring, frankly, to me, too. Take care dear amiga. PS love your website! and congrats on all those lovely books!!!!
Goodness, yes, another downer of the whole aging process, I suppose. Thanks for the empathy, and you have mine. We know how hard it is to find true friends, the quick and easy ones even harder..... ~J
From the man who took apart an airplane, crated it and put it back together on the other side of the world? The man who has crossed borders most folks have never heard of? Lived in countries most folks can't find on a map? Driven on roads that aren't really roads? Without the proper documentation? Lived through car-jackings and big spiders? You are my role model and the king of it all. ~J
I think I replied to this already but it was sucked into Substack central, a dangerous place indeed.
It certainly helps to be young, dumb, and daring for at least part of a lifetime. Soon enough, we all start to worry about the punctuality of our bowels, falling and and not getting up, going to bed at 8:00 pm and getting up at 4:00 am, fretting about our prune juice schedule, forgetting where we left our teeth and our glasses, and not able to smell the urine stench caused by our half bald, wall-eyed, deaf and/or blind, mostly incontinent, ugly little chihuahua or shihtzu dog.
So it's oblivion instead of risk? I don't picture that dog in your Jeep.....and I always wake up at 4am to edit what I wrote at 8pm and scheduled for publication because all the best ideas/edits/brilliance/wit come to me after said bowel movement.
So beautifully written with truth. Live for today. Thanks for the reminder. Headed to that special place we shared in about a week. Keep up the good work and saying the good word. Hug through the Internet.
Another birthday on the Grand, my friend? Good timing for certain. Thanks for weighing in on this one, you are one of the people I think of when I consider life balance and ABSOLUTELY making time for what you love and what is important. You are a model. Enjoy every minute. I'm sorry we couldn't swing '27. Cheers to you Spike. ~J
I miss him coming by. We became good friends very quickly. Not common these days. Huge loss of a very good man. Scaffolding well that is another story in its self.
It's a complicated thing, isn't it? And a gap in our boatyard life this spring. And yes, I guess we've been here long enough to call it our boatyard. I'll have to check with the manager on that....and as you know he's always reading along.... ~J
Such a VERY nice tribute to John. THANK YOU for this and THANK YOU -- both -- again for your kind help yesterday. I didn't hear of it from him but I know that he'd loved and cherished you both dearly for having the steadfastness that you both so obviously have.
The whole 'love of boats' thing really does draw strong characters together and while he was elusive at first, we warmed shortly thereafter and always looked forward to his frequent visits-- a regular part of our day, and truly missed. The fact that he chose us to connect with is a wonderful thing. And you're very welcome. ~J
That transfer from ladder to whatever the destination surface is, and back again, has long terrified me. As I've said many times, I'm not afraid of heights, I'm afraid of falling. I admire your courage and willingness to weigh the tradeoffs between risks and rewards.
I found out recently that a local friend passed away in January. He worked doggedly until he hit whatever age or 401K threshold he had identified as right for retirement. I don't think he lasted a year. Broke my heart.
This one strikes many chords, Janice. Phew!
It is the fall not the height, isn't it? I never think of it that way, the result not the action.
There are quite a few folks in my circle here who are working far into their 70s, and yes, hard at it! Some of the mattresses I thiink must be lumpy and so why not stop and enjoy a bit? Hard to say and who am I to judge, but it was another good example to me of the whole life is short thing. And flying by ever faster! Thank you Elizabeth!
Yes ... wobbly ladders and untimely departures are all part of the tightrope we walk through life, in each our own ways. Successfully accomplishing a task involving a degree of risk adds spice to the stew of existence, delivering an artery-clearing blast of adrenaline that reminds us we really are alive after all -- not mere passengers riding the figurative mule as it plods the well-worn path from Monday through Friday. Embracing that is satisfying in a way few things are, but there are degrees of risk. I accepted and embrace a lot more risk forty years ago than I will now, when the penalty for an untimely or particularly awkward fall can be much more harsh. I don't want to spend whatever time is left in a wheelchair... or worse.
Your friend left too soon, but at least he still had an adventure on tap that he was looking forward to. It's very sad that he didn't get to make that last trip, but at least he didn't exit while staring at a rest-home TV burdened by the knowledge that there really were no adventures left.
Sail on...
I'm behind on your part I and II---from your tales you did balance the risk and the rewards for certain. I absolutely am much more careful up there than I would have been 40 years ago when we snapped our skis on to get back to the office after a few cocktails because the moon was full and we hadn't realized the sun had set...
Very nice Cheffing-chat spice-is-nice word work here. May I always be able to choose my final home or, I agree, while the quick exit is hard for those left behind, it may not be a bad alternative if you lived and did what you said you should could would do---and, yes, kept going until you didn't. I think it's a damned good solution. Probably that little cabin in the woods? Friends and I say we'll take care of each other in rocking chairs on some big porch somewhere.....
Sailing....or closer, anyway.......Thank you as always. Much appreciated. ~J
I spent many of my working hours atop ladders, especially on sitcoms — 8, 10, 12, and 14 step “A” ladders — hanging, powering, and adjusting movie lamps. I tried not to work from the top step, but often there was no choice. A good sense of balance is crucial … and towards the end, my balance began to falter. I just didn’t feel as secure up there as I used to, which is one reason I retired when I did … better to go a day too soon than a day too late.
But that was nothing compared to working high up on a tall, thin mast on a rocking, rolling sailboat. That’s got to be a serious adrenaline blast…
It's tiring to have to constantly think about not falling! What a career you had. One I never considered.
The photos I've taken from the top of the mast will blow your mind. I'll have to revisit that when we re-rig we'll be up there. ~J
Nature is a mother only as a crocodile is a mother.
She abandons her children and the wild offers no retirement homes.
In the end, how we feel dies with us.
What we did, and how, lives on in those we did it for.
This is delightful enough for me to read it twice this evening-- thank you! If you write and document does what you do pass on, then? Or only in certain circumstance? At my friend's service, I wondered how many will gather to honor me...should I choose to let them.
It is delightful. Coincidentally (though it's convenient to believe there aren't any when synchronicity is on display), this week, I've written about what we pass along. I think documentation helps, but in the end, I feel like our legacies are what those left behind want to make of them.
You should choose to let them, if they want to. :)
No such thing as coincidence, IMHO. Ah, the legacies!! I'm hoping Ruv checks back in--~Thanks Elizabeth. I met a big fan of yours last weekend at the service, actually. Not sure what her subscriber name is...Penelope of Oxford.
Fascinating. I'm not sure who that is, but you've got my curiosity going. ☺️
Oh, so sorry JA. I think you have written about John before, too? My sincere condolences. Losing loved ones seems to be a thing of late. It's beginning to get tiring, frankly, to me, too. Take care dear amiga. PS love your website! and congrats on all those lovely books!!!!
Goodness, yes, another downer of the whole aging process, I suppose. Thanks for the empathy, and you have mine. We know how hard it is to find true friends, the quick and easy ones even harder..... ~J
Risk? Bah! It’s way overrated.
From the man who took apart an airplane, crated it and put it back together on the other side of the world? The man who has crossed borders most folks have never heard of? Lived in countries most folks can't find on a map? Driven on roads that aren't really roads? Without the proper documentation? Lived through car-jackings and big spiders? You are my role model and the king of it all. ~J
I think I replied to this already but it was sucked into Substack central, a dangerous place indeed.
It certainly helps to be young, dumb, and daring for at least part of a lifetime. Soon enough, we all start to worry about the punctuality of our bowels, falling and and not getting up, going to bed at 8:00 pm and getting up at 4:00 am, fretting about our prune juice schedule, forgetting where we left our teeth and our glasses, and not able to smell the urine stench caused by our half bald, wall-eyed, deaf and/or blind, mostly incontinent, ugly little chihuahua or shihtzu dog.
So it's oblivion instead of risk? I don't picture that dog in your Jeep.....and I always wake up at 4am to edit what I wrote at 8pm and scheduled for publication because all the best ideas/edits/brilliance/wit come to me after said bowel movement.
I approve “painting Kit”! 🥰
Might as well enjoy all the tasks we have, right Betty? Sounds like life is treating you wonderfully and I'm so glad we connected. Thank you. ~J
A wonderful reminder for me this morning.
You're welcome, then, Sailor. We all need them. ~J
So beautifully written with truth. Live for today. Thanks for the reminder. Headed to that special place we shared in about a week. Keep up the good work and saying the good word. Hug through the Internet.
Another birthday on the Grand, my friend? Good timing for certain. Thanks for weighing in on this one, you are one of the people I think of when I consider life balance and ABSOLUTELY making time for what you love and what is important. You are a model. Enjoy every minute. I'm sorry we couldn't swing '27. Cheers to you Spike. ~J
I miss him coming by. We became good friends very quickly. Not common these days. Huge loss of a very good man. Scaffolding well that is another story in its self.
It's a complicated thing, isn't it? And a gap in our boatyard life this spring. And yes, I guess we've been here long enough to call it our boatyard. I'll have to check with the manager on that....and as you know he's always reading along.... ~J
Such a VERY nice tribute to John. THANK YOU for this and THANK YOU -- both -- again for your kind help yesterday. I didn't hear of it from him but I know that he'd loved and cherished you both dearly for having the steadfastness that you both so obviously have.
The whole 'love of boats' thing really does draw strong characters together and while he was elusive at first, we warmed shortly thereafter and always looked forward to his frequent visits-- a regular part of our day, and truly missed. The fact that he chose us to connect with is a wonderful thing. And you're very welcome. ~J
Such a poignant story.
Grasp the nettle while we can...
YES! Both hands! Enjoy everything you can through all of the Looking Glasses!! Thanks Prue! J