The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

I call my old man every day who just turned 97, about 40 years since his date of retirement at 57, to check in, see how he’s doing. When I ask him what he did today, he invariably says Nothin. He reads a little, watches some news, naps, takes his daily mile walk, makes himself meals and watches movies at night. It’s enough for him, no complaints, no depression and no whining. Life is what it is and he’s not a man with regrets and he’s not someone in search of ‘meaning’. Those who say an unexamined life isn’t worth living haven’t met my old man. Those who say that, you ask me, are full of shit. And I’m one of those who does examine life. I just don’t think it raises me to some higher spiritual plane — if anything, it just overly complicates things.

Today he asked me, as always, what I did today. ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘pretty busy. Pretty important stuff.’ He perks up, never really remembering I pull this on him half the time. ‘What’s up?’ he asked, ‘you working on that new glass project?’

‘No, no,’ I reply. ‘That’ll wait.’ He’s talking about a mural I’m supposed to be designing for a Washington Art Commission 1% project. ‘No’, I told him, ‘I was building a scarecrow for the garden.’ This flummoxes him, like usual. ‘What for?’ he wants to know. I say ‘I don’t know. Something to do. The garden needed a watchman maybe. Liven the place up if nothing else.’

My father and I share pieces of our world every day — as does my brother who lives near him. We all 3 look at it differently, maybe everyone does. But what we have in common is that this is what it is. If there’s something More, fine, write back when you find it. But this is plenty. Personally I suspect folks would be happier if they made a scarecrow once in awhile and let the philosophers decipher the rest.

Hits: 28