It's Not About You, Tom
It was earlier predawn than I thought upon arising an hour ago, had gotten up once to speak to Father Nature, back down and beautifully to sleep. Waking an hour or two later, I knew “this is it” so gave up the warm snuggle against and got up. Clock on Linda’s side of the bed: 1:38. What? This is what I get for going along with changing between CDT and CST twice a year. The one time I truly appreciated it was that extra hour in my cot Sunday morning, October 27, 1957 at Navy OCS, Newport, Rhode Island. That was the first morning of the rest of my life, and for years I loved being in the Navy.
Lucy Peters, Linda’s mother, was a gifted artist who worked in many media, including portrait painting. She painted this portrait of me at age 22, which she titled “The New Ensign.”
Lucy displayed it for years in art shows all over the South, and it gained her many portrait-painting commissions until she finally gave it to me. At 2308 I kept it modestly upstairs but there being no room for it at our new place as we clear out, it’s stored at Malinda’s house.
After posting selfies of the TumblingFool the last several days, I thought to post some pictures of the real me. The Solemn Cleric:
Truth, the real me is a melange of who I know and whoever that was that others have known through the years, a stranger to me. He keeps changing on the outside.
Inside he’s still seventeen and forty-two and driving incredible cars across the heavens. Not going there yet.
Inside he’s still seventeen and forty-two and driving incredible cars across the heavens. Not going there yet.
Robert and me on a walk one morning summer 2014 at the 4th Street Bridge across Massalina Bayou.
Robert and I remember the real 4th Street Bridge. A few others will too, who have been blessed to know and love Panama City so long. Taken looking across at the Courthouse.
Young couple just married: are they seeing their own future, or have they been spotted by an elderly priest looking back at who he thinks he still is?
Sunset last evening as the old man sips two glasses of shiraz through a straw, going off pleasantly buzzy.
It's about me. Bubba, Carroll, Tom.