Beech Tree News Network

Reflections: 

We all know a plant needs roots in order to grow. But it’s been said, with man it is the other way around. Only when he grows enough to have roots in a particular place does he feel at home in the world. I brought my family to Butler County in 1963. Our bids grew up here. We have grandkids who were born here. Our roots are deep here. 

Someone said, “To grow old is to grow common. Old age equalizes-we are aware that what is happening to us has happened to a bunch of folks from the beginning of time.”  Speaking of old, the question has been put; is there a self-aware person who does not squirm when he remembers what he was like at twenty? 

Writer Henri de Montherlant said, “When I remember what I was like between seventeen and twenty-seven, I wish I could spit at my former self.” 

I’m not that drastic, but I did act silly as a pet coon at Tootsie Hagan’s house one time-I still regret it. I wish I could find her and apologize. 

I had only met Tootsie briefly before. She was a sweet, quiet pretty girl. We sat out in her yard, under the moonlight. I did nothing untoward, except try to impress her with my seventeen-year-old acumen and maturity (that was a laugh). I only succeeded in a “backside” of myself-a very big one.  

Tootsie, if you per chance ever see this, I am truly sorry. 

Kudos to a writer by the name of William Blake: “Nature has no Compassion… no noble attributes of courage, honor, love, hope, faith, duty, and loyalty. It thrives on devouring bird and beast and tree. Nature accepts no excuses; the only punishment it knows is death.” Why do some want to make something warm and fuzzy out of “Mother Nature?” It’s like kissing a Cobra on the lips.

 I once talked to an old man about God. “Mother Nature is the only God I believe in” he told me. I was sorrowful for him. 

This makes me feel better: Recently I read- “The end comes when we no longer talk to ourselves. It is the end of genuine thinking and the beginning of the final loneliness. The cessation of inner dialogue marks also the end of our concern with the world around us.” 

I talk to myself constantly. A lot of it is scolding myself for doing something dumb. To end this thought, I’m obliged to remember a quote by famous western writer, Louis L’Mour, said concerning loneliness: In a line from one of his novels he said, “The solitary rider did not fear his aloneness, for he had the companionship of the MIND.” 

I see I have room for another thought, and then I’ll HESH: It’s amazing how much phoniness it takes to produce a grain of originality.  

Recently I said to first wife Bett: “Do you think you ever see the real so-and-so?” “That is the real so-in-so,” she said. 

Kindest regards…..