Category Archives: answer

‘okily, dokily’- ned flanders.

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not long ago

i was stuck for an unexpectedly long chunk of time

waiting to have my car repaired

(some of you may remember my tire store post from a couple of weeks ago)

i entertained myself

by reading, writing, watching things on a big screen

thinking about

the phone calls and paperwork and research

i still needed to complete

questions i hoped to have answered

now that i was officially retired.

nothing to be done about it

i’d deal with it later when i got home.

armed with a mean cup of mechanic-grade coffee

(i drink all coffee)

accepted i’d be a captive audience

to whatever happened for the next couple of hours.

in walked a quiet, unassuming man

who sat down at the table

where i was working on my computer

he began working on his

asked me how long i’d been waiting

he had a long wait ahead of him too

i shared that i had just retired

 wanted to be home lolling around

instead of sitting in an auto repair waiting room.

(first world whining on my part)

that opened the genie’s bottle

for the next 100ish minutes

 he told me

about he and his wife’s retirement last year

she was a teacher too

he was an engineer

gave me tips

answered all of my questions

told me what not to waste my time on

offered me shortcuts

suggested what not to forget

talked about life after retirement.

 after their double retirement

he decided to get social

formed a book club with his guy friends

mapped out his garden projects

set up a spread sheet system for them to keep track of things

started exercising more

i had more of that coffee…

 shared some of the things that i’d learned as a newbie.

such a sincere, humble, genuinely friendly guy

(all i could think of was ‘ned flanders’)

a character on the long-running animated tv comedy, the simpsons.

he was smiling, happy, optimistic, helpful, and so very cheery

just like ‘ned.’

i have no idea what his real name was

but we happened to be stuck waiting together

at the just the perfect time

(i wonder if he was thinking ‘marge simpson’ with regard to me)

our long waits flew by

we chatted about family, teaching, the city, the world..

 he helped me fill in so many blanks in the retirement universe

gave me confidence that i could navigate it easily

thank you, ‘ned’

sometimes you find your answers in the least expected of places.

“the measure of wisdom is in simplicity, humility, and in friendliness.”

-debasish mridha, m.d.

 

 

 

 

 

image/show credits:  the simpsons, fox broadcasting

 

q and a.

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back in my advertising days

i often had to find answers to odd questions of all kinds

as there was no google then

 when i exhausted all possible avenues

(asking 2 or 3 random people in my office)

i knew there was a place i could go to find someone

who would unfailingly find an answer to my questions

i dialed up the local phone number

of the woman sitting at a desk in the detroit public library

who held the very interesting and important position of

 ‘chief and brilliant question answerer/researcher’

(or some such title as i imagined it to be)

she answered my call

when i asked in all seriousness:

“did gumby (of gumby and pokey fame), have a nose?”

she did not waver or judge and said she would research it and get back to me asap

true to her word she returned my call within the hour with this report:

she could confirm

that gumby did indeed, have a nose

brilliant

client crisis averted

just another moment in her day and i wish this position still existed.

“i used to think i knew all the answers.

then i thought knew maybe a few of the answers.

now I’m not even sure I understand the questions.

nobody knows anything.”

― pete nelson, american author

an answer.

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THE NIGHT TRAVELER

Passing by, he could be anybody:

A thief, a tradesman, a doctor

On his way to a worried house.

But when he stops at your gate,

Under the room where you lie half-asleep,

You know it is not just anyone—

It is the Night Traveler.

You lean your arms on the sill

And stare down. But all you can see

Are bits of wilderness attached to him—

Twigs, loam and leaves,

Vines and blossoms. Among these

You feel his eyes, and his hands

Lifting something in the air.

He has a gift for you, but it has no name.

It is windy and woolly.

He holds it in the moonlight, and it sings

Like a newborn beast,

Like a child at Christmas,

Like your own heart as it tumbles

In love’s green bed.

You take it, and he is gone.

All night—and all your life, if you are willing—

It will nuzzle your face, cold-nosed,

Like a small white wolf;

It will curl in your palm

Like a hard blue stone;

It will liquefy into a cold pool

Which, when you dive into it,

Will hold you like a mossy jaw.

A bath of light. An answer.

 

 

credits: poem from Twelve Moons, 1979 by Mary Oliver, painting – google images