Thursday, August 16, 2018
As I Read Through Social Media Comments I Start To Feel Bad
By: Donovan Baldwin
Sometimes as I read through comments on social media sites, I start to feel bad. So many other people are posting comments that offer deep and important thoughts on life, business, politics, religion, the economy... etc.
Here I sit, chatting about climbing trees and swimming in Pensacola Bay as a boy.
I could get a feeling of value if I was an "entertainer", someone who could make people laugh and forget their troubles... or a Will Rogers kind of guy who poked humorous holes in the conceits of the rich, famous, and powerful.
Bothered me for a while.
Then, I came to realize something. Perhaps there was a niche, a need, for someone who thought the simple things were important enough to talk about, think about. Someone who thought that thoughts did not always have to start at the highest levels and tackle the toughest problems... answering the most burning questions... or even the simple little day to day ones.
So, that's who I am... old guy who still enjoys climbing trees (in his mind), walking the shore by the bay, feeling the wind, listening to the birds, and wondering what's for dinner.
I figure THAT'S important too... just being human... being A human.
Plenty of people taking on the tough questions, and plenty of entertainers... BUT, there's only ONE of me!
Sometimes as I read through comments on social media sites, I start to feel bad. So many other people are posting comments that offer deep and important thoughts on life, business, politics, religion, the economy... etc.
Here I sit, chatting about climbing trees and swimming in Pensacola Bay as a boy.
I could get a feeling of value if I was an "entertainer", someone who could make people laugh and forget their troubles... or a Will Rogers kind of guy who poked humorous holes in the conceits of the rich, famous, and powerful.
Bothered me for a while.
Then, I came to realize something. Perhaps there was a niche, a need, for someone who thought the simple things were important enough to talk about, think about. Someone who thought that thoughts did not always have to start at the highest levels and tackle the toughest problems... answering the most burning questions... or even the simple little day to day ones.
So, that's who I am... old guy who still enjoys climbing trees (in his mind), walking the shore by the bay, feeling the wind, listening to the birds, and wondering what's for dinner.
I figure THAT'S important too... just being human... being A human.
Plenty of people taking on the tough questions, and plenty of entertainers... BUT, there's only ONE of me!
Labels: climbing trees, donovan baldwin, Pensacola Bay, simple things, social media, thoughts, Will Rogers
Wednesday, August 15, 2018
John Steinbeck and I Are Alike When A Ship's Whistle Blows, Or A Fog Horn Sounds
"Four hoarse blasts of a ship's whistle still raise the hair on my neck and set my feet to tapping."
- John Steinbeck
I know the feeling.
I grew up on the edge of Pensacola Bay in West Florida.
Some nights, I could hear fog horns from ships on the bay.
Boats wanting to pass under the Bayou Chico bridge, a quarter of a mile away, blew their horn. The train which passed my house daily, blew the horn for each driveway and road... and there were a lot of driveways.
I would walk down to the edge of the bay, look across the water, and images and stories would play through my head, and occasionally I would make up my own.
Sometimes I could see the ships... in the evening as the night drew down, I could see their lights, and hear the horns...
Trains, ships, stories, and horns... and a young man's imagination...
No wonder, like Steinbeck, some sounds, some memories, can raise the hair on the back of my neck... and make my foot start tapping...
- John Steinbeck
I know the feeling.
I grew up on the edge of Pensacola Bay in West Florida.
Some nights, I could hear fog horns from ships on the bay.
Boats wanting to pass under the Bayou Chico bridge, a quarter of a mile away, blew their horn. The train which passed my house daily, blew the horn for each driveway and road... and there were a lot of driveways.
I would walk down to the edge of the bay, look across the water, and images and stories would play through my head, and occasionally I would make up my own.
Sometimes I could see the ships... in the evening as the night drew down, I could see their lights, and hear the horns...
Trains, ships, stories, and horns... and a young man's imagination...
No wonder, like Steinbeck, some sounds, some memories, can raise the hair on the back of my neck... and make my foot start tapping...
Labels: boats, donovan baldwin, fog horns, John Steinbeck, Pensacola Bay, ships, stories, trains, travel
Saturday, August 11, 2018
We Protect Our Children. That's Only Natural.
By: Donovan Baldwin
We protect our children. That's only natural.
When I look back on MY childhood, in a much different era, place, and with different dangers, I am sometimes surprised that I survived.
I spent days alone in the woods climbing trees, encountering snakes and strangers, finding all sorts of things which I inspected without fear of contamination, including discarded magazines which enhanced my knowledge of anatomy... somewhat, swam in Pensacola Bay, shot guns, used knives, threw rocks and shot whittled arrows from a homemade bow, at people doing the same to me.
I rode my bicycle in traffic every day, in my early teens getting up at 3 A.M. to ride my bike to an isolated place to get my newspapers and deliver them in the dark by myself.
Had the usual boyhood fights and arguments, and no-holds-barred football games and wrestling matches. Climbed everything... trees, walls, and even a couple of buildings.
Still, somehow, I made it here.
As a grown up, in dangerous occupations, I survived, at least in part, because I knew what I was doing.
As a kid?
Not sure HOW I made it.
Just a spin of Lady Luck's wheel, I guess.
Anyway, that, and Sister Mary Fides, and that dear little storytelling Irish priest, Father Cunningham, set my imagination in gear, and on fire, so that the boy's body, and mind, took it from there, and always did something with the memories.
Just meandering thoughts arriving here this morning.
We protect our children. That's only natural.
When I look back on MY childhood, in a much different era, place, and with different dangers, I am sometimes surprised that I survived.
I spent days alone in the woods climbing trees, encountering snakes and strangers, finding all sorts of things which I inspected without fear of contamination, including discarded magazines which enhanced my knowledge of anatomy... somewhat, swam in Pensacola Bay, shot guns, used knives, threw rocks and shot whittled arrows from a homemade bow, at people doing the same to me.
I rode my bicycle in traffic every day, in my early teens getting up at 3 A.M. to ride my bike to an isolated place to get my newspapers and deliver them in the dark by myself.
Had the usual boyhood fights and arguments, and no-holds-barred football games and wrestling matches. Climbed everything... trees, walls, and even a couple of buildings.
Still, somehow, I made it here.
As a grown up, in dangerous occupations, I survived, at least in part, because I knew what I was doing.
As a kid?
Not sure HOW I made it.
Just a spin of Lady Luck's wheel, I guess.
Anyway, that, and Sister Mary Fides, and that dear little storytelling Irish priest, Father Cunningham, set my imagination in gear, and on fire, so that the boy's body, and mind, took it from there, and always did something with the memories.
Just meandering thoughts arriving here this morning.
Labels: boyhood, childhood, children, donovan baldwin, Irish priest, Pensacola Bay, survival
Saturday, October 28, 2017
Context In More Than One Context
By: Donovan Baldwin
We all know it's easy to take things out of context, and, yet, hard at the same time.
We see a statement, an action, an event, as a discrete item and judge its "badness" or "goodness" based on some immediate evaluation. Yet, that event is formed, defined, and assigned value by the context in which it occurs.
Most of us get that, and, after the heat of the moment is past, we can step back, as it were, and see things as part of a larger whole.
However, we sometimes forget that our own evaluation is formed dependent upon a context of our own, one which is a part of us at all times.
What we have lived, experienced, learned, right or wrong, is going to influence our evaluation of that statement, action, or event. My life as a boy, roaming the woods along the edge of Pensacola Bay, swimming and snorkeling in the Sun, in Florida, has had a lifelong impact on how I view the world, for example.
Even "where" and "when" we have lived, in addition to "who" we are, has its impact on how we see and evaluate everything around us...including our own beliefs as well as the thoughts of others.
I think most of us can agree on some basic "bad" things...murder, theft, intimidation by violence, yet, many of the bad and good things we see daily are defined by our "contexts", by our "contextual apprehension" of what is being said or happening around us.
I read a lot about "mindfulness" in today's world, usually applied to weight loss, success in business, or personal relationships.
Perhaps mindfulness of our personal beliefs, thoughts, issues, and context, might serve a purpose in our daily lives.
We all know it's easy to take things out of context, and, yet, hard at the same time.
We see a statement, an action, an event, as a discrete item and judge its "badness" or "goodness" based on some immediate evaluation. Yet, that event is formed, defined, and assigned value by the context in which it occurs.
However, we sometimes forget that our own evaluation is formed dependent upon a context of our own, one which is a part of us at all times.
What we have lived, experienced, learned, right or wrong, is going to influence our evaluation of that statement, action, or event. My life as a boy, roaming the woods along the edge of Pensacola Bay, swimming and snorkeling in the Sun, in Florida, has had a lifelong impact on how I view the world, for example.
Even "where" and "when" we have lived, in addition to "who" we are, has its impact on how we see and evaluate everything around us...including our own beliefs as well as the thoughts of others.
I think most of us can agree on some basic "bad" things...murder, theft, intimidation by violence, yet, many of the bad and good things we see daily are defined by our "contexts", by our "contextual apprehension" of what is being said or happening around us.
I read a lot about "mindfulness" in today's world, usually applied to weight loss, success in business, or personal relationships.
Perhaps mindfulness of our personal beliefs, thoughts, issues, and context, might serve a purpose in our daily lives.
Labels: context, donovan baldwin, life lesson, Pensacola, Pensacola Bay, snorkeling, swimming
Wednesday, October 18, 2017
Boys Riding The Storm
By: Donovan Baldwin
Kids do stupid things.
Okay, maybe not so much stupid, as out of ignorance of consequences.
The recent hurricanes reminded me of some of the dumb things I did in Florida as a boy. Not just hurricanes, but, when other storms blew in, my friend and I would go swimming in Pensacola Bay.
I don't know what the attraction was, unless it was that moment in a storm, or just before, when the water is flat, unmoving, dull gray like lead, not quite shining like mercury, surreal, framed above by storm clouds.
I sensed something when I saw that. An odd feeling of something strangely different from the day to day experiences of water and life. The bay was usually blue or blue-green and moving, constantly moving. Before the storm it got flat and still.
Somehow that spoke to me of some awesome power that could make water, that water, be still, especially from some unknown distance.
My friend and I would climb slender trees, and hang on, riding them in the wind, swinging our weight in rhythm with the wind, at least having sense enough to head for home before that wind got too strong for mortal boys.
We didn't experience the powerful hurricanes you read about recently, but, still, wind and storm enough to strike fear and create havoc.
We were too young and, well, ignorant, to realize the forces we were toying with. Yet, wouldn't trade a moment of it.
Strong forces, plus a hint of danger, a dash of adventure, plus lots of ignorance equals some grand memories. Had a pretty good boyhood.
Don't know how I, or my parents, survived it.
Okay, maybe not so much stupid, as out of ignorance of consequences.
The recent hurricanes reminded me of some of the dumb things I did in Florida as a boy. Not just hurricanes, but, when other storms blew in, my friend and I would go swimming in Pensacola Bay.
I don't know what the attraction was, unless it was that moment in a storm, or just before, when the water is flat, unmoving, dull gray like lead, not quite shining like mercury, surreal, framed above by storm clouds.
I sensed something when I saw that. An odd feeling of something strangely different from the day to day experiences of water and life. The bay was usually blue or blue-green and moving, constantly moving. Before the storm it got flat and still.
Somehow that spoke to me of some awesome power that could make water, that water, be still, especially from some unknown distance.
My friend and I would climb slender trees, and hang on, riding them in the wind, swinging our weight in rhythm with the wind, at least having sense enough to head for home before that wind got too strong for mortal boys.
We didn't experience the powerful hurricanes you read about recently, but, still, wind and storm enough to strike fear and create havoc.
We were too young and, well, ignorant, to realize the forces we were toying with. Yet, wouldn't trade a moment of it.
Strong forces, plus a hint of danger, a dash of adventure, plus lots of ignorance equals some grand memories. Had a pretty good boyhood.
Don't know how I, or my parents, survived it.
Labels: boyhood, climbing trees, donovan baldwin, hurricane, Pensacola Bay, storm, wind
Saturday, September 16, 2017
Pleasure Of The Great Outdoors
By Donovan Baldwin
Mother Nature put on a bit of a show in the Fort Worth area between 4 and 6 AM.
Big thunderstorm, or, as I have heard them called in this part of Texas, "thunder boomer".
I grew up in Florida, on Pensacola Bay along the Florida Gulf Coast, so, thunderstorms are not new to me.
However, in this part of Texas, dreaded "water from the sky" is not as common as it was down on the coast.
Over the decades, I have worked many jobs that took me outside a lot. Mama Nature and I are old friends, if not always good friends, in my boyhood, on beaches, in woods, and as a working man. Even my "fun" activities often occurred outside.
(Side note: If you are not from the coast and love on the beach sounds romantic to you, ditch that idea. Sand gets into everything....everything.)
Anyway, I have gotten away from Lady Nature, what with advancing age and other responsibilities.
Pity.
It's always (Except when it's Summer in Texas...) a pleasure to reconnect with the Great Outdoors.
Most days, these days, it's through my sitting room window. However, today, I am taking the trailer to nearby Benbrook Lake, and am going to renew my friendship with Ol' Ms. Nature for a week.
Comments may not be as often as normal, but, expect the pleasure meter to be near the top of the scale. Nothing like a little quality time with Mother Nature to make you feel you're home, and whole, again.
NOTE: The above comment was written several weeks prior to being posted here, and I have been back from that pleasurable outing for several weeks.
Big thunderstorm, or, as I have heard them called in this part of Texas, "thunder boomer".
I grew up in Florida, on Pensacola Bay along the Florida Gulf Coast, so, thunderstorms are not new to me.
However, in this part of Texas, dreaded "water from the sky" is not as common as it was down on the coast.
Over the decades, I have worked many jobs that took me outside a lot. Mama Nature and I are old friends, if not always good friends, in my boyhood, on beaches, in woods, and as a working man. Even my "fun" activities often occurred outside.
(Side note: If you are not from the coast and love on the beach sounds romantic to you, ditch that idea. Sand gets into everything....everything.)
Anyway, I have gotten away from Lady Nature, what with advancing age and other responsibilities.
Pity.
It's always (Except when it's Summer in Texas...) a pleasure to reconnect with the Great Outdoors.
Most days, these days, it's through my sitting room window. However, today, I am taking the trailer to nearby Benbrook Lake, and am going to renew my friendship with Ol' Ms. Nature for a week.
Comments may not be as often as normal, but, expect the pleasure meter to be near the top of the scale. Nothing like a little quality time with Mother Nature to make you feel you're home, and whole, again.
NOTE: The above comment was written several weeks prior to being posted here, and I have been back from that pleasurable outing for several weeks.
Labels: donovan baldwin, Florida, Florida Gulf Coast, Mother Nature, nature, Pensacola Bay, texas, thunderstorms
