The purest days of contentment were those spent in the bright warmth of the sun and contrasting cool bliss of the water. In this setting I was in perfect harmony; my natural state of being. These magical days were devoid of any strife or conflict, more a discovery of reality than an escape from it. I needed the solar battery charge and the cleanse of the water to exist properly. It was as if each day spent in this condition was a sort of necessary periodic and ritualistic pagan baptismal. A renewal and reaffirmation of what happiness is, and should be; it was a daily visit to perfection that was always and completely recognized as sacred, maybe only subconsciously, but never taken for granted. Even at this young age I comprehended this is in the way a child could, not so much cognitive but intuitive. It is my closest approximation to spiritual.
I knew of her existence at an early age, later in my adolescence, before I had ever met her. She was the one that seemed sacred to me, fascinating in pure beauty and rarer than any precious metals. She was beyond any form of possession or attainment in my mind at that time. Not in the manner that I felt I was unworthy, but, in the fundamentally accepted condition that all were unworthy. I considered her as some form of treasure-being, or embodiment of natural elements impossible to possess; just like trying to hold a ray of sunshine or putting a handful of clear water in your pocket. She was to behold, not hold. To me she was perfection, a priceless natural exhibit in a museum to wonder and love and enjoy the simple fact that someone so beautiful was present in the world.
The day I spoke to her opened my mind to the previously unthought of notion that someone so precious might be more to me than a beautiful vision from a distance. Like the feeling you might have if you reached out to touch a rainbow and recoiled in surprise at actually feeling it or reaching up and snatching the moon from the night sky.
She was, and is, My Sun and Sea, even in physical sense as well as spiritual. Her hair ablaze with the same hues produced by extreme fusion of the elements and eyes the calm blue of the freshest lake. She is that very same purity and peace I felt as a child.
I live fearless of the Earth’s waters and and the Sun’s cosmic rays knowing that I am regarded by both as worthy, since My Sun and Sea chose to love me.
Every day, the ice cream truck would come down my street and I would meet it at the corner where it would park. There would always be a few kids there, but I never really took much notice. In my dream, this seemed to be my daily routine. I would climb in the truck to find the same scene every day. Inside this tiny little piece of crap ice cream truck was a spacious old bar, or, a better description would be one of those old soda fountain places like they used to have in the old days (like Ashe’s on the corner of Detroit Avenue and Fearing in my old neighborhood in Toledo). Inside this very cool and dimly lighted ice cream truck, the scene was always the same each day with Jim Leyland (manager of the Detroit Tigers) sitting behind they counter on a stool next to the old fashioned cash register and Bobby Cox (recently retired manager of the Atlanta Braves) sitting on a bench. Bobby would always be sitting on the bench, near the window where he gave out ice cream, in the same manner that he did for every Braves game for the past two decades.
I would spend each evening watching the baseball game, or listening to one on the AM-FM radio, with Jim and Bobby, smoking and drinking beer. Sometimes I would chew tobacco instead, like Bobby does, for camaraderie on those particular days where the game of the night was a Braves game. There was never any discussion of any matter besides baseball, and very little of that. The only dialogue was a smattering of curses here and there or quick comments about a play or player performance. It was always about the game and never any small talk. It was perfect.
The only significant event I recall was one evening some kids came to the truck and Bobby got up to get them ice cream. There was a debate that ensued when one of the parents griped about the price of a bomb pop. Bobby told the guy he didn’t really give a shit if he bought the bomb pop or not and that he should hurry up because he was missing the game. He went on to tell the dad that he could shove the bomb pop up his ass for all he cared. That was when an umpire walked up and told us we were “oughta here!” So, we had to drive the truck to a different neighborhood that evening.
One evening, just like all the others, I met the truck and sat down at my usual seat at the bar across from Jim as he filled me a beer from the tap without even taking his eyes off the TV and barely a greeting- as was always the case. For some reason, this evening I dropped a dollar, two dimes and a nickel into the cash drawer that happened to be open. I sat down and for the first time took notice of the old freezers with all the ice cream in them. I asked “are the screwballs the ones with the gum in them?” to which Jim replied, somewhat annoyed, “I don’t fuckin’ know… Bobby? Do screwballs have fuckin’ gum in ‘em?” to which Bobby replied, “yep”.
I thought that sounded pretty good for some reason and asked “how much are they?” to which Bobby replied “shit, you can get about a hundred of ‘em for a dollar” without looking at me. “Really? are you exaggerating?” “No, I’m not exaggerating”, he replied with a hint of irritation at having to talk about business. “Cool, I’ll take a hundred of ‘em” and then after further thought asked “can I get a hundred and twenty five since I put a buck and a quarter in the register?”
Everything suddenly changed with this question. They both looked at me with disappointment as I realized the improbability of my surreal setting for the first time. The magic was gone and I woke up.
So, I suppose the message here is never ruin a good thing by asking too many questions, getting greedy or making more out of it than it needs to be. Just enjoy the simplicity, the little things in life, and be happy with what you got.
Address delivered to US Naval Post Graduate School (16 March 1954)
Some of the ideas I try to get across to the people who work for me are the following:
1. More than ambition, more than ability, it is rules that limit contribution; rules are the lowest common denominator of human behavior. They are a substitute for rational thought.
2. Sit down before fact with an open mind. Be prepared to give up every preconceived notion. Follow humbly wherever and to whatever abyss Nature leads, or you learn nothing. Don’t push out figures when facts are going in the opposite direction.
3. Free discussion requires an atmosphere unembarrassed by any suggestion of authority or even respect. If a subordinate always agrees with his superior he is a useless part of the organization. In this connection there is a story of Admiral Sims when he was on duty in London in World War I. He called a conscientious hard-working officer in to him to explain why he was dissatisfied with the officer’s work. The officer blushed and stammered when Sims pointed out that in all the time they had been working together the officer had never once disagreed with Sims.
4. All men are by nature conservative but conservatism in the military profession is a source of danger to the country. One must be ready to change his line sharply and suddenly, with no concern for the prejudices and memories of what was yesterday. To rest upon formula is a slumber that, prolonged, means death.
5. Success teaches us nothing; only failure teaches.
6. Do not regard loyalty as a personal matter. A greater loyalty is one to the Navy or to the Country. When you know you are absolutely right, and when you are unable to do anything about it, complete military subordination to rules becomes a form of cowardice.
7. To doubt one’s own first principles is the mark of a civilized man. Don’t defend past actions; what is right today may be wrong tomorrow. Don’t be consistent; consistency is the refuge of fools.
8. Thoughts arising from practical experience may be a bridle or a spur.
9. Optimism and stupidity are nearly synonymous.
10. Avoid over-coordination. We have all observed months-long delays caused by an effort to bring all activities into complete agreement with a proposed policy or procedure. While the coordinating machinery is slowly grinding away, the original purpose is often lost. The essence of the proposals is being worn down as the persons most concerned impatiently await the decision. The process has been aptly called coordinating to death.
11. A system under which it takes three men to check what one is doing is not control; it is systematic strangulation.
12. A man, by working 24 hours a day, could multiply himself 3 times. To multiply himself more than 3 times the only recourse is to train others to take over some of his work.
I met my girl when she was just that, a girl. It was love at first sight at an age when every young boy thinks so. In my case it was true and I knew so.
My girl was my best friend at a time in life when your best friends were supposed to be boys. I had many great friends; she was the best though.
I had to leave my girl when I was at an age when it was okay to leave a girl and set out in life. She was to be just a phase and I was to move on in life, to find the right girl later, when I was at a more appropriate age to do so. This was the way you were supposed to live life. It was true. She was just a phase; the phase of my life that will be the one between the day I met her and the day I died.
I knew the moment I had to leave her that we were meant to be together. It was both a moment of my deepest regret and yet of perfect clarity and certainty. I knew that we would be together forever.
My girl missed me and remained devoted to me at a time when others pressured her to move on. I was “gone and would not be back”, they would say. Many stood poised for the fade of this ephemeral pair.
The day I received news that I was to be a father is when I knew my wish was fulfilled and our life together was inevitable.
We were married without fanfare or sanction. The standard support of newlyweds was absent at a time when this support is more necessary than ever. “You are ruining your lives” was the buzz. Our quiet and private ceremony together in the azalea gardens was without consent by any other, only each other with the necessary witness by another human being and a piece of paper as a record . No need for holy blessing, as our unity was the most sanctified rite that could ever occur. We were wed in a manner that preceded any religion by millennia, with a cosmic welcoming of nature into her beautiful chaotic perfection.
My girl became the mother of my children at an age when it was too early to do so in today’s day and age. You were supposed to find yourself first and wait for the most appropriate financial time. What they didn’t understand was the fact that we had found ourselves in finding each other. While others were continuing their search, we were busy raising our children and living our lives that had already started.
My girl gave life to our children and cared for them without reading books by experts and expensive and trendy child raising gear. She just did it, as if she knew these things all her life. A more loving and nurturing mother will not be found.
We lived our lives and raised our children as our marriage thrived while other marriages sanctioned by God and Banks saw their omega or filed for bankruptcy. They failed because no myth can certify true love and no amount of money can buy contentment. Our union was perfect in its simplicity; as natural as circadian rhythms and the cycle of the lunar tides.
My girl is still my girl. Our children have grown now into the most wonderful human beings. They were nurtured throughout their lives and in the process gained confidence, wisdom, wit and compassion. They will succeed in life because they were loved, nurtured, challenged and trusted throughout their childhood. They will succeed as children of those who “found themselves” first are just being born. They always came first.
They will succeed because my girl gave them each a blue ribbon.
People have remained uneducated about nuclear energy for too long. Americans are limiting their educational resources to movies and television more and more, and less and less to books. Contrary to most movies and television shows, reactors are not nuclear weapons and do not explode. Contrary to what many in the mainstream media say, wind generators and solar cell panels cannot power a major city. Just take a look at the distribution of nuclear power plants in our country in relation to major metropolitan areas. If you live in one of these areas, you are most likely enjoying energy supplied by a nuclear reactor at an affordable rate. If you do the math and compare the Megawatt (MW) demand to what the various types of energy sources provide, you will see the problem. So, unless you want to see 45,000 windmills littering your landscape instead of trees, you might reconsider the benefit of that little nuclear power plant you drive by every day and fail to notice. ( for example- San Onofre Nuclear Power Plant on the coast of southern California, or quiet Davis Besse in Sandusky on your way to Cedar Point). Oh, and by the way, that is water vapor coming from those cooling towers, the same chemicals that are in clouds. Yes, clouds.
