Friday, December 16, 2022

Things I am pretty sure of ... (redux)


2022 Sunset


This is my last post for La Bloga for the year 2022. Another crazy year -- aren't they all?  But we should commemorate the old and prepare for the new, right?  

When I thought about writing an end-of-the-year essay, I realized that I'd done plenty of those.  After all, La Bloga has been around for eighteen years, so you know the writers at La Bloga have often lamented bad years, celebrated the good ones, and hoped for even better ones in the future.  Rather than try to come up with something new, I decided to look over some of my past contributions for possible recycling.

The one below is from December 31, 2010.  I labeled it Things I am pretty sure of ...

Most of what I wrote back then still holds true for me.  Changes have happened, of course: my father and mother have passed on, Obama has lost some of his light, the grandchildren think they are too old to "play", health is more of an issue these days, etc.  Yet, the piece still speaks to me. Maybe it will say something to you. So here it is.
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End of the year musings --

> We are students and teachers, often at the same time.

> Being a student is more important than being a teacher.

> I don't appreciate people who think their role in life is to teach me what is right or wrong.

> If I want something done, I have two choices that will ensure it will happen: ask the busiest person I know to get it done or do it myself.

> People with time on their hands are kidding themselves.

> Sweat is the elixir of life. Working up a good sweat can usually cure what ails me. And think of the ways to get that perspiration going: exercise, physical labor, sex. All good.

> There is a difference between the emotion generated by listening to José Alfredo Jiménez lament la que se fue, and from listening to Emmylou Harris hold that perfect note backed-up by a melancholy steel guitar, but in the long run the difference does not matter.

> I am with the person who has turned out to be the great love of my life. I think that is what is meant when someone says they are blessed. I get all metaphysical about this because if left to me alone, I easily could have screwed it up.

> Happiness: watching my grandchildren play with their grandmother. The ability to play cannot be overrated and should not be underestimated.

> The road has not been straight or level or even safe; I am glad I didn't turn back.

> I would still choose Obama.

> My favorite ritual involves espresso, steamed milk and cinnamon. It's the closest I get to a religious experience.

> My father (82) can fix anything, build anything, handle any crisis with understated grace. He is stubborn and set in his ways. In his shadow, I am inept. I love my father.

> My mother (83) has developed a different personality. Or maybe I am finally seeing her as a person rather than a symbol. She can enjoy life like a child and find fault like the great-grandmother she is. I love my mother.

> Watching my father rehab from his stroke reminded me of the importance of balance in all things -- not only for standing up.

> The nights of "one too many" are over for me but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy a good wine or scotch or dark beer. The best part is that I do mean "enjoy."

> Fear is motivation. I run, write, and pay my bills out of fear. I don't know what I am afraid of, but so far it has worked.

> In the recent past I have taught myself how to juggle, taken up yoga, returned to running, and I tried to teach myself how to play the guitar. The guitar thing did not pan out. What I really would like to do is learn the accordion, conjunto style.

> Nine years of war have changed the U.S. in ways we cannot fully understand, yet. And the changes are not good.

> I want to ponder the big questions like God and existence and art versus politics and whether the world is flat or round. But I also won't get rid of my cable system's On Demand feature.

> I'm a listener, not a talker. If it were possible, I'd arrange a conversation with Emiliano Zapata, Mark Twain, and John Coltrane, open a bottle of wine, sit back, and listen.

> I'm so square I use words like "square."

> I'm so old school, I line up for recess when I hear a bell ring.

> I am a Chicano writer.

> I hate labels.

To all La Bloga readers and contributors: have a happy, prosperous, and healthy 2011.

¡Feliz Año Nuevo!

Later.

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Manuel Ramos writes crime fiction. Read his latest story, Northside Nocturne, in Denver Noir, edited by Cynthia Swanson, published by Akashic Books.

1 comment:

  1. As always, I like the way you think, I may not agree with everything but it sure makes me think!

    ReplyDelete

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