Changes

David Bowie had a catchy song called "Changes"....
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes (turn and face the strain)
Ch-ch-changes Dont want to be a richer man
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes (turn and face the strain)
Ch-ch-changes Just gonna have to be a different man
Time may change me
But I can't trace time

Perhaps many people have felt that they have seen more change in their lifetime than any other generation....so it's a very subjective thing. I can remember in the late 60's and early 70's I saw so much change and much of it I did not like. Values, mores, ideals, routines that I had grown up with were being challenged and changed...sometimes for the better....other times just for the sake of change. I don't always deal with change very well. So many things that anchor our lives succumb to the "boiled frog syndrome." As a frog boils in a pot with slowly increasing heat, it never detects the change and too late it's dead.

Now that my life has changed beyond my imagination, I grope for things that bring me comfort, comfort before the pot boiled. I find myself watching reruns of Andy Griffith, the Waltons, Kung Fu, Star Trek and more. A different time and place. All bring back such pleasant memories of a simpler time, and a happier time.

I guess if there is any consolation, I have found at least 2 things, not including my parents or my memory, that still harkens me back to bliss, and is alive and in operation today: the Boy Scouts and the US Naval Academy. Thank God that my 2 oldest sons made Eagle Scout and attended the Naval Academy. If I have done nothing else in life, and no matter the personal failures, I feel that I have contributed to their success and have given them the opportunity to participate in some experience that will equip them for what lies ahead. The values, the leadership training, the experiences of stepping outside of the modern mold. I have my 2 youngest children yet to prepare. I pray that I can see to it that they too have fair winds and following seas. I love you my dear children, always remember that.

Dad