Sittin' on the dock on the Bay,..."

I love to start each post with whatever "pops" into my brain as a musical inspiration. Oh yeah,...Otis Redding, ..what a tune!
Sometimes we feel like we're just "sittin' on the dock on theBay, watching as time flows away, yeah". (Old Fart Rant coming! Strap on you're helmets young'uns and get ready!)
I got to thinking a lot about time today. And I mean a lot.
This Saturday is the service we're having for Mikie. (God I miss that dude already!) I have his ashes and we scheduled a "get together" at the Whale's Tail (a local watering hole right on the shore of the Gulf of Mexico, about twenty five feet to the water) The plan is a simple one that I hope even Mikie would be happy about. We gather at 3p.m., have a drink and chat about our honored guest's final farewell. Maybe there's tears, maybe there's hugs, maybe there is laughter. It's been a full month, and the schock has past, the memories are flowing in all of us like that cold morning when you reach down and pull a blanket up over you and feel the warmth. There were some recriminations, some disputes, but it's over, for this is Mikie's last time to be physically with us. We have a list of folks who want to "share" , and I'm the last one on the list, because someone close to him has to bring us all to closure, and set our friend free to be above, below and all around us, bringing that periodic dumb goofy memory of him that will keep the dude alive in us.
After I say my goodbyes, I will take a portion of the ashes, walk down to the Gulf, and scatter them (totally illegal by the local ordinaces, but it's Mikie, so f**k 'em!) then I'll invite all the other folks to do the same, until we have put Mikie totally to rest.
Having grown up Roman Catholic, taken years to realize so many things are not a "sin", learned that we are all people who IF we choose to live by a faith must discern the truths of that faith and learn to separate the "human intervention" in that faith, from the true meaning of that faith, I have come a long way.
So what do I want done with me? (Sorry if I'm freaking some of my younger readers out, but I am closer to facing the reality of life than you,...we are all bound to die, eventually.) No I'm not a "Jesus freak", or a "born again" person, nor a anything. I choose to believe what I believe, what I define as my "faith". Faith in a lot of respects is like a custom made Armani suit. Sure I can "buy off the rack" , but with that comes the legs that are too long, the button that has to be moved, the "butt" that is great as long as you don't bend over. I'm just not an off the rack kind of guy when it come to faith.
Then you have the quasi-agnostic, whose idea of religion is as non-sensical as oragami. Pretty to see and talk about, but can you cut it?
So what do I believe? I believe the truths of Christianity are good. The tenants of the whole "love thy neighbor as thyself" a truly phenomenally deep truth for everyone. Do I have to go to church each Sunday? No! Can I want to delve deeply into transendental meditation? Most assuredly. Would I deliberately want to, nay, even be able to, consciously hurt another human being, be they Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddist, or "other"? No!
You're faith is about your very innnermost soul, the place that only you can go, and only you can be totally intimate within. Do I love to drink, Damn right! Do I enjoy the hell out of sex? Are you brain dead, mais certainment! But my "faith" allows for that and not to be a "bible quoter" (for I really don't have much respect for folks who have to use what someone else says as thier thought, spit out on you're own, by God you are unique, be that way!
I love mankind, I love people, and I love the fact that none of us, and I mean none of us, including me, come anywhere near being perfect!
My buddy Carl drives a $200,000 Bentley sedan. I once asked him "Where do you take it to be serviced?" He looked at me like I really should have known this and said, "They come and pick it up in a truck and leave me a car to use while they fix it." Now Carl and I know each other from the Pub, we both love football, Guinness, and frank conversation. Is he rich?, Yeah,...in fact freakin' filthy rich, and he's trying to give it all away before he dies because he knows, ...you will never , ever, see a hearse with a U-haul behind it. I like Carl because he's human, he's been to the summit, and he knows. It's about you , me, us and making folks believe they are unique, and that they count.
Sorry , I digressed. The end of me is simple, call the "1-800" number, they'll drag my old shot bones to a crematorium. Then take the next four weeks and seek counsel, get my affairs in order, hug my children, let my friends hug you, cry when you need to, snuggle up to my cat instead of me, because he will most certainly miss me just as much, clean out my "stuff", and wake up every day with one simple thought, "life is for the living", I've had my life, you still have your's,....live it!
In four weeks do what you want, have a church service, scatter my ashes, keep them on the mantle, it doesn't matter. The "Me" you knew still loves you 'til all the stars in the heavens burn out, ...but I'm gone. Remember me, but don't idolize me, go on with your life, ...for that is what life is about,....life! God what a beautiful gift we have,... do we appreciate it?
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