I say it’s all right

Here on this sunny morning 49 years after a hot, sunny day in Waupaca, Wisconsin — when I walked into the radio station on my first day as an alleged adult — I listen to the dogs pant and the dishwasher churn (I didn’t own a dishwasher on May 19, 1975) and contemplate what to do with the time that’s left.

As “the time that’s left” grows shorter, so does the time for contemplation, and the idea of sitting and thinking about what to do next seems sillier by the minute. What am I going to DO — capital D, capital O — because the expiration date is out there somewhere, growing nearer by the day?

The focus has shifted from “what do I want to do when I grow up?” to “what do I want to do with the time that’s left?” Actually, they’re variations of the same questions: What do I want to do? Who do I want to be?

Here comes the sun, and the birds are singing — the early birds are making quick work of this morning’s seed allotment. The gardens wait, as do my assignments for today. I have taken on these tasks, and I’d better go out and use the daylight while it’s abundant and available.

“Little darling, it’s been a long, cold, lonely winter. The smile’s returning to the faces. I feel that ice is slowly melting. It seems like years since it’s been here. It seems like years since it’s been clear. Here comes the sun, and I say it’s all right.”

The same lines, rearranged, make the feeling more clear, or at least help me hear the words again. Sing a song for 55 years and it can become routine background music. Listen again as if for the first time and hear the meaning again, at last.

What am I going to “do-do-do-do” with the time that’s left?

Commencement season commences

Friday night was the start of high school graduation season in these parts. I attended the first of four commencement exercises that I expect to cover in the next nine days for our stalwart community newspapers.

I might add that today is the 49^th anniversary of my crossing the stage to accept a college diploma, and Sunday is the beginning of my 50^th year as a guy paid to watch other people have a life and report what I see.

So it’s the time of year to see young people relieved at being free to be responsible for their own lives and scared to death because now they’re responsible for their own lives.

This first graduation ceremony of the season was at a Lutheran high school, so it started with a prayer from a pastor who, coincidentally enough, said that he graduated from high school 49 years ago. He told the grads you never know exactly what God has in store for you and admitted when he crossed that high school stage he did not suspect that his career would be as a pastor.

The main speaker quoted from Emerson words that may have seemed odd to those young people who were poised to launch full tilt into their pursuit of happiness: “The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well.”

The interesting thing is that if you live well, if you are useful, honorable, compassionate and make a difference, you’ll find yourself feeling something like happiness. And the darker times will be when you’re feeling useless or realize you could have handled something with a little more honor or compassion.

Those ancient poets knew a few things about life.

soft opening

I think the idea of a Big Launch Event is a little overblown. You wait until you get all your ducks in a row before sending the book into the world, but the problem with that is sometimes the ducks never line up. So why not release the ebook when it’s ready, and let the paper and audio versions come when they come?

And how’s this for the blurb?

* * *

Every life represents a universe — the saying goes, “When an elder dies, a library burns to the ground,” but all people have collected a library full of experiences and wisdom and hard lessons learned. When hundreds or thousands die, the loss is enormous. When they are victims of institutional mass murder, the tragedy is unspeakable.

The most important book Warren Bluhm assembled since Refuse to be Afraid emerged out of his grief at losing his wife: “It grew from there — how dare any so-called leader rain such agony down on other human beings? Life, this precious fragile gift, should never be ended deliberately and violently, and how dare anyone inflict violent death on others and subject their loved ones to this deep grief?”

“War IS the Crime: Reflections on Peace and Nonviolence” collects posts from the warrenbluhm.com blog into a call to end mass slaughter as a means to settle humanity’s differences.

“I have no illusions that I will sell many copies of this little book or that it will change the world in my lifetime, but I want to put these thoughts somewhere that they can be shared and, perhaps, taken to heart,” Bluhm said. “I truly believe I am not alone in these thoughts and that perhaps a book like this might encourage anyone who might be filled with despair that constant war is inevitable. People want peace, so we ought to be working together toward that goal.”

* * *

I’m still working on the physical versions, but the digital is ready, so what the hey. I’ll plan to make a fuss when it’s all out there.