Little Indicators

I recall an anecdote about an American frontier explorer - I think it was Daniel Boone - who was asked by someone, "Mr. Boone, you ever been lost?"

Boone is reported to have cocked his head, stroked his chin between his index finger and thumb, pursed his lips, and slowly replied, "Ah cain't rottly say Ah hev . . .. Bin motty turned-'round for weeks-a-time, though."

The same might be said of any life invested in catching innocents as they approach the precipice.

As these entries amass, unexpected topics and attitudes - as if from forces unknown - make their way into your monitor.

I "own" these topics and attitudes, even the ones that surprise me. Even the ones that concern you. Even the ones which offend.

Recently, I provided http://www.olderholden.blogspot.com to a woman I have known since 1972. Our relationship has always been a highly-charged thing. The charge has vacillated between "ground" and "hot" - sometimes without much indication that the cables were being switched. We have blown up a few batteries in our day, and I guess each of us has had exploded acid burn us to some degree.

In earlier times, when we were in conflict, timid soul I would choose one of two courses of response. I would assume that I was the source of conflict, and that being such was due to my inadequacy; or, I would disagree with a critical action, and seek to explain/justify/rationalize my side. Neither response was satisfactory in the whole.

In the past week, my long-standing acquaintance emailed to tell me that she had been begun to hurriedly review the blog. (Another more-pressing activity was intruding.) What stopped the reading was some of the content she observed in "Of Things Fresh and Stale".

My acquaintance wrote: "Unfortunately, in scanning down to see how long it was, I came across your assault on women OUR age. And even though I have heard you say those words out loud, seeing them in print was shocking and sad. I do hope that you find some peace some day, and are able to take full accountability for your situation without constantly blaming and denigrating women."

I wrote back: "I call 'bullshit'. Look around. Even women acknowledge it. I suspect that this is God's way to 'make it up' to men for making young women so irresistibly hot. That does not mean I dislike women my age. I like crocodiles. too." (The source of her concern about my relationship with women was a conversation that Older Holden and Ed Rice were having on O.H.'s back porch after they had come back from eating barbeque. O.H. was telling Ed that he had given up dating until he turned 60, because women "our age" are either "shot-out looking, or mean. Or, the daily double - both.")

My email response concluded, "The blog is about idealism and innocence, anyway."

Shortly afterwards, I heard back, "OLD FOOL."

Having my initial observation at least partly confirmed by this remark, I allowed myself to enjoy my new-found identity as a person-not-an-extension-of-the-other. Still holding the same affection for my friend as I always have, and no longer needing to defend what to me is an accurate portrayal of my experiences, I knew at my core that some gentle touch was called for. I responded:

"TWO-HEADED CROCODILE.









(Not really . . .)"




I respectfully request that a reader remember that Alf V. TerZane is not Older Holden.


Like Ol' Mittah Boone, Ah bin motty turned-'round for weeks-a-time, but Ah ain't bin lost.