This Bud’s for…

Everyone.

“You know that old trees just grow stronger
And old rivers grow wilder every day
Old people just grow lonesome
Waiting for someone to say, "Hello in there, hello"

Lyrics by John Prine

I was finishing up a gig of box shlepping for the monthly Friends of the Library sidewalk book sale, when I noticed a very senior customer. He was long and lean as a giraffe’s neck. Covering his sparse gray hair was a dapper cap. His wristwatch was adorned with turquoise. I’d say he stood out from the crowd of Durango’s book lovers. 

I watched as he methodically went through all the tables plucking books and placing them in a nearby cache. He chose most of his reads from the History/Biography tables. Eventually, he took a seat at a picnic table to review his selections. Every now and then, he’d glance up for a few minutes of people watching. I immediately recognized this activity. It’s the “better to be around humans than to sit alone in an empty house” look. 

It’s a look I’m guilty of as well. 

I wandered over, “Good Morning! Sir! I’m Jeff. I volunteer for the Friends of the Library. I couldn’t help but notice how long you spent at the History/Biography tables. Would you be interested in a really great book about Theodore Roosevelt?” 

“Maybe. Tell me about it.”

I gave him a brief book report on James Bradley’s “Imperial Cruise.” 

“ I used to be a Ranger for the National Park Service, so I’d be interested in learning more about TR.. I’ll go and look for it. My name is Bud by the way.”

“No need Bud! This is a full customer service book sale. I’ll bring the book to you.” 

I returned with the paperback and took a nearby seat. “I love our National Parks! They are one of America’s greatest inventions. Where did you work for the NPS?”

That was my opening. Bud took over from here. “I spent most of my career years at Mesa Verde. I was in law enforcement. I enjoyed my time with the Park Service, although I had my share of “by the book” superintendents. They weren’t the easiest of bosses.”

Bud’s history sprung forth from there. He grew up in Salt Lake City. “We were one of the few non-Mormon families!” He got married and raised five children. (Four daughters and a son). There are lots of grandchildren. Bud pulled out tiny family photos from his worn leather wallet. Apparently his  progeny are scattered in the cardinal directions of the US. I read between his silence  that his spouse was long gone. 

It was getting near lunchtime when Bud asked, “will there be more book sales?”

“Yes!” I caught the attention of our Madame President of Friends of the Library. “Shelley, would you happen to have a handout on upcoming sales for this Gentleman?” 

“Of course!” She returned in a nanosecond and handed Bud a slip of paper. 

We both stood up. “Bud, I hope we see you again in July”

“Yes! I’ll put it on my calendar.” 

“Good!” We shook hands on it.

Bud did return in July.  I bought him a cup of coffee, “I drink my coffee with three teaspoons of sugar and lots of cream, like my Mother drank it.” Our conversation took off from where we left off in June. 

When we parted this time, I handed him my “retirement card” with my contact information on it.

“Bud. If you need me to run errands for you give a shout. I’m not that busy that I can’t help.”

“Thank you! Jeff. So far so good. I’m still getting around.” 

“In that case, I’ll see you in August.”

Once again we shook on it.

“So if you're walking down the street sometime
And spot some hollow ancient eyes
Please don't just pass 'em by and stare
As if you didn't care, say, "Hello in there, hello"

Thank you John Prine for these words of wisdom.

Respect your Elders. One day you might be old too.

The Goodness of Gestures.

In the aftermath of my should-have-killed-me accident, I was well…depressed.

Who wouldn’t be? I was rear-ended on my bicycle by a sedan traveling at 50 MPH! It was an Uber sucker punch. 

For months I resided in a belly button to neck brace. Every part of me was sore, scarred or scabbed. Even my toenails ached. Worst of all, was the big questions. How well will I heal? Will I get my active life back or will I become the world’s first full-time nonfiction book reader? These questions and mountains of angst kept me up at night. I was in a bad state of mind.

One day, Rosie emailed me. Her message was short and sweet. (Like her) “Jeff, I made something for you. I hope it cheers you up. It’s in the mail. Keep getting better!” Of course, I thanked her beforehand. 

Eventually I reluctantly returned  to Tucson for another winter of discontent. After a session of physical therapy, I found a cardboard box at my door. I brought it inside and opened it. It was a Ride The Rockies Team Bar2Bar themed quilt! The panels were the tank tops of twenty years of my “drinkers with a bicycle riding problem” team. I sashayed backward after spreading  it out on the floor. I alternated between laughing and crying. 

I called Rosie immediately. “Rosie! This is the best gift I have ever received. Thank you so much!” I meant every word and then some.

 It took almost a year but I did heal! I spent my final winter of discontent in Tucson getting rid of stuff. I had made the decision to go “Homeless by Choice.” If it didn’t fit into Barley the Van, it was gone. I was pretty draconian on this. There were two materialistic sentimental items that made the cut.

A) Fido the porcelain pug who was gifted to me by a long lost friend. A woman who was capable of making me laugh like no other. 

B) Rosie’s Team Bar2Bar quilt. It fit nicely on my almost Queen-sized Barley the Van bed.

Both Fido and Rosie’s quilt survived those 6.5 years of my rootless existence. However, like me they aged. All four of Fido’s stubby legs have been Superglued back onto his frame. The Team Bar2Bar quilt was faded and frayed. There was no way either was going into a dumpster.

When Covid (SPIT!) struck I phoned Rosie. 

After commiserating about the misery of Covid, I got to the point. “I’d like to commission you for a second quilt. The Bar2Bar one is looking rough, but I can’t pitch it. Would you like a “stay in place” project? This time I’ll pay for your creation.” 

“Sure! I have to finish a baby quilt first, then I’ll get on it.” 

I desired a larger quilt with a National Park theme for my Durango home. She pointed me to an  Amazon site for the panels, and away we went. A little over a year later, (It took Michelangelo four years to paint the Sistine Chapel. Artistic genius takes time)  I met Rosie in May, 2021 at a post-Rockies game pub. I wandered in with a few friends as well. Rosie had already draped the quilt over a railing for all to see. I stopped to take the wonder in.. “Rosie! It’s beautiful!! You outdid yourself on this one.” Once again I meant it. Then I gave her a big squeeze hug.

And yes, I did send her a check in which she responded. “Jeff! It’s too much!” 

My reply? “Not at all, you have no idea on how much that Team Bar2Bar quilt meant to me. This is my simple way of paying you back.” 

Here’s my point. Rosie performed a gesture of goodness. She didn’t have to play Good Samaritan but she did. Here was a potential mitzvah (good deed) moment and she seized it.

There are life lessons here and I can be trained.

So now that I’m settled down in a tight community where everyone knows everybody,  but me,

I’m trying my hand at gestures of goodness. 

When a neighbor had a Buddha purloined from the front of her townhome, I instigated a local fundraiser to replace it. Marcia is still enthused about her new jolly Buddha. 

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2021/02/what-would-buddha-do.html

At a block party, I picked up an extra case of IPA to barter for Durango Food Bank donations. We netted $53 for a worthy cause.

If I hear a friend/neighbor is sick, injured or just feeling down, I’ll drop off a meal’s worth of Minnesota Soup or Sambini’s Famous Kosher Green Chili. 

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2020/01/

Will any of these deeds end poverty, bring about World Peace or curtail Climate Change? Of course not. BUT maybe someone else will notice. Then we can start a movement! I have a name picked out already.

“The Rosie Make a Quilt Good Gesture Foundation.” I nominate Rosie for CEO. 

Please consider becoming a member. 

Thanks!

Jeff

The Myth of the Bucket…

List.

In 2019, I was performing a welfare check on one of my favorite humans on the planet. Joe (AKA Trauma) was in his epilogue chapter of Stage Four liver cancer. Our conversation was anything but the usual light banter of jokes, sporting news and old memories. The overall tone was somber and forced.

In an awkward moment, Joe spoke out, “Sambini! You’d be proud of me. I finally retired!” 

“That’s great. Joe.”

“Yeah, some retirement Right?!” 

A few months later, Joe was gone. He was 62 years old. Joe’s Bucket List fit with room to spare in an urn containing his ashes.

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2019/06/parting-is-nothing-but.html?m=0

Now when I’m involved in conversations with friends or acquaintances, our dreamy future plans often takes center stage. If I hear the cliche “It’s on my bucket list” a few times AND if they are older than 50.  I’ll interject “Well, Dontcha know,  you probably have more days behind you than in front of you. What are you waiting for?

This is shocking news to many, when it’s just simple math and statistics. (The life span of Americans has been declining too. Covid made it worse). 

Please don’t get me wrong. I’m all in favor of creating travel or experience goals. (But only if you mean doing them!) In the last decade, I’ve been knocking off many: the Galápagos Islands, Machu Picchu (twice), the Camino de Santiago (twice), hiking in the Alps, the West Coast Trail on Vancouver Island, The Torrens del Paine Loop,  hiking the wild Portuguese Coast, hugging Redwoods,  getting into the Maze District (twice), finally seeing the Wave, going on an Hawaiian whale watch, and now getting into the high country of the nearby San Juan Mountains to name a few.

It was nearly a decade ago too when I became well aware of my own mortality. In July 2011,  I survived a bicycle vs. sedan collision in which three doctors assured me most cyclists would have perished. It was a life changing event. Life or death is sometimes a matter of landing just right. Apparently I  “nailed” the landing. 

This is why I abhor wasting days. As  Founding Father Thomas Jefferson said, “Never put off for tomorrow, what you can do today.” This includes Bucket Lists. 

Joe would concur.

PS. I’m currently available for Bucket List mentoring. My rates are reasonable. Happy Hour with or without dinner.

Cheers,

Jeff