AT 70 – ONE LUCKY MAN
When baseball great Lou Gehrig was dying of his now-infamous disease in 1939, he stood in Yankee Stadium, hunched, and proclaimed, “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”
If that’s not seeing the glass half full, I don’t know what is. The Iron Horse, as the pundits dubbed him, thought not so much about his impending death, but his remarkable life, his humble upbringings and his enormous athletic talent that elevated him to fame and fortune, providing love and dignity to his family. He thought about the treasure of life. After all, he figured, we all gotta die sometime, what’s the big deal?
Reminds me of that poignant poem by Linda Ellis titled, “The Dash,” which focuses on a headstone marker, denoting the year of birth and the year of death, but all that really matters is that little dash in between the years. If you’ve never read it, here it is:
I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
From the beginning to the end.
He noted that first came the date of her birth
And spoke of the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years.
For that dash represents all the time
That she spent alive on earth
And now only those who loved her
Know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we own,
The cars, the house, the cash,
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard;
Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left
That can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough
To consider what’s true and real
And always try to understand
The way other people feel.
And be less quick to anger
And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives
Like we’ve never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect
And more often wear a smile,
Remembering that this special dash
Might only last a little while.
So when your eulogy is being read
With your life’s actions to rehash
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent your dash?
As the big 7 – 0 approaches for this blogger, Ms. Ellis’ poem, and Mr. Gehrig have given me cause to pause and reflect on glass half full. What a life!
I often wondered what it would have been like to see Babe Ruth hit a baseball, Paganini play a violin, or see an opera with Enrico Caruso, or live in a time when Mozart, Beethoven, DaVinci and Michaelangelo were alive. Or, the great Abraham Lincoln, Ben Franklin, Jefferson or Columbus, Moses or even Jesus himself.
How lucky I’ve been. I may not have been there in the old days, but I’ve lived to see Tiger Woods’ golf, Pete Sampras in tennis, Jim Brown’s football runs and Nolan Ryan’s fast ball. I’ve heard Pavarotti sing Puccini arias, and witnessed the legendary acting talents of Streep, DeNiro, Bette Davis and so many more. I was there to see and hear Ezio Pinza sing “Some Enchanted Evening” in 1949 New York. I’ve met the great Jascha Heifetz and stood in the wings, awestruck, when he played the Beethoven Concerto in D Major for violin. I lived in the time of Gandhi, Churchill, Roosevelt, Hitler and Martin Luther King, Jr.and everyone else who has made a difference since April of 1939 when I entered planet Earth. I remember the Roosevelt funeral, the atom bomb, Korea and the Kennedy inaugural “Ask not” speech on a black & white television set. I was there, glued to a television set when men from my country set foot on the moon. These are people and events that will be the subject of history books in centuries to come, and I was there…so to speak.
I’ve been to famous monuments, the Louvre and other museums to witness the greatest art in the history of man. I stood in the White House, the Capitol and at the Speaker’s Box in the House of Commons. I’ve met governors, senators, and other celebrities. My views about crime in America were once sought after by members of the United States Congress.
I’ve played violin in symphonies, baseball in Babe Ruth Leagues, golf at the Doral Blue Monster, written books and had my humble opinions published in many newspapers and magazines. A stint in the Parris Island Marines and thirty years of law enforcement introduced me to every side of life known to man, the good and the bad, all of which has made me realize just how lucky I’ve been to have mind and body at my disposal, to cherish and to use.
I even managed to run a 26 mile marathon three years after quitting a four pack-a-day Pall Mall habit.
People my age have lived through some of the most significant transitions in history, socially, technologically and politically. Once, it was S.O.P. for people with darker skin to sit in a separate part of a bus, or drink from a separate water fountain. Today, it’s unthinkable. Once, people would have laughed at the concept of a black person becoming president of the United States. Those of us who were born in the 1930’s, watched the growth of technology change from file cards to computers, from a four-inch, rabbit-eared television, to i-Pods, Blackberries and plasma screens. Party lines and long distance rates are of the past. Now we can talk to anyone in the world, any time we wish, using a small hand-held device. Amazing. World travel for common people is unremarkable today, whereas it was once a phenomenon. Symphonies and concertos play in our homes and cars today, where we once had to attend concerts to enjoy such beauty of sound. Foods, fashion, housing, entertainment, medical advancements, longer life and improved health…the list is endless measuring today’s bounty. It would be beyond belief of our ancestors.
Now and then, I’ve managed to help others with their struggles, needs and ambitions…friends, family, children…and learned that giving is one of the most satisfying feelings one can ever experience. Little can match the unexpected letter from a long-lost colleague of a generation past, telling me how much I once meant to him or her. Or that surprise hug from a stranger at a library talk, telling me I changed his life forever when he was a teenager…and I didn’t even know it.
A Miami Beach bookie gave me the springboard that launched a law enforcement career and thus, a life of helping my fellow citizens live in a safer community. (or, at least, I’d like to think so) At the same time, that career provided an enormous well from which my life has been enriched with so many unique and wonderful friends.
Most of all, I have basked in the love of my French honey, (and sculptor artist) Suzanne, for twenty-two years, and of my ever-so-strong kids, now adult, who have weathered and survived some rocky roads of years past. It gladdens me to know I may have made a positive difference in their lives, somehow. And for the rocky roads, perhaps I helped them to learn the art of survival and the joy of achievement. It also gladdens me to know and enjoy my grandchildren, and that one day, I will meet my four-year-old great-granddaughter who lives in another far away state.
Sure, I’ve screwed up. Sometimes I screwed up really bad. I’ve hurt others in years past, and for that, I can only atone and try to make things better. I’ve overcome my share of adversity, only to emerge a better person, able to make others happy and to share the good things in life.
Of course, I would love to be a millionaire, though I’ve know paupers that were happier than some millionaires. And as I may ponder about material things others have, I never forget an old quotation that my best friend, Harvey Glaser, repeated almost 55 years ago:
There was a man who said… “I cried when I had no shoes, until I saw a man who had no feet.”
I don’t need a million dollars…it’s been a million dollar life.
If I were to die tomorrow, it would surely be too soon. But, anyone who would read my marker could say, “There’s a guy who didn’t waste his dash.”
Like Lou Gehrig, I am a lucky guy.
Thank you all…for being you.
Good comments on the getting old thing….I hate it on one hand, glad on the other……
I remember a conversation with my father near the end of his life and discussed all that he had witnessed in his lifetime. Your thoughts are very similar (except for the time frames).
I hate to throw cold water on these “wonderful improvements” but as a child we moved from Detroit to Miami and we took a train – I think it took two days. Now you take a jet in about three hours. But, the train was a great adventure and the jet’s a pain in the ass.
We had a party line telephone now we have cell phones. Nothing looks more ostentatious than someone walking around with one of those “ear job” cell phones who looks like he’s talking to the sky! Or, can anything be more ridiculous than a kid “texting” to another kid sitting next to him?
Bah Humbug!
God Bless.
rlc
Got a lot of the same feelings….
Dale
I,like you,feel very lucky, if not blessed. If I hadn’t flunked out of the U of F and found a job as the City of Miami mail clerk I would not have ended up with MDPD, where I stayed for 40 yrs, and I would not have ended up with a BA & a MS and I would not have met my wife. I too have seen and done alot of wonderful things in my 70yrs for which I am greatful.
My wife’s niece has ALS at 40 yrs old. She can still breath, eat, & speak on her own, but not much else. After watching her for the past 3 yrs, I’m not sure just how lucky Lou Gehrig was.
Very well written. So many times we think about what we didn’t have instead of all the good we have had. To all that we have shared, good memories. Lil Sis
Wonderfully put. You are only a few months ahead of me, and while we share many similar experiences, we also have numerous diverse. You are indeed a very lucky 70, but you are not the only one. I too have that same wonderful feeling and consider myself extremely blessed. It is wonderful that you also do.
For my good fortune I must give at least partial credit to the grandfather of a childhood Jewish friend in Miami. The Grandfather had survived German Concentration Camps. One day while talking to us he tapped me on the chest and in his thick Jewish accent said to me, “Fritzy, Fritzy, don’t ever forget. What you put in your pocket they can steal from you, but what you put in your head they can never take away.”
Fred
Happy Lucky 70 Marshall and congratulations
on your blog passing the traffic threshold
that forces you to require respondents to
register & sign in, in defense of your time.
This is of course the old sailor Ed Hensley
and I chose my main political B.S. alias,
“EdioParaUSA” as a user name on your blog.
That user name Googles’s quite well by now!
Anyway, here we both are, past 70 and both
blessed with finding a good wife in later years, not necessarily on the 1st try. I do
recall we shared in private email that each
of us married out of our class, on our last
try and for that I am grateful for us both.
In my opinoin, it does not get much better than that, for old cops or old sailors.
I have learned much from your blog Marshall.
I look forward to learning more, as we both
keep our glass “Half Full.” ~ Ed Hensley
Marshall, I know I speak for Don, too, when I say, we are lucky to have known you these past years. You have been a wonderful, loyal, inspirational friend. Thank you for all your help during this most terrible time of my life. Happy Birthday, with love and gratitude, The Argo’s
This was a great article
A wee song for ya Marshall, for your 70th!!!
The 3 Tenors – Holywood Tribute: My Way
“The 3 Tenors: In Concert 1994″ And, Old Blue Eyes is setting in the front row.
Enjoy!
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TMj4x_48GVc
I think our lives would be better and we would suffer less if we stopped trying to make ourselves happy, and instead, tried somehow to acquire a compassionate reality.
Your article has me worried….are you okay? I hope you will be around for another 30 years or more and that I will still be alive to read your articles and pester you with my bleeding-heart liberal comments.
Marshall,
Hate to tell you this pal, but you are just getting started. As Robin Williams said in the movie, “Carpe Diam”! Hope that spelling is right. In other words, seize the day! I will be 59 on my next birthday and I have so much more in life to do and I can’t do it in 11 years. So step aside pal unless you want to move along with the rest of us and go on to well past 100! You have offered so much–seen so much—lived so much—and there is so much to be thankful for—which you have expressed well—so thank the Good Lord one more time and let’s get moving—-there is much more to be experienced—much more to be learned—and much more to teach and give to those we love. And when you reach 100, maybe then you can slow down a little bit—but only for a little while.
Happy Birthday,
Bob
Marshall,
Happy Birthday and may you enjoy many more. We’ve seen a lot since our birth and since our friendship began 49 years ago.
I too feel like a very lucky man to have enjoyed my experiences and even survived a few.
Dick Ward
Wow, are you old!!!! I am aware of what you are talking about, I’ve been around for most of it. You have been a great and loyal friend and acquaintance, I consider it an honor to know you. See you at the festivities.
When my wife was pregnant with our first, my mother said “you don’t know what love is until you have children.” Forty-three years, three kids and nine grandchildren later her statement has really proven itself. That’s really what it’s all about.
Very soon you will be 70 and I will still be 69 (if only for a couple of days). Hopefully, you will remain that much older than me for many more healthy years.
Happy Birthday old man.
Marshall,
I’m spent.
Phil
Happy Birthday, my dear friend. Though I missed many years of enjoying our friendship, I am grateful to have had the first few and these last ten plus. I hope that we have many more years to speak by phone and share our thoughts electronically. How modern we are!
I hope that someday we will meet once more. I envy Harvey and all of your other friends who have watched you grow from the fellow that you were at twenty to all that you are at seventy.
A memento of our shared experiences wends its way to you even as I wish you a wonderful birthday.
May you have one hundred twenty years. Just stay out of motels in Lake Placid. We could still be The Three Vagabonds.
With great affection,
Larry
I am trying to find the poem about I cried because I had no shoes until I meet a man with no feet. Seems like it said something about a girl with eyes of blue. Do you know of it or where I can fine it? Thank You