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| Actually cooking hamburgers outside on a coffee can - ain't modern technology great? |
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| This is my 'Looking Up' wall collage in progress I spoke of yesterday. |
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| Radiation every weekday for seven weeks |
Maybe not so much at first, perhaps. On this day, 61 years ago, I lost my coveted spot as an only child. I was now, one of two. A fifty percent drop in Love Futures. I had all the spotlight for three and a half years and now had to relinquish half the spot on stage. It took me years to recover.
Despite my sister's innate talent for upstaging me for the next fourteen years until I couldn't take it anymore and ran away - to college, we have since become rather good friends, although still a bit competitive.
She got straight A's in school (maybe not, but that is what she would have everyone believe), and I did OK (whoa!!!...just noticed how the abbreviated spelling for OKAY is the same as the abbreviation for our home state of Oklahoma...like Twilight Zone or something - di di di di), but not quite that well. This is a small enlightening example of the powers of creative writing with a glass of Merlot and the clock hands at midnight....
My Mom always made me have painful direct eye contact with her during all lectures, while my "cuter than a button" (what the hell does that mean, anyway) sister stood behind me, sweetly interrupting, to yet again, prove beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she was indeed the golden child. To not lose the dreaded eye contact with my Mom, I developed the ability to swivel my head 360 degrees rapidly, so I could glare the black-stare-of-impending death at my sister behind me and still get my head back around quickly. so as not to have my Mom notice and hereby extend the penalty of extended lecture time. 
She had the First child to make my mom a grandmother. I provided the First grandson. She had three girls. I had three boys AND a girl. I got to be a grandfather, now she is about to be a grandmother...this should slow down the getting-old jokes. How old do we need to be to stop the madness....
However, I did spend my 61st recovering from months of Cancer radiation/chemo treatment with an encouraging JOKE card (that is how we spell LOVE in our family) EVERY SINGLE DAY from my sister (when a lot of friends stopped checking in on me at all), wistfully looking at a huge poster of hundreds of hot-air balloons lifting off over the Napa valley and a gift certificate from my sister to me to take the trip when fully recovered. At that time, I might not have seemed a sound financial investment, but she made it anyway...I couldn't let her down...so, I recovered and took the flight. |
| Ian, Kyan, Zak, Grandpa |
There will be many more posts coming down the road on the theme of my thankfulness for each of my outstanding children. 
The ancients did a far better job, handing down from generation to generation, memories captured in song, dance and wall art. Some families have a family historian. Most don't. My sister is ours. That said, I suspect we have more information on our fathers and father's father, than we do on our current generation. 
Scraps of seemingly ordinary paper, are mementos and instant memory enhancers to be treasured, not necessarily forever, as some items may mean nothing to my children and my grandchildren, but certainly for me in my lifetime.
ROBERT WELTON REMEMBERS on YouTube. Now, my grandchildren can see me and hear me and have a sense of who I was, perhaps bring me a little closer to their heart. When I am no longer on this side, perhaps those that knew me might check into the legacy from time to time. I know if my Mom had done this, I would likely visit daily. Just sayin'.
From a FRIEND I've known for almost 50 years...how grateful I am...we should all be so lucky.
It sounds like a simple little thing, but I don't have conscious thoughts about it much. Until it rains with the temps in the high 30's and the wind gusting up to 40 MPH. We don't have a mansion nor a hovel. Some have a cardboard box down by the river. This is not a night I would want to be out in the elements. I am especially grateful for the home I have.
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| Cohasset, CA 1979 |
| When I'm Sixty Four (64) ~ The Beatles
When I get older losing my hair, Many years from now. Will you still be sending me a valentine Birthday greetings bottle of wine. If I'd been out till quarter to three Would you lock the door, Will you still need me, will you still feed me, When I'm sixty-four. You'll be older too, And if you say the word, I could stay with you. I could be handy, mending a fuse When your lights have gone. You can knit a sweater by the fireside Sunday mornings go for a ride. Doing the garden, digging the weeds, Who could ask for more. Will you still need me, will you still feed me, When I'm sixty-four. Every summer we can rent a cottage, In the Isle of Wight, if it's not too dear We shall scrimp and save Grandchildren on your knee Vera, Chuck & Dave Send me a postcard, drop me a line, Stating point of view Indicate precisely what you mean to say Yours sincerely, wasting away Give me your answer, fill in a form Mine for evermore Will you still need me, will you still feed me, When I'm sixty-four. |
A knock is heard on the green room door. "Almost time Mr. Welton, almost time." (the 'green room' is where the actors gather and prepare before their entrance on to the stage).
The first set was words. An auto-man computer voice made in Czechoslovakia would say random words and I would repeat back what I thought I heard. Most of it was guess work. Window pane was actually cellophane, etc. I did not score so well.
