Learning

Today we had the traditional end-of-the-year baccalaureate at the school. The faculty sat on the platform in our dark robes and colorful hoods coded for the various disciplines each has earned degrees in. The doctorates have the cool get-ups with the triple arm bands on their robes and impressive hoods. Those of us with mere master’s degrees had the more humble hoods, mostly with the generic blue and yellow color scheme. So much study and learning was represented on that platform; a fairly impressive sight for such a small school as ours.

I was reminded of my favorite synopsis of education; it is the process of moving from unknowing ignorance to knowing ignorance. All that regalia represented an awful lot of knowing how much was not known. Our respectful and appreciative soon-to-be graduates sat there eager to grab their diplomas and dash out the doors at the back and into their lives to take on all the things they now know they don’t know yet. Hopefully they learned enough lessons well enough to not be blindsided.

I’m reminded of my private pilot check ride. It was the culmination of months of lessons, study, practice, tests, dreams, and worry. And a good bit of money. I had made one mistake the FAA examiner could have busted me for. But basically I had absorbed the information and demonstrated the skill that the government decreed was necessary to be a pilot. As I taxied the plane back to the ramp, I fretted whether or not I would become a licensed pilot that day. I shut down the engine, wondering if my goal would be accomplished. The examiner started scribbling on some paperwork and said, “Son, I’m going to give you a license to go out and learn to fly.” I was thinking of this day as the end of a process. He made me realize it was the beginning. I guess that’s why we call graduation “commencement.”

Wind in the hair

New Ride

Convertible

alternate title: Patience

Well, something new and very nice has happened.

Most of the vehicles I have owned have been hand-me-downs or whatever came along that I could afford in whatever brand, model, and color they happened to be. Of the string of cars I have owned, I have been ambivalent, or downright loathing, of all but a few.

Some years ago I owned a wonderful little convertible. Everybody should own a convertible once. But I find that most people who do are not convertible people. Yesterday on my motorcycle, I saw a convertible owner I know driving along in the sunny, upper 70's noon-day weather, all outdoors begging to be inhaled, with the rag top buttoned up tight, all windows up. This is a waste of a convertible. If the top is not down on a day like this, when will it ever be? Honestly, I didn't know if I would be a convertible person. I thought I might have the top down constantly for a month or so, and then leave it up from then on, as is my observation of most convertible owners. But this was not to be the case with me. Unless it was raining, below 40 degrees, or above 100, the top would be down. I absolutely love the sky overhead. I am a convertible person. I decided soon after getting the car that I would never again be without one.

That little VW was my all time favorite car. I got it in California and it had not a speck of rust, had a comfy leather interior, and was a joy to own and operate. After a couple of years of automotive bliss it was taken from me by a careless, out of control 16 year old in a beat up Mustang who thought going 60 up a blind lane in a mall parking lot was a reasonable way to drive. He totaled my spiffy car right out from under me. Thoughts went through my mind that maybe God decided I just loved that car too much. Maybe I did. Well, I lost no time finding a replacement on which to spend the insurance settlement. But my wife had transportation needs that took us in a different direction. And seven or so years went by with only dreams of a convertible in my driveway.

Recently, I came across another one. It had been highly modified with a special motor - something I had long thought would be a great project to do. Though the most difficult work was done, it needed quite a bit more work to turn it from an autocross racer into a reasonably comfortable daily driver. I was hot to go for it, and the price was very attractive. But my wife was not comfortable with the deal. Her main issue was all the time in the garage it would take me to get it into the kind of shape we would need. I was heartbroken, but once I had moved us into a car without her blessing, and I vowed to never do that again. Nothing is worth the sorrow caused by that. So, I exercised my will, beat down my emotions, and let it go.

A few months later, in the course of our crazy life, we found ourselves inheriting a nice car, but one we never would have chosen. I was able to sell it in short order, which was surprising. One evening, while dropping off something at the home of one of my wife's friends, I spied a nice Sebring convertible in their driveway. My wife casually mentioned that she thought they were selling it. They were. And the price was exactly what we got out of the other car. I drove it one afternoon and fell in love. But my wife had concerns. I didn't push it. I was ready to let go again. But she drove it yesterday and fell in love too! So the decision was made. We are buying the car. That's the good news. The bad news is that I may never get to drive it! But finding something we both like a lot is, as the Master Card people say, "priceless." Get out the sunscreen, Baby. Let's drop that top and go! Mind if I drive once?

Aftermath

I was going to call this "back to normal" but I don't think I can remember what normal is supposed to be like. My wife is home but rather zoned out from her experience. There are repercussions that she didn't foresee and you can never go back to the way things were before. Life throws bad and good at you. You have to absorb, adjust, deal with the difficult, and enjoy the new good things. Some are an acquired taste. But when you become able to appreciate, they can be sublime. So we step into the new, trusting that we can live with it, hoping that we will enjoy it and thrive. Welcome home, my love.

Lonely Tears

you cry
I cry
the friends you love
you cannot have
the friend you have
you cannot love
together
we cry
alone