Born: January 22, 1997
Died: June 9, 2008
If you’d like to view one of the last photographs I took of him you can visit my photoblog.
This is the direct link to Berlin
What a week I’ve had and it’s only Wednesday? I met this person who has got to be the essence of every bad trait you’ve ever hated rolled into one walking specimen of human flesh. I had to smile just a little after writing that sentence.
The first time I ever met this person, they kept asking questions about people in this town who they admire. Now, I personally have no use for the people they admire. It would appear this person is impressed by money, and money doesn’t impress me. It’s not that I don’t like to have the things that money can buy, but I learned a long time ago if money can solve your problems, you don’t have problems.
I’ve always heard and used the term ‘name-droppers’, but I just ran a search for it and found this definition:
when someone talks about famous people they have met, often pretending they know them better than they really do, in order to appear more important and special
I for one have always been a person who tells it like it is. For the most part people don’t like that, and as is the norm for me I learned it the hard way. Here’s the thing though. Having lived many places and having met many people in a variety of circumstances I’ve found no matter where you go, people are pretty much the same. It’s like they never got out of what I refer to as a, “let’s just be in the third grade” mentality.
There have been times in my life when I lived in very humble conditions and there have been times when I made and lost more money than some people will ever make in a life time. I’ve given my autograph to friends and strangers on my CD, and at other times I’ve been looked at like I didn’t deserve to breathe air. It didn’t take me very long to see what made the difference.
A vast majority of people judge a book by its cover. What kind of car you drive, where you live, and what you wear determines how most people treat you. Oh, and who you know. We can’t forget the name-droppers.
I’ve always been the same person. When I looked poor, and was, and when I looked well to do, and really wasn’t, but was just a little better off financially, people treated me differently. Don’t kid a kidder. I can see right through people like that and I don’t have any use for them and their kind. It’s that third grade mentality. They are children walking about in the bodies of adults.
I march to a different drum than the average person especially when it comes to how I measure a person. Money, status, cars, houses, clothes, age; these are not the things I use as a measuring stick. I look in their eyes. I watch their movements, I listen to what they say and I can spot a phony a mile away and once I have them pegged, I stay out of their path.
I read one time that some people are toxic to us, meaning they will trigger hurt or anger in us and when we find out who those toxic people are it’s best just to steer clear of them in order to cushion ourselves so they don’t drag us down. I’m learning, but it’s a long process especially when I’ve found that some of the people I want to love the most turn out to be toxic people.
“I love those who can smile in trouble, who can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection. ‘Tis the business of little minds to shrink, but they whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves their conduct, will pursue their principles unto death.”
- Thomas Paine
observation 1,757
Seeing her lying there after the death angel had visited it was difficult to fathom that she was but one year older than me. I didn’t know her, but she was born and raised within 50 miles of my own roots.
What had transpired in her life to bring this premature death? Had circumstances been piled on top of her shoulders one after another each one weighing her down just a little more affecting her decision making process until she was too far to get back?
Her children and grandchildren stood quietly as the bitterly cold wind whipped around them chilling their already cold spirits. I could see the desire to escape the graveside in their eyes. The deep hurt was also present there in addition to the mournful expression that was to be expected. Why didn’t our grandparents love our Mother? It was a question I could see as if it were tangible; a question that will most likely go unanswered.
This body, once a pink baby held in the arms of loving parents with such promise for the future was no more. As I pen these words on a piece of scrap paper before the scene disappears from my mind she is lying alone in a casket in an empty cemetery awaiting those who will place her in the ground under the cold, grey sky.