Secure Your Loved Ones

She was getting up in years, slowing down a bit, had a few scars here and there like we all do, but I had hoped we’d be able to spend a few more good years together before she’d need to go to one of those places where all old girls eventually end up. We’d had what I guess you’d call a “quality relationship”, never demanding too much from each other as the years took their toll. I wasn’t as agile or quick, as I once was and she seemed to know that, backing off at the right time and making life easier for both of us.

She had no idea what had been going through my mind for several years, a secret that was easy to keep because of the hurt I knew one of us would experience when the truth came out. She deserved better; Shoot! We both deserved better. I’ll admit I had been looking around, feeling my secret was safe as I had visited “those” places when she had no idea as to my whereabouts. They all looked the same. Newness wherever one looked and temptation where there should have been guilt. I had also seen what was at the end of the line for both of us. Security fences, hopelessness, a feeling that our best years were behind us and whatever happened was out of our control. The stench of worn out parts that could never be replaced, even with today’s modern technology. Worn out old girls and others who looked as though they wondered what in the world happened, and how they ended up in such a place as they yearned for their youth.

The last time I had seen her she was sitting under a palm tree in the front yard. She looked as good as the first day we met; I can take a little credit for that, having spent many a weekend seeing to her every need, making sure she was full, and ready for another day of discovery and adventure. I drove off feeling good, knowing we’d be together again, taking in the beach, the bay and visiting places only she and I had been. She liked to follow, preferring I lead the way on our travels, and I was perfectly ok with that. Leading was just not one of her things and I never heard her complain a single time about where we went. She followed me day or night, sometimes in the rain to mosquito infested campgrounds or down dirt roads leading to a lake where we could relax and find some solitude from the world of work. She was always perfectly content to just be there, near the truck, near me.

Sometimes (on rare occasions) I would feel the need, a burning desire actually, to lock her up in order to make sure no one but me would be able to enjoy her company. In fact on this particular day I had chained her to a tree. Oh, I know that sounds cruel, maybe even inhumane but it seemed the right thing to do at the time and she never before complained about the restriction. Maybe it made her feel safer. Well, some low rent scalawag took it upon himself to cut that chain, haul her off to the woods, cover her with pine straw and steal her identity! She was my Sea Doo and if not for the beach police, she would probably be in a hundred different pieces by now or floating in a river south of the border. A good Samaritan discovered her, languishing on her trailer in a most disreputable part of town. I asked the police why anyone would want to steal something obviously loved and cared for by another person and they replied, “Because they could.” Secure your loved ones folks, these are hard economic times.

Equal Opportunity VS. Distribution of Wealth (A Battle for the Heart of America)

There are some very simple reasons as to how we went from a philosophy of equal opportunity to the re-distribution of wealth and they involve work ethic, vision, common sense and yes, the environment into which we are born. Years ago I commuted to Middle Georgia College from Warner Robins. We would take the road out of Bonaire, seven bridges I believe it was called, and on to Cochran, for a day of classes and then make the drive back. Quite often, when the season was right, we would see a young fellow on the back of a large tractor plowing a field in Bonaire. His name was Sonny Perdue and he came from a successful family. He could have been content with mediocrity, just doing what he needed to do to get by, inherit whatever there was to inherit ETC. but we all know what became of that young man. His inheritance was work ethic, among other things and it probably came from someone who raised him.

It’s hard to put your finger on work ethic because it’s usually instilled early in life and can take unfortunate forms. For instance, I can work very hard at being a thief. Some find it by listening to and watching a hard working relative, or serving in the military, where not working can sometimes find one in the brig. Unfortunately there are no games found on the Blue Ray that teach work ethic. So while you can have equal opportunity, unless you have work ethic, you really have nothing as your opportunity will surely slip away. But ol’ Sonny had something else that’s probably as important as work ethic and that was a vision. I suspect it came from a lot of different sources I.E. parents, teachers, church folks, mentors. Someone gave him a realistic vision of what he could become and he ran with it. Visions are difficult to come by if the people around you have never had one because they don’t know any more than you.

Most successful people were given a vision by another successful person. You can define success. Equal opportunity without a vision is waste because one hasn’t a clue as to how to put the opportunity to use and cannot get on “the road to success”, so to speak. Visions ideally come early in life when one is preparing for a life’s work. Now common sense will tell you that if you don’t have work ethic and a vision and someone comes along with a check…you’d better darn well take it, opportunity be damned. There may not be another one coming along for a while. And yes, our environment contributes to all of it.

For instance, if I grow up with a mother who shoplifts at Wal-Mart, then comes home and brags about the great day she had at “work”. I begin to believe that to be the way to success. I cannot wait to put my work ethic to “good” use by doing what mom does, perhaps even improving on her methods. Would you like to call that culture? Doesn’t make it right but it becomes “normal” for me and I consider myself a success as a shoplifter with all the important self-esteem that entails.

How we have slowly gone from the idea of equal opportunity to the idea of re-distribution of wealth involves opinion. The majority opinion is slowly coming around to the idea that, because some have no means of obtaining monetary success in any other way, they might as well take what those who were given the work ethic and vision have accumulated.

If we applied this to the Olympics we would simply allow the best athletes to continue to do what they do, train for years, sacrifice time, money and friends until they receive their medal and then melt the thing down for those who came up short where all would share the reward. Where would the incentive to train and work hard come from for those who are work ethically challenged (new term), if they knew in the end the rewards would be shared regardless of effort?  When certain values are not present I will take a guaranteed check over opportunity every time and when work ethically challenged people with no vision become the majority, things are going to get interesting. And we are very close.   

Hello Neighbor!

Ever had a “helpful neighbor”; One who has each and every one of your concerns on their mind twenty-four seven? My ninety year old mother has one of these living near her home in Florida. We’ve been doing some work lately on her fifties home and he’s been observing from a distance but curiosity got the best of him the other day when we were putting down some sod. About an hour into the laying of the stuff, here he comes; Big grin, cup of coffee (it was early) and about to burst with suggestions as to the laying of the sod. Now I had never seen him lay a single piece of this stuff, and he mostly observes what we’re doing, but when a guy walks up with a big ol’ cup of coffee and a grin you feel obligated to give him an ear. I had laid sod before, front and back yard, so I considered myself somewhat of an expert in getting the stuff laid, but one can always get better at what they do and I could tell that if he didn’t get this thing off his chest his health was at risk.

I will admit the back yard is once again a litter box but I blame this on my mother’s lack of watering skills, and the wild cats someone insists on feeding… not sod placement.  So here comes “Mr. Home and Gardens” with the first words out of his mouth being, not, “good morning” but, “You know you’re going to have to put a lot of water on that.”  I wanted so much to say, “Duh” but I smiled and said, “Really?” This elevated “Mr. GreenJeans “got to help quotient” to the next level and in the next few minutes, and while I keep on hauling the sod he suggests re-designing the front yard. “Your sprinkler will need to go about there.” Right. “You can get a splitter and attach it to a couple of cheap hoses. Put it where the bird bath sits.”

Sure. Sweat, sand and dirt are running down my glasses as I visualize moving the hundred pound block of cement called a birdbath. “It wouldn’t hurt to fertilize, but not too much. It looks like this grass could use some iron.” The price of a palate of sod just went up. “Looks like you’ve got some weeds in that. You’ll need to mow with the blower pointing outward to prevent weed seeds from taking over.” I suppose I could pull up what I’ve laid and request weed-less sod but…naw, we’re going with weeds, at least they’re green. Mulching is obviously out of the question. “They carry all that stuff at Lowes, you know.” Me having all the attention deficit problems of today’s eight year old, I am in no way going to a Lowes to become more confused. Some days I feel as though I just learned how to drive. “You look like you could use some water.” First sensible thing you’ve said all morning my friend. Something, perhaps a moment of divine inspiration, causes him to look up and what does he see?! “That roof’s gonna need replacing soon.” Like I said, Mom’s ninety and our definition of “soon” is a whole lot later than his; probably in the area of not in this lifetime. Then “Mr. Peepers” comes up with the crown jewel of his morning presentation. I suppose it may have been the reason for his visit in the first place.

 I’d been at it several hours by now and was probably dehydrated, causing hallucinations, because I thought I heard him say, “Oh, by the way, I’ve installed a security system with lights that should cover your yard too!” Guess we can get rid of the neighbor watch volunteers but we’ll definitely lock the doors. Thank goodness he finished his coffee about the time he got into his own home improvement plan. The man loves coffee and we don’t so he went home and I sent mom to Lowes for a splitter.

Officer Friendly to the Rescue

Sometimes you see them parked by the roadside, or maybe giving a well-deserved ticket, checking the car-born computer or talking with a pedestrian. They wear different uniforms, some blue, some white, some coat and tie. They are the Panama City Beach Police and they do a terrific job.


I had the good fortune to meet one the other day named Officer Gillman. He’s a big fellow with red hair and a nice demeanor. He answered a call to our house at the beach concerning a missing watercraft. Filling out the report, I asked him how many of those things he had recovered in the past and he said his record was perfect — “none.”

We laughed … or I did. He just looked sort of sad, as if he wished it were not true, but they tend to get away quickly when missing. I figured I’d seen the last of my old friend, the WaveRunner, as it was going on 10 and probably couldn’t find its way home if it had to. Gillman and I parted company after the report and I tried not to think about the rest of the weekend and summer without being able to get out on the water.

A few hours later he called. “Mr. Harmon, I have some good news,” he said. “I’m standing next to your WaveRunner!”

Actually he’d been there for a while, questioning folks, getting necessary information, etc., and it was hot. I said I could be there in a few minutes, not thinking about how long he had already been there, and he said that would be fine. Keep in mind this WaveRunner is an old boy, not much to look at, but still runs pretty darn good.

A good Samaritan walking his dog had phoned in a tip and Officer Gillman had wasted no time in locating my old friend. When I arrived, Gillman could have said, “Well, there it is, take care, good luck, see ya later!” But he didn’t do that. He actually helped me and a friend push that thing from the woods back to the road where we could attach it to a truck. And, like I said, it was hot.

So, just a word of thanks to a great person, a young person who means a lot to the community of Panama City Beach. I hope he stays safe, and if you see a big, red-headed guy in a police car, probably with a smile on his face and a ready wave, wish him well. He’s there for you, too.