By
the time I was twenty-three, I was married and already had two little
ones who had captured my heart. I wanted to give them the world,
which meant providing for their every need and desire in life. I was
intent on providing them with all the things I never had. That’s
what a father does; he lives vicariously through his children.
Everyone who becomes a father dreams of their children having a
wonderful and very successful life. Maybe my little girl would be a
Miss America, and my little boy, a major league baseball player.
Meanwhile, I just wanted to make them happy.
The
truth is, I was scared to death. How was I ever going to provide for
a family? I was still a kid myself. I remember those long drives to
my office every morning. Many of the drives to work were a blur. I
felt so much pressure that my mind would race faster than the car's
engine. I was going to school at night, pushing myself to get an
accounting degree. That is what the tests I took told me, the ones
that my boss, Mr. McDonald arranged for me. They said that I would
make a good accountant, so I finished those hours first, along with
several other business classes. I was a straight-A student. Nothing
else would be good enough. I was a young man in a hurry. In a hurry
to get that high-paying job, so I could support my little family the
way they, we all, deserved.
Pressure
came early in my life, and with it a few health problems, one being a
nervous stomach, and ultimately an ulcer. I remember Doctor Southard
saying, “You are too young to have an ulcer, Jimmy. Relax. What
do you do for fun?” I told him I didn't have time for fun, and
sorry to say, that was the complete truth. Young man in a hurry, and
I was in such a big hurry that I changed jobs because the one I moved
to paid $50 more per month. Of course, $50 in the nineteen sixties
was pretty big money, but the truth is, I saw more opportunity in
that job. I simply could earn more money, quickly. Quick was
important to me back then, but now, that all has changed. When you
get on the back side of life, you are pumping the brakes, not the
gas.
Isn't
the contrast funny, though? Most kids are in a hurry to get their
driver's license, to graduate high school, then college, so they can
get a good-paying job. Then, when they get a job, they want a better
one, one that pays more, so they can make more money to buy that
house they want, that sports car, that vacation to Europe,
etc.
When we are young, we are always looking for more quickly, so we can
fulfill our dreams, and we want it now. We learn so much during this
process, but I must wonder if we will ever be able to use that
knowledge constructively, to live without leaving skid marks as we
“squeal away” toward that next thing. Maybe the knowledge
we gain can be used to guide our youth by teaching them the things to
avoid in life. But what’s the use? We know they will not
listen, because we didn’t listen either. Young people think we
are stupid, and they prefer we stay out of their lives.
Ultimately,
I gained my balance, but I was much older when I did. I would
recommend starting a family a little later than I did. In all the
hurry to get ahead, I am sure I missed some important things, even
though I tried my best not to. Of course, there are some major
benefits to starting young. One big one that comes to mind is my
first “great” grandchild, sweet little Nora. How many
guys get to be a great-grandfather while alive? I should look that
up; I'll bet the percentage is on the low side.
That's
not to say we old dudes quit dreaming. That is just not true.
However, usually our dreams are a bit tamer. For example, for the
longest time I had been wanting a 75” TV and a great sound
system, so I could watch the sports that I can no longer play (and
some of which I have never heard). So, I bought one, and I would have
gotten a larger one, but our family room could not accommodate it. I
thought about how I could make the room larger, you know, knock out
this wall and extend that one a bit, or maybe decide which pieces of
furniture to… Well… no. No, that would not work.
I'm kidding. Then, I thought, how about a separate media room? We
live in a pretty big house, just the two of us, but every room is in
full use. How could that be? After all, there are just the two of us.
I could see myself explaining it to Teresa, and I could see the big
question mark on her face as she listened to my rambling. I didn’t
even want to explore it. I know who the boss is in this house. Then I
thought about the basement. It is unfinished, and it's large, but it
has more stuff in it than the upstairs. Besides, I don’t need
another set of steps to climb, not at my age. I just had to settle
for that “small” 75” screen in the family room. Ah,
can’t you just hear that basketball bouncing on the floor? - It
truly is a wonderful sound, only to be topped by that great
“SWISHING” sound when the ball is shot from beyond the
three-point line. And the crowd sound. Wow! With proper sound
equipment, you can hear someone in row thirty-one shouting at the
referee. I mean, clearly, every word. Children are not allowed when I
have that thing cranked up. And movies? No need to go to the theater
any longer, except if it’s just a night out away from the
house, and all the things left to do there, both inside and out. But
I did something else that most guys my age would never think to do.
This pertains to something I wanted in my youth, but could not
afford.
The
most beautiful car I have ever seen came off the production line in
1965; well, it did show up as a ’64&1/2, but the ’65,
that thing was beautiful. It was that little Ford Mustang
convertible. That 289 V8, with dual exhaust and glass-packed
mufflers, and a sweet, unmistakable, rumbling sound. Oh, and with the
convertible top, back, and covered by a red boot. It looked fast even
when parked, and it was $2,800 I didn’t have at age
twenty-four, so I watched as my friend Kenny drove by in one, honking
and waving. “Thank you, Kenny!” There are some things you
must give up when you are a young father, so I became content to see
one drive by (as long as it wasn't that smartass, Kenny). But I never
forgot the feeling I had when I saw it that very first one.
So,
flash forward a few years. While on Facebook one day (I always look
at the Marketplace segment), there it was. For sale, a 1965 Mustang
Convertible, Wilmington white, with a white top to match, and a solid
red interior. It was beautiful, but at my age, it seemed too late to
dream, so I moved on and looked at all the guitars for sale. But I
did not really need another guitar. Guys, you know, I mean, I know
you can never have enough of them, but I have seven, maybe eight,
which seems enough. I kept returning to that white Mustang, and
finally I turned to my lovely wife, Teresa, and said, “How
would you like to go see this Mustang I found on Facebook?” The
answer was the one I was looking for, “Yes.” No more
encouragement needed. So, I made the appointment.
We
would only go by to see it, then we would drive away, leaving it
behind, as well as my age-old dream of owning one. We surely were not
seriously interested in it.
Well,
the man who had this beauty for sale asked me if I'd like to drive
it. Duh! And so, I did. Just a short ride, but a meaningful one.
Today, we belong to the local Mustang Club and have sincerely enjoyed
riding in it on beautiful days and special events. Funny thing, I
asked the man, Roger, who was selling it, “Why are you selling
your Mustang?” He said, “I am retiring, selling my
construction business, along with several other things. The Mustang
is one of them; I hate to see it go, but I have had my fun with it.
After all, I'm getting older, and I no longer have the energy I once
had.” I stopped and took a long look at him, a really good
look, and I judged him to be about seventy years old. I was almost
ten years older than him, and here I was about to buy his dream, to
fulfill mine. So, I said, “We all have dreams, but not always
at the same time. I remember when the Mustang came out, and I bet you
do too. Those were the days, Eh, Roger?”
Contact
James (Unless
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