LAST EVENING I HAD A WONDERFUL WALK IN OUR LOCAL CORONA PARK!
~ This is a large, well maintained park which includes two full
softball fields large enough that one end of each field can also
be used as a soccer field. And at the top of our park there are
two basketball half courts, two tennis courts, and a large
kiddie playground. The park has two rather good sized parking
lots, one on the south-western side and another on the
north-western side.
And at the top of the park (eastern side) is a bench where I love to sit and greet folks, and when given an opportunity, chat with folks. Walking to the park I get my walking exercise - 1/2 mile to the park and 1/2 mile home. And in between I have the pleasure of people watching and often chatting. Funny some of the things I have noticed. Before the holiday season, as I watched people walk by, and unless they turn their attention away so that I know they do not want to greet me (which at that time happened very seldom), I would offer a smile and a greeting.
After the Christmas / New Year holiday, I noticed a number of people, both female and male, as they walked by would look away and were carrying a type of stick seemingly for protection. I never noticed that before the holiday - so I had to wonder why. I recognize the purpose because for years I used to carry a fiber golf club handle when I walked.
I joked it was to protect me from animals, 4 leg and 2 leg. I had seen stray dogs in my walks, but when a time came that an angry homeless man began to stalk me, I could not use it. I merely stopped and asked him if I could pray for him. He stopped screaming and said in a meek voice, "Yes." I held his shoulder, prayed for him, then hugged him. He softly said, "That is what I wanted" and walked away. So, yes, I recognize when a person walking is carrying a defensive stick.
The people I met on these recent walks is why my trip to the park last evening was so rewarding. On the south-western side of the park, by the batter's box of each softball diamond, are the restrooms. And in that area are several picnic tables. The previous night as I was walking to my favorite bench, I noticed a group of young guy playing chess. And last night that same group was there, so I stopped to watch.
There was an older gentleman in a wheel chair, the grandfather of the chess player, and he and I started chatting. Then pretty soon we all were having fun talking and laughing. The older gentleman was a Vietnam vet, whose brother had been in the Korean War. When I told them I am a Korean vet - that told everyone that I was the oldest in the crowd. Darn, and I was so sure I hid that fact.
One of the young guys who joined us brought his girlfriend - and we found out that even though they both played chess, she could beat him. Pretty soon we had her matched against the guy who owned the set.
One of the younger guys mentioned how ridiculous all this racial division in America is today. Oh, by the way, did I mention they were all black, except for one other middle-aged gentleman who had been playing and was leaving as I joined the group. The funny thing about that was that as he and his son were leaving I noticed that each had lots of tattoos on their neck and arms. Noticing that all the others in the group were black, my first thought was, "Some folks would mistake these two for White Supremacist, but obviously they are not."
Big deal, who cares? The people there didn't, nor did I. One thing that really touched me was that when the older gentleman and I were talking and shared our time in service - each of the younger people stopped what they were doing and came over to shake our hands and say, "Thank you for your service." That truly touched my heart, for coming home from Korea, we really did not have it bad - but our people returning from Vietnam were treated very badly. That was thanks to the Leftist Socialist Movement in America during the 1960/70s - led by many college professors and Socialist rabble-rousers.
But I did share with them my story about my friend in Korea, Bob White, who for our whole year we there was my best friend. We had our bunks side by side with his record player in between. And we kept the air filled with good jazz music - except for when one guy decided he was going to drown our music out with his country/western. That is when I pulled out my Mario Lanza album. Guess who won?
Anyway, I shared with the group how when Bob and I were shipping out, coming home to America, we were at the terminal at Osan AB, Korea, waiting for our flight to Japan. Since we were both being stationed at Bergstrom AFB, Austin, Texas - Bob told me, "Bill, you know when we get back to the states, we will not be able to run around together." Suddenly I knew what he was saying was true. And that made me angry, not at Bob - but at America and our American society of 1957.
Imagine, here we have been good friends, one a white boy going home to 1957 Alabama, the other a black boy heading for 1957 Detroit. And it was the black boy, Bob White, who realized and faced the fact that we both could serve our country in a foreign land - but we could not be free to be friends back in America, the supposed land of freedom, the freedom we were serving to protect.
Bergstrom AFB was a large base, so Bob and I did not run into one another, especially after I transferred from the F-86 Airborne Radar/Gunsight System group to another group where I was an F-100 Flight Simulator Technician. Fast forward a bunch of years - and I found out that Robert "Bob" White was a founding member of MoTown's Funk Brothers band. You cannot imagine how happy that made me, to know that Bob had achieved his goal of becoming a professional musician - especially a founding member of MoTown's house band, the Funk Brothers.
Later I continued my walk through the park to my favorite bench on the north-eastern side of the park. The park has several walking paths - one that circles the entire park, and two other that cut through and only circle the two softball fields. My favorite bench is situated right at the point where all three meet - and allows me to greet lots of folks and, on occasion, chat with them.
That evening when I got to my "Bill Gray Greeter's Bench" - a gentleman named Anthony was already there. And to be honest I could not tell if he was homeless or not. He did not appear homeless, but today, in the Booming Biden Economy, that can happen so quickly that is hard to tell sometimes. My clue was that he had several backpacks with him.
Anyway we started chatting and I found that he had worked on the railroad, in the oil fields, and on the oil pipeline - until Biden put them out of business - with the same Executive Order which took away America's Energy Independence - which President Trump had given us following decades of our dependence on the fluctuations of the OPEC Oil Cartel. Now Biden has us totally dependent again on OPEC oil and Russian oil. Does that give you a comfortable feeling?
Anthony did not seem overly bitter, just somewhat disappointed. And all I could tell him was to stick it out until we can vote President Trump back into office in 2024. He and I must have talked for about an hour. And I shared with him how in 1958 God's perfect timing had given me a lifelong career in the computer industry.
And after 12 years in the technical side of the computer industry as a Field Engineer, I moved into sales and marketing for another 35+ years - leaving me in later years to weigh that decision. As a Field Engineer I was doing so well that I had to wonder how high I could have risen if I had stayed. But on the other hand, even though often unstable, the sales/marketing side gave me many exciting experiences.
Throughout my career, both in Field Engineering and in Sales/Marketing, I have worked with and been involved in so many challenging and exciting experiences and people. As I weigh that long ago decision, I am reminded of a 2005 song by George Jones which I paraphrase slightly, "On one hand I count the reasons I should stay - but on the other hand." And that is how I view my long career and my changing ships in midstream.
Yet I have learned over the years to not worry about what could have been, only to thank God for what has been. And one great blessing is that everyone in my immediate family, California and Alabama, are believers and will be stuck with me for eternity. God is good, and always right.
God bless, have a wonderful, blessed day,
Bill
And at the top of the park (eastern side) is a bench where I love to sit and greet folks, and when given an opportunity, chat with folks. Walking to the park I get my walking exercise - 1/2 mile to the park and 1/2 mile home. And in between I have the pleasure of people watching and often chatting. Funny some of the things I have noticed. Before the holiday season, as I watched people walk by, and unless they turn their attention away so that I know they do not want to greet me (which at that time happened very seldom), I would offer a smile and a greeting.
After the Christmas / New Year holiday, I noticed a number of people, both female and male, as they walked by would look away and were carrying a type of stick seemingly for protection. I never noticed that before the holiday - so I had to wonder why. I recognize the purpose because for years I used to carry a fiber golf club handle when I walked.
I joked it was to protect me from animals, 4 leg and 2 leg. I had seen stray dogs in my walks, but when a time came that an angry homeless man began to stalk me, I could not use it. I merely stopped and asked him if I could pray for him. He stopped screaming and said in a meek voice, "Yes." I held his shoulder, prayed for him, then hugged him. He softly said, "That is what I wanted" and walked away. So, yes, I recognize when a person walking is carrying a defensive stick.
The people I met on these recent walks is why my trip to the park last evening was so rewarding. On the south-western side of the park, by the batter's box of each softball diamond, are the restrooms. And in that area are several picnic tables. The previous night as I was walking to my favorite bench, I noticed a group of young guy playing chess. And last night that same group was there, so I stopped to watch.
There was an older gentleman in a wheel chair, the grandfather of the chess player, and he and I started chatting. Then pretty soon we all were having fun talking and laughing. The older gentleman was a Vietnam vet, whose brother had been in the Korean War. When I told them I am a Korean vet - that told everyone that I was the oldest in the crowd. Darn, and I was so sure I hid that fact.
One of the young guys who joined us brought his girlfriend - and we found out that even though they both played chess, she could beat him. Pretty soon we had her matched against the guy who owned the set.
One of the younger guys mentioned how ridiculous all this racial division in America is today. Oh, by the way, did I mention they were all black, except for one other middle-aged gentleman who had been playing and was leaving as I joined the group. The funny thing about that was that as he and his son were leaving I noticed that each had lots of tattoos on their neck and arms. Noticing that all the others in the group were black, my first thought was, "Some folks would mistake these two for White Supremacist, but obviously they are not."
Big deal, who cares? The people there didn't, nor did I. One thing that really touched me was that when the older gentleman and I were talking and shared our time in service - each of the younger people stopped what they were doing and came over to shake our hands and say, "Thank you for your service." That truly touched my heart, for coming home from Korea, we really did not have it bad - but our people returning from Vietnam were treated very badly. That was thanks to the Leftist Socialist Movement in America during the 1960/70s - led by many college professors and Socialist rabble-rousers.
But I did share with them my story about my friend in Korea, Bob White, who for our whole year we there was my best friend. We had our bunks side by side with his record player in between. And we kept the air filled with good jazz music - except for when one guy decided he was going to drown our music out with his country/western. That is when I pulled out my Mario Lanza album. Guess who won?
Anyway, I shared with the group how when Bob and I were shipping out, coming home to America, we were at the terminal at Osan AB, Korea, waiting for our flight to Japan. Since we were both being stationed at Bergstrom AFB, Austin, Texas - Bob told me, "Bill, you know when we get back to the states, we will not be able to run around together." Suddenly I knew what he was saying was true. And that made me angry, not at Bob - but at America and our American society of 1957.
Imagine, here we have been good friends, one a white boy going home to 1957 Alabama, the other a black boy heading for 1957 Detroit. And it was the black boy, Bob White, who realized and faced the fact that we both could serve our country in a foreign land - but we could not be free to be friends back in America, the supposed land of freedom, the freedom we were serving to protect.
Bergstrom AFB was a large base, so Bob and I did not run into one another, especially after I transferred from the F-86 Airborne Radar/Gunsight System group to another group where I was an F-100 Flight Simulator Technician. Fast forward a bunch of years - and I found out that Robert "Bob" White was a founding member of MoTown's Funk Brothers band. You cannot imagine how happy that made me, to know that Bob had achieved his goal of becoming a professional musician - especially a founding member of MoTown's house band, the Funk Brothers.
Later I continued my walk through the park to my favorite bench on the north-eastern side of the park. The park has several walking paths - one that circles the entire park, and two other that cut through and only circle the two softball fields. My favorite bench is situated right at the point where all three meet - and allows me to greet lots of folks and, on occasion, chat with them.
That evening when I got to my "Bill Gray Greeter's Bench" - a gentleman named Anthony was already there. And to be honest I could not tell if he was homeless or not. He did not appear homeless, but today, in the Booming Biden Economy, that can happen so quickly that is hard to tell sometimes. My clue was that he had several backpacks with him.
Anyway we started chatting and I found that he had worked on the railroad, in the oil fields, and on the oil pipeline - until Biden put them out of business - with the same Executive Order which took away America's Energy Independence - which President Trump had given us following decades of our dependence on the fluctuations of the OPEC Oil Cartel. Now Biden has us totally dependent again on OPEC oil and Russian oil. Does that give you a comfortable feeling?
Anthony did not seem overly bitter, just somewhat disappointed. And all I could tell him was to stick it out until we can vote President Trump back into office in 2024. He and I must have talked for about an hour. And I shared with him how in 1958 God's perfect timing had given me a lifelong career in the computer industry.
And after 12 years in the technical side of the computer industry as a Field Engineer, I moved into sales and marketing for another 35+ years - leaving me in later years to weigh that decision. As a Field Engineer I was doing so well that I had to wonder how high I could have risen if I had stayed. But on the other hand, even though often unstable, the sales/marketing side gave me many exciting experiences.
Throughout my career, both in Field Engineering and in Sales/Marketing, I have worked with and been involved in so many challenging and exciting experiences and people. As I weigh that long ago decision, I am reminded of a 2005 song by George Jones which I paraphrase slightly, "On one hand I count the reasons I should stay - but on the other hand." And that is how I view my long career and my changing ships in midstream.
Yet I have learned over the years to not worry about what could have been, only to thank God for what has been. And one great blessing is that everyone in my immediate family, California and Alabama, are believers and will be stuck with me for eternity. God is good, and always right.
God bless, have a wonderful, blessed day,
Bill
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