QUIET LIFE? GOOD LUCK WITH THAT

The quiet life is an aspirational goal.

Even the biggest party person eventually welcomes a less social time in their life.

But it doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten anyone.

Hell, I remember the neighbors from the first house I ever lived in.

Mr. and Mrs. Helms lived across the street with their daughter Jennifer.

She was an artist, a painter, who went to college and came back to teach art in the high school.

My dad said Mr. Helms was a bomber pilot in WWII.

Mr. and Mrs. Hines lived two doors down with their daughter Vicky.

The Funkin family built a house where our woods used to be and Roger Posy lived with his mother on the other side.

Roger was a couple of years older and knew the neighborhood.

Kids from the other side of the hill were friends with kids who lived on the corner, the Hugulls.

When they showed up something bad was going to disrupt the quiet life.

Before the Funkins moved in we built a tree house in the woods, a nicer treehouse than the other kids built.

One summer evening we watched from then dinner table window as kids from over the hill and down the street waved hammers and crow bars on their walk past.

After dinner we went out to find our treehouse torn down.

Roger had a plan.

 

The Quiet Life Rock Fight

The next day we gathered bags of rocks.

That’s the first thing to do before a rock fight. We all knew that.

We also knew we had to retaliate for the tree house destruction.

Roger’s plan was to raid their tree house behind a barrage of rocks.

The smart part was his idea to use mirrors to blind them first with the sun, then the rocks.

After that we invade their treehouse and throw all their shit on the ground.

Roger brought out one of his mom’s mirrors and took the role of Chief Laser Blinder.

The kids from the corner were in their treehouse, Roger trained the reflection on them, and the rest of us pelted them with rocks.

Normal kid behavior, right?

They ran to their house, we stormed their treehouse. It was empty.

We waited for them to come out so we could throw more rocks.

And waited more until we gave up and went home.

 

Quiet Life Of The Mind

Since those days I don’t get in rock fights.

The last one I had I’d thrown a rock that looked like it was going to hit the other kid in the face.

I turned away.

I turned to a life of the mind because it sounded quiet the first time I’d heard of such a thing.

I also liked to read, so it was a good match.

Reading takes concentration whether it’s the classics or airport trash.

You can’t read while operating heavy equipment, which sounds like a lot of noise.

With a book you have a chance to see the world from a different t angle, a different vantage point.

Even a bad book has something good.

The next time you see someone reading a book you’ve read, interrupt their quiet life and talk about it.

They may not thank you, but they should.

Try not to get into a rock fight if things take a bad turn.

Just keep your arm warmed up.