GOOD Morrnings

Notes of Concern…

                               …Jackson Blair

GOOD Mornings

I am writing this before Election Day as it is due to my editor.  As much as I enjoy watching politics unfold and trying to make predictions I am much less into analyzing the actual results.

Once the people have spoken, for me, it is over!

The Fat Lady has sung!

Hasta la vista pols (and polls)!

Whether we are dealing with a President Obama or a President Romney the work ahead is clear. The President-elect needs to get on it and he doesn’t need any of us to be in the way with grudges or bad feelings or “could have beens.” So this column has nothing to do with politics.

I can hear the cheering!

Once upon a time I would get up each morning in Connecticut while everyone else in the house was still asleep, dress and head over to the local train station where I would board a commuter train to New York City. On arrival in New York at Grand Central Station, I would get off the train and walk through the station and down into the bowels of that grand old building and stand on a platform awaiting a subway train heading downtown to Wall Street. I would board the subway and ride down to the area of Old Trinity Church, where the big bronze statue of the bull stands. Then I would walk to One Wall Street Plaza and commence a day of work.

Door to door: two hours. 

Round trip:  four hours.

In the particular business in which I was involved no one put in what is commonly called an eight-hour day. If you tried that you did not last long. So I spent a lot of time every week getting to work and working.

I mention this because I want to talk about mornings.

I did not realize how wonderful mornings could be in those years. Now that I am retired I cherish my mornings. I have a routine that I seldom break.

I awake when my wife is heading out to work. I am back asleep before the bedroom door shuts. When I awake again it is because I am no longer sleepy. My body tells me when I have had enough rest. These days, I listen to my body.

Although I am not writing about “evenings” I should mention that I also listen to my body then. When I am tired, I go to bed. Sometimes that might be 10PM. Other times it might be 2AM.

After rising in the morning I turn on the news and jump in a hot tub. While this might sound really sinful I actually do it because of arthritis. Anyone who has arthritis will tell you it is roughest in the morning because of your being so still all-night.

The hot tub takes all that away.

That time also lets me know if the world is still on her axis, if any foolish things have been said or done overnight, and if the weather is planning to play nice with me the rest of the day.

After the hot tub experience my Labrador retrievers have about had it without more individual attention. They get some pats on the head, a lot of conversation (who knew I would spend my days talking to dogs?), and we head to the living room and the fireplace.

Time in front of the fireplace, freshly brewed coffee in my mug, dogs at my side, newspaper and laptop news and columns on my lap: ready for the rest of the morning to unfold.

Nope.

The only thing that “unfolds” is the paper. I am ensconced for the better part of whatever morning remains. I have everything I need at the ready: my cell phone, my land line, a nice ship’s clock given to me one year by my wife, a good reading lamp, pencils and erasures for the daily crossword. 

Most importantly, our house has some really nice windows and from my chair I get a good look at the morning unfolding outside.

This is also a great time for making or receiving phone calls. If it is your regular schedule, people who need to reach you know when you will be home.

As lunch time approaches I begin to think of walking the dogs, meeting someone for a quick bite, joining my wife for lunch at her place of work, or preparing for any meetings I might have scheduled for the afternoon.

Many people will comment on how “lucky” I am to have this time.

I smile and let it pass.

Those friends who are retired know what I mean. You know, as do I, that we worked for these years. We earned them the old fashioned way, and we have no way of knowing how many of them we have “banked.”

They could run out at any time.

So we enjoy each and every one of them.

Afternoons are reserved for “honey do” lists, dog romps, my own errands, or anything that might be really productive.

Productivity is a word banished from my mornings.

Words saved for my mornings are: contentment, relaxation, enjoyment and contemplation.

Sometimes I think of those four-hour commutes and ten-hour days.

But not often.