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.
