Friday, May 31, 2019

May 31: Ound, Whale Questions, Ray

And now, something about the death of a whale (no, we're not going back to Moby-Dick) . . .

Another thing that got forgotten was the fact that against all possibility a sperm whale had suddenly been called into existence several miles above the surface of an alien planet.

And since this is not a naturally tenable position for a whale, this poor innocent creature had very little time to come to terms with its identity as a whole before it then had to come to terms with not being a whale any more.

This is a complete record of its thoughts from the moment it began its life till the moment it ended it.

Ah . . .!  What's happening? it thought.

Er, excuse me, who am I?

Hello?

Why am I here?  What's my purpose in life?

What do I mean by who am I?

Calm down, get a grip now . . .oh! this is an interesting sensation, what is it?  It's a sort of . . . yawning, tingling sensation in my . . . my . . . well, I suppose I'd better start finding names for things if I want to make any headway in what for the sake of what I shall call an argument I shall call the world, so let's call it my stomach.

Good.  Ooooh, it's getting quite strong.  And hey, what about this whistling roaring sound going past what I'm suddenly going to call my head?  Perhaps I can call that . . . wind!  Is that a good name?  It'll do . . . perhaps I can find a better name for it later when I've found out what it's for.  It must be something very important because there certainly seems to be a hell of a lot of it.  Hey!  What's this thing?  This . . . let's call it a tail--yeah, tail.  Hey!  I can really thrash it about pretty good, can't I?  Wow!  Wow!  That feels great!  Doesn't seem to achieve very much but I'll probably find out what it's for later on.  Now, have I built up any coherent picture of things yet?

No.  

Never mind, hey, this is really exciting, so much to find out about, so much to look forward to.  I'm quite dizzy with anticipation.

Or is it the wind?

There really is a lot of that now, isn't there?

And wow!  Hey!  What's this thing suddenly coming toward me very fast?  Very, very fast.  So big and flat and round, it needs a big wide-sounding name like . . .ow . . ound . . . round . . . ground!  That's it!  That's a good name--ground!

I wonder if it will be friends with me?


And the rest, after a sudden wet thud, was silence.

There are many things that make a person reevaluate their lives, ask the whale-big questions like "Who am I?" and "Why am I here" and "What is my purpose?"  Being born is one of those things, I suppose.  Babies coming to terms with no longer being in utero, having to begin the messy work of breathing and crying and being hungry.  Then there's starting kindergarten and all the separation anxiety that goes along with that.  Of course there's the whole falling in love and getting married, which makes a person re-prioritize goals and ambitions.  Then becoming a parent, which again forces an examination of goals and ambitions.  And, of course, there's high school graduation.

I am writing this post one day after I sat in a gymnasium and watched my daughter matriculate from her high school.  I will say this about the experience:  it was wonderful and awful at the same time.  I loved celebrating the success of my little girl, everything that she has accomplished in the first twelve years of her schooling.  That was the wonderful part.  Then there was sitting in the bleachers, feeling like I was attending the wake of my daughter's childhood.  That was the awful part.

Now, if you are one of the faithful readers of this blog, you are probably rolling your eyes, thinking, "Oh my God, he's going to write about his daughter again!  He needs to get over himself and move on!"  I understand that reaction.  After all, the whole month of May, I have been preoccupied with all of these last-days-of-high-school moments.  On the other hand, if I was writing a Christmas blog, would you tell me, "All you talk about is Christmas trees and Christmas presents and Christmas movies!!  Why can't you say something about Halloween or Kwanzaa???!!!"  This blog is about my life, and my life (and heart) has been full of my daughter.  So, yes, this is going to be another post about my first born receiving her diploma.

It's also going to be about the passing of a person I knew and admired.  When I was in high school, I had the good fortune of knowing a man named Ray.  Ray was a grade ahead of me, and he was one of the funniest, warmest, most talented people that I have ever known.  Ray's main passion was drama club.  He was a highlight in almost every school play and musical.  When he graduated high school, he carried that passion with him into college, and he became a mainstay in the local university's productions.  He went on to be a theater professor, passing on his love of the stage to another generation of young people.  I'm going to steal a phrase here, but it really is true--everybody loved Raymond.

It has been many years since I have seen Ray.  Probably over a decade.  Yet, I always thought that the world was a better place because he was in it.  Simply put, he was a really good guy.  Yesterday, I found out that Ray had died.  That has made me even more reflective about the passage of time and the importance of always living the best life possible.  Taking advantage of every possible minute.

My daughter just walked out the door with her boyfriend to attend a classmate's graduation party.  She was a little exhausted from yesterday's events, but she was also really happy.  Her whole life is stretching out before her, full of all kinds of possibilities.  I want to tell her that, whether she's a anesthesiologist or a kindergarten teacher or a short order cook, she needs to understand what's really important.  It's not money or travel or fame or prestige.

No, it's about living life like Ray did.  Pursuing your passion,  Being kind to everyone.  Leaving each person you encounter a little happier.  Making the world a better place because you existed.

That's the best way to answer those big questions.

Who am I?  I am Saint Marty.

Why am I here?  Saint Marty is here to be a poet, teacher, husband, and father.

What is my purpose?  Saint Marty's purpose is somehow to be a light in the window on a dark night.

Rest in peace, Ray.


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