Changes

I remember the first time I saw the Eiffel Tower in Paris.  It was an event I had prepared for since my Junior High school French classes taught by Monsieur Johnson.  I was not disappointed!

Here was this stoic lady looming over the City of Lights keeping a vigil which has lasted for more than a century.  The feelings that coursed through me ranged from awe to wonder to amazement.  Feelings which waned only slightly during our week long stay.  Her all-seeing eye as it were keeping watch over the French capital; while you felt safe knowing you could ascertain where you were in the city by just casting a glance in her direction.

Amazingly some Parisians wanted to scrap the iron lady after her intended purpose as the gateway to the 1889 World's Fair had expired.  Famed French author Guy de Maupassant hated the structure so much he reportedly ate lunch daily on the first level restaurant saying "it was the only place in all of Paris where he could not see the tower."

Which brings me to the real purpose of this posting.  On my second visit to Paris the sighting of the tower did not elicit the same feelings even though nothing had changed in that relatively short passage of time..  Proving you really do only have one chance to make a first impression. But change is an essential part of life which should not be cast aside simply because your impression has been skewed.

I have six grandchildren, the newest is little more than a week old as of this writing.  They have changed me.  Unlike the Eiffel Tower; each time I see one of these precious little ones I am renewed with awe and wonderment at their changes.  How quickly they evolve and grow and develop is, in and of itself, a miracle. I look forward to each new visit as a chance to witness and experience these changes.

To see the peripatetic movements of Axel as he eagerly explores this new life he has been given changes me.  Seeing a young Jacob smile at your voice, and knowing its NOT just gas, changes me.  "Do you want to build a snowman?" asks Blakely as she peels her father's eyelids open...you guessed it...changed me!   

How is it possible 30-something years have passed since I brought my oldest daughter home and got to watch her changes on a daily basis.  Followed by four other young ladies who grew and changed overnight it seems and they are now providing me with another bounty of beauty in their children.  Elijah whose whisper soft voice and propensity to wear only Disney princess clothing  now has long locks like "Punzell" but recently showed up dressed as the assassin Gamora from Guardians of the Galaxy...Now that is a change!  Kaya's husky physique belies her gentle nature. But she is a girl of a thousand faces...that's change in an instant. 


That's this week...next week there will be even more changes.  I look forward to seeing what changes are in store for the newest, little Brooklyn who will have to deal with her aforementioned inquisitive big sister. 

The only true constant in life is change.  I am almost afraid to blink or I might miss something that I will regret the remainder of my days..

To paraphrase Gordon Gecko..."Change is good" and despite the outward appearance even the venerable tower has changed.  It has served as a massive billboard for Citroen cars and the addition of different lights over the years have been used to mark changes in the French presidency or even membership in the European Union.

Some change is not welcome.  An expanding midsection and fast receding hairline are not things I relish...but hey maybe they will change!

The Machine Whisperer

The recent passing of my father-in-law prompted me to write a story about one of the ways he impacted my life.  My wife and her siblings have encouraged me to post that story and I am proud to honor him by re-telling his story.

The old Honda lawnmower was a dinosaur by the time I moved in with Angie.  It had seen many better days having chewed through its share of curbs, raised tree roots and a smattering of other debris that might have lain in its path. 

But in the fall of 2002 it was literally belching fire.  If it would run at all, showers of sparks would spew from the machines muffler.   It was decidedly time for the old war horse to be retired.   Unless! 

The man I call The Machine Whisperer was summoned.  Dante Shumway a quiet man with magic in his hands never met a machine he wouldn’t at least try to coax back to life.    

The former Air Force mechanic swore by Honda engines so he took on the task of resurrecting that old mower. 

 

His mastery of the machine was legendary.  Just ask anyone who competed against him in the tractor pulling competitions in the area.  Saddled atop his vintage and cherished John Deere tractors it was a rare day when Dante was out pulled or out distanced in any competition involving man and machine.

Although he never finished high school, Dante was a "Roads" Scholar when it came to anything mechanical.  Armed with that knowledge he dissected that Honda motor lovingly spreading out the myriad parts in perfect order knowing that by reversing the process he could easily reassemble the machine.  

Like a mother cat lapping away at her young kittens, Dante carefully cleaned and tuned each part.  Then with the keen eye of the master craftsman he carefully and meticulously put the mower motor back together. 

As the summer of 2013 dawned you could still turn on that old motor simply by whispering in its ear.  A gentle tug and the machine roared to life ready to tackle whatever was thrown in its way.

You’ve heard the old song about the Grandfather Clock that ran forever until its master died.  

It rang an alarm in the dead of the night —
An alarm that for years had been dumb;
And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight —
That his hour of departure had come.

Still the clock kept the time, with a soft and muffled chime,
As we silently stood by his side;
But it stopp'd short — never to go again —
When the old man died.

Early on the morning of November 19, 2013 my father-in-law Dante Shumway…The Machine Whisperer passed away leaving the tinkering to other mechanics.

The old mower has been winterized and put away for the season, but it won’t surprise me at all if I go to start her up in the spring only to find out she has stopp’d short – never to go again – When the old man died.