It's really not about me.

It’s really NOT all about me.

I spent a lot of my life acting like the only thing that mattered was what was going on in my life and what I was going to do about it. Sometimes I am sure that I still do that, but I am sure trying to get over myself. A while back I wrote about things I had done to “make her mad.” There were a lot of things that I wrote about, while some other things I had done didn’t make the list. But, I had an email from an interested party asking me to write about some things I have done to “make her smile.” So, to risk some personal embarrassment on my part and some boredom on yours here are a couple of things that come to mind.

My grandmother used to tell me that I cried every day for two years after I was born-she was convinced that I was Satan’s spawn, and the absolute worst baby ever. I don’t remember what all the fuss was about – but I am sure that I was perfectly happy before that Doctor cut my Mom open and dragged me out of that warm, happy place by my forehead and introduced me to the world with a firm slap on my bottom. But, I know that on that special day-my Mom smiled.

My dad’s mother, Nannie we called her, was as friendly as a one could imagine if you lived with a water well in the living room and had to go outside to use the bathroom. Pictures of me as an infant are even scary for me to look at. I mean I looked like a space alien, all pink and wrinkled. I bet Nannie used to make me sleep with a mirror just to watch me cry. I was born all of five pounds and went right back to the incubator after losing a half pound. My dad used to explain to his friends about my weight loss being due to them having me circumcised. Well, it is funny when he tells the story – and that makes my mom smile some, too.

My Nannie’s funeral was the first one I ever remember going to. I don’t remember ever seeing her smile. But, I bet that she did smile when my folks came back to her house and picked me up for the night, with all that crying going on, and all. I guess that that will have to be good enough for me to remember about her.

Since it was all about me until just a few years ago I don’t remember a lot about “doing what’s right” but I’m sure that I didn’t go to jail or get any girl pregnant. I bet that made both my parents smile back then.

Some things you have to learn on your own. Some things you learn by watching other people do it first, even if that observation teaches you what NOT to do – like that time a friend of mine was determined to get him some new shades at the mall with the five-finger discount. I said that I thought that was a bad idea and that I would just wait for him in the car. After about two hours, I figured that he wasn’t getting his ride home from me that day. Sure enough, his ride came from his mom after going to meet him at the Houston police department. Not many people smiled that day, I can tell you that. One of those things that goes on “your permanent record,” I suppose.

Last year when gas prices were so high I was driving home from playing golf at some country club, feeling good about the day. I stopped just inside the Denton county line and was filling my car up. Sure, I check the prices but it isn’t like I’m not going to eat if I fill-er up. As I was watching the dollars on the pump go past $40.00 and not slowing down, an old beater pulls in next to me at the pumps. I watch as “mom” argues with the ungrateful teenage girl about wanting a soda and some snacks while mom digs in her purse for the credit card. I couldn’t help but hear her curse under her breath at the machine because it wouldn’t start working. I asked if she needed a hand and told her to go on inside and get her snacks while I gave it a try. Well, the machine wasn’t going to work for her today, since the machine had declined her credit card. So, while she was inside I put my card in there and got the machine going for her. The ungrateful teenage girl saw what I was doing with my card and just watched without saying a word as I watched her watch me. Mom came out and smiled since I got it going for her and as I put the pump back in the machine, she thanked me for helping. I am sure that after the daughter got her drink down the road a bit, she may have told mom that I paid, but I do remember that poor woman’s smile as I drove away. I sure hope her daughter doesn’t get pregnant soon. Mom has enough to worry about already.

Earlier this year while driving from Ashville, North Carolina to Charlotte I am searching for the Cracker Barrel restaurant to get me some chicken and dumplin’s – my favorite meal of all time. Now, I’m sure that most of you have been to a Cracker Barrel; half store and half restaurant. Great place to snag some “home cooking” while on the road. I’m not talking about diet food here, the good stuff with gravy, rolls and corn bread! This particular day had the place packed as usual with the normal crowd of over-fed locals, and the charter-bus cue-tip-blue-haired crowd on the way south to the river boat casinos. Sitting next to me is an old black man with his WWII Veteran’s hat on, and across from him at another table was one of the Bingo ladies that you could have living on your block. Both, eating alone at different tables. Now, I don’t mind eating alone as I do it all the time when I’m on the road. But, you could see that these nice old folks ate alone because their life’s partner was waiting for them to join them in Heaven. Luck turns out that my waitress was also serving both their tables so I told her that I wanted her to bring their checks to me and to take them both a slice of the fresh apple cobbler and put some ice cream on it, too! I made sure to pay their checks before they had finished eating their meals because these are the kind of folks “that ain’t taking no charity.” I let myself really enjoy my dumplins that day, even if they did cost me about $40.00. I know that as I drove away and as each of them left, they would have a little more pep in their ol’ legs and maybe, just maybe a smile on their face, too.