Proper perspective

Every person’s life is worthy of a book. I hope you are writing yours, or saving and collecting the material to one day write it.

I am in the midst of mine.

For those of you who just tuned in, this is the next installment of my memoirs currently in production. The previous installments are available on my web page I hope you find it interesting.

The book is titled, Live Long*,  Learn a Little, Laugh a Lot.

The first part of this book’s title is, “Live Long *. The asterisk refers to the definition of “long;” not long in years necessarily, but in perspective. My experience has been that the longer the perspective the wiser the decision. Sometimes the elevation of our focus is also important.

“I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills: from whence commeth my help.” (King David of Israel, Psalm 121:1)

“Look up, raise your eyes to the skies, reach for the stars;” such exhortations are staples on the motivational menu. The upturned gaze is the preferred position most of the time but not always; not this time.

Outside, the lights dazzled, the marquees flashed their enticements, the crowds milled and the traffic bustled in this city that never sleeps. One of those marquees informed (in modest letters) “The Three D’s with Sandi and Sally.”

Above our humble announcement, the bright bold words shouted “In the Thunderbird Showroom OPENING TONIGHT—TOPLESS CHORUS LINE.”

“Oh great; perfect timing,” I thought looking up at the monster marquee. “The night we open the hotel inaugurates its half naked show. This is indeed the Las Vegas strip.

“Let’s get a picture of that marquee for the folks back home,” I thought. “Or even better, let’s not.”

The topless extravaganza was in the hotel’s show room. We were in the lounge, so we wouldn’t be in proximity of the chorus girls, or so I thought.

Later that night after our first show, behind the glitter and the slots and crap tables a solitary figure and his guitar climbed the bare concrete stairs enclosed in the bare concrete walls leading to the dressing rooms. He heard a door above him open followed by the clatter of high heels. It was apparently the chorus line descending from their undressing room. He looked for a side door, a closet to duck into. Nothing. The only escape was to vault the banister and land on the next floor or two down. Not a good option, especially carrying his precious guitar. He could turn and descend the stairs, but grand master of a nudist parade was not an honor he was comfortable with.

“Watch your step,” He mumbled, left foot, right foot. Keep to the right. Hold on to the banister. Don’t trip”

He passed the dancers, entered his dressing room, set down his guitar and breathed a sigh of relief and fatigue, “Two shows, one night done, about 40 nights and 80 shows to go,” he thought.

The chorus girls’ dressing room, so to speak, was a floor above ours with only one set of stairs. For six weeks they often came down as we went upI happened to be alone on my way up the stairs that first night.

I thought a longer perspective thought. Some day my children and even grandchildren may ask me, ‘When you walked by those ladies, did you look?’

I will tell them the truth. “In this world we have to be aware of what is going on around us. The important thing is to watch your step otherwise you may trip and fall. Be careful where you are going, or you may bump into things. And, always look for the good and the beautiful around you.

So that is what I did. I looked down so I didn’t trip on the stairs. I held to the banister like it was a rod of iron so I didn’t bump into anybody’s body. And I focused on good things.

I saw that those ladies had very pretty feet.

Your next installment is: Identical individualists doing their own thing together

Everybody I know is busy, including me.  Where are those golden years I was planning on of sitting on the back porch picking my guitar? So I will send just one little part of the book at a time. You can give it a quick read and tell me what you think if you would like.

I’ve slimmed that process down to two questions, and four strokes on the key board (six if you count “Reply” and “Send.”)

The questions are these:“A” How much did you enjoy this?“B” How much do you think a person who doesn’t know Duane Hiatt would enjoy this?
The rating is:1. Glanced at it, printed it out and lined the bottom of the bird cage with it.2. Sped-read it and filed it with my tax return receipts3. Thought it was about as interesting as a well written obituary4. Could have put it down, but didn’t want to5. Couldn’t put it down. Put it in a magnetic frame and stuck it onto the fridge door

So your response would perhaps be A-4, B-3, (Or maybe A-5, B-5, I’m expecting a minimum number of those.)

Also feel free to add comments if you like.

Also, also, feel free to forward this material to anyone you want to.