I hear and I forget; I see and I remember; I do and I understand. --Confucius

According to my entry data, I arrived at Authors Den in 2008, a haphazard, intermittent writer of sorts, with few credentials, direction, or purpose. And here I am today, with more than 1,000 compositions, 5,000 reviews, a couple of books, and just as broke as when I started. I’m tired. Not from writing. A third-grader could do as well. Some better. It’s that damned age thing. My brain has lost its snoopiness, its resiliency, and its memory. It gets hard to write when the words hide somewhere in the decaying corners of my mind. And so I have decided to go back to the 3 G’s: Golf, Gambling, and Girls. Actually, two of those are beyond the reaches of my checkbook, so maybe I’d better stick with just one: Girls. Stop laughing or I’ll re-file this posting under “Humor,” and piss off Ron Hull for a month or more.

And so, this is my swan song, such as it is. Nobody ever convinced me to change my style and go away with grace and a little class. Nearly all of them just said “go away.” Yes, I’m on my way out. But no pushing, please.

What will I do? some may be asking. I have enough material for two books. That will keep me busy for a while. There is also an idea in my head to find a forum and teach youngsters two skills that nearly all of them lack. The first is how to stand up in front of a group of people and deliver a worthy presentation. Some 50 years ago I slithered my way through the US Air Force’s version of how to make a presentation. We, the students, were each other’s reviewers. We were mean as hell. We scared each other into becoming more than we could be. We weren’t very good at math, so our bragging rights were on limited statistical grounds. Then I became an instructor. That lasted four years. Some 40 years ago, I joined Toastmaster’s International. I won a lot of Blue Ribbons from my peers. That should count for something. I also earned a degree in the subject matter. A thousand presentations later, I’m still standing. That should also count for something. The second part is how to write. I will force  my students to read my AD postings if only to get my “hit counter” higher. I would still work for free, but I refuse to pay for the right to work for nothing.

Did you know that Mark Twain had only a short stint as a newspaper reporter before going on tour following the Civil War as a public speaker? He went from town to town giving presentations on how to lead a sin-less life after committing all the sins known to humanity. He reasoned that there were several hundred sins that we each commit with regularity, therefore he had presentation material for a couple of years. He lasted 30 years. As a speaker he was known by his family name of Samuel Clemens. Then he hid behind a Nom de Plume as Mark Twain to make it appear as if he was new to the world of humor and the printed word. He was actually incredibly good at all three. It is kind of poetic that he came into the world in 1835 with Halley’s Comet, and left with it in 1910. He was an astral traveler who gave us all a fantastic ride. Even Heaven acknowledged that he was a shooting star from beginning to end. He’s at the top of my list as an anonymous mentor in the artistry of writing and speaking.

I broke ground as a serious student of writing about 50 years ago. My earthly mentor was a man with graduate degrees in Literature, Philosophy, and Music. I believe he knew the biographies and accomplishments of every writer, philosopher, and musician of note who ever lived. He updated every arrangement for the Fresno, California Symphony orchestra’s song book; he taught those three disciplines for several decades; then he organized his own big dance band, filled it with retirees, and enjoyed being the leader of the pack until he died 72 hours after his doctor discovered he had pancreatic cancer. Francis Sibley was a genius. He was 89. We remained friends to the end. I dedicated a poem to him. You can read it here: Free the Philosopher. He loved it and framed it with some pride. It doesn’t get much better than that.

Yes, I was tossed into an orphanage at age 5, abused and abandoned for 8 years, dropped out of life for 20 years, found my place with the highest rating in the highest-rated career field in the US Air Force; graduated with highest honors with a BA, plowed onward to a Masters, and then a Ph.D. Married and helped bring two beautiful ladies into this world, moved around and shuffled around in many of the same locales that Mark Twain had graced. Then I began the long interminable slide toward obscurity. I found neither wealth nor fame. Still, I found the land where kings have rarely walked with three grandchildren; dined in regal elegance among the upper crust and was unimpressed; watched the sun go down in awe over Galway Bay on the beautiful Emerald Isle; stood in the shadow of the valley of death more than once, and survived; met friends in 30 countries who will live forever in my heart; then carved out a tiny niche among writers that I never met, but I will love far into eternity long after our days have all faded away into the churning universe.

May God be with us all—even those of us who occasionally have our moral compass on backwards—until we meet again or for the first time, where neither earthly success nor failure has meaning, and we stand alone in the presence of God. May we remain blessed for the honor of trying to do something worthwhile for humanity, despite our weaknesses and our lack of privileges. We tried, and that is 98 percent of the game of life. Socrates said it, Jesus practiced it, and we carried the torch of freedom with as much honor as this world allows. Peace and love to everyone. And keep on writing on. Your country needs you, the world needs you, and those who understand the “doing” part of life depend on you. To thine own self, be true .

Listen and watch the perfect ending to a perfect life here:   

youtube.com/watch?v=N5RifTn5WUO