Old Wisdom

I have this thing about old people. I love them. From the kind to the curmudgeony, I just love them. I get all giddy like it's Christmas and they are Saint Nick in the flesh. I have to prepare myself, get in line, and hope for some sageful wisdom. I love it. There's something about the experience of experiencing the experienced.

That's how I was raised. No matter how much I didn't follow through when it came to those instructions, I've learned, and now am very much respectful to those of age. Lord knows that when my mother told me and well, to be honest, still tells me , and I still argue and fight. I thought I knew it all, and probably, at least a bit, still think I know it all. But deep down, I'm absorbing that wisdom that will shine through past my inexorable stubborness. Anyways, I feel like I literally have a sense about it. Especially when it comes to the old folks whose bout to drop some knowledge my way. It literally feels like stumbling upon treasure. Treasure ready for the masses, but only you, only you were lucky to stumble and lay your eyes, ears, heart, and life upon it.

I love wisdom. And with older gents and ladies, I know it comes from experience. And their wisdom is conceive against the brutal spectre of death. It's as if, time is receding away and they don't have the liberty for erroneous time-wasting. It's not in their cards. And let it be understood, them kids are refined. Whether it be pure or not may be up for contention, but whatever it is they have to say, I know it's been through the fire. So with that understood and already acknowledged, I know they're not going to fuck with me. I know whatever they've learned along their way has stood the test of time to make it with them where they are at. They've had to build and tear down many a foundation, only to rebuild and hope it stands against the winds of time. And that's where I hope I can wander by and hopefully catch a elongated glimpse at the magnitude of their fortress and glean some sort of practical life application.

I love glimpsing back, the times I've encountered people who had it. Those old(er) folks who gave me that feeling. The feeling that garners all the respect. And it has to be that, respect. I owe them that. When others my age shout out about knowing, not to say it's not correct or applicable, I would just not trust it as easily. And I know that their aren't as many real living stories behind those platitudes. You know, I guess I have a severe problem with stories. Stories and visions live in my head. I do this a lot, but I remove myself from reality and put myself in stories. I see myself in another world as another person. Not to escape necessarily, but because it's just so damn fun. So when I come into contact with this refined wisdom, well, I mean I want to be, see, and feel their stories. I want to live through their proverbial truths experienced only in a life well lived.


Coop's grandparents, John P. Philip, Juanita DeLeon, Mrs. Curly, Pastor Kevin Jackson, Linda and Bill Lardie, John Love, David Horsley, ChesterfromtheLandra, Shirley Geneva, Gail Stennis, Homer Sanders, John Lincoln Jr., Pastor Stanley Williams, Stan Thomas, and last but not very least, the one and the only Rachel Philip who'll keep bringing me that wisdom well into the years after she's left me...



Be Relentless,
Peace
Remoy