Sunday, August 22, 2010

Sunday Musings

I am sitting here listening to music by Jim Brickman, one of my favorite contemporary artists.  In my opinion, most of his works are very extemporaneous -- almost like he sits down at the piano and just lets his emotions come out through his fingers on the keyboard.  There's not very much that's technically challenging about it, but it resonates with me.
I first came upon his works years ago, after my marriage's separation and I was feeling very alone and adrift.  Well, twelve years or so later, I can still count on being dragged out of the dumps when I listen to one of his cds.   I believe I have everything that he's recorded.


I talked with my daughter on the telephone this morning.  She called to ask me how I used to make my famous biscuits that she loves.  Not only did I begin with the printed recipe on the box of Bisquik mix, but I usually added some wheat germ, maybe some applesauce, a dash of salt, some plain yogurt if I had any and a lot of Love.  This is about the only thing my kids have ever asked me to make for them.  Usually, on a Sunday I'd get: "Dad, can you make us some biscuits?"  My signature is to use the last bit of dough left over after cutting out the circles and making a unique twisted thing to put in the middle of the circle.  I hope that her's today are as good as she remembers them being.


My son was eligible to get his learner's permit to drive back in March and now it's almost six months later and he still doesn't seem interested.  It's really hard for me to understand -- I got my license on my sixteenth birthday and a lot of friends I knew did also.  Having your driver's license means "freedom" doesn't it?  It's a rite of passage of sorts and in an area that doesn't have dependable mass transit, it's a necessity to have a car.  (We live almost 30 miles from the nearest mall or movie theatre.)
What's different about this generation that mine, I wonder.  When I was sixteen, I wanted to be able to ask permission to take the family car to run errands and I proved myself to be a responsible driver.

Is it, perhaps, that young people today have already experienced so much more "grown-up" type things by the time they get to be teenagers that they are less likely to want the responsibility of being a driver.
There's also the fact that my son has been riding around with his sister for four years and complains about her bad driving habits.  They were in a pretty bad accident about 18 months ago that was her fault.  (No injuries, just property damage.)  It totaled my beautiful Mercury Sable and caused my insurance rates to double.  I'll have to ask my son if he has worries because of being afraid -- a kind of PTSD.  If he was still going to see his counselor, we could ask her to delve into that area.

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