What the “L”?
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It has been over a year and half since I drove down the road previously called Dripping Springs to the house by the Brazos River, owned by Bubba Jay and his wife Mary Rose. In many ways, it has been too long a time to be out of contact with such a close friend. After greeting Bubba, sitting down to a tall, cool beer, Mary Rose and my wife, Anne, went into the kitchen to talk of things that they had bottled up for some time and had to uncork. Bubba and I opened our own bottle of questions. “You look thinner and not in pain,” Bubba started the conversation as if it were but a moment since we last met. “You see, although I have not seen you, I still read your articles. The one on pain was interesting. I thought after reading it that I might have to attend your wake instead of a friendly visit like this.” “Yes, as you grow older,” I answered, “you find that the vehicle of your body needs some overhauls.” “You know what I say to that, “What the “L”. We live longer by the “L’s”. You know,” continued Bubba, “there are “L’s” that sustain us. Love, laugher, and luck leads to longevity.” “I agree,” I said, thinking about his statement. He always makes me think when we visit. “If it had not been for Anne in the Republic of Georgia last year, I do not believe that I could have taken the days when the American Embassy announced that Chechyans were plotting to kidnap Americans in Tbilisi. As you know, the war between Russia and Chechnya was only ninety miles from where I taught. We were forced to do everything together for protection sake but after 45 years of a continuing honeymoon that was normal for us. You are correct, love is the first thing that keeps you young. Also, if we could not have laughed a lot in the shelter of our barred apartment, it would have been unbearable to stay for nine months.” “Don’t forget “luck”, said Bubba seriously, “no one survives anyplace without luck. I have a young friend who just turned 34 and he has been diagnosed with Huntington’s Disease. It has plagued his family. Each member gets it when they turn 40. He has no luck in terms of his genes. In contrast, you are lucky. All you have that is sort of wrong is that you are growing old together with Anne. Some would say that you are the luckiest person on the face of the earth. You see, I watched Lou Gehrig the other night on my new television.” “You now have a television?” I said with a quiver of surprise in my voice. “In Georgia, we had no radio or television but I did not miss them. And you know how I love to go to sleep watching some television show that does not interest me.” “I know,” said Bubba. “We decided, in today’s world, there are times when we need to know some things and television does it faster than print. Not better, just faster. Mary Rose loves the game shows.” “Do you think that just living a long time is good?” I asked. Bubba smiled, “It is better than the alternative.” “OK, then, what the “L’s” give us is worth the time that we spend questioning the value of growing old but there are days when the body is not up to the same energy level as the spirit,” I commented, almost to myself. “Yes,” said Bubba, looking out over the simmering surface of the Brazos, “we know three things about ourselves. We are born. We live. We die. The middle is the only one where we have any glimmer of a choice and the “L’s” educate us to navigate those troubled waters.” Mary Rose and Anne came out at that moment and asked, “Who wants to match wits with the contestants of Jeopardy?” “Sure,” Bubba and I said laughing, “What the “L”?” |
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