Monday, June 29, 2009

What movie would you like to see sir?

I know that I am not old in the grand scheme of things. “Old” seems to have a lot more to do with perspective than with facts or hard data on the subject. I will wait patiently, something that I acquired with time and by no means God given, God honed, or God infused, perhaps, but not natural to my good nature, but I will wait patiently for the inevitable comments to come about what a baby I am. In my brothers case of course I am an antiquity from the dark ages, but those comment have slowed down quite a bit since he crossed the forty something threshold. The point of this post is not however to quibble over how we define “old” but rather come to terms with the inevitable trap of age as it relates to time and perspective.

I will make it easy for you so there is no guessing involved. I was born on October 31 1962. That’s right; I was 2-3 years old before I knew my name wasn’t ‘Pumpkin’. Being born on Halloween had no other advantages that I have found. No, I am not embarrassed by it and yes the red-head has picked up on it. My brother, most of you know as Scooter, is six years younger than me. We have passed the lordy lordy forty barrier and I think we are both seeing life a lot differently than we did before. The down side of this new found wisdom is that ‘others’ see us differently too! Yea Scooter, I said ‘US’, deal with it!

This became blaringly obvious to me the last time Maureen and I took little Sara to see a movie. We waited in line until the 12 year old (what happened to child labor laws?) behind the bullet proof glass with her Brittney Spears headset on, called us forward. I took out my plastic money and said to the metal speaker, “two adults and one child, please”. I was immediately greeted with an expression only a teenage girl can make, you know the one, “DUH?”, and “which movie would you like to see sir?”. I looked at the red-head for conformation, what’s wrong with this girl, my shrug asked?, is she on drugs?...

Maureen just smiled to assure me I was having one of my time warp senior moments and looked at the child in the window and said, “Night at the museum”, as if that explained everything. WELL EXCUSE ME! Whose idea was it to put 32 movies in one building anyway?!? I know they have been around a while! I get it! What was I thinking?


Perhaps I was just remembering a simpler time. When the little girl behind the window didn’t call you sir and you watch the movie that was in town at the time. Change is good, I guess; keeping up is a bitch sometimes.

Just an observation…

Craig Glenn

Friday, June 19, 2009


(Photo by Scooter)


Love is a mystery
And quite often elusive.
Sought for eternally
I’ve found nothing conclusive.

But sometimes it's simple
As easy as one, two, three!
Your tails in a crimple
Just get naked and be free!


Ain't love grand!

Just an observation...

Craig Glenn

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

In The Garden

C Austin Miles
I come to the garden alone,
While the dew is still on the roses;
And the voice I hear,
Falling on my ear,
The Son of God discloses.
He speaks and the sound of His voice
Is so sweet the birds hush their singing;
And the melody that He gave to me
Within my heart is ringing.
I'd stay in the garden with Him,
Tho' the night around me be falling,
But He bids me go;
Thro' the voice of woe
His voice to me is calling.

And he walks with me
And He talks with me,
And He tells me I am his own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.

They say God speaks to us. I don’t know. I guess I have always been one of those who believe that He gave us the bible for that reason. This is not some big theological question that is haunting me. I am not looking for enlightenment, sorry Braja, I mean that only as it relates to this post! LOL.

I do have to wonder though, when I see people all over the world freaking out over a piece of toast or rust on their bathtub, why would God choose to communicate that way and why to only certain people. I guess it’s just human nature to want to see Jesus, Mary, and Joseph in everything. Maybe it gives them hope in a world that seems to have slid off it’s axis at times.

At any rate, perhaps my brother the philosopher will have some insight on this latest communication. Please consider the photo above carefully. I promise I have not edited it in any way. I did crop it for context but that is all. First of all it’s not a good photo from a bird blogger point of view. I was shooting against the light and hoping to just get a good silhouette shot of this Mallard.

Now look at the reflection in the water. Is it just me or is that Daffy Duck!


What is God trying to tell me now?!?

Just an observation…

Craig Glenn

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Looking up old friends

Over the last year I have really enjoyed the world of social network marketing. I found it a fun way to communicate with friends and family. This all started with a Facebook account and grew to Twittering and Blogging. Although my ‘friends’ list looks pretty sad to most, I am quite happy with the results so far. I am constantly amazed at people with 238 friends! I am sure I don’t know 200+ people! Nevertheless, SNM is a convenient way to keep in touch with my children, brother, and close friends. What a great way to share photo’s and trivialities like “what are you doing now”?

There is a special kind of joy in hearing form one of your kids as soon as they experience some new found joy in life, usually as soon as they feel it themselves. Blogging has opened my sheltered horizons and afforded me with new friends across the globe. I have taking two of my passions, nature and writing, and now have become a happy member of online blogging communities with wonderful people that share my interest.

One of the many project ideas I have for my blog ‘Craig’s Observations’ is to telling stories from my childhood. I tell these stories often to whoever will listen and seem to get a lot of positive feedback. As you can imagine, reliving these stories takes you back and I can’t resist looking people of from my past to see where they are in life and reconnecting if I can.

One particularly funny story involved a close neighborhood friend and I burning down his fathers’ barn. It was most likely just a wood shed with tin siding but you would thought it was the Taj Mahal when his father got hold of us. But before I tell the story let me share with you what I have discovered to be the dark side of all this instant access to global knowledge. My friends name was Lee Shinholster. Not a common name so I thought this would be a snap. I had not seen or heard from him since my family and I moved from that small town in south Georgia when I was 13 years old. Although the story took place when we were around 9 or 10.

I Googled my old childhood friend and this is what I found.

The Ocilla Star Newspaper, Dec. 1998Lee ShinholsterMr. Lee Shinholster of Fitzgerald died Saturday," December ,5,' 1998, in Fitzgerald. He was 36. Mr. Shinholster was born June 21, 1962, in Worth County, the son of Danny L. Shinholster and Faye Mixon Smith. He was sales manager of Haulmark of Georgia in Fitzgerald. Mr Shinholster had lived, in the community most of his life. He was a former employee of Harvey's Supermarket,Fitzgerald Ford-Lincoln Mercury and Pace America of Fitzgerald. He had_served in the U. S. Navy. Mr. Shinholster was talented musician and sang with the Gospel singing group, Witness. He was a member of Ocilla Church of God.Survivors' include his wife, Julie Croft Shinholster of Fitzgerald; one son, Travis Shinholster; mother, Faye M. Smith of Fitzgerald; father, Danny Shinholster of Sylvester; and one brother, Curt Smith of Fitzgerald.Services were held at Paulk Funeral Home Chapel of Fitzgerald on Monday, December 7 at 4 p.m., with Rev. Gene Evors, Rev. Walter Shuman and Rev. Sonny.Pate officiating. Interment was held at Evergreen Cemetery of Fitzgerald. Paulk Funeral Home was in charge of arrangements.

I was too late.

As I said, I had not heard from or seen Lee since I was 13. In my head he was still 13. I made this discovery a couple of months ago but have put off writing this until now. I suppose you could guess why. I do not know the details of his passing. I do not know what kind of man he became or what life he led other than what is revealed in the obituary above. All I have are simple childhood memories of the friend I once had that lived up on the paved road no more than a block from my house on the dusty dirt road.

All of my memories are from the eyes of a child. Everything is bigger than I am sure it was in real life; the barn, the fire, the distance from my house to his. This is hard to write, not because of grief, but because of the overwhelming flood of memories from that time and space. It’s hard to focus on just the story when you remember every detail and can see it in your head like an old video forever stored in your mind. Memories like watching my father with a water hose spraying the dirt road in front of the house late in the evening to keep the dust down from all the people coming home from work. Images like these are slamming into my conscious like walking into a door you forgot was there.

So at the risk of loosing my readers I will try and finish the story. Lee and I had somehow managed to convince our parents to let us camp out in the barn overnight. Remember we were most likely 9 or 10 years old. We had some fire wood but it was wet. Being the creative kids we were we developed a plan to really get the fire going. We had our fire pile and our wood pile. It was decided, by whom, I do not remember, that we would presoak the wood pile with gasoline. Yea I know…

I remember picking up a stick of wood and throwing it at the fire. You had to throw it you see, it was soaked in gasoline and went SWOOSH when it hit the fire. Imagine the fun at that age! Anyway, the piece I threw hit the fire and bounce back into the gas soaked wood pile, which was right next to the wood wall of the barn. Next thing we know there are fire trucks involved and Lee’s daddy is chasing him around the yard with a belt and I am screaming, “it was my fault, it was my fault”, to no avail.

You have to trust me when I say it was a funny story told in the right context. Now it’s just a childhood memory of an old friend that I will never see again. I have no way to contact his family or no way of knowing if they even remember the kid that lived down on the little dirt road called Flint Street.


If these humble words do find their way to the family of my friend, please let them know that I am sorry. I am sorry about the barn and I am sorry for their loss.

Just an observation…

Craig Glenn

Friday, June 5, 2009

Cypress Cone

Lost in thought:

I actually looked that up in an online dictionary. Maybe I have lost more than a thought!

It did occur to me that I had not written in a while and I am sure my few readers were wondering if I too was lost. Perhaps so, but not in the since that my creditors and persecutors could not find me. I do feel lost sometimes though and think perhaps many people do. The definition, by the way, said that to be lost in thought was “concentrating or pondering over something”. I do this a lot, ponder that is. Maureen says I wander a lot too, but that is another post. Yes, I did mean wander and not wonder, although I do wonder why I wander so much.

This all started while on my daily lunch walk yesterday. I was drawn to a small cypress tree off to the side of the walk. They are now quite green and starting to grow small cones, so I stepped off the side walk and wandered over to take a closer look as I often do on my walks in hopes of finding some interesting bug or observation in nature to post on my nature blog. I did in fact find a really cool stink bug and have posted him proudly on the nature blog. But, I was not lost yet.

It was the small green carved cone that did slip me from reality. As I said before this happens to me a lot and I wonder what the passers by must think the strange man in the middle of the city is doing as he stares into the bushes? I am sure many a finger has been tempted to call 911 and report the weirdo with the camera as he peers through the branches! It was a most peculiar sight as you can now see; a lovely shade of green and carved by the hands of God himself.

So I stood there; lost; lost in my thoughts. I do not know how much time passed. I do not know how many cars passed behind me. The stink bug was only inches away, but I had not discovered him yet. Thoughts, at the speed of electricity firing from neuron to neuron, passed through my head. Thoughts of God. Thoughts of man. Thoughts of this man. Feelings of insignificance. Wonderment. Curiosity. You know, the normal stuff that goes through one’s mind when they are lost. Or is it just me? LOL I wonder…


Maybe I should have just posted the photo and waited for the oooo’s and ahhh’s. Perhaps some thoughts are best lost.

Just an observation…

Craig Glenn