9/17/2020
Standing at my front door this morning, I began wondering what if I stepped through this door and was standing on the original stoop of this house in the year 1960, but I was standing there as the 78 year old Jerry Lockhart that you all know (and love, right?) What if that would occur? And what if, in just a few seconds I realized it. What if I knew I was 78, but I was standing on that stoop having just gotten married, about to become a father, about to start my second job, My conscious mind knew what year it was, but also knew I had grown old and now could realize how things had come about from 1960 to 2020. What would I do? If there was such an event could possibly take place, what would I do? Or, yet larger than that, what would I say? Just what knowledge would I want to impart? Then, what if, in this impossible scenario, I could step out to the street and talked to the two young men slowly driving by this almost new house on this almost new street—in 1960? Let’s see.
I step off the stoop and walk to the curb just about the time the two young men’s car gets there and they stop. The driver spoke, “Say, kid, could you tell us where we should go to learn about this town? We’re lookin’ for a place to start a new and hopefully a better life.” Oh, my. What am I gonna tell them? Shall I tell them my life’s story? Shall I tell them about this state, this town, these people? Or should I tell them of bigger places or smaller places they could go? Should I tell them to think big? Or tell them to go home and live where they grew up? Should I tell them to get into this industry or that industry because it’s really gonna get big and they can become rich? Or tell them how hard it’s all gonna be for them; how vicious the world around them is going to be? Maybe I’ll talk a little sense into these two! Let’s see.
“You’re talking to the guy who can fill you in,” I say, “but you’re not talking to just some kid, I’m a married man and I know a thing or two” They smiled, “sure, kid, we didn’t mean to insult ya.” I say, “how ‘bout we take a ride around town and talk awhile, ok?” They say, “hop in.” And I get into the back seat of their car and we drive up the hill. The driver says his name is Stuben but everyone calls him “Stude.” cause he drives a Studebaker. The other, a little younger said his name was Henry, but everyone called him “Hen.” I laughed and it irritated them. I said, “so together you two are just a “stewed hen!” After a couple of seconds they laughed heartily at my joke. I breathed a sigh of relief. So tell us, they said, should we move here? I started with this.
From what I can see by your license plate you came here from Indianapolis, IN, didn’t you? The prefix number on the tag is 1, that would be Marion County. And, if I’m not mistaken, Henry, you have brothers who are pretty famous already; basketball players. Bailey played for Butler and Oscar played for the most famous High School basketball team in Indiana and now for those Bearcats at Cincinnati! How they doin’, Henry? Well, he said, we’re not like them and tired of living under their reputations and we want to be known for who we are. Oh, gotcha, I said, I understand, I do understand. Stude, did you play basketball? No, he said, I didn’t have enough talent to play. I just watched. Both agreed, they watched a lot of basketball. Me too, I said, I’ve watched for years and years and years! They said, “Huh?” (Remembering my 78 year old mind) I said, “Oh, I’m planning on it!” It is a great game, they agreed.
They liked the town, they wondered about whether they would get along with the people here, if there were any girls they’d be interested in or could they start a business here, or be thought of as outsiders or fit right in, do I think Studebaker needs a dealer here?—all that stuff. So I began to think what all I could tell them to sort of give them a head start. Keep them from falling into what I clearly understood would have been traps for them. I can be a big help here! … But wait, dummy! You know better than that. You know what they need most isn’t about the stuff, don’t be such an 18 year old loggerhead! Think like your 78 year old experienced loggerhead instead! (Loggerheads don’t favor good council.) “You know guys,” I said, “that’s not what you need to know. It just seems like you need to know all that. If you’ll listen, I’ll tell you what you really need to know.” So I began.
Find out about you. Who you are. Find out what you can do. You already know you’re not gonna be basketball stars, right. But, what are you gonna be? Teacher? Doctor? Mechanic? Carpenter? A factory worker? Want to mow lawns for a living? Will you become addicted to anything in a bad way, like drugs, alcohol, tobacco? Find all that out, now! They asked, “Okay, but how do we find out stuff?” If you’ll listen and not interrupt me, I can tell you. I can talk with you like I’ve already lived. It isn’t that I’m smarter than you, it’s that I can think like a 78 year old man, as though I’ve been there, done that. Failed at it. Won out over it. Wept and laughed over it. Celebrated and mourned over it. Let me tell you what you need to know. Who you need to know most. Who you need to fear the most. Will you listen?? “OK, talk away,” they said, “it’s your dime!” So I began again.
Right there in Indianapolis you can now go to a man who will give you a series of tests to measure some things out about you. You: the one you need to know the best. He will spend a big part of two days with you. The first day, he will administer tests, from memory to whether or not you can put round pegs into square holes, etc. From conversations to arithmetic; from recollection to eyesight—on and on the tests will go. then the second day, he’ll tell you what he found out about you. I did those tests and I believe he told me exactly right. Obviously, there is more to come on this little “fanciful thoughts” fable.
Thanks for reading, the Elder
[PS: Please, if you read this post, for sure read the next one , OK?]
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