Beauty, age, life, death and a SOB

Here in the midst of restocking my “new” refurbished, replacement computer I thought I might pause a few minutes for obliqueness.

The photograph that I share is one I took last week while on vacation. The scene is a sector of one of the most memorable spots in my lifetime. I won’t go into the whole story. The  reason is that the person who owned that spot died the other day of something or other, from what we used to call old age. But there isn’t such a thing anymore.

Why I read this story today about a woman who is 113 years old. She is supposedly the oldest person in the U.S. and the fourth oldest in the world. I’d guess that as the crow flies,this elder lives between 50-70 miles from where this photo was taken. That is as specific as I’d like to get. Also, that is provided the lady is still living by the time you read this. I don’t mean to be rude. I am just being realistic. Plus, I’ve written too many stories about people who are PDO (Pretty Danged Old) and nothing takes the wind out of your sails as a writer when the live subject about whom you discuss is already yesterday’s news and the obituary from the day before.

So now the fellow who owned this little peace of heaven has passed on — something my journalism professor would have cussed me for writing — and my eulogy is only that the man was somewhat of a SOB. Now it’s not nice to speak of the dead. But somehow, I doubt this SOB would have minded being remembered as a SOB. That is because he seemed rather proud of his bearing. So, technically, I am not speaking ill of the dead, even though I am saying the person who owned this pretty spot of land was a SOB.

I speak as well about how beautiful the land was that he owned and the land around it. So what I am saying about this SOB is not all bad, just that he was a SOB. Billy Joel sang in one of his songs about how “only the good die young.” But we all know that isn’t true. The SOB wasn’t particularly young when he died. And I don’t even know the 113-year-old woman talked about in the newspaper story. She might just be the most wonderful lady ever made. Or not, but let’s hope so.

Peace be with you Ms. 113-year-old lady. And you too you old SOB with the pretty piece of property that is one of the most memorable spots in my life. There is beauty in life, spots and all. No matter if you are a nice old lady, a witch, a saint of a man, or a SOB with the coolest piece of land one could imagine.