Posted by
William D. Dannenmaier on Saturday, October 02, 2010 5:14:09 PM
Wandering through the house, comfortably clothed, I asked my bride what the difference is between being half-dressed and half-naked. Hopelessly old-fashioned and Southern, she replied, “If you’re not wearing a hat, you are half dressed. If you are not wearing shoes, you are half naked.” Actually, I was thinking about the layers between the head and the feet.
Sheila has become very involved in tracking down Cumberland Furnace history for the booklet she is writing for the Historical Society. This morning she was eager to get on the computer to read what she had written last night. She said, “The trouble is that what you see at eight o’clock in the morning is often quite disappointing from what you thought was so brilliant at ten o’clock at night.” When she said that, my thought was, “That’s true for a lot of men.” I confess that is a male sexist viewpoint, I suspect the same is true for a lot of women.
Some of the tidbits she feeds me from her research are quite interesting. The slave owners at Cumberland Furnace actually trained their slaves. Slaves were the skilled workers. The whites were the day laborers.
An elderly man we know, whose grandparents had been slaves, told Sheila that his grandparents talked about how sorry the slaves were for the poor whites with their hungry children who came through looking for any kind of work in exchange for food. It makes one wish to know the truth of the economics and the conditions of the South in the days of slavery. Undoubtedly it was very bad for some, but that was evidently not true for all. The problem I have, as a long-time reader of history, is that much of it is simply popular fiction. Sheila is trying to get beyond that, so she is spending hours of research for every page she writes. As a neglected husband, this is distressing.
She and I were sitting on the back porch a few days ago watching poor Sheba, who is now fourteen years old, dragging her back leg painfully across the yard. Yukon is almost fourteen and is also having trouble with her walking. Our puppies are getting old. Commenting on this to Sheila I said that it was difficult to know when it would be kinder to put one out of this world because of its pains, or let it enjoy the sunshine a bit more. I stopped that line of musing when I noticed Sheila looking at me thoughtfully.
We were at a going away party for a young man, a private first class, headed for Afghanistan recently. Talking with his wife, she said that he had been out of work and that with their three children, the army was the only way he could make a living wage for the family. When we left, his wife gave me a big hug. Thinking about it, I believe I know why young women so freely hug older men. It has nothing to do with our Adonic looks, rather with our ancient locks. Our gray hair, or lack of it, reminds them of beloved but departed grandfathers.
Sheila and I arrived at the Cardiac Club earlier than usual the other day. Sheila was enthusiastically greeted by the lone woman present who said, “Am I glad you are here. Up until now I’ve been the only woman in a room of men.” Sheila replied, “That’s not a problem. Just think of them as a room full of children and take charge.” I’ve been thinking about that response.
I received, as I occasionally do, a letter from the hearing aid people suggesting I come in to have them cleaned. This time, I not only remembered to make the appointment, I also remembered to go. The lady in charge reminds me a bit of Sheila: bossy. After cleaning the aids and discussing their use with me a bit, she put them on some sort of machine. Then she looked at me and asked, “Do you wear these often?” I replied that I wore them occasionally. She smiled and gently shook her head, “According to this, you have worn them almost 0% of the time for the past two years.” I am now under orders, women feel free about placing men under orders, to wear them every day for the next two weeks and return for another check. I am now on my second day. Men were too happy in the Garden of Eden, so God created women.