In Memoriam

My only grandfather was actually my step-grandfather. But I never knew the difference. Nor did I care. He was, and had always been, the only grandfather I’ve ever known. Despite knowing him for all of my 25 and a half years, I actually know little about his early life. His past was rarely discussed, and I felt no need to pry into something that wasn’t readily offered. I don’t know the type of person he was in his youth. Did he have a temper like some boys do? Was he kind-hearted? I’m sure the ladies loved him. From what grandma says, they still do! (Especially at those old high school reunions!!) I can take solace knowing that people from his distant past remembered him. I’m not a religious or spiritual person by any means. It just never made sense to me. So I think that living memories are of incredible importance. The people that remain when you die will be the ones who carry your torch, and recall the events of your life. Many times, it’s easy to look at the past through rose-colored lenses. And yet, as I write this now, there is no distortion. I have nothing but fond and good memories of my grandfather. Never in my life did I see him treat another person with anything but the utmost respect and decency. That’s how he is in my living memory. I can only assume that others share that view of him.

From my experience, family isn’t so much about bloodlines, but about who is there when you need them. Warren Miller was family. Because of him, I know that there’s a guy who makes ski movies. 3 year old me loved the concept of peeing (while standing) and marking every tree in the vicinity. Hell, 25 year old me still thinks that’s a damn fine way to go! I also love the smell of pipe tobacco. For as long as I can remember, he watched a movie every night. When I was a kid and went to stay at grandma and grandpa’s house, I would stay up and watch a movie with him, and he often smoked a pipe. I associate that smell with being safe and secure. That smell, to me, denotes relaxation. I’m sure that’s why he smoked it too. Eventually, we grandkids learned about Public Service Announcements and harassed him mercilessly to stop smoking until he finally relented. As a child, I felt we’d achieved some great victory, righting the wrongs of the pre-pubescent world. The real answer is that he quit because he didn’t want us to experience any repercussions. That was the type of man he was. Always doing something for others.

The family he married into is a loud one. Most of us like to be the life of the party, even when we’re the only ones AT the party. So while the rest of us chortled and guffawed with glee, grandpa sat quietly entertained on one side of the circle. He’d wait until the perfect moment, then always interject some witty, sarcastic comment that belittled the entire conversation, but sent us all into hysterics anyway. He’d call himself an outlaw, surrounded by all his in-laws, and smirk as he took a sip of whiskey. Despite the odd dynamics within our curious family tree, he always managed to fit in just fine, even though he was a registered Republican.

One summer when I was probably around 7 or 8, I spent a week down with him because we were building a treehouse. I drew up elaborate plans for what I envisioned, and grandpa ever so diplomatically explained to me that my lack of knowledge regarding carpentry and physics would be a bit of a hindrance. So I helped as best I could, but what I remember most about that week is a new phrase: gotta see a man about a horse. We’d been at it for maybe an hour or so, and grandpa stands up, dusts himself off, looks at me and says “Well, I gotta see a man about a horse!” Then walked inside. I had no idea what to make of this, and knowing that he loved westerns, I assumed that he’d decided to go watch a movie. “So THAT’S why constructions projects take so long!” My feeble brain concluded. When he came back a minute later, he explained to me that his colloquial phrase was just a polite euphemism. That expression has stuck with me for almost two decades now.

What I’ve written here are the best examples of my living memories of my grandfather. He was a quiet, kind, gentle, and very generous man. He’s also very likely in the running for sainthood for putting up with the Burden clan for so many years! So to the only grandfather I’ve ever had, and could ever need, thank you for all the lessons and laughs over the years. It’s been said that we’re meant to lose the ones we love so we know how important they are to us. I can say now that I understand the significance of our relationship, and I hope to one day share that same dynamic with my own grandson. I saved a bottle of Oregon beer to have in your honor. In living (and loving) memory, here’s to you!

Beer and ambivalence: an open letter to America

Dear America,

I gained twelve pounds while in your graces last month. People in Guyana have responded to that fact with two comments. The males say “You gettin’ fat!” The females say “You lookin’ good der boi!” Apparently, those twelve pounds of mass have been dually noted and appreciated by the people of Guyana. So thank you, for your ample food supply and obscene portion sizes. I’d forgotten the joys of multiple cheeses. How do you get your beef so tender? It’s probably better I don’t know. Just as long as you recognize how magical that steak can be. Did you know that female cows can have horns too??!! I learned so much while I was away.

I felt your warm embrace as I was practically waved through customs. Nobody ever suspects the tall blonde white boy of anything mischievous or untoward. I also appreciate that you don’t expect your people to talk to or even acknowledge each other’s existence in public. I enjoyed walked around and not having to greet everyone I passed! Your constituency was plugged into smart phones, ipods, laptops, tablets, and pretty much any other electronic device under the sun. Some find that distasteful and even offensive. Personally, I’m very amused by the American people’s obsession with personal space and privacy, even in a public setting. It makes for fantastic people watching.

However, I do have one complaint about you in general. You’re a bit…there’s really no delicate way to put this, but you’re a bit excessive. Do your stores really need to have an entire aisle devoted to chips?!? CHIPS!?!? There were 8 kinds of 3 varieties of 6 brands of barbeque flavor. It’s. Barbeque. It all tastes the same anyways!!?!? So that was a little troubling. After spending so much time away, I finally learned, and not in the purely philosophical sense; but truly understood what the fundamental difference is between a want and a need. It’s nice to have nice things. No one will question that. I reveled in the fact that I slept in a queen sized bed in a climate controlled room where it was quiet. I had nothing but unconditional reverence for the hot water heater. I was tempted to make a shrine in its honor. But those things are simply amenities. They are desirable and useful features to have available. I won’t ever mock them or ridicule them, because hanging out in a flowing stream of hot water first thing in the morning is downright celestial. Have I not yet mentioned your beer!??!! Free flowing like the nectar of the gods, available at any time, any store, any restaurant!! I attended multiple beer festivals and drank deep from the barley-laden cup of life! A year and a half was an incredibly long time. A substantial hoppy dry spell, if you will.

Despite all these things, I still have mixed emotions about my return. Sure, it was good to see everybody. It was incredibly fun to be back on a motorcycle again. I had a blast eating everything I saw. But my gluttony stemmed mainly from the fact that I was on vacation. I must tip my hat to Oregon. You were just as odd as I remember, if not more so. And while I was there, I witnessed all the things I loved about you, and all the reasons why I won’t go back. Like a summer fling, we had our fun, but I’m over you. No hard feelings.

There are many beautiful, tragic, interesting, startling, and thought provoking things in this world. I hope to see and experience them all. Please remind your more sedentary citizens that they too could use a change in perspective. I found it quite refreshing.

With ambivalence and farewells,

Tony