Monday, November 06, 2006

Great Grandpa M 1911 – 2006

I’m pretty sure my grandpa (Connor’s great grandpa) would agree - ninety-five years is a long time to live. When he was born, the average life expectancy was around 50. Now, it’s about 78. Either way, he beat the odds – and with remarkably few interventions. To put how old he was when he died last Thursday into perspective - he began life before the crossword puzzle was invented (1913). Until he was 9, when he skinned his knees, his mother couldn’t give him a Band-Aid to make it “all better” (invented in 1920) – let alone a Band-Aid with colorful characters to distract him from the pain. He didn’t have to fear getting a ticket for parking at an expired meter until he turned 21 – and though we never discussed it, I’m fairly certain he never received such a ticket. Just not his style.

My grandpa lived through the Dust Bowl (he was in his early twenties) – and relayed stories that enthralled Ed when we visited in 2001. It was the summer we got married and a few weeks before we were scheduled to head home for a post-wedding celebration, my grandpa called to see if I would be paying him a visit. This is the first - and only - time I remember my grandpa calling me. Long distance costs money, you know.


The first canned beer was made when he turned 24 – but the marketers certainly had someone beside my grandpa in mind when they came up with this. According to the biography my grandpa sketched out some time ago, he tasted beer exactly once, and considered it a mistake. Same goes for tobacco. For those who knew me in my pre-mom days, you might be wondering if it is possible that I am genetically related to this man. My father assures me I am.

When my grandpa turned 27, the ballpoint pen was invented – and here is finally something that caught his fancy. He used to have a pegboard with probably about 100 (maybe more) oddly shaped pens fastened onto it that hung so that anyone heading down the basement stairs could see it. I remember one particular pen shaped like a hammer. I suspect the collection went to the dumpster when he moved out of his home 4 years ago, along with the car license plate he was issued that bore the same number as his house one year – 1202. The license plate hung on the garage.

When my grandpa turned 29, Dairy Queen came into existence, and thankfully for my sister and I, there was one about 3 blocks away from my grandparents’ home. During the summer, we would walk there and get ice cream cones for a dime. ParTay!

Super glue was invented the year my grandpa turned 40. And that’s a bummer for my dad. Family legend has it that my dad’s tricycle once broke in two as he was heading to see my grandpa. This magical substance perhaps could’ve extended that ol’ trike’s days. But then again, maybe something more along the lines of welding was in order.

The year I was born, my grandpa retired. I only hope to have so many years not ensconced with fluorescent lighting.

I remember the motor home my grandparents used to travel in, his bolo tie, and the year we went out to eat at a Chinese restaurant for Christmas and he wore a red shirt with a purple KSU sweatshirt, and of course, the tie. It still makes me laugh. My dad has never been a slave to the latest trends, and I guess he comes by it honestly.

My grandfather, always the stalwart Republican, proudly claimed to have never voted for a Democrat. I don’t remember my exact response, but I do remember I was in college and less likely to exercise the tact I now exercise in situations like this. Let’s just say, it was clear to him I did not share his political views, and I do not regret that honesty. And here’s the lesson, Connor. Don’t be afraid to tell someone the truth – unless that means telling your mama you’re voting for a Republican. By the time you can do that, I'll be an old woman and you're unlikely to convince me of the folly of my ways.

Connor met his great-grandpa on two occasions. The last visit we were there, Connor seemed impressed by the wheelchair and was delighted that there were several photos on a shelf he had access to. And of course, Connor had no trouble finding them. It’s a little too bad that Connor hadn’t been introduced to sweet things yet, because my grandparents seemed to have lots of sweets at their retirement home. My sister once told her kids that they were going for a “visit” – not a “buffet”.

I can only imagine how crazy some of the things invented in Connor’s lifetime will seem to me – and who knows which ones I’ll make use of. Perhaps the sweetest thing I can tell you about your great-grandpa, Connor, is that he stayed married to the same woman for 73 years. That’s one hell of a commitment. You can’t just invent something as enduring as that.

Elaine