A Few Inches; A Thousand Miles

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December 22, 2025, Grapevine- About 6:40 a.m., CST, I got the message: Hana Penny Boivin had arrived safely, traveling the short, but sometimes harrowing distance from her mother’s womb to the waiting hands of an obstetrician. She immediately sought her mother’s embrace-and food. My first grandchild weighed in at 7 lbs, 2 oz and is about 18 ” long. She has healthy lungs and an assertive nature. There is no guessing if she wants something. That’s our girl!

I came 1,060 miles to be with this wondrous soul and her parents. I would have come 3,000 miles , or 7,000. Now I can safely say that, once two remaining items of business are completed (Finishing up in Prescott and making a promised visit to dear friends elsewhere) are completed, my focus, physically, emotionally and financially, will be primarily on this family of mine.

It is no secret that this little girl captured my heart, way back eight months ago. Prayers have gone out every morning, including this one. They’ve been answered, mightily. She has strong, proactive parents, so I am even more confident that this person is going to be an achiever. My main role is cheering from the sidelines. It may be a bit premature, but this song by Neil Diamond comes to mind.

“I’m Up Here”

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March 9, 2020-

The above statement is often made by a woman who is reacting, in a gently upbraiding manner, to having a man (or boy) focusing his attention on her torso.  I haven’t had that sort of correction being offered me, up to now, though it’s been a self-teaching process, over the years, to direct my attention to a person’s eyes, as we are engaged in conversation.  My autism had me looking down, anyway, so I recognize the imperative of eye contact- if for no other reason than to establish trust.  Besides, it takes three seconds to ascertain if someone is physically attractive; there’s no reason to stare.

It seems to be working, especially these past fifteen years, and definitely of late.  The ubiquity of  those who are either wearing tight clothing, or are “scantily clad” is something I’ve come to regard as mostly for the person’s comfort.  I find Millennial and Generation Z females both more modest in their interpersonal behaviour and more assertive with regard to their rights in the public sphere, than many of my generation were at the same age.  That may not be everyone else’s conclusion, but it’s what I see, in the course of my work, in my travels and at musical gatherings, such as the one I attended yesterday.  Then again, there is the fact that my relationship to the rising generations is one of mentoring, affirmation and overall support.

I like to engage people “up here”.

Back In The Saddle

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August 22, 2019-

I got in a full-day’s work today, after five months’ hiatus.  Of course, there hasn’t been a lot of idleness during that time, but I have missing being around children and youth, on  a regular basis, nipping at my consciousness.

Today went very well.  The few who wanted to mess around, didn’t meet with much success.  I am long past the point where I let mischief get to me.  On the other hand, I don’t let it spread.  The rules of the day are set by the regular teacher, so the parameters are already in place.

Children and teens know this is how things work, and those with whom I interact are quite relieved that I am not here to be a slacker.  Simply put, this brief period of my presence in their lives needs to be of support for their broader plans, hopes and dreams, and of deterrence to the obstacles, both self-induced and put in place by others, that would derail those broader plans.

My goal:  To be of maximum support, to each young person who comes into a room where I am working.