Posted in Life

Poking that watch into submission

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Luke Chesser on Unsplash

The other night when my small group met, I noticed a lot of Apple watches in the room. I don’t typically check out people’s wrist wear, but tonight the watches made themselves known. Notification sounds punctuated the dinner conversation, bible study, and prayer time. Each required a glance, a poke, and a scroll.

By a poke, a I mean a series of insistent jabs to make something happen. No one really buys into the idea of a touch screen. Most believe harder taps with more pressure will force the device to submit and respond. That and harsh words that I will not include here.

Apple touch screens detects electrical charges on your skin. There is more to it than that, but that’s the general idea. Sometimes, if you press slightly harder, a menu may come up for that app. A special stylus may also work. By the way, hitting the keys of your laptop keyboard will not get a quicker response, either.

I suppose some folks still remember hitting the side of the television (or computer monitor) to clear up the picture. Or a little smack on the bottom got them to behave.

It just doesn’t work that way anymore.

Posted in Life

Some laughs with Lefty the barber

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Caio Coelho on Unsplash

I had a new barber cut my hair yesterday. Same shop, just a new guy who started with them a few months ago. He was talkative and very witty. It was an unusual day, a rainy afternoon, and I was the only one in the shop.

According to his business card next to his clippers and combs, his name was Lefty. He starts out with, “So what are we doing today, Mr. full head of hair?”

I replied, “The guys usually use the number five attachment on the clippers for the side, then blend a little off the top. Tapered in the back. Not too short so I can still comb it.”

He said, “So, some bulk reduction, shape it up, got it. You know, I wish I could say that to my girlfriend. I love her, but she could use a little ‘bulk reduction.’ For some reason I always end up with bigger than usual women.”

He went on, “When I met her, she asked my last name. I told her it was Kaplan. She said, ‘Wow, I never met a real Jew before!'”

I shared that I had a lot of Jewish friends at college. I was always a little envious of all the Jewish festivals they got to celebrate.

“Yeah,” he said, “There’s that. But the food is terrible. Try choking down some gefilte fish mixed with matzah balls. No thanks.”

Changing the subject he asked, “So what do you do?”

I told him I was a retired pastor. He said, “I guess I better watch what I say.” And then he told me a few jokes about priests and nuns.

I said, “Now that I’m retired, I get to hear all the good jokes no one would tell me before.”

Lefty told me he was a stylist in Miami for most of his career. He retired and moved up here, but he was still cutting hair a few days a week. He did a good job, and his standup routine is pretty good, too.

Posted in dogs, Life

No instructions? No problem!

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Daniël Maas on Unsplash

I recently helped my daughter, husband, and two boys move into their brand new home. After moving all the heavy stuff in from a trailer, there were a few things to put together, like the boys’ beds.

With the help of a cousin, I assembled bed number one, the bigger of the two, without any trouble. Bed number two was more of a challenge. A few months ago, their golden retriever puppy had chewed up the corner of the box. No parts of the bed were damaged. But he managed to obliterate the instructions.

Since I’ve assembled more than my share of IKEA furniture, I felt confident this would be a breeze. Come on, it’s a just a twin bed with headboard and footboard. An uncle and I opened up the box and got out all the parts. Hmm. Many of the parts looked the same. The legs had lots of holes that had to match up with other holes. It wasn’t obvious which pieces were for the headboard and which were for the footboard.

Thankfully, enough of the box was intact and my partner could look up the model name and number. Once he brought up a picture of the bed from a shopping site, we knew what we had to do. All the screws were the same size, so we didn’t have to guess which ones went where. When we were done, the bed looked just like the picture.

I’ve had plenty of puppies chew up plenty of things in my home. My Labrador retriever Gabriel had a fondness for the heels of shoes and my roommate’s candles. Our chocolate Lab Rachel chewed up the legs of a borrowed rocking chair. We currently find teeth marks in the grandkids’ plastic toys. After a few ripped up rolls of toilet paper, we now keep the bathroom doors closed. The same pup who ate the bed frame instructions stole a couple of uncooked meatballs off the kitchen counter.

A friend of mine lost the cover of his bible to an enthusiastic pup. Just about everyone I know who wears hearing aids has lost one to a curious canine. It’s all part of the fun of being a dog owner.

Speaking of Gabriel (he’s the baseline against which we measure all our dogs), he once tore into a Christmas box my mom sent to us in Connecticut. The box arrived by UPS, and we knew it contained presents for the family. Gabe tore into the box and found the gift for him, a large, carefully wrapped rawhide bone. We came home and found him eagerly chewing on it. He didn’t bother, chew, or rip open anything else in the box. He just knew there was a gift for him in the box and he knew which one it was.

Posted in Life

Vivid backyard memories

Posted on by William Douthwaite
My childhood backyard from the bottom of the hill

The moment my daughter and her family moved into their new home, her boys were outside, running around and playing in the yard. They kicked soccer balls around with their cousins and threw balls for the dog to retrieve. The two previous houses they lived in had little yard to play in. This is so good for them!

What a blessing to have a yard to play in. The home I grew up in had the biggest fenced in backyard on the block. The yard included a big hill with flat areas at the top and bottom. We could roll down the hill pretty fast, crashing into the fence at the bottom. We had enough room to play baseball and football even though we had to climb over the fence to retrieve hits and kicks. In the fall, the maple trees left behind plenty of leaves for huge piles to jump in. In the winter, a little snow made our yard the best sledding hill around. By building a small ramp, we could get airtime with a saucer sled. We ate a lot of mulberries from the trees at the bottom of the hill. My friends and I build a great fort at the bottom with some wood my dad got from a salvage yard. The dogs we owned over the years loved to chase balls thrown from the top of the hill all the way down to the far corner until they were exhausted. We set up giant games of croquet that covered our half-acre.

As I write this, I am amazed at how vivid my backyard memories are from fifty-plus years ago!

Posted in Life

Whose house is this, anyway?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Kenny Eliason on Unsplash

The small group we’ve been a part of for the past year meets twice a month, rotating through the members’ homes. Last night, we met at a home I haven’t been to before. I had directions to the H******, but I had no idea who they were. I only know most people first names.

I thought I would be clever. I figured that I’d be able to pick up clues at the house and figure out who in our group lived there. I pride myself at noticing things, so I was confident it wouldn’t take me long to figure it out.

However, when I arrived and began looking around, the home had none of the usual clues. First there were no pictures of anyone on the walls. No pictures of children or grandchildren. No framed family pictures from an old church directory. No pictures of fishing trips or cruises or other adventures. Absolutely nothing. Nothing on the refrigerator. No calendar on the wall.

Okay, I guess that would have been too easy. If I keep looking around, I’ll pick up on a hobby and be able to connect the dots. While the home was nicely and simply decorated, I didn’t find any sign of their interests. A Willow Tree nativity sat on a shelf high above the television. The table where we ate was decorated with starfish and sea shells. There were no bookshelves in the living room. There was an electric piano in the dining area, but that didn’t help me.

I watched everyone’s body language. Who acted most at home here? It was hard to tell. I let myself in when I arrived, so no one was working the front door. Lots of people were working in the kitchen, arranging food for supper. Several people sat in the very comfortable chairs in the living area. The family dog greeted everyone with the same enthusiasm.

Finally, I resorted to a process of elimination. One couple arrived late, so I knew it wasn’t them. I realized I had been to the homes of three of the other couples. So this was the home of the fifth.

I enjoy playing games like this, gathering enough clues to solve the puzzle.

Posted in Life, Travel

The darkest darkness

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by David Gabrić on Unsplash

For our autumn getaway, see some color, enjoy some cooler weather trip we found a remote cabin on a hillside in western North Carolina. To get there, we had to drive to the end of a twisty mile-long gravel road, where there was no one else in sight.

Each night I made sure we were back from hiking or small town exploring by dark. The access road was difficult enough in daylight. No way I was going to tackle it at night.

But each evening before bed, I did have to take the dog for one last walk. On one occasion I switched off my flashlight just to see how dark it was. It was dark. It was the darkest darkness I’ve ever experienced. Cloudy skies hid the moon and stars. No far off light from a nearby town reached this area, because there was no nearby town. I couldn’t see the road I was standing on. I couldn’t see the trees around us. I couldn’t see the cabin. It was around the bend. I couldn’t see the white dog at the end of a leash. I couldn’t see anything.

I remember thinking, “If my flashlight quits, I’m not sure how I’ll find my way back.” On subsequent walks, I made sure I had my phone in my pocket for a backup flashlight. Maybe my eyes would have adjusted. Maybe I’d be able to see a little bit. Maybe not.

I remember asking a group of middle school students, “What is the darkest hour of the night?” It was one of the few times they said, “That’s a good question.” It is a good question. Poetic wisdom says it’s always darkest before the dawn. And how do you measure darkness, anyway?

Anyway, the darkness was impressive. Not eerie, not scary, just complete. Where else is it really dark? A cave. A closet. Inside a refrigerator with the door closed. When the power goes out at night. When you shut your eyes at night?

Posted in dogs, Moments of grace

Life is fun when everyone is your best friend

Posted on by William Douthwaite

On our way back to the cabin one afternoon, we stopped at a small collection of stores by the side of Rt. 23 in Rabun County, Georgia. A jewelry store was flanked by a general store and several antique stores. Since we had our dog Winston with us, I sat out front in a rocking chair while my wife went to check out the shops.

Everyone passing by wants to meet our uber-energetic little white dog who sincerely believes everyone in this world is his best friend.

Phil, owner of the jewelry store was the first to come out to chat. He told me how he makes everything in his shop himself, specializing in native American items. Phil had several rescued dogs and cats at home. Whenever he lay down, one would perch on his head the others cuddled up on each side of him. Winston was thrilled to check out the scent of Phil’s pets. Even though there were “No Pets” signs in the windows, Phil said that everyone here loves dogs.

The next gentleman who stopped to visit explained that he had just adopted a rescue dog. He named his dog Deeohgee (D-O-G). It took me a minute to figure out he didn’t just name his dog Dog. Reminds me of a person I used to visit who named her cat Kitty. Winston was glad this guy had plenty of time to pet him.

A woman walking a very tiny dog stopped by next. Tails were up, furiously wagging five times a second as their noses came together. After a few curious sniffs, the little dog was spooked and backed away from Winston’s playful lunge. A little sniff-and-greet made everyone’s day.

A young couple walked by next, coming out of the general store and headed towards the antiques. He led the way, nodding as he passed, while she followed with arms crossed several steps behind. Neither one looked very happy. I guess they were determined to go antiquing whether they liked it or not. When they came out of the antique store, their disposition hadn’t changed as they walked by in the other direction on the way to their car. Winston so wanted to cheer them up, but they weren’t in the mood.

One more couple greeted us. He had been waiting in a rocking chair, just like me, outside the general store. When she came out with a package, he joined her and they walked past with a friendly greeting. Winston could barely contain himself, but they had to be on their way.

I’ll tell you, life is never dull when everyone is your best friend. What if we all had that attitude?

Posted in Life

Just park wherever

Posted on by William Douthwaite

After poking around the antique store for a while, my wife and I found an outdoor table at Gracious Plates, an eatery on Main Street. It was a warmer than expected first day in Franklin, North Carolina.

I watch this Mercedes SUV slowlying and deliberately park on top of the line, occupying both spaces right in front of the restaurant. A couple who looked much older than us very slowly made their way into the restaurant. I didn’t have to say a word. My wife knew exactly what I was thinking. But I wondered out loud anyway, “Think that will be us in twenty years?”

As we ate, I watched a cement truck slowly backing in inches away from the expensive vehicle as a road crew waited to finish up some street repairs. My wife made me laugh as she said, “I’ll bet they’re sweating now!”

Maybe that’s the way you do things around here. Ten minutes later this second SUV parks in front of us making no attempt to stay in the lines.

Posted in Stories

Twelve Spies

Posted on by William Douthwaite

“There must be a winery around here.”

We had just finished hiking a little piece of the Appalachian Trail and a nice glass of red on a cool, sunny, fall afternoon seemed appropriate. I pulled into a scenic overlook and found a better cell signal. There were many wineries to choose from nearby, but most were closed on Wednesdays.

Ah, here’s one: Twelve Spies Vineyards in Rabun Gap, GA. I didn’t think much about the name. Twenty minutes away. “We’ll-behaved dogs welcome.” Let’s go check it out.

It was a small place surrounded by lots and lots of unoccupied picnic tables and beautiful mountain views. We and the person behind the counter were the only ones there.

She welcomed us and offered us a tasting. We decided to just get a couple of glasses. I had a merlot and Lisa chose a dry red blend. A pack of salami, cheese, and crackers, plus a couple of chocolate truffles and we were all set.

As we sat and enjoyed the afternoon, I took a close look at my glass. It was etched with a line drawing of two men carrying a huge bunch of grapes on a pole between them, captioned “Numbers 13:33.”

I get it! When Moses sent twelve spies into Canaan, they brought back a giant cluster of grapes to show everyone what a bountiful land was just across the Jordan River.

What a great name for a vineyard. How many folks would understand the story behind the name? Well, here in the Bible Belt, where you pass a church every half-mile, probably quite a few get it.