Archive for 'Larger Forces at Work'
“So MANY good boys were killed…”
February 18, 2012 by Ronn Ives, under Larger Forces at Work.
Today would have been my Mother’s 87th birthday… but she died last October 31st.
In her honor, I’d like to repost a piece from eleven years ago before she was lost in the disease of Alzheimers…
December 8, 2001:
Sixty years and one day ago it was December 7, 1941 in South Bend, Indiana. Out in the driveway was Shirley Jean with her Dad. It was cold out. The warming car felt cozy. Maybe it was Benny Goodman or Duke Ellington on the car radio. Everyone was just waking up. The neighborhood was quiet as Russ backed the car out onto Eckman street.
Suddenly, the DJ broke in to allow a broadcast of President Roosevelt. The Empire of Japan had, without warning, attacked military bases at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. There was a massive death count of American soldiers and civilians, with many more wounded. Wordless, father and daughter stared at one another and the dashboard while the car idled in the middle of their street.
“I wasn’t yet seventeen. I didn’t know anyone in the service. There were very few people in the military. We weren’t involved in the war in Europe. Of course we knew about Hitler, and some of what he was doing… but it was far away, and just seemed like THEIR problem.”
“Of course, there was NO other topic of discussion the next day in school. No one could concentrate on the regular subjects. It was so hard to believe, but we knew it was true. We didn’t have television or live video… but we knew this was no ‘War of the Worlds’ radio joke. It changed all of our lives forever. No one from then will ever forget. No one. So many good boys were killed. It was terrible… but it HAD to be done. We had to protect ourselves. They weren’t going to stop. We had to stop them.”
“It was so sad that President Roosevelt, who’d seen us through the Great Depression and most of the War, died just before we’d won. We felt so bad about that. On V-E (Victory in Europe) Day, I was working downtown at ‘Spiro’s’ department store. It was about an hour before quitting time when the news came that Germany had surrendered. This was great news about Europe… but we knew it wasn’t over. There was still more war with Japan…”
“Your Uncle ‘Bo’ went to Germany during their period of Occupation. On VJ (Victory in Japan) Day, we heard the news over the radio from President Truman. Japan had surrendered. We didn’t know exactly WHY yet. It didn’t matter. EVERYBODY WENT NUTS! All of us working downtown just left our posts, and ran outside with the customers into Michigan Street. Everyone was hugging and kissing and dancing. THE WAR WAS OVER NOW!”
“I hope people don’t forget what we’ve had to go through, as a country…”
(These are excerpts from talking with my Mom, Shirley Jean, this morning over the telephone.)
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“We’re here because we’re here”
February 12, 2012 by Ronn Ives, under Larger Forces at Work.
Last night – despite it being very cold and a snow starting up – my wife and I went to a new restaurant in another city… not because we chase new dining experiences – we’re NOT that type – but because this was a fund raiser by an organization who helps homeless children, and because the feature of the evening was eight+ speakers, each scheduled to tell a story from his/her life… and because we knew some of the people involved.
(The event was filmed. At the end of this piece is the link. You’ll like the stories! Go have a listen!)
The organizer/cheerleader did her job through the evening, and, while on stage, blurted out a phrase that made me think she had northern or eastern Midwest American roots. She said:
“Okie dokie!”
This morning, that phrase got me thinking of things my Dad used to say to us kids growing up in northern Indiana. A big one was always proclaimed when we arrived somewhere. He’d say: “We’re here because we’re here!“ Well… okay Dad… that’s tough to argue… I never quite got it, but it became its own Truth because I heard it so much and because Dad said it.
I told my wife about it. My guess / analysis? This was something soldiers would say – an attitude they would have – especially during war. They went where they were told. “We’re here because we’re here. Accept it. End of discussion.” Her very first comment (ironically, after complaining this morning about the Carpal Tunnel Syndrome aches in her hands from so much typing on computers) was: “Word Search it! You’ll probably get the answer!”
It’s funny how you think your Dad or Grandma or that old neighbor “owned” a word or phrase or idea… and you’ve never questioned its authorship. It’s MEANING? Yes. AUTHORSHIP? No.
So I did a search. It popped up immediately! “We’re here because we’re here“. British, World War ONE, a repeating phrase, sung to the tune of “Auld Lang Syne”, as soldiers went to the trenches. My logic was solid.
NOW it made even MORE sense. I’d never heard anyone else say it. I’ll bet Dad picked it up during World War TWO when he was stationed in Britain and Scotland (sometimes being housed by locals) for B-17 bombing runs over Europe. The puzzle pieces fit beautifully… and, I like the idea.
http://www.homesforkids.org/get_involved/andThatsMyStoryPerformers.html
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Let the Fragile Illusion Continue
February 5, 2012 by Ronn Ives, under Larger Forces at Work, What Really Matters.
George Harrison died in 2001. Twenty years earlier, John Lennon was murdered. Each of their deaths had a very different effect on me.
We’ve come to almost expect people in the music business (and the other arts) to be self-destructive – dying “too young”. This is NOT the exclusive history of Baby Boomers and their Rock & Roll heroes. Just two words to make my point: Billie Holiday. But when a NOBODY simply walks up in the dark out of nowhere with no warning and guns down a famous person (especially one you admire), and offers no explanation (not even a crazy one), it’s a shock. THAT musician was supposed to go on – creating more of their Art.
Harrison died of throat cancer. I don’t know its cause, but many of his career photos show a cigarette nearby. It’s a choice. My Great Uncle Willis collapsed dead in the hallway of the hospital sneaking a smoke while being treated for lung cancer. As did his sister, my grandma. As did her son, my father. None the less, Harrison was 58 – only 7 years older than me – and his Time was up. All Things Must Pass. Paul lost his wife Linda to breast cancer, but he, along with Ringo – as “Beatles”, true markers in the lives of so many – still live.
Let the fragile illusion continue as it can. We want our heroes with us. I heard Elvis was spotted at a truck stop near Omaha, Nebraska just last week. The King lives!!
“My sweet Lord, I really want to be with you.”
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Recycling
February 2, 2012 by Ronn Ives, under Larger Forces at Work.
I tell people that one of my main jobs is to SAVE the lives of THINGS until I can get them into the home of their next Protector. I’m merely the Foster Parent. After an antique is purchased from me, it’s all up to the new owner for an unknown number of years.
As I sit with my antiques, I watch the passing seasons. I know what I am seeing will pass, be replaced by another, and then return but never identically.
Today I watched a hearse lead a funeral procession north up my street. Moments later I watched a city recycling truck drive south down my street. A few minutes later, I watched a casket company truck go the opposite direction.
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January 29, 2012 by Ronn Ives, under Larger Forces at Work.
Speaks for itself.
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Individual cells of one brain
January 25, 2012 by Ronn Ives, under Larger Forces at Work.
It was only six weeks after 9-11.
I was standing outside watching a huge flock of Starlings. Chris, a good friend, dropped by for a visit. The flock was so large and the birds so loud he too stopped to watch and listen.
Amazing. As they would lift into the air – thousands per second – it was if they all shared a plan. They moved in organic unison. I said to Chris “It’s like they’re all individual cells of one brain…” Although considered common, I think Starlings are amazing for the way they move as a mass, and beautiful when their deep purple-blue-black iridescent feathers glow in sunlight.
Countless Starlings rose like violent black smoke – spinning, floating, and turning in the air with the coordinated timing of a Chinese Olympic half-time show. Suddenly, I noticed ONE Crow inside the flock of Starlings. It was “dancing” with them – keeping pace, moving to their moves – just him – and thousands of the much smaller black birds. “He must admire them and regret his own kind doesn’t do this,” I joked.
Down the sidewalk and between buildings, dry, fallen leaves were being caught by the winds – lifted and spun through the air in large batches – moving as the Starlings.
“I wonder… if we were high over the city… we would see humans moving in similar patterns… You know, by design, or something…” I said. Chris suspected the same. Later today, after he left, I remembered the film “Koyaanisqatsi”, by Godfrey Reggio, with music by Philip Glass. It’s a non-dialog, almost narrative-free film of images on Earth, including a lot of patterning we humans create.
Poetry in the theater, on the sidewalk, in the sky.
Take your choice.
But choose.
It’d be a shame to miss it all.
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Knee Jerks
December 21, 2011 by Ronn Ives, under Larger Forces at Work.
I am ALWAYS amazed at this:
Over the twenty years I had my storefront, there were always a number of fully restored, wonderful, vintage, rotary telephones available for sale (I love those machines!), and, almost without exception, when someone spied the phones, s/he would pick up the receiver and hold it to his/her ear. When nothing was heard, they’d often tap the “hangup” mechanism as though this would make a difference – like in the movies. Maybe it’s just me – but it struck me as odd. The phones were NOT plugged in. The entire cord was visible!
And, seeings-how I never let a little thought ALONE, it makes me wonder what else any of us DO on a daily basis that could be labeled as “automatic & useless” gestures. Knee-jerk motions.
Perhaps if we paid attention, found them, and REMOVED THEM from our repertoire, we’d have all this extra energy and time… maybe even save money somehow… and could REPLACE these habits with “specific and useful” gestures.
?
So… I’ll rummage around in my life and see what I can find… I’ll get back to you on this one… (pause)
… This is difficult! Every time I come up with a contender, I find it HAS a function. Often, it’s a gesture that adds a small amount of pleasure to my daily events or has a preventative side to it – a small gesture that adds up to larger effects over the years…
Examples:
- “Pleasure”: I COULD buy those pre-measured “Mr. Coffee” bags, which are merely dropped into your perker and away you go with an identical brew each and every time. But… I like to vary how I make my coffee – depending upon mood, taste, guests, condition of my stomach, and need for caffeine.
- “Preventative”: I had specific carpet runners cut and edged for the staircases in our home. To replace them will be a lot of trouble. So… I sometimes use the left side, or right side, or middle of the stairs. Why wear a path into them faster than necessary? Does it add up? Of course. Is it IMPORTANT?
Nah, I can’t necessarily say that…
but I feel better by doing it.
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Interesting Facts and Warm Nostalgia
December 16, 2011 by Ronn Ives, under Close Encounters, Larger Forces at Work.
Interesting Facts and Warm Nostalgia
by Ronn Ives, owner of FUTURES Antiques
FACTS:
Most people do not read. They probably CAN but are so unwilling to do so, they risk their lives. This is why, for example, a street’s “STOP” sign is also a recognizable shape and color.
“FUTURES Antiques
Antiques, Collectibles, and Cultural Artifacts”
…yet nearly every day someone would find their way into my store and ask something like “You sell jumper cables for cars?” On a good day (when I was properly fueled on caffeine) I had snappy answers for them… but they never understood anyhow. Hell, one day I sat at my desk and watched someone try to unravel the complexity of my entry door – you know, one of those doors with a grab handle that you pull towards you and the door opens? This person failed – and eventually walked away. I decided he would be a losing proposition anyhow. Odds were great I had not lost an actual customer.
On that same door – right next to that same handle needing finding, grabbing, and pulling – was a sign made of bright aqua paper with bold, black lettering stating:
“NO DRINK, NO FOOD, NO UNSUPERVISED CHILDREN”
…and every day it was ignored, and every day I had to approach the non-readers and ask them personally to respect those legible safeguards.
There are thousands of similar examples, as you might expect.
Taken on a case by case basis, you wouldn’t consider it a big deal, especially those of you who have never worked with the public for a living. But, there is a cumulative effect in the day, week, month, year, and decades that, for some of us, does not entirely evaporate on the drive home every night. (Trust me – there are plenty of people nodding in agreement right now!)
When your first customer of the day is drunk, has feral two-year olds, behaves like a thief or an entitled princess who Hath Arriveth, it starts things out on the wrong foot, and often sets a tone hard to shake. In other words, YOU may be a great person but that creep before you left a psychic (and sometimes physical) stench still clinging to the store owner.
Try to be understanding.
The owner may have been at their store hours early to reestablish displays and aisles after a big move or been there all night with the emergency glass people replacing very expensive show windows smashed out by roving lunatics. This is NOT the time to say “I was here exactly on time, and you’re opening ten minutes late!!”
Understand? Those owners WANT to be open!! They DON’T want the troubles inevitably brought on them. THIS is NOT their hobby or a sport. YOUR leisure activity of shopping is THEIR very serious livelihood. They spend a fortune just trying to keep things nice so when you walk in you can feel comfortable and not notice any problems.
For the twenty years my “brick-and-mortar” store was open, I had numerous, simultaneous signals that said “I AM NOW OPEN”. There was my sidewalk A-frame sign, my sidewalk furniture, my hours on the door, my “OPEN”/ “CLOSED” sign on the door, and if you missed all that, my neon sign in screaming red and blue that also said “OPEN” !!! But, since I had to go in early 90% of the time to prepare the store for the public, I soon learned to immediately lock the door behind me AND leave the lights off while I worked. Since people don’t read, they’ll yank at the door anyhow, and man, if the lights are ON, fergitabowdit – they yank and rattle and knock and yell at the door demanding it open. Lights are on? “Damnit, you must be OPEN and I AM HERE !” If the owner is VISIBLE?? Double-damnit, “Let me in, I want to look around !! I’m going keep pounding at this door until you come give me attention ! I want ATTENTION !!”
Let me put it this way: I’ve been called a racist, an asshole, and plenty of other things because I cared and went to work early.
A few things to probably avoid:
If you’re wheelchair bound, call the specialty store 24 hours in advance, explain the situation, and they will, as I did (when at all possible) adjust their displays for you ! Don’t show up unannounced and demand the entire store be rearranged for you on spot or you’ll file a lawsuit. (Yes, this really happened, and I treated this woman as an Equal by telling her what I thought and what she could do with herself. Sorry, I cannot repeat it here.) Some people HATE being treated as Equals, no matter what they spout.
If you have kids, you may understand what they can, cannot, will, or won’t do when in public. HOW any parent can think that all commercial spaces (which are not “public” spaces, by the way) are multi-functional and offer themselves as a “playland” or “discover zone” while the adults shop is amazing to me, but it happens every day. (And I can assure you most of these parents would NOT and possibly COULD NOT pay for the damage created by their darlings.) I’ve actually heard: “Hey ! It’s the price of doing BUSINESS !! THAT’S what you got insurance for !!” (Again, I cannot repeat some of my responses here.. but I can repeat this one: “Get OUT, NOW, and IF by some weird chance YOU actually have a ‘friend’ (?), tell her not to come here either.”)
Again, there are thousands of similar examples.
For any of you who think there might be an off-chance that once in a great while you behave anything even a little like this… consider this challenge: try getting through one day as though you were each of the people you directly encounter. Put yourself in THEIR places. I promise it will come easier and easier with practice. And, as you become proficient, YOUR day will become nicer and nicer because more and more people will be GLAD you’re there.
For every creep I faced, I had another eight people who were simply out browsing, enjoying themselves, and did not cause upset in the world. For every creep I faced, I also had one beam of Light – someone who always arrived with warmth, humor, intelligence, and understanding. I ADORED those people.
Nine out of ten ain’t bad. Some of my best friends began as unknown customers. I’ve been a lucky man.
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Another interesting FACT from Ronn Ives, former educator and ongoing owner of FUTURES Antiques: “There are three types of learning. Each person relies heavily on one type. You are either an Audio learner, a Visual learner, or a Tactile learner. The Tactile learners don’t even notice they’re handling everything. EVERY thing. They therefore take the greatest financial risks but are probably the most fun as spouses.”
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“Music plays an amazing role in creating an atmosphere in a business. In my storefront business, I played a huge variety of music… from African tribal to antique Caruso opera to Brian Eno’s ambient to Girl Groups of the early 1960′s to Big Band of the 30′s and 40′s. Most people enjoyed the exposure. Some people hated it. If the music was unfamiliar, those people would become uncomfortable they’d exit early. I learned that some music was SO “the kiss of death” in FUTURES, I had to be VERY selective as to how much, when, and at what volume. For example, I love antique Turkish cabaret music, yet for many visitors they understood it as “terrorist” music, and became agitated. Seriously. And, without exception, Australian Aborigine folk music scared everyone.”
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“When shopping, most people don’t look up or down. If an item is within their normal, non-neckbending vision range, only then will they see it.”
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“People who read price tags before they spend time looking at the antiques are least likely to actually make a purchase.”
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“Most people turn right and follow the wall when entering a store.”
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“Typical antiquers browse a shop by taking their time and studying the antiques (which are generally on shelves at eye level or lower, plus furniture sitting on the floor). However, typical thieves (whether they arrive in rags or riches) – NEVER known for their intelligence – enter the store with a fake facial expression of interest in antiques, while they generally look high up the walls and at the ceiling. Why? Because they’re checking for security systems, mirrors, cameras, alarms, detectors, etc.. So, just for fun, I would stick to them like glue, asking tons of ‘friendly, curious’ questions about THEIR antique collections (!) until they gave up and exited, or, until they spotted my used body outline firing range target with forty five Smith & Wesson .357 magnum holes in its heart. Hey, when you sit in a store all day, you get your entertainment where you can find it…”
(More to come…)
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NOSTALGIA:
Nostalgia from Ronn Ives, owner of FUTURES Antiques: “Yes, I remember back in the early daze when people had but two phrases for ALL things in my store: 1) “Man, THIS is OLD – Gramma had one!” and 2) “How can this be here if I’M still here??!.”
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And: “Yes, I remember back in the early daze when FUTURES offered the completely unacceptable: Design and Art from the 1950′s. Then I also offered the 1960′s. Then the 1970′s. Now also the 1980′s. Every move forward has been met with suspicion (“WAIT. Am I getting older?!”), and pleasure (“Hey, I had one of those!”), and new eyes (“Now that I see one again, that really IS cool!”), and regret (Damn! We destroyed ours!”).
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And: “Yes, I remember back in the early daze when FUTURES was THEN, NOW… sort of like this moment, but not exactly.”
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And: “Yes, I remember back in the early daze when FUTURES was a cabin in the middle of the piney woods and when I’d step outside to smoke my corncob pipe, arrows would come whooshing past me and stick into the door.”
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And: “Yes, I remember back in the early daze when I was told FUTURES wouldn’t last six months… One of those people STILL walks with a limp.”
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And: “Yes, I remember back in the early daze when FUTURES was based in three locations at the same time… up near Washington D.C., in Phoebus Virginia, and Norfolk Virginia… then I began taking my medications.”
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And finally: “Yes, I remember back in the early daze when FUTURES was based in three locations at the same time… in Gloucester Virginia, in Phoebus Virginia, and Norfolk Virginia… and I began taking my medications… but it would take awhile for them to work.”
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(More to come…)
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I was never Patriotic
December 7, 2011 by Ronn Ives, under Larger Forces at Work.
I was never “Patriotic“.
Even as a child, the early morning classroom ritual of repeating the “Pledge of Allegiance” struck me as empty. I could’ve repeated those words in my sleep (which was NEARLY the case anyhow). They became abstract sounds with all potential meaning lost to me… like so many other rituals demanded of children.
By high school in the late 1960′s, The Pledge continued in our classrooms, but I refused to participate. I stood during the ritual but would not repeat the words nor place my right arm across my heart. It was The Times… initially the mere Fashion Statement of a young, sheltered, counter-culture wannabee, but, as I approached military draft age, my refusal was a serious gesture with as many real consequences as I was willing to face: BOTTOM LINE – the real threat of death in a far-away jungle for a cause I could not support.
Viet Nam slowly came and went “without” my direct participation. None of us were left untouched, but I wasn’t forced to deal with the draft issue by joining, leaving this country, going to prison, or becoming a Conscientious Objector. For that, I’m grateful. (I DID leave the U.S. during those years, and it was due to The Times, but only because I was sick and tired of what I saw and how I felt about it.) And, I had friends who never had the chance to return Home.
Over forty years have passed. Those years had nothing to do with issues of Patriotism. My days were centered on my careers, my art, my daily life and my relationships. My personal version of “patriotism” was feeling love for, and a willingness to defend, the important parts of my life.
By now, on Pearl Harbor Day 2011, my self-chosen education has increased a hundred-fold, and my feelings are broader and hold much more gratitude for those who made possible my freedom to grow up at an admittedly slow rate.
Pearl Harbor: seventy years ago today.
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Cruising at the Proper Speed
December 5, 2011 by Ronn Ives, under Larger Forces at Work.
The weather CANNOT get any prettier than it is today. FALL is, by far, “MY” season. Especially early and mid Fall. It always, ALWAYS has been.
I have deep, cellular memories of loving Fall as a child… no doubt even as a baby. It vibrates at the same rate as me – not just in how it appears, but how it sounds, how it smells, and how it feels. It encourages me to calm down. It’s the time of year when I go for the most walks; sit outside with a cup of coffee; nap in less familiar places; think more about the past and the present both; and feel a little sad, but appreciate it. I hear the scrambling toenails of squirrels in our trees; I smell the fallen leaves dying; I see the sun setting in a new place; I feel the warmth of the day soaked into all things, while the air gains a chill.
I love Fall.
It’s time to plan ahead for my hibernation. The firewood still needs to be acquired, there may be a small insulation job that could be done, a coat of wax on the car wouldn’t hurt… but mainly I just want to cruise at the proper speed, so to speak.