It must be nice....

I was chatting with a friend the other day about family and life, when they said to me, 

“It must be nice to have children that grow up to be good people.”

Those words swept over me like a surge in the calm waters of the gulf I live on, not disturbing me, but almost moving through and around me at the same time.

“It must be nice to have children that grow up to be good people.”

  

It kept reverberating in my head as so many of the moments in my children’s lives flashed in my minds eye with each wave.  The conversation moved on, but the gentle waves kept coming,

“It must be nice to have children that grow up to be good people.”

It is.

I am proud of them.

They are good people.

I am proud to point to each and every one of them and tell others about them.  I can’t imagine ever feeling different about them, even when they irritate the hell out of me on occasion.
I have more than a handful , but short of the dozen that supposedly would have made them less expensive.  And each one of them could not be more different than each of the others. 

The only thing I would change in their collective lives if I could, would be to remove pain and sorrow.

Some say, “But how would they know true joy without suffering?”
My answer to them would be "I did not have to lose a daughter, to know and appreciate the joy of having her siblings in my life".

One needs not suffer lack, to be satisfied with enough.  One needs not suffer pain, to experience bliss. Nor sorrow, to be filled with happiness.  One simply needs to be a good person.

“It must be nice to have children that grow up to be good people.”

It is.

REB

Real life lessons keep on unfolding themselves.

He was standing just a few feet from the bottom of the steps in the sand on the beach, looking like a surrealistic commentary on life. He resembled a rather dignified European waiter holding in his left hand what appeared to be a platter of pastries stacked almost a foot high and a very large electric box fan in the other. His rather worn clothes and backpack were a clue to his domestic state.

I was walking along the surf as part of my usual routine. There are many unusual people that pass through this island, and it is not uncommon to see a soul that has lost their grasp on what most consider normal. And so when I returned to those same steps where the CHD (crazy homeless dude) had been standing, I was surprised, but not entirely shocked that the CHD had taken my flipflips, which I had left neatly at the bottom of the steps as I had intended to walk in the water.

I was slightly annoyed that I had been "robbed" of the chance to blow those old flipflops out, but was able to laugh about it and posted a little note on fb saying:
 
Today's life lesson: If you don't want the crazy homeless dude with a tray of donuts stacked a foot high in one hand and an electric 36 inch window fan in the other to steal your flipflops, then dont leave them by the steps while you walk in the surf!

I spent several hours off & on that day looking for the new flipflops my wife had given me and finally when I thought all was lost, discovered where they had been hidden. The night came to it's usual end and I awoke to another Monday.
With my new flipflops on, I walked down the seawall, as is my custom. Down the steps, as is my custom.
And what greeted me at the bottom of those steps?

My old flipflops.

 I laughed a deep belly laugh when I saw them, returned to me as it were.

I had not really been offended by his trespass. For whatever reasons something has broken him. He needed my flipflops that day and had I returned to them in time, he might have even asked me if he could borrow them to get to his destination. Instead, he "borrowed" them without asking.

He may have felt remorse, or not. But he returned them to the place he took them from with just a bit more wear on them. He may have been watching to see that I got them, or he may have left them in the early morning half-light and scurried away.

Whatever the case, I am reminded that things are not always as they appear.

REB

Galveston 43rd St. Restoration project is not friendly to the property owners along 43rd St.

Hey All,

I do feel a bit like biting heads off today, but I will endeavor to discuss the "facts" with as few editorial barbs as I can. I am making no promises though.

At the end of March, sometime around the 25th, I noticed a work crew that was marking some trees and shrubs along 43rd St. with colored tape. When I asked them what was going on and if my trees would be affected, they gave me a flyer that said basically, that work on the "43rd Street Restoration project" was beginning and the crew said "some of the trees and shrubs were going to have to go, but that mine were fine". They then erected a nice little temporary fence around my trees, which seemed to say "leave this property as it is!". That day and the next I noticed several palms trees, a couple of cottonwoods, numerous oleanders, and others along 43rd St. cut down.

At one residence the crew had decided not to cut the oleanders for some reason, but had uprooted the decades old plants. leaving 3 yawning holes, each 5 feet across, with a tangle of roots sticking in all directions.

 Let me tell you about this property owners experience. 

She is elderly, maintains the property herself, including all of the yard work, and is one of the only black property owners on 43rd St.

She had no warning that the city's street renovation plan included making use of her property.

When she returned home the day after the crew had pulled her oleanders out by the root, she had no idea who had done it. When she finally determined that it was somehow related to city work, she called and asked for a city employee to come and address her concerns.

Which were, first and foremost, Who gave the city permission to destroy her property without notice and consent? Then, what was going to be done about the gaping holes in her lawn? She was concerned about herself trying to work around such a hazard, as well as any bystander that happened along and was injured on her property.

The city employee that came to address her problems, told her that the city owned the property almost up to her house and could do whatever they want. He was very emphatic that there was nothing that she could say or do to change that. He then erected temporary fencing around the gaping holes and tangles of roots the work crews had left.

She did not point out to the city worker the strangeness with which her particular property had been treated. But in her discussion with me, the fact that every other home that had trees or shrubs removed for this project had been done with a chainsaw, very neatly with little to no debris left on the property, and the property of one of the only black property owners on the street was treated differently and left in shambles was not missed by her.

Those gaping holes along with the dangerous roots remained exposed until roughly June 22, when I pointed out to the contractor how that particular resident might feel her race had a factor in them treating her property in a singularly different fashion than any other home on the street.

Their solution?

Remove the temp fence, chop a few of the roots with a machete, and dump wet sand on the holes with a frontloader.

Now, do I think the city or the contractor singled her property out for different and inferior treatment because she was black?

Well? No, but it looks DAMNED weird! 

I have spoken to numerous people about it, driven different people up and down 43rd St. discussing the various residents and their individual issue with the project. When I point out her property and the fact the she is black, everyone of them is incredulous and said something to the effect of "How or why would they do that?"

I don't know, but it doesn't look good. And it doesn't make me feel any better about how the city is handling this project.

Feel free to take a drive up or down 43rd St. to see what I am writing about.

REB

4 years of silence.

Well,
it has been quite a while.
A lot has happened in 4 years, new lives created, old lives came to their inevitable end, young lives tragically lost, bodies bruised, minds changed, hearts broken, goals abandoned, goals exceeded, marriages, and more.
There have been many good times, but it has been hard and I have just not felt up to writing things fit for public consumption.

For those of you that are old friends, be forewarned, much of what I write in the next few months  will be specific to my neighborhood on Galveston Island. And to those of you that are new friends, hold on. I am not sure how regular my posts here will be, but I am pretty pissed off about the events that have unfolded over the last few months and this is a vehicle for redress.

The City of Galveston obligated my property to permanent public access without notifying me specifically of their intention to do so. They have created a sidewalk plan that places 5' wide sidewalks literally inches from resident bedrooms and they have been hostile and almost non-responsive to questions from residents.

City employees have shown complete disregard for or hostile communication with the truly handicapped, disabled, and elderly residents along 43rd st. They have threatened these residents with property seizure through eminent domain if they were uncooperative and suggested that the improvements that the handicapped residents had made to accommodate their disability were not to code and would probably be quite costly for the resident if they were not co-operative.

Other residents were told that portions of their homes were actually on city property and that they had nothing to say about the sidewalks planned because the property was not theirs! WTF! Please excuse my "french", but who pays the taxes for the property? Who is responsible to maintain the property and all the improvements to it? Who will be liable for injuries sustained on it? Whose property will suffer wear, tear, vandalism, and theft as a result of the public being invited onto our property by the city?

Shall I get started about all the dishonesty concerning city Master plans? Officials are promising "connected" residents that their homes or streets will not be required to have a public sidewalk placed on it by virtue of their "nice landscaping" or supposed historic nature of the street.
Residents on 45th st, which runs from Broadway to the seawall and is a main N-S travel route, are being promised that their properties will not be encumbered by a sidewalk, while millions are being spent to provide a sidewalk from Broadway on 43rd St. to what is essentially a dead-end into very busy vehicle traffic on U Ave. and  a walk of nearly a quarter-mile on that unprotected street before arriving to the seawall.

I could go on and on blowing steam on all the ways the City of Galveston has screwed it's residents with a project we all should be happy over., but I am probably just going cap it right now. I will, however, be directing all that steam into more posts.

REB