Tag Archives: Johnny Appleseed

Attempt

Attempt: (v) to make an effort to achieve or complete something, typically a difficult task or action.dictionary with letter A

In a recent article by a young blogger, I read his assessment of what he considered to be the summary of life.

He stated that on each of our tombstones should be carved one of two words: success or failure.

He contended that the determination of that inscription was totally our decision.

The wonderful thing about being young is that you have many years to correct your dumb assertions.

There are many things that can be our final epitaph–not just the issue of success or failure. And honestly, much of the success or failure we experience is based upon what the market will endure.

Are people ready to hear? Are people prepared to change? Because the failure of one crusader in his time becomes the common knowledge of the next generation.

So here’s what could be written on my tombstone–preferably in crayon.

Attempted.

  • I attempted to play football, and was quite good until laziness took over.
  • I attempted to be a good father considering the fact that I was more suited to a Bohemian lifestyle.
  • I attempted to take my talent and use it to benefit human beings.
  • I attempted to be a good lover, though sometimes I felt I lacked the necessary equipment and opportunities.
  • I attempted to be solvent, bouncing between abasing and abounding.
  • I attempted to evolve my thinking in a day and age when getting older is equated with stubbornness.
  • I attempted to lose weight and so far have only succeeded in preventing myself from ballooning to circus proportions.
  • I attempted to travel the country from town-to-town with a Johnny Appleseed approach for my message.
  • I attempted to be a generous human being, reaching into my often-meager pot to distribute my goods
  • I attempted to stop lying because it was my reasonable service.

I attempted.

Success is over-rated because it is often determined by others who desert the ship when there’s a “new skipper in town.” And of course, failure can often be just a lack of ears to hear.

I am an attempter.

I am proud of it.

It fulfills me.

I need no other praise than the confidence that sweeps my soul when I have completed that which I have been challenged–by myself–to do.

 

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Antique

dictionary with letter A

Antique: (n) an object such as a piece of furniture or work of art which has a high value due to its considerable age.

For a brief season in my life I had more money than I needed and therefore convinced myself that I needed more money.

It’s amazing how greed does not go away when you find yourself in the black after bills are paid, but rather, settles as a black cloud over your soul, convincing you that if you don’t lay up more treasure, you will be swallowed by some catastrophe in the future, yet unseen.

So even though most of my journey has been spent clapping my hands in glee when the electric bill has been paid and cleared the bank, during this particular odyssey of finance, I became obsessed with a new word.

Investment.

Yes. Everything needed to be an investment.

So I was told my counselors (who were many since they discovered they could siphon off my wealth via giving advice) that houses were a good purchase.

I was told that if I bought a beautiful white grand piano, it would only appreciate over the years.

And of course, it was necessary, since I was now a person of worldly ilk, to go antiquing.

I was supposed to go to little storefronts which were jammed to the gills with fishy deals, and listen to someone explain how “this table was once in the den of Johnny Appleseed,” and had “already trebled in value and would certainly continue to do so.”

Having an untrained eye, to me it looked like a beat-up piece of wood which should have been broken up to fuel a fire years ago.

When I pointed this out to one of the enthusiastic “antiquers,” he stood back in horror and said, “It’s old. So it’s worth more money.”

I explained to him that I was getting older, and no one found me more valuable. He laughed a little (after all, I was still a potential sale).

Here was my discovery:

  • I bought houses and barely broke even on the turnaround.
  • That white grand piano had to be sold for less than half of its original value.
  • And all the antiques I purchased were viewed by garage sale people as worthless clumps of nothing instead of the posterity of Mr. Appleseed.

There is a bliss to poverty.

You don’t have to wonder what you’re going to do with all your money.

Macaroni and cheese still tastes good on Day Three.

And most importantly… you don’t have to deal with antiques.

 

 

 

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