Support Team

Support Team 

By John R. Greenwood

Ann Marie, Betty, Shirley, Helen (My Mother), Pauline

Growing up in the rural community of Greenfield Center, NY. provided a wealth of supporting influences in my life. I happened across this photo recently and I began to think of the effect the people in my community played on my life. I do not know the gentlemen behind these Greenfield Fire Department’s Ladies Auxiliary members but I do know each one of the women. I grew up with their children, played in their backyards, visited their homes, and drew life-long lessons from them. Some like my mother have passed. All remain large factors in their children’s lives regardless. Wherever they are I thank them all for the part they played in my youth and in my life in general. I’ve had many wonderful people in my life and I think we draw a little bit of something from each one of them. 

Times have changed in many ways. The sense of community is not what it used to be. People are trying to revive it, but with our mobile society they have an uphill battle ahead. I am glad I was able to grow up at a time when firehalls were brimming with wedding receptions, fundraisers, and New Year’s dances. My wedding reception was in the firehall where this photo was taken. I can remember it as though it were yesterday. (Read about that here: Close Your Eyes). 

I felt an obligation to acknowledge these women for their role in my life. Things were less scary then. There was always a mother peeking out the window just to make sure the gang of kids weren’t stomping through her flower garden or spraying the cat with the garden hose. Mothers didn’t have to obsess about stranger-dangers. They were more worried about being sure you waited thirty minutes before you went back into the neighbors pool. It was a good time to be a kid. 

As I look back I see a variety of things that played a positive role in my life. I had committed Boy Scout leaders, watchful neighbors, caring relatives, and a wealth of friendships and experiences growing up in a small town. I think of it as my own Mayberry with dozens of Aunt Bee’s, Goober’s and Andy Taylors. How fortunate I was. How grateful I am. 

Door

Door 
By John R. Greenwood


I spent most of my Saturday installing a new door on the side of my house. No, it's not the most interesting subject for a blog post but it does have some significance. In life we are always closing a door on one part of our lives and opening the door of another. One thing I have noticed and written about is how important it is to keep a positive attitude regarding those ins and outs. I keep wanting to expand my writing but I am constantly having to balance my want-life with my work-life. Just because you love to write doesn't mean you can write. To hone the skill you need to practice and practice equals time. Time for me, and for you, is a precious commodity.

The next best thing to practice is to keep motivated by exposing myself to anything related to writing. That is why I purchased a ticket to hear Pulitzer Prize winning author Richard Russo at Skidmore College's Filene Recital Hall. $20 bought you a seat and Richard's newest book 'Elsewhere'. It's a memoir of his life which began in his hometown of Gloversville, NY. The book centers on the intricate relationship he had with his mother and the hometown he tried so hard to escape. I can't write a review of a book I've yet to read but I can tell you by the time the evening at Filene had ended, I was real anxious to read it. Richard set the tone of the book by emphasizing his genuine love of 'home and place'. It came through loud and clear as he talked of the various influences his hometown played in his writing career. 

Richard Russo 

I have also found that with everything I am drawn to, there is some connection to my youth. Much of it has to do with the various characters that drifted through. Some of it has to do with the values those characters instilled in me. I unlike Richard have stayed close to my roots. Not so much because of want as much as need. Richard's education pulled him and his family to Arizona, Maine and many places in between.  I on the other hand stayed where I could make a living without the benefit of higher learning. In many ways I think that gave me a much stronger education in life's basics; survival and appreciation of the simpler joys in life. 

One thing that Richard spoke about really stuck with me. He said in the beginning he thought he would have to completely cut ties with the past to become a 'worldly' writer. He said in the end everything he accomplished went back to where he came from. Sometimes you close a door behind you only to return. Life is funny that way. 

The evening was sponsored by the Skidmore College English Department in collaboration with the Northshire Book Store of Saratoga Springs. Saratoga Springs Public Library Director Issac Pulver was the evenings skilled and well read moderator. It was a packed house and at the close of the presentation they showed their appreciation with resounding applause. 

I always look at these little hunks of life as doors or opportunities, never knowing what's in store or at stake. I often think of what I would have missed in the last half dozen years had I sat at the kitchen table and wondered, "What if?"

Oh yeah, "The Door"

Life continues to amaze and entertain me. Doors continue to show up in my path. I always open them with fervor and optimism. I never completely close the one behind me. I chose instead to leave them slightly cracked and secured with a loose doorstop that can be easily be kicked to the side leaving me to decide whether or not I want to go back or forward. 

Lobster Pot

Lobster Pot 

By John R. Greenwood

Cape Cod tradition teases the senses 

a butter dipped morsel

grasps with reddened claw

each sneaker clad diner 

as they stand patiently waiting

for that deep sea treasure 

so succulent and eager to please

This was one of those memorable vacation treats you weren't expecting but turned into one of the highlights. We were staying in Hyannis on our Cape Cod getaway. We'd gotten up early to head out the National Seashore at the tip of the Cape. We didn't have much of a breakfast so by the time we arrived in Provincetown it was noon, and we were hungry. After debating over whether we wanted to get a quick hotdog or sandwich we ended up in front of a place called appropriately enough the Lobster Pot. It was colorful on the outside but when you looked inside you really couldn't see much. 

Something strange pulled me to the door. 

I left my wife standing on the sidewalk and I went inside the door. At that point there was no line. I asked the nice lady at the register if I could take a quick peek back at the dining room. The building was narrow and it appeared to go for miles back toward the beach. It looked pleasant and inviting. It was buzzing but not crammed. I quickly went back outside and grabbed my wife's hand. I said, "Trust me. There's something about this place that says come on in we'd love to have you." 

It's rare that I'm that confident in my decision making. She said, "Sure, let's try it." 

I'm glad she agreed because we ended up having a wonderful meal. The service was as good as the meal. A simple lunch turned into a memorable experience and it made the day a lot more special.

Eyesight For $75

Eyesight For $75

By John R. Greenwood

I’m having my eyesight restored today for $75. That’s a pretty good deal wouldn’t you say? 

Yes, I’m positioned on that section of life’s timeline when cataracts surface and blurred vision can cloud your outlook on the world. When I played back yesterday’s message on my machine letting me know the time of today’s surgery they also informed me that the copay would be $75. When I thought about all the negativity being thrown at our president I felt an obligation to speak out about what having health insurance means to me. 

Today it meant seeing the smile on my wife’s face as she held our three month old grandson. It was savoring the beauty of one finite, high definition moment. Isn’t that brief flash of time alone worth $75? 

That’s my point. 

If I were to add up 2013’s memorable moments that I would have missed without my eyesight it would total well over, let’s say, $Pri,cel,ess.00. 

How can you possibly put a price on vision? I think our society needs to reevaluate our outlook. Don’t we all deserve to be able to see our grandchildren blowing bubbles and cooing as they kick their little feet with the fuzzy red striped socks? Who’s job is it to say I deserve that joy more than the guy who doesn’t have the luxury of health insurance? As an able bodied adult male who’s experienced much more good in my life than bad I am willing to step up to the plate and pay it forward for the family who hasn't had as much good fortune. This isn’t a debate for or against my president’s effort to insure everyone in my America it’s about looking at the greater good. I won’t pretend to understand all the complexities of this new program but I do understand one thing very clearly. I am willing to do it simply because it’s the right thing to do. I will take that chance versus being so selfish and afraid of the consequences, that I would spread fear about how terrible it’s going to be and how it is going to destroy our nation. Living in a world where we say one thing and do another is not living. Abuse of any system is a given. We will have to deal with that as it comes. I for one am looking far beyond myself at a world where everyone will enjoy the opportunity to have their eyesight restored for $75. Heck, I probably would have paid $80 or even $100 to see the Superbowl in New Jersey this year! 

Picket

Picket
By John R. Greenwood

This piece is about people not pickets. When I took this photograph early one Saturday morning it was the light that drew my attention. I knew at some point down the road I would be glad I took the time to capture its simplicity. Because blogging has become such a large part of my life I am always looking for interesting scenes or storylines. Mostly they show up on my doorstep. This one was there waiting to be uncovered. What I see in this picture is not a line of pickets but a group of people. They are you and me lined up and waiting for the next stage, the next step. Some of them bask in full sunlight. Some in the back corners wait for the sun (life) to shift and light their faces. In the course of the last several years I have been a picket in some stage of sunlight enjoying ever changing views on the world as it spins around me. In those years I have been through enormous difficulty and extraordinary happiness. Many times it was in the same week; sometimes in the same day, or even hour. That is what Raining Iguanas is about. It's about the sun in your face. It's about the sun on your back. It's about the people around you that spread that sunshine. It's about their stories and their lives as they intertwine with mine. It's about change. Raining Iguanas is a sense of relationships as they affect you. I hope as people read and join in they spread that affect on to others. I have seen it happening over and over already. There is no greater joy than to have someone relate to something you've written. To hear the words, "Your story reminded me of..." is a wonderful experience that gives joy far beyond the accolades of dollars and cents. It can be the rainiest, gloomiest day and I can stumble upon someone writing about how much they enjoyed spending the day in the woods or on a riverbank. The ability to grab sunshine whenever we need it is why I love the cyber-world. Yes, it has it's tragic and horrific side, but we have choices. We can choose to live on that set of tracks or we can change trains. Pickets and people are similar. We gain strength in numbers. From a distance we all look the the same. When you look close or from an angle we begin to change in appearance. We may be starting to peel and weather a little more than our neighbor. We might have a better view of the forrest from where we stand. We might be the pickets chosen to be photographed and sent flying through space to the far reaches of the world via the internet. Whichever picket you are or whatever stage of life you're at stick together with the picket next to you. Stand tall and look straight ahead. You won't have to wait long, the sun comes back every twenty-four hours. Leave the sunglasses home.