Post Lake Snapping Turtles

Snapping turtles are the angry cousin to painted turtles. Forty years ago I learned the difference between the two. Frogs, snakes, and turtles, along with the ocassional chipmunk, were to be caught, held, carried, boxed, jarred,or coffee canned, and then released when I was nine. How they were released didn't matter. Throwing a frog or turtle from shore to the lake was standard practice. Frogs don't claw at the air, they spread their wingless legs and tumble a bit. Turtles flip when launched overhand by the average garden variety 9 year old, the hand is too small to get a good grip.

The big fish I caught as a skinny little kid turned into an armored alien when he got to the boat. At nine, I had handled a fair number of turtles. For a city kid I did just fine catching turtles and frogs out of sewers. We had smart contraption. A semi-flattened coffee can on a string could be lowered through a grate. A long stick was extended to nudge the frog or turtle toward the can. Once inside, a quick yank and pull got the can up to the grate with a hopping mad frog, or a an upside down turtle. Turtles in the city never had horns or spiked shells. They were colorful and smooth.

This monster I landed was neither colorful or smooth. If the turtle wasn't disturbed by his lunch skiing him across Lily pads, out of the water and into a boat, he was opposed to being launched by a grubby kid.

For a nine year old sitting in a boat,(Don't stand in the boat!") wearing an orange life jacket, to toss a pound and a half turtle there is no graceful motion... especially when the thrower is only marginally more heavy than the throwee. I pulled my arm back so my turtle filled hand was even with my right ear. He spoke violence and stretched his neck for my ear. I know he did because I heard two sounds.

"Tommy, don't..."
"Haahhhhhhh"

Now I don't remember if the creature got a nip of my ear. That's surely a memory that could have been suppressed. But, I know when the snapping turtle left my hand, I never touched another. Gosh, I wonder why they're so pissed off. The painted turtle lolly gags around and appears to care less if you pick him up and cart him around in your bike basket for a day. The snapper gets vicious if you try to nudge him off the road with a long stick. God forbid you try to pick him up. He's spin around on you in an instant and take your finger off at a nuckle. He'd apparently rather get crushed by a Firestone than get a nudge.

I was in the boat that day with Bob Teipner. Bob is a friend of my Dad. His family owned the cottage. Bob was twice my age, but I liked him and he didn't mind taking me fishing. I didn't mind fishing ever. In fact, I think I only stopped fishing to go in for lunch, use a bathroom, learn math, english, and spelling, play a game or two, get married, have a couple of boys, and occasionally make a buck or two. Seems to me once you start fishing, you don't stop but for major life events.

Bob is selling his cottage now. In the photos the house looks as perfect as it was in '68. I hope the cottage stays a cottage.

As Bob wrote to me the other day, life goes on.

A Big Idea, Too Little Life

His friends are turning 22, Aaron is 18 forever. They're moving on to be what they will be, do what they will do.

When Aaron was growing up, from his earliest days in school and on, Cathy and I encouraged Aaron to know that his imagination was a blessing. Traditional classrooms, courses of black and white answers of right and wrong were difficult places and subjects for Aaron. His mind sparkled in philosophical discussions. Why, if, and what about, are the language of people like Aaron. Big picture people ask "Why not?" and put out big ideas. The detail people make those ideas happen. Aaron was a big picture person with a big idea. McGyver, a hero of his youth, was a problem solver. The problems he solved saved lives, got him out of trouble, and tight spots. McGyver would be proud of Aaron's big idea.

Five years ago Aaron's world spiraled out of control all summer into the fall. Marijuana became his obsession. The uniformed are perplexed by the idea that "just pot" could be the culprit. This is not the recreational drug of the '60's and '70's. It's a highly addictive, powerful chemical. As a gateway drug, it's a gateway to death all by itself. In 2005 Aaron knew he needed a plan to live with his addiction. Aaron was in a tight spot and he knew it. The troubles in the world related to drugs and abuse of addictive substances were not Aaron's concern. What was he going to do about himself in the world was his concern.

I know what I want to do. I'm going back out to Oregon. I'm going to go to Bend Community College and live with some friends from MBA. We'll get a house, get jobs, go to school, and keep each other sober. Our counselors are nearby. It'll work because no one knows what we go through like we do. The plan seemed reasonable to me. Back then, I didn't know the plan was clinically sound for the recovering addict. Living with peers in recovery, working, seeing counselors, and building on education make up a powerful solution to a deadly problem.

Aaron didn't live to live his idea but other people are living his vision. The Aaron House in Madison, thanks to Aaron and many smart people, is home to young men who like Aaron know living is better than dieing and peer support is better than going it alone. My son wasn't blessed with long life. A high grade point average and college were beyond his reach. By being as Ghandi said, "...the change you want to see in the world", Aaron showed his wisdom. There is enough knowledge in the world to combine with big ideas to solve problems.

Aaron was a fun guy who wanted to know "why not, and why can't". He was good for the earth. Aaron's idea is good for anywhere. Aaron House doesn't solve the problem. It is part of the solution and that's enough.

Frozen in Time, Found Pictures

Aaron at MBA, 2004. Seventeen years old. Aaron would be 21 now. His friends are graduating college, starting careers, getting married. Becoming parents. They look older. I wonder what adventure Aaron is on today.

Dysfunction of Bucket Lists

I didn't see the movie Bucket List but I've heard the question. "What do you want to do before you die?" The answers are simple, regardless of the size of the desire or person. Aaron was asked the question as a youngster. His answers are on a piece of paper in his closet. Looks like the assingment required 15 to-do's. Aaron gave nine answers,... and five were marked as accomplished.

The paper looks like this:

Things I wanna do before I die

1. Get a bug (slug bug) (beetle)
2. Get a techniclick pencil from SHOPKO
3. Get to Guniess (Book of world records)
4. Get a new colored computer mac (see thru kind)
5. Get to be a pro football player
6. Face my fears
7. Travel out of the U.S.A
8. Get a DVD
9. Get a dog or cat when moving out
Numbers 10 through 15 are blank. He either had nothing else he wanted to do or tired of the exercise. Probably both.

Numbers 2, 3, 4, 6, and 8 are checked off as accomplished. I don't recall him obtaining a mac computer or getting to Guiness book of world records, but I'm glad he feels he faced his fears.

The question of what to do before we die is the product of a belief that life is filled by what we do. That belief is wrong. Aaron and Patrick taught me to look at life different. Doesn't it make sense that our children teach us to live healthier than what they observe? Of course. They don't care what we do or where we go, they want us to be. My sons taught me the question isn't: What do I want to do?, but rather: What do I want to be before I die? Regardless of what I do, what do I want to be? To me that means, what do I want to be as a Dad, as a husband, as a friend, a member of communities, etc...

For years I was busy doing and trying to do, what I wanted before I died. In that puruit I neglected being what I could be. When Aaron said, "I don't want to be like you." He wasn't being disrespectful---but that's what I thought. Before it was too late I got it. It's simply this: Happiness is a choice. Happiness can not be found, because it has never been lost. We always have happiness, yet at times we choose to be unhappy. The dysfunction then grows when not knowing we already possess happiness we go out looking for happiness. Our doing things, or attaining objects is how we try to acquire what we have not lost. Doing and attaining takes us away from being. Being what I am is enough.

I can not find what is not lost. I can not attain what is unattainable. I can not buy what is not for sale. I can bring joy to what I do by being who I am.