Station Master-book (excerpt-conclusion)

Clancy’s Pub

 

Somewhere in a megalopolis-city, a town. a berg, neighborhood, maybe, even, only in your imagination, at the corner of North Main Street and East Elm resides historic Clancy’s Bar & Grille, a gathering place, an oasis watering hole, where friends meet for fun and conversation.

Originally, Danny-boy O’Donnell had established the tavern as a stage coach stop for the Overland Co. as agent for the fledgling public conveyance line. Over the years and through several generations which witnessed a great Civil War, two conflicts of epic world conflagrations and enough regional skirmishes to satiate any “war-blood savage”, chief among the atrocities, that particular damnation in southeast Asia taking the cream of our contemporaries long before their appointed time only to be reluctantly posthumously lamented by creation of a black marble wall etched in the precious blood of the “victims” of that “politically bastardized” brutality by a faux “leader” deserving of the title of the root word of that adjective. C’est la vie! To that!

Heroes desire no parades or politico-type speeches; real men and women are well above such lies, able to face the reality of life as the dealer calls. Weakness is the cancer; simply---Kill it!

In his time of occupied space in the creation-eons of eternal time, one has come to determine a quiet destiny through Truth! Justice! And, The American Way! To fashion trinity of held belief.

Further, it is learned that values must be challenged, tested, blatantly scrutinized for accuracy; such beliefs necessarily demand hot-forge “tempering”, lest such can never rise to sacred virtue.

Our “worthy” subject’s dogmatic revelations might condense to simple couplets: To wit:

All we truly have to offer is Good toward one another

The very best we can bestow is Love! upon each other

 

Live! Love! Laugh! Focus contemplate!

Vigilant be! Not one future be ever late!

 

Faith! Family! Freedom! Might just be all there really---Is!

In one eternal instant the only mercy-blessing will be…His!

 

And, is it really quite so simple as such impossible consideration? Perhaps? Maybe? Yes!

Myriad debate has incepted, germinated, blossomed, been examined and concluded at Clancy’s through the ages, been and now and come. Verbal resolutions---True! Wisdom!? Hmm!

“A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!” Richard III concluding Shakespeare’s offering.

“A man? A man! Where be found a---man? Modern human’s unanswered plaintive-lament.

Well! Now! Step into ole Clancy’s Pub where the “hip” intelligencia-of-the-night-darkness rendezvous each eve as the purple shadows of dusk give way to the evil demon-night festivities.

Dare! Ye civilized, faux erudite, Royal-elite, celebrity, self-acclaimed, Enter! And, inquire: Where? Might a “Man” be found among thee? Then, hear! Each rebel, rascal, rogue therein too quick answer the barbed challenge; to wit: Here! Brother! Stands a “man”! (Just ask me wife!)

Does that response then quench the queried thirst? Satiate the acute hunger pains? Satisfy?

But, the petitioner has vacated ole Clancy’s refreshment concession; he has better contemplations than to digest vacant verbiage expected; matters of import---perhaps…Truth!

His ever-mindful mantra: What other people think of me is none of my business!

Allow please! Upon me golden gonfalon a red-banner white-letter emblazoned:

Faith! Family! Freedom! Amen!

Author Carl Schuler notation: My grandson, Z. T., was six years old when Monte died.

Z. Tyler’s text is offered here with Mr. Evans’ express permission---and…my gratitude.

 

My “Almost” Uncle

By---Z.T. Evans (age 14 years)

 

My aunt’s boyfriend, Monte, and I were really close. He and my aunt had been dating since I was six months old. I thought they were going to get married, but things turned for the worse.

Monte was a great guy. We really had a lot of fun together. I remember when I was five years old, we used to go up to the park and play roller hockey on the tennis courts. He used to get a lot of people, guys his age, to come up and play with us. On Sunday afternoons we would go to the baseball fields with the whole family and some friends to play softball and baseball. Monte was a very good softball player. He helped my dad and grandpa teach me how to play baseball.

Monte stood six feet four inches tall. I was still really short, but he never ran over me or hit me by accident. He was really a gentle giant. He loved everything in life. I don’t think he hated anything, and if he did, it must have been something very bad.

We used to sit at his house and play video games. He always won because he created his video softball team that creamed everybody else. We also played pool in his basement. I couldn’t shoot the balls because the sticks were too long for me, so I just rolled them into the pockets. When my aunt and Monte went out, I was invited to go with them, but didn’t most of the time.

The day he died we were at my great-grandma’s house. We got up early and played catch with a tennis ball against the side of the garage. After that, Monte hit me some fly balls with the wiffle ball bat from across the street in the neighbor’s driveway. When Monte and my aunt were getting ready to leave, I begged my mom to let me go with them. They were taking a ride to see our horses then going to a party at his friend’s house. Mom wouldn’t let me tag along, so at the time, I was mad at her, but now I am glad she didn’t let me go. Monte got sick at the party, and they went back to his house. If I had gone with them, I would have been at his house, too.

That night, Monte said he felt sick and went in the bathroom. He didn’t come out for a while, so my aunt went in to see if he was alright. She found him passed out on the floor. They called for the ambulance which was about two blocks from their house. It took over half an hour for the ambulance to get there. While they were waiting, his dad did CPR on him. Monte was still alive when they got to the hospital. My aunt couldn’t take the tension of the whole family waiting to hear what had happened, so she decided to take a walk down the hall. Then she heard his little sister scream and knew what had happened.

They didn’t tell me until the next morning. When I woke up that morning, everybody was standing around the bed crying. I asked what happened. They told me that Monte had died. I just fell apart. The doctors couldn’t figure out what happened to him, so they finally ruled it was a heart attack. Monte was 23 years old and very healthy. We never believed it was a heart attack.

The years following, my aunt hardly ever smiled. (She used to always smile.) We were a little worried about her. She went to Cancun, Mexico to meet a friend. Her friend introduced her to Alex. About two months later, they started dating. Alex came to live with us for the summer before he went home to Germany. After my aunt met Alex, her smile came back and she was happy again, and so was I. I believe that Monte sent Alex to see her, because I think Monte knew they were meant for each other. Even though she liked another guy, she never forgot Monte, and neither did I. As much as I liked Monte, everything worked out. Now my aunt and uncle are married and living in the U.S.A. I really like Alex. But, I will never forget my “almost” uncle.

Author’s Final Thought

 

 

In all of the “what” life may come to be for each is but a testament to body, soul and spirit.

Through the evolution of an expanding universe, within and without…? Not bad! At all!

My Uncle, Mr. Charles Farrell, passed away just a few days prior to my completion of this work. As I wrote “Clancy’s Pub”, I found the inspiration for those very thoughts in his character.

Kind, quiet, considerate, polite, always the definition of a refined “Southern Gentleman”.

He was, to my knowledge and determined conclusion: A very Good! man. One of Faith! Of Family! Of Freedom! A fine eulogy for any worthy mortal; one to be envied, respected, loved, cherished, remembered; mostly, hopefully, emulated. Valued Good  is the sacred worthy Virtue!

Someone wrote of this “man” in the funeral announcement that he dearly loved his family and spent a great deal of time in the company of his children and grandchildren. Applaudable Love!

To that sacred sentiment I might be able to add, simply, sincerely, and only: Amen! Good job!

Life is that awesome journey through our time within space. Simple---yet…True!

It is never measured in material treasure; rather, in the mutual memories of Love between us.

Make the most of the adventure, challenge life’s offerings, enjoy our natural world, treasure it, allow life to satiate sacred emotion, learn to savor Faith! Family! Freedom!

Live! With purpose. Love! With intent. Dare childlike happy-lick sweet honey-sugar life-stick! Learn: Life, like the universe, begins where it seems to end, only of extended parameters.

I salute thee, Uncle Charles! I humbly pray that “simple I” might do nearly so well. Amen!

 

Rest in Peace! Mon Amie!

 

Amen!

About the Author

 

 

Carl E. Schuler was born in Nashville, Tennessee, on January 2, 1947. At age nineteen he married his life-love, his soul mate, the beautiful, Lady Candice Leah, his Angel. Two daughters bless their lives: Catherine Elizabeth (Evans) and Rachel Rebecca (Baur). Beth is an attorney; Becky holds a Civil Engineering degree and is CEO of an internet company (padilly.com). Four perfect grandchildren have added infinite love to their family: “Handsome” Z. Tyler, 28; Lauren Victoria, the “Little Professor”, 14; Alexandria Elizabeth, “Lexli-Lu”, 12; and, Anna Marie, our blondie “Annie Rie”, also, 12. Zachariah and Lexi are siblings; Lauren and Anna are sisters. Each is saintly, following in their Nanny’s exemplar demeanor, emulating her elegant class.

Our “girls” are beautiful, talented, angelic, loving, as is our Z. Tyler-man. The young ladies are into horses displaying aptitude for equestrian events: dressage, stadium jumping, cross-country and fox hunting. Z. Tyler excels in sporting endeavors; each is an exemplar person. I am proud of them, blessed to know them, love each more than life. Thank You for them! Lord!

 

A quote from the author: “On a 1990 blizzard day west Kit Carson-way, I offered a hungry pilgrim all my spare change, about ten dollars. He was skeptical at my approach, reluctant to accept my charity. Upon reflection, I should have done better by giving him the new coat I had recently purchased; the old ragged blanket he carried was tattered and torn and terribly thin.”

Honest! Humble! Humor! All worthy intent sought

Offer miles of smiles with pointed-purpose thought

 

All we have to offer is Good! toward one another

The very best we bestow is Love! to each other

 

Live! Love! Laugh! Focus contemplate!

Vigilant be! Not one future be ever late!

 

Faith! Family! Freedom! Might just be all there really…Is!

In one eternal instant the only mercy judgment will be…His!

Amen!

 

Blessed are the meek! Indeed!