If the first part of above appears as random numerical gibberish at first reading, that is expected, let me explain. America, along with other nations, refer to the Gregorian calendar to mark our time and have done so for millennia. How the calendar we use today came to be is a quite involved history, which I just spent about 40 minutes perusing, and while there is much of interest there, I am going to boil it down to this: what was once a religion-based calendar, using the birth of Jesus of Nazareth as starting point, i.e. BC, before Christ, and AD, anno domini, meaning “year of our Lord,” later switched to secular-based using CE and BCE, denoting Common Era and Before Common Era, as not all users of the Gregorian calendar are of the same religious faith.
This gave me the idea that America should have its own calendar starting on July 4 of every year; this being the day we begin another year of existence as a republic. Using this, we have a simple 001, 249ADI; day one of year 249 After Declaration of Independence. The last day, excepting leap years, would be 365, 249ADI. There are no letters denoting the past, no B(efore)DI; we look forward with clear-eyed anticipation, not back with blurred hindsight. And so, in continuing the tradition of making new year resolutions, I want to concentrate for the next year on community; this community, our community. And for me this resolution comes at a time when community was a word, I was losing grasp of, something I was feeling less a part of. And, I know why. It comes down to losing sight of commitment; and for many years committing to something other than my own survival has kept me grounded in community, not just here in the Valley but across the land.
From the time my parents pulled up stakes in Greenfield in 1972, I have for all but five years of my life been on my own, not only here in the Valley but in five total states involving myriad employments. In each of the towns or cities I have lived and worked in, I have found some outside interest in which to get involved and always on a volunteer basis. I have mentioned before that volunteering is the backbone of most altruistic efforts and that my first unpaid position as a volunteer took place when I was 15, so I have been at it for closing in on 60 years. There is a commitment to volunteering that one must keep foremost in one’s mind to be effective. For undefined reasons, I began to withdraw from King City society in small areas that once were important to me, things I enjoyed doing.
After some soul-searching to ascertain what brought about a seemingly growing miasma of self-doubt, it became obvious, I have strayed from that path of commitment beyond just a paycheck for survival. I was beginning to question just how I was perceived by the public, began to question what people thought about some old man riding around town on a bicycle involving himself in one event or club or whatever that were already well supported. And after my appearance changed, when the smile on my face all the sudden had a hole in it, that added to doubts of how effective I could be because what would people think.
Well, the wake-up to that sentiment, what do people think of me, came when I mentioned all this to my daughter and her response was akin to “Dad, it’s vanity worry about what people think of you once you realize how little people actually do think about you.” That truth is something I have known for years but surely lost sight of and ended up in the mental mess I alone created. Well, that popped that little ego balloon damned quick and just in time.
I had volunteered to drive a tractor in the July 4 parade, and at the last minute I backed out because the idea of appearing in front of a large segment of the population I got what could only be called stage fright; and only once in over 60 years of being in front of an audience did I ever succumb to stage fright and that lasted only a few minutes until my fellow cast member snapped me out of it. For the past nine or 10 years, I have announced both parades in town and all the sudden the parade audience had me cowed. That was unacceptable, so I showed up on Friday morning, was assigned a neat little tractor to drive and enjoyed the ride down Broadway very much; even when Moises (who by all accounts did a bang-up job) announced my name, which I usually find embarrassing.
And that did it. I had made a commitment to the Museum years ago, and even though I have faltered in that commitment (I resigned as president of the board there when I felt I was more of an impediment that a benefit), the ride on the tractor reinforced that original commitment so the folks at the Museum are stuck with me for a while longer.
Also, years ago I made a commitment to the Studio (that would be the Monterey County Dance Theatre) and a year or more ago I withdrew from involvement, which was hard to do. I wanted to rectify that and be whatever benefit I can be to Jan and her dancers and that, unless told otherwise, will happen this month when I will attend an event in that wonderful mirrored space where so much work and magic happens.
There are other commitments to get back to, Stage Hands is one. And there will, I hope, be other opportunities for involvement in the community, which has given me so much.
Take care. Peace.
