HICKORY DICKORY DOCK
Hickory, dickory, dock,
The mouse ran up the clock.
The clock struck one,
The mouse ran down,
Hickory, dickory, dock.
This has been one of my favorite Nursery Rhymes for as far back as I can remember. Why this one you ask? I think it is because of a story I was once told about the meaning of the rhyme. I have never been able to confirm if the story I was told is true or not but I still choose to believe it is. Kind of like Santa and the Tooth Fairy. Some people will try to tell us they don't exist either but we know better don't we? I have seen the nickles and dimes left in the middle of the night under a pillow and the gifts under the tree on Christmas morning. I have seen the smile on a child's face and have experienced the good will in a man's heart. I know what is real and what isn't. Just like the author of this nursery rhyme. Some say it was written by a fellow named Oliver Goldsmith while others say it was a counting rhyme used by shepherds hundreds of years ago. I choose to believe it was written by Mother Goose, one of my all time favorite authors. I know. Now you are going to tell me Mother Goose was a fictional character Believe what you want but I believe she was real and your not going to convince me differently.
Now about the story. The way it was told to me was that many years ago the first big clocks were made with gears of wood. Now these gears or splines took a long time to make and once they were made, they were in constant motion and under a lot of pressure from the other gears and splines as they turned the hands of the clock. Like any piece of machinery, these gears needed maintenance so they were oiled on a regular basis. Now back in these days, they didn't have the lubricants we have today so the people would use animal fat to oil the gears. Now the animal fat worked very well but the one downfall was that it attracted mice. The mice would climb the clocks and gnaw or chew on the gears. It was like the maintenance men were sitting up a mouse buffet. The mice loved it and they told all their mice friends and they all came often to partake of this wonderful "All you can eat buffet." Does this sound kind of familiar? Maybe the Golden Corral or Ryans. Oh well,,, back to the story. So here we had another downfall. The mice gnawed and chewed and chewed and gnawed until the gears would have to be replaced which cost a lot of money and took a lot of time and hard work. So a very smart man, an engineer I assume but not from Ga. Tech as this was before the year of the Yellow Jacket, was asked to come up with a solution to the "animal fat / gear / mouse" problem. He worked and worked to find a lubricant that wouldn't attract the mice but could come up with nothing. He thought of putting poison in with the animal fat but decided the smell of thousands of dead mice would be to much to take, plus he didn't want to face the pressure from PETA. Yes, There were even tree hugging fanatics back then. Then one day as the engineer was working at his desk, one of the mice he had for his experiments got loose unbeknowst to him. The mouse jumped up on the desk and by chance turned over a small bell the engineer had sitting there that he used to summon his assistant. As the bell rang, it startled the mouse and in a blink of an eye the mouse was gone. The engineer leaned back in his chair and a smile came to his face as he realized he had discovered the first burglar alarm. Have you ever noticed how many things are discovered by accident? The name he came up with for his invention was "Chimes" as it sounded much more Politically Correct than burglar alarm. You know, you have to appease the PETA people even now days just as you did back then.
Well, after installing the "chimes" (burglar alarms) on all the clocks the mice were scared away at every hour on the hour. But, just like happens with most good things, this also came to an end. You see, after a while the sound of the chimes became familiar to the mice and they discovered the chimes wouldn't hurt them Instead of a deterrent, the chimes became a call to eat, a dinner bell if you will. Kind of amazing how we get so use to warnings after a while they don't frighten us any more isn't it.
Well, that's not the end of the story. You see, a few years later there was a young man that had dropped out of school in the third grade Although he wasn't what we would call educated, he was very smart, inquisitive, a hard worker and had a desire make life a better place for the people. So at the young age of nine or ten he went to work for the town blacksmith to learn a trade. He learned his trade well and went on to become a wonderful metal smith and to invent metal gears and splines to run the clocks. The mice found out very soon that steal wasn't near as tasty as wood marinated in animal fat.
Well there are many morals in this story. If you look I'm sure you can find one worth sharing. Some people will tell you it's not a true story but it's My story and I'm sticking to it.
May your day be blessed by God
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Sunday, February 3, 2013
AND NOW THE REST OF THE STORY........
Tuesday will be my 65th birthday. I remember back when 65 was considered to be a "Senior Citizen." Then as medical care became better and some of us decided we should take better care of ourselves, we began to live longer. And then someone decided it would be a good thing since we were living longer, maybe we should get old sooner and we became "Senior Citizens" at the age of 55. In fact AARP wanted my money so bad they declared me to be a senior at age 50. Seems everyone except Social Security wants me to be a senior citizen sooner and sooner. If the government had their way none of us would be eligible to draw any money from Social Secuity until age 85. Have you noticed that it all comes back to money? And when I say all, I mean that first thought that usually come to mind when thinking about or discussing anything.
When I got up this morning I made me a glass of tea, sat down at the computer, clicked to my local newspaper and prepared myself for my daily dose of depression.
After stomaching all I cared to about the world, politics, disasters and the like, I then clicked to Facebook. The first thing I saw was that a couple of old High School friends, Roy Jarrett and Jim Bello, had written on my wall. I haven't seen either of these men in many years but they both played a big part in the process of my life I like to call growing up. They were writing to wish me a Happy Birthday. As is usually the case, my mind, all of a sudden started to swing back and forth between being 65 and the good times of playing football with Roy and baseball with Jim. I went from the depression of the news to the happiness of childhood in a matter of seconds.
I then thought about many of the days in the past, days that back then seemed just to be so routine but now are so special in my memory. Like the daily trips taking Cindy and Vicki to Middle School, that at the time seemed so mundane, but now as I recall them making fun of me because I liked to listen to Paul Harvey and his...."And Now The Rest Of the Story" on the radio and his "Bunn-o-Matic Coffee Maker" commercials, it is moments like these that bring such a warmth to my heart and a gigantic smile to my face.
Or it is moments like yesterday when the whole family is together and time is shared between brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and cousins and in laws and children and parents. It's knowing that everyday is special. It's realizing that everyday is truly a gift from God.
Have you thought about your life lately? I mean really thought about it? Sometimes now in my life I get the feeling I want to....no wait...."want to" isn't what I feel. The right expression is a feeling that I "need to" write something. Do you ever feel a need to put something on paper? A need to express a feeling you have? A need to tell how you love something or someone? And then just as quickly a feeling of fear comes over you. "I can't write" you tell yourself. "It will be boring" that inter self tells you. "People will laugh at me" the voice whispers. And then you convince yourself...... "I really don't have anything to say." I have a secret to tell you. There is nothing to fear and you DO really have something to say. Think of your life as a book and each day is a clean page. That clean page needs something on it. Every day is your special day and every day has a special story for you to tell. Come Tuesday of this week, I will have lived 23,742 days. That's 23,742 stories I have to tell. I'm way behind and better get busy.
Every day, you're writing a new story too. Someone needs to hear it. The blank page is before you. Time may be running out. If you're not a senior citizen, You will be before you know it. I hope to read your first story soon.
God Bless
J. Wesley Daniell
Tuesday will be my 65th birthday. I remember back when 65 was considered to be a "Senior Citizen." Then as medical care became better and some of us decided we should take better care of ourselves, we began to live longer. And then someone decided it would be a good thing since we were living longer, maybe we should get old sooner and we became "Senior Citizens" at the age of 55. In fact AARP wanted my money so bad they declared me to be a senior at age 50. Seems everyone except Social Security wants me to be a senior citizen sooner and sooner. If the government had their way none of us would be eligible to draw any money from Social Secuity until age 85. Have you noticed that it all comes back to money? And when I say all, I mean that first thought that usually come to mind when thinking about or discussing anything.
When I got up this morning I made me a glass of tea, sat down at the computer, clicked to my local newspaper and prepared myself for my daily dose of depression.
After stomaching all I cared to about the world, politics, disasters and the like, I then clicked to Facebook. The first thing I saw was that a couple of old High School friends, Roy Jarrett and Jim Bello, had written on my wall. I haven't seen either of these men in many years but they both played a big part in the process of my life I like to call growing up. They were writing to wish me a Happy Birthday. As is usually the case, my mind, all of a sudden started to swing back and forth between being 65 and the good times of playing football with Roy and baseball with Jim. I went from the depression of the news to the happiness of childhood in a matter of seconds.
I then thought about many of the days in the past, days that back then seemed just to be so routine but now are so special in my memory. Like the daily trips taking Cindy and Vicki to Middle School, that at the time seemed so mundane, but now as I recall them making fun of me because I liked to listen to Paul Harvey and his...."And Now The Rest Of the Story" on the radio and his "Bunn-o-Matic Coffee Maker" commercials, it is moments like these that bring such a warmth to my heart and a gigantic smile to my face.
Or it is moments like yesterday when the whole family is together and time is shared between brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and cousins and in laws and children and parents. It's knowing that everyday is special. It's realizing that everyday is truly a gift from God.
Have you thought about your life lately? I mean really thought about it? Sometimes now in my life I get the feeling I want to....no wait...."want to" isn't what I feel. The right expression is a feeling that I "need to" write something. Do you ever feel a need to put something on paper? A need to express a feeling you have? A need to tell how you love something or someone? And then just as quickly a feeling of fear comes over you. "I can't write" you tell yourself. "It will be boring" that inter self tells you. "People will laugh at me" the voice whispers. And then you convince yourself...... "I really don't have anything to say." I have a secret to tell you. There is nothing to fear and you DO really have something to say. Think of your life as a book and each day is a clean page. That clean page needs something on it. Every day is your special day and every day has a special story for you to tell. Come Tuesday of this week, I will have lived 23,742 days. That's 23,742 stories I have to tell. I'm way behind and better get busy.
Every day, you're writing a new story too. Someone needs to hear it. The blank page is before you. Time may be running out. If you're not a senior citizen, You will be before you know it. I hope to read your first story soon.
God Bless
J. Wesley Daniell
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