Category Archives: Personal Philosophy

BLOG 4/52

30 Tuesday Dec 2025

Posted by in Education and Teaching, Personal Philosophy, Photography, Tips for a Happy Life, Travel, Uncategorized

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Sharon, A Departed Spouse

I thank you for orchestrating the best 35 years of my life. 

Our love was not a separate part of our lives

You were more than just my best friend.

It was what our lives were all about.

Rest in peace, my sweetheart, 

You were and will always be

 beloved by me 

And the ones that

 You showed what real love was,

The family.

The New Path  

You asked if I ever think of her,

I answered, “of course I do.”

My mind wanders back to my past,

Where memories that are buried seem to last.

But worry not, my dear sweet lady.

For when I think of the present, I think only of you.

My reflections are both happy and sad.

A wonderful life together

That ended too soon.

I held her hand for hours.

Until her last breath, her soul left the room.

How could I not remember her?

She was the core of my life.

For thirty-five years

She was both my lover and my wife.

But she is gone and no longer exists.

She said to me before she left

On this one thing I must insist,

Your life must continue forward

Grief must not stop you

Don’t fall behind; you must resist.

Love is everywhere; if you look, you will find.

Life alone is not meant to be.

Find someone who is not like me.

Your memory will last, but I represent the past,

You’re on a new road now,

New faces, new places, new fields to plow.

Now, sweet lady, I am with you

And all she said has come true.

Mine is a new life, we’ll call it Act III.

And we will explore it together,

Just you and me.

——————————————————————————————————-

What Does It Mean When You Say You Love Someone?


I have written about love in some of my other books; what I said in them
was what I believed to be true, and I still do. Love’s definition, like
everything else in my life, has matured with age. I have called it a concept,
and it is how we use it in English. What, then, is the definition of it? Now, at
age 91 years, I have more to say about what the word love means to me.
All my life, I have taken the word and broken it up into parts.
An example would be telling my wife, ‘I love you,’ then asking, ‘What are we
having for lunch? I love lunch; it’s my favorite meal.’ Does the word love
change its meaning? It must; you don’t love your wife the same way you
love your lunch. I would fight to protect my wife from someone who was
going to hurt her; I don’t care if I miss lunch. Why do we use the same
word? When we talk about lunch, we can use many different words, such
as appreciate, enjoy, or wish for, among others; however, when it comes to
our wives, the word ‘love’ is the only one that seems to fit. Why?
What does it mean that most other words wouldn’t convey? I have thought
about this a lot. What does it truly mean to love?
Love is like a puppy, cuddly and fun, and just like a puppy, it will grow much
stronger if it is well cared for; and you can have it at any age. It is up to you.
A baby loves its parents because it depends on them for care. That is the
only thing it understands about them. Young people love each other
because of the passion and innocence of youth in real life. There are many
personal qualities hidden within the word love, and it is used to mask them
so they can enter our lives.
A few of these include control over someone, dependency on someone,
sex and lust, and finally, security. Because there are so many reasons that
make us think we are in love, it is easy for us to make mistakes and realize
this later.
We say, “I don’t love you anymore. If that happens to you, it is
because you only love a person because they seemed to fit into your world
at the time.
True love can’t be broken up into parts. Love can be explained in one word:
it does not take more than that. What is the word? If you have ever had a dog that you loved, and he or she loved you too, you have experienced true
love. The dog doesn’t care what you do. It still loves you.
The only word I can think of that describes what true love is made of is
acceptance. You must fully accept what you say you love and not try to
change it. If you try to change it, then you don’t truly love it. You only love
certain parts of it. It’s challenging to love only parts of something and not
the whole. This also applies to people. It’s easy to find someone you love in
parts, but hard to find someone you love completely. That’s why people
often say, “I don’t love you anymore.” In a long relationship, you might find
parts you no longer love.
Love is a fantastic quality in life, but it must be an act of total acceptance to
be long-lasting. (See the poem “Home”.) Be a flower, it gives beauty and
asks nothing in return. It accepts you accepting it for what it is, nothing more.

Who Should Get the Ultimate Award?

14 Tuesday Jun 2016

Posted by in Personal Philosophy, Tips for a Happy Life, Uncategorized

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Sisters Diane and Lorrie

Sisters Diane and Lorrie

Bikeing

Bikeing

Runing

Runing

Mother and Son, AKA--Ryan and Diane

Mother and Son, AKA–Ryan and Diane

Today, (Sunday, 13 June, 2016), I went to a sporting event for the regular folks, not the professional athlete. It was a small, and smaller triathlon, held in Redondo Beach California, on the beach, by the pier. I was there to watch two of my daughters and one of my grandsons participate, along with somewhere around three hundred others.

The events were held in such a way that families could do them. My family was one of many that was taking advantage of the event to have a fun day together. There were fathers and sons, sisters, mothers and daughter, and friends all swimming, biking and running. All of them worked out for months to be able to complete their event.

There were two events and you signed up for the one best for you. The longer of the two had you swim one half mile in the ocean, bike six miles and run two miles. The Minnie was half of that, swim a quarter mile, bike three miles and run one mile.

My grandson, Ryan, did the longer one with ease. He is young, which makes him immortal like all young people. My two daughters, Lorrie and Diane, are in their fifties and had to work hard for months to get ready to do the shorter one. The ocean swim alone, out through the surf – swim a quarter of a mile – and back in through the surf would stop 95% of most people. (All my daughters are special. My third one, Shelly, waited until she raised three kids to adults to go to college).

I, on the other hand, sat in my walker and watched as they all sweated by me. I did however, manage to find enough energy to take a few pictures, and after about two hours the event was over and the awards were given out.

There were a number of categories that awards were given to. There was a first, second and third in each one, and many people got one, but the one award they didn’t give, which in my estimation, should have been the Ultimate award, was last place.

The person that struggled across the finish line last, had more pain, suffering, and gut commitment, than anyone else in the event. We never seem to hold them up as special. We should honor them, for they are in reality the most special of all. My apologies to all the winners. (Just a note …. No one in my family would have won that award today.)

The fish Part #2

13 Friday May 2016

Posted by in Education and Teaching, Personal Philosophy, Uncategorized

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What have we learned so far?

A child’s mind wants to know the answers to every question they encounter. If you give them an answer the question is closed.  Once it is closed it is hard to reopen because they already know the answer.  Dr. Hubbs didn’t answer my question, he lead me on a path of discovery and showed me how to answer it.

The path of discovery has no end; I’m still on it.  If he would have just said, “That is a ratfish.” I would have probably become a mechanic like my father instead of a biology teacher, because the issue would have been closed.

Now the rest of the story.

Twenty years later I was visiting Scripts Institute of Oceanography as a graduate biology student from Cal State University at Long Beach.  In my wanderings I discovered a room full of fish specimens.  The main interest and emphasis in my education was ichthyology, (fish) and I was looking at the specimens in the bottles when I came on one that caught my eye.

It was a ratfish in a bottle.  There were several there but this one was different because the label on it was incomplete.

The date was there, twenty-years earlier.  The location was there, Cardiff in the surf,  but under collected by, it just said Johnny.

I was standing there with the bottle in my hand when a man walked in and smiled at me as he walked to a desk in the corner of the room.  I recognized him from his picture in some of the articles I had read.  It was Dr. Hubbs.

I walked over to him with the bottle in my hand and said, “I have a question.”

“I hope I have an answer.”  He smiled back.

“I was looking at this specimen and I noticed the information on the label is not complete.  I was wondering why?”  I handed him the jar.

He looked at it and said, “Oh, you mean the name of the collector?  Well, that’s the only name I got.  It was a young boy that brought it in and I didn’t get his full name.”

I said, “It isn’t an unusual specimen, how come you kept it?”

“I kept it to remind me what biology is all about.  The wonder the young man had and the sheer delight that showed in his eyes when he discovered what the fish was is what I think of whenever I get discouraged.  That curiosity and joy of discovery is what science is all about.

Sometimes we get too close to the project to remember why we are doing it in the first place.  When I need reminding I come down here and look at that fish, and I remember why I like what I do.”

I said, “Well, I think you should complete the label, the last name is Reseck, Johnny Reseck Jr.” and I held out my hand to him.  He took my hand in both of his and didn’t say a word.

Tears came to his eyes and he came around the desk and gave me a hug.  He said, “Thank you for coming back and completing the label for me.  I have wondered so often whatever happened to that young man.”

We had a long talk. We talked about fish, and school, and research, but mostly we talked about why it is so important to wonder.  I never saw Dr. Hubbs again.

What did I learn?

I learned even important men who are leaders in their field get discouraged from time to time, and it is okay to have a crutch to help you through those hard times, even if it’s just an old fish in a bottle.  I once told a friend who was going through a hard time that he needed a fish in a bottle and he thought I  was crazy.

I also learned the importance of wondering.  I define wondering as the combination of curiosity and excitement.  Every child is good at it.  Most adults have lost it to become politically correct and fit into their slot.

Don’t lose it, because it makes life an adventure instead of just a voyage.

NOTE:  Dr. Carl Hubbs was one of the world’s leading ichthyologists.

 

Pop and the Bucket

15 Friday Apr 2016

Posted by in Personal Philosophy, Tips for a Happy Life

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This story starts with my dad, (Pop), asking me to come to Cardiff in San Diego County where he and my mother lived in a mobile home park, (long since torn down and made into a state park). It was located on the water at the foot of the cliffs leading to Solana Beach.
There was a rock reef, exposed at low tide out in front of their mobile home, and we often fished from it. My dad would go out when the tide was real low and collect mussel, (a type of bivalve/clam), off the rocks, open them up, take out the meat, salt it down, freeze it, and it became the bait we used to fish in the surf and off the reef. We caught a lot of fish over the years and it was nearly the only thing I ever did with my dad as an adult. He was 70 when this story took place.
It took me about an hour to drive down to their place from Santa Ana where I lived and taught at Santa Ana College. He was waiting for me when I got there at 6 a.m. so we could catch the low tide, walk clear to the end of the reef, and cast way out to where some big calico bass and sheep head lived. Later in the morning, as the tide came in, we would move off the rocks to the beach and fish for Corbina and perch in the surf. The rocks became very dangerous when the waves started breaking over them as the tide came up.
I was watchful of Pop, at 70, he wasn’t as steady on his feet as he used to be, but he knew this reef well, every crack and hole in the rocks. He was born in 1899 and raised just a few miles back from this beach on a farm. His brothers and sisters would hike to the beach and fish off this very same reef when he was only seven. It had been his friend for sixty-three years, and still was.
We caught a few nice bass and the waves were getting where they were washing over the reef, I shouted over their noise, (my dad called it the “Sea Serenade”), and said, “Pop, let’s move over to the surf and try for some surf perch.” Pop liked to eat the perch and so did I. I walked over to him and picked up the bucket with our bait in it. Pop had his hands full with a 12-foot fishing rod in one hand and rod holder in the other. He made his own rod holder. It was ½ inch rebar three feet long and sharpened on one end with a two foot piece of two inch steel pipe welded to the other end, to put the butt of his surf rod in. It weighed at least seven pounds and he was using it as a walking stick to get across the uneven rocks, which were now under water as each wave passed over them.
Back to ‘The Bucket.’ When I picked up the bucket I was caught off-guard; it must have weighed about 25 pounds. It was like lifting one of my diving lead weight belts.
After we walked a hundred yards down the beach, and set up our gear, I asked, “Pop, why is the bucket so heavy?” The bait in it couldn’t have been more than a few pounds, and his spare reel he always took along was only a pound or two. He always carried some extra sinkers he molded out of lead from old tire balancing weights, but not 20 pounds worth. He was on his way to wade out into the surf and make a cast.
He glanced back, looked at the bucket, and said, “Those old metal buckets (he got it before the days of plastic), don’t last as well as they should. That one rusted out in the bottom. (No kidding, he had been fishing with it at the beach in salt water for 15 years). I fixed it so it will last at least as long as I can still carry it.” He laughed, walked out waist deep in the water, and cast out. He backed up so the water was only knee deep, which is what we always did when fishing the surf. I did the same thing and came back and stood next to him.
I just had to ask the question. “Pop, how did you fix it?’ I couldn’t imagine what he had done.
The answer was simple and matter of fact. “I poured three inches of concrete in it.” Just then he hooked a two-pound Corbina and we never talked about the bucket again. He was still using it when he fished with me for the last time at age 85. The only difference was I had to climb out on the rocks and get the bait.
Whenever I get the urge to buy something new, I remember the bucket…maybe you should too.