“The future is coming,” he said. Staring intently at the sunrise.

“What?”

“The future is coming.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You like this rocking chair?”

“What does that have to do with what you just said?”

“It doesn’t. I changed subjects. Try to keep up,” he laughed.

“ You are hard to follow sometimes...Well most of the time.”

“You know there are stories about the South, ones where they’re not ashamed of crazy folks. In fact, I’ve heard it told that some families put their crazies right out on the front porch for everybody to see.”

“I try to come out here and sit at least twice a day. To rock, to drink tea and listen to the birds welcome the sun.”

“Smell the magnolia.”

“It’s kind of hard not to.”

“Answers in the bloom. Almost always is.”

“What?” “Can you finish a thought before moving on to the next one?”

“I did finish a thought, in fact I finished several thoughts.”

“Never mind. Never mind.”

“Muggy out here already.”

“Someone I trust told me I ought to get a minister.”

“Why?”

“In fact, her exact words were, ‘you need to get a minister.”

“In what context did she say this?”

“I thought about that statement for a bit, in fact I’ve thought about that statement for the better part of eighty years.”

“Why did she say that?”

“What kind of minister do you think I need?”

“One that fills me with shame twice, maybe three times a week or one that points out pretty places and streets paved with gold?”

“Or one that tells me I’ve not given enough to his church even though God would have to know I gave the only two dollars I had to a guy at the bus stop who needed it worse than I did.”

“He needed it for a bottled water to get him through the day.”

“It’s a whole lot easier to tell people to help those in need than to actually do it.”

“Your right, You are so right. You’ve demonstrated that in my lifetime and I tell people all the time what a Great Man you are. I tell ‘em that you aren’t really mean or crazy, that you would give anyone the shirt of your back...”

“Why you tell ‘em that for? The last thing I need is a bunch of no good youngin’ askin’ me for my shirts. I gave most of to that thrift store up the road a piece, the one that sells ‘em to help people.”

“”You have been an amazing power in my life.”

“You know the rise to power doesn’t come to everyone. It doesn’t come for everyone because few are willing to share the simple fact that the answers sought by the masses won’t come from clergymen or philosophers or politicians. All the answers sought lie within, if one has the strength to look.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you ever listen to anyone other than yourself?”

“You’ve changed so much since I was born.”

“Change a dollar for four quarters or two fifty cent pieces or ten dimes or twenty nickels or a hundred pennies. Change solely depends on what you need or what one has to change it with at the time.”

“I love you old man.:

“Of course you do, I haven’t written my will yet.”

“No, seriously, I really do. Going back to what I told folks about you. How do you want people to remember you?”

“People will remember what they want to no matter what you tell ‘em.”

“What do you want people to remember about your journey in life?”

“People have been asking me about my journey for as long as I can remember, I guess people will be asking about my journey long after I’m gone. Journeys, whether individual or collective possess a power greater than the sum of its parts. One cannot judge an excerpt of the journey because it loses context when subtracted from wholeness.”

“What?”

“It cannot be squared or cubed. It must be sphered to best understand.”

“I have No idea what you are talking about.”

“If people ask about my journey, tell ‘em this: Tell ‘em I’ve not always behaved honorably or courageously. Tell ‘em my behaviors evolved out of fear of failure, humiliation and ignorance, but tell ‘em that it is out of that ignorance that I grew stronger in mind and weaker in anger; stronger in kind and weaker in hurt. Tell ‘em I have risen triumphant in love, laughter and hope.”

“You really are crazy old man.”

“But I think I know what you mean.”

“Since we are being open, why do you go by Crash?”

“Always have, it goes way back to before I can remember, but I’ve heard stories. Ones where I collided with brick walls and cars and baseball players. ‘reckon I didn’t know how to stop most of my life. This model didn’t come with brakes. “

“No one makes your model anymore.”

“I guess you’re right. I never did get those brakes. Always kind of figured life would stop me when it was ready for me to stop. I ‘reckon that stop will be the start of something else. Your grandma used to say, ‘that wall may stop him now, but it won’t for long.’