Thinking Out Loud, Volume CDLI

One morning, back in my teenage years when I was a hunter, I shot at a duck flying overhead. I missed its body, but I hit one of its wings. The poor duck tried desperately to continue flying, but with only one wing, it was impossible, and it went into a downward spiral, crashing to the ground not far from where I was standing. You see, if any kind of bird only has a right wing, or a left wing, it cannot fly straight and will spiral to its doom, just like the duck I was telling you about. (There's probably a political lesson in that story, but that's not my primary focus for today.) If you look closely at a bird, you will notice there's a wing on each side of its body, and both of them are exactly the same size. That gives it the balance it needs to fly straight and to control its path. If one wing was larger or more powerful than the other, it would only be able to fly in circles and would never arrive at its desired destination. Therefore, when you see any "fowl of the air" flying overhead, you can rest assured its right wing and left wing are working together to keep it on a straight path. (I declare, there IS a political lesson there!) Now to my point: I got it from a reliable source (The Holy Bible) that a man who will not work to provide for his family is "worse than an infidel." Therefore, I work. I do it for the money, and the harder (and smarter) I work, the more money I make. Considering that fact, it stands to reason if I work all the time, I can make a maximum amount of money. However, there's a problem with that theory. The more time I spend working, the less time I have for myself and my family. Maybe it's true that I would make more money, but for what? I'm reminded of something my dad said to me one time, "I work to get paid, but if I didn't need to buy things every now and then, I wouldn't have any use for money." (Those of you who knew my dad will recognize that as a typical Harvey Davidson statement.) No matter what age you or me happen to be right now, it's time to consider what we will see when we reach our last day on earth and look back and evaluate our lives. Will the things that seem so important to us now have the same value on that day? I'm not the originator of this statement, but I love its message: "No one has ever said from his deathbed, 'I wish I had spent more time at the office.'" I'm typing this message from a hotel room in Texas City, Texas, because I'm here on business. May I never fail to give thanks for my job. Although there are days when I get extremely frustrated with my profession, as a general rule I enjoy my work, though it does require more than a hundred nights a year in a hotel. But the times when I'm happiest are when I'm with my wife, my kids and their spouses, and my grandchildren, and if I sacrifice those times just so I can make an extra buck or two, shame on me. I know it seems weird, but Angie and I drink coffee every night before bedtime. We do that because it's what we want to do. Although we may not do a lot of talking, we'll each sit in a recliner and read most every night when I'm home. Those are the times I love, and if I have any regrets from my deathbed, it will be that I didn't have more nights like that. I don't think it will even be that I'll wish we had taken more trips or bought bigger toys; instead it will be that I didn't spend more quality time relaxing with the ones I love. If I spend all my time working for the almighty dollar, I'm like the duck who only has his right wing. If I spend all my time relaxing with my family, I'm like the duck with only a left wing. Either way leads to a "downward spiral" and a crash at the end. When my last day comes and I reflect on my life, I'll have fewer regrets if I can say "I worked to provide for my family, and I also took the time enjoy life with them." That reminds me of something else my dad used to say when I was getting a little off track: "You'd better straighten up and fly right." It takes both wings to do that. Preston