On Life and Love After 50 eNewsletter September 13, 2024
By Tom Blake Columnist
An eight-foot statue of Johnny Cash is being unveiled in the Nation’s Capitol Emancipation Hall on September 24. I thought, how cool, I’d love to be there, but I assumed it would be an exclusive “by invitation only” event. I searched online for details.
I saw a copy of the formal invitation sent to United States Senators and House Members. Even they had to RSVP to reserve a seat and indeed, it was an “invitation-only” event. I telephoned the Sargeant Of Arms spokesperson listed on the invitation and she told me there was no way I could get a seat on my own. She did mention that a limited number of seats had been set aside for Cash family members and suggested I contact them.
I’ve known Rosanne Cash, Johnny’s daughter, for nearly 50 years. On a whim, I sent Danny, Rosanne’s road manager, an email request to ask Rosanne if there might be an empty seat left that I could occupy. For luck, I put on my Johhny Cash t-shirt before venturing out for the day.
Within minutes, Danny responded: “I’m sorry Tom, Rosanne has already used up her allotment.” I thought about guys like Kris Kristofferson and Willie Nelson who are probably on Rosanne’s list so I wasn’t surprised or disappointed. However, being able to dream like that at my age is a little blessing.
My next-door neighbors, Jake and Kresta, have a son who lives in Nashville, Tennessee, and they own a home there. They visit often. A friend of mine who also owns a home in Nashville but lives in Dana Point stopped by my house that day to hopefully meet them. I introduced her to them. They compared notes and found that their homes are in the same suburb only a few blocks apart. They became friends. That was a little blessing. What a small world.
A while later, still wearing my Johnny Cash t-shirt, I stopped at Trader Joe’s. When checking out, there were two young men (age 20 or less) working the cash register together. While placing my items in a paper bag, one of the guys saw my t-shirt and said, “Do you like Johnny Cash?”
I replied, “Yes, I knew him and worked with him for two years. He was a great guy.”
The boy’s face lit up; he said excitedly, “I love Johnny Cash. I love Johnny Cash. The next time you come in can we take some time, and you tell me more about him?”
Here was a young man approximately 64 years younger than me and we both admire Johnny Cash. We had an immediate connection. That was a little blessing.
And speaking of Trader Joe’s, I’ve owned a black and red T.J.’s insulated bag for at least 20 years. I’ve taken it on trips overseas multiple times. It’s virtually a world traveler. It’s so versatile, lightweight, and convenient.
The day after being at Trader Joe’s, I walked to the sidewalk in front of my house. There was a new Trader Joe’s canvas tote bag, exactly like mine, on a bush near the sidewalk. It was empty except for a pink Gelson’s Market receipt that showed a name and a telephone number. I thought to myself, “I bet the owner would like to have that bag back. And if I leave it out here near the sidewalk, anybody walking by could snatch it.”
I brought the bag inside and texted the number on the receipt to explain I had found the bag. A day went by, no response. I decided to leave a voice message. Three hours later, the phone rang. It was Jack, the bag’s owner. I suggested we meet somewhere so I could give him his bag. I told him the name of my street.
He told me his. Same street. Turns out, he lives at number 5, and I live at number 15–50 yards away but around the corner. Both of us have been in the neighborhood for years. We had never met. And, now, we are friends. That was another little blessing.
This week, I stopped at Tutor and Spunky’s, my former deli in Dana Point. A woman I’ve known for 30 years named Eileen Gordon, a personal trainer who works in the same center, was there and we chatted for a few minutes.
I sell my books at the deli. A delightful employee named Apple told me a woman customer named Wendy Adam had bought one of my “Tutor & Spunky’s Deli. A Dana Point Landmark” books that I published in 2021. Wendy had left the book at the deli hoping I would sign below the picture on page 232.
The picture on page 232 is of Vern McGarry, a loyal deli customer, an accomplished skydiver, and the volunteer coach of the 2007 Dana Hills High School track and field high jumpers. Three high jumpers were also in the picture. Vern sadly passed away a few years ago.
And then Apple said with a tear in her eye, that one of the jumpers was Wendy’s son Jeff Adam. And that he had passed away unexpectedly at age 20, which is why Wendy wanted that page signed. Apple had Wendy’s phone number and called her to tell her I was at the deli signing the book.
As fate would have it, Wendy was doing personal training at Eileen’s exercise gym.
As I was about to sign under the picture, Wendy came into the deli. We had never met. I asked her about her son Jeff. She told me how Jeff had passed; it was a day after he performed in a decathlon event. She and I hugged. There were tears all around. Thanks to Apple for being so considerate and caring toward Wendy. What a little blessing that event at the deli was.
Blessings come in all sizes. I experienced them this past week. And I am blessed.
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