Revelations

There are occasions in life that reveal something about you, usually stages of life. I first became aware of this when I was fourteen or fifteen, building houses with dad, and he mentioned to a fellow carpenter "That darn kid can keep up with me nailing". In those days plywood or OSB wasn't used on houses. Everything, including forms for concrete, was built using shiplap boards and had to be nailed with two and a quarter inch common nails. To get any speed up, you had to have a handful of nails in one hand and be manipulating them point downward while your hammer hand was nailing one into the board. Usually it was just a tap to set the nail and one heavy stroke to drive it home. In that time the next nail had to be in position. With two people working together, a rhythm was set up and you usually matched stroke for stroke. Anyway, it was a revelation for me that dad had noticed and remarked about the darn kid.

The next time was before I was sixteen and officially learning to drive. I had unofficially learned already on my own on the '47 Studebaker until it ran out of gas and I had to steal the lawn mower gas to get it home before dad got home from work. The official learning was in the '56 Chevy wagon and dad mentioned that I drove better than mom. That was a revelation even though I knew that driving just came very naturally to me. Unfortunately, I also revealed dad's remark to mom which may have led to words later.  

Revelations began to speed up as my life speeded up. Working for the railroad, boys doing a man's job. Lineman of the year in high school football; a revelation because I wasn't expecting  it although Don, Dennis Dixon's dad, said he knew it all along. A choice of a football scholarship to SFU or a tryout at the BC Lions training camp. The revelation was that I knew that I didn't have it in me to be a professional ball player, nor did I have the kind of desire and focus that was needed.

And so the revelations stacked up over the years - marriage, kids, careers. And the latest revelation. I was recently at a conference in Toronto and found the hotel to be really busy with young adults going to concerts, parties or whatever. These kids dress differently, speak differently, behave differently from when I was young. No big surprise there. But on the occasions when I shared elevators with different groups, I was addressed as "Sir". Now there was a revelation. Did I really look like sir to these kids? This revelation will take some time to digest. Yowzer.