The Message

Mr. B passed me this note today...

Please Don't Discuss

anything about what

Talk about to

anyone Else

Except me.

No one. Please.

Well, this puts quite a damper on things, doesn't it?

More on Fishing...

Some-one could write a book about How to Make Pine Cone Leaves into fishing bait lures by the use of various color of paints and hooks and spoons. It would make a good small book of several chapters that could be added to a new fishing lure book.

Gathering

NEW PRODUCT  -   NEW INVENTION

They could Take the Star of David and MAKE it in several Deminsions and use it to construct an artificial reef. It would be a new invention for the Star of David. They could test it, thru Tex. A&M. Could be constructed by welding then each star Dipped in Sac-Crete or Concrete. The artificial reef MADE about the size of two olypic size swimming pools stacked on top of one another.

*******************

I talked to Mr. B tonight for an hour and a half after work. So far we've gone from 1940 to approximately 1952. Not much happens to a kid if you think about it. Yet I've got about 8 pages of notes to boil down into something cohesive.

New Item

New Item     --     New Invention

The people who make oven heating coils could offer custom made coils in special order stoves that WERE MADE to look like Cattle Brands. Could ADD profits to the retail business. They could even use Native American signs and symbol provided The Tribes approved the ones used. MAKE NO MISTAKE about the Tribal Counsil whom set around drums during Pow-Wow those elderly men are very wise.

Gone Fishin'

The Grand Ole Opry had a lady called Mini Pearl who every one enjoyed. The hat she wore could be made from styrofoam and sealed in plastic and then attach two of them brim to brim and used as a fishing float and sold in Texas to [undecipherable] fishing stores and ADD sales tax and revenue to both states and revenue back into the Grand old opry. The opry would most likely Have to approve such a good fishing float. However if they knew how much money they could generate from that could be very successful.  
Dumass Wildcatter Kid. Half Breed Cherokee

 Minnie Pearl

These are the jokes, folks.

TEX. A&M Joke

Two Aggies Talking.

I understand the Aggies have invented a gizmoe.
Its called a MOE-GRAPH-SIZE-MOECHINE. It really works.
Its two welding rods and dowser. Standing on the BOW of an ice breaker. Looking for underwater telephone cable.

***********

Two Aggies Talking about stones at the bottom of Mt. Rushmore.

1st Aggie: How do you figure how many tons of stone you have there.

2nd Aggie: You get one of those professors to do it in Austin. That way you can find out How much political bull s- you have to move by lobbists in Austin. To try to get some one To build a resort there. Its two large moving jobs, unless of course they find some way to use the stones already there. It could be sold over the enternet to some-one. Hello A&M is there any one home?


************

Aggie Joke:

Two Aggies talking:

1st Aggie; shinning his boots;
"I got my degree Now and I have really sick and tired of shinning boots.

2nd Aggie: Why; It's part of our tradition.

1st Aggie: Its just not part of the business world.

The Beginning

So Mr. B is ready to commit his life to paper. He told me as much yesterday.
I could tell he's been thinking it over for awhile. Finally last night he asked me when I would like to interview him.

"How about next Tuesday?"

He nodded, "What do I have to bring?"

"Your brain."

"That's it?"

"Yup."

"Pencils?"

"Nope, I got that covered."

"Do you need paper?"

"Nah, I think I've got some."

I told him that he could work on some of his artwork while he talked to me. Might be more comfortable for both of us considering I don't really have "a plan" as much as I have "an idea of a plan." I was quick to tell him that I was not a professional writer/interviewer by any stretch of the imagination and that I couldn't promise him a masterpiece. He seemed unfazed by this.

What he does seem interested in is getting "his story" out there. He said that throughout his life many people have stolen ideas from him. He sees this as a way to set things straight.

Push "pause."

I can't help but feel conflicted about this. On one hand, Mr. B is eager to tell his story. On the other...am I becoming just another person who steals from him? He trusts me and I cannot and will not break that. Or am I breaking it already? Whose glory am I seeking? His? Or mine?

He's been in a bit of a rut lately. Not doing much artwork. Not really writing his thoughts. He told me that he's not been very inspired. But ever since he's been turning the idea of this project over in his head, he's seemed keen on getting started. He told me that he'll even bring me some pictures to help tell his story. I can actually see his wheels turning. When I was talking to him last night, his gaze would often go off in the distance and he'd say, "Yeah, I've got stories." He then left me with a teaser that he was the one who invented the stealth bomber. (This motif often appears in his cards.) It's kind of nice to see him excited about something.

And then...I wonder...about cans of worms. You know what they say about cans of worms. What if I find out things that I don't want to know? I told him that he only has to share things that he's comfortable sharing. He informed that he's planning on telling "the whole truth." Will my perception of him change when I'm provided with new information? Has it changed already? Also, am I crossing a professional line? Where do "patrons" end and "friends" begin? What are the roles of public servants who work with the public day in and day out? Should we be automatons and issue terse greetings and just get on with it? Or. Are we forgetting the human side of service? I'm not an automaton (last I checked). I can't be expected to act like one. I forge relationships. I say "hello" to people by name. I know about the movies they've seen, the trips they've taken, the books they've read. I lavish praise on the children who give me hand-colored pictures even though I'm actually "not allowed" to accept gifts. When I fractured my shoulder last fall I can't tell you the amount of patrons who repeatedly inquired of my progress, shared their own stories and offered words of encouragement. This is a library not an insurance company. Our mission is to "improve the lives of the people in our community," right?  

  

Maybe this is good time to say this about Mr. B: He's a 71-year-old-man with no family nearby. He lives alone. He's never mentioned any friends. He takes medication for a variety of ailments. I'm the one who asks him if he's taking his pills. If he's eaten that day. If he's been sleeping. If he's called the eye doctor to get his glasses fixed. It's a bit of a running joke but he knows that if he doesn't show his face at the library for 5 days or more I will knock on his front door. Sometimes he'll just pop in and if he doesn't see me around he'll tell one of my co-workers to tell "Miss J that I was here."

So really...maybe I've already crossed the line? But in this profession, it gets really hard to see the line sometimes. We see children grow up before our eyes. We're with people when their spouses die. We know whose cancer has returned. You can't help it. Humans talk. We talk. We connect. We reach out. We're social beings. I can't apologize for that. 

Maybe I'm helping Mr. B. More likely, he's helping me. You see, for every question I ask him about his food intake, he tells me about something I didn't know. Do you know what a Kettenkrad is? I do now. I know about the King Ranch. And Red Adair. And the mascot at Texas A&M. He's leaving me better than I was before. I hope I'm doing the same. 

Truth is...I haven't been very inspired either. I got sick of writing about myself and I felt like it was time to write about someone else. All that contemplating my navel bullshittery. I can't help but think me and Mr. B are some kind of parallel trajectory. Kind-of a "I'll drag you and you'll drag me" type of thing. Both of us need some sort-of prodding. Me, because I rarely finish any big projects I start. Him, because he gets caught up in his own "non-special-ness." We need help to realize that together we may pull off something huge.  

Still. It's hard to shake all the "what if's." Why was Mr. B in the State Hospital? (Those tales are few and far between and very disjointed.) What happened to Mrs. B? Where are his children and why do they not speak to him? Why did he attempt to win back "power of attorney" from his son-in-law a few years ago? Why does he sometimes think people are trying to burn his house down? How far can we go? How far should we go? Do I pull the plug or let it ride? Do I choose caution or the possibility of something massively great?

It's hard to say. I suppose I'll just take it one step at a time. That's always how it is in the beginning, right?