When my daily e-mail from The Art of Manliness (a great site, by the way, and worth your attention) arrived in my inbox this morning, I glanced at the subject — “A Man’s Guide to the Oxford Shirt” — and I smiled.
I recalled a time when button-down Oxford-cloth shirts were pretty much all I wore, casually and professionally. That choice bucked my executive colleagues’ preferences for pinpoints, broadcloths and finer fabrics. (I also wore comfy Rockport shoes, but that’s another story.) I had a few Oxford shirts custom-made for me (because I could at the time), though most I bought from Lands’ End, which offered excellent quality, reasonable prices and, most important of all, proper sizes.
I smiled this morning because that was decades ago, now a lifetime (or two) behind me. If I still own any Oxford shirts, they’re packed away in storage.
Those of us granted the gift of aging can’t help but notice that our lives are made up of chapters, or acts. The more we cast about in search of places, partners and purpose, the more acts we live.
My own Executive Act spanned 25 years, give or take. It ended long ago.
I deleted that AoM e-mail this morning without reading it.
This current act, an American Life on The Mountain with Deb, weaves its own story, a new story that draws on much of what came before. It feels like my final chapter — and I mean that not in a fatalistic sense, but recognizing that this act is a culmination.
Something in particular that strikes me is how my appetite for information has changed. Rarely anymore do I delve into things theoretical or conceptual. I concern myself with the concrete. I spend my hours almost exclusively on practical matters.
If a thing doesn’t serve me here and now, it has no place in my Life.
My current Facebook groups and pages paint a picture of that shift. A quick skim of my news feed reveals posts from “Firewood Identification, Chainsaws & All Things Wood Heat,” “Chainsaw Sharpening ONLY,” “Coleman Lantern, Stove, Collectors, Parts, Service, Fix, Repair Forum,” “Woodburners & Seasoning Group,” “Predator 3500/5000 Inverter/Generator,” “Arkansas Off-Grid & Homestead Living,” “Water Well Owners Group Q&A”… you get the idea.
I’m wholly invested in rural, rustic and off-grid living. Sprinkle-in some prepping, guns and knives, individual Liberty, shed-to-home and (because of our situation) RV repair, and that’s what I consume.
I eat what I am. I am what I eat. It’s a long damned way from Oxford shirts, that’s for sure.
This morning, once the dogs had been taken care of and Deb was settled comfortably, I busied myself with odds’n’ends around Home — gathering trash inside the cabin, reading through the owner’s manuals for our power nailers to see what type of fasteners they accept, going a round with the burn barrel. Deb got notification that the walking boot for her broken foot was at the post office, so I ran over there to pick it up.
Also waiting was a second package — a “Knee Rover,” one of those spiffy kneel-on scooters. She ordered it ’cause the girl really wants to go to the Turkey Trot this weekend.
Before heading back, I stopped in at Miller Hardware to inquire if they sold pallets. We have another load of firewood comin’, and I needed a few to keep it up of the ground.
The answer was, “We sure do — how many do you want?”
I bought three. Just three bucks apiece.
I dropped the pallets off by the woodpile, then brought the postal packages into the RV and set up Deb’s scooter for her. That produced enough cardboard for Round Two with the burn barrel.
The RV tech never did show up to work on our furnace.
I suppose I’m overdue in saying something about the attacks on Israel. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you which side I take. (Hint: It ain’t the Palestinians and their proxies.) Nor would it make sense for me to re-hash the facts of what happened.
The most important thing is to assess how it directly affects us, and to prepare accordingly.
First of all, you and I can’t change, stop or even in the smallest way affect what’s going on. Pursuing the delusion that US involvement hinges on “the consent of the governed” is a waste of time.
Second, we need to recognize that this further expands the conflict most of us think of simplistically as Russia against Ukraine. It’s engulfing the entire globe — World War III is underway. Don’t kid yourself about that.
Third, with the reactivation of radical Islamist actors worldwide, it’d be foolish to think that attacks won’t be launched on us here in the US. Who’s at greatest risk? Residents of urban areas, for one. High-profile Jews, Christians and cultural icons. Large crowds and holiday celebrations. Basically, anything and anyone that represents (to the world) America is a target for destruction.
(It’s worth noting, I think, and it’s ominous, that this is an agenda shared by Doctor Dementia and his progressive cabal. Democrats and jihadis both seek the unmaking of America, just in different ways. That doesn’t bode well for our prospects.)
As always, the greatest damage will be inflicted not by terrorists, but by our reaction to whatever they do (and by our willful compliance with decrees undermining Liberty).
The smartest among us, the most aware and intellectually honest of Americans, from here on will be conducting themselves as if they’re under a constant hurricane warning. Certain disaster is two days away, every day, and they don’t let their vigilance or their preps lapse. They remove themselves from high-risk places — they get out of the cities, permanently, damn the cost.
Anyway, that’s my take. Be ready.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB