This blog, however, will not be about my personal life. No, what I'd like the reader to do instead is to study the picture on the left. The fisherman could be any man, standing knee deep in the ocean, waiting hopefully for a striped bass to snatch the lure and be off and running. He could be a summer visitor staying on Cape Cod for a week with his family; a year-long resident making his pilgrimage to the Atlantic Ocean for a day of R&R, or a Cape Codder casting into the waters he had known since he was a kid.
Guess his age? Does it matter? If I told you he had been a firefighter for thirty years, would you be surprised? Most likely not, as he has the strong back of someone whose pulled and lifted weight for a living. See how he's dressed: orange swim trunks with a white and black polo shirt. Nothing fancy, still eye-catching. He stands over six feet. Outgoing, personable, charming, and friendly, my man has strong, educated opinions; he loves my writing--showing his excellent taste--supports my independence.
I'd bet you're curious about his other interests: movies, sports, books, NPR news, music (modern classical, jazz, ballads, etc.), hiking, kayaking and eating out. Politics? Religion? Invasion of privacy, will ignore the former, and as far as the latter: traditional Massachusetts church upbringing.
Devoted grandfather, divorced yet loving father, he has sacrificed as any parent would for his children. Not rich, not poor. In essence, a man of the majority, making ends meet. He'd call himself an average Joe. I'd describe him as extraordinary.
Now, here's the kicker. If you'll bear with me, readers, I'd like to reprint a poem, originally posted on Poetree Creations (2013,) I wrote about my man that embodies his essence:
Ode
to a Friesian
A rare
Chestnut among your peers,
Baroque in
body, an athlete’s frame:
Well-chiseled,
short ears,
Compact and
strong of limb, a stallion's name.
A war horse
with a passive heart;
Classical
lines, pure soul, a breed apart.
Free spirit,
though workhorse when reined in;
Spurred to
full gallop, you fly with the wind.
Your past,
though fraught with labor,
Cannot keep
you from what you savor,
To step
outside your confined walls,
And show your
worth to whomever calls.
For you stand
tall,
Your legs
rise and fall,
Muscled,
toned you walk with grace,
But these don't diminish your strength, your pace.
Power
emboldens your ancestral pride;
You are never
taken for just a ride;
Body groomed
to take action,
Yet a
disciplined mind keeps your traction.
He and I may disagree about what movie to rent or where to have dinner, having differing viewpoints; equal eyes. I hope you're putting the pieces of the puzzle together and seeing, really seeing what I'm stating: that until this moment you probably wouldn't have guessed the two of us epitomize the melting pot that makes our country great.
In a few weeks, people from every strata, race, creed, religion will be assembling to speak as one voice proclaiming the world needs to stop the increasing acceleration of climate change. We will be the voice of America, and in unison with marches in every country in the world. That's right EVERY country (in many cases hundreds of marches have been organized). No one will stop to demand why someone who looks different than what we expect has decided to participate. For a momentous few hours, though different time zones, routes, and numbers, we will all be members of the global community.
If you haven't gotten the full picture of this blog, maybe someday, I'll post a photograph--of the two of us.
Don't forget to show your support, i.e. march, follow, watch, or spread the world about the People's Climate March, regional event in New York City, Sunday, September 21 at 11:30. Please go to: http://peoplesclimate.org/march/
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