Inspiration borrowed from Billy Currington’s country song, People are Crazy

I found myself floundering a little bit because it’s been about five weeks since I heard from Ollie — well actually, 39 days to be exact.  At his age, I knew that he could kick the bucket any day, because, sometimes, old bodies just fail, but still, he promised me that he would help me write his book.  Is it too late?  He had invaded my soul, not just with curiosity about his life, but perhaps more importantly, his unique perception of the world, molded by his confidence achieved through experience. Or was my interest more selfish, you know, like writing the best -seller that he predicted would happen.  I remember each encounter with this old man, starting at the beach, to the bar where he displayed his selflessness, but interestingly, when he met me at the bar and drove me to church, and recited that verse from Ephesians 6 to the congregation, I felt a sense of his gentle power, filled with humility from his faith.  He told me to fight the good fight and that he would come back at the best time to be most effective for good and the America he used to know.  I found myself hungry for some more of his inspiration and wisdom, because, well, I never met a man like this, and I knew I likely never would again.

Unfortunately, I have learned that he comes back unpredictably, and when I least expect it, and it seems, always when I am unprepared and have given up hope.

So, I go back to the beach bar, at least once a week, hoping I will be blessed with some luck and find him there, messy white hair and sandals with his walking cane by his side, sitting on the bar stool swigging his Guinness, with a full cold one on his left, waiting for me to drink, and always without looking at me, knowing I am walking in.  It’s almost like he has sixth sense, and each time he does that, it gives me prickly goosebumps.  Each Friday, I go and there is no Ollie anymore — just your average patrons living their unique, but often naïve lives, trying to get by in their own ways, with the help of beer.  I look around at them, and interestingly, several of them have now started to wear “Ollie” T-shirts, with the writing he had displayed on his T-shirt on our first beach encounter: been there done that, don’t mess with me.  I’m not sure what I feel about them copying his T-shirt logo, but he does have a fan club.

So, this Friday, I sat at my usual seat at the bar and as usual, he wasn’t there.  Carl, the bartender, gave me a Guiness without me asking, then handed me an envelope and said, “We received this here earlier in the week for you.” Then, he walked over to another customer on the other end of the bar.  I looked at the front of the plain white envelope and in scraggly printing it said, “God is great, beer is good”. No return address, or “from” information.   No postmark either.  I opened the envelope and there was no signature, just “Dear Carson.” That’s when I knew it had to be Ollie communicating with me.  It read:

Carson: I think you are now ready to advance in your journey. I want you to know that I am doing fine and enjoying the later stages of my life, whatever that means. Truth is, I didn’t think I had any chance of living this long, but I am blessed.  I want to meet you, but I don’t think it’s good for me to be at that beach bar right now.  Not only that, I am having too much fun where I am and there’s music wherever you go.  So, a country music artist named Billy Currington recorded a song called People are Crazy.  It’s on the electronic version of that bar’s new fangled electronic jukebox, so I suggest you get off your stool and go over there and play it for everyone to enjoy, but you will need to listen closely to the words and you will then know where to find me.  But trust me, be careful with those dangerous bachelorettes with boots on Broadway and the big Opera is excellent, but it’s best that you visit with the LEGENDS because Tootsies is too pink for you. And yes, Billy Currington is correct:

God is great and beer is good.

See you soon and always use your peripheral vision. You see Carson, they are watching you now, because of me.

Beaucoup dien cai dau

So, I followed the old man’s instructions, walked over to the digital bar player and punched in People are Crazy.

It began:

This old man and me

Were at the bar and we

We’re having us some beers and

Swapping I don’t cares

Talkin politics

Blonde and Redhead Chicks

Old dogs and new tricks and

Habits we ain’t kicked

We talked about God’s grace

And all the hell we raised

Then I heard the old man say

God is great, beer is good and people are Crazy

And the bar patrons stood up and cheered, holding up their beers

© SRCarson publications, 2022