You too, could be the next 'American Picker'...

   One of my favorite shows on television is American Pickers. I don't watch it continuously nor am I addicted to it. I don't record it on my DVR, but I do watch it often, especially when I want to get caught up on what's hot in the world of 'picking and collecting' or when I need to do a reality check on prices and how much people may be willing to pay for “stuff.” Maybe not that much in Maine though. But at least the show does give me a general idea of what items may be worth and for me, the show is becoming more entertaining that watching professional sports these days. How many years will we talk about deflated footballs?

   It has been rumored that not too long ago the show spent some time in Maine, not that we would have many folks around that fill up their tool sheds, garages or attics with rusted out cars, old gasoline tanks, early metal signs, old toys and games or antique motorcycles. The list goes on.

   But after spending many Sunday mornings at local auctions, stopping along the roadway at a yard sale or on occasion, just poking around an empty old barn, I may be wrong. There are many who just put “stuff” away somewhere in hopes that in the future it may bring a big score in dollar value and someone will offer them lots of money. And it seems that there is very little that doesn't have some value to someone. Old tobacco tins are always very popular.

   A few years ago, tucked away in the woods in a rural Piscatiquis County town (northern Maine) among the trees were many old cars, trucks and school buses, dating back to the 1940's. During the late 40's and early 50's many cars were shipped north from Boston after the war and sold to the locals as cars and other vehicles were difficult to get in rural areas.     During the war much of the manufactured steel had been used to makes boats, tanks and weapons and cars were hard to get.

   Over the years though, many of the cars that were destined to live out their remaining days rusting away in the woods, were either restored or became props in Hollywood movies as directors learned of their existence tucked away in the Maine woods and directors were quite willing to buy and ship them to California and restore them to some degree their former elegance, although I am not sure a black 1938 Ford would be described as elegant.

   I was fortunate to be given an old sign from an early school bus which still hangs proudly in my home and is something that has more value to me as a school day memory and a gift than any amount of dollars someone might be willing to pay.

   In a recent episode of American Pickers, as Mike and Frank searched the contents of one of six outbuilding on an elderly man's property, the two became somewhat overwhelmed by the number of items that had been collected and saved. Not only was it like going back in history, but as Mike commented, it was “ like experiencing different parts of this man's life.” Not only did it reflect different points in his 'living'  but in many cases what he had saved and collected also showed who he was as a person, what he valued and what he treasured and insight into who he was..

   Deeper into the show it became obvious to the viewer, me that is, how difficult it was for him to give up many of his “treasures,” even if he was paid for the them.

   At the auction the other day, and from one who is a people watcher, my attention was drawn to a couple looking over the items on a table and by the way they were reacting, I could tell that some of the things up for sale this week had possibly come from family members, perhaps a mother or father, or maybe a grandparent who had passed away. As they looked through the box of old photographs, it was obvious they were having second thought about having them sold. Would someone really pay money to relive another family's life and history?

   I will never be an “American picker,” have my own television show or travel to the ends of the ends of the earth to buy a rusty 1931 Ford roadster. Maybe I should. It appears I could make a few bucks by purchasing old rusty bodies, mine not included. But, I admit that I do like to 'poke around' every once and a while an old attic or storage shed, maybe even at the local 'dump'. But with new “No Dump Picking Allowed” signs and all these shows on television now, people just are not throwing things away like the use to. 

                                                 

The year was 1951...I think!

   If my memory serves me correctly, it was September 1951. It was my first day of school, of kindergarten. I don't remember much about that day. In fact, I don't remember anything. It was a long time ago. I am not even sure I remember the name of the school, although I'll take a guess at Roseland Elementary School in Roseland, New Jersey.

   With that day, it was the beginning of 13 years of classes in grades K-12, then college, graduate school and even more graduate school. But over the years the nature and delivery of education has changed tremendously. OK. I'll say it. Today's classroom is not your grandfather's classroom any more.

   What I do remember of the early days was the playground, school lunches, and neatly arranged chairs and desks in five rows with seven chairs in each row, each classroom exactly the same. We all went to the boys room and girls room at the same time, even if we didn't have to go and if someone in class misbehaved, we all stayed inside at recess time.

   And then there was the little red-haired girl who  always sat in front of me in class. We always sat in alphabetical order. But that's a story for another day.

   In the early years if we had a question we raised our hand and, when called upon, we stood up to ask the teacher or were called up to the teacher's desk.

   Back in the day, there were black boards, white chalk and erasers that needed to be cleaned (clapped) almost daily. We always clapped them against the red brick wall of the school building, right near the front door, right next to the window of the principal's office.
   The black boards were washed each day and washing the black board for the teacher was either a reward for good behavior or a punishment for bad. (For the record, I did my share of washing! Your guess as to which reason.)  

   Above the black board, tacked to a strip of bulletin board, were green cards with the letters of the alphabet. In K-3, they were block letters and after grade three, they were the cursive letters of the alphabet for handwriting lessons.

   It was the No 2 yellow pencils for writing, plain 'off white' paper for math and blue lined composition paper for writing. On occasion we used pens instead of pencils and I am still trying to remember if this was a time when the ball point pen was taking the place of a 'fountain pen'. But, we were never allowed to use a pen for math. What would happen if you made a mistake? Ink didn't erase!

   Let's see now...there were the robins, the blue jays, and the turtles, the poor turtles and poor Joey P, who was a turtle most of his years in school. These were often the names given to the reading groups.

   Remember reading groups? While one group gathered in a circle for reading instruction, the rest of the class was busy at their desks, supposedly doing either map work or doing extra math problems. Nothing to do? How about practicing the alphabet, both the capital and lower case letters. I mean, how many times can you write the alphabet? The teacher called it guided practice time. We called it 'busy' work.

   The worst time of the week... music class. Once a week, the music teacher would come into the classroom and attempt to 'teach' us to sing. She would take out her pitch pipe, pick a note and start to sing ”The itsy-bitsy spider. Every day, year after year.  In grade 1 or 2 it was probably OK.  But in the 6^th grade.....please.

   We called her the old maid. She wore the same gray sweater with big leather button and always had the smell of mothballs Along with the sweater she wore the same blue plaid skirt. On her feet she wore thick stockings and black shoes that laced up the front. When she walked around the room she often sounded like a small horse, the heels of her shoes hitting the wooden classroom floor. It was always the longest 25 minutes of the week and sometime a good time to get sent to the office to see the principal.

   The truth is, I must have found some comfort and pleasure in the classroom. After high school, I went on to college and, after spending a year or so in business administration classes and along with tutoring high school kids at several local high schools in some very rural sections of West Virginia in my free time, I decided to become a teacher and school counselor. Those of you who know me know that I spent the next 35+ years at various levels of public education before retiring.

   Those early years, both as a student - and I was not always the best student for sure - and as a beginning teacher, taught me the importance and value of a good education and what could be accomplished with just a little hard work

   Schools have changed a great deal since 1951. From the robins, blue jays and turtle reading groups, to trading in the yellow No 2 pencil for today's latest computers or tablets, today's schools offer opportunities we never dreamed 65 years ago. But one thing has remained the same...the importance of studying hard and getting the best education possible.

   And about that music teacher that drove many of us crazy in class for 25 minutes each week, perhaps she was attempting to teach us more about life than how to sing back then. The good news? We at least all started the song on the same note. 

Silencing a long standing tradition....

   An article in the local paper this past week caught my attention. At first it caused me to chuckle a bit. Why would people get so upset because the town manager decided to silence the town's fire horn, especially after receiving several noise complaints from town citizens. But what he may have failed to realize was it's long standing tradition within the community.

   North of Bangor, tucked away in the woods is the town of Millinocket, once a community with thriving paper mills, busy main streets lined with shops and businesses and championship high school athletic teams every so often.

   Since the early 1950 the fire horn has been an important part of everyday life in the Millinocket community, blasting twice each day, first at 8:00 announcing the start of school and then again to 9:00 pm, reminding folks of the town's 9:00 curfew. The curfew had been eliminated many years ago, but the practice of sounding the horn at 9:00 pm continued until.... August 18, 2015.

   In protest to the decision to silence the fire horn, community members have taken to their cars and at 9:00 pm drive up and down the main streets of the town, honking their car horns, in an attempt to keep alive a long standing community tradition. But there may be a bit more to this story.

   For many years the backbone of the Maine economy has been it's 'world known' pulp and paper industry. But in recent years the industry has fallen on hard times and many of the mills have either moved away or shut down. The mills in  Millinocket closed about two years ago creating financial and personal hardships on many families in the area. And as recently as yesterday, another mill in western Maine announced the layoff of over three hundred of its workforce. Another blow to the Maine economy. But is this a surprise?

   Even back in the mid to late 1980's, the paper companies began to send a message that the industry was changing. In the future it would be very difficult for young people to graduate from high school and transition into what were generally considered well paying jobs at the local mills. The jobs would not be there. And that warning has now proven to be a reality.

   But old traditions don't give up easily. The mills are gone, the jobs are no longer available. Young people are migrating to more populated areas in search of jobs and a new way of life. The once busy mill towns are now only a skeleton of what they were in the past. No smoke spews from the deteriorating smoke stacks.

   But the people in the area are working hard to create, develop, and establish a new future, with new traditions.

   But until such time, for those who remain in the area ...is there really anything wrong with continuing to sound the fire horn twice a day, just for a few seconds, keeping one small tradition as a reminder there are new and exciting things to come to the region?

   Perhaps even as early as 1964, who would have known that a folk singer by the name of Bob Dylan would have been able to see the future...

 

                                   " Come gather 'round people

                                    Wherever you roam  
                                    And admit that the waters  
                                    Around you have grown                                    
                                    And accept it that soon                                   
                                    You'll be drenched to the bone                                   
                                    If your time to you                                    
                                   Is worth savin'                                    
                                  Then you better start swimmin'                                    
                                  Or you'll sink like a stone                                    
                                  For the times they are a-changin'."

   Maybe Dylan was right. But please don't let this be the fire horn's last blast.


                       

'These ones' and other nightmares of a retired English teacher..

   As the surgeon prepared to make the final cuts to remove the growth from the patient’s brain, he asks those assisting him to prepare to clamp off several arteries that supplied blood to the area.

   “No, no. no. Not those ones,” he shouts. “These ones! These ones! Over here.”

   Fortunately or perhaps unfortunately, the words and language we select and use reflects who we are, the level of education we have achieved and even, perhaps, our social standing. Words are important. But as times change, as we become more reliant on computers, on spell check, as we read, write and speak less, as we depend more on getting our entertainment from ipads and social media, the quality of our vocabulary changes as well. OMG!

   I studied English, grammar and literature in high school and, admittedly, I was not the best student. I taught English for a number of years to high school students and I can honestly confess to myself that I did not do a very good job. I was not always the best role model.

   Looking back, I should have had students write more, learn at least one new word each day, read more and have them do more public speaking ('like' and 'um ya know', etc.). Oh, and yes, I should have and should continue to practice what I preached, even to this day, regardless of how old I am.

   So...what are some common words but often misused or misunderstood today?

   Most people refer to a 'travesty' as a tragic event, when the correct use of the word implies an event as a parody or...to make fun of something. My Life, The Travesty!

   If I 'peruse' the newspaper each morning, one may understand it to mean that I have skimmed over or glanced at the daily news. The correct use of the word means “to carefully review.” Now, at 6:30 in the morning, I am in no mood to carefully review the Bangor Daily News, checking the accuracy of its reporting of local events or to check for spelling errors. Don't they have spell check?

   There are many who may agree that what I write about is 'redundant', meaning it is often repetitive. OK. Some of the things I write about and say...could be cut out. Hmm. Sounds like many parts of the campaign speeches we have been listening to.

   My 'redundant' point is simple. These are words commonly used today but over time their meanings have changed, depending upon the context in which they were used.

   I have always believed that it is easy to sit back and criticize. But with criticism comes a responsibility to make positive suggestions. I had proposed that students learn at least one new word each day, so here are several suggestions for this week.

   'Fulminate' means to loudly attack or denounce. The political candidates used the recent debate time to fulminate against some of their rivals. Now doesn't that sound better than saying “the other candidates really  suck!”

   If there is an enthusiasm and a willingness to achieve or accomplish something good, it often shows a degree 'alacrity'. An attempt to bring about world peace in some of the countries involved in war shows a high level of alacrity on the part of the U.S. How about within some of our own cities?

   A word often used to mean to 'make unnecessary' is the word 'obviate'. This word is actually being  used a bit more these days. It has absolutely nothing to do with getting pregnant.  (Can't figure that one out! You may want to call Donald Trump on that one.)
   Wouldn't it be great if we were able to obviate most of the meaningless and time wasting commercials on television? But then, how would we know about the sales and special prices offered by the local Honda car dealership just down the road? (My favorite would be to obviate junk mail, both in my postal mailbox and on my cell phone.)

   My goal for this  week is to use the word 'fulminate' at least three times when speaking to others. That shouldn't be too difficult.There is enough  out there to have an extreme opinion or two,

   I really do try not to abuse the English language too much. I worry about the future generations however. Cursive writing is not taught in many classrooms any more. (I'd like to get some of those green cards with the letters that were posted above the blackboard. Oops. Is blackboard politically correct these days?) The spelling bee is becoming a dinosaur. As the little girl said to her mother in the store the other day. “Mom...we don't have spelling tests any more. I have spell check on my tablet now.”
   And as for the doctor and “these ones,” I think I might look for a second opinion before going too much further with this particular doctor.

Some of these are down right weird....

   The older I get, the more I think about the meaning of one's life, the experiences and  lessons learned from those experiences and how one builds personal character. But the real question for me has been not what we learned but  how and when we learned it. In many cases, we know life's lessons are learned on  playgrounds or  athletic fields, in the classroom or at the dinner table.
   Perhaps the lessons are learned from television shows (I have referred to the early days of the Andy Griffith Show in  past blogs) or possibly by the stories we hear or the books we read. Or maybe we learned them from those “morally charged” or “value laden ” rhymes and jingles we have come to know and often memorized as a child.

   At a recent antique auction we purchased some older kids' books. Part of the package included a teaching series of children's literature, one entitled Rhyme and Jingle Reader, copyright 1912. Bored by the recent reporting of the political candidates debates on television, I decided to refresh my memory with the all time favorites. (Where did some of these ever come from?)

   Who doesn't remember sitting on Grandma's knee and listen as she told the sad tale Jack and Jill.........

                                        Jack and Jill went up the hill
                                         To fetch a pail of water;
                                         Jack fell down and broke his crown,
                                         And Jill came tumbling after.

   Poor Jack! And she would always end  it by gently dropping me on the floor.

   And then there is the famous story of a crazy egg sitting on a wall.

                                           Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

                                            Humpty Dumpty had a great fall;
                                            All the King’s horses, all the King’s men
                                            Couldn’t put Humpty together again.

   This little rhyme always cracked me up. Can you picture an egg sitting on a wall and then all of a sudden.......splat!

    And who didn't have a friend called Georgey..................

                                             Georgey-porgey, pudding and pie,
                                             Kissed the girls and made them cry.
                                             When the boys came out to play,
                                             Georgey-porgey ran away.

   Now I have never seen a cat play a fiddle or a cow jumping over the moon, although I have seen a few cows 'mooning'. And much to my surprise, after looking at the local newspaper, there is a rock band made up of cats coming to Maine in the next week or two. Who would have guessed that in 1912 someone would have predicted the future of rock music and the important roll cats play.....

                                                Hey, diddle, diddle!
                                                The cat and the fiddle,
                                                The cow jumped over the moon;
                                                The little dog laughed
                                                To see such sport,

                                                And the dish ran away with the spoon.

   Dish? Spoon? Running off together? Where did that come from?

   Back in the day, I am sure many of these nursery rhymes were designed to teach good values and life lessons. Some were even used to teach math. For example...

                                                 Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers,
                                                 A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked.
                                                 If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers,
                                                Where is the peck of peppers Peter Piper picked?

   The first question is...how many pickled peppers are in a peck and then, what did he do with peck? If he ate them, he was probably a pretty sick boy. And if he decided to sell them and keep the money, would he have been a young Donald Trump?

   Along with Peter, there was Simon, Simple Simon, and his first encounter with what has now become known as the 'mobile food cart' in some towns and villages. And like many today, Simple had a problem,  no money...

                                               Simple Simon met a pieman,
                                               Going to the fair;
                                               Says Simple Simon to the Pieman,
                                                          “Let me taste your ware.”
                                               Says the pieman to Simple Simon,
                                                          “Show me first your penny.”
                                               Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
                                                          “Indeed, I have not any

   Poor Simple. He had no money and was probably hungry. Maybe he was one of the first illegal immigrants seeking to sneak  into  a new country.

   The Rhyme and Jingle Reader is filled with rhymes and stories, many of which are familiar, but there are a few even new to me. But, if these rhymes and poems were used as lessons, for life, it explains a great deal about the attitudes and fears of that generation.

                                            Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town,

                                             Upstairs and downstairs in his nightgown,
                                             Rapping at the window, crying through the lock,
                                            “Are the children in their beds, for now it’s 
                                              eight o’clock?”

   Today, if Wee Willie were an actual person, he would probably be arrested.

   But, back to my grandmother's knee for just a moment. The following was one of her favorites. I am not sure why I remember that and please don't ask me  because I just don't know...

                                                    Trit-trot, trit-trot,
                                                    To buy a penny cake;
                                                    Home again, home again,
                                                    I met a black-snake.
                                                           I  picked up a stone
                                                   And breaky backy-bone
                                                   Trit-trot, trit-trot
                                                   All the way home

   ???  Perhaps she  wanted to own a horse or just liked to say "trit-trot:!! And the answer to the 'how much is in a  peck?” Sixteen dry pints!!!  I said some of these were down right weird.  

                                                 

With only a few days left...

   With only a few day left in the month of July, this summer seems to be moving right along... kinda! Many I have spoken with have made a somewhat similar comment...”When is summer finally going to get here with the hot muggy days and the warm uncomfortable nights?”

   For sure we have had some very picturesque days, clear blue skies, warm sunny days, but not too many breaking the 90 degree mark, perhaps just one or two.

   There have been several warm nights, but none that have required the air conditioner at full blast for extended periods of time.

   August 1^st seems to be a date, however, that signals a midpoint. Half way through the summer, only several  weeks before the new school year begins, kids  think about trading in their swim suits for textbooks and backpacks and become  eager for back to school shopping to see the latest in this year's 'must haves' styles and clothing trends.

   High school teams begin those dreaded 'two-a-day' practices. Parents are ready for the time when the house will be quiet during the day for at least a few minutes..

   Those families who haven't taken their vacations yet begin to panic. Can't we just squeeze in maybe a day or two away? Please?

   Even the mosquitoes and black flies seem a bit out of sorts this year. But the deer flies? They are in great form right now.

   Mid-summer is a time when people look forward to those few remaining warm days and trips to the beach, or maybe the last neighborhood barbecue.

    Is there still time to have one last yard sale, to clean out the garage in order to make room for the snow blower? Of course there is! In fact, I was able to pick up a really great lawn mower just the other day at a sale right down the street. And the price? Perfect. I'll take it. And by the way all you skeptics... it does work!

   But August 1^st, or there about, is a time to also look back. It's an opportunity to pat yourself on the back for the projects you were able to complete around the house this year, a bit of outdoor painting, working in the garden, finishing up on those indoor projects that didn't get done this past winter.

   And one can not forget the outdoor pizza and bread oven my wife and I recently finished, a project a bit larger and more challenging than we had anticipated, or at least more challenging than I had anticipated.. Who knew we would need so many rocks and sand!  Who knew our yard had so many rocks! (although the lawn mower knew) Who knew there were so many textures of sand? But the smell of the freshly cooked pizza and baking breads, it was well worth the work and the weather cooperated with no rain and cool temperatures.

    Normally, when we start a project like this, the temperatures soar well into the 90's. But now that it's done, I bet the neighbors are jealous as the smell of baking bread fills the neighborhood. (No. we am not going to trade a loaf of fresh bread for your very well used weed whacker. And besides, I know it doesn't work.)

   Summertime is suppose to be a time for fun and family, a break from the world events and tragic news. But the airways have remained filled with the news of shootings and killings, of the devastation caused by flooding and storms, of the world financial and political struggles and the seemingly endless wars and terrorist attacks.

   And speaking of politics...Come on folks, sixteen candidates and still counting and the election is still over a year away. Think of all the money that is being spent. Perhaps if there is that much money to be spent getting elected in this country, for almost any office these days it seems, the time has come to look for a better system. (Reminds me of the new 'golden rule.' He, or she, who has the gold... rules! Isn't that right Mr Trump??)

   And as for “politics' in Maine this summer, it's unfortunate  this is the new way of doing business "as usual" or maybe it's worse than usual. Well... at least some of the states' law attorneys have some work this year. Bet they're not on vacation right now. (Are the Koch Bros. really paying the legal bills?)

   Looking back on this year's summer projects, I would say that we were able to accomplish more than in the past years. Perhaps it was because I am not sharing that precious time with working or maybe we were better organized, or both. Are there more outdoor projects  to complete before the snow flies? Of course. But if we were to finish  everything, then there would be nothing to do or to complain about.

   Before long, September will be at the doorstep and that means Fall in Maine. It is my favorite season. The nights will be cooler and the weather forecasters will be soon warning of frost. The leaves on the trees will be turning from a rich green color to bright reds and gold and before long it will be time to break out the rake and... think about starting up the old snow blower, to see if it still runs of course. (I said 'only think about it'.)

   And the first night with a fire in the pellet stove to take the chill out of the air, we'll take a look at the pictures we took this summer on the cell phones, decide the ones to keep or delete, cut a steamy hot piece of pizza, tomato and fresh basil, freshly cooked in the outdoor oven and turn off the evening news. See...It's summer all over again. :) 

                                               

Just in case you missed it...

   Just in case you missed it, July 2nd was a pretty important day. The date represents the mid point of the year, halfway, meaning there were 182 days before July 2 and there are 182 days remaining in the year after July 2. ( the exception being a 'leap year' of course.) To be more precise, the exact time of the mid point is 12:00 noon, or 1:00 pm for those areas of the world that are on daylight savings time.

   The mid point of anything can be viewed with different meanings and interpretations.

   For example, if you are having a good year, you hope the remaining 182 days continue in the same way. But if you are having a bad year, you hope that day 183 becomes a turning point for you and the remainder of the year is a bit more positive.

   July 2nd is the date for some memorable historical events too. I am sure we all remember the coronation of Emperor Valentinian in the year 437 when he assumed reign of the Western Roman Empire, taking over from his mother. 

   Interesting though. Although he was now the Emperor, his mother still called the shots! Some things never change.

   Perhaps you remember 1698, the year and date that Thomas Savery patented the steam engine. No kidding here. This invention really did change the world and the future.

   July 2, 1776...the date the Continental Congress severed ties with Great Britain, although the Declaration of Independence was not officially announced until July 4^th.

   In 1921, on July 2nd, President Harding signed the Knox-Porter Resolution, formally bringing World War I to an end. Unfortunately it would not be the last conflict involving the United States and others seeking power and control around the world.

   It all began, for Wal-Mart, in 1962, when they opened the doors for the first time in Rogers, Arkansas. And the rest is, as they say... history.

   July 2nd also appears to have been a very popular birth date. But to be honest, there are names on the list of people I have never even heard of, perhaps the one exception being Lindsay Lohan. We all remember Lindsay, right!

   The date also has its share of deaths too, some of the more notable names being Henry the Fowler (943), Earnest Hemingway (1961), Betty Grable (1973), and who can forget Fred Gwynne (1993) of the Munsters' fame.

   It's interesting there are no holidays or significant observances on July 2,nd unless you want to consider World UFO Day. But then ask anyone in the 'know' and they will quickly inform you there are no such things as UFOs, so... there is no real need for UFO day. I mean, when was the last time you saw a little green man (or woman) walking the streets of New York City.

   In case you are having difficulty with the concept of the mid point of the year in terms of days, here is another way of looking at it. As of noon of July 2nd, 4380 hours have past in year 2015 with 4380 yet to go. That means there have been 26,280 minutes to date, many of which I have probably wasted and another 26,280 to go. I wonder how many of those minutes I will waste too? And no, I am not going to break that time down into seconds. Now that would be a real waste of time!

   In our daily discussions with others, we use the expressions of mid point and halfway quite often. “How far into the book are you.?” “ Oh, half way.” How far along into the television show or movie?” “About halfway.” “I am thinking about coming to see the game. Do I still have time?” “The game is at mid point, just beginning the second half.”

   But I wonder what would happen if we knew when we were at the mid point of our life, the middle, half way? Would we make any changes?

   The challenge is that, for the most part, we really don't know when we have reached the middle. We have some ideas, we know when we have less time than more time, but the middle, I am not so sure. And how important is it to know when or where the exact middle actually is anyhow?

   July 2nd of any year may be a good day to sit down with a cool glass of ice tea, a few cookies and take a look back over the first 182 days, do a mid point evaluation. What went well? Are there things that need to change? What can I do to make the remainder of the year as good or better than the first half. 

   In fact, midday of any day could give you a similar opportunity. Is this going to turn out to be a good day or a bad day and if a bad one, what can I do to make it better. The truth may be that perhaps there may be nothing, but at least you're thinking about it.

   We don't really know how long we will live. Maybe, we need to treat each day as if we were halfway and make the future as good if not better than the past.

   And about that 'mid life' thing? Was that really the time I wanted to trade in the minivan for the red Corvette convertible?