I was text messaging back and forth with a dear friend recently. Someone that would call my dad’s house to find me. I would have to take the cordless phone out on the front porch for privacy. That was in the late eighties.
In the early eighties, I would talk to this person from the phone hanging in the kitchen. The cord just long enough to reach to the broom closet in the hallway.
During our texting last week, the word “YOLO” popped up. I have a rule that anyone born before 1979 shouldn’t abbreviate words in a text message. Don’t even tell me that you are LOL right now.
So I quickly googled what the hell YOLO meant while my friend was texting their next message.
You Only Live Once….
“Jeez Shep, YOLO! You need a vacation.”
Later on I got another, “you only live once!”
“Maybe you should buy a car that was built in this century? YOLO!”
I think my friend was recently Yolo’d by one of their kids and was testing it out on me.
They thought….
I’ll use YOLO with someone that I’ve known since our parents had rotary phones. I’ll text John Shepley and remind him that he only lives once.
Thank you for the reminder, but I’m well aware of the amount of lives that I have.
Maybe I will buy a car? I just don’t want one with an iPad on the dashboard. I don’t need seat warmers or back up cameras.
My mom always told me to back up until you hear falling glass.
I might even go on a vacation in the near future. Somewhere exotic like Southern Indiana. I can go on a pork tenderloin sandwich tour and watch the farmers plant their crops. Go to honky-tonks and listen to songs about lost love and Jesus. I'll watch the sun cross over the Ohio River into the Hoosier forest and settle over the Wabash.
I should go visit my mom down in Greensburg. Maybe eat some Hoosier pie at a diner in Solsberry.
I often talk about our journey and the path that we take. Instead of the bumps and curves on the road of life, our voyage sometimes feels like a fast flowing current down a rushing creek. Tougher times feel more like a raging river.
Frantically looking for a rock to cling and then suddenly a friend is there on the bank with a tree branch to grab.
In my case the tree branch was a text message telling me that I only live once.
No time for a vacation, but I am eyeballing a 1975 Cadillac Eldorado. When that day comes when I need to replace Betty the Green Blazer…
… you might just see me tooling around in Edith, the creamy Eldorado.
From an old Illinois Bell telephone to a Verizon iPhone…
…it is good to have dear friends during this one life that I do have.
