There is a “Climate Change,” going
on that is very subtle. I consistently have new readers getting a
copy of Three Hundred Zeroes in Germany. What is a amazing here is
that they’re ordering more copies than the readers in the UK. English
is ESL, or “English as a Second
Language,” for them. I get occasional orders from places, such as,
Italy, The Netherlands, and elsewhere, but the Germans are reading
books in English.

In the summer of 2013, Jane and I
wandered all over Europe, hitting 13 countries. We ran into folks
from all over the globe, and it seemed that all of these globe
trotters spoke at least some English. However, you could always count
on the Germans to speak incredibly good English. A sign of fluency is
being able to understand innuendo and humor, and they excelled at it.
Is it their educational system? Is it just a desire to understand
English? Why not Spanish? Better yet, most of them did understand
other languages, but their English was excellent.

I’m seeing it in my reader audience.
I’m envious, I keep thinking back to when I was a kid; how I wish my
culture had encouraged me to become fluent in a second language,
especially German. I ended up stationed in Germany for several years,
during my military duty, and how I wish I had studied it before
arriving there.

I knew absolutely NOTHING about any
foreign language. When I flew into Germany, arriving at Frankfurt, I
found my military bus to take me to my airbase. It was a school bus
type vehicle. The driver was German, and there were no other
passengers, just me. We hopped onto the Autobahn and drove the 150 km
to Sembach AFB. As I rode along, I asked the driver about various
things I was seeing along the way. It was my first time away from the
USA.

I kept seeing signs along the Autobahn
for a city named, “Ausfahrt.” This city was huge! I had been a
ham radio operator for years and had talked with hundreds, if not
thousands, of German hams over the years, but none had ever mentioned
“Ausfahrt.” Not wanting to appear stupid, I resisted prodding the
driver about Ausfahrt. Eventually, I couldn’t stand it anymore and I
asked, “Please, tell me, I’ve heard of Frankfurt, Berlin, Hamburg,
Munich, etc., but I’ve never heard of “Ausfahrt,” how can that
be.” The driver couldn’t help himself, he burst into laughter and
when he was able to finally gain control, he informed me that
“Ausfahrt,” means, “Exit.” I had been seeing the exit signs
from the Autobahn and had no clue. I sat there dumbfounded and
embarrassed. Then, to add insult to injury, the driver told me, “We
have another large city named, “Einfahrt,” too. Enter!

I’m willing to be my German reader
friends, visiting the USA, will never be surprised to see the city of
“Exit,” along our Interstates.

I wrote this a few years ago. It actually came to me while I was hiking the Appalachian Trail. It is amazing the things that go through your mind when you’re off on a very long walk in the woods. Who better to write your obituary than yourself?

___________________________________

I’m not going to live forever. Surprised? I hope not? I have some thoughts on what my self-delivered eulogy should say and I’m sharing them with you here today. I think it would be so appropriate if we could deliver our own eulogy, after all, who knows us better than ourselves? Of course we could record something and play it back, but that is so much like watching a re-run; I’d love to be able to do it “real-time!” Anyway, if I could talk to you from the other side, here is what I would say:

“I speculate the rumors of my death were not all that exaggerated this time? They had to get it right eventually. Hopefully I went quietly, I hate to think I made the front page of the National Enquirer: “Florida Man Killed Attempting Sex With 18 Foot Alligator…”

If I could sum my life up in a sentence it would read; “He lived for the moment, racing motorcycles, bicycles, hiking, a serious Ham Radio enthusiast, author, devoted Toastmaster, loved good food and helping others.” I tried to live by one rule; “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

My family will go on. My family—that still sounds a bit odd to my ears. I never pictured myself married with a family. It is a concept that always seemed was for other people. I was never going to get married and in some ways, I never did. I’ve spent the majority of my life with my best friend, Jane. We have two wonderful kids and they’re merely an outgrowth of the love that the two of us have for each other. 

We were never supposed to be able to have children and I had come to accept that. Then one night at our local Chinese restaurant I opened my fortune cookie and it said, “You’ll be expecting a bundle of joy in August.” Jane had planted it there with the staff and was beaming at me across the table.

All these years later, she still beams. As we’ve grown together over the years we haven’t grown up. We seem to laugh more and suffer each other’s pranks more than ever; it’s what life is supposed to be. Years ago we made an agreement to love and cherish until death do we part; and that is what I’m addressing here; the “part” part.

I can envision a scenario where Jane goes to the local paper to write my obituary. Jane is very efficient and economical. When the ad rep tells her the fee for a submitted obituary is $1.00 per word she’ll pause, reflect, and then say, “Well, then, let it read, ‘Dennis Blanchard died.’ ” “Sorry, ma’am, replies the editor,” but I’m afraid there’s a seven-word minimum on all submitted obituaries.”

Flustered, Jane thinks for a minute and then instructs the ad rep to write,“Dennis Blanchard died. Selling used hiking gear…”

I want everyone to know that I never died — rather, I lived! Dying wasn’t a particularly frightening notion for me, its part of living and have I lived! Sometimes I’ve pondered: given the choice would I like to win a big lottery jackpot, or live life over…without a doubt I would do it again, it has been one hell of a ride! Money could never buy my wealth — memories of travels, accomplishments, failures, kids and the love of my life, there is no purchase of that; it is earned.

This is not a time for despair, this is a time for fond memories, stories about all the good times and food, yes, food! This is a celebration of a life and I loved any celebration that involved food. Good food is good comfort and that’s what is needed now. Put away the hankies grab a knife and fork and live for the moment; that would the best tribute I can think of.

___________________________________

Few things in life are game changers.
Some of the more obvious ones are; a major illness, having children,
becoming unemployed suddenly, from a long-term employment and so on.

Less obvious events can also be life
changers, but they sneak up on you, such as: friendships, technology
changes, an inheritance and so on. The Appalachian Trail was such a
life-changer for me, I didn’t see it coming.

When Jane, my long-suffering wife,
convinced me I had to go hike it in 2007, I saw it as going off on a
long hiking/camping trip. It was on my bucket list since the ’60’s,
but I hadn’t really acted on it. My brother and I had promised each
other we would hike it together when we finished our military duty,
but he was killed in Vietnam, so that never happened. As most of my
readers know, I took his Purple Heart Medal with me on the trail and
I’m convinced it is what motivated me to finish, in spite of a
six-artery heart bypass operation.

The hike, the operation and the people
along that marvelous trail were life-changers for me. I could feel
the change, even before the hike ended. I felt different. I knew that
I was going back to civilization a different man, and hopefully, a
better one. I’ve spent most of my life as an electrical engineer, that changed, now I am an author. I only have one book published so far, Three Hundred Zeroes, but have two more in the works. Still, I’ll always be an engineer at heart.

I wake each morning now with a smile. I
know that, regardless of what the day holds, I will make the most of
it, not complain and enjoy every minute—even when the going gets
rough.

Modern technology gave me a new heart.
They didn’t replace it, but they did serious repairs on it. The
medical profession made physical repairs to my system, but
inadvertently, they gave me an opportunity to see the world in a new
light, and that light shines brightly!