My abuelita Dolores Reyes de Irureta Goyena and I were pals.
Abue and I were pals from the moment I can remember her when I was 5or 6 until
she died in 1970. She considered herself an artist (she painted and was a
coloratura soprano) so she protected me from stuff in the presence of my father
and mother telling them they simply did not understand the mind of an artist.
Like her, she told them, I was an artist.
Throughout our friendly and very close relationship my
grandmother showered me with the advice that came from a woman who had lived.
Her most often repeated maxim, when I was wowed at the fact that she always
seemed to be right was, “Más sabe el diablo por viejo que por diablo.” This translates to, “The devil is wise not
because he is the devil but because he is an old man.”
As I watch my plants in our garden and I know what they
are doing and why they are thriving or not, I understand that I have invaluable
information in my head that does not come from books but from having observed
my garden for many years. I am not particularly worried or upset that I will
die with all this information in my head not extracted. It will fade away with
my body and whatever else is part of it into oblivion.
The sunnier side of all this has been explored by many a
Hollywood film where an adult goes back in time to the body of their youth with
their mature mind and experience intact.
Often we men when discussing the manly pursuit of women
we tell each other, “If we had only known then what we know now! We would have
been unstoppable with the girls.”
It would seem that practical wisdom comes late in life
when there are only two possible uses for it. One is to impart it to whoever
might listen or to go to the grave with it. Unless of course you decide to have
a post mid-life crisis, you dump your wife, buy a red Jag and go for a
middle-aged redhead. The wisdom that comes from having lived long immediately
nixes that and you find yourself content in the idea that you no longer rake
leaves in the garden (and break your back) but simply scoop them up with the
vacuum effect of a good mulching lawnmower.
Photographically I used to shoot rolls and rolls. That
with time became rolls and then roll. In the last few years that roll becomes
one or two exposures. With my digital camera I use the same philosophy. You
know when you have your picture and you need not go on and waste shutter finger
energy.
My wife says I live in the past and yet her approach to
many things is through the wisdom of hindsight. She often tells me, “We should
have done this.”
My Abuelita knew better. Her maxim was, “Nadie te quita
lo bailado.” This translates to, “Nobody can take away dances danced and
pleasures had even if the present brings pain and worry.”
My illustration here is a scan of one of my Mark’s Work Wearhouse
socks. I own 10 pairs. They are black so I can wear them with a suit but they are
sporty enough to wear with jeans. Best of all I never have mismatched socks.
And that terrible syndrome of the loss of the matching sock (the used to go to
where clouds come from into a completely blue sky) is reduced to a minimum.
Every couple of years I buy one pair of black jeans and two pairs of blue, also at Mark's. The
new ones replace the old ones which I relegate to gardening and to cleaning the
house.Why did I ever waste so much money (the kind of thought my Rosemary would have) on Levis and Lees?
Is that wisdom? Yes, and I am not even a
devil.
As for women, I am not going to look back and kick myself for not knowing what Helmut Newton knew back in the 80s. I have my very own Maria Ninguém right here at home.
As for women, I am not going to look back and kick myself for not knowing what Helmut Newton knew back in the 80s. I have my very own Maria Ninguém right here at home.