Was This Written 50 Years Too Early or 50 Years Too Late?

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I‘ve always been puzzled by this thought: Was I born 50 years too early or 50 years too late? This thought resurfaced this week as I rode the train back and forth to Chicago while the rest of the world dazzled itself with remembering the 50th anniversary of Apollo 11.

It reminds me of a skit I once did as Cubmaster for Peter’s pack. We had our meetings in the cavernous Mendon Firehall. It was always filled to capacity. Filled with boys, their parents, and their siblings.

That night I donned a pair of Buzz Lightyear “wings” (actually they were my young nephew’s and I don’t know how I fit them over my shoulders without overstretching them). After strutting a few steps with those wings, I added a Woody hat on top of my head.

Maybe one of the Toy Story movies was out that year.

In either case, I asked the pack to guess who I was. Some of the boys says “Buzz” and some said “Woody.” I said “Nope” to each guess. Then I looked up to the parents in Pack 105 and said – in a distinct John Wayne kind of voice – “Well, pilgrim, some people call me a ‘The Space Cowboy.’”

And so it has been in my life. Teetering on the precipice of “born too early” while simultaneously straddling the ledge of “born too late.” Some might view this as a Continue Reading “Was This Written 50 Years Too Early or 50 Years Too Late?”

My Lunch with Pearl Bailey

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[This Commentary originally appeared in the September 13, 1990 issue of The Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel.]

CarosaCommentaryNewLogo_259I used to always ride the train. An unnatural fear caused me to seek every opportunity to avoid flight. Yes, yes, I know all the actuarial tables say flying is the second safest form of transportation (after elevators). In that portion of my life when time seemed less important (namely, both during and immediately after my collegiate years), I viewed the train as the preferred method of travel.

The train relaxed me. It allowed me to read. It permitted me to get up and walk around. It provided the opportunity to be alone or discover new friends, depending on my mood. Most importantly, it forced me to slow down. Once I boarded the train, I knew I would next step Continue Reading “My Lunch with Pearl Bailey”

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