Smart People and My Town

    Where I grew up we had a lot of smart people, and a lot of talented folks, and many of the people in public schools were less than stellar, less than what would be many of our paradigms as to what we aspired to be. But I would say most of us would have examples near and far, close by and off in the distance throughout the world, that we would wish to emulate or be like.

    We had each other to bounce off of, and books and television, magazines and articles to glean from. Music, theatre. Our parents were sources of some culture, of course. Our religious communities and sports. We in Bloomington were free and had access to so much. Like much of the rest of the world, I would say especially in the Western dynamic of capitalism and limited democracy, republican federalism or whatever we call it.

    Freedom to learn, carouse, sing, dance, compete, work.

    Robert Bosch and Roy Wroth, (Roth?) were some smart guys, I knew only in smaller contexts, in neighborhoods farther than mine.

    My neighborhood fellows and friends were all pretty smart, too. Mant children of academics, some of whom would be academic literati in their own rights. Some of us joined the military, which worked for benefits and early job opportunities that later flourished into good or perhhaps great careers.

    Bloomington, and Indiana, and the United States has proven a place of accomplished dreams and hopes.

    Most of us went on to success. Were we good enough then or now?That can be debated. Some of died in the past years. That tragically defines some of our outcomes.

    Jason in doing well. That of the Elm Heights area, but after we had letf the elementary school. His name ends with a V. Thanks to one of my sisters, I have spoken with him off and on the last seven or so years.

    Pete and Jake have done well. Seth and Paul, I imagine so.

    What about me? I married well. I have good kids. I have some savings.

    I have written some things. Who knows?

    I will continue working, writing, living.

    And think of some smarties in my home town.

    I think James Marsh was one, a year of me. Died in 1998.

    My boss considered him a dear friend.