November 10, 2006 WINDING UP AND WINDING DOWN - Yesterday I surrendered my driver's license. I had to face the fact that I am no longer able to drive. It was a blow, but I knew the day was coming. My blindness is too far advanced. I would be a menace on the road, both to myself and to others. So, I saved some money. Had I been allowed to continue driving, and I was hoping I would be allowed to retain that freedom, I would have had to pay $36.00 and the license would have been good for 6 years. Instead, I will now have an ID. It cost $5.00 and is good for life. It never has to be renewed. I couldn't even fill out the necessary forms. Charlotte did that for me and I signed them. Then, I recorded my thumbprints and stared at an icon I could not see while my photo was taken. Charlotte suppressed a smile of satisfaction, of course. She did not want me to get a new driver's license. Fear drove her to that decision. So now I must accept that I can no longer get behind the wheel of a car and drive, even with my special glasses. In a way, it's a relief. But, I still suffer the anguish of loss. After we left the license office, Charlotte drove me to the Pittsburg High School where I voted. There, I was put in front of a large hooded machine that magnified my ballot. I also put on headphones, so that I could both hear and see the instructions. Piece of cake. The folks at the polling place were very nice to me, helped me through the entire process. We had been to Mineola that morning, where I spoke to two classes in the school library. Charlotte drove into a parking space and we walked toward the entrance. We were met by the principal who pointed to a sign on an empty parking spot in front of the building. The sign read: Reserved for Jory Sherman. There was also a banner bearing my name over the entrance doorway. The principal gave me his parking spot. We signed in and were given name tags and Joy Stuart, the librarian, escorted us to the library. The first group of youngsters were freshman English students. They had to sit on the floor in a semicircle. The next group were juniors and seniors from science and English composition classes. All had signed up for my discussion of the short story. They were polite and attentive and asked good questions. So, too, the various teachers. We always discover a few closet writers in such situations, and not all were students. Joy had done her research and introduced me to the classes. I gave them what amounted to a mini-mini-course in writing, focusing on the short story. I hope I planted seeds that will grow if any ever decide to take the enjoyable plunge. Tomorrow night the library will host an autograph party for a number of local writers. Since we are unable to drive at night, we did our stint in yesterday's daylight. I gave the students the gist and bare bones of my short story workshop, opening the door to creating stories and scenes without fear, without obstacles. If they follow my directions, none will ever experience so-called writer's block and they will finish what they start. And, they will write well because they will be conscious of language, not just words. Joy wrote me the next day that there were 69 people attending in that small library and sent pictures she had taken during my visit. My 74th birthday was on Oct. 20th... For months I had been getting calls from my two sisters and my son Vic that they were all coming out to celebrate that event. It wasn't to be just a mere visit, however, it was to be a kind of reunion over a few days. It sounded complicated, but fun. And, it was both. On Monday of that week, my sister Kay Bell, who lives in Richmond, California, and my son Vic (Jory V. Sherman), who lives in Berkley, flew to Houston, Texas. They were met there by my sister Sunny Lynn Bate, who drove there from West Palm Beach, Florida in her new Prius with its Magellan GPS system. That same morning, Charlotte and I drove to Austin to meet them at an Extended Stay Hotel. That's a 6 1/2 hour drive, taking I-20 and I-35. My half-brother, Bill Sherman and his wife, Evelyn, live near there and the next day we all met at our hotel. That same morning, Tuesday, I guided my immediate family to familiar haunts, Town Lake and Riverside Drive where my friend Fred Bean used to live and where we had kayaked and fished nearly every day when Charlotte and I were staying at the Pecan Grove Trailer Park on Bennett Springs Road. Fred later moved to Belton to be close to us when we lived there. We both owned bass boats and fished Lake Belton nearly every day, talking for hours about life, writing, and philosophy. He was only 54 when he died and I still miss him. I showed my family Book World and took them to Central Market, a fascinating place with a cornucopia of food, wines, cheeses, all sorts of luxuries. That afternoon, Bill and Evie, took us all to Whole Foods, not the old place we knew next to Book World, but the new one across the street, a huge structure that made the delights of Central Market pale by comparison. We browsed the aisles, ate at one of the islands in the store. That night, we all went to dinner on Lake Austin, a beautiful setting for such a family gathering. There, we met Bill's daughter Christine, her husband and three darling daughters. We feasted and took pictures, delighting in the warm feelings we all had for one another. My half-sister Inka and her husband Ned had driven over from Austin and were there that night, too. I said goodbye to all the Texas relatives since Charlotte and I were leaving the next morning to return home to Pittsburg. We didn't want to leave our 5 cats and our dog alone too long. I knew the 3 raccoons that visit me every morning would make short work of the several pounds of cat food I left in the feeders. Kay, Sunny and Vic were to leave on Thursday after lunch with our nephew, Kevin, son of my late brother, Keith, on Wednesday. They met Kevin's sister, Kerri Lynn and her husband Boots Kretzmeier in Crawford on Thursday, planning to arrive here that night. Boots and Kerri Lynn raise and train horses on their ranch near Waco. I regret that I did not get to see Kerri Lynn again, nor Kevin and meet his wife. After lunch, the little clan headed for Pittsburg, following my directions. The Magellan, which Sunny calls "Maggie" brought them right to our home. The next night, my son Marc and his wife, Michelle, arrived from Branson with our grandson, Morgan and Michelle's son Curtis. We had room for everyone. I slept in my office out back, my sisters took our bedroom, Vic stayed in my office inside the house while Marc and Michelle took the guest bedroom. We spent hours on the deck talking of family. Neither Kay, Sunny nor Vic had ever met Michelle before. On Saturday, we all went to lunch at the Pizza Inn in Pittsburg, where we meet with local writers each week. We nearly filled the private room they give us there. After lunch, Charlotte took the boys and went back home while I rode with the others to Winnsboro. Vic is an outstanding guitar player and we got in at the tail end of the jam there, thanks to owners and friends, Lynn Adler and Lindy Hearn. Vic got on stage, picked up an electric guitar and blew everyone away. Lynn and Lindy sang a couple of beautiful songs with Vic backing them up. The jam closes at 3 pm, but Vic and the others played on. Afterwards, I took the family to Oaklea Mansion to meet the owner, Norma Wilkinson and I gave them a mini-tour of the mansion and grounds. This is where I will conduct a writer's retreat in January. The family flipped out over the setting with its coy ponds, aviary full of beautiful doves and the swings and gazebos, the carriage house, lawn and lodge. They all wanted to attend the retreat. On Sunday, two friends from Texarkana came over to meet the family, Vicki Anderson, one of my students at my last workshop and a writer I've been critiquing and mentoring and her friend, Nora Higgins. They brought gifts and talked to everyone. I was buried under birthday gifts. Everyone left that afternoon and my cats emerged from hiding. Quiet descended on our place, mingled with a sweet sadness and a glow that lasted for days. I've never had a more enjoyable, nor a longer, birthday than this past one and I'm still shaking my head over the marvelous experience. So, there was a winding down afterwards. And, since, a winding up as I tackled books and stories that I critiqued, mentored a young writer, showing him what he could do with his book proposals, and work on the second novel in THE SHADOW RIDER series I'm writing for Harper Torch. And, page proofs flew in from New York on two completed novels, which Charlotte had to read and check for errors. I feel as if I've been riding a whirlwind and, of course, I'm full of life's richness. People, friends, are the real wealth of this life and I am indeed, a very rich man. This coming Sunday, Nov. 12th, I speak before a writer's group in Tyler. Will such wonders never cease? I hope not. JS