The Unmuddled Mathematician

Genuine Good Stuff

By Chris Stone Coray, The Unmuddled Mathematician

A boy’s journey through life allows the acquisition of a bunch of genuinely good stuff.  The wampum.  The bag of possibles.  The special things that change with each year or during long evolution from youth to very senior person who gets discounts at almost all stores.  As one ages the good stuff changes from things to experiences and memories. Everybody is different in specifics but likely very much similar overall.  Here is a list of my special stuff.

Age 5-10:  Mickey Mantle baseball glove, kid size genuine Louisville Slugger bat, the glove never put away without a pretty good Spaulding baseball in it; marbles, by which I mean the flints, the shooters, not the cheap glass marbles that were used only as currency in the games.  These cost a couple of bucks apiece and when the impact moons became too visible a night of storing them in mom’s Crisco can provided a few days of artificial absence of blemish; a Zebco spinning reel with 5 foot rod; a NY Yankee baseball cap; Willie Mays autograph; a Whamo slingshot with a supply of “steelies”  for it.

Age 12-16:  First shotgun, a double barrel .410 with which I bagged my first duck and pheasant; Schwinn 3 speed racer which was a pretty big deal in bikes in that era; a Buck folding pocket knife; the wooden box that I used to carry shotgun shells (old ones, cardboard, with smells that still trigger memories); hot chocolate, and the “Dekes” I used as duck decoys; my Herter’s goose call; and at age 16 a Browning over and under shotgun that was (and still is) guaranteed for life;  a little gold medal for being the best math student at school.

Age 17-25:  A small set of goose and duck bands from my hunting days; paratrooper wings fairly earned; the gold bar of a new second lieutenant, the silver bar of a first lieutenant, and the railroad tracks of a US Army captain; a wedding ring that will see its 50^th year on my hand this year; and a complete change in life from stuff for me to own to events, experiences, and memories of my wife and kids.  I must note that the catching of the woman who wears the other wedding ring in the 50 year old set of two was really, really hard.  There were lots of high hurdles on that quest.

Age 26-50:  The birth of our two girls; having our first daughter run to our apartment door in excitement as I came home from graduate school with a popsicle that we split down the middle, then later having her fall asleep lying on my stomach; running behind the girls as they learned how to ride a bike; spending uncounted hours in the bleachers watching our youngest play high school basketball while never understanding girls; owning and riding a motorcycle until it was determined by the boss to be too dangerous; planting our own first garden at our own first house (this was pretty dumb as I grew potatoes in Idaho); owning, training, loving, and hunting with dogs; Japanese eating utensils (chopsticks and bento boxes obtained during a sabbatical year in Tokyo); attending the graduations and weddings of our two daughters.

Age 50-present:  Meeting our 3 granddaughters as they entered the world; watching the eldest on her figure skates in competitive  events, the middle as she danced  (and dances) in ballet with grace and beauty; the youngest, flame red hair atop her head, pretty much taking over a soccer game and causing terror in the opposing team; having these 3 girls spend time with us at our house near Bear Lake, playing with the golf cart, the boat, their own special room, and pancakes made by me in the shape chosen by each girl; getting a healthy wife back to full speed after a serious illness; surprising my dad on his 80^th birthday by arriving with Bobbie at his house in California unannounced; listening to the youngest say, “Oh, it smells like grandma”, as she entered our house.

This good stuff continues in unexpected and delightful ways.   These need not be big things.  3 days ago my phone rang and it was a call from a granddaughter.  The phone only rang once.  I called back and asked her if her phone had accidentally called me and she said that it had and she was sorry.  But I had been given the chance to hear her voice and told her that, even if an accident, it was the best thing that would happen to me that day.  Her response, “Oh, Grandpa, thank you for telling me”, was even better than just hearing her speak.  A divine gift to a lucky man.  The good stuff.