Who Am I

Detractors might say: "a worn-out professor type," or a "quietly aging grandfather type," or "an egotistical know-it-all type." Parts of all of those descriptive epithets are probably true. Yet none of them is truly accurate.

Because of age -- I am 65 as of this writing; I have become nearly "invisible" in this world -- no longer dating, no longer thinking of dating, doing my jobs relentlessly until the end. I am not connected to a lot of families or even friends, though I am a Rotarian, an active faculty member on the college level, an involved teacher and community person, and in no way a shrinking violet. But time has its own way of showing each of us its common sense. I am conscious of and responsive to my body, its limitations, its strengths. I have no hidden motives in my friendships or acquaintances.  I am just a guy.

As my family used to say -- "he got smarts." And I guess I do -- and I do love to learn and know new things. For most people not a flaw. For me though -- an addiction for sure. In sum -- the answer to the question of "who am I" is complex and sometimes word-elusive.  That is what a blog is for. 

No Kiss and Tell

Lots of bloggers use their postings to "kiss and tell," thereby humiliating others while showing what an "honest, caring person they themselves are." I promised myself and this blog that I would not resort to justifying my own "position" in any relation, by deriding or minimizing other people. At times I may deal with relationships -- but I will protect the identities of others (as best I can) and will not try to just make myself look good.

Since Sheila's unlucky and untimely death in 2006, I have tried to have two relationships that I thought could become "romantic" and even "permanent."  In either case it did not happen and I take a lot of the "blame"-- such as it is, for the ending of those two relationships. One of those relationships started a year after She's death and at a time I was hopelessly befuddled by grief and ready to literally end my own existence. An unexpected Christmas card, from a younger woman whom I knew 30 years ago (long before my marriage)-- with whom I had little contact but through letters, saved my life. A letter, email, and ultimately phone relationship ensued -- and then finally a rendezvous in Wilson, NC (of all places -- halfway between our separate homes). This relationship did not work out -- because we were not compatible in beliefs nor in temperament.  Sometime in the future I will detail the fantastic attempts, crises, and failures that led to the demise of this friendship. 

The second relationship was calmer, more hopeful -- but equally unsuccessful.  Here the onus of failure was all on my side, I think; presuming that there might be a relationship there, without physically testing to see if there was one. It too resulted in an embarassing failure -- and a request to "just walk away" on my part, which was apparently easily agreed to by my friend. It is poetic justice, in many ironic ways, that doomed this relationship -- and my own eagerness. It may have soured all future relationships (romantic ones, at least) in my future. 

Making the Grade in Love

Willie Nelson had a country song favorite some time ago that dealt with "all the girls I love," a concept many men consider during their lives. I have and still do love many people in my life, including many women (girls? too chauvinistic?).  Without belaboring the concept of different kinds of love: "eros,""agape,""philia,""storge," etc. let me simply say that "love" in my mind is the major concept of connection between living beings. I have been married only once -- but I have loved often. I have made love many times -- but truly loved someone else many, many fewer times than that.

Some women I have known, on whatever level, have questioned my love -- or made fun of it -- or derided it as "not enough" for them -- or even took it for something "hateful" rather than loving. That I could be that badly misunderstood is the most telling thing about those last "connections" -- it speaks volumes about incompatibility without ever having to present details. Understanding the importance of many loves in one's own life is the progressive understanding of life itself. Friendship, coital love, collegiality, compassion, living with -- all are specific kinds of "love" -- to some degree, and at some level. There are no final words on this subject -- the subject spreads and grows beyond our lifetimes.  

Happy Father's Day to My Dad, Presented Posthumously

My Dad, Ted Mrochinski, died of the complications of cancer and cancer treatment, decades ago. His cancer was liver cancer (metastasized, of course) probably brought on by his years of smoking, working with fine metal shavings as a drill press operator for Cutler-Hammer, and a premature retirement that gave him way too much wastable time on his hands. My Dad was an extremely hard-working man -- somewhat taciturn unless he was speaking loudly in our bar (Ted and Della's Tap) especially about something he had strong feelings about. He was also not a perfect man -- prone to a bit of excess on many fronts. He was a pretty good Father -- honest, helpful when he could be, and concerned with the success of his kids. He rarely raised his hand in anger -- especially towards those of us at the end of the family, last of the brood so to speak.

Ted Sr. was gregarious with his friends, simple and mostly calm towards his family, and a loving and kind man. As a child and as a young man I respected his many gifts as a carpenter, machinist, gardener, and you-name-it. I marvelled at one person possessing so many skills -- where did they all come from?  His roses were phenomenal every year -- as mine would be three decades later. I truly loved him in the
most masculine of ways:  respect, emulation, compassion, understanding. He was an easy mentor for me, even though our interests and approaches to things were mostly different. I miss him to this day.  Happy Father's Day -- Ted Mrochinski; and "thank you" for my gift of life and all that has ensued. 

Consortium Trip to Macon, GA

Last Monday I found myself driving carefully but quickly along I-16 from Savannah to Macon, to attend an English/Humanities/Speech Consortium, set-up and carefully edited by TCSG to prove its own existence.  Our agenda was "light" -- talking about courses that would never be transferable to four-year campuses; having a discussion about the differences between Speech and Communication -- where a distinction exists only in the minds of the tunnel visioned administrators of programs in technical colleges in Georgia; and generally sharing "best practices" which were at the level of "how to add your picture or cute presence to your online classes" via websites, applications, and other digital paraphernalia. It was a staff development exercise that was worth neither the time nor the effort. 

Last week I also reluctantly accepted the Chairmanship of the Dander Group (all those areas that don't fit under English or Math including: Speech, Sociology, Psychology, Economics, pre-business, History, etc.). It will be an extra burden but it will relieve some pressure from my class schedule: 7 down to 5.  But it will mean dealing with a level of administration that is more administrivia than real.   

On Friday after Tropical Storm Andrea before my Rotary Meeting with Too Little Time Anyway

Yesterday the new Dean came into my office "to talk." I thought this might be coming.
The Division is being reorganized and a new Department Chair is needed for the gaggle of subjects not covered by Math or English. Guess who is the new leader of that Gaggle Department -- yours truly. Don't know why I said yes other than the fact that it will give me something new to think about -- and the fact that the new Dean is doing her darnedest to organize and make things better around here. So there it is!

Tropical Storm Andrea 2013

The first storm of the 2013 hurricane season is actually a tropical storm -- and it is coming Georgia's way. Tropical Storm Andrea is expected to drop 5 or more inches of rain and winds upwards of 50 miles per hour on the Savannah area on Thursday and Friday of this week (June 6th and 7th).  Hopefully it won't be too bad and we can ride it out without severe damage or certainly without loss of life. But flash floods and high water can be very, very dangerous -- as I recall in 2005 when the engine on our Volvo got flooded in such a rainstorm during one of She's cancer visits to Candler Hospital's Cancer Center. That was a bad time and a bad memory.

I wish for all who are under threat: safety, calm, focus, and just a touch of thankfulness for the gifts given them.

The Women in My Life

Without trying to be a "show and tell" of my romantic life, such as it was; or an expose of my "fidelities and infidelities" let me simply say there have been many, many important women in my life. There is the woman I married -- first among all -- Ms. Mary Sheila Nassif (Mrochinski) who was my soulmate for more than 20 years. As I will say many times -- I was not the best husband I could have been, mostly because of ignorance, insensitivity, and sheer male stubbornness. The most that I can say is that I was faithful -- in a sexual and passion sense -- always. But I'm not sure if I was the kind of husband my dear wife dreamed of as a little girl. Not quite handsome enough; not quite skilled enough in multiple areas; not quite kind enough -- to be with someone as unselfish and kindly caring as she was. All I can say in my defense is -- that I tried my best.

My "surrogate daughter" is another woman in my life --- not for "romantic purposes" but because she has that same streak of kindness/hard work/joy of work/love that Sheila had. They really were a kind of mother and daughter combo -- put together by karma, and not blood. 

My younger sister is also an important woman in my life -- because we share a bond of understanding about my family "type" -- the idiosyncrasies that make a Mrochinski a Mrochinski.

There were also the many women in my life whom I dated -- mostly before the "time of Sheila" but several after as well.  My dating history is mostly serio-comic and small scale, rather than important.  Chaos ruled and still rules in my love life I fear. I don't ever expect to have a female partner in my life -- the stars would not align for me again, as they did for Sheila/Mel. "My meridien has passed" so to speak. 

My Surrogate Daughter

The titled phrase: "my surrogate daughter" refers to Ms. Tosha Fowler, a young woman I consider to be my daughter because of the the kind, compassionate, and loving person she is. When my wife Sheila became very ill with IBC back in 2004 -- Tosha, who had been my theatre student at Armstrong Atlantic State University in Savannah and our employee at The Senator's Gate Bed and Breakfast -- did a wonderful and courageous thing. She put aside her Atlanta acting career (one year at Actor's Express and a second year with The Academy Children's Theatre) and returned to Savannah to help me and my wife Sheila through Sheila's final year of life.

Tosha took up a position at our B and B (at a much higher level than before) -- helping me to earn an income while I tried to comfort Sheila through her painful and tortured attempts to control her cancer. It was a horrible and incomprehensibly difficult time. I would not have done as well as I did without Tosha; Sheila would not have lived as long as she did---without Tosha. Tosha became our daughter during that time -- a position I always somehow felt she had earned long before her actions.

I don't know if I was the best of caretakers during that time -- but Tosha was certainly the best of helpers. Tosha will always be my daughter -- and Sheila's daughter as well. She has already made both of us very, very proud.   

On the Shape of the World: Monday June 3, 2013

It is Monday June 3rd, 2013 and the shape of the world is...indifferent.  On Saturday last two uncommon Gemini women celebrated their birthdays: my mother-in-law, and my wonderful surrogate daughter.  Each of these women are a strong part of my story, the story of my bed-and-breakfast, the story of my marriage, and the story of the bulk of my life -- and will be treated later in multiple separate posts. It is enough to say that on this date, on this Monday, on this fresh start to June -- the Shape of the World is ongoing and seemingly indifferent. Things just move on -- forward, down the road, towards an ending, gaining complexity and clarity/confusion all at the same time.

There is no seeming explanation for why things "are" the way they "are." Every little piece of knowledge I gain via reading, or contact, or listening -- just adds to the incredible and mystery that is life going forward. Sometimes filled with desire, sometimes bereft of feeling at all -- life moves forward.  I miss talking to Tosha -- my surrogate daughter -- almost every day.  I don't miss talking to my mother-in-law Millie -- because she was so "inhumane" towards me and her daughter for so long.

And there it is: the one grain of new story put out there for all to read this day --  and for me to contemplate and recheck for accuracy and truth.