Patch McGillicutty

I know I said I would suddenly do tons of posts and catch up.  Sometimes I say things I don't mean.  Maybe I still will.  This summer kicked my butt.  Maybe I'll post about that sometime.  Maybe not.

Here's something else, though.  I was asked to play the organ for a funeral the other day.  The guy that died was an old guy in my ward.  I recognized his name, but couldn't picture what he looked like.  When I asked for a description I was told that he wore an eyepatch.  It seems like I'd notice someone wearing an eyepatch at church, but this did not help me.  Come to think of it, I don't really know any of the old men in my ward.  Maybe because I'm in the Young Women?  Not part of my demo.

I showed up 20 minutes early to play prelude, which is pretty amazing for me.  I thought I'd have plenty of time to figure out the organ (it's been awhile), but lots of people were already there, so I went into panic-mode and just settled on some weird pre-set stops that weren't overly loud.  This story isn't about my failure as an organist (but I definitely have one of those to share at another time.....). I bring this up because in my panic, I forgot to get a program, which would have been hugely helpful in knowing when I was supposed to play, but also because I wanted to see a picture of the guy everyone was talking about.

Everyone loved this guy, seems like.  His son and daughters spoke, and several of his grandchildren.  They were sweet.  They all reiterated certain themes about this man's characteristics.  He was a perfectionist.  His garage was so clean you could have a picnic on the floor.  His motto was, "If you take care of your things, they will take care of you."  His fridge was 55 years old and still running.  His carpet was 30 years old and still in great shape.  His cars never broke down.  He was adamant about being on time, and actually if you were "on time" instead of early, you were late.  He was up at the crack of dawn everyday and he worked all day long.  He never sat down.  Even at the end of his life when he was not very lucid, no one could make him sit down.  He loved to work.

As I sat there listening, I was thinking, "It's like I have a twin!"  Actually, I was wondering what my funeral would sound like on those same topics.  "She was always late, and I'm talking ALWAYS.  If she was ever on time, it was purely accidental."  "You could have a picnic on the floor of her garage, if you didn't mind sitting on a whole lot of crap."  "She was the absolute best at sitting!   She could watch TV for hours uninterrupted."  So maybe his talents are not my strong suits.  We all have different things we're good at, right?  Actually, a couple kids/grandkids mentioned how he threatened them with his belt.  I can proudly say that I have never done that.  (I rarely wear belts.)  Take that, perfect old guy!

"She was weirdly competitive with old men that have died."

I went home and found a picture of him online.  Still didn't recognize him.  Covered one of his eyes and.........nope, still nothing.  But I want to thank that guy for magnifying my faults and making me sad.  I mean, helping me recognize some ways I can improve myself!  Yay!

Midlife crisis begins now.  :)  :)  :)  :/