Inheritance

So, it hit me today, what do I want my kids to inherit from me? What is it they'll take off into the future after they leave me?

Well, for starters, today we enjoyed every selection from the Time-Life "Baroque" collection on vinyl. It was a gift from my uncle, who recently gave us quite a few records out of his collection, mostly classical, but also mostly collections from Time Life and Reader's Digest. Last week, we listened to a Readers Digest Collection of Nat King Cole. Best part? Opening it. Yeah, it arrived unopened. I had grown up listening to the same collection that my mother owned, so it was like hearing an old friend. However, I have never opened a record before for the first time. Tapes, CD's, movies, DVD's, all that I have opened, but never before a record. And then getting to play them all for the first time, it holds a unique place in my memories that I may never do again.

So, what does that have to do with my kids inheriting? Well, it made me think of all the things that my uncle and my parents tried to pass on to me at a younger age. All the random museums my mom dragged me to growing up (every Columbus Day we went to one. Corning Museum of Glass, Planetarium, Rochester Museum and Science Center, Fort Niagara, The Genesee Country Village and Museum, The Carousel Museum in Tonawanda, etc.), not to mention every family vacation included something educational (Fort Ticonderoga, The Adirondack Museum at Blue Mountain Lake, all of DC but the Jefferson Memorial, etc.). Then there were my summers. I spent a lot of my summers with family, part in the Adirondacks, part in Livingston County. When I was with my mom's family (my Uncle Jerry and Grandma Carney), I spent most of the week doing yard work with them. You have never trimmed that many trees and bushes, cut that much grass, or hauled all you cut, believe me. But contrary to the Forrest Gump quote, I did not do that for free. I got paid. How? Well, I went to a Rodeo, a County Fair, Steam Pageants, and Air Shows, all of which my uncle paid for me to do, as long as I worked my tail off during the week. I saw and learned things no one else would think interesting. I've driven an antique tractor, sat in a P-40 (still my favorite WWII airplane), watched how we lived in bygone times and how our civilization has gotten to here. I actually listened to the same music the flyboys from WWII listened to quite often, not to mention Irish Folk Music (my poor wife went to an Irish Folk Music concert with me when we were dating. She seemed confused as to why I was singing along to 90% of the concert), any and all pop music from the 50's-70's, the list goes on and on. I knew my upbringing was different. How? Because most of the kids I went to school with helped me realize that quickly. Every kid's upbringing is different, but I don't know many kids in my class that could ID most of the major Allied heavy bombers from WWII, much less have seen all but the B-29 fly as a group (I got to go to the Geneseo Air Show with the National Warplane Museum before their rift and see 8 B-17's, 2 B-24's, and a Lancaster fly together with a couple of P-47 Thunderbolts and a gaggle of P-51 D's using a grass field as their runway. This was in the very late 80's to early 90's. Once you figure out why that's cool, we'll talk). I was excited when I heard Vera Lynn sing in person (you want to see some old Vets get dolled up and purty? Have her show up in a Rolls Royce, they all of a sudden don't need their canes anymore). I have people I have worked with as an adult who would have heard her not know who I was talking about.The crazy part about all that, secretly, I liked it. No matter what it did to my so-called social life, I liked it.

So, where am I going with all that? Well, that's part of my inheritance. I just scratched the surface on some of what my family did for me growing up. So here's the kicker: What do I do with all that for my kids? They've been apple picking, to the zoo, #1 son has been to the Dixie Deer Classic twice (that's a redneck party that's worth attending, oh hunters of North Carolina), they know what those crazy birds at the feeder are called, they have started to understand gardening, #1 Son can sing along to "Nature Boy" both with me and Nat King Cole on vinyl, #2 Son loves whatever music I put on, they know what it looks like when eggs come straight from the nest and need to be cleaned, been on a plane (I didn't do that for the first time until I was in high school), and who knows what I've missed. I have some years left, can I fill them with all of what I had given to me? Not exactly, because apparently no one in North Carolina knows how to throw a decent Warplane Airshow. However, I can start one record at a time. They have started to actually be able to tell them apart and tell me which ones they want to listen to. Will they get what I'm doing? I didn't get all of the above until a few years ago, when I realized that by dragging me through every single possible "living" history opportunity they had, my parents made me see the past in a different light. That sparked me realizing that inheritance is something you do, not just an object you leave. With any luck, my kids will like it too. They have a good start, as this past Christmas, the it seemed like the most important ornament #1 Son wanted me to put on the tree from my collection was The Lone Ranger (granted, I primed him for this with putting him to bed listening to some of the taped recordings and also sometimes listening to the one I've got on vinyl as well). No, not that weird Johnny Depp/Gore Verbinski mess. This is Clayton Moore at his Silver riding best. Tail streaming, finger pointing, blue outfit wearing, American West goodness (seriously, it needs a button to push with the recording, "Hi-ho Silver....AWAAAAAAAY!!!!). And my son was excited about it. One small step for dad, one giant step for inheritance.