Have you ever gotten the feeling that there are just too many unwritten rules in the world today?
I was confronted with an example of just such a directive recently and walked away from it with a little bit of smirk in my mind and, possibly, in my appearance.
It was early — well, not too early — in the morning and, having filled Sam’s kitty bowl with his finicky choice of the day, I came to the realization that I hadn’t the slightest idea about what my own choice for breakfast might be.
Nothing — dry cereal, oatmeal, pancakes, waffles, eggs and bacon — appealed to me. I suspect you’ve hesitated many times, making a choice from the above list?
Then, at eye level, on a shelf above my kitchen counter, I stared at a can of Campbell’s Chunky Old Fashioned Potato Ham Chowder.
I surprised myself when the thought crossed my mind that I had the choice between saving it until lunch time or opening it right then and there. I knew from my upbringing in childhood and my eventual lives as both a married man and a bachelor that it was wrong to even consider eating the soup for breakfast or even changing such tradition.
Nonetheless, as you might have suspected by now, I opened that can, heated it and — saving half of it for another day — slowly enjoyed it as I recognized the unbelievable plethora of possibilities it presented.
I became a different man at that point.
I could have anything I wanted for breakfast and the world of critics out there could not object or bring suit against me. Leftover chili from the night before could reappear on the menu, but it would have to be made from my own family recipe. I have never found a single can of the commercial chili that was worth anything more than pouring down the toilet in comparison to homemade.
I just regretted the number of years it took to recognize this new found freedom from food propriety.
In a related thought, are there any old-timers out there who haven’t asked themselves if maybe things would be better if they had perhaps made a different choice along the way of their lifetime?
I’ve written in previous columns that I enlisted in the Army after graduation from high school to cover tuition and study acting at the University of Washington after I was discharged. Once in the Army, though, I got sidetracked by the field of radio broadcasting and made that my career.
First, I had to pass a two-year course in radio technology which, by applying myself, I finished in one.
This was important because a federal law required a qualified radio technician be on duty at all times and no smaller station wanted to hire two people when they could hire one person to do both jobs.
And it became my career through stations in Port Angeles, Tacoma, Wenatchee and the Centralia-Chehalis area until I signed off on my last episode on a program I had started, KELA’s “Let’s Talk About That,” back in 1993. Social Security then gave me enough free time to eventually concentrate on acting and directing at the Evergreen Playhouse and eventually touring the Northwest states with my Mark Twain presentation.
So, the upshot of all that meant that I wound up exactly where I wanted to be, more than a half century before, after I enlisted in the army in 1946.
Some of you know that, in my final appearance on the Evergreen Playhouse stage, I had no speaking lines whatsoever, playing the part of an old deliveryman who had just climbed five flights of stairs to deliver an arm full collection of heavy packages.
So, as I look back on everything, I find it wasn’t a bad way to end my varied entertainment career and start a new chapter. And, hopefully, the “rule breaking” will continue to enrich the days ahead?
Flexibility seems to be important in today’s crazy world.
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Bill Moeller is a former entertainer, mayor, bookstore owner, city council member, paratrooper and pilot living in Centralia. He can be reached at bookmaven321@comcast.net.
