Essays~ The Little Old Man Stuck in My Head (aka: Joni's Fault)
by John S. Sommer
In the early days, my wife and I were listening to the local San Francisco radio station play Joni Mitchell’s “Big Yellow Taxi”. I had heard it many times before, so as I approached the radio to change the station, the familiar refrain was sung: “don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone…”. I was horrified. Is it true? Do we have all these incredible experiences only to later regret not recognizing the wonderful moment? Oh, no ….
This point has been addressed before. Carpé diem, Latin for “seize the day” advises that we should be attentive to the amazing experiences we have. Still, when we are young, we don’t realize that much of what we see and do are gone before we know it.
The Birth of the Old Man
Then came the little old man in my head. My daughter was four and definitely a strain on the back to pick up. As she held up her arms begging for a lift, I was less than enthusiastic. Here, I was introduced to The Old Man. It was me, very elderly, residing in my head, chastising me (in a little old man voice): “What was wrong with you? You had a few short years to hold this magnificent child in your arms, and you didn’t? Look at her now—she’s seventeen with her nails all done up and waving goodbye to you as she leaves on a date. You can’t pick her up anymore. Why didn’t you when you had the chance?” I was almost in tears as I quickly swept her up in my arms.
Experience after experience, the little old man would speak to me: “You know son, your parents left this earth long before you did. What do you wish you would have asked them? What do you wish you would have said to them?”
“Your darlin’ was tearful about a co-worker being mean to her. You didn’t have many opportunities to be her hero. You ought’a give that mean gal a call and help to set some limits for her. You shoulda’ protected your gal.”
“This teenager you’re working with… I know you need to get to know them better before you take a stand about improper behavior, but you know, she never came back in, and you would be the only one to provide her that guidance.”
“That teacher of yours changed everything. Because of his support and guidance, you got into college, met the girl of your dreams, had three magnificent children—all because of him. Now he’s gone and you never told him”.
Thank God these admonishments have happened at the time of the potential mistake. The little old man has kept me from being an angry and bitter person full of regrets. He’s helped me to see the great opportunities as they appear, rather than after they were gone.
“Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone…” is only Joni Mitchell’s song, not mine.
© 2015 John Sommer
In the early days, my wife and I were listening to the local San Francisco radio station play Joni Mitchell’s “Big Yellow Taxi”. I had heard it many times before, so as I approached the radio to change the station, the familiar refrain was sung: “don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone…”. I was horrified. Is it true? Do we have all these incredible experiences only to later regret not recognizing the wonderful moment? Oh, no ….
This point has been addressed before. Carpé diem, Latin for “seize the day” advises that we should be attentive to the amazing experiences we have. Still, when we are young, we don’t realize that much of what we see and do are gone before we know it.
The Birth of the Old Man
Then came the little old man in my head. My daughter was four and definitely a strain on the back to pick up. As she held up her arms begging for a lift, I was less than enthusiastic. Here, I was introduced to The Old Man. It was me, very elderly, residing in my head, chastising me (in a little old man voice): “What was wrong with you? You had a few short years to hold this magnificent child in your arms, and you didn’t? Look at her now—she’s seventeen with her nails all done up and waving goodbye to you as she leaves on a date. You can’t pick her up anymore. Why didn’t you when you had the chance?” I was almost in tears as I quickly swept her up in my arms.
Experience after experience, the little old man would speak to me: “You know son, your parents left this earth long before you did. What do you wish you would have asked them? What do you wish you would have said to them?”
“Your darlin’ was tearful about a co-worker being mean to her. You didn’t have many opportunities to be her hero. You ought’a give that mean gal a call and help to set some limits for her. You shoulda’ protected your gal.”
“This teenager you’re working with… I know you need to get to know them better before you take a stand about improper behavior, but you know, she never came back in, and you would be the only one to provide her that guidance.”
“That teacher of yours changed everything. Because of his support and guidance, you got into college, met the girl of your dreams, had three magnificent children—all because of him. Now he’s gone and you never told him”.
Thank God these admonishments have happened at the time of the potential mistake. The little old man has kept me from being an angry and bitter person full of regrets. He’s helped me to see the great opportunities as they appear, rather than after they were gone.
“Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone…” is only Joni Mitchell’s song, not mine.
© 2015 John Sommer
All persons and situations reflected in these writings are pretty much fictional, based on generalizations over the course of many years of counseling. Any actual events or settings have been changed, including names and other details, to protect client confidentiality.