Tonight, my Daddy told me a story about my great-grandfather.  He was the father of my father's father.  People knew him as Tuff.  He's Big Daddy to us.  He and Big Mama lived in rural East Texas.  They lived their lives in a relatively small geographic space.  They bathed in the creek that ran through the woods behind the house.  They went to town about once a week to do whatever had to be done there, and that was about it. In this particular story, Big Daddy was mowing one day when a tire went flat.  Here he employed a skill that has largely become lost on men in our culture, namely ingenuity.  He assessed the situation and went over to the firewood pile.  He selected a log of the right shape and diameter, and cut a section off of the end of it, a few inches thick.  He proceeded to drill a hole through the center and mounted it onto the axle of the mower.  Having put out that "far" (I was born too late to meet him, but I'm sure that's how he would have said "fire"), he saddled up and finished mowing the yard, no big deal.

I've heard it said more than once that we have become a "throw-away" society.  As a teacher, I have a firsthand view of the truth of that statement every day.  However, on occasion I also see flashes of ingenuity from time to time in one of those young men.  Gentlemen, ingenuity is one of the characteristics that America has always been known for.  As long as we live, we have to keep it that way.  I have never been mechanically inclined, but I'm working hard to change that.  It's good for a man to be able to handle whatever might come up.  We won't necessarily know what to do or how to do it, but isn't that what figuring it out is all about?  I remember watching Home Improvement back in the 90's.  One reason the show was so successful was that Tim endeared himself to every man, because he embodied ingenuity.  Sure, he usually got hurt along the way and upset his wife, but he always got the job done.  I remember my first major household appliance repair.  I didn't know what I was doing, but I figured it out.  And, I reassembled the dryer and came out with three extra screws.  I called my Daddy and told him about it, and his response was that "that happens".  It was a priceless feeling and an irreplaceable memory.  And, that's how it's supposed to be.