He's Still The Same
We don't always think very much about who we are, we tend to spend more time thinking about who we want to be. Race car drivers and cowboys, the lives we wish we could lead, and we just sort of accept who we are, and what made us who we are. But sometimes, even if we are not really aware of it, there is something that makes us think about exactly that, who we are, and who made us who we are.
Brick stood leaning against the car as he waited for Jack to get done. They had gone into town for the supplies they needed, and like always his father had declared that he had had enough of Brick's restlessness. There was something about being made to wait for his father that made him very restless. Finally Jack had enough of him, asked him if he was still a five year old, and then sent him out to wait by the car.
"Hi there Brick," a voice called out and he glanced up.
"Hello Mr. Johnson," he nodded. Mr. Johnson was a man about the same age as his father who lived on the other side of town and rarely made it into civilization as he called it.
"Heard you were out in the big world," the man frowned. "Racing or something, not sure exactly what actually."
"Yep, I was," he nodded. "But I'm home now, for the time being at least."
"Always figured you for a restless one, never satisfied with things unless something was going on," Johnson gave a hearty laugh. He didn't much care for being in town, it was too crowded and too noisy. Not to mention that there were too many people like Brick there, people who were never happy when things were quiet. Jack McKenna was a man he knew and respected, and he had known his boys too. From the time when they were two small children that he might treat to a small piece of candy, until they were teenagers and Guy seemed to be turning into a responsible adult while Brick was a hellion. He wasn't just adventurous and restless, he was wild and reckless, too many ideas and not enough sense, and sometimes it had been all Johnson could do to understand how Jack could make it through the day without strangling the boy when some of the stories got back to him.
Every time he got into town it seemed he heard a different story about what the youngest McKenna boy had been up to. If he hadn't attempted the jump between the old cinema building over to the restaurant he had been involved in some kind of race. Or, he had tried to win a bet by riding Mr. Charleston's bull. There was also the old railroad bridge where the foolish kids would walk the railing as if it was a tight rope, even though a fall would certainly mean a broken neck.
Brick did it all, there was no challenge he wouldn't accept if someone suggested he was too scared to do it. There was not a person, not even Guy, who could stop him when he got an idea into his head. He wasn't a bad sort, Johnson decided. He had a strong sense of moral and he couldn't be swayed when he thought he was in the right. He had every bit as much stubborn determination as his father had, just not near enough common sense.
Now he seemed to be amused over the statement, and for some reason that didn't surprise him.
"Yeah well, someone has to stir things up around here when they get too slow," Brick told him with a sly grin.
"And that would be you," Johnson stated dryly. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me."
"The way I hear it, nothing surprises you anymore," Brick grinned. Johnson was known as something of a pessimist, he always expected the worst and whenever something had occurred he always seemed to have been waiting for it.
"The only thing that surprises me is why your father hasn't tanned your sorry hide yet," he stated, thought with something of a grin. "How is Jack by the way?"
Glancing over to the store where Jack was still busy Brick shrugged. "The same," was as much information as he wanted to give.
"Glad to hear that," Johnson nodded. "Give him my regards."
"Sure," he nodded again as Mr. Johnson left. The words 'the same' seemed to carry a lot in them for some reason, but it was true. Jack was still the same, he was the kind of man who never changed. His morals were still the same, his sense of duty. The things that made him proud and the things that angered him. The whole world might change around him, but somehow Jack never changed with it. He didn't buy into computers, he didn't see the need for too much technology, he was a simple man who wanted to lead a simple life. He wanted to make sure that there would be parts of nature unspoiled by man, and he wanted his family to have what he considered to be the best.
His idea of the best was not quite the same as Cassidy's right now, and he didn't always see eye to eye with Jack about it either. He felt at home out in the wild, could easily take a horse and a light pack and just stay out there for a week, but while Jack had left his prints on him he was not his father. He carried his ideals in his heart, but not always in his head.
It was a comfort though, to know that no matter how crazy the world seemed to go at times, no matter how fast things changed there were things still set in stone. Things that time could not really touch.
Jack McKenna was still the same, he was still the man who had shaped him during his childhood and who had moulded him into the man he was today. Different in so many ways, but still with a lot of his father in him. It really was a comfort to know that.
He's still the same, and he'll never change.
He's still the man that made me the man that I am today.
And he's still the one who brought me up in this world,
He kept me through all those things,
And no matter how old he gets his still the same.
In dedication of Brett Hill who made this song, and the man who made me the man that I am today….
Please review, the Cricket is hungry….