Ode to a Simple Man
Mama told me when I was young
Come sit beside me, my only son
And listen closely to what I say
And if you do this it’ll help you some sunny day
Oh, take your time, don’t live too fast
Troubles will come and they will pass
You’ll find a woman and you’ll find love
And don’t forget, son, there is someone up above
And be a simple kind of man
Oh, be something you love and understand
Baby be a simple kind of man
Oh, won’t you do this for me, son, if you can
Lynyrd Skynyrd
I’ve always liked the lyrics of that song. I used to have the last two lines of the chorus as my ring tone. If for no other reason than to remind me to always be a simple man. Afterall, my mom could have given me that same advice.
Most of my ancestors were blue collar – farmers, carpenters, and such. I remember once when I was headed out the door as a kid to go pick peaches, Mama hollered out, “Make ‘em a good hand!”
I always wondered what she meant by that and how far back that notion went. Was it because being a good hand was something to be most proud of or, maybe more importantly, that no one liked working a sorry hand?
Both Daddy and his daddy were both carpenters. A good hand to them was one that would hand you the tool you needed before you needed it – always anticipating and staying one step ahead. It’s a given that a sorry hand brings you the wrong tool at the wrong time.
I don’t think Daddy ever put me in his good-hand category. Whenever I’d ask him if I could help him with a project he was doing he would say, “You are.” Which I took to mean: You ARE helping me – by staying out of my way.
But getting back to being a simple man, I don’t think it means you have to be a blue-collar worker to be a good hand or a simple man. You could be like me life-long friend Charles Fuller in Dubach who, despite some teasing by his Tech baseball teammates, kept a bible verse in his back pocket and would read it before going out to pitch. Like my ring tone, it’s okay to have something that reminds you to be a simple man – helps to stay grounded in your basic beliefs.
I’ve known many simple men in my life. Two that come to mind are the late Bill James of Ruston (T.L. James and Company) and the late James Madden (Madden Contracting) of Minden.
Both men built vast corporate empires and amassed great wealth. However, if you were standing next to them – or chatting with either one of them – by the way they dressed or treated you – that they had a nickel to their name.
And both men brought up their families the same way – made them work hard for their money. I scraped paint off a dredge in New Orleans with Mr. James’ grandson, Mark James. I could never tell Mark had money either. And certainly not by the look of either of us when we got done scraping paint off that dredge on Lake Pontchartrain.
Mama grew up during the Great Depression – poor as a church mouse. She loved to say, “I’d make a great RICH person.” And she would have! Proving to me that you don’t always have to be a simple man. You can be a simple woman too.