A Song and A Smile

by Sean Purcell

Real Estate Renaissance Man

Author website

A week or so ago I was out for an early morning run through Balboa Park.  This is one of San Diego’s gems and part of what makes living here worth the cost.  It was daybreak and quiet; mostly the sound of my own footsteps echoing across the Spanish style buildings that house the many museums and exhibits.  Occasionally I would see another runner or a young couple up early for a walk (or maybe they were still out, ending their evening with a walk).  Mostly though, it was a wonderful run of solitude.  As I came up on the little art village I turned in to its plaza.  Here, in a few hours time, there would be artists selling paintings and sculptures and all forms of creativity.  I still don’t know why I veered in, the plaza does not go anywhere.  It is just a cul-de-sac of stone pavers lined by small, decoratively painted arts and crafts buildings used during the regular business hours of the park.

There was one other person on the street that early, unloading paintings from his van and arranging them just so.  He looked to be in his late fifties and he looked to be happy, but more than that he looked interesting.  I found myself slowing down as I made the turn to go back by him; I guess I wanted to connect somehow… there was something about this guy.  So I stopped and said hi.  We talked a bit about his paintings and we talked a bit about my run and pretty soon we were just talking.  The kind of talk that is comfortable, like you already know each other.  His name was Steve and he was almost 74 years old, yet we had a lot in common.  He had been a shot-putter and football player just as I had.  We knew the same names, although he knew them as the guys that came along after him and I knew them as the guys I tried to emulate while growing up.  Our philosophies were similar and our backgrounds too.  It was a rewarding conversation and could have ended at any time with a great deal of satisfaction.  But it didn’t.  It got better.

At one point we were comparing big scars and even bigger tales.  Steve had grown up tough in a tough neighborhood.  I asked him if he had ever imagined back then that he would be an artist today.  He answered yes without a moment’s delay.  He knew back then he was going to be an artist and he never wavered.  It was the one area of his life where he had gone against his mother’s wishes.  But that was OK Steve said, because he had his father’s blessing – and this is where the story gets most interesting.

His father was not home much and when he was, he was drunk.  His father was an alcoholic, spending time in and out of asylums.  One spring morning, when Steve was in the tenth grade, his father called him into the living room.  Steve told me how excited he was because after school that day he was going to pitch for the first time in his life.  He thought maybe his dad wanted to give him some baseball advice.  He didn’t.  But he did share with Steve two things that would change his life forever.  First, he told Steve to always respect and obey his mother… except when it came to this goal of becoming an artist.  Steve’s mom wanted him to go to college, then maybe med school or law school after that.  But his father, who had always wanted to be an artist himself but never had the chance, told Steve that in this one area, it was OK to disobey his mother.  “Go be an artist and don’t ever let anyone talk you down.”  Steve told me the memory of that conversation was etched in his mind like few things are.  Why such an indelible image?  His pitching debut later that day was a disaster.  He went home to tell his father, but arrived to find his father had passed.  His last gifts to his son were permission to follow his dream… and a nursery rhyme.

Steve told me that his father sat him down that morning after giving him permission to be who he was and said: “I’m going to give you a secret now.  It is the most important song you will ever hear and it will help you as you go through life.”  Then his father sang and explained all at the same time:

Row, row, row your boat – “This means work for what you want and be persistent.”

Gently down the stream – “Don’t fight the flow.  Allow life to unfold.”

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily – “You are on God’s green earth to enjoy life.  Laugh often.”

Life is but a dream – “Steve” his father said, “you won’t understand this part for a while.  But your life is a dream… it’s your dream.”

I shook Steve’s hand after that and went back to my run.  Could not stop singing that song all the way home.  Could not stop smiling either.  The simplest ideas often have the greatest impact:  a child’s nursery rhyme.  Try it out next time life throws you a lemon and you can’t find your lemonade stand.  Sing it to yourself and see if you don’t smile a little too.