A Thousand Marbles Revisited

There may be one benefit to being a packrat. Oh, I’m not the kind that hoards shopping carts filled with old newspapers; I’m the kind that accumulates ideas and stories. Unfortunately, I haven’t always heeded the sound advice to codify these nuggets into journals. So, I have hundreds of scraps of paper, backs of envelopes, and printed pages from the internet containing concepts—concepts that I have found worthy of capturing over the decades—scattered in desk drawers and files.

Every so often I organize this miscellany. In doing so recently, I came across a story that had spread like wildfire during the nascent days of the internet. A tale I had forgotten all about. Rereading the story, about a man and his marbles, I was touched as much that day as I was 20-some years ago.

Maybe just for this one moment in time, I’m happy to be a packrat.

Here’s the story:

“I turned the volume up into the phone portion of the band?on my ham radio to listen to a Saturday morning?swap net.?Along the way, I came across an older-sounding chap, with a tremendous signal and a golden voice.?He was telling whomever he was talking with something?about ‘a 1,000 marbles.’?

I was intrigued and stopped to listen.??

‘Well, Tom, it sure sounds like you’re busy with your job.?I’m sure they pay you well but it’s a shame you must?be away from home and your family so much. Hard to?believe a young fellow should have to work sixty or?seventy hours a week to make ends meet. Too bad?you missed your daughter’s dance recital.’?He continued, ‘let me tell you something that has helped?me keep a good perspective on my own priorities.’?

And that’s when he began to explain his theory of?‘1,000 marbles.’ ‘You see, I sat down one day and?did a little arithmetic. The average person lives about seventy-five years. I know, some live more and some?live less, but on average, folks live about seventy-five years.?

Now then, I multiplied seventy-five times fifty-two which comes to 3,900. This is the number of Saturdays that the average person?has in their entire lifetime. It took me until I was fifty-five?years old to think about all this in any detail,’ he went on, ‘and by that time I had lived over twenty-eight?hundred Saturdays. I got to thinking that if I lived to be seventy-five, I only had about 1,000 of them left?to enjoy.?

So, I went to a toy store and bought every single marble?they had. I ended up having to visit three toy stores to?round up 1,000 marbles. I took them home and put them inside of a large, clear plastic container right?here in the shack next to my gear.?

Every Saturday since then, I have taken one marble?out and thrown it away. I found that by watching the?marbles diminish, I focused more on the important?things in life. There is nothing like watching your time?here on this earth run out to help get your priorities straight.?

This morning, I took the very last marble out of the container.?I figure if I make it until next Saturday, I have been given?a little extra time. And the one thing we can all use… is a little?more time.?

It was nice to meet you, Tom, I hope you spend more time?with your family, and I hope to meet you again here on the?band. This is K9NZQ, clear and going QRT, good morning!’??

I had planned to work on the antenna that morning, and then?I was going to meet up with a few hams to work on the next?club newsletter.?Instead, I went upstairs and woke my wife?up with a kiss. ‘C’mon honey, I’m taking you and the kids?to breakfast.’??

‘What brought this on,' she asked with a smile. ‘Oh, nothing special, it’s just been a long time since we spent?a Saturday together with the kids.

Hey, can we stop at a toy store while we’re out? I need to buy some marbles.”?