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In my youth I dreamed of being “Faster than a speeding bullet! More powerful than a mighty locomotive! Able to leap tall buildings at a single bound!” But, as truth would have it, I was not. I was, however, ready to be quicker to the table than my brothers, able to stack one hay wagon after another, and capable of jumping off the trunk bed and right back up again.

Those ordinary feats of youth now seem pretty extraordinary. No longer do I imagine racing and stacking and jumping all day long and then getting up the next day to do it again and again and again. The days of believing I can do most anything have been replaced by a desire to wake up ready to try to do what needs to be done.

Larry the Cable Guy said it best: “Get ‘er done.” Within reason that’s the lifestyle I want to embrace. No excuses. No self-pity. Just the will to apply some elbow grease, intellect, and persistence to the task at hand. So, each morning I shake the aspirin bottle in case pain relief is needed and check my ready gauge. If the slacker within shows up, Julie brings out the attitude-adjustment boot, and off I’ll go.

I suppose people have always debated readiness. Is Johnny really going to apply for college? Are those two old enough to get married? Is Sally Jo strong enough to saddle Nellie? Are you sure the watermelons are ready to pick? - Whoa, Nellie! Watermelon hit a reflective nerve.

One of my first sixty-hours-a-week jobs involved watermelons and a fruit stand. In late May Bud Jines planted seeds, and by the 4th of July we were picking. The melon harvest kept us busy through September. That schedule was perfect for a kid’s summer job, and twenty-five cents in hour made me rich. Young ladies definitely saw my Sugar-Daddy potential.

Now those melons, like the vegetables Bud sold, had a ready factor. Sure we picked ‘em, but were they ready to eat? If a customer intended to invest fifty cents to a dollar, they had to know. Inquiring minds always wanted to know, but melon people were fanatical about it. Each had a time-honored, sure-fire readiness test that had been passed down from generation to generation.

Some tried sniffing, and I’d tell myself, “That only works for ripe cantaloupes and stink bugs.” Others just picked up a watermelon and balanced it for a moment as if their hands could feel the redness within. The pluggers came armed with Barlows. I suppose there were other tactics, but two seemed genetically ingrained in all Hoosiers.

Most simply rolled the melon over and looked for the yellow area that had rested on soil and then checked for the proper number of pepper spots. It was an unshared, secret number that only they knew. It was sacred knowledge.

Yet, no one entertained me more than the melon whacker who leaned over and pressed an ear near the rind. Some of those auditory wonders tapped on the melon surface like they were knocking on a front door, but the best of the best thumped soundly with a single finger. A middle finger flipped off the thumb and beat the outer shell harshly. Some once. Some two times or more. My hearing was not good enough to hear what they heard, but my eyesight always validated that the thumpers were the most fun to watch.

Wouldn’t it be interesting if someone wanted to test our readiness for the moments ahead with similar strategies. A bold soul might propose, “Larry, will you roll over so I can see the spots on your bottom?” Or, an intrusive buyer might get an ear really close and then thump right above my belly button. If anyone pulled out a pocketknife, I’d let ‘em pepper hunt and thump all they wanted. Anything is better than gettin’ plugged when you’re not ready.

Both approaches would irritate us, wouldn’t they? Having anyone question our abilities and being constantly asked if we were really ready to “get ‘er done” would worry me. What had they noticed I was doing so poorly? What weakness had they spotted?

The world isn’t black and white … or red, white and green with black seeds. It not so much about always winning or always losing as it is about always trying. We do what we can and somedays may not finish what we started. It’s a gray world with no assurance that any of us will “Get er done” today and then be as successful again in the tomorrows that follow. But heaven help us if we lose the desire to try.

For times ahead when self-doubt could creep right in, I’m currently negotiating a readiness partnership. I plan to close my eyes and picture myself as a watermelon. Maybe a stripped one or an ice box variety. Round or long won’t matter though I’d prefer to be a little leaner. Some days I might wear dark green. Some days light green or striped colors. As is my nature, I’ll always see myself as sweet as a Crimson Red.

And, when I’ve truly centered in on that vision, I’m going to pray for the Big Guy in the Melon Patch Above to lean down and check me out. The conversation will begin, “Thump me, Jesus. Am I ready today?”

And, if an almighty, finger flick on the head hurts a little more than expected, I’ll shake that aspirin bottle again and let the rattle tell me if I can reach for one or two before I get to work.