Archive for the ‘friends’ Tag
It’s another cold and gray October day here in Maine. It was a frigid night and this morning everything was covered with a heavy frost. Since my better-half refuses to turn on the heat until later in the month I found it necessary last night to jack up my electric blanket to level six. It keeps the bed nice and toasty but I also seem to wake up every few hours when I feel my face beginning to freeze. I knew it was really cold in the house when the cat crawled into bed with me at 4 am and refused to leave. Now that I’m fully awake and have had my first cup of coffee it’s time to mention a variety of items which could possibly bore you to tears.
Yesterday we attended the second birthday party for the better-half’s grandson. It was a festive occasion for the family and friends who attended and we were surrounded by a gaggle of children who really were enjoying themselves. There were games for the kids, gift bags, and a pumpkin decorating session that was hilarious. It was a great day for all of the kids and even for some of the adults. I took over a hundred pictures that will need to be reviewed later today and that should keep me busy for a while. I’ll only post this one which shows the aftermath. The bigger the mess the better the party, right?
After saying our goodbyes to the birthday boy we left the party and decided to take a short drive through the woods to find some decent fall foliage photos. The entire morning had been cloudy and gray but as we pulled out of the driveway the sun came shining through the clouds. I’ll always wonder whether it would have gotten cloudy and gray once again if we’d have returned to the party. I hate coincidents like that. Here are a few of the photo’s from our ride.
This is a rare picture of the seldom seen “Red Breasted Maine Moron”. That’s anyone who water skis in Maine in October.
Now that Fall has officially arrived most of our outdoor activities will be curtailed through the Winter months. I’ve been posting journal entries for some months now documenting our Summer activities and it’s been a lot of fun. Since I’m not a person who enjoys frolicking in the snow my future journal entries may be limited. No snowmobiling, no ice skating, no skiing, no bobsledding, no hunting, and no ice fishing pictures. I think it’s time to return this blog to discussions of politics and politicians, trivia of all kinds, and the continuing criticisms of all things Hollywood. The celebrities have gotten a Summer pass from me and I feel the need to lash out at them once again.
I’m also in the process of setting up a Twitter page for this blog and will begin publicizing my postings there as well. I may even consider returning to Facebook sometime soon. I feel completely reenergized after a great Summer and I’m ready for the mid-year elections and all that that entails.
Since I’ll be taking a few days off from blogging to enjoy the family Christmas doings I thought something important needed to be discussed. Being a former soldier, the holidays have much more meaning than just just gifts, Christmas trees, and family traditions. I’m all too familiar with that lonely feeling when you’re away from home on Christmas for the first time and the dull ache it leaves in your chest. There’s regular homesickness of course but being separated from your family, friends and comfortable surroundings on Christmas is a different kind of “hurt”. I always think of our service people spread around the globe and I remember them everyday but even more so at this time of the year. Here is a heartfelt poem from an unknown serviceman I received some years ago from a friend. It struck home with me then and it still does to this day. It may have been a different war or different time but the feelings expressed remain the same. Enjoy this and think of them tonight and never forget . . . .
Soldier On Watch
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
my daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep
in perfect contentment, or so it would seem.
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn’t loud, and it wasn’t too near,
But I opened my eye when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn’t quite know,
Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
and I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old
perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
“What are you doing?” I asked without fear
“Come in here this moment, it’s freezing out there!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your arm,
you should be at home, this cold could do harm!”
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts,
to the window that danced with a warm fire’s light
then he sighed and he said “Its really all right,
I’m out here by choice. I’m here every night”
“Its my duty to stand at the front of the line,
that separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I’m proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at ‘Pearl on a day in December,”
then he sighed, “That’s a Christmas ‘Gram always remembers.”
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ‘Nam
and now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I ‘ve not seen my own son in more than a while,
but my wife sends me pictures, he’s sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
the red white and blue… the American flag.
“I can live through the cold and the being alone,
away from my family, my house and my home,
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat,
I can carry the weight of killing another
or lay down my life with my sisters and brothers
who stand at the front against any and all,
to insure for all time that this flag will not fall.”
“So go back inside,” he said, “harbor no fright
Your family is waiting and I’ll be all right.”
“But isn’t there something I can do, at the least,
Give you money,” I asked, “or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you’ve done,
For being away from your wife and your son.”
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
“Just tell us you love us, and never forget
to fight for our rights back at home while we’re gone.
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
to know you remember we fought and we bled
is payment enough, and with that we will trust.
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.
ONE SHOPPING DAY LEFT
HAVE A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS WITH YOUR FAMILY AND FRIENDS
EVERYUSELESSTHING WILL BE BACK ON 12/26/2013
According to Socrates “an unexamined life is not worth living”. I agree with that to a point because there are times when looking back has truly restorative value. It clears the mind by allowing us to revisit simpler and sometimes happier times. The post that follows is me looking back and remembering how different things were not so long ago. I’m not saying they were always better but in some cases they definitely were. Read on and enjoy a short but detailed visit to my early childhood.
Way back…
I’m talking about hide and seek at dusk, sitting on the porch. Hot bread and butter, eating’ a super-dooper sandwich (Dagwood), Red light, Green light, 1 2 3.
Chocolate milk, lunch tickets, penny candy in a brown paper bag. Hopscotch, butterscotch, Double-Dutch, jacks, kickball, and dodge ball. Mother, May I? Hula Hoops, Sunflower Seeds, jawbreakers, blow pops, Mary Janes, and running through the sprinklers. The smell of the sun and licking salty lips.
Wait……
Watching lightening bugs in a jar, playing slingshot and Red Rover. When around the corner seemed far away, and going downtown seemed like going somewhere.
Bedtime, Climbing trees. A million mosquito bites and sticky fingers. Cops and Robbers, Cowboys and Indians, sitting on the curb, jumping down the steps, jumping on the bed, and pillow fights.
Being tickled to death, running till you were out of breath. Laughing so hard that your stomach hurt. Being tired from playing …. Remember that?
I’m not finished just yet…
What about the girl that had the big bubbly hand writing? Licking the beaters when your mother made a cake. When there were two types of sneakers for girls and boys (Keds & PF Flyers), and the only time you wore them at school, was for “gym.”
When nobody owned a purebred dog. When a quarter was a decent allowance, and another quarter a huge bonus. When you’d reach into a muddy gutter for a penny. When girls neither dated nor kissed until late high school, if then. When your mom wore nylons that came in two pieces.
When you got your windshield cleaned, oil checked, and gas pumped, without asking, for free. And you didn’t pay for air, and, you got trading stamps to boot! When laundry detergent had free glasses, dishes or towels hidden inside the box.
When any parent could discipline any kid, or feed him or use him to carry groceries, and nobody, not even the kid, thought a thing of it. When it was considered a great privilege to be taken out to dinner at a real restaurant with your parents.
Not done yet . . .
When all of your male teachers wore neckties and female teachers had their hair done, everyday. When they threatened to keep kids back a grade if they failed…and did! When being sent to the principal’s office was nothing compared to the fate that awaited a misbehaving student at home. Having a weapon in school, meant being caught with a slingshot. When nearly everyone’s mom was at home when the kids got there.
Basically, we were in fear for our lives but it wasn’t because of drive-by shootings, drugs, gangs, etc. Disapproval of our parents and grandparents was a much bigger threat!
Decisions were made by going “eeny-meeny-miney-mo.” Mistakes were corrected by simply exclaiming, “do over!” “Race issue” meant arguing about who ran the fastest. Money issues were handled by whoever was the banker in “Monopoly.”
Catching fireflies could happily occupy an entire evening. It wasn’t odd to have two or three “best” friends. Being old, referred to anyone over 20. The net on a tennis court was the perfect height to play volleyball and rules didn’t matter. It was unbelievable that dodge ball wasn’t an Olympic event.
The worst thing you could catch from the opposite sex was cooties. It was magic when dad would “remove” his thumb. Scrapes and bruises were kissed and made better.
Nobody was prettier than Mom.
IT’S NICE TO OCCASIONALLY LOOK BACK
It’s just turning 6 am on Thanksgiving morning. It’s a windy and chilly day as it seems to be every year on Thanksgiving and I love it. This just happens to be the one holiday that means more to me than any of the others. Many holidays are religious and since I’m not a religious person they mean very little to me. My best memories of my family are those from the many Thanksgivings we spent together. There is no anticipation of gifts and the many negatives associated with that mind set. It’s just a peaceful family gathering to share a meal and to be thankful for the good things in our lives.
I’m lying in bed with my better-half who’s sawing some serious logs next to me. My cat just jumped up on the bed to demand his Thanksgiving breakfast, and the coffee pot just came alive and is beeping to let me know it’s time to get up. This morning is going to be just about me and that big, fat, twenty pound bird awaiting me in the kitchen. I began thawing him out two days ago and yesterday I began some of the prep work for his debut today. Tradition means so much to me and I love preparing the bird.
As a youngster I spent all of my Thanksgivings with my immediate family at my grandmother’s home. She was an old school cook whose Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners were the things of legend, just incredible. She was responsible for my undying love of cranberry sauce (the jelly kind) and the stuffing and gravy she was famous for. I begged her for years for her gravy recipe but she’d just smile and say “maybe when your a little older”. She went to her grave with the secret and I’ve spent years still trying to get it just right. Man do I miss her at this time of the year.
As a young man I married and moved away from my home area in Pittsburgh to Massachusetts and lived twenty minutes from Plymouth Plantation. I visited Plymouth every year and attended as many of the local celebrations as possible. I ate Thanksgiving dinner at the Plantation, was on and off the Mayflower many times, and really developed a love for the area. We even visited many of the Wampanoag Indian ceremonies that we were introduced to us by a friend who was a member of the tribe. It was a terrific tradition we’d developed but as in all things change was inevitable.
Divorce required me to find a new residence. I bought a small cottage near the ocean in Kingston, Massachusetts only 5 minutes from downtown Plymouth. I lived there for three years and submerged myself in the history of the Pilgrims, the Indians, and everything Thanksgiving. Again changes had to be made when my company bankrupted and I moved to Maine. For the next seven years I celebrated a rather lonely Thanksgiving tradition. I returned home to Pittsburgh once or twice during that time but for the most part it was just me, my cat and two ferrets. I maintained my own tradition with a large turkey breast, stuffing and all the trimmings and made the most of my crappy situation. The memories of all my past Thanksgiving’s helped tremendously but once again change was in the air. It arrived unexpectedly in the person of my better-half.
After a few years of adjusting to one another we’ve finally settled into a rather happy life and the holiday traditions had to change once more. We both maintain certain of our own family Thanksgiving traditions and are now creating a few of our own. This year we’re welcoming our new grandson to the table for the very first time. He was just a pooping and crying ball of flesh last Thanksgiving but now he’s grown into a walking and almost talking little person about to be officially seated at the holiday table. I hope in the years to come the memories of his grandmother will mean as much to him as mine do to me.
I also hope that your Thanksgiving will be even better than what you expected. The best thing about traditions is their flexibility. No matter how much change we’re forced to deal with, both good and bad, the traditions carry on regardless. The thoughts of years past and loved ones who are no longer with us are the real traditions and they can never be taken away.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING
I’m not much of a sports fan and watching sports on TV has no attraction to me whatsoever. I’ve always had better ways of spending my time than watching almost anything sport related except for possibly one thing. I will occasionally watch professional golf. Over the years I played a lot of golf with my father. He introduced me to it at age 13 and I played regularly for more than twenty five years with him, his coworkers, and my friends.
This week was the Presidents Cup Tournament and I didn’t watch the entire match but did waste away a few hours vegging in front of the TV. It took me back to the days when my Dad was still able to play and the fun we had competing against each other. It was a nice trip down memory lane for me. As I was watching I began to remember caddying for him in a number of golf tournaments sponsored by his employer and the many pranks I pulled on him while doing so. With that in mind I did a little searching and found the following stupid caddy remarks which will make any golfer smile.
* * *
#10
Golfer: "I think I’m going to drown myself in the lake."
Caddy: "Think you can keep your head down that long?"
#09
Golfer: "I’d move heaven and earth to break 100 on this course."
Caddy: "Try heaven, you’ve already moved most of the earth."
#08
Golfer: "Do you think my game is improving?"
Caddy: "Yes . . . . You miss the ball much closer now."
#07
Golfer: "Do you think I can get there with a 5 iron?"
Caddy: "Eventually."
#06
Golfer: "You’ve got to be the worst caddy in the world."
Caddy: "I don’t think so . . . .That would be too much of a coincidence."
#05
Golfer: "Please stop checking your watch all the time. It’s too much of a distraction."
Caddy: "It’s not a watch – it’s a compass."
#04
Golfer: "How do you like my game?"
Caddy: "It’s very good – but personally, I prefer golf.
#03
Golfer: "Do you think it’s a sin to play on Sunday?
Caddy: "The way you play, it’s a sin on any day."
#02
Golfer: "This is the worst course I’ve ever played on."
Caddy: "This isn’t the golf course . . . . We left that an hour ago."
AND FINALLY #01
Golfer: "That can’t be my ball, it’s too old."
Caddy: "It’s been a long time since we teed off, sir."
* * *
Most people think golf is such a very serious pass-time but that couldn’t be further from the truth. With my Dad and other co-workers it was hilarious at times. I’ll offer this one story and then call this posting finished.
My father was a big, strong, and determined individual. He was known for his long and accurate drives and could get frustrated when he was having a bad day. On one particular occasion he walked to the tee on one of his favorite holes, teed up, and hit the ball so far in the woods it couldn’t be found. Up until that time it had been a close round but with that shot he lost the match. He proceeded to take his driver, twirled it around his head, and threw it as far as he could into the trees. He then walked off cursing and swearing and never looked back.
For months afterward as we all played golf on that same course we laughed our asses off every time we came to that hole because his bent and twisted driver could be seen in the top of a nearby tree. It was just so damn funny. The best part of the prank occurred more than a year later at his retirement dinner when his buddies climbed up that tree, retrieved the club, had it bronzed and mounted on a plaque, and gave it back to him as his retirement gift.
How can you not like golf with good friends like that.
How many times a week are you told by others that your way of doing things could be better, meaning their way. It’s amazing to me how everyone thinks their way is the absolute best way. I can understand it totally because at times I feel that way myself.
I’ve had close friends and family with no practical experience in much of anything tell me how I should invest my money, romance a woman, what food to eat, and what kind of job I should have. Everyone is an effing expert in everything it seems. It’s funny that the guy with no girlfriends or prospects is the expert on romance. The guy who doesn’t have two cents in his pocket or bank account is the one telling me what stocks are going to go through the roof. Maybe it’s the woman with no children who spends all of her time telling her married girlfriends how to raise their children. It’s maddening.
To quote one of my favorite song lyrics, “Opinions are like assholes and everybody’s got one.” I’ve learned over the years who I can rely on for good information and those hundreds who haven’t had a good idea about anything in recent memory. I’ve also learned not to voice any of my own opinions unless I’m asked. I may stand in a group of friends and listen to them tell each other how to live their lives without saying a single word. It makes me the guy who never has to hear those dreaded words, “Your advice sucked.”
I suppose it’s always been that way. People telling people what will happen in the future, how they should live their lives and they do it in such a way it’s seemed logical at the time. Here are some predictions I’ve discovered from so-called experts that were so bad I just had to pass them along.
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"Computers in the future may weigh no more than 1.5 tons." Popular Mechanics, forecasting the relentless march of science, 1949
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"I think there is a world market for maybe five computers."
Thomas Watson, chairman of IBM, 1943
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"I have traveled the length and breadth of this country and talked with the best people, and I can assure you that data processing is a fad that won’t last out the year."
The editor in charge of business books for Prentice Hall, 1957
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"There is no reason anyone would want a computer in their home."
Ken Olson, president, chairman and founder of Digital Equipment Corp., 1977
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"This ‘telephone’ has too many shortcomings to be seriously considered as a means of communication. The device is inherently of no value to us."
Western Union internal memo, 1876.
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"We don’t like their sound, and guitar music is on the way out."
Decca Recording Co. rejecting the Beatles, 1962.
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"Heavier-than-air flying machines are impossible."
Lord Kelvin, president, Royal Society, 1895.
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"Drill for oil? You mean drill into the ground to try and find oil? You’re crazy."
Drillers who Edwin L. Drake tried to enlist to his project to drill for oil in 1859.
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"The bomb will never go off. I speak as an expert in explosives."
Admiral William Leahy, US Atomic Bomb Project.
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"Stocks have reached what looks like a permanently high plateau."
Irving Fisher, Professor of Economics, Yale University, 1929.
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"Airplanes are interesting toys but of no military value."
Marechal Ferdinand Foch, Professor of Strategy, Ecole Superieure de Guerre.
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"Man will never reach the moon regardless of all future scientific advances."
Dr. Lee De Forest, inventor of the vacuum tube and father of television.
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"Everything that can be invented has been invented."
Charles H. Duell, Commissioner, U.S. Office of Patents, 1899
As you can see even people with impressive resumes aren’t experts in everything like they think they are. I‘m certainly glad I never had these experts whispering in my ear and giving me advice about anything important. Everything comes back to good old “common sense”. Constantly being negative about things just stifles creativity and can make you one miserable and unhappy SOB and also reward you with an honorable mention on this blog.
With New Years Eve on the horizon a decision has to be made as to how we’ll be celebrating it. The days of drunken carousing have long since passed for us both but those their memories are still nice to have. Each year I scratch my head about what we should do and then we end up procrastinating and doing nothing at all. Over the next few days I’m sure to have a discussion or two with my better-half on what she thinks we should do. I’m already preparing myself for that discussion by gathering information to help my cause.
I’m going to argue as eloquently as I can that dinner, a couple of chick flicks, and a visit from her daughter and grandson isn’t going to get it done this year. I’d like to have a few friends over for drinks, food, games, movies, or whatever. If they drink too much we’ll turn the house into a B & B for the night and I’ll cook breakfast for the survivors in the morning. The chances of getting my way are about 60/40 if I’m lucky.
We have a few days left before the big day so I’ll have to be my sneaky self and start planning my secret mission. Subtle hints about not being alone for New Years. Casual questions about how some of our friends are celebrating the holiday and a few “Oh, that sounds so boring, I feel bad for them”. More subtle questions about how lonely some of our friends will be with their children off celebrating elsewhere. I’ll drop a few coupons around the house from the Party Place filled with money-saving offers for stupid party hats and noise makers. Then I’ll dig into my bag of fireworks hidden on the porch and leave a few laying around where they’ll be noticed. Then I’ll let all of those things start to mix and mingle in her pretty little head and Ta Da . . . . we’ll have a New Years party and it’ll be her idea.
Pretty damn cool if I do say so myself. I’m sure she won’t be able to resist coupons. She’s a grade A shopaholic with a serious need to use every coupon she ever sees. It’s like hooking a big fish and then just reeling it in. I have a hidden stash of coupons for all occasions and places and I’m telling you they’ll accomplish more for me than they’d ever do for her. Sneaky, sneaky, sneaky!
The campaign begins this afternoon when she arrives home from work. I’ll be sure to report the results.
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