As our 47th wedding anniversary looms (April 2) and Easter approaches (April 8), it seems that all the Grasshoppers are busy.
Grasshopper No. 1 is headed for Virginia with a diversion to Churchill Downs, the home of the Kentucky Derby. I don't know what the fascination is with horses, but "to each her own". Probably lots of pictures.
Grasshopper No. 2 is headed with her troops to the Grand Canyon. It was the one destination that our family missed on our trip to the West Coast 30 years ago. This trip is a combination of seminars in Las Vegas, kids having spring break and the chance to venture to someplace special.
Grasshopper No. 3 is holding down the fort (along with Collin) but Shelby Jr. and Keeley are head for Paris, France. Again spring break comes into play and Keeley graduates from high school in June (and her life begins).
Grasshopper No. 4 "has gun, will travel". If you hear of any lucrative job positions that are open, he is ready.
Grasshopper No. 5 remains on the tundra in Minnesota and probably will remain there over Easter.
So you see, everybody seems to be on the move or occupied. That is as it should be.
Doesn't all the traveling cost money? Tax refunds must play a role.
Stay well!
Love,
Dad
There was this Princess named Lyla who lived on the Island of Plymouth Rock. She had led an exemplary life with the love of her life, Prince George. Princess Lyla was 96 and Prince George had passed on. The Island of Plymouth Rock required payments of gold each month to remain on the island. One day, Princess Lyla went to the cave where her fortune had been stored and when she looked into her treasure chest, was dismayed that the gold was almost gone. What would she do? She would be exiled from the island if she could not deliver gold monthly.
That meant she would probably she would have to move to Odyssey Island and receive full time care whether she needed it or not. It was the only island where you could live free. Many people hated Odyssey Island but when you run out of gold, that is the only option.
Well the God of Miracles was looking down and decided that a new program would be created where Princess Lyla could remain on Plymouth Rock and all costs would be paid by the big Island (Odyssey Island). The God of Miracles missed one small detail. Princess Lyla would have to venture to Odyssey Island until they could process her for approval. The promise was that she could get approval to go home in days or one week. Suddenly days turned into many weeks. This didn't look good.
Then Princess Lyla's second daughter (the prettiest), Princess Shelby took on the task of swimming the waters of bureacracy between the islands and was determined to get Princess Lyla back to her oriiginal Island. Shelby came ashore on Odyssey Island. She fought the natives, the female warriors and finally the Chief. It was a fierce struggle. The Chief admired Princess Shelby's determination and he granted free, immediate passage back to Plymouth Rock. Princess Lyla could go home. Odyssey Island would pay gold on her behalf on a monthly basis.
As the two Princesses, Lyla and Shelby walked ashore on the home island, there was a collective sigh of relief. It had been a struggle but they had made it home.
There were lots of friendly warriors who helped in this epic struggle and they should all be recognized for their assistance. But in the end it was Princess Shelby who saved the day! God Bless her effort.
Love,
Dad
My refund from the IRS should be coming soon. This year my Federal refund will be $309.
Plan No. 1 was to put the money into a stock fund so that upon my demise you 5 Grasshoppers would split the amount and get $61.80 each.
Plan No. 2 was to buy Mom something nice. Maybe some flowers. A gift? A dinner at a very nice restaurant. Maybe all of the above.
Plan No. 3 (the plan I prefer) was to buy myself a watch that has GPS (Satellite directed signals that adjust for perfect time every hour). Call it an "out and out extravagance".
On Tuesday my headlight blew out on the Saab (after going through the car wash). Strange things happen after car washes. I needed $15.75 for the random failure. Now my $309 was down to $293.25 (your take would now be $58.65).
Then on Wednesday our VHS tape recorder died. Surprisingly you can buy a new one for $57. Your mom tapes shows she likes and wants to make duplicate tapes in the future. Okay, we spent $57. Now we are down to $236.25 (your share now $47.25).
Then our large garage door sputtered and stopped. Broken gears everywhere. It is a Sears special and the cost came to $105.00 to fix. Now we are down to $131.25 remaining (your share now $26.25)
Soon after our VHS recorder was replaced, our large screen TV in the basement which we bought in 1994 puked. It has lots of yellow, lime and blue shadows and distortion. The TV repairman is coming today. If he can fix it, I'm looking at $200. My tax refund now goes negative to $68.75 and I guess that means you all should chip in $13.75 each to help out. The operative word is "if" the TV can be fixed. If it can't be fixed we are looking at a big time expense for a DPL large screen TV with 1080 pixels from a projection format resulting in high quality HDTV. Grasshopper No. 3 says that cost could be a minimum of $2,000. Now you all need to kick in $400-$500 each to help us out.
As a friend of mine use to say, "shit happens". This week has had more than it's share of unplanned expenses. It is part of life's process.
Obviously this is a spoof. The tax refund has nothing to do with the random negative events. The refund should still be saved and set aside for emergencies, inheritances and indulgences. Don't be tempted to fritter it away.
The lesson Grasshoppers is save your refund. You accumulated it over the course of a year and it can be a really nice boost to your savings account. Call it a windfall.
Love,
Dad
I was minding my own business. Your Mom and I had just finished lunch and were leaving a restaurant. A familiar face approached us. Yep, it was the Devine Ms. S from the local fitness center. Mom works out twice a week with the Devine Ms. S, a local body builder and fitness trainer. Ms. S greeted Mom and then addressed me as "Mr. Yoda". We left the restaurant and I inquired what that was all about.
Apparently your Mom is know in the local fitness center as Yoda (you know, of Star Wars fame). No, it was not for her physical build but for the wisdom she shares especially with Ms. S. Ms. S has received support in her trivails through life from Mom. Your mom has become her mentor. You don't look for mentors, it just kind of happens.
So if your Mom is Yoda, I guess that makes me Mr. Yoda. What the hell does that mean? Is that like Mr. Mom.
So what kind of advice qualifies as wisdom from the great master Yoda? I know of some things. For example, "everything happens for a reason". That helps a person understand why they are being "dumped on" on a continuing basis. It assumes that maybe someday you'll understand the "reason".
Or, "put yourself first". Of course you've got to take care of No, 1. If you don't, who will. I don't know if I'd travel across 15 galaxies to visit Yoda for that advice, but it qualifies as universal wisdom.
You get the idea. Mom speaks, the Devine Ms S listens and all is right with the world.
So now I ge the title of Mr. Yoda. Does that mean I have super wisdom or is it way for Ms. S to antagonize me. It sounds impressive.
Well, all I know is that if you address me as Mr. Yoda from now on, I will probably respond. I guess I'm flattered. I really didn't do anything. Your mom did!
Actually it is a nice compliment to your Mom. She has a "follwing".
Love,
Dad
My mother (Alice) had one sibling. Jerry was about 10 years younger than Alice and he was born with big feet. That should have been a clue because he grew to 6 foot 5 inches in height. My little brother, Jerry Lee was born years later and to eliminate the confusion of having two "Jerrys" in the family, we ended up with Big Jerry (Alice's brother) and Little Jerry (my younger brother). Don't ever name your kids after someone in the family because it is forever confusing.
Big Jerry moved from Plymouth to Cable, Wisconsin in the mid 1940's with his parents (my grandparents Jiggs and Helen). He had no choice. They lived in a lodge that had cabins which were rented out during the summer and during "deer hunting season". There was no running water, no electricity and no indoor bathrooms. Rugged stuff.
Big Jerry was hearty. He could fish, hunt and swim. He made extra money guiding Chicago executives to where all the big musky fish were. As big and tough as he seemed to be, his interest was to play in the high school band. It drove my dad nuts. My dad, being an athlete, always envied size and strength. Football was a must. Not big Jerry! I don't remember his instrument in the band but it was probably a piccalo (actually I think it was a tuba).
I was always considered part of the Andrews side of the family while brother Jack was considered Stiller. Jack got the favored treatment. Big Jerry had no patience for tears. He had no patience for complaining. He had no patience for "hurt". You could have your arm broke in three places and his comment would have been "toughen up".
I only saw Big Jerry when we went to visit Wildwood Lodge near Cable once or twice a year. Many times he was busy with buddies so we'd only see him occasionally. Very vivid in my mind was after he enlisted in the Navy, his buddy Artie picked him up in Milwaukee on furlow and on the way home to Cable, they stopped in Plymouth to pick up Jack and myself so we could go north with them. Big Jerry's buddy had an old clunker Nash that belched oil constantly. We stopped every 50 miles and put in two quarts of oil. The trip was 300 miles so we went through 12 quarts of oil. Jerry thought that was funny.
Jerry lived with our family at the City Club for about 6 months between stints in the Navy. He worked in the local foundry. He went to the Sheboygan Extenstion (college) but flunked out. After 6 months he rejoined the Navy and made a career out of it.
Our family visited Big Jerry in 1976 in California. We stayed with him for a couple of days. Grasshopper No. 4 (he was 4 years old) was treated the same way Jack and I had been treated. Paul was knocked over constantly by the "aggressive" big black lab dog and Big Jerry thought it was funny. Paul endured but there were plenty of tears. Predictably Jerry's attitude was toughen up.
I saw Big Jerry several years ago when he visited family in the Wisconsin area. I think Jerry is now in his early 70's. He is still big but things changed. He was taking large does of insulin for diabetes and he had an oxygen nose "hook-up" to help him breathe. He had trouble walking any distance.
Big Jerry is a good guy that popped into my life from time to time. He is family. He is tough to get close to because he always has had a "prickly, gruff" personality. He still lives in California with his bride of about 10 years. He will show up again. It will be un-announced. He will be fun to visit with and he will be gone again. That is Big Jerry!
Love,
Dad
We did it! We have been using dial up telephone service for our computer since we had our first Gateway/IBM compatible system back in the early 1990's. We now have Roadrunner cable service and our waiting days are over (I think). Just $10 down and a lifetime to pay.
Just an update on Brett Favre, the toughest man on the planet. He had ankle surgery to remove bone spurs (remember he had no anesthetic). Well it is reported today that he took out his own stitches on a flight from Mississippi to Florida. Who needs doctors. Then he took the stitches and wadded them up and made chewing tobacco out of them. I'm told he knawed on the stitches "chaw" for long time.
The pressure is on to get Nana out of the Rocky Knoll nursing facility and back into Kindred Hearts. The government is expediting the process. Yeah, right. I am not a psychologist but anytime you are in a strange surrounding for a long time (and you don't want to be there), patience runs short. The calvary is on the way (your Mom).
Grasshopper No. 4 has Wisconsin going to the final game of the NCAA tournament that starts Thursday. Talk about being blinded by school loyality. Until Brian Butch can shove people around in the center (he is out with a fractured elbow) and until Tucker can shoot free throws that don't hit the front of the rim, Wisconsin will get an early ticket home. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to see Wisconsin go far in the tournament. I just wouldn't put any money on them.
Tomorrow they finish the root canal on a tooth that they started 2 weeks ago. This time expert endodonics doctors get in volved and should finish the job. It seems to me that you shouldn't have to endure two root canals on the same tooth. I wonder how they charge for the service. Do I get billed twice?
Days are getting longer. Temperatures are rising. Spring is next week.
Stay warm.
Love,
Dad
It has happened. I have evolved into an executive secretary for the special person in my life. I answer phones. I take messages. I relay information. I make things go! I finally realize that that all executive secretaries are overworked, under paid and under-appreciated. They are the brains behind every home organization. I am in the process of forming a national " home executive secretary" day. Why not have one more useless reason to celebrate?
Actually my attitude is pretty good. It was 35 degrees this morning. The sun was shining. Temperatures are rising. There is some of the best college basketball of the year on the tube. The NCAA tournament starts next week and UW-Madison along with Marquette should represent Wisconsin. There might even be a bet or two placed. I've got free golf lessons coming. And Brett Favre is coming back. Does it get any better.
Now to "Aw, Schist". This can only happen in America. A left handed pitcher named Mike White of the LA Dodgers has been trying to make it to the major leagues for many years and at age 29 has managed to pitch in 6 total games. But his dream is alive. Several years ago, he helped out an elderly aunt with her nursing home bills by buying 50 acres of land from her in Massachusett for $50,000. He was clearing off land for a home on his newly purchased property but he found nothing but rock. He hired a geologist to tell him what kind of property he had bought. It turns out he bought "schist". It is not a dirty word. It is a type of mica flatstone used for patios, sidewalks, and building. It is worth $100 per ton. He has over $2 billion (yes, that is with a "b") of schist on his property. Mike is an instant billionaire
So while the highest paid athlete in history (Alex Rodriquez) signed for $250 million dollars over 10 years, Mike White stumbled onto 10 times that amount. That is a lot of schist.
So what will Mike White do? Will he pursue the pitching career or return to a Massachusetts mining business. He has lots of choices. His career will probably turn to schist.
Why doesn't that kind of schist happen to me? For me "schist" is spelled different.
I hope "schist" happens to you!
Love,
Dad
We all have memories of special occassions with our childhood friends. This memory is mine.
Snow laden trees created a winter wonderland last week. It reminded me of being a kid 10-12 years old. My buddies (girls weren't allowed because they were still yukky) and I would wander up and down the local railroad tracks looking for things to do. It was winter and we found the early construction of a huge building in Plymouth for a new Borden Cheese office building and warehouse. It was just south of Plymouth adjacent to a railroad spur. The basement had been dug out and the concrete walls poured. The first floor of the building had been poured but had many openings for things like future elevators or ventilation systems. When construction workers were preparing to pour concrete for the basement floor, they struck a water spring. Water gushed into the lower level and rose to a level of about 3-4 feet. Everything stopped. Construction was held up until they could figure out how to deal with the water. Winter set in and all the water froze
My buddies and I found this wonderous fantasy skating rink. It was surreal. The ice was glistening and clear because snow could not reach it. There was enough light coming in from the openings in the floor above to make it seem like an ice arena with spot lights.
As kids, it was special. There was no wind because the basement walls protected the ice. There was no snow except in isolated piles where the sunlight poured through openings in the floor above. You could look down through the ice and actually see the bottom of the basement.
Each stroke of your ice skates made a new mark in the clear ice. There were no bumps or cracks. Each stroke of the skate made a crisp sound that echoed in the huge cement room. When you slid sideways to stop, your blades would shave a layer of perfect ice.
We didn't tell anyone about the special ice rink. For sure, you didn't tell "grown ups"? We knew if we told, someone would say don't go there because it was private property. So we would sneak away and enjoy probably the best ice skating condtions ever created. The ice was clear, pristine and untouched. It was fun to keep the place secret.
I think the Borden Company eventually abandoned the project and tore down the construction. I don't know how they solved the "waters spring" problem but if you drive in that area today, it is occupied by many buildings.
Now you know about a secret place from my ice skating past. It was a place that less than 10 people knew about. And now you know! You are sworn to secrecy. I only share memories with loved ones because I know they can keep a secret.
Can they arrest me for trespassing 50 years after the infraction?
Love,
Dad
It is written in the Scripture that ye all shall endure sufficient snow, sleet, rain, wind and slop to grow angry before the pain of winter slips away. So suck it up, it is "written".
Your mom and I spent a night at the Performing Arts Center enjoying Garrison Keillor of Prairie Home Companion fame do a concert with the Fox Cities Symphony. It sounds stuffy but it was a delight. Garrison was on stage for the whole concert reciting poems, spinning bullshit stories and singing his version of famous songs. In the background was the symphony. I did learn that sex is not the answer. Sex is the question. Yes, is the answer. We did not sell our tickets on e-Bay for the reported going fee of $450 per person.
A week ago, I underwent a root canal from my friendly dentist. He was almost done (after 2 hours) and he said "whoops" I can't do this. I couldn't talk with all the crap in my mouth so I tried to understand what "I can't do this" means. It means I have to go to a specialist endodonist that must blast through calcification of one ot the canals. So my dentist quickly closed up the procdure and put a temporary filling in my tooth. I was home 20 minutes and the temporary filling started flaking apart. So I went back to get a second "temporary". In two weeks a specialist will perform his version of a root canal and then I can go back to get my tooth restored over the root canal. I am going to get charged for the first failed root canal, temporary fillings from two visits, a professional root canal using blasting techniques and finally tooth restoration complete with large fillings. It all makes me wonder. You can live you whole life keeping you regular teeth if you are willing to pay. My mother had false teeth and the biggest expense in her life was one or two replacement sets.
Cable News showed a hearse taking Anna Nicole Smith to the airport to be flown to the Bahamas to be buried with her son. Who the hell is Anna Nicole Smith?
Brett Favre had his ankle surgery this week. He personifies tough. He had to remove his blue costume with the big "S" on the chest. They couldn't cut through the skin to reach the ankle bone until they used a laser. They broke every scalpal they had on his tough bone. They had to use diamond tipped tools to remove the spurs. They did not use any anesthetic. Is he our hero or what? Rumor has it that the removed bone spurs will be sold on e-Bay.
Grasshopper No. 5 needs a job with good paying benefits. There is a perfect match out there someplace. It is written.
Love,
Dad