It was a cool, clear Saturday night in Plymouth and the High School Class of 1958 gathered to celebrate another time (50 years ago). Your Mom and I were both a part of that Class.
We all morph physically from a "hard bodies" to softer, gentler beings. The big question was "would I recognize all my old classmates"? Thank God for name tags.
As we arrived at the VFW Hall, we were joined by others arriving at the same time. Jim Owens, the son of my chemistry teacher, saw your Mom and I coming from the parking lot and shouted out "Shelby?". Sh--! He didn't yell out "Chuck?" I had been one of his best buddies. What was that all about? So we struck up a conversation with Jim outside the VFW and had trouble progressing to the hall because other people came by and the "recognition game" began. Lots of nice people! Lots of memories.
Everybody loves Shelby. How could they not? She lit up the festivities. There were exclamations of "Shelby, Shelby" followed by lots of giggles and laughter.
It is interesting that we all see the world from only from our perspective. Jim Owens thanked me for saving his life as a kid. I had no idea what he was talking about. Apparently we had been walking on the ice of the Mullet River when we were teenagers and Jim fell through the ice. He claims I reached down, grabbed his hand and pulled him out. He was soaked and cold. I took him home to the City Club and my Mom made him get out of the wet garb she wrapped him with blankets. As he described the ordeal, my memory of the event came back but I never perceived it to be life threatening. Apparently Jim did. I guess that qualifies me for one of the 5 people he would meet in heaven. Jim was always one of the good guys. He is a retired civil engineer.
Then there was Tom and Judy. They were high school sweethearts and Mom and I "double dated" with them many times. Tom was all-conference everything. You know. Football, basketball and baseball. They never had kids which limited the conversation. He became a naval dentist and Judy was a career hygenist. Money to burn. I forgot that Tom was not a "talker" and conversation had to come from me. Yawn!
Late in the evening I was approached by "the lady in the black dress". Phyllis was a class member. She had lived on a farm and I never had too much contact with her. She sought me out as I sat on cushioned ledge. She was very friendly and the black dress was very attractive. I suddenly was deep in discussion about the path her life took (of course I asked lots of questions). There was lots of laughter. I turned around and there was Mom introducing herself to the woman in the black dress. Your Mom's words were "Oh Phyllis, I didn't recognize you"! From then on, it was a 3-way conversation. Actually, Phyllis was very nice and she has aged gracefully. I will always remember the woman in the black dress.
The rest of the night was Bob, Mike, Richard, Kazahito, Chico, Bernie, Launa (of Johnsonville sausage fame), Tom and Judy. There were many more and they all had their stories. It was an intriquing snapshot of yesterday. Time went very fast.
So we move on knowing that we were surrounded by good classmates (and families). They belong in the past. They will stay in the past.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that you can't go back. You can not return to yesterday. The past helped shaped what you are but the future is ahead. Live it!
Love,
Dad
Your Mom celebrated her birthday recently and you Grasshoppers certainly helped make it a success. It turned out to be more than a one day event. It was a continuous series of celebrations.
Her "exercise buddies" treated Mom to a breakfast (a week before the official date). The breakfast was the only time that everyone could get together.
Then the same buddies held a luncheon at one of the "buddy homes" several days later for anyone who could make it.
On Mom's actual birthday (June 20th), the special person in her life took her to the Fireside to see "Barefoot in the Park". The day included the serendipitous trip through the countryside to avoid all the flooded areas and a footrub at the end of the day. Oh yeah, there were presents involved.
Then several days later, her sister invited her up to Door County (for her birthday) to spend the day and do some shopping (I was forced to play golf at the Harbor Golf course in Egg Harbor-tough duty). It ended with a dinner in Egg Harbor and a leisurely trip back the next day.
It gets me wondering how long a birthday can last. Mom's seems to go on and on and on.
Maybe a birthday celebration can last throughout the year. Maybe it is just a matter of perspective and attitude. Is it possible that everyday could be your birthday? Perhaps you just have to believe.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that birthdays are what you make them. Your being born is reason to celebrate every day. Go for it!
The next Grasshopper birthday celebration is the 29th of June. I remember a Thursday morning in 1972. I remember sunny skies. I remember 80 degrees. I handed out cheap cigars at work and Nana came to babysit for 4-5 days. I think Nana cleaned and reorganized the whole house. Now there is a celebration!
Love,
Dad
Here we go again with "I remember when ......."!
Growing up in the small town of Plymouth, the two banks in town were within walking distance of the City Club.
My Grandma Myrna had a "working relationship" with the Dairy State Bank across the street. Many employees of the Kohler Company (and the local Borden Cheese Company) would stop at the City Club on Friday afternoon. Myrna would cash their weekly paychecks and they would celebrate the end of the work week by purchasing food and beverages. She needed a lot of cash for one day to handle all the transactions. Myrna worked out an arrangement with Dairy State for "one day loans" to cover the huge cash requirement. She could call the bank and get instant service without a signature for the loan. The bank in return could call Myrna to find out the status of her situation. How about that! A bank concerned for a human being.
Fast forward to 2008. Banks are now impersonal organizations trying to make a buck on every mis-step we take. They love overdrafts because they can charge you $25 for each and every mis-calculation. A one day loan arrangement like Myrna's would cost a fortune today.
I recently read about a lady that got her statement from her bank and noticed a charge of $15.75 for having her checks returned to her. She remembered that she had enrolled in the "Gold Premium Checking" account. By keeping $1000 in the account, there was no-charge for her checking service. She called the bank and indicated that the $15.75 charge was improper. The bank agreed. So they went back 3 months retroactively and gave her 3 months credit. Everybody is happy right? Wrong.
It turns out that the bank had been over-charging the lady for more than 3 years and that there was $500-$600 potential credit involved. The bank said they only went back several months in this case because their files are limited. The lady indicated that she wanted her records for 3 years searched. That would cost another $45. Even with the search, the bank indicated that their policy was to limit correction of errors to 3 months. The woman was out the $500-$600.
There are lots of obvious questions. How could the woman miss a charge on her statement of $15.75 every month? Maybe she didn't balance her checking account? Maybe she was 100 years old? I don't know. What I do know is that Myrna would never have had any problems of hidden charges leveled on her by a predator bank. Isn't progress great?
The lesson Grasshoppers is that the big warm "fuzzy" friendly banker is a disguised shark. They will eat up your hard earned cash everytime you make a minor slip. The suggestion that you have a good relationship with your bank is an illusion. Check all your transactions! When it comes to your hard earned cash, don't trust anyone.
Love,
Dad
Yesterday was the longest day of the year. It a the solstice. The first day of summer. The good news is that you get extra sunlight to enjoy outdoor activities. The bad news is that days start getting shorter.
It was also your Mother's birthday. I know that every "offspring" remembered her birthday which made her very happy. There were even a few gifts.
Some "brain-trust" group of medical scientists developed a formula that takes into account human emotional and physical cylces. They calulated using calculus that June 20 is the happiest day of the year. So Grasshoppers, your mom was born on the happiest day of the year. This whole idea is predicated on the assumption that you can calculate happiness using a mathematical formula. Yeah, right!
We decided to visit the Fireside yesterday in Fort Atkinson. I knew that the southern part of the state had been hit hard with rain storms a week ago and that flooding was causing serious problems. Several areas, like Jefferson, Wisconsin were applying for national disaster relief.
I figured when I made reservations a week ago that flooding caused by the rain would subside and travel would be "normal". Even after a week of sun and nice conditions, southern areas were still under water. Our trip takes us through Jefferson. Not yesterday. We had to take a detour. I had looked at the map and decided not to follow the normal detour and find my own shorter route. I found a convoluted county road. It was like driving through the Kettle Moraine. It was scenic. It seemed to take forever. My comment to your Mom was "that we seem to have to have found the serendipidous route". She lit up like a Christmas tree. She liked the word "serendipidous". It seems many of her adventures in the car are serendipitous. Her suggestion was that would should take this route again some day. Yeah, right. It tooks us 15 miles out of our way.
The highlight of our trip to Fort Atkinson was entering the city from the only open road into town (we had to come in from the east). Fort Atkinson has also applied for federal disaster relief because the Rock River overflowed it banks and flooded the highways. As we entered Fort Atkinson, Highway 106 was lined with sandbags on both sides of the road and water was 1-2 feet above road level but the sandbags and pumps were keeping water off the road. It is an erie feeling driving with water "along-side" your car at levels that would flood your engine if the sandbags broke. The highway itself was almost dry because pumps were keeping water away and the sun was so strong.
So we zipped in to Fort Atkinson between the sandbags. It was like Moses parting the sea. Happy, happy, happy. We were approaching the promised land.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that life is what you make it. If you want to believe June 20, is the happiest day of the year, go ahead. It is your Mother's birthday. What could be happier than that?
Love,
Dad
Fathers Day came and went. It turned out very nice with an impromptu "brat fry" at our house and a "footrub" by the one who let me into her life 50 years ago.
For a moment, I can't resist being my Mother! She could lay a guilt trip on children with her "pity party" antics. You know, things like "no one ever comes to visit me any more". Or, "nobody cares". Well, four out of five Grasshoppers either called, visited or bought me a gift on Fathers Day. The one Grasshopper that forgot everything lives out of State (but I won't mention her name) and apparently is still "married to her car", camera and job. How is that for guilt treatment? Are you ready now for more? "It is okay if the Grasshopper in Minneapolis forgets Father day, I know she is a busy gal". Now the sincere part. I know she cares and I live someplace in her heart. She doesn't have to call!
My Dad has been dead 51 years. I can't even conceive all the things that he missed by dying early. I can't conceive all the things I missed.
I was struck by the recent death of Tim Russert, the announcer for NBC. He wasn't special to me or anything but he was a "visible icon" of the politcal news world. He was at the top of his game. He understood the special father/child relationship. He wrote a book about his blue collar roots featuring his Dad called "Big Russ and I". He had one son who just graduated from college. Here was a caring guy that championed family values. Then he dies unexpectedly from a coronary blockage at age 58. For some reason, he epitomized the type of person who came to realize what was important in life and he worked to enrich those things. Russert was denied the traditional retirement years and he seemed like a man that was looking forward to that time. Life is very, very, very fragile.
I know two Grandsons that lost their Dad on June 15, three years ago. Sunday marked the 3rd anniversary of that loss. It was ironic that the anniversary of his death was on Fathers Day. I can't imagine all the shared moments that will never happen.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that the important things in life are all around you and they happen every day. If you listen very closely, you can hear life talking to you!
Give your loved ones a hug.
Love,
Dad
Okay, here is the "skinny"! Our cable driven TV in the basement puked (Grasshopper No.5's term). The TV shows lots of digital dots in very colorful patterns with "broken" sound clips. Our other TV sets in the house work fine including HD service to the first floor TV.
I called our local, friendly cable service provider and talked to a very nice lady technician. We discussed the problem and very methodically "rebooted" everything from their signal at the main switching station to our digital box on top of the TV. We still had the checkerboard screen.
The technician told me to recheck all the connections from the outlet to the TV. When I told her that the new gold plated input cable went to a "splitter" so we can record and watch TV simultaneously, the tone of the helpful conversation changed. "Oh, you have a splitter" she exclaimed. "Oh, Mr. Andrews, that may be your problem." I told her it was a high quality new splitter. She didn't care. My credibility as a user of cable service was in jeopardy. If I want to record, I should look into their DVR digital box which stores up to 100 programs. I know Grasshopper No. 3 has the service but it is another $10-$20 per month.
So where am I with this problem. I ran a direct line from the cable jack in the wall directly to my digital box and eliminated the splitter. Yep, it works great. Damn!
So now I've got a dilemma. We could go without ever recording another program and run our input line only to the digital tuner. Your Mom would have apoplexy because Oprah and Dr. Phil would become a mere memory. Or, as the cable company tells me, I need a DVR digital box from them at an extra cost per month and then record the programs to tape when we want later.
My theory is that the cable "system" is getting loaded to the point that the delivery to each and every home is weakened slightly. Yes I have a signal but the strength is diminished slightly. That is why I get a broken signal.
So what do I do? What do I do? Stay tuned.
Today is Friday the 13th. Some people believe bad things happen on the 13th. The fear of the number is called trisadectaphobia. My TV problems couldn't be blamed on 13?
Have a Happy Fathers Day.
Love,
Dad
I admit that I am becoming my parents. As I watch the world change, I am not so sure that it is always for the better. So I get to complain and refer to the "good old days".
Believe it or not, I matured while watching computer technology grow from it's infancy. Yep, I learned how to write programs using early computer languages. As companies like Intel learned how to put more and more information on small "computer chips", it allowed the cost of computing to come down. Apple actually started to make computers available to the average person with "home computers" in the early 1980's. I got hooked on electronic spreadsheets. The rest is history. Smaller chips. Lap top computers. Blu-Ray CD players. You get the idea. Lots of ways to make personal living more affordable and fun.
So where am I going with this technology observation. To the land of "mush". My contention is that we are turning our younger generation in to "mindless" robots. They "plug into" a computer game that takes them to the land of OZ and they learn absolutely nothing except how develop "finger-thumb" coordination. The game experience is amazing and enjoyable. What is lost is the constant exposure to different situations and the development of character! We wonder why our kids are overweight!.
Don't allow your kids minds to turn to "mush". Technology is great and it can be a powerful tool in dealing with life. Or you can continure buy your kids a bigger and better Playstations with Blu-Ray capability with gillions of gigabytes storage so that can lay their lazy asses on the sofa playing "Slay Godzilla" while the sun is shining outside. That will make them happy! That will make them useless. That transport them to the land of mush.
Here it comes. In my day, we experienced things constantly that served us well as we traveled the path of life. Technology can allow a person to become more productive in an exponential way. Technology can alternatively turn a kid's mind to mush. Don't let it happen. Make them get a job. Let them assume home responsibilites. Force them to go outside and play. Do something, anything (even if it is wrong)! Hide the joysticks.
Love,
Dad
I could not have imagined the family interest in the news that our "old cottage" next to the Janke's was for sale. It has been 10 years since the cottage was sold (1998).
Perhaps it is the fond memories? Here is a chance to regain the cottage and again use it for summer recreation.
Because Grasshopper No.1 and Grasshopper No.4 are "in the area", they were the first to become aware of the cottage going up for sale. No.4 called the present owners to determine selling price. He said he asked the price 3 times to make sure he heard right. Here is the deal! Our family bought the cottage in 1983 for $89,000. We sold it 15 years later for $220,000. We never bought the cottage to make money. It was a place to go. It was part of your Mom and My dreams. Memories include boats, swimming, sun bathing, swings in the boat house and "brat fries". The value of the cottage did increase nicely over 15 years but if you account for inflation, the gain in real dollars is not all that much.
It has now been 10 years since we sold. The asking price is now $630,000. Whoa! No wonder Grasshopper No.4 had to ask the price 3 times. Triple the price in 10 years is a damn good investment. There is no assurance that the cottage will sell for that price but certainly the demand for quality lake property keeps increasing.
So the dream of owning a lake cottage becomes a little more elusive. If the new price is realistic, only the rich can afford it. It is not a year around home. It is a seasonal cottage.
The one factor that should make everyone feel better is that Floyd still lives next door. Imagine buying the cottage now for the outrageous price and finding out who your neighbor is!
The lesson Grasshoppers is that dreams come and go. We had 20-25 years of cottages and condos. The memories are priceless and they can not be taken away. Someone will have to spend $630,000 to pursue new dreams. That is somewhat disconcerting. Here is an idea! Each of you 5 Grasshoppers could put $120.000 into a "pool" and you could collectively buy it. Think about it! You too could own the dream (okay, 1/5 of it).
Love,
Dad
Summer begins!
Grasshopper No.2 is preparing for outpatient surgery tomorrow morning in Madison. When it comes to medical procedures there is nothing routine. My thoughts are with her. I think several weeks of non work recovery are in order.
I spent 20 minutes with my local Dermatologist today and he removed a mole and some skin damage. My biggest sin the last 50 years has been golfing which exposes arms and face. I guess skin damage is forever (they use the term cumulative damage during one's lifetime). So for a week or two, it looks like your Mom beat me up.
Grasshopper No.5 fulfilled her quest for a unique car. The last time around, she wanted a MINI-Cooper which is a little BMW that gets some ridiculous mileage on the highway (40 mpg or more). The sales person for the MINI was a "bitch" to use No.5's description. She opted for the Honda Accord which has served her for over 3 years. Now when it comes time to get a different vehicle, it turns out to be red and gray MINI and the top goes down. In all this cuteness she is really playing smartly to the obscene gas prices that seem to be in our future.
My car is acting up. I think the problem is in the steering. Everytime I go past a Dairy Queen, the Saab turns into the drive thru. Damn! I fight the steering wheel but the car has a mind of it's own. So what the hell, as long as I'm there, I might as well get a vanilla cone. I don't know if I want to get the steering fixed or not. Maybe a MINI is in my future.
Shelby Jr's Mom is experiencing numbness in some of her limbs. The last time it was a very serious spinal infection that took months to get under control. Sue was rushed to a hospital in Milwaukee this last weekend for MRI's and X-Rays. Hopefully the prognosis is positive. Our thoughts and prayers go out to her.
Yesterday was my first day of league golf. I'm back to playing a golf course I don't like with the same feeble golf game. I don't know why I keep pursuing this mindless pursuit of a little white ball. I guess it is to get more sunburn (and subsequent skin damage) and then I can pay to see a Dermatologist. Wait, didn't I just describe insanity?
If you are interested, our old cottage (next to Floyd) at Crystal is for sale. The price is slightly higher than when your Mom and I owned the cottage. It almost makes me feel bad about selling it. Here is an idea. You 5 Grasshoppers could pool your resources and buy the old place. Then you could invite your Mom and me out to visit.
Awaiting your Invitation!
Love,
Dad