Your Mom and I watched the program Medium last night. The star is psychic and can see the future. Her special gift last night was a bell than rang in her head (ding-ding) when somebody lied to her.
I couldn't help but think this would be a terrific gift. Your Mom, Shelby Jr. and Grasshoppers No.1, 2, and 5 already believe they have psychic ability. So adding a ding-ding to their repertoire would be an added gift.
It works like this. If you ask your kid "did you take the peanut butter out of the refrigerator" and they answer "no" (but they really did), a bell sounds in you head (ding-ding).
This gift would eliminate all the bullsh-- from answers. Of course there is a risk that you would be hearing way to many bells.
Let your mind work!
"Honey, do you still love me"? "You know I do"! Ding-ding.
"Honey do I look fat in this dress"? "No you look great"! Ding-ding.
"Will you love me in the morning"? "I will love you forever"! Ding-ding.
"Do you take this woman/man to love and obey for the rest of your life"? "I do"! Ding-ding.
You get the idea. But it goes further. When Obama promises that taxes will not go up, you'd hear the ding-ding.
When a politician proclaims "I did not have sex with that woman", ding-ding.
The truth is that you don't want to hear bells go off everytime somebody lies. You would be hearing bells way to many bells. So maybe it isn't such a great idea.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that you don't need bells (ding-ding) going off in your head all the time to decern truth from lies. Moms (and sometimes Dads) already know when a spouse, kid or grandchild is lying. Don't ask me how. It is one of life's great mysteries.
Love,
Dad
I woke up last night to a thumping sound coming from somewhere in the house. That ain't good! It was 3:30 AM. I wandered into the basement and found our furnace making a light banging noise. I ask myself "why me, why now"?
The good news is that the furnace is still running (noise and all) and the service man is scheduled for early afternoon.
I went to my local health club this morning and while speeding around the track I was passed up by a middle aged lady with multiple schlerosis. She works very hard to keep exercising the muscles in her body. With my lousy furnace problem, what do I have to complain about?
Spring weather is again ravaging North Dakota as the Red River overflows it's banks by over 5 feet. People are working day and night to try and contain the water destruction to properties along the river. What do I have to complain about?
Yesterday a local funeral home burned down. Can you imagine losing a loved one, transporting them to the funeral home and finding out they were consumed in the fire. What else could possibly happen to the deceased? I suppose there could be a church catastrophe during the final services. What do I have to complain about?
So there will be no pity party here Grasshoppers. My furnace will get serviced today. My special partner and I get to attend the live performance of the radio show "Prarie Home Companion" hosted by Garrison Keeler tomorrow afternoon at the PAC. It should be fun. The snow they have forecasted will turn out to be a non-event late Saturday night. Finally, I will move into the forefront of the bet I have with Grasshopper No.4 over the NCAA tournament.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that negative stuff happens all the time. It is only troublesome if you let it. There is always somebody with problems bigger than yours. There will be no pity party here!
Love,
Dad
I keep reading about the releases of hero movies like Superman #52 or something like that. Similar ficticious characters like Batman and the "X-Men" are popular. It takes me back to the early 1950's when comic books were in vogue.
My Dad was a kid that never grew up. In the middle of our block near the City Club was a tavern called "Heckers". When you entered the tavern, the first 25-40 feet was dedicated to magazines, periodicals and a whole section of comic books. My Dad would send me over Heckers several times a month to find the newest issue of his favorite comic books. Because I was the person looking, I made sure he liked what I liked. He always paid. I think new comic books were $.10 per copy and I would buy of to $1.00 worth. We would always fight over who got to read the favorites first. Can you imagine fighting with your dad over comic books.
Superman and Batman were always favorites but many super heroes began to evolve. Captain Marvel had a lightning boldt across his chest and was great along with the "Flash". The Flash could run as far as Oshkosh in the blink of an eye. If you were holding a gun at him, he would dash across the room and take you gun so fast you couldn't even see it. I liked Mighty Mouse because "he always came to save the day". Slowly there was an evolution to cowboy comics like Tom Mix, Rocky Lane, and Hopalong Cassidy. The king of the cowboys was Roy Rogers with his trusty steed "Trigger" and his girl friend Dale Evans and "Buttermilk". Buttermilk? My favorite horse was Rocky Lane's "Thunder". It was black horse decorated with a silver embroidered saddle. Then there were the standard Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck and Pluto releases.
The one comic book that I always looked for and it was in limited releases was "Scrooge McDuck", the rich Uncle of Huey, Duey and Louie. He had a building full of money and he would dive from a high diving board into a "sea of cash". People were always trying to steal his money and he never spent any (I guess that is why he had so much).
So for a brief moments I have a desire to return to days of yesteryear to witness my super hero who was faster than a speeding buller, could leap buildings in a single bound and was more powerful than a locomotive. The best part was my Dad paid for it because he was more enthused than I was.
In hindsight, I wish I had kept the comic books in "mint condition" and stored them away. Then Scrooge McDuck and I would have something in common (we'd both be rich). I know the comic book trade on e-Bay is very lucrative. Certain issues of different characters are very valuable.
So again Grasshoppers, I let a fortune slip through my hands by missing "the comic book" opportunity. It is kind of like baseball cards which my Dad and I did together and we'd fight over who got Ted Williams. I'm sure that there are things passing though your fingers these days that 50 years from now will be very valuable. I just can't tell you which ones. Be Alert!
I removed snow tires today. Yep, snow is forecast for the weekend.
Love,
Dad
Your Mom and I watched the sports movie on Ernie Davis called THE EXPRESS. It was basically a biography of Davis life including excelling as football player at Syracuse following in the shadow of the great Jim Brown (who also attended Syracuse). Davis set all kinds of rushing records and in 1962 won the prestigious Heisman Trophy (the first black to ever do so). He was going to play professional football with the Cleveland Browns teaming up with Hall of Fame running back Jim Brown. Sadly, Davis died in 1963 of leukemia during the summer before he was to turn pro. He never played one minute of NFL football.
Fast forward a few years to 1966. I had my first sales engineering job with Allis-Chalmers. I would fly occassionally to the east coast to assist field sales people. On an October afternoon in 1966, I had a flight to Newark, N.J. with one stop in Cleveland. We landed in Cleveland around 5:30 PM with a half hour lay-over before flying on. I stayed on the airplane. Suddenly there was a lot of commotion coming down the aisle in front of me. There was a hulk of a man with very broad shoulders and a "chiseled" physique. He shuffled toward me and took the seat immediately in front of me. It was Jim Brown, the star running back of the Cleveland Browns. His team had won the NFL football game earlier in the day and he was flying to Newark for business reasons. I got to shake his hand and watch an airplane full of people try to get his autograph during the flight. He valued his privacy but was courteous.
So I got a brush of greatness. I knew Jim Brown's story. I think he retired that same year with every rushing record in the books after just 9 years. He quit "at the top" and went on to do movies in Hollywood. He probably should have won the Heisman Trophy while at Syracuse in the mid 1950's but being black probably had something to do with not getting the award. I still think Jim Brown may have been the best running back in NFL history.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that you never know when you will have a brush with greatness. It didn't change my life but it did confirm that Jim Brown was a real person just like you and I. He was just a little bigger, could run a little faster and made a lot more money.
Spring starts today. My snow tires come off next week. We will get a snow storm the following week. Dah!
Plant some flowers!
Love,
Dad
For those of you unfamiliar with AIG, it is the largest insurer in the world and was bailed out by our government (you and me) with taxpayer dollars in October. AIG just paid executives bonus money per their employment contracts amounting to $165 million. It does seem inappropriate with the economy so bad. But our esteemed Senator Charles Gressley from Iowa suggested that the leaders of AIG do like the Japanese by either resigning or killing themselves. Now there is compassion. When you screw up at work, "fall on your sword".
As you know Johnny Andrews passed away on March 5. Because of a nasty snowstorm your Mom and I were unable to attend the funeral services. I saw brother Jack today and he said he was over-whelmed by the turnout. There are still people sending cards interested in contributing to Johnny's memorial. It is a fitting tribute to a very gentle soul! In the aftermath of Jack losing both Mary Ann and Johnny in less than a year, he seems to be doing very well.
As Jack and I reminisced about growing up, Grandpa Jigg's (Alice's Dad) name came up. When I was 11-12 (Jack was 3 years younger), my Mother "unloaded" the two of us on Grandpa Jiggs and Grandma Helen for several weeks in the summer. During that visit to the north woods on lake Nemacogen, Jigg's had planned to shovel all the sh-- from the two hole outhouse. Human droppings fell through the holes (Gad that's gross). The toilets were located on top of a hill so that the droppings could fall through and down the hill for easy cleaning. Jigg's decided that Jack and I could shovel all the sh-- into a trailor and then we would haul it to a dump. We were given shovels and Jiggs left to do something else.. After he left I remember looking at Jack and saying "I ain't shoveling this pile of sh--". He agreed. So we ran off down along the lake shore and skipped flat stones. When we came back to the outhouse, Jigg's was shoveling. When he saw us, we turned to run away. He chased us with a pitchfork and yelled something like "come back you little sh--s". Imagine calling your grandchildren little sh--s. Grandma Helen protected us little darlings and we never did have to shovel the sh--. There must be a lesson here! Maybe it is "never shovel sh-- if you don't have to".
Today was ideal. 65-70 degrees. Bright sunshine. St. Patrick's day. Enjoy the day. Pretend to be Irish.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that as life unfolds, sh-- happens. Hopefully you don't have to shovel it!
Love,
Dad
I drove my used car made by the Bavarian Motor Works down to the Fireside yesterday. It was almost all highway driving and I got 28.4 miles per gallon. Match that!
I also discovered the difference between Obama and Jesus! Jesus could actually build a "cabinet".
I got a brochure from Road America, the road racing association in Elkhart Lake, Wisconsin. They wanted me to buy season tickets. It brought back memories of the original creation of the 4 mile track. In the 1950's, a group of local investors got together and purchased the Kettle Moraine property that Road America was built on. The featured race was called the "June Sprints". It was scheduled to coincide with the end of the college school year. College students from all over the country would descend for a weekend of boozing and babes/hunks. Elkhardt Lake on Friday and Saturday night didn't allow traffic because of all the wild students. The sprint cars were basically foreign like Jaguars, Austin Healeys and maybe a gull winged Mercedes. The race was really secondary. The "blowout bash" in Elkhart was all that counted.
I actually attended one race at Road America in my lifetime. It was 1960. I had been accepted at Marquette University and I remember the hot August day. Your Mom (who was pregnant with Grasshopper No.1) and I went to a road race featuring driver Augie Pabst along with his special Scarab race car, a truck load of beer and his trophy wife. He led the featured race and was winning by a wide margin. On the last lap, on the last major uphill grade, the Scarab puked and Augie pulled off to the side and waved to all his competitors as they drove past.
Your Mom and I were treated to tickets by Grandpa George and Nana. We picked a high vantage point so that we could watch as much of the track as possible. We discovered that there is no one perfect way to watch a four mile track. So your pregnant Mom dragged me to popular locations around the track. I don't know if climbing up and down hills and walking long distances is good for pregnant women but when you are 20 years old, you don't think about those things. Grasshopper No.1 didn't arrive for another month. She can say she attended a Road America event.
So you see, by living 3-4 miles away from Road America when it began offered me the the opportunity to watch it evolve and attend an early event. Your Mom and I were there.
This August will signal 49 years since your Mom and I walked the hills. I have never attended another RA event. No, I have no interest in going back.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that you never know when you are witnessing history. Pay attention. You may be experiencing something important.
Love,
Dad
We need a leader.
General Patton was great at leading troops through difficult situations. Winston Churchill steered England through World War II with his "never give up attitude". A leader has clear purpose and is able to get people to unite behind a significant cause.
Your Mom understands leadership. I once commented to her that I wasn't sure about the attributes of a great leader. She responded, "great leaders have followers". Dah! She was absolutely right and it was so simple. I always had this vision of leading troops up a hill (like in the war trying to capture the top of the hill). About half way up the hill I look back and notice that no-one is behind me. Obviously I hadn't sold clearness of purpose.
Our Government just passed a stimulus package that our representatives didn't even read (it was 1609 pages long and they had 24 hours to understand it). We are also spending money to shore up the mortgage ravaged banking system. Then we passed a bill to release government funds to do more stem cell research. Next we assemble a team to revise our health care system. In the meantime we are developing changes to the social security system. Don't forget a complicated "carbon credit" system for our new energy program. Mix in a formula for taxing the rich (who lay off more employees from their businesses because of the uncertainty). If we are bored, we pump tax dollars into a floundering auto industry.
So what do we do?
We "stop"! When you are lost and don't know where you are going, you stop. You stop to get your bearings. Then you develop a plan to get "un-lost". A leader will then sell the plan to all the minions. With clearness of purpose, the leader will take all the people to the promised land. One goal. Clear. Achieve the goal!
I postulate that the biggest single problem we have as a country is the economy meltdown. We need to fix our economic problems and solve them with singleness of purpose. I realize everything we do is interconnected but the fixing the economy needs to be our top priority.
So Grasshoppers, my fond wish is that someone in Washington, D.C. wake up and lead our economy out of our doldrums. Developing a program to barter carbon credits doesn't do to the job.
Is anyone listening?
Love,
Dad
A special soul moved on yesterday. John Sebastian Andrews, age 42 passed away. "Johnny" taught a lot of people about the important things in life. He fought every day of his life. My prayers go out to the family. At this moment, burial arrangements are pending. When Johnny was born, we lived in Milwaukee. I remember the joy in his Dad's voice when he called to announce John's birth. It took several days to sort out the seriousness of John's disability. Each spina bifida case is different because it involves the failure of the nervous system at the base of the spine to fully develop. I know John endured more than 45 operations.
And then I found out that my brother Jerry retired. A long time employee at a local Kohler company, he retired. My little brother retired. I know the plumbing business is struggling as new house sales have "fallen off" but it does seem strange that at age 62, as if by magic, a buyout proposal appears. Jerry was given 10 hours (that is hours) to accept or reject a proposal. He accepted. He is restructuring his life. He too will be receiving Social Security paid for by "you". How come I'm always the last to learn about these things?
My Mother always said things happen in "threes". Sister-in-law Mary Ann died less than one year ago, sister Addie May died in October, and now Johnny. Enough is enough!
Give those around you a big hug!
Love,
Dad
My favorite sport has always been basketball. I remember as a kid going to the high school gym to watch the "City" team comprised high school graduates that still wanted to play competitive basketball. There was a tall player named Hank Schuette. He was 6'10" tall and nobody else in the league could match his height. He dominated rebounds and shots around the basket. The "City" team won numerous championships. Hank was thin and lanky and looked awkward but his height "worked".
Then in 1985, our family moved to Appleton. When Grasshopper No.4 entered 8th grade, he had experienced a growth spirt. He was taller than any of his classmates that played St.Thomas More basketball. That meant he was the designated center on the team. No.4 could out jump and out muscle the other little twirps so he "ruled". I remember a game in Menasha where St.Thomas More scored 22 total points in the game and Grasshopper No.4 had 21 points by himself. Being tall "works". Alas, several years later No.4 was surpassed in height by many and slid in to a quiet life of basketball obscurity.
Fast forward to 2009. Grandson Grant in Madison is 13 years old and 6'1" tall. He is by far, a "head" taller than all the other kids in his Middleton school. It has something to do with having a Dad that was 6'6" tall. So Grant not only plays for his middle school team, he has been recruited to play on the YMCA team which is a much tougher group. He is coordinated, blocks lots of shots, steals the ball, and scores points from all over. Being the center of attention does lots for confidence. Again being tall "works".
As March Madness approaches with high school WIAA Tournament playoffs and the NCAA collegiate tournament, tall players will dominate. It ain't fair but it is a fact of life. Little guys like me can only dream of stealing the ball, shooting long 3-point shots and making every free throw to compensate for lack of height. Hey, I dreamt of scoring 100 points in a game. I dreamt of missing one shot on purpose just to confirm I was "human".
The lesson Grasshoppers is that some games like basketball reward players with height. If you are tall, enjoy the ride. If you are short, recognize that you have to develop other attributes. In baskeball, their is no substitute for the right genes.
Love,
Dad