I'm a day late with this posting. Golf took priority. I played my first 18 holes of the year. The sun was shining and I only lost 2 balls. Luckily Grasshopper No.1 and family gave me new Nike balls for Christmas so the loss cost me nothing. I did have one memorable shot (the kind Grasshopper No.4) always complains about. I mis-hit a ball towards the water. It skimmed across and hit a rock on the other side of the creek. The ball bounced in the air, landed on the green and I made the putt for a birdie. Isn't that what is supposed to happen?
May 28 marks my Dad's birthday. He would have been 89. Theoretically he could still be here giving me fatherly advice. Hummmmm?
Grandson Mitchell in Madison has a brand new cast on his right arm. Something about a bike accident! The worst part is that his Mom was the first to sign his cast. It said something including "Love, Mom". That is not something you show all the kids at school who also sign the cast. Life has it's difficulties. Embarrassing.
There are two American car companies that are in bankruptcy (GM & Chrysler) and Ford is on life support. So I took inventory of the cars owned by our familes. I had trouble finding an American automobile.
Grasshopper No.5 has a Mini-Cooper made by BMW in Bavaria. Nope, no U.S. tag here.
Grasshopper No.4 owns one car, a Hyundai. I think it is Korean.
Grasshopper No. 3 has a Saab and his kids have a Honda and Volvo. I don't see an American tag on any of them.
Grasshopper No.2 has a Nissan Murano. Japanese?
And then there is Grasshopper No.1 and Family with a Chevy and a Ford van. Finally loyally supportive to American products.
And of course your Mom drives a Camry (Japanese) and I have the BMW.
By my count, we have a total of 10 cars in the family, 8 are foreign models.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that people buy quality, dependable cars at fair prices. Our family car inventory supports that fact. American car makers have been out of touch with reality for years. So we the taxpayers, lend money to mis-managed companies in hope of saving the U.S. car manufacturing albatross(es). Kiss that money good-bye!
Love,
Dad
There have been many movie sequels, none more memorable than Freddie Krueger in the Elm street series. Freddie kept coming back to frighten everybody. Again, and again.
We had our own neighbor from Hell at Crystal Lake. His name was Floyd and he did anything he could to make life miserable. He threatened legal action when our pier allegedly blocked his view of the lake. He got the DNR to render an opinion against us. He planted trees on our lot line and he raked debris from his beach onto our lake frontage. He constantly sat in his cottage watching every move we made so he could police our actions. Bastard.
Apparently Floyd has a relative in Madison living behind Grasshopper No.2. For those of you who have visited her, her home sits on the narrowing piece of a "pie" shape and her back yard broadens out and slopes upward away from the home. The houses to the back are very high above her and have a view of the valley below. The problems is that Grasshopper No.2 has very little privacy. So she got a deal from a local tree nursery and planted 12-15 foot trees along a line well inside her back property line. Several neighbors behind her expressed displeasure because they just didn't like the trees.
"Floyd II" lives in one house high on the hill behind. When Grasshopper No.2 was not home, Floyd II took it upon himself to trim down the tree tops bothering his view. So now Grasshopper No.2 has a line of trees with 3 trees shorter than the rest.
Obviously there is not going to be a lovefest with the "rear" neighbor (Floyd II). A police report has been filed because personal property has been damaged. I don't think Floyd II has confessed or ever will. Maybe homeowner insurance will kick in but even if the three trees get replaced, what will prevent Floyd II from cropping the tree tops again. The fight is on!
The tragic part of the whole ordeal is that it makes life a constant battle. It is an ongoing negative. I know my spirits would drop when I knew Floyd was present at the lake.
The lesson Grasshoppers is you can't choose your neighbors. If you encounter a reincarnation of Floyd from the cottage, don't let the bastard wear you down. Exercise your legal rights.
Love,
Dad
I spent the week getting ready for the Memorial Day weekend at the cottage. I waxed the bottom of the Glastron boat and tomorrow I'll launch it. Last weekend I put in the dock by myself. Where the hell were all our kids?
I turned on the water system for the summer several weeks ago. It took an hour to get the "sand point" system filtering good clean lake water. I mowed the grass, washed some windows and put screens on the doors and selective windows. Where the hell were our kids to help?
I went out to Menards to pick up extra life preservers, a fire extinquisher for the boat and some towing ropes for water skiing. I bought some things for smaller kids to play with like goggles for diving, floating toys, shovels/buckets along with some extra lawn chairs. Where were our kids to haul all this stuff home?
I just got back from taking the boat to gas station to fill the 20 gallon tank plus I filled up three auxillary gas cans. Did I mention a special trip to our local boat dealer to get outboard motor oil to mix with the gasoline. I don't remember the correct ratio of gas to oil. Where were our kids to help?
As the cottage season begins, the refrigerator needs to be restocked. My trip to the grocery store includes pickles, ketchup, mustard, soda, buns, snacks and meat for grilling. I forgot the charcoal. I paid cash and my receipt says $235. Lots of bags. Lots of 6 packs of soda (and beer). I filled up the trunk of one car. Where were our kids?
Tomorrow morning we will all pile into the car with the boat hooked up behind and trek to the cottage. Everyone has a different intention for how the day will unfold. Did I mention that several kids brought friends to enjoy the weekend.
Can this be right. Tomorrow (Saturday) they are forecasting rain. Oh, sh--! There go the plans. The fantasy is in jeopardy. Wait, we'll switch plans to Sunday. Oops! We can't run our outboard motor boat on Sunday. Only sailboats are allowed. Then I remember we can run our motor boat on Sunday until the second weekend in June. This is getting complicated.
We arrive at the lake. Our neighbor Floyd has planted some trees on our lot line. Floyd also raked all his weeds and debris from his frontage onto our sandy beach. What a guy!
Undeterred we clean up the mess from Floyd, the boat fires up, kids jump into the water, brats hit the grill and the summer begins. Now I know where all the kids are. They are here!
By now you know I am only dreaming about days gone past. The cottage life represents a different fantasy for everyone. Despite all the preparation and work, we were lucky to have the special place with the best location on the lake. It was a fun time.
Wishing you an enjoyable (non-cottage) Memorial Day weekend.
Love,
Dad
Congratulations to Granddaughter Keely for graduating from FVTC on Sunday. Her business career is well on it's way. Next on her agenda is two more years of school after which she will take the business world by storm.
I was recently talking to Grandson Grant about school and what kind of a job he might want in the future. He is good at math. It is obviously too early to be definitive but careers in electronics and engineering interest him a lot.
Many years ago, I was attending UW-Oshkosh (it was known at the time as Oshkosh State Teachers College). I was intending to major in mathematics with minor emphasis on chemistry and physics. The goal was to be a teacher because I am so patient with kids. Yeah, right!
I kind of knew that teaching was not my "thing" but I wasn't sure about alternatives. Then came the decision to get married as I ended my second year at Oshkosh. My future father-in-law (Grandpa George) inquired whether I had ever considered a career in engineering. Having worked at his shop in the summer for several years, he knew my math skills. It turns out he and Nana were willing to help me to pursue engineering at Marquette. Suddenly in a matter of several days my teaching aspirations were "in the rear view mirror" and Marquette was bracing to accept the best engineering talent they had ever had. This "change of course" was George's (and Nana's) idea. All I remember is that the decision felt right. Engineers were in high demand and earned a pretty good starting salary (my first job was $570 per MONTH). Best of all I didn't have to endure the bureaucracy of the school system and all the germ infested little darlings.
You never know when something is going to change your life path. In my case is was Grandpa George suggesting a different career option. I still wonder how my life would have turned out if I had stayed with the teaching curriculum at Oshkosh or if I had left school after two years to support my new family.
The lesson Grasshopper is that your world keeps changing and you never know when a life altering event is going to occur. Grab every opportunity you can.
Love,
Dad
I came across Margaret's high school "letter jacket" with the numerals '96 on the leather sleeve signifying the year she graduated. I didn't realize dancing was an official sport? The Xavier letter is sewed on the front of the jacket with the word "Academics" proudly displayed.
As a kid in high school, I could not get a letter jacket until I earned my first athletic letter. This was a big deal especially if your Dad lived and breathed sports. You could earn a letter by playing 48 minutes of football during a season, 32 minutes of basketball or 9 innings of baseball. "Track" required winning a certain number of points awarded for first, second or third finishes. I wanted a jacket. It was a goal. It was a big deal. It confirmed that you were a "big jock on campus".
If you earned a letter as a freshman, that was an incredible achievement. Almost nobody did that. Earning a letter as a sophomore was special. As a sophomore, I "started" on the football team as a defensive safety and an offensive end. I got my first letter in November of 1956. The letter entitled me to acquire a jacket which my parents gave me for Christmas. Plymouth was unorthodox because the "P" letter was sown on the back of the jacket rather than the front. The letter had a small symbolic football stitched into it indicating the sport in which it was earned. The next year our football team went undefeated so we got a big white football patch to sew on the front of the jacket with "Champions" embroidered within. Because it was my second consecutive football letter, I got to place two large stripes (like the military) under the football patch. My final football year, we again went undefeated and I got to place an updated football Champion patch on the jacket and a third stripe.
My jacket was becoming a major work of art. Something to be worn proudly around school. Now the irony. It was common practice to let your girl friend wear your jacket. So this "prize" that I had worked so had to earn ended up in the hands of your Mom. Hey, sharing my special jacket witht the special person in my life seemed appropriate. I went on to earn many other "letters" in basketball and baseball but the football jacket "creation" was always special.
Like so many things in life, my letter jacket just disappeared. It was in closets gathering dust and it got moved several times as I took different jobs. It was gone. The jacket is like my favorite high school convertible Oldsmobile. It would be nice for one day to drive that car again. It would be nice to wear the letter jacket one more time.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that there are things in life that seem important at the time. In the end it was the participation and the achievement that were important. The jacket just verified the endeavor. It was a testimony to my "ego".
Wear your jackets proudly!
Love,
Dad
Your Mom and I scheduled a visit to Mawqwet (Collin's pronunciation) in Minneapolis on Mother's Day. It is just coincidence that our visit to Minneapolis fell on that special day. We intended to enjoy the onset of Spring. No, this was not the journey into Hell.
The hotels in downtown Minneapolis have different room rates depending on conventions and community events. Mother's Day weekend at the hotels is like a ghost town. Needless to say the room rates were fantastic. It turns out that the AARP membership did not help in getting a better rate. I think that everyone over the age of 50 has a card and it really isn't unique to cater to an AARP member. The "biggie" card is AAA. Grasshopper No.1 (and loved one) gave us an AAA membership for Christmas. Magic! So on top of your Mom using AAA for road service twice in the last couple years, we got a great hotel discount. This obviously was not the journey into Hell.
Mawqwets cat Indigo started moaning the minute we got to her apartment on Friday night. I know we upset people, but I didn't think we had that effect on cats. So Friday night was an adventure. Turns out that Indy had an infection in his urinary tract and actually had crytalized urine that had to be removed at the emergency pet clinic. No this wasn't the journey into Hell. Indy seems to be responding well to anti-biotics and "different" cat food. As Shelby Jr would say, we created a memory saving Indy.
The journey into into Hell occured on Sunday morning before we left Minneapolis. There is a popular restaurant called "Hell's Kitchen" in downtown. It conjures up the image of something sinister and for years it was a very small diner with great food. They have moved to a new location near the Nicolett Mall. You have to descend a flight of stairs to get into "Hell". At the top of the stairs is a chandelier completely filled with dangling knives that you walk under as you enter. The basement had lots of red colors suggesting what Hell looks like. The waitresses wore pajamas as if to indicate things were very casual in Hell. The food was fantastic (and reasonably priced). It was memorable. Mawqwet took her Mom to Hell for Mother's Day. I resist embellishing that thought. She created a Mother's day memory.
So your Mom and I are back from Hell. A special Thank You to Margaret.
The lesson Grasshoppers is you never know when a memory will be created. It could be when you are changing a tire in the rain, escorting Indy to the Clinic or having breakfast in Hell. It is part of the journery.
Love,
Dad
The smell in the air is changing. You can see the buds on all the trees exploding as leaves begin to form. Moisture in the air is heavy. Crab trees are beginning to blossom. Lilacs will shortly be in full bloom. The days are getting longer. I think they calll it Spring.
Mom's Day is Sunday. Remember that you (described at a large bowling ball or watermelon) passed through a narrow passage at great pain and suddenly you were given your life. You were nutured with great care and have become the stunning success you are because of one person, Mom. So if you are smart, you will remember the one person who loves you unconditionally and always will! You were lucky to get a great Mom.
Your Mom and I went to see Bobby Vinton at the PAC Sunday night. Who is Vinton you ask? He is a musician from the 1960's. He is called the Polish Prince. His Dad had a polka band in Pennsylvania and Bobby took over during high school years. I have to admit that lots of the audience had grey hair but I saw lots of old ladies dancing the polkas and "rock 'n rolling" in the aisles. Fun night.
The experience of owning a "used" Bavarian Motor Works car is interesting. All maintenance including brakes and wearing parts are warranteed up to 50,000 miles or 5 years. There are no incidental charges. Yesterday I took my car in at 19,000 miles to replace the micro filters that protect all passengers in the cabin from undue polution. Absolutely no charge and I got a free car wash. Cool. My next scheduled maintenance for oil and bleeding air from the brake system is at the end of 2010. It is part of the upscale car experience. Hey, it beats replacing headlight bulbs in a Saab every month or two. At least my car company is still in business.
As Spring "happens", open your doors and windows. Let the sun shine in. Breath deeply. There aren't many advantages to living in Wisconsin but the onset of Spring is one of them. My favorite memory was living on 6th street and our bedroom window faced west. There happened to be a backyard full of lilacs to the west and when the wind blew that fragrance through the house, you wanted the moment to last forever.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that is okay to feel the promise of Spring. It is the great part of being alive!
Love,
Dad
Something good happened Saturday. The Kentucky Derby attended mostly by the pretentious rich was held in less than perfect conditions. Yep, sloppy, muddy yuk! One of the horses not owned by the Arabs was hauled by a pickup truck from New Mexico and entered in this race against "giants". Wouldn't you know the "little guy" named "Mine The Bird" won at 50-1 odds. The owner had to limp on crutches to the winner circle. The toothless jockey must have had a drink or two before the race explaining his crazy exhuberance. It is actually a better story than "Seabiscut". And in the end, the Arabs loaded their throughbread steeds into their modified jet aircraft and zoomed back to the middle east. Money can't always buy every-thing.
Yesterday, the movie star Denise Richards (recently on Dancing with the Stars), sang "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" at Wrigley Field in Chicago during the seventh inning stretch. It was worse that Roseanne Barr's rendition of the National Anthem. It was like scraping fingernails across a blackboard. Ugly! I think Charlie Sheen made the right decision when he divorced her.
I was exercising this morning when I noticed that Victoria's Secret store was advertising to stimulate Mother's Day sales. Now I ask you "what kid would buy their mother frilly under-garments for Mother's Day". I know I would not have considered buying Grandma Alice something dicey from Victoria's. What did I miss?
And then the New York Yankees with the highest prices in the world had heavy rain last night. A large number of fans hung around for several hours and were informed by "attendants" that the game was called. No game tonight. Some were just starting home when they heard that the game would be played inspite of the rain. The ticket policy is "if you leave the stadium, you can not get back in with the same ticket". So people who were told there was no game, could not get back in. Sorry, no bending the rules. Policy is policy. So the stadium which was 90% empty would not let loyal fans paying $200 for tickets back in. Is the world nuts?
The lesson Grasshoppers is that "common sense" seems to be a fleeting personal trait. It is the reason our world seems to a "bubble off center".
Love,
Dad
Are some things in life inevitable? Do some people have the ability to "see"or predict future events. Does destiny exist?
When I was in high school, the end of the summer was always signaled by the County Fair in Plymouth. Labor Day weekend was synonymous with the "Fair". I remember one year, the Fair featured a midway ride called "the Hammer" with a rotating cage swinging like a pendulum at the end of a long metal arm. It would swing in a circle with the people being "upside down" at the top. My buddy John Z. wanted me to go on the ride with him. I watched the ride for a while before answering. It was considered "wild and reckless" at the time. As the ride swung in wide circles, the thick cables that held the Hammer in place would move slightly under the pressure. I would not go on the Hammer. The next day, the Hammer broke loose from the restraining cables and fell over. A buddy of John Z's was killed. The question in my mind was always "did I have a premonition or was I just scared". I will never know. Was it my destiny to avoid being killed in a Hammer accident?
There was a baseball player, Jack "Lucky" Lohrke that just died at age 85. They called him Lucky because he kept surviving "death situations". He survived D-Day while four soldiers around him all died. In 1945 he was going to board a military transport to fly to California for a trip home and he was bumped at the last moment by a high ranking officer. The plane crashed and all were killed. In 1946 he was riding a bus with minor league baseball teammates, the Spokane Indians. Halfway through the trip, Lucky was notified he been promoted to Triple A San Diego. He took his baseball gear, left the bus and proceded to hitchhike home. The bus and his former teammates proceded on and crashed on a rain slicked highway. Nine players were killed. Lucky eventually played major league baseball and lived to age of 85. Was destiny involved?
The lesson Grasshoppers is that you will always have events that make you question whether destiny shapes your future. You will never get an answer? You will be left to ponder? Woooo!
Love,
Dad