I was traveling south yesterday towards Fort Atkinson when my fine European automobile (at least the accelerators don't stick) had a warning light displayed on my dash control panel. I had my co-pilot look up the meaning of the warning in our 227 page instruction book. Did you catch that? 227 pages! After fooling around with buttons and lights, I determined my oil was down one quart (imagine my panic). What do they expect when oil changes are scheduled 15,000 miles apart?
Why can't I have my simple instrument panel back. Oil pressure was on display. Engine temperature was on display. Most people checked their oil when they got gas by pullling out dipstick. I dare you to lift your car hood and even find the dipstick. Simple works.
Our Camry has escaped the "sticking accelerator" recall. 2005 was a very good year.
The Fireside program was a 50's and 60's music review. Lots of toe tapping music. I'd recommend it to anyone.
Tomorrow night is a full moon. All you gals can fire up those broom sticks and I'll look for long broom handles and pointed hats in the night sky. Lots of wickedness on display. Strange things happen on full moon days.
I've got to keep this blog short so I watch the end of "The Electric Horseman". The horse goes free and the girl leaves Redford. Can life get get any better?
Stay warm.
Love,
Dad
I watched Brett Favre take a pounding Sunday. New Orleans made sure he got beat up. When he got tackled or "bumped", the defensive line man would make sure all 350 pounds came down directly on Favre. Again and again and again. By the end of the game, I was still encouraging him to get up like the warrior he is but secretly I had the hope that he would just stay "down".
"Stay down"? You are talking Favre. In the third quarter, he personally thought he might have broke an ankle. He almost crawled to the sideline. They retaped the ankle, probably found some pain killers and there he was, running back onto the field. You are talking "heart" here. His Dad had taught him if you can get up, you can play. The team depended on him. All it would take was a few more passes for a win. His competitive juices were flowing. His team was depending on him.
And then when the game was on the line at the end, Favre had the chance to use his head as he rolled out to pass. All his receivers were guarded. He could try to force the ball to a receiver (as he always did in critical moments) or he could have limped 10 yards forward because nobody was anywhere near tackling him. The limping 10 yards foward would have given his team a chance at a field goal by Ryan Longwell (who is terrific in critical situations) and a trip to the Super Bowl. We witnessed the famous "brain fart". Favre tried to force the ball down the field and it was intercepted. The game changed on that play. So many games changed in the late moments because Brett thought he could do the impossible. Now the Vikings can wait until next year to see if he will return. Packer fans know the feeling.
I will say this! Favre is fun to watch. He may be the toughest son-of-a-bitch I have ever watched. In Brett's view, the game isn't over until the clock runs out. He has had the enthusiasm of a little kid. He is "human". He has tasted victory but way too many defeats. Favre is always standing at the end of the game. After 309 consecutive starts, he may just be the "last warrior". He is a good guy. He is my hero.
We will know in August whether Favre will play again. We will have to wait again? Yep we will have to wait again.
Stay warm.
Love,
Dad
Being able to endure pain is symbolic of being "macho". Some people handle pain better than others.
I have had a "low grade" pain in my lower jaw for a month. It usually means that a tooth is abscessed and eventually forces a dental "root canal". The pain can reach levels that force you to offer your first born for relief. Yesterday my troublesome tooth began "pounding" and pain killers didn't help. I think I had tears in my eyes. So much for "macho man".
My regular dentist was gone. His son was covering for him. Usually that means doing some-thing temporary until his Dad gets back. Not in this case. Within an hour, the existing crown was popped off my tooth, my mouth was numbed with novacaine and most of the infected root was extracted. A temporary cap was put on the tooth and several weeks from now the root canal will be completed (along with a brand new crown). I know that root canals run $800 and new crowns another $800. The exorbinant costs make me angry. Having my life back without pain is priceless.
On top of incurring large dental costs, my free lunches have run out. Our Christmas gift card to our favorite restaurant has been used up and I have to begin using my own money. Awwwww!
This weekend sets the stage for the Super Bowl. The winner of the Jets/Colts game will play the winner of the Favre/New Orleans game in the big event in Miami. There is a lot of complex analysis that can take place but the truth is that a couple fumbles or interceptions can determine winners. I believe "quirky" destiny will prevail. Wouldn't it be interesting if Favre's team made it to the Super Bowl and had to face the New York Jets (the team he dumped after one year). The ultimate irony would be that the Jets then beat Favre in the Super Bowl. No. No. Say it couldn't happen! You have just received by prediction.
By the way, I am not a macho man. I have no desire to be a macho man. Just call me Whimpy. Make the pain go away!
Stay dry this weekend.
Love,
Dad
It has been almost two weeks since Nana passed away. There remain lots of detailed issues that need to be resolved on her behalf.
All of the friends and family that made contributions to the "Nana Memorial" need to be acknowledged. That means lots of "thank you" cards. The money needs to be directed to the proper places.
The financial affairs of Nana need to be finalized. It sounds easy but someone has to figure out her monthly expenses (starting with her checkbook) and then estimate expenditures up to the date of her death. It involves lots guesses.
Don't forget notifying important agencies. Social Security. Medicare and Medicade. Banks. Utilities. Some of it requires a Certificate of Death to prove legitimate action.
The Funeral Home needs to be paid. Nana had the foresight to set up a "funeral trust" into which money was placed to cover final expenses. The question is "was enough money put into the trust"?
The IRS doesn't forget about Nana. She is obligated to file a tax return for 2009. Collecting necessary information to file on her behalf sounds easy but with all the medical programs that she was involved with, it could be very complicated. Nana only lived 6 days during 2010 but my guess is the IRS is going to require a final return at the end of this year. Nana is probably smiling because she don't have to worry about the IRS any more. I wonder, if she doesn't file, will they put her in jail?
Nana didn't have too many personal possessions anymore, but I'm sure there were memories attached to some items. In some cases her wishes for disbursement were known. In some cases a guess has to be made.
I know Mom has begun sorting out many of Nana's pictures. Nana cherished family pics especially those containing Grandchildren and Great-Grandchildren. I think some distribution of the photos will be made.
Finally there is filling the void created when anyone special leaves us. It is the memories that sustain us.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that all our lives are intertwined with complexities of the world. There are lots of detailed pieces at the end. The good news is that the departed no longer have to worry about them.
Love,
Dad
I finally got my car washed this morning (using a another free coupon). It now goes faster and burns less gas.
Grasshopper No.5 got her grey car washed (it was again red after the wash) when she got here from Minneapolis last Monday. She knew she could park the clean car in our garage for a day and it could thaw out. I don't want to say her Mini-Cooper is small but it takes up less room than my snow-blower.
On the way home from Nana's funeral, Grasshopper No.5 was in the backseat. Family stories were being shared. I noticed that No.5 constantly had her eyes directed downward. The stinker was twittering her friends with her Blackberry (or equivalent). She pretended to be listening but was busy doing other things.
In business, the power of the electronic revolution has long been recognized. Instant communcation has helped companies serve their customers with amazing efficiency. The internet is their friend.
As you know, electronic devices make the internet available to everyone. Powerful home computers and wireless phone devices now make instant transfer of information available to you and I. Is that really a good thing?
I don't think ADD (attention deficit disorder) is an inherited condition. We train our kids and our population to have a the attention span of a new puppy. It starts with e-mail. Factor in blogs (yes I'm guilty), podcasts, and e-books. I know that Grasshopper streamed 3 seasons of Dexter on her home computer. Then there is twixing, tweeting and twittering. If need more diversions, you can always plug into Facebook.
When do people bond? Whatever happened to "eye to eye" contact? We keep inventing an infinite number of ways for people to p--- away time.
Come on people, read a book. Exercise at your local gym. Walk the dog. Have meaningful conversations with the people around you (real eye to eye contact). There is a real world out there. Stop figuring out ways to waste time.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that we live in a world where wonderful communication devices exist. Use them as effective tools. Don't let the internet rule your lives.
Love,
Dad
Nana's funeral was memorable. Family and friends came from near and far offering spiritual support. I know that Nana was there. I know she was smiling. Trust me, I know!
Lois, the last of Nana's siblings, was at the funeral. I was determined to coax some Kruschke family stories out of her. Lois tolerated my questions with a quiet confidence which reminded me of Nana. In fact, Lois' whole demeanor was reminiscent of Nana. The way she held herself. The way she sat. The way she stood. The twinkle in her eye.
When I met Nana and Grandpa George 55 years ago, I was an intrusion in their life. Being an outsider to the family, I would constantly hear stories about the Stegers and the Kruschkes. It was confusing. It took me awhile to figure out that with 9 children in Nana's family and 8 children in George's, I might never get all the names straight. So I began a "name association" process that had a lyrical ring to it. It became "Amie and Franklin" (Amie was the oldest Kruschke sister). When Mom would tell me Amie was coming to visit the family I would respond with "who"? You know, "Amie and Franklin". Yep I got it. I needed Franklin in the title. I remembered the whole family that way. Love and marriage. Horse and carriage. Lyla and George. Chet and Lois.
For me, Chet will forever be part of Lois. As I began to talk to Lois yesterday there was a similar life pattern to Nana's that began to evolve. The beginning years were farm. There were the "living years" which included earning a living. Wouldn't you know that Chet and Lois owned their own retail business for auto parts (known as NAPA). Most of the sales were to other businesses. Lois was the "bookkeeper". Her memories include hours and hours of trying to find out why the general ledger system was not balancing. It meant finding differences of several pennies. Why spend all that time balancing the books? Because that is what you do. Nana would relate that same story as she tried to reconcile the "sheet metal books". Actually your Mom would agonize over ledger sheet errors at Mooney and Mooney Law offices. Talk about family traits!
Lois was slow to share stories with me. I asked her if there had ever been any family fires? Nope! Were there any car accidents in the early days? Nope. Had any of the Kruschke kids fallen through the ice? Nope. And so it went. Provocative questions followed with a cute grin. I gave up.
As your mom and Grasshopper No.5 were taking down the bulletin board in the Church basement, they asked Lois if she would like any of the pictures. She noticed one of a young Nana sitting on the fender of an old model car. Lois said she remembered the family car. It was a Whippet (I think I got the spelling right). Whippets went the way of the buggy whip. Lois said they took the Whippet to church one Sunday and while the family was in church, a fire broke out around the engine compartment. A "passer-by" saw the fire and immediately threw dirt and gravel on the fire to put it out. When the family came out of church, the front of the car was covered with sand and gravel. My intense questioning could not find that story. A single picture on a bulletin board got the whole deal. It was a car story. It was a family crisis. The story had the history I had been looking for. Maybe I need more pictures in my life.
After a short time with Lois I think I can finally drop the word association game with Chet. Lois and Nana are now etched in my mind. There is no doubt Nana and Lois are sisters. Oh my, they are sisters.
Love,
Dad
Every now and then, a family member comes along that endears themself to everyone. Nana was one of those people. Her "passing" will create a void that will be tough to fill.
She had an unconditional acceptance of "family". Growing up as one of eight children created a sense of belonging. Living on a farm requires family members to share and pull together.
It all began with Nana's value system. Respect for everyone. A common sense approach to life issues. Integrity. Unconditional love.
Her work ethic was "just do it". She made you feel a "little bit' guilty when you procrastinated. You had to get a job. You had to earn money. You had to do meaningful work. That is what you do.
She honed life skills to survive. She could "can" fruit and vegetables for use over the winter. She could stretch potatos further than anyone I've every known. She knew how to butcher animals for meat. She could sew, knit and macrame. She could harvest crops and she nutured one of the best flower beds in Plymouth.
Along the way she lived life. She married another farmer and had 3 children. Nana and George ended up in Plymouth because of a family connection. Walter Rienhold. Wouldn't you know Rienhold was in the sheet metal business. It wasn't long before Nana and George bet everything to start their own sheet metal business. For two farm people, succeeding at business was a tremendous accomplishment and sense of pride. She was always humble about their business success.
And then there were the Grandchildren, and Great-Grandchildren. Lots of them. She paid personal attention to each and everyone making them feel important. Nana was involved when each of you Grasshoppers were born and remained that way.
Nana earned her way to the top of the family pyramid. She was bestowed with the nickname "Nana" and was universally loved by all family members. It was understood that nobody else could assume that name. There was only one Nana. She had become the matriarch of the family.
In the later years, her visits to our house included "food-fests". Your Mom and Nana would make potato pancakes the old fashioned way, she would eat my whole grain breads and consume our Johnsonville summer sausage.
I'm going to miss the twinkle in her eye, her presence at family events and my annual birthday card.
I know that Nana made this a better world. She was a credit to everything she did. She was the embodiment of "family" and everything it means. We are lucky to have had her in our life. She will be missed.
Love,
Dad
There are milestones in the aging process that trigger financial change. For example, once you turn age 62, you qualify for reduced Social Security benefits. At 65, you become elgible for Medicare Insurance. The final step is that at around age 66, you will be entitled to full Social Security.
This year, I turn 70 and by October I reach 70.5 years of age. The IRS requires mandatory withdrawal from any 401(k) or IRA (Individual Retirement Accounts) in the year you turn 70.5. There is a formula that determines how much a person must withdraw from all his accounts. It starts at approximately 5% of the value of the accounts at age 70.5 and escalates to 10% of the remaining values at age 90 (yeah right, I'll live to be 90). This means I now have to pay taxes on my "mandatory" withdrawals. As Grasshopper No.5 would say "darn".
If I have the facts right, I do not get an increase in Social Security this year because "cost-of- living" is so low. I don't know about your world, but I haven't seen many reduced prices. My medical insurance for prescription drugs has increased. Now I must withdraw 5% from retirement plans and pay more federal and state taxes.
I admit that I knew how the tax laws affect retirement income. The 70.5 age withdrawal rules are stated very clearly in every retirement document. Like everything else, as long as I hadn't reached 70.5, the rules didn't apply to me. Now they do.
The good news is that I got to protect retirement"savings" from taxes for up to 25 years. Savings do grow at a faster rate if you do not have to pay federal and state taxes when you set the money aside.
I must say my financial year is starting out very well. Grasshopper No.1 sent me homemade chicken soup for my cold, Grasshopper No.3 bought me a breakfast and a car wash (part of Christmas) and Grasshopper No.5 paid for lunch at Hu-Hot (part of Christmas). I guess all these "free-bees" offset my financial difficulties. Keep it coming!
The lesson Grasshoppers is that 401k (and IRA) plans are just one part of retirement planning. When used effectively, they can be powerful tools. Learn the rules.
Love,
Dad
There is something positive about beginning a New Year. It is a time to "wipe the slate clean" start anew.
There are several New Years Days that stick out in my mind. The first was at the City Club. Anyone that owns a business knows that you have to "take inventory" at the end of the year. It is necessary to calculate the cost of goods that were sold during the year and calculate profits correctly. My Grandma Myrna shut the City Club down on Jan.1 each year to count inventory. I would help her. It involved counting barrels of beer, candy bars, bottles of alcohol and lots of food products. In the basement of the City Club was a room that was padlocked. The room contained bottles of brandy, vodka, gin and many upscale liquors. When a bottle of brandy was emptied at the bar while serving a customer, someone had to go into the locked basement room to procure a new bottle and bring it upstairs for use. Only Myrna did this. Apparently many bottles of booze had been pilfered over the years and it resulted in a locked room with only one person having a key. There must have been 500-700 bottles neatly orgainized on shelves in that basement vault. Each bottle was worth from $5-35 each. New Year's Day centered around the counting of booze bottles. Of course roaming wild in an empty bar room on New Year's was fun too
The second New Year's day I remember was at the Stegers who lived on Plymouth Street "on top of the hill". They purchased one of the first real color TV's in Plymouth. It meant they could watch the Rose Bowl Parade in "living color". They must have been really rich! The Stegers would invite several friends to join them and of course I "horned in". It was a big deal. The Rose Bowl in color on TV! It meant munchie foods and beverages of choice. Two to three hours were always filled with ooooh's and aaaah's. Only the privledged got to watch. Interestingly, many years later, Grandpa George and Nana went out to Pasadina to visit George's brother Clarence and the highlight of the trip was to personally attend the Rose Bowl Parade.
Yes, I will watch part of the Rose Bowl Parade today. I have to. History beckons.
Maybe you will be able to make this New Year's Day a "memory". I hope your New Year is prosperous and rewarding.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Dad