I have been watching the Olympic figure skating championships. I always vow not too watch but somehow I get sucked in. It plays out like a soap opera with stories of sacrifice, dedication and glory.
The Canadian skater Joannie Rochette lost her mom to a heart attack two days before her short program in skating was to begin. Her decision was to skate for her Mom. When she completed the short program successfully, there wasn't a dry eye in the house. Her Dad was in the stands with tears flowing down his cheeks, Joannie was crying and trying to "keep it together" and every Mom and Dad watching the telecast got choked up. What was remarkable is that Joannie was able to stay focussed and execute with precision. She was in third place after the preliminaries.
Last night, Joannie needed to complete the competition with the longer free skate program. She seemed more composed and excuted an excellent program. There were still tears but you could tell that there was more resolve to "skate for her Mom". When Joannie finished she blew a kiss towards the heavens thanking Mom. Joannie got a bronze medal and all Canada was proud of the effort. No she didn't get the gold. She skated the performance of her life to the best of her ability for someone she loved. What more is there?
Much of the Olympic story is about glory and big money. There are times when the human element of competition comes shining through. The big winner was Joannie and her heart felt effort. Her Mom was watching.
Sometimes good things happen to good people.
Love,
Dad
Rumor has it that "youTube" has a City of Ripon promotional piece on the baking of the world's largest chocolate chip cookie. It includes video footage of the process Ripon Foods went though to "make it happen". The City was trying to create an identity. If Ripon Foods would sponsor baking the largest cookie, the City would promote "Cookietown USA". In small letters would be "The Home of Ripon Foods". Suddenly, July 11, 1992 would become the best "Riponfest" day ever.
The cookie was to be baked at the City park on Riponfest day. The hard part was making it happen. It was calculated that the cookie had to be 1 inch thick and I don't remember the diameter (I think about 30 feet). I do know it took two large mixers at the cookie plant to prepare enough chocolate chip dough to achieve the record (over 3,000 pounds). The pomotion said that several million chocolate chips were included. The baking time would be approximately 2-2.5 hours. That is hours. Normally in our cookie ovens at the plant, we would bake cookies in 7-10 minutes. That is minutes.
The City agreed to pipe enough natural gas to fire a crude outdoor oven. It had burners under a metal round rotary oven plate along with burners over the top. Our Ripon Foods employees volunteered to spread the cookie on the oven (it took over an hour). The biggest fear was that the cookie would not properly bake and "rise". It was a heat transfer challenge.
It turned out to be a beautiful day and the cookie got baked. I don't remember how many thousands of hot cookies were consumed. The City got lots of favorable "press coverage" and Ripon Foods got to pay the bills and feel good. Nobody ever wanted to figure the costs of the cookie production but $20,000 would not be an exaggeration. Sometimes you can't measure an effort in dollars and sense. In terms of community pride it was priceless.
The Guiness Book of Records had representatives on sight to verify the "World's Largest Cookie". We were certified and entitled to look in the next issue of Guinness to see our name. The record didn't last very long. I think the next year somebody baked a bigger cookie. For a moment in time, the Ripon Foods cookie had the record.
Then Ripon Food's "love" relationship with the City changed when the "Foods" was sold in 1999. Hey, no love affair lasts forever (oops, some do).
The whole city of Ripon got a sugar high that day and were part of a little bit of history.
I was there!
Love,
Dad
It seems to me that Tiger Woods wants his life back. It starts with a statement (without questions) today. It will be a lifetime of dealing with reference to smut, sluts, and sleeze.
It seems to me that you are really angry at the IRS when you write a 3000 word suicide note and then fly your airplane into the local IRS office. My anger never reaches that point but I know that "fairness" seems to be disappearing from the tax process and it is so complex (even with computer software programs) that no-one can understand it.
It seems to me that if the government is going to use my tax dollars wisely, building train service between Milwaukee and Madison is not part of the consideration. Couldn't the money be better used to reduce debt, create incentive for people to build their own businesses or provide tax relief. Hello!
It seems to me that the political "hacks" that scream "global warming" don't know what they are talking about. I am for a clean environment and acting responsibly about pollution. No-one and I mean no-one completely undersands the evolving "world" environment. I have heard estimates as high as 1 new coal fueled electric power plant is "coming on stream" each day. Have you ever seen the smoke coming from a coal plant. China is doing just as it pleases. Somehow my recycling a plastic bottle seems insignificant.
It seems to me that the Russian male figure skater that finished second to the American skater in the Olympics is a poor loser. He has his "shorts in a bunch" because the American couldn't do a "quad jump". Excuse me! There are almost 7 minutes of other skating that count too.
It seems to me that the participants of the Olympics are more concerned about fame and fortune than trying to excel at their sport. Lindsay Von (the female downhill skier) won gold with the first of 5 events, is projected to realize $50 million over the next few years. Of course doing a bikini photo-shoot for Sports Illustrated didn't hurt. Shawn White, the snow board expert, has turned his gold medals in the "half-pipe" into an $8 million per year business. No wonder athletes cry when they lose.
It seems to me that I am the only sane person in this world with clarity of perception. Why doesn't the whole world see things as clearly as me? Oh well!
The lesson Grasshoppers is that everything is not as it seems. It pays to think for yourself.
Love,
Dad
My Grandma Myrna was the only person on my side of the family that kept any kind of records about the "Andrews" history. There were pictures, newspaper clippings and post cards. Myrna would tell many stories about the Andrews side of the family. I could always trace her side of the family (Roberts) back to England in the mid-1800's. The Andrews side of history was "fuzzy".
Myrna's husband was Charles Elmer Andrews. His dad was Elmer Andrews married to the "first" Addie May. Then history is vague. Elmer Andrews owned an 80 acre farm around Mukwonago, Wisconsin west of Milwaukee. I think the courthouse in the county that contains Mukwanago would have a lot of information but I've never taken the time to do the research.
I do remember Elmer Andrews. He died in 1950 when I was ten years old. He lived out the end of his life at the City Club (his last 10-15 years). He is the one allegedly to have fathered twins in Canada but I never really confirmed that.
I quizzed Myrna about the history of the Andrews family "before Elmer". Her answer was that they were descendants of Connecticut Yankees. What the hell is a Connecticut Yankee? The standard definition of a "Yankee" is an inhabitant of New England. So a Connecticut Yankee was defined as an inhabitant of the state of Connecticut. The term Yankee probably comes from the Dutch term of "Little John". "Yankee" was also used to refer to pirates but began to be applied to to New Englanders in general. Yankee characteristics include shrewness, mechanical ingenuity, and individualism. Yup that is "us". Connecticut Yankees have long been famous as entrepreneurs, inventors and peddlers who drive sharp bargains. The first Yankee settlers came from Great Britain (including Scotland).
So if Myrna was right, our "Andrews family tree" traces back to early America with roots in Connecticut. We seem to have been farmers and sheep herders. I don't know about the pirate accusation. I know there are a few "bandits" in our family. Beyond early settlers in Connecticut, we trace back to the shores of Europe probably England and Scotland.
If you want any more history, you will have to do it yourself. I would begin with the Andrews family history records in the Mukwonago, Wisconsin courthouse. Then it would be a clue by clue discovery process going generation by generation. Good hunting.
I don't know if I've made things less fuzzy but the only thread of verbal history I can remember was Connecticut Yankee.
Stay Warm.
Love,
Dad
In case you live on another planet, you realize that Sunday is Valentines Day. Women especially proclaim that you don't need to spend good money on something special. Don't you believe it. Everyone, and I mean every one likes to be remembered on Valentines Day.
I was doing my exercise routine at the Mall this morning and couldn't miss a brand new Audi Sports Car on display. It is bright red plastered with all kinds of white hearts that read "I'm yours" or "Call Me" or "Be Mine". It is a model S5 two door heart throb that can go from 0 to 60 miles per hour in minus two seconds. It lists for $60,000 before taxes and destination charges. I'd swear the car has my name on it.
If a sports car is too rich for your blood, you can get 4 chocolate covered strawberries from Godiva Chocolates for $25. That amounts to $7.50 per strawberry. Chew slowly. For that price, it should "stir your soul".
If you are really strapped for cash, making a Valentines Card by hand and writing you own poetic verse tugs at the heart strings. It might be more rewarding than the car because it reflects your personal effort.
I request that all you Grasshoppers be my Valentine. You are all special in a unique way.
I am working on my income taxes using Turbo-Tax. I thought that when you retire, the government was supposed to support me. It ain't working that way. It does look like there might be a slight refund but not enough to afford the chocolate strawberries.
This weekend you should hug that special someone, let him/her enjoy your valentine and grab the remote. Between the Olympics, the NBA extravaganza and the Daytona 500 NASCAR race, it should be an exciting weekend. We are mid-way through February. Warm weather and sun are on the way.
Your Unconditional Valentine,
Dad
Grasshopper No.3 had a birthday on "Super Bowl Sunday". That doesn't seem fair. Birthdays should be separate and special. I won't say how old he was but he accidently made out a check to Fleet Farm dated Feb. 7, 1964. You know where his mind was.
Your Mom and I had committed to watching Grandsons Mitchell and Grant play one of their league basketball games. Last Saturday was the day. It is obvious that their skills (and size) have improved over time. Grant always gets recognized for his size but Mitchell is the biggest player on his team. I was always "a little guy" in grade school and had to fight to play on the team. Mitchell and Grant get "automatic bids" to be on teams because they are tall. Sh--!
Mitchell's team lost. The other team ran "fast breaks" on offense and made lots of layups. By the time Mitchell's team slowed down the opposition, they had fallen way behind. Mitchell did his part during the comeback. He scored 10 points, got lots of rebounds and finished with a spectacular "3-pointer". He only wanted to talk about that last 3-point shot.
Grant's team is bigger, faster, and well coached. Grant of course is the center. His team has "set plays" that allow other players to cut and slash by using the center as a "hub". Grant scored 10 early points with easy lay ups and jump shots. He probably had potential 10 points that rolled tantalizingly around the rim and fell off. Grant's team won "big".
Time goes fast. Next year Grant is a freshman in high school. He will be competing with many more kids. Somehow I think being 6 foot 3 inches tall will get him on the freshman team. Hell, he might even play "first string".
The Saturday basketball routine took me back to my basketball days when I played junior high basketball. Smelly gymnasiums. Lots of kids shooting basketballs during the time-outs. Games were "helter-skelter" ragged contests with many fouls, double dribbles and kicked balls. Ah yes, it was grand.
My respect goes out to all the parents who provide taxi-service and moral support to the aspiring basketball players. Enjoy the moment! It will end all too soon and you'll wish you could do it again. I think I just explained the dilemma of of life. It goes by all too fast.
I lost a $2.00 bet on the Super Bowl to a Grandchild. I didn't follow my own advice. I picked the Colts so the opposite team always wins. The Saints victory is a good story.
Shovel fast!
Love,
Dad
Go Jack Bauer, go. Your Mom and I finished Season 4 of the hit series "24" and we are part way into Season 5. That means that TV programing stinks and watching "24" is the best alternative.
Grasshopper No.4 has purchased the current Turbo-Tax software. I have started the same process. The software does all the calculations and formating but you still have to gather the information for data entry. There is always some bank or government agency that sends information after you finish your taxes. Don't file to quick. To those of you who might profit from "cash only jobs", be sure to report the income on your tax forms. Remember you are on the honor system (especially you Sheboyganites).
This is a free year for those who die and leave a sizeable estates. Last year, your estate if you died, would have paid federal and state estate taxes on everything over $7,000,000. All estate taxes have been eliminated for this year only. So for those of you with large estates, this would be a convenient year to pass away. You people with large estates, you know who you are.
This is Super Bowl weekend. People buy new HDTV's just for the occasion. Just making the Super Bowl the highlight of your weekend is symbolic of winter blues. I picked Minnesota and the New York Jets to be in the Super Bowl. Yep if you had ignored my picks and picked the other teams, you could have won a lot of money. So if you want to make a ton of money on the Super Bowl game, pick against me. I pick Indianapolis.
The good news is that the days are getting longer and when the sun comes out, it melts sidewalks and driveways. Summer is not far away.
Have a nice weekend.
Love,
Dad
Rumor has it that Grand-daughter Dano's Mercury "puked". It is vintage 1992. Originally it belonged to Nana and Grandpa George. They babied it and drove it very few miles. When Nana couldn't drive anymore, Debs bought it. And now 18 years later, Dano has it. A faulty transmission appears too expensive to fix. The car will either get donated to the "Rawhide Boy's Ranch" or get scrapped.
Now to the Dodge. My Grandma Myrna never learned how to drive. Her husband Chalk drove a Buick until he died in1946. For several years after he died, the 1940 Buick sat in the Garage in back of the City Club. It Myrna had to go somewhere, she paid a bar-room patron to drive her Buick. Myrna liked the independence of owning the Buick even though she couldn't drive. Then after she married husband No.2 (Chuck Andes), he talked her into replacing the Buick with a black four door Dodge (I believe it was 1950). So now instead of a Buick sitting in the garage, a Dodge sat in the garage. It had an automatic transmission with fluid drive. I called it "slush-o-matic". The engine would roar, the fluid transmission would take forever to shift and it would go from 0 miles per hour to 60 miles per hour in 2 hours.
When I turned 16 in 1956, I got my drivers license but I didn't have a car yet. Grandma Myrna would let me drive her to do errands. Being a young kid, I always knew that the Dodge was in the Garage so I would pester Myrna to let me use it. She was a "softie" and most time I could get the car. I took the car on dates and used it to cruise up and down the main streets of Plymouth. I eventually got my own car but whenever I needed alternate transportation, there was always the Dodge.
Then 3 years later, brother Jack got his drivers license. He began to pester Myrna to use the Dodge also. Jack logged a lot of miles on the Dodge. He also drove it more aggressively than I did. He "pounded" it. Wouldn't you know that he would run the car out of oil on one of his excursions. The car was 10-11 years old. Myrna never got the engine fixed and so ended the story of the Dodge in the Garage.
My brother Jerry never got to use the Dodge (he can blame Jack).
The lesson Grasshoppers is that most of us have a car story from when we were growing up. Myrna's Dodge in the Garage is one of my fond memories. The fate of Dano's Mercury and Myna's Dodge appear to be the same. It is called "scrap heap".
Puxsutawney Phil (the famous groundhog) saw his shadow this morning. There will be 6 more weeks of winter. Stay warm.
Love,
Dad