Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 30, 2024

Catching Up / A "Leg Man"

Had a busy weekend with my Dad visting from Dayton, Ohio.  Between that and a bittersweet result in the NFC Championship game in San Fransciso, I failed to post comments on my Wordle play over the weekend.

Here's my post on the New York Time's Wordle Review comments for Monday, Jan. 29.

Wordle 954 4/6

⬜⬜⬜⬜🟨 SHONE   496 WL
⬜⬜⬜⬜🟨 TRAIL         12 WL
🟨🟨⬜🟩🟩 ELEGY          1 WL
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩 LEGGY

WordleBot
Skill 95/99
Luck 46/99
Streak 705

I’d be feeling worse about having back-to-back pars, if NYT averages the past couple days hadn’t been above 4.  Or, as my my bride put it this morning, “Wordle was rather difficult.”

Guess #1 yielded only E (out of position) for the second day in a row.  Guess #2 provided only the L (also out of position - yesterday, it was only R).  Overzealous record keeping provided guidance from Game #742 (BLEEP on 7/1/2023) that only 12 solutions remained (actually, only 5 — adjusting for previous & unlikely solutions).  I liked ELEGY best and thought it would likely ensure a par, at worst.  Guess #3 showed me I still didn’t have E & L in the right place — but that the word ended with—GY.  So, I guess it was a good day to be a “Leg Man”.  I lost to The Bot (4 vs 3) but bested the (current) NYT avg (4 vs. 4.4).  This continued the mixed emotions following last night’s NFC Championship game, where the Detroit Lions fell to the 49ers, ending their unexpectedly strong playoff run. 

And, for the sake of completeness, I will also include my Wordle results for the previous days:

Wordle 952 3/6

🟩⬜⬜🟨🟩   SHONE   7 WL
🟩🟨⬜🟨⬜   SKIED     1 WL
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩   SNAKE

WordleBot
Skill 88/99
Luck 86/99

NYT avg = 3.7 


Wordle 953 4/6

⬜⬜⬜⬜🟨   SHONE   496 WL
⬜🟨⬜⬜⬜    TRAIL      36 WL
⬜⬜🟩🟩⬜    CUBED      1 WL
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩    EMBER

WordleBot
Skill 99/99
Luck 32/99

NYT avg = 4.7


So now you're *WAY* more well-informed than you ever wanted to be about my Wordle play.  Although, if you *not* interested in that, I'm surprised you've stuck around long enough to read this sentence.

Take care and stay safe.

Friday, January 26, 2024

BLOCKed

Here's my post on the New York Time's Wordle Review comments for yesterday.

Wordle 950 4/6

⬜⬜🟩⬜⬜ SHONE   91 WL
⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ FRAUD    16 WL
⬜⬜🟩🟨⬜ WOOLY     3 WL
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩 BLOCK

WordleBot
Skill 87/99
Luck 50/99
Streak 701

Mercifully, I was spared ending my “Under Par” streak (at 7 games) until I had reached my 700 consecutive win milestone.  It was somehow easier to handle playing a mediocre game once I had reached my long-sought goal.

Guess #1 yielded only O (in position) — and Guess #2 came up completely empty.  I had a strong suspicion that today’s solution could be a double O word — and WOOLY got stuck in my head.  I had doubts that it would be the solution, but I couldn’t think of anything quickly that I liked better.  After Guess #3, I also had the L out of position — and started to consider words ending —OCK.  My first thought was BLOCK (which had not been a previous solution) and I went with it, pleasantly surprised when all the letters turned green.  I lost to both The Bot and the (current) NYT avg (4 vs. 3.8). Tomorrow morning offers another opportunity to start a new “Under Par” streak. 

My Dad arrived in town yesterday evening for a brief visit and is spending the day seeing friends and family in Flint, MI today.  Hopefully, my kids will be able to join us for dinner tonight or tomorrow.  Hope everyone has a great weekend.

Take care and stay safe.

Friday, December 25, 2020

Jim Styro's CO-MAS-19 Update, 2020-12-25
(The Photos of Christmas Past, Part 4)

Merry Christmas to All!

Since we've reached the big day, I going to keep this (relatively) brief.  I know (hope) you've got better things to do.

Today, I will present the earliest Christmas pix that I could find in my collection.  I was three years old (three and a half, I'm sure my 1966 self would want pointed out) and I believe these pictures were taken at my Grandma Wyatt's house.  Before I get to the Christmas photos, let me show you her picture. 


This photo of my Dad's Mother, Mena, and younger sister, Jeanine was taken in 1970.  As you probably surmised, Jeanine (age 24) is on the left.  Mena was 63 and would die the following year of emphysema.

Now let's get to Christmas 1966.  We're at my Grandma Wyatt's house with Dad's older brother, Don, and his family.  Don (age 39) is in the picture at the lower left with his eldest son, Don Jr. (he's about 7) and daughter, Susan (she's about 5) on the couch behind him.  You can also see the back of my head.

In the picture at the upper right, I am more prominently featured in my blue Christmas sweater.  I'm interested in the toy vehicles, Sue appears more interested in the television.


My Uncle Don's children were (and are) good-looking people - so they deserve a closer look.


And now I will offer evidence of the good-looking genes they inherited.  

First, a picture of my Aunt Yukie from the same Christmas visit, sitting with Grandma Wyatt.


And now my Aunt and Uncle together circa 1955...


They have now been married over 65 years!

Thanks to everyone who let me know that they enjoyed these pictures.  I intended to encourage folks to send me their favorite Christmas pictures in response - but I kept forgetting to include that request till now.  But it's not too late to send me a Christmas present.  All I want is your picture.

Take care and stay safe.

Thursday, December 24, 2020

Jim Styro's CO-MAS-19 Update, 2020-12-24
(The Photos of Christmas Past, Part 3)

 Welcome to this special Christmas Eve edition of The Photos of Christmas Past.

In our little hopscotch through time, we jump now to 1996 and an apartment in Wheaton, Illinois - where we find some of our usual suspects below...

Here's the scorecard.
Front row, seated (left to right) -
  • Sister #1 (age 29, married to the dude standing behind her - but let's not rush that introduction...)
  • The Girl (age 7 and unwilling to be parted from her Beanie Baby puppy for the photo shoot)
  • My Mom (age 52, mouth open to offer words of encouragement, instruction and whatever else comes up.  Hey - I am descended for a long line of loud people.)
  • Sister #2 (age 26 and all growed up from yesterday's photo.  She and my Mom were living together in the Wheaton apartment at this time.)
  • My Bride (age 33 - so I'm not using the Middle-Aged Woman moniker)
  • The Boy (age 5; that boy knows how to smile for the camera)
Back row (left to right) -
  • Sister #1's Husband #1 (age - unknown to me; my recollection is - he liked to cook and he wasn't around that long)
  • My Brother (age 32; moving to Chicago with my parents in the summer of 1982 was one of the best things that ever happened to my brother.  It got him away from all the ne'er-do-wells in Detroit that he had been hanging around.)
  • My Brother's Bride (age 27, she's one of the other best things to happen to my brother)
I have to admit that I don't have any vivid memories of this particular Christmas visit.  During this period, we were adhering pretty strictly to our Thanksgiving/Christmas travel rotation in order to split holiday time between My Bride's family and mine.  That is:  one year we would spend Thanksgiving visiting my family in Illinois - and Christmas at home.  The next year we would flip and spend Thanksgiving at home and Christmas in Illinois.  

My Bride's recollection from this particular visit was that Sister #2's boyfriend at the time decided to pick Christmas as the time to break up with her (His loss - the fool!  You can never trust a guy named Jim...)

Anyway, I know what you're thinking - Where are YOU, O Narrator?  I was taking the picture, I expect.  But just so you don't feel cheated, I will include a second, non-Christmas photo that includes Yours Truly.


Why this particular picture you ask?  Well...
#1 - It was taken in relatively close proximity to the Christmas photo (within about two months) on the occasion of the kid's birthdays - so you can just mentally paste me into that other picture.  This one was taken at our home in Redford (about a mile from the home of my Bride's Mom and Dad) where we lived for 21 years.
#2 - Along with The Boy and The Girl, this photo features Hank, my Bride's Father (age 71 in this photo).
#3 - You can begin to piece together the relentless progress of my hair loss by comparing the photo from earlier this week and today.

I think I've run out of interesting stuff for today.  

Jesus is coming again tonight, so get ready!  You don't want to miss it.  And Santa, too.  I hope they don't run into each other in the chimney.  And that they're wearing their masks. 

Take care and stay safe.

Wednesday, December 23, 2020

Jim Styro's CO-MAS-19 Update, 2020-12-23
(The Photos of Christmas Past, Part 2)

 Without any further ado, here’s today’s Christmas photo -


I will once again provide some guidance on who's who in this happy-looking group.  From left to right in the front row, let me present:

  • My Brother (age 6, with his picture-taking grin.  My brother and I are less than a year apart in age (both June birthdays; him early, me late) - and sporting the same hippie, fringe vest.  I have no recollection of this article of clothing and have to assume it was my mother's idea of progressive fashion at the time.)
  • My newborn Sister #2 (only a couple weeks old; of the entire group, she seems the most appropriately dressed for the holidays.)
  • Me (age 7 - and as good-looking as I'm ever going to get.  That looks to me like a real smile, ladies and gentlemen - not just a "picture smile".  Unlike my easy-going brother, I felt the need to button that shirt ALL the way up.)
  • My Sister #1 (age 3, and also sporting a sweet & natural smile.  She seems to be in possession of a doll designed to look exactly like her.)
Let's go off on a momentary tangent and take a closer look at that pair -


Now, in the back row:
  • My Mom (age 27, she looks quite happy.  Perhaps feeling relieved with the premonition that she has delivered her last child and won't need to go through that again.)
  • My Dad (age 26 - apart from his newest daughter, the only one not smiling for the camera.  Maybe he's just thinking about where he's going to find cash for the presents anticipated by his growing brood.  Or maybe he's rethinking the tie he picked out.)
This shot was taken in the living room of my childhood home on the west side of Detroit (near Plymouth Road and the Southfield Expressway).  Please note the prominent "rabbit ears" TV antennae in the background. That is some serious video technology.

Christmas is almost upon us - so hopefully I'll be able to come up with some worthy pictures for the rest of this week.  I'm feeling the pressure.

In other news, the headline for this item at the CNN website made me laugh in a juvenile fashion -
I think any time the word "underpants" is used in a news headline, it is funny.  I know it's a serious business, poisoning, and the guy nearly died - but I just imagine the editors discussing what term to use in the headline -

"Briefs?  No, that word has too many alternative uses."
"How about Jockey shorts?"
"No, we can't use any name-brands!"
"Underpants?"  Everyone giggles.
"Ok, I guess we go with underpants..."

That's it for today.  If I don't pick the picture for tomorrow soon, I'm going to fall behind and miss out on sharing a new photo for Christmas Eve.  And we can't have that.

Take care and stay safe.

Monday, December 21, 2020

Jim Styro's CO-MAS-19 Update, 2020-12-21
(The Photos of Christmas Past, Part 1)

Long time no see/write/read.

Only true if your sole contact with me is via blog or email.  In the past 7 months, I have proved myself The King Of Zoom (or at least, like, the Archduke).  Much of the year has been spent walking a tightrope between frustrating seclusion and irresponsible interaction.

No 'Vid here, so I must be doing something right.  I hope - think - pray...

Anyway, I read in my daily New York Times email update about someone that had decided to share a daily Christmas photo with friends & family.  I may have included some unsuspecting bystanders by posting on the Internet.  But I don't think the readership on my blog is too extensive.

So here's my first foray into The Photos of Christmas Past - from good ole 1991!


If you're reading this, you either know or can make an educated guess at the individuals pictured above - but I'll provide a bit of assistance for the uninitiated.  From left to right are:  
  • The Girl (a couple months past her second birthday)
  • The (not yet) Middle-Aged Woman [heck, not even 30...]
  • Yours Truly (oh Hair, we hardly knew ye!)  [I am currently a little more than twice as old as pictured above.]
  • The Boy (fresh out of the oven, so to speak.  A little over two months old - and wondering why he got stuck with Dad...)
This was taken in the living room of our first home on far west side of Detroit.  We had spent several years of renting in Dearborn and Detroit after the nuptials.  

While preparing this post, I noticed a small frame on the wall behind us in the picture (between the Christmas tree and my big head).  It's a needle-point which my loving Bride prepared for me many moons ago.  Maybe it caught my attention because - at this very moment - I only need to raise my eyes from my computer monitor and slightly to the left to see it more clearly on the wall just a few feet from where I'm sitting...


One more thing - I have completed a new addition to my Jim Styro's Christmas Collection mix of favorite holiday tunes.  Here's the cover graphic - and I will include a link for anyone interested in downloading an iTunes rip of these Christmas Collections.

Here's the link:  Jim Styro's Collections
The first two disks were created in 2007 with a Sacred Side & a Secular Side.  'Cause I'm multi-faceted.  And stuff...

I'd love to write more stuff - but I can only be interesting in short bursts.  Hopefully, I can be interesting again tomorrow.

Take care and stay safe.

Sunday, April 12, 2020

Jim Styro's COVID-19 Update
- Easter Sunday Edition, 2020-04-12

Oh man - I have so much to tell you...and so much time available to tell it.

Actually, that may be more true for you than it is for me.  It seems that I am an "essential employee" - or, at least, I am able to do whatever it is that I do from home.  So my schedule has not been adjusted much - at least not during U.S. business hours.

I had every intention of sneaking in a blog post last week on Palm Sunday.  But I decided that I would only post if I had completed ANY of my annual reviews beforehand.  As you can see, that motivational technique was...ineffectual.

Motivation - Round #2 was based on the same restriction (no blogging until the review were fully complete - since the deadline was midnight tonight, Easter Sunday) - but with much better results.  I actually finished and posted all the reviews last night, so I was able to sleep with a sense of accomplishment.

But now I'm starting to get ahead of myself.  Let's go back in time and review Weeks 3 and 4 of the New Normal -
  • Family photos - The Girl (my daughter) and her husband, Derrick, are currently residing with my bride (The Middle Aged Woman) and I.  The Boy (my son) is living in our previous residence in Redford, MI.  Two Fridays back now, The Boy came over for dinner and we watched Quentin Tarantino's "Once Upon A Time...in Hollywood".  But before the movie, I wanted to get a family photo that would reflect appropriate physical distancing in these harrowing times.  Below is the youngest to oldest version (Boy, Girl, Derrick, MAW, me) 

  • I found out during Week 3 that Jackson Browne tested positive for COVID-19 - but based on this article from the LA Times, he should be fully recovered by now.  [If the link doesn't work, I can send a PDF of article - just leave a request in the Comments.]
  • Exercise update:  Until the weather turned cold and damp this past Thursday and Friday, I have been on an eight-day exercise streak (4/1-4/8) - either walking 2 miles or doing the equivalent of 12-14 miles on my recumbent stationary bike.  Started what I hope will be a new streak on Saturday walking with MAW.  And today I did double duty - did 14 miles on the recumbent bike this morning before church and walked 2 miles before dinner this evening.
  • This Week(s) in Video Conferencing:  Had a bunch more video conferences during the past two weeks - for church, with friends, and with family.  My single biggest video partner has been my Dad as I helped get him get prepared to join the on-line worship at my church for Palm Sunday (he joined us again for Easter this morning), use Google Hangouts for video calls, and play the World Golf Tour (computer golf) with me on-line.  And just today, I was able to show my Mom how to receive a call from me in Google Hangouts on her computer.  I am clearly ON FIRE providing tech support to retirees.
  • This Week in Entertainment:  No Redbox rentals the past couple weekends - but I did watch -
    • Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood (mentioned above; apart from about 3 minutes of completely over-the-top violence, this is arguably his best movie)
    • Yesterday (if you love the Beatles, I highly recommend this flick)  The basic premise is: what if there is only one musician left on earth that remembers the Beatles' songs?  A world in which that band never existed.  A great "wish fulfillment" scene toward the end of the movie is almost worth the price of admission (I mean, rental).
    • Jay and Silent Bob Reboot (for Kevin Smith fans only.  I'm glad I watched it.)
  • Finished making CD for my Mom with selections from the Purdue University Choir and Varsity Glee Club (with appearances from the Morehouse College Glee Club as well).
  • Al Kaline:  Where have you gone, Albert William?  A sad day in the midst of many such.  One of the greatest players that I can say I saw live and in-person.  May be THE greatest.
  • Michigan - Top 5 with a bullet:  There are some contests that you just don't want to win.  One of those is - State with the most COVID-19 cases and/or deaths.  It seems unlikely that we will shoot past NewYork or New Orleans (in deaths per 100K population) - but it seems like we are solidly in the Top 5 - and moving up.
  • Braving Costco (or "The return of toilet paper and donuts"):  For a solid month or more, I have been unable to purchase toilet paper from my usual toilet paper vendor, Costco.  But this past Wednesday, I made a trip in the mid-afternoon and was able to sip from the sweet cup of victory.  Even better, I cruised by my favorite donut shop (which had been closed previously due to the governor's Stay At Home order) and found they have reopened.  (On a person note, I have always felt that donut-making was an essential job.  Without certain things, life just isn't worth living.)  Needless to say, the transaction was conducted at a distance (yelling my donut selections into the store) and I tipped big. 
I was going to post a picture that I call "The Easter Without Pants" - but I chickened out.  It's probably all for the best.  I will post another "Family Portrait in the Era of Physical Distancing" instead.

Hope you are staying home and staying safe.  Happy Easter!

Take care.

Monday, March 1, 2010

In like a lamb...

Well, winter is about half over where I live. Oh sure - we're having a unexpectedly nice day today.



[Please note the high temp in the 5-day forecast (in the upper right corner) vs. the current actual temperature.]

I'm going to enjoy the day - but I'm not getting my hopes up. March 31st is very likely to feature our biggest snowstorm of the year.

But MORE IMPORTANTLY: Today is my Grandmother's 99th Birthday!



I would say more - but I need to call her now and wish her a Happy Birthday.


Tomorrow: We return to "The Plan" and Jim Styro's mini-review of The Hurt Locker...and much, much more.


Take care.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

The Velveteen Tree

There was once a "velveteen" tree, and in the beginning - though it was a nice tree, with a sturdy trunk of wood, textured to appear like the bark of a real tree, and branches that would fold up if the tree was inverted or laid on its side - it didn't seem like anything special. The man and the woman that bought the tree thought they were being practical. Real trees were getting more and more expensive - and it was such a bother to deal with fallen evergreen needles or worry about the dry branches catching fire some night while the couple was not at home. Besides, it seemed a waste to buy a tree that had, until recently, been a living thing - and then slowly watch it die.

So they bought a "fake" tree; but nearly everyone who saw the tree - its branches draped with lights and garland, hung with ornaments and candy canes, and topped with a beautiful angel - thought that it was real. The couple agreed that it was a fine tree - but it was not real to them. For a while, the "velveteen" tree was only used for those Christmases when the couple would be traveling out of town during the holidays. If they planned to be home for Christmas, they would buy a real tree - and the "velveteen" tree would remain another long year alone in its box, stuck in the basement or the garage. After a few years, the couple stopped buying real trees altogether and the "velveteen" tree was used exclusively. As time passed, those who saw the tree continued to remark about how real it appeared.

The couple had a daughter and then a son. As the years came and went, the children began to hang their expectations on the tree, like so many pieces of glittering tinsel - and often found their wishes fulfilled by the boxes and bags found underneath its branches on Christmas morning. The tree was ever-present in the family's holiday rituals: decorating, photos for the Christmas card, opening gifts. Where once only mother and father could hang ornaments on the highest branches or place the angel on top of the tree, now the boy could reach those spots most easily.

And so, after many years, the "velveteen" tree became real - rooted by the hopes and dreams of the children, watered by the patient care and affection of the mother. The tree was like a part of the family each Christmas - although no one had spoken a word about it. The father didn't seem to notice what had happened. In a way, it was strange that the news would be so tardy in coming to him; for he often spent time alone with the tree, late at night when everyone else was asleep, putting gifts in place, a hymn playing quietly, the only light in the room twinkling from the tiny colored bulbs on its branches.

But on one particular night, as he sat alone and looked at the tree, he realized it was true. There was no longer anything "fake" about the tree. It was a real and faithful friend - a part of Christmas that he could count on, that wouldn't let him down. Each branch was hung with ornaments of memory, not just glass or metal or wood - memories of his in-laws, his goddaughter, his children. Each string of lights or strand of garland was a cord that helped to bind together his family and friends, with a bond of shared experience, expectation and love. He remembered again that everyone, in large measure, decides what is real for themselves - so why not decide that life is really...good.

Christmas comes whether or not we are ready for it.
Get real - and don't let it pass you by.

Take care.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

(Still) My Masterpieces

(Jim Styro's Greatest Hits)

[I am reposting this in honor of The Boy's 18th (this past Sunday) and The Girl's 20th (today) birthdays. I haven't figured out any better way to say it since June - so sue me.]

Yesterday was The Boy's graduation party. I took the day off on Friday to relax and work on party preparation; so my son and I were home together for most of the day. In the early part of the afternoon, we had a conversation (OK, it's true - I did most of the talking) and I told The Boy this:

When I was growing up - a teenager like The Boy is now, and even earlier - I wanted to be rich and famous. I figured that I would be an actor, an author, a singer/songwriter - or at least a disc jockey (I assumed ascending to that low rung of the celebrity ladder would be the worst I could do!). I would make my way in the world with my creativity - and people would know my name.

But I also wanted marriage and a family. I didn't think of these desires for fame and starting a family as being at cross purposes - but, of course, they are. And as I matured, it became an easy decision to set aside my dreams of glory in order to give my best to the reality of my wife and children. I didn't view it as a sacrifice. Just a decision - that what was most important in my life was the people I loved, the people around me - not the opportunity to be loved anonymously by the thousands (or the millions) I would never know.

Out of that decision, of course, many more arose. Some out of practical necessity, others of opportunity, others of convenience or habit. How could I best provide for my family? What sort of work could I do that would suit my personal preferences while being lucrative enough, stable enough to plan for the future. Who would hire me? How could I best ensure a steady stream of income for myself and my family?

And in this process, I began to learn my lines as husband and father, I composed emails rather than songs, wrote project plans instead of story outlines, did my DJ-ing by creating mix tapes rather than spinning records during the afternoon drive-time shift. These were not sacrifices - I made decisions based on what was most important to me.

The reward for my decisions is greater, I believe, than any film I might have made, or book that I might have written, or album that I might have released.
My children are my masterpieces.
They are bright and beautiful and loving. They're not perfect - they're still works in progress - but they are good. And even God herself, when She created the world, didn't claim much more than that.

When I compare myself at seventeen to my son, he seems quite young. Much younger than I was at that age. I think my children have been blessed to be able BE KIDS for longer than seems the norm these days. And I'm grateful for that. I told The Boy that he might not appreciate that fact now - but later in life, he may better understand and appreciate it.

I wanted my son (and my daughter) to know all that. The Boy's graduation from high school is like a sign post on The Highway; my children's lives have moved into a new construction zone. Most (if not all) of the basic work is complete. The road has been paved, the cement is nearly dry. There may be occasional lane closures from time to time for repair - but my work on the project is all but over.

Oh, I may be able to offer a suggestion on where to place the street lights - or establishing the speed limit...if I'm asked. But I'll try not to feel badly if I'm not consulted. I know there will be times when my input will not be desired - or needed. If I've done my work well, they won't need me much anyway - and they'll know when they do - and they won't be afraid to ask.

Anyway, that's what I shared with The Boy on Friday. Where the road goes from here is mostly up to him. I told my son that I didn't think he ought to do (or not do) things in his life to make his parents proud of him. Making a parent proud seems to me to be an undue burden to place on a child. I told him he should find out what makes him happy, what will allow him to be self-sufficient, how he can be a responsible member of the community in which he lives - and do those things.

That would be more than enough, I think, to make any parent proud. Don't you?

Take care.


Tuesday, July 28, 2009

RTT: Post-IT Notes
from the Knight Gathering


(A few final glimpses from this year's family reunion)




  • My Sister-S' two young daughters, the Double A's, standing in the hallway outside their room singing "Daddy took my blankie away - Daddy give my blankie back" over and over.

    [It appeared they had been temporarily evicted from the room while Mommy and Daddy packed up to check out of the hotel. The girls told me they expected to have their blankets returned in the car - but this mild protest was clearly designed to hasten the restoration of those beloved blankets.]
  • Overheard* during a card game: "You're arrogant - but in a nice way."

    [My Sister-W...to me. Every once in a while, I just don't know what to say.]
  • Cousin-A's two boys sitting in the waiting room of Mercy Hospital Cadillac - mesmerized by the Disney Channel.

    [They are both under age 10 - and it was impossible to tell from their demeanor how much they understood of their grandfather's condition in the Emergency Room. Of course, none of the adults understood much more than they did, in truth.]
  • Littlest-A (my youngest sister's younger daughter) pretending to be be a fearsome monster in front of her great-grandmother.

    [This exemplary performance took place immediately following the annual Group Photo shoot outside the hotel. Her attempts to be fearsome where somewhat undercut by her overall size and appearance, i.e. small and very cute.]
  • Sister-W and The Boy leaping up for a Nerf football like the deciding touchdown for a Super Bowl was on the line.

    [It clearly would have garnered a pass interference or unsportsmanlike conduct call from the referees (had they been present). When I called out to The Boy, "Don't hurt your Aunt-W!", he responded incredulously, "Me? Hurt her? She's trying to kill me!"]
  • Watching my mother and Sister-W playing cards together - and seeing how they have become the same person.

    [My sister is the younger model of her mother; they look alike, they sound alike, they think alike. It's kind of frightening actually.]
  • Overheard during a euchre game:

    Mom: I see you're wearing your sexy shirt?

    Sister-S: What?

    M: Well, you can clearly see...

    S: What? My nipple? I'm wearing a bra!

    M: No - but you can clearly see your cleavage.

    S: Mom - I've got no boobs!

    [As a semi-objective observer, the top was not very...revealing.]
Well, that's the news from Lake Wobegon...where the men play euchre, the woman wear revealing clothing and the children are all singing for their blankets.

Take care.

Uncle-R Update:
He is scheduled to be released from the hospital today. I will try to update Twitter or Facebook with more news during the day if possible.

* OK - she said it right to my face

Monday, July 27, 2009

Knight Gathering: It's all fun and games...

Until someone gets hurt.

Editor's note: I recorded audio for this post because my good friend, Leslie, wrote to tell me - "What I like best about your blog...your voice.....you could be on radio." And as a guy easily influenced by flattery, I had no choice but to resume recording ASAP. Hey, I need all the fans I can get!]

I have long felt that one certain measure of success in any endeavor is whether all participants have emerged unscathed. "Not getting hurt" are words by which I try to live. And while I'm the first to admit that Jim Morrison was speaking pure truth when he wrote the lyric - "No one here gets out alive" - he did not write "Everybody here is going to end up in the Emergency Room".

But sometimes Life takes us there anyway. I was there just yesterday morning.

To bring you briefly through the weekend at my family reunion: After a Friday night filled with cards and drenched with alcohol, Saturday dawned cloudy and rainy. But the forecast called for better things later in the day, so we proceeded with our plan to spend the day at Kenwood Heritage Park in Cadillac, MI. Cousins B4 & S drove over from Houghton Lake with their mom (Aunt-D) and their families. Sister-S and her family stopped to pick up Grandma on their way to Cadillac. And by about 1 PM, we were all assembled at the park. The Boy and I made a quick run to the local grocery store to pick up the 30 hamburgers, 30 hot dogs and 24 bratwursts I estimated we would consume - along with buns and condiments. As usual, I overbought - but we were able to keep the leftover meat cold and send it back to Houghton Lake with my cousins at the end of the day. After a second straight night of cards and drinking, there was some quick pool time for the kids Sunday morning after breakfast, then packing to check out.

Here's where the excitement begins. When my mom brought Uncle-R some breakfast to his room, he complained of feeling lousy. I stopped by his room a little later to check on him and he said he was starting to feel much better. He told me he'd slept most of the previous night in Cousin-A's room (so that his room with the kitchenette could be used for late-night card play) but had woken up early that morning feeling poorly and decided to head back to his room to try and get a bit more rest. Unfortunately, his room key was giving him problems and he nearly passed out in the hallway - but in the nick of time, the key opened the door and he barely made it to his bed.

Uncle-R told me things had taken a turn for the better around 9 AM - and by the time of our visit (between 9:15 - 9:45 AM), he was feeling better. So I left him to pack up my room, load the car, and get cleaned up for departure. When I emerged from my shower not quite an hour later, The Girl told me that a doctor was in my uncle's room. By the time I had gotten some clothes on, an ambulance had arrived and they had him on a gurney for transport to the hospital. He was shaking and clearly agitated (although he told me that he was not in great pain), so I put my hand on his shoulder while they waited for the elevator and urged him to do what he could to calm himself. When the ambulance headed out of the hotel parking lot a few minutes later, I was the only family member in a position to follow (since most of the others had children to look after or had been interrupted in packing the cars for checkout), so I headed to Mercy Hospital Cadillac with the Girl and The Boy.

I was able to provide the hospital staff with some of the information they needed to formally admit him and after a few minutes was allowed to go back to see my uncle. Although it was unclear what, if anything, the staff there had been able to do for him, Uncle-R was clearly feeling better. He was no longer agitated - but seemed in good spirits, teasing The Boy about wearing his baseball cap at an odd angle - very much as he had seemed to me when I visited his room earlier that morning. Both The Boy and The Girl got a chance to see Uncle-R (to ease their minds); soon Cousin-A and his wife (BK) and two sons had also arrived. I watched their boys so that A & BK could see The Patient, sending The Boy and Girl out to get some food after a bit (since The Boy had slept sufficiently late that he had missed breakfast at the hotel).

At around 1 pm, the medical staff had still drawn no conclusions as to whether Uncle-R would have to spend the night at Mercy Hospital, if he would be discharged, or some other alternative. I offered to BK that I would take their kids and mine to my Grandmother's house (about 45 minutes away) so that they would not need to worry about hospitalized parents and bored children all at the same time. This turned out to be a good plan since the decision to hold Uncle-R overnight and move him to a regular room was not made until very late in the afternoon. Although it was suspected that some malfunction of his pacemaker caused all of Sunday morning's excitement, I still can't confirm that as a fact. Doctors are also concerned about the function of my uncle's kidneys (or lack thereof) and think he may have had a heart attack.

So, at present:

- My uncle remains at Mercy Hospital Cadillac,
- My mother spent the night at her mother's home outside Evart, MI
- The last we saw Cousin-A and his family, they were passing us heading south on I-75
- The Middle-Aged Woman arrived safely home from Chicago before 5 PM local time
- The Girl, The Boy and I arrived home about 9:45 pm from the 2009 Knight Gathering...

Where almost nobody got hurt. So don't you go getting yourself hurt. Or should I say -

Take care.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Euchre as a blood sport

Every family has, I think, its own unique ways of interrelating - accepted methods of showing affection, of speaking to each other, of spending time together. I would describe the distinguishing characteristics of my mother's family in this way: simple devotion to the supremacy of blood ties over all others - combined with aggressive extroversion and fueled by intense competitiveness. If this all sounds rather pathological...well, in some ways it is. We're the people you see who have too much to drink at a party, who talk too loud, who say things they regret the next morning.

But before you, dear reader, get the wrong impression - I should add: My mom's family are also quite a tight-knit group; they are affectionate, they are playful, they are funny. They don't take any sh*t from anybody. They've got your back. I'm one of them.

One of the popular ways to pass time at our family reunions is to play cards and have a drink. Drinking is optional - but card playing is expected. And it is a rather serious business, too. The game of choice is euchre. Oh, we'll play other things: cribbage, spades, pinochle, crazy eights. But the real game is euchre.

Friday night, I was involved in two noteworthy euchre incidents. The events are rarely about card playing itself - but more how the game can be a revealer of character (or, sometimes, lapses of character).

In the first, I was playing a game partnered with my Uncle-R against my mother and The Boy. And they were kicking our @$$es. Normally, this would grate on my uncle a good deal - but he was actually taking things pretty well. In fact, what was really getting on his nerves was my mom's seeming inability to keep her mind on the game. She was oftentimes more preoccupied with providing (or eating) snacks to keep play moving forward. [Note: Euchre is a simple game played with five cards dealt to each player. The pace of play is expected to be brisk - particularly amongst seasoned players.]

By the third game, fortunes seemed to have shifted, and Uncle-R and I were finally leading by a few points. Then my mother bid a hand and, during the third or fourth trick, when it appeared she might lose the hand, reneged (failed to follow suit during play). When this was pointed out, she said she had forgotten which suit was trump (even though she was the one that had "named" trump). Anyway, this was the last straw for Uncle-R; who was more p*ssed off, I think, by my mother's inattentiveness to the game than her error. He wanted the two points that the rules say our team was entitled to. My mother was offended at his tone - declared the game was over and kicked my uncle out of her hotel room (where he was supposed to sleep that night). I invited Uncle-R to bunk in our room for the night (since we had two beds and a sleeper sofa) and the world continued to spin.

Later that same night, I got involved in another euchre game with my Brother, Cousin-A and his wife, BK. BK and I were partners against Brother and Cousin-A. By this point in the night, all of the other players were feeling no pain (I was not partaking of alcoholic beverages that night). Until Brother made a remark that aroused the mock outrage of Cousin-A and BK; whereupon they began to strike him about the head and shoulders - literally!

Now, don't get me wrong - it was kind of fun to watch. But both Brother and I were surprised by the aggressive nature of the blows. Mine was more amusement - with a few comments thrown in that I hoped I would not be the next target. Brother's was more pain and shock combined with a bit of whining (looking for sympathy that would never come). But, in any case, they gave him a few good wallops. And play soon continued as though nothing unusual had happened; and, of course, nothing very unusual had happened. That's just how we roll.

I'm glad to say that no blood was actually spilled in any of these incidents. But the reunion is far from over. You never know what might happen next.

I'm just hoping for a loaner hand.

Take care.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Knight Gathering: Day One

The Trip: The Girl, The Boy and I traveled from Redford to Cadillac yesterday afternoon. I got off work early so we were able to get on the road a little after 4 PM, each of us armed and dangerous with a fully-loaded iPod. The Girl had prepared a special 18-song Steely Dan playlist for the trip. The Boy was up next with an impromptu DJ session featuring a few current faves downloaded from iTunes (Ben Folds, Eric Hutchenson, Mat Kearney) and some prime ELO cuts. I get in a few songs at the very end of the trip from Springsteen, Was (Not Was) and Nat (King) Cole. The best part is listening to the kids sing harmony parts on a song that was popular long before they were born; all three of us wailing to Mr. Blue Sky or Route 66, for example

Arrival: Mom, Uncle-R, Brother and his family, Sister-W and her family, Cousin-A and his family were all present when we arrived around 8:30 pm local time. [Sister-S is picking up Grandma for arrival this morning. Still waiting to hear from Cousins-B4 and S.]

The kids all enjoyed the pool - the adults enjoyed having the kids entertain themselves. The Girl was a big hit in our room with all my cousins' younger children gathered around her and her laptop as she found kid-appropriate content on YouTube. I got my wireless router and Roku player hooked up in the room so the kids could watch part of a movie before bed. The adults played cards.

Which is a post unto itself. So come back soon for our next installment -

Euchre as a blood sport

Don't miss it!

Take care.

Friday, July 24, 2009

Meet the cast

The Girl, the Boy and I travel to my family reunion later today; specifically, a gathering of the progeny of my mother's parents. Since I expect my posting for the next few days will center around reunion events, let's meet our cast, shall we?

Grandma: My mother's mother is 98 years old. She'll be 99 next March 1. She lives in Evart, MI - so we hold the reunion in the nearest garden spot, Cadillac. My grandmother is one of my favorite people on the planet.

Aunt-D: My grandmother had three children. Her oldest, Bill, was deaf. He and his wife, my Aunt-D, had two children; the oldest (a boy) is my Cousin-B4 and his sister, Cousin-S. My Uncle Bill died in a car accident before I was born. His children were so small, they hardly knew him. My Aunt-D is a wonderful, gentle woman. When she was growing up, use of sign language by the deaf was strongly discouraged. She can lip-read like nobody's business. Although I have always been somewhat self-conscious when talking with her (tending to speak too loudly, instead of just exaggerating my enunciating slightly to make the lip-reading easier), I love her dearly.

Cousin-B4: is the oldest child of my generation. My great-grandfather (my mother's father's father) was William Wallace Knight (remember Braveheart?), nicknamed "The Boss". WWK was born in Scotland before emigrating to the US. His son, my grandfather, was William Wallace Knight II. My Uncle Bill, who I never had the chance to meet, was WWK III. And so you can see why I decided to refer to my oldest cousin as B4. He can be gut-bustingly funny; he also knows how to build a great bonfire. He and his lovely wife, MK, have three pretty girls. The oldest is almost exactly the same age as The Girl (Ms. Partly Cloudy, first-fruit of my loins). They also have twins. There will be no William Wallace Knight V. But if that ever caused my cousin a restless moment, he never let on. He loves his girls with a passion.

Cousin-S: is also slightly older than me. She and her husband, MN, have three boys - and (finally) one girl. Then they stopped. Their oldest is about the same as The Boy (second - and last - fruit of my loins).

Uncle-R: My mother's older brother is in his mid-70s. Some recent health problems have slowed him down a bit; but he is still the original Angry Old Man. He loves to read and collect art - but he has no room to keep any more books or prints. Although he has a prickly personality, I love my Uncle dearly. He is old-school; family comes first. Although it is never discussed, I think he has been in some measure like a father to my Cousins B4 and S. And I think he still misses his brother, Bill, after all these years. I'm not sure he ever had a better friend that his brother.

Uncle-R had three boys with his wife - then he had a rather bitter divorce. I remember as a kid being somewhat afraid of my uncle. He used to have quite a temper and - like nearly everyone on my mother's side of the family (including me) - can be QUITE LOUD!!!

Cousin-A: The oldest of my Uncle's three boys (about a year younger than me - close in age to my Brother). Along with B4, he is a premiere jokester. After a brief marriage and divorce, Cousin-A has settled down with his second wife, BK, and they have two boys.

Cousin-T: Lives with his (relatively) new bride in Washington. They are expecting their first child this summer and I don't expect them to be in town for the reunion.

Cousin-J: The youngest of Uncle-R's boys. He and his dad don't always get along. He and his wife have one son. They have been to the reunion in several years.

Mom: My mom was the youngest in her family - and the girl. So, my Uncle says, she got away with murder. She and my dad (now divorced) had four kids. I am the oldest.

Brother: Is slightly less than a year younger than me. We both have June birthdays - mine is the 29th, his is the 7th. He is a regional manager for K-Mart living outside Green Bay, WI. He used to be the black sheep of our family - but he's become Mr. Family Man. He and his wife, BW, have three kids (girl, boy, girl).

Sister-W: Is four years younger than me. She has twins, two divorces, and a new man in her life. We sometimes go for years at a stretch without seeing her at the family reunion - but she is supposed to be coming this year.

Sister-S: My youngest sister is the one we tend to see most often. Her husband and I have compatible interests; and the Middle-Aged Woman likes Sister-S better than anyone in her own family (I think); so it makes for a good double-date. They have two beautiful little girls.

Well, that's probably more than you wanted to know - but hopefully it will come in good use when trying to figure out who I'm talking about in my posts for the next couple days. When next you hear from me, I will be in Cadillac, Michigan.

Take care.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

The Scottish Play



Yep - that's me in the back row, far left. ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR matey!

Now that the play is over, I'm hoping to have more time to write. My blog output since return from vacation has been pretty shameful. But maybe I'm just facing the reality that I can't continue to stay up until 1 or 2 AM each morning, thinking deep thoughts (at least they seem so at that hour) and writing them down.

Anyway, my family reunion is this weekend - so the The Girl, The Boy and I are headed to Cadillac, MI on Friday. Although it would seem that my output would suffer under such conditions, I expect that the hotel will have free Internet - and that I can borrow a laptop from either my kids or my job.

Let the good times roll.

And speaking of roles: Next time I get to be a slob. More on that later.

Take care.

Monday, June 22, 2009

All About My Father's Day

I had a great Father's Day this year!

The day actually began on the way home from Music Night - the Middle-Aged Woman and I didn't get home until about 1 AM. Once home, I finished writing my Father's Day post about/to my Dad. Then I went to bed for a while.

Before leaving for church this morning, I remoted to my Dad's computer (I use the tool available at www.logmein.com) and left him an initial Father's Day greeting (which directed him to check out my blog post). I went to church alone (as usual), got my car washed afterward and headed home. At home, I recorded the audio accompaniment to Sunday's post.

[From the Editor: I must disgress for a moment here to ask some questions concerning THE AUDIO PORTION OF OUR PROGRAM - Does anybody listen to the posts? Or all you all just reading them? If you do like to listen to the posts, do you listen as you read - or primarily do only one or the other?

Did anyone not realize that I provide spoken versions of most posts? [The tool from Box.net that loads at the top of the page allows you to click on the MP3 filenames to listen.] Now that you know, do you think that you'll bother to listen?

I beg you - please let me know whether you find the audio posts cool or useless. They are enough work that - I need to know whether people feel they add something to the site - so I can summon the energy to keep making them available. And now, we return you to your regularly scheduled rant...]

At this point, it was around 2 PM and, having skipped breakfast, I was getting hungry. Snoplum had recently gotten out of the shower and asked if I could wait for her to finish getting beautiful (which she already was completely - but I told her I'd wait anyway). She chose that moment to present me with a few Father's Day gifts:

Thomas Keneally's Searching for Schindler (a memoir from 2007), the 20th Anniversary DVD of Terry Gilliam's The Adventures of Baron Munchausen (this and The Fisher King are my favorite Gilliam films), and the 20th Anniversary DVD of The Times of Harvey Milk (which won the Oscar for Best Documentary Feature in 1984; Gus Van Sant's latest film, Milk, with Sean Penn owes a great debt to this earlier documentary film). Did I mention that my wife has extremely good taste (and knows how to easily access my Wish List at Amazon).

She also gave me a wonderful Father's Day kiss - at which point I may have mentioned that I had a little something for her as well. This part of the day is a little fuzzy for me now; I must have blacked out due to lack of blood flow to the brain. Anyway, one thing lead to another, and the next thing I remember, I was getting dressed so we could get some lunch. The MAW and I had a fine meal at Panera and I called my Dad to wish him a Happy Father's Day when we returned home.

The kids got home later in the afternoon (The Girl, from work; The Boy, from visiting a friend) and presented me with a great card and some additional loot (golf balls and tees - which will come in handy beginning next week). We all went to dinner together and then saw the latest Pixar film, Up (which is very much worth seeing). We even picked up some donuts on the way home as a Father's Day dessert. It had been a while since we had spent that much time all together - and enjoyed each other's company with no bits of bickering or human drama.

It was really nice. I'll take another day just like that one anytime.

Take care.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

My Dad

If I didn't know any better, I would think that my father was never a child. To the best of my recollection, I've never seen a picture of my father as a child. I do have a photo of my Dad dancing with my mother around 1960 - before they were married. My Dad was 16 at the time the picture was taken - but he's turned away from the camera. So I didn't include the photo below.

I have been told that the picture to the right was taken on my father's birthday in 1963 - so this shows my Dad a little over four months before my birth. He was 19 - but with that baby-face, I think he looks even younger.

At this point in his life, my Dad was trying different jobs (working in a factory briefly, running a pizza parlor) trying to acquire the means for he and my mom to live independently. You see, I am the oldest child in my family. My parents were married in November and I was born in June (not prematurely) - you do the math.

My father and I have never discussed how the unplanned nature of my arrival on earth affected his young life - but it must have been difficult at the time.
















The next two pictures were taken about 10 years apart. At left, my Dad is pictured with my sister, Wendy (the older of my two sisters) circa 1968. On the right, my Dad is pictured in the late 70's - at the time, he was still younger than I am now. Both of pictures were cropped from larger family photos - and when I look at them, I remember that by late 1970, my Mom and Dad had four children. My Dad was 26; the same age I was when the Middle-Aged Woman and I had our first child.

By the time of the later photograph, my Dad was working for Montgomery Ward, a company that he would serve for 25 years before leaving to pursue other lucrative opportunities (getting out before Wards went belly up). My Dad worked his way up from salesman, to department manager, store manager, and regional manager. And he did quite a bit of travelling for business as his responsibilities at Wards increased.

In the early 80's, while I was living on-campus at the University of Detroit, the rest of my family moved to the Chicago area where Wards was headquartered. After leaving Wards, my Dad moved to Maryland, then Ohio as the result of job changes. Earlier this year, he retired - and I am looking forward to seeing him more frequently and getting in more rounds of golf with my Dad than in times past.





The last picture I will include today is from about 10 years ago. The MAW, my Dad, and I took The Girl and The Boy to a cider mill to see the animals, drink apple cider, and eat a donut or two. It was pretty darn cold that day - but we all had a fine time.





My Dad is a gentle soul. Although he can clearly be difficult to live with (he and my mother separated in the late 80's - around the time The Girl was born; but did not divorce for another ten years!) - my experience of my Dad is that he is a warm, easy-going and articulate fellow.

For years, my father smoked too much and weighed too much. He still does. I don't harp on him about it anymore - because I don't expect him to change. But I hope he will prove me wrong. The point is: I long ago accepted the fact that, given his habits, my Dad could die of a massive heart attack at almost any time. So I don't pass up an opportunity to hug or kiss my Dad and tell him I love him.

Writing all this down is one way of doing that long-distance. But I'll give him a call too. Just so I can say:

I love you, Dad.

Take care.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

My masterpieces

Yesterday was The Boy's graduation party. I took the day off on Friday to relax and work on party preparation; so my son and I were home together for most of the day. In the early part of the afternoon, we had a conversation (OK, it's true - I did most of the talking) and I told The Boy this:

When I was growing up - a teenager like The Boy is now, and even earlier - I wanted to be rich and famous. I figured that I would be an actor, an author, a singer/songwriter - or at least a disc jockey (I assumed ascending to that low rung of the celebrity ladder would be the worst I could do!). I would make my way in the world with my creativity - and people would know my name.

But I also wanted marriage and a family. I didn't think of these desires for fame and starting a family as being at cross purposes - but, of course, they are. And as I matured, it became an easy decision to set aside my dreams of glory in order to give my best to the reality of my wife and children. I didn't view it as a sacrifice. Just a decision - that what was most important in my life was the people I loved, the people around me - not the opportunity to be loved anonymously by the thousands (or the millions) I would never know.

Out of that decision, of course, many more arose. Some out of practical necessity, others of opportunity, others of convenience or habit. How could I best provide for my family? What sort of work could I do that would suit my personal preferences while being lucrative enough, stable enough to plan for the future. Who would hire me? How could I best ensure a steady stream of income for myself and my family?

And in this process, I began to learn my lines as husband and father, I composed emails rather than songs, wrote project plans instead of story outlines, did my DJ-ing by creating mix tapes* rather than spinning records during the afternoon drive-time shift. These were not sacrifices - I made decisions based on what was most important to me.

The reward for my decisions is greater, I believe, than any film I might have made, or book that I might have written, or album that I might have released.
My children are my masterpieces.
They are bright and beautiful and loving. They're not perfect - they're still works in progress - but they are good. And even God herself, when She created the world, didn't claim much more than that.**

When I compare myself at seventeen to my son, he seems quite young. Much younger than I was at that age. I think my children have been blessed to be able BE KIDS for longer than seems the norm these days. And I'm grateful for that. I told The Boy that he might not appreciate that fact now - but later in life, he may better understand and appreciate it.

I wanted my son (and my daughter) to know all that. The Boy's graduation from high school is like a sign post on The Highway; my children's lives have moved into a new construction zone. Most (if not all) of the basic work is complete. The road has been paved, the cement is nearly dry. There may be occasional lane closures from time to time for repair - but my work on the project is all but over.

Oh, I may be able to offer a suggestion on where to place the street lights - or establishing the speed limit...if I'm asked. But I'll try not to feel badly if I'm not consulted. I know there will be times when my input will not be desired - or needed. If I've done my work well, they won't need me much anyway - and they'll know when they do - and they won't be afraid to ask.

Anyway, that's what I shared with The Boy on Friday. Where the road goes from here is mostly up to him. I told my son that I didn't think he ought to do (or not do) things in his life to make his parents proud of him. Making a parent proud seems to me to be an undue burden to place on a child. I told him he should find out what makes him happy, what will allow him to be self-sufficient, how he can be a responsible member of the community in which he lives - and do those things.

That would be more than enough, I think, to make any parent proud. Don't you?

Take care.






















* I think this is a term commonly used by people who create collections of songs by various artists for their own listening pleasure (Think Jack Nicholson in As Good As It Gets or John Cusack in High Fidelity). But it's not a term I normally use. I just call them "collections".
** Genesis 1:31

Friday, May 22, 2009

Replacement post

I had a post here* - but it freaked out the Middle-Aged Woman - so I took it down and put this up instead:





Take care.


* It was an alternate version of this week's flash fiction story - where things don't go so well.