Things have a way of resolving themselves

One of the best friends I ever had - or expect to have - died early last Sunday morning.  He had not been sick for a long time - but long enough that his death was no surprise.  And still a shock.

One of the penalties of getting older (and there are several - though offset, I hope, by other benefits) is that people that you have known for a long time will pass away.  When my uncle died this past August, I realized that part of what I was losing with his death - apart from a loving uncle that would do ANYTHING for me - was one of the few people remaining on the planet who knew me before I knew myself.

With Len's death this week, I've lost another person in my life that I could count on - whatever the circumstance.  I've lost a man old enough to be my father - who treated me like a brother.  I will miss his wit, his eloquence, his precision, his warmth - his voice.

I will miss helping him get into the church on Sunday morning.  I will miss checking on him when a worship service ends.  His death is not real to me yet.  I  don't know when that moment will come.  Maybe it won't come all at once.  Maybe it will take a long time.  But - as Len often said to me - "These things have a way of resolving themselves."  Whenever I hear those words in my mind, it will be Len's voice that I hear.

I take comfort in memories of my friend.  Len was a man who knew that it took more effort and preparation to speak with brevity - and when he said "I will be brief," it was a promise you could count on.  I remember singing beside him for so many years - and with Gene Thompson and the late Phil Haddrill.  I learned how to sing beside these great men.  And I remember how Len would let his mischievous side show - making a comment in a stage whisper during rehearsal - perhaps one of the other sections stumbled or sang off-key - and when asked to repeat the comment, Len would cough and say "I was just clearing my throat".

Beyond my memories, the Lord has comforted me with these thoughts:  Knowing that Len and Maggie have been reunited after so long apart; That the pain and fear which Len experienced during his time in the hospital are over; That my good friend has now been able to hear his Lord speak to him those words that I still hope to hear someday - "Well done, my good and faithful servant".

I only hope that I can live out the remainder of my days in a way that would make Len proud.  And I hope that everyone who knew Len will find comfort in memories of him - having faith that the same God who allowed Len to be a part of their lives has not abandoned them in this time of sorrow.  Let us live as people who have hope of reunion with our father, brother and friend.

Take care.

The Song Is Over

"I drank for four days and four nights...

and then I fell through a window.

I was bleeding - but I was forgetting."

-- Oscar Madison (from Neil Simon's The Odd Couple)

People who are involved in theater productions - be they actors, technicians, directors, stage managers, you name it - these people are all familiar with a phenomena akin to postpartum depression.* Since being in a play is not as intense or solitary an experience as pregnancy (or so I imagine, having never been pregnant myself), the let-down afterward isn't nearly as severe - and, the sense of emptiness is eased because it is common to everyone involved. But, as with all good things that must come to end, there is still a feeling of loss, a void that must be faced.

For me, being cast as the lead in a really good play was a dream come true. And to be cast as Oscar Madison in The Odd Couple was like being able to hand-pick the dream. The play had it's original run on Broadway when I was a pre-schooler - so I can't remember a time before the archetypes of Felix Ungar and Oscar Madison existed. I grew up with the movie and the TV show. I loved these characters in the way a child can truly love a fictional character, half-expecting to perhaps meet them one day, like a favorite sports figure or a movie star.

"Of course - if you're going to kill yourself,

where's the safest place to do it?

With your friends"

-- Oscar Madison

Can't get any better than that, right? Actually, it can. The way you improve on perfection is to share your dream with good friends. So you ask one of your closest friends, a guy you've know for nearly 30 years, to audition for the role of Felix. And he gets cast in that part. And you get another friend, who you've known for about 20 years, to audition - and he gets the role of Oscar's policeman buddy, Murray. Now, since the play only has eight different roles, you've got an excellent shot at a stellar cast. After all, the director has already shown her good taste in casting the leads and one of the supporting players. But she does even better than that - she casts all eight roles flawlessly. [In the end, you even forgive the director for not casting your wife in one of the two female roles; since she ends up being even more valuable to the production by handling props, setting dressing and being the stage manager - all in one!]

"Don't say 'Alright'! I want you to promise me

you're going to try and have a good time..."

--Oscar Madison

So the (dare I say it) stage is set. But you've still got to learn the 456 lines of dialogue. You've never done anything close to that before. You've got to learn to work together with the other actors - the ones you've worked with before and the ones you haven't; some who are already your friend and others who will become a new friend. You get to take off your pants on-stage. And throw plates of fake linguini. And figure out how to rip apart bags of potato chips so they make a nice mess and open cans of beer (OK, really just Diet 7UP) so they will spray everywhere. You pick out pre-show music (from the early to mid-1960s, heavy on Henry Mancini and Frank Sinatra) to put the audience in the mood.

And then you get to perform it all in front of a bunch of people - and try to get them to laugh.

But you only get to do that six times over two weekends.

Because, eventually, you have to allow your life to revert to being just "mostly out of control" rather than "completely out of control". More's the pity. Still, it was really fun while it lasted. And there's always the chance you'll get to do it again somewhere down the road.

"How about next Friday night?
You're not going to break up the game, are you?"
--Oscar Madison

Tuesday night, four of us got together to strike the set. We removed all of the remaining props and costumes from backstage, we loaded all the furniture that had been loaned for performances into the back of the MAW's Pacifica and delivered each piece back to the owners. We removed every trace of Oscar Madison's apartment from that stage.

I got home and turned on Turner Classic Movies in time to see the end of Billy Wilder's Some Like It Hot. Then they did a nice segment on Sidney Poitier. I should have been writing a blog post or balancing the check book. Or sleeping.

But The Odd Couple came on. I watched the whole thing. Again.

Take care.


* If you've ever really suffered from postpartum depression, cut me some slack.
I did say "akin", not "just like".

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.

Friends in Need

Today would have been Maddie Spohr's second birthday.
My lovely wife, the Middle-Aged Woman, wrote the tribute below.
If you have the means, please consider making a donation to help families with at-risk infants.
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I don't think there are too many people reading this who didn't have their heart broken on April 7th of this year. That's the day we learned that Madeline Alice Spohr, whom we all knew as Maddie from The Spohrs Are Multiplying, was suddenly taken from her parents, Heather and Mike, when a respiratory infection coupled with a collapsed lung was more than her 17-month-old body could fight. Thousands of people across the country mourned with Heather and Mike, and thousands came to their support by donating to the March of Dimes in Maddie's memory.

Since then, the Spohrs, along with family and friends, have created Friends of Maddie, a fund dedicated to supporting families of critically ill or prematurely-born infants during their stay in the Neo-Natal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) with supplies, help finding temporary lodging (because the NICU isn't always within commuting distance of home), and by creating a network of support.

Friends of Maddie uses your donation to put together Support Packs for families who find themselves overwhelmed with the care of an at-risk newborn. The packs include items such as reusable water bottles, snack bars, tissues, mints, and most importantly, a tri-fold binder with a note pad and accordion file to keep track of paperwork.

"We're hopeful it will make it at a little easier for parents to keep track of everything," Heather says."You get SO many papers, business cards, etc., every day, and it's hard to keep track of everything."

She should know, she lived the experience. Maddie's sixty-eight-day stay in the NICU is chronicled on Heather's blog and her husband Mike's blog as well. Readers across the country followed every setback and every victory. What message would she like to pass on to parents in the same situation?

"Patience. Take things a day at a time and live in the moment. Don't look down the road or things will get REALLY scary and overwhelming," shared Heather.

The reaction to the packs has been terrific, according to Heather, "We've been getting a FANTASTIC response from everyone! We weren't expecting such a big response so we are really behind in getting back to everyone, but it's a good problem to have!"

• By now, you are all wondering how you can help, right? I knew it. You people rock. Your options: Donate! I know, the economy is bad right now, but every little bit helps. Or...
• Let your local NICU know about Friends of Maddie, or...
• Do you work for a company that might bring a valuable service to NICU parents? Contact FoM! Or...
• Just spread the word! Write a blog post! Send out a tweet! Y'all know how this works!

Mike and Heather's loss is unimaginable. In spite of their grief, they have found a way to pay forward all the love poured out from thousands of hearts across the Internet. Tell your friends about Friends of Maddie.
**************************************************************
Take care.

Sunday Dinner Every Night

My good friend, Paul, enlisted my assistance a few weeks ago in putting together a video for entry in the Food Network's The Next Food Network Star competition.



[Since the code from YouTube doesn't seem to be working (never had a problem before), try clicking here for the video...]

I helped him with the script and worked behind the camera. His lovely wife edited the video (great job trimming it to exactly 3 minutes!). And we all enjoyed the lamb ragu.

I'll let you all know when it's time to vote for Paul as The Next Food Network Star!

Take care.

"The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in our stars..." *

In response to yesterday's post, my friend Pamela from The Dayton Time said...

"And here I was, thinking the problem with the golden rule was not with the golden rule, but that people don't practice what they preach."

I must certainly agree that what is wrong with followers of The Golden Rule is far more severe than any flaws that exist in the rule itself. Or - as the late Fred Rodgers might say -

"Can you say 'hypocrite'? I thought you could!"

That Pamela is one sharp woman. Yes, she is.

Take care.


* but in ourselves" --Julius Caesar, Act I Scene II

...how would you like to be The Boss for awhile?*

"It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer. Charlotte was both."
Charlotte's Web, E.B. White

I consider myself lucky that the best boss I ever had also became one of my best friends.

Apart from the fact that we have very similar personalities, there are three reasons why I think of Chico as my best boss:

1. He's an extremely intelligent person - who didn't lose his common sense along the way.

2. He understands the importance of making decisions at the right time - even when you can't be sure the decision itself is right.

3. He knows that the most important part of any organization - is the people.

For someone in a position of authority, this last point is critical. It has become a cliche in job interviews to make a statement like "I really enjoy working with people" - but how many who make that statement really mean it? Or, to look at the point from a different perspective: Who wants to work for someone who really doesn't value other people? (Not me.)

I've learned several valuable lessons from Chico over the years - both as boss and friend. Here's a few of my favorite bits of Chico philosophy (some are pretty much direct quotes):

- I would never screw you for the company; I would only screw you for my own personal gain.

[The importance of people over organizations reduced to a nutshell - and leavened with a believable measure of self-interest and/or humor.]

- The people who run the world are the people who show up.

[As they say with some give-aways: Must be present to win.]

- In a dispute with a woman, sometimes it's best just to ask her - "Honey, what's the right answer?"

[A close companion to that strategy is this idea:
Some things are more important than being right.]

It's not often that someone comes along who is a good boss and a true...
Oh hell - you get the idea!

Thanks, Chico. And to all you loyal readers and listeners out there -

Take care.


*Title courtesy of Randy Newman

We're Back

The Middle-Aged Woman and I arrived home from Petoskey, MI on Friday night after a wonderful week there with Leslie and Larry - celebrating Independence Day, golfing, eating, talking, shopping. Mostly relaxing. MAW took the pictures - so check her blog for the visuals.

Today, I return to work and the normal routine, well-rested and ready-to-go. As soon as I'm done typing, I'm going to get in some exercise time to start the work week right. But first, a few random updates from the weekend.

- It was great to get back to martial arts class on Saturday morning. It felt good just to sweat (profusely), to see good friends I had missed, and have a leisurely lunch afterward.

- The opening performance of the Macbeth farce at the Motor City Youth Theater Saturday night was nerve-racking (for me - because I had missed the last week of rehearsal) but turned out well. Two good friends came for the show and were able to hang out afterward and visit with the MAW and me. It was nice.

- The weather was so nice Sunday, I asked The Boy if he wanted to go golfing. Although we golfed at the Twilight rate (which allows you to play as many holes as you want while the sun still shines), he wanted to stop after 11 holes. A surprise - but I don't think he was having fun (despite parring the last hole).

- Watched Vicky Christina Barcelona last night. It has its moments - but the whole thing doesn't really go anywhere, does it?

I plan to return to regular posting now that vacation time is over. Hope I've got something interesting to say.

Take care.

"Why don't you give yourself over...to Pleasure?!"

Jim Styro's Meaning Of Life, Part Thirteen

I'm just about smack dab in the middle of a two-week vacation. So far, I have enjoyed myself immensely - golfing, talking, eating, golfing, drinking, listening to music, golfing, shopping, watching films...and golfing. Tomorrow, Larry and I plan to...go golfing. The truth is that we have been ordered to go golfing by our wives - because they want go putzing around in thrift shops tomorrow and don't want us messing it up for them. I secretly suspect that Larry would prefer to hit the thrift shops with the women - but I figure we can hit the thrift shops too (after our round). So hopefully, I can make it up to him.

It will be my sixth day of golf in the past eleven days - which is certainly a personal best for me (depending on how you look at it). I've actually been slacking in the Golf Dept. since we got to Petoskey last Thursday - but there's no way I could have continued the torrid pace of play from last week (five rounds in six days) without my arms falling off. Anyway, I love golf - not because I golf well - because a golf course is just a beautiful place to be. Beautifully green, well-tended, often with rolling hills, trees, a pond or stream here and there. It is the height of luxury, I think, to spend a few hours where the only concern is trying to knock a small white ball into a slightly larger hole.

That thought leads me towards a whole series of ideas concerning enjoyment, vacations, pleasure and leisure, which all touch upon the question:
What is The Secret to enjoying yourself?

We've touched upon some aspects to the question in our past MOL discussions -

You've got to know what you enjoy, what will make you happy.

You've got to align your expectations to reality.

It helps to have people around you who desire your happiness and want to share it.

But being in my current circumstance (in the middle of a two-week vacation with good friends, no responsibilities and the means to do nearly anything I desire) highlights one overriding consideration concerning The Secret:
Will I allow myself to have a good time?

For in much the same way the a person can look a golf course and appreciate the natural beauty, feel exhilaration in the challenge of the game itself, or just enjoy a few hours spent with a buddy in the fresh air - another might focus only on shots that went awry, the cost of the golf balls that were lost, or how fast/slow the greens were playing. Any of these elements may reflect the reality of the experience - but our enjoyment of the experience is based just as much (if not more) on which elements we CHOOSE TO focus on.

Why would we EVER choose to focus on the negative aspects of the experience? Perhaps because the overwhelming majority of elements of an experience were "bad" (or did not meet our expectation). But is other cases, it may be that our attitude was not shaped by the experience (we don't feel good because so many bad things actually happened) - but rather, our attitude shaped the experience (we "knew" beforehand things would go badly, things happened, we decided they were bad, repeat Steps 1,2, and 3). Maybe I don't really believe I deserve a nice vacation. Maybe I don't think I've earned the right to enjoy myself. In my experience, people don't always need a good reason to punish themselves.

So perhaps the first element in enjoying yourself is to remember or decide that - it's OK to have a good time. It's allowed.

Perhaps this is only an issue of middle-aged, white American men - but I doubt it.

Lest you be concerned: I am not having any problems along these lines. In the words of Elwood P. Dowd, "I have a wonderful time, wherever I am, whoever I'm with." Of course, Elwood drank.

But so do I.

Take care.

PS: I may write some more about this. Or I may be having too much fun on vacation. You never know.

Personal best

My vacation started last Friday, June 26. In the six days since then, I have played a round of golf all but one day (Monday - my birthday - when we drove home from Greenbush to Redford). And on four of the five days I played, we shot a full 18 holes. So I've played 81 holes in the last week. I've never played golf five out of six days. I may never do it again. But it certainly raises the bar for future golf planning.

Tomorrow, we drive to Petoskey to spend the week with our good friends, Leslie and Larry, at their condo. Although I expect to do lots of different things over the next week, my one critical duty will be to provide suitable films to watch for periods of inclement weather or days when a quiet evening at the condo is desired. I always take way more video that could possibly be watched. It's my way of keeping options open.

Here's what will go in the movie bag:

Gran Torino - Clint Eastwood's latest, filmed (in part) around Metro Detroit where I abide. Of the four of us, only Larry has already seen it.

Ken Burns' documentaries, The Civil War & The War (WWII) - Leslie had been reading a novel set during the Civil War and desired additional background. Nobody's better at making history interesting than Burns.

Frost Nixon - Nominated for Best Picture last year with great performances from Frank Langella and Michael Sheen. I believe I'm the only one who's already seen it.

Swimming to Cambodia - Leslie and Larry weren't familiar with the late Spalding Gray (who the MAW and I love) - and their children are currently traveling in Thailand and...Cambodia.

Lonesome Dove - Larry mentioned he hadn't seen it. Most likely, too long to undertake - but you never know.

The Dark Knight - L&L haven't seen it. And they count on me for a good comic book movie now and again.

State and Main - A good comedy is always important to have ready. And I'm the only one who's seen this one.

Burn After Reading, Thank You For Smoking, Lars and The Real Girl - Three more comedies, because I'm the King of Video excess. Each of these has a different mix of funny and touching - with the Coens Brothers leaning more cerebral (as always) and Lars being on the opposite end of the spectrum.

The Times Of Harvey Milk - Because I haven't purchased Gus Van Sant's Milk yet. And that film owes a debt of gratitude to this earlier documentary.

The Adventures Of Baron Munchausen - Because I got the 20th Anniversary Edition for Father's Day (along with The Times of Harvey Milk).

A River Runs Through It - I love this movie. A great story of family.

Harvey - Perhaps my favorite move ever. A comedy - with heart.

Well, it's getting late - and I've got a big drive tomorrow. I hope to keep posting while we are out of town - but access to the Internet may be limited.
Keep a look-out for me. And I'll try my best to stay in touch.

Take care.

All You Ever Wanted To Know AboutThe Spinner Invitational

(but were just too smart to ask)

-or- "How Nineteen Guys Got Owned By One Girl"

The 22nd Annual Spinner Invitational, held each year at the Bay Valley Resort, was a rousing success again this year. The 2009 Golf Festival was held last Friday and, despite the fact that my Twitter posts were few, uninformative and generally without merit - the overall event went off without a hitch.

Invitees met at 9 AM for the Past Champions Brunch to bulk up for the grueling day ahead, find out the handicaps and groupings for the event, and hear some words of advice from the reiging champion.


Brunch was held (as it has been for many years) at the Exit Restaurant in Birch Run, MI. The 2009 group photo below was taken just outside that establishment. Please note 2008 Champion Ed Kirt in the left center of the front row. You can't miss him; he's the guy wearing the coveted Orange Jumpsuit, that is awarded (temporarily) to each year's champion.

In the same tradition as the fabled Green Jacket awarded each spring at the Masters in Augusta, Georgia, the Orange Jumpsuit must be proudly worn by the reigning champion at brunch each year. Well, it must be worn anyway - and any grumbling kept to a minimum.


Can you guess from this photo who is the new 2009 Champion? No peeking to the end of the post! [What do you mean "I already gave it away?"]

We traveled the remaining 25 miles to Bay City and got down to business - golfing.

[That's The Boy below - striking his first shot ever at the Spinner Invitational.]


As I indicated in my last post, golf is only a small part of the event. In addition to the Past Champions Brunch and an informal 19th Hole gathering at Bay Valley, the group heads south to Frankenmuth, MI (on the way home for most participants) for the Governor's Awards Banquet. For most of the Invitational's 22 years, the banquet has been held at Zehnder's - where most of the attendees opt for the delicious, all-you-can-eat family-style chicken dinner.


As with any prestigious, long-standing event of this kind, there must be an organizing body to plan and execute all of the necessary activities - in this case, the Board of Governors (a group of men shrouded in mystery: beloved by many, feared by some; who wield their power Old Testament-style). Although I have come to know these men well during my years serving as the Director of Spinner Operations, it would be safer for me and you to avoid dwelling o'er-long on the Board.

Suffice it to say that: the Governor's Awards Banquet combines the storied tradition of Britain's Open Championship with the heady anticipation of the Academy Awards. The Invitational celebrates, not the fruits of golfing excellence, but rather the oftentimes rocky journey of the "hacker" whose limited opportunity to play does not reflect his/her love of the game. And the awards presented by the Board of Governors reflects this focus.

The winner of this year's "Cooke" award - for the most shots coming to rest in a sand trap:

The Duke of Inkster (with five)

The winner of this year's "Hannum" award - for the most shots striking trees:

Big Billy B. (with an astounding eleven)
[Bill is in the right of the photo, Chico is presenting the award at left.]

The winner of this year's "Morrison" award - for the most shots coming to rest in a body of water:

Larry* (with a respectable eight water balls)

The winner of this year's Capt. D.H. Wyatt Award - for the highest net score (the score adjusted by handicap):

Chico** (with a net 88)

And last - but not least - that golfer who persevered all of the hardships and self-doubt, whose very presence broke down barriers and brought hope to those who might not previously been bold enough to dream what seemed impossible;

the 2009 Winner of the W. T. Bigby Memorial Governor's Trophy:

Judy G. (with a net 65)

Check out this year's Champion with her posse:


I only wish you all could have been there. We had a great time.
And we'll do it again; same time, same place - next year.

Take care.

* A close friend, vacation buddy, member of the Music Night Federation and all-around cool guy; who with his wife, Leslie, is an originating member of the L2C2 Vacation Club.
** One of my closest friends, former boss, vacation buddy, Music Night co-founder and all-around cool guy; he and his wife, Chickadee, are also originating members of the C2L2 Vacation Club.

The Plan

My vacation starts tomorrow. It will last about two weeks, cover several hundred miles and be broken into two major components.

Part 1: June 26 - June 29

Hanging at Wiser Times in Greenbush, Michigan. Our very good friends, Chico and Chickadee have a place on Lake Huron. We will spend a long weekend, hanging out, golfing and enjoying each others company. There will be anywhere from 2 - 4 couples and perhaps even children involved. But not mine.

Part 2: July 2 - July 10

Hanging with Leslie & Larry in Petoskey, Michigan. This is on the Lake Michigan side, up near the top of "The Mitten" (the Lower Peninsula of Michigan). It will be an extended version of the previous weekend's activities - but just the four of us. And we'll take in the annual Fourth of July parade in Harbor Springs (just across the Little Traverse Bay from Petoskey).

For our visually-inclined readers, I've included this detailed map of our planned travels. Part 1 will take us from the green dot to the blue dot to the purple dot and back. (At one point, we had planned to stay "up north" for the entire two weeks - but Snoplum likes to sleep in her own bed - so we're coming back home for a couple days. That way, we can maximize the number of hours in the car.) Part 2 will take us from the green dot to the red dot and back.
It's gonna be great.

But before all that comes the event that some men wait all year for. A competition of such historic proportions, grown men grow faint at the prospect.

FRIDAY: The 22nd Annual Spinner Invitational

Get the inside scoop tomorrow morning - right here.

Take care.

Add some Music to your...night

"Music - when you're alone
Is like a companion
For your lonely soul"
--Brian Wilson, Add Some Music To Your Day

I got my first job delivering newspapers when I was eleven. My primary purpose in getting that job was to save up enough money to buy a stereo system. You know, one of those all-in-one units with a tuner, cassette deck and the record player on top.

[OK, you have to imagine that the unit above has a tape deck in it rather than a CD player - and a remote control!?]

So I got enough money with my Christmas tips that I was able to purchase my own stereo. I had that record lathe from junior high to college. The Under-Aged Woman and I made out listening to Side Two of James Taylor's Greatest Hits played on that system. It was in the dorm room I shared with Paul Joey at the University of Detroit, so we could lie stoned on the floor and listen to Riders On The Storm. From that Christmas onward, I have always valued good stereo equipment. Eventually, I was even able to purchase some.

Anyway, I told you that stuff, so I could tell you this: Tonight is Music Night.

That is, the Music Night Federation of Metropolitan Detroit will be gathering tonight for its latest event - to produce a new musical compilation around the theme - "Risk". The Federation has been getting together for over 18 years now. To date, we have produced 90 different musical collections on topics ranging from Aging to Work (no "Y" or "Z" topics - yet). If you did the math, you already know that we get together 4 or 5 times a year for the purpose of sharing music, food and friendship.

The only rule of Music Night is: there are no rules. You might ask: Who decides whether a song is "on-topic"? The person who picked it, of course. However, we do have structure. We rotate topic selection amongst all participants (so that in each "round", everyone gets to select the topic once) and the person who picked the topic get the lead cut on that collection. This also ensures that the topic selector will get the maximum number of cuts on that collection (since we rotate song selection based on a draw of cards the night of the event).

We pick and play songs through the night until we have a roster of approximately 160 minutes of music - enough to fill two compact discs. Every Federation member in good standing (that is, them's that has paid their dues - just enough cash to defray the expenses of blank CDs, jewel cases, labels and packaging inserts) receives a copy of the resulting compilation for their listening pleasure.

We have a great time. It's a wonderful excuse to have a party - and almost everyone gets exposed to some music they have never heard before. Which is sweet!

I could go on and on with additional details (and I probably will in some future post(s)) - but time is running short...and I still need to pick out my top choices on the topic of "Risk". If you have any suggestions, leave me a comment. Anything used on the final collection will be appropriately noted on this here blog.

And, for the right price, I am willing to discuss franchising opportunities for starting a Music Night Federation in your town...

(I may yet be rich beyond my wildest dreams!)

Take care.

Random Wednesday Thoughts

(doesn't it count if I thought of the stuff on Tuesday?)

• I might have finished a normal post today - if I hadn't discovered two new blogs from a very good friend, Ellie Belen. But that was an excellent trade-off. I had no idea Ellie was blogging - and I think she is a wonderful writer. You can decide for yourself by checking out her blogs at Distracting Minutia and Martial Arts Class Diaries .


• Because the Middle-Aged Woman leaves for work before I do, I will often find her nightshirt or other sleeping gear tossed in a heap on our bed. I like thinking of my wife's beautiful body while I fold her bed clothes.


• There can be some competition for bathroom time in my house. Such was the case when The Girl (my 19-year-old daughter aka Ms. Partly Cloudy) barged in on me the other morning. The bathroom is located near (what passes for) the master bedroom in our home* - it has sliding "pocket" doors on either side. When I'm in that bathroom and I hear approaching footsteps, I will often clear my throat or make a noise to help avoid any awkward encounters. But The Girl was moving at top speed and oblivious to any warnings I might make. So as she briskly slid open one of the doors, I greeted her in a loud, cheery voice -

"Howz it going?!"

"Jesus Christ!!!!!" She lept backward and slammed shut the pocket door.

"No - he's not in here. It's just me."

• The Wings couldn't finish off the Anaheim Ducks in Game 6 of their Stanley Cup playoff series tonight. The seventh and final game will be played in Detroit on Thursday night. The winner of that game will go on to play the Chicago Blackhawks in the Western Conference finals. GO WINGS!


• I excercised twice on Monday (treadmill in the morning, marital arts in the evening); just the treadmill Tuesday morning. Staying up late for the hockey game could ruin my streak Wednesday morning. But I've been on a pretty good roll so far this week.


• Full-time employment is really starting to interfere with my blogging. I seem to get a flood of ideas in the morning that I would like to get down on...electrons** while they're fresh in my mind. Sometimes I sneak a few minutes during lunch to read or make a comment. But it's really cramping my style. I wonder if I can get someone to pay me to do THIS? (I didn't think so - perhaps male prostitution. Oh, wait - I already do that...in a way.)


• It's getting late. I've been random enough. Preparing posts with audio and text has been a lot more work than I imagined - but I think it's been worth it.

Take care.

* It is distinguishable as the "master" bedroom only because the MAW and I sleep there.
** Screen? You know what I mean...

Prong Buddies

[Pictured in 1981, from l. to r., Paul Joey, Paul Johnny (seated), Jim Charlie, Jim Styro (seated)]

I believe in keeping commitments. And I did promise in my very first post that, over time, I would explain the different monikers I have acquired over the years. Since the only one I have explained so far is Captain Dick, I thought it was about time to do some more divulging.

So today, I will tell you about the origins of that name by which I am most widely known - Styro (or, Jim Styro "if you're not into the whole brevity thing"*). Of course, it's impossible to tell that story without talking about my Prong Buddies - and it's appropriate that I speak of them today, since it's my BFF Jim Charlie's birthday today.**

Before high school, I did not have many friends.*** (I'm not looking for sympathy.) I wasn't a complete outcast - but I was...unpopular amongst my peers. I was tall and uncoordinated and smart and a loner - and I don't think I found other kids my age that interesting anyway. This situation persisted well into my sophomore year of high school****, when I tried out and got a part in the chorus for Bishop Borgess High School's spring musical.

Involvement with the theater crowd at my high school quickly transitioned into involvement with the competitive speech team - and soon I had friends. The core of these friendships was built around the aforementioned Prong Buddies, four guys named Jim and Jim and Paul and Paul. In retrospect, the things that we had in common were few. We were smart, we weren't afraid of public speaking, and we weren't on any sports teams. But if you had tried to find four young guys at BBHS (which, at that time, was the largest Catholic high school in the state of Michigan - with about 3,000 students) with more definite and distinctive personalities, it would have been difficult.

I haven't told you much about the Prong Buddies - but you know enough for me to finish the story. (Don't worry - if I keep this gig, you'll hear more about them. If you're interested...) The practical difficulty presented by four guys hanging out all the time with only two names to share between them is: what to call one another. Just "Jim" and "Paul" aren't enough. But we were smart boys. We decided right away to use first and middle names to provide the desired level of specificity. So...

James Charles... became Jim Charlie, and
Paul John.......... became Paul Johnny, and
Paul Joseph....... became Paul Joey, and
James Stewart... became Jim...Stueyy?

Whether you've never heard this story before - or you've known it for years - isn't it just obvious that something is wrong there? Oh, we tried to make the whole Jim Stueyy thing work. Jim Charlie concocted the whole screwy "EYY" spelling thing (Hey, "Stewie" is just as bad - if not worse) to try to make the whole thing palatable. But I think we all knew that my name was not quite right.

Then one day, we were lunching in the cafeteria when some food service supplies were being delivered - plates, cups, plastic utensils and the like. On the side of a big box of styrofoam cups, Jim Charlie saw the word STYRO emblazoned in huge red letters.

"Hey, you're Jim Styro", he said. And he was right.

I feel very lucky that Jim and Paul and Paul are still among the best friends I have. Or ever expect to have. And that I still get to see them and talk to them frequently (although I really have to stay on Groucho's ass sometimes. Sorry, that's another nickname, another story, and another post.) Not everyone gets to hang on to their friends for so long.

That makes me a lucky Styro. Hope you had a great birthday, Jim Charlie.


Take care.


*in the words of Jeffrey Lebowski.


**First off, I can hardly believe I used the abbreviation BFF (nothing says "I talk like a 15-year-old girl" quite like BFF); second, by the time you read this his birthday will be over - but you can hardly blame me for that.
***Doesn't everyone seem to say that? Aren't there any writers or artists who were extremely popular in their youth?
****By junior year, Mom was concerned enough with my seeming lack of social success to ask me if I was gay. Of course, she was unaware that I had already lost my virginity at the hands of...Damn - no wonder I haven't tried to tell this story yet. It gets complicated. I've got enough material for about 57 posts. (This is my last footnote - the rest I'm just leaving out.)