Notes

I haven't written for some time. A combination of things. Work, boredom and just a lack of brain stimulation. I tried to get some scientific discussion going with that bubble and snow thing but I haven't heard any as of yet. I think people are being overly scientific on it and really setting the thing up. Just kidding.

My wife, my daughter and I watched a good movie this evening. We saw "The Namesake". Very well done. Good story, good acting. We all enjoyed it very much. It kind of reminded me of an old friend that i haven't spoken to in a few years. We used to talk but not much any more. I lost his number. I really must try to find him.

I know I said I was working on an essay, and I do plan to post it, but I got sidetracked and I have been jotting down notes for other projects -- making no progress whatsoever. Such is the state of my thoughts. Too many irons in the fire. I just need to learn to focus.

Thanks. That is all for tonight. It is after 1AM and I am tired. Good night.

D.

Winter Fun

I was reading today when the image of the lady and her child blowing bubbles in the snow brought me down memory lane.

Many years ago at a backyard bbq (Summer in Southern Cal - hot and dry), I sat around blowing bubbles with the kids. The ambient air was so hot and dry that the water evaporated from the bubbles before they had floated ten feet. The remnants were a soap bubble with no water. It was the strangest thing. We marveled at it and were amazed by it. End of story.

I was reading this week about the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland. One of my favorite writers (Jay Nordlinger, National Review Online) was over there and he remarked that he was taking a walk and noticed a Swiss mom and her child blowing bubbles in the snow. It reminded me of my times with my own children. And then I pondered what would happen if you blew bubbles in sub-freezing temperatures? Would the moisture freeze and would you have these thin balls of ice? Forgive my ignorance, but this southern California boy doesn't get to the sub-freezing temps very often. But next time I do, I will bring some bubbles with me, just to see what happens.

A friend of mine at work (a Wisconsin native and transplant to So. Cal) has promised to take the challenge to ask her sister to have her children try this experiment. She seems to think the same thing will happen because of the dry weather in winter. We shall see. She also suggested that I ask my son to take the experiment to his science teacher and that maybe they could set up a web cast with some school in Wisconsin. They could do the experiment and his class could watch from Sunny California. I will plant the seed and see what happens.

(NOTE: I remember hearing a story about if you drink coffee in a real cold climate sometimes, depending on the temperature, you can take the coffee and throw it in the air and it will freeze before it hits the ground. I think it would have to be pretty cold.)

D.

Practical Jokes - Don't try this at home.

I know it has been a while since I last posted and I am working on an essay at the moment. But I wanted to post a little story about a family get together. I have two brothers and four sisters. We are all married with children of our own and we get together rather infrequently now. About five years ago, I think it was around Thanksgiving time, we all managed to get together at my parents house. The night before Thanksgiving is always a crazy time. We are prepping food in the kitchen for the big feast and everyone is running around my parents house socializing or hanging around the fire pit.

My wife, kids and I arrived after dinner on that particular Wednesday evening and all of the festivities had already begun. Now not all of my family drinks but there is usually a blender going for margaritas. We came in the front door and my wife went one way, the kids went another, so I dropped our contribution for the next day's meal in the kitchen.

In the kitchen, there was a lot of prep work going on. I offered to help. My sister, the one taking the trip with us next summer, was busy doing something for the meal; my older brother was in charge of margaritas. He offered me one. I was drinking at the time. I gladly took it. He poured me a nice blended margarita in a salt rimmed glass. It tasted great.

We started talking, catching up really, and I noticed that my sister had left the room. She had been pealing onions for the stuffing. She asked me to put the onions in a food processor before she left the room. I obliged. I remarked to my brother that the pureed onions looked alot like the blended margaritas that he was preparing. The idea just popped into my head. I yelled to my sister, who was now sitting around the fire pit, and asked if she wanted a margarita. She said that she would love one. I neatly poured the pureed onions in a salt rimmed glass and my brother and I went to socialize around the fire pit.

I gave my sister her "margarita" and we all sat around and joked and talked. It must have been about 5 minutes before my sister tasted her margarita. It was hilarious. She screamed at me and my brother and we had the greatest laugh. She will never forget. She doesn't take drinks from us anymore.

Eternity - The Story of Arthur Stace

Where do memories come from? Where do we get our thoughts? Does providence rule our progress through this life? Sometimes I think there are forces guiding my brain. This weekend I was reminded of a story I heard around the change of the millennium. I was surfing the web and came across the story of Mr. Eternity (http://www.greenplanet.com.au/eternity/eternity.htm). I should state that I consider myself spiritual not necessarily religious. I just never had much use for organized religion. But I think about eternity. I guess I write because I do. I want to leave something behind. I want my life to count for something. I want to know that I have touched someone's life. I just want my time on this planet to count for something. I want to leave the place a little better than I found it.

Someday I hope to organize all of my thoughts and, hopefully, we shall all be better off for it. Or at least then I could get some sleep.

D.




http://www.greenplanet.com.au/eternity/eternity.htm

Parades

My sister called me tonight. I told her about my trip to Alturas and Canby back in 1984. We went to the Modoc Indians stronghold of the Lava Beds, my brother and I. I only mention this because this is the sister that I always give a hard time to. I was telling her about General E. R. S. Canby who was killed during the Modoc Indian wars in 1873. She was getting annoyed at the details which I remembered from my trip in 1984. I was standing in the living room and my wife was in the kitchen laughing at the worthless information I was feeding my sister. My sister was looking for constructive things to keep her children busy during such a trip and I was feeding her historical information that would just bore her kids. I was trying to be helpful. Fine.

If she didn't want the historical data, then how about Geography. Did you know that the Pit River is a great place to go fishing on this trip. (Her husband is a great fisherman and is always ready to go.) The Pit River is the largest river in the Shasta Lake drainage area. It flows out of Goose Lake (which has traces of manganese in it), flows across two hundred miles of rolling California hills and provides most of the water for Shasta Lake and Dam.

I also told her about the birds at the Tule Lake Wildlife Preserve. Lots of birds.

My sister has a great laugh. I will always remember - sometime in 1988? - I was at my parents house. This was prior to me knowing my wife. I was at home for a visit. I was sitting at the kitchen table - finishing dinner? reading the paper? it doesn't really matter - when my 5 year old niece came through the room, followed by my youngest sister and then my other sister (the star of this post). I don't know why but it struck me as funny. I immediately stood up and joined the march, proclaiming rather loudly that "Oh boy, I love a parade". This one I did too.

My sister stops in her tracks, turns around and laughs at me asking "How do you do that?" Be funny, I guess. I just like to be happy so I find things that amuse me. This was a fun night.

The year may have been 1990 or maybe even 1991. I am getting old and my memory cells don't always help on this. But I did love that parade.
D.

Monday - Don't read this.

Nothing of any interest happened to me today. I did update my Netflix queue. But that was about it. Got up early, went to work, worked, came home tried to take a nap. Fixed dinner watched TV and then did this. Such is life. Momma said there would be days like this. But as God is my witness, tomorrow is another day.

Now don't you feel cheated.

coffee

Tonight, while setting up my coffee for tomorrow morning I looked at the grounds in the can. I thought (pondered) how many coffee beans went into a two pound can of coffee grinds? For that matter, how many beans grow on a coffee tree (bush?)? Who picks them, who grows them? I know this opens up a lot of questions on imperialism and colonialism but the price is paid. I know sometimes the prices go up and sometimes they go down.

These were just questions I had about coffee. And I just read that caffeine might be good for you, too. I shall keep drinking it.

I started drinking coffee when I was 17. I started working in a coffee shop/restaurant and we drank coffee. At one point there I realized that I was drinking four or five cups a day. I used to sweeten my coffee with sugar - one or two teaspoons. I realized that over a year that was a lot of sugar. I just stopped putting sugar in my coffee. It still didn't keep me from getting diabetes.

Comments

Hi all. I know that some people are checking my blog almost every day. I know the rest of the world doesn't. I am ok with that. I know those that check don't leave comments. That is ok, too. But if you want to leave a comment or just comment on any submittal my e-mail address is listed in my profile. Just click on the e-mail note and drop me a line. Thanks. I need help on grammar, punctuation and syntax, as well as context and structure. Any comments are welcome. Thanks.

New Year's Leap Year Tradition

This year my wife and I decided to take the kids to Disneyland after the new year. We have done this several times in the past to celebrate my daughter's birthday. This year was different. We have been trying to motivate my son to pay a little more attention to his studies and the trip was to be a reward (for trying at least). This year my daughter also turned 18 so this might be the last time we go to Disneyland as a family. That is ok with me.

I know it is the happiest place on earth. I know my wife grew up in Southern California and loves Disney (more than an adult woman should). I know the kids love it. But geesh. I have to pay for the admission and it seems that the dollar amount keeps going through my mind as we wait 45-60 minutes to ride the Indiana Jones ride or "Pirates of the Carribean". As we wait in line I try to figure out to the minute how much it is costing me just to anticipate the two minutes of enjoyment that I might get from the ride itself.

But still, my wife loves it. She loves the enjoyment that our kids received from watching the videos. I remember it too. My daughter was a year old when "Beauty and the Beast" came out. I remember her singing all of the songs - I think she learned to sing the songs before she learned to talk. I remember her watching the video over and over again. I cannot complain about Disney in that respect. It taught her to use her imagination. I believe it also taught her the true enjoyment that can come from reading. Belle, in the story, was an avid reader. Maybe my daughter learned from that. Whatever the reason she, my daughter, was never without a book. I am happy about that.

I think my son was about two years old when "Toy Story" came out. Yes, we took a trip to Disneyland that next year. He got his picture taken with Woody and dressed up as Woody for Halloween. Disney played a big part in my children's childhood. Why then do I dislike Disneyland so much?

Maybe because I have been there too much. Maybe because of the arrogance of the employees. I get yelled at from employees for walking in the street when their "parade" is about to start. Geesh, it is just a silly parade. Give me a break.

Still, I have to look at my wife. She gets excited because she has a Disney sweat shirt. She loves all the characters. She loves Sleeping Beauty's Castle. This year it was exceptional beautiful because it still had the Christmas lights that made it look fantastic. She loves walking up to the entrance. She loves the excitement of anticipation. She loves Main Street. She loves seeing all of the little kids, the smiles, the laughs, and yes, even the mid after noon temper tantrums. She loves those because she remembers that our kids used to do that and they are grown now, whew! Yet she remembers when they were young.

She remembers the sleeping babies in the baby carriages. She remember our daughter singing along to the songs at the Beauty and the Beast show. She remembers our daughter on Mr. Toad's wild ride. She remembers my son running to meet Woody. She remembers...

This year was fun too. We rode all of the rides, we shopped, we walked... and we walked. We shopped. We waited. I sat down with my wife while our kids went to ride an attraction that neither my wife nor myself had any interest in. We sat in one of the little cafes and sipped our drinks and just enjoyed each other's company. It was strangely quiet and we both shared how lonely it was. How our children were growing and soon would have lives of their own. It was a happy and sad day. This may be the last trip for awhile.

It was a bittersweet day for us. Kind of happy, kind of melancholy. My wife remembers the fun. I remember how much money it cost me.

And I remember how happy my children were when we went.

D.

The Saturday Before Christmas

The Saturday before Christmas I woke up. I showered, got dressed and sat down to my morning coffee and newspaper. During the course of my second cup I read my horoscope. I will paraphrase it here as follows:

"Your partner may not seem able to get up and go this morning. Try to encourage them to pick up the pace. It might be tempting to let them rest while you take up the slack, but you are not a team if you do all the work. Work on your motivational skills. They will respect you for having the right priorities."

I then read my wife's horoscope:

"If you feel like you are in the thick of things, you are right. But the good news is, you are the calm of the storm, the place where everything is quiet and serene. Of course, the time is coming soon when you will be forced to take to your shelter and hide out from the tumult around you. Resist the urge to fight back or brave the harsh elements. You need to live by the motto of 'safety first' if you want to get through the action without any stress. "

I saw these two horoscopes as two opposing views. My wife said it sounded like Christmas shopping. I gave up and ignored my horoscope. I kind of got the feeling that the stars were trying to pick a fight between my wife and myself.

We went shopping the next day. We went our own separate ways and were done by 11PM. She was done, I went out on Monday. It is kind of a tradition for me. I believe shopping on Monday takes all the 'shopping' or decisions out of it. Basically, everything is by then all picked over and you just take what is left. No decisions. They are already made for you. Just pick up what is left and you are done. Real easy.

Some late night ramblings

Sandy Cash's cover of Peter Jones's "Kilkelly"

I remember the first time I heard the song. It is such a hauntingly beautiful song. It tears at my heart every time I hear it. Sandy Cash is such a talented singer. But this song is just such a beautiful story. So wonderfully written that I can picture the 40 years that it covers.

I was listening to it tonight and then I got distracted to other similar songs. Before I knew it I was here for an hour. But I find that this music lifts my spirit. I started listening to some other favorites. But I came back to "kilkelly". It reminds me of the importance of family. And it reminded me of something I wrote a few years ago about my family and our reunions. I will add that here:

"From a little ball of twine.
Every five years or so my family has a reunion. A lot of families do that. My dad had 5 brothers and 5 sisters. I have 18 aunts and uncles. Through the course of lives and deaths, I also have 38 cousins and 7 step cousins. And, of course, I am related to all their kids. I will not bore you with any more numbers. When we get together, there are a lot of us. At the last reunion we had over 130 attendees. And this is only part of the family.

We have a lot of fun at our reunions. But the most fun we have is the traditional rope making contest. My dad and his siblings grew up during the depression and on the farm they couldn't always afford new rope each season. During the winter it would not get used much and would dry out. So every year they had a need for new rope. My dad told me that they would lay the rope out in front of the barn in kind of a basket. On that basket they would stack hay and then using a pulley system to hoist that hay into the barn. They always needed rope of various lengths.

Over the course of the years the family has actually found several depression era rope machines. These machines are hand held machines and take several people to operate. One person is the cranker. He sits at one end and turns the handle. There is also a person at the other end who holds the end of the rope around a holder shaped like a 'Y'. Depending on the length of the rope, anywhere from 5 to 10 people would stand along the length of the rope to make sure that the errant strands of twine do not get tangled.

Unfortunately, I don't have one of those machines. I have been looking. I will try to describe it. On the fixed end, attached to the crank are the gears and essentially four claws. On the other end is the handle. The twine from which the rope is made, is wrapped around the handle and then stretched to the other end and wrapped around a claw on the fixed end. This is repeated until the desired thickness of the rope is achieved. When the twine is attached it is tied off and then the cranking begins.

It is really quite a process. The cranker starts turning the handle and the strands of twine start twist and to tighten up. The ten, or so, people along the line keep the errant strands from tangling up with each other. Once the strands of twine are tightly wound the actual twisting of the rope takes place and the guy at the end slowly starts to walk to the crank, twisting the strands of twine into a rope as he goes.

Our reunions are very structured and we usually reserve two afternoons for the making of rope. We can make about 15 ropes in an afternoon. We make sure that anyone who wants a rope gets one. The last reunion that we went to my daughter got a jump rope and I got this one. It is the one event that I really look forward to at our reunions."

Good night for now.
D.

Our Christmas Tree

To my niece

Our Christmas tree is decorated by tradition. I was single, living alone in 1986 when my niece (my sister-in-law) sent five dollars for me to buy a small tree. She was three and her mother wanted me to have a tree. I wasn't going to celebrate. It was too much work and I was alone in my apartment...what was the point? But discourage a three year old? Not me. I used her money and bought a small tree. She sent me one ornament. It was cute.

My sister heard about it and sent me a small collection of ornaments. We still have them. The next year I had a fiance. She moved in with me and we bought a slightly larger tree. Her girlfriends and cousins each sent a new ornament to go on our tree. A year later our daughter was born. We recieved a lot of baby's first Christmas ornaments and others.

The next year more ornaments sent to us. In the twenty Christmases we have been together we have received many ornaments from friends. I don't believe we have ever bought an ornament for our tree. The spirit of giving decorates our trees. I marvel at our gifts. We are truly blessed. There is a story behind each of our ornaments. There is a story of love and friendship. I love its spirit. I marvel at its life. I am truly amazed each year.

D.

A Rainy Day

When I turned 20 a friend of my family gave me some advice. We were sitting at a family barbecue and just talking. I was about ready to move out on my own. I had a job and was moving across the country to California. I would be on my own for the first time in my life. I was working and living at home. I was paying off some bills and obligations. This gentleman was a great family friend. We had known Charlie and his wife for ten years and he had watched my brothers and sisters and I all grow up. But now I had the opportunity to go out on my own.

Charlie was an older gentleman who had been working for a great many years. I think he was almost ready to retire then. This was thirty years ago. I remember his advice like it was yesterday. It was the best advice I had ever been given. Too bad it took me 15 years to take it. Charlie told me that no matter how much money I make or don’t make, "Pay yourself first". Charlie said that that could take many different forms. But the most important thing was to "pay yourself first."

That advice was always in the back of my mind as I packed all my belongings in the back of my Ford pickup and moved to Lake Tahoe. I found a nice little motel room that I could rent by the month. I think the rent was $155 a month. I had bought my truck from a dealer and was paying about $120 a month on the payment. I was making $5 bucks an hour for a full-time job but I wasn’t too sure what I could afford. I had maybe $600 in my pocket. I had to make expenses each month. And I had to have money left over to live. I WAS living in Lake Tahoe. "Pay yourself first." Very good advice.

After six months in Tahoe I had made enough friends to find a couple of roommates. We moved into a house together and I started saving money. I eventually saved enough money to go back to college. I could save money when I had a distinct goal in mind but saving on a regular basis for a rainy day, that was a different story.

I have tried to convince my children that saving for a rainy day is the best thing to do but I don’t know if it has sunk in. I told my daughter when she started working that she should save a little bit of every pay check. I think I used the words "pay yourself first". But todays world is an expensive place. Even the price of gas eats up most of her paycheck. I know she is managing to save some money, though.

I give my son money to take care of the yard. From the looks of the yard you would think I am saving money. I have to get on his case several times before the rake moves from the garage but he does ok. He does his chores and he gets compensated for it. He wants a new skateboard and I think he is saving up for a banjo (of all things). He may get there.

I have learned to save for a "rainy day". I am now saving for retirement. I am paying myself first. I am very thankful that it is was made easier with all the IRA’s and 401k’s out there now. And the auto deductions from work are fantastic. The only thing that worries me is that I hope my retirement is not really rainy days. Please throw some sunshine in there too.

Thanks Charlie.

David

Best Laid Plans

I was recently reminded of an event that occurred while I was living in Lake Tahoe. Someone once said to me that it can snow in every month of the year in Lake Tahoe. That was made evident one particular July Fourth. I was on my way to work and had just parked my car in the employees parking lot of one of the large casinos. It was a cold day out and the wind was blowing. I was walking with my then girlfriend and we met another co-worker also on his way to work. The clouds had just started to sprinkle the area again with some light snow. This was a continuance of the light snow that had been dropping all day. We noticed a little squirrel scammering around the parking lot between the cars. He would find a small pine cone and quickly scurry towards a tree. He looked nervous. Which may have been my own interpretation of his situation. Here it was July. The last snows just melted three months ago and now it was snowing again. What this squirrel must have thought at this new snow fall. I pictured him as nervously thinking that winter had arrived and he wasn't ready. I saw the panic in his face as he looked for food. I got a little chuckle out of this. I wanted to tell him to relax. That he had plenty of time. But he was too busy and probably wouldn't have listened to me anyway. I went to work.

David.

For My Dad

March 31, 1995

Dear Dad,

I know that after your stroke you said that we all came waiting for you to die, as in some sort of death watch. This is just not true. It occurred to me that the moments that count in life are not the moments we spend alone but moments we spend with each other. Maybe we came together because we feel that we haven't spent enough time together.

You raised your children to be productive members of society and, I believe every one of us is, but in doing so we have all had to make sacrifices. One sacrifice is that the family we were raised with, the family that made us what we are today does not get to see each other as much as we would like. We all have our own lives. But at the time of your stroke we realized that life is precious and also temporary.

Your stroke awoke in us a reality that we really haven't spent as much time together as we should. That is what we are worried about when we ask you how you are doing. Time is our most precious gift.

I guess what I really feel is that this warning that you have been given could be looked on as a gift; a sign of how precious and fleeting life is and that each moment has a beauty all its own to be cherished.

I wrote a poem once and it's been on my mind for several years now. I have begun to ask myself if I am proud of the life I lead. I have no doubts about my personal decisions. I love my family with all my heart. I have questions about my professional decisions. The poem I wrote was about a professional man who finds the decisions he has made have made him unhappy in or unfulfilled in his personal life. The questions asked of him are whether the boy he was would be proud of the man he is.

There are some things that we may never know. But today I came home and I saw my reflection in the window. I was holding my son while fumbling for my keys and I paused and looked at myself in the window. At that moment I realized who I am. I am a family man and as such I have responsibilities to my wife and my daughter and my son. And it makes me very happy. Those responsibilities are manifested in my commitment to my professional life and to myself. And it was in this moment I found an answer to the question. Yes, I am proud of myself. The boy I was could be proud of me. This is the essence of fatherhood.

This boy is also proud of you. I often talk of you in terms of what you accomplished. I tell my coworkers what you worked on and how many years you spent as an engineer. I am amazed at how you can grow just about anything in your backyard and build anything you want from scraps of wood. I love the way you reuse stuff that most people would throw away. I learned a lot from you and you should feel proud of your accomplishments as much as we are proud of you.
Thank you for being my DAD.

Love,
Your son, David