YAC

The grand kids are taking a creative writing class after school. They refer to it using a strange acronym, YAC. I have yet to see just what it stands for. I've just been having fun teasing them with it. Saying silly Grandpa things like, " Do you have to go to the Nurse ? " I heard you had to YAC. Funny stuff, eh? " Don't YAC on your papers. "
Last Friday was Grandparents day at the elementary school, and like every year I was there. My wife had gone first thing in the morning and I joined her later in the day. We took turns being with each child. One in the third grade and the other in fifth. Got our picture taken,too. A yearly ritual. We are blessed with wonderful grand kids and excellent students. It is always nice to hear good things about them from teachers and administrators alike.
The daily routine they follow is quite a change from what I did as a kid. The work is more difficult and challenging I think.
I agreed to stay after school and go to their YAC class. The teacher gave them a large handout, almost a small book itself. She then explained they were to write a novel in thirty days ! The children were stunned. Write a book in thirty days ? Holy Cow ! She then explained that by using the handout it was possible. But that it was going to require a commitment on their part. A promise to write a certain number of words every day beginning November 1st and continuing until the 30th.
After the initial shock the students became excited about the possibilities.Their novel could be about anything they wanted. It was to contain pictures that they drew as well. This was going to be fun. A little competitive spirit started to appear when they were asked how many words their novel would contain. A minimum of 2500 words is required. They were saying things like five thousand and six thousand until the teacher reigned in some of that exuberance. She showed them on a chart how many words they would have to average daily to reach their goals. More realistic word counts followed.
In that pamphlet there are instructions on creating characters and plot. Daily worksheets and suggestions. It is quite a challenge. I am most interested in how this works out. Mark is in the fifth grade and quite the writer. He does have an active imagination. His artwork leaves something to be desired. Morgan is in the third grade. A little young to be expected to write an entire novel I think. Her artwork is excellent however. This ought to be good. It is a lot more work than either of them realize. And quite a bit more difficult. But then,one never knows. Maybe it is just the inspiration they need.
I think it is a wonderful thing. The teacher donating their time to work with the kids. Providing them the opportunity to be more creative. I can't wait to read their Novels. They are supposed to not let anyone see them until they are finished. Good luck with that one !

The Coolest Bike in Town

It had been raining on and off for the last few days. The day was dawning gray and overcast but typical for September on eastern long island.A few streaks of red could be seen in the clouds. He had just celebrated his fourteenth birthday. Got a new bicycle in fact. Birthdays usually made him sad. His mother had passed away shortly after his own birth, and it was a reminder. When he was eight his father had passed too. Still, he lived with his Grandmother and Grandfather and that was just as good. They were both kindly people that loved him very much. He knew his Grandmother missed her daughter and said she lived within him. And Grandfather treated him like a son,not a Grandson. Sure, he was older than the other kids fathers, but he didn't act like it. And he did occasionally play ball with him.
It was Wednesday morning and time to leave for school. He was riding his new bike.It was the first time because he hadn't wanted to take it out in the rain. It was overcast, but pleasant enough and the school was only a mile and a half up the street. Looks like the sky might be clearing too. There is a slight breeze that may blow the bad weather off shore.Should be alright,Grandma thinks so.
He was having a hard time concentrating in class this morning. He had plans to put fender skirts on his new bike. Customize it. Grandpa said he had some material he could use and that he would help. It was going to be the coolest bike in town.
The window was open in the classroom and the wind seemed to be picking up. Maybe it was going to storm after all. The birds were acting a little strange,kind of milling about and making a lot of noise.Doodling a sketch of his bike with fender skirts in the corner of his math assignment he was in a world of his own. Suddenly he was snapped back to reality by a loud crashing sound ! A tree had fallen over right outside the window ! The teacher was shouting for everyone to get away from the windows ! A sense of panic spread throughout  the room.
Those weren't gusts of wind,it had become a  steady gale. Another tree had fallen, and some windows were broken. The teacher instructed everyone to go the gym immediately. The older students were busy closing all the windows and herding the younger children to the gym.Some were already crying. He had a bad feeling about all of this. This storm was becoming serious.
When everyone was assembled in the gym the principal announced the storm was very serious and no one was to leave the building. What ? Grandma is home alone and might need my help. I have to leave. Slipping out of the back of the room and racing down the hall he hit the closet available exit. The door flung open and practically left its' hinges. No matter,make a dash for it. Reaching his bicycle he jumped on the seat. The prevailing wind was westerly and that was fortunate for that is the direction of  home. No way could he have pedaled into that wind. Hunched over the handlebars and hanging on for dear life he headed home. The ride was the fastest and scariest ever. No need to pedal, just hold on and pray. Trees were down and debris flying everywhere. Try to not look around,it is too scary,just focus straight ahead. Miraculously he made it to Floyd street. That is home and Grandma. As he tried to turn into the drive a mighty gust blew him right over. Unhurt but shaken he just left the bike where it lay and struggled to reach the house. Grandma was there and she was safe!
 He helped her close windows and batten down.. He told Grandma he would keep her safe.  Secretly he just wanted to be close to her because it felt safer that way. He was scared! Grandma had a kerosene lantern and insisted they go to the basement. The storm raged around them for what seemed like hours. Grandma read her Bible and he just paced back and forth. Where was Grandpa and was he safe ? A short time after it passed Grandpa arrived home safe and sound.He had been stuck at work.
The next day school was closed and would remained closed for two weeks. Trees were uprooted all over town. No power and everything just a mess. The garden was destroyed. His bicycle lay right where he had left it.
Much later he did make those fender skirts.It was the coolest bike in town.Also the fastest. At least it was when being propelled by a hurricane!

The day was Wednesday September 21,1938. The place was East Hampton Long Island New York. He was my father. His birthday was on the 18th. He had just turned 14. The picture is him on the coolest and fastest bicycle in East Hampton. On that day, the hurricane called the Long Island Express, destroyed a good portion of town.
Most of the story is fiction. He did tell me he left the school on his bicycle when he wasn't supposed too. He was concerned about his Grandmother.The bicycle in the picture is the one and that is him. The year 1939. It was the spring following that dreadful event.

note the fender skirts front and rear and  he added a windshield just in case !

Being Discreet

It had been something that was just gnawing at me. Something I couldn't quite put a finger on. A feeling or a distant  memory. Then, like the proverbial light bulb coming on,it hit me. One word, Discretion. That is what I was trying to pin down. That one word described my feelings exactly! It is the lack of discretion I witness every day that was troubling my mind.  Discretion is fast becoming a lost trait. Deceit ,on the other hand,is approaching new heights. The two are polar opposites and discretion is taking a back seat. You can see the evidence of this everywhere. On the streets and on the TV.
One need only to look at the definition of the word to see the validity of my point here. It is obvious. Miriam Webster says this: exercising discernment or good judgement in conduct or speech.
I would have to say the majority of people I encounter on a daily basis don't do that. Especially in their speech. The frequent,and really irrelevant use of, coarse and profane language is evidence of that. I will admit this is generally from the younger crowd but there are those that adopt the ways of the young at any age.
Seeing the numbers of unwed mothers speaks volumes about exercising good judgement in their conduct.
The rising crime rate also speaks to that issue.
Webster also says, unpretentious/modest. Believe me when I tell you there is very little modesty left in this world.I know,I know I sound like an old fuddy duddy ! I'm just sayin' some of  the outfits I see people wearing in public are far from modest. Some really need to use more discretion in  selecting the proper size to wear,let alone the style ! I'm just sayin'. The definition also says, unobtrusive or unnoticeable. Well; that ain't happening folks. A good bit of the general public nowadays are very obtrusive,rude even,and definitely get noticed.
Everything and anything is posted on social media these days. The most intimate details of a persons life. Nothing discreet about that. Look at some of the top rated shows on television. What are they about? They aren't moral stories about exercising good judgement. Some,like survivor,promote deceit as being the most admirable of traits. It will win you a million bucks.Others promote a lack of discretion as a lifestyle. The Kardashians come to mind or The Jersey Shore. I admit I have never watched a complete episode of either of them but you get the point. These people are not exercising good judgement in their conduct.
Humans being humans have always been prone to making mistakes. It is the way we learn. That hasn't changed one bit over the ages. I expect it never will. The difference I'm seeing now is the lack of discretion .
I can only speak for myself. I was taught that discretion is the better part of valor. That is to say,fools rush in where wise men fear to tread. Given time I can come up with a few more cliches but to the point. The point being one should exercise discretion in their actions and deeds. There is no shame in it. It is not an admission of weakness. You can be whoever and whatever you want to be. Exercise discretion however in your choices and where you display those choices. One more cliche. Their is a time and place for everything. I'm just sayin'.

A trip to the ER

I will open by saying I have been extremely fortunate to have not needed emergency medical services myself. I have not been to a emergency room in quite some time. Not since my children were much younger and broke their arm or leg. I haven't missed anything.
Last evening, for a variety of reasons, I took my sons father in law to the emergency room. It wasn't really an acute situation but he wanted to go. He is,as they say, getting on in years now and was having some difficulty. I need not go into details as that isn't important to this story. So we went.
Upon arrival we headed for the desk. It was marked " Triage " Sounded serious to me. Last time I was there it was called reception. Did I make a wrong turn and wind up in an episode of MASH ? Didn't settle with me real well. Everyone was dressed in those outfits called scrubs. Who is who in this joint ? I couldn't tell Doctors from Nurses from receptionist ! I later learned she was the Triage facilitator or some such fancy title. After a battery of questions we were told to take a seat in the waiting area. That hadn't changed anyway.
It wasn't too long a wait before his name was called and off we went. This time we went behind the counter where we had checked in. There,behind the facilitator,sat another person that asked the same questions over again and took vital signs. From there we were taken to ER station 6. Making progress now !
The ER nurse came in and asked all those same questions as the first two people. I thought each had written down the answers but I guess not. At least they weren't sharing that information with each other. It was all going into a computer somewhere,either that or they were sending E-mail.
After attaching the blood pressure monitor,heart monitor and some other medical device she leaves. It is quite chilly in there,I guess to inhibit germs, and soon he is signaling for the nurse. She arrives and provides us with a warm blanket. It is not much of a blanket. A little short for a man about six foot tall and thin. A type of flannel I think but practically threadbare. Before this episode is over he will have gathered four of them.
On one of her visits the Nurse explains there are three doctors working tonight. It shouldn't be too long a wait. Expectations are high that this will be a smooth visit. Then it happened. Time is going by and nothing is happening. The nurse pops in and says there was a four car pileup. All the Doctors are busy. This could take a while. Not being unreasonable people we understand the situation and settle down for more waiting.
Something must be going on as there are a lot of people going up and down the hall. And they are in a hurry.
After about an hour things have settled down and are quiet. No more people going up and down the hallway. We ring for the nurse. She arrives and says it could be a while longer, another trauma situation has occurred and they were caught off guard. Oh,ok I understand. I thought this was the emergency room were you prepared for emergencies. No, it's Triage ! That must be the difference. We have been in this little room for two hours now.
By this time my son's father in law has become restless and says he is freezing to death. Older people sometimes do feel the cold more acutely. One more time for the nurse. He requests to be moved to a warmer location. The nurse explains that is not possible but she can bring him another blanket. That answer was not met with enthusiasm.He threatens to leave the hospital. The nurse quickly puts the side of the gurney up in an attempt to keep him there. She ducks out through the curtain and disappears. This action further incites him and he scoots out of the bottom of the gurney and starts getting dressed. It has been two and a half hours.The nurse returns and says,good news,you're next ! I just spoke with the doctor and as soon as he is done he will be with you. Not good enough. We are outta there.
There is no talking him out of this action. If you have ever had to deal with an older person that is upset and determined you understand. Not wishing to create a big scene I agree. His medical condition does not appear to be an acute one and he is not complaining of any pain. I do feel a little nervous about all this but what can you do ?
On the way back to his home he says he is hungry. He wants to go out for a sandwich and a coffee. So,we hit the Burger King for a whopper Jr and a coffee. That makes me feel better. He must be alright. I get him home safe and sound and another episode is over.

Another Memory

Dad was a real do it your selfer, before that term had even been thought of. In his day it was called,getting by the best way you knew how. He was a talented man when it came to that. Skilled in many trades. At various times he worked as a carpenter,plumber,automobile mechanic,stationery engineer,electrician and marine mechanic. So when he decided to add a second story to our house, it came as no big surprise.
Also, not a man to waste materials, and one with a limited budget some inventiveness was required. Creative thinking that is. Uncle Pete was a contractor and volunteered to help. On the day chosen Uncle Pete and his crew showed up and began. I was pretty young but remember some of the process and have heard the story many times. First the roof was braced internally.Then the side walls where cut through around the perimeter. A crane was attached and the roof lifted off the house. Like taking the top off a box ! What a sight it was. Sadly, to the best of my knowledge, no pictures exist today of that operation. From inside the house you wouldn't have known it it all. The ceiling was still there. Outside was a different sight altogether. Where's the roof ?
Working as quickly as possible,new walls where built for the second floor. These frames were set into place and in no time at all, the roof was sat down upon them. Sheathing was nailed up and presto,a second floor had been added to our home. In one day ! Amazing . Of course there was still a lot of interior work to be done. A stairwell had to be built,interior walls erected,windows installed and plumbing and electrical. Dad did all that after work in the evenings. Eventually we had one very large bedroom,a smaller bedroom and a full bath upstairs. The large bedroom spanned the width of the house and was intended for my two brothers and myself. The small bedroom was for my sister.
I do remember helping,we all did,painting and finishing the rooms. The floor was simple plank board flooring. Most likely pine. I vividly remember the painting of the floor. It was a glossy gray color. Probably it was deck paint that Dad had gotten somewhere. The fun part came after that. Dad had a collection of  cans of various colors. Red,yellow,blues and orange. He gave each one of us children a small stick. Then he explained what he wanted us to do. Stir the paint thoroughly. Then dip that stick in the paint and allow a stream of paint to fall on the floor. What ? Purposely spatter paint on the floor ? No,not spatter, draw circles,lines and designs on the floor. In all the different colors.It was like a huge work of abstract art ! I loved it ! What fun that was. As I said,it was a very large room and so we had a big canvas.
My sisters room wasn't done that way or the hallway. I don't really remember what those floors looked like but I remember my bedroom floor. I can still picture it to this day. Whatever the paint was it was durable that much is for sure. It stayed that way for many years and to the best of my knowledge still is.
You are not aware at the time that the reason was simple economics. That simple plank board flooring was inexpensive. And covering it with carpeting wasn't an option either. So,to add a little color and pizzazz Dad had us paint it. We owned that floor ! For a long time after I would look at the swirls of paint and remember doing that. I did that yellow lightning streak right there ! My brother did that one. Good times and good memories. For just a few years all three of us boys shared that room. We all crawled on that floor and played with our trucks and trains. The paint swirls become roads,towns,clouds and all matter of things. It was an excellent floor ! One of the best,ever.

Good Intentions

I was watching the evening news and got a chuckle. Happens a lot to me. What is supposed to be a serious news report I can't help but laugh about. Falls into the category of I need to laugh so I don't cry. They were talking about the trial of a man accused of using his political office for personal gain. I know ! Shocking isn't it ? Senator Currie is accused of accepting 245.000 dollars from Shopper food warehouse as bribes. He says he was hired as a consultant. He paid the taxes on the money but failed to report the income on his Senate ethic forms.
The part I found funny about the deal was the defense. Yesterday his lawyers were trying to claim that he is an honest man but was disorganized ! Later in the day they even hinted he wasn't too smart. Gotta chuckle about that defense. Unorganized and stupid ! That ought to work. The defense even supplied witnesses that testified to those very facts. Yes Judge, Senator Currie is an honest man, he is just stupid ! It wasn't his fault,he was unorganized. If he had only seen some of those "as seen on TV " products that would get you organized he wouldn't be in this mess. But he was too stupid to turn on the television.
Each and every Senator is entitled to hire 18 aids. That's right eighteen,look it up. I suppose all eighteen where so busy they couldn't have reminded him or filled out the paperwork for his signature. Give me a break. It is admirable that he paid the due taxes on this " income." But to suggest that it wasn't fully disclosed because of a lack of organizational skills or plain stupidity is laughable. C'mon Senator. And the fact that he would even allow the lawyers to present him in that light says something to me about his character. I'll be damned if I'm going to pay you to tell the world that I'm stupid ! The citizens of Maryland elected him, so what does that say ? I didn't vote for him ! Really I didn't.
As I said it falls into the category of laughing to keep from crying. All those years of law school and the best you can do is, he isn't organized ? Is that a brilliant defense or what ? I can't wait to hear what the jury has to say about that. Should be interesting. The facts are simple, he received the money and didn't file the correct paperwork. He doesn't claim he didn't know he should file that paperwork (ignorance of the law is no excuse) but that he meant to do it, but he was unorganized ! In a way I'm hoping he wins. That would set a wonderful precedent. You see Judge I intended to drive the speed limit but I was unorganized at the time and exceeded it. I admit I was stupid.
If this trend in defense continues to be allowed we could all benefit from it. Wouldn't need lawyers anymore. Hire any child and they can come up with a defense easy enough. Ask any kid if they did it and see what the answer will be ? Only kid in the room, Did you spill that milk ? As they stand there holding a glass of milk they will tell you, NO, wasn't me. Did you take out the trash,No, but I meant too.

A Sign

Yesterday morning as I was leaving for work I heard a familiar sound. One I hadn't heard in a while. The honking of the geese as they make their journey south. Confirmation that winter is coming. I have seen the leaves turning. I have watched the squirrels begin to gather nuts. I have felt the bite of the cold air in the mornings. All the signs are present. Jack Frost can not be far behind. I hear he rides on the backs of the geese.
I love the sound of the geese. A lonely call that seems to echo across the sky. The sky always seems gray when the geese are flying. Their big majestic wings spread wide,slowly moving up and down,their pace is slow and methodical. As  fall disappears ,larger and larger V shaped patterns of these birds appear in the sky. They are relentless and determined. They must reach the south,their existence depends upon it. It has been so since the beginning of time.
I have seen them land in the fields. They stop to rest and eat. I have seen them dot the landscape in such numbers as to be uncountable. I have seen their droppings cover everything in sight. Their personal calling cards. Not a pleasant sight to be sure. But to be truthful about it,it would be sad to not see them come anymore. Their is a price to be paid. A little clean up is worth it.
I'm not a hunter. I'm not sure when the season begins but it should be soon. Those that hunt will be hunkered down in their blinds waiting for their chance. It's a big business here on the shore. There are guides to take the inexperienced or those that have no property on which to hunt. The birds will be cleaned and dressed,for a fee. If done in accordance with the laws and the birds are eaten I don't have a problem with that. Killing,just for the sport of killing,I have a problem with. I have never eaten one personally. Never had the opportunity. I did have a goose once,but I believe it was a domestic goose. Like a duck raised on the farm. Not the same thing.
I will be hearing the geese for some time now. After a short time I will pay little attention to them. There honking will fade into the realm of familiar sounds again. Funny how our minds do that. Yesterday when I heard that honking my eyes turned immediately toward the sky searching for it's source. A familiar sound ,heard for the first time. It must be part of our primal nature. The sound of the geese signalling the coming of winter. Telling us to prepare. To seek shelter and warmth. A lonely,cold sound.
The old folks always spoke of signs. How they could tell the coming of the seasons,weather and all matter of things by the behavior of the animals. Watch the critters,they will tell you. Pay close attention to the sky and earth. Look closely at the wooly worms and the width of their stripes.What are the squirrels doing ? These signs and more where handed down through the generations. Some of that is being lost to us. With each succeeding generation some knowledge is lost and relocated into the world of myth. But remember all myths have some basis in truth. The honking of the geese is a warning. A warning to prepare and not to tarry longer. It is Gods way of blowing the trumpet to alert us. Get ready.
On a final note let me tell you this. I can only speak to the observation in my area of the world, but the winter is going to be long and cold. There will be lots of snow,too. How do I know ? The leaves are telling me. The leaves have started their change and many have already fallen. It is not the changing or the falling that is the indicator. The tell lies in their colors. This year their colors are not as vibrant. They are a little dull and subdued. They are also very dry,even after all the rain we have had. Already I can see the silhouettes of the trees against the morning sky. The geese have alerted me and awakened me from my summertime snooze. A time when the living was easy. Time to get up,get moving and get ready. Old man winter is coming to visit and it's gonna be a long one !

Everybody is doing it

With Halloween just around the corner I was thinking what a  strange holiday,is that the correct word,it is. What is it we are celebrating,exactly ? The dead. All Hallows Eve ? Sounds like something from Harry Potter. The deathly hallows or something like that isn't it ?
When we are children we just accept things for what they are. Christmas, we are taught, is Jesus's birthday. We can all understand that and the celebration to go along with it. Pretty cool that we get the gifts too ! Easter, he is risen and as a kid I never questioned why we got candy from a rabbit. Sounds good to me. And Thanksgiving was an easy one with the Pilgrims and all that. It all made good sense. This Halloween bit though ? I don't recall ever hearing an explanation for celebrating it. I must say I don't recall ever asking. It was fun and free candy so it must be alright. To this moment all I know is it has something to do with All Hallows Eve,also called All Saints Eve. At some point in history a day to remember the dead. I'm thinking it had something to do with the coming of winter and the crops. Could be wrong about that.
The thing is when you are children you just go with the flow. Dress up like a vampire,witch,ghoul(whatever they are) or whatever you like. Knock on strangers doors.  Threaten them if they don't give you candy. Hey,that sounds like fun ! It only works for one night though. That's alright let's go for it. No questioning the logic in it. As a kid I didn't care about the why of it. It doesn't make any difference.
I could look up a scholarly definition and explanation but I'm not. I don't really care. Didn't when I was a kid and still don't. It is just fun. The enjoyment of it changes throughout your lifetime. When you are young the actual trick or treating. Then perhaps the mischievous years. And for me, watching the Grand kids dress up and having their fun. I always enjoy watching all the little kids. How could you not.
The actual method of celebrating has changed a little since I was young. The times are regulated  now. Certain hours specified. Age limits are set. A lot more emphasis on safety issues. The costumes are far more elaborate. It's all good.
Why jack o lanterns,witches on broomsticks,and all things that go bump in the night ? I don't know.But using the logic of childhood, everybody is doing it. It is great fun for the kids.

Getting to know the neighbors

Yesterday I wrote about living in Maryland. How I am a foreigner in this land. I'm a resident of Greensboro but not a native. Never will be. I went on to say I'll probably be buried here. That is just the way it goes.
Well today I went to the cemetery to photograph some memorials. I do that as a service to others researching their family tree. I get requests in e-mail and try to find the memorial. The least I can do and hope others will do the same for me. As I rode very slowly through the lanes trying to read the names, I was thinking. A lot of those names are in here,must have been a large family. The oldest stones date back to the late 1800's. Fairly new in the overall picture. Back in my hometown on Long Island graves dating from the 1700's are not uncommon and a few prior to that. Still, you can see several generations all laid out in rows. All resting together.
The one thing that did occur to me, for the first time, was I am getting to know too many of the graves in there on a personal level. Prior neighbors and friends that have gone to their final glory. That is a marker of how long you have lived in an area. That and how many ancestors are there. I'm guessing I'll be the first in Greensboro.(ancestor that is). My son that lives in Greensboro has his two children that may stay in Greensboro. That is assuming he does . I can't see him going anywhere else. He is well established and running for re-election as town commissioner. He says his goal is to be Mayor some day.
Some people may think this is morbid talk, but not me. Fact is, I will die someday. Fact is, I gotta be buried somewhere. Just as simple as that. There are currently no Reicharts in the Greensboro cemetery. I don't really want to be the first, but the alternative doesn't appeal to me either. I'll be first, somebody has to do it.
Enough of that. Stating the obvious. But now having thought about all of that I guess I need to think about buying some real estate. Permanent real estate. That's a creepy thought. One of those things you gotta do, I suppose. I wouldn't want to leave it to someone else to deal with. It is only right to settle up your affairs as much as possible. Have to look into that. (Deep Sigh) I hate being older and responsible. Bring on senility !
Just fooling around. I expect to be here a good while yet. It could be a comfort to know where you are going exactly. I'm getting to know my neighbors ! We are going to be there awhile.

Settled

After twenty years of wandering,being directed really,I think I've finally settled down in Maryland. Never gave Maryland a thought before moving here. Maryland,the old line state,they call it. Has a couple of other nick names as well that escape me at the moment. I live on what is called the eastern shore. The name says it all. I live on the eastern shore of the United States. Did that in New York where I was born too. Only things different is I was on an Island and now I'm a little further south.

As good a place as any I suppose.I would like to be closer to the bay, but oh well,can't have it all. Maryland is a border state. By that I mean part of it was considered in the north and part of it was in the south. The Mason Dixon line runs not very far from where I live. Less than twenty miles in fact. As a result we have Rebels and Yankees. The Rebels are the more popular group,by far. Heard about them growing up in New York but never saw any. I'm a Yankee. Always knew that, but never gave it any thought. It's a pretty popular topic of conversation down here. Being called a Yankee ain't a good thing. I think it is all just silly. Grown men acting like a bunch of fools. And the kicker is most don't have any idea what they are talking about. I say little and just smile a lot. It's like a religion with these people and it is best not to offend them. It is a popular trend and will pass in time.

One odd little fact I read about Maryland is it has no natural lakes. It does have some ponds and some man made lakes but no natural lakes at all. Something to do with the glaciers not reaching this far south. Other southern states have natural lakes don't they ? Curious but according to Wikipedia,true. It was one of the thirteen original colonies and is mostly Catholic and Methodists. It was the last of the original colonies to ratify the articles of confederation. Number eight to become a state.

Does seem a little strange at times. I still have my New York accent. In reality it is everyone else that talks funny but I won't go into that. As a result I am immediately identified as a Yankee. And not just any old Yankee,a New York Yankee ! And them New York Yankees are the worst kind. Ask any Rebel and he will tell you that. So I have adapted a little and sprinkle a few, ya'll and over yonders, in my vocabulary. A good yee haw once in a while doesn't hurt.

And so I'm living here in this land as a foreigner. Always will be too. A Yank can't turn into a Rebel. That would be like a leopard changing his spots,it ain't happening. No matter, I wear my New York Yankees ball cap proudly. I still speak New York. I don't think the south will rise again. More than likely I will be laid to rest in this confederate soil. No, that ain't strictly accurate. If you go by the Mason Dixon line I'm in northern territory. Don't tell these old boys around here though.

Things our parents said

Don't sit so close to the television,you'll go blind.
Don't read in bed with a flashlight,you'll go blind.
You can't go in the water for at least thirty minutes after eating,you'll get cramps and drown.
Quit making that face or it will stay that way.
Put on clean underwear,you might get in an accident.
Because I said so !
Stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about.
Before a spanking ; this is going to hurt me more than you. (I don't think so )
You need to buckle down and apply yourself. (also popular with teachers)
Don't crack your knuckles,you'll get arthritis.
Wash behind your ears. (the most important part to be kept clean)
Get out of the night air,it'll make you sick.
Save your money.
Money doesn't grow on trees.
Maybe Santa Claus will bring it.
Wait until your birthday.
You don't need that.
Those clothes look ridiculous.
The music is too loud.
You can't understand the lyrics.
The person can't sing.
Eating chocolate gives you pimples.
While chewing gum; you sound like a cow.
Respect your elders.
Children should be seen and not heard.
I don't care what the other kids are doing.
I don't care what other parents allow.
I don't care what your sister said.
I don't care what is in style.
I don't care.
Ask your father (or mother)
What did your father(or mother) say ?
Go to the bathroom.
Try
That's too much ketchup.
That's too much salt.
Eat your vegetables.
Don't play with your food.
There are children in Africa starving to death that would love to have that food.
When I was a kid we had to eat everything on our plate.
If you stare at the tip of your nose too long, you'll become cross eyed
Don't blow your nose too hard or you'll break your eardrums.
Don't hold your nose shut while sneezing,you'll break your eardrums.
I had to walk to school. uphill,in winter,both ways.
Make your bed.
Clean your room.
Your room looks like a pig sty.
Chew your food.
Don't wolf down your food.
Use a tissue.
Sit up straight.
Stand up straight.
Quit slouching.
Brush your teeth.
Comb your hair.
You need a haircut.
Sit still.
It won't kill you to ( fill in the blank here )
Go to bed.
Get out of bed.
Wear a sweater.
Wear a coat.
Bundle up.
Say Please.
Say Thank You.
And a lot of NO's, Not Now,and we'll see.

These are just a few of the phrases and instructions that come to mind. I'm sure you can add your own favorites. How many times have you caught yourself saying the very same things to your children ? LOL I'm starting on the Grand Children with these tid bits of advice. Parents have probably been doing it since the beginning of time. Napoleon ! Get your hand out of your jacket. You'll pull the buttons off !

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Today

October 13 we celebrated the 236th birthday of the Navy. I had forgotten all about that. The day commemorates the official formation by Congress of our Navy. Happy Birthday Navy.
As any one of you that have read my blogs know, I am retired Navy. I was reminded of this occasion by a video on Facebook. A brief history. Pretty Good, if you already know about the Navy history stuff. There was no narration so if you didn't recognize some of the scenes and portraits it wouldn't have been as good.
Watching that short clip did bring back some memories.  It also got me to thinking about how few pictures I took during that time. Special occasions like promotions sure, but the everyday stuff, not too many. I was just there doing whatever and not really being aware of the history I was participating in. Isn't that usually the way of things ? We don't give much thought to it at the time. Always figure there will be another time. Well, I'll never be out to sea on a Navy vessel again. That is all part of the past. It is rapidly becoming a distant memory.
I certainly don't think of myself as any kind of hero. I don't believe I did anything unusual or special. Knew a lot of friends and shipmates that did the same thing as I. I do wish ,in retrospect,that I had taken more pictures and recorded more of the total experience. The only mementos I have from that period of my life are the certificates I was awarded. I have a few old uniforms,my ribbons and medals. That's about it. Seems like after twenty years I should have more.
I entered the Navy during the Vietnam war and retired a few years after Desert Shield/Desert Storm. Witnessed a lot of history during that time. Isn't it strange how we fail to see the significance of events until they are in our past. I was aware of events at the time,I was there after all,but didn't place a great deal of significance to them. Probably a good thing though. If we became unduly concerned or aware of current events it may influence our actions. That's what makes a hero a hero. He is not thinking about himself or history, he is just in the moment. Only later,sometimes much later, do we reflect upon those things. Of course one has to keep in mind things are usually better in the telling than the actual doing. We do tend to filter our memories.
I spent many days at sea. I spent many lonely hours on watch. I traveled all over the world. Been through hurricanes at sea and even a few wars. Twenty years of life dedicated to that occupation. And that is what it was to me, a job. Probably the very reason I didn't take more pictures. I will admit to being proud of my time in service. I served with honor. I am reaping the rewards from that as well. Financial and personal.
I'm not saying I didn't enjoy my time in the service. I am saying it is a lot more fun looking back upon those years. When I retired it is customary for the retiree to give a short speech. An address I guess you would call it. I had mine written down. I don't know what I did with it afterward. Kinda wished I had saved that. I do recall the jest of what I talked about. I mentioned all the changes I had seen occur over that twenty year time frame. The biggest one being allowing women to serve at sea. A pretty radical idea at the time. There were problems and adjustments to make. I saw don't ask don't tell come into effect. Another radical idea. I recall mentioning how ideas and attitudes change with the times but people do not. Basically people remain the same throughout time. No matter the time period in which you served the feelings were common. Being lonely for those left ashore, sharing stories of them with your shipmates and a mutual understanding of the job at hand. A camaraderie unique to being a sailor. My major point being it was the people I had met and served with that I would miss the most. Not the travel,not the ships, or the personal gains made. No, it was the people. I still miss them all. I am not in contact with any of the old shipmates. That is just the way of things. I would enjoy seeing some of them again and knowing how their lives have progressed. In another way it is probably best not knowing. Leave those pleasant memories and friendships in the past. That ship has sailed. (pun intended).
What I'm saying here is pay more attention to today. Live today to the fullest. Record everyday happenings as though each were a special occasion. They are. It is great to look forward and plan for tomorrow but don't neglect right now. 

In the poorhouse

In doing my research into my family tree I often read a lot of records. The majority of them are census records, but I find all kinds of records . Trying to unlock  the past can bring pleasant surprises as well as unpleasant ones.
A very pleasant surprise was finding the name and location of my Great Grandparents on my fathers side. No one in the family knew who these people where. An added bonus was finding living descendants of their relatives IE: my very distant cousins who graciously provided me with a picture of my Great Grandmother Catherine. Turns out she died while still young and my Great Grandfather survived her by many years. In an interesting and unpleasant twist to the story he died in the poor house. Literally in the poor house. These homes were also referred to as Almshouses. Before Medi- care and Social Security large group homes where run by the States to house those that where destitute,ill and homeless. There they where fed,clothed and given medical attention as well as a bed. All those able to work were compelled to do so. Eight hours a day,six days a week. It was a highly regimented life to be sure. I'm quite sure there were abuses. It was a rather sad thing to find my Great Grandfather died in one of those institutions. I haven't fully been able to complete that story. I need to travel to New York state to examine the records on file. Those records will reveal more clues as to the how and why of it all. I was pleased to discover that he was interred with the rest of his family and not buried in potters field at the Almshouse.
While reading what I could find about the Almshouse it struck me how different the times where. First they referred to the people as inmates. And that was when they were being kind, most of the time they called them paupers. They were made to get up at the first crack of dawn, really that is what the regulations state. Make their bed and sweep the floor. They rang bells to inform the inmates when it was time to eat. The whole thing was run with military precision. They had to work a full eight hour day and go to bed at precisely nine o'clock.
I found it disturbing that they referred to those people with mental issues as lunatics. Not only that, they divided them into two categories, mild lunatics and raving lunatics. The raving lunatics were kept in cells in the basement. The mild one were made to do whatever work they were capable off.
There was no leaving these places without court orders. You were placed there by court order. If you were ill or destitute you could petition the court to send you there. You could also just be sentenced there much like being sentenced to prison. There was hope of leaving if your situation changed.
That was the answer the government provided in the late ninth century and into the early twentieth century.
These homes, or Almshouses were ,for the most part,self sufficient. Crops were grown,products manufactured,dairies run etc. The overseers were paid by the state. It was a no nonsense deal. The inmates had few rights. The idea was a good one,on paper. I'm sure the system was full of abuses and the rights of the individual were mostly ignored. A far cry from today's standards. The thinking was just put the paupers and sick that can't afford healthcare in a group home. There they can be cared for. There we can make them contribute to society in a positive way,whether they want to or not. I'm sure the intent was well meaning and in the context of the times the people believed they were doing a great service. It was cost efficient as well.
By looking into the past you can gain an appreciation for what you have. Things like social security that we take for granted. Everyone complains how little it is but it is certainly better than nothing at all. Healthcare is a major topic today as it was back then. What to do. We still have no satisfactory answer to that problem. Not if we wish to maintain our dignity and personal rights. Like most people I started my family research out of curiosity. We all hope to find someone famous,rich or noteworthy in our past. I have found a few that are noteworthy for their accomplishments but no one famous or rich. It was sad to discover Great Grandfather forced to live in such conditions. But what I don't know is was it by his choice ? Could have been. I would think not as there had to be a stigma associated with being in those places. Even when I was a young boy growing up I would occasionally hear someone say, " you'll end up in the poorhouse." I didn't know that these were very real places and not a figure of speech. I never dreamed I would be related to anyone that was in one.

The Corn Doll

I'm not a real big fan of horror. There are enough bad things going on in the world without creating more. I did go through a period when I read a lot of it by one author, Stephen King.
For reasons I still can't explain I was captivated by his writing.  Then some of his stories were adopted for television. Misery is my favorite one. That movie just makes me wince every time I think about it. Kathy Bates was so convincing as the lead character. I think the first Stephen King television movie I watched was The Children of the Corn. Misguided children killing all the adults in town. A cult leader, He who walks behind the stalks, and ritual sacrifice. Just creeps me out man !
At about this time the wife and I took the kids to old Sturbridge village in Massachusetts. A living museum this town was an interesting place to visit. We watched as the farmers worked the land with horse and plow. Everything was being done the old fashioned way. The land was beautiful and no modern trappings in sight. They had a gift shop,of course, and being the dutiful tourists we went in. The shop was crammed full of handmade items and home baked goods. Pies,cakes,cookies,Jams and Jellies galore. Folk art decorative pieces. Wreaths made of vines and wooden shelves painted with country hearts. I remember spending some time in there admiring all that handiwork. I just love handmade objects. After having selected a few items we decided to check out. As I got to the counter there was a wooden barrel, or should I say cask, next to the counter that I hadn't noticed before. Peering inside that cask I saw them ! Corn Dolls ! My mind immediately traveled to that Stephen King movie. The Children of the Corn. I just had to buy one. Even though the things creep me out I had to have one. It is now part of my fall/Halloween decoration.
I know the movie had nothing to do with the corn doll. But for some reason an immediate association between the two was created, and exists to this day. I  picture some little girl hiding in the corn field, scythe by her side, talking and playing with the corn doll. Daddy is mean,Daddy needs to be punished. Oh my ! So why do I have that corn doll ? For the same reason you have to look at an accident. You just can't help it. It is a creepy thing for sure,at least to my mind, but I gotta have it.

The children of the corn need toys too !

Termites

Writing yesterdays post brought back memories. Good memories of a time and place gone by. A little town where we all knew each other and the restrictions were few. A time when a fella could just grab his clam rake or fishing pole and head on down to the water. No worries about licensees or permits. No concern about trespassing on anyones property.
When you could put your boat up in your yard for repairs. No matter if it took a week or several months. The neighbors understood. They didn't complain about that. Could have a car in the drive too. It being licensed was optional. You might be repairing that too. No law against that.
As a young man I could wander far and wide. All throughout Northwest woods and down by the harbor. Go uptown to main beach if the mood struck me. Hang out at the Dairy, a small store called G&T Dairy actually but we always referred to it as the dairy.Even took my bicycle on the ferry and went to Shelter Island a few times. Didn't have a lot of concerns about safety. Just don't fall overboard or get hit by a car.
I thought it was a large area but in reality it was an area of just a few square miles. Well, excepting going to Shelter Island,that was a trip ! Seven miles to get to the ferry. A pretty good pedal. Only did that a few times. Pedaled to Montauk one time a distance of 18 miles ! That was enough of that. Wasn't much to see in Montauk anyway. An old lighthouse and a set of big shark jaws mounted on the ceiling of a bar. The Blue Marlin I think but might be another place.
Yes, I remember a place that you could catch or dig up your dinner. Wander freely about without too much concern. Seemed like a rather lonely and back woods place to live. Nothing too thrilling or exciting about it. Never could figure out why all those people flocked out here in the summer. Well, we all knew they didn't have no beach in New York City. That's where most of them came from. Some came from a foreign land called New Jersey too. Now those people couldn't drive worth a tinkers damn. Why they came out there thicker than termites. In fact that is what my Dad always called them people, termites. Don't go uptown today Bub, the termites are out ! I knew exactly what that meant.
Now the rich and famous have overrun the place.The real estate prices out of reach for the common man. We always knew it was going to happen. It has been a slow progression. Shame too. Nothing stays the same. I expect people said the same thing a hundred years ago. That place still exists in my memories and always will.
Damn termites have eaten away at the foundation of the place. They haven't been able to rob the beauty of that place though. It's history is being preserved. It's all good.

The Montauk

She sat in the yard next to the house. Resting on blocks of wood and supported on the sides by long timbers holding her erect. She was 28 feet six inches in length with a beam of seven feet at the gunwales.Her paint was faded and peeling in places. The bottom was covered with a green colored growth and small mussels. A traditional looking craft with a raised windshield enclosing three sides. The wheelhouse as it was called. I thought it was a yacht !
Where or how my father came to possess her I don't know. I remember her name. " The Montauk "
It was written in bold letters on her stern. She was magnificent. A single six cylinder Gray marine engine was nestled amidships coupled to what Dad called a reverse gear. This transmission also made it travel forward but Dad always called it the reverse gear. The engine was covered with a large wooden box. Out through the side of that box came the exhaust stack. It was just a plain large pipe that stuck up in the air. Careful not to touch that as when the boat was operating it was very hot indeed. Traveling forward in the boat there was the door to the cabin. The door was only a few feet in height. There was a section just above the door that could be removed to allow you to stand erect while descending the two steps into the cabin. That piece usually remained open.
The cabin was spartan. There was an area down each side for sleeping. There were cabinets on the walls. She had ,if I remember correctly ,three port holes on either side. The head was in the bow. A small amount of lighting was installed that ran off the batteries. I vividly remember those big old batteries sitting in the rear of the cabin. Large braided wires connected them together. A single large round wire lead to a huge knife switch. That switch always reminded me of something out of a Frankenstein movie. Igor,throw the switch. From the switch the wire lead to a fuse panel with a spaghetti of wires running all directions. All of this fully exposed.
It was on this boat that my Dad taught me about caulking a wooden boat. He had brown grocery sacks full of what he called oakum. Oakum,in case you don't know is nothing more than hemp or jute fibers. Lightly coated with tar it makes an excellent sealant. After we had scraped all the loose paint off and cleaned all the joints out of loose material we began. Using a tool like a large flat chisel we drove this oakum in the space between the planks. Dad told me ,don't call them boards boy,they're planks when working on a boat ! A lesson I never forgot. We worked from stem to stern. All the while Dad explaining about how to build boats and their various parts. He explained to me how once that oakum got wet it would swell up and fill the seam making it watertight. It took some time but we got her done.
Next came the painting. We put what Dad called bottom paint on her up to the waterline. A special type of paint that resists marine growth. Ours was a red color. The rest of the boat was given a fresh coat of white.
Even the transom was painted white.It was beautiful. Little else was done to her. This was no pleasure boat. This was a working boat. Used mostly for scalloping, but some clamming  had been done with her.
I remember the smell of the cabin most of all. A mixture of wood,salt and fuel. I loved that smell and still do. It may sound like an odd combination but if I could bottle it, I would. A wonderful smell if ever there was one.
We went blue fishing with that boat. I recall trolling in three mile harbor and navigating through the gut. The gut was lined on either side by big granite rocks. The channel ran through there and could become very rough ,very quickly. A dangerous place to be. One had to pass through it to reach open water though. Aye Captain ,hold steady on the wheel and prepare to come about ! I helped pull many a scallop dredge over her gunwales as well.Well I remember the water running out of the scuppers and how slippery that deck became. The weather is normally quite cold when scalloping and that small cabin offered some relief from the elements. There was no heat in there but it did block the wind.
The day came when Dad sold that boat. I don't remember when or why. It just happened. As children we never questioned what Dad did or why he did it. She was an old boat when he acquired her. I'm guessing the upkeep on her was getting to be too much. How many of us got rid of those fine wooden crafts for the worry free material called,fiberglass. What a shame. Fiberglass my friends does not have the same wonderful smell as that old wood. The " Montauk " was a special boat. At one time she was" registered " That meant she didn't have to have those numbers painted on the sides of either bow. She was a registered vessel. A big deal and important. At least in my mind it was. When Dad owned it it was not registered and had numbers on it.
This wasn't the only boat named Montauk. I have heard of others. I doubt that she was the first . But I'll always remember that wonderful old boat. I do have two mementos from her. Her bell. It is a small bell made from brass. Dad kept that bell. He liked it and so do I. It is just stuck up in the attic for right now. Just sitting there and waiting for a new vessel. Perhaps it will find a new home someday. I'll have to remember to tell this story to the Grand Kids so they know about the bell and it's significance. The other item is the emergency bow light. This light ,with it's red and green lenses has a place to put a candle inside. There was a bracket fastened to the front of the cabin for mounting it. In that way if you suffer total lose of power you could still been seen. It makes a nice conversation piece. Been meaning to mount it on a board and light it up. Make a little project out of it.
This is just another memory from my youth. Growing up on an Island it is a good thing to know about boats and boat building.You never know.There is a whole lot more I wished I had paid more attention too. Youth is wasted on the young ! Somebody said that and they certainly are right about that.

Still rings true.

A Relic from the past.

Cures or excuses

With all the advertising the drug companies do on television I can't help but wonder, are they making cures or excuses ? Seems like there is a pill for just about anything and everything imaginable.
Don't feel like working for a living ? Not your fault, you probably need some medication. Feel a little down,no problem got a pill for that. Everything you can think of,they have the cure.
Now I'm not saying there aren't people out there who genuinely require these medications. There certainly are and I'm thankful that some relief can be provided.But as to the necessity of some,that's questionable in my mind.
What I am saying is there are some things you should learn to live with. When you get older, maybe your vigor isn't that of a twenty year old, that's a natural thing. Why try to medicate yourself back thirty years ? They do inform you to ask your doctor if your heart can stand it ! All the disclaimers attached to these drugs make me nervous. I don't know how you feel, but I ain't taking something that doesn't really have proven results and the disclaimer says, has been known to cause death, although we aren't sure if it was  the medication. Say What ! You don't know ? Yeah, give me a script for that.
And that's another thing. These companies spend thousands of dollars for this advertising. I can only assume they want to reach the greatest number of people possible for their money. So, to carry that thought a little further wouldn't they also word the commercial so most people would understand it ? Ever listen to one ? The acronyms and abbreviations are just a flyin'. Afib,psd, tnt,lsd or pad. Names of drugs mentioned like everyday greetings. Paxil ,Avandia or whatever.
Most of them I have no clue about at all. I have no idea what that drug is or it's use. My point here is this, an awful lot of people must know or the advertiser wouldn't do that. Seems strange to me that there are that many knowledgeable people on the subject. Either that, or I'm just living in a cave. If there really are that many users of a certain drug why advertise it in the first place ? Isn't an advertisement an inducement to buy a product ? Do I have a choice ? The answer to both questions is yes. I choose not to presume based on a television ad to tell the doctor what drug I need or do not need. Must be annoying to the doctors.
Well, to get back to my original thought. Are they providing cures or excuses ? My opinion is there are too many excuses being offered. Yes I'm older and my joints creak and moan a little bit. Deal with it. My hair is thinning, it happens. I'm not as active as I was thirty years ago, well no kidding ! I get depressed at times, probably because I'm human. Maybe if we quit looking to the drug companies to provide us with a " cure " for everything we would all be better off. Life progresses in a natural way. May not be the way you like it.
Deal with it ! And don't get me started with the " scooter store. " Their primary motto seems to be, " at no cost to me " No, the cost is to you and I. 

A Halloween To Remember

With Halloween fast approaching, everything is fast approaching at my age, I was talking with my wife about trick or treating. You know, back in the days of yore.The Grand kids had been out selecting their costumes and that is what sparked the conversation. Neither of us could recall buying any costumes or exactly what we wore.
Seems like our costumes were home made deals most of the time. I do remember having those one piece overall style costumes with the plastic mask. You remember, the kind where the material could burst into flames and the mask all but blinded you. They were usually a dark color so as not to be seen in the dark. The good old days.
Barring those I think we were usually pirates,hobos,cowboys,witches and some mummy's.The mummy thing usually didn't work out, kept coming unwrapped. I remember burning the end of a cork to use in blackening your face.( for the hobo look).
I do remember one year, not for what the costume was, but for the way the costume smelled. You see my father worked at a fish processing plant. There was,as you can imagine, a distinct odor associated with this process. Over time, we all but became immune to it.
Well, one year we decided to make our costumes using some burlap sacks my father had brought home from the factory. I can't say with certainty what we were supposed to be portraying. At any rate, there was a definite odor present, unnoticed by us.We always went to our Aunts house first. She lived just a short distance away. We got our candy alright but Aunt Bet was laughing and said, no need for you guys to knock, we could smell you coming ! There is no doubt whose kids you are. Smells like promise land ! ( Promise land was the name of the factory) I remember that because it was talked about for years afterwards.
The treats were got were even different back then. Got a lot of apples. Popcorn balls were popular too. And sometimes pennies of nickels. One unusual one I remember getting was a plastic bank. It was a pig wearing a top hat. Put a coin in the slot and he tipped his hat. Some rich person uptown was giving them out. We got a lot of penny candy. Homemade cookies or brownies might be in the offering as well. We didn't have too much concern over the candy being tainted in any way. Mom and Dad would insist on going through the candy to make sure it was "safe ", code for they took all the best stuff !
Funny how neither of us could remember in any detail about costumes. Remembered going alright and the goodies we collected. Of course it was fifty years ago ! Well it was for me anyway, my wife is still 29, just ask her. I don't know what her excuse is. Times were definitely different. I'm not sure if it was just that we were all more naive or was it that times were a whole lot safer. The costumes weren't ! But in my opinion all this " safety " takes some of the fun out. Ah, for the days of yore.
I still remember, " Trick or Treat for UNICEF "  those little orange boxes. Do they still do that ?

I'll be watching for these this year.

Man Vision

Honey, where did you put the guide ? It is right there, beside the chair. No it isn't ! And she walks into the room, goes beside the chair, and picks it up.
 I swear it wasn't there one second ago. I couldn't see it, I have man vision.
Man Vision is the inability to see objects that are not in the place they are expected to be.
Usually caused by a woman moving them.  It is never, I repeat, never the fault of the man, yet he will be blamed.
Man vision is the reason men can go into a store,buy only the item they went there for and leave. They do not see the sale signs or other advertising enticements. They expect to see the item in it's proper place,pick it up and leave.
There are exceptions of course, everything has exceptions.
If it involves sports,cars,tools or women man vision syndrome does not apply. Men can always see any of those objects clearly.  Some men even have an advanced form of Man Vision to be used in those situations.
The ability to scrutinize those objects in the smallest detail without appearing to be looking at the object at all.
 Especially useful when looking at other women. Or so I've been told. I wouldn't know about that.
The reason this occurs is because women have a natural tendency to place objects in unlikely places.
Like putting your socks in the sock drawer or shirts on hangers in the closet.
Men on the other hand just leave an object where they last used it. That way we have only to remember where we used it last and presto,we can find it. That is unless a woman has moved it. It only needs to be moved the smallest distance and it disappears. It starts early in a mans life, my mother used to move my stuff all the time. I was constantly asking, Mom where did you put my toy ?
I had already looked everywhere, but she would find it every time.Now my wife does the same thing. I'm thinking it is some secret cloaking power women must possess.Probably related to their ability to remember every little detail about your relationship. Like the date you were married and stuff ! It's not natural !
It is some kind of sick game women play with men. Hide the objects and laugh when we can't find them. Then uncloak them,yell at us and make us feel like we now owe them. It's a plot.
You see,  men have organized minds. We file things like location of objects depending upon usage requirements. If we may need that object in the near future,say a week or two, we just leave it where it is. No problem in locating it when we need it. Leaving objects in plain sight aids in locating the item as well. That's why men are the hunters. We don't get lost because we remember location. Also the reason men don't need maps or the GPS system. If a woman comes along and moves the mountain however,well that's a problem. Men are gatherers too. We go from location to location and gather up whatever we need. That's why we leave things spread out around the house,office ,garage or wherever. It is part of the organization process.
I'll bet bachelors don't have that problem. I've been to a few friends of mine houses and let me tell you they were super organized. Everything right out there in plain sight. Very little tucked away in hiding spots. Why I could have found anything he asked for. No secret cloaking abilities going on in that bachelor pad. On the downside though things that disappear in their places never reappear. They are just gone forever. I have no explanation for that. Maybe some female cloaking spill over from the neighbors or something ?
Man Vision, the inability to see anything that is not where it is expected to be. Not my fault !

The Last Rose

I had occasion to be over at my daughter in laws home. She has a wonderful home and very nice yard. The American dream personified.All that is missing is a picket fence. I'll have to speak with her about that one day.
I usually mow the grass or do the weed eating part anyway. I enjoy it and am glad to help out. I live in an apartment, so have no yard of my own to attend to, so I adopted hers. It is an arrangement that works well. I don't think my son minds too much either.
The grass cutting is about over for this year. Time to rake up the fallen leaves,pull up the tomato vines and clear the garden out. A final trim to the various bushes is in order as well. Patio furniture stored away and garden hoses drained to prevent freezing. All the little things to attend too. Then I noticed it, a final rose in bloom. There, on the rose bush climbing up the trestle, a series of blooms. All, save one, showing brown around their edges.
These roses are a pale pink in color. Almost a blush one might say. Little attention is paid to them. They are not fussed over or receiving special treatment,yet they thrive. Despite all I have heard about growing roses,they survive. My wife does occasionally trim them. She,like I, is no great gardener. Neither of us have special skill or abilities in that department. Put a plant in some dirt, water it and hope it grows. That's our method. We will use miracle grow when necessary.
The thing is as I looked at that rose I thought, the last rose of summer. Soon it will be gone and nothing but a bare branch will remain. A branch with thorns upon it and a few withered leaves. Nothing attractive about that. And there it will remain throughout the winter. Frost and snow will set on it and burden it's small branches. The cold causing it to hibernate,waiting for the warmth of spring.
So, I took a picture of it. I'll put this picture in a file on my computer. Then along about January of February I'll pull that picture up. Place it on the desktop and admire it for a while. It will serve as a reminder that come spring it's brother or sister will appear on the same branch.

When the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long
And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong
Just remember in the winter,far beneath the bitter snow
Lies the seed,that with the suns love,in the spring becomes the Rose.

                                                                      Bette Midler

Thoughts

Did you ever want to say something but just know better ? Something that is on your mind but shouldn't be spoken aloud ? C'mon, we all have those thoughts. Mostly I think when we get angry or upset with others. Then we tend to have bad thoughts and make harsh judgments. Mom always said, if you don't have something nice to say,don't say anything at all. Even when it is the truth ! Don't hurt someones feelings.People will think you are vain and conceited.
It is a wise man that tempers his thoughts with kindness and consideration. Far better to keep ones opinions to ones self at times. Oh I have met those that just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. Those people that have no regard for others feelings. I've met a few that do that in an effort to be funny. And even some that genuinely believe they are giving constructive criticism.There is little you can do about them.
I think we all have someone we can take into our confidence. Someone to share this secret thought with. Funny how it is such a release to be able to speak your thoughts out loud or barring that put them into print. There is always the risk of being misunderstood. Even by those closet to us,the risk is there. Putting those thoughts into print is a whole new dimension. I wouldn't recommend it. Far too easy to be misunderstood in that medium. I have had the idea of a secret journal. After my passing it would be " discovered " and all is revealed. The plain unvarnished truth,no holds barred,this is what I think she-bang ! But further thought on that leaves me thinking that probably wouldn't be a good idea. Not that I believe I have a stellar reputation or anything like that, but a secret journal may contain a few surprises. Some of them others may not like ! Some may even alter whatever conception those closest to me may have had. Wouldn't want to change that. I should say I wouldn't want to risk damaging whatever positive thoughts I have left behind.
I have mentioned this in past blogs and I still think this way. I want to grow really old. The reason I want to grow really old is simple. The elderly get to pretty much say whatever is on their mind without repercussion.
To speak freely. All older people I have had experience with did this and they always told the truth. No hidden agendas with them. They just spoke the plain truth. I admire that. They were not mean or spiteful about what they were saying. They had no intent to hurt others. Maybe it is because they have held their tongue for so long.
Guess I'll just wait it out. In the meantime I'll try to keep my thoughts about certain things to my myself. That secret journal though, it is an interesting idea. Well,now it is no secret is it ? Or is it ?

Decorations

It is getting time to decorate.Used to be Christmas was the only time of year to really decorate the outside of your home. That isn't so anymore. Sometime back I saw people hanging Easter eggs in trees in their yard,a very curious thing to me, and lately I have seen lighted pumpkins appearing in them as well. I'm thinking maybe,just maybe,we are going a little overboard with this decorating stuff.
I admit I have different items I hang on my door for the different seasons and various holidays. I keep a few window clings around too. The grand kids may make a few decorations that will be posted on the fridge or taped to the wall in the hallway. I wouldn't say I go all out for every occasion. Some years back,when my own kids were younger, we would do quite a bit for Halloween. Christmas has always been the big one. I have even scaled down that a bit over the years. I suspect most people do.
It is just not the decorating for every holiday but the extent of the decorations and how far in advance they are erected. Although if it is going to take me a few days to put them up, I suppose I would want to do that early so I could enjoy them longer. I have seen some displays that would compete with any park ! I am of the opinion that too many and it just looks tacky ! A moderate display tastefully done is what I enjoy the most.
I wonder how this came to be ? How did this get out of hand ? Is it trying to keep up with the Jones ? It is trying to show everyone how much spirit you have ? Or is it as simple as, it has become fashionable. And fashion,as we all know, doesn't have to make sense. It is just the fashion.
I do tend to think that nowadays everything is getting to be a bit elaborate. Nothing simple any more.  Few holiday displays do not contain some form of lighting or music. Few are homemade. When I was little a piece of a bed sheet wrapped around a basketball and hung from the tree was a ghost. Scarecrows were just sticks with old clothes on them. A string of Christmas lights across the roof line of your house was pretty much all out. Might have a few candles in the windows. Those candles are year round things now. As for me, I still enjoy the simple displays the best. A natural wreath hung on the front door says Merry Christmas. I want a real Christmas Tree ! No plastic please. It will not be erected until late December, just a few days before and comes down on New Years day.

A number of homes around here have their Halloween decorations up. I went up to the attic and retrieved my two ghosts. One is the traditional white and the other is a pumpkin orange. Had them for a number of years now. You could say I scaled back my decorating considerably. I'm sure the kids will want to add something and that is fine with me. Maybe I'll teach them how to make a traditional scarecrow this year or a basketball ghost. Less is better and I can't wait for that to come into fashion. Eggs and pumpkins in trees ? Really.

The beat goes on

Tomorrow my sister turns sixty. Wow, who would have thought that would happen ? I'm the youngest at 58. I never thought I would get " old." I really never thought my sister would be sixty ! What's going on here ?
Mom is 82 now, but that is no surprise,she has always been old. Like your grand parents. They were born old.
My own birthday didn't cause much of a stir in me. As I said,I'm fifty eight now and that ain't old. But sixty now, that's a whole new ballgame,another decade for Gods sake !
My sister lives in Florida. I don't get to visit with her very often. Saw her a couple years ago for a few hours. We were in Florida going to Disney World and made the trip to her place. I have no idea when I will ever make it back to Florida and she has no plans to head north. Mom lives in Florida too, and my sister does go see her on occasion. I'm glad that they get together.
I must say my sister is a young sixty though. Her husband has a motorcycle and they take rides together. She is not too old for a road trip to bike week ! They have lots of projects they are doing together and the grand kids keep them both young. I know how that is. No time to slow down when the grand kids are around
I do have two brothers Harold,the eldest lives here in Maryland, and I see him every now and again. He turned 64 this September.Brother Dan, I never see him, is 62. Seems a little strange when you write it down. Almost like role call at the retirement home or something !
After we all left home and went our separate ways we have not gotten back together much. All too busy living our lives I suppose. I was in the Navy and moved around a lot. My sisters husband was a Air Force guy and they moved around . And my brothers,well, they were around somewhere. Now we are all grown up (sorta) and really don't know a whole lot about each others lives anymore. The same closeness we had as children is long gone now. Visiting with them is like visiting a close friend more than visiting a brother or sister. Of course, that is only supposition as I don't really know what it is like to grow to adulthood with your siblings. I wonder about that sometimes. Would we have maintained that closeness, or like so many others you hear about , would there have been a rift between us ? Family doesn't necessarily mean friend ! You know what I mean ?
I do wonder if we had all stayed together in our little hometown what that would have been like. Would we have been like the Waltons ? Or perhaps more like the Hatfields and McCoys ! Sometimes families don't get along because they are too close. You wind up saying things that you shouldn't. Even though you are only trying to help and give good advice. It is something to think about.
Tomorrow is also my grand daughter Shyanns' birthday. She will be eight. She lives in New York and I see her a few times every year,so far. My sister is her Great Aunt ! I had a great Aunt named Mildred. My sisters name is Mildred too. Ironic isn't it ? Shyann born on the same day as her Great Aunt Mildred. I wouldn't call her Mildred though. We have always called her Millie. Shyann has yet to meet her.
Yes, each of us went down our own paths. We each have our own role to play. We each have our own conception of what the others have or have not done with their lives. Choices made. It would be nice if we could all just sit and talk about it all. Talk with no reservations, like we did as children.
Happy Birthday to my sister !

my sister and I

Born on an Island

I grew up on eastern long island. If you look at a map of  Long Island you would notice it is shaped like a fish. The eastern end is the tail of the fish. I grew up on the southern fluke. This fluke at its widest part is six miles across and in at least one place less than a mile. The town of East Hampton were I was raised is the easternmost town in the United States. Who knew.
Growing up there I never gave it much thought. Living on an Island. Go any direction but due west and you run into water. The Atlantic Ocean or one of several bays. I figured everyone could go from the Ocean to the Bay just as easily as I did. Took that for granted. Never realized we were the easternmost town in America either. Wonder why no one ever told me that fact.
The old adage you don't miss it till it's gone is certainly true. When I was young and living there I paid little attention to the  history or the beauty of the place. It was just home. A place to live. I always did like the place and didn't have big dreams about leaving. Wound up joining the Navy and after about 22 years,living in Maryland.
East Hampton always had a reputation for being beautiful. Always did have the rich artist crowd in the summer months and later the celebrity bunch. They lived mostly around the Ocean and I never gave them folks much thought. I had nothing to do with them and could have cared less about their comings and goings. I would occasionally see some celebrity or famous person on the street. Didn't care then and don't care now.
They are just people to me. I admit it is pretty cool to see them out and about but I have never asked them for autographs or anything like that. I t was just another thing I took for granted. Doesn't every town have celebrities walking around ?
East Hampton is the home of home sweet home. The little salt box home sits right there on main street next to the Episcopal church. John Howard Payne the author of the song lived there. It is this very home that he wrote about in his song.  At least that is the story, although there is some debate among scholars about that. I say it is. Kinda cool having Home Sweet Home in your home.I have visited that historic home on many occasions. Knew the caretaker and he would let me in there whenever I wanted, no charge. The perks of being a hometown boy !
East Hampton is chock full of windmills too. I was used to seeing them and gave it little thought. Didn't most towns have a windmill ? We had one that still worked and they would grind corn with it once a year to sell to the tourists. Got mine free, another perk. These windmills are the old dutch style mills. Very nice. And for the most part well taken care off. Pieces of history sitting right there. Never gave that much thought either as East Hampton has lots of history. Old town as far as that goes. Never realized that until living in other towns. East Hampton was settled in 1648, Greensboro where I live now was incorporated in 1826, just a baby. Their definition of old and mine are a little different. It is on the eastern shore of Maryland though,so that much is similar.
Horace Greely famously said, Go West Young Man,Go West. Well I was born out east,in fact in the easternmost town in the country. I have traveled all over the world and home was always East. Once I made it to Long Island I knew all I had to do was keep going East and bear south at the fork. Now when I travel to the city of Baltimore on my return I always see this one sign. After getting off the Chesapeake Bay bridge the sign says, " Welcome to the Eastern Shore " I've always been there ! I'm still not too far from the bay,although farther than I would like to be and the Ocean is within a reasonable driving distance if you plan to stay awhile, say more than four hours or so.
Went out to California once and the ground shook. Haven't been back. Thinking I'll stay out east. Sorry Horace but I won't be taking your advice. Salt water is mixed into my blood and I like to see the sun rise up  over the water. I enjoy reading about the mountains and the plains of this great country. I would like to see some of the interior. In my heart though, I'll always be on the coast. I'll always be in the east. And I have mentioned it before but it bears repeating my favorite poem starts with, " I must go down to the sea again,to the lonely sea and the sky. And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by."
I suppose that comes from being born on an Island.

Did I mention the lighthouse at Montauk ?
some history there too !
about 18 miles east of my house on the Island.

Understand ?

I must start with giving credit where credit is due. A friend of mine,who also writes a great blog by the way,gave me the idea for this commentary. Thank You Barbara !

It began when my friend mentioned how easily we can be misunderstood when writing.Whether it be e-mail or text messages or more rarely these days, a letter. The recipient may read into things that are not our intent. I myself have a tendency to write run on sentences in an attempt to avoid this. Doesn't always work and sometimes I lose my audience. Hard to get to the point sometimes. I hate being misunderstood ! I try to be as clear in my thoughts and the way I express them as possible. Problem is, not everyone thinks the same way I do or shares my sense of humor.
I completely understand what she is saying. I also sympathize with her dilemma. She did suggest that we make actual phone calls to one another where you actually speak with the other person. Radical idea ! I like it. I might even try that one day. Of course I would have to send a text message first to let them know I was calling or they might not answer. I don't usually answer unfamiliar phone numbers anymore. Leave a message if it is important and no I don't want to buy siding.Things are complicated nowadays !
She also mentioned how this could be particularly true in a text message. They do tend to be short and filled with abbreviations. I'm not familiar with all the ones being used so it does lead to some misunderstandings !
Oh the challenges we face in this modern world.
When I arrived at work that day I was thinking about all that. Now,at the grocery store there are young girls that work the register. All in their middle to late teens. They get text messages constantly, a problem at the store, and have to be reminded to not use their cell phones or androids( sounds like star wars) while working.
It is a distraction from work and to the customers.On occasion to leads to some teen drama ! I asked one of them if she ever makes a real phone call to a person. She told me no. She sends them a text to meet her somewhere and then they talk. So basically what I got from that was, if you want to speak with me, make an appointment. Guess we are all too busy to talk anymore. I asked her how often would you say you talk to your boyfriend ? Every day was the response, but she said she sends him a message about every couple hours or so,except of course when working. (right)
This short conversation lead me to tell her about a few things I did as a young guy. I told her about sending my girl a letter and putting the stamp on upside down. She had no clue what that meant. I explained that was code for, I Love You. I told her how a young lady might add  her scent to the return letter. She found that amusing. I told her how the letter may have SWAK written across the back. Again, no clue. I told her it was. sealed with a kiss. I also told her the letter might also contain some lipstick kisses ! She thought that might be sweet. She did say she thought she saw that once in a movie. About world war two or something. The assistant manager, a lady about my age was listening in and added a few thoughts of her own. This young lady seemed amused by the fact that us old dinosaurs would have had any love interests ! Like most young people she figured we were born old ! We were never teenagers.
I think it is a shame these young people will not know those joys. Those scented letters we treasured for quite a while. Those letters were also private and personal. A text message just doesn't seem the same to me. Hard to scent too ! I remember sending letters even when we were only gone for a short time. Or sending a postcard from a distant place. Might be as far away as fifty miles or more ! And pictures ! Used to get those pictures in those little booths for fifty cents or a dollar. They were something ! Now just click your phone. Doesn't have the same appeal.
Yes all this from the mention of being misunderstood.I hope you understand what it is I'm trying to say here.
But then again I'm not sure I know either. Well that is why the title random thoughts and memories. These things just come to me. Sometimes the inspiration comes from another. Thanks Barbara.