I have made a concerted effort, on behalf of you....my readers, to watch as many movies as I can while on vacation....and all the while trying to do some reading also.
Man oh man....I can't wait until retirement! Here's the latest:
1) Bad News Bears--I refer, of course, to the recent update starring Billy Bob Thornton. BBT is sort of an acquired taste, as he's made some really horrible movies, and others that are absolute cult classics (Bad Santa anyone?). Here he steps into the Walter Matthau role of Morris Buttermaker, drunken wreck of a former baseball player, who is bribed into coaching a little league baseball team. Here's the amazing part: He's great in the role. He's even better than Matthau (which is really saying something). He gives the role a bit more believability than Matthau did, and adds an even sleazier background (he's a pest control guy, lives in a trailer park, likes to check out the girls playing softball on the next field over). Its a very solid performance by BBT, who is matched by Greg Kinnear, continuing to add to an already impressive resume in his role as the rival coach that was played by Vic Morrow in the original.
I always thought that Morrow's take on the role was one of real evil--here, Kinnear makes the character sort of a pathetic weasel. He seems to be channeling the ghost of former MASH character Frank Burns in this performance, and he's good at it.
The kids aren't as good as they were in the original, but there not bad.....especially the fat kid playing the catcher and the wheelchair bound kid who has managed to get a spot on the roster. Its all good fun....at the very least the equal of the original. And we really can't say that about a lot of films, can we? ****
2) Into the Blue---I remember when I was a teenager going to the movies and seeing a film based on a Peter Benchley novel called The Deep. It was a fairly average movie, but what everyone remembered was how awesome Jacqueline Bissett looked in a wet t-shirt while she was scuba diving. The film wasn't great, but it sure the hell was great to look at. And in a lot of ways, so is this movie. Everyone in the movie is so damn good looking it makes you sick. Jessica Alba is so hot, your remote practically smokes.
Paul Walker is absolutely ripped and even Scott Caan, playing the sorta weasel friend role has a six pack across his stomach. How in the hell do all those people in the Bahamas manage to find so much time to work out? Decent adventure tale, with the hot scuba divers trying to outwit the evil drug dealers.....but they all look great. ***1/2
3) Cinderella Man--a few years back Ron Howard hooked up with Russell Crowe and made A Beautiful Mind. That movie won about a zillon awards, most deserved and now they're back again with the tale of depression era boxer James J Braddock, who rose up from abject poverty to fight for the heavyweight championship of the world.
Crowe is sorta a huge jerk in real life....but man oh man, can he ever act. And Renee Zellweger, in her best role since Jerry Maguire, manages somehow to be from Texas but pick up a near perfect New Jersey accent for her performance. They are both matched by the great Paul Giamatti as Braddock's manager. Its a great film, not just as a boxing movie, but as a look at the struggles that average people went through during the depression. Very good, and highly recommended. **** 1/2
4) The Killing--I was lucky enough to stumble upon this gem this morning on TCM.
This was Stanley Kubrick's very first movie, and you could see the greatness that was ahead of him. Its the fairly simple story of a robbery, told from a number of points of view. There are no superstars here, but a lot of faces you'll recognize from terrific character roles throughout their careers (Sterling Hayden, Elisha Cook Jr & Vince Edwards---who is outstanding as a vain playboy here). Some have said that this may be the finest crime drama ever made. I don't know if its that good, but its a real good movie, that really shows you a gritty, dirty side of the late 50's that wasn't shown much.
**** very good stuff
5) Serendipity--now, unlike Must Love Dogs, which I reviewed the other day, here is a fine example of John Cusack making a good romance movie. Here the object of his affection is Kate Beckingsdale, looking so good you just want to jump through the screen, and both are ably supported by Jeremy Piven and Molly Shannon. No, really.
Molly Shannon. She's really good in this performance. ***3/4 good romanctic stuff
6) Dazed & Confused--this is one of those movies that I watch on t.v. everytime its on.
Why? Well, pretty simply because I knew EVERY kid in the movie. I would've been a sophmore when this film was set, and I knew all the characters. The burnouts, the jocks, the elitist geek who thought they were so above it, the ridiculously hot girl going out with someone who's an idiot....there all here. Okay, so we didn't have the creepy older guy hangin out around our school (a hilarious Matthew McConaghey) and we didn't have that disturbing ritual of beating and humiliating incoming freshmen. Other than that....it could've been old Plantation (FLA) H.S. back in the day. And if you are into classic rock, the soundtrack absolutely is SMOKIN. ****1/4
Yep, I have a movie about a bunch of pothead teenagers in the 70's rated above a Kubrick film....hey, no one said life was perfect.
Later,
Jeff
Thursday, December 29, 2005
Monday, December 26, 2005
12/26/05--Holy Cow---MOVIE REVIEWS!!
First of all, I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and got a visit from Santa.
I thought I'd do something I haven't done in the proverbial coon's age---review some movies! Because of the vacation time that I've actually had a chance to take advantage of, I've been watching some movies lately.
1) Batman Begins---****---I was really surprised, because I liked this movie a LOT.
Christian Bale makes an excellent Batman, Liam Neeson is a sinister villian and Katie Holmes is, well.....she's pretty hot and you can see why Tom Cruise would want to hook up with her--other than that, she's window dressing. A special mention however, goes out to Cillian Murphy, who is absolutely TERRIFIC in his roll as the scary psychologist//Sandman. Way, WAY better than any other Batman film. I realize that may not be saying a lot, but this is as good as the recent Spiderman movies.
2) Must Love Dogs--**1/2---okay, so if I told you that we had a romantic comedy, and it starred Diane Lane & John Cusack--certainly two of the most likeable movie stars working today--and had solid support from fine actors like Stockard Channing, Christopher Plummer & Elizabeth Perkins.....wouldn't you think that you had a date movie classic forthcoming? So would I. And its not that it wasn't "okay"....it just wasn't as good as the sum of its parts. I liked the romance between Lane & Cusack, but could've cared less about Lane's family and all its foibles. Merely okay.
3) The 40-Year-Old Virgin--now, here's a movie with a concept that is pretty funny.
Guy manages to go through his whole life (well, up until he's funny), and just never meets the right woman...and his friends find out and what happens next. Right away you have a movie that should be funny just from the plot, especially if you have the right cast (Steve Correll--from t.v.'s The Daily Show & The Office is going to become a huge, huge star). But by taking the plot, and making it raunchy...and by that I mean REALLY really raunchy...and still managing to keep the romantic subplot sweet and believeable....you've created a modern classic. This is one funny movie--both ways.
Raunchy & sweet. You don't find that in many movies. ****1/2
4) Deuce Bigalow--European Gigolo--aha! Now here is an example of a movie that is raunchy and TRIES to have a sweet side--but it just doesn't work. There are plenty of raunchy parts, and some are pretty funny and some are either gross or don't work, but the sweet side is totally ridiculous and unbelieveable. Its amazing to me that Adam Sandler has become a huge movie star. Its even more amazing to me that Rob Schneider found a niche to even make movies based on his "talent". The first movie in this series was fairly raunchy and disgusting, but had enough funny sight gags to make it a fun 90 minute deversion. Compared to this film, that film was practically a Woody Allen film. * (that's one star)
Later,
Jeff
I thought I'd do something I haven't done in the proverbial coon's age---review some movies! Because of the vacation time that I've actually had a chance to take advantage of, I've been watching some movies lately.
1) Batman Begins---****---I was really surprised, because I liked this movie a LOT.
Christian Bale makes an excellent Batman, Liam Neeson is a sinister villian and Katie Holmes is, well.....she's pretty hot and you can see why Tom Cruise would want to hook up with her--other than that, she's window dressing. A special mention however, goes out to Cillian Murphy, who is absolutely TERRIFIC in his roll as the scary psychologist//Sandman. Way, WAY better than any other Batman film. I realize that may not be saying a lot, but this is as good as the recent Spiderman movies.
2) Must Love Dogs--**1/2---okay, so if I told you that we had a romantic comedy, and it starred Diane Lane & John Cusack--certainly two of the most likeable movie stars working today--and had solid support from fine actors like Stockard Channing, Christopher Plummer & Elizabeth Perkins.....wouldn't you think that you had a date movie classic forthcoming? So would I. And its not that it wasn't "okay"....it just wasn't as good as the sum of its parts. I liked the romance between Lane & Cusack, but could've cared less about Lane's family and all its foibles. Merely okay.
3) The 40-Year-Old Virgin--now, here's a movie with a concept that is pretty funny.
Guy manages to go through his whole life (well, up until he's funny), and just never meets the right woman...and his friends find out and what happens next. Right away you have a movie that should be funny just from the plot, especially if you have the right cast (Steve Correll--from t.v.'s The Daily Show & The Office is going to become a huge, huge star). But by taking the plot, and making it raunchy...and by that I mean REALLY really raunchy...and still managing to keep the romantic subplot sweet and believeable....you've created a modern classic. This is one funny movie--both ways.
Raunchy & sweet. You don't find that in many movies. ****1/2
4) Deuce Bigalow--European Gigolo--aha! Now here is an example of a movie that is raunchy and TRIES to have a sweet side--but it just doesn't work. There are plenty of raunchy parts, and some are pretty funny and some are either gross or don't work, but the sweet side is totally ridiculous and unbelieveable. Its amazing to me that Adam Sandler has become a huge movie star. Its even more amazing to me that Rob Schneider found a niche to even make movies based on his "talent". The first movie in this series was fairly raunchy and disgusting, but had enough funny sight gags to make it a fun 90 minute deversion. Compared to this film, that film was practically a Woody Allen film. * (that's one star)
Later,
Jeff
Saturday, December 24, 2005
12/24/05---Ho, Ho, Ho....Merry Christmas to all!!
I read this online today, and thought it was pretty cute....its, The Night Before Christmas--Notre Dame style.
ND 'Twas the Night Before Christmas
"Twas the night before Christmas, when all through South Bend
Not a creature was stirring, neither rooster nor hen"
The banners were hung on the stadium with care,
In hopes that St. Charlie soon would be there
The alumni were nestled all snug in their beds,
With dreams of Leahy and Holtz in their heads;
While the students at the Grotto, down by the lake,
Were just giving thanks for a long winter break,
When out on those quads there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The Dome with a crest of new-fallen snow
Gave a luster of mid-day to a campus below
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
A high-powered offense: the champions next year!
With a large and proud leader, so friendly and nice
I knew in a moment it must be Coach Weis
As fast as Four Horsemen, onward they came
He whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now Hoyte, Now Samardzija, Walker, Fasano
On Stovall, On Shelton, Wooden, Anastascio"
To the top of the rankings, to the top of them all
"Now throw a-way, run a-way, and dive for the ball!
We will move like the wind, our runners will fly
And just for balance, we'll take to the sky!"
So up to the top of the rankings they flew
With a big book of plays, and Brady Quinn too
And then in a twinkling, to the sound of the cleats
The scoring and wins, I forgot past defeats
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney, Coach Weis came with a bound
He was dressed with his rings, and headset to boot
And his clothes were all drenched with Gatorade and soot
A number of victories he carried on his back
And he smiled as he turned and presented a sack
of trophies--how they twinkled! Like heaps of gold treasures
His cheeks were like roses, his wisdom p! ast meas ure
Weis commanded the team on fourth downs to throw
Through hail and through fog, through sleet and through snow
His genius caused points in the forties and fifties,
to hearten alumni and keep our stats spiffy
Weis had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed, like a BCS bowl-ful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, and so sure of himself,
That I cheered when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know, Ohio State would be dead
He boasted not a word, praise makes not his day
But all now know, for the title we'll play
And laying a finger to the side of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the rankings we rose
At his departure I heard Trooper McCarthy say;
If your sleigh flight looks fishy, you'll be the catch of the day!
Weis sprang to the roof, to his team gave a cheer
And away to a victory in the Fiesta next year;
And I heard him call plays, for winning that game
"Merry Christmas to all. And love thee Notre Dame!
(Written by John Rosemeyer)
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
Indeed.
Later,
Jeff
ND 'Twas the Night Before Christmas
"Twas the night before Christmas, when all through South Bend
Not a creature was stirring, neither rooster nor hen"
The banners were hung on the stadium with care,
In hopes that St. Charlie soon would be there
The alumni were nestled all snug in their beds,
With dreams of Leahy and Holtz in their heads;
While the students at the Grotto, down by the lake,
Were just giving thanks for a long winter break,
When out on those quads there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The Dome with a crest of new-fallen snow
Gave a luster of mid-day to a campus below
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
A high-powered offense: the champions next year!
With a large and proud leader, so friendly and nice
I knew in a moment it must be Coach Weis
As fast as Four Horsemen, onward they came
He whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now Hoyte, Now Samardzija, Walker, Fasano
On Stovall, On Shelton, Wooden, Anastascio"
To the top of the rankings, to the top of them all
"Now throw a-way, run a-way, and dive for the ball!
We will move like the wind, our runners will fly
And just for balance, we'll take to the sky!"
So up to the top of the rankings they flew
With a big book of plays, and Brady Quinn too
And then in a twinkling, to the sound of the cleats
The scoring and wins, I forgot past defeats
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney, Coach Weis came with a bound
He was dressed with his rings, and headset to boot
And his clothes were all drenched with Gatorade and soot
A number of victories he carried on his back
And he smiled as he turned and presented a sack
of trophies--how they twinkled! Like heaps of gold treasures
His cheeks were like roses, his wisdom p! ast meas ure
Weis commanded the team on fourth downs to throw
Through hail and through fog, through sleet and through snow
His genius caused points in the forties and fifties,
to hearten alumni and keep our stats spiffy
Weis had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed, like a BCS bowl-ful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, and so sure of himself,
That I cheered when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know, Ohio State would be dead
He boasted not a word, praise makes not his day
But all now know, for the title we'll play
And laying a finger to the side of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the rankings we rose
At his departure I heard Trooper McCarthy say;
If your sleigh flight looks fishy, you'll be the catch of the day!
Weis sprang to the roof, to his team gave a cheer
And away to a victory in the Fiesta next year;
And I heard him call plays, for winning that game
"Merry Christmas to all. And love thee Notre Dame!
(Written by John Rosemeyer)
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
Indeed.
Later,
Jeff
12/24/05---Now here's something I almost NEVER do...
I'm going to ask you to help me out. There's currently a proposed bill in the Florida House....Bill #1197, which would lower the retirement requirements for employees under the state of Florida Retirement System from 30 years of employment to 25 years.
Of course, since I am just about coming up to my 20th year (YIKES!) on 1/26/06, this bill has TONS of interest for me.
Let me reprint what I wrote to some other employees:
Hey everybody....as some of you know, I recently sent an email out to my state legislator, Ari Porth. I have known Ari for a few years now, as he has been the assistant state attorney in charge of the child truancy department with the state attorney's office.
I wrote Ari and asked him about a bill that I had been told about, which would LOWER the requirements for those of us within the state of Florida's retirement system to 25 years (from 30). This would include that the candidate also be a minimum of 50 years old to be considered. I expected to eventually hear from him....and did. THE NEXT DAY.
The next day his legislative aide wrote me a nice letter explaining the status of the bill in question (House Bill #1197) and told me what the history of the bill was, etc etc.
I went to work and mentioned this to a few people, who suggested I send out an email to everyone who might be effected by this bill---including clerks office employees, judicial assistants, state attorneys, public defenders and court administration staff. Employees of the Broward Sheriffs Office get retirement after 25 years because they are considered people who work under "hazardous conditions"---i.e., working with prisoners. Hello!! Every in-court clerk that I know deals with prisoners on a daily basis!! Why aren't we given the same sort of consideration???!!!! Let Ari know that!
Then, when I returned home later that day....I got a personal phone call from Ari thanking me for inquiring about the bill and trying to answer any questions regarding it. He gave me the pro's and con's of the issue...which he, just for the record, IS CO-SPONSOR OF. HELLO!!
I really believe that Ari is a man who can help all of us who are interested in this issue. However, you know what they say.......THE SQUEAKY WHEEL GETS THE GREASE!!!!!!
I'm enclosing a link to Ari's website in the Florida House....which also has a link to his email address within the House. I urge you, if this issue interests you....to contact him, and if nothing else....tell him that you are interested in House Bill # 1197!!!!! I really believe the best way to get some action on this issue is to keep it fresh in the minds of our legislators.
I think Ari will get behind this bill on our behalf if we let him know this is something we all would be interested in.
Ari Porth can be reached by going to this link:
Florida House of Representatives - Ari Abraham Porth
Let him know how you feel about House Bill #1197 and how much you appreciate his support of this bill!!
Now, I'll get off of my soapbox.
Later,
Jeff
PS...if you know anyone else who is effected by this bill, and who you think might be interested, please pass it along to them.
Of course, since I am just about coming up to my 20th year (YIKES!) on 1/26/06, this bill has TONS of interest for me.
Let me reprint what I wrote to some other employees:
Hey everybody....as some of you know, I recently sent an email out to my state legislator, Ari Porth. I have known Ari for a few years now, as he has been the assistant state attorney in charge of the child truancy department with the state attorney's office.
I wrote Ari and asked him about a bill that I had been told about, which would LOWER the requirements for those of us within the state of Florida's retirement system to 25 years (from 30). This would include that the candidate also be a minimum of 50 years old to be considered. I expected to eventually hear from him....and did. THE NEXT DAY.
The next day his legislative aide wrote me a nice letter explaining the status of the bill in question (House Bill #1197) and told me what the history of the bill was, etc etc.
I went to work and mentioned this to a few people, who suggested I send out an email to everyone who might be effected by this bill---including clerks office employees, judicial assistants, state attorneys, public defenders and court administration staff. Employees of the Broward Sheriffs Office get retirement after 25 years because they are considered people who work under "hazardous conditions"---i.e., working with prisoners. Hello!! Every in-court clerk that I know deals with prisoners on a daily basis!! Why aren't we given the same sort of consideration???!!!! Let Ari know that!
Then, when I returned home later that day....I got a personal phone call from Ari thanking me for inquiring about the bill and trying to answer any questions regarding it. He gave me the pro's and con's of the issue...which he, just for the record, IS CO-SPONSOR OF. HELLO!!
I really believe that Ari is a man who can help all of us who are interested in this issue. However, you know what they say.......THE SQUEAKY WHEEL GETS THE GREASE!!!!!!
I'm enclosing a link to Ari's website in the Florida House....which also has a link to his email address within the House. I urge you, if this issue interests you....to contact him, and if nothing else....tell him that you are interested in House Bill # 1197!!!!! I really believe the best way to get some action on this issue is to keep it fresh in the minds of our legislators.
I think Ari will get behind this bill on our behalf if we let him know this is something we all would be interested in.
Ari Porth can be reached by going to this link:
Florida House of Representatives - Ari Abraham Porth
Let him know how you feel about House Bill #1197 and how much you appreciate his support of this bill!!
Now, I'll get off of my soapbox.
Later,
Jeff
PS...if you know anyone else who is effected by this bill, and who you think might be interested, please pass it along to them.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
12/22/05---News from the Midnight front
Well Midnight the Wonder Dog has returned home. We picked him up from the hospital around 3pm, and holy cripes was he ready to go home! He's now sporting a new t-shirt to cover his incision (although later he'll find out, just like every other man, that chicks dig scars). The emergency room nurse that helped us check him out told me that everything went very well during surgery, and that the incision might seem to be a bit larger than we expected but it was done with the intention of getting as much of the cancer as MIGHT be there---so I can totally understand that. So we bring him home, and I keep him in the bedroom with me for the remainder of the afternoon and into the evening until Kim got home...and he's just pretty much taking a snooze (sorta like me).
When Kim got home, he ate his dinner like he hadn't been fed in weeks (good sign) and then did a good job taking the medicine that the doctor had sent home with him (anti-biotic and something for pain--little doggie valium--HELLO!!). So after that I take him out in the backyard for a little early evening constitutional, and I'm getting ready to head to the computer to update everyone.....and he has a freakin seizure! I thought I was going to have heart failure. Its the first one he's had in like a year, but we were worried that maybe it was triggered by the medicine (doubt it though) and what concerned me at first was that when I looked at him his left forearm was twisted underneath him in a very weird angle--and the first thing I thought was that in the midst of his seizure that he could dislocate his forearm and not even realize it. Anyway, Kim called the hospital while I just held on to him, talking him through it (which is pretty much what I do when he has one). 5 minutes later he was fine....its just a scary couple of minutes when it happens.
So, he's going to take it easy for a week or two before his stiches come out, and for the next few days he'll be having those Pink Floyd dreams that doggie valium can give you.
I wonder if he'll dream he's part of that painting of dogs playing cards? Hmmm......
By the way, I just want to say how thankful that I am for the overwhelming show of concern and support during Midnight's medical situation--which of course isn't quite over yet. We will not get the pathologist's report for a week or so. Until then, continue to think a good thought for my boy. Thanks foreveryone who expressed concern or interest in how he was doing....and thanks to my sister for reminding me of who it was that was REALLY monitoring the entire situation during his surgery.
Later,
Jeff
When Kim got home, he ate his dinner like he hadn't been fed in weeks (good sign) and then did a good job taking the medicine that the doctor had sent home with him (anti-biotic and something for pain--little doggie valium--HELLO!!). So after that I take him out in the backyard for a little early evening constitutional, and I'm getting ready to head to the computer to update everyone.....and he has a freakin seizure! I thought I was going to have heart failure. Its the first one he's had in like a year, but we were worried that maybe it was triggered by the medicine (doubt it though) and what concerned me at first was that when I looked at him his left forearm was twisted underneath him in a very weird angle--and the first thing I thought was that in the midst of his seizure that he could dislocate his forearm and not even realize it. Anyway, Kim called the hospital while I just held on to him, talking him through it (which is pretty much what I do when he has one). 5 minutes later he was fine....its just a scary couple of minutes when it happens.
So, he's going to take it easy for a week or two before his stiches come out, and for the next few days he'll be having those Pink Floyd dreams that doggie valium can give you.
I wonder if he'll dream he's part of that painting of dogs playing cards? Hmmm......
By the way, I just want to say how thankful that I am for the overwhelming show of concern and support during Midnight's medical situation--which of course isn't quite over yet. We will not get the pathologist's report for a week or so. Until then, continue to think a good thought for my boy. Thanks foreveryone who expressed concern or interest in how he was doing....and thanks to my sister for reminding me of who it was that was REALLY monitoring the entire situation during his surgery.
Later,
Jeff
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
12/20/05---Tomorrow is my Lil Bubba's big day
Midnight goes in for surgery tomorrow morning to remove the tumor on his stomach.
Please do me a favor and think an extra special good thought for him in the morning.
I've included my very first picture of him ever in my journal.
He's the world's smartest dog!
Later,
Jeff
Please do me a favor and think an extra special good thought for him in the morning.
I've included my very first picture of him ever in my journal.
He's the world's smartest dog!
Later,
Jeff
Saturday, December 17, 2005
12/17/05---Bad news comes in the form of an email
Here's one of those awful ways that you realize you're starting to get older. I got an email this morning from a guy I went to high school with (in the words of George Harrison---"All Those Years Ago") with the sad news that a friend of mine had died.
The news came to me this way:
The news came to me this way:
Barbara Friederich, nee Swierczek, 44, of Germantown, formerly Belleville, Ill, born Sept. 15, 1961, in Belleville, Ill., died Wednesday, Dec. 14, 2005, at Scott Air Force Base Hospital. Barbara was employed as a Chiropractic Assistant for New Baden Chiropractic.
She was preceded in death by her father, Joseph Swierczek, Sr.; and her father-in-law, Vernon Friederich. She is survived by her husband, Nick Friederich, Sr.; her children, Nicholas Friederich Jr., Elizabeth Friederich and Zachary Friederich; her mother, Gloria, nee Klinckhardt, Swierczek of Lake of the Ozarks, Mo.; a sister, Kathleen (Ed) Hock of Belleville, Ill.; three brothers, Joseph (Paula) Swierczek, Jr. of Belleville, Ill., Patrick Swierczek of Kansas City, Mo., and Michael (Annette) Swierczek of Freeburg, Ill.; her mother-in-law, Nonna Friederich of Belleville, Ill.; a brother-in-law, Larry and Barbara Friederich of Collinsville, Ill.; and two sisters-in-law, Diana and Mike Compton of Highland, Ill., and Debbie and Danny Grimmer of Waterloo, Ill. She was a very loving aunt to thirteen nieces and nephews
I met Barb my senior year of high school. She was a total knockout brunette and always quick with a smile. I got to know her through powderpuff football and our senior year club called the "Phantoms". We were the students who would get up at 4am on Friday mornings before the football games and hang up the various banners around school and t.p. the trees around the campus (and can you believe that the school administration not only allowed this--they ENCOURAGED it??). Barb was one of the people out there with me on those cold mornings. She was a lot of fun, and I find myself this morning....feeling just a little bit older than I was the day before.
Later,
Jeff
Monday, December 12, 2005
12/12/05---Becoming my father......slowly
So this past Saturday, we finally had the party that we had promised Andy & Kellie a few months ago. The first time we scheduled it, we had this little storm called Wilma that, um.....postponed it.
So the party in question was held at the kids tae-kwon do school, which the instructors very graciously allowed us to use for the evening. We had the place basically set up into two different rooms--the back room was set up with televisions and videogames--in other words, Andy's friends. It was like a Star Trek convention. The front of the place was where the stereo was located, blasting out the hip hop and rap music. Oh boy, my favorite. Anyway, that's where Kellie's friends, the "alledgedly" cool kids were located. I found out that Kellie has a few friends that could definitely fall into the "hoochie mama" category. For those of you who aren't familar with that term, its sort of like...a girl who's kinda trying to look like she's older, but also like she's, well.....
trashy and older. The first of her friends that showed up looked like she was going down to South Beach to go clubbing, not going to a 13 year olds party. Then she had another friend....a supposed "shy girl" who is in her tae-kwon do class, who apparently is dating another boy from the class (she's the same age as Kellie). Kim and I had even laughed and said that the girl would end up making a perfect wife down the road for Andy, because she seemed so shy and was, according to her mom, just as much of a bookworm and quasi-nerdy as our son. Well...let's just say, after her mom dropped her off....that the butterfly emerged from her cocoon. She and her boyfriend were doing the whole slowdancing routine, the dirty dancing number...and...in my favorite moment of the evening....attempting to work their way out of the back exit to spend a little "quality time" with one another---alone. Uh....no, I don't think so.
Kim & I were sitting out front for the most part, giving the kids (well, let's be honest--giving KELLIE) their space and allowing them to enjoy the time with their friends.
Finally, at one point Kim glanced behind and told me that I needed to look and see what was happening. I went to turn, and was immediately chastized by my wife for being so OBVIOUS.
"No," she said, "you have to do it so she can't see you."
I turned and watched my daughter's first slow dance. I was torn between enjoying this special moment for her....and that whole fatherly thing about wanting to know why that kid was so close to my daughter--hey, let's put a little space between the two of you there mister! After it was over, I called my parents. I told them that I was now paying for all that crap I had put them through when I was a kid. My parents graciously told me that they didn't remember any sort of bad things.
Oh yeah, that's right. I never did tell them about those things. I wonder what I don't know about my daughter?
Later,
Jeff
So the party in question was held at the kids tae-kwon do school, which the instructors very graciously allowed us to use for the evening. We had the place basically set up into two different rooms--the back room was set up with televisions and videogames--in other words, Andy's friends. It was like a Star Trek convention. The front of the place was where the stereo was located, blasting out the hip hop and rap music. Oh boy, my favorite. Anyway, that's where Kellie's friends, the "alledgedly" cool kids were located. I found out that Kellie has a few friends that could definitely fall into the "hoochie mama" category. For those of you who aren't familar with that term, its sort of like...a girl who's kinda trying to look like she's older, but also like she's, well.....
trashy and older. The first of her friends that showed up looked like she was going down to South Beach to go clubbing, not going to a 13 year olds party. Then she had another friend....a supposed "shy girl" who is in her tae-kwon do class, who apparently is dating another boy from the class (she's the same age as Kellie). Kim and I had even laughed and said that the girl would end up making a perfect wife down the road for Andy, because she seemed so shy and was, according to her mom, just as much of a bookworm and quasi-nerdy as our son. Well...let's just say, after her mom dropped her off....that the butterfly emerged from her cocoon. She and her boyfriend were doing the whole slowdancing routine, the dirty dancing number...and...in my favorite moment of the evening....attempting to work their way out of the back exit to spend a little "quality time" with one another---alone. Uh....no, I don't think so.
Kim & I were sitting out front for the most part, giving the kids (well, let's be honest--giving KELLIE) their space and allowing them to enjoy the time with their friends.
Finally, at one point Kim glanced behind and told me that I needed to look and see what was happening. I went to turn, and was immediately chastized by my wife for being so OBVIOUS.
"No," she said, "you have to do it so she can't see you."
I turned and watched my daughter's first slow dance. I was torn between enjoying this special moment for her....and that whole fatherly thing about wanting to know why that kid was so close to my daughter--hey, let's put a little space between the two of you there mister! After it was over, I called my parents. I told them that I was now paying for all that crap I had put them through when I was a kid. My parents graciously told me that they didn't remember any sort of bad things.
Oh yeah, that's right. I never did tell them about those things. I wonder what I don't know about my daughter?
Later,
Jeff
Saturday, December 10, 2005
12/10/05--Thanks for asking.....and my personal nightmare tonite
Well first of all, thanks for everyone is asked about my son...my boy....my dog....my beloved Midnight and his visit to the doctor this past Wednesday. Let's just be polite and say that I was "slightly" nervous about this visit.
Midnight will have surgery on Dec 21st for removal of his tumor. Suffice to say, with the price of the procedure, there will not be many new dog toys under the tree for Midnight this year. UGH! However, here's what the doctor told us...good and bad.
The tumor is located on his stomach, which the doctor indicated is a good thing. There's a lot of excess skin and tissue so the doctor can not only get the tumor, but also the area around the tumor to insure that he basically gets all of the cancerous area.
Kim & I were told that the location of the tumor is good as opposed to a dog getting a tumor on his nose or ear, where there isn't extra skin--hence more of a chance that the doctor will NOT get all of the cancerous tissue. The doctor was somewhat concerned with the size of the tumor, saying that in a best case scenario it would be smaller, but its not abnormally large. He advised us that there are 3 types of cancer. The first stage of the mass cell tumor is that its totally benign---essentially just a growth and not cancerous. Obviously that's what we would wish for, but the doctor admitted that its not very likely. The 2nd stage is the kind where the most unknown exists. Basically you don't know what you're going to get until the tumor is removed and examined by an oncologist. In this case, you could have the cancerous tissue totally removed by the surgery....or, it could be an aggressive case that has to also be treated with a form of canine chemotherapy. If that is the case, the chemo is not the same as the type that humans endure, in that its given to them in a much smaller dose and does not involve them losing hair, etc. Canines might become nauseous and become very tired, but those are the two major side effects. The third stage is the most serious, is the instance where you have a tumor that has appeared from essentially from no where and grown in a month or so into an abnormal size. The doctor indicated that since Midnight has had his tumor for over a year, the stage 3 type does not appear to be the case, much to our relief.
So basically, we won't know anything for sure until after the 21st, but hopefully all will go well. After his surgery, he will have to be seperated from his brother and sister for about two weeks because of the incision and scar that no doubt the other dogs will want to investigate. Thankfully, this timeframe will occur when the Christmas holidays occur and I've already put in for a week off.
But on the 21st, if you remember....think a good thought for my other son.
Now....onto happier things. Tonight.....UGH.....is the kids party. 25 teenagers and me & Kim. Its my personal nightmare. The only good thing, as pointed out by my sister--is that I will have enough stories to fill a week's worth of journal entries. Something for you to look forward too.
Later,
Jeff
Midnight will have surgery on Dec 21st for removal of his tumor. Suffice to say, with the price of the procedure, there will not be many new dog toys under the tree for Midnight this year. UGH! However, here's what the doctor told us...good and bad.
The tumor is located on his stomach, which the doctor indicated is a good thing. There's a lot of excess skin and tissue so the doctor can not only get the tumor, but also the area around the tumor to insure that he basically gets all of the cancerous area.
Kim & I were told that the location of the tumor is good as opposed to a dog getting a tumor on his nose or ear, where there isn't extra skin--hence more of a chance that the doctor will NOT get all of the cancerous tissue. The doctor was somewhat concerned with the size of the tumor, saying that in a best case scenario it would be smaller, but its not abnormally large. He advised us that there are 3 types of cancer. The first stage of the mass cell tumor is that its totally benign---essentially just a growth and not cancerous. Obviously that's what we would wish for, but the doctor admitted that its not very likely. The 2nd stage is the kind where the most unknown exists. Basically you don't know what you're going to get until the tumor is removed and examined by an oncologist. In this case, you could have the cancerous tissue totally removed by the surgery....or, it could be an aggressive case that has to also be treated with a form of canine chemotherapy. If that is the case, the chemo is not the same as the type that humans endure, in that its given to them in a much smaller dose and does not involve them losing hair, etc. Canines might become nauseous and become very tired, but those are the two major side effects. The third stage is the most serious, is the instance where you have a tumor that has appeared from essentially from no where and grown in a month or so into an abnormal size. The doctor indicated that since Midnight has had his tumor for over a year, the stage 3 type does not appear to be the case, much to our relief.
So basically, we won't know anything for sure until after the 21st, but hopefully all will go well. After his surgery, he will have to be seperated from his brother and sister for about two weeks because of the incision and scar that no doubt the other dogs will want to investigate. Thankfully, this timeframe will occur when the Christmas holidays occur and I've already put in for a week off.
But on the 21st, if you remember....think a good thought for my other son.
Now....onto happier things. Tonight.....UGH.....is the kids party. 25 teenagers and me & Kim. Its my personal nightmare. The only good thing, as pointed out by my sister--is that I will have enough stories to fill a week's worth of journal entries. Something for you to look forward too.
Later,
Jeff
Saturday, December 3, 2005
12/3/05--My apologies....hey, can't a guy get sick twice a year???
Well that's the story morning glory. Yeah, maybe I had taking a couple of days off from the blog--maybe get a recharge of the old batteries. So what happens when I'm ready to come back? My wife...God bless her, after about a week of hacking and coughing in my face at night...finally hands her cold//flu off to me, her beloved. I remember waking up around 5am last Friday morning--the day after Thanksgiving--and feeling a little scratchiness in my throat. My first thought?
Aww man!
Now I will tell you one thing about myself. After 44 years on earth (YIKES!), I know my body (and yes, its a temple--don't kid yourself). I can tell at the earliest possible moment when a cold and or flu is invading my body. Now, here's another thing about myself you need to know. I only get a cold or flu about once a year--maybe twice (my last one was in March right before we went to NY). But when I get sick...and my wife will verify this....I am the world's biggest baby. I admit it.
So we we were supposed to go to my co-worker Ceci's surprise birthday party the following day, and by mid-afternoon Saturday, I had to call her sister and bail out. I was just feeling like crap. And like I told someone the next day, you know I felt like shit if I missed something for my baby Ceci. Hell, I call her my 5th wife! So Sunday I'm feeling a little worse...and then Monday, it absolutely hits me like a truck. Well, I have court that morning, and I don't feel like stiffing someone with my work...so I go in, finish court...and go home early. Meanwhile, at home, Kim is suffering from an ear infection. Quite a pair, the two of us. The next day, I had court again, and went in and then vamoosed for home. Wednesday, I woke up and was considering whether death would be preferrable. I felt that horrible. The whole stuffy head, chest cold, body aches. I was quite the hunk of burning love--literally. Thursday was still a bad day, but I went in because I was scheduled for court (Wednesday I was out--part of the reason that I had called in). Friday I woke up covered in sweat. Despite that sounding like a vision from your worst nightmares, I took it as a good thing. I figured I was finally breaking whatever the hell it was that I had. Same thing happened today, and I've felt slightly better both days, so maybe I'm finally coming out of it--and that's good news for you, because Lord knows you've missed me--admit it.
Meanwhile, Kim's one ear gets better...and the infection goes into her other ear. Then she calls me on the way home Friday and says that she's taking Andy to the doctor because HIS ear has been hurting. And at work....Ceci? Remember the girl who's party we had to miss? She goes in for a wisdom tooth extraction and comes out looking like Brando in Godfather 1--complete with the cotton in the side of her mouth.
It has NOT been a good week to either be related or to know me.
And that wasn't the worst of it. The day after Thanksgiving, Kim & I took my dog Midnight to the vet. He's had a small tumor on his stomach for quite some time now, and we had showed the vet before, but were told that some dogs get them and its relatively routine. That's true, because our other dog Beezer has one on his shoulder and its been there for awhile. We brought Midnight in because Kim felt the tumor was starting to get bigger. Maybe I realized it too and just didn't want to think about it.
We had been told that we shouldn't be concerned if the tumor got bigger. The vet looked at Midnight and told us the only way to know was to do a sort of needle biopsy.
She took him in the back and performed the procedure, which she said would feel no different to him than getting a shot. When she came back, she termed it "highly suspicious". That was not what I wanted to hear. She said she wanted to send it off to a pathologist and have it examined.
So besides everything else this past week....I had to sweat that out.
And Kim called them yesterday....because I didn't want too. But our worst fears were realized when we were told that the tumor was indeed cancerous. We meet with a surgeon on Wednesday evening to discuss the next step.
I'm so scared. I'm so scared for one of the most things in my life. Its a family joke by now. I call Midnight "my son". We have two other dogs, Beezer & Jazz...and I love them both very much. They're both great dogs. But Midnight isn't a dog. He's almost like a part of me. I thought about it the other day and came to this somewhat selfish conclusion. I think in my immediate family (meaning the one that lives in Coral Springs),
there are two indespensible parts of it. If anything happened to either of the kids, I'd be devestated...but I'd want to be strong for Kim. If anything ever happened to Beezer or Jazz...I'd be hurt, and I'm sure it would be hard to get over it....but I think I would.
But....Kim I could never replace. Whether she knows it or not....I would be helpless without her (I'm practically helpless WITH her, but that's another story). And then there's Midnight. My buddy....my boy...my black dog...my Mr. Man...my Mr. Shifty.
The worst day of my life was when my boyhood dog, Lady, died. I found her floating in our pool. She was old, maybe 15 or 16....had bad eyesight from cataracs...but the memory of finding her still bothers me. I remember carrying her out to my front yard, looking for anyone to help me.....my parents weren't home. I remembering crying out for help and that it was.....almost primal. It wasn't a cry. It was a wail. It was a cry for the last link to my childhood and my best friend, laying dead in my arms.
And this week, when I thought about worst case scenarios with Midnight....I kept thinking about that day and that moment. And if the worst case scenario happens...if he is taken from me.....this will be worse.
This won't be an old dog who lead a long life finally leaving. This will be a young dog, being taken from me. And I will perceive it, correctly or not, as being done with a malice of forethought. As if it is some personal grudge being taken out on ME.
This one....I may not recover from. This one would be like Kim being taken from me.
This one....I would take with me for the rest of my life.
Wednesday will be a very big day in my life, and in the life of my buddy Midnight.
Please think a good thought for him if you remember.
Later,
Jeff
Aww man!
Now I will tell you one thing about myself. After 44 years on earth (YIKES!), I know my body (and yes, its a temple--don't kid yourself). I can tell at the earliest possible moment when a cold and or flu is invading my body. Now, here's another thing about myself you need to know. I only get a cold or flu about once a year--maybe twice (my last one was in March right before we went to NY). But when I get sick...and my wife will verify this....I am the world's biggest baby. I admit it.
So we we were supposed to go to my co-worker Ceci's surprise birthday party the following day, and by mid-afternoon Saturday, I had to call her sister and bail out. I was just feeling like crap. And like I told someone the next day, you know I felt like shit if I missed something for my baby Ceci. Hell, I call her my 5th wife! So Sunday I'm feeling a little worse...and then Monday, it absolutely hits me like a truck. Well, I have court that morning, and I don't feel like stiffing someone with my work...so I go in, finish court...and go home early. Meanwhile, at home, Kim is suffering from an ear infection. Quite a pair, the two of us. The next day, I had court again, and went in and then vamoosed for home. Wednesday, I woke up and was considering whether death would be preferrable. I felt that horrible. The whole stuffy head, chest cold, body aches. I was quite the hunk of burning love--literally. Thursday was still a bad day, but I went in because I was scheduled for court (Wednesday I was out--part of the reason that I had called in). Friday I woke up covered in sweat. Despite that sounding like a vision from your worst nightmares, I took it as a good thing. I figured I was finally breaking whatever the hell it was that I had. Same thing happened today, and I've felt slightly better both days, so maybe I'm finally coming out of it--and that's good news for you, because Lord knows you've missed me--admit it.
Meanwhile, Kim's one ear gets better...and the infection goes into her other ear. Then she calls me on the way home Friday and says that she's taking Andy to the doctor because HIS ear has been hurting. And at work....Ceci? Remember the girl who's party we had to miss? She goes in for a wisdom tooth extraction and comes out looking like Brando in Godfather 1--complete with the cotton in the side of her mouth.
It has NOT been a good week to either be related or to know me.
And that wasn't the worst of it. The day after Thanksgiving, Kim & I took my dog Midnight to the vet. He's had a small tumor on his stomach for quite some time now, and we had showed the vet before, but were told that some dogs get them and its relatively routine. That's true, because our other dog Beezer has one on his shoulder and its been there for awhile. We brought Midnight in because Kim felt the tumor was starting to get bigger. Maybe I realized it too and just didn't want to think about it.
We had been told that we shouldn't be concerned if the tumor got bigger. The vet looked at Midnight and told us the only way to know was to do a sort of needle biopsy.
She took him in the back and performed the procedure, which she said would feel no different to him than getting a shot. When she came back, she termed it "highly suspicious". That was not what I wanted to hear. She said she wanted to send it off to a pathologist and have it examined.
So besides everything else this past week....I had to sweat that out.
And Kim called them yesterday....because I didn't want too. But our worst fears were realized when we were told that the tumor was indeed cancerous. We meet with a surgeon on Wednesday evening to discuss the next step.
I'm so scared. I'm so scared for one of the most things in my life. Its a family joke by now. I call Midnight "my son". We have two other dogs, Beezer & Jazz...and I love them both very much. They're both great dogs. But Midnight isn't a dog. He's almost like a part of me. I thought about it the other day and came to this somewhat selfish conclusion. I think in my immediate family (meaning the one that lives in Coral Springs),
there are two indespensible parts of it. If anything happened to either of the kids, I'd be devestated...but I'd want to be strong for Kim. If anything ever happened to Beezer or Jazz...I'd be hurt, and I'm sure it would be hard to get over it....but I think I would.
But....Kim I could never replace. Whether she knows it or not....I would be helpless without her (I'm practically helpless WITH her, but that's another story). And then there's Midnight. My buddy....my boy...my black dog...my Mr. Man...my Mr. Shifty.
The worst day of my life was when my boyhood dog, Lady, died. I found her floating in our pool. She was old, maybe 15 or 16....had bad eyesight from cataracs...but the memory of finding her still bothers me. I remember carrying her out to my front yard, looking for anyone to help me.....my parents weren't home. I remembering crying out for help and that it was.....almost primal. It wasn't a cry. It was a wail. It was a cry for the last link to my childhood and my best friend, laying dead in my arms.
And this week, when I thought about worst case scenarios with Midnight....I kept thinking about that day and that moment. And if the worst case scenario happens...if he is taken from me.....this will be worse.
This won't be an old dog who lead a long life finally leaving. This will be a young dog, being taken from me. And I will perceive it, correctly or not, as being done with a malice of forethought. As if it is some personal grudge being taken out on ME.
This one....I may not recover from. This one would be like Kim being taken from me.
This one....I would take with me for the rest of my life.
Wednesday will be a very big day in my life, and in the life of my buddy Midnight.
Please think a good thought for him if you remember.
Later,
Jeff
Sunday, November 20, 2005
11/20/05--Cleaning out the notebook from my previous week
So now that I had returned from my trip....the wife and I, apparently fairly intelligently, had decided to both take Monday off and use it as a "recovery" day. We went out and and took care of some stuff...just sort hung out together...and I made "husband points".
I think.
So the next morning was my first day back to work since my vacation. I had packed my bookbag full of all sort of stuff to bring to work. Souvenirs, various photos from the trip....magazines, books...you name it. So I have that bag all packed the night before, right? And I get up...take a shower, shave, get dressed....and I'm ready to go to work.
I mean...I'm actually looking forward to it (??!!?). I want to tell everyone about my vacation. So I say goodbye to the wife, to the dogs...and start heading for the front door. Except for....
"Um, honey....where are my keys?"
"I dunno. I haven't seen them."
Now let's keep in mind that all the stuff we did as a "couple" the day before were done in HER car. My car had been sitting in the driveway all during the vacation. No problem. As my wife can tell you, this is the type of situation that I thrive in. My ability to stay cool under pressure is one of my best attributes.
(Cough)
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THEM???"
"Don't yell. I don't know where they are. Where did you have them last?"
(By the way...that's my alltime favorite question to hear when you've misplaced something. Like...if I knew where I had the item last, I'd go there.....ya know?)
"I don't know! Oh man...this is not good!"
"Okay, just take the kids to the busstop in my car and I'll look for your keys."
So I drive the kiddies to the busstop and come back home. I'm thinking that my wife, wonderful woman that she is--far better than I deserve--will have found the keys.
"I haven't found them yet."
DOH!
So we begin the process of ransacking the house in search of my keys. Mind you, the ring that their on doesn't hold just my car keys, but my house key, and my work keys.
This loss would not be good. And meanwhile, my composure is outstanding as usual.
"This is unfriggin believeable. Do you know what I'm going to have to do? I'm going to have to call into work and tell my boss that the reason I can't come in is that I lost my freakin car keys!"
Which is what I did next. My boss was sort of incredulous, but agreed with me when I told her that this was such a dumb excuse that it had to be true. Then, after exploring our various options visa vee the car keys, I made the decision to have my wife drop me off at the local Saturn dealership on the way to her work. One of the things that we had considered was calling a locksmith, and the one we called said he didn't do it anymore because...get this....he didn't like the whole business with crawling underneath the dashboard. What a work ethic. So the wife drops me off, and I go to the parts department...and I'm having all these thoughts go through my mind as to how much it would have cost me to get a locksmith. The guy at the dealership does some investigating....searching some facts, checks my vend number.....and makes me a new key.
"Four dollars." the guy says.
Somehow I gotta believe the locksmith might have been more expensive. And I even got the dealership to give me a ride back home. And it wasn't even quite lunchtime.
But still....I stayed home for the rest of the day.
What a work ethic.
Later,
Jeff
I think.
So the next morning was my first day back to work since my vacation. I had packed my bookbag full of all sort of stuff to bring to work. Souvenirs, various photos from the trip....magazines, books...you name it. So I have that bag all packed the night before, right? And I get up...take a shower, shave, get dressed....and I'm ready to go to work.
I mean...I'm actually looking forward to it (??!!?). I want to tell everyone about my vacation. So I say goodbye to the wife, to the dogs...and start heading for the front door. Except for....
"Um, honey....where are my keys?"
"I dunno. I haven't seen them."
Now let's keep in mind that all the stuff we did as a "couple" the day before were done in HER car. My car had been sitting in the driveway all during the vacation. No problem. As my wife can tell you, this is the type of situation that I thrive in. My ability to stay cool under pressure is one of my best attributes.
(Cough)
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THEM???"
"Don't yell. I don't know where they are. Where did you have them last?"
(By the way...that's my alltime favorite question to hear when you've misplaced something. Like...if I knew where I had the item last, I'd go there.....ya know?)
"I don't know! Oh man...this is not good!"
"Okay, just take the kids to the busstop in my car and I'll look for your keys."
So I drive the kiddies to the busstop and come back home. I'm thinking that my wife, wonderful woman that she is--far better than I deserve--will have found the keys.
"I haven't found them yet."
DOH!
So we begin the process of ransacking the house in search of my keys. Mind you, the ring that their on doesn't hold just my car keys, but my house key, and my work keys.
This loss would not be good. And meanwhile, my composure is outstanding as usual.
"This is unfriggin believeable. Do you know what I'm going to have to do? I'm going to have to call into work and tell my boss that the reason I can't come in is that I lost my freakin car keys!"
Which is what I did next. My boss was sort of incredulous, but agreed with me when I told her that this was such a dumb excuse that it had to be true. Then, after exploring our various options visa vee the car keys, I made the decision to have my wife drop me off at the local Saturn dealership on the way to her work. One of the things that we had considered was calling a locksmith, and the one we called said he didn't do it anymore because...get this....he didn't like the whole business with crawling underneath the dashboard. What a work ethic. So the wife drops me off, and I go to the parts department...and I'm having all these thoughts go through my mind as to how much it would have cost me to get a locksmith. The guy at the dealership does some investigating....searching some facts, checks my vend number.....and makes me a new key.
"Four dollars." the guy says.
Somehow I gotta believe the locksmith might have been more expensive. And I even got the dealership to give me a ride back home. And it wasn't even quite lunchtime.
But still....I stayed home for the rest of the day.
What a work ethic.
Later,
Jeff
Saturday, November 19, 2005
11/19/05--Day #5--Homeward Bound
So we spend the gameday evening in South Bend, since apparently the hotels in the area...being total capitalists, have made it REQUIRED that when booking your reservations that you stay TWO nights for homegame weekends. Hmmm......
The next morning we got up and made a quick stop by the ND bookstore, as the kids had decided that they wanted to get the Notre Dame band's DVD that was sold there, and I had a jacket to exchange. We had planned on spending the majority of the day in Chicago, since our flight didn't leave until about 6pm, so we drove back and got a chance to see the countryside from South Bend to Chicago. I have to say, its really quite beautiful. Then you suddenly come upon Gary, Indiana....and the beauty ends.
Gary may be one of the most aestically DISPLEASING cities that you can ever drive through, and half of it might be the fact that the area you were in only 20 miles before is so beautiful. Still, its a dump--bottom line.
Well we got into Chicago a little before noon and I got to live one of my other childhood dreams. We got off the interstate (where, by the way, the wind was practically pushing my rented SUV off of the road--the "Windy City" indeed) and headed for the area surrounding Addison, Sheffield & Waveland. After 34 years as a fan I finally got to see Wrigley Field, home of the Cubs, up close and in person. Its amazing to think that its been sitting there, right in the middle of this residential neighborhood, for the better part of 85 years or so. Walking around the stadium, fighting the breezes allowed me to understand what the announcers have always talked about when they say "the wind is blowing out". Indeed.
Kim had opened up her little travel book and found an interesting place to have lunch, which was called "Potbellies". It was a little sandwich shop that had been there for years...pipes running through the middle of the restaurant, etc...and we had a nice lunch.
Afterwards we walked around just to get a feel for the neighborhood. It just seemed like it would be such a nice place to live. When we visited New York, I came away thinking how much fun NYC was to visit, but that I never would want to live there in a million years. Here I was, in the middle of the northside of Chicago, and I could easily see myself living there. After lunch we drove around the downtown area, and made our way back to the Navy Pier to let the kids do some activites that we had promised them they could do when we were there before. This time when we went in we were pleasantly surprised to find that we had really missed the boat. Inside were all sort of restaurants and shops that we didn't realize were even there when we were walking around outside. Honestly, we felt sort of stupid that we had missed out on all of this.
We were ready to finally head out and begin to make our way towards the airport when Kim spotted an ice cream shop (her biggest weakness). While she was getting a cone, I wandered over to a window of a bar that was showing some of the NFL games that day. I had heard a few of the scores on the radio while we driving, so I was a little surprised to look up on the t.v. screen and see that my Vikings had been tied up by the NY Giants 21-21 and there was only a minute left in the game. Kim came over to me and said that she was ready to go.
Uh, honey....I don't think so.
So we all stood there and watched the Vikings drive down the field and steal the game away from the Giants and win 24-21 on a field goal with about 10 seconds left in the game. Not a bad way to end a vacation.
We got to the airport and discovered....here's a huge shocker, that the winds had caused quite a few flights to have been delayed. Uh, including ours. So while we were standing around, I made my way to the restroom. As I was walking out, I was passed by a rather tall guy who looked very familar. I did sort of doubletake and realized that the man was none other than...
Bill Bradley. Former NY Knick....former NY Senator. Former presidential candidate.
Geez, first Jimmy Carter at a book signing, now Bill Bradley. It was my father's worst nightmare. The place was crawling with Democrats.
We finally got home that night about 1am. I told Kim that if she wanted to just let the kids sleep in and skip school the next day it was okay. I'm sure they would've been exhausted.
The next day around 9am, Andy & Kellie came into our room and asked Kim why she hadn't woke them up. She told them that she knew they were tired and decided to just let them take the day off. They explained to her that they WANTED to go to school and proceeded to go and get dressed and had Kim drive them, getting there around 11am.
Maybe that tour of Notre Dame was a good idea.
Later,
Jeff
The next morning we got up and made a quick stop by the ND bookstore, as the kids had decided that they wanted to get the Notre Dame band's DVD that was sold there, and I had a jacket to exchange. We had planned on spending the majority of the day in Chicago, since our flight didn't leave until about 6pm, so we drove back and got a chance to see the countryside from South Bend to Chicago. I have to say, its really quite beautiful. Then you suddenly come upon Gary, Indiana....and the beauty ends.
Gary may be one of the most aestically DISPLEASING cities that you can ever drive through, and half of it might be the fact that the area you were in only 20 miles before is so beautiful. Still, its a dump--bottom line.
Well we got into Chicago a little before noon and I got to live one of my other childhood dreams. We got off the interstate (where, by the way, the wind was practically pushing my rented SUV off of the road--the "Windy City" indeed) and headed for the area surrounding Addison, Sheffield & Waveland. After 34 years as a fan I finally got to see Wrigley Field, home of the Cubs, up close and in person. Its amazing to think that its been sitting there, right in the middle of this residential neighborhood, for the better part of 85 years or so. Walking around the stadium, fighting the breezes allowed me to understand what the announcers have always talked about when they say "the wind is blowing out". Indeed.
Kim had opened up her little travel book and found an interesting place to have lunch, which was called "Potbellies". It was a little sandwich shop that had been there for years...pipes running through the middle of the restaurant, etc...and we had a nice lunch.
Afterwards we walked around just to get a feel for the neighborhood. It just seemed like it would be such a nice place to live. When we visited New York, I came away thinking how much fun NYC was to visit, but that I never would want to live there in a million years. Here I was, in the middle of the northside of Chicago, and I could easily see myself living there. After lunch we drove around the downtown area, and made our way back to the Navy Pier to let the kids do some activites that we had promised them they could do when we were there before. This time when we went in we were pleasantly surprised to find that we had really missed the boat. Inside were all sort of restaurants and shops that we didn't realize were even there when we were walking around outside. Honestly, we felt sort of stupid that we had missed out on all of this.
We were ready to finally head out and begin to make our way towards the airport when Kim spotted an ice cream shop (her biggest weakness). While she was getting a cone, I wandered over to a window of a bar that was showing some of the NFL games that day. I had heard a few of the scores on the radio while we driving, so I was a little surprised to look up on the t.v. screen and see that my Vikings had been tied up by the NY Giants 21-21 and there was only a minute left in the game. Kim came over to me and said that she was ready to go.
Uh, honey....I don't think so.
So we all stood there and watched the Vikings drive down the field and steal the game away from the Giants and win 24-21 on a field goal with about 10 seconds left in the game. Not a bad way to end a vacation.
We got to the airport and discovered....here's a huge shocker, that the winds had caused quite a few flights to have been delayed. Uh, including ours. So while we were standing around, I made my way to the restroom. As I was walking out, I was passed by a rather tall guy who looked very familar. I did sort of doubletake and realized that the man was none other than...
Bill Bradley. Former NY Knick....former NY Senator. Former presidential candidate.
Geez, first Jimmy Carter at a book signing, now Bill Bradley. It was my father's worst nightmare. The place was crawling with Democrats.
We finally got home that night about 1am. I told Kim that if she wanted to just let the kids sleep in and skip school the next day it was okay. I'm sure they would've been exhausted.
The next day around 9am, Andy & Kellie came into our room and asked Kim why she hadn't woke them up. She told them that she knew they were tired and decided to just let them take the day off. They explained to her that they WANTED to go to school and proceeded to go and get dressed and had Kim drive them, getting there around 11am.
Maybe that tour of Notre Dame was a good idea.
Later,
Jeff
Friday, November 18, 2005
11/18/05--Day #4--Gameday in South Bend
So we had gotten up early again and prepped ourselves for the trip to the stadium.
We ended up in the pay parking (naturally) and were bused over towards the stadium.
Gametime was approximately 1pm, and we arrived a little after 9am. We wandered around the grounds and found a group of students, maybe 10 of them, playing the Irish pipes. I found myself drawn to the sounds of my heritage, and thinking of my father .
Later we went by one of the many BBQ's that had been put up by one of the dorm halls and had a quick bite for lunch. We then watched the players take the ceremonial walk from the church on campus towards the stadium. I got a nice photo of WR Jeff Samardzja leading the squad towards the stadium. The kids had one of the hilites of their weekend as they got to be front and center as the marching band came marching right past them, complete with the colorful Irish Guard. Finally we made our way into the stadium and found our seats.
Row 56.
As in....
"Hi sir, this is row #1....you're in row 56."
UGH.
Anyway, we were seated right behind the goalposts facing "Touchdown Jesus" and really there doesn't appear to be a bad seat in the house. Amazingly, after a weekend in which we hadn't met a single person who had been the slightest bit rude or discourteous
we had two drunks sit down right next to us. Directly in front of them was a priest, and one of the drunks apparently kept spitting on the coat that the priest was wearing, and he was taking none too kindly to it. They ended up getting the boot sometime in the late 3rd quarter. The entire stadium, and they have to sit right next to us.
It was a pretty good game, with the Fighting Irish winning 42-21. Brady Quinn had another big game at QB, and WR Maurice Stovall made a pretty amazing touchdown catch right in front of us. After the game, one of the highlights of the trip was watching the Notre Dame football walking with the Midshipmen to one end of the stadium and standing next to the Navy players as they sang their alma mater with their fellow cadets.
It was a geniunely moving moment and I'm glad my kids got to witness it.
It had been 10 years since my last game at Notre Dame stadium and it was well worth the return trip. I enjoyed this time even more, as I knew the stuff to look for....and quite frankly I enjoyed the company more. There, now I've laid the groundwork for going back next year--as long as my wife reads this entry.
Later,
Jeff
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
11/16/05--Day #3 in the Midwest
So we get up early in the morning and head for the campus. I had told Kim that it was always a good idea to get to the school's bookstore early on a football weekend, because...quite frankly....if you wait until its too late, its like a Wal-Mart on the day after Thanksgiving. Total insanity.
So we got there and it was almost totally empty. It was hilarious. There were like 6 cashiers standing there, waiting for the rush (oh, and don't worry--it eventually arrived)
and the four of us were like the only ones in the store, as I scurried about like some rat looking for cheese--in this case, my cheese was Notre Dame merchandise. So Kim had gone to the ATM and taken out like $400 for spending money to last us over the weekend. That was until I got up to the register. I bought a jacket, about 4 shirts, various books, some various ND-related items.....the cashier rang up the merch and:
$315.
I looked at my ever-so-understanding wife, who's eyes grew large as she saw the total.
"Hey," I said, "Look at the bright side. I only come here once every ten years."
Somehow I don't think that made her feel better.
So after that we went to the administration building...ya know, the "Golden Dome" (which is actually the administration building) and had a brief lecture by the director of admissions for the university. Afterwards, we were lucky enough to be taken around the campus by one of the students, who pointed out various items of interest around the campus. Our goal, and by that I mean Kim & I, was to make an impression on Andy about what sort of work would be required to get into a university like Notre Dame....or the Naval Academy, which he's also considering. I think our objective was reached, as Andy was interested to see that ND offers a course in Astrophysics.
Sometimes the fact that he doesn't have my bloodline becomes glaringly obvious.
We spent a few hours in the afternoon standing in line to get free tickets for the pep rally. What's happened is that, with the terrific year that the Irish have had on the field, interest in the school and the team has gone through the roof (amazing what having a decent coach will do, huh?) and interest in the pep rally has gone up along with it.
The school's gym, where the hold the Friday night events, seats about 12,000 or so, and what the school has started to do is to give out tickets (for free) tothe event. But you have to stand in line to get them. Which means, the line is like 6,000 deep by the time rolls around for the tickets to be handed out. The only interesting thing becomes that you begin to talk to the people that you're standing in line with. We were in front of a family from upstate New York and had a very nice conversation with them, talking about everything from football to the recent hurricanes in south Florida.
After we got our ticket, we decided to do our good deed for the day. Every person gets two tickets, so after Kim & I had been given ours, we had the kids get two apiece and then we walked towards the back of the line and gave away the tickets just to save people a long wait in line. I gave three to a man waiting in line with his two small children. You could tell it really made a positive impression on him. If I keep doing nice things like that, people are going to start thinking I'm some sort of nice guy....so, ya know, I gotta watch myself.
We sort of shadowed the various band members the rest of the day, as the kids were really looking forward to watching them perform. We walked along with them as they headed to the gym for the night's pep rally. The kids really enjoyed the cheerleaders, the dancers, the light show....just everything. I think it made quite an impression on them. I enjoyed listening to head coach speak with admiration for the opponent, Navy.
Charlie Weis said that Navy is not the "usual" football opponent for the Irish. He said that he and the rest of the team realize that by June of next year, the Navy football players could be in a war zone defending our country....and he asked the fans there to see Notre Dame to have the respect for the players of Navy that they deserved. It was very well done and nicely received. The guest speaker for the week was NY Yankee player Tino Martinez, who revealed to the crowd how much the guys in the Yankees clubhouse loved ND football. My man RPM truly would've died had he been there.
Finally, after the pep rally we headed out to the old Cracker Barrel for dinner---of course, that was after we got lost trying to get out of South Bend. I mean, c'mon...its not like we were trying to leave Chicago. How embarrassing.
Later,
Jeff
So we got there and it was almost totally empty. It was hilarious. There were like 6 cashiers standing there, waiting for the rush (oh, and don't worry--it eventually arrived)
and the four of us were like the only ones in the store, as I scurried about like some rat looking for cheese--in this case, my cheese was Notre Dame merchandise. So Kim had gone to the ATM and taken out like $400 for spending money to last us over the weekend. That was until I got up to the register. I bought a jacket, about 4 shirts, various books, some various ND-related items.....the cashier rang up the merch and:
$315.
I looked at my ever-so-understanding wife, who's eyes grew large as she saw the total.
"Hey," I said, "Look at the bright side. I only come here once every ten years."
Somehow I don't think that made her feel better.
So after that we went to the administration building...ya know, the "Golden Dome" (which is actually the administration building) and had a brief lecture by the director of admissions for the university. Afterwards, we were lucky enough to be taken around the campus by one of the students, who pointed out various items of interest around the campus. Our goal, and by that I mean Kim & I, was to make an impression on Andy about what sort of work would be required to get into a university like Notre Dame....or the Naval Academy, which he's also considering. I think our objective was reached, as Andy was interested to see that ND offers a course in Astrophysics.
Sometimes the fact that he doesn't have my bloodline becomes glaringly obvious.
We spent a few hours in the afternoon standing in line to get free tickets for the pep rally. What's happened is that, with the terrific year that the Irish have had on the field, interest in the school and the team has gone through the roof (amazing what having a decent coach will do, huh?) and interest in the pep rally has gone up along with it.
The school's gym, where the hold the Friday night events, seats about 12,000 or so, and what the school has started to do is to give out tickets (for free) tothe event. But you have to stand in line to get them. Which means, the line is like 6,000 deep by the time rolls around for the tickets to be handed out. The only interesting thing becomes that you begin to talk to the people that you're standing in line with. We were in front of a family from upstate New York and had a very nice conversation with them, talking about everything from football to the recent hurricanes in south Florida.
After we got our ticket, we decided to do our good deed for the day. Every person gets two tickets, so after Kim & I had been given ours, we had the kids get two apiece and then we walked towards the back of the line and gave away the tickets just to save people a long wait in line. I gave three to a man waiting in line with his two small children. You could tell it really made a positive impression on him. If I keep doing nice things like that, people are going to start thinking I'm some sort of nice guy....so, ya know, I gotta watch myself.
We sort of shadowed the various band members the rest of the day, as the kids were really looking forward to watching them perform. We walked along with them as they headed to the gym for the night's pep rally. The kids really enjoyed the cheerleaders, the dancers, the light show....just everything. I think it made quite an impression on them. I enjoyed listening to head coach speak with admiration for the opponent, Navy.
Charlie Weis said that Navy is not the "usual" football opponent for the Irish. He said that he and the rest of the team realize that by June of next year, the Navy football players could be in a war zone defending our country....and he asked the fans there to see Notre Dame to have the respect for the players of Navy that they deserved. It was very well done and nicely received. The guest speaker for the week was NY Yankee player Tino Martinez, who revealed to the crowd how much the guys in the Yankees clubhouse loved ND football. My man RPM truly would've died had he been there.
Finally, after the pep rally we headed out to the old Cracker Barrel for dinner---of course, that was after we got lost trying to get out of South Bend. I mean, c'mon...its not like we were trying to leave Chicago. How embarrassing.
Later,
Jeff
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
11/15/05---There's a reason they call it "The Windy City"
The wind. It literally NEVER stops blowing in Chicago. I'm not talking about a day or two here and there where you have high winds. I mean every single day there you face some sort of freakin gale force winds blowing in your face. Its ridiculous. That's what we discovered last Wednesday evening when we flew into Chi-town. We got there about an hour and a half late because our plane in Ft Lauderdale wouldn't take off because of....you got it...the winds in Chicago being so bad that we potentially couldn't land there. Yikes! Then after finally getting there we locate our hotel but couldn't figure out where the parking lot was for the life of us. I'm serious, we must have driven around the hotel 5 times before we figured out the parking lot was...uh, ya know...inside the building itself. Who knew? After getting there and checking in, we decided to go for a lovely stroll through the greater lakefront area in search of some food....despite the fact that it was approaching 11pm eastern time. Kellie kept asking dumb questions, Kim broke one of her toes tripping over something Kellie left on the floor, Andy thought the main tenant in the Sears Tower was a cafe....and me? I fell asleep in the hotel room with gum in my mouth. We weren't off to a good start, although the deep dish pizza at Giordano's in downtown Chi-town was pretty good stuff.
Day #2
So we go down to the breakfast area (free breakfast) and as I'm getting my toast, I can't help but notice that the place is absolutely crawling with incredible hot, yet legally not of age, high school babes. Some further investigation leads to the discovery that there is some sort of high school journalism convention in town. Man oh man....I don't remember the girls at Belleville East High School looking quite that good. I realize that I may turning into an old fart. We start the day with a visit to the 85 (give or take one or two floors) John Hancock Building. Impressive. Chicago has a fantastic skyline.
After that, we take a family stroll down Lakeshore Drive, praying that we wouldn't bump into Oprah. We didn't see her, but as we slipped into a neighborhood Borders bookstore, we had the first of our "near celebrity encounters" that would become the staple of our weekend. We walk inside and notice a huge line. Lo & behold, former president (as in--"of the United States") Jimmy Carter is there signing his new book. I thought it would be a pretty cool photo op, but....the secret service and the folks from Borders wanted you to pony up the $30 for his new book. Uh....no thanks. So then we head down to the Navy Pier, which is sort of a new tourist attraction in the downtown area. We ended up having lunch at Cheezborger, Cheezborger which is supposed to be the place where John Belushi got the idea for the Greek restaurant skit on Saturday Night Live ("No Coke...Pepsi! Cheezborger, Cheezborger...chip, chip!").
It was okay...nothing special and some really seedy looking types working there. So then we go on the afternoon architechural cruise, which pretty much every one who knew I was going to Chicago had recommended to me. It was pretty damn cool.
I mean literally. The temperature started falling as the afternoon got late and we all about froze our asses off riding around the Chicago River. Nice tour though. After that we headed towards the growing metropolis of....Elkhart, Indiana. Its the closest we could get a hotel to Notre Dame, ya know? It was pretty amazing staying at a hotel that obviously knows where its bread is buttered. We walked into the lobby and our greeted by a huge Notre Dame banner and a welcome sign for fans coming into town.
So we decide to go out for some dinner and the girl behind the counter (and when I say she was a "local"....OMAN....do I mean LOCAL), tells us to get on the road the hotel is on (Hwy 19) and just keep going for about 7 miles and we'll run into a bunch of restaurants. Really. Of course, she didn't bother to mention the fact that the road splits into two on two seperate occasions and good old Hwy 19 goes in a completely different direction! So at some point I notice that the road we're on has become two lanes and we appear to be in a residential neighborhood. We pull a U-turn and decide to swing into a 7-11 for some directions. I was wearing a Notre Dame sweatshirt and had the following fascinating conversation.
"Hwy 19?" she says, thinking to herself..."oh yeah, that's like 3 traffic lights that way.
Road veers right. Hey, you think Notre Dame is going to win on Saturday?"
"Well, they should." I remarked. "Their probably a better team."
"You know who I love? That wide receiver....Jeff Samardzja. Last Saturday when I was working here he caught that pass and started running for a touchdown and I jumped up in down and started screaming...'SAMARDZJA!! SAMARDZJA!! Everyone in the store started looking at me."
I can honestly say that no one in a south Florida 7-11 has ever had a conversation like that with me.
We were staying in a Holiday Inn Express, and it must have been either very new or very poorly supplied. Kim asked for extra pillows---we got one. She asked for some extra towels. We got one big one, one small one. There's a huge sign in the bathrooms telling you (I swear to God).....to REUSE the towels.
I love traveling with the family to see a football game.
Later,
Jeff
Tuesday, November 8, 2005
11/8/05---Vacation? Did someone say....VACATION?
Ya know, after you've just returned from a 2 week unscheduled holiday because of a freakin hurricane, there's no better way to get yourself back into the old work groove than too....well, ya know....take a vacation! Man, how sweet is that?
Tomorrow afternoon, the lovely Mrs and I will be joined by the chillin's as we head north to Chee-cago for the weekend, during which we will travel an hour or so to the east and stop in .....(dramatic pause please)......
SOUTH BEND, INDIANA
Yes, for those of us with a "slight" Notre Dame fetish, its a Holy place. Mecca, if you will (if you can truly call a Catholic university "Mecca" and be politically correct). No doubt upon my return there will be....(cough, cough)....stories from the road. My wife and kids are already living in dread of me writing down every remotely amusing antecdote from the road. And even worse....my wife is preparing herself for the animal that will emerge from within....as I watch a Notre Dame game live....and in person. She already told me....
"Just try not to curse too bad."
I'll do my best....and report the rest.
Until I return.
Later,
Jeff
Tomorrow afternoon, the lovely Mrs and I will be joined by the chillin's as we head north to Chee-cago for the weekend, during which we will travel an hour or so to the east and stop in .....(dramatic pause please)......
SOUTH BEND, INDIANA
Yes, for those of us with a "slight" Notre Dame fetish, its a Holy place. Mecca, if you will (if you can truly call a Catholic university "Mecca" and be politically correct). No doubt upon my return there will be....(cough, cough)....stories from the road. My wife and kids are already living in dread of me writing down every remotely amusing antecdote from the road. And even worse....my wife is preparing herself for the animal that will emerge from within....as I watch a Notre Dame game live....and in person. She already told me....
"Just try not to curse too bad."
I'll do my best....and report the rest.
Until I return.
Later,
Jeff
Saturday, November 5, 2005
11/5/05---Big Game America
It had that special feeling. After 6 years of coming to games at my kids school more or less because I felt "obligated", I found myself really wanting to go to one of their games last evening. The kids school, Ft Lauderdale American Heritage, was playing host to Hollywood Chaminade. Make that, BIG BAD Chaminade. A team that was so highly thought of coming into this season that they played a game in TEXAS.
Teams don't travel out of state unless they're loading up a heck of a football team.
So I drove with my wife to the game as the Heritage Patriots, holders of an 8-0 record and ranked #2 in the state (that's right, #2!) faced off with the Chaminade Lions, who were ranked #3 in the state for the district title. Both teams had already qualified for the state playoffs, so this one was all about winning district and getting some respect. My wife, apparently quite correctly, had wanted to get to the game early so that we could watch our kids play in the band before the game started.
That's not quite as emotional as having your kid be the starting QB, but what can I say? I knew something was amiss when I went to turn into the parking lot where I've parked my car for every other game. Closed.
"Why in the heck would they close the lot tonight?" I asked the wife.
"I don't think its closed," she answered, "I think its full."
"Full? The game doesn't start for another 45 minutes."
So we parked across the street and made our way into the stadium, dutifully paying our $5 admission fee and looking for the best seat available. We made our way to the top of the grandstands, around the 25 yard line (I'm used to sitting at about the 40--I hate having my routine interrupted). We're watching the warmups, and the first thing that strikes me is that the Lions have some absolute monsters. There have been "whispers", and only "whispers" mind you, that the coach for the Lions "recruits" players to come play for his school (both Heritage and Chaminade being private schools of course). If he doesn't recruit, it sure looks like he does, because some of the kids look like they should be in junior college at the very least.
The crowd begins to pour into the stadium. I use the word "stadium" in the broadest sense of the word, because it seats maybe 1500 people. Usually. Tonight though, its going to be different. There's a line to get into the stadium. A very long line.
The game begins and the Lions roll down the field like Sherman heading for Atlanta and score on a very nice touchdown pass. Its encouraging when directly after the Patriots go down the field themselves and tie the game up on a touchdown run.
7-7.
There is still a line of people waiting to get into the stadium. Its unbelieveable. I notice that on one of the buildings next to stadium someone is sitting in a lawn chair.
The stadium seats are full. People are lining the field, trying to get a glimpse of the game. This has never happened at Heritage. This only happens....in big games.
The 2nd quarter sees the Lions begin another long drive that culminates with another Lions touchdown. The Patriots drive the field, but are stopped on 4th down and turn the ball over to the Lions. I warn the wife that Heritage does not want to get down by 2 touchdowns to Chaminade. The Lions head down the field but are ultimately kept off the scoreboard by the Heritage defense.
14-7 Chaminade, at the half.
Its homecoming game at Heritage and the various candidate walk onto the field.
I tell my wife that there might be one sure bet that evening. Back from the lockerroom comes Heritage fullback Andy Hartman. Andy is the senior fullback for the football team and has played the entire season with a heavy heart. The week before school starts his mother is killed in a car accident. A 17 year old loses his mother the week before his final year of high school. I told my wife that if Andy Hartman was one of the finalists for Homecoming king, there is no way he does not win. Its a sure bet. The crowd wants it to happen. They want to cheer the kid, to let him know their with him. The moment arrives.
"Your choice," the stadium announcer says over the loudspeaker, "for 2005 Homecoming King is.....Andy Hartman!"
The crowd errupts. The crown is placed upon his head. He is the King, if for tonight only. We look at the sea of humanity surrounding the stadium. My wife and I figure that there might be 3,000 people there, watching Big Game America. Here at little old American Heritage. It has arrived.
The 3rd quarter gets underway. The game, which I initially thought was going to be a high scoring shootout, with perhaps the team having the ball last wins ends up turning into a defensive slugfest. The Patriots, the smaller and perhaps less talented team, is standing toe to toe with Chaminade.
14-7, end of the 3rd quarter.
The 4th quarter begins. The game, which started with a lot of trashtalking and borderline cheapshots, has evolved into a hardhitting, cleanly played game. Chaminade has brought a large contingent of fans, the most of any opposing team so far this season. Its good stuff. The game continues to ebb and flow. Chaminade has the ball and is marching down the field. I tell my wife that time is becoming a factor. Heritage's coach is conservative in his approach. Wait, make that VERY conservative. Heritage has the type of offense that does not pass the ball very often.
They're going to need time when (or IF) they get the ball back. There's around 3 minutes left and its 4th and 3. This might be the ball game. A sweep to the right side of the field and Chaminade converts for a first down.
"That's it," I say to my wife. "Their done."
"Not so fast," a guy in front of me says, "there's still time."
"There is no way that with an offense like Heritage has their driving the field in 2 minutes. They needed to get the ball back right then."
The defense for Heritage then rises up. Three straight tackles for a loss and an incomplete pass on 4th down give Heritage the ball back on their own 25 yard line.
The Patriots start with a reverse that goes for almost 20 yards. Just under 2 minutes.
The QB drops back and completes his 2nd pass. Of the entire game. This one goes for 30 yards and now Heritage is inside the 20. I turn to my wife:
"NOW they can run the ball."
A couple of running plays and the ball is down to the 5 yard line. A motion penalty pushes them back to the 10 yard line. About a minute and 10 seconds remain.
Timeout.
"Ya know," I say to my wife, "this is some good stuff. If they score, they have to go for two points."
"You don't kick the extra point?" a guy in front of me asks."
"Not me. This is their home field. You play for the win. If the game was at Chaminade I'd go for the tie. At home, you play to win."
My wife points down the bleachers. A woman is knitting in the stands. This is a big game....for almost everyone. Knitting? I told my wife that I might have had to kill her if she ever did something like that at a football game. She joins me in shaking our heads in disgust at the woman. I have a good wife.
Now with only a minute and 10 seconds left the conservative coach for Heritage makes a bold call. Chaminade comes in an all out blitz and the screen pass left is wide open. Wide open for Andy Hartman, the homecoming king.
The Heritage coach makes another bold call. He decides to go for the win.
My wife asks me what play they should run.
"You give the ball to the homecoming king like you have all season and you let him win the game for you. Its the only call he can make."
One minute left. 14-13. Heritage is going for two points and the district title.
The ball is snapped.
Its handed to Andy Hartman. The Homecoming King.
He dives. He's hit and keeps driving. He hits the ground.
One yard short.
The Chaminade players and fans errupt. An onside kick fails, the clock is run out and the Lions celebrate the win and the district title. 3,000 fans all stand and applaud both teams.
It was the type of a play and a moment that young men dream about. Who hasn't been in their backyard and wondered about such a moment? A minute left in the game, the ball is given to you, your hit...and you keep going and score the winning touchdown. No one ever dreams about getting stopped a yard short. Not when your the Homecoming King. Not when you've played the whole season after losing your mother a week before it started. But I'll bet that in his backyard, Andy Hartman scored that touchdown. And in that backyard, where his only opponent is his imagination, while he's holding that ball above his head, he hears his mother cheering for him.
Later,
Jeff
Teams don't travel out of state unless they're loading up a heck of a football team.
So I drove with my wife to the game as the Heritage Patriots, holders of an 8-0 record and ranked #2 in the state (that's right, #2!) faced off with the Chaminade Lions, who were ranked #3 in the state for the district title. Both teams had already qualified for the state playoffs, so this one was all about winning district and getting some respect. My wife, apparently quite correctly, had wanted to get to the game early so that we could watch our kids play in the band before the game started.
That's not quite as emotional as having your kid be the starting QB, but what can I say? I knew something was amiss when I went to turn into the parking lot where I've parked my car for every other game. Closed.
"Why in the heck would they close the lot tonight?" I asked the wife.
"I don't think its closed," she answered, "I think its full."
"Full? The game doesn't start for another 45 minutes."
So we parked across the street and made our way into the stadium, dutifully paying our $5 admission fee and looking for the best seat available. We made our way to the top of the grandstands, around the 25 yard line (I'm used to sitting at about the 40--I hate having my routine interrupted). We're watching the warmups, and the first thing that strikes me is that the Lions have some absolute monsters. There have been "whispers", and only "whispers" mind you, that the coach for the Lions "recruits" players to come play for his school (both Heritage and Chaminade being private schools of course). If he doesn't recruit, it sure looks like he does, because some of the kids look like they should be in junior college at the very least.
The crowd begins to pour into the stadium. I use the word "stadium" in the broadest sense of the word, because it seats maybe 1500 people. Usually. Tonight though, its going to be different. There's a line to get into the stadium. A very long line.
The game begins and the Lions roll down the field like Sherman heading for Atlanta and score on a very nice touchdown pass. Its encouraging when directly after the Patriots go down the field themselves and tie the game up on a touchdown run.
7-7.
There is still a line of people waiting to get into the stadium. Its unbelieveable. I notice that on one of the buildings next to stadium someone is sitting in a lawn chair.
The stadium seats are full. People are lining the field, trying to get a glimpse of the game. This has never happened at Heritage. This only happens....in big games.
The 2nd quarter sees the Lions begin another long drive that culminates with another Lions touchdown. The Patriots drive the field, but are stopped on 4th down and turn the ball over to the Lions. I warn the wife that Heritage does not want to get down by 2 touchdowns to Chaminade. The Lions head down the field but are ultimately kept off the scoreboard by the Heritage defense.
14-7 Chaminade, at the half.
Its homecoming game at Heritage and the various candidate walk onto the field.
I tell my wife that there might be one sure bet that evening. Back from the lockerroom comes Heritage fullback Andy Hartman. Andy is the senior fullback for the football team and has played the entire season with a heavy heart. The week before school starts his mother is killed in a car accident. A 17 year old loses his mother the week before his final year of high school. I told my wife that if Andy Hartman was one of the finalists for Homecoming king, there is no way he does not win. Its a sure bet. The crowd wants it to happen. They want to cheer the kid, to let him know their with him. The moment arrives.
"Your choice," the stadium announcer says over the loudspeaker, "for 2005 Homecoming King is.....Andy Hartman!"
The crowd errupts. The crown is placed upon his head. He is the King, if for tonight only. We look at the sea of humanity surrounding the stadium. My wife and I figure that there might be 3,000 people there, watching Big Game America. Here at little old American Heritage. It has arrived.
The 3rd quarter gets underway. The game, which I initially thought was going to be a high scoring shootout, with perhaps the team having the ball last wins ends up turning into a defensive slugfest. The Patriots, the smaller and perhaps less talented team, is standing toe to toe with Chaminade.
14-7, end of the 3rd quarter.
The 4th quarter begins. The game, which started with a lot of trashtalking and borderline cheapshots, has evolved into a hardhitting, cleanly played game. Chaminade has brought a large contingent of fans, the most of any opposing team so far this season. Its good stuff. The game continues to ebb and flow. Chaminade has the ball and is marching down the field. I tell my wife that time is becoming a factor. Heritage's coach is conservative in his approach. Wait, make that VERY conservative. Heritage has the type of offense that does not pass the ball very often.
They're going to need time when (or IF) they get the ball back. There's around 3 minutes left and its 4th and 3. This might be the ball game. A sweep to the right side of the field and Chaminade converts for a first down.
"That's it," I say to my wife. "Their done."
"Not so fast," a guy in front of me says, "there's still time."
"There is no way that with an offense like Heritage has their driving the field in 2 minutes. They needed to get the ball back right then."
The defense for Heritage then rises up. Three straight tackles for a loss and an incomplete pass on 4th down give Heritage the ball back on their own 25 yard line.
The Patriots start with a reverse that goes for almost 20 yards. Just under 2 minutes.
The QB drops back and completes his 2nd pass. Of the entire game. This one goes for 30 yards and now Heritage is inside the 20. I turn to my wife:
"NOW they can run the ball."
A couple of running plays and the ball is down to the 5 yard line. A motion penalty pushes them back to the 10 yard line. About a minute and 10 seconds remain.
Timeout.
"Ya know," I say to my wife, "this is some good stuff. If they score, they have to go for two points."
"You don't kick the extra point?" a guy in front of me asks."
"Not me. This is their home field. You play for the win. If the game was at Chaminade I'd go for the tie. At home, you play to win."
My wife points down the bleachers. A woman is knitting in the stands. This is a big game....for almost everyone. Knitting? I told my wife that I might have had to kill her if she ever did something like that at a football game. She joins me in shaking our heads in disgust at the woman. I have a good wife.
Now with only a minute and 10 seconds left the conservative coach for Heritage makes a bold call. Chaminade comes in an all out blitz and the screen pass left is wide open. Wide open for Andy Hartman, the homecoming king.
The Heritage coach makes another bold call. He decides to go for the win.
My wife asks me what play they should run.
"You give the ball to the homecoming king like you have all season and you let him win the game for you. Its the only call he can make."
One minute left. 14-13. Heritage is going for two points and the district title.
The ball is snapped.
Its handed to Andy Hartman. The Homecoming King.
He dives. He's hit and keeps driving. He hits the ground.
One yard short.
The Chaminade players and fans errupt. An onside kick fails, the clock is run out and the Lions celebrate the win and the district title. 3,000 fans all stand and applaud both teams.
It was the type of a play and a moment that young men dream about. Who hasn't been in their backyard and wondered about such a moment? A minute left in the game, the ball is given to you, your hit...and you keep going and score the winning touchdown. No one ever dreams about getting stopped a yard short. Not when your the Homecoming King. Not when you've played the whole season after losing your mother a week before it started. But I'll bet that in his backyard, Andy Hartman scored that touchdown. And in that backyard, where his only opponent is his imagination, while he's holding that ball above his head, he hears his mother cheering for him.
Later,
Jeff
Wednesday, November 2, 2005
11/2/05---New movie review....no, really!!
Its a funny thing when you end a relationship (oh quit panicking, I'm NOT getting divorce again)....a lot of how you'll view the relationship after you've had some time to reflect back on it will be determined whether you were the...ahem...."dumper", or the "dumpee". Trust me, I'm on my 3rd marriage....I know this material by heart.
Character actor Jon Favreau wrote & helped produce "Swingers", 1996 film that focuses primarily on one man's attempt to get over a broken romance and the friend (Vince Vaughn) that helps him attempt to do it. There's only one other "name" actress in the film, and truthfully, she doesn't come onscreen until about 3/4 of the way through the film....although her part and performance are vital. I'll get to her in a minute though. Favreau is the main lead in this film, and he's got one of those familar faces that makes you scream "oh, yeah...I know that guy" from some of his other films (he played Sean Astin's best friend in "Rudy"). Here he plays Mike, a struggling comedian in Los Angeles who can't seem to catch a break either personally or professionally. Its his personal life that really has Mike a mess though, as he's still in "recovery" from a "6 year relationship" that ended almost six months before. When I say he's in recovery....its only in the broadest sense of the word.
Mike checks his phone messages on a daily basis, hoping that his ex has called and left a message. Every single day he checks. What he really needs is a wild night on the town...say, maybe in Las Vegas. That's what his best friend Trent suggests and they proceed to make the drive from L.A. to Vegas. Trent isn't just a best friend.
He's a force of nature in this film, and I have to tell you--Vaughn has star written all over him here. Its really a starmaking performance, and its easy to see why he began to get bigger roles afterwards.
Favreau's character is really pathetic here. There's a tremendous sad and hilarious scene midway through the film where he calls back a girl who's given him her phone number in a bar. The emotional moodswing that he goes through over the course of about 45 seconds is amazing to watch....a man so conflicted, and yet so seemingly safe in that conflict that he doesn't know what to do anymore. There's a point in the film (probably right after that scene) where you wonder how this guy is ever going to get out of the rut that he's in...and whether the film will ever pay off his emergence from it. Well, he does, and the scene where he does is such a good payoff that it makes the film worth sitting through. A friend of mine has a motto when it comes to relationships---"never go backwards". The great thing is....this film never does.
Quite a good little film. ****
Later,
Jeff
Character actor Jon Favreau wrote & helped produce "Swingers", 1996 film that focuses primarily on one man's attempt to get over a broken romance and the friend (Vince Vaughn) that helps him attempt to do it. There's only one other "name" actress in the film, and truthfully, she doesn't come onscreen until about 3/4 of the way through the film....although her part and performance are vital. I'll get to her in a minute though. Favreau is the main lead in this film, and he's got one of those familar faces that makes you scream "oh, yeah...I know that guy" from some of his other films (he played Sean Astin's best friend in "Rudy"). Here he plays Mike, a struggling comedian in Los Angeles who can't seem to catch a break either personally or professionally. Its his personal life that really has Mike a mess though, as he's still in "recovery" from a "6 year relationship" that ended almost six months before. When I say he's in recovery....its only in the broadest sense of the word.
Mike checks his phone messages on a daily basis, hoping that his ex has called and left a message. Every single day he checks. What he really needs is a wild night on the town...say, maybe in Las Vegas. That's what his best friend Trent suggests and they proceed to make the drive from L.A. to Vegas. Trent isn't just a best friend.
He's a force of nature in this film, and I have to tell you--Vaughn has star written all over him here. Its really a starmaking performance, and its easy to see why he began to get bigger roles afterwards.
Favreau's character is really pathetic here. There's a tremendous sad and hilarious scene midway through the film where he calls back a girl who's given him her phone number in a bar. The emotional moodswing that he goes through over the course of about 45 seconds is amazing to watch....a man so conflicted, and yet so seemingly safe in that conflict that he doesn't know what to do anymore. There's a point in the film (probably right after that scene) where you wonder how this guy is ever going to get out of the rut that he's in...and whether the film will ever pay off his emergence from it. Well, he does, and the scene where he does is such a good payoff that it makes the film worth sitting through. A friend of mine has a motto when it comes to relationships---"never go backwards". The great thing is....this film never does.
Quite a good little film. ****
Later,
Jeff
Sunday, October 30, 2005
10/30/05---Normalcy beginning to return
Life here in south Florida is beginning to return to norm. The lines for gasoline are now maybe 15 minutes tops, 50% of Broward County has electricity.....including of course, your beloved writer. Yesterday the ultimate state of normal returned when my neighbor Jimmy helped me to realign my DirectTv satellite dish to its proper configuration and I was able to watch a Saturday worth of college football. All hail satellite t.v.! Cable t.v. sucks!
Kim and I went and got gasoline today (its good to know that manager of a Mobil station--gets you right to the front of any line) and afterwards did a little bit of driving around. Its really amazing how many trees are down. A lot of the powerlines that still haven't been fixed are down because a tree fell on top of them. However, I must say that we did see crews out working on the problems, so its not like you can say anyone is taking a Sunday off or anything. Well, unless you work at the courthouse! No word yet on our return, although scuttlebutt is that the first official day of work at the building will be on Monday the 7th. Personally, I think they'll call the employees in on Friday the 4th, just to get our work prepared for what I'm sure is going to be a complete nightmare of a day on the 7th. I'm just waiting for every mutant in the county who might have had a court date the last two weeks to come wondering into the courtroom wanting their case resolved right then and there. UGH!
My beloved Irish had the weekend off, but that didn't stop them from being the lead story on most college football sites. Not bad for an "irrelevant" program.
ND's top teacher granted 10 year-deal - Chicago Sun Times
Thanks to the BareDown blog for the link and their thoughts on the matter. Personally, I'm happier than a pig in a poke over the new deal. Its obvious that Charlie gets it...that he's the man for the job, and because of that, the NFL is going to eventually be sniffing around (including my Vikings, who should stay the hell away in this particular instance) the administration grab the bull by the horns and addressed the problem before it reached the critical point.
I feel pretty happy knowing that Charlie will be steering the ship for 10 years.
Later,
Jeff
Kim and I went and got gasoline today (its good to know that manager of a Mobil station--gets you right to the front of any line) and afterwards did a little bit of driving around. Its really amazing how many trees are down. A lot of the powerlines that still haven't been fixed are down because a tree fell on top of them. However, I must say that we did see crews out working on the problems, so its not like you can say anyone is taking a Sunday off or anything. Well, unless you work at the courthouse! No word yet on our return, although scuttlebutt is that the first official day of work at the building will be on Monday the 7th. Personally, I think they'll call the employees in on Friday the 4th, just to get our work prepared for what I'm sure is going to be a complete nightmare of a day on the 7th. I'm just waiting for every mutant in the county who might have had a court date the last two weeks to come wondering into the courtroom wanting their case resolved right then and there. UGH!
My beloved Irish had the weekend off, but that didn't stop them from being the lead story on most college football sites. Not bad for an "irrelevant" program.
ND's top teacher granted 10 year-deal - Chicago Sun Times
Out in the Pacific time zone, Willingham might be asking why Weis was showered with love after a 5-2 start when he began 8-0 in his debut season in 2002. But if Willingham's ouster was unfair in the way it was handled, it's clear he is far inferior to Weis in most coaching facets. Ty wasn't real good with game plans and preparing his team. Weis is a master in both categories and never will let the Irish slump to a level in which they're not only losing often, but being routed -- the state of the program when Willingham was fired. This isn't about race. This is about nothing but quality of coaching.I quoted that portion of his column because it's the first time Mariotti has acknowledged that Weis is superior to Willingham in 'most coaching facets' (even though he really knows it's all facets).
Thanks to the BareDown blog for the link and their thoughts on the matter. Personally, I'm happier than a pig in a poke over the new deal. Its obvious that Charlie gets it...that he's the man for the job, and because of that, the NFL is going to eventually be sniffing around (including my Vikings, who should stay the hell away in this particular instance) the administration grab the bull by the horns and addressed the problem before it reached the critical point.
I feel pretty happy knowing that Charlie will be steering the ship for 10 years.
Later,
Jeff
Thursday, October 27, 2005
10/27/05--WILLLLLLLLLLLLLMA!!!!!!!!
We sat around and watched that bitch for over a week, skulking around the lower Caribbean. Oh, they kept telling us that eventually she'd head our way, but we really didn't pay much attention. I mean, afterall, who'd ever heard of a hurricane hitting this late in the season? And even if they did, hurricanes NEVER, EVER hit Broward County and Ft Lauderdale. They might hammer Miami-Dade, or sneak up the coast and create a nuisance to Palm Beach, but somehow, someway, Ft Lauderdale always managed to avoid getting hit. It was really amazing.
And so, we watched and kept listening to those guys from the Weather Channel tell us that we were sitting there, like a huge target, and that it was inevitable that Wilma was heading our way. But there was this massive cold front, and we were positive that it would come down in time to send it south of Lauderdale, and once again we would mark smart ass remarks about how those guys from the Weather Channel were wrong--again. And then we heard about how Wilma was sitting on top of Cancun and the Yucatan, hammering them relentlessly with high winds and heavy dosages of rain. But it wasn't going to happen to us. Nope, OTHER people get hit, not us.
And last Friday, we prepped our office, as we've done seemingly hundreds of times in preparation for yet another hurricane that wouldn't really hit us. We covered the desks and computers in plastic wrap, laughing to ourselves at how ineffective it would be if a hurricane ever did hit Lauderdale. And we went home.
And on Sunday I took my wife to the bookstore, so she had something to read if she got bored during preparation of our home. And I drove right past the gas station even while I noticed that my wife was sitting at around 1/2 to 3/4 a tank of gas. Didn't matter...the hurricane wouldn't hit us, so who cares if our tank isn't full?
And my wife told me, as we were putting up our shutters, to leave one shutter off of our sliding glass doors so that she could "watch the storm" when it came through.
And my wife went to bed, as the talking heads on television told us that Wilma was coming. But I kept thinking that, like always, something would happen at the last minute and Wilma would turn north....even maybe up to the Palm Beach, and we would maybe get a glancing blow. And I went to bed, wondering if I had made the right choice in leaving that sliding door without that last shutter. And as I got in bed, I heard the wind begin to pick up outside.
I awoke the next morning and the first thing I noticed was that the fan above our bed was still turning. Power still on. I asked my wife what time it was, and she told me that it was about 7:45am and that the storm was hitting Broward County dead on.
We still couldn't believe it...this just didn't happen. I fell back asleep for about another 15 minutes until my wife came back into the room and told me that she was starting to get freaked out by the noise outside and wanted me to come into the living room. A few minutes later we heard on the radio that the eye of the storm, which was large enough to literally cover the entire county, was now passing over the area.
So we did what any idiot would do in that situation. We went outside (Hey, I never said we were the brightest bulbs in the box). The two trees in our front yard were down. We walked outside in front of the house and saw a few other neighbors who were out surveying the damage. We stayed out there about 5 minutes, or until I began to notice a very subtle increase in the wind. Time to go in, I told my wife.
We were inside about 5 minutes when the power finally went out. Through the space in the shutters we could see the wind pick up dramatically and watched our tree in the backyard struggle to not go down. Kim finally went and laid down on the couch, and I stood next to the sliding door. A few minutes later one of those notorious feeder bands came through. I stood at the door watching the wind whip through my neighborhood worse than I had ever seen before. I could hear the wind.
I watched as my sliding door seemingly began to breathe, as it absorbed the hit from the wind and began to bend with it. This was not a fun time. I heard my front door begin to shake on its hinges, and thought about how the guys at Home Depot had sold us a new door a few months before but had yet to put it on for us. Why? Because, although it met "code"....meaning city or county code, but not "hurricane code", they couldn't install it for us. So there we were, with last year's doors, the ones that we knew hadn't done a good job for us last year in a lesser storm, hoping that they would hold together one last time until we could get the new doors, the ones that did meet "code", put in.
About an hour later, it was all over. The storm I mean. The damn thing was moving at about 25 miles per hour, and literally blew right through Broward County. I told my wife how lucky we were that we weren't like the Yucatan, where the storm sat for almost 36 hours before it finally decided to keep on moving.
The only word that captures what happened is devestating. I mean, just hammered.
The trees are all gone. It looks like the good lord himself came down with a scythe or a machete and just chopped off the tops of the trees. So the rest of the day was spent doing an extraordinary thing. Everyone in the neighborhood came together to help. I had a chainsaw, my neighbor Sal had a generator with plenty of gas, and we helped get fallen trees out of people's driveways. A couple of doors down from us was an older lady who was in the house with her special needs daughter. Her husband was still in the hospital recovering from hip surgery. I had been told that her husband had been part of the Big Red One, which was one of the first divisions to land in Normandy & Omaha Beach during D-Day, WWII. After we cut down her tree, she thanked us. I told her that compared to the sacrifices her husband had made more than 50 years before, cutting down a tree didn't seem like too much to do. Luck was with us that evening, as the cold front finally arrived and sent the temperatures down into the low 60's and made the weather very comfortable for sleeping. The following morning we got up and decided that we would go in search of some gasoline. It was like a scene from the Road Warrior.
"The juice....the PRECIOUS juice....was hidden in the back of the bus......"
Seriously, it was that bad. We decided that even without power or electricity, the turnpike would have gasoline at the service plaza. It was a good idea, which unfortunately about 5,000 other people had at the same time we did....judging by the line that we ran into on the turnpike. We finally got off at Lake Worth, hoping that maybe gas station around there might be selling fuel. Uh....no. We did get to see a few stores that had been looted the night before, in keeping with a fine american tradition. We went back home (after wasting gas in, ya know, searching for gas) and awaited word on what had happened at my work. I was hearing reports on the radio that there had been a lotof damage to the courthouse building. Needless to say, by this point, cell phones were pretty useless. The ones who didn't have their towers destroyed by the storm were overloaded and would often result in either a busy signal or a "system busy" notice. Finally I was able to get through to my boss, who informed me that meetings were going on while we spoke that would determine when the courthouse would re-open. A couple of hours later, she called me to tell me that the building was closed until at least Monday (the 31st). I told Kim to throw the bags in the car, load up the dogs....cuz we were heading north! We finally hit the road at about 6pm, ready for our drive to Orlando, which usually takes about 3 1/2 hours. Traffic was pretty heavy on the turnpike, and Kim was pretty worried about the gas situation in her car (we took two cars), since she only had about 1/2 a tank.
We got to the first service plaza in Palm Beach, and the line was still almost 2 miles long, JUST TO GET GASOLINE. And they were limiting everyone to only $20 worth at that! So I told Kim to keep pushing north, that eventually we'd find a place that we could get gasoline without waiting 2 hours in a line. We got to the Port St Lucie service plaza, and found that the line there was only about a mile long. Uh, no thanks. I told Kim to get off at Ft Pierce, because I knew there were regular gas stations on the road that the exit was on. Well, there were and there are, but their lines were about a mile long. I told Kim to jump on I-95, figuring that we would have an easier time finding gas on 95 as opposed to the turnpike, plus we wouldn't face the restrictions that the turnpike had. The Vero Beach exit had a line at least a mile long. We kept going. We got off at Sebastian. All the gas stations were dark.
Sold out so they closed early. I told Kim that we would probably have to go through to Melbourne. Kim admitted that she was getting worried about the possibility of running out of gas. She had a digital readout in her car that tells her how many miles she has left before her tank is empty, and she was below 30 miles.
She finally got off at the exit before Melbourne, in a town called Palm Bay. We are talking about a town approximately 150 miles away! That's the first place we were able to get gasoline without as much as a one hour wait! Sowe find a gas station that is selling gas, and even here, so far away, there are maybe 2 or 3 cars in line ahead of me. I'm doing some people watching while I wait, and its pretty fascinating stuff. The guy in front of me has at least 10 cannisters that would hold 5 gallons of gasoline and he's filling them up and putting them in the back of his van.
"Dude," I told him, "I sure hope you don't get rearended when you leave. If you do, your going to turn into the Human Torch."
But I don't think he was as out of his mind as the guy who pulled up next to me.
He was driving a Jiffy van, and when he opened the backdoor, I noticed that he had 3 huge Rubbermaid garbage cans, with no lids, and he began to fill them up with gasoline. He was planning on filling these garbage cans, without lids, up with gasoline and drive 150 miles back to Ft Lauderdale. I silently hoped he wasn't planning on smoking on the return trip.
We got back on the road, encountering traffic congestion all the way past Melbourne. We finally arrived at my parents house around 11pm. A five hour trip that usually takes 3 1/2. A hot shower and air conditioning sure isn't appreciated when you have them every day. Trust me.
My friend Greg called me the next day. He had been up in New York City with his son on a vacation, and got stuck without a way to come home. His wife Mary had to ride the storm out in their Ft Lauderdale home by herself. Greg finally went and rented a car and began the long drive from NYC home to Lauderdale. When I talked to him he was just outside of Fayetteville, N.C. He told me that while he was in Virginia.....now remember this....VIRGINIA....he stopped off at a Lowe's in order to buy a couple of 5 gallon cannisters to fill up with gasoline later in the trip.
No 5 gallon cannisters. They were sold out, people heading to Florida. Virginia!!
Later on last evening we got a call from our neighbor with the good news that power had been restored to our neighborhood. We were thrilled that our trip would have to be cut short and we could return home. But we weren't kidding ourselves that we would be returning to anything resembling normalcy. The early word is that the damage to the courthouse was so severe that we may not return until November 7th.
Our neighborhood is a mess. We're the lucky ones, as many, many people in Broward are still without power. Gasoline, ice and patience are in short supply.
It would never happen to us. It'll turn at the last minute and go somewhere else.
We kept thinking that up until the last minute.
Later,
Jeff
Saturday, October 22, 2005
10/22/05---Or, to quote R. Lee Ermey.......
Do you know who R. Lee Ermey is? Why, he's only one of America's finest supporting character actors. You may know him as host of the History Channel's "MailCall" program (yeah, right)...or maybe you know him as the creepy boss in the remake of "Willard" (that would assume that ANYONE actually saw that movie).
Or, like the rest of America, you probably know the great R. Lee as the drill sargeant from the movie "Full Metal Jacket". R. Lee spent half the movie going on one of the alltime greatest profanity riffs ever caught on celluloid, telling each and every wanna be marine just how worthless they were. Worked for some, didn't work for others (I'm talking to you D'Nofrio). Anyway, we mention R. Lee at the beginning of our column today because, in regards to last weekend's Notre Dame-USC game.....well, to paraphrase R. Lee in the movie:
"Boy....I will rip your neck off of your body and shit down your neck."
That's pretty much what happened. USC, on the last play of the game, ripped the neck right off of ND's body and then shit down our neck. All I can say is, thank God I wasn't home to watch the game on television live, because even an extra helping of the Zocor would've kept my blood pressure from going sky high.
Oh, I taped the game. I haven't watched it yet. It's sorta sitting there on my t.v. stand, waiting for me to pop it in and at the sametime, knowing how crazed it will make me. Hell, I watched the damned BYU game today, a game we WON by 26 points...and I was cursing the t.v. into the 3rd quarter. My wife asked me why I didn't just shut it off. I told her that last year I would have, and what bothered me so much was that we were playing like we had last year's coaching staff leading us.
Dumb penalties, careless play...and then, in the 4th quarter, we sorta kicked it into gear and showed the Mormons the door. But anyway, back to last weekend:
So I had spent the whole day wanting to only think about my late uncle and my mom's family. I knew I was taping the game, so I didn't want to "sneak a peek" at the television during the day, and I didn't want to use the earphones that my sister had brought me to use (how tacky would THAT have been?). Nope, I didn't want to be concerned with the game. So, around 7:30ish, I know the game is either over or just about to be over (and you can thank NBC and their approximately 47 commercials for the length of the ND games). My brother sneaks into the t.v. room at my aunt's house to get ready for the FSU-Virginia game and I walk out. I figure, if for some reason (O.T. maybe?) the game is still on.....I'm not going to want to subject myself to the torture of watching the game and go completely apeshit in front of a bunch of grieving relatives whether they win or lose. I mean, if they lose and I see it...I figured I'd be all sort of miserable. On the other hand, if they won....how would it look to a bunch of grieving relatives if I was screaming like a lunatic because my favorite football team had won a game? Am I not the picture of maturity here?
So I go outside and pray my little silent pray to the good Lord to remind him which of the two schools is, ya know CATHOLIC and all.....and then go back inside and see my father and brother watching the baseball game. Or should I say, SUPPOSEDLY watching the baseball game. What a couple of pokerfaces!!!
My sister is in another room answering a call from her husband and I hear her mention the game....and then....the inevitable....
"So what was the score of the Notre Dame game?"
I could tell by the look on her face that the news was not good. She handed me the phone and my brother in law John starts telling me that he had just watched one of the greatest games he'd ever seen in his life and that my team should be proud of themselves. I handed the phone back to my sister and walked quietly back into the t.v. room where my dad and brother were. They looked at my face and I told them that the Irish had lost. They told me that they knew, and had been watching the end of the game while I was outside--praying.
The only good thing about the day---and its not really good, just a little tit for tat---is that my father's Cardinals lost to the Astros and my brother had to suffer through a loss by his beloved FSU Noles to Virginia. Ya know, misery does love company.
I saw the highlights the next day. I saw the controversy at the end of the game, which is not surprising in the series between USC and Notre Dame. That's not me with sour grapes...that's just me saying that there is usually some rather eyebrow raising calls one way or another during the games between these two. I find it particularly interesting that, in defeat, Notre Dame may have gained more national respect than they may have ever gotten in victory. All of a sudden ESPN loves the Irish (well except for Mark May, who has done a really good job of looking like a complete and utter fucking moron in his continued bashing of the Irish) and can't praise them enough.
Pretty amazing what a coach can do, huh? All those guys who were too slow, or not athletic enough under Ty Willingham are now setting records on a weekly basis.
Yep...pretty amazing. Ty, for the record, now stands at 1-6 at UW. Ahem.
Later,
Jeff
Or, like the rest of America, you probably know the great R. Lee as the drill sargeant from the movie "Full Metal Jacket". R. Lee spent half the movie going on one of the alltime greatest profanity riffs ever caught on celluloid, telling each and every wanna be marine just how worthless they were. Worked for some, didn't work for others (I'm talking to you D'Nofrio). Anyway, we mention R. Lee at the beginning of our column today because, in regards to last weekend's Notre Dame-USC game.....well, to paraphrase R. Lee in the movie:
"Boy....I will rip your neck off of your body and shit down your neck."
That's pretty much what happened. USC, on the last play of the game, ripped the neck right off of ND's body and then shit down our neck. All I can say is, thank God I wasn't home to watch the game on television live, because even an extra helping of the Zocor would've kept my blood pressure from going sky high.
Oh, I taped the game. I haven't watched it yet. It's sorta sitting there on my t.v. stand, waiting for me to pop it in and at the sametime, knowing how crazed it will make me. Hell, I watched the damned BYU game today, a game we WON by 26 points...and I was cursing the t.v. into the 3rd quarter. My wife asked me why I didn't just shut it off. I told her that last year I would have, and what bothered me so much was that we were playing like we had last year's coaching staff leading us.
Dumb penalties, careless play...and then, in the 4th quarter, we sorta kicked it into gear and showed the Mormons the door. But anyway, back to last weekend:
So I had spent the whole day wanting to only think about my late uncle and my mom's family. I knew I was taping the game, so I didn't want to "sneak a peek" at the television during the day, and I didn't want to use the earphones that my sister had brought me to use (how tacky would THAT have been?). Nope, I didn't want to be concerned with the game. So, around 7:30ish, I know the game is either over or just about to be over (and you can thank NBC and their approximately 47 commercials for the length of the ND games). My brother sneaks into the t.v. room at my aunt's house to get ready for the FSU-Virginia game and I walk out. I figure, if for some reason (O.T. maybe?) the game is still on.....I'm not going to want to subject myself to the torture of watching the game and go completely apeshit in front of a bunch of grieving relatives whether they win or lose. I mean, if they lose and I see it...I figured I'd be all sort of miserable. On the other hand, if they won....how would it look to a bunch of grieving relatives if I was screaming like a lunatic because my favorite football team had won a game? Am I not the picture of maturity here?
So I go outside and pray my little silent pray to the good Lord to remind him which of the two schools is, ya know CATHOLIC and all.....and then go back inside and see my father and brother watching the baseball game. Or should I say, SUPPOSEDLY watching the baseball game. What a couple of pokerfaces!!!
My sister is in another room answering a call from her husband and I hear her mention the game....and then....the inevitable....
"So what was the score of the Notre Dame game?"
I could tell by the look on her face that the news was not good. She handed me the phone and my brother in law John starts telling me that he had just watched one of the greatest games he'd ever seen in his life and that my team should be proud of themselves. I handed the phone back to my sister and walked quietly back into the t.v. room where my dad and brother were. They looked at my face and I told them that the Irish had lost. They told me that they knew, and had been watching the end of the game while I was outside--praying.
The only good thing about the day---and its not really good, just a little tit for tat---is that my father's Cardinals lost to the Astros and my brother had to suffer through a loss by his beloved FSU Noles to Virginia. Ya know, misery does love company.
I saw the highlights the next day. I saw the controversy at the end of the game, which is not surprising in the series between USC and Notre Dame. That's not me with sour grapes...that's just me saying that there is usually some rather eyebrow raising calls one way or another during the games between these two. I find it particularly interesting that, in defeat, Notre Dame may have gained more national respect than they may have ever gotten in victory. All of a sudden ESPN loves the Irish (well except for Mark May, who has done a really good job of looking like a complete and utter fucking moron in his continued bashing of the Irish) and can't praise them enough.
Pretty amazing what a coach can do, huh? All those guys who were too slow, or not athletic enough under Ty Willingham are now setting records on a weekly basis.
Yep...pretty amazing. Ty, for the record, now stands at 1-6 at UW. Ahem.
Later,
Jeff
Monday, October 17, 2005
10/17/05---Road Trip aka "Things You'd Never Bet You Would Hear Your Father Say"
So of course I flew up to Jacksonville early Saturday morning, with the plan being that I would be picked up by my sister, who would be driving the rented van that would cart the whole family up to South Carolina for my uncle's funeral.
The Jacksonville airport is nice, but its not exactly what I would call an "international" airport, and by that I mean there are no chairs on the bottom level. So I was up on the upper level, reading a book when my cell rang and my brother asked where I was. I told him that I was sitting on the upper level (silly me thinking that they might call and say something like--"uh, we're 2 minutes away...get your shit together") and then I headed to the lower level where they were waiting. I walk out the door and see them sitting about 30 yards away talking to a deputy. My sister puts the pedal to the medal and pulls up alongside me. Now...this wasn't a pickup that would rival a NASCAR pitstop, ya know. The car began to unload like a series of dominoes going over. First my sister, then my brother, then my niece, then my mom....and all the while there's this deputy standing there, and you can just tell he's getting all sorts of nervous with the fact that we're there. Mind you, we were the only car in the loading and unloading zone for approximately a 100 yard range either way, but that didn't matter to him. His job was to keep this area clear of traffic and that was what he was going to do.
Meanwhile, I go to put my bags in the back, but my brother decides to REORGANIZE all the luggage. Ah those former military types and their organization skills. So he's stacking and restacking, and I'm standing there smiling at Mr. Deputy, who I can tell is getting aggitated and just waiting for someone to say something remotely smart-mouth so he can pull out a weapon and thrash us all within an inch of our very lives. And then the packing was done. Of course, then my mom had trouble getting back into the van. (Seriously, this was bigtime Abbott & Costello type of stuff) Mom was wearing a dress for the funeral (I was the only one not dressed for the solemn occasion--the idea of changing clothes at a truckstop sounded vaguely disturbing to me somehow) and was convinced that as she sat down in the van that she would be exposing herself to anyone within view....and being the lady that she is, was trying her best to maintain decorum. Which is fine,except it was keeping us from pulling away from the curb. Well finally we got the old girl in (sorry Mom, couldn't resist) and we're on our way. Whew! All this and we're not even away from the curb! So we have about a 3 hour drive from Jax up into South Carolina and the home of my Aunt Ruby, which is going to be ground zero meeting place for all those who are going to the funeral. During that 3 hours, we talk about times past, times ahead...and current goings on in our lives. My mother, who at some point has become an expert on Wal-Mart, tries to explain the difference between a "city Wal-Mart" and a "country Wal-Mart". Don't laugh. Its as real as real can be. Apparently at the COUNTRY Wal-Mart, they probably don't carry certain items---including the one thing that my father inlightened us with.
And I quote:
"Ya know, they even carry that K-Y jelly at Wal-Mart now."
I don't wanna know. No. Stop it. I am NOT going to go there. Even I have limits.
So finally we get to my aunt's house, which is one of those legendary places that you always remember from your childhood. She has a massive 2 story house, complete with the pillars (or maybe their called "gables") in front of her house. She's lived there as long as I can remember, her and two of her sons, my cousins Larry & Chris, who are what would politically correctly be referred to as "special needs" persons. To me, their just my cousins. We pull up and I immediately see my cousin Robin, who I hadn't seen in about 10 years and then go up the stairs to see my aunt.
"Oh Jeff," she says, "I didn't even make you any macaroni and cheese."
My aunt. Her brother has died a few days before, she's getting ready to go to the funeral....and she's thinking about how much I love her macaroni and cheese.
Of course...it is really good macaroni and cheese.
The funeral, as described earlier, is a quiet and solemn affair. The military ceremony at the cemetary is very impressive and emotional. I take a photo of my grandparents headstones.
I think about my maternal grandmother often. She's been gone now for over 18 years now and she's still a presence in not only my life, but of everyone who was there. "Corene" is still alive in our hearts and minds. During the funeral service, as the minister was speaking, one of the lights above our heads suddenly flickered for a moment. My mother turned around to my sister and I and said:
"There's Corene."
And she wasn't saying it with any sense of humor, or with a touch of sassiness. She believed it. And so did we. When we were at the gravesite of my uncle, my mother was looking at the casket of her brother when she looked down and realized that she was standing on her mother's grave.
"Oh good Lord, I'm standing on Corene's grave."
Right when she said it, and mind you...she was standing no where near this spot, about 100 red ants located in the middle of my grandmother's final resting spot came pouring out. It was as if Corene was letting us know.....she still could bite you from beyond. And I am not kidding.
You might find some of this sort of silly, but when your roots--even only half of them--(that's not a shot Dad, just an observation) are in the South, you look at things differently. The day my grandmother was being buried, at the service for her at the funeral home, my sister was going to sing a song that she had written for the occasion....but at the last minute backed out. The director was just getting ready to introduce her.....and the lights in the funeral home went out. All of them. My sister told me that she thought to herself:
"Okay, Corene. I get the message. I'll sing."
And she got up and sang her song. And everyone there....EVERY SINGLE ONE, knew those lights went out because Corene was there with us. I still believe it.
During the ceremony for my uncle, a man began singing Amazing Grace and it was very poignant. Almost as poignant as when I saw my aunt lean over and put her head on my mother's shoulder, quietly crying. And almost as poignant as when their younger brother, my Uncle Andy, leaned over and put his arm around my mother.
My mom looked back, thinking it was me touching her shoulder...and then realized that it was her brother. Just the three of them....the only ones left. Sitting there locked together. It was very sad....and yet, very sweet. Time marches on and waits for no man...or woman.
After the funeral, we decided to go back and check into our hotel in beautiful downtown Hampton, South Carolina.....where unbeknownest to me, they filmed a few scenes from Forrest Gump. Okay, enough trivia. So we get to the hotel, andbecause of problems that my dad has with his legs, he & my mom always request a room on the ground floor of any hotel they stay at. This was requested when they made the reservation. Which means, naturally....that the hotel did not have ANY rooms on the ground floor. I can guaran-damn-tee you that hotel clerk got the raised eyebrow of Mary Bowdren that evening!! So we go back to my aunt's house and visit with a few relatives we hadn't seen in seemingly forever, catching up on all or at least most of the family gossip. Who's doing what...where...and if anyone is currently incarcerated. Well, it is my MOM's family afterall.
While I'm there I try my best not to find out what the score of the ND-USC game is, although my dad and brother peaked....and then did a pokerface and pretended not to know. My dad and my cousin Chris bet $25,000 on the outcome of the NLCS.
Chris swore he would never pay if he lost. Well, after awhile, we make our way back to the hotel. My brother and I went over to the convience store next to the hotel, where I bought a couple of lotto tickets for the POWERBALL, which is worth something like $300 million. My wife told me that if I went there and did NOT buy a Powerball ticket....I might as well not come home at all. Bad news, we didn't win....if I had, my journal would have far better graphics. Ahem.
So my parents are making their way up to their room....and we're helping my dad up the stairs...and he says.
"When I get up there....I'm gonna make myself a stiff drink." (Dad NEVER travels without his Evan Williams and ginger ale--I mean, he's Irish for God's sake)
And then my mother says....
"After the day I've had, I might have a toddy myself."
"Whew Mom," my sister tells her, "you just might get lucky."
"Yeah grandma," my niece remarks, "you might have to stop over to Wal-Mart."
Damn. I swore I wasn't going to go there.
The next morning, we got up and left--just a touch late--and began the drive home.
We stopped off and saw my aunt...and my cousin Robin and made our way back towards Jacksonville. We stopped for gas and some snacks, and my brother almost ended up buying gas for everyone in the station! We got back and everyone began to go their seperate ways. I visited with my sister and her husband Johnny for awhile, until it was time to head towards the airport. We sat for a few minutes, just talking and stuff...until I realized that they were probably boarding my flight already and I hadn't even gone through security. My wife, a notorious stickler for time, would've been in full on freak-out mode. I did a mini-dash through the terminal, (and let's be honest...I'm not going to dash anywhere for very long) and got to the gate just in time to see them begin boarding. To me, that's good timing. To my wife, it would be reasons for a meltdown. But hey, we love one another, ya know?
My sister told me that while we were at the hotel, my parents were sitting in their room, talking about the funeral and some of the in-family bickering that had been taking place (UGH! Why is it that funeral bring out the WORST in people?). And my father told my mother how lucky they were....to have kids that loved each other so much.
I used to always say that my family was so normal. We had problems like everyone else...we had our bumps in the road...sometimes more than one or two. But we always knew that we could go to our family for help or guidance. If it was something that we didn't want to discuss with our parents, we had each other.
During 1997, or as I call it, my "Year of Living Dangerously"....my sister and I drove up to South Carolina to visit our aunt. During the drive, we talked about everything.
I mean, even stuff that you would think siblings wouldn't want to discuss with each other. And that's why we're so close. Because we can. Because sitting on a bed in a hotel room in Hampton, S.C., I can talk to my dad about my kids and my fears that I'm not being a good parent. And because he can look me in the eye and tell me to stay the course...that I'm doing the right thing. That's why we're all so close.
And so blessed to have each other.
Later,
Jeff
The Jacksonville airport is nice, but its not exactly what I would call an "international" airport, and by that I mean there are no chairs on the bottom level. So I was up on the upper level, reading a book when my cell rang and my brother asked where I was. I told him that I was sitting on the upper level (silly me thinking that they might call and say something like--"uh, we're 2 minutes away...get your shit together") and then I headed to the lower level where they were waiting. I walk out the door and see them sitting about 30 yards away talking to a deputy. My sister puts the pedal to the medal and pulls up alongside me. Now...this wasn't a pickup that would rival a NASCAR pitstop, ya know. The car began to unload like a series of dominoes going over. First my sister, then my brother, then my niece, then my mom....and all the while there's this deputy standing there, and you can just tell he's getting all sorts of nervous with the fact that we're there. Mind you, we were the only car in the loading and unloading zone for approximately a 100 yard range either way, but that didn't matter to him. His job was to keep this area clear of traffic and that was what he was going to do.
Meanwhile, I go to put my bags in the back, but my brother decides to REORGANIZE all the luggage. Ah those former military types and their organization skills. So he's stacking and restacking, and I'm standing there smiling at Mr. Deputy, who I can tell is getting aggitated and just waiting for someone to say something remotely smart-mouth so he can pull out a weapon and thrash us all within an inch of our very lives. And then the packing was done. Of course, then my mom had trouble getting back into the van. (Seriously, this was bigtime Abbott & Costello type of stuff) Mom was wearing a dress for the funeral (I was the only one not dressed for the solemn occasion--the idea of changing clothes at a truckstop sounded vaguely disturbing to me somehow) and was convinced that as she sat down in the van that she would be exposing herself to anyone within view....and being the lady that she is, was trying her best to maintain decorum. Which is fine,except it was keeping us from pulling away from the curb. Well finally we got the old girl in (sorry Mom, couldn't resist) and we're on our way. Whew! All this and we're not even away from the curb! So we have about a 3 hour drive from Jax up into South Carolina and the home of my Aunt Ruby, which is going to be ground zero meeting place for all those who are going to the funeral. During that 3 hours, we talk about times past, times ahead...and current goings on in our lives. My mother, who at some point has become an expert on Wal-Mart, tries to explain the difference between a "city Wal-Mart" and a "country Wal-Mart". Don't laugh. Its as real as real can be. Apparently at the COUNTRY Wal-Mart, they probably don't carry certain items---including the one thing that my father inlightened us with.
And I quote:
"Ya know, they even carry that K-Y jelly at Wal-Mart now."
I don't wanna know. No. Stop it. I am NOT going to go there. Even I have limits.
So finally we get to my aunt's house, which is one of those legendary places that you always remember from your childhood. She has a massive 2 story house, complete with the pillars (or maybe their called "gables") in front of her house. She's lived there as long as I can remember, her and two of her sons, my cousins Larry & Chris, who are what would politically correctly be referred to as "special needs" persons. To me, their just my cousins. We pull up and I immediately see my cousin Robin, who I hadn't seen in about 10 years and then go up the stairs to see my aunt.
"Oh Jeff," she says, "I didn't even make you any macaroni and cheese."
My aunt. Her brother has died a few days before, she's getting ready to go to the funeral....and she's thinking about how much I love her macaroni and cheese.
Of course...it is really good macaroni and cheese.
The funeral, as described earlier, is a quiet and solemn affair. The military ceremony at the cemetary is very impressive and emotional. I take a photo of my grandparents headstones.
I think about my maternal grandmother often. She's been gone now for over 18 years now and she's still a presence in not only my life, but of everyone who was there. "Corene" is still alive in our hearts and minds. During the funeral service, as the minister was speaking, one of the lights above our heads suddenly flickered for a moment. My mother turned around to my sister and I and said:
"There's Corene."
And she wasn't saying it with any sense of humor, or with a touch of sassiness. She believed it. And so did we. When we were at the gravesite of my uncle, my mother was looking at the casket of her brother when she looked down and realized that she was standing on her mother's grave.
"Oh good Lord, I'm standing on Corene's grave."
Right when she said it, and mind you...she was standing no where near this spot, about 100 red ants located in the middle of my grandmother's final resting spot came pouring out. It was as if Corene was letting us know.....she still could bite you from beyond. And I am not kidding.
You might find some of this sort of silly, but when your roots--even only half of them--(that's not a shot Dad, just an observation) are in the South, you look at things differently. The day my grandmother was being buried, at the service for her at the funeral home, my sister was going to sing a song that she had written for the occasion....but at the last minute backed out. The director was just getting ready to introduce her.....and the lights in the funeral home went out. All of them. My sister told me that she thought to herself:
"Okay, Corene. I get the message. I'll sing."
And she got up and sang her song. And everyone there....EVERY SINGLE ONE, knew those lights went out because Corene was there with us. I still believe it.
During the ceremony for my uncle, a man began singing Amazing Grace and it was very poignant. Almost as poignant as when I saw my aunt lean over and put her head on my mother's shoulder, quietly crying. And almost as poignant as when their younger brother, my Uncle Andy, leaned over and put his arm around my mother.
My mom looked back, thinking it was me touching her shoulder...and then realized that it was her brother. Just the three of them....the only ones left. Sitting there locked together. It was very sad....and yet, very sweet. Time marches on and waits for no man...or woman.
After the funeral, we decided to go back and check into our hotel in beautiful downtown Hampton, South Carolina.....where unbeknownest to me, they filmed a few scenes from Forrest Gump. Okay, enough trivia. So we get to the hotel, andbecause of problems that my dad has with his legs, he & my mom always request a room on the ground floor of any hotel they stay at. This was requested when they made the reservation. Which means, naturally....that the hotel did not have ANY rooms on the ground floor. I can guaran-damn-tee you that hotel clerk got the raised eyebrow of Mary Bowdren that evening!! So we go back to my aunt's house and visit with a few relatives we hadn't seen in seemingly forever, catching up on all or at least most of the family gossip. Who's doing what...where...and if anyone is currently incarcerated. Well, it is my MOM's family afterall.
While I'm there I try my best not to find out what the score of the ND-USC game is, although my dad and brother peaked....and then did a pokerface and pretended not to know. My dad and my cousin Chris bet $25,000 on the outcome of the NLCS.
Chris swore he would never pay if he lost. Well, after awhile, we make our way back to the hotel. My brother and I went over to the convience store next to the hotel, where I bought a couple of lotto tickets for the POWERBALL, which is worth something like $300 million. My wife told me that if I went there and did NOT buy a Powerball ticket....I might as well not come home at all. Bad news, we didn't win....if I had, my journal would have far better graphics. Ahem.
So my parents are making their way up to their room....and we're helping my dad up the stairs...and he says.
"When I get up there....I'm gonna make myself a stiff drink." (Dad NEVER travels without his Evan Williams and ginger ale--I mean, he's Irish for God's sake)
And then my mother says....
"After the day I've had, I might have a toddy myself."
"Whew Mom," my sister tells her, "you just might get lucky."
"Yeah grandma," my niece remarks, "you might have to stop over to Wal-Mart."
Damn. I swore I wasn't going to go there.
The next morning, we got up and left--just a touch late--and began the drive home.
We stopped off and saw my aunt...and my cousin Robin and made our way back towards Jacksonville. We stopped for gas and some snacks, and my brother almost ended up buying gas for everyone in the station! We got back and everyone began to go their seperate ways. I visited with my sister and her husband Johnny for awhile, until it was time to head towards the airport. We sat for a few minutes, just talking and stuff...until I realized that they were probably boarding my flight already and I hadn't even gone through security. My wife, a notorious stickler for time, would've been in full on freak-out mode. I did a mini-dash through the terminal, (and let's be honest...I'm not going to dash anywhere for very long) and got to the gate just in time to see them begin boarding. To me, that's good timing. To my wife, it would be reasons for a meltdown. But hey, we love one another, ya know?
My sister told me that while we were at the hotel, my parents were sitting in their room, talking about the funeral and some of the in-family bickering that had been taking place (UGH! Why is it that funeral bring out the WORST in people?). And my father told my mother how lucky they were....to have kids that loved each other so much.
I used to always say that my family was so normal. We had problems like everyone else...we had our bumps in the road...sometimes more than one or two. But we always knew that we could go to our family for help or guidance. If it was something that we didn't want to discuss with our parents, we had each other.
During 1997, or as I call it, my "Year of Living Dangerously"....my sister and I drove up to South Carolina to visit our aunt. During the drive, we talked about everything.
I mean, even stuff that you would think siblings wouldn't want to discuss with each other. And that's why we're so close. Because we can. Because sitting on a bed in a hotel room in Hampton, S.C., I can talk to my dad about my kids and my fears that I'm not being a good parent. And because he can look me in the eye and tell me to stay the course...that I'm doing the right thing. That's why we're all so close.
And so blessed to have each other.
Later,
Jeff
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