Memorial Day is a United States federal holiday observed on the last Monday of May (May 31 in 2010). Formerly known as Decoration Day, it commemorates U.S. soldiers who died while in the military service, first enacted to honor Union soldiers of the American Civil War.
Today, as Americans, we are celebrating Memorial Day. For many of us, it's a day off from work, a day for family gatherings, and it marks the unofficial start to summer. However, let's not forget the reason for this holiday. It's an opportunity for all Americans to remember those men and women who have made the ultimate sacrifice protecting our freedom. To those individuals, I say a heartfelt thank you.
The ultimate sacrifice, what could possibly be a greater gift to anyone? Certainly when it comes to defending the ones you love, there is no greater measure of that love. How about others with whom we have differences? Is it more important to defend our beliefs or more important to accept others for theirs? That is really what lies at the heart of this age old dilemma. So, on this Memorial Day, I propose we remember the fallen, preach for greater tolerance and acceptance, and pray for peace, the ultimate solution!
Monday, May 31, 2010
Saturday, May 29, 2010
His name sure rings a bell
Most younger, music aficionados would recognize the name John Fogerty. For the vast majority of those individuals, they would be thinking of John Cameron Fogerty (born May 28, 1945) who is an American rock singer, songwriter, and guitarist, best known for his time with the swamp rock/roots rock band Creedence Clearwater Revival (CCR) and as a #1 solo recording artist. However, for those of us who remember May 29th, 1978, there just may be a different face associated with that name.
I remember a John Fogerty whose birthday is indeed May 29th, 1978, the Monday of Memorial Day weekend that year. He arrived shortly after 6 in the morning while most of us were still sound asleep. His excited parents brought him to their home which resided over the office, the primary residence for several of his Aunts and Uncles before him, as well as a couple of his cousins presently. Obviously, 51 Sparhawk St. has been and still remains a "relatively" important address in this family.
Of course, being the first grandchild, he drew lots of attention from the energized family generation before him. His mother quickly learned how to hold him, vacuum, and talk on the phone, all at the same time, mothers, the original multitaskers. Grandpa's truck quickly became "Johnnies Truck", and it even bore his name. Something his grandfather had never done for his own kids. His Uncles were determined to teach him the fine art of fielding ground balls, hitting a baseball, and shooting the all important jump shot, while his mother and grandmother were convinced he'd be a star by dressing him up as the "Little Hummel" boy in a look alike contest. All reasonable aspirations, but John was the oldest, and he had a slightly different course in his mind for his future.
John heeded the words of Horace Greeley, however, and went West where he could spread his wings over the wide open spaces of the Wind River basin of Wyoming. This is where he apparently has found his "niche", building log homes, telling stories around the campfire, and you perhaps guessed it, writing and singing songs. The outdoors, that's what he loves and where he belongs, not among his white collared colleagues and contemporaries. He once told his mother that being in an office just wasn't for him, and he was right.
So, to my nephew who has found a kindred spirit in another singer/songwriter with a "remahkably similah" name, congratulations on your personal success and achievement. Happy Birthday. It's just too bad that you have to share the spotlight with this other singer dude because we recognize the real John Fogerty. In fact, his face doesn't look at all familiar, but his name sure rings a bell!
I remember a John Fogerty whose birthday is indeed May 29th, 1978, the Monday of Memorial Day weekend that year. He arrived shortly after 6 in the morning while most of us were still sound asleep. His excited parents brought him to their home which resided over the office, the primary residence for several of his Aunts and Uncles before him, as well as a couple of his cousins presently. Obviously, 51 Sparhawk St. has been and still remains a "relatively" important address in this family.
Of course, being the first grandchild, he drew lots of attention from the energized family generation before him. His mother quickly learned how to hold him, vacuum, and talk on the phone, all at the same time, mothers, the original multitaskers. Grandpa's truck quickly became "Johnnies Truck", and it even bore his name. Something his grandfather had never done for his own kids. His Uncles were determined to teach him the fine art of fielding ground balls, hitting a baseball, and shooting the all important jump shot, while his mother and grandmother were convinced he'd be a star by dressing him up as the "Little Hummel" boy in a look alike contest. All reasonable aspirations, but John was the oldest, and he had a slightly different course in his mind for his future.
John heeded the words of Horace Greeley, however, and went West where he could spread his wings over the wide open spaces of the Wind River basin of Wyoming. This is where he apparently has found his "niche", building log homes, telling stories around the campfire, and you perhaps guessed it, writing and singing songs. The outdoors, that's what he loves and where he belongs, not among his white collared colleagues and contemporaries. He once told his mother that being in an office just wasn't for him, and he was right.
So, to my nephew who has found a kindred spirit in another singer/songwriter with a "remahkably similah" name, congratulations on your personal success and achievement. Happy Birthday. It's just too bad that you have to share the spotlight with this other singer dude because we recognize the real John Fogerty. In fact, his face doesn't look at all familiar, but his name sure rings a bell!
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Graduation day
Certainly for anyone born on May 27th, this is a day that carries obvious significance. However, for a certain few, this is a day that simply may come and go without fanfare, but for me, it was another step in the journey of life. May 27th marks the 32nd anniversary of my college graduation from the "Zoo", aka UMass, Amherst. Frankly, there isn't anything too special about the day for me either, except that I remember my sister and her husband were unable to attend because she was in the final days of her confinement with their first child. She was expecting, and this was going to be the first grandchild for my parents. Naturally, the whole family was excited about this, so my sister was given a "written excuse" for her absence.
However, when she graduated from college we were all "expected" to be there because, except for my parents, none of us went to her HS graduation. In retrospect, it's now time to say I am sorry for not going to yours. After all, she was the only one who attended Amesbury HS but not actually in Amesbury. The old Amesbury HS burned down in 1964, and it took the "confounding" fathers 2-3 years to determine the site for the new school. By the time construction was completed, this sister had attended all of her 4 years of HS in the neighboring town, long bus rides and no physical building to call her "alma mater". However, she persevered and starred in her Senior class play, "Pride and Prejudice", making us all very proud, as we sat in the front rows of the Town Hall auditorium.
To my older sister, my mother's carbon copy, thanks for enduring the disappointment of not having us there on your graduation day. You played Elizabeth Bennett on stage, but off stage, you have been larger than life, and for that, I have been forever grateful. Happy Graduation Day, even though I am a little late!
However, when she graduated from college we were all "expected" to be there because, except for my parents, none of us went to her HS graduation. In retrospect, it's now time to say I am sorry for not going to yours. After all, she was the only one who attended Amesbury HS but not actually in Amesbury. The old Amesbury HS burned down in 1964, and it took the "confounding" fathers 2-3 years to determine the site for the new school. By the time construction was completed, this sister had attended all of her 4 years of HS in the neighboring town, long bus rides and no physical building to call her "alma mater". However, she persevered and starred in her Senior class play, "Pride and Prejudice", making us all very proud, as we sat in the front rows of the Town Hall auditorium.
To my older sister, my mother's carbon copy, thanks for enduring the disappointment of not having us there on your graduation day. You played Elizabeth Bennett on stage, but off stage, you have been larger than life, and for that, I have been forever grateful. Happy Graduation Day, even though I am a little late!
Evolution suffers a setback or does it?
The caveman has been a very well recognized part of our natural history since the dawn of time. Fortunately, for some, that evolutionary history has brought with it a sense of civility and culture that our earlier ancestors likely failed to exhibit. Although the caveman did possess a very keen insight, however basic perhaps, into those primal forces which were necessary to keep men and women compatible. The space that bears his name is at the very epicenter of his personal comfort zone, and that would be the man cave. Evolution has brought about many great advances, but the contribution of the man cave remains a vestige of the past which should never be overlooked. Please allow me to illustrate some salient points about the "man cave" that will likely keep it permanently off the endangered species list.
During my lifetime, I have subconsciously found myself seeking the refuge of the "man cave". When I was in college, I spent my summers sleeping in the family tent trailer, partly because of its solitude, but in part because of its intimate connection with the outdoors. Later on, the "man cave" was the wood shop, my idea of a real "boardroom", where I was able to retreat for some serious downloading. Since the wood shop, I have actually set up camp in several manly environments, first Man Cave I, then Man Cave II, and now my safe haven is the ultimate Man Cave, or the Farm. Each has served a very fundamental need, initially one of survival and then ultimately one to call home. I suppose my experience hasn't been much different than my wandering ancestors in that regard, or anyone else for that matter who has yet to give up the vagabond life.
As you see, it may very well be part of man's DNA to hunt, gather, and eventually retire to the confines of the cave. The evolutionary process led us to a crossroad that "required" a decision, give up the man cave or move on. Well, from my perspective, the man cave is critical to survival, only instead of moving on, the man cave today is simply an "on site" destination, a personal space to call home. In fact, it's potentially a home within a home for some, but for me, I just call it home!
During my lifetime, I have subconsciously found myself seeking the refuge of the "man cave". When I was in college, I spent my summers sleeping in the family tent trailer, partly because of its solitude, but in part because of its intimate connection with the outdoors. Later on, the "man cave" was the wood shop, my idea of a real "boardroom", where I was able to retreat for some serious downloading. Since the wood shop, I have actually set up camp in several manly environments, first Man Cave I, then Man Cave II, and now my safe haven is the ultimate Man Cave, or the Farm. Each has served a very fundamental need, initially one of survival and then ultimately one to call home. I suppose my experience hasn't been much different than my wandering ancestors in that regard, or anyone else for that matter who has yet to give up the vagabond life.
As you see, it may very well be part of man's DNA to hunt, gather, and eventually retire to the confines of the cave. The evolutionary process led us to a crossroad that "required" a decision, give up the man cave or move on. Well, from my perspective, the man cave is critical to survival, only instead of moving on, the man cave today is simply an "on site" destination, a personal space to call home. In fact, it's potentially a home within a home for some, but for me, I just call it home!
Monday, May 24, 2010
No leg to stand on
We have all heard the expression, "he hasn't got a leg to stand on". Simply put, it means there is no argument and the chance to change the outlook on things is unlikely. However, if you don't use it as a metaphor, you may just mean it quite literally, and for one of my dear brothers, it appears the die is now "casted" for his summer plans or at least his leg is.
During a recent visit to my folks, my brother dutifully exited the afternoon group "debriefing" out on the front lawn to take his is son, Chachi, to baseball practice. It was his dad's turn to get him to the park on time. Upon arrival, it was evident that most of the parents had dropped their kids off with the coaches and had gone about their business for the next few hours. After some negotiating, little Chachi was able to convince his dad to stick around and help out. That decision sealed his fate the summer. After avoiding a foul tipped ball, my brother fell to the ground, no pain, no noise, just like a "brother" load. Unable to get up, he was assisted to the bench by the coaches and managed to make "the call" home for some advice. The report of his patella being felt in his thigh was a subtle clue to me that he "had a problem". Upon arrival, I found him sitting on the bench, an unfamiliar place for him; however, these were markedly different circumstances than during his playing days. After the exam, it was determined that he had indeed ruptured his patella tendon, not good for anyone who wants to stand on his own 2 feet.
Now that he has had the requisite surgical repair, the summer plans for hiking and whatever else requiring 2 good legs, will have to be put on hold. As for my brother, he has been a trooper through his misfortune, and has barely whimpered an utterance of disdain or mentioned the certain discomfort of it all. Thankfully, he is on the road to recovery, and as for being in a hurry, forget about it because you can't "shake a leg". Just remember what we Red Sox fans say, there is always next year, so keep the faith!
During a recent visit to my folks, my brother dutifully exited the afternoon group "debriefing" out on the front lawn to take his is son, Chachi, to baseball practice. It was his dad's turn to get him to the park on time. Upon arrival, it was evident that most of the parents had dropped their kids off with the coaches and had gone about their business for the next few hours. After some negotiating, little Chachi was able to convince his dad to stick around and help out. That decision sealed his fate the summer. After avoiding a foul tipped ball, my brother fell to the ground, no pain, no noise, just like a "brother" load. Unable to get up, he was assisted to the bench by the coaches and managed to make "the call" home for some advice. The report of his patella being felt in his thigh was a subtle clue to me that he "had a problem". Upon arrival, I found him sitting on the bench, an unfamiliar place for him; however, these were markedly different circumstances than during his playing days. After the exam, it was determined that he had indeed ruptured his patella tendon, not good for anyone who wants to stand on his own 2 feet.
Now that he has had the requisite surgical repair, the summer plans for hiking and whatever else requiring 2 good legs, will have to be put on hold. As for my brother, he has been a trooper through his misfortune, and has barely whimpered an utterance of disdain or mentioned the certain discomfort of it all. Thankfully, he is on the road to recovery, and as for being in a hurry, forget about it because you can't "shake a leg". Just remember what we Red Sox fans say, there is always next year, so keep the faith!
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Dad, let's just call it a wash, OK?
How many times have you done business with someone and at the end of the transaction, simply asked to have the bill sent to you. At least in the "old days" that would have been a rather typical scenario. Nowadays, however, payment is expected at the time of service unless other arrangements have been made. In fact, I have been asked to pay as much as half down and half on delivery. Does any of this sound vaguely familiar? When it comes to certain debts, I am sure the real cost of repayment cannot be remotely achieved, and let me explain why.
For the second time in as many years, my siblings and I assembled at the family home to complete the desperately needed paint job on the house and garage we had started last year. Fortunately, the weather prevailed again, and we were able to, this time, essentially put the finishing touches on the project. At the end of the day, somewhere between the socializing on the lawn and dinner, I would remind my father that he could anticipate receiving an invoice for the job any day. Of course, he was ready and willing to pay the bill the moment he was aware of it, as he always had in the past, no questions asked. Naturally, we shared a few chuckles during that part of the conversation because we both recognized the real truth about this "imaginary" invoice.
Account Number...8@SCH-ESTES
1125.00...Paint: 15 gallons Gray; 10 gallons White Trim
60.00...Brushes: 6 brushes; 6 rollers
30.00...Caulking: 6 tubes
8000.00...Labor
1000.00...Incidentals: food and beer
12,215.00...Total Cost
As I "contemplated" preparing the "invoice" for my Dad, I thought about all the sacrifices that he and my Mom had made over the years for the family. Perhaps the biggest expense would have been feeding a family of 8. Let's assume 3 meals a day for 18 years times 8 kids. That's 157,680 meals with an average price of $5.00 so roughly $788,000. Then there are the college educations at an average cost of $12,000 per child, so that's roughly $96,000. Now let's throw in the 4 cross county camping trips, the trip to Encampment and the multiple trips to visit relatives; how could you put a price tag on all that? As for the other day to day expenses, it would be simply mind boggling to "guessitmate" that.
I am no Accountant, but we would have to cook the books slightly to get this spread sheet to balance out. As I see things Dad, I think you and Mom have earned all the "credit" that you so richly deserve, and anytime you need something, just let us know. So, on second thought, maybe we should just call this one a wash because you appear to have a considerable credit balance, and remember, you can use it at anytime, day or night!
For the second time in as many years, my siblings and I assembled at the family home to complete the desperately needed paint job on the house and garage we had started last year. Fortunately, the weather prevailed again, and we were able to, this time, essentially put the finishing touches on the project. At the end of the day, somewhere between the socializing on the lawn and dinner, I would remind my father that he could anticipate receiving an invoice for the job any day. Of course, he was ready and willing to pay the bill the moment he was aware of it, as he always had in the past, no questions asked. Naturally, we shared a few chuckles during that part of the conversation because we both recognized the real truth about this "imaginary" invoice.
Account Number...8@SCH-ESTES
1125.00...Paint: 15 gallons Gray; 10 gallons White Trim
60.00...Brushes: 6 brushes; 6 rollers
30.00...Caulking: 6 tubes
8000.00...Labor
1000.00...Incidentals: food and beer
12,215.00...Total Cost
As I "contemplated" preparing the "invoice" for my Dad, I thought about all the sacrifices that he and my Mom had made over the years for the family. Perhaps the biggest expense would have been feeding a family of 8. Let's assume 3 meals a day for 18 years times 8 kids. That's 157,680 meals with an average price of $5.00 so roughly $788,000. Then there are the college educations at an average cost of $12,000 per child, so that's roughly $96,000. Now let's throw in the 4 cross county camping trips, the trip to Encampment and the multiple trips to visit relatives; how could you put a price tag on all that? As for the other day to day expenses, it would be simply mind boggling to "guessitmate" that.
I am no Accountant, but we would have to cook the books slightly to get this spread sheet to balance out. As I see things Dad, I think you and Mom have earned all the "credit" that you so richly deserve, and anytime you need something, just let us know. So, on second thought, maybe we should just call this one a wash because you appear to have a considerable credit balance, and remember, you can use it at anytime, day or night!
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Which would you choose?
Remember Larry Bird? He was perhaps one of the most exciting players to play in the NBA in the 80's and 90's. Imagine this now. You are offered tickets to see Larry Bird and the Boston Celtics play against the Atlanta Hawks starring Dominique Wilkins in an NBA playoff game or go to your niece's birthday party. Which would you choose? Well, let me tell how the story unfolded.
I just happened to be enjoying some rare time off from residency training, so I was at home visiting my parents. The time coincided with my niece's 5th birthday, and having been away for so many years, the idea of being part of the celebration was exciting to me. Then came the offer. I was invited to the 5th game of the Celtics-Hawks game, and what Celtics fan would pass up an opportunity to see Larry Bird and company in the playoffs at the Boston Garden? You guessed it, Uncle Stevie. It was a tough choice, but to be around this bright eyed 5 year old with her million dollar smile and family was all it took to convince me that this was the right decision. After all, I knew I could watch the game on TV with everyone, so how could anything else top that?
Over the years, I have made some, shall we say, questionable choices, but this was one that I never regretted. I do remember the outcome of that game 5, because the Celtics lost. They had to go to 7 games to win that series in a classic duel, one for the ages between Bird and Wilkins in which the C's won. It remains a classic, but being part of the family celebration far out weighed that alternative or "anything" that would have come from that experience. Happy Birthday Ms. LMF. As much as I enjoy watching all those Boston sports teams, they don't compare. You have been, you are, and always will be a winner, a perennial champion to me!
I just happened to be enjoying some rare time off from residency training, so I was at home visiting my parents. The time coincided with my niece's 5th birthday, and having been away for so many years, the idea of being part of the celebration was exciting to me. Then came the offer. I was invited to the 5th game of the Celtics-Hawks game, and what Celtics fan would pass up an opportunity to see Larry Bird and company in the playoffs at the Boston Garden? You guessed it, Uncle Stevie. It was a tough choice, but to be around this bright eyed 5 year old with her million dollar smile and family was all it took to convince me that this was the right decision. After all, I knew I could watch the game on TV with everyone, so how could anything else top that?
Over the years, I have made some, shall we say, questionable choices, but this was one that I never regretted. I do remember the outcome of that game 5, because the Celtics lost. They had to go to 7 games to win that series in a classic duel, one for the ages between Bird and Wilkins in which the C's won. It remains a classic, but being part of the family celebration far out weighed that alternative or "anything" that would have come from that experience. Happy Birthday Ms. LMF. As much as I enjoy watching all those Boston sports teams, they don't compare. You have been, you are, and always will be a winner, a perennial champion to me!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
