Coal Miner's Daughter

2009-08-06T19:46:00.002-05:00

I just heard something that was wrong on so many levels today it has me furious.

The National Rifle Association has intervened so the Center for Disease Control is unable to track how many of our children have been killed by gun shots.

That's right they are a lobby so powerful they have stopped the flow if information. Our children are dying every day to gun violence and we can't study the stats. May God Damn them.

2009-08-02T17:04:00.003-05:00

powderhornhockey
Since Jamie joined Ginger, Princess and Soccer Jerry has been pretty quiet. He has taken to sleeping curled up in a ball at my feet under my desk, he's sneezing and his eyes water at times. I'm hoping it's allergies as cat's get them too and he will be better soon. Anyway it's past time I told of how Target became Jerry Garcia.

I found Target (Jerry's original name) at the Tonawanda SPCA he was in a group of cages of animals on the "short list" he was 6 months old and was a mess. No whiskers and a coat that looked well, like a cat had dragged it in. As I walked by he stuck a paw out and grabbed me, I stopped and opened the cage, it took 10 seconds we were a match and he went home with me. In a couple of months the little guy became the long whiskered fluffy cat we know today, it is wonderful what love and good nutrition will do. We called him Target as he was a moving target for the two older cats we had at the time. When Jamie appeared on our doorstep he and Target bonded like litter mates and they were inseparable.

Two years later my first husband and I separated in all of our painful decisions in the divorce dealing with our cats was easy, the two oldest were closer to Sam the younger pair to me. Target and Jamie went with me in our new life on our own.

By this time Target had discovered catnip, oh had he discovered the stuff, he was totally addicted. A girlfriend Linda would bring him fresh from her garden and he would meet her at the door and dance at her feet for the stuff. Sometimes he would sneak out on my patio and run off on my landlords 2nd floor roof leaping along it's gables. He would never come back, my puddy was gone for hours. One night Linda got the idea to wave a sprig of cat nip at him, he saw his drug and he came running back home. That was the night he was christened Jerry Garcia my little catnip lover and abuser.

When the time came for my cats to meet Patrick, Jamie took to him quickly, Jerry took a little time. Every time Patrick visited me in Buffalo Jerry greeted him by fluffing himself out in an effort to protect me then he would hide under the couch for a couple of days,my hero. Eventually Jerry decided this strange man was ok and accepted him.

The journey to Chicago went well Jerry true to form was put into his large carrier with a generous portion of catnip and nodded and grooved his way to Chicago and his new life as a city cat. He quickly became a fixture in the front window and learned to climb out on to the porch roof. For the last 12 years the garden has produced a succession of high quality organic catnip for my little guy and he bogarts every sprig that comes into the house. Not bad for an old man of 17 years!

2009-07-27T20:07:00.007-05:00

Since we said good-by to Jamie two week s ago I have had repeated requests for this story, so here it is.

Jamie and how he became the Enterprise Kitty, going bravely where no cat had gone before him!

It was December 26th and we had a plumbing emergency, the one toilet in the house was not working due to of all things a faulty bathroom floor. Our friend Bob our usual carpenter bless him came over right away and started to work. Since we had no working bathroom Bob told us to simply go out and enjoy the day and return about 4:00 when he would have a bathroom floor in and a working toilet. I moved the cats water and litter box out of the bathroom and since Bob was a cat owner himself everything would be OK.

We returned at 4:00 bathroom floor done, toilet working everything perfect or so we thought. The gray cat Gerry Garcia came out looking for attention right away. It was probably 10 minutes later when we heard the muffled wheezing coming from UNDER Ceili's bedroom floor. Patrick and I had the same thought at the same time, could Jamie have crawled from the plumbing access by the tub past the bathroom, under the hall and to Ceili's bedroom? A quick line up of the access point and the wheezing told the story. The Smoo had crawled in under the tub and followed a rafter and now was wheezing from breathing 100 year old dust all day. Could he get out? Would he get out? I melted down, ready to get out a saw and rip up the floor right then and there. Thank God Patrick's calmer head prevailed. He simply placed a electric candle at the plumbing access and a bowl of his favorite cat food next to it. Then explained to me that our little chow hound of a cat would head for the light and food.

It didn't take 10 minutes, out popped his little head like a prairie dog looking out of a hole. It took two or three "pops" but I was able to grab him and pull him out, struggling all the way. Once out I closed that access forever!

Jamie had run into Ceili's bedroom and she began squealing that he was "all black". Time to bathe the pussy cat! It took the two of us about a half hour to get a hundred years of dust and mold and God knows what off of that puddy. When we were done the tub had a dark brown ring around it. When John Jameson emerged from the bathroom for the second time it was with his new nickname "The Enterprise Kitty" and a great story. It took him about a month to stop hanging out at the plumbing access, I don't know what he did all day under the floor but he must of had a good time!

2009-07-17T08:45:00.006-05:00

It's Friday morning again and It's been quite a week at Casa Verde. Our middle cat Jamie had to be put to sleep on Monday, it was a quick decision in the end, he was blind, nearly deaf and incontinent and down to skin and bones. The vet was amazing, she and the tech were crying along with us as he left us, Jamie will be missed. The little guy taught me so much during his life, lessons about forgiveness, survival and love. He was a cat that came to me starved, abused and sick and with love and patience became the most affectionate and loving of companions. I kept a photo of him on my desk at work for years to help me deal with difficult students, to remind me anything was possible with love and patience, we all should have such legacies.

Three weeks ago my niece Kathy had a motor cycle accident fracturing her skull. She was in and out of the hospital in record time and seemed well on the road to recovery, her biggest problem seemed to be that she was forbidden to ride the damn bike for the foreseeable future. That ended this week, Kathy had to tell us that what had appeared to be blood on the two initial CT scans after the accident were now thought to be brain tumors and oh yes, the fractures were worse than first believed. Wednesday she had two MRIs and has yet to fill us in on the results. She is a big girl with a great husband, Mark. All we can do is pray right now, it is tough to feel so helpless knowing what Kathy and Mark are going through. It was just a year ago Patrick and I were in a similar place in the midst of trying to figure out if I had cancer. It's a tornado for a marriage and I hope they come through it stronger and appreciating each other more as we did.

Last week was the Blackhawks Prospect Camp. It was a banner week for Patrick work wise, he was able to pitch and sell pieces to several papers on their home town boys. He would come home from camp hand me the camera and I would photo edit while he would nap or gather his thoughts to write. Friday I was able to go to camp with him as summer school is closed every Friday. A friend from Rockford that I was looking forward to seeing was missing, it seemed very strange. Then as Patrick and I were about to start an interview of a player from Belfast a text message came through. Our friend Mike had collapsed while interviewing a player the day before and was in a coma in a near buy hospital. Suddenly the interview we had worked so hard to get didn't seem so important . Well, Mike is out of the coma and is awaiting surgery to correct a cardiac problem, by all reports the prognosis seems good although I have heard nothing "official". Still I'm embracing this as good news.

Tomorrow I'm going to take a mental health day, Kim her husband Ron and I are going to a Renaissance fair to play for a day. Patrick not a ren faire lover is going to sleep late and do whatever he wants on his own. For me it's a chance to get away from reality and relax, dear God I'm looking forward to it. There is one more week of school left in my very enjoyable assignment but this year more than most I'm looking forward to vacation .

2009-07-03T07:52:00.003-05:00

It's early on a Friday and I'm putting off going up to the attic to go through all of our Christmas stuff. But this has been om my mind all week and I need to write about it or them so to speak.

We have 5 pets, two stunning crown betas Boris Valbik and Furry who rule the kitchen counter and three cats who have the rest of the house. Jerry Garcia 17 years old, John Jamison 15 years old and Peyton Manning the baby and rodeo clown of the house at 3 years old. All three are rescues,nurtured males and declawed. Peyton, God bless him is a happy go lucky normal healthy cat and we love him to pieces. His Uncles Jamie and Jerry are facing the challenges of their old age head on with a cats passive dignity.

Jerry, has a bad heart, three years ago the vet told me he had a few months to live and he needed to have aggressive IV fluid therapy every few weeks. No, he plays, eats, drinks and poops like a normal cat, so no needles for him. His problem is that he seems to miss the litter box occasionally when he pees. That fluffy tail just won't fit in the box. It is more of an irritation at this point but if it becomes a daily event it WILL end up in a one way trip to the vet.

Jamers, our little old man. A cancer survivor of 4 years this once the fat cat is now skin and bones due to thyroid problems. Still he eats, plays a bit and all you have to do is look at him and he purrs like a jack hammer. His problem is he has chronic diarrhoea. We give him Kayopectate twice a day and it helps but does not take care of it all. His biggest problem is that this week he decided to use the hall closet as a litter box.

I came home at noon on Wednesday and was hit by a smell that could only be described as a large dirty wet dog. By 6:00 pm I had shampooed all the rugs, Jamie and Jerry and finally found the offending matter, the house smelled like it's self again. Like his brother as much as we love Jamie we can't allow him to destroy the house and teach Peyton bad habits. It would be so much easier if they would cross that bridge on their own and we would find them in curled up together in the morning. Somehow I don't think that is going to happen and we are going to have to make a decision soon. Patrick is being a saint about the old guys but we are on the same page here. Sad to say I don't think Jamie, possibly Jerry will see the snow fly, we will have to love them now.

2009-06-29T10:53:00.001-05:00

On 6/14, Saturday, NASA postponed the launch of the Space Shuttle Endeavor. A leak had developed. It was similar to a leak in another shuttle two months earlier. Over the weekend: the space agency rescheduled the launch for Wednesday at 5:40 AM. On Monday afternoon my daughter, C’, her friend RR and I decided to try to see the launch. It was about 1,200 miles, and had to be completed in a hard drive through the early Southern summer.
We left RR’s house at about 5:15 AM on Tuesday (that would be Central Time) the flight was about 23 hours away. Here is a record of some of our observations as recorded to friends through text messaging and FaceBook (FB) postings. It’s a bit of cyber stalking and sharing at the same time. I know it’ll be difficult to follow some of the conversations. RT is Reply to. FB is FaceBook. Mess is a message.
C’ 6/15 2:17 PM: FB Thinking of going somewhere...maybe... Soon I guess. Would not mind company.
RR 6/15 2:22 PM: FB RT C’ I hate being poor as fuck but I would like to join you if possible?
Nate 6/15 3:03 PM: FB RT C’ I am busy soon, but I may be up for something later. Hope you find something cheep to unboardafy you. :)
C’ 6/15 3:12 PM: FB RT C’ Wait RR didn't I just ask you if you wanted to come and you said no, you wanted to be lazy? If we do something latter Nate'll update Facebook.
Nate 6/15 3:13 PM: FB RT C’ K
RR 6/15 3:14 PM: FB RT C’ Noooo okay you said you wanted to do something "right now", but when I read "soon" I thought you meant much later in the day. Plus I have a slight cold and took medicine, which made me super tired even though it's non-drowsy. So like, the idea of getting out of bed right now is like AUGH
Ben 6/15 3:27 PM: FB RT C’ So yes, I'd be up for something as well. As I said, I'm probably going to end up at that crazy comic store again, and if we want to make it into a thing, I'd be alright with that. Of course, I'm not sure anyone else would buy anything...
C’ 6/15 3:35 PM: FB RT C’ I wouldn't... But I do like spending time with you people so I'd be cool with it. Also RR "soon" doesn't mean "much latter in the day." but I guess it’s all kind of beside the point as it looks like we are doing something latter anyway.
PB 6/15 4:14 PM FB RT C’ Is this about the road trip I suggested? Are you being coy about where I suggested we go on purpose? Should I take the extra luggage thing off the top of the van or not?
Nate 6/15 4:24 PM FB RT C’ Oh, now I get the rental car thing.
Pb 6/15 4:24 PM: Tx RT C’ Hey! Did you see my idea for going to Florida? 
C’ 6/15 4:25 PM: RT Pb Yes I did. When did you want to go?
Pb 6/15 4:26 PM: RT C’ Within two days. It’s sort of up to NASA.
C’ 6/15 4:26 PM: RT Pb Yeah! Alright. I’ll go.
Pb 6/15 4:27 PM: RT C’ More drivers would be good. How many friends are really interested?
C’ 6/15 4:30 PM: RT Pb Well I know that two of my friends are already committed t work so they couldn’t come and Father’s Day is coming up… I don’t know.
C’ 6/15 4:39 PM: FB RT Pb No Dad, this is about me going somewhere (else) today. But I guess it works for Florida too. Hey anyone want to go to Florida? Oh, and Nat this trip has nothing what so ever to do with the car rental thing.
RR 6/15 4:40 PM FB RT C’ Why does your dad want you to go to Florida?
C’ 6/15 4:40 PM RT Pb Oh and I guess we should see how much luggage there is first.
C’ 6/15 4:47 PM: FB RT RR Oh it isn't just my dad that wants me to go to Florida. And as for why. Well there is a shuttle launch to watch and oh yeah IT'S FLORIDA! Who doesn't want to go to Florida?
C’ 6/15 6:35 PM: FB Getting ready to go to Florida. Some fun in the sun.
RR 6/15 6:38 PM: FB RT C’ Wait so you are legit going to Florida?
C’ 6/15 7:04 PM: FB RT RR Yes. Want to come? Except your meals I think everything else is paid for.
RR 6/15 7:04 PM FB RT C’ What? Really? When are you going and for how long?
C’ 6/15 7:55 PM: FB RT RR Well... Unfortunately this is very last minuet so... Tomorrow I guess is when we go and we will not be more than a week. If you have something planned we can be back in time for it.
Pb 6/16 5:18 AM: Mess to C’ Hey!
C’ 6/16 5:31 AM: RT Pb Hey. I forgot to ask, are you taking a crappy computer to play DVDs and stuff or not?
Pb 6/16 9:35 AM: Mess to JDR We’re at Crawfordsville, IN. It’s about 212 miles miles south (of Chicago) and north of Indianapolis. C’ is driving and RR is asleep in the back. I just realized we forgot the binoculars. :-p
Pb 6/16 10:46 AM: Mess to Matt C’, a friend of hers and I are in a dash through this weather too Florida to see the space shuttle launch pre-dawn on Wednesday. :-p
Matt 6/16 10:08 AM: RT Pb Cool, man!
JR 6/16 11:24 AM: RT Pb Does she snore?
Pb 6/16 11:25 AM: RT JDR No. And when she wakes up I’m telling her you asked >
JR 6/16 11:25 AM: RT Pb LOL
JR 6/16 11:23 AM: RT Pb Where are you? :_/?
Pb 6/16 11:23 AM: RT JDR Near Louisville, KY. Looks like there is a tie-up entering KY. Must be some cousins fighting. :-O
Pb 6/16 11:41 AM: Mess JDR Most unfortunate name for a hamburger: Whizz’s Whizzburger!:-&
Pb 6/16 11:59 AM: Mess JDR I like this road: Churchill Downs, Kentucky Bourbon Trail:-D
JR 6/16 12:02 PM: RT Pb Very cool! I just made points with the principal
Pb 6/16 1:17 PM: Mess JDR Sign on highway asks: “If you died right now, where would you spend eternity?” I’m thinking it would be Kentucky>
Pb 6/16 1:31 PM: Mess JDR Mammoth Caves. Ninety miles to Nashville.
JR 6/16 1:46 PM: RT Pb You are such a heathen.
Pb 6/16 2:15 PM: Mess JDR Tennessee
Pb 6/16 2:25 PM: Mess JDR They are singing Disney Tunes
Pb 6/16 2:25 PM: RT Pb Where are you? :_/?
Pb 6/16 2:27 PM: RT JDR Tennessee
JR 6/16 2:31 PM: RT Pb I’m at the grocery buying 10 frozen entries and you’re on vacation… I think I got the fuzzy end of the popsicle. LOL
Pb 6/16 2:32 PM: RT JDR :-D
JR 6/16 5:24 PM: RT Pb The rain has stopped here, is it sunny there? Where are you? :_/?
Pb 6/16 6:08 PM: RT JDR 88 degrees. The air conditioning is struggling. RR says you’d know what a garbage tree is? It’s something you eat? :_/?
JR 6/16 6:08 PM: RT Pb No clue :-D
Pb 6/16 6:28 PM: Mess JDR Atlanta, C’ seems to want to drive :->
JR 6/16 6:29 PM: RT Pb Vroomvroom!
Pb 6/16 6:30 PM: RT JDR Yeah? Bare knuckles for me :-O
JR 6/16 6:31 PM: RT Pb You asked for it baby
JR 6/16 6:32 PM: Mess Pb It’s pouring, but no thunder boomers yet
Pb 6/16 6:34 PM: RT JDR The only place it rained on us was in Central Indiana. Real muggy right now.
Pb 6/16 6:54 PM: RT JDR We lost about 45 minutes to traffic in Atlanta. 
JR 6/16 6:56 PM: RT Pb If that is all you have lost you are pretty far ahead. It is really coming down right now…
Pb 6/16 7:17 PM: RT JDR Despite Atlanta we’re averaging 62.2 miles per hour with stops. 
JR 6/16 7:17 PM: RT Pb Little girls have big bladders. Better yet with their high IQs you don’t have to stop for air to pump up their little heads > :-D
Pb 6/16 7:18 PM: RT JDR Yep! We couldn’t keep this pace with you. Too many stops (
JR 6/16 7:19 PM: RT Pb Bastard :-X
RR 6/15 10:43 PM: FB going to Florida with C’ for a week-ish. Very spur of the moment
Erica 6/15 10:51 PM: FB RT RR Spur of the moment trips are the best :)
Pb 6/16 8:06 PM: Mess JDR Okay. We stopped at a Stuckey’s and bought some junk for you :O)
JR 6/16 8:07 PM: RT Pb Noproblemo. Citizen Kane on TV. Popcorn for dinner! Awww, kitsch. You love me! :-X :-X
Pb 6/16 8:41 PM: RT JDR Enjoy. It is sunset here.
JR 6/16 8:44 PM: RT Pb Soggy here
Pb 6/16 9:04 PM: Mess JDR We keep passing this hitchhiker. I think I should pick him up. What do you think? :-O
JR 6/16 9:06 PM: RT Pb I don’t think so, not with my daughter and RR in the car. LOL
JR 6/16 10:08 PM: RT Pb Stay safe travelers, I’m off to bed. Love to you all. :-X
Pb 6/16 10:08 PM: RT JDR Love you :-X
Pb 6/17 12:52 AM: Mess JDR Well we’re in Florida. C’ is driving. The road is detouring and we’re a bit lost. Oh well… It’s a peninsula. Right? :-?
Pb 6/17 1:15 AM: Mess JDR Good job C’. She and RR navigated the detour through Jacksonville without me. There was an accident (in the car). C’ took a turn too fast and the ice chest flipped, spilling water on the Mac and the floor. Water spilt onto the Mac and the floor. The Mac seems to be okay. My feet are wet (that’s what woke me up). I’m not sure what else is down there (there are power cords to the two small fans on the floor). There is a storm to the West and the Atlantic Ocean is a few miles east of us. It is about 1.20 AM and we’re about 90 minutes from the Cape. :-p
NASA 6/17 2:11 AM: News release STS mission postponed till July 11.
Pb 6/17 2:22 AM: Mess JDR We’re passing Daytona. That’s about 20 miles from Tittusville, where we plan to watch the launch. We just want to be there. C’ and RR break the tension by singing YMCA along with the MP3. 
RR 6/17 3:30 PM: FB Updating from C' swank phone. Florida is neat.
Pb 6/17 3:36 AM: 3:30 AM. Mess JDR We’re here. We can see the shuttle across the water. It is such a small town that nothing is open. We sleep (in the car) and wait. 1,291 miles since 4:15 AM yesterday. That’s an average speed of 58 miles per hour :->
Pb 6/17 3:51 AM: Mess JDR This isn’t good. People are leaving the parking lot and discussing July 11. 
Pb 6/17 3:56 AM: Mess JDR NASA updated the web site at 2:11 AM. The launch has been postponed. 
Robin 6/17 4:13 PM: FB RT RR Y r u in Florida?
JDR 6/17 8:29 AM: RT Pb Is there an Atlas launch this week?
Pb 6/17 9:16 AM: RT JDR Yes. There is an Atlas launch tomorrow about 5:30 PM. We’re in Bonita Springs. The house and pool appear to be in good condition. We were so tired leaving the Kennedy Space Center, but we wanted to get too bed! That’s why we didn’t answer your earlier message. I think I’m hungry but I need to relax first :-<
JR 6/17 9:31 AM: RT Pb I figured you were snoozing.
Pb 6/17 9:33 AM: RT JDR Shower, laundry and a small meal. Hopefully a nap. I’m really buzzed because I had to have some coffee to finish the drive.
Matt 6/17 11:46 AM: Mess Pb Launch was scuttled! Where are you?
Pb 6/17 5:51 PM: RT Matt Oh god were we tired! I should copy all the post from the trip to Facebook. We ended up at the beach in Tittusville at 3:30 AM. Twenty minutes later people began leaving the park. I knew that wasn’t good. The launch was scrubbed about 2:10 AM. We were really tired and I was the only one with enough left to drive. We wanted to beat the rush hour in Orlando and Tampa, go to my house in Bonita Springs. We had to keep stopping (on the drive from Tittusville to Bonita Springs) so I could wake up again. We got here (Bonita Springs) about 9 AM. There’s another launch about 5:30 PM of an Atlas. The girls want to go to Orlando (Disney Land). 
C’ 6/17 5:50 PM: FB In florida. Just captured a lizzard.
Vlad 6/17 5:55 PM: FB RT C’ Eat it!
C’ 6/17 6:02 PM: FB RT Vlad Nooo! We want to name it.
Kay 6/17 7:04 PM: FB RT C’ Call it George.
Vlad 6/17 7:40 PM: FB RT C’ Yoshi. Name it Yoshi.
JDR 6/17 7:48 PM: Mess Pb I went to the tea store, got everything but my orange blossom tea.
C’ 6/17 9:44 PM: FB RT Vlad We named him Gar.
Pb 6/17 8:09 PM: Mess JDR This is a most unfortunate business name: Master Bait & Tackle. :o)
JDR 6/17 8:09 PM: RT Pb LOL
Pb 6/17 8:12 PM: Mess JDR We’re at Doc’s Beach House on the Gulf beach, watching the sun set. :-“>
JDR 6/17 8:13 PM: RT Pb I’m photo editing
Pb 6/17 8:44 PM: RT JDR C’ is having the seafood basket (a mix), RR is having grilled chicken (originally I’d texted that it was the grilled cheese). I’m doing the swordfish. Also some crab cakes so RR can try them. :-D
JDR 6/17 9:24 PM: RT Pb RR needs to kick off her wing tips. Or is she keeping kosher?
JDR 6/17 9:43 PM: Mess Pb Heading to the sack!
Pb 6/17 9:44 PM: RT JDR RR and C’ are playing with their DS. Meanwhile one of the locals is showing off her girlfriends. :-O Hey! Love you. Good night. :-X
Pb 6/17 9:57 PM: RT JDR I don’t think they’re natural either. :-O )
Pb 6/17 10:42 PM: RT JDR I asked the waitress on the way out. She said that she didn’t think they were real either and noted that I missed the fact that she wasn’t wearing any undies (so you had a full crack view from the rear too) :-O So a full show, front and back :-O
Pb 6/17 10:45 PM: Mess JDR There’s a big storm over the Gulf. The lightning is amazing. :-/)
Pb 6/17 10:52 PM: Mess JDR I think a swim in the pool before bed?
JDR 6/17 10:55 PM: RT Pb Go for it, love you. Good night. :-X
Kay 6/18 6:05 AM: FB RT C’ Gar looks like a nice lizard!
Pb 6/18 9:30 AM: Mess JDR Did C’ post the pictures of RR and her with the lizard? They were like two kids with their first firefly. 
Pb 6/18 9:33 AM: Mess JDR Lots of storms this morning in the Midwest. Isolated storms here expected late this afternoon. The morning is cloud free. I want to take two or three days to travel north and I want to be home by Wednesday. C’ and RR stayed up late. They didn’t say anything to me about today’s plans.
Pb 6/18 9:36 AM: Mess JDR We took the Boat out for a spin last night. Oh god! That thing is a beast.
C’ 6/18 9:41 AM: FB RT Kay Best lizard ever!
Pb 6/18 10:42 AM: Mess JDR The clamshell (on top of the car) is melting! :-<
JR 6/18 10:43 AM: RT Pb ?
Pb 6/18 11:54 AM: RT JDR The heat is causing the clamshell on top of the car to melt. It is losing it’s ability to stay open because it’s melting. :-O
Pb 6/18 12:33 PM: RT C’ They said it will be an hour (to charge the air conditioning) 
C’ 6/18 12:34 PM: RT Pb Ok. So… Should we wait for you?
Pb 6/18 12:42 PM: RT C’ Umm… Are you going to the beach? Go ahead and go. Take the boat, but remember you’re not insured.  Parking costs about $1 per hour.
C’ 6/18 12:43 PM: RT Pb Is it not illegal to drive uninsured?
Pb 6/18 12:44 PM: RT C’ Yes. Live a little dangerously.
Pb 6/18 12:47 PM: Mess JDR I’m having the A/C recharged (on the car). C’ and RR are headed to the beach. C’ is worried because she isn’t insured (to drive the boat). Also this morning she was offered a job by the NSLS for $10 per hour.
Nate 6/18 1:05 PM FB RT C’ Are you going to keep it? you will have to be careful about the cats.
C’ 6/18 1:20 PM: Mess Pb We are still at the house. You might as well come back for us.
Pb 6/18 1:56 PM: Mess Ron C', 1 of her friends & I tried 2 make t Space Shuttle launch. 1300 miles in ~ 22 hours of driving. We got here w/2 hrs 2 spare. But NASA cancelled t launch. Now 3 of t world's whitest people on earth R @ t beach in FLA>:-)
Pb 6/18 2:27 PM: Mess JDR The hunt for clip-on shades has grown serious. Why don’t truck stops stock my size? :-<
Pb 6/18 2:28 PM: Mess JDR RR’s mom called. Left a message about the Space Shuttle (not launching). I know. I know… 
C’ 6/18 2:44 PM: Mess to Pb We got the tickets but RR is still online. I think we want lunch. Any ideas?
Pb 6/18 2:46 PM: RT JDR RR is searching for the perfect Waffle House restaurant. C’ is counting adult-themed billboards. And today three of the whitest people on Earth are at the beach. :-/)
Pb 6/18 2:46 PM: RT C’ I’ve eaten part of the pizza here. The ice cream place at 8th and Vanderbilt is good. Yelp likes a Table Apart on Bonita Beach. Or just try somewhere. Ask the librarian.
JDR 6/18 3:04 PM: RT Pb Holly says if she was there she would be eating seafood and drinking. Bring her back some “funky honey from your funky honey.”
Pb 6/18 3:07 PM: RT JDR Did you tell Holly about the girl last night? Every time I come here I see lot’s and lots of girl skin :-D
Pb 6/18 3:08 PM: RT JDR I’m afraid to ask, what is funky honey?
C’ 6/18 3:10 PM: RT Pb Now we’re back… So I guess we can talk about it in person.
JDR 6/18 3:35 PM: RT Pb Something unusual, not ordinary honey.
JDR 6/18 3:37 PM: RT Pb Holly wonders if you look like a Canadian flag, all white and red
Pb 6/18 3:38 PM: RT JDR Well I could let my imagination run wild on that choice of words. :-&
C’ 6/18 3:53 PM: FB RT Nate No we let Gar go.
Pb 6/18 4:00 PM: Mess JDR Do you remember our visit to the beach in Goderich the first time? It was night. You were out beyond me. But my boys didn’t like the temperature, so I stayed at upper thigh depth.
JDR 6/18 4:00 PM: RT Pb Yes.
Pb 6/18 4:04 PM: RT JDR You asked what I was doing? I said I was Groking the event. I’m doing it again. It is so cool to share this with you. The sound of the ocean is so loud.  :-X
Pb 6/18 4:07 PM: RT JDR The two girls are about 100 yards down shore. There’s a good wind coming off the Gulf. There’s a light sprinkle here, no lightning. But storms are inland. I’m just really enjoying the moment. 
Nate 6/18 4:10 PM FB RT C’ Okay
Pb 6/18 4:55 PM: Mess JDR Atlas launch in 20 minutes. We’ll (watch) the launch from the beach.
C’ 6/18 4:55 PM: FB Turtle power dude.
Pb 6/18 5:13 PM: Mess JDR So, sitting on the beach in Bonita Springs waiting for a streak against the sky. Lonely and yet connected.
JDR 6/18 5:14 PM: RT Pb I just grabbed a sandwich. They have the worst food here. I wish I could see it.
Pb 6/18 5:22 PM: RT JDR Me too.  Two more launch opportunities in the next 20 minutes. Let’s see what happens.
Pb 6/18 5:27 PM: Mess JDR Thunder. Time to leave the beach.
Pb 6/18 5:33 PM: Mess JDR Well, it may have scrubbed or it may have fired NorthEast. There’s a big thunderhead that way. It could be blocking my line of sight. 
Pb 6/18 6:39 PM: Mess JDR C’ and RR say I was badly burned at the beach: neck and arms; particularly the neck. Any ideas on saving my neck? :-?
JDR: 6/18 6:47 PM: RT Pb Holly says (next) time remember the sunscreen retardo.
Pb 6/18 6:51 PM: RT JDR Thank you Holly. My daughter agrees it was retarded.
JDR 6/18 7:15 PM: RT Pb You are going to be a mess in the morning Booboo.
JDR 6/18 7:22 PM: Mess to Pb Holly is feeling better, she just told me to fuck myself.
Pb 6/18 7:23 PM: RT JDR LOL
JDR 6/18 8:58 PM: FB Somebody went down to Florida and got his red-headed self all sunburned! Wonder who that could be?
Pb 6/19 8:27 AM: RT JDR There’s no pain or discomfort this morning. My face and arms are really red. I think we’re going to the beach again today.
JDR 6/19 8:29 AM: RT Pb Wear a hat and sleeves with sun screens Red.
Pb 6/19 8:31 PM: RT JDR I never took the hat off yesterday. Legs are still white 
Pb 6/19 9:00 AM: RT JDR C’ has a headache from the sun yesterday. Any ideas?
Pb 6/19 11:06 AM: Mess JDR It appears we are spending the day at the bungalow. Disney and Universal cost about $75 each day. :-o( The girls wanted to go jetskiing but realize it’s either/or, not both. I proposed to them that we leave here early to get to the park when it opens. Afternoon storms will start at about the time we want to leave. Then we drive to St. Augustine. We can stay in a hostel there. Drive from there North 
Pb 6/19 11:46 AM: Mess JDR We should start a new game: Where in the USA is Helen?
JDR 6/19 11:49 AM: RT Pb New York?
Pb 6/19 11:56 AM: RT JDR Who knows? ;) The two girls both dressed in sun dresses. I’ll have to take a picture. They are out shopping. I’m home alone :-o) The front of my legs are now showing signs of a burn. It’s weird.
RR 6/19 1:01 PM: FB RT Robin I'm in Florida because C’ asked me to come along. Having no job or responsibilities allows me to disappear for weeks at a time with not a care in the world.
RR 6/19 1:03 PM: FB RT C’ SEA TURTLES! er tortoises.
C’ 6/19 1:12 PM: FB RT RR Watch him crawl away... angry.
C’ 6/19 11:27 AM: FB Bla, why is Disney world so costly?!
Pb 6/19 11:29 AM: FB RT C’ Because there are people like you who will pay for it. Is there a student discount? Just buy the tickets and enjoy it. You'll never be able to enjoy it with RR again. But the memories of this trip will stay with you forever.
C’ 6/19 11:33 AM: FB RT Pb yeah yeah I guess.
Nate 6/19 12:00 PM: FB RT C’ he is right you know
C’ 6/19 12:07 PM: FB RT Nate I know. And I would pay it but the problem is this, the tickets = $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ And I don't think RR is happy about that. I realize that $75 is a very cheep trip to Disney world but yeah...
RR 6/19 1:02 PM: FB is going to Disnery World! (tomorrow.)
Pb 6/19 4:16 PM: Mess C’ I’m going to nap for an hour or so.
Robin 6/19 5:34 PM: FB RT RR YOU BETCH!
Manda 6/19 5:43 PM: FB RT RR AWSUM
Jeff 6/19 5:46 AM FB to RR hey you. i hope you have fun tomorrow/today.
C’ 6/19 9:32 AM: FB Guess whos going to disney world.
Pb 6/20 6:25 AM: Mess Ron I can text while driving 80:-O Arghhhhhhhhh!
Jeff 6/20 6:46 AM: FB to RR Hey you. I hope you have fun tomorrow/today.
Pb 6/20 10:40 AM: Mess C’ Daisy Lot 31
Pb 6/20 10:48 AM: Mess JDR The alarm was set wrong. So we’re an hour late. There’s a heat warning and OH! NO! Wally World is CLOSED! :-O(
JDR 6/20 10:50 AM: RT Pb How about Ringling Brothers Museum that’s inside. It’s art, not circus.
Pb 6/20 10:57 AM: RT JDR Wha? :-?( The second line of the day and we’re not even in the part yet. 
JDR 6/20 10:58 AM: RT Pb So it is open. Stay cool. Wear your hat.
Pb 6/20 11:09 AM: RT JDR I feel like I’m part of some religious experience. You can feel the excitement of the children. A few children are in wheel chairs.
JDR 6/20 11:12 AM: RT Pb Autistic kids are usually fixated on Disney characters and Thomas the Tank Engine… Just put your hands on the mouse ears…
C’ 6/20 11:23 PM: Mess Pb Hey I think we lost you.
Pb 6/20 11:24 AM: RT C’ Yep! That was quick. I’m still near the parade.
C’ 6/20 11:25 AM: RT Pb So are we. I still see you. I’m across the small lake.
Pb 6/20 11:31 AM: Mess JDR God is it hot! C’ is wearing jeans. RR and I are telling her to dump the jeans ASAP. But she is intensely happy. 
JDR 6/20 11:35 am: RT Pb Don't care, two choices, buy sizzers and cut them or procure shorts,skirt or scrubs for her. She will not be able to get the water in fast enough in jeans.
JDR 6/20 11:37 am: RT Pb At the price of Disney world water short probably would be cheaper than keeping booboo hydrated. :-D
JDR 6/20 11:38 am: RT Pb Hydrated in jeans that is...
Pb 6/20 12:01 PM: RT JDR We're trying 2 persuade her 2 get a Grateful Dead skirt. She's afraid it will fall off:-O
JDR 6/20 12:03 PM: RT Pb Do they have a smaller size? The waist a draw string?
Pb 6/20 12:04 PM: RT JDR She's just enjoying t attention
JDR 6/20 12:05 PM: RT Pb She’s beautiful she better get used to it
Pb 6/20 12:22 PM: Mess JDR We're in line, waiting 4 Goofy. :o)
Pb 6/20 12:53 PM: Mess JDR The little prude. 1 of t clerks told her 2 buy a pair of shorts if she's worried ~ it.:-))
Pb 6/20 12:53 PM: Mess JDR They've lost me 4 t 2nd time 2day.
JDR 6/20 12:55 PM: RT Pb Better have a meeting place and time them!
Pb 6/20 1:02 PM: Mess JDR C' found a wrap. I think they R changing now. I need some sox:-(
Pb 6/20 1:30 PM: Mess C’ Where are you?
C’ 6/20 1:32 PM: RT Pb In front of the castle. Well, the statue of Mickey and Disney.
Pb 6/20 1:37 PM: RT C’ Okay
Pb 6/20 1:54 PM: Mess JDR RR just ran off 2 C Buzz Lightyear. Should I run after her or keep my eye on C'?:-((
Pb 6/20 2:47 PM: Mess JDR Children R melting B4 my eyes.;-)
JDR 6/20 2:50 PM: RT Pb The colors are beautiful but what are they?
Pb 6/20 3:05 PM: RT JDR Coffee mugs. Big coffee mugs. If I C them again I'll take a closeup.
Pb 6/20 3:06 PM: Mess JDR Remember finding t princess Haloween costume in t attic? C' is in heaven. Every shop has those costumes. & we're @ t Disney Princess meet site now:-D
JDR 6/20 3:07 PM: Lol
Pb 6/20 3:08 PM: Oh! Oh! I just discovered t complete Disney Princess collectables set:-O
JDR 6/20 3:09 PM: No! We do not have room!
Pb 6/20 3:10 PM: Mess C’ Where are you?
C’ 6/20 3:16 PM: RT Pb I’m in line to see the princesses. Be (back) there soon. Stay there.
Pb 6/20 3:16 PM: RT C’ I want to take pictures.
C’ 6/20 3:18 PM: I’m sorry but we are at the front of the line. Don’t worry there will be at least three photos.
Pb 6/20 4:13 PM: Mess JDR We have finished all our provisions. Weaker members of t troop R falling aside as t dreadful march continues. T heat is intense & children R Bing dragged thru
JDR 6/20 4:15 PM: RT Pb Look for the frozen mouse ears....
Pb 6/20 4:16 PM: Mess JDR this hell on earth, their Ariel & Jasmine costumes falling fm their shoulders. It is inhuman. What alien intelligence runs us thru this mouse maze & 4 what diabolical purpose?
JDR 6/20 4:17 PM: RT Pb Money!
JDR 6/20 4:17 PM: RT Pb Money!
Pb 6/20 4:20 PM: Mess JDR T only thing that would make this even more unreal is if C' & RR had both dressed as Disney Princess':-O
JDR 6/20 4:21 PM: RT Pb It's da heat...
Pb 6/20 4:24 PM: RT JDR No. The woman 2 t rite w/her girl friends sweating & t woman 2 my left who appears 2 B wearing just a um... Not sure what it is but it's revealing. That's t ht
JDR 6/20 4:25 PM: RT Pb The happiest place on earth?
Pb 6/20 4:36 PM: RT JDR Yep:-D
Pb 6/20 4:45 PM: Mess JDR After a few happy seconds trying 2 determine what sort of sea shell Ariel wears 4 a top, we continue thru t list of Disney Princess' to Snow White. Wait is she Royalty?:-/
Pb 6/20 5:03 PM: Mess Ron Okay. We'R in It's a Small World. This better not B another lame Disney ride:-p
Pb 6/20 5:04 PM: Mess Ron I'm already getting an ear worm fm that fuckin' song>:-)
Pb 6/20 5:08 PM: Mess Ron I'll bet there is a correlation between people being exposed 2 this music & t incidence of serial murder:-((
Pb 6/20 5:12 PM: Mess Ron OMG it's a GAY ride!
Pb 6/20 5:14 PM: Mess Ron It's over... NO THERE'S MORE:-O
Pb 6/20 5:16 PM: Mess Ron I'm delusional. T horror... T horror...
Pb 6/20 5:21 PM: Mess Ron my best friend has sent on a drug requiring trip thru t ugly sewer known as It's a Small World @ Disney World. My brain struggles w/t implications of t betrayal
Pb 6/20 5:57 PM: Mess JDR These 2 R having an argument ~ Pinnochio. RR wants an adult version. C' is defending t Disney version.
Ron 6/20 8:06 PM: RT Pb Its a world of laughter, a world of tears. Its a world of homoerotic fears. You can run, you can hide, but we're always inside. Its a small, small world.
C’ 6/20 10:13 PM: FB Most magical day in the sun ever.
JDR 6/20 11:20 PM: Mess Pb Love you
Pb 6/21 12:08 AM: RT JDR Sorry that happened 2 U.:-( I get t feeling I'm partly 2 blame as I'm here, not there. T hostel is a bit rougher than I like. Upper bunk of a dorm rm w/7 other guys. It's hot & stinky already. 2 days & we should B bak. Luv ya':-x
JDR 6/21 12:10 AM: RT Pb Sleep as well as you can, love ya
Pb 6/21 12:19 AM: RT Ron Nooooooo! U bastard!
Pb 6/21 9:07 AM: Mess to C’ I’m up. Let me shower and get human again. Do you need the car key?
C’ 6/21 9:20 AM: RT Pb No I don’t think so. Did you need shampoo?
JDR 6/21 9:39 AM: Mess Pb Happy fathers day! Love you:-x
Pb 6/21 9:48 AM: RT C’ I’m Okay.
C’ 6/21 9:49 AM: RT Pb Good. I’m having pancakes.
RR 6/21 10:25 AM: FB RR is in a Pirate themed hostel. Rawk. Heading home today, but probably back tomorrow night.
C’ 6/21 10:39 AM: RT Pb RR wants to know if we are leaving soon.
Ryan C 6/21 11:38 AM: FB RT RR where is this pirate themed hostel you speak of?
Pb 6/21 12:00 PM: Mess JDR I found my eye shades
Pb 6/21 12:18 PM: Mess JDR T plan is 2 drive 2 a hostel near Asheville, NC 2day. Then home 2morrow.
JDR 6/21 12:20 PM: RT Pb Good morning! That is going to be one long day of driving. How did the night go at the hostel?
Pb 6/21 12:21 PM: Mess C’ RR just went the wrong way.
Pb 6/21 12:23 PM: RT JDR It was better in t lite of day. T other guys said there was someone who snored so loud they had 2 stay in t Common Room last nite, but I slept ok, didn't notice
Ron 6/21 12:24 PM: RT Pb Second verse, unlike the first. I'm Henry the eighth I am Henry the eighth I am I am. I got married to the widow next door, she'd been married seven times...
JDR 6/21 12:25 PM: RT Pb Wonder who it could have been? RR? C’? Not our little flowers.
Pb 6/21 12:27 PM: RT JDR No, someone in t guy dorm
JDR 6/21 12:29 PM: RT Pb Not you....
ARY 6/21 12:43 PM: FB to C’ I am so happy! It sounds like you had a great time. You and RR and your father all look a little "magically" sunburned or maybe just a little rosy from the heat. Have fun. Comeback ready to work.
C’ 6/21 4:42 PM: RT ARY Oh you are just so clever.
Pb 6/21 5:46 PM: Mess JDR SC
Pb 6/21 9:07 PM: Mess JDR Nc:-)
JDR 6/21 9:08 PM: RT Pb Smokey mts?
Pb 6/21 10:21 PM: RT JDR yep. We're @ t hostel.
JDR 6/21 10:22 PM: Mess Pb I' to bed soon, hope the hostel is nice
Pb 6/21 10:22 PM: Mess C’ I take it you two are being anti-social?
C’ 6/21 11:12 PM: RT Pb We sure are.
Pb 6/21 11:13 PM: RT C’ It’s safe now, everyone has left.
C’ 6/21 11:14 PM: RT Pb Oh Okay. Thank you.
Pb 6/22 10:53 AM: Mess JDR heading home. ~ 12 hrs:-)
C’ 6/22 2:24 PM: Mess FB Just passed a bunch of clouds forming a funnel in Tennessee, and its raining a lot.
Pb 6/22 2:18 PM: Mess JDR Ky
JDR 6/22 3:01 PM: Mess Pb Where are you? :-/
Pb 6/22 3:04 PM: RT JDR Ky
Kay 6/22 4:21 PM: FB RT C’ Yikes! Run! Hide!
Nate 6/22 6:01 PM: FB RT C’ That’s probably that storm passed through here two or three days ago. Said he was goin' ta go look for sum action down south. Guess e' found what he was looking for... storm like that... some times you just don't know do'ya???
Pb 6/22 6:30 PM: Mess JDR IN. ~ 5 hrs fm home now.:-)
JDR 6/22 6:59 PM: Mess Pb Where are you? :-/
Pb 6/22 6:58 PM: RT JDR Indianapolis. ~ 180 mi left?
JDR 6/22 8:18 PM: Mess Pb Where are you? :-/
C’ 6/22 8:25 PM: FB RT Nate Ok. So RR and I were talking about this... Are you personifying the storm?
Pb 6/22 8:45 PM: RT JDR We've stopped 4 a dinner break in Lebanon.
JDR 6/22 8:46 PM: RT Pb Have the club....
Pb 6/22 8:47 PM: RT JDR I've been here B4. I'm inside my old territory now.
JDR 6/22 8:47 PM: RT Pb That's scary
Pb 6/22 8:48 PM: RT JDR No. Finally get home soon:-)
JDR 6/22 8:48 PM: RT Pb How long?
JDR 6/22 10:10 PM: Mess Pb I'm trying to wait up but I keep falling asleep. How far or long?
Pb 6/22 10:47 PM: RT JDR Gassing up in Hammond. 4 all practical purposes, we're in Chicago.:-p
C’ 6/22 11:20 PM: I think something is wrong with the facebook on my phone.

C’ took the Which Disney Movie Is Your Life Most Like? quiz and the result is Alice in Wonderland

Often you find yourself daydreaming about what life could be like for you, and sometimes are very negative about the outcome. You have a wild imagination and people love how creative you are. At times your life can seem very complicated and making decisions is difficult for you. Just keep in mind that dreaming about life is not going to make it go anywhere, and you are only going to achieve success if you work for it.
RR 6/23 12:08 AM: FB RT Ryan It was in St. Augustine, FL.
RR 6/23 12:09 AM: FB homehomehomehomehomehomehome
Pb 6/23 12:42 AM: Mess JDR HOME: 3267 mi
Pb 6/23 10:26 AM: Mess JDR I'm going bak 2 bed. TIRED!
JDR 6/23 10:33 AM: RT Pb Poor baby!
JDR 6/26 12:24 PM: Mess Pb Where did you go?
Pb 6/26 12:25 PM: RT JDR I'm finally unloading t car
JDR 6/26 12:26 PM: RT Pb Lol!

2009-06-13T08:27:00.004-05:00

I really have to start back at the hockey blog. Things have been very rough at work with the end of the year and the H1N1 outbreak, yes, I have cases at both of my schools. But what has been most heavily on my mind are friends in crisis, two of which I can talk about here. Rose, a dear friend is undergoing the same sort of work up I faced last summer, plus a kidney biopsy this week. This is one lady who has stood by me personally through tough times and it really hurts to see her go through this. All I could say to her last nigh was that I couldn't tell her everything was going to be alright but we going to be with her all the way. She is a survivor of lung cancer now seven or eight years past, she still smokes. She knows she shouldn't but does anyway. You can't tell Rose anything, it's part of her charm.

Robin is a work colleague. She came to school nursing 8 years ago after 20 years in psych nursing, a perfect background. She is a brash, wise cracking no nonsense type that I get along with instantly. Every summer she organizes professional "vacations" where small groups of nurses go to either South America or China and work in clinics for two weeks then tour the country for another week. Thursday Robin had lung cancer surgery, I think I remember Robin taking cigarette breaks when we would go to meetings 8 years ago. She quit somewhere along the line. Both of us have struggled through various challenges over the last few years together including our diagnoses of diabetes. In general lung cancer isn't a rosy picture, just get better Robin, the would will be a less interesting place without you.

To everyone else, just please stop smoking, NOW.

2009-06-12T07:31:00.001-05:00

Someplace along the line our building has slipped into a full-blown depression. There are four adults living here, Jane, Brian, Kim and I. Brian is still working 35 hours a week as a waiter at Jury's. But I have to assume that he doesn't receive any benefits from that job.

Meanwhile, Kim, his spouse, was laid off. She is in some denial about the whole thing, wondering why she hasn't already found another job. I'm off work, of course, since August and then we come to Jane.

This week I came home from a professional conference to find Jane sitting on the couch in a rather dejected state. I would have thought that the hockey game she was watching had ended badly, but instead I learned that the school system here is thinking of laying off workers who meet her qualifications. That would have left the entire building with no adults working a regular job and receiving benefits.

We need to discuss with the lender what is happening. I'll try to do that today. The last time it was this bad for people around me was in the early 80's during the “Reagan Revolution.” It was a revolution that devalued the labor of people, and didn't recognize that although the society needed to retool after the World War II economic boom, that there would be victims.

Looking around Chicago and places like Danville, Rockford, or anywhere in Michigan, those victims never really recovered. And the political winds blew in such as way that society didn't seem willing to help them move along to better opportunities.

Here we are again. My industry is gone. Kim was in help-wanted advertising. It too is largely gone. Only the two people in personal services, nursing and waiting, are surviving. I'm moving along, thinking of the road ahead and I do not see newspapers as playing a big part of the future. I don't know what Kim is thinking. We are no where near as poor as we were in the 80's or the great recession of the early 70's or the depression of the 30's. But all it takes is a nudge and we could be gone.

At this stage of life, it would mean living poorly the rest of our days.

This week I saw several openings on the net, not the advertised openings, but the openings people talk to others that they want them to meet about. This recession/ depression is turning. I hope it isn't too late for us, our tenants and everyone effected.

2009-05-18T16:31:00.004-05:00

Musing on all things worth a few pennies or moments more....When did I discover Coach leather goods? I needed a small bag for a trip to Dublin in the early 90's very small, but big enough to carry a wallet, inhaler,Dart pass and the ever present Blistex. I found just what I needed at Lord & Taylor on sale for $50.00 the small City Bag, well made and the leather felt like butter. My love affair with Coach had begun. I bought another small bag about a year later this one costing $60.00. Then came divorce, relocation and my lust burned lower, as Coach my Holy Grail of hand bags changed.

Somewhere along the line they started introducing split hides and cloth into the lines. The rich buttery leathers I loved were in the $300.00 plus range and on my budget well, look, lust but well, that ain't a gonna happen. Then a friend Gail introduced me into a concept that changed my entire perspective on if I would ever own another classic Coach bag. Garage sale COACH! This lady then presented me with a classic Station Bag retailing for new at $258.00 that she had found for $5.00 at a garage sale. Did such wonders happen often I asked? My hands grasping at it's slightly worn black leather in awe. Yes, and more often than you would imagine. Well, I then spent a few minutes with saddle soap and shoe polish and the Station Bag looked almost new and it was MINE for pennies.

Yesterday I had a Coach overload, or was it the Coach mother load....Kissane, our friends Ron &Kim and I were at a large community garage sale. Kim knowing of my passion for all things Coach pointed out a bag to me at one address, then another and another. In the end I left the sale with three bags and she with one. I "bagged" a black "Legacy Zip" (size large) Retail $288.00, a brown "City Bag"@ $278.00 and a large brown " tote that is no longer in the line. All three with a little love look great. Kim grabbed a seriously cute small "saddle bag" in hunter green that I think is the prize of the lot. Bravo Kimmy.

Later we were all talking just why these women were selling these great bags that just needed a little love? I think Ron hit it on the head, both Kim and I bought them because we like the old "Classic" Coach of 20 years ago before the cloth and split hides. A Coach bag meant a style that would work, quality construction and materials. Take care of it and it would last well forever, my two little bags at twenty still look new, these three look great and should last another 20, maybe more. Some women can afford new designers or want a new status bag each season, caring little about having something that lasts. So ladies, just keep buying your new looks,clean out those closets and put out those stuffy old Coach leathers. Kim and I will be right there to snap them up.

Oh yes, the total price for all three of my bags, $13.00, go ahead call me a Coach slut, I'll happily take that title!

2009-04-20T08:22:00.000-05:00

There was another success in the effort to reconnect as I found old neighbors, the Larsons. The shock on finding old neighbors is that the image you have of them in your head doesn't match the reality of the years. That may not be true of me, I still live in the same house I've owned for 17 years, and only recently I've begun to move away from the field that I worked in for these two decades.

The children of the Larsons are in and out of college and in once case, have married. These are the same children who created a special hole in the fence in my backyard so that they and my daughter could more easily move from yard to yard. It is an Oh! My! God! Moment. It is at least comparable to the moment at Great America when you round the short bend and see the masses of people who are in line for the 50 second roller coaster ride you've been waiting for.

But this is life and it demonstrates with great power that I'm older, that the world too is older, even if it is imperceptibly changing to me. The growing up with the Larsons story most people will know from me is that annual urban tale of taking Luke and Anna to the South Side Chicago St. Patrick's Day Parade.

I don't want to go through the entire story now. Frankly the story has been told too many times. But in essence, I was the only adult and each of the children, starting with Luke, then Ceili and finally Anna, became separated from me. When I finally found them they were about ten feet from me, but in that crowd I couldn't see that far.

It is a great urban story: fathers aren't as careful as mothers, don't let your children go, etc. And, it is all true, though it ends well. It would have been a better cautionary tale if I'd never found them again. God smiles on fools.

I was thinking that it may have been 1995 when we last saw the Larson family. Jane corrected me, telling me that they visited in the last ten years. In any case, it's been a long time.

Jim, the dad, and Judy, the mom, are in Thailand doing missionary work among the prostitutes. I never met a person like Jim before we were neighbors, and would still be at a loss to point to a person who had the passion for service to others. I think a link to Jim's blog is needed here; my description of Jim's work wouldn't be adequate.

The reason I found them was that there was an old box in the garage. This was put there last summer as we cleaned out the attic. On the theory that you don't own stuff, it owns you, I've been trying to organize my life to erase the clutter that has accumulated. My nephews Dan and Michael brought down three skids of material from the attic to the garage. We are down to about ten boxes as of today, the rest have been sorted and disposed or organized.

Two papers jumped out from the box. The first was a letter from Jim Larson. As I look around the “man cave” I can't find it. It may have served its purpose and now it is lost forever.

I knew that Jim had worked in a church in the ex-urban area of Chicago. I'd thought it was near LaSalle/ Peru, instead it was about 30 miles closer, between LaSalle and Yorkville in Sheridan. With the address in hand I had enough information to start a new search. About 72 hours later and I'm writing my old neighbors again.

It is wonderful that Jim's service to others continues. It is wonderful to hear of it, wonderful and challenging to a person who has lived in the same house for 17 years.

2009-04-09T08:31:00.002-05:00

I'd never believed in the Jerusalem Syndrome. But now I know different. It all started on a tour I took of Hollywood last week called the Dearly Departed Hollywood Tragic Mystery Tour. As we drove through Beverly Hills, our driver discussing the hows and whys of the spectacular Los Angeles deaths in ordinary looking homes I think I suffered a case similar to Jerusalem Syndrome.

You've probably heard of this ailment. It's a mental illness caused by being to close to the holy or something. The always dependable Wikipedia as a great entry on it, but doesn't discuss how it afflicts weak minds, such as mine, when in the orbit of the famous: “The Jerusalem syndrome is a group of mental phenomena involving the presence of either religiously themed obsessive ideas, delusions or other psychosis-like experiences that are triggered by, or lead to, a visit to the city of Jerusalem.”

It hit me outside someone's home. I don't even remember the name of the person. They are still popular and on some hit television show. Their car, a black Lexus, sat in the driveway. As I remember, the home had been the scene of a gruesome crime fifty or more years ago. And of course, we heard about the Black Dahlia.

I sat there looking at the car. Now it wasn't owned by Kevin Bacon, Bacon didn't even appear on the tour, but because I want to get a step closer to Kevin Bacon in degree of separation, let's just say it was Kevin Bacon.

And I sat there on the bus and looked at Bacon's car and his home and I thought just like those crazed fans who have murdered their heroes and idols. I thought about killing Kevin Bacon.

Back in my home in the Midwest, this all appears to be some flight of lunacy, as indeed it was. I was approaching the face of lunacy and looking deep into its eyes. It is lunacy to kill another human being for the pleasure of being known as a killer in the Hollywood media. But, when you're an unemployed blogger who normally writes about minor league hockey, perhaps this is the best you'll get: your shot at the big time.

Now a spectacular crime has to have some strange twists and of course I wouldn't want to be caught. So, being a Hollywood tourist is surely a good cover, provided I can escape that is.

But I figured that one of the best ways to become famous would be to kill the celebrity, that would be Bacon, with one of those plastic knives that TSA makes you take out of your carry on and then the bagel place 30 yards further into the airport gives back to you. The reason for the knives is that it is apparently some sort of sport to kill celebrities in California. I hadn't even realized this before the tour, but you know, it's California. And besides, there are loads of celebrities in California. They even work in the local supermarket bagging your groceries, I think.

“That will show you TSA” I could scream as I slowly sawed the body of Bacon surgically in two with the plastic knives they take away at the security line. Oh, wait, I'd have to drain the body of blood first.

Now you can see that already I may have fouled up my entire crime. First, I'm writing about it on a blog? I mean what the fuck is that all about. Right there Kevin Bacon is safe from me... I'll have to pick another star out. But the crime could be called the TSA murder.

“Police say the murderer wrote “TSA sucks” in the victim's blood on a nearby wall.” Scratch that. That sounds gross, though I like the idea of linking it to the TSA somehow. I've got to figure that angle out.

Second, thinking back about the Black Dahlia, her blood was drained from her body, her body was sexually molested... Oh God! I don't want to DO Kevin Bacon... Dead or alive. Kevin? You are fully released. Now I think as an actor you're okay and everything, but I have no, you know, interest in doing you.

I don't know much about Hollywood celebrities and don't even know who would be a good target now. I mean Paris Hilton? She is a transvestite right? I mean her face is almost plastic. Not interested.

I've never seen Hannah Montana and couldn't pick her out from the hordes of copy-cat girls giggling around her... So, that's no good either.

I guess the sexual thing would have to go. I'd probably need to pick up a guide on Hollywood celebrities to find a target. I'm just not that into celebrities. I'd need one that is old because the younger ones all seem to be in good shape and frankly, I'm not. It's not a good idea to do the sex thing either as it's a sure way for the police to find you. It's the DNA things floating around. I think I read about it in Dick Tracy once.

But I can still use my plastic, TSA-disapproved, knife to saw my victim in two. But first, damn it, I've got to drain all that blood.

I don't know why the blood must be drained, but the murderer of the Black Dahlia did it and they were never found. So, that seems like a good idea to me.

I heard somewhere that the body can function even after losing a lot of blood. I think there is something like eight liters of blood in the body.

Why can't we measure this in good old American units? I mean, why are we jumping to use metric for a body measure? It has to be confusing to be taking personal measurements, such as height, six foot one inch. Weight, 225 pounds. Blood in the body, eight liters. I mean isn't this exactly how NASA screwed up several of its launches, by mixing an American measure with metric?

I was talking to a woman from Australia on the trip to LA and she told me that she lost 20 kilos. I told her that I was glad she didn't put it in stone as I could never figure that measurement out. So, 20 kilos. We're trying to figure out if that is 2.25 k / lbs or is it 2.25 lbs / k?

Thank god I never tried to sell drugs. That's another industry that uses metric and mixes it with American measurement. They talk about kilos of something and then the dollar value. But when you're stoned and stupid and on the street looking for a hit do you really do the computation?

“I've got 2 kilo of wonder drug man.”

“Oh, okay, let's see, 2 k * 2.25 = 4.5” I mean if the drug users of this country can do that type of math then they should be running Wall Street.

What the hell were we talking about? Oh blood. Did you know that Bella Lugosi died in his cape? They should have buried him in it don't you think? Wait, did I get that backwards? Damn you metric system now I'm all confused.

Anyway the body is able to continue to function, according to my research on the History Channel, till it is down to about two LITERS of blood. I figured that waiting for the drain to finish would be a great opportunity, as the villain, to monologue.

Monologues, as described in the superhero flick the Incredibles, is that part of the film or comic book when the villain describes his master plan to the victim. It gives the audience a look at what is at stake if the hero fails. It always occurs at a moment when the hero is in big trouble. They are usually captured and facing some sort of devious plan for their death and torture.

I guess if I was a villain, I wouldn't want to monologue. But, since the victim is slowly dying and I hope that my Boy Scout training has taught me to tie a decent knot, they'd be secure...

So, why not monologue?

This is going to be disappointing, but I think I won't use ropes. First of all, I failed that Boy Scout rope trick thing. Yep, I never got the badge for that skill. Second, those rope burns leave nasty welts on the wrists of the dead. I know, I've heard about it when I pass through a room with CSI on.

A real smart villain would probably watch a lot of CSI because they could probably out think the police that way. I'll bet that if we took CSI off the tube there'd be a lot more solved crimes in this country as the criminals became stupid again and began making mistakes.

Back to the monologue. Why is a monologue so important in action films and comic books? I don't get why the motives of the villain don't come out slowly? Darth Vader didn't say, “hey I'm a bad guy and freedom is going to come to an end under the rule of my emperor and I.”

NO!

He took Princess Leia to Organa and asked her to give him the names of the rebel leadership. When she complied, he destroyed Organa. BOOM! Gone. No stupid monologue, action. Billions dead too.

Now that's a villain. “Comply and I still kill billions.” WOW! And no monologue either.

Can you imagine how it would have occurred if he had been a Silver age villain? Yack, yack, yack till finally the hero struggled free of their wrist manacles or whatever, then they alert all the innocent extras to flee the ship, including and especially the Teamsters as you don't want those guys mad at you when you make a movie, then Vader notices she is gone and flees and THEN the Death Star blows up.

Boring...

As I reflect on this, far from Hollywood, first, I think I'd have problems even with some 80 year old actor. Second, I can't tie a good knot. I'd need to go to the sex store and buy those restraints; don't they have a safety or something? And third, I'm just not that into the celebrity thing. I don't think reading about my murder would be interesting to me.

Anyway, you get the idea. As a potential Hollywood murderer (aren't we all?) I give a big thumbs up to the Dearly Departed Hollywood Tragic Mystery Tour. Please, check you plastic knives before you board the bus.

2009-03-19T20:51:00.005-05:00

The two best images in my mind of the night...

2009-03-17T09:55:00.001-05:00

Good morning and Happy St. Patrick's Day to each of you. I should say, from the get go that if anyone says anything remotely racist to me today, on the order of say, "having some green beer today Paddy?" I plan to rip their liver out and eat it. Just saying...

There are some great pix from the Blackhawk Cup final at the United Center available this morning over at Jane's blog and at the chitowndailynews.org. There is an even better story about how we got those pix.

By now I think there should be a realization that Jane is a damn good sports photographer. She often stays up till 1 AM to edit and submit pictures to you for consideration. Last night, for example, I believe she finished up at 1 AM with the final pix being sent to the paper at 12:30 AM. What isn't realized is that she spent the afternoon in the ER having suffered from an allergic reaction to a medication prescribed for an infection.

As we were sitting there in the ER she was insisting that I call the United Center to be sure they don't pull our press passes for the games that night, "we'll be late... tell them we'll be late." I'm sitting there thinking "sure, we'll be late."

It ends up we were about ten minutes late. She got out of the ER, went home, got her kit and headed to the UC. There were no issues photographing the first game (women's); neither the audience nor the press care about that game. At the start of the second game we had a confrontation with another photographer. I should note that first, the glass at the UC is in terrible condition. However, holes have been cut in it to allow access to the ice by photographers. There are only a limited number of these access points, however. We'd snagged one by shooting the first game.

I was taking care of Jane, getting her water and food. Because she had an IV at the ER she was full of fluid and had to take frequent WC breaks. During one of these breaks I was approached by two agency photographers. They said they were "from the schools" and we'd have to move.

We did move, but had a few words with them. It isn't clear now and it certainly wasn't clear at the UC if we should have been forced to move by people who were not associated with the press or the schools but may have been associated with the athletic association and misrepresented themselves to gain a hole. One of the key reasons we had to move? We weren't "professionals."

By that I think they meant several things. First, of course was a slap at being citizen journalists. The second was that Jane's equipment (two Canon XTi and a Fuji) weren't "professional" level.

The fact is that I'd compare what each of us got at the UC to anything they got. (I looked at the web site for the athletic association. If that is their pix, they are good. But we get as good a shot without access. The picture of the kid in green, the picture of the losing goalie and some of the action shots required patience and an understanding of the game, which we both have. Several were from the stands. It also requires an attitude to fight for our rights, which we did about the hole; which Jane did by coming in after being in the ER.

Those two jerks? They got their professional shots and left sometime before the second intermission. They didn't need to be around for the money shots of the kids in the midst of victory or defeat. I guess, if I had anything to learn from them, it would be that professionals don't care. On to the next gig.

Not to nag, but professionalism isn't about equipment, being paid or having credentials. It is all about attitude.

2009-03-12T18:23:00.001-05:00

powderhornhockey

There it is, proof of life, the first flowers up in the Kissane-Rickard garden. After this long cold winter they are a thing of beauty and a joy to behold.

2009-03-03T22:13:00.000-06:00

I’m live blogging the WTTW presentation “Irish Chicago” which premieres tonight on WTTW-11. The show is starting at the library of the St. Ignatius College Prep. I would have thought that the best placed to start was in one of the historic churches of the Illinois & Michigan Canal. They are some of the oldest Irish related and Catholic churches in the area.

Wait, after a moment we have Ellen Skerrett talking about the I&M canal. Bill Savage? Who?

“Death was omnipresent.” Spare me the tears. These guys weren’t slaves Skerrett, don’t pretend their lives were worse than being slaves. We’re starting down the road of making these guys saints.

OH BOY, the first politician. Let’s show him some difference somehow. Cullerton. How did we skip from the I&M Canal to Cullerton? Oh, his ancient relative was an I&M worker. Some discussion of how the Cullerton’s owned a tavern and also ran the ward. Okay, that’s showing how the Irish abused their power, which could be an ongoing theme of the show.

Skerrett begins to talk about the potato famine. I had to stop the show here and talk to Jane. A few facts that are being glossed over here. First, the 1847 famine was not the first failure of the crop in Ireland. Second, Ireland was exporting food throughout the famine. However the spud was under the control of the local Irish, who were living in conditions of near serfdom. They couldn’t afford and weren’t permitted to eat the food for export to England.

Discussion of the potato famine continues. The migration of the Irish wasn’t particularly to Chicago, but to more established areas and also to Canada and England. No mention of the coffin ships to Canada. Many of the Famine Irish ended up in Canada and then found their way to Chicago.

Jane is making the point that the images they are using here are some of the most disturbing of the period. That other images may present a fairer picture. Although, let me also point out that mass starvation probably can’t be imagined without some awful pictures.

Why is Skerrett being interviewed in a church?

Skerrett is talking about the migration of the Irish to Chicago in the 1840’s. Let’s be clear, the I&M Canal drove the first migration of the Irish to this area. They got their jobs here because they dug the Erie Canal in Western New York first. They were SKILLED canal diggers. The program is purporting that they were unskilled.

Oh well, who cares about facts, let’s move on…

Skerrett is not talking about the Know Nothings. Hello, anyone want to say the words Know Nothings? Next guy, is that Savage?

Okay, there was no money for the churches, so where did the money come from? Skerrett, want to discuss how the Jesuits were not necessarily the group that Irish Catholics might support? Why did they build Holy Family? Between Holy Family and St. Patrick’s, which is the parish that is most closely associated with the Irish? A Gothic Cathedral on 12th Street? I think not. Just forget about that French church (my first draft of this sentence called this church the French whore on 12th Street). Let’s talk only about the St. Patrick’s. It is a Celtic masterpiece. Wasting time dwelling inside Holy Family when St. Patrick’s is the jewel in the crown is a sin.

Okay, wait, after basically saying that the Celtic Art isn’t good enough, Jane’s take on that Holy Family bit, we’re on to a Famine Irish Artist named umm… Crystal Street? Wait, that’s an actual street name. The artist isn’t named. But we know, even though she is doing flowers, that she’s Irish because she says “I’m Irish so I love St. Patrick’s Day.” Oh boy, serve her a green beer.

Megan Williamson. Thank you. Honey, if you’re so damn Irish, where is your identity in your art? How is it expressed through your art? Lot’s of old family pictures, but not much else. Now we’re getting Williamson giving a story about Union organizing. How is this about the Irish? WHAT? The “Irish fighting amongst themselves?” Please, I can name Irish artists who have found their identity through art. This was a terrible choice. Williamson may be nice, but she is so ineffectual about talking about the Irish.

Back to Skerrett. Is she writing this thing? Stockyards. First, she isn’t a historian of the Stockyards and I don’t think purports to be. The Stockyards were mainly a German thing, right? Jewish thing? Now Savage is talking about city planning. Hello, this lack of urban planning that he is discussing was common prior to the use of refrigerated railroads.

Here we go; we’re going to talk about Mrs. O’Leary’s cow. Poor Mrs. O’Leary was demonized. Didn’t she survive the fucking fire? Oh goody, the Chicago City Council cleared her in 1997. I’m so glad.

We’re back to City hall. Foxxy Cullerton, the story told by a descendant who is still at the till. Let’s discuss how the Irish have nearly perfected the art of turning democracy into the art of nepoticism.

Alright, Jane is noting that Cullerton has the date of the big outbreak of influenza wrong. That started in 1918 in Chicago. Hey Jane, he’s a politician, he doesn’t need to keep facts straight or care about things like that. His kids will receive a legacy appointment to some political post.

“Brand naming.” What a nice way to say nepoticism. Thanks. Now I know what to call it when I have no choice at the polls.

Bohola in the St. James Cemetary of the Sag. Where is the loser known and hated as John “Sean” Cleland? They must have asked them to play for free. Gosh, I go out to the cemetery to here Irish musicians all the time. Why aren’t they interviewing Jimmy Keane? Maybe because Jimmy is an immigrant from London? Why not Pat Broders? Maybe he doesn’t meet the criteria of a Famine Irish immigrant? Toor-a-lie-toor-a-lie yadda yadda yadda.

“Underwriting” break. Must be pledge week for shit like this. $60 for the DVD? More “How the Irish saved Civilization” bullshit. But two for $100. Be insufferable and send one to a friend who doesn’t want it.

Okay, we’re back…

Now we’re at St. Xavier with Sr. Sanders? The format is apparently letterbox and it is being broadcast in 5:4 so parts of the broadcast are lost. This is another Famine Irish interview. Back to Aidan Quinn. I hope he’s Famine Irish too.

We’re doing the Peter Finley Dunne stuff. Dunne isn’t a literary giant like James Joyce. Well, take what you’ve got I suppose. About 30 seconds on Dunne and now we’re on to Capt. Francis O’Neill. Now O’Neill really is a giant of music. Let’s see what they do with this segment.

Bad start. We’re at his tomb. Someone named John McLaughlin. What is his expertise in this field? Should be Noel Rice. Okay, here’s Kevin Henry. OMG, Kevin is playing for people on bikes at the cemetery. How lucky of them that he’s out there playing that day. Skerrett should shut up about the music. She is clueless.

WHAT? Now we’re away from the most important Chicago Irish person ever, in about 30 seconds, to talk about the fucking Sox. “The Irish American field of dreams.” This is why Skerrett should stick to talking about parishes and priests.

Who the fuck edited this cluster fuck? STOP talking about the Sox. You spend 30 seconds about the music of Ireland, saved by O’Neill, for the Sox?

Skerrett is talking about St. Pat’s. Jack Wall is talking about St. Pat’s. Some meat here. I see that the artist for Old St. Pat’s used a compass. I’m disappointed. Oh, and Skerrett, the Book of Kells is pretty well established to have been created in England, not Ireland. It is Celtic, not Irish.

The photography here is terrible. Finally a picture of one of the stained glass windows. “Nothing like it in Ireland.” Oh? Does that include Church of Ireland too? I think that is a provably false statement and shows a disdain by Skerrett for the identity of non-Roman Irish Christians. Let’s say for a moment that this outrageous statement is true, why is it that Chicago produced this masterpiece of spirituality?

Dear Ms. Skerrett, I will take you to places in Ireland where there is a deep Celtic art expressed in a spiritual venue.

Now, Skerrett is proposing that the church EMPOWERED women by allowing nuns to run institutions. Hello? What type of bullshit is this? Sister of Mercy? Were they the one’s who showed concern about your twitching as you lay on the floor from their beating?

The seeds of racial tension were sowed in the workplace? If you grew up in my parish, one the West Side, Skerrett, you’d know it had a home in the church. Hmmn, I’m realizing that we skipped over the post Civil War period, if not the whole Civil War. I guess the IRB and other Republican organizations that were here, the Irish dead in the Civil War, they shouldn’t be missed. As one Irish person told me, “you Americans have no culture.”

A too brief discussion of Studs Lonnigan.

Now a discussion of Second City. Is Second City associated with the Irish? I’m a bit lost. What is happening? We’re on to the best Irish pub in Chicago, Chief O’Neill’s. Is that the connection? I’m still lost here. Jim O’Malley gives a poor me story about how if his grandmother had held on to some patent he’d be rich. Okay, so what? This segment from Studs Lonnigan to the break is terrible.

Break time. Let’s have a drink.

Whoa… we’re back.

Bridget is second to Patrick in the pantheon of Irish saints? Well, that’s a bit of opinion. Oh wait, we’re back into shaking down subscribers.

St. Clement’s. In this program there is a fascination with the church and its relation to the Irish in Chicago. Can we discuss how the church attempted to erase the ethnic differences between people, refusing to recognize ethnic identity and needs?

I think we’ll call this segment, the erasure of the Irish identity by the church and politicians. The Irish women are the strong ones. I actually like this woman starting the next segment. She actually knows what she is talking about. There is a matriarchal aspect to the community. Would the program like to explain why a group of farmers in a misogynistic culture would put women in control? Perhaps it was something about the American identity or culture?

Morgan Park is the most Irish neighborhood of Chicago? Wait, they’re in Beverly? What about Mount Greenwood? This is very confusing.

OMG, they’re putting Pat Roche out there. Mark Howard looks old. Thirty seconds for Roche. About the same as for O’Neill. This is poor editing. Roche getting 30 seconds is about right. Why not more O’Neill?

Now some West Side Irish. Nice, the worst part of being a cop is “having to live in the city.” Doggie, doggie, doggie, just leave, we won’t miss you.

We’re onto to the St. Patrick’s Day parade. The original parades were neighborhood events. Why was that destroyed? Mayor Daley. “By putting the parade in the center of the city you assert the central identity of the city,” or something like that. Okay, let’s be clear, Daley killed the neighborhood parades because he wanted control of the thing. That destroyed the essential Irishness of the parades. They became things of unions and politicians, not of the community. They moved from being an expression of the culture to being an expression of the Power of the Daley family.

Now they are creating the myth of St. Richard the Daley. He was a devotee of Robert Moses. He used the creation of highways, federal urban renewal money and public housing to make the city one of the most segregated cities in the US. He destroyed the cultural roots of the Irish and anyone else who he didn’t like.

Now they are skipping over the Hamburg Club, which they mentioned earlier. Daley was a member of a gang. GANG MEMBER.

Another pol. Everyone is so deferential to him. Tunney. An alderman. How is Tunney expressing his Irish identity? Working hard? Yep, and do you know why? Because everyone else is a bunch of lazy no goods. Especially the gays. Whoops, he’s gay!

Okay, if this wasn’t so poorly done, it would actually be comical.

Savage, “every Irish home had three pictures, Jesus, JFK and the Pope.” Heard of any Jewish Irish people there Savage? You’re talking about politics, should know that there was a Jewish mayor in Dublin. Not to mention that a lot of Irish are not Catholic.

Back to Mark Howard. Mark could you discuss why these are the best girl dancers? What happens when one isn’t quite a good enough dancer, but still loves it? What happens to her? What happens to their hair? Is it natural for little Irish girls to have curls and red hair, because the girls in the class in your basement don’t have either?

He looks injured. He isn’t moving. What is up? Oh wait, he is moving. But he is moving slowly.

Break time. Time for a drink!

Gaelic Park. They start talking about the GAA creating Gaelic Park. This is the second Gaelic Park, the first on the near West Side. WOW 50 acres? I didn’t know that!

It’s nice to see people at Gaelic Park on the Board who have been there so long. I know, new blood, but also continuity.

John Devitt in Palos Hills. More nonsense about how great the Irish are. A missed opportunity here to talk to his children who he identifies as Irish. How do they express that Irish identity? That’s the big failure of this program. No attempt to have people express how are they Irish. Why allow these people to say they are so much better than others because they are Irish? Good god! Rich bullshit.

Now we’re back to Williamson, the artist in Wicker Park. Now a cut to the cops who wish they lived elsewhere. Now to the North Side Irish Center. Nearly 35,000 items in the library, 34,000 of which are Ireland by Leon Uris.

WAIT! The Commitments. HA! But they denied their Irish identity. They finally expressed their identity by being rejected and finding success. They miss one of the great local artists, Michael Flattley. He could provide some insight on being Irish and also a local. He could discuss how he used his identity to find success. Did they try to talk to him? I know he is hard to talk too.

Stupid St. Patrick’s Day stuff. The South Side parade is the only true Irish parade I’ve ever seen in the city. Some father’s started it? Really? I thought children started it? Could be another myth. Let’s see if the program discusses how the community uses the parade to organize house parties and so on. This is the real strength of the South Side parade.

Nope. I guess they don’t know about that.

Ouch! Too many stereotypes. Savage is trying to wrap it up. The program could have been a history of the Irish in Chicago or it could be a program about the Irish identity in Chicago. It tried to do both and fucked up. PASS ON THIS TRASH.

2009-03-01T07:35:00.001-06:00

I'm back, trying to write to now 50,000 hopefully by the end of March. Of course, I have a head start of about 18K words from January.

The first challenge was to write 30K words by the end of January. I made it to 18.6K words and stopped about a week short of the end of January realizing that I had made a mistake somewhere. The “hero” of my story had done something that was easily explained. I had to go find the error and explain why everything had happened.

By the time I'm ready to show people the copy, this won't happen at 18.6K but somewhere else, probably in the low 20K area.

So I added a thousand words today, as well as leaving a snarky comment about the death of the Rocky Mountain News on the media blog.

I'm getting sleepy. The morning started, as it often does when I write, by waking in the pre-dawn with an idea rattling around that demanded to be put into words. So, I'm short sleep and still need to write another blog entry. Uggh!

2009-02-27T18:28:00.000-06:00

Today has been one of those long days of meetings. Fortunately for me the worst I was simply able to do all the prep work then wiggle out of the final cotillion . But I’m ahead of myself, one of my schools Brown had an assault and battery to one of it’s staff last week. The teacher had a student attempt to strangle her, lovely. The student involved lives in a group home for what can loosely be described as “troubled” youths. Throw aways, juvenile delinquents, troubled kids from the most difficult situations and if they can possibly control them selves for 6 hours (with or without medication) they are in our schools. Right next to your kids thanks to Supreme Court decision Corey H, and the “Least Restrictive Environment”.

Corey H is a great example of the best of intentions gone so very wrong in practical application. The law was meant to keep handicapped students out of segregated schools and “mainstream” them into classrooms where they belonged with a few modifications. This improved education for everyone, handicapped students learned from sitting side by side with non handicapped students. Likewise students in wheelchairs, vents and other differences blossomed in regular classrooms. However in other situations the law has it’s problems. Students with emotional and psychiatric problems are placed in classrooms with average students despite documented histories of violence and other severe problems. Think about it how would you feel as a teacher to have a class room of 30 students possibly one or two which may or may not explode into anger and attack you or one of their classmates at any time. This is a reality in schools all over the country, without you knowing it your child may be sitting next to one of these time bombs as was the case at my school. It begs the question that in protecting the rights of the few students what about the rights of the other students in the class? Do they not have a right to a safe and productive learning environment? Did that teacher not have a right to a modicum of protection from a student? At my school we now have a classroom full of children who have witnessed the attempted strangulation of their teacher and a student body in shock. School is no longer a safe place for these children. Like the students at Columbine High school their classroom rather than a place of excitement and learning has become a place of trauma for them.

Violence in the work place is an increasing problem, both my husband and I have been assaulted at work. It changes you and how you look at your work environment. I know I will never look at a parent or student with the same cool eye I did before the day that parent attacked me for calling an ambulance for a child that was suffering a seizure. Patrick was assaulted by a contractor of another business that shared warehouse space where he was working at the time. His pursuit of the offender through the legal system seems to of given him far more closure than my weeks “assault leave” and sweep under the rug by my employer.

Maybe it was this assault of a colleague and spending most of the day yesterday on difficult cases involving students with “violence problems”. But as I left for work this morning I had two thoughts, sometimes the least restrictive environment is an alternative school, Corey H be damned. And there sure as hell had better be a couple of fingers of scotch waiting for me at at home tonight.

2009-02-12T20:11:00.000-06:00

I'm not the best at keeping up on the computer and with blogging, but like to contribute.
The kid is getting in shape and running 4 days a week on top of learning about numbers mixed with letters and symbols that form expressions and equations. It is a review and reliving of old glory days of sports wellness, all to return as a better player on the ice. He is also learning about the environment and what is to become of our natural world if things do not change. Tomorrow he will hopefully be lucky enough to skate on the home ice of the Chicago Blackhawks, get a tour of the locker room, press box, and watch the game in St. Louis on the JUMBOTRON at the United Center. The Roadwatch Party starts at 6:30. Arrival time now depends on when a friend will get off work. Go Blackhawks Go and Let's Go Wolves!

2009-02-01T16:17:00.004-06:00

Powderhornhockey
This weekend we celebrated my cousin Dave's Bar Mitzvah probably the best reason this heathen can think of for a family reunion. David did very well being called before the Torah and the family both the Christian and Jewish portions had a grand time celebrating David's transitioning into adulthood in his path with God. The ceremony was all the more meaningful as Dave was diagnosed with autism five years ago. It felt like a miracle seeing a young man who was speechless such a short time ago speaking in Hebrew. Molotov!

This was one of yesterdays readings if you went temple, I'd like to share it with you.

"Oh God, may whenever we become complacent, faltering in our efforts to build a world of peace.
Let the nations know and understand that justice and right are better than conquest;
May all come to see that it is not by might nor by power but by Your spirit that life prevails."

From Shaolon-T'filah

2009-01-24T10:16:00.001-06:00

Larry is a street person living here in Chicago. His thing was to steal newspapers and resell them at “L” stops. He was on crack, he had eyes as big as Jamie's, which is to say he had orphan-Annie eyes. Whatever reality Larry was living in, I didn't want to share it and yet, there he was, living in my newspaper warehouse.

He'd been invited into the warehouse by the ever trusting Al Martin. You know the logic: he's a newspaper thief, he's on crack, he'll steal everything he can to sell for more crack. Let's give him a key to the warehouse? That's how he ended up in the Paulina newspaper warehouse. Paulina was a hole. Actually there was a hole in the roof. During rain storms, the water from the roof, about the size of a football field, poured through this hole. We survived by moving the newspapers away from the hole. But that's another story.

So, along with the huge rat colony in this warehouse, they made donuts in there by the way, we enjoyed the company of Larry. He showed up, broke the door lock and we couldn't get rid of him.

I'm told that there is some sort of mental disorder that causes people to decide to spread their feces. I can tell you from having had it done to a WC I wanted to use, that it creates a mark of territory. Sort of like some animal marking its territory: you do not want to deal with it.

So Larry did that to us at the Paulina warehouse, the men's room became his room. There are no words I can use to describe the sight and smell of human feces spread all over a wall. We abandoned the building (it was torn down and condos replaced it.) and moved to newer digs on Fullerton. We thought we'd left Larry and his feces wall behind, the agreement being that no one was to tell Larry where we'd moved.

We were not even done celebrating when Larry showed up at the new digs. Al denies to this day that he told Larry where we moved.

Now at this time, we hadn't yet connected Larry to the feces on the wall. As you can imagine, we had another, more colorful name for this... phenomenon. But, within a short period, the new men's room sported the same colorful stain.

It began to connect when I donned a haz-mat set of clothes (they were thrown away after this incident) and cleaned what the cleaning crew ignored. Then I faced down Larry and Al. I believe I had some moral authority, after cleaning up this situation. When I was finished, Al just looked hurt. Larry, who I threatened to arrest if he ever returned, he left. And, bingo, no more feces on the wall.

So, I was considering this long ago situation as I cleaned up after Jane's cats. She is ill this week. And the cat's welcomed me to their world by doing a Larry in the litter box. No greater love have a man for a woman than to clean up after her cats.

2009-01-20T18:11:00.011-06:00

I’ll take advantage of a few quiet minutes to write. I have never really tried to put on paper why have I been so angered by the last eight years under the Bush/Cheney regime. They have eroded our civil rights, spit on the constitution and have reached out and touched my family deeply.

Most of the family knows I am a pacifist and have been so since the age of 12, I took a vow of pacifism shortly after Bobby Kennedy was killed, the Vietnam war was turning our country and dinner table into a war zone. Part of this commitment was to not stand for the pledge or the national anthem. It was never a problem in Catholic schools, in fact the Brothers of the Holy Cross libertarian theologists they were encouraged it. I saw it as an extension of the idea that there is no authority to hold higher than God, yes I will serve my country, but ultimately I serve God. Over the years I have been questioned as to my beliefs stared at, insulted and 8 years ago at one school forced to stand in a closet with a Jehovah's Witness when swimming against the pledge current. On those days the rules of prayer in school were thoroughly broken I can tell you. For the moments when those around are reciting a pledge or singing The Star Spangled Banner make for a grand time to pray for a president, supreme court, soldiers, medics and peacekeepers in war zones over the world.Yes, it was illegal for that principal to order us into that closet, but as a new employee I did it to protect my job and paycheck.

Anyway, during the Bush/Cheney regime things began to change, one night in the Allstate arena a man sitting behind us became particularly verbal at my not standing. Security removed him and nothing was said. The next game I thought I felt something hit me, I looked behind me later and saw a crumpled cup. That was the night Patrick spoke to me asking me to stand, for all of our protection. He was reasonable, loving and protective. So I stand at parade rest, head down and pray. I feel violated, I feel shame, the same shame that I feel when I think of men being held in kennels in Guantanamo, The shame of having had a Attorney General describe the Geneva Convention as “quaint and out of date”. The shame of knowing my government has approved of kidnapping torture and war crimes. The same things my Lt. Col. Father taught me my country would never take part in simply because we were America. The Geneva Convention was what kept my Uncle Bud safe in Stalag 2 during WWII. George Bush and Dick Cheney you have much to answer for in what you called the defense of liberty.

Then there is Patrick, made redundant in a dying industry. He is faced with reinventing himself and looking for work at a time when frankly MBAs are a dime a dozen and the unemployment rate climbs daily. It was the administrations looking to please special interests, bailing out big business at the cost of the shrinking middle class that has brought disaster to many of us. Yes, there are those that grasped the shiny quarters dangled by the banks of houses and cars far more expensive than they could afford, ironically they are the ones that seem to be getting the govenrnmet accommodations on mortgages. Those of us that are living within our means, struggling to save for rainier days that seem to be left out in the cold. It was George Bush living in his upside down privileged world that produced this insanity.

If what you have done to me and my husband isn't enough there is our daughter. Ceili is going to pay and pay for this God damn war in Iraq this mistake of a war when you should have been paying attention to Afghanistan. We can probably forget the possibility of extending free public education into community colleges. Universal health care, dream on. Ceili and her entire generation is going to pay for your mistakes along with her aging parents as we work into our 70's to replenish our 401Ks. Now we have to worry about an economic system that seems to have collapsed just as my parents have described it happening in “the crash”. Consider my Mom at 92, who has seen her savings melt, the product of a life of playing by the rules and voting Republican have given her. The worried sound in her voice is something I have a very hard time letting go.

Mr Bush, as you board your helicopter tonight and head home for Crawford, I hope you are happy with what you have wrought.

2009-01-19T09:05:00.004-06:00

Powderhornhockey
As a bit of a welcome to Michael Patrick I have a piece of art for him, a goalies helmet that he commented on the other week.

So here it is Robert Gherson's helmet:

2009-01-19T08:08:00.001-06:00

Jane has been chaperoning me around the city. The van, as pictured, is deep in snow. It's sort of like the annual rite of resurrection. For the past several winters, I've allowed it to get buried in, then as it thaws it comes out of the white shroud and miraculously roars back to life.

Monday morning and the sky is that winter blue that says it is going to be bitter cold outside. Jane has the day off for Rev. King. We'll probably try to slip off to the Conservatory for her mid-winter sanity break. Later, we need to find the fireworks. After eight long years, the nightmare comes to an end tomorrow.

When this guy started in office, he didn't frighten me. Granted his election was a stain on the history of the country, there was such an uproar, that I figured he wouldn't be able to be an effective leader. During the summer of 2001 he became irrelevant. Then the madmen attacked the West. That was when he used the power of the military to kidnap people, slip them away into the dark, torture them. People in this country who should have known better, including our useless Congressman, now the White House Chief of Staff, were frightened of challenging him.

He developed software to listen to our calls, he developed laws to strip our rights. At one point, as Jane was doing one of her protest things at a public event, I explained that the country had slipped. “One of the goof balls around you will hassle you, maybe physically assault you” because of your political views. She was really depending on me to defend her and I pointed out that first, I'd do it automatically, but that I was older and would be hurt. And second, political speech was under attack. The police would send my ass to jail for protecting her. The guy who attacked us would be considered a hero.

If he hadn't overplayed his hand, attacking a country for weak political reasons and with a poorly thought out plan of exit this might have continued. People would have gone along and felt protected and safe while freedom was whisked away to be beaten and tortured in the dark corners of this country and the globe. The excuse would have been that it was only happening to “bad” people.

His inability to connect to people, his creation of a bubble of reality, his lack of awareness all seemed to come home to roost in August, 2005 when his political appointment of Michael Brown and his dismantling of FEMA led to a failure of the system when Katrina hit the Gulf Coast. No, we were not attacked by a foreign power. A hurricane demonstrated that the country had wasted nearly five years and billions. It was that wind that finally knocked down his house. What safety was there in this administration? We could survive a tropical storm and still die, waiting for it to answer the phone.

That he pursued economic policies that were doomed was evident early in his administration. Enron should have been a wake-up call that platitudes about market self regulation are just that. Enron happened early in this administration, and he could have blamed it on the Clinton's and been justified.

But, despite Enron, he pursued economic policies meant to dismantle market regulation throughout the economy. The final wake-up call for all but a minority of the country has been having their jobs threatened, their values of their homes and investments crash.

So, we'll celebrate tonight. And hope and pray for something better: a resurrection of the American spirit.

2009-01-18T14:04:00.002-06:00

It's official. I am now a blogger. "Hockey Never Left Chicago, But It Definitly Has Returned." The Chicago Blackhawks are back with their best team in decades. This could very well be their year. They have the potential of a Championship team, but still have a lot to show. It's great to see the fans back and the games on tv. Thanks to the Chicago Wolves, the words 'winning' and 'hockey team' go hand in hand for the Windy City. This blogger is inspired to strap on the skates and suit up every weekend for Rat Hockey sessions late in the evening. It feels great to be a part of something that was lost for many years, but now is found. Monday January 26 I will enter the Allstate Arena-the host of another one of my favorite teams; the first team I ever saw live (Feb. 1997) in the league of Rock & Roll-METALLICA!

2009-01-17T10:17:00.004-06:00

The 30/30 project is back on track, after I spun my wheels for a few days wondering where the story was going, it made a huge leap forward and is on target for 30K words by the end of the month.

Meanwhile, outside the cold is continuing to freeze the city. Nice Pix of the bike I discussed in another post for everyone to consider. There's a good wind outside today and more snow expected. How deep do you think it will get on that bike?

2009-01-14T15:07:00.002-06:00

A bit of sadness here. One of our favorite rock bands had a HUGE blowout fight last night. I'm talking of course about PSYCHO NEIGHBOR. I'm not sure they have the FaceBook page up yet, but these guys are terrific.

Anyway, last night, one of the two female vocalists was shown the door by two other members of the band. Right in the middle of a gig too! I mean, what are the chances of that happening? Kim, who is known to smash up furniture and is just a generally destructive rocker in the image of the WHO, was threatening the vocal abilities of the young lead, Mel in the last month as the band expanded beyond its traditional list of cover tunes.

Now I don't know the whereabouts of Adam, the percussionist, but apparently there was an on-stage argument about missing the beat and artistic license. It didn't end well for Kim, always a favorite of mine and, I believe, one of the key forces for the creation of the band too. As Brian, the strong silent type guitarist, went along with Mel. There were tears of rage and all that rock stuff. More as I get word of what really happened.

2009-01-14T15:05:00.000-06:00

HA! I just noticed that Jane changed the opening picture! I had to study it for a moment to realize what it was. Here's a clue, look at the traffic layout.

2009-01-14T14:42:00.008-06:00

We have hit the week of cold. Right now, with the sun shining, I'm certain it is below zero (or for those of you using the Celsius scale, -19), with a howling wind. I can see the snow blowing off my neighbor's roof and into our yard.

Our yard, which Jane and I describe as the nicest rooms in the apartment, are snowed in. They are still the most beautiful rooms in the apartment. Brian left his bicycle locked to a post in the yard and when I last looked, about two minutes ago, the snow was as deep as the hubs. It is an irritant when I'm out there with the new electric snow shovel. But it is a strange thing of beauty from my normal vantage point, behind the curtain wall on the porch.

There can be no doubt, either, that the curtain wall is worth every penny spent.

My car, the 2000 Silhouette van, is also snowed in, caught up to the hubs in the snow. I put a luggage hauler on it to pick my brother up, that was two weeks ago. Together, with the snow, I can see the van and it's huge block of snow tower into the sky above the other cars.

Ceili returns to school next Tuesday. I'm continuing to progress on my 30/30 challenge. Though there hasn't been much traction in the last few days.

Ceili and I used the excuse of the terrible weather to undertake yet another tradition of the winter. We usually associate it with January, rather than Christmas, but the whole thing is about renewal of the spirit, of how death is conquered and sacrifices made for the greater good. So, we traipsed off, in the bitter cold yesterday, to take on the Chicago Transit Authority and the Botanical Garden.

The Chicago Conservatory was designed by Jens Jenson, the famed architect and opened 101 years ago. For as many years as we've lived in Chicago it has been the center of at least one winter trip. You arrive in a frozen world of snow and ice. The breath floating about in whispers. Inside, you remove your coat and take in the green warmth and humidity.

What a great break from winter.

In the past two or perhaps three visits I've come to appreciate a significant difference between the way Ceili perceives the world and the way I do. I'll be staring at the iron work, watching the light spill through the leaves and onto the water. I'll notice how from a certain spot Jenson allowed you to see across an entire room, to take in the water, the trees and how the skylights provide a grey background. You forget where you are, it is transcendent.

Ceili will point at something, sometimes literally under my nose, and expound on that little thing. A flower or a stem. She'll wander under a canopy and see a single flower dangle there, above our heads. She is more into the details, while I'm taking in the forest.

I force myself to try to appreciate the world as she sees it. Wow, it is really different. This visit is a reminder to me of the wonder of having raised this person. Here is a fundamental area of difference between us. She sees details and I take in the depth. Ying and Yang.

Yesterday, as we entered the new four elements display, she took out a sketch pad to draw something she saw. I sat down and allowed the visit to wash over me. I refer to it as gorking the moment. I just want to undertake to allow my senses to take everything in, without attempting to filter them or categorize them, so that later I can try to recreate the moment when I write.
As adults we lose some of the perspective of wonder. This is one of the moments in the year when I force myself to adopt another's view or to simply abandon that adult perspective. This is truly a thing of great wonder. Jenson was a genius.

So, I watched as an older man, holding the brim of his baseball hat, wandered through. He looked surprised and in a hurry. He wasn't sure what the two of us were doing, sitting a few feet apart, and actually out of sight of each other, but he didn't want to intrude. Some mothers were playing in a play area just around the corner, with their children. They were discussing insurance of all things. I don't think they ever even realized we were there listening.

The light from a pond, something about the size of what we've discussed putting into the backyard, shown up from beneath the surface. The streaks were sharply delineated and formed a rough cross while the light itself broke through the surface to underlite a huge leaf. There were smells of wet clean dirt from the mist, sounds of water falling from somewhere. The rock below moved a bit. It wasn't bolted down. Eventually I turned away from the children and the water and concentrated on a relatively blank cement wall. The paint was peeling and some vines were reaching for it. Of course, once Ceili showed up, she immediately noticed something that had eluded me, a single plant had flowered on this concrete object.

“It's wet,” she said. I asked her if it was sweet. She tasted the pollen and said it was very sweet.

Then I laughed and said it was poisonous too.

And in those moments, the ending for the 30/30 hit me. It will be sad, not triumphant. First clue to what is a sports story.

I need to figure a way to put a pond in the yard. It is a tight fit, but Ceili loves Koi, loves to draw them and I think she needs that to “own” the yard. I think, too, that I need it. I think having this thing around could be something that allows me to draw on my creativity too. I think I'll encourage spiders to live there too. There is something about seeing the silk catch the light that intrigues me.

2009-01-10T15:23:00.002-06:00

Well the research is probably done of the Xti, we are just waiting for the final report from the factory. After a series of emails with the tech department they sent me a "we need to talk to you instead note." After talking to one woman who insisted I needed to talk to sales I told her "no I was going to ask very specific questions regarding processor and shutter life retaliating to the 40 and 50D. Then she gave me to Kevin in tech support who listened to my sad tale of the Xti and how I used it. He took a deep breath and said. "60 games a year, 600-800 shots a game, 2 1/2 years?, basically Jane, you took a little mule out to do a job you needed a Clydesdale for"." Jane, you got a consumer camera and used it as a professional, you really took 12-1800 images a week some weeks?."

So I have two choices, bite the bullet and get the 50D or buy a new Xti or 20D and just plan on it dying every 2 years. Looks like I'm going to start saving my pennies for the 50D. Have to admit it I rather liked the "little mule" comment. The goal is to have the new baby in my hand for Blackhawks rookie camp next July-that's a lot of loose change, but I think the peanut butter sandwiches will be worth it in the end.

2009-01-09T11:02:00.001-06:00

Last month my editor at the ChiTownDailyNews had talked to me about some exercises to break writers block. A simple one that I used immediately was to sit and start writing without editing for a set period. I was to write as fast as possible and not to look back at typos or grammar errors.

I tried that exercise and the result was first, the computer ate the running consciousness piece (it is gone forever) and second I started writing the series of articles about Sam Zell's shrinking ice berg. I really felt it was a good series and I'm sorry it wasn't given greater attention by my own publication or the public.

The other exercise he suggested was that a writer take on a 30/30 task. That is, to write 30,000 words in 30 days-- on one subject. That's a thousand words a day. I guess like most people who write, I have an idea for something in my head. And I decided to pursue it.

So, now, nine days into the new year, my resolution was to write 30/30, or actually, because January has 31 days, 31/31. After nine days, I'm at 12.6K. I took yesterday off due to a migraine. But, even with that, I'm more than a third past my goal.

Jane says she wanted to be in it, although she has no idea what I'm writing about yet. I guess I should have told her that my first non-fiction short was racy? The story is developing and I'm excited. The main characters are in place and the first story line has been developed (there are several that I'm weaving together.) I don't know when it will be ready for review, but I am real excited. This exercise is working. The computer is storing this great story.

I've often told Jane that a good editor makes your work even better. And a bad editor destroys your work. Geoff helped me past the writers block and into a new field of writing: fiction. And he did it with a few words of patience and encouragement. All of my blogging has picked up speed. I'd say he's a damn good editor.

2009-01-01T17:41:00.002-06:00

New Year's Day here in Chicago. The Hawks v Wings game today was sort of the centerpiece of the day with Kim and Ron C stopping over with their ferrets. Jane and I published a real nice series of articles about the game on the chitowndailynews. Unfortunately, we weren't able to sell the article.

Geoff, picked it up at the chitown, but we were hoping for more.

I'm going to try to write 31K words in January on a single subject. That's an average of about 1K words a day. I'm making the numbers so far, I hope I have something good when it's all done.

And finally, I used my old hockey blog, Sit Down and Shut Up, to live blog the Winter Classic today. So, lot's of writing today and for the next 30 days.

2008-12-30T08:53:00.005-06:00

Patrick tells me I'm obsessing again(he's probably right), my primary camera, a Canon XTi is sick. It is still partially working, on sport and the other auto settings but the usual custom settings I use for hockey and walking around, well no. The shutter snaps then takes about 15 seconds to close, not good.

It is hard to describe my relationship to this tool . As a musician my instruments are something I have a personal relationship with. A camera is different, it is an extension of your eye, yet one that can be upgraded and improved upon. Something to be protected and cared for to be sure but not the same level of identification and relationship that a musician has with their instrument. Ask a photog what they shoot they will tell you what they have and what they are lusting after. A musician probably will never do this, once the find their instrument they stick with it often for a lifetime. A musical instrument is an extension of the musician's soul. As a photographer we reach into a bag and pull out one of several tools to show the world how we see the moment, a means to an end to convey a vision. It's simply different.

Before Christmas I spoke to Pablo a friend at work and a self described "wedding photographer" , he has helped me for the last 2 years by critiquing my work. I told him my sad tale and he called Brian his boss, they had two suggestions, first get a Nikon( Ha!), second take it to Calumet for an estimate and possible work. So I took the 8 gig chip out and Pat took her in to the shop for an estimate as a Christmas gift. Their estimate is well, alarming $40.00-500.00. WHAT? The decision was made to send it to the factory for a second opinion and if not a cheap fix to limp on on auto and use Pat's XTi body for the rest of the season.

What happened to the Canon? I started doing some research and emailing fellow photogs.

Kris was the first to respond, one of the reasons I like working with her taking hockey photos is that she is a nurse too, nurses don't like mysteries. After I explained the problem I was having with my XTi she had some insight since she shoots the same model. Did I know the processor (brain) of our model poops out after 50K shots? When I read that did some quick math, realized I was very close to that number and the air in the room turned blue "after school vocabulary". Then the research into an upgrade turned serious.

Another photog with the Icehogs, Greg is willing to let me fondle his Canon 40D it looks like a good candidate to replace the Xti both cost and feature wise. However, you had better believe I'm going to know how many images that processor will handle before I commit hard earned cash. The 40D shutter will handle 100,000 cycles what about the processor? Since I will be saving for a few months to buy the this body the answers will be there and we will be comfortable with the purchase.

These days I'm not the intense photog I was last season. There is a charm hanging from my camera that was a fund raiser from the ovarian cancer folks. It reminds me of the challenges we faced this fall and of the husband and friends I have waiting in 105. The result is I'm taking 300-400 photos now rather than 600-800 last year, send me to journalism hell, don't care. So whatever I'm shooting it will last longer with fewer shots taken at each game. Life is good, there is a new toy in the future and lots of research and saving ahead. If there is one thing I've learned in life it's that the harder you work for things the more you appreciate them.

So I'll be watching the sale adds, saving like crazy and hopefully by next season there will be an new Canon in my life.

2008-12-29T11:51:00.003-06:00

My sister, Winnie, was asking about our holiday traditions. It gave me some pause. I guess the things we consider traditions on Cullom are things we just naturally do, but particularly at this time of the year. There aren't any Advent calendars here.

For many years we had a dinner at the Berghoff. After it closed to the public, we did some dinners in the house. But these always seemed to be forced events. We've had some great dinners this year, unplanned but great feasts.

What I think we did that was different, though, was readings. This year we read Damon Runyon's “Little Miss Marker.” Jane said it was turned into a movie starring Shirley Temple. I seem to remember that too.

In previous holidays we've read from James Joyce Dubliners, “The Dead” is a great holiday piece with a lot of depth, as you'd expect from Joyce. The Dickens novel “A Christmas Carol” was popular around here for many years. It is also a time of the year when people have a lot of time off. We've done film marathons around the house.

Jane loves the hockey movies, “Youngblood,” “Slap Shot,” “Mystery, Alaska.” So we did that a few years ago. We added several movies to that group, “The Rocket,” “Slap Shot 3,” this year and “The Chiefs” last year.

Looking through this hockey stuff, it appears the only movie we don't have is Strange Brew. Gift idea?

Myself, I've always enjoyed adventure. Michael Pallin has done a number of series including “Around the World,” “Pole to Pole,” "Full Circle" and his new series on the Europe. These were great to watch over the holidays that included some time in the hospital.

There are more of his adventures on line, too, that we haven't seen. This much better stuff than Rick Steves. And, of course, dropping another hint for a gift idea.

There was also the great Michael Apted “Up” series. When the new Up is released, we bring ourselves up to speed on the various members of our generation who we've followed. And, then we discuss whether we are most like Tony or Susan...

As I think about it more, there was also the "Father Ted" year. I'm sure Jane and Ceili will remember other things we watched or read too.
This season Jane and I purchased the “Irish R.M.” series. We've finished about half the series already. If you're not familiar with it, it is the story of the final years of the Hiberno-English Aristocracy, before the first World War ended that style of life.

In any case, this goes all the way back through my marriage with Anna. Between reading to each other and settling in for a winter night to catch up on our films, we've managed to fill many long winters through the years.

2008-12-24T05:24:00.002-06:00

I can never figure out whether the animals can talk to you on the midnight between the 23rd and the 24th or the midnight between the 24th and the 25th. Anyway, I missed the first date, I was sacked out. Another headache struck. There have been a string of them this fall.

I hope you enjoy our oak tree. It is the second year we've used it. We have an artificial tree. The tradition here was to decorate it until it fell over. Little did I realize I was dealing with the queen of tree decorating. Jane's December decorating turned into these forced marches. We had to finish the bloody tree. The fun of Christmas turned into I am tired and don't want to deal with it anymore as we tried to put up my numerous decorations, Jane's, her mom's, her aunts, her 3rd cousin (once removed).

I'm sorry, I know the Danielson's are reading this too. But it was way over blown. It was the result of all the decorations for several generations, on both sides, coming home to roost.

We'll return to a traditional tree again. But not this year.

I described this to my sister-in-law Sallie Z. as our conceptual tree. I think you see what I mean. It's just some slats that are crudely put together with the lights. I like it. It is perfect for a small city apartment. In addition, I think it reminded us of what was important about this holiday.

The storm that has been battering the US all week finally seems to be passing us. There's about a foot of snow in the yard. The electric snow shovel I purchased at the start of the season has died, already. A new one is sitting in the living room to take its place (perhaps I should wrap it?)

I called cousins in Ireland earlier in the week. Susan S. told me it was mild, with temperatures about eight C. I told her I'd trade her straight up, her eight C for our eight F. LOL. Sunday and Monday were about the worst of the storm. We've been hiding in the apartment. It got so bad, we had to make a food run on Wednesday, as the fridge and freezer were empty. With the holiday, Ceili coming in and more weather possible, that was a problem. So BIG food run on Wednesday.

On Monday Jane and I met at Wrigleyville with the manager of one of the rooftops to shoot pictures before the game next week. If you don't know what game, come back here next week.

It was one of the glorious winter days when there is NO cloud cover. The sky was bright blue and the shadows were sharp on the ground. Of course it was also seriously cold. We had to climb some scaffolding on their bleachers to shoot the best shot. From up there, about five stories up, the wind whipped across Wrigley Field. I was able to get the shots, but it was tough conditions. We'll put a skyline shot here when Jane has a moment.

We really need this story published somewhere besides the ChiTownDailyNews, so keep your fingers crossed. (It will be in the CTDN too). The fact is we're having problems with the kids who are running the PR departments at the Bhawks and the Wolves too. They've never worked professionally before, have no idea how stories are sold, and like to say NO. The result is our blogs are suffering, our readers are suffering and we're getting pissed off. Having some published material should help change things next season.

Still another contact with a long lost. Jim G. and Jenneine R. wrote a real nice card to us. I've missed them. It was a friendship that sort of suffered about the time Jane moved to Chicago. There were so many friendships from that time that have suffered. Writing to Jim and Jenneine, I described one aspect of what has changed as the elephant in the living room. It is one of the bad karma things that should have gone well that turned into a negative instead and now everyone becomes defensive discussing it. Hopefully there will be more friends coming forward and more elephants identified. This is one elephant I wouldn't mind killing.

I'm still looking for my college friend (I'm going to break one of the rules of the blog and put his full name here in hopes he Googles himself. Maybe he can find me?) Robert E Foster of the US Army Corp of Engineers, Eastern Illinois University and Cedar Lake, IN. (Those tags should help him find this easier).

Honest to god, I'm about to give up on this guy. He moved to Connecticut, married and disappeared. Bob, if you read this, leave a comment with your contact information. I approve all the comments, so it won't be read by your enemies, or whatever. LOL. We need to catch up. Jack and I have some great whiskey and stories for you. (I believe Jack has some great cigars too. LOL).

That would be a great Christmas gift. Preferably this year, but next year is okay too.

The strange new act of Googling your own name is humorous and disturbing too. When I do it a person in New York comes up who embroiders vestments for the clergy. And, he is well known in that area. Amazing. Jane's love of embroidering and my name. My pen name (Patrick Kissane) is basically owned by me, so that is pretty cool. But, I've got to work out the Lou Grant stuff. I don't want Lou around anymore. We're discussing how to let him go, you know, lay him off. LOL Another victim of the downturn in newspapers.

Oh Shakespeare, how would you deal with multiple personalities and identities today?

Anyway, Jane and I hope everyone reading is well. We wish you a Merry Christmas, unless you're in Ireland. Then we wish you a Happy Christmas. As well, a healthy, prosperous and happy New Year.

2008-12-24T04:38:00.001-06:00

Merry Christmas!

2008-12-17T08:36:00.004-06:00

We are still in the house of plague generously given to me by some cute little moppet from one of my schools- well it happens every couple of years. I'm just sorry I passed this humdinger of a virus on to Patrick.

Despite my still being down with a UTI and on my second antibiotic I'm out of sick time and was back to work Monday. I look pretty sad and make more than a few rushed trips to the ladies room but Friday's coming and with it Winter Break so it will be OK. We have a close friend who is handling a much bigger health issue an that is helping me keep this in perspective.

This morning our block experienced a random act of kindness and senseless act of beauty that I had to share.

It was 3:00 and I was making a trip t the bathroom and checking if it was still snowing. Lets be truthful here,with Arne Duncan moving to Washington there were hopes it would still be coming down and for a snow day, sort of a parting gift. What I found instead was that my car had been thoroughly brushed off. I thanked Patrick, he must have done it, car bushed off? OK looked again, Brian's was bushed off too, maybe he did it. Will have to thank him in the morning. At 6:00am in the morning light you could see what had happened on the block, Someone or a group of people had gone down the street had brushed off the residents cars as an early gift for all of us. It had to be resident of the block as the cars parked by the shop on the corner still had pristine coats of snow on them.

On a day when I had expected to start work with a whopper of a backache from shoveling and brushing I was out and on my way in seconds. All thanks to an unknown good Samaritan, Thank you whoever you are.

On a snowy Wednesday morning in Chicago,life is good.

2008-12-14T07:51:00.006-06:00

Well, here we go again. A second cold this winter. Thanks Jane.

As the red head and I hunker down, again, for a sneezing, blowing, watery eye, dry lipped Sunday, I thought it might be nice to put together a sort of holiday letter to family or about family. I've never, ever done one of these things, so watch out.

The job hunt has changed directions. It would be a fool's errand to try to put together anything in the private sector at the moment. Besides which, the years of work seem unappreciated by the former employer. Going back to the drawing board makes some sense.

It is the one continuing worry here. Thankfully we are financially secure with unemployment, but that won't last forever. At some point in the process, before the Oregon trip, I discussed with Tim M of the Econ department at my undergrad school the idea of teaching workshops on the subject of creating business plans.

As I have time, I'll update the Linkedin profile so that it represents the new interest and discusses why this is a good idea for me. Tim explained that there was an even better idea, namely that four year colleges often hire people like me to teach courses as adjunct professors.

I can already hear those people who remember me from St. Peter Canisius saying “hey professor.” Yep, that was my nickname back when. I don't remember what caused that. I think it was an interest in science that was killed by a high school teacher. Shame on her.

It turns out there is a very small market for independent people writing business plans. That work usually is performed by a company's lawyers or accountants. However the inquiry did discover there was an interest among colleges in people who have business world experience, in working with undergrads. After lots of work with the grad school and the undergrad school, I began putting out resumes last week.

Things continued to melt down in the state this week. The arrest of his royal hindness on Monday being an obvious sign. It is hard to see how the State of Illinois can cleanup its act. Normal people are saying thank god for the US Attorney. The Governor's crimes have been known for years.

Why don't we just vote him out of office? I suppose that in retrospect, Judy Baar Topinka was the better candidate two years ago. I really don't remember how I voted. I suspect I voted for Topinka, but can't remember.

The GOP has simply disappeared locally. Congressman Rahm Emanuel, who is becoming the White House Chief of Staff, had a Republican opponent. But the man was handily defeated.

That's unusual. Blagojevich is a typical response to the dominance of the Democratic Party. He would be far more comfortable as a Republican. But, how can you get elected as a Republican? This isn't to say that all Republican's are crooked, but to say that his policies were more in line with the GOP, BTW.

So, the Democratic Party has people who really have Republican world views locally. (Fast Eddie Vrdolyak is another good example). How to get the party healthy enough to run under its own banner?

The scandal is causing all the rats to scurry for cover. Hopefully people will remember the scandal in two years and begin electing new blood. Look, Daley, Stroger, Lipinski, Madigan, Blagojevich (and Mell), Jackson. All of these current political family names willed their political power to their offspring. This is a terrible situation for democracy. Each of those names, BTW, Democratic.

I wanted to put some more pix up from the Oregon trip. They are on a slide show on the kitchen screens. I just love the pictures of Ceili, Ceili and Kaitlin together. Working with our friends Mike and Nancy, Jane got their slide show together a few weeks ago, it led to our finally getting our slide show together too.

All these great photos from years back are coming up. At one time Ceili took one of our first digital cameras out and shot pictures throughout the neighborhood. Lots of things I've never noticed.

Of course, I noted how much Ceili has grown into a beautiful woman. Adam, our neighbors son, is now in high school. Danny turned into a little jerk and thankfully moved away.

Between Anna's initial push and Jane's final push, the rear yard has been transformed. I'll take some credit for the hard scape ideas, thank you. There are great shots of our egg “hunts.” The old siding, the peeling yellow paint on the garage...

From time to time I meet Kim as she heads out to work in the morning. I kid her that the men in the building are thankful that the women are supporting them. I know it irritates Kim. And I love her for that. Brian reminded me that he moved into the building ten years ago October. I was digging through the garage, throwing out old papers and found his initial application for the apartment.

He's become a friend. His son and now his step-daughter, have grown here. And it has been wonderful.

While Kim has been freaked out that there are only two payrolls paying for everything. I think Brian and I, who both went through divorces while living here, have been through worse. Things will be okay.

Finally, no Florida trip for us this year. The story of why we have a house in Florida needn't be discussed here. For the first time in about five or six years we decided to use the place, and it won't work out. So, Christmas in Chicago again. Yea!

Our last visit there we managed to take in a night launch. Ate some great seafood... Our plans this time? Take in a launch and eat some great seafood. Progressive huh?

2008-12-09T07:54:00.004-06:00

Give Patrick the power over the food processor......Last weekend we had a gathering of friends at our house. Nothing very formal, just chili before a hockey game with a group of Rockford fans. OK, maybe they are more than fans, several times we had to acknowledge "Three Chicks Hockey Photography" . For these are the women who form the group of photogs that are our eyes and ears in Rockford that make coverage at a distance possible. Kris is a fellow nurse and damn good photog, Kelly is a Pre K teacher and constantly surprises me with what she can get out of her equipment. I'm well aware of what a sacrifice these ladies are making, so the News can have improved coverage. It is not easy uploading a few hundred photos after a game at 11:00 at night when you have to get up at 6:00 for your bill paying day job. I've been doing it for two years now, it's still tough. These ladies are dedicated to hockey and their teams and art.

Patrick did a great job he prepared the Cincinnati 5-way chili set the table and served dinner with style, I was impressed. Especially as I was virtually no help on the day of the party. My assistance had been limited to giving the house a good clean and emailing directions to guests as Ceili and I had a had booked massages weeks ahead before the party was planned. Ladies now that is the way to entertain, walk in to a clean house, guests content and the smells of a great dinner greeting you from the kitchen. All after an hour long massage.

Several hours later we waved good by to our guests, Patrick decided to give the game a miss in favor of a book, the tired lad. So I went on the the game without him, surprisingly the Wolves won breaking a loosing streak against the toughest team in the devision. It was a very good night, I think Pat can keep the power of the food processor.

2008-11-19T06:52:00.000-06:00

November 19-- New film by people who brought us Once

The people who brought us “Once” are out with a new film, Eden. I’ve seen the trailers. Okay, I’m hooked on Irish film; I want to see it. Once was an outstanding independent film that I hope everyone had the chance to see. Unfortunately, no screening dates for Chicago yet. Here’s the website.

2008-11-19T05:45:00.000-06:00

November 19-- Looking toward Thanksgiving

The end of the fall, the cool weather. It all adds up to time to put away the outdoor furniture. What a terrific summer and fall we’ve had. The redesign of the yard has brought both families into the space and into contact with increased frequency. Guests, even those who are visiting on either side, are enjoying the yard. It has been a win/win for everyone.

Jane has said the garden is a work in progress, a way to embrace life with hope of seeing how things will turn out. I’m delighted in the rear area work. It is really great. The front area, as I wrote some days ago, still needs some work.

And we need to continue to clear out the “stuff” in our lives. There have been a lot of things that happened this past year. I think we can enter next week with a clear head about what we’re most thankful for. Still more projects to deal with, but I’m really happy with what has happened to us this year. And while the yard is just a symbol of that renewal, it is an important and visible sign of success.

2008-11-15T07:55:00.013-06:00

The new tree is a joy, a thing of beauty and I look forward to it's bursting into leaf next spring. The best part the new arrival is that it came on a perfect day for us to celebrate it's planting. You see yesterday was "Report Card Pick Up" at one of my schools which means my hours were changed to 11:00-5:00 to allow for a day long parent meetings. This meant both of us were home to see the arrival, planting and clean up of our new tree and resident of the yard that we hope will shade the street for the next 100+ years.

The day started pretty quietly enough, Patrick had been up for a while when I woke at and suggested we go out for a breakfast. We found ourselves at a local bagel and coffee place and drank coffee and enjoyed a lazy week day morning together. Patrick wanted to stop by the Ward Office on the way home and decided to walk, so I drove home ahead. As I pulled up two big guys were digging the hole where the tree was to be planted. At this point I started bouncing around the car, we were not expecting the tree until next spring earliest, next summer most likely.

In my very poor Spanish I found out that yes the tree would be there in a few minutes and was going to be an Elm! I got on the cell phone to Patrick and shared the good news, a few minutes later he arrived to see the project underway.

The supervisor (holding clipboard) said it was a pleasure to have excited home owners around when a tree was planted. Most of the time they are the owners are at work or take the trees for granted.

As God as my witness this is the "dirt" the city dug up when they made the hole for the tree. The supervisor brought in topsoil for the new kid on the block. Good thing too, I was having visions of the tree screaming as it hit the "soil" that was there before. It will be much happier in the good stuff that was wrapped around it's roots.

Photos by Powderhornhockey, all rights reserved
About five minutes after the guys left the clean up van arrived. He did such a great job I wanted to have him hose down the upstairs bath before I went to work!

2008-11-14T22:33:00.001-06:00

November 14-- New hope arrives in an unusual form

It’s always time to play catch-up with posts. There’s been something going around. I caught it while at my nieces wedding in Oregon three weeks ago. It, and the drugs I’ve been taking to deal with it, have messed up my sleeping, made me forget appointments and been a drag to deal with.

But, it seems to be at the end of its run now. And good news, the City of Chicago installed the tree we ordered early in the summer for our parkway. The tree is a type of elm. The Dutch Elm Disease was responsible for the death and destruction of many of these trees over the years, so that a generation of children does not know the joy of playing under an elm tree in the heat of summer.

It seems hard to remember why we named towns and streets after elms. They have disappeared from our lives. We were able to order the tree through a program with the city. Unlike the standard city program, which provides the next available tree, this program, which is also free, allows you to name the type of tree to plant.

We choose an Accolade Elm. We actually received a Pioneer or Patriot Elm. (There is a difference. I’ll correct this later). Looking on-line, there doesn’t seem to be any pictures of elms that aren’t protected by law. Well imagine a tree growing to 50’ to 60’ in height. The limbs start about 8’ above the ground and grow in a vase or V shape into the sky. The leaves look like arrowheads, about 2” or so. They have serrated edges and are not exactly symmetrical. And the bark can have a texture all its own. That’s an elm.

The planting makes clear that an early garden plan I had for the parkway needs serious work. The city planted the tree off-center, so that there is a space for another large plant, if we want, to its east. Still, at this point in the year, with the winter coming in, we have new hope in our parkway. And that is good.

(As I was writing this, I looked up elms in wikipedia. Now the old tree was a sugar maple. It was a magnificent tree that stood taller than our three-story frame three-flat. I’m guessing that was about 70’. Looking at photos of maples, I see the round bottom and a pointed top. I never really noticed a pointed top on our tree; it was just a round beauty. The new tree should have a definite V shape to it.

The wood from the maple has been stored in a woodpile in the yard. I’m hoping to use it for an art project. In the meantime, it makes for great firewood. The wood has a wonderful sweet smell and burns slowly.

It is also interesting to see that the elm, like the oak, is venerable. It was the Liberty Tree, the Treaty Tree and the Washington Elm. Cool.)

2008-11-12T08:40:00.003-06:00

A friend has started on a journey, Brian has changed his major from pre-pharmacy to nursing. God bless him he doesn't know what is ahead of him, the joys, the very hard work and above all digging deep within yourself and confronting mortality and some very difficult things. What I found most difficult as a nursing student was the knowledge that as a nurse if we made a mistake or didn't catch another professionals a patient could suffer or die.

It is said that every doctor and nurse has a grave yard that they walk through alone at night. Maryanne who I have written about previously helped me navigate mine as a student and a baby nurse. Her guidance kept this neophyte going when I almost left the profession early on in my career not yet knowing that nursing sadly, is a profession that often eats it's young.

Anyway kid, it's payback time. I know you can sense this Maryanne, you were there for me time and time again, with the endless care plans, demanding profs and navigating floor politics. Should Brian reach out, he has an ear and a tutor, thanks.

2008-11-04T22:14:00.002-06:00

Never have I been prouder to take one for the team,. My perfect record of voting for losers is intact and Barrack Obama is going to be our next president.

You know what, when I thought of our Ceili and the possibility Pailin choosing a seat or two for the Supreme Court, it wasn't hard at all.

2008-10-25T08:13:00.012-05:00

October 25-- Here’s a new Chet story…

Chet G. is a friend from Colorado. He’s the guy I’ve been trying to get old girl friends interested in for years. Lucky for them, they all back away. He’s just a wild man. He’s attractive and absolutely untamable.

I won’t even begin to discuss the mess that is Chet’s house, brought about when an RTD bus slid out of control one icy morning three years ago. His house interior and exterior resembles a crazy cat lady place, only he’s a guy and only owns one cat.

While in Denver last week, I noted a new local beverage, Stranahan’s Colorado Whiskey. Chet raved about it and I went out to Applejack’s to pick a bottle up, thinking of dropping it at Chet’s and not bringing it home.

This is a three-year-old whiskey with a bit of fire in it. It’s a blue collar or working man’s whiskey. But it comes at the price of single malts in the 12 – 16 year range. I’ll keep it around for the crazy story of how Chet and I ended up inside the distillery at midnight, not for the taste.

I’ve told many of my friends how Chet and I would sometimes just head out into the mountains, camping just off of public roads, or opening a fence and throwing our sleeping bags down on someone’s private land without permission. Chet’s continued to do this stuff, heading down to Mexico and Central America to sleep on the beach, taking breakfast in the open market. It’s a Bohemian lifestyle that is romantic and possibly nuts.

Tuesday, after meeting up with the war game geeks I knew when I lived in Colorado, and feeling run-down by the cold that had hit me in the West, I met Chet at McCormick’s. He was looking for late night fun and I was interested in going to bed. About 11:30 PM we decided that my last adventure in Denver would be a tour of the Stranahan’s distillery. We didn’t know the hours of the tours, and decided that since it was just a few blocks away, we’d just drive over and look at the door.

McCormick’s is on one side of Coors Field, and Stranahan’s is about the same easy walking distance on the other side. Still, with all the new streets and work in Denver since I left, 22 years ago, I was glad to be driving. Too, it was starting to snow!

Stranahan’s is located in an area of small warehouses, just off of Broadway, about ½ mile from Coors Field and about 1 ½ mile from downtown. As we drove up we could see several people inside the warehouse. The door said we needed an appointment to take a tour, and tomorrow, being my last day the hopes, if they were strict, seemed long.

So, Chet says, let’s ask if we can get in now. Okay. But in my experience the answer is usually no. But, what the hell, nothing ventured…

The still master, Rob, said sure, we could have a tour right then and there. Rob signed my bottle of Stranahan’s and then gave us a personal tour of the facility. I’m really delighted. Not only was this a real behind the scenes tour, it happened at midnight. I cannot imagine this happening in many places.

Chet, as usual, took great pride in his ability to talk his way into a memorable situation, and he chided me for not doing it myself. (Excuse me!).

The next morning we received an official tour. There were just three of us on the official tour, which covered pretty much the same ground as the midnight tour. The pictures below are of Boyd L., a native of Belfast currently living in Southern California. He purchased a bottle of the single cask whiskey sold by the distillery. I promised to make these available to him.

Cheers Boyd.

2008-10-25T07:08:00.003-05:00

October 25-- Mystery of Bridget

I’m still trying to catch-up on the trip West for the wedding of my niece, Cathy. I’ve been hoping to post this one for days, it is a picture of the 1’ x 1’ x 1” Indiana limestone tile I carved for Cathy in honor of her wedding to Mike B.

Limestone is a very soft rock, so much so that before it is sealed there is considerable dust apparent. It weathers and wears over time. Here in Chicago it was used as a stepper for schools and homes. Over the years the pounding of children’s feet have made grooves in the thick blocks used for steps. It is so cool to walk past a school and see the grooves made (left and right) of the feet of generations of children.

Locally I’ve been rescuing the stone from building that are about to be demolished, when I have the chance. There’s lovely carvings in some buildings, though they are sold to collectors. I usually pick-up a window sill or a door sill. The garden has several hundred pounds of stones littered about, waiting to be worked.

I learned the work from Eadhmonn Ua Cuinn at the Augusta Heritage Center and later polished (that’s a stone carving joke) the technique working with Laura Travis of AS202.

The design followed a discussion with Cathy’s mom, Winnie. Winnie had told me that Cathy had a deep Christian faith and was also proud of her Irish heritage. Thankfully, this was an area I had looked into previously. I talked to some friends who also identified themselves as Christian about an idea for representing the cross and the Trinity on the stone. They said that shouldn’t upset anyone. I think they were shocked that I proposed carving the stone myself.

I guess I was apprehensive about this as my own Christian faith is considered “out there.”

So, the initial idea was three tiles, a fish, much like you see on those car bumperstickers, a Bridget’s cross and a Triskel. The first tile was to be the Bridget’s cross.

Bridget the saint shares a history with a mythical person, a Celtic goddess. It is difficult to separate the two. I have doubt whether Bridget actually existed. But the spirit of Bridget is important. In Christian lore, she was a key evangelist in Ireland, bringing Christianity to the island. According to the lore, she prepared crosses like the one that is pictured, out of reeds, to hand to the people.

People still make them and use them in homes. Our home has several, above doorways of the home and the bedrooms.

In addition, she prepared three legged crosses that demonstrated the idea of the Trinity to the rural Irish. Patrick is better known for plucking three-leafed shamrocks to demonstrate the same idea. But this cross is a symbol of Irish Christianity that is not associated with drunkenness and green beer.

The Triskel in the center came about as I completed the legs. The initial plan was to continue to build the legs of the cross inward. However, it was clear that the space could be used for the Triskel too. That would break from tradition and make a unique interpretation of the Bridget's cross.

Triskel’s have existed long before there was a Christian faith. I would assign them to the LaTene period of Celtic art. Correct me if I’m mistaken. However, they have taken on the symbolism of the Trinity since the dawn of Celtic Christianity. So that was a nice way to finish the piece off.

The piece, which I call the Mystery of Bridget, weighes about 20 pounds and is unsigned. There isn’t an up or down on the piece, although I perceive one of the edges as being down. The photo was taken before the rock was sealed. The sealant was Butcher’s Boston Polish. The sealant gives the piece a darker color and a smell, which I hope goes away, of a just- polished shoe. It took about 20-30 hours to complete.

2008-10-23T06:02:00.001-05:00

October 23-- Good news from Ireland

There’s lots of news and it all seems great. So, I’ll move from the political to the private here. I’m just back from about a week in the West, visiting friends in Colorado and attending the wedding of my niece Cathy Charley in Oregon.

But I’ll start with some fresh news, I called my cousin Peggy T. in Ireland this morning and the word is that the cysts in her neck and head that were so worrisome are “clear.” She may not have to go in for surgery at all.

Peggy and I have been corresponding now since I think 1971. I began saving the letters sometime in the early 1980’s. I found a stack of them recently. The computer and lower cost telephone calls has cut into our written correspondence in the last years. But it is still a remarkable thing to think that we’ve been corresponding all this time.

Her daughter Helen married in Ireland in June. That was the reason we flew there. Helen’s wedding was a great country wedding complete with the bride wearing Wellington boots for the removal of the garter.

Vincie and Peggy have owned and operated the family farm in the years since they married, coincidentally on the same weekend as the death of Elvis Presley. From a subsistence farm, it grew. Patsy, Vincie’s brother and partner combined his operations with Vincie’s some time ago. The farm, at first a dairy operation, now produces dry cattle.

The news, briefly told to me by Patsy, was great to hear. The blog, of course started when Jane had a cancer scare in August. So, the health of the family has always been at its heart.

The other interesting part of this is that we discuss health care around the table. Jane, the RN, is always concerned about increasing coverage for people. And, the loss of my employment in August put the issue of Ceili and my health care on the table for discussion. How could we afford medical coverage of Ceili and I?

I’m not sure what the system of health care is in Ireland. I thought at one time that it was a single-payer (socialized or national) system. However, I’ve been told that it is not completely single-payer. Apparently there is an element of national health in the system, but that the private insurance industry is still important.

I suspect that Peggy was not covered for this procedure by any private insurance, as she was aware of the issue of her cysts in June. It took four months to make a determination of her health. That sounds like a national system to me. However, friends there tell me they purchase levels of private insurance for coverage. We could discuss how this system worked and didn’t work going forward, but it is instructive that Peggy had to wait at least four months to be told her cyst was not threatening.

Anyway, great news from Ireland this morning.

2008-10-19T19:12:00.002-05:00

Well it looks like this year I'm going to finally take one for the team. After sinking Hillary Clintons ship by my vote in March I've had enough guilt and will vote for John McCain next month. Let me explain, I have a perfect voting record, not because I have voted in every election since I was 18. No, it's not perfect, I missed once when I was disenfranchised by the City of Chicago in 2000. I have a perfect record of never having voted for winning presidential candidate.

This is the string of looses I've worked, supported or voted for over the last 30 years: Cut my milk teeth on George McGovern,wrote in Eugene McCarthy,Ralph Nader, Ross Perott (twice),worked for and voted for John Anderson, voted for Al Gore and John Kerry. I've had it, I have to be some sort of curse and this is the end. This time I will hold my nose and vote Republican this way it will assure a Obama-Biden victory. It's not so much that I am a dedicated Democrat my politics are far closer to my Socialist Swedish Grandfather than the Democratic party but I will do anything to see that Sarah Pailin never gets a chance to name a Justice to the Supreme Court. Even vote for Sara Helicopter Hunter Pailin.

I may have to take a barf bag into the voting booth but if I take a photo of my daughter look into her beautiful face and think about her future it will be easy...

2008-10-16T02:22:00.003-05:00

To my Beloved Family,

I love you but please stop sending me this stuff!

The time has come for me to tell my Republican Conservative family to stop, I don't want racist humor,wild rumors about Obama taking the oath of office on a Koran and other stuff clogging up my in box. Please keep the letters and photos coming. I want to hear from you regarding your ideas, life and family. But please, (AND I MEAN THIS WITH LOVE) as I have been told for the last 40 years to keep my liberal ideas to myself, the next time you want to send me a copy of something like the photo that went around the family last week, the packet of out of context quotes and lies about Obama this week DON'T!

Instead tell Senator McCain it's not too late he still has a chance to conduct his campaign so his grandchildren will be proud of him.

Love, Jane

2008-10-15T16:37:00.009-05:00

Get ready this is going to be one of those self serving cranky posts that give blogging its well deserved reputation for navel gazing. Things have not been so hot around here. First work is seriously sucky. I'm a school nurse in a large Midwest city. Both of my schools are in city neighborhoods each about 1,000 students. One Truman, is lead by a true maverick of a principal, Al is one of a kind, child centered and doesn't even know where the box is to think out of. But you get along with him or you run screaming from the building. We get along so I'm happy,but even those that love Al know when to give him a wide birth. My other principal Shelia, at Howell well,is more a "traditional" principal. Anyway, it's October 15th Black Friday to school nurses all over the US, it's the day we have to have all of our students immunization records computerized so we can"exclude" them if they are missing vaccines or physicals. Sounds simple, but in reality a complex process.In order to get the data entry done we as nurses would have to ignore all other aspects of our jobs. Your barfing kids, meetings managing the out of control behavior in the classroom, first aid, you name it. Give most nurses the choice between being a data rat and your bleeding, a puking and wheezing kid, your child will win out every time, it's just the way we are wired.

Taking the fact we have been trying to manage all those balls in the air (and moi'ski started the year two weeks late due to surgery) the principal at Truman is telling me to just do my best with the time I have. Shelia, being a second year principal seems a bit less sympathetic. I try to remember all the pressure the city has her under too. State aid depends on the numbers I feed into the computer and as usual money talks.The good news is that I think it will be done in another week, that's good, then we can start throwing out kids at both schools.

Mean while over at Truman we have an outbreak of Foot and Mouth disease and a grandma is pounding on the office glass saying her grandson has "whooping cough". Although I take her seriously, as it would probably take someone of a grandmas age and experience to recognize the "whoop". However,her grandson is fully immunized for a three year old and it only remotely possible that he has whooping cough. I can tell Al, a nervous new grandpa himself to relax and do nothing until we get something in writing from the moppets doctor.

I'm trying to laugh at all of this because I'm working half of the time with my pants unbuttoned, for I've developed a incisional hernia. Ain't that fun? It hurts most of the time I'm wearing clothes, lifting and when rolling over when sleeping. When I woke up in recovery last August I vowed that that loosing the ovary was going to be my last piece of surgery. This is going to test that. Anyway, I'm going to grit my teeth and give it a year and see what happens. Now if only I could find work at a nudist school, that would be the answer.

When I talked to Dr. Silvia about it last week she told me there was only one cure, more surgery. The good news is that it is small and is not likely to strangulate any bowel, the major risk. Still she recommended a CT to confirm that and surgery may very well be in my future. Being the thick headed nurse type I think I'm going to give it a few months to paddle up the river of denial, who knows it might even work this time.

It's the usual thing, we plan and God says HA!

2008-10-07T21:00:00.003-05:00

Those who know me can tell you there are few things I feel more passionately about than universal health care. It is absolutely immoral that we do not have cradle to grave health care in this the richest country in the world. Tonight while watching the Presidential debate I am actually beginning to believe that we might see universal health care within our lifetimes. Barrack O'Bama's Mother died of cancer in her 50's. Her last months of life were made more difficult by health insurance coverage problems, should this man become our next president health care will be a priority. Given the economic and moral carnage of the administration of the last eight years I had all but given up hope of seeing universal health care in the US in my lifetime. Now this eternal optimist has the seed of hope within her.

You don't mess with a mans dying Mother, we have a shot here....You go Barrack!

2008-10-02T06:21:00.003-05:00

October 1-- Rural values and gross incompetence

Jane and I have sat listening to the presidential debates and wondered about the effect of the economic crisis on our own financial futures. It was already shelled by the downsizing I suffered in August.

We are fortunate that we are both relatively healthy and do not plan to retire soon. Still, it would also be nice to have that option. Watching The Daily Show’s Jon Stewart describe President George Bush as the frat boy who is three months from graduation and suddenly realizes he has a big test, I was reminded of my own thoughts, watching him stumble through news conferences in the past two weeks: he has the deer in the headlights look of Dan Qualyle.

If it weren’t for the fact that his mismanagement of the economy and of nearly everything else, has cost us more than a year’s household income in lost value, I could feel sorry for him. No, I guess despite that, I do feel sorry for him. He is so clearly out of his league. Here is one of the few men who can discuss the experience of being President of the US, and he is just beginning to realize how deep the water is.

Now I realize that the GOP likes to portray itself as the party of rural values. But I’d like to know the answer to a simple question: The Clinton Administration left a $127 billion budget surplus in 2000. The White House projects a $482 billion budget deficit in 2009, before the effects of the $700 billion bailout. In total, in the last seven years, not including 2009, the total budget deficit, including the last year of the Clinton administration is now $1.549 trillion, before the bailout and the effects of the stimulus and previous bailouts this year of Fannie and Fredie.

That’s about $5,000 for every man, woman and child. I don’t feel as though I received an additional $5,000 of federal services in the past seven years, six years actually. And the $2,500 of annual tax benefits the average taxpayer received due to the Bush tax cuts? That’s a combined $15,000 plus present value. (And that isn’t per person, but per taxpayer. The average for a person is lower because most minors and many low-income households don’t pay taxes.) Look, I just lost more than a $15,000 in home value and portfolio value this month alone. That doesn’t include Janes’ losses. This month just washed out all those years of tax cuts: Good management of the economy trumps tax Band-Aids.

I’d like to know what happened to that money.

(About $4 billion was put on pallets and shipped to Iraq. That’s about $13 per person, about 2 ½ percent of the $1.549 trillion. That amazing story of incompetence and mismanagement is reproduced here: http://www.truthout.org/article/us-sent-billions-cash-pallets-baghdad).

2008-09-27T08:57:00.002-05:00

September 27-- “I’m on a roll, leave me alone…”

I had to tell Jane this morning to leave me alone. This will be the fourth entry in my blogs today, three having been e-mailed to my editor earlier.

The big discussion last night in our house was about the debate. Now we may not be the typical American household. We are fighting unemployment. But, despite that we are relatively comfortable. There is practically no debt outside the mortgage. Yes, the portfolio is in a shambles; I need to see if I should sell off the bank stocks Monday. They have been relatively strong so far, but the WaMu crash has shaken my belief in the industry.

And, our use of the mortgage bubble has allowed us to fix our house and we are only about 50 percent debt to equity, despite this.

So the debate may be talking about people like Jane, and me or not.

Was I alone in wondering why John McCain kept pointing to Barack Obama’s supposed inexperience? First, I think that there is no experience that we can imagine is even close to being President of the US. Bill Clinton was inexperienced compared to George H W Bush. Yet, his presidency was among the most blessed of our generation. Bush 1 was unexciting. (That’s something you could never say about Clinton LOL)

And it can be said that every challenger is not as experienced as the sitting president. Yet, now, how many people are really glad that George W Bush was reelected in 2004?

So this thing about experience is a bogeyman, a straw man. I don’t see it as important in this election. Hell, even McCain doesn’t really seem to think it’s important. He named Governor Sarah Palin as his running mate. I know that I’m not alone in thinking that she is the most unqualified person to run for that office since Dan Quayle.

That accusation, that Obama is inexperienced, doesn’t hang right to me I’m not impressed by McCain’s greater experience in foreign affairs. It is clear to me that Obama will be able to energize the American ideal that has been so important to the country. I don’t believe McCain will care about that or be able to do anything about it.

And, I was depressed to hear McCain say that foreign aid was being misspent. It is apparently a target for his fiscal cutbacks.

We paid foreign aid to the Taliban for years. It was for the purpose of cutting the flow of heroin to the West. Was that such a bad use of foreign aid? Is it a poor use of foreign aid to purchase nets to ward off malaria? Is it a bad use of foreign aid to purchase drugs for malaria, aids and other third world diseases that are killing thousands every day? Is it a poor use of foreign aid to educate foreign students in American ideals by bringing them to America?

I’m tired of foreign aid being the horse to be flogged every four years. This country doesn’t spend enough on foreign aid. Its foreign aid may even be misdirected, as some charge. But enough flogging an under funded program.

Yacking further, is it really in this country’s best interest to challenge Russia in Georgia? Is Georgia completely innocent in this case? Personally, I do not want to see American troops fighting Russians in the Caucuses. The Ukraine is far more strategic for this country and I question whether we want to support the Ukraine against the Russians. Again, I don’t want to see Americans in the Ukrainian wheat fields fighting Russians.

Apparently McCain doesn’t agree. His running mate supports extending NATO membership to Georgia. Palin said Russia’s attack into Georgia last month was ‘unprovoked’. Asked to clarify that she’d support going to war over Georgia, she said: ‘Perhaps so.’

You know what I think will help resolve this issue? We should sit down, without preconditions, with the Russians. Diplomacy. It’s something so … 19th Century. You’d think Republicans would understand what it means.

Bottom line, I think McCain doesn’t get the foreign relations thing. And he sure seems to be in over his head on the economic thing. Obama, while not dazzling me, was sober and thoughtful. After nearly eight years of a no-thinking-allowed White House, I’d like someone who considers and pauses. This week, McCain failed. His debate showed me that his direction is wrong and his tactical plan leading to the debate, the entire brinkmanship over whether to show up or not, Oh! Boy! No more.

You might be a maverick, John McCain. But we need a horse we can depend on.

2008-09-27T04:10:00.003-05:00

Life is moving on... I have been back to work for a week and a half. Frankly it was to soon,I'm coming home exhausted managing to accomplish one household task then hit the couch or bed for a 2-3 hour nap. Then would you believe it is impossible to sleep after 4:00 am? It's a crazy schedule, that has to give if only for poor Kissane's sake, it's hard enough living with a woman going through surgical menopause but one on this sleeping schedule must be even worse. As usual he's coping with humor but the cats are beginning to hide.

Despite the exhaustion work is good. I think with the insanity of the nations economy would be making me a CNN junkie by now if I was home. Both of my parents were products of the depression, my 92 year old Mother especially so. Her family went from being wealthy to not knowing where their next meal was coming from in days. My Great Uncle Joe managed to save one small house, get a job as a bookkeeper, feed clothe and house his and my Mom's family. He must have been quite a guy, I wish I remembered him better. Anyway I was raised on stories of "the Crash", depression and bread lines. That combined with the events of the last week nationally and our own challenges of the last month have left me feeling pretty vulnerable to the winds of outrageous fortune so work helps. Knowing that we have one paycheck and the health insurance that provides is some shelter from the economic storm out there, so sucking it up and getting through the day becomes easier.

I was told that getting better would not happen over night, but somehow I feel like the entire country is in menopause with me. I tell ya,these hot flashes are not for sissies, don't get me started on the national mood swings!

2008-09-26T13:49:00.001-05:00

September 26-- Happy Birthday

Ceili had her 20th birthday earlier this week. She was depressed due to some friends blowing her off in a social engagement. As a result she didn't answer calls from me. Sunday, when we finally talked, I was suffering a serious migraine and Jane had made substitute plans. We were unavailable.

Jane suggested I buy a smash cake and surprise her at Harper. It was an excellent idea and one that I should have thought of. Monday, I was on a mission. I went down to Dinkel's, which is the same bakery I've always purchased her birthday cakes from, and bought a yellow cake.

They don't keep smash cakes available anymore, you need to order them. They are called smash cakes as 15 years ago we'd buy a cake for the kid and one for the adults. The child would grab the cake with one hand and stuff it in their mouths. Smash it up.

I had a card and a few small things. Because of the unemployment we didn't have much to offer Ceili this time. I put a $50 Target gift card in.

I drove out to Harper, not knowing Ceili's class schedule. I called her from a table near the cafe there and asked if she wanted to have lunch. Of course every college kid wants dad to pay for lunch. She said sure.

When she showed up, I pulled the card out and gave it to her. Then I opened the cake box. I had some plates and plastic ware and I lit a candle.

It was one of the new candles that has an electronic chip inside. It was supposed to play "Happy Birthday." Ceili blew out the candle immediately.

She looked around and said, "you can't have open flame in here."

"All they'll do is tell you to blow it out," I replied. She looked at me with those big eyes and didn't say anything.

I lit the candle again. The candle was silent.

"Go ahead and blow it out now," I said. "Happy Birthday!"

I think she liked my little romantic gesture.

2008-09-14T09:35:00.009-05:00

Powderhornhockey
In our kitchen there is a collection of buttons from political campaigns of the past. There are several of the "I like Ike" variety. General Eisenhower was my Dad's commander during WWII and as you can guess our house was firmly in his camp when he ran for president. However, during this soggy weekend in Chicago we do not like Hurricane IKE!

It started slowly enough yesterday 3:OO am when I got up to close windows. Then at 6;45 am when I went down to check the basement and the rain was trickling down the back stairs, there was water but the drains were handling it well. I simply picked up the lightest things that might float over to the drain and clog it and I went back up stairs. An hour later there was an inch of water around the drain but it was swirling slowly. I told Kissane he had to move a birch table top and check things. Bless him he worked some magic with a plumbers helper and the drain worked beautifully for the rest of the day and the basement remained damp but essentially dry. The back and side yard were different stories, by 9:00 the east side of the yard was ankle deep and the breeze way...well I was looking for canoe. Then we got a short break in the down pour by 11:00 and the yard had a chance to drain a bit into the street. It never got that bad again.

Today it's pretty dark, the rain is still coming down steadily but the basement drain and walls are dry. The sidewalk fills and then drains periodically, I wonder where the water is draining to, hopefully into the city's drainage system as it has been designed to. The unrelenting grayness of the last two days reminds me of those dark June days of Hurricane Agnes and the devastation that she brought to my home state of New York in 1972. As the street lights flicker on and off during the daylight hours I keep thinking about those powerless down south in the now downgraded storms. Keep safe and Godspeed.

2008-09-01T15:02:00.012-05:00

Happy Labor Day all! It's hot and I'm going to be short and let the photos tell the story. Patrick and Matt are at a Cubs game with a third evil companion and by now they should be deep into the second or third inning. Thank God Matt got seats in the shade or they would be little grease spots by now. Wrigley is nowhere to be when it is over 90 degrees, but what does this hockey fan know?

A few days ago Kissane promised a few photos of the parkway as a work in progress, I shot a few today and it clearly shows how far we have come from a flooded patch that has been dug up 6 times in the last 18 months to a semblance of a garden. Patrick as worked his tail off over this patch of land and he should be proud of the results. It still has the last 20 % to go, the restraining wall, mulch and the tree the city will provide but it has been a pleasure to watch it come together.

And watch this red head has, a big change for her, I take no credit for this effort it's all Pat's. Just for grins I dug around the photo cache for a few of "Ice Station Zebra" shots when we had our own near regulation rink on the street due to the broken water main. It was this water main break and the loss of the maple in the photos that started the entire series of "digs" that produced the garden in progress today.

2008-08-30T13:10:00.008-05:00

Sometimes guardian angels have familiar faces....

Mary Anne Potter, an woman easy to remember with a smile. Mary Anne was my oldest and dearest friend, she died of cancer on December 27th 1993 . Mary Anne and I had talked on the phone a day earlier and she had told me she had a bladder infection and was worried. She had an aggressive and deadly form of cancer, one that usually kills in 3-6 months and at this point she was 4 years post diagnosis. She was an amazing fighter but she did have her days when as she put it"I'll be dead in a week". Our last conversation happened on one of those horrible days, I did my best to convince her that she had only been on the medication 12 hours and it takes 24 for the antibiotics to kick in, she usually followed this pattern. If she didn't feel better in the morning call the doctor and demand to be seen! I was leaving on a Florida Keys trip the next day but to call if she needed a ride before noon. Little did I know Mary Anne would be in kidney failure by the time our plane touched down in Key West and dead by the time we saw our first fish.

But I'm getting ahead of myself telling her story, Mary Anne was all about life and a good story. We met as teenagers, yacht club brats that would meet up 3-4 times a year at regattas, her family, the Bryant's were among the one design royalty, best of the best. More importantly since they were Lighting sailors and my family sailed Highlanders we didn't compete directly but still had boat loads in common. The Bryant family was always were the good times were everyone gravitated to them at regattas, tough competitors on the water and they could party all night. I can't tell you how many Sunday morning races I started with one or two hours sleep thanks to the "evil companions" I had been up with the night before. Many of them probably had been named Bryant. Then we lost track of each other as college started,finished then marriage entered our lives. We met again in my early 30's when we were crewing for her sister in law Laura Bryant on a TMI 27 in a women's series.

Laura had thrown us together thinking we would be a good match, she had no idea how good. Mary Anne and I had never been on the same boat before but were a seamless sail handling team, she on jib and spinnaker I on main and pole. We never spoke more than two words to each other during the race, we communicated with shrugs,huhs,humms and I sees, it was magic. On the way to and from the club we would talk, I was in the throws of infertility testing and the aftermath and yes, I was a bit nuts at the time over my inability to conceive. Mary Anne helped me see I was more than the sum of my ovaries and that I was a worthwhile person with or without a pregnancy. She saved my sanity, simply saved it that first summer we sailed together.

In January 1988 I called her to wish her a happy New Year, her husband told me she was at Erie County Medical Center, in the ICU and had cancer, it would be three months before I heard her voice again. Mary Anne had a tumor that started out at the bifurcation of her vena cava worked it's way down the renal vein, encased the entire kidney, then started down the other renal vein. Her brilliant surgeon had removed the kidney, both renal veins and had turned the renal artery around ( making the valves work line a vein) so she now had a kidney with a shot at working. Mary Anne was now on dialysis and was in and out of a coma in full blown ICU psychosis when she was out. It was April before she came home, 70 pounds lighter and several shades darker from liver failure and jaundice.

To paraphrase General Grant;" You didn't leave me when I was crazy, now I'm not leaving you when you are sick."

I left out some important details of out lives, by this time Mary Anne was a Professor of nursing at Damen and a Nurse Practitioner in Maternal and Child Health and a Nurse Midwife, her husband Bill was a researcher at Roswell Park Cancer Institute. I was one year into my own nursing education in the bowels of the SUNY system. Mary Anne and I became each others lifeline during her 18 months of chemo. I would stop by daily, she would help me learn how to write a decent care plan and I just did what needed to be done while she was on the drip. Often her son Stephen would have flu symptoms like clockwork when she was on chemo. Obviously she could not be near him, as her immune system was shot. Both of us felt his symptoms were psychosomatic, however we needed to take him seriously, he was a kid who's life was turned upside down. His Mom was sick, no wonder he wanted to stay home and keep an eye on her. She was nuts, one of my favorite memories is of her calling me at 6:00 as I was leaving for class and asking me to bring her doughnuts. "If I'm going to throw up all day I'm going to enjoy it first!".

Dr. Good Buns and other medical types....

Mary Anne had lots of appointments and procedures that necessitated her return to ECMC after her discharge that spring, I took her to a few. After one nasty test we were walking down the hall and she started laughing and pointing at a mans scrub clad butt as he walked ahead of us. (She was right to point, this guy had an amazingly cute wagon.) "That's Dr Good Buns she squealed!" Then he turned around and spoke to us, yes, he had been one of her physicians when she was in ICU. According to Mary Anne, one of the gentlest. Sometimes she would wake, up roll over, look at him as he left and as he walked away asked the nurses "wasn't that Dr. Good Buns?". Hospitals are like small towns and this nickname quickly caught up with him, this Dr. was very pleased to see that a patient he had cared for in such a critical state was now up and cracking jokes. After he left Mary Anne stopped and looked at me very seriously and said, "Jane, it's important to have good looking doctors, because even when they give you bad news you have something nice to look at."
Something Kissane reminded me of when we were in Dr Rodriguez's office, on Tuesday, the Doc is a good looking man, even when he gave us some bad news I had something nice to look at. Kissane, although he never had a chance to know Mary Anne he has heard a hundred stories about her and knows when to quote the master.

She was no saint, Mary Anne ate medical students for breakfast and interns for lunch. God help anyone who patronized her, missed one of her fragile veins or other wise pissed her off. She always said that when you are sick, it's your body, protect it and accept no Bozos touching it. Something that I remembered when I refused to have a med tech work on me after she used sloppy clean technique the first time. When it's your body on the line" nice" has nothing to do with it, never let an incompetent touch you.

Eventually the chemo stopped and Mary Anne resumed her teaching schedule at Damen College, she also started on her PHD in nursing at Buffalo State. By this time I had finished my Associates and passed my state boards and was a baby RN cutting my milk teeth in the profession . She wanted to finish her PHD spurred on by her patient experience, her goal was to improve how nurses relate to patients on a one to one basis. Mary Anne constantly kept telling me about small incidents during her many hospital stays that added up to poor care when nurses loose perspective of what it is like to be in that bed as a sick and scared patient. Something I now understand pretty clearly myself these days.

Then we got the word that the cancer had spread to her liver, I offered of lobe of mine. No, at the time Roswell did not transplant cancer patients at that time and they opted for a removal of most of two lobes, they would grow back. Wow. It was football season and Mary Anne a rabid Buffalo Bills, fan was visited in hospital by one of the NFL refs named "Wedge", she glowed for days. The procedure went well and she seemed fairly healthy for a few months.

Bring me Thurman Thomas's jock strap, used.

Then Mary Anne started to have to go in for more procedures and tests, all involving her liver. Before on of her many admissions I asked if there was anything I could do. Roast a turkey, pick up one of the kids from hockey practice, the usual stuff that needs doing when a parent goes into the hospital. But Nooooooooooo our girl got the devils own grin on her puss and said "bring me the jock strap of Thurman Thomas, used if possible" Who did this chick think she was, Salome? How in the wide world of sports was I going to pull that one off? Picking up Andrew and his stinky goalie pads would have far easier. I threw myself on the mercy of my friend Linda Feldman, a very resourceful woman and one of a few contacts in the professional sports world. "Too bad she didn't want one of the Sabres jocks, I could help you there." Linda said, but" Jane, this is doable, think, all you have to do is get to the right person with a sense of humor".

A week passed, the phone rang and it was for my first husband Sam. His favorite uncle Paul had died and the wake was in Rochester tomorrow, would we be there? At the wake lightening struck, Sam's Aunt Peggy a proud mother took me aside and told me " Isn't it great Mike's television show with Thurmon Thomas was renewed for another season!" Mike was a Rochester sports caster at the time and here was my opening.I took a deep breath..."Peggy, this is totally inappropriate ( as I dragged her outside) but please listen." Peggy, a good sport then listened to Mary Anne's tale smiled and said she would help. Two weeks later my phone rang, it was Peggy from the set of the show, I could hear Mike and Thurman Thomas's voices in the background. " I need to know her name,where the cancer is and the hospital." Easy stuff. A week later a package arrived in the mail, it was a "zubas" football signed by Thomas accompanied by a note saying he didn't give up his underwear for anybody. I ran over to Potters and presented the football to Mary Anne, she was astounded, the nut actually claimed she slept with it for a month. Some kids never grow up.

A couple of months later I called her to see how she was feeling after our dive trip, Bill answered the phone. Could I come over? When I arrived he gave me the news that Mary Anne had gone into kidney and liver failure 36 hours after we had talked. In the days before cell phones they had no way of reaching me as only Mary Anne knew where I was. We cried together, shared some memories and he gave me a copy of her eulogy which he had delivered. The football was in a place of honour on the mantle next to a photo of her, smiling and healthy. To this day I still have that eulogy, it is inches away from where I sit now, but it is her life that is her greatest testament.

Last week during a low spot I said "Mary Anne where are you now when I need you? Dead!" Kissane, bless him, quietly said " she couldn't help dying" It was the quiet reassuring tone in his voice that reminded me that she was still there, I just couldn't see her. During these last few weeks conversations we had so many years ago have come back to me clearly when I needed them. Even though she transcended to immortality 15 years ago her wisdom, spirt and humor were with me these past weeks. I was wrong again, she has been with me all along, remembered with love and laughter, Yes, some guardian angels have familiar faces.

As we celebrate the good news of the benign cyst, we miss you Mary Anne...

2008-08-29T13:21:00.003-05:00

My belly button feels and looks like a rotor rooter has been at it, there are mysterious aches,pains and bruises all over my body. Yes, I know they put you in weird positions in surgery and get over it. If I'm cranky today that is a very good sign.

First I'm so grateful for so many things, the fact the cyst is benign, Kim who sat with Patrick all day and kept us both on an even keel. Holly who knows how to light up a room with a joke or a smart ass comment when needed. Ron, Barb, Sal and Mom who called constantly. Everyone of you who were yanking on God's sleeve on our behalf in the last weeks. Thank you so much, trust me when you are on the receiving end of such positive energy you really feel it!.

I 'm much better today, yesterday I slept, everywhere. I did make attempts to rise from bed and usually fell promptly asleep. On the couch, chair, desk and even on the toilet, where if you doze there you run the risk of landing in a litter box. Not my first choice of pillow. School has started without me for the first time in 20 years and you know what? I really don't care, it will all be there for me in a couple of weeks to deal with. The world is quite happily turning without me....

Today's big challenge was a shower, it felt soooo good. No more funky hospital smells, traces of betadine on my belly and two days of wear and tear. Still as good as it felt I ended up sitting as I dried my hair and dressed, I know baby steps. By Sunday my big goal is to get into elastic waisted pants and a tank top. A college friend of Kissane's is coming by and it would be nice to not be in a night gown.

Matt is going to get Pat out of the house to a Polish Festival about a mile from the house then the boys are going to a Sox game on Monday. As long as the guys bring me something yummy from the festival I'm cool. God knows Patrick needs a chance to blow off some steam and Matt is just the guy to do it with.

I've been up a couple of hours and my pillow is calling...I'll do better and write something profound soon.

2008-08-28T14:09:00.004-05:00

August 28 B9!

B9, B9, B9. The bottom line is the cyst is benign! Instead of a total hysterectomy, Jane lost a single ovary.

Jane was released last night at about 9 PM from Evanston Hospital. She is in pain and is sleeping a lot.

Although her blood sugar was 256 last night, which is high for Jane, the surgeon felt this was within the range desired (there was some sugar in the IV they were feeding her and she also had some Jello for dinner, possibly elevating the count).

She is currently around 101.

The pain is being managed by a mix of Ibuprofen and Darvocet.

A great big hug and kiss to Kim Crivello who sat with me all day yesterday. It was sweet and I really needed a female friend with me. Also to Holly Braun-Len. Because Kim had no car, she would have had to take the PACE home last night, arriving home close to 10 PM. Holly was really nice, came over, gave everyone some shit and then drove Kim home.

So, more hugs and kisses for Holly! Thanks guys. I'm really touched by your kindness.

2008-08-28T11:08:00.000-05:00

August 27 In the waiting room

It is Wednesday, in the early afternoon. I just received a call from a college friend, Jack Overstreet. I haven’t talked to Jack in about 25 years and there will be a lot to catch up on with him. But, it is best that I missed his call and will be able to respond later; the hospital waiting room is, despite the sunlight streaming in, not a great place to respond and I want to renew this friendship with hope and love.

Jane entered surgery at about 10:30 AM this morning. Kim Crivello is here with me this morning, it is the first time that a friend has joined me during one of Jane’s surgeries, and I really appreciate it. I had broken down crying last night, talking to my sister, Winnie Charley, about my fear that I could lose Jane.

Almost exactly 20 years ago, when my daughter was born (this is for Ceili, it was 21 September 1988) the doctor had given me a paper to sign after two days of labor. It was a simple form giving permission for a Caesarian Section.

Anna Yackle, my first wife, says I froze.

I probably did. I thought I was signing a death warrant. I have never felt as powerless or as scared… until now.

So, Kim is here to hold my hand, if necessary. But the oncologist, in a long meeting with Jane and I yesterday, assured me that it was highly unlikely that there would be any need for that sort of event again.

(That’s the reassurance I needed. Most of the meeting was for Jane’s benefit.)

So, as emotional as I am at the moment, I’m glad to have Jack wait.

I look for old friends from college from time to time and had been looking for Jack and another friend, Robert Foster, for some years. The searches usually occur around Christmas, but are also spurred by events such as turning 50 or especially September 2001. Jack is the second old college friend to reconnect this week, the other being Dan Fowler.

Bob has eluded my searches over the years, though I think he was working for a time in upstate New York near Oneida for a while.

Jack was very easy to find with the right search terms. For years I’d just been using the wrong terms. It turns out he is listed by HuffPo in one of its indexes as among the worst of the worst. (Well, I know Jack, and that’s HuffPo’s opinion. Look in my other blog to read what I think of them.)

Okay, gotta take a break here. Doctor Boutros just came through and announced that the cyst was benign and that the surgery only required the loss of a single ovary. There is a wash of emotion here and relief. I’m going to make some calls and relax.

Five phone calls later… My head is spinning around. I made a handful of telephone calls and now I’m trying to funnel this great feeling into my writing. Writing makes me feel more relaxed then talking to people.

The loss of safety, the realization, really, that we are mortal and that death awaits us really came into focus in September 2001. And since that time, spurred by events like becoming 50 or now Jane’s illness and my RIF notice, spur me to look at old friendships, to seek them out.

We are human and humanity means mortality. Only the young believe they will live forever, not having experienced loss.

We seek our foundations at times of stress, I think. The measure of a man is often found in how he deals with defeat and challenges. God knows that with Jane’s health, even her life, threatened and no job, I’ve been a textbook case of stress this month. I’ve been seeking out those old friendships more and more, seeking the reassurance that there is a more spiritual nature to our existence; that this too shall pass.

God, this sounds so loopy. I simply needed that lost foundation from friends that we still cared for each other, even if we hadn’t seen each other for years. And the renewal of friendships with these people is very welcome. We are mortal and our time is brief. I want to preserve those valuable relationships. I want them to grow again.

I guess that’s why I started this blog and why I invite people to read it. (Also, note, this is the last mass e-mails. I’ll create the ability to subscribe to the blog and otherwise allow you to keep in touch there.)

Bottom line, Jane’s cyst is benign. That is really good news after a month of crap.

2008-08-27T07:54:00.004-05:00

Now this is what I call the fuzzy end of the Popsicle...I will do better in a couple of days, I promise. Bit I am still pretty much at half mast after yesterdays festivities. Kissane and I had a "big day", first was the hour we spent with the oncologist (Dr Cuteness as I will hopefully not call him from today on.) Dr Rodriguez was professional, warm, through and talked to us about all of the options facing us. Basically I'm going to keep any healthy parts possible but if they find cancer they can clean house and we will move on. Patrick is supportive but more than a little dazed, thank God Kim will be there for him today and our daughter a phone call away.

Then after a nice morning the afternoons festivities started. For those of you under 50 this might be a new procedure to you but I had the wonder of a "bowel prep" to go through. Basically I had yummy clear liquids all day to eat and drink, beef consume, Popsicles and apple juice as a treat. Then at 4:00 and 7:00 pm I had to drink the most horrible stuff known to man to make me positively live in the bathroom until 5:40 AM this morning. By 10:30 I was pretty miserable and curled up on the couch watching whatever movie was on...

Well it's 8:00 we are leaving in a half hour for the hospital, Kissane is pacing and getting ready to pack the van for the 25 minute trip. I called my sister, left a message for the kidlet, called in sick. Right now it is getting difficult to concentrate on the gratitude and not on the fear,but I think faith will win out. Only the good die young and Rickard's are a long line of pirates, Ok Privateers, God knows a heretic, sometimes Socialist,always liberal reprobate will be around to pester Patrick to 100, that's why I married a younger man after all...

2008-08-25T17:32:00.001-05:00

The parkway August 25

The last entry today is about the front garden. Perhaps I can get Jane to take some pretty pictures of it. It is hard to do that. The front, or parkway as we call it in Chicago, has been torn up and is in the process of coming back. It will take years.

The first sign of trouble in the front was when we had the sewer contractor put a clean-out into the sewer. This tore up a small area of the front and left a small mound of clay and garbage dirt. That was in November, 2006. In late January 2007, a city main to the house broke when the temperatures plunged.

So many mains broke in the city that there was trouble trying to repair them and our water break wasn’t given the priority of other problems.

So it froze the street. Jane, we need a picture of the frozen cars here, it will help people remember that it isn’t always this hot.

About two inches of water slowly spread from the main to the houses on each side for several lots, and also into the street. Cars parked in front of our house became encased in several inches of ice and could not be moved for several weeks. And a large area became unusable by vehicles due to the ice. You could get your car in, but the ice would grow around it overnight and you couldn’t get out without a tow truck.

Anyway, that created a big hole in the parkway about ten feet from the sewer clean-out. The city came by and inspected the four story tree in front of the house and removed it. They said the sewer and water work had torn its roots and it could come down in a high wind. Now there was another hole.

The loss of the sugar maple, it was about 45 years old according to some kids who counted the rings, was heart breaking. We had loved the color of the reflected light streaming through our windows in the evening. Now, our windows were open to the street lamp and noise of the street too.

One of our dreams was to complete our attic, leaving a French window in the front that we could open to the tree. That is all gone now.

However, the surviving firewood from the tree burns slow and has a wonderful smell.

In the summer the city came by and put a dinky little hedge maple in the hole left by the tree. We never loved that tree and knew it wouldn’t last. It was felled when our water contractor upgraded the building water supply and did more work on the sewer line. Good bye hedge maple, hello three more holes.

That was last winter. We contacted the city to request another tree, this time making a specific request for an Accolade Elm. This is a relative of the elm trees that were famous in this area, until they were killed by Dutch elm disease. I thought that it would be nice to be the first house on the block to have an elm again.

While we are waiting for the elm, the gas utility company has done more work on the parkway, putting new service in one area and removing it from another. Two more holes.

Yesterday I worked on the parkway, gathering the clay, bricks, cement, rocks and junk that had been dumped there over the years by contractors, and unearthed by all these efforts. I pushed it to the center of the parkway and hoped the city or the gas utility would take it away.

The pile ended up being about three foot high and about three foot around. That’s a lot of earth coming from a patch of parkway only about 6’ by 30’. I went out and purchased about $200 of rock and about $250 of plants and started work.

The neighbors say it looks nice. It will take years to know for sure.

I think that the parkway has become a metaphor for the things that can go wrong in life and also how life can survive and grow. Of course, left to its own devices, the parkway would be a weed patch. In fact it was a weed patch for most of the summer as we waited for the utility to complete its work.

The parkway is never going to be perfect and maybe it will never be complete. It is a growing thing, complicated by the salt in the street, the passage of pedestrians and dogs over it and its use to access the building for the sewer, water and gas. But it should look beautiful in a few years. I can see where it is headed and have faith in my vision of how it will look.

2008-08-25T17:31:00.000-05:00

Jane's film list August 25

While waiting to meet Ceili I stopped in Wal-Mart to get Jane some of the intellectual junk food she wanted. Number one on the list was the new Starship Troopers film—direct to DVD. Boy, I can’t wait to see the shower scene in this film. Do you like bugs? Do you like killing bugs? Do you have a fear of bugs killing you? Never mind, SST is pure trash, prepared by the mind of one of the great fascist sci-fi writers of the USA. Just the kind of junk Jane will need to see.

Also high on the list was Scorpion King 2; Rise of a Warrior. I believe this is another fine example of a film that detoured around the theaters and went straight to DVD. There’s a gag reel on this one!!

Jane has never seen When Harry Met Sally and it has always been a fantasy of mine to reenact the restaurant scene. Plus, I thought that after all the blood and gore of the first two films my pacifist little wife would enjoy a classic love movie.

And so, I also got her A River Runs Through It. Did you know that you could pick French as the primary language of the film? But seriously, a story about taking a dysfunctional family and putting a writer in? Who would have guessed all the fun that ensues?

Finally, Jane has been a fan of Will Ferrell’s movies for a while. Gotta love the Baby Jesus scene in Talladega, right? Am I right? God bless the little baby Jesus and NASCAR too. She hasn’t even seen Semi-Pro yet and she’s a sports fan for goodness sake.

I’m looking at the top of the dresser, where all the new DVDs are kept, and I see she received Sicko from me last time she was in the hospital. That one, though she is a liberal socialist, is still unopened. For shame.

She also hasn’t opened Big, Bad Wolf. I guess that’s a sign that I don’t always know her taste in film. I’m not sure what it’s all about, but I’m sure it is a lot of fun when you’re hallucinating on hospital pain killers.

Gosh, she didn’t open Empire of the Sun, Hoosiers, the Replacements, Bottom of the Ninth, Parallel Lines or Prey either. Prey, a film I’m sure I purchased because it is not rated and the cover of the DVD shows Bridget Moynahan in a tight top, her nipples showing through… Why wouldn’t she open that one?

But she did like what I purchased for her today. She almost directed me to get these films for her. As my cousin Helen says, sometimes you have to tell people what you want to get it.

2008-08-25T17:30:00.001-05:00

Back to HR August 25

It was back to the offices of the HR department of the Chicago Public Schools this morning, at the urging of Jane. It is important to have the benefits lost at the Tribune Co. replaced by CPS before 30 days have expired since the RIF, or about September 8.

I met with Gina again and explained that apparently Jane had talked to a supervisor. I wasn’t enrolling due to a new hire but due to a life changing event: the loss of my benefits. The supervisor had directed Jane to send me with the documents necessary to enroll. Gina took copies of my daughter’s birth certificate, our marriage license and certificate and the court order providing that I was to provide Ceili with benefits when that was possible.

The copy of the class schedule for Ceili was not with me and it didn’t matter as CPS wanted a letter from the college registrar’s office that Ceili was full-time. Fortunately I had the car with me and I drove out to Harper College to meet with Ceili to order this document.

The Harper College registrar said these letters were taking about two weeks to complete. I showed them the demand from the CPS HR office for a copy within a week. They were nice enough to say they’d attempt to provide it on Tuesday. I left Ceili with a copy of the CPS request and instructions to complete this Tuesday. Wednesday we’ll be in the hospital and maybe Thursday too. It isn’t likely to get done before Friday if someone, probably Ceili, doesn’t get it in gear.

Good kid that she is, she agreed. So, maybe we’ll finally be covered by health insurance again.

2008-08-23T03:25:00.010-05:00

This was today's general mailing to family and friends, things are beginning to move pretty fast getting ready for surgery and I had to resort to a mass mailing. Do I feel guilty? No, Muggins here is getting over that...

Hello everyone and I mean everyone...

First thank you for all the cards, emails and phone calls over the last couple of weeks they have meant so much to us. Each and every one is a morale booster.

As most of you have heard, we have a second challenge in our lives to deal with, Patrick was RIF'd from his job at the Tribune on August 8th with 24 hours notice. Not the best time for one paycheck but it does mean he will be free to take care of poor little ole' me after my surgery next week on the 27th.

We do have some great news...On Tuesday Pat's nephews Dan and Michael came to the house to help us rip up the 60's vintage gold carpets and expose the oak floors. The entire process involved moving two couches up to the attic, moving boxes from the attic to the garage for sorting. Then ripping up the stanky 50 year old carpets, lovely things that they were. Those guys were great finishing everything in one day when we thought it would take two.

The floors although not in perfect condition have no cracked or broken boards, look great and have just a few lovely "creeks" that we now can hear without the carpet. We are very happy with the result of a hard days work. Today the new leather couch, love seat and chair arrived, the redheads now have matching furniture! WooHoo!

So guys, we have some bad stuff going on and some good stuff too. Physically I'm having mostly good days, feeling pretty tired at times and have a nagging ache in my lower right side I can't wait to get rid of. The best news is that with all the support we have been getting from everyone the bottom line is that we are going to be fine. We are facing some challenges here, but in a year these bumps in the road will hopefully be disappearing in the rear view mirror.

Love ya all, Jane

I was at the deli getting lunch for the team pulling up the carpets on Tuesday when my phone rang. It was the service where I renew my CPR every two years. I'm up for renewal before the 28th, have I forgotten? Can I get in this week? I think that one can be labeled fat chance.....

2008-08-22T10:23:00.003-05:00

22 August 2008 A Day in Line

I’m still getting into the swing of these more personal blogs. I faced a bit of a block about what to write about, when it occurred that I’d experienced a number of the stupid things that just about every job seeker has to endure: the job counselor, the human relations office from hell and of course the unemployment office.

And, of course, I had each of these experiences in a single day.

So, let’s go into the day of hell…

I’m disappointed and angry that the Tribune Co. provided virtually no severance package. If I sign off on a waiver of all their possible wrongs, then they’ll throw me a bone, consisting of outplacement services and also about five weeks of regular pay towards my retirement account.

That seems like a high price to pay, so I arranged to return to a placement service I’d used in the past, the Jewish Vocational Service (JVS). Years ago I’d worked with Hunt Unger at JVS and before that with Bill Frank, a Denver counselor. Both of these counselors had worked using the “What Color is Your Parachute” technique of attempting to recognize your interests, and then locating similar activities in the workplace.

WCIYP demands a lot of time and effort. Frank once said that I was the only person he knew to complete the entire exercise.

While I was able to identify the field I wanted to work in, business journalism, I was never able to successfully transition to the career. So, I plug along, doing other things and writing in my other blog about the financial end of journalism and media.

Unger was a Holocaust survivor and had a lot of miles on him when I first met him at the JVS years ago. No one there seems to know who he is anymore. But then again, the woman I’m currently dealing with was probably still watching Sesame Street when I first met Unger.

Now that’s a mean thing to say about Jennifer Dolan, the new career counselor. I don’t mean to write it as a comment on anything other than her age. She’ll be the third or fourth career counselor I’ve worked with in my life. I hope she is the last counselor. It will be a great day when I’m finally transitioned into a new job or career.

Now at the age of 51, I probably should be worried about age bias. I’m fortunate in that I do look very young for my age. It may come to pass that I’ll need her advice on working against the bias thing. Plus, of course, there is Jane’s health issue, which if any employer finds out about, then I’ll be moved down the list of candidates.

Combine all this poor fortune with the loss of benefits at Tribune and you can see a potential storm on the horizon.

What I need at this point in my life is a career coach, a person who encourages me to get my work done and continue to progress towards my goals. That may mean a change in careers, or it may mean continuing down the path I’m on. There is enough time and energy to explore both changing careers and the current career. And, I’m confident in my ability to do everything but write those introductory letters. Back to that in a moment.

What you lose as you transition out of a job is the structure of a day. I had developed habits or reviewing and returning e-mails, phone calls and making appointments at certain times of the day. I reviewed my corporate credit card on Monday each week. Prepared the cartage payments on a specific day, the expense report on a specific day…

All that is lost. So, Dolan’s job will be to impersonally ask what the hell I’m up to. If the goal is to move to another job, then there are things that need to be done. I need to contact everyone I can in my past and begin saying, “Hey, I need to find another job. Here is what I did previously…”

That’s where the blog comes in.

About the JVS; the JVS is open to anyone. It is a United Way Agency. There’s always a lot of security in the office. You are separated from everyone but your counselor. They also, in this office, offer services to immigrants. Perhaps that’s why they have such tight security. But at a time when you need human interaction, they are holding you back, keeping you at arms length. It is something I would reconsider, if I were them.

“Welcome to America… now keep back!”

Now, as to the letters, I’ve tried to follow the same sort of introduction I used in the takeovers of the interviews, so far without success. Basically, attempting to start a small story about something, then lead into why that well-known story is applicable to the hiring situation and why we should take the next step, a meeting (that I’ll take over, if I can).

For example here might be the basis for one of my current letters:

“Charles Howard was a key distributor of Buicks in the Western States prior to World War II. However, that isn’t what he was best known for. He spotted talent in a quiet horse wrangler named Tom Smith and hired him to watch his horses. Smith had been selling mustangs to the British Army for the Boer War, then when the British no longer needed horses, he had worked a Western ranch, keeping ponies in shape for the cowhands.

“Smith had a knack for taking broken down old ponies and keeping them going on the ranch. It was his way with animals, they said, that the animals trusted him and loved him.

“Smith saw a future in a horse that was losing some claiming races on the second-tier of the racing circuit. A knobby-kneed horse, it was unable to win races, it was lazy and angry. Smith believed the horse, in the right hands, would challenge one of the great horses of the century, War Admiral.

“He found those hands in a pugilistic young jockey named Red Pollard, who wandered into the stables, drunk and dirty one afternoon. Pollard was winning just six percent of his races and was believed to be finished. But, sometimes great talent does just walk in at just the right moment, looking all-wrong.

“The horse was Seabiscuit.

“Now, I’ve just had a great quarter for my former employer. I’m not Red Pollard in temperament or appearance, nor am I the angry and lazy Seabiscuit. I’m more like Tom Smith, transitioning from a broken industry, newspapers, into something new. I hope you see what I’m driving at. Great teams are sometimes cobbled together and recognized by great managers…”

Then, I follow-up with some of my recent accomplishments, and ask for a meeting. I think it might work with the right person. Maybe, it will only work with someone I can work with.

Frank, who I’d worked with earlier in my life, wrote a book for Ten Speed Press on great interview letters. I guess he wouldn’t approve of the way I wrote this fictional letter, but I won’t know unless he responds to a “Hey you!” e-mail.

From the JVS I moved on to the Chicago Public Schools Human Relations Office on North Elizabeth Street. My mother had been the receptionist in the old Teacher Personnel Office at 120 N LaSalle St for more than ten years, retiring there in the mid- 1970’s. I had even worked there as my first job in high school.

I’d discovered the private personnel files of the teachers, and had diligently searched through the records reading the contents of teachers who I knew in high school. Not only was I a bad clerk (they liked my work ethic and offered regular employment, not knowing of my spying on the teachers.), I was a sneak too!

So, I greeted the woman at the desk with this information. Gina replied “uh-huh. Are you applying for a teaching job?”

If I ever had any intention of working with CPS, it was quickly evaporating under Gina’s cold care. I explained that I was looking to join my wife’s benefits package as mine had been terminated with my employment at the Tribune.

Now the fact is that I cannot recall ever getting a job through a job application. Ever. So I’m not impressed by the power of clerks in HR offices. The only thing they can attempt to say is “NO!” But even this is suspect as most jobs are filled through reference and networking, not a blind application.

Plus, as I’d worked there, I knew that this was the busy season for these poor clerks. What you need to remember in these situations is that the clerk is probably not where they want to be and that it isn’t about you in any case. Gina gave me the information I needed to apply for Jane’s benefits and I left.

Did she ever have any interest in me as a human needing help getting through the bureaucracy? I don’t think so.

On to the unemployment office…

They are unreal places probably designed to discourage people from applying for unemployment. I had used the on-line system to apply and be certified. But I am still trying to understand some things about the system, so it was another part of the experience.

I’ve always hated these offices. But, with specific questions about the EFT deposit to my account, my daughter and the effect of part time employment during the unemployment period, I needed some answers. Those three questions only took a moment for the clerk to answer, but I had to wait in line for an hour to get to see the clerk.

Inevitably there is always a baby crying its eyes out in these places. I think children have a gut feel that there is something wrong with the unemployment office. It is not really a place to go find work. It is a place to get money to survive while not being employed.

The poor overworked clerks are just trying to get the money for you and move on to the next poor soul.

In essence, I think that while there are some places in the city blessed by a spirit of place that is positive and wonderful, there are also places like the unemployment office and the HR department that are cursed.
I should blog about one of the most sacred places I’ve ever seen in the city, but that will wait for another day.

2008-08-16T07:13:00.008-05:00

It's stuff...

"Just let it go Jane, you will be freer without it" she said.... Don't you just hate it when your friends read you so well? Kim hasn't know me that long but she looked straight through the facade and did it, bless her. I was telling her that Kissane and I have decided to sell both of our cars now when they are in great shape and get one to share between us and a "I Go" car. Princess here balked at the idea of selling her beloved Saturn so quickly, I think it represented the idea of losing independence and more than a little security. Something I have been grappling with if I have cancer. Things seemed to be moving too fast, but as usual Kissane is is right and is giving up far more then I here as the "common" car will basically be mine to use for work, something required by my job as a public health nurse. It's stuff, let it go and let it buy Kissane and I some freedom.

Yesterday Kim and I had an interesting afternoon Kim was getting a new tattoo. She has several tattoos, I have none and have been talking myself out of getting one for probably 10-15 years. First it was the common needles, then the common paint pots, remember the RN thing. Well, I have no excuses now, the place she got hers at yesterday met all this nurses standards for clean technique and artistic merit. I sat with Kim while she got inked with a beautiful delicate flower that looks more like a photo than the usual tattoo. Years ago I purchased a painting from the Canadian Celtic artist David Rankine thinking if I ever found anyone who could do it safely it would grace my shoulder, if all goes simply in a month or so it probably will. Isn't it beautiful?
David Rankine

Warm and Fuzzy

While she was sitting in the chair having her shoulder decorated Kim and I talked, Stephen the artist was in his "zone". I was absolutely amazed at her lack of noticeable pain, she honestly said there was nearly none, but it was sore. She usually brings a fuzzy blue hoodie to Dr appointments and when she gets tattoos as a comfort measure, yes, I've seen it. Today she didn't bring it as she had me to keep her company, I was her hoodie today. That meant so much. She also told me she would be at the hospital with Patrick and I from minute one on the 27th and Ron will be there as soon as his plane lands that day. I'm speechless.

2008-08-13T15:57:00.015-05:00

No where to hide, your as exposed as it gets..

Have to admit it, I avoid looking at the keyboard, I'm a photog, a good one. One of the reasons is that I feel like I disappear when I'm behind the camera and truly become just part of the background. Most of the time my favorite subjects professional athletes are not even aware I am there, when I take the rare portrait it's usually a candid. I hide behind my camera, when I was a journeyman musician I hid behind my flute and a stage persona. I could play like a madwoman and sing back up like no tomorrow but sing alone, I felt too exposed. So I hid. Well, in the last couple of weeks life has intervened and I can't seem to hide now, the threat of cancer and a husband out of work is as exposed as it gets.

For me it all started with a couple of bladder infections my beloved Doc Ed looked at the lab results and said "hummm this doesn't make sense, I'm sending you to a specialist". The specialist a 35 year old Dougie Howzer boy genius type said "hummm it really doesn't make sense and you need a contrast CT. If something is going on in your pelvis that will show it." Thank you, Dougie it showed a 3.48 bifurcated cyst on my right ovary. It has lumps, bumps and all sorts of interesting things that had the next three docs looking at the CT and ultrasound saying concerning things. The most reassuring was, "your not going to know for sure unless that ovary comes out." Now that's reassuring. With each new Docs opinion I tell Kissane and he gets paler with each telling, I'm beginning to think this is harder on him than me. Now I'm an RN, a title I earned with pride, usually that means Registered Nurse although sometimes I joke it means Registered Neurotic, Ok, from now on it means the later.

It was a Friday night about 5:00 when the third Doc called, she is a Fellow and ultimately assist in my surgery. Kathy spends about a half an hour with me on the phone giving me the details of the mysteries of the ultra sound, options and what she thinks given my age. She alerts me to another possible problem found on the ultrasound and that they want to do a biopsy in the office before the surgery. Am I up to it? I've had them before and they hurt, I'm no wimp and I passed out the last two times. Yes, I'm game if I'm going to have surgery I want the team to have all the answers possible. When Kissane gets home I tell him I think it's best to go with surgery asap and he supports my decision.

Believe it or not we have a great romantic weekend!

Monday I call the docs, biopsy (joy) on Tuesday and full preop physical with Ed on Wed. Yes the biopsy hurts like hell, nearly pass out, I get home from it take a darvocet and crash for 14 hours. Drugs can be our friends. Wed at Ed's for the physical (I really love this guy) it goes really well. He does not tell me everything is going to be fine, instead he reassures me he thinks we are making good decisions and he will be here if we need him. Bless him, he has been keeping up with all my tests and studies via the hospital computer system. Everyone should be so blessed to have a primary care physician like this.

Woman plans and God says HA!
Thursday I have no appointments, no one is going to poke or prod me. All I want to do is sit in my jammies drink milky tea and watch TV until noon. Give myself a pedicure and go for a walk. It starts out fine, then at 10:00 Kissasne walks in looking ashen. "They laid me off". I honestly don't remember the next few moments clearly I might have started cussing too make all of my Irish Sea fishermen cousins proud, or at least those were the words I was thinking no matter what was coming out of my mouth.

The rest of the day Kissane is in the study networking, cleansing his computer of needed email addresses and basically harvesting everything he can from the work Dell. I'm emailing family and friends with the daily medical update and have the kicker of the news of Patrick's loss of his position. Somehow we get through the day.

Friday I get the news from Laura the surgical scheduler my surgery will not be until the August 27th.

Now I'm upset.

The 27th is the first day of school for me, it means I best case serino I will burn all of my sick days if things go simply and can be handled through the laproscope and are benign. If they have to go to an open procedure and things are still benign it will mean all my sick days and two weeks off without pay. If it's cancer...did I mention my husband was downsized yesterday and I'm about to pick up health care for the family? Laura gasps and tells me she will put me on the "waiting list" meaning if there is a cancellation they will rotate me in on the schedule. It is not easy scheduling two GYNs and an oncologist and they are adamant they want to work with this oncologist. Well, let's see what we can work out with work....

Why not me?

Kissane says I'm unusually calm about all of this.There is a bit of the duck on the mill pond, all calm on the top and paddling like hell underneath, I'll admit that.but right now there is not a lot that I can do. Cancer does not select it's hosts, it's luck of the draw, so why not me? Ovarian cancer is not one of the better cancers to have, outcome basically comes down to two factors: early diagnosis ie:size of the tumor and pathology. Ovarian cancer kills because there is no reliable screening test for it. Symptoms, nausea, bloating, weight gain or loss, diarrhea vague lower GI pain and being tired. All pretty general and easily ignored or attributed to stress, I know, I did. So I feel pretty good, why? The bastard is 3.48 cm most of the time they don't find ovarian tumors until at least 5 cm and often many times larger. Pathology, ain't go no control over that one..But the bottom line is I'm feeling the glass is 3/4 full here. If it is a two week bump or a full year one it's a bump in the road.

"it is the friends that you call at four o'clock in the morning that really matter." Marlene Dieterich

Through all of this the friends have been emailing,calling getting us drunk and happy. Ron and Kim our guardian angles, Barb despite spotty phone coverage is keeping in touch, Brian and our other Kim, tenants of 10 years something unheard of in Chicago,so many that have wished us well. Family members that have burned up phone lines letting us know we are not alone at this time. We are nothing without you.

I guess what I'm trying to say,thank you, life is good. I have the love of my life here and a beautiful daughter, I'm not leaving so these bumps better get used to dealing with us.
Powderhornhockey

2008-08-13T12:41:00.001-05:00

13 August 2008 My Good-bye

We are creatures of habit. For about 20 years, my habits have involved getting up early to assure delivery of the newspaper of the day: Wall Street Journals, Crain’s Chicago Business, Chicago Tribunes, Chicago Sun-Times, Daily Defenders, Daily Heralds and then the Chicago Tribunes again. From time to time, I may follow that path again, particularly in these early days as I struggle to gain a firm financial footing. But I can’t see myself retiring anymore in this field.

It is time to go.

Unfortunately, the company picked the moment to show me the door, before I had developed my escape plan fully. So, I have an unknown future.

Editorial will not be writing, nor will the Ink-stained Wretch, about how talent walked out the door Friday. And that is okay. Like the carrier on the street or the union driver, I’ve silently done my part, delivering news to people’s doorsteps. It is a simple act. It is an act that is critical to the final experience of many of subscribers. It is uncelebrated.

Consider, if you will, the consumer caring for their dying father. The 20 minutes spent reading the newspaper may be the only moment of peace for that individual. Or the farmer, two miles from the Illinois border and due south of the Kankakee River, our service is a link to a wider world.

How could you not love a business that allowed me to hear the roar of lions in the pre-dawn near the zoo or drive past a pheasant, waking to the cracking freeze of day? We spent summers climbing on the roof of my friend Roger’s Jeep, picking apples in Glenview, and winters throwing Wall Street Journals between gang bangers in Englewood. The stars shown bright, the snow was sometimes deep and I grew to love a warm bed after a winter route.

I loved talking to Casey on the night shift of the city desk. I loved the fact that security issued me a badge with a picture of Jim Belushi. I was horrified by seeing a decapitation late one night, fascinated by watching a foot chase near the United Center, tickled to tease a particular con-artist I nick-named the Reverend. (He is still out there, 20 years later, hustling).

I came into this business wounded from a poor career choice, a bad economy, a new-born baby to feed and a relationship headed for divorce court. I’m leaving after one of the best quarters ever—saving the company $1.3 million in hauling fees. The economy is still a mess, the baby is in college and I’m about to celebrate 10 years with my lover Jane.

I’m 51, feel and look 42 and have more respect for what can be done and what needs to be done. I’m ready. Good luck to you all.

2008-08-12T07:08:00.000-05:00

A new blog and a new explanation for why.

Coal Miner's Daughter had started as a project between my daughter and me to document my family and would involve them. However, the key person in that blog, my daughter, had her own things to do and so the blog never caught on. We just never posted to it.

However it has been a favorite name of mine for a blog. So, my wife and I decided this week to resuscitate it and use it to document and discuss, with each other and with our family and friends, the dual challenge we currently face.

Jane is undergoing surgery to investigate whether she has cancer of the ovaries. She and I were fortunate to have found it early. But this is a disease that has me worried, particularly because Jane, who is a bit of a hypochondriac, seems to be so calm about this thing.

On the other hand… I’m pretty god damn upset by it and usually these things don’t phase me.

The second challenge is that I was among the 60 people let go by the Chicago Tribune Co. on Friday. In the scheme of things, I’ll find other work. In the scheme of things I’m not as worried about this as I perhaps should be.

So, that’s a lot on our plates. The plan didn’t call for this. Even two weeks ago, we didn’t expect all of this. Life comes at you fast.

Coal Miner’s Daughter does not refer to my daughter. It actually refers to my mother, Catherine. She is the daughter of a coal miner. It also winks at the movie by that name. So with that acknowledgement, let’s go…