Coffee Harbor

Weighing Anchor in Colorado--a somewhat Bifurcated Heart.

2012-01-28T09:09:00.000-08:00

My wife and I have called Colorado "home" for the past 23+ years. We are in process of getting our lives resituated in a "location to be determined later".   Turns out that my wife has a health condition known as Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS--for short) which impacts her ability to enjoy everyday life and activity.  Also turns out that the POTS is made significantly more severe at high altitude.   So, we're in the process of moving to sea level, or near sea level where her enjoyment of life can be more 'normal'.

Colorado is where we have raised our kids and lived our lives with the inherent belief that we would pretty much stay put here. We have made great, deep and fun friendships here in Colorado--friendships that developed through work, neighborhood, church, kids' schools, and also a few precious random connections.   So many of these have developed into deep and meaningful friendships that we value greatly and we trust will survive the 'separation of miles' and last us the rest of our lives.

For several years, we have owned a place in Maine, so--at present--Maine is becoming the path of least resistance for a residential destination.  We've also made (and continue to make) good friends in Maine, but I am still getting adjusted to thinking of Maine as "home". I guess there is a "new normal" that will be developing over the next months (and maybe years) ahead.

One of my Maine friends reminded me that the reggae icon Bob Marley stated that "home" is "where you hang your hat".   My problem is that I have been hanging my hat in Colorado for so long that it just "feels" like home. And while I can drape my baseball cap over our halltree by the front door in Maine, Maine still feels like "the place we like to get away to".  The old addage that "home is where the heart is" fails me, as I'm finding I've developed a bit of a bifurcated heart.

So stay tuned.   Once we sell our home in Colorado, we'll be attempting to figure out where we hope to live out the next chapters of our life on this planet. We've had some ideas, but are trusting that we (my wife and I) will "both know" when we've hit upon the right situation and location, and we're also trusting that we can 'enjoy the journey'. (Sage advice from a Maine summer neighbor.)

My friend Mike finished off a dinner conversation this week with an admonition to me "give me something on Coffee Harbor"--so, Mike, there you go.

Health Care

2011-11-04T09:08:00.000-07:00

Healthcare: My Solution

Okay, guys, I think I’ve got it figured out. Healthcare really isn’t as complicated as people would have you believe.

Before you hear my plan, these are my assumptions:

1. People want to live as long as possible, be as active as possible, and live their lives as free of physical pain as possible. People feel this is among their God-given and government-insured ‘rights’.

2. Doctors want to make as much money as possible, have as much vacation time as possible, and not get sued. They charge people to give them assistance in perceiving that they will live longer, be active longer, and with less pain. Most Doctors do pretty well.

3. Insurance companies want to show a reasonable return on investment to their stockholders, while paying their executives hefty salaries for figuring out how to limit claims, settle lawsuits and generally keep their companies afloat. They charge people premiums (or charge people’s employers’ premiums) and offer the perception that they won’t have to worry about any future medical costs, regardless of their future health, or lack thereof. Most Insurance Companies and their executives are doing pretty well.

4. Lawyers want to be able to litigate for people who may have been poorly served or damaged by either their Doctor or their Hospital. They do that by suing Doctors, Hospitals and Insurance Companies for millions upon millions of dollars, and then keeping for themselves a hefty percentage of whatever millions they can get in settlement. Most medical malpractice attorneys are doing pretty well.
5. Expert witnesses are well compensated to support lawyer’s cases. They are smart people and ‘expert’ in their chosen field. There are expert witnesses who will testify for plaintiff’s case, and there are opposing expert witnesses (who are equally 'expert') that will testify in support the defense’s case. There are lots of Expert witnesses who get paid a lot of money to support whatever side is willing to pay them to support their case. And they, too, are doing pretty well.

6. Doctors take out expensive malpractice insurance to guard against greedy lawyers suing them and taking all their assets, toys, homes and cars. Hospitals also take out this insurance. In that way, when the lawyers bring a case to litigation, they really aren’t so much suing the doctors and hospitals, as negotiating a settlement with the malpractice insurance providers. The insurance companies retain in-house attorneys to settle cases for large amounts of money. Usually, they want to avoid the risk of taking the litigation to court and having to pay even larger amounts of money because a jury was swayed by expert witnesses.

7. Congress wishes to take control the above players and process. They think they can save money by increasing the ‘access’ to healthcare and make everyone’s costs go down. They believe they can do this because they are pretty sure that they are smarter than the rest of us.

Congress doesn’t wish to be covered by the plan that they’d create for the rest of us. They’re too smart for that. Most folks in Congress are doing pretty well.

8. Lobbyists are people paid to influence Congress. Many of the highest paid lobbyists are former elected officials. They are paid by groups of professionals, public corporations, affinity groups, and special interests to influence your elected representatives to get legislation favorable to their clients’ interests. If you want to get anything done in Washington, you have to hire a lobbyist. Lobbyists are also doing pretty well.

Okay, for the most part, the above is the cast of characters and interests that been at odds with each other, have, over the years, entrenched and preserved their greedy self-interests, and have generally mucked up the US Health Care System to date.
My new and improved healthcare plan:
Have congress pass a law or series of laws that establishes a comprehensive healthcare plan that they (and their families) are willing to be covered by, and that they have to pay for out of their own pockets. Then we’ll see how smart they really are. Should they succeed, I would bet it would be a plan we could all live with.
In the meantime,
Let’s tell people they can’t expect to live forever, pain-free, and cost-free;

Let’s tell Doctors they maybe could survive on a little less money, or a little less vacation time;

Let’s tell Insurance companies they can lower our premiums, because Congress is going to cap malpractice settlements.

Let’s cap malpractice settlements, and also limit the fees that attorneys can be paid for representing plaintiffs in such cases.

And let’s make ‘lobbyists’ wait in the lobby. Or maybe we should just shoot them on site. In this way, our elected representatives would have more time to listen to the voices of their actual constituents.

And let’s elect representatives whose only interests are for their country and the constituents that elected them. I am hoping people like that still exist.

Summer-ing in Maine

2011-08-29T07:26:00.000-07:00

In the past, it has seemed to me to be torturing the language a bit when I've heard people say "We're 'winter-ing' in Arizona, or we're 'summer-ing' on the Cape". However this year, it sounds like perfect linguistic syntax for me to say "We're summer-ing in Maine". (We might be 'fall-ing' here as well.)

We're located on Mount Desert Island, which makes up the bulk of the territory comprising Acadia National Park. The topography created by the collision of ocean with fir-covered granite coastline is stunning. Enjoying the area by boat allows us to take full advantage of the beauty that surrounds.

This is the first summer in several that we've had our boat in the water. We had not been able to put together much time here in the last few years. Life and family simply didn't cooperate. But this year, we have been able to pull it off.

It has been something of a challenge getting re-acquainted with our boat. But we're enjoying the journey and day by day getting back 'up to speed' on the boating equipment and procedures that had become a little hazy for us at the start of the season.

So. Just wanted to report in and confirm that we're alive and enjoying our Maine summer. And our dog--Buffie--has even joined us in plying the high seas. She put up with the whole thing pretty well, but I think she was glad to get back on terra firma.

More later.

My Dad 9/22/19 -- 6/11/11

2011-06-20T13:29:00.000-07:00

Earlier in May, I spent a couple of weeks getting my parents moved into assisted living. It was a hard couple of weeks for me, but it seemed to be "the time" for such a move. I returned home to Colorado and, one week later, I got a call that my dad had suffered a massive stroke. I was told that he would not live beyond 24-48 hours.

My brother and I flew home to Rockford the next morning to be with our mother and attend to what needed to be attended to. In spite of the original 'prognosis' of death within a day or two, dad lasted another week. He never regained consciousness, but he did appear to respond to the squeezing of his hand.

He was a very sweet man, a true gentleman, wonderful father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. He instinctively knew how to communicate unconditional love to his family, and he was a faithful friend to many. Love you so much, dad.

Memorial Day Observance

2011-05-30T08:24:00.000-07:00

This Memorial Day weekend, I am reminded of six and a half years ago when a friend and I took our WWII veteran dads to Washington DC to visit the WWII Memorial. The dads were both celebrating 85th birthdays, and my friend and I looked forward to honoring them and celebrating with them.

I expected to enjoy the trip and the 'dad time', but I didn't anticipate being moved so deeply. As we toured the Memorial, on several occasions people would ask the dads if they were vets of 'the big war’. When our dads responded that they were, people would shake their hands and say "thank you". Men and women in uniform would stand at attention and offer a salute along with a few words of "thank you for your service".

During preparation for a tour of the Capitol building, the tour guide singled the dads out, confirmed their WWII vet status, and recognized them for their service. Upon being recognized, the whole tour group of maybe 75-100 people gave the dads a spontaneous standing ovation.

My friend and I got to hear our dads exchange war stories that we'd probably never otherwise have heard. These old soldiers and so many others endured more than we’ll ever know in service to their country. They, along with their 'brothers in arms' literally changed the world for the better.

The Greatest Generation, indeed! We owe them much.

Have a great Memorial Day.

Brief update from the breakdown lane...

2011-05-23T19:20:00.000-07:00

I have spent the last week or so getting my folks moved into assisted living. They are moved and settled, thanks to help from my brother as well as the fine folks at 'Two Men and a Truck'. My brother flew back to Atlanta on Wednesday morning, and now I am stuck with getting all the leftover stuff dealt with. I hate it. I feel like I've fallen into quicksand and I can't get up....and the more I try to extricate myself, the deeper I sink in. I held a garage sale to try to move some of my folks' junk. I HATE garage sales. They are by far my least favorite way to spend a Saturday. And last night during a wave of severe weather, we lost power here at the 'move out' location. Power is still off as I write. Depressing. Can't wait to finish the task at hand and hit the road. I miss my wife. I miss my life. Glad to help, and glad that my folks are getting some 'assist' to their living situation. But where is the assist for my sorry situation. Oh well, this too shall pass. It's just got to.

Assisted Living, here we come.

2011-04-25T11:02:00.000-07:00

My folks are slowing down.

At their ages (soon to be 92 and 93), I guess they’ve earned that privilege.

Until recently, they have managed pretty well to live independently, but last week I made the call to see if we couldn’t get them into ‘assisted living’ as soon as possible.

Over the last several years, my parents have functioned fairly adequately with a mutually dependent, symbiotic relationship.

While my mom has had her share of physical limitations and challenges, she has remained fairly sharp mentally. She has occupied herself with many of the ‘details’ of their lives: keeping track of appointments, balancing the checkbook, etc.

My dad has suffered from memory loss, and was diagnosed with ‘early stage Alzheimer’s’ a couple of years ago. In spite of this, until recently he has been relatively clear mentally and very good physically.

So, the way the relationship has worked, is dad has been doing the physical ‘heavy lifting’, and mom has been telling him ‘what to lift’ and ‘where to set it down’. While that ‘symbiotic’ relationship has been working in the past, the future seems a little more problematic.

Dad’s Alzheimer’s seems to be taking a firmer grip on his cognitive skills and he appears more mixed up, more often and with a deeper level of confusion. I know it is not going to go away. And mom’s formerly clear thinking also seems to be becoming a little more muddy. She can’t hear well at all, so its difficult to determine how much of her ‘muddy thinking’ is mis-communication due to her not hearing, and how much is just otherwise muddy.

An indication of Mom’s lapse in ‘sharpness’ has been her ongoing self-delusion that Publisher’s Clearing House is getting close to sending her a check for “millions”. Her expectations for her ‘big payday’ have been so real to her that she has obsessed about out how to divvy-up that money between her kids, grandkids and great-grandkids.

My only brother lives in Atlanta, so we each live about 1000 miles away from our parents. And, as life has worked out, none of the grandkids live any closer to my folks than my brother and I do. Any of us who would want to help have difficulty due to the distances involved.

So, we’re working at getting them set up in assisted living. It will be a new stage for them and for us, but I’ve finally recognized that this season of their lives has arrived.

Thought for the Day

2011-02-21T08:02:00.000-08:00

"Ever notice how your 'profound thoughts' appear downright puny when you attempt to commit them to the written word?"

What is wrong with this picture?

2011-02-19T12:47:00.001-08:00

Several weeks ago, I was listening to Radio Station WRKO 680, a conservative talk station serving Boston, MA. At the top of the hour, the local newscaster led their newsbreak with the following story:

“The struggling Lawrence (MA) Fire Department will receive a $6.62 million Staffing for Adequate Fire and Emergency Response Grant from the United States government that will allow the city to rehire all of its laid-off firefighters and even add new positions.

The grant, which will be paid over two years, will allow Lawrence to rehire the 23 firefighters laid off since June and to employ 15 more to replace those who have retired recently or have left on disability, according to a report in the Boston Globe.”

The report explained that this was a federal grant issued by the Department of Homeland Security. Homeland Security!

It seems foolish and short-sighted to throw federal tax money at such a purely local problem. The Lawrence city fathers had apparently acted in a fiscally responsible manner in attempting to live within their budget by reducing expenses and personnel. The Feds, however, aren’t afflicted with the same conscience about living within budgetary constraints. Homeland Security (which I mistakenly thought had something to do with keeping us safe from terrorists) turned on the spigot and came to the rescue with resources not only to re-hire the laid off workers, but to employ 15 more!

I wonder what will happen in two years when this funding runs out?
And why don’t I feel any safer from terrorists?

A Christmas Story

2010-12-18T10:08:00.001-08:00

This “Christmas Story” is something I witnessed last summer. I call it a “Christmas Story” because, although it didn’t take place during the Christmas Season, I suspect it took place because of Christmas and all that the advent of Christmas inspires.

• • •

I had stopped at a rest stop along Interstate 25, near Ft. Collins, Colorado. It was about dusk, and I needed to use the facilities before I completed the two hour drive home.

As I parked my car, I noticed an obviously homeless man and his dog. From the look of the way he had arranged his worldly possessions, it was apparent to me that he had made his camp for the night in the lee of the rest stop that I intended to use. He displayed a sign that read “Hungry man and dog. Please Help. Thank you.”

I did my best to make sure my eyes didn’t meet his while I made my way into the rest stop. I was careful to keep my distance as much as possible as I entered the building, used the facilites, and made my way back to my car.

I have to admit, I felt a subtle resentment for the homeless man. I was thinking thoughts like “Why does he have to park himself here…why can’t he take better care of his dog…why can’t he get a job…he’s in my way.”

• • •

About the same time I had pulled into the parking area, another car had also arrived. This car was an older, beat up blue Chevrolet Monza with Montana license plates. I observed that the car was driven by a young woman, traveling with a newborn baby, two older children, and dog. I wondered what circumstances would have her traveling without the company of another adult, so far away from home, so late in the day.

This woman’s older kids (a boy of eight or nine years old, and a girl aged five or six) had also used the facilities, at about the same time that I did. The woman had waited in her car with the newborn and her dog.

I took note to make sure the homeless man didn’t bother the children as they traversed the grassy area between the parking area and the rest stop. They returned safely to their mother’s car about the same time I returned to mine. I felt some relief that ‘homeless man’ and his dog had not ‘been a problem’. After all, I am a ‘pretty good guy’ and wanted to make sure that the children remained safe from ‘homeless man’.

• • •

I continued to observe the little family as I prepared to depart the rest stop area. I was busy adjusting my seat belt and locating a radio station to take me the next stretch of my journey, when I noticed something that I will remember for a long time.

From the beat up blue car with the Montana plates, the young boy emerged and made his way back toward the homeless man. In his hands, he held a couple of slices of bread which his mother had apparently made into some sort of sandwich. He brought it to the homeless man and offered it to him. The young girl followed her older brother, carrying a small bag of dog food which she used to fill the dish of the homeless man’s dog. She also appeared to give the man a few coins.

I could see the reaction of ‘homeless man’ and his dog, appearing grateful for the gifts of the children and their mother. ‘Homeless’ nodded his head and waved at the mother, as the dog joined in with a grateful wag of its tail.

I continued to observe the mother in her car, holding her young baby and watching her older children minister to this homeless man. I noticed, for the first time, a well worn pink leather Bible on her dashboard. And I thought to myself “she really gets it”.

The sad irony did not escape me. I am ‘comfortable’, yet didn’t wish to be ‘bothered’.
She appeared to me to be ‘needy’, yet she gave. I remain humbled by this little scene. And, as I look back on this some six months later, I realize that I witnessed firsthand a small picture of what Christmas is really about.

• • •

“I was hungry and you fed me,
I was thirsty and you gave me a drink,
I was homeless and you gave me a room,
I was shivering and you gave me clothes,
I was sick and you stopped to visit,
I was in prison and you came to me.”

• • •

“Jesus called his disciples over and said, "The truth is that this poor widow gave more to the collection than all the others put together. All the others gave what they'll never miss; she gave extravagantly what she couldn't afford — she gave her all."

(Matt 25:35,36 and Mark 12:43-44 from THE MESSAGE: The Bible in Contemporary Language © 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson. All rights reserved.)

Listen with your....eyes.

2010-07-03T09:01:00.000-07:00

I recall a certain Sunday morning breakfast, that took place many years ago. I was enjoying a cup of "morning wake up" coffee (actually, most likely a series of cups of coffee) and reading the morning paper as we sat around the breakfast table.

Our youngest, Jamie, was sitting next to me. At the time, he was about 4 years old.
(He is pictured at left, at approximately that age).

Jamie wanted to tell me something, and said "Daddy, listen to me."
Without bothering to put down the paper, I replied "I AM listening, Jamie..". He replied, "Daddy, listen with your eyes!".

He wasn't satisfied with just a little passing attention. He needed full frontal, in your face, eye contact. He craved and deserved to have my full attention, not just a little sliver of my still somwehat sleepy brain. He launched a little dagger, straight to my heart. There apparently remains to this day some scar tissue of regret from the wound that little dagger inflicted on my heart.

I did put down the paper, and, looking him squarely in the eyes I said "Okay, Jamie, I am listening..." (with my ears, my eyes, AND my brain).

James (f.k.a "Jamie") moved away this week. Out of the house, out of town, and away from our direct influence.

Jackie and I are now, officially, 'empty nesters', for the first time. Empty Nesters. Kind of a 'bittersweet' feeling.

We've had other times when all three kids were out of the house, but it was different as they were away at school or some situation where we knew that they would return home to live. But this is different, as all the childhood bedrooms have been vacated...and the old school days memorabilia for each of the three has been boxed up and put in the store room (no doubt, to be thrown away at some later date).

But as I wax nostalgic on the 'good old days' of having the kids at home, I wonder how many times I didn't "listen with my eyes" to each of the kids. I regret any times they didn't get my full attention, because they always deserved that and so much more.

New Computer Blues

2010-06-10T10:01:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, I just long for 'the good ol' days'. Simpler times. Less gadgetry to misfire. Less electronic clutter in my life.

My desktop computer has been dying. I bought a replacement computer a few weeks ago, but until this week, I have been hesitant to start transferring files and re-installing programs. I dread this as there are so many opportunities to screw things up. But I am doing it and it is a slow, laborious process. I've been backing everything up to an external hard drive for the last three or four days. And, with any luck, the backup may be complete later this evening. Then I can plug the external drive into my new computer and attempt to "retrieve" the digital flotsam and jetsam has been saved to the external drive. It occurs to me that I'm just continuing to save all the old e-mails that I couldn't decide to delete (thousands of them), and also all the old pictures that I never quite went through to organize, and tons of old documents that "might come in handy" someday. I should just start from scratch.

Got news a couple of weeks ago that an old and dear friend passed away unexpectedly. Never easy news to receive, but this one was a real shocker. He was one of my best friends, our history going back more than 40 years. Even though he had experienced some health issues the last couple of years, he appeared to be doing better. And I looked forward to seeing him "next time". Now that "next time" won't happen, at least not in this life. I'll miss his laughter and his detailed recollections of our shared high school years (his recall for this stuff was very specific--much better than my own). Rest In Peace, my friend.

Inappropriately Filling in the Blanks

2010-05-26T17:16:00.000-07:00

So, as the story goes, a friend of mine got me involved with some grant writing and fundraising to help raise funds for a capital project for a local non-profit. I kind of got into it, working in tandem with the Chairman of the Board.

After putting in quite a bit of sweat and heart into this project, the "Chairman" and I jointly went to do discuss and submit proposal before a local foundation that grants hundreds of thousands of dollars a year to worthy projects. I loved the time spent in the presentation and thought it went well. When we got out, the "Chairman" and I each headed to our cars. He said "I'll call you to 'debrief' and figure out our next move."

That sentence was followed by approximately eleven months of silence. Lots of blanks for me to fill in.

The way that I filled in the blanks was to assume that my participation was no longer wanted, or needed. And I figured he decided that he needed to cut me from this project, but didn't have the guts (not the first word I thought of) to face me and "fire me" from this volunteer work.

So, in response to the silence and the lack of any input, I got mad. I decided I didn't care about this project, felt hurt by my "non-verbal dismissal", and decided that if I ever saw this "Chairman" again, it would be too soon. The "Chair" and I share several friends, so I kept this all to myself so as not to get others involved . I just wanted to shake the dust from my feet from this chapter of my life.

I pretty much did that, until one day my cell rang and...low and behold, it was "Mr. Chairman" wanting to get together on the grant-writing and fundraising project. I told him that I was mad at him and wasn't really sure that I cared about his project any more. We agreed to get together over coffee (tea) and talk.

Turns out he had been busy and had decided the fundraisinig could be put off for awhile, as the specific project that needs the funding was still a ways off. Meanwhile, he was overworked trying to get a new business off the ground and also finish up a dissertation for a PhD that he's been working toward. He apologized for "not being very good at communicating."

For every "blank" that was left by the lapsed dialogue, I had filled in each and every one in negative way. I had interpreted "silence" as "rejection".

But I was wrong. While he wasn't very good at communicating, I certainly was equally inept at interpreting silence. Just a little "life lesson" to myself.

Too much drywall in my life.

2010-04-10T11:38:00.000-07:00

Its been a couple of months since my last post, and I apologize. Sometimes, there's so little to report, in spite of being 'busy'. I have wearied myself with travel, taxes, and tyranny (our present government). Travel was good, but it takes some time to recover and reorient. Taxes are something that I loathe. In addition to having to 'ante up', I am so disorganized that I think it takes me four or five times as long as it should take to track down documents and receipts to send off to my accountant.

And, on the tyranny front, I am deeply disappointed that our governmental leaders passed that abomination of a health care bill. And, then, as if that weren't enough, we've got to have Obama out roaming the countryside trying to "sell" the populace on how much we'll like it. Kind of like being forced to buy a used car, and then having the salesman keep showing up at your house and telling you how much you're going to enjoy actually driving the car. Just get out of my life.

Whine, whine, whine.

We've got to figure out what our summer plans are. This should be a fairly straightforward and enjoyable thing to do, but somehow we are drawn (pulled, yanked) in so many opposing and sometimes conflicting directions. It doesn't help at all that our Grandchildren are 1700 miles away, and our three children have located without giving any apparent consideration to the geographic location of their parental units. Our daughter Sarah is pretty firmly rooted in Boston, our son Sean is making Los Angeles his home, and our youngest, James, once he extricates himself from our basement, plans to move to Fort Collins in July.

Anyway, just thought I should check in, even though this is basically a 'nothing to report' report. I wish I had the creative juices flowing and could ramble on about the musings of life. I've got some very creative and well written blogs that I follow, and sadly...this one pales by comparison. Maybe I've just had too much drywall in my life.

Julian slides into home plate. Safe!

2010-02-05T07:50:00.000-08:00

On Thursday, January 28, our daughter, Sarah, and her husband, Andrew, delivered our second grandchild, and little brother to their three-year-old, Henry. Jackie and I spent most of the month on the East coast, awaiting the pending arrival. Expected due date had been January 18th, so it was a long month. Here's the story.

Sarah and Andrew were planning on using a "Birthing Center" connected with a local hospital in Beverly, MA (where they live). Sarah called us at 6am and said "I think this is the day...can you come by about 7 or 7:30 to pick up Henry?" I said fine. In about five minutes, Andrew called back saying come as quickly as you can. I told him I was already standing there in my coat with a cup of coffee in hand, just waiting for Jackie to finish getting ready. We left quickly and turned a normal half hour drive into about 20 minutes (without getting arrested).

We called Andrew a couple of times along the way, so they could get themselves ready to head for the hospital, and I assumed that when we pulled up in front of their house, that they'd be getting into their car. However, we found an apparently very (ridiculously) relaxed Andrew, still in his pajamas, preoccupied with making toast for Henry. He greeted us like "no worries, all is well, stay as long as you want before taking off with Henry.."

After a few more minutes of toast monitoring, Andrew went upstairs and came back down rather quickly, still in his PJ’s, and said “maybe it would be good if you took off now”. So we got Henry into his jacket, and put him in the carseat and took off for some breakfast and other planned adventures. While we were leaving, Andrew was on the phone informing the Birth Center that they were on their way and he was also calling the Midwife, telling her that they were getting close…

Because Sarah’s labor with Henry had been quite long (like 32 hours), she and Andrew (and us) all expected a long day. However, shortly after we had finished breakfast at the restaurant, we got a call saying Julian had been born.

The rest of the story is that Sarah gave birth to Julian at home, and unassisted! No exaggeration.

While we were downstairs, watching Andrew prepare toast, Sarah was upstairs in deep labor, with the baby rounding third and heading for home. When Andrew went upstairs (after the toast preparation), Sarah told him that the baby's head was crowning and to go make the calls and get to the Hospital. (That’s when he told us to scram..).

When he made the calls, the Midwife suggested that Andrew call 9-1-1 and request an ambulance. We only saw Andrew on the phone as we left, unaware until later that he was dialing 9-1-1. Had we known that, we probably wouldn't have been capable of prying ourselves away.

So…we took off with Henry, happy grandparents off on an adventure with their (for the moment) only grandchild.

Andrew goes back upstairs to see how Sarah is doing, and she is holding Julian in her arms and starting to nurse him. Andrew was rightfully blown away…and within seconds, he hears a fire truck pull up (followed in short order by the ambulance he'd expected). The firemen carried Sarah and Julian down to the ambulance, and the ambulance took mother and baby to the hospital for assessment, paperwork, etc. All was well, mother and baby quite healthy, if not a bit tired.

Turns out that the “calm Andrew making toast for Henry” was not quite the disconnect that I had interpreted. Henry had seen Sarah in deep labor and kind of freaked out. Andrew was trying to calm him down and make him think things were routine and there was nothing to worry about….

Anyway, interesting and memorable day for all concerned.

2009 is Winding Down.

2009-12-29T21:12:00.000-08:00

I have been reading Christmas letters and various e-mails from old friends as people reconnect at the end of the calendar year, and I've been struck with the realization that 'change' is in the air. Oh, that wouldn't be the kind of change that our President promised to deliver. It would be more the 'stage of life' changes creeping up on 'my g-g-genration' that get delivered whether we welcome those changes or not.

In the various communications that have crossed my path this month, I've been surprised to see the 'Christmas Letters' and 'year end notes' have morphed into 'health updates' of sorts. Less bragging on the kids' achievements, and more discussion of surgeries, illnesses, etc.

2010 will be the year that I can't continue to see myself as "in my 50's" anymore. And it would appear that my contemporaries are starting to show some wear and tear. One friend, who had a heart bypass surgery a couple years back writes of his newly diagnosed heart disease and how he will have to change his regimen. Another friend wrote of finding himself in the hospital with blood clots in both lungs (and this after having hip replacement surgery). Another friend of mine is no longer able to use his legs after botched back surgery. Another friend is facing potential liver transplant. And another has had thyroid trouble and cataract surgery. And another couple of friends are struggling with cancer. Tough stuff.

And all these folks are people in their late 50's or so. I am pretty sure we thought it couldn't happen to "us"--we're young, smart, healthy, upwardly mobile, or at least mobile. I believe we kind of expected it would stay that way indefinitely.

But, apparently, such is not the case. We have to adapt to new realities. And we have to make our course adjustments as we steer for the home harbor.

I am thankful for the good health enjoyed at present, and the blessings of life in general.

What a Mess--My Healthcare Rant

2009-11-02T10:37:00.000-08:00

According to recent polling data, 66.4% of Americans disapprove of the job the US Congress is doing, while 24.8% approve. I wonder who those 'approvers' are. I am certainly not among them.

When a proposed health care bill weighs in at nearly 2,000 pages, I just have to scratch my head and say “what a mess”. Couldn't the folks in Washington come up with something that is a little more 'focused' and 'to the point'. This rambling piece of proposed legislation would take a reasonable person nearly 200 hours to READ, and considerably more time to comprehend and contemplate the implications of the proposed legislation.

The bill contains, among other things:

Scholarships for Veterinary Medicine and loan repayment assistance for people practicing Veterinary Medicine. Give me a break. Isn’t this supposed to be about health care reform for humans?

The bill proposes a tax on wheelchairs and other medical equipment. Hello? How does that help bring costs down?

The bill contains no Medical Liability reform. NONE. In my amateur opinion, this is the largest contributing factor to the high cost of health care and health insurance. In fact, this bill contains an incentive for states to repeal any Medical Liability Reform that they’ve already passed. This bill proposes to give money to states that don’t have liability reform bills that would limit attorney fees or impose caps on damages. Wonder who was instrumental in getting that little “add-on”.

This health care bill is a prime example of what I object to in terms of the way special interests influence legislation. The resulting legislation, if passed, will affect us all and be a financial burden on this country for generations to come .

This proposed legislation is a mess, and should be thrown out with the trash. And the self-serving politicians responsible for it should be thrown (voted) out as well. ASAP!

Sometimes its knowing what you don't know....

2009-09-24T09:52:00.000-07:00

One thing that proved to be something of an “aha!” moment for me happened back when we were putting Channel 39 on the air in Rockford. It was an enormous challenge for me. I had no experienced ‘mentor’ or anybody I could lean on for wise counsel and my experience level in television was not that deep. I had a little experience—but, in hindsight, precious little. Yet I had been tasked with getting a new, small market, independent television station up and running. I needed advice on everything from technical stuff, to personnel, to programming to a ‘strategy’ to allow the thing to survive, and ultimately thrive.

To complicate the task, I was surrounded people who were not the best equipped to get the station up and running--some better than others--but a quirky lot at best. My only advice from the owner of the station--my nepotistic Uncle Marvin-- was to keep expenses low…and I wasn’t even sure what “low” was (such a relative term). And also “keep the ball rolling…” (his other consistent piece of advice).

So, since I realized that I had no idea how to approach what I was supposed to be doing, I resorted to the following: I would call people up—TV station people—in other markets, all over the country. I would just be honest, open and painfully vulnerable. I had to be willing to flaunt my inexperience, and say. “ I’m trying to do ‘thus and so’ and I have no idea how to even think about it…what would you do?” I asked open-ended questions. I asked multiple-choice questions. I found people were genuinely very helpful and supportive and willing to give as much time and advice and help as I was willing to accept. Sometimes, I’d have to call them back and say “you know that part where you said…. I don’t remember why you said that.” Or “what if this is our situation…would you still advise the same way”.

Channel 39 survived and prospered, not because of what I knew and was able to implement, but because I was willing to admit what I didn’t know—had no clue about.
I was painfully aware of what I didn’t know, it forced me to humble myself and just tell people who were my would-be peers, in essence, ‘I’ve got no clue what I’m supposed to be doing here…or how to approach this’…and sit back, listen, take advice, learn things, ask more questions, acquire facts and contacts and ideas, and then proceed to put those things into practice in the new venture.

It is not always what you know that counts, but being willing to accept and admit what you don’t know, and then proceed ahead.

Family, family...

2009-08-17T23:06:00.000-07:00

What is better than family and the experiencing of just general 'unconditional love'. This is my son and grandson....James is uncle to my grandson...and Henry is the great grandson to my parents, He is the nephew to my sons...the grandson to Roger and Jackie and Marcia and Me...several other genetic and love-bound relationships to eachother...which I could expound upon, were I of sufficient capacity to make the relationships coherent and cogent...but...this is the stuff of life...connected by marriage and birth and DNA and histories....love conquers all.. that's my best guess...

Old friends rediscovered and re-appreciated.

2009-07-28T10:52:00.000-07:00

This picture is from a gig an old friend of mine--Phil--did with Emmylou Harris this summer at Telluride. Seeing him on Sunday morning hanging with Emmy and her new grandbaby kind of blew me away. They looked so—stinkin'—comfortable. She the ‘superstar’ and he, the casual friend from Wheaton (Taylor, actually) that I had totally lost track of.

Back in college days, we used to hack around a bit and make some music. I think I’ve still got an audio tape (somewhere) of him and me jammin’ on a campus radio station (another friend had a radio program and we went down and did some live music). My friend, Phil, was on piano and I was on guitar. When I had listened to a replay of that tape (like 35 years ago), I recognized that Phil's (superior) playing had elevated my (pedestrian) playing. I was impressed with how good…I sounded. I already knew he was good. But his talent encouraged my playing.

And that’s the way it should be in life.

We should elevate each other’s playing…and each other’s lives.

At any rate, I’m glad to have re-connected with Phil.

Low Tide in Bass Harbor

2009-07-21T17:54:00.000-07:00

Well, all those pretty Maine scenes you picture--those scenes with the colorful harbors populated with sailboats and workboats tugging at their moorings and anxious to shed their docklines, ready to head off to play hard or work even harder, with sun sparkling off the water and fluffy white clouds dancing overhead--those scenes change dramatically at low tide--at least they do here in Bass Harbor.

At low tide, I would guess something like three quarters of the area of this harbor turns into mud flats. And that ain't so scenic. Not the kind of scene that you would capture for a postcard and write home to brag about where you'd been.

If your boat is a serious boat, whether serious about work or play, you've secured a properly located mooring or dock space where there's still plenty of water under your keel, and you can ride out low tide with little worry or inconvenience. The mud won't bother you. However lots of casual boats sit the low tide out, literally stuck in the mud.

This tide thing is also true of our lives. We live our lives in the midst of high tides and low tides, with some sense of symmetry and an acquired recognition that some days are better than others. But in our reporting (about our vacations, and our lives) there is the temptation to report only about our high tides, sunny days, and brightly colored harbors. We tend to share less about the gray days spent at low tide, stuck in the mud.

When you're stuck in the mud, at least you don't need to worry about dragging anchor and going aground. You're there and most likely will stay there until the tide starts to come in.

So, you know what's coming. Enjoy the anticipation of your ride back to the next high tide. Its making its way.

One Cool Little Guy

2009-07-12T08:07:00.000-07:00

Saw Henry this week and is he ever becoming one cool little guy. His parents aren't bad, either. But I was definitely impressed with how much he's putting pieces together and figuring things out.

When I first arrived and got out of the car, Henry was outside playing. As I got out of the car to greet him, I was wearing my sunglasses and a Boston Red Sox hat (in addition to other appropriate attire). His first words to me were, "Take off your glasses so you can see me."

I was blown away. That was the most coherent linkage of words I'd ever heard out of that precious little mouth.

Then he followed that with a very observant, "You've got a "B" on your hat." (which I did and do..in support of the aforementioned local Baseball Club and their fanatical fans, some of which I am related to either by blood or marriage).

Henry, his mom and I went out for a quick picnic lunch at Lynch Park in Beverly. We brought with us this little wooden bike that Henry's folks bought for him.

I am pleased to report that Henry has completely mastered the delicate art of small wooden bike riding. He scoots around on it as though he were flying. At full speed, one leg is semi retracted, and the other is used for propulsion, in a scooter-like kick fashion. Over grass, over pavement, through throngs of gawking admirers, Henry whizzes by in a blur of blue 'safety helmet'. At the age of two and a half, he cuts quite a striking little figure.

At any rate, I'm a fan.

Hoisting Anchor in Colorado, Heading for Maine

2009-07-07T11:49:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow morning I hop a flight to Boston, and then drive up to Bass Harbor, Maine.

The flight is about four hours. The car trip is about five and a half hours. This trip, Jackie's staying home, tending to the sheep, goats, and dogs. Someday soon, we hope to spend some extended time in the magical, beautiful area on and around Mount Desert Island.

Our plan was, you see, to spend four or five months a year 'in residence' in Maine. That's why we bought our little place. We had expectations of sparkling Maine summers poking around near the shore, sailing on the ocean, and hiking the lush trails of New England. And we looked forward to sharing brilliant autumn days in Maine.

We appreciate the falls in New England not only for their beauty, which can be beyond comparison, but because the transition from Summer to Winter is so gentle and soft and extended. Fall in Colorado can be spectacular, but the season tends to be 'abrupt'. Fall in Colorado is very localized and usually lasts about a week in any given location. Then the aspens lose their leaves and it snows.

However, rather than spending 'quality time' together enjoying friends, family, and each other (as we had hoped), our Maine time tends to be busy with 'tending to things'. Everything from maintenance on our place to Annual Meetings of the HOA, to getting the place prepared for some seasonal rentals (so that we can afford to keep the place).

For the most part, we've only stolen a week here and a couple of weeks there. Last fall, we did manage nearly a month and it was wonderful.

Someday, we're going to figure out our lives, set our priorities, and work to achieve a slightly simpler, and less scattered life.

Our first home, our first mortgage

2009-07-02T08:04:00.000-07:00

This morning I was listening to a 'Podcast' from NPR's "Planet Money" and the discussion was about mortgages and how nobody these days anticipates ever actually paying off a mortgage. Apparently, when one takes out a mortgage, the assumption is that the homeowners will either a) move, or b) refinance long before the mortgage ever matures and is paid off.

This got me thinking wistfully about our first home in Galena, Illinois. We purchased it in early 1977 shortly after we were married. When we started to contemplate moving out of our apartment and becoming 'homeowners', I had no idea what to do or how to even think about doing it. I didn't really even understand what a mortgage was.

We were working in Dubuque, Iowa and decided to look for a house in nearby Galena, Illinois.
I stopped in to the First National Bank of Galena and told the receptionist that I wanted to talk to someone about buying a house. She took me to the back of the bank and introduced me to "Mr. Beuning". Mr. Beuning was in his late 60's with a full compliment of white hair, was probably six foot-something and looked to weigh in at maybe 140 pounds. He was fastidioulsy dressed in very 'banker-ly' three piece suit, white shirt & tie. Turns out Mr. Buening was the bank's President.

I told him that we had just gotten married and thought maybe we wanted to buy a house, but didn't know much about the process or whether we should even be thinking such thoughts. He asked a few general questions and then just said "why don't you go find a house you think you want to buy and then come back and see me."

So we did. We found the house at 732 Dewey Avenue in Galena (pictured above) and I went back to see Mr. Buening. He asked if we'd made an offer on the house and I told him that we had. He said, "Well, why don't we meet over there next Tuesday. I'd like to go through the place with you."

We met him as scheduled on Tuesday and he remarked that he remembered the house from when he was a boy and it had been well preserved and nicely updated. After a 'walk thru' and some small talk with my wife and me and the Realtor, Mr. Buening said goodbye and then offered, "Our loan committee meets tomorrow morning. Call me in the afternoon, I should have an answer for you."

As my wife drove off in one direction and the Realtor drove off in another, I stood there contemplating what Mr. Buening had just said...that their "loan committee" was going to give us an answer the very next day. All of a sudden, it occurred to me that Mr. Buening had precious little information about us. I had not so much as filled out a scrap of paper with my social security number on it. He'd have almost nothing to give to the loan committee so that they could make their decision.

I went back to the bank and Mr. Buening seemed surprised to see me. I said, "Mr. Buening, I just thought you might need to know more about us. You've never asked for our social security numbers, how much money we make, any credit references--NOTHING! I just thought I could give you some information that might help the committee make its decision."
Mr. Buening replied, "No, Kim. I knew that if you weren't serious about buying a house, you wouldn't have come to see me in the first place. You just call tomorrow afternoon. I think we'll have some good news for you."

Well, the loan committee (which I now suspect was comprised of Mr. Buening and his coffee cup) approved us and we closed on the loan a few weeks later. We were the proud owners of our first home and our first mortgage payment book, with its payments of $194.42 a month.

That was a sweet little house and had many original and unique features. It was also a sweet time in our lives. Things were simple and time moved more slowly. Now things are more complicated and I move more slowly.

But I am thankful for my first experience with high finance, securing a mortgage and becoming homeowners. It was like a chapter out of a Lake Woebegon novel. All such transactions should be so simple, so personal and filled with such common sense.

Elvis is leaving the Building

2009-06-29T08:06:00.000-07:00

So our most recently hatched (nearly 21 years prior), and only current locally residing offspring (in our basement), is making his move to become decidedly less local. He's heading up today for Fort Collins, Colorado, where he hopes to find a job and apartment and start to create a life for himself outside our circle of influence, if not our web of expenses.

My wife and I have resisted his desire to leave school and just get out on his own. Knowing this 'independence' is easier contemplated than achieved, we've tried to encourage other options and directions for him, but he is determined. We've warned him that his life may become one of 'flipping hamburgers' and he says 'that's okay'.

As Jackie and I have discussed him leaving the nest, we have come to the realization that we always just assumed that each of our kids would, in an ordely fashion, just graduate from an institution of higer learning, and then either get started on a career or go on to grad school. In orderly fashion, no less. What were we thinking? Our assumptions reflected our own experience of the transition period that we experienced as we matriculated toward adulthood. We never even contemplated a "Plan B", as our kids were smart (still are), and they had the advantage of having good parents (assuming one grades on the curve).

Well, my soon-to-be 90 year old Dad reminds me every time I talk to him that we've got "good kids", and I agree. Whenever I mention that our youngest is sleeping in late, or staying out late, or when I tell him that he doesn't want to be in school, or...whatever, Dad just says "he's such a good kid. Its just a phase they all go through." You know, he's probably right.

Details of our "Plan B" are still a work in progress, but we have decided that "Plan B" definitely includes parental emotional support, encouragement and unconditional love. And we realize that it is, most likely "just a phase" and we'll go through it vicariously with our son.

Maybe life turns out to be a series of "phases" that we all go through, individually and in the company of our loved ones. We will do our best to enjoy, endure and support the process.

'Blog or get off the pot..."

2009-04-28T10:26:00.000-07:00

Just spent the better part of the last week flying down to Tampa, collecting my foks and the trappings of their snowbird life, and driving them back up to their home in Rockford, Il. Altogether, about 1400 miles and not a bad trip, considering. We stopped at my brother's home in Atlanta and had a very nice visit. My brother exhorted me to either "blog" or "get off the pot" (or something like that). So...will attempt to be less inconsistent in my posting...at least for the near term. When I read some of the other blog sites, they seem so well done and have so much thought injected, that I feel my own blog is pretty feeble. But will work on it...

Reading blogs to maintain connectedness...doesn't replace facetime...but better than nothing.

2009-02-27T22:52:00.001-08:00

Just reading an old friends blog as my main point of contact with him makes me kind of sad...realizing the loss of closeness. He's gotten into writing poetry, apparently, and he appears to me to be pretty good. He always was a pretty good thinker. He was one of my best friends, but now the years and miles have sort of taken their toll. His life and mine have gone their separate ways. No difficulties or issues (at least that I'm aware of). Just the distance that happens and the other stuff that pops up, gets in the way, and appears to be urgent.

We are now both grandpas. Rapidly approaching cardigan sweaters and hearing aids and surgically repaired hips. Many days away from being college kids. I suppose there've been many missed opportunities and many life choices made in between. Need to find a parkbench and reconnect. Maybe a Jackson Browne concert. And tune up a couple of guitars.

I went to a Carrie Newcomer concert last week with some friends. I didn't really know who she was, but now that we've been introduced, I am crazy about her music. Haven't felt quite so enthused about "discovering" a musician for years and years. http://www.carrienewcomer.com/#artist.html

Other than that, alls well. My wife and I are up in snowcountry for a few days of skiing, talking, wine tasting and just being away.

Blogging my way...

2009-01-24T10:50:00.000-08:00

I was with a friend a week ago and he told me he was "working on a post for his blog". When he said that, I didn't think much about it.... But, upon reflection, I thought of how differently (and probably the preferred manner) he approaches his blog than I approach mine. When I make my blog entries, I'm usually doing other things in my office and whatever gets entered is just my muddled stream of consciousness or semi-state of conscious. Nothing fancy. Nothing prepared. Just wingin' it--my keyboard and me.

Maybe I should start preparing my text beforehand. If I ever get to that level of bloggishness, boy will you ever be impressed with my entries.

Until then, keep your expectations low.

New President Elected...and Economy in Freefall

2008-12-17T09:12:00.000-08:00

Just thought I should check in.
Since I last posted, I feel like the economy has been in freefall. Bothers me alot.
Obama is now President-elect and I honestly HOPE things CHANGE for the better.
I didn't vote for him, but I trust things will settle down a bit in 2009. I can't believe how quickly things seemed to fall apart. Its been a bit of a depressing scenario.

Other than that, Henry and his parents arrive this weekend for Christmas and we're excited about that. Will be great to have them in a little closer proximity for the week.

2008-10-09T17:06:00.000-07:00

So. I am away from home and unable to post any pictures from this trip. Bummer.

So I have to use one from the past that somehow found its way onto my notebook.

Glad I had this one to share.

Headed to Maine for Multiple Henry Sightings

2008-09-23T17:12:00.000-07:00

Henry (the magnetic) and his maternal grandpa training for a upcoming grandpa-athalon.

Next week we head to Maine and Mount Desert Island. When I asked Jackie how she wanted to arrange the trip, she said...we'll fly into Boston, see Henry, then go up to Bass Harbor, Henry (and parents) will come up, and then when we go home, we should go through Boston and see Henry again.

The magnetic pull of our Grandson (who has a magnetic personality, to boot).

Dad's 89 now

2008-09-23T17:03:00.001-07:00

My dad turned 89 yesterday. I sang "Happy Birthday" to him and he didn't seem to mind my melodic meandering. Maybe he couldn't hear over the loud sound of the "Fox News Channel" dominating the background of our birthday conversation. Fox News Channel is the soundtrack of my parents' life these days. Mom turned 90 last month and we visited Rockford to celebrate. Check out Broken but Beloved Blog for details and pictures. And in general, a much better blog than my own.

Madame Vice President

2008-09-06T08:38:00.000-07:00

So, why, you ask, would I support McCain and Palin? Why, asks I, would you not? The Obamanator and Joe Biden scare me.

My Mom Turns 90

2008-09-06T08:31:00.001-07:00

So, here's some of the fam gathered in Rockford, Illinois to honor my mom for her 90th Birthday (and anticipating my dad's upcoming 89th).

Finding my face on Facebook, finding my voice in this blog

2008-08-13T07:50:00.000-07:00

For years, I've managed to ignore Facebook, thinking it was just for kids and other people with too much time on their hands... but my brother encouraged me to become "his friend" and now we are both brothers and friends (I guess its official, now). But now, I am, at least briefly, addicted to this silliness. I hope it passes.

The picture at the left is the one I used for the Facebook profile. Hope that is okay. It was taken so long ago that people might not recognize.

Other than that, I need to get outside and away from this darn computer. I need to stop and smell the coffee.

http://www.larknews.com/june_2008/secondary.php?page=3

Afterthoughts

2008-08-12T06:35:00.000-07:00

I forwarded this cartoon to my bro-in-law a while back...as he is into being a TriAthlete. This was more my speed, I told him.

Have you ever noticed how the internet is basically a medium where there exists primarily visuals and text but not so much stimulation for the auditory canals. I know there's audio, but it seems to me its mostly just tacked on as an afterthought....

that's my afterthought of the day.

Ski Tip and Kayaking at 9000 ft.

2008-08-11T10:30:00.000-07:00

Jackie and I went up to Keystone for several days last week to celebrate her birthday and dine at one of her (and our) favorite restaurants--Ski Tip Lodge (top pic) http://keystone.snow.com/info/din.fine.skitip.asp.

We had great outside times...hikes, some golf, and even some kayaking on Lake Dillon with a couple of friends who came up to join us . Wonderful days. Hard to come back home to bills and e-mails and reality in general.

NoBama No Way

2008-07-30T14:49:00.000-07:00

Rather than an "O",

I've been suspecting the symbol at the left is, in actuality, a "zero".

Kind of an expensive and well tailored, but empty, suit.

Mountain Days and Mountain Dogs

2008-07-28T18:50:00.000-07:00

We spent a few days in the Mountains this week and really enjoyed it. Met the Engdahls from Minnesota with their daughter Emily and Emily's boyfriend, Louis. Great folks all. Had a fun time up hiking near the continental divide. Went to some high mountain lakes that we pretty much had to ourselves. The dogs--our Mountain Dogs--loved it and ran and climbed and pretty much abandoned their normal, sleepy, sedentary lives...just like I did.

2008-07-22T08:24:00.000-07:00

I've got to admit, I like being a grandpa. Its still a new thing to me, but I'm now understanding why people like this grandparenting thing. At first I wasn't so wild about it...mainly what it said about 'me'. Grandparents always seemed like old people to me.

But with such a wonderful little life blooming before us, my focus is on my sweet little grandson. So I'm a grandpa. Big deal. I'm proud to be Henry's grandpa. If he'll have me.

Unfortunately, as part of this equation, my poor young wife is married to a grandpa now. But she'll have to learn to deal with that.

Edward M. Gabriel Urinals

2008-07-21T09:22:00.000-07:00

I was intrigued to find this plaque of dedication at a recent visit to Keystone, Colorado.

Thankfully, I've never seen anything quite like it. Inspite of my intrigue at the naming of the urinals, I made good use the Edward M. Gabriel Urinials (actually, I only used one of them). But as the mind wanders, I couldn't help but wonder (I wonder as I wander..) if Ed had 'pissed' somebody off...to earn this dedication in his name.

And I wondered what the dedication ceremony was like. I'm picturing praise raining down...or at least something raining down.

And then I ponder of the commercial opportunity. With all the money paid for "naming rights" in this country for sports stadiums, etc... for the more budget challenged...maybe they could just pay for the naming rights to a urinal or two...or maybe a porta-pottie.

My thought for the day.

2008-04-24T16:43:00.000-07:00

I am so conflicted. When I am in Colorado, I want to be in Maine.

2008-03-06T15:07:00.000-08:00

Okay, I'm blogging now. Its a little intimidating, but I just gotta go bird by bird, one after the other. Like a bird. On a wire. Like a drunk in a midnight choir. I've tried. In my way.
To be free.