Beware -- a new, secret society...

This past weekend I was officially taken in as a member of a secret society. Now, usually I'm not much for these kinds of things, but this one got me. Keep your eyes open -- it could get you too!!!

It all began as I was helping Pam with her shopping. We left the house Saturday morning and went to the Fairfield Mall. After that, she said she needed to stop at a Wal-Mart or somewhere to look for a Christmas jar to put some things in. Well, we stopped at the Meijer store in Huber Heights, you know -- the big, new one. That's where I first got the feeling that something or someone was watching me. I dropped Pam off at the front door and in she went. I pulled the truck down to one end of the parking lot to wait.

Da-dumm, da-dumm, da-dumm.


I also had the little hairs on the back of my neck tingling. But I looked around and didn't see anything out of the ordinary -- just cars. Of course, I didn't know what I was looking for.

Then Pam came out and we went up the road and stopped at the Target store (I know, what was I thinking stopping at that !!#^^@$# Frenchie store). Again, I dropped her off at the door and pulled down to the end of the lot to wait. It is then that the universe was revealed to me...things cleared up. As I happened to look about, I noticed I wasn't alone. There were others like me sitting in their cars and trucks, other men who dropped their wives off at the door, others waiting, waiting, waiting...

But they were not just sitting there. They had that look in their eyes -- new Christmas presents, a new 54" LG plasma TV, a blue ray player, new power tools, -- more power! Argh, Argh, Argh (For those who don't recognize it, that was the "Tim, the Tool Man" Club chant that was faintly wafting in and out of the engine revs in that part of the lot.). I could have also sworn that I heard a faint chorus of "Grandma got run over by a reindeer."

I was almost mesmerized by the overwhelming brotherhood of the whole thing when a lady that I thought was Pam came out of the front door. I didn't want to break the growing bond that was taking control, but it was cold and I had better go get her. Well, I pulled away and got closer to the door when I noticed it was not her. Sheepishly, I pulled back into the comfort of the Brotherhood and waited, not daring to look around and possibly see a thinly disguised smirk from one of the "Guys" -- that "tricked you" smile. I'm sure at least one of them was questioning my suitability for membership.

It seemed like an eternity, sitting there staring straight ahead, and then she really did come out. I have to admit I hesitated a bit and then slipped the truck into gear. I looked around to make sure I was not going to further embarrass myself by hitting a curb or light pole as I maneuvered my way to the fire lane where the real men parked. And that's when I first saw it -- the guy in the green mini-van kinda gave me a nod and a little smile -- it was like he was telling me not to worry. Everyone in the club has made that mistake at least once. Things will be OK. I think he was telling me that my membership was still good, and my initiation was done. Just don't let it happen again.

I figure if I could get forgiveness and reassurance from a guy in a mini-van with a "My kid is an Honor Student at ..." sticker on the back bumper, then things were really going to be OK.

Oh, yeah, the hair on my neck was up in the Meijer lot because I had the back window cracked a bit. Duh!!

I still have a full deck; I just shuffle slower now. (Author Unknown)

Hooah

Boy, I sure miss this...

It's hard to believe that it was almost 10 years ago that I completed my first solo cross country flight as a student pilot. Boy was that a milestone in my life. Imagine, having not only the authority to take someone's airplane all around Ohio by myself, but also the talent to do so. I mentioned in my last flying entry that the first solo around the pattern was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Well it was. However, multiply that by 3 pattern landings each at two different airports -- Zanesville, Ohio (ZZV) and Athens, Ohio (UNI) and a total of 4.2 hours of flying and you might come close to knowing what this was like. I chose those two airports because, as you know, I grew up in Zanesville and always wanted to fly there, and I went to college in Athens at Ohio University. Zanesville Municipal Airport used to be a stop for the old Allegheny Airlines which later became Lake Central which later was absorbed into a new airline called U.S. Airlines. I had an uncle who used to fly for the Navy during WWII. Later in his life he got his wings back and owned a Bonanza. He flew into Zanesville every once in a while and one time he took Pam and me up for a ride. That was one of those things that served to heighten my desire for wings. Anyway, back to the cross country solo.

After Trent (my CFI) reviewed my flight plan, listened in on the weather briefing I got from Dayton, and went over emergency procedures with me one more time, I took off from Sidney (I12) and headed east. Now I can't say for sure that I was the most excited pilot in the area that morning or not, bit I know Trent was excited for me ( he was also excited because he was the one who unleashed me and if anything went wrong, it was his butt). But also, I think the airplane was excited for me. You see, a good pilot talks to his plane as he is doing pre-flight. At least I read that somewhere. So, as I climbed all over it that morning, I said how excited I was the two of us were going to get away from pattern work and get out into the wild, blue, yonder.

I was about 15 minutes out of Sidney when I had to make my first decision. Since I had already decided to avoid any controlled airspace, I had to figure out if I wanted to go north of Columbus or South to avoid the Class-C airspace of Port Columbus. I chose north because there was a big, easy to see lake north of the city which, if properly navigated, would keep me away from anyone in the Columbus tower. Since the prevailing winds were out of the southwest, I would get a little northerly push anyway. That would help with fuel economy too. Once past Columbus, I kept a close eye on the chart to see if there were any other easily recognizable landmarks. One that popped up right away was the big basket at the Longaberger Headquarters. This is a huge, multi-story building that is shaped like one of their baskets. This indicated I was getting close to Newark. The next big natural feature was Dillon Lake. Once I saw that, I knew I was right on track. The Zanesville airport would be up ahead just a bit. I made contact with Zanesville flight opns. and was cleared for pattern operations and landing. Since it used to handle commercial traffic, Zanesville's runway was huge -- or so it seemed in this little plane. I taxied to a tie down spot and then went in to complete my required duties -- sign in at the pilot's "guest book" (this proved that I was really there), tell them what a nice airport they had (this is a time honored pilot thing, and it is also good PR), get my log book signed off by the person manning the desk, and then go to the bathroom. About 15 minutes later, I was back in the plane requesting permission to take off. On to the second leg of this epic flight, and south to Athens.

One nice thing about flying from Sidney to Zanesville was all the farm fields en route. They served as a reassuring reminder that if anything went totally wrong, I had plenty of places to land and get help. The second leg -- Zanesville to Athens -- was not so reassuring. You see, that is all hill country and lots of forest land. There were open fields, but they usually didn't have any approach lanes and were hilly with lots of BIG rocks and creeks. No problem. Just fly the plane. I stayed on course and pretty soon I saw the dome of the Convocation Center which meant I was getting near Athens. Once I landed, I did the same routine as in Zanesville, except that the airport manager came out to meet me. He said I was to call Trent. Great!! Now what. Trent wondered how the flight had gone so far and said I should not waste any time getting back because he thought the weather was going to get dicey and I could lose my ceiling before too long. So off I went.

On the way back, I had another decision to make. I could fly straight west below Dayton and WPAFB and above Cincinnati and then turn north and hightail it to Sidney. That was my original plan that bright sunny morning. But it seemed like a long way to go now with the weather getting crappy at home. So I took the straight line approach back to I12. In doing this I would have to stay a bit south of Columbus, but also stay away from Wilmington and the Air National Guard flight training ranges in that area. I was a pretty good navigator with a map, so that was the route I chose. There was only one time where I wanted to pull over and ask directions. But then I remembered real men don't pull over and ask for no stinking directions (especially in an airplane), so I would just find my own way. And then I remembered what Trent told me about those big water towers -- you know, the ones with the city names on them. He said they were build like that for pilots in the old days, before new-fangled navigation devices. He also said something about them being handy for rookies on cross country flights. Ahaa!! , said the rookie. I thought I knew where I was, so I dropped down about a thousand feet, circled the tower once and discovered I was absolutely right on!! Hooah. From there it was a little hop over Springfield and north up the east side of I-75 to Sidney.

Trent was right. The weather was closing down quickly and visibility was crapping out. If I hadn't been almost over the airport, I would have missed it the first time. Anyway, I was back and that milestone was completed and logged in the book. What an absolutely GREAT experience.!!

"The air up there in the clouds is very pure and fine, bracing and delicious. And why shouldn't it be? - it is the same the angels breathe." (Mark Twain)

Hooah

A reason to celebrate ...

I think I mentioned a few articles ago that Pam and I went to a party for an old Sergeant Major of mine who had just returned from his third tour in this war. I received a Christmas card from him and his wife, Pat, along with an article from their home town newspaper. The article pointed out that this is the first time since 2003 that Wink and his whole family has been together for the holidays. He has 3 sons, all of whom were or are in the Army, and 2 of whom are currently serving. Anyway, I got to thinking how Wink's and my paths have been intertwined over the past 20 some years and I found some pictures that kind of highlight some of it.

In my command days with the 447th MP CO (CS), Wink was one of the platoon sergeants and would have been my First Sergeant when we went to the first Gulf War. We would have been a kick-ass team, but fate stepped in and things changed. I took the 447th off to Germany while I had to give him up to be the First Sergeant of another unit who was particularly weak on good leadership. Kind of like balancing the talent, or spreading the wealth. There was a lot of that going on in the Reserves just before that war. Interestingly enough, however, he and I ran in to each other at 2330 hours in the snack bar at the flight ops. building at McGuire AFB, just as he and his unit were ready to take off for Kuwait and I and mine were leaving for Germany. What a coincidence. What were the chances?

Well, we got back from our respective Theaters and went back to Reserve life and trained some more, hoping we would never need any of this again. We worked hard but when it was time to celebrate holidays, we would do our best to show the families what it was that we did all those weekends and annual training weeks wherever. This picture shows Wink setting up a display in the G-3 section at our headquarters for a family day.

And then along came 9/11 and everything changed again. Again Fate stepped in and shuffled the cards we were to be dealt. Because of a heart attack two days before the unit mobilized for a deployment to Cuba, I missed that trip with him. However, early in the following year, I was cleared for duty and went to Iraq while assigned to Third Army. When everyone finally got back, we did what Soldiers have done for centuries following a deployment -- we partied. This picture was at Wink's house.

Interestingly enough, we both took on new assignments after that tour. He again went to Iraq as part of a small detachment and I went to the Pentagon. Mine was one of those "assigned to with additional duty elsewhere" tours. Anyway, as Fate would have it we again ran into each other late one night in 2006 in a camp in Iraq. We had a couple of soldiers who were sitting in a nearby break area take our picture. They were amazed when we told them how many times the Sergeant Major's and my paths had crossed in wars. Kinda like something from some book.

I finished that 18-month tour and then retired from the Army. Wink came back home, transferred to the Brigade HQ expecting a break only to be deployed once again. There wouldn't be any more late night meetings in some far away land, but it wouldn't be the last time a bunch of old soldiers would get together. Here is a picture from that most recent gathering this past November.
Just in case you were wondering, from left to right, there's quite a bit of experience in this picture: Me(Ret.) - 39 years, CSM(Ret.) Dave - 44 years, SGM Wink(still serving) - 30+ years, 1SG (Ret.) Bob - 42 years. My math says that's at least 155 years worth of service.

I hope you won't take issue with me if I take a small liberty with Shakespeare's quote, but I feel it best sums up the picture above. Those who have been there will understand:

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. For he today that "serves" with me shall be my brother.

Hooah

Command has its privileges...

I haven't written any Army stories for a while so as I was going through some old pictures, I thought I would take a minute to tell you about these two pictures.

I was the battalion commander for the 391st MP BN (EPW) and happened to also be the principal at Anna High School in March of 1997. One thing that I learned quickly was that small rural communities celebrate some really neat little festivals, the kind that would hardly even get noticed in other places. McCartyville, a little crossroads village which is part of the Anna School District and happens to be where we live, breaks out of the winter doldrums on St. Patrick's Day each spring, recalling its Irish heritage with a 5K run, a 5-6 unit parade and some high-spirited partying at the local establishment called Patricks.

While there are some very good runners in the community, the 5K is mostly for fun and is not taken seriously by everyone. In fact, there have been one or two people who don't run the whole way who have been known to have a green beer at the rest break.

As I said, I was the principal at the time and wanted to do something to help with the parade. I was also interested in getting the U.S. Army a little more visibilty in that neck of the woods. So, I told the commander of a subordinate MP unit in Troy to conduct a road march/route recon exercise with his objective being to find the Village of McCartyville, plot a route that would take them there and execute a plan that would have them there (the objective, in Army terms) exactly at the starting time of the parade. They would then participate in the parade and gather intelligence on the locals in the process (had to tie in some Army stuff for them to do).

One of the things I always told my junior officers and sergeants was: If you tell people where to go and what to do, but not how to get there or how to do it, you'll be amazed at the results. The weather in March here in West Central Ohio can be quite unpredictable, and this year was no exception. It snowed the day before and was quite cold the morning of the parade. But that wasn't going to stop them. Besides, we had one young Soldier who had just joined that particular unit and I wanted to show the locals what he looked like in his uniform, standing behind his weapon, out of the top of a HUMVEE. My superiors would have called this a spontaneous recruiting event--you know, the U.S. Army in support of local community events.

Well it worked and they amazed me. As I fully expected, they found the place quite easily and arrived about 5 minutes early. The kids in town thought it was really cool, especially when the troops stopped after the parade and parked in the church parking lot for about a half hour to let the kids climb all over the vehicles (The platoon leader told me this was their intelligence gathering time. But I know better -- one of the locals told me this was when they gave the Soldiers some coffee so they could warm up. Well, maybe this was intelligence gathering, who knows).

I don't know that this unit got any recruites out of this, but the troops had fun, the company commander and the detachment commander got brownie points with their battalion commander (me), and the community got to see some Soldiers up close. I think the National Guard took credit for this and got some recruits, but what the heck.

This reminded me of a saying attributed to Ronald Reagan: Some people live an entire lifetime and wonder if they have ever made a difference in the world, but Soldiers don't have that problem.


The patriot volunteer, fighting for country and his rights, makes the most reliable soldier on earth. Stonewall Jackson

Hooah

Oh, no ... the big SIX-O...

Well, if you didn't hear the earth shake the other day, you didn't miss it. But I am very happy to tell you that Pam and I both celebrated our 60th birthdays. For those of you who don't know us very well, yep, that's right -- both of us were born on the same day, same year. You would not believe the fun we've had with that over the years.

Every three or four years, when we go to renew our driver's licenses, we get strange questions and looks from the ladies behind the counter. They look at us like we've done something wrong or are trying to get away with something. After you turn 21, why would anyone want to get away with something that makes them older? Growing old is like being increasingly penalized for a crime you haven't committed.

And I don't know how many times in the military when I had to fill out dependent forms for her when I was deploying somewhere that the clerk would think the old man was losing his hearing or mind when he couldn't respond correctly to such a simple question as "your wife's birthdate, not your's, Sir."

Well, let me tell you how our 60th went. First, we went to Wright Patterson to get our retired ID cards...or as I call it, "the you're too old to play anymore" card. But don't get me wrong -- I have looked forward to reaching this age and getting that card for a long, long time. It was kind of a huge benchmark in my life -- that little blue card meant that I had really accomplished something in life that I could be proud of, my parents would have been proud of if they were still alive, and my wife and son, and yes, even my grandson, could be proud of. 39 years of military is something to be proud of. But you know what, when the Air Force Staff Sergeant handed me my card (she must have had the "old filter" on the camera because boy the picture sure makes me look older than I thought I was the night before), I didn't hear any cannons or the roar from a fly-over celebrating this monumental occasion. Not even a bell or a whistle. Oh, well, she had a whole room full of contractors and other military types and their dependents waiting to get their cards done so I just picked up my coat and moved on. Besides, we still had lots more of this day to celebrate.

OK. Off we went, back to town where I dropped my wife off at her car so she could go back to work (Oh, she's not retired yet -- you knew that, right?). By now, it was almost noon, so what the heck -- I thought I would splurge and buy myself lunch. So I went through the drive-thru at Burger King and confidently whipped out my Golden Buckeye card, ordered a #5 (you know -- the "could my butt look any bigger" meal) and felt good about the 10% discount they give to people of our advanced stature in life. From there, I went home to eat lunch with our dog at the kitchen table. It was way too cold to go golfing and besides, I was getting a headache, so I went in and took a nap. Later that night, we went to dinner at Appleby's.

Don't get me wrong, the 60th is a biggie. We usually get presents for each other for our birthdays, but we also like to just buy little things for each other throughout the year -- makes them more special when they are not expected. This year's presents were special though. Pam got me a new tri-band ham radio I had been looking at and they had some gold left over from doing my teeth, so I got her a nice pair of gold ear rings (just kidding about the teeth part).

The phone rang pretty much off the hook with family members calling with assorted genuine, snide and humorous greetings and salutations. And then it was time for bed. Bailey got up on the bed and snuggled up and gave us a big sigh, indicating everything from the perspective of a blind dog was good in life. A little later, Pam was sound asleep, Bailey was snoring and I finished another chapter in a military related book I am currently reading. Lights out.

And now, we're off on year 60, day 1 ... and counting. I think it was Charles Schultz who said, "Just remember, once you're over the hill you begin to pick up speed."

"You know you're getting old when all the names in your little black book have M. D. after them." (Arnold Palmer)

Hooah

Glad things are back to normal...kinda...

I don't know about you, but I sure am glad things are back to normal after all the election hysteria.

Being residents of one of the battleground states, it seemed there was a non-stop blitz of political commercials, basically from sun-up to bed time for about three months. I don't know if any of those sound bites really changed anyone's mind or really educated anyone. I'm not even sure they convinced people to vote. I think the "Pied Piper" approach to rallies had more of an effect on registration and voting than anything else. I don't care what the talking heads tell you they learned from their "scientific" polls, people pretty much had an opinion from the beginning -- right, wrong, or whatever -- and they pretty much voted along that line.

Having said that -- and I feel very much relieved for having done so, thank you -- let me tell you what I meant by "back to normalcy." The commercial segments of the nightly news have been recaptured by medicine-related infomercials. I have seen more of Sally Fields pushing her Boniva pills than I really care to. In fact, I've seen her more lately than I did when she was really hot doing her TV shows.

I have also had my fill of hearing of pills that give you more bad side effects than the pill is supposed to correct. I would say I was sick of hearing of them, but the drug companies probably have something for that too. Are the drug companies really trying to educate people to buy something that kinda scares the heck out of them?

And another thing (Sorry, Andy -- I just had to use that line)...I don't know how many more sex pills I can hear about without throwing something at the TV. Fortunately, there is always my trusty mute button. And what's up with those things ending with the two people in bathtubs on a beach or at the edge of a forest. Did I miss something in my sex education class or the locker room?

I just hope my grandchild's first words aren't "Erectile Dysfunction."

"A healthy old fellow, who is not a fool, is the happiest creature living." (Sir Richard Steele)

Hooah

Enough snow to track a rabbit...

An old tale from my childhood goes something like this: The way you can tell how many major snows there will be in a winter is to note the date of the first snow of the year that is heavy enough to track a rabbit. That date will equate to how many snows there will be.

Well, today, November 15, is the first snow of the year here in McCartyville and you can certainly track a rabbit in this one. You'll notice I got the boat put away for the winter too.

Each year, once in the late fall and then again in the early spring, my neighbor, Jim, comes over and helps me take the motor off the boat. I suppose I could try to wrastle if off the boat and get it on the stand in the garage by myself, but it only takes the two of us about five minutes and we don't get all greasy and buggered up doing it. He usually brings one of the boys over when he comes -- whoever has his homework done I guess. Anyway, I told them the snow/rabbit tale and guess what, he remembered it. Now he's delightedly looking ahead to lots of snow days this winter.

Bailey went out with me today to walk in the snow. She can't see it, but she remembered it. One big flake fell right on her nose. I'm talking at least an inch wide one. She pulled up short, licked it off, and then kinda ran around a bit, licking the snow off the ground just like she used to do. The flakes are so big she looks like a Dalmation Lab!!

Another sight that always makes me pause and think of the things we have that we had no hand in paying for is the snow falling on the graves of the Civil War Vets' in the cemetery behind our house. The flags waving in the breeze provides a stunning contrast of red, white and blue with the snow on the ground and the green of the pines. The snow is coming down so heavily right now, the fields behind the cemetery almost look like they are in a heavy fog. Kinda eerie. Kinda powerful.

Earth, teach me to forget myself as melted snow forgets its life, teach me resignation as the leaves which die in the fall, teach me courage as the tree which stands all alone...teach me regeneration as the seed which rises in the spring. (William Alexander)

Hooah

Now, just you hold on a minute!!!!!!!

Saturday, Pam and I went to an open house welcome back party for one of my old Sergeants-Major who had just returned from his latest deployment to Iraq (by the way, I hope it is his last -- he's getting too old for this crap). We had a great visit. Two of my other Army buddies were there -- Dave, a former CSM, and Bob, a former 1SG. One nice thing was they all brought their wives so Pam got to meet some and renew friendships with others.

So far, so good. Then we drove back to McCartyville and pulled up in front of the mail box to see what we got besides all those obnoxious, annoying political flyers. And there it was...in fact there THEY were.

I immediately thought about calling the Post Master to file a complaint. How could she be so cruel. Pam and I make Christmas candy and always leave a big platefull for the mail lady, and she does this to us!!!

She delivered those inevitable signs that time waits for no man (or woman) -- GOLDEN BUCKEYE cards. "Say it ain't so, Joe." I remember when my parents got theirs -- and I thought how old they were. I can recall how my mom went into denial. In fact, I think Pam might be doing the same thing.

Well, I finally sucked it up and put mine in my wallet. Might as well use it, I guess. Pam finally today took hers off the little sticky greetings card thingy that it comes on telling you you are getting closer and closer to being old. It's still sitting on the counter in the kitchen though.

The next day, I thought I would give this thing a whirl and see what I could get for it. I went to the Speedway for a cup of coffee after church. You're right -- no dice. They take money, they take Speedy rewards cards, but no Golden Buckeye card. Then I went to Tim Horton's and sadly found out the same thing. Soooooooo, Mr. Golden Buckeye -- you're 0-2. Since the state of Ohio didn't send a list of places I could use this thing, I thought I should go online to see what they had to offer. I printed a list of places in Shelby and Miami counties. Mickey-Ds is in, and so is Wendy's, so that's good. And I guess it's better than nothing.

Since we're looking at an immenent move to PA, I went online to see if they have anything there like this program. Nope. And if they did, they'd probably tax it anyway. Oh, well.

I'll still throw away the AARP things we get in the mail. I don't believe in most of their political stances. But I'll use this card. Thanks Ohio for thinking of your older citizens -- even if I/we don't think we're there yet.

"Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many." (Author Unknown)

Hooah

Milford Trip, Part 3...

Let me give you a little run down on the borough of Milford, just in case you're wondering what two almost-sixty year-olds are doing moving from Ohio to the land of snow and liberal politics.

The town seems to be a getaway for New Yorkers wanting to get out of the city, to escape higher taxes and higher cost of living issues. The main drag, Routes 6 and 209 which intersect at what I think is the only stop light in the town, is non-stop traffic on weekends and everyone seems to have a New York or New Jersey plate. In fact, when I got up at about 3:30 in the morning to go to the bathroom, I looked out the window of the room at the B&B where we were staying and there was still scattered traffic. There also seems to be lots of motorcycle traffic there -- Harleys cruising the backroads of PA with Bruce Springsteen wannabees.

The town itself is pretty nice from what we can tell. We had pizza on Thursday night at the pizza place across the street from the B&B. It was pretty good. As expected, it turned into the teen hangout on the weekend. On Friday, we spent the day with a realtor. Saturday and Sunday were spent the day with Doug, Danika and Quinn. We did a lot of walking throughout the town, which has some really nice shops and attractions.

The borough is trying to build on its tourism theme by having several festivals throughout the year. The weekend we were there was the Blackbear Film Festival weekend. I'm sure that brought lots of people in who might not have been there otherwise. The old movie house where the "indie films" (that's what they call independent films) were shown was right out of the 50s. They had a refreshment tent set up outside and had art and other items for sale. There was a silent auction for lots of things, including the black bear sculptures produced for the festival. There were two bears that I liked -- the "Indy (Indiana Jones) Bear" and the "Armed Forces Bear" (notice ARMY is on top!!).

They had a sign advertising the film festival's location on this old truck, a 1928 Chevrolet. One thing I liked about it was how simple the dash board was. Kind of reminds me of the Cessna 152 I first learned to fly in. I think that's one of the things I like about Milford, things on the surface appear to be simplistic and pretty easy to adapt to. The people I met that weekend appeared to be real down home people and easy to talk to. We drove down to one of the shopping areas and saw the Wal-Mart, the Staples store and other smaller shops. The main downtown area of Milford is full of shops with charm and appeal. Lots of the buildings are over 100 years old and all have been maintained very well. The streets are wide and tree-lined. We also drove past the local high school. It looks like a nice school. I was told that the top four grades have somewhere over 1,700 students or so. It was Friday night and people were pulling in the parking lot, getting ready for that night's football game. From the looks of the traffic entering the parking lot, they take their football there as seriously as they do in Ohio. I'm looking forward to seeing them play. They also have a Zane Gray museum in Milford. I thought my old hometown of Zanesville Ohio had the only one. I learned something new.
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Unfortunately, we did not find that one house that said "buy me." We're still looking, but have since seen a couple of real strong possibilities on the internet. We're planning our nest trip over there for November. I'm sure we'll find that one that is meant for us. I know it will be worth it as the kids will be able to come over for weekend getaways and we'll only be about an hour and a half away from their place.

I'm sure I've mentioned before in one of these articles that I'm really looking forward to Quinn and Doug coming over to go fishing with me in the Water Gap area...that is, if I can get him away from his grandma when they come over. My father and grandmother taught me how to fish and I look forward to teaching them what President Herbert Hoover once said: "Fishing is the chance to wash one's soul with pure air. It brings meekness and inspiration, reduces our egoism, soothes our troubles, and shames our wickedness. It is discipline in the equality of men -- for all men are equal before fish."

Pam and I are looking forward to this new chapter in our lives. We have never been the kind to get settled in a rut. It's kind of like that old saying: The only difference between a rut and a grave is their dimensions. We'll miss our families, and we're going to miss our friends here. Dave will just have to carry on our golfing adventures without me. And we'll miss the families in this neighborhood --they're super people -- we wish we could take them with us. Thank goodness for phones and e-mail.

"If nothing ever changed, there'd be no butterflies." (Author Unknown)

Hooah

Milford Trip, Part 2...

Staying at the Herrington House Bed and Breakfast (formerly known as the Hattree B&B) was a pretty good way to visit the borough. It was an old Victorian-style house which the current owner has refinished and put more of a contemporary look to. I'm not much into decorating and that sort of thing, so I would categorize it as "de-foo-fooing" it. There's probably a real, more sophisticated term for it, but I have to admit the place looks a whole lot better now than it did in the pictures when it was the Hattree.

The minute we walked in the house, the house dog took a liking to us and lay at our feet the whole time we were there. If you've read any of this blog over the year, you know Pam and I are real dog lovers, so this was a nice treat. There were cats there too, but they stayed pretty much in the owners area. I thought this old proverb might suite the place as a motto: "Make happy those who are near, and those who are far will come." We sure had a great time while we were there.

As you would expect, breakfasts were pretty good. Adriane (the new owner) said breakfasts were her specialty. Also, as you might expect, there were good, warm fireplaces in the house. Adriane got them back in working order and they really came in handy as the evenings got a bit nippy a couple of the nights we were there. We also got to meet other guests when we all gathered around the breakfast table. It is amazing how people you think are complete strangers end up having things in common with you when you get to talking with them. Three of her guests were Forest Service employees who came to Milford from across the country for a conference. Believe it or not, I once wanted to be a forest ranger. In fact, I was real serious about it in high school -- it kind of reflected my outdoors nature at that time.

As a new B&B owner, Adriane was not sure that she wanted to let us book a room for Doug and Danika and Quinn. She wasn't sure she wanted to have kids in the house. Well, she said she would try it this time since Quinn was only a few months old. I can see their point with all the antiques and breakables in one of these places. Anyhow, Quinn was the BEST little boy. He only cried one time for a couple of minutes and that was only his way of saying he was hungry. Otherwise, you wouldn't have known he was there except for his laughter and giggling. Pam and I really enjoyed him. He is taking on a personality and really responds to us.

I don't think he was paving the way for future baby guests, but I think he was a hit and I don't think Adriane had any regrets letting them come over to visit us.

“When you look at your life, the greatest happinesses are family happinesses”
(Dr. Joyce Brothers)

Hooah

Milford Trip, Part 1...

For years now, Pam and I have wanted to do a road trip up through New England states in the fall to see the turning of the leaves. We didn't know if this would be a vacation trip while both of us were still working, or a road trip when we were retired. Well, neither of those has happened yet, but our trip a couple of weeks ago to Milford Pennsylvania was about as good as it can get. The leaves and trees along I-80 were just about perfect.

It can be a bit of a culture shock going from the flatlands of Ohio to the hills of PA (I thought they were mountains but a local told me they consider them hills there). However you look at them, it was a very nice trip over and back. The weather guessers called for rain and overcast skies for the whole weekend. We sure were glad they were wrong.

The drive was shortened somewhat with the completion of US Route 30. We made 2 fuel stops and a lunch stop which totaled about 1/2 hour, so the trip took about 9.5 hours to complete. We didn't have any traffic problems -- I-80 is kinda deserted most of the time except around Wilkes-Barre and Scranton.

Milford is a very small borough (1,200+/- citizens) which lies on the banks of the Delaware River at the head of the Delaware Water Gap region. Most of the houses in the area are very old with some dating back to the 1860s. We looked at quite a few houses in the area, both newer ones in the private developments outside town and ones in the borough itself. The homes in the developments meant home owner associations and dues, and usually had a lake/pond of some sort, an association clubhouse, tennis courts and playgrounds associated with them. The dues were generally around $1,100 per year. Unfortunately, these neighborhoods were really isolated and with the terrain being very hilly and curvy, we felt like walking and bike riding would be out of the question for these two "soon-to-be 60" transplants.

We are leaning very much toward living in the borough if we can find the right house. In terms of that right place, Pam has her opinions and I have mine but I'm sure we'll work it out when the right one comes on the market. We saw some houses listed by realtors and some for sale by owners. The borough has nice wide streets and a lot of the places have extensive gardens in place of grassy yards. As I said earlier, the town is pretty old but really full of charm and very well-maintained.

I have done some homework on the cost of living there compared to Ohio, and for us being retired it seems to be pretty favorable for an east coast area. I have also done some checking with the ham radio guys/clubs in the area and it appears that the mountains (hills?) don't impede the transmission/reception of radio signals much at all.

Well, so much for a general run down on the area. As I said, we'll keep looking for the right place to live.

Patience is the ability to let your light shine after your fuse has blown.

Hooah

Trying something new...

I am trying something new with some of the pictures from our trip last week to Milford, PA. To the right, I have put a new link to a web album (Grandma & Grandpa's trip to Milford, PA) which will give you about 30 pictures. There are also two film clips. They are not too good, but are my first attempts at something like this. We only had a little over a day with them, but there were times when we were having so much fun that we forgot to take pictures.

This was Quinn's first overnight road trip, his first stay at a Bed & Breakfast, and his first time at a restaurant (and he got to sit at the big peoples' table). He turned 3 months old today.

Check 'em out.

Hooah

Just a thought...

I know I have written in other postings how much I liked this or that particular season of the year. And I have to admit that each of them has a unique characteristic about it that makes it stand out.

Spring brings hope that my golf game and fishing will be better than the year before. It brings hope that the Reds will be better and that they will get the pitching they need to make it past July. I think I'm getting a better appreciation of what the Cubs' fans have lived with 'lo these many years.

Summer is fun because it brings Friday evening boat rides with Pam at the lake. By this time, my golf game is what it is and fishing is still fun -- especially when I catch something! I also get a boost in the ham radio hobby as there seems to be better signal propagation then. So far, I have made contacts in 18 states. That's not that many, but I don't spend much time on it when I can be outdoors.

But now, we're into Fall and this is probably my most special season. Wm. Cullen Bryant described it this way: "Autumn, the year's last, loveliest smile.” I sit out by the fire ring in the evenings thinking back to things I/we did in the spring and summer. I hear the dryers going in the farmers' silos and think of harvests and preparation for winter. I recall some of Robert Frost's poetry that talks about old age and winter. As I close in on 60, I also think about family. Even though I have generally carved out my own path in life, I, like Frost, still have miles to go before I sleep.

With that, Pam and I are planning another road trip -- one to the town of Milford, PA to look at the possibilities of moving there to be closer to Doug and Danika and baby Quinn. We have been to this beautiful corner of the Poconos a couple of times and it is only about 75 miles as the crow flies from their place in Brooklyn. Of course, the crow and our truck don't necessarily go the same way. There are lots of pros and cons to doing this, but just to be closer to them trumps most of the cons -- except maybe for the cold, snowy winters. We're still young enough to handle that, though!!

In the next few days, I will recount the highlights of our trip. We have a couple of days of house hunting planned and we'll see what happens.

“Do not lose hold of your dreams or aspirations. For if you do, you may still exist but you have ceased to live.” (Thoreau)

Hooah

Homecoming Roadtrip...

The skies were cloudy, rain was forecast at 40% and the team was 0-4 for the season, but that wasn't going to stop us from making our annual trip to Athens and Ohio University for Homecoming weekend. We've been doing this pretty much regularly for several years and weren't about to let a little chance of rain keep us away.

The closer we got to Athens, the better the sky looked. As we hit the Lancaster by-pass, blue skies were starting to break through and sunshine bounced off the fields and trees of the Hocking Hills area. We were just about 3 weeks too early for the great colors of the oaks and maples, but the skies were clearing so we were really getting psyched.

There is just something about being back on the campus that clears out all the junk that clogs your arteries and lets the blood flow making you feel better as you mentally go back to a better time in life. I'm sure there were times back then that didn't exactly peg the old fun meter, but like lots of other memories, those got shoved to the back regions of the memory banks and we had a great afternoon.

I have to apologize for not remembering my camera, but these pictures will give you some idea of where I used to spend my time. Ellis Hall (above) is where the English and Foreign Language Departments are housed. The Alden Library was named for Vern Alden, President of Ohio University in the 60s -- certainly not an easy time to have been a university president. During his tenure, the University doubled in student population and building. One thing I liked about OU was the Georgian style of architecture used for about 90% of all the buildings on campus. Being an English Language & Literature major, I spent a great deal of my time in these two buildings -- honest.

Later, when I taught and even later when I got into administration, I would tell students at Troy and Anna High Schools that OU is what a college is supposed to look like. It is a great place to get an education because it is somewhat removed from all the "problems" associated with big city colleges. It is deep in Apalachia and still not the easiest place to get to. When you are there, you are there. By and large, the faculty is there because they want to be there too.

Pam and I were married when we were there for the last two years. I wouldn't recommend that for everyone, but we did well being there -- walking on the College Green in the spring and fall, "sledding" down Jeff Hill in the winter on trays liberated from the cafeteria for an hour or two, trying to get up Carriage Hill in the snow, or better yet stopping for the light at the bottom of the hill on a snowy morning, going to Dow Lake or Stroud's Run. Among other things, we enjoyed watching the football and basketball teams, the band (then known as "The 110 Marching Men of Ohio"), and participating in a number of aspects of college life. Back then, we saw Chicago, The Supremes, and Three-Dog Night all in concert at the Convo.

When we were there watching this year's game (OU-51/VMI-31) we sat behind an elderly couple. The lady was in her 80s and she still teaches there, still stood and cheered when the band played the fight song, still knew the words and had students coming up to her to say hi. Another thing we like about homecoming week is the alumni band comes back to play. There's just something about 300+/- bandies playing "Long Train Runnin'". Even though we're closing in real fast on 60, that kinda gets the juices flowing again.

As we drove home, I may have been into the gas pedal just a bit more than on the way down, may have had the volume turned up just a bit more as I kept time to the 60s CD, and may have kept the window down a bit longer so the wind would blow through the truck. In fact, I didn't take my sunglasses off till we got past Columbus and it was getting pretty dark. The day kind of reminded me of an old saying that I used to use a lot in the Army too: Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional.

Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. (Samuel Ullman)

Hooah

Southenders win initial challenge...

We finally got around to doing something we had wanted to do for quite a while. Sunday was the day for the Southender-Northender-Village People Golf Challenge. What a day-- high in the upper 70s and clear, blue skies. As long as everyone brought their "A-game" nothing could go wrong, especially if you were a Southender.

We have been saying we're going to do these kinds of challenges -- golf, pool, bowling -- for several years, but no one ever got it going. Well, this weekend was just too good to pass up. The teams were 4-man teams made up of those who lived at each end of McCartyville Road, and four from the Village. There were some different rules for the scramble so everyone had to figure in the scoring, which made it a bit more competitive.

Most of these guys grew up together and have lived around here for their whole lives. I've only been
here going on 12 years so I'm still the F.N.G.. so to speak. Anyhow, it was fun to get everyone who could play out to defend the honor of their part of the town. There were only a few really good golfers in the group, everyone else was pretty much a bogie golfer. This was one of those days when you just hitched up your shorts and said, "bring it on."

The Southenders managed to put together a 70 to win the event. The Village People (left) had the high score and walked away with the Golden Goat Trophy which they will proudly display

in a place of prominence during the upcoming year.

Afterward, refreshments were served and a good time was had by all.

Two things we all learned Sunday were: The shortest distance between any two points on a golf course is a straight line that passes directly through the center of a very large tree, and You can put a draw on the ball; you can put a fade on the ball, but no golfer can put a straight on the ball.

“Tell me who your friends are and I’ll tell you who you are.”

Hooah

P.S. I played on the Southender team!! Hooah

It's campfire time ...

I don't want you to think this is my first campfire of the year. I have used up about half of my woodpile so far this year. But now it's getting to be REAL campfire time. You know, the time when you wear jeans and some sort of heavier top to sit around the fire.

Up till now, I've been wearing shorts and a T-shirt most of the time, and I would constantly have to adjust the distance I would sit from the fire because it would vary from singing the hair on my legs by being too close, to being a blood bank for the mosquitoes who would buzz just out of reach of the smoke.

Now, though, it's time for the real campfires. I'm talking about the ones that mesmerize you as you sit there with the tip of your nose getting just a little cold, and you sit up close without worrying about sparks, or bugs or singed leg hair or things like that.

The fire ring is right on the edge of the pond, and I sit listening to the fish come up after the bugs on the water. I also watch the bats come out of the barns and swoop down for water and some of the emerging bugs. If I have fed the fish that night, they will go on splashing around most of the night getting food and chasing other fish. It is really quite relaxing. And then throw in star gazing... there are so many stars out on these clear nights. Being in the country, we aren't bothered by light pollution so they seem so bright you can almost reach up and touch them. We're also near one of the major midwest air "cross roads" -- the Rosewood VOR -- so there are lots of planes in the sky with their twinkling red and green marker lights.

Another real nice thing about sitting out there at night is I usually have my two best buds with me. Pam will sit out there a lot of nights, but Bailey is there every time I have a fire going. At times she will dig in the sand at the beach like she's looking for a long-ago buried bone, but most of the time she will just lie on the grass next to us.

Another thing I like about sitting by the fire at night, is going to bed later. Usually the smoke from the fire gets in your hair (and for me that's quite a challenge these days) and when you lie down, the smell gets in your pillow and is with you all night and greets you when you awake in the morning.

There's just something about a campfire that makes one slow down, take it in and absorb everything around it. I feel sorry for those who live in outdoor areas where campfires have legislated away. I feel sorry too for those who live where their tiny lots cannot accommodate a campfire. Those people have lost something. The human spirit needs places where nature has not been rearranged or regulated by the hand of man. In his work, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Lord Byron said:

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more.

God writes the gospel not in the Bible alone, but on trees and flowers and clouds and stars (Ed. note: and campfires, too). Martin Luther

Hooah

A break from my usual writings...

Al, an old friend of mine who thinks like me on lots of issues, who is almost as rabid a conservative as me (if that's possible) sent me the following. I have used only one forwarded item before in this blog, because I know how people hate forwards. But I thought these were pretty good. I don't know where he got them, but Al is a preacher, so maybe he has some insights or insider info that the rest of us don't. Anyway, enjoy.

A PET'S TEN COMMANDMENTS.........

1. My life is likely to last only 10-15 years. Any separation from you is likely to be painful.

2. Give me time to understand what you want of me.

3. Place your trust in me. It is crucial for my well-being.

4. Don't be angry with me for long and don't lock me up as punishment. You have your work, your friends, your entertainment, but I have only you.

5. Talk to me. Even if I don't understand your words, I do understand your voice when speaking to me.

6. Be aware that however you treat me, I will never forget it.

7. Before you hit me, before you strike me, remember that I could hurt you, and yet, I choose not to bite you.

8. Before you scold me for being lazy or uncooperative, ask yourself if something might be bothering me. Perhaps I'm not getting the right food, I have been in the sun too long, or my heart might be getting old or weak.

9. Please take care of me when I grow old. You too, will grow old.

10. On the ultimate difficult journey, go with me please. Never say you can't bear to watch. Don't make me face this alone. Everything is easier for me if you are there, because I love you so.

Take a moment today to thank God for your pets. I see dogs as a direct gift from Him to us. After all, what is dog spelled backwards? Enjoy and take good care of them. Life would be a much duller, less joyful experience without them in our lives.

If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went.

Hooah

Update on the Quinn...

"God gave us memories that we might have roses in December." J.M. Barrie (Courage, 1922) If that's true, we are sure storing up lots of roses now as we snap up every little scrap of information, every insight we can get about this newcomer to our family. We're like sponges.

My normal day starts out by checking e-mail channels primarily to see if there are any of the following:
* news on our grandson, Quinn, and/or
* new pictures of him.
After that I also look for any real estate listings from agents in the Milford, PA area (where we contemplate a possible relocation to be closer to them), and any news on some of my Army buds returning from their year in Iraq. But first things first.

Being somewhat new at this grandparent thing, I admit to checking at least three times a day. Pam, on the other hand, checks before she goes to work and at some time in the evening. However, she's relying on me to monitor the situation during the day and give her a full briefing when she gets home from work. I don't know if there are any rules or protocols on the frequency of checking, but I do know if new pictures pop up on their album, I print them off right away so she can update her "Grandma Book." And honestly... we both try very hard to avoid falling into the "grandparent" syndrome of readily whipping out a wallet filled with at least 50 or so pictures of the little guy. But I was a boy scout once.

Besides...how could anyone not get fired up about getting pictures of this little guy!!

Grandchildren are the living messages we send to a time we will not see.

Hooah

This is just like I remember it, kinda...sorta...

Day 2 of our mini-trip last week was a good one, waking up to another Chamber of Commerce morning on Lake Erie.

We went to the lobby and I couldn't help but chuckle at all the Dallas fans, checking out of the hotel, who looked like they had just returned from a level 5 hangover. Oh, well, off to see the concierge to find a good, cheap breakfast spot. Fortunately, he recommended a very nice, clean, close diner called "Addy's." The food was priced right and very good, especially the French Toast. The cook said he makes it with cream instead of milk.

Following that, we were off to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame which was only a few blocks away. We had to drive, however, because we had to check out of the hotel. The parking garage was easy to get in and cost only $6 with a validated admission ticket from the H.o.F.

Boy, what a place! From the minute I went in, memories of my childhood came rushing back. There are times I get on myself for being shallow, for not remembering things exactly the way they were -- maybe because I wasn't paying attention well enough. Maybe I was only seeing what I wanted to see or retain things that I felt comfortable with or at least wasn't very threatened by. Perhaps I led too sheltered of a life in middle America and wasn't exposed to all the "stuff" others of my generation were. I think it's hard to get a good perspective on something that big when you're living it, when there are no rules yet, nobody telling you this or that is what you should have remembered and taken note of. But, as I walked through the exhibits, things from the late 50's, 60's and 70's looked like they were being taken straight from an encyclopedia buried somewhere deep in my brain.

I was happy to see the personal stories, the old equipment, the old 45's and LP's, the old costumes. I got a real glow when I saw a section on transistor radios, walkmen and 8-tracks. I remembered sitting in the back, right-hand seat of my dad's car when we would go places with that brand-spanking-new transistor radio glued to my ear. It was special because it had a "gen-u-ine" leather case. Boy did I go through those little 9-volt batteries.

The Hall of Fame also did a nice job of reminding us of what those artists had to go through in the early days -- government interference, intimidation and harassment, racism, drugs, alcohol, violence, and such. They presented the information, but didn't beat us over the head with it. Most of us remember that part too.

Like a lot of people my age, I couldn't leave without a stop in the gift shop. We got a cool little shirt for our grandson, some post cards ,a 2-disc CD of 60's classics (I have to admit, I'm still hooked on music from that era) and I got that cool hat shown above. I was particularly drawn to it because I know when I wear it there will be those who ask what kind of alien symbol that is. I prefer to think of it as my way of saying: "If you have to ask, you're too young."

A memory is what is left when something happens and does not completely unhappen. (Edward de Bono)

HOOAH

p.s. The yellow disc on the hat was what one used to play 45's on a record player that only had the little record spindle on it. It took a little patience and some practice to get them to work, but it enabled you to listen to the Four Tops, the Temptations, the Beatles, etc. on your parents' stereo!!