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!!

Not quite the way I remembered it...

Have I mentioned lately I have a GREAT wife!! Well, if not let me remind you of a couple of things. Remember, she is the one who gave me a tremendous son, has managed this household while I've been off doing all the things I have done in coaching, teaching, Army, etc., bought me my first flying lesson, and most recently gave me two tickets to a Cleveland Browns game (my Christmas present last year).

We had the opportunity to purchase them for the Dallas game. I went on line in July as instructed by the Browns ticket office to try to purchase two seats. Unfortunately, I got on line at 9:15 of the day they went on sale to the general public. Yep, you guessed it -- they were already sold out of all general admission tickets at any price for any game!!AAAARRRRGH!!

So I had to go thru Ticketmaster. No luck there. They referred me to their sister company, the "This is really gonna cost you" ticket depot. I had to purchase two tickets (at a greatly inflated price I might add) from some guy in California. What the heck is a guy in California doing with Browns tickets. That should be illegal. Oh well, I now had my two tickets and a date with my favorite gal. While we were there we would also take in the Rock-n-Roll Hall of Fame. But I didn't see how that would be of any significance after being at a BROWNS game.
We walked over to the stadium, past the numerous tailgate parties going on, only to find the Ohio State Marching Band holding court outside the stadium. I have to admit, they did sound nice, and lots of people continuously did their "OH-IO" thing. In fact, there were lots and lots of people standing around watching them perform and no one seemed to be in any hurry to get in to the game which was slated to start in 30 minutes. That should have been a sign. At kick-off, it looked like there were still 20,000 people trying to get in.

I'm going to try to cut to the quick -- we were in the UPPER reaches of the Dog Pound, about 10 rows from the top of the stadium. Sitting all around us were Dallas fans -- drunk, obnoxious, loud, Dallas fans. They didn't mix too well with the drunk, sometimes equally obnoxious Browns fans (although the Browns fans weren't quite so bad after the second quarter started , being down by 24 points already). There were no less than 6 fights in the stands, a few people spilling their beers, and some throwing up. The cops and stadium security guys got a workout running up all those steps. But the day was beautiful, the sky was a bright blue and the lake looked stupendous. A Chamber of Commerce day -- other than the game.

Well, we went back to the hotel (Marriott -- very nice place) which was only a few blocks from the site of the massacre. It was a nice walk. Oh, did I mention that the Dallas team and staff and several charter flights worth of people from Dallas were also staying there. Lots of partying in the hotel bars. There's just something about a whole bar full of people shouting "How 'bout dem Cowboys" that makes you want to go somewhere else to try to get something to eat.

I really thought this was going to be a special trip down memory lane. The last time I saw a live Browns game in Cleveland was when I went with my brother and dad. I was only in grade school at the time, and there could have been all this stuff going on, but I didn't remember it that way. I guess that's one of the good things about memories, they tend to magnify the good things and come back to the surface more easily.

So pardon me if I don't buy any more tickets to one of their games. If all the nonsense in the stands doesn't drive you away, the 40-some time outs in the game will. Yeah, I'll still watch it on TV. Oh, and don't get me wrong, for all their inept play and coaching, I still root for them. What's my alternative -- the Bengals???


Memory is a complicated thing, a relative to truth, but not its twin. (Barbara Kingsolver, Animal Dreams)

Hooah

p.s. The Rock-n-Roll Hall of Fame was great. I'll write about it next.