Hey, kids, you're grandparents are tired. It's time for you to do your part. Yeah, you may not know it... It may be impossible for you to imagine, but your nana & bampy were worldchangers. Go ahead, ask them what they were doing when THEIR friends were being fed to the war machine. Made fun of a hippie recently?
Or maybe you're grandfather participated in the craziness. Odds are against it, but if he did, is he asking you to get overseas and do your part? Do you even know what I'm talking about? It's more than just something you read about in a history book.
What is your part in this story?
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Friday, May 12, 2006
Now the Work Begins
I took my macroeconomics final today. It went well. Now that finals are over, the real work begins. I start my summer internship on Monday. I found out yesterday that I am being sent out of state to a rural landfill project. It happens to be very near to a State Park that I camped in for a week the summer before I went back to school. I spent the morning getting my camper ready, but the campground isn't open yet, so I'll spend the first week in a hotel. BTW, the ladies at the town office were most helpful, as I arrived woefully unprepared. They even offered to feed me.
I'm excited about how much I'm going to learn this summer, but I'm a bit terrified too. I'm not a spring chicken and it's been 2 years since I've done any real physical labor, and I will be busting my ass. I don't mind, I just hope my boss understands if it takes me a couple of weeks to get back to fighting shape.
So, I'll try to post when I get a chance to get home. In the meantime friends, stay strong. Much love.
I'm excited about how much I'm going to learn this summer, but I'm a bit terrified too. I'm not a spring chicken and it's been 2 years since I've done any real physical labor, and I will be busting my ass. I don't mind, I just hope my boss understands if it takes me a couple of weeks to get back to fighting shape.
So, I'll try to post when I get a chance to get home. In the meantime friends, stay strong. Much love.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Just Like in the Movies
Today was the funeral, and the weather was made for it. Overcast, gray and misting rain. Take out the preacher and hymns (although cousin S. gave a beautiful rendition of "Amazing Grace") and you couldn't ask for a better funeral. I heard some great stories about Al today. I think you could have gone to this funeral today having never met Al, and come away feeling you'd missed out on something special. You'd be right.
Al had gone golfing last Friday with his younger son. He told us the score was within 3 strokes, but he wouldn't say which way.
Apparently, between heart attacks on Saturday, he had his nurses in stitches with the testicle story. If I could script my exit, it would look alot like Al's.
Al's oldest son, Rick, told us the story of a visiting vacation. Al needed a new battery for his car. Rick, knowing of his father's thriftiness, expected him to choose the cheapest of some 8 models that fit his car. Instead, he noticed Al eyeing a very expensive model. "This one's got an 8 year warranty." Rick thought that surely, at Al's age he wouldn't buy that expensive battery. Well, he did. Rick checked under the hood, and wouldn't you know that warranty expired this month.
Al kept a bottle of Single Malt Scotch. I forget what he was saving it for, but it was 57 years old. I noticed that it was missing when I was over there today. I have a pretty good idea where it is. Cheers, Al!
Al had gone golfing last Friday with his younger son. He told us the score was within 3 strokes, but he wouldn't say which way.
Apparently, between heart attacks on Saturday, he had his nurses in stitches with the testicle story. If I could script my exit, it would look alot like Al's.
Al's oldest son, Rick, told us the story of a visiting vacation. Al needed a new battery for his car. Rick, knowing of his father's thriftiness, expected him to choose the cheapest of some 8 models that fit his car. Instead, he noticed Al eyeing a very expensive model. "This one's got an 8 year warranty." Rick thought that surely, at Al's age he wouldn't buy that expensive battery. Well, he did. Rick checked under the hood, and wouldn't you know that warranty expired this month.
Al kept a bottle of Single Malt Scotch. I forget what he was saving it for, but it was 57 years old. I noticed that it was missing when I was over there today. I have a pretty good idea where it is. Cheers, Al!
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Finals, a Root Canal and a Funeral
You just can't make a week like this up.
Finals week always sucks. I don't need to say much about that. Root canals... they make it tough to study. Let's talk about the funeral. It's really on my mind.
First, Al (name altered) had the audacity to die at a time that caused his funeral to conflict with my macroeconomics final. When I emailed my professor about the problem, he graciously offered to allow me to take the final at another time, but it would mean that the format would be changed from 100% multiple choice to 50% multiple choice 50% essay. Perhaps I should have left it at that, but it somehow struck me as wrong that I should be given a more difficult test at a time where it would be more difficult for me to study for it. I said as much and was told that the test was no more difficult, just a different format. To that, I responded that a M.C. test is inherently easier because the answer is in front of you. My professor curtly dismissed the matter, and I told him I was appalled by his lack of empathy. That pissed him off, but he agreed to give me a MC test. I can hardly wait to see this test. I really need to learn to keep my mouth shut.
So, about Al. He was 91, and he was my buddy. Al married my wife's Nana 10 years ago. In fact, I proposed to my wife on their wedding day. He lived healthily until the day that he died. He just plain tuckered out. I believe he was on a ladder the day before he died, cleaning out his gutters. He was a gentleman. He was a storyteller. He told a story in a way that we Yankees appreciate. He would tell the most fantastic story with as much fanfare as most of us would read a grocery list. He did it in away that makes you stop him and ask, "What did you just say?" He knew Ty Cobb. Didn't have much to say to say about Ty, because Al was a gentleman, like I said.
My favorite story came during one of our hunting trips. BTW, I hated hunting with Al, because everything Al did, he did better than anyone else. By which I mean, he was always the last one out of the woods and always well after sunset. I always imagined having to explain to Nana that I lost her 85 year old husband in the woods. Anyway, during one of our trips, we were heading to one of his old spots, and he's telling me in great detail about every deer he ever shot in this piece of woods when he says, "Right over there is where my first wife shot me in 196*." Then on to another deer story.
"What did you just say?"
"I said it was a six pointer, dressed out at 172".
"No, before that."
"Oh, my first wife shot me. Lost my left testicle. I'm pretty sure it was an accident. She seemed pretty broke up about it, and she did help me get out of the woods."
How can you not love this guy.
I used to golf with him too. He could drive a ball about 75 yards, but he consistently kicked my ass. He had a way of talking me into trouble that I hadn't even noticed. "Watch that pond on the far right. "
"What pond?" Whack." Oh!" He almost always had to give me a couple of balls to finish the round. He got quite a kick out of how easy it was to get me off my game.
He was a widower and Nana was a widow and they were about the happiest couple I knew. Nana is pretty broke up about it.
Finals week always sucks. I don't need to say much about that. Root canals... they make it tough to study. Let's talk about the funeral. It's really on my mind.
First, Al (name altered) had the audacity to die at a time that caused his funeral to conflict with my macroeconomics final. When I emailed my professor about the problem, he graciously offered to allow me to take the final at another time, but it would mean that the format would be changed from 100% multiple choice to 50% multiple choice 50% essay. Perhaps I should have left it at that, but it somehow struck me as wrong that I should be given a more difficult test at a time where it would be more difficult for me to study for it. I said as much and was told that the test was no more difficult, just a different format. To that, I responded that a M.C. test is inherently easier because the answer is in front of you. My professor curtly dismissed the matter, and I told him I was appalled by his lack of empathy. That pissed him off, but he agreed to give me a MC test. I can hardly wait to see this test. I really need to learn to keep my mouth shut.
So, about Al. He was 91, and he was my buddy. Al married my wife's Nana 10 years ago. In fact, I proposed to my wife on their wedding day. He lived healthily until the day that he died. He just plain tuckered out. I believe he was on a ladder the day before he died, cleaning out his gutters. He was a gentleman. He was a storyteller. He told a story in a way that we Yankees appreciate. He would tell the most fantastic story with as much fanfare as most of us would read a grocery list. He did it in away that makes you stop him and ask, "What did you just say?" He knew Ty Cobb. Didn't have much to say to say about Ty, because Al was a gentleman, like I said.
My favorite story came during one of our hunting trips. BTW, I hated hunting with Al, because everything Al did, he did better than anyone else. By which I mean, he was always the last one out of the woods and always well after sunset. I always imagined having to explain to Nana that I lost her 85 year old husband in the woods. Anyway, during one of our trips, we were heading to one of his old spots, and he's telling me in great detail about every deer he ever shot in this piece of woods when he says, "Right over there is where my first wife shot me in 196*." Then on to another deer story.
"What did you just say?"
"I said it was a six pointer, dressed out at 172".
"No, before that."
"Oh, my first wife shot me. Lost my left testicle. I'm pretty sure it was an accident. She seemed pretty broke up about it, and she did help me get out of the woods."
How can you not love this guy.
I used to golf with him too. He could drive a ball about 75 yards, but he consistently kicked my ass. He had a way of talking me into trouble that I hadn't even noticed. "Watch that pond on the far right. "
"What pond?" Whack." Oh!" He almost always had to give me a couple of balls to finish the round. He got quite a kick out of how easy it was to get me off my game.
He was a widower and Nana was a widow and they were about the happiest couple I knew. Nana is pretty broke up about it.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Colbert
I've had some time to ponder Stephen Colbert's WHCD speech and I am now prepared to make few comments. I was going to call it a roast, but a roast is typically delivered by someone who actually either loves or at least respects the subject.
I think this may be the definitive moment that we have all been waiting for. The moment that we will look back on 30 years from now as the point where the vacuum seal was broken. Until this moment, we liberals had been unable to figure out a way to speak truth to evil and be heard. As cool and righteous as Neil Young and Pink are, this administration will not ever listen to them, which would be OK if the people would listen. They may not have before, but people will start now, because Stephen Colbert has finally made it cool to be in opposition to this administration.
I absolutely believe something has been set in motion here. Of course, my judgment is not to be trusted, as I am still amazed when I meet anyone who isn't a liberal. Actually, I never have met someone who isn't liberal. Everyone I've ever met believes that they should be allowed to conduct their lives according to their values without outside interference. But, I digress.
How did I end up taking up for a Catholic from South Carolina? WTF?
In unrelated news, I live in the state with the lowest per capita murder rate in the country, and we don't have the death penalty. That's right, suck on it!
P.S. - Hi to LGND's mom!
I think this may be the definitive moment that we have all been waiting for. The moment that we will look back on 30 years from now as the point where the vacuum seal was broken. Until this moment, we liberals had been unable to figure out a way to speak truth to evil and be heard. As cool and righteous as Neil Young and Pink are, this administration will not ever listen to them, which would be OK if the people would listen. They may not have before, but people will start now, because Stephen Colbert has finally made it cool to be in opposition to this administration.
I absolutely believe something has been set in motion here. Of course, my judgment is not to be trusted, as I am still amazed when I meet anyone who isn't a liberal. Actually, I never have met someone who isn't liberal. Everyone I've ever met believes that they should be allowed to conduct their lives according to their values without outside interference. But, I digress.
How did I end up taking up for a Catholic from South Carolina? WTF?
In unrelated news, I live in the state with the lowest per capita murder rate in the country, and we don't have the death penalty. That's right, suck on it!
P.S. - Hi to LGND's mom!
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