They say we all turn into our parents eventually. When this happens is probably different for everybody, but I tend to think it begins once you have your own children and you find yourself using phrases, and doing things your parents used to do. We all remember certain sayings are parents would repeat over and over to emphasize a point they wanted to make. My mom always used that timeless classic….

“because I said so”……

Looking back at my childhood, I might have been a rather annoying child because another saying I always remember my mother repeating was…..

“just give me 5 minutes of quiet”…..

Of course she might have been referring to my other two siblings more than me, but I remember most times when she said this, I was the only one in the room.

There’s a series of insurance commercials currently running…..aren’t most commercials now-a-days insurance commercials, are we this poorly insured or incapable of finding insurance somehow that we need an endless loop of commercials reminding us we need insurance, but at least they are humorous…..this set of commercials highlights the very fact that people turn into their parents and exhibit behaviors like their parents. A therapist conducts seminars to help them try to not become their parents….like I said, at least the commercials are humorous, but I tend to think it’s all in vain….we all become are parents.

My mom also had this tendency to combine snacks…..she didn’t like a bunch of bags or boxes of snacks that were half gone. She probably could have invented Chex Mix back in the 70’s if she had a little foresight because there were numerous times I began eating a bag of chips to find that there were also pretzels, Chex cereal, Cheez-its and peanuts in with the chips.

The other day I was standing in front of the pantry staring at 4 boxes of cereal, 2 of which I knew without even picking up that there was less than 1/3 of cereal left in them, but of course nobody likes to be the one to finish a box of cereal when it gets low. Your left with the conundrum of either not having enough to make a full bowl or having enough for a bowl but it’s mainly crumbs and cereal dust….and nobody likes to eat cereal dust. My son also has this habit of eating the same cereal everyday for 2 months or so, then he grows tired of it and switches to a new cereal just after he’s opened a fresh box. I know exactly what cereal he was eating 2 months ago because a half a box of it is still in the pantry.

That’s when I found myself mumbling about needing room in the pantry and the need to get rid of these almost gone cereals, but of course I didn’t want to just throw them away….that would be wasteful.

Much to my son’s surprise, his next bowl of cereal will be…..Honey nut raisin cinnamon toast corn puffs.

Other thoughts……

I haven’t been doing much writing lately….a combination of lack of time, lack of subjects and general malaise. I find myself “writing” things in my head….but that’s probably the worst place to write because I’m usually busy and don’t have the time to actually write down what I’m thinking.

I recently saw a documentary on Ernest Hemingway, and he always devoted his mornings to writing, which was rather amazing because it seemed he always devoted his evenings to drinking. I have neither the time to do the one nor the desire to do the other……so I guess I’m no Hemingway…but you probably already knew that if you’ve read any of my blog postings. I dare say Hemingway never wrote about Nutella, so I’ve got one on ol’ Ernest.

I actually have a couple of stories I’ve partially written and saved on my blog, but I haven’t finished them enough to post them. Looking back at them, I’m not sure if they’ll be good enough to post or if they were ever good enough to start.

I recently read an interesting essay on writers and the process of writing, and one of the main points the author made was that the process of writing sucks until it all comes together at the end.

I had never heard of this author who wrote this essay, but he had some wonderful experiences…..one time he was in Pampolona Spain attending the festival where they run the bulls through the streets and he found himself in a small bar sitting across from a gentleman who introduced himself as someone else but who was clearly Ernest Hemingway….the white beard, the large imposing features….Pappa in all his glory, and this was before it was a “thing” to dress up and impersonate famous people. No, it was clearly Hemingway attending the festival that one of his famous books, The Sun Also Rises, was based upon, but trying to do so incognito, which is fairly humorous in itself.

The author of this essay was also friends with Peter Benchley in the 70’s, he of a little book called Jaws, which made for a frightful summer at the beach the year the movie came out. Apparently the author was complaining to Benchley that writing was difficult and questioning why he even tried to do it. Benchley, listened patiently for awhile and then asked a simple question…..

“if you no longer had to write because you had made enough money from it to live off, would you still do it?”……

I believe that’s what’s called a rhetorical question…

and now I feel like a snack…….I think there’s a bag of pretzel cheez-its peanut chips in the pantry….somebody’s been combining cereal and snacks again

Stay healthy and be kind….

John

How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you were?

I love that saying, it makes you think about what you do and how you live your life. Your actual age is just a number that signifies when you were born….but how old are you?

Sometimes I look in the mirror, like really look in the mirror, not just a cursory look as I get ready in the morning. I’ll turn my head this way and that, I’ll notice lines and wrinkles….was that one there before…..? did that one deepen….? Sometimes I feel the way I look, but other times I catch a glimpse of the younger guy I used to be. If I’m really thinking about it, I wonder what happened to him and where did the time go….silly I know, but it happens. Everyone’s different….the things I do that I think keep me feeling young just might be the things that are aging me. I hope not, but there are times when my knees and back tell me differently.

I recently spent a long weekend in Florida. The main purpose of my trip was to visit my parents who spend their winters there, but I was also glad to go and leave a cold Michigan winter for a few days.

My parents live in a senior manufactured home park. It’s nice….there’s a clubhouse for activities and a pool to float in. My parents have been there awhile so they know everyone. This winter has been difficult….because of the pandemic, the clubhouse is closed for activities, the number of people at the pool is limited. My dad no longer has an interest in going anywhere. The kitchen table, the patio, the living room, the bedroom…..he moves between these four places throughout the day.

I watch him slowly maneuver his walker down the steps and out the door. Even with a walker, I hold my breath, hoping he doesn’t fall. An outstretched hand or arm meant for support is sometimes met with a glare or an irritated wave, so it’s best to let him go and be there if he asks for help. He glances at the newspaper, no longer that interested in actually reading it. He tries to complete one of his word puzzles but he gives up after only finding half of the words. He dozes on the patio, a fleece jacket covering him in the 80 degree heat. From the table on the patio, he can see everyone walking by, he knows them all but has no interest in conversation.

The kitchen table, the patio, the living room, the bedroom……

On the wall of the dining room is a large clock. It’s the only object on that wall so your eyes are drawn to it. You can see it from both the kitchen and the living room. It was there when my parents moved in….their place came fully furnished, the previous owner had passed away and the family just wanted to sell it. It’s one of those clocks that you can hear the second hand…..tick, tick, tick, tick,….60 seconds in a minute, 60 minutes in an hour…..tick, tick, tick, tick, ….round and round.

I glanced at it one time when I was cleaning up the kitchen and the house was quiet. I glanced at it again and began walking over to it. The loud ticking of the second hand seemed to echo throughout the house, but as I got closer I realized there was no second hand. I peered really close….the ticking was even louder as I got closer, but the second hand wasn’t there.

It was then that I noticed the face reflecting back at me…..it startled me and I took a step back…I even turned around to see if anyone was behind me, but I knew whose face it was…..tick, tick, tick, tick.

Someday, my mom will sell their place in Florida and move back to Michigan full-time. She doesn’t like the heat as much as my dad does, and she’ll be closer to family, friends and grand-kids. A new family will move in….they probably won’t even notice the clock on the wall…..they’ll be friends to entertain and family will come visit, the beaches are close by and probably by then the clubhouse and pool will be open.

No, they probably won’t even notice the clock on the wall….but someday in the future when there’s fewer parties to go to and the kids and grand-kids don’t come by as much, and the house is quiet, they’ll hear it.

tick, tick, tick, tick……..

“The greatest threat to our planet is the belief that someone else will save it.”

-Robert Swan

explorer & climate activist

*authors note….I sometimes struggle when choosing a title…it wouldn’t seem that hard, in fact you would think that most stories write their own title’s and sometimes that happens, but occasionally I sit here and stare at the screen trying to think of the perfect title that will grab a readers attention and draw them in. For instance, this story was going to be called… A Walk in the Woods….but I realized that I had already used that title on a previous blog post. About 2 years ago I wrote a story of my son and I hiking through the woods, he was 16 at the time and we discussed those issues that are important to a teenager. It’s perhaps my favorite story, so if you haven’t read it, please check it out after reading this one. Sometimes the best titles are the simple ones and there’s nothing more simple than a 1 word title, and that’s how this story got this title*

I’ve been doing more hiking this winter. I’ve found it to be both enjoyable and a great way to get outside at a time of year when it can be a struggle to find a reason to be outside. You may think that hiking in the woods in the winter is less than ideal, but I would disagree. Sure the ground is frozen and can be snowy and icy and in places it can be slippery, but it’s also a symphony for the senses. The snow crunching beneath your boots, the cold, raw air filling your lungs, your breath visible as you exhale after climbing a hill. The occasional sounds of birds or other woodland creatures scurrying about searching for food in the dwindling daylight hours.

Yes, winter is perhaps the second best time of year for hiking in the woods. I think we can all agree that fall is the best with the leaves changing colors and the heat of the summer gone. Spring is actually the worst, the woods are muddy and wet from the spring rains and the melting of the earth. There’s about a 3 week period between spring and summer that’s ideal for a hike through the woods, but then the heat of the summer means the woods will quickly become overgrown with brush and filled with bugs, mosquitos and tics, making a trip to the woods more annoyance than pleasure.

On a recent Saturday morning, I was told that “someone” had left the door to the basement open and a draft was coming up the stairs chilling the whole house, and then “someone” had put a dark t-shirt into the wrong laundry hamper and do you even know what would happen to all the whites if a dark t-shirt was washed with them.

Now, I’m no expert on the chemical properties of t-shirt dye and how it mixes and runs with the hot water and soap of laundry detergent, but I did realize it was time to go for a hike….a long hike.

I am fortunate enough to live about 15 minutes from a county park that has miles of hiking trails. In a normal winter with plentiful snow fall, there’s a wonderful sledding hill that’s packed on the weekends with parents and kids careening down the hill, the sounds of laughter and yelling filling the air. But this winter there has been a surprising lack of snow which meant a bare sledding hill and a virtually empty park, a bonus for me as I prefer to have the trails to myself, my thoughts filling my head and ideas coming and going…now don’t get me wrong, I love the idea of lots of people outside exercising and enjoying nature and the world about them, I just prefer if we’re not on the same trail at the same time to avoid that awkward moment when you realize your going at a different pace and you have to decide whether to speed up to pass them or slow down a little. I invariably slow down a little, but then I realize it would just be better to pass them and I speed up to get around them as quick as possible.

The first 15 minutes of my hike I followed the trail along the river. The above average temperatures meant that the river was not frozen and it ran high and fast. I stopped for a few minutes to watch it and I would like to tell you that during those couple of minutes I thought about how winters seemed much different than when I was a kid, it seemed like we always had lots of snow for sledding and skiing. I would like to tell you how I was thinking about global warming and how it’s affecting our world around us, how the ice caps and glaciers are melting resulting in a changing habitat for polar bears and penguins, how even a slight rise in the temperatures can cause catastrophic effects on nature.

What I was actually thinking about was when I was a kid, I would throw a stick into a river and then run alongside the bank following it downstream. I would imagine a frog or tadpole would climb aboard the stick and ride on it like it was his boat. I would chase after the stick until I could no longer keep up with it and the river took it out of sight. I would stand there wondering what had become of the stick and wondering how far it would go downstream.

The river made a gentle turn and went out of sight as the path went the other way. I trudged along stepping carefully as the path become more slippery with patches of snow and ice. The path was going more into the woods and the trees lining it meant that the sun rarely reached this area. The sound of the rushing river had been replaced by the sound of silence, only my boots crunching on the ground across the snow and ice.

A few minutes later, coming in the opposite direction, I encountered the first other people I had seen in the park. I recognized them, not that I knew them, but I knew who they were. There is a monastery in our county and the 4 men approaching me were monks. The long black robes and long beards gave them away. I’ve been to their monastery with deliveries, it’s a beautiful, large piece of land out in the country. It’s surrounded by woods and has a large pond, it’s so large that the word pond doesn’t do it justice, it’s actually more like an in-land lake. I’m not quite sure how many monks are there or what they do….perhaps they make candles and wine and meditate all day.

These monks were not on a vow of silence as they approached me. They all seemed to be talking excitedly and one was even waving his hands wildly. As I got closer to them I wondered if I would hear a deep philosophical conversation about religion or mans place in the universe, so I was a little disappointed as we passed each other that I heard the words “Tik-Tok” being spoken and something about the latest dance one of them had seen. Hmmm, I wondered, have the monks given up the wine and candle making and they spend their days making “Tik-Tok” videos hoping they go viral? Could this be a new phenomenon, the “Tik-Toking” monks of Michigan? Perhaps these monks weren’t as orthodox as I had thought, perhaps they had fully embraced social media and were “Instagramming” their days and “tweeting” updates from the monastery, perhaps they even had “followers” who checked in every day.

I was still thinking about the social media monks when I came upon a split in the trail. I stood there, the Robert Frost poem about the different paths we travel popped into my head.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

The one path went straight and was much like the trail I was on, flat with some snow covering it. The other path went up a hill and was covered in snow and ice. Usually I like a good climb and a challenge.

I stood there for a while and pondered my next move, actually I stood there far longer than I should have and I realized I was making this far more difficult than it needed to be, it was just choosing between 2 paths on a hike in the woods on a cold January day. The path before me, the flat one, was well traveled as evidence from the numerous footprints in the snow. The path leading to the hill showed hardly any footprints, and the hill was icy so it was hard to tell if anyone had climbed it recently. I looked around, there was no one else near me, no one else watching, no one to prod me one way or the other.

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

I took the flat path straight in front of me. I didn’t want to risk slipping and sliding on the hill and perhaps falling or turning an ankle….and I instantly regretted it. I silently cursed myself….why did I take this “safe path?”

This path was well traveled but had no adventure to it, the other path went up a hill and who knows what was at the top, there could have been many more paths and adventures at the top of that hill, and the path I was on, the safe path, the path well traveled by many others was leading me nowhere. I thought about turning around and going back and charging up that hill slippery conditions be damned, but honestly I hate turning around, I hate going back, I hate the regrets. Maybe it’s simply I hate admitting I should have done the other thing…I had made a poor decision and it bothered me.

But as so often happens when hiking in the woods or in life, another opportunity soon presented itself with another fork in the trail, and once again I was standing before a path leading to a hill or I could continue on the path I was on.

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back

Well, I think you know where this is headed, I turned toward the path leading to the hill. The hill was covered in snow and ice, and I slipped more than once and almost fell. I wondered if I actually did fall, would I slide all the way back down the hill ?

I reached the top a short time later and looked about. From my vantage point I could see most of the park, the river off in the distance, the trails I had been on and the ones still to be discovered. They would have to wait for another day as the January light was quickly fading.

I hope I don’t disappoint you, because if you’ve read this far, you’re probably thinking that I have some great wisdom to tell you about paths in the woods and life’s journey….but I don’t. I will tell you this….getting up that hill wasn’t half as difficult as getting down that damned thing, and perhaps there’s a lesson to be learned from that…but I’ll let you decide for yourself.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages ages hence;

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

*authors note…..yes, TWO authors notes on ONE blog….while researching the poem by Frost, I came across an interesting story written by his biographer and since I found it on the internet, it must be true. It seems that Frost sent a rough draft of this poem to a literary friend/critic in England. Evidently they used to go walking in the woods when they were younger and this friend would always lament that they should have taken a different path. So Frost wrote this poem as a way to poke fun of his friend. His friend, not at all seeing himself in the poem but seeing the deeper meaning in the words, wrote back to Frost saying something like “hey, I think you’ve got something here.” They proceeded to exchange a couple of more letters each trying to get their point across, and eventually the friend must have convinced Frost of the worthiness of his work….and we are all the beneficiary’s of it. *

Journey well, friends….

John

I received an e-mail the other day. Who or where it came from, I’m not sure…..usually I just delete most of my e-mails unless it’s from somebody I know, but this one caught my eye…or should I say the headline caught my eye.

25 amazing gifts that women actually want

Yes, it’s that time of year when people make lists. Some lists are the wonderful, sweet lists…think kids writing to Santa Claus. Other lists are the spouse type lists where neither spouse wants to deal with the disappointment or hassle of returning a gift so they play it safe and get suggestions of sure-fire gifts that will not disappoint. I used to be that husband that would ask for suggestions, but I always made sure to get at least 1 or 2 gifts that were a surprise.

Unfortunately it was these “surprise” gifts that were usually being returned, and since I was the one doing the returning, I’ve long ago given up on the idea of surprise Christmas gifts for my spouse. Which brings me back to this e-mail….I love these gift lists that come out every year that supposedly know what women really want. I’m betting an article like this has been written every year since the beginning of Christmas, even back in pre-historic cave man times someone was making a list that said what a cave woman really wants…..

back then it was probably stuff like:

a bigger fire ( after all the neighbors fire burns all day)

a sharper stone for cutting

a bear skin rug for the cave and so on….

Well dear reader I have taken the time to actually read the list so you don’t have to and I will summarize the findings so if you need something that a women actually wants then keep reading.

Number 1 on the list: pajamas…hmm, I must say I’m very impressed with this first item because that’s actually a really good gift, although they say that pajamas are always a great gift because people rarely buy them for themselves….I’m not too sure about that, but ok. The problem with guys buying pajamas is that we have an entirely different idea of what pajamas to buy. Most guys, me included, think of women’s pajamas as silky and see through with strategically placed snaps for easy access, but most women want big, flannel or fleece pajamas that are warm and comfy. Younger me would have bought the silky ones, but with age comes a little bit of wisdom….guys, if you’re buying pajamas buy the flannel or fleece ones that are warm and comfy…that’s what she wants.

Item 2: and we have the first totally awful gift idea that no women actually wants….

a one-step hair dryer and volumizer

I’m not even sure what this is or does, I mean I get the hair dryer, part but the volumizer….huh? All I can picture is the poor guy who actually buys this and says proudly on Christmas morning…

“hey babe, I got you a hair dryer AND volumizer, because I noticed the hair dryer you have, is you know just a hair dryer.”…….hard pass on this guys. Part of the joy of receiving a gift is telling other people about the gift and no lady is going to brag to her friends about the one-step hair dryer and volumizer.

Item 3 and we have are first kitchen gadget…something called

The Always Pan…..and according to this list, this might be the hottest gift of 2020. It says it’s influencer approved….well duh, of course it is. Again according to the article, it’s stylish and does the work of eight pieces of cookware. It’s a fry pan, saute pan, steamer, skillet, saucier, saucepan, non-stick pan, spatula, and spoon rest. How a pan is a spatula and spoon rest, I’m not sure but it checks in at $145 so I suppose it might be all this and more…..but let’s be real, if I’m going to pay $145 for a single pan, then I want a pan that puts itself in the dishwasher and then remembers to start the dishwasher, which can be a problem in our household and yes I might be the source of that problem.

The next couple of items would seem to go together:

Yoga mat and yoga pants….

My wife and I occasionally do yoga, no not together, good lord we’re not one of those couples. I just checked our basement and for some reason we have 5 yoga mats. I have no idea how we accumulated 5 yoga mats since only 1 mat is used during yoga. Therefore I will not be buying another one, in fact I’m looking to get rid of a couple, so if you need one, let me know.

And do I even need to say why buying pants for a woman is a bad idea? Just no….don’t do it….. just pass…. it’s an argument waiting to happen and if you don’t know why, then there’s really no hope for you and your gift buying.

The next item:

A Cozy Throw Blanket

This always seems like a good idea, I mean who amongst could resist a cozy throw blanket. The problem is we have many cozy throw blankets scattered throughout the house. We have more throw blankets than people, but each of us has our favorite, so all the other ones are rarely used. So before you buy this, count how many people you have in your house and if you already have more cozy throws than people, then you don’t need a new one.

Cozy Chic Cardigan

Notice how blankets, pajamas and sweaters are described as cozy……at this point you need to determine if the person you’re buying this for is a sweater person or a sweatshirt person….and whether this person is a cardigan sweater person. Could be the perfect gift or the gift you’re standing in a return line trying to get store credit for….or as stated earlier with pants…just avoid buying clothes for women.

This next one might be my personal favorite…..in fact it’s described as being for the person who likes to “instagram” their food:

The Cheese Board

But get this, it’s not just a board to place cheese on and take pictures of ….no, it’s also a cutting board and lazy Susan and “people love the rustic look” …….I suppose if your totally clueless about what to purchase, than a cheese board, cutting board, lazy Susan combo might just be the perfect gift….and you’ll soon find out on Christmas morning from the expression on your wife/girlfriends face when she opens it.

At this point I think you get the gist of this list…..there’s more kitchen appliances, another hair dryer, 2 vacuums, something called a volcano jar candle….huh?…..another blanket, some slippers, an oil diffuser, and a goose down jacket.

Yes all these gifts are probably items that somebody wants, but are they really Christmas gifts? Are they really gifts that are going to be remembered with fondness and love months from now or even years from now, or are they gifts that will be in the next garage sale, soon to be replaced by another kitchen gadget or cozy throw.

I’ve discovered it’s not how much you spend, or if the gift is the latest and greatest or if it’s “influencer approved”…..the best gifts come from the heart and it doesn’t matter how much it costs, but if it has a personal connection then it’ll probably be cherished for years to come and not end up in the next garage sale.

Be kind, enjoy the Holidays and Peace

John

I looked out my window the other morning into the back yard. There’s a bird feeder back there and I’ll glance out the window to see if there’s any activity at the feeder. On this particular morning I saw a sight I had never seen before, there were 5 bluejays at the feeder. I had never before seen more than 2 or maybe 3 bluejays around the feeder. The sight of 5 bluejays around the feeder was so interesting that I stood there transfixed for many minutes. How do 5 bluejays all come to the same feeder at the same time I wondered. Were they all part of the same family, or maybe it was a gang of bluejays marauding around pillaging every feeder in the neighborhood.

Or maybe, just maybe it happened like this:

The 5 bluejays meet every morning on the power line in the middle of the neighborhood. From there they decide what feeders to hit for breakfast and make plans for their day. There’s 4 older birds named Mort, Stan, Art and Murray (everyone always gets Mort and Murray confused) and there’s 1 younger bird named Kevin who is usually running late and the older birds give him grief, but they look out for him like a younger brother. This morning was no exception.

“Morning Art,”…

“Morning Murray, … where’s everyone?”

“Dunno, just got here, but I’m sure the kid’s runnin late”…… they always call Kevin “the kid,” never Kevin.

Stan and Mort fly in almost simultaneously and the greetings continue.

“What’cha do this weekend ?”….Mort (or maybe it’s Murray, see I told you everyone gets them confused) asked Art.

“Oh, the wife wanted to go flyin around lookin’ at the colors, so we did that all afternoon.” I said, I said why you wanna go flyin around on the weekend, dont’cha do that all week?”

The 3 other birds all nodded in agreement having been there before themselves.

“I jus wanted to stay home and do some things around the nest, ya know get ready for winter, but no we gotta go flyin around”….

Again the other 3 birds nodded along, they all knew Art’s wife and they were glad none of them were married to her.

At this point I should tell you that Art has a very distinctive eastern accent, he was originally from New Jersey but relocated to the mid-west on the recommendation of his doctor who told him the cleaner air and less crowded conditions in the mid-west would be better for his health.

“Where’s the kid ?”….asked Stan, eager to shift the conversation away from Art’s wife.

“Dunno…” said Murray or maybe Mort….one of them also has an east coast accent, not because they lived there but because they’ve hung around with Art so much they just started talking like him….which you would think would make it easier to identify who Mort was and who Murray was but nope, everyone still gets them confused.

“The kid’s always late”…says Art no longer wanting to talk about his wife now that they can rag on “the kid.”

“Ya, the kid’s always late”….said Stan

“Sure is”….

“You can bet on it”….

“Kid’s these days….no respect for being on time or commitments or there elders,”

to this they all nodded in agreement…

“So, I was at the Anderson’s over the weekend”….said Mort

“The Anderson’s, which one is that ?”…replied Stan

“You know, the red house over there”….answered Mort

“That’s not the Anderson’s, that’s the O’Neil’s, the Anderson’s are the blue house”…

“No, youz guys are both wrong” piped in Art relishing the idea of getting in the middle of an argument…

“the Gladwell’s are the red house and the Thompson’s are the blue house”….

“what ?…neither one of those are right and besides your color blind”….retorted Stan also enjoying the argument.

This argument happened at least once a week and carried on for several minutes as they tried to determine who lived in what color house.

“Anyhow, I was at the red house and I saw the cutest little finch, I never saw her before but man you should have seen her tail-feathers”….at this point Mort let out a low whistle, not his usual bird whistle but more of a long appreciative male type whistle.

“Really, did you get her name?” asked Murray….

“Her name?….no I didn’t get her name, I was checking out her tail-feathers, why would I wanna know her name, I’m not dating her”….

“I just thought maybe you got her name, so if you see her again or maybe if I bumped into her then I could say “hi”, I’m a friend of Mort’s”….it was widely known that Murray was always looking for a younger bird to fly off with.

Just then out of nowhere, in a ruffle of feathers, Kevin came flying right into the middle of the group causing each bird to hop over one spot.

“Guys, guys, I got something to tell ya”…he started excitedly

“well, well look whose here”…

“well if it ain’t Mr. on-time”….

“where ya been kid, hanging out with that sparrow you met down south last year”….to this they all chuckled, but they were also a little jealous because that sparrow was really cute and they all wished they were younger and could hang out with her.

“what?…no” replied Kevin….

“guys, guys listen up” he tried again…

“I was over at the red house over there”….

“oh, you mean the Anderson’s,”… all 4 birds said simultaneously

“no, how many times do I have to tell ya, the Anderson’s are the brown house, the Gladwell’s are the red house”….although Kevin was always running late, and he could be a bit forgetful he was the only one who knew where everybody lived.

“guys, listen up, they have the good stuff”….

with this announcement he had the attention of all 4 birds

“whatcha mean, the good stuff ?”

“the good stuff, the nuts and the berries”….replied Kevin

“the good stuff ?…the nuts and the berries ?… you pulling my feathers, kid ?…cuz nobody has the good stuff this late in the year, they only have the nuts and the berries in the spring when they’re trying to lure us to their feeders….you sure about this kid ?”

“I’m sure, and they have two feeders and there both full”….with this information all 4 older birds gave a long, low whistle and began talking excitedly amongst themselves….

“did you hear that ?…2 feeders both full”…

“Ya, I heard…we gotta get going”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute, was there anyone else there ?…were the cardinals there ?”….Mort said this with a sneer for they all hated the cardinals….

“no, there’s nobody else there, just a couple of doves” ….replied Kevin

“doves ?…we knows how to get rid of a couple of doves, don’t we boyz”…..Art chortled …….it was assumed that because Art was from New Jersey that he had friends or family in the bird mafia because he was always talking about “getting rid of birds”

“alright boyz, lets fly, kid you lead the way”…..

And that’s how I ended up with 5 bluejays in my backyard feeder on a Monday morning

As always….be kind, feed the birds and Peace

John

There’s a spot in the warehouse at work, just at the end of the conveyor belt. If you stand at precisely the right angle you can see through the window of the warehouse door directly into the lobby. You can’t see the whole lobby just a very small part of it, but occasionally you can see if there are any customers in the lobby. I was standing in that spot the other morning when I glanced through the window into the lobby and I saw her.

I recognized her immediately, it had been years and I tried to think of how long, 10 no longer, 15 (?) possibly. She looked the same but a little older, meaning she still looked stunning. Her hair was lighter, she was probably coloring it, and I swear I could still see the beauty of her eyes, and although she was wearing a face mask covering her nose and mouth, I could still picture her smile….a smile that could melt hearts and make men swoon.

We had spent a summer together, she had moved back into town, and in hindsight she never really gave me a reason for coming back, and that in itself should have been a warning sign. We did all the summer things, went to concerts and ball games, beach parties and fireworks. We rode bikes and hiked in the woods, we stayed up late talking about life and how it could go sideways when you least expect it. A small part of me knew it couldn’t last, wouldn’t last, there was no way possible that she would continue to stay in this small town. She had always been the girl who wanted out, dreamed big, and you just knew it would happen for her.

As the long summer days dwindled, our time together was less frequent. Then she told me, she was leaving again, for good this time. Her old boyfriend had called and wanted her back, needed her back, he loved her and couldn’t live without her and she knew she loved him too. He had made some mistakes in the past but he was finally recognizing and admitting his mistakes. He had grown and most of all he was realizing what was important and he had changed.

If there had been emojis back then, my reaction would have been the hand hitting the forehead emoji. I think in a moment of regrettable anger I said something like….

“are you really believing his bullshit ?”

A flash of anger crossed her face, it was a look I had never seen before, more things were said and the anger grew, but I knew she was already gone.

I stood there looking through the window remembering all this in an instant. She glanced up and looked through the window and saw me. For a brief second our eyes locked, if she recognized me she didn’t show it and I quickly moved out of view. I waited a moment and looked back through the window, she was talking and laughing with our service rep and that’s when the pain hit me, the pain I thought had left long ago. It was her laugh and her voice I missed the most, she would sometimes get real close to me if we were in a crowded place and she’d start whispering in my ear, her voice soft and seductive. It was that voice that woke me up in the middle of the night for months after she left. And although I couldn’t hear her laugh through the warehouse door, I still remembered it and I wished I could be the one to make her laugh and smile.

“Hey, you gonna stand there all morning or are you gonna load some trucks ?” ….. a co-worker snapped me out of my remembrance. The conveyor belt was full, there were trucks to load and packages to deliver. I sighed suddenly knowing it was going to be a very long day with too many miles and too much time for thinking.

Since none of the following subjects are in-depth enough for their own blog post, its time for yet another edition of:

Random Thoughts Brain Dump…..end of summer edition

I was riding my bike this weekend on a long meandering trail through the woods. It went over ponds and through farm land with corn growing high and the beans nearly ready for harvest. It passed through some small Michigan towns where the big evening event is going for ice cream at the family owned ice cream stand. There were lots of other people out on the trail….families out enjoying the day together, couples spending an afternoon with each other, solo cyclists like myself, but most of the time there was nobody in front of me and nobody behind me.

Then I saw it, tossed to the side of the trail, wet and dirty from the previous nights rain. A year ago it would have been surprising, even shocking to see this on a bike trail in the woods, but now its neither surprising or shocking, in fact I see them all the time laying on the ground in parking lots, hanging from rear view mirrors in cars, dangling out of peoples pockets….of course I’m talking about the blue surgical face mask. When we reflect on the year 2020, and think of perhaps one symbol of the year, I think it’ll be the blue surgical face mask and all that that entails.

My new favorite Twitter follow is the Sheboygan Scanner. Yes, I know social media can be an awful place, especially Twitter with its limit on 240 characters per tweet it doesn’t leave much room for intelligent conversation. And yes, I’m as guilty as the next person when I say I spend too much time looking at my phone and laughing at the snarky comments. But there is some good content out there….funny dog and cat videos, videos of small children hearing their parents voice for the first time thanks to hearing implants ( I dare you to watch one of those and not get choked up ) and I even find some interesting and informative news articles that I wouldn’t have found anywhere else.

Back to the Sheboygan Scanner…like most government entities, Sheboygan has various social media accounts to keep in contact with the public. It’s a fast and easy way to get the word out and also let the general population contact them. The beauty of the Sheboygan Scanner twitter account is its simplicity. For each call to their emergency dispatch center they tweet out a one line sentence of the call with the street name. Of course, most of the calls are very serious….someone fell down and has a head injury, someones having breathing problems, a multi-car accident….and so on, but occasionally you get a rather harmless call that leaves your imagination to fill in the details.

In the past week, I’ve seen these calls come across Twitter….

vehicle vs. tree; airbags deployed….I’m guessing the tree won that one, perhaps the person was looking at their phone, texting or was on Twitter.

victim agreed to fight, changed mind when he was losing ……oh, if only it was that easy to get out of a fight once started.

man has knee pain, has been in chair since Thursday……not sure when this was called in, but I’m guessing it wasn’t the following day so that means that this poor man has been in his chair for multiple days with knee pain, but I suppose it’s better than what happened to this next gentleman…

man popped hip out….I don’t know how someone pops their hip out. I’ve thrown my back out a couple of times picking up something heavy but I can’t imagine popping a hip out. Did he recently take up karate and he was practicing and popped his hip out, or perhaps he was doing yoga and he was deep into a Warrior 2 stretch when it happened. My imagination likes to think that perhaps he was having some wild, passionate sex with his partner when his hip popped out….we’ll probably never know…..or how about this gentleman…

man in 60’s, found on sidewalk….now before you think of me as callous and uncaring, it doesn’t say he fell and was injured or he was wandering around possibly lost, it just says man found on sidewalk. I’m betting the wife had something to do with this. She was tired of seeing him sitting around all day, so she told him to go get the mail, then she locked the doors for the day and he was left outside. He probably had nothing to do so he ended up sitting on the sidewalk. See nothing bad there except a couple that’s been married too long….but my personal favorite is….

trampoline in ditch….I’m guessing this is an item that didn’t sell at a weekend yard sale, and somehow ended up in the ditch. The trampoline was bought at the beginning of the pandemic as a way to keep the kids busy and out of the house, but now the couples getting a divorce and has to sell the house, both of them are moving to apartments till everything’s finalized, and they had to have a yard sale to sell the stuff they couldn’t take with them and now the trampoline is in the ditch, the perfect metaphor for their train wreck of a marriage.

Are info-mercials still a thing? Are they still on late night TV endlessly playing, filling the void of time and entertaining the insomniacs? Do people still buy merchandise they see on info-mercials or are they less popular with the ease of internet buying? Where would we be as a country if we never knew that we needed the Sham-wow, or hair in a can? We would all be standing in long lines at the grocery store buying rotisserie chickens if we didn’t have the counter top rotisserie chicken oven that we could just…

“set it and forget it”

I must admit to being mildly entertained by some of those info-mercials, and I did purchase one of the products I just mentioned, but I’m not telling you which one.

When I was a kid, I always thought I would have to worry about quicksand when I was an adult, but that hasn’t been the case at all. Either there’s just not as much quicksand around as I thought or it was used in a lot of TV shows and movies back in the 70’s and 80’s. There always seemed to be somebody walking into quicksand. They would twist and turn, sinking and struggling, and then finally be rescued at the last moment thanks to a errant tree branch laying nearby or some very strong vines that just happened to be within arms reach, or tossed to them by a rescuer. I haven’t encountered any quicksand in my life and I don’t anticipate coming across any. With everything else we need to worry about, at least I can stop worrying about quicksand.

Be kind to each other and as always, Peace

John

I was lost in the woods the other day.  I mean not really, really lost, like I need some help lost.  Just lost in that good way, when you’re on a path you’ve never been on and you don’t know what’s around the next bend.

I was riding my trail bike, I say trail bike to differentiate from my road bike that I just purchased in the spring and which I love riding, but my road bike is not built for riding trails in the woods.  Yes, this means I have 2 bikes, which brings up an interesting thought…what is the appropriate number of bikes to have?  I have 2, and you might think that would be enough and I also think it is, but I’ve been reading about people who go on these long bike tours that last weeks and months and they use these special touring bikes that can carry all their stuff, so if I ever go on a long bike tour, I’ll need to get a 3rd bike, a touring bike and at that point I would own more bikes than cars….which is how it should be, right.

Anyhow back to the woods, I was riding on this wide well marked trail, some of it was dirt, some grass, some gravel.  It meandered along for a few miles, there were some small hills, some small objects to navigate around, all along getting deeper into the woods.  I climbed a hill to take a break and look at the trail map.  I could continue on the same path, this same well marked gently rolling path that circled around and would lead me back to where I started, or I could start hitting some of the more difficult trails off this main trail.

The wise thing to do would be to continue on this trail and then come back and hit other trails….but I think you know what I decided to do.  My eagerness and excitement sometimes leads me to do unwise things.  This was one of those times.

I turned my bike down a single track trail, it didn’t seem so bad at first.  There were more objects to navigate around, more branches and fallen trees, more rocks, bigger rocks, and tree roots to bike over.  It was challenging but fun, and I occasionally let out a loud “whoop” after navigating through a difficult section. It felt like I was the only person in the woods, the only person within miles and it felt entirely appropriate to let out loud “whoops.”

Then the hills came, short but steep hills, and my enthusiastic “whooping” was quickly replaced by panting.  Heavy panting, like, like….hmm, like this is hard work panting.  I climbed off my bike and pushed it up another hill, my heavy breathing the only sound I heard.  I looked at the trail from the top of this hill and all I saw was woods.  I was deep in the woods, not a soul around and the trail before me was narrow with a drop off on each side with a series of descending “S” curves.  I pondered how I got here in such a short time, but I knew it was my eagerness and enthusiasm that led me to this place.  So I mustered up another “whoop” to get me going, but truthfully it wasn’t a very enthusiastic “whoop.”

I began descending using the brakes heavily, I nearly caught my handlebars on trees along the trail and I was sure one of my pedals would catch a rock underneath and propel me over my bike.  Each turn led me to another climb, some of them I could do and others I pushed my bike.  Each descent became more difficult and there were times I walked down a hill not wanting to risk a crash.

I began wondering when I might see the main trail again.  I felt like I was going in circles….did I go past this fallen log before, I’m sure I climbed this hill just a few minutes ago, oh I know I went past this tree root jutting out.

I stopped to take a break, grab some water and get my bearings.  If I just stayed on the trail I was sure, well pretty sure, I would get back to the main trail…if I wasn’t going in circles.  Then I heard a “whoosing” noise behind me, another biker was coming down the trail.  He was young, strong and didn’t appear to be panting, and he looked to know where he was going.  I edged to the side of the trail to let him past, he nodded and asked “you alright?”…..I nodded back…

“just taking a break” I replied and he was gone as fast as he appeared.  I climbed back aboard my bike and let out another less than enthusiastic “whoop.”

For the next ten minutes I went up and down and around and around.  I was off my bike more than I was on it.  I felt like one of those experimental mice in the science lab, I was sure someone was observing me from afar and laughing at my plight….

“Look at him” …I imagined them saying,

“he thinks he can just show up and ride these trails his first time here…ha, he doesn’t even know where he’s going.”

Just when I thought I was truly “lost in the woods,” the trail spilled me out onto the main trail, and I was pretty damn happy about that.  Five minutes later I was back in the parking lot, grabbing something to eat and drink.  I studied the trail map again and determined where I went astray.  I climbed back aboard my bike and went back for more…but this time I stayed on the main trail.

I was lost in the woods the other day…and it was the best day of the summer.

Be kind to each other and as always, Peace….

John

 

 

 

 

 

I ran into an old friend the other day.  It’s about the only way I see him anymore, bumping into him at a store or downtown somewhere.  We were close 25 years ago when we were both single, in fact we lived together for about a year.

We’d stay up late drinking beers, watching sports and lamenting how could two eligible, studly bachelors not have girlfriends.  Of course if you had seen the small, kinda messy apartment we lived in and the fact that neither of us was really making any money or had jobs we enjoyed, I suppose the question of why we didn’t have girlfriends was pretty easy to answer.  One day he met a girl and fell in love, they got married, now he has 4 kids and not much free time.

The last time I saw him was right before Christmas, my god that seems like a lifetime ago.  We talked about the upcoming holidays and how we should get together, we didn’t, and we wondered if the Tigers would ever be good again.

He runs the local movie theater, which ever since coronavirus hit has been closed for months. He was hoping they might open up again later in the summer, but Hollywood isn’t really releasing many films and if they open it’ll be at half capacity, and since his theaters are small to begin with, what would be the purpose of showing a movie to 10 people.

It got me to thinking of the last movie I saw in a movie theater before they all closed.  I admit I don’t go see a lot of movies.  It’s so easy not too now with hundreds of TV stations and movies on demand, all available from the comfort of your couch, why put up with the hassle of going to a theater.  But there are some movies that just need to be seen on a big screen in a theater with other people having that shared experience.

It was in February, on a cold, gray wet February afternoon, the kind of afternoon that is easier to stay inside than venture out, but venture out I did to the matinee to see the movie 1917.  It had won some awards and the buzz about was that it was a breathtakingly good movie, maybe even great.  A unique story of 2 messengers in World War 1 sent on a mission to get word up to the front lines about an impending battle.  It was good, actually it was great.  It got everything right, the acting, the costumes, the time period and most of all the cinematography, which I believe is a fancy word to say how it was filmed, all made better by being in a movie theater with other people.  If that’s the last movie I saw this year then I was lucky it was that one.

Movies, concerts, sporting events, basically any large gatherings are temporarily  postponed.  It’s turning out to be more than temporary.  I turned on the TV tonight and there was a baseball game on.  They are getting ready to finally begin the season and they are playing some practice games, but of course there are no fans in the stadium.  I miss baseball, it’s summer and warm summer nights are perfect for the languid pace and easy to follow action of baseball.  But playing games in empty stadiums is strange and weird, and it makes you realize that everything is not right yet and probably won’t be for a long time.

Even though I don’t enjoy large crowds like I used too, ok I admit the reason I don’t enjoy crowds is that I’m thinking about the inevitable traffic jam that usually accompanies large gatherings, and yes I know I sound like an “old guy.”  But there is something special about being at a concert with thousands of other people singing the same song, or being at a sports event cheering for your team, or even being in a small movie theater watching a great movie.

I miss those shared experiences, and I hope it’s not too long before we’re able to gather again, to sing again, and to cheer again.

Stay safe and healthy…take care of yourself and if possible someone else,

Peace,

John