Going Back Again

Yesterday was a very full day. It featured contacts from across the spectrum. It included, of course, the Favorite Panamanian who has been on one of her patented decorating booms. She mildly re-arranged the living room and then decided she needed a sewing room. Her sewing machine has been set up in the corner of our master bedroom for the last couple of years. Out of the blue, she decided the walk-in closet of one of our spare bedrooms would make an excellent location. That closet is large and has digested much of the spare blankets, quilts, sheets, and anything else that needs to be moved out of the mainstream. Come on, we all have a place like that, be honest. Anyways. She spent a couple days burrowing into that accumulation and I felt okay standing on the sidelines, one, because she never asked for help and, two, she’d put all that stuff in there to begin with. I was called upon to remove everything that didn’t make the cut, either to be donated or thrown away. She now has a sewing room, so there.

At The Game Last Night

Last night was a fun evening, laden with nostalgia, as I took in my last WooSox game of the year as their season winds down this week. I was joined by none other than, the Cantankerous Friend. He took time out of circling the globe on his bicycle long enough to join me for the game, that’s where the nostalgia came in, hanging with one of my best friends since the 3^rd grade. It had been a long time since it had just been him and I hanging out, so that made the conversation special as it offered a chance to catch up on each other’s lives without the usual attendant banter surrounding adult beverages. He also got a chance to ride in my sports car, something I don’t think he enjoyed as much as I. I may have showed off a bit when we hit the highway. A great evening, the WooSox won and he survived my driving.

The New Sewing Room

Earlier in the day, I swung by my old office as the guy who worked as my Maintenance Manager is retiring and they had a pizza lunch sendoff for him in the community room. He was one of my favorite people at work, and it was so good to see him for the first time in a few years. My Favorite Panamanian and I are attending his going away dinner tonight. As I walked up to the building I realized two things. I didn’t miss coming to work there at all, but I do miss most of the people I worked with there. I was only there for a few minutes, but I was able to catch up on some of the major events, including the high numbers of deaths that have occurred since, including the union business agent and a number of drivers. I was surprised at how much of an emotional impact that had. In the military, close working relationships usually only last a couple years but I’d worked with these guys for nearly twenty years.

Latest 1000 Piecer Finshed

Earlier in the week, on date night, my wife and I saw the movie, Runner. This features Alan Ritchson who seems to be everywhere nowadays, dominating as they finally got Reacher right. In this movie he plays a recovering alcoholic transporter in Australia who is charged with getting Owen Wilson (in full Wedding Crashers personality vibe) and a donated liver to a dying kid. The only problem being the head of a drug cartel needs the same, rare blood type liver for his mom. Setting off the predictable hijinks. The action is non-stop as the pair run through a gauntlet, not knowing who to trust. Ritchson is great as he Reachers his way through the bad guys. An underrated, but a very effective and enjoyable action flick with some unpredictable twists near the end.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------RECURRING CHARACTERS:

ABFA – Amazing Best Family Athlete – my daughter in law; BR3 – Blog Reader #3 – granddaughter #3; BRS - Blog Reader the Sequel - second granddaughter; Cantankerous Friend – friend since grade school who likes to argue about everything, poses as radical leftist to attract women; CRC - Connecticut Riverboat Captain – another close friend from high school, renowned sailor of the big river; Curbside Girls – close friends of my daughter acquired during her single days in Brooklyn; Czech Connection – Czech couple who’ve become good friends along with their daughter (the Czech Shadow); Deckzilla – our backyard deck which grew to monstrous dimensions once my wife got involved in planning; Favorite Panamanian - the wife (of course); FBR - First Blog Reader - first granddaughter; First Friday – celebrations to mark the First Friday of the Week; Great Aunt - my elder sister; Keene Friends 1 & 2 – friends since high school from my home town of Keene, NH; Kindergarten Friend – friend since kindergarten whom I reunited with after many years; Maine and Virginia Musqueteras – two close friends of my wife – her US sisters, my wife is the 3^rd Musquetera (musketeer); Namesake Nephew – son of Great Aunt and Soxfather named after me; Neighborhood Mafioso - wife's close friend and Panamanian mafia member; PanaGals – female relatives /friends of my wife from Panama; Panamanian/Latin Mafia – inevitable group of Latino friends my wife accumulates wherever we have lived & their spouses; PCR - Pittsburgh College Roommate – high school friend, also a “Minor Celebrity” in Pittsburgh; PCR+1 - Pittsburgh College Roommate’s wife; Riggins - also known as the Grandpuppy, son's dog; Seis Amigos - two couples from our condo complex and my wife and I; Soxfather – my brother-in-law (whom I miss more than I can ever explain); Tia Loca – wife’s younger sister; Wingman – my son in law; Upstairs Neighbors – American couple and great friends who live in condo above us in Panama; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course

Midnight Riding

This area is justifiably famous for one of the most chronicled late night rides in history. Mine, last night, was decidedly less noteworthy. It was the culmination of a long day featuring hosta assassination drills, implanting mums, some lawn work which laid the basis for a thunder run north to my hometown to continue the celebration of Keene Friend’s 71^st birthday. My Favorite Panamanian decided that her shopping forays earlier in the week had denuded her Keene hunting grounds, so she would stay at home. I’ve been married long enough to realize there would be a price to be paid if I ignored the garden work I had ill-advisedly promised to accomplish for her earlier in the week.

Yesterday at the Lab, Before CRC Arrival

Each fall the many hostas that liberally grace her vast garden complex start to die off with yellowing leaves. This means they have to be cut off and hauled up the back yard hill for composting. That’s usually a major pain in the butt because any self-respecting hosta has a lot of leaves hanging to the ground. My wife’s constant perusal of Pinterest produced a new technique where a rope is placed around all the stems and then tightened making it easy to cut them all at once. I grudgingly admitted it was a great idea. I improvised using some of the many bungee cords I had in the garage. Notice the use of the past tense there. My energetic cutting led to the demise of four of the bungee cords, but all the leaves got uphill. The green excised from the vast garden complex was replaced with the many mums she always imports for the harvest season. After those were dug in, she admitted I was cleared to head north (after mowing the lawn).

Birthday Boy and Lady

The birthday celebration was organized by another of our high school classmates who, for some unknown reason, decided the Lab ’n Lager would be an appropriate venue. I know. I know. She and her husband joined us there where we were joined in short order my Keene Friend’s lady, who stopped in before heading across Main Street for her security officer gig. Another classmate, the hilarious CRC, answered the siren call to the Lab and joined us for the second half of the celebration. Unexpectedly, the Lab was fairly quiet for an autumnal Saturday. We tried our best to add some decibels by laughing a lot. Keene Friend scored his free birthday pizza which he augmented with way too many chicken wings. We felt honor bound to insure all this food was appropriately addressed.

It was a very fun afternoon hanging with friends and celebrating one of the truly nicest guys in the world. Our only failure was to not place our usual well lubricated call to the PCR, but he was probably hanging out at his golf course, so there’s that. Keene Friend and I returned to his house after the Lab and prepared to watch a hyped college football game. I made the mistake of lying down to watch the game and promptly fell asleep for about twenty minutes (see above – a very long day). That proved problematic though when it came time to actually go to sleep for the night. I’m weird that way. If I get any extended “nap” time during the day, insomnia raises its ugly head at bedtime. Keene Friend had long since gone upstairs for bed (as he is not similarly cursed) while I sat, wide awake in his living room.

I tried every technique I knew to sleep but I knew it was pointless as I remained wide awake without an inkling of drooping eyes. I kept at it for a couple hours and then decided if I wasn’t asleep by 2am, that I would drive home, putting the insomnia to useful purpose. That worked out well as I pulled into the garage around 315am, still wide awake. I had been very law abiding in my passage over the deserted highways, not wanting to tempt any bored late night law enforcement types. My next challenge was entering the house without scaring my sleeping wife, since she had given me strict orders not to try anything dumb, like driving back at night after an afternoon at the Lab. I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t completely sober by that point, eight hours after my last adult beverage. The garage opening didn’t waken her so I decamped to the Man Cave to wait out the insomnia. I finally go to that point around 430am, and, in a huge surprise, my Favorite Panamanian treated me like a returning hero, actually happy to see me. Paul Revere never had to worry about these things.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------RECURRING CHARACTERS:

ABFA – Amazing Best Family Athlete – my daughter in law; BR3 – Blog Reader #3 – granddaughter #3; BRS - Blog Reader the Sequel - second granddaughter; Cantankerous Friend – friend since grade school who likes to argue about everything, poses as radical leftist to attract women; CRC - Connecticut Riverboat Captain – another close friend from high school, renowned sailor of the big river; Curbside Girls – close friends of my daughter acquired during her single days in Brooklyn; Czech Connection – Czech couple who’ve become good friends along with their daughter (the Czech Shadow); Deckzilla – our backyard deck which grew to monstrous dimensions once my wife got involved in planning; Favorite Panamanian - the wife (of course); FBR - First Blog Reader - first granddaughter; First Friday – celebrations to mark the First Friday of the Week; Great Aunt - my elder sister; Keene Friends 1 & 2 – friends since high school from my home town of Keene, NH; Kindergarten Friend – friend since kindergarten whom I reunited with after many years; Maine and Virginia Musqueteras – two close friends of my wife – her US sisters, my wife is the 3^rd Musquetera (musketeer); Namesake Nephew – son of Great Aunt and Soxfather named after me; Neighborhood Mafioso - wife's close friend and Panamanian mafia member; PanaGals – female relatives /friends of my wife from Panama; Panamanian/Latin Mafia – inevitable group of Latino friends my wife accumulates wherever we have lived & their spouses; PCR - Pittsburgh College Roommate – high school friend, also a “Minor Celebrity” in Pittsburgh; PCR+1 - Pittsburgh College Roommate’s wife; Riggins - also known as the Grandpuppy, son's dog; Seis Amigos - two couples from our condo complex and my wife and I; Soxfather – my brother-in-law (whom I miss more than I can ever explain); Tia Loca – wife’s younger sister; Wingman – my son in law; Upstairs Neighbors – American couple and great friends who live in condo above us in Panama; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course

Roothugger Rundown

It had been over ten years since I was last in the company of one of the august members of the Roothugger Clan, that being the epic 2013 New Orleans reunion. Life inserted itself each time a subsequent reunion rolled around. For the uninitiated, the Roothuggers are the members of Staff Group 23B from our Command and General Staff College year at Fort Leavenworth, 1992-93. We have remained in touch over the many years since and always seem to generate a significant amount of fun. That fun had been reduced to the occasional zoom call as I had missed all the reunions.

Dinner Wednesday Night

The storied leader of Staff Group 23B decided to travel to Massachusetts and tourist up the place for a few days. He reached out and shared his itinerary and we were able to reserve an evening to meet up in Raynham, near their hotel. I included my Favorite Panamanian as the Roothugger spouses were definitively part of the social aspect that made that CGSC year and subsequent reunions so special. According to Army records we also did the work required as we all graduated and went on to distinguished careers, but the most profound memories are always composed of the after-school hours.

Two Old Roothuggers

The best thing about good friends is that despite the many years that have passed, as soon as we met up, it was as if no time at all had passed. While our physical conditions put a lie to that sensibility, we immediately fell into the laughter that always liberally lubricates a Roothugger reunion. We caught each other up on our various adventures including shared cancer experiences. The night flowed much too quickly but we made plans for a trip next year to Quebec and hopefully a journey to Arizona where we could also drop in on the Upstairs Neighbors as these fine people only live an hour or so apart. It was such a great evening and a stark reminder of the one thing I miss most about my time in uniform, the camaraderie.

Roothuggers Back in the Day
I'm top Row 2d from Left, He is Middle row Center next to Navy Guy

A More Descriptive Photo of our CGSC Experience

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------RECURRING CHARACTERS:

ABFA – Amazing Best Family Athlete – my daughter in law; BR3 – Blog Reader #3 – granddaughter #3; BRS - Blog Reader the Sequel - second granddaughter; Cantankerous Friend – friend since grade school who likes to argue about everything, poses as radical leftist to attract women; CRC - Connecticut Riverboat Captain – another close friend from high school, renowned sailor of the big river; Curbside Girls – close friends of my daughter acquired during her single days in Brooklyn; Czech Connection – Czech couple who’ve become good friends along with their daughter (the Czech Shadow); Deckzilla – our backyard deck which grew to monstrous dimensions once my wife got involved in planning; Favorite Panamanian - the wife (of course); FBR - First Blog Reader - first granddaughter; First Friday – celebrations to mark the First Friday of the Week; Great Aunt - my elder sister; Keene Friends 1 & 2 – friends since high school from my home town of Keene, NH; Kindergarten Friend – friend since kindergarten whom I reunited with after many years; Maine and Virginia Musqueteras – two close friends of my wife – her US sisters, my wife is the 3^rd Musquetera (musketeer); Namesake Nephew – son of Great Aunt and Soxfather named after me; Neighborhood Mafioso - wife's close friend and Panamanian mafia member; PanaGals – female relatives /friends of my wife from Panama; Panamanian/Latin Mafia – inevitable group of Latino friends my wife accumulates wherever we have lived & their spouses; PCR - Pittsburgh College Roommate – high school friend, also a “Minor Celebrity” in Pittsburgh; PCR+1 - Pittsburgh College Roommate’s wife; Riggins - also known as the Grandpuppy, son's dog; Seis Amigos - two couples from our condo complex and my wife and I; Soxfather – my brother-in-law (whom I miss more than I can ever explain); Tia Loca – wife’s younger sister; Wingman – my son in law; Upstairs Neighbors – American couple and great friends who live in condo above us in Panama; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course

Never Forget - 25 Years Ago

The words below are the same I publish each year on September 11 to remember that day in 2001. I do so because it provided a valuable lesson about evil in the world most were, up to that point, only subliminally aware of. Serving in the military, you get exposed to the threats and educated on the importance of defending our values, which are certainly not shared. The memories are still very ripe for me. They haven't suffered the erosion time usually employs. I assume that's because of the importance of passing this information onto a new generation and reminding those of us who went through it. It’s incredibly hard to believe that we are at the 25 year mark. I’m concerned that there seems to be real seepage in how the day is remembered. Too many people are ready to call any assignment of blame to the perpetrators, evil incarnate though they were, as islamophobia. That’s rubbish. I see Europe and Michigan here in the states struggling with the wave of Islamic migration where the migrants refuse to integrate and I worry for my granddaughters. We are a country of immigrants but we all came together to confront the evil done that day. Now we have mullahs and the Saudi educated clerics eroding common sense in the masses of their followers and I worry.  

I was assigned to the Pentagon on September 11, 2001. I remember a beautifully clear day where the oppressive summer Washington, DC heat was finally gone. We had recently dropped off my daughter for her freshman year at Boston University, my son was a junior in high school, and my wife worked at an adult day care facility in Northern Virginia. I was actually in a satellite office in Crystal City while our Pentagon offices were refurbished. My morning routine was to head out for a run along the Potomac River where there was a nice running trail. I ran around the Pentagon and glanced over at the helipad where I had taken several trips out of and then wound my way down to the river. I had just reached the river, on the opposite side of the Pentagon from the helipad, and turned south when I heard a very loud bang. There was always a lot of construction going on in nearby Crystal City so I initially thought that someone had used a little too much explosive for a new roadway.

Red X is Where the Plane Went in, Blue Line is my Running Route that Day
Yellow X is Where I was When the Plane Hit

As I continued my run I heard police sirens blooming from every direction. I reached a gap in the trees and could see a column of smoke rising from the Pentagon. I had just about reached the point where the running trail nears National Airport and I was greeted by a truly surreal sight. The airport, in reaction to the earlier attacks in New York City, was being emptied. People, with their luggage in tow, were wandering down the running trail with no real sense of where they were going, only that they had been ordered to leave the terminal. I gave directions to the nearest hotel to some and then headed back to my office, by now the sirens were almost deafening and traffic had come to a complete stop in both directions on the nearby George Washington Parkway.

When I reached my office, I learned the true scope of the disaster and watched the towers fall on a TV someone had set up in their cubicle.  There were a series of follow up explosions as transformers blew up in reaction to the Pentagon disaster. A couple guys and I made our way over to the Pentagon to see if we could help with any evacuation but the area was already cordoned off. We helped the rapidly growing casualty collection in the south parking lot; there were a lot of dazed civilian workers. The military, even those wounded, were trying to help out; we all realized we had just gone to war. Eventually we were ushered away as more of the professional emergency workers showed up.

I returned to my office and decided it would be a good idea to let my family know I was alive. I called my wife who had heard and was just about to go into full blown panic mode. I called Boston University because I didn’t have my daughter’s dorm room number with me and when I explained where I was calling from the operator connected me directly, even though that wasn’t usually allowed. I spoke with my daughter’s roommate who promised to find my daughter and let her know. A similar call to my son’s high school followed by a call to my mother’s house. I had to leave a message there since she out shopping and she later told me that was the best phone message she ever received because she had convinced herself I had been killed after hearing the news on the car radio.

All buses, my normal way home, were shut down at the Pentagon. Washington DC was shutting down and everybody was released from work at the same time. I went to the Metro station and waited while five different trains, packed to the gills, went by until I was able to squeeze into one. I rode it as far as I could and then walked up to a nearby mall where I could wait for my wife to come pick me up. I sat in a bar and watched the day’s events unfold on TV. One of the other patrons claimed to have been driving on I-395 and saw the plane plow into the Pentagon. He said he would never forget seeing the airline lettering so clear and so close. The plane went right into the area near the helipad, where I had run ten minutes before. After an hour the entire mall closed and I had to go wait outside a bookstore, also closed, for about two hours before my wife was able to get me.

One of the most memorable and cherished things from that horrible day were the phone calls we received all that night as friends and family from around the world, knowing I was assigned to the Pentagon, called to insure I was okay. My wife was a little shocked the next day when I told her I was going back to work but I needed to, I was so angry. It didn’t help when I arrived at the Pentagon, smoke still rising with bodies still unrecovered, that I was greeted by a group of protesters reveling in the destruction. It took a lot of self-restraint not to kick some serious ass at that point. I was so glad Clinton was out of office because I knew he would have been incapable of making the tough decisions required by this act. He would have thrown a few cruise missiles and called it a day.

We, as a nation, learned that day that there are some people who cannot be reasoned with and needed to die; that was the only way to end the threat and that you couldn’t do it from a distance. I also remembered the way the country came together for a short time and I felt glad my kids were around to see it; to see what a united America was like. This eroded over time as the politicians felt safe enough to stop cooperating again, but it did happen. It was another object lesson for evil as well, don’t wake up the sleeping giant, when you do, be prepared to experience unprecedented wrath. These were my memories of the day when everything changed, but maybe not enough. The evil is still out there and we owe a tremendous debt to our men and women in uniform who are out there daily in position to confront that evil, often without the notoriety and certainly not fame we routinely dote on underserving internet trolls.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------RECURRING CHARACTERS:

ABFA – Amazing Best Family Athlete – my daughter in law; BR3 – Blog Reader #3 – granddaughter #3; BRS - Blog Reader the Sequel - second granddaughter; Cantankerous Friend – friend since grade school who likes to argue about everything, poses as radical leftist to attract women; CRC - Connecticut Riverboat Captain – another close friend from high school, renowned sailor of the big river; Curbside Girls – close friends of my daughter acquired during her single days in Brooklyn; Czech Connection – Czech couple who’ve become good friends along with their daughter (the Czech Shadow); Deckzilla – our backyard deck which grew to monstrous dimensions once my wife got involved in planning; Favorite Panamanian - the wife (of course); FBR - First Blog Reader - first granddaughter; First Friday – celebrations to mark the First Friday of the Week; Great Aunt - my elder sister; Keene Friends 1 & 2 – friends since high school from my home town of Keene, NH; Kindergarten Friend – friend since kindergarten whom I reunited with after many years; Maine and Virginia Musqueteras – two close friends of my wife – her US sisters, my wife is the 3^rd Musquetera (musketeer); Namesake Nephew – son of Great Aunt and Soxfather named after me; Neighborhood Mafioso - wife's close friend and Panamanian mafia member; PanaGals – female relatives /friends of my wife from Panama; Panamanian/Latin Mafia – inevitable group of Latino friends my wife accumulates wherever we have lived & their spouses; PCR - Pittsburgh College Roommate – high school friend, also a “Minor Celebrity” in Pittsburgh; PCR+1 - Pittsburgh College Roommate’s wife; Riggins - also known as the Grandpuppy, son's dog; Seis Amigos - two couples from our condo complex and my wife and I; Soxfather – my brother-in-law (whom I miss more than I can ever explain); Tia Loca – wife’s younger sister; Wingman – my son in law; Upstairs Neighbors – American couple and great friends who live in condo above us in Panama; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course

Catchup

I was in the august company of the Cantankerous Friend last night who took me to task for not writing more regularly here. Not unexpectedly, he did not buy my excuse of recovering from shepherding the grandkids around for two weeks. He’s very strict in that regard, probably because he’s never been assigned that mission. The real reason I haven’t written. I’m lazy, but hear me out. I’ve earned the right. Nah, didn’t think you’d buy it. Doesn’t work on my Favorite Panamanian either. I hereby pledge to be more punctual with my fractured view of my life as it unfolds.

Dinner Last Night

I have been busy in one aspect of recovering form the grandkids visit. I put on nearly twelve pounds during their stay. That was a combination of not being able to do my daily workouts and following the grandkids’ diet selections. That meant a lot more pizza and especially ice cream than my battered old body is used to. A stronger man would have been able to resist, but what can I say. I considered that all the work I put in staying in shape should allow me these hedonistic periods where I can enjoy some dippin dots with the granddaughters. I mean, I could have gone for a small or even medium size serving, but that’s water under the bridge. The business I referred to in the first sentence of this paragraph was taking off that gained weight. I’ve taken out ten, so I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get back behind the keyboard.

Birthday Cake and Bonecrusher Appear

Earlier this week, I voyaged to the accursed land of Natick where my Favorite Panamanian wanted to take advantage of the remnants of Labor Day sales. I agreed only if we could coincide the trip with movie times at the adjacent theater. I think she got the better of the deal since the movie wasn’t great and I actually fell asleep a couple times in the theater (something I never do). It could have been the reclining seats and the two hours on the bike earlier in the day. Anyways. She had a good time shopping and I earned some hero points for being her chauffer without complaining (too much).

Fully Appreciating our Rendition of Happy Birthday

Bonecrusher Gets to Sundering

Yesterday was much more entertaining. We journeyed north up to my hometown to take Keene Friend and his lady out to celebrate his upcoming birthday. That was every bit as much fun as anticipated. They are both great dinner companions and his dry humor was flying as abundantly as ever. After dinner he and I returned to his house where he was charged with babysitting me while my Favorite Panamanian undertook her requisite foray into the morass known locally as TJ Maxx.At Keene Friend’s house we encountered the Cantankerous Friend who came over to watch first the Red Sox and then the Patriots (season opener).  He regaled us with tales from his recent bike around the Emerald Isle. That included a couple crashes of his rented bike and a full-on view of a showering naked Irishman. He claimed to have a great time though. It was good for my soul to hang out with these two old friends. We also further celebrated Keene Friend’s birthday with a small cake, appropriately sundered by Bonecrusher. My shopped out (hopefully) wife and I set out for home at half time of the Pats game, which turned out to be a very good thing, considering the 4^th quarter.

The Birthday Girl Today

It’s certainly birthday season because today also marks the 94^th birthday of my mother-in-law. My Favorite Panamanian and her sisters have been conspiring for the past couple weeks to put together a special day for this very special lady. Early this morning, the neighbors took her to mass where the priest singled her out for praise, given her lifelong service to the church, and even sprinkled some holy water on her. (I smiled at that because I’m currently re-watching the Supernatural series, my son will understand). I was dragged out this afternoon to assist in the loading up the car with my wife’s annual acquisition of mums. While she was in her prolonged decision process (which I waited out in the shade), she received a video call from home where her mom’s whole family, including her surviving sister, had joined together for a birthday feast. The surprise Mariachi band is showing up later. I was glad to see how delighted the birthday girl was. Happy birthday Mami!!

Meanwhile in New Jersey The FBR with her Minions
Capturing the Effect of a Breakfast Sausage

I’ve seen two movies this week. The first was an Apple TV premier. I was surprised this didn’t make it to the big screen given that it starred Ryan Reynolds and Kenneth Branagh. Reynolds stars as a 1980s spy plane pilot shot down in the Soviet Union in the throes of glasnost. He links up with Branagh as an American-loving ex-KGB agent (weird that) living as a hermit near the crash site. They spend the movie making their away across the USSR in search of escape, with Reynolds at the top of his snarky one-liner game. This was very entertaining and they make a very interesting duo, with unexpected chemistry. A good watch.

The Coyote vs. Acme was a must see for a guy that grew up in the 1960s loving the eternal chase of the coyote for a roadrunner dinner. He depended on Acme products which always failed, spectacularly, at the worst possible moment. This film featured the animated characters living alongside humans and the coyote, after sixty years, finally decides Acme should be sued. He finds a hapless lawyer to take his case, eventually to Congress. While that is certainly fertile ground for a great movie, it was only okay. It stumbles badly whenever the focus is taken off the animated characters. The humans just can’t keep up. It was fun for this child of the 60s to see virtually every looney tunes character find their way to the big screen. A fun watch.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------RECURRING CHARACTERS:

ABFA – Amazing Best Family Athlete – my daughter in law; BR3 – Blog Reader #3 – granddaughter #3; BRS - Blog Reader the Sequel - second granddaughter; Cantankerous Friend – friend since grade school who likes to argue about everything, poses as radical leftist to attract women; CRC - Connecticut Riverboat Captain – another close friend from high school, renowned sailor of the big river; Curbside Girls – close friends of my daughter acquired during her single days in Brooklyn; Czech Connection – Czech couple who’ve become good friends along with their daughter (the Czech Shadow); Deckzilla – our backyard deck which grew to monstrous dimensions once my wife got involved in planning; Favorite Panamanian - the wife (of course); FBR - First Blog Reader - first granddaughter; First Friday – celebrations to mark the First Friday of the Week; Great Aunt - my elder sister; Keene Friends 1 & 2 – friends since high school from my home town of Keene, NH; Kindergarten Friend – friend since kindergarten whom I reunited with after many years; Maine and Virginia Musqueteras – two close friends of my wife – her US sisters, my wife is the 3^rd Musquetera (musketeer); Namesake Nephew – son of Great Aunt and Soxfather named after me; Neighborhood Mafioso - wife's close friend and Panamanian mafia member; PanaGals – female relatives /friends of my wife from Panama; Panamanian/Latin Mafia – inevitable group of Latino friends my wife accumulates wherever we have lived & their spouses; PCR - Pittsburgh College Roommate – high school friend, also a “Minor Celebrity” in Pittsburgh; PCR+1 - Pittsburgh College Roommate’s wife; Riggins - also known as the Grandpuppy, son's dog; Seis Amigos - two couples from our condo complex and my wife and I; Soxfather – my brother-in-law (whom I miss more than I can ever explain); Tia Loca – wife’s younger sister; Wingman – my son in law; Upstairs Neighbors – American couple and great friends who live in condo above us in Panama; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course

Autumnal Prep

Having time of my own once again, with the lamented departure of the granddaughters, I have been searching out things to do that were delayed by that delightful interval. In response to my Favorite Panamanian’s latest haranguing campaign (that might be a bit harsh but I’m allowed wide editorial and poetic license by the Frail Deeds Editorial Board), we met with a lawyer this week for estate planning. Having finally admitted I might be getting on in years, combined with her constant perusal of TikTok videos, we decided to do the right thing. Our most excellent neighbors, the Neighborhood Mafiosos, recommended a local lawyer who was fantastic. What do I mean about TikTok videos, you might ask. My wife will latch on to a certain video and once she watches it through, the evil gremlins of algorithms start inundating her with similar ones. She saw one estate planning video and, well, there you go. We’re getting the whole package: will, health proxy, etc. etc.

Heading Out on our Walk This Morning

One of the other projects was the assembly of my new snowblower. With the departure of the old one on Wednesday, it was time to unpack and assemble the new one. Anyone who shoveled snow all his life and then used a snowblower, will never go back. I was heartened that I bought American and relished the opportunity assemble something with directions prepared by Americans instead of well meaning Chinese with a limited grasp of English. After this experience I am missing the Chinese. There was a huge manual in three languages which had nothing to do with the assembly.

New Snowblower in its Crate

The Cursed Directions

That was left to a single large sheet of double-sided paper with no printed directions whatsoever on it. It simply showed a series of cartoons with arrows and highlighted parts. The scan code on the top right simply led me back to the operator's manual. A mechanically inclined person probably wouldn’t have had a second thought about it but those type individuals were in short supply in my garage. It didn’t help that I was also sweating buckets since humidity returned for a hopefully last hurrah. I had to study the machine for several minutes on each step to find the highlighted section. It would have helped idiots like me for a simple line of “Find this under the handle”. There were only a few parts to be installed but it still took me nearly three hours to get it done. The last part which fit easily on the diagram failed to live up to that billing in reality. I had to remove a part from the machine and eventually slipped them together. Small victories.

Pre-Assembly

Finished Product

That comment on humidity was a complaint since, we’re in September which marks the start of my favorite time of year (now that I don’t have any school requirements). The A/C was turned off, and we slept with the windows open for the first time since June. I love the fresh air although the neighbor’s car alarm going off at 4am was a definite downer. I love the warm days and cool nights that signal the approach of autumn. After lunch yesterday I went out onto Deckzilla and sat in the swing just to savor the autumnal breeze. Yeah, I know they will evolve into the howling winds of winter, but I’ve got the next couple months, at least.

My Favorite Panamanian has also been watching videos on senior workouts. While I have my own routine down pat, she has been struggling for the past few months as every time she tries to go back to one of her traditional workouts, some body part ends up aching. The gremlins steered her towards a walking regimen which is why we were both out walking this morning to our church. I made the ill-advised recommendation that she could walk to our church during her daily attendance at mass. She thought that was a great idea and, since I came up with it, I was to accompany her this morning. The one flaw in my plan, the very high hill we live on, with the church at the bottom. Going there was easy, the return, not so much. We found a walking path at the bottom of our hill around a ball field which would be perfect for her though. She’ll drive to church and then use that track for her walk while I should still be sleeping. I like this plan.

Finally, I also have a tendency to wander the reels offered by Facebook and Instagram. The gremlins send me a lot of  World War 2 and military history (lots of Roman Empire stuff). They also realize I am hopelessly in thrall to the grandkids. The saying below popped up and actually had me misty eyed. I share it here for anyone else caught up in the blessed phenomena of grandchildren: “The hardest part about being a grandparent is not the gray hair or the wrinkles. It’s knowing you won’t get to walk beside them for their whole life, only a few precious chapters. So, pour everything you have into the moments you do have – the stories, the hugs, the prayers, the gentle words…Hoping that one day, when your chair is empty, their hearts will still feel how deeply they were loved.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------RECURRING CHARACTERS:

ABFA – Amazing Best Family Athlete – my daughter in law; BR3 – Blog Reader #3 – granddaughter #3; BRS - Blog Reader the Sequel - second granddaughter; Cantankerous Friend – friend since grade school who likes to argue about everything, poses as radical leftist to attract women; CRC - Connecticut Riverboat Captain – another close friend from high school, renowned sailor of the big river; Curbside Girls – close friends of my daughter acquired during her single days in Brooklyn; Czech Connection – Czech couple who’ve become good friends along with their daughter (the Czech Shadow); Deckzilla – our backyard deck which grew to monstrous dimensions once my wife got involved in planning; Favorite Panamanian - the wife (of course); FBR - First Blog Reader - first granddaughter; First Friday – celebrations to mark the First Friday of the Week; Great Aunt - my elder sister; Keene Friends 1 & 2 – friends since high school from my home town of Keene, NH; Kindergarten Friend – friend since kindergarten whom I reunited with after many years; Maine and Virginia Musqueteras – two close friends of my wife – her US sisters, my wife is the 3^rd Musquetera (musketeer); Namesake Nephew – son of Great Aunt and Soxfather named after me; Neighborhood Mafioso - wife's close friend and Panamanian mafia member; PanaGals – female relatives /friends of my wife from Panama; Panamanian/Latin Mafia – inevitable group of Latino friends my wife accumulates wherever we have lived & their spouses; PCR - Pittsburgh College Roommate – high school friend, also a “Minor Celebrity” in Pittsburgh; PCR+1 - Pittsburgh College Roommate’s wife; Riggins - also known as the Grandpuppy, son's dog; Seis Amigos - two couples from our condo complex and my wife and I; Soxfather – my brother-in-law (whom I miss more than I can ever explain); Tia Loca – wife’s younger sister; Wingman – my son in law; Upstairs Neighbors – American couple and great friends who live in condo above us in Panama; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course

Milestone Reflection

I’m finally coming up for air after entering the recovery protocol required after two weeks chasing granddaughters around the reservation. I also noticed, with some guarded assistance from my Favorite Panamanian, that we’ve turned the page into September. While this marks the start of my favorite time of year as we ease into autumn, I still miss the non-stop noise associated with hosting the FBR, BRS, and BR3. The start of September also brings forth another, blog related, milestone. This marks the start of my 16^th year chronicling my life and adding the occasional nonsensical ramblings. I’m still not sure how much longer I’m going to continue writing here, but I still enjoy it, something I truly do not understand. The pictures below show what I looked like when I started, and the other is a more contemporary one.

Then and Now

I also decided to check in on the blog stats, which I do occasionally. I hadn’t done it in a while and was therefore surprised that I’m now comfortably over a million page views. That is a modest accumulation considering how long I’ve been doing this, considering some worthless influencer probably does that in an afternoon. Still, a little bit of sneaky pride. I can also see what country the page views are coming from. The United States is easily ahead, as you would expect, but I was anticipating Panama to be second, considering how much family I have down there. However, Panama came in 10^th with Singapore in second place. Strange, indeed. The photo below shows the first one in the blog of my Favorite Panamanian and I, taken during a memorable trip to visit the relatively newlywed daughter and Wingman.

Back in the Day

I had to say goodbye to an old friend this afternoon. While I was in Panama our house sitter reported that our venerable old snowblower had given up the ghost. I bought a new one in August, but it is still in its box awaiting the departure of the old one. I checked around but businesses wanted over  $100 to come and pick it up. Worcester has a program where, if you can transport it to their designated location, they will only charge you $5. I was sold but couldn’t get an appointment until today. In the interim I learned (thank you YouTube) how to drain the oil and gas out of it. I used a table to wheel it up into the Highlander and then removed the handle so it would fit. I had to edge it around a mound of melted chocolate and candy wrappers the FBR had left. The drop off was un-ceremonial and, as I was driving out, I felt bad that I hadn’t bid an appropriate farewell to my old friend, who accompanied me on so many cold nights out on the driveway (at least before I started escaping the winter down in Panama). If I was one to ascribe personalities to inanimate objects, that is.

My Old Friend on its Final Journey 

The granddaughters have been incredibly busy since they departed our location. The New Hampshire bunch started school on Monday, the BRS in 3^rd grade and BR3 the first. Since they still hadn’t fully recovered east coast timing from their extended west coast tour, getting them up in time for the bus was a challenge. Their parental units reported a successful start to their school year. In New Jersey, my daughter faced a similar challenge, getting the FBR up much earlier than she was used to in the summer. In this she was ably assisted by Walnut. The cat streaked into the room as soon as the door opened and launched onto the FBR’s chest where he commenced symphonic purring. The FBR, usually grouchy when awakened (inherited trait from her mother), could not be angry when confronted with Walnut. She’s had a good couple days to start the year as well, except for overlong bus rides.

Son's Family at the Monday Bus Stop

BRS and BR3 First Day of School

FBR's Frist Day of 5th Grade

Shy, As Usual

Since our time is our own once again, we’re trying to catch up on movies. We saw Mutiny featuring my wife’s designated boyfriend, Jason Statham. Mutiny is yet another in Statham’s latest action movie journey. This one is formulaic, as you would expect. Statham is typically excellent in the action mode but this movie lacked some of the heart he usually brings to his roles. He scowls throughout as the director doesn’t take advantage of his proven ability to actually act. He plays a bodyguard to a Thai billionaire and the plot has him seeking revenge for an attack on his subject. Most of the movie takes place at sea aboard a huge cargo ship. There are usual plot holes you can drive a bus through, but Statham’s action expertise saves the movie.

The Dog Stars could have been a special movie, it’s not. I was surprised Ridley Scott didn’t do a better job with this post-apocalyptic story. I know Jacob Elordi is the latest “big thing” but I lay most of the blame for this on him. He just isn’t that interesting as the lead and since most of the film revolves around his personal story, that’s a problem. He plays a mechanic/pilot who lives in an abandoned rural airport with Josh Brolin, a former Marine and deadly survivalist. Elordi is simply outmatched whenever he’s on the screen with Brolin and later with Margaret Qualley, who is once again, excellent. There are the usual rogue survivors attempting to overrun the decent folk and those action sequences are uniformly excellent. However, these are always followed with extended sequences of Elordi called upon to emote and for the most part, just look listless. This caused a screeching halt to momentum and made for a very uneven watch. They should have kept the dog around to help Elordi appear more sympathetic. A good flick, that could have been great.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------RECURRING CHARACTERS:

ABFA – Amazing Best Family Athlete – my daughter in law; BR3 – Blog Reader #3 – granddaughter #3; BRS - Blog Reader the Sequel - second granddaughter; Cantankerous Friend – friend since grade school who likes to argue about everything, poses as radical leftist to attract women; CRC - Connecticut Riverboat Captain – another close friend from high school, renowned sailor of the big river; Curbside Girls – close friends of my daughter acquired during her single days in Brooklyn; Czech Connection – Czech couple who’ve become good friends along with their daughter (the Czech Shadow); Deckzilla – our backyard deck which grew to monstrous dimensions once my wife got involved in planning; Favorite Panamanian - the wife (of course); FBR - First Blog Reader - first granddaughter; First Friday – celebrations to mark the First Friday of the Week; Great Aunt - my elder sister; Keene Friends 1 & 2 – friends since high school from my home town of Keene, NH; Kindergarten Friend – friend since kindergarten whom I reunited with after many years; Maine and Virginia Musqueteras – two close friends of my wife – her US sisters, my wife is the 3^rd Musquetera (musketeer); Namesake Nephew – son of Great Aunt and Soxfather named after me; Neighborhood Mafioso - wife's close friend and Panamanian mafia member; PanaGals – female relatives /friends of my wife from Panama; Panamanian/Latin Mafia – inevitable group of Latino friends my wife accumulates wherever we have lived & their spouses; PCR - Pittsburgh College Roommate – high school friend, also a “Minor Celebrity” in Pittsburgh; PCR+1 - Pittsburgh College Roommate’s wife; Riggins - also known as the Grandpuppy, son's dog; Seis Amigos - two couples from our condo complex and my wife and I; Soxfather – my brother-in-law (whom I miss more than I can ever explain); Tia Loca – wife’s younger sister; Wingman – my son in law; Upstairs Neighbors – American couple and great friends who live in condo above us in Panama; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course