Weather Turn and Veterans Day

The weather certainly remembered it was November yesterday. I think this is the latest I’ve ever had to turn on the heat in the house (for a very appreciative Panamanian). I heard on the news today that 2023 will go down as the hottest year on record, so that figures. With the cold though came the persistent autumnal winds to scour our hilltop. This aids greatly in clearing leaves. I’m glad I don’t live at the bottom of the hill where they end up. I learned the valuable lesson after wrestling the grill into the garage for winter storage that it’s probably a good idea to turn off the gas supply as the knobs tend to get turned during the wrestling. I was able to air out the garage before my Favorite Panamanian noticed and/or the house blew up. I include below the words I usually post for Veterans Day since I’ll be on the road starting tomorrow for the annual FBR birthday bash (she’s a Veterans’ Day baby).

Veterans Day causes me to reflect on how I ended up wearing a uniform for the majority of my adult life.  I blame my uncles. I grew up idolizing my father’s brothers and sisters, including Uncle Pete who was killed in action on Guadalcanal. All, along with my father, served in World War 2.  My family has a long history of military service; my great grandfather’s brother, Warren, was killed crossing the Wheatfield at Gettysburg and since I embarked on the Ancestery.com journey there are numerous Revolutionary War veterans in the fam as well. I was a typical kid growing up in the 1960s drawn in a lot of directions by the cultural forces trying to pull the country apart. I kind of wandered into the military after college and found a home. I met leaders who reminded me of the gentle uncles with the steel lightly disguised behind eyes that had seen too much. I also found a love of America these aunts and uncles had imbued me with.

I’ve written about this before and decided to repost a couple of those thoughts because they’re appropriate for Saturday when we should all be remembering the sacrifices made and thanking those who donned the uniform for the belief in this greatest of all countries. I was brought up, without ever realizing it, to have a deep abiding love of this country and serving in the military only refined those feelings. To serve in the military you have to believe in what you’re fighting for. I think, that, more than any other factor can determine an Army’s success on the battlefield. I know that a lot of civilians don’t “get it” and at times even ridicule those who profess a love of country. To be honest, certain fanatical factions of the far right have attempted to hijack patriotism as their sole property while also serving as the judge of who is “patriotic”. This could not be farther from the truth.

Patriotism means standing up for the values your country is based on, not on the convenient truth of the latest politician. True patriotism is found in hating a hateful message but loving the freedom to send it. If nothing else America stands for freedom, an escape from the notion that your station of birth determines your station in life. This is such a precious commodity. I believe in the bedrock decency of America and hold in utter contempt politicians and intellectuals who attempt to denigrate who we are and kow tow to their foreign counterparts to curry favor. They don’t fully appreciate or understand what America means to us. We as a nation comprise the most startlingly successful expression of the basic human need for individual freedom that the world has ever seen. Since we are humans, we are certainly not perfect but we, as a nation, dare to believe we can be better than we’ve been. That is buried in the marrow of this country and the profound, immense strength it generates fanatics will never understand or successfully confront.

I post this every Veterans Day because it says what being a veteran means much more eloquently than I ever could:

What is a Vet?

Some veterans bear visible signs of their service:  a missing limb, a jagged scar, a certain look in the eye.  Others may carry the evidence inside them:  a pin holding a bone together, a piece of shrapnel in the leg – or perhaps another sort of inner steel:  the soul’s ally forged in the refinery of adversity.  Except in parades, however, the men and women who have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem.  You can’t tell a vet just by looking.  What is a vet?  He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn’t run out of fuel.  He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel.  She, or he, is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.  He is the POW who went away one person and came back another – or didn’t come back at all.  He is the Quantico drill instructor who has never seen combat but has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no account rednecks and gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other’s backs.  He is the parade riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand.  He is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass him by.  He is the three anonymous heroes in the Tomb of the Unknowns, whose presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with them on the battlefield or in the ocean’s sunless deep.  He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket, palsied now and agonizingly slow, who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and wishes all day long that his wife was still alive to hold him when the nightmares come. He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being, a person who offered some of his life’s most vital years in the service of his country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice theirs. He is a Soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation ever known. So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just lean over and say Thank You.  That’s all most people need, and in most cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or were awarded. Two little words that mean a lot, “THANK YOU”.  Remember November 11th is Veterans Day. “It is the Soldier, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the press. It is the Soldier, not the poet who has given us freedom of speech. It is the Soldier, not the campus organizer, who has given us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the Soldier, who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the flag.” – Father Denis O'Brien, USMC

Those are powerful words and I know it’s hokey but it still brings tears to my eyes because of their intrinsic truth. My proudest moment in uniform was not at a promotion, a change of command or a medal ceremony. It was while I was at Washington’s Union Station, in uniform, waiting to pick up my daughter. A businessman noticed me, walked over, and said, “I just wanted to thank you for serving your country.” As stated above, that meant so much to me, more than any medal or accolade.  So, if you have a chance today, say thank you to a veteran.  He or she has earned it. Thank you for your service and sacrifice to all the magnificent Soldiers I was blessed to serve with and to those friends who also served.

Four movies fell in my A-Z watch, all keepers: Hancock, Will Smith as a drunken superhero and the always watchable Cherize; Harold and Kumar go to Whit Castle, very funny stoner comedy with Neil Patrick Harris on fire; Hansel and Gretel, Witch Hunters, forgot how good this was; and Hardcore Henry, impossibly violent first person experience, love Sharlto.

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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 him her single days in Brooklyn; 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; Soxfather - my brother in law; Tia Loca – wife’s younger sister; Wingman – my son in law; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course

Anticipation

We are in full anticipatory mode this week as this weekend marks the kickoff to the official holiday season. I’m not talking about Veterans Day, although that’s there as well. Saturday marks the eighth birthday for that granddaughter of renown, the FBR. She has the entire week off from school (they have a fall break) and is totally geared up for celebration. Her biggest excitement stems from the arrival this weekend of her cousins, the BRS and BR3. Since she will be hosting those worthies, she has been assigned the task of cleaning up her bedroom. A job not suited for the faint of heart. Wingman is off tour and “volunteered” to help. He was needed as part of the effort involved deciding which of her clothes she has outgrown and what toys should be donated. This included the beloved “stuffies” (stuffed animals). The FBR holds the firm belief that you cannot have too many stuffies.

The Future Birthday Girl's 2d Grade Picture

Wingman sent the attached photos showing what two days’ worth of negotiations with his daughter had achieved. This is the pile of stuffies that the FBR claims she cannot live without. It was well short of what Wingman hoped to achieve and does not included the stuffies assigned to the FBR’s bed and downstairs play area. I plead guilty to being part of the problem as we have provided a number of the stuffies. What can I say? If you find out your granddaughter likes something, prepare storage area. It’s a grandparent thing. I wonder how many of our donations were victims of the Wingman pogrom.

Wingman's Lament, The Remaining Stuffies

You can feel winter edging into the air. I could almost smell snow yesterday. The clearest sign are the early sunsets, especially since we turned clocks back. BR3 was having none of this. When her body told her it was bed time she was conking out, even if she was still lying on top of her dad’s chest awaiting official bed time. We’re exited to see the two younger granddaughters on Thursday as they’ll be splitting up their trek to New Jersey by stopping in to spend Thursday night with us. As I said, anticipation. We follow up this weekend’s celebrations with my birthday, Great Aunt’s birthday, Tia Loca’s birthday next week, leading up to next weekend’s legendary, and, yes, dare I say, epic, annual birthday pub crawl. These all lead up to the big ones Thanksgiving and, of course, the biggest day of the year, Christmas!!!!!!

BR3 Ignoring Daylight Savings

Finally, if I’m going to complain (and you know I will) about the pollical parties and their descent into the fringes of their constituencies, where the far right controls the republicans and the radical left the democrats, then I should at least participate in the process. For that reason, I voted today in the Worcester municipal election. I did my research and tried to weed out the radical leftists on the ballot and vote for centrists. Of course there were no republicans candidates to vote for, this remains the People’s Republic of Taxxachusetts, after all.

Finished Another Puzzle

My Shirt Today

Five movies fell in my A-Z watch, all keepers: Hanna, awesome action and when you knew Ronan would be a star; Hangover I-III, R-rated fun as the Wolfpack terrorizing family and friends, worth to see the ending photo gallery; and Hard to Kill, thought I would get rid of but still watchable and then there’ Ms. LeBrock.

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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 him her single days in Brooklyn; 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; Soxfather - my brother in law; Tia Loca – wife’s younger sister; Wingman – my son in law; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course

Retiring Weekend

This weekend is unfolding kind of how I thought all retirement weekends would, filled with good times with friends and my Favorite Panamanian. With some unseasonably warm weather, there were leaves to be picked up and grills to be prepared for winter retirement. That infusion of fresh autumnal air made keeping awake a challenge until the festivities started. They started with the First Friday Family FaceTime call. It was quick for the son and daughter. The son was trying to keep up with both the BRS and BR3 in Halloween candy fueled careening. My daughter was in northern New York state celebrating yet another 40^th birthday of a fellow Curbside gal. That left the “adults”, my sister and I, to have leisurely conversation while Great Aunt’s dog, Remy, loudly crunched on his weekly bone. Most of the conversation centered on her visit to the vet with her nasty cat who recently added incontinence his repertoire. She was ready to make “the decision” but was talked into settling for some blood work before final decisions. She declined the offered CT scan and other costly procedures (in my opinion the cat was lucky to get the bloodwork).

Wife and I Friday Night

After the call the Favorite Panamanian and I set out for a night of dancing at the local legion post. We had the usual good time there as the place featured the customary octogenarian music group. There was a younger crowd this time, average age only in the 60s. It was very reminiscent of the multitude of Fridays over our military career which usually ended at the Officers Club dancing. We were also celebrating Panamanian Independence Day, not that Friday needed additional motivation but there it was.

Panama Flag Also Flying at Home

Saturday promised to be an epic night. The Neighborhood Mafiosos had set up a group of us to attend a Murder Mystery dinner at the local Hyatt Hotel. We had a group of ten looking forward to the dinner. I’ve only been to one other of these things but it was a lot of fun. That will have to remain a highlight because last night’s event was overcrowded, overpriced, the food was terrible and the actors not that effective. My Favorite Panamanian picked the murderer out in the first five minutes (she’s scary that way). All mystery was eradicated when the suspect started acting weirdly near the end, hiding behind curtains. I feel bad speaking down on the actors’ efforts but it was what it was. We still managed to have a very good time as we were hanging with such good friends.

At The Murder Mystery

After escaping this situation, it was generally agreed that it was way too early to call it a night. We ended up back at the legion post experiencing their karaoke night. This is (and will remain in perpetuity) a spectator sport for me. You are welcome. The place was packed and it was great to submerse oneself into a true “bar environment”. It was an interesting crowd of the usual elderly and then a very young crowd. I saw someone actually had to be carded. The karaoke was interesting ranging from abysmal to almost transcendental. The best part was spending the night with good friends. Despite the dinner debacle, I rate the night as a complete success.

Much Better Time Post Dinner

Four movies fell in my A-Z watch, all keepers: The Gunman, Spicoli as an assassin, okay, he did get to surf somehow, better than I remembered; Hacksaw Ridge, amazing retelling of an even more amazing man; Hall Pass, you have to forgive a lot with the Farelleys but still very funny; and Hands of Stone, epic story of Duran.

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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 him her single days in Brooklyn; 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; Soxfather - my brother in law; Tia Loca – wife’s younger sister; Wingman – my son in law; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course

Day of Los Muertos

Today’s an important day in my Favorite Panamanian’s Latino religious year, La Dia de Los Muertos, the Day of the Dead. It’s a day when departed loved ones are remembered (something that happens every day for me). She had me helping create a list this morning that she placed in the mini-shrine she has permanently in an upstairs corner. She lit a candle and said a prayer there this morning. It usually has pictures of just her dad and sister but today there were a lot more. It brought home how many people we’ve lost over the past few years; some almost too hard to bear. I’ve always been a proponent of celebrating the life of someone who’s left us, instead of their departure. For some that is just too difficult. It’s good to remember though, they live in on in those memories.

The Upstairs Shrine Today
Please Excuse the Yankees Hat, Her Dad was a Big Fan

Of course, this follows Halloween which my wife equates with devil worship. I’ve tried, unsuccessfully, to convince her that this is an old Celtic/Anglo-Saxon harvest ritual but to no avail. She’s very upset that Panamanian kids in Panama are now trick or treating as well. She sees this insinuation of American culture as a sure sign of the apocalypse. I’m a bit more sanguine, claiming in today’s information world, Panamanian kids learned about a day when they could score free candy, and a movement was born. We only had about twenty-five groups stop by the house on Halloween but I still loved seeing the kids in costumes.

Wingman & FBR or Owl & Harry

FBR with one of her Buddies

The FBR, fully supported by her parents, is all in on Halloween, as evidenced by the attached photos. Having recently been exposed to the Harry Potter movies, she went as Harry with Wingman as the messenger owl. My daughter looked entirely too fetching in her costume as Daphne from Scooby Doo. I say I found it unsettling because when I was a teenager (back in the dark recesses of history) I had a mad crush on the Daphne cartoon (I never claimed to be too sane). We didn’t get any photos of the BRS/BR3 combo but we joined our son via Facetime where we could see the ABFA chasing them around the cul-de-sac during their trick or treating. They were both a little emotional prior to heading out which mitigated against photography. I’m glad all three granddaughters were able to partake of this awesome (if unappreciated by a certain Panamanian) tradition.

The Entire Neighborhood Gang

Both my Favorite Panamanian and I received RSV vaccinations on Tuesday because this is yet another requirement for being old. It was one of those weird injections where I could feel the stuff entering as the plunger was depressed. My wife was affected a lot more than I was. She spent most of yesterday feeling like her entire body hurt. After a great night of sleep (best time of year for that) she felt completely better today. So, I guess that means we’re both now completely protected or as much as Big Pharma can make us.

FBR on the Loose

With her Daphne Mom

Too Cute

For those of you who follow the news, you might have heard that Panama is in the midst of a nationwide upheaval. The Panamanian government has always been a bit of a kleptocracy, where each new government does its best to siphon off funds from intended purposes. In the latest case, the people have risen up when the current government extended a contract to a Canadian mining company to strip mine in the Panamanian rain forest. I’m kind of proud that the country has seemingly taken to the streets about an environmental issue. My Favorite Panamanian asked me to include this video on the blog which explains the issue.

Five movies fell in my A-Z watch, all keepers: Groove Tube – thought I would get rid of this but some really funny moments in send up of early 1970s TV; Grudge Match, Rocky versus Jake LaMotta, who ya got?; Grumpy Old Men, Matthau and Lemmon, too funny; Grumpier Old Men, then they add Sophia Loren, Yikes!; and Guarding Tess, Cage and Maclain, another dream team.

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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 him her single days in Brooklyn; 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; Soxfather - my brother in law; Tia Loca – wife’s younger sister; Wingman – my son in law; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course

Missing Pieces

Yesterday marked the birthday of none other than the Pittsburgh College Roommate. He appropriately celebrated with a humongous chunk of dead animal flesh. I am assuming several adult beverages were also sacrificed in the celebratory effort. He also, oddly, was on a submarine in one of Pittsburgh’s three rivers. The burgh can be peculiar that way. I’ve been getting memories shot to me all week by the Facebook bots reminding me of the epic surprise visit Keene Friend and I made there to celebrate his 60^th birthday. He remains, although semi-retired, a true minor sprots celebrity in Pittsburgh. Happy birthday old friend, hope you can make it to the pub crawl to properly celebrate and I expect to go to the place you found that steak the next time we visit.

The Birthday Boy and his Dead Animal

On a much more depressing side of events, I was genuinely shocked with the untimely demise of Chandler Bing over the weekend. Watching Friends with the family was a tradition with my then teenage kids and something I’ll always treasure and Chandler was the heart of the show. It seems that most of the quotes coming out of Friends (and there are so many) could be traced back to him. I know seeing the young professionals living in NYC in some way influenced my daughter to follow a similar path following college. Perry had a bunch of demons which he fought in public hoping to help others suffering from addiction. Weirdly, it feels as if we’ve lost a real friend. I guess he could “BE” that frigging funny.

R.I.P.

Finally I think I’ve finally solved what, for me, had been a long held suspicion regarding jigsaw puzzles. I’m somewhat famous within the family for completing a puzzle only to find I’m missing one piece. I’ve been known to accomplish this despite opening the and completing the puzzle in near pristine environments. The latest puzzle I opened and completed was a Christmas present and it solved the mystery when I ended up with an extra piece. I’d spent an inordinate amount of time trying to fit it in the puzzle and finally gave up and moved on. When I finished, it was still there. So, this is what happens at the puzzle factory. Obviously, all the missing one pieces from my prior puzzles ended up in someone else’s box. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Latest Puzzle and the Missing Piece (from someone else's puzzle)

Three movies fell in my A-Z watch, all keepers: The Great Escape, classic WW2 drama, holds up well, love McQueen; Grindhouse, Deathproof, love these odes to grindhouse cinema, Kurt Russel great as a villain; and Grindhouse, Planet Terror, superb sendup of 1970s zombie flicks, just too funny, especially the prosthetic grenade launcher.

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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 him her single days in Brooklyn; 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; Soxfather - my brother in law; Tia Loca – wife’s younger sister; Wingman – my son in law; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course

Friday Returns

Friday marked a return to post-Friday Family Facetime dancing. We hadn’t been back to the Legion post since August due to granddaughter presence, followed by weekend activities, combined with some vertigo issues on the spousal side. We decided to go with just the two of us since the Neighborhood Mafioso was hors de combat. We fell in on a planned Halloween party where we were once again amongst the youngest people there (one of the attractions since it is so rare nowadays). It was a fairly quiet night but it was fun being out and about again instead of hanging out Friday night in the Man Cave, which as much as I love it, is decidedly not where I should be on a Friday night, despite my age.

Back at the Post
These Guys Won the Costume Contest

We were not the only ones out at a Halloween party. My son and his crew were out as well. My son and the ABFA teamed up as Barbie and Ken and luckily my son didn’t take any of the advice my Favorite Panamanian offered as costume advice. They looked great. We had minimal luck linking up with my daughter as she and Wingman were out and about this weekend. After none of the granddaughters wanted to talk with us at all on Friday (our status amongst them seems to have seriously waned), we were surprised to receive calls from the FBR yesterday where she talked with us at length over two separate calls. Her mom was at a film festival after spending Friday at a book launch (she’s so very NYC). The FBR related her experiences at swim lessons where she had been advanced a level in the past week. It was like old times with the FBR as she definably abandoned her teenage-like disdain for us. I guess she saves that for when her parents are present to impress them.

FBR After Swim Lessons Yesterday

Barbie and Ken with their Progeny

Finally, look what washed up on the beach not far from our condo! This was sent to us from some neighbors. I knew Panama had alligators (called caimans). In the distant past, it always made me nervous when I, as a lieutenant, led infantry patrols when we had to move through one of the seemingly omnipresent Panamanian swamps at night. You would see glowing eyes and sometimes hear large animals moving about in the dark in our vicinity. This happened especially when crossing the legendary Mohinga Swamp on the Atlantic side when we acted at the guerrilla opposing force for visiting USA based infantry battalions at the Jungle Operations Center. I knew there was a large caiman that had set up shop in the small river behind the Show Pony Hotel near our condo. If saltwater crocs are migrating from Australia this could have a definite impact on my boogie boarding. It looks like a caiman and my only question is what the hell is he doing on the ocean side (other than dying that is).

Whoa!

Three movies fell in my A-Z watch, all keepers: The Great Outdoors, thought I would be getting rid of this but Candy is still fun to watch; The Great Wall, loved the military pageantry of the Chinese army on the wall; and The Greatest Showman, just flat love the songs in this movie.  

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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 him her single days in Brooklyn; 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; Soxfather - my brother in law; Tia Loca – wife’s younger sister; Wingman – my son in law; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course

October Snowblowing

No, the weather reports are correct, we had temperatures in the low 80s over the past couple days. I have however, in the past, had to move snow in October; once notably on the driveway from hell in Charlton on Halloween. I mention that because I had failed to get my snow blower ready for that major storm and I truly hate using a snow shovel. I think of my snow blower as a very good friend who was hiding for most of my life. After so many New Hampshire winters shoveling snow on my mother’s long driveway (1978, I‘m looking at you!); I discovered the ease a snow blower provides in my post military life. I am not going back! That is a very long introduction as to why I had my trusty good friend out in the driveway this afternoon awaiting my old friends from Sears Home Service. In the past I’ve always started it up every few weeks after the winter just to keep it in fighting shape. I missed a couple over the summer and when I tried to start it in August, it refused to turn over. In September, I eventually got it to start but it would immediately quit if I didn’t keep pumping the gas button. I know what everyone is thinking – carburetor. Despite my mother’s sometimes epic battles with Sears I’ve had good experience with their home repair dudes. Today was no exception and I learned a lot.

My Good Friend Awaiting Attention

This guy had been doing this for over thirty years and once I explained the issue he grinned and said, “carburetor”, as I nodded in a fairly sagely manner. I always enjoy watching good mechanics at work because they’ve mastered something I wished I could do and I love watching experts at work. He tried cleaning out the carburetor but it still wouldn’t perform as well as it needed to, so he replaced it. He quickly got the new carburetor installed and we fired up the blower. We had a running conversation about what I should be doing with the summer storage. He said I need to use some stuff called TruFuel instead of gas at the end of winter when the machine will be idle for a long time. It protects the fuel system and could last as long as three years. He also said I shouldn’t use any gas that was older than 90 days. I politically failed to point out that the gas I had in the blower was 11 months old.

After he departed, I moved the blower out back and left it running to kill the rest of the gas in the tank. I then headed to Home Dept to secure enough TruFuel to get through the winter. As I was moving the blower, now running on TruFuel, back into the garage, a floating object caught my attention in the garage rafters. The mystery of what happened to the ABFA’s surprise birthday balloon was solved. I guess it snuck out of the car while we were loading up for last week’s trip. This confirms my status as a world class idiot. While wheeling the blower back to its nest I noticed the trees in our back yard were spectacular, the best I’ve seen this fall in spite of all the driving I’ve done in search of color, go figure.

ABFA Balloon

Home Grown Color

Four movies fell in my A-Z watch, all keepers: The Graduate, still don’t believe a young Katherine Ross would fall for Dustin Hoffman but still a fun watch; Gran Torino, may be Eastwood’s best performance, loved it; Gravity, simply great movie, keeps tension taut for the entire time and then there’s Sandra Bullock as well; The Great Santini, Duvall is so good as the maniacally flawed military dad.

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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 him her single days in Brooklyn; 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; Soxfather - my brother in law; Tia Loca – wife’s younger sister; Wingman – my son in law; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course