Birthday Redemption

The Gang at Brew City Last Night

Yesterday I had about as much fun as is legal in Taxachusetts. My birthday fell on Thursday which dampened enthusiasm a little bit due to the unfortunate intrusion of work responsibilities. I did manage to get both my wife and son together for a lunch that day which was definitely the highlight of the day.

Yesterday all forces converged for a truly memorable celebration.  My boss organized a First Friday get together at Brew City with a great turnout of current and former work colleagues gathered.  My son was traveling to our home for the weekend and since Brew City was on the way he stopped in as well.  Finally my friend from Keene was coming down so he picked up my wife and they both joined us as well. In other words this was a marvelous crowd and we dominated the room.  I think the best times are when you can gather round the people most important to you and just enjoy the interplay – so much fun.

Since the M.E.G. was also travelling down we had to adjourn to insure she didn’t arrive at an empty house.  After a short pit stop at the house to pick her up we continued the frivolity at Zorbas.  We’re fairly well known to the manager so he was real apologetic when there wasn’t a table immediately available.  We set up at the bar and continued the banter, including a combined singing of happy birthday to my sister on the phone that caused the entire restaurant to cease conversation (she’s more than worth it). 

We didn’t even notice the time passing but the harried manager came by a couple times to apologize.  I told him not to worry because we were having too good a time to even mind.  He ended up buying the entire group a round of drinks.  We finally did get a table to devour a couple of the mystical Zorbas pizzas.

We ended the night back home where we filled a gaping hole in the M.E.G.’s movie watching experience.  She had never seen the uber-guy’s flick – Road House.  She was a good sport and tolerated the excess testosterone flowing as Dalton and Wade Garrett cleaned up the Double Deuce yet again. 

A truly superb day due to the people I got to spend it with.

The Group "Suffering" at the Bar at Zorba's

Sister Luck

My Sister (The Best Person I Know) and I

Today is the birthday of my older sister.  She was born 364 days before me (what were my parents thinking?!) so I effectively ruined her first birthday party.  Despite that and the myriad other sacrileges a typical younger brother inflicts on his older sister over the course of a childhood, I think she still likes me (maybe not after seeing all these pictures but I digress).  She’s incredibly smart, a gentle soul, and one of the toughest people you’ll ever meet – a truly fascinating combination.

She survived a horrific car accident as a college freshman that nearly killed her and caused her to miss most of that year and yet she went to graduate on time (like I said tough!).  She is not the most vocal person in any crowd and will sit back and allow other people to underestimate just how intelligent she is. 

She absolutely adored my kids from the moment she met them.  We were lucky enough to live in the same town when the kids were very young and often had to go looking for them in the nearby Tia’s house.  When found they were usually covered in cookie dough or cake mix as they destroyed my sister’s kitchen with their latest cooking experiments.  Both of my now adult children still talk about the “adventures” with her as she would take them on long hikes through the New Hampshire woods whenever we came home, usually accompanied by a very vocal dog named Katie.

Animals, what can I say, my sister cannot resist having animals around her.  By current accounting, she has two cats, a dog, a very large turtle, and some sort of predatory lizard in residence.   She’s totally incapable of disciplining them in any form (like I said – gentle) and the animals sense this in her.  It is truly a case of pure love.

That love extends to her family where she’s created a home that exudes the sense of family and welcome.  She found her soul mate and they’ve been married for over thirty years and I’m eternally grateful for her finding the brother I never had growing up. They named their adopted son after me and I marvel at the lengths she’s gone to provide him with a home filled with love.  I often think how blessed he was that she was there waiting for him.

I don’t let a lot of people get very close to me but the closest, by far, is my big sister.  We were forged in the same fire in the challenges of our upbringing and I know she’s the more tempered steel.  I love her and she deserves the best birthday ever.

Note:  She has absolutely no sense of direction.  Whatsoever.  Everyone has to have at least one flaw.

Sitting Between My Sister and "Brother" at Their Wedding
Second Most Fun I've Had at Wedding

My Big Sis

Always There For Me

High School - Piercing Intelligence

Cute Toddler

Six Years Old

Holding My Daughter at Christmas

1990's

 

Visiting us in Hawaii - 1993

With My Kids Returning from One of Thier Adventures

They Could Tire Her Out But She Never Complained

With Her Cherished Son and Our Mother

Doing Headstands with My Daughter Because She Asked Her To

With Katie Pup - Faithful (and Loud) Fellow Adventurer

Visiting Us in Kansas

Yet Another Adventure

Chillin in Mom's pool

They Even Climbed Mountains Together

Admiring Polar Bear's Table Manners

Can Be a Bit of a Goof

In The Big Hair Era

Love You Sis!

Birthday Boy oh Boy

The Monument I Happened Upon

Today is my 57^th birthday which means one thing – I’ve accumulated way too many of these things.  The happy birthday wishes are rolling in on Facebook which is one of the neatest things about that platform.  My wife woke me up with a chocolate chip pancake breakfast and we’re having lunch with my son – can’t beat that with a very large stick.  I love birthdays – some things you never outgrow.

My wife has been trying unsuccessfully to throw a surprise birthday party for me for years.  We’re so far from friends and family so that’s not happening this year either.  It’s something I told her that I really never had and would love to experience some day.  She’s just not very good at the subterfuge thing which is probably good news for me in other areas.

Yesterday was one of those interminable days (aren’t all birthday eves?).  I spent the entire day sitting in a room with lawyers and a federal arbitrator along with the union for an arbitration hearing.  I was able to get a lot of busy work done on the computer while the lawyers droned on.  I did have one good moment when the guy testifying told a bold faced lie.  I leaned over to the management lawyer and whispered in her ear and I could see the union president and business agent get real concerned.

While we were waiting for the library (where the hearing was) to open I wandered around a little bit.  I came upon a very nice monument to Major Taylor.  He has a street named after him in Worcester.  He was a world champion African-American bicyclist at the turn of the 19^th century and was based in Worcester where he trained on some of the daunting hills available.  He overcame a lot of obstacles and was apparently a superb individual.  I’ve stated before that this is one of the things I really like about Worcester – a lot of hidden treasures such as this monument and the memory of the man it is dedicated to.

The Back of the Monument

Skyfalling

Last night was date night (moved back to Tuesday to accommodate yoga classes for one of us) and we went to see the latest James Bond epic – Skyfall.  I was a little concerned when I heard Sam Mendes was directing because he gets a little carried away with himself in his movies.  007 shouldn’t spend an entire movie contemplating his navel and I was concerned that might happen with Mendes at the helm.

While there was a lot more introspection than your normal Bond adventure it certainly worked.  The first twenty minutes disabused me of the concern for the lack of action with Bond commandeering a train (with a back hoe!) and then being shot.  My radar went up for the next 45 minutes though (my wife even fell asleep) (in a Bond movie!) but the plot soon got away from bickering British bureaucrats and got Bond back throwing people off skyscrapers. 

Craig looked a little tired in this one, hopefully because he was supposed to be in the plot.  There were neat little homages to the Bonds of yesteryear, including two beloved characters reappearing, which is something I always love.  This had the feel of a transition film where we’re moving the background people around Bond and shaking up his private life. Javier Bardem has to be one weird dude or he just might be a fantastic actor.  He was totally eerie as the bad guy and scored another unfortunate hairdo (becoming something of a signature for him).

The bottom line is that this is a great film and one of the best Bonds ever.  I shouldn’t have worried.  Even a touchy feely guy like Mendes is no match for the irresistible force which is James Bond.

Return to Exercise & Late Night Flight Frustrations

The Way My Body Felt Yesterday

Yesterday I was sufficiently recovered from the cold from hell to get back to exercising.  I was dreading it a little bit because a week away from working out makes the return all the more painful.  I clearly remember back in my 30’s when I could be away from working out for a couple weeks and get right back into it. 

That all went away when I hit 40.  I started to notice that if I missed a day or two that the return was a little more painful than it should have been.  One of the benefits of getting older is that it seems this effect not only remains but increases as you get older, so I got that going for me.  In a small way it may be a good thing because it forces some personal discipline in that you realize how much tougher it will be if you miss too much.

I did my normal run in Worcester.  It was kind of strange running by piles of snow in 70 degree heat.  The run was fine until the half way (furthest from my ultimate destination) point when my lungs decided they didn’t want to work as hard as required.  When the lungs go the legs soon follow but I was able to make it back to the office with only a mildly embarrassing shamble that in no way could be described as running.

My swim last night was a little more encouraging, after the first ten minutes which were an absolute torture (lungs again).  I think my body realized I was serious and decided to stop rebelling.  I was also assisted by the distraction of a grotesque side show at the pool.  An overweight lady, who had to be in her 40’s, was cavorting in the pool with a teenaged boy.  She said in a loud voice several times that she hoped her husband didn’t walk in on them.  The boy, like most teenagers, seemed fascinated by the female attention – despite the epic proportions.  It was kind of like a car wreck – impossible to ignore and it did distract me from my cramping legs.

When I got home my wife continued her daily ritual of haranguing me about buying airplane tickets.  As a Christmas present, I promised to fly her sister up in January for a visit.  This started one of her serious “harassment” phases where she calls me at work and constantly reminds me to check on air fares.  Last night I went on line and found a moderately good price and bought the ticket.  My wife then said I should buy her a ticket for the return flight.  I was so annoyed with her at this point that I gladly put her on a flight back to Panama with her sister at the end of January.  She then said she wanted to be there for two months, so my pleasure was short lived.  I’m going to miss the harassment, truth be told.

I was trying to watch a recorded show when she pranced back into the room and announced that she was trying to talk her cousin through buying tickets on line so she could be on the same flights as my wife’s sister.  There’s a whole gang coming (should be fun).  Neither of them are very computer savvy and her cousin speaks no English.  When I saw they were using a web site in English I told them that it probably wouldn’t work with a foreign credit card and was summarily ignored.  Forty-five minutes later after dozens of interruptions to ask me somewhat inane questions they got to the point where the site said it did not accept foreign credit cards.  It was a little appropriate that the show she kept interrupting me from seeing was the latest Dexter, I was definitely getting some ideas. 

All kidding aside (I was kidding) (honest) this is what makes living with my wife such a great adventure.  She cares abundantly and not always comfortably but it’s always an adventure.

In The Pool Last Night

 

Clean Garages and Patriot Fears

Good if Troubling Win

Now that our cold symptoms seem to be in full retreat my wife and I launched into some overdue projects this past weekend.  The weather warmed up significantly but I knew I had to tackle my least favorite annual activity (other than prostate exams that is) – the mounting of the snow blower to the lawn tractor.  Obviously I missed the boat again this year with the eight inches of snow out in the driveway melting away but I’m guessing we may get some more snow this winter.

Buddy insisted on helping and didn’t pee on the garage floor this year (he considers it outside and fair game) which was his major contribution.  It went so much better this year because I let my wife help with the dreaded wheel weight mounting which can be something of a contortionist nightmare doing alone.  I removed the mowing deck and power washed all of those components before storing them for the winter.  

Part of the installation process is placing a deck of drive wheels under the mower and the directions can be misleading.  They show the deck right side up in some diagrams and inverted (as placed under the mower) for others.  It even confused the Sears technician last year (no I’m not going into that area again – fish and barrel stuff there).  When I completed the assembly I immediately attacked the vestiges of the snow on the driveway before they could melt away – small satisfaction but you take what you can get.

As stated above, the biggest reason this year’s installation went so well was due to the assistance of my wife.  The only problem was that she noticed how dirty the garage was while she was out there assisting me.  So, after I finished cleaning the garage (to be fair – she helped) I was able to settle in with Buddy to watch the Patriots game against the Bills.

Buddy normally roams the house and protects us from all sorts of dangers but yesterday he needed some football.  He actually leaned back and tried to emulate my couch potato position (see photo taken by my bemused spouse below).

The Patriots let another inferior team hang around yesterday.  Their defense is so inconsistent.  They obviously made some adjustments when they figured out they needed to apply pressure to the Buffalo quarterback.  They then abandoned that approach and let him sit back and pick apart their suspect secondary.  My wife was trying to have a phone conversation with a friend in the waning minutes and kept apologizing for my profane outbursts.  Luckily Buffalo was Buffalo and the quarterback threw a last minute interception to seal the win for the Patriots but this defense has to get more consistent if they are going anywhere this year.

I still felt like hitting something after the game so Buddy and I went out to put in the snow poles along the driveway.  These let me know where the edge of the driveway is under future snow falls.  I woke up this morning with a sore elbow for from the energetic pounding.  Getting old still sucks.

The Dreaded Annual Task

Power Washing the Mower Deck

Buddy Offering His Expertise

Revenge!!!!

Buddy Earning Couch Potato Status

Happy Veterans Day

I post this every Veterans Day because it says what being a veteran is 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

My wife and I traveled to my cousin's town for a Veterans Day dinner last night and had such a good time.  My cousin has lived in the same town for his entire life and is surrounded by the greatest group of friends.  We sat with them last night and they welcomed us as if we belonged.  There was supposed to be dancing but everyone was having such a good time that no one noticed it never happened (if you know my wife - that is a huge indicator of how much fun we were having).  We made the late night drive back home (well my wife did most of that driving) with a feeling of contentment for being allowed to share in the warmth of my cousin's circle of friends.

My Wife and My Cousin

My Cousin's Wife and Some of Those Great Friends

My Cousin With My Wife's Purse - Don't Ask