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Some News from my Hometown

Wednesday, February 18th, 2009

written Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Rockport, TX

In case you’ve missed reading all the major news stories the past few days… or your subscription to Time and Newsweek has run out… or you’ve been pre-occupied with the news about our failing economy and the attempts of an inept congress to deal with it all… I thought I’d perform a public service and provide a couple links to some big news out of my home town, Beaver Dam, Wisconsin. This is all courtesy of my Dad. Thanks Dad.

The first one comes from the Town of Westford — the town that time forgot — which is located about 50 years west of Beaver Dam. It also happens to be where my sweetie, Dar, grew up as a child.

Goat breaks into home, eats cake

TOWN OF WESTFORD – What do you get when a goat follows a dog into a house?

For Sherry Shirley of Westford the answer is a big mess.

When she opened the front door of her home at W10690 Lake Road to let her dog in Saturday morning, a full-grown goat burst into the house, jumped onto a kitchen counter and helped itself to a freshly-baked chocolate cake, according to the Dodge County Sheriff’s Department.

Deputies responded to a call from Shirley at 11:43 Saturday morning, but a neighbor had dragged the goat from the home by its horns before officers arrived, patrol captain Molly Soblewski said.

“The goat didn’t do a lot of damage. It knocked some dishes to the floor that broke and began eating the chocolate cake she had just made,” Soblewski said.

The chocolate cake caper, however, was far from a perfect crime. Deputies followed the goat’s tracks to a nearby farm on Mill Road and had it behind bars by 12:35 p.m. Saturday.

Soblewski said the owners of the goat will not be cited.

“It was just an unfortunate circumstance,” she said. “I feel sorry for the lady, but it is kind of funny.”

A link to the actual story in case you think I’m making this up…

=======================

The next one sounds like something I might have done about 40 years ago. The town has a long history of producing comedians…

BEAVER DAM: BD man gets stuck in his trunk

A 19-year-old Beaver Dam man realized he was not as funny as he thought he was when he got stuck in the trunk of his car on Friday night.

According to Beaver Dam police reports, the man was attempting to play a practical joke on his girlfriend when he climbed into the trunk of his Pontiac Sunfire in the parking lot of Wal-Mart Supercenter at 7:30 p.m.

The man jumped into the trunk of the car. The 18-year-old woman did not have a key to the vehicle and the man was unable to get back into the car through the back seat, officer Travis Wetterau said.

The man was able to describe where the car was located in the parking lot and the man’s friend waited with him outside the vehicle. The doors of the vehicle were also locked.

Police used a device that they use to open up car windows to access the locks on car doors to get in the window. Wetterau said after they gained access to the car, they pulled the seats down from inside the car and the man was able to get out safely.

A link for those skeptics out there…

It’s nice to step back once in a while and put things in perspective, isn’t it?

Grinning broadly in Rockport

T

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Terror From the North

Friday, January 16th, 2009

written Friday, January 16, 2009
Rockport, TX

Commentary
Item: A US Airways A-320 airliner ditches in the Hudson River on Thursday after being struck by birds on take off from New York’s LaGuardia Airport. Due to the skill of the pilots and quick response from those on the ground everyone survived.

A later report stated that the plane flew through a flock of Canada Geese.

Alright, that’s it! This is the last straw! We were lucky this time… that may not be the case next time. If, in fact, it turns out these were Canada Geese let me be the first to call for prompt action against Canada — our seemingly friendly neighbor to the North. The people and the government of Canada have a long history of harboring these big birds… these terrorist turkeys… these weapons of mass defecation, and sending them on annual missions of destruction into the continental United States.  This latest attack is a ratcheting-up of tactics with the introduction of “guided geese” — homing honkers willing to die for the cause. In the interest of harmonious international relations we’ve looked the other way and held our collective noses far too long while our parks are pooped and our shorelines are sullied — and now our airliners are being taken out of the skies. It’s become clear to me that Canada is engaged in a unilateral biological war against the U.S.A. that won’t stop until we take decisive action to protect the safety and security of our population. The solution is nothing short of invasion, taking control of this terrorist-fowl harboring state, and forcing a regime change as soon as possible. The world will be a much better place when we’re through.

Write your congressman and senators. Let’s not shrink from our responsibility to help keep America safe and clean.

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Chapters and Partys

Monday, January 5th, 2009

written Monday, January 05, 2009
Rockport, TX

Lives, like novels, are made up of chapters. But unlike novels, we, being the complex little creatures we are, have multiple chapters playing out at the same time. We might have a dozen or more separate and concurrent dramas going on, each with different starting and ending points. This is complicated stuff and often festers into lives so busy there’s no time to think.

But whether the subject of the chapter is “My College Years”, “My Life in the Fastening Business”, “Raising My Children”, or “My Years on Cedar Avenue”, there’s a point in time when it’s crystal clear that a particular chapter is over… you graduate or retire or move or watch your kids graduate. All that remains are memories. Those are the times I find myself getting a little pensive as I reflect on the past and wonder about the future — the next chapter.

We ended a big chapter when we sold the house and started this fulltiming lifestyle. There was a nearly 6 month period of adjustment as we prepared for the change, but when it finally arrived, when we closed the door of that house on Cedar Avenue for the last time, it sort-of took my breath away — the memories, the neighbors, the future, living fulltime in 300 sq. ft. with Dar — so much left behind yet so much still ahead.

January 1, New Years, can be like that if you let it. Although just an artificial chapter based on time alone, it does provide a nice neat opportunity to think about your life, to make resolutions based on shortcomings harvested from critical reflection… if you’re honest with yourself. Whether you keep them or not is less important than the process of thinking about your life, your relationships, your place in the world. This year, I resolve, to try, to use fewer, commas, as I write.

The past two years I’ve observed mature people in RV Parks on New Years Eve. Both years we’ve attended celebrations with food, booze, music, and dancing. This year the party was to start at 8pm, with the doors opening at 7:30. If the event doesn’t allow for advanced table reservations, like this year, each group sends an advanced scouting and raiding party that stands in line early, rushes the door as the bolt is retracted, and claims the best table they can find by making themselves appear as large as they can — hanging, laying, on as many as three or four chairs at the same time and drapping purses, coolers, coats, and medication bags all around. This is recognized by the others, and by AARP, as clear title to that table for the rest of the night.

During the next hour or so the advanced table-claiming party, usually all women, is joined by the rest of the contingent — the guys who have been talked into showing up on the basis of how much fun they’re going to have. Everyone starts to loosen up, laughs, eats, drinks and dances a little. Jokes are enjoyed. Conversations are light and fun.

About 9:00pm, if you’re astute, you begin to notice something. It usually starts with the guys… the clandestine furtive quick glances at their watches. Their faces begin to reveal what they’re thinking… “Oh God, three more hours… I don’t see how I’m going to make it… what were we thinking when we agreed to this?” Some begin making intricate plans to fake medical symptoms as a way out. Others can be seen nodding off. Still others, with stark resolve on their faces, hunker down, have another drink, and are determined to make it.

By 10:00pm, a sort of triage is beginning to happen. You’ve got the ones that wil clearly make it, those that clearly won’t, and a declining number in the middle that could go either way. At 11:00pm there’s usually a New Year countdown started by some guy who’s arm is aching and stiff from holding his watch in front of his face for the past two hours. He’s got a watch that’s synchronized every day with the atomic clock buried deep in some mountain in Colorado — and he becomes the authority of the moment. “Three… two… one… Happy New Year… well, at least in New York”. Kiss Kiss, Toast Toast, Yahoo!… let’s go Dear. About half of the party is left after the East Coast New Year.

T&D on New Years Eve

The last hour passes quickly however. A lot of guys have gotten enough alcohol on board to actually brave the dance floor, and a lot of others are entertained watching them. There’s usually some new food or snacks that show up. And it’s easy to kill 10 minutes on every trip to the restroom. And then there’s that strange human reaction to a known diminishing time period… the closer you get to the end the faster time goes… like slamming on the brakes when you know you’re going over the cliff and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

As midnight nears, the band stops playing and starts the countdown… “Three… two… one… Happy New Year!” They play a few bars of Auld Lang Syne. And then it’s over. By 12:05am the band is packing up, tables are being cleared, coats are being put on. By 12:10am, everyone is gone and the place is dark, cold, and locked.

Happy New Year Everyone.

T

Posted in Commentary, Musings From the Road, Travel Log | 1 Comment »

The Crisis with our Economy and our Way of Life

Wednesday, November 26th, 2008

written Wednesday afternoon, November 26, 2008
Texarkana, TX.

I’ve been spending some time every day reading and trying to understand this economic crisis we’re all in. More and more people, including the new President Elect, are saying this is an immense problem of historic, almost biblical, proportions. While there’s a tendency, a human need, to believe the future will be like the past — reliable, predictable, and, hopefully, better — it’s looking more and more like this will change our way of life for many years into the future.

For your consideration:  First, this well written article by Tom Friedman of the New York Times. It’s worth the five minutes it’ll take to read.

(Link to Friedman column “All Fall Down”)  Click to read

Next, here’s an excerpt from an important article on Bloomberg.com. Written by Mark Pittman and Bob Ivry, it provides some information that few of us know and less understand.

(Link to Bloomberg.com article by Pittman and Ivry)  Click to read.

Once all that soaks in you’ll be looking for the scotch bottle.

T

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The Bill Clinton Museum

Sunday, November 23rd, 2008

written Sunday, November 23, 2008
Maumelle COE Park near Little Rock, AR.

Back in the Spring of this year, as we traveled eastward from Oregon and Washington, our exploration theme was to follow the Lewis & Clark Trail. As I wrote yesterday, themes put some organization and objectives to our travels — they help set a path and highlight obvious places that need to be checked out.

Since leaving Wisconsin in October, we have multiple themes for our travels. Seeing as many State Capitols (as we did Friday) is one. Visiting as many Presidential Libraries and Museums is another.

So yesterday, Saturday, Dar and I trekked back downtown and spent the afternoon at the William Jefferson Clinton Presidential Center and Park. The building is set in a new city park hard on the banks of the Arkansas River, which was previously a run-down warehouse district. Because a theme of Clinton’s campaigns and administration was “a bridge to tomorrow”, the building was designed to appear like a bridge reaching out toward the Arkansas River. Some locals refer to the building as the “bridge to nowhere”.

In the past few years I’ve become more aware and pay attention to architecture and building design. I’m certainly no expert but I have opinions. (ah, opinions, that great democratizing element of the non-professional. Like Jimmy Durante used to say about jokes, “I’ve got a million of ‘em!”) Have you ever noticed how you can often date buildings that were considered “modern” or “revolutionary” at the time they were built? There are some buildings built in the late 60’s on the campus of the University of Wisconsin that were considered “cutting edge” and “the look of the future”.

Photo of the Humanities Building on the U.W. Madison Campus.

Humanities on the UW Campus Madison

Now, after a few decades, it’s clear they have failed the test off time. They look like huge expensive mistakes, they’re not very functional, and there’s a growing sentiment that these things need to be removed and replaced — after a mere 40 years — before future generations start asking “what were these guys were smoking?”. They’ll be a short-lived monument to an architect who was trying to exceed his/her abilities and had no sense of classical style.

Those glass encased things that tower over and dominate most big city skylines are further examples of this. There is nothing natural or beautiful about them beyond their shear size, scale, and cheap space — in my humble, uneducated, opinion.

Anyway, back to Bill’s Museum. As we drove onto the grounds and I got a good look at the structure, I pondered. (a friend of mine ponders a lot — claims pondering is a largely lost practice. I’ve been trying to emulate him and ponder some everyday.) Will this building stand the test of time? In 40 years, or 100 years, will it be considered fresh and functional?… a classic structure that’s pleasing to the eye?… that flows, fits in with it’s surroundings, and will cause future onlookers to somehow NOT want to stop looking at it? Or will it be as out-of-place, dated, ugly, and abandoned as the old railroad bridge that currently sits adjacent to the property? I don’t know. But my opinion is that it’ll be dated and look out-of-place in the not-to-distant future.

Photo of the Clinton Museum.

Clinton Museum in Little Rock

All that building stuff aside, we both love history and spending an afternoon walking down memory lane at another of the 19 Presidential Libraries scattered around the country. These are not libraries in the traditional sense, but more repositories of the papers, records, and paraphernalia of a specific President’s terms in office. They’re really more museums than libraries.

The exhibits are usually designed in a time-line fashion, so you can walk, peruse, and remember your way through that President’s life. Of course there’s a lot of emphasis on the time in office — world events, legislative initiatives, foreign leaders, and results — all as seen and interpreted by the President himself. It’s good to keep in mind as you journey through this history that there are other interpretations of what happened and why. Presidential libraries are one means that a past president can, in some ways, attempt to influence his place in history. They are a past President’s after-the-fact campaign for a good perception in the minds of future generations. For example, there was only one small panel that referred to impeachment, and it was under a theme of “Power Struggle with Congress”.

Often, these libraries bring in other, unrelated, exhibits to help draw people in. The Clinton Library was full of customized motorcycles, “choppers” as they call them, that are really more works of art than they are functional motorcycles. A few of them look like they’d be nearly impossible to ride, and if not impossible, very uncomfortable. We enjoyed seeing the diversity and imagination of the guys that build these things. They really are works of art.

We enjoyed the afternoon thoroughly.

T

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