Navy Pier

As part of my vacation “up north”, I spent all day Sunday with my Chicago family - at Navy Pier.

As related earlier, I traveled to northwestern Indiana to see my family, and help celebrate, what turned out to be, three birthdays. I had moved from there about 6 months ago, after spending the previous 18 months with our son John, his wife Tonya, and in the same town, 4 grand-children, and 6 great-grandchildren.

My wife of 65 years - not her age, but our years together - joined the heavenly chorus the previous October.

On about Thursday of the week at John’s, I called my Chicago family to arrange to visit them also. Our former daughter-in-law Betty, along with her son Jim, daughter Sherilyn and granddaughter (my GREAT-granddaughter) Elora, drove to Chesterton on Sunday morning to pick me up.


Elora

I had offered to take the South Shore train to Chicago, but they called me right back, insisting that they would come and get me.

Works for me!

At about 10:30 on Sunday morning, the four of them arrived at John’s front door, and ushered me into the front seat of Jim’s car. Jim, Jr., that is.

The weather was rainy, and a little cold. Betty said that they were hoping for a nice sunny day, so we could enjoy ourselves at the relatively new entertainment center (at least to me) on Navy Pier in Chicago.

On our drive west on I 90, then north on Stony Island Avenue in Chicago, the weather began getting better and better. Jim turned onto Lake Shore Drive, right next to the Museum of Science and Industry on Chicago’s south side, and the drive along the lake was unusually pleasant. Nice day after all.

We had been to Navy Pier maybe 50 or 60 years ago, when it was mostly “just a pier”, so to speak. Not now! It has turned into an amazing Amusement Park.

Jim made the proper turns, and we ended up driving to the Parking Garage there, and ended up on the fourth floor of the garage. We all got out, and headed for the elevator.

Arriving at ground level, it became obvious that this was a place to be desired - if one wanted to enjoy oneself - with eating, relaxation, rides - including maybe the largest “Ferris Wheel” I ever saw. It may not have even been called that, but it was a big wheel that “went around”, with seats on it. Looked like a “Ferris Wheel” to me.



From a distance, I kept looking at it and wondering why it never moved. I kept looking back and staring at it. After awhile, I discovered that IT WAS MOVING - just so slowly that I couldn’t tell it.

In about the center of one of the inside walkways was a stage, which provided different family entertainment every half hour. Jim discovered that a fellow magician friend of his was to perform at 1:30, so we decided we’d eat - then watch the show.

We made for the inside “fast food” places, and ate. Some wanted McDonald’s and others something else. I went to the other side and saw a Chinese place, so I got two egg rolls.

After eating outside on park benches,



in the sun,



and under the umbrella, it was time to “go to the show”.



(Elora - 4 years old - took most of these “umbrella” pictures.)

Time for the Magic Show!

Elora was chosen as one of the helpers.



The Magician turned out to be VERY GOOD. His presentation was, in my layman’s opinion, captivating.

After the show, we began pondering what was next on the agenda.

Somebody said, “Well, there’s always a boat ride. (There must have been a dozen different boats, and types of rides).

Having decided that, Jim and Betty started for the ticket booth - handily blocking me from getting in front.

“What’s goin’ on?”, I asked. Jim said, “We’re payin’.” These guys had determined ahead of time that they wouldn’t let me spend anything - if they could help it. I DID manage to buy my own ice cream cup, and finally, INSISTED on paying for the parking.

The boat ride we took was called the “Architectural Boat Ride”, which traversed the Chicago River - from middle, to north, to south. Featured were the “dozens” of sky scrapers that graced the Chicago sky line. The Tour Guide was outstanding. He told us not only WHAT the buildings were, but also, the names of the Architects, Builders, and year of being erected.

Here we were near the boat:



We had lived in Chicago for 11 years in the 50’s and 60’s, and I had NEVER dreamed such information could be known - much less remembered - by one individual.

He went to great lengths to point out to us where “Mrs. O’Leary’s cow” was that “tipped over the lantern”, that started the Chicago fire of 1871.

Didn’t happen, according to our Guide. He said that in 1893, a reporter admitted spreading the false story. The exact origin is unknown.

Here is an artist's rendering of the devastation:



The Guide seemed a little “put out” about the renaming of the Sears Tower, to be the Willis Tower. After all, it is the tallest building in the City, and it was built as the Sears Tower. Apparently the building has a new owner, and he chose the new name.

The boat ride - and tour - lasted an hour, and the time went quickly.

After we got off the boat, the Tour Guide was standing near the exit, and I said to him,

“Just how many gigabytes of memory do you have in your brain to remember all that data.”

He smiled and said, “Glad you enjoyed it.” We did!

I haven’t mentioned my chronic back problem when I walk very far without stopping. I still had it that day, and we stopped several times to rest. Elora was always ready to go.



Arriving back on the Pier, we were thinking about what ride(s) Elora would like to take. No one was interested in the Ferris Wheel.

Elora, though, had experienced a ride on the “up and down” ride, and she wanted to to do it again.



After this, the afternoon had been mostly spent. We started “meandering” back to the elevator and the Parking Garage. We arrived on the 4th floor, and there was Jim’s car.

I think mostly for my benefit, he went right back to Lake Shore Drive, and headed north. Many memories flooded in - of our time in Chicago - included swimming at North Avenue Beach.

Jim followed the “Drive” all the way to Irving Park - “Forty hundred north”, I remembered - then west to nearly Cicero Avenue, then south again to Addison Street (“3600 north”), and their Condo.

Though it was late afternoon, no one even thought of eating.

My return to Chesterton could have been done at least 3 ways:

1. Jim take me back in his car; or,

2. Take me to the Randolph Street South Shore station to ride the train; or;

3. Board a bus on Addison Street east to the Elevated Station, then to the Loop and get off near the Soulth Shore station at Randolph and Michigan Avenue.

John would have to pick me up at the Dune Park station for the last two options.

A possibility that John planned before I left Chesterton on Sunday morning was for him and Tonya to pick me up, after depositing Molly’s husband Troy at the O’Hare Airport terminal to return to his 6 week Police Training in South Carolina.

Of course, that was the only feasible, and sensible course to take.

After Navy Pier, we arrived at the Condo, and just sat around talking, not even interested in anything on TV. We reminisced some, including my being able to talk to Betty’s brother, John Bach, on the telephone. I had last talked to him some 40 to 45 years ago. It was just as if we had talked last week.

At about 7:30, John called after leaving O’Hare to make arrangements to pick me up. I told him the route Jimmy suggested, and he said he’d call back when he was a few blocks away. John didn’t want to find a parking place to come in and visit, so after he called the last time, all four of us went downstairs and across the street to meet them.

They arrived shortly.

As I opened their back door to get in, I was astonished to see Troy still in the car, along with his daughter, Priscilla.

There had been someone who had fallen (or jumped) off the Chicago Avenue bridge across I 90 as they were coming into down town, and the traffic jam that ensued kept Troy from meeting his flight. Had to wait until the next day.

After some time of socializing together after a long time away, we got under way back toward Chesterton.

John and Tonya found a restaurant on Addison Street that they used to frequent when they lived there. We stopped for Dinner.

We then went back to the car, and Troy suggested he drive instead of John, to give him a break.

We arrived home safely.

On Sunday, Jimmy had asked me how I was going to return to Springfield, and I told him I had bought a bus ticket on Friday, and John was planning on driving me to South Bend to meet the bus, leaving at 8 AM Monday.

Jimmy said he’d like to drive me all the way back to Ohio. I said I’d try to arrange for a refund of my bus ticket, and accepted his offer.

(It’s now a month later, and I STILL haven’t received my refund!)

On Monday at about 10AM, Jimmy arrived, and we both left for Ohio.

Uneventful trip, capping a wonderful 6 days with these two branches of my family, in Chesterton IN and Chicago IL.

Vacation Up North

I couldn’t just name this “Vacation”, since I’ve taken a number of them since I’ve been writing. I’ve been to Florida to visit our Granddaughter Kelly and her family; I came to Ohio from Indiana; and I recently returned from a 6 day vacation in Northwest Indiana - then Chicago.

Our Granddaughter Molly was celebrating her 35th Birthday in August, so I wrote to John in July to see if any “celebration” were planned.

He replied that no “specific” plans had been made, but that they’d be glad for me to come up anyway.

Molly’s birthday was on Saturday, and since I am retired, my schedule is practically vacant - at least for major things. So, I wondered about taking a Bus to Chesterton, on Thursday before her birthday.

When I mentioned this to Jim and John, they got together on the telephone and decided they’d like for Jim to take me “half way” - somewhere near Lafayette - so I wouldn’t have to spend all day on the bus - and John would meet us there. The bus ride DOES take about nine hours for the whole trip. I’ve taken it before.

With my practically empty schedule - at least most anything could be dropped - I told them to just let me know when it was convenient for them to “drop me off”. No problem.

I marked the dates of Friday thru the following Monday to be gone, and I deleted normal plans for daily exercising; breakfast, lunch and supper every day (these are regularly on my BlackBerry daily schedule); lunch outing trips; afternoon bus rides; etc.

About a week before, John called and said that he and Tonya would be in Bloomington IN over that previous week-end, and were planning on returning home on Tuesday (prior to the planned Thursday). They would be driving through Indianapolis. Meeting there would be no change for John and Tonya, and would be considerably shorter for Jim to drive, taking me.

“Works for me”, I said.

On that Tuesday, Jim called and said he’d pick me up near 5PM. I suggested that I might save his coming all the way to my place, if I would just drive over to his house - on the way to Indianapolis from here. I’d just leave my car and car keys with him.

Our schedules worked out right, and at about 5:30PM, we left Springfield.

Jim and John reported from Cell to Cell, to learn what our locations were, as we drove.

About 15 or 20 minutes before we planned to meet, Jim and I “pulled” into a BP station on Post Road east of Indianapolis, and Jim reported to John that we had arrived.

They were on their way, and shortly, they drove in. They came right beside Jim’s van on my side, and Tonya and John got out. We greeted one another and hugged. They had already eaten, so I went in to the station for a milk shake. They went to Jim’s side of the car, and they each got caught up on news of the families.

We parted our ways - Jim back to Springfield, and us to Chesterton.

We arrived at maybe 10 PM, and we brought in our luggage, and went to bed. I slept in the same bed and room that Jean and I had while we were living with them.

Nostalgic!

There were many people I had gotten to know while living there a year and a half - not the least of which were the men at the Wednesday night Bible Class that I had attended, and, the church I visited on Sundays.

But, I was there for FAMILY, and I was determined to stay with them whenever I could.

On Wednesday morning after breakfast, John and Tonya were busy with their Internet Radio Ministry they were involved in - especially after being gone for several days in Southern Indiana.

And, the grandchildren and great-grandchildren wouldn’t be available until after 10 AM.

That being the case, at a little before 9AM, I asked John if he felt it was OK for me to take their second car and visit the Nursing Home where Jean had been a resident for 5 months before she passed.

“Fine”, he said.

I then drove the familiar 2 or 3 miles to the Nursing Home, and went in the door I always entered before.

Right away, I saw four staff members I had known, before I had hardly left the front door. We greeted each other - and hugged. All glad to see me, as I was them.

On the way to the Nurses' Floor where Jean had lived, I stopped by the Rehabilitation Center, then across the Hall to the Beauty Parlor which Jean had frequented regularly. Remembered and greeted several staff members in the Center, and the Beautician came to the door and hugged me. Farther down that hall were the Activity Director and her Assistant. Two hugs again.

Turning the corner to the second hall, I ran across Claude, a tall male African American Nurse I remembered, and he said, “Mike. How are you?” And gave me a hug.

Farther down to the Nurses’ station, I saw several nurses, aides and other staff I remembered from before, and we all had a friendly greeting for each other, and several hugs.

I saw two of the three ladies that Jean ate with every meal. Though I saw them independently, both smiled, but didn’t remember me - nor even Jean when I mentioned her name.

Kind of a shock.

I left then, after asking for the code to let me out of the door.

I must have been told a “dozen” times that “You're lookin' good”. Of course, I then gave them my standard story about that, and it seemed like none of them had heard it.

It was time enough then to go to Molly’s.

But first, I drove by Jean’s grave site in the Cemetery there. John and Tonya have kept it up. It’s a block and a half from both Molly’s and Bobby’s houses.



I pulled up out in front of Molly’s, and hadn’t even got the door open, when Elijah, Mary, Priscilla and Benjamin all RAN out to meet me. Many hugs were had by all. Molly followed shortly, and welcomed me in. Heere are Mary, Elijah, Priscilla and Benjamin on their front porch.



The first thing I noticed outside was the new Trampoline in their back/side yard. Molly’s family and their neighbor bought it together.



Awesome!

Inside, every one spoke at once, and we just “reacquainted” ourselves with one another. They showed me new things, and Mary right away wanted to play “Barbies”.






She had a new Barbie house I hadn’t seen before, so she got it out while I got down on the floor beside her. Molly right away hauled out her camera and took pictures.



After awhile, John and Tonya walked in the door, and asked Mary and me if we wanted to go to Merrillville to the “grocery”. Of course we did.

Tonya got in back with Mary and the car seat, and I climbed in beside John.

That Mary, about to turn four, jabbered to Tonya the whole time. Tonya came right back at her, and they talked and giggled the whole way.

I must stop right here and mention something.

For years, I’ve said - very sincerely - that Jean was the “best Grandma” I ever laid eyes on. I know her grandchildren think that.

But, seeing Tonya with HER grandchildren the 6 days I was there, and remembering her with them while we lived there, I have to say that Tonya rates right up there with Jean as the “best Grandma”.

Before the “grocery”, we stopped at a fast food restaurant for terrific hamburger sandwiches, then on to the store.

I had remembered the store from when I lived with them. And, I have to say, it may be the LARGEST and most complete “grocery store” I have ever seen. And, it’s MORE than a “grocery store”.

This was Wednesday, the night when the Men’s Bible Class meets. It would have been nice to go there, but I found out what the family was doing, and I went with them.

One of the things we did was to take Elijah - Molly’s oldest - to Valparaiso for a play practice. Then, later we picked him up.

After dropping him off at home, we went to Bobby and Paige’s to visit. Paige’s brother, Zachary is temporarily staying with them as he gets his business off the ground. We spent a nice time with them - Bobby, Paige, Isabelle, Janie and Zach.

What a wonderful thing - to visit with family you don’t see regularly.

On Thursday, John and Tonya had a lot to do, besides letting me use my “ScanDisk Drive” in their computer, to get stories to write on and post on my blog.

There were two Pharmacists I had gotten acquainted with when I lived there, but both of them were unavailable Wednesday or Thursday. I saw them both on Friday - one in the next town of Portage.

I spent part of Thursday morning visiting my barber; banker; hearing aid specialist; pastor; and Jean’s main and favorite Nurse named Beth, at the Nursing Home. I had missed her on Wednesday. We greeted each other with a hug, and a “nice to see you”.

The rest of Thursday is a “blur”, but I did offer to take John and Tonya out to eat - which never happened! Instead, on Saturday night THEY TOOK ME to my favorite restaurant in Northern Indiana - well, really in southwest Michigan - in the town of New Buffalo.

I didn’t get to spend much money in Northern Indiana this trip.

On Friday morning, John said, “When we get done here, let’s go for a ride. Maybe to Amish Country”.

We stopped by Molly’s to pick up Mary, then we got Janie - Bobby and Paige’s youngest - and took off for Goshen, Indiana - in the Amish Country.

On the way, the girls and Tonya in the backseat, were jabbering all the way. Tonya had told them that we were going to a Restaurant, but that it was a secret. When one of their mothers called (Don’t remember which one), the girls said they had a secret, and were NOT going to tell. Lots of fun.

We got to Goshen, and John took us right to the South Side Restaurant there - a landmark, actually - that Jean had gone with us to over a year ago. We all had our meal - talking the whole time - then got back in the car for the return trip, another way.



Mary, Tonya and Janie in South Side Restaurant.

What a wonderful day!


Earlier picture of Benjamin, Isabelle (Bobby and Paige's oldest) and Priscilla.

Late that afternoon, I took one final trip to the Nursing Home - planning to arrive there during the evening meal. I hadn’t been able to see Jean’s former roommate before, and I knew I could at mealtime.

When I walked by the Dining Room, she waved to me. I was a little shocked, for she was now in a wheel chair. Before, she did a lot of walking around the Home. She’s only a little over 50, but suffers from MS, and is in declining health.

I went to the other dining room where Jean ate, and saw the mother of one of Jean’s table mates there with the others. She used to come at noon to see her mother.

I was glad to see her, and told her that her mother hadn’t recognized me. She shook her head, because she knew. A third “table mate” was there, and she said she thought I looked familiar, but she couldn’t place me. I mentioned that I was the husband of Jean, but I’m not sure that registered.

Finally on Friday, I visited the family of John and Tonya’s Orthodox priest, Father Bill Bass, knowing that I couldn’t see them after church Sunday, since I was going to Chicago. After MY church each Sunday, I visited theirs to fellowship in the basement.

They had just returned from Notre Dame, having taken their son, Billie there for a 4 year “full ride”, on a swimming scholarship.

On Saturday, we not only celebrated Molly’s 35th, but also Mary’s 4th, and Troy’s (?) Anyway, here’s their picture with their cake.




Wonderful vacation!

Confession and Warning

I had an interesting, and maybe even shocking development this past week, at least to me.

Totally unexpected.

After the Music On The Lawn “concert” on Sunday, I knew I had to take back the microphone, cord, and stand that I had borrowed from WEEC. I meant to do it on Monday, then Tuesday, but didn’t actually get around to it until Wednesday.

Shortly after breakfast seemed a good time to do it. I needed to go to the Church I’ve been attending also, to pay for an upcoming Seniors tour, with a group called “Golden Gaters”.

I guess I left my apartment at about 8:45 AM, since, after breakfast, I wanted to be sure it was suitable for the weekly “housekeeping” crew. Of course, I didn’t have to clean up, but I DID need to put a few things out of the way for the Cleaners.

When I was about 10 minutes from WEEC, I realized that I would probably arrive there while they were having their daily devotions at 9 AM. I thought I probably should have maybe gone to the Church first, so I wouldn’t interrupt the devotions.

But I didn’t.

I continued to WEEC, arriving shortly after they had started their Devotions.

Carrying the microphone and stand, I nodded to the staff in the Conference Room, while I walked down to Tracy’s office to return it.

I then came back near that room, and I was invited to join them in the rest of their devotions. They had just been mentioning some Prayer Requests they had, and distributing sheets with the requests on them to various ones there.

When I walked in, I was gladly greeted by all, and I listened to the remaining discussion about the requests.

All of them seemed interested in my presence, and Ruth Book - now Staff Announcer, but the Administrative Assistant when I was still there - asked me about some of the residents she knew at the Grand Court, and then asked me something about “devotions”, which I later discovered I had TOTALLY mis-understood.

I answered rather “nebulously”, I think.

We went to prayer then, and starting with me, each one of us prayed for the various requests before us - including for one of the programs aired on WEEC; one of the Staff Members; one of the Board Members; and one or more of the requests that had been called in.

During this time of prayer, I found myself “mulling over” what I thought Ruth had asked me, and felt obligated to explain more fully my present devotional practices.

I waited, of course, until the prayer time was over, then I asked them if it would be OK if I kept them a little longer, because I wanted to make a confession, along with a warning. All said OK.

I then explained that I needed to add to my answer to Ruth earlier, since I felt constrained to make a confession.

I indicated that for more that 45 years in the past, I had been reading or quoting a portion of the Bible every single day - without exception. But now, I found myself a little lax in that area - not really knowing why that was. Some place along the line, I had missed some days occasionally, and it distressed me. I wasn’t as faithful to that course as in the past.

In addition, I told them that my experience might be a warning to them, that in their coming advanced years (in which I certainly am now), they might find themselves in a similar predicament, and that they should not be “complacent” - as I apparently was - in this vital area of Bible reading and prayer.

Not that I don’t pray - or don’t read the Bible - but I have not been as faithful in these areas as I once was, to my shame!

The confession appeared to be received with understanding, and needed no comment from any of them.

I finally said, “Boy! I didn’t know I was going to say all of that!”

(Ruth indicated that this wasn’t her question at all! I had mis-understood! Too late now!)

But GOD knew, didn’t He?

Afterward, I felt no sorrow that I had made the confession and warning, and cheerfully left them for the Church.

Though not sorrowful even the next day that I had done so, it did “shake me up” a little. And caused some contemplation on my part.

I Cor. 10:12-13: “Wherefore let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall. There hath no temptation (or testing) taken you but such as is common to man; but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted (or tested) above that ye are able: but will WITH the temptation (or testing) also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.” (emphasis added.)

“ lest he fall”?

I don’t know that I FELL, but my soul is missing the spiritual food I could have received if I had continued the DAILY reading.

Lord have Mercy!

Music On The Lawn

I’ve mentioned before that we have several activities, and even entertainments here at the Grand Court.

One of them occurred on Grandparents Day, September 13.

One day in July, Timi Neff, our Lifestyles Program Director (or is it “Coordinator”), asked me if my son Jim could suggest a musical group to bring in. (I had told her about his singing with the Springfield Symphony.) She hadn’t been able to come up with a group that could come.

I called Jim, and he said he would think about it. Then, before long, he called me and said he would be glad to bring his guitar, and present some Folk, Country and popular music for the time.

I asked him to come by to meet with Timi. He did. They got together, and Timi asked him to participate.

Occasionally Jim and I would discuss this, including the fact that the Grand Court no longer had a “sound system”. He thought of his friend, Jim Lafferty, who not only had a sound system, but who was proficient at “guitar picking”. “He’s good!”, Jim said.

Jim mentioned the whole thing to Lafferty, and he agreed to come along and participate - and bring his amplifier.

The Thursday before the event, Jim and I went to the Laffertys (he has a wife Julie. They are “dinner” friends with Jim and Joyce.) to rehearse. When Jim L. played the guitar, it “blew me away”. He is awesome! Just like Roy Acuff.

In addition, Jim M. and I practiced a couple possible duets, and he played and sang some songs. He wanted to know if I would like to sing a solo, and if so, which one. I couldn’t come up with one, so we dropped it.

That night, I was listening to my iPod music before going to sleep. My iPod now has over 900 songs on it, with plenty of memory left. While listening, I came across some Neil Diamond selections. While listening to Neil sing “Secret Love”, I got the idea of trying to “mimic” his style, and maybe sing that song. I had listened to him before and thought I could ALMOST do it. In fact, I HAVE done it before - to myself.

I replayed it several times (maybe 15), and increasingly thought I would like to mimic his style, and sing the song on Sunday.

On Friday, I tried to find a CD that had the piano accompaniment of Neil’s version of the song, but to no avail. I decided to practice singing it “a cappella”.

During the day Friday, I called Tracy Figley at WEEC to see if I could borrow a microphone, stand and cord for Lafferty’s amplifier. Jim M. had misplaced his.

“Come out and get it”, Tracy said. I did.

I listened to Neil again Friday night, and practiced mimicking him.

Same thing through the day Saturday, and Saturday night.

The longer I listened, then sang along with him, the more I thought I could pull it off - comical as it might be.

I Listened some more on Sunday before leaving for Church.

“I’ll try it”, I told myself.

After Sunday lunch, I saw that the “lawn” had already been made ready, with maybe 30 chairs, and a long extension cord lying in the grass.

At around 1:30 (scheduled to start at 2:00), I took the microphone paraphernalia out to the lawn, and already some of the residents were beginning to fill the chairs.






Jim Lafferty arrived with his guitar and amplifier. Jim Maddex arrived with his guitar and equipment.

By starting time, quite a large crowd had gathered, and more came even after we started.

At 2:00 PM, Timi Neff, the Lifestyles Program Coordinator of The Grand Court went to the microphone, welcomed every one, and introduced “Jim Maddex, Mike Maddex and Jim Lafferty”. (I didn’t think she knew that I was planning to participate.)


Jim L., Mike M. and Jim M.

Jim M. then went to the microphone and announced that he was going to do several Folk Type songs, similar to the styles of “Peter, Paul and Mary”; “Everly Brothers”; “Simon and Garfukle”, etc.



After singing two or three songs, he introduced me, and he and I sang the duet, “500 Miles”, an old PPM favorite.



Following that, he introduced Jim Lafferty and his steel guitar, and he played two or three arrangements similar to Roy Acuff.



Jim then sang a couple more Folk Tunes, then he and I sang the Gospel Song, “Day by Day”, followed again by Jim Lafferty on his guitar.

I had not told either of the Jims about my plans for the Neil Diamond “sound alike” solo, until this time when I whispered to Jim that I had an a cappella love song to do whenever it suited him.

He said OK.

There were two or three more selections by both of the “Jims”, then he told me to just go to the microphone and “perform”.

I introduced the song by mentioning Neil Diamond, asking how many knew of him, and if they would recognize his style. Several hands went up.



I did my Neil Diamond impersonation with “Secret Love”.

Though the song got some laughs and applause (they applauded every selection), I wasn’t very pleased with my “mimicry”. Too late now, though I am unlikely to do it again - except for my personal “amusement”.

Timi took 43 pictures of the event - including all the residents who attended, along with some visitors from next door. I shared some of them with the “boys”.



On Monday, several residents told me of their enjoyment of the occasion, and I passed along these remarks to Jim and Jim.




The “Jim, Mike and Jim Show” was fun for us, and I appreciate the music provided by the “Jims”. Timi did too, and she sent each of us a nice "Thank You" note.

Lost Socks

This is a desperation plea!

I’ve been “batching it” now for over 6 months, and I need help!

When I moved in to The Grand Court the end of February, I began doing my own laundry. Never had to do that before, at least, without outside help. Jean always advised on that, even when we were here together 2005-2007 and I washed the clothes. She was still in charge of the folding and sorting of the clothing - especially the socks.

Every day now, I find myself searching for “matching socks”.

When I do the laundry every Saturday morning, I fold and sort the clothes as well as I can - including the socks - after washing and drying.

Increasingly, it seems to me, I’m finding it difficult to always match all the socks together. So, I just put them in the socks drawer, assuming the “match” will show up later, stuck to some other piece of clothing.

Why is that? (to loosely quote Andy Rooney on 60 Minutes.)

This morning, I decided to look into this phenomenon, and try to “get a handle” on the problem.

So, I laid out ALL the socks in my sock drawer on the bed. As I picked up each one, I tried to find another one to match that one. Not easy!

Now that I have them all laid out, I find that I have 4 pairs matched, and folded together.

But, NOW I’ve got 14 socks side by side on my bed, and NOT ONE of them matches another one!



What’s going on?

Why don’t any of these socks match another one? They used to match.

Have I lost 14 socks in the Washing Machine or Dryer?

When I moved in here from John and Tonya’s, I had a good number of sock PAIRS. They all matched. Tonya saw to that.

What happened?

I didn’t just now get concerned about this. For several weeks I’ve been wondering why I have such a hard time finding matching ones.

Earlier this morning, I found a couple of them that looked a bit alike, same markings and size, but when I got them closer to the light, they were different colors.

One was black, and the other brown!

Do they change color during the laundry?

Surely, I’m not the only one who has been struck by the “Sock Bandit”.

Unless I get help shortly, I’m going to start wearing “almost matched” socks. I’m certainly not going to go out and buy a bunch of new socks, for heaven’s sake.

Maybe I could just “hang up” several of these single socks in the Laundry Room, and see if someone else has a match for them.

Did I mention before that another problem I had with the laundry was that I could NEVER fold the “fitted sheets” properly? For weeks I tried to fold them, but just had to put them in the drawer sloppily folded.

I solved that problem some time back. I just wash the folded sheet, and when it’s dry, I put it back on the bed. Eureka!

I suppose it will eventually wear out, but when it does, I still have the other spare I can wash and replace.

No good for socks, though.

Where are my lost socks?!

Can anyone help me?

I suppose I could search the “Wanted” items in the Newspaper, and see if anyone else has a sock problem. Maybe we could get together and have a “sock swap”.

Can you tell that I’m desperate?

Signed: “Lost Sock Victim”

85 At Grand Court

As I sit here at the Computer, thinking about this subject, I’m sure that it will be a “short” posting - only a couple pages, as opposed to the 5, 6 or even 7 pages I generally write.

Actually (do you notice I use that word a lot?), they wouldn’t be so long if I used a more normal type size - like 10 or 12 point. For clarity on the computer screen, I use 14 point, Bold. When “pasted” to the Blog though, the type is normal size.

So, I keep telling myself, “I may not be blabbing as much as it seems”.

Oh yeah?

Well, I digress AGAIN, just after I start on a subject. That’s “free association” writing for you.

Back to the subject.

At the Grand Court, when a resident has a birthday, the Staff gets together at the noon meal - bringing balloons and banging drums - and then they sing a “modified” version of Happy Birthday. (Like - “Who has a birthday? Mary has a birthday! Who has a birthday? Mary has a birthday!”, etc.) The whole dining room crowd joins in, and claps for the celebratee.

I’ve known about that for over three years, since they did that when Jean and I were here in 2005-2007.

Early in May this year, they celebrated the birthday of a resident, and while I was laughing at that “spectacle”, Timi Neff said, “Don’t worry, Mike! Your time is coming!”

“Challenge me, will she? You just wait, Sister!”, I said to myself.

That evening, while listening to the Boston Pops Orchestra before going to sleep, I started “planning my revenge”. I had about 3 weeks, actually. As I did so, I began laughing to myself.

(I guess I DO laugh at my own jokes.)

On May 20, 2009, I turned 85 years of age.

At about 12:15 that day, we began hearing the drum coming from the Activity Room. I didn’t need to look back down the hall, for I KNEW what was happening.

There were about 50 residents in the room.

The “entourage” finally reached the back of the Dining Room where I sit, and all 6 or 7 of them began their chant. I turned around, smiling and nodding as they sang on.

As usual, at the end, they gradually started to retreat, when I stood, held up my hands, and said, loudly,

“Just a minute! Thank you for the song. But, don’t go yet.”

They turned around, rather shocked - and stayed.

“You know“, I said, “I turned 85 early this morning, and I’ve learned that when one turns 85, there are certain privileges one gets - not responsibilities, mind you, but privileges”

The staff turned around, stunned that a birthday celebratee would have the gall to challenge them - and have something to say. Never happened before. I could just imagine some of the staff whispering to each other - “What privileges? What’s he talkin’ about?”

I went on, “That being the case, I want to exercise that ‘privilege’, and relate to you a true story.

“About 75 years ago, when I was merely 10 years old, I attended a summer Church camp in southern Ohio. In those days, camps like this one had NO electricity; NO ball diamond; NO basketball court; NO Ping Pong tables; NOR other normal accoutrements. We just had tents, campfires, Bibles and Counselors.

“This year, I remember, there was a Gospel Male Quartet that visited our camp, and they sang at the evening service, by the campfire.

“ Their names were: Eeny, Meeny, Mynie and Moe. They called themselves ‘The Fish Quartet’. And they sang First Tuna, Second Tuna, Barracuda, and Bass (pronounced like the fish).

“After the service, dusk had settled over the camp, and in the “no lights” tents, only a small candle was placed on a picnic table in the tents for light.”

(Actually the story was merely a verisimilitude.)*

OOOOOhhhhh!

(I’ve wanted to use that word for WEEKS - after I read it in a book!)

I won’t burden you with the story, especially since it was what is normally called “a sight gag”. You have to SEE it to GET it.

When the punch line was given, applause and laughter broke out, and I gave a “gracious” bow.

Just then, our son Jim - who has over a hundred pounds on me - came walking down the aisle toward me, saying loudly,

“Ok Dad! It’s time to go back to the Asylum, now!”

He came to me, grabbed my by the collar, and began dragging me out of the Dining Room.

As he did that, I began yelling, loudly, “I don’t want to go back to the Asylum! I don’t want to go back to the Asylum! I want to stay at the Grand Court Asylum! Some of my best friends are inmates here!”, over and over.

That got a lot more applause and laughter than the story I told. Certainly NOT an anti-climax.

Aren’t I a devil?

* ver·i·si·mil·i·tude

ver·i·si·mil·i·tude [vèrrə si míllə td]
(plural ver·i·si·mil·i·tudes)
n (formal)
1. appearance of being true: the appearance of being true or real
2. something that only seems true: something that only appears to be true or real, e.g. a statement that is not supported by evidence

[Early 17th century. < Latin verisimilitudo

Encarta ® World English Dictionary © & (P) 1998-2005 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.

Ruth's Nine Kids

Maybe this title is rather crude. If it’s still there, it means that neither Ruth, nor any of her family objects to it.

The fact is, Jean’s sister Ruth, now at age 92, has NINE living children. If you would want something to brag about, how about birthing nine “kids” that are STILL alive - after over 50 years!

I don’t suppose she is the only one who has experienced this, but I’d wager you wouldn’t find any family members MORE devoted to their mother, than “Ruth’s Nine Kids”!

I have two events that demonstrate that.

When Ruth turned 90 in 2007, ALL of her “kids” got together - from all over, as we say - to help her celebrate. I’m going by memory here, but I THINK I can name the locations of them:

Phyllis, in Urbana OH
Gene in Myrtle Beach SC
Bill in Fairborn OH
Sandy in Bainbridge OH
Dick in Marco Island FL
Joyce in Urbana OH
Bob in Huntingtown MD
Tom in Waller TX
Ed in Urbana OH

(I DID get some help on the towns)

I’d better not tell you the age range (if I could come up with it myself), but Ruth hasn’t been of “child bearing age” for over 50 years.

At any rate, here’s a picture of all of them in 1954.



I can’t tell you who initiated this “Age 90 party”, but it appears that several got together to start it.

The ones I’ve talked to seem to point to Sandy, and Dick’s wife, Joyce as the “organizers”. Talking to some of them, it appears that some one of them called another one; he/she called another; and, unbeknownst to Ruth, one by one, they said they could come. And "e-mails" helped a great deal.

Sandy said, “I don’t know, we just got to talking about Mom’s birthday, and wondered if Tom and Colleen could come, and others. I always come up here on Mom’s birthday, and it just seems like we contacted others, and one by one, they were all available.”

Ruth: “Dick and Joyce were here, and they were going to take me out to eat. She was going off to see a girl friend or something, and Dick was keeping me upstairs. (She lived on the third floor then.) We had to wait on Joyce to go out to eat, and she was actually downstairs with the rest of the family.”

Sandy: “Yeah…we were down there decorating the party room.”

Ruth: “Joyce called on her cell phone and said we should meet her downstairs, so she wouldn’t come up. When we got down there, I had to stop and get a drink at the fountain, and I wondered why that dining room door was shut. I just kinda ’moseyed’ over that way, and there was all the family!”

SURPRISE! SURPRISE!

Sandy: “Every time I come up, I try to see if anyone else can come at the same time. Some of the family members have e-mail addresses, and they contacted each one that way.”

Ruth: “I remember that Joyce got a lot of Kentucky Fried Chicken for all of us.”

Sandy: “Sure. We couldn’t actually ‘fix food’, especially those traveling, and coming in.”

They all brought something - probably purchased here.

Some of the family stayed with friends in Urbana; some in a Motel in Urbana; some more in a Motel in Columbus; and of course, three of them live in Urbana.

I thought maybe they had 24 or 25 people were there.

Sandy: “Oh, there were a lot more than that. There were all the children and grandchildren.”

My memory of the conversation we had is that Sandy thought there were maybe 80 0r 90 people here.

Then, this year, the “whole gang” got together again - by accident.

Tom and Colleen, from Waller TX, called to say that they were coming to visit their mother. They wondered if anyone else could come.

Nobody remembers who called whom, but one by one, they ALL arranged to come. The e-mails were “flying”. They arrived at different times, with Tom and Colleen staying for a week. Others came through the week, and some even only on the week-end.

One by one, they decided that, “Sure. We could be there.” And they came.

On Saturday, they were ALL here, and here’s a picture of the same “kids” who came again this year, along with Ruth right down in front.



Something else I learned while talking with Ruth, Sandy and their Aunt Doris, is that the third week-end in October each year, several of the “kids” gather at Sandy’s house at Bainbridge for the week-end. There’s an annual fall “festival” of some sort there, and they see some of that, but mostly stay at Sandy’s to “gab”. Sandy said they’ve been doing that for maybe 20 years.

She said to me: “Uncle Myron, why don’t you come down this year?”

“Well, I’ll put it on my BlackBerry calendar, and see what develops.”

What a family!!

Annie

Back in June, I heard on WEEC, an announcement that in August, WFCJ and WEEC would be jointly sponsoring an evening at La Comedia Dinner Theater in Springboro. Featured was to be the acclaimed Broadway Play, “ANNIE”. If we bought our tickets at one of the stations, they would benefit some from the sales.

I’d never seen “ANNIE” - either on the stage, movie, or TV - but I knew of its allure, for children AND adults.

Right away I thought of Jodi and her 4 year old son, Rylan.

“I’ll bet they would enjoy that”, I said to myself. (I “say to myself” quite a lot, lately. I imagine you‘ve noticed.)

On July 1, I had invited Bill Pearce - long time Christian Artist and Radio Personality now retired - to be with us at WEEC, for a time of fellowship. Bill lives in our area. We had a nice afternoon of fellowship and memories of his Christian Journey, and of the 11 years we had together at the Moody Bible Institute - some 50 years ago.

Here’s a photo of Bill, Tracy Figley, Rene Panosian (Administrator of Bill’s Assisted Living facility), and me taken that day.



When I arrived at the station, I asked Cathy Ackley - the Administrative Assistant at WEEC - about the tickets for “ANNIE”, and the procedure to follow. It turns out that WFCJ held reservations for the “left half” of the Theater, and WEEC the right.

I had already found out that Jodi and Rylan would be available for the date of the presentation, so I looked at the seating chart, and picked out the table on the right side of the auditorium that Jean, Kelly and I had some 15 or 20 years ago when we saw “Hello Dolly”. There were only 3 seats at that table, so it seemed “just right” for us.

I told Cathy that we wanted that table, so she reserved it for us. The tickets were $37 apiece, and I told Cathy that I would give her a check at the proper time. I went into the studio where we were to receive Bill.

Tracy came in and told me that, since I was a Board Member Emeritus of WEEC, MY ticket would be provided by WEEC - as for all Board Members - since they had been given a number of complimentary tickets. I thanked Tracy, and gave Cathy a check for the other two seats.

The date for the Show arrived, and the three of us drove to Springboro and the Dinner Theater.

We arrived at the proper time for seating, and were taken to the designated table right away.



Shortly, we were brought our drinks and salad, and we ate. I could hardly contain myself until we would be ushered down to the stage where the traditional buffet was, so I could get - and taste - their famed “Sweet Potato Souffle” again.

While waiting our turn for the buffet, I saw quite a few people I had known in past years at WEEC - including several present and former staff members; quite a few long time listeners; as well as Clair and Margy Miller - friends of many years at WFCJ.

I proceeded to follow my long time tradition of “table hopping”, that I’ve been so famous for - both at WEEC, and at the National Religious Broadcasters Convention in Washington DC for 23 years. (“What are you running for, Mike”, they’d say) It’s what long time friend Rev. Dennis Moritz calls, “Working the Room”.

I hadn’t “lost the touch”.

At the proper time, and after every one had “sated” their appetites, the buffet was rolled away, and the play was introduced.

By any stretch of the definition, this had to be called a “Family Musical’”, including a cast of 8 or 9 pre-teen children. The voices of ALL the participants - especially, in my opinion, the voice for “Daddy Warbucks” - were outstanding. The 11 year old girl who played “Annie” was remarkable - both in singing, and in acting. The sound system was so good, that we heard every word.

Four year old Rylan was “enthralled”.

“And a good time was had by all”, as I read some place.

Driving home, Rylan fell asleep right away. We got home after 11 PM.

What a wonderful evening!

Hawaiian Luau

At the Grand Court (where I am a resident), there is an annual “Hawaiian Luau” day.

This year, I’m told, it was on a Saturday, to make it easier for families of residents to come.

Timi Neff, our Lifestyles Program Director, told me that it’s done every year for the enjoyment of the residents and their families, and to “celebrate Hawaii”. Reservations for family were required, and those of us who had families coming, got a special “reserved” table. Here’s my table. There were 5 of us, but we were not seated when I took this picture.



(ALL of these pictures can be "enlarged" if you "double-click" on one of them. And, they can be copied with a "right click".)

The Lobby and Dining Rooms were all decorated, and many residents and staff arrived with “Hawaiian dress”. Notice my “Hawaiian shirt”, that’s about 45 sizes too large for me. I didn’t have one, but Judy Roberts suggested I go to “Goodwill”, and buy one. I did, and took the first one I found.

Pictured with me is our son, Jim; Granddaughter Jodi, her son Rylan, and her friend Daniel Kirkwood.



Part of the decorations were two tables, on which were the special “treats”, Hawaiian style.





Pam Trinkle, our Dining Services Director (I think of Dietitian, and Kitchen and Dining Room Boss), gave me the following menu:

Sweet and Sour Chicken
Spanish White Rice
Pulled Pork
Sweet Potato Casserole
Vegetable Medley consisting of:
Broccoli, Cauliflower, Carrots, Zucchini and Red Peppers
Fruit Kabob
Cheese Tray
Vegetable Tray
Tiki Bar
White Chocolate Macadamia Nut Cookies
Tropical Banana and Pineapple Sundae

Here is how some of the staff were dressed:













And, some of the residents:







There was a nice crowd of family guests, and the Dining Room and hallways were filled.

I have mentioned before, I believe, that there are LOADS of activities provided here, and I can’t possibly participate in all of them. Well, I could, I guess, if I didn’t read 3 or more books a week; piddle with this computer; post on this blog; go to church and Bible Class; read the Bible; pray; visit with my family here, visit family in Indiana, Chicago and Florida, etc.

I am a VERY satisfied customer here at The Grand Court, and I highly recommend this place for folks who are by themselves, and maybe need a little assistance in their daily lives. Assisted Living is provided, when needed, though I am presently among those who are in Independent Living - preparing for possible future Assisted status, if needed, I suppose. Even now, if emergencies occur, I will be cared for. And, I have an Emergency Pendant around my neck 24 hours a day; an Emergency Call Button beside my bed, and one in the shower.

Praise the Lord!

Thrashin' Machine

If you’re younger than 75, you might not know what is a “Thrashin’ Machine”.

Of course, that’s not the correct name. It was a

thresh·ing ma·chine

(plural thresh·ing ma·chines)
n
farm machine for threshing plants: a static power-driven agricultural machine formerly used to beat or rub harvested plants in order to separate the seeds from the rest of the plant

Encarta ® World English Dictionary © & (P) 1998-2005 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.

Got it?

We just “freely” pronounced it.

Here’s how it worked - at least in the 20’s and 30’s:

A farmer would plant his wheat crop in the spring (sometimes in the fall, providing “winter wheat”), then, in late June, when the wheat was properly ripe, he would hook up his team of horses to his “binder”



and go around the field, mowing the wheat as you would mow your yard.

Except, rather than just cutting it, the “binder” gathers the wheat stems onto the conveyor belt (assisted by 5 or 6 rotating “paddles”),



conveying the wheat into the binder, which automatically wraps a portion of it with binder twine, providing a mangeable “sheaf” of wheat, which is then dropped to the ground.

Walking somewhat behind the binder was a helper - maybe the farmer’s son or other family member - who picked up maybe 8 or 10 “sheafs”, stacking them upright on the ground, in a circle, leaning them against each other. Finally, one more sheaf was laid flat on the top, ostensibly to ward off rain from the sheafs.

This was then called a “shock” of wheat.




Not every farmer had the means to get the grain out of the sheafs, and into a bin for storage. The answer to that was that one of his neighbors had a “thrashin’ machine”, and at harvest time, several of the farmer’s neighbors joined together with him to procure the grain.



On a certain schedule, the man who owned the “Threshing Machine”, moved from farm to farm, setting up his machine, along with a “steam engine” tractor to pull it.



The “thresher”, called a “separator” by the farmers, was connected to the steam engine tractor, by means of a long closed loop belt, probably 6 or 8 inches wide.

The distance between the engine and the separator was probably twenty feet or so, spanned by that belt. The engine turned a large fly wheel that turned the belt, and in turn the separator. The belt was always turned a half turn - ostensibly to help keep the belt ON the fly wheel and separator wheel.

Once the belt was positioned over the two wheels, the engine was “backed up” enough to provide tension on the belt, thus providing the friction needed to get the separator started.

Now, the REAL key to the whole operation was the assistance of several of the farmer’s neighbors, who brought horse-drawn flat wagons and pitch forks to load up the sheafs, and bring them to the separator. When available, there were other farmers or helpers, to help load the wagons with the sheafs. Each farmer knew that after he had helped with THIS farmer’s crop, he would get the same help when his turn came.

How they decided who was next was beyond me.

Now, before we discuss the operation of the Separator, we need to discuss how the wheat got TO it.

In the wheat field, some other farmers (and/or their sons) would stand ready with pitch forks, alongside the shocks of wheat.

When one of the wagons came into the field, the “wagon farmer’ moved his wagon right alongside the several shocks, so the farmers in the field could use their pitch forks to put each sheaf on the wagon. The wagon operator stood on the wagon, and properly aligned the sheafs to they would stay in place, and would provide room for as many sheafs as possible. The “stocks” of the sheafs were set outside, and on either side of the wagon, with the “head” facing inside. This would lean the load toward the center, thus permitting more wheat to be loaded, without falling off.

So, who drove the horses while the wagon farmer was loading?

Many times, it was the man’s wife, or maybe a son, but quite frequently, the farmer’s horses didn’t need a “driver”. The farmer had them trained so he could say, “Giddyup”, and they would move ahead. When the wagon reached the next shock of wheat, the farmer would say, “Whoa”, and the horses would stop.

I’ve often thought, sometimes that’s kinda what God would want us to do - GO when He says “Giddyup”, and stop when He says “Whoa”. The striking thing to me is, that many times the horses seemed to have more sense that we sometimes do. They didn’t question the farmer when he spoke. At times, we don’t want to “giddy up”, nor even “whoa” - even if God is the One speaking.

I wonder - Is this where we get the expression “Horse sense”? Probably.

As usual, I digress.

The first thing you knew, one of the “wheat wagons” was loaded with sheafs of wheat, and the farmer then headed for the separator.

There was an extension on the front of the separator, that had a continuous flat bed belt, constantly running into the machine.

The wagon farmer then “pulled” his wagon up next to the separator, and began unloading the sheafs, one at a time, onto that belt - heads first.



When one wagon was unloaded, there was always another ready to move in to “feed” the separator - so there was no “down time” for the operation.

I have not the slightest idea what went on inside that machine, but there were two results:

1. The thresher separated the grains from the stems, and dropped them into a bin.

2. The “straw” - the actual stem of the wheat - was then “blown” through a stove-pipe-like thing, next to the machine, gradually building a “Straw Stack” on the ground. As the stack gradually grew in size, the operator lifte the pipe to accommodate the size of the stack.



This operation went along, until all the wheat shocks had been broken down, and the sheafs brought to the “thresher” (notice how I use the terms interchangeably?), to be “separated”.

Here’s a threshing operation from the late 1880’s to early 1900’s.



Though I lived in the thriving metropolis of Mechanicsburg (pop. 1,800), I never failed to go to Uncle Harry and Aunt Almeda’s farm for “Thrashin’.

Why?

Well, it was a break from the hectic city life in the ‘Burg; was an interesting pastime; and, of course, there was the “Thrashin’ Dinner”!

When the dinner was ready, the Steam Engine operator sounded his steam whistle, and ALL HANDS came in to Dinner.

You talk about a feast!

Generally, a long table was set up in the dining or living rooms, and when there was no more room for the workers, some sat outside to eat. ALWAYS enough food for everyone.

The horses ate and drank then, also. There was always a water pump, driven by a Wind Mill, that filled a trough for the horses to drink.



Of course, over the course of a day of putting sheafs of wheat into the machine, and the grain going in a bin, it eventaully filled up.

That’s where truckers, like Bud Perry came in. They had fixed their trucks to hold a large load of grain, to take to the local “elevator”. Or, as I related in “Truck Driving” on this blog, sometimes the farmer wanted the grain in his “granary” on the farm.

In “Truck Driving” also, I mentioned that Bud and I always argued about whether it was a “grainery” , or a “granary”. I said the latter.

Last month, on a Sunday afternoon in Mechanicsburg, I visited Bud in his home, and he mentioned this, and then admitted that “granary” was right. He’s already in his nineties, but “sharp as a tack”.

When all the sheaves of wheat on that farm had been delivered to the separator, and all the grain loaded on to trucks, the present task was finished.

The farmer whose grain had been provided, hitched up his team of horses to his flat wagon, and he and his sons moved on to the NEXT farm, to help HIS neighbors.

These were fascinating experiences for a boy of 10 or 12, like me.

But, here’s what’s keeping the boys from this good time.




It’s the modern day Combine.

It cuts the wheat (no sheafs or shocks); separates the grain from the straw; drops the straw on the ground to be picked up later and baled; then deposits the grain into the Combine’s hopper.

The only thing still needed from the “olden days”, is the Truck Driver to take the grain to the “granary”, or the Grain Elevator in town.

Better for the adults, no doubt. But, worse for the children. Sad, but…..

C’est la vie!