Aging and New Friends

Today is the last day of June 2016, a month of tremendous social engagement for yours truly. I visited with my urologist, gastroenterologist, dermatologists, podiatrist, dentist, audiologist, general surgeon (gall bladder) and two lab technicians.

 If that's not enough medical-health dances, my wife and I met with other lay-people and medical personnel serving on a Springfield Clinic patients' advisory board. This old  'kisser' of mine pops up so often at that Clinic the folks from nurses, receptionists to valet parking personnel greet me on a first name basis.

Yesterday, I met with yet a new medical facilitator. 'Jill' is my new wellness-coordinator. I perceive Jill as my medical-records-confidant who gives me a 'hoorah' or wags her finger telling this old fart that I should see-Doctor So & So. Jill is my medical-DNA traffic cop. She joins eight (8) others on my medical team dance card. If I didn't have these medical appointments, my social outings would be reduced to granddaughters' dance recitals, hospital visitations with friends or funerals of used-to-be-friends.

Listen, I'm not complaining. These aforementioned medical folks are God sends. We live in the best of times regarding health care attention. I thank God every night for doctors and medical folks and pray HIS blessings upon them. That said, I'm still practical. I do 99% the grocery shopping for my wife and I. A few years ago, I stopped buying in bulk. You see, I wish for things to come out even, like bread & gravy.

Stranger in The Moment

When you are only 'slightly' above average intelligence you obviously tend to learn at a slower pace. Yes, I would be a member of that group...a slow learner. I'm okay with it...eventually, I do learn.
An example of this would be realizing my parenting concepts are outdated.

Recently, I was speaking with one of my adult children about a grandchild entering the freshmen college year. My grandson college student to be has secured housing a little distance from the main campus.  Nevertheless, the dorm location is very desirable. Anyway, my daughter was explaining that her son did not wish to have any 8:00AM classes scheduled. My first thought was: When the hell did a freshman get a say in college class scheduling? Like an eager fool rushing to seize a parenting point, I said, "This is a wonderful opportunity to explain to my grandson the realities of the real world...how life works...how we don't always have things our way." I was about to continue my lecturing with more 1950's logic when I noticed the extremely puzzling look on my daughter's face.
Suddenly, I realized that the very same cautionary notations that I had shared with her 32 years ago were now a foreign language. I stopped my babbling and she spoke. "He probably should not have an
8 o'clock class because it's kinda far to walk to class on cold winter mornings and he'd be tempted to cut those 8 o'clocks. She continued, "I did insist that he take more than 12 hours a semester." Now, please understand, this is the same daughter that graduated from her college in 3 1/2 years. Fair to say her learning curve has diminished over time.

This daughter adored my father...her Papaw. This was the guy that told his son (who had an athletic scholarship) to "Have a job in four years" when that son started his freshmen year. My last two semesters, I carried 18 hours to meet that edict.

Later, I mentioned to my wife that I get frustrated because I feel I don't make any sense with my children anymore. She said, "I hate to bust your bubble but your logic has not made sense to a lot of people for some time now."

That evening, I thought I'd go to the nearby shopping mall and forget my frustrations. I was browsing the Von Maur's men's department and noticed some colorful T-shirts. I picked one up and read the material make up. I like those 50/50 blends. Then I noticed the price tag...When the hell did T-shirt prices go to $28.95.

Family Love...Spiritually Anchored

It was sad, even borderline depressing. I'm talking about the 67th Annual Roustio Family Reunion. Don't digest that comment incorrectly. I enjoyed visiting with all my kin folks and love ones present but the reality was...not many were present. Once upon a time, I remember upwards of a hundred-fifty-folks sharing a day that began at 10AM and ended around six or seven early evening.
I recall many reunions filled with loud laughter, competitive games, anxious bingo calls, white elephant auctions and endless eats. This past Sunday, I deliberately did not head count for fear the number was short of fifty folks.

In attempts to come to grips with my despondency, I meandered outside the gathering hall as family inside began filling plates. I wandered about the outdoor pavilion where children once assembled to play toss games with eggs and water-filled balloons and stumbled around in three-legged-sack races. I found myself walking the vacant baseball field where as a young boy, I relished the family softball competition against fathers and uncles. I could envision faces running about and cat-calls only family could utter. Many of those voices are silenced as year's claim the numbers.

I gathered myself and surpressed my feelings as I considered that much of my emotion was simply driven by the thoughts of an aging man who tussles with the longing for yesteryear while yet blessed with his realities in today.

The sixty-seventh Roustio Family Reunion was tucked away and the Shiloh, Illinois Klucker Hall left clean and empty before the four o'clock hour. As I walked to the parking lot side by side with my brother, Tom, four years my junior, I thought of his toughness. He recently celebrated a one year anniversary with an artificial heart pump implant. Fourteen pounds of batteries worn in a fishing-type jacket facilitate his every breath. We paused for a couple of photos taken by family and then we embraced...we embraced for several moments. We whispered some private thoughts as I felt some trembling of our bodies.

I know only this...God willing there are two fellas committed to the 68th Roustio Family Reunion.
Why? Our Dad expects us to be there...it's a 'Family thing,' a respect thing and that's THAT!

There but by the grace of God...

I have watched television coverage of the West Virginia floods and I am shocked to see and imagine the devastation those folks are facing. The loss of lives and overwhelming property damage is heartbreaking.

Every time our countrymen face these disasters, I have this urge to seek out one of those pompous asses who are often times preaching the evils of 'big government' and how it has ruined American lives and ask them what role our government has in the moment. It's the same old same old...when your street has potholes you want government to fix the problem, however fixing the other guys' potholes creates too much government and remember what Ronnie Reagan said, "Government is not the solution to the problem, government is the problem." The man was a 'B' actor and 'B' President.

Matter of fact...we are ALL Democrats when WE NEED the handout.
If you have trouble spelling disingenuous then insert the word 'phoney.'

"...or get off the pot."

Holy crap, I cannot believe all the theoretical gibberish-jabber being bantered about on the heels of Great Britain's vote to 'leave' the European Union. Every news network parades a bevy of so-called experts who offer every imaginable fallout scenario from global financial collapse to the start of the rapture. The reference to the second coming of Christ was advanced by the genuine screw ball, Pastor John Hagee.

The Brits are now circulating a 'do-over' petition. They already have three million signatures pleading to have a second referendum. Don't you just 'feel' for them? It's like purchasing that expensive piece of clothing only to discover it doesn't fit. You plan to exchange the item but you can't find the receipt.

My wife is even upset over all these uncertainties in the United Kingdom. I had to assure her that our American television networks will continue to cover the Royal Family thus enabling fantasy-thirsting colony folks to follow the fairytale life of William, Kate, little George, 'Chuckie' and momma Lizzie.

Educate Yourself, Please!

It is interesting to note that the Nation, which snickers at us for miss use of the English language appears to be just as ignorant as we. That's right, I'm talkin 'bout Great Britian and the good old U. S. of A. Why do I speak such mean spirited words? Let me explain. Yesterday, the Brits voted to leave the European Union. On the heels of this decision the American stock markets witnessed the Dow Jones closing down some 600 points while the British 'pound' was at its lowest in thirty-one years.

Pay attention now to this: Today in Great Britian, Google searches exploded asking the question...'What is the Europe Union? This undeniably suggest that Brit voters got all ginned up to vote for leaving the European Union and today, as those voters began to see crap hitting the fan, they are 'googling' the very thing they voted against to find out what the hell it's all about. Sounds American to me! Something else is very American in this vote...scare tactics were used to gin up the voter against the EU and promises that were advertised to motivate voters to vote to 'leave.' Those promises have already seen advocates back pedaling, i.e. Money going to health care by leaving the EU.

Obviously, people around the world are frustrated with market globalization and likely with good reason. However, be careful what you wish for and 'vote' for.  Great Britian voted to leave the European Union for financial independence and control of immigration, however the Brits must now deal with the reality that 'sharing' of terrorist information has 'the baby thrown out with the bath water.' They will no longer have that protection afforded through the European Union.

Final notation: Grandpa E. E. Bennett was a carpenter by trade. He told me many times..."Measure twice and cut once." I would suggest something similar to the American voters before this November... 'Google first, vote second.'

Possibility?

I read in yesterday's newspaper that the Illinois High School Association, which governs Illinois high school sports has developed a rather complex formula to determine when the weather conditions are 'too hot/ humid' to continue a sport competition. Obviously this would only be a concern in the late spring or early fall when temperature can be rather uncomfortable. I would not debate the wisdom of this administrative decision. Certainly. I would line up with those who are concerned with the health and safety of athletic participants.

I would wonder, however about the life-style changes that may have impacted our abilities to withstand these oppressive heat related conditions. Hear me out. My generation of youth participants rarely had air conditioned homes. I recall mom making sleeping pallets near the screen door on those hot East St. Louis nights. Of course, we seldom locked our doors in 1951. I also remember one of our rooms had a window fan. Back in the day most neighbor's sat outside during summer months in order to catch a cool late night breeze before retiring. The neighborhood kids played street games on hot summer nights until we heard the 9:00 PM whistle, which was our cue to get our tails home.

Actually, Kids from that era played outside all day and sweating seemed to be a physiological mechanism to combat heat. From 1950 until 1953, I recall that my youth little league baseball uniforms were wool...that's correct...WOOL. Wow, that wool really caused itching on those parched summer fields' of dreams with an unrelenting burning sun and 90+ temperatures. One thing that helped combat the wool uniforms was a t-shirt and cotton light weight pajama bottoms worn under the baseball suit.

Do you think there was a possibility that the living conditions in those years produced better heat-resistant-bodies than we find with youngsters today?