In a couple of months, Good Lord willing, I'll turn 80-years old. On that February 18th day somebody will ask, "Do you feel eighty?" I'll answer, "No," because I don't know what eighty is supposed to 'feel' like. Actually, most days I don't feel any different than than the day before but then again, I can't do today that which I did twenty years ago without not 'feeling' so good the next day!
I am aware of aging for sure. Just a week or so ago, I was going through some personal papers and came across a life insurance policy that I purchased back in 1961. I remember the insurance agent back then telling me that if I purchased that life insurance policy, I was investing in the future. I've come to realize that someone will 'collect' on that policy when I have NO future.
I do have visual evidence telling me that I am getting long in the tooth. One such telltale sign is a receding hairline or shall we be more blunt...baldness. Without debate, I note I am quickly thinning on top of the dome. At my last medical appointment, I asked my doctor if there was anything I can do for baldness and he firmly answered, "Yes, work on your sense of humor." That's another thing...as I get older, I prefer my doctors lying to me.
Hey, I'm blessed to be getting older. I'm looking forward to number '80.' Why if I was a bottle of wine, I'd be worth a fortune.
On this final day of 2018, I wish you all a wonderful, healthy and Happy New Year as you grow older. Embrace your blessings.
(Touch)
Old? Not Yet.
Monday, December 31, 2018
Sunday, December 30, 2018
Hooked Up With Alexa
Another Christmas in the books. A wonderful gathering of 30-family members for a long Christmas Day feast and fun. Four days later, the tree is down and yard decorations are tucked away as hopeful hearts turn attention to welcoming a New Year.
I had three clothing items to return but discovered I had to accept gift cards while the store awaits a 'new' stocking of goods. In the meantime, I find myself enjoying one of those whatchamacallits I seem to get each Christmas. When I first unwrapped the gift, I noticed the 'giver' was excited, which in turn elevated my anticipation. Once I saw the black cylinder shaped object, I felt as I often feel when seeing a new electronic gadget for the first time, which is Dumb, very Dumb.' One of my grandkids yelled, "It's an Alexa." Another voice added, "Oh, Boompa got an Amazon-player...one of those Amazon Ecohs." Suddenly, I'm feeling even 'Dumber,' what's an Amazon 'Alexa' Echo???
Soon people are shouting all the things this mysterious thing is going to do for my enjoyment. It's going to tell me time and weather. Play every type of music by any artist I request. My Amazon Echo tells me many other things, i.e. Rose Bowl odds, recipes, word spellings, trivia answers and offers reminders and stories. I just say, "Alexa, set an alarm for 7AM" and bingo, my alarm is set. Of course, my new gadget comes with tech-directions.This means, I gotta engage Amazon online, remember(for future harassment one more password and...ah, wait-a-minute, before grandson Connor leaves for home, he needs to hook things up for Boompa.
Later in the evening...come bedtime...
"Alexa, play some Nancy Wilson and Etta James Songs." "Alexa, turn off the lights, I'm tired."
I had three clothing items to return but discovered I had to accept gift cards while the store awaits a 'new' stocking of goods. In the meantime, I find myself enjoying one of those whatchamacallits I seem to get each Christmas. When I first unwrapped the gift, I noticed the 'giver' was excited, which in turn elevated my anticipation. Once I saw the black cylinder shaped object, I felt as I often feel when seeing a new electronic gadget for the first time, which is Dumb, very Dumb.' One of my grandkids yelled, "It's an Alexa." Another voice added, "Oh, Boompa got an Amazon-player...one of those Amazon Ecohs." Suddenly, I'm feeling even 'Dumber,' what's an Amazon 'Alexa' Echo???
Soon people are shouting all the things this mysterious thing is going to do for my enjoyment. It's going to tell me time and weather. Play every type of music by any artist I request. My Amazon Echo tells me many other things, i.e. Rose Bowl odds, recipes, word spellings, trivia answers and offers reminders and stories. I just say, "Alexa, set an alarm for 7AM" and bingo, my alarm is set. Of course, my new gadget comes with tech-directions.This means, I gotta engage Amazon online, remember(for future harassment one more password and...ah, wait-a-minute, before grandson Connor leaves for home, he needs to hook things up for Boompa.
Later in the evening...come bedtime...
"Alexa, play some Nancy Wilson and Etta James Songs." "Alexa, turn off the lights, I'm tired."
Saturday, December 29, 2018
Just Imagine
Funny thing happened on the way to Best Buy to get the latest 'social media gadget,' we lost the last bit of our imagination during the trek. It is true that the young children are becoming more knowledgeable and more deeply absorbed in computer technology but at the risk of their declining ability to draw on imagination. I fear our passion for social media in doing little to make us 'social' if not causing us to become more isolated from others and even our ability to imagine.
When I was a young boy of four or five, I had the fastest draw of any cowboy in the neighborhood. Killed me many Indians and bad guys. At age eight-to-ten, I announced imaginary baseball action on my spinner game just like Harry Carey did for my St. Louis Cardinals. While tossing the tennis ball against the front steps of our home on Rosemont Avenue (Washington Park) East St. Louis, Stan Musial always managed to foul off bad offerings and hit home tuns with good pitches. My Little League baseball coach told me one time, when I was just ten years old to improve my pitching delivery by standing in front of my mother's full length mirror and 'pretend' as I would engage my pitching motion while throwing an imaginary pitch towards the mirror watching my every physical mechanic right down to my follow through.
While shooting baskets night after night on the backyard lighted court, I seemed to always 'nail' that buzzer-beating winning shot...time and time again.
I'm convinced that many great accomplishments by individuals had embryo stages in one's imagination. Imagination is our ability to dream, improvise and create thoughtful events, which enhances our potential for achievement and success. Imagination must be encouraged and nurtured in the young.
Imagination
When I was a young boy of four or five, I had the fastest draw of any cowboy in the neighborhood. Killed me many Indians and bad guys. At age eight-to-ten, I announced imaginary baseball action on my spinner game just like Harry Carey did for my St. Louis Cardinals. While tossing the tennis ball against the front steps of our home on Rosemont Avenue (Washington Park) East St. Louis, Stan Musial always managed to foul off bad offerings and hit home tuns with good pitches. My Little League baseball coach told me one time, when I was just ten years old to improve my pitching delivery by standing in front of my mother's full length mirror and 'pretend' as I would engage my pitching motion while throwing an imaginary pitch towards the mirror watching my every physical mechanic right down to my follow through.
While shooting baskets night after night on the backyard lighted court, I seemed to always 'nail' that buzzer-beating winning shot...time and time again.
I'm convinced that many great accomplishments by individuals had embryo stages in one's imagination. Imagination is our ability to dream, improvise and create thoughtful events, which enhances our potential for achievement and success. Imagination must be encouraged and nurtured in the young.
Imagination
Friday, December 28, 2018
Ain't Easy Being Me Through The Years
I have never been big on making New Year's Resolutions. I suppose I shied away from such abstract declarations because I truly did not wish for change or I knew I'd fail in the mission and who wants to begin a New Year as a failure?
This does not mean I shouldn't make New Year's resolutions because I should change some of my ways. For example:
1) I should not take issue with those who support President Trump but I can't help myself...I keep thinking of George W. Bush's education slogan: "No Child Left Behind." I hate to see intellectual potential unfulfilled.
2) I should Resolve not to become frustrated with the direction of Major League Baseball as it embraces 'swing & miss' for home runs and hitters striking out two hundred times a season. I should also accept the pro-baseball agents' propaganda that a pitcher going five innings should make 22-million dollars a year for such 'quality starts.' Excuse me here while I throw-up!
3) I should stop yelling at the television as rap singers grab their privates while making bad rhymes.
4) I REALLY should stop criticizing my 'white' evangelical brothers and sisters for their 'selective' scripture pronouncements. (I am going to try this one so my friend Larry Harnly, who re-posts my blogs, will not come under angry rebuke from his friends.)
Okay, I'll stop here. Those who would...Pray for me on this matter. Meanwhile, I'll pray that our National Nightmare will end in 2019. WOW! 2019! Another year when we will NOT find Jimmy Hoffa but another year of several Elvis sightings!
PS. As caring (Patriotic) Americans, shall we all put Burke's Quotation on a post-it and place it on our bathroom mirror? You know the one...
"For evil to triumph it only takes good men doing nothing."
This does not mean I shouldn't make New Year's resolutions because I should change some of my ways. For example:
1) I should not take issue with those who support President Trump but I can't help myself...I keep thinking of George W. Bush's education slogan: "No Child Left Behind." I hate to see intellectual potential unfulfilled.
2) I should Resolve not to become frustrated with the direction of Major League Baseball as it embraces 'swing & miss' for home runs and hitters striking out two hundred times a season. I should also accept the pro-baseball agents' propaganda that a pitcher going five innings should make 22-million dollars a year for such 'quality starts.' Excuse me here while I throw-up!
3) I should stop yelling at the television as rap singers grab their privates while making bad rhymes.
4) I REALLY should stop criticizing my 'white' evangelical brothers and sisters for their 'selective' scripture pronouncements. (I am going to try this one so my friend Larry Harnly, who re-posts my blogs, will not come under angry rebuke from his friends.)
Okay, I'll stop here. Those who would...Pray for me on this matter. Meanwhile, I'll pray that our National Nightmare will end in 2019. WOW! 2019! Another year when we will NOT find Jimmy Hoffa but another year of several Elvis sightings!
PS. As caring (Patriotic) Americans, shall we all put Burke's Quotation on a post-it and place it on our bathroom mirror? You know the one...
"For evil to triumph it only takes good men doing nothing."
Thursday, December 27, 2018
A Proud East St. Louis Native
Last week, I often heard the song, 'Home For The Holidays.' Obviously, I thought of those yesteryear East St. Louis Holidays and how things were. I know the mere mention of East St. Louis these days brings to one's mind, poverty, blight, decay and crime. My recall, however takes me back to a proud blue collar city that was great in spite of known city government corruption, the underground gang element and the ever present prejudices.
The great numbers of ethnicities exemplified mid-America's melting pot promise of a reachable dream. Men punched the time-cards in dirty factories, great railroad terminals, smelly stockyards as a plethora of satellite factories supported the darling of East Coast monies, which was just across the Mississippi River...(St. Louis, Missouri). From inception East St. Louis was doomed to be the bastard child of St. Louis.
Kids from my East Side generation had a defined template before them. A work-ethic blueprint that would make us resilient in difficult times and tough enough to get up off our backside when doors were slammed and we were knocked down. We ignored political graft and pushed ahead. We marveled at the hypocrisy of those prejudiced taught fans who cheered our high school title teams comprised of whites, blacks, Italians, Jews, Catholics, Protestants, Irish, Polish and other groups.
Young kids had their hometown role models. Entertainers like Miles Davis, Tina Turner. Athletes like Major league baseball players Sam Jethroe, Bob Turkey, Bill Walker, Johnny Wyrostek and even later notables, i.e. U. S. Senator Dick Durbin, Olympian Jackie Joyner, NCAA Coach Cuonzo Martin, NBA star LaPhonso Ellis, tennis great Jimmy Connors and Dana Howard (NFL).
Perhaps one of the most unsung American heroes from East St. Louis was Henry 'Hank' Bauer. Bauer was the youngest of nine children. A graduate of Central Catholic high school who went to work after high school in factories. Given a pro baseball contract he signed but then quickly enlisted in the Marines after Pearl Harbor was attacked. While serving in the military he engaged in 11-campaigns, received two Purple Hearts, two Bronze Stars and the Navy Commendation Medal. In the Battle of Okinawa, Sergeant Bauer was one of six survivivors of a Japanese counterattack, which saw fifty-eight from his platoon perish. When returning to the States he played 14-years for the New York Yankees where he won 7-World Series Championships and holds the record for consecutive World Series game hits (17). Bauer was no nonsense. When he heard that Teammates Whitey Ford and Mickey Mantle were partying late nights, Bauer pinned Ford against the dugout wall and said, "Don't mess with my money." Bauer also stood atop a Yankees dugout during one game looking for the voice yelling racial slurs at teammate Elston Howard. Bauer said, "Ellie's a friend of mine."
East St. Louis, my hometown. A place I can no longer touch but a place that forever touches me.
The great numbers of ethnicities exemplified mid-America's melting pot promise of a reachable dream. Men punched the time-cards in dirty factories, great railroad terminals, smelly stockyards as a plethora of satellite factories supported the darling of East Coast monies, which was just across the Mississippi River...(St. Louis, Missouri). From inception East St. Louis was doomed to be the bastard child of St. Louis.
Kids from my East Side generation had a defined template before them. A work-ethic blueprint that would make us resilient in difficult times and tough enough to get up off our backside when doors were slammed and we were knocked down. We ignored political graft and pushed ahead. We marveled at the hypocrisy of those prejudiced taught fans who cheered our high school title teams comprised of whites, blacks, Italians, Jews, Catholics, Protestants, Irish, Polish and other groups.
Young kids had their hometown role models. Entertainers like Miles Davis, Tina Turner. Athletes like Major league baseball players Sam Jethroe, Bob Turkey, Bill Walker, Johnny Wyrostek and even later notables, i.e. U. S. Senator Dick Durbin, Olympian Jackie Joyner, NCAA Coach Cuonzo Martin, NBA star LaPhonso Ellis, tennis great Jimmy Connors and Dana Howard (NFL).
Perhaps one of the most unsung American heroes from East St. Louis was Henry 'Hank' Bauer. Bauer was the youngest of nine children. A graduate of Central Catholic high school who went to work after high school in factories. Given a pro baseball contract he signed but then quickly enlisted in the Marines after Pearl Harbor was attacked. While serving in the military he engaged in 11-campaigns, received two Purple Hearts, two Bronze Stars and the Navy Commendation Medal. In the Battle of Okinawa, Sergeant Bauer was one of six survivivors of a Japanese counterattack, which saw fifty-eight from his platoon perish. When returning to the States he played 14-years for the New York Yankees where he won 7-World Series Championships and holds the record for consecutive World Series game hits (17). Bauer was no nonsense. When he heard that Teammates Whitey Ford and Mickey Mantle were partying late nights, Bauer pinned Ford against the dugout wall and said, "Don't mess with my money." Bauer also stood atop a Yankees dugout during one game looking for the voice yelling racial slurs at teammate Elston Howard. Bauer said, "Ellie's a friend of mine."
East St. Louis, my hometown. A place I can no longer touch but a place that forever touches me.
Monday, December 24, 2018
All I Want For Christmas
As a child, I recall having those Christmas 'wish lists.' The five-six-year old lad was into 'playing-like' and Cowboys and Indians was the imaginary landscape. I do remember one Christmas getting those two-six-shooters that strapped to each leg as the holsters hung from a belt,which sported a gaudy, shinny buckle.
A year or two later, Perhaps age eight, I wanted that bigger bicycle. I got my wish that year. Christmas morning, I was so excited to see that Roadmaster bike...never mind that it was a 'used' bike. When my teen years took over, the Christmas wish list seemed to always have a ball glove, basketball or some sports' table game. I had become that 'jock-junkie.'
When the teen dating-years approached, I fell into the fashion expectations of the day. My Christmas list had Cashmere V-Neck Sweaters, Khaki, Cord or Levi pants, preferably tapered with a pant-cuff break atop White Bucks, Wing-tips or Black & White Saddle Shoes. The professional years saw my Christmas list moderate with older fashion styles, which included smart suits, flashy sport coats, neck-ties with fluctuating widths and the latest button-down shirts.
In my retirement years' the Christmas wish list focused on 'comfort.' I told those who asked, "Buy me Nike warm ups, New Balance Tennis Shoes, Polo Sport Shirts, Sweatshirts, Under Armour Pullovers or perhaps ankle length white socks." PS. If the garment stretches...all the better!
On this 2018, Christmas Eve, I would leave Santa the following 'wish list:' Please give me: 1) Family Love, 2) Good Friends, 3) Good Health and 4) More Time. Strangely funny but all the things I had and took for granted those Christmases past are 'Paramount Wishes' THIS Christmas Day.
To each of you who take the time to read my blogs, I wish for you this Christmas, God's Blessings and the love of family...simply stated, I wish for YOU that...which I have.
(Touch)
Merry Christmas
A year or two later, Perhaps age eight, I wanted that bigger bicycle. I got my wish that year. Christmas morning, I was so excited to see that Roadmaster bike...never mind that it was a 'used' bike. When my teen years took over, the Christmas wish list seemed to always have a ball glove, basketball or some sports' table game. I had become that 'jock-junkie.'
When the teen dating-years approached, I fell into the fashion expectations of the day. My Christmas list had Cashmere V-Neck Sweaters, Khaki, Cord or Levi pants, preferably tapered with a pant-cuff break atop White Bucks, Wing-tips or Black & White Saddle Shoes. The professional years saw my Christmas list moderate with older fashion styles, which included smart suits, flashy sport coats, neck-ties with fluctuating widths and the latest button-down shirts.
In my retirement years' the Christmas wish list focused on 'comfort.' I told those who asked, "Buy me Nike warm ups, New Balance Tennis Shoes, Polo Sport Shirts, Sweatshirts, Under Armour Pullovers or perhaps ankle length white socks." PS. If the garment stretches...all the better!
On this 2018, Christmas Eve, I would leave Santa the following 'wish list:' Please give me: 1) Family Love, 2) Good Friends, 3) Good Health and 4) More Time. Strangely funny but all the things I had and took for granted those Christmases past are 'Paramount Wishes' THIS Christmas Day.
To each of you who take the time to read my blogs, I wish for you this Christmas, God's Blessings and the love of family...simply stated, I wish for YOU that...which I have.
(Touch)
Merry Christmas
Friday, December 21, 2018
Siriusly
I have had Sirius XM Raidio in our automobile for the past six years. I pay less than $100 a year and I believe it's worth the three stations I most often dial-in, which are '50's-on-5; '60's-on-6 and the MLB network on channel 89. Hey, it floats my boat!
I do notice that during the Christmas Season Channel 3 on Sirius plays continuous Christmas music. My wife also discovered the station and I'm beginning to suffer. Don't take that wrong, I love Christmas music. Like most folks, I have my favorite Christmas Carols and Christmas Songs. That said, since listening non-stop to this Sirius Christmas Tunes. I've come to realize that every singer who ever stood before a microphone recorded White Christmas, Silent Night and Santa Claus is Coming To Town.
Okay, I said that I had favorites, here are some:
Christmas Hymns>>Silent Night and O' Little Town of Bethlehem
Christmas Songs>>The Spirit of Christmas and Walking in a Winter Wonderland
......and your picks???
(Touch)
Drifting White Snow
I do notice that during the Christmas Season Channel 3 on Sirius plays continuous Christmas music. My wife also discovered the station and I'm beginning to suffer. Don't take that wrong, I love Christmas music. Like most folks, I have my favorite Christmas Carols and Christmas Songs. That said, since listening non-stop to this Sirius Christmas Tunes. I've come to realize that every singer who ever stood before a microphone recorded White Christmas, Silent Night and Santa Claus is Coming To Town.
Okay, I said that I had favorites, here are some:
Christmas Hymns>>Silent Night and O' Little Town of Bethlehem
Christmas Songs>>The Spirit of Christmas and Walking in a Winter Wonderland
......and your picks???
(Touch)
Drifting White Snow
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