A PRAYER FOR THE NEW YEAR

May the Lord bless you and keep you,
May He let His face shine upon you, and be gracious to you,
May the Lord look upon you with kindness, and grant you His peace.

A very insightful and extensive history of this prayer can be found at www.lesserweevil.blogspot

And as Jose Feliciano would say....Prospero Ano y Felicidad 2006

LOOKS LIKE I'M IT....

The phenomena of "tagging" has put me in the Blogoshpere game full force.
Moneybags at "A Catholic Life" has put me in the crazy position of having to tell people I do not know 5 weird habits about myself. I usually reserve this for the confessional, so you won't get the full story.
However, good sport that I am, here are.........

FIVE QUIRKY ELEMENTS OF MY SIMPLE SELF

1. I love to nap...anywhere from 10 minutes to a half hour to several hours. It has always been one of my singular talents, and I find out from scientific inquiry that it is a very healthful and therapeutic endeavor. So there!
2. All my socks have logos. Adidas and Nike....with the white mostly the three stripe variety, and the black sporting the swoosh. As a sidebar to this, I usually wear t-shirts with writing and pictures on them under dress shirts, but I am a teacher, and we can get away with almost anything in the dress code arena.
3. To fall asleep, I need to have the down comforter over my head. Maybe not so good for the oxygen levels, but it feels "oh, so comfy".
4. I cut my own hair. Using a clipper bought in 1980 and the No. 3 and 4 attachment, I do a pretty good job, save upwards of $15, and am able to avoid the annoying chit-chat about "well, what do you do...do you have any kids...and how about those Rams, Cards, Blues (pick one)."
Still, I am psychotically considering letting my follically impaired dome go to seed, with the result being a ponytail, or looking like Doc Brown from "Back to the Future." Call it a cheap guys mid-life crisis.....Unfortunately, the fuzz never grows long, but rather "out". We shall see what sprouts.
AND, MERCIFULLY,...
5. I exercise in the basement, no, not on an elliptical or stationary bike or treadmill or Nautilus, but simply by walking around in a tight circle, past the steps, aroung the ironing board and occasionlly switching the laundry....efficient, no gym fees, listen to any music I want, climate controlled...and I lost the ten pounds my doc told me to drop to lower my BP to acceptable levels without pharmacological intervention....(I do get outside when the weatherman says "it's going to be up to 40 today...)

There you have it. Rule is to pass this on to five others. So you guys are "it"....
angelmeg at Transcendental Musings...Anvilcloud at Raindrops....Paul at Thoughts of a Regular Guy...Patry at Simply Wait...and last but certainly not least...Non Sum Dignus at The Lair of the Catholic Caveman.
Have fun!

MEA CULPA re: MIZZOU

Roughly translated from the Latin into the current vernacular as "My Bad", I must, in the interest of full disclosure and the pursuit of truth, justice and the American way, acknowledge that I decided to take a long winters nap before the end of the first quarter after the Tigers fell behind 21-nil.
We were headed to a birthday party Saturday night, and I need my nappy....so...at 5:30 when my one and only popped open the door and said "Hey...Rip (her pet name for he who naps like in a coma)....guess what, Mizzou tied the game." Well, you can imagine that I thought I was dreaming, but, no, the drool on the pillow was real, and the Boys in Black and Gold had miraculously done just what my bride had said.
Call me a fair weather fan, or just a guy who needs napping (see June archives), but I had pretty much taken the same tack back in the fall (see October archives) when I couldn't bear to see my beloved Redbirds fall to the despised team from Texas with the misshapen ball park. I turned off that game, and was resigned to the fact that the season ended, until my Chicago daughter called to bring me back to the reality of "Albert the Great" Pujols.
So Coach Gary Pinkel gets to keep his job, and enter the new year wondering just what the heck he is going to do without the Amazing Brad Smith.
Maybe I should fall asleep during the next Rams game?
This could be a karma thing.

LOYAL (AND HOPEFUL) FAN

Call me a "homer" if you will, (and I don't mean Simpson), but I will be pulling for Mizzou in their bowl game today. Yeah, you can say they didn't deserve a bowl game, and compared to USC and Notre Dame and Texas, that tis true. Still, post-season is post-season.
And there just hasn't been a whole heck of a lot to get excited sports-wise in my hometown this winter. The Rams are a soap opera; the carpet-bagging owners of the Cardinals are cheaping out on player acquisition, despite rolling in greenbacks after selling everything not nailed down from the old Busch Stadium, from napkin holders to vials of infield dirt, to the urinal used by the hometeam (bought by an enterprising urologist, no less); and the Blues are fighting to be the worst team in NHL history, certainly in Blues history.
So yeah, Go Tigers!

LET'S TALK ABOUT LOVE

The week between Christmas and New Years always seems to bring out the retrospective pieces in newspapers and television, like who died this past year or what major events occurred to shape the days passed. These are all well and good, for they show us where we have been and give us pause to reflect upon the worth of our time spent. But as I head into my 58th year, dragging the “middle-aged” label behind me, with the “senior” signpost coming into not-so-distant-view, I’ve been thinking a lot about the future.
And with those thoughts, come thoughts of love.
Love is a verb, and a noun. It is action, and substance. It can be created and nurtured, and lost. You can’t see it, but you can feel it. Like the time you were running into the store, scanning the parking lot for the wayward car, and your outstretched hand is grasped by that eager little mitt. Or the excitement when she walks in the door, and smiles.
Love has been the focus of many a story and song. The masters have given it some great treatment. Guys like Shakespeare and O. Henry. And fellow travelers like St. Paul. Old Billy S. gave us timeless tales of young love. Juliet and her main squeeze Romeo had it bad. And in “The Gift of the Magi”, when O. Henry has his newlyweds sell their most prized possessions in the whole world to turn into a gift for the other….well, call me a wimp, if you will. But I can never read it without that old lump coming up in the throat, as Jim tells Dell he has “sold the watch to get the money to buy the combs.”
Speaking of lumps, another one always shows up when Harry Bailey comes, in covered with snow, and raises the cup of cheer “in a toast to my big brother, George… The richest man in town.”
Brotherly love, romantic love, love of country. Love of a son for his parents.
That one has been forefront of late, with my moms latest run with illness and hospitalization. I guess it’s true that you don’t know how much you love someone until you think you may lose them. The anxiety and pain is so clear and present.
Love has been misused and abused, however
“Gee, hon, I just love that new kitchen set.” Or “try the calamari, you’ll just love it.” (Yeah, till you find out it’s SQUID!). Or “love means never having to say you’re sorry.” How lame was that one?
We know a Franciscan priest who calls Jesus on the crucifix his “Boss on the Cross”, and says “now, that’s what I call love” when he holds it up for a blessing.
The Beatles said “all you need is love. But they also said “you know, it don’t come easy.”
And both are true, as anyone who has been well-wed for a couple of decades can attest to.
Maybe the best words on the subject are those that you hear at weddings. What better time to put good old St. Paul’s lines to work.
As man and woman join to one, we hear “love is patient, love is kind. Love is not jealous, it does not put on airs; it is not snobbish.” He continues that “there is no limit to loves forbearance, to its trust, its hope, its power to endure. Love never fails.”
For those of you who have more than one child, didn’t you wonder how you could love a second as much as your first? That love, it just multiplies, doesn’t it?
Paul finishes with a fine flourish.
“There are in the end three things that last. Faith, hope and love. And the greatest of these is love.”
Peace….and love…to you all in the New Year.

(as printed in the December 28 Suburban Journal, St. Louis, MO)

TEACHIN' THIS OLD DOG

I just learned how to set up links....so there they are on the right side...some very nice writers among them....so check them out, if you would be so kind.
(even this old dog can learn a new trick or two)

'TIS A COUPLE BEFORE CHRISTMAS

Something I had printed in the Suburban Journals of St. Louis last week....Things are going to be going pretty fast these next few days...so if I don't get back here before the 25th....MERRY CHRISTMAS AND JOYEUX NOEL AND !FELIZ NAVIDAD Y PROSPERO ANO Y FELICIDAD!….

A CHRISTMAS VISION

Couple days before Christmas
And all through this place
We are anxiously laboring
To finish the race.
The hours of roof-time had not been in vain,
I managed to finish, in spite of the pain.
Those lights were all working, much to my surprise,
I plugged in the last strand and opened my eyes
To see the old homestead go bright in the dark.
I sure didn’t want to be like old buddy Clark.
You know, that guy who strung lights to get ready,
Only to suffer his “dear Cousin Eddie”….
That film is a classic, a holiday fave,
But let me continue with this Yuletide rave.
Kids stockings are hung by our chimney, it’s true…
With increasing grandkids, we’ve got quite a few.
There’s three scattered ‘round, with one more on the way,
And one, who calls home Californ-I-A,
Who’ll experience Christmas with sunshine and sand…
Oh, how I’d love to hold her little hand.
(Still lots to be done, can’t be melancholy,
Gotta deck all them halls with them big boughs of holly.)
But last night I lay sleeping and heard a loud crash,
Could that be a raccoon upsetting the trash?
I glanced at the missus, and she was a-sleeping,
So on down to the hallway window I went peeping.
You could scarcely believe what I saw as I viewed…
“What the heck?” muttered I. “You must be trippin’, dude!”
For out on that lawn in a Mustang bright red
Was an old guy with whiskers and a big old bald head.
He wore a red sweat suit and black hi-top “Chucks”,
And he looked like some weirdo out getting his yucks.
He said not a word, but popped open the trunk,
And the light of the moon, it showed all sorts of junk.
I had to check out what this old guy was into
So up went the blinds as I yanked up the window.
“Hey you, down there, on the yard with the stuff…
Don’t make me come down there…don’t make me get rough!”
The fellow just grinned as he turned up my way,
“Take a chill pill, there, grampa, and do not dismay.
Why, I’m just the man that you need in a pinch.
I’ll fill up your family room….every dang inch.
But I’m too old for chimneys, and it’s too late for playin’,
So give me a hand, here…You hear what I’m sayin’?”
You can guess I was dazed at the sight of this gent,
But downstairs I stumbled, and outdoors I went.
He loaded us up with huge piles of great stuff
Like toys, gifts and clothing…his game was no bluff.
He handled the big things, which was all right with me,
Already the cold was affecting my knee.
When at last as the trunk was just emptied all out,
He gave me a wink, and he let out a shout….
“Woooohoooo!” said the guy as he rose like a star,
And when he was gone…..
He had left me his car!
My best Christmas ever? Not really; no way.
Our best was our first born one past Christmas Day.
But, guess what, this here one was pretty dang fine.
Didn’t cost me no nickel, didn’t cost me one dime.
So if you see me gunnin’ that ‘Twang” through the streets,
With as many can fit in the white leather seats,
You can hear me exclaim as I roll down the way
“Happy Christmas To All…I’ll be back New Years Day!”

PANIC WEEK

Or is it? Tons of folks are in a state of near paralysis as they try to finish the shopping and wrapping and baking and cleaning and...and...and whatever else it takes to get ready for Christmas. I really have no real idea what it feels like, since, being a guy, all I have to ever do is show up when told. And that is how I like it. Still, I "angst" a bit as I see my poor wife try to get it all together. So I wrap (poorly), if asked; make the run for tape and sprinkles, ...you know, stuff I can handle.
Is it all worth it?
The answer is an unqualified "yes!"
Being one of those Catholic-type Christians, I find that the outward signs of the season help me remember what this time should be about. The lights, for "The Light of the World"....the greenery, for new life.....the Advent wreath, one candle for each week...gift-giving, to remind us of the Perfect Gift.....all the externals that prompt internal focus.
Take it easy this week, however. Save something for next weekend.
However. if you must, I wear a medium shirt, and can always use socks.

BOSS ON THE CROSS

There is a Franciscan priest who visits hospitals in the St. Louis area by the name of Father Didacus Dunn. He wears the same jacket every day, sporting a blue longshoreman-type knit hat. His habit is the brown, hooded frock of the Franciscans. He visited my mom recently, and gave her the Sacrament of the Sick, blessing her with a few prayers.
When asked what he has been doing lately, his answer is always the same....
"My boss keeps me busy....." He is referring to God. He calls Jesus the "Boss on the Cross." Needless to say, he is one of the characters that make like so interesting. One of the most remarkable things about him is that he has an ailment of the spine that causes his neck to almost come out at a right angle to his shoulders.
But this doesn't slow him down.
His Boss keeps him busy, and safe.
He is a blessing to all he touches.

A DAY OF REJOICING

This old world has given us at least two reasons to celebrate today.
In a far away country, one said to be where the Garden of Eden was located, millions of embattled people tasted what it means to be free. Iraqis voted in national elections, amidst very little reported violence. A miracle, some may say.
And, on a much smaller but no less valuable scale, in New York, we saw on the news that a tiny baby was amazingly tossed three stories down by its mother from a burning building and caught by a very sure-handed public servant.
Child, and mother are doing just fine, thank you.
Rejoice, for a child is alive, and so is the spirit of democracy.

ARE YOU A GOOD WAIT-ER?

This is an example of my column in the weekly paper. A bit longer than usual.

“Wait a second” I had been known to say to one of my offspring in an earlier day, especially when I was trying to tie a shoe on a constantly moving foot, or pull a diaper tight on Mr. Wiggly Butt there on the bed. Unfortunately, a second was about all they could manage. For life was just too full of other interesting things to do than wait.
It doesn’t really get any better as we get older. We live in a hurry-up world, trying to pack an inordinate amount of activity into our waking hours, but still seem to get caught in the “wait zone” more often than not. Wait for that light to change, the nurse to call your name after sitting in the waiting room for what seemed like days, for the end of the work day. How about waiting for Santa, counting the days until vacation, or the seemingly interminable 9 months for little Arnold or Adelaide to decide to find their way into the light? Yeah, we do a lot of biding the old time. Why, Wilson Pickett even had to “wait for the midnight hour.” I guess that’s when he got off work, or something.
Are you a good waiter? Can you handle traffic, slow service, long lines? Patience is that one virtue that I am not genetically wired for. I guess I get it from my dear old dad, who knew every short cut known to modern man, and would drive 6 blocks in three different directions, violating most road ordinances, to avoid a main street and “that damn traffic”.
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my mom gave me vitamins when I was a squirmy second grader, to the complete horror of my teacher Miss Murphy. It is a good thing there were no hot lines then, otherwise mommy would have had a visit from “the worker.”
Of course, us non-patient sorts always seem to get into situations that put us to the test. I am the guy who should wear a sign on my back in a store: “Standing behind me in line may be hazardous to your health.” I always seem to que up behind the lady who has managed to pick up the only pair of jeans in North America without a tag.
“Price check in Women’s Wear,” says the hapless clerk, to the department where everyone has just gone on break.
“Hey, I’ll just leave some cash on the counter, Ok, and you can keep the change,” I’d like to say, but of course, I seldom have that much cash. So I just try to close my eyes and imagine I am in a canoe on an ice-blue lake, miles from civilization. You know, like the self-help books say to do………
It never works.
The worst wait for me is always at the auto license bureau. Even if there are only a few folks ahead of me, I always worry that I have forgotten that one piece of paper that will require me to look like an idiot when I get up to the counter, and have to go back home to retrieve. It’s like that bad dream where you have forgotten to study for that big test, or are standing in the street in your underwear. It has only happened to me once (no, NOT standing in the street in my underwear….forgetting my paperwork!) but that is enough to raise the stress level every time I have to renew the tags. I bet the people at those offices keep a secret tally in the break room, maybe even getting bonuses for every moron whom they get to send away with the words “I’m sorry, sir, you have last year’s personal property tax receipt,” right before they break out into uncontrollable laughter.
So maybe that’s not the worst wait you can think of. Fretting out a surgery for a loved one or bad news from the accountant can be a lot more troublesome. But any way you skin it, waiting is just no fun
Maybe I’ll bide my time from now on, waiting for the promise of a new day.
Now that sounds like something worth waiting for.

THAT SWEET CHARIOT

The unique position that people of my age are in was never so apparent as in the events of the past 10 days. Last weekend, my father-in-law fell and needed us to help him out. He lives alone since his wife passed away three years ago. He has been in steady decline. The in-laws and my wife are great with the concern and care. But there is always the worry.
This week, my mom had a heart attack and needed stents. At 84, she is also in decline, and may have had some small strokes that are effecting her memory for words.
And so it goes.
This is what is meant by the "sandwich generation". I have a college kid and a freshman in high school to still raise... although the older feels she is raised, and, pretty much, she is right...she has grown to be a beautiful and independent young woman. So we have it on both ends of the life pole, not to mention the ever-increasing category of "grandchildren."
The Native Americans see life as a circle, with begining and end meeting at the same place. During that journey, we are at various places on that circle.
Something that a priest friend of ours said today brings to mind that the spiritual "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" is never truer than when it applies to the end of that circle. Old Elijah is coming on that fiery chariot, and we are all waiting for our ride, "comin' for to carry me home."
For our parents, that chariot, she is a-comin'.
It is up to us to us to help them prepare for that last ride home.

FAITH

I mentioned at work that today was the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, and the word "feast" hit me square in the brain. Catholics let this term roll off their tongues without even thinking about. But feast it is, in every sense of the word....
Consider Mary. A poor Jewish girl, no real wealth, but from the House of David lineage. Still, a lot of others were also from this background. But she is considered holy and venerable because she was the vessel within which God placed his son.
So she had to be someone fairly special, don't you think?
I know a lot of religions think that Catholics are idolators, worshipping saints and statues and Mary. In reality, these are just more ways to pray.
So enjoy the feast of Mary this day.

THE END OF AN ERA

Well, we finally did it.
Ever since our first three-foot tree in our first apartment (the one that Jill's brothers all laughed at because they always tried to get the Rockefeller Plaza trees twin into their small North County bungalow), we've had a real live, honest-to-tradition Christmas tree. And we have been proud of it, too. But after last years experience of the loss of multiple ornaments and tangled lights and a need to nail the dang bush into the baseboards with fishing wire.....for the second season in a row....well, we said last January that it was time to go the...the, uh...the artificial route. ( There....I said it.) Our oldest son said he was sorely disappointed in us, and that he wasn't coming home for Christmas this year. Well, he was only half kidding, because he can't come home anyway, due to work. But the message was clear.
We were "selling out."
Still, we made a couple of visits to the local family-owned hardware store display at the Otto's Handyman-True Value, and amidst some sadness for bygone days, made the move to the practical.
"It's gonna be fine," said I, to my sad wifey, as we walked to the car. "I'm so sorry," said she, to the collection of forlorn little trees out on the lot.
Charlie Brown and Linus would not be proud of me.
But as I contemplate the idea of a non-shedding, non-flammable, and best of all, non-falling-to the-floor-crashing-in-the-middle-of-the-night disaster area in the family room....well, let's just say that this idea may not be as bad as it first seemed.

HAVE I GOT A DEAL FOR YOU

In the midst of scenes of bargain hunters trampling over people to get the best deal, it came to mind while sitting in Mass today that the best deal was offered by the guy on the cross over to my right. Didn't cost me a thing, ready and waiting for the asking....I'm talking about salvation, brothers and sisters.
I take it for granted, but it is there for the taking. All I have to do is say "Yes" to the Lord....and then live my life accordingly.

BOOMERISM

The term "Baby Boomer" has really received some play in past years. Now a lot of us are pushing the retirement envelope, having grandkids, waking up aching, looking for medical support, having parents become ill and pass away....the whole thing. Unfortunately, all this causes us to become self-focused to a large degree, just at a time when we should be stepping out of own little worlds to support our kids and our spouses and our community and churches.
Instead, we are fretting about that 401K, trying yoga and alternative therapies, hoping we can get that slice fixed before the next golf season kicks in. And while these aren't bad things, becuase we should be concerned about finances and health and recreation, we really should watch out that it doesn't overtake our life. I have fallen into this hole, and I need to crawl out.
My darling wife has pulled me up short on this lately. (Don't know what I would do without her...)
She tells me to "just get back to living...."
Great advice for us all.

AND SO WE GROW...

Tonight our second oldest, Kate, brought over an ornament for us with five little elves on it, but the fifth one had no name on its hat.....this was her very cute way of telling us that she was pregnant with her second child, and our fifth grandchild. Suffice it to say, we were thrilled. Our kids continue to affirm their faith in the future, and in His plan for us all...an early Christmas present, if you will.
God bless us, everyone.

SELF PROMOTION AT ITS WORST

I have for about a year and a half been doing a semi-monthly column in the local Suburban Journal called "A Boomer's Journal". It has been great fun, and has allowed me to basically wander about through my mind for topics that are near and dear.
So I blatantly invite you to find it on the "stltoday.com" website, the official site of the ST. Louis Post-Dispatch, the owner of the Journals, who are in turn owned by Lee Enterprises of Iowa...(weren't monopolies outlawed some years ago.....?). Go to Neighborhoods and then click on any of the North Journals and look for "Baby Boomer".
Let me know on this site if you see anything you like.....

SIMPLIFY

With the coming of Christmas, the tendency is to begin to get everything in order. You know, decorate the house, put up the lights, buy gifts ( I love the line when a gift is purchased..."well, we got so and so out of the way..."). Stress and anxiety are high, and this is just not what it should be. What we all need to do is to Simplify.
Take it easy on the holiday parties... so what if cards aren't sent out...cut back on the gifts.... make your presence more important than your presents. Show love in a way other than through what you get for someone.
Now this is not to say that we should forego the trappings of the time. Especially if you have little kids, Christmas is a big deal and memories should be made. But don't let yourself get upset if the item you feel will tell your loved one that he or she is special is out of your price range. You are just the right price...and more valuable than any "early-bird special bargain at the greatest sale of the year."
In a book called "The Little Prince", there is a quote....."what is essential is invisible to the eye."
Remember this during this time when we should be celebrating the birth of The Child.

TURKEY DAY 2005

We hosted the wife's family for the T day dinner....lots of laughing, singing, imbibing, and love....Jill is one of 9, and they were all in attendance with their corresponding kids, kids spouses, our kids and their families...and one great-grampa...my mom, who has been in poor health, chose to stay home..probably a wise move, since it was raucous. A note of sadness...three years ago today the matriarch of the family died of heart failure, after fighting a weak heart for years...she is missed today as much as she was then, maybe even more so...she loved Thanksgiving and seeing all the kids and grandkids wreak havoc....her dressing is probably the single most delicious dressing ever concocted....a little gravy, some pepper......perfection on a plate.
We love you, Joanie....

OK...NOW ITS SAFE TO WATCH....

After over a year since the heartbreak, I finally watched "Fever Pitch", the story of the Red Sox reversing the curse. And in a way, I wish I could have enjoyed it when it happened, since it really was a miraculous sports moment. They were down 3 games to none and in their last chance in the ninth, when they strung 4 straight wins against all odds and against their arch-rivals....the momentum carrying over to our own Cardinals, and.....well, another sweep. The movie mercifully only touched on the World Series in St. Louis....the real story was about a baseball nut and his love for a woman. As a film, it was just so-so....as a piece of sports history, it made me realize that, yeah, the Sawks really deserved to be champs...as much as I hated to believe it for so long.
Next year I will enjoy the game more for what it is.....win or lose.

THAT'S A WINNER!

Well, it looks like the baseball gods smiled on St. Louis as Albert Pujols won the National League Most Valuable Player award this week. It is more than coincidental that the day he was announced was the Catholic feast day of St. Albert the Great. How can you add to that piece of irony? Pujols was clearly deserving, as he has been for several years, only to have been beaten out of the honor by (who every right-thinking person knows is) a cheater...Mr. Bonds from the Giants.
Justice wins out at last.

DANG...LOST AGAIN

I just saw that People magazine named someone else "sexiest man alive"....and once more, they pass me by....oh well, as the Cubs and the Blues (and the Democrats) say....there's always next year.

HERE COME THE HOLIDAYS

Looks like we are having Thanksgiving for my wifes family...it will be joyful mayhem...lots of unbelievable food and much wine and Anheuser-Busch products will be consumed...the turkey is almost an afterthought....enough little ones running and screaming to make it wild....although more and more, teens and young adults are our children now...still, Jack Daniels and I will get reacquainted, much like Clark Griswolds dad did...hope yours is as nutty-fun as ours will be.

CRUEL SOCCER CONTINUED...

Trinity Catholic High School lost 1-0 on a weak first half goal yesterday. But if you don't score, you can't win....and with a healthy wind the first half, I thought the kids should have shot more.....seems todays boys want to walk it into the net...oh well, takes a lot to get to the state finals, and congrats to them for that.
Sunday it is....a time for Mass and family...except some bozo plunked my mailbox last night and I have to get it straightend out. Remember the TV show MacGiver? .........the one where he used miscellaneous stuff to fashion ways out of trouble? Time for me to jump into "Mac mode"....
Have a great week....someone once said that if we could all make Monday our favorite day of the week instead of Friday, that life would take on a much more positive tone....as for me, I'm still working on it............

SOCCER IS A CRUEL GAME

We saw our wonderful nephew lose his game in the Atlantic 10 soccer conference on penalty kicks. PENALTY KICKS....................AN AWFUL WAY TO END A SOCCER GAME!!!!!
Both teams played well, but SLU got a lucky goal, while Dayton hit the cross bar once and had a goal in the second half called back due to offsides. Oh well, sometimes I hate that game as much as I love it................The game was marred by some hoolligan-like tactics by SLU... somehow I expected better from a team ranked nationally, but Dayton's kids really took it to them.............One more game today, as daughters high school team plays for the championship at what I still call Soccer Park in Fenton....

BACK IN THE HUNT

Last visit I was hoping for the Cardinals to go on....alas, they did not, but I did. It's been busy, with grandkids in the house and school and daughter in cheerleading. In St. Louis, we are now in the finals of soccer competition, always a big deal in this town. Our daughters high school is in their final four, our nephew is in Division 1 college soccer tournament at St. Louis U. Crisp air and the excitement of excellent soccer. If you don't like the game, I can't help you....If you do,this is as good as it gets...........

THE GREAT PUJOLS

God forgive me for being such a chicken....the Great Pujols blasted a bomb off the stupid wall of the idiotic Minute Maid Park, saving the skins of the Cards and bringing them back to Busch STadium....lets see what the Astros can do in a real ball park........I had to be brought back to baseball reality by my daughter from Chicago, who called me after the big bang....Then calls from both boys in California solidified the moment........my wife couldn't believe it when I told her as I crawled into bed....way past my bedtime...........
GO CARDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Can't really believe it............

Here I sit, broken hearted....nah really just disappointed again in the Cardinals lack of timely hitting in the NLCS against Houston....I really do hate that team, especially Biggio....I can't watch the rest of the game....win or lose, I'll find out sometime after its all over......maybe turn on the radio about midnight....just can't bear to see them lose....
And if they stage a miraculous comeback and win..........well, then just say I missed it. I already wasted a lot of time on the games this summer, when I could have read War and Peace or something. The big bummer is my son Tim got two tickets to the third game of the World Series.... that will not likely be played in St. Louis.

BEEN AWAY AWHILE

I was kind of put off by some stuff I saw on this "blogosphere", some pretty rank sites. Still, I think what I have to put out there is good enough to be read. So, I'm back.
As I write this, a new storm is bearing down on the Florida Keys, following the same track as Katrina, and may become a Cat 3 or 4.
God help the people there in the path, and the responders as well.

The new school year and stuff

Well, I passed my medical tests without even studying...it seems that my blood pressure and heart are ok for my age, risk levels are low, no signs of cardio disease....Yes!
So what was wrong with me.... most likely, dehydration and stress.... Anxiety is a strange little bugger....
Steps to take are starting a low sodium diet and facing situations and overcoming them.....
On the DASH diet, which I started a month ago, I have lost 7 pounds, accompanying this with thirty minutes of serious walking. I can't run, cause my right ankle is the size of a tennis ball from old soccer injuries, and I hate treadmills and rotary bikes are boring. Besides the walking gets all the muscles up to speed.
And the new school year is on, baby.....I have a generally good bunch of special ed kids this year, with true educational needs....not like the thugs I had last year....but even though it's still only the first week, the sense I get so far is that these kids will be a lot of fun.
Too hot to play any golf in the Mississippi Valley, ....even when temps are in the high 70's the humidity can be at 95, and that is at 7:30 in the evening.....
I long for the fall...I'll be out on the links then..........
check out www.stltoday.com for "your journals" then go to Opinions..."Baby Boomer" to see my bi-monthly column........t

So what the heck is this all about..........

We recently had a baptism for our youngest grandchild in Chicago, little Petey. Everything was going well, the ceremony was beautiful, all our kids were able to be there, from St. Louis, and LA and Chicago, and a lot of other family and friends. So what do I do?.....I start to get flippy and my heart rate goes up and I feel like I'm going to pass out. Lots a fun, I am.....
So long story short, I miss the whole after party, and end up going to the ER. Everything checks out ok, except I have an elevated pulse, and what does that mean....So back home for some tests and an "Event recorder" for two days....and a thalium test for heart function....
This bites, to use the current slang.
It may be high bp, or anxiety, may be something to do with dehydration, or the sun, or maybe aliens have overtaken my body....I don't know.
Hopefully soon to find out.
Is there anything more boring than listening to someone talk about their medical condition......
Sorry....

DUCK AND COVER

AS A KID GROWING UP IN THE 50'S AND 60'S, THE FEAR WE HAD WAS THAT THE RUSSIANS WOULD BOMB US. I RECALL THE SIGHT OF GIANT MISSLES RISING UP ON THEIR DERRICKS, READY TO HURTLE DEATH OUR WAY.
OF COURSE, WE WERE GOING TO BE OK, ESPECIALLY IF AN ATTACK OCCURRED DURING SCHOOL HOURS, BECAUSE ALL WE HAD TO DO WAS PUT OUR HEADS UNDER OUR DESKS.
IN RETROSPECT, THIS TECHNIQUE WAS AKIN TO PUTTING OUR HEADS IN THE SAND.
WHAT WE REALLY WERE DOING IS GETTING OUR SELVES IN POSITION TO KISSING OUR $%##@ GOODBYE.
TODAYS THREATS ARE MORE REAL, WITH A GREATER PROBABILITY OF HAPPENING, BUT WITH FAR LESS POTENTIAL EFFECT. BUT THEN, IF SOME CRAZY DUDE GETS THE IDEA TO BLOW UP A DIRTY BOMB AT A BALL GAME......
AH...LIFE.

NBA HOOPS REVISITED

Well, the Spurs and Pistons showed me something. In what I think was a record low scoring NBA final, I saw a game that I will probably come back to next year. Defense was a key, and the 3 point shot was almost all but taken away as a result. Not like the college game, where the trey is an offensive mainstay. Still, I was amazed at how fast these guys are, given their size. True athletes, yes they are. That in itself was worth the watch. Manu Ginobli, who looks like Balki from that show with Cousin Larry, Perfect Strangers.....that dude can play. He should have been MVP....
Now it is back to baseball....this is the year for the Cardinals...last years October was an abberation, a misalignment of the stars...Boston will never repeat what they did, winning 7 straight post-season games...
GO REDBIRDS!!

NBA HOOPS

I just can't get into the whole NBA thing anymore....you cant't pry me away from the college game, especially during March Madness..but the pro's leave me cold. It's not a racial thing, especially since so many of the players are now coming from Europe and other countries. Maybe it is the whole thing about how incredibly rich they all are...but then, look at baseball, which I will watch at any level, and the outrageous money that is being thrown around there.
So, tonite I am going to give the 7th game with the Spurs and the Pistons a look.
Maybe I can get back into it.

Summer memories

Coming home to lunch for fried baloney sandwiches and mom pouring hot water down my throat everytime I swallowed an ice cube from drinking grape koolade from a sweating tin lime green tumbler that probably caused cancer but made the koolade sooooooooo cold and then going back to playing baseball in jeans and a white t-shirt until the shirt was gray and dirt streaked and waiting on the porch with two gloves til dad came home from work and no matter how tired he was he would take a few minutes to play catch........Father's day and it's three years he has gone ...I miss him more the longer it gets....went by the old house the other day with my youngest Joanie....funny how everything always seems so much smaller....there was the yard where we threw that old Mr. Rawlings back and forth, back and forth.......I told Joanie how me and my brother used to jump off the roof of the garage on the side of the house...she laughed, and I guess it was because she could almost see her old dad as a nutty little kid, rolling around on the grass by the hill on Wilson's yard, 'cause it hurt so bad when you first hit the ground....only to get up the ladder and do it again.....told mom today as my daughter Kate and her son patrick (bubba) went to lunch....she was shocked..."I guess I didn't watch you close enough" she said with a laugh.... I guess that's why I am equally shocked when I hear some of the goofy stunts my own kids tried when they were young and indestructible.............you just don't think anyone could be as stupid as you were...............

TALENT

All my life I wanted to play the guitar. Most guys my age dreamed of being like Clapton or the Beatles or wailing like Jimmie Hendrix. The best I can do is pull some chords on my old acoustic. I am trying to get my 14 year old daughter interested so I can have an excuse for getting a cheap starter electric.........you know, guitar and amp for under $200....that we both can use. Son Joe out in LA has been getting pretty good on his...taking lessons...trying to get into a band...living every boys dream.
Maybe he'll teach me when he comes home.
Of course the issue of talent comes in here. Of which I have none. And short fingers...not a good combination for five-string prowess.

THE JOY OF NAPPING

With apologies to Joyce Kilmer, "I think that I shall never see, something so wonderful as a ..nap."
I can sleep on concrete, in the car, sitting up...and much to the dismay of my wife, can fall asleep mid-sentence as we lie in bed, discussing this or that. While it takes her sometimes an hour to hit slumberland, I have already entered into my first REM cycle. This serves me well, since I can also hit the pillow mid-day and knock off an easy hour-hour and a half of downtime. Sometimes the kids are sent up to check my breathing.
Oh, well. Just another one of my many talents...........

So THAT's who Deep Throat is?....

I was a bit surprised to learn of the identity of Deep Throat. I thought it would be Alexander Haig. However, the FBI guy makes a lot of sense as the secret talker of long ago. Like many of you, I read the book and saw the movie and was confirmed in the opinion that Nixon was on the nutty side. I also feel he was used by those around him, who knew his dark side, to further their own careers. Well, a lot of good it did them.
There is a lot of talk that there was more than one source for the boys from the Washington Post, and that they made up some of the story elements to get a greater dramatic effect. Whatever the case may be, the whole shebang sure did show the power of the press.
As I feel sorry for the family of Nixon, I at the same time am greatful that he was shown for what he was. Who can forget the image of a fallen president waving a stiff-armed V- for victory sign with a big grin as he boarded the helicopter to disgrace.
It was a weird time in our recent past.

The end isn't near.....the END IS HERE!!

Well finally the day we have all been waiting for is on the horizon...one of the favorite days of the year for teachers....the last day of school....after months of study and re-study and reteaching and begging and cajoling, the little scholars are being set free. As a teacher for a bunch of years, I've seen the day as always being one of celebration and consternation ...happy to see the kids move on, and wondering if I did enough to get them to where they were supposed to be. Oh well, not that I can do anything about it now....but the hope is there that what was gained this year in some way will stick with the kids in their struggles in high school.
Life in a middle school is nothing if it is not interesting, different every day, as changeable as the kids whose hormones are raging through their veins like a swollen creek after a summer downpour.

howYOU doin'?

I decided to create a blog. not sure just why, except that I saw this ad about setting up a weblog and being able to muse and rant and type stuff that other people may find interesting, even humorous. You see, I have been writing a column for a local weekly in the St. Louis area for about a year, and have had a great time with it. It's all about how I try to slug my way through life as a 56 year old guy with 6 kids and 4 grandkids and a great wife and a teaching job that gives me summers off and time to write. Soooooooooooo. I'll be putting up some thoughts about life and living in this unpredictable and crazy world we live in, from the perspective of a baby boomer who is trying to make some sense of it all.
See ya around...........tom