Category Archives: Family

Ecce Homo

Imbolc                                                             Valentine Moon

Scott got reservations at David Fong’s, a long time Chinese restaurant in Bloomington. David Fong, Yin’s brother, started a chow mein takeout on the same location about 50 years ago.  This was eating in a Chinese restaurant on Chinese New Year’s, not eating a New Year meal.  The food was very good, especially since Scott came complete with recommendations from Yin as to what we would like.  Handy.

Frank, Warren, Tom, Scott and I were there.  We shared our steak kow, mongolian beef, lo mein, honey crusted walnut shrimp, pot stickers and a crumbly chicken dish whose name I can’t recall.  You put the chicken in a lettuce leaf, sort of like a taco.  All of them were tasty.

We spent a lot of time talking about grandkids.  Scott and I had a similar experience of five-year old grand-daughters who decided we were not “real” grandpop’s because we were not the biological father of their parent.  As with Ruth, this has passed in Scott’s case, too.

Tom has set up an intriguing question for our February 17th meeting:   What does it mean to be a male in our culture?  He has also asked that we bring three images of men that will start off our conversation.  I’ve got a few posted here, but as I’ve gone hunting for images it made me wonder if there is a book called the male image in art.  Lots of such books for females, many of nudes, but of men?  A quick google search in the books section shows none.  Probably are some, but that they’re not obvious says something.

Another thought that occurred to me, and it relates to third phase life for men, is this, what is our image of a man at home?  That is, beyond the guy with the fly-rod, golf club, barca-lounger, or woodshop.  And these are based on the silly, even pernicious idea of third phase life for men as the replacement of work hours with a favorite leisure activity.

With no positive image of a man at home it’s difficult to understand how to be at home when one has left traditional work life behind.

Guy Cred Lost

Imbolc                                                                         Valentine Moon

So much for solidarity with the grandkids.  The Broncos got broke by the Seahawks.  I missed it all.  May be slipping away from guy cred, I know. That’s Peyton Manning there on the ground next to that nasty hoss.

Instead, Kate and I finished the 10th episode of the 9th season of the British cold case series, the Waking Dead, the finish of the series. It took dedication, perseverance and stamina to watch them all, but we did it.  We’ll always have Waking the Dead.  But not Superbowl 48.

Mature Adults

Winter                                                                 Valentine Moon

Necessary but not necessarily pleasant work this morning.  Kate and I went through our health care directives, making sure they still reflected what we wanted.  Mostly.  We then read through our wills with a similar purpose in mind.  They’re seven years old.  We need to ask the boys what, if anything, they might want in our estate so we can enter that in a list for them.  We knew this seven years ago and somehow haven’t gotten around to it.  Is that Denial I hear rushing by?

We looked, too, at our trust instruments.  They, too, are mostly ok, but I still haven’t added Kate to our Vanguard account.  Again, I’ve had seven years to do it.  I promised I wouldn’t take any more than that amount of time before I got it done.

We also discussed funeral/celebration arrangements, coming to no firm conclusions, but with progress.  Asked some time ago to donate my body to medical science so they can investigate my inner-ear bones–no, seriously, I intend to but haven’t gotten around to filling out the forms.  Can you hear the beautiful blue Denial in the background?

After this we made a list of matters around the house that need attention.  We’ve lived here 20 years and though we’ve kept with major things:  new furnace, air conditioner, roof, siding, dishwasher for example, there are many smaller things.  Our outdoor trim needs painting and in some places replacement.  A lock here.  A light fixture there.  Handyman sort of things.  We have a guy.  A few garden things.  Laying down woodchips in the vegetable garden.  Pruning the orchard.  Javier work.

Painting living room, kitchen, hall and master suite plus repairing that settling crack we’ve had for, what?  20 years?  Finishing Touch painters.

Changing light bulbs and cleaning out the garage.  Kate and me.

After all this responsible adult stuff, we went for lunch at Azteca, our favorite Mexican joint.

Bonded, Dutiful

Winter                                                             Seed Catalog Moon

Kate and I talked about Denver, about the grandkids, about dogs, about our home here. 1000IMAG0466 We’ve decided, for now, to remain here.  When we’re down to one dog and/or, have smaller dogs, we might consider a move.  If we end up in a situation where we have to vacate this house for physical reasons, we might consider a move.

We also discussed ways we can be more actively engaged in our grandchildren’s lives over  a distance.  In the past we’ve said we want to see them at least four times a year for a week or so at a time.  The Stock Show, their birthdays, which, thankfully, are close together, a time in the summer and a time during Holiseason, Thanksgiving or Hanukkah for example.  We’ve done regular skype times, but those grew pro forma, too routine; so we need to come up with ways to communicate with them regularly, but in different ways.

As a man of German cultural influence (though with considerable Celtic influence, too), there is a strong sense of duty when it comes to family and it got triggered this last visit to 1000IMAG0475Colorado.  These kids are not just Jon and Jen’s responsibility, but mine, too.  Kate’s, too. While the American mobility patterns of the last few decades have separated us physically, the bonds are no less strong and no less real.

It’s up to Kate and me to figure how to remain in Gabe and Ruth’s life.  We’re not alone in this, I know.  Again, any thoughts from any of you out there will be appreciated.

 

Accentuating the Negative

Winter                                                            Seed Catalog Moon

Again the even heat is so fine.  Makes this feel like a work space instead of a commandeered backroom.

Most of the time today reading materials for the Climate Change MOOC and then listening a set of lectures by Richard Somerville.  He’s a theoretical meteorologist which means that his work includes creating and running weather prediction and climate models.  He is understandable and dispassionate.  And all the more troubling for it.

(this “ski slope” graph shows the rates at which emissions have to reduce when peak CO2 emissions happen on three different dates, one already past.  And we’re currently accelerating. again, see Great Wheel for particulars.)

It’s bugging me right now that I’m putting up all this negative information on Great Wheel, but the terrain ahead of us has become clearer and clearer the further I go in this course. The world needs to act soon and the developed world needs to show leadership.  The EU has committed to emission goals that will meet the challenges and they have more people and a larger economy than we have.  We need to act.

Then, we have to figure out the issue of sustainable development in the developing world, especially China and India, but in Brazil and Russia, too, the BRIC countries.  And we really don’t have much time.  In order to avert literal disaster (see Great Wheel for particulars) emissions worldwide have to peak no later than 2020 and begin then a very sharp reduction.  By very sharp reduction I mean getting to a world with 80% less carbon emissions before 2050.  80%!!!!!!!!!!!

This, the Great Work of Thomas Berry’s work of the same name, is one on which we cannot fail.  If we do, we consign our grandchildren (Ruth and Gabe) and their children to a world of currently unimaginable extremes in sea level rise, temperature, significant rainfall events, coral bleaching, ocean acidification and probably an increased severity of hurricanes and typhoons.  You wouldn’t want to live in this world and your children’s children won’t want to either.

Welcome Home

Winter                                                                  Seed Catalog Moon

-20.  That should be cold enough.  Felt good to come downstairs to an evenly heated 69 rather than the previous starts at 59 or 58.  The barometers pointed straight up and already at 30.75.  That’s pretty high.  Means a big cold front is here and likely to hang around for a while.

Being with Warren and Sheryl at the Dakota, listening to local jazz musicians felt like a welcome home.  Out with Kate and good friends, in the city.  One of the things I’d miss if we left.

Even the punishment of the cold last night.  A signal that this winter would be winter.  No, not all of them have been that way recently, but at least this one is and the further you go from here south the less likely this kind of weather is.  Ever.

On the other hand there’s Gabe, “Grandpop, would you write about baby animals?”  Ruth, “Don’t go, Grandpop.  Don’t go.”

 

 

Write About Baby Animals.

Winter                                           Seed Catalog Moon

Gabe, to whom I read some of my blog entry about our trip to the Children’s Museum, asked me, as we were walking away from the MLK Rodeo, “Grandpop, write about baby animals.  About how cute they are and how I love them.”  We’d just seen a Holstein and her calf bedded down for the night in a pen behind the Denver Coliseum.

This was our usually annual visit to the stock show.  (I missed last year with another round of doggy surgery and expense.)  We go walk through the exhibits, look at farm equipment, see livestock exhibitions, admire the Cinch cruel denim ads, the cowboy hats and boots for sale, the cattle stalls and leather vests.  One booth, Colorado Tanners, had hides  and pelts which could be made into anything you want.  Can’t forget the really big belt buckles, lots of’em.

It was busy this year because we came on MLK day.  In the past I’ve tried to hit weekdays when the crowds are smaller.  This time, though, I wanted to take the kids especially to the MLK rodeo with all African-American cowboys and cowgirls.  It was a good choice, as it turned out, but it meant the holiday crowds were there.

106 years old this is the largest stock in the world by number of animals involved.  It’s a big deal and people come from all over to participate.  I always see folks with Iowa State sweat-shirts, for example.

The rodeo announcer distinguished himself as a racist, saying, “There’s one thing about this crowd.  They’ve got rhythm.”  But worse, at another point, when a second announcer described a 24-year old cowgirl as looking 14, the announcer said, “But that never stopped you did it.”  This tarnished the event for me. Which is putting it mildly.

The events themselves though were good.  Calf-roping, considered a high art among the rodeo crowd, was good. (if you weren’t the calf.) So was the bronc-riding and the barrel racers.

When we got back to the hotel, Ruth grabbed me and said, “I don’t want you to go Grandpop.”  Gabe came around the car and gave me a big hug.  So did Jon and Jen.  It was family.  Three generations appreciating each other.  Wow.

DANK

Winter                                                               Seed Catalog Moon

Dank.  That’s the name of the place.  The medical dispensary that now has a retail recreational marijuana cash register, too.

This hidden store is in a setting of low warehouse and light manufacturing type buildings.  The brick exterior has no sign and the only evidence of its existence is a black and white piece of 8.5 by 11 taped to the window that says: Dank.  Keeping it kind.

Once inside the entry way there is a long hallway with office suites off to both sides.  Only at the far end of the hall, maybe 100 feet away is any human being evident..  Sure enough, DANK is the last office suite on the left.

A colorful sign advertising various forms of marijuana:  loose, baked, oil and kief (a product unfamiliar to me).

A guy in the required knit hat, ear buds and baggy sweater, a couple of days of growth says, “I have to check your I.D.”

As you might imagine, I gave him a look.  The gray-hair and wrinkles?  “Sorry, man.  The state requires it.  I know you’re more than 21.  But I have to check the expiration date.”  General laughter in the room.

Off to the right is a glass vitrine with three shelves holding hand blown pipes and bowls and bongs, artistic.  A roped walkway, ala security lines, held a dozen or so people, mostly young men in their twenties, but there was another older man like me and one woman.

At the end of the line were two cash registers flanking a glass display case with white chocolate with marijuana baked in, chocolate chip cookies, lighters, including a bic lighter, green and with DANK written over a marijuana leaf.  The cashiers served as marijuana sommeliers, answering questions about various strains like indica and sativa, prices per ounce.

To an old 60’s guy this was a scene resonant with memories of bags scored from furtive dealers, parties with just a hint of paranoia.  And here, in this state where my grandchildren live, and in a store not a mile from their home, people bought and sold grass.  Legally.

It was, as we might have said, a trip.

 

Bristling with Trailer Hitches

Winter                                                       Seed Catalog Moon

The parking lot here at the Best Western bristles with trailer hitches sticking out into the driving lanes from six wheel pickups.  The side streets have fifth wheel cattle and horse trailers lined up one after the other.  This is Stock Show time in Denver. Big belt buckles, boots and Stetson’s.

It’s also NFL title game weekend.  There are New England Patriot fans and their jerseys, Bronco fans and their orange.  Jon and Ruth took a couple of hours getting home from A-basin due to MLK holiday traffic.

Gabe’s stretched out on the bed watching a large fish and an absurd saggy breasted ballerina.  TV goes off at 9:00 pm.  Thank god.

Ruth and I will hit the Science Museum tomorrow morning and go to Steve’s Snapping Dogs for lunch.  I may miss most of the big game while I nap.

Tomorrow night we go to the Japanese restaurant, Domos.  This is a different Japanese experience, a country food menu.  Should be fun.

 

Hot Spots

Winter                                                               Seed Catalog Moon

 

They’re out there on the Front Range, glowing, hot centers of significance framed by the snow capped 14’ers and all the other young bloods of this lifted earth.  Grandchildren. There goes Gabe, moving quickly from train to train, watching for Thomas, looking for something maybe to pick up.  That one, the golden one, that’s Ruth.  She moves deliberately from sewing machine to science fair to art project, might stop by the kitchen to chop up some vegetables.  Or, she might do a stand-up comedy routine.

There are, you know, those maps of the earth at night, lights blazing, cities spreading out like neurons and dendrites.  That’s the way family and friends are.  Bright lights in the nightscape of our lives.  A bright light in Singapore.  Another near the Rub Al-Kahli, the vast sandy empty quarter in Saudi Arabia.  Even in the bright lights of New York there are two stronger ones.  North Carolina.  Indiana.  Oklahoma. Texas. California. Georgia. Mihailesti, Romania. Northern England.

They are visible in the infrared spectrum of the heart.  The heart gives us night vision to find those important to us, no matter where on the spinning globe they might be.