SO LONG OLD FRIEND

It's a sad day when you wake up knowing today you will lose an old friend. Today was the day. We sat across the street and watched it happen, in the shade of a neighbor's tree. My neighbor later remarked how ironic THAT was. Mary said "bloody murder". It had to be done. It was the tree or the house. A tough choice to make. The tree was doing it's best to combine the both in to a tree-house and maybe save us from having to make that choice, but unfortunately it's roots never quite got with the program. We could no longer live in harmony. So with the buzz of chainsaws and the rumbling hum of diesel motors as it's Funeral Durge it fell. We left it's stump as the grave marker. Here stood a mighty warrior. So long old friend.

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DIXIE HIGH-LITES!

Well yet another GREAT year for Emily at Dixie High School - home of the Rebels! Yes, Emily is a REBEL (makes me laugh every time) and VERY proud of her school! She pretty much knows everybody on the campus now and loves being involved in all the activities. In everything from recycling to their play THE WIZARD OF OZ Emily gives her all and her enthusiam is infectious! Great job this year EM!

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FRIENDS IN HIGH PLACES!

Our family from "way up north" came for a visit this past week (the week where most of the county was being blanketed in snow) and even though it was a little chilly here our hearts were warmed! Guy, Nicki & Sonia can do that for you. Their good spirits and love for each other are always welcome during the cold bitter months (50 degrees) and their visit usually ushers in the spring. This year was no exception. We took advantage of the beautiful weather and headed out to our local theme park Busch Gardens for a day food, fun and roller coasters. HOLY CRAP those Canadians like to ride...and what a day for it too! The crowds were light and the rides were fast and if we happened to lose them all we had to do was look up!

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GREAT GRAMMA VI

Mary's grandmother Viola passed away Tuesday. She was 93. We were fortunate to visit with her this summer in CT. It was a brief but very special visit. Kurt, Mary's brother was there. Kurt was Viola's first grandchild. First of 11. And our daughter Emily was there as well. Emily was Viola's first great grandchild. First of 10.

I remember when Emily was born Viola rode the train through the night all the way from CT to Florida to see her in the hospital. Emily was so sick Viola feared this was her only chance to see her. She arrived in the morning, visited with Emily, had lunch with us and boarded the train back to CT that afternoon. To this day this still amazes me. A very long trip for her and she was what, 73 at the time? Family was very important to her.

Viola had 6 children. Mary's father Paul was her oldest and only son. We felt so sad that she had to bear the grief of losing Paul last month. She loved him dearly. The black and white photo is of Viola holding her son Paul many, many years ago...I saw the photo today and had to share it with you. They are both gone now…they left together.

RAINING CATS AND CHICKENS!

Hurricane Sandy is out there in the Atlantic and here and home it's raining Cats and Chickens! Better get an umbrella! ENJOY THE PICTURES!

SWEPT UP!

"Let's go see the protesters" she says.
How often does a thing like this happen in your city? The city you call your home? The RNC was in town and having their gala cocktail party right down the street from where we rest our heads at night. A place we around here call "The Dome". Tropicana Field. Home of the Rays. And the zone for those who wish to protest was set up exactly one mile away at Mirror Lake. Mirror lake reflects the city in many ways. Green benches, the homeless, shuffleboard courts, the public library and several county and state buildings. City hall even has a view of it. In fact Mary and I were married in the Clerk of the Court building right on Mirror Lake Drive. This is our home. There was no way we weren't going.
"It'll be fun" she says.
We got down there. We must have been early. No one there except for us and the law. And many many orange barrel cones diverting all traffic from the lake. A light rain was falling. Did I mention that Tropical Storm Issac was out in the Gulf? Was the protest called on account of rain? Law enforcement did not seem to care. They made their presence known down there. We found a spot to park. Tucked in behind several city vehicles. Hope we don't get towed. We walked down to the lake. The lake was looking good. All the trees recently trimmed. Grass cut. Homeless nowhere to be seen. Why no homeless? And look, today they even have port-a-pottys! And sinks!
"Where are the protesters?" she asked.
"Let's get some lunch"
We walked up Central Ave looking for something to eat. Maybe after lunch things will pick up.
By the time we got back down there the show had started. Mostly locals at this point. We had a seat on the curb and watched the gathering. Out came the guitar and the sound system. The wind gusted and a light rain was falling. More had arrived. The protest songs had started.We got on our feet and began to mingle. People seemed to be coming in from all angles. This was happening now. Leaflets being passed out. The streets filled. The Songwriter gave way to the Speechmaker who was magically elevated above the crowd. I looked. It was made of metal, had handles on the side but I had no doubt that the logo read "Soapbox". It was official. This was a protest. And we were standing smack-dab in the middle of it.
"Are we marching?" she asked
Yes, yes we were. Swept up. Marching on the streets of our own city with people we didn't know. Drums beating. Whistles blowing. It felt good. It felt really good. I made eye contact with an older man wearing a "Retired Army" hat and looking very intense. Excitedly he yelled across the crowd to me "This is what democracy looks like!" I agreed. And as we turned the corner and my feet hit Ninth Street, my street, the street where we had lived for so many years I had a lump in my throat. This was MY town! I was marching down MY street in MY town! I held my head high with a big smile on my face and marched on.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
We found it amusing that before the actual "marching" part of the protest police were handing out pamphlets with the "parade route" on it, like you might get lost following hundreds of people through the cordoned off streets. I dug it out of my pocket though, just to be sure we weren't marching off to our doom. The Dome was our destination. The RNC cocktail party.
As we turned the corner and headed down the dead-end street towards The Dome I felt a little uneasy. The usual parade barricades had given way to tall prison-like fences topped with barbed wire. Behind them were mounted police and they did not look happy atop their horses, sitting there in the steady rain. We were near the back of the group. I turned around to see a large group of officers closing off the road behind us. They had us penned in. The protest march had come to a halt. The drums began to beat louder. People began to climb the fences, shouting at The Dome. There was no one there to hear except the ever-building police force. Something felt wrong. Something was going to happen.
"You wanna go?" she asked.
And just that quickly the mood changed. I looked behind us and the police had all but left, no longer blocking us in. The rain picked up. People climbed down off the fences and began to walk away. Even the media-types were heading for their trucks. This was over. I looked around at where I was. Standing in the rain on the streets of my town. Tired from walking and still a long way to go to get home. Feeling good though. Feeling very good. We had been through something special together.
"Well that was fun" she said. "Let's go home"

Here are THE PICTURES

THE BEACH AND THE BUS!

As sure as summer vacation begins it also ends. It is NEVER a happy day around here (unless you are Emily who absolutely LOVES school) and we try to squeeze the most out of every moment. The past two weeks were spent out on Treasure Island Beach and camping at Fort Desoto. We saw many old friends and made some new ones. Good food, good music and yes, even some good fishing! And as the sun sets on another summer we invite you to ENJOY THE PICTURES!

OUR STRATFORD VISIT? A DAY AT THE BEACH!

Stratford, Ct. We visit there every other year or so. Most of Mary's extended family lives up there. Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins...you get the picture. There is a lot of love up there and we tried like hell to stay in the arms of that love, but you can't have the Ying without the Yang. And there was a lot of Yang this time.

We laughed and we cried but most importantly we did it all together. Bonds were made stronger and memories were made. Happy memories like a day at Short Beach...ENJOY THE PICS! 

NEW JERSEY PARADISE!

We set off this summer to the uncharted land of New Jersey to visit Mary's friend Tracy and her family. The only thing I had ever heard about New Jersey was that old joke "What exit?" and something about the Blair Witch being pregnant...or was that Snookie? The plan was to drive as far as Philadelphia the first night, get a room and get an original Philly Cheese Steak. We made it to Philly. While driving down Market Street towards downtown we realized this was a mistake. They actually parallel park IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD. Our Garmin GPS lady (let's call her "Bitcherella") started screaming "ReCALculating" as traffic was diverted around Penn Square. Saw a statue of some guy as we NASCAR-ED our way around the square in the LEFT lane, then Bitcherella screams "TURN RIGHT!" Around the square we went again. Statue of some guy again, who the hell was that anyway? "In POINT 2 MILES turn LEFT then...RIGHT...reCALculating!" Got in right lane this time. Stuck behind a bus. Don't you say it, Bitcherella...just don't you..."TURN LEFT...reCALculating!"

We never got that room. We ended up at a Holiday Inn Express just off the Jersey turnpike. What exit? Ask Bitcherella. I'm sure she knows. We weren't on speaking terms.

The next day was completely different. Dug Bitcherella out of the glove box. She muttered something but did her job flawlessly. The drive from the hotel to Tracy's was a two lane pleasure cruise through the woods. Mary saw a deer and her fawn just off the road. The sun was shining. The birds were chirping. This was what vacations were supposed to be like. I felt the stress melt away. Bass River Township. What could be more relaxing than that? When we arrived at Tracy's house, at the end of a quiet wooded cul-de-sac I knew this was going to be one of those memory-making weekends. Two nights in paradise.

We ate, we drank, we swam in their pool, jumped on their trampoline and laughed until our stomachs hurt. We took a day trip to Atlantic City and walked the boardwalk. We ate until we exploded at their restaurant out on Long Beach Island where I FINALLY got my cheese steak! We had a great time. It all went by way too fast! Tracy and her husband Tony and their daughters Bella and Cetta treated us like family. THANK YOU! You truly have found paradise in New Jersey!

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LESSONS OF THE ROAD - LOST AND FOUND

We all remember that first summer after graduating high school. For me it was a magical summer filled with endless possibilities of the what lay on the road ahead. The beginning of the journey in to independence and adulthood. Some plan summers trekking through foreign countries. Some can't wait to start their careers working a new job. Some just breathe a heavy sigh and enjoy the sense of accomplishment that graduating brings.

For my son Casey his summer began with a short family road trip to North Carolina to visit his grandfather who had recently been diagnosed with terminal cancer. To know Casey is to know that the decision to take this trip was a no-brainer. He is compassionate to a fault and would not miss the opportunity to spend time with his grandfather. This was also the trip where he would get to log some serious hi way miles and learn how to navigate I95's endless stream of cars and 18-wheelers. A necessary skill for the new road traveler. When we finally had enough for one day Casey pulled off the highway in Florence, SC and found us a Hampton Inn & Suites which has been our preferred rest stop oasis on our road trips. Always a friendly staff. Always clean rooms and always a pool to relax and have a drink by. And in the morning we all usually get up early enough to enjoy the breakfast that is included with the stay. On this day Casey was slow getting up and had to eat alone. We were on a tight schedule to get to North Carolina in time to pick up his aunt and cousin at the airport who were arriving from Montreal. We left the hotel in a hurry. And when that happens usually something get forgotten. This time it was Casey's wallet and keys.

The weekend went well. We spent most of the time at his grandfather's house. Casey was a good sport about sleeping in the living room on the blow up mattress. He was a good sport about entertaining his 5 year old cousin. He was a good sport about watching 3 different auto races, a passion that both his grandfather and I share. I know he must have been bored but he didn't show it. He knew how important this visit was. It came time to say goodbye and he shook is grandfather's hand and pulled him in for a hug. This was the moment he took the trip for. The contact between generations. So it was no surprise that when Casey noticed his wallet missing on the drive back that it was his grandfather that searched his house high and low for it, but to no avail.

It dawned on Casey that the last place he saw his wallet was next to the bed in the hotel room. We called the hotel from the road. They said nothing was turned in. This was already 3 days ago. Even so, we were going to drive right by the hotel on the way back so we decided to stop and talk to them in person. They let us search the room but as we figured it was already gone. Casey did a mental inventory of the contents of his wallet. His driver's license. His voter ID card. A 50 dollar bill I had given him for helping me mow lawns before we left. And as a recent graduate he had several gifts cards from friends and family. One of the gift cards was for $100 from his aunt in California that he hadn't even used yet. Maybe his aunt would still have the receipt and she could call and cancel the card. He might at least get that back. His aunt called back with news that the card was used and only 17 cents remained. All of it spent in the Florence area and all on the day we checked out. It was an American Express gift card. They had all of the locations and amounts of the transactions for us. We figure it went something like this...

    "The maid found the wallet. Her lucky day! After work her first stop was KFC for lots of chicken, almost 30 bucks worth! Then the convenience store for beer and cigarettes, Piggly Wiggly for some groceries and finally top off the tank at Sunoco. Woohoo! Not to mention whatever she did with the 50 dollar bill. It was Friday and time to party!"

The usually mild-mannered Casey was very angry with this. First, angry at himself for forgetting the wallet then angry that someone could do this. The hotel manager was called. The police report was filed. But Casey knew in his heart that this may very well be the end of it. No justice for the graduate. Lessons of the Road.

We drove on to Georgia and when we had had enough, pulled off the road and stayed at yet another Hampton Inn. Friendly Staff. Clean Rooms. But no longer the oasis it once was. We took our time the next morning. All eating together. No hurry. Nothing forgotten. We drove on through tropical storm Debbie and made it home. Home is good for Casey. And just as he had left his wallet behind on the road he left his anger there, too.

I called his grandfather and told him to call off the search. The wallet never made it to North Carolina. He was sad to hear that and asked me to tell Casey that he was sorry. He thanked us for our visit. He said that he felt better than he has felt in a long, long time.

What Casey left behind in that hotel room in may be lost, but the love he left behind for his grandfather was found.