Ace Wisdom

It has always bothered me that I didn’t know more about George Andrews. Yep, there was a George in the “Andrews Family Tree”. My Grandpa Chalk (Bucky’s dad) died when he was 46. He had a stroke. I attribute his dying at an early age to many crude medical operations in the 1940’s on his knee. Grandpa Chalk’s formal name was Charles which is where I got my first name. Grandpa Chalk had one sibling brother named George who I think was slightly older.
George Andrews lived well into his 90’s. I don’t know if George made the century mark of 100 or not.
What has bothered me is how two brothers could have such different life spans. There was a undeniable brother similarity. George Andrews was full of energy and had a beautiful head of white hair (at this stage of my life, shades of gray blurr). I met George once or twice as a young kid when George was passing through Plymouth, Wisconsin. He would stop at the City Club to pay respects, tell a few stories and then he was gone. I remember a broad grin and an “Andrews bullshit factor” when he joked.
George was a lawyer which explains the bullshit factor. I think he got his law degree by attending school for 18 months in Denver, Colorado but that is a vague recollection. You didn’t need a lot of school to become accredited in the 1920’s. To my knowledge, he practiced law until he retired which would have been some time around 1965-70.
The last correspondence I had was from George W. Andrews (I always wondered what the “W” stood for) in Marion, Indiana. I think that is where he spent most of his life.
George tried to refer me to several people that had done a study in family history. He was very vague. The study went nowhere.
So one of the mysteries in my life is why two brothers (Chalk and George) lived such different life spans. I either am destined to live to 100 or die at 46. Wait a minute, I’m already past 46.
I have written many times about Grandma Myrna’s Family (Roberts) including trips to the homestead. The Andrews history is a little more vague.
So you see Grasshoppers, my life remains a mystery. There is much more I’d like to know about George.
Love,
Dad

It is not Christmas yet! The marketing promotions are already beginning and the first item that is sure to be in short supply is “laughing, giggling Elmo”. The doll sells for $40-45 and is available on ebay for $135. Is this a great country or what?
The current Elmo frenzy caused a friend to reminisce about a Christmas past. He was trying to buy a doll for his daughter (it probably wet the bed, barfed in your lap and giggled). They were in short supply and the chances of buying the doll were slim. Then, a store manager who knew he was looking for the doll, called my friend and indicated he had a doll he could buy. My friend had to drive to the store, enter through the back door and go directly to a special office. Very mysterious. The doll was in a paper bag so that nobody could identify it and the exchange took place for cash. All the way home this friend felt fantastic. He had done it. He had procured the ultimate Christmas present. He could just imagine the look on his daughter’s face on Christmas morning. He would be her hero. What a special feeling my friend had? He had pulled off the impossible.
On Christmas morning when the doll was unwrapped, my friend said his daughter was delighted and there was a flurry of loving exchanges (thank you Dad, you know) and then the doll was set aside while she opened other packages. So much for being special. The doll was just one of many Christmas presents.
When asked what happened to the doll, my friend said it is in a box in the attic in almost “mint condition”.
There is an exhuberant giddiness that goes with the search for that special thing that is sure to please the recipient. We’ve all done it. Then there is the anticipation of the moment that the gift is presented and the gleefull look in the eyes of the recipient. Ah, the gratification.
I am reminded of gifts that were special in our family. Cabbage Patch dolls were difficult purchases. I think they all had registered names. Does anybody remember Cabbage Patch?
The first Christmas we were in Milwaukee in 1963, I had been employed for 6 months and we were destitute (no money, Honey). The offerings under the Christmas tree were sparse and there were two little daughters who deserved more. I remember taking $20 out of our savings account which essentially wiped out our savings. The money was spent to buy a dolls for Grasshopper 1 and Grasshopper 2. They were very young at the time so they had no idea of the sacrafice that went into the dolls. That is not important. The gift generated that special feeling that goes with trying to please someone you love.
Here is wishing you that special joy that goes with finding the gift that is sure to please (regardless of how much dust the gift collects later on)!
Love,
Dad

Grasshopper No. 4 is exhuberant about football. If you read his recent blogs, he couldn’t wait until football season arrived. I mean, football at all levels. UW Badger football. High School football. Pre-high school football. Yep, even excitement for the Green Bay Packers who have sunk to an all time low. It almost makes you feel like you should pound your chest in some sort of a primal fashion.
Subconsciously I think Grasshopper No. 4 having two sons ages 8 and 5 might enter into the equation. I know my Dad was obsessed with all sports especially baseball. He could teach his sons baseball and suck up the ambiance that goes with the sport. Kind of like reliving your childhood.
Well, last year Coach P (My name for Grasshopper number 4) was encouraged to help coach in a youth football league in Sheboygan for ages 10-14. Coach P ventured forth cautiously. He attended a few practices after school and pretty soon he was designing plays for the kids. I think by the end of the first year, his stint as assistant coach was successful and the team won or tied for the championship. The reward was pizza.
Coach P told me the key to success was “keep it simple”. He installed 3-4 plays total. You know. Run left real fast. Throw to the right to your own man. Not many plays because it just creates confustion. I was proud of Coach P because he listened to his Dad who constantly preaches, keep things simple.
So this year brings more insight. This year is he is the “offensive coordinator” for the Sheboygan Badgers. Listen to this. They have a draft for all players in the league. A special meeting is held and the equivalent of an NFL draft is held. When I was a kid, we just “chose of sides”. This formal draft is an excuse for a boys night out so coaches can talk smart, drink beer and talk trash before the season starts.
Coach P helped draft players of choice and you can imagine the dreams. Lots of touchdowns. Undefeated season. A parade down 8th street in Sheboygan in open top convertibles. You get the idea.
The first game came and went. The Badgers were driving for a touchdown when time ran out. The Badgers lost their first game. The potential was just beginning to show and they probably wouldn’t lose another game all year.
Then Coach P turned up the intensity to tried to inspire the troops. Game two was exciting but the Badgers lost again. Whoops, 0-2. Hey, the season was still young.
Game three was a good effort but it was a losing effort. I think that makes it 0-3.
In talking to Coach P, he is undeterred. This group of boys has tremendous potential and they have been victims of bad luck. They should go the rest of the season undefeated. Right!
My take on the whole coaching endeavor is that Coach P let the “keep it simple” theme get away. The Badgers are up to 10-12 plays. These are kids with the short attention spans. I think one play should suffice, maybe two. Play number one should be run straight ahead real fast. Maybe play number two should be pass down the field straight ahead to your own team mate (make sure they remember “to your own teammate”). That’s it! Get back to basics.
NFL players have trouble with complexity of plays. Lombardi was upset with a team performance so he came to practice and told the players they were getting back to basics. Lombardi held up the football for all to see and said “men, this is a football”. Max Magee responding with “slowdown coach, you are going to fast”. Jeepers Coach P, it NFL players don’t recognize a football, don’t you think 10 plays is a bit much.
This whole process is fun to watch. There are dreams. There are disappointments. There are great performances. Teaching is constant. Hey it is like a slice of life.
A applaud Coach P. There is always next season.
Love,
Dad

A recent family visit brought back memories of trips to “Great Grandma Roberts” farm in Mukwanago, Wisconsin. It was located somewhere northwest of Milwaukee near West Bend. Follow me now! My Dad’s mother was Myrna Andrews (whose maiden name was Roberts). Myrna’s parents were John and Mary Roberts of Mukwanago, Wisconsin. So I traveled many times from Plymouth, Wisconsin with my Dad and Myrna to visit the “old homestead”. It was wierd because as we approached the farm property, we had to turn onto an old country road with rutty grooves and grass growing between the tire ruts. It was hard to see the farm house from the road. So we would traverse through a field on the rutty road. And then, you would begin driving through a second field on another rutty road and finally pull up to a square two story farm house (I think it had a slate outside) that was getting old and weathered. Most trips occurred when I was between 8-14 years old.
These were obligatory trips. John and Mary Roberts still had milk cows and Myrna’s younger brother, Evertt lived with his parents. Evertt had contracted parkinson’s disease at age 20 and his muscle control slowly deteriorated over time. He would hold his right arm in front of him waist high and it would continually shake. As a kid, it is hard to understand the full impact of the disease. I think Evertt lived into his 40’s.
A day on the farm was “old people” sitting around talking about the old days. The kitchen had a wood stove so there was a constant smell of burnt wood and ashes (something like a dirty fireplace). There always seemed to be something good to eat. I remember bread. The smell of baking bread. There were porches on all sides of the farm house with rocking chairs.
Chickens were always prancing around the yard. Lots of black and white speckled chickens. I’m sure many graced the wood burning kitchen stove.
Milk cows were in the fields. To keep me busy, they would send me out to bring in the cows for evening milking. It wasn’t a big deal. Open a fence gate to let the cows find their own way back to the barn. My memory of the hilly cow pasture is vivid.
There was a rickety old windmill not far from the house. I don’t know if it was for electricty or pumping water. It had a metal ladder that I remember scaling a couple times.
For a kid, a day on the farm was kind of boring but it was a look back a a simpler life. It was filled with simple values. Hard work. Respect. Patience. Imagine that!
My Dad’s brother Bob recently mentioned that he and Bucky would go down to the farm for part of each summer. I’m sure his “take” on the farm is much different than mine with much more insight. My peek into days gone by were a privlege and as I’ve gotten older, I appreciate the experience of a day in Mukwanago.
Love,
Dad

First, today marks the anniversary of a very important event in my life. My life turned on this date. It was the first day at Marquette University School of Engineering in 1960. Oh yeah, there was another event. Grasshopper No. 1 was born this date. It was an interesting day. Happy birthday Debs.
There are times that I get “smitten” by interesting people. They do something special or unique that sets them apart. In this case I can think of three people that recently caught my interesting.
The first of Lena Lamont. She was the star of a play in Minneapolis called Singin’ in the Rain. She had a tall gorgeous body. And then, she opened her mouth. Her voice was high pitched and very irritating. She could be a trophy girlfriend as long as she agreed not to open her mouth. Grasshopper No. 5 can immitate Lena very well. Lena kind of stays in your head. The voice didn’t match the body expectations.
Then there was Garrison Keillor. Your mom and I went to see the movie “Prairie Home Companion”. It is a tribute to the radio program that has been on the air in Minnesota and North Dakota for years. Garrison in the writer, director and moderator of the program every Saturday. Garrison in 6-5 inches tall and looks like he is kind of dopey. You sometimes think that he is out of touch with the world when he is not “on stage” but then when the lights come on and he begins to do the show, he comes alive. He is witty. He is in control. He is a good singer. He is a good story teller. He is very different from what you anticipate he would be. Turns out he writes political opinions for some larger newspapers. Very interesting. His appearance is very different from who he is. Go figure.
Finally, I was coerced in to watching “Dancing With the Stars” last Tuesday night. I have to admit that my interest was tweeked by Emmitt Smith being a contestant. Emmitt as you all know was a running back for the Dallas Cowboys football team in the NFL. He played 17 years and his teams won 4 Super Bowls. He was tough. He was chiseled granite. He ran over people. My anticipation was that he would be stiff and probably not a very good dancer. Emmitt was fantastic. He is muscular, taller than I thought with the cutest little smile you could every imagine. He has rhythm. Of course his dancing partner was exciting too, but the two of them dazzled the audience to a rendition “Her Daddy was a Preacher Man”. Emmitt’s performance blew me away. He was fun to watch. Again, go figure.
I guess the lesson is that people come in all sorts of interesting packages at unexpected times and you should enjoy the moment when they do.
Love,
Dad

Control That thing that other people try to do to us! It is an artform and some folks are pretty good at it.
Grasshopper No. 5 wrote an article for the Star Tribune website in Minneapolis on how she “controlled” her parents the last time they were in town. Does she realize she was dealing with the King of Control, the Master of Manipulation or simply her Dad.
She indicates that she showed just enough of her life to satisfy her parents. Who is she kidding? Her parents are pretty perceptive on where she lives, where she spends her time and who her friends are. Grasshopper No. 5 can’t hide her life. She thought she was in control. Ha.
Then she took her parents to a pricey dinner theater that she indicates is for old people. I looked around the theater and I saw lots of young people. They can’t all be appeasing their parents. The play was “Singing In the Rain” and it had a squeeky voiced star named Lena Lamont. Guess who can imitate Lena to the very high pitch range. Come on admit it Grasshopper No. 5. You really wanted to see the play and it was really enjoyable. You can’t blaime your parents for forcing you to the theater. Come on now. Ha.
I did want to mention that we kept seeing the same thing that we’ve seen the last 3-4 times we’ve been in Minneapolis. It does get kind of boring. I thought that young people never forget. Can’t you find something new to drive us past? I guess as long as she was showing us something, she had control! Really? Ha.
The restaurants were all good. I will say that Grasshopper No. 5 was in control of the food agenda. Dining was kind of a mutually agreed effort but in the end we had to trust her suggestions. For a brief moment, she was in control. Mercy, mercy!
We were directed to a motel near Grasshoppers alleged living quarters. She didn’t want us to be in her space. We got the hint. You know, dump your parents into this pricey facility and then join them when she got time. Control, control, control. The reality is that we needed our space. We insisted on our own “digs” so that we could control how we used our time. Ha.
Does Grasshopper think she really needs to arrange our exercise program. She was trying to manipulate an expert. Ha.
Control is a funny thing. Are you the controller or the controllee. You decide. Do you think Grasshopper No. 5 was in control or your Dad? Ha.
A good time was had by all regardless of who controlled who. We will venture to the “Uuupper country” again some day. It is a nice place to visit!
Love,
Dad

A “home” is defined as the place where one lives. Yep, that is true but it so much more. It is an emotional safe haven. You decide what goes on in your house. The house embodies dreams for marriage, kids and entertainment. When the whole world turns to sh–, going home is a “warm hug”.
Now the financial side of the issue. Normally there is an initial mortgage that follows a down payment. Most mortgages are for 30 years. Each year that goes by, your equity in the house increases. Equity improvement is slow in the early years of a mortgage payment schedule but you have the option of accelerating reduction of the loan principle (so your equity goes up). The silver lining to this whole issue is that most homes increase in value by following inflation increasing your equity holding also. The jackpot is when you happen to have a home in an area where people are rushing to live such as Silicon Valley in California, Phoenix, Arizona and Naples, Florida.
My advice Grasshoppers is that you shouldn’t risk the equity you are building in your home. It represents your biggest financial asset. It gives you financial stability. It is your special place. It is the one place in the world, no-one can tell you what to do.
Why this rant! More and more people are tapping home equity because it seems to be cheap money. From a pure financial perspective, a home equity loan (creating a 2nd mortgage) can have an attractive interest rate and is tax deductible on your year end income taxes. Suddenly your home equity is gone! You’ve got another payment! The bank has really become your “Daddy now”. In a worse case scenerio, if you miss several payments on your home equity loan, you could be living a homeless shelter.
Don’t do it! Don’t tap your home equity. You are screwing with the emotional core of your family. Why do that? Did anyone ever hear of saving? If you need money, save up for the expense.
It is true, a man’s home is is castle (as humble as it may be).
Love,
Dad

In the mid-1970’s, the three oldest Grasshoppers got interested in “marching bands”. Many Sundays in the summer were spent by Mom and myself sitting on street curbing along many main streets in northeast Wisconsin watching The Elms Band and The Top Hats. I know that Paul accompanied us to many parades. Paul’s biggest activity was picking up all the bubble gum, suckers, candy and balloons that were thrown off the floats. I don’t know if Margaret ever joined in the frivolity.
It started with the Elms Band. I know that Debs and Kelly were in the Elms band. Kelly played the trombone. Debs was in the color guard and I think played some percussion instruments. The Elms Band was more traditional with the emphasis on music and color guard. I don’t know if Christopher played in the Elms. I do know there were lots of friendships created within the band. One of the Grasshoppers took my white camaro one night and got arrested for throwing raw eggs out the window at the car of another member of the Elms Band. Ah, maturity reined supreme.
Then there were the Top Hats. This was a more competitive unit with an emphasis on marching including snappy mini performances in the parade. I believe they competed at some of the picnics that against other marching units. There was some serious competition. I know that Chris played drums and Shelby Jr. marched. Shelby Jr. marched? Yep! I don’t know if Shelby Jr. played an instrument. There was one year where Chris was voted top male performer and Shelby Jr. top female performer. I think Debs also marched in the Top Hats. I remember a black and white outfit.
Chris would practice drums on a “special pad” during the week and then if was off to the Sunday performances. I do remember that every parent of a Top Hat performer had to accompany the band troupe to one city during the summer and actually walk along side the band. The purpose was to help any band member suffering from heat or dropping their drum sticks. That is right! Your mom and I marched with the Top Hats in Kiel and I remember picking up more than one drum stick. What a Dad! What a Mom!
The parades were almost always on Sunday and within a 30-40 miles radius of Sheboygan. I know there were some longer trips but I don’t think we followed the few that were taken. It was Mom, Dad, little Paul and many times Nana and Grandpa.
Paul could not tolerate the shrill whistles put out by old steam engines. Grandpa George grew up around steam locomotives and couldn’t wait unitl the old steam engines came by. I know that mom would cover Paul’s ears and rush him away from the parade route. This is a kid that would play music in his bedroom 12-14 years later that was so loud, it shook the house. Go figure.
The bands, the marching, the horns, the drums and the colorful outfits made Sunday parades an event in our life for some precious years. There are good memories. My guess is that the three older Grasshoppers have better memories.
Love,
Dad

Wausau is close to the tundra. You’d think that it would be the healthiest place in the world. Cold maybe, but healthy. Lately I don’t know. Maybe there is something in the water. It is a good thing I drink Diet Coke.
Ever since Debs moved to Wausau to begin a life of wedded bliss, both her and Tom have been struggling with problems. First it was strep throat for Debs followed with a really bad case of pnemonia. Then they discovered an abnormal beating of the heart so they are going to stop Debs heart for a moment (I think Thursday of this week) and then restart it to regain a normal rythym. I guess we all experience sicknes issues, but it seems like a lot for Debs.
The story doesn’t end there. I haven’t even begun with Tom. First he breaks 6 bones in his foot and they also discover a dislocation in the foot. Did I mention cellulitis. They administered anti-biotics for the cellulitis. Then there was a fever followed by regurgitating blood. A trip to the hospital discovered his cellulitis was worse than expected so they increased the dose of anti-biotics. He became delirious. His kidneys shut down. Now they have switched the anti-biotics because they figure he was allergic to the first treatment. They have to do a dialysis of the kidneys to treat the blood because the kidneys clearly aren’t doing their job. The prognosis is still very positive but it sounds like a lengthy stay in the hospital for Tom.
I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I think it is the water. What else could it be. Two healthy people. Newlyweds looking forward to a bright future. Yep, I think it is the water.
Get well everyone. This could get expensive.
Love,
Dad

I saw a special on TV the other night that discussed the ways our world could end. No it is not Mexican immigrants flooding across our borders!
First there is a bombardment of Gamma Rays from an exploding star that would kill all living things. I guess it would be like radiation poisoning. Then there is having our planet get sucked into a black hole. If that doesn’t rattle your cage, you can envision getting hit by an astoroid. If that is not enough, a release of the wrong bacteria could do us in. You get the idea. Lots of things to worry about. Lots of things that we couldn’t change it we tried.
Now to important things. My water heater crapped out. Some water on the floor. Not too bad! We caught it early. A plumber friend of Chris was here in 30 minutes to give us a quote on an 80 gallon water heater. Most houses have a 40 gallon heater but because we have a whirlpool tub, we need the biggest one. The next morning we had two guys dressed in identical blue t-shirts (you know this is going to be expensive) taking out our old unit (it lasted one more day than the warranty) and putting in a new A.O. Smith “big” heater. Problem solved. It only cost a tad over $1000. I call these problems “aw shit” problems. You have no control. Fortunately we got fast service.
My point in this rambling is that somewhere between contemplating how the earth might end versus getting my water heater replaced is reality. Somehow I can relate to the water heater problem because it is current and real. Besides, have you tried taking a shower with cold water.
I need to postphone worry about how the world will end. I’ve got golf Monday morning! Important things first.
My lesson is Grasshoppers is “worry about the things you can do something about”. Screw the rest!
Love,
Dad