Ace Wisdom

I watched the movie “The Edge” recently starring Anthony Hopkins.  He is a billionaire businessman vacationing in Alaska.  He gets lost in the wild with his wife’s secret boyfriend.  In the movie the remark is made “never feel sorry for someone that owns an airplane”.

If you own your own personal jet, I guess that puts wealth in perspective.  There are many other things that people own or do that make it hard to feel sorry for them.

For example, never feel sorry for a person that owns a Mini-Cooper.

Never feel sorry for a person that travels to France so often she is known by her first name at the Eiffel Tower.

Never feel sorry that a man that owns a Checkmate boat that will go 92 miles per hour.

Never feel sorry for a man who has a roof that doesn’t leak.

Never feel sorry for a man that has an e-Bay account that is larger than the Gross National Product.

You get the idea.  There are lots of things to be thankful for which eliminates a pity party.  No feeling sorry for someone who has many blessings. 

So you ask, what things in my life would eliminate you feeling sorry for me?  Never feel sorry for me because I have my health.  Never feel sorry me because my kids don’t live at home.  Never feel sorry for me because I have been able to spend 50 years with a special person.

The lesson Grasshoppers is that we all have sh–y things in our life but they are balanced off by many blessings.  Never feel sorry for a person who has the ability to live life to it’s fullest.

Love,

Dad 

I saw a NBC news broadcast featuring an older man that had devoted his life to Chevy.  He had worked at a Chevy plant.  He restored Chevy antique cars.  He owned classic Chevys.  He was passionate about the most popular American car.

Growing up as a kid, our family did not have a lot of money.  It was the period after World War II and the U.S. car companies were beginning to crank out new models.  Our family was biased to GM products.  My Grandpa Chalk loved Buicks and my Dad bought used Cadillacs.

I remember sitting on the steps of the City Club and watching all the cars cruise the main drag.  My dream was to own a Chevy.  It was affordable and had a reputation for dependable engines.  Chrysler products (Plymouth, Dodge, DeSoto, and Chrysler) all burned oil and belched blue smoke out the tailpipe at 45,000 miles.  Ford was famous for carburator “vapor lock” which meant the butterfly choke would freeze in position and you couldn’t get your Ford started.

In the late 50’s and early 60’s, Chevy had a cheap Biscayne model with stick shift and cloth seats.  It was the entry level Chevy but with a good engine.  The next step up was the Bel-Air aimed at the average family.  Good value and more options.  And then, the top Chevy was the Impala.  It had power assists and a bigger engine.  Dual exhausts with modified Hollywood mufflers made the Impala sporty and cool.  I wanted to own a Chevy.

My first new car while working at Allis-Chalmers in Milwaukee was a 1965 dark blue Bel-Air.  It was a stick shift, V-8 with and AM radio.  No air-conditioning.  Very classy but a “yawner”.

Our family had Chevys for many years.  We owned a 1969 Impala wagon, a 1970 green Chevy Camaro (it was our second car) followed by a brown ’74 Chevy Wagon (named the Rusty Zipper for our CB radio) and 1976 white Camaro.  There were more Chevys with a with a Buick and several Oldsmobiles mixed in.

So you see, Chevy is deeply ingrained into my life fabric.  It is sad to see the Chevy icon slowly slip away.  Dinah Shore (a singer in the 50’s and 60’s) had a variety TV show sponsored by Chevrolet.  “See the U.S.A in your Chevrolet, America is asking you to call”.  Who can not remember that jingle?  I know, I know.  Who is Dinah Shore?

How many of you have not heard the phrase “motherhood, apple pie and Chevrolet”?

So when GM filed for bankruptcy yesterday a little bit of my childhood dream was shattered.  How could an automotive icon like Chevrolet be financially un-viable?

I guess I’ll just have to settle for my finely crafted machine from Bavaria and dream about days gone bye.  The lesson Grasshoppers is that nothing is forever and Chevy is a victim of poor management, worker greed, complacency and foreign competition.

My consolation is that our Government owns 60% of the new General Motors.  That makes all of us owners of the new Chevy products.  I think I’ll go to the next Stockholders meeting and share my ideas with management.  I plan to be an active owner.

Love,

Dad 

 

I’m a day late with this posting. Golf took priority. I played my first 18 holes of the year. The sun was shining and I only lost 2 balls. Luckily Grasshopper No.1 and family gave me new Nike balls for Christmas so the loss cost me nothing. I did have one memorable shot (the kind Grasshopper No.4) always complains about. I mis-hit a ball towards the water. It skimmed across and hit a rock on the other side of the creek. The ball bounced in the air, landed on the green and I made the putt for a birdie. Isn’t that what is supposed to happen?
May 28 marks my Dad’s birthday. He would have been 89. Theoretically he could still be here giving me fatherly advice. Hummmmm?
Grandson Mitchell in Madison has a brand new cast on his right arm. Something about a bike accident! The worst part is that his Mom was the first to sign his cast. It said something including “Love, Mom”. That is not something you show all the kids at school who also sign the cast. Life has it’s difficulties. Embarrassing.
There are two American car companies that are in bankruptcy (GM & Chrysler) and Ford is on life support. So I took inventory of the cars owned by our familes. I had trouble finding an American automobile.
Grasshopper No.5 has a Mini-Cooper made by BMW in Bavaria. Nope, no U.S. tag here.
Grasshopper No.4 owns one car, a Hyundai. I think it is Korean.
Grasshopper No. 3 has a Saab and his kids have a Honda and Volvo. I don’t see an American tag on any of them.
Grasshopper No.2 has a Nissan Murano. Japanese?
And then there is Grasshopper No.1 and Family with a Chevy and a Ford van. Finally loyally supportive to American products.
And of course your Mom drives a Camry (Japanese) and I have the BMW.
By my count, we have a total of 10 cars in the family, 8 are foreign models.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that people buy quality, dependable cars at fair prices. Our family car inventory supports that fact. American car makers have been out of touch with reality for years. So we the taxpayers, lend money to mis-managed companies in hope of saving the U.S. car manufacturing albatross(es). Kiss that money good-bye!
Love,
Dad

There have been many movie sequels, none more memorable than Freddie Krueger in the Elm street series. Freddie kept coming back to frighten everybody. Again, and again.
We had our own neighbor from Hell at Crystal Lake. His name was Floyd and he did anything he could to make life miserable. He threatened legal action when our pier allegedly blocked his view of the lake. He got the DNR to render an opinion against us. He planted trees on our lot line and he raked debris from his beach onto our lake frontage. He constantly sat in his cottage watching every move we made so he could police our actions. Bastard.
Apparently Floyd has a relative in Madison living behind Grasshopper No.2. For those of you who have visited her, her home sits on the narrowing piece of a “pie” shape and her back yard broadens out and slopes upward away from the home. The houses to the back are very high above her and have a view of the valley below. The problems is that Grasshopper No.2 has very little privacy. So she got a deal from a local tree nursery and planted 12-15 foot trees along a line well inside her back property line. Several neighbors behind her expressed displeasure because they just didn’t like the trees.
“Floyd II” lives in one house high on the hill behind. When Grasshopper No.2 was not home, Floyd II took it upon himself to trim down the tree tops bothering his view. So now Grasshopper No.2 has a line of trees with 3 trees shorter than the rest.
Obviously there is not going to be a lovefest with the “rear” neighbor (Floyd II). A police report has been filed because personal property has been damaged. I don’t think Floyd II has confessed or ever will. Maybe homeowner insurance will kick in but even if the three trees get replaced, what will prevent Floyd II from cropping the tree tops again. The fight is on!
The tragic part of the whole ordeal is that it makes life a constant battle. It is an ongoing negative. I know my spirits would drop when I knew Floyd was present at the lake.
The lesson Grasshoppers is you can’t choose your neighbors. If you encounter a reincarnation of Floyd from the cottage, don’t let the bastard wear you down. Exercise your legal rights.
Love,
Dad

I spent the week getting ready for the Memorial Day weekend at the cottage. I waxed the bottom of the Glastron boat and tomorrow I’ll launch it. Last weekend I put in the dock by myself. Where the hell were all our kids?
I turned on the water system for the summer several weeks ago. It took an hour to get the “sand point” system filtering good clean lake water. I mowed the grass, washed some windows and put screens on the doors and selective windows. Where the hell were our kids to help?
I went out to Menards to pick up extra life preservers, a fire extinquisher for the boat and some towing ropes for water skiing. I bought some things for smaller kids to play with like goggles for diving, floating toys, shovels/buckets along with some extra lawn chairs. Where were our kids to haul all this stuff home?
I just got back from taking the boat to gas station to fill the 20 gallon tank plus I filled up three auxillary gas cans. Did I mention a special trip to our local boat dealer to get outboard motor oil to mix with the gasoline. I don’t remember the correct ratio of gas to oil. Where were our kids to help?
As the cottage season begins, the refrigerator needs to be restocked. My trip to the grocery store includes pickles, ketchup, mustard, soda, buns, snacks and meat for grilling. I forgot the charcoal. I paid cash and my receipt says $235. Lots of bags. Lots of 6 packs of soda (and beer). I filled up the trunk of one car. Where were our kids?
Tomorrow morning we will all pile into the car with the boat hooked up behind and trek to the cottage. Everyone has a different intention for how the day will unfold. Did I mention that several kids brought friends to enjoy the weekend.
Can this be right. Tomorrow (Saturday) they are forecasting rain. Oh, sh–! There go the plans. The fantasy is in jeopardy. Wait, we’ll switch plans to Sunday. Oops! We can’t run our outboard motor boat on Sunday. Only sailboats are allowed. Then I remember we can run our motor boat on Sunday until the second weekend in June. This is getting complicated.
We arrive at the lake. Our neighbor Floyd has planted some trees on our lot line. Floyd also raked all his weeds and debris from his frontage onto our sandy beach. What a guy!
Undeterred we clean up the mess from Floyd, the boat fires up, kids jump into the water, brats hit the grill and the summer begins. Now I know where all the kids are. They are here!
By now you know I am only dreaming about days gone past. The cottage life represents a different fantasy for everyone. Despite all the preparation and work, we were lucky to have the special place with the best location on the lake. It was a fun time.
Wishing you an enjoyable (non-cottage) Memorial Day weekend.
Love,
Dad

Congratulations to Granddaughter Keely for graduating from FVTC on Sunday. Her business career is well on it’s way. Next on her agenda is two more years of school after which she will take the business world by storm.
I was recently talking to Grandson Grant about school and what kind of a job he might want in the future. He is good at math. It is obviously too early to be definitive but careers in electronics and engineering interest him a lot.
Many years ago, I was attending UW-Oshkosh (it was known at the time as Oshkosh State Teachers College). I was intending to major in mathematics with minor emphasis on chemistry and physics. The goal was to be a teacher because I am so patient with kids. Yeah, right!
I kind of knew that teaching was not my “thing” but I wasn’t sure about alternatives. Then came the decision to get married as I ended my second year at Oshkosh. My future father-in-law (Grandpa George) inquired whether I had ever considered a career in engineering. Having worked at his shop in the summer for several years, he knew my math skills. It turns out he and Nana were willing to help me to pursue engineering at Marquette. Suddenly in a matter of several days my teaching aspirations were “in the rear view mirror” and Marquette was bracing to accept the best engineering talent they had ever had. This “change of course” was George’s (and Nana’s) idea. All I remember is that the decision felt right. Engineers were in high demand and earned a pretty good starting salary (my first job was $570 per MONTH). Best of all I didn’t have to endure the bureaucracy of the school system and all the germ infested little darlings.
You never know when something is going to change your life path. In my case is was Grandpa George suggesting a different career option. I still wonder how my life would have turned out if I had stayed with the teaching curriculum at Oshkosh or if I had left school after two years to support my new family.
The lesson Grasshopper is that your world keeps changing and you never know when a life altering event is going to occur. Grab every opportunity you can.
Love,
Dad

I came across Margaret’s high school “letter jacket” with the numerals ’96 on the leather sleeve signifying the year she graduated. I didn’t realize dancing was an official sport? The Xavier letter is sewed on the front of the jacket with the word “Academics” proudly displayed.
As a kid in high school, I could not get a letter jacket until I earned my first athletic letter. This was a big deal especially if your Dad lived and breathed sports. You could earn a letter by playing 48 minutes of football during a season, 32 minutes of basketball or 9 innings of baseball. “Track” required winning a certain number of points awarded for first, second or third finishes. I wanted a jacket. It was a goal. It was a big deal. It confirmed that you were a “big jock on campus”.
If you earned a letter as a freshman, that was an incredible achievement. Almost nobody did that. Earning a letter as a sophomore was special. As a sophomore, I “started” on the football team as a defensive safety and an offensive end. I got my first letter in November of 1956. The letter entitled me to acquire a jacket which my parents gave me for Christmas. Plymouth was unorthodox because the “P” letter was sown on the back of the jacket rather than the front. The letter had a small symbolic football stitched into it indicating the sport in which it was earned. The next year our football team went undefeated so we got a big white football patch to sew on the front of the jacket with “Champions” embroidered within. Because it was my second consecutive football letter, I got to place two large stripes (like the military) under the football patch. My final football year, we again went undefeated and I got to place an updated football Champion patch on the jacket and a third stripe.
My jacket was becoming a major work of art. Something to be worn proudly around school. Now the irony. It was common practice to let your girl friend wear your jacket. So this “prize” that I had worked so had to earn ended up in the hands of your Mom. Hey, sharing my special jacket witht the special person in my life seemed appropriate. I went on to earn many other “letters” in basketball and baseball but the football jacket “creation” was always special.
Like so many things in life, my letter jacket just disappeared. It was in closets gathering dust and it got moved several times as I took different jobs. It was gone. The jacket is like my favorite high school convertible Oldsmobile. It would be nice for one day to drive that car again. It would be nice to wear the letter jacket one more time.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that there are things in life that seem important at the time. In the end it was the participation and the achievement that were important. The jacket just verified the endeavor. It was a testimony to my “ego”.
Wear your jackets proudly!
Love,
Dad