Ace Wisdom

Grasshopper No.5 would have had a “Kodak moment” this morning with her cameras.  I came home from my daily workout routine and upon entering our driveway, I noticed a large hawk (and I mean large) sitting on top of the basketball backboard.  He was looking right down at me.  He was black with lots of white interspersed.  The car motion didn’t scare him and after I parked the car, I looked up at him and we had a staring contest.  He gave me the claw (translation is the finger).  My only conclusion was that he was there to greet me and send me a sign.  I don’t think it was about me.  The hawk had a rabbit, a mouse or mole in his sights and he was waiting to pounce.  Then again, maybe it was a sign.  He was a magnificent bird.

I notice that a black Saab 9.5 sport wagon (2003) is for sale in the local newspaper.  I sold the same type car to Grasshopper No.3 several years ago and I know he treasures it.  Wait!  Could Grasshopper No.3 be selling the treasure?

Grasshopper No.5 allegedly is circling the area this weekend to attend a wedding.  We’ll have to see if she remembers her roots.

Some of the Obama money is making it to Sheboygan.  There is a home that qualifies for energy “make-over” with a low rate loan.  It includes energy efficient windows, doors, garage doors, siding and flat roofs.  When we Americans fund energy programs with our tax bills, we do it right!  The program is right up there with “cash for clunkers”.

I am eating grape sized tomatoes from the garden of Grasshopper No.1.  They are home grown, they are delicious and best of all they are free.

Football is starting.  Lots of practice.  Pre-season games!  Best of all Favre is back and all is well in Minneapolis.  Now all we have to do is figure out who is running the Vikings team.

If anyone knows what a large hawk hovering over my backyard means, let me know.

Love,

Dad

We all have things in our lives that are important to “us only”.  I wanted a college degree.  Nobody in my family had every attained a four year college diploma.  Later, I wanted a Masters degree in business because it established credibility in the business community.  Again, no one in my family had every received a post-graduate degree.  As I got closer to achieving my goals, I always adopted the pessimistic view (never expressed to anyone) that maybe I was going to be denied for some reason.

My biggest personal goal in life was owning my own home.  Your Mom came from a family living in a huge four bedroom home.  Remember, I lived above the City Club in downtown Plymouth.  We had an apartment.  It was small.  It was dingy.  I was embarrassed to bring my friends there, especially those that lived “normal lives” in homes around the community.  The City Club environment provided many positive things.  I learned to be independent at an early age and because of the tavern business, dealing with people was a priority.  My life was different because our family didn’t have a house.  I have no right to complain because in some ways we had a better “home” than other families.

After graduating from college, we moved to Milwaukee.  We had an apartment and three kids.  It seemed I was further away from a house than ever.  After several years of work, we had $0 savings.  I remember calculating how much money I needed to make a down payment on a “starter home”.  In the mid-1960’s, $20,000 could buy you an old wood frame home that needed lots of work.  I needed a 10% down payment.  So I started squeezing my paycheck.  $5 per week went into our savings account.  As I got a few raises in salary, savings increased to $20-$30 per week.  In 1967, our family moved to Sheboygan.  We had $2,200 in the bank.  By the spring of 1968 we had made an offer to buy our first home on St.Claire Avenue.  We paid $17,000 and made a downpayment of $1,700.  From the time our offer was accepted until we moved into the house, it seemed like forever.  I remember thinking (many, many times), this is not going to happen.  Something is going to screw it up.  My “pity party” for myself was always “something” is going to happen to foul it up.  Nothing bad happened and your Mom and I owned a house.

There have been many things in life that I have wanted from marriage to kids to cars to job positions to retirement goals.  Nothing, and I mean nothing, dominated my “psychy” like wanting a house.  It went back to my childhood.  It was personal to me.

The lesson Grasshoppers is that dreams can come true.  Sometimes it means working hard for what you want, taking a little risk and then reaching for your dream.  Only you know “what has been missing” in your life and what is needed to fulfill it.  Just do it!

Love,

Dad 

I see that Mitch Miller died recently.  He dominated Friday evening TV back in the 1960’s with his “sing-a-long” follow the bouncing ball music program.  My mother would gather her glass bottled Pepsi and home popped Popcorn.  She would then sit down in front of our black and white TV and ask to “not be disturbed”.  I think he was 92.  I guess music contributes to a long life.

You can not choose your relatives (hence “no control”).  I see that Chelsea Clinton married several weeks ago with a $3-4 million extravaganza.  She married into the Jewish religion.  Love has no bounds.  The gentleman she married, Mark Mezvinsky runs a hedge fund (speculative financial vehicle using borrowed money).  Hedge fund managers have a bad reputation for high risk ventures.  Their reputation matches car salesmen, insurance salesmen and lawyers.  Maybe Mark is different.  His dad spent 5 years in Federal prison for fraud.  Both parents were politicians.  Actually politicians rate up there with with car salesmen.  In the end, Chelsea can’t control the actions of her relatives but I would guess there was tension with the seating arrangement at the wedding reception.

I am so happy that our family enjoys a harmonius relationship.  No tension.  No secrets in the closet.  Everybody loving and hugging each other.  We are truly lucky!  Besides, it wouldn’t make any difference if there was tension in our family.  We probably couldn’t control it anyway.

Just a note on family “last names”.  I started work with a guy named Ruetelhuber at Allis-Chalmers and nobody ever pronounced his name right.  It is a name I was glad I did not have.  Well I see the Chicago Cubs have a pitcher named Schlitter.  How about that.  Mr. and Mrs Schlitter and all the little Schlitters.  Say that fast 10 times.  I also imagine two families getting together with one name Focker (from the movie the “In-Laws”) and a the other Fockel (after a local decorator business).  If the bride named Fockel married a Focker and she kept the maiden name (in the middle), she would become a Fockel Focker.  Say that 10 times real fast.  You play the hand you were dealt.  You have no control.

Because this is Friday the 13th, don’t walk under any ladders, step on any cracks, trash zodiac signs, open an umbrella in the house, or break any mirrors.   But hey, you probably couldn’t control it any way.

Love,

Dad

Grasshopper No.5 posted on her website the episode a flight attendant for Jet Blue had with a passenger.  After being hit in the head with a suitcase, the attendant voiced his anger over the intercom system and then pulled the emergency chute while the plane was “docking” to get the hell off the plane.  Maybe the air conditioner was not working on the plane.

Better yet, a young mother was driving in heavy traffic when some smart ass driver cut her off.  Shortly thereafter, all traffic came to a stop.  The young mom pulled a dirty diaper off her young child and walked to the car that had cut her off.  She smeared body excrement all over the windows of the “offending driver”.  Take that sh–!

It is no secret that the summer has had more than normal amounts of rain.  That creates ideal conditions for mosquitos.  I understand one of our State Senators had made a motion to change the Wisconsin State Bird to the mosquito.

What is this?  I read in the local business news that a new trucking company now exists in Appleton.  It is called An—-s Trucking.  The owner has the same name as Grasshopper No.3.  Nobody tells me anything.

Another business venture in Sheboygan is yet to be created.  Grasshopper No.1 and hubby have started a raspberry farm nestled in the foothills of the Kettle Morine area.  They need to make the business official so they can pay needed tax dollars.

Who knows what is next?  Maybe a small parts business?  Maybe a photography venture?

The State Fair is taking place in Milwaukee.  Featured are Krispy Kreme hamburgers, chocolate covered bacon on a stick and deep fried butter.  Knock yourself out!

When I was a kid, we played outside all summer.  Now I look up and down the street and I don’t see kids.  They are all indoors where it is cool.  Come on!

Enjoy what is left of warm days.

Love,

Dad

 

 

Grandsons Grant and Mitchell have been surrounded by our “A” family for their whole life.  Their surname (“H”) inherited from their Dad John has been their identification since birth.  John had almost no remaining relatives and since his “passing”, contact with any of his family has been non-existant.

The constant in their life is that Grasshopper No.2 has always kept the “A” moniker.   For professional reasons especially, it has kept things simple.

Grant and Mitchell are surrounded by our side of the family and interestingly, my cousin Rick “A” lives in Madison and is “in and out” of their lives.  Holiday clambakes are usually at our house surrounded by “A’s”.

Last week, Grant and Mitchell chose (really their choice endorsed by Grasshopper No.2) to change their last name to “A”.  It takes newspaper notification, appearance before a judge, and official change of birth records.  The whole process is rather perfunctory.  The real change is that it creates a sense of belonging and being part of a larger network of family.

Now I have to get used to “Mitchel ‘A’ scores another touchdown” or “Grant ‘A’ stuffs another basketball shot back into a shooters face”.  Maybe I’ll witness “introducing the new President and Vice President of the U.S., Grant and Mitchell “A”.  You may all get an invitation to the White House.

So congratulations to two special guys in Madison who got re-vitalized with our family name.  It is a change of “heart”.

Love,

Chas

World War II Vets have a special place in my heart.  50 million people lost their lives fighting for our freedoms.  Having family members in the World War II effort “brought it’s seriousness home”.

I have mentioned before that there are “honor flights” organized to fly veterans of World War II to Washington D.C. to visit the relatively new World War II memorial.  Included is a visit to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and parts of the Smithsonian.  Most World War II vets are now in their mid to late 80’s.  They are dying at a rate of 1000 per day.  The remaining vets are really “national treasures”.

EAA last week arranged an honor flight for veterans to fly out of Wittman field in Oshkosh early on Thursday morning.  Disabled vets were accompanied by family or medical personnel.  Leaving from Oshkosh was special.  Many veteran pilots of World War II return annually to Oshkosh.

The “honor flight” included 80-100 World War II veterans.  After visiting the different Washington D.C. memorials and sharing personal life stories, the flight was designed to return to Oshkosh at 8:00 PM.  The arrivial coincided with the end of the air show.  The veterans were greeted by 20,000 air show attendees.  I can only imagine the emotion of the veterans receiving a standing ovation as they exited the aircraft.  It gives me goose bumps.

It is interesting that it took so long to pay tribute to World War II veterans.  They returned from the War and quietly created a prospering nation.  They were under appreciated at the time.  They are finally getting a just tribute.

My regret is that I couldn’t be one of the 20,000 fans waiting to welcome the vets back from Washington.  My fear is that 65 years after their effort to preserve freedom, the a–holes in Washington are slowly taking those freedoms away.  Don’t let it happen!  Stand-up for your rights and freedoms.

Love,

Dad

 

Rumor has it that Grasshopper No.1 and favorite Son-in-Law Tom invited Grandson Tommy to Wednesday’s Milwaukee Brewer game in Milwaukee.  I can only imagine the young baseball fan’s exhuberance.  It could actually result in “wetting one’s knickers”.

It takes me back because the Milwaukee Braves moved to Milwaukee in the early 1950’s (I believe it was 1953).  There were several National League teams that were family favorites.  The Brooklyn Dodgers had the league’s best catcher in Roy Campanella and my brother Jack aspired to be a catcher some day.  When the Brooklyn Dodgers came to town, my Dad would take Jack and I down to Milwaukee County stadium.  I do remember one game sitting in the top row of the stadium behind home plate (they were the only tickets available).  We didn’t care about the poor seats. We were there.

I know that Tommy was going to get a brand new baseball and the plan was to get to the game early.  He could take the ball down to the railing near the batting cage and maybe get the signatures of some Milwaukee Brewer hitters.  I don’t know how he made out, but even if he got no signatures, anticipation is 90% of the experience.

Next is waiting for your favorite hitter to come to the plate.  I’m sure in Tommy’s case, he knows Hart, Braun and Prince Fielder.  He may even have an obscure “unknown” that he favors.  It really gets special if one of your hero’s hits “one out” (homerun).  Years ago, brother Jack and I cheered for Henry Aaron, Eddie Mathews and Andy Pafko.

Of course there are hot dogs, nachos and cheese, popcorn and soda.

Maybe a piece of memorabilia gets purchased such as hats, T-shirts, and sweatshirts with Milwaukee Brewer inscriptions.

Then it is off to the parking lot at 5:00 PM to fight the 38,000 other fans.  Did I mention that 5:00 PM is the height of commuter traffic going home from work.  Moving a few miles can take hours.

Who cares if the Brewers got creamed 10-2.  The whole experience plays to a little boy’s fantasy.  Hell, it plays to a grown man’s fantasy.  That begs the question, “why didn’t I get an invitation”?

Dreams are important.  A day at Miller Park surely fullfilled the dream.

Love,

Dad