Ace Wisdom

I have always been suspicious of people bearing gifts.

The new healthcare legislation is going to cover an additional 32 million people that aren’t presently covered and we will save $138 billion over 10 years.  Yeah, right!  More coverage, reduced costs.  The Easter Bunny liveth in Washington.

The Easter Bunny will hire 16,500 new IRS agents to scrutinize tax filings to make sure you are complying with new healthcare rules.  It only costs $10.8 billion per year.

The Easter Bunny will cut my Medicare coverage to help pay for the increased costs of the new healthcare.  50% of the doctors are already turning away patients with Medicare insurance.  It Medicare is cut further, more doctors will refuse patients.  Bad Easter Bunny.

Businesses are bracing for increased costs.  They will now have to cover children until age 26.  They will have to pay an additional tax for each employee.  Catapillar just reserved $100 million to cover this years increased medical expenses.  John Deere set up a $150 million reserve.  As each employee costs more to have on the payroll, companies will be eager to hire more people.  Yeah, right!  Maybe the Easter Bunny hasn’t been totally truthful.  But he is so cute.

All people not covered by medical insurance will be forced to take out a policy.  If they don’t there will be dire tax penalties to be dealt with when you file your annual tax return with the IRS.  Hey, the Easter Bunny has rules too.

There will be “medical panels” set up to determine when questionable care should be administered.  The Easter Bunny will have the ability to throw Grandma under the bus.

The truth is that the Easter Bunny should be held responsible for false promises.  But he is the Easter Bunny.  He is warm and fuzzy.  He hides eggs and delivers chocolate bunnies.

As I approach my twilight years, the Easter Bunny can only affect my life in limited ways.  He may be responsible for ending my misery prematurely but I am worried about my kids and their kids and generations to come.  Somebody has to pay for the actions of the generous little fuzzy Easter Bunny.

The lesson Grasshoppers is you were given basic freedoms.  The Easter Bunny has been steadily infinging on those freedoms.  Millions have died to protect those freedoms.  Hang on with all your might to your basic freedoms.  Listen to me.   The Easter Bunny doesn’t exist.

Love,

Dad

I was always told that I was named after my Grandpa “Chalk” (Charles) on my Dad’s side.  My other Grandpa’s first name was Ervin.  Hence my name Charles Ervin.

A friend has given me several Web sites to trace family history.  One site consolidates all courthouse records prior to 1907.  After 1907, you have to go to individual courthouses for detail on births, marriages, and deaths.  After 1907, newspaper records can be informative.

I went back to confirm the birth record of Grandpa Chalk.  I couldn’t find it.  I searched every Charles born in 1898 in Wisconsin.  Nothing!  Then I got specific.  I thought Chalk was born in Mukwonago, Wisconsin and the birth would have recorded in Waukesha Courthouse.  Nothing!  Years ago my Grandma Myrna gave me a thick Bible (very thick) from the mid-1850’s.  In the center of the Bible were pages intended for the owner of the Bible to log significant family events.  I noticed that the marriage of Myrna and Charley was carefully logged in the Bible pages.  There was never mention of Charley.  It was always Charles (nicknamed Chalk) and Myrna.  I checked courthouse records and there it was:  Charley.

So now the dilemma.  I was named after my Grandfather Charles.  His name was officially Charley.  So what does that mean to me.  Was I intended to be a “Charley”.  I notice all the reference to Grandpa Chalk during his ownership years of the City Club was formally Charles.  He may have preferred the name Charles.

I was named Charles after my Grandfather Charley.  What the hell?

I am now into tracing my middle name Ervin after Grandpa Jiggs (allegedly Ervin).  I can’t find any record in the courthouse documents.  I can find his two sisters and brother Carl but no Ervin.  Maybe Grandpa Ervin has a birth record with a different name or spelling.  If I can’t find Ervin in official records, does that mean I have no middle name?

Interesting, meaningless stuff!

Love,

Just plain Charley (Dad)

 

Your Mom and I watched the end of “Hoosiers” last week.  We’ve seen it many times before but you can’t help but get wrapped up in the excitement of a little high school in Indiana (less than 200 students) going to the State Tournament and slaying the dragon.  The won!  Again!

It brought back memories of stories my Dad told about Plymouth High School basketball teams trying to make it to the big State Tournament.  When I graduated from high school in 1958, Plymouth still had not made it to “State” in Madison.

My Dad’s stories (and repeated by Art Mueller and Harry Stroebel) centered around a talented basketball player named Walt Lautenbach.  He played in the mid to late 1930’s for Plymouth High School.  I think they won a Conference championship or two.  Making it to the State Tournament was another story.  One year, Plymouth first played two games in the State Regional Tournament.  They won both.  Plymouth advanced to the Sectional.  If they won two games, they would be in the State Basketball tournament for the first time.  They won the first game.  Everything came down to the final sectional game.  As the story goes, it was close and Plymouth had a chance to win at the end of the game but failed.  Walt Lautenbach couldn’t seal the deal.  He was talented enough to attend UW-Madison after he graduated high school and was a star for the Badgers for several years.

So my Dad died in 1957 knowing the Plymouth Panthers missed their one golden opportunity.  He believed until that the end that Plymouth someday would succeed.  Someday the Plymouth High School team would make it to the State Tournament.

I was never as optimistic as my Dad.  Plymouth was a relatively small school compared to the Milwaukee schools.  Big schools have a bigger talent pool.

Then things changed.  The State tournament was separated into Classes (A,B,C and D).  Plymouth was classified into the B group so that it played more schools it’s size.  In the early 1970’s, Plymouth had two talented brothers (I think it was the Cummerfords).  They went to the State Class B tournament in Madison and they won the title.  It was a mini-version of “Hoosiers”.  My Dad would have been in his glory.

Pursuing the dream was all about stories of past failure (Walt Lautenbach and Plymouth Panthers) and believing that the ultimate goal was out there to be achieved.  Someday.  Yep, someday!

So I do have a reason for watching the NCAA tournament games with some passion.  It is all about dreams!  I grew up with stories about dreams.

Love,

Dad

 

Yesterday I saw a Robin.  It is always the first sign of Spring.

Last Friday, the snow finally melted from the back deck.  No more “white” or dirty white.  It is too early to predict that we have seen the last snow but the warm weather feels good.  Good signs.

Sunday was the dumb “daylight savings time” conversion.  I have never understood the reasons to keep changing the the time forward and back.  There is supposed to be an energy savings.  Bullsh–.  It made last weekend very short.  Seniors die because their normal routines get changed (it is a proven fact, heart attacks, etc.).  So I want you to know I was at risk last weekend.  The clock setting routine does signify “Spring”.

Last Friday was daughter-in-law Shelby Jr.’s birthday.  Happy Birthday.

Today is grand-daughter Keely’s birthday.  Happy Birthday.

Tomorrow is daughter-in-law Jenny’s birthday.  Happy Birthday.

Jeepers there are a lot of pre-Spring birthdays.  I’m not sure what that is a sign of!

The sirens blew this morning in Appleton around 9:00 AM and there were fireworks over the DMV.  Grandson Collin got his drivers license.  This was an epic battle.  Congratulations Collin.

Last night Uncle Bob was admitted to the hospital feeling poorly and running a fever.  They discovered a perforated intestine and he was headed for the operating room.  I don’t know what the medical procedures are for a perforation.  Hopefully everything turns out okay.  His status was not known this morning.  I think Bob’s Dad (Grandpa George) had a similar condition and operation many years ago.  It is very serious.  Keep him in your prayers.

My attention now turns to the NCAA basketball tournament.  It is a Spring event.

This week I will get snow tires removed from both cars.  You know that the moment the snow tires come off, it will snow.  It is the ultimate sign of Spring.

When the temperature reaches 65 degrees each day this week, enjoy the sunshine.  Everything is coming up roses.

Love,

Dad

 

 

 

When I was a young engineering student at Marquette University (a long time ago), the engineering students banded together to create “The Purple Shaft” award.  It was metal shaft about 8 inches long mounted vertically on a board and painted with a purple protective dye.  The mounting board was high quality oak with a varished finish.

The Purple Shaft Award was given annually to the teacher who screwed the engineering students in the worst way.  One year it went to a teacher of mechanical design.  He would never give any student a grade higher than a “C”.  No “A’s or “B’s”.  A “D” was better than an “F” because it meant you didn’t have to take the class again.  Needless to say, many students did get an “F” and had to take the course again.  Assh—!

The Purple Shaft Award had an engraved gold plate mounted on the bottom with the name of the assh— teacher prominently displayed along with the course identification and the year.

There was no banquet to honor the teacher.  He/she didn’t deserve a free meal.  The engineering students took the cowards way out.  The Purple Shaft Award would just mysteriously show up at the office door of the teacher recipient.  The teacher could then “bask in the glow” of the knowledge that they had screwed over more students than any other teacher.

How did I do with the teacher in question?  Six weeks into the course, I had worked my ass off and received two stellar “D’s”.  Not wanting to waste my time or money, I seriously considered dropping the course and retaking it at a later date.  If I dropped the course, it didn’t show on my record.  I went to see my teacher to discuss the course and let him know that I seriously was considering dropping.  He turned his back on me in his office and uttered “are you going to be a quitter all your life”.  The discussion was over.  Nobody says that to me.  I persevered with the course.  I finished!  I got a “B”.  I won.  Actually the teacher won too.  He used my anger to make me fight for my grade.  Damn, maybe he was smarter than I realized.

Never the less, there are many people in my life that deserve the “Purple Shaft Award”.  I am seriously thinking for having my own purple shaft mounted on a board and doing an annual award.  It could go to a person at the bank that screws me over or to any person that makes my life miserable.

The Purple Shaft Award is timeless.  There is no limit to the number of assh—- in the world.

Don’t screw with me!  You too might get my prestigious Purple Shaft Award.

Love,

Dad

Some guy just pulled hundreds of baseball cards (from the 1950’s) from his attic.  I understand that there were 28 Mickey Mantle cards in mint condition along with other top players.  He sold the whole collection of $500,000.  As I recall the buble gum packets with 5 baseball cards included sold for a dime in the 50’s.  Not a bad return on investment.

When I was in high school, my Dad (who was a kid at heart) would give me $1 to go over to Heckers Tavern (one half block away) and buy 10 comic books.  High priority were Superman, Captain Marvel, Batman, the Flash, Archie and Friends, and all the Looney Tune and Disney characters.  My favorite was Scrooge McDuck.  He would swim in his “pool” of money.  I thought that Superman was in his infancy in the mid 1950’s.  I learned recently that Action Comics introduced Superman in July of 1938.  Recently a comic book collector sold his original copy from 1938 for $1,000,000.  Imagine having that comic book in your attic.

So when you rummage through your attics or go to auctions, you never know when you might hit the “mother lode”.  There could be lots of hidden treasures.

Your Mom and I just finished the fifth season of “24”.  Jack Bauer, the indestructable hero of the Counter Terrorist Unit saved the Country again from nerve gas and nuclear missles.  I’ve gotten so I can predict the next phone call that will change the script or when a character will be introduced that will dominate the story.  The fifth season of “24” was supposed to end on a happy note.  Instead, Jack Bauer gets abducted by the Chinese at the end and he is beat up in the “hold” of a ship headed for China.  So now we have to wait until Season 6 to see if Jack survives.  I predict he does and the Chinese will regret capturing him.  Don’t screw with Jack Bauer.

College Basketball takes center stage for the next 4 weeks.  Don’t bother me!

Enjoy the sun!

Love,

Dad

I used a “car wash coupon” Xmas present to wash the black Camry.  Once it was bright and shiny, it ran faster.  Wouldn’t you know the “Service Engine” light came on the same day.  After $25 for a quick oil change (it took 20 minutes), I drove away.  The Camry ran faster yet.  Then I stopped at Kwik Trip for gas.  You can buy gas without 10% ethanol.  I bought it.  The Camry ran faster yet.  Talk about high performance.  I hope my gas pedal doesn’t stick!

When I was commuting to Ripon years ago it was nice when the weather started turning warm and sunny.  I would always listen to the news as I left work at 4:30 PM each day.  In early March, WTMJ out of Milwaukee would begin to broadcast Brewer exhibition games from Phoenix Arizona preempting the news.  I could never figure out why anyone would listen to “pre-season” baseball games that are absolutely meaningless.  I guess there is something about the drone of endless commentary dribble about baseball for hours and hours and hours.  Yesterday I had to run some errands in the afternoon.  Guess what?  Endless baseball dribble.  Aaaggggggg!

I want a teachers job in the Milwaukee Public School system (MPS).  The teachers with low seniority average $56,000 in salary per year and another $44,000 in benefits including pension.  By my calculation, that is $100,000 per year package.  Only 48% of MPS students graduate from high school.  Sign me up.  Big pay with no accountability.  Yes!  Yes!  Yes!

As you know, as retired citizens, your Mom and I are entitled to Medicare insurance.  The “walk the plank” healthcare plan proposed by the Obama administration will cut Medicare benefits over the next 3-10 years.  50% of all doctors will not accept Medicare now because the reimbursement rates are too low (and it is an administrative nightmare).  So if Medicare gets cut further, maybe 0% of the doctors will accept Medicare.  WTF.

Grandson Mitchell”s Tri-County basketball team won their championship.  He has a trophy (described as high as two cans of corn) and a T-Shirt declaring them 2010 Champs.  Does it get any better?

Enjoy the sun!  Here come the warnings about global warming.

Love,

Dad