Last week was Amelia’s spring break. I decided to take her on a trip I took her mother on many years ago. To the great white north! And white it was, the ground was covered with snow when we got there and the temps were in the 30’s.
We stayed 2 days on the New York Side, 2 days on the Canadian side, and then made our way to Dearborn Michigan, where we went to The Henry Ford Museum and Rouge Factory Tour. Something my uncle was going to go with us to, but unfortunately passed away before we were able to. He was with us in spirit.
It was the most boring FLW home I’ve toured, minus one detail. A sculpture in the conservatory. Which I purchased a smaller version of. Her mom and I went to many FLW homes, including Fallingwater and were foundation members for a few years.
The view from our hotel room in Canada was glorious. Making it not needed to do many things along the gorge that most do.
We did go to the Journey Behind the Falls experience, something her mom and I also did.
While there, I had to pickup some Cuban cigars. Something that was strictly not allowed during my first visit. I must say, they are the best tasting cigars I’ve ever had in my life. Well worth the price.
I’m quickly running out of these “take her on trips I took her mom on” trips. There’s only 1 left, and that is Fallingwater & the Flight 93 memorial. I hope Amelia is able to look back on these experiences with just me and appreciate them as she becomes an adult.
Saturday night as I was laying down to go to bed, a large POP and CRACK occurred in my back. I’ve been dealing with this bulged disk for over a year now. Was this a good sign or a bad one?
So far, the news is positive. The nerve pain I have been having has almost disappeared. I still have some slight issues, but nowhere near what I was having.
This means I can actually stand without my leg going numb completely. I still have some numbness, but nowhere near the levels that I had previously.
I plan on getting a hold of the spinal specialist I saw previously to have another CT scan done to see if there are indeed any changes. If so, I definitely won’t have to have any surgery. Something I was genuinely worried about.
Steve, Kelly & I at the Runciple Spoon
I felt so good that I was able to go out and see a couple of friends, one of which was in town from Milwaukee for the LOTUS festival. I had planned on seeing them during the festival, but my back had been hurting so much I barely moved the entire weekend.
Almost two weeks ago I received a call from my uncle in Michigan. It was bad news. My aunt Marty was in the hospital and it didn’t look like she would recover.
Marty flippin’ my dad the bird, circa late 80’s.
I told him that I would be there the next day. After clearing things with my new job, I hit the road. A journey I hadn’t made in eight years. Shortly behind me was my girlfriend. She stayed behind as we were not sure if Amelia wanted to come.
My favorite sign from their house.
My aunt and uncle moved to Michigan in 1995 from Greenfield, where they had the largest house I had ever stayed in. Their employer had been bought out and they were offered jobs in Detroit, or they could find new jobs and stay. They decided to go.
My dad’s trusty Blazer with my uncle showing off his new house.
She worked in the branches eventually becoming an Associate Vice President of the bank before her retirement. Always firey, always full of attitude. I know why my uncle fell in love with her.
She has a son, who was on Jeopardy at one point. In all these years, I’ve yet to meet him however.
I arrived; and my uncle and I immediately went to the hospital. It was bad. I was suddenly confronted with the reason why I missed out on several family members passing. After going through what happened with my grandfather, I could no longer go to such situations. I had to, my uncle suddenly had no other family. He needed someone to be there for him; and I was going to make sure he wasn’t alone.
Sadly, my aunt didn’t make it. Her condition only eroded until she passed away on 9/11/2022 at 5:30pm.
Her attitude, her voice and her humor formed the basis of why I love women the way I do. Her ferocity towards all things are why I love women who refuse to apologize for being their honest selves. I had no other symbols of female power as close to me as she was in my family.
I will forever miss you Marty. You made this little boy love women just like you.
My eldest princess turned 23 last week. She has decided to live a very private life, so I take whatever opportunity I can get with her. A few days before her birthday I found out that Taylor Tomlinson was going to play the Comedy Attic that weekend.
This screamed PERFECT to me. As she speaks about her hangups with anxiety, depression and even bipolar disorder in her routine. About what life is like for the 20 something crowd. There was one problem though, and that was the fact that all of her shows were sold out.
I almost got tickets for her show the night of my daughter’s birthday, but it was too late. I would have showed up late, I didn’t want that. I woke up Saturday in complete and utter pain. I just wasted the day away, figuring out what I was going to do. My little girl deserved to know her dad loves her, she deserved to know that she is my princess, and she will always deserve everything I can give her – even if she doesn’t want it.
Luck would be on my side, as I was able to score tickets to her last show of the weekend. I then had another issue, my daughter is much like her father at that age. Sleeping is hard, waking up is even harder. I wasn’t going to waste the tickets – but I was definitely worried that we weren’t going to make it in time.
She killed it, and I loved the time with my Taylor who I’ve taken to see 2 famous other Taylors now. This should be a thing that I do, and I know she appreciates it.
If you follow this blog, you may wonder why it’s been so long since there have been any new posts made. There are several reasons, but primarily because my entire household has been dealing with COVID for the last three months.
At first it was the youngest of the household, Kira. She had been sick for a while but none of us suspected COVID. Then the following day, I began to have post nasal drip and a sore throat. I tested positive on a home test, and proceeded to be in a state of semi conciousness for several days. As soon as I felt safe enough to drive I scheduled a PCR test at CVS. It confirmed what we all knew.
This silly variant would not let go of my body. For a period of 3 weeks I would travel to the same CVS to get the same PCR test every few days. I did not want to be a cause of spread, even though the FDA recommendations as well as IU’s were to quarantine for 5 days, and you were free to return to activities if you had no fever for 24 hours.
Then, our Queen was hit with it. Already dealing with sickness and pains that had kept her in bed for months; she was to stay there some more. She however, decided to seek treatment where I and her daughter did not. She received the anti-viral mediciation Paxlovid.
Our Queen is special you see. If there is a side effect, she usually receives it. If it can be an allergen, she probably has an allergy to it. This makes any situation with health related issues difficult at best.
Thankfully she took it in stride for the most part, she was unable to take her medication for anxiety and had a weird taste in her mouth due to the Paxlovid.
We are all for the most part better now. Kira seemed to pickup another cold of sorts, and Lyndsey and I continue to carry on with our various back and other issues due to the case of getting old.
Last week, I followed through with something my daughter has been working towards. She and I spent a week at a “Undisclosed Location” while she attended a Nike Basketball Camp. This camp is headed by Eddie Gill, a former NBA player.
Zionsville Middle School
Amelia will be going into 7th grade and has said she wants to be serious about playing on both the Basketball and Volleyball teams. Her parents are going to do everything we can to ensure she can.
This summer she is attending a total of three camps, the aforementioned one, a volleyball camp at BNL, and a volleyball camp at Butler this coming week.
Due to the crazy increase in fuel prices, I decided to get us a hotel room for the week. I did the math and it came to literally even itself out. I’ll get back to some curiosities on that later.
Amelia made some friends, which definitely helped. There were 120 kids in this camp, which lasted from 9am until 3pm daily. She picked up some skills and some life lessons. I hope this helps her when she tries out for the Bedford Middle School Stone Cutters team.
On the first day, Eddie announced that they would have theme days. Something neither of us had considered. Her friends helped with the first one, crazy socks. We then headed off to Dick’s Sporting Goods and picked her up a headband and basketball jersey. She picked out a WNBA Indianapolis Fever one that is Stranger Things themed.
A couple of the days I showed up a little early, and saw some pleasant surprises. Each day at the end, Eddie would try to make a backwards half court shot. If he couldn’t do it in 3 attempts, he would have to do 10 push-ups. If he succeeded the kids would be the ones doing push-ups.
In our off time, we got to be father and daughter. Something we are very comfortable and good at being. We had dinner with a work friend of mine one night, the rest of the evenings we ate somewhere or just vegged in our hotel room with the snacks and microwavable foods we purchased the night we arrived. I think it was a good quiet and stress free time for the both of us.
For the last day of camp, all of the kids were provided with a shirt to wear. I had also purchased Amelia a basketball. All of the parents were told to show up earlier than usual for the closing of the camp. What I heard from Eddie made me proud that I made that choice to send her to this camp.
I provided Amelia with some sharpies and instructed her to have each coach sign the ball. I know they would appreciate it, and down the road – she will as well.
Eddie Gill signing Amelia’s basketball
I have to say, the entire Gill family is just adorable. Eddie, his children and wife all actively run the camp together. Amelia said that a person from the team that won the NCAA championship this year was there as a coach as well. She told me that she wants to go to this camp every year now. I will need to make some adjustments on our lodging, but as long as she keeps up the good work ol’ dad will fulfill her wishes as I know these camps are a way to help increase her skills.
Amelia & Eddie
I hope this is the start of something beautiful for my daughter, that she will cherish for the rest of her days. Sports have been good for her in many ways. I just want her to know that her dad will never make her feel that she is less than just because she doesn’t meat some imagined goal.
No, unfortunately it isn’t running again. I sadly have not touched the car since I had to have it towed back home from Greensburg. The general consensus is that whatever the issue is, it’s not one that will require the engine be pulled. One uncle strongly believes that I have a bent push rod.
In anticipation of the issue being larger, over this time I have procured some parts that are period accurate and performance upgrades. An Edelbrock 3890 TPI base, and a set of SLP Runners.
This post is more about a little thing I did over two years ago. The interior was really in need. When it comes to upholstery work, there is only one person on this earth that I trust, and that’s my uncle Ed. While there were still rumblings about some virus in China, I made a mad dash to Oklahoma with the driver seat.
The 30+ year old upholstery was in such bad shape that a seat cover was required due to the rips alone.
The lower portion was just as bad
While out there, my uncle gave me the good and the bad news. While he could repair the damage, what I wanted, it would definitely be noticeable. While minor, none of the new fabrics available look exactly the same as 30+ year old sun bleached fabric.
Thankfully, they no longer live in the stone age and have internet access that even satisfies me. So I began the hunt for new seat covers. While they can be had quite easily for these cars, that embroidery is the white whale. Most are generic, available in colors that did not come from the factory and generally the polar opposite of what I’m looking for.
I’m a professional googler by trade. This shouldn’t be “that” hard. I was really surprised to find exactly what I was looking for on of all places eBay. So I immediately purchased them. A set for the front seats only, a decision I now regret. I will find a cover for the rear at some point however. After a few hiccups with delivery, requiring I actually speak with a FedEX dispatcher and having him follow google maps to the location of my aunt and uncle’s residence, they were delivered.
A couple of weeks ago, my uncle sent me some photos. My driver seat is done.
Is this really the same seat?
I didn’t really have many words. I’m simply blown away at the result. Dad would be happy to have his handiwork on the car he never spoke about. My mind is only on getting the passenger seat out there to have that seat redone as well.
Like just wow!
He then cleaned up the frame and seat tracks. Automotive seats are something he does all the time. Trust is everything to me on the progression of this car. I trust this man with my life, and I know dad would have trusted him as well.
Looks like a brand new seat
So, as soon as I can figure out a time that works I’ll be westbound and down, loaded up and trucking. To see my family that I haven’t seen in years, provide them a laundry list of things I said I would bring, join the Cherokee and lord knows what else.
Of course, life had to deal me and my domicile another blow. On Tuesday I received a odd text from my girlfriend. The water pressure in my home had essentially turned into a slow drip, across my entire home.
When I made it home, I confirmed her words but then investigated a “turbulence” that could be heard in the main water pipe going about halfway through my home. That word is the best way I can describe what I heard.
Everything on the internet pointed to an issue with the water service itself, but my water company was closed. A friend who works with these things said to turn the water service off and then on again. I was going to do this, but then I got a hold of my uncle Ted.
To this day I don’t know exactly what he “does” for a living. But I know he’s closely attached to one of the water companies in the county. He painted my old motorcycle and he painted the IROC.
I called him just looking for a suggestion on who to hire to fix it, he simply stated, I’ll fix it, told me to call 811 and hung up. So I did as a good nephew should and did what he said.
The next day I called my water company, and explained the situation. They went over to my place and tested my outdoor spigots and compared it to what the meter was reading. My meter was showing an active flow rate of 29 gallons a minute. I definitely had a leak, but where? They shut the water off.
My only thought was from the drainage work I had done a couple of years ago. When they were creating the trench, they hit my water line, which required it be repaired.
On the suggestion of a friend, I reached out to the company that performed the work, to ask if they would offer any assistance. I casually mentioned that I had already contacted my uncle Ted, as the community of people that do this work is quite small. Surprisingly one of the people used to work for him. They said that they would come out on Saturday (the day I’m writing this).
My uncle Ted, and his brother Tom (my other uncle) came on Thursday evening with a mini-excavator. I didn’t know Tom was coming, so that was a happy surprise to me. While they were en-route, I decided to take a walk in my yard, to see if I could notice anything out of the ordinary that could lead to the point of the break. I sure found something odd, an almost perfectly circular hole in my yard, that was about 3 feet deep. This turned out to be the exact spot where the line broke.
They made quick work of digging a hole to where my drainage tile and water line intersected. The amount of water flow coming from that drainage tile was quite amazing, showing how well that investment paid off.
Both of my uncles believed the way the water line was sitting played a part in the original fix breaking. If I recall correctly, it was as seen in the image, and they moved it to be underneath the drain. Ted then replaced about a 3 foot section of the water line and installed a couple of compression fittings that were at least twice the size of the existing ones. I’ve never seen fittings like this in my life.
Ted then went to my water meter, and gave me a lesson in their workings. My particular meter is an older version of the meters used with his water company. It has a digital display that switches between the reading and the flow rate. I appreciated the lesson.
I opened a few faucets in the house to get any air out of the system, and then turned my water heater back on. Ted and Tom then began filling that hole back up.
I’ve never been one to lean on others to rescue me from problems, and offered them the significant amount of cash I randomly had on me at the time. Ted wanted me to reimburse him for the fittings, but neither of them would take any other payment. I’ll forever be grateful and appreciative.
I updated the company I had hired that the water leak was fixed, but that due to it there were some spots in my yard that were now damaged. They came by today and laid down some dirt. Unfortunately due to some weather we had received, it was difficult at best. They agreed to come back when the weather is a little better to add some more.
I then found out that company is related to another fork of my family. All of this has reminded me of how much of a small world this really is.
A few weeks ago, my youngest daughter participated in the North Lawrence Community Schools Elementary Basketball League. Playing for the elementary she, her papaw, memaw, and great-uncle have all went to, Parkview.
I had injured my back and did not make her first two games, but I did make the rest of them. While I had seen her play basketball with the Boys & Girls Club and a church kids league, they both paled in comparison to how ugly this league was.
While the boys played pretty clean, straight ball, the girls would often go after each other. Flagrant fouls were common to the point of the meanness being as plain as day. Amelia’s role was as the center who also performed the game’s tip-off.
Just under two weeks ago was the tournament for the league. Both the girls and boys teams for Oolitic were the number one seeds. Both Parkview teams had lost one game each, and had to play twice to win.
The basketball culture in rural Indiana is foreign to me. To be able to experience it through my daughter. To see her excitement, and meet her teammates meant the world to me. I take a great sense of pride in knowing dad is looking down upon her and smiling that she is getting to grow up in his hometown, and have a childhood somewhat like his.
The tournament was at Bedford North Lawrence High School, commonly referred to as BNL. I had never been inside the building before. The atmosphere was electric, you would think a sectional or regional game was about to take place.
Amelia’s first game was against Lincoln Elementary in the secondary gym. At least one of her friends plays on that team. The game was not overtly memorable as I was sitting next to three high school age girls who’s brother was playing on the Parkview boys team, who was playing immediately before the Parkview girls. Their enthusiastic cheering for him and the team showed deep seated spirit, much like The Beach Boys sang about in, “Be True to Your School.” They provided much entertainment. I sat in a feeling of awe, torn between a smile and a tear.
When the boys game was over, they all sat on the other side of me as those sisters. This provided even more entertainment, and I got to learn a little about the boys my little girl goes to school with.
Their second game was in the main gym, against Shawswick. It was a highly defensive match. Parkview kept Shawswick under 10 points. It was insanity.
The Final Score
I’m extremely proud of the work Amelia and her team put in for the season and for the championship. Amelia wants to continue playing basketball, which means that I need to get my own butt in gear to help her train. Next year she advances to middle school, where she will get to take the name of another family mascot, The Stonecutters. If she does well, she’s a shoe-in for the Lady Stars at BNL, as my 2nd cousin is the athletic director. I think that would make the hearts of many in our family happy, as well as her papaw who is looking down upon her from wherever he is.
After the pomp and circumstance were over, I spoke with her coaches. I wanted to pay something forward. Something that was paid to me at that age, that has always meant the world to me.
The baseball team I played for was sponsored by a long gone restaurant called Mustards. They treated us like kings and provided us many meals on the house. I told Amelia’s coaches that these girls deserve that, and it’s all on me. I know she and a few of her teammates were all about going to Olive Garden. I gave the coaches my phone number and told them I would take care of the finances if they could get the girls together.
Our children are our future. If we show them that we are proud of them, oh the places they’ll go.
On this date in 1951, my father was born. In the sixty-three years he roamed this earth he had many adventures. Adventures I’m sure would have continued had his heart not beat it’s last beat in 2014.
It was a fitting way to memorialize him, by placing all of the things he loved on his marker
This day has become a solemn day for me. Primarily because it was always a day of excitement before the old man kicked the bucket. I loved celebrating my dad’s day of birth. I no longer have that same feeling of excitement.
My father worked hard, and lived even harder. The tales he told of eating piles of mashed potatoes at the Westinghouse cafeteria, boxes of girl scout cookies or entire boxes of Twinkies for lunch were plentiful. While I didn’t know it when I was younger really, my father also smoked until he passed. His last pack of cigarettes are still in his truck where he left them. I tried to get my parents to switch to vaping, but neither of them enjoyed it.
Knowing the things that led to his downfall, have given me clear signs of what to avoid. I used to have my own snack cake addiction, Zebra cakes to be exact. I used to drink soft drinks like it was going out of style. I no longer do that.
He was the kind of man that never met a stranger, and it annoyed the hell out of me. It’s the exact reason why I am not as open. Quick visits to the grocery store or gas station could take hours.
I often wonder what dad would think of the life I have rebuilt from the ashes of his passing and my eventual divorce. If he is proud of his one and only child. It’s a bit of torture that goes through my head each and every day.
Anyway, happy birthday old man. I love you, we didn’t say that enough to each other. We had our own way, and I don’t think that can be captured with someone else again.
