It’s been three months since I’ve written in my blog, and to me that’s a genuine dis-service. Life has not been easy on me for a few months. Between my back issues, increasing and ever present tensions at my employer across the board, and some financial difficulties, I just want to hide.
And so that has been a lot of my life as of late, hiding. I go to work because I would lose everything I have if I didn’t. But then? Then I hide away. Spending much of my time in my bedroom either asleep or with something on my TV while I doze in and out of consciousness.
Spoon Theory is a good metaphor for how I feel.
The things that used to be easy, take much of the finite amount of energies I do have. I have been doing a lot of looking within as of late, and I don’t like what I see.
I purchased a new dishwasher, which led into me replacing my kitchen floor. I didn’t want to put this nice appliance in with such a hideous floor, one that had been there since quite possibly the mid 1980’s.
I take pride in my abilities to do manual labor, but my body has been saying no to such ventures more and more to the point where I just need to stop trying and start giving into what my body is telling me.
The existing floor is (or should I say was) was compromised of two layers of linoleum. Full of bumps and holes and all of the bad parts of the 80’s. I first wanted to go with a classic black and white checkerboard look. Unfortunately I couldn’t find a supplier that had what I was looking for that was as durable as I wanted. That’s when I made the choice to upgrade to tile, an area that I’ve never worked in before.
We found a tile we liked, and since my girlfriend’s place has a tile kitchen I knew I wanted it to have a heating system. So I pulled a very expensive trigger.
Mittens in LTR or Leather finish
I wanted to do the prep work, so they could just come in and lay the tile. I “thought” I was proceeding properly, but learned yesterday I was wrong. Part of our contract was for me to remove the appliances, trim and ensure the subfloor was at least 5/8″ thick. I missed a little detail though. They wanted it to be in OSB.
The subfloor of my entire home is comprised of what is commonly called chipboard. It’s essentially dust from woodworking that’s glued together and compressed to form a dimensional, workable piece of wood. It has a couple of real negatives. Water will cause it to disintegrate, and it isn’t as solid as other forms of sub flooring, something needed and in most cases required for tile.
My first step in preparing the area was to remove the way the water line for the ice maker was configured and install a “box” in the wall for it. Oddly, while doing this I discovered that someone had already drilled a hole for this purpose but never completed the task. Someone had just drilled a hole in the floor and ran a line through it.
I will fix the additional space I had to cut below after the tile is installed
Last weekend, I began the real preparations as I thought they would be. My neighbor helped me pickup some 4’x8′ sheets of 1/4″ luan plywood. This is commonly used to make flooring smoother or increase the thickness of the floor. I was using it for the latter purpose.
I removed all of the appliances, sans the dishwasher and was going to begin on removing the existing flooring on Saturday morning. I woke to discover my wonderful girlfriend had removed the vast majority of it while I was sleeping.
Her at bottom, her daughter at left
We both felt that the lower layer of flooring was much better looking than the one above it. I wonder why they put new flooring down that was less durable and definitely not as visually pleasing?
I took all of the old stuff downstairs, and cleaned the floor. We noticed some spots seemed to have black mold on them, probably from water leaks over the years. So I bought some mold killing sprays and sprayed them down.
Then I brought that luan up and called it a night. I only had 1 day left, but those activities alone had taken all the strength I had out of me. My injured back was also screaming at me.
So I laid 2 sheets of the luan down, removed the dishwasher and thought they would just lay the rest of the luan down. Boy was I wrong.
Now I’ll be spending roughly $500 more on this project, not due to what I did – but because of what my body couldn’t do. Something my soul used to love doing. My soul needs that harmony back in in some way. I just need to learn the lines of what I can and cannot do.
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.
While annexation in Bloomington is primarily a dead issue, areas 1A and 1B were not successful in completely squashing the attempt. They did however achieve enough verified petitions for remonstrance to have the case reviewed by a judge.
I have been keeping an eye on the social media site NextDoor, where my Township Trustee typically makes her official statements. There seemed to be an outcry of people wanting to raise funds and hire an attorney to use this final tool given to them by the state.
I told her when this all began that I would do whatever I could, whenever I could. So I began a gofundme for the explicit purpose of raising those funds, based on the leadership I had been provided by my Township Trustee.
I did not want to share this personally, this issue does not affect me directly. Legally I have no say in how this annexation goes as I am not being annexed. Sure I can have an opinion, and I do. I would rather leave opinions to the side however. I did feel that informing the local press might be a good idea though, so I reached out to a personal hero who was a journalist for a long time to seek guidance on writing a press release.
He gave me a extensive and amazing primer that I followed. I then sent it to 3 outlets, with another asking for it the next day.
This led to being interviewed by 3 news outlets and a journalism student that another friend decided he would sic on me. Thanks Leo.
The first thing to hit was the front page of the Herald-Times on March 8th, 2022.
Then, on Friday March 11th I was on WFIU and WTIU (our local PBS affiliate). They used an audio clip of me and a video clip.
Meanwhile, it appeared to me that the wind that was in the sails from the people I looked to in this entire situation had to step aside. I’m no politician and I will never understand the games they play.
I felt a large responsibility to all of those who had donated. With the help of some volunteers upwards of 30 attorneys were called. Most of which have either not returned calls or stated that they had a “conflict of interest.” The lawyer I was originally told was going to take the case had to step down for similar reasons, and another I had spoken with was relying upon a local attorney to file the case before he would become involved. There is one local attorney that several referred me to, but I have still not received any communications from him. He is apparently “the” guy for this exact situation.
If you were paying close attention to the video clip, you will notice the County Residents Against Annexation sign. I had seen them in some of the more influential and better off areas of the county, but not mine. We had our own signs. It soon become clear that they were some sort of power as people would cite them as they stated they could not longer help with this effort.
Nevertheless I persisted.
I had a phone call with the president of CRAA, who introduced herself to me by boasting about accomplishments and listing “things” she had done, overall trying to somehow impress me. It only did the opposite. She then crossed the boundary, she asked that I give them all of the funds raised in the gofundme.
This is my response to that question.
I have since received several negative messages about this organization through the gofundme. I’ve received many messages from it, I have responded to most of them in kind.
CRAA from what I know has not focused on the area I live near, but the areas ripe with cash and/or retirees. I do not know them from Adam nor will I speak on behalf of them.
I will however work with them (as difficult as it has been at times) to complete the mission, to let the residents use all tools legally available to them to stop this over reaching annexation by the city of Bloomington. An action that is really tantamount to a tax heist. When looking at the balance sheet, across the board the only org with a positive change are the city’s coffers. Even the public schools and county library will lose money. For me, that’s a non-starter.
I have not hidden behind an organization, I have used my name. In the end when dealing with community issues that is akin to putting it all on the line. The only way to be is to be honorable and moral. If I didn’t follow the will of my community members, I can literally see a “torches and pitchforks” situation occurring.
This has definitely been a very interesting experience in local political theater, reaffirming why my feelings of anarchy run deep to my core. My love for my immediate neighbors however will never fail or falter.
I’m writing this blog post early on a Saturday morning while I give technology assistance for a series of talks being given by pediatric healthcare professionals, one of which being my own pediatrician who was also the pediatrician for my own daughters.
The first part of the week was extremely difficult on my body, still primarily in significant amounts of pain from my still not completely but partially diagnosed problem. The department I work for remodeled two office spaces. While they hired moving and setups to move the equipment out, they wanted me to move it all back. Sigh.
So I got to work on Monday, and spent most of the week ensuring it was all done. That said, in their grand plan they didn’t consider the infrastructure that was also needed to be moved during this remodel. Since I wasn’t even consulted about any of this, a new and ever increasing trend, I am going to let them lay in the bed they made. I had to run a cable across one room so a computer would have network access.
A office, created from what was open space
Then, the real bang for the week. I seem to have become a “figure” in the county’s continued fight against Annexation by the city of Bloomington, which I have written about before: https://lee-lawmaster.com/no/ https://lee-lawmaster.com/a-nail-in-the-coffin/
My township trustee typically places her official communications to community members on the social media site NextDoor. On one post in particular, many were asking about how we can take the next (and final step) in fighting annexation, taking our case to court as we are allowed to by law. I use the word “we” metaphorically as I am not a member of any areas that are being annexed. Several asked about the creation of a go-fund-me as a common place to donate funds to hire counsel and get the process started.
This is when my “man of action” senses took over, and I made one. I then told all in that thread about it, providing them the link and told them to share. It has kind of blown up.
The township trustee said we would need a minimum of $10,000 to hire counsel, so I set the goal accordingly. I have heard from several in the business community who want to provide large donations as well. Per state law, if the case is sided for the remonstrators, they (members of the class to be annexed) can receive up to $37,500 back for legal fees.
Unaware of what attention this was getting, not seeing any mention of this on any other social media platforms, I reached out to a man I admire. He’s an amazing photojournalist and a self described pirate. He runs a respected news outlet locally that I try to support as much as possible, The Bloomingtonian. He asked for a press release and the wheels started spinning in my mind. I also had a phone conversation with the man that runs B Square Beacon. He said that he would put it in his daily release as a bullet point. I had never spoken or interacted with him before, it was kind of exciting.
I can barely write, now to write a structured document that you spread far and wide? HOW? So I reached out to a hero and friend of mine that knows a thing or two about press releases, Joe Nickell. In his very peculiar yet amazing way he gave me a 101 course on how to write one, including a couple of his own examples. I was off to the races.
Using Joe’s guidance, I wrote it and sent it to both places I previously mentioned plus the Herald Times, our “local” paper that has been taken over by a mega corp. Then I told my friend Michael Leonard about it, who runs The B-Town Bee and is a former long time columnist with the Herald Times. He said he would sic one of his journalism students on me, and HE DID. Gee, thanks there pal.
The Herald Times government reporter wanted to interview me, and before I knew it I was getting texts from an unknown number that was that journalism student. The reporter for the Herald Times said that they are putting a piece together for publication on Monday. The journalism student interviewed me as well, and introduced herself as being with the IDS (the IU Student newspaper) instead of being personal.
I have had almost daily calls with my township trustee as updates to the ongoing situation and feel as if I’ve become a central figure to this. I was just trying to help my neighbors, I love my neighbors and I love the area in which I grew up and live to this day.
I also received an odd email from a person representing a “news” site I had never heard of, The Lawrence County Zephyr. My youngest daughter, who lives in Lawrence county had never heard of it either. I sent him the press release and he published it.
The Gist of It
5 of 7 areas Bloomington wanted to annex received enough petitions for remonstrance to stop it, pending any litigation the city may file due to their believe that a state law that created an expiration date for utility waivers is unconstitutional. 2 of the areas received enough petitions for remonstrance to take their cases to court and be ruled by a judge.
Stolen from B Square Beacon and highly appreciated
State law states the court filing has to be done within 15 working days of the auditors released findings. Hence the rush. This is the only tool my neighbors in 1A have to use to stop this annexation from happening. We cannot leave 1B in the cold, and have been inclusive of them as well.
This annexation has been full of drama, with the state passing a law that was later ruled unconstitutional that stopped it for a few years. It’s also wide swathing with little promises for a big price.
Personally I call it a tax heist, as the tax rates for these areas will in some cases more than double, with those funds going to the city. My own tax rates will rise 26% per a county council member. Many question if any services the city promises will deliver will ever be delivered. This can also remove choice from the table for many people in these areas. The police department is under staffed and under paid, this will add to the stresses they are already facing, creating an even more hostile police force. The public school system that covers most of the county, MCCSC will also lose over 1 million dollars annually, at last I read.
Thankfully in the time period between when the first attempt was stopped and the second began, our township fire departments got together and created a Fire Protection District, which is protected from annexations. Originally the city was going to severely gut these fire departments, which are a staple in the communities they serve. A major factor in my choice to purchase a home where I did was it’s vicinity to a particular fire station.
It has required an increase in property taxes – but one I appreciate. Something the city does not exactly understand. They just put out bonds for millions of dollars and increase taxes on it’s residents to pay for it. Members of the city council have stated that they don’t listen to the people that elected them. I want nothing to do with the city, and showed as such during the first “informational” meeting they held. This meeting was just city hall full of signs, there was no actual meeting.
Over the years, my stepmother has found odds and ends that were my dad’s. When she does, she lets me know about the items and asks me if I would like them. One time she found a bowling trophy, and I definitely wanted it.
While it was sitting on my couch, it fell off onto my carpeted floor for some reason and the pot metal figure broke. What do I do? The trophy wasn’t exactly important, but the information contained on it was to me. It documents a time and age that no longer exists.
I reached out to the Engraving & Stamp Center, which is the only place I know of locally that creates such items. The timing was bad unfortunately, as the COVID-19 Pandemic had just begun, and the climate was strange for just about anything.
I made an appointment, and we found a figurine that was almost identical to the original one. I was told I would get a call back when it was done, but didn’t hear anything back until yesterday.
My father’s bowling trophy – restored
It’s not a large trophy, my own baseball trophy is larger. It’s the words on the plate that matter more.
WESTINGHOUSE MIXED 82-83 HIGH GAME HDCP . -285 RICHARD
Westinghouse was the company my father worked for from 1969 until 1999 when they shut down. He was 6 months shy of receiving a full retirement when they closed, and spent the rest of his life trying to get “something” of those 30 years he spent there as an employee.
My maternal grandmother and grandfather worked there as well, with her retiring shortly before they closed, and he passing away on his job in 1988.
The name Westinghouse doesn’t mean much to most anymore, but it will always hold a special place in my heart. The income derived from the positions my family held with the company provided us with a decent life, a life that didn’t worry about where we would get our next meal, or if we would have a roof over our head.
Locally, they produced power distribution equipment, such as lightning arrestors.
My father has a different award regarding what they produced at the factory, this is more about the community that was found in the blue collar side of my home town.
They all had bowling leagues, softball leagues and I’m sure other sports leagues that included their own fields on company property and comradery that I haven’t experienced really. RCA and OTIS even had Christmas events for the children of employees, where each child got to meet Santa and receive a Chistmas present.
When I was 12, my mother was working for General Electric (one of the other large manufacturers in town, that I would eventually work for) and was playing in their softball league. She recruited me to help with her team. This was my first experience first hand with the social lives of the industrial workers in the area. I was told that I would be playing for the C-83 team, not knowing a thing about the organization of large industrial complexes, I took my cubs hat and took a square piece of paper that said 83, displaying C 83. We played a game against C-80 (the area of the plant where I would eventually work). It was a great time.
Sure, there are recreational sports leagues for all. There’s just something special when those leagues are with the people you work with. This is the Bloomington I grew up in. This is the Bloomington I miss. This is the Bloomington that made it a small town. This is the Bloomington that it seems to want to forget. This is the Bloomington I will never forget.
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.
My body isn’t the only thing falling apart, my house is as well. It’s time I rectify the problems before I’m drowning in them. Who am I kidding, I am drowning in them.
Almost four years ago, after returning from a vacation I came home to discover that the bath faucet for my main bathroom would not shut off completely. This began #reno2018. I had already tried to refurbish the faucet, and was informed no parts were made for it anymore. The only option was to replace. However, my financial attentions were distracted after spending roughly $3000 on the shower/bath areas alone.
I was however able to use child labor for a vast majority of the work.
How has she changed since this photo was taken.
Unfortunately, the piece called a drop elbow (this is what your shower head attaches to) was faulty and had to be replaced. The water it leaked has caused mold to start to form essentially in the top left corner of this photo. I will possibly have to replace all of the drywall in that area as well.
The rest of the plans for the bathroom include changing the light fixtures, including the exhaust fan, a new sink and lavatory, new mirror, new electrical receptacles and switches, door and the major feature being a nickel floor (a floor made from nickels).
How I left the remodel
The other major item is unfortunately my kitchen as well. Immediately after purchasing this home, all of the kitchen appliances decided to quit working. Fifteen years of use have provided their toil on them, and so the dishwasher said it was done. I purchased a new one, which has been delivered but not installed. Why? The kitchen floor is in horrible shape, and I’d rather replace it before installing this new quite fancy dishwasher.
The first step in that process is to move the water line that goes to the ice maker in my refrigerator. When originally installed, a hole was simply drilled into the floor. Over the years I have just used it as is.
Today, I installed what is called an “icemaker box.” These are made to be installed before the walls are installed, which made the installation problematic.
Step 1, cut hole in wall next to stud
As you can see in the above photo, that water line coming up through the floor. The floor is a 2nd layer on top of the original kitchen floor. Both being made of what is commonly called linoleum.
Then came the not so fun part. I assumed I would have to drill a hole through the bottom plate to give passage to the water line, but I was in luck – there was already a hole existing. The 1/2″ PEX tubing fit. But fitting this box into this hole became an issue, so I cut some additional drywall out to give room for the water line coming out of the bottom of the box.
Installed, but not yet complete
When trying to position the “ears” on the side of the box between the drywall and the stud, they just instantly snapped off. It was frustrating to say the least. That said, the width of the whole I cut was snug enough to hold the box, and the face place gives more friction which causes the box to not really move at all.
The only thing left is to actually connect the line, which I will wait to do until the floor is replaced. I will do this by cutting the PEX to fit, and attaching with a 1/2″ female thread adapter to where the line is connected currently.
I am hiring the job of replacing the floor out, to who I’m not entirely sure yet. The last job I ever did as a contractor was just this, replacing a kitchen floor. It’s actually part of why I’m hiring it out. While moving their refrigerator back, I ruined the floor. I was completely embarrassed.
My primary want on the floor is for it to be a black & white checkerboard vinyl tile. I am not a fan of regular tile due to the temperature fluctuations. These vinyl tiles fascinate me to the point where I legitimately want them in my own home. This is not “peel & stick” but legitimate tile.
Just a random example.
However, it seems hard to find. So I am looking at alternatives. I plan on changing my cabinets to white, with black stone countertops. I might go with something that gives a natural stone look as I prefer the French Country Kitchen look.
Unfortunately this is only the beginning of a lot of updates/fixes that have been a long time coming. I just wished my back felt better so I could do more.
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.
Less than a month after we returned from our almost month long venture in Louisiana, it was hit by a hurricane that tested all of the repairs New Orleans had made after Katrina destroyed many of the systems that keep this city from being underwater.
My friend, Bart Everson stayed to defend New Orleans, while his partner and daughter came back to where they just vacationed, my hometown. At this point, they are all seasoned New Orleanians but I was still worried.
They moved after Katrina to a nicer home, but it isn’t too far away from their old one, which had roughly 6 feet of water in it due to the levee’s failing.
Utility Room by Editor B
This is what I was worried about. This is what I was concerned about. That’s an image of the interior of their home after Katrina. Being the God like creature he is, my friend was able to score a press pass and sneak into the city while it was closed to everyone. It was then when he took this photo and cleaned out the entire first floor of his home. It was the contributing factor in the saving of the home.
Most of my concerns were relieved however, as my friend is fine. The only real damage that he knows of to their home is that their little free library was destroyed, and the TV antenna on top of their roof was taken by the hurricane winds.
Power was restored to their home yesterday, but half a million are still without power. He announced shortly after we left that he is running for city council in New Orleans, on his platform that has awed and inspired me for decades. One of living with nature, instead of against it as we have for hundreds of years.
He posted this right before the hurricane hit
This man has been an inspiration to me since I was literally 11 years old. Even though that inspiration has shifted from star struck wonder to that of true friendship, it amazes me that he is able to still be that beacon of light to me. I would vote for him if I were able.
The Crescent City has wooed me with her charms, and shaken up so many things that were cores to my beliefs. Bart moved there because he couldn’t stand the cold, I’m oddly comfortable there because I have issues with midwestern heat.
My thoughts and my heart are with all of those in the south and northeast who were affected by Hurricane Ida.
