Cuz

On and off I've talked about our cousins here on this nearly obsolete blog.  But they were the sons of my mom's big brother and while we have some great memories and a closeness that's unlike most cousins, we also had cousins from my mother's older sister. 

We didn't get to see to my Uncle's sons that often, they lived in Alabama and we grew up in central Indiana.  

Mom's twin (my namesake) never had any children, but her older sister had four kids and they lived in my mom's small hometown.  We spent a lot of time with them, especially in the summer when we might stay with my grandmother for a week or two at a time and enjoy the sweet summer days.

My cousins lived an easy walk from my grandmother's house and so we spent a lot of time together as kids. 

And OHHH.  The stories we can tell.

My "youngest" big brother (CnC) turned 60 yesterday.  We had a very informal party at my house and on a whim I invited my cousin Kim who lived about an hour and a half away from us.

Kim was the youngest of all of my cousins, a good four years younger than me.  But we spent so much time together as kids, that we were very close growing up.  Their household was like nothing you can imagine.  It was the craziest, most bipolar household I have ever known.  You could stay all night and you never knew when you awoke if you would be laughing hysterically at the antics my aunt, uncle and cousins would pull or be cowering in the corner if the mood in the house would suddenly change.

I cannot see a Hot Wheels Track picture without remembering how the second oldest girl in the family used those sharp plastic suckers to whip the tar out of her brother.  Once when I was still laying in the hide-a-bed when she started out after her brother.  He fell on top of me trying to avoid the cobra like strikes coming from the mouth at the end of the plastic track which then meant any whiplash that missed him, hit me. 

Don't ask me why she began beating her younger brother.  I didn't question it at the time, it was just a routine bipolar relationship that we accepted of this wonderful, scary relationship we had with the entire family.

The oldest sister had ran off in the hippy days for months.  No one knew where she was.  When she returned, she moved back in the same house.

Late one night, my cousin Kim, her brother and I were playing some game in the what they called the rec room.  My aunt and uncle were asleep on the back side of the house.  Suddenly there appeared the oldest sister.  She began to scream at us at the top of her lungs, " SHUT UP.  You're going to wake up mom and dad."  I was struck at how loud she screamed versus our laughter and could imagine that her screaming could have created such seismic activity that she probably woke up my grandmother sleeping 1/4 of a mile away. 

Her brother, never learning when to keep his mouth shut to avoid some Abu Graib torture then yelled back, "Shut up you wild eyed drug addict."

Have I reiterated how much fun it was to stay all night with this family? 

With that accusation hanging in the air, his sister then went into full ISIS mode.  I could almost swear to you today that I could see these talons grow out of her fingertips and with a shriek that had my eardrums bleeding she grabbed ahold of my cousin and literally ripped the t-shirt off of his back.  I didn't even know that was possible until I watched it.

Of course the rest of the night was a complete blur, but for some reason I think we went back to playing the game as the rage had been expended.  God was in his heaven and all was right with the world

But here's the story that I thought of yesterday when my cousin Kim arrived at my house.  (I thought I wrote a post about this once, but can't find it now)

When we would stay all night at Grandma and Grandpa's house, we would sleep on a hide-a-bed in a room just off their front room.

Kim and I were still talking late one night, laying there giggling about something silly I'm sure, when we heard a car suddenly stop out front.  Within just a few seconds, not long enough for someone to get out of that car, we heard very distinct footsteps in the kitchen of the house.  Like a man's dress shoe footstep.  We were both frozen silent.  The sounds went through the kitchen and back around and then they stopped.  Within another couple of seconds, that car out front, who had been stopping there for the entire time for no apparent reason then took off. 

Both my grandparents were still asleep.  We both laid there, eyes wide open afraid to utter a word. 

A couple months ago, Kim and I met in Alabama at my aunt's funeral.  We haven't spent but a few hours together for 30 or 40 years now.  We brought up that night.  To this day we both distinctly remember the night in crystal clear detail and we, to this day cannot come up with a logical explanation as to where those noises came from and whether the car outside had anything to do with it.  There was no sound of any door opening or closing.

It still freaks us out somewhat since we both have it burned into our memory and we have no explanation of what those sounds were.

I have more crazy stories from this crazy side of my family, but I suppose those will have to wait for another day.

The Aliens are not in the skies in Greenwood.

This was captured a few days ago by a bicyclist in my hometown, about 30 minutes from where I live now. It's a phenomenon called Crown Flash which essentially is like lightning but in the clouds.

It's certainly cool. Warning: Strong language content.

Doo Doo Doo

Lookin' out my back door. 

Sadly there are no tambourines not elephants playing. 

However there is usually a bunny or two. 

Selfied Out

I'm sure no one would be surprised, but man, our culture has become so self absorbed. A couple weeks ago we went to Nashville, home of the Batman Building. It's claimed the architect did not realize he was designing a building which would look as if Batman was watching over the entire city.

We were in the city for four nights attended the CMAFest, which is basically four days and nights of country concerts.  The nightly concerts are at LP Stadium and each night features some big names in country music such as Brad Paisley, Carrie Underwood, Keith Urban and then some up and coming new artists also.

But what I found fascinating was the people watching.  The assigned seating means that you end up watching the same people around you all four nights. 

Such was the case of a really young girl that sat in front of us.  She was with an older big, bulky weight lifting fiend of a guy who seemed as if he could not have cared less if she was next to him.  I understood, because what we first noticed was her gorgeous short black hair.  It was impossible not to notice because she flipped her hair every 10 seconds or so.  It was a really irritating habit which I tried hard not to roll my eyes each time she did, or I would have been very dizzy by the end of the evening.

She looked about 16, but she might have been older.  The hulk sitting next to her looked late 20's.  And she would not leave him alone.  She was constantly poking him with her fingers, pinching his arm, touching his face not in a caress but as if the only thing she knew to do was try to irritate him.  Which it did.  There was never a sign of affection between the two, but it was obvious they were a couple.  A couple that didn't stand a chance in the long run. 

She, and soooo many others spent the entire weekend grabbing their cell phones and taking selfies.  A LOT of selfies.  I would bet half of the people sitting around us took more selfies that anyone would even need. 

Hulk's girlfriend had a Samsung phone, which I noticed most of the younger generation seems to be switching to.  She would then have to post every selfie to some social media, either Facebook or Twitter or something called My Stories.  I wasn't sure of what that last one was, maybe it's a Samsung thing.

The selfie stick made it's appearance all over the stadium.  Maybe I'm just becoming one of those old people who scream at kids, "Get off my lawn", but why spend a lot of money attending a bunch of concerts and then not pay any attention to the actual shows. 

Now there were some artists that I could have not wasted my time, but when Carrie Underwood or Keith Urban are performing, you really should be in the moment.  Not snapping some poorly posed picture of yourself with a huge jumbotron behind you showing the artist. 

It's not that it shows how self absorbed you are, but it's really irritating to the people around you.  We've created a generation that has to record their every moment and share it with the world.  LOOK UP.  You might actually just enjoy the show.

Especially if you're a straight guy. 

Yes. I Have Dropped Off the Face of the Earth

Well Earth, as I have known it now hitting 56 years.

We started our drive back to reality early Sunday morning, arriving at Normal Earth Monday afternoon.

We unpacked, trimmed the grass and grabbed a gallon of milk.

And here we are now, a good 48 hours back in looking out at the bright green grass and already bloomed out daffodils drop their last petals.

Yesterday morning I learned my last favorite aunt passed away at the age of 92. This same lady lost her son two years ago, when my brothers took him in and nursed him until he passed the night of Bob's spinal surgery. The same one who worried about her eldest son last year, when he lost his precious bride of 20 some years at the "not fair" age of 50. She was a gracious, gentile woman who used to watch me as a kid because she didn't birth a daughter and you could just FEEL that she had always wanted a little girl to teach her how to be a gentle woman. Unfortunately I have never been a girly girl. Aunt Nancy needed a girly girl.

But in the meantime, since we left here two days after Christmas, I can tell you we experienced life like we didn't know could exist. I finally saw Bob relax and enjoy life like never before. Even during some stressful times. About two months ago, they had to take his mother into a nursing home (I'm sure they are called something nicer now) with stage 4 dementia. We have known something was wrong for 4 or 5 years now, but getting someone help is never as easy as it seems, especially when they still have enough of their faculties to convince some unconcerned doctor.

We were relieved she was finally getting the care she needed, but we were not the ones facing the wrath of a strong woman who believed everyone was plotting against her to force her somewhere she didn't want to be. But her health and that of her husband was much better served with her being placed somewhere safer.

And then tomorrow I'll head south with a handful of my family to honor a lady who thankfully had her sharp wit up until yesterday morning when her health finally gave out.

I haven't quite settled in here enough to tell you that I feel like I'm home. I know the stress is back and that is never fun. And certainly not how I want to live out my final days.

I set out the bird feeders and bird bath today, weeding the landscaping and cut back the dead clematis. May is wonderful in Indiana. Yeah, I know it's a couple days away.

I'm counting the days until we drive back to the Un-Reality.

Life is Different Here

It really is.

About two years ago now, we decided that would be our last winter in Indiana.  We've owned property in Fort Myers, going on about 12 years now.  And we were always renting during the winter season to Snow Birds (as they are called down in SW Florida).  Those people who escape winter's worst months to warmer climates.

Some might remember, we were facing Bob's upcoming spinal surgery to remove the tumor that was destroying his gait and his calf and left him, as he says, "a half-assed man".

So last year we actually did it.  We were delayed to January 4th and we bugged out of Indy as Chuck Lofton was predicting blizzard like conditions.  We scooted on down to Valdosta, stopping for the night, carried my orchids into the hotel because even that far south was experiencing colder than normal temps.

As we made our way to the Florida state line that next morning, we noticed the sun shining bright and the temps increasing rapidly.  About an hour into our morning drive, we rolled down the windows and breathed a big sigh of relief.

It took a bit of adjustment.  The coach home we have owned since 2007 is in a great community.  We had not yet met many people other than a few of our neighbors.  January last year was pretty cold, even in SW Florida.  So the windows were kept closed and we didn't venture out to the pool or the beach.

Then February came and with it brought outdoor temps. 

And then we got to know nearly all of our neighbors. 

That's when life changed. 

I have always lived what some people think is the country.  It's not actually, but people who live in communities where the houses are packed together believe it is.   We own about an acre and a half.  Across the street, they have the pleasure of mowing about 5 acres.  So we wave to our neighbors and maybe once every two weeks go out to dinner with friends.  It's nice, we enjoy it.  But that is about all of the socializing we do.

And then we became Snow Birds. 

Even with the slow start last year, by February and March, we would be sitting at home and up would walk one of our neighbors asking if we would like to come over for dinner, or go out to a restaurant.  It was such a change from our routine in Indiana. 

And we loved it.  We had planned to stay until the end of March, but delayed our return to mid-April.  Our first morning back in Indiana came with snow whipping around our house.  I did not feel welcomed.

We were able to leave in late December this winter.  When we got here, many of our buddies we had made last season were still up north for Christmas.  It didn't take long to settle in our "retired" feeling routine.

For those few who read here and at my brother's place, you already know he is spending the winter down here as well.  For years, while I was working, he and Bob would come down for 2 to 3 weeks in January before our renters would arrive.  When he arrived last year, we went to visit my mother's cousin (who calls me "once removed" but calls my sister his cousin, how does that work?).  He was volunteering at a state park in exchange for parking his RV free of charge for the winter.  That led Mark to his nomadic lifestyle he is now thrilled to be living.

For these 15 or so weeks out of the year, it feels absolutely free.  Gone are the early alarm clocks buzzing us awake at 5 o'dark.  Gone are the pain in the ass bosses who delight in making everyone miserable.  It feels like we are finally enjoying what we have worked so very hard for.

It will always remind me that Bob is now knocking on the door of 67.  Which draws me back to my father's retirement back in 1991 when Bob and I were first married.  He retired in June at the age of 59.  In August he was diagnosed with liver cancer and by the end of January, just a few dozen days past his Christmas birthday, he passed away as we held his hands and feet.  How very little time he had to enjoy his freedom. 

Wait.  This was meant to be a feel-good post

But life is short.   And we need to make sure we live each day as if it will be our last.  And we fail at that so often.

But right now, life is just so good.  It was warm today in the later afternoon.  Next thing I know, Bob had talked with Mark and they had their fishing poles and bought their fresh water fishing license and were heading to the park located directly behind our complex.  I joined them for a little while, but when the fishing looked like it was going to be a series of Mark catching stick fish, I walked back to our coach home.

Then Bob sent me this picture.  

We are still trying to figure out what kind of fish it was. 

I figure if they are going to be catching that big of fish practically in our own backyard, I need to buy a filet knife.  Nothing better than fresh caught fish.

I haven't bought my fishing license yet.  But believe me, I would rather fish than anything else down here.  Especially deep sea fishing. 

But that's another license and another story for another day.

Stunning silence - He Said She Said - He Said

A continuing He Said She Said Series with a twist.  Our "brother from another mother" from the internet is joining us for this edition.  Welcome Ed from Not of This World. (This guy below is not Ed)

I guess I must first address all of the negative hype going around concerning the movie, "American Sniper".  I had heard those Hollywood idiots which I will not even name because they are not worthy in being mentioned in a post regarding a true American hero.  I'm always amazed at the Hollywood pansies who sit at home with their $60 million dollars and think what they have to say actually matters to anyone but themselves.  Armchair warriors/pacifist are allowed to spew their vile because they are cocooned in their safe little world because of people like Chris Kyle. 

Enough about them.  They aren't worth the blinking cursor time..

We decided we wanted to see American Sniper, but honestly, I was a bit concerned about Bob going with me.  Starting Christmas Eve every year, he is haunted by the memories of Christmas Eve 1969.  Each year the memory seems to become more vivid.  I have heard some theories that many of the Nam guys who has spent their lives productively are finding retirement brings with it full blown PTSD.  You see, they have kept busy, deliberately so.  Now that there is time to sit back and relax, many can't because their minds drift to the worse part of their lives.

Originally I had asked my brother, CnC to join me since he too has come to Fort Myers for the winter.  You'll find those stories at his place.  I began hearing about the huge crowds, so I decided to book the tickets early through Fandango.  When I told Bob, he said he wanted to go.  I've learned I have to let make those decisions.

We met Mark at the Imax Theater.  Several of my friends had already seen the movie and raved about it.  I felt like I might be at the top of a big roller coaster.

During the previews of other movies, all of which were filled with violence, weapons, bombs, etc.  Mark leaned over and said, "Amazing how Hollywood despises guns, huh?" 

For those critics who thought it horrible that Kyle and his buddies called the terrorists savages and evil, it takes only the first scene to understand why their descriptions are on point.  When a mother sees nothing wrong with handing their 5 year old kid an RPG to take out American soldiers, then savage and evil are mild compared to what I want to call them.

Bradley Cooper was simply amazing as Kyle.  His preparation in the physical and mental roles was extensive.  He gained 40 pounds in just 10 weeks for the role, all muscle.  In one scene, Cooper deadlifts 400 lbs.  They originally wanted to create fake weights, but Cooper refused.  Kyle's father and wife have all said that Cooper did an amazing job creating Kyle's walk and mannerisms. 

This was the third movie I've watched featuring the amazing job these SEALs do.  The last thirty minutes of Zero Dark Thirty had me on the edge of my seat as did Lone Survivor.  I read Lone Survivor which went into a great bit of detail regarding the training of the SEALs.  I am constantly amazed they could endure that type of physical and mental training.  

What was most striking about the movie was the ending scenes.  Everyone (except two clueless idiots) just sat and watched.  That was when the tears started in great waves.  I had thought to being plenty of Kleenex.  I had several in my hand when I noticed some face wiping to my left, where CnC was sitting.  I kept my eyes on the screen, grabbed a few more Kleenex and quietly handed them over.

When the credits started rolling the entire theater stood quietly and no one spoke.  No one.  Everyone proceeded to the exits and there was only very quiet whispers, as if we were leaving a church after a funeral.  Sober and somber.  It felt respectful.  As if we were giving Kyle the honor he deserved.

I am optimistic that the movie is doing so well.  Knowing that it matters not what some pampered ass celebrity says about the movie or the man.  It shows that Americans really do believe the SEALs are the good guys.  Maybe some are again getting convinced that America is exceptional, in spite of the last five years of the political leaders attempts at convincing us otherwise. 

God rest your soul Chris Kyle. 

To see what my "brothers" had to say, read CnC's version here and my internet brother's version here.