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TORNADOS

December 16, 2021 / PAPA

BE AWARE

Recent tornados caused enormous death and destruction in America’s midsection. The concentrated violence of this weather related event is sobering. Its haphazard formation and unpredictable path adds to the fear tornados can inspire. Approximately one thousand occur each year in the United States. It is probably a misnomer to describe a “small” or “mild” tornado. If its concentrated force hits just right, then serious destruction, injury or death can happen. Always take warnings and watches seriously.

In the 1950’s a huge storm crossed our lake in Northern Wisconsin. It caught my attention. We soon learned that the storm had spawned a tornado. I was surprised because I thought in terms of “Tornado Alley” where such storms were located in books and movies. It struck a wilderness area far north of OZ. We drove to see its path. A clear cut through the state forest was perhaps 100 feet wide and stretched as far as I could see. The trees were simply leveled and a few shards of stumps remained at the edges. Later, I overheard locals say it was a small tornado. Yet, I knew that if a cabin, automobile or person was near the path it would have been a bigger deal. So, there is also an element of luck with tornados.

Don’t take chances. I remember in the 1970’s and 1980’s that we sometimes took refuge in the basement when the weather service issued tornado warnings. Gather the family and kids who might be visiting and head to safety was the routine. There of course were those who pooed pooed the need because “it doesn’t look that bad.” I can attest that there is a definite “calm before the storm” aspect to an approaching tornado. At least there was on a specific spring day when the wind died down and an eerie feeling crept into my heart. So, we sought safety just before we lost a few windows to the tornado. A Kohl’s food store nearby lost some of its roof and a few houses west of us had damage. It appeared that the tornado skipped through town. Shelter is no guarantee of survival as was true for some in this month’s monster storms. But, a better safe than sorry prescription still makes the most sense.

Sense, especially common sense is what I urge for all things. This is very true when dealing with nature. It is strong, relentless and can be dangerous. However, don’t go through life in fear of what could happen. There is too much beauty and adventure to be enjoyed in nature. Just be aware of your surroundings; including approaching weather.

JENIFER HOUSE COOKIES

December 12, 2021 / PAPA

It was a great day to bake cookies and concoct other Christmas delights with grandkids. Memories were especially stirred when baking wondrous molasses cookies from back east. Many a Christmas visit to the Berkshires included a trek on Route 7 to the mecca of holiday aromas. What cookie could go wrong with molasses, brown sugar and spices? Along with butter. Lots of butter.

It was a fun day to experiment with this tried and true recipe. First, we baked one batch in a conventional oven and a second in a convection oven. I didn’t know we had two oven options to use. Thanks for bringing this to my attention. I assumed convection was a misspelling on the control panel. Never used it. I guess convection is a recent invention; similar to cell devices that also have more than one function I’m told.

Taste testing different baking outcomes was enlightening. Conventional won. Be still my heart but I even took the bold step of baking some dough not yet refrigerated for 24 hours. That did make a more significant difference. Fats need time to cool. Flavors expand to decadency. It’s been a good baking season. A rough calculation is 92,633 calories.

The highlight of the day was learning two important things. First, the word “chork”. Despite my insistence there was no such word, the whipper snappers proved me wrong. A fork/chop stick? Really? But, the word exists. Secondly, my chest nearly exploded with pride when the little rascals tried to bamboozle Papa. They attempted to fabricate a fictional definition of chork. They were teasing Papa. Devious minds sought to trick Papa. I have never been so proud. They are getting it. All of Papa’s silliness and deceitful joking was coming home to roost. Gone are the days of perplexed glances from them as they wonder if Papa is serious or simply crazy. The shoe is on the other foot. In my twilight years I will be no match for their nimble minds. It will be me that will be left dangling in torment when they dash away after a joke too subtle for me to grasp. It is a wonderful life.

HEART HEALTH

December 6, 2021 / PAPA

DECEMBER 7th 1988 was as good as any other day for quadruple bypass surgery.

HOW DID SUCH A NICE PERSON GET INTO THIS MESS?

SLOW FREIGHT: “Heart disease is insidious,” intoned my somber cardiologist. I heard him loud and clear. He had my full attention. The previous day he gouged a new access route to my heart. “I don’t think we’ll find much,” was his prophecy at the start of my catherization. I felt pressure on my arm when he began his push towards my heart. Within seconds he said, “We’re in the heart.” My exact thought was what’s this “we” stuff? I was not an active participant. I was flat on my back, staring in the opposite direction from his cutting and insertion activities.

“Insidiousness” translated to quadruple by-pass surgery for me. Heart disease had been a slow moving train chugging mindlessly forward. Clog, clog, clog. Suddenly, while futzing inside a chamber, my cardiologist threw a directional switch. To a fast track. On an express train. All aboard!

WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAUSED MY OWN BYPASS SURGERY?

I had no problem accepting responsibility for the quadruple stitches deep inside my chest. I know how to assign responsibility. I do not shirk from personal liability for the damage I did to myself when I wandered, ever so slightly, from a dedicated life of moderation. I was a big boy. I know what causes heart disease. The seven causes of coronary artery disease were graphically depicted on huge wall charts lining the corridor of the hospital’s coronary care unit. Each day of my recovery I shuffled along those halls with a distant, forlorn expression. Life sustaining goo spewed forth from an I.V. tree that I dragged with me on those strolls. In those days walking the length of a hospital hallway represented a wondrous medical outcome in my mind.

Being alive never hurt so damn much. but, it was a good pain. Because I was not chugging along at a brisk pace I had plenty of time to be indoctrinated by the cardiologists’ charts of condemnation. You should know that medical folks are not bashful about instilling guilt in their patients. Perhaps that is why so many of our best hospitals are Catholic. Drawings of bright red coronary arteries, each as wide as an autobahn, were depicted. Alongside were faint sketches of crinkling, pinkish arteries plugged with waxy muck. The bright arteries looked vibrant, as if joyous that the blood of life sluiced smoothly against their walls. The unhealthy arteries looked stressed and tired, ready to throw in the towel by clutching a passing clot in order to rest in perpetuity. The contrast between obviously healthy arteries and my shamefully abused pathways triggered a sincere determination on my part to change my life. So, naturally, I began to bargain with God.

With thirteen tubes, six intravenous lines and a pair of electrode “jump starters” protruding from my limp body, bargaining seemed a wise choice at the time. However, bargaining near a precipice is not a road for you to travel. Don’t get into that situation. Live a healthy life. Never smoke. Exercise on a regular basis. Limit unhealthy foods. Avoid being overweight. You can’t dodge family medical history but all the more reason to pay attention to your health. Chase the elusive goal of moderation. Did I mention never smoking? Never, ever.

PESKY TASKS

December 4, 2021 / PAPA

Cellophane nearly did Papa in the other night. What should have been a joyous time baking cookies became a nightmare. Crushed candy canes were needed. Everyone knows that cellophane was used to wrap candy canes since at 1920. But, the wrap of my youth was always loosey, goosey. It was limply encasing the cane. Air gaps, similar in size to black holes, existed at both ends. A large air bubble was accommodated at the J curve. Lots of places to snag and pull. Or, cut. Or, best yet, rip off with teeth.

Today’s candy canes are snuggly protected under a clinging sheath that defies opening. It is the most advanced process yet developed to render Papa powerless and vulnerable. My self-esteem went south when shrewd lawyers decided that he best defense against product liability was the make it impossible to use a product. Thus, much to my chagrin, courses, degrees and schools that specialize in packaging engineering were created. If any on my grandkids ever wish to pursue “packaging engineering” for sadistic profit please be aware of page 37, paragraph 12, subsection k of my last will and testament.

I’d rather that a progeny develop a new merit badge with the Boy Scouts as a Senior Content Accessible Guide. Just as useful as walking the elderly across a crosswalk. And, safer for the scout.

ST. NICK’S EVE

December 4, 2021 / PAPA

December 5th

The wonderment of the holiday season continues. St. Nick’s night is mainly celebrated in the Midwest. That is especially true near its German and Dutch enclaves of old. I remember it well. It amounted to a sneak peek of Christmas. It was dark outside very early and so there was mystique to hanging a stocking even if bedtime was 8 or 8:30. St. Nicholas was the patron saint of children. Noted for being generous, a tradition arose that he’d leave gifts for kids the night before his saint day.

Thus, to verify that myths are true, we were up and at it the next morning. ( An early rising ritual that did not take full root during Papa’s adulthood.) It also was practice for Santa and the Easter Bunny. And, not to be overlooked, for the dime toting tooth fairy. St. Nick filled the stockings with huge naval oranges, popcorn balls and unshelled nuts. All stuffed inside a stocking rimmed with candy canes. A grand tradition that led to many memorable mornings.

Establishment of a tradition within the family is a good thing. It does not matter if stockings or wooden shoes are involved or if its trinkets, candy or whatever that is found inside. A child enjoys anticipation and the surprise of discovery. When you are an adult never forget to nourish the spirit of children.

ROE V. WADE

November 30, 2021 / PAPA

Perhaps this Supreme Court decision will soon be mentioned in a civics/social studies course. There are media reports that current cases with the Supremes may impact the 1973 case of Roe v. Wade. Hard to predict but the possibility raises both sides of the abortion issue to near fever pitch. Over the last 48 years I’ve wondered if both sides are happy that the issue continues to bubble and boil without finality because it generates intense fundraising support.

In my mind, prior to Roe, I connected abortion with teen pregnancy. Not an unnatural link because there was no reliable birth control during my teen years. (BTW: See book “What Made Me?” Solid info from a birth control/sexuality pioneer.) In the 1950’s/60’s I had a considerable aversion to becoming a teen daddy when mastering shaving and driving a car were my two best recent landmarks of life. Plus, in my town, a murder was committed by a teen to avoid the fear/shame of an unwanted pregnancy. Movies at the time such as Peyton Place and Love With Proper Stranger dealt with the subject of abortion. Sex and its potential consequences sold theater tickets and were on the minds of teens. I was still in a hand holding pattern when I took a date to the movie Summer Place. I hoped the show did not offend her but mostly the teen protagonists demonstrated how slow I was developing. As it turned out going slow is okay.

I remember reading the Roe decision when it came out. Unlike most issues of law, that decision did not seem solidly constructed on the usual legal building blocks. My older brother lawyer once told me to follow common sense when figuring out case law or statutes. (It’s all common sense he’d say; except for TAX LAW!) To me Roe read like a washing machine, all jumbled together. Then an abrupt declaratory statement of the law. A final and binding privacy right. Except, three distinct time periods were also addressed. So, the right that many legal scholars felt was created out of whole cloth wasn’t actually final. Needless to say the breakdown of the 39 weeks of a pregnancy is not medically the same today as in 1973. I believe I recently read in the news that a baby under one pound survived. Papa is no legal scholar but I’ve wondered where the issue of viability will lead.

So, abortion right up to the moment of birth vs none after conception are teed up as competing extremes. Many in 1973 felt it would have been best to resolve the issue politically at the state level rather than with a judicial decision. Roe did not seem to be a clear cut outcome to me. Not so easy to do with such knotty issues. It will be interesting to see how the Supreme Court handles this fiercely contested but evolving issue. I suspect the court will not go towards either extreme. A decision will probably come out next May/June near the end of this year’s term. That is often the case with major cases. Whatever the judgment, I predict that many on both sides will continue to be vocally unhappy with the decision. November 2021

THANKSGIVING

November 23, 2021 / PAPA

To me this traditional November holiday is embodied by family, turkey and football. In the 1950’s I remember my mother started roasting the bird early in the morning. I think in those days it was recommended to cook the daylights out of all meat. Food preparation began just after sunrise. By mid-morning our home had the delectable smell of turkey, giblets and pumpkin pies wafting in the air. I could barely stand the wait. Soon the start of the annual Packer/Lion football game grabbed my attention. It was on the radio and then on TV beginning around age 10 or 11. When listening on the radio I’d toss a football with my brothers. Or, we’d get a short pickup game going in the alley. (Telephone pole to telephone pole field.)

We’d have our grandfathers, two uncles/aunts and three cousins for a mid-afternoon dinner. (Both my grandmothers had died by the time I was two years old.) The food was bountiful and great tasting. Dry meat never bothered me; I preferred dark meat. Plus, there were boat loads of gravy to drench the dressing, mashed potatoes and turkey if needed. Later there was pumpkin pie. My memory is not all that great but I will hazard a guess that other food items made it to the table. Like salad, cranberry sauce, hot rolls, green beans, yams or glazed carrots. (For you of course the rule is to eat your vegetables and try everything!)

Later in life I did get around to sampling different food offerings. They are quite good in their own right but in the end nothing beats turkey, stuffing, potatoes and gravy. My worse Thanksgivings also happened later in life. Nothing to do with the food or football. (Pretty hard not to still suffer from indigestion from that dreaded 1962 game.) A bad Thanksgiving was always the absence of family. In my first year of law school. I did not know anyone well enough to snare an invite to dinner. I remember going out to eat a meal at a Formica table. In subsequent years I went to friends’ homes for Thanksgiving and in Vietnam there was dinner with pals. But, even with companionship I missed family. Thereafter, for years, I cooked the turkey, dressing, gravy and mashed potatoes and loved every minute of the anticipation of seeing family.

So, for those already on board as grandchildren, tomorrow will be a gathering of family with food and or favorite activities as surround sound. There is lots to be thankful for now and for each of you I wish a life long pursuit of happiness. Learn to cook a turkey dinner. Clean as you go. It’s more of a logistics operation than fine dining. A higher edge on a pan roasts the turkey faster. Take time with the gravy. Use an old fashioned hand masher. Nod approvingly at yams, salads and green beans if they make an appearance at your otherwise perfect Thanksgiving dinner.

END OF THE LINE

November 22, 2021 / PAPA

I once wrote: “Hospitals are where people go to die.” Not always true of course. Poignant? For sure for me. The thought arose for me when I was twelve years old. My beloved grandfather had stayed at our home for two or three months; dying of cancer. For the first eight years of my life, my family lived in an upstairs flat above “Pap”. He was my refuge at times. He was a widower. I’d sneak to his kitchen by the back stairs in search of stinky cheese. I always loved the smells of food from his flat. Yes, I’d revel in limburger cheese. Or, aged brick cheese. He also had sausages. He had the first TV we ever watched. Such viewings were accompanied by bowls of candy raisins.

At any rate my mother was taxed with caring for Grandpa. He spent the last weeks of his life in my brother’s upstairs bedroom. At the end he was taken to the hospital. It was hard to watch. I stayed in my room. When he and his attendants were outside I sneaked to a window overlooking our front walk. There he was; flat on his back wrapped in a white blanket. For an instant, just before he was placed in an ambulance, he looked up, saw me, smiled and gave a slight wave of his hand. I placed my hand on the window pane but I cannot tell you if he reacted; tears blocked my view. That was the last time I saw him. In those days children generally were not allowed as visitors at hospitals. But, that is where he went to die in my mind.

Another saying about death that stuck with me was “Everyone gets dead sometime” from a John Wayne movie. Reality! If you prefer another thought, I remember reading a quote from a philosopher type who basically said that although he knew full well that we all will die, in the far back of his mind he nursed the thought that he might be the first exception in history.

I never found death to be creepy as in a scary movie. My other grandfather owned a funeral home. I visited him there at times. He’d take us to church in his big Cadillac; gas pedal to the metal “to blow out the carbon”. I played up and down the stairs of the business and around the casket displays with my brothers and cousins. I remember being at wakes and funerals at an early age. I believe I was sixteen when I started working there. Carried caskets, cleaned, cut grass etc. I went on my first corpse pickup within a year. (I believe I washed my hands an extra time or two that night.)

All in all death is not scary movie fear. Yet, it is profoundly sad when it hits home. I found the devilish part to be that it is like a curtain being dropped. Never to be raised again. Ever. That loved person is gone. Forever. Sudden and jarring. There is no getting around that fact. No denying. You need to grieve. You will grieve. You should grieve. But, you will recover. You must recover. You will get to a point in which you are bathed in memories. Healthy, happy memories. Your life still needs to be lived. Towards your final curtain of sadness for a family who has come to love and cherish you. Decades from now. When you are a beloved grandmother or grandfather.

LAUNCH 22 NOVEMBER

November 22, 2021 / PAPA

If Papa can figure out how to operate the mechanics of this blog; today is the day. I’ve gathered old e-mails and posts but do not know if they are active or inactive at this point. Work in progress. I will really put my index finger to use today and repeatedly hit the launch button.

Today is a memorable day. It is the birthdate of Papa’s dad. Missed as always. A good day to start.

Today is also a sad day in my memory. I was in college when our US President, John F. Kennedy was murdered in Dallas Texas. (1963) I was a young fan to be sure. I remember the Wisconsin primary of 1960; the debate and the election. When that awful Friday arrived all humor died that day. Chums at school never ceased joking and kidding. We were seldom serious or so it seemed. When Mike came downstairs at our fraternity house and said the radio reported the President was shot the look on his face instantly stabbed at my heart.

I remember wandering towards Bascom Hill around 1 P/.M. and it was as if every building along the way opened its doors to allow grief stricken kids an escape. Tears flowed freely. There was no place to go. Classes were cancelled. Hours later I took a Badger Bus home. I believe the Badger/Minny game was not played the next day. The Packers however, did play. The 49ers were in town. First, we actually witnessed Lee Harvey Oswald shot. Live TV. A horrible week. I’ve often wondered whether the 60’s would have gone so far afield if JFK had lived.

So, finger willing I will use today to start my blog that I hope is positive.

GUNS

November 16, 2021 / PAPA

A recent event in the news reminds that you should always adhere to the following: 1. A gun is always considered loaded. 2. Never point a gun at anything or anyone unless you intend to shoot. 3. Keep your finger away from the trigger if you handle a gun. 4. If you ever haphazardly come upon a gun; leave it alone. Don’t touch it. If a friend or other person is present and that person starts to pick up the gun, get far away immediately while cautioning against handling the gun as you retreat. Report the location of the gun to a family member, police or responsible adult. The recent event involved a movie set and a tragic outcome when an actor handled a gun and, contrary to belief, it was loaded. A person was shot and killed.

I briefly had two guns when I was young. For hunting and target use. Hunting never took hold for me and within a few years I gave them to a brother who hunted. If you ever get the urge to hunt or shoot you need to get certified in gun safety by a reputable program. Any gun you acquire must be properly stored/secured. I have no desire to keep a gun at our home for safety reasons. I would not now consider doing so without extensive training.

One more caution: When I was in the army I was trained in the use of both rifles and pistols. On occasion I carried a weapon in Vietnam. Except for training I did not fire any weapon in the military. But, I did learn the valuable lesson of all guns are loaded. At the firing range groups would fire at targets from various positions. I assume hundreds of rounds were fired per session. My recollection is that I’d check to be sure the weapon was empty as did my shooting partner and then also by the drill instructor. I’m not positive but I believe there was possibly a count of ammo distributed and shell casings retrieved. At the end we’d all march to our next fun activity. One fine day we were double timing about a quarter mile down the road and a recruit’s rifle fired off a still chambered but overlooked round. (Thankfully into the air!) Believe me the army was very careful but that damn checked and rechecked empty gun was loaded.

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