Wednesday, December 7, 2016

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It was a crazy Christmas at our house! Everybody in our family, three generations really excited about giving gifts to the others and getting them. Well, sometimes our festivities aren't quite like "peace on earth." Such was this particular Christmas. The chatter was loud, the laughter was hearty, and the buzz was intense. Or, in the case of a two-year old grandchild, it was just confusing. My wife, who you know, finely-tuned grandma's radar, noticed that our little grandson seemed a little dazed by all this happy Christmas crossfire. So she just quietly slipped to the floor. (We didn't even notice.) She got down where he was and began working patiently with him on assembling a toy he had just opened. That precious scene had been going on for a few minutes I think before any of us even noticed in the chaos. But there was Grandma, quietly creating this island of sanity in a sea of craziness.

Thursday, December 1, 2016

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There's this poignant scene from the epic novel and movie, "Grapes of Wrath". You might remember that's John Steinbeck's story about families that were living in the Depression-era in the Dust Bowl of mid-America, and that's a time when lives and families were changed forever. Huge dust storms were wiping out the life's work of a lot of farmers. In this one scene, an Oklahoma farm family has gathered in front of their house to watch the approach of this massive, foreboding dust storm. The working men in the family are looking toward the horizon, no doubt wondering what this storm is going to do to their world. The children are hanging onto their parents' knees, and their eyes are on the horizon, too. But not the women. No, the women are watching only their men's faces. What they need to know is there.

Friday, November 25, 2016

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Our grandson was just about six months old, but it was obvious even then that he and his Mother had a very close relationship. In fact, I noticed back then an interesting dimension of their connectedness. There will be a sudden loud noise or a rowdy outburst by someone-like me for example-and you could tell that my grandson didn't know how he should respond. So instinctively he looked at his mother. His mother knew that, and she had learned how important it was for her to look calm and unfazed, no matter what was coming down. See, he studied her reaction for a moment and then he just obviously decided to do what she did, respond the same way; no tears, no fear. "Hey, Mom's OK. I'm OK."

Friday, November 4, 2016

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Some years ago there was a, well, then a new TV show, and I was surprised that it caught on. The title was Desperate Housewives, and it actually sky-rocketed into being a hit its very first season. I thought, "How come a show named Desperate Housewives would be so popular?" You wonder if there are a lot of women that could relate to that title. Maybe in reality there are more than a few of those desperate housewives.

Friday, October 21, 2016

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Okay, I don't mind winter. It's a good thing since God seems to have assigned me to the North most of my life. Also, I don't mind snow. It's beautiful! It's even driveable if you know how to handle it. But ice-I can't think of anything nice to say about ice. Looking back on the winter of '98, neither could the folks in New England and Canada. They got walloped with a mega ice-storm that left two inches of ice on everything. In Montreal, for example, power lines and poles and trees just collapsed under the weight of the ice, and thousands of people were without power for days; which means many were without heat in the middle of a Montreal winter. In one neighborhood, one man got pretty resourceful after shivering for five days. He marched across the street with a lot of orange extension cord and asked his neighbor if he could plug into their outdoor outlet. The people on one side curiously were without power and very cold. The people on the other side of the street had power and were very cozy.

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

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What do you call it when your dog has eight puppies? Octuplets? Ocpuplets? I don't know. Years ago, our Radio Production Manager, well, he probably would have just said you call it a handful. His dog was Sister. No, not a relative; that was her name-had eight puppies. He got to look after them until he could find homes for them. Apparently eight can be a challenge. He told me about one day when he was just trying to get them back into their pen. He said, "I was doing all I could to push those puppies back in. I'd get two or three in. Then while I was reaching for another one, one or two would kind of wiggle back out." (You can probably almost picture this can't you?) After a lot of pushing and shoving, he finally gave up for a while. He said, "You know, here's the funny part"-actually, I thought the picture of him losing to those puppies was the funny part-but he said, "within 10 minutes, guess where those rambunctious puppies were?" All of them were inside by the pen, without any pushing from him! They chose to do what he couldn't force them to do!

Monday, October 10, 2016

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Moving day! Good news, bad news. The process of moving is horrible. The result, once you find everything you packed, is wonderful. Years ago, my Administrative Assistant got to experience all that good news and bad news. Actually, the bad news turned out to be not so bad. It could have been bad. She was just one woman with some heavy stuff to move; refrigerator, stove, piano, plus lots of smaller things. Now, I was out of town when she moved, which was good planning. But I talked to her a few days after the big migration. And all she could talk about was the difference her friends had made. The guys pitched in on the especially exciting things like the piano. The women carried some of the other items. And even her little nephews joined the team. They carried the little nephew sized stuff. Each person carried what he or she could. Gayle said, "You know, when I look at each piece of furniture in my apartment, I think of a person; the one who helped carry that particular burden." The burdens turned out to have a lot of blessing in them because of friends who helped her carry what she could never carry alone.

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

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When you eat in a hurry you sometimes leave some traces of the meal on your face, and you sort of wear your food. There are some crumbs maybe, or some tomato sauce, or this little spot of chocolate. Of course, you don't know it.

Now I have to eat on the run a lot of times, and that means sometimes you might be able to tell. Of course, I don't mean to carry it around with me. I mean, you know, my wife or my son in the past have told me that, "You know, you've got food on your face!" Well, I want to tell you it's embarrassing to hear, but I need to hear it. Of course I don't always say "thank you" to them. Sometimes I'll just say, "Oh, yeah, you know, I'm saving it for later." Yeah, right! Which doesn't seem to please them, but I have to say that I do clean it up after someone points it out to me. Of course, if I'm not looking my best, I'd rather hear it from someone who cares about me, right?

Thursday, September 15, 2016

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I'm a tornado and hurricane kind of guy. I mean I don't like them but, I've lived where you learn about those things. I'm not an earthquake kind of guy. I've never lived where those mattered much. But when I was in San Francisco, I was where earthquakes are a big deal! Most people there still have dramatic stories to tell about what happened during that big quake in 1989, the one that interrupted the 3rd game of the World Series. Some of the heaviest damage and injury was in the Marina District of San Francisco.

Monday, September 5, 2016

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Years ago, when my son-in-law lived in the Chicago area, he was in his "heyday" because it was the "heyday" of the Chicago Bulls. That was hard for me, being in the New York area as a New York Knicks fan. But, listen! Back then the Bulls had one of the most amazing teams in basketball history. Actually, I think my son-in-law had to go into a recovery program for Bulls addicts back then. But he reminds me of the Bulls' greatness regularly. In the days when they were building their basketball juggernaut, I was told the players would get in a circle and one of them would ask, "What time is it?" And they'd answer louder every time they asked the question, "It's game time!" They seemed to know what time it was almost every time they got on the court. In fact, Bulls fans told me back then that the players weren't really that close off the court. Reportedly, it was pretty quiet when they were traveling, didn't even talk to each other much. When it's wasn't game time they didn't get together off the court. But, when it was game time, the differences didn't matter, they had a job to do. They were a team!