Truck, what truck?

52 is an odd year for an even number. I'm one year younger than my Brother when he died. It's tough to wrap my head around that, still, and all the other grief I've dealt with over the last year.

Did a lot of driving this weekend in the new car. It's been a comfort, a lot of fun to drive. Went to Yellow Springs for lunch, another match of International Mini Golf (the first draw!) and to Westerville for dinner. Took in a good sunset at Hoover Reservoir.



My Wife's been taking good care of me. This afternoon we went to the Ohio Theater and took in a matinee of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Clark Wilson did his thing on the Mighty Morton Organ.



So it's been a good birthday weekend. And I got a reminder from my son's mother about upping the size of diapers. He's eating well, if not sleeping right, but he is growing - he never came with a pause button.

Witnesses to notoriety?

Scanned a few more pictures tonight. There are so many and it's hard for me to figure out how to label them when there is no information on them.



That's my Grandfather, today is the 112th anniversary of his birth.

Got some genealogy updated. Have a couple of death certificates that I cannot connect to the rest of the family. One of them is of a girl who died at the age of five of marasmus. Click on the link if you dare, times was hard in 1888.

Also confirmed that some of my family lived around the corner from the Lizzie Borden home at the time of the murders. Small town that Fall River. Wonder if they were ever interviewed, or in the background the crowd photos of the trial, if there were any taken. Plenty of research in that case.

Parent of a teenager

My Son turns 13 today. So I hastily assembled a bunch of pictures and put them in a slideshow with Camera Obscura's "Teenager" as soundtrack. They favorited it on Twitter so it must be alright if it got band approval. Hope you enjoy it.

A good birthday walk

Been trying to avoid the news, but it's hard to not see the effects of the tragedy in Charleston. I live in a racist, violent country - ruled by guns. If rooms full of dead children and adults will not make us take a hard look at it, nothing will. The nation is not capable of real change, other than security theater.

So I unplugged yesterday while my wife and her sister went out to do sisterly things and wandered around Glasgow for the day. Took the train into an unknown part of town to me and visited the park where Third Lanark used to play.
An interesting, ghostly experience that was only missing morning mist on the pitch. Since I was there, I strolled past Hampden Park and had no idea it was in such a residential neighborhood, not unlike Wrigley Field.

Managed to get on the right trains at the right time and got back to Central Station intact. I keep getting turned around when in downtown Glasgow, my compass does not work, but once I find the Clyde River I can figure things out. Found an old chip/breakfast shop and smiled my way through a language barrier to get some food.

These people had some very, very thick Glaswegian accents but we were all nice to each other. They asked where I was from and so on. The chips were not good, the fish cooked ok, the tea was excellent as was the patter. Heard some outstanding cursing, great breakfast conversation to overhear.

Was lucky enough to remember to visit the Britannia Panoptican, one of the oldest Music Halls left in the world. It was a thrill to stand on the same stage where sixteen year old Stan Laurel made his theatrical debut, in 1906. The hall is being slowly restored and Judith Bowers is doing amazing work in stewarding the process, mostly on her own.

By then I was ready for a proper drink and headed to the Horseshoe since I missed it on my last visit.

After that it was time to once again hit the Pot Still. Fell in love with this place my last visit and that love only increased. Got into a fine conversation with a gentleman from Northern Ireland, had some good advice from Frank the proprietor and the whiskey was excellent. If there is a better selection of whiskey anywhere in the world, I'd like to see it. After a few my wife and sister showed up at the pre-determined time to get me out of there while I could still walk, but not before I had a Mortlach that was distilled in 1984.

Quieter day today. All continues to be well here.

A new day, a new demographic.

A couple of weeks ago I received an application to join the AARP. I threw the letter out.

Today I attended the retirement party for a colleague who was moving on after thirty years. On the elevator up we were asked by another retired colleague when we were retiring. My former supervisor and I both laughed nervously. Times have changed.

I've entered my fifth decade of life on this planet and am trying hard not to focus on the bad stuff that is happening to and around me. Would have liked my Mom to witness her youngest son his this number, but that's not to be.

I have no bucket list because, like relegation, which I understand all too well,  it would only lead to disappointment.

My colleague was honored with some very wonderful speeches. One of which moved me nearly to tears, to have a boss that would inspire such a meaningful speech! Another used pictures to hilarious and poignant effect.

I've only been in the system for fourteen years, I have a way to go before I sleep, if it even happens.

It was announced that Gerry Goffin, one of the finest lyricists ever, died today at the age of 75. Here's one of the great songs he wrote with Carole King. You can watch it HERE.

79 today

Happy Birthday!

Happy birthday

She shares a birthday with my Mother. Mom's not 80, but Petula Clark is.



Happy birthday to them both!

Holiday angst

Still unmotivated. Pointing the finger at no one but myself. It's humid out there, but that's only an excuse. Did a bit of Arts Fest administrative work. Some initial contact will be make in the next few weeks. The process has to get going, and soon.

My mother got my son a car track for his birthday. It's all good, eventually it became that way. Once I figured out how to snap the track together it was a struggle. Figuring out how to put the batteries in the cars was a pain in the ass that led to some behavior I was not proud of. The boy has been paying attention to it though, which is great.

Tomorrow he has an appointment with a new occupational therapist.

Given little thought to IWPS. Did book my room, will make plane reservations this weekend. Wondering how the heck I'm going to get from the airport, which it 40 miles out of town, into town. I hear scuttlebutt of shuttles. Hope the organizers have them in place.



Suppose I should get to work figuring out what I'm going to be reading. At least four poems, one to four minutes in length. Do I read one poem I did in 2009 in Berkeley? How deep are my pockets?

116 had he lived

Happy birthday Buster!

My favorite gag is at the 2:00 mark.

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