A nice October Saturday in Greenville, SC…

October 15, 2012

Ellen/Reid: I was golfing yesterday with a friend who said this nice weather “is why we live down here,” and he was right.  It was just picture-perfect on Sunday, the golf notwithstanding.  When the skies are blue and the temperatures are mild, it really is a nice place to call home.

The weather was a little colder on Saturday morning when we set off on the Harley to ‘Fall for Greenville’, a street festival in Greenville, SC that the locals said would draw a few hundred thousand over three days.  I don’t care much for South Carolina’s politics, but Greenville and the terrain to get there sure is nice.

Felicia on the main drag in downtown Greenville, SC. during the ‘Fall for Greenville’ festival. South Carolina politics are a turn off for me, but Greenville is a good place to spend a nice Saturday in October. Great ride on S.C. Rte. 11 that skirts the mountains.

Our roundabout route on S.C. Rte. 11 was likely 150 miles to get there.  We rode through some cotton fields and peach orchards and got very close to the mountains, enough to see the leaves begin to turn.  It was chilly even in our leathers but when the sun broke through it was a joy to be on the bike.  The Heritage passed the 48,000 mile mark during the trip.  The festival itself is mostly a food-oriented event and we strolled up and down, mostly people watching, then hit a wine bar for a nice glass of cab and an appetizer.  Then it was on the road again for the 100 miles back to Charlotte.  We’ll return next year, if nothing more than to ride through the countryside.  Good thing we went when we did; the weather is rumbling and raining this morning.

Really starting to get jacked up about the trip to St. Paul for Thanksgiving, and for you, Reid, to get down here for what will be a long Christmas weekend.  I still haven’t planned out what and where we will go, but a good guess is we will probably head toward the ocean somewhere.  Oak Island is the likely landing spot.  There’s a seedy hotel right on the beach next to a fishing pier which will serve us just fine.  We ought to see what’s biting during that weekend, don’t you think?  I will make arrangements.  Who cares what we catch, as long as we catch something.  It would be great to bring home to CLT and Chicago a few filets of edible fish.

The cleaners are here this morning tending to the details I don’t tend to.  They do a nice job, a couple of Hispanic women who really work hard at it.  Betsy gave me their names.  Their monthly stop here is the best $100 I spend.  Not that I don’t keep up, but it’s nice to have their finishing touches, if you know what I mean.  Ellen, I still need to hear how the episode with your cleaners came out.  Bookkeeping is apparently not their thing.  Mine, either.

Watched the hairy video the guy free fall from 128,000 feet and break the sound barrier en route.  He must have noogies the size of basketballs.  That is one hell of a feat.  To get into a balloon let alone jump out of one at a height where you see the curvature of earth is absolutely amazing.  That wouldn’t be for me.

All the pork, sausage, steaks and other dietary stuff that should go off our diet was bagged up this past Sunday and toted over to Caldwell to go into the freezer for the Sunday breakfasts the church prepares for 50 or so homeless women who live in one of the church’s buildings.  It was a win-win for both sides.  It felt good to follow through on the threat to make a culinary change.

I find all the political news depressing.  Not much civility anymore in any of the races.  A woman at Caldwell, Jennifer Roberts, is running for Congress and I fear she’s going to get creamed.  She is a good person, honest and straightforward with the best interests of the people at heart.  The Observer endorsed her, but her opponent is kind of a Tea Party guy whose only mantra is business, anti-environment, etc.  I worry about guys like that who don’t care a hoot about the 47% or for the environment.  If we elect him, we will get what we deserve which won’t be much.

Power to the pen…

Loveable Henry shorn for the summer to beat the Minnesota heat. He is just one hell of a dog and a great addition to Ellen and Tim's household.

Well, now, I just hung up the phone from a brief but highly pleasant talk with my friends Jane and Dave.  That in our conversation Dave would reference items from letters posted here as well as the letters sent expressly to them is impressive (at least to me).  Maybe there is some power to the pen after all.

Alas, they can’t make it to Wyoming in a few weeks, but it’s still good to connect.  That seems to be happening with more frequency, and that’s good, too.

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June 1, 2011

Jane: Miss Manners and the other correctness mavens would be aghast that it has taken me this long to send you the proper ‘thank you’ after your swell party last month.  It was a really a great time with a great group of people.  It was wonderful to see everyone after all these years.  It makes me believe I am the only one who has aged, but unfortunately not in the same vein as fine wine.  And to think that I thought only women in the South went around barefoot and wearing aprons.  You’d fit right in down in these parts.  How the hell you managed to pull all that yummy food together and keep your wits about you is beyond me.  And that your kids were around to help you and Dave is doubly impressive.  They’re a good pair.

Really, the funniest part of the whole trip was you and your girlfriends passing notes up in the balcony at Plymouth.  That was just a riot.  Dave had mentioned that such a hyper-social atmosphere might occur, and he was spot on.  We’ll have to start post-sermon tests to see what learnings were actually absorbed by your upper floor crew.  It was interesting to re-visit Plymouth after attending my small mixed-race Presbyterian church here in Charlotte.  Saw lots of familiar faces in the pews on the first floor.

I’m appreciative that you would take the time to pull out all the stops to welcome me back to DSM.  I miss the old sod and the people.  Yeah, my stake is driven a little further into the ground the longer I’m down this way, but a big chunk of me remains in Iowa.  I’m sorry to be so far away from you guys and all the others.

Now, this is a bold-faced recruitment effort to entice you and Dave (and the kids, if they’ll go) to get up to the Bridger Wilderness with us on Sunday, July 24.  That’s the day we head into the back country for 3-4 nights (depending on what the group will bear).  We’ve got a good crew of six coming from Charlotte (including my minister, a great guy, and his family), and for most of them it will be their first trip to the real mountains and not those bumps in North Carolina they term to be ‘mountains.’  This will be the pleasure cruise of backpacking trips.  It will be far from a forced march although you’ll have to get used to dried pasta and the like, along with any fish that are unlucky enough to be snagged on our hooks.  You are more than welcome – very welcomed, indeed – to join this little Western safari.

You’ll have to keep me abreast of the guys weekend whenever it is this fall.  My calendar is typically wide open and at any rate will push aside whatever else would show up on the docket to make room for the boys.  But thanks again for your hospitality.  It makes me wonder just how often you can keep raising the bar.

Job one and job two…

United and U.S. Airways combined to do a nice job of scooting me back to Charlotte on time and intact Sunday night.  Job one of the long weekend was Steve’s joyous wedding, and job two was to sort through what remained of my parent’s household possessions and ship out plates and roasting pans and a menagerie of other items to points north and south; St. Paul and Charlotte.

It really was four days of mixed emotions.  It was great to see friends Jane and Dave, Pam and Greg, Sam and Bryce, Staci and Bruce, and all the others to say nothing of the wedding itself.  The dirty work was somewhat less so.  Deciding what to keep and what to donate was tedious and trying emotionally.  But UPS says the boxes will arrive at the destinations by Thursday.  Ellen will be happy when she unwraps her surprise package.  I’ll open mine, too, but we’ll see if any of the feelings I had in the garage in Clive made the trip along with whatever it was I wrapped in newspaper and bubble wrap.  Right now, I can’t remember what most of it was.

—————–

May 2, 2011

Ellen/Reid: I guess I’m looking forward to the trip to Des Moines later this week.  Steve says everything about the wedding is in place.  From the sound of things it appears to be relatively low key; they have instituted a ‘no gift’ policy that I plan on violating with a box of ProV1 golf balls for Steve.  The way he plays efficient golf, a dozen golf balls will last him a couple of years.

Job #1 in Iowa is to pack up items for shipment to Charlotte or to your locales.  Ellen, it sounds as if you have picked up just about everything you need.  Reid, the assumption is that you have neither room nor immediate desire for most of those things so I will preemptively have those items sent to North Carolina where they will remain until such time as you want them.  That’s fine.  You can look through things the next time you come down here.  And, might I ask, when will that be?  (That applies to you, too, EP.)

I get in about 3:30 on Thursday and will head straight to the hardware store for boxes and tape and get cracking on fillin’ the boxes.  That will consume all of Thursday night and into Friday morning.  Bob and I will have coffee at Grounds for Celebration then head to The Wave for a hearty Midwestern breakfast.  We have a lot of catching up to do.  He just had some surgery to overcome the effects of too much text messaging.  He just had one wrist worked on a few months ago, and now it’s the other.  And guess what I keep getting from him on my phone?  Steve has a pre-wedding golf outing set for Friday afternoon, and then I’ll head to Jane and Dave’s party on Friday night.  Rumor has it that there will be more golf Saturday morning, so at least we know where Steve’s second priority is.

I have mixed feelings going back to the house.  That’s where I’ll plan to stay to avoid hotels.  But it is a visit that needs to be made although I don’t know the full extent of what must be packed and UPS’d.  There was a lot of good that went on there for a lot of years.  It might be good to see some of the old neighbors although they might wonder what in the hell is going on.  Your mother has asked me to tend to some fresh sod that was just laid to lessen some of the standing water in the back yard.  I hope it’s in good shape.  As much as I might have groused about mowing and such, there are portions of yard work, especially the gardening aspect of it that I miss the most.  I liked digging in the dirt.

Quite the news this morning about bin Laden.  About time they got the bastard.  Of course, one of the news programs had some right winger on who said it “took a Muslim to catch a Muslim.”  He went on to say the Republicans set up the apparatus to catch him, so already the party that couldn’t catch him is laying claim to it.  What a bunch of crackpot idiots.  I don’t go along with those who say that terrorist bunch is DOA; rather, it’s like cutting the head off the hydra.  There will be someone else to come along and do the dirty work.  So this battle is far from over and done with.  But a big chunk of it is gone.

Watched four little chickadees spring from their nesting box this weekend.  One by one they popped their little heads out and flew to the nearest branch.  They were unsteady, but since then have found their wings and have frequented the bird feeder outside the kitchen window.  It’s good to know that there are now four little birds that might not have otherwise had a good home on the tree out in back.  I’ve really enjoyed the comings and goings in the nest.  I yanked the neatly made nest out in the hopes some other occupants might try the same thing.  At least the nesting box will be in clean and in place for the bluebirds next February.

Bridger update…

Things are moving ahead on the July trip to the Bridger Wilderness in Wyoming.  A group of eight of us from Charlotte are on board (there is room for plenty more hikers).  Most will fly into Jackson Hole, about 75 miles from our spot in the Wind River Range.  We assemble in Pinedale on Saturday, July 23 and after all the gear is straightened away and the food is packed into ‘bear barrels’ we head into the high country on Sunday the 24th for three to five nights.

The locals met for an update a couple of weeks ago and I’m relieved a die-hard and experienced hiker has decided to join our little band of outdoors people.  He knows his stuff.  I told the group this will be far from a forced march; rather, it will be the original pleasure cruise of backpacking.  Three or four miles by foot per day, frequent stops, lots of fishing. If this holds a smidgen of interest for you, climb aboard.  No experience necessary.

Alas, Ellen and Reid likely won’t make it.  Reid is talking about walking the Oregon coast with a buddy, and Ellen will likely opt to spend her time in northern Minnesota.

If there’s a high point for the trip, beyond the peaks themselves, it’s that my friend John’s two daughters, ages 11 and 14, both Carolinians to the core, will get their first taste of the truly wild-and-wooly outdoors.

A residential Stairmaster…

When I moved to Charlotte, the bank was nice enough to put me into corporate housing – a downtown apartment actually – for a determinate period.  If you like white walls, white trim, white carpet, white appliances, white upholstered furnishings and a white ceiling, it was nice enough.

Convenient as it was to the office, I couldn’t wait to leave, to own something on my own.  So, my trusty Realtor and I scoured the entirety of Charlotte.  Big homes, small homes, town homes, hi-rises, close in, far out.  I trod through them all.  Then we found a townhome on South Hill View Drive.  I bought the place almost on a whim.  Why someone didn’t slap me upside the head about a three level unit, I will never know.  It is like owning a residential Stairmaster, with the gym membership disguised as a mortgage.  Some day it may be Ellen and Reid’s, but I’m not sure they’ll be able to resell a home where the real estate agent’s promotional flyer says “perfect if you love physical exertion!”

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Not that a move is in the offing, but this older letter touches upon the tumultuous days of moving into my own space.

Oct. 23, 2006

Kidz: So much for Charlotte being in the hot zone.  Man, it’s freezing here – 41F this morning – and all the locals are whining about it.  I’d whine, too.  But it sure is a lot more comfortable compared to high 80s and ultra-humid.

Speak up now or forever hold your piece.  What do you want for Christmas?  Yeah, I know it’s early in the gift giving phase, but let me know.  EB, I have a good idea what to get you, but Reid, I am drawing a total, utter blank.  I mean, it is a blank slate.  As for me, don’t get me anything.  Honestly, don’t feel you have to get me anything other than a card.  I’d like to get you both down here at some point not long after the holidays.  Maybe a long weekend down at the timeshare in Hilton Head???  Sure, it’s fine if the Tim-ster comes along.

Took the Harley up through the Blue Ridge Parkway on Saturday.  About 400 miles of cold weather riding, but it was survivable.  Really pretty up there in a different way from the Colorado-Wyoming mountains.  The traffic was unbelievable, in fact it was so slow you got a really good look at each limb and leaf.  That’s when you realize when you live in the East, you’re close to the population centers.  It was good to put the bike through its paces and it ran like a champ.

There’s still fall out from Uncle Ralph‘s visit.  My new friends Betsy and Bob (Cakes, they want us to come over for dinner the Friday you’re here) can’t stop talking about Ralph and how much he talked.  It’s just a riot.  They took me to Gaffney, South Carolina yesterday to buy rugs for the kitchen and living room, and we really got some beauties.

Betsy is a shopper extraordinaire.  She knows what to do, especially with my money.  But the rugs are nice and very good quality.  The rugs are great and help muffle the sound on the hardwood floors.  The big 8×10 gem is all wool, hand sewn in India.

That’s good, because the furniture is supposed to be here by this time next week.  I cannot wait.  The new place doesn’t seem quite mine yet without furniture to make it seem like a home.  You know what I mean?

The cable guy put in cable.  So now the old TV that was in the basement is now working, although the volume doesn’t go very high.  Can’t figure that out.  Got HBO for the first time ever.  I started to watch TV last night for the first time as I curled up on the new rug with my new fleece throw from Bed, Bath & Beyond.  But I conked out almost immediately and woke up about 1:30 to Jerry Falwell preaching.  What a whacko.

Lets see, what else…I told you cousin Jeff emailed me, didn’t I???…I sent your mom an All-Clad Pancake griddle to replace the one I brought down here…Nebraska lost a tight one to Texas (uncle Ralph probably puked)…Pat Drickey is down here today to shoot a golf course and we’ll have dinner tonight…

Before mom…

Reid, Ellen and Tim in their post-feast, pre-nap positions at the table.

It was 6F in Minneapolis yesterday and I’ve been too afraid to check this morning’s low (it is 18F at 10:45 which is no doubt colder than a normal person should tolerate).

As it is I am in Ellen and Tim’s living room, Henry at my feet, to keep the string of posts alive.  He and I just finished a frigid walk where he performed all the normal functions a well-fed dog should perform.

Most Fridays a letter is composed to mom.  I will write this week’s letter on the fly for you to see before mom ever receives it.  It will be printed and mailed on Monday once I return to Charlotte (where the high today is forecast to be a balmy 65F).

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November 29, 2010

Mom: I’m writing this letter from Ellen and Tim’s living room in St. Paul.  They are cleaning the floors while their dog Henry and I are lounging on the couch.  It is really cold outside but what else would you expect in Minnesota in late November?  They seem to like it well enough and their little house is cute and snug as a bug.

Reid and I both flew in on Tuesday for the Thanksgiving week.  We’ve had a great time of things.  Not that we’ve done a lot except sit around and talk.  We did go to a very bad, very forgettable movie the other night over at the mall.  The mall, the biggest in the world, was almost empty the night before Thanksgiving, but the news reports said that the stores would open at 2:00 in the morning for the early shoppers.  How nuts is that to get up in the middle of the night to go to a mall to shop?

I did most of the cooking for Thanksgiving.  The kids bought a fresh turkey, about 14 lbs., and it took nearly five and one-half hours to cook at 325F, and even then it wasn’t quite done.  I’m not sure why it took so long but I think Ellen’s oven runs a little cool.  But the other items, the potatoes, the stuffing and, most importantly, the gravy, came out just great.  So the boys ate like boys and it was good to see everyone yak and feel filled.  I baked pumpkin and apple pies from scratch and they came out pretty good, too.  When people are hungry enough they’ll eat anything and tell you it was good.

I called over to your other son’s house last night but you’d already gone.  I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier in the day.  But he said you had a good time and you were glad to see your great-grandkids.  I’m still hopeful of getting out that way for Christmas.

Today we will go get their Christmas tree and put on all the ornaments.  They want to head out to a Christmas tree farm and cut one down.  That’s okay.  My little fake tree won’t go up until I get back sometime next week.  It’s only about four feet high and doesn’t take much to assemble and trim.

Well, mom, their dog is looking at me like it’s time for another walk, so out the door we’ll go so he can do his duty.  You be good, stay warm, and I’ll see you sooner than later.

A three part endeavor…

I know the paths very well on these mountains. It's the Bridger Wilderness in Wyoming: my favorite place in the whole world. I'm going back there in 2011 come hell or high water. These wonderful peaks are a big part of what you'll read about next Tuesday.

Writing is, I think, a three part endeavor.

A huge chunk is inspiration.  Researchers know that writers write best when they have an emotional connection to their subject.  Then there is affinity.  If you identify with the written word, you’re money ahead.  The final leg on the tripod is the diligence to refine your skills.  Like anything else, the more you work at it, the better you become.  Practice, practice, practice.

So it was that as I idled in the coffee shop at the Charlotte airport the other day, a young woman seated next to me was pecking away at her hand-held.  Her thumbs would punch a few keys.  Moments later an apparent response came in, and she’d then hit a few more keys.  The process repeated itself for a few minutes.  My eyesight is such that I couldn’t (and didn’t want to) make out her keystrokes.  What was she learning?  Certainly she wasn’t crafting full sentences or punctuation.  Even so, she forced herself to form ideas and thoughts, however cryptic.  I wondered, too, how or if she might make the transition to the sort of writing I prescribe because you can’t live by acronyms and partial sentences alone.

She got up and left soon enough, still pecking away as she walked.  Her approach was better than nothing, although her ingrained habit may not allow her to stretch her writing wings far enough to move beyond the small screen of her phone.

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Here is last week’s letter to Ellen and Reid.

September 13, 2010

Ellen/Reid: You cannot believe the itinerary Jane H____________ sent me for this week’s trip to Idaho.  It’s almost a work of art.  I forgot to bring it to the office but I will photocopy it so you can see the attention to detail.  Every bone in that woman’s body is creative.  I’ve had to force myself to not look forward to the trip but now am getting somewhat jizzed over it.  It will be good to see the guys.  I talked to Dave last week and he’s easing back into things.  My assumption – and wrong at that – was they pulled up roots and moved to Naples, FL.  But they are back in Des Moines.  I’ll call you two from the road this week.

Your uncle is dead-set that I will be in Nebraska the week of October 4.  Sounds like an Odyssey to me.  I’ll make a bee line straight to Grand Island to see your grandmother for a couple of days and then we’ll work around your grandparent’s home in Omaha.  Ellen, your idea to stash the fine china at Jane’s place is a good one.  Consider it done although I wouldn’t mind the further Odyssey to St. Paul to see you and Mr. T.  Reid, if I head up to MN then I would likely stop in Chicago to see you.  Most of the tools will be given away to Goodwill although I’ll keep some aside for you and will bring those to Charlotte.  I suspect my car will be filled to the gills once I get back home.

Nothing happening on the job front.  No interviews.  That’s mildly discouraging although from what can be gleaned from the business pages of the newspaper it’s not entirely uncommon.  I’m far from giving up, however.  Ellen, your comment about the ‘R’ word isn’t too far off.  It has some credence to it.  In some ways it might be okay to scale back the totality of the work effort, particularly if something hourly could be found.  So I may well go down that path although, Reid, I still want to build out the web site for a side – and perhaps full time – PR and media relations business.  I still have something to contribute in terms of skills and experience.  It’s just hard getting people to take notice.  If I did find something hourly, say, at Williams-Sonoma or some place like that, then I could write in the morning and work in the afternoon and early evening.  I would be down with that.

To compensate for things I’ve been taking more walks.  Therapeutic in every sense.  I can blow the steam off, think about things to come, blow off a little more steam and just get in a pretty good workout.  Usually its 45 minutes to an hour or a bit more (minimum 2.5 miles and usually 4.25) although last weekend I got carried away on a six miler on a hot day and was really dogging it the last half hour or thereabouts.  I’ve learned my lesson.

We have established that there is literally no traffic on South Carolina highway 341 out of Florence toward Charlotte.  It cuts straight through backwater portions of South Carolina and in all honesty, in 50+ miles of table-flat road there was only one or two cars seen in either direction the entire way.  It connects nothing to even more nothingness.  Backwater South Carolina is interesting for no other reason than the housing.  Much of it is manufactured.  The Harley is the best way to see the countryside especially at 50 miles per hour.  If I had hair, the wind would blow through it.  Lots of riders in those parts don’t wear helmets but I keep mine on.

Haven’t played golf with my singles group in going on two months now.  Every time someone asks me when I’ll come back my response is ‘when I get a job.’  No other way to approach it right now.  As much as I miss golf and the group it will just have to be this way for the foreseeable future.  My hopes are still high, so I don’t want you two fretting too much about your old man.  Things happen for a reason, and when the right thing does happen, you’ll hear me yelling from here.

A friend in the nick of time…

Ellen in particular sends lots of photos via her phone. Loveable Henry appears to have become a Minnesota Twins fan, as is Ellen's hubby Tim.

Ever have one of those times in life when you badly, sorely, really needed a friend?  I’ve had my share of welcome friends recently; Betsy, Ferg, Bob, Felicia, Ann, Linda, John, Pam, Pete.  You know the type; supportive, empathetic, helpful.

Then along comes Jane.  Jane lives in Des Moines and I referenced she and her husband Dave a couple of posts ago.  We go way back.  28 years will have to suffice for way back.  Without getting into excruciating detail, Jane was a friend in the nick of time.

In a few weeks, I will be afforded the opportunity to rekindle the relationship in person.  It’s been five long years since we’ve last seen each other, and it’s high time for a reunion.  I couldn’t let this entire situation pass without some sort of correspondence.  On top of that, they know Ellen and Reid very well;  a here’s-what-the-kids-are-doing-now update is way, way, way overdue.  It doesn’t take much to get my motor running when it comes to letters.  Just point me in the right direction and I’ll take things from there.

Here is that letter.

August 30, 2010

Jane/Dave: This has been one hell of a forgettable summer and I’ve looked for some ray of light.  You two are apparently it, and just in time.

I have been woefully out of contact with virtually everyone from Des Moines except for F_________ and a little bit with Greg K_______.  The guilty party pops up in my mirror every morning.  From the sound of things, things haven’t changed up there markedly.  For some reason I was under the assumption that you guys had jettisoned DSM entirely for sunny FLA-USA.  But the weather pages of the paper did not paint a pretty winter picture of Des Moines this past season so no one would have held it against you had you pulled up stakes entirely.

As for North Carolina, my stake seems to be a little further in the ground as time goes by.  It’s a nice enough place.  Charlotte is a good town and it was at its zenith when I moved down here in ’06.  Wine and decadence for everyone.  Those were pretty heady times for the ‘burg, and it’s been in something of a free-fall since then.  The actual timing of the free fall can be directly pegged to my purchase of a townhome at the very tippy-top of the market.  Someone has to buy at full price.  Things have fallen downhill like a rock since then.  If you looked at a map, which you have utterly no reason to do, I would be in what locals like to call ‘South Park’.  My commute to the downtown (which is called Uptown for some flimsy reason) is about 20 minutes.  Not bad by these standards.  I like it here and like where I live.

But here is the real news.  Ellen (now 27) is by all appearances very happily married up in St. Paul.  She just landed her first teaching gig (2^nd grade) after a long, long time searching and applying.  She just persevered.  She and her hubby, Tim (who works at _______) live in a little bungalow not far from the main East-West drag in St. Paul.  They love it although I persistently rub it in deeply in, say, in January, when it’s -31 there and 64F here.  I have to get in my digs sometime.  She was working at a property management firm which paid well but it wasn’t her dream.  Now she gets to live it.  _____________, St. Paul, MN  55105-2409.

On the other hand, Reid (25) is fully acclimated to Chicago where none of us see him leaving anytime soon.  He’s some sort of web/pixel/digital ad campaign geek at a big ad agency there.  I don’t fully understand what he does and he’s grown tired of telling me.  He’s dating a young woman from Des Moines, Jackie, and perhaps that hastened him moving just this week to a studio apartment.  He likes Chicago a lot although we have to wean him from being a Cubs fan.

Kathy has pretty much become a Californian with her new guy.  I plead ignorance on any of the details because I don’t butt in or ask, but from what I glean from the kids and others, it’s a good situation for her, too.  Her house in Clive will go on the market soon and should stand a fair chance of selling.

My father passed away at the end of June, and a few weeks later my job at the bank passed along, too.  This will be one summer that can’t move out of the way fast enough.  That’s why your pending trip is so exciting.  I may be bothered by dropping off people’s radar screens back there, but there’s nothing like rekindling old relationships, as long as we can keep the news out of the newspapers.  I owe you in more ways than one.  See you soon.

Ellen and Henry…

Henry, the omnipresent back seat driver (when he's not sticking most of his frame out the window).

Ellen called last night as she and her 70 lb. bundle of joy Henry were tooling toward the dog food store to get the beast some chow.  Henry is one of those dogs that when you see him, you think to yourself ‘I’m glad I don’t have to feed that guy’.  But he’s a cutie.  A brute, but a cutie.  Ellen sent a quick pic of the furry pile of contentment as they neared the pet food depot.

She’d already scanned this week’s letter so now we had something to talk about.  We went quickly through recent events, what her hubby Tim was up to (softball and beer with the guys), holiday plans (they may visit Charlotte for T-Day), and a few other odds and ends.  In 10 minutes it was over.  It was great to hear from her.

Not that we went through the letter paragraph by paragraph (you’ll see it Monday) but there’s just enough structure that it puts things in context that she might never pick up from our random calls.  That’s satisfying in the sense that this is a sidelight of what letters can do.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t say Reid tried to call last night, too.  But his attempt came at 10:27 p.m.  At risk of further embarrassing myself more than I already do on these pages, let’s leave it that he’s going to have to call a little earlier if he wants to talk to his old man.  A lot earlier.

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Today is moving day for mom from Omaha to her new digs in Grand Island.  There is no letter since I’ve yet to talk to the staff at her new home to let them know what’s about to land in their mailbox.  It’s with mixed emotions that I watch this upheaval unfold.  She should be better off in both the near term and the long run.

In lieu of the letter, my niece in Chicago, Kristin, sent me this email earlier this week.  It was so sweet.  It didn’t come on paper, but it had the same effect.

Hi Dave!

I know this note is long over-due, but I hope you’ll excuse its tardiness.  You have been in my thoughts a lot the past month and I’ve gotten updates from EB when we connect and catch up, which seems to be harder in the summer.

I was so sorry to hear about Ralph. At the same time it was settling to know he was finally at peace and everyone had been able to say their good-bye’s to him.  It brought back many memories of our childhood and spending holidays with your parents  I miss those days.  I hope your mom is settling in and you can make frequent visits to see her.

What a downer when the job loss was relayed to me shortly after and I have also been following your blog daily.  I do believe something bigger, better and more desirable will come along, but having been there it never helps to hear “everything happens for a reason” or “change can be good” or “you will find something better.”  But, with your talent (and hidden talents) I know you will be able to utilize it somewhere other than ______.  How much longer will you be there or are you already done?  Take some trips you want to take (Chicago)!

I hope my email finds you on a good day and I want to let you know how much I enjoy reading your blog.  It brings back so many memories and also gives me things to think about somedays.  So, please keep on posting when you can.

I’ve recently started a new gig at ______________ doing Investor Servicing for their _______________.  It’s been challenging and I’m not so sure this cut-throat corporate life is for me, but I need to give it a fair shot and move forward from there.  I had a month break in May between being let-go from my old position and being hired at ___________ and I can’t tell a lie, it was real nice  probably because it was nice weather and might be a different story if it was winter.  I haven’t seen Reid in a while, but I’ll get a few updates hear and there from Arik through ______!!  I am due for a trip to the Twin Cities.  I absolutely love getting there and especially to see EB and catch up.  She and Tim (and now Henry) are always refreshing.

Again, I’m so sorry for letting too much time pass before I reached out but please know I’ve been thinking about you.

Keep me posted on your contacts and thoughts for possible career opportunities.

Have a good week,

KC