Author: mikeljohnston1 (Page 28 of 267)
It’s always good to hear from a former co-worker, and Facebook has been a great way to preserve those friendships. I sent Tammy a birthday greeting, about the only way we stay in touch anymore. We weren’t close friends but I wrote many going away poems for the staff at the radio station in Portland where we both worked. She apparently never got a poem, and jokingly asked for one in her response to my “Happy and Healthy Birthday” message. I was both honored and surprised by her request, remembering my contributions to our friends, so I quickly complied:
Tammy
You stayed at Alpha,
Far too long.
Making the “Great Eight,”
Before moving along.
Ayn, Al, Cathy, Jaylene,
Jeana, Jim, Nicole & you.
Remained in the nest,
When I finally flew.
Then Al said goodbye,
A poem his request.
I wrote Twenty-two,
All in jest.
What’s one more,
As I look back.
It’s your birthday,
I’ll take another whack.
Three years now,
At Brown & Brown.
Unlike me,
You stayed in town.
As Facebook friends,
I see your smile.
But face-to-face,
It’s been awhile.
Maybe at an airport,
We’ll cross paths again?
And when in Florida,
Please stop in!
Your name comes up,
Every day without fail.
After all, we live on,
The Tamiami Trail.
Copyright 2023 johnstonwrites.com
Even in retirement, Friday always puts a little more zip in my step, but my energy levels are relative and too often hard to find. I’ll need to get off my butt tonight to enjoy “Date Night,” with a reservation at The Point in Osprey – also known as Evie’s. Apparently, I’ve been there with the Borrego Boyz but don’t remember. I looked it up in my diary, and sure enough, it was nearly two years ago. The entry reminded me that Curse of Oak Island, Season 11, will soon premiere, since it was also recorded on my daily log back then. Oh, the things I sometimes look forward to in life! I haven’t been watching much TV lately, although a set is always usually on somewhere in our house. My wife and I finally finished Designated Survivor last night and quickly moved on to Season 5 of Virgin River. I sit on the couch next to her as we both play video games or interact with friends on our phones. Neither of these shows has deserved our full attention. It’s just background noise.
Our typical nightly routine includes dinner, a golf cart ride to tend our garden, and couch potato time. She’s at her tap class right now, while I just dried off from a little pool activity, something that I haven’t done in some time. Lately, I’ve gone directly from my daily run to digging in our flower beds. I can’t remember the last time in life when I spent as much time working in the yard as of late. In the past, I’ve relied solely on the HOA and my wife to tend to any yard work. Is this clearly a sign of boredom?
I wish I could find something to be passionate about. My wife has her cooking, recipe collecting, book club, tap classes, water aerobics, bridge, and dog activities. She’s even thinking about some part-time substitute teaching. For me, baseball card collecting has become too expensive, as has TV streaming. Yard work is not the answer and travel will become less and less a factor in keeping me busy. Sports is still my main interest, but I’ve yet to find an affordable way to make it a productive aspect of my retirement life.
I don’t have much zip in my step anymore! I seem to lag behind everyone else when I’m running or walking. Afternoon naps have become more common, and a hermit-like lifestyle seems more and more comfortable every day. My wife’s numerologist and spiritual advisor claims that I’m 1/3 hermit, 1/3 royalty, and 1/3 businessman, but I need to make more out of the business side of me. Where’s the zip and what should I do? Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah!
I’ve really tapered off on my writing these past few weeks. I’ve also lost my appetite for TV shows, having wasted so much time streaming series after series. Now, I’m hooked on MonopolyGO, focused on getting to that next level. There must be a better use of my days than stupid video games. Admittedly, life has lost some of its luster with a pending prostrate procedure, heart catheterization appointment, and probable surgery. Any of these medical actions could jeopardize my Running Streak, that now stands at 5,372 days and counting. I thought I was a pretty healthy guy, but 72-years of wear and tear on my body is taking its toll.
On a positive note, if my running streak ends, I will likely move on to some other addictive activity. Without the worry of injury to end the running, I might take up Pickleball or get back into skiing. Obviously, Florida is not an ideal location for fun in the snow. I was reminded that we are headed to Oakland in December with just a three-hour drive to Tahoe, so I just might consider finally achieving that 70+ Ski Club commitment. There is life beyond running, or so I’m told!
Since I last reported, IU football won its first game, and my son’s fantasy team was victorious in the NFL openers. The Bears and the Colts were not so fortunate. The Cubs, who I admittedly gave up on to start the season, are in strong contention for a Wild Card spot even if they can’t catch the Brewers. The disappointing White Sox have already been eliminated from post season play.
Shohei Ohtani has not played in over a week, falling behind the Braves’ Greg Olsen in the Home Run Derby. I have built a collection of over 150 Topps Now cards honoring the Ohtani, Babe Ruth-like achievements in the first few years of his career. His pitching season is over with 10-victories, but his claim to AL MVP might be threatened if he misses more games. His career high in homers is 46 and stolen base best is 26, both set in 2021. The Angels franchise HR record is 47 by Troy Glaus. Ohtani was on track to top both of these marks before this recent injury – he’s day-to-day. I have taken the collection to Blue Breaks, the local sport card shop, to get an appraisal on what it might be worth, having invested about $1500 in the project and numerous hours in monitoring the Topps site for purchase opportunities. It’s just another addiction that I’m tiring from!
“Tiring in Retirement” or “REally TIREd MENTally” might be the best descriptions of my recent attitude. As a distraction, we set up another Marriott Vacation Club (or in this case Sheraton) mental-health getaway for the first weekend in January. A group of neighbors will share our 3-bedroom Orlando condo to do Universal Studios, the Kissimmee Mecum Auto Show, and celebrate the New Year, along with a birthday. It will fill that travel gap between Oakland (maybe Tahoe) and our Cross-Atlantic spring cruise, once my medical woes have hopefully been resolved.
Once a week I get an “idea” email from Storyworth, hoping to inspire another report on my past. These are the questions that have been posed this month, as I continue to add chapters to this book:
What places can you travel to over and over again? My favorite place on earth is still the Italian Mediterranean Coast. If there weren’t so many places yet to see and unlimited funds, I would be a regular visitor to Amalfi, Capri, and Salerno. Food, history, hospitality, and beauty make it special.
What were your favorite cartoons growing up? I was definitely part of the initial television generation (1946-1964), growing up with a diet of Captain Kangaroo, Romper Room, Disney’s Wonderful World of Color, and Bonanza. Cartoon characters like Mighty Mouse, Underdog, Roadrunner, Yogi Bear, Deputy Dawg, Fred Flintstone, Snagglepuss, Tom & Jerry, Huckleberry Hound, George Jetson, Mr. Magoo, and Bullwinkle were some of my regulars.
What were your friends like in high school? I have always made friends easily. My closest is probably still Tim Steffen, a relationship dating back to grade school. He inspired me to run and get involved in wrestling. When I first met him, my parents were concerned about how frail he seemed – how wrong they were! Grant Balkema and I were chemistry partners. He was a true genius and the Best Man at my wedding, who set me up with my first girlfriend, Debbie Osborne. Our makeshift experiments taught me about electronics, pyrotechnics, wine making, explosives, mechanics, and science. He went on to get his Doctorate and became a college professor but died at an early age. Dennis Pippinger, Bob Grove, Dave Geiger, Frank Weiss and I were like the “Rat Pack,” often together as a group for overnight Risk game sessions, slumber parties, innertube races, and bicycle adventures. Alan Harper was a fellow choir member who showed me through example how to gain self-confidence. He was part of my earliest travel adventure to California, inspiring my dad’s famous quote, “Thank God There’s an Ocean.” I also had neighbor friends, classroom buddies, fellow competitors, and club acquaintances that extended my range of companionship – but few girls.
What are some good and bad choices you’ve made with respect to your health?
I’m struggling with several health issues of late after decades of problem-free living. As I write this, my hands shake from what they call an essential tremor – although I’m still trying to figure out what could possibly be “essential” about being unsteady. It’s hard some days to hit the right keys on my computer and find myself constantly correcting my work. It takes away the fun of writing. I tried to hang some decorative fixtures yesterday and it was difficult to use a level or even a screwdriver. It now takes me twice as long to do simple tasks involving my hands, but I know that I need to keep moving or it will probably get worse. This is my justification for running every day despite balance concerns, simply to keep moving forward rather than succumb to these challenges.
My daily running streak, that hopefully will reach fifteen full years at the end of December (2023), is in jeopardy. My feet are relatively numb due to peripheral neuropathy but there is no pain involved, unless you consider how slow my pace has become. On a more serious note, doctors are now talking about operating on an aortic aneurism that was discovered in January of 2019, after abruptly halting my run as my head began spinning and I was forced to sit down in fear of passing out. In retrospect, it was probably related to dehydration, but it was a rare trip to the Emergency Room, surrounded by a cardiac team. Tests proved that my heart was fine, but finding this bulge in my aorta has turned out to be a family medical concern over the past four years.
In our family, there is both a retired cardiothoracic surgeon and a PA that have raised alarms regarding my health. Obviously, if it bursts, it could spell the end of me. However, my doctors have found little change in its size and have established a 5.5 cm threshold. It has been relatively stable at 5.3 cm, but they have decided to run a few more tests. If they decide to operate, I might have to start a new running streak, if I have the motivation. The nurse asked if I had ever had surgery and my answer was an out-patient eyelid procedure. She smiled and said, “well, then you’ll be going right to the top!” I’ve been in the hospital for both rabies shots and bronchitis as a young child but have since spent only a single night for a kidney stone as an adult.
The other health issue that I’m dealing with is an enlarged prostrate that causes frequent urination and other embarrassing malfunctions. Let’s just say that I’m considering an experimental butterfly procedure to relieve the pressure on my bladder. Unfortunately, too many old-timer discussions end up in toilet humor related to this common problem. Alcohol and caffeine seem to make things worse. There were times in life that I abused these things, along with drugs, but the best health decision I ever made was not to smoke. As a result, most of my medical conditions are probably inherited and therefore unavoidable due any lack of care or nutrition.
I rarely missed a day of school or work due to sickness, but I have experienced some mild symptoms after two positive Covid tests in the last few years. Daily exercise has been the other great decision I made in life. Push-ups, sit-ups, stretching and running are the daily routine, but it still doesn’t keep me from taking eight pills a day for hypertension, cholesterol, and prostate relief. My diet could have certainly been better with a preference for sweetness, red meat, and starch. I’m definitely a steak and potatoes kind of guy, with Diet Coke and cookies my greatest nemesis – they call me The Cookie Monster – take that Mighty Mouse!
Any remaining mysteries in my life have now gone to the grave. Sadly, I never got to meet either of my bio-parents, whose brief interactions brought me into the world 72 years ago (1951). I do feel a sense of loss, but it’s not like I have any memories. Cecil Banister was the father and I’ve been in the creek-side, log cabin home that he built in Scipio, Indiana. I’ve met his wife, daughters, and two grandchildren. They were responsive to my DNA results and have become part of my family. However, on Edna’s side my letters and texts have gone unacknowledged. I could probably go to the funeral and meet them all, but it was apparently not what she wanted. She was entitled to her privacy, obviously embarrassed with my role in her life. I was clearly a teenage mistake, but grateful for the life she gave me.
I never really felt like she owed me anything. She made many sacrifices for my existence. First of all, she gave up attending high school and never graduated. She may have experienced some heartbreak from her relationship with Cecil when he went off to the Marines and soon married one of her classmates. She undoubtedly felt the wrath of her parents, fellow students, friends, church members and relatives regarding their disappointment with her promiscuity. We also don’t know how secretive this all was kept, as many young women in her position were shamefully hidden from those around them.
Maybe her parents never forgave her? Fortunately, for me, abortion was not a legal option, so the Suemma Coleman home put me on the right adoption path and quickly connected me with my loving Johnston parents. Perhaps the pregnancy ordeal caused a rift in the Banister family since the couple were distant cousins from the same small town. Her side could have been pushing for marriage, while he might have never admitted to their affair. She was certainly not secretive as to his identity in the adoption paperwork that I have. He was apparently nowhere near the area when I was born, likely in San Diego, so there is also the possibility that he never knew I existed. I’ll never know if she had any regrets in giving me up after birth or ever thought of me on my birthday. These are a few of the many mysteries that died with her.
The following obituary gives a few more details about her life. Neither of her two husbands are mentioned – Poole or Davidson. I have no plans to attend the funeral but will be there in spirit, as I have been her entire lifetime. After reading this, I will also never see another carnation without thinking of her. Rest in Peace!
Edna Faye Davidson April 9, 1933 – September 4, 2023:
Edna Faye Davidson, 90, of Seymour passed away on Monday evening, September 4, 2023, at Covered Bridge Health Campus in Seymour surrounded by her loved ones. She was born on April 9, 1933, in Shelbyville, IN the daughter of Ivan “Pete” Ruby (Taylor) Banister.
Edna is survived by two children, Janet Davidson of Indianapolis, IN and Jerry (Patti) Poole of Seymour; eight grandchildren, Michael A. Davidson, Rachel Cravens, Justin L. Davidson, Jason Poole, Scott Poole, Tammy Poole and Ronnie and Rebecca Schroder; sixteen great grandchildren and two great-great grandchildren. She is also survived by numerous nieces, nephews, and cousins.
Edna was preceded in death by her parents; two sons, Gary Lynn, and Larry Joe Davidson; three brothers, Charles Ray Banister, and Rex Banister, and Elmer Banister; and four sisters, Helen Barker, Evelyn Simpson, Eva Ferguson, and Wilma McDaniel.
Edna worked for Jay C Plus Grocery Stores in Seymour for over forty years in the bakery department, retiring in the early 2000’s. After retirement she enjoyed reading, tending to her flowers, especially her carnations and spending time outside watching the hummingbirds and squirrels. Her greatest joy though was being able to spend time with her family especially her grandkids, great grandkids, and great-great grandkids. She was a member of Calvary Baptist Church in Seymour.
A celebration of life for Edna will be held on Monday, September 11, 2023, at 1 p.m. at the Voss and Sons Funeral Home. Inurnment will take place at Riverview Cemetery in Seymour. The family will greet friends from 11 a.m. until the time of services at 1 p.m. on Monday September 11, 2023, at Voss and Sons Funeral Home.
Memorial contributions may be made to the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation or to the National Scleroderma Foundation.
Funeral arrangements for Edna have been entrusted with the Voss & Sons Funeral and Cremation Services of Seymour.
To send flowers to the family or place a tree in memory of Edna Faye Davidson, please visit our Tribute Store.
Over the past few posts, I’ve recounted our long drive back to Indiana for a wedding and funeral. In the meantime, we missed Hurricane Idelia, evacuating well. Most of the references in this recap poem were alluded to in these reports but the names may or may not have been changed to protect the innocent.
Road Rations
Truist Park.
Hot-lanta Braves,
Amanda’s house,
Artwork raves.
Lodge cast iron,
Big Bad Breakfast.
River House dinner,
Recalling Egypt’s past.
The curb had no mercy,
Tire Pressure light a pain.
Rocky Raccoon sighting,
When will we hit rain?
Baseball, Bourbon, & Bats,
Wedding & Funeral await.
Louisville Slugger Factory,
And Evan Williams date.
Freddy’s for lunch,
Bio Mom nearby.
Joanie in Nashville,
Bloomington drive-by.
Pumpkin bars & caramels,
Flushed with Diet Coke.
BLTs and Burgers,
Weight loss plans a joke.
Hoosier Tenderloins,
Indy friends to meet.
We’d already had,
Too much to eat.
Brunch at Ruth’s Café,
For a Beatle’s song.
“All you need is Love,”
We all sang along.
Bottleworks vows,
Cookies not cake.
I’d already had,
A spin on the lake.
The lyric-off winner,
Denise proved wise.
A shot of tequila,
Bobby 2’s demise.
Bobby 1 calmed,
His angry son.
As Claire and Shawn,
Got ‘er Done!
Miranda was the DJ,
But the music was faint.
So no dancing Dan,
And the Outlaw no saint.
We had as much fun,
As old age would allow.
The “life of the party,”
Mitch met his vow.
West Fork Whiskey,
My Birthday pour.
Along with some Nike’s,
And fire pit s’mores.
Oliphant Hospitality,
Sahm’s and Capri.
Many old acquaintances,
At the viewing to see.
Onward to Huntsville,
Buc-ee’s for brisket.
Just after digesting,
A Cracker Barrel biscuit.
Banisters at Connor’s,
Then stayed an extra night.
As Hurricane Idalia,
Showed her might.
Cheesecake Factory salad,
Tasteless movie “Strays.”
P.F. Chang’s encore,
Little to do but graze.
Detour to Dothan,
And the giant peanut.
Pepto Bismol tablets,
For the rumble in my gut.
Texas Roadhouse ribs,
With hot buttered rolls.
McMuffins and Shakes,
Glad we’re home – I’m full!
Copyright 2023 johnstonwrites.com
We keep coming “Back Home Again,” for family events, particularly in Indianapolis. Our first stop in the state was lunch at the Seymour Freddy’s on the last leg of our drive into Carmel. It was the closest to my bio-mother I’ve been since birth, since she supposedly is in a retirement home there, and in near proximity to my step-brother, Jerry, who works next door at the Walmart Distribution Center. There has still been no direct contact with this side of the Banister family, but they’ve resided in this area for years.
After dropping my wife off in Brown County’s Nashville, I made a trip back in time to nearby Bloomington and the Indiana University campus. It was somewhat disturbing. My very first college apartment had been converted into an office with gated parking underneath and stairways/patios now enclosed. The Sigma Chi house on 10th Street was gone, undoubtedly moved to Fraternity Row. Even more surprisingly, my second apartment complex, Colonial Crest, had been completely demolished. Most signs of my existence as a young adult had been erased. Even once arriving in Indy, The Keystone Sports Review, where I planned to have lunch with friends, was in the process of relocating. The former building had been leveled. We ended up at the Friendly Tavern in Zionsville instead, close to where I once lived while working in Lafayette. One dining establishment I was glad to see still doing good business was The Capri, where we went to dinner one night. It was built in 1951, the year I was born, and one of the few landmarks from my past still standing.
We extended our stay in Indy for a quickly planned funeral, following the beautiful family wedding that generated some adult friction and kid drama. Although our friend’s unexpected death was obviously a sad affair, we caught up with some old acquaintances at the viewing, including a former boss that promised me some Cooperstown memorabilia signed by his son-in-law, recent inductee Scott Rolen.
Our five nights in Indy included more Bourbon tasting at West Fork Whiskey to celebrate my birthday, along with s’mores prepared while sitting around our friend’s backyard fire-pit. After imposing on them as house guests, it was well past time for the long drive home. One morning I took the road weary Lexus to Discount Tire to have the malfunctioning pressure gage checked out from roughly hitting a curb in Louisville.
The next evening we made our way to Huntsville, Alabama a day late for dinner with my Banister family at Connor’s Steakhouse. My bio sister, Julianna, drove over from Tuscaloosa and stayed with her son and his wife. I learned a few more things about Cecil Banister, my birth father. He loved shrimp but rarely paid for it, often serving on juries just to get fed this favorite. He loved chocolate and popcorn, always had a dark tan, and wore hearing aids. I can relate to most of these things, but obviously shrimp is not an inherited taste trait. His grandson, Gabriel, is a ND fan, while Julianne, his mother, supports her Crimson Tide employer. It was great to get together with them, even if it was only for a short time.
With Hurricane Idalia targeted to hit Tallahassee in the morning, I made some last-minute arrangements with my son back in Florida to prepare our home for the storm, that fortunately had very little impact on our neighborhood. Once again, we had evacuated well, as had been the case with Ian when we were in Alaska. We also cancelled our next Marriott reservation and continued to stay at the Huntsville Element, a surprisingly great Westin property owned by Marriott, of course! Lunch was at The Cheesecake Factory, followed by a matinee movie of “Strays,” and dinner at PF Chang’s. We spent the last night in Dothan at a Courtyard, under the shadow of the giant peanut. Texas Roadhouse and Freddy’s were our last two dining spots as we fought our way through heavy rains on the way home. Tally was also grateful to be back in her bed, while Road Trip 2023 is a wrap!
Stay tuned for a poetic recap!
It’s been a while since I’ve written about Sherm Lollar. Today, August 23, 2024, would have been his 99th birthday. Sadly, he died at the very young age of 53, 46-years ago. I’m at the Louisville Slugger Factory today diligently looking for any signs of his existence but couldn’t find a bat or plaque anywhere. I checked the vault and the wall of signatures but to no avail. I did get to swing an Eloy Jimenez bat, the only current White Sox player with a stock of lumber at the factory. I also tested the weight of bats used by former Cub players Kyle Schwarber and Kris Bryant, but the heaviest by far was the Babe Ruth model.
They gave us mini bats for taking the tour and we had a penny flattened with the Slugger logo. My wife bought a magnet and an “It’s All About The Wood” t-shirt as additional souvenirs. My good friend Peter Browning had me check out the first custom bat ever made there, with a “Pete” Browning signature from 1884. He was the original “Louisville Slugger” before the company trademarked the name in 1894 “to honor his patronage and capitalize on his fame.” He was also dubbed “The Gladiator” and played for the local semipro team, the Louisville Eclipse, but helped coin the “Pirates” nickname in Pittsburg due to an 1891 player strike when he and several other players were accused of piracy after signing contracts while theoretically under the control of other clubs. He is one of many famous players who should probably be in the Hall of Fame.
I do have a #11 Luis Aparicio Louisville Slugger in my collection and a #35 Frank Thomas manufactured bat from Hoosier, both players enshrined in Cooperstown. I’ve seen bats autographed by Sherm Lollar from Adirondack and H&R (Louisville Slugger parent company Hillerich & Bradsby) for sale on eBay. It’s one of the few items I don’t possess in my Lollar collection of cards, photos, articles, mitts, balls, caps, uniform, and trinkets. Few can probably rival my extensive inventory of memories from his illustrious two-decade plus catching and coaching career with the Indians, Yankees, Browns, White Sox, Orioles, A’s, Iowa Oaks, and Tucson Toros. He’s surely crouched behind Heaven’s Home Plate – Happy Birthday, Sherm!
After 2 full days of driving, we’ve settled into the downtown Louisville Towne Suites, once again under the care of Mother Marriott. We’re apparently in a “bad” part of town but near the Louisville Slugger Museum, the ultimate goal of our stay here. Last night, we were initially supposed to have a River House dinner with 6 of our fellow Nile River Cruise passengers. However, two tested positive for Covid and two others weren’t feeling well, so it ended up with just four of us plus a raccoon on the banks of the Ohio River.
We had driven in from Atlanta where we watched the Mets beat the Braves in Truist Park, a first for me on my list of ballparks. One of the highlights of Day 1 was a stop at Buc-ee’s for fudge and a brisket sandwich, even after a Cracker Barrel Old Timer’s. A 2-mile run through our niece’s eclectic neighborhood, where we spent the night, started Day 2. By lunchtime, we had been in the car for over two hours when we began our search for another Cracker Barrel. Instead, we spotted a billboard for the Big Bad Breakfast at the Lodge Cast Iron Skillet Factory in South Pittsburg, Tennessee.
This afternoon, Day 3, we have appointments for a tasting at Evan Williams and then the Slugger Museum. This evening we’ll probably go to Senior Night (wine tasting) at Slugger Stadium. The AAA Louisville Bats (Reds) play the Toledo Mud Hens (Tigers). There is also an Angels Envy distillery near the ballpark that sparked my interest. The next morning (Day 4) we drive to Indy with a short consultation stop near Brown County with my wife’s spiritual advisor. Right now, as we relax in the hotel room, I’m taking the time to recap the trip, so far, before we head to lunch at Jimmy John’s, just a short walk down the street – another traditional road trip favorite like Cracker Barrel, McDonald’s breakfast, Freddy’s, Texas Roadhouse, PF Chang’s, and Arby’s (not so much now that they’ve discontinued their potato cakes). Eventually, we’ll get to all of these on this drive.