Author: mikeljohnston1 (Page 32 of 267)
I’m slowing down on my original retirement commitment of a post a day. It’s taken me 68 days to complete the last 50 articles with hectic travel schedules and little of importance to mention. I’ve been on my own the last five days, about to pick up my wife from the Punta Gorda airport. I have managed to get my daily 5k done despite the hot weather and lack of motivation. Tally has gone to the dog park two mornings, had three golf cart rides, and gets to be my co-pilot on the drive to the airport, so she should be content with my care. I also brought her some chicken from my Libee’s Sports Bar pot pie dinner last night with neighborhood friends.
My wife should have lots to report on from her trip to Indianapolis. She met with her sister, college friends, media acquaintances, a recent widow, and went to her niece’s bridal shower. The wedding is in two months. She’s had lots of stimulating conversation while I’ve been a reclusive couch potato, surviving on leftovers, PB&J, and alcohol until last night’s dinner out. I did watch a lot of disappointing baseball.
I can’t even say that I have a busy week ahead with a chair yoga class, dinner with the guys (while our wives have Book Club), two doctor appointments, a trip to Costco, and date night. Father’s Day and my wife’s birthday are a week away but final plans have yet to be made. We’ll probably also try to work in a movie and start a new TV series. There will not be much to write home about, so prepare for more humdrum.
On our recent visit to the Tower of London, I was intrigued to discover that arguably my most famous DNA relative, William Penn, was imprisoned there. The Beefeater that conducted the tour inspired some further research on the Penn family connections to the Bannisters and Foists when he mentioned the familiar name as part of the historical presentation. I spent some time on the Ancestry Jerry Ban(n)ister Family Tree today reviewing this lineage.
In 1868 William II wrote a tract (The Sandy Foundation Shaken) which attacked the doctrine of the trinity. He was a frequent companion of George Fox, the founder of the Quakers. “Like most Quakers he suffered persecution for his beliefs and was imprisoned several times throughout his life, serving out sentences at Newgate Prison, and the Tower of London, among other locations. So much for freedom of speech or press! It was for the protection of the Quakers that Penn initially sought land in the British Colonies of America.”
King Charles II granted William, Jr. this request in 1681 to repay a debt owed to his father, Sir William Penn (1621-1670). The tract included the present-day states of Pennsylvania and Delaware. It was the result of the senior’s royal relationship with James, Duke of York, younger brother and eventual successor of Charles, who was soon appointed Lord High Admiral, on the Earl of Sandwich’s ship (later renamed the Royal Charles) which was sent to bring the king home to England following exile at Amsterdam in the Dutch Republic.
Sir William was also an English Admiral and Politician who sat in the House of Commons from 1660-1670. He married Margaret Jasper, daughter of John Jasper, a wealthy Dutch merchant from Rotterdam, so he was quite influential. In 1653, as part of such connections, he helped to draw up the first code of tactics provided for the English Navy, 1664, Instructions by Sir W. Penn. This became the basis of the “Duke of York’s Sailing and Fighting Instructions.” In 1658, he was knighted by Henry Cromwell at Dublin Castle.
While imprisoned, William Jr. penned the book No Cross, No Crown published in 1669 and founded the city of Philadelphia in 1682. “As one of the earlier supporters of colonial unification, Penn wrote and urged for a union of all the English colonies in what, following the Revolutionary War, later became the United States.
I am the 13th generation of the Sir William Penn family. His grandson was John Penn (1680-1749), followed by Moses Penn (1712-1759), and the famous Declaration of Independence signer John Penn (1741-1788), a Virginia lawyer, elected in 1775 to the Continental Congress. His daughter, Lucy Penn Taylor (1766-1831) married Reverand John Taylor, and their son, Major Willis Taylor (1788-1863) espoused Nancy Morgan Taylor, as the family migrated from Virginia into Kentucky and eventually Indiana.
Their son, John W Taylor 1814-1883 joined Mary Jane Shoemaker and the result was a daughter, Martha Ann Taylor (1848-1914) along with six other girls and two boys. Martha then married Randolph Foist (1835-1891), whose son, John Foist (1868-1956) united with Minnie Banister and began my Hoosier heritage. Her father was David Banister (1833-1918) from Jennings County whose brother Henry Otis Banister and wife Elizabeth Jane Beatty Banister bore my grandfather, Ivan Otis Banister. Edna Faye, one of his daughters was my birth mother.
You now know the story of my famous Penn relatives. I’m glad my recent London visit spurred this investigation into my past. It’s also interesting to note that my Florida neighbor just five doors down is also linked to this story as a Foist or Foust relative. I discovered this by chance at a neighborhood get together after asking if he had Indiana Relatives. He happened to grow up in Jennings County. It’s indeed a small world, despite the long Penn to Banister journey to Seymour, Indiana from the jail cells of the Tower of London.
Well, I’m officially on my own for a few days with responsibilities including dog and plant care. I did manage to get up, dress, and run, just as always. It was very hot and steamy this morning with temperatures in the 80s. Summer is upon us here in Florida with threats of hurricanes, heavy afternoon rain showers, and high humidity. I’m a bit light-headed and maybe dehydrated after my 5k jaunt. I know that Tally was expecting to go to the dog park, but she had to settle for a visit from two of her schnauzer buddies that were out for a ride on their golf cart.
The Oklahoma women softballers claimed the national championship with their 53rd consecutive victory, and the White Sox won their fifth straight. The quest for the College World Series title continues this afternoon with my three favorites being Texas, Indiana State, and Oregon, three states where I’ve lived. I’ve yet to adopt Florida, also in the Sweet Sixteen. Wake Forest and LSU remain the top tourney seeds. This will be my weekend entertainment, while I wait for my wife to return from Indianapolis.
It’s time to book our March/April flights to South America, returning from Spain following the Viking Cruise. I like the comfort of Business Class but not the cost, so it may be time to make that sacrifice. I didn’t really sleep in the pod on our last flight so I’m not convinced that the extra money is really worth it. As usual, my wife will make the call. She thinks I’m cheap but on a retirement budget you can’t always get what you want.
I think back to the days when Friday meant lunch and cold beer at Buffalo Wild Wings. Not today! It’s laziness and leftovers. I may not even shave or shower after a quick dip in the pool. Tooth brushing is optional, especially after the gum surgery earlier this week. The dentist and chiropractor showed up for their appointments, but the urologist and cardiologist bailed on me. This only goes to prove that the older you get the more doctors you have and the more time you spend waiting for them. I showed up on time after going out of my way, but they both claimed to have rescheduled. One of those weeks of hurry up and wait.
ii
After nearly 25 years together, my wife and I rarely are apart for the night, let alone four nights. Even when she traveled for business, I would usually accompany here. However, in retirement, the costs of care for our schnauzer Tally, lodging, and airfare have resulted in a few separate trips, usually to visit family.
I just dropped her off at the Punta Gorda Airport for a 5-day visit to Indianapolis. She’ll stay with her sister, get together with old friends, and attend a bridal shower for her niece. I will take care of Tally at home and fend for myself, although she has pre-prepared meals that will require little but the microwave. I have baseball and softball to watch and will obviously continue my morning runs, but have little else planned.
With the early start this morning, I cut back on my mileage for the first time since our recent return from Egyptian travel. I was certainly not ready to get back on another plane, and won’t for another month when we travel to Portland. I’m already dreading an 8-hour layover in Denver and the 2a arrival. With time changes, partying, and strange beds, we’ll once again be exhausted. However, we are looking forward to the wedding, reconnecting with friends, seeing my stepdaughter’s new house, and the cooler Pacific temperatures.
After another wedding in Indiana this August, my wife may need to fly to Oakland for a holiday visit with her other daughter. I may elect to stay home with Tally, creating another separation for a few days. These old bones are losing interest in the rigors of travel and I’ll need to rest up for our spring cruise across the Atlantic, maybe the last straw in major adventures. We’ll welcome visitors at home, especially if it means no travel and no being apart.
I’m hoping to answer the many questions I’ve been asked recently by my family about heartbreak, personal influences, mid-life, regrets, and accomplishments. These plusses and negatives of life all need to be part of my Storyworth. I also gives me an opportunity to teach some tough lessons to the next Johnston generations. By the way, I purposely wrote this to be a long chapter, knowing that my grandkids will probably never read it all.
I want to blame the stringent, especially in the early 1950s, adoption process for not ever being close with my folks. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful that they wanted me to be part of their family and provided unlimited love and opportunities, but it was never a natural bond, much like an arranged marriage. I felt pressure to be perfect, as they tried to prove to adoption officials that they were worthy of my care, and I wish that I had been more honest with myself and them. I hid most of my failures and things that I feared they might disapprove of hearing, while more than anxious to share any success. They stood by me at all times, despite my learning the following lesson too late in life: Through good or bad times, parents are your biggest supporters.
I also blatantly wasted the money they provided for my education, getting by with little or no effort. I did not study, missed classes, and didn’t pay attention. I did get mostly Bs but could have done better, especially now understanding the great expense of a college education. All along, I never had to worry about money growing up, but really didn’t care about cars, clothes, fancy food, or booze. Going to concerts was my sole ambition and sadly drugs were my greatest vice.
Knowing what I know now, I would strongly discourage young people from using drugs, a total waste of money and brain power. Unfortunately, my generation was not made aware of these inherent dangers, or perhaps never paid attention, while exposure was rampant, especially on campus and in Viet Nam. Getting involved with drugs is the only regret of my life, and something I will not detail. It’s embarrassing to even mention, but an important part of the culture of the late 60s, influenced by the music and events of the times. As an immature, not yet twenty-one-year-old adult, I easily folded to peer pressure and paid the penalty.
The day-to-day examples of kindness, respect, inclusiveness, and hard work my parents and grandparents demonstrated were by far the biggest influencers on my young life. Two male neighbors, Jim Krider and Jack Lohman became older role models. Jim lost a leg in a motorcycle accident and showed positive resilience, while Jack got me involved in Little League baseball. I played sports like basketball, wrestled, and ran track in grade school, but one season of organized baseball led to softball and decades of media league enjoyment.
I also think of other kids that I tried to emulate in grade school like athletic Gary Elliott, popular Steve Swihart, or brainy Grant Balkema indirectly influenced my behavior, although none of them probably never knew. I also grew to despise Ned Markey who was one of many bullies that haunted my childhood playgrounds.
By the time I reached forty in 1991, I was prosperous, successful, and content. We bought an Indianapolis home in Castillia. Marcia and my careers were blossoming, and we were first experiencing life as dual earners and empty nesters. We enjoyed travel to Las Vegas, England, France, Hong Kong, Italy and Hawaii. I was also doing a lot of skiing and still in great shape, working out at the gym and running competitively. Both of my parents were doing well back then, at only a few years older than I am now.
It was frankly heartbreaking to see our marriage of twenty-seven years come to an abrupt end at the beginning of my 50s, but a second chance at life was about to begin. With the additional heartache of my parents’ passing, I’m proud to have built a family of now eleven, including my wife, two stepdaughters, their husbands, and three grandkids. I’m also pleased to see that my son and his wife, about to begin the final stage in becoming a doctor, renew their 10-year marriage vows. So concludes the toughest chapter, so far, of my life story I’ve been asked to write.
The year is going by quickly, as the trivia calendar rolls over to June. It starts with this Amazing Fact: In Japan, many splintered bats are turned into chopsticks. They are known as “kattobashi,” which translates to ‘get a big hit.’ It’s NCAA tourney month, with the Hoosiers, Beavs, and Ducks all getting first round wins. In women’s softball, the Sooners continue their amazing winning streak. Even the White Sox started June with a win, beating the Tigers 3-0. I can only hope this good fortune continues and that all my teams enjoy kattobashi.
We’re watching the final episodes of Ted Lasso, with familiar segments of our recent visit to London. It featured an outdoor pub scene with a musician singing “Hey Jude,” reminiscent of our walk across Abbey Road. The pub crowds were rowdy, extending into the streets and a focal point of British culture. Fish and Chips washed down with a warm beer. Soccer or “football” is the favored sport, although the Cubs and Cardinals play baseball at London Stadium later this month.
The fate of two recent IU basketball stars will be determined in the upcoming June NBA draft and the Nuggets play the Heat for the crown, as round ball attempts to get a foothold in this busy month of sports and don’t forget about the French Open that leads up to Wimbledon. Also, my wife’s birthday, her trip to Indy for my niece’s bachelorette party, Juneteenth, fathers’ day, Flag Day, and D-day are unforgettable June celebrations. “Remember to let her into your heart. Na na na nananana, hey June!”
As another day goes by with my running streak (#5,268), I continue to amaze myself, if not others. It’s been nearly 14 1/2 years without missing a single day. Yes, there are many other such streaks documented on the USSRA website, www.runeveryday.com, that far exceed mine, but this is solely my accomplishment in extreme discipline. I only wish that I would or could have applied it to other things in life – who knows what I could have achieved?
As it is, maybe I’ve extended my life or at least have kept myself in shape. I can eat pretty much what I want without gaining weight – and often find my sweet tooth to be a factor. As it currently stands since starting this adventure, I’ve run in 31 states and 16 countries. I will definitely add the state of Kentucky into my total when we spend the night there in August and tour the Louisville Slugger plant. Next spring, on our cross-Atlantic cruise, I will add at least 5 more countries and lay claim to six of the seven continents. I have little interest in Antarctica.
Despite the many years I’ve been running and the daily habit I’ve established, I still find every single day to be a challenge. I struggle with taking that first step, often stalling or trying to sleep a little longer. When I travel, I always keep my running shoes in reach just in case there’s a delay, lost luggage, or last-minute schedule change. The last thing I do every night before getting in bed is get my gear together for the next morning’s run. I try to be as prepared as possible, with a preplanned route or finding the whereabouts of a nearby gym. All in all, I try to eliminate any excuse not to run.
Sickness, stiff muscles, injuries, hangovers, foul weather, unfamiliar terrain, and darkness are daily challenges with keeping the streak alive. My mind tries to come up with an excuse not to do it nearly every morning. It’s rare when I actually look forward to the task. My bones and muscles creak and resist during those first few steps. The first mile is always the hardest and I always seem to look forward to the end. I try to take my thoughts off the monotony with music, rhyming words, counting things like steps, songs, driveways, cars, dogs, people, and/or trash cans, and playing silly mind games. There are many times when I think I can’t go on, but a second wind always seems to ease any discomfort. I do not run enough miles to get that euphoric feeling, except when I’m finally done for the day.
There is no finish line when you run every day, with nagging thoughts on how I’m going to possibly get up and do it again tomorrow. Yet, I’ve somehow done it 5,268 consecutive times. It’s by far my biggest challenge every day, especially in retirement. I’m thankful that my body has somehow endured and continues to allow me to perform. The time it takes to complete my 5k route is not a factor anymore, as I slog along. Tomorrow will be just another day of extreme discipline.
I’m slowly getting back into the swing of things with better luck sleeping, daily 5k runs, and writing. This morning I return to Chair Yoga after the travel hiatus. Tally sits in my comfy office chair, easing into her routine after a visit to the dog park. Once our company leaves tomorrow, all will be back to normal. We’ll then watch all the final episodes of Succession, Ted Lasso, and Maisel on TV, soon returning to the movie theater to see Guardians of the Galaxy 3.
Laundry has been my biggest project these past few days. The washer and dryer have been running constantly. Cloth napkins and placemats from the Indy 500 party and three weeks of dirty clothes that we unpacked. I’ll need to make arrangements for a haircut, blood donation, another Covid booster, and to pick up a propane tank. See how mundane life becomes when you’re not on the road!
My wife escaped jury duty today and is off to Indianapolis in a few weeks. I have no plans to do much of anything until July, so there obviously won’t be much to write about. I’ll try to add some swimming to my exercise routine as the weather heats up, but right now I still feel unmotivated, and jet lagged. To keep me entertained on a lazy afternoon, I rented the baseball movie, Bang the Drum Slowly, starring Robert De Niro, who was an unknown actor at the time. It was a bit of a disappointment, costing me $3.99.
We’ve traveled the world and seen lots of memorials – tombs, carvings, castles, churches, gravestones, obelisks, pyramids, statues, plaques, and historical markers. However, it’s good to be home for Memorial Day. A friend staying with us is celebrating a birthday today, and I will be delivering a present to my granddaughter who just turned 14. We’ve already enjoyed the annual fireworks and symphony performance, watched the Indy 500 with 31 of our neighbors, and I’ve gotten my running streak back to a 5k routine. Tally is back in her chair that is supposedly my chair, and I’ll be content to spend a quiet Monday, holiday simply relaxing. Of course, I’ll keep in mind those that sacrificed their lives for our overall benefit.
My Great Grandfathers, Grandfathers, father, fathers-in-law, birth father, and friends all served our country. Wives did their part in keeping the family together during this time of service. Thoughts of visiting Normandy in the course of our travels comes to mind, and the pride of being an American. I was fortunate to have avoided Viet Nam and still reluctant to travel there, with so many other places to visit.
From the Avenue of the Sphinxes and the King’s Highway to Abbey Road, we’ve returned safely to celebrate another Memorial Day from a great journey. We’re thankfully back to a country where the toilets flush properly and you’re not obligated to pay to pee. Sure, we have our share of issues, but it’s still the greatest land in the world. “Home Sweet Home” and “God Bless America.” There’s no need to carve stone for me, my life experiences have truly been a Memorable Memorial.