A woman passerby was mocking my running form this morning, making fun of my slow prance that’s barely faster than a walk. I must look somewhat ridiculous trying to maintain my balance with high steps and awkward arm movements. I’ve always been conscious of my form, especially when I was competitive. At this stage, it takes everything I have to keep moving forward – style be damned! I’m sure everyone thinks that I’m going to fall over like Laugh-In’s Artie Johnson on his trike, yet I somehow kept going on this day #4904. Five thousand consecutive days are within my sights, so sometime in September my streak will reach that milestone. Next week, I should move up another notch, #401, on the all time list of streak longevity.
Breakfast these days consists of Gatorade Zero and eighteen pills, including vitamins and supplements. I’m usually drained and soaked in sweat before I jump in the pool for a few laps after 3.1 miles in the heat. My chiropractor has prescribed pills to remove uric acid from my body and to stimulate my adrenal gland. These account for half of my daily medication. My doctor also has me on a combination of cholesterol and blood pressure regulators as part of my daily regimen. Advil and Tylenol help with the stiffness and soreness.
It takes a lot to keep this 70-year old antique together. However, I’m doing great compared to similar specimens. I see lots of canes, wheel chairs, walkers, and knee braces when I’m out and about in the morning. A little teasing about my awkward running form is a small price to pay. I was able to get in 95-plus miles this past month, despite the tendency for my GPS to unexpectedly shut down on occasion, shorting me a few miles. It happened again this morning, giving me credit for half the distance that I covered in my unorthodox prance.
We enjoyed a great Memorial Week with an overnight guest. It included two dinners out, Fireworks, a Race Party, a beach picnic, and Gourmet Hot Dogs. I had a conversation with a guy that attended the same Jefferson Airplane concert 52-years ago in East Lansing Michigan. Chicago Transit Authority, John Sebastian, and Rotary Connection with Minnie Riperton also played outdoors at Michigan State University’s College Field. Once again, I was grateful to have kept a concert log, enhancing my faint memories of this event while I attended nearby Albion College.
Memorial Weekends of my childhood were probably filled with family reunions and trips up to Corey Lake in Michigan, but my diaries do not go back that far. I can report that twenty-three years ago, just before my divorce was official, my soon to be (and current) second wife and I took our first trip together to New York City. We stood on top of the World Trade Center tower that would be destroyed by terrorists the following year. We also went to a Yankees game and several Broadway plays on this occasion.
Many of our following Memorial Weekends were spent with my wife’s mother back in Rochester, Indiana. or at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, or working in the yard. Fifteen years ago, we traveled to Florida and watched the race with my grandson. The next year we had moved to Austin, while soon after my first granddaughter was born. A year later we spent our Memorial Weekend at South Padre Island and the next two at Port Aransas, our favorite Texas beach areas. Nine years ago we were back home again in Indiana. However, in 2014, my wife’s niece got married at Hilton Head over Memorial Weekend, so the beach tradition continued but in North Carolina.
In 2015, we moved to Portland and spent our only Memorial Weekend apart. My wife went to Indy to be with her mother and I flew to Florida to be Disney Grandpa. Once we got settled in Portland, wine country or the Pacific Coast became the new Memorial Weekend traditions. In 2019, we ventured to Walla Walla for a different kind of wine tasting experience and despite Covid in 2020 joined friends in the Willamette Valley before we moved to Florida. These last two Florida Memorial Weekends have involved the nearby beaches. It’s been fun to look back over a lifetime of Memorial Memories.
What will life be like in the year 2045? I would be 93-years old and living on a very fixed income from Social Security and my pension. Savings would be long gone and my youngest grandchild 27. I might even have great grandchildren. Florida will probably still be my home even though it would most likely not be in this house. My wife would still be in her eighties and her girls in their sixties, starting to think about retirement. Neither of her kids will have children. My wife’s oldest daughter will still live in Portland, but her youngest will have moved several times. We’ll undoubtedly still have a dog, although Tally will have been long ago “replaced” with a schnauzer puppy that will have grown to be at least the same age that Tally is now. The chair that she sits in this morning will have worn out and been recycled.
I’d like to imagine that my running streak will be at 38-years and counting. What I can’t imagine is how slow my pace will be by then. By the time I get done running it will soon be the next day. By then, I should have added another 8400 posts to this blog, although I will have probably discontinued my payments to Go Daddy for publishing. What will I do in the next 23 years to make my life constructive? Will go back to work? Will I finally publish a book? What triumphs and tragedies will I have faced? Where all will I have traveled? Or, will I be dead and how will that happen?
The story of my life continues. It’s a Tuesday that feels like Monday or could be any day of the retirement week. For now, life remains nonconstructive with wasted hours watching series like Bosch Legacy, Outlander, Under the Banner of Heaven, and The Time Travelers Wife. The only reason I’m not in my chair right now is because Tally has claimed it for the day. Here’s to the Future!
I’ve been shirking my commitment to writing in retirement of late. I had promised myself to do at least one post a day and considering that I’ve now reached the 2,044 mark at five-and-a-half years of doing this blog, I’ve been more than true to myself. However, yesterday, I did not get time to do a daily post after my run and swim. We were having several people over to watch the Indy 500, our first real group party in this new Florida home. Over twenty people attended, including my son and grandkids who stopped by on the way to the water park. Many of the people in our neighborhood have left for their summer homes, earning them the distinction of being called “snowbirds.” Our original intent was to find other Hoosiers in our area to attend this brunch and sing “Back Home Again in Indiana” with us. Instead, we ended up with a hodgepodge of friends, most of which weren’t as interested in the race as I was. There were only five born and bred Hoosiers, counting my son.
I saw the Facebook posts of friends that were actually attending the race, but I was not necessarily envious. The days of getting up early and fighting the traffic and crowds are no longer appealing. I was glad to be home watching on TV from a thousand miles away. I saw all the festivities in air conditioned comfort, although the years of being in luxury suites with a parking and pit pass or being transported by helicopter were highlights of my racing experience. It was a great race, as I cheered on a friend’s son, Conor Daly, to an impressive sixth place finish.
For the first time in history, the red flag stopped the race with five laps to go after Jimmie Johnson’s crash. Race officials could have let the cars finish under yellow, but this is the ultimate let down for fans. They decided on a restart, allowing two laps to decide the race winner. “Fortunately for Marcus Ericsson, who was leading the race at the time of the red flag, he won the race anyway. It might have been a much different reaction had the red cost him an Indy 500 trophy.”
I liked the following driver quote in reaction to those who felt that the restart was not in the spirit of conservative speedway traditions: “Screw the purists, if that’s what they say,” said Santino Ferrucci, who finished 10th. “You don’t want to win this race under yellow. That’s a BS win, to me. I’m happy IndyCar did what they did. They made the right call.” It was an exciting Red Flag Finish!
I’m starting to get a little restless in retirement. At first, I liked the idea of a routine, but now the days are running together without much meaning. I wake up every morning dreading having to do a run, as if I have no choice. I wake up at the same time, as the morning light starts to filter into the bedroom. Tally then goes for her walk before I do some stretching, push-ups, and sit-ups. Before I know it, I’m out the door and pounding the pavement down the very same route most every day. I see the same people stuck in their own routines that become part of mine.
I come home in a sweat, and do my Wordle puzzles for the day, while eventually completing 7 Little Words. I’ll do fourteen laps in the pool to cool down and follow it up with a half-hour of writing, just like clock-work. Before I know it, I’m brushing my teeth, popping the same meds, in the shower shaving, and then eating lunch – all the same every single day. If it’s not for a doctor’s appointment, I rarely leave the house except to routinely walk Tally at noon and 9:30 pm before going to bed. Between times, she lounges in my office chair all day long with a similar bored look on her face, moving only for snacks and “yummy tummy” time. It’s like Groundhog Day, exactly the same routine every day of the week.
Sure, there are occasional slight variations. I might shorten my run as I did today because of too much to drink last night or skip the writing as I did yesterday. Most of the time, I’m on automatic pilot unless we travel or have company. Then, I actually have to think rather than go through the day like a retirement zombie! We had an overnight guest last night and went out for dinner for a little variety. Afterwards, we sat in the convertible with the top down near the downtown Venice bandshell and listened to the music. It wasn’t a very good performance, plus I was groggy from the beer and mojito. My wife and her friend took Tally for her nightcap walk, while I hit the sack. I woke up unmotivated, trying to figure out a way to break this cycle of retirement laziness that should be well-earned contentment. Going to the beach and tonight’s Patriotic Pops concert does not seem inspiring. Instead, I see it all as sadly boring. Been there…done that. Retirement – Ho Hum!
I’ve only shot a gun a few times in my life, so I don’t understand the appeal. I wasn’t attracted to toy guns, playing cowboys & Indians, or even war games. Guns are dangerous, especially in the wrong hands, and that has been proven once again in Uvalde, Texas. The death count is now at 19 children and two adults. It took place in an elementary school where people should be safe and was the deadliest since Sandy Hook in 2012. Just before the mass shooting, the 18-year old gunman allegedly texted a teenage girl about his intentions to attack and authorities report that he shot his grandmother.
Gun lovers will say that this is an isolated case of a gun getting in the hands of the wrong person. My contention is that anyone who owns a gun has to take responsibility for this horrific incident. Yes, I’m well aware of the sport of hunting, but this is equally cruel. At least, it’s justified by putting food on the table. I also know about the 2nd Amendment that was written in 1791, two hundred and thirty long years ago and am familiar with the bumper sticker saying, “if you outlaw guns only outlaws will have guns.” Self-protection is important and a Constitutional Right but the laws are not strict enough when an 18-year old psycho can walk into a school with a loaded weapon. According to Education Week, 27 school shootings have taken place already this year. Ten died in Buffalo less than two weeks ago. Over 200 mass shooting have been reported in just under five months.
I lived in Texas for seven years so I understand the culture. Bachelorette parties, for example, involve going to the ranch to hunt. Kids are taught to use guns as soon as they can lift one. In most cases, they never get formal training, claiming they came out of the womb packing, and guns go to college so that students can conveniently hunt on the weekends. I was shocked over how frequent and casual the conversations were about guns. I also remember my early days in the advertising business back in Indiana and Don’s Guns, whose cavalier owner and spokesman claimed, “I don’t want to make any money folks, I just love to sell guns!” If I had it my way, nobody would own a gun – they scare me!
Compromise simply isn’t working, while other countries have had success with reform. The NRA is apparently too powerful and our politicians suspiciously reluctant to legislate change. Sometimes it takes someone not in politics to point out the insanity that dominates our current situation. Steve Kerr, the head coach of the NBA’s Golden State Warriors was openly emotional, angry and frustrated in a recent press conference that was supposed to be about basketball.
“When are we going to do something? I am tired. I am so tired of getting up here and offering condolences to the devastated families out there. I’m tired of the moments of silence. Enough. … So I ask you, Mitch McConnell and all of you senators who refuse to do anything about the violence and the school shootings and the supermarkets shootings — I ask you, are you going to put your own desire for power ahead of the lives of our children and our elderly and our church-goers? Because that’s what it looks like. That’s what we do every week. I’m fed up. I’ve had enough. We can’t get numb to this. We can’t sit here and just read about it and say let’s have a moment of silence.”
I agree – the only shooting that should take place is on a basketball court.
I’ve given blood, had a preliminary check-up for an upcoming colonoscopy, learned how to spell colonoscopy, passed a dermatology exam, sat through a tooth cleaning, and had my eyes checked all in the past week. I seem to be in good enough shape to continue my running streak that will pass 4900 consecutive days later this week. I just got the United States Running Streak Association (USRSA) newsletter yesterday where I rank #226 in the world and have the 402nd longest streak on their currently published list of the top 1,000. Check out their site and the amazing stories of achievement at www.runeveryday.com.
Yesterday, I wiped out a colony of bees that made a nest in one of our bushes and spent the afternoon with my granddaughter in the pool. My wife entertained her while I went to the doctor and then made dinner for all of us. My son had taken his son to a movie after school let out, while my other granddaughter is on a three-day school field trip to the Keys. School lets out for the summer this Friday, so we’ll need to find some activities to keep them all busy the next few months.
Tally is home from the dog park and has settled in my office chair until I kick her out. It’s all hers while I finish this writing and then head to the chiropractor. We head into the Memorial Weekend with plans for an Indy 500 party on Sunday. We’ll also have overnight company. A welcome race fans flag has been planted near the front door. Start Your Engines.
Even though the White Sox are playing .500 ball and four games behind the Twins in the standings, I feel like they turned a corner at Yankee Stadium on Sunday. They got both a double header win and a series victory over the Pinstripes. Or should I say the Pinheads after the “Jackie” taunts from the fans? Tim Anderson quieted the crowd with his finger to his lips as he rounded the bases on a 3-run homer to seal the nightcap victory. Josh Donaldson earned a one-game suspension with his comment that many regarded as “racist.” It was probably the kick in the butt that the White Sox needed after losing three of four at Comiskey Park earlier in the season. This was supposed to be the year of the White Sox.
Manager Tony La Russa has been under fire, while injuries have plagued team performance. It’s been one thing after another, as fans grow restless. The red-hot Red Sox, winners of five straight, come to town tonight for another critical series. The Twins have also won five-straight to stretch their divisional lead over the Pale Hose. The White Sox have seemed to recover from their disastrous eight-game losing streak that included a sweep by the Twins. A positive sign was when they took a recent series from the Royals for a change. They need to build on the momentum of the two-straight Yankee victories and make up for lost opportunities.
Can the aging La Russa lead this team to the promised land? I’ve got all my eggs in one basket this season, since the Cubs are one-step up from Little League. I hope to see the Sox win in Tampa/St. Pete in a few weeks to remove the bad taste from last year’s visit to Tropicana. Lets Go Sox…take some more of that “Jackie” angst out on playing field and rally behind Tim Anderson for some big wins. Make the old man, La Russa, look good!
Yesterday was qualifying for the Indianapolis 500, bringing back many memories from years past. I could almost hear the words of Tom Carnegie, long time track announcer who passed ten years ago, “it’s a new track record!” Scott Dixon set a new mark for the pole position at 234.046 mph. I watched on TV from a thousand miles away, closer than the last fifteen years, having not been to the track in 20 years. We’ll celebrate this year with a race party this Sunday, treating our neighbors to the experience that was once a regular part of our lives.
My interest in racing anymore is Conor Daly, son of Indianapolis friends. His father Derek was a Speedway celebrity back when I was involved in the sport in the mid-1980s. His mother and I worked together at WIBC radio, the voice of the 500. I last saw them in Portland when the race came to town in September of 2018. Conor led 40 laps of last year’s Indy 500 after finally securing a steady ride. He’ll start in the middle of the pack this year. I saw him from a distance at last year’s St. Pete Grand Prix.
We’ll decorate with race flags, black & white checkered tablecloths, and memorabilia. Then we’ll all gather around the TV to sing “Back Home Again in Indiana” and wait for the “start your engines” command. Sarah Fisher will drive the pace car and the rest of the day will be a blur of brunch and booze. I’ll probably talk about my checkered past!
I know this is selfish, however, for once, Covid has had a positive affect. In this case, on the future of the IU basketball program. Trayce Jackson-Davis returns to Bloomington for his senior season after a positive Covid test kept him from pursuing his NBA dreams. I always felt that he had a lot more to prove at the college level and his draft stock was not high. Perhaps, First Team All American honors through another year of play will get him the attention he deserves. Without the Covid setback, he probably would have come back anyways but let’s give the virus its due!
The future of IU basketball looks bright, but I’m cautioned from chugging the Kool-Aid. (See Post #1840). I drank too much of it before last year’s IU football season, so I’m not ready to buy in to the preseason hype. Injuries and the transfer portal can easily put a damper on things, so I’ve always preferred reduced expectations. There’s already talk of a North Carolina match-up in the BIG/ACC Challenge, and perhaps another top-10 match up against the Big East. The Hoosiers are already headed to Vegas in December for a game against Arizona and a week later they travel to Kansas. They could have four quick losses before the BIG battles even begin! Hopefully, they won’t bite off more than they can chew and not have the Kool-Aid to wash it down.
Let’s instead start with the basics of beating Wisconsin, Iowa, Rutgers, and Purdue – four bitter losses last season. We did manage to stop the bleeding against the Boilermakers, but fell short in West Lafayette. It was indeed a positive finish for the year as the Hoosiers had their best showing in years in the BIG tourney. The team also barely got to the Big Dance for the first time in the TJD era but ran out of gas. Slowly mix-in four top recruits that should add depth and scoring and we just might have a delicious Kool-Aid concoction. Big gulps are not good but BIG wins are a priority. Let’s sip our way through the season and avoid a Kool-Aid hangover.
