Author: mikeljohnston1 (Page 67 of 267)
I’ve started another streak…this time with the game Wordle where I’m now 23-0 but remaining humble. Obviously, I’ve only been playing for less than a month, but supplementing it with Quordle that is much more challenging, having stumped me a couple of times already. The running streak of course continues, but poor Tally got sick on my office rug. I didn’t notice it until after my first couple of preparation stretches when I felt some moist spots on my back. I had laid right in it, so there was a delay getting started this morning. It was a rough way to begin my Sunday, especially after finding out that my nephew’s youngest son had to be air-lifted out of Cancun to Miami for medical reasons. He’s recovering at Joe DiMaggio Children’s Hospital after a couple scary nights in a Mexican facility that required cash in advance for treatment. It was apparently a costly vacation.
I went to a retirement party last night about ten houses down from us. After just one year in this neighborhood, we’ve made lots of friends and gone to many parties where I can drink and walk home. The alcohol messes with my sleep, so it was a restless night. All I have on my agenda today is more baseball, the Long Beach Indycar race, and The Masters. I’ll be fighting Tally for the chair in my office, where she’s laying right now. Maybe I’ll go outside to watch once it warms up a bit? It was a little chilly in the pool this morning.
I got a call from one of my Portland buddies during the party last night. He was joking that he had an extra ticket for the annual Old Timer’s Baseball dinner. I doubt that I’ll make the 3,000 mile trip but will see my friends in Portland this September before our Alaska cruise. Atlanta Brave’s Hall of Famer, Dale Murphy #3, is the guest speaker in his home town, and I’ve asked them to get me an autographed copy of his book titled Murph. The event is in two weeks, so I’ll be in touch that night. Last time we attended, most of us all nodded off after the speakers droned on. We’re hoping that Dale will be more entertaining. A giant mural of him is on our neighborhood stadium where the Braves host Spring Training every year. Keep them awake Murph!
The year 2000 was special–even though it wasn’t the start of the 21st century–because it was a leap year. This according to Scientific American. “Julius Caesar devised the leap year to correct for the fact that the earth circles the sun in 352.24219 days. Because this is not a whole number, the months of the year would slowly fall out of sync with the seasons. A fairly precise correction to the Gregorian calendar debuted in 1582, and stated that a century year will only be a leap year if it is evenly divisible by 400–which is true for Y2K.” Mathematic or astronomical nonsense aside, “the official calendar millennium did not start until the year 2001. We, therefore, celebrated it twice, although my wife to be severely cut her fingers making dinner, so we spent New Year’s Eve 2000 in a hospital waiting room. In 2001, we were making plans for our wedding.
This morning I marked day 4,850 of “The Streak.” I’m now lucky to break a 15-minute mile, as I slowly chug along, far from “leaping,” on our neighborhood streets. Wind has been a factor these past few days, but it’s been fortunately at my back after the half-way point of my 5k daily journey. It’s also my birth mother’s 89th birthday, but she sadly doesn’t acknowledge my existence, although my wife insists that she hasn’t forgotten. I hope to see some Facebook posts to assure me that she’s all right. It’s been a year since I’ve seen any pictures usually posted by my two living half-siblings on her side, who also have not responded to my letters. Today always brings out the Jerry Lee Banister side of me, as was recorded on my birth certificate. The birth father’s family has been more than welcoming.
Tomorrow is National Siblings Day, so I have eleven people to remember. First, is my sister that I grew up with that was also adopted. In addition, there were six Banister children from my birth father, with five girls are still alive. The son died in an accident as a teenager, so I’m the only living male on that side of the family. I’ve met four of the now women, plus their mother, and frequently stay in touch with one. I will visit her again in July. My birth mother had four children after me. Two have passed, so technically I now have seven partial siblings still alive to honor on this annual occasion. I regularly maintain a Ban(n)ister Family Tree on Ancestry that ties together all the members of my adopted and DNA families, as I continue to search for genetic connections.
2024 is the next leap year, having seen five go by since the year 2000, and ran on three February 29ths since my streak started in 2009. In my mind, the only distinguishing factor is that extra day in February. Otherwise, there are 365 days every year, with one additional running day every four years. I just hope I can continue to Leap Forward for many years to come.
I could resist with post #1999 – thanks, Prince. Next up, tomorrow my 2,000th retirement message. It’s been nearly that many days since I left the workforce on December 30, 2016 (1.925 days to be exact). It shows that I’ve met my daily pledge of a post each day. “Party On, Wayne!” I recall the t-shirts that we printed back in my Ft. Wayne softball days, circa 1984. “Hello, my name is Doug Clark and I wanna party with you!” His wife wore a similar version of “Hello, my name is Deb Clark and you’d rather party with me.” They were phrases coined at the bar where we would hang out after games – O’Sullivans Tavern. As we passed along full trays holding shot glasses of kamakazes, Doug and Deb were the friendly faces of our group that would take over the bar and sing “New York, New York,” on stage. We would have easily adopted this song if would have existed at the time:
“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you
I only want you to have some fun
… I was dreamin’ when I wrote this
Forgive me if it goes astray
But when I woke up this mornin’
Could’ve sworn it was judgment day
… The sky was all purple
There were people runnin’ everywhere
Tryin’ to run from the destruction
You know I didn’t even care
… Say, say, 2000-00, party over
Oops, out of time
So tonight I’m gonna party like it’s 1999
… I was dreaming’ when I wrote this
So sue me if I go too fast
Life is just a party
And parties weren’t meant to last
… War is all around us
My mind says prepare to fight
So if I gotta die
I’m gonna listen to my body tonight, yeah
… They say, 2000-00, party over
Oops, out of time
So tonight I’m gonna party like it’s 1999
Yeah, yeah
… Let me tell ya something
If you didn’t come to party
Don’t bother knockin’ on my door
I got a lion in my pocket
And, baby, he’s ready to roar
Yeah, yeah
… Everybody’s got a bomb
We could all die any day, aw
But before I’ll let that happen
I’ll dance my life away, oh-oh-oh
… They say, 2000-00, party over
Oops, out of time
We’re runnin’ outta time
So tonight we gonna party like it’s 1999
… Say it one more time
2000-00, party over
Oops, out of time, no, no
So, tonight we gonna, we gonna, whoa!
… Alright, it’s 1999
You say it, 1999
1999
Oh, 1999
Don’t stop, don’t stop, say it one more time
… 2000-00, party over
Oops, out of time
Yeah-yeah
So tonight, I’m gonna party like it’s 1999 (we gonna, whoa)
… 1999
Don’tcha wanna go (1999)
Don’tcha wanna go, oh (1999)
We could all die any day (1999)
… I don’t wanna die
I’d rather dance my life away (1999)
Listen to what I’m tryin’ to say
Everybody, everybody said party
… C’mon now, you said party
That’s right, everybody say (party)
You can’t run from the revelation, no (party)
Sing it for your nation, y’all (party)
… Dreamin’ when youu’re singin’, baby say (party)
Telephone’s a-ringin’, mama now (party)
C’mon, c’mon, you say (party)
Everybody, do tell me (party)
… Work it down to the ground
I say (party)
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh (party)
Come on, take my body, baby (party)
That’s right, c’mon, sing me the song (party)
Yeah-yeah, oh, no no (party)
… That’s right (party)
Got a lion in my pocket mama, say (party)
Oh, and he’s ready to roar (party)
… Mommy
Why does everybody have a bomb?
Mommy
Why does everybody have a bomb?”
Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Prince
1999 lyrics © Npg Publishing
This blog is now quickly approaching the Twentieth Century, with this post #1998. Monica Lewinsky made big news that year as part of the President Clinton sex scandal. Ironically, the FDA approved Viagra for erectile dysfunction about that same time. I was in the process of leaving WISH-TV in Indianapolis to run WLFI-TV in nearby Lafayette, while in the unpleasant business of going through a divorce. My son had already permanently moved to Florida, far removed from the knock-down, drug-out battle that ensued. He’s still in Florida to this day, twenty-four years later, and sadly going through this horrible ordeal with his wife and three kids at home.
When we moved in to our Florida home a year ago, there were ten “holes” in the ceiling that needed to be filled. They were each hidden with a white plastic cover that hid the wiring above. Last night, my son installed the final overhead fixture, one of which moved with us from Portland. It was my twentieth anniversary gift for my wife, a crystal chandelier from a nearby display window, as close to “China” as we could get. (See Post #1995). We had an electrician hang it in our new dining room, along with three lights suspended over the kitchen bar, LED lighting to highlight the backsplash under the cabinets, and two bathroom lights. We called him about installing the rest of our purchases but he never responded. My son offered to help, needing a distraction from his home life.
He has already situated two lanai fans, decorative fixtures in both bedrooms, a complicated, artsy installation in the great room, and an overhead light in my office. In addition, he replaced the lights on each side of the garage door and will soon add a matching pendulum light in the front outdoor entrance foyer. Finally, a motion sensor has been installed in the garage for hands-free light operation, while my wife has plans for more of these. Next, we’ll look into landscape lighting to further keep him busy. Watching my grandkids is all part of the deal, along with what we would have paid an electrician, who would have turned up his nose at several of these intricate crystal pieces that took hours of patience to install. We’ve still invested over $18,000 in this project, with several thousand yet to go, but we’re finally starting to see the “light” at the end of the tunnel.
I was home all day on Wednesday with my grand daughter. My patience tended to wane in the early afternoon after a morning of unicorn riding in the pool. Tally was no where in sight disturbed by both the inflatable floating unicorn and little girls. My wife watched the little one early while I got my 3.1 mile run in, then took Tally to the dog park. It was a good thing that I was home to meet with the pool cage repairman who showed up unexpectedly. He was over a week early on my warranty schedule, so another appointment is now off the list, along with the painter. Cabinets, plumbing, heat pump, a/c compressor, electrical, and roof tiles remain on the schedule of final repairs after one year of living in our new Florida home.
I don’t envy those that are currently experiencing construction delays and price increases in our neighborhood. Lumber, windows, and doors seem to be the biggest issues. Housing demand in Florida is growing by leaps and bounds. We were fortune to avoid temporary housing, as is the case with many new residents. They wander through the framework of their future home, waiting for finishing work, while hundreds of new starts pop up around them.
I missed the final Spring Training game yesterday, as the regular season starts tomorrow, except in those areas affected by rain and cold weather. I sit here watching animated Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood episodes (See Post #1790), anticipating the end of my baby sitting commitment. Tomorrow, it will be back to the boring, yet desirable routine.
A full day of watching my grand daughter can only be described as exhausting! She’s so sweet but yet destructive. We spent time together in our pool, the larger resort pool, and the playground to keep her physically busy. Video games and TV were occasionally useful. She wanted to join my wife’s aqua-fit class where the noodles were flying. It was rough water for a going on four-year old. We’ll do it all again tomorrow.
We all started the day about an hour early by prepping for dinner. When my son gets done with jury duty, we’ll grill the pork chops that have been marinating all day in sugar and brine. We also need to hang a chandelier that’s sitting on the floor with delicate crystals that she can’t stay away from despite the warnings. Her name is Nora but I think “Ignora” describes her better. I’ve been a grumpy old man all day, trying to keep her out of trouble.
Basketball started too late last night. Mounting a towel rack also tried my patience. The early start and dramatic variation from the routine is wearing on my tolerance as I truly feel seventy-years old. I never was a good parent even in my prime years. Babysitting is not one of my better qualities, but I knew that moving nearby my grandkids rather than 3,000 miles away would result in some inconvenience and disruption.
I had some big writing days over the weekend, but fell short these past two days. Workmen were here on Monday, infringing on my creative time. Tuesday was an early morning with my granddaughter while my son was stuck on jury duty. We did use our newly renewed Regal Unlimited movie passes to continue the Matinee Monday tradition with the “Lost City,” after an evening of mediocre bands trying to mimic Rolling Stones and CCR tunes. My wife also attended the Chalk Festival at the Venice airport after we enjoyed brunch at a neighbors home. In addition, there was a warm-up, happy hour for the bad band performance. All in all, busy retirement times continue.
We’ve gone to the hardware store two consecutive days and finished a few small projects around the house. We hope to get our remaining overhead lights installed yet this week. A painter did some warranty touch-up work while I watched the fifth episode of Winning Time. I’m also proud to mention that I won my first bracket jackpot by picking Kansas to go all the way.
I gave up my free ticket for the final Braves Spring Training game this week to babysit. The regular season now begins, but the games in our back yard won’t be back until next year. Our next big event at the Neighborhood Stadium is the Memorial Weekend Patriotic Pops concert. I did get in a first this Spring with a ride to the game on a golf cart.
Speaking of golf, it’s Masters week and Tiger may play after all. I’ll be anxious to watch the coverage this weekend. We have two more sets of visitors before we head to Singer Island for our 21st wedding anniversary on April 20th. It’s a far cry from China that we had originally planned before the Covid mess. We were trying to be clever in celebrating this Hallmark China gift occasion but it simply wasn’t to be.
Three poems in one day is probably a record but two of them have been in the works for weeks. I just put the finishing touches on them and submitted them to my blog. I’m not supposed to write about this subject because I was a little vague with my sister about going to meet the cousins or not. At first, I thought that local family matters would interfere with my plans to drive to Bonita Springs. My sister was not included because of health issues and this was disappointing to both of us. We are all connected through my dad’s father, Grandpa J., who passed in 1992, thirty years ago. I am the modern day Grandpa J.
The restaurant was called Traverna in their Vasari golf club subdivision. The sad and embarrassing moment was when I was shocked to discover that my eldest cousin’s husband passed last year. As a result, I had awkwardly put my foot in my mouth. The visit did inspire me to write the poem, “Dozens of Cousins.” (See Post #1993). They all heard the poems that I wrote for my parents’ funerals and asked if I would do one for our long overdue reunion. I’ve complied in short fashion below.
Years ago, the family would gather every year at Simonton Lake in Elkhart or at nearby Oxbow Park. We’d have a picnic and play croquet or catch, as was the tradition. The only pleasant get-togethers in recent years have been the girl’s weekend that this year happened to be by our new Florida home. Two men were actually in attendance this year, while my cousin John was not included, and I crashed the party accompanied by my wife.
By the way, the names may have been changed to protect the innocent – more poetic license.
Cousins Unite
Glad we reunited,
At Traverna this year.
The news was mostly good,
Except that one sad tear.
I crashed the “girls” weekend,
And now I must confess.
Glad Al could join us,
Cause I forgot my dress.
Vasari is beautiful,
And we’re not far away.
Maybe we can do it again,
Some other glorious day.
I think of you all often,
As cousins and friends.
Our Grandpa J. connection,
Will thankfully never end.
Though we have many cousins,
You’ll always be our “favs.”
And I refuse to rhyme this,
With the obvious “graves.”
I miss Simonton days,
And even Oxbow Park.
Sadly, our reunions,
Have been left in the dark.
But the Florida sun,
Brought us together.
While John was stuck,
In Hoosier weather.
Copyright 2022 johnstonwrites.com
I spend a lot of time on Ancestry.com and other DNA sites hoping to find answerers about being a lovable bastard. I’ve built a family tree of nearly 40,000 ancestors, most of whom have unfortunately taken their earthly knowledge to the grave. My initial hope was to find physically-like relatives, thinking this would somehow satisfy my curiosity. I have found and spoken with several understanding half-sisters and now have photographs of my birth father that passed eleven years ago. I am happy to report that there is a common resemblance. The bio-mother and her family remain unresponsive after claims that all this scientific, hospital, and adoption agency evidence that I have is incorrect. Apparently, my birth never happened, so may childhood fantasies of being born to a Queen may still be true. In my poem that I wrote today, this too is an example of poetic license, along with another reference to heaven above:
Dozens of Cousins
We all have a mother,
But I have had two.
One that gave birth,
Another I well knew.
My family adopted,
Without D-N-A..
While others genetic,
Strangers to this day.
Aunts and Uncles,
There were dozens.
And my family tree,
Shows plenty of cousins.
All were related,
But some through genes.
No, not denim,
By scientific means.
I grew up not knowing,
The difference between.
And once fantasized,
I was born to a Queen.
I got plenty of love,
And everything I wanted.
But something was missing,
And so I hunted.
I needed to see,
Physical resemblance.
Thinking that life,
Would then make sense.
But the bio mom,
Now claims who?
And her lover,
Had no clue.
There are pictures,
And siblings, too.
But they won’t replace,
The relatives I knew.
Cousins I grew up with,
And parents full of love.
A sister that I lived with,
And grandparents now above.
Familiarity is everything,
Genes don’t mean a thing.
I’m grateful for my life,
But it started as a fling.
Copyright 2022 johnstonwrites.com