The Spirit of St. Louis flew to Washington, DC in 1928, setting the stage for a new form of transportation. My next flight is not until September, although I’ll be making several airport pick-ups in the meantime. My wife has a flight to Oakland/San Francisco planned to see her daughter, who is also coming to visit us in a month. She’s also giving my Spring Training friends some extra space when they come to Venice and it becomes a Fraternity House. That was always the joke at the Marc’s Party at Mike’s annual event in Indianapolis when my office friends would take over the pool. There were warning signs saying, “This is not a Fraternity House.”
Another friend gave us a sign for our pool:
It all reminds me of this song by Five Man Electrical Band:
“Signs, Signs, Everywhere A Sign”
And the sign said
“Long-haired freaky people
Need not apply”
So I tucked my hair up under my hat
And I went in to ask him why
He said, “You look like a fine upstandin’ young man
I think you’ll do”
So I took off my hat and said, “Imagine that
Huh, me workin’ for you”
Whoa
Sign, sign
Everywhere a sign
Blockin’ out the scenery
Breakin’ my mind
Do this, don’t do that
Can’t you read the sign?
And the sign said
“Anybody caught trespassin’
Will be shot on sight”
So I jumped on the fence and I yelled at the house
“Hey! What gives you the right
To put up a fence to keep me out
But to keep Mother Nature in?
If God was here, he’d tell you to your face
‘Man, you’re some kind of sinner'”
Sign, sign
Everywhere a sign
Blockin’ out the scenery
Breakin’ my mind
Do this, don’t do that
Can’t you read the sign?
Now, hey you, mister, can’t you read?
You got to have a shirt and tie to get a seat
You can’t even watch, no, you can’t eat
You ain’t supposed to be here
The sign said, “You’ve got to have a membership card
To get inside”
Uh
And the sign said
“Everybody welcome
Come in, kneel down and pray”
But when they passed around the plate at the end of it all
I didn’t have a penny to pay
So I got me a pen and a paper
And I made up my own little sign
I said, “Thank you, Lord, for thinkin’ ’bout me
I’m alive and doin’ fine”
Woo!
Sign, sign
Everywhere a sign
Blockin’ out the scenery
Breakin’ my mind
Do this, don’t do that
Can’t you read the sign?
Sign, sign
Everywhere a sign
Sign
Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Arthur Thomas
Signs lyrics © Unichappell Music Inc., Galeneye Music
What is right and what is wrong? – Just give me sign!
I have been to many IU-Purdue basketball games in my lifetime and have never seen the Hoosiers lose – neither at Mackey Arena or Assembly Hall. Of course, I haven’t gone in many years, especially during this recent streak of 9-straight Boilermaker victories. I would have liked to have been there last night when the Hoosier fans stormed the court, something that Bob Knight would have never have approved of doing. His philosophy was to conduct yourself as if you’re expected to win. However, considering the past five years, I admittedly had no expectations for a win.
The #4 Boilers have bullied the Hoosiers of late, and Rob Phinisee knows better than anyone, having never beaten them in his four years of school. He grew up a Lafayette kid and raised eyebrows with his decision to go to Bloomington. Last night, for the first time, he felt that he had finally made the right choice. His heroics of “Rocky-like” proportions, ended the Black & Gold domination. “Phin for the win!” It was perhaps even more dramatic than Christian Watford’s dagger against top-rated Kentucky eleven-years ago, but nowhere in comparison to “The Shot” by Keith Smart to win the 1987 National Championship. I was there in New Orleans for that historic moment.
It was JUST Purdue this time, another BIG Conference victory, but for hungry, deprived IU basketball fans, it was the sweetest moment ever. It might mean an elusive NCAA Tourney bid for the Hoosiers, regardless of the outcome of the re-match at Purdue, a team that could go on to win it all. After all, the 1981 I.U. National Champs lost at Purdue by two-points, before the 3 was ever a factor, and cruised through the tournament. I’m actually hoping for the same thing to happen for Purdue this year. They are a good enough team to finally hang their own banner. However, let’s take this moment to celebrate. Take that you BIG Bully!
On June 19,1926, DeFord Bailey became the first African-American to perform on Nashville’s Grand Ole Opry. The Opry house has since moved to Opryland, but the historic Ryman Theater, that housed the Opry acts through 1974, is celebrating its 130th anniversary. It will be part of our summer tour up through the Midwest that also includes Panama City, Tuscaloosa, Indianapolis, Mackinac Island, Cleveland, Canton, Asheville, and Hilton Head. We plan to take the Nash Trash Tour, a comedy show on wheels through the key sights of the city on that Tennessee stop along the way. A night at the famous Grand Hotel is our ultimate destination, and the northernmost point on our drive. Other Michigan city destinations will include Ludington, Petoskey, and Traverse City.
We just returned from Vanderbilt Beach and Bonita Springs after an overnight stay with Indy friends and lunch with hometown Elkhart acquaintances. My wife is hosting a bridge club this afternoon, while I try to figure out what happened to my whiskey delivery from Flaviar? They report it delivered and signed for two weeks ago. I have video of the delivery person who set off my Ring doorbell and walked away with the box since no one was home. It required a signature, so I’ve been waiting for the second attempt, but Sonic Transportation claims the delivery was made. Someone will probably lose their job over this, but I hope they enjoyed my spirits.
I probably would have needed that sedative spirit tonight for the I.U. vs. Purdue basketball game, but I have other liquids to ease the pain. I have a bad feeling about this one after nine straight Hoosier losses. It will be tough for the Hoosier big men, TJD, Durr, and Race, to contain the #4-ranked Boiler twin towers of Williams and Edey. The “Good Guys in Crimson” also have Jaden Ivey and Sasha Stefanovic in Black & Gold to contend with on the perimeter. I’m certainly tired of losing to Purdue, and the only hope is that IU has not yet been defeated at home this season. When I most desperately need them – Where are my spirits?
I’m sitting on Vanderbilt Beach this morning where normally I’d be enjoying the solitude of waves lapping on the shore and seagulls chirping. Instead, there’s a couple of guys playing with their giant Tonka Toys, pushing sand from one spot to another and disturbing the peace with their ear-piercing backup warnings. Yesterday, it was window washers, with an equally annoying beep as they moved their hydraulic equipment alongside the condominium buildings. To make matters worse the temperature is in the low 50s, so the piles of sand are reminiscent of snow drifts.
We had big plans last night with our friends to run together and attend a yoga class on the beach. Instead, I put on my mittens and hat for a solo run to the nearby State Park. My wife is taking a hot bath, while the others are trying to work up a yoga sweat with a chilly wind off the Gulf. We’ll be leaving soon for a lunch with other friends, while they are expecting more overnight guests.
We did have a nice afternoon by the pools, protected from the wind, despite the construction going on around us. My wife and I should be used to the lack of quiet with all the building happening in our neighborhood. We thought we might get away from it for the night, but that was not to be. We also enjoyed a grilled salmon dinner, conversation, and games last night, but it’s now time to move along. I took a few minutes to write this after completing my daily 7 Little Words puzzles, before hitting the shower.
We’ll be making a new acquaintance over lunch at nearby Doc’s Beach House in Bonita Springs, just down the road from Coconut Jack’s where we met Illinois friends over the Christmas holidays. The widow of my high school buddy has moved forward and found new love. It’s reassuring to know that she’s happy again after losing her husband of forty years. We spread his ashes at Wrigley Field together in July of 2016. It was my opportunity to say goodbye. Her new friend is from my hometown, so I’m sure we’ll have many folks in common. It’s going to be a good day.
As we look back in U.S. history, “the Immigration Act of 1924 is passed and sharply cuts the number of immigrants allowed into the United States. Ellis Island changes from being an entry point into the country to being a detention and deportation point for illegal aliens and those who violated terms of admittance. It starts to go into disuse.” Ninety-eight years later it’s still a humanity issue that divides America.
On a lighter note, we did see two movies yesterday, including a matinee showing of Sing 2 at the theater and an evening performance of Paul is the Walrus at our neighborhood community center. First of all, it’s hard to believe that our annual Regal movie passes have yet to expire after nearly two years. It is very generous on the part of Regal to have extended our purchase long beyond their Covid shut-down period, or they have simply forgotten about us! We’ve gone to a free movie nearly every week since we arrived in Florida 10-months ago. It’s not as convenient as it was in downtown Portland when we could walk to a movie.
The evening theater performance was produced by one of our neighbors and was a sing-a-long play about the rumored death of the Beatles’ Paul McCartney, started back in the late sixties. Mysterious clues were exposed on album covers and by playing recordings backwards. Did he really die in a car crash and was replaced by a double? It was a fun way to engage with all our neighbors before our next get together in early February. Photos and voice recognition before and after the supposed crash loosely validate the conspiracy theory.
Steam was rolling off the heated pool surface this morning with the temperature in the mid-forties. It was the coolest morning we’ve experienced since the move, so a hat, jacket, and gloves were part of my morning 5k run. We’re headed south about an hour this afternoon to visit friends for the night. It might be a few degrees warmer, but far too nippy for beach yoga as planned.
I had an odd childhood memory this morning when I saw a Juan Marichal baseball card on a Facebook post. It was if I could see myself as a youngster opening a fresh pack of cards with the distinct smell of bubblegum and finding this missing player from my collection. The familiar smell from all those years back was what made this moment a special kind of flashback.
It is a cloudy “Matinee Monday,” a good afternoon for indoor entertainment. Tomorrow, we head to Vanderbilt Beach, about an hour-and-a-half south of us for a reunion with Indianapolis friends. We got together last year about this time of year, as they take a two-week break from the cold before heading back to WORK. I can barely remember the meaning of that four-letter word. Obviously, they are a bit younger than we are. We’ll spend the night, with Tally staying with a new sitter, a neighbor from the dog park. The folks from “Schnauzerville” where she likes to go are on a cruise, but it’s good to have multiple options for pet care as much as we’d like to travel. On Wednesday morning we’ll drive into nearby Bonita Springs and meet some hometown friends for lunch. She was the wife of a good high school friend who died several years ago and has been in a new relationship for awhile. I’ve yet to meet him, but soon will, since they too are getting away from the chilly Indiana weather.
Florida is a great place to renew acquaintances with the Midwest snowbirds. I guess at one time I could have been considered such an animal, but I’m now a full time resident. I was pretty far removed from my Hoosier friends, living both in Austin and Portland for the last dozen years. Only rarely did we have visitors, but I had the good fortune of knowing several Oregon Hoosiers, dating back to high school. I miss hanging out with them, especially “Leadership Meetings” at Buffalo Wild Wings. They’re coming down here for Spring Training, plus I’ll visit them in Portland come September.
We got some of the fliers out yesterday for the Neighborhood Meet-up in a few weeks and will see a lot of them tonight at the events center for a movie one of them produced. It could be two movies in one day for my wife and I! As a result, I will miss some of the IU basketball game tonight, but have a feeling that this may be a good thing – we have little to gain and a lot to lose. The team has not won a BIG road game in nearly a year, plus Nebraska is last in the conference. If we lose this one – all hope is gone. It will be better to simply monitor the score and keep my comments to myself. Getting together with these new neighbor friends will be a welcome distraction.
It’s a “Stormy Sunday” – I think the Allman Brothers chose the wrong day, but Herb Alpert and other artists got it right. I had to run between the raindrops and dodge the lightening strikes to get my minimum mile in this morning.
“They call it stormy Monday
But Tuesday’s just as bad
They call it stormy Monday
But Tuesday’s just as bad
Lord, and Wednesday’s worse
And Thursday’s all so bad
The eagle flies on Friday
Saturday I go out to play
The eagle flies on Friday
Saturday I go out to play
Sunday I go to church, yeah
Gonna kneel down and pray
Lord have mercy
Lord have mercy on me
Lord have mercy
Lord have mercy on me
Though I’m tryin’ and tryin’ to find my baby
Won’t somebody please send ‘er home“
Songwriters: Aaron T-Bone Walker
Stormy Monday lyrics © Peermusic Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group, Wixen Music Publishing, Raleigh Music Publishing
I went to the “church of the pavement” and continued my running streak to 4,767 days, despite the stormy skies. As this song went through my mind, I immediately thought of a New Year’s performance by the Brothers at the House of Blues in Chicago, but I really should have given credit to Aaron Thibeaux “T-Bone” Walker, an influence not only for the Allman’s but also other great guitarists like Jimi Hendrix, and Steve Miller in pioneering the electric blues. Walker’s family friend was Lemon Henry “Blind Lemon” Jefferson, who often came over for dinner and played with his musician parents. Young Walker would guide Jefferson to his gigs before “T-Bone,” short for Thibeaux, made his own professional debut with Columbia Records.
I watched Season Three of Ricky Gervais’ After Life, a series that reminded me of a friend who just lost his wife. Every day is stormy for him right now, and this show, even though a comedy, helped me put things in perspective about trying to move forward. It’s an odd mix of characters and some bazaar British content, but the show grew on me. I highly recommend it for anyone who’s lost a friend or loved one. I also thought that Stay Close, another BBC production for Netflix of the Harlan Coben novel, had some interesting twists, while Peaky Blinders may be one of the most violent gangster series I’ve experienced. So, what to watch on a Stormy Sunday?
I feel like I was maybe a bit under the weather yesterday. Where did that term come from, by the way? “Its origin may have to do with sailing. Commenting on the origins of this phrase, the website The Phrase Finder mentions that in older times, when a sailor was feeling seasick, he would be sent below deck so he could get away from being under the harsh weather.” In my case, I believe it had to do with giving blood the day before and therefore lacking the energy that I normally have. It was hard to get through the 5k distance.
Back in 1921, just a century ago, “the full-length silent comedy-drama film The Kid, written, produced, directed by and starring Charlie Chaplin (in his Tramp character), with Jackie Coogan, is released.” Sadly, I can’t imagine a day without television and the ability to watch movies, sports, and shows. I might have been lost in the previous century without the modern conveniences. Yesterday, I binge-watched the Harlan Corbin mini-series, Stay Close, started season 3 of Afterlife, and sat through another episode of Peaky Blinders.
My wife did get me out of the house yesterday afternoon to go to a plant nursery. The HOA has insisted that we involve a licensed supplier as a condition of approving the design plans that a friend (and professional) prepared for us. It’s taken a long time to get approval with their offices closed for the holidays and all the hoops they make us jump through. The first supplier we contacted wanted $100 up front just to see if there were any hidden obstructions. Why they just don’t build it into their installation fee is beyond us? Other projects around the house are now interfering with our time line, including the need to repair storm damage to our lanai and some custom shelving we’re having built. Where’s the money?
Another decade has passed in “Blog World” as I move into the “Roaring Twenties.” In the real world I’m also in the Twenties – year 2022. “The Roaring Twenties, sometimes stylized as the Roarin’ 20s, refers to the decade of the 1920s in Western society and Western culture. This period saw the large-scale development and use of automobiles, telephones, films, radio, and electrical appliances in the lives of millions in the Western world.”
I live in many worlds, including those revolving around writing this blog, the Ban(n)ister family, my running streak, sports, reading, and watching TV. However, in reality, it’s all about my marriage, my son and his family, as well as getting settled in a new home. Tonight will be “Date Night,” but I will not be my wife’s date and we missed “Sunset Tuesday” and “Tourist Thursday” due to other obligations. The upcoming weekend is completely free for once.
I gave blood yesterday, while my wife added another bridge class as she continues to learn the game. She’s out the door again for an Aqua Fit class after her morning routine with Tally at the dog park. This afternoon she has a tap class and in the evening an event at the Venice Art Museum with girlfriends. She’s incredibly active in retirement, while I limit my exercise to an early morning run and swim. Interaction for me is limited, while she drives our social engagements. We’ll soon be having another “Meet The Neighbors” gathering in early February. I’m in mourning after last night’s IU basketball loss at Iowa, something I’m getting used to, although it’s unsettling to be frequently on the losing side.
As has been customary in recent posts, I’ve included a historical tidbit as part of my daily thoughts. Back in the year 1919, “the USA needed security. Instead, cities experienced “Red Scare” bombings, race riots, workers striking, vets competing for jobs, May Day demonstrations, armed resistance movements and the deportations of 149 people, including political activist Emma Goldman, to Russia. Historians rate 1919 ‘America’s worst year.'” This all according to Wikipedia that is always an easy resource. A Penny for their thoughts!
With my lifelong fascination of finding abandoned coins on the ground I have posted about “Pennies from Heaven” in my ramblings. (See Post #183). In my daily runs, I’ve only found a couple of quarters and a nickel on these new neighborhood streets. Running in downtown Portland was an entirely different experience. Much more traffic and parked cars as opposed to construction equipment here. I haven’t found a single penny since we moved here 10-months ago.
I ran across this poem on Facebook the other day from an anonymous source:
“Found a penny today,
Just laying on the ground.
But it’s not just a penny,
This little coin I’ve found.
Found pennies come from heaven
That’s what my grandpa told me.
He said, “Dog-Angels toss them down.”
Oh, how I loved that story.
He said, “When a Dog-Angel misses you,
He tosses a penny down.
Sometimes just to cheer you up,
To make a smile out of your frown.”
So don’t pass by that penny,
When you’re feeling blue.
It may be a penny from heaven,
That your dog has tossed to you.”
ForTheLoveOfTheDog
I’ve written about this phenomenon, but always attributed it to a wink from my parents or other angels watching over me (See Post #1594), especially when there was a quarter involved. I just never gave the dogs due credit – shame on me – until I read this poetic tribute. I promise to give a future nod to my former pups like Tinker, Roxie, Belle, Gizmo, Smiley and Brittney. I suppose I should also include the cats, but three coins over ten months makes credit hard to divide. Where’s the Change, Florida?
