Many years ago, a friend gifted me an Ernie Banks autographed baseball. It came in a protective plastic case but was never authenticated. I passed it along to my son, a bigger Cubs fan, along with a signed jersey, “W” blanket, and a Cubs leather jacket. He decided to put together a collage of “Mr. Cub” items, including the ball, jersey, and 1959 baseball card in a wood and glass showcase that was proudly mounted on his living room wall.
It remained intact in my son’s Florida home until recently when they moved to the Atlantic Coast, where his wife was completing her degree in ophthalmology. He asked me to keep it safe for him during the move, along with his baseball card and comic book collections. I mounted the glass case on my office wall, along with my other precious collectables.
One night recently, I heard a crash and discovered that the wall anchors had failed to hold, so it fell several feet to the tile floor. The glass broke into a million pieces but everything else was fortunately intact. I intended to get it fixed but with my recent back surgery it was too cumbersome to deal with, so it stood upright on the floor. My mistake was that I didn’t think about how intriguing that unprotected ball was to our one-year-old puppy, Fosse. One day out of boredom she rolled the ball out of the case and proceeded to chew the cover off. Bad Dog!
The ball is now on my desk with not even a small sign that the Bank’s autograph ever existed, although I can still make out the Rawlings logo. President William B. White’s stamped autograph as part of the OFFICIAL BALL of the NATIONAL LEAGUE seal is still visible. There are no bit marks or damage to the red stitches, so obviously the tastiest part was Ernie’s autograph, that is now in a poop bag somewhere. I know that “the dog ate my homework” is a popular excuse, but in this case, Fosse ate my Ernie.
Ernie Banks died in 2015, ten years ago, and was still alive when I received this special ball. He was #14 and was a Cub from 1953 to 1971, played in 2,526 games with 2,583 hits, 512 HRs, and 1636 RBI’s according to the stitching on the limited-edition (2 of 14) uniform. He was inducted into the HOF in 1977 as a fourteen-time All-Star. He was also NL MVP in 1958 &1959 and is the most beloved Cub of all time (with a tasty autograph). I can buy another signed ball on Ebay, but I’m still disturbed that Mr. Cub died a painful second death in my custody!
Our 15-pound schnauzer named Fosse thinks that she is a big dog. There are two sides to our dog park – big and little – she prefers to be BIG. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday three “Aussies” (Australian Shepards) come to the park led by owner’s Val and Mike. We call them “the circus,” as they leap in the air to catch frisbees. Fosse is enamored with them, squeaking with delight as they approach.
Little Fosse joins the circus when they arrive, keeping pace with them, afraid only of the flying frisbees. For some reason, she won’t go near these flying discs, chasing after the dogs instead as they grab them from the air. Fosse will bound at full speed, often with a ball in her mouth, as the “Aussies” go through their morning routine. She does stay away when they are hosed off at the end of their workout. Otherwise, she’s an Aussie Wanna-Be!
Our other schnauzer, Tally, watches from the sideline, her 15-year-old body no longer suitable for romping with the “Aussies.” Fosse, as a one-year-old, has boundless energy and goes to the dog park twice a day. Tally often sleeps in or pretends when it comes time to leave but is always up for a treat or when smelling scintillating scents from the kitchen. Tally once had Fosse-like energy, as did her predecessor, Tinker, who liked to chase the ducks through the mud at our lake home. Dogs will be dogs, but Fosse strives to grow up to be an “Aussie.”
Our two pups are off to “Camp Schnauzerville,” while we do a long weekend at the Keys. I’m up bright and early but they are not around today for the first outing of the day. I’m missing the interaction, while the quiet is deafening. “Schnauzerville” is where Fosse was born – her mom and dad live there and the place where Tally has stayed since we moved to Florida. It’s an invaluable dog sitting and grooming service at an affordable price, although the place is “racist” – only allowing Schnauzers. Unlike most dogs, Fosse’s dad is a swimmer, and she has been in the water and encouraged to paddle, although we would prefer that she stay out of our pool. Fortunately, she needs the confidence of her daring father, so with the exception of an occasional slip, she skirts the pool. Both dogs do enjoy sitting in the sun on the lanai and will lazily join me while I read in the afternoons.
One of the endearing things about pairing an older schnauzer with a puppy is the learning process – old dogs teach new dogs new behavior tricks. For example, when the mature pup barks, the student chimes in. One of my favorites, however, is the need to redecorate when we leave them alone to “watch each other.” They move rugs from room to room, scatter their toys in a frenzy, and relocate their beds and bowls. When we come home, the kitchen runner is in the living room, despite its rubber backing. When my wife slides it back in place, they both jump on for a joy ride. It’s like two dogs on a toboggan. I’m not sure where Fosse learned her bad habit of destroying TV remotes – I can’t afford to leave them out, after losing at least five while others are held together with tape.
We’ll pick them up on Monday morning, after the long weekend, groomed, bathed, and worn out from playing with the other boarders, in Fosse’s case, brothers, sisters, cousins, and parents. Although there are some gray and white varieties, most are black. They love their own kind, and I’m enjoying them together – Tally is 15 and Fosse 1. They live to eat, constantly scavenging for crumbs, or planning their next redecorating project.
It’s been since December 23rd, 46 days since I’ve written anything. It’s the longest stretch of inactivity since I started this blog. It’s good exercise for my fingers, although my tremors make it difficult to hit the right keys and can make writing quite difficult. I should probably use a voice function but fingers on keys feel good – more rewarding. My entries get little recognition, so this is all about personal therapy.
Sciatica pain has kept me from doing this blog. Sitting can be uncomfortable and being in pain does not provide much motivation for doing things. Netflix and books on tape keep me entertained, as I work on my tan, but also lead to many unproductive naps. Going to the gym has been limited to the stationary bike, more sitting on my butt. I’ve continued with chair yoga despite the limitations of my flexibility and lack of balance. I feel flabby and uncomfortable in my skin.
Yesterday, I finally got some relief. The surgeon removed a cyst that was choking my sciatic nerve. It apparently was a difficult procedure, but I obviously feel much better, as evidenced by my return to the keyboard. I hope to get back on track but need to find more interesting topics other than pain management that has consumed my mind for months. No one really wants to read about others misfortune, since we all regularly experience pain in different ways. At least, mine can be fixed. I promise to be more positive in the future, once I can comfortably walk again. Right now, I’m like a staggering, peg-legged pirate on an unsteady plank.
I’m lucky that I sought a second opinion. I was initially referred to a pain management doctor. The first steroid injection seemed to help, but the second and third seemed to aggravate the sciatic nerve. It was like I had a constant knot in my thigh, coupled with the burning sensations down my left leg. Nighttime was particularly difficult finding a comfortable position. Lying down seemed to aggravate these nerves even more and it felt like acid was dripping down my left leg; it was literally on fire! After this surgery, I didn’t have those uncomfortable sensations last night, an indication that the sciatic nerve is already healing. I can only hope this continues. When the pain management doctor suggested an insert called “The Minuteman,” I asked around for others that had gone through this or knew someone who had? After little feedback, I consulted a neurosurgeon that had done spinal work on several neighbors.
There were more delays getting in to see him, and the pain persisted, as it has for the last year. “The Minuteman,” would have been an expensive, unnecessary surgery, since the cyst issue would not have been resolved and eliminated. For the first time, I feel like I’m on the way to recovery and made a good choice looking for another option.
Our poor, 15-year-old schnauzer Tally also feels the discomfort of arthritis, and I can clearly relate. When they took away the Advil a week prior to surgery, I could feel every aching joint in my body. Tally and I were on a similar path, and I wish we could help her more. Her one-year-old sister Fosse continues to be the Energizer Bunny and the envy of both of us. Tally also had an upset stomach this morning and ignored her treats, a rare occurrence. Finally, she ate enough grass to puke on our rug. Actually, it was a welcome sight to watch her then collapse in relief and eventually head to her bed, despite the cleanup. She’ll rest, like me, this afternoon. The next step for me is to have my lower back sutures taken out next week, as I really feel like I’m all stitched up and ready to scream, “I’m Back.”
It’s probably a bit too soon to write about the New Year, but I’m lost for positive subject matter. This blog has not been filled with humor and poetry as intended. Instead, it’s been a tough year of surgery, doctors, and pain that have taken away from the joy of travel. Yes, we did get to South America, Africa, Spain, and even Maine, my 50th state. But in between, were 10-days of hospitalization and over 90 doctor appointments. One thing led to another, so I’m hoping for a better year of health.
On the positive side, we did get a new puppy, Fosse, that seems to have extended the life of her older sister Tally, at 100 dog years and counting. My wife had a good year of staying away from doctors and finding some passion in teaching youngsters. She continues to tap dance, take the dogs to the bark park, go to the beach, play bridge, and exercise in the pool, all of the benefits of resort living. She’s also been very supportive with my recovery, doing more than her share of keeping up the house – a bundle of energy. I’m still very much in love with her. Thank You, Sweetie pie!
My grandchildren are getting taller and older, although they have recently been living on the East Coast of Florida, far from us and the need for our companionship. Our last hurrah as a family was Thanksgiving, but they will be back for Christmas. We have two new drivers in the family that have yet to make a solo trip. My days of shuttling them around are growing few.
I’ve been well educated about my aging body by Cardiologists, Physician Assistants, nurses, surgeons, Ophthalmologists, Neurologists, Urologists, rehab specialists, x-ray technicians, doctors that don’t necessarily end in “ist,” dentists, chiropractors, etc. Some are family members that have been extremely helpful in my time of need. “I don’t need no doctor,” has been my motto throughout life, until this year’s barrage. Worst of all, I had to give up my running streak of 15-years, the foundation of my health.
My muscles are now disturbingly flabbier and I’m currently about 10-pounds heavier, despite daily trips to the fitness center. Running always kept the weight off, while the winter months and holiday libations have always been a problem. I do still have a Florida tan, so I look pretty good on the outside, although rusted out on the inside, as my poem reads: (See post #1811). Unbelievably, IU football has made the College Football Playoffs!
I’ve had my share of problems, but when I look around our retirement neighborhood or stop by the hospital, I really have very little to complain about. I’ve also lost a number of high school classmates this year. Thankfully, I haven’t been sick once, despite all the time I’ve spent in the unhealthy environment of medical offices or a wife that regularly hangs out with first graders. I’m just hoping for fewer doctors in 2025!
Fosse got me up early this morning for one of her gross “goopy poopies,” likely because of the dead frog she ate last evening. Tastes like chicken, right Fosse! Tally was still in “good bed,” waiting for the sun to come up. On mornings like this I have to do two separate outings before my wife gets up to take over the responsibilities. I don’t know how she manages to sleep-in with Fosse anxiously staring at her. On occasion she’ll pick her up, so she can join her under the covers. Tally snoozes on!
My wife and Tally get up at the same time. Fosse is ready to go out again, but I make her “wait.” Tally’s business is good and firm. Once the two of us return and she hears me open the latch to come in, Fosse takes a running start and then slides down the hall on the smooth tile to greet us at the door.
Once out and about, there is absolutely nothing that Fosse misses once it lands on the floor, but at least she hasn’t tried to consume another of our TV remotes lately. Tally can’t see or hear if something drops right in front of her nose.
During dinner outside on the lanai last night, Fosse busied herself by chasing a small chameleon, “buffing” at the sandhill cranes, and sniffing out every crawling bug. Tally, on the other hands, practices what we call “petnosis,” staring longingly at us in hopes we’ll give her a bite of whatever we’re eating.
Tally usually only gets out of her bed if there’s a treat involved, while Fosse rarely sits still. Tally has to be coaxed to go outside, while Fosse can’t get enough of it. The only exception is when my wife tries to take a nap, Fosse immediately wants to cuddle. Her body heat then makes napping impossible. There is never a dull moment in our house these days. Fosse always wants to play fetch and gathers her toys around her to suggest that the games should immediately begin.
There are three times in every day when both pups want the same thing. The first is to ride on the golf cart to the dog park, where Fosse wrestles and Tally watches. The second is “yummy tummy,” when dinner is served. Fosse frantically gobbles her kibbles, as I prepare Tally’s wet and dry food combination, while tucking in the medication. There used to be a “kibble ball” for Tally’s dessert, but Fosse was too rough with the dispenser, so we now just mix it with her Cesar loaf and shut the door so Fosse can’t get to it. The third is “ham time,” that last treat before bed, a slice of turkey, not ham, these days in the interest of health. They both gather by the refrigerator in anticipation of this glorious moment.
The two dogs are very different, primarily because of their fourteen-year age gap. Fosse is just nine-months while Tally is approaching fifteen. Fosse’s role is to keep Tally young, along with us humans. I can hear Fosse down the hall, squeaking her “disco pig,” hoping that I’ll take the bait and play fetch. She also loves to tug on the rope of her “party balloon,” if she can entice me to engage her. “Mom” and “big sister” continue to play possum in our bedroom- dog differences!
The sky is an eerie color, but the storm has long passed. Once again, we were fortunate, very little damage in our area despite howling winds, blowing rain, and a tornado warning. Tally and Fosse were obviously glad it was over, as I collected three full bags on this morning’s outing. They spent some time with us as we took shelter in the master closet. My wife thought the power went off, but it was only the motion detector doing its job. Once she moved, the lights came back on.
I did get to the fitness center early in the day, but mostly we just sat around watching TV and working our devices. She got restless and started decorating for Halloween, so I hauled out the storage boxes, and put batteries in dancing Snoopy, dressed in an orange mask and skeleton costume. He’s been with us for about 25-years, a treasure we picked up at the Hallmark Store. One hand holds a fortune-telling globe that lights up, but if you grab the other hand, he begins to dance, playing his popular theme song.
I guess Snoopy is a lot like me this year. Even with fresh batteries, he doesn’t dance any more. I tried to play surgeon to see if there was a wire loose, but to no avail. We’re now two of a kind, struggling to move. I hope he isn’t in pain. The theme still plays, but there seems to be a problem where the battery pack wires run up his spine. I can easily empathize. As we get older, parts begin to malfunction. I’ve certainly had my share of that this year.
Because of the storm, my doctor’s appointment has again been delayed, but the MRI report suggests a more thorough examination into the spine. Hopefully, they can get working on an appointment since it takes several weeks to get insurance approval. In the meantime, Advil continues to ease my soreness, even the discomfort from my recent cystoscopy that revealed a need for prostate surgery. Scheduling that procedure has also been delayed because of the storm.
Dancing Snoopy only sits like I do, waiting to perform again naturally. I may need to get a replacement for him, as I continue to evolve into the bionic man. Then, maybe we can both dance again?
A Category 3 is headed our way! Batton down the hatches, Helene is coming soon! It may very well be our first hurricane while living here in Florida. We were traveling during Irma and Idalia, but our home held up. The pups were staying near here while we were gone, so at least Tally is a veteran, Fosse was yet to be born, but her doggy-parents endured the winds and rain at Tally’s side while staying at “Schnauzerville”. We’ll spend the next few days, charging phones, securing lanai & yard items, and stocking up on propane, water, and other essentials. We do not have a generator like most of our neighbors, so it could be hot and uncomfortable living for a few days. The outdoor kitchen will come in handy for food preparation.
Our house of concrete and steel is built like a fortress, with hurricane windows, and a tile roof. It held up well during Irma, and even better with Idalia that packed less punch. I will be worried about the lanai screens and surrounding cage structure. Several neighbors lost theirs during previous storms, but this entirely depends on the direction of the wind swirls. We’ll do what we can to properly prepare that may include lugging the heavy ceramic plant vases and fountain into the garage. Neighbors pitched in to do this the last time in our absence, comfortably on an Alaskan Cruise.
I understand that the noise can be deafening as the storm blows through. My son’s family, that lives nearby spent a couple days at a shelter. They did have some roof damage, that two-years later, claim payment is still being processed. I’m not sure that the property owners and insurance companies can financially withstand another devastating setback, yet people continue to flock to Florida and buy homes.
In the meantime, more storms were brewing in the stomachs and bowels of Tally and Fosse. Fosse is beginning to rival her predecessor, Tinker, as the “Poopingest Pup on the Planet.” Tally’s stomach has been growling and treats have been limited to rice with chicken stock. We had to go out and buy more Spot Shot, and I’ve hauled out the carpet shampooer on more than one occasion.
My wife also has restricted her diet with concerns about diabetes. Low-carb meals are in my future that will certainly aid in helping me lose that post-surgery flab. The scale read 199 yesterday, so progress is being maintained. Advil continues to ease the sciatica pain, as I wait for MRI results and potential treatment. I was up with the dogs in the middle of the night and again just before sunrise and was able to get around comfortably on both occasions.
The two of us went to see Train and REO Speedwagon a few weeks ago, so given the circumstances of hurricanes and diarrhea, all I can think of is the song, Riding the Storm Out!
“Ridin’ the storm out, waitin’ for the thaw out
On a full moon night in the Rocky Mountain winter
My wine bottle’s low, watching for the snow
I’ve been thinking lately of what I’m missing in the city
And I’m not missing a thing
Watchin’ the full moon crossing the range
Ridin’ the storm out, ridin’ the storm out
Ridin’ the storm out, ridin’ the storm out
Lady’s beside me, she’s there to guide me
She says that alone we’ve finally found home
The wind outside is frightening
But it’s kinder than the lightning life of the city
It’s a hard life to live but it gives back what you give
And I’m not missing a thing
Watchin’ the full moon crossing the range
Ridin’ the storm out, ridin’ the storm out
Ridin’ the storm out, ridin’ the storm out
Ridin’ the storm out, waitin’ for the fall out
On a full moon night in the Rocky Mountain winter
My wine bottle’s low, watching for the snow
I’ve been thinking lately of what I’m missing in the city
And I’m not missing a thing
Watchin’ the full moon crossing the range
Ridin’ the storm out, ridin’ the storm out
Ridin’ the storm out
Ridin’, ridin’, ridin’ the storm out”
Songwriter: Gary Richrath RIP
I’m moving on to the next milestone, only 500 posts from 3,000. I feel like Pete Rose, aiming for that next hit to earn another record. Shohei Ohtani is in a bit of a stall, throttled by Braves pitching in his quest for 50/50. Aaron Judge, on the other hand, moved out of his funk, and smashed home runs number 52 and 53. The Cubs will probably have to wait until next year, still 5-games out of the last Wild Card spot that now belongs to the Mets. However, the Braves are just a game back, with three head-to-head-matchups in Atlanta remaining in the 2024 regular season. Our neighboring park, Cool Today, just released the 2025 Braves Spring Training schedule. It would be good to see them at least make the Playoffs.
There’s a concert at the Park Saturday night, one of our favorite local bands, Dukes of Brinkley. Tonight, we’re out to dinner with Indy friends at Laishley’s in Punta Gorda and Friday night joining some neighbors at nearby Dockside. “Date Night” has therefore been moved to Saturday night, so we might be able to fit in a little live music.
I’m waiting for the refrigerator repair guy to call with a specific time, although there’s already been several frustrating cancellations. My wife is tired of running to the garage refrigerator during meal preparation. This has been an on-going hassle for several months. She’s substituting again today, so I had Dog Park duty. Once I finish writing, I’ll head to Chair Yoga and the fitness center.
My leg pain was especially bad first thing this morning but has since predictably gone away. Fosse did not help matters, running off to chase a rabbit, while I limped after. Hopefully, I will get some feedback on the cause of this sciatica with Friday’s MRI. It was in my lower back last night, making our evening walk miserable. The Dog Buggy (stroller) at least allows me some support, and Tally enjoys riding along with us rather than being left behind at home. The pain moves from my lower spine area to my upper left thigh, and into my calf, so it’s been difficult to determine the source of the pinched nerve or irritation. I’ll finally get some answers and eventually some relief. Maybe we’ll even have working kitchen refrigerator by then?
My first blog post was in September of 2016 (See Post #1), and I officially retired on December 30 – “just practicing” was the title. I was working with a therapist at the time trying to put together a plan to keep me busy. Writing was one of my ideas on the list that included books, movies, TV series, and of course running. The blog still continues, approaching the 2,500-article mark, but the running stopped in January of 2024, 8-years later following open-heart surgery. The original plan was to do one post a day, and I’ve tried to hold true to that commitment, although travel, writer’s block, just getting into the initial habit, and hospitalization have created some sizeable gaps. If I do the rough math, I should be at over 2,900 and somehow, I’ve missed nearly 400 days, well over a year!
Like everything else, where does the time go? I have written a couple of unpublished books in this time period and currently working on three more (Magic of 60, Hungry in Hungary, and Bad Boys Hall of Fame). There are excerpts mixed among these pages. I’ve adapted several of my earlier posts to compile my life’s story in a bound Storyworth publication, at the request of my family. In addition, this site includes nearly 300-poems, along with eulogies and personal adoption stories. They are all organized by category for easy reference. Sports (Old Sport Shorts) and pets (Creature Features) are my other writing passions.
A lot of this is just personal therapy, recounting the daily frustrations that everyone experiences. Today, for example, I’m waiting for the refrigerator repairman and troubleshooting my outdoor landscaping. Our schnauzer Tally waits by my side, wanting to go to the dog park. Her sister, Fosse, has claimed the sought-after chair, once mine, across from my desk. We’ll all soon jump in the golf cart, and they’ll join their friends for a romp on the grass, while I observe from the bench. There are towels tumbling in the washer, and my wife is headed to school for the day. We’ll have an informal “Date Night” at Pioneer Pizza, trying out another new restaurant as is the tradition. Tomorrow night, we’ll go to Michael’s On East in nearby Sarasota to use some gift cards. I suggested it because my local baseball card shop, Blue Breaks, has added a store there and I want to stop by for the Grand Opening. If she’ll tolerate an hour there, we’ll enjoy some nice steaks afterwards. On Sunday, I have a vendor table at their original Venice store to hopefully sell or at least trade some of my baseball cards, another retirement hobby. The owners are nice British family with a small business that I like to support. Selling allows me to buy more from them. As always, I appreciate your reading this nonsense as I “Write On…Again and Again!”
