Category: CREATURE FEATURES (Page 29 of 38)

Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My! (Plus dogs and cats)

Retirement is not without Hassles: Happy Anniversary #502

April 20, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

Sunshine, sandy beaches, and blue skies. We’re no longer in Portland, Toto! “They said California is the place we aught to be… to celebrate our Seventeenth Anniversary”…plus 7,061 days of being together. I arrived at our Le Merigot J.W. Marriott on Hotel on the Santa Monica beachfront, while my wife was finishing up some business calls. I did the unpacking and ordered our first tray of traditional chocolate covered strawberries. We were married at 12:30 p.m. in the East Chapel at the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas in 2001, while attending industry meetings of the National Association of Broadcasters (NAB). It was far from our dream of a destination wedding, but circumstances called for compromise.

The ceremony was beautiful and we were the only couple in attendance, but a jackpot on the way to our vows nearly derailed these plans. It was long before the time when winnings were digitally added and the sound of quarters rattling in the metal collection tray was simulated. We had to patiently wait for each quarter to fall, with the time we set aside to get dressed for the ceremony rapidly ticking away. Suddenly, the flow of coins stopped and a red light at the top of the machine started to flash. The attendants were not responding quickly enough to the alarms calling for them to refill the machine so that the remainder of the jackpot could be paid. It took seemingly forever to finally get our money, and we rushed back to our room to get ready, barely “getting to the church on time.”

My wife was pleasantly surprised at how classy our ceremony turned out to be, especially after watching a video years prior of my first wife and I being remarried by a fake Elvis comedian. A photographer then took photos of the two of us in the beautiful Bellagio rose gardens and conservatory. The night before our wedding planner had arranged for a limo to take us to the courthouse to get our marriage licence. We dined at Delmonico’s in the Venetian, where a cake was presented with a Limoges bride and groom topper. I pulled out a silver serving knife from my tux pocket to finish off the presentation. Finally, we enjoyed a Bellagio Honeymoon Suite where we called friends and family to spread the news of our union.

The next day we had to move all of our flowers and luggage to a standard room and a couple of nights later to the less impressive Rio, more in-line with the company convention budget. Before we knew it, the glow of being newly weds was behind us and we were suddenly back at work. Each night after the wedding seemed like a giant step down to reality that culminated with a tearful parting. One night a mutual boss took us to Michael’s at the Barbary Coast for an elaborate celebratory dinner, and I stole one of their pink embroidered napkins as a souvenir (it had my name on it!) After four days together, she caught a plane back to Indianapolis, and I started attending business meetings, so there was no time for a fantasy Vegas Honeymoon – in fact, there really wasn’t one at all. We justify this decision by reminding others that the honeymoon never ends if you don’t have one.

We’re still on that honeymoon here in Santa Monica and celebrating tonight with a romantic, sunset dinner at The Lobster, on Route 66 overlooking the Pier. It seemed an appropriate spot for the sunset, more chocolate covered strawberries, and a martini or two. We’ve already exchanged gifts so I will simply read this poem as a toast to seventeen years:

Sweet Seventeen

We’ve now been married,
For seventeen years.
And still in love,
Despite any fears.

We fondly dreamed,
Of a beach ceremony.
A romantic location.
For vows of matrimony.

It became complicated,
To include our kids.
So our best laid plans,
Hit the skids.

Vegas could work,
Meetings to attend.
An exotic place?
We could pretend.

A slot machine,
Nearly got in the way.
But it was truly,
A special day.

We said “I Do,”
At half past noon.
With little time together,
For a Vegas Honeymoon.

The East Chapel ours,
At the Bellagio.
The Rose Garden,
Took on our glow.

The fountains danced,
As I kissed my bride.
The night before,
Was our limo ride.

Delmonico dinner,
A cake to cut.
Strawberries dipped,
In milk chocolate.

The NAB Convention,
A manager perk.
A Honeymoon suite,
Then back to work.

We celebrate our love,
Happy Anniversary, dear.
On Route Sixty Six,
Lobster near the Pier.

Santa Monica Boulevard,
We’ll have some fun.
Enjoy the pool,
And get some sun.

Reminisce about,
How it all began.
Steal a kiss,
Whenever I can.

Spend some time,
With the woman I adore.
Snuggle in the sunset,
On the Pacific Shore.

Hundreds of poems,
Yet the words I can’t find.
To express how often,
You’re on my mind.

A greater love,
I can’t envision.
To marry you,
My best decision.

Jewels for you,
From gorgeous Santorini.
A toast to our love,
With this triple-x martini.

4/20
Day 7061

Retirement is not without Hassles: Palm #501

April 20, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

The Royal Palm trees are magnificent here in Beverly Hills. On my run this morning, I found Palm Street, a neighborhood of mini-mansions with the distinctive touch of beautiful, towering royal palms lining each side of the street. In fact, I counted 126 of the three-foot diameter giants on each side, and the name of the street appropriately changed once they finally ended. What was remarkable to me was that they all appeared to be planted about the same time and that all were still in place like sentinels guarding each finely manicured yard. Little yard signs were a prominent fixture, reading, “It’s your Doo-ty…Pick It Up!” If Tinker, the Poopingest Pup on the Planet, was here with me on this trip I would be busy adhering to this request. Thankfully, my dog “dooties” are minimal when we travel, a wide deviation from the daily routine as a home body. Home or away, the running streak is a constant, standing at exactly 3400 days.

I’ve decided to make my posts a little more visual going forward, so I plan to add a few more photos. This is the first time I’ve included two on a single post. I still feel like I’m a pen pal to an invisible friend, but mostly I’m just satisfying a need to write. You never know, these words (and now pictures) may live on long after I’m gone. If I should go to heaven, if there truly is one, I should at least have access to the cloud they are now saved on. Anne Frank did not have that advantage when she was constructing her diary on paper. I mention this because I find her to be a reoccurring influence on my writing. I finally got to see the Anne Frank exhibit at the Museum of Tolerance today. It was closed for the Jewish Holidays when I visited Los Angeles last fall. (See Post #299 and #300), so I made a point to go. When I went to buy a senior admission ticket, the woman behind the counter told me it was closed. I objected, explaining that I was from out of town and could not get in the last time. She explained that there were construction odors, but finally sold me a ticket. I thanked her and then countered by joking that I could “tolerate” the smell.

I have now visited the Anne Frank Haus in Amsterdam, read Diary of a Young Girl, and spent about an hour at this exhibit. I’m struck by the memories of her relatives, who were shocked by the maturity that were reflected in the words of this young teenage girl. They did not know her at all until they read her diary. She was better able to express her feelings thorough the imaginary diary friend Kitty than she was to her real life family and friends. Sometimes our words are more powerful than our voice, and I continue to find satisfaction in reflecting on my experiences through this blog. Every once and a while, I find a gold nugget and maybe you will too! Anne wanted to escape from her isolated life as a Nazi prisoner and grow up to be a writer, hoping that her words would live on forever. To paraphrase, she wanted to live-on after death through her words. This is the immortality that every writer seeks. Will I eventually be worthy of such an achievement? Thanks, Anne, for the inspiration.

Creature Features: Eggbert #493

April 13, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

When we did allergy tests on our itchy Schnoodle Tinker many years ago, the findings included egg, flies, wheat, and various grasses. She would never avoid any type of food but you can clearly tell that she often does not like the texture of grass under her sensitive paws. If it wasn’t the uncomfortable dry thick grass of Austin, it’s especially not the lush wet green carpet of Portland. She will show her discontent by sometimes hopping like it’s a bed of hot coals or tread softly like a princess in a mine field. It’s interesting that once she’s decided to do her business she will leave the preferred sidewalk path and gravitate towards a grassy patch, wandering back and forth until she finally finds the perfect spot. She’ll poop in the middle of the grassy area but pee only on the edge, sometimes with her front paws on the sidewalk, asphalt, or dirt surface. I will watch in amazement (and sometimes frustration) for what sometimes seems like forever until she eventually gets to the right spot. It may very well be that Tinker is getting her revenge on the very grass that makes her itch by taunting and torturing it on where exactly she is going to leave her mark. It certainly pains me to watch her do this endless dance.

We’ve put a lot of money and effort into trying to keep her itchy skin comfortable, including special diets, medication, and pampering. Pet.Vet.Debt. Our younger schnauzer Tally rarely goes in the grass, preferring a patch of ivy, myrtle, or other ground cover. We used to call her “Myrtle” when we lived in Austin because she could never pass a deep green sea of it without disappearing below the leafy surface to do her business in private. It was often the only green you saw in the Texas heat, and Tally could always find it with her radar-like instincts. With our home now in a hilly Portland, Oregon neighborhood, she likes to climb the steep incline of ground cover that they’ve planted across our street to prevent erosion. She’ll stand at the top where the homes are situated looking down on Tinker, who rarely subjects her precious paws to the purple flowering vines that flourish in the damp shade. As a result, Tinker will only go on the flat, grassy side of our street, while Tally will only toilet on the hilly side, so I have to make sure to cross our lane when walking them. Sometimes I’ll be in the middle of the street with one dog leash stretched to the flat side and the other uncoiled to the hilly side. Why does the dog walker cross the road?

As my wife gets ready to go to work each morning, she makes us each an egg to start the day. Tinker has learned that we will not give her a bite due to her long-standing allergy, so she retreats to my dark office and pouts during breakfast. We try to discreetly give Tally a couple of small bites of egg since she is rarely as enthusiastic about any other kind of food. Tinker apparently has caught us showing favoritism, when we’re really just trying to avoid the itch. She’s given up hanging around the breakfast table and shows her frustration by turning her back on us. We now call Tally, “Eggbert,” because of her love for eggs, and this additional attention probably further exasperates Tinker.

Tally likes her new name, and waits patiently by our feet for her share each morning. For her, it’s the greatest thing since “Ham Time.” (See Post #133). Historically, Egbert or Ecgbriht was king of the West Saxons in the years 802-839, and a male given name meaning “bright sword.” Tally feels like a king or a queen when she is treated special at the expense of Tinker, and the name “Eggbert” gives her special powers. Tinker, on the other hand, feels like we’ve stabbed her with a “sword” when we’re only trying to protect her. Sometimes dogs just don’t understand!

Retirement is not without Hassles: Where’s the Beef? #491

April 11, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

Unlike yesterday that was filled with errands, today will be relatively quiet. After my car narrowly missed being sideswiped by an unaware driver pulling out of a parking spot, it made me wonder why I even venture out sometimes. Commuting by car used to be an unpleasant daily adventure, but in retirement I now only drive a couple of days each week. It makes a big difference, as my tolerance and patience levels have noticeably deteriorated. What was once a necessity is now an inconvenience, as a round-trip to the doggy spa that normally takes 40 minutes stretched into an hour-and-a-half, with a close call. With the morning drop-off trip, I was able to leave after the rush hour, but I was unable to avoid it during the afternoon pick-up. On the other hand, the dogs are always happy to go for a ride. In the process, I took a piece of our luggage in to be repaired, stocked up on bottled water, went to the post office, and cleaned out my car.

I usually only enjoy driving with the top down, but the wet Portland weather isn’t usually very cooperative. I’ve had a couple of damp morning runs this week and the dogs have been limited to short walks, so they were exhausted from their monthly hair-cut and play-day outing. In their absence, I got some laundry and vacuuming done. Also Tally, our youngest Schnauzer, is afraid of the Roomba and barks incessantly when it runs, so I let it do its duty without her interference. Speaking of domestic responsibilities, today I’m about to start an Italian Beef concoction in the slow cooker since we have a friend driving in from the coast to stay the night for an early morning flight. We’ll undoubtedly go to the Home Field Grill for Happy Hour before I serve the sandwiches and tater tots. My wife didn’t sleep well again last night, so she will need the cooking break in lieu of a nap.

To most, these last couple of days being a home body probably sounds boring and uneventful. I actually enjoy it, plus it gave me time to follow-up on some hassles that we experienced last month. I expressed my dissatisfaction to both KLM/Delta airlines and Viking for various issues that affected our travel experience, hoping for some compensation. In other words, I have a “Beef “- and it’s not Italian. I’m typically not one to complain, but it’s the only job I have right now, and maybe I can earn some travel credits to supplement my Social Security and Pension income. You never know until you ask!

Retirement is not without Hassles: Sunday #488

April 8, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

I thought it was Sunday, but there isn’t even a hint of sunshine. It’s just like any other gray day to a retiree like me. I did my three mile run this morning on the treadmill while I finished up Red Alert by James Patterson and Marshall Karp. The dogs were reluctant to go outside in the rain, but their bladders prevailed. Tally ran directly across the street dodging raindrops to do her business. Tinker, on the other hand, could not find a proper place to pee, and wandered aimlessly through the wet grass for what seemed like an hour. As I sit here drinking a Diet Coke and talking to my wife, we’re thinking about another visit to Cracker Barrel for what would be my third time this week. These are the things that make me a certified “creature of habit.”

There is a certain sense of peace in being a home body, while only venturing out to familiar sites. Buffalo Wild Wings to end each week is a good example. Movie night, cooking night, and date night help distinguish the days of the week. A different movie, recipe, and restaurant are the only decisions that need to be made when you’re in the routine of being home. It’s not boring at all considering the amount of traveling that we do. Nearly one week of every month is spent away from home, a percentage that’s been even higher so far this year. Marriott Hotels are our home away from home, utilizing everything from the lower end Fairfield Inn properties to the high-end JW Marriott and their world class resort hotels. However, there’s no place like home.

Tomorrow starts my wife’s work week – another Monday. Sunday, for me, was always the transition day, preparing for the job while struggling to preserve the weekend. I was never able to look at Sunday as “Funday” because of what always loomed ahead. As a result, the weekend hours began to shrink and pass by too quickly. The week seemed to skip from Friday to Monday to the point where I felt that I was always working, Also, back in the days of mowing, trimming, edging, and raking, weekends were nothing but a labor extension of the work week. Condo life eventually put an end to those responsibilities. My wife misses her garden, while I certainly don’t miss those yard work and home maintenance days.

We ended up going to Biscuits for breakfast, our favorite haunt prior to the recent two Cracker Barrel location openings. Regardless, a hearty breakfast at either location usually leads to a nap. The Cubs, The Masters, and I.U. baseball might allow me to plow through the afternoon. In addition, my wife wants us to watch Pitch Perfect 3. By the way, Game Night was a very entertaining movie last night. It was a Friday Night Lights reunion of coach Kyle Chandler and back-up quarterback, Jesse Plemons, one of my favorite TV series. I often had dinner with the two of them during the filming of the show while we lived in Austin. They were both very good about mixing with the crew and lowly show extras like myself.

It should be a relatively quiet week. There will be no skiing, Broadway musicals, or Leadership breakfasts. The dogs get to go to the spa and we might go to the Nike Hoop Summit on Friday night. It’s supposed to be spring-like weather tomorrow and then return to cool temperatures. The dogs were shorted their walk/run today, and Tinker responded with a fowl case of Tinkerrhea on the kitchen floor. She is the “Poopingest Pup on the Planet,” and after last night’s storms and the need for her Thunder Shirt was unable to control her output. (See Posts #370 and #371). I somehow managed to sleep through the high winds and heavy rain, exhausted after another tough day of retirement. What day is it again?

Retirement is not without Hassles: Greek to Me #477

March 27, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

Time is passing quickly on our Mediterranean cruise, as we’ve reached the Greek Islands of Santorini. Yesterday was disappointing with plans canceled to see Olympia, but we woke up this morning to clear skies and warmer temperatures. I only ran a mile this morning, but still managed to get in over 17,000 steps on the streets of Santorini and much of those were actual stair-steps. As we were approaching the islands at sunrise, I could see them at a distance, initially thinking it was snow on top of the soaring cliffs ahead. Instead, it was the cluster of white-washed homes against the dark, volcanic pumice rock that they are built on. Many of these homes are actual caves that we once used for storage but now serve as hotels that can charge as much as 10,000 Euros a night in the tourist-packed summer season. There are only 15,000 residents on this series of islands, but the numbers swell as the temperatures rise, playing host to 2 million visitors each year.

We started our day on the ship’s “gangway,” thinking of pirates and walking the gangplank in shark-infested waters. Instead, it provided passage to our “tender,” a boat that delivered us safely from ship to shore. These new terms were all Greek to me. Once on land, as bus escorted us to the top via a zig-zagging, narrow road with breathtaking views of our shrinking ship in the blue waters below. We first visited the towns of Oia and Fira and learned that the iconic blue-painted domes that contrast sharply with the white houses are churches, and there are over 600 serving these communities. That’s 25 people per church provided that everyone in town attends. All of these churches and their associated religious monuments are obviously popular tourist destinations, or they could never make ends meet. There are both Orthodox and Catholic churches, basilica and Byzantine cross types. It’s all Greek to Me.

As with the other Mediterranean islands, there were lots of stray cats, some of them sunning on the white reflective roofs of the cave homes. No hot tin roofs here! There was also at least one dog who left a deposit on the main retail street. Unfortunately, I stepped in it! The only other animals I saw were the donkeys who primarily haul construction materials and carry tourists on their backs up the step hills. Their deposits are much easier to see. Greek poop – please scoop!

We enjoyed the sweet Greek wine called Vinsanto in a local tasting room that overlooked the distant sea, had an authentic Greek buffet lunch in Pyrgo while entertained by musicians & dancers, and did some serious jewelry shopping. Opa – please pass the Windex! More Greek to me. A Tram dropped us gently down the cliffs to the port, with the other option being a donkey ride, and then it was a quick tender back to the ship. More Greek tomorrow in Athens after an Italian dinner tonight in Manfredi’s, another exclusive onboard specialty restaurant. Tomorrow will be our final stop, as I struggle with a nasty cold.

Retirement is not without Hassles: Travel Madness #462

March 16, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

Travel Madness is finally here. Our new luggage just arrived last evening, so we’ll be doing some last minute crammin’ and jammin’ this morning. We’ll probably have to pay for that third suitcase, plus a carry-on. The ten hour flight starts this afternoon, and when we touch down in Amsterdam it will be St. Patrick’s Day morning. We’ll head immediately to the Green Light District, on any other day Red, before our Anne Frank House tour. While we’re in the air, the NCAA basketball tournament will conclude its first round of action without me. With yesterday’s Leadership Meeting, I did watch some of the games, but found I have relatively little interest. In fact, there’s a sense of bitterness that my team isn’t playing again this year. It’s a good time to leave the country.

My wife had an appointment this morning and when she gets back home we’ll take the dogs on a final walk/run. As always, we’ll have a sitter staying at the house to watch them. They’re already suspicious, watching us scramble about making last minute preparations. Tinker, in particular, gives us the “hairy eyeball” of resentment. I’m glad she can’t talk (see Post #448), because her body language says enough. Tally, on the other hand, will be excited for the extra walks she’ll get from the youthful sitter.

When we get back, I’m planning another ski trip to Mt. Hood and will look forward to our 17th wedding anniversary in Santa Monica, one last stop on Route 66 this birthday year. (See Post #235). It will take a few weeks of “homebody” routine to recover from the next few weeks of Travel Madness. Tight schedules, confined quarters, heavy spending, and potential seasickness loom ahead. “There’s no place like home,” but seeing the world is a retirement requirement.

Diary of an Adoptee: Refused #459

March 12, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

I had good news and bad news today on the adoption front. My certified letter to Edna F. Davidson in Seymour, who I suspected to be my birth mother was refused delivery. (See Post #446). It is disappointing news, especially considering that there has been no response from my initial certified letter to her son. (See Post #393). The delivery of that letter was at least accepted and signed for by her namesake, Jerry Poole. Today’s rejection could mean one of two things: First, that she have since moved from the White Pages address listed for her; Or, that she and her son decided that it was not in their best interest to involve me in their family. They could be suspicious of a scam, she might be in poor health or have memory problems. Then again, I could be totally on the wrong track – but I doubt it. The mystery continues.

The initial documents on my birth mother came via a connection that I made through the website 23andme (Post #410). I had provided a DNA sample, hoping to discover elements of my genetic background. The results provided a link with a potential third cousin who believed he was related to my “second family.” Today, at the same time I received this rejection notification, he discovered a genetic link to the Bannister family. This came about as a result of an additional DNA test that he sent to another company. I did a similar thing several weeks ago, submitting a sample to ancestry.com. I did this second test after discovering that a nephew of my birth mother was maintaining the Banister (or Bannister) family tree through this well respected genealogical web service. I believe that he was indirectly suggesting that I provide genetic proof of alignment with his family. Hopefully, our DNA will line up, and he will help introduce me to his aunt and my birth mother. It will be another few weeks before I can hopefully establish this important bridge of credibility. In the meantime, I will be out of the country and focused on travel rather than adoption.

Retirement is not without Hassles: Straws #458

March 12, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

It was a gorgeous day of skiing. Obviously, several people took the day off to enjoy the rare sunshine at this time of year, but we still essentially had the slopes to ourselves. In comparison, Steamboat last month was cold and crowded, while the runs were sometimes too long for my aging legs. After all, I’m apparently only 9 years away from skiing free, and was able to get an all day Senior pass for $59, half the price of Colorado. The two-mile length of our run down the mountain today was enough to create a pleasant burn in my quads, not the unbearable, tired feeling of the longer, steeper, higher-altitude courses at Steamboat. It made me want to go back for more, as we made advance plans for next month.

This week’s Leadership Meeting will take place a day earlier and will involve the biggest day of college basketball all year long. Unfortunately, I really don’t have a horse in this year’s race, so it’s more sadness than Madness, for me. It’s appropriate that we’ll be out of the country, and so this will not be the focus of March. We’ll be crusin’ and boozin’ and my team won’t be losin’! Instead, my Indiana Hoosiers will be preparing for next year. Hopefully, Purdue, Butler, or even Notre Dame will represent my home state’s legendary reputation for basketball.

I’m learning to play “Stand By Me” on the ukulele, thanks to the help of a friend. My fingers get sore making the chord transitions, so it will take some practice time to build-up some calluses. The burn marks on my hands from cooking dinner last week have evolved into ugly, red scabs. My poor, multi-fingered appendages have taken a lot of abuse in retirement, so far. They were once rough & tough from shovel labor, shaking hands, and softball. Similarly, my poor feet are sore and my toe nails black from skiing, consequently I will need some luxury cruise pampering.

Our seventeen year-old cat, Frankie, has a urinary infection, so I will be back at the vet tomorrow. Pet.Vet. Debt. (See Post #351). Even our perfectly health schnauzer pup, Tally, needed eye drops for an infection last week. Pet expenses continue to mount, including the $1000 that we’ll need to pay a house/pet sitter while we’re away from home next week. We’ve begun to call Tally by the nickname, “Egbert,” since she loves to have a bite of our morning egg breakfast. Tinker, her older sister, is allergic to egg, so we have to be deceptive in the delivery. Tinker knows! Both dogs go to the groomer tomorrow to “get the stink off.” They accompanied us to wine country yesterday, glad to spend the day out of the house.

With all these pet duties tomorrow, I will have little time for writing. I need to start packing for our 15-day trip, and want to read The Diary of a Young Girl before our visit to the Anne Frank house in Amsterdam. My wife had nightmares from reading it, so it’s been tough for her to digest. I’m bored with my current book, All-American Murder, by James Patterson. It’s not one of his better works, but non-fiction rather than his imaginative specialty. I was also disappointed with the movie, Wrinkle in Time, from a childhood book that was my wife’s favorite. It was really not about time travel as I originally posted. (See #455). It had too much of Oprah’s ego invested, however some movie-goers actually clapped.

I’ve been really good about limiting my use of straws. My friend has a blog, www.offthecoast.net. He is certified as a Master Recycler, and involved with organizations like www.portland.surfrider.org. I now always carry with me in my car a zip-lock bag so I can reuse the straw I get at regular McDonald’s visits for a Diet Coke. It’s a small gesture on my part to support his efforts to protect our environment and reinforce an anti-straw campaign by my former employer KINK Radio. I have become sooooooo… Portland!

Retirement is not without Hassles: By The Numbers #457

March 11, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

I just got done posting both my longest and shortest blog posts these past few days. Over the next few weeks, with our travel schedule, it will be tough to keep up the daily pace. After doing this for a year, I’m due for another blog-cation. The last one I took was while I was running the Hood to Coast relay (Post #230) and was stuck in a van for a few days. In this occasion, I’ll be on a Mediterranean cruise ship, with unlimited access to alcohol. I’ll see the sites of Amsterdam, Venus, Croatia, and Greece along the way, and try to take the time to report on my journey. We were in wine country today, enjoying the sunshine, and I’ll be back on the ski slopes tomorrow, as my wife anticipates her first two-week vacation from work ever.

As I continue to reflect on my past, I thought it might be interesting to look at my life from a numbers standpoint:

0. Number of calories in a Diet Coke.

1. loving wife of 17 years; sister; junior high attended; 43 year-old son; 97 year-old mother-in-law.

2. grade schools attended; marriages; high school buildings attended; step-daughters; houses lived-in as a child

3. college campuses enrolled; grand kids; cats lived with.

4. World Series attended (Cubs win!); strings on a ukulele.

5. I.U. NCAA basketball championships

6. pet dogs loved;

7. homes owned.

8. days until our Mediterranean cruise; Tally and Maddie’s current age.

9. ladies dancing (Limoges 12 days of Christmas collection); current Trail Blazer’s win streak.

10. Sherm Lollar’s uniform number (my lucky number)

11. cities lived-in. Gavyn’s age.

12. day of the current month.

13. cars owned.

14. apartments rented; Tinker’s current age.

16. dollars currently in my wallet.

17, days until baseball opening day; Frankie’s current age.

18. Payton Manning’s uniform number with the Colts.

20. employers who hired me; days left this month.

23. hours in a day (with time change).

24. each of our pup’s weight on the vet’s scale.

26. different jobs worked.

26.2. miles in the 1979 Detroit Marathon completed.

31. Reggie Miller’s uniform number with the Pacers.

32. games won in 1976 I.U. undefeated season (32-0).

34. Walter Payton’s uniform number with the Bears.

61. My younger wife’s current age.

66. years lived.

68. teams in this year’s NCAA basketball tournament.

72. My height in inches before Senior shrinkage.

88. sit-ups and push-ups done each day.

93. Age that both my parent’s lived.

100. days until my wife’s birthday.

146. Broadway shows attended with my wife (Post #454).

197. my weight today.

229. months together with my wife.

287. shopping days until Christmas.

294. days left this year.

436. days retired.

1273. different restaurants dined with my wife (date nights).

3361. consecutive days of running.

7,022. Days together with my wife.