Category: OLD SPORT SHORTS (Page 54 of 68)

An old guy’s perspective on all sports

Diary of an Adoptee: Mother’s Day #526

May 13, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

Today is Mother’s Day, and I bought my wife a silly “I’m a Cool Mom” t-shirt at last night’s Mean Girls performance on Broadway. With two grown daughters, she certainly deserves much more, but I’ll leave that up to them. I’m not her mom, nor the father of her children, but she is a remarkable woman, having raised her kids as a single, working mom. By the same token, I hope my son remembers to acknowledge the love for his special mom. My wife will call her 96-year old mom tonight, but we won’t see her again for a few months. We sent her flowers from Hawaii, and maybe the Cubs will win today for one of their oldest and biggest supporters.

My mom passed away a few years ago and I think of her often. She was another special woman in my life, having adopted me at birth and then raised me as her own. I Love You, Mom and Dad. All those years together I also knew that there were two unknowns who initially gave me life, and out of loyalty waited to pursue their identities. However, there were other people in my life who strongly felt that I shouldn’t wait. My adopted sister, for example, included her birth mother in her marriage, that I thought was a little awkward for our adopted parents. She saw it as her right to know and easily connected with a second family, while I was perfectly content with one. By the same token, a friend of mine became more curious about my birth mother than I was thirty years ago. Despite the fact that adoption records in Indiana were sealed, she used her media credentials to access those files and give me the name Edna Faye Bannister along with an address.

Yes, I was curious and took this friendly lead and made some inquiries, but my heart was not into it. It was still with the two people who made me who I am, rather than the two who gave me life. In retrospect, I was also looking for a Bannister with two n’s and a person who has gone by two other last names, so I never found her until just recently. There were detours along the way, including a lead from the wrong state, an address that was only the adoption agency, and other information that turned out to be inaccurate. The adoption agency gave me general data on the birth parents like ages, hair color, interests, and siblings. All this ever led to were fantasies about what life might have been like if circumstances had been different?

Ultimately, I realized that I was probably better off with the adoptive family. My birth mother was only 18 years ago and had not yet graduated from high school The father was two years older and a Marine, as was outlined on the descriptions that the adoption agency provided. Their relationship apparently didn’t last. Once both of my adopted parents had died, I was encouraged by another friend to take a DNA test. The results led to a distant relative connection, who was also a professional genealogist. He sent me some historical birth and census records that matched up exactly with the seven brothers and sisters along with their age differences, from the initial adoption agency description. Because it was such a large family and included twins, there was little doubt that I had found her, and she was still alive, with an 85th birthday about to happen. Over the past six months, as described in the other other entries in this blog (See Diary of an Adoptee entries), I was able to connect with her through her family. In the process, I probably embarrassed her by exposing this secret of my existence to others. Apparently, she is not interested in any direct communication or contact with me.

I will respect her decision, as I continue to seek photos and information on her life through other sources. In a way, I’m a bit disappointed that she wants to remain disconnected, but in another way it’s a relief to not have the responsibility of knowing her. Obviously, what is important to me is not as important for her. Granted, I do not know her state of health or the circumstances of her relationship with the Marine. It could have been rape, the nature of their break-up, or it might have been a one night stand that makes her want to remain distant? Memories of me perhaps are not pleasant, yet she did name her first legitimate son Jerry Lee, the very same name she had them put on my birth certificate. Regardless of the how’s and why’s of my conception, I am just grateful that there wasn’t the decision to abort, allowing me to live a full life. As a result, I am thankful to the loving couple that raised me, as well to the mystery pair that made me.

Today I only have one living mother, despite the fact that we’ve never had a relationship. It’s also the very first Mother’s Day that I actually know where she lives, in addition to being alive and safe. I would still like to know something about the father, but only my birth mother and maybe her year-older sister are left to share that knowledge. I may be eventually able to find out through DNA comparisons, but I’ve found that not everyone who shares DNA is willing to respond to my inquiries. I would just like to say “Happy Mothers Day” to this stranger that gave me a start in life, and to let her know that she made the best possible decisions in giving me up for adoption. Fortunately, I met the nicest people who gave me everything I needed to succeed. Finally, it’s the best day to acknowledge that the two mothers in my life who have never met, gave this love story a happy ending, since any new chapters are unlikely to be written.

Retirement is not without Hassles: Aloe #522

May 8, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

Another day in retirement paradise, but is there enough aloe to soothe my burning skin? I feel like I’m picking up the Hawaiian language, as words like macadamia, mahalo, pineapple, hibiscus, luau, hula, hang loose, and aloha now roll easily off my tongue. Considering all the sunscreens and lotions I have applied, maybe aloha is actually spelled aloe-ha. Ha. When I think about it, I’m standing on a volcanic island where not far below the surface is 2,000 degree molten lava, combined with a blistering sun above. No wonder I was soaked in sweat following my 5k run this morning. It felt good to jump in the pool once I had reserved our lounge chairs that would allow us to lie in the sun like the giant sea turtles on the nearby craggy shoreline.

The heat was not as bad as yesterday. I found a path that had some shade and a refreshing breeze. I was also entertained by a herd of wild goats, “the feel good island music station,” and a row of what I believe to be sun-bleached banyan trees. The gnarled branches were reminiscent of how my muscles felt this morning, as I continued to procrastinate in taking that first step forward. My stomach was also a bit upset after a combination of beer, white wine, red wine, martinis, and rich island food. In fact, the glassware surrounding my dinner plate was lined-up like a crystal xylophone. After our dinner at Brown’s Beach House, I knew that I would pay the price on this morning’s run, but instead it was rather pleasant. I took several wrong paths yesterday, including a dead-end archaeological trail through a field of black pumice and the black asphalt hotel parking lot. I’m now in the process of cooling off with a refreshing Diet Coke as I write these words. The only draw-back of Marriott Hotels is that they only serve Pepsi products. At least the Fairmont has my brand even though it’s at twice the price.

I promised my wife a birthday gift, even though it’s more than a month away. She was probably going to buy herself some jewelry anyway, so at least my purchase will “kill two stones with one bird.” She initially wanted a chocolate pearl ring to match her earrings that we purchased on another island trip, but quickly got distracted by a glitzy band of colorful sapphire stones. It’s more than twice the budget I planned to spend, but I’ve got to distract her from dwelling on my “kept-man” status that is a key element in my current retirement plan. Plus, she deserves it for letting me tag along on her business trips. Next week we travel from the Big Pineapple to the Big Apple for more meetings.

I’m finishing up Veeck as in Wreck, my second book about the controversial baseball team owner from Chicago. There has to be a little bit of baseball in every trip I take, so it seemed like an appropriate beach book. I left the hot sun to watch the Cubs continue to score runs against the Marlins, something they failed to do against the rival Cardinals. Kerry Wood sang “take me out to the ballpark,” to commemorate his historic 20 strike-out game twenty years ago. I have a framed picture of that record-tying performance on my home office wall. Tonight is the convention luau finale before our six-hour flight home tomorrow. Before I put on the customary Hawaiian shirt and begin to shake some hands, I will be slathering my body in aloe-ha lotion to get some of the red out.

Old Sport Shorts: The Thrill is Gone #519

May 6, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

A 6-hour airplane ride to Hawaii is a great way to get some writing done. There’s only so much you can do stuck in a seat for that long. Wi-fi is weak over the ocean, so I can’t even monitor the Cubs at Cardinals series today. Last night’s opener was a disappointment, as has been the start of the season in general. Today, Kolten Wong hit a game winning homer against Brandon Morrow in the 10th, causing me to further question his ability as the Cubs new closer. Other than a four-game sweep of the Brewers, the Cubbies have essentially played .500 baseball, unworthy of a team with that much talent. Last season’s World Series hangover somehow continues to linger, as the “W” flag fails to wave over Wrigley Field.

The Cubs starting rotation has shown little promise, other than stingily allowing the then Division leading Brew Crew only one earned run and eleven hits in four games. I thought it was a renaissance, but they only managed a five-game winning streak. The Rockies took the next two games and St. Louis handed out the third straight loss last night and the fourth today. Yu Darvish has been the weakest link, showing the same vulnerability that lost the Dodgers last year’s World Series. Only Kyle Schwarber has shown improvement in an offensive lineup that hasn’t changed much from last year. Thankfully, it’s a long season.

My other Chicago baseball favorite, the White Sox, have been even worse coming out of the blocks. My man Yoan Moncada #10 has shown some promise, but the organization continues to remain a cellar-dweller. There were not heavy expectations this year, as fans like me start to already look to next year. Attendance at Guaranteed Rate continues to deteriorate along with their place in the standings.

For me, there hasn’t been much to root for in the Wide World of Sports. The Trailblazers lost in four and the Pacers found LeBron to be too much. The Timbers no longer have an Indiana University connection, and I’m afraid that despite the city’s optimism and money, Major League Baseball will probably not find its way here. For a while, it was College Baseball that struck my fancy. Oregon State continues to perform at the top of the charts, but my alma mater I.U. has fallen to the middle of the low- ranked BIG conference, after recently peaking at #10 in the nation. Tiger’s return to golf has been relatively uneventful, and the NFL draft sparked little interest. You may have also noticed that I skipped right over College Football. I honestly seem to have lost interest and enthusiasm around my favorite ball-hobbies. In the words of B.B. King, “The Thrill is Gone.”

If there was one positive this past week, it’s been coach Archie Miller and Indiana University basketball recruiting. A new potential savior, Romeo Langford has put the Hoosiers back in the spotlight, if even just for a year. My expectations may be too high for a kid to make an impact in such a short period of time, but it’s renewed my faith in the program. A 6’10” graduate-transfer big man, and perhaps the return of leading-scorer Juwan Morgan, after he finished dipping his toe in the NBA pool, could signify a resurgence. The bad news is that I may have to wallow through six more months of sports mediocrity before I catch the Fever again. By the way, how are they doing?

Retirement is not without Hassles: Venus #516

May 4, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 1 Comment

As much as I insist that every day is the same in retirement, Friday still seems to stand out as the best. It may eventually lose its special status once my wife joins me in retirement and there’s no longer a reminder that it’s a workday for everyone else. However, until then, it will continue to signify the end of weekly labor and the beginning of the weekend. Plus, everyone seems to be in a better mood on Fridays.

As the Dutch group, Shocking Blue, sang back in 1970, “She’s got it, Yeah baby, she’s got it, Well, I’m your Venus, I’m your fire, At your desire.” The name Friday means the “day of Frige,” associating the Old English goddess Frigg with the Roman goddess of love, Venus. In Latin it translates to “day of Venus.” Workers in the United Kingdom and Australia refer to it as POETS day – “Piss Off Early Tomorrow’s Saturday.” It makes me think of Detective Sergeant “Joe” Friday on Dragnet, Friday Night Lights, Friday the 13th, Good Friday, Black Friday, and Casual Friday. It’s also apparently a stoner movie starring Ice Cube and Chris Tucker.

We did recently travel to Paris, visited the Louvre Museum for a third time, and marveled at the ancient Greek statue of Venus de Milo, thought to be the work of Alexandros of Antioch created sometime between 130 and 100 BC. It was found on the Greek island of Milos that our cruise ship passed nearby, as we motored from Santorini to Athens. It still strikes me as a Greek Tragedy that many of these treasures have ended up in French and British museums. The French did return the Medici Venus to the Italians after it had been looted by Napoleon Bonaparte. We know that he had “short-man’s syndrome, but also apparently some Venus envy! In the process of giving back, the French began to selfishly promote how “their” remaining Venus de Milo was an even greater treasure, even though it was found in Greece. This was also the case with many pieces of the Parthenon’s facade that were moved to England for safe keeping and never returned. The Greeks still consider it to be theft, as is probably the same situation with Venus. After all, she was unarmed!

Friday is the day of our weekly “Leadership Meeting” or “Early Happy Hour,” so even us lazy retirees continue to celebrate its special place at the conclusion of the work week. While we could do it everyday, we chose the day of Venus to “love” cold beer, hot wings, and casual conversation. It’s still our day to “piss off” and solve the world problems. We have a lot to discuss today including the recent success of Indiana University basketball recruiting, the possibility of Major League baseball in Portland, the change in broadcasting rights for University of Oregon sports, movies & documentaries we all should watch, the Cubs/Cardinals series, the Kentucky Derby, Indianapolis 500, and any upcoming antique & collectible events. It should be just three of us for today’s luncheon, with no guest speakers expected. I’ll also make an exchange of empty wine bottles for full ones from the exclusive Walleye Winery.

My wife and I head for the Big Island of Hawaii tomorrow, hoping we won’t be greeted by a river of hot lava following yesterday’s intense eruption of Kilauea volcano. Several thousand people have been evacuated from the other side of the island from where we’ll be staying in conjunction with the Oregon Auto Dealers Association convention. While my wife attended some meetings, I had intended to rent a car and drive over to the Hilo area, but now I think I’ll stay as far away as possible. In other words, I have no “desire” to see the “fire.”

Old Sport Shorts: Romeo #513

May 1, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

Romeo, Romeo “Wherefore art though going?” Langford has finally made his one-and-done commitment to Indiana University’s Archie Miller, sending a sigh of relief all over the Hoosier state. It is the most celebrated boost to I.U. basketball since Damon Bailey in 1991, announced via television coverage at New Albany High School. Romeo picked the IU hat in the middle of the podium over the other two choices of Vanderbilt and Kansas, and wore it with a big smile of happiness after years of speculation. Unlike the early 90’s, the impact of social media made this decision the most talked about recruiting achievement in recent history. The biggest difference is that Damon had four years to prove his worth to the team, while Romeo will only have one. There was little doubt that Bailey was always headed to IU, but Langford kept us all waiting with anticipation.

Langford is the 27th Mr. Basketball to attend Indiana University since 1939 when the state’s first recipient was awarded:

Romeo Langford 2018
Cody Zeller 2011
Jordan Hulls 2009
Eric Gordon 2007
A.J. Ratliff 2004
Jared Jeffries 2000
Tom Coverdale 1998
Luke Recker 1997
Damon Bailey 1990
Pat Graham 1989
Lyndon Jones & Jay Edwards 1987
Delray Brooks 1984
Steve Alford 1983
Steve Bouchie 1979
Ray Tolbert 1977
Kent Benson 1973
Dave Shepard 1970
George McGinnis 1969
Dick & Tom Van Arsdale 1961
Jimmy Rayl 1959
Hallie Bryant 1953
Bob Masters 1948
Bill Garrett 1947
Tom Schwartz 1945
Ed Schienbein 1940

If all goes as planned, he’ll join fellow-alumni Victor Olidipo as a rising star in the NBA. He’ll surely only stay a second year, if for some reason he’s unable to play. Strange things have happened through the years, so fans are used to tempering their expectations. I was surprised when I saw the IU Band in attendance at the public announcement event, leery that they might just be sent packing on a long bus ride back home. In fact, there might have been a riot at the announcement site yesterday, should he have chosen to go anywhere else. Instead, the band is still playing today!

The fact that IU got another Mr. Basketball does not necessarily mean another National Championship, since only Steve Alford, Ray Tolbert, and Steve Bouchie are in that select group of banner producers. However, it does mean that that IU is once again competing with the elite in recruiting state and national talent. The program has unfortunately never recovered from the Knight era, but this may be the start of the next great chapter. The Romeo impact should only be for a year, but the rumble it’s created will wake-up the sleepy Hoosier Nation for many seasons to come. A surge of electricity has hit the Bloomington campus and alumni like me all over the world feel a sense of rejuvenation. If this continues, I might even buy a new t-shirt this year! Thanks, Archie – it’s indeed Miller Time! (See Post #35).

Retirement is not without Hassles: Brick #511

April 29, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

The other night when I was walking the dogs, I picked up a brick cast aside in a nearby woods. I needed it for the recipe that I’m preparing next week called Chicken Under A Brick so I brought it home with me. Apparently, the Italians have figured out magical way to grill chicken that uses the weight of an aluminum foil covered brick to press the bird forcefully against the the grill. After my success with Beer Can Chicken, I’m hoping for another “winner-winner-chicken-dinner.” It also got me thinking about bricks.

Eleven years ago I got a unique birthday present from my wife, when the Cubs were offering personalized commemorative bricks to be placed on the grounds of Wrigley Field. “3 Generations – Mike Adam Gavyn 9/10/2007.” My dad, Burt, should probably have been included as the Fourth Generation and his dad, Bill, the Fifth in a long line of family Cub fans. However, as my wife explains, it was the date of the first Cubs game for my grandson in the company of myself, my son, and my only nephew (three generations). In a similar manner, I bought my parents their own brick in front of Nick’s on the campus of Indiana University where they met, and I’m pretty sure they included my name on one of the pavers in the downtown plaza of our hometown of Elkhart, Indiana.

I grew up in Indiana as a fan of both basketball and auto racing. The one-class Indiana High School basketball tournament and the Indy 500 were both captivating annual Hoosier traditions. I certainly launched my fair share of “bricks” off the rim trying to perfect my round-ball shooting skills on the basketball court. A “brick” is an errant shot but not as bad as an “air ball.” I grabbed a ball at a local fitness club recently after years of not touching one, and the result was nothing but “bricks and/or air balls.”

On a couple of special occasions I’ve driven a race car, but never as part of a race. I once got to drive my personal car on the famed Indianapolis Motor Speedway known as the Brickyard. In 1909 the original surface of crushed rock and tar was replaced with 3.2 million bricks. In October 1961, it was all topped with asphalt leaving only a 36” strip at the start/finish line now known as the “yard of bricks.” It’s worth kissing! I also attended the inaugural Brickyard 400 back on 8/6/1994 won by a Hoosier high school graduate named Jeff Gordon. This year it will be known as the Big Machine Vodka 400 at the Brickyard Powered by Florida Georgia Line. The naming rights must have cost a pile of gold bricks! .

When I think of brickyards, for some reason I recall a former neighborhood in East Chicago, Indiana primarily inhabited by African Americans, many of which were employed by a nearby brickyard. When I was in high school, the East Chicago Roosevelt Roughriders were the top basketball team in the state, including the championship in 1970. The East Chicago Washington Senators won it the following year. The area was a basketball hotbed, with great shooters who rarely laid a brick. Speaking of Chicago, I also recall WGN TV and Radio play-by-play sportscaster Jack Brickhouse on Cubs and White Sox games growing up. He was the predecessor of Harry Carey, who are both enshrined as Hall of Fame broadcasting legends.

The long lasting endurance of brick construction dates as far back as 7500 BC, while the tallest brick structure in the world is the 1,046 foot high Chrysler Building in New York City, also home of a gastropub named The Brickyard. Nearby Newark, New Jersey is nicknamed “Brick City.” Plus, everyone knows the story of The Three Little Pigs and how the Big Bad Wolf huffed and puffed but couldn’t blow down the brick house, after destroying the others made out of straw and sticks. You’ve also heard the phrase, “Built like a brick sh**house,” and sang along with the The Commodores 1977 dance hit, Brick House. On a similar note, Jethro Tull’s album Thick as a Brick was released in 1972, and Pink Floyd’s rock opera Another Brick in the Wall came out in 1979. Finally, there is an Atlanta-based band named Brick that coined the word “dazz” after their unique disco-jazz style of music.

You don’t have to go far to find a restaurant, bar, or pizza joint named “Brick House” – just “follow the yellow brick road.” It not only leads to Oz, but also takes you to the slot machines at the Las Vegas MGM Hotel. All the big stars are promoted on the giant marques that you find only in Vegas, and engraved on what could be considered to be “star-shaped bricks” on the sidewalks of Hollywood. Does a brick have to be square or rectangular? No matter what shape, it’s a form of immortality that you can buy. The bottom line is if you can’t have your name in lights, at least put it on a brick.

Retirement is not without Hassles: Adventure #509

April 27, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

Five straight days of being a homebody. There was no evening dining out, with the only outside events of my choosing. A college baseball game, a dental appointment, a leadership meeting, and some errands were the only things that interrupted my lazy, binge-watching this week. I sat through a couple of Lost in Space episodes with my wife in the evenings and several seasons of Justified during the daytime hours. From “Danger Will Robinson” to the “Dixie Mafia” of the Kentucky backwoods, there couldn’t be much more range in this week’s viewing habits. Even though the weather was perfect, I ventured outdoors only to run, walk the dogs, get the mail, read on the back deck, and ride around in the convertible. I’m glad I don’t have to deal with the hassles of outer space aliens and poison moonshine.

We did venture out for carry-out burgers & onion rings from Skyline last night. I made chicken with barbecue sauce for dinner one night, had hot dogs and the nachos at the ballpark, and enjoyed lunch at Buffalo Wild Wings today with some friends. The Cubs beat the Brewers while we were eating, and preparations were being made for Round 2 of the NFL draft, while we sipped on cold beers and solved most of the world problems. This is what leadership is all about! On the more constructive side, I did do some laundry, vacuuming, dusting, weeding, dish-washing, picked up the dry cleaning, and fixed the water heater, so don’t even begin to think that retirement is spent strictly on the couch. I also was able to wrangle a $150 in Amazon Gift Cards from Delta Airlines customer service after repeated efforts to resolve our travel complaints from a month ago. I was not as successful as I hoped to be, and I hope there will be additional compensation as they continue to review our case. This is something that I would not have time or motivation to do if I was still working. I’ve yet to get into coupon-clipping and contesting, but I suppose those will be the next steps in retirement.

I will be able to enjoy one more week of relaxation before we head to Hawaii, and deal once again with airline schedules, rental cars, and hotel accommodations. Sometimes these arrangements suck the energy out of me, so couch potato time can be a welcome relief. I’m kidding, of course! I still ADORE (See Post #396) travel and the sense of adventure associated with it. Just as the dogs like to GO – so do I. (See Post #506). Good things do not necessary come to those who wait! You have to GO out and search for them. I wish we had the resources to do more travel, and fortunately we’re restricted by my working wife’s vacation schedule, otherwise I probably would have already spent our nest egg. Being at home gives me time to reflect on where we’ve been and where we’re going next. Days on the road go by so fast that life becomes a bigger blur than it already is, while staying at home slows down that hectic pace. Also, the dogs miss us when we’re gone, as they are currently waiting by the garage door for the sound of my wife’s car. We don’t get that kind of a greeting in hotel rooms or on cruise ships. There’s no place like home, at least until the next retirement adventure!

Old Sport Shorts: Gold Glove #505

April 23, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

In 1957, sporting goods manufacturer Rawlings worked with Major League Baseball to create an annual Gold Glove Award. Last year was the 50th anniversary of the prestigious defensive award, issued each year by position. The very first award for an catcher was won by Sherman Lollar of the Chicago White Sox. It was the only year where there were not individual position awards in both the National and American Leagues, so Sherm was the sole catcher recipient that year. Other notable 1957 winners included Gil Hodges, Nellie Fox, Willie Mays, Al Kaline, Minnie Minoso, and Bobby Shantz. There were three White Sox players (in bold) out of the nine positions awarded. Historically, the player to earn the most of these awards in a career is Chicago Cubs Hall of Fame pitcher Greg Maddux with eighteen.

Sherm Lollar went on to win the award two more times as a catcher, but would have won many more if the honor would have been established earlier in his career. Recent Hall of Fame inductee Ivan Rodriguez won 13 Gold Gloves to lead all catchers. Other backstop greats recognized by Rawlings include Johnny Bench with 10 awards, Yadier Molina 8, and Jim Sundberg 6. The catcher position has always fascinated me, even though it was a position that I never played. Sherm Lollar was my favorite player growing up, starting with his World Series appearance in 1959. Over the past couple of years, I’ve been collecting some of his memorabilia that I proudly display in my office. I also wrote several letters to the Golden Era Hall of Fame Committee suggesting that he be considered a Hall of Fame candidate. (See Post #5), especially in light of the fact that that he is one of the top defensive players in the history of the game.

For Christmas this year, my wife bought me a game-worn Sherm Lollar #10 Sox jersey from 1955. (See Post #494). I also have autographs, photos, cards, pins, and a drink cup in honor of his 18-year career as a catcher plus several more years as a baseball coach and manager. I don’t really understand this fascination with a man I never met, but I now joke about having one of the world’s largest collections of his merchandise. It’s really not much of a museum, but you’re certainly welcome to visit it. Today, I just received a 1950’s era Rawlings leather catcher’s glove endorsed by Sherman Lollar that I purchased on e-Bay. I just couldn’t resist displaying it next to the pin-striped, #10 wool jersey and a Hillerich & Bradsby Louisville Slugger bat autographed by Hall of Fame shortstop Luis Aparicio, another of my White Sox idols from the 1959 World Series. They may have lost to the Dodgers, but they won my heart!

Retirement is not without Hassles: Santa #504

April 22, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

I reluctantly leave Santa Monica, with the songs of Sheryl Crow and The Beach Boys stuck in my head. It was another sunny day here, drying out my damp Portland bones. The only thing to look forward to in going back home is a reunion with our pups and cat. Overall, we had a very Happy Anniversary, southern California style.

Our rooms were “free” at the J.W. Marriott Le Marigot, thanks to rewards points, but we always feel obligated to do a lot of tipping. We even got locked out our in-room safe, so we had to call for maintenance assistance. Management sent up some complimentary chocolate-covered strawberries as a belated apology for the room switch we had to make, so that was worth a tip. Then they comped us a couple of farewell drinks for a cold burger & fries delivery earlier at the pool, so that cost a little more cash on the side. There were also bell-hops, servers, Uber drivers, musicians, bartenders and housekeeping to properly compensate. Sometimes, I think they just screw up to get more tips from generous me, as I played Santa in Santa Monica. Ho…Ho…Ho.

I might get a sunny day in Portland tomorrow and then it looks like the clouds return. It will be back to the slow-paced homebody, retirement routine for the next couple weeks before our trip to the Big Island. It was a good idea to get a little base tan before spending time in the big league Hawaiian sun. We’re there for an auto dealers convention, so I’m once again tagging along on my wife’s business. While she’s in boring meetings, I’ll be hanging with the other spouses, and maybe rent a car to see the rest of the island. Although we’ve been to Hawaii, many times it’s always been to Maui or Oahu, so this is unexplored territory.

I’m headed to another baseball game this week. This time the Oregon State Beavers play the Portland University Pilots at Ron Tonkin Field. I watched the Angels lose in Anaheim a few days ago and The Beavers beat Cal Poly in Surprise, AZ a few months ago. We’ll see the Cubs play in both St. Louis and Chicago before the season is over. While we were traveling, my Hoosiers dropped two college games to Ohio State, while the Cubs actually won a road series against the Rockies. Baseball and retirement seem to go together, at least for me, like hand-in-mitt. The Trailblazers were also eliminated from the playoffs, so there will be no more basketball games to attend for awhile.

Our flight is on-time, so hopefully it will be another uneventful plane trip home. We’ll relax here at the LAX terminal for an hour or so before boarding begins. We’ve talked about booking a trip to Las Vegas, after reminiscing all weekend about our wedding there seventeen years ago. Although we’ve been back many times since, it was seven years ago that we were last there to celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary. I have both Alaska and Marriott points to use, so tips, gambling losses, fancy dinners, and show tickets will be our “only” expense. That’s practically free!

Old Sport Shorts: Hot Dog #500

April 20, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

I got up at 3:15 this morning, shuffled through a one mile run in the dark, and flew from PDX to LAX. At the LA Airport I hopped on a big blue bus with Mickey’s portrait on the side. I arrived at the Disneyland Hotel an hour later, looking for a place to watch baseball and have lunch. I didn’t have to walk too far to find it.

It was the start of a big afternoon and evening in Anaheim, waiting for the start of the Angels vs. Red Sox finale. Hopefully, young Ohtani will provide a rookie spark and save the Angels from a disastrous Bean-town sweep. I took a bar seat at Downtown Disney’s ESPN Zone to watch the Cubs beat the Cardinals. As soon as I sat down the Cubs had a four-run inning and then held to tie the series. The bartender’s name tag indicated that he was a Cubs fan, so I felt right at home. Fortunately, I had already eaten my delicious Cheese-steak sandwich, or I might have lost my appetite after a poor relief effort by Eddie Butler. This time “the Butler nearly undid it,” giving up 3 earned runs without a single out. Old man John Lester pitched six solid innings of two-hit ball to reduce his overall ERA to 3.1. He’s part of the Cubs slow- starting pitching rotation that began the day as the third worst in all of baseball. The final score was 8-5 on another cold, brisk day at Wrigley Field. I’m now sitting here in the sunshine watching the Astros dominate the Mariners.

I’ll catch an Uber to Angels stadium and probably stay for an hour or so before I head back on Amtrak to Beverly Hills for the night. Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, Oh My! It will be first time at Angel Stadium and 20th different home field, so I’ll do a lot of walking around. While my wife works tomorrow, I’ll have another day to myself before we move to Santa Monica.

I’ll try my best to keep tabs on the Trailblazers tonight, but I’ve pretty much given up on them. I fully expected them to win game #2 in my presence the other night. They have to beat the odds on the Pelican’s home court to get back in Playoff contention. I stood under Merlin’s giant cap here at Disneyland to send them some powerful wizard magic.

Goofy just walked by and kids are screaming, so I definitely know that I’m at Disneyland. I’ve only been here once before, in sharp contrast to my frequent visits to Walt Disney World in Orlando. There I am Disney Grandpa, but today I’m just out of place “dirty old man” and ready for a ballpark hot dog.