Vacation is Over

On September 21st I become an Ericsson employee. All of my vacation time accrued at Sprint must either be taken, or will be paid out in cash. That gave me an opportunity to do something I normally do not do - take an extended vacation during the late summer. My logic was that I needed to take the time more than the money, so I bundled 6 vacation days with 2 weekends and a holiday for an 11 consecutive day vacation.

The first 6 days were spent at home, doing chores and playing a couple rounds of golf. I was able to catch up on yard work and stain the deck among other things. It was time well spent. I set a goal to limit the time I would spend staying on top of office items, so I turned email off to my phone. I did check email once during the week just to read through my inbox and delete the noise. After that, I did not check work email once.

The last 5 days of the vacation were spent in Branson, Missouri. Terri and I planned the trip with Lloyd and Cindy Wilson, Terri's sister and her husband. We got a one day head start by leaving KC last Thursday. We went down early and scouted out possible activities if the forecast rain washed out our golf plans. We also got a head start on shopping, splitting time between 2 outlet malls. Since this is Terri's only opportunity to get me to shop for new clothes, I took advantage of good sales to buy 3 pair of shoes. I see that purchase as a 5 year supply.

On Friday, Lloyd and Cindy arrived around noon. We met at Starbucks and then made our way to Chester's (not to be confused with McFarlaines) for lunch. Chester's is a "can't miss" hole in the wall restaurant serving breakfast "pile-ups", burgers, tenderloins and other tasty items. We were then off to the Thousand Hills golf course to watch it rain. The rain stopped a few minutes before our tee time, so we began our 5+ hour grind on a short par 64 course, dodging rainstorms and allowing smaller groups to play through. The course, with its high rough and plentiful trouble, won handily. One fellow golfer said they miscounted the hills on the course - that 1,000 was too few. Level lies were hard to find. From the 18th hole we made our way to Shorty Small's, a local BBQ joint. A stop at Shorty Small's is a routine for Terri and I. They feature baby back ribs - good quality, but maybe a little over priced. We made it to our condo at Pointe Royale around 9:00 PM.

On Saturday morning we visited a back roads and well-hidden bakery for breakfast. Then we were off to an 11:10 tee time at the Pointe Royale course. I opened the festivities by hitting a house off the first tee. The day did not improve for me at all, but at least I was on a golf course. After golf, we had a late lunch, at Janna's, a hamburger, BBQ, Mexican joint off the beaten path. It was one of our best meals of the trip. The evening was spent watching the Acrobats of the Shanghai Circus at the facility in Branson. Terri and I saw their show 2 years ago. We were pleased to see that the act changes each year, so it was new and very enjoyable to us. After the show, we spent the rest of our allotted calories (for the weekend) at a local ice cream and desert place.

On Sunday morning we ventured to the Branson Scenic Railroad location for a 2 hour tour of the Branson area from a 1940's vintage train. We were able to visit each of 6 cars, and spent time in the luxury car and dome car. This was my first time on a train. It helped me understand how past generations could ride a train cross-country. I found the trip enjoyable, however it bored my wife and her sister to death.

From the scenic tour, we headed to one of the most beautiful golf courses I have ever played. Ledgestone is nothing short of a treat for any golfer. It is also one of the most difficult courses I have played, so as a group we decided to play a couples scramble. I believe we all had more enjoyment than we would have playing our own ball. Couples scores were in the low 80's. Individual play would have scores soaring past 100 easily. It was a great time on a great course.

Sunday was travel day. After a long breakfast, we said our good-byes and hit the road. Our time sped by in the blink of an eye, but it was time well spent.

Funny

The best humor is things that really happen, not made up jokes. A good example is an incident that happened to my brother. He and his wife were spending the night at my sister-in-law's grandparent's home. My bother filled a glass of water and set it in the bathroom in case he became thirsty at night.

He did, so he made his way to the bathroom in the wee hours of the morning, found a glass of water and began to drink. What happened next was very unexpected. His grandfather-in-laws teeth bumped him in the nose as he drank from the glass. He had not picked up the glass of water he prepared, but had picked up the glass his father-in-law used to soak his dentures.

That's funny, I don't care who you are.

Surprise!

Everyone has either been the surpriser or surprisee in a surprise party. In July 2007, Terri and I were surprised by my daughter Lyndy for our 25th wedding anniversary. In addition to flawless planning and execution, she was also able to entice me to cater my own surprise party. Here is how it happened.

A couple weeks before the party, she asked if I would mind smoking a brisket for her in-laws family reunion. I never turn down an offer to barbecue, so I agreed. The reunion date was set for a Saturday evening about 2 weeks out. Lyndy paid for a brisket and I smoked it for several hours in my smoker. The brisket was then wrapped in foil and frozen.

The Friday before the reunion, I pulled the brisket out of the freezer and slowly cooked it overnight. By Saturday afternoon it was tender and ready to serve. Lyndy asked if I could deliver it to the reunion held at her and Dan's church. We agreed. Our brother and sister from Memphis was in town that weekend, and without our knowledge were completely in the know on what was going down.

We loaded up and made the 25 minute drive to the church. Upon arrival, several of my daughter's in-laws, the Farrs, were on the church property riding dirt bikes and 4-wheelers. Nothing seemed strange with that since it was the Farr reunion. We handed off the brisket and chatted with a few of the Farr family. As we prepared to leave, Lyndy asked if we would like a tour of the church. It was a brand new building, so again, nothing seemed strange.

I typically do not spend my Saturday afternoons touring churches, but the Wilson's seemed interested so Terri and I agreed. We toured the sanctuary, a few Sunday School rooms, and then Lyndy lead us to a closed door room. She said we would be especially interested in this room. By then I was extremely bored and just following along. Lyndy opened the door. My first thought was why did all of our friends gathered in a strange church? I can be fairly dense at time, but after a few seconds I deduced that we were the victims of a flawlessly executed surprise party.

Not only was the trap sprung well, I had brought the meat dish for the party. Nice touch, Lyndy. We had a good time celebrating with family and friends. I take from that day 2 unchangeable facts:

1. There is no need for any more family surprise parties as they will all pale when compared to Lyndy's feat.
2. The brisket was exceptional.

Beulah Daisy

My grandmother on my father's side was born in DeWitt Missouri around 1888. Her name at birth was Beulah Thorpe. Her parents did not give her a middle name. Instead she was able to select her own middle name when she reached age 10. She thought that Daisy was a pretty name, so she name herself Beulah Daisy Thorpe. I know little else about my grandmother's early years. She became a mature women during the roaring 20's. I am certain that she had no part of the social aspects of the period.

She married a widower who had a daughter. Her husband, John Leonard Bryant, my grandfather, died of lung cancer before I was born. Together they had a large family. Roby (from John's previous marriage), Margaret (died as a toddler from whooping cough), Dorothy, J.L., Elmer and my father Frank (the youngest). I also know that my grandmother served as postmaster for several years in DeWitt. I found that odd as women normally did not have such positions in her era. I can only assume that she served during war time when most of the men were off fighting.

My personal recollection of my grandmother is one of a very quiet and loving lady. She was someone quite comfortable with herself. She needed very little to survive, and could live life between her ears. I do not believe that I ever saw her angry. She was a person who could sit quietly in a chair for hours, without a TV, radio or book. She would just sit with her thoughts. If I passed by while she was just sitting, she would call me over, sit me on her lap and begin a conversation. One conversation we often had would be her telling me of the evils of smoking, and making me promise her never to pick up a cigarette. She had lost her husband, and years later, her step daughter Roby, to lung cancer. Both were smokers. On multiple occasions I promised never to smoke, but later broke that promise. Thankfully, she never knew.

Every summer, my grandmother would spend a week with my family and I would spend a week at her house. During the time she spent with us, she would have a routine of getting up, cleaning a room or two, reading her bible, then sitting down for the day. During the afternoon she would sit in a chair and nap for a hour or so. I always thought it strange to sleep sitting up, but she was very good at it.

During the week I spent with her, my time was mostly spent playing in the neighborhood. Her daughter (my Aunt) and family lived across the street. Uncle Walter, Aunt Dorothy and my cousins Joe and Jerry were usually willing to entertain me. Joe and Jerry were several years older than I so I was probably a nuisance to them. They were more interested in their nearly identical 1956 Chevy's, and high school girls than with a younger cousin.

My grandmother lived in a tiny house for the entire time I knew her. The 2 story, one bedroom home had a kitchen, bathroom and small living room downstairs and a large bedroom upstairs. When my grandmother could no longer climb the stairs she lived in the downstairs rooms, pulling a hide-a-bed from the couch each night. The same couch that became my bed when I stayed with her. She would let me sleep in the bed and she would sleep in a chair.

Her property backed up to a country club golf course. I would explore the course, hunting for lost golf balls and avoiding golfers. My sport back then was baseball. I remember one afternoon thinking how far a good baseball slide might go on the smooth surface of a golf green, so I tried it. After a good run to pick up speed I went into what I thought would be a long slide. My knee dug into the soft green, carving out a foot long trench. It didn't work like I thought it would, and no doubt left the greens keeper with a real repair job.

My grandmother never owned or drove a car. She walked most places, such as the grocery store, dentist and doctors office. A bus would pick her up for church. My Uncle and Aunt would take her anywhere else she needed to go.

My grandmother lived frugally, but managed to save a few dollars for each of her grandchildren. When I was 18, she presented me with a savings account book containing multiple deposits of 50 cents or a dollar. The total of the account was just over $100, and not a big deal to a kid clearing $60 a week with no bills. I probably spent it soon after it was given. I did not appreciate the sacrifice she put into each savings account.

My grandmother was not a drinker. But after experiencing several "spells" that I now suspect were mini-strokes, her doctor prescribed a shot of whiskey each night to thin her blood. My father would make fun of her drinking, which would embarrass her.

My father would call my grandmother every evening for a chat. Sometimes they would speak for only a few seconds, but more often that not, they would converse for 20-30 minutes.

In 1976, my grandmother suffered a serious stroke. The last time I saw her alive was in a downtown hospital room. She soon lapsed into a coma. I visited her one afternoon in the dark room. I held her hand and spoke to her, and felt a small, almost imperceptible squeeze of my hand . She died a few days later at the age of 88. I will always remember her quiet, loving disposition. She always had time for her grand kids, and spoke with her adult children daily. It was a simple time then, and she was a simple woman who lived an incredibly simple life.

Spell Checkers

Spell checkers are one of the great inventions of the computer age. When was the last time you saw a dictionary? These were once indispensable for anyone who would write as part of their job, or when corresponding with acquaintances (remember letters?). This blog would be more a of a mess than it is without the built in Spell Checker.

I rely on Spell Checkers to make this dummy appear smarter. However, they can get you in trouble. If you are not precise in selecting the replacement word in a Spell Checker list, you can send the wrong message. For instance, I had a vice president with the last name of Flessas. Anytime I would use his name in an email or MS Word document, the Spell Checker would flag it as a mis-spelling. Two of the suggested replacements were Fleeces and Feces. Either of those selections would have conveyed an unfortunate message.

Another humorous instance involved an email I received. I was one of many sent the email that apologized for rescheduling a meeting. The sender intended to say: "I am sorry for the inconvenience", but selected the wrong option provided by his Spell Checker and sent: "I am sorry for the incontinence". Quite a different message?

Driving Lessons

A discussion with a co-worker about his son and driving lessons brought about this idea for a blog. I will start with my driving lessons. My parents did not allow me to drive until after I turned 16 and completed Drivers Ed. Since my birthday fell in June, I was not allowed to take Drivers Ed during the last term of my sophomore year. Instead, I went to summer school.


I remember that we did a little time on the simulators, but were soon out in the vehicles driving on city streets. The instructor would take 4 of us at a time. The 3 non-drivers would be in the back seat and he would sit in the passenger side front seat. He had a brake pedal on his side. One morning a group of us went out for an early drive. I was first in the drivers seat and he directed me to the interstate highway. It was morning rush hour, so traffic was bad. I remember being very nervous with so many cars on the road with me.


The instructor told me to change from the right to the left lane when safe. I checked my side vision mirror followed by checking the left side blind spot. The nearest car was probably 100' behind me so I changed lanes. The next thing I knew was the instructor had grabbed the steering wheel, and cranked it right while hitting the brakes hard. We came to a stop in the right hand shoulder with rush hour traffic speeding by us.


The instructor was also the football coach for the high school team. He proceeded to criticize my driving skills claiming that I had pulled in front of another vehicle. I was certain that my lane change was safe, but bit my tongue and took the lashing. It was embarrassing to be called out in front of the other students. As I think back, I now believe he was merely making a point. He knew that I had not done anything unsafe, but wanted to make the point to all of us that he would grab control of the car if he saw fit.


Otherwise, I passed Drivers Ed without incident and received my license in 1972. That provided the privilege of driving my dad's 1962 Chevrolet Impala station wagon. On rare occasions I was allowed to drive the good car, a 1972 Pontiac Catalina. It was my parent's first luxury cat and was equipped with a large engine. They never found out that I would occasionally do power burn outs with it. Power burn outs are done pressing the accelerator and brake simultaneously. The front brakes do not let the car accelerate, so you spin and burn the tires producing a lot of smoke. We would have contests after work on who could do the most impressive power burn out.


In 1974 I bought my first car. A 1974 Chevrolet Vega Sport, recently awarded as one of the worst 10 cars ever made. It was silver with a 4 speed manual transmission. That car brought about the next Drivers Ed class conducted by my father. Since I had never driven a car with a manual transmission, he took me to a local school parking lot and showed me the finer points of clutching and shifting. The first 30 minutes were filled with disappointment. I wondered if I would ever get the hang of driving my new car. But once I got the feel, it's like riding a bicycle - you never forget.


Drivers Ed was over for a few years. That is until Lyndy turned 15. Since she was a very responsible child, we agreed to get her a learners permit. That meant that Dad was the Drivers Ed instructor. Since Lyndy had many after school activities, we also bought her a car so that she could drive herself to and from the school functions. The car was a 1977 Oldsmobile Delta 88. We called it "the boat" since that is how it handled. The car was huge, while Lyndy was not standing only 5'4". She needed to sit on a phone book to see over the steering wheel.


We started by letting her drive her "new" car though the neighborhood on Sunday mornings, and gradually started going out onto the busier streets. A lot of time was spent in empty parking lots so she could practice parking the boat between the yellow lines without crossing them. The only incident that I can remember occurred later when Lyndy was driving everywhere that we would go together. She was waiting as the second car in line in a left turn lane. The traffic light was not a dedicated left turn signal, but rather a "left turn yield on green". The light changed and the car in front of us turned in front of oncoming traffic who honked and signaled using finger signs. Lyndy followed the car in front. The oncoming driver was shocked to see not one car pull in front of them, but 2. Once I removed my fingers from the newly formed dashboard indentions, I asked Lyndy why she turned left in front of traffic. She said "Because the guy in front of me did."


Teaching Allison to drive was much the same story. Her first car was not a boat, but instead a small Saturn - far more appropriate for a first car. I do not remember any significant events during Allison's initial Drivers Ed training. But at some point, we decided to teach her to drive a stick shift. At the time, I owned a Jeep Wrangler with a 5 speed manual transmission. We started the lessons one weekend in a vacant parking lot near our house. That was a difficult day for me. As Allison went through the normal learning process of dumping the clutch and killing the engine, restarting and repeating the process, however no progress was being made. Instead, she was getting very good at getting my Jeep to "hop". Jeeps are tough, but I began to wonder if it could survive the abuse. I was expecting to see the front or rear axle lying on the pavement. I stayed patient remembering the same experience with my father. After an hour or so, we gave up for another day.

That day never came. Allison lost interest in driving a stick shift, and I did not bring it up again. She would have learned if we had just bought her a car with a stick shift. That should have been the motivation needed to learn. She has never learned how to drive a manual transmission vehicle even though she and Jimmy owned one for several months. Maybe she should blog about it?

The Geology of my Neighborhood

A recent blog provided a description of the summer project I have taken on. For part of the project I have scoured the neighborhood scavenging rocks for a drainage area. I have been fascinated by the variety of rocks found naturally in the area. I am aware that my neighborhood was once in the near distant past was a Christmas tree farm. The remnants of that farm are scatter through out in the form of Scotch Pines, spruces and various firs and cedar trees. My project has got me wondering on the longer term geologic history of the area.

I have found rocks that I did not expect to find. Most of the rock formations are sandstone. But I have also found shale, chert, and limestone. These are all types of sedimentary rocks. Sedimentary rocks are formed as fine particles or organic material are slowly deposited in layers and compressed by water. From this I can assume that my neighborhood was once under deep water, possibly under an ocean. I have also found quite a bit of river rocks. Those rocks are smooth and rounded and are formed by years of flowing water. So my neighborhood was once in a river, or a path that the ocean took when filling or receding.

I have also found granite and what I believe to be very impure rose quartz. These two rocks are typically found together, and tell of another geologic period. Granite is part of the earth's crust and found just below sedimentary formations. As the earth's crust moves, granite will be pushed to the surface. Sometimes this pressure forms mountains. The granite I have found looked identical to what I have seen on the top of Pike's Peak. My neighborhood may once have been part of a mountain range.

My fascination with these finds is increased with the knowledge of how my little world has changed over the eons. It makes my significant efforts of moving a few rocks the around neighborhood for decorative reasons seem so insignificant. Some future day, a glacier may push my efforts away like wind moves specs of dust. Or a mountain will rise again from the earth's crust or a river divert and polish those rocks smooth. Human efforts are so temporary. Everything we work to create will be gone in a thousand years if not much sooner.

This thought is lost on those who buy into the global warming hoax. Like so many liberal beliefs, it is based on extreme short term thinking. It was hot today or yesterday, so I believe global warming is true. In fact, a century of warming would prove nothing. The fact remains that man is insignificant. The earth will cool and it will warm as it has done in the past. Nothing man has done or can do will change that. If you really want a laugh, consider the recent article where scientists are developing plans to paint rooftops white, or seed the clouds in an effort to cool the planet. Just another example of mankind believing they can control God's creation. Only the things of heaven will last.