Archive for the ‘Birthdays’ Category

Distinctively Frondybo

Thursday, August 10th, 2006

• He’ll answer to the name of Jeffron, GrandyFron, or possibly Stenchpit, or maybe even Crocboopdile—if he’s had his nap.

• Erstwhile Innmaster, he had no trouble explaining to his disgruntled tenants why he cut me so much slack. That was a long time ago, but he still does. The generosity of his father resides in his heart.

• Like his father, he’s a gardener, outdoorsman, family man, and natural leader. Unlike his father, he became an errant Elizabethan and perhaps the truest Thespian in the family.

• He was the first of the Clan to “go back to the land,” but he’d already won my admiration by then. Soon after, he showed me what it meant to be a stepfather. He continues to help me understand ideas like ingenuity, self-reliance, and fidelity.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my brother, “Fron.” I love you, forever…

The Summer of 42

Saturday, July 29th, 2006

• Sometimes I call her “Toots” and sometimes she calls me “Pop.”

• Many, many moons ago she was minding her own business when her mother started spending a lot of time with a young man who had nothing to do with a daughter’s life. Or perhaps he had everything to do with her life, but didn’t know how to do anything except miss an opportunity. Can an audience forget a bad note, no matter how good the performance that follows? Can a jury disregard a piece of evidence, no matter what the judge says about ignoring it?

• She has a father, and I never believed she desired another. So I became something else. I’m still not completely sure what it was or is. Maybe it’s time I find out.

• She is the little girl I never knew. She is the struggling teen I could never comfort. She is the adult who never stops trying. She is the mother of a wonderful grandson.

• She probably understands things about me that I can’t see in myself. We probably need to share words with each other that we don’t know how to say.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my my one and only daughter. I do love you—forever.

You’ve come a long way, Kid Punk

Monday, June 26th, 2006

• He overcame his childhood learning challenges to become the most highly educated and professionally accomplished member of the family—a Clan Treasure.

• Compassionate, open-minded, tireless, inquisitive—all the qualities one would hope for in a physician.

• More than a superb clinician, he’s truly earned the descriptive term of healer.

• Many call him friend—I’ve never seen a person more naturally comfortable in the role—and a generous one he is.

• He selected his mate as carefully as he picked his vocation. He chose both wisely. And now he investigates the responsibility of fatherhood with the same sincere, prayerful, conscientious approach.

• He could have given up. He could have carried hatred. He forgave instead, and unlocked the door to a lifetime of victories.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my “kid” brother. I love you, forever…

Various & Sundry, part thirty-eight

Thursday, May 4th, 2006

— Last night I did the 30-miler to Stanford and back and felt strong. Back in July of 2005 I did that same ride and I was burnt toast by the time I got home. This is called progress. As a result, my legs felt a bit spent in the pool today, but I almost broke my 300-yard record time anyway. If had the buckers, I’d locate a challenging summer triathlon and go for it. “My favorite thing that makes me happy is… money.” Tell that to the Graybeard Prospector.

— If you can believe Zogby, 20% of 18-24-year-olds think that Germany was our ally in the second World War, and 52% could not name the American president who fought it. OK, the only solution is to produce a new WWII movie blockbuster that drills it into their heads. Here’s the cast—Dennis Quaid as FDR, Hilary Swank as Eleanor, Ed Harris as Ike, Paul Giamatti as Truman, Tim Robbins as MacArthur, Pete Postlethwaite as Montgomery, Ethan Hawke as Ernie Pyle, and Michael Gambon as Winston Churchill. Top that! I know, I know… lots of big battle scenes and pre-deployment consummations.

— I’m starting to see indications of blogging backlash, and maybe you’ve seen the same thing or—Heavens, no!—are part of the lash. Well, if you have any doubts about how constructive blogging can be, check out the way Dr. Weston has integrated it into his teaching at Gruntled Center.

— I had my second meeting with Wilma today and it looks like my having a one-man show at Danville’s Community Arts Center in 2007 is nearly a “done deal.” Stay tuned…

— Take the “Which Superhero are you?” quiz. I am ROBIN!

— BCA got a digital camera for his birthday present. Look out—the torch has passed. I didn’t go to his party. I figured I’d be too intimidated by all the celebrities.

V & S

Commander SpaceDork, Esquire

Wednesday, May 3rd, 2006

• Other than motorist, you can call him a lot of things, because he just might be the most multi-talented person I’ve ever known—artist, musician, actor, humorist, gamesman, advocate, designer, scientist, thinker—how does someone like that decide what to do? Well, it appears he has decided what to do and what to be called… Writer.

• He expanded my joy of uncle-hood, and has enriched my life with his many discoveries, observations, and creative acts. He jolts my imagination. He makes me ponder, stretch, laugh.

• Of course, he’s brilliant, but also understanding, understandable, considerate, generous, and fun-loving. As we all know, those qualities don’t automatically go together.

• When he was four, he said to me, “My favorite thing that makes me happy is… money.”

• Today, I suppose, his favorite things that make him happy are…

Free words—
one hundred and one at a time, to be precise.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my “NB.” I love you, forever…

Various & Sundry, part thirty-six

Saturday, April 29th, 2006

— It was a small group of local runners this morning, due to the Derby Festival in Louisville. I’m sure most of them were competing in the 13.1-miler, but my pals Don and Larry were doing the full Marathon. Mort and I did ten miles at a comfortable enough pace to talk the whole time, covering a range of subjects from mentorship, aging, rail trails, grassroots activism, minority politics, and the separation of church and state, which was a great way to start a birthday. After I got home, Lee stopped by to present her gift—a copy of The Emerald Book, which she found in her grandmother’s attic. It’s troubling to think it wasn’t so long ago that third and fourth graders were reading the poems of Shakespeare, Stevenson, Kipling, Tennyson, Coleridge, Hawthorne, Riley, and Emerson. It also contains reproductions of works by painters like Hals and Carpaccio, with short lessons in art appreciation. What happened to the idea of children having the imaginative freedom to be kids while they simultaneously advance on a gradient apprenticeship to adult culture? Instead, we have a glut of twenty-something adolescents attempting to understand the roots of Western Thought by watching a Brad Pitt movie, as primary schoolers learn that “fuck” can be either a verb, noun, or interjection. Does anyone know how we let this happen?

— Although we had a good turnout at our banquet Thursday evening, most of our strong Centre College supporters were absent because, unfortunately, we were competing with the appearance of Helen Thomas as part of their Press Distinguished Lecture Series. Not surprisingly, the veteran White House correspondent directed her criticism at the president, suggesting he follow the advice given to LBJ during Viet Nam and “Declare a victory and leave”. Please pay closer attention, Helen—that’s what our enemies may already be in the process of doing. Jordanian Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, in a desperate attempt to impede the steady rise of Iraqi democracy, revealed his appearance in a recent propaganda video. In another tape, Egyptian Ayman al-Zawahri pleaded impotently with Muslims to oppose our Arab allies, and he declared that militants have “broken the back” of the U.S.-led effort. In the face of such frantic attempts on the part of Al-Qaida to remain relevant in Iraq, now is not the time to abandon the fledgling coalition government.

— Terie and Marty came over for either a late lunch or an early dinner—not sure which—with berry pie and ice cream (I don’t do cake on April 29th, thank you). Marty described his new pc game, Rome: Total War, and we watched a classic M:I episode, “The System” (we used to call it “Johnny Costa” back in the 60s) while Dana and Terie finished the tuna melts, keeping an eye on the NFL draft at the same time. I’d already received my gifts of a wristwatch and set of Koh-I-Noor Nexis art pens from Dana. Terie and Marty surprised me with a Serenity DVD. Well, maybe my home is not a hotbed of high culture, but who can find fault with a full day of pleasurable cooleosity?

— Ok, it’s 54. Happy Birthday to me.

V & S

Two spirits, one heart

Monday, April 17th, 2006

• A first son, he was named for his father, so he also named his first son after himself. The world can always use another John.

• He would have been 83 today. His birthday didn’t fall on Easter this time, but Resurrection was always in the air as he turned a year older. He was blessed, like me, to have his favorite season at birthday time. He loved the spring—preparing the garden soil, and sharing his awe at the rebirth of each living thing. Although winter never kept him indoors, his mood always brightened perceptibly when the woods and river bottom came back to life.

• He often hid his sorrows, but never his affection. He could be fierce when setting strict standards of excellence, but his strong regard for personal initiative and the special destiny of the individual was always clear.

• He battled his demons, like most men—did the saints not engage, spar with, and confound them; did the Savior himself not find it necessary to cast them out? He silently carried the secrets of others, but held out his mistakes as lessons to those he loved, in the generous spirit for which he was known.

• A magnanimous man who put others at ease, it was never easy to see him as the lifelong warrior he proved to be. His dedication to country was intertwined with his love for his kin. He didn’t need to look upward to cathedral heights or forest canopy to connect to his Lord, but he would be at peace equally in both sacred places.

• We were very different types of individuals in many respects, but shared a similar temperament, for better or worse. While he was alive, I really had no other mentor. There are sides of myself I wouldn’t or couldn’t discover until he was gone. I would have liked for him to have seen some of those aspects.

• He is my namesake, and among those who are dearly missed, he was the great catalyst in my life. His legacy is strong. His influence will endure. His Clan will live long.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my “Dadbo.” I love you, forever…

My soul mate

Tuesday, April 11th, 2006

• She deserved to have a calm birthday, but “the wheels fell off” last night. Bruce started to run a fever and his blood pressure dropped so low he couldn’t even sit up without passing out. Dehydration was setting in. He ended up at the ER. Dana spent most of the night at the hospital with him. These recurrent spells are part of the recovery process, I guess, but it doesn’t make it any less worrisome.

• If you’ve been reading this log, you know what she’s been through for over a year. There’s not much that can be done to mitigate the emotional upheaval. That’s just the way it is when you’re a mother, isn’t it?

• Many, many moons ago she was minding her own business when they stuck me in the same office with her. Who would have thought that a couple years later we’d be starting our own business together in the studio her father built? Who would have thought that we’d be wed in the yard of Dixonwood three years after that? We’ve done our best to guide this boat we share, and managed to steer it to Kentucky, but the current seems to have a strong life of its own.

• She is my dearest friend. Hers is the hand I reach for in the squall, the person I trust to tell me the truth about myself, the one who saw the real me, and whose laughter feels the best.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my “partner in all things.” I love you, forever…

Mother of a Clan

Friday, February 24th, 2006

• Accepting family as her top priority, she put her competitive spirit on standby, but never lost her love of fair play, teaching us that wholesome fun is an essential part of life.

• I could’ve become a quitter, but she helped me overcome discouragement born of self-doubt to meet a commitment and to fulfill a goal.

• When almost everything in the world of my youth said,
“Be cynical, or pessimistic, or both,” she was my reliable source of optimism, like a spring that never dries up.

• “Anything worth doing is worth doing well” was not a stale platitude for her, and she nurtured a regard for craftsmanship. If I distorted that gift into perfectionism, it’s not her fault.

• Quick with praise and slow to criticism, observant eyes without guile and easy laughter is her trademark.

• Pious, yet mischevious; dignified, yet unpretentious; she is naturally self-sacrificing, but nobody’s fool.

• When something bothers her, the discomfort is usually directed inward. If she’s called upon to render judgments, they’ll be reluctant, fair, morally sound, and never demeaning.

• Her belief in me has always been iron-clad, devoid of showy affection, but as steadfast as anything in my life.

• If you’re up to no good, and you see her spinning that broom—trust me—just dive overboard…

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my “Mombo.” I love you, forever…

My first pal

Monday, February 13th, 2006

• She might’ve been my first teacher; I might’ve been her first student.

• We took the stage together, faced the crowd together, and danced in the hot lights together. We didn’t get paid, but it was “show-biz” all the same. We were an “act”, and we quit at the top of our game.

• Speaking of games, our first ones didn’t come in boxes, across a wire, nor on a disc. We invented them, and we’ve been “players” ever since.

• Together, we observed the strange world around us, and the language available was insufficient, so we made up our own vocabulary to augment it. We shared it with those who would listen, and it met with their approval. They made their own contributions and helped pass it on to a new generation.

• She blazed a trail of achievement, so I followed it into the peaks of the high country. “I can do this, too,” I thought, so I blazed a trail of experimentation, but my trail descended into the bogs of the low country. During my journey back, she never lost faith in me, nor placed conditions on her love. She always remains the teacher, through her joys and her heartaches, and now I’m only one of those who follow her trail. It’s never been an easy trail, but it’s always been a good one. Blaze on, my lifelong companion. Blaze on.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my “big sis.” I love you, forever…

Happy Birthday to Marty

Monday, November 21st, 2005

Yesterday I went to church at the Salvation Army, which inspired me to write a Thanksgiving prayer, so I treated myself to a sandwich at my neighborhood hang and wrote it out. I saw Tim and Jo Ann, learning that they’d been able to buy the infamous “Banker’s House” on Perryville Road and were in the midst of moving. They said that if they didn’t do it before the holiday, they might be too busy until January (Jo Ann) or April (Tim). Yep, that sounds about right for those two. I wondered how far into seven digits the sticker price climbed. They asked me how Bruce was doing. Given Tim’s long, long recovery from his accident, these are two people who understand the meaning of “slow progress.”

Afterwards I puttered around at home, taped plastic around the air conditioner in the mud room, and managed to fit in a nice cross-country run on Mack‘s Trails with Milton and Jim before joining the Strocks for an evening of relaxation. Terie invited me to share a delicious birthday dinner for Marty—venison chili with cornbread and salad, followed by cake and ice cream (mounds of it!), plus a DVD thriller with Kathryn Morris.

Later on, Marty and I both realized we were still in front of the tube watching, for no reason, a Will Ferrell movie with Mike Ditka that stunk to high heaven—because we politely assumed the other wanted to—so we promptly re-adjourned in front of the PS2, enabling the Galactic Empire to capture Hoth, the ice planet, and closed our night with a burst of energy.

Moral of the story— If you’re going to eat two bowls of chili, birthday cake and Breyers, be sure to run hills for five miles first.

Or maybe eight.

Happy Birthday to me

Friday, April 29th, 2005

– repeat –

(with Caliterra…)

Buffalo man, won’t you come out tonight

Monday, April 11th, 2005

As we hold our vigil, I’m reminding myself of some hilarious things Bruce said during his interlude off the ventilator.

Paraphrasing… “I was in The Wild Wild West and fighting James West and he took all my money. I was running a railroad and there was the train and everything, but throughout it all I was this huge buffalo. I knew it wasn’t happening, but it was layered over this reality. Then my Dad came to visit me, and I was talking to him, but I was still a huge buffalo… John, I could never begin to catalog all the strange dreams and images, but I can tell you that I definitely gave birth to a ferret.”

As his wife Pam said, “I want some of whatever he was on.”

– – –

p s ~ Happy Birthday, Dana. I pray that you get your wish.

Gee Dubya vs Judo Vlad

Thursday, February 24th, 2005

The media overhyped the president’s “summit” today in Bratislava. If there really was some sort of significant impasse between the two leaders, the meeting would have never taken place. More important was the Bush speech in the open air before the Slovak people. Most of us in the States have no appreciation of how closely the nations which threw off Communism listen to the words of a visiting American President (or how closely the Russians do, as well). For me, focusing on the event causes a reflection on my Slovak ancestry. I must often remind myself that my father was half Slovak, and I haven’t even begun to figure out the implications of this genetic heritage.

(ps— Happy Birthday, Grammo!)