A few last things

Both my wife and I dealt with minor colds late last week. My guess is that they were a byproduct of our recent round of cool, very wet weather, along with dealing with my mom's death and funeral, plus a very heavy workload the next week.

I knew my resistance was slipping, so I tried to get more sleep (went to bed earlier at night) and took things easy when I could. I still came down with a bit of cold late last week, and my wife must have caught it from me. She has been under extra stress, too.

But we both felt better last Saturday, so we decided to go on a drive to Iron Mountain, our first trip there since the funeral. The first and most important stop was out in the country--the cemetery where she was buried two weeks ago. We got there in the early afternoon.

The headstone hasn't been updated yet, but that will come, like everything else. There is still a lot of dirt lying around from the service, and clean-up work is needed. One of the flower pots on the grave had blown over. I righted it, and within seconds the wind blew it over again.

But the sun was out, just a few clouds were in the sky, and the birds were singing. It really is a beautiful place to rest--I should have taken a picture to show you. There's a small woods on one side (the leaves are turning) and a farmer's field on another. The sky, the clouds, the woods and the birds are all around you. We talked about that: Such a pretty place to spend eternity. And my mom is with her husband and her other son now. Physically, she lies right between them, and her spirit is in the next world with them and her mom and dad. She is happy again, I'm know.

From there, we did some shopping and then went for a steak supper by ourselves. Yum! Haven't done that for a long time. But you must remember that we've been pretty busy, both with summer trips and visiting my mom. It's the same place where we often ate with my mom while she was still at home. I think we started doing that shortly after my dad died in 1994--before that, they went there together a lot.

****

Recently, I wrote to my friend S about my mom's death and how I was dealing with it:

I have been wondering ... whether I should go in and talk to the pastor. She's a nice lady. Something is troubling me: I'm wondering why I feel so detached from my mom's death. I haven't had any emotional moments, not even in private. Hasn't it hit me yet? Not really. Will it? I'm not sure. My work related to her death is nearly over.

The value (?) of self-control

The thing about online chats is that it can open up some new ideas that just sort of spring up out of nowhere. Here's an example.

Last week, I sent a "treasure chest" to my friend B for her birthday. Just a few things. We talked for a while online Tuesday. And she said ...

"I was just thinking about you...yes, indeedy!! A mysterious box arrived at my house yesterday. It was sitting on my computer chair when I got home last evening.

It remains untouched....I do have a little self-control from time to time. ;)"

"Self-control ... so important!"

"Self-control can be overrated as well...oh my, did I just say that?"

"Actually, I totally agree!

Self-control is so overrated! It interferes with new experiences in life. And I, as Mr. Self-Control himself, can testify to that.

Our impulses are trying to tell us something that maybe we need to listen to."

"I hear you, but, like you, I have spent a lifetime "behaving" so everyone thinks that of me....so wrong they are, aren't they?"

"Seems we have to unlearn things we learned when we were young. But we've done that before, haven't we? Not too old to change."

"For sure!! Not at this point in my life anyway. I feel younger than ever, actually. Regardless of what the mirror tells me!"

"So that means we are both still growing and reaching out. That's a good thing."

"Yes, sir, it is!!"

B, of course, is my polyamorous friend from Alaska. It's her birthday on Wednesday. We met for the first and (so far) last time in July 2009.

Our next close encounter? Only the future knows.

Mediations about Mona

I'm getting obsessed with Mona. Really.

So who is Mona? She is a woman who uploads pictures of herself on Flickr. In these photos, she appears to be a woman in her 50s. Maybe a bit overweight, but not by much. Nice smile. And big breasts.

That last part is easy to tell, because in most of her photos her breasts are bare. One breast (the one on her left) is a somewhat larger than the other. They both sag down. As I said, she is not a young girl by any means.

I love her photos, but what I love more is her attitude about her body, the joy she gets (and her husband gets) when she shows off her breasts. This one is under a typical photo. "Jim took this in our room at the beach resort. He has always liked me topless with jeans. I hope some of you like it also."

Here is another. In it, she is standing next to a man wearing a white shirt and a red tie. All she is wearing above the waist is a jingle bell on a red piece of yarn (I think). She writes, "This is Hubby and I at a holiday party a few years ago. I started the evening with a sheer top, but the host spilled wine on it. She wanted to soak it right away, so I took it off and went the rest of the evening with just my bell. She couldn't believe that I would, but It was so fun. It seems that there were many people who wanted pictures of us. Hubby kept saying it must be his red tie. ????"

At times she is wearing blouses, but they inevitably are very sheer, leaving her nipples easily visible. Sometimes she is at the beach (usually a Mexican resort), sitting topless on the beach and enjoying the sun and the attention. Even has a drink with a tiny paper umbrella at times.

Here's one of her in a white tube top, with about half the breasts covered. "I wear this tube top often, but on this day, it seems to have slipped down a little. I hate to see women wear something sexy and then tug at it all the time, so I try not to adjust my tops, unless my tits come completely out. Do you think this is ok?" Looked OK to me.

And yes, I have noticed that, too, when women (especially girls) wear something skimpy. Are you really trying to look sexy or are you just confused?

One picture from the 1980s show a younger Mona wearing a blue sweater that is very loose, opening wide down her chest. "This is a scan of my favorite sweater in the early 80s. I wore it all the time and it was just right. I could make sure I was covered if I felt I needed to, but I know just how to sit to allow one tit to show.

"I'll never forget the first time I let my nipples be seen in a public place. We went to a nice restaurant with another couple and we were seated in a booth with the men on one side and the women on the other. We were visiting and all at once I felt air on my left nipple. I knew it was showing and that Jim and the other guy could see it and about then this cute waiter came by. My first thought was to cover up, but I didn't and I was sooo excited.

"After the waiter left, Jim announced that I was the sexiest woman in the world. The other guy agreed, and the woman looked puzzled, when she looks at me and gasped. "How long have you been like that?" Her husband said "Only 5 minutes." But what was fun for me, was that I did not cover up the rest of the night. My nipple got so hard that it caught my neckline and would not let it up. It was the first tit flash, but certainly not the last."

Obviously, she enjoys showing off. But so what? It harms nobody, it makes her happy, and it makes him happy. I imagine they have a great sex life because she is willing to tease and show off a little ... or a lot.

And you know, I think every woman can be like that, unless they have been traumatized or raised to feel ashamed of their bodies. I don't know what inhibitions Mona had to deal with to be as open as she is now. That's a part of her story I have never read. But I think everyone has the power to overcome our cultural inhibitions about body image and that they are not "perfect" or nearly so. Or a model or cover girl on a fashion magazine. Perfect smile, perfect figure, perfect skin, perfect nails. Most women aren't like that and never will be, no matter how much they fret and anguish about every imperfection. Or how much they spend.

Mona isn't perfect either. Far from it. She is just herself. She loves herself the way she is, she loves her husband, and he loves her. She isn't afraid of making a mistake. We're all human, you know. Same frailties, same vulnerabilities, same fears to some extent.

I think we come down to two very simple facts. The first is that without our clothes, we are all naked. All men look more or less the same, and all women look more or less the same, with the same parts in the same places (with, of course, infinite variations). That is why I have never understood the cultural taboo about nudity. Aren't we all the same under our clothes? Aren't we all human?

The other simple fact is that a person's true beauty is on the inside. I have believed that for many years, and as time goes on I see more and more proof of it. As you look at all the people in the world, you can see it, too. Look beyond appearances. Look beyond the face. Look past the eyes. Yes, look beyond the boobs, too. Look inside. Only then can you start to see the true person, and you can only do that if you actually get to know the person.

Don't know Mona. Never met her. Likely never will. But I'm glad I got to know about her. She's one in a million and probably even more rare than that.

Big-time freeloaders

My wife likes to feed the neighborhood critters. She enjoys that. When some of our bread gets old or we have some old ground beef or scraps from chicken or stale crackers, she doesn't dump it out. She puts it on the back yard. Before long, some of the neighborhood crows or bunnies or cats or sparrows are around, feasting on the stale food.

A couple nights ago, she made chicken corn chowder for supper with some oyster crackers. But crackers she poured out for us were stale. Get rid of them, I said. Today, I saw the aging oyster crackers in the back yard along with bits of stale bread and buns.

This evening, she was making supper for us, and I was upstairs, reading something on the computer, with Charlie in my lap. It was about time to eat, and I heard her voice. But is wasn't time for supper. "Take a look out the bedroom window." I went over to see.

I think I knew right what I was going to see, and I was right. I went downstairs and grabbed my camera ...



There's one. Wait a minute. I looked to the left. There's two deer ...



The deer were moving off to the left of us, to the east. I followed then, and I saw two deer ... and then a third deer moved out from behind the lilac bush next door. Probably the one I saw first ...



See them all? ...



They eventually moved further left and out of our sight, and we sat down to supper. Then my wife looked up. "Look out the front door," she said.

In the distance were two of the deer, which had sauntered across the highway and were nearing the alley behind the houses across the street. I went back to grab the camera again, but the deer were gone by the time I got back.

****

How have I been doing? Well enough, I guess. Late last week, for a number of reasons, I was getting close to burnout. Some extremely busy days at work, at a time when I was still worn down from the last couple weeks. I wrote a piece about it but decided it wasn't worth posting here.

I had worked very hard all weekend, and I was close to exhausted on Sunday, at least for a while. Took an unplanned nap, and that helped me feel better.

My highlight this week was to be a visit to N on Wednesday. She was going to make some steak quesadillas, and we were going to watch some silly movies. The usual routine, which works very well for us. That was the plan.

But Wednesday morning, she sent me an e-mail--she was having septic problems at her place, and she couldn't get someone out right away. On top of that, heavy rain is expected to move in overnight. By the time it ends late Thursday, we are expecting 2 to 4 inches of rain. Flood watches and everything. We have had a wet summer and early fall. The last time I visited N (in late July), it was another stormy night.

It's disappointing, but on the other hand I got to relax some more at home, and R&R time is badly needed. I have been feeling like Mr. Hamster, scampering around, trying to reach the end of his wheel. Mr. Hamster is tired and bored. He wants to do something different. All work and no play for too long makes for a dull hamster. I think Jack Nicholson said that.

At least I'm aware of the problem, and I want to get off my wheel and enjoy life a little more. That is the plan, anyway.

****

My aggregation of football teams didn't finish 1,883rd last weekend.

That's what happened the weekend before. Last weekend, they were 2,721st. I had one of the best offensive teams of the week (San Diego) and one of the worst (Carolina). They nicely canceled each other out. The way the game works, you only have a chance of winning if all three of your teams are really, really good or really, really bad. Otherwise, you wind up in Mediocre City.

This week, my teams are Dallas, Denver and Oakland. Can we at least get back in the top 2,000?

Burned out and detached

Life is starting to get back to normal. The death certificates arrived in Tuessday's mail, and now I can take care of the final work related to my mom's death. All the thank-yous have been sent. Over the weekend, Janet went to her quilting retreat and had a very good time.

As for me, though, burnout remains a danger. I may have come close to it over the weekend.

It all started going downhill (symbolically?) after I dropped Janet off at her quilting thing Thursday morning. Went back to work, and I covered volleyball that night, then football on Friday night.

I should mention that we were way shorthanded at the office. The editor was taking some vacation days, and I tried to get some copy out to the typists so we wouldn't be playing from behind on Monday. And I'm serious when I edit copy--if a lede is wrong or the local angle is buried near the end, I do the repairs to make the story more pertinent. Anyway ... I was the only one in my half of the building for most of Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.

As for my own responsibilities: Saturday shaped up as a very long day, and it didn't disappoint. I went in to work at 8:15 a.m. and didn't finish working until 5:30 p.m. I was in the office, writing about Friday's football games, most of the morning. From there, I went to West Iron's gym, where they were holding a program honoring Chuck Greenlund--they just named the gym in his honor ... and then I drove across the county to Forest Park, where a volleyball tournament was taking plcae.

By the time I got home, I was feeling pretty beat. Most of the evening was spent watching TV with the kitties. We (Charlie and I) watched Bergman's "The Virgin Spring," and followed that the only way you can follow a Bergman movie--with a hockey game recorded last May. But by the second period, I was starting to feel myself drifting off. I made it to the end of the period, and then I went upstairs to bed. Still don't know if Vancouver was able to hold on to its 2-1 lead over the Blackhawks.

Janet called during the movie, and we talked for a while--mainly that I had to pick her and her stuff up Sunday morning. She was having a good time with the quilters. Then hockey, and then I went upstairs. Charlie shared the bed with me--otherwise, I was sleeping by myself. If I had a good, close friend nearby ... but I don't.

The volleyball tournament meant more late stories I had to write, and the football stories weren't done, either. So I went in to work Sunday morning at 7:20. I was figuring a one-hour break when I drove out to pick up my wife and her quilting stuff. Then, back to the office. I stopped right around noon and had the rest of the day off, more or less.

We watched the Packers game together, and then I mowed the lawn. It needed it; it had been about two weeks since it was last mowed, what with the Labor Day trip, my mom's funeral and a lot of wet weather. (We had 3 inches of rain last Wednesday.) Plus, all those evenings away from home, covering this and that. Anyway, the lawn was getting quite long, and I finally had time to take care of it. Then I staggered upstairs, lay down on the bed and crashed. It helped clear my head (that and a couple of Tylenols), and I was able to finish my articles that night.

I had more volleyball Monday night, but Janet and I finally got a chance to snuggle later, and Tuesday I got to stay home. On Wednesday, I was planning to visit Nancy--she was planning to make quesadillas for us, to be followed by a fun movie or two, and best of all I'd get to turn off the world for a while.

That was the plan. But Wednesday morning, she sent me an e-mail--she was having septic problems at her place, and she couldn't get someone out right away. On top of that, heavy rain is expected to move in overnight. By the time it ends late Thursday, we are expecting 2 to 4 inches of rain. Flood watches and everything--we have had a wet summer and early fall. The last time I got to visit Nancy (in late July), it was another stormy night.

Disappointed, but on the other hand I get to relax some more at home, and R&R time is badly needed. I have been feeling like Mr. Hamster, scampering around, trying to reach the end of his wheel. Mr. Hamster is tired and bored. He wants to do something different. All work and no play for too long makes for a dull hamster. I think Jack Nicholson said that. At least I'm aware of the problem, and I want to get off my wheel and enjoy life a little more. That is the plan, anyway.

I want to visit Sheryl and Trisha, too. But that's going to have to wait a while. To visit them, I need two consecutive nights off, and that's about to happen for another month and a half. When my chance comes, I've got to grab it with both hands.

****

I have been wondering ... should I go in and talk to the pastor? She's a nice lady, and I've got something that's bothering me: Why do I feel so emotionally detached from my mom's death? I haven't had any emotional moments, not even in private. It hasn't "hit" me yet, and I'm wondering whether it will.

My theory is that I have been grieving over Mom for these last five years, as I saw her condition gradually get worse. When I felt sad, I wrote about it here. So when it came time for her to pass, I was quite reconciled to the idea and ready to let her go on to her next life, whatever it is.

It's only been a little over two weeks. We cleaned out her house a couple of years ago and sold it last fall. That's done. We have her things from the house and from the nursing home--we have gone through the nursing home stuff already. Many boxes of stuff from home remain. It's going to take time to go through that and reclaim part of the house, which has gotten cluttered with our stuff, her stuff and my father-in-law's stuff, from when that house was cleared out.

I guess it's just part of the process, one generation fading away and another (mine) becoming the elders. The all-knowing elders. But this isn't a question I'm having a easy time answering, so I may be calling in other minds for their input.

We're No. 1883! We're No. 1883!

The new NFL season started last weekend, and this is going to be a different kind of football season for me. For the first time in about six years, the Howlin' Wolfs won't be playing.

The Howlin' Wolfs never benefited from a TV contract or had to negotiate with player agents. It never had to hire security at the gates or hire a large staff or run a pro shop. It never had uniforms or marketing pizazz.

That's because the Howlin' Wolfs lived only on computer servers. That was the name of my fantasy football team the last few years. They did OK. I think one year, we finished second in the regular season. Another year, the Wolfs reached the championship game of the post-season. Other years, they didn't do as well.

Early this year, I decided to stop playing in fantasy sports leagues. I only was in two--a baseball league in spring and summer and a football league in fall. I decided now that I'm 60, I'll move on to other things.

The main reason: I'm just not as much into baseball (especially) and football now, and I certainly don't want to spend most of my free time researching which players I want on my team. I have other things I'm interested in, stuff that I'm more curious about. And I'm more into hockey than I was before.

So no more fantasy teams. For the most part.

This fall I put down $20 to support our local high school football team by buying a ticket in their Football Mania game. It's one of their fund-raisers. You buy a ticket, and it gives you three randomly selected NFL teams--a different trio each week. Your score is the total points those three teams score each weekend.

Each week, the four highest totals and the two lowest totals earn cash prizes. Best total of the week wins $500. Worst total wins $50. If entries finish with the same number of points, their teams' combined net yards is the tiebreaker.

For week 1, I had the Chicago Bears, Cincinnati Bengals and Pittsburgh Steelers. They combined to score 58 points and gained 1,245 net yards. I went to the website to see how I did.

Here's how I did: I finished 1883rd. That's better than 1884th, I guess. The first place ticket had teams that combined to score 110 points.

However, I was pleased to see that my 1,245 net yards was better than any of the top 25 teams. But all 25 of those teams scored 96 points or more. Mine only totaled 58--seems that they moved up and down the field OK but fell apart when they reached the red zone (inside the 20 yard line).

(The second best total net yards was 1,194, by one of those 96-point teams.)

The low total was 22 points. This morning, I got a news release: Seems that a local guy won the $50 prize for having lowest score in Week 1: 22 points and 819 total yards (three teams tied at 22).

Now teams are getting ready for the second week of the NFL season. This Sunday, I will be rooting for extreme success for the Carolina Panthers, Cleveland Browns and San Diego Chargers.

Extreme success or extreme ineptitude. $50 wouldn't be a bad prize, would it?

Let's see: What are my chances of winning a cash prize? Time for a little lesson in practical mathematics.

There are six cash prizes per week, and there are 17 weeks in the season. Multiply one by the other (6*17) gives a total of 102 cash prizes all season.

Since there are 32 teams in the NFL and you get three teams each week, we have to ask my handy-dandy blue scientific calculator how many different three-team combinations there are. Mr. Sharp?

Mr. Sharp: "There are 4,960 different possible combinations of three teams in a 32-team league. That's what the "nCr" function on my keyboard is used for."

Very good. For our next step, we have to divide 102 by 4,960 (102/4960) to get my odds of winning some moolah. The answer: a 2.06% chance. Odds of about 1 in 49.

That doesn't look very promising, right? But look at it this way.

How many of you buy lottery tickets? Mr. Sharp, what are the odds of winning a typical 6/49 state lottery?

Mr. Sharp: "One in 13,983,816. Exactly."

We'll round that off to 1 in 14,000,000. So next, we are going to divide 14 million by 49. One last time, Mr. Sharp.

Mr. Sharp: "That comes to 285,714.2857."

Which means that my chances of winning a Football Mania cash prize at some point this season is 286,000 times better than hitting the lottery. If I ever decide to buy a ticket. I think the last time I invested in a lottery ticket was ... 20 years ago? More?

Anyway, if I win something in Football Mania, I'll let you know. Just don't hold your breath, OK?

Oh, it was a long week

As you may have guessed, this last week was pretty demanding in several ways. For me, most of all, it was exhausting. It wore me down. I tried to have the sense not to let myself get overly tired. I have been going to bed earlier than normal lately and putting non-work-related writing to the side. I hope it works. (The thing is, though, I enjoy writing. It's therapeutic.)

Otherwise, it's been busy. I'll try not to bore you with too many details (I'm sure many of you have had to to this, too) ... but feel free to skip down to the four asterisks (****) after which there is a little news. Update stuff.

We found out about my mom's death when we got back from our Labor Day trip to the in-laws; I wrote the post about it late that night.

On Tuesday, we went to the funeral home to make arrangements for the service. It wasn't too demanding, because we had done a lot of that work back in 2006--decisions on the casket, vault, site of the service, etc. That's also when we paid for the funeral, and, as it turned out, that decision saved us over $1,500; the various costs, especially the funeral home's, have gone up that much in the 4+ years since. If only my actual investments had done so well!

But we still had to agree on the times for visitation, the service, luncheon and burial. Since the cemetery is about 20 miles out of town, we scheduled that last. We had to select the music and the bible verses, too. But my mom and I had talked about that back in 2006, and I still had my notes. About the only "big" decision to be made was the cover of the memorial bulletin. We agreed on a garden/woods scene, with an open gate ... as if she had walked down that path ahead of us.

Then we went to the nursing home to pick up a few of her possessions--mainly the TV, which my wife had her eye on to replace the one we had in the dining room.

From the nursing home, we visited the pastor at the church, and finally we went over to J.C. Penney for some serious shopping: I got a black suit jacket, black pants and a new tie.

After that, we went home, and, of all things, I covered a volleyball match that night. As noted before, our paper has a very tiny staff, and nobody else does sports (or knows much about them). The match was a five-set thriller--I got the story and took action pictures. Our team also had a home match on Thursday ... but since I covered the Tuesday match, I could kiss off the match held the same day as the funeral.

Wednesday, I was back at the office and worked for much of the day. That included making some calls I needed to make--to the place that sent Mom her monthly pension check (my dad worked for the steelworkers union), two insurance companies and the county Medicaid office. (The funeral home said they contact Social Security themselves.)

While I was at work, my wife did some cleanup work at out house and got the spare bedroom ready--my older son and his girlfriend arrived that evening. We had pizza pasties for supper. Yum! Quiet evening, and we all went to bed early; the next day was going to be demanding, and we had to be on the road by 8:30.

Thursday, the visitation began at 10 a.m., and the service was at 11. It was a small service, held at the funeral home. We had about 20-25 people for the visitation and service--she had outlived most of her friends her age. We saw two members of her writers' group, three of my cousins from my mom's side of the family (two from the Twin Cities, one from Chicago), one cousin from my dad's side, my dad's sister, my dad's brother and sister-in-law (all from the local area) and two people from our office.

I spoke briefly--off the cuff, based mainly on the things I wrote in that blog post. The pastor spoke. Then it was over. We said our good-byes to mom--they closed the casket after that. From there, we went to the church for a luncheon, and then we went to the cemetery. And then it was all over, and we drove home.

We all were mentally/emotionally worn out. My wife and I went upstairs and soon were asleep. My son and the girlfriend arrived a little later and also took a nap. Later, we went out together for a nice dinner in town, and then we watched "Mystery Men." Not a night for any serious movie. Everyone liked it ... and went to bed early.

Friday, I was at work all day, and I covered a football game that night. I hardly saw the kids all day--they did this and that. I heard they went for a nature walk and watched a movie at home. Really, though, it was "Hello, good-bye" for me, as I was always heading out somewhere. It's plain to see, though, that they really care for each other. When he got emotional at the funeral home, he cried on her shoulder. And that's how it should be.

They left for the 11-hour drive home Saturday morning. That afternoon, I rented a not-very-minivan, and my wife and I made our final trip to the nursing home to pick up the rest of her items. We said good-bye to a few people we had gotten to know over the years. Then we drove back home. We went through some of the boxes that night. Some of it, especially the clothes, will go to the local St. Vinny's (St. Vincent de Paul) thrift store. Other stuff will be thrown out.

If nothing else, the timing of my mom's death means we will avoid one major headache: The bridge over the Menominee River, which links Iron Mountain and Niagara, is going to be rebuilt during 2011 and will be closed nearly all year. The detour will be lengthy. We have driven over that bridge many, many times over the last five years. But now we don't have to worry about the detour.

****

And life goes on. Back at work this week. We finished up the last boxes from the nursing home Monday night. This morning, I helped her finish up work on the annual directory for her church's women's group--she has done that for year, with me helping out as needed. Then, she went out with the quilters--their first meeting of the fall.

She has got some big things coming up: Starting Thursday, she will be gone to a quilting retreat, which is taking place at a campground on a lake about 15 miles away--they will be working on quilt projects and staying together until the retreat ends on Sunday, so she will be gone three nights.

While the cat's away, the mice will live quietly. Thursday night, I go out to get a picture, and I'm home after that. Friday night, I've got a football game in town. Saturday, I'll be at a volleyball tourney and maybe doing something with David. (I also better get to work on the thank-you cards from last week.) Sunday, I'll watch the Packers' game at noon, and later I'll drive off to the lake to pick her up.

Won't be visiting any friends. Not until next week, when I visit N for the first time since late July.

The quilt retreat is taking place at a church youth camp nearby, and I'm wondering how well the place is heated. But our summers can be coolish at times, and anyway she's been warm-blooded ever since her "change." Warmer than me, in fact; before, it was the other way around.

So she is finally going out and doing something special for herself this year. And in November, she will be doing something else: She is taking another bus tour to Branson, Mo., where she went last fall. But this time, it will be to see all the Christmas shows down there, and she loves Christmas shows. She is trying to talk one of her sisters into coming along. And I'm happy she gets this chance to have a little fun. Fun for her, certainly.

The day in between

So ... today has been a busy one. So was yesterday. And so will be tomorrow.

Let's start out with today. I have been calling various firms I need to inform about my mom's death. I called American Family Life Assurance Co.--from long, long, long before they became known as AFLAC and had a duck (they need a death certificate). I called Marinette County Health and Human Services (didn't get through--left a phone message). I called Crown Cork & Seal, to stop her widow's pension (they need a death certificate). And I called Prudential Financial (we did a lot of work over the phone; they verified information and said they would be mailing a check).

At this time, I don't know of anyone else I need to contact. Well, Medicare RX, her Medicare drug service provider. Aside from that, don't know. They told me at the funeral home that they would be notifying Social Security themselves.

Phil and his GF are here. They left about 6:30 this morning and called from the bridge at 12:15 or so--the exact moment I was at Pasty Corner, getting four pizza pasties for our supper tonight. Phil said he'd be calling when they leave Escanaba--that gives us our two-hour warning.

The rest of today will be spent relaxing. After work, we had to run to the drug store, the grocery store and clean up in their room, including some leftover wood from when my wife had a mini-closet taken out earlier this summer.

Tomorrow is the service. We set up the plans for that yesterday at the funeral home. Private family viewing is at 9:30 a.m., visitation is at 10, service is at 11, followed by a luncheon at my mom's church and then a graveside service after that. Because the cemetery is so far out of town (20 miles more or less), they'll do it that way, so those who want to go can and those who don't don't.

We had made the major plans for the service in February 2006--a few months after she went into the nursing home--and paid for it then. If we had paid for it now, at today's prices, the funeral director said, it would be cost about $1,500 more. So we saved ourselves some money. If only our other investments had done so well over the last 4 1/2 years!

We were at the funeral home about an hour--going over the plans and procedures and setting up the service, the obituary and so on. The service went pretty easily--my mom and I had talked that over at around the same time, and I still had my notes on the music and the Bible verse she wanted. We had to select a cover for the stationery--the bulletin? I don't know what you call them. That was about the only decision we had to make. Most of the decisions had been made years ago.

They e-mailed me a copy of the obit last night. I made a few minor changes, edited the photo we had submitted (adjusted the colors a little warmer, since they use color on the program (or whatever they call it)) and sent it back.

From there, we went to the nursing home--we had the suit she is going to wear, but we needed underwear, socks, slippers, etc. They had all that there. We also got the TV she had in her room and a few others things. Janet wanted the TV for the kitchen/dining room area, since it has a better picture than the other one (my mom's old living room TV) and also has a DVD player.

There is more left in her room--we will have to return, maybe this weekend.

Then, we went to Penney's, where I bought a black suit jacket, black pants and a white shirt and a tie. Spent a bit of money--but I didn't have a suit jacket that fits well. Now I do. I can build on the wardrobe from there and get less formal, more colorful stuff.

From there, we headed for home. Had a quiet evening. Well, she did. I had a volleyball match to cover. And I did. It went five sets, and West Iron won. So I didn't get back home until close to 9. But I did it in large part so I could kiss off the Thursday night match, since the kids are in town. I've got my photos now.

Thursday will be the service, and then we'll spend the rest of the day with the kids and David. Friday, back to work, and I've got football that night at Forest Park. It will be a little warmer by then, but they have a frost advisory out for tonight. The kids head for home Saturday morning.

While I was downstairs with the kids today, my cousin from Texas called. It was Gloria, Harold and Beatrice's oldest daughter. I called her back, and we talked for a while. That was nice. She said some of the other cousins--ones who don't live far, far away--may be coming over here from the Twin Cities area for the service.

It's 10:45 p.m., and I've got a very long, very busy day tomorrow. And it starts early--we have to be on the road a little after 8. I need to take a shower and then head for bed. So that ends this piece, doesn't it?

My mom's wish comes true

After nearly five years, my mom's greatest wish came true Sunday.

She is now back with her mama and papa. And her husband and her younger son. And all the cats she has known and loved over the years. All back together again.

I told her that when I saw her on Wednesday. Several times in the last year, she had looked at me and asked, "Mama? Papa?" And I had to very gently tell her, "They've been gone a long time. They're in heaven now." Both her mother and father died in the early 1960s. And when I told her that, no matter how gently, she would start crying. But a week or two or three later, she would look at me again and ask, "Mama? Papa?" and we would go through it again.

She was always in her right mind--never had Alzheimer's--but she would forget a lot towards the end.

And I also heard that at night they would hear her crying in her room. "Mama? Papa?" I had to really brace myself emotionally whenever we visited--and for nearly the last five years, we have visited every week or so, driving down from 50 miles away.

Last Wednesday, we visited her in the nursing home for what turned out to be the last time. The stroke she suffered a few days earlier had twisted her face, and she couldn't speak at all now. But I bent down close to her ear and reminded her of something I had said before. I told her that her mama and papa are waiting for her--and so are my dad and my brother. "Maybe when you're sleeping," I told her, "you will see them."

No tears. She lived 88 years, and most of them were pretty good. In September 2005, she fell at home and injured her back. Since then, she has lived in the nursing home. Visit by visit, I saw her condition decline. Sometimes quickly, like when she fell and broke an arm or when she had the first stroke. Five very long years. Long for all of us. Especially for her, lying in her bed or in her wheelchair all that time. She never wanted that kind of life. Never. And those were the cards fate dealt her.

As for me, I truly ran out of emotions several years ago. It became an exercise, a spirit-draining ritual, seeing her decline and being powerless to help her. As her only living son, I tried to deal with everything the best I can. I lived with this all these years. It wasn't easy, but I did it, and I can handle it now, too. When we got the word after getting home from our trip to my wife's sisters and brothers, I simply sat down with my phone and started spreading the word among the relatives.

We go to the funeral home Tuesday morning. The funeral was arranged (and paid for) over four years ago, but there will be work to do. My son said he and his girlfriend will be driving up from Detroit for the service. I called her older brother, who turns 91 this month. He's sorry, he said but he can't come. Physical problems--can't be in a car that long. Don't worry about it, I told him. You visited her when she was in the nursing home, and it made her very happy. They talked on the phone last year, when she was still able to talk a little. I think that came on his 90th birthday. She was so happy to hear his voice again.

For the first few years she was in the nursing home, I would take her on drives around the area--mostly the area where she was raised, on the outskirts of town. The old residents in their tarpaper houses couldn't believe the upscale homes there now. She would look very intently are the homes, maybe trying to peel back the years and see the way things were. We would go out to the farm where my dad was raised and where their first little home was--they look just about the same as they did 50 years ago. That was my first home, too. Then she got pregnant again, and my dad had to leave for Milwaukee and a job at a local manufacturing plant.

The last stop on our drives would inevitably be a little rural cemetery, surrounded by farm fields and forests, where her husband and son are buried. In a couple days, she will be joining them.

The long wait is over. At last, her wish has come true.

Betty Boop and me

The good folks at Beloit College in Wisconsin recently released their annual "Mindset" list. Since 1998, Beloit College has released a list of cultural changes that affect incoming freshmen--stuff that their professors should keep in mind to better relate to them.

Since they were born about 1992, for instance, this year's list claims few of them write in cursive or use a wrist watch or remember a TV universe with only three major networks. They have always had computers, and those computers have always had CD-ROM drives.

Wonder what the class of 2014 would say about Betty Boop. Yes, yes, we know: A cute female character they see on women's undies or pajamas or posters ...



What? She has more of a history than that?

Oh, indeed she does. Sit down, kiddies. I'll talk about our recent trip, and then I'll tell you about Betty Boop.

Betty was an animated character who made her film debut 80 years ago this summer--1930--in a cartoon called "Dizzy Dishes." Her final cartoon was released 71 years ago. However, to a small but loyal following, Betty has always been very special. We found proof of that in early August when we attended a Betty Boop Festival in Wisconsin Rapids, Wis. ...



Why Wisconsin Rapids? It's the home town of Grim Natwick, one of Max Fleischer's animators back in the 1920s and '30s. The Fleischer studios had started making sound cartoons featuring a character named Bimbo, a mischievous dog. A very human canine, too--Bimbo walked on two legs and talked and got into human-type trouble.

Max wanted a girlfriend for Bimbo, and Natwick devised a sexy French poodle as a love interest. He was inspired by Clara Bow, a popular and sexy Hollywood actress of that era. Ever hear a reference to the "It" Girl? That was Clara.

The early Betty Boop cartoons gave her doglike ears. The character's name and voice changed from cartoon to cartoon, but her appearance stayed more or less the same.

Here are drawings made of the character for her second cartoon, "Barnacle Bill" ...



I vaguely remember seeing some of the later Boop cartoons when I was a kid, as I watched cartoons on early morning 1950s TV. Many years later, I got to see some of the early Boops and quickly became a big fan. Crazy fun.

This spring, as we drove home from southern Wisconsin, my wife and I saw a billboard advertising a Betty Boop Festival this summer. We saw right away that it coincided with our 39th anniversary, and miraculously there was no local event I had to cover that weekend. Well! We quickly made plans.

Losing my Vox

I was very surprised and saddened a few days ago to learn of Vox's imminent demise. Comments later.

So what am I doing about it? I have started (actually, started using) a blog I had at Wordpress,com. You can come over and see me at my Wordpress.com blog. It looks stable--I have to work on its appearance and pick a different theme, but that's not going to take long, once I take the time to actually get to work on it.

Also, remember that I have two other blogs that I cross-post to/with. I have my blog at Efx3.com, and then there's always my Blogger blog. That's the first blog I ever started, way back when, before Modblog and Efx2 and Efx2blogs. Like the Energizer bunny, it's still going. Credit where it's due.

I wrote my first Vox post on the last day of 2007, in response to one of the many Efx2 meltdowns/freezeups/f***ups. It was a nice place to be. Some of the other Efx'ers migrated here. And then Efx2 came back to life, and a fine community broke up even more.

I saw good friends here. Thought we'd always be able to get together and chat and share pictures. But Six Apart, the people who operate Vox, had other ideas.

In their letter to us, Six Apart didn't answer one simple, basic question about the death of Vox: Why? Since it's left for me to speculate on, my guess is that they simply don't want to operate a free service any more. So why don't you move over to a free Type Pad account. But unless you opt for a Type Pad Micro account, you apparently can expect to pay at least $8.95 per month for the privilege. No, thank you.

I transferred all my Vox stuff over to drdog.wordpress,com, and that will be my new home to replace Vox.

To repeat, this is not my only blogsite. I will continue posting at Efx3.com and Blogger, using the tried-and-true cut-and-paste method. In fact, I usually compose at Blogger and keep my "works in progress" over there. I plan to post one of them later today.

But not at Vox. I am losing my Vox. Sad ... especially because it didn't have to happen. But the powers that be at Six Apart decreed that it did.