Retiring Guy

City Hall and Downtown Philadelphia Between the Wars (Postcard)

2012-02-02T11:41:00.000-06:00

City Hall Philadelphia: The largest municipal building in the country and the finest example of the Second Empire style

City Hall Virtual Tour.

Google street view.

List of tallest buildings in Philadelphia.

Philadelphia Architects and Buildings: City Hall.

Downtown Portland Maine Between the Wars (Postcard)

2012-02-01T10:44:00.001-06:00

Then.....

...and more recently. The hotel is still in business.

Evolution of Congress Square and the Site of Congress Square Plaza. (Slide presentation.)

Mainely Urban.

LINK

February 1, 1991

2012-02-01T10:26:00.001-06:00

I work a half day as I'll be subbing for Liz at the reference desk tomorrow. Absolutely engrossed with the library's new toy, I spend most of the morning searching BIP's CD-ROM database. I print about six or seven collection development book lists.

I stop at home for lunch and to check on Andy. We kept him home due to a fever. He looks so deflated and lethargic.

After a bowl of soup, I drive into Madison, park near the Capitol, and then walk to Walgreen's, the credit union, and Pic-a-Book. It's a beautiful afternoon to be outdoors: sunny, and by early February standards, warm. On the way home, I stop at Cub Foods for orange juice, at Andy's request, and at Apollo for Rolling Rock and gin in order to restock two of my favorite potables. Once I return home, Barb decides to take a walk' she's been housebound the entire week. Andy wants me to tell him "Goldilocks" and he responds with lots of laughter to my exuberant presentation.

Downtown Cleveland Between the Wars

2012-01-31T12:25:00.000-06:00

\

Plans to revitalize downtown Cleveland are in the works. (11/30/2010)

LINK

January 31, 1991

2012-01-31T12:10:00.000-06:00

After filling a cart beyond capacity, I discover that my checkbook "is not in my possession".

No sweat, I tell myself, I'll use the TYME machine.

Which is temporarily out of order.

I unload the cart and allow the cashier to scan its contents. I fish a dollar bill out of my wallet and explain to her, "Looks like we have a problem. I forgot my checkbook, and the TYME machine doesn't work. Could you give me chance for a dollar so I could call my wife?"

'You are so amazing," JoAnna says, not complimentarily, handing off the checkbook fifteen minutes later.

My defensiveness evaporates by the time I return home.

"Your dad is a space cadet," I announce to Andy.

Post-WWII Downtown Clearwater, Florida (Postcard)

2012-01-30T09:55:00.003-06:00

Then....

...and now.

LINK

Clearwater takes slow approach to Gateway revitalization. (Tampa Bay Times, 4/20/2008)

January 30, 1991

2012-01-30T09:36:00.002-06:00

Since I have a meeting downtown, JoAnna leaves early, before Andy is out of bed. He wants to take a box of Teddy Grahams to daycare, but I tell him, no, you can have some in a plastic bag.

The Automation Forum meeting goes well. Pete Hamon asks me to open the session.

On the walk back to the ramp, I stop at the Sugar Shack to browse through the record bins. I walk away with ten albums, including Fleetwood Mac, Lindsey Buckingham, the Jags, Shawn Phillips, Richard Torrance, Henry Gross, the Henry Paul Band, Danny O'Keefe -- 2 of his, I think -- and maybe that's it.

I'm less than focused at work, and my return to the library is delayed by preparation time for a tuna noodle casserole. Most of my energy is expended revising ETN notes.

After picking up Andy, I use household chores as an excuse to delay dinner. JoAnna returns from a meeting at 8:30.

Post-WWII Downtown Lincoln, Nebraska (Postcard)

2012-01-29T08:14:00.000-06:00

Since then.......

LINK

LINK

January 30, 1991

2012-01-29T07:44:00.000-06:00

I experience an extremely pleasurable nocturnal emission at some indeterminate point. JoAnna rouses me from bed at quarter to 4 to feed Eddie, my underwear still moist at the Y-shaped opening. He gulps down four ounces, then fusses for 30 minutes before falling back to sleep. I sleep until 8, then do my exercises and eat breakfast before running errands. Eddie needs formula, and I need more notebooks, though I buy only one. Before going to work, I fix beef stew in the crockpot.

I meander through the workday, although I do finally get serious about revising my ETN notes. The evening is slow, not much reference.

Pre-WWII Downtown Utica, New York (Postcard)

2012-01-28T08:08:00.001-06:00

Photo source: Familypedia

A upturn for downtown Utica? Utica Observer-Dispatch, 1/10/2010)

LINK

January 28, 1991

2012-01-28T07:47:00.000-06:00

I wake up feeling refreshed but can't help but wonder how my off-the-wall my ranting during Superbowl halftime appeared to JoAnna and Barb. I walk to work, the temperature in the mid-20s, compared to last week's subzero mornings. The workday is routine and perhaps my concentration isn't as sharp as it should be. I am still avoiding a review of my ETN notes, but then I'm also so familiar with the material from past study and presentations that I certainly don't need to go overboard this time around. I stay -- past six. JoAnna calls to inform me that basketball starts at 8:45, which reduces my enthusiasm immediately. However, the entire family attends, although we almost don't make it since neither of us knows exactly where Schenk School is located. Both Andy and Eddie are well-behaved fans.

Post-WWII Downtown Reno, Nevada (Postcard)

2012-01-27T08:31:00.002-06:00

January 27, 1991

2012-01-27T08:18:00.000-06:00

I serve Eddie his early breakfast. By the time he's settled down and back in his crib, I decide it's too late to go back to bed. I exercise, then read the paper and drink coffee. For the most part, it's an uneventful day. During the afternoon, Eddie and Andy and JoAnna and I take a walk around the block. Andy has to be carried much of the time. . We nosh on leftovers while watching the Super Bowl game. Actually, I'm sitting at my desk, reorganizing my notebooks. The game is mostly background noise for me during the first quarter. I start to get into the proceedings during the second quarter, but at halftime, I snap. I rave about wanting the TV to break down so we'll be without one since I know JoAnna will never go out and buy one and that what we're watching is nothing more than a string of commercials occasionally interrupted by a football game. The sight of Bush's stupidly grinning face sends me reeling out of the room.

Pre-WWII Downtown Hartford, Connecticut (Postcard)

2012-01-26T11:19:00.001-06:00

G. Fox & Company Department Store

1947: Established in Hartford
1918: Eleven-story building open, replacing 5-story structure destroyed by fire.
1965: Sold to May Department Stores Company.
1969: Downtown store's final expansion.
1969: First branch store opens in Waterbury. (11 more opened during following 2 decades.)
1992: Name change to Filene's.
1993: Downtown Hartford flagship store closes.
2006: Remaining stores sold to Federated Department Stores; name changed to Macy's.

Reviving Ailing Retail in Downtown Hartford. (The New York Times, 6/9/1993)
Escape from Connecticut's Cities. (Brookings, 4/8/2001)
Downtown Discount. (Hartford Business Journal, 2/7/2011)

Source: Trip Advisor (Hartford: Architecture)

January 26, 1991

2012-01-26T10:49:00.000-06:00

JoAnna and I make the mistake of allowing Andy to sleep with us. Consequently, I experience a restless night. I take care of Eddie's 5 a.m. feeding, allowing him to fall back asleep on my chest before returning him -- and myself -- to bed. Around 8 o'clock I stretch my arm and discover that I'm alone in bed. I then sleep peacefully for two hours.

Until our guests arrive, it's chore time: cleaning the house, doing laundry. I walk to Sentry to buy the ingredients for an appetizer. It's a cold, blustery day, and my face is nearly frozen when I return. Chuck and Barb, Larry and Martha join us for dinner, a very relaxing, cozy evening. The one low point: my sister's contribution to the conversation about nicknames. Am I being overly sensitive or are certain embarrassing family-related flashes from the past truly inappropriate?

On This Day in History, January 26, 1945

2012-01-26T08:43:00.000-06:00

Carl Nelson and Marion Luthgren were married at Zion Lutheran Church, Rockford, Illinois.

Downtown East Chicago in the 1940s (Postcard)

2012-01-25T11:39:00.000-06:00

From Historic Structures of East Chicago

January 25, 1991

2012-01-25T11:27:00.000-06:00

Maybe I shouldn't be so cavalier about deleting no longer or little used computer files, I grumble to myself as I search a file cabinet for a paper copy of the original request for cleaning services at the library. I waste an hour putzing around, but by the early afternoon I have completed the first draft of a very acceptable revision. During the rest of the afternoon, I move the card catalog over the computer and electrical outlets. Now Liz and I have an unobstructed view of the computer carrels, which I don't think we need to move any closer to the information desk.

After work, I drive to Cub Foods to buy wine and beer. I spend the evening making eggplant parmesan.

The Superlative 1960 Chevrolet

2012-01-24T20:59:00.000-06:00

Pre-WWII Downtown Dayton, Ohio (Postcard)

2012-01-24T11:43:00.000-06:00

Hotel Biltmore.

Constructed in 1929.
Designed by architect Frederick Hughes in the Beaux-Arts style.
Redeveloped in 1981 to provide housing for the elderly.

Photo credit: Wikipedia

January 24, 1991

2012-01-24T11:28:00.000-06:00

The good news is that Geac is back up. Andy Oie agrees to set up a CD-ROM multi-disc station. The bad news is that Mark is sick, and I waste an afternoon re-organizing software.

I hesitate to attend a Chuck Chvala fundraiser, but a last-minute phone call to JoAnna convinces me that the drive into Madison is well worth the effort. I arrive earlier than anyone else I know, but by the time I see lots of familiar faces I'm feeling claustrophobic. JoAnna wants to stay so I volunteer to pick up Andy at daycare. We stop at the library for two reasons: to get videos for Andy and to see if Deb and Pat need a hand. Before leaving, I shoo a friend of Tom's out of the staff workroom.

Later in the evening, I take Andy grocery shopping.

Downtown Jacksonville, Florida (Downtown)

2012-01-23T11:16:00.000-06:00

Downtown Jacksonville in the mid-1950s.

LINK

CDCs help revitalize area north of downtown Jacksonville. (Florida Times-Union, 3/14/2010)

January 23, 1991

2012-01-23T10:11:00.000-06:00

Wake up to a new video. Keep up as best I can but wonder when the movements will be seamless. No matter what the push, most of the time I think I'm in pretty good shapes, even if I don't bicycle or cross-country ski anymore.

On my way to a SCLS Finance & Governance meeting, I stop at Scott's to buy treats -- splurging when I ask for two dozen donuts -- and make the extra effort to drive to Sentry for orange juice. During the meeting, Madison Public Library Director Peter Niemi is not nearly as obstreperous as I would have predicted. The group makes lot of progress, which doesn't mean it still can't be all for naught.

During the early afternoon, Peter Hamon, Julie Chase, and I discuss the specifics of the clearinghouse arrangement. The more I think about this change in resource sharing, the less enamored I become of it.

To clear my head, I drive to Hilldale to purchase orange and green hi-liters at University Bookstore. The nerd in me is ready to cream his jeans.

When I get home, JoAnna tells me we need milk.

January 22, 1991

2012-01-22T17:50:00.000-06:00

wtf

It's my morning off, JoAnna's first day back at work. Andy must sense the change; he offers no resistance to the resumption of the old workaway routine.

Eager to tackle some errands, I leave the house nearly two hours before my expected arrival at the library.

Paul 1, Perry 0.

I drive to West Towne, shop for shirts and a scarf at Sears. I charge my purchases, experiencing the plastic buzz I'm so familiar with, then continue the feeling at Waldenbooks. I pay cash for Maniac Cop at Suncoast Video. The Purple Rose of Cairo is no longer in stock.

Before my shopping spree, Barb hits me over the head with a verbal hammer. Dale was busted for cocaine last spring outside of Buffalo. It's new to me. Mom and Dad haven't breathed a word.

"I just can't figure out how after all these years, Dale still thinks he's invincible," I comment.

I also wonder how come she's so knowledgable about the location of Dale's beer and pot and cocaine.

January 21, 1991

2012-01-21T09:12:00.000-06:00

The alarm goes off at 6:00, but I'm not quite as quick to throw off the covers as I expected to be. Nevertheless, I still get to work shortly after 7:00. My Monday game plan is to hit the ground running. In one way I'm successful in reaching my goal, but by the late afternoon I'm wearing out a path between my office and the typewriter in the staff workroom. Damn DLS annual reports. It's so frustrating not to have at hand the statistics I need.

I return home in time for supper. JoAnna's been doing some great meal planning, but it's only a matter of days until she throws it into my lap and all hell breaks loose. Maybe a scheduled divided among the three adults in the household is in order.

JoAnna's basketball game is postponed so we have a stay-at-home evening.

January 20, 1991

2012-01-20T09:00:00.001-06:00

My head hurts a little bit when I wake up. That's what happens when the sloshes around on a mostly empty stomach.

I spent a large portion of the day taping Motown music. I actually finish the project.

We watch the Bills clobber the Raiders and the Giants squeak by the 49ers.

Eddie is such a mellow little angel during the late afternoon. It's a much different story after supper.

January 19, 1991

2012-01-19T21:13:00.000-06:00

I'm up early. I can't sleep much past 4:00 and decide to get up and do something at 5:00. I resume the Motown taping.

We leave for Kenosha shortly after 10:00. Barb stays in Middleton, as I expected she would. Eddie sleeps during the entire trip, and Andy is content to spend most of the road trip with his books. He is an extremely good traveler.

Larry and Alice arrive more than an hour after us. We spend a very sedentary afternoon together, sitting around the living room, watching TV, and talking and admiring the babies. Christie looks to be about half Eddie's size, but she has ten times as much hair. We enjoy wine and a late afternoon dinner before our return trip to Middleton.

January 18, 1991

2012-01-18T12:17:00.000-06:00

I have more of an incentive to get it in gear this morning: a 9:30 meeting at the South Central Library System administrative office. Still, it does take a struggle. JoAnna, looking as though she has seriously questioned the need to get out of bed, helps me out by getting Andy dressed.

The Resource Contract Committee is productive. At the conclusion of the meeting, which extends past noon, we have identified all the necessary elements of what will be more than one contract.

On the way to Middleton, I stop on State Street for a recording that includes hard-to-find songs by Martha & the Vandellas and the Marvelettes: "Come and Get These Memories, "Quicksand", "Playboy", "Beechwood 4-5789. Nevertheless, I resume the Motown that evening, after a very enjoyable staff get-together at Sheila and Bruce's house. The pot-luck arrangement results in an abundance of food, which I sample sparingly.

January 17, 1991

2012-01-17T12:32:00.000-06:00

It seems I'm slipping back into my vacation schedule despite my best intentions to focus on the library. JoAnna's still home, and she enjoys sleeping in, which leaves it to me to get Andy out of bed, dressed, fed, and chauffeured to daycare. This morning found me as far behind since Eddie was born. I even call the library to let staff know I'll be at least an hour late.

After work I pick up the Nissan at Dunn's. After its two weeks of dead time in the driveway, how sweet it is to drive the car again. It runs beautifully.

For a second day in a row, JoAnna prepares a delicious supper and the four of us -- Barb, Andy, JoAnna, and me (Eddie is sleeping) -- sit down at the dining room table to enjoy it, with war news in the background.

I complete by taping of the Atlantic Rhythm and Blues anthology. I'm so intent on this project I basically tune everyone else out.

Keith's Magazine on Home Building: Having Individual Character

2012-01-16T13:25:00.000-06:00

January 16, 1991

2012-01-16T10:39:00.000-06:00

I wait around the house for the car to be towed. Didn't really have to, as it turns out.

The poor quality of the cleaning service takes up the majority of my time at the library. I composes a four-page letter to Don Gibson, owner of D & M Maintenance.

Sharon gives me a ride home, and I drive the van to Kids Play to pick up Andy since Jo's in the middle of fixing supper. I notice a disturbing announcement posted on the Puffin Room door: a case of scarlet fever has been verified.

After Jo's wonderful supper -- though I do complain that the spaghetti squash is slightly undercooked -- I listen to the war reports on CNN.. (Except for a map of the Middle East, there is no video.) Feeling extremely tired due to lack of sleep, I turn in early, before 9. I have to ask JoAnna to take a crying Eddie to another room to settle him down. I sleep all night.

January 15, 1991

2012-01-15T14:45:00.000-06:00

I volunteer to take Andy to day care since I need to buy a car battery. Russ Darrow has only low-maintenance batteries in stock, which means I'm not going to be able to do the easy switch as planned. The Stanza will need to be towed. Grr, grumble, grumble.

For a change of pace, I walk to the library but not home for supper. PDQ food tides me over until I get home at 9:30.

I have trouble falling asleep. I guess I'm just waiting for my turn with Eddie, and when Jo's done feeding him at 2 a.m., I'm more than happy to take over. While taping the Lovin' Spoonful, I stare at Eddie's angelic face, his expressive eyes, the "o" he makes with his mouth. He's such great company. He fusses momentarily before falling asleep, his head on my shoulder.

Keith's Magazine on Home Building: Good Old English Style

2012-01-14T12:56:00.000-06:00

The style lives on.

January 14, 1991

2012-01-14T12:02:00.000-06:00

It's after 11 by the time we leave Two Rivers. JoAnna doesn't offer to drive, and I make no fuss. The boys sleep, she reads, and I let my mind wander over an expanse of brain-cell terrain while cruising along Interstate 43 to Milwaukee. We visit the Broydrick office -- only Jeannie and Moira are there -- and eat lunch at a nearby arcade. By the time we get to the airport, we have a 45-minute wait before Barb deplanes. So begins a new and what portends to be a much different life in Middleton.

January 13, 1991

2012-01-13T13:36:00.001-06:00

I'd've much preferred to stay at home but no way was I going to bomb JoAnna's weekend mission: A trip to Two Rivers. Grandma Weier had a slight stroke a couple of weeks ago, and JoAnna is determined to see her and show off Eddie while her nearly 90-year-old paternal grandmother is still lucid.

We left the house at 9:00 and made stops for donuts and coffee before proceeding with the road trip. Eddie slept the entire time, and Andy dozed off during the last half hour. The radio -- oldies first and then football -- kept us company. Fortunately, the day was set up so we didn't have to make the rounds. We were able to stay put once we arrived.

Vacationland, Michigan

2012-01-12T21:13:00.000-06:00

From a 1955 issue of National Geographic.

LINK

1955 Chevrolet: Blue-ribbon beauty that's stealing the thunder from the high-priced cars!

2012-01-12T20:56:00.001-06:00

January 12, 1991

2012-01-12T08:43:00.001-06:00

Originally, I had thought, "Oh, great, a day off. Now I'll have a chance to read like I did during Christmas vacation." So what happened? The family went out to eat during the morning, trying out a new restaurant, the Coppertop, located just off Whitney Way and the Beltline. It's Eddie's first meal away from home, one that he sleeps through.

During the afternoon, JoAnna and I rearrange the guest room and I take the dead battery out of the Nissan and unsuccessfully attempt to replace it. I stop at the library to check out the Motown CDs that have arrived in delivery. I don't see the early, more obscure songs I'm looking for, the ones that will allow me to resume taping.

During the evening, JoAnna and I play two games of Casino before going to bed. We split.

January 11, 1991

2012-01-11T10:54:00.001-06:00

I take advantage of the snooze alarm and the radio's barely audible volume.

"Paul, it's 7:15," JoAnna announces.

By the time I get out bed, it's took late to do my exercises, and by the time I get Andy dressed, it's too late for breakfast. On the way to my meeting at the South Central Library System office, I stop at McDonald's for a drive-through breakfast.

At first, the discussion of the resource library contract is too abstract for me. Undoubtedly puzzles and perhaps concerned by my lack of participation, Peter Hamon puts me on the spot. It just takes me awhile to warm up. By 11:30 I have an opinion about everything.

On the way back to Middleton, I drop off Julie Chase at the Madison Public Library, negotiating streets made slick by a light but steady snowfall.

I didn't tell anyone at the meeting about my morning scare. JoAnna is changing Eddie's diaper. Andy is sitting on one end of the changing table. I'm in the bedroom dressing. Suddenly I hear a crash and JoAnna exclaiming, "Oh, no!" I dash into Eddie's bedroom. Andy and Eddie are crying and the top of the changing table is hanging at an angle. Fortunately, no one is hurt, but the possibility of injury still makes me shudder.

I keep busy for the two hours I'm at the library. With so many meetings lately and a busy home front, I feel as though I'm falling behind, especially as far as ETN presentations are going. Once my sister Barb is here, I may be able to work more long days than usual.

The early evening was spent in the family room, Andy monopolizing the VCR. The later evening, same location, but just Eddie and me. It took a lot of patience and two cuddling efforts to get him to fall asleep soundly.

January 10, 1991

2012-01-10T11:02:00.000-06:00

Billboard top 10 for week of January 5-11, 1991

Since Chris is on funeral leave this week, I attend the SCROLL meeting in her place. The Monona location makes it convenient for me to drop off Andy at daycare. The meeting itself is routine and surprisingly short. Stop at Pic-a-Book to buy the latest issues of Variety and Billboard as well as a couple of newspapers, and at Shopko to stock up on white socks. I eat lunch at home and then spend a progressively less productive afternoon at the library. A mild headache, stationed just behind my eyebrows, leaves me feeling disoriented. JoAnna has a great supper prepared when Andy and I return home. After the dishes are washed and I'm sacking out on the couch, Andy produces two oranges, and the idea of helping him eat them suddenly becomes very appetizing. Later on, JoAnna takes Eddie duty. He needs an hour of holding, walking, and rocking nowadays to fall asleep. It's exhausting, but at least it provides me with additional time for taping music.

January 9, 1991

2012-01-09T08:56:00.001-06:00

Andy needs a ride to day care. This is the thought riffing in my brain when I wake up. I'm also thinking a flatter tummy and reduced love handles, which gets me out of bed and into my exercise uniform.

JoAnna has supper ready when Andy and I return home, but it's not what I expect. She says the chicken didn't thaw. "Aw!" The frozen chicken Parmesan on noodles is a fine substitute.

January 8, 1991

2012-01-08T16:39:00.000-06:00

A long day. I leave the house at 9:10, which results in my being a couple of minutes late for the Advisory Committee meeting at the library system office. The 16mm films agenda item is thoroughly and at times heatedly discussed. Naturally, I have to put in my two cents. My flushed face tells me that maybe I oversold my point, but after the meeting Barb Huntington expressed her appreciation for my outburst.

I eat lunch at home, walk to the library, and get ready for the board meeting. The long-range planning discussion will need some ingredients to spice things up for board members. I worry about getting back to the information desk on what appears to be a busy evening, so I don't attempt to force or prolong the discussion. I stay in my office late, catching up on odds and ends and wondering why the carpet looks so speckly? Has anyone seen a vacuum cleaner?

January 7, 1991

2012-01-07T11:30:00.000-06:00

I get to the library early, shortly after 7. I'm only working a half day so I attempt to pack in as much as I can in four hours.

The rest of the day is devoted to child care since JoAnna attends the inauguration activities. It seems as though I spend most of my time changing Eddie. He must have wet a diaper at least once an hour. Andy doesn't take a nap do I have no time to myself.

JoAnna makes a brief appearance before going to the inaugural ball, which gives her a chance to nurse Eddie. By that time, he has finished what JoAnna had pumped.

Around 10, Eddie starts to get fussy. He's getting to be like clockwork in this regard. 45 minutes later he nods off. Despite the lack of a nap, Andy's still up at this time. Within 15 minutes, though, he falls asleep but Eddie starts fussing again. I get up but see through the window blinds the van's headlights approach the garage.

January 6, 1991

2012-01-06T11:18:00.000-06:00

The beat goes on.

At least the beat in my boom box. I keep recording at the rate of two to three blank tapes per week. Get into 1961. Finished up the British Invasion, a sure fave for months to come. Indulged in the guilty pleasures of Bread.

"Do you like bread?" JoAnna asked me, almost accusingly, halfway through "Diary".

"Oh, they're all right," Mr. Rock-and-Roll responds.

Eddie goes on his first shopping trip with the family...to Kohl's and Shopko. I buy a new desk lamp and a couple of exercise tapes.

After supper, the evening is spent sacked out in the family room, glued to the TV

January 5, 1991

2012-01-05T11:13:00.001-06:00

A five-inch snowfall postpones our trip to Two Rivers. I stop at the library to shovel the entrance and sidewalk. Where is Public Works? Guess I'll find out on Monday. In the meantime, I earned my comp time for Monday afternoon. The exercise was not just for my health.

Before returning home, I go grocery shopping. While JoAnna is at basketball practice, I play with Eddie. He's so alert and pleasant for about an hour. During the afternoon, I sack out on the long couch in the family room and nap for an hour, read the rest of the time. Andy wakes up from his nap and then falls back asleep on top of me. It's moments like these that make it feel so special to be a father.

Later in the afternoon, I try to start the Nissan but get no response. I continue to lounge through the evening.

January 4, 1991

2012-01-04T11:04:00.000-06:00

With less prodding than usual, Andy gets out of bed. He wants breakfast just as I'm ready to get him into the van .

"Andy, you can have a bag of Cherrios, but you don't have enough time to sit down and eat a bowl of cereal."

I arrive at the library at a few minutes before 9 and leave shortly after 3 so I can run some errands: cashing my check, buying a 1991 desk diary (which I hope that I will start using on a regular basis), searching unsuccessfully for a CD copy of Leon Russell's Carney.

I pick up Andy and he's a regular chatterbox on the drive home. We talk about buying ice skates and all the sports that he and Eddie are going to play together in a few years.

January 3, 1991

2012-01-03T10:56:00.000-06:00

I wake up shortly before six, feeling surprisingly rested, my hint of a sore throat remaining only that. Even though I don't have to drive Andy to daycare, I arrive at work at 9. I work on the board report and complete the fiction book order for January. The Area Leaders meeting is short, more of a preview of what we'll be discussing for the next few months.

I take a break during the morning to deliver the van to Russ Darrow for a tune-up. JoAnna and the boys follow me in the car. The cost to replace the side view mirror will be in the neighborhood of $150. I groan to myself on the drive home after picking up the van. I also pick up a pizza at Pizza Hut. Also M&M's at PDQ for dessert.

It's been a very uneventful, strangely unfulfilling evening. Let's play golf, let's play football, let's play basketball. Andy is always ready with a new activity, Dad with an excuse to sack out on the couch. We engage in some momentary horseplay. Now that Eddie provides some competition, Andy is so eager for my attention. He's still my Pumpkin Guy.

January 2, 1991

2012-01-02T10:49:00.000-06:00

The radio wakes me up at 6, but I turn down the volume and operate on my own snooze alarm. It's a cold morning and I'm in no hurry to throw off the covers. Andy takes a few dozen nudges to wake up. He eats a bowl of Cherrios before we leave. On the drive to daycare, Andy stutters as much as he talks. I make a mental note to ask JoAnna about this.

First thing I do at the library, after hanging up my beautiful new leather jacket, of course, is to make a pot of coffee. I go through my mail, attempt to organize my desk, and continue to add to the classic paperbacks order. With a light snow falling, I opt to drive instead of walk home for lunch, which I fix myself, but JoAnna has supper just about ready when Andy and I get home. Eddie has another pretty rough night, but I tune out the fussing.

January 1, 1991

2012-01-01T09:22:00.000-06:00

We bring in the New Year quietly, remaining at home for the entire day. The only time I venture outside is to retrieve the newspapers.

I become absorbed by the book I'm reading, Friday Night Lights, although an Alfred Hitchcock festival on WGN competes for my attention. JoAnna tunes in the Orange Bowl, but we both quickly lose interest in the game.

Eddie gets his first bath, recorded on video for grandma and grandpa. The four of us lounge in bed for awhile, Eddie wide-eyed and angel-faced, pumping his little arms and legs every now and then, Andy requesting that I put my book down and read Mother Goose rhymes to him.

Such a wonderful family. Now I don't want to stop at two. I want more children.

December 31, 1990

2011-12-31T09:11:00.000-06:00

As Andy soon takes over the family room with his videos, I move my boom box to the living room so I can do some taping. I also do about four loads of wash. During the afternoon, I watch Nickelodeon's countdown until it's time for us to go out. One particular episode of Bewitched has me in stitches. (A carved wooden figure conjured up by Endora causes everyone who comes close to it to speak his mind.)

We spend most of the evening at Barb Worcester's. I smash one of the van's side-view mirrors trying to negotiate my way around her building. Maybe it wsa the martini as much as the tight space.

Eddie sleeps through most of the night, and Andy is on his best behavior. We stop at Larry and Martha's on the way home. It's a crowded house party. JoAnna is in her element, which leave me to keep an eye on Andy. I gently squeeze her shoulder on my way to pick up our coats and announce, "It's time to leave."

December 30, 1990

2011-12-30T09:00:00.000-06:00

We all sleep in this morning. That is, I don't get up early enough to do any taping. I spend the morning reading the newspapers -- not much of interest -- and finish Hot Money, the first Dick Francis novel I've read. After lunch, I remember I have some pictures to pick up. The change in Eddie's appearance in less than two weeks amazes me.

We take down the Christmas tree, and once again the living room is returned to its pre-holiday configuration. I experience that vaguely melancholy feeling about the passing of the season and the imminent return of a regular schedule. Due to the nature of my Christmas vacations as an adult, I haven't experienced this sensation as strongly as I have this year since high school.

For supper, I eat an enormous amount of barbecued chicken legs and wings. Gin always whets my appetite.

Eddie has a rough night. He keeps JoAnna up most of hte night. Andy wakes up crying; he's wet the bed. Surprisingly, I wake up at 7:30 feeling refreshed.

December 29, 1990

2011-12-29T08:51:00.000-06:00

I wake up early and use a couple of solitary hours to record music. I spend the day reading, helping Andy with his United States puzzle while holding a cuddly little Eddie Guy, and playing Casino with JoAnna.

I get some fresh air during the afternoon scraping the ice off the sidewalk. I drive to the hardware store to buy three bags of salt and a new snow shovel, having irreparably damaged one while shoveling us out of a record snowfall earlier in the month. By late afternoon, JoAnna is complaining about cabin fever, so I suggest we play Casino. I'm still in the mood for four more days of seclusion at home. By next Wednesday, I'll be ready to go back to work.

December 28, 1990

2011-12-28T08:46:00.001-06:00

A change of pace for this leisurely week. I go to work. Surprisingly, Eddie get up without a struggle. I drive him to daycare, then myself to the library. It's a surprisingly busy day, but I find time to open and sort my mail, write an article for next week's newspaper, begin an order of classic paperbacks, and reserve a few CDs to satisfy my still-growling taping appetite.

Driving to Kids' Play to pick up Andy, I negotiate treacherous streets, which are being glazed by a freezing rain. JoAnna had supper ready when we return home. I hear nothing about a trip to Two Rivers. The weather precludes this weekend option. She wants to see her Grandma Richard before her imminent, it seems, death.

December 26, 1990

2011-12-26T08:38:00.000-06:00

Monday afternoon I do some last-minute Christmas shopping at Hilldale, after which I stop at the library and find a note from Mark regarding the heating system. So that's why I pay a visit to the library this morning, to follow up on this and order C-fold towels. Back home I finish reading The Joy Luck Club and start The Thief of Time. After lunch, I take a walk to the drugstore and Sentry. It's a long walk for such a cold day. I'm relieved to return home.

After supper, we have company. Eric and Cheryl stop by for a long overdue visit. Eddie is awake the entire time and is a complete angel, so contented, so lovable we don't even give our guests a chance to hold him.

December 25, 1990

2011-12-25T08:38:00.000-06:00

Andy comes to our bedroom first when he wakes up instead of checking under the Christmas tree for evidence of Santa's visit. Andy's abundance comes to an end, although he still checks the perimeter of the tree for more. The books on tape don't hold his attention as much as I want them to. Very quickly, he's planted himself in front of the TV. More videos.

I read, play with Eddie during his occasional waking time. We receive a mid-afternoon phone call, a woman's voice asking for Eddie. At first I think it's a wrong number, or maybe a joke, but then Kim identifies herself. The major news is that Barb plans to fly out here. Dad's not up for the drive. At 75, road trips are an unwelcome occurrance, no matter what the destination.

December 24, 1990

2011-12-24T10:55:00.005-06:00

Our guests have plans to leave early. Angela needs to be back in Manitowoc by mid-afternoon; she's participating in a church Christmas program, something that may never be in Andy's future the way his parents have been avoiding a religious commitment.

While Angela sleeps in and Andy watches videos, the adults sit around the dining room table, drink coffee, and talk. By late morning, it's a nuclear family holiday: Dad, Mom, and their two sons. It's a circumstance I want to last indefinitely. No work, co commitments, but with our paychecks rolling in on a regular basis.

We enjoy a leisurely afternoon on a cold, sunny day. We open our presents that evening. Andy has so much to unwrap. Jo gives me a beautiful leather jacket. She loves her (expensive) mohair sweater.

December 23, 1990

2011-12-23T10:48:00.000-06:00

The morning starts out typically: coffee, newspapers, relaxing. Then we wait for the arrival of company. Cindy and Mayra are first, but they don't show up until two, a couple of hours JoAnna's prediction.

It's a full house by midafternoon: Larry, Alice, Albert, Angela. After dividing our time between the family room and living room, I prepare dinner: ham, baked potatoes, broccoli, spaghetti squash, Caesar salad. We open presents afterwards. Andy and Angela hit 112 on the decibel scale, emjoying each other's company. Eddie's up late, but he still has a good night's sleep.

December 25, 1990

2011-12-23T08:37:00.000-06:00

Thursday, December 22 (A Meatball Disaster)

2011-12-22T14:17:00.000-06:00

Tuesday night I prepared spaghetti and meatballs for supper. As I’ve done dozens of times, I used Romaine Stanton’s recipe for meatballs from the St. Paul’s Lutheran Church cookbook. Perfect results every time.

Until this week.

“These meatballs taste different,” JoAnna observed after taking a first bite of one.

I had noticed the same thing. Not only was there an odd, impossible-to-specify flavor, the texture was off-putting, like a cross between a dense sponge and small, soft rubber ball.

Undeterred, JoAnna ate all three meatballs that I’d served up for her, but I couldn’t finish the first one.

“I’ve completely lost my appetite,” I sighed, putting down my fork and pushing my plate toward the center of the table. “What could have caused this disaster?” I continued. “I’m sure I didn’t forget any ingredients.”

I even double-checked the recipe to verify. A cup of cracker crumbs, ½ cup of grated Parmesan cheese, 2 eggs (beaten), 1 cup milk, and the rest of it. I retrieved the milk container from the refrigerator, took off the cap, and sniffed the contents. No sour odor. I had just purchased the cheese that morning – along with the pound of ground chuck. While mixing all the ingredients, however, I had noticed that the meat had seemed a little uncooperative, as though unwilling to mingle and tingle.

Romaine's page

“It’s gotta be the meat,” I said. “After all, it’s the main ingredient. It’s not the cracker crumbs that give them flavor.”

I purposely prepared the full recipe, which makes 24 meatballs, so we’d have leftovers – I was particularly looking forward to a sub sandwich on a French baguette – to get us through today as far as meal planning was concerned. So much for that idea.

As Tuesday evening progressed, JoAnna and I monitored our bodies for menacing rumblings, fearful that two cases of food poisoning might be on the horizon. Fortunately, everything remained calm.

Until yesterday afternoon. For JoAnna, anyway, when she found herself having to make frequent trips to the rest room at work. Once she returned home, she spent another 15 minutes in the bathroom, followed by an evening on the family room couch with a afghan wrapped around her.

Maybe it was a delayed reaction to the meatballs. Maybe it was just the slightest touch of the flu. Whatever the case, JoAnna felt 100% when she left the house this morning. Now, of course, three days before we leave for Paris, is NOT the time to get sick.

From now on, I think I’ll purchase all of our meat from Knoche’s Food Center and Butcher Shop, a still-surviving version of Foreman’s “little store”, just a 5-minute drive from our house. Its prices for meats – nothing is pre-packaged -- are very competitive, and they always have three or four specials going on simultaneously. As for everything else they have in stock, it’s best to shop elsewhere.

Related post:
(Not Swedish) Meatballs. (5/14/2009)

December 22, 1990

2011-12-22T10:35:00.001-06:00

I wake up early, before 5, and quickly decide that I'm too bright-eyed to go back to sleep. I spend most of the morning racing my eyeballs to the last page of Presumed Innocent. Did Barbara really murder Carolyn? Just now clever is Rusty?

While the rest of the family takes an afternoon nap, I go shopping. Sears provides a bonanza for Andy: two pairs of jeans, a blue sweat suit, and t-shirts. But no snowsuit. I walk to the other end of the mall and find no activewear for my wife, but on the return jostle, I find just what I'm looking for at Au Cotton. Suncoast actually has a post-natal exercise video.

On the way home, I stop at the library and expect to see a stack of CDs, but only one is on my desk. I don't even check it out. During the evening, it's TV and a half-hearted start at The Joy Luck Club.

Along the Allegheny River in Warren, Pennsylvania

2011-12-22T09:04:00.000-06:00

A series of photographs taken during a walk on a beautiful day in October 2008.

The new Hickory Avenue bridge with downtown Warren -- generally referred to as "over town" -- from Crescent Park.

The Bridge with the 400 block of Pennsylvania Avenue West in the background.

Warren sports a more modern look just east of the Bridge.

The bend of the river just west of the Bridge. Definitely a more timeless look within this frame.

The railroad bridge from the north side of the river, just west of the Bridge.

The bend of the river and the Hickory Street bridge from a vantage point across the street from St. Joseph's Catholic Church.

From the top level of the Clark Street parking ramp.

December 21, 1965

2011-12-21T12:23:00.000-06:00

After school on Wednesday there was basketball practice, which turned out to be my last. After practice the whole family went to Allie and Katharine's for supper. Paul Swanson's were there. I have to leave for my organ lesson at 7:45. After my lesson I went up to the high school since there was a dance. I must have danced 6 fast dances in a row with Sandy. I also danced with Judy Berdine and Bonnie Edison. After the dance I walked home with Mike.

This is the 1953 Chevrolet....

2011-12-21T11:39:00.000-06:00

December 21, 1990

2011-12-21T10:21:00.001-06:00

Andy and I skip breakfast so we can get to the hospital by 9. Within 90 minutes of our arrival, we're on our way back home -- the four of us. We stop at the library first so I can pick up my paycheck and show off Eddie. Andy and I spend the afternoon running errands. He wasn't too keen on going with me, but JoAnna wouldn't have it any other way. I pay our property taxes at City Hall, vacuum out the van, drive to the credit union to cash my check, and buy groceries for the holiday weekend. I spend the evening reading Presumed Innocent and enjoying the opportunities I have to hold Eddie.

December 20, 1990

2011-12-20T16:57:00.000-06:00

Despite my late bedtime, I'm unable to sleep much past 7. Andy sleeps past 8. I'm on a flexible schedule, in no hurry to leave the house. I fix us pancakes and scrambled eggs for breakfast and drive Andy to day care around 10. After a stop at Pic-a-Book to stock up on reading materials, I visit JoAnna. Both she and Eddie are doing fine. Except for a mid-afternoon walk to Taco John's, I remain in her room until it's time to pick up Andy. We return to the hospital immediately as I plan to use the basket of food JoAnna received from the hospital as the fixin's for Andy's supper. Jo's only visitor is John Dickert

December 19, 1990 (The Birth of Eddie Nelson)

2011-12-19T12:13:00.001-06:00

Sharon, despite the hesitation in her voice, is gracious enough to consent to our request. JoAnna and I arrive at the hospital shortly after midnight. My gut feeling is that we have a long day ahead of us, but how wrong I am. The intensity of Jo's contractions increase steadily. Once we're in the birthing room, I'm ready to crash but quickly realize that I need to be an active participant. I remember the head nurse who helped Jo with her breathing during Andy's delivery and use a face-to-face approach to guide her through her breaths. She nearly loses it worrying about the doctor's timely arrival, but she manages to hold and once she starts pushing it's a matter of minutes. I have a moment of concern when the head resembles a failed meat loaf, but then I'm not exactly sure what I'm looking at. Once the baby's head is visible, I see a look of determination that easily matches JoAnna's. Then there's a pause, and I feel there's too much blood. A few more pushes and the genitals are in view.

"Eddie's here!" I announce.

His skin and hair color appear to be much darker than Andy's intro into the world and initially his face seems plug ugly. For the next two hours, Eddie shows himself to be Mr. Mellow and as beautiful and healthy a baby as Andy was. While I'm holding him, I get the feeling that he hears me. The few times he opens his eyes, I swear I see a glint of recognition. Hi Dad! I was concerned that the birth of a second child would be a less emotional experience -- what first-born child wouldn't feel that way -- but the more I hold Eddie, the more I stare into his florid but perfectly formed face, a unique feeling of joy spreads through my body. As Eddie was being delivered, I was practically running in place. If only the camcorder had been set up to record the entire scene. Once I left the hospital, I felt the best thing to do was to avoid sleep. Once I shared the news with Greg, I informed Andy of his new status as big brother. His response? A negative one, but I wrote it off to sleepiness. He slept in until 8 and once he was awake wasn't convinced of the need to get dressed right away. We ate breakfast at Perkins and then visited Mom and Eddie. Andy proved to be a hyperactive chatterbox, but adorable nonetheless. He really is proud to be a big brother.

1953 Chevrolet: Why is it, wherever people travel, you see more Chevrolets than any other car

2011-12-19T11:39:00.000-06:00

Production figures for 1953

December 18, 1973

2011-12-18T13:00:00.000-06:00

Once again home again as I must continue to refer to it. When I am in Pittsburgh, I will occasionally call that home, but here is what the meaning of home is truly all about: a rug on the floor, a clock on the wall, comfortable furniture, immaculately kept rooms with nothing out of place. It is not really MY home, but "home" nonetheless, home because of the warmth given off and the people who inhabit it. I hadn't planned on leaving Pittsburgh this early. In fact, I had considered waiting until the 24th, which would have only given me extra time to work on my Billboard project and spend my evenings getting stoned and listening to music. Which reminds me that I never did fully complete my last entry. I became so involved with my post-graduate school plans and the lack of money that will accompany that time. Before I begin another tirade, let me find that lost thread.

December 18, 1970

2011-12-18T12:46:00.000-06:00

Ralph leaves for vacation, and I am relieved.

1954 Chevrolet: First in Its Field

2011-12-17T17:13:00.000-06:00

Glamorous Movie Stars or Famous Baseball Stars: You Make the Call

2011-12-16T12:30:00.001-06:00

I had a View-Master when I was a kid but spent my "pleasure-packed hours" -- more like a few dozen rather than hundreds -- looking at national park scenery and the like.

Baseball stars? Mom! Dad! How could you deprive me?

December 16, 1988 (Snowy trip to Two Rivers)

2011-12-16T12:20:00.000-06:00

Only two of us at the library during the afternoon. Slow enough day not to worry. Sheila's artichoke dip tides me over. Leave for Two Rivers at 5:30. I'm in a foul mood for the first half of trip. A light snow had fallen all day. Conditions are treacherous in patches. Windshield washer doesn't squirt. Andy's fussy and we have no raisins. Stop at Delafield exit for snacks, dinner at Hardee's. Arrive at 10:00, fifteen minutes after Andy falls asleep.

December 16, 1979 (Movies @ the Library)

2011-12-16T12:06:00.000-06:00

During the month of December, on consecutive Mondays, the Oshkosh Public Library has been sponsoring a Marx Brothers film festival: Animals Crackers, Horsefeathers, Duck Soup, and Monkey Business. Some extra money was left over in the programming budget so I decided to extend our usual Monday night movies another month with this miniseries. The attendance has been good but not as outstanding as I would have originally predicted. Oshkosh is not much of a movie town. It's even rubbed off on me. I haven't been to a recent theatrical release in over a year. Of course, much of that has to do with the poor quality of movies lately and the high cost of tickets. The Midwest has yet to hear of bargain matinees or of dollar movie theaters for second-and third-run features.

Yesterday's Marx Brothers offering was Duck Soup, my personal favorite of their ten or so films. Last week the audience roared its way through Horsefeathers; this week, although the audience appeared to enjoy the movie, the reaction was surprisingly subdued. Marx Brothers comedy relies heavily on the verbal interplay among the actors, especially in the scenes with Groucho. (The presence of Harpo allows the films to incorporate some inventive sight gags.) Perhaps the crowd was more in the mood for slapstick.

December 16, 1970

2011-12-16T11:49:00.000-06:00

Start reading again, Stranger in a Strange Land.

December 15, 1973 (A Dream)

2011-12-15T20:42:00.000-06:00

It was in the balcony of some auditorium. It could have been the old church, but the layout was not quite the same. I was ushering people to their seats. Denise Johnson was there and I escorted her to a seat halfway down the aisle. Each participant in the event or service was given a sleeping bag. Barbara Bruno came in while I was busy and seated herself next to Denise, to whom she was talking in the most strident of voices. I went down to give her a sleeping bag and ended up explaining to her how it was operated, where the zipper was and that kind of thing. I looked down to the main floor and sitting in a curved row of chairs was Val Franklin. There were two other people, both male, sitting with her, whom I did not recognize.

December 15, 1965

2011-12-15T20:24:00.002-06:00

Thursday morning I walked up to the high school. In English we had to read our limericks that we wrote for homework. Mine gave the class quite a charge.

December 14, 1999

2011-12-14T19:47:00.000-06:00

We have an infestation – although that’s probably overstating the actual conditions -- of little moths. About a month ago, we’d see these critters flitting around the kitchen. When JoAnna checked the cupboard where we store our cereals, Bisquick, and flour, she found most of these items to be contaminated. We threw out every open package, emptied the cupboard, and cleaned it thoroughly. Since then we’ve found the moths all over the house – in the bedrooms, the living room, the family room. They are always single sightings. Fortunately, they don’t travel in packs. The worst day was the Friday of our card party, which the moths blessedly decided not to show up for, saving us the embarrassment of having to give an explanation to our guests. Since then, we haven’t seen too many of them. I asked the Orkin guy this morning during his monthly visit. (We’ve stuck with an indoor and outdoor spraying program ever since a major ant infestation a couple years ago, which quickly eliminated the problem. The one time I considered dropping the service, the ants started to show up again. I’d swear they were on the Orkin payroll.)

In fact, there was even a moth attached to the ceiling of the hallway, which I pointed out to him, having refrained from killing this evidence when I first spotted it a half hour before his arrival.

“You’ve got Indian meal moths,” he quickly diagnosed.

I told him how we had addressed this problem.

“You did the right thing,” he said.

He suggested we monitor things for a month and, if conditions don’t improve by then, said we might want to consider a spraying of the interior of the cupboards. I hope we can avoid doing that.

At the library today, I found a book entitled Pest Control for Home and Garden that had four pages of information under the topic of “Pantry Pests”, where the Indian meal moth was featured. What I read here confirmed what the Orkin guy told me: dumping and cleaning first, chemicals as a last resort.

Now you’ll never want to visit us, thinking we live in a roach motel! I would like to know how these moths got into the house in the first place.

December 14, 1980 (Letter to Michael)

2011-12-14T11:48:00.000-06:00

Michael Kanter and Tony Szczygiel, on the occasion of Tony's marriage to Andrea Szalnaski.

The post office keeps returning all the letters I've written and mailed to you. I just can't figure out this mystery. Every letter is stamped "undeliverable" to the point where the return address is nearly blotted out. In fact, the last letter was returned with a note scrawled on the reverse of the address side of the envelope: I wouldn't deliver this piece of mail with a ten-foot pole. It sounds like you're planning to stiff your letter carrier again this year. Haven't you heard of the holiday spirit -- of greed on earth, goodwill to me? This time I'm going to tape a ten-dollar bill to the envelope -- think that'll be enough? -- to insure delivery. Next year, though, you're on your own.

Even though it was a very brief reunion, I enjoyed the opportunity to see you and Elizabeth again. Your gray hairs were quite noticeable. I hope you plan to do something about them. I know a certain individual -- think he goes by the name of Ronnie, some airhead who's the latest rage in Washington -- who could probably give you a few pointers.

Seriously now, what are your plans for the Cambridge store? Personally, I'd like to see you become involved in a less tension-producing pursuit. Since I plan to be around for awhile, I'd like to have certain good friends of mine do likewise. No matter that the reunions are becoming too infrequent.

During the past month, I've started to look at my surroundings much differently. I haven't been able to pinpoint the source of this transformation. Perhaps it's just a logical and natural personal development. Oshkosh has been very good to me. I have a job that I enjoy and am excelling at and I've formed some very close friendships. When I study the situation more thoroughly, though, I realize that I don't want to be just a librarian for the rest of my life.

I also see that the activities my best friends and I are involved in are leading us nowhere as far as any intellectual gratification or fulfillment is concerned. We drink a lot of beer, we smoke a lot of dope, we party a lot -- mindlessly, as if we're stumped about how else to spend the time -- and we play a lot of cards -- sheepshead, mostly. It's good for a lot of laughs, but I'm finding myself becoming rather bored. I look at the people I hang around with -- mostly couples, interestingly enough -- and see very few signs of ambition or adventure. It's getting to be the same old shit. Too predictable.

Lately, I've attempted to make myself somewhat scarce without arousing any suspicion. ("What's the matter, he's too good for us all of a sudden?") I've started to tackle some more ambitious writing projects, outside of the usual journal entries and correspondence. Yesterday I mailed a 900-word essay to the Chicago Tribune using the recent publication of The Collected Stories of Eudora Welty as a jumping-off point. It's not a book review. More like musings on the state of the short story in American literature. The Tribune prints a weekly column on its editorial page for which it solicits essays form its readers. What have I got to lose, I figured. At this point in time, I really needed a small project for which I could discipline myself.

Less than a week ago, I began writing a short story, somewhat autobiographical and based on a recent incident in my life that helped to lead me to this present re-evaluation. I foresee problems with the ending, but so far I'm quite pleased with what I have written.

Enclosed are a few prints from some slides you might enjoy. Keep them. I had extra copies made. The wide-angle lens makes a bit of a difference in normal picture-taking. Hello Elizabeth, Kathy, and, ah...what's the status on the new arrival?

Keith's Magazine on Home Building: A Bungalow of the Western Type

2011-12-14T10:05:00.000-06:00

Antique Home Style.

California Bungalow Architecture.

Seattle, the 21st century bungalow city.

December 13, 1979

2011-12-13T17:29:00.001-06:00

Barb arrived home yesterday evening quite late. It must have been close to midnight. At the time, I was reviewing the prints in my photo album again. (How many times do I have to marvel at what a darling little boy I was?) Immediately I sensed something was wrong. Even though I never saw Barb before she shut herself in her room, I knew a black cloud was hovering over her. When I awoke the next morning, it had not dissipated one whit. What I should have done is ignored her and simply gone about my business of preparing to leave for work. Instead I had to egg her on subconsciously. I talk to her because I hate to see her in such a mood, yet I realize my words only serve to antagonize her.

All day long I replayed our morning conversation. At one point, I contemplated a firm approach, which basically would consist of a demand to move out and interact with other people on a personal, day-to-day level. It occurred to me that living with an older brother might be emotionally and psychologically crippling for her. I considered this approach frequently last winter when Barb's roller-coaster moods were at their most uncontrollable. It's pure fantasy, though. I'd never have the courage (or stupidity) to make such a bold and heartless declaration.

When I returned home from the library, Barb had dinner (and an apology) waiting. Enchiladas. I knew it! As long as I maintain a fair and level-headed position in all matters affecting my relationships with others, I need not worry about the temporarily erratic behavior of those dear to me. Barb realizes that she acts irrationally whenever she allows the pressures in her life to overwhelm. To be able to recognize such a fault is an indication that progress is being made.

The two beers that accompanied my supper left me feeling extremely lethargic. Why not give this evening over to completely kicking back, I asked myself. Another stunning defeat for will power. I rolled a couple joints, fed the Charlie cassette into my music box, and browsed through the most fascinating book I have encountered all year: Edsels, Luckies, & Frigidaires: Advertising the American Way. The book is copiously illustrated with examples of classic advertising covering a period of one hundred years. Being in a rather stupored state of mind, I had to postpone reading any of the text. This is a book I'd love to purchase for my personal library.

December 12, 1973

2011-12-12T12:16:00.000-06:00

I'm sitting here not knowing whether to write or shiver. Yesterday Mike arrived to spend a few days. When I awoke I felt decent except for a slight sore throat. During the morning I drove to Squirrel Hill to do some shopping. Back home I read while waiting for Mike to arrive. I had to work for part of the afternoon, so Mike accompanied me. I felt giddy the entire time and noticed a flu sickness coming on. At 4:30, I told Mike I needed to take a short nap. Walking home, I was raped by the wind. I felt as wispy as gossamer. Back in my room, I fell to the bed and wrapped the blanket I had retrieved from the car around me. It was the blanket from Atlantic City and there was still sand in it. Mike started to read, but I knew he must have been bored stiff. Before I mentioned that it would best if he just left, Mike himself made the move. There was no other choice.

I was out of it for the rest of the night. I was physically unable to raise myself. As much as I wanted to change my clothes and put on my thermal undershirt and crawl underneath the covers, I just could not motivate myself. It was similar to the feeling that a heavy acid trip gave me, the mind and body totally spaced-out and magnetized to a certain sound or visual. The flu trip, though, is an agonizing one, while the acid trip is usually a joyful one. I remember the time I was sick in February of my junior year at UB. The day the sickness really hit me, I made the decision not to attend classes. My twelve "free" records arrived from Columbia and the sickness has wearied me to such an extent that I couldn't make the effort to listen to any of these new albums.

Mom called me about 8 and that seemed to take me out of a drifting course toward sleep. At least the call made me feel bereft of a much-needed and longed-for sleep. She instantly knew I was ill from the sound of my voice. She called me since I haven't written in some time. Doubtless, she felt guilty for calling me when I was so intent on getting some rest, but then how many times do I retire at 8PM. Eight AM has been my bedtime more often than eight PM over the past few years.

At 9 I resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn't be getting any sleep for awhile, so I did some reading. At 4:30 I was awakened by some hammer-like pounding coming from #5, that fucking weird person Milo. He was making frequent trips up and down the hallway, walking with what sounded to be a slight limp. Earlier in the evening, someone had knocked on my door, but I had been trying to sleep and didn't feel like getting up to answer. Maybe it was Milo, but what would he have wanted. Making all that noise at 4:30 in the morning convinced me that it must be attention he is craving.

December 12, 1965

2011-12-12T12:06:00.000-06:00

After school on Monday there was basketball practice. I couldn't do much because of my toe. (Saturday night I limped all the way home in agony because of the pain.) I told Mr. Shantz about it and he took a look at it. I had to give my toe a whirlpool for about 10-15 minutes. After supper, Dad made arrangements for me to see the foot doctor. He was the same one that I went to before. He cut away some dead skin and taped up my two little toes.

December 10, 2004 (The Mosaic Stained-Glass Jesus, Part 2)

2011-12-10T17:56:00.000-06:00

The Mosaic Stained Glass Jesus, Part 2.

On Wednesday, I received a phone call from the person who had previously complained to another staff member about the “Christian iconography” in the library.

“You mean the stained glass Jesus,” I clarified, trying not to sound smart-alecky.

The caller, who identified himself by name – Ken Green – right up front, prefaced his concern with a glowing and detailed assessment of all aspects of the library: the staff, the collection, the level of service, the furnishings, the adjacent parking lot, and both the interior and exterior design of the building itself.

“Your facility doesn’t even have the feel of a library,” he noted somewhat cryptically, without offering any further explanation.

He sounded like a movie critic reviewing his all-time favorite film.

Hearing such fulsome praise about the library, though, made me prepare myself for the other shoe to drop, as the saying goes. Most people are content to say, “You have a wonderful library,” and leave it at that.

Mr. Green then offered what I considered to be a fallacious analogy: the placement of the Ten Commandments in Alabama state judicial building by Chief Justice Roy Moore.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see any comparison at all,” I countered. “That was one item on display that the judge had tried to make a permanent exhibit. The piece of art in question here is part of a larger exhibit that includes a variety of themes. There are pictures of a tiger, 2 German shepherds, a Mexican scene, and even something abstract – although it looks like it might be the rays of the sun. And by the end of the month, all of these items will be gone. It’s just a temporary exhibit. In fact, all of our exhibits are up for no more than a month or two.”
Mr. Green wasn’t buying my explanation.

“But you’re promoting a particular religion,” he insisted during his voluble response.

“Just because there’s a picture of Jesus in the library doesn’t mean we’re promoting Christianity,” I replied. “We’re not promoting tigers or German shepherds or Mexican landscapes. We work with the Madison Art Guild and other group to allow artists the opportunity to display their work at the library. It has no direct bearing on library service.”

I’ve encountered this argument before. Some people – a very small minority, fortunately, most of whom live outside of Middleton’s service area – feel that libraries are promoting abortion or witchcraft or teenage sexuality when books on these and other hot-button topics are found on the shelves. Ideally, library collections are developed to contain all points of view on a particular topic, not by the personal views of the librarians, though I’m sure that’s not always the case. As a colleague of mine often states, “Libraries should have something to offend everyone.”

Our phone discussion continued for another ten minutes, with Mr. Green becoming increasingly exercised by my unwillingness to embrace his rather extreme points of view. He launched into a spirited defense of the separation of church and state as set forth in the U.S. Constitution – at least as he interpreted it. The more revved up he become, the more difficult it became for me to hold up my end of the dialogue. Our conversation had turned into a one-sided diatribe. Whenever I managed to express my opinion, he would recklessly paraphrase the words I had just spoken.

“So you’re saying…..,” he would assert.

Time for me to bring this phone call to a close, I told myself after he did this a third time.

I quickly came up with what I thought would be a good exit strategy.

“I think what I should do is call the city attorney and get his take on this issue,” I told Mr. Green.

“What’s his name?” he quickly shot back.

Reluctantly, I gave it to him, as well as the phone number at which he could reach him.

Not surprisingly, Mr. Green seemed eager to continue our debate. I was on the opposite end of that spectrum. Using great restraint, I managed to break our connection without having to hang up on him, though I’m sure I left him in a ranting mood.

As I replayed this phone call in my mind, I had the distressing feeling that he wasn’t done with us yet.

I received an unexpected phone call on Thursday afternoon, a few minutes before the start of my reference desk shift.

The woman identified herself and the organization she represented: the Anti-Defamation League in Chicago.

I immediately discerned the reason for her call. Mr. Green had obviously lodged a complaint with them.

“We were informed that a statue of Jesus has been put up in the lobby of the library,” she explained tentatively, as if embarrassed by the absurdity of this report, but feeling a need to check it out anyway.

“Let me assure you. It’s nothing like that,” I responded with a chuckle in my voice.
I then gave her my measured version of events, which she received with an audible sigh of relief. The woman, whose name I’ve forgotten, mentioned that she is from the Madison area and is familiar with the Middleton library.

“It sounds as though you’re well within your rights,” she summarized.

I’m sure nothing will convince Mr. Green that this is the case. At this point, I’m almost eager for him to call me again, just so I can gloat. Rest assured, though, that I’ll refrain from expressing that emotion and conduct any further business on a professional level.
I found some interesting information on the Anti-Defamation League’s website. Recently, there has been a discussion on a library listserv to which I subscribe about the appropriateness of Christmas trees in libraries. One librarian asserted that Christmas trees are “overt displays of particular religious significance.” Not so, according to the information provided by the ADL, in a series of guidelines entitled “The December Dilemma”.

In the context of displays on public property, the Supreme Court has ruled that a Christmas crèche standing alone is impermissible, but a Christmas tree is permissible because it has become such a secular symbol of the winter holiday season. It also has found that a Chanukah menorah is a symbol with both secular and religious meanings, and its display on public property within a predominantly secular display is permissible.

Each year, the City of Middleton has a Christmas tree lighting ceremony on the first Sunday of December, an event that the more politically correct City of Madison studiously avoids. We’ve never had a tree in the library, though. In fact, we don’t make any effort to decorate for the season. It seemed to be an unwritten rule that was already in place when I started to work here in 1986, and I’ve never had any reason or inclination to challenge it. When I lived in Oshkosh, the Friends of the Library purchased a huge tree and placed in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows facing the front entrance. One year we even had carolers as part of the “unveiling” program.

December 10, 1979

2011-12-10T15:47:00.000-06:00

8:00 Eight hours of sleep is more than enough. Read Strangers in the Land, p. 77-96.
9:25 yoga. David Grisman Quintet
9:45 set up book shelf in front of my bedroom window. Breakfast
10:30 Happy the Man
10:55 Shower, dress for work
11:05 Four Tops Greatest Hits
11:30 Leave for work
1:00 Deliver radio spot announcement to radio stations. When I return to the library, Shelia asks me the day's date. I had signed out the van for Monday, the 17th. Tom had already signed it out for 1:00 p.m. today. He was not pleased.
3:00 Gloria and I compose a letter to Jim Coughlin to recommend the formation of a committee to study a more equitable approach for a county-wide library levy.
4:30 Haircut. Walk to Tortilla for dinner.
7:00 Susie and Jackie are at the movie, Shall We Dance
9:30 Four Tops Greatest Hits. Letter from Dan.
10:20 Flash and the Pan. Write notes on some Christmas cards.

December 10, 1973

2011-12-10T15:21:00.001-06:00

Last night when I was working in the library, Dr. Kryzs asked if he could speak with me. Adjusting to the surprise with various thoughts of what he might have to say, I walked with him to the tables by the periodicals. He then showed me these notecards on which he had started to list ideas for ways in which to revamp his course. We talked about the improvements that had taken place in the course after the midterm, the fear of certain students about the professor's possible vindictiveness, and the biased nature of the evaluations themselves. He seemed sincere in his efforts to institute change into the course structure and that impressed me tremendously, especially the fact that he would approach me with his tentative changes. The term has proven to be a see-saw experience with this man.

December 9, 1981

2011-12-09T15:32:00.000-06:00

I sat down and looked Dick directly in the eye.

"Dick, how much longer do you plan to stay around?"

That led off a bizarrely interesting hour conversation, the conversation that I fantasized about dozens of times. We discussed the dress code incident, which I was introduced to at my first department head meeting, telling him his handling of that fiasco led to a damaging and irrevocable loss of trust and respect. We discussed his "chatterer" qualities. Dick confessed to being lonely: Genie works a different shift and most weekends to boot; Gregg is in his own apartment now; Thomas is extremely busy with his various high school activities. I can't really sympathize. Springfield provided me with all the loneliness I could handle, but I put the time to constructive use.

Colored Lights

2011-12-09T15:16:00.000-06:00

Bare Tree

2011-12-09T15:14:00.002-06:00

Sports Center Update: Prius 5, Matrix 1

2011-12-09T15:13:00.000-06:00

Christmas in the Neighborhood

2011-12-09T15:11:00.000-06:00

December 8, 1999

2011-12-08T19:56:00.001-06:00

Jerry Bancroft Tim Albaugh

I found three connections to the class of 1968 in recent issues of the Times-Observer. Tim Albaugh was arrested for a DUI offense. It sounded like he might have fallen asleep with the motor running outside of where he lives on the south side. For some odd reason, when I try to remember what he looked like the last time I saw him, which was probably at graduation, Jerry Bancroft comes to mind.

Rodney Seymour’s mother died. I had forgotten that they were members of St. Paul’s. I can’t picture Rodney ever attending church; neither can I remember his presence in confirmation class. In fact, I can’t remember much about him – who he hung out with, who he dated, where he might have worked after school – except for his slightly rotund appearance. I don’t remember him participating in any high school activities, not even attending any of the many dances that took place in the exhibition hall.

Mel Jacobson’s son got engaged. The announcement referred to Mel as “Skip”, a nickname he never had in high school. Back then he was known as “Punky”, the origin of which is a complete mystery to me. It’s funny, the husband of a former library board president is named Melvin, “Mel” for short, and he looks just like I imagine Mel Jacobson might look today.

December 7, 1973

2011-12-07T21:31:00.000-06:00

Grayce and Bev

What a night! Where do I begin, so much has happened. Will I get it all down and will I carry through? Yes, yes, yes, I must. This time it is of the utmost importance. It cannot be only the quantity of wine that has made me feel bold, but rather the injustice that has been directed against my word. Yesterday I found evaluation forms in my mailbox with a note from Mary Ellen. They were for Kryzs' class and were to be handed out and collected by me. As I was passing out the forms, Kathy Reithmueller asked me if Dr. Kryzs would see them. I told her no, they would be going straight to the office where they would be complied and then made public. Kryzs agreed to my passing out the forms and left the room for 15 minutes. Tonight I learned that after class Kryzs plowed up the stairs to the office and demanded to see the evaluation forms. I should have been able to predict this from his initial remarks upon returning to the room. I am really infuriated at his lack of cool. His unethical behavior roused me into action. However the confrontation might have gone, I had the entire weekend to cool off; consequently, the incident was pretty much brushed aside, although Forsman was there to spur us on at the moment of frantic call to arms.

When I should have been staying around after class to observe Kryzs' actions, I was nestled in the otherworld of Mrs. Hodges' office practicing music for the evening program. That went on for nearly an hour, after which time I walked home, called AAA for a jump, wolfed down some lunch, and drove my car (once revived) to the VW garage on Allies Blvd. to get a new battery installed. I did spend some time in the library later on. I talked with Grayce for awhile and we giggled a lot as we always do whenever we're together. Like silly grade schoolers, but it isn't as ludicrous as it sounds, considering the scholastic environment we have been placed in.

December 7, 1965

2011-12-07T21:14:00.000-06:00

Tuesday after supper I had to be back at the high school at 5:45 since there was a basketball game at Youngsville. I was tired when we travelled to the game; I felt like sleeping. I started in that game, but that didn't last long. I didn't score any points for the night. We won 49-28 and the varsity won 61-49. I got home at 10:45 and before going to bed, I had quite a bit to eat.

Keith's Magazine on Home Building: A House for All the Year Round

2011-12-07T20:55:00.000-06:00

American Foursquare

Do You Like Shrimp?

2011-12-06T20:05:00.000-06:00

I received an unexpected phone call earlier this afternoon. After extracting my iPhone from a pants pocket, I first glanced at the screen, surprised to see EDDIE displayed.

He probably wants to ask me about getting a haircut sometime this week, I guessed.

“Are you busy right now?” he opened.

“No, I’m just checking my email,” I said. “What’s up?”

“Could you give me a ride home? The bus to Middleton doesn’t leave until 2:30.”

“Is there something you want to pick up here?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

“I’ll explain later,” he replied, as if concerned that one of his roommates might be eavesdropping.

As I drove to his apartment, I played a variety of scenarios in my mind, all of them having to do with a disagreement among or between roommates, some of them not directly involving Eddie.

Maybe two of his roommates aren’t getting along for whatever reasons, and he just wants to escape the tension this rift is causing.

Naturally, I preferred this story to one in which Eddie is the culprit.

Eddie’s calm demeanor led me to discount any serious breakdown incivility among the group of four friends. He hadn’t sounded particularly disgruntled or aggrieved during our phone conversation. No quavering voice. No repeated sighing.

That’s because there's an element of bizarre humor to his story.

Mike, one of his roommates, has been eating a lot of shrimp of late, which he stores in a small refrigerator of his own that is kept in the shared living area of the apartment. For reasons that no one can fathom, the refrigerator now gives off a most foul odor.

“Imagine what it’s like to like in a place that smells like a rotting whale,” Eddie explained.

I didn’t ask how him how he learned to recognize the odor of a rotting whale.

Perhaps I wasn’t listening as closely as I should have been or else Eddie was a little scattershot in the telling of his story, but it took me awhile to put all the pieces in place. At first I thought he was referring to the regular kitchen-sized refrigerator that is furnished with the apartment. Then I assumed it was just the interior compartment that had turned stinky, at which point I was going to suggest the use of a box of baking soda. Wrong on both counts.

“I even used some Lysol and cleaned out the refrigerator yesterday but the smell is just as bad as ever,” Eddie noted.

I assumed this activity took place while Mike was out of the apartment.

At the halfway point of our drive home, I abruptly gestured for Eddie to stop talking.
“I swear, I caught a whiff of the smell of shrimp right now,” I exclaimed. “Your story has me imagining things.”

Keeping one eye on Midvale Boulevard, I reached over with my right hand and grabbed the hood of the sweatshirt Eddie was wearing and pulled it to my nose.

“Maybe I should wash this thing when we get home,” I suggested. “I think it’s carrying a hint of shrimp."

Initially, Eddie, Ben, and Nick thought some good-natured kidding would help Mike to understand the need to take action, but he has either become oblivious to the problem or simply refuses to acknowledge it.

Shortly before Eddie and I reached home, he received a text message from Nick and chuckled while reading it.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, wanting to be in on the joke.

“Nick says ‘the apartment smells like death straight up’.”

“Whoa! I can see why you want to spend some time away,” I said.

A roommate meeting is scheduled for sometime this evening. As far as Eddie, Ben, and Nick are concerned, the only solution is for Mike to get rid of his refrigerator. And to impose a ban on shrimp.

I look forward to a full report later this evening.

Oh, and while Eddie was hanging out in the family, watching Law & Order reruns, of all things, I washed and dried his hooded sweatshirt, along with a few other items that had accumulated in the laundry basket.

December 4, 1999

2011-12-04T20:26:00.000-06:00

I got into an organizing mood on Saturday morning, starting out with Andy’s closet – or, the closet I share with Andy is the more accurate way of stating it. Before he was able to use his Playstation game on Friday afternoon, I told him he had to clean up his room. His main method of cleaning: He had transferred most of the clothes that had been strewn on the floor to the various levels of the shelving unit JoAnna and I had installed in this closet years ago. Once I had his sweats and jeans and shorts and sweatshirts in neat piled, I showed him my handiwork and asked that it stay in that condition. Aren’t I a dreamer!

Then I tackled the closet in the hallway between the kitchen and garage, where I keep a lot of my “junk” and where all our board games are stored. I rearranged, moved to other areas of the house, or simply tossed out various items, and, in the process, freed up quite a bit of space for more “junk” – or more board games, in case we decide to go that route.

The boys and I went to the St. Nick’s breakfast around 10:00. I was in the mood for scrambled eggs, but the menu included ham, french toast sticks, and applesauce. A children’s choir sang, and then a girl about Andy’s age played Christmas carols on her clarinet. She did a very good job. There were various activities for children, but the only thing that the boys participated in was the cookie decorating. We stayed about a half hour. JoAnna worked until 11:30.

The afternoon was lowkey. Rex was over for awhile, and then Andy went over to his house. JoAnna napped. I did some laundry, wrapped JoAnna’s birthday presents, read, watched a little TV. Nothing strenuous. Later in the afternoon, JoAnna and Eddie and I went to Border’s to buy some books, one of which was a gift for the guest of honor of a party we were attending that evening.

December 4, 1986

2011-12-04T20:01:00.000-06:00

Take the day off. Read the papers. Update geography notebook. Bus to Capitol. Lunch with JoAnna at Bauman's Deli. Visit to Marina condo. Walk along State Street alone. Visit University Book Store. Photocopies at Madison Public Library. Roses. Ride home. As I expected, dress is not JoAnna, but others three are well-received. West Towne. Peppino's. The Honeymooners on TV.

A Friday Evening On the Town

2011-12-04T15:18:00.000-06:00

The ~~holiday~~ Christmas tree in the Capitol rotunda.

West entrance to the Capitol.

State Street at dusk.

East Campus Mall

Dinner and a play.

Oatmeal Doesn't Have to Be Boring

2011-12-04T15:10:00.000-06:00

With brown sugar, sliced banana, cut-up raspberries, and walnut pieces.

December 3, 1973

2011-12-03T17:23:00.000-06:00

Sue and Michael convinced me to sing with them in Mrs. Hodges' Christmas program for the GSLIS party this Friday night. I wonder if Foster will want to go. Nothing like getting sucked into something, but now that I have committed myself to this, it should be interesting, especially since the number of participants seems to be constantly growing.

My car needs a new battery. The cold weather is sapping all of its juice. When I went to start it this afternoon, the engine struggled to turn over. I don't want to keep calling AAA for a jump. Why didn't you get jumper cables, you stooge? Yes, I know, the money was better spent on an album. There is no way I'll make it through the winter with my present battery. I remember someone telling me those exact words. It must have been the guy at Hudson's garage in Falconer.