On This Date in 1998

This has been a long and busy week for me, a comparatively slow one for JoAnna, and a regular five-days-at-school week for the boys. Monday was the only day I spent at the library from start to finish. I did have one unexpected interruption, though. Right around noon, I received a phone call from the school nurse at Elm Lawn. Andy had left his classroom a couple times during the morning to lie down on the cot in the nurse’s office, complaining of a headache and stomach ache. He said the noise in the gym during his lunch period was too much to handle. He didn’t feel like eating either. I took an earlier than usual lunch hour and brought him home. When I picked him up, he didn’t look that sick. He didn’t act sick. In fact, he was unusually talkative, very animated, actually, which aroused my suspicions. I warmed him up a bowl of chicken noodle soup and gave him a couple aspirin before returning to the library, leaving him stretched out on the couch in the family room. I told him to keep the TV off, but I’m sure that directive was immediately ignored as soon as I backed the car out of the driveway. That evening he showed no sign of illness. In fact, he acted just like his favorite Atlanta Brave: chipper. I started to wonder if maybe his alleged sickness was a scheme to avoid some school activity. I shared these thoughts with JoAnna while we were sitting at the kitchen table and the boys were in the family room.

“I’m not faking,” Andy bellowed.

Mom and Dad found it interesting that son #1 felt he had to eavesdrop on our conversation.

I was bothered by the fact that he missed a basketball practice, which I don’t think was part of his plan. I wondered if I should contact his teacher to get her perspective on the day. Was there some special afternoon activity that Andy missed? I decided against this investigation since I don’t want to have his teacher think that his mom and dad don’t trust him. For JoAnna and me, though, Andy’s behavior was very puzzling. This is just a preview of his teenage years, I’m sure.

I worked a long day on Tuesday, having morning and afternoon meetings, plus early evening time at the library to catch up on some office work: email, email, organize papers on my desk for the rest of the week. JoAnna had a 9 p.m. interview with Tammy Baldwin’s campaign staff. She’s in the running for the home district coordinator position. Tammy is our newly elected Congressional representative. JoAnna feels that she’s ready for a job change. If she isn’t offered this job, she’ll continue to look for other opportunities. I think she tired of butting heads with her current boss. We’ve always got along well socially with him, but he has a reputation as a very difficult person to work for. Very demanding, which is not a problem for JoAnna. Very hands-on, unwilling to delegate responsibility, which irritates JoAnna to no end. And I don’t blame her. I’d feel the same way if the Middleton Public Library Board was always looking over my shoulder, questioning my every move.

I presented a workshop Wednesday morning at a Waukesha County library, about a 90 minute drive from Middleton. It went extremely well. In fact, it produced a big spike in my confidence in the possibility of freelance continuing education as a fulltime career option. I knew my presentation was well-received when four women from the Brookfield Public Library tried to convince me to apply for the director's job. Their library board has had no luck over the past seven month trying to fill this position. Brookfield, an upscale community of 35,000 that borders Milwaukee County, is a larger library as far as staff, square footage, and collection size is concerned, but its level of use is comparable to Middleton's. Naturally, I was very flattered by their overtures, but I have no interest in changing jobs right now. Moving to Waukesha County, Wisconsin's Republican paradise, would certainly not be a good career move for JoAnna.

If I was smart, I'd take advantage of my renewed confidence and develop a plan to get into the workshop business fulltime as a consultant. For Wednesday's three hours of work, I received $300 plus mileage. Of course, that doesn't include preparation time, which, when factored into my honorarium, would bring my hourly rate much closer to what I earn at Middleton. But even $50/hr. is twice what I make now.



On the drive to and from the workshop, I listened to the book on tape version of Helen Keller's The Story of My Life. Considering what an historical icon she is, I was surprised, and a little bit humbled, at how little I knew about her and her teacher, Annie Sullivan. Her life is certainly an inspiration to everyone, not just those with disabilities. I reserved a copy of the video The Miracle Worker, a visual account of the early relationship between Keller and Sullivan, as played by Patty Duke and Anne Bancroft, respectively, who both won Oscars in 1962 for their performances. Surprisingly, it's a movie I've never seen.

My Tuesday and Wednesday schedule required that I leave the house at 6:30. Before my Tuesday meeting, I had scheduled a 7 a.m. tune-up for the Saturn (30,000 miles after 2 1/2 years, the 1.000 miles per month average boosted by the three or four trips to Pennsylvania). Wednesday, of course, I had to get an early start so I'd be at my workshop venue in time to set up. (Organize my notes on the lectern, position the overhead projector so that the image is clearly visible from every chair, mingle with the group to help create an informal atmosphere. ) Usually, I'm the one who gets the boys off to school, JoAnna oftentimes on her way to work before th3e boys are out of bed. I almost felt guilty transferring this morning responsibility to her, making her leave for work later than usual. I kept telling myself, though, this is an unnecessary reaction. The election was two weeks ago. (Sometimes I think I'm too considerate a husband.)

Thursday was taken up with a staff meeting and a city department head meeting, the latter now a welcome and regular part of my work schedule. Middleton's new city administrator has really stirred things up in a positive way. His enthusiasm and vision have given me another reason to stay put. Thursday was JoAnna's busiest day of the week, her schedule extending into the late evening. She took Eddie to his Cub Scout meeting and then attended a play with some of her caucus staff. I tried to stay up until she returned home, simultaneously reading a book and watching movie on TV (the second half of Magnum Force, Clint Eastwood's second appearance as Dirty Harry; the first hour of Kiss of Death, a 1948 crime melodrama starring Victor Mature and introducing Richard Widmark in a wickedly evil Academy Award nominated performance. I was asleep when JoAnna returned home at quarter to 12. I attempted a conversation but I'm not sure how coherent I was.



I spent most of Friday at the WLA office, attending meetings of the finance and personnel committees. I walked into the house at 3:30, minutes after Andy returned home from school, feeling that I deserved an early conclusion to the work week. Andy had basketball practice from 6:00 to 7:30. JoAnna went out after work to celebrate Ron's new job as a lobbyist. (Ron is Julie's husband. Julie works for JoAnna. Ron and Julie are part of our sheepshead group.) We could smell JoAnna as she walked into the house. Her clothes and hair reeked of cigarette smoke. Eddie demanded that she change her clothes, so she got into her pajamas. I picked up McDonald's for Eddie after dropping off Andy and Riley at basketball practice. Although JoAnna would probably object, I don't have a problem leaving Eddie home along for less than an hour. He knows that he's not supposed to pick up the phone, answer the door, or use any of the appliances. I find it interesting that, when everyone is in the family room, for example, and it's dark outside, he's reluctant to walk to the other side of the house by himself. But he always insists that he's OK being home alone.

On the way home from practice, Andy and I stopped at two places to fill our dinner orders. Mom wanted Chinese. The guys wanted Mexican. JoAnna felt chilled and went to bed early. I decided to write this letter and let the boys watch TV until 11.

On This Date in 1998

Eddie and I are going to spend the evening at home since he isn’t in the mood to attend the high school football game. I’m content to stay in myself. I worked an abbreviated schedule today – from 8:30 to 2:00, no lunch – as I had a series of errands to run and rides to provide that would take up most of the latter half of the afternoon. Cash my check. Refill Eddie’s Ritalin prescription. Pick up Andy and drive us to Best Buy to pick up a birthday present for his friend Tim. (I allowed myself the indulgence of buying 2 CDs for myself, the first time this year I bought any new – or old music. Dale and Lar might also enjoy and music on Urban Hymns by the Verve and Great Divide by Semisonic. ) Return home so Andy can change into his football uniform. Drop him off at the high school football field, where the orange and white Oriole teams will be playing against each other in a short scrimmage during the halftime of the sophomore game. (The high school also has a freshman team, so there is no junior varsity, per se.) Buy stamps and mail a stack of bills at the post office and drop off the water bill at city hall. Pick up three pirs of slacks at the cleaners. Pick up Eddie at After School and then return to the high school football field where the scrimmage in already in progress. I decided not to buy $3 tickets for a series of plays that will be over in a few minutes. From a distance of 70 yards, it’s hard to tell what is going on. After Andy’s teams poses for pictures (for what purpose, never did learn), the boys and I return home via McDonald’s drive-through. Before Andy can chow down his McNuggets and French fries, I have to drive him back to the high school where the 5th through 8th grade band members will be practicing for their pregame show. (It’s a homecoming weekend.)

JoAnna just left for the game a few minutes ago. She and some other people will be distributing candy while Jon Erpenbach, our state senate candidate and hometown boy, greets the crowd. (Jon is a 1980 graduate of MHS.) 
Tomorrow, as you’ll learn in a later report, is going to be an even more hectic day. Right now I’m a paragraph or two away from sacking out on the couch and starting a new book.

I spent Wednesday night in Two Rivers with Larry and Alice since I was conducting a workshop at the Manitowoc Public Library Thursday morning. Larry talked about his latest health problems. For most of this year, ever since an afternoon of bowling during a visit in Florida with Bud (Alice’s brother) and Shirley (Larry’s sister) in February as he pinpoints it, he has been bothered by arthritis. During his worst attacks, he is practically immobilized; he can barely move around with crutches. He’s taking medication, which seems to make his face puffy. Either that or he’s put on some weight this year. Alice seems to be doing well. She hasn’t smoked a cigarette since New Year’s Eve and here I thought she wouldn’t last in a smokeless environment through the spring.

The two main topics of my workshop were conducting a reference interview and integrating electronic reference sources into the library reference services program. The library system, headquartered in Manitowoc, is the smallest one in the state, but 20 people attended. The visit also provided me with an opportunity to see Wisconsin’s newest public library, a 52,000-square-foot facility in a downtown redevelopment area just a stone’s throw from Lake Michigan.

When I picked up Andy at school yesterday, after he completed his duties as a school crossing guard, I almost didn’t recognize him. I watched a strapping young lad emerge from the school and walk toward the car. He wore a red polo shirt with a school band logo, the style of shirt having a lot to do with his more mature look, with shiny black knee-length gym shorts. His calves have the well-developed shape of an athlete’s. His short, dirty-blond hair stuck out of his head like nubby sunbleached quills. He carried his trumpet case in his right hand, and his walk exuded a sense of confidence. Of course, I knew it was Andy all along, but he seemed to have climbed a few rungs up the ladder to maturity all of a sudden.

I feel the same sense of pride and wonder observing Eddie. I accompanied him to his Cub Scout meeting last night. He looked so assured in his navy shirt and orange scarf. When I look at pictures of the boys from three or four years ago, I never fail to be amazed at the changes that have taken place. If it weren’t for all the pictures we have, I’d probably have trouble remembering the boys when they were toddlers. When I do the math for 11 times 2, that is, Andy when he’s twice as old as he is now, I want to slam on the brakes and let the engine idle in neutral for awhile. I wish our lives weren’t on the fast track so often.

April 14, 1992

TIME

Part 2 of my Reference Interview ETN goes well, but I don't get the class participation I was expecting.  After last week's burst of enthusiasm, most of the students I call on are not prepared to participate in the discussion of the homework assignment.  I walk away not disappointed with my presentation, but, again, really questioning the effectiveness of the ETN format.

I linger through lunch at home, not in any hurry yet to get to the library.  My only busy moments are when I continue to work on Christine's evaluation.  A long board meeting includes my performance evaluation, which is superlative.  I stay late to write up the minutes but leave at 10 before I finish the task.  Everyone's asleep when I get home.  I carry Andy to his bed, then catch the baseball scores before dousing the lights.  I'm happy to learn that the Yankees lost their first game of the season.

Wednesday, December 18, 1991

Wisconsin State Journal, 12/18/1991

The alarm is set for 5:30, a half hour earlier than usual, due to the fact that I need to be in Appleton by 9.  I make it there with an hour to spare.  I'm disappointed to find the Casbah restaurant closed, so I settle for breakfast at Burger King.  College Avenue, to my horror, is a shell of its former self.  The Grand Chute mall has certainly sucked most of the life out of downtown.  

The reference workshop goes very well.  I really zip through my material with confidence.  I stay for lunch, hitting the road at 2, and take a detour through Oshkosh to press a few memory cells.  I remember how many times I saw the same views from the seat of my bicycle.  Once in Madison, I stop at the credit union to cash my honorarium check, then unload the six boxes of books at the library.  JoAnna wants KFC for dinner but I want to change and have a martini first.  I take a few sips and then stash the glass in the freezer while Andy and I make the trek to KFC.  The Middleton store has nothing ready, always a problem at this location.  I can't resist making a few disparaging remarks as we leave.  The store on Mineral Point Road is loaded with chicken.  

We have a dinner party in the family room, something we would have never done with  Barb, god forbid, still being here.  JoAnna crashes early, and once again Andy and I stay up to watch Green Acres.

November 6, 1991

Tuesday night I fall asleep during Green Acres and sleep soundly until 2:30.  Then I toss and turn until 4:15, when I get out of bed and sit on the throne for 20 minutes desperately attempting to evacuate my bowels.  I shower, dress, skip breakfast, and hit the road by 5.  Driving condition in town are great, and the expected deterioration on 151 east of the Interstate never materializes.  I make great time, arriving in Green Bay shortly after 8.  I drive around the downtown area looking for a place to eat breakfast and discover an unassuming little corner cafe.  I order two eggs over easy, American fries, and ham and leave very little on the plate, even though I worry about how an appreciable intake of food will affect my bowels.  Worst case scenario:  having to interrupt my presentation because the gusher forming in my bowels threatens to explode at a most inopportune time.

Actually, the day goes very well.  Perhaps I spend a little too much time on policy during the a.m. session.  I'm also a bit unfocused and rambling during the reference interview "short subject".  But what I hear at lunch time is that people wish I had been scheduled for the entire day.

The afternoon is much less interactive.  They don't  even care to take a break, but I suppose I should take that as a compliment.

On the drive home, I take state route 54 to U.S. 10, then the scenic route through Menasha, Neenah, and Oshkosh.  I think about stopping at Mr. Cinder's for supper, but I'm so tired, all I want to do is get back home as soon as possible.  A visit to Dave and Lynn's or the Roxy is not even considered.

I stop at the library to drop off the books and am in bed and asleep by 9.

June 11, 1991

I'm up at 5.  When I stop at the library to pick up the boxes of books, I'm surprised to find all of the lights on and even more surprised to find a young black man asleep on the floor in the staff lounge.  I turn off the lights in the public area of the library and surprise the hell out of Lorenzo, who appears to be just starting his cleaning duties -- surprise, surprise, surprise -- but I don't ask the reason why.

I take the Interstate to Janesville and then drive east to Elkhorn through Delavan, a community with a real Norman Rockwell look and feel to it.  Arriving an hour early, I have plenty of time to walk around and look for place to buy a newspaper and a restaurant.  I sit with it over a cup of coffee.

The workshop goes well, but I occasionally feel lost and a little too obviously disorganized without my transparencies.  I have no screen to use.  For me, the 2 1/2 hour workshop passes quickly.  \

I have lunch with Peggy Schaffer and the director of the Elkhorn library, whose names escapes me and whose size rivals Mama Cass.   The restaurant we select is housed in an old hotel building. It's a Chinese establishment, and I find the food -- I order the broccoli with scallops -- much too salty for my taste.  Before leaving, Peggy asks me if I'd be interested in doing a workshop on children's reference this fall.  But of course!

I take an alternative -- U.S. 12 -- back to Madison.  By the time I drop off the books, I have to pick up Andy at daycare.

The board meeting goes very well.  I receive very positive responses and constructive suggestions to the draft of the long-range plan.  We meet for 2 1/2 hours.

May 23, 1991

Where are my keys?  I search the house.  I even call the motel in La Crosse where I stayed Tuesday night.  In order for me to be able to get to my destination, JoAnna has to send me her car key by cab.  It arrives shortly after 9, which still gives me plenty of time to reorganize my boxes, drop off a couple of hats at daycare, and set up the books for my presentation at Madison Public, which goes well and fills up my allotted 90 minutes.  I take a stroll down State Street to run a few errands before returning to Middleton.  I have three extra copies of my car, house, and library keys made.  I buy JoAnna an anniversary card -- but no gift.  No time right now, I say to myself, I can do it tomorrow morning.  The afternoon at the library is spent playing catch-up, organizing my desk.  JoAnna has an evening meeting, so I do laundry -- at least what Barb hasn't already done.  She even mowed the lawn.

May 22, 1991

I'm conscious one-half hour before my scheduled 6 a.m. wake-up call.  I felt a need to program my mental alarm clock.  Amazing what the mind can do upon request.  I walk to a downtown restaurant called The Pancake House, buying a couple of newspapers out of vending machines along the way and inexplicably order a huge breakfast.  I eat barely a third of the monstrous omelet and leave a plate of potatoes practically untouched.

Today's workshop goes extremely well, due in large part to the small size of the group.  I start of confidently, perhaps a little too much so, which means I probably came across a little too dry and humorless.  I received very positive responses -- and at least six handshakes -- at the end of the day.  Kathleen and I take the same route back to Madison.  I sometimes find it difficult to keep up end of the conversation going and was content to stare out the window and admire the springing-into-green Wisconsin landscape.  At the library, I simply unload the boxes of books and leave the reorganizing of them until tomorrow.  A big Bombay martini is my reward for a very productive and gratifying day.

May 20, 1991

I get up at 5:30. OK, it's closer to quarter of by the time I'm actually out of bed.  I treat myself to breakfast at the Original Pancake House and then wait for Kathleen's appearance at the parking lot next to the UW Student Union.  She's late so I go ahead and transfer the boxes to the room on my own.  She seems rather harried when she first appears.   Darlene introduces to a roomful of workshop participants -- 50, count 'em, 50 -- after making a pitch for continuing education certification, the master's degree program, and whatever else she can squeeze in.  Then I do my thing.  I feel very much at ease throughout the morning portion of the program.  During the lunch break, I walk up State Street with a much more noticeable bounce in my step  I feel as though I've done the best presentation possible.  I walk to the credit union to cash my mileage check for the May 2nd Merrill workshop, then pick up a sandwich and a bottle of tomato juice at Botticelli's before a visit to JoAnna's office.  Sally's there and offers the use of my wife's desk to eat lunch, which I gladly accept.  Barry and JoAnna return shortly after my arrival.

The afternoon session is not as satisfying.  Perhaps unloading the boxes and displaying the books face out on the table would have promoted a less jerky presentation.  The evaluations, though, are very positive:  20 excellent, 17 good, 3 average, 1 fair, and 0 poor.  I even consider incorporating a specific suggestion into Wednesday's La Crosse presentation.

I pick up Andy at daycare, drive to the library to drop off the seven boxes of books, and check on the progress of the parking lot project (na-da), and leave Andy alone long enough to make him think I've abandoned him again.  I catch up with him in the lobby and quickly comfort him.  He must have sprinted all the way from the children's area to the exit.  

May 2, 1991

May 1, 1991

I decide to meet with the Timeline Planning Subcommittee of the Automation Task Force after originally planning to skip it.  We have a very productive session and I'll be on top of things next Thursday.  As quasi-Chair, I need to be fully informed about all developments.   After the meeting, I stop at the Sugar Shack to look for albums or tapes with selected songs from 1969.  My taping project is on hold until I can find "Ramblin' Gamblin' Man" by the Bob Seger System.  Score!  I stay at the library until 8, organizing the boxes of books I'll be using for tomorrow's workshop.

April 22, 1991

I can still start the week with a high level of enthusiasm.  Maybe this is the main reason why I haven't updated my resume.

I begin the day in my usual fashion, composing a column for the Times-Tribune.  I use some of the information I gathered for the library profile.  With Liz taking the afternoon off, I spend most of the day at the info desk.  I don't give any attention to my ETN notes since I am starting to worry about how well my workshop next week at Merrill is going to come together.  I pick up Andy at daycare.

April 18, 1991

I'm not quite frantic -- not yet anyway -- but I'm starting to wonder when I'm going to have the time to prepare a bibliography for the workshop I'm giving in another two weeks.  An informal Area Leaders meeting takes up more time than I expect, i.e., had planned for.  I grab a quick (late) lunch at Burger King.  The BK Broiler is a fairly decent sandwich.

With JoAnna away, Andy and Eddie keep me busy all evening.  Both stay up past 11.  I put Eddie down in his crib three times.  Each time I leave to return within five minutes to soothe him.  I finally settle him down in the rocking chair.  Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth......zzzzzz.  Finally.  Andy's watching Looney Tune on Nick at Nite when I return to bed.  I allow him to sleep with me.

April 10, 1991

For the second morning in a row, I find no time to exercise.  I leave for Janesville at 8, arrive at the library 45 minutes later.  Karen makes a brief appearance before the start of the workshop.  I test a new program, "Writing Collection Development Policies", and it appears to go very well.  Most of the 14 participants willingly share their comments and ideas!  Rose Mary and I go to lunch afterwards.  I cruise back to Madison feeling very pleased with myself, grooving on my 1971-72 road tape.  It's been 20 years since those wild and occasionally irresponsible days. 

Before returning to the library, I stop at Best Buy to purchase blank tapes and camera film.  No Savoy Brown CDs are in stock there.  I don't have much time to get into anything, but I do start the fact sheets that I promised for the board.

March 13, 1991

An MS/DOS workshop at the Wisconsin Center allows me to volunteer to drive Andy to daycare, since JoAnna wants to get an early start on her workday.  The workshop is a disappointment, not nearly as intensive as I hoped it would be.  I walk with Jan Jensen to State Street.  Back at the library, I put some serious time into my lecture notes for next week's ETN and next month's collection development workshop.  At 5, I go into a mild panic when I mistakenly think I somehow deleted all my revisions.  Much to my relief, two hours of  intense brain cell activity do not go down the tubes.  I stay at the library until 7:30.