Our Motto
"There's nothing you don't want to know"
The first major newsworthy event of the year has to do with what some might say was a long overdue haircut.
Friday, February 2
After more than seven months since his last one, Eddie finally decided it was time for a haircut. I’m sure he would have arrived at this conclusion much earlier if he’d been cursed with thin, Nelson hair. As you can see from the “before” picture, his thick head of Richard hair gets poof-y as it grows.
Increasingly, he had found long hair to be an annoyance.
“I have to spend so much time in the shower,” he recently complained.
And his bangs had to be interfering with his vision – although this moptop style is a common sight. More than half of the high-school-aged boys who bag groceries at Copps sport this look.
After dropping Eddie off at Great Clips, I ran a few quick errands. Upon my return, I noticed only one 
person sitting in a barber’s chair, his neck, ears, and forehead clearly in view.
Omigod! Eddie really went the distance, I silently gasped.
He’d been unclear to how much he wanted to shed.
“Do you recognize your son?” asked the woman who performed the shearing.
Eddie looked at me for confirmation, as if to say I did the right thing, didn’t I?
“I have to admit it’s quite a transformation,” I said, my attention focused on a large pile of Eddie’s hair on the floor.
Complete with the return of his Dumbo ears, though I didn’t publicly note that observation.
Now that Eddie has worked off the “baby fat” in his face – and the rest of his body, for that matter – his newly chiseled features will make him look handsome no matter how he chooses to wear his hair.
“I wonder what kind of reaction I’ll get at school,” he contemplated, obviously pleased with himself and expecting positive reviews.
“Your mom is going to be very pleasantly surprised,” I predicted, proceeding to mimic her jubilantly enthusiastic reaction. (Which was right on the money!)
Eddie gave me a follow-up report as soon as he returned home from school (and his late-afternoon conditioning session) on Friday.
“I’m amazed at how much everyone likes it,” he beamed.
That’s because people can better see your handsome face, I could have responded. But I didn’t want to give his ego too big of a massaging.
Andy called me on my cell phone as I drove back to Middleton from a WLA legislative committee meeting yesterday afternoon.
“Where are you?” he asked.
I told him.
“When are you going to be home?”
“I don’t know. I have a few stops I need to make along the way.”
“Can I have money for a haircut?” he asked.
“So you saw how good Eddie looks in short hair?” I teased.
“Dad, I really need a haircut,” he pleaded, missing my playful tone of voice. “I hate it when my hair gets long.”
At most, it had grown to cover not quite half of his ears.
But indeed, Andy, cursed with thin, Nelson hair, has always preferred to keep it short.
“Don’t you have any money of your own?” I asked
“No,” he replied brusquely.
Does that mean he has no money in his checking account -- he has a debit card – or is he just being cheap? I wondered.
Since Andy was scheduled to work at
“Tyme Machine” Dad coughed up a $20 bill, and Andy went on his way. At t his point in the morning, I have no idea if he got a haircut. I tend to avoid Great Clips during the late afternoon/early evening as there’s usually at least a 30-minute wait.
Hopefully, Andy will keep that $20 tucked away in his wallet for a subsequent trip.
Then there was our spring break trip to Springfield, Illinois, and St. Louis, Missouri.
Friday, March 23
Road trip!
These two words still conjure up a sense of anticipation and excitement for me – particularly when the destination is a new one. I feel like an explorer looking for additional territories to claim and conquer.
I’ve had this travel bug for as long as I can remember. I’m sure all the cross-country trips I experienced as a very young child – none of which I can remember – caused the infection, though that hardly seems the appropriate word to use. And for the past 50+ years, I’ve never cared to be inoculated.
Our plan was to leave early yesterday evening. Knowing that Eddie would be the last one to return home, I took care of one of his last-minute duties: cleaning the kitty litters. Boxer’s took me all of 15 seconds to complete; it looked untouched, though that turned out not to be the case. Jack’s litter box, on the other hand, required an extra piece of equipment. I couldn’t break up what had become a solid clump just using the plastic scooping-and-sifting device. I went to the garage to retrieve a scraper – the tool we use to remove ice from the sidewalk and driveway. That’s how hard Jack’s litter had become.
Maybe it’s time to get Jack a new litter box, I thought.
The only selection at Walgreen’s didn’t have high enough sides. Jack sometimes kicks up a dust storm before relieving himself. The only other option, Mounds Pet Food Warehouse, located on the opposite side of the Beltline in Middleton, was closed due to a power outage, which also affected the traffic lights in this area, not to mention (as we learned later) the houses in the development where Gretchen and her family live, three miles to the west. As it was the middle of rush hour, I was lucky not to get stuck in traffic.
You don’t really have to be doing this, I chastised myself, particularly since our late-afternoon schedule didn’t provide me with much flexibility.
Sometimes, though, JoAnna’s and Eddie’s inattention to the needs of the cats really irritates me.
“You need to call the vet about Jack….soon!,” I urged JoAnna when she called to report that she was on her way home from work. (Far from the first time that I’ve made this demand.)
I then briefly described my little misadventure without sounding too overbearing. I didn’t want to dampen the family mood on the start of our road trip.
I imagine that Gretchen will have an intimidating task facing her on Saturday when she stops by the house to check on the cats – and take in the mail and newspapers.
It shouldn’t surprise anyone that I became the designated driver. JoAnna sat to my right and the boys were in the back, just like the all-American Ward Cleaver family. What continues to puzzle me is how I can have two sons who have no enthusiasm for highway driving. (In Eddie’s case, no interest in driving at all, it seems.) I would have guessed that at this point in my life, I’d have to fight for the privilege of driving – that I could be a passenger whenever I pleased. Funny how things don’t turn out as predicted sometimes.
Less than five minutes from home, Andy’s cell phone rang. It was Gretchen, of course, and for the next few minutes they jabbered back and forth, a totally superfluous conversation. But this is just the perspective of an aging Baby Boomer, someone who has yet to fully embrace this not-so-new-anymore technology. In fact, it still feels like a novelty whenever I use my cell phone.
“Andy, do you really need to have this conversation right now?” JoAnna asked in exasperation.
There were more than a few moments during the trip when JoAnna and Eddie and I felt that Gretchen was actually with us.
Driving after sunset, the radio tuned to a station playing music from the 1970s, I might have convinced myself that absolutely nothing had changed during the past 35 years. Outside of the fact that my wife and two sons were with me, the only reference points were the highway signs, the fuzzy dots of lights on a flat and broad horizon (I-39 south of Rockford is a desolate stretch of highway), and music that was popular during the wanderlust period of my life.
At the halfway point of the evening leg of our trip, we stopped at Delaney’s Family Restaurant in
As far as our orders were concerned, we went 3-for-4 in the customer satisfaction department. My Philly cheese steak sandwich tasted slightly better than adequate, even though a portion of the roll looked to have been five seconds from getting scorched. JoAnna’s reuben looked thin and plain enough to pass for a standard grilled cheese and meat, but it still met her road-food standards. Eddie ordered a Western burger without the ham. (The barbecue sauce was the main attraction here.) Andy found his plate of chicken wings lacking in flavor, but he ate most of them anyway. He also made a trip to the extensive salad bar, his plate laden with mostly mayonnaise-laced selections.
Once we left the restaurant, we sprinted to the car to avoid getting wet. The onset of rain didn’t come as a surprise, as we had observed regular flashes of lightning, some of them quite spectacular, across the entire southern horizon. Much to my relief, the rain stopped within fifteen minutes.
We arrived at our
Not that it made any difference in our late-evening plans. We all got ready for bed shortly after we checked into our room.
None of us experienced the most restful night’s sleep. Andy was especially restless. Every time he moved, it sounded as though he was trying the break the bed apart. Poor Eddie. It must have been a bumpy night for him.
I woke up at
The view through out motel window was not pretty. A bruised gray sky. A steady rain. A puddled parking lot.
“At least our plans are to be inside today,” I noted, although we had hoped to do some walking to the some of the
Our first stop was the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Museum, a very impressive facility that opened to the public on
Journey I begins with a reproduction of Lincoln’s childhood log cabin home continues through his pre-Presidential years, most notably a trip to New Orleans where he allegedly saw a slave auction and his years as a lawyer and legislator in Springfield.
Visitors enter a scale model of the White House South Portico to begin Journey II. The first exhibit is a display of dresses worn by Mrs. Lincoln and her rivals. The rest of this gallery space p
rovides an overview of
Ghosts in the Library is a 15-minute holographic film, shown on a specially designed set, that very effectively explains the purpose of the Lincoln Library. It almost made me want to apply for a job there. Lincoln’s Eyes, shown in its own theater, is a 17-minute multi-screen, special effects presentation, complete with strobe lighting and booming sound effects, that tells 
be presented.
Our impressions? Simply stated, the four of us agreed that it was one of the best historical museums we have visited.
Although the sky was still gray when we left the museum, the rain had stopped, which allowed us to proceed with our plans to visit other historical sites in the area.
The old state capitol is just a block away. Construction of this beautifully restored Greek Revival building began in 1837. Because of its close association with 
ismantled and rebuilt to allow for the inclusion an underground public parking garage and space for the Illinois State Historical Library. Although the exterior is still original, the interior was completely reconstructed, but, except for the electric lights, you might think otherwise. Looking into the various rooms from the spacious central hall – the Supreme Court, the legislative room, and numerous smaller offices – you get the feeling of having been transported back in time 150 years.
“I just don’t want to go there,” he insisted.
Instead, we started to walk in the opposite direction, along a route that would lead us to the Lincoln Home. The next thing I knew, though, JoAnna and Eddie had made a detour into
“Why are you buying popcorn now?” I asked, with obvious irritation. “We’re just about ready to eat lunch.”
“Dad, take a chill,” Eddie advised. “We’re on vacation.”
As we continued our walk, a restaurant across the street caught our eye. A protective entry awning stretched from the side of the building to the edge of the street, like something out of an old 
Maldaner’s has been in business since 1884. The rich, ornate interior design makes you feel as though you’ve instantly stepped back into time. Dressed very casually, the four of us probably felt a little bit out of place at first. The majority of customers seemed to be local businesspeople dressed for important meetings. We were made to feel welcome, though, and, as it turned out, were very glad that we stayed. Eddie made the best choice and ordered what an older, impeccably dressed gentleman at a neighboring table was eating: the meat loaf special, served with mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans.
“I have to learn how to make this kind of meat loaf,” I said after savoring a sample. (Eddie allowed just one very small one per customer.) The flavor and consistency of the recipe was out of this world. It made my moist, flavorful chicken salad sandwich almost pale in comparison.
Our lunch turned into something of a smorgasbord, as we all sampled everyone else’s entrée. JoAnna ordered crab cakes (with curry sauce, baby mixed greens, papaya salsa) and Andy’s club sandwich (French bread with bacon, ham, turkey, lettuce, tomato, & mayonnaise) is something I could eat on a daily basis and never get tired of.
If we ever return to
The final stop on our
It’s a quick 90-minute drive from
We were pleasantly surprised by the spaciousness of our suite: living room, kitchen, two bedrooms, and two bathrooms. Constructed as part of a downtown urban renewal project in 1965, the building was originally an apartment house, one of three identical, 29-story, black-glass-clad structures. (The other two buildings are still apartments.) From our location on the 17th floor, we had a panoramic view of downtown
Our hectic sc
hedule provided us with very little time to unwind. Within fifteen minutes, we were on our way to the Edward Jones Dome, home of the St. Louis Rams, for the semi-final games of the NCAA Midwest Regional basketball tournament. The Dome is a five-minute walk from the
Less than half of the available space inside the Dome – seating and playing areas – was used for the tournament. The facility seats 70,000 for football, its designed purpose. The announced attendance for Friday’s two basketball games was just under 26,000.
Since we didn’t have
After a very long and eventful day – the Oregon-UNLV game didn’t end until after
One of the ground rules that JoAnna and I set for the boys during our trip was that they couldn’t sleep in past
On Saturday morning, JoAnna and I were up more than an hour before the boys. We walked to a nearby convenience store and purchased some food to have on hand in our room: cereal, milk, fruit, crackers, popcorn. We also stopped at Downtown Donuts for two cups of coffee and a bag of the featured attraction.
Even with the
We walked to
Andy's first prom
Wednesday, April 25
The
“I really look good in it,” he said immodestly, adding that the pinstripes make him look slimmer. (I’ll let you be the judge with the pictures I send.)
Thanks to Gretchen’s marketing skills, the tux rental was free. Ten of the 10%-off coupons she distributed were redeemed. Each referral reduced Andy’s cost by 10%. The kicker, though, was that Andy had to pay $49.95 for the tie he’s wearing. And I’m sure the Men’s Warehouse marked it up at least 500%.
Oh well, it’s still a good deal. The last time I rented a tux, for Governor Doyle’s first inaugural, I paid close to $100. And I chose the basic black model with no frills – and certainly without a frilly shirt.
Sunday, April 29
The first time Andy called me this weekend, he had just left the house for Gretchen’s. I was to follow him 15 minutes later to take pictures, along with the rest of the parents, of their prom party.
“I forgot the corsage,” he announced. “Be sure to take it out of the refrigerator before you leave.”
The “Straushaus” is located in Prairie Home Estates (shades of
Walking through the front entrance and a small reception area, you enter a family room around which most of the rest of the house is arranged. There’s a large kitchen with an oversized counter space to the right. A format dining area is located to the immediate right of the reception hall. A formal living room, probably never used, is to the immediate right. Stairways lead to the upper and lower levels. The high ceiling of the family room gives this area of the house a spacious feel, although the rest of the first floor (what I saw anyway) is designed on a more intimate scale, surprisingly so based on the house’s impressive facade. The family room is framed on three sides by a railing on the upper level, which adds to the feeling of openness. The “upstairs” is where the four
child
ren’s bedrooms (and 3 full baths) are located. A recreation room – plus laundry and storage, I imagine – is located on the lower level. (For some reason, I can’t bring myself to call it a basement.) A master bedroom suite is “tucked away” on the first floor. Although I didn’t see this space, I’m sure it takes up as much square footage as half of our house.
While the girls finished primping, Margaret, Gretchen’s mom, pointed out to me who was whom. I found it interesting that she referred to all of the other parents as “
Outside of Kurt, Gretchen’s dad, who spent the first 15 minutes after my arrival continuing to work on the construction of a deck (which he hopes to complete in time for Gretchen’s graduation party), I was the only dad in attendance until we moved outside for a second series of pictures.
Installation of new carpeting in the family room.
Saturday, May 5
To say that I was obsessing over this weekend’s major project would be an exaggeration. It was frequently on my mind, though, which is probably why I couldn’t sleep past
Although I collected a variety of cutting and scraping tools from the garage, I found that a boxcutter, one of a half dozen or so that found its way from
I immediately felt a wave of pent-up humiliation as I started out.
We allowed guests to enter this room, I thought, horrified. No surprise that we added so many area
rugs.
Looking at the underside of the carpet, I understood why cleaning it during the past few years made no change in its appearance. Countless spills had permeated every fiber within large amoeba-like designs.
JoAnna joined me shortly after
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” she asked.
“You were sleeping so peacefully,” I said.
We finished up by
Later in the morning, JoAnna bought annuals (mostly impatiens and coleus) for the back yard. We plan to put them into the ground tomorrow. Even if we had the time today, it’s almost too cold to do so. The temperature has remained in the 50s for the most part.
Tuesday, May 8
After all that obsessing – or should I say “visualization” – the recarpeting project is now quickly over and done with.
Initially, the carpet installers were scheduled to appear at the house first thing Monday morning, i.e., around
“We should be there around
I gave him my work phone number and then kept to my office for the rest of the morning. My medication for high blood pressure usually makes me feel like a backed-up faucet for an hour or so, but I didn’t experience this feeling yesterday. It never fails, of course; whenever I leave my office to go to the bathroom, the phone call I’m anticipating is returned during my absence.
As the clock dragged slowly past
Did I somehow mix up the numbers? I wondered.
But I was sure that Carpets Plus had both my home and work phone numbers in their records.
Fortunately, it wasn’t much of a wait after this point. I met the installers at the house at
“It’s so soft,” Andy marveled.
We were all ready to get a head start in putting the family room back in order. I had even brought two small, wheeled platform trucks from the library to move my too-heavy-to-carry rolltop desk back into place. (We didn’t want to drag it over a newly installed carpet, especially a shaggy one.)
After I retrieved the trucks from the car, Andy expressed a few ideas about changing the previous family room arrangement. He might as well have started to wave a red flag.
“You better run that past your mom first,” I cautioned. “Besides, why should we listen to any of your suggestions?” I added, teasingly. “You’re going to be gone in a few months.”
I called JoAnna at work, and her response was simple and direct.
“Don’t put anything back until we’re all home.”
At
“How come you didn’t call for a ride?” I asked.
Usually he’s not done with track practice until
“I didn’t want to have to wait,” he replied cryptically.
At least I wasn’t sure what he meant by this response.
Even more so than Andy, Eddie couldn’t wait to get the family room back in order.
“Why do we have to wait until Mom gets home?” he complained.
We didn’t have to wait that long, actually, as JoAnna showed up five minutes later.
We started with the rolltop desk, which actually went quite smoothly, thanks to the little platform trucks on rollers. This piece of furniture proved to be the only item that JoAnna repositioned – and just slightly so. N
ow I’ll face south instead of west when I sit here.
From this point on, getting the room back in order was a breeze. The couch and love seat are so light that a person with excessive strength and balance could probably carry them without any assistance. Andy – the bum – didn’t return home until nearly everything was back in place. The Middleton boys’ lacrosse game was more important than helping out his family. Maybe it’s just as well he stayed away. In that way, we didn’t have go to through an unproductive discussion of how the room should be rearranged.
I have to admit that when I first walked into the newly recarpeted room, I wondered if maybe we should have gone a shade or two darker.
It’s like we died and went to beige heaven, I thought.
Once the room was refurnished, though, the wood of the rolltop desk and storage table really stand out in a very positive way. (Our couch-side table is still on back order.) Barb’s blue knitted comforter provides an attractive darker color highlight. JoAnna and I agree that it all fits together just as we hoped it would.
The components (as opposed to the storage) section of the computer desk fell apart when Eddie and I tried to wheel it out of the garage. A not unanticipated outcome. A couple of years ago, I managed to jerry-rig this junky piece of furniture back to stability. We’d recently talked about buying a replacement desk anyway, something not so bulky-looking. In the meantime, though, we set up a card table as a temporary measure. Andy will probably use the storage section of the computer desk in his
With the garage serving as a temporary holding area for the family room furniture, I can understand why some people end up parking their cars in the driveway or on the street. In our case, with no basement and no attic, it could be especially tempting to use our garage for additional storage space. Not that it doesn’t already serve this purpose. Most of the cabinets from our “old” kitchen were transferred there. But if push came to shove, half of the stuff we keep here could easily be tossed out. Not the baby blankets, though. JoAnna and I hope to be able to pass them onto our grandchildren some day. (Andy is going to be 20 this year, and, so far, he doesn’t seem to be inclined to wait as long as his dad did to get married.)
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