On This Date in 1999 (January 23, part 2)

Except for Andy, it’s basically a lazy afternoon. JoAnna is stretched out on the couch channel-surfing, Eddie is watching TV in the kitchen. I just completed a letter to JoAnna’s folks and thought I’d get one started to the other side of the family. Andy and Meaghan have been playing together for the past three hours. The board game Risk. Hide and seek. And now they might be over at Meaghan’s house or ice-skating at Meadows Park, for all I know, although I don’t think conditions today are ideal for skating.

Before I forget. HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!! 54 years! I know things over the past few years have been tough for you, Mom, but I’m sure you have lots of wonderful memories of a great relationship.

On This Date in 1998

I’m using a different approach in this letter. These “news reports” are written in the third person, as if I’m some unbiased observer.

Andy & Eddie Headline News 

“Missing” Son Worries Forgetful Father
Middleton resident and library director Paul Nelson returned home with his younger son Eddie late Thursday afternoon. He was puzzled to find the house dark. He expected that his older son would be home from school.

Figuring that his son was at a friend’s house, Nelson didn’t make any immediate efforts to locate his son’s whereabouts. He unloaded seven bags of groceries from the car and then proceeded to fix Eddie something to eat before the boy’s 6:15 Cub Scout meeting.

“In spite of the fact that the cupboards were replenished with food,” Nelson said in a conversation with his wife later that evening, “Eddie still settled for a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. But then I, too, fixed something I eat almost every day – a turkey-and-cheese sandwich.”

As six o’clock approached, Nelson started to become increasingly worried. His worry then started to transform itself into anger.

“Andy is going to be grounded big time,” he barked. The comment was made in Eddie’s presence but not specifically addressed to him. “If he thinks he can still have a sleepover at Tim’s house this weekend, he is sadly mistaken.”

Nelson had checked voice mail, hoping to be reassured by the sound of Andy’s voice, but there were no messages waiting to be played. The phone rang twice between quarter of six and six. Both times the slight pause after his saying “Hello” told Nelson that is was only another pesky telemarketer. He stayed on the line just in case.

“Is Miss JoAnna Marie there?” the first voice, a woman’s’, asked.

“No one here by that name,” Nelson answered sharply and slapped the phone back into its cradle.

“Is Mr. Nelson there?” asked a young man’s voice ten minutes later.

“No,” he lied and abruptly cut the connection.

The phone rang again five minutes later.

This time it better be Andy, Nelson thought.

It was.

“Andy, where are you?” his dad asked, wavering between a reprimand and a plea.

“I’m at bowling,” he answered. “I’m here with Ross Parks and we need a ride home.”

Duh, that’s right, Nelson thought. Andy bowls on Thursday afternoons after school, and usually he’s done at four-thirty or five o’clock.

“What have you been doing the past hour? Why didn’t you call me?” “I called the library. Pat said you went grocery shopping and would pick me up afterwards.”

And, of course, one of Nelson’s staff members at the library wouldn’t assume that his boss would abandon his kid at a bowling alley.

Luckily, Nelson was able to pick up Andy and Ross and drop off Eddie at his Cub Scout meeting by the 6:15 deadline.

Nelson blamed his forgetfulness on a hectic week. He had left the house on Thursday morning at an unusually early time – 6:45 – to attend a city department heads meeting with the newly hired city administrator, Mike Davis. Both boys were still asleep when he left the house.

“I was out of town on Thursday of last week and this week I was much too focused on my own Thursday schedule. I was lucky to remember to pick up Eddie at After School,” he confessed.

(Editor’s note: The following headline is a good example of the use of hyperbole, i.e., extravagant exaggeration.)

Son of Prominent Middleton Couple Involved in Schoolyard Brawl 
Eddie Nelson, Elm Lawn second grader and son of library director Paul Nelson and well-known political operative JoAnna Richard, was involved in a case of inappropriate behavior on the school playground on Thursday. According to an eyewitness account, which was verified in a letter from principle George Mavrolis, Eddie threw a hard plastic paddle mitt at another student and struck him just above the eye.

“It was an accident,” Eddie is reported to have said to his skeptical dad on the drive home from school.

“The other student suffered a cut and swelling. The paddle narrowly missed the eye itself. He came very close to needing stitches,” Marvolis said, indirectly discounting the possibility of this incident being an accident.

This is Eddie’s third infraction of the year. As a result, he will lose all of his recess privileges for an entire week.

When hearing of the news, Ms. Richard put some of the blame on herself.

“I forgot to give him his medicine this morning.”

According to school records, Eddie has been diagnosed with attention deficit disorder and takes methylphenidate twice daily. 

News Extra 

Former Warren Resident Gets Chuckle Out of Rep’s Math Even though he lives almost 700 miles west of here, former Warren resident Paul Nelson, son of the Rev. and Mrs. Carl Nelson, keeps in touch with Warren activities with a subscription to the Times Observer.

“My mom used to clip certain article and picture and enclose them in her letters, but now I can make sure that I don’t miss anything,” he explained.

A recent front-page article about the 75th anniversary of the Allegheny National Forest caught Nelson’s eye. After reading it, Nelson wonders if U.S. Representative John Peterson needs to take a remedial math course. The representative was quoted as saying, “As we celebrate, we need to be diligent that in 100 years, we’re celebrating the 100th anniversary.”

Nelson notes that the 100th anniversary of the Allegheny National Forest will be celebrated in 2023, or 25 year from now.

“I hope Peterson is not on the House Appropriations Committee,” Nelson quipped.

Late-breaking news briefs 

City budget proposal includes funds for Sunday hours
Last Tuesday, the City of Middleton finance committee made a final recommendation on the 1999 operating budget. The Middleton common council will vote on the budget at its December 1st meeting following a public hearing.

Included in next year’s budget are funds requested by the Middleton Public Library board to open the library on Sunday from 1 to 5 p.m. The new service is scheduled to begin on March 7 and will be offered during the school year, from the Sunday after Labor Day through the Sunday before Memorial Day weekend.

“I won’t be surprised if these four hours turn out to be the busiest time of the week,” Library Director Paul Nelson predicted. “Participants in a series of focus group discussions the library held last year told us that Sunday hours are the number one service improvement that we could offer. I’m pleased that the city has seen fit to honor this request.”

Middleton schools close for teacher in-service 
Last week all Wisconsin public school students enjoyed a four-day weekend as a result of a two-day state teachers’ conference. This week, students in the Middleton-Cross Plains School District get a bonus: a three-day weekend. Some parents questioned the scheduling of a teacher in-service so close to the annual conference. On the other hand, some families have taken advantage of these two shortened schoolweeks to insert a fall break into their vacation schedule. Some children knew of friends who were out of school for the entire week, spending time in Florida and other warmer regions of the U.S. To add insult to injury, temperatures in Wisconsin rarely climbed above 40 degrees for the past week. Cloudy skies and windy conditions have given the air a wintry chill.

“We now return to our regularly schedule programming….”

On This Date in 1998

Thank God it’s Wednesday! That exclamation will give you an indication of how busy this week has been already. A year ago, JoAnna and I would have been at our wit’s end trying to juggle our schedules, as if we were trying to keep balls and plates and flaming batons in the air at the same time. At least now we can leave the boys on their own, if necessary.

With two weeks left before election day, it’s crunch time for JoAnna. She keeps telling her guys, “You won’t see much of me between now and November 3rd.” Late October is also a hectic time of the year for me with city budget deliberations and preparation for the annual library conference.

Middleton’s personnel committee met on Monday at 5:30, which meant I had to pick up Eddie and bring him to the library since no one was at home. Andy was at football practice. JoAnna had to make a trip to Janesville. I knew Eddie would be hungry so I stopped at the house to fix him a sandwich, grab a container of yogurt and a handful of Oreo cookies. Earlier in the day, I had signed him up for a half hour of computer time so he’d have something to do other than page through books. (Not that he objects to doing that.) He attends a religion class on Monday evenings from 6:30 to 7:30, and St. Bernard’s is only two blocks from the library. Not sure when the committee meeting would end, I asked a staff member to remind Eddie when he needed to leave. She volunteered to give him a ride, since a busy University Avenue separates the library and the church. And, during this time of year, it’s dark by 6:15. As much as I want the boys to develop a sense of independence and responsibility, there are times when the overly protective parent in me takes over.

At 7:15, the library request had still not been discussed. The committee stalled while going through the Public Works part of the agenda. I left the room to call the library from a pay phone in the lobby of city hall and asked Liz if she would pick up Eddie and drive him home. I figured that Andy would be back from football practice by this time.

Fifteen minutes later I was on the way home, very pleased with myself. The personnel committee had approved all of the library’s personnel requests to open the library on Sundays during the school year. Of course, that’s not the final verdict. I still have two more hurdles to jump over: the finance committee and the full council.

I was surprised to find the house dark as I pulled into the driveway. Andy should certainly be home by now, I thought. The phone rang within 5 minutes of my return. I expected to hear Andy’s voice. It was Liz, calling from the library, which momentarily confused me. She and Eddie couldn’t get into the house. I told her (and Eddie) that I’d leave the patio door to the laundry room open. (She had attended our Bastille Day party this year so I figured she knew what I was talking about.) They only tried the two front doors. Eddie did not want to venture into the darkness of the back yard. So I drove to the library to pick up Eddie, swinging by St. Bernard’s to see if Andy had decided to attend his religion class. Last week he attended in his football gear, minus the pads. One of his best buddies is also in the class. For that reason, I don’t think our Lord Jesus was the main draw.

Once Eddie was back home, I decided to check voice mail. Sure enough, there was a message from Andy. “I’m at Riley’s house,” he informed me. I grabbed my car keys and made one final taxi run. Kathy Farrell, one of the football practice carpool parents, had waited to make sure that Andy could get into the house when she dropped him off. Andy tried the two front doors, both locked of course, and he, too, was afraid of the dark. We leave the back door open so he doesn’t have to worry about keeping track of a house key. He usually forgets to bring it to school with him and has been known to misplace a key every once in awhile. (What was that remark about developing responsibility?) Anyway, when Andy found himself locked out, Riley invited him over to his house.

At 8:30, I tried to get Eddie to focus on his homework. Each week he receives a sheet with 6-8 vocabulary words and 12-15 sentences from his special reading teacher. Each night he is supposed to review this assignment for 15 minutes. After an unusually hectic day, Eddie was unable to focus and became a little ornery. I knew if I pushed the issue, I might observe a full-blown tantrum. We found some time Tuesday morning during breakfast.

Tuesday’s finance committee meeting was scheduled at a time when I was supposed to be driving Andy to Cross Plains for a “non-conference” football game, the St. Francis 5th graders against the Middleton 5th graders. With some critical budget requests on the line, I couldn’t miss this meeting. Fortunately, Andy had good news when he called me after school. Kathy Farrell, one of the carpool parents and a teacher’s aide at Elm Lawn, volunteered to pick up Andy at 5:15. I was just about to contact her when Andy called. Whew! I thought. One less thing to worry about.

Since I usually work on Tuesday evenings, JoAnna had already agreed to follow her usual schedule and pick up Eddie. If I hadn’t been saddled with any commitments, though, she would have taken advantage of another opportunity to work late. The finance committee last an hour; I expected that we’d go until 7:00. More good news. Although the committee didn’t take a vote, the preliminary discussion indicates that the library’s two most important capital budget requests (a library materials theft detection system replacement and a divider for the lower level meeting room) will remain intact.

Due to the earlier than anticipated adjournment, I drove to Cross Plains and arrived in time for the kickoff of Andy’s game, his first game under the lights. With his team down 8-0 at halftime, I returned, as planned, to Middleton for the council meeting, since a resolution to exempt the city from the county library tax was on the agenda. Routine business. I didn’t expect any problems, but always like to be in the audience just in case a question arises. I walked into the council chambers five minutes after the start of the meeting. I sat down next to the police chief, who leaned towards me and whispered, “Don’t get too comfortable. We’re almost done.” The council had already voted to approve the county library tax resolution, no questions asked, as the library board had recommended. I could have stayed at Andy’s game, and watched the Orioles go on to a 24-7 defeat. They’re still without a victory, and their last game of the season is this Saturday.

Although JoAnna won’t be home until late tonight, my schedule for today and the rest of the week is a breeze. No more agonizing over how to get the boys from here to there and back home again. I can relax this evening, help Eddie with his homework, then put up my feet and read a book in the solitude of the family room after the boys go to bed. I’ve been able to complete all my conference preparations – board meeting outline on Tuesday, keynote speaker introduction on Wednesday, President’s report for the WLA business meeting on Thursday, and Presidents’ luncheon remarks on Friday – at the library. I keep all my notes and other papers organized in a three-ring binder. I’m ready for business.

We’ll be seeing you soon. Actually the boys and JoAnna will see you sooner. I’ll be in Lake Geneva by the time you arrive on Tuesday. Guess I’ll see you on Friday afternoon. How about if we celebrate my 49th birthday that evening?

By the way, I was very impressed with the Manitowoc Public Library, although I probably would have arranged some of the shelving and displays a little differently. When I first walked along the mezzanine, I was struck by a sense of déjà vu. As far as the interior is concerned, there is a slight resemblance to the older library. I mentioned that to a staff member who had invited me to present the workshop, and she said the same feeling struck her.

JoAnna and I certainly appreciate your willingness to help us out next week. I know the boys are looking forward to Grandma and Grandpa’s visit.

On This Date in 1998

Yesterday was a day of frequent interruptions at work. I made a quick midmorning trip home to retrieve some meeting notes on my desk. Minutes after I returned to work after my lunch hour, I received a call from the Orkin guy, who needed to get into the house to administer this month’s ant bomb (which has been very effective, by the way. Since the unusual midwinter invasion we experienced in early 1997, we have had very few intruders.) Andy called me at 3:15 asking for a ride home. “It’s pouring outside,” he reported, although that’s not the conditions I encountered as I walked to the car. An hour later he called to say that he had left his mouthguard in the trunk of the car. “Maybe you should ride your bike to the library and retrieve it,” I suggested. But his ride to football practice was expected at any minute. It’s a good thing my job (and my position) allows me some flexibility with my comings and goings.

I’ll close for now.

P.S. Mom, what do you think of your grandson the football player?

On This Date in History

Here is another letter with yet another font style. Microsoft Word, the word processing program I am using, offers more than 50 choices, though you shouldn’t expect me to try them all. I try to pick a readable style, and at least half of what is offered is a little too artsy or specialized.

I feel a little responsible for Andy’s below-average pitching performance yesterday. I left work early so he could warm up before his game. He pitched about 10 minutes, about an hour before game time. In the first inning of the game, the first two batters hit the ball back to Andy. He fielded each one cleanly and made an accurate throw to first. Two outs. I was happy to see him off to such a good start. The next batter, a classmate and soccer teammate of Andy’s who is my nominee for best hitter in the Little Bucks League, boomed a double over the right-fielder’s head. Batter number four hit a dribbler to the third baseman, who had trouble picking I tup and made a very late, but accurate throw to first. Then the first baseman, noticing that the lead runner was ten feet off third base, threw the ball back to the third baseman, who let it get by him into foul territory. The unearned run tied the score. Andy’s team had scored once in the top of the first. In the second inning, Andy lost his control. He walked three batters and hit two. I wondered if maybe he was tired from the pitching he did before the game. He was upset with himself, and I felt so bad for him, but he managed to finish the inning, but not before the other team scored four runs.

I was pleased that Andy was able to shake off his disappointing performance rather quickly. He stayed involved in the game. The second pitcher for his team didn’t do any better, also giving up five runs in 2 innings. A couple of pitchers on the other team were wild, also, which allowed Andy’s team almost to make a comeback. Down 10-8 in the top of the 6th (in a 6 inning game), Johnny Strnad, the team’s best player, was up with the bases loaded. The players were screaming encouragement from the sidelines, but Johnny ended up grounding out into a force out. The two teams that played last night are probably the best in the league.

Later in the evening, when I asked Andy about the warm-up pitches, he said, no, that wasn’t the problem. He was trying to aim the ball. Meaghan, the only girl in the league, led off the 2nd inning, and I wonder if her presence upset his pitching rhythm. His first two pitches were way outside, as if he was afraid he might hit her. As his coaches told him, everyone has an offday. Next time Andy should feel a little bit more comfortable in a pressure situation.

This morning I left Andy sleep in until 8:15. He has another game tomorrow evening and plays in a tournament in Beaver Dam this weekend. “He needs his rest,” I thought, “and I don’t have to be to work at any particular time.” That gave me a chance to do a few things around the house: finish sawing up the tree limb I cut down last weekend into manageable pieces to carry to the curb, sweep the kitchen floor (dotted with so many crumbs I’m surprised I didn’t hear a crunch when I walked on it), vacuum the back hallway (where the boys deposit wood chips from the inside of their shoes each day), start a load of ash and get it into the dryer before leaving for work.

Eddie was up when I finished my Walkfit, an unusual circumstance as he is usually the one who is reluctant to get up. Andy’s sleeping in gave Eddie some bonus TV time. Also more time to play with Boxer, who is starting to move off the floor with greater ease and spring.

This morning as I was leaving the bedroom, I heard the soft plink of a chord of sour notes coming from the living room. I found Boxer crouched on top of the paino, loking at his world from a new vantage point. He hoped back to the floor with a little bit of assistance on my part and a gruff, “No, Boxer!” Tuesday night I fixed myself a tossed salad with tuna added in. Boxer remained at my feet throughout my preparations, meowing occasionally and looking as though he might be considering a jump to the countertop. I suspect that feat is in the not-too-distant future. For that reason, I resisted the urge to give him a treat.

I apologize for not calling lately. Things have been so hectic with the boys’ sometimes competing baseball schedules and our other activities. While exercising this morning, I thought about calling before going to work but got sidetracked by other things. At least you are getting regular letter from me, so you have an idea of how life is proceeding her. The big 4 – work, the boys, the house, the yard – take up most of our time.

I haven’t been following baseball too closely this year. I usually have the TV tuned to “Sports Center” when I’m on the Walkfit, catching as many baseball highlights that will fit into my 20 minutes of exercise. I glance at the team standings (hoping for a Yankee loss, which happens too infrequently this season) and the box scores (more interested in attendance figures than anything else – wondering how much longer Montreal and the Twin Cities can keep a baseball team when they usually attract less than 10,000 people to a game), but I don’t study them like I did 30 years ago. I leave that to Andy now. I’d like to take the family to a game at Wrigley Field sometime this summer. I made a couple of trips there in the mid-80s with some Oshkosh friends. It’s a great ballpark; it has a very intimate feel. Every once in awhile, Andy will ask about the possibility of this trip. I should check the schedule for a good match-up. The Cubs vs. Cardinals. Andy would get a kick out of seeing Mark McGwire in action.

June 5, 1992

Once again I have only the dimmest memory of the specific circumstances of going to bed last night.  How far into Nick at Nite's evening line-up did I remain conscious?  I really have no idea.

I almost miss the WAPL board meeting in Oshkosh.  I stop at City Hall and the library to get the checks ready for distribution.  Ilene informs me that Marie has called in sick.  Fortunately, Susan is willing to fill in for the day.

Ten miles into the trip, I curse myself for not bringing along the camcorder.  I wanted to shoot a memory-lane video as I drove around Oshkosh.  It will have to be done at another time.

I'm fifteen minutes late for the meeting, but the group present is still chatting informally once I arrive since they don't have a quorum.  My presence takes care of that problem.  I'm expecting a short meeting, under two hours, meaning that we'll be done around noon, but it takes us until nearly 2 to get through the agenda.  That gives me only the briefest of opportunities to walk through the library and greet familiar faces.  On a Friday afternoon in the summer when the reduced 37-hour work week has one into effect, the possibilities are greatly reduced.   Except for John Stoneberg, who is eager to get back to Eau Claire, the board members eat lunch at Tortilla Flats, my choice -- and my first visit since the restaurant has moved into its new location.  The cheese crisp is still as massive and tasty and filling as ever.

I always experience such a tingle of disbelief whenever I visit Oshkosh, as if I have returned to a special dreamworld.  I did so little here professionally, but so much socially, which is the area I gave more priority anyway -- though maybe I underestimate my achievements here.  I wonder how I would feel about myself today if I were still there, still single perhaps, still content to have biking and drugs as my main sources of pleasure.  I think I'd be an awfully weary, self-loathing man.

Time constraints do not allow any surprise visits,  I think about how much I'd like to see Bob for even a few minutes.  Driving past Dave and Lynn's duplex, I notice a swing set and sandbox in the back yard.   For the people who rent the upstairs apartment?  Or have Dave and Lynn moved elsewhere?  For all I know, they could be in another state.  I haven't been in touch with them for nearly two years.

The Nissan is one of a multitude of vehicles speeding along highway 151.  I return to Madison in time to cash my check at the credit union, but not to contact JoAnna about picking up the boys.

We spent the evening at Festa Italia with Larry and Martha and Michael (and Martha's sister Liz).  It's so much fun watching Andy interact with other children his age.  He makes friends so quickly.

June 1, 1992

#4 on the Billboard Hot 100

I get an early start to the day after a week's vacation.  The only surprise is that one of the sliding glass doors for the lobby display case is broken.  Otherwise, I zip through my mail and organize the May invoices.  Then I seem to be at a loss as to what to do next.  I have a long list of project screaming for my attention.  I take a break around 9:30 and eat a second, heartier breakfast at the Old Town Inn.  I try the chicken cordon bleu omelet, an uninspired but certainly edible concoction.  The American fries are very tasty.

The Dane County Reimbursement Study Committee meets at the Madison Public Library during the early afternoon.  I feel out of it here but still manage to make a few lucid contributions to the discussion.

For a change of pace, and in an effort to get my weight back down below 200, Andy and I walk home from Little Red.  He complains a few times about being tired walking.  So am I -- loaded down with my over-the-shoulder bag, a plastic string-tie bag containing our mail from the past week, and a brown grocery bag stuffed with a variety of Andy's leftovers from Little Red.

JoAnna's evening meeting is scheduled to we have a rare weekday evening to spend together.

April 30, 1992

Today I think about tomorrow, taking a day off work and getting into some long overdue yardwork. I also think about leaving work early, but CDs in delivery keep me in my office until after 5.  On the way home, I stop at the Bruce Company in preparation for tomorrow's chores.

I'm fascinated by the news coverage of L.A. burning that Andy and I watched during the evening.  Naturally, he doesn't have a clue.

On This Date in 1998

It feels like we’re sprinting to the finish line of the school year.  Not that I’m in any particular hurry to get there.  The boys probably are, though.  For Andy, it will mean no  homework for three months.  For Mom and Dad, it will provide a temporary respite from tense confrontations over late and incomplete assignments.

Tonight JoAnna reminded me to check Andy’s assignment notebook, right after he told us he had finished everything he was supposed to do.  But when I reviewed his assignments item by items, I found out otherwise.   As a result, I made him sit at the kitchen table and complete the work he had previously blown off.  For the past hour, he’s been working on a crossword puzzle that uses vocabulary from a list of words in a science glossary.  He should have been able to complete it in 15 minutes, but initially he had trouble getting focused.  He had to sharpen his pencil.  He needed a drink of water.  Then he was going to have a bowl of ice cream.  I quickly vetoed that last idea.  Even when he returned to the table, he seemed unable to concentrate, a blank expression on his face, then a hint of stubbornness spreading across it.  In our bedroom, I shared an idea with JoAnna.  Andy’s weekend doesn’t start on Friday until his homework for Monday is done.  No TV.  No playing with friends.  No pizza delivery.  No videos.  One of Andy’s problems is that he won’t tackle an assignment until the day before it’s due, even if it’s assigned a week in advance.  I’m trying to get him to see the advantage of completing an assignment early.

Eddie seems to be making great progress as a result of his special reading classes.  He had some homework tonight, and, taking a cue from his brother, initially resisted the idea of doing it.  He read five little stories to us (“Sam has ham” – simple words used repetitively).  He was able to sound out all the words without our assistance.

JoAnna spent Saturday evening and Sunday in Two Rivers with her parents.  She made a presentation Sunday afternoon to the Two Rivers HistoricalSociety on the Richard family history.  Outside of the special election, that was her big project during the past few months.  She was expecting somewhere in the neighborhood of 20 people to show up.  Almost 200 attended!  Her family tree goes back to Acadia.  French-Canadian.  She has found a lot of information on the Internet, and I ordered her a couple of books on Acadian history from the State Historical Society library.  We’ll have to remember to bring along some of her research this summer.

In two more weeks, I’ll be done with my class at the University.  I won’t be teaching again in the fall, since UW has a policy that a “hired gun” like myself can only teach the same course two semesters in a row.  It’s been a great experience.  I feel honored to have been given this opportunity and very pleased with the feedback I have received from students and faculty.

I started the annual spreading of the mulch.  This year I ordered 7 cubic yards of shredded bark, up one from last year.  I started with the front yard on Saturday, a gorgeous day to be outdoors, which helped me to tackle the project with an extra dose of enthusiasm.  I removed some sod next to the evergreen trees at the north end of our lot, the mulch I spread here giving this area some much-needed definition.   It also helps to downplay the lawn blight.  It rained in Sunday so I wasn’t able to get started on the south side of the house, where no grass is found and a variety of perennials soak up the sun all summer long.  It did clear up by late afternoon, but by that time I was determined to finish the books I was reading (TheWishbones, a funny first novel by Tom Perrotta, 1990s New Jersey slice of life – a book that I bet Dale would enjoy reading).  Then after supper, the boys and I walked to a nearby ball diamond where Andy practiced his pitching (he hopes to be one of the starting pitchers on his baseball team this summer. 

Saturday night I took the kids (the boys + Meaghan and Nick) to see Paulie, a movie about a talking parrot, one who doesn’t just mimic what he hears people say, but actually has a mind (and a vocabulary) of his own.    It’s a cute family film, although I must admit I found it a little sluggish and treacly at times.  With the weather so lousy on Sunday, I thought we might take in another movie, but Andy was with Nick and Meaghan for most of the day, and Eddie was at a friend’s house for three hours during the afternoon.  Dad ended up home alone, stretched out on the couch of the living room, reading his book, enjoying the solitude.

Last week I turned off the furnace but fired it up tonight.  The temperature was 43 degrees when I woke up this morning, the wind chill at 20.  Tonight it’s supposed to get even colder.  Glad I didn’t try to plan anything this weekend.  There are a few areas of the yard where I’d like to fill in some open space with perennials.  I usually don’t even think about planting annuals until the Mother’s Day weekend, although some people around here will say wait until Memorial Day.  I can never wait that long.

            
I noticed the obituary for Levina Karlson.  Did you go to her funeral, Mom?  I was thinking of sending a memorial to the church.  I always associate city chicken with Levina, probably because it was one of the meals she served us at their house on Sixth Avenue.

I bought Barb a birthday card a few days before the deadline but never got around to sending it.  I wanted to enclose a note and perhaps pick up a little gift for her (and Dale, too).  But excuses, excuses – I just never got around to it.  Happy belated birthday, Barb!  We’ve been thinking about you.

April 16, 1992

Never on the Nelson/Richard TV viewing schedule

JoAnna calls me at the library during the day to inform me of the latest version of her weekend plans.  She's thinking about leaving tonight.  I'm not expecting this scenario and hesitate momentarily.

"Then you'll have tomorrow completely to yourself.  You can sleep in, you won't have to worry about the boys waking you up early."

Returning home from work, I soon find that JoAnna has started to pack.  I inspect Andy's suitcase and discover that he's ready for another excursion to Disney World.

"You have too many shorts and tank tops here, Andy," I comment.  "It could be summer in the rest of the state, but chances are it will still be closer to winter in Two Rivers."

April 8, 1992

TIME

I'm on cloud nine throughout the day.  We don't get to bed until after one on election night and my Mexican jumping-bean brain cells keep me from experiencing a restful sleep.  I awake sometime after three, toss and turn, and try to eliminate thought of Don somehow sabotaging the election. By midafternoon, I'm dragging a little bit.  JoAnna's back to her usual work schedule, which today means that she has a meeting in Milwaukee that will keep her out past ten.  I'm crashed out by the time she returns.  Maybe Andy is too, or maybe he's tubin' out.

March 24, 1992

The New Yorker

However, staying asleep remains a major challenge.  In some ways, I'm more concerned about the second day's performance, since these are the notes I've barely had a chance to review, but after day one I have a much increased faith in my ability to ad lib effectively.  And fortunately, it turns out to be a well-placed one.

Lunchtime today is a bit more hectic.  Kim Olson is babysitting Andy in the morning, but I need to get him to Steppingstone for afternoon supervision.  Showing an extraordinary adaptability, he is actually very excited about getting into this new experience.  We arrive at naptime, and by the time I leave, a very aggressive young girl named Missy to share Andy's cot.  Suddenly I have no concerns about how he will adjust to his new surroundings.

At the end of the two-day workshop, I am basking in the glow of extremely positive remarks from many of the participants.  I just can't believe how well the workshop turned out.  What would have happened if I'd given it a major major effort?

Before picking up the boys, I stop at University Bookstore to look for something that will help me reattached the muffler to the bottom of the car.  The last time I took the Nissan in for a tune-up, Jeff told me about this likelihood.

We'd Forget our Heads If They Weren't Screwed On

            Who's the more forgetful person in this picture?

            Andy left for Milwaukee around 12:30 on Wednesday, after spending three days in Middleton, hanging out at home with Dad, for the most part, as JoAnna had meetings on both Monday and Tuesday evenings.   (Some of that time he spent applying for jobs -- a total of 9.)

            As soon as he left, I headed for the living room couch to take a nap.  On the days that I teach, I always feel the need for an afternoon refresher.  The timing of my class (5:30 to 8:00 p.m.) doesn't fit into the natural flow and rhythm of my day.  I've been an early-riser kind of guy for most of my married life.  (I certainly didn't fit that pattern beforehand.)   Now I find that I'm freshest in the morning and at a low energy level during the evening.  Fortunately, I've made the necessary adjustments to keep me charged up throughout my 2 1/2 hour class.

            Following a half-hour snooze, I stripped the sheets from the bed in which Andy had slept and carried them to the utility room, where I was greeted by the sight of a basket filled with clean laundry.  Andy's.  I immediately called him on my cell phone.

            "You forgot your clothes," I announced, a sense of urgency in my voice.

            He seemed, at first, not to understand what I was talking about.

            "The clothes you brought home," I prompted. 

            "I'm almost to Johnson Creek," Andy explained, as if he had already reached teh point of no return.

            "Andy, you left behind a lot of clothes.  I'm sure you're going to need them before your next trip home."

            "OK, I'll come and get them," he conceded, a bit reluctantly, I thought.

            As he hefted the basket to bring to his car, he remembered the bag of goodies he'd purchased at Dollar Tree the previous day, the need for a dish drainer being the primary reason for this visit.

            There's more.

            Once I returned home after my evening class, I opened the refrigerator to select something to eat among the week's leftovers and spotted two plastic containers of food that I'd prepared for Andy:  beef stew from Monday and turkey breast and "trimmings" from Tuesday.

            What a pair of airheads.

            This series of incidents makes me wonder how the two of us get out of bed unassisted each morning.

March 18, 1992

Wisconsin Blue Book 1991-1992

As a result of weeks and weeks of avoidance, I'm forced to spend as much work time this week, Eve's first week on the job, focusing on last-minute preparations for next week's workshop.  I have to do this at work since JoAnna has such a busy work schedule with the legislature in session, not to mention her campaigning for county board.

Andy and I are asleep, the TV tuned to Nick at Nite, when JoAnna returns home from work.

March 16, 1992

TIME

Andy is still determined to give his dad as much grief as possible.  To get him out the door and into the car, I have to prod him every inch of the way.  I yell, I threaten, I growl.  Not until we walk into daycare is he his sweet little self again.  I don't feel I'm starting the day on the right emotional note, but the day goes well.  Eve seems to enjoy her first day as Middleton's new children's librarian. I spend most of the afternoon and early evening working on my Nuts and Bolts notes.  With JoAnna at a meeting, I make some chicken wings, using a secret ingredient -- crushed corn flakes -- in the breading.

On This Day in 1998

It’s the lazy part of a Sunday afternoon, the overcast, dreary conditions making me almost want to hibernate, but I want to feel productive.  Time to “write” a letter then.

To one degree or another, we’ve all been busy this weekend, some more than others.  Andy had his usual basketball practice Friday evening.  JoAnna attended a performance of Eugene O’Neill’s “Long Day’s Journal Into Night” at the Madison Civic Center.  She's attending with the wife of one of her staff members, who wasn't able to get back to Madison in time.   Lance and Sue are good friends of ours.  We watched the recent Super Bowl fiasco at their house, and, for the past two years, they have hosted an all-day Fourth of July wing-ding of a party at their house, which has one of the most spacious back yards within the city limits of Madison.  They live just a block from Warner Park, where the spectacular “Rhythm and Booms” annual fireworks display is staged.

While Mom was out, Eddie worked on one of his extraordinarily detailed drawings, occasionally looking up from his work to watch TV, while I reviewed some journal notes I had written in early 1990.  These jottings reminded me of how much fun, just how precious Andy was when he was a 2 year old.

We were up at our usual weekday time on Saturday.  In fact, the boys were in front of the TV by 6:30.  (Never on a schoolday!)  Half of Andy’s eight basketball games t his season have started at 8:00 a.m.  I guess the coach didn’t have much clout as far as the scheduling was concerned.  The Wildcats, the mascot Andy and his teammates chose, ended their season, soundly beating a team (30-18) that they had defeated by a single point, a real nail-biter, earlier in the season.  Although he scored only two points, Andy played very aggressively.  Last week he played one of his best games, and, naturally, neither JoAnna nor I were there to see (all of) it.  Mom had an out-of-town commitment, and Dad had to drive Eddie to a birthday party at a roller rink, a 20-minute drive from home.  Andy proudly told me after his game that he scored 11 points, grabbed 10 rebounds, and made 5 assists.

“What’s a triple double?” he asked me as we walked to the car.

“Well, Andy, if you would have had 5 more assists, you would have had one,” I answered.

Once we returned home, Andy changed his clothes to get ready for his First Reconciliation.  According to the postcard we had received earlier in the week, the service was scheduled to begin at 10:00.  When we entered the sanctuary at a quarter of, we were surprised to find the priest in the middle of his homily.  We quietly and unobtrusively filed into an empty pew behind everyone else.

“I wonder if there’s a second service at 10,” JoAnna whispered, almost mouthed, to me.

I didn’t think that seemed too likely.

“There’s probably a voice mail message waiting for us at home,” I offered.  Sometimes we forget to check.

Throughout the week, JoAnna had been preparing Andy for this event, giving him a clear idea of what he should say to the priest.

“Father, forgive me, for I have sinned.”  (Why quibble with the original?)

And she shared with him the following specific examples:

·         Lying to my parents.

·         Fighting with my brother.

·         Not doing what my teacher tells me to do.

She continued her prompting right up until our arrival.

“Don’t go into too much detail.  The priest doesn’t have all day,” I teased him as we were driving to the church.

“Dad!”

It was an assembly-line version of confession, as about 40 children waited in two lines waiting for their turns.  As one who grew up as a Lutheran, this service had a very unusual feel.  Lutherans are content to repeat a general “Confession of Sins” each week as part of the church liturgy.  Individual confession is not part of the denomination’s religious practice, with maybe one exception.  I vaguely remember having to confess my sins to my dad prior to the rite of confirmation when I was in 8^th grade.

After the service, JoAnna left for Whitewater where she was to give a presentation on 1^st Congressional district politics.  I forget all the details.  Who?  Why?  Etc.  From there she traveled to New Berlin to attend a political forum at the public library with her State Senate candidate Brian Manthey and his opponent Mary Lazich.  (Good news and bad news.  Thumbs up for Brian.  Mary was stiff as a board.   The New Berlin Public Library doesn’t have Internet access yet.)  The boys and returned home from church for a short interval, Andy immediately picking up the phone to find someone to play with.  It took two phone calls.  He left a message on an answering machine during the first call but was too impatient to wait for a callback.  He always has to keep his social calendar as full as possible.  Once I dropped Andy off at a friend’s house, Eddie and I went to Target to buy a classmate of his a birthday present – and numerous other items, as it turned out.  First of all, I let Eddie use his Christmas check from my Uncle Ed and Aunt Gen in Massachusetts to buy a toy – Beast Wars transformers, three animal characters that have since occupied much of Eddie’s time this weekend.  (Beast Wars is an animated show broadcast on the Fox Kids’ network.)  I took advantage of Target’s amazingly low prices – why do I all of a sudden sound like a TV commercial? – and stocked up on a variety of household and personal goods.  For example, the saline solution in which I store my contact lenses is priced 70 cents less than what I usually pay at our local Walgreen’s, and Walgreen’s has a pretty strong stranglehold on the regional drug store market.  I would have thought their prices would have been more competitive.  (Of course, that’s not what monopolies are all about.)  I found a huge box of Corn Flakes for $1.998.  Eddie picked a slightly smaller box of Chocolate Frosted Flakes for the same price. Gotta make sure the boys have a healthy breakfast!

Once everything was put away and a soup-and-sandwich lunch was digesting in my stomach, I stretched out on the couch in the family room with an unfinished crossword puzzle form Friday’s New York Times, the TV tuned to the NCAA college basketball playoffs.  I watched the Princeton-Michigan State game with great interest, torn between rooting for the Ivy League underdog, wondering if I should feel racist because the starting five players were all white, and a representative from the Big 10.  Once this game concluded, I found myself dozing in and out of a pleasant dreamland.

At 5:30 I started to worry about JoAnna’s return.  We had plans to go out for the evening, the sitter arriving in another hour.  I got myself ready – washed, dressed, and “perfumed” – before the grinding sound of the opening garage door announced Jo’s return shortly after 6:00

We were invited to attend a birthday party for Dorothy and Ted Shannon, both of them turning 80 this year, Dorothy on the 17^th of t his month and Ted in May.  (I’m sure you’ve met them before, either at one of JoAnna’s victory parties or our Bastille Day celebrations.  The Shannons are icons of the state Democratic party.)  The event was held at Otto’s Restaurant, on the west side of Madison, one of the area’s premier dining establishments.  Once we realized the company we were in, we felt extremely honored to be invited.  Among the big names in attendance:  Ed Garvey, Democratic gubernatorial candidate; Rick Phelps, former Dane County Executive and candidate for the 2^nd Congressional District; Attorney General Jim Doyle; Senate President Fred Risser; Senate Majority Leader (and our good friend) Chuck Chvala – in essence, the current elite of the Democratic party leadership.  The part was hosted by the Shannon’s three children, the oldest of whom is my age.  It was held in a large private room on the third floor of a converted cream-brick mansion in which the restaurant is located.  The food was excellent, the wine flowed freely, and consequently, so did the conversation and laughter as the evening progressed.   In fact, at one point, a small group of us marveled at the noise level in the room.  We expected o return home before 10:00, but it was closer to 11:30 by the time we pulled into the driveway. I still had another hour until bedtime, as our sitter, the daughter of a woman who works for JoAnna – we’ve used her in other emergency situations – lives in McFarland, a half-hour’s drive away.  With Middleton High School basketball playoffs this weekend, our usual sitters weren’t available.  JoAnna was sound asleep when I slipped into bed after my hour’s road trip.

JoAnna lectured at St. Bernard’s 11 o’clock service today.  Although feeling a little bit out of sorts from her busy Saturday – and perhaps from a little too much win at the Shannon’s party – she walked to church.  Both boys had “engagements” at 11:30:  Eddie, a birthday party – is there a party e doesn’t get invited to? I wonder – and Andy, his team banquet, using that word in its very loosest sense.   Andy’s event was held at a Rocky Rococo’s restaurant in a large meeting room with a movie-theater-size screen.  The boys and parents watched videos of two of the team’s recent games – both highlight and lowlights – while feasting on pizza.  Andy’s plate was heaped high with four pieces of overcheesed pizza, a serving size that seemed to be fairly typical, as I scanned the room.  Not just the kids, but moms and dads too.  Maybe I wasn’t hungry.  Maybe I wasn’t in the mood for pizza.  I could barely eat the one piece that I had plopped onto my plate.  I used to think that Rocky’s made a really good pizza, but my opinion has been revised after today.  They must daily unload the mozzarella by the truckload.

As I introductorily mentioned, it’s the lazy part of a Sunday afternoon.  JoAnna’s asleep on the couch, well into the second hour of her nap.  Eddie has been moving between his artist’s table in the family room, where he’s working on a war scene (looks like something we’ll have to send to Uncle Albert), and the kitchen, where a bowl of popcorn sits on the table and the TV is tuned to Nickelodeon.  Eddie must remember yesterday’s overheated reprimand about eating popcorn in the family room.  Sometimes Dad gets tired of picking up kernels of debris on the carpet.

Where’s Andy?  Extending his precious playtime.  After the “banquet”, some of the team adjourned to Tony Martinelli’s house for some outdoor activity.  Andy brought along a sled and the appropriate outdoor wear.  He’ll be home in plenty of time to do his homework and practice the cello later today, but perhaps not without some prodding.  When it comes to schoolwork, we really need to crack the whip with Andy. 

Here it is the middle of March and we still have 5-6 inches of snow on the ground.  In fact, right now, a very light snow is falling, probably not enough where I’ll have to pick up the shovel later today.  Once I complete this letter, I need to outline a preliminary itinerary for the upcoming spring-break trip to Pennsylvania.  Packing.  Motel reservations.  Return trip stayover in Chicago.  We’re leaving Mom behind as she is just too busy at work to get away for a week. 

           

Monday, March 2, 1992

Dad's first day of kindergarten

Whiitier School, Great Falls, Montana

From the level of nervousness I was trying to suppress, one would have thought it was my first day at a new preschool.  I'm not really that concerned about Andy's adjustment; after all, we've been talking about this adjustment for the past few weeks.  At first, he's a little hesitant about exploring the room, but Teresa, one of his morning teachers, introduces him to the boys and girls already present.  A number of the children walk up to Andy and talk to him.

When Liz arrives at the library, she marvels, "What a well-adjusted child."

I expected to see some tears this morning, but he was playing with the kids as though he's been there for weeks.  I'm so proud.  I think back to when I was a preschooler in Montana, when I looked forward to change as a new adventure.  Starting kindergarten was an eagerly anticipated event for me and I adjusted effortlessly.  It was simply the next logical thing to do in my young life.

My work day is interrupted twice.  The first time JoAnna calls to ask if I'll bring a fresh change of clothes to Eddie's daycare.  He's had two very messy bowel movements this morning.  A third one will mean time to go home.  Jill calls me at 11:45 with that news, so I get to spend the afternoon at home.  Eddie still can't walk; his right ankle is still tender, so I basically plop him down and don't worry about him getting into mischief.  Actually, we play on the bed and then he naps for most of the afternoon.  I spend my time on the computer.

Saturday, February 29, 1992

A springlike day has us in the mood for household chores.  We take apart the crib and rearrange the boys' room.  Then, so we'll have some place to store the disassembled piece of furniture, I clean out and reorganize the garage.  JoAnna does doors during most of the afternoon.

I should back up, though.  The first business of the day is the Kiwanis pancake breakfast, where Andy does a very poor job of behaving himself.  He gets a time out as soon as we return home -- plus an announcement that they'll be no television through the afternoon.  He finds plenty to do to keep himself occupied.  JoAnna and I should consider this approach more often.

Sunday, February 16, 1992

I crave a little variety in my life.  In an effort to pry Andy away from the TV, I suggest we go outside and build a snowman.  He hesitates at first, but JoAnna helps to encourage the activity.  Just as we're ready to spring into action, Andy announces that his boots are at daycare.  His high-top sneakers won't offer enough protection from the six inches of wet snow, so we stay inside.  JoAnna goes shopping and returns with a brand-new VCR.  After I set it up, Andy is in heaven.  He watches The Rescuers Down Under twice.  I enjoy some uninterrupted time on the computer.

Friday, February 14, 1992

Andy decides to be difficult this morning.  He just doesn't want to get dressed.  As I'm sitting at the kitchen table and reading the newspaper, sawing my way through a half grapefruit, I hear a yowl of protest from JoAnna.  As I make my way to the bedroom, I hear Andy call out mournfully, "Daddy!"  I get him dressed but apprise him of the fact that he's lost his television privileges for the evening.

At work, I break the news to Deb and, after she composes herself, explain where she could have done better during the interview   She's the first to admit she did a poor job, although I tell her it was below our expectations as she's already been offered two jobs this year.