On This Date in 1998

I hope you had a nice Thanksgiving. Ours was a brief but pleasant getaway. We spent Thursday and Friday in Two Rivers. We didn’t leave Middleton until nearly 8:30 Wednesday evening as Andy had a basketball practice scheduled from 6:00 to 7:30. As a result of our later departure, we missed the peak traffic period. We encountered no delays, but then all roads don’t lead to Two Rivers at Thanksgiving.

Taking advantage of the unseasonably warm weather, JoAnna and I took a walk along Lake Michigan Thursday morning, hardly needing the light jackets we wore. The lake was very calm, a slight breeze blowing out of the west having no effect on the water. Alice had most of the meal preparations in hand, so JoAnna didn’t feel guilty getting out of the house for a little while. We watched football during the afternoon, catching the coin toss controversy in the Steelers game. I suppose Dale had a few comments to make about this incident. I have to admit that it was the worst officiated game I have ever seen, both teams the victims of numerous bad calls. The coin toss, though, was definitely the low point of a game that the official seemed not to want to be at.

We ate Thanksgiving dinner at 4:30 and enjoyed the usual feast of turkey with all the trimmings. There were 12 around the table, including Cindy, her friend Mayra, and Mayra’s four brothers. After the clean up, some of the adults played cards for awhile.

The warm weather continued on Friday. JoAnna and I took another walk during the morning, stopping at Schroeder’s, a department store, for some café mocha at their coffee bar. During the early afternoon, Andy and I played catch with the football in the street in front of the Richard’s house (they live on a quiet street). Later on, at JoAnna’s suggestion, we walked to a nearby park to kick field goals over one of the goal posts. Unfortunately, all the entry gates were locked, so we couldn’t get in. I didn’t think it advisable for us to climb over the fence.



After supper (ham and scalloped potatoes – we had leftovers for lunch), we met Cindy in Manitowoc and went to see A Bug’s Life, the new computer-animated Disney film. It’s quite a visual feast, almost too much for the eyes to take in at one time and, for that reason, certainly worth a second viewing. The showing we attended was mostly parents with small (i.e., preschool) children, many of whom did not hesitate to ask their parents questions about what was happening in the movie. A couple parts of the movie seemed that they might be too intense for young kids. The initial appearance of the grasshoppers and of a monstrous looking red-and-yellow bird, was probably a jolting experience for the tykes in the audience, perhaps not so much for the shock value but rather the pounding volume of the soundtrack. It was a loud movie at times.

We left Two Rivers at 11 o’clock Saturday morning with the sun beating down on us as if were a warm Easter weekend. In fact, we saw golfers on the municipal course in Manitowoc. I was sweltering in the driver’s seat of the van, but every time I turned on the fan to let some fresh air in through the vents, JoAnna complained about being cold, so I could only leave the fan on for 30-second intervals. A few miles from home, though, JoAnna complained about being hot and opened her window.

Even though I reminded the boys that there would be no TV until the van was unpacked, I still didn’t get much help. Once I got everything put away and a load of clothes in the washer, I read for awhile. I started reading Tom Wolfe’ s new book, A Man in Full, last weekend and am really enjoying it. It’s a long book, almost 800 pages, but I’m already more than halfway through it.

JoAnna and I took a late afternoon walk, without jackets, and then went to 5 o’clock mass with the boys. Andy is now serving at mass every other month. JoAnna signed him up for this responsibility in September. Yesterday was his second time. After church we went out to eat and then spent a quiet evening at home.

Although the warm weather is still with us today, general conditions are not too pleasant. It’s overcast and I can see a barely perceptible mist falling. After eating some lunch, JoAnna and I are going Christmas shopping, the only important item on our list of things to do today.

We missed Larry, JoAnna’s brother, by seven hours. He’ll be in Two Rivers for the next two weeks. JoAnna plans to spend a few days there next week (Monday-Wednesday), as she can basically take the rest of the year off considering all the time she has put into her job already this year. She didn’t get the job offer from Tammy Baldwin and, earlier this month, gave her resignation at her current job effective at the end of the year. So now JoAnna has to do some serious job-hunting.

November 28, 1991

Thanksgiving at Tom and Mim's in Beloit.  A major houseful, including Rachel, Ruth, Ruthie, Arland, Carole, Stephen, Christina, Joan, Alan, Charles [Sellman], Jennifer, Lila, Gen, Charles [Stark], Signe, George, Carolyn, Jim, plus 5 or 6 of Tom's relatives as well as the Middleton contingent.  Driving conditions are treacherous both going and coming.

Weekend Update

Andy made a special, not entirely unanticipated request early yesterday afternoon.

“Do you think you could drive me back to Milwaukee today?”

He had dropped a hint the previous day with a casual mention that Jack was “having dinner with his parents on Sunday”. Rather than drive his own car, Andy caught a ride with Jack, his former roommate for three years running who graduated from UW-Milwaukee last spring. Jack now works full time for Manpower in Milwaukee.

“I have a paper I need to work on at the library,” he explained. “We have a group project in my management class that’s due at the end of the end of next week and I need to finish writing my section
of it.”

Now out of college, Jack doesn’t have to worry about unfinished assignments or exams to study for, which is why he was content to return to his Milwaukee apartment late Sunday night in order to extend the visit with his parents. All he has to do is show up for work Monday morning.

“We’ll need to leave now instead of after the Badger game,” I responded. “I’d rather now have to drive back home when it’s dark. Especially since it’s going to be raining all day.”

“That’s fine,” Andy agreed.

JoAnna gave me an aggrieved look, telegraphing her dismay that a quiet, relaxing afternoon at home had just been derailed.

However, since Andy had already planted a seed, his little sprout of a request didn’t take me by surprise.

“Do you have a book to listen to?” JoAnna asked, “But then you can listen to the football game on the radio,” she quickly added.

[Sidebar. I’m on a Joyce Carol Oates kick right now – nearing the end of Black Girl White Girl, the fourth book I’ve “read” by her in the past two months. Oates is a prolific and very accomplished writer of novels, short stories, and poetry. I particularly admire the style and structure of her novels.]

“Actually, I’ll probably listen to an audiobook,” I said, “and check on the score of the game with my iPhone.”

On the second half of the rain-soaked drive to Milwaukee, Andy and I listened to the game, which didn’t get off to a particularly promising start after a bonehead Wisconsin penalty led to a Penn State touchdown. Fortunately, it was the only points the Badgers allowed their opponents to score.

Andy and I talked throughout the 90-minute drive – about sports (of course), his final year at UW-Milwaukee, preparing for job interviews, family reminiscences. I have to confess I felt somewhat conflicted about his decision to return to Milwaukee a day early. On the one hand, I was looking forward to another full day of family activity, even if we just hung out at home and watched TV, though JoAnna had suggested we go to a movie Saturday evening. Conversely, I’m heartened by his growing sense of independence. It wasn’t that long ago when he talked about returning home after graduating from college and finding a job in the Madison area, a not uncommon occurrence in today’s tough job market for new graduates. Not to mention most everyone else, for that matter. I think Jack’s example has helped Andy visualize his other options.

Eddie returned to his apartment this afternoon, but not before we went grocery shopping. Instead of going to a movie last night – after more than three hours of driving in less than ideal conditions, I preferred to stay put once I returned home – JoAnna and Eddie went shopping for shoes and miscellaneous items of clothing. No suits, though! Eddie’s “dress for success” period is at least another year away, although it’s very possible he will graduate from UW-Madison in May 2012. Unlike his brother, Eddie has graduate school in his plans.

The Day After Thanksgiving 2006

Without any prompting, Andy was up at 4 o’clock Friday morning. In fact, he was showered, dressed, and ready to leave the house by the time we got out of bed, just long enough to see him off. No Black Friday crowds for us, thank you.

(Headline on the front page of today’s New York Times. Attention, Holiday Shoppers: We Have Fisticuffs in Aisle 2.)

Here’s a description of what took place when the Fashion Place Mall in Murray, Utah, opened its doors at midnight. Once inside, shoppers ransacked stores, overturning piles of clothes as they looked for bargains. A retailer’s dream – too many customers! – quickly turned into a nightmare, forcing store clerks to shut their doors, and only let people in after others left. The mall even briefly closed its outside doors to avoid a fire hazard.)

JoAnna and I did go shopping later in the day. By the late afternoon, the crowds had thinned out nicely. Except for the plethora of Christmas sale signs and merchandise, it really did seem like an ordinary shopping day at the stores we visited: Circuit City, Pier 1, Kohl’s, Williams Sonoma, Penney’s, and Target. We didn’t accomplish a whole lot, however. JoAnna bought Packer and Badger clothes for little Joseph, her nephew (and godson), and we found the perfect tablecloth and dish towels for our newly accented kitchen.

Eddie was disappointed to learn that leftovers were the extent of our supper menu.

“But it’s Friday,” he protested. “It’s supposed to be a take-out night.”

“Not on the day after Thanksgiving,” I noted.

In spite of working a 13-hour day, Andy remained energized through most of the evening. He went out to dinner with Gretchen and her family. I suppose with 31 people at their house for Thanksgiving, they had no leftovers. He went to bed at 10:00, needing to be refreshed for his 8:00 to 5:00 shift today. He should have a fairly substantial paycheck to cash next week. Hopefully, Mr. Hey Big Spender will remember to put a good chunk of it in his savings account.

The Day After Thanksgiving 1976

G & C. Merriam Co.

47 Federal Street

Springfield, MA

Friday was an extremely easy day at work. I spent most of the afternoon at the library. Half of the editorial staff had taken the day as a floating holiday leaving the office unusually quiet.

The Day After Thanksgiving 1970

On break from here, with not much to say.

Visit Mrs. P[eroksi], spend most of the day at Barb [Lucia]'s.

Thanksgiving Day 2004

JoAnna and I always give up our bedroom when her parents visit. With Uncle Albert assigned to Eddie’s room, and Eddie moved in with his brother, that left the two of us with the family room, where we slept on an inflatable mattress with a built-in, battery-operated pump. It beats sleeping directly on the floor, though after the first tossing-and-turning night, I wasn’t sure by how much. (Last night was a big improvement.) Eddie joined us on the couch, probably because his sprawling brother refused to share his bed, demanding that he sleep on the floor instead.

Thanksgiving morning, it took some careful maneuvering on my part to attain a fully upright, standing position. I feared that the pain in my lower back might incapacitate me, an unpleasant circumstance that I’ve been able to avoid for quite some time now. (Thursday night I took a Bayer back and body pain capsule and experienced an almost unbroken night’s sleep.)
JoAnna blocked my way and raised her face up to mine as I walked through the kitchen on my way to the bathroom.

“You don’t want to kiss me now,” I warned. “I have the worst taste in my mouth. I really need to brush my teeth.”

“Romantic” is definitely not one of the first adjectives that my wife would use to describe herself in the morning.

After JoAnna and her dad returned from 9 o’clock mass, the Thanksgiving dinner preparations began in earnest, though I had very little to do with them. I took a lazy approach to the holiday, stretching out on the couch in the family room, where Eddie and I did our father-son Bond-ing with Thunderball. To me – and Eddie heartily agrees – Sean Connery is the only true 007.

The adults played cards during the first half of the afternoon. Our game of choice has a variety of names – “Down and Up the River”, the most cumbersome, is the only one that comes to mind. During the first hand, everyone is dealt 10 cards. Trump is designated by turning over the top card of what’s left of the deck. Each player then bids on how many tricks he or she will take. A total of 20 hands are played in the following sequence: 10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1-1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10. As often as I’ve played this game, I’ve never understand how to keep score.
Wednesday’s cnn.com online poll asked the following question: What is your favorite part of Thanksgiving? Three choices were offered: food, parades, football.

And the percentages? 82%, 5%, and 13%.

No surprises there.

During the morning, the kitchen TV was tuned to the Macy’s parade, but nobody paid it much attention. From the bits and pieces I caught, the broadcast appeared to be a moveable stage of lip-synching acts with major-league kid appeal.

During our card game, we flipped back and forth between Bond and football, but nobody was much interested in watching the Colts embarrass the hapless Lions on their home field.

All of us would have voted for “food” as being our favorite part of the day.

Considering our menu, I don’t see how it could have been otherwise.

Roast Turkey

Whipped Potatoes

Oven-Baked Dressing

Gravy

Baby Carrots

String Beans

Pureed Yams Served in Orange Cups

Rolls

Relish Tray

Pumpkin Pie

Apple Pie

Pecan Pie

With so much food, the relish tray remained untouched for the most part. I concentrated on the turkey, potatoes, and dressing, with gravy drizzled over all three hefty portions.

Larry ate three helping of dressing and then was ready to go straight to dessert. No wonder his stomach protrudes so far beyond the waist of his pants.

Everyone was in an extremely lethargic mood after dinner, so much so that we didn’t even play cards. In fact, Alice went to bed at 9:00, followed shortly thereafter by Larry and Albert.

Thanksgiving Day 1979

Except for the two years in California (1971) and Montana (1974), I have always spent Thanksgiving with family or relatives. Barb and I showed great foresight not breaking tradition this year. I thoroughly enjoyed myself today.

I woke up too late to attend church with Ruth and Rudy, thus missing an opportunity to see Pastor Lavelle and his wife again. About ten minutes before eleven, I walked over to Salem church, figuring that by the time I walked the three blocks to get there, the special Thanksgiving morning service would be letting out. Somebody's timing was off. Not feeling like standing around, I continued my walk to Broadway looking for a drug store that sold newspapers. I found a coin-operated vending machine instead.

I woke up too late to attend church with Ruth and Rudy, thus missing an opportunity to see Pastor Lavelle and his wife again. About ten minutes before eleven, I walked over to Salem church, figuring that by the time I walked the three blocks to get there, the special Thanksgiving morning service would be letting out. Somebody's timing was off. Not feeling like standing around, I continued my hine instead.

Ruth had planned to serve dinner at 1:30, but we didn't sit down until 2:00. They were eighteen altogether: Ruth and Rudy; Gregg, Joyce, Marie, and Amy; Mim, Tom, and Rachel; Ford and June; Signe and George; Min and Lila; Ruthie, Barb, and myself.

After dinner, Tom, Barb, Gregg, and I played cribbage (partners). Tom and I stunned Gregg and Barb three games in a row. In fact, except for the last games, I always helped my partner to victory. Never before have I played cribbage so well. Lucky cards, Paul. Don't kid yourself.

Genevieve experienced seizures Tuesday and was immediately admitted to Swedish-American Hospital. Ruth, Ruthie, Signe and I went to visit her earlier this evening. She was sitting up and looked quite good. Ruth had been talking about Genevieve's series of violent seizures two years ago. (That must have been around the time of Frank's death.) Neither Barb nor I realized how devastating these seizures were. The consensus is that only a miracle kept Genevieve alive. Her seizures at this time were nearly constant. I remember the only time I saw Genevieve have one of her seizures. The Starks (Min, Lila, and Gen) were visiting in Warren shortly after we moved there from Great Falls. It happened while Gen and I were sitting at the kitchen table. Perhaps we were playing cards. One thing I remember with perfect clarity is how completely calm Lila was. She knew from experience just exactly what needed to be done. Although I didn't show it, I was totally freaked out. I must have worn a queer look on my face that gave away a hint of my fear. Nothing expressed the terror that was churning my insides. I had never seen anything like this happen to a person. The following summer, while we were vacationing in the Rockford area, I can remember practically hugging the car door handle, ready to jump out at the slightest sign of a convulsion, because I was stuck with sitting next to Genevieve in the front seat. The idiocies of ignorance.

Thanksgiving Day 1975

Thanksgiving was a pleasant holiday this year, no more no less. Gen fixed quite a spread for the main meal. Unlike the past few Thanksgivings, I ate past the point of comfort. After I finished my first plate, I had considered refusing seconds, but Gen gave me look which relayed the message to me that she would be insulted if I didn't eat anymore. So I served myself very moderate second helpings of turkey, squash, and salad, knowing it to be a mistake but feeling a foolish obligation to get this extra food down. My stomach punished me for this polite gluttony to the point where I had to refuse dessert. Later in the afternoon, to relieve a stagnant feeling in my stomach, I joined Ed, Gen, and Edna for a walk in the woods. I stayed for supper but left shortly thereafter, though I had no other engagements for the evening.

Thanksgiving Day 1965

Thursday morning I got up at 10. I got dressed and went downstairs. Mom, Dad, Gen [Mom's younger sister, from East Longmeadow, Massachusetts], and Ed [Gen's husband] were eating breakfast in the dining room. The kids were in the living room. It was nice to everyone again. When I saw Johnny I didn't notice much change in him, but he's four now and it was 2 years ago when I last saw him so there had to be some change. Later in the morning we all went up to Rimrock [Overlook in the Allegheny National Forest]. It was the second annual trip. Mom stayed behind and fixed dinner. We also stopped at the dam, so Ed and Gen could see what it was like. At Rimrock we walked all over the place. Dinner was soon ready when we got home and it was the usual Thanksgiving feast.  Mike [best friend] called in the evening and later debating over where we should go, we went to the show. Our other choice was the dance at the high school. Elvis Presley's newest movie, Harem Scarem, was on and it was real good, as all his movies are.

Go Pack! Beat the Lions!

The Day Before Thanksgiving 2009

We made near-record time completing the trip from Middleton to Warren: 11 hours and 15 minutes. Although we spotted numerous state police cruisers along the way – most of them with their lights flashing, the officer having pulled someone over – their presence had no deterring effect on drivers’ determination to exceed the speed limit. The flow of traffic in Ohio average 80 miles per hour. In fact, along a stretch along I-90 between Cleveland and Erie. I let the speedometer needle approach 90 miles per hour and didn’t gain any ground on the vehicles ahead of us.

Weather conditions improved during this portion of the trip. After a day of on-and-off rain, the sky turned clear by the time we reached Erie, and the temperature topped out at 53°. Wisconsin isn’t the only state to experience an unusually mild winter.

Both Dale’s and Mom’s faces were visible through the kitchen window once we reached the end of the driveway at 5:45 p.m. (EST). Mom appeared to do a double-take, as though she couldn’t believe what her eyes were seeing. That was probably due to my telling her to expect us between 6:00 and 7:00.

The eight of us – Larry and Kim joined us shortly after our arrival – sat around the dining room table for the meal that Mom prepared. At 89, she’s as competent as ever in the kitchen. And she never requests nor requires any assistance, though we do volunteer to help with the clean-up.

The Day Before Thanksgiving 1999

I called home at 3:15 to check in on Eddie.

“Hello,” said Alice in her gravely voice, the residue of more than forty years of smoking cigarettes.

“Well, hi!” I said, expressing genuine surprise. “When did you get in?”

“Ten minutes ago,” she responded.

“Is Eddie home?”

“He just walked into the house.”

Then Alice asked if there was anything she could do to start the preparations for tomorrow’s feast. She specifically mentioned cutting up celery for the dressing. I told her I’d call JoAnna at work to see what needed to be done first. I ended up leaving her a voice mail message.

There was a pile of sliced celery stalks when I returned home. Alice and JoAnna were on the same wavelength.

But I’m getting a little bit ahead of myself.

JoAnna called me minutes before I left the library.

“Could you pick up some Karo dark syrup on your way home?”

“Sure. I was planning to stop at Sentry anyway. Andy wanted me to get some ranch dressing, the regular kind, and we also need some V-8 and cranberry juice.” Andy gave a big thumbs-down to the fat-free Hidden Valley Ranch that he poured over his salad the other night, complaining that it tasted like glue.

I also told her that I was planning to leave work early so I could get a haircut, my first since I shaved off my beard.

When I parked in front of Great Clips, I looked through the windows and saw at least four people sitting in chairs, paging through magazines, waiting for their names to be called.

Might be a bit of a wait, I thought.

I walked inside and approached the counter.

“How long is the waiting list?” I asked a woman who had just hung up the phone.

“About 20 minutes.”

I gave her my name and then drove to Sentry, where I found everything but the Karo syrup. There was an open space on the display shelf, with a little sign noting that the item was on sale. I guess a significant number of other households will be having pecan pie for dessert on Thanksgiving.

I didn’t think I’d have enough time to check the shelves at Kohl’s, another grocery store in the same area of Middleton. Good thinking. My name was called less than a minute after I returned to Great Clips.

As soon as I could see the tops of my ears again, the woman cutting my hair was called to the front counter. She received a delivery of flowers, an arrangement of a dozen roses, all of them a different color. Did my eyes deceive me or are there indeed that many different varieties of roses?

“It’s not my birthday,” she said as she placed the flowers on a neighboring counter.

“So what is the occasion?” I asked playfully.

“I don’t know. I have no idea who they’re from,” she replied and then picked up a pair of scissors and a comb and resumed her work.

“Am I taking enough off?” she asked about my haircut, which make me wonder if she was purposely trying to change the subject.

I studied my reflection in the large wall mirror. Even with my beard, having my hair cut short always made me look younger. “You could probably take off another half inch,” I suggested.

This “50” thing is getting me too obsessed with my appearance. My unspoken personal goal seems to be anything to look less than 40. I’m striving for Jack Benny’s eternal 39.