On This Date in 1998

Artwork by Eddie

The first week of the boys being home alone proved to be a successful experiment. We didn’t regret our decision and now feel confident that Andy is mature enough to care for his younger brother. No more babysitters! The boys still have lots of room for improvement, though. JoAnna and I had to tell them – repeatedly – that our bedroom was off limited. Why they need to watch TV there when we have two other TVs in the house I can’t understand. We also had to remind them – again repeatedly – that the kitchen is the only room in the house where they can eat. It’s very easy to learn whether or not they’ve broken this rule. They’re not very good at cleaning up after themselves, scattered pieces of popcorn and cracker crumbs giving away their habit of grazing throughout the house. This rule, I’m afraid, is one that will need much reinforcement.

Andy survived his first week of football practice with ease. In fact, he very much enjoyed it. His team is already learning plays. On Thursday, he brought home a sheet with the diagrams of more than a dozen different offensive plays. I think he was supposed to study the over the weekend, but the piece of paper remained in the car until Sunday afternoon when I hand-delivered it to him and suggested he might want to prepare for Monday’s practice.

“I will, Dad,” he said, somewhat impatiently.

The sheet remained on the kitchen counter for the rest of the day.

I traveled to La Crosse on Friday for a Wisconsin Library Association board meeting at the Radisson Hotel. The August board meting is always held at the site of the next year’s conference. As a safety precaution, Andy checks in with me by phone twice a day at the library, so JoAnna reminded him, as I did numerous times Thursday evening, that I would be out of town all day when she left for work. La Crosse being a 2½-hour drive from Middleton, I left the house at 6:45, before the boys were out of bed. I figured that if anything was going to go wrong with this independent arrangement, this would be the day. Around two o’clock, the boys left the house and walked the two blocks to Walgreen’s to buy some candy. How do I know this? I found their empty bag with the sales receipt inside. Two Three Musketeers bars. Two packages of Starburst. (There’s something to be said for computer systems that can itemize individual purchases.) They had finished a bag of Chips Ahoy Thursday evening and needed something to satisfy their craving for sweets.

When they returned home, they found the front screen door locked. (My fault, I think. The only key Andy has is to the front inside door. (They would have exited the house by the side door. (Using good sense, the boys walked across the street to a neighbor’s house and called JoAnna at work. She drove home to let them in. I was pleased that the boys handled this situation so calmly.

Friday evening, JoAnna and I attended a catered picnic at Lakeview Park. This informal gathering provided an opportunity for council members and department heads to meet with the two candidates for the position of Middleton City Administrator. (The previous administrator retired last month.) Earlier in the summer, I had pushed for an opportunity for department heads to have some input in the hiring process. I succeeded, but unfortunately, a series of rotating interviews involving department heads was scheduled for this past Friday, when I was in La Crosse. Just so they would get some exposure to the library, I had a staff member give each candidate a tour. I learned from one of the council members on Saturday afternoon that the candidate I preferred was offered the position.

Saturday morning, the family did a “lit drop” for Rick Phelps, “our” candidate for the 2nd congressional district, delivering a campaign brochure to every residence in the 1st aldermanic district in Middleton. The boys, wearing their rollerblades, joined us during the first hour of this volunteer task. Eddie took a hard tumble on a cracked sidewalk, and though he was able to shake it off, he wanted to go home once we finished the area north of University Avenue. JoAnna and I took another hour to complete the area south of University, including a 10-minute rest stop at the Bavaria Restaurant, so she could have a cup of coffee. I quenched my thirst with a large glass of grapefruit juice.

As a reward for our efforts, JoAnna took us out to lunch at Pasqual’s, a restaurant that specializes in southwestern cuisine. Tired or ordering my usual chicken fajita burrito, I tried the beef quesadilla and think I may have found a new favorite. JoAnna usually orders a chicken taco salad when we eat here and didn’t change her ways on Saturday. Andy is partial to the double beef and bean taco. Eddie is happy with a hot dog off the kid’s menu.

During the afternoon, I sat on the bench along the south side of the house and read 50 pages of Cloudsplitter, the latest book by Russell Banks, who will be giving the keynote address at this year’s WLA conference, and enjoyed the scenery, something I rarely get to do. Due to our busy schedules, the bench is usually nothing more than a decorative touch. The boys alternated between watching TV and rollerblading. JoAnna napped and then finished up a couple of small, isolated neighborhoods that we had missed during the morning.

The boys were rollerblading fiends this past weekend. Not only were they outside a lot, but they also lobbied for a trip Saturday evening to Fast Forward, a indoor skating rink, but JoAnna said she was too tired for rollerblading and I’m too wobbly to venture out onto hard, slippery floor where kids are speeding around in circles. We ended up going bowling at the Sport Bowl, located two blocks from where we live. We rolled two games, no bumper pads this time. Nobody set the lanes on fire.

Although I had been keeping a tight grip on my wallet, I agreed with the rest of the family that we would go out to eat afterwards. After some debate, we agreed on Old Chicago, a pizza and pasta place, one of our regular haunts. Barb would have liked our waiter; he looked like Andre Agassi before he lost his hair and got pudgy. Once we returned home, we played 5/6s of a round of Trivial Pursuit, the blue-izers against the brown-izers. By 10:30 we were all ready for bed, and it would have taken us another half hour to finish the game. The brown-izers won.

The nighttime calm didn’t last too long. Eddie woke up in the middle of the night, crying hysterically. JoAnna got out of bed first.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him pleadingly.

“I don’t know,” he said repeatedly, whenever we tried to get at what was bothering him. Did he have a nightmare? Was he sick? He wouldn’t tell us anything.

In exasperation, unable to calm him down, we just left him alone. I returned to the bedroom and JoAnna sacked out on the couch in the family room. Andy, if I recall, slept through all this hubbub. When I got out of bed at 7:30, after a very restless sleep, I found Eddie in his own bed, a rare occurrence lately. Everyone else was still sleeping. I retrieved the Sunday papers from the front stoop and stretched out on the living room couch and read. Eddie was the first to stir; he had to go to the bathroom. I intercepted him as she started to walk across the living room and guided him back to his bedroom. I talked to him about what happened during the night and emphasized the fact Mom and Dad become worried if he can’t tell us what is wrong when he is upset. I thought he should get some more sleep, which he did. He didn’t get up for good until after 9:00.

Sunday was a day to catch up on chores around (inside and outside) the house. Laundry, cleaning, shopping, yard work. As they did on Saturday, the boys either watched TV or rollerbladed, their destination being Elm Lawn School, where they usually ran into friends of Andy’s. I think they went through this cycle at least four times. They were always home within an hour of one of their departures, though. They spent most of the early evening at a neighbor’s house playing with a boy Eddie’s age. Surprisingly, because of their proximity, Eddie and Adam don’t get together that often but always seem to get along well when they do.

We’re all in good health. The boys seem increasingly eager for school to start. I think they are getting a little bored living an unstructured life.

On This Day in 1998: Monday, March 23

Considering the number of times Andy called you last night, I should probably offer to pay my folks’ new phone bill. He certainly was all fired up about the game. I knew the outcome without asking as soon as I heard his groan of disappointment at 11:05. What a heartbreaking loss, huh?

On Friday morning before I dropped the boys at school, Eddie’s thoughts were not yet completely focused on the trip. While taking care of my last-minute packing, I overheard him say to Andy, “ wish we could leave on Saturday.” Once he considered the full impact of leaving school early, he realized he’d be missing art class.

“But Eddie, if we left tomorrow, we wouldn't be able to stay in a motel,” I explained.

Suddenly art class wasn’t so important anymore.

Eddie repeatedly reminded me to bring along my Walkman. He didn't mention what music he wanted to listen to, so I offered, “Let’s take the Beatles tapes.” We listened to the early Beatles between Rockford and Chicago, the boys impressed with my ability to sing along with every song, rarely stumbling over the words.

During Saturday’s road trip, Eddie listened to the first side of the early Beatles tape three times. He bobbed his head in time to the music and sang the words to some of the choruses. “She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah.” That bit of exuberance brought a quick cry of “Be quiet, Eddie” from his brother, who was quizzing Dad with questions from the newest edition of Trivial Pursuit.

The Holiday Inn where we stayed in South Bend is literally a flying leap from the Interstate. Due to he placement of the exit, we had to drive a circuitous two miles in a driving snow on slushy streets before reaching the front door to the motel.

The boys were so excited about getting to the swimming pool that they dashed away with the plastic card to open the door to our room before I had a chance to gather up the luggage I had dumped at my feet. They found their way to room 212 without incident, but I did have a talk with them about the importance of responsible behavior – not getting all wrapped up in the excitement of the moment. For the rest of the evening, I didn’t have a single problem with them.

The arrangement at the South Bend Holidome is similar to the one in Stevens Point, although where we stayed the pool was completely enclosed, separated by a glass wall from the arcade. Although I saw no signs to confirm this, it appeared that motel management preferred that guest not use the arcade area in their dripping wet or completely dry swimwear. I observed everyone there wearing street clothes.

The pool was 4’8” at its deepest, and the shallow end was indeed very shallow, so Eddie didn’t need to wear his floatation device. At this request, we had left it in the room anyway. After battling some of the ruggedest Chicago rush-hour traffic I’ve ever encountered and dealing with snowy and slippery condition during the last hour of the trip – we counted at least a half dozen cars that had skidded or spun off the road – I enjoyed the therapeutic effects of the warm pool water. I was ready to stretch out on a poolside chaise lounge when the boys announced that they were done with their swim.

I think that Andy was secretly hopig that the snow would keep us stranded in South Bend for an extra day. He and Eddie had made a few acquaintances Friday evening, which made our present location, in his mind, the best place to be. He exhibited some resistance as I pushed to get us on the road. You know the symptoms. The elongated, “Nooooo!” in answer to any question. Whining. A scowl upon his face. Fortunately, it was a short-lived performance.

We stopped at a Bob Evans for breakfast. Andy, of course, ordered lunch. Eddie inhaled his bacon but only nibbled at the edges of his silver dollar pancakes. My entrée was not quite a scramble, not quite an omelet, but included eggs, diced potatoes, sausage, gravy, and grated cheese. Not the healthy heart selection either.

Our Saturday road trip was uneventful. Andy slept for on hour. Traffic was surprisingly light.

The road trip continued.

Grandma greeted the boys with a shriek of delight, her day-long, pent-up expectations bursting forth like water breaking through a dam. Grandpa got up out of his chair in the dining room, shuffled to the edge of the carpet, and stood unsteadily in the doorway. Even though his eyes were teary, I had the strange, unsettling sensation that he wasn’t quite sure what all the commotion was about. I thought I heard him mumble something about “going to” rather than “coming from”. His confused condition, his obviously worsening case of Parkinson’s, put a damper on the initial moment of reunion for me.

Naturally, Grandma had the dining room table set and dinner just about ready to be served. She had prepared two casserole dishes: one mostly cubes of chicken with dressing pressed into a baking dish, the other a very tasty spinach-and-rice combination.

After supper most of us remained around the dining room table to play Trivial Pursuit, at Andy’s request. The Pennsylvania team beat Wisconsin.

Sunday morning I debated whether or not to be the dutiful son and attend church with Mom, but instead I took an hour-long walk, picking up a New York Times along the way. When I returned home, Dad was sitting alone, in silence, in the living room. I joined him there to read the paper, but the quite soon started to spook me. (Dad is very close to the point where he can no longer carry on a conversation.) I asked him if he wanted to watch TV. He surfed for awhile, demonstrating some remaining manual dexterity, but found nothing of interest. I offered to put on a CD. I selected a Mozart recording and that seemed to momentarily perk him up. I saw a hint of life in his face.

November 9, 1991

Barb is up surprisingly early.  The reason is obvious.  She's made an appointment to have her hair done.  The rest of us to out to Perkins for breakfast.  Eddie is an absolute angel.  He chows down on pancakes and sits in his high chair looking cute.

Later in the morning JoAnna has a meeting with Dick Wagner, and Barb spends about an hour in front of the bathroom mirror redoing her hair.  Why does she have this obsession with her appearance?  She never goes anywhere.  Besides herself, who is she trying to look good for?

I do the laundry, clean out and reorganize the bathroom closet (once that room is free), and transport the rotting pumpkins on the front stoop to the compost pile in the back yard.

We have company for supper:  Larry and Martha and Michael, Chris and Diane.   We play the 60s version of Trivial Pursuit and call it an evening shortly after 9.  Not that many years ago, I'd just be warning up to a night of sheepshead, which would probably go to 1 or 2 or sometimes 3 a.m.  There's a one-word explanation for the major lifestyle change:  parenthood.

August 10, 1991

The weather is perfect of laying out in the sun.  There's enough of a breeze to keep our bodies from sweating.  I lay out on the floating dock with JoAnna, Barb, and Diane until I feel parts of my body pinking out.  During the afternoon, six of us drive into Tomahawk for pie.  Later in the afternoon, I turn down a boat ride and enjoy an hour of solitude on the dock, reading a Shirley Jackson short story anthology.  "The Lottery" doesn't have the impact I thought it would.  I make a mental note to read up on the controversy.  

Once the group is together again, we watch the Packers game, cook out, and play Trivial Pursuit.  JoAnna and I win.  Bedtime is 1 a.m.   Only a couple of beers today, so I won't have to worry about a hangover.