Latine scribentes quod non facit profundam.
(Writing it in Latin doesn't make it profound.)
Friday, August 12, 2011
Monday, August 1, 2011
THE BEACH HOUSE
They walked slowly along the water’s edge at low tide. She picked up a piece of driftwood, and wrote, ‘I love you’ in the wet sand.
He took the stick, and added words so it read:
‘I WILL love you FOREVER'.
“Forever!” she said, rolling her eyes, softly laughing.
“What was your name again?” he asked.
They had gone to Road’s End each year since they began dating. They always waited until fall. The weather at the Oregon coast is best in the shoulder months—April and May, then again in September and October—and with summer vacations over, the town and beach were quieter.
At low tide, the beach seemed endless—the ocean stretching forever in the distance—and anything seemed possible. They held hands as they walked, watching the gulls bickering over edible treasures stranded by the receding water.
As the breeze began to pick up, they returned to the beach house. He built a fire as she opened a bottle of wine, carefully cut up an apple, sliced cheeses, and set it all on a board. She placed the board, the wine and two glasses on the window ledge, next to the long pillow-covered window seat. As the fire came to life, she opened the window just a bit, letting in the salt air and the sounds of the sea. He poured the wine, first in her glass, then his own, and set the bottle aside. He raised his glass, clicked it to hers and said, “Here’s to another year at Road’s End.” She looked down, then back at him, and said, “Here’s to forever.” She sipped from her glass, and as she set it down, the fire reflected in her eyes. She took his glass, set it next to hers, and reached her arms around him. As they held their quiet embrace, he felt the warmth of her tears on his shoulder.
There would be no forever for them. They would have today and tomorrow; perhaps a few more tomorrows, but not forever. When they were first lovers, they spoke of growing old together, but even as their love grew, they knew that their time together would be a sweet chapter, but not the whole story — and now they knew this chapter was mostly read. They were too different—or perhaps too much the same—but it wouldn’t last. They did love each other, but were never both fully committed at the same time. It always seemed that whatever one was holding back was just what the other needed at that moment. They spoke less and less of the future – at least not seriously.
Neither remembered who was first to make light of this disconnect; but somehow, ‘forever’ became their inside joke. They’d drop it in conversation when they were with friends, ‘This red light is taking forever’, or ‘I wish that movie could have gone on forever’. Only they knew what they meant, what they could never have, and how much it hurt. They chose Send in the Clowns—the very anthem of bad timing—as their song. ‘Isn’t it rich? Are we a pair? Me here at last on the ground, you in mid-air.’
He kissed the tears on her face, then her lips. “I really do love you”, he said as they entwined on the pillows, “And I will love you forever.” Beside the open window that evening at Road’s End, they made love – to the sound of the wind, the waves, and the inexorable incoming tide.
He took the stick, and added words so it read:
‘I WILL love you FOREVER'.
“Forever!” she said, rolling her eyes, softly laughing.
“What was your name again?” he asked.
They had gone to Road’s End each year since they began dating. They always waited until fall. The weather at the Oregon coast is best in the shoulder months—April and May, then again in September and October—and with summer vacations over, the town and beach were quieter.
At low tide, the beach seemed endless—the ocean stretching forever in the distance—and anything seemed possible. They held hands as they walked, watching the gulls bickering over edible treasures stranded by the receding water.
As the breeze began to pick up, they returned to the beach house. He built a fire as she opened a bottle of wine, carefully cut up an apple, sliced cheeses, and set it all on a board. She placed the board, the wine and two glasses on the window ledge, next to the long pillow-covered window seat. As the fire came to life, she opened the window just a bit, letting in the salt air and the sounds of the sea. He poured the wine, first in her glass, then his own, and set the bottle aside. He raised his glass, clicked it to hers and said, “Here’s to another year at Road’s End.” She looked down, then back at him, and said, “Here’s to forever.” She sipped from her glass, and as she set it down, the fire reflected in her eyes. She took his glass, set it next to hers, and reached her arms around him. As they held their quiet embrace, he felt the warmth of her tears on his shoulder.
There would be no forever for them. They would have today and tomorrow; perhaps a few more tomorrows, but not forever. When they were first lovers, they spoke of growing old together, but even as their love grew, they knew that their time together would be a sweet chapter, but not the whole story — and now they knew this chapter was mostly read. They were too different—or perhaps too much the same—but it wouldn’t last. They did love each other, but were never both fully committed at the same time. It always seemed that whatever one was holding back was just what the other needed at that moment. They spoke less and less of the future – at least not seriously.
Neither remembered who was first to make light of this disconnect; but somehow, ‘forever’ became their inside joke. They’d drop it in conversation when they were with friends, ‘This red light is taking forever’, or ‘I wish that movie could have gone on forever’. Only they knew what they meant, what they could never have, and how much it hurt. They chose Send in the Clowns—the very anthem of bad timing—as their song. ‘Isn’t it rich? Are we a pair? Me here at last on the ground, you in mid-air.’
He kissed the tears on her face, then her lips. “I really do love you”, he said as they entwined on the pillows, “And I will love you forever.” Beside the open window that evening at Road’s End, they made love – to the sound of the wind, the waves, and the inexorable incoming tide.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Bugs
Like anybody, I occasionally get a bug up my butt about one thing or another. But it seems like some folks are just running an entomology lab up there - and keep a bug for just about every occasion.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Purgatory
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With that in mind, we’d like to ask you to take a moment to answer a few questions about your survey experience. As with the service we provide, our surveys are also integrated in our continuous improvement process.
When you complete your survey feedback, we would request that you return it to us in person during normal working hours. We know you have choices, and could have chosen any city in which to exceed the speed limit. This is our way of recognizing that you chose ours.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Cindy's Uncle Bob
We went to Redding over the weekend for the Celebration of Life for Cindy’s Uncle Bob, who passed away in November. Here are a few of the highlights from an amazing life.
• During the height of the Great Depression, Bob moved from the family farm in Sugar Bush, Wisconsin to a logging camp in the Wisconsin North Country. He was 15 years old. His pay wasn't much more than room and board, but this was the depression, and room and board was pretty decent pay.
• In early 1940, when WWII started in Europe, but before Pearl Harbor and our active involvement, Bob responded to a military recruiter, and joined the Navy. He got a raise to room and board and $20 a month. He was aboard the USS Augusta, when it carried FDR to his meeting with Churchill in August, 1941, where the Atlantic Charter was created - outlining allied war aims, and defineing a vision of the post-war world.
• When the US declared war, Bob transferred to the Pacific, aboard a ship that was active in support of the US invasion of Guadalcanal. The ship was severely damaged (with the loss of over 400 sailors), and had to limp back to the US for repairs.
• Bob then transferred to the USS Bunker Hill—an aircraft carrier—which saw action in many of the major Pacific Theater campaigns in the second half of the war. In the spring of 1945, in action supporting the invasion of Okinawa, she took two direct hits from kamikazes, and also lost nearly 400 crew-members. My father was in this same battle, aboard the USS Enterprise—another aircraft carrier—saw this happen, and logged it in his diary. He was amazed that the Bunker Hill stayed afloat. Two days later, a kamikaze hit the Enterprise too - killing 12, and putting her out of action. Both ships were in Bremerton, Washington being repaired when the war ended.
• After the war, Bob got married, move to Hollywood, and opened a liquor and grocery store. Through a combination of timing, drive, intelligence, and a warm, charismatic personality, Bob became very successful, and became friends with many 'A-list' Hollywood celebs – many of whom ran up quite a tab during their lean years, before they became rich and famous.
• One of the businesses Bob got into was exporting lumber to Japan, and helping them rebuild after the war. Some of his kids have worked in that business, and a couple of them are fluent in Japanese. The war was over, and Bob looked forward, not back.
• I went to Bob's 80th birthday party about 7 or 8 years ago. Among the people who showed up with a couple of business associated who came from Japan to help him celibrate.
• The year before his 80th birthday, Bob climbed Mt. Whitney—the highest peak in the lower 48 states—with one of his sons, and a granddaughter, and went on to climb Mt. Shasta that year. (He also climbed Mt. Fuji with Japanese business associates within the couple years prior to that).
• Oh ... he had survived colon cancer in his early 70's, before all this climbing. He ate tons of carrot juice that he made himself, and swore that that was what got him back into things. I personally think it was his Sugar Bush upbringing.
There’s much more to his story, but these are a few of the highlights that were shared at his celebration.
I feel lucky to have known this fine man.
• During the height of the Great Depression, Bob moved from the family farm in Sugar Bush, Wisconsin to a logging camp in the Wisconsin North Country. He was 15 years old. His pay wasn't much more than room and board, but this was the depression, and room and board was pretty decent pay.
• In early 1940, when WWII started in Europe, but before Pearl Harbor and our active involvement, Bob responded to a military recruiter, and joined the Navy. He got a raise to room and board and $20 a month. He was aboard the USS Augusta, when it carried FDR to his meeting with Churchill in August, 1941, where the Atlantic Charter was created - outlining allied war aims, and defineing a vision of the post-war world.
• When the US declared war, Bob transferred to the Pacific, aboard a ship that was active in support of the US invasion of Guadalcanal. The ship was severely damaged (with the loss of over 400 sailors), and had to limp back to the US for repairs.
• Bob then transferred to the USS Bunker Hill—an aircraft carrier—which saw action in many of the major Pacific Theater campaigns in the second half of the war. In the spring of 1945, in action supporting the invasion of Okinawa, she took two direct hits from kamikazes, and also lost nearly 400 crew-members. My father was in this same battle, aboard the USS Enterprise—another aircraft carrier—saw this happen, and logged it in his diary. He was amazed that the Bunker Hill stayed afloat. Two days later, a kamikaze hit the Enterprise too - killing 12, and putting her out of action. Both ships were in Bremerton, Washington being repaired when the war ended.
• After the war, Bob got married, move to Hollywood, and opened a liquor and grocery store. Through a combination of timing, drive, intelligence, and a warm, charismatic personality, Bob became very successful, and became friends with many 'A-list' Hollywood celebs – many of whom ran up quite a tab during their lean years, before they became rich and famous.
• One of the businesses Bob got into was exporting lumber to Japan, and helping them rebuild after the war. Some of his kids have worked in that business, and a couple of them are fluent in Japanese. The war was over, and Bob looked forward, not back.
• I went to Bob's 80th birthday party about 7 or 8 years ago. Among the people who showed up with a couple of business associated who came from Japan to help him celibrate.
• The year before his 80th birthday, Bob climbed Mt. Whitney—the highest peak in the lower 48 states—with one of his sons, and a granddaughter, and went on to climb Mt. Shasta that year. (He also climbed Mt. Fuji with Japanese business associates within the couple years prior to that).
• Oh ... he had survived colon cancer in his early 70's, before all this climbing. He ate tons of carrot juice that he made himself, and swore that that was what got him back into things. I personally think it was his Sugar Bush upbringing.
There’s much more to his story, but these are a few of the highlights that were shared at his celebration.
I feel lucky to have known this fine man.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
W.E.M.L.
Maddie is teaching me sign language – at least one four-character phrase. You extent the three fingers between the thumb and pinky, and spread them. First you point them upward, then to the left, then downward, then make an ‘L’ with your thumb and forefinger and put it on your forehead. She demonstrates this for me a lot.
She usually demonstrates it for me after I tell her to do something (piano, homework, get up, etc.), but doesn't tell me what it means. Hmmm. W-E-M-L.
She usually demonstrates it for me after I tell her to do something (piano, homework, get up, etc.), but doesn't tell me what it means. Hmmm. W-E-M-L.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Procrastination
I start each day with the best of intentions ... 'Today, I'm going to get some procrastination in'.
But I get distracted; work, ferrying my kid, etc. etc. I get to the end of the day, and realize I haven't gotten around to it.
But I get distracted; work, ferrying my kid, etc. etc. I get to the end of the day, and realize I haven't gotten around to it.
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