Wednesday, August 14, 2024

Remembering my brother Gary December 1948 -- August 2024

Is there anything I can say about my brother Gary that most of you do not already know?

Until a few years ago, I didn't realize that siblings born in the same year were called "Irish Twins." People (even close relatives) have called us by the wrong name all our lives. Perhaps Gary's name was easier to remember. My wife even thought I was Gary when we first met. When Gary got sick (and that is not a strong enough word for it), people would come up to me and ask how I was (thinking I was Gary). My usual reply would be, "I'm still hangin' in there." I didn't want to call them out on their mistake or embarrass them, so I would play along, knowing what Gary's reply would probably be. Gary didn't like to dwell on his problems. He was more of a suffer-in-silence type. But some of us are here to share the Gary we knew and loved. I was asked to write a book about my Brother, but that would require a lot of remembering, and my memberin' ain't what it used to be, so I'll just tell you some of the highlights, the more unforgettable things.

Gary learned to walk before he could crawl. Mom said it was so he could keep up with me. By the time we were 2, we looked like real twins. Mom even dressed us alike. And we were inseparable, a team. Everything we did, we did together, even getting a bath. We got the same things for Christmas; everything was the same. We shared the same bed, including our crib, until we were twelve.

Mother told me that when Dad painted the house, Gary and I decided to help. (We were probably 5.) Gary literally got into the bucket of paint—what fun that must have been! I'm told I got in as well, and Mother spent the rest of the day cleaning the paint off us.

The next thing I remember (and we must have been about 6) was our first time driving Dad's car. You need to know that leading up to this, our dad would sometimes let us sit on his lap steer, so we probably thought we were ready for the big time. The car was a push-button start (we knew how that worked; we had seen Dad do it a hundred times, we had the steering down pat, but the pedals we didn't know about. Anyway, Gary got on the floor to work the pedals, and I stood at the wheel like a Captain of a ship… I pushed the button…and we were off (albeit in reverse). I remember looking through the windshield and watching Dad chase after us. I guess he caught us after running about the length of a football field just before we got to Highway 224.  

We even started school together after a traumatic experience on my own on the first day alone. Mom decided I was probably too young anyway. Mother kept me home until the following year, and Gary and I went together. At that time, we went to Markle School, and it stayed that way until we were headed into 5th Grade at Rock Creek. We walked to school together. If we had a nickel, we would leave early, go to the gas station, and get a candy bar to share. Mother bought us new coats, vinyl on the outside, and hoods one winter. This was fantastic; we decided if we flipped on our backs, we could slide down the hill on the snow on our way to school. (We ruined the coats pretty quickly.) For some reason, the good folks at Rock Creek School thought we should be separated. Gary was forced to repeat the 4th Grade (that angered Gary, forced to repeat the 4th Grade, and that anger lingered for many years. As he saw it, I was the one in the wrong class, not him). All this time, he has been able to keep up with his older Brother just fine. Now he was being told for the 1st time he couldn't.

We still would spend the summers together. Climbing trees, swimming, playing baseball, Scouts, and the summer of the great walnut wars. (I can elaborate on that if you want to hear it.)

This was also the beginning of the competition between us. Gary didn't like being 2nd. Now, I was getting to do things 1st. It was also the beginning of the "Gary Way." I got a bike first, and then Gary got his, which was bigger and better. I got a car first (that I was supposed to share with Mother), then Gary got a car; he bought himself (better than mine) and didn't have to share. This led up to his 1st being called "Krash." He wrecked that car and two of Dad's, plus we were in a car wreck together. Mike Meier's dad's brand-new car. Mike was driving, I was in the passenger seat, and Gary, Gary Shroyer, and Eric Thomas were in the back. (there's that together again), and Gary ended up with a broken leg; I think Eric broke a collar, and Shroyer learned how to swear. During these teenage years, we fought and wrestled while Dad stood there and watched. We didn't used to do that. Looking back, which was sad for us, we had been a team until that fateful 5th Grade.

But Gary was better than me...better looking and better at basketball, although neither of us could beat Dad. Gary was better at baseball and made it to Pony League; I never got further than the farm team. Gary was better at track, better at fishing, and better with girls. The only thing I did better was play the piano, so he played drums.

Gary loved music, Rock-n-Roll, and singing, even if it was off-key. He might have been deaf, but he still could sing Mule Train.

In 1967, I went to the service, and Gary had to stay home (he couldn't pass the physical a problem with his ears; they said..." swimmers' ear," they called it, and we had spent a lot of time at the pool. If the pool was open, we would be there. [little did we know then that this "swimmers' ear" was just the beginning of Gary's long war with NF2, also at that time, we did not know that our mother was 3 years into her battle with NF2, which Doctors earlier chalked up her hearing problems to just nerves dying]. Instead of going to the Army, Gary went to college to study business and the art of meat cutting. But that was cut short due to his "swimmer's ear"; he got sick and had to give it up after about 6 weeks.

I want to say that whatever medals I got in the Army, Gary deserved them more. Bronze Star...Gary earned one for the courage and bravery he showed us. Combat Infantry Badge...he certainly faced an enemy just as deadly and for a much longer time. Gary deserved a Purple Heart for all the wounds he received, which far outnumbered mine. Unlike me, Gary never seen his enemy face to face; he could never attack it, and it was never a fair fight. Gary was the hero.

When I got home from the service, Mother asked me when I would get married. She said she wanted grandkids. I told her to talk to Gary. He's the one with all the girlfriends. But, thanks to Gary, I got married 1st. He told me about the new "hot blonde" at "Bippies"... (he said that sarcastically)," She is just right for you." He just knew I would strike out because everyone else had. Well, I didn't strike out. I hit a home run instead.

I want to talk about Gary the man. The man who never quit. During his time as assistant manager at the Country Square Mall grocery (something he was very good at), he had surgery for one of his tumors. Upon returning to work after a quick recovery (I say quick because nothing kept Gary down for long.) He was demoted to "stock boy," they considered him disabled; they underestimated Gary. Gary was pissed, and we talked about it, and he was mad; his feeling of self-worth had been crushed by people he trusted. I told him he could work for me when he'd had enough. A couple of weeks later, he said he was ready. Gary came to work, and boy did he. He ran this one machine (that I found hard to control). For him, it was a piece of cake, pie, in Gary's case.

Wherever Gary worked, he always did his best. Driving a semi-truck, delivering milk (he had his own route), or making concrete blocks at Madison Silos.

I should I tell you about his love of orange juice? Gary loved it; he'd bring it to work and drink it instead of pop. Well, he noticed the bottle was going down quickly, and he knew someone was helping themselves to his juice, and Gary was sure of the who. Gary's solution…he brought two bottles, and only one of them was half juice, half urine. The next break we took, Gary got out the 2nd (hidden bottle), took a big gulp, and offered Shorty some of the orange juice; Shorty said no…it tasted funny. That took care of that problem.

One more Madison Silo story. We were returning from somewhere; Gary and I were in separate trucks. We were coming across 224 heading for Markle and the Madison Silos plant. We were passed Uniondale on the straight-a-way, and Gary passed me peddle to the metal, standing up, driving. I thought he was trying to show off. Gary beat me to the plant and was already inside. After a few minutes, he came out of the bathroom; I asked what that was all about. He said he was farting, the seat was bouncing up and down, shit in his pants, the seat bouncing was packing it up his ass, so he stood up. Of course, I had to swear to secrecy on that one.

Gary did his best to enjoy life beyond his sometimes-limited ability. He always worked hard, did for others, and did things he shouldn't have. I've talked to Kathy so many times over the last 50 years, and every time, it always included, "Do you want to hear what your brother did today?"

Gary's humor...he always made me laugh. Not everybody would catch on to his sarcasm, or maybe it was wit, I don't know. Once, when he was at the rehabilitation hospital recovering after one of his many surgeries, I would go over during lunch hour to help him and to help with some of his rehab. One time, we were walking down the long hall with the physical therapist, and she asked him if he wanted to stop (sensing that he might be tired; it had been his longest walk yet); Gary said, "No... why? Are you tired?" You've all seen these beads on loops of wire that they put out for kids to play with, usually in waiting rooms...the occupational therapist had Gary push the beads along the wire from one side to the other. He did it very slowly, one bead at a time. Then she asked him to push them back, which he did, but all of them at once. She asked him to do it again. Gary said, "What for? You'll make me push them back." Then we went to the psychologist, who assumed by Gary's looks and his slurred speech that his surgeries had made him retarded. (Everybody thought that; they thought of our mother that way too. That she had become retarded from her surgeries. Believe me, both had their right mind.) Anyway, the psychologist kept asking him stupid questions, like how old are you? What's the color of your hair? Stupid stuff. Gary would give her stupid answers, 6, orange, etc. She didn't find it amusing, and it just confirmed her assumptions. I told Gary, keep it up, and they'll keep you here longer. Gary was thoroughly enjoying screwing with these folks. Gary would do something they asked correctly, and they would be like, "Good boy, that's a good boy." He knew he could do it all along; he just wanted to toy with them like a cat with a mouse.

Kristi told me to be brief, so I'll close with...Gary always made me smile and laugh; we did that over the past 75 years. Now, he is in Heaven, a reward he has truly earned, and he still makes me laugh when I think of him. I hope he brought joy to all of you, and your hearts will smile when you remember him. And when it is my turn to leave this earth. Gary will be there waiting for me and gloating about how he got there first.

Just one more little tib-bit: since Gary died in Maricopa County, Arizona, he will still be able to vote this year.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"The Walnut Wars"

We used to have a small barn that housed horses and several carriages. Joe Gensic was now using it to store equipment, and we were supposed to stay out. The barn had a sliding door in front and one in back, although the one in back was three feet up from the ground. There was also a tiny hayloft, which was too small to stand upright. Gary and I thought this barn would make the best fort ever. We cut a hole in the roof above the loft and made it like a hatch so we could flip up and stand like a lookout. We also rigged the back sliding door with a weight, pully, and a rope to open the door. We could then ride our bikes in the front door, pull the rope, and ride down a ramp out the back if we needed to escape quickly. Everyone knows a good fort must have a defense system against attacks. We didn't have guns, and slingshots didn't have enough range, but we did have an abundant supply of walnuts, green walnuts, just a little smaller than a baseball. Neighborhood kids could also get walnuts, but we had our own tree. We stocked the loft with walnuts, and some were by the doors. Kids would walk down the street past the back door. We would pop up through the hatch, pelt them with a walnut or two, and then duck back under the roof. It didn't take long for them to figure it out, and they would return with walnuts. We couldn't be beaten. With our lofty position on the barn roof, nobody could get close enough to throw a walnut and hit us without sustaining a severe pounding from above.  I think a couple of other kids joined our winning team. I can't remember how long the wars lasted, but we did use the fort for at least a couple of years after that.

“Three Bridges”

There were three bridges close to home. The first was the bridge leading to Markle Park and Pool. It was a rickety old iron bridge. Whenever a big truck crossed it the bridge would rattle and shake. We were never allowed to cross it on our own. If we wanted to go swimming (which we did every day in the summer. We had to go down to Karen Crosby’s house and wait for her to put on her suit. Then, she would go with us to cross the bridge, but not if a truck came.

The second bridge was the covered bridge just outside of town. It was old and covered with wood siding, and cars still regularly used it. We would peddle our bikes out there and hide them out of sight. We would climb on it, under it and inside the roof rafters. Once inside, we would wait for a car, once the car was inside the bridge we would start yelling and hide.

Bridge number three was also an iron bridge (which I think is still there). We would climb up on that one too, wait for a car, and try to spit on the windshield, after which we would try to hide. Hiding was a little harder because of the openness of the bridge.  Great fun.

Thursday, December 29, 2022

Greetings and salutations, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year December 2022 Hope all of you had a wonderful 2022. I have nothing funny to report on the year. My year started with further tests on my heart at Parkview Hospital. The results were that I needed a partial engine overhaul, so they cracked open my chest and did a triple by-pass surgery. Then wired it back together with the promise in 6 months I’d feel like a new man. (I’m still waiting.) Having your chest cracked open is no walk in the park (If you had it you know what I mean, if you haven’t, I hope you never will.) The recovery is the tough part, lordy that hurts for a long time. I was probably the worst patient Parkview has had in a while, I couldn’t get out of there soon enough, too many rules. They have a beeper on the bed and the chair, and won't let you get up and down when you want. Wanted to follow me into the bathroom. Wanted me to get up and walk around, but then no one is there to help you. Bugger it all, I figured I could do just as well at home, and after 5 days of continued griping they let me out. I did better at home. I was told I couldn’t drive for 8 weeks, Hahaha, I was back behind the wheel in 4 days. Told me I wouldn’t be able to work for 3 months, Hahaha, 10 days and I was back. (Yes, I still work, 5 days a week, plus the “honey do list”) I still couldn’t \ can’t do a lot of the things there “plumbing” repair was supposed to fix. Still can’t mow the lawn, so I bought a Z-turn rider (boy is that thing fun, I don't mind mowing now. It even has a cup holder). And that pretty much concludes my excitement for 2022. I’ve been busy with a lot of follow up appointments ever since, including 6 this December. They are going to try to fix my back, again, and look at my kidneys, so next year we’ll have a report on that. Good news, my lungs seem okay, at least I’m still breathing, as well as sitting up and taking nourishment (too much sometimes.) Update12/23, guess I have a bulging disc at L4. Just finished physical therapy, and it has helped a lot, but not a cure…oh well :) Cindy has been busy mostly taking care of her children (I’m talking about her dogs. I'm not going to tell you how many we have, but it is too many). We \ she had a few new births this year and passed on new puppies to happy new owners. Although “owner” is a bit of a misnomer, I think our dogs own us. Spoiled rotten all of them, and they can be quite demanding. I mean who do they think they are telling us when they get a treat. I mean no one ever gave me a treat every time I peed outside. And, I know what would have happened if I growled at Dad because he wanted to sit in his chair. And just because Dixie decides to sleep in my bed doesn’t give her the right to pick any spot she wants, it is my bed. I kid, we love them all, and they bring a lot of joy (sometimes) to our home. I can’t sit in my chair without Dixie, Molly and Teddy on my lap, always. Cindy can’t sit in her chair without little Joey behind her, his head on her shoulder. Cindy is the Pied Piper of dogs. Wherever she goes, they trot right along behind, especially if she goes to the kitchen. When she eats, she has to get enough to share, and they are not picky. Those dogs will eat anything. If I go to the kitchen and get something to drink, no problem. But, if I open the refrigerator or touch the cookie jar then the dogs start snooping to see what I've got. I've tried to hide my booty, and pretend I don't have anything in my hand, but it doesn't work. Kinda hard to fool that nose of theirs. They can smell a cookie a mile away. And if you are carrying a dish, especially a bowl, watch your back, and don't leave it unattended. They are good at licking bowls, clean enough to put back in the cupboard. Their favorite treats are “Twizzlers” black licorice and “Good & Plenty” candy. I have to give a shout out to the Tazza Cafe. The best coffee shop in town. The every morning meeting place for a bunch of us seasoned gentlemen. Where we commiserate and solve the world’s problems, and compare aches and pains. Amanda (the owner), and the other lovely baristas do a good job of looking after us old farts. My Dad and his buddies had their “Gut Buster Club”, now I guess it’s my turn. Same lies, just told by another generation. We tell tall tales from our past 70+ years on earth. Our eldest member is 90. Most are Vets. And from all different walks of life, lawyer, construction, salesman, gas company, retired military, music teacher, office worker, Republicans & Democrats. The world could benefit from our wisdom Problem is no one outside the coffee shop is listening. Brian is still here, down in his man cave, nothing new to report on him. He does 3 things well, eating, watching TV and laundry. Mostly I just need help with the heavy stuff. I suppose that is my fault for letting myself get outta shape. When we are younger we wait for the day when we can sit on our butt in an office instead of actually having to “work” for a living. Now I'm thinking maybe that wasn't such a good thing. Should've joined a gym, but that would be work. Tracy has moved back home, probably temporary though. She is a good cleaner, laundry girl and organizer, and we need that around here, so she is a big help. Between people and dogs, we have a full and busy house. I'm sometimes glad to go to work, and escape. Peace and Joy to all, Alan, Cindy, Tracy, Brian, and the furry crew Meet Taffy

Saturday, December 18, 2021

Christmas 2021

 

And just like that (finger snap) it is Christmas again. (2121). 


    Jumping Jehosphat, this last year went by quick. Among the major events this year, the Capitol riots, the Texas winter storm, and Kim Kardashian filing for divorce from Kanye West. And let us not forget Covid is still around, despite the promises made by our current President, and the vaccine. And, if you thought your “ship was coming in,” sometime this last year, you're out of luck, it's stuck in Long Beach Harbor waiting to dock. Which brings up shortages. If there is any I haven't seen it. We've just had a little shortage of money because the prices are jacked up beyond reason. We've been able to find just about everything we need when we shop. The only other shortage seems to be in the patience department. Mine seems to be getting thin, and worn out lately. We need a store where you can get more or new patience, or at least get them repaired. Maybe it's available online and I just haven't seen it yet. They sell a lot of drugs on TV, and the people taking them seem happier afterwards. The side effects might kill you, but you'll be happy. But no drugs for increasing your patience, Relaxodril or Controlitol sound good, for those suffering Wait-itis or Intolerancia.  

    Speaking of health, I guess not much has changed for us this past year. Cindy has been struggling with some sort of infection. Her face is all broken out, like some kind of rash. We thought from her wearing a mask, anyway several different antibiotics later and it hasn’t gone away yet. She did begin to notice that it cleared up a little bit when I'm not here, but when I got home she started to break out again. Who knows, maybe she is allergic to me. Brian still on the mend down in his man-cave, I don’t think he will ever be completely healed and able to work again. Me, I thought I was having a heart attack while on vacation in Michigan this past August, turns out it may have just been heartburn, Jury is still out. I had a follow up EKG, and ECG, I guess my pumper part is still good. Then they followed that up with a “stress test.” I flunked that, guess I should’ve studied harder. Next up is another consultation with a different Cardiologist and procedure in the cath-lab in January. 

   I think most of life can be one big stress test in one way another. Growing up in the big city of Markle wasn't much of a stress, just clean your room, don't be late for supper, and don't get arrested. EZ-PZ. School, no pressure there...just don't fail...EZ-PZ.. The Army was simple, follow orders, don't try to be a hero, keep your head down, and number 1, DON'T GET SHOT. Working, another EZ-PZ, show up on time and do your job, simple as that. The stressful stuff is the rest of life, marriage and kids, but not always mind you, and paying bills (those never stop). You all know I love my wife, our kids, our dogs, etc. they give me much of the joy in my\our life\lives, and we've survived 50+ years together, and Cindy hasn't killed me yet. Life has been pretty good, a few bumps and potholes in the road. We dodge our share, and had to stop and fill in a few of the holes, but have made it far on this roller coaster highway. I guess it's all downhill from here (in more ways than one). And just to keep you up to date, I have not finished the patio yet, and unless the Dr’s say my ticker is a-okay, it may not get completely finished. We’re “expecting.” More puppies, that is, due in 2-3 weeks. We’ve got people on a waiting list for our pups, good thing too or this place will be a bigger zoo than it already is. 😊

   So far, I’m still working everyday, and start my day with a trip to the coffee shop, the Tazza Cafe. That is almost an absolute must. There's about 6-8 of us older gentlemen who try to set the world right every morning, but we're just crazy ole farts. Meanwhile Cindy stays home and takes care of the children (dogs), and I don’t know what I would do if I actually retired, probably go stir crazy. Although, there are a lot of naps I’ve missed over the years, and they won’t take them themselves, I could do some catching up on those.  

   Grandson Justin is living with us for the time being. He got a job here in Fort Wayne at Dollar Tree, soon to be Dollar & a Quarter Tree. Justin was living in Monroeville with his Dad, about 20 mile from us, and since he hasn’t got his driver's license yet...by living here we get to drive him to work. Meanwhile he is helpful around the house to do the heavy lifting for me, and other stuff Cindy can’t get me to do. I hope he’s still here when it comes time to shovel snow. He also sits on the bench with me at Walmart, while Cindy shops, and we watch the Wal-martians. If he’s still here come spring, he can finish the work on the patio. Grandson Chase is working at a potato chip factory, just like Cindy used to. He doesn’t like it much, but it's a job. I'm sure all our grandkids will figure it out someday. Although, at 74 I'm not sure I've figured it all out yet. The rules in the game of life keep changing, and nobody tells you. I hear we're supposed to be "woke" now, what's that? The dog woke me this morning. Is that it? The garbage truck woke me up yesterday morning, maybe that's it. I was taking a shower and somebody flushed the toilet that sure as hell woke me up. Here is another newbie: Vax, double-vaxxed, unvaxxed and anti-vaxxer plus boosted. I know these are all about the vaccine, now known by the “street” name Fauci Ouchie. 😊

    Merry Christmas 🎄 Happy Holidays, and maybe next year won't go bye so quickly.

    Alan. Cindy, Brian and our "children"


Thursday, December 24, 2020

Christmas Letter 2020

 



Merry Christmas, HO, HO, HO Christmas Season 2020

     2020, what a year! Toilet paper shortage, who would have ever thought such a thing was possible? Store shelves have been empty in the past, milk, eggs, bread...during a winter storm, but toilet paper? The world is truly going crazy. This has been a year to remember for sure, especially in politics...but we won’t go there. I’ll just be glad to have it settled.

     Our 2020 has been, shall we say, a year of expenditures. First the refrigerator in the basement quit working (not a big deal, it was old), but then the refrigerator upstairs quit also (the freeze side). So we were off to Best Buy (and other stores), looking for the best deal. While we were in Best Buy Cindy spotted a Kitchen Aid Mixer she’s been wanting, and it was “on sale”. But, and there is always a but, they didn’t have any (this was just before Christmas last year). Cindy just had to have it to make all the Christmas cookies. The salesman at the store told us the only one within 100 miles was at their store in Battle Creek, Michigan. (This is like 5pm) We looked at each other and said “Road Trip!” I told the salesman to call Battle Creek and put our name on it. I paid for it at the Fort Wayne store and off we went to Battle Creek. The mixer in hand, we headed for home, after a quick stop at a Pizza Hut. Once we got home, I ordered, online, a new fridge for the kitchen. The new fridge was delivered, the old one from the kitchen taken down to the basement, the old basement one hauled away. So...after cleaning the “new” basement fridge, it started working again...jeez, turns out I didn’t need a new one after all (except that the “old” basement one was toast). Oh well, Dad was right, the Geiger Zodiac Sign is the Turd. The rest of the winter went well. The holidays were pretty much the usual stuff, then the dreaded Covid 19 Apocalypse, and we all had to stay home for three weeks (didn’t think I would survive being locked in 24/7 with the wife for that long). That brings us to the next expenditure. We have a lot of gadgets around our house, including many things for the kitchen...all to make those delicious meals easier and faster, and OH so good. We have a gas stove (with a working oven), and two microwave ovens, one in the basement as a backup (a big one that will hold a 14lb turkey), and 2 NuWave air fryers (I guess it was a 2 for 1 sale, and you never know when you need a spare). What we didn’t have was an “Emeril Lagasse 360 XL Air fryer”, this gadget does it all. You can fry, deep fry, broil, bake, make toast, everything except mashed potatoes. Lord only know how we survived before without this miracle time saving, energy saving, healthy cooking, appliance in our home. But because of the dreaded Covid, we have to cook for ourselves, no more restaurants for the foreseeable future. Covid is going to get us all, but at least we won’t endure the ho-hum cooking, and so-so flavours of the past. With our new “Emeril Lagasse 360 XL” we will be in Heaven, food wise. To be fair, Cindy is a very great cook, Emril or not, and we all use this miracle machine a lot.

     Well we survived the lookdown, and then summer came, and it was a HOT one. That brings us to the next big expenditure. Our main air conditioner finally gave up the ghost. It had been making a lot of noise lately, and I often wondered just how long it would last, and off to Lowe’s we went for a new 26,000 BTU air conditioner. With help, I got it installed, turned it on, and wait for it...it didn’t work. Now I’m just a little peeved (the Turd sign again). I called my grandson Chase, the electrician. He came over, checked it out and found out I only had 110 volts at the plug (suppose to be 220V). Another trip to Lowe’s, with Chase, to get what we needed to fix the problem. Okay, all better now and the AC is on. End result...there was probably nothing wrong with the old AC, Turd Sign again. Plus a new washing machine, ugh 😒

     Time marched on, even in the heat of summer. Brian is doing well, now. He had to surgeries on his neck just before Christmas last year, spent almost a month is the hospital and rehab, practically had to learn to walk again. Still has a lot of pain, but it is in his lower back, and surgery is planned for February, if all goes well, and then back to the rehab people. Meanwhile, he’s holed up in his man cave down in the basement with his big TV, movies and video games. He pops up now and then to eat and play with the dogs. (Currently we have more dogs than children and grandchildren, and better behaved.)   Daughter Sheri is doing dog 🐶 grooming at her home as a business. That will put her beautician experience to good use. Daughter Tracy is still living with us. That girl is a cleaning and organizing whirlwind. She has tackled the basement back to where I  no longer need a map. I can see most of the floor now, and have started painting it. Now she has started on the upstairs, and the attic. In all her doings, she has found stuff I knew I had, just didn’t know where it was. (What do you do when you can’t find something? Go buy another one, once again it is a turd thing.) I took down our above ground pool a couple years ago, and finally this year we started putting all the bricks back. We don’t have a back yard, just this huge walled in brick patio. I had to re-lay about 1000 brick pavers, talk about a back breaking job. I’ll finish it next summer, but it looks nice now with it’s new water feature and fire pit, and lighted. Summer progressed. In March a cousin passed away in Michigan, but because of Covid, services were delayed till July. We had to travel to Graying, after some of the restrictions were lifted, to say our goodbyes. That is when the next 💲 lay-out happened. A New Car! You just can’t go to a funeral in last years model, everybody has seen you in that one (kinda like you ladies and your dresses, gotta have a new one for every new occasion, wouldn’t want to be seen in last year’s rag.) Truthfully it’s only new to us. I wanted a Corvette, but being practical, I settled for a shiny red Cadillac XTS. It’s sporty and goes fast.    

      For fun this year, Cindy, Brian and I made the usual trip to Manistee, and for an extra (men only) fun, Chase, Justin and I road-tripped (in the new Caddy), spelunking in southern Indiana and over to see the St. Louis Arch. Also, Grandson Chase just joined the Indiana National Guard, I couldn't be prouder.

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year,   Alan, Cindy, Tracy, Brain and the K9's

Monday, January 21, 2019

Christmas Letter 2018

HO, HO, HO, and all that,                                                                                        December 2018
    Another year has gone by, and here is your Christmas Letter.  Not much is different from last year. We had a few additions to the family…puppies. Molly had four, and Tiny had five. We found homes for all, and kept two. I guess that once you name them you have to keep them. Therefore, now we have PeeWee and Cutie in addition to Molly, Teddy, Tiny, Dixie, and Peaches, bringing our dog children to a total of seven. I do not know what the limit is, but I think you can have nine cats so we should be okay. Being little dogs, they do not eat much or take up much, room unless they all want to get in bed with you, or sit in the chair with you. They are “lap dogs”, not much doubt about that. They are fun, and have been a blessing in our house. Now I know what you are thinking, “SEVEN DOGS!” Let me explain. We started with Molly, and then some months later got Teddy as a playmate. Well as time passed, they got married and had two pups, Bruiser and Tiny (they were so cute we had to keep them). More time passed and Molly had three more pups, we found homes for all of them, and decided to let Bruiser go also (a family wanted a dog, but not a puppy), that took us down to three dogs. Then Tiny had her first pup, it was brownish\blonde, and we wanted a brownish pup so we kept her and named her Peaches (My very first dog’s name was Peaches). We warrant the pups, and if someone has a problem, or it just does not work out for them, we will take the pup back. Well, it did not work out for one family, and I got the pup back, named her Dixie, and kept her. She had suffered abuse by the four year old at the new family, and it took quite a while to get Dixie mentally healed.  Since I was the one who went to her rescue, she has stuck to me like glue ever since. Anyway, now that gets us to five dogs, and with the two new pups brings us to today’s count of seven. I would like to announce that Dixie is having her first litter of puppies around the week of Christmas-New Years. Some people have already signed to get one. These dogs are great as companions, and emotional support. I credit our dogs to pulling Brian out of the depression he was going through, and maybe saving his life. You just cannot help but love them. The two little pups we kept because the black one “Cutie” is just toooo cute, and the black & white “Pee-Wee” was sooo little (7 oz.), and the Vet said he would not make it, that he had water on the brain. Well the wife, not being one to give up easily, bottle fed and cared for him like a preemie. Now he is a robust little pup and holds his own against the bigger dogs.
               
Molly, Teddy, Tiny, Dixie, Peaches         Cutie                                 and, PeeWee

    Other news:  You know I think you can fix just about anything with the help of “YouTube.” Our icemaker was leaking. I looked it up on YouTube; the guy explained if you call a repairman it will be about $60 just for him to show up. Plus the parts, plus labor to fix it. He suggested just buy a new icemaker. Just three screws and presto change-o you are back in business. Cost of the new icemaker, $60, Labor to install it, $0.00, no more complaining from the wife, Priceless.
    The Wife is getting a new knee in March. I suppose I will be catering to her while she goes through rehab. I am pretty much doing that now. I swear when I am home most of what I hear is “Alan, will you…” This is where “selective hearing” really pays off. Did I tell you that the government awarded me disability for being hearing impaired? It is true, so I have a legit excuse for not answering her call every time. I also have “selective memory,” that comes in handy. It is kind of like having controlled Alzheimer’s, for those days when you need it most, again Priceless. “What?” The most useful word in the English language guys. After enough “what’s”, you get an “oh never mind.” Of course “huh?” works, and for the ole one-two punch; a “Huh, what?” in combination once in a while gets you to the knock out; “oh never mind.” a little quicker. Sometimes a little rope-a-dope; “Can you wait a minute?”, catches the off balance and after a few minutes, or so, come back with a “huh, what?” and chances are good they have forgotten what they wanted to start with. If they do remember just give another “in a minute.”      Hold on a second, and have a Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year
                                                                                  From:  Alan & The Crew
PS, Is there a snooze button for peeing first thing in the morning? I would like another ten minutes of sleep.

Tuesday, December 19, 2017

It’s Christmas Time Again,                                                                                       December 2017
This makes Christmas #47 for Cindy and me. I just don’t know where all the time is gone. For me today is pretty much, just like yesterday, and tomorrow isn’t looking any different. We all have varying schedules that fit the different times in our lives. When we were school kids, we lived by the bell. We graduated, and moved on to live by the time clock, and raising kids by the bus stop times. Now in retirement, time is a whole new thing. My Dad first introduced to me one retirement “time” while he was living in Florida. He said, “Time for early birds!” I’m like, “What?” I was soon to learn that seasoned citizens got a special price, discount, at the restaurant if they came in early, after 4pm but before five. Well…this was new! Living at home we NEVER ate supper before 5; Dad didn’t get off until five. Fast forward, guess who’s doing early birds now? Our usual haunt has a deal if you eat after 4 they punch your card. After 10 punches, you get a free meal. Well, that is just one way we track time around here. Another is days of the week.  Since everyday is pretty much the same around here, I lose track of which day it actually is, that is until I get out my “Pill Minder.”   Well what do you know, it is Wednesday. Next thing you know I’m out of pills, which mean another week has gone by. Seems like I just filled it up yesterday, time sure flies when you’re doing nothing. If Cindy is watching the NFL is play, it is Sunday, Monday, or Thursday. If it is on all day, it Sunday for sure. If it is NCAA football, it’s Saturday. NBA, those guys have no sense of time, I swear they play every day, can’t go by them guys. We have taco Tuesday, Whopper Wednesday, AYCE fish on Friday. You get my drift.  Of course prime time, it isn't what you think. Primetime is 8:30 am at the coffee shop. If you want the very latest news on a whole list of rumors, gossip, political views the college of knowledge is our Java Bean Café. Best 2 bucks I spend every day. No internet, just fellas talking (the occasional Smartphone may appear when specifics are in question). Details may be important, but not too often. The Java Bean is a unique blend of think tank, consultant group, focus group, opinion poll, liars club, politics usually not allowed unless we praise the Democratic Party. Trump has a ways to go before winning over some of these guys, but there is hope. To be fair, I don’t hear anybody singing how great Obama was either. Religion is not discussed unless we're talking about Notre Dame, Bishop Dwenger HS, or Bishop Luers HS. All hail Notre Dame! Everybody also puts a lot of faith in Prayer. We’re praying for it to either rain, or stop, or a Notre Dame win. All Hail Notre Dame! When Coach Kelly had two quarterbacks, prayers went to Coach Kelly…All Hail Brian Kelly! Whenever I have to travel to South Bend, I pray also, that it isn't on Saturday. What a madhouse. I almost forgot… Wednesdays. Wednesday is ladies night at the Venice, a restaurant/bar on Goshen road. Cindy, and a bunch of other older ladies, go there to hear a group of old guys playing old music, blah. Give me a young gal dancing around a pole any day and Rock-n-Roll, just kidding.
As I said, this last year has been just like the last few. I’m still working, nothing else much to do around here so might as well, beats staying home and watching TV all day. Cindy is still making towels (and doing the Wednesday night thing).  We are up to four dogs now. They’re entertaining, just like having kids around the house. When dogs do something that you don’t like, do they really know you don’t like it? They get into Cindy’s yarn and really foul it up sometimes. She scolds them, but two days later, they’re at it again. They know you’re mad at them, but they look up with their sad eyes and wag their tails and you forgive them, again. We took our annual trek up to Michigan; just have to go to the beach at least once a year. It was only three days, and a little chilly, but Brian and I got in the water anyway. I mean that’s what we went for, right?  We left the dogs at home with Tracy. When we got back, you’d swear they thought we’d been gone forever. We didn't know the hotel was pet-friendly, or we would have taken them along. They need a vacation too, running along the beach with the wind in their hair, digging holes, sniffing strange things.    In addition, I got to go on an Honor Flight to D.C. along with 87 other Vietnam Vets. We toured all the war memorials, met Vice President Mike Pence, and had a police escort everywhere. It truly was the "welcome home" we didn’t get 50 years ago. I’m not bitter though, in fact, I think I can appreciate more now than I would have then. War stories were in abundance, although I think a lot were just tall tales, it was a fun trip, and I’m glad I went. Speaking of trips, this nice lady (I think her name is Elizabeth) keeps calling from the Resort Rewards Center offering me all these free vacations. I must be one lucky guy. Add to that all the money I’ve been saving in interest from the Credit Card Services people, I can probably afford to go on some of these vacations. In addition, I’m just one pill away from curing my irritable bowel syndrome, so I don’t have to worry about “going,” if I would go, and I could enjoy the boardwalk. All those people suffering, they take a pill and voila, they instantly have so much fun. Sitting in bathtubs on the beach, not worrying about having to pause if the moment strikes. Better living through chemistry. I like the guy who dances at work, then he goes home and dances while mowing his yard (like that would ever happen here), then he goes out to drag his basset hound down the sidewalk, dancing all the way. Who said drugs were bad?  I'm about to the end of the page here.  Winners and losers in politics. The winners didn't really win, and the losers didn't lose and Mueller is going to fix all of, it. Whatever happened we can always blame the Russians (and have since 1945). Why can’t we find a pill to fix Post Election Stress Disorder?     I’ll close by saying, we love all of you, we have no enemies, and you are all, our friends. We hope you have a nice Christmas and a good new year. May your days be many and your trouble be few, your loved ones safe and your friends be true.                                   Merry Christmas,   Alan, Cindy, and Brian Geiger

Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Christmas Letter 2015

December 3, 2015
HO, Ho, ho, Merry Christmas to all my friends, real and imagined.
Yet again, another year has gone by ever so quickly. So many things were suppose to be done, but weren't. Just never quite got in the mood. Didn't fix the rock wall, the steps, and the sidewalk. Forget about painting the house. Still got those boxes of laminate flooring for the hallway sitting in the same spot for four years now. In my defense, I haven't decided whether to restore the woodwork in the hallway before putting down new flooring. Oh well, best not to worry about that now. I give some thought tomorrow, or the next day, when I have more time.


We are happy to have welcomed a new addition to the family this summer with the marriage of Alyssa to our Steven. We wish them all the happiness. Steven is currently serving in the Marine Corp. His brother John is now an Asst. Manager at Walgreens, and their sister Martha Graduated last spring from Purdue. Both Gretchen and daughter Martha have undergone surgeries at NIH in Maryland to remove some of the tumors caused by their NF2. Keep them in your thoughts as they continue their battles with this disease.


We also welcome another addition to our family with the arrival of Molly.Just when I thought, we'd never get another dog. She's now about four months old. Plays fetch, knows how to sit, and understands "get in bed." Typical female, a real pain in the butt. Wants what she wants, when she wants it. Sasses you back if you tell her no. Doesn't know how to shut up. A brat if there ever was one. Loose a sock? She probably took it. Loose a shoe? She has it. Can't find your keys? You guessed it. Have papers you want shredded? No need to buy an expensive machine. Need your mail opened? She can handle that too, might be soggy to read, but it is opened. She has a few favorite toys too. An empty Kleenex box with a string on it that she likes to race around the house with. She also has an empty Clorox bottle, with string, that she swings around in a circle and makes it roll. Plus an assortment of balls, knotted socks, and a very small teddy bear. She's also part cat, as she likes to climb up on your shoulders and lay behind your neck like a collar (warm and soothing, when your neck aches). (Dang dog wants out again) You know when the kids were two (four mos. In dog years), you could pop a video in the VCR and they would be occupied for a couple hours. I need a doggy video. I also need a doggy diaper, probably would not be any good a changing those either. (Darn it dog, I'm not gonna hold you while I type) Jeeze, give me a break.  Okay, enough about the stupid dog already.
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It has been another busy year.  Indiana Donor Network has managed to keep me out of trouble and Cindy has been busy making her crocheted kitchen towels. Sales increase every year. The weather cooperated, after a wet spring, we were able to use the pool. Last year I think I only swam once. This year not only did I get wet, but the little tykes next door came over too. Fun for all. No vacation this year, just two days at Ludington Michigan was all. I swear they have the best beach.

I guess when I was young; time didn't mean that much except, how many hours could I work to boost my paycheck. And, time could not pass quick enough until the next holiday, and a day off work. And remember how we could not wait until we turned sixteen, and got our license.  I remember the first night I got my license…put 100 miles on Dad's car, and never left Markle. Those were the days, those were the days…  (By the way, Justin and Chase, both sophomores, turned 16 and will start driving soon.) And, we just could not wait to graduate school, or turn twenty-one. Then how we put off being forty, much less fifty and ohoo the dreaded midlife crisis. (Never understood that anyway, guess I did not have time for one). Now here I am, retired (HA). Suppose to slow down, take your time, and enjoy life. Funny thing…the clock seems to move just the same. I guess my point is, I should have savored every minute more as they went by. "If I only had more time…" That is what we tell ourselves. And now, with this dog around, I'll never have enough time to do anything.

Kids all seem fine and the Grandkids are getting older. Holly is a freshman; Chloe is in middle school, and a serious minded softball player (catcher). She made the winning catch and her team won the City Championship. Cara is now 8, and quite artistic.  (What do you want now dog?) Lord, she has food, water, Kleenex box, the TV is tuned to Animal Planet (thought I'd try that)…but no, here she is, wanting picked up again?…  Nope she wanted out. I don't know why, she just sticks her nose into the wind and sits there watching cars go by. Twenty minutes wasted, well maybe not. I did have my smart phone with me and got in a couple games of solitaire, and checked Facebook. I can't leave her alone out there, the little fur ball will take off on an adventure to the neighbors to visit the kids. She followed the mailman next-door once, guess she thought it would be okay if an adult went with her. Ever try to catch a puppy? That little black devil can run fast, turn on a dime, and double back fast as a leaf in the wind. Who needs a home gym, just get a puppy.  I did figure out one way to catch her, corner her at the end of the porch. She has nowhere to run. Okay, where was I ??? Oh yeah, we've been healthy enough this year. No trips to the ER. Uncle Arthur seems to visit more often, but a couple Advil and we're good to go. Molly wants out again. If we're going to be out there a while, I have to go to the bathroom first. Older people evidently "go" as often as puppies. Seems I'm not allowed to pee on the porch, or in the grass, like you Molly does.  The neighbors complain if I do. Darn finicky neighbors.


                                                        Merry Christmas & Happy New Year,  Alan