What Would Jimmy Do?

So today’s the day — Happy 240th Birthday to the United States of America. When I last updated this blog, I noted that the annual Porta Potty had been delivered and the neighborhood was ready for the 4th. Well, the Porta Potty is still here, and will be for the better part of the coming week — but — today’s the real birthday bash….

Most every year I talk a little about the 4th of July and its meaning. As I’ve mentioned in the past and most everyone knows, July 4th isn’t the day the Continental Congress declared independence.
Lots of things happened around the time the country was preparing to start out on their own.
April, 1775 — the start of the American Revolution
June, 1776 — the first draft of the Declaration of Independence written by Thomas Jefferson
July 2, 1776 — the Continental Congress declared independence
July 4, 1776 — Continental Congress approved the final wording of the Declaration of Independence
August 2, 1776 — The date the Declaration of Independence was signed
November, 1776 — the Declaration was delivered to Great Britain
So July 4th, 1776 is the date the Continental Congress approved the final wording of the document. They’d been working on the wording for a couple of days after the draft was submitted on July 2, and on the 4th, they finally agreed on all of the edits and changes. (Imagine Congress being able to do that today??) The document was dated July 4th, after all had agreed to the changes.
Even though independence was actually declared a couple of days earlier, we celebrate on July 4th. I think that’s much better — who wants to go to a 2nd of July picnic?
— 30 —

Well, not that I’m prone to forget the fourth of July, but it’s impossible at our house. Every year, a few days before and quite a few days after the 4th, a Porta Potty arrives at our neighbors and we’re treated to that sight every time we go out, or look out, our front door.

Every year the neighbors have a big Independence Day bash and apparently the guests aren’t allowed to use the indoor facilities, so the Porta Potty is put into use in their driveway. As the “party” is held on the back lawn, the guests have to walk around the house to use the potty — only a slight inconvenience, I suppose.
Sometimes I think West Virginia gets a bad reputation because of all the “hillbillies” and strange customs, but then when things like this happen, I think maybe the reputation has been earned over the years.

The holiday that we celebrate as Independence Day was officially created in 1941, but the tradition of celebrating it goes back to the American Revolution. It all started on July 2, 1776 when the Continental Congress voted in favor of independence and the Declaration of Independence (from Great Britain) was adopted by delegates two days later. Since that time, whether it was an official government holiday or not, Americans have acknowledged the 4th of July as the birth of American Independence. There’s lots of ways to celebrate the day — often with parades, barbecues, impromptu baseball games, families, friends and fireworks.
To each their own, but here on Field Crest Court we look forward to the Porta Potty arrival. Happy Birthday, America!!
— 30 —

Once again, I seem to be running behind…
Happy Birthday, a couple of days late, to my kids — Dave and Chassie.

If you’ve been following this blog as you should, you know that they share the same birthday. They were born on the same day — one year apart. And when their birthday rolls around, it’s exactly six months until Christmas.
People that study and analyze these things can probably make something of it, but I’m pretty sure that all it means is that we are fortunate to have two such great kids (and of course one of the two best grandkids in the world — Locke.)

Because of all the activities on both sides of the state line that separates us, we haven’t gotten to celebrate the birthdays yet this year, but we will soon.
In the meantime, happy birthday Dave and Chassie — looking forward to a great year….
— 30 —

I suppose I should weigh in on the Cavs victory over the Warriors, but the truth is I really can’t add anything to what’s already been said.

Being a Washington area and a Cleveland sports fan isn’t easy. Obviously Cleveland has had the longest “bad luck” streak… but let’s see, how many championships have the Wizards won? Oh, I remember — zero.

Anyhow, the curse in Cleveland is now broken and I suspect it won’t be too long before a new statue is erected somewhere in the city.

So congratulations to the Cavs — and Cleveland — I’m sensing a 2016 World Series victory and starting off 2017 with a Super Bowl win….
The North Shore is back in God’s good graces….
— 30 —

I’ve been busy, or at least a little pre-occupied the last week or so. Anyhow, I missed it by a day — yesterday West Virginia was 153 years old.

So a little late, but Happy Birthday to Almost Heaven — West Virginia.
— 30 —

Today is my wife’s birthday. Any of you that have followed this blog over the years know that I don’t talk too much about Claire — she’s mostly just mentioned in passing when the subject is something else.

I know it isn’t proper to mention one’s age, so I won’t. But suffice it to say that this birthday falls into the ‘major milestone’ category. It’s hard to believe that Claire is as old as she is — of course, it’s hard to believe I’m as old as I am.

There’s an old saying that a man marries a woman hoping she won’t change and a woman marries a man hoping to change him. The fact is, everybody changes — in all sorts of ways. Getting older or “aging” is only one of those ways. Age is no big deal — it’s just a number if… you’re healthy, having fun, enjoying your life — age is a welcome adventure.

I’m not a Shakespeare fan but I do remember a line from one of his sonnets that reads, “Love’s not Time’s Fool.”  The subject of the sonnet is that beauty will fade, but true love never will. Well, even though Claire has reached that ’major milestone’ birthday, I don’t think her beauty has faded one bit and my love for her grows every day. I try to tell her I love her often, but I probably don’t do it enough. I doubt that anyone ever gets to the end of their life and thinks, damn, I wish I hadn’t said ‘I love you’ so many times.

We’ve been married more than 40 years, we have two children and two grandchildren and we’ve both changed a lot in that time — I guess, as they say, both inside and outside. When I look at her I see her as the only girl I ever considered marrying. The girl that I traveled a lot of the world with. The girl that I experienced earthquakes, terrorist attacks, fires, typhoons, good times and bad with. I see the girl that gave birth to our kids. I see the joy — and worry — as we brought them home and they became great people. I see years of happiness and smiles and love in her face.

Periodically, people say, “you two seem to get along really well.” I think that’s true and I think what happens over time is that I become more attracted to Claire’s whole person — I love her personality, her charm, her talent, her toughness, her wit — she’s amazing — mischievous, smart and increasingly wise. The longer I know her, the more good stuff I find to be attracted to and I find her more attractive as the days go on…. her smile never fails to brighten my day.

So here we are at that ‘major milestone’ birthday… how old do you have to be to have a ‘major milestone’ birthday? I think Satchel Paige said, “How old would you be if you didn’t know how old your were?” See, the age thing really isn’t important at all — the important thing is being loved so completely by someone that your age doesn’t matter one bit. Happy Birthday to my best friend, true love and soul mate — Claire.
— 30 —

We had our last OTBN outside for the first time this year. The weather finally cooperated so it was nice to enjoy the outdoors along with some really good wine. Both the faithful readers of this blog are familiar with OTBN, but lots of people’s reaction is, “what the heck is that?” when I mention the term.
I know I’ve discussed it here before, but maybe I’ve never explained what it really is.

OTBN means Open That Bottle Night. The idea came from the “Tastings” column of the Wall Street Journal. The article observed that whether it’s the only bottle in the house or one bottle among thousands, just about all wine lovers have that very special bottle of wine that they always mean to open, but never do. So the authors invented OTBN — something they call a world-wide celebration of friends, family and memories during which all of us finally drink that wine that is otherwise simply too special to open. The Wall Street Journal decided that OTBN should be celebrated on the last Saturday of February every year.
We did celebrate our first OTBN in February, but decided it was such a great idea that we now celebrate it the last Saturday night of every month — 12 OTBNs every year!

The Wall Street Journal journalists pointed out that along with opening that bottle and enjoying the contents, come memories of great vacations, long-lost loved ones and bittersweet moments. They point out that wine is more than the liquid in the bottle — it’s about history, geography, relationships and all of the things that are really important in life.

Our rules for OTBN are simple…. it’s just the two of us, we have a snack or maybe a full meal, that special bottle of wine, no TV or music, we light candles and we talk — and — listen. It’s our special time together and our time to really communicate with each other. We almost always observe the ritual on the last Saturday of the month, but a few times we’ve had to move it — I don’t think we’ve ever missed it. The subjects have pretty much run the gamut over the years — sometimes we talk for hours, sometimes it’s fairly short. Sometimes we don’t even talk that much at all, but it’s our time together. Just being with someone you love is special in and of itself — and if you throw in a good bottle of wine, it just doesn’t get much better than that.
— 30 —

In honor of National Donut Day, I thought I’d attempt to answer that age old question, what came first — the donut or the hole? Now that I think about it, maybe that wasn’t the question… maybe it was the chicken or the egg — but never mind. My extensive research didn’t turn up the answer anyway.
My extensive research did, however, uncover the fact that modern donut machinery dispenses just rings of dough, so the “holes” must be made separately.
Since donuts are simply fried dough, why are they called donuts — the basic donut doesn’t contain nuts. Apparently the original fried dough concoctions were about the size and shape of walnuts, so they were called dough-nuts.
Just about everybody likes donuts — there’s a place in Hagerstown called Krumpe’s. It’s located in the middle of a small alley — now named Donut Alley.

Supposedly cops love donuts. The story goes that when police cars became common in the 1940s and ‘50s, one of the few eateries open during grave yard shifts were donut shops that opened early to cater to the breakfast crowd. Policemen got into the habit of going there for a cup of coffee and a donut.

But one of the more famous writings about donuts came from the Optimist’s Creed — created and published more than 100 years ago in the New York Sun newspaper as follows:

“Twist optimist and pessimist
The difference is droll;
The optimist the doughnut sees –
The pessimist the hole.

A restaurant in Charleston, West Virginia revitalized the Optimist’s Creed’s wording and message in 1929 to what we’re familiar with today…

As you ramble through life, brother,
Whatever be your goal
Keep your eye upon the doughnut
And not upon the hole.

Good advice today — Happy Doughnut/Donut Day….
— 30 —

I kind of avoid discussions about politics because that subject, like a lot of others, is a personal choice. I’ve prided myself on having never been a Democrat or a Republican. I take the privilege of voting very seriously and have always cast my vote after gathering all the facts possible and voting the way my decision was made.
Unfortunately, for quite a few years now, I’ve voted against someone rather than for someone. But nonetheless, it was my decision to cast that vote. Actually, over the years, elections have probably been won chiefly because most people voted against someone rather than for someone.

When the current campaign for President began, what seems like years ago, I didn’t pay too much attention — like I’ve done in campaigns past, I usually don’t get serious until the field thins out and I start to pay attention to who may become a real “contender.”
I never ever expected the front runners to be Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton — so — now I’m faced with a situation that’s new to me. In all my years, until now, I’ve been able to pick one candidate over the other to vote against.

We probably all know at least some people that are ready to flee the U.S. if either candidate wins. So I don’t think I’m alone in trying to figure out what to do in November. Right now, I’m seriously considering a write-in. The problem, of course, is what do I put in that write-in slot? Some of my initial thoughts……
Ronald McDonald — I know he’s a clown, but what are those that are running? And I’m pretty sure Ronald is at least funnier
Jimmy Fallon — probably not qualified (not unlike the candidates?) and he at least seems like he’s just a genuinely nice guy
A Box of Rocks — I’ve heard it said of both the Democrat and Republican candidates that they are “dumber” than a box of rocks. I’ve never heard a box of rocks actually say anything and there’s a saying that it’s better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt. Ummm….
Riot (Kelly’s Dog) — he’s friendly to everyone, always brightens your day and only sometimes bites…
A Vacuum Cleaner — vacuums suck — that’s their purpose. The current candidates….

Well, anyhow, you get the idea. If you’re interested, check back here from time to time before November — I may update my possible write-in candidates with even more appealing choices. In the meantime, I’ll just hope something happens to alleviate my fears that the fate of the nation and yet unborn generations will be placed in the hands of either front-runner….
— 30 —

When I was thinking about Friday the 13th and superstitions a couple of days ago, it occurred to me that the number 13 crops up in at least one instance where it’s not mentioned — a Baker’s Dozen. Everyone knows a “Baker’s Dozen” is a group of 13. The origin of the term is disputed, but most agree that the practice among bakers of giving 13 items to the dozen was a safeguard against penalties for short weights and measures.

It seems that throughout history many societies have had extremely strict laws concerning bakers’s wares, due to the fact that it is fairly easy for bakers to cheat patrons and sell them less than what they think they are getting — a serious offense because bread was and is a primary food source for many people.

The Assize of Bread and Ale (1266) was the first law in British history that regulated the production and sale of food. So the thinking is that to avoid the possibility of a penalty, bakers began to include a 13th loaf of bread with every dozen sold. This extra loaf made up for any possibility that the other 12 loaves might be light. Over time, that group of 13 loaves of bread became known as a baker’s dozen.

Actually, I don’t buy that — first off, the practice of the extra loaf originated several centuries before the phrase. Another reason is that it appears that only when the bakers sold twelve loaves, they added another identical loaf to make thirteen. Were they only concerned when selling a dozen loaves? They should have had the same concern when selling 9 loaves — but there is no baker’s nine. And the Assize regulated weight — not number.

Anyhow, a couple of  lesser accepted theories are: that the baker makes 13 — 12 for the customer and one for himself. That way if the batch comes out bad, he can easily find out and pitch it before it gets to the customer. Another thought is the extra item was added by the baker so the household slave/servant would be able to consume one of whatever was being purchased, while walking home with a bag full of food for their master/employer.

What do I think? That the phrase was made up because superstition prevents the number being mentioned by name… probably the extra loaf was baked as a special bribe for the devil not to spoil the batch of loaves.
But no matter — a baker’s dozen it is — when uttering “that number” makes you uncomfortable.
— 30 —