When Its Over

One night this week, we came home to police. Not at out house. They were at a home on our block. I don't know where you live, but on our street, that is notable activity. Six in all. Some state troopers, a couple county sherrifs and a couple investigators, and a couple ambulences to boot. Asking around got us an answer. Someone had committed suicide there.

The people who live in that house haven't been around long. The house has been recently rehabbed and they were renting. I know nothing else about the woman who ended her life there. But as I am wont to do, I obsess about death, particularly unnatural death. You know, like too young, too early, or lives lost unnecessarily. Just questions.

Who was she? How old was she? What did she do all day before...?

Did she see me go by her house every morning when I went out jogging? Do I know her? Have I seen her? Did I say "hi" or "good morning" or at least smile at her?

I can only hope that even if it was just in passing that I was a positive presence, because I hate to think that someone who lived so close to me was going through that much agony, and I had no idea.

Did anybody know this was coming? Did they try to help? Was it a surprise? 


How does one just give up?  This is it? In a tiny garage, in a small town, in an obscure part of New York state? That is where it ends?  How could all hope be gone on such a beautiful, sunny autumn day? 

I don't know.

Suicide can be the end result of depression, mental illness, drug use, or just years of mental torment. But, I would think that any route to this action has to be paved with longing for opportunities missed. And lots of regret.

So, am I living the way I should? Am I happy with this life? Do I need to change anything? If so, why haven't I started?  I want to be sure that I am happy with today's choices ten years from now.

This doesn't make sense. It is a done deal and there is nothing anyone can do about it, so we might as well learn from her.

Be kind and acknowledge the people around you.

Be there for your family and friends.

Enjoy yet another beautiful day. 

Take a first step.

Do something that you've always dreamed of doing.

Lake Erie

My 14 year old son drives his mother crazy. He likes to point out the things he'd like to do someday.  What drives her crazy is not that he'd like to jump out of a perfectly good aircraft or that he wants to visit less than stable parts of the world. She hates that he refers to this collection of desires as his bucket list. "A bucket list", she says, "is for old people and I'd rather that the child that I worked so hard for, not plan for his death." Fair enough.

Ohio to the south. Ontario, Canada to the north.

I'm 45. Is that too old for a bucket list? Probably. I have too many things that I still need to start or even to add to that list to even think about the finality of my visit to this realm. Still, I think this Great Lakes trip is a good "goals list" item to check off. Visiting all the Great Lakes was never an actual stated goal, but it is one of those things that has a quirky uniqueness to it that makes the whole trip noteworthy. Even if it wasn't perfect.

I've heard that makers of oriental rugs intentionally stitch an imperfection into their work. Only God is perfect, so who is some rug maker to show up the Creator?  Lake Erie was our imperfection. At each of our stops, we found a beach, kicked off our sandals, and made our way to the water, letting the chilly northern water of the lake wrap itself around our feet & calves, or more sensitive areas further up. The kids would run on the sand while Jen and I had to pick out a few good rocks from beneath the water's surface for my little collection. We found the lake, but the water was out of reach.

It was the last day of our trip. We were going from Streator, Illinois all the way home to New York, by way of Canada. That is one long day, I'll tell you what. A long day after a long trip. After clearing the border at Detroit/Winsor we cruised up Highway 401. Our plan was the same as it was for Lakes Huron and Superior. Get close, find a road that ended at the lake, and look for a beach. Our closest opportunity was about 3/4 of the way across. Passing through West Lorne, Ontario we saw Lake Erie on the horizon.

I've seen this lake dozens of times. All our trips to Illinois and points west have taken us past Erie, time & time again. But I've never been in it. We drove through the town, out of the town, the past a patch of homes situated to take advantage of the beautiful view. Beautiful, indeed, but sitting up as high as we were, I was betting that the winter wind was killer. We were up high.

This is when I realized that I was staring down a Canadian dead end sign. A yellow diamond with a black checkerboard design. The end of the road. The minivan stopped at the guard rail. We weren't going any further. Stepping out of the van, I was greeted by a fence and a drop off. There was a path, on a steep grade going down fifty feet or so to the lakeside, that looked like it was more suited for a group of adventurous middle schoolers or some festive and/or amorous youth, than for two middle aged parents and three kids. Down wouldn't be an issue. Up on the other hand...



Dead end, kids. No soup for you!

The view up the coasts wasn't very promising either. High wooded cliffs up and down the coastline made beach prospects in the vicinity very unlikely. So, that was it. That would be our Lake Erie visit. We could have searched for another spot, but one was unknown. We had an hour or two of Canada left. We had another border crossing to go AND two more hours from Buffalo to home. This would be it.

So, we wouldn't get into the water. The same water that touches exotic locales like Buffalo, Cleveland, and Toledo, would not caress our feet. C'est la vie. Nothing is perfect.

Cliffs and barbed wire fences. It ain't happening.

Forget the makers of oriental rugs. I prefer the attitude of the Navajo. They leave a line of imperfection in their rugs that they call the spirit path, so that when they die, their spirit can escape through that line. With their spirit free, they can continue weaving. So, this imperfection will allow us to contiue our journeys & keep wandering. Perhaps one day we will wander back and finally set foot in Lake Erie.  With any luck, it'll be before I'm old enough to call it a bucket list.

Princess Smack Down

I can empathize with my daughter. I was part of a household where the gender ratio was tilted heavily toward the female side. But, if it bothered me at the time, I can't say. It probably did. There is only so much of Barbies, clothes, make-up, shoes, & periods that a young man can take. Baseball and seclusion in my room must have been my coping behavior. My daughter is much less ambivalent. She does tire of superhero  and video game talk and she isn't afraid to let the boys know that.

The train ride from Florida to Virginia is a long one. That evening as we sat in the lounge car, she put her foot down, and said, enough of the Avengers talk. With that, my job was to find a topic that all the kids could enjoy. The answer, naturally, was ass kicking princesses.


The basic question was: Who is the toughest Disney princess?  We were in the Disney zone. A flurry of Disney movies prior to our trip, a week at the Disney parks, and ALL that talk of ALL things Disney had us primed. Everyone had an opinion. All yelling at once. I had to go all Voltaire on them. If you're going to discuss this, you have to define your terms!

First, who qualifies as a princess? Belle, Snow White, Ariel..they are obvious. Mulan? Pocohontas? Not exactly royalty and their status doesn't seem so clear. The official Disney Princess Website said they were. That is an official source, so with that, those being considered were Snow White, Cinderella, Aurora (Sleeping Beauty), Ariel, Belle, Jasmine, Pocahontas, Mulan, Tiana, Rapunzel, & Merida. That part was easy.

Then, we had to decide, what is tough? There was much arguing, yelling, and movie quotes were flyin'. Taking various examples, we narrowed it down to four categories. Physical toughness, mental toughness, intelligence, & bravery. Most of these seem self-explanatory. Although, just to be clear, by mental toughness, we decided, would include traits like determination, confidence, and defiance.

The bottom of the list was pretty easy for everyone. Sorry, early princesses, it's not that you're weak. You were just drawn that way. 

11. Aurora

10. Snow White

9. Cinderella

8. Ariel

These princesses had great stories. Challenging stories. And those bottom three were workers, boy. They weren't afraid to get in there and get their hands dirty. Literally. Aurora lived in a cabin in the woods with three old ladies. That is a lot of wood chopping, cleaning, and beating your clothes clean with a rock down in the icy water in the creek. And don't tell me she wasn't angry when she realized she'd been wiping with leaves all those years while her three old room mates had magic wands packed away.

Snow White was raised as a princess, but knew how to shape up the dwarf's cabin. Woodland creatures didn't do ALL the work.

Cinderella, too had to work her way through life, until the big day. But when it came to the turmoil of these princesses lives, stuff happened TO them. They were batted around by fate and were subject to the actions of hunters, maniacal dragons, and prince charmings.

 Ariel got a little bump by signing on with the Sea Witch. Gutsy, but even that, though, was throwing herself to the whims of fate. All she did was sign her name. But Ariel got some props for maneuvering the human world, moving her up to #8.

 

 The next two...

7. Pocohontas
6. Jasmine

...are tough because there isn't much to go on.  Both were raised as princesses. Not exactly hard lives. Pocohontas had to be outdoorsy, and fearlessly jumped over a waterfall, so that moved her ahead of some.

And with Jasmine, it is hard to look tough when your outfit is a tube top and parachute pants. But there are bad ass points to be gained when your best friend is a tiger. And pole vaulting between buildings is a hint that she has some athletic skills.

 

 

 5. Rapunzel
 4. Tiana

This is the point where there were differences of opinion, but in reality, is probably a toss up. Rapunzel had been locked in a tower, yes. But still, she didn't have hard times. Athletically, Rapunzel has skills. Using her hair to pull her evil "mother" up the tower had to be build up her core, big time. Hooking up with a wanted criminal, then crashing a bar full of thugs & ruffians with a frying pan as her only weapon, Rapunzel did pretty good.

Tiana had a harder life. She knew the cards were stacked against her and she fought it out anyway. Like Rapunzel, Tiana had a dream and she worked long, long hours to make it happen.  Ignoring peer pressure, defying racial bias, and using her street smarts put Tiana toward the top. And besides that, she kissed a damn frog! That nasty! But it helped ger her to #4.

3. Belle

Sure, Belle looks all girly, but there is plenty of evidence to the contrary. Hanging outside the social norms of her town, willingly taking the place of her father in a prison guarded by a huge scary beast, and fighting off a pack of wolves shows her moxie. Belle even took on an angry mob with her aging father and a chipped, talking tea cup for back-up. She's got guts. And she's my favorite. I can't believe I left her as low as #3.

The top two were the easiest. You can't really fight these two. Literally and figuratively.

2. Merida

Merida is a princess. Her mother would really like her to act like one. But she doesn't want to. It just isn't her. Merida isn't just a tomboy. She beat the best soldiers in the kingdom in the bow & arrow competition. And can hit just about anything with an arrow riding a horse full speed.  She is a skilled horseman and a cracker jack archer. When she was pissed at her mother she got a spell to turn her into a bear, then was devastated that she'd done such a thing. So, Merida had that touch of mental imbalance that makes her someone you don't want to mess with. That girl is craaaaaazy! But she comes in at #2.

 

Finally, #1 is Mulan.

 

This Chinese firecracker has a history that is similar to Merida. From a well off family, Mulan's mother tries to make this girl into the ideal Chinese young lady, but fails miserably. Then despite China's rigid gender roles, when the time comes to step up and stand in for her ailing father, Mulan defies her family, culture, & her place by going to battle for him.

 

 

Technically, Ariel did the same, but Mulan endured, and succeeded, in a medieval Chinese boot camp, went off to war, and could have gotten the ancient Chinese equivalent of a purple heart for her wounds in battle. Once you kick the Hun's buns, you're king of the mountain.

 

 

This list was in no way meant to disparage any princesses. I'm a believer in multiple intelligences. Everybody is good at something.  Snow White is in tune with nature. Pocohontas has got some existential groove going on. And Cinderella can really work a crowd. But if there is going to be a rumble, some little neighborhood smack down, then Mulan is your gal.

 

Please leave a comment. Tell me, who is your choice for toughest princess?

Lake Superior


Finally, here. Lake Superior is the one I had been waiting for. Being the northern most of the Great Lakes, Superior is the end. It is the edge. Standing on its shore one looks north and out there is something else. Literally, of course, that something else is Canada. But I prefer the figurative or emotional sense of something else as, another world. Adventure.

The coastline of this lake always looked to me like someone’s hand posed to make a shadow puppet.

Yes, there are borders that reach further north. Those M states, Maine, Minnesota, & Montana are among those who got that covered.  And, one could make the argument that standing on some spot betwixt North Dakota and Manitoba is about as remote as you can get. Is there a more lost feeling than standing in the outlands of America, staring an imaginary line or fence posts lined up to the horizon, all the way east and all the way west?  Oh, to step across that line, with not another person in sight. Just some moose or wolf and the CIA looking down from a satellite to watch your every move.

I don’t want to be lost. I want adventure. Land has roads. Roads take you somewhere in particular. In a sea, there are no roads. You board a ship on your way through no man’s land, risking the elements, the waves & water. That is adventure. Standing on that beach, I’m thinking I need to crawl into a boat and sail of on some Lord of the Rings kind of quest. That is the mystery and danger of the lake that the Chippewa called Gitchigumi and the one whose most famous victim, the Edmund Fitzgerald was taken down in 100 mile an hour winds.

But our day would not be so risky. Heading out across Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, we were off to Green Bay, Wisconsin. In our Ford Freestar, we had to drive north, the opposite direction of our final destination, to get to the lake. It would be a whole day, interstate free. Nothing but Michigan state highways, passing through the Weedsports and Streators of the Wolverine State.

Our plan was the same as it was for Lake Huron. Drive to the coast and find a beach. Simple enough. Eventually, we came across the appropriately named, Sand Pointe Beach. At Huron and Michigan we took rocks from the water as souvenirs. But I combed that beach. I dug. There wasn’t a rock to be found. Nothing but beautiful soft sand from the parking lot, well out into the water. It was luxurious enough to make any Florida beach green with envy.

Not a rock to be found. My wife scooped up a cupful of sand, which has become my favorite souvenir.

But this sure wasn’t Florida and I don’t say that just because the mid-July ice water around my feet. Each of the lakes that we had visited had such beautiful views and vistas along with those visitor friendly beaches. What the Great Lakes have that Florida doesn’t, is a lack of development. Looking out to sea, there were long forested patches of the coast and a watery horizon that seemed as if they would have looked no different to a traveler in 1950, a sailor in 1850, a prospector in 1750, an explorer in 1650, or an American Indian in 1550.  

 

And that water was cold. Ninety degrees outside but the kids were quite tentative, taking baby steps into the frigidness. That is until mom came screaming by, kicking water and splashing. Ice water on their heretofore unexposed skin made them jump like they were jolted with a defibrillator. AWAKE they were, suddenly, stomping and splashing about themselves.  With a few hours of driving ahead of us, our Superior trip was short, but did not disappoint.

 

When I look at a map of the United States, my eyes are drawn to my place. I grew up in Illinois and when I looked at a map, Lake Superior was always at the top.  The North Coast. Setting foot in this lake was one thing that I have always wanted to do. But there has to be more. I need to take my Lake Superior dream up a notch. But how? Can you make the realization of a life long dream even better? I could go to Duluth. 

Weekend Observations

Not a regular blog, but this was too long for Facebook.

What ever happened to pride in your product? Don't companies even try anymore?

We bought these peanut butter cups at BJ's. All festive and ready for the opening of football season, I rip one open, and what the...?

It doesn't even look like a football! They didn't even try. This is just an egg! The Hershey's people just said, "Take egg off the label, put on football. No one will know the difference."

Well, Mr. Hershey! I know the difference. And after I post this, so will the whole internet.

Check and mate!

When we stopped in Illinois this summer, my Aunt Kathy gave me an old Chicago Tribune section on the 1975 baseball season. The best part of magazines like this are, of course, the ads.

My friend Dan has claimed that kids sometimes are the way they are, probably because they spend most of their time at butt level with the adults of the world. So, naturally, that smell has to get to their brains.

I'll take that one step further. What did it do to the brains of my generation, to spend our time looking at pants like these? They should have come with a seizure warning, like that crazy ass Sonic the Hedgehog game that my kids play. Colors and chaos everywhere.



A wardrobe winner, indeed.





 

Fantasyland, Adventureland, & the Land of the Lotus Eaters

I write quite a bit on Facebook and I do this blog. I can write about anything that happens to me in a somewhat amusing way. That is what I like to do. If something happens, I like to find the words that make that event or moment sharable so someone else can enjoy it as I did.

Now, I just spent 6 days at Disneyworld, the Happiest Place on Earth, with my wife, three kids, and a sister and mother in law. If that set-up ain't a Seven Dwarves mine bursting with jewels of material, then I don't know what is. But I have nothing. Nada. I can recall dozens, maybe even hundreds of moments. I loved every single minute of our time there. But I don't really have anything to write about. The whole experience was too busy, too fun, and too....nice? I think it was something I ate.

Have you ever read The Odyssey? It is about Odysseus, trying to get back home to Ithaca.  But he's having trouble getting there. The gods are against him and keep throwing challenges in his way. One of those was a stop at the island of the Lotus Eaters.

When he and his men got to the Island of the Lotus Eaters, they didn't want to leave. The natives gave them the fruit of the lotus and it was so intoxicating that all they wanted to do was stay there and keep eating the fruit. Didn't want to go home. Didn't want to do nothing but enjoy that fruit. Mmmmmmm......louts. The original self medicators. Odysseus had to intervene, tell them that food is not love, and force them on their way. Odysseus had to drag them back to the ship to make them leave. Fruit always got those ancients in trouble.

The difference between us and those Greek travelers is that the Lotus Café was our destination rather than our downfall. That's Disney. I was a Louts Eater and loved it. Sure, people like to gripe about the heat, the crowds, the lines, and the mouse ears epidemic. Disney drugs you with nice-ness. Anything you need, happens. And there isn't always a price. They don't know if you're there for one day or if you spent $10,000 at one of their resorts. You need something, have a question, have a problem, I'll help you. If that person wasn't a help, just tell the next person you deal with and that one will stay with you until the problem is solved. They make you happy like they're rubbing the belly of a crocodile. And I just lay back, relax my legs and tail, and go with it. Rub away.

Of course, money runs out and I have to return to real life. It is 10 o'clock on Monday night in Central New York and I just want to be back there. All I can think is that someone else is in room 3069 enjoying my bed, admiring the hand towel folded like the animal de'jour. That some B' is in my pool. The sand bottomed pool. Oh, he's flying down the 50 foot waterslide, smacking the water and as he stands up,  that thick sand is massaging his feet as he walks to the stairs for another go around. He's eating that sandwich I love at Epcot's Morroco pavillion and gazing at the Koutoubia Mosque. That guy is on Splash Mountain, in his log, clicking up the last hill watching Br'er Rabbit squirm in Br'er Fox's clutches. As his log crests the top he gets that view of the Magic Kingdom with the Electric Light Parade moving through Adventureland and straight ahead in the distance is a glimpse of the illuminated Sleeping Beauty's castle. Then the plunge into splashy darkness. I should be there. But, no. He's closing the park. I'm supposed to be that guy.

They don't kick you out of the Magic Kingdom, but if you hang out long enough after closing time, a group of employees will line up in a sort of Red Rover line. In a very friendly, matter of fact way they'll be there, pretending like they don't see you. But they are moving forward as you move forward. There's no going back. I swear, they're working for Odysseus.