The Higgins Family & HRC

There are history people and non-history people. The non-history people just don't get it the way we do. They might know some history, and they might acknowledge the relevance of some events and people, and maybe some are able to feel a connection between what happened then and what it means to our lives today.

But real history people feel it all. All human history is relevant and history people want to feel it and know it and witness it whenever possible.

We are those kind of people. Jennie and I are and we seem to have infected our children with the same virus. We do travel from time to time and when we do, not a day will go by without some sort of stop, some observation, or history lesson. Throw a helping of patriotism and political science in there and you can understand our attraction to things presidential.

Burial sites are a thing. Driving across Iowa, we were so excited to see that Herbert Hoover was buried along the way. In addition to Hoover, we've hit Washington, Adams (John AND John Quincy), Filmore, Lincoln, & Kennedy, not to mention two time presidential candidate Adlai Stevenson in Bloomington, Illinois. In Quincy, Mass, Jennie draped herself across First Lady Abigail Adams' burial vault just so she could be that much closer to history. We did however pass on seeing Richard Nixon lying in state after his death in 1994. It was a closed casket and unless we could see him, we couldn't do the three hours of driving. 

We saw Bill Clinton jogging on a beach in San Diego, met 1984 Democratic VP candidate Geraldine Ferraro, and volunteered to work an event so we could see 2008 Republican VP candidate, Sarah Palin. But we were most successful the day we tried to meet Hillary Clinton.

I couldn't tell you the date. It had to be summer of 2003. A senator then, we knew that Hillary would be speaking at an event at Welch-Allyn, a local company that makes medical devices. So we thought, we'd try to see her. We assumed there'd be a lot of people there to see her so we made up a sign to get noticed, packed up the kids (just Zach & Thomas. Sorry Maddie, you weren't around yet), and headed out. Of course we felt like we were running late. There'd be all these people and Secret Service so we parked at the Mottville post office and walked. Having always driven this route, we never took notice of the steepness of the hill. The hike, our fitness levels, our anxiety, and the heat made for an uncomfortable walk. Still we persevered. We crested the hill and.....there was not a single person there. 

Welch-Allyn at the time, had two plants. An older one back in a built up area, and this newer plant, like all newer plants, was built on the edge of town in a wide open area. And there we were, just us, at the end of a long driveway, with two small children, and a sign, in what felt like the middle of nowhere. At this point I was feeling very conspicuous and a little stupid. We had no idea what to expect, so as cars came by we sort of halfheartedly held up the sign wondering in what kind of vehicle Senator Clinton would arrive. She was supposed to be there at top of the hour and it was a little after. Maybe we missed her?  But when it happened, we knew. 

A team of dark SUVs approached. We perked up. Jennie held up the sign. I waved. And then.... they stopped.

It all happened so fast. Doors opened and as Jennie describes it, it was like a clown car. People kept pouring out. Security, aides, people in suits all came walking toward us. Then they seemed to part and from the middle of this mess steps out a woman who was at least a head shorter than the next shortest person in the group.

I tell my kids, when you go in to a situation, know what you're going to say. At least have an idea, because when the moment is upon you, it happens fast and if you aren't ready, you'll miss it. That is experience talking, because at that moment, I felt like Ralphie in A Christmas Story when he finally got to sit on Santa's lap. He was supposed to ask for the BB gun, but he went blank. What the hell do you say? How about a nice....football? I think Hillary pretty much led the whole session. She introduced herself and asked our names. She spoke to the boys. Where are you from? Teachers and veterans and all that. It seemed like a long visit. Who knows? Maybe it was only two minutes.

So Hillary sees me holding a camera and says, "Why don't we get a picture?" We line up and I give my camera to an aide. We're standing there and the aide, the now controversial Huma Abedin, can't figure out my camera. While I show her the button, Jennie doesn't move. She and Hillary have arms around each other, Jennie's so tight that she swears the Secret Service detail is ready to pounce. Jennie tells Hillary, "I could go and help them with the camera, but I just want to stay here and hold on to you." Hillary told her, "I'm going to hold you right back."  Huma masters the camera. We get the picture. We say good-byes and thanks. The clown car filled up and left as quickly as it came.

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” - Maya Angelou

She didn't have to stop. She wasn't campaigning and wouldn't have to for another 3 years. Hillary was already running late. There was probably a speech to give and some would say, more important people than us waiting on her. There are those who are not fans of Secretary Clinton who insist that she is some sort of conniving, narcissistic, elitist.  But that would be a pretty hard sell to Jennie and I. You either like people or you don't. I guess it is possible to fake it, but she felt like a very sincere and warm person in the very brief time we met her. I will not hesitate to vote for this woman and I will always treasure our short brush with history and hope to see a President Hillary Clinton.

Side Note: This is the days of film. Going to Wal-Mart to pick up the pictures the girl working the photo center tells the guy in front of us that the machine malfunctioned and destroyed his film and all pictures. We thought we'd never get this picture, another failure under our belts.  Through the fog of disappointment, as we stepped up to the counter, the Fates had shown sympathy and granted our film a safe travel through the developing machine. 

Little Things

I write. And write. Think and think. Then write some more. 

The writing is an urge to spew all of my thoughts out somewhere, sometimes like the baby space fetus coming out of John Hurt's chest in Alien. A fraction of those thoughts end up on Facebook or in a blog. The rest, one would find, stuffed around my house, under my bed, in boxes, and on bookshelves in the form of a series of journals and books where I record everything that comes into my mind. I wonder if after I die, someone going through my things will actually read though these journals. And if they do, I wonder what they'll think. I'm curious because what I think tends to fluctuate.

The journaling can be blessing and a curse. A wonderful outlet to be sure, but there is a tendency to be overly critical of myself, of my efforts, of my goals, of my performance, of my progress, my lack of progress, and of just about everything I do. Very critical. And this very tone,  from time to time will turn me against writing anything at all because the author tends to be such a drag. And who wants to hang around with THAT guy all the time. 

Randomly choosing from one of my randomly stuffed books this week I came across an undated entry from late 2012 or early 2013. That day, Thom seemed to have grown tired of the criticism and self flagellation. To combat Debbie Downer Syndrome he made a list of everyday things that popped into his head that made him happy. 

And believe it or not, that list made me happy, too.  So I blogged it, with some editing, to keep the list a little more handy for those days when the negatives seem to be weighing me down and I need a lift. This list is by no means all encompassing. Just pop up thoughts from an unknown date.

So what makes me happy? 

I love sitting in our living room. Jennie put it together. I love the sky blue and chocolate brown colors. The stained glass window and the view of the street. It feels like comfort, color, & family.

I like the view out my backdoor. It isn't a great looking yard. Spotty grass in desperate need of manicure by way of mower and whacker. Two old stumps, a tired old clothesline and an even older shed. But the beauty is that the back door sits higher than the yard. So approaching the door and looking out at this open green space, is like going through a stadium concourse as it opens to the green outfield of a baseball park. 

I like touching my wife's hair and I love hearing her laugh.

I like making eye contact with Madeline in the rear view mirror and seeing her smile.

I like finding 10,000 pages of whatever Thomas is compulsively drawing and leaving around the house. Currently his subject is Audrey II - the man eating plant from Little Shop of Horrors. (Four years later and he still does this. But these days he draws a character named Link from the game Zelda). 

I like being amazed that everyday Zachary is more and more like an adult. 

I like the quiet and solitude of running. 

I like the chaos of watching too many kids at once. 

I like making kids laugh.

I love seeing wild life while going about my day. Birds, deer, turtles, turkeys, heron, and an occasional pheasant. Once we saw a friggin' bear! Very cool. (And this weekend - a field full of snow geese milling around. Some taking off and other gliding in to land)

I like happy dogs of any size on my lap with their big ol' dog paws and happy panting faces.

I love driving and roads that reach to the horizon.

I like exploring and seeing someplace new. 

I love the bridge, wooded area, and cemetery on Bonta Bridge Road. Especially in autumn.

I love cemeteries in general. The older the better.

I like perfume and ponytails. On women. Neither works on me very well.

I like creating. 

I live to come up with the perfect words.

I like making myself better. Even if I am not successful or even moving forward, I like that I want to make things better. 

I like the feel of hitting a baseball and that of running down a fly ball. And if you think I've never tried to do both at the same time, you're wrong. A kid who loves baseball will be on that field whether or not he has found anyone else to play.

I love music.

I love jogging the rolling hills on Shepherd Road.

There is nothing like the sound and feel of a brick road under the tires of my car. 

I love Main Street in any 100+ year old town. 

I love brick buildings. Old ornate buildings. Sleek new buildings with symmetrical lines. City people say they get used to buildings and stop looking up. I can't comprehend that.

I love arches in architecture.

I love sitting on front porches and watching traffic and people pass by.

I spend too much time watching the sky, finding a planet, and an occasional shooting star . It is addicting. 

I love wind in my face, be it from a fan, a car window, or a summer breeze off a Great Lake. 

I like good morning or good night texts from my friends. 

I love flying dreams.

I love walking through Weedsport as much as I love walking though New York City. Two completely different places, but each with their own feel, sights, and sounds. 

And these are the pop up thoughts. Imagine how much more there can be if I really tried. 

Your world is full of things, little things that don't cost a cent, that you stumble on or look forward to, that make you happy. Don't forget to take the time to notice those moments, people, and things and enjoy them while you can. 

And if any come to mind right now, feel free to comment and share. 

Resolve to Evolve

It is New Year's Day and it feels like the morning after. The party was kid friendly, so aside from alcohol, I partook in all the trappings and traditions that the holiday has to offer. 

I stayed up way too late. I ate way too much food. I played games, watched the ball drop, and made lots of noise. And, with nary a bit of shame, I wore a funny hat. I did it all. Right down to the New Year's Resolutions.

The resolution seems to have become much maligned these days. Certainly, America has always had its share of cynics, cranks, and just plain grouchy bastards, ready to mock change in any form. They are the ones who certainly don't need to change anything about themselves. Throw social media in the mix and the doubters are allowed to broadcast their snarls like some cantankerous old man shouting at the neighborhood from his porch.   

But to me, any aversion to a New Year's Resolution seems almost unnatural. The Theory of Evolution is premised on the idea that an organism adapts to its environment. In order to survive and thrive it has to change. It has to make itself better. And in general, nothing in evolution happens quickly. It doesn't take a year. Or two. 

Well, sure, maybe if you're an adorable little bacteria, you might be able to whip off some changes fairly quickly. It is easy if you can crank out a few generations in an hour. For for some of us larger organisms, who might wish to become slightly smaller organisms, say about 30 to 50 pounds smaller, who really only have one generation to work with, it can take a little longer. And against all reason, motivation might require something more than a natural urge to survive.

So that is where hope comes in to play. We want things to be better. Most people feel hope in a thousand ways over the course of a year. They want the bad guys to get caught. They want that person to beat cancer. Some people actually think the Cubs will finally do ANYTHING in the playoffs. And others want Rick to escape the clutches of the zombie hordes. If you can feel so much hope outwardly, no matter if we admit it or not, imagine what we feel for ourselves. So no matter how cynical people can be, I just don't believe it.

I certainly can't feel that way. So, I put together my list. The exercise goals, the weight goals, the writing goals, and the lifestyle goals. The kitchen sink. Some of them have been with me for years like old friends. But I have hope. Hope that I can let them go. Hope that the resolve can stay with me all the year. Hope that I can show those cocky little bacteria a thing or two and make 2016 the year for an evolutionary breakthrough.

And then you'll hear this cantankerous old man shouting from his porch, "In your face, bacteria!"