Memorial Day to Me

Today is the traditional Memorial Day, the one that started on May 30 sometime in the late 1860s.  It was also called Decoration Day because the graves of those who gave their lives in war were decorated with flowers and flags. It stayed that way until Congress made Memorial Day a federal holiday and designated that it be celebrated on the last Monday in May. The next time it falls on the traditional date is 2022.

 Today is a different Memorial Day for me. On this day in 1940, Edmund Mocarski and Pearl Gasiorowski walked into St. Stanislaus Koskta church on Noble Avenue in Chicago, IL, for their wedding ceremony that led to 55 years of marriage, four children, 11 grandchildren, and 14 grandchildren.

Today would have been their 80th anniversary.

I honestly don't know what my Dad thought about the feds changing the date of Memorial Day. I sometimes think he liked the fact that whenever May 30 came around, he had a paid holiday to spend time with the woman he loved.

Their marriage was my example, one that I tried to follow in my life.  You know that whole, for better for worse, rich or poor, sickness and health stuff. That whole until death thing. I know they both believed that.

On May 30, 1990, Mom and Dad renewed their wedding vows. My father choked up getting the words out. It was, I think, the only time I ever saw him cry.

He was standing next to the only woman he ever loved, the love from the day they married that he still had in his mind.  The woman he was looking at in the picture below.

Usually Dad didn't sign the cards that came our way. He left that chore to Mom. But, a few months before their 50th, I know he was thinking of her when he wrote something in the birthday card they sent me. I know she loved him, too. She kept the words framed for the rest of her life.

Forever

My father wrote: "make a poem
for fifty years of wedded bliss."

That which started with a simple
look, perhaps a kiss, 
but not too soon,
blossomed as it should.

It grew ...
a strong brick bungalow,
an old neighborhood of values.
It sticks with me, here
inside, the way you taught.

She hums in her kitchen.
He watches tv.
They are as content
as on that day when vows
were serious things.

The years ...
of graduations and marriages,
of mending clothes and bruises.

... "Make a poem."
How can I?
You already have

Maybe I Should Buy a Bike

Illinois is heading into Phase 3 of their reopening efforts.

The Metra station here has 681 parking spots. The guy in the ticket booth says he thinks it won't be until next year before it's filled like a normal weekday, if then. Today eleven cars were parked there.

On Monday I saw a lone passenger waiting for the 9:00 a.m. inbound train. He was taking his bike downtown. I envied him.

For much of my youth, before learning to drive I traversed Chicago by bicycle or by public transportation. I was the last of my group to get my license, mainly because I saw no need to do so. Anywhere I needed to get to was accessible by foot, two wheels, or mass transit.

Sidewalks and busses were safe for the most part. Riding a bike was a bit more hazardous because most often in a confrontation between a bike and an auto, the auto has the advantage, particularly in the days before the helmets and pads that are the usual accoutrements of bicyclists in the 21st century.  With all the stuff kids wear today, the car might lose.

Having relatively little protection on a bike made me develop a cautious fearlessness when I took to the streets of my home city. I certainly wouldn’t ride downtown at night.

Day time wasn’t any safer.

It was like that almost every day, almost anywhere in the city. I am somewhat amazed that I made it out of the city alive.

I would ride along train tracks, through factory parking lots.
I would ride down hills at Riis Park, where I really did break the fork on the Schwinn I was riding.
I rode down the middle of the four lanes on the west end of Fullerton Avenue, traffic in both directions.

I must have been lucky, because now I realize how stupid that really was.



Still I was envious of that guy with his bike, heading downtown to ride with reckless abandon.



I could ride there all day long. Probably without a helmet.

It's Not Just Being Selfish

This from Janis Ian's Facebook page

"THIS PHOTO IS SARCASM. THERE. NOW YOU KNOW.

After all, the government "makes" us wear seat belts, right? The government "makes" us pay taxes. The government "makes" us wear clothes in public. It's not about your misinterpretation of "Constitutional rights. It's about responsibility to the community. A bad car accident doesn't only involve the driver; it involves dozens of other people, from hospital workers to physical therapists to families and on down the line. So does Covid-19. Wear the mask and stop wasting everyone's time."

In the 1950s, people boiled their sheets because it was the right thing to do to help stem the spread of polio. Then when a vaccine was developed, children lined up in the hall to receive a shot. Three years later, when an oral vaccine was developed, those same children lined up again to get that.

After a fire at the Lady of Angels School which killed 92 children and three nuns, federal regulations were enacted that govern escapes procedures and school construction. Nobody complained then or now about the need for safety.

We stop at red lights. We try not to drink and drive. We don't smoke in bars and restaurants. We go through all the malarkey at airports, including taking our shoes and belts off, walking through metal detectors. We do the same malarkey when we go to concerts and sporting events. We do that for the safety of ourselves, and others. We do it for community. 

So, I cannot refute Ms. Ian's logic. It is indeed about being part of a community. I don't, however, see any protesters taking to the streets about any of the other things we are required and expected to do in our lives. It's not about perceived rights.  It's more than being selfish or self-centered. It's deeper than opening up everything. It's deeper than "freedom."

93,451 Americans have died because of the coronvirus.

The largest portions of victims are the elderly, minorities, and the poor. Many of those also had comorbidities.

Sad to say, but that is probably why the vast majority of the protesters demanding places to open are white.  They don’t give a rat’s ass about the aged, blacks, hispanics, the poor, or the sick.

Never mind that it is those same minorities and low wage workers who prepare the food they eat in the fields and meat packing plants of the country. Never mind that they make the beds in hotels, clean the dishes and cook the meals in restaurants, and all the other menial labor in the country.

Never mind that the elderly are still vital parts of all our lives despite not being in the workforce. Never mind that the poor don't have good health care or insurance. Never mind that many of the largest portions of victims live in food deserts and don't have easy access to healthier foods or a healthier life style.

In essence, those people protesting against stay at home orders are saying the elderly are all used up. They are saying that the people doing menial labor and the poor are dispensable. They are saying that "those people" should take better care of their health.

Utah Phillips wrote a song about it.

We cannot prevent every single death for COVID or anything else. And, yes, people die from the flu, cancer, smoking, car accidents and gun shots.

They shouldn't, however, die from being forgotten, ignored, or used up.

Wear a damn mask and stay the hell away from each other.

86676 and counting

Many states are seeing their COVID related numbers decline. The number of new cases down, number of hospitalizations down, the number of deaths down. All that is good and leads to rescinding the lockdown, stay at home orders. Baby steps are good thing to see,

But I keep coming back to a line in Bob Dylan’s famous song. “How many deaths will it take till he knows that too many people have died?”

Last night before I went to bed, 86,676 people had died because of this virus.

Some, like the President, are starting to claim that the number of recorded deaths is overstated. Some, like, you know, scientists, point out that the number is probably undercounted.

I personally know several people who have had symptoms of the coronavirus, but were sent home without having been tested. Abbot Labs has a rapid test that gives results in about 15 minutes. It’s the one the White House uses. It’s one that has a 15-20 percent false negative result.

In fact, Abbot is now telling people that if they get a negative result, they should get rechecked with a more reliable test.

So the President is saying that count of 86,676 is too high. Other, real, experts are saying the number is too low. The President doesn’t want more tests because that will show the number to be more. The experts, that is, the people who tend to know what they’re talking about, want more testing so that we get a more accurate picture of the virus’s spread.

I’ll say it again.

Last night before I went to bed, 86,676 people had died because of this virus.

I get the desire to open up, to get back to work, to go out and have drinks with friends, to visit the beaches and parks, to go see a movie, and damn it, I miss baseball.

But, forgotten and never mentioned by the President, the GOP, or the protesters he and they have encouraged to get things to open up, are the 86,676 people. That number is definitely higher by the time you read this.

It’s not just the elderly dying although they are among the highest totals. 86,676. It’s already higher than that. Whites and minorities. Old and young. Poor and rich. The famous and the unknown.

86,676

And counting.

It's already more.

Maybe some day Dylan's question will get an answer.

Random stuff

April 25

Saturday. Grey day, a bit rainy, wind picking up. End of another week of the shutdown for the virus thing killing people in America and indeed around the world.

I walk about two miles every day. Today was less than yesterday. Just wasn’t feeling like going longer or farther, so I didn’t.

I’m having trouble clearing my throat today. Not sure why. Like a cough that wants to have muscous and moisture in it. It does have the mucous and moisture in it, but doesn’t want to let it out. Hard to decsribe really. Time for some nose spray, I guess.

April 26

Nada

April 27

Train behind leaving the station late
Cant make downtown to be with my date
But that’s just fine
I don’t mind
Such is my life such is my fate.

The post office is great
Carrying the freight
In the air and on the interstate

I’d go fishing but I have no bait
Don’t remember the last time I ate
But when it’s time to get to the heavenly gate
Stuff my body in a big of crate
I don’t want to have to wait
For god to try and guess my weight
And now I’ve rhymed so much I feel great

Mr. Death I hear you knocking on my door
But there is still so much more
I have to do today and tomorrow too
So listen Mr. Death I ain’t going with you.

So babe I ain’t going nowhere
I will stay here for a while
Cuz Mr. Death coming now wouldn’t be fair
To stop me from seeing you smile.

Susan and I went to pick up an order at Home Depot. While we waited in the car, I saw couple of ladies outside, smoking. They then went into the store. One man walked out, lowered his mask, and took a puff on his e cigarette. Almost everybody I saw masks on. As Vonnegut used to say, so it goes.

Be kind, You might find it’s better that way.

April 28

The President today mandated that meat packing plants to open and stay open but doesn’t mandate that the plants do what is necessary to maintain the safety and lives of the workers in those plants.

The President tonight issued an order that meat processing plants have to open and stay open. I'm not a vegan, but it seems to me that for those plants to open and remain open to meet the meat eating needs of the nation, they need healthy workers to process the chickens, pigs, and cows into the pieces we cook up and stuff our bellies.

No where in the order is any mandate that these plants test workers.

April 29

Rain today. No walk I guess. I’ll miss saying hello to John at the train station.

The government in Florida today is telling coroners to stop reporting covid deaths supposedly.

April 30

Nothing

May 1

International Workers Day. UNions make us strong

https://www.usatoday.com/story/opinion/2020/04/29/joe-biden-sexual-assault-allegation-tara-reade-column/3046962001/

May 2

Nothing

May 3

Today Pete Seeger would have been 101 years old. Pete taught us to sing together. It didn’t matter if we sang bad. We were participating in the grand experiment known as humanity. That’s the way it should be.

May 4

I had some words for a song during my walk today, but they are gone by now. Vodka and gingerale cocktails will do that to me.

May 5

Come and ride the train today
This empty train that carries only the conductor and the engineer
And now you and I as we hop on board
And sit where we please
Stretch out and look out the window
As the country fades back recedes
As the city looms nearer buildings growing bigger
Where there are still emptying streets
While workers stay home
Not in a vast labor dispute they cannot win
But in the fear and orders of the day.

I want to walk again outside
In the air to breathe again
Tell my story sing my song
Hope it won’t be long

Today is Cinco de Mayo day. It’s the celebration of one victory in Mexico. It’s not a national holiday in Mexico, just like St. Patrick’s Day is not really celebrated in Ireland.

May 6

I miss making music in front of people, having them stare at me, or join in song to drown out my terrible voice. I remember the first nights of doing open mic, feeling nervous, legs shaking, know the audience was not picking up what I was laying down. My leg was shaking so badly, I must have looked like Elvis on steroids.

I am better now, but then...whoa what the hell was I thinking?

May 7

Haven’t received federal refund or the supposed stimulus check we’re supposed to get from the feds to deal with the covid crap.



A favorite musician from the Newport Folk Festival is Christopher Paul Stelling. He had a tweet yesterday about depression. I hope he’s okay.

May 8

Tomorrow will be Jessica’s 40th birthday. Four decades is how long her mother and I were married. She would have been as proud as I am of all that Jess has done in her life. 

May 9

My daughter, my first born is 40 today. Four decades. Sheesh! That makes me feel fucking old now.

I walk through my local park every morning. I usually walk to the train station. John the ticket master sits behind his window. We exchange greetings m-f. The lot is barely filled, usually less than ten cars. I think I am John’s only human interaction these days.
Some days I’ll see the same people walking their dogs. We say hello from a distance. Although I see this guy every so often, this was taken before mask wearing. He still has his friend with him.


May 10

Mothers Day. I seem to remember a lot of pressure to make sure the kids did something for their mother.

Mother's Day and No Baseball.

Today is Mother's Day. 

If you look at cards, advertisements for sales, store signs, etc., you may notice a variation of how this day is depicted. To wit:

Mother's Day
Mothers' Day
Mothers Day

The first two use the apostrophe to show the singular and plural possessive. The second merely refers to the plural nature of today being reserved for all mothers.

Today's lesson in grammar is that none of those uses matters. The lesson is that if you have a mother you damn well better wish her a happy one and probably buy her something nice.

Today is Mother's Day

We should be well into the second month of the MLB season, but this damn COVID-19 still has things shut down. There's baseball in South Korea, but no fans in the stands yet. There are people sparingly on golf courses, but no foursomes, and no PGA tournaments. The NBA and NHL should be in their end of season playoffs, but they're just now getting to allow players to practice and barely at that. And allow me to repeat NO BASEBALL!

There should be baseball if only to provide us with people of character like Lou Gehrig. You know that guy who gave us this speech:


The Gary Cooper film version touches all the high points of the original ends with those famous words, "today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth." That line actually appears in the beginning of the speech. You can read the full text here.

As far as I know no films exist of the full speech, but some capture portions. This one talks a little about the difficulty of the day for Gehrig and captures a little of why the guy was important.





Suffice to say that Gehrig and the Cooper film, Pride of the Yankees, is one of the reasons I love baseball.

Today is Mother's Day

My first wife, Cathie, raised Jessica and and Josh. I had little to do with how they turned out other than their love of baseball. She was a good mom and I was just a lucky guy. I think she is somewhere smiling and proud of her work. She should be. 

My second wife, Susan, raised three daughters and a son. I had absolutely nothing to do with how they turned out, but I can see her handiwork in the adults they have become. She should be smiling and proud, too. She is a good mom, and I am still just a lucky guy.

How many guys can say they got to marry the woman of their dreams two times?  I can.

Lou Gehrig's got nothing on me.