My bedroom window gave me a nice view of the corner of 21st and Hackley Streets. The slight slope down 21st toward Hackley made for some exciting, but wasted time during snow storms as my nephew David and I would sit and watch cars slide through the stop sign into traffic. I don’t really remember seeing any real accidents, although David claims that we watched at least one rear-end crash. What I do remember is watching the snow blowing and falling…and blowing and falling…and blowing and falling for what seemed like days during the Blizzard of 1978.
People still talk about that particular snow storm. It’s no wonder. It was the biggest weather event of maybe the last fifty years, perhaps of the century. The temperatures dropped to frigid levels. The wind was blowing at 40 mph. And, it snowed, snowed, and snowed…somewhere between 15 and 20 inches, more in some areas. The drifts were crazy deep. Hackley Street had drifts that were taller than my head. The Army Corp of Engineers had to bring in special equipment to clear all the streets.
I can remember shoveling our back walk following the storm. I did it by hand with a scoop shovel. Luckily, it was drifted away from the door enough that we could actually open it, but after you got outside it was about two feet deep across the balance of the yard. I had to scoop it off in layers. I wasn’t particularly fond of that chore anyway, and to have to scoop off two feet of snow all the way to the garage was nuts. Besides that, I had to scoop off a path to my dog’s doghouse….and an area for her to “do her business.”
The most vivid memory I have of that storm revolves around my dog. The night before the storm really began to nail us, the weather guys (Stan Wood on WISH and Bob Gregory on WTHR) were warning of the intensity and danger of this particular storm. But, the problem was that weather guys were often telling us how bad things were going to be and often it turned out to be a dud. My dad wasn’t buying it.
Sugar was my old dog that lived in the backyard. We got her in probably 1963 or so, and she was getting pretty old. Rarely did my dad let her come in the house. The situation had to be extreme. When she did come in, she got to go down to the basement because she wasn’t house broken and would make messes. After listening to the weather reports and watching the news, I was convinced that this was definitely one of those extreme situations.
“Dad, it’s gonna be really nasty out tonight. We need to bring Sugar in.”
“No.”
“But, Dad…the weather is really bad. It’s supposed to get really cold and snow like crazy.”
“You’re not bringing her in. She’ll be just fine.”
“Come on, Dad. Please. Let’s bring her in.”
“No.”
I walked away quite angry, and concerned. I was worried about my canine companion, but I couldn’t bring her in without Dad giving the go ahead. There was nothing I could do, so I secluded myself in my room and watched the weather out the window until I was ready to sleep. Eventually, I went to bed and drifted off.
Fast forward to 4am. I’m sound asleep. Something is shaking me.
“Mike. Mike. Wake up.”
“Huh? What?”
“Mike, wake up,” my Dad was saying. “It’s really bad outside. You need to go out and get your dog.”
Can you say, “I told you so…”? I wanted to, but that would have made him mad, and I was more concerned about Sugar.
I jumped up, threw on some clothes, and pulled on my rubber over-boots (without zipping them up), and trudged out the back door. Wow! I had never seen so much snow. It was coming over the top of my boots! I had to lift my feet high with each step as if I were doing a high-step march. When I reached her little house, the snow had drifted in a curl around the front leaving only about a two-inch crack through which I could see the opening. That drift was as high as the roofline of the doghouse.
Brushing the snow away with my bare hands, I found my little white dog with the brown ears shivering inside. I had to dig out the opening enough to get her out, and then I carried her back to the house, trying to step into the same spots I had already trudged through before. She was cold, but she was fine.
I think she was in the basement for a couple of days until it stopped snowing and I could clear away enough of the yard for her to go back outside. I know I had several messes to clean up. That was okay though. Uncharacteristically for the Muncie Community Schools of the era, they actually closed the schools for the whole week, giving me plenty of time to scrub the basement floor and scoop the snow off the back walk.
I suppose my Dad looks like the bad guy in this story. But, before we judge him too harshly, maybe we should consider WHY he was actually up at 4am. I think he got worried about her too, and got up to check things out. When he saw how bad it was, he got me moving. I think he loved my dog as much as I did, but he came from a different era and dogs were still considered to be animals….and animals stayed outside.
I write this as the two dogs I have now are sprawled out and snoozing on my sofa in my living room. I wonder what my dad would think of that?
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Thursday, April 26, 2012
27 Years and Counting
Tomorrow, I will have been married for 27 years. That’s quite a feat in today’s society. While the years and the experience have been glorious, they have not always been a breeze. There were some hiccups…some bumps…some curves…you know…stuff that you have to work your way through. Can you relate? Anyway, I thought I would share with you 27 things I’ve learned from 27 years of marriage.
Here goes…
1. Cherry Cokes make a nasty sound when thrown across the room.
2. By comparison, potato chips make less noise when tossed, but make a bigger mess.
3. “Eat your own stinkin’ dust” sounds an awful lot like “I hate your stinkin’ guts” when shouted from down the hall.
4. Asking your wife how to operate the camera while her intestines are laying open on the operating table after a C-section is not the most thoughtful thing to do, and is a bit embarrassing after that fact is pointed out.
5. Switching which side of the bed you sleep on can be dangerous when the alarm clock goes off.
6. Telling your kids something mean, unflattering, and insulting about your wife while on a vacation at the Grand Canyon can lead to a very nasty argument at the hotel later that evening.
7. You should never make a significant financial decision before discussing it with your spouse and sleeping on it at least one night.
8. Further, couples should develop a mutual financial plan and work it together from the beginning.
9. A mutual commitment to and love for God prevents a great deal of stress and promotes trust in the relationship.
10. Proving you’re right usually means that you lose.
11. Saying “I’m sorry” is always a good idea, but is most effective when you actually mean it.
12. As counterintuitive as this may sound, doing dishes can lead to a very romantic evening.
13. The things that you will enjoy doing together after the nest is empty will be different than the things you enjoyed doing together before the nest was full.
14. Waistlines will expand and contract, but your friendship will make that immaterial.
15. Odd days and even days is a good way to decide who chooses the movie.
16. Anniversaries come around at the same time every year, so it shouldn’t be so hard for a guy to remember to plan for them.
17. Holding in all the tiny little hurts can lead to one massive emotional explosion.
18. Don’t be afraid to admit when you are wrong to your kids.
19. You can teach your kids about grace by giving them grace.
20. Sometimes, chick flicks really aren’t all that bad….but just sometimes.
21. Debt is destructive…avoid it.
22. If your wife says she wants to do something that seems out of character, don’t ASSUME she’s kidding.
23. Never get too busy to spend time together.
24. A wife will cheat in a slap-boxing contest.
25. True love really does cover a multitude of sins.
26. Humility beats pride every time.
27. Twenty-seven years are only the beginning.
If you’ve been married for a while, I’d love to hear some of the things you’ve learned.
Someone told me just before I got married that marriage is a 50-50 thing. I disagree. It is a 100-100 thing. Both of you have to GIVE 100 percent. Sometimes you’ll miss that mark, but always reset your aim to that point and you’ll be okay.
Twenty-seven years have gone by like a blink of the eye. Here’s a cyber-toast to the next twenty-seven.
Here goes…
1. Cherry Cokes make a nasty sound when thrown across the room.
2. By comparison, potato chips make less noise when tossed, but make a bigger mess.
3. “Eat your own stinkin’ dust” sounds an awful lot like “I hate your stinkin’ guts” when shouted from down the hall.
4. Asking your wife how to operate the camera while her intestines are laying open on the operating table after a C-section is not the most thoughtful thing to do, and is a bit embarrassing after that fact is pointed out.
5. Switching which side of the bed you sleep on can be dangerous when the alarm clock goes off.
6. Telling your kids something mean, unflattering, and insulting about your wife while on a vacation at the Grand Canyon can lead to a very nasty argument at the hotel later that evening.
7. You should never make a significant financial decision before discussing it with your spouse and sleeping on it at least one night.
8. Further, couples should develop a mutual financial plan and work it together from the beginning.
9. A mutual commitment to and love for God prevents a great deal of stress and promotes trust in the relationship.
10. Proving you’re right usually means that you lose.
11. Saying “I’m sorry” is always a good idea, but is most effective when you actually mean it.
12. As counterintuitive as this may sound, doing dishes can lead to a very romantic evening.
13. The things that you will enjoy doing together after the nest is empty will be different than the things you enjoyed doing together before the nest was full.
14. Waistlines will expand and contract, but your friendship will make that immaterial.
15. Odd days and even days is a good way to decide who chooses the movie.
16. Anniversaries come around at the same time every year, so it shouldn’t be so hard for a guy to remember to plan for them.
17. Holding in all the tiny little hurts can lead to one massive emotional explosion.
18. Don’t be afraid to admit when you are wrong to your kids.
19. You can teach your kids about grace by giving them grace.
20. Sometimes, chick flicks really aren’t all that bad….but just sometimes.
21. Debt is destructive…avoid it.
22. If your wife says she wants to do something that seems out of character, don’t ASSUME she’s kidding.
23. Never get too busy to spend time together.
24. A wife will cheat in a slap-boxing contest.
25. True love really does cover a multitude of sins.
26. Humility beats pride every time.
27. Twenty-seven years are only the beginning.
If you’ve been married for a while, I’d love to hear some of the things you’ve learned.
Someone told me just before I got married that marriage is a 50-50 thing. I disagree. It is a 100-100 thing. Both of you have to GIVE 100 percent. Sometimes you’ll miss that mark, but always reset your aim to that point and you’ll be okay.
Twenty-seven years have gone by like a blink of the eye. Here’s a cyber-toast to the next twenty-seven.
Friday, April 20, 2012
A Muncie Boyhood-Cost of the Summer Treat
For the sake of argument, let’s just say it’s June 1969. The sun is shining. It’s the first really warm day of the summer. I’m seven and a half years old, and I’m out in my backyard playing with my big yellow Tonka dump truck and talking to my dog Sugar.
What’s that I hear? Music in the distance. Which direction? Where? Is it close?
Back in those days in Muncie, Indiana, one of the favorite features of summer was the ice cream truck. Kids would come running from every corner of the neighborhood to get their frozen treats. Popsicles. Fudge bars. Creamsicles. Rocket popsicles. Nothing tasted better on a summer evening.
You could hear him coming long before he got there. I have no idea what the tune was, but it was distinctive. As soon as it got within earshot, you could hear the kids: “The ice cream man! The ice cream man!”
The truck was my favorite with its larger variety hidden behind those colorful side panels, but there was another option….the ice cream bike. Boys on bikes with large iceboxes on the front. They rode through Heekin Park and anyplace else where lots of people were getting hot and sweaty and in need of something cold, but they didn’t ride down 21st Street all that often. There wasn’t enough bang for the pedal stroke. It wasn’t a big loss for our gang, though. There was more to choose from in the truck.
My mom kept a little plastic cup up in the cabinet with dimes and nickels just so there was change handy for when he drove by. Isn’t that something? You could get an ice cream bar for 15 cents! Anyway, the music would start playing and I would run in the back door, run up the three steps into her tiny kitchen and yell for her to give me some money for the ice cream man.
“Ice cream man! Ice cream man! I need some money for the ice cream man!”
Our backdoor didn’t have your typical screen door, although it was probably typical when it was first installed. It was wooden. It was kept from swinging too far with a chain and a spring. It didn’t have a cool little device to make the door swing closed slowly. Instead, it just slammed back down. We latched it with a little hook and loop, but we usually didn’t. Usually, it was free to open and close. One of the funniest things was to see my dog digging at its bottom edge to get in as a thunderstorm approached. Eventually, she would pop it open enough to get her nose in, and then into the house she slipped.
One particular day…perhaps the day I described above…the ice cream man was coming down my street. Overflowing with excitement, I ran into the house screaming for some change. “Mom! It’s the ice cream man! Can I have some money?”
Way too slowly for my liking, she opened the cabinet and got me some change out of the little cup, and then I was off. Down the three steps to the landing, turn right, throw open the screen door, run out…
BAM! “Owwww!”
The screen door chain had gotten tangled in the spring. It only opened a few inches before it slammed back shut with the same force with which I had thrown it open and hit me square on the forehead!
It raised a really nice swollen lump.
But, priorities have always been important to me, so I just grabbed my head with my change-free hand and kept going. I couldn’t let the truck get away! I chased him down and got my treat.
You’ve heard of ‘shoot first and ask questions later.’ Right? Well, for me it was: ‘Ice cream first and rub your head later.’
I wasn’t sure if I should eat it or put it on my face. That’s a lie. I definitely ate it....every last sweet, cold, refreshing bite.
What’s that I hear? Music in the distance. Which direction? Where? Is it close?
Back in those days in Muncie, Indiana, one of the favorite features of summer was the ice cream truck. Kids would come running from every corner of the neighborhood to get their frozen treats. Popsicles. Fudge bars. Creamsicles. Rocket popsicles. Nothing tasted better on a summer evening.
You could hear him coming long before he got there. I have no idea what the tune was, but it was distinctive. As soon as it got within earshot, you could hear the kids: “The ice cream man! The ice cream man!”
The truck was my favorite with its larger variety hidden behind those colorful side panels, but there was another option….the ice cream bike. Boys on bikes with large iceboxes on the front. They rode through Heekin Park and anyplace else where lots of people were getting hot and sweaty and in need of something cold, but they didn’t ride down 21st Street all that often. There wasn’t enough bang for the pedal stroke. It wasn’t a big loss for our gang, though. There was more to choose from in the truck.
My mom kept a little plastic cup up in the cabinet with dimes and nickels just so there was change handy for when he drove by. Isn’t that something? You could get an ice cream bar for 15 cents! Anyway, the music would start playing and I would run in the back door, run up the three steps into her tiny kitchen and yell for her to give me some money for the ice cream man.
“Ice cream man! Ice cream man! I need some money for the ice cream man!”
Our backdoor didn’t have your typical screen door, although it was probably typical when it was first installed. It was wooden. It was kept from swinging too far with a chain and a spring. It didn’t have a cool little device to make the door swing closed slowly. Instead, it just slammed back down. We latched it with a little hook and loop, but we usually didn’t. Usually, it was free to open and close. One of the funniest things was to see my dog digging at its bottom edge to get in as a thunderstorm approached. Eventually, she would pop it open enough to get her nose in, and then into the house she slipped.
One particular day…perhaps the day I described above…the ice cream man was coming down my street. Overflowing with excitement, I ran into the house screaming for some change. “Mom! It’s the ice cream man! Can I have some money?”
Way too slowly for my liking, she opened the cabinet and got me some change out of the little cup, and then I was off. Down the three steps to the landing, turn right, throw open the screen door, run out…
BAM! “Owwww!”
The screen door chain had gotten tangled in the spring. It only opened a few inches before it slammed back shut with the same force with which I had thrown it open and hit me square on the forehead!
It raised a really nice swollen lump.
But, priorities have always been important to me, so I just grabbed my head with my change-free hand and kept going. I couldn’t let the truck get away! I chased him down and got my treat.
You’ve heard of ‘shoot first and ask questions later.’ Right? Well, for me it was: ‘Ice cream first and rub your head later.’
I wasn’t sure if I should eat it or put it on my face. That’s a lie. I definitely ate it....every last sweet, cold, refreshing bite.
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