March Madness?

Dear Blog Reader;

I hope that this latest installment finds you doing well. I am fine. I find myself stuck in the house. I am a bit bitter that during the work week last week; 55 degree sunny days simply begging to be enjoyed with a bike ride were abundant. Now, the weekend is here and the high will be 35 with snow flurries. I know that I sound like a churlish brat. Didn’t I enjoy all of the warm weather in January, or the 16 days that I road outside in February? Of course I did, but I want it all. And I want it now. Now; and I’ll take mine without 200 mph tornados. Thank you very much.

I feel like the warm weather will never come. It feels like April showers and May flowers are but classic bait and switch scams which we will grab for, ignoring the admonitions of our grand parents, and jamb our fingers against the cold, gray, ice encrusted, March doldrums. No wonder the Romans have their ides. Mrs. Caesar; “Beware, I’d rather it be any month than March.” No wonder the Irish have their green beer; anything to get some color into this gray landscape that we have endured since last November. I  . . . have . . .    had . . . enough!

Daylight savings time next Sunday night: make sure you get your receipt from Uncle Sam for that hour of sleep that will be taken away. The more sensitive of us will go around looking for it until November; always wondering why we never feel rested. I have a standing order for my family. If I die during the months of daylight savings time, my funeral is to be postponed until November. That hour of sleep is precious. Isn’t it just like the government to go around saving things for us? Then if we check out at the wrong time, they just give it to someone else (Think Social Security). Besides, I refuse to start eternity with a sleep deficit.

Indiana’s Attorney General is going to look into people’s complaints that they were not able to rent their house for $10,000 during the Super Bowl. Really People? The following are the great myths of our time; Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and $10,000 rent for your home for 5 days. They aren’t real. They are simply made up things to renew your hope that you have a chance in the next round of life’s lottery. “Step right up and get your ticket.” The following is a rule to live by; if you see a promise on a small sign in a median, it isn’t true. It could say, “work from home”, “Super Bowl House rentals $10,000”, or “Four More Years”, and it would be the same horse hooey. Get over it. Please.

I spent a wonderful day yesterday celebrating Bonnie’s 80^th birthday. Bonnie, my lovely wife Beverly’s mother, is the matriarch of a great brood of son, and daughters, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and five Purdue outlaw sons-in-law. What a great time. As you can imagine, taking time off for recovery between children, the age spread of the grand children is wide but follows you basic bell curve. In a rite of passage that is becoming more rare, Austin one of the younger cousins moved on to the “older” cousin table. Very cool.

I have had a rule of thumb regarding all of my nieces and nephews. None of them are interesting until they reach high school. Oh sure they have interesting moments but really those moments are few and far between and make it hard to gauge how interesting the person will become once they shed the gnarly chrysalis of adolescence. Then something happens as they reach high school, they suddenly are able to string more and more interesting moments together until by the time they matriculate to college they are the kind of people you want to set down and have a conversation with.

Since Austin moved to the big table, my seat was taken. So I moved down to the young cousin table. I had the privilege of sitting with Max. I like Max. Of all of the uninteresting nieces and nephews, he shows a great deal of promise. For instance last night, he played Sonic on a Touch all through supper. Isn’t that the greatest? After 21 grandkids, the hyper vigilance has gone away. If you don’t want to eat and want to play video games, fine. What do the adults care? As far as Uncle Roger is concerned, that leaves more cake for me. That alone adds a sense of interest. So, Max plays this game all through supper. He isn’t sure what is going on. This would never happen at home. Supper time is supper time. Put away the game and come to the kitchen. The game is put away and the boy trudges to the supper table.

This is different. This is special. All of the rules have been suspended. Max gets to feast on an electronic hedge hog. And the best part? After the video game playing part of his primordial brain is sated, he gets hungry. He gets a plate, fills it up, and sits down to eat.

Don’t we all need that kind of space to get through March? Interesting.

Take care,

Roger