family

adventures / family / Monday / photo — Comments Off
29
Dec 25

One last Christmas party

All told, we had three family Christmases this year. One with my family, last week, and then with the in-laws on Thursday. Today, with the god-in-laws. (Just go with it.)

So there we all were, 15 of us in one lovely little three-bedroom split-level home. This was where my god-sisters-in-law grew up. Their parents are my lovely bride’s godparents. And my in-laws are their godparents. And, of course, there’s the next generation, five between the ages of 5 and 17. We visit, listen to the standards, Sinatra, Martin, a lot of Nat King Cole this year, which was lovely. We have appetizers while the kids run around. We open presents, by order of age.

In that room I’m the sixth oldest. That’s on the wrong side of the median, but I try not to think about it. It’s fun watching them all pair off. My father-in-law and my godfather-in-law have known each other since elementary school. My mother-in-law and my godmather-in-law went to nursing school together. My godparents-in-law met at my in-law’s wedding. And this family has grown up together, three generations worth.

Nine of us gather for dinner around a table built for six. There are place cards. I am usually sat at the right hand of the other end of the table, but today I was at the left hand of the head of the table. We have homemade lasagna. It’s better than what you know.

It just is, and I’m not sorry about that, but I am sorry for you.

My godmother-in-law reads a bit of scripture. The kids dine in the kitchen, and the oldest one, is gracious enough to dine over there. Better than spending time with us, I’m sure. She is on the right side of the median age, and she’s smart enough that she figured that out long before I did.

She is now preparing to go to college next fall, where she’ll play field hockey on a campus that looks like it came straight out of a European fairy tale. (They have a castle.) People are buying her gifts to decorate her dorm room. I am trying to decide how to buy her car things and not hurt the tiny little ember of credibility I have in her eyes.

We chat. Some people have coffee. Cookies and other treats appear from nowhere. Before long, someone has to scurry off to this event, and then someone else must slip away for that event. It’s a lovely way to wind down the holidays, and mark it all with people who like you enough to include you into things. I am grateful for that. And the lasagna. But mostly to be included.

A little while later, everyone sets out for home. I help move a few things around so our hosts don’t have to. There are many hugs and all of the usual things. My in-laws head north. We head south.

We stopped in to check on the cats of a friend. The front door was partially open. I grabbed something sturdy and swing-able and we walked through the whole of the house. No one was there. The cats were there. The lights were on in the proper configuration. The back door was locked. The pantry was open. We called the neighbor, a woman who dashed right over in her pajamas and long coat. She’d been in. And she’d opened the pantry. Maybe she’d forgot to latch and lock the door. We all had a laugh. I made a joke about wiping down my fingerprints.

We got home around 8 p.m., and for some reason I thought it was time for bed, but it was 8 p.m. So we sat up and watched the game and read and I’ll soon go to bed. Tomorrow, it is back to work.

The first part of this break flew by. Now I’ll need the second part to pass much, much more slowly.

adventures / books / family / Friday — Comments Off
26
Dec 25

A quiet end to a quiet week

Weather is coming in, and the whole region is in a tizzy. Snow and then ice. Or maybe it is ice and then snow. Could it be rain and then snow and then ice?

(It turned out to be sleet, and then rain. And that was about it. So it could have been worse. Indeed, in some places it was far more dramatic.)

The in-laws had come down yesterday. They celebrated a quiet Christmas with us and had planned to head back home just after lunch, but that forecast meant they were going to leave mid-morning.

So, last night, I’d set my alarm so I could be sociable for a a little while before they left. It seemed like a good idea until the alarm went off. When the alarm went off it woke me up from a dream. In the dream, I was giving — to an unseen audience — the little speech I give to students after Thanksgiving break. “I know you’ve done a lot. I know you’re tired. Rededicate yourself to this for three more weeks so you can finish strong.”

I woke up from a dream giving that speech. And I woke up exhausted.

So I decided that, instead of starting back to work tomorrow, I’ll give myself the day off.

Also, my throat is a little scratchy? And I’m sneezing some.

Anyway, my father-in-law asked me to put a little air in one of his rear tires, which I was happy to do. Plug in the travel compressor, attach it to the tire stem, top him off with about four whole pounds.

I got that travel compressor years and years ago, as a Christmas gift. It lives in the trunk of my car, just a fabulous gift. You can get a modern version similar to it for about $30 and I can tell you whatever it cost back when, it has paid for itself many times over. (If you get the sort that plugs into a cigarette lighter for power, make sure it has a very long power cable, so you can easily reach your back wheel.)

We went back inside, warmed up and sat for a bit, unsure how to talk trash about the music trivia game we’d played last night. He won the first round and I won the second. The four of us are already planning rematches. I clearly need to do some studying.

They made it home without incident, home before the weather. My lovely bride and I had a quiet afternoon and evening, at home, reading. I have to finish a few things so I can get to one of these, which I received for Christmas.

Santa brought me the first of this Rick Atkinson trilogy a few years ago. This second installment was released earlier this year, which was about two years longer than I wanted to wait. The British Are Coming was such a great read, covering a lot of ground, human and real, thoughtful and beautifully detailed. I could say that about everything of Atkinson’s work that I’ve read — the man has won the Pulitzer Prize for reporting, twice, and once for his historical works — and I’m sure The Fate of the Day will be another wonderful read.

That other book, Men at Work could be another good read. My Santa Claus book club never steers me wrong.

And that’s why I need to get some other stuff read. Guess what I’m doing this weekend?

Tonight, I turned on the light in the backyard several times, and just saw rain.

I wonder what I’ll see what I wake up tomorrow.

adventures / Alabama / family / Monday / photo — Comments Off
22
Dec 25

Fam week

And we’re back! Quite literally. I am in my little chair, which I bought four years ago with birthday money. My feet are up on a stool I made in junior high. My arms resting on my desk, which I made eight years ago.

That seems impossible somehow. And explains why occasionally I wonder what a new desk, a real desk, would be like. I made this out of pallet wood and, in a go-big-or-go-home way, it was the second thing I’d made since … well, almost junior high. And, in some ways, it shows!

But it holds my things, so it is good enough for now.

Anyway, we’ve been out of town the last week. Did you miss me? Did you notice?

We flew out Monday evening to Nashville. We got a rental car from Hertz, a hybrid Kia. Would not recommend it. The car had a Florida tag, so I was Florida man for a week, and drove like it. Would not recommend either of those two things, either.

We drove down to north Alabama, where we visited with my mother for the week. Highlights include, hanging out with her and helping around the house, seeing my grandfather, and rebuilding a closet shelf for him. I also helped him clean out a closet and bureau. I ate more food than necessary — including, in one meal, more fried food than should be approved for anyone. We had Mexican twice, catfish once. We watched football. And so the week flew by.

We also saw a cousin, and his new baby. I looked this up, she is my first cousin twice removed. She’s six months old and adorable. Right after lunch they went to this place that exists just to exist, apparently. It’s there because there are parking lots, and a bunch of little stores surrounding all of this. Inside this building, though, was a little Santa display. Small little setup, great looking Santa. And so we watched the kid take her first Santa pictures, and watched her mother absolutely humiliate herself to make her baby giggle for the camera, which she did. It was beautiful. They gave us a photo.

The place we were at, of course, was a mall. Or used to be. It has some out-of-town owners, and they’ve put up a lot of local propaganda. It is obvious they are trying to learn about the place, and convince the locals that they know about the place. And, I suppose if you’re in need of a visit to Sunglass Hut, Claire’s, American Eagle, Bath & Bodyworks, or Spencer’s, you would see those messages.

This is a small town, but that was a once-proud mall. Now they’ve framed up the stores to hide the empty windows. As for all out-of-time spaces, I try to imagine what this could be. Apartments, pickleball courts, a series of specialty medical clinics, a real and vibrant community activity center. It could host a couple of amazing worker spaces, or museums, or both. Or maybe a business incubator or an adult learning facility. Or maybe it could even be a place where you can buy things. But, instead, it just, is. And stuff like this is hanging from the walls everywhere.

C.S. Lewis isn’t going to help you much with this, mall.

Anyway, the father of the new Santa’s village child model is my cousin’s son. And everyone always thinks he’s like me. Poor guy. Now he’s in his mid-20s and knows everything. Poor guy. And occasionally, I try to impart wisdom. Poor guy. We also exchange music, so I gave him two records — an Avett Brothers and a Ryan Adams record. He played it cool. He better enjoy them.

Also last week, I did a lot of grading. My last two finals came due while I was traveling, or down there. And I wrapped up the assessments for two classes, and submitted the final scores. I still must wrap up my online grading, and get those in. Guess what I’m doing tomorrow.

adventures / family / photo / Rowan / Tuesday — Comments Off
30
Sep 25

2ENI6S

We went to see a big field hockey game tonight. It was senior night for my god-niece-in-law (just go with it.) My in-laws came down to see their god-granddaughter. (I guess that’s how it works? The field hockey player is the daughter of their goddaughter. This would get confusing pretty quickly after that.) So we all went to her high school together. Her sister is on the junior varsity team, and they played first. The younger Jaguars won their game, and fans trickled in all night. By the time they dragged out the balloon arch for the senior night festivities both sets of her grandparents, her god-grandparents, her god-aunt-and-uncle and a bunch of her friends were there. They made signs and posters and had big Fathead-style faces. It was all quite cute.

She was, I think, the third athlete through the balloon arch. The guy on the PA introduces her and her parents and her little sister. He read off her career highlights, which at this point is something like 10-plus years of field hockey. He had a little sentence or two from the player thanking her family, and a note about what’s next, where she’s going to school, what she’s planning to study.

The sun was going down about that time.

And then, when all the seniors were introduced they went out there and played a game against the Lions. And the seniors went out in style, winning 5-0.

The cool thing was, after dinner, she said she got a piece of the ball on the last goal, though it was credited to one of her teammates. But she was glad for that. The other player hadn’t yet scored this year.

She’s always been a thoughtful girl; she’s going to be a pretty spectacular woman.

Though I guess we’ll do this again during softball season. How many senior nights do you need?

All of them, if you’re the senior.

I mentioned this the last time we went to see her play, but they host their home games on the high school’s football field, which is actually a multipurpose field. They also play their soccer there, and some of their track and field events are held there, too. If you’re sitting on the home side you see the high school in the background. And off to your left is a little building that is probably a field house. The side that faces the parking lot is painted red, and right in the center is the word:

2ENI6S

The graduating class all signed their names in a bit a of condoned graffiti. Though I wonder how the teachers feel about that treatment of the word. And how the class of 2027 will mangle it.

I visited the concession stand tonight and bought a handful of things for various members of our section of fans, a sandwich, three drinks, two pretzels. The students staffing the concession stand could not calculate the price. (It was $16 I told them.)

All of this gives me a great deal of material. So I pointed at this new construction in the western corner of the sports field.

“I hope it is a learning center!”

It is, of course, a new field house. Athletics first, and at all cost. Even at a good school — and their school scores in the top four percent of the state. But still, 2ENI6S, simple math.

We all went to the star players’ for dinner and family revelry. It was a wonderful evening.

In class today we discussed The Concussion Files:

The Post reviewed more than 15,000 pages of documents relating to efforts by more than 100 former players to qualify for settlement benefits, including thousands of pages of confidential medical and legal records. The Post also interviewed more than 100 people involved with the settlement — including players, widows, lawyers and doctors — as well as 10 board-certified neurologists and neuropsychologists for their expertise on how dementia is typically diagnosed.

Among The Post’s findings:

The settlement’s definition for dementia requires more impairment than the standard definition used in the United States. Several doctors who have evaluated players told The Post that if they used the settlement’s definition in regular care, they would routinely fail to diagnose dementia in ailing patients. “I assumed this was written this way, on purpose, just to save the NFL money,” said Carmela Tartaglia, an associate professor of neurology at the University of Toronto.

At least 14 players have, like Cross, failed to qualify for settlement money or medical care and then died, only to have CTE confirmed via autopsy. Eight of these players were diagnosed in life with dementia or a related memory disorder but still failed to qualify for settlement benefits.

In more than 70 cases reviewed by The Post, players were diagnosed with dementia by board-certified doctors, only to see their claims denied by the administrative law firm that oversees the settlement. While the NFL has often blamed denied claims on fraud, none of the denials reviewed by The Post contained allegations of fraud. Instead, records show, settlement review doctors simply overruled physicians who actually evaluated players, often blaming dementia symptoms on other health problems also linked to concussions, including depression and sleep apnea.

The NFL’s network of settlement doctors has been beset by systemic administrative breakdowns since its inception. Former players suffering from dementia wait, on average, more than 15 months just to see doctors and get the records they need to file a claim. Maynard was one of two players The Post found who waited more than two years to get paperwork and died before they could get paid.

In total, court records show, the settlement has approved about 900 dementia claims since it opened in 2017. It has denied nearly 1,100, including almost 300 involving players who were diagnosed by the settlement’s own doctors.

It’s an aggravating story, and it should annoy readers. And some of my students were aggravated by what they read — which leaves some questions about a few other students.

We also talked about this story.

On the face of it, playing chess and competing in the NBA couldn’t be further apart.

One requires monk-like levels of silent concentration – particularly in classical chess – while the other demands physical dominance, peak athleticism and the ability to stay composed in a frenzied atmosphere.

But it seems there is more that links the two sports than initially meets the eye – just ask NBA legend Derrick Rose.

The 2011 NBA MVP has been leading a new and unlikely collaboration between the worlds of chess and professional basketball.

That story didn’t seem to connect, but for different reasons.

Those were in my criticism class, of course. In org comm class we wrapped up the unit on branding. The students broke up into their fantasy football franchise groups and had to do an assignment which asked them to assess the sort of star power that each of their players possess. Then they had to pick three players from their team which would be the most likely pitchmen, and then assign them products or brands they would advertise for. It went well, and it all just goes on the now large stack of things I need to grade.

And that starts tomorrow. I am able to devote an entire day to pecking away at the computer and I am weirdly looking forward to it.

adventures / family / Friday / maps / photo / Switzerland — Comments Off
20
Jun 25

On the rail again

Up early this morning for a small Italian breakfast, then a short walk to an Italian train station — most of Italy’s transit workers are on strike, we found out two or three days ago and got lucky with a backup plan. Our route looked like this.

We arrived in Interlaken, as planned, in what is almost the center of Switzerland. Definitely it is one of the tourist centers. And who could blame the tourists for coming to places with views like this?

And that’s just on the way there.

After a quick bus ride we arrived at our hotel — a small little place run by a kind, small man and his family, with Swiss efficiency. There are maybe 16 rooms. This is the balcony view we’ll enjoy (but not slow down enough to see often) for the next few days. That view is not bad.

Click to embiggen.

If you just look down at the water, it is awfully inviting in the middle of this heat wave.

We took a ride back into Interlaken for dinner. And by “we,” I mean my lovely bride and her parents. This is an in-laws trip, which I don’t think I’ve mentioned. Here they all are after dinner.

A few years back, 2019 in fact, we decided we should take a trip, and this year we were able to do it. And now here we are, in beautiful Switzerland.

Tomorrow, we go up a mountain.