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Archive for July 3rd, 2011

Spare Me

Being semi-retired I’ve had some time to reflect back on events of my childhood that probably helped shape my character and one such event included little brother Bob.

When we were youngsters we spent a lot of time with Mom’s parents Gilbert and Maude Neal shown below. Grandma and Grandpa Neal were active grandparents, participants in several bowling leagues and both obviously loved to bowl.

Gramma and Grampa Neal, circa 1975

No matter what the weather they would be at our house early every Saturday morning to pick us up when we lived in Akron and we would head off to Riviera Lanes to bowl. When they first took us we couldn’t even pick up the bowling ball so we would set it on the foul line and push it down the alley.

One Saturday Bob began his game by rolling two gutter balls in the first frame and followed that up with two gutter balls each in both the second, third and fourth frames. Being competitive brothers back then I couldn’t have been more thrilled with what was happening and was obviously hoping for more of the same.

Fifth, sixth and seventh frames all gutter balls from Bob, are you kidding me this was too good to be true I was delighted and started to wonder if maybe he wouldn’t get a single pin for the whole game. Ha – wouldn’t that be great, boy then I could really rub it in !

The eighth and ninth frames came and went with two more gutter balls in each frame from Bob. Wait a minute something was terribly wrong, the elation I felt just a couple of frames earlier was gone, it was no longer there. I actually found myself wanting to root for him in the tenth frame, come one one pin at least let him get one pin !

Unfortunately it was not to be, two more gutter balls followed in the tenth frame and Bob walked back and started to cry. So what did I do – I started to cry too ! Grandma Neal looked at me and said “Jimmy why are you crying Bobby had the bad game and I said I feel bad for my brother”.

Ha Ha – kinda a corny story, but true. I think the life lesson I learned from bowling that day is that nothing positive is gained from using your emotions in a negative way !

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A few days ago the button on my shorts — after gamely attempting to deal with the enormous tensile strain caused by my middle-aged spread — abruptly fell off.  I immediately thought of the crucial line of a ’70s commercial for a product called The Buttoneer that claimed to securely fasten buttons.  As the ad showed footage of buttons dangerously exploding away from pants, shirts, and other articles of clothing, an announcer grimly, and repeatedly, intoned:  “The problem with buttons is they always fall off!”

With times being tough, it would be dumb to pay a professional to do something I should be able to do.  So, I decided to re-anchor the button myself, using one of those tiny sewing kits you get at some hotels.  Although I had never used a needle and thread before, I was acquainted with the basics.  You thread the needle, tie a knot in one end of the thread, and then insert the needle in and through the fabric, pulling the thread through and working through each of the the four holes in the button until it is snug against the garment.  Fortunately, the needle was already threaded, and I didn’t stab myself in the thumb more than once or twice.  Admittedly, it’s not  a professional looking job, but the button is back on and functional.  And when my sewing exercise was done, I felt a pleasant sense of accomplishment.

As I was moving the needle back and forth, I idly wondered what I had missed by not taking home economics during high school.  In my school, that really wasn’t an option.  Boys took shop, girls took home ec.  These days, though, being able to cook and create and repair clothing seems a heck of a lot more useful that being able to create a candlestick on any lathe that might be nearby.

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Last night Kish and I had my Vorys mentees — Prew, Ru, Brew, and Shu — and their families over for a cookout to start the holiday weekend.  In recognition of my recent purchase and blog posting, the mentees decided everyone should wear a hat.  It was touching gesture that made the occasion even more fun.

We had a cheese plate, chips, white bean dip, and black bean salsa.  Brew brought an orzo salad chock full of inedible vegetables.  I tried with limited success to make the addictive warm balsamic popcorn dish served at Crop in Cleveland.  Noah charmed all assembled.  White wine, pina coladas, and beer flowed like melted ice in the hot sun.  Cobby and Bram apparently found a helicopter in our bushes.  Penny behaved so badly she was ashamed to show her face to the camera.  We grilled marinated chicken, cheeseburgers, hot dogs and brats.  Prew’s lemon tart was a big hit come dessert time.

And at the end of the evening, a few hardy stalwarts remained, talking and brushing away insects in the warm summer air as afternoon turned to twilight and finally to full evening.  It was a very good way to start the Fourth of July weekend.

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