Varmint reduction, a/c, etc. (1969 style)

I've never fired any weapon more lethal than a BB gun.  But my brother Steve did, even going back to the '60s.  I remember the day in question here quite vividly.  From my diary of 45 years ago (Steve was 16, I was 13):

"June 28 (Sat) Good Day.  In morning went hauling beans from overhead bins at Florian Faber's.  Twins lost.  Steve shot 3 more coons that were crawlin' up corn crib.  One got in the crib, but Steve got it in the forehead with a lucky shot.  Had to crawl up a ladder to get it.  Steve threw it down.  It glanced off my shoulder - some brains got on my shirt!!!  Went to practice organ.  Came home."

A few things I notice in the photo (by the way:  nice picture, Mom):

• Our very fine dog - Joe-Boy - seems quite interested in the remains of one of the victims (pretty clearly a very young raccoon).  
• Farmall M parked in corn crib alley, cultivator attached, tin can atop muffler in case of rain.
• Beautiful evening sunlight - very long days that time of year.
• Corn crib still looks to be in pretty good shape, and certainly full of ear corn (as was the shed behind it).
• Somebody had done a pretty nice job mowing the grass/weeds around those buildings.
• Note usage of color film - still somewhat a novelty for us; my mom had just started using it the year before for Grandpa and Grandma Bormann's golden wedding celebration. 

It was a typical lazy summer weekend for those days; the next day:  "June 29 (Sun)  Went to 2nd Mass and played organ.  Put air conditioner on and it felt good.  Dave McGuire and Irvin Mertz were here to print KC bulletin.  Fooled around all day.  Watched track meet."

The fact that it was notable that we turned on the air conditioner prompted me to flip back a few pages . . . "June 19 (Thu) Good Day.  Wayne Sanford and his assistant Leonard Johns came over to install whole house air conditioning.  They got it in.  We took out old furnace which was in cellar yet.  Mowed lawn at night."

I'll bet we were pretty pleased to have a/c, even if we were quite used to living without it.

Regarding air conditioning, color film and other evolving technologies - it's interesting to think about the method for printing that "KC (Knights of Columbus) bulletin"  - I'm pretty sure they were using one of this company's devices.  Seems quite primitive now, but it got the job done.  And we always enjoyed Irvin's non-stop chuckling - and Dave McGuire's overall affable-ness - on bulletin-printing Sundays.  (I think this started during my dad's regime as Grand Knight.)

Beatles inaugural U.S. visit (February 7, 1964)

This being the 50th anniversary of the Beatles' first U.S. trip, the media is full of retrospectives of one sort or the other.  I hadn't quite turned eight years old, and have no recollection of the event - probably about as connected with pop culture events then as now, just for different reasons.

In grade school art class, I consistently,
and charitably, received a grade of "C".

But I do remember that my mom had bought Beatles spiral notebooks - maybe a set of four featuring all of the famous visages?  And I recently had run across mine when looking for the notebook mentioned here.  So it turns out that we were well aware of the Beatles.  And I got McCartney - probably because we shared the name Paul?  Now he's a knight, whatever that means these days.

The notebook's cover page received similar treatment as was given to plenty of baseball cards in those days, at least for players we didn't like.  I don't recall disliking McCartney, but who knows.

And then there's my drawing on the first page of the notebook, featuring the fab four performing under a starlit sky and a scruffy thing that no doubt is supposed to represent a tree.  But even my drawing isn't entirely respectful of the boys, as it includes a fellow behind the tree preparing to detonate a crude-looking bomb.  Hmm.

This particular artwork is from my personal collection - not submitted in the classroom.  Still, if a seven-year-old
handed in  something like this to a teacher in 2014, wouldn't the pupil be sent off for extended counseling?

NBA notes: smitten early; Pearl

When occasionally talking basketball with our children around here as they grew up, I always told them that I had far preferred the NBA over college nonsense-ball going back to my earliest recollections of seeing Association games on TV in the 1960s.  (And, of course, nationally televised games were few and far between back then - an occasional Sunday afternoon game in black and white; weeknight finals games often on tape delay all the way up to the beginning of the Bird-Magic era.)

PMG diary from 1969.  Less than two months
short of becoming a teenager.

My favorite player to watch back then - not a close call - was Earl Monroe (in his Baltimore Bullets days).  (By the time he got to the Knicks - and finally received national recognition via a New York stage - his knees were shot and he was *just* a very good role player on a very good team.)  In his Baltimore days - highly unique style, way ahead of his time.  Specialty = all variations of spin moves.  Much of it would not look so special to today's observer - but it was mesmerizing at the time.  Especially to would-be defenders who just hadn't seen much of this kind of thing (unless they had played for the Washington Generals).  Or to an Iowa farm kid who had seen exactly none of it.  (Various Pearl clips are easily findable online, for example this one.)

I'm not unique in being infatuated with Mr. Monroe - how about the fellow in the below clip (from a movie I need to see, if any other part of it is as awesome as this clip) - to Ray Allen's character's edification, the older guy (who I learn via Wikpedia is Denzel Washington playing his father, in a movie directed by Spike Lee) totally gets the Pearl thing (to the point of understanding the Bullets-era Pearl in comparison to the Knick version) (though the divinity thing might be a step too far):



In those days I dutifully and thoroughly disliked the Boston Celtics - headlined by Bill Russell, they definitely were the Yankees of the NBA.  Watching them win was tiresome.

As happens with kids - watching the NBA games often would get me wound up to the point where I would go outside and work on my "moves," if that's what you could call them, using the hoop Dad had hung on the yard light pole in the gravel driveway outside the farm house.  Depending on the stage of the NBA season, that involved snow, gloves, whatever.

January 26, 1969 box score from this site

Anyway, I ran across the above diary entry from back in 1969 that reminded me, quite strongly, of all this.  It was a fine, quiet January Sunday, exactly 45 years ago.  Went to first Mass; painted on my paint-by-number oil paint set (doubtless a Santa gift); played on the "Carom" board (ditto); watched Walt Disney at night.  AND in the afternoon:  watched Earl Monroe and the Bullets get smoked by the Celtics - ugh.  What happened?  The Bullets actually were very good that year, and Pearl was at the height of his powers.  Per box score - just two points (and never even got to the line)?  How is that even possible?  (Maybe Pearl was tired from a 31-point effort against the Hawks the prior day in a game down the road in Baltimore?) (Don Nelson - a now-fat, retired coach - put up 26 for Boston.)

Anyway, the NBA-viewing did lead to a post-game outdoor basketball shoot-around session - per diary, "had fun but about froze our hands" (understandable per weather info below).  Wonder who was out shooting with me?  Steve?  Charlie?  Both?  Cecilia was a great accomplice for all things sport-related but I don't much remember her out shooting baskets after NBA games like this.

[Random note:  how appropriate is it that Javaris Crittendon played for a successor team to the Baltimore Bullets (a team nickname which became socially unacceptable in the gunplay-ridden Washington DC area)?]

The NBA infatuation continues.

No wonder the diary reports that we "about froze our hands" - temp (30 miles south) topped out at 15 F that day.  
I'm guessing we were forced to wear a glove on our shooting hand for most of the time we were out there. 
(Typically tried to avoid that as much as possible - shooting conditions bad enough as it was.)

some notes about MAD (and but-for causation about meeting PJ)

Re-reading A Canticle for Leibowitz along with the rest of the group.  I like it better each time.

I was reminded of my first encounter with the book - in an "International Relations" class in November 1976 (junior year at ND) - the book was on the syllabus.  I don't recall that we spent much time discussing the book in class (though more on that below); it definitely was useful background for a lecture or two on the topic of "Mutual Assured Destruction."

Given that few nuclear weapons have been destroyed - and quite a few more nations (including some less-stable ones) hold them - it's somewhat surprising how much the popular concern over nuclear war has receded in recent decades.  (Easier to understand why MAD theory is less relevant, however.)

Buddies:  Nikita Khrushchev and Fidel Castro.

Last week, I was looking for the floor plan of our house in connection with some upstairs redecorating we're planning, and found it - along with a few notebooks from my college classes.  That gave me the idea to post my notes from the 1976 classes on MAD/Leibowitz - not because they're particularly unique or insightful - but to recall how intense those issues were even in 1976, and to suggest that those issues (MAD, in particular) were considerably more intense when Canticle was written in 1959.  Which is useful context for reading the book.

[Something interesting about these class notes:  as the below-posted notes indicate, I missed class on November 12, 1976.  That most likely was the day on which the class would have discussed Canticle.  Per my diary, my absence was due to a plausible academic reason - I was registering for spring semester classes.  I burned extra time registering that day because I decided to make a second trip to the registrar to swap out one of the classes for which I had originally registered.  My diary indicates ". . . then [went] to O'Shag [home building for College of Arts & Letters] to change into a GP [General Program] Seminar, should be better [than the Collegiate Seminar initially chosen]."  Why are these few words interesting?  I would never have met PJ (who, unlike me, was a General Program major) but for skipping the Canticle class on 11/12/76 to switch into that General Program seminar.  Which would have had consequences for all of us, not the least in relation to our five children.]

Back to MAD:  this simple chronology may be instructive:

• 1945:  Hiroshima
• 1950s and onward:  Cold War between nuclear-armed and ideologically-divided East and West
• 1959:  Miller writes A Canticle for Leibowitz
• 1962:  Cuban missile crisis in October; civil defense drills for grade-schoolers in St. Joe, Iowa; as winter arrives we're told not to stick out our tongues to catch snowflakes because the snow might have fallout from various nuclear weapons tests going on; etc.
• [Early 1960s:  we make a Tinkertoy elevator, wind the elevator car - with lone passenger being a toy figure we named "Nikita Khruschev" - to the top floor, and drop the elevator five or six Tinkertoy-stories, presumably to his disadvantage.  That showed him.  Do today's six or seven year olds have this kind of thing on their minds?] 
• Since 1962:  no really close calls.
• 1989:  Berlin Wall comes down.

No wonder popular concern has receded - though the monsters (or Lucifer, we might say) certainly remain available for unleashing.

Class notes follow (and, I must admit, my 1976 handwriting was really quite excellent).

MAD notes November 1976.pdf

Recording a Christmas album (A-Caroling (1977))

front cover of album . . . 

In December 1977 (thirty-five years ago this month) - my senior year in college - the Notre Dame Glee Club was finalizing a holiday sales push for our new Christmas album - named "A-Caroling".  Putting together the album was one of so-many excellent experiences during my four years with the NDGC.  Possibly the most enduring, simply because it involves a recording.

I think the album has aged quite well.  Was listening to it in the car over the last couple days and decided to put down a few thoughts about it.

A major impetus for recording the album was fund-raising - we were planning a European concert tour that would start right after spring 1978 commencement.  (We had undertaken a similar initiative in 1974-75 (my freshman year) - actually recorded two albums during that academic year (one Christmas, one a mix of  ND/fight song type stuff and "other") in support of a 1975 European concert tour.)

Recording one of the songs that had piano accompaniment.  Needed Dave Kollar for page turns.  12/11/76

The 1977 Christmas album was intended as a step up from the 1974 version.  Instead of renting mikes and setting up risers in Sacred Heart Church on campus for the recording (a la 1974), we reserved some time at a studio in Chicago.  So this felt like a much bigger deal - we probably imagined we were acting rather professional.   The recording session was held the prior academic year - Saturday, December 11, 1976.  We took two school buses in late-afternoon to Chicago, had an evening recording session, then returned to campus around 3:30 in the morning.  This timing had two advantages:  we recorded selections of our Christmas repertoire while it was fresh from a campus performance, and we had time to get the album finalized (sometime in 1977) and organize a marketing campaign geared toward Christmas gift-giving in 1977.

JPJ 5655 - Jim Johnston was prime mover.  Side 1 . . . 

For me, the focus of the recording session, and nerve-wracking element, was that two songs on the to-be-recorded list had piano accompaniments.  These are not that challenging technically, even for somebody like me - but I was quite worried.  There were still quite a few notes to hit - and absolutely no clunkers allowed.  (And some may recall that NDGC folks sometimes called me "mittens" in those days (in jest, I am sure hope).)  I also needed to do a reasonably good job with dynamics throughout (though post-production editing could at least smooth that out).  (To reduce risk, I dropped some of the notes on the last page of the "Lord's Prayer.") And for these minor pains, I got something anyone would have wanted in the 70s:  my name on a real live record album (beneath song list in photo of "Side 1" of the record)!

In the end:  it was a great experience.  Christmas music is the best thing, after all.  David Isele had put together several very effective  arrangements for us.  Leaving the studio we didn't know exactly how the session was going to turn out, but were pretty confident the product would be good.

Charlie Gales (then a high school senior) sizing up a sucker customer for 1974 album.  "A-Caroling" albums 
on stack at front.  NDGC concert, Garrigan High School, Algona, Iowa, October 1977.  John Gales in back.

Don't know whether we made much money off this project, and don't recall specifics of the marketing.  I'm sure we placed albums in the bookstore, had them included in ND catalogs, etc.  We also sold them at each concert while on tour in autumn 1977 (per October 1977 photos from Algona, Iowa), and everyone was encouraged to badger their friends and relatives.

I think it's difficult in 2012 to consider how exciting it was in 1977 to have a record album like this.  2012:  everything is recorded (including video) and shared instantly.  1977:  pretty much one-of-a-kind experience to have something to listen to.  (Other than the record albums - all we have are a few late 70's concert recordings of varying quality on audio tapes.  No video whatever.)  I vividly recall enjoying playing the album for my parents late at night after the 10-hour drive home from Notre Dame for break in 1977 - it was unique, a big deal.  They were big supporters (and inspirers) of my musical attempts, as always.

Sophisticated signage, well-trained sales staff: how could we fail?  GHS, October 1977.  Gene Ulses at right.

And the record made a great gift for folks for Christmas 1977.  I even gave a record (with inscription on back cover) to this pretty girl I liked who was living in Walsh Hall at the time (yup, it was PJ herself).  She seemed quite appreciative.  (And became another big supporter of my various musical attempts, still relentlessly showing up for the choral performances etc.)

Final note:  it was much fun to visit Jan Zintak three-plus decades later (December 2008), enjoy a fine holiday gathering at her condo, and listen to this very same recording of Christmas music - played by Jan on her cassette player (another technological throwback experience).

Some audio clips from the 1977 album:

My favorite of the two songs with piano accompaniment:  Malotte's version of "The Lord's Prayer":



My favorite of all of the NDGC Christmas songs:  "Lo, How a Rose":



The other song with piano accompaniment:  "Do You Hear What I Hear?":



An Isele arrangement that I much like: "What Child is This"



More Isele (pretty sure this is the best version of "O Come O Come Immanuel" that I've heard):



And how about the homage to A-Caroling on this very odd website (from which I grabbed photos)?  (The site also has links to all of the songs on the album.)  Plus, I rather like the short review that appears there:  "Editor's note: one of the better records of the season. About what you'd expect from an university choir: professional enough to fool a tone deaf dolt like myself. Not that anyone was listening for faults in the performance."

I very much like having - and having had the opportunity to participate in creating - this album.

back cover of album . . . 

me = third from right in front row.  Recording session, 12/11/76, Chicago, Illinois.

1970 folk music (with audio)

Back in autumn 1970, I was a freshman at Garrigan H.S.  One of our teachers - English class, I'm thinking - required a small-group project.  This involved a class presentation of some sort in addition to written material.

Our little group decided to work an anti-war song into the presentation.  (And why not:  the Vietnam war was much in the news, and not in a positive way; we 14/15-year-olds probably felt pretty grown-up grabbing onto the theme.)

Garrigan HS "Coffee House", spring 1974.  
Playing bass guitar here.

That's all I remember about the project topic.  There was a girl named Shelly Nichols in our group.  I didn't know it when we started the project, but she actually had a very good voice, certainly the best singer in our entire class (of 104).  And then there was me:  earnestly trying to learn the guitar (as many of us did in those days); and much taken with folk performers like Peter, Paul and Mary (that last part hasn't changed).

For inclusion in the class presentation, we recorded a Civil War-era song that was then widely performed in the antiwar (or was it, in large part, the anti-draft?) movement.  The name of the song (still widely known) was "The Cruel War."

I recall we struggled to record it on a reel-to-reel tape machine; how it ever was preserved at all (if in poor quality), I don't know.  I was playing the guitar accompaniment and also trying to provide a vocal harmony line.  As far as I can recall, this is the only recording of any performance from my youthful days (no, supporting roles in burp tapes don't count).  (And no, however it sounds, I don't recall feeling ill that day.)

With that said:  here's what remains of the version that Ms. Nichols and I recorded over 40 years ago:



Prior to the recording I had spent a ton of time listening to the Peter, Paul and Mary version of this song, and we were trying to imitate it as closely as possible.  (Well, as closely as possible considering we were missing a few key things:  talent level, studio musicians, we only had two of the three voices, etc.)  We did mimic the humming approach for the guy part at 2:20 (and the humming for all parts at 2:58).

Here's what we were trying to imitate (and yes, I still really like Peter, Paul and Mary recordings):

Baling (our one and only time)

EMG (on Super-M) arrives with bales.  House, lawn, corn crop, St. Joe church - all looking good.

Baling hay was a bigtime task for most farmers when I was growing up on the farm in the '60s and '70s.  But my dad didn't raise livestock, and we didn't have a need for bales.  So we were entirely deprived of the experience.   

Carol and Mary on the lookout for some bales to chuck around.

Baling in those days was another one of those tasks that involved lots of manual labor.  (The method employed then has been almost entirely eclipsed by making hay into huge bales that can be handled entirely by machine.)  Back then, a hard-working farm kid would stack up the bales (formed by machine) on a rack pulled along by a tractor; then the bales were transported from field to farm, and then sent by elevator up into a barn for later use with livestock.  (Of course, even this was heavily mechanized compared to earlier eras.)  The 1970s process is immortalized all over places like youtube these days (for example, take a look at  http://youtu.be/n1ZZoNy5ysY).



Anyway - for whatever reason, the Capesiuses baled hay in 1977 from down on the Ray Gales farm near Livermore, and somebody decided it would be stored in the loft of the barn on the Ernest J. Gales farm on the hill overlooking St. Joe.  We were in charge of getting the bales stacked in the loft.  


Fortunately, we had an elite work force:  Charlie, Carol, Mary and me.  EMG was the brains behind the outfit, of course, and (as such) got to do the tractor driving and general supervising.


Apparently it was a pretty hot July day, though I don't remember it being such.



It was a minor interlude in that summer's work, but I have always recalled it as a very pleasant day.  Several reasons.  It was a novelty task for us.  It wasn't very hard.  And Charlie and I had a lot of fun working with Carol and Mary (who unfortunately were not part of our usual corn shelling crew).  I assume they were more than mascots for this task.  


And, I took a few pictures - which certainly assists memory.  I always liked the top two pictures in this set (even if the second one is a photographic crime).  The top photo shows the hill farm, with St. Joe in the background, when everything was still in very good shape.  Even the Super-M.  Click any to access enlargements of all.


35 years ago this month.

Mary and Charlie loading into elevator.

Me, chucking around bales in barn loft.

elephant ride

When I was part of a Milwaukee-based law firm, PJ and I went to Milwaukee twice a year for partner meetings.  This was surprisingly enjoyable.

In 1992, we included the Milwaukee jaunt into our Midwest family visits.  There is a small town in Milwaukee (Baraboo) that apparently was important to the circus business (as discussed here).    Our visit to Milwaukee coincided with a summertime circus parade - a big festival in Milwaukee, I think they ran the circus wagons all the way from Baraboo in some sort of ritual.

Anyway:  that's why N, C, K, P and P are riding an elephant in this photo.  In Milwaukee.  Exactly 20 years ago now.  I like PJ's photo - it picks up the flag atop the circus tent.

what to do with this?

Here's a 1960s era gift that I've not had occasion to cash in.  It raises a few questions.

What was going through the mind of the gift-giver?  Why did CCG think this was something I wanted?  I realize the situation reversed itself quickly in the 1970s, but at the time of this gift wasn't I bigger and stronger than the gift-giver anyway?  Couldn't I have just taken a free slap without this permission slip?

I wonder whether I have the right to assign it to a third party?  Need to check with the folks studying for the bar exam.  If assignable, what would be the market for this kind of thing?

1977 piano recital (with audio)

In the hope that I might become a competent piano accompanist for the Notre Dame Glee Club during my undergraduate years (fall 1974 - spring 1978), it was suggested basically mandated that I take private piano lessons.  First teacher:  Denise Humphrey.  I liked working with her, a lot, and think I benefited from it.

Talented - and stylish.  April 22, 1977, Crowley Hall.

My Glee Club friend, Dave Kollar, also took lessons from Denise - maybe starting his sophomore year?  Unlike me, Dave hadn't had formal lessons going back to early grade school.  Also unlike me, he progressed very rapidly. 

Denise had the idea that we should do a recital in the spring semester of our junior year -  it was scheduled for April 22, 1977 (exactly 35 years ago).  Were we really competent to put this on?  Probably not - I just wasn't good enough technically to carry off a solo program.  But having a recital to work toward was quite exciting, and definitely helped give our practice time a focal point.  And the Glee Club conductor - David Isele - was incredibly supportive, even to the point of composing "F.L.C." - a duet certain to bring the concert to a thrilling conclusion (no matter what mediocrity type of performance might have preceded it).

Perfecting F.L.C.  A couple hours before the concert. April 22, 1977, Crowley Hall.

We feverishly prepared as the big day arrived - rented tux accessories, lined up a quarter keg, made party arrangements, encouraged bullied shamed invited friends to committing to attend.  And we practiced our piano pieces, I think.  Denise really made it happen, everything from lining up programs to making arrangements at the Crowley Recital Hall.  She did us a big favor simply by getting access to the recital hall for two folks who weren't music majors.

(As I'll write about separately, I was just getting to know my wife-to-be that very semester.  But I thought PJ might be too cool to attend a potentially sketchy event like this, and I also was afraid of getting turned down if I invited her.  So I didn't ask (but wish I would have) (except then I would have been even more nervous) (oh well).)

At any rate:  the evening turned out to be a thoroughly fine occasion.  My diary states: "Had an excellent crowd - probably 90 people, only about 75 chairs in the recital room - a good Moreau turnout even [I was living at Moreau that year]."   "[M]y Mozart was weak, Chopin good, Debussy excellent."  [So much for self-evaluation.  There were no diary comments on Kollar's performance, you can judge for yourself.]

Yeah, it also happened to be Kollar's 21st birthday.  Another reason to celebrate.

Apparently the fun continued for quite some time after the recital.  Reception was hosted by Isele (who was quite adept at hosting these things) - per diary, "had Coach-punch [I don't even want to know what the recipe might have been] and our 1/4 keg, sandwiches and good times . . . [Dave and I had] a Ho Jo [Howard Johnson's] breakfast with [Jim] Foster, [Nathan] Stone, Coach [Isele's then-nickname, apropos to ND] and John Hannan, emptied the keg at Grace [Hall - where Dave lived - I guess we lugged it back there, eluding the crack security guards?] and got to bed at 4:30, it was good."

As to the performance - I do remember very much enjoying performing - but also being very nervous about performing solo.  There were some quite-nice moments, and we weren't awful.  It was very helpful, and gratifying, to have a hugely supportive (if hand-picked) crowd. They got, at least, what they paid for!

Here's the ~60-second Isele composition that ended the performance in such zippity fashion ("F.L.C."):



The rest of the performance is also archived below (though I can hardly recommend listening to the whole thing - the bare recording can be somewhat un-enticing; I think you "had to be there" with the large crowd in a small room, soaking in the (let's say) "charming" non-music-major feel to the whole event, etc.)  I don't recall who made the recording - but I like having it even if the quality isn't so high.  I also include a copy of the concert program below. 

We did another recital in 1978 - it was an entertaining event in its own right - better venue, more varied audience, more duets (including a reprise of F.L.C.).  Will post that separately someday.

Performance clips (in order per the program below):

Hayden Sonata in C Major Allegro con brio (Kollar):


Hayden Sonata in C Major Adagio (Kollar):

Hayden Sonata in C Major Allegro (Kollar):
 Brahms Rhapsody in G Minor (Kollar):
Bartok - Bear Dance (Kollar):
Mozart Sonata in F Major K. 547A Allegro (Gales):
Mozart Sonata in F Major K. 547A Allegretto; Theme and Variations (Gales):
Chopin - Polonaise in C# Minor, Op. 26, No. 1 (Gales):
Debussy - Arabesque No. 1 (Gales):

Program:
1977 Recital - Crowley Recital Hall

one of my favorite birthday pictures

These days it's hard to believe we were comfortable taking five very young children, and an even younger puppy, for an overnight at Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.

But here we are in 1992 - a great way to celebrate my 36th birthday.  I always like the photo below - the iconic organ pipe cactus and - much more importantly - several of my very finest friends.  It was a great day.  Who wouldn't want to travel with folks like these?

L-R PSr, EPG, PJr, KHG, Kelly (March 14, 1992)

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Easter artifacts

My mom saves lots of stuff.

When we visited St. Joe in November 2010, she handed me the two items in the photo.

As you might be able to tell, one item is my childhood Easter basket - sure, the colors have faded a bit and a couple of the bands are breaking, but this is still a fine, serviceable basket after 50+ years. The absence of a handle is a feature, not a bug. I would be proud to load this with candy any Easter.

As to the faded yellow blob sitting in front of the basket - time hasn't been so kind. Believe it or not, this wreck once was the most charismatic Easter trinket in our house, hands down. His name was Chicky-go-gok-gok (the last two syllables rhyme with "clock") (gender not really known but we considered this to be a male). Now it looks more like a deformed, yellowed cotton ball than an Easter chick. I can't explain the severe deterioration. Sometimes these kinds of Easter basket stuffers were utilized when we played with our other toys, but still.

Anyway - it's fun getting these things from my mom. Happy Easter.

Unusual Thanksgiving (1983)

Thanksgiving 1983 was certainly one-of-a-kind for us.

PJ and I were living in Glenview, Illinois with Nicole, Chris, Kerry. Charlie & Beth were getting married in Pennsylvania on the Saturday after Thanksgiving; a crew from Iowa was heading east toward Pennsylvania in a motor home; we found a sitter for Kerry (Kerry Barnett, one of Carol's ND friends); and the four of us jumped in the motor home somewhere on the south side of Chicago. I'm guessing this was on Wednesday evening.

The trip - both directions of it - ended up being a wonderful experience (not to mention the fun at the wedding itself). One example of the good times: Thanksgiving dinner served while barreling eastbound on Interstate 80 (Clarence Bormann at the helm, EMG as co-pilot).

Top photo shows some feasters; below the photo is a scan of its reverse side, with Patricia's helpful recap of menu and subjects. Quite the clever planning by Caroline and my mom to have this organized for the road (along with all the other details involved in a trip like this).

Per usual, click photos to enlarge.

Second photo shows Caroline making coffee - in this vehicle and with our equipment, securing the coffeepot was a hands-on job.

Bottom photo - me and my brothers (with CPG) at breakfast the day of the wedding. I think Charlie was pretty excited about the whole thing.

Tailgate (1981)

Today we were receiving text updates from Nicole regarding what was billed as Charlie & Beth's last Notre Dame tailgate (this being Kristen's senior year, and her being scheduled to graduate on time).

Various notable attendees graced this last hurrah, including Steve & Liz, Steve & Cecilia, Nicole & POC, Sister Eugene, Romie & Joy, no doubt many others.

By the way, ND beat a lousy Pitt team to run its 2010 record to an uninspiring 2-3. But I still think the new coach (one Brian Kelly) inspires confidence. I'm hoping that feeling lasts longer than a similar feeling inspired by our old classmate, Charlie Weis, as delusionally discussed here.

We haven't had the good fortune to attend one of these C&B tailgate events, but I understand that they have grown increasingly sophisticated over the years.

Anyway, this recalls a fun tailgate experience with the House van back in October 1981, which we (with Nicole) did attend. The photos reveal a remarkably high degree of overlap among the attendees at the separated-by-29-years tailgates.

I recall beautiful weather and a fine time 29 years ago. The menu and cooking apparatuses (apparati?) do look a bit primitive in comparison to 2010, however.

Stanford/30 years

Hard to believe 30 years has passed since our brief stint (if it can even qualify for this) at Stanford.
I had decided to transfer for my last two years of law school. Stanford sounded like a fine place to be, though we also were reluctant to leave behind a good situation at Notre Dame (undergraduate years plus 1L).

Anyway my bride (of less than three months) and I hit the road in the '74 Olds 98 - an impressive gas hog even for those days, and we were definitively traveling in high style. Talk about a land yacht. (Though our style quotient took a big hit when the vinyl roof somehow literally blew off the top of the car while we were heading west across Nebraska. At that moment it sounded like the car was blowing up.) All in all, a very smooth outbound trip, and pretty leisurely. Overnights in Cheyenne and somewhere in NV (and maybe we stopped in Salt Lake City also for an overnight, I'm not remembering). Enjoyed listening to a "mystery theater" on the radio a couple times, enjoyed the western scenery (unusual to us in those days), etc.

Once at Stanford, we experienced some bumps. My normally high energy friend wasn't feeling like herself, at all. The housing situation was known to be a challenge, but looked quite a bit less promising than expected. At bottom, we probably were just not that committed to the enterprise - the main motivation, I think, had been my vague notion that it would be beneficial to experience a change of place from the school we had attended as undergrads. That didn't sustain us, and after just a few days we decided that I would finish up at ND law school after all.

That didn't seem like a problem; Fr. Mike McCafferty (NDLS professor) in particular had pretty recently told me that I was welcome to change my mind. But now it was a Friday on the Labor Day weekend and I couldn't reach anyone. Had already missed a week of class at ND. What to do? We just hit the road and hoped for (or assumed) the best.

Going cross-country twice in the space of a little over a week is a lot of driving, and Patricia wasn't much help. But she did sleep a lot in the car. The alternator failed late in the first day (somewhere in Nevada); we coped by pulling off I-80 and sleeping overnight in the desert. Then drove into Battle Mountain, NV where three good things happened: they found the part on a Labor Day weekend; we had a fabulous breakfast; and I reached McCafferty. He laughed about the slot machine noises zinging in the background in the pay phone area in the restaurant, and welcomed us back.

After that it was smooth sailing back to South Bend; we got settled (with an assist from my brother Charlie (ND undergrad), who initially seemed bewildered about our whereabouts when we called him one evening to let him know we were en route.

And a pregnancy test a couple weeks later explained why Patricia was feeling not-quite-herself. That would be Nicole.

Top photo: leaving the farm in Iowa on 8/25/80 (I guess we could have cycled when the car had trouble). Middle photo: PJ at the Great Salt Lake, 8/27/80. Bottom: checking out the roadside marker for the Emigrant Gap, CA, 8/28/80.

Family photo (1990)

Photo taken by Clarence Bormann 20 years ago today. Includes the seven of us (plus two of my cousins' kids in left foreground).

We have lots and lots of photos, but not all that many that include all seven of us.

Nicole is nine, Chris is eight, Kerry is seven, Patrick had just turned four, Paul Jr. a few days away from his third birthday.

We were just leaving Clarence & Caroline's home after a typically pleasant visit. I'm sure it involved card-playing plus food and beverage. The garden looks good.

Drinking Buddies (July 15, 1986)

This clip always makes me laugh. And is a window into how it so often felt in a house full of happy little kids.



This particular episode took place a couple weeks before Patrick was born. Evidence of that pending event is at 0:16, where PJ works on a Christmas stocking. Just about exactly 24 years ago.

We actually had developed a pretty good peach milk shake in those days, and it's evident that the customers were more than satisfied. Things were settling down until 0:24, when the bubbling noises intensify - sounds like an aquarium for awhile.

The three are sitting at the little-kid table in the kitchen-family room in our house on Cohansey Street in Roseville, Minnesota. Likely this was their last hurrah before being sent to bed. Nicole was 5, Chris 4, Kerry 3.

Happy stuff.

Ford pickup (St. Helena, California)

We spotted the pictured vehicle in St. Helena, California (northern end of Napa Valley) during our May trip. It sits outside a very interesting (plant) nursery - something of a complementary business to the Napa Valley wineries. The nursery came complete with live chickens, interesting plants, beautiful restaurant, wine tastings, etc.

The proprietor thought the vehicle was a 1948 model. It's an F-2.

This of course brought to mind the 1949 Ford pickup in which we traveled so often - one of the first vehicles I remember (along with a 1952 Dodge Meadowbrook, if I'm recalling the model of our then-family car correctly).

This was the vehicle EMG would come home in after a day of farming, so that was exciting. Sometimes we would meet him at the end of the lane, and ride in the back of the pickup down the lane. That might not fly under current "safety" notions (as CCG learned while sitting on the end-gate at start-up).

In our early forays into helping EMG with shelling or other farm work, this typically was the vehicle in which we traveled. SEG always by the window (seniority rules were quite strict; I was too young to realize who promulgated seniority rules, and why). This resulted in me experiencing a fair amount of knee-knocking as EMG operated the gear shift mechanism (just look at the position of the shift mechanism).


I'm always surprised at how simple and uncluttered these vehicles appear. I don't recall that our truck had an after-market turn signal (as this one does).

I don't recall when this pickup was phased out of regular use. I believe we started using station wagons (instead of a pickup) as the primary utility vehicle for the remainder of my ag service.

A Father's Day recollection

As I've posted various time on my basic website, I've always been highly pleased with my dad.

As kids, we never did know much about his cooking skills - did he know how? Two primary hypotheses: (1) he actually couldn't cook much of anything; or (2) he could, but wisely chose to let my mother handle the cooking.

On Father's Day 2010, I'm recalling his one specialty cooking item: popcorn. But not the low-rent microwave or hot-air-popper versions. Nor the popping method found in every dorm room in the 1970s (large plastic tub top (which served as the container) atop a nonstick heater/base). The far better memory is EMG preparing real popcorn in a skillet.



This involved a fair amount of theater, and we all found it highly entertaining. Waiting for the first kernel to blow up (at which point a chorus of "I got that one" ensued). Watching the skillet being banged on the burner. Munching on the popcorn (often, in the early days, in those white plastic bowls that I believe were a free item courtesy of Tang). Free advice that we could keep our hands clean if we just held the bowl up to our mouth (it works, depending on the shape of the bowl).

Anyway, included above is a 20-year-old clip that seeks to re-create the fun. Plenty of encouragement from the game-playing onlookers, decent cooperation from the subject of the short movie. Somewhat lacking in authenticity: no one yelled at the first pop (0:08).

Happy Father's Day.