The Babe knocked out cold

Today ballparks feature padded walls and a warning track to preserve the health of MLB players. In the 1920's . . not so much.

While playing against the Washington Senators in Griffith Stadium on July 5th, 1924, Yankees right fielder Babe Ruth went after a slicing foul ball off the bat of Joe Judge. Ruth didn't get the ball, but he did find the outfield's concrete wall. He was knocked unconscious and lay prone on the field for as much as five minutes (!) before being revived.



An interesting bit of trivia about that day: future Negro League legend and MLB Hall of Famer Buck Leonard was in the right field stands that day, cheering on Ruth. During his lifetime Ruth had a large African-American following, in part because of the (mistaken) rumour that he was part African himself.

This & That, and Quotes of the Day

A few days ago I wrote (on Facebook) about how our cat Angelcakes knocked over YaYa's Beta tank and ate her fish. Wrong. She knocked it over all right, but never got the fish. I found it today on the floor, tucked behind some shoes.

With YaYa at a friends house I tried to dispose of the evidence by feeding it to our turtle, but it backfired. Quoting YaYa upon her return: "Why is my fish floating in Franklin's tank?"

Oopsies. Finicky turtle.

* * * *

Lisa came into the living room, saw the Oregon-Arizona game on the television, and said "Is there anything we can both watch?"

"Sure," I said. "The Oregon-Arizona game."

I flinched and readied myself for the gunshot, but she just rolled her eyes and took up residence on the love seat with a book. About twenty minutes later Arizona scored. Lisa looked excited. "I didn't think they were going to convert on that down. They've got a good chance to win now, don't they?"

I smiled and gestured to YaYa, who was sitting next to her Mom.

"See, that's a skill, and I'm not being sarcastic," I said, with genuine admiration. "Your Mom has no interest whatsover in this game, and no idea what just happened, but she'll do her best to involve herself in the conversation and make you feel comfortable. That's a people skill, YaYa, one I don't have. I hope you're taking lessons."

YaYa smirked. "Are you kidding? I fake interest in what you say all the time."

* * * *

Smiley's latest obsession: Sizzlers. They're a pair of black magnets in the form of tapered cylinders about an inch long. They make a sizzling sound when tossed together.

* * * *

Lisa was on the phone with a friend when I heard her scold Smiley. "Go wipe your butt! You're stinky! Did you take a poop and not wipe your dupa?"

About five minutes later Smiley walked up in his underwear, turned his back to me and said " 'mell my butt"

"Smell your butt?" I said. "No, little man."

He grimaced and stomped his feet. "Momma say it steenky. 'mell my butt."

"You wiped?" I said. He nodded.

"Good enough for me. Off you go."

"No. 'mell my butt."

I was convinced he was sincere, and only wanted me to get him off the hook with Lisa. And then I saw a glint of Dannyesque mischief in his eyes.

"Are you just trying to get your Daddy to smell your butt so you can laugh about me?"

He started to giggle. "Yeessss!", then ran upstairs.

* * * *

Here's another shot from Chuck E Cheese last week. This is Lulu and the birthday girl Meadow.

ISO

Target friends, can you keep an eye out for zhu zhus? I still need the grey one and the white one, then all 4 kids will have one from Santa :) Would like the garage attachment too! Hope you've been getting them in. - Lisa

An Update, and news of my Mom

I've been neglecting this site lately, with nearly every post you've seen being yanked out of the "Scheduled" pile. I'll try to get some fresh material up shortly.

* * *

My Mom made it through surgery just fine on Wednesday. She gave the OK to explain what happened, so here goes: About two weeks ago she passed out in her bedroom after bleeding caused by what she euphemistically called "woman problems". I didn't learn of this until days later. Eventually, she went by ambulance to the hospital, where the docs said she'd lost much of her blood supply - as much as 2/3rds, from what I hear, but it seems like an incredible amount. She was still getting transfusions when I visited her days later.

On Wednesday she had a full hysterectomy and had part of her abdomen and glands (?) removed. She called me tonight with the biopsy results. It was, as they feared, uterine cancer. She claims that the doctor's said they 'got it all', but I'm much too superstitious to validate that claim in print.

I have a cold that's grown stronger over the last few days, so I've been unable to visit her. But I have to say, the phone call tonight scared the hell out of me. Not the content of the conversation, although that is frightening enough, but how she sounded.

Her voice so weak it was hard to hear what she had to say. When I could understand her it was clear she was in terrible pain. She blamed it all on being tired, but that was horseshit. I hope the next time we talk she sounds better, because this rattled me - it was all a bit harsher than what I'd anticipated.

Please, continue to hold her in your thoughts and prayers.

* * *

YaYa is at a friends house tonight, LuLu at Grandma's. We took advantage of the reduced population (and payday) to venture out for a fish fry at a restaurant we frequented in our pre-parenthood days. The food was so-so, but it was fun to dine out, and enjoyable to see Smiley and Ginger practice their table manners.

BTW, the day before yesterday we officially moved Ginger into a toddler bed. The kids were great about the whole thing, applauding her for being in a 'big girl bed', which greatly helped the transition.

* * *

I watched the Kansas-Memphis NCAA Basketball game the other night. It was great game, and while Kansas pulled it off they sure didn't look like a #1 ranked team to me, at least not that day.

* * * * *

Project Runway's finale was a preditible dissapointment, with Irina winning the competition with a solid, but stark and recycled collection. I think Carol Hannah put the best clothes down the runway, but she placed third. IMHO, a bland season, one that may go down as the year PR jumped the shark.

* * *

I wasted several hours on AMC's horrific 'reimagining' of The Prisoner. While the classic sci-fi/spy series continues to hold its own 40 years later, I thought the miniseries was a monstrosity. The "truth" of The Village was transparent and unoriginal, and it lacked all the wit and class of the original. 1.5 out of 4.

* * *

Lisa and I have taken to watching re-runs of the old Love Connection game show with Chuck Woolery.



It's a blast of nostalgia for us both, although I seem to have been a fan of the early years, while Lisa watched the tail end of the show's run. At times I find the concept emotionally awkward, like watching an accident in progress, but most times its a hoot. And those fashions! Time and again someone is announced as 26 or 31 and our jaws drop - they easily dress and appear ten years older!

Sk8er Boy Smiley

These are just some random shots, taken the day of his first school bus ride.

Shield of Time

Following the enjoyable Time Patrol I wrapped up Anderson's work on the subject by picking up Shield of Time from the local library.

Once again the story focuses on Manse Edwards, Unattached Time Patrol Agent and James Bond/Indiana Jones of the genre. The book is slightly awkward in format, reading like distinct novellas patched together into a [more-or-less] coherent whole, but let's boil it down to this: Wanda Temberly, a woman featured in an earlier story, finds herself violating the rules of the Patrol in her effort to aid a Pre-Colombian tribe. It turns out she has a distinct role to play in the future, as does Manse. Through other adventures the pair seek to restore history to its 'proper' lineage after chaos brings about the death of a minor king in medieval Italy.

The writing is a bit sexist, as Wanda goes around stammering whenever her emotions get the better of her, and whoa to anything more than a kiss between these two 'honorable' agents.

But forget all that. Shield of Time is a fun read, full of interesting facts, fine writing, and high adventure.

Recommended.

Read in 2008.

The Dante Club

I began reading this on the fourth of July, 2008, sitting in a gazebo staring out at a private lake up north. It's a wonderful memory.

Then I put the book down, despite enjoying the first few chapters, and didn't pick it up again until this year. Go figure.

The Dante Club tells the story of a group of men working on translating Dante's The Divine Comedy into English shortly after the end of the Civil War. Perhaps you've heard of some of the men in question - Henry Longfellow, Oliver Wendell Holmes, and James Lowell. It is, in effect, a club of literary giants.

A series of murders grip the city, each patterned after a punishment in Dante's work. As the pre-eminent Dante scholars in America, the group takes on the challenge of bringing the killer to justice, not just to stop the killings but to rescue the controversial work of Dante from being exiled from American soil. A noble goal, but one that just might bring them to the brink of death themselves.

It is a fine book, rich in historical detail and perhaps most impressively, it brings these poets to life as complicated, flesh-and-blood men with all the grace and failings that go with it.

I recommend this book to any fan of mystery, and/or history.

3.3 out of 4

RIP Beta

Angel (one of our cats) knocked over a fishtank last night and ate YaYa's Beta. Tears this morning, mitigated by her respect for Angel's prowess. We'll have to buy another soon.

Please Support this Lowly Writer

I have another column set to run tomorrow in the Journal-Sentinel (on the op-ed page). If you're in WI, please buy a copy and let me know what you think. Or buy a copy and keep your opinion to yourself. Either/or. :)

Surgery postponed - an update

As many of you know from Lisa's Facebook update, my Mom's surgery was postponed after a series of delays that knocked the surgery from noon, to three, to . . . possibly Monday.

So in the meantime, let's pretend all is normal.

* * * *

After we visited my Mom this morning I went to work. In the evening Lisa packed up all the kids and took them to Chuck E Cheese for an 8th birthday party for Meadow, a family friend that had slept over this weekend.

The party was fine, but that Chuck E Cheese has gone downhill. Metal detectors, security guards - and yet twice, TWICE in ninety minutes kids stole tickets and token cards from YaYa. They were recovered both times, but c'mon! As Lisa said "I held my purse close the whole time. Real close."

Here's a picture of LuLu and Ginger at the party:



Did I mention that Lu had those two bottom teeth pulled? She was terrified and asked to call me (I was at work), but she bounced back just fine.

* * *

A frightening development in my household Sunday: Ginger got out of the crib on her own. God help us all.

* * *

Report cards last week. LuLu did very well, and I have no complaints; YaYa did very well in some areas and awful in math. The math grade is unacceptable, and from now on she and I will sit down and re-do any problem she gets wrong on homework and tests.

* * *

For a week or two Ginger abandoned me and would cuddle and play only with Lisa; she seems incapable of showing affection for more than one person at a time. Saturday things swung back in my direction, and she ignored the Mrs. and doted on me. It's crazy how hurt I was by her rejection, and how happy I was when I was back in her favor.

A Request

Just about twelve hours from now my Mom will be going into surgery. I'm not free to explain what's going on, but yes, I'm a little worried. It's not as dire as heart surgery, but it isn't a tonsilectomy either.

Long story short, if you're inclined, please say a prayer on her behalf.

BTW - yesterday (Saturday) was my parent's 39th anniversary. May they celebrate many more.

YaYa meets Junie B.

One of the best gifts I ever got YaYa was a copy of Junie B Jones First Grader at Last! a book that seemed to kick start her love of reading to the nth degree.



Even before she could read on her own we'd all gather at night and Lisa would read the kids a chapter or two, with YaYa reciting the opening lines by memory:

My name is Junie B. Jones. The B stands for Beatrice. Except I don't like Beatrice. I just like B and that's all.

A few months back Lisa learned that Junie would be appearing at the Discovery World Museum here in Milwaukee. She took YaYa to meet her favorite characters.

Junie of course



but Lucille too.





They were part of the cast for a First Stage Children's Theater product of Junie B Jones that ran in late October - early November. Oddly enough, YaYa's class was scheduled to attend a performance of the play on her eighth birthday!

She asked Lisa to chaperone, and it was a great kickoff to YaYa's birthday weekend. :)

The Resort by Bentley Little

Bentley Little is a popular author of paperback horror novels, and I've seen his work on the shelves many times. I was never tempted to pick one up, but changed my mind for The Resort. The verdict? Not great, but good.

The Resort is just that, an upscale resort and spa slapped down in the middle of the southwest desert. Our family of protagonists lands a nice, off-season deal on a five day stay. What was intended as a dream vacation quickly goes haywire.

The resort is haunted, brutally controlled by a malevalent spirit that forces the guests into participating in bloody sporting matches, horrific BSDM performances, and the like.

It's kind of like The Shining, had Stephen King had decided to tint his hotel with a sadistic sexual obsession.

That's not to say I didn't like the book. By and large it was a good read and quite enjoyable, especially the first third as the terror began to build. I didn't like the ending, which was quick and forced and altogether a bummer.

I'm not sure I'll read more of Little's books, but I don't regret grabbing this one.

2.4 out of 4.

Smiley's Trip to the Pumpkin Farm 10/20/09

Lisa volunteered to chaperone Smiley's trip to the pumpkin farm on her birthday. Not the ideal way to mark the day, I'm sure, but he loved the trip, and loved that she went along.







They fed goats . . .









Went on a hayride . . .





This is Mrs. Heidi, Smiley's teacher/first love . . .



There are 36 or 37 kids in Smiley's class. Yes, that's right: 36 or 37. Imagine the cost of his monthly snack day!







They also got lost in a corn maze and saw a puppet show . . .





In short - they had a blast!

An Impressive Innovation

Ford Motor Company is bringing to market the world's first automotive inflatable seat belts, combining attributes of traditional seat belts and air bags.

Ha

Lisa: I'm giving you plenty of warning. Someday, somehow, this is what our front door will look like.

Do Better Man

A WTF complaint: Smooth Jazz 106.9 just posted this on FB: "Alicia Keys talks about her HIV/AIDS" and then, in a smaller font, continues w/  "Foundation" on the next line. So if u aren't paying attention . . .  Damn near gave me a heart attack.

Harold Leroy Fiste and the Trigger Maru: A Veteran's Day Post

To all our service men and women, past and present, Thank You.

* * * *

Coming from a pretty big Polish family, with Great Uncles galore, I grew up around WWII stories. Uncle Leo was at Pearl Harbor during the Japanese attack, his brother Chester served in the Army Air Corps, another brother (Johnny) served throughout the Pacific in the Merchant Marines, and my Grandpa trudged through Europe as part of an anti-aircraft crew. The husband of my grandma's best friend lost an eye to the Japanese, and on my Dad's side my Uncle Stanley wrote of a tense meeting with Soviet troops in Korea as the war closed.

Rarely discussed was the sad fate of my paternal Great Aunt Vicki's husband, Chief Electrician's Mate Harold Leroy Fiste (02796181).



Harold was born in Alpha, Ohio on November 26, 1915 but called Milwaukee home. In his service career he'd earn a Bronze Star and a Purple Heart. He'd also lose his life along with the rest of the crew of the U.S.S. Trigger.



The Trigger (SS - 237) was a Gato class submarine that earned a fearsome reputation during WWII. That isn't hyperbole. Postwar counts credited her with sinking 18 Japanese ships totaling 86,552 tons, both good for seventh best on the naval list. She was awarded eleven battle stars and a Presidential Unit citation during the war. The text of the latter read as follows:

For outstanding performance in combat during her Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh War Patrols against the enemy. Employing highly daring and hazardous tactics, the USS TRIGGER struck at the enemy with consistent aggressiveness, seeking out and pursuing her targets with dogged determination regardless of unfavorable attack conditions. Her exceptionally notable record of severe damage inflicted on hostile shipping and the gallant fighting spirit of her officers and men reflect great credit upon the United States Naval Service.

Note also the glowing praise in a Navy Citation:

For outstanding heroism in action against enemy Japanese shipping and combatant units during her Ninth War Patrol in the Palau Islands area from March 23 to May 20, 1944. Undaunted by numerous enemy escort vessels and desperately severe anti-submarine measures, the USS TRIGGER skillfully penetrated convoy screens to reach her targets... She pressed home daring attacks to leave four freighters and a destroyer a mass of smoke and wreckage... After seventeen hours of skillful evasion, to resurface and strike again at the enemy...

While on her 12th combat patrol in March of 1945, Trigger attacked and sank the repair ship Odate on the 27th. That final success went unknown until after the war; the sub never had the opportunity to report the strike. Within a day Japanese aircraft had spotted and attacked the sub east of Kyusyu, Japan in approx. position 32º16'N, 132º05'E, then guided no less than three Japanese ships to its location.

After an intensive two hour attack from air forces, the Mikura, and corvettes Kaibokan No.33 and Kaibokan No.59, the Japanese reported seeing a large oil slick form.

In the area, four U.S. subs would note the sound of heavy battle, but no knowledge of the Trigger and her fate would be known until she failed to report to Midway by May 1st; she was stricken from the naval register on July 11th, and her probable destruction not confirmed until postwar records were examined.



My Great Aunt would never remarry.

For Harold Leroy Fiste, and all those who have given their lives for our nation and our freedom THANK YOU.

* * *

I'm the Galloping Ghost of the Japanese Coast
by Constantine Guinness, Motor Machinist's Mate First Class (MOMM 1/c), United States Navy

I'm the galloping ghost of the Japanese coast.
You don't hear of me and my crew
But just ask any man off the coast of Japan.
If he knows of the Trigger Maru.

I look sleek and slender alongside my tender.
With others like me at my side,
But we'll tell you a story of battle and glory,
As enemy waters we ride.

I've been stuck on a rock, felt the depth charge's shock,
Been north to a place called Attu,
and I've sunk me two freighters atop the equator
Hot work, but the sea was cold blue.

I've cruised close inshore and carried the war
to the Empire Island Honshū,
While they wire Yokahama I could see Fujiyama,
So I stayed, to admire the view.

When we rigged to run silently, deeply I dived,
And within me the heat was terrific.
My men pouring sweat, silent and yet
Cursed me and the whole damned Pacific.

Then destroyers came sounding and depth charges pounding
My submarine crew took the test.
Far in that far off land there are no friends on hand,
To answer a call of distress.

I was blasted and shaken (some damage I be taken),
my hull bleeds and pipe lines do, too
I've come in from out there for machinery repair,
And a rest for me and my crew.

I got by on cool nerve and in silence I served,
Though I took some hard knocks in return,
One propeller shaft sprung and my battery's done,
But the enemy ships I saw burn.

I'm the galloping ghost of the Japanese coast,
You don't hear of me and my crew.
But just ask any man off the coast of Japan,
If he knows of the Trigger Maru.

Pumpkin Carving

Well, since they're rotting on my porch as we speak, I reckon it's about time to post pictures of our pumpkin carving, circa 2009. Note our lovely, original-to-the-house 1892 farm sink in the first photo.









The best part of this business are the seeds of course, and Lisa has perfected the preparation process. Something about salting the water before boiling, I think . . .









Smiley's pumpkin . . .





Here's YaYa's Club Penguin entry . . .





And LuLu's moon and stars . . .