Currahee!

Rating:	★★★★
Category:	Books
Genre:	History
Author:	Donald R. Burgett

I’m going to do a quick review of “Currahee!” but it is actually a review of the series. The books were written by Donald R. Burgett. The series also includes “The Road to Arnhem”, “Seven Roads to Hell”, and “Beyond the Rhine”. The unit that Mr. Burgett was a member of was the 101st Airborn which is the same unit as Band of Brothers’ fame and mirrors the experiences in that book.
First, my impressions of the books themselves was that this could have easily been made into one book instead of 4 separate books. I think that was a market decision to obtain more money from the customers.
Mr. Burgett didn’t hold any punches. He was very matter of fact in his narrative. If he liked something, he stated and if he didn’t, likewise. Some of the circumstances were harrowing, and I guess when you have people trying to kill you while you are trying to kill them, it can lead to those kind of experiences. Some of the items that I found interesting are as follows.
In Market Garden, they were stationed at a house that was 1 foot underwater and for 24 hours, standing in that water looking for the Germans on the other side of the river. Also, what was pronounced was that he had to live on English rations, which were far from enjoyable.
The Bastogne book demonstrated how desperate the fighting was. Taking station in cold frozen foxholes with dense fog, fighting Tiger tanks to marching through snow covered fields and being ambushed by a German squad and shooting them at very, very close range. The most profound was probably when they were withdrawing and taking station in the trees and realizing that they were dug in right in the middle of germans doing the exact same thing.
The drive through southern Germany and liberating the concentration camp so near Landsberg Prison as well as rolling through Berchtesgarden on through Austria. The most jawdropping was their assault on a surrendered german officer for his racial rants and subsequent discovery of a train loaded with gold bars.
It was a very good book, very simply written by a man who didn’t have anything to hide. You can’t read American World War Two history without reading these books.

Double Date

On a recent “double-date” with good friends, I noticed a woman seated in the back corner. She had a black blouse with tattered sleeves. She had make up but not overtly so. She was texting away on her phone, no idea to whom. It made me think of my dating days, and how I would handle things differently if I did it today.  I was a nothing more than a dumb guy dating. I was miserly in my compliments and awkward in my demeanor.  I never have overcome the awkwardness, unfortunately. While I was watching, her date, I assume, returned to her table, she looked up with a smile that wasn’t faked or forced. I wondered if the man realized how she appeared to be happy at his return. Did he appreciate the time she took to look nice for him? From his dress, he didn’t seem to have taken much time in his appearance, being dressed in jeans and T-shirt. 

I looked at my wife and rejoined the conversation with our friends and once again had that surge of emotion that this woman has given up her life to be with me, and wondered if I am vocal enough with her, telling her how much she means to me? The evening, early as it was (I’m hoping it isn’t the onset of geriatric time) was soon over and we all entered the car for our trip home to our children. I leaned over to Tracy and told her how beautiful she was, that I enjoyed being with her. We have had few opportunities in the past decade for any kind of dating with each other, and I truly enjoy my time with her. I hope that now our children are getting older, with our careers firmly established, we can restart our courtship… Hopefully, she’ll still like me after all these hectic years.

Ten Items or Less

Rating:	★★★
Category:	Movies
Genre:	Comedy

This movie starred Morgan Freeman, which is the sole reason I rented it. It tracks the day of an actor researching a role and how he connects with a supermarket clerk. Now, if you're going to connect with a supermarket clerk, make sure she is a good looking one. It really isn't all that insightful, at least I didn't feel that it was, but it did make me think about what it means to just fall into someone's life and have a really good time. I know that might be the essence of friendship, but this was done in the span of a day. I sometimes wish I was that spontaneous, and perhaps one day I will be.

This is a good flick. It wasn't a long movie, but it made its point. It still isn't "500 Days of Summer", but it is a good "relationship" movie.

Flowers for Algernon

Rating:	★★★★
Category:	Books
Genre:	Science Fiction & Fantasy
Author:	Daniel Keyes

I’m somewhat of a packrat with some items. Not many, but a few. I’d list them but it might cause concern and psychoanalysis would then ensue. One of the things that I’ve collected are some science fiction magazines. I subscribed to them in the mid 1990’s and never got around to reading them. The mid 90’s were a busy time. Tracy and I worked on our master’s programs and adoptions and, well, life sometimes got in the way of my reading pleasure. So, I have a shelf in the basement with unread science fiction magazines. I’ve since unsubscribed and when I do finish a mag, I do get rid of it. Well, I’m on May 2000 now and my “new” copy of Fantasy and Science Fiction offered a reprint of “Flowers for Algernon”.

Considering that the story is now over 53 years old and one of the most widely read sf stories, why it has taken this long for me to read it is something of a mystery. Now, this is the short story version, the one that won all the awards, and the one that F&SFM printed so many years ago. It is rather hard to find and so they reprinted it to re-acquaint readers with the story. It also included a few chapters of the author’s (Daniel Keyes) story on what went into the story. I actually found that very interesting.

To summarize the story, the protagonist, Charlie, had a low IQ and was a test subject for a medicine that would increase his intelligence. Several previous studies were also performed on mice, one of which was named Algernon. Charlie’s increase in intelligence is chronicled by himself and it reflects how society and individuals deal with people at different levels. It also mentions his frustration and his loves throughout the period. In an eventual decline, the story ends with a very poignant line, one which took me by surprise in the reaction I had. I quote, “P.P.S. Please if you get a chanse put some flowrs on Algernons grave in the back yard...”

The creation story was almost as interesting as the story itself. This man struggled to find the right way to present his story, taking different angles and viewpoints until he settled on a narrative. He patterned Charlie after a student he had when he was working as a substitute teacher. He presented one of his employers, Stan Lee, with a version and he also worked on a few of the pulp magazines of the time. This guy probably had more to do with the stories that I love so much than I ever realized. The sleepless nights when he worked on this story also struck home to me. I know that creative process but instead of fiction, I work with algorithms. I now feel a little bit closer to those who agonize trying to get the perfect work published and recognized.

It is a very, very good story, well deserving of all the praise that it has received.

Motorcycle

Yes, if you didn’t know, I bought a motorcycle. My desires for a motorcycle go way back, but it was heightened by a recent trip to Utah. I had planned on taking a few roads that I’ve never been on, mostly fireroads, but I had read about a few that I really wanted to take. One was the Cottonwood Canyon Road, which turned out to be closed, and the other was Hell’s Backbone. This road was unique in that it was the first road into Boulder and the bridge was around 8000ft with sheer cliffs on either side. Going up, the road turned spongy, as it was a very wet spring, and as I turned around one switchback, a 4ft boulder was blocking the road. I squeezed by that rock and mumbled how I would have never had that problem on a bike.  After conquering that road, I took another road that I had taken a previous trip and on the downside of that, I was shifting down thinking that if I die would just be because the darn car weighs so much that I couldn’t stop in the mud. I took other roads too which I probably shouldn’t have, but that is the way it goes. The point was, I wasn’t having nearly as much fun as I should be having just because I was in a car.

I’m not sure the exact day I had the thought to finally get the thing. I remember coming up to Tracy and saying, “I’m gonna have a mid-life crisis, and it involves a motorcycle.” To my shock and amazement, Tracy said yes. So, I had asked some people at work about a nice bike to have, one that could spend most of the time on the road, but one that I could take on dirt and fire roads as well. I was suggested that a Suzuki V-Strom would fit the bill. I looked at one at a local dealership and it was a longer bike than I was expecting, but the clearance was higher and the engine was something I thought I could handle. Done. I debated on it for a few days and sleepless nights and decided to do the deed. I bought the bike after letting the family look at it and they gave their approval. They delivered it that evening.

So there it sits in the garage. Not doing much at all. The next day I looked at the Motorcycle Safety Foundation’s site and found a number to call about their classes. One of my promises was to take a class before I hit the road and before I had my license. There were two more classes remaining and if I cared to walk-on, I could at least try. So that Friday night, I walked into the class, and sure enough, I got in. One of the advantages of buying so late in the season was a good deal on the bike and being able to take the class that most have to wait months for. The class occupied my entire weekend, one that featured birthday parties and assorted appointments and also a talk by my wife in church. I had to miss all of that. The good part is that I passed the class with a perfect score outside of a downshift that didn’t happen. I put my foot down on the machine, but it had a lot of shifting issues those two days.

My real reason for writing this was to let you know about my apprehension on this purchase. You see, being a motorcyclist, like being a bicyclist, means you are part of a group, with their own clothing, language and other cultural byproducts. I usually don’t want to partake. I want to wear normal shorts when I bike. I don’t want to become part of that sub-culture. I don’t want to talk about my bike or talk about the options or whatall. I just use things for transport and for this, just to enjoy it. So during the first night I met my instructors. One was a grizzled old gentleman who had some scars from biking that he didn’t mind sharing. The other instructor was a middle/youngish woman who had her arm in a sling and also had difficulty walking. She had a motorcycle accident two weeks previous when the power-steering on her bike (uh huh, power steering) and she slammed into the guardrail at 65 MPH. Great. I’m gonna die on this thing. What the heck am I thinking?

The next morning, we were on the grid and the helper came riding a motorcycle and she was wearing chaps. Now, I had to stifle any thoughts I had about “buttless” chap jokes that I had swimming around my head. I realize they serve a very good purpose, but again I thought about being part of this culture and all the stuff I had to deal with there.

Anyways, I will soon have my certificate, which will allow me to get my M-class on my driver’s license. Then I’ll be legal. Well, after I get insurance…gear…nerve…

I hope I don’t kill myself on this thing.

A Beautiful Weekend

I’m taking some time once again to let others view our sad and weary lives. There were some highlights this past week, to be sure, but mostly another disappointment in trying to find some rest and relaxation.

A few weeks ago, we decided to take a few days off and finally do some family camping this year. This year has been abnormally cold and wet, even when I took my trip to Utah it was so cold and wet that I couldn’t do what I wanted to do there. I figured that sometime it would clear up and I was getting pretty sick and tired of being stuck at home and inside. It would make for a busy week, but I was so anxious for change that I didn’t care.

Monday was the first sign that it was going to be a challenge. Tracy had tickets for Peter Gabriel at the United Center and I was to stay home with the kids. It had become more of an effort to find someone to babysit than it was worth so there ya go. I had made dinner for everyone and was actually surprised that they were eating it. You see, the two younger boys don’t seem to want to eat anything other than chips and ….well, nothing else. They were actually eating the sandwiches I made! I know, it isn’t that original and kind of a cop-out but these kids don’t want anything of a culinary challenge, so why go through the bother. It wasn’t too long before Madsen decided to throw up all over floor. Luckily, it was on the hardwood and not the carpet so clean up was easy, but Madsen was pretty out of it for the night. He had to make a few runs to the bathroom as the night wore on. One thing that struck me was how much the last 10 years had suppressed my gag reflex. There was a time when I would be losing it along with the kids, but that doesn’t happen much anymore. I just looked at Madsen while he was losing it with the parental rush of trying to comfort him and thoughts about how I was going to clean it up and what I needed for that task. Tracy and I, as we often do, were trading IMs and coping with all it takes for us to be parents in these times away from each other. The rest of the evening was uneventful for me, but that was the calm before the storm.

My next few days I was in pre-vacation mode at work. That usually means that I don’t change that much in my programs or code, as I’ll be unavailable to fix it. Mentally, I was already off. Like I said, I didn’t have much rest and relaxation during my Utah trip and I was really looking forward to spending some time in the woods. I always am a bit hesitant on these trips because I know the kind of pressure this puts on Tracy as the kids are relentless on her attention. She usually has to do much of the packing and planning and the work she does while we are out and about always amazes me. I never take her for granted in times like these and I try to read her moods and frustrations so I can do something to ease them. The children make camping a completely different experience for her from what she experienced when she was a kid and when we camped extensively when we were in college. I wish I could make it more enjoyable for her and about the best I can do is keep the children away from her so she can get a bit of a rest.

I was also keeping an eagle eye on the forecast. The early forecast showed a partly sunny day on Thursday and sunny the rest of the weekend. Perfect. Temps in the mid 70s. The reservations were made, right next to the lake. Should be a good opportunity for playing with the kids and all manner of foolishness. We didn’t need to be out the door early Thursday and we were going to give John a good chance for work on the bathroom without constant interference.

Thursday early morning began the disaster that this camping trip was to become. Bennet decided that he was going to be sick all that morning, and throwing up was to be his mode of demonstration. Tracy handled it with all the patience that I could ever expect. Motherhood is amazing to me. I honestly don’t know how they do it, all the demands made upon them. Almost a full decade without a full night’s sleep would have made me madder than a hatter. Even as the morning progressed and Bennet was visibly better, it didn’t get any better for me. I started feeling uncomfortably sore as if I was also sick. I wasn’t nauseous like the kids have experienced, but it wasn’t a good feeling. We packed up our gear and left to go to Rochelle first to watch a few trains. I also wanted to go along Illinois 64 to see what kind of terrain the bike path I wanted to take with Hayden looked like. I was uncomfortable the entire way. I had taken medication to see if it would stave off whatever I was experiencing with little success. The forecast also was glaringly wrong. It was cold with a constant mist. I was so desperate for a week away I was willing to tolerate it though. Upon arrival at the train park, the kids went off to play on some equipment and I got the chance to stretch out and try to take care of my drowsiness. I did get to see a few trains and I did feel better after some rest.

We found our campsite at Rock Cut with little to no issues. I still wasn’t feeling up to par but we got the tent up. Madsen was filled with energy as usual and was trying my patience also, as usual. He is told something and it seems he immediately forgets it. The kids were also tracking mud into the tent which then drove Tracy nuts. Certain levels of common sense aren’t all that common right now.

So, in our rush to get out of town, we didn’t have a whole lot in terms of supplies. We drove out of the park and were surprised with the number of stores. We searched for a grocery store...none. We stopped at a Target. Above the door there were pictures of food and we joked that that didn’t necessarily mean that there was actually food for sale there...and there wasn’t! We drove around for several more miles and were not greeted with any more opportunities to buy food. Considering how many grocery stores surround us at home, I was rather shocked at the lack here. We did find an Aldi and bought some food. So okay, we need to plan better when it comes to assuming that a town of several tens of thousands of people has grocery stores.

So here we are. We now have food and the kids are getting a very quick and harsh lesson on how to act in a campground. And it is raining. I wish I could muster up some disappointment but I’m feeling so bad all I want to do is lay down and go to sleep. Tracy knows that I’m not feeling well so she pretty much leaves me alone, but the kids...oh, the kids. They are constantly whimpering and complaining on how the have to go to the bathroom (pit toilets, the horror!) and get a drink and non stop complaining. If I wasn’t so darn tired I’d do my own discipline with them, as I was highly annoyed. How Tracy handles it, again, without losing her mind I just don’t know. For example, it is wet outside so we tell the kids that they can’t go into the tent without taking their shoes off. It only takes us about 20 times to drill that into their heads. One one of the many trips to the bathroom, Madsen puts his shoes on inside the tent, which crossed our own limits of patience but then goes on to step on Tracy’s and Bennet's pillows!.....Anyway, Madsen begins to complain about a sore stomach and all I think is that he is once again suffering for attention. Ellie then begins to complain and before much else happens...”I think I’m going to throw up. That gets all our attention. Tracy fumbles at the door and manages to get her out of the tent before she purges all of the day’s food and drink. Barely out of the tent, mind you, right in front of it. So now we have the chaos of a sick child emptying her stomach at the door of the tent, the rain falling and the small, backup son complaining about his sad life. We take into consideration that I’m also not feeling well and the forecast changing to be cold and wet for the next day and decide that it just isn’t worth it. We fire up the lantern and pack up. While we are doing a crude job of folding the tent, Madsen loses his battle with his stomach in the car. He tried to catch everything he could in the towel but it didn’t do the complete job. We just weren’t prepared for all the vomit that struck us that night. It was a quiet drive home.

I didn’t feel good the next day either. We set up the tent and took a hose to it and I spent most of the afternoon and evening in the bathroom. It was a beautiful and wonderful few days off.

Come Saturday we prepared to head up to Oshkosh for Nathaniel’s and Mandy’s reception. We had to think about what might come our way considering what has happened previously in the week. Still, it was Nathaniel. We had to go. So we went up and had a good time. I was the only one that went up in shorts planning to change there. When I came back, Carrie looked at me and said “You clean up real nice.”  “Yep, but I can’t seem to convince Tracy about that.” I responded sarcastically.

Trying to control the kids in our pastime. I took several trips outside to hunt for bugs with Bennet to keep him occupied. When the time came for the throwing of the bouquet, we made Ellie get into the group as she was “single”. She really didn’t know what to do about that. I whispered to Carrie that if Ellie actually did catch the bouquet, there would be some ticked off girls there. During the dance, Becca danced with Bennet and Bennet just loved it. Layne mentioned that he didn’t know what to do with all the left overs. If I had felt better, I would have eaten more, but I didn’t and I’m trying not to eat so much anyway. Other than that, it was a good time. The crab/pasta salad was terrific. I hope Nathaniel and Mandy have an exceptionally good life together.

Sunday I didn’t do much. I stayed home with Ellie and Bennet while Tracy went to church. About three pm I had about had it and I told Ellie to get ready for a bike ride. We rode down McDonald to the bike path, across to Randall and south to the forest preserve. Ellie mentioned once that she was “bored” but as she was getting into the car to ride back with Tracy, she gave me a hug so I know that even if she was bored, she enjoyed the trip. Tracy mentioned that she talked all about it on the ride back. She had fun.

Great weekend, huh? I don’t want many more like it.

Happy Father's Day

This is my second draft on this particular post. The actual experience of Father’s Day changed my story quite a bit.

I was going to have a nice pseudo three day weekend. I was going to work at home on Friday and then camp out with the kids for the weekend, just good father’s day stuff. It didn’t work out that way. A routine generator test on Thursday at work turned out to not be that routine. The Uninterrupted Power Supplies (UPS), that cover power to our servers if a power outage hits and before the generators kick in, decided to break. Thursday afternoon turned into a struggle to find out all the servers that were down and my Oracle RAC cluster decided to not work any longer. Those might help the user but are no end of trouble for administrators. I finally left work at about 6pm, which isn’t that bad for other mere mortals, but that makes about 12 hours for me. I woke up on Friday with an email that all work at home was cancelled and that everyone had to come in. That turned into another 12 hour day. They decided to have several people do shifts to cover for any power outage. The theory was that many servers wouldn’t come back after a power outage and someone needed to call the team as well as start all the services up again. I “volunteered” for the 4am-10am shift since I am usually up then anyway. While I wasn’t expected to “work”, but just be there, it was uneventful but not all that fun. The rest of Saturday was uneventful. Tracy went and spent the day with Madsen and I did wrangle a cheap breakfast at Ikea with the family before we went our different ways. The rest of the day I spent trying to recover some of my lost sleep and do laundry. Tracy did come home at about 6 and I was able to spend the rest of the evening with her.

Sunday morning was another horrible morning. I woke up at two and wasn’t able to get back to sleep until around 6. Bennet had wormed his way into the bed by then and he seemed to be concentrating on kicking and scratching me the rest of the morning. When I finally did fall asleep, I just had a nightmare about losing Bennet at a parade. I figured that it was some sort of divine lesson to learn to appreciate the child that was scratching and kicking me.

I spent the next few hours getting ready for church feeling nothing be sorry for myself. I didn’t want to be awake, I didn’t want to wear these clothes, I didn’t want to go to church, I didn’t want to deal with any other living being. I admit I was feeling very selfish. I knock myself out at work and this was “Father’s Day”. I’m not one for holidays but this fit into my mood. I didn’t want to deal with anything. My day, let me use it the way I want to.

Then I thought about Tracy. Yes, I was being selfish but this woman had given up the last ten years of her life for these kids. She has to deal with my whining and the endless demands of these children. Over the past 10 years, she has had 4 small humans invade her life. She almost died with one of them. Both of her parents have died in the past decade. She had nursed her mother to health, moved her to Illinois and let her be there for the birth of her last grandchild. She didn’t want to deal with these situations any more than I did but she still does it. Who am I to be in such a state? What do I have to complain about?

No, Father’s Day didn’t work out the way I wanted it to. Tracy spent the day painting and fixing dinner. I folded clothes and had my daughter bake me cookies (yet another thing that Tracy really did but it gave Ellie something to do for me). I biked with the kids to the corner and rented a redbox movie. That was pretty much the extent of what I did. It wasn’t what I wanted to do for the day, but my life isn’t about me, is it? I might not do much, but I am there for them.

Happy Father’s Day.