AUG 2, 18 .. AUGUST 2nd 1958 .. SIXTY YEARS AGO TODAY ..

Thank You Simon ..

It was you Simon ..

Who ‘coined for me’ ..

The saying ..

“Wandering the Streets of My Mind.”

Patti and I, along with ‘countless’ other friends, wonder where you are, how you are doing, and wish you well Simon.

See, THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS, when I sit down here at the keyboard and actually begin to compose a Post. I do not have a ‘clue in a carload’ where we are going to proceed to.

Oh Yes. Yes Indeed, I certainly had a plan of what I am going to write about, but I had NOT planned on the above photos of Simon. Simon is pronounced as Sea Moan rhymes with cyclone. It is NOT Simon as in Simple Simon was a Pie Man.

So we will begin again.

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AUG 2, 18 .. AUGUST 2nd 1958 .. SIXTY YEARS AGO TODAY ..

I will never ever, until I die, or until I lose my memory, forget this date-in-my-history.

August 2nd 1958 was a Saturday. I was in Westfield, New York, and at (somewhere around) 2 p.m. Beverly Joan Bowers (Bev) and I were married. I was a young, enlisted member of the U.S. Marine Corps, out on boot camp home leave.

I’d met Bev in the summer of 1957 where we two were working at the Grand Hotel, on Mackinac Island, Michigan. Love at first sight. I looked into her eyes, thought to myself, “This is who I am going to marry.” To some extent, that-was-that. We two had exactly, precisely, one single date, during our 2-3 months on the island. In August 1957, I left the island to return to the University of Michigan. On January 29th, 1958, I enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps and shipped off to San Diego and MCRD (Marine Corps Recruit Depot).

I got sick (pneumonia) during bootcamp and, during the full month of April 1958, I experienced a month-long stay in the U.S. Naval Hospital, Balboa Park, San Diego, California. Lying in the hospital, alone, one day soon, my life was to change. I received a letter that Bev had mailed to me in January in care of at my fraternity house at Michigan.

Fraternity Brothers, being Fraternity Brothers, did not forward the January letter to me until April.

So? Bev and I began a letter-a-day (I kid you not, what else did I have to do in the hospital) correspondence.

Back to boot camp I went. I finished boot camp in July 1958. I wrote Bev I’d be coming back to Michigan on boot camp leave.

Bev (totally unbeknownst to her parents) got to Detroit the day before my arrival. She was going to wait all night to meet me when I arrived. Somehow, word of this madness got to her folks (who were unaware of who I was) who called my parents who went to Detroit Metro to ‘fetch’ Bev so she did not have to stay-the-night at Detroit Metro.

A week later, while we two were visiting Mackinac Island, and the Grand Hotel, on the lawn there, I asked Bev to marry me. We did just that, on August 2nd, 1958.

We had a great life together. Son Robb was born in 1959 at Tripler Army Hospital, Honolulu, Hawaii, while I was stationed at Kanohe Marine Corps Air Station. Son David was born in 1962 in Detroit, Michigan, where I was getting my Civil Engineering Degree at Wayne State University.

In February 1975, our son David was struck by an automobile while on his way to school in Frankfurt, West Germany. He lived, but two major operations, 8-months apart, and the stress therefrom, sowed the seeds for our divorce in 1979.

So?

There-you-have-it. Some mind wanderings that August 2, 2018, brought into my consciousness. Perhaps some history for my two sons to muse over. We did some court-ordered professional counseling to no avail. The final breakup of our marriage was beyond, and worse than, merely being brutal.

In January 2008, Bev fell in her home in Florida, hit her head, and passed away.

No one, not a single one of us, is getting out of this life without nicks and bruises and cuts and scars. This life Ain’t-A-Free-Ride for anyone.

My friend and buddy and professional associate ‘Zilla, was witness to the breakup and chaos that lasted 3-years while I continued to work in West Germany.

‘Zilla, Thanks for your undying and continuous support during those horrific 3-years.

Robb and David, your mother and I were ‘meant to be together’ for life. Our marriage was not a mistake.

Love Dad


JUL 30, 18 .. OH CAPTAIN .. MORE WEIRDNESS FROM YOU CAPTAIN! .. WAS IST LOS?

We all know of Godzilla or ‘Zilla as I call him here on dot.net. Well ‘Zilla has a wife who was born / raised / reared in Germany and who has a business here in the U.S. translating from English into German and German into English.

‘Zilla is Großer Bär and his lady is Kleiner Bär.

The below information has been cleared with / approved by Kleiner bär.

In the above title, at the end, I use the following three German words ..

Was ist los?

These three words form a ‘phrase’ used in German to mean ‘What’s happening?’ It also can mean ‘What is the matter?’ .. ‘What’s wrong?’ .. ‘What’s up?’

As in .. “Was ist los?”

The below link to Google Translate will give you more information.

https://www.google.com/search?q=was+ist+los+translation&rlz=1C1EKKP_enUS712US712&oq=WAS+IST+LOS&aqs=chrome.2.0l6.4773j1j7&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8

In German the ‘ W ‘ sounds out as a ‘ V ‘ .. Was in German sounds out as Vas  ..

As long as we are at it .. In German the V sounds out as Fow.

So the VW (Volkswagen auto) .. In German .. Sounds as Fow Vay.

The German ‘ V ‘ does double duty as it can also sound out as an F.

Volkswagen pronounces as Folkswagen.

IF you are stuck on the road in Germany you’d better be able to say ..

“Meine Fow Vay, meine Folkswagen, ist kaputz.”

To further confuse you, occasionally the V sounds out like a V (like in the town of Verden).

The BMW (Motorcycle / Auto) sounds out .. Bay M Vay ..

Onward here on this Delete-Before-Reading Post.

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Reading .. “The Obituaries.”

“Is this all a part of the getting-old, is this part of the aging-process? Reading the Obits. Gad-zooks.”

The below Obit (quoted only in part) really touched Patti (who shared it with me) and myself .. To keep it anonymous, I am only going to use the gentleman’s first name.

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IN MEMORY

Dec 2, 1960 – June 23, 2018

Andrew born Dec 2, 1960, in Prairie Village, Kansas, suffered a fall and a fatal head injury on Saturday, June 23, 2018.

Andy’s curiosity and grace never diminished. He greeted each day with unabashed joy, such enthusiasm as could only be expressed trumpeting at 6 a.m. in nothing but a peshtemal (Peshtemal – a Turkish Towel used in Turkish Baths). His passionate exploration of music and incurable desire to share with others led him to take on a hopeful violin student named Maria. Although she ditched the fiddle, she kept the fiddler, and the two wed August 13, 2011, on his fishing boat in Bristol Bay.

From Kansas to Alaska, Ghana to Laos, Turkey to Uzbekistan, and finally to Virginia, friends all over the world know how Andy’s mischievous grin would erupt into neck-breaking guffaws of delight. Our Andy never met a stranger, and all who knew him felt as confindantes to his boundless wit and wonder. He left as he lived, with a bang, not a whimper.

In lieu of  flowers, please eat wild Salmon, adopt a dog and donate to the ACLU.

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Patti and I were deeply touched by the above obit. I went on-line and expressed my gratitude for the survivors specifically saying what exactly happened to Andy. He sounds like he was a wonderful human being. He falls, hits his head, and is gone forever.

Andy suffered a fall and a fatal head injury on Saturday, June 23, 2018.

This thing of falling-and-dying on-the-spot is starting to get-to-me having myself, experienced more than one fall lately. Having known two close associates and a third friend’s mother who fell, hit their heads and died I am really concentrating on NOT falling. The issue is, one can fall even when trying NOT to fall. Are falls pre-ordained?

One of my very best and closest friends who has suffered from advancing cancer deteriortion, fell and broke his arm. Then he fell and destroyed his knee. In the hospital he ‘gave up the Ghost’ and passed on one short week ago yesterday.

Captain, we missed the point!

I said to delete this Post before reading it now didn’t I?

The point is that this aging-thing is getting a tad difficult to control.

Cap and Patti