A Very Special Day

"Let me win.  But if I cannot win, let me be brave in the attempt."   -The Special Olympics Athletes Oath   

      As many of my friends know, I don't make any secrets to the fact that I play golf.  My son and daughter as well as my wife play golf.  It is a sport that we enjoy very much and has its challenges and rewards. Someone has also been said that you can tell a lot about a person by the way they play golf.  All of this is true.  It could be said that I am a golf nut. On Thursday, my perspective on the game and of life itself changed.  I participated with my son in a Special Olympics Golf Tournament.This was truly a "Special" day.
     I am no stranger to playing in golf tournaments.  In fact, a few years ago it was my pleasure to play in an high level regional event where I had to qualify to get in.  This was golf at a high tournament level.  We played on the best courses and against the best competition. Every little aspect of the game mattered, especially the score. The stakes were high, even though we weren't playing for money.  You really wanted to have your"A" game going and play well. The pressure was on, even though it was a lot of fun.
     Thursday was different.  We played on a course that was a par three course and holes were no longer than 180 yards.  There were no 400 yard par fours or lengthy 600 yard par fives. The course was not in the best of shape. The greens were not fast and true, but bumpy and slow at best. This was not the PGA, but you wouldn't know it if you looked at the faces of the competitors. You could see the simple joy of just competing in each of their faces. Believe me, their enthusiasm was contagious.
     We all talk about what courage is. I saw the true definition of courage in all the athletes.  No matter what their circumstances, they participated and had a lot of fun.  One athlete that played in my foursome perhaps demonstrated that true quality of courage.  Her name was Maria and she played from a wheelchair. She didn't hit the ball far, in fact the ball never went more than twenty yards but that didn't matter.  Just the look on her face and the determination that she showed touched me in a way that I will not soon forget. She squeezed every ounce of joy she could from the experience. I am still getting goose bumps just remembering the time with her.
     I had a lot of fun at this tournament and was taught a lot about the game of golf and life itself-- more than you will know and certainly more than I would have ever imagined.  

This is the true definition of courage and competition.

 

Hi, And Welcome!

     I looked on my audience stats and saw this morning that I have a new reader from Italy.  I would like to say bon giorno or bono sera to you.  I don't know if it is morning or night there in Italy, but I wanted to welcome you to the family of readers.  I am half Italian, but I don't speak Italian. I'm also half Greek and do speak enough Greek to get me arrested in Athens or to order an ouzo.  At any rate, welcome. I was going to share a bit of Italian cuisine with you, the picture of a great pizza but its on my phone and I haven't downloaded it yet. Oops, I forgot that they don't make pizza like we are accustomed to in Italy.  Sorry, I welcome you anyway.  Maybe I will get a picture of a good shrimp scampi or fettuchine alfredo and send that another time.
     Hi to you in Poland!
     Today is a holiday here in the United States and I am not working today.  I am going to keep this post short.  Today is the day we remember those who served in the Armed Forces of The United States to preserve our freedom.  I salute you and give you a hearty and well deserved thank you!

Remember those who served to preserve our freedom.

   

Thank God I Woke Up!

     As you know, things have been a bit stressful around here.  The guards-- you know, the ones with the sipee cups--have become a bit more aggressive and don't allow me to roam the castle freely as much.  They fear that I am communicating with the underground.  That's not true by the way, I just talk to myself in here a lot. The queen has gone over to the invaders so I am left alone in my office to be retrained.  Such is life.
     I haven't been sleeping well lately.  The night's sleep seems to have gotten shorter and I get less of it. The sleep that I do get isn't deep and refreshing, its shallow and restless.  What do you expect having to carry on the burdens of my people and their freedom.  These invaders are vicious and relentless.  I do not understand their culture.
     The mind does some crazy things.  Sometimes as we sleep it produces images-dreams- that are in deed strange and sort of off the wall. Such was the case the other night as I awoke from a sound sleep in a horrible sweat. The horrible dream that I experienced could only be attributed to my stress.
      Here is the basic happenings in that dream:

    As it turns out, there was this incredible new thing that came out--something using seaweed if I remember correctly--that was newest and greatest best thing. It cured cancer, was tremendously effective in weight loss, preserved the upholstery of your car and kept you teeth bright as well. This new wonder product came out of nowhere and was only available through an MLM, or multi-level marketing distributor ship.
     The upline of this product seemed to come out of nowhere as did the product. Nobody knew a thing about them.  They held their meetings and sold their distributorships and thousands joined.  The meeting were required and all distributors had to go and they were required to bring at least two people along.
The meetings were held by the company uplines, who nobody had heard of before. They essentially had appeared as if from space--you probably know where I am going with this.  People started disappearing, no one knew where these people who attended these meetings went.
     THEY WERE EATEN BY THE UPLINE AS THEY WERE ALIENS FROM ANOTHER PLANET!

OK, I know that seems a bit bizarre, and it is.  You have to realize the stress I am under right now.  I really am OK, and safe but it is a bit hectic right now. As a disclaimer, I have nothing against MLM companies and I have in fact been a part of them.  Don't hold that against me please.
     I want to again assure you that I am in fact sane--I think. My cereal is getting soggy so I think I will go eat it.
  That dream was scary.
       

The helmet the Aliens wore at their meetings.

 

Cereal Serial...Last Part, I Promise

     I promise that this will be the last in the Cereal Serial series.  However, I may do my politician act and that may not be the case. Read my lips, no new taxes.  I liked that one and actually voted for the man.  Here's a recent one.  You can keep your Doctor and your health care plan. That was a good one. So, I will go on record as saying this will be the last Cereal Serial, I promise and I am not asking for your vote.
     Here are a couple of questions for the ages. I like asking you these questions because it is my job to make you think and make your brain work so that it doesn't get weak. That's my job you know, and I love doing it.  Its one way I give back to the community, asking these questions to stimulate your brain. 
     Back to the questions at hand, and they are  important ones.You probably have never considered this before, but we must all look at the world at times from a different perspective, not a weird one, just a different one. As I have said many times, I am not weird, just different. 
     When you are finishing a bowl of cereal (Do they eat cereal in Poland?  I'm not saying that to be insulting, I would just like to know), what do you do with the last few Cherios or Fruit Loops or Frosted Flakes left floating in the bowl? Do you patiently fish them out and eat them? What about the milk left in the bowl.  Now that is a question to consider.  Do you drink the milk or throw it down the drain?  I'll give you some time to think about it and consider your actions.
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Do Do Do Do Do Do-Do, Do Do Do Do Doot Du Dot Dot Do (Jeopardy Theme, I thought that was a bit of a humorous touch.)  I'll give you a minute more or so.
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     Times Up so what did you come up with? You can make up your own minds, but personally I fish out the last flakes and drink the milk.  It doesn't taste like milk any more anyway.  Besides, just think of all the people who are starving out there in the world. Those of you who just throw out the few flakes left in the bowl along with the milk should consider this when you carelessly throw out this perfectly good and nutritious food.  Especially if the cereal had been cocoa puffs.
     I love cocoa puffs and the best part of eating cocoa puffs is the chocolate milk that is left when the cereal is gone.  It is truly heaven and if you haven't tried it--especially those of you in Poland who I hope have a sense of humor and remember I'm not picking on you--you have missed one of the great pleasures of this world. My wife doesn't let me eat Cocoa Puffs anymore.  They contain too much sugar, or so she says.
     To those of you who throw out the milk and last few flakes, shame on you.  Just think of the resources of this planet that you are wasting.  Think of those who sacrificed to bring you that food.  Think of the poor cow who gave up her milk and the poor calf that didn't get their share of its mother's mild that day. Even  more think of the poor kernel of grain; whatever grain be it corn, wheat, rice or oat.  That kernel of grain gave up its life to be processed so that you could be fed.  It is an insult to the memory and sacrifice of those who gave their all so that you could eat. Let us consider their feelings as well--if they could feel.
     To those of you who eat the last loop and drink the milk in the bowl, I congratulate you and thank you! To those of you who throw this down the drain, I have a suggestion to make.  Try oatmeal or some other hot cereal where there is no milk or last flake.  Make sure you just eat it all so that you don't step on the memory of those who gave so valiantly so that you could be fed. 
     One request I do have.  This goes out to my readers in Poland.  Could you comment on if you do in fact eat cereal in Poland.  I want to learn more about Poland.

You are going to say "That's not cereal."  I know that.

The Treaty Has Been Signed!

     Before I get into my thoughts for the day and sharing with you the events tat have transpired as to the invasion, I want to acknowledge my new reader/readers in Poland.  I want to warmly welcome you and offer this bit of advice--Don't try to make any sense of my writings.  They mean absolutely nothing in the scheme of the world.  In fact, I admit that most of what I write in this setting is mindless drivel and means absolutely nothing.
     I actually have some friends who are Polish.  Wait, that isn't exactly true.  He was my chiropractor and was a big guy, a body builder. I think he was only half Polish and half Czech.  We used to play golf together and he used to crack my back. Our friendship remained strong even though he moved to Utah.  There is a lot of that going on, people moving out of California. I guess there are too many loonies--uh, excuse me, crazy people--running California. Putting a tax on the number of miles you drive in addition to the gas and sales taxes, come on.
      I suppose that I could say that I was almost directly impacted by the Polish, not to mention the Germans and the Japanese. My father had a Polish girlfriend before World War Two when he lived in Connecticut.  Her name was Helen as far as the story goes, She would cook Dad golumke (cabbage roles) and kielbasa. I like kielbasa but hate cabbage roles.  Helen was close to being my mother, but then the war came and Dad went into the Air Corps. He bid adieu to Helen and never looked back.
     Eventually he was stationed at Hammer Field in Fresno where he met my mother.  Mom was--she passed away last year--Italian. If you want to be accurate about the whole story she was Italian but ethnically Albanian.  She didn't speak Italian but a dialect of Albanian which we can also tell this story as well, but I won't. Maybe that's why a lot of people think that I am a bit weird--I say  I'm just different and defend that stance.  My good friend once said I am the way I am because of the mumps that brought the high fever when I was twenty, but I was weird--um, different--way before then.
     So, instead of golumke and kielbassa on Sunday afternoons after Mass, we had homemade spaghetti with a rich sausage/meat sauce over it and lots of romano cheese.  To this day, I still like a lot of cheese on my spaghetti, but I'm off subject here. I no longer go to the Catholic Church and have married a fine woman who is English or some sort of such. We go to a Presbyterian Church and have Mexican food after church or go to the local Applebee's.  Isn't life great!

So, I don't have many food pictures and definitely don't have a picture of a golumke. This will have to do.

 

Written In Exile...Part I Don't Know And At This Point Don't Care

     Yesterday, there was hope.  The invaders had departed and it seemed as though my ordeal was over. Perceptions being as they are, I stopped briefly to catch my breath.  The sipee cup guards had left and the coast was clear. The invaders had boarded their longboats and left.  Can you tell I've been watching too many episodes of "The Vikings"?  I do what I can though lately it has been recorded Giants games and the invaders first choice, Barney. You can just imagine the depths and brutality of their torture.
     In my search for rest and recuperation, I chose to stay in the castle. It was quiet and the castle was deserted except for the queen and myself. I was able to climb on the throne once again and enjoy the quiet. This decision to stay was regrettably the wrong decision. The invaders have returned and this time it seems that it will be for a very long occupation.

The invaders return.

 

Cereal Serial (Captains Log: Supplemental) Written In Exile Under House Arrest

     I always wanted to write a Captains Log: Supplemental.   It was so cool when Captain Kirk or Picard or Janewicz--whatever her name was--or Tucker was in trouble they would always say "Captain's Log: Supplemental".
     Yes, you could say that I have been watching too much Star Trek lately, but what else is there to do when you are confined to your office. That's not exactly true, because I don't have a TV in my office. I have to go out of my office, my sipee cup guards in tow, and go to my bedroom to turn on the TV in there. I have opted out of the torture option in favor of the exile option, the torture option being watching "Frozen" continually on the main TV in the living room.
     It is a flat screen HD TV, which in essence I have been banned from watching by the invaders. By decree of the invaders, only "Frozen", The Disney Channel, The Cartoon Channel and Nick are permitted to be aired on the TV. It is their process of indoctrination. I choose exile.
     Hold on, their queen is returning.  I must go now as they do not know that I am writing this.What lies ahead, I do not know.

This was what it looked like Sunday.  The invader's  launched their attack from the sea.  I don't know how they did it since we live 70 miles inland, but they did it.

House Arrest and Exile

     The invaders have triumphed. I have been placed under house arrest and restricted to my office.  Armed guards with sipee cups have been placed outside my door to keep me in my office and I have only restricted access to the rest of the house. One of the guards crawls with me to make sure I don't escape should I need to leave my cell for nature call.

The invader's commanding general.  Not really, this is just a picture of  my son Zack.  He's not a general at all.

My diet now consists of Fruit Loops and Macaroni and Cheese. There is a rumor that the dreaded hot dog will be tonight's dinner. My fate is as of yet unknown.

Surrender is Emenent! (I May Not Have Spelled That Right, But Oh Well)

    The moat has been crossed and the castle door has been breached. The end is near.  As I sit here in a corner of the castle, I ponder my fate.  There is no sign of relief and the outcome is no longer in doubt. We have lost the battle.  The invaders have triumphed and it is just a matter of time before it is all at an end. I have, along with my beautiful queen have fought the valiant fight. All hope is lost and I bid you a fond farewell.
     Well, not really as I probably will write something else soon. After all, I'm not dead just suffering the effects of house guests--one step daughter, three step grandchildren and my youngest daughter. The quiet house is no longer.  

Situation Update...Send Help Fast!

     The garrison has survived the night but cannot hold out. Provisions are low as is ammunition (nerves). We are still fighting, but it is not known how much longer we can hold out. Send resupply and reinforcements soon. Should help arrive soon, this may be our last communication.
     Hello to those of you reading this in Poland and in Germany.  All this may not make a bit of sense but hang in there.

Situation Desparate...This Garrison Cannot Hold Out Much Longer..

     HELP! MAYDAY, MAYDAY! Broken Arrow!  This garrison needs immediate reinforcement or it will fall. Send help immediately!
     The castle is under attack.  We are surrounded and the situation is desperate.  We cannot hold out much longer. The invaders have cut off our lines of resupply and we do not know when the lines of communication will be cut.
     All right, you may think that what I wrote was a little off the wall and makes no sense.  I am not going to explain it in detail--I'm too tired for that and right now I am in hiding. What I will do is explain the events of today. What was supposed to be a quiet house with just Denise and I quietly watching the San Francisco Giants play baseball on TV--recorded I might add--has turned into a disaster area. They have returned.
     I want to go on record as saying that the "Empty Nest" theory is a crock of smelly excrement. Whoever suggested the idea that children leave their parents for their own lives away out in the big world to find their own fortunes could not have been a parent. They always come back.  They did tonight.
     It started last week when my youngest daughter called and said that she had no place to stay.  She didn't ask to move in for the summer, but I knew what she was trying to ask.  I thought I would save her the embarrassment. Of course I said she could move in, but with conditions.  She must pay her rent and phone bill on time as well as go to school. She agreed and made arrangements to move in today. That's fine, because we did have the space after Denise's son went into the Army.
     Denise received a call from her daughter about troubles at her home and could she spend a few days with us. She has three young children by the way.  Of course Denise said yes.  What was I to do. Voiala, instant madhouse.  There goes the quiet house with just Denise and I. This caused me to hide as my ADD kicked in and I am overwhelmed.
     The person who put forth the idea of an empty nest should be...well, you fill in the blank. Montana is looking very good.

The only thing that was not pillaged from the castle.