A CHRISTMAS REPORT

 

Dear George, 

We’ve just wound up our best Christmas in many years. Our son Justin and teen-age grandkids Alex and Leo arrived on Dec. 23 and left this afternoon (Dec. 28). In between we filled the time with fun and laughter. The family is driving to Nashville where Alex and Leo with fly to L.A. to meet up with their Aunt Jamie and cousins. Justin and their pup L’il Paws will then continue to New Orleans. Our dog Iko is mourning Lil Paws’ departure, and we are doing the same for our family. Here is a rhymed accounting of our time together. 

Love, 

Dave 

Justin and our grandkids were here 

With bags filled with holiday cheer 

The Bulk Outlet was closed 

We sad shoppers deposed 

So we went to the thrift shop for gear 

On Christmas we had presents galore 

My Satchmo cap I truly adore 

Katja did lots of shopping 

Kept all the folks hopping 

And our family brought all even more 

The kids’ notes were filled with affection 

A boon to our holiday connection 

They’re such fun, that’s the truth 

Take us back to our youth 

And make for nostalgia and reflection 

We tuned into the show “Stranger Things” 

Such scary weird creatures with wings 

I struggled with the plot 

What I thought, it was not 

For others, it tickled heartstrings 

Daily walks with Iko and L’il Paws 

Iko was more prone to pause 

These dogs are so cute 

And they’ve mastered each route 

That’s why they deserve our applause 

“Avatar: Fire and Ash” 

A movie that makes a big splash 

At times I was confused 

Then I’d find myself amused 

Three plus hours went by in a flash 

We went to see MAD Magazine 

A stiff challenges to the American scene 

The art was quit fine 

Graphics tickled one’s spine 

And sometimes it proved actually clean 

The gang went to see “Marty Supreme” 

A young man who was driven by his dream 

His thing was ping pong 

An avenue to belong 

Toxic ambition was the theme 

The Bulk Outlet was open the second time 

But the kids thought it not worth a dime 

Off to Pixel Nineteen 

Much more fit for a teen 

A warehouse for customers in their prime 

Off to the Mariemont to take in “Hamnet” 

Death and grief were an ever-present threat 

But Shakespeare wrote his play 

And his show saved the day. 

I cried a few tears, not upset 

Kenwood Mall for our bi-annual trip 

The youth searching for merchandise hip 

They did Alex’s nails 

Then some half price off sales 

We barely had space in our ship 

We went to First Watch for our lunch 

A chorizo omelet, my favorite munch 

Leo, Katja, French toast 

Alex, veggies, the utmost. 

The meals at First Watch pack a punch 

Alex got a school project back 

Lost at the museum — smack, bang, whack. 

Some good soul turned it in 

Which caused Alex to grin 

And now life is back in the black 

Justin did lots of household repairs 

Fixed the lights on the front and back stairs 

Did the refrigerator filter 

The smoke alarms off-kilter. 

The kitchen drawer, among our very longest cares. 

We partied with Hannah, Chris, and Karrie 

A family gathering that proved to be merry 

We dined on China Food 

Very tasty for our brood. 

Traded stories that were funny, warm, and scary. 

To Bronte’s, our very last meal 

Tasty brunch, that was the deal 

Our grandkids are flying to L.A. 

Meet with Aunt Jamie and cousins, more play 

For all concerned, the Christmas spirit is real

CHRISTMAS TALES

 Dear George, 

With our son J and grandkids A and L visiting, we are enjoying a very special holiday season.  It reminds me that Christmas has played a significant role over the years in our lives.  Here are a few of the stories.  

Trees of Many Colors

My dad planted evergreens in the field across from our house on Riverside Boulevard, and, by the time I was 9 or 10, they were reaching maturity.  About a week before Christmas I would go with him, and we would pick out a white pine or a spruce for our Christmas tree.  We would lug it back to our driveway, tie it to the top of our car, and bring it to Van Domelen’s auto body shop in downtown Menominee.  Vic would set it up in the vestibule in which they spray painted cars, and the workers would paint our tree red, blue, or yellow.  My aunt Martha always complained about our tree being sacrilegious, but we children thought it was amazing..  

Santa Comes to Visit

In the late afternoon of Christmas Eve my dad drove us to Vic and Ruth Mars’ home at Northwood Cove on the Green Bay shore where we joined a bunch of other kids from my parents’ circle of friends.  We were told to hide behind chairs and sofas in the living room and to be completely quiet.  After a while who came in but Santa himself, carrying a large bag of toys.  We were entranced.  He put a lot of them underneath the Christmas tree.  Miraculously every kid in the room received a present from Santa.  

A Family Celebration

Every Christmas eve our extended family gathered at our house on the river to celebrate Christmas.  Uncles Kent and Ralph brought cosmetic and health care samples from their drugstores as presents.  However, Kent’s twin brother, Karl, who was a bachelor with no family of his own was much more extravagant.  Gowns, fur wraps, jewelry for the woman and fancy toys for the children.  I used my nuclear science kit to search for uranium deposits on the Lake Superior shore.  Mother made a fancy turkey dinner with Schaum Torte for dessert.  We sang Christmas carols, and the kid took turns reading “The Night Before Christmas.” 

Christmas on My Own

I was at home for Christmas every year until 1958 the I was 21.  That Christmas I was in New York City, living in Washington Heights, and my two friends has gone home for the holidays.  I went to an Irish bar in the neighborhood.  After a couple of shots of whiskey, I thought I’d better call home, and I sent my Christmas wishes.  A couple of guys at the bar then said I sounded like I had an Irish accent, but others said I sounded more Scottish.  They asked if I had jumped ship and was in the country illegally.  I said that I was.  They said that they could get papers for me, but these would come from the Mafia.  Too scared, I said thanks but no thanks, and I headed for home.  

A Married Christmas.  In 1964 Katja and I had our fifth Christmas holiday as a married couple at my parents’ home in Menominee.  We had just returned from a two-month European tour of 8 or 9 countries, and we’d documented our adventure with photos that we’d had turned into slides.  Vic and Doris invited a couple dozen friends to a party at river house where Katja and I gave a photographic European tour to the group.  I’d say Katja did 95% of the reporting, and everyone found her delightful. 

Too much to take in.  We started celebrating Christmas full-scale when Justin turned one — trees, stockings on the mantel, holiday music, a special dinner, etc.  When Justin was four we took him to Johnny’s Toy Store in Greenhills to see what sorts of gifts he would like to ask Santa for.  At first this was a fun outing — Justin was happy and excited, his doting parents were enthralled.  However, the store was huge, the merchandise endless, and the stimulation of all those toys proved too much.  Justin cried and cried, and nothing we could do calmed him down.  Santa did get the necessary information though.  

A Christmas Tree Forest.  We moved to our house on Ludlow Avenue in Cincinnati’s Clifton neighborhood in about 1975.  I cut down a sumac tree near the Digby Tennis Courts and made flour-and-salt cookie faces, painted with acrylics, for decorations.  Our neighbors started putting their evergreen Christmas trees out on the curb as early as Dec. 26th or 27th.  Justin and I agreed that was a shame, so we started hauling them home and setting them up on our back patio.  One year we had 17 Christmas trees in our patio forest.  They stayed there till Valentine’s Day.  

Christmas in the Big Apple.  We spent many Christmases over the years on Manhattan’s Upper West Side with Katja’s sister and brother-in-law, Ami and Bruce.  New York is an absolute joy during the holidays.  Fifth Avenue, Rockefeller Center, St. Peter’s and Saint John’s, the Met and MOMA, Macy’s and Saks Fifth Avenue, Times Square.  Ami made an elegant Christmas dinner for family and friends each year, and the two sisters were extravagant with their gifts.  Justin became so in love with the city over the years that he decided that was the only place he wanted to go to college.  And so he did.  

A Special Family Christmas.  Over the years we have usually celebrated the holidays with our NOLA family at Thanksgiving, but this year J, A, and L joined us in Cincinnati.  It’s been a wonderful time so far.  We did the “MAD Magazine” art show at the Cincinnati art museum yesterday, took in “Avatar: Fire and Ash” at Cinemark, and exchanged a bonanza of gifts on Christmas morning.  A and L are 17 this year, a year away from getting ready for college.  They are bright, affectionate, mature. and fun.  A joy for their grandparents on this special holiday.  

Love,

Dave 

A POETRY QUIZ: HUMAN OR ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE?

 

Dear George, 

Can you tell if a poem has been written by a human versus by an AI chatbot? Below are ten pairs of limericks. Within each pair one limerick was written by a human being (myself) and the other was written by Gemini, Google’s artificial intelligence chatbot. Gemini was instructed to write a limerick on the same topic as my human-written version (e.g., “Write a limerick about bugs in the kitchen”). Your task is to judge which is which. First write the numbers 1 through 10 down a blank piece of paper. Then read each pair of limericks. If you think the first poem in the pair was human-written and the second was AI-written, write H/AI next to the appropriate number. Conversely, if you think the first was AI-written and the second was human-written, write AI/H next to the number. As a hint, half of the pairs are in one order and half are in the other order. Correct answers will be given at the end. 

        1. BUGS IN THE KITCHEN 

The small insects, countless and bold 

In our kitchen their story unrolled 

They marched 'cross the floor 

Then asked us for more 

A sticky sweet chaos of old 

Hordes of bugs have invaded our sink 

Seeking morsels to eat and to drink 

Some are big, most are small 

All delighted to crawl 

These bugs are night creatures, I think. 

             2. AGE EIGHTY-FIVE 

I’ve hit eighty-five years on the spot 

And still feel like a colt that can trot 

My memory's a blur 

But of this I am sure, 

I've learned what to do and what not 

Today I turned age eighty-five 

Quite puzzling to still be alive 

Never planned for this day 

Crummy hearing, hair gray 

The new question, how best to survive 

         3. WORDLE IN TWO GUESSES 

Today I solved Wordle in two 

Success leaped straight out of the blue 

My first word was CREST 

Got three letters, guessed the rest 

Offbeat picks but they proved to be true 

To start, I chose ADIEU with great thought 

For the second guess, the right word was caught 

In guesses just two 

The answer broke through 

A Wordle solved quickly, well wrought 

         4. BENGALS LOSE TO BEARS 

The Bengals' defense, it is said 

Left the Bears' tight end quite well fed 

A big lead erased 

Their victory displaced 

Now Cincy fans just shake their head 

The Bengals got thumped by the Bears 

Though our offense gained more yards than theirs 

Near the end, things looked good 

Victory looming, knock on wood 

Oh no, Zack! Please make some repairs 

         5. OUR DOGGIE’S ACCIDENT 

Iko pooped right on top of our bed 

He must have been out of his head 

I took him straight out 

Screamed that he was a lout 

And now we just eye him with dread 

Young Iko, a pup full of zest 

Put his owners quite fully to the test 

On the bed, soft and deep, 

While his people did sleep 

He left a brown gift, unimpressed 

         6. LEFTOVER THANKSGIVING TURKEY 

We are still eating leftover turkey 

Mixed with chicken a la king, sort of murky 

Most years turkey’s my favorite 

I've always said I savor it 

But right now I would rather have beef jerky 

I thought I would finish the bird 

Every last morsel, uncured 

My stomach then cried 

"You're quite over-plied!" 

Now I'm stuck, very groggy and blurred 

         7. GET A HAIRCUT 

My dear wife, she looked quite aghast, 

"That mop top is growing too fast! 

Like a shaggy old mutt, 

You look like a nut, 

Get a trim, before winter has passed!” 

My wife tells me, “Get a haircut” 

She claims people think I’m a nut 

But I don’t want to go 

My hair’s still so-so 

And who cares if I look like a mutt 

         8. TO THE BODY SHOP 

I’ve bashed in the blue Honda’s fender 

It looks like I’ve been on a bender 

Backed up into a wall 

Now I’m off to John Hall 

That John Hall's quite skilled, he will mend ‘er 

My blue Honda suffered a smash, 

Its front fender looked like pure trash. 

To John Hall's I drove slow, 

Where they put on a show, 

To fix up the dent in a flash! 

         9. DINNER AT THE CHART HOUSE 

The Chart House for my birthday dinner 

Holy moly, I felt like a winner 

I ordered sea bass 

Such a fish, it’s first class 

But the lava cake won’t make me thinner 

For my birthday, I went to the spot 

The Chart House, all fancy and hot 

I savored the bass 

Then ate with great class, 

The warm, gooey lava cake pot 

         10. THE WINTER SNOW STORM 

A huge storm brought snowfall so deep 

Eight cold inches started to creep 

"Dear Iko, I fear 

Will you stay warm, my dear?" 

While he snored in a comforting heap 

We’re enjoying a huge winter storm 

The whitest of white is the norm 

The snow’s eight inches deep 

Our car’s under the heap 

I just hope that our pup Iko can stay warm. 

How did you do? You might want to guess how many of the 10 pairs you got correct before reading the following answers. Here is the answer key. Give yourself one point for each pair that you got correct. KEY: 1. AI/H; 2. AI/H; 3. H/AI; 4. AI/H; 5. H/AI; 6. H/AI; 7. AI/H; 8. H/AI; 9. H/AI; 10. AI/H. 

I bet you did better than you thought. I tried this quiz out on members of my writers’ group, and they thought it was pretty hard. However, most got between six and nine pairs correct. (Because it’s a 50/50 decision, a score of 5 would be chance.). When I imagined doing the quiz, I thought odd rhymes were a cue to AI-generated poems (e.g., “unrolled” in pair 1; “wrought” in pair 3; “unimpressed” in pair 5; "pot" in pair 9). On the other hand, I thought some pairs were almost impossible to distinguish (e.g., 2, 7). 

There has been research on whether people can reliably distinguish between poems written by classic authors (e.g., Shakespeare, Emily Dickinson, Walt Whitman, T.S Eliot) and AI-generated poems (when the chatbot was instructed to write in the style of a given author). There are two main findings. (1) Participants were generally unable to distinguish the two classes of poems, sometimes more likely to judge an AI-generated poem as human-authored than a poem actually written by a human author. (2) When not told whether an author was human or AI, participants often rated AI-generated poems more favorably. The researchers have suggested that non-expert readers prefer AI-generated poems because they are generally more straightforward, grammatically correct, and easier to understand versus the complexity and ambiguity of poems written by classic human poets. 

So the big question is whether poetry writing is going to be taken over by Artificial Intelligence. I don’t think it will, though AI is getting more sophisticated, year by year. Probably the best answer was given by one of my fellow group members: “I wouldn’t have any interest in reading a poem written by a chatbot.”

Love, 

Dave

A DAY FOR THANKS

 

Dear George, 

I think I posted this same message last year (and for X number of years before that). But you can never have too many thanks. Here goes. 

Thanks to my parents, Vic and Doris, who provided a special family to grow up in, put me through Antioch College, and created Farm which all the subsequent generations are still enjoying. 

Thanks to my siblings — Vicki, Peter, and Steven — for all the happy times we’ve had. 

Thanks to Katja who is responsible for all the things that have been and are good in our lives. 

Thanks to Justin who has been a loved and loving son for over half a century now (so hard to believe). 

Thanks to our grandkids — Alex and Leo — who keep us in touch with the young generation. 

Thanks to our extended family of Werrins and Lundgrens who make us feel part of a grand endeavor. 

Thanks to many friends over the years — sources of fun, support, and affection. 

Thanks to the University and to CABVI which supported our careers and provided the pension funds that keep us away from poverty’s door. 

Thanks to our many doctors over the years, without whom we would have been in our graves long ago. 

Thanks to my teachers at Menominee High, Antioch, and Michigan who did their best to keep my brain operating. 

Thanks to OLLI classes at the University (Osher Lifelong Learning Institute) and especially Advanced Poetry (as well as my writing group). 

Thanks to our many dogs — Heather, Jacques, Winston, Mike and Duffy, and Iko — remarkable sources of loyalty and happiness. 

Finally, thanks to a vast array of impersonal objects that have been significant in my life, e.g. the computer, Gemini (AI chatbot), mind games, Netflix et al., tennis, camping, postcards, motorcycles, thrift stores, etc. 

Love, 

Dave

SIXTY-FIVE

 

Dear George, 

We have to grapple with such large numbers these days. Sixty-five. That’s the wedding anniversary that we celebrated yesterday at La Bar a Boeuf. I can’t imagine our marriage being that long. Subjectively I would think twenty-five, maybe thirty years. Where did all that time go? 

Our wedding was on the Antioch campus in Yellow Springs on August 28, 1960. After a one-night honeymoon in downtown Dayton, we packed up and set off for graduate studies at the University of Michigan. I think of our Ann Arbor stay as our honeymoon years. We were so excited to be married and tried to figure out how to do everything together. Initially we decided to make joint decisions on all purchases (e.g., groceries, toothpaste, furniture). This proved burdensome, however, so we decided that Katja (as the more adult member) should make all purchases (a decision that I wish we’d thought more about). 

In 1966 we moved to Cincinnati where I’d taken a job as a faculty member in the Departments of Psychology and Sociology at the University of Cincinnati. This was a hard time on Katja and consequently on our marriage. We’d been equal peers throughout our undergraduate and graduate studies, but now, suddenly, I was “the Professor” and she was “the Professor’s wife”, an appellation shared by most faculty spouses. I became immersed with my career, while Katja was trying to figure out what to do next. 

All that changed in 1969 when Katja gave birth to our son, Justin. We were enthralled with our new kid, and parenting together gave new meaning to our marriage. Our newfound family became the center of our life. By age eleven Justin had taken up competitive junior tennis. He was very successful, and Katja and I became maniacal tennis parents. Our child’s athletic success spilled over into good feelings about our family as a whole. 

In 1987 Justin left for college, and we became “empty nesters”. While that meant more time together, we’d been a “threesome” so long that now we felt incomplete. Katja, however, had returned to school and gotten an M.S.W. degree, taking a job as a social worker at the Cincinnati Association for the Blind. We both were busy with our careers. 

The biggest subsequent change in our married lives was when we retired, I in 2009 and Katja i 2011. Such a dramatic change in our lives. Among other things we were together virtually all of the time and had near-complete freedom in what we wanted to do. I think of these retired years as one of the happiest and most fulfilling times in our marriage. I can’t even remember a time in recent years that we’ve quarreled. As we get older, we’re subject to more medical problems, but we’re both there for each other with care and support. We are very lucky to have lived together so long, and I look forward to our future wedding anniversaries. 

Love, 

Dave

KATJA'S FALL

 

Dear George, 

I was sitting in the solarium reading the newspaper when I heard Katja scream for me from the kitchen. I rushed in and was startled to find her lying on the floor, limbs askew, her face pressed against the floorboards. She had been walking toward the sink, was suddenly overcome with dizziness, and had fallen flat on her face. It was a struggle trying to help her get up because her left leg was in excruciating pain. She made it to a dining room chair an inch at a time, and I went to get the walker that we’d stored in the basement from a previous hospital stay. Katja was frightened that she’d broken her leg or that she may have damaged her titanium knee implant. Thanks to our elevator, Katja made it upstairs to bed. We thought about calling 911 but decided to wait until the morning to see how things went. This was Friday, July 19. 

Katja didn’t experience pain if she kept her leg perfectly still, and she slept during the night. In the morning, though, her pain was even worse. She woke up crying, frightened that she might never walk again. We decided to call 911. The paramedics, a team of four, arrived in less than two minutes. I put our dog Iko in the den with the door closed, and the paramedics interviewed Katja — what had happened, where the pain was, her medical conditions, allergies, etc. They were very professional and competent. The University of Cincinnati Medical Center is near us and is the city’s largest hospital, but we’d had to wait over four hours last time so I suggested Good Samaritan instead. Katja, though, opted for UC because of its extensive facilities. The paramedics wrapped her in a blanket-like stretcher and carried her down the stairs from our second floor and out to the ambulance. I took Iko for his walk and drove over to Emergency an hour later. 

Contrary to our last experience, UC Emergency was relatively uncrowded, and Katja had already had X-rays by the time I arrived. The doctor said the X-rays did not show a broken bone, but that X-rays weren’t able to detect soft tissue injuries — muscles, ligaments, etc. He also wasn’t convinced that there wasn’t a fracture and had ordered a CT scan to further explore that possibility. Katja wasn’t able to bear any weight at all on her left leg. Her pain was still terrible. Because she couldn’t stand up, the doctor said she would need to stay in the hospital at least overnight. We were both relieved. 

One night in the hospital soon turned into five nights. The CT scan had detected a fracture in her left knee area. The medical team decided against surgery in favor of letting it heal naturally. A physical therapist worked with her each day. On day one Katja couldn’t move her left leg at all without experiencing unbearable pain. On day two she could raise it one inch (pain at level 9 of 10). Day three, two inches. Day four, several inches, less pain. On day five she walked down the hospital corridor and up and down five practice stairs. The hospital had been negotiating with our insurance for a two-week stay in a rehab facility, but Katja had improved enough that they canceled that. They still weren’t ready for discharge because Katja’s blood pressure was up and down, and they judged that to be the likely cause of her fall.  

The morning of day six Katja called to say she was being discharged. I drove over and waited in the Patient Discharge area till a nurse brought her down in a wheelchair. A significant moment. We drove home, and Katja was able to use her walker to get up the patio stairs and into the house. Iko was out of his mind to see his mom. Katja was feeling improved enough that she thought she might be able to go to the opera at Music Hall on Saturday evening, but that didn’t sound like a realistic possibility to me. We cancelled our plans for a trip for a summer vacation trip which we’d scheduled for the end of the week.  

Katja has been home for a week at the time I’m writing this. We’re both happy about this, but it’s had its ups and downs. Being a caretaker is a pain in the neck, as is being dependent on one’s spouse for just about everything. We’re used to each separately doing our own thing through the course of the day, but Katja is not very mobile and needs help with all sorts of physical tasks. She’s still in a lot of pain and spends a lot of time in bed, though she did cook scrambled eggs and bacon the other day and likes to get up to feed the dog. 

 I find myself very aware that we are at an age where we can be more subject to physical perils. We both worry about Katja’s injury. I find myself drinking more water (since the doctor said Katja was dehydrated) and gripping the handrail more firmly when I go up or down the stairs. The doctor said that Katja’s recovery will take about six weeks. We’re up to it, and it will probably go by fairly quickly. On the bright side, we’re lucky since the accident and injury could have been even worse. 

Love, 

Dave

EIGHTY-EIGHT, HARD TO BELIEVE

 

Dear George, 

Here it is again. Now it’s number eighty-eight, an age I never imagined I would reach. Actually it doesn’t feel that different from seventy-five or even sixty-two. Though it some ways these years get more relaxed and enjoyable as they move along. 

I always like to look up the meaning of my birthday years, and eighty-eight presents a mixed picture. On the positive side, 88 is considered a very lucky number in Chinese culture, symbolizing wealth and prosperity. Many Chinese businesses incorporate 88 into their names or addresses. Likewise, numerologists view 88 as representing abundance, success, and infinity (due to the two eights which resemble the infinity symbol). In amateur radio and in Morse code, 88 is shorthand for “love and kisses”.  

On the dark side, 88 has been adopted as a symbol by various neo-Nazi and white supremacy groups because “H” is the 8th letter of the alphabet and hence 88 stands for “Heil Hitler”. Because of this, the number 88 is banned for Austrian license plates and for Italian football jerseys. Perhaps not surprisingly, a recent poll indicated that 88% of Republican voters approved of the current president (who will remain anonymous on this blog). 

Famous celebrities who are 88 years old this year include Morgan Freeman, Jack Nicholson, Billy Dee Williams, Robert Redford, Vanessa Redgrave, Shirley Bassey, Warren Beatty, Philip Glass, Margaret O’Brien, and many more. Famous 88 year olds who have died so far in 2025 include Pope Francis, singer Roberta Flack, former Cleveland Browns football player Bobby Ray Franklin, legendary horserace trainer Barry Hills, and Hollywood actress Maureen Hingert. 

While we are prone to think of the late eighties in terms of disease and disability, that’s not my personal experience to date. Rather I feel healthy and active. In particular, there’s a great deal of freedom associated with one’s older years, plentiful time to pursue interests that one finds pleasurable. That’s my agenda for the coming year. 

Love, 

Dave

WRITING SONNETS

Dear George, 

I just finished my OLLI class in writing sonnets. I thought this would be simple and straightforward, but the task was harder than I expected. Sonnets have so many strict rules that writing one is a real challenge. The Sicilian poet Giacomo da Lentini is believed to have invented the sonnet in the 13th century, while the Italian poet Francesco Petrarca (known as Petrarch) is given credit for bringing the sonnet to the forefront of Renaissance literature. The two main traditional types are Petrarchan and Shakespearian sonnets, although modern sonnets can depart from various aspects of these forms. 

Sonnet means “little song” in Italian, a reference the musicality in its use of rhyme and meter. Petrarchan sonnets are 14-line poems written in iambic pentameter (ta-DA ta-DA ta-DA ta-DA ta-DA). The 14 lines are divided into two sections: an octave (the first 8 lines) and a sestet (the final 6 lines). The octave is known as the Proposition (which presents a problem or question), and the sestet is the Resolution (which resolves the problem or gives a new perspective. The rhyme scheme for the octave is ABBA ABBA. The most common rhyme scheme for the sestet is CDECDE, although other variations are also used, e.g., CDCDCD or CDDCDC. Here is my attempt at writing a Petrarchan sonnet. 

THE GIRL OF MY DREAMS 

Eighteen, the college mixer, freshman year. 

I saw this sparkly girl across the way.

So filled with smiles and laughs, so pert, so gay. 

“I’ll marry her,” my impulse was sincere. 

But months went by, my shyness was so clear. 

I ran into the girl most every day 

but never spoke a word, to my dismay. 

My soul was dying from felt pain and fear. 

But just by chance, a fluke brought me to her, 

Milwaukee, we were off on coop jobs 

I went to see good friends, the girl was there 

We talked and laughed, that time is still a blur. 

You might have thought we’d always been heartthrobs 

Our wedding was a glorious affair. 

The sonnet form was adopted and enthusiastically embraced by the English in the Elizabethan period, most notably by Shakespeare who gave it the structure we commonly think of today: 14 lines of rhymed iambic pentameter. In the Shakespearean sonnet, there are three quatrains (four-line stanzas) and then a couplet (a two-line stanza). The rhyme scheme in a Shakespearian sonnet is: ABAB CDCD EFEF GG. Here is my example: 

RIVERSIDE BOULEVARD 

We moved to Riverside in forty-six 

Hardly a boulevard, a gravel road 

Occupied by chipmunks, horseflies, and ticks 

Our Norway pine house, the only abode 

The city dump, a half mile to the east 

I’d go with dad, find good stuff for our house 

Next door, the cemetery, corpses deceased 

A million times, I’ve gone there with my spouse 

The Brewery Park, a quarter mile from home. 

And Mason Park, way at the other end 

The parks were places we would often roam 

Or camp out with my brother and my friend 

Riverside Boulevard, the street of dreams 

Where life was even better than it seems 

Modern sonnets are inspired by the Shakespearian form, but they loosen up the restrictions. For example, they may or may not use iambic pentameter, and they may or many not rhyme. Most have fourteen lines, but poets occasionally depart from this rule. Here is my example of a modern sonnet: 

IKO 

Little Iko grew up in New Orleans 

The beloved pet at a Tulane Ave brothel 

But then he ran away, became a street dog 

Till the dogcatcher locked him in the kennel 

Justin and Kiersta rescued the sweet Schnauzer 

Brought him to their house on South Cortez 

When the pandemic hit, they drove to Cincy 

Before we knew it, we now owned a dog 

Iko sleeps in our bed till ten or eleven 

Then has a morning wrestle, his happiest time 

We walk around the block four times a day 

Watch TV as a family on the sofa 

We’d expected to never have another pooch 

But, thank the stars, Iko showed up at our home 

I have to write a lot more sonnets to become more proficient. If I’m successful, perhaps I’ll post a few here in the future.

Love, 

Dave

MOTHERS' DAY 2025

Dear George, 

Here we are at another Mothers’ Day, definitely the most sentimental day of the year.  My mother, Doris, passed away in 1986 at the age of 76.  Her last years were pretty miserable.  Crippled by circulation problems, depressed, and relying on booze to soothe her pain, she spent a lot of time as a virtual recluse at Farm, our parents’ beloved retirement home.  All of that pain and suffering was the total opposite of most of her adult life in which she was a vivacious, razzmatazz sort of woman.  

Doris grew up as a flapper in the 1920’s, and one of her cardinal values was having fun.  She worried that her children didn’t have as much fun as she and Vic (my dad) had, and I’m sure she was right.  Doris and Vic had a wonderful group of friends, and they got together regularly for parties of all sorts — art parties, poetry parties, music parties, theater parties, and especially costume parties.  Doris loved entertaining, and there was a constant flow of friends into our house,  We children were beneficiaries, since that frequently meant getting together with other kids.  

Doris felt at home when we moved to the country, since she was basically a nature lover.  She planted and maintained a luxurious garden along the west wall of our lawn, and taught me to watch the hummingbirds darting among the flowers.  She supplied a bird feeder outside our dining room window, taught us the names of all the birds, and kept an ongoing list of all the birds she saw during the day.  She and Vic traipsed around the county, bringing home wildflowers to transplant, and for Vic to paint watercolors of.  

Our two Irish Setters, Mike and Micki, were a big part of Doris’s life, and she adored them.  One time she had to go to the hospital for a nasty gash in her arm when she tried to break up a fight between the dogs.  And, as I wrote about recently, she risked her life to save Mike when he fell through the ice on the river.  In her later years Doris had a white Persian cat named Lovely, and she was as fond of the cat as she’d been of the dogs.  

Doris and Vic went on annual trips with friends to see the Metropolitan Opera in Minneapolis, and they went sailboating with friends in the annual Mackinac Island boat race.  They also took us kids each year on a trip to Chicago where we took in the Art Institute, the Museum of Science and Industry, the Maxwell St. Flea Market, and the Kungsholm Restaurant where we enjoyed Swedish smorgasbord.  Our trip to Mexico City in 1952 was a highlight of my brother Steven’s and my young lives.  

Doris performed in community theater, participated in Great Books discussion groups, played bridge with friends, belonged to a long-standing book club, and was a member of the D.A.R. (which she didn’t like to admit).  She was also a super cook: turkey, pot roast, liver sausage, meatloaf, and especially whitefish, caught locally in Green Bay and Lake Michigan.  Thanksgiving and Easter were big meals, and Christmas was the major highlight when our whole extended family joined us.  On my last trip to Farm, she taught me to cook broiled whitefish so I could carry on the tradition.

As a dedicated homemaker, Doris spent a lot of time with her four children: Steven, Peter, Vicki, and myself.  After having three boys, she was thrilled to finally have a girl, and Vicki got special attention.  We weren’t allowed to go swimming until Doris was in the front yard lawn chair, acting as our lifeguard.  She held mini-therapy sessions for Steven and I about bullying, fighting, and sibling jealousy, though it was never very successful.  Most of all, our mother was filled with laughs and was lots of fun.  

In her final days at Marinette General Hospital, her four children flew in from around the country.  I think Doris was shocked by the realization of what that meant.  In her waning hours she asked Peter and I to leave her room so she could be alone.  We stood in the hospital corridor for a while, unsure what to do, and finally went back in.  Doris said, “I’m grateful.”  I think those were her final words.  Having all led happy and successful lives, I’d say we children have also been grateful for many years.  Happy Mothers’ Day, Mom.

Love,

Dave

 

OLD AGE TRIVIA

 

Dear George, 

One of my favorite projects these days is using Google and/or Gemini to scour the Internet and accumulate information on some topic of interest. Aging and death are my favorite topics these days, so here are some of the curious facts I’ve run across. 

Love, 

Dave 

 

                                         BASIC INFO 

 

Size.  The elderly population in the U.S. is growing rapidly, the decade from 2010 to 2020 seeing the fastest growth in persons aged 65 and over since the 1880’s. Demographers predict that the 65 and over population will grow from 59 million in 2023 to nearly 95 million in 2060. 

Who is old?  In the 1950’s “old age” was considered to begin around the mid-60s or even earlier for manual laborers. Today many people in their 60s are considered to be “middle aged”, while “old age” is perceived to begin around 74. 

Stages.  Gerontologists distinguish three stages of “old age”: young-old (65-74; healthier, more active); middle-old (75-84; more age-related health issues); and old-old (85 and older; significant health challenges, frailty). 

                                           LIFE EXPECTANCY 

U.S. life expectancy.  Life expectancy in the U.S. has increased dramatically from 47 years in 1900 to 78.4 years in 2023. Despite spending the most on health care, life expectancy in the U.S. ranks last among wealthy, developed countries (mainly because of smoking and obesity). 

Rich vs. poor.  Disparities in life expectancy between rich and poor Americans have been growing over time, with current studies indicating that the richest 1% of Americans live 7 years longer than the poorest 50%. This gap between rich and poor has been increasing in recent decades. 

Poverty.  In 1959 the poverty rate in the U.S. for adults 65 and older was 35%. Thanks to Medicare and better Social Security benefits, the senior poverty rate in 2023 was 10.1%, lower than the rates for children under 18 (15.3%) and adults aged 18-64 (11.1%). Rates for Hispanics and African-Americans are 3 times higher than for whites. 

Gender gap.  The gender gap in life expectancy is decreasing. In 1990 men were expected to live 7 fewer years than women. By 2017 the gap had gone down to five years (76 vs. 81 years). 

                                                    DECLINE 

Disease.  95% of older adults have at least one chronic disease, e.g., diabetes, arthritis, high blood pressure, and nearly 80% have two or more. 

Doctors.  People 75 and over visit the doctor 3 times as often as those 22-44.   

Falls.  One of four older adults fall each year. Falls are the leading cause of fatal and nonfatal injuries among older adults. 

Pain.  25% of seniors have chronic pain, including up to 80% of those in nursing homes. 

Hearing and vision loss.  About 22% of people ages 65-74 have disabling hearing loss; over age 75, about 55%. One seventh of seniors with hearing impairment use hearing aids. Vision loss also increases with age. One study found that visual impairment increased from 6.2% for ages 75-79 to 36.9% for those 90 and older. 

Sleep.  50-70% of individuals over age 65 report chronic sleep problems (less total sleep time, lighter sleep, increased nighttime awakenings) vs. 15-22% for the general population. By age 65, deep sleep drops to about 5% of sleep time. 

Shrinking.  The vertebrae in one’s spine get closer together as people age, making them about one or two inches shorter. 

Drooping.   Because of gravity people’s noses and ears begin to droop as they get older.   

Cognitive decline.  Various cognitive abilities tend to peak and then decline in early to middle adulthood: information processing speed (declines after age 19); short-term memory (after age 25); face recognition (early 30s); numerical skills (age 40); understanding other people’s emotional states (40s or 50s); vocabulary (as late as 60s or early 70s). 

Dementia.  Nearly half of people over age 85 develop some form of dementia. 

Loneliness.  Older adults are at greater risk for loneliness and social isolation, but it’s not a universal experience. Studies suggest that up to 32% of people over 55 report feeling lonely at any given time.  

Social activity.   In their pioneering study, Life Beyond 85 Years, Johnson and Bauer found that reduced socialization by the over-85s does not harm their well-being. Rather, they “welcome increased detachment.” 

Assisted care.  About 3.6% of elderly people live in assisted care facilities. Even for those 85 and over, the number is only 9%. 

Suicide.  People 85+ have a higher rate of suicide than any other age group (23 deaths per 100,000). Men die by suicide 4 times more often than women. 

Individual differences.  The aging process is a highly individualized experience, with major differences observed between individuals of the same chronological age. Some persons decline rapidly in physical abilities with age, while others maintain high levels of physical functioning well into old age. Likewise for cognitive abilities, social engagement, and emotional well-being. 

                                                                    LIFESTYLE

Exercise.  Physical Activity Guidelines for the elderly recommend 150 minutes of moderate intensity exercise per week. National surveys indicate that between 27% and 44% of older adults meet these guidelines. About 1 in 3 men and 1 in 2 women don’t get any physical exercise. 

TV.  People over 65 watch TV about 4 hours a day, about twice as much as those aged 15-44.  

Welk fans.  Regular viewers of “The Lawrence Welk Show” on public television are predominantly 65 and over (74% in one survey). 

Internet.  ore than any other age group (averaging 33 hours a month). 

Driving.  Drivers 65 and older are more likely to wear their seat belts and drive the speed limit, less likely to drink and drive, and are involved in fewer total accidents than younger age groups (though they are at more risk of a fatal injury in a crash). 

Voting.  Individuals 60 and over cast their ballots more than any other age group. 

Guns. 33% to 42% of older adults (65+) own guns, a higher rate than younger adults. 

Marathons.  In 2011 100-year-old British national Fauja Singh completed the 26-mile Toronto marathon, becoming the first centenarian to do so. 

The afterlife.  Americans’ beliefs in an afterlife increase with age. 

Scams.  In 2023 the FBI reported over 101,000 complaints from individuals age 60 and older about internet crimes, with reported losses exceeding $3.4 billion. Another 2023 study found that 75% of adults aged 50-80 reported experiencing a scam attempt in the past two years. 

                                                          REWARDS 

Rewards.  Rewards associated with elderly years include: more free time and time for loved ones; increased contentment and life satisfaction; enhanced self-acceptance; reduced stress; a better handle on emotions; wisdom and perspective. 

Happiness.  Recent studies indicate that older persons (60 and over) tend to report greater happiness than young and middle-aged adults. Happiness in old age has been linked to an increased focus on the present (vs. future aspirations), better emotional regulation skills, priority given to close relationships, acceptance and wisdom, and the “positivity effect” (older adults tending to remember positive information more).  

Pets.  Research consistently shows that elderly people who own dogs or cats experience increased happiness and well-being. Benefits included a reduced sense of isolation, a sense of purpose, someone to interact with, reduced stress, increased physical activity, tactile comfort, and a daily routine of caring for a pet. 

Super agers.   Researchers estimate that fewer than 10% of elderly persons are “super agers”, i.e., those who have memory performance comparable to individuals 20 to 30 years younger. 

Futurists.  Many futurists predict significant increases in average and maximum human lifespans in the future. For example, computer scientist Ray Kurzweil proposes that AI’s revolutionizing of medicine could potentially halt aging by 2032. 

Conclusions.  Old age is a mixed bag. There is great diversity in people’s experiences in their seventies and beyond. For some, the seventies and eighties are “the golden years”; for others, times of unending pain and stress. The key factors seem to be health and financial security. When one is healthy and financially secure, the older years offer many rewards. With ill health and poverty, the reverse is likely.

CHINESE BELLS DAY

Dear George, 

When my dad returned at the end of World War II, our family moved out to the country on the shore of the Menominee River. There were no other kids within a mile, and the river became the center of our universe. Swimming all summer long, boating in the autumn. The river froze in early December. We chopped holes in the ice to see how thick it was, and when it reached three inches we were allowed to walk across to Pig Island. Sometimes I did winter camping there, pitching my tent on a bed of pine boughs. Skating, sledding, ice fishing, hiking — the river was nearly as much fun in the winter as in the summer. 

By mid-March temperatures began to rise, the ice softened, and our parents told us not to. go out on it. One day, though, our Irish Setter Mike went for a walk on the ice, and he fell through about thirty feet from the shore. Our mother, home alone with us kids, ordered us to stay in the house, grabbed her winter coat, and raced out to the riverbank. She crawled on her stomach to where Mike was flailing in the freezing water, about to go under. We watched in terror from the dining room window. Grabbing him under his front legs, Mother pulled the 70-pound water-logged dog out of the water, and they made it back to the riverbank and into the house. That was the day our mother became our heroine forever after. 

All 180 miles of the river’s ice went out on a single day in late March or early April, the millions of tiny chunks rubbing together and making an enormous non-stop tinkling sound. My father named it Chinese Bells Day. Every year we carved the date of Chinese Bells Day into the Norway Pine wall that separated our living and dining rooms. The flowing river snatched up flotsam and jetsam along the shore as it made its way to the mouth at Green Bay — tin cans, bottles, stuffed animals, canoe paddles, etc. I put on the hip-waders that my grandfather had used for trout fishing and stepped into the ice flow near the riverbank, trying to haul in floating items with a bamboo pole. I’d always snag a few oddities, but never any true treasures. 

Aside from Christmas, Chinese Bells Day was the most significant holiday of the year for us children. A change in our physical environment, and it signaled the transition from winter to the upcoming swimming/boating season. I left for college at 18, my parents sold the river house in the early seventies, and I never experienced Chinese Bells Day in person again. Though we now live 600 miles away, I do still celebrate Chinese Bells Day in my mind every year at this time. 

Love, 

Dave

OO LA LA, SPRING IS HERE

 

Dear George, 

It's hard to believe but our long winter is finally coming to an end. The wall lizards have returned to our patio, yellow and violet wildflowers are popping up on our lawn, and we've enjoyed a week of weather in the seventies. A boost to the spirits. 

Our last several weeks have been dominated by Katja's stomach surgery. She woke with severe pain on a Friday morning, saw the doctor, and was rushed to Emergency and then to surgery. The operation took from ten p.m to one a.m. The surgeon was elated afterward. When I asked if it were non-serious, he shook his hesd and said they had been very scared. I'm glad I didn't ask beforehand. As I understand it, her small intestine got twisted from prior scar tissue and was blocking her digestive tract. Katja spent eight days in the hospital. She was happiest when I brought her her own pillow from home and chocolate pastries fron United Dairy Farmer. 

Iko and I did all right at home alone. I liked being in charge of things, like not playing the radio all night and turning the lights off when I left the room. The biggest problem was Iko's sleeping arrangement. He normally sleeps in our bed, but he will only let Katja lift him up to be there. If I try, he gets very agitated and tries to bite me, having drawn blood a half dozen times. So he slept in his bed on the floor (and didn't seem too bothered by it). Worst of all, when Katja came home, she wasn't allowed to lift more than ten pounds, so Iko is still confined to his own lonely bed. 

My biggest problem these days is my computer. I am writing this on my iPad because my computer has been in the repair shop for six weeks. The guy keeps telling me it will be ready any day, but that hasn't happened to date. I'm tired of going over there, so I'm sticking with the iPad. I just hope I haven't lost everything in my computer files. 

The worst thing, of course, is the new administration. In my view, everything they have done to date is a disaster.  I don’t want these politicos to ruin my remaining years.  It's hard to believe they've only been in office for two months -- it feels like two years. When my father was in his seventies, he got so fed up with national politics that he decided to not listen to or read the news. I thought that was a mistake at the time, but now I'm of like  mind. I haven't watched TV news or listened to the radio for six weeks or more. I do scan the daily New York Times, but that's about it. 

I've also been distressed by my friend Bill F’s recent death. Bill and I came to the university about the same time in the late 1960's, and we've been friends for over half a century, most recently taking the form of occasional lunches and catching up at Ruth's Parkside Restaurant. Bill was very bright and had a dry sense of humor. He's enjoyed boing a sculptor in his retirement. I'll miss him. 

One of my poetry classmates showed me the heart icon on my Apple iPhone where my daily steps are recorded. I had read in the newspaper that 6,000 to 8,000 steps a day are prescribed for my age group, and I was dismayed that I was only averaging 4,000. Having a numerical record is very motivating to me, and I've started walking Iko more and doing zumba to a YouTube video at home. I'm averaging 6,200 steps per day and hope to get up to 8.000 soon. 

All in all, we're doing well. Katja's recovery is proceeding normally, my annual physical was fine, and we're enjoying spring break from our OLLI classes. We miss our family but hope to get together in the summer. 

Love, 

Dave

THE ELECTRIC BIKE

 Dear George,

I’m still befuddled.  Weeks ago I noticed a gigantic cardboard box on our front porch. “Electric Bike” was marked on the side. ‘Clearly a delivery mistake’ I thought to myself. But there was my wife Katja’s name and our home address on the shipping label. What can this be?  Who is this for?

Confused and grumpy all day, I finally asked about the box at the dinner table.  “It’s my new bike,” Katja said proudly.  “I bought it for my Christmas present.  I won’t be driving the car any more. I’ll go everywhere on my bike.”

I was in a state of shock.  Katja grew up in center city Philadelphia and has never ridden a regular bike.  How would she learn to ride an electric bike?  “It’s so easy,” Katja said.  “You just get on and push a button.”

I don’t feel I can tell Katja what to do, but I thought this was a terrible idea.  I’ve long been frightened for the college students who ride electric bikes on our street where drivers regularly go 40 miles per hour.  And I couldn’t imagine where Katja would go. Her main shopping destinations are Rookwood Commons and Kenwood Towne Centre, both many miles away.  “Yes, I‘ll go to Rookwood. There are lots of bike paths.”  I explained how dangerous I felt it would be and how I would live in mortal terror every time she went out.  

Katja mulled it over for hours. I think my expression of abject fear hit home. Much to her credit, she finally decided to send the bike back.   Though I felt like the Grinch who stole Christmas, I breathed a sigh of relief.  The UPS guy came the next week, and the bike is now back home in California.  Katja is still sad about this. But how many retired oldies do you see riding electric bikes about town?  My wife, a living legend. 

Love,

Dave

A PRETTY STRANGE (BUT TERRIFIC) VISIT

 
Dear George, 

Our son Justin came up from New Orleans for the three-day Martin Luther King Jr. weekend. His kids, Alex and Leo, now 16, were home alone, the first time they’d done that other than a one-night stay, but Justin was confident they’d do fine. On Saturday we did the thrift shops, the Clifton Cultural Arts Center (“Fiber is Art”), and the new Tony Trabert Indoor Tennis Complex at Walnut Hills High, plus lunch at Skyline Chili, and dinner at Seasons 52 (Chilean sea bass for Justin, rainbow trout for Katja, and butterfish for me). On Sunday Justin went to the gym, then had brunch with friends. He and I went to the art museum but couldn't get into the Anselm Adams exhibit in its final day. 

Monday morning Justin had coffee with his cousin Chris, and we dropped him off at the airport at noon for his return home. However, his flight to New Orleans was cancelled, and he took an Uber back to our house at 5 p.m. He called the kids. They seemed to be managing all right. 

On Tuesday Justin had made a new flight reservation, but, because of the record-breaking Southern storm, all flights to and from New Orleans were cancelled. We did more thrift shops, watched “The Edge of War” with Jeremy Irons. Alex was sick, and Justin was very worried, but they had no fever and felt better by the next day. 

On Wednesday Justin had scheduled his third flight home but it too was cancelled. He met Katja’s pain doctor, visited his cousin Chris and his family, and we watched “American Primeval” and “The Stranger”. 

On Thursday Justin finally got a nonstop flight to New Orleans on Allegiant. Of course, it too was promptly cancelled. We had lunch at Ruth's Parkside Cafe, dinner at Biaggio’s, and watched “The Conclave” on Amazon. 

On Friday, four days later than planned, Justin made a reservation with American Airlines, and, miracle of miracles, it actually took off. The kids had eaten nothing but pasta and beans all week long, so he encouraged them to go out to a restaurant for lunch. Katja and I bought some booze at the Party Source and headed home. I missed Justin, but Katja was happy that he was getting back to the children. He was a great help to us around the house, and, as always, we found it a joy to be together. Since we got to say goodbye five days in a row it was a one-of-a-kind visit. 

 Love, 

 Dave

CHRISTMAS IN MANHATTAN

 Dear George, 

In our younger married years Katja and I regularly spent the holidays with Ami and Bruce, her sister and brother-in-law, in their Upper West Side condo in New York City. Many happy memories, though it’s been a long time since we’ve done this together. This year it was time for a return trip, and we arrived for an 8-day stay on December 23rd. Here are a few of the highlights. 

AMI AND BRUCE’S. Ami and Bruce live in the penthouse of a high-rise on Riverside Drive at 94th Street in the Upper West Side. They’d redecorated since I’d been there, the walls displaying Ami’s art photo collection, new black leather sofas, a handsome rug. Their balcony overlooks the Hudson, and you can see all the way down to the financial district. Broadway is two blocks to the east with its plethora of markets, shops, elegant restaurants, and Zabars. We felt like real Upper West Siders. 

TAYLOR. During their fifty plus years of marriage Ami and Bruce have always had German Shepherds to whom they've been totally devoted. Taylor is the most sociable of their many dogs. He particularly took to Katja and liked to give her sloppy kisses on her nose. Taylor is getting older and is plagued by arthritis, but he still looks forward to his daily walks in Riverside Park. He lay down in the hallway entrance and didn't bother to move when I tried to make my way through. Clearly in charge. 

TAP AND GO. Public transportation has changed in the city. Now on buses and subways you can tap your credit card on a screen in order to enter. I must admit the technology was a bit beyond me. When I couldn’t make it work after several tries on the M5 bus, a generous woman behind me paid for me with her credit card. I was somewhat more successful in the subway, though I usually had to try 3 or 4 turnstiles before I got to “go”. I got a distinct feeling that I am older than I used to be. 

THE CRAFT FAIR.  On the day before Christmas Katja, Ami, and I went to a gigantic craft fair at Bryant Park on 42nd Street.  There were probably 200 vendors in wooden covered stalls, all featuring high-quality merchandise.  About half of New York City was also there.  Katja bought 2 attractive Tibetan shawls.  I looked but didn't buy.  When I tried to go to the park restroom there were 60 people in line.  

A JEWISH CHRISTMAS. Nearly all the city’s museums were closed for Christmas Day, but the Jewish Museum on the Upper East Side was one exception so we went there. There were multiple enjoyable art exhibits. Our favorite was a two-artist show featuring Philip Guston, a Jewish artist who addressed anti-semitism with cartoon-like paintings of the KKK, along with Trenton Doyle Hancock, an African-American artist who explored racism a generation later with cartoon drawings of the KKK. 

HIKING ON BROADWAY. Ami made a delicious Christmas dinner of pork loin, special potatoes, salad, and lemon meringue pie. After dinner I took a hike on Broadway from 94th Street to 72nd Street and back, some 50 blocks. I’d done this on most trips in the past, but I wasn’t as spry as I used to be and wound up with bothersome leg cramps. Broadway was quieter than usual, but at least a dozen eateries were open for business. Two Hasidic men asked me if I were Jewish, but I said I wasn’t. A panhandler asked for a handout, but I shook my head, then felt like Scrooge since it was Christmas night after all. A middle-aged woman on 94th Street was more demanding, saying she'd beat me up if I didn't give her money, but I just picked up my pace. 

SOLO EXCURSIONS. On our third day Katja became very sick, a condition which was later diagnosed as a combination of pneumonia and the flu. She was bedbound much of the time, and Ami encouraged me to take in the city on my own. I went to the Museum of the City of New York which had exhibits of graffiti, Shirley Chisholm, and NYC postcards (which I especially enjoyed because I own a lot of them in my own collection). The main public library at 42nd and 5th Ave. was wonderful as usual, especially with its exhibit on early 20th century Bohemian culture in Greenwich Village (William Carlos Williams, Edna St. Vincent Millay, e.e. cummings, Man Ray, Emma Goldman, John Reed, Dylan Thomas, Eugene O’Neill, Edward Hopper, and many others). It was hard to imagine all that talent concentrated in a single city neighborhood. 

BROADWAY MUSICAL. As her Christmas present, Ami bought us tickets to “Death Becomes Her” on Broadway. This was definitely a highlight of our trip. It’s so wonderful to see a Broadway musical in person. The singing was grand, and the dancing was sensational. We left light in heart. 

LOST IN MIDTOWN. Katja likes to take the bus rather than the subway to midtown and back, so we left the theater and started looking for the M5 Broadway bus. Seventh Avenue was totally crowded, shoulder to shoulder. After walking for a block or two, I turned to check with Katja who had been walking behind me, but she wasn’t there. Just hordes of people in every direction I looked. I raced back a full block but she wasn’t anywhere along the way; then I tried the opposite direction with no better result. I was just panicked, worried for Katja since I was the person who usually got us from one place to another. I tried calling on my cell phone about 20 times, but only got her voicemail. I realized that she’d turned the ringer off at the theater. It took a long time but I did finally reach Katja by phone. She was three blocks away. I hurried there and was amazed at how unflustered she was. A truly urban person. 

A FAMILY PARTY. Ami hosted a party for relatives and friends who were in the city: our son Justin and grandkids Alex and Leo; Justin’s sister-in-law Jayme and her nephew Conrad; our nephew Jacob and his daughter Delphine; and Ami’s friend Jean. We enjoyed a delicious dinner and lots of chitchat. I sort of conked out in the middle, went upstairs, and promptly fell asleep. Bruce said afterwards that we have a delightful family. Kata’s illness put a crimp on our vacation and what we were able to do, though we still had a very pleasant time being with Ami and Bruce. She saw her doctor when we came back to Cincinnati, and the doctor promptly hospitalized her for four days. A scary time. Now she’s 95% or better, and we've just been taking it easy, snowed in by a big storm. 

 Love, 

 Dave