THRIFT STORE MANIA

Dear George, 

I can’t remember when my passion for thrift stores began. The closest thing in my childhood was when my dad came back from the war. Though he had his law degree, his practice was just beginning, and he had very few clients. Hence, our family had very little income. To save money, we moved to the unfurnished cottage that my grandfather had built shortly before his death out of town on the Menominee River. Every now and then I would get my red wagon and my dad and I would walk the half mile up Riverside Boulevard to the City Dump in order to find furnishings for our new house. This was the most exciting father-son activity of my young life. While he retrieved household items (e.g., broken furniture, worn kitchen utensils), I collected soda bottle caps (a remarkable variety being available back in the forties). I definitely was convinced at an impressionable age of the wonder and value of discarded, secondhand items. 

Nowadays our nearest thrift shore is about two miles away in Winton Place. I visit perhaps once a month. I was excited when they recently opened up a discount warehouse store a block away. As an employee explained, the second store is the “end of the line.” It’s all the stuff that wouldn’t sell in the regular store and is purportedly being given away at bargain basement prices. It’s much more popular than the main store. All of the merchandise is piled into one or another of about sixty huge bins, each holding about 80 cubic feet of cast-offs. Everything is sold by the pound: clothing, toys, electronics, and odds and ends for $1.09 a pound; books for 49 cents. Most of the customers are busy searching through the clothing bins. However, it’s the books and odds and ends that appeal to me. Stuffed animals, toys and games, records and CDs, tableware, office supplies, Xmas lights, baseball caps, artwork, just about everything one might need or desire. On my first visit I filled my shopping basket with miscellaneous treasures including a 1966 Columbia Encyclopedia yearbook (the year I came to Cincinnati). The book was admittedly heavy, but, even so, I was shocked at the cash register to learn that I was being charged $2.35. Since hardback books at the “up-scale” thrift store next door cost $1.00 apiece, the so-called discount price struck me as way out of line. 

I went home and stewed about this for the rest of the day. Finally I took 10 average-sized hardbound books off our bookshelf and weighed them. The average book weighed 2.4 pounds, meaning it would cost $1.18 at the discount warehouse. Convinced of the injustice of my purchase, I wrote a letter to the manager, conveying this information and arguing that it was unfair for the discount warehouse to sell books, on average, for 18 cents more than the “main” store charges. I suggested that 39 cents a pound would be more fair. Even 29 cents would be reasonable for a discount thrift store. I didn’t hear back right away, but I assumed that the price per pound for books would have been lowered by the time of my next visit. Disappointingly it wasn’t. The manager, despite several months to consider the matter, still hasn’t replied to my carefully thought out, helpful and persuasive letter. While discouraged, I do still buy books at the warehouse. But I’m careful to only choose their less weighty offerings. 

Love, 

Dave

ANXIETIES

Dear George, 

 Between the volatile international situation, the ups and downs of the pandemic, and daily Republican atrocities, the world is becoming increasingly unpredictable and dangerous, and my sense is that these macroscopic tensions are filtering down to the nitty gritty details of our personal lives. In my own case, I’ve come to feel more and more that the entire world around me is disintegrating. Here are a few examples. 

The End of Musical Parking. When we go to the symphony, there are two main parking garages. One, directly across from Music Hall costs $15, and the second, behind Music Hall on Central Parkway is $10. Needless to say, we always park at the latter. On our last visit we were shocked to find that, despite being an hour early, the sign at our parking garage entrance said FULL. We pulled in anyway, and the attendant explained that it was opening night for the professional soccer team down the street, and their patrons had taken up all the spaces. Dismayed, we went to the more expensive garage, but they too were FULL. Though against my principles, I decided to use Valet Parking for $20. No luck, the valet guy said; they were restricted to a total of 10 spaces for pre-paid customers because of the soccer game. Likewise, all of the open-air parking lots in the vicinity were full. After some cogitation, I dropped Katja off to go to the symphony by herself, returned home, and came back two hours later to pick her up. Not only did my $90 ticket go to waste, but I anticipate this being a regular problem in the future. 

Demented Driving. I was backing our of our driveway a few weeks ago when I heard a loud thud and my car came to an abrupt stop. I looked in the mirror and discovered I’d backed into a pickup truck that was waiting for the traffic light to change. I couldn’t believe it. I’ve backed out of that driveway a thousand times without incident. I suspect I was looking right and left but not behind me. The pickup driver was miffed and unpleasant. He said he’d paid $50 thousand dollars for his truck, and he planned to keep it in mint condition. We discovered a small scratch at the bottom of his front door which he said was my fault. He asked for my insurance info, but I said I preferred to pay out of pocket. He was on his way to Northside and said he would go to the body shop and get an estimate. He didn’t call back that day, nor did he call the next. In my mind, I imagined he was searching around for an estimate that would involve replacing his entire door at a cost of several thousand dollars. Weeks later he still hasn’t called. My rational mind tells me that he won’t ever be calling for a minor scratch that probably wasn’t even my fault. However, my lizard mind still goes into a state of panic whenever the phone rings. 

Insane Driving. While my fender bender involved a speed of 2 or 3 miles per hour, the drivers on the major street in front of our house, Ludlow Avenue, have gone insane during the pandemic, regularly reaching speeds of 50 to 60. There are at least six places on our block where tire tracks on the lawn indicate that cars have careened off the roadway, sometimes knocking over lamp posts, fire hydrants, or sections of front porches. Wary that our sidewalk is now a battlefield, I’ve taken to walking our dog Iko on the back streets. 

Uninvited Guests. I was annoyed a couple of years ago when our insurance company insisted that we trim the oak tree next to our house to keep animals from climbing up and getting into the house. We did have some trimming done, but apparently not enough since we’ve started hearing loud thumping noises from our attic. These are large animals — not squirrels or chipmunks. In my mind I envision small black bears, but raccoons or opossums are a more likely possibility. Following a suggestion from the Internet, I started playing WLW talk radio loudly in the attic. This seemed to help for a few days, but now the thumping has resumed. As an Upper Peninsula guy, I’m mildly comfortable with sharing our house with wildlife, but I remain nervous about the potential destruction. 

Miscellany. There are so many other sources of anxiety in my life that it’s hard to list them all. All our services have become unreliable. Many days we get no mail, newspaper delivery is haphazard, and sometimes we get no trash pickup. My spouse forgets to lock the car door and the patio door, leaving us vulnerable to the many burglars who are roaming about our neighborhood. We lost HBO MAX for a week for no reason, our bedroom TV has stopped showing any programs, and my word-processing program on the computer is acting up so that I’ve decided to never close it. Gas and food prices have shot up. Perhaps because of the food shortages hordes of little crawling bugs visit our kitchen counter and sink late at night. Our gardener billed us a thousand dollars for raking leaves in the autumn and winter. My triglycerides are much too high. The dog sporadically gets diarrhea. On top of all this, because of my advanced age my doctor won’t give me the tranquilizer I’ve relied on for years. I am hopeful that we can just come to accept that the world is crumbling around us and manage to carry on despite it all.

Love, 

Dave

Best Cincinnati News Stories of 2020

Dear George, Having grown up in a small town of about 10,000 (and a “metro” area of 25,000), I now live in a place where there’s about 100 times as many people and, consequently, 100 times as many amazing, weird, horrible, and heartwarming news stories. I keep track of these during the year and select the “best” (i.e.,quirkiest) at year’s end. I think, because of the pandemic and most people sheltering in place, 2020 may not have been as newsworthy as most years. At least it wasn’t in our household. However, here are some stories that should tickle one’s fancy. Love, Dave

PCH SCAM Lavernia Jilson and her mom Anna Willcox were thrilled when they got a letter from Publisher’s Clearing House saying that Anna had won $3 million. The letter explained that she would receive the $3 million in the next few weeks. Till then PCH was sending a $6,000 check to cover her insurance and attorney fees. Following instructions, Williams deposited the $6,000 check in her PNC bank account and sent $5,000 of it to the “attorneys”. Days later the bank reported that the $6,000 PCH check was no good, that Williams had overdraft fees, and that she would have to return $5,000 to them before she could access her account. Since Williams has no money, she is praying that the bank can help her with the $5,000 she sent off. (wcpo.com, 1-3-20; note: pseudonyms used throughout )

TOILET PAPER ROBOT Procter & Gamble previewed new inventions at the 2020 Consumer Electronics Show. The star of the show, created by the Charmin division, was a little robot called the RollBot. When you are sitting on the toilet and find yourself short of toilet paper, you can use your smartphone to activate RollBot, and he/she/it will roll in and bring you a fresh roll. (barrons.com, 1-5-20)

SEX OFFENDER BROUHAHA AT THE UNIVERSITY Former Title IX coordinator Andie Golderg has brought a sex discrimination suit against the university after she publicly addressed the university’s honoring a sex offender graduate with a “triumph cord” for overcoming adversity. According to Goldberg, her investigation “threatened to cause significant embarrassment” to the university and its upper level administrators. The student in question was convicted as a sex offender at a prior school and reportedly was accused by 11 victims. Students at the university wrote, “let’s not support rapists in 2019.” Goldblum’s supervisor said that she was asked to resign because of insubordination. (cincinnati.com, 1-8-20)

SILENT BOOK CLUB Cincinnati’s first silent book club, likely to appeal to introverts, has begun meeting at the Taste of Belgium in Over-the-Rhine. The idea was started by two friends in 2012 who didn’t like traditional book clubs and who met to read in companionable silence at a neighborhood bar. Book lovers are invited to the Cincinnati chapter to bring their own book and read in silence. Everyone is welcome. (wlwt.com, 1-11-20)

RUNNING MUSIC FESTIVAL The nation’s first running music festival will be held at Cincinnati’s Coney Island Amusement Park. The fun run includes a music-filled course with live DJs, light shows, bubble zones, and neon and black lights. It’s not a timed race, and participants can decide to run, walk, skip, or dance. Once they cross the finish line, there will be a party at the main stages which will include lights, fog, confetti, and giveaways. (wlwt.com, 1-22-20)

FIONA’S SUPER BOWL PREDICTION Our zoo arranged for its famous young hippo, three-year-old Fiona, to make a prediction for the Super Bowl. Presented with two enrichment items, one with a Kansas City Chiefs logo and one with a San Francisco Forty-Niners log, Fiona nuzzled the Chiefs item but then promptly vomited on it. The zoo concluded that her prediction is clear: Team San Francisco. (cincinnati.com, 1-31-20)

LOST HOODIE When Harvel Girdner, age 32 of Northside, lost his hoodie, he called police 25 times to get their help in finding it, using different locations for police to respond to. When the police arrived each time, Girdner asked them for a ride around town to try to locate his hoodie. Determining that he was intoxicated, police suggested that he go to bed, but he was arrested after the 25th call. (cincinnati.com, 2-3-20)

GOOD SEX Cincinnati ranked number four in the nation in Men’s Health Magazine’s list of most sexually satisfied cities, just behind neighboring Indianapolis. Columbus, and Fort Wayne. The rankings are based on birth rates, condom and sex toy sales, and STD rates. The news report doesn’t clarify whether high or low STD rates are counted toward sexual satisfaction. (local12.com, 2-15-20)

DRUNK WITH GUNS Greater Cincinnati resident, Furdie Webber, 50, of Clermont County brought a case to the Ohio Supreme Court to carry and shoot firearms when drunk. Weber’s wife called 911 when he was drunk with a shotgun, and police came and confiscated it. Weber said that is a violation of his 2nd amendment rights. His lawyer posted on Facebook that the Colonists were probably drunk when they faced the British in battle. (cincinnati.com, 2-20-20)

GUNSHOTS IN BETHEL The police in Bethel, a small village in nearby Clermont County, received two reports of gunshots in Bethel. At 4:30 on Tuesday a man called from Skyline Chili, stating that four people in a white sedan had shot him. Police determined that he was “suffering some type of psychotic episode.” Six hours later a woman told dispatchers she had been shot in the shoulder. When police arrived they determined that she had been bitten by some type of insect. She was treated and released. (cincinnati.com, 2-20-20)

KILLED THE GOAT TOO Russell Hendly III, 49, of nearby Carlisle is accused of trespassing into his next door neighbor’s garage, stealing their truck, doing donuts on their front lawn, and strangling the family’s pet goat to death. When deputies found Henderson naked in the truck with the radio playing at full volume, he explained that he did it because God instructed him to do so. (wsmemory.com, 3-12-20)

SEX TOY BOOM With multiple states announcing stay-at-home orders because of the coronavirus, Cincinnati-based Pure Romance reports that its sex toy sales are up 88 percent this week compared to a year ago. What else are people to do when they’re stuck at home. Maybe we’ll see the baby boom that health officials have been talking about. (cincinnati.com, 3-27-20)

SORE LOSER After an undisclosed number of drinks, Carter Zimmerly, 55, of Florence, KY, challenged his juvenile son to an arm-wrestling contest. After multiple arm-wrestling losses, Zimmerly became agitated, got his gun, and fired two shots into the ceiling. The house was surrounded by several SWAT teams, but Zimmerly refused for eight hours to surrender. Finally he was taken to a local hospital for evaluation. (cincinnati.com, 7-6-20)

BAD STYLING JOB Alysia Jeckson, 20, of Winton Hills came to North College Hill to have her hair done by Danica Thomas, 20. Jackson became “extremely upset with how her hair had been styled,” left the house, got into her car, and drove into the yard, striking Thomas who “flew backwards into the air” and hit the ground, causing injuries to her back and legs. Jeckson fled the scene and was arrested two days later. Thomas has been released from the hospital, but she has trouble walking and will need physical therapy. (cincinnati.com, 9-1-20)

COWS ON THE LOOSE Three cows got loose from a farm in the area and wandered onto the highway, closing westbound Interstate 74 to northbound I-275. Area police spent a couple of hours trying to corral the cows who were eating on the highway median. A police officer commented, “Honestly, they probably would have been fine if we had kept going, but the last thing we want is someone to hit a cow.” (cincinnati.com, 12-2-20)

MONKEY SLAVE LABOR PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) dumped a truckload of cocoanuts at Kroger headquarters in downtown Cincinnati. They are asking Kroger to stop doing business with a Thai brand that uses chained monkey slave labor to pick coconuts used in its coconut milk products. A spokesperson said, “These monkeys are denied everything that makes their lives worth living.” (citybeat.com, 12-3-20)

WORLD’S WORST SITTER The FBI arrested 29-year-old Ryan McDonald for possessing and transporting child pornography. The FBI discovered McDonald through a messenger group called “Toddlers”, members of which exchanged hundreds of videos and images of child rape. McDonald has actively sought work as a babysitter over the last decade, posting ads n SitterCity.com, care.com, and craigslist.org. Currently he was communicating with a Louisville family to provide childcare. (cincinnati.com, 12-8-20)

TOGETHERNESS FOREVER Police arrested husband and wife Robert Rickson, 35, and Kanya Stalworthy, 39, on charges of abusing a corpse. Police found the corpse of a man in their apartment who had died about 10 weeks ago. The couple placed clothing over the body, sealed the room he was in, and used a spray to try to cover up the smells. Thus far the police have not identified who the man is, although Stalworthy’s son, Dominic, 19, has not been seen since the date of the death. (cincinnati.com, 12-8-20)

Everyday Foibles: Creeping Dementia

Dear George, I keep a file on my computer called “Everyday Foibles”, and I try to add at least one item a week that describes some funny or quirky happening I’ve experienced. My most frequent categories seem to be: medical, marriage, technology confusion, hearing problems, being cheap, and senior moments. Here are a few of the latter. I used to worry about losing my mind, but then it dawned on me that I’ve had a tenuous connection to reality most of my life. Love, Dave FADING MEMORIES I went out to lunch at the burger joint the other day with my retired colleagues, Bill and Norris. Norris said we were like the ROMEO’s, and he recounted being out with a group of retirees when a woman came up and gave them that name: “Retired Old Men Eating Out.” We all chuckled. Then Norris went to the men’s room, and Bill and I started talking about working out. Bill said that every night he does exercises with 3-lb. weights while watching Vanna White on TV. Both of us got stuck trying to remember the name of the show. “It’s not Jeopardy…It’s…It’s…It’s…” But we couldn’t get it. Norris came back, and we told him we couldn’t remember the name of Vanna’s and Pat Sajack’s show. Norris scoffed and shook his head as if we’d totally lost it. “It’s The Price is Right,” he blurted out. The moment he said it, he knew he was wrong. Norris corrected himself – “The Wheel ofFortune” – but he was too late to redeem himself. Everybody laughed some more. TYLENOL MEMORY TEST Katja asked me to pick up some Tylenol at CVS, and, as I scanned the various options at the store, it occurred to me that it wasn’t that long since Tylenol had been completely banned from the market. I could still visualize the empty shelf space. Now, it finally seems, they’ve finally come back full force. Back home I told Katja that they now have a full stock of Tylenol, though it’s probably taken 5 or 6 years to recover. Katja scoffed and said they banned Tylenol back in the 1980’s and it’s been available for many years. Finding that ridiculous, I googled “Tylenol history”. It turns out that the product had been pulled from the shelves in 1982, nearly 40 years ago. I can still see the empty shelf space as if it were yesterday. I wonder if my entire memory is in a state of collapse. MY VALUABLES When I came into the bedroom Katja was frantic. Drawers opened, boxes all over the floor. She explained that some of her jewelry wasmissing. I pointed out that our cleaning lady crew has had had several different helpers recently, but Katja didn’t think that was the problem. Then I suggested that she might get a lock box and keep her valuable jewelry in it. Again, she was unimpressed. “I keep could my valuables locked up too,” I added. Katja said I don’t have any valuables. “Yes I do,” I countered. In my mind, I started thinking about my valuables. Maybe my cuff links. My big toe nail clipper. Then it came to me, and I blurted it out: “My Swiss Army Knife!” END-STAGE DIZZINESS For the past few weeks I’ve been feeling dizzy every now and then. A friend asked if my blood pressure was low, so I’ve been keeping aneye on it. The doctor had increased my BP medication a while back,and lately it’s lower than it’s ever been. So maybe the medicationwas taking hold (too well). I looked it up on the Internet and sideeffects of BP medication was a plausible explanation for dizziness. The other ones that caught my eye much more, though, were (1) brain tumors and (2) bleeding inside the brain. Those causes seemed more likely. When I brush my teeth these days, I watch in the mirror for blood to come out of my ears. If no blood comes out by tomorrow, then I’ve probably got a brain tumor. These are just the horrible facts of life, and I’m trying to accept my terminal fate gracefully. I’M NOT LOSING MY MIND (DO YOU THINK?) The other day on my way to the fitness center I stopped at the Family Dollar store to buy some pooper-scooper bags. On my way home I realized I didn’t have my sunglasses. I stopped back at the Family Dollar store, but they didn’t have them. The next day I checked at the reception desk at the fitness center, and, happily, my glasses were sitting there waiting for me. Then today I left the fitness center, but, when I got in my car, I realized that I was missing my sunglasses again. I went back to the desk, but the woman working there hadn’t seen them. Then she looked at me again and pointed at my baseball cap on my head. I reached up, and there were my sunglasses where I’d stuck them for safekeeping. I blushed deeply and said, “Oh please don’t tell anybody,” and the woman smiled and promised she wouldn’t. TOO MUCH SMILING (OR MAYBE TOO LITTLE) The other day I woke up with some facial pain on both my right and left cheekbones. I didn’t remember ever experiencing that before, and it was puzzling. Each time I smiled, I could feel the muscles moving in the very spots that were irritated. I decided my symptoms must be a result of smiling too much. Later that day I told a friend about my symptoms, and she said that it was probably due to not enough smiling. That was an interesting alternative. I liked my interpretation better, though I couldn’t recall smiling enough to injure myself. The next day the pain had moved up to my forehead. I told Katja about it, and she said it was probably sinuses. I said I didn’t have any sinuses in my forehead, but she said I did. But today the pain has gone away, so it doesn’t matter any more. However, I plan to not smile for two or three weeks to avoid a recurrence.

Daffy Horoscopes

Dear George,

I have been thinking about going back to work as a horoscope writer.  As you know, I’ve been taking lots of poetry classes, and recently I discovered that horoscopes are known as the “poetry of astrology”.   I would have to learn some astrology, of course, since horoscopes are based on the positions of the sun, moon, and stars.  But poetic talents also enter in, since the best horoscopes are mysterious and titillating.  Our local newspaper, like most, publishes horoscopes every day, and I’ve been keeping track of my favorites for a while.  Here are some of the horoscopes I find most inspiring.

Love,

Dave 

ARIES (Mar. 21 - Apr. 19):  Your life tears off from the form, circling back to offer you a choice.   

TAURUS (Apr. 20 - May 20):  You may find yourself keeping an eye on things that don’t even exist.    

GEMINI (May 21 - June 21): There are many ways to capture in your heart the life inside of life.     

CANCER (June 22 - July 22):  The universe is expanding at a rate that few agree on.  

LEO (July 23 - Aug. 22):  The answer is no to 100% of the questions that are never asked. 

VIRGO (Aug. 23 - Sept. 22): Your love is not a bubble that will pop when it smacks upon a sharp reality. 

LIBRA (Sept. 23 - Oct. 23):  The stumbling, bumbling, dropping and spilling — that’s the way of the living. 

SCORPIO (Oct. 24 - Nov. 21):  Something inter dimensional is occurring within. 

SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22 - Dec. 21): Wherever the stuff was, there’s usually more there. 

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22 - Jan. 19):  If you mapped out all you saw, it would be but a tiny dot next to the map of all you never saw.  

AQUARIUS (Jan. 20 - Feb. 18):  Facts don’t get to be facts just by showing up factually.  

PISCES (Feb. 19 - Mar. 20): A systematic approach may discount the intelligence in you that doesn’t speak to logic.   

Marital Meetings: My Brilliant Idea

Dear George,

Katja and I seem to be in a state of lethargy.  We’ve started our OLLI courses at the university, but, aside from that, we haven’t managed to go anywhere or do anything for some time.  I’m worried that this time is going to slip by and we won’t have done anything.  

Given that we have been married for 58 years, this inaction probably isn’t too surprising.  For my senior paper at Antioch as a Psychology major, I wrote about research on interpersonal communication.  I don’t remember too much about my paper, but one study has stood out in my mind all these years.  Researchers somewhere — I think in the northeast — placed microphones in every room in middle class married couples homes that were activated every time that anyone talked.  They discovered that, on average, married couples talked to one another about six minutes a day.  I can’t remember for sure whether they used years of marriage as a variable or not, but my vague sense is that, the longer the marriage, the less the talk.  (I did run across a recent British study that found that couples married fifty years or more only talked three minutes per hour while dining together at a restaurant.)   

I’d like to believe that Katja and I talk more than five minutes a day, but I wouldn’t be willing to bet money on it.  We’ve pretty much staked out different parts of the house as our territories.  Katja owns the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, the den, and the bedroom, where she’s busy either doing tasks, watching TV, or napping.  I spend most of my time in our two rooms that have computers — our son J’s former bedroom and what I affectionately refer to as my junk room.  We do get together for one or two meals a day, but Katja usually does a Jumble while I work on a Sudoku puzzle or read the depressing New York Times editorials.  

The other day I came up with an idea that marriages can be rejuvenated by having “Marital Meetings”.  I got this idea while watching a trailer for a TV sitcom where the mother told the kids to get ready for the family meeting.  I guess family meetings are pretty common.  I don’t know if anybody’s ever thought of a marital meeting before, but it seems like a logical extension.  I haven’t told Katja about this yet, but I have been mentally working on this idea.  The mission would be to improve our marriage by actually talking to one another.  Marital meetings could be done more frequently or less, of course, but I think a weekly meeting would be about right.  It would be good to have it for a fixed time.  Right now I’m thinking of 7:30 on Sunday night.  We’ll have had dinner and a glass of wine.  We’d be excited because it’s just before The Durrells on Corfu on PBS.  That means we would need to stop by 8:00.  I think that should be plenty.  

All committee meetings have to have a leader, and this would be true of marital meetings too.  Perhaps we’ll have an election.  Katja’s much more talkative than I, so perhaps she should be the leader.  On the other hand, it might be sensible for the quieter partner to have that job.  In any case, we’ll work that out.  The leader, of course, is responsible for compiling an agenda.  Both persons can contribute, and this should be done in advance of the meeting and publicly announced, perhaps by posting it on the refrigerator.  Some agenda items that I already have in mind: going over the local recycling rules; agreeing that the thermostat ought to be set at 73 for air conditioning; discussing of why we aren’t going camping any more; cancelling all the store catalogs that come in the mail; not watching the shopping channel on TV, etc.  I’m sure these topics would all be of mutual interest, and Katja is likely to have some other ideas of her own.  

The only time that I’ve ever done anything close to a marital meeting was when I was a teenager and my father ordered my mother to hold weekly meetings with my brother Steven and I to discuss how we could get along without killing each other.  Actually I hated these meetings, and I tried to say as little as I possibly could.  My mother said that if we kept fighting all the time (or maybe she said if I kept torturing my brother all the time) we would never like one another as adults.  This, of course, did not prove to be true.  But, even though these youthful family meetings were a bust, I’m still hopeful about the prospects of marital meetings.  We are, after all, more mature (or at least I think we are).   I plan to mention this idea to Katja next week.  I think she’ll be enthusiastic.  If it works out, I will get back to you with a report.

Love,

Dave

This and That

Dear George,

We’re trying to adjust to being back home after an exciting vacation in New Orleans with our family.  We did lots of things there, and now we are suffering from some sort of post-vacation lethargy.  Partly this is because the U.S. Open has been going on for two weeks, and ESPN has been broadcasting matches daily from 11 a.m. to 12 midnight.  This is an awful lot of tennis to watch, but we have done our best, probably averaging five or six hours a day.  Basically this amounts to watching two players hit a ball back and forth across a net until one of them misses.  For us as viewers, this has amounted to about 25,000 hits so far (e.g., 4,000 serves, 11,000 forehands, 7,000 backhands, and 3,000 volleys).  You’d think that that might get boring, but, in fact, we’ve gotten more obsessed as time has gone on.  By and large, the results have been painful.  We started out rooting for our favorites, Roger Federer and Maria Sharapova.  Maria, plagued with unforced errors, lost in the round of 16, and Roger, who said he couldn’t breathe in the hot muggy New York air, played the worst match of his career in the quarter-finals.   We still had hope for Sloane Stephens and Raphael Nadal, but 3rd- seeded Sloane was soundly defeated by the 19th seed, and Rafa had to retire from his semi-final match because of tendonitis.  I’ll be relieved when the Open is over. 

When we came back from NOLA, I asked Katja to stop cooking for me since I was going to go on my Spartan weight-loss diet.  That was nine days ago, and so far I’ve lost nine pounds.  I’ve always been fairly successful losing weight when I set out to do it seriously, although I realize I will to hit a plateau any day now.  I drink lots of water and have cut back to two meals per day.  For brunch I have a few ounces of sliced turkey, some cole slaw, and some cottage cheese.  For supper, tossed salad with tuna and or cottage cheese.  I don’t actually get too hungry.  The main drawback is that I’ve been having a terrible time sleeping.  As far as I can tell from the Internet, dieting makes your body restless and it protests by staying awake.  I will try drinking a little milk before bedtime and see if that helps.

Another source of sleeplessness cropped up when Katja asked me to type and print a letter for her requesting that a California company stop sending her skin care products.  It turns out she purchased a product that she saw advertised on TV, and now they are sending her unordered products every couple of weeks.  I looked up the company on the Internet, and they immediately turned up on “Ripoff.com".  All their customers have the same complaint.  The company sends products without asking and charges $125 per shipment.  They tell people that they cannot return products and they can’t give refunds.  I, of course, have gone slightly insane, begging Katja to contact her credit card companies to cancel future payments.   At present she’s thinking about the best course of action.  

I try to find solace in writing poetry, but I’ve been suffering from writer’s block ever since our OLLI poetry workshop ended nine weeks ago.  I apparently have become dependent on the teacher to give a homework assignment before I can figure out what to write about.  Instead of anything new, I’ve been working on revising some old poems that I’d never completed.  Some of the titles are: Foul Air; The Downhill Slide; Near the Bed of Death; Night Terrors; and Narcissistic Angst.   I’ve been putting some of these on a blog called “Funny Poems Maybe”, but Katja pointed out that most aren’t that funny.  Oh well, that’s my early September report.  Now I’m off to watch the U.S. Open Women’s Final.

Love,

Dave

Age 81

Dear George,

If reincarnation turns out to be true, I hope to be a numerologist in my next go-around.  I’ve always had a thing for numbers.   In years gone by I’ve kept numerical lists of points I’ve scored in basketball games, calories consumed, golf and tennis scores, Fitbit points, blood sugar readings, and numbers of people smiling vs. not smiling on Ludlow Avenue.  As you might imagine, I’m currently intrigued by the number 81 since it’s my new age (as of this morning).  Among other things, my age is now equal to my granddaughter V’s age (9) multiplied by my grandson L’s age (9).  This means, of course, that I am the same age as 9 V’s or as 9 L’s.  Here are some other amazing facts about 81.    

The definition of Eighty-one

According to wiktionary.org, 81 is the number that comes between 80 and 82.  Merriam-Webster clarifies further that 81 is one more than 80.  These are helpful definitions.  However,  numerologists delve more deeply into spiritual meanings, reporting that 81 is “a calling from one’s angels to release the old and outworn in their life and begin looking for new beginnings and opportunities.” (35)  In 1933 columnist Walter Winchell reported that servers at soda fountains refer to a glass of water as an “eighty-one”. (31)   Urbandictionary.com, which documents more contemporary usages, says that 81 refers to a male sticking his cha-cha in between a female’s melons. (39)  [Note: numbers in parentheses refer to sources listed at the end.]

Things named “Eighty-one”

81 is the atomic number of Thalium.  It’s also the symbolic number of the Hells Angels (‘H’ and ‘A’ are the 8th and 1st letters of the alphabet).  One of Miles Davis’ jazz albums is named “Eighty-One”, as is a 1965 song by Candy and the Kisses. (41)  “Eighty-One’ is a former restaurant on the Upper West Side in NYC (28).  Finally, if you want to direct dial a phone number in Japan, 81 is the international code. (41)  

Sets of 81 things

It’s easy to think of two or four or ten items that make up a group (e.g., 10 bowling pins).  But there are also many sets of 81.  For example, there are 81 squares in a Suduko board (36), 81 episodes of Jane the Virgin (5),  81 Big Boy restaurants in the U.S. (23), 81 provinces in Turkey (41), 81 prayers in the Rosary (41), 81 home games in a major league baseball season (9), 81 three-star restaurants in the world (25), 81 police officers protecting the President of South Africa (8), 81 countries in the world in which women are a majority (2), and  81 Muslim mosques in the Dallas-Fort Worth area. (22)   Gen X (born 1972 to 1983) has 81 million members (37), and cats make up 81 million of pets in the U.S. (5)   

Age 81

On their 81st birthday people have lived 42,573,600 minutes. (38)  Life expectancy at birth is 81 years in the Netherlands, Bermuda, New Zealand, Belgium, Finland, Puerto Rico, Ireland, Germany, Greece, and the United Kingdom. (12)  54% of people in the U.S. born 81 years ago are alive today (1), and the probability of an 81-year-old man living ten to twenty more years is 37%. (17)  (This is encouraging.)  

What 81-year-olds are doing 

If you google “81 years old”, you will run across a variety of persons who are doing impressive things at age 81.  These include: a woman who power lifted 248 pounds; a Holocaust survivor who runs six miles a day, six days a week; a woman who climbed Mount Fuji in Japan; a man who finally earned his Eagle Scout rank this year; a woman who takes photos from the back of a galloping horse; and a Marinette WI native who has eaten burgers at Micky-Lu-Bar-B-Q for 75 years in a row. In addition,  British actress Judi Dench got her first-ever tattoo in 2016 at age 81, and former pro golfer Gary Player is still doing back flips off the diving board at age 81. (19, 29)

81st anniversaries

2018 is the 81st anniversary of:  the Golden Gate Bridge; the Hindenburg airship disaster; the premiere of Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs; Amelia Earhart’s disappearance; Ronald Reagan’s acting debut; Joe Louis becoming World Heavyweight Champion; the founding of the National Basketball League; and the Ohio River flood that left one million homeless.  (34)  

Ranked #81

Being ranked 81st can be a huge accomplishment.  For example, Vic Seixas, a tennis legend, is the 81st greatest tennis player in history. (41)  Other #81’s: 

• The 81st best song of all time: “Billy Jean” by Michael Jackson (1883). (6) 
• The 81st richest person in the U.S.: Victoria Mars ($6.3 billion; candy, pet food). (18) 
• The 81st best NFL player of all time: quarterback Steve Young of the San Francisco 49ers. (41)
• The 81st greatest opera of all times: I Puritani by Vincenzo Bellini. (13)
• The 81st best summer travel destination in the U.S.: Baton Rouge, Louisiana. (40)
• The 81st best standup comedian of all times: Dick Gregory. (21)
• The 81st best novel written in English: The Golden Notebook by Doris Lessing.  (32) 
• The 81st most popular dog breed in America: the Giant Schnauzer. (14)
• The 81st most nutritious food: carp (18% protein, 6% fat, 0% sugar). (4) 
• The world’s 81st highest paid entertainer: The Rolling Stones ($39 million).  (18) 
• The 81st most popular girl’s name in the U.S.: Willow. (3)

Consequential statistics: Eighty-one percent 

• 81% of white evangelicals voted for Trump in 2016. (11) 
• 81% of Americans are unable to point out the Arab region on a world map. (24) 
• Fossil fuels make up 81% of the energy market. (125) 
• 81% of American voters support reducing immigration levels. (27) 
• 81% of women experience sexism at work. (42) 
• 81% of enrollees in ObamaCare plans are satisfied with their health insurance. (33) 
• 81% of Trump’s judge nominees are male. (10) 
• California uses solar, wind, and hydro power to meet 81% of its electricity demands. (20)
• In 2010 women earned 81% of men’s average weekly earnings ($669 vs. $824).  (7)
• 81% of adults do not read “for pleasure” or on a daily basis. (30) 
• Because of FMLA restrictions, 81% of new mothers don’t qualify for the Family Medical Leave Act. (16) 

This might well be the most detailed information about 81 ever compiled, and it certainly proves that 81 is one of the best numbers ever.  It leaves me in an optimistic mood about turning 81.  I hope that we all have a special year.

Love,

Dave

SOURCES:  (1) 247wallst.com; (2) acog.org; (3) babble.com; (4) bbc.com; (5) bedtimemath.org; (6) billboard.com; (7) bis.gov; (bmj) bmj.com; (8) busineslive.co.za; (9) cbssports.com; (10) chicagotribune.com; (11) christian-research.org; (12) cia.gov; (13) digitaldreamdoor.com; (14) dogster.com; (15) energia16.com; (16) eoionline.org; (17) flowingdata.com; (18) forbes.com; (19) google.com; (20) iflscience.com; (21) imbd.com; (22) kcbi.org; (23) kfyrtv.com; (24) mena.yougov.com; (25) newyorker.com; (26) npr.org; (27) numbersusa.com; (28) nym.com; (29) scoutingwire.org (30)  tdn.com; (31) theatlantic.com; (32) theguardian.com; (33)  thehill.com; (34) thepeoplehistory.com; (35) thesecretofthetarot.com; (36) towardsdatascience.com; (37) travod.com; (38) unitconverter.io; (39) urbandictionary.com; (40) wallethub.com; (41) wikipedia.org; (42) workplaceinsight.net 

At the Cutting Edge

Dear George, 

I see from our local newspaper that Greater Cincinnati is about to get its second axe-throwing bar.  I’m embarrassed to admit that I wasn’t even aware of the first one.  Coming from Menominee, of course, there’s a history of axe-throwing that dates back to the late 1800’s when we were the world’s largest lumber port.  Lumberjack competitions still feature axe-throwing as a mainstream event.  As children, we spent most of our time throwing our hunting knives, though we did try throwing our axes from time to time.  Not at one another, but at a stump or a fallen log.  It’s hard enough to get your knife to stick into a log, much less your axe. 

I’m proud of Cincinnati for being an axe-throwing pioneer.  It attests to our ruggedness and virility.  I doubt if they have any axe-throwing bars in Savannah or Martha’s Vineyard.  The promoters are pitching this to local business organizations, recruiting corporate teams who can then compete against one another.  Probably there aren’t any corporations that actually use axe-throwing in their daily work activities, but it is another way of encouraging cutthroat attitudes and excitement about violence.  

The ads for our new bar feature lots of women.  All are white, all are in their twenties or thirties, all are beautiful, and all are having a thrilling time.  One night a week will be “Axe Your Ex” night in which participants can throw axes at a large photograph of a man.  Whether or not it’s a photo of one’s actual ex is unclear to me.  In any case, this is definitely not a male-only pasttime. 

It seems important to drink alcohol while throwing axes.  In fact, I can’t even imagine sober adults throwing axes as their leisure activity.  I do worry a little bit about the volatile combination of drinking, inter-group competition, and axe-throwing.  Reportedly there have been no known cases to date of bar patrons turning their axes on one another, but we’ll keep an eye on the news. 

I thought about asking Katja if she wanted to go to the new bar, but I don’t think she’d be that interested.  Also it’s probably not a good idea to encourage axe-throwing by your spouse (for much the same reason we don’t have a gun in the house).  Next time that our son J visits, I’ll see if he wants to go.  This seems like more of a father-son activity.

Love,

Dave