Thursday, August 21, 2014

Out and About

La Calisto, Cincinnati Opera

Dear George,
Though it’s still hot and muggy here, summer is gradually winding down.  Classes at the university start on Monday, first grade has already begun for our NOLA grandkids, and the NFL season and the US Open will be upon us before we know it.  The mid-summer highlights for us involved Cincinnati’s opera season.  Katja is an officer in the Opera Guild, the Cincinnati Opera’s fund-raising arm, and so she was immersed in a batch of activities and events, some of which she cajoled me into attending as well.  Her favorite opera this year was La Calisto; I liked Madame Butterfly best.  We both also enjoyed Carmen and Silent Night (set in a combat zone in France during World War I).  Katja, of course, is much more of an opera buff than I am, though, after forty years of accompanying her, I’ve become more and more appreciative.

The big August event for us was Cincinnati’s Western & Southern Open tennis tournament.  I’ve been going to it since it was a much smaller pro tournament in the late 1960’s.  Now it’s one of the top ten tournaments in the world, and it draws all of the leading men and women players, e.g., Roger Federer, Novak Djokovic, Serena and Venus Williams, Maria Sharapova.  Thanks to tickets from our friends Paula and Frank, we went to two evening sessions.  We were thrilled to watch Milos Raonic, seeded fifth and looking like a graphic novel superhero to me.  Federer, however, beat him in straight sets and went on to win the tournament for the sixth time.  Serena Williams won on the women’s side, her first Cincinnati title and one of the few majors that she hadn’t won over the years.  






















A couple of days later I took our sheepdog Duffy on a short camping trip to nearby Winton Woods, while his brother Mike stayed home with Katja.  What a change – from big crowds and high stimulation to peace and tranquility.  The campground is spread out in a large stand of tall, elegant pines, and our campsite was right at the edge of the lake.  Duffy was an excellent companion.  






















































We’re looking forward to Autumn.  We’ll watch a lot of the US Open and cheer for the Bengals, Saints, and Packers.  Katja is flying to California for her nephew Tyler’s wedding.  I think I may have talked her into a camping road trip with the sheepdogs at some point after that.  We’ll get the catalog for OLLI classes at the university soon. All in all, life is looking good.
Love,
Dave


Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Archive: Vic's Photos (#8)

Family portrait (1947): Vic, Peter, Dave, Steve, Vicki, Doris

Dear George,
My father, Vic L., created a wonderful photographic record during the years that we were growing up in Menominee, and my brother Peter recirculated many of Vic’s photographs to family members in the early 2000’s in the form of postcards.  I’ve been posting individual photos from Peter’s collection on my blog once a week, and here’s a batch of them in the form of an archive.  There are seven earlier archives of Vic’s photos on this blog which can be accessed by clicking on “Archives” in the “Labels” section of the righthand column.  The most frequent subjects in the photos are my mom Doris, my brothers Steven and Peter, my sister Vicki, and myself.
Love,
Dave





I’m going to guess this was taken on my brother Steve’s first birthday (2-27-42).  It would have been at our house on Ogden Ave. where our grandfather V.A. Sr., age 67, is blowing on a paper whistle.  V.A. was a gentle and kind grandfather, much loved by his grandchildren. 




Here’s Vic riding a bike on Riverside Boulevard near our house.  On the postcard containing this image, Peter wrote, “I don’t remember Vic ever riding a bike.” I’d have to agree, though here we have undeniable evidence.  Riverside Boulevard was a gravel and dirt road when we first moved there in the 1940’s, and the county blacktopped it in the early 1950’s, making for much better bike-riding. 




The Mobil gas station in Menominee was at the corner of Ogden Ave. and Highway 41 near the Courthouse.  Gas in my youth was usually 19.9 cents a gallon, but when the local stations had a gas war it could drop as low as 9.9 cents.  The only traffic light in town was at this corner.  When my high school friend Nancy D. was driving a bunch of us around in her parents’ car, she bypassed the traffic light by driving right through the gas station space.  We all screamed in mock horror.  




Jean and Margaret Worth and their kids – close friends of our family – lived on State St. in Menominee, near to the Burke’s and the St. Peters.  They had three girls – Dooley, Ann, and Jean, similar in ages to the kids in our family.  Jean Worth was the editor of the Menominee Herald-Leader and later the Escanaba Daily Press, as well as a well-known U.P. historian.  The Worths had a fantastic hunting camp in Cedar River where we enjoyed many outings with my parents’ circle of friends. 




Each year my parents brought us on a trip to Chicago where we took in the big city attractions, including the Art Institute, the Museum of Science and Industry, Lincoln Park, and the Maxwell Street Flea Market.  Here are my brother Steve and our mom Doris in a Chicago restaurant (circa 1950).  




The Ferris and Watts circus visited Menominee each summer, staging a parade through town with elephants and other wonders of the world.  The circus grounds were near the site of the present-day airport, and our family would go there shortly after dawn to watch the men and the elephants set up the tents.  




In my midteens I constructed my own private camp in the forested area of our family property between the house and Riverside Boulevard.  It had a lean-to made of Alder tree trunks, a fire pit, a table I constructed from tree branches, and various other accoutrements.  It was hidden away, and I kept its location secret, fantasizing that I would escape there if family life became unbearable.  I guess I must have invited my father and my sister Vicki to come and visit, since Vicki shows up in this photo.  I think I blindfolded them before leading them to my hideout.    




This is family friend Muriel Sawyer with one of her children.  Peter suggested that the baby is Chip, Muriel’s son.  Dick Sawyer was my Dad’s law partner, and we’d visit the Sawyers regularly at their State St. home and sometimes at their hunting camp.  I once went out with Dick and my dad on a duck-hunting expedition at dawn.  We didn’t get any ducks, but it was a memorable adventure nonetheless.   




My mom, Doris, and her close friends Jean O’Hara and Florence Caley are in the back of the Caley’s boat on Green Bay.  Peter commented on his postcard, “It was the only boat I went on as a kid, usually to Fish Creek or Ephraim where the Caleys had built a summer home on the bluff.”  




When my parents moved to their Birch Creek farm in the early 70’s, they continued to entertain friends regularly.  Here’s a lawyer and lawyer spouse group -- Margaret St. Peter, Ken Doyle, Muriel Sawyer (seated), and my mom Doris L. at the kitchen table.  



Though our U.P. small town was in a largely rural region, my parents insured that we made trips to Milwaukee and Chicago at least once or twice a year.  Here are Doris, Kevin (Kiera) O’Hara, Vicki, and Peter at a restaurant in Milwaukee.  




Peter suggests on this postcard that this friendly group is seeing our family off at the depot on a trip to Milwaukee.  From the left: my Aunt Martha, Mike and Jean O’Hara, our grandfather V.A. in the cap, an unknown man behind him, my Uncle Ralph, and probably my Uncle Kent. 




The Ann Arbor car ferry ran between Menominee and the Lower Peninsula.  This is Car Ferry #5.  When we lived in Ann Arbor, we thought about taking the car ferry across Lake Michigan many times to save on driving time, but we couldn’t afford it.  Then it shut down, and we’d missed our opportunity.




This scene is somewhere on the shore of Green Bay on a boating expedition with a group of my parents’ family friends.  From the left: Florence Caley, Bill Caley, Jean O’Hara (kneeling), probably Doris L under the bag, Mike O’Hara, and Peter guesses Mike W.  This bunch had lots of fun together for many years.  




On his postcard of this scene, Peter labeled the image “Ice Cutters” and commented: “One of the things I remember is the ice house on the Marinette side of the river up from the Paper Co. where they would store huge blocks of ice sawed out of the river & then buried in sawdust.”  They delivered ice to my grandfather’s Marinette drugstore when I worked there as a kid.   




This is Peter L., Vicki L., and Kiera in front of the Pfister Hotel in Milwaukee, about 1957 or ‘58.  Peter commented on his accompanying postcard, “The Pfister Hotel completed in 1893, cost $1.5 million, a staggering sum in opulent Victorian times.  One of America’s first electric hotels and the first in the world to have a thermostat in every room.  In 1962 it was sold to Ben Marcus at a bankruptcy auction.  He invested $12 million to return it to its former glory.”




Here’s my mom Doris with my siblings Peter and Vicki at YMCA Camp near Green Bay, probably about 1951.  They would have been visiting my brother Steve at the time because I’d graduated to Boy Scout camp by then.  I never liked going to any of these camps (too nerve-wracking being with all those strangers), but Steven was more socially adept and did better in new situations.    




I look pretty dressed up for this occasion, even sporting a handkerchief in my breast pocket.  Peter speculates on his postcard that it was my prom night (a good guess since I can’t think of any other occasion for wearing a suit in my high school years).  That’s our Irish Setter, Mickey, resting on the ground.




I missed out on my sister being a Junior Varsity cheerleader because I was away at grad school.  There weren’t any high school sports for girls, so cheering for the boys’ teams was the sole athletic option for girls.  Vicki didn’t pursue her cheerleading career after junior high, probably because it didn’t fit with her life priorities.  




Here's a beautiful photo taken in Menekaunee on the Green Bay shore across the river from Menominee.  Menekaunee started out as a separate fishing village and eventually was absorbed by the city of Marinette.  I went many times with my dad to buy fresh whitefish at Pederson’s fish house in Menekaunee on trips home from college and graduate school.  There’s still some active commercial fishing on Green Bay and Lake Michigan that’s based there, though substantially less than in days gone by. 




Katja first came to visit Menominee in March of 1957, three months after we’d first met in Milwaukee. This photo, with Peter, Vicki, and myself, was taken a couple of years later at our house on the river. Vicki was 10 and Peter almost 12.  My brothers and sister loved Katja, and it took no time at all for her to become a full-fledged member of our family.




As newlyweds, Katja and I moved from Yellow Springs to Ann Arbor in September 1960, and we’d make biannual trips to Menominee via the Mackinac Bridge each August and sometimes in December.  Here’s my mom Doris talking with Katja as I packed the trunk, probably about to depart on a wintry trip to the Lower Peninsula.  Xmas vacations in Menominee were full of excitement because of all the togetherness with siblings, socializing, thrift shops, Jim Beam, and laughter. 





Around the late 1960’s my parents, Vic and Doris, teamed up with Vic and Ruth Mars to buy a large section of land in the Birch Creek area, north of Menominee.  Vic and Doris’ half included a dilapidated farm building compound in which they originally had little or no interest.  After a couple of years, though, they decided to renovate it, and Farm because the heart and soul of their later lives.  This is my dad on the front porch before the work had begun.  Now the property is owned jointly by Vic and Doris’ nine grandchildren, and they’ve turned it into a thriving rental and family vacation property.    


Monday, August 4, 2014

Thank You, Supreme Court


Dear George,
I’ve been happier ever since the Supreme Court explained to us that corporations are people.  I used to think of corporations as huge monoliths that were only concerned with maximizing profits and didn’t care a whit about people (except their stockholders).  Now, thanks to the Supreme Court, I realize that corporations can have the same feelings, desires, and mood states as the rest of us.  This is important because, if you think about it, practically everything in our lives involves interacting with corporations and their representatives, e.g., buying gas, going to the movies, eating lunch, working out at the fitness center, even camping at the state park. 



Many keys on my ignition switch

One good example of corporations being people is the giant auto-maker that manufactured our SUV.  They are in the news practically every day because of people dying from their faulty ignition switches.  As far as I can tell, this mostly affects small cars, so I don’t know if our SUV is a deathtrap or not.  I was interested when I saw a full-page ad from the  company in the Sunday New York Times last week.  They seemed to be practically in tears about their ignition problems and wanted to do whatever they could to help.  In particular, they advised drivers to keep just one single key on their keyring to minimize strain on the ignition switch.  They gave a website and an 800 phone number to call if owners had any questions.   I called the 800 number immediately to ask about our SUV.  I was put on hold for a few minutes, but then a woman with a pleasant voice answered.  Before I even said anything, she said I should consult their website or call the service department of my local dealer if I had any questions.  I said I just had a quick question about ignition switches.  I explained that I owned one of their SUVs and that their New York Times ad recommended that drivers use just one key on their keyring.  I said I have four keys on my key ring plus two keychain fobs so it’s pretty heavy.  I wondered if I should switch to just one key on my keyring.  The woman paused, then said she wouldn’t know anything about that.  She said I should call my dealer.  Thinking she hadn’t fully grasped my question, I said that their newpaper ad recommended using a single key for their small cars, and I wondered if that applied to their big cars too.  She asked if there had been a recall for my SUV.  I said I didn’t think so.  She said she only knew about recalls and, if I wanted more information, I should call my dealer.  She sounded sort of irritated at my persistence.  I thanked her for her help.  My private opinion was that if the auto company truly cares about their customers they might want to hire a more knowledgeable representative to answer a phone number that they list in a full-page ad in the New York Times.




Protecting the animal hospital lawn

One corporation that has been very compassionate to us over the years has been our local animal hospital.  Recently they were taken over by a large national chain.  Since corporations are people, I would think that the larger the corporation, the more humanely they will behave, but that isn’t necessarily the case.  I began wondering about this when one of their technicians recommended to us an exhaustive battery of tests that would check for every known malady that could possibly inflict older dogs.  The full set of tests would cost $1800 for Mike and Duffy.  Katja was tempted, but, since our dogs have no symptoms other than arthritis, I talked her out of it.  Privately I thought to myself that our revamped corporate friend might actually be trying to gouge us.  I got even more dismayed on our next visit when there were identical signs at opposite ends of the animal hospital lawn that read, “People and Animals Please Keep Off Grass.”  I understand asking people to keep off the grass, but where exactly are dogs supposed to go if not on the grass?  These are the sort of signs that people who hate dogs put in their yards.  Is that how our corporate animal hospital feels?





Confusing objects on our sink

Another problem with corporations is that they put out zillions of similar products, and it’s easy to get confused.  Lately I’ve been using cortizone to relieve an itchy skin problem. Last Thursday night I went to brush my teeth and picked up the cortizone tube by mistake.  I would say it looks virtually identical to a toothpaste tube which the cortizone people ought to know better not to do.  In any case, I could tell as soon as I put the toothbrush in my mouth that something wasn’t right.  I looked at the tube. It said “Cortizone” rather than “Crest”.  Yuck – I spit it right out in the sink and rinsed my mouth two or three times.  Then I wondered if the strange sensations in my throat meant that the cortizone was slithering down into my lungs.  I read the fine print on the tube.  It said in bold print, “For external use only.”  Then it added, “If  swallowed, contact a Poison Control Center right away.”  My heart started pounding.  I didn’t want to call the Poison Control Center and have to tell some live stranger that I’d brushed my teeth with cortizone.  Instead I went to Google and searched “swallowed cortizone.”  The first response I got was a posting from a mother whose 18-month-old baby had swallowed half of a two-ounce tube of cortizone.  Fortunately for me, she had immediately called her local Poison Control Center.  The Poison Control Center told her that if the baby had only swallowed half a tube of cortizone, there was nothing to worry about.  He might have some excess gas or even vomit, but just one ounce of cortizone wouldn’t hurt him.  I knew I hadn’t put even close to an ounce on my toothbrush, so I felt much better.  I took the cortizone tube off the sink and put it on the windowsill so I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.  I said to Katja that this problem of brushing your teeth with cortizone must happen to hundreds of people every day.  She shook her head and said, “I don’t think so.”

I still believe what the Supreme Court told us about corporations being people, but I’m less excited about the idea.  I was being naïve about it.  People aren’t always that great.  They can be rude or indifferent; they make mistakes all the time; they can take advantage of us, etc.  Corporations are just like everybody else.   Some corporations can be faithful friends or even sweethearts.  Other corporations can be bullies or be really selfish or stupid, etc.  You just have to be careful and pick and choose.  Maybe the Supreme Court will look into this matter further. 
Love,
Dave


G-mail Comments
-Phyllis S-S (8-4)  Brilliant, Dave.