POETRY FEVER

 Dear George, 

 I started taking poetry classes at OLLI in 2015, and I’ve taken them at least once every term since. That amounts to several hundred poems shared with colleagues. I can trace my interest in poetry back to Washington Grade School where we first learned to write in rhyme. Later, as a freshman at Antioch College, I studied poetry more seriously with Professor Judson Jerome who taught me to write in free verse. I was eager to be a literature major, headed for a career in writing, but Jerome convinced me that it wasn’t lucrative so I switched to Psychology. There went my poetry career for roughly 65 years. Nowadays I devote every day to writing and/or revising poems, many of them autobiographical in nature. I was shocked when I was closed out in registration from my Advanced Poetry class this quarter because of size limits, but the instructor let me in anyway. Here is the poem that I brought to the class today. 

Love, 

Dave 

                         Life Puzzles  

Marriage, that most bewildering of journeys 

Two different persons, one single union 

Like ships in a storm 

Or cats and dogs spattting 

How has this anomaly even survived?   

My wife Katja and I, born into alternate worlds 

She from Philadelphia; I, the North Woods  

Friends are mystified, think we’re alien beings 

Yet we’ve stuck together for               

            Sixty-six                         

                        Odd                                   

                                    Years   

My wife came of age on Philly’s Main Line 

A student of classics at the High School for Girls 

French Literature, Balzac and Baudelaire 

Weekend outings to the Philadelphia Art Museum 

Or Wanamaker’s for tea sandwiches and pink lemonade 

The passions of her soul: The Opera, The Symphony 

And following Queen Elizabeth and her royal clan   

Meanwhile             

        my family lived in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula 

A house made of pine in a forest on the river 

Childhood obsessions:             

        Camping at Mason Park             

        Shooting hoops on an icy driveway 

         Trapping otter on the riverbank 

Our family’s yearly highlight:  The U.P. State Fair at Escanaba             

The demolition derby…the freak show…the Country Music Cavalcade 

And,  of course, most thrilling of all: The Green Bay Packers!!!   

So how did we get together?  — such a blur 

But she thought the North Woods romantic 

And I found the Big City EYE-POPPING!   

We’ve attended the opera every summer

Though resistant at the start,              

        I’ve gradually improved  

In August we go to the County Fair 

                which sets my heart thumping 

The goats and the sheep, bloomin’ onions, bumper cars 

My wife loves the rabbits and the ferris wheel

 If not for me, she would have missed out   

I think this must be the secret of long marriages 

Like potluck dinners, each brings different treats to the table

A COCKROACH SAGA

 

Dear George, 

So far 2026 has been mostly trouble at our house. We’ve endured a major winter storm, the death of our beloved dog Iko, my computer crashing and needing replacement, a fender-bender with our CR-V, getting closed out of my poetry class during registration, and Katja’s upcoming surgery. The worst, though, has been our ongoing battle with the cockroaches. They appeared in our kitchen about five or six months ago. For a long time we didn’t do anything about them. I thought of them as tiny little pets who would visit us in the night and play around on the kitchen counter. Then one day our fancy and expensive stove stopped working. The technician came, took it apart, and concluded that the cockroaches had destroyed the electrical system. He shoveled the corpses into a wastebasket and said that the stove would have to be replaced. That was the end of my amusement. I asked Gemini who the best exterminator in town was, and we made an appointment. 

While waiting for the exterminator, I did some investigation. It turns out that cockroaches have been around for about 320 million years. They are among the most adaptable insects, found from the Arctic to the tropics. German cockroaches, the species in our household, are social creatures, capable of transmitting information, recognizing kin, and residing in a common shelter. They eat human food, pet food, garbage, book bindings, soap and toothpaste, paper, cardboard, and fecal matter. Highly dependent on water, they are often found in kitchens and bathrooms. Females carry egg cases which hold about 30 to 40 long, thin eggs. With a life span up to a year, a single female can produce 300 to 400 offspring. Cockroaches are among the hardiest insects. Some can go for a month without food and without air for 45 minutes. Decapitated cockroaches remain active, and the decapitated head can wave its antenna for several hours. 

The exterminator’s pre-visit instructions asked that we remove everything from the kitchen and bathrooms. This was no easy matter since we have been accumulating “stuff” for the last half century. Our kitchen has 42 shelves and 5 drawers. All of them were filled to capacity with boxed and canned food, kitchen utensils, dinnerware, glassware, cleaning supplies, and miscellany. I made five or six trips to the nearby drugstore dumpster and brought home 3 or 4 dozen cardboard boxes. We worked full-time for two days to fill the boxes and move them into the dining room. We could barely move around the dining room once we’d finished. The exterminator came and concluded that we were pretty heavily infested. We signed a contract for six visits over a 12-week period. In fact, he completed his ninth visit last week. Each time the exterminator sprayed and put gel bait in crevices and niches. He put little roach traps all around the kitchen each time, and we could tell how successful the treatment had been. After the first visit there might have been 8 to 10 dead roaches in each trap. Now only 2 or 3 traps have a single dead roach. 

Close to the end, my sense is that the exterminators are going to continue till it’s down to zero. Since the end is in sight, we decided to move our belonging back into the kitchen. Because this involves decisions about rearranging things, it’s taking a lot longer to move back in than it took to move out. We started six days ago, working about four to six hours a day, and we still have a day’s worth left to move. Katja has woken up every morning with an aching back and legs, and I struggle to get out of bed. It is very satisfying though. Because we moved all the remaining boxes out to the foyer, our dining room looks more beautiful than we remember it. The kitchen shelves look back to normal too. Katja says we’re never going to do this again. I agree. All we have to do is keep these unpleasant pests from returning. 

Love,  Dave

THIS END OF LIFE BUSINESS

Dear George, 

As long as I can remember, Katja and I have disagreed vehemently about what will be done with our corpses after we die. Katja thinks we should both be embalmed and buried in caskets. I think we should both be cremated. These are our respective family traditions, and neither of us has budged a bit over the years. If anything, we’ve become more rigid. A couple of weeks ago, we got in the mail a brochure and questionnaire from the local cemetery where Katja’s parents are buried. It seemed like the time had come to make decisions about these matters, so we made an appointment at the cemetery with a woman named Bonnie. 

Katja and I planned to sit down and talk over the issues before our appointment, but, of course, we never got around to it. Bonnie met us at the funeral home lobby and escorted us to an upstairs meeting room with Sprite, Coke, Diet Coke, and water available for us on the table. After five minutes of idle chitchat to relax and size one another up, Bonnie proceeded with a series of life and death questions. When we explained our divergent views on burial vs. cremation, Bonnie said that the cemetery was completely accommodating. We can have a single plot that will hold Katja’s casket and my urn full of ashes. I wasn’t aware of it, but Ohio state law specifies that we will still have to purchase a casket in which I will be cremated. Supposedly this is a matter of proper respect for the dead (not a rip-off by the funeral industry). I joked that my ashes could be put in a paper bag. Bonnie wasn’t amused. According to state law, we would also have to buy an urn which will cost $395. 

Bonnie then proceeded to a series of questions regarding services. Options are: (a) no service; (b) a chapel service; or (c) a gravesite service. Bonnie made it clear from her tone and body language that no service was not an acceptable option. We have lost so many friends over the last couple of decades that I couldn’t imagine many attendees for myself beyond immediate family, so I opted for a gravesite service. Bonnie asked if I wanted a religious or secular officiant, and I went secular. Katja, on the other hand, chose a chapel service officiated by a rabbi. (She does, in fact, have more friends than I do.) Katja had a particular rabbi in mind, but, because she doesn’t belong to the rabbi’s synagogue, she was unsure about availability. Bonnie said the funeral home could provide a rabbi just in case. 

Having settled the big questions, we went downstairs to the casket shop. There were a lot of models, and they were all appealing. I was worried because the price range ran from $2,000 to $79,000. Katja usually goes for the high end. This time, though, she chose one of the more reasonable options. Just out of coincidence, it was “The Clifton” (which is also the name of the neighborhood in which we’ve lived for the last half century). We then looked at some grave markers. Katja said she wanted a gravestone with an angel on top, but I raised enough of a fuss that she retracted that. 

Bonnie tallied up the bill, and it came to about a year of tuition at a respectable private university (reasonable, I finally decided, since we are purchasing space for all eternity). Next Monday we will meet with Jackie to pick out the location of our plot. I suggested something close to Katja’s parents, but Bonnie said that was unlikely since they had purchased theirs thirty years ago. Katja said she wanted to be buried under a tree. While there are lot of trees in the cemetery, there is the problem of roots. I am sure we will find something we like. I don’t think we’ve ever made plans this far in advance in our entire married life. Grisly as the topic may be, it’s sort of a relief. 

Love, Dave

GOODBYE, SWEET IKO

Dear George, 

Recently we had to have Iko, our beloved miniature Schnauzer, euthanized. He had been bleeding from the mouth, and we took him in for dental surgery. However, the vet found a large tumor at the back of his throat -- an aggressive melanoma -- and she recommended that he be put down. Shocked and miserable, we reluctantly agreed. 

Iko has been such a loving companion. He slept with us every night, starting out in the middle of the bed, but then snuggling up to one or another of his humans. When I got out of bed in the morning, we've have our daily wrestling match. Iko would growl, roll on his back, kick his legs in the air, and play-bite my hands or wrists. The happiest part of his day. Then we would go for our morning walk. Iko was more of a sniffer than a walker, checking out every telephone pole, fire hyudrant, and piece of litter, leaving his marker on each. Workman arrivals were times of great excitement, and we would reassure the visitor that Iko likes to bark a lot but would never bite. The cleaning ladies were his highlight of the week. They loved Iko, and he loved them. 

We are strugling with our loss. I look for Iko every time I move from one room to another, and my biological clock reminds me of times for our walks. My exercise routine has dropped by fifty percent. Iko was a big part of Katja's and my relationship, an object of constant attention and great shared affection. We will recover but it's going to take a while.

Love, 

Dave

MENOMINEE NOSTALGIA

Dear George, 

According to Thomas Wolfe, “You can’t go home again” — truly a paradox since we think of home as a safe place to which we can always return. Wolfe reminds us that change is an ever-present feature of reality. Thus, the world we return to is never what it used to be and we ourselves have inevitably changed as well. Still, “going home” remains emotionally powerful because it involves reconnection with one’s past, if only through one’s memories. 

I left my home town for college when I turned 18 in 1955. While I wasn’t to be a full-time resident again, I’ve visited regularly ever since. In certain ways Menominee is exactly the same as it was in the 1950’s. The magnificent natural environment is unchanged, with the town’s southern border stretching along the Menominee River and its eastern edge along the Green Bay shoreline. The three auto bridges to Wisconsin remain in place. The layout of streets is identical, and virtually all of the buildings are the same. And many of the important landmarks remain, e.g., the courthouse, the library, the marina, the Presbyterian Church, Henes Park. 

I made a list of 70 important places in my youth. About a third of them are still there. Ten have relocated to other parts of town or to Marinette across the river, e.g., the hospital, the newspaper, my high school. Over half of the significant places of my youth are gone. Thinking about these losses, I decided to poetically commemorate some of Menominee’s places from my youth that no longer exist. 

Love, 

Dave 

             The Sheridan Road Business District (now First Street) 

THE LUNDGREN REXALL DRUGSTORE 

Uncle Kent’s store was right on the Square 

Weekdays Steven and I would eat there 

Read the new comic books 

Batman battling with crooks 

And vegetable soup, more than fair 

THE LLOYD THEATER 

The Lloyd, my first movie at night 

“Meet Me in St. Louis” — a delight 

Margaret O’Brien, so swell 

Judy Garland, a sweet belle 

The World’ Fair, an incredible sight 

MONTGOMERY WARD 

Montgomery Ward carried home goods stuff 

Suspenders, black trousers with a cuff 

They had lawn mowers and tools 

Fake furs and fake jewels 

Endless kitchenware, more than enough 

THE A&P GROCERY 

The A&P carried yummy things to eat 

Creamy pastries, avocados, pig meat 

We were often low on cash 

So my mom would make hash 

But sometimes she’d get me a treat 

WASHINGTON GRADE SCHOOL 

First grade, Washington school, downtown 

The best times were on the playground 

Playing boys chase the girls 

Kiddies racing in whirls 

When the bell rang, we had to calm down. 

KIRBY STREET CANDY STORE 

The candy store, half a block from school 

The lemon gum drops made me drool 

Each piece cost a penny 

One nickel, you’d get many 

And caps for my cap gun, so cool. 

COMMERCIAL BANK 

I saved my savings at the Commercial Bank 

Whose interior was large but dark and dank 

I brought a nickel each week 

Since my income was bleak 

But years later, a small fortune in the tank 

THE VOGUE 

The Vogue was my mom’s favorite store

For dresses and scarves and much more 

Not as fancy as Green Bay But it didn’t take all day 

And she always found something she wore 

THE MENOMINEE HOTEL 

The hotel was right there on the Bay 

Known by salesmen as a fine place to stay 

Our glee club sang there 

For the Lions Club’s fare 

I can still hum those tunes to this day 

THE MENOMINEE HERALD-LEADER 

In wartime we lived by the Herald-Leader 

Though I wasn’t a newspaper reader 

The editor was Jean Worth 

Filled with wisdom and mirth 

With a great hunting camp on the Cedar 

G.I. SURPLUS STORE

G.I. Surplus, my number one store 

They sold gas masks, machetes, and more 

I’d buy camping gear there 

Khaki caps I could wear 

And the weapons we used to play war 

POST OFFICE 

We lived by the post office in the war 

A most handsome building, one floor 

Mother sent me there for stamps 

Letters to Navy camps 

That errand was my first big-kid chore 

THE MENOMINEE THEATER 

The Menominee was close to the Bay 

Saturdays, the kids’ matinee 

They charged just a dime 

Double feature each time 

Charlie Chan was the most, I would say 

 

                 North on Sheridan Road 

DR. SETHNEY’S OFFICE 

Dr. Sethney worked in his abode 

Near the drugstore on Sheridan Road 

We’d go there for shots 

Or when troubled by spots 

 Lundgren births were among his case load 

PRODUCERS DAIRY 

Producers Dairy was right on our street 

Three blocks from our house, that was neat 

I’d stop after school 

Chocolate chip made me drool 

And the butterscotch cones, oh so sweet 

M&M BREWERY 

The Brewery made Silver Cream beer 

A golden brew that fostered much cheer 

The tough teens drank Silver Cream 

Mostly jocks on the football team 

But myself and my group had beer fear 

THE D.A.R. BOYS CLUB 

I’d go to the DAR after school. 

Pick and I played a few games of pool 

Then basketball with Jack 

Who could dribble behind his back 

We aspiring pros found this cool 

DR. SEIDL 

Dr. Seidl was Menominee’s vet

We’d go there for care for our pet 

Mike got porcupine quills 

In his nose, gave us chills 

Dr. Seidl yanked them out, no vet sweat 

    West on Ogden Avenue (now 10th Ave.) 

COONEY’S GAS STATION 

Harry Cooney’s was next to the Square 

We entrusted our cars to his care. 

But they never checked the oil 

Caused the engine to boil 

Our poor Lincoln, a total repair 

THE OFFICE SUPPLY STORE 

Age four, my Mom took me to the store 

A pencil, an eraser, sometimes more 

Ogden Ave, a long walk 

We were quiet, no talk. 

Even so, this trip made my heart soar 

TENNIS AT ROOSEVELT SCHOOL 

Tennis practice was at Roosevelt School 

Two hours per day was our rule

Jerry Boucher was the best 

I was lumped with the rest 

But being on the team was so cool 

ST. JOHN’S CATHOLIC CHURCH 

The O’Hara’s would take us to mass 

A ritual of a very high class. 

Our family weren’t Catholics 

At best Lutheran mavericks 

But I hoped for a heavenly pass 

FIRE STATION

Dad would take me to the fire station 

I’d slide down the pole, such elation 

Then I’d climb on the truck 

Like a muckety-a-muck 

Firemen, to me, meant salvation 

DAIRY QUEEN 

The Dairy Queen was at the center of town 

I’d hop on my bike and ride down 

The vanilla was swell 

And the chocolate…well, well 

When the Dairy Queen closed, pout and frown. 

ST. JOSEPH-LLOYD HOSPITAL 

We were born at St. Joseph-Lloyd Hospital 

And returned now and then when still little 

Steven busted his arm 

Which we viewed with alarm 

But they sculpted a cast, made him fittle 

THE GATEWAY CAFE 

The Gateway. our teenage hangout 

Near the hospital, right on our route 

A grilled cheese and French fries 

Chocolate malts for the guys 

Football nights, we were always about 

BOWLING 

Our gang would go to the alley to bowl 

My pal Steppke, three hundred was his goal 

But one hundred for me 

Was a source of much glee 

I never could get on a roll 

ZEPHYR GAS 

At the bridge, the gas nineteen point nine 

Two gallons made teen cars run fine 

Gas wars, just ten cents 

Even so, an expense 

Still we drove there and waited in line 

THE OGDEN AVE. FAIRGROUNDS 

The fairgrounds were the circus’s lair 

Featuring lions and tigers and one bear 

We would go there at dawn 

Watch the elephants’ brawn 

Then trapeze artists flying through the air. 

                 The West End

BOSWELL GRADE SCHOOL 

Boswell kindergarten, my five-year-old job 

A nervous twit, terrified by the mob 

I walked there with Sally 

My five-year old pally 

U.P. winters, we small fry would sob 

BOURGEOIS’ GROCERY 

We got groceries at Franny Bourgeois’ store 

I accompanied my dad on this chore 

Potato sausage was home-made 

Liver sausage, the highest grade 

Mother cooked it up, made our hearts soar 

THE IDEAL DAIRY 

The Ideal on the west edge of town 

Open daily from dawn to sundown 

Two dips for a nickel 

As cheap as a pickle 

Lemon flake, we would have a meltdown 

             Broadway and Stephenson (22nd St. and 14th Ave.) 

MENOMINEE HIGH 

Age twelve, I was off to high school 

Basketball and swimming in the pool 

I did okay at art 

English grabbed at my heart 

But in woodshop they thought me a fool 

GARBELL’S SODA SHOP 

Garbell’s, across from M.H.S. 

A retreat from our academic stress 

Pinball games in the rear 

We would gather round and cheer 

Earl Powell, pinball king, such finesse 

BIKE SHOP 

The bike shop was right by our school 

Its owner, so handy with a tool 

He’d patch our inner tube 

Give the bike chains a lube 

Our repaired bikes would ride like a jewel 

BEYERSDORF’S GARAGE 

Herb Beyersdorf took care of our car

His garage right on Stephenson, not far 

He’d get our boat motor running 

This man had such cunning 

Without Herb, life would be too bizarre 

TRAUTNER’S GROCERY 

A Trautner stop riding home on my bike 

This grocery with treats that kids like 

A Milky Way, a Babe Ruth 

To satisfy my sweet tooth 

Two more miles and I'd greet my dog Mike

NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS FOR 2026

 

Dear George, 

I make the same boring resolutions every New Years: exercise more and lose some weight. I never follow up on these. However, now that I am a really old person, I am realizing that I have less time to improve in all the ways I want to improve. So I am working on a more extensive list. Here is how it looks so far. 

7000 Steps. I was really excited to discover recently that my cell phone records my number of steps. I immediately began checking at the end of the day. According to my AI chatbot, 6,000-8,000 steps is the recommended goal for persons in their eighties. I’ve been doing about 5,000, so I am going to try to get up to 7,000 this month (then to 8 if I am successful). 

Play more with Iko. When our NOLA family visited for Christmas, they brought along Iko’s Shih Tzu brother, L’il Paws. With only us, Iko sleeps about 20 hours a day. But with another dog he was awake and alert lots of the time. I need to entertain Iko more. We can take more walks and wrestle more. (This will increase my steps as well.). 

Battle the cockroaches. We’ve had cockroaches in our kitchen for many months. At first I found them sort of amusing and considered them my night-time friends. But then they destroyed the electrical system in our expensive stove and they immediately became my enemies. The exterminators are coming next week, but I’ve tried to step up our sanitation practices in the meantime. 

3.8 Wordle. I have played the daily New York Times Wordle game about a 1000 times. You get 6 guesses to figure out a 5-letter word, and so far my average solution has been in 3.9 guesses. I’m sure I can do better, but 3.8 might be my optimal goal. 

Learn the Charleston. I’ve been suffering the doldrums ever since they cancelled line dancing at my fitness center. Recently I’ve been watching YouTube videos which teach solo Charleston dance steps. This is another of my January goals. 

Be more poetic. I’ve been doing poetry workshops at OLLI for at least seven years, and I spend a lot of time writing poetry. My main problem is that I’m not in the least bit poetic. My poems sound like the instruction manual for our new refrigerator — factual and concrete, not the least bit emotional or imaginative. I will try to change, but I am less optimistic about this resolution than any other. 

Tackle the clutter. We have lived in our house for over 50 years, accumulated a lot every year, and rarely got rid of anything. Consequently it is difficult to move around in our basement and attic. Closer to hand, my “office” is utter chaos. I never try to clean it up because of the magnitude of the task, but I the time has come. 

Be less bossy.  Both Katja and I are first-born children, so we grew up dominating younger siblings. However, this results in power struggles between the two of us since with operate with different rules for household and married life. I will try to ease up, and she probably will too. This is my plan, and I am enthused about it. By first I need to take a nap. 

Love, 

Dave

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