Spending Time Wisely... Pondering Identity, Sometimes Our Own, Sometimes that of Others!

 

Memoirs of a Geezer

  

Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!

This Episode:             Spending Time Wisely...  Pondering Identity,

                    Sometimes Our Own, Sometimes that of Others!

Deep in the mists of geezerhood, with all of its obscurity, challenges, wonders and expectations -- ever Closer to surrendering the Illusion of Immortality -- in an effort to escape the clutter and cluster of urban smog and dust-scape, we tend to wander...  Where?  Somewhere!  Anywhere...  perhaps north, sometimes in other directions?!

At the beginning of a recent such brief odyssey, we were delighted to spy two BlueJays, each a buzz of glorious color.  As if the pair -- blurred but unable to conceal themselves entirely -- were speed painting their 

primary hues, spreading then onto the contrasting green of flora, some of it incipient, some in the full explosion of spring beauty and color!  

Heading south toward the river, SweetHeart and I were attempting to discover the oddly narrow stream of what we believed to be a tail of the river and how it joined its larger body.  In the end, thwarted by a power pole and impassible shrubbery, we were compelled to cross to the other side.  To no avail, we could not bend our vision to follow its path and the probable junction of a small thread to a larger skein! 

Having crossed, we found ourselves on a flag-bedecked vision of various contours of field and meadow, a greensward, bordered by vestigial woodlands, still spare, just budding in the nascent burst of early springtime.   

In the clubhouse on that purposely limited expanse of greenery, on which a number of combatants were attempting to strike dimpled white spheres, we donated one such found object to a surprised and grateful young woman about to participate in that very same campaign.  So many of them!   Swinging, striking, missing!  Possibly cursing!  What has happened, I wondered, to American productivity.  "Doesn't anyone work anymore?" Perhaps owing to fear and frustration, a feeling of ennui and hopelessness, the absurdities and lunacy of a political landscape populated by feckless buffoons whose aims and language many fail to fathom, perhaps never will!

Never mind all that.  We move on!  I suppose some would question our own dedication to the betterment of the nation's economic health.  We are old, yes, but we continue to work as much as we're able.  Being older, or historic, as our grandson describes us, we sometimes seize moments when industry fails to beckon, and thus we wander.  Our attempts to find joy in simple pursuits, to spend time in peaceful reflection, visions of wings, the undulating and constant movement of water, gorgeous vistas of green, purple, pink, lavender, sepia, emerald and sage!  Dazzled often by its variety, complexity, beauty and memory!  

Our wanderings do take us, or perhaps lead us inexorably, to destinations comprised of those aforementioned joys, miracles and colors, where ospreys soar and dive and capture

river fish with which to feed their young and themselves.  Until late summer when offspring begin to fledge, testing courage and wing strength, ability and that ancient, instinctively-rediscovered route to winter feeding grounds far to the South. 

We often wish that our forte, our primary bread-winning focus, were educative travel, leading followers to distant shores, exotic cities and towns, to far-away places, fascinating ideas, customs and faces!  (The word "forte" -- by the by -- contains a Silent "E" and is pronounced "Fort," and means one's strength, one's matier, one's principal gift or talent, one's "Thing," so to speak!)

Alas, at least for now, we wander in limited scope and distance, but we can and do dream of greater escapes.  Well, to be honest and accurate, we've both traveled somewhat

extensively, in our distant past -- to France, Spain, Morocco, Italy, Estonia, Turkey, Mexico, Canada, England, Finland -- and to many destinations in our own country.  Mustn't grumble, but still we long to wander further afield, and oftener!  

Meanwhile, we have our Great Lake, the Confluence of Three Rivers, our namesake river and other bodies of water in which big ships plow their way to ports and harbors and depositories.  Many offloading their goods and their essential cargoes from great, cavernous holds, or collecting commodities to ferry to other faraway places, ports and harbors, many great vessels with self-discharging structures aboard, destined for as many ports with enormous collection canyons and conveying contrivances on their shores!

As we steer our course toward oblivion, or a pleasant terminus in the realm of wander, I suppose we do at times tend to consider our own identities.  Who are we, what is our aim or purpose in life?  Do we continuously ponder our identities, what we're intended to do or be.  Our friend, Bill, cares deeply about such inponderables.  We, on the other hand, do not, or usually we do not.  We do, however, care about how to spend our time enjoyably and profitably, meaning profitable in terms of happy enterprise.  And we will, I hope, continue to do so when time and tide enable us to wander leisurely, even aimlessly, through the often bewildering mists of GeezerHood!  

(Special Note of Dedication:   For SweetHeart and all of our good chums and relatives who have been elevated to the status and the state of Wisdom!  I note that aristocrats speak of being "Elevated to the Purple," that is, achieving a position of royalty.  Those of us not of the peerage or royal lineage achieve veneration through the process of aging gracefully, and should therefore be accorded great respect and admiration...  possibly purple garments too!)  

Humbly submitted 05-13-25 -- Joel K.

  

  

 

    

       

 

The Delights and Wonders of Having Dogs in One's Family!

 

Memoirs of a Geezer

  

Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!

This Episode:           The Delights and Wonders of Having Dogs in One's Family!

Nickie!  Quite adept at
piano, she was!!

"Snickers" was the given name, that is, the moniker conferred upon a certain "CockaPoo" of our acquaintance.  Her original family called her "Nickie."  She was a canine of the feminine persuasion.  Following our adoption of said doggie, we, ever after, called her Nickie as well!  (Snickers seemed to us unkind and inappropriate, sort of...  like equating her to an edible thing...   a commodity!!)

(Cockapoo:  An amalgam of cocker spaniel and poodle, not a rooster and a chubby, honey-obsessed literary cartoon creature!)

The adoption was accomplished following the death of his original master, a much-loved family member whom we continue to miss, even some 40 years or more after the fact.  Prior to her passing, she "bequeathed" Nickie to us, fearful that her remaining family members might tend to forget their dog-connected duties, given work, school and personal commitments and preferences!  Understandable, of course, and we were happy to take the dog into our care! 

She was unique, a kind of "First Edition," One-of-a-Kind...  A fuzzy, highly energetic and sort of manic package with a comic and an antic disposition.  A bundle all together repulsive, maddening, unruly, laughable and lovable!

On one occasion, while trotting about in our neighborhood -- a daily routine designed to

The Blog's Perpetrator
in peculiar joggling
apparel, compelling his
"Best Friend" to
bite his leg!

keep one fit -- glad in goggles, knit cap, scarf, logo'ed leg warmers and other odd apparel, she bit me.  Probably didn't mean to bite her deputy master, possibly a case of mistaken identity...  (or fear of lunacy ?!) -- SweetHeart being the principal or Chief of Masters -- she seemed to apologize after I showed Nickie the bite mark and blood on my lower leg!  Nickie, of course, feigned ignorance!

She even bit our lawyer.  Thank goodness he was a dear friend of long standing!  All taken in good humor, even as he hopped in one-legged pain, quizzing us as to why we were present with a strange beast at a cut-rate salvage yard!  (We might have been sued had she bit a member of the legal profession unknown to us!) 

Nickie barked at everything and anything, including insects, doors, the postman, the UPS and other commercial delivery drivers, other dogs, passersby in the neighborhood, birds, visiting children, dignitaries, collection agents, a mean-looking repossession emissary...

Splendor in the Grass...  
Prior to Burial Ceremony!

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When Nickie became quite old and ill, she had to be carried      upstairs to our bed where she'd spend the night in peaceful slumber.  Hearing morning noises, she emit strident barking, waking the household if not the entire neighborhood, tumble out of bed and mostly fall down the stairs, crash into a closet door at the bottom of said stairs, and commence barking fiercely at the offending door!

When Nickie finally succumbed to illness and old age, we took her to the capacious property of our dear friends, Sue and Rob, and buried her near a fruit tree.  As part of the burial ceremony, I sang the plaintive tune, "Old Blue," and we lowered her into the grave...  "I dug her grave with a silver spade, and let her down with a golden chain, singin' 'Go on Blue (Nickie,) I'm a comin' too..." A truly lovely send-off that those of us participating, and no doubt listening from the road, found to be quite haunting, beautiful and memorable!  (Really??!!)

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She, Kody,  really did have large Black Spots
on her fuselage, or torso!  You'll have to 
take our word!

And then Dakota arrived, or Kody as we came to call her, a mainly white and black-spotted greyhound acquired from a shelter, or humane society canine care center in the county in which we lived at the time.  Our sweet little daughter felt we could not live without a "canine cousin" in our family grouping.  Kody cuddled up to Bethie, our daughter...   and that was that!

As greyhounds do, Kody loved to run, but only the sprint portion of the exercise, and then we practically had to drag her back home as she felt she had done all that was necessary in the running game.  (I think we heard her speak occasionally -- "Leave me alone here on the soft grass...  I'm resting!") 

Our daughter, she who desperately wanted a doggie companion, moved out shortly after the Kody acquisition, leaving her parents with the permanent care and feeding responsibilities for Dog Kody!  

Kody (center, Mostly) with Family Members.  
SweetHeart is at top.  That's Bethie at left!

    Kody had a Houdini-like proclivity of     escaping her collar and lead, frequently.  On     one occasion we found the escapee climbing up  on the body and shoulders of an elderly     woman!  "Git him off, Git him off," the woman  shrieked repeatedly.  We ran to the poor old     dear and extricated Kody from her terrified     person, comically scolding Kody in the     process.  The elderly woman scowled at and     rebuked us, "He should be on a rope or some other means of restraint for pity sake..."  

"He's a girl dog," SweetHeart responded!

In the midst of our old and sagging front porch reconstruction, Kody clawed her way out of the temporary doorway in order to follow her immediate family and other relatives who were embarking on a walk to the local coffee emporium.  She raced after us, crossing a somewhat busy road only to be struck by a large pickup truck.  No fault of the driver's, as he could not stop in time to prevent striking the racing hound.  The poor man wept as we tried to console him, while at the same time assessing the considerable damage to our poor canine.

She was obviously badly wounded in the encounter.  Shocked and limping, belly sagging and filled with blood and other fluid, we rushed Kody to an animal emergency clinic.  Throughout the ordeal, various veterinarians continued to consult with us, halting our continuous circumnavigations as we nervously paced the waiting area.  "She'll need more treatment," a vet doctor told us.  "Um, she'll need this kind of treatment...  and these sorts

of medicines..."  $3000.00 later we carried her to our auto, and then into the house.  SweetHeart fed her by hand.  Soft foods.  Oatmeal, cottage cheese, soft-boiled eggs....  Kody became the Cleopatra of wounded animals, dedicated servants at her bidding!!

At various times in her life with us, Kody -- food obsessed and thieving like no dog before or since --  ate an entire complement of chocolates, regurgitating and depositing offal everywhere in the house, not a spot of carpeting was spared!  On another occasion, SweetHeart having baked one of her famous cheesecakes promised for a function we were to attend, Kody devoured damn near the entire cake!  Kody was a master food thief.  We were not always happy with her, particularly when she consumed our dinners!  

Our fault, I suppose.  We should have concealed all manner of food stuffs, placing them well out of her reach or ability to sniff out and devour!!  

Pete (left), Yoshi (right) and
Alie (Center)....  Walkies!!

On one of her escapes, she fled into nearby Lake Park and encountered a not-too-friendly skunk.  Our neighbor used his roommate's new convertible, rescued Kody who resultantly,        permanently deposited and impregnated skunk aroma in the    upholstery and carpeting of the gorgeous new automobile.  The roommate was not pleased, perhaps needless to add.  But, Kody was rescued, safe...  That must count for something, eh?

Kody lived 13 years.  We did not have a chance to offer her a burial ceremony, as a local humane animal clinic put her to sleep.  Kody had cancer, couldn't eat, couldn't digest food.  She was positively skeletal.  Very sad.  We miss them both, loved them both.  Wonderful companions.  Wonderful, fun and often challenging family members.  

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     Pete with Lucy!        

    There is, however, a kind of compensation.  Both of our beautiful          daughters have dogs -- Pete (Peter, Petey...) and Yoshi, both males         of the species, the former a rescued street dog, a tan-colored mix of     beagle and no one really knows what else, but with a sweet
    disposition.   The latter is all black, another mixture of breeds, a         small "Labra-Doodle"sort of creation!  

Yoshi, après bath!

    He, Yoshi (or Yo Yo, his sort of nom de plume!)      has a bark that seems as though he may have         swallowed an amplifier with no volume control!  Both are interesting, delightful creatures.  We are happy to spend time with them, and that helps to mitigate the loss of those former pals, their memories etched in our heads and hearts, their adventuresome stories a frequent source of merriment! 

(Dedicated to Dog Lovers Everywhere, particularly those who took possibly unwanted  shelter-bound dogs into their hearts and homes.  We are of course kindred spirits, are we not?  Indeed we are!  Thank You!) 

(Humbly Submitted 04-29-2025 -- By Joel K.)   

 

 

 

  

  

Loss... The Wounded Heart!

 

Memoirs of a Geezer

  

Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!

This Episode:             Loss...  The Wounded Heart!

It is of course inevitable, if sadly so, damn!  We're not designed for permanence.  We are not rocks or water or earth...   or carbon, perhaps?  Doesn't matter.  In the hazy milieu

of GeezerHood, we experience the loss of those we love and cherish!  It's a rotten business!  We usually don't care to think of it, or dwell on it, or wallow in misery as if figuratively, morosely standing at the "terminal bus stop," pondering the inexorable end of life!    

Most recently, our dear friend, Susie, drifted away after 15 months of illness, much of it in agony and suffering, but through all of it she exhibited extraordinary courage and strength.  In much of that time her attitude was laced with remarkable optimism, even hope, a quality her family and friends shared with prayer and bold attempts at a kind of sanguine bouyancy, a hopeful positivism, even cheerfulness, if a bit naive, knowing in our hearts that nothing could save her.  

The chemo and drugs and therapy did little to mitigate the experience, while it devoured her time and her energy.  She was far too good, loving and generous to have been

That's her with her friend, or
was it her pet...  bald eagle!  Such a good
time, one of many travel adventures!

subjected to an end of life so damned undeserved.  Her family and friends benefitted enormously from her kindness, emotional strength and loving spirit.  She was a treasure among those of us who could never hope to compare!

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In early August of last year, 2024, my brother, Kris, succumbed to enough cancer to spread among those far less important and valued, far less valuable to the human species.  He was another treasure, with a tremendous degree of talent and skill and loving generosity.  His gifts endure and will long be remembered and cherished by everyone who knew him and were lucky enough to bask in the remarkable force and richness of his personality.

My sister's first-born of three sons died recently, nearly a continent away from his home in California.  Too young!  We weren't close, emotionally or physically.  He was a good man; he looked after his grandfather, my father, during the latter's long hospice care.  My nephew did so with love and generous kindness, temporarily minimizing  his own academic and other more desirable, personal pursuits, the kind that would normally occupy the minds and physical activities of most vital young men.   

That's him with Bride, Jaynie.  
It's an old picture, 1965
probably!  

I guess the point is, loss and death are crap!!  I know, I know...  No one, not one of us escapes.  We're all doomed.  Our only hope is that we can endure long enough to spread some light, benefit our families and our best chums, our colleagues and comrades!  

I'm told there's such a thing as a peaceful passing, one that is not that sort of lethal dagger such as cancer and other horrific diseases, the kind that linger...  I've known a couple, maybe a few, who died peacefully in sleep!  Too bad we can't all book in advance such a ticket to the inevitable grave! 

The eminent psychiatrist / philosopher, Carl Jung once said, or wrote, "Life behaves as if it were going on (forever)..."  We all seem to harbor the illusion of immortality, suggested often in literature, including one of the writings of Jean Paul Sartre.  The protagonist in one of the author's tales "surrenders that illusion..." and, his death sentence delayed, possibly reversed (I can't readily recall...), feels he is or may as well be dead, having given up, surrendered to it, admitting dully that nothing mattered any longer.  

I don't know why the hell those bits of existential musings come to mind...   Perhaps I'm  getting a bit maudlin!  I didn't mean to dwell on that topic, as in, where the hell did that come from...!  Apologies...        

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It seems a bit strange, maybe a little wrong, to introduce a topic that is perhaps an inappropriate digression...  not nearly as heart wrenching or sad, but loss nonetheless...   The subject is relocation...    Moving!  In summer of last year, we sold our house of something in the neighborhood of 28, approaching, maybe, 30 years, and moved west from our east side Milwaukee home to a large suburb.  We loved living east, near the city's vibrant downtown area, near the big lake.  

It was a difficult move, physically, of course, but emotionally as well, but one we regarded as timely and necessary.  Many can  

The old house!

and will empathize, I'm certain.  Getting rid of years of "stuff" is also a tricky and difficult undertaking.  For some, sentiment presents a major obstacle.  For others a pleasing relief to be rid of the often useless and unwanted clutter accumulated over the space of so many years.  I hoarded several old telephone books, for example, often a subject of ridicule!  (You know...   important numbers circled and saved in case of need!)  

Well, gosh -- realizing I should put an end to this morose business -- everything we value is eventually lost when we finally meet, in the words of the incomparable W.C. Fields, "The Fellow in the Bright Nightgown."  Meantime, for those of us still standing, we are best advised to savor the joys of life and its many adventures, its good, and bad times too, thankful for all we have, particularly for its real and enduring diamonds, namely, our loving family members and our cherished good friends!  

So long Susie, Kris and Keith.  We loved you!  We'll miss all of you terribly.  We hope, if those with religion and spiritualism in their hearts are right, you're in a better place, waiting for the rest of us to arrive, all of us bathed in the bright auras of joyful rebirth!! 

(Humbly Submitted 02-28-2025...  by Joel K.)