August 2006 Archives

Riding the bus with your big brother.
Baths and breakfasts. Coats and gloves.
Little hands in big ones.
Girls that thought you were sweet.
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
That oh-so-bad day that changed things forever.
Going to school not knowing what would happen.
Your good friend Jacqueline until she moved.
Your good friend Ryan until you moved.
Catapults and GI Joes.
Emily who took care of you when you got home.
Building bird houses for a Type 3 project.
Butterfly gardens.
Pokemon.
Mr. Dishler who changed his name.
Your buddy Joe who stands by you still.
Outdoor Ed.
Speech with Mrs. Allen.
Tech Ed and the remote control car.
Mrs. Williams' homeroom.
Music in the Park.
Riding in the Taurus to school.
Mt. Hebron Student of the Month. Twice.
Always participating. Always.
Toronto. New York City. Walt Disney World.
Calling just to say you got home.
Finally growing in 11th grade.
Jazz Band.
Junior prom with a senior girl.
SATs that still aren't done.
The start of your final year.
Guitar. Forensics. And six books to read.
Unfailingly sunny despite the knocks.
Grades. Good and bad.
But mostly good.

A father who loves you and always will.
K-

Yesterday, my younger son, D-, and I were riding in the car heading over to the Home Depot. We were commenting on all those pesky yard signs advertising political candidates.

We saw a bunch of signs for this guy. He's running for some sort of elected judge position.

I said to D- "Look at that guy running for judge. How do you think he pronounces his last name? Do you think it's the way "Super-MAN", "Bat-MAN", and "Spider-MAN" pronounce their names? Do you think he pronounces his last name "Tit-MAN"?"

D- rolled his eyes and started blushing.

"Tit-MAN, Tit-MAN, Tit-MAN. How would you like to go through life with Tit-MAN as your last name? Just imagine when they called roll in class... Is D- Tit-MAN present? Is there a Tit-MAN in the room?"

"I don't think he pronounces it that way" said D- getting redder. "It's probably pronounced Titmun."

"I once knew a guy by the name of Glass-COCK. How would you like that for your last name? D- Glass-COCK. How's that sound? Then there's the old football player Dick Butt-Kiss. How's that for a name?"

More eye rolling and embarrassment.

"And could you even have a vanity license plate with "Tit-MAN" on it? Would the Maryland DMV actually let you drive around with "Tit-MAN" on your car? Even if it is your last name? It would be sort of like that Ass-MAN episode on Seinfeld."

"They probably wouldn't let you have a SPACE in it!"

D- had reached his exasperation limit. I let it drop. I laughed all the way to Home Depot.
K-

I flew back from Tucson last night via Dallas/Fort Worth Airport. My flight from DFW to Baltimore was delayed because Chicago weather prevented my inbound plane from arriving at DFW on time. So this gave me a couple of extra hours to partake in one of my favorite pastimes: people watching.

I can sit for long periods of time in crowded venues silently watching people go to and from all the places they go to and from... from. I look at their faces and clothes, eavesdrop on snippets of conversation, and be generally nosy. You can see a lot of stuff by watching.

Anyway, last night at Gate A-39, I saw a few babes, some power brokers, big hair and shaved heads, several guys simultaneously wearing shorts and cowboy boots (not a good look), and dozens and dozens of people wearing those Borg-inspired, Blue Tooth earphone-things for their cell phones. This last group caused me to reach a cataclysmic decision.

If I ever found myself in a life situation where I was getting so many calls on my cell phone that I thought I had to wear one of those things, I would just have to shoot myself.

I would just have to shoot myself dead.
K-

When I was boy, I was much closer to my mother's parents than my father's. I spent summers with Grandmother and Granddad but would visit Nanna and Grandpa only occasionally and then just for the afternoon.

Granddad was one of these guys who worked every day of his life. He grew up in Wilmington, Delaware, where he quit school at 14 to go to work. He worked in factories and never got paid particularly well. By saving everything they had, the Fishers were comfortable in their retirement. Grandmother and Granddad lived in Middletown, a small town in upstate Delaware. He was a great guy, universally liked. Granddad enjoyed conversation and telling stories.

Grandpa went to college and had some big, high-powered executive job in Wilmington. To my boyhood eye, the Whites seemed rich. They traveled overseas, they drove Oldsmobiles, and there were lots of antiques and fancy furniture in the house. We always had lamb chops for dinner when we visited. Grandpa was loud and bombastic. I never saw him often enough to have any kind of relationship with him.

One summer in the early '70s, when I was a teenager, the four of us - my parents, my brother, and I - were visiting the Fishers in Middletown. It was a routine family visit. My father announced that all of us, including Grandmother and Granddad, had been invited by his parents to have dinner at the Wilmington Country Club. My mother later explained that the Wilmington Country Club was very posh and very elegant. We had to dress for dinner and be on our best behavior. She stopped short of saying the Wilmington Country Club was very exclusive although, looking back, I'm sure it was.

So the six of us piled into my father's Chevy and headed off for dinner. Granddad sat in the back with my brother and me. He was unusually quiet, almost grumpy. When we got to the club, it was just the way I pictured it: green fairways, multiple courses, a huge clubhouse with columns and doormen. We all stopped for pictures on the steps leading up to the front doors.

After everyone went in, I noticed Granddad hanging back, pacing around, not wanting to come in. I went back to him to discover he was in his "harrumphing" mood. Whenever he was angry or disgusted by a situation, he would make these little grunts to express his displeasure. I couldn't imagine why someone would be disgusted about having dinner in such a beautiful, fancy place.

Then he explained.

"You know Kem, I never finished high school when I was a boy. I had to go to work. I delivered papers and collected empty milk bottles. I was even a caddy here at the Wilmington Country Club. But I've never been in the clubhouse. Caddies weren't allowed. We had to stay down in the caddy shack because we weren't supposed to be seen by the members."

Eventually he went in and had dinner but I'm sure he didn't enjoy himself.

I don't know why I thought of this. But I did.
K-

I returned fom Lake George, New York yesterday to my home in Woodstock, Maryland. Before departing, I printed out the Google Maps driving instructions so I wouldn't get lost. I ended up following Google's recommended route. Google estimated the trip distance and time as: 424 miles, 7 hours 36 minutes. My actual driving distance and elapsed time?

Distance: 425.6 miles
Time: 7 hours, 40 minutes

And that includes bathroom breaks and I-95 delays in New Jersey and Delaware. Obviously Google understands the need for a man to make good time.
K-

You never know, it might help. More later.
K-

And now, dear readers, an interlude. A sojourn... away from keyboard and screen. A summer respite if you will. For the next two weeks my life's journey takes me beyond the blog. From immanent to authentic, from chimera to nascent, from imagination to cold reality.

I'll be in town. I'll be out of town. I'll be up state and down. Traveling and homebound. Much of the time I'll have no stargate to the blogosphere; I can only hope you'll pardon my apparent silence. Trust I'll return with pictures, stories, and treasure. In the meantime, I leave you with my good wishes as well as the immortal words of Rick Blaine:

But I've got a job to do, too. Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that.

Here's looking at you kid.
K-

For some reason, I've been experiencing minor technical difficulties. Comments for the last several days have been showing up in my junk comments file, which I rarely look at. Kudos to Rob for alerting me to the problem.

I'm not sure everything is working correctly but comments should show up now. Thanks for your patience.
K-

Because I've got nothing better and there is nothing better, 10 Holmesian aphorisms on 10 August:

1. "Come, Watson, come! The game is afoot." (Abbey Grange)
2. "I have made a small study of tattoo marks and have even contributed to the literature of the subject." (Red Headed League)
3. "How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?" (The Sign of Four)
4. "You see, but you do not observe." (A Scandal in Bohemia)
5. "My mind is like a racing engine, tearing itself to pieces because it was not connected up with the work for which it was built." (Wisteria Lodge)
6. "Come at once if convenient - if inconvenient come all the same." (Telegram to Watson - Creeping Man)
7. "Is there any other point to which you wish to draw my attention?"
"To the curious incident of the dog in the night-time."
"The dog did nothing in the night-time."
"That is the curious incident." (Holmes and Inspector Gregory - Silver Blaze)
8. "It is a capital mistake to theorize in advance of the facts." (Second Stain)
9. "There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact." (The Boscombe Valley Mystery)
10. "To a great mind, nothing is little." (A Study in Scarlet)

And finally in case you didn't know:

Sherlock Holmes was, as I expected, lounging about his sitting-room in his dressing-gown, reading the agony column of The Times and smoking his before-breakfast pipe, which was composed of all the plugs and dottles left from his smokes of the day before, all carefully dried and collected on the corner of the mantlepiece. (The Engineer's Thumb)

Have you hugged your Canon today?
K-

I'm executor of my mom's estate. And eighteen months after she died, I'm still doing stuff. I remember when she discussed the idea with me. "Sure," I said, "I'll be glad to be executor." Little did I realize that being an executor - even one for a relatively small and simple estate like hers - is real work. Sometimes a lot of it. Don't ever think executor is some honorific for a dutiful child. You get down and dirty. And if you screw up, you can be sued for malpractice.

Much of my work has been straightforward: canceling accounts, selling her house, paying bills. Some has been a little complex: locating assets, understanding estate taxes, transferring ownership. A little has been humorous: writing a church lady to explain I really don't have the Our Lady of Perpetual Work maracas despite her clear recollection of having given them to my mother or displaying my woeful city-boy ignorance about soybeans, mushrooms, and no-till to bemused Eastern Shore farmers.

Then there is the frustration. In my case, it's all come from one source: Investment Services Corporation. My mother owned a brokerage account that contained a number of equities. It manages the account. The account isn't large by most standards but it seems big to me. Part of my job as executor is to get that brokerage account moved from her name to mine. It's a simple journaling task that brokers and investment companies do all the time. Should take two weeks. In my case, it's taken 5 months and it still isn't done. I blame incompetence on the part of the investment representative I'm supposed to work with. Incompetence and the fact that the guy knows that I do not intend to leave the account with him. Three times I've sent the paperwork. But Investment Services Corporation has lost my forms, sent me the wrong forms, not followed-up, and generally ignored my phone calls. This is no small company; it's in the Fortune 500 Top 20.

I'd like to think I'm in the home stretch. All my ducks are in rows. I just got my "all clear" letter from the IRS. (Who'd have thought a letter from the IRS would bring such joy?) The lawyer kissed me goodbye.

But Investment Services Corporation has other ideas.
K-

I had a letter to the editor published in the Howard County section of the Baltimore Sun on Sunday. I was answering the "speak out" question are campaign signs useful or are they just clutter. I straddled the fence. You can check out my published ranting here as I rail against the minions of darkness.

Also check out this very cool picture of the East Coast taken by the Earth Observatory satellite during our recent heat wave. I love maps and aerial photos of this nature. This one shows the mid-Atlantic region from Connecticut to North Carolina. I spent 10 minutes trying to find Woodstock.

I eventually found the brown patch that I call my lawn.
K-

From my youth. I actually remember milk deliveries and milk caps you could save.
K-

It's a tie:

Walking through a cow barn, a cow decided to let out a characteristic moo. Said D-, "That is the first time I ever heard a cow moo. They really say moo."

Later in the sheep barn we hear a sheep let out with its characteristic bleating.
"D- that's called a baa."
"Daddy, I know the Old MacDonald song."

K-

The annual Howard County Fair began today. I usually go. Howard County is still small enough that you're guaranteed to run into someone you know and haven't seen for a while. Plus county fairs are one of the few community events where everyone is in a downright jovial mood.

Today was de facto political day at the fair. Governor Ehrlich and his wife showed up and led the Fair Parade. A whole slew of other politicos were also there. I chatted briefly with the Democratic candidate for Howard County Executive. He seemed nice though we didn't have any time to get into specifics.

Of course, I took a bunch of pictures, a few of which are shown here. You can see D- comparing the size of his head to that of a prize winning pumpkin, patriotic Marylanders outside a cow barn listening to the National Anthem, a bunch of hands yanking on cow tits during the cow-milking contest, two farm girls hanging out in the swine barn, and a jailed rabbit. (Or bunny as both of my nearly adult children insist on calling it.)

I only wish I could have captured the enthusiasm and excitement the two girls had for their hogs. You can't see them but two huge pigs are sitting at their feet. Polite and sweet, they talked endlessly about their farm animals with unvarnished zeal to anyone that walked by. They were endlessly patient with all us city folk who think hogs come eight to a package.

And they both asked me back for Friday night's livestock sale.
K-

1. The price of top-quality shuttlecocks is skyrocketing. Feathers from Chinese geese - now being slaughtered by the millions to stave off avian flu - are used in all the pro lines.

2. Sorry, Mel, I don't care how drunk you are. Scathing anti-Semitism (or homophobia or racism) doesn't just come pouring out of your mouth unless it was inside to begin with.

3. Another downside to this heat wave... I can't complain about it in my blog. It does no good to whine about something if everybody else in the country is having the same problem.

4. Nine days till vacation. Did I tell you I'm going on vacation? Four nights in New York City, a night each in Cooperstown and Saratoga Springs, and three nights in Lake George. We will be pushing the envelope of White family dynamics to the breaking point.

5. Quiznos smokehouse beef brisket sub isn't half bad.

6. A chance quote at InfoSpigot put me on to Raymond Chandler. I just finished Red Wind. Now I'm thinking gold mine.

7. Name one - any one - holiday in August.

8. How do you stay cool?
K-

Maryland does most of its electing at the interim election. Senators, representatives, governors, state delegates and senators, county council representatives, and county executives all get decided in the off-years when there's no presidential election to contend with. (With its 10 electoral votes, Maryland is much too important to the presidential outcome to complicate things with state and local races.)

For several reasons, this year's national, state, and Howard County campaigns all promise to be barnburners. Maryland's race for US Senate is up in the air now that five-term senator, Paul Sarbanes, is retiring. Ben Cardin (D-MD District 3 representative), Kweisi Mfume (D-former head of NAACP), and Michael Steele (R-lieutenant governor) all are vying. I've met Cardin twice including one time on a bicycle ride. He joined the Baltimore Bicycling Club for a 15-miler one Saturday morning several years ago. He came across as a very nice guy who genuinely cares about Maryland. I hope he wins but he has to get past the primary. Steele may have already screwed the pooch trying to distance himself from W last week. In an effort to patch things up, Steele called W his "homeboy". How articulate.

Maryland's race for governor is going to get ugly. Very ugly. Republican incumbent Robert Ehrlich goes up against Baltimore Mayor Martin O'Malley. There is no love lost between these two guys and as we get closer to November, we're going to see a lot of mud. This race, and the US Senate race, are already being closely watched by political strategists from both parties - particularly Republicans - to see just how far down the Bush taint will affect things. (Which is going to be irritating. No one pays much attention to Maryland usually. I'm going to hate it if CNN and Fox News start getting into our knickers. We can elect our own governor thank you very much.) O'Malley is competent but too local to displace the ever-arrogant Ehrlich. Maryland's best hope was in Montgomery County Executive, Doug Duncan, who had to withdraw from the race due to health problems.

Then there's Howard County. Seems like everybody is running for something: county executive, county council, school board, registrar of wills, you name it. Land use and zoning will drive the outcomes. There are a lot of pissed-off Howard Countians right now and a couple of recent decisions - Comp Lite and approval of a 22-story condominium in Columbia - only confirm what everyone here already knows: developers have free reign. Even now, hundreds of candidate signs dot the landscape. There will be a lot of political hay to be made at next week's Howard County Fair.

I'll do my best to keep local politics out of Plugs and Dottles but no promises. These next three months are going to be just too much fun for us Maryland politics junkies.
K-