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Showing posts from 2013

Christmas-Eve

“Twas the day before Christmas," and all through our house, Everyone was stirring, including the mouse. The stockings were hung on the mantle with care, In hopes that Junior would not go on a tear. Filled with ornaments and lights, to brighten the season, Our house was all warmed . . . 'gainst the cold was the reason. The family was nestled all snug in their chairs, While the TV was blaring with holiday fares. Me in my sweater, with Junior in my lap, Had just settled in for an afternoon nap. Then the doorbell rang, there arose such a clatter, Junior jumped from my lap to see what was the matter.  Away to the window he flew like a flash, Tore open my leg, while Missy chewed on the sash. The sun on the edge of the newly mowed lawn, Gave warmth to the day as dog-walkers trudged on. When what to my wandering eyes should appear, But gift bearing neighbors, with sweet Christmas cheer. The mother was jolly, so  lively  and quick, I knew in a instant i

What Christmas is All About

Ok, I must be getting older. No Norelco commercials this Christmas season, strangely enough, I miss them. Have you noticed how fast time flies as you get up in years? Wasn’t it just a moment ago that we were seated around our Thanksgiving table enjoying family, friends, and the feast Lori so lovingly prepares for us each year; it sure seems like it. Or was that last year? It's obvious I've totally lost track of time. It's already Christmas Eve and Yes , “Christmas - is - just around the corner.” Admit it, growing up you heard that phrase all the time - well, I did anyway. Those commercials, along with the Coca-Cola Santa, always graced the television airwaves at Christmas time, not anymore. Now Santa is trying to sell you a luxury sports car. As a youngster I was convinced - just around the corner - meant Main Street; Marshall’s Hardware - Santa Land. My brothers and I would make the short trip to town to see all the holiday decorations and toys we wanted Santa to

Doc Welch - The Country Doctor

In this episode, Doc Welch . . . Many authors have characterized life in rural Illinois over the years. Among the more notables are Edgar Lee Masters, who wrote Spoon River Anthology, Carl Sandburg for his poetry and biography of Abraham Lincoln, and little known to me until recently, my first doctor, whom everyone in town always called Doc Welch - James K. Welch, M.D.  (Feb. 7, 1915, to May 5, 1998) While exploring the microfilm of the Cuba Journal (published from 1884 to 1992), I consistently kept running across articles entitled The Country Doctor. This intrigued me. Doc Welch was a third-generation practicing Country Doctor in Cuba for over 40 years. His father, James William Welch, M.D., practiced medicine in Cuba for more than five decades. His grandfather, James Knox Welch, M.D., settled in Cuba after the Civil War. Cuba, Illinois, is a small, rural farming community in west-central Illinois, where I grew up. Like many small towns, it boasts a central square with a bandsta

Thunderstorms

Thunderstorm Video “Looks like rain up ahead,” said my brother Rodger as we left Canton, IL. headed west on the Canton/Cuba blacktop. With a few taps on her phone Lori checked the weather channel, “There are wide bands of thunderstorms headed our way.” Within seconds we were engulfed in a blinding downpour of rain interspersed with pea-sized hail. The car was barraged, the noise overwhelming, as if being shot at with a machine-gun. Instantly we were in complete whiteout conditions - adrenaline shot through my system, my first reaction, check the rear-view mirror, pull over, we’re going to get hit from the rear! I was not driving. We went from 60 miles per hour to almost a complete stop right in the middle of the road . . .  This all began rather innocently early on a Sunday morning while visiting my folks in Cuba, IL. That morning, sitting on the porch, the weather had become unseasonably warm, a blustering wind, bending the trees under its force. Overhead the sky was filled

For the Love of the Game

Boston Red Sox at AT&T Park Probability or coincidence? On August 19, 2013, during this years birthday celebration, among other city sites, we visited AT&T Park, home of the San Francisco Giants. For those who may not realize it, AT&T Park sells out for every game. According to Alex Pavlovic of the San Jose Mercury News, as of September 23, 2013, “The sellout streak is at an MLB-best 240 games heading into a six-game, season-ending homestand.”  Knowing this, our trip was planned months in advance with the purchase of tickets to secure seats. The match-up, the reigning World Series champion San Francisco Giants and the 2013 World Champion Boston Red Sox (though we did not know this at the time). The Giants lost that night behind Tim Lincecum (7-0). I’m a fan of the game and make it a point to watch many (probably too many) ball games on television. Now, deep down, I’m a National league fan at heart (put that designated hitter on the field or the pitcher at the plate

One Summer: America,1927 - Review

U.K. Book Cover Only the most dedicated students of history may remember the "resplendent name of Philo T. Farnsworth" says Bill Bryson in his latest book, One Summer America, 1927 . But could they recall what he patented that year? Did you know 1927 was Yankee sluggers, Lou Gehrig’s and Babe Ruth's best year in Major League Baseball. Or for that matter, baby-boomers, remember - the most famous 25 year-old who captivated the world that summer, Charles Lindberg. Or was it Al Capone, said to be one of the best business minds in recent history.  Without a doubt, my favorite author, Bill Bryson’s new book transcends time to take you back to a year that America lead the way in inventions, culture, movies, sport, and gangsters. One riveting chapter explores how Philo T. Farnsworth (just saying that name is fun) unveiled his all-electronic television prototype—the first of its kind—made possible by a video camera tube or "image dissector." If yo

The Details

In frustration, I whispered back to Peridot, “That’s what I’m trying to do. What am I missing?” We were seated in Florence for dinner with Davies, Richard Leyland, and Renaldo Rossi, across the street from La statue de la Justice. Leyland handed Peridot his parcel, and with a flick of his fingers Peridot opened the paper and that lovely yellowish Green gem appeared.  Identical  to the one I was holding. In his best professor’s voice he began. “Gentleman, it appears we’ve had a slight mixup here.” “How can you be sure?” asked our art collector, Leyland. “Bontemps, what is the unique property that gemologists measure to determine a stones identity?” “It’s refractive index, of course.” I said.”  “Correct, and what is the refractive index of Peridot ?” “ Peridot has a refractive index of 1.654 to 1.690. It exhibits a high birefringence, and a greasy luster.” Peridot raised his index finger. “We need to be more specific my boy. Refractive index is the rati

Consulting

Still reeling from the shock that Dee Davies and Peridot were cousins, we were cordially greeted by Professor Rossi (Peppe) of the Uffizi, and Mr. Richard Leyland, art collector, in the dining establishment across the street from the Column of Justice in Florence. “Good evening gentleman,” said Peridot calmly. As we took our seats my thoughts flashed back to how my alliance with Hercule Peridot had begun. Serendipity, maybe, or was it kismet, as they say in the gem trade? Not long after I was hired to teach at the school of Gemology in 1987, Professor Peridot completed his sabbatical there and resumed his duties at the University in Los Angeles. Peridot and I had kept in contact since our meeting. We had become good friends through our shared hobbies of gemstones and computers. In those early days, much of our correspondence was through a bulletin board service I had built, using hardware which now seems archaic; an 80386 computer with 2,400 baud dial-up modems

The Consummate Reporter

Embarcadero - San Francisco “Isn't it nice that people who prefer Los Angeles to San Francisco live there?” Recently, during a weekend get-a-way to San Francisco, while strolling along the Embarcadero, we ran across this street sign and Lori spontaneously said, “Take a picture of that sign and send it to Russ - he will know who that is for sure.” My response, “Ok, who is Herb Caen ?” “I remember reading his daily syndicated column living in Los Angeles,” said Lori. “He was a California icon.” A quick Google search, turns out, Caen was journalist for the San Francisco Chronicle. He wrote, just shy of 1,000 words a day from 1938-1997 about; local events, social and political happenings, and offbeat narratives that made him a household name throughout the San Francisco Bay Area. A special Pulitzer Prize called him the "voice and conscience" of San Francisco. Huh - I never would have known. “All of this gets written, two-fingered, on an old Royal typewriter,”

Goodbye Summer

The Harvest Moon is your gateway to fall. That crisp, fresh, colorful time of year.  For folks in the Northern Hemisphere, the 2013 autumnal equinox comes on September 22 , so the September 19 full moon counts as the Northern Hemisphere’s Harvest Moon. If you have not seen it be sure to step outside tonight and witness the majesty of nature (provided you have clear skies, of course). Wow! Can you believe summer is over, this year has simply flown by.  It’s early morning and already I’m noticing sunrise creeps over the horizon later and later. Siri tells me, “Sunrise was at 6:35 a.m. today.”  The shorter days bring cooler weather. Soon we will don our jackets for a trip to the market. During the summer, you could enjoy sunrise at 5:42 a.m. (for those who were up). For readers of this blog my summer was an active one. An Alaska cruise vacation , bicycling, morning and evening walks, hiking, visits to the ballpark , and of course this years pièce de résistance , our High Sierra mo

Baseball Everywhere

Southwest Airlines There were no television screens, the flights attendants handled the safety demonstration with no video, and seated around me were multitudes of young people with an iPad, Smartphone, laptop, or some portable electronic device. We had just reached 10,000 feet from our takeoff at San Diego International Airport. The attendants voice comes on the intercom, “You can now use your electronic devices.” Casually I opened the inflight magazine and begin to thumb through the articles. What’s this - Free WiFi complements of DISH Network, watch inflight TV on your portable device. “Baseball Everywhere” is the commercial you hear repeatedly when MLB advertises their AT Bat App, they are not kidding. As of July 2, 2013 - “DISH (NASDAQ:DISH), the leading pay-TV provider, today announced “ TV Flies Free ” marking the first time TV entertainment is free for passengers aboard Southwest Airlines® (NYSE:LUV). Beginning today for Southwest Customers using iPhone®, iPad® an

Autumn Baseball

Oakland Coliseum Baseball is a game of numbers, or is it? The leaves on the maple trees on our street have begun to drop, the lingering daylight is beginning to recede, light rains cool the air, its inevitable, the first sign that fall is on it’s way. Kids are back in school, Labor Day is upon us, and my Cubs, with 25 regular season games left have virtually no chance (again) at the playoffs (see Catching Lightning ). Wait till next year. The lazy days of summer are but a memory and the 2013 baseball season  is winding down. Will this season prove that big money buys a pennant winner, or just lucrative losers? This year I chalked up another stadium on my list of major league baseball parks visited (complete list below). After reading the book Money Ball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game , seeing the Oakland Athletics was a must. It's the story of how Billy Bean, General Manager of the Oakland A's changed the game of baseball using the statistical work of Bill James. Now

Sierra Reflections 2013

Brendan on Buick Rock Ker-Plop! Was the dismal sound I heard surrounded by the rushing waters of the trout stream in the High Sierras, as my Coolpix digital camera sank to the bottom of the river. “Grab it quick, take the battery out, dry it off the best you can” shouted my fishing companion above the roaring waters. Immediately, I reached into the icy cold, crystal clear waters, grabbed the camera before it was washed away in the rushing current. The date, Friday, August 23, 2013. Our Sierra trips were as much about photography as they were about hiking, camping, and exploring. Now all I could think was, Damn! - So much for taking pictures on this trip. We had just arrived for our four day mountain adventure at Parchers Resort west of Bishop California at an elevation of 9,200 feet. Undaunted, we made plans to hike to Bishop Lake (elevation 11,128 feet) and establish a base-camp. This adventure began at the trailhead access point near South Lake (9,750 feet). However, today