On The Fly

With Mother’s Day here and the world bustling with cards, brunches, and busy schedules, I find myself reflecting on something a bit simpler: taking a moment to remember the person who helped shape my earliest sense of home. Mauricette Elaine (Bontemps) Ball. My Mom. We arrived in Cuba after leaving La Rochelle, France, in 1959—a transition whose enormity I only fully appreciate now. My mother, barely in her mid-twenties, stepped into Midwestern life with remarkable courage. Her smile could warm the coldest Illinois morning, and her hugs lingered long after she let go—quiet reminders that you were deeply loved. Born February 16, 1934, the third of four children, she grew up in Nazi-occupied La Rochelle. As kids, we listened wide-eyed to stories of soldiers patrolling her streets and fear shadowing everyday life. Yet she carried none of that darkness forward. What endured was resilience and an unwavering devotion to family—qualities she carried across the Atlantic and planted firmly in C...

In this episode, Noirmoutier: An Ocean Between Us, Gone in a Moment. Sometimes love waits half a century for its moment — and when it finally arrives, time doesn’t stand still; it disappears. The moment I stepped off the train in Nantes, it felt like time froze. There she was — my cousin Michèle — waiting on the platform, arms waving desperately. When we finally embraced, the fifty years that had passed between us disappeared in an instant. The melody in her voice was the same, but softer than I remembered. We both shed tears of joy that only come from love long overdue. “I’m so happy you are here,” she whispered, her voice trembling.   Thank goodness for the translation app on my phone, because the conversation began immediately — fast, fluid, and unstoppable. The Frenzy of Catching Up As we drove for about an hour to the tiny town of L’Épine on the Island of Noirmoutier, the words kept tumbling out. Michèle and her husband, Alain, are the most gracious hosts — but my new challe...

✈️  In this special episode: Paris – the End of Silence Sometimes, connection arrives in the most unexpected form—not through grand gestures, but through a quiet voice carried by technology. In a Paris apartment, I finally understood my family’s words . . . and felt my mother’s presence in every sentence. Since I was a little boy, France has been both a beautiful and frustrating paradox in my life. Every six to nine years, my mother, Mauricette, would take my brothers and me back to La Rochelle to visit our French family. The moment we arrived, the air would fill with a sound I loved but couldn’t share in—the rapid-fire, musical rhythm of French. My aunts, uncles, and cousins would warmly sweep me into hugs and kisses, their words flowing like a lovely melody I couldn’t quite catch. I’d smile brightly, trying to communicate with my eyes and hands. But as soon as we stepped off the plane, my mother and her sister-in-law, Joséan, started talking animatedly. They were gone, chatting h...

In today's special episode, The Curious Crew . . .  Oh, our young folks are ready, with AI so grand, A new era of wonders across every land! With curious minds, vast as Space, full of creative delight, And a zest for exploring, with all of their light! They welcome new tools, with a gleam in their eye, To learn and to grow, way up to the sky! Our thinking's a marvel, a clever design, We make new plans, so fantastically fine! With problem-space maps and memories, too, We build new ideas, quite fresh and quite new! With smiling faces, showing gratitude's grace, We find our own wonderful, human-filled place! Sharing a meal with generosity and love, A warm human spirit, a gift from above! We stand tall together, collaborate, and help with a grin, For with Agentic AI, together we win! Not machines all alone, but with us by their side, We'll create and serve, with nothing to hide! I'm Patrick Ball. Stay curious and ask questions. See you next time.

In this episode - Dawn’s Embrace . . .   In the quiet hours before dawn breaks, The darkness whispers, and my spirit wakes. For in my hands, tomorrow lies— A chance to reach, to strive, to rise. With steady focus, I find my way, Turning each task into light for the day. Not every path is smooth or clear, Yet I push forward, shedding fear. Life may bring disappointments, it's true. My dreams are mine, and I'll see them through. My attitude is my own to steer, and No One else shapes the hope I hold dear. So I start each morning with a heart alight, Embracing dawn’s gentle, hopeful sight. For love, for dreams, I’ll build and grow, Sharing this warmth with all I know. In each sunrise, I find the key— The dawn of hope that lives in me.  . . . Welcome to this week's episode of On The Fly . The previous poem was written the day after the election results. Yes, we’ve made it through another presidential election cycle. Everyone at work was gloomy, angry, frustrated, and could not...

In this episode - A Good Cry . . . First, thank you all for your warm, heartfelt wishes and kind words of encouragement about the loss of our dear family member, Junior, the cat. I realize with all that’s happening in the world, the war in Israel and Ukraine, the ridiculous amount of school shootings and gun violence, and in general, the Bad News you hear about every night on the television news, the passing of one cat may seem quiet trivial in perspective. However, I’m afraid our television (TV) generation of violence and killings has calloused our emotional system. Somehow, we’ve become the automatons we fear in the AI sector of our world. Allow me to clarify: in my humble opinion, when you lose a family member, that “force field” surrounding you disappears completely, and if you are human at all, you can’t help but break down suddenly at any given moment into a blubbering mass with a flood of tears and uncontrolled sobbing. In a recent article from the Interesting Facts newslette...

First of all, we want to thank you all for your warm, heartfelt wishes and kind words of encouragement about the loss of our dearest member of the family, Junior. I realize with all that’s happening in the world, the war in Israel, and Ukraine, the ridiculous amount of school shootings and gun violence, and in general, the Bad News you hear about every night on the television, the passing of a cat may seem quiet trivial in perspective.  However, I’m afraid our TV generation of violence and killings has calloused our emotional system, and somehow, we’ve become the automatons we fear in the AI sector of our world. Allow me to remind you of something: when you lose a family member, that shield disappears completely, and if you are human at all, you can’t help but break down suddenly at any given moment into a blubbering mass with tears and uncontrolled sobbing. Thank God for our pets, family, and friends and for building into the human spirit that emotional thermostat. In a recent ...

This morning, there is something missing from my life. There's an empty space on the back of our sofa where my companion Tony Junior (Jr.) usually sleeps or watches the world go by through the window, perched on his soft, red, fuzzy blanket. There, he waits for me to join him in a nap so he can climb onto my chest, settle in, and purr as I gently scratch his chin and behind his left ear. You see, last night, October 10, 2023, Jr. quietly passed at about 11:30 p.m. Needless to say, I’m heartbroken. As I write this, tears are streaming down my cheeks. You see, Jr. was my special friend like no other. He never complained; he was always there to greet me every morning, at night, returning from a mountain trip, or just from a daily walk around the neighborhood. Junior, our indoor cat, had a routine of following me around the house. He never wanted to venture outside - he considered our home “his castle.” I could set my watch to his predictable daily routines. And he knew mine. See What ...

"Don't worry, Mom, if it is your time to leave this world and join Dad in heaven, rest assured I love you; we all love you. We will be fine; you've raised your children well. I will miss you deeply." On October 30, 2018, at 2:15 p.m. Mauricette Elaine Ball (Bontemps) left this world, with her family by her side, in the comfort of her carefully crafted home, finally at rest. My mother was born in La Rochelle, France, on February 16, 1934. She grew up in a metropolitan port with a population of about 60,000 in the late 1950s. Her life dramatically changed at 23 when she met a young man, Donald Lee Ball , from Canton, Ill., while working at the lunch counter on the Army Base where he was stationed in Lagord, France. They married and moved to the rural midwestern town of Cuba, Illinois. Together they raised an upstanding family. Well . . .  Mother cherished her family deeply. There were no Dr. Spock books from the 1960s to instruct her on how to raise her c...