A QUIET SUNDAY MORNING

 

          Typically, our Sunday mornings are very quiet….not today!!

          It started out quiet.  I was out of bed around 8:45 AM, in time to start my usual routine of watching Sunday Morning with Jane Pauley while Pete fixes breakfast. 

          I was returning from the kitchen when I noticed a visitor at our front door.  I usually have the front door open with the glass storm door allowing more light into our living room.

          There standing at the door was a black, pit bull mix.  I’m a little more cautious than I have been over the years, since I was attacked by a dog and had rather significant damage done to my right leg.  But this guy, he was kind of bouncing all over the place, wagging his tail and smiling that cute doggy smile. 

          Pete hesitated for a moment but then I went out and he was very friendly and managed to work his way into the house.  I knew immediately that he wasn’t a stray as he made his self very comfortable very quickly.  I could tell right away that he was rather young, maybe not even a year yet, as he had plenty of strength and again, was very bouncy. 

          We managed to hold him in one place for a second and found no information on his collar.  While we haven’t had any dogs since Sonny and Cher, I still have an old leash, got that attached to his collar and then headed outside with him.  Pete thought he might belong to a neighbor across the road from us. 

          I headed across the street, knocked on the door, and was greeted by a nice couple who said, “No, the dog is not ours.”  She offered to take his photo and post it to see if we could learn where he belonged.  While that was going on Ashley, another neighbor came over and shared that he had been hanging out with her ducks this AM.  Ashley, said, he might belong at another house a few houses down, so we walked down there but again, the answer was no.  That lady also offered to take his photo and post it. 

          So, then Ashley and I headed back to my house, I let him loose in our fenced in back yard while we discussed next steps.  Ashley went to her house to get some dog food and bowls in case he was hungry, and by the time she was headed back, she had found a post where he was listed as missing.  His name is Shadow and the owners lived about 2 miles away.

          Within about 15 minutes the owner showed up in his truck and was very happy to retrieve his dog.  Ashley suggested that he might want to put a phone number on his collar for the next time he gets out.

          Wish I had thought to take a photo, but I didn’t.  He was adorable and I’m very glad we found his owners. 

          It was a very nice way to spend a Sunday morning.

THE END OF SUMMER

           Labor Day Weekend is one of my favorite holidays, for 1 very specific reason, it is the weekend that since 1977 the WEBN Fireworks has taken place on the Ohio River.  

                                                    Joe Simon For The Enquirer

In some ways, Cincinnati has a very unique personality.  It was the first city west of the Alleghenies.  It is home to the first major league baseball team.  It also hosts, since 1977, the Midwest largest fireworks display…..not for Fourth of July (oh no, that would be far too obvious), but rather for Labor Day Weekend, celebrating the end of summer. 

I remember the August 30, 1977 first Riverfest celebration very well.  I had returned to my home just a year prior from my wanderings between Alaska and Guam.  I was working at the University of Cincinnati.  WEBN was the hard rock radio station that was no doubt the most popular in the city.  WEBN wanted to celebrate its 10^th anniversary so came up with the idea of a fireworks display that would be huge, and boy, did they deliver. 

The display was put on by Rozzi Fireworks and was the largest and loudest that I had every witnessed.  Fewer than 70,000 people attended that first year, but we all got a spectacular fireworks display.  On both sides of the river people were going nuts. 

The one image that stands out most clearly in my memory was at the end, as we were all leaving.  I passed a group of people who were circled around a dog who had collapsed, obviously in distress from the very loud, prolonged finale of the display.  I walked pass, wondering how stupid could someone be to bring their dog to an overly crowded, excessively loud display.  I often wondered if the animal survived. These days there are rules 2 ….no alcohol…..no pets.

 Joe Simon For The Enquirer 

Over the years the event has become even more massive, 2025 estimate being 500,000.  That means parking is a chore.  In the past I have ridden down to the river on the back of a boyfriend’s motorcycle, which made parking super simple.  I’ve taken the bus down (then had to walk back up to Clifton, as the bus was too crowded to ride).  I’ve attended on both the Ohio side and Kentucky sides of the Ohio River.  Pete and I partied at a friend’s house from 13 blocks south of the river where we had an ideal view of the display (parking was still a chore).  I’ve been invited to a party in a high rise directly on the river with a river facing view so we were literally in the middle of the display.  Over the years it’s been a real adventure.

In recent years though, Pete and I have reverted to watching the display on TV.  No, it is not nearly the same experience.  You don’t feel the explosions on your chest.  You don’t smell the fumes of the explosions.  You don’t have people screaming in your ears.  And you don’t have to worry about how long it will take to get out of the traffic jam of 500,000 people leaving at the same time. 

Instead, after 45 minutes you turn off the TV, head for the bedroom and call it a night. 

It’s a great way to end summer.

YOU MADE MY DAY

     So, I have to share this story from something that happened yesterday.  It is just too darned cute.

I went to AAA yesterday for my usual oil change.  Got checked in, they had my car, when I noticed two young boys running around.  They were probably 5 or 6 years old and looked to be twins.  They were with Grandpa and he seemed to be spending a lot of time in the foyer of this business.

Anyway, at one point, the guy who was checking us in stepped from behind his desk and the first thing you noticed about him was that he had a prosthetic leg.  He was wearing shorts so it was totally noticeable. 

When he stepped from behind his desk the twins stopped their running around and stared at him with something akin to horror in their eyes.  They both stepped up to Grandpa and stayed close at hand still staring at the clerk.

Shortly the Grandpa moved on to another section of the room and the clerk was back behind his desk.    

A few minutes later I walked up to the clerk and said, “You ought to talk to those boys about your leg.”  He acknowledged that he noticed their response as well.  I then shared a story from my distant past. 

For a short time, while I lived in Fairbanks, AK, I was a Girl Scout leader.  One day I took my troop of 11/12-year-olds to the community pool to work on a swimming badge.   As we entered the lobby of the building another group was leaving.  They were a group of people who all had pretty severe mental disabilities.  Just like those twins, my girls hovered around me with fear in their eyes.  I went up to the adult of the group and asked if she could come to our next troop meeting and talk to the girls about her group.  She came, did an excellent job at explaining who they were and why they were in her care.  The girls seemed to get it and asked lots of good questions.

The AAA clerk looked at me, smiled, and then went on with his day.  An hour later, when I was checking out, he approached me and said…I talked to those boys.  They asked me what happened to my leg.  He told them, “I didn’t take care of myself, I didn’t eat my vegetables.”

I let out with a chuckle and went on my way.

I sure hope the message took with those boys, in a totally different way than I was expecting.

And thank you AAA clerk, for being so compassionate and caring of two young boys.  You made my day.

LOOKING BACK

             It’s that time of week again.  Time to sit at the computer and think about the week.  This week, it’s about a book.

          I’ve shared thoughts about books before, so sorry if this is boring for some of you, but for me, books open up tons of new worlds and often touches on memories that need to be refreshed.

          This week the book is Kristin Hannah’s The Women.  Once again, one of her very powerful stories.  The first book of hers that I ever read was The Nightengale which I finished reading in the jungles of Costa Rica.  Thankfully so as the end was so powerful that I couldn’t stop crying.

          Well, The Women has had the same effect except that I am not crying (At least not yet).  It is the story of a very naive young woman who joins the Army Nurses Corps and heads off to Viet Nam.  This story overwhelms me with the research that Kristin Hannah had to do to write such a novel.

          It hits me hard for several reasons.  First, it starts in 1966, the year I graduated from high school.  I remember well some of my male classmates heading out to that war…. some never to return, some so traumatized by their experience that they never returned in a different way.

          I remember the protests and the news coverage that was never ending in those years. 

          What this book opens up is the story of the women who served, not in combat, but who nonetheless were there and were impacted in the same way as the men. 

          And the memory the book resurfaces is of my Mom’s experience as a Navy nurse during WWII.  I grew up on her stories of that war, totally different from what I suppose was the male version of the experience.

          She served in the South Pacific: Philippines, Australia, Guam, and Papua New Guinea among others.  Always immediately behind battle lines.  She never told explicit details from the OR, but this book fills in those blanks.  It provides me an entirely new vision of what her life had to have been like.

          It also explains one mystery.  In 1970 Mom and I went to the theater to see the newly released movie, M*A*S*H.  We were there about 10 minutes when Mom rose up, rushed out and was furious.  The only thing she said was, “It wasn’t like that at all.”  She never explained herself and I had to go back later to see the movie with a friend.  I didn’t understand her fury until I read this book. 

          The description in the book of what went on in those field hospitals is really beyond comprehension and now I understand Mom’s anger….55 years later.

          I love the book, it tells a heroic, tragic, compassionate story.  And my mind lingers on how many men and women had this experience, who came home and lived through it.

          It explains a lot.

OH, THE JOYS OF TRAVEL

 

This past weekend I took a trip from Cincinnati to Seattle, WA, eventually ending up in Bellingham, WA for a friend’s wedding reception.  I made this very quick trip because the bride is a friend I have known since she was 3 years old.  I kind of see her as a ‘daughter by another mother.’

It's been a while since I did any flying and there was a time I used to love to travel.  I may have changed my mind as a result of this week’s trip.

Let me first say, before I get started on this rant….that the celebration itself was awesome.  It was held outside with perfect weather.  The entire Saturday and Sunday was well planned and absolutely glorious!!!  I was so thrilled and happy for my dear friend.  However, getting there and getting home was an entirely different story!!!

          It started with a confirmation email from Budget Rental regarding my car reservation.  In that email it confirmed that my pick-up time on Friday was 5 AM!!!  I was still in bed in my home at 5 AM!!!  I know for a fact that I did not enter that information.  Somewhere along the way the Budget system experienced a glitch….to put it mildly. 

          I immediately called Budget and of course got a representative whom I could barely understand due to a very thick foreign accent.  I explained my situation; she pulled up my reservation and confirmed that indeed my expected pick-up time for the car was 5 AM.  She assured me that the reservation would be held for 15 hours.  I did the math and realized I would be cutting it very close, assuming my flights would proceed on time.  I asked if we could change my pick-up time to 6 PM, she immediately said there were no cars available.  So, I stressed about that the rest of the day.

          Moving ahead, I arrived at the Cincinnati airport checked my baggage, got my boarding pass and headed for the gate.  Of course, the gate was 3 miles away and I had to get through TSA.  Next hurdle!!

In 2013 I fell at a West Virginia state park and broke my ankle.  Repair required surgery which included a screw in my right ankle.  For the first time ever the scanner at TSA picked up that screw.  They had me go through the scanner 3 times and then once with my shoes off.  That time I saw the scan and asked if that was my right leg where the indicator was.  She said yes.  I said, I have a medical screw in that ankle.  They had me go through one more time, then pat me down, looked through my shoes and then let me go on my way.

Finally, I got to the gate, sat down, looked at my boarding pass, and read the name, Martha Hall!!!!  WHAT THE HELL!!!!  I wasn’t even about to go back to the check-in desk, not walk 3 miles and then have to go through TSA again.  So, I sat there, hoping the gate agent could fix the mess, stressing out about something else for 1.5 hours.  He showed up 30 minutes before boarding time and said WHAT THE HELL!! Someone sure fucked up!!  And then fixed the mess!!!

The flight was fine.  Gorgeous weather, very little bouncing and nice seat mates.

Got to Seattle, went to pick up my car, hoping like crazy that my reservation was still good.  Got to the counter, there was a mile long line waiting for their cars and NOT A SINGLE AGENT AT THE COUNTER.  We were all standing around, looking around, wondering ‘What the heck!”  About 10 minutes later agents started showing up, 1 person at a time.  I guess they all went on break at the same time….or something???  Anyway, when it was my turn, the agent took my ID, processed my reservation and sent me on my way.  Not a word about the 5 AM pick up.

So, now I was 2 hours from Bellingham, it was 8 PM and boy, was I tired.  All interstate driving, so piece of cake.  Right??  Wrong??  If anyone reading this has ever driven through Atlanta, GA, you will know immediately what I am about to describe.  Interstate 5 in Seattle goes through downtown Seattle exactly the same was I-75 goes through Atlanta.  Nothing but car back-up after car back-up after car-back up.  No construction, no accidents, just volume of traffic that the road can’t handle.  I should have been in Bellingham around 10 PM, it was after midnight when I hit my hotel bed.  I was asleep immediately.

Next 2 days were perfect.  Now it’s Monday morning and I’m headed back to the Seattle airport.  I anticipate the slow driving time since I now know what I’m dealing with.  I plan to leave around 8:30 AM for a departure time from the airport at 1 PM.  I ended up leaving at 7:30 PM as I woke up around 3 AM and could not get back to sleep. Oh boy, was that even worse!!!  Of course I should have expected it.  After all it was Monday morning rush hour!!!

About 10 miles north of Seattle the traffic came to a stop.  And I do mean a stop.  The traffic crawled, crawled, crawled.  Again, no construction, no accidents, just volume.  I watched the time slipping away, I watch the gas tank getting emptier and emptier and I just knew I was not going to make that flight.  Finally, when you are about ¾ way through downtown Seattle, I-90 splits off from I-5 and the traffic cleared.  I got there in plenty of time and did not run out of gas. 

Story over??  Not quite!!!

I dropped off the rental car, went 2 floors up to catch the bus for a ride to the terminal and realize I have left my purse in the car.  I rush back down 3 flights, WRONG, look around and realize my car is not there, an employee comes by and asks me if I am lost.  The sweetheart got me on an elevator, got off the elevator with me and pointed me in the right direction.  The car was still there; my purse was still there and finally I was on my way to the terminal.

The rest of the trip went fine except the flight from Midway to Cincinnati was delayed.  When I finally got home, in bed it was 1:06 AM.  One really long, long day.

Think I’ll stay home for a bit.