Unless the folks in charge of officials suddenly realize that they’ve left me out of sub-state or state action, my high school season of officiating basketball is over until November. Its kind of a melancholy moment, realizing that you’re not thought highly enough of to get the “great games”but honestly….I’m sore and tired. My whole body hurt by the time the season ended. Oh….by the way…yours truly got three post-season games. My season ended with a flurry of six games in six nights, with the furthest being an hour and a half away on a Monday night. Regardless…here are bullet points of my season:
Last season I assigned five technical fouls. This season only one. I could have had three more very easily but chose instead to talk to the coaches, to calm them down. In hind-sight…I should’ve whacked ’em. All three were sub-varsity coaches behaving poorly. I did the game no favors by letting them pace the sideline, holler like they were coaching the Bulls and question every call. I applaud their passion, though want the game to be the show…not the coach.
I had a (wait for it….) good season. Only one regrettable moment where I put the ball into play without my partners being ready. Sounds innocent enough….right? WRONG. DEAD WRONG. I lost sleep over that brain fart. Lesson learned. It won’t happen again.
I worked a game with the flu. I thought that I was going to die on the way home.Didn’t.
I worked a weeks worth of games with a cold. It felt like my legs were tree stumps. When I work games with a cold I don’t take cold medicine….I gotta keep my focus, even if I feel like a baby treats a diaper.
We have a new partner on our three-man crew for next season. His name is Jon. Jon works out and eats right. Jon’s built like a brick ****house. Our other partner is fifteen years younger than me and works out too. I think that I’m in for some serious body-shaming this upcoming season if I don’t lose ten pounds and get into the gym soon…and stay there. (dammit!!)
No sooner does my high school season end for 2017 when…eleven games for 2017-2018 show up in my email. Eleven!! (This is how nerdy I am…) I’m looking forward to them already. Most are teams that I’ve done before though there are a few new ones there. Good road trips type of games. I. Can’t. Wait!!
Photos gallery of this past season:
Baseball starts in two and a half months. Time to get into the rule book. Sadly…my real love really begins on December 5th….for now. More games should be assigned soon. Thanks for coming along. God bless!
Ahhh….turning 51 tomorrow. What can I say? My celebrity pals have been all over it. Brad Pitt sent me a pair of mittens that he knitted himself (or so he says…). Beyoncé dedicated a song to me at her last concert (or so she says…I wasn’t there. Her concerts are past my bedtime) and Patriots quarterback Tom Brady said that the first touchdown pass that he throws in tonight’s Super Bowl will be for me (he always says crap like that…). Anyway…celebrity notables aside, here’s what’s on my mind as I turn 51:
You know that you’re getting older when the gifts that you receive become more and more about comfort and “socks” are mentioned as your number one item. Instead my beloved bride bought me a really nice chair to sit my dainty derriere into whilst I sit in front of the computer, making funny for you folks. Nicely played Connie Sue.
Failure isn’t fatal. If I had come to this realization forty years earlier I can’t help but think just how different this life would be. In high school I would have danced my ass off at homecoming and prom. Ass….OFF. I would have shot the ball constantly in basketball. You can’t score if you don’t shoot. I probably would have started down a different career path. It’s not that I don’t like what I do now, it’s just maybe these talents would have been better suited elsewhere. At the age of 51…its probably too late to try something different. Everyday I’m around many young people. I encourage them. I let them know that while I am their boss and hold them accountable for their actions that they are valuable and there’s no such thing as a “perfect life”. That todays culture doesn’t put enough importance on being: honest, trustworthy, friendly, moral, having a good work ethic and playing nice with others. That you don’t have to agree with everyone. That life is oftentimes a grind of the boring and mundane. That it’s up to you to make it happen for you. And while I’m at it…making work fun and stable for those under my watch. I really appreciate those tried and true stalwarts of my work day.
Are you like me? Old enough to remember the days when you had to buy a rock groups whole album just to get the ONE song that you really liked? Albums were like ten bucks or more, and unless the group was really good you had just paid ten dollars for one song. That’s why I think ITunes is the bees knees. $1.29 for one song. Just a couplea clicks and its downloaded into your computer. A few more clicks and its burned onto a blank DVD-R for the CD player in my old Chevy truck. Quick survey…who has AC/DC AND the Statler Brothers in their ITunes library? Anyone…? Anyone…? Just…me? Figures. The Class of 57 is GOLD people. GOLD.
Yes, I will be getting back into the gym. Officiating basketball doesn’t really keep a guy fit or build the upper body. Goals set. Failure looms. Let’s see what happens.
At this age I’m probably more apt to call a spade a spade, a drama queen a drama queen and walk away from idiots rather than waste my time and energy.
I traveled to four different countries this past year. Headed to Europe this year. I’m pumped. I’m also pumped to take a two-day road trip, camera in tow, of the back roads of my beloved home state…Iowa. I might even make it a three-day trip.
I haven’t gotten any post-season officiating assignments. There’s still time, I suppose, but I’m skeptical. It’s a bitter pill to swallow when you do your best, get a glowing evaluation from a state clinician at a big time game, love the sport and work on it daily to get better only to be on the outside looking in…left out of the tournament. I had a great season, nothing can diminish that. I’m a good official, and so are the guys on our crew…but it wasn’t meant to be this season. Failure isn’t fatal, but that doesn’t mean that there isn’t a lesson to learn from it. I just don’t know what that lesson is, yet. I’ll have all off-season to mull it over. All. Eight. Months.
I’ll be published!! A magazine contacted me about writing an article for them. Dead serious! I signed a contract and am getting paid to write. I had my right-brained wife (who’s real anal about being smart…cause she is…) proof-read the article prior to submission. She had me add a couple dozen comma’s and apostrophes. Nuff said.
It’s a time of transition. My old classmates are becoming grandparents. Those big-haired, sexy vixens from the early nineteen eighties are now grannies…and are totally rocking it!! I love seeing them with their grandkids on Facebook. It’s also a time when some of my older friends are retiring. What. The. Hell?! I can’t have friends that old…can I? Good for them. AARP has been blowing up my phone trying to get me into their stable of older celebrities. I’m not buying…for now.
This next year I’ll try to shore up some long time friendships that have gotten on the cool side of luke-warm. You may never know what kind of journey someone’s on until you park their ass on a bar stool and buy them a beer, or three.
Thanks to all of you for your friendship, for reading along and commenting. I count myself truly blessed to have each of you in my life. God bless.
Its that time of the season when my body is constantly aching. My legs, calves, ankles, feet and lower back are all requesting a steady diet of Advil. All of the games that looked great last May and June when they were assigned to me have lost some of their shine in the present. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to work them and love officiating its just the price that’s paid to work them. The road trip there, up to an hour or more. The boredom prior to the game, we’re there an hour before tip off and there’s only so much the same three crew mates can talk about. The drive home and subsequent short night of rest before going back into work at 5:30 AM. I love it…though it takes a toll. Its that toll that prompted me to write a short Facebook post about what I’d like the fans, coaches and players to know about the games that I work. I wrote it for family and friends to read. Maybe a hundred people. I wrote it in my usual witty wiseass way making a few valid points along the way. It started getting shared immediately. I changed my privacy settings to Public so that others might be able to read it. As of this morning its had almost three thousand likes and sharesEACH.That’s INSANE. I’ve blogged seriously for several years and have never had a reaction like this. Its been shared over-seas. Its been written about in the Des Register. I’ve had officials from all over contact me and thank me for writing and posting it. There’s a movie deal in the works….(I’m lying now). Seriously though, it’s perplexing to me how its resonated with folks. Over five hundred comments, ninety-nine percent of them extremely positive. A small fraction of the comments were negative. I only deleted one, he was abusive. I kept the other negative comments to show readers what referees are up against. Idiocy. We’re up against idiocy. A few folks wrote that I needed to “get out of the kitchen if you can’t stand the heat” or that I was being “thin-skinned”. A long time coach questioned my motives. Most readers of that post understood that I was being funny with a thread of truth that ran throughout. For a few others I commented that I had originally written this as a humorous post only for family and friends to read…not for the old ball coach at Cornstalk Community High to take as the Gospel. Relax folks…if its on Facebook it’s not necessarily meant to be taken seriously…especially if its from yours truly.
Its been a good season. Post-season officiating assignments are being released tomorrow with more games released later this month. Its a honor to be assigned post-season games. Fingers crossed I’ll get the call.
One sad note, our crew chief Joel is stepping aside. Arthritis in his knees is making the games that we officiate together a painful burden. He’ll still sub in for games when he can, but his departure is leaving a big hole. He’s a big reason that I’ve gotten as far as I have in such a short time. While we’ve gotten a replacement for him, and Jon will fit in just fine, we’ll miss our friend.
Until later please keep in mind that I am:
#1..a wise ass.
#3…don’t believe everything that you read on Facebook.
Fortunately for me I was asked to referee for the Special Olympics basketball tournament again this year. Its one of the highlights of my season. True story.
Five years ago this weekend, in the early morning hours of Sunday, my father passed from his life of pain into Heaven. It was expected. He’d been under Hospice care for a week, at a nursing home. He couldn’t communicate very well, if at all. Struggling to be comfortable. Struggling to breath. Struggling to live. The call came in around 2 in the morning. “Your Dad is dying”. I didn’t make it there in time to say good-bye. At peace…finally.
By the time I came along in 1966 (I was an “oops baby”) he and Mom had two sons ahead of me. The closest in age is Brian, seven years my senior while Dan’s at the top of the batting order being eleven years older than me. By the summer of 1977 I was pretty much an only child. Just me, Dad and Mom. I got spoiled. (if you couldn’t tell that already…) I didn’t wear my brothers hand-me-downs like my next closest brother did. It was Dad who told me repeatedly “You should be a comedian!!” He was always telling us boys how proud he was of us, our wives, our children and how much he loved us and Mom.
Dad was ahead of his time. He communicated really well. Part Archie Bunker, part Mister Rogers, Dad could let you know exactly how he felt. Sometimes bluntly (that guy is as worthless as tits on a boar) or softly when I was old enough to drive myself to parties where prior to leaving for the night he’d square up with me, look me in the eyes and tell me “If you need a ride home tonight…call us. WE LOVE YOU.” I took that seriously. I had a reputation as being a “mama’s boy” in high school. When you’ve got parents as cool as mine…YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT.
Sometime in the late 1980’s or early 1990’s all of us were at Mom and Dad’s for Christmas. All three sons and their families at the same time. Dad and Mom were loving this day. In the tree there were three envelopes. One for each son, a letter in each. I started to read mine, but really didn’t READ it until a day or two later. It was nice. I filed it away in my dresser drawer. I might want it someday.
As we approached the day leading up to Dad’s visitation and funeral I had a strong feeling that I should share the letter that he had given me many Christmas’ ago. I put a copy of it in my pocket and went off to his visitation. I ran into his Pastor, a lady who farmed with her husband in a nearby community. “They’re good people” Dad used to say of them. I gave her the letter and said something along the lines of “if you think this will apply to tomorrows sermon…feel free to use it.” She took it without looking at it, or commenting.
At Dad’s funeral the next day things were progressing along as well as could be expected when the Pastor pulled out Dad’s letter and read it aloud. While I’m glad that I shared it, it was extremely hard to hear it being read and not become emotional. Here it is:
THOUGHTS AND MEMORYS OF THE THREE
GUYS THAT MEAN THE MOST TO ME
Dear Daniel…I’ve loved you the most because you were our first born. You were the beginning of a marriage, a fulfillment of our Love for each other. You held us together through our first years, the first apartment in Furth Germany, our first mode of transportation, FEET. You were new, BOY, we were too. You were the prototype model. You are one of a kind, and you are OURS.
Dear Brian…I’ve loved you the most because you were the center of our family, a tough position. I believe you’re stronger because of it. Your clothes were someone else’s, as were most things. You were the one we started to realize that you were not made of eggs and had a personality of your own. You came at a time of life style change and marriage routine. You were the love of our ambitious years. Our Love for you is SPECIAL.
Dear Richard…I’ve loved you the most because while your Mother and I have grown more experienced we’ve found that things in the beginning thought to be important aren’t necessarily so. Generally endings are sad, but we are not sad, you give us much happiness. You are our link with the past; dates, girls, ballgames, cars, beer, and troubles, and our hope of the future. You’ve quickened our step, lightened our heart and straightened our shoulders and given us a humor that maturity doesn’t provide. You are our Love of Life.
We miss Dad dearly. If there’s a lesson, a take-a-way, from his letter its that you should let your loved ones know how you feel about them. Whether in spoken word, a letter that gets stashed away in a dresser drawer or some other means. Say it. Write it down. Whatever. Do it. They’ll want to hear it. If not today…eventually.
The highlights and lowlights of 2016 (make yourself comfortable….I might go on a rant)
February…I was assigned three post-season basketball games, a personal high for me. It’ll be a tough number to beat but every night on the court I try not to suck. So far….so good. I used to get butterflies before each game, hours before tip. Nowadays I get a little nervous, but only to get the game started and start having fun.
April…I took a cruise in the Caribbean with my best buddy. It was a banner year of travel for yours truly. Haiti, Jamaica, Mexico and Japan. Some of my favorite photos of the year were taken during this cruise. Dave’s my wingman. Has been since August of 1984.
June….a family vacation to Colorado. All five of us. Again…lots of fun, great food and a few memorable photos.
August…the unexpected death of a young friend. I miss him. I was working yesterday when a young man wearing a hoodie turned towards me asked a question, he looked like my friend. It took me aback. His death has affected the way that I manage our young employees. I can’t say that its a better way of managing, but more aware of what’s at stake. Over the course of 27 years I’ve known five employees who’ve taken their own lives. I’ve never come to a reasonable answer for any one of them. As I said before…I miss him.
August…..they flew the coop!! Our two youngest daughters left…in a big way. One to Germany. The other to Japan. Our closest daughter is in Miami…1500 miles away. My wife and I are all alone.
September….we’ve lived in this neighborhood since 2002. We’ve been the “new” neighbors for almost 15 years to our next door neighbors. With Pat and Ed moving into an assisted living apartment and our other neighbor moving to a nearby town…Connie and I are now “old” neighbors. The young couple living next to us put up a privacy fence and don’t let me pet their dog (of all things…?)but at least Jerry and Claire seem more like our kind. Nice…wave if they see you…stop and talk.
October...at my workplace, I started posting videos on our stores Facebook page with the charge of “engage our customers”. Many of the videos that I see on Facebook for our company are…professional though fairly bland, in my opinion. What I did was become Rowdy Rich. I started putting stuff out there with the idea of trying to catch our customers attention with #1…a gimmick (me wearing a pig nose for National Pork Month or something else) and #2…a great price on something that our customers may want. Its resulted in folks enjoying our Facebook videos but as far as driving us towards a sizable sales increase, don’t hold your breath.
November….I traveled to Japan to visit our daughter Karalee. Its a long-ass flight…dead serious, but quite an adventure…and I totally enjoyed myself.
December…I read my Facebook “Year in Review”. Can’t say that I liked it, so I didn’t post it. What I did find interesting is that I “liked” 5300 times. REALLY?! Am I that promiscuous with the “like” button?! Broken down daily…that’s like 15 “likes” a day. I was wondering if I was being too liberal with it, then I realized that I was being totally stupidbecause I’m always going to “like” or react to dog and cat videos, beautiful sunrise/sunset photos, memes that are probably inappropriateand a friend of mine posted her Facebook in review and she had over 10,000 “likes” (BTW…she rarely posts, what she does post isn’t funny and she’s a fairly quiet person….so if anyone has a problem it’s her….not me, cause I’m normal).
Connie left me alone for the holidays. Dead serious. For the last week I’ve been totally alone. Christmas Eve…alone. Christmas morning…alone. Thank God my brother and his wife had me over for Christmas dinner (where I was fed like a King!!). Before you get the tar warmed up and feathers ready, she’s visiting our two daughters. One in Germany and one in Japan, with a quick visit to Sweden where she’s touring where her ancestors lived, not to mention the moose burgers she ate and wine she’s been drinking…all the while “missing you sweetheart!!” That old ruse!! Someone needs to start a business where you can rent a pet for the duration of your wife’s vacation. Her absence would be greatly eased with either a puppy or kitten greeting me every night. Dead serious.
My boss had a baby. So I’m trying to do my job and hers. I can’t really half-ass either and get away with it…so I’ve been going into work on my days off for a few hours and working. I’ve worked 25 hours in two days so far this week! Its okay…I’m just getting a little grumpy towards the end of my work day…especially with no puppy or kitten or wife to greet me at home. Also…since its Christmas break there’s no basketball games to officiate to work off my stress. Honestly…that brings me down as well.
I’m part of Big Brothers/Big Sisters, an organization that pairs at-risk kids with mentors. I’m a Big Brother to a 14 year-old young man. I try to be a good influence on him, take him to movies, dinner, games, try to teach him life-skills, etc. We’ve been together for 2+ years. Recently his mother (and him) won’t respond to me taking him out like we used to do. I’ve been trying for two months with nothing happening. If his mother does reply she says that “he’ll get back to you”. I understand that he’s 14, probably doesn’t think replying to my texts are a big deal…but I wonder if we’re “done”. It kind of made me mad, at first, but perhaps I was only to be a part of his life for these past two years and that’s his journey, not mine. Our case worker is reaching out to him…but I have a feeling that its “over”. If it is…I’d be sad. He doesn’t have a good male role model (not that I’m a Boy Scout by any measure….) in his life. His friends are shoplifting and such, I told his mother that. He might be done with me. I’ll just wait and see.
I hope that your year was a great one. Take care and thanks for coming along.
My trip back to good old America started with me being dropped off in Miyazaki for my overnight stay prior to my flight out the following morning. Miyazaki’s a large city and I readily looked forward to an afternoon to walking around and exploring the sights nearest my hotel. It was a Sunday so not a lot was going on but there was still plenty to take in. Firstly…I loved it. It’s not too often that a middle-aged guy like me anticipates an afternoon of just walking around and looking. I didn’t have my interpreter with me (our daughter Karalee) so finding my way back to my hotel after walking quite a ways from it would be my biggest challenge. I had booked my room through Travelocity.com and was pleasantly surprised how nice it was for only $58 a night (The Sky Tower Hotel). Here are some of the local sights that I found interesting.
So I walked around for a few hours, into the late afternoon, up and down streets and avenues packed with all kinds of shops.
I found, of all places, a “Celtic Sport Pub” where I had a delicious American Blue Moon bottle of beer…for close to $9. Regardless of its high price it tasted awesome. I headed back towards my hotel where I contemplated eating in their hotel restaurant. I hedged thinking that I didn’t fly halfway across the world not to take a chance at a local place. I chose a place and took a seat. Thank goodness that the menu had photos and between me and my server my selection was made without any international incidents occurring.
Fast forward to the next morning. I had set up a taxi ride to the airport in the morning. That went great. Once arriving at the airport the ticket counter couldn’t “find” me. Literally…they had my passport and couldn’t find me on the 11 o’clock flight to Tokyo…and the lack of them understanding English and me Japanese didn’t help. We were about ten minutes into this dilemma when I said “listen…I gotta be on that flight. I’ll buy a ticket and settle up with Travelocity.com when I get home”. The third of the three ticket counter ladies just smiled at me and continued typing away. Sweat beads ran down my back…it was warm and I was stressed. Finally one of the ladies asked if I had kept my old ticket stub from when I had arrived. CHA-CHING!! I had kept it!! I gave it to her and literally (LITERALLY) two minutes later I was walking away with my new ticket.
Fast forward again…I landed in Tokyo’s Haneda airport on time. I had to transfer to Tokyo’s other international airport via a shuttle bus. I had somewhere like six hours before my flight to Chicago boarded. PLENTY of time (or so I thought). I hustled to the shuttle bus ticket area and found…CHAOS. Okay…not chaos…but an alarmingly large selection of transportation venues. I was kind of “oh…sh*t…” (ever been there? Not a good state of mind…am I right?) Anyway…if you believe in God (like I do) you’ll like this. I saw an airport employee, a young 20-something, walking towards me. I got her attention, without looking like a crazed middle-aged American, and asked her where I could buy a shuttle bus ticket to Narita. Get this…she was friendly, she took me to a ticket kiosk, changed its screen to read English, helped me buy the right ticket then led me to the bus stop and put me in the right line (mind you…there’s many buses coming and going by the minute). She was an Angel. Dead serious. My wait for the bus was like two minutes before I was boarded and heading the right way.
Second Angel. As we began our drive to Narita airport, which I thought would be a twenty minute ride, I struck up a conversation with a guy who I was pretty sure would understand English, Thomas. Thomas is black. There aren’t many black people in Japan, like he was the only one in Japan at the time. Anyway…I asked Thomas how long the ride was. He replied “an hour and a half.” Holy cow!! I hadn’t planned for this at all. In my rush to find a ticket counter and thinking that the ride would be a short one I didn’t buy or bring something on the bus to drink, and I was parched! Get this…Thomas not only calmed me down (I’m a little high-strung when traveling…) he gave me his unopened bottle of apple juice (I’m not a big fan of apple juice BUT this one tasted wonderful!!)and gave me a great person to talk and listen to during the ride and told me which stop to get off at once at Narita. Thomas was great. He’s Methodist by the way.
Once I found my gate I had a couple of hours to kill. I was flying back in economy…not quite the business class that I had hoped for…but I was going home. The plane would take off at 6 PM Tokyo time with a 3 PM landing in Chicago.
I used to be a nervous-nelly on flights. Twitching at every little chime, buzz or sound. Not anymore. Old Rich Ripley is a world-traveler. I write. I read. I have a few drinks. I watch TV. Flying over an ocean…? No problem. Forty minutes into our flight we had turbulence. I mean real-live roller coaster, people shouting, plane shaking, pilot telling the flight attendants “ATTENDANTS GET TO YOUR SEATS”. It was scary. I thought to myself “this is the way that Hollywood portrays the moments before a plane crash.” Surprisingly enough…I didn’t get overly concerned, but enough to have an impromptu chat with the Lord concerning aforementioned flight over said ocean. The turbulence only lasted a few minutes…but long enough to leave a lasting impression.
We reached Chicago unscathed. I had to really hustle to make it from my “big jet” gate to my little old “regional jet gate”. I had less than 70 minutes to find my way through customs and on towards my new gate…which I didn’t know where it was…yet.
After clearing customs (when you’re a bigshot like me, they’re just happy to have me back in the States…you feel me?) I was starting to find my bearings as to where I needed to go next. I saw a couple of the flight crew from my flight walking next to me. I made a remark about the turbulence that we had experienced, had a nice laugh and I asked them if I could go out the door that they were exiting by…..and my next Angels were there. They asked me what gate I was flying out from and once they heard that they replied “we’re walking right past it. Come along with us!” Dear Lord…these two attendants made the fifteen minute jaunt through a major international airport, onto a shuttle train, through security and right to my gate back to Iowa so easy. I mean it…our Good and Gracious Lord made coming home so easy. From the girl in Tokyo to Thomas on the shuttle to these two attendants walking me to my gate after working an eleven hour flight…just AWESOME.
My flight back to Cedar Rapids from Chicago is barely thirty minutes long. I look down on the lights of Chicago fading to the east as the darkened farm fields of rural Illinois and Iowa slip under us. I see the Mississippi River, the moon reflecting on it…it won’t be long now. A combine illuminates the corn rows ever so slightly before taking them it. Its funny what a person recognizes, if even from thousands of feet in the air above it. I see a farm houses stretched down rural roads every so often…shining like little warm mercury-lit beacons…like bread crumbs left along a trail…guiding this Iowan back home. We land, the cool early November air washes over me in the jet-bridge. Dear God…what a journey. Thank you for carrying me home.
My days in Japan would usually begin at 2 AM, not because I wanted them to only because my sleep schedule was messed up. Japan is fourteen hours ahead of Iowa time, so ideally it’d be four in the afternoon back home. I’d wake up, check my emails then roll over and try to sleep until five. Eventually I’d get up. make a cup of coffee, put in my ear buds, get dressed for the day then sit and catch up on what was going on back home via the internet. Our daughter has a small apartment so I’m sure that even though I was trying to be quiet I sounded like a bear rummaging through a steel trash can in the middle of the night to Karalee as the walls in her apartment are quite thin. After I got the hang of shopping at their local grocery store I started buying maple rolls for the next days breakfast. I’ll say this about Japanese sweet rolls…they’re not nearly as sweet and sugary as ours, but still tasty. Our trips to the grocery store were one of my favorite things to do, seeing as how I’ve been in that business for close to thirty years.
Once the sun rose I’d set out on a walk around town. There was a high school nearby so I’d stop by there and watch the team practice. They’d practice for several hours each day Monday through Friday, Saturday all day then on Sunday they played a game. Naturally, being the nosy person that I am, I invited myself to the game…where I stood out like a sore thumb. One thing that really impressed me about the boys is their absolute hustle. These kids really busted their butts…doing everything. After five innings they grabbed rakes and groomed the infield while the host team parents came out into the crowd and served us hot tea and snacks…for free. Another thing that I noticed is that no one complained about anything during the game. Nothing…in fact I didn’t hear anything from the parents, cheering or yelling (must be an American thing to yell stuff at the umpire….) I’ve found that the Japanese were abundantly courteous, polite and friendly. Our American culture could take a few cues from them on that front.
My time is Japan is drawing to a close. I had a bit of an adventure coming home. Coming up next time:
A night alone in a big city. Beer me bartender.
Colonel Sanders and I.
You say toilet. I say bidet.
They can’t find me in their system at the airport
How do I find a shuttle ride in Tokyo?
Who’s going to help this old man? (Me. Its me that needed the help)
Did someone say “TURBULANCE?!?!?!
McDonald’s in Japan (my unbiased opinion)
Beer me young lady.
Tommy Lee Jones is two-timing us Americans!!
Until next time, God bless and thanks for coming along.
I stopped in to see you today. I was minding my own business when Gun’s & Roses “Knocking on Heaven’s Door” came on the radio. I’ve heard that song three times since you chose to leave us. On the drive to your visitation. Once in September when I was a block away from you and I stopped in, and this morning when I was three blocks from you. Its like you, or someone else, is nudging me towards you, again.
I honestly don’t know why I stop to see you. You’re not there, just a marker with your name, date of birth and the day you left us. A relatively fresh bouquet of red roses, and one withered arrangement of lavender roses. Some autumn decorations and one heartfelt Ziploc baggie with hearts drawn on with a few cookies in it. We still miss you bro.
As if the holidays weren’t hard enough, a cold cloud of melancholy sadness lies over many of our hearts. “What if…?” still crosses my mind. I’m not alone.
I looked forward to you rolling your eyes at me as you flashed across the front end of our store, on your way to another supervisor call. To you sarcastically telling me how amazed you are at me being able to navigate from one country to another. To you telling me to “get to work”, to how much I looked forward to discussing my trip to Germany with you. I miss your work ethic. You left a huge professional void at our store. I miss talking football with you…and movies.
I’ve wondered why I visit your grave? Throat tight, eyes watery, chest heavy…I guess that I’m no good at grieving someone who shouldn’t be dead…someone whom I love. Do me a favor, Jordan, the next time that you nudge me…nudge me somewhere happy. Thanks bro. Until then…rest my brother, rest.
Todays blog isn’t necessarily a blow-by-blow, in order of sequence kind of read. Rather its more of a “we’re hitting the highlights” of a few days worth of adventures. To bring those of you who didn’t read my previous blog I’m now in Japan visiting our daughter Karalee who teaches English. My first day in Japan was kind of low key. A trip to a kind of large grocery store that sold everything from groceries to clothing to fish hooks to appliances to bicycles (which for a nerd like me who works in a grocery store…was a blast!), a trip to Udo Shrine, new food experiences, morning walks around town and a few road trips.
While waiting for Karalee to get ready for the days activities I kick back and take in an infomercial about the Japanese boy-band Crazy Five. So yeah…
I’d usually wake up every morning at 5, or three in the afternoon Iowa time. Karalee’s apartment is small with thin walls. I’d do my best to be quiet, putting in my earbuds and catching up with world and local events back home on my phone. Its pretty neat that you can stay in touch with loved ones almost instantly even though you’re on the other side of the world. Eventually the sun would rise, I’d get dressed, make my coffee and would head outside for a walk through the neighboring streets. These were some of my favorite times…just me, my camera and who knows what’s going to happen.
Japanese signs use quite a bit of English on them, or at least enough to get their point across. I’d venture a guess that the average American could figure out what most of the signs meant.
Along the coast there were some guys surfing…and some stunningly beautiful scenery. My videos do NOT do it justice.
I wanted to try new and different foods. To get out of my comfort-zone so to speak. I don’t have the kind of stomach that allows for anything too crazy but I really enjoyed this restaurants food. Gyoza (deep fried pot stickers…my favorite), potato cheese Mochi and (for lack of a better description….fried chicken meat with tartar sauce on it (not too shabby). I pretty much tried whatever looked good and came away from it just fine. Dietary indemnity isn’t something that comes easily to me, but only one thing put a momentary standstill in our plans in that regard. Another noteworthy difference between Japan and America, their convenience stores sell a lot of great food. Dead serious, I ate at them at least once a day. Lawson Stations and 7-11’s rock, and they don’t sell gas, or much pop (and definitely no fountain pop).
Karalee chauffeured me around the area, in one instance driving us an hour and a half to the coast. Beautiful mountains, deep gorges and mountain rivers were the eye candy of the day. If you had told me seven years ago when I was teaching Karalee to how to drive that she’d one day be driving me around the mountains of Japan, through tunnels and over high bridges it’d have blown my mind.
….and I did some modeling while in Japan…just to make a little extra coin while I was there. True story…
There’s still more to come later this week!! Thanks for coming along. Take care and God bless!