Danmancle's Blog

As Rafiki holds up Simba to the admiring animal kingdom (and mesmerized audience) at the beginning of The Lion King, we are ceremoniously introduced to the “circle of life”-  the beginning  and end of life that ties us all together through all of the joy and pain that comes with it.

I recently encountered a series of family events that reminded me of the psychological features of that “circle”.

A few weeks ago we had the joy of babysitting our 3 year old grandson and 1 year old granddaughter (one of 4 princesses in the kingdom – not counting their mothers of course).   One day she was in her normal routine of crawling, stopping, sitting, standing, wobbling, falling down, crawling, stopping, sitting…etc.  She was just at the first stages of taking steps – actually we saw the first 2 taken alone and then a few with a helping hand.  Taking her tiny hand in mine and helping her walk is an unexplainable delight.  She would actually grasp on to a finger or thumb since her hand is too tiny to actually hold properly.   Her tiny hand with mine taking some of her first steps in life-baby steps, clumsy steps, goofy steps, wobbly steps, but oh my – what joyful steps… the beginnings of new life, new avenues, new adventures.  She has no idea of what lies ahead, and she won’t remember this walk with her Grandpa – but I will.

Almost a week later and being back home,  we had the added joy of getting to have a different one of the princesses stay with us for a whole week of our grand parenting experience.   This time, the nearly 6 year old had no problem walking or running or playing, or talking, or jumping, or climbing, or reading or talking, or swimming, or coloring or talking…. Life was busy and full of lots of motion going places and talking about so many things and sharing just about every minute of the day with an inquisitive, enthusiastic, growing child.  Yet there were times that she would put her tiny hand in mine – as her parents had taught her – in crossing the street and walking across the parking lot, or in crowded areas. Instinctively her hand would suddenly grasp mine as we headed somewhere, and just as instinctively would release when all was safe.  But while that tiny hand was in mine she was taking big steps, and sturdy steps, and fast steps, and skipping steps, and oh my – what joyful steps…  the beginning of new challenges, new adventures, new places to go.  She has some idea of what lies ahead, and she probably won’t remember this walk with her Grandpa – but I will.

The day after the exhausted (well we were exhausted, not her) princess left for home, I was called to go out of state to spend time with my Mom.  The circle of life was throwing her some unpleasant curves and I was hoping to help her through it as best as I could.  We spent lots of time in the days that  I was there managing issues and concerns, developing a plan, talking a lot and, mostly and importantly,  just being a son with a Mom.  One day she wanted to get out of the house and go shopping and out to a dinner.  As she got out of the passenger side of the car she told me she needed help walking this time but she didn’t want her walker.  As I came over to help she put her tiny hand in mine and squeezed it tight…  baby steps, clumsy steps, goofy steps, wobbly steps, and oh my – tearful steps… the beginning of the end of adventures, yet new challenges, the discussion of new places to go.  She has a clear idea of what now lies ahead, and she will remember this walk with her son – and so will I.

“One thousand one, one thou… “that was it – under two seconds. That’s all it took.

“One thousand one, one thou… “I didn’t hear a sound, just felt the thrust of the sudden impact then complete stillness. Then screaming, crying, shaking, fear, horror, disbelief.

“One thousand one, one thou…” They say that your life flashes before your eyes in a moment such as this. In this case my wife’s life was flashing before my eyes. I was so worried she was badly hurt. I could only think of her in that second and a half.

“One thousand one, one thou…” the side airbag did just as it had promised. Completely deployed and kept my wife insulated from the intruding steel and potential glass. She was holding her chest and screaming “are they alright? Is anyone else outside hurt?” Of course in the middle of This – she was worried about everybody else.

“One thousand one, one thou…” I got out of my side of the car. My wife could not get out of the driver’s side door. It was no longer a door, but rather a mangled pile of sheet metal. The door armrest was protruding into her side and the seat was smashed inboard and would not move. Our car which we named Sweet Pea nine years earlier had carried us on almost 100,000 miles together. Sweet Pea held up just enough to keep us safe from great harm. She was family and was now dying.

“One thousand one, one thou…” I helped my wife get out of the car getting her unhooked and pulling over the console and to the other side, and then had her sit on the curb beside the cars – she was in a state of shock but no obvious physical injuries.

“One thousand one, one thou…” as I got out I saw that there was a couple in the car that had “T-boned” Sweet Pea. They were both all right. None of their air bags deployed and both seemed actually pretty good. Their Cadillac however had a broken axle and torn off front bumper.

“One thousand one, one thou…” The police came. The tow trucks came and hauled away the cars. Ironically and hauntingly, Sweet Pea’s wipers were moving back and forth as she was being pulled up on to the bed of the tow truck – as if to wave goodbye one last time.

We had taken everything out of the car before having it towed away.  Now it and we were sitting on the curb. We were the last ones still on the scene. We called a cab to come get all our stuff and take us away. We decided to spend the night and fly home the next day. There was no thought given to renting a car and driving 600 miles after this. We went to a walk in clinic to make sure we were not injured beyond soreness and bruising.

“One thousand one, one thou…” It is so hard to believe how lives completely change in less than 2 seconds.

Everyone chooses a wallpaper to keep on their screen to remind themselves of a place or person. Every time they turn on their device, it immediately takes them to that memory. My mind’s eye has a new wallpaper. I did not choose it, I do not want it, I do not like it, and I cannot turn it off.  Every time I close my eyes – there it is -“One thousand one, one thou…”

One of the best parts of still working part time is the friendships I have with the guys I work with at the end of “our hall”.  We have the last 4 offices (2 each side) in the hall way.  We never need to get up and go to each others office – we all just talk out loud and holler at one another.  Don’t get me wrong – these guys work their butts off in a very stressful environment so it is a relief to them to blow off steam occasionally.  The problem is – I am usually the object of their abuse since I am the “old” guy.

They will constantly refer to my ancient project management jobs. “So  Dan, what was it like to be project manager on the Pyramids?”  They made a cartoon figure and superimposed it on a artist’s rendition of the workers on the pyramids with me wearing a hard hat giving orders.  The abuse continues – “What was it like coming over on the Mayflower?”  I respond- “ the voyage was rough, the meals were horrible and I had to row during the storms”.   “What was it like building the Ark with Noah?”  I respond- “It was hard work getting all those animals inside, especially the snakes, but the most tiring part was helping Noah replenish the earth when we landed”.  “What was it like working with Cleopatra?”   I respond- “she was super and she had a great asp.”….and on and on it goes every day.  I will leave early and the comments will start “better hurry up, the jello line runs out at 4:30”. They invite me to the cafeteria for lunch and remark that it is a cool place for me to pick up chicks since “they can’t run away very fast with their walkers”… They asked me if my first computer was an abacus.  Peg actually had one at home for the kids to play with so I brought it to work – it was a hoot.  (I told them it was my new laptop.)

They tell me how concerned they become whenever they see a Silver Alert on the highway signs, and tell me how relieved they are to see me.  One of the guys had just seen the movie Castaway again on TV and asked me what it was like to discover fire.  They asked me what gas prices were like back in high school – I respond that we didn’t have cars yet – we still had a horse and buggy. I would take a girl to the drive in – but just sit there since movies weren’t invented yet.  They asked me if the chariot races were really that exciting in Roman Days.  I stated “not really – the horses kept stopping to poop”.

It is probably one of the reasons I keep working part time – for the guys.  They had a sign on my door one day when I came in to work – It will stay on my door until I am gone – it says “DANGER – Grumpy Old Fart” – The love continues.

I guess I need to do it. I told her I would.  After all it is Valentines weekend. She knows I am not as good as I used to be, not nearly as nimble as when we first did it.  Age makes things more difficult to do.  Parts are rusty and don’t bend as easily.  But, I promised.  I did it last Valentines, so I can’t back out.  I need to just man up and do it with her.  Of course I am talking about yoga – what were you thinking?

It is once again time for the annual YMCA Valentines partner yoga class. Couples come together for an hour of bliss by pulling and pushing and falling over each other – sorta like playing Twister without the alcohol. Most of the men have been teased, threatened, or seduced to participate.  I know this because many have the same look on their faces when we make eye contact – “so you too, huh?”. Nothing says romance better than couples bending, sweating, straining, pulling muscles, falling down and cursing under their breath than partner yoga. Some young man will stand on his head, lean over as far as he can to one side while sticking his knees under his arm pit, twist his left arm to grab his spouses right hand, look gazingly into her big brown bedroom eyes (if he can still see while the blood rushes to his head) and say those magical three little words “don’t let go”! OMG please don’t let go.

Most of the young ones believe their Valentine “gift” awaits them at home for agreeing to do this for their wives. The older ones know better.  Besides, the romantic wave of Bengay flowing over the dinner rolls kinda kills the moment.

I have nothing against yoga (see blog #12), well not much anyway.

Partner yoga is provided to teach us partnership, trust, common goals, improve levels of communication, create unity and harmony, yada, yada, yada. In reality, it shows which guys love their wives enough to embarrass themselves for an hour.  My wife knows I will do anything or go anywhere she asks – but man, nobody wants to see a chubby old man in yoga pants!  As a rule you leave your shoes and dignity at the door.  It will be a “fun” and very interesting hour.  Survival of the fittest, or, who has the best grip. Next month will be couples therapy class.

Namaste y’all

“Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this sun of York:” Thus begins the opening soliloquy by Richard III in Shakespeare’s play (my favorite Shakespeare drama). Richard III has just begun to realize there is a major change about to take place in his mundane life and he plans literally to make things happen for his future. He kills people – lots of people. He marries the queen and sets about changing history.

As I begin my first month of semi retirement I too realized that things would change in my life. Although there is nothing at all similar in my life as in Richard III (other than I also married the queen), it represents the sudden aspect that life is not what it once was. Things will change, can change and I must make some decisions to apply in this new phase of life.

Simple things like trying to keep a schedule, remembering what day it is, knowing which days I need to put on pants, planning to avoid watching tv all day, lose 20 pounds, write more blogs – all good stuff. So one of the first items I took care of – well actually it was taken care of for me by my “golf buddies” (see blog #6). They signed me up for “Senior’s Wonderful World of Golf”. So now beginning this Spring I will join 120 other old fart golfers as we trek around from one golf course to another once every other week for several months enjoying the camaraderie, sharing golf stories (the same ones over and over) , making new friends, playing new courses, and standing around a lot (some of these guys are in their 80s).

As one begins this transition from semi retired to completely retired it is important for one to keep the mind fresh and body active. Hopefully as part of that goal I will be more consistent with the blog and thus we can share this new journey together.

To paraphrase another line from Richard III  “a course! a course!, my kingdom for a (golf)course…”

Not quite sure what to make of it yet, but on Dec 31st I will officially be retiring from full time employment. Peg had already done the same a year ago. All the papers are signed and sealed to begin receiving my Social Security Benefits – whew! I have often heard people state that it is best to have some varied interests to keep oneself occupied upon retiring. Actually I have several interests to keep me mentally and physically busy. I like to golf. My golf buddies (see blog #6) already have me penciled in for a roving golf league next year. I like to read, although my wife thinks the only thing I have ever read is a TV guide. I like to work in the yard especially planting flowers. I like to play soccer, and hopefully I will rejoin the league I have played in for years. I plan to be more diligent with writing blog entries. We can spend as much or little retirement time we choose going to dances- Viennese Waltz – here we come.

I have had to travel a lot the past 4 years for work, but now I will be able to travel for better reasons – Grandchildren. It will be much more pleasant traveling to visit a 3 year old than having to travel to argue with a grown man who acts like a 3 year old. Trying to decipher the goldfish snack cracker laced words coming from one of our toddlers is much more engaging than trying to decipher the profanity laced ramblings of a bombastic contractor. Our kids did well – having our grandchildren timed to meet our retirement.

I thought for fun and posterity (while I can still remember) I would look at all the jobs I had over the years (that actually paid me a pay check). It will be a telling and surprising look back:

Paper route (largest route in Lake County Ohio for now defunct Cleveland Press)
Dry Cleaners – had van route when got drivers license
House painter
Paper Mill assembly line
Real Estate sales (got State license in Ohio when turned 21)
Men’s Clothing store clerk
Door to Door Book Salesman in Tyler Texas (worst job of my life)
Taught Jr High and High School (Licensed in State of Ohio)
High School soccer coach (won conference championship)
Foundry – steel castings
Managed roller skating rink in Indiana (expert at the flea hop)
Pastor of Baptist church (one year) Licensed in Pennsylvania
Part time security guard at discount dept store
Estimator at steel freight car manufacturer
Night assistant at Tennis & Racquetball Club
Book store clerk
Steel fabricator estimator, project manager
Substitute teacher
On site construction project manager
Professional Golfer (just kidding)

The best part of being retired will be that I now will have time to visit all the children and grandchildren without thinking of work, and getting to spend all this new time with my wonderful wife –who I will undoubtedly drive bonkers. Can’t wait!

“ I love Grandpa” she said as she hugged my neck. “That’s my Grandma” he said to a group of new found playmates. “No, Grandpa, that’s not how you do the booty dance”. Such are the heart warming and humorous words out of the mouths of babes – 3 of our group of 5.

Until a recent birthday, we actually had 5 grandchildren under the age of 5 years . Of course we had nothing to do with this achievement, yet get to reap the rewards of seeing little ones grow and change right before our eyes. Probably the only time I had ever been excited previously about the phrase “five under five” was a sandwich special offer at Arby’s. Before I get carried away with expounding on having 5 grandchildren – I am reminded that one of my younger brothers, who also has 3 daughters, currently has 12 grandchildren! You win Bro!

Watching little ones grow and change so rapidly at this stage of their development is delightful, amusing, tearful, life affirming, joyful, humbling, and….you can use all the adjectives. It is wonderful seeing one child come into a “phase” that the previous one went through not too long before. Seeing them notice their fingers for the first time, walk for the first time or use words for the first time just never gets old. Granted, we have seen all this before – we actually had to have children to now have grandchildren, so the development of a child isn’t new – but somehow much different. I think seeing our children now seeing what we saw in them brings an even greater joy . It’s not a “see what WE had to go through” tone but rather “See – look at the joys we got to experience”. We get to be the watchers in the process- watching a child grow through the greatest developmental years to school age.

I have found an insignificant number of times where I would be tempted to say the horrible, eye rolling words, “That’s not how we did it”! I guess not every parent would say this but my God, these kids are doing a super job! Our grandchildren appear to be turning out just fine. The memories once captured with our children are being demonstrated similarly in the next generation and we get to bathe ourselves in the joy all over again.

The paradox in all of this, and one I have mentioned in other blogs is that these memories that bring us such happiness daily are not ones that these little ones will ever have (other than the gazillion photos, Facebook entries and Instagram posts). They are ours alone – and trust me, they are so very special.

I was casually at LGA around 4:20 for my 6:40 flight home. I am one of those goofy people who like to be way early for things, which usually means things get delayed-it’s karma! So on this day my flight was delayed once, then twice, then a third time. Finally, I stopped getting delay notices and the departure time seemed held firmly at 8:27 pm. (about the time I was originally scheduled to be home).
We finally boarded the plane at 8:37 and I had been bumped to 1st class-yay me! I was finally headed for home-so I thought. After a very long time the flight attendant asked for my drink order so she could have it ready when we were at proper altitude. I ordered my cup of hot tea with one Splenda please.

Well we sat a while longer, then started to taxi out to the runway. But then we suddenly stopped- never a good sign. The lights came on and the pilot told us that there were still 15 planes waiting ahead of us. Because of that, they calculated that the pilots would not make it to Greensboro without violating the time allotment they are legally mandated to maintain. The captain said they were negotiating with the union to allow them to continue. After a while, he came back and said they were told no and we would all have to get off the plane. So we all had choice words for Delta (apparently the Other Airlines direct flight left on time) and gathered our belongings to disembark.

“Hold on there, Sparky” said the captain – or something like that. He said that he found two other pilots who would come to our rescue and take over the plane so we could continue – yay Captain. The flight attendants cheerfully distributed our drinks while we waited for our heroes. And waited. “Sorry guys” came the captain once again – after a half hour wait, “rescuers could not make it, you must all leave now.” There is a bus to take you back to the terminal. I gave my half drunk hot tea cup to the flight attendant on my way out with a snarl.

After taking the bus back to the terminal, the lynch mob all gathered at the “help desk” for reassignment. There was one man on duty- of course! I was about 8th in line to discuss my situation – I knew my Delta sky miles status would get me an automatic assignment but I had other issues. As I was in line, my phone told me that indeed I was booked on an early morning direct flight to Greensboro with a complementary first class assigned seat. BUT I had to get home tonight! I had a dentist appointment Thursday morning at 10:00 am that was critical. I had a 3 tooth bridge fall out that had a nasty nail spike in it while I was eating a hot dog on Montague Street. It was very fortunate that I had not swallowed it and risk puncturing something. So I had to get home-waiting overnight was not an option.

As we were all in line, it was overheard that a plane was still available (because it was delayed) going to Raleigh. One lady had to give a presentation the next morning she had worked months on and also needed to get to NC THAT night. As we were in line the one man working said, “you can go over to gate 1 and they can also help” so half the herd broke off with me in front heading to gate 1. While gathering at gate 1 that had 3 workers, one of them said “why are you here? We are busy and can’t help any of you”. I let out a very loud “What the hell are you talking about lady – we were sent here”. She told me to calm down and leave. So I did-well at least I left. The calm down part was not happening.
We all herded back to the help desk, which had already been invaded by many others, causing my place in line to be displaced. Suddenly Brooklyn Danny broke out of me and I pushed to the front and demanded consoling. My comrades didn’t seem to mind since I had blasted the desk in the other line in our entire defense. Anyway I changed my changed ticket to the Raleigh flight, as did several others. I then called and rented a car to be waiting in Raleigh. I helped others who needed info on renting a car also.

The Raleigh flight was then delayed too (of course). It finally boarded at 11:30pm and took off about midnight. The captain said all passengers would be given a free alcoholic beverage when we reached altitude. He did (reached altitude) and we did!

I got my rental car about 1:20 am and drove home, getting in about 2:40 am, made it to dentist at 10 and had my bridge fixed. Holy Moly!

It wasn’t supposed to be hard at all, just an easy gig.

All 4 grandparents were together to watch the little man, our two year old grandson. We would be watching him while his baby sister was being born. So while his parents were “vacationing” in the hospital a few days, we were in charge – or so we thought!

Easy peasy – the whole schedule was written down – a nice flow chart of the day – just a matter of following the plan and using common sense. Come on, he is just 2 years old and we have decades of wisdom and experience.

Suddenly a kink appeared in this pleasant sounding plan – the two Grandmas were “summoned” to come to the hospital to visit the new baby girl – so the 2 Grandpas would stay and be in charge. What could happen? Nothing to it! As he likes to say – Oh,Oh!

As soon as they left, he knew. A wide grin appeared on his face – the challenge was set – how much do these two old dudes know? Love was not an issue – no one could love this little man more than us two grandpas – it came down to stamina and endurance – both physical and mental. How can a little guy move so fast? He has 6 legs and 4 arms and they never stop moving. I watched one of our granddaughters once for almost 24 hours. The most physical move I made was twirling around and trying not to let the princess tiara fall off, or turning pages in the princess book.

But this little guy was fast and strong. Kick the ball, throw the ball, find the ball, kick the ball, throw the ball, find the ball… Where are those grandmas? It’s been an hour already. Build a block tower, knock over a block tower, build a block tower, knock over a block tower, build a block… Where are those grandmas? It’s been 4 hours. Grandpa Eric and I figured the best way to survive was in a tag team mode. When one was in the ring, the other grandpa would sit in the corner and regain strength. When it became too much, the rested Grandpa would tag in. It worked well for chores too. One would make lunch while the other stayed in the battle. One would help him eat, one would clean, etc. Where are those Grandmas? It’s been 8 hours. It took both of us to change his diaper- one to actually change it and one to distract the 6 legs and 10 arms from going completely rogue. It was a fair fight – he got on a clean diaper- finally- we think.

Lunch was done, back to playing before nap time. Is he allowed to do that we asked each other? I don’t know it isn’t on the list. He would test us to see both our knowledge and endurance – he was winning. I thought maybe we could duct tape him in bubble wrap until the Grandmas got home – where were they BTW, it has been 10 hours and they still aren’t back! Finally it was time for him to take his nap. We broke down the routine – one would play, one would do the bottle, one would tell stories, etc. It took both of us though to get the sleep sack on him – it was like trying to dress someone while they are running a three legged race – once again victory – and no tears – at least none by our grandson.

Where are those ladies?? It has been a day and a half and they are not back yet –God please let them come back.

Lunch was done – check, diaper changed – check, sleep sack on- check, bottle ready – check. Little man was finally in his crib for nap time. Our prayer was that the Grandmas would return while he (and us) were napping. For no other reason than his after nap diaper is usually epic! While they were off sipping tea and eating crumpets with the queen and princess, we were in survival mode with a 2 year old. Surely they were stalling – it’s been 3 days – where could they be?

Was he crying? No – just talking to his monkey and bear in his crib. He was surely telling them how easy it has been to wear down these two Grandpas to his mighty will, and how he can’t wait until after nap for round two. I’m sure I could hear him say on the monitor “Maybe I could take them outside and show them how fast I can run.” I stared at the monitor, both hoping he would fall asleep and that I would be jolted by the sound of the Grandmas coming in the door. It has been a week – where are they? Well at least he fell asleep. And so did Grandpa Eric. It was my task to stare at the monitor. At least there had never been a pout or a cry from the little man – how could there be – we did Everything he wanted to do, Whenever he wanted to do it – over and over and over.

Finally he woke up – well Grandpa Eric did anyway. The little man was still asleep. It was a pretty good nap. I was still watching the monitor – there was no way he was climbing out on my watch.

He stirred and started talking to his bed buddies again. Oh No we would have to get him out and start all over again. Where are those Grandmas? They are doing this on purpose.

Grandpa Eric happened to be upstairs where the crib was located – that was great cause that meant Grandpa Eric would get the diaper – the “Big One” as the little man would say in his Hulk Hogan voice. I yelled up the stairs “do you need any help?” Grandpa Eric yelled back “no thanks I can handle it”. Surely he was being macho but quietly wishing I had been upstairs at this precise moment. He probably had some choice words for me as he navigated the disaster area. I wasn’t about to argue – I have had my share of the post nap diaper event. Well at least once – that is a lifetime worth of princess diapers.

It was time to bring the little man down – what great adventures lay ahead for the balance of our shift? Suddenly, like a glorious sunrise – the front door opened and the wondrous Grandmas had returned. The two hours of actual awake time seemed like days, but now the cavalry was here. I don’t think you have ever seen two old men move as fast as we did making our way to the door to leave – it was our turn to go to the hospital to visit the new baby girl. So off we went – taking the D train from Brooklyn to the Upper West Side to the hospital. We had bonded, we had survived, and we ventured new ground as a team together. Now we were just 2 Grandpas on a train – leaving the Prince in good hands as we are off to see the Princess.

There is something special about being with a grandma, especially a really cool one!

I had a remarkable relationship with my grandmother – Nana. Of course she was very young for a grandma – she was 36 when I was born. I was in my 50s when she passed so we had a very long run together.

We had news of another special grandma passing this month in our extended family. It’s so tough because the relationship is so exceptional. That bond of a boy to his grandma – there is very little that compares.

Recently we had the joyous pleasure of watching our grandson for a long weekend. It brought so many thoughts and memories to me of my Grandma – well, as far back as I can remember.
Watching Peg with the little man (photo) was more than precious. It showed the tremendous love, patience and care a special grandma has for a little one. The attention paid back and forth, the quizzical looks, devilish smiles, attempts at trying new words, story times, goodnight hugs and kisses, all wrapped around a grandma’s total concern and loving devotion. Watching them together was a delight.

I hope the little man gets to see us grow older long enough to have many, many memories of absolute joy – just like I did with my Grandma and just like his daddy did with his Grandma. There is something special about Grandmas and their adoring little men, no matter how old they are.