Posted in travel

Mulligans in Michigan

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by Bob Sparrow

Traverse City, Michigan

It had been thirteen years since I jumped on a plane in Orange County to Detroit on a Monday morning to go to work, and then flew home on Friday night – yes, I ‘commuted’ to Troy, Michigan, mostly every week for five years, so I knew the way to Michigan.  But this trip was not about work, it was about golf.  Actually, it turned out that golf was a lot of work!  The Sagers, Budds, VanBoxmeers, and us, headed to Traverse City in northern Michigan to enjoy four of the over 1,000 golf courses in the state of Michigan.  Those who have been to northern Michigan understand just how beautiful it is – lots of trees and everything is so green!  We got lucky with the weather, as it was not too hot, not too humid, but, as Goldilocks would say, “Just right”.  Our lodging for the first half of the week was in an awesome, four-bedroom condo at the A-Ga-Ming golf complex.

We traveled on a Sunday and had a tee time at the A-Ga-Ming Sundance course set for Monday morning, but the Sagers’ and VanBoxmeers’ golf clubs decided they wanted to spend some extra time in Dallas.  So, no golf on Monday; our free day of Tuesday was rescheduled for golf and on our golf day of Monday was rescheduled for a self-directed tour of Traverse City, where we had lunch on the roof top bar of the Hotel Indigo, that provided us a beautiful view of the West Arm of Grand Traverse Bay.

Happy to be playing the 19th hole

We took this free day as an opportunity to visit an old friend of Linda’s and mine, Shiela Nittman, who used to live in our neighborhood back in Orange, but she and husband, Helmut, were now retiring in their beautiful second home overlooking Torch Lake, which was only about twenty minutes from where we were staying.  It was a great visit, as Shiela regaled us with stories of the surrounding area.

Later that day we also visited a friend of John’s, Cindy, who lived in the area and used to own the Colorado Mining Co. restaurant in Denver and knew John when he played for the Denver Avalanche, NHL hockey team.  She had one story after another, either about the hockey players coming into the restaurant and causing havoc, or the night Elvis came in and they made him a huge peanut butter, jelly and bacon sandwich.  We ended the evening having some indigenous white fish and walleye at Gray Gables, a nice restaurant in Charlevoix.

Room from The Adventures of Ozzie & Harriet

Looking for golf balls in a field of sunflowers

After another day of bad golf for me, we changed locations from our four-bedroom condo in Ag-A-Ming to the Grand Traverse Resort & Spa, a nice, but dated, facility.  Our room looked like something right out of 50s.  We had a free day, meaning no golf, to just tour the area, so we went into Traverse City for breakfast, then stopped by a large field of sunflowers that we spotted along the road; there was a place to pull over and take photos, so we did.  Dinner on the 15th floor of the Grand Traverse Resort & Spa building – beautiful view, just an OK dinner.

After three rounds of frustrating golf for ‘Double Bogey Bob’, that’s me, I can’t tell you how excited I was that we booked the Jack Nichlaus designed course, ‘The Bear’ for our last day of golf in Michigan.  Here’s the description of the course:

“One of the toughest golf courses in America, featuring Scottish terraced fairways, tiered greens, deep grassy roughs, moguls, mounds and deep pot bunkers, along with lakes, ponds, forests, streams and fruit orchards.”

Another broken club!!!

The course was about this friendly

Oh great, all that to deal with plus FRUIT ORCHARDS . . . on a golf course??!!  I didn’t sleep well the night before, wondering whether I had enough balls to get through even the front nine!  But, as it turned out, it wasn’t as bad as it sounded . . . IT WAS WORSE!!!  It took three hours to play the front nine!!!  Not wanting to miss our dinner reservation and being totally frustrated with ‘The Bear’, we quit after 12 holes and headed to the showers!  Travel tip: Don’t play this course unless you are a very good golfer, are in a very good mood and have plenty of time . . . and balls!

Our last supper was at the Turtle Creek Hotel & Casino, and it was probably our best of the trip, made better by the fact that Camus wine was half-priced, and after what we’d been through, we all needed something to help us forget that round, or two-thirds of a round, of golf.

Northern Michigan golf: Check

 

 

 

Posted in Family

WHAT WE LEAVE BEHIND

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By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

Thank you to everyone who responded to my post about the passing of my husband, Alan.  It has been a trying few weeks, but your notes and good wishes made a bad situation just a bit brighter.  I do not plan to dwell on this subject, and I promise that in my next blog I will return to writing about fun subjects like why we have national donut day or rant about what is going to happen to the Rose Bowl now that the Pac 12 is the Pac 4.  But today I want to share some thoughts about my experience that might be of help to you.

As regular readers of this blog know, last fall my friend Pat Miles Zimmerman and I published a book that built on her experience after her husband died.  Over the two years that it took to complete the book I listened to the widows’ experiences and read the advice from professionals in an interested, but perhaps detached, way.  After all, I was not a widow.  I did learn some tips from the chapters on legal and financial issues, but being the Type A that I am, I already had my affairs in order, had a great estate attorney and a trusted financial advisor of 20 years.  The other chapters, dealing with more emotional issues I read with interest, but could not relate to them.  Now, all of the sadness and sentiment of being widowed has hit me full force, and it is a gut-wrenching experience. So, here is some advice, that I strongly encourage you to consider.

First, what we leave behind for our surviving spouse can greatly influence the grieving process.  Because I had everything in order, in the few days Alan and I had after his diagnosis we were able to spend them talking about our life together, our family, and what he wanted for my future.  I did not have to scurry to collect passwords, bank account information or try to understand our investment strategies.  This has been invaluable.  I have read that losing a spouse is the worst kind of grief because it affects every single thing you do from the moment you wake up to the time you go to sleep.  It has been much harder than I anticipated, but at least I am afforded the luxury of simply missing him.  I cannot imagine that hurt being exacerbated by stress over not knowing how to pay bills or how to access his iPhone.  I urge everyone to get your affairs in order ahead of a crisis – it will pay great dividends in your emotional well-being and to some extent, help in the grieving process.  Last week one of Alan’s closest friends prepared a binder for his wife that contains all of the pertinent information she will need when he passes.  He told her, “This is for Alan.”  It touched me that Alan’s spirit left behind such a thoughtful, and practical, gesture.

Second, the legacy we leave behind is greatly influenced by how we treat everyone with whom we come into contact.  I have been overwhelmed by the beautiful cards and letters that friends have sent me, some relating stories about Alan and how they met him.  But I have been particularly touched by the employees at our club that have reached out to me expressing their sorrow at his passing.  They all said the same thing: he was always nice to them.  As one of the staff said, “I will miss him.  He was a good man.”  His niceness extended to others who worked with us. Two days after Alan died our air conditioner experienced a problem.  Ken, our regular A/C technician came to fix it and asked me where Alan was.  When he learned of his death, Ken got tears in his eyes and gave me a big hug.  He said, “He was always so good to me – made sure that I had water when it was hot and lent a hand when I needed it.” It makes me happy that the legacy of being good to people is also part of what Alan left behind.

Finally, maybe it pays to leave something a little quirky behind just to make your loved one smile.  I have gradually been going through Alan’s things, distributing sentimental items to the family, particularly his two sets of golf clubs which our two grandsons now possess.  I know that would make him very happy.  But he also left behind some curious items, among them 13 (!) new golf gloves, most still in the original packaging.  All I can imagine is that with all of his trips to the PGA Superstore he occasionally felt the need to purchase something, so he settled on golf gloves.  I had to laugh when I found them, and now our son-in-law won’t have to buy golf gloves for many years to come. I loved that Alan is still making me laugh, even after he’s gone.

Again, thank you for reaching out and all of your nice comments.  I know that I will eventually create a new normal.  I believe that life can still be beautiful, even when there’s broken parts.

Posted in Family

A Time of Tragedy & Comedy

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by Bob Sparrow

This theater logo, of the famous faces – Melpomene (tragedy) and Thalia (comedy), which is Greek in origin, has come to symbolize the last few weeks for me.  Incredible highs and incredible lows.  The tragedy obviously comes from the passing of Suzanne’s husband, Alan, in late July.  We all cried when we read the beautiful tribute she wrote here last week.  The comedy comes from a family reunion that was planned months ago and was on the weekend that immediately followed Alan’s passing.  While our hearts were with Suzanne, in Arizona, our funny bones were in our backyard during the ‘Gathering of Sparrows’.  This family’s sense of humor can be attributed to one man, our father, the original Jack Sparrow, or Poppins, as he was affectionately known.  Aside from being one of the nicest and most gentlemanly people that God put on this earth, he had a tremendous sense of humor, that has been passed on to his children, to our children, and to their children.  What an amazing legacy!

Poppins

The following are the players who attended the reunion, or ‘ReOnion’, as we called it, because . . . well, it sounded stupid: Brother Jack Sparrow and wife, Sharon; Jack’s kids Shelly, who flew in from Tucson and her daughter, Kate, who flew in from northern California; Jack’s son, Matt, who drove in from Tucson with his son, Jackson and daughter, Madelyn.  Sharon’s son, Brad, his wife Betsy and their three kids, Riley, Allie and Zack, who drove all the way from Placentia.  My kid, Stephanie and her husband Jason, and their two kids, Dylan and Emma; and Linda and my kids, Dana and husband, Joe, and their two kids, Addison and Mack, and our son, Jeff and his wife, Pam.   Great music was provided by participants who forwarded me their favorite songs that I put on a playlist that ended up being over 250 songs long.

Most of the time was spent outside, with the young kids in the pool and the adults trying to figure out if they wanted another pina colada from the never-ending machine, a cold Landshark from the beer cooler or a Klapper (cheap rum and diet cola) – some put a lime in it for a ‘Dapper Klapper’, there was also the option of using non-caffeinated cola, ‘Napper Klapper’, but no one was napping this weekend!  Cigars were also plentiful.  ‘Butcher Block Joe’, provided one of the tastiest BBQs I’ve ever had, with ribs, chicken, pulled pork and brisket – soooooooooooooooo good!!  Dana’s key lime pie put a perfect period at the end of that delicious sentence.  After dinner drinks included, pina coladas, Landsharks, Klap . . . OK, you know the drill.

Hoping that a picture is worth a lot more than my words, following are some photos from the event; the first being the ‘Hat Parade’ – where everyone had to wear a hat.  It seems I have a hat fetish, as I’ve got a closet full of them, so I felt it was time to come out of the closet . . . with my hats!!

Jackson’s ‘long arms’ provided the selfie of the ‘Hat Parade’

 

Pizza at the ‘Kids Table’

Kat & Madelyn – Two Beautiful Sparrows

 

Capt. Jack Sparrow at the ‘Wall of Masks’

 

 

 

 

 

Great food thanks to Joe & Dana

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A mustachiod Mac looking very suspecious

‘The Kids’ – Dana, Matt, Steph, Shelley, Jeff

‘Clinging Cousins’ Ems & Adz

We missed you, Sis!!!

Oh yeah, the other event that occurred is that I achieved one of the two major goals that every golfer has.  The first goal  being a ‘hole in one’, which I have never had in all my 66 years of golfing; the second is ‘shooting your age’, which I did accomplish last month by shooting a 79 at Yorba Linda Country Club.  I thought I was going to have to wait until I played ‘miniature golf’ when I was 104!

 

Posted in opinion

WALKING A GOOD MAN HOME

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By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

My dear husband, Alan, passed away on Friday.  He has had a tough year, diagnosed with early Alzheimer’s, tongue cancer, c diff, COVID, hospitalization for a second bout of c diff, and heart rhythm problems.  Yet through all of that he kept an upbeat attitude and his wonderful sense of humor. In February he had successful surgery on his tongue, but oral cancers are usually aggressive and by mid-July he began having problems swallowing.  On July 19th a scan showed the cancer had recurred and there was wide-spread metastasis.  No further treatment was possible.  He went into Hospice on July 25th and died July 28th.

Indulge me in writing a bit about him.  He was born in the Philippines just prior to the outbreak of WWII; his father was a Scottish businessman stationed in Manila.  When the war broke out, Alan, his parents and brother were all interned in a Japanese prisoner of war camp.  It was as grim as you might imagine, in the end living on one cup of rice for the family and sheltered only in a lean-to shanty. They were rescued in February 1945 and chose to immigrate to the United States.  They settled in Pasadena, California, where Alan grew up and was involved in sports, achieved Eagle Scout rank and according to his mother, excelled in creating general mayhem.  He always had a twinkle in his eye and an ability to schmooze that served him well over the years.  His profession was in marketing for large commercial insurance companies, and he was well-suited to the job.

Alan had two children he adored: a son, Colin and a daughter, Wendy.  He considered Wendy’s husband, Steve, to be like a son. Alan loved being a “Grandpa” to Wendy’s two boys, Matthew and Jake.  They held a treasured place in his heart and they had him wrapped around their tiny fingers from the moment they were born.

He explored many hobbies over the years, but in 1990 began playing golf and in it he found his passion.  When he retired, he spent a lot of time playing, but he also enjoyed practicing.  He was a true “range rat”.  He visited the PGA Superstore so often that I once suggested he get a job there. He loved watching hockey, particularly the Montreal Canadiens and the Washington Capitals.  But mostly he was a rabid USC football fan.  And I mean a fan.  Every fall he asked me to mark the SC games on the calendar and woe be to me if I scheduled any social engagements that conflicted.  Our friends would gently suggest that there was such a thing as a DVR, but Alan insisted (and I kind of agreed) that nothing beats watching sports live.

He was a loving, devoted dog dad to Dash the Wonder Dog.  In fact, I coined the “wonder dog” name because for 20 years Alan did not want a dog.  When he finally relented and we got Dash, Alan became putty in his paws.  In almost every photo I have of him he is holding Dash.  They created a special bond and Dash turned an indifferent pet owner into a complete sap.  Dash truly did wonders for him, especially during his trials this past year.

This is a very sad time for our family.  Dash is confused and keeps looking for him, which breaks my heart.  I know our lives will never be the same.  But I have tried to look for bright spots along the way these past few days.  First, and most importantly, the whole family was able to fly here the weekend following his diagnosis to spend time with him.  They were able to tell him how much they loved him, and he could do the same in return.  He told Matt and Jake how proud he was of the young men they have become, and that is a gift they can treasure for the rest of their lives.  He and I were able to spend time saying all the things we wanted to say to one another.  He knew how much I loved him, and I know his wishes for me as I go forward.

The second gift was the friends who gave me support and comfort this past week. My friend Debbie brought me support in innumerable ways, not the least of which was being here when the hospice transport came, and Alan left the house for the last time.  My friend Marge drove down from Idaho in hopes of saying goodbye to Alan.  After a two-day drive she arrived at our house at the exact moment they were transporting Alan to hospice.  She went with me to hospice each day and to the mortuary to make final arrangements.  My niece Shelley came up from Tucson for a day to spend time with me and give me a much-needed hug.  I am so blessed to have such a loving family and friends, all of whom have offered support and love, both in person and from afar.

I know I have a difficult road ahead of me, but I am trying to be grateful for the time we had together.  Next month we would have celebrated 36 years of marriage.  Many years ago, someone asked me why I thought Alan and I were so happily married, and I told her that he made me laugh every day.  I think that was our “secret sauce”, as no matter how irritated we might get over something, we always ended up making each other smile.

I am also grateful for the way in which he passed.  It was not sudden, nor was it drawn out.  He had the opportunity to tell all of us how much we meant to him, and he heard how much we all loved him.  Not everyone gets that experience at the end of their life.

I stumbled on this phrase from Ram Dass a few months ago that struck a chord then and has resonated a lot this week:

Sharing our love and our gifts
With any who join us on our roam,
Enlightenment comes to let us know
We Are Just Walking Each Other Home.

Rest in Peace, my sweet angel Alan.  It has been my privilege to walk you home.

Posted in Historical

All the News That’s Unfit to Rhyme

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by Bob Sparrow

Red Posey?

I haven’t traveled in several weeks, and there is not much of interest going on in my life currently, so my options for writing this week’s blog are significantly limited.  But you belong to a loyal following, who have come to expect something interesting, entertaining or thought-provoking each week.  That’s what you paid for when you signed up for our blog . . . oh, wait a minute, the blog is free!  But you understandably still have some expectations.

Those of you who have been with us from the beginning (that’s the summer of 2011) know that we started out, not with a blog, but writing ‘tribute poems’ for people who would request something for a birthday, anniversary, or other special occasions.  That was called ‘Red Posey’ – I forget why.  It was fairly short-lived.  We then started a blog, something that, prior to saying “Let’s write a blog”. we’d never heard the term, but plunged in, writing a four-stanza poem, twice a week, following the format of the popular national newspaper of the day, USA Today, which had four sections, world news, business, sports, and entertainment.  This iteration of the blog was called, Morning News in Verse, with a by-line that read, All the News that Fit to Rhyme.  If we were still doing that today, it would look something like this:

 

We read of the soldier who escaped to Korea

And all of this year’s political diarrhea

Of flooding and fires and all that looks grim

Of airlines that cancel their flights on a whim

 

We hope that our stocks continues to rise

And that interest rates stop reaching those highs

We see that AI is improving with haste

As we’re praying to Google that we won’t be replaced

 

The Open was won by B. Harman with ease

Bringing the rest of the field to their knees

Sooner, no, probably later, baseball will end

Which means college football season begins!!!

 

The writers are striking the actors are too

With no movies or TV, just what will we do?

You could stop browsing your phone to find a new friend

Try face-to-face meetings and re-start an old trend

 

After reading that, it becomes fairly obvious why that format only lasted about six months and why we were ready to move on from poetry to prose – my Iambic has clearly left my pentameter!.  We moved on to the current format in March 2012.

We’ve seriously considered taking the blog off of Facebook, as we don’t agree with some of the information gathering algorithm they use (If you don’t see our blog next week on Facebook, you’ll know that they took us down after reading this!).  So, even though we’re not big fans of Facebook, it is popular with our peers (the ‘older’ age groups), and thus it is where most of our readers read our blog, so big tech wins again.

If you too are not that happy with Facebook, you can ‘subscribe’ to this blog by pressing the ‘Subscribe’ button in the right-hand column of this blog and have it go directly to your ‘Spam’ folder in your email.

Posted in opinion

WHINE COUNTRY

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By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

While my brother’s post last week was about his adorable grandchildren (and, yes, they are that cute and talented!), I was drawn back three generations to do more research on our great-grandfather, John Hoever (pronounced “Hoover”).  My interest in him was renewed last week when I read an article originally published in the Napa Valley Marketplace magazine about the history of the Napa State Hospital.  In 1900 John Hoever died there for reasons yet to be discovered.  Napa was no ordinary hospital; it was more commonly known as the Napa State Asylum for the Insane.  Well…that goes a long way in explaining our family peculiarities. Like many of you, I have passed by the hospital on my way through wine country, but never knew its history…or how dangerous it is today.

Napa Hospital at the time of John’s residency

The hospital was opened on November 15, 1875.  The original main building known as “the Castle” was an ornate and imposing brick building. By the early 1890s, the facility had over 1,300 patients which was more than double the original capacity it was designed to house.  A majority of the patients were foreign born, like my grandfather.  He left Germany in 1875 and immigrated to San Francisco.

The Napa Asylum treated patients for a variety of ailments; many of the early residents were admitted due to alcoholism or homelessness. This was a time in Europe known as “The Long Depression” when many people immigrated to the United States in search of a better life.  But the U.S. was also in an economic downturn, so one can speculate that some of the immigrants ended up without work and homeless.  Women admitted at the end of the 19th century were often diagnosed with acute mania, melancholia, or paranoia. The hospital treated everything from epilepsy, paralysis, and syphilis, to jealousy, masturbation, and even disappointment in love.  Pretty much covered the gamut of social ills of the time.  

In the early years of the hospital, work therapy was used as a common treatment for patients. The routine and predictability of asylum life were thought to aid patients. The grounds contained a large farm that included dairy and poultry ranches, vegetable garden, and fruit orchards that provided a large part of the food supply consumed by the residents.  Growing their own food and using patients for labor also kept the costs down – and the profits up – for the directors of the hospital.

         Napa Hosptial today

Over the years this bucolic site changed, as did the residents.  Up until the 1920’s, patients were either self-admitted or sent there by their families.  Slowly, as psychiatric care became more sophisticated, many of the ailments that confined people to the hospital were able to be treated on an outpatient basis.  The facility was re-named, Napa State Hospital, and served as a traditional psychiatric hospital until the 1990s when it started taking court referrals. Despite being filled with perpetrators of violent, often heinous crimes, it was still considered to be a hospital, not a prison.  The patients were committed, but not locked up. Police officers were posted at hospital entrances, but uniformed guards did not patrol the halls of even the highest-risk units. So, over time the most violent patients were left to terrorize the others freely, with only doctors and nurses to stop them.  In 2010, a nurse was murdered by an inmate, which prompted the hospital to hire more police officers and the staff were outfitted with personal alarms so they could call for help if they felt threatened. So, today it is safer, but about 90 percent of the patient population is funneled into the hospital through the criminal justice system. I don’t think Napa State Hospital is going to make anybody’s “Top Ten Places to Work” list, no matter how many improvements they make.

Annie, with her three children. Our grandmother is on the right.

As for our great-grandfather, I still have no idea why he was committed to Napa.  Perhaps my great-grandmother, Annie, kept the reasons to herself, as neither my grandmother or father ever indicated they knew anything about his time there or manner of death.  In the July 1900 census, he was listed as having been in Napa Hospital for 12 months.  Annie gave birth to a daughter in February 1900, so he must have gone in shortly after she found herself pregnant.  He died in September of that year and his obituary said that “his funeral had the largest crowd ever seen in town, which bore testimony to the esteem with which this good man was held.”  So, I don’t think he had been the town drunk.

As for Annie, she was a remarkable woman for her age and time.  After John’s death she took over managing the jewelry store they owned and was described in “The History of Colusa and Glenn Counties” as someone who had “demonstrated her ability as a businesswoman and won great success through her own efforts”.  That was quite a compliment to be given a woman in business in 1918! I have inherited the diamond from her engagement ring and whenever I think I’m having a hard time I look at it and know that I have it easy compared to her.

I’m not sure I’ll ever find out why John was committed to Napa.  Several years ago I wrote the hospital asking if they had any records of him, but I never heard back.  Now that I know more about the current situation, I think the staff has enough on their hands just to stay alive without having to answer emails about someone who died in 1900.  All I know is I will never pass that hospital again without thinking about him and vowing that if I’m ever up on a violent crime charge, I’ll plead guilty rather than risk going to Napa!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Family

It’s Grand to Be Grand

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by Bob Sparrow

Dylan, Emma, Addison and Mac

When Linda and I first got married, back when the earth was still cooling, she said she couldn’t wait to be a grandmother.  I can’t remember my stance on grandparenthood at the time, I was probably ambivalent, but I did mention to Linda that there was a step between where we were then and her being a grandmother – so, enter Dana and Jeff.  Her passion for being a grandmother came from a great relationship she had with her maternal grandmother, Petra, while growing up in Minnesota.  Linda actually wanted to name Dana, Petra, for which Dana still thanks me.  I, on the other hand, liked my grandparents, but I didn’t spend that much time with them and the time I did spend, I just felt it was time spent with some familiar ‘old people’.

Fast forward to today and I now think I invented grandparenthood!  We are fortunate enough to have four amazing grandchildren.  I’m going to go on a bit about them; perhaps I’m a bit biased, but I hope any of you grandparents out there would feel the same way about yours.

Emma

The first grandchild came from my daughter, Stephanie and husband, Jason, a boy named Dylan.  Now, at 12 years old, he has become quite an accomplished piano player and has been in several bands as a keyboard player.

Dylan

Not only does he play the piano, but he composes his own songs, seemingly with very little effort – and they are quite good.  One day when he was at our house playing an original piece, I told him that he should hook up with someone who writes poetry and they could write some popular songs together.  He said that his school had a poetry writing contest and . . . he won!  So, don’t be surprised if he becomes a famous song writer!  He will be entering junior high this fall and is hopeful of getting into a performing arts high school in a couple of years.  His sister, Emma, who is 10, is a very accomplish dancer and has been for a number of years.  She is also blessed with a big personality and a beautiful smile.  Both Dylan and Emma attend an immersive Italian language school and are both fluent in the language.  This summer, when the family visited Italy, we saw several videos of Emma ordering various dishes and conversing with the servers in Italian.  She really seemed to enjoy it and the Italians said that she had a great accent.  She is a smart, adorable, talented young lady.

Addison

‘Turbo’

Our third and forth grandchildren, Addison and Maclin, came from our daughter, Dana and husband, Joe.  Addison is six going on 15!  She is very mature, has a very out-going personality, is very smart and has a great sense of humor.  She plays soccer and softball, and is currently taking golf and piano lessons.  She’s also has written and sings a couple original songs.  A year ago, the ‘girls’ went on a wine tasting weekend in Temecula and I got to babysit Addison – so the two of us went to the San Diego  Zoo, Safari Park in Escondido – it was one of the best 24 hours I’ve ever spent.   Mac’s nickname is ‘Turbo’, because he is always on the move and attacks things with reckless abandon.  At three, he loves sports, particularly hockey.  He is currently practicing hockey at the same rink father, Joe did when he was a kid.  One has to be at least five years old to play on a team, but one of the coaches saw Mac skate and said he wanted this three-year-old on his team now!!  It will be fun to see what he does with hockey.  He is also obsessed with two movies, for obvious reasons , The Might Ducks, a great story about a youth hockey team, and Top Gun – Maverick . he recites many of the lines from the movie and has a ‘Bomber Jacket’ that he sometimes sleeps in.  He seems to like nice clothes, as when he was asked when he wanted for his third birthday, the said, “a three-piece suit”.  Yes, a three-piece suit!!!  Because the family owns two restaurants and Joe is a certified Cordon Bleu chef, they both love to help Joe & Dana in the kitchen.

Fortunately, all four live within an hour, so we get to watch them grow up.  Like I’ve said, I’ve alwasys wanted to be a grandpartent!!  OK, maybe that wasn’t me, but now I love it!  So, with no travel plans for the next few weeks and the backyard finished, we’re looking forward to spoiling our grandchildren as much as possible.  We truly feel blessed.  Hope those of you with grandchildren feel exactly the same way!

Posted in Holiday observations • opinion

LOYALIST OR PATRIOT?

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By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

As I have previously mentioned, probably ad nauseum, I am a committed Anglophile.  Give me a good BritBox mystery show and a cup of Earl Grey and I’m in my element.  I have often wondered what side I would have chosen in the Revolutionary War.  One can’t assume that the people who resided in “the colonies” were automatically revolutionaries, or “Patriots”, as they were known.  It is estimated that 15-20% of the British people living here remained loyal to the crown.  Thus, they were known as “Loyalists”.  Probably most notable among them, ironically, was William Franklin, the son of Founding Father, Benjamin Franklin. Many families at the time had divided loyalties, but none were as prominent – or as interesting – as the Franklins.

Flying the kite

William Franklin was born in Boston in 1730 and was Benjamin’s acknowledged illegitimate son.  He was raised by Franklin and his common-law wife, Deborah Read. Wouldn’t you have loved to be a fly on the wall when Franklin had that discussion with his wife?  In any event, Franklin saw to William’s schooling and taught him the printing trade. William helped Benjamin publish Poor Richard’s Almanac and also assisted his father with many of his scientific investigations including his famous kite and lightening experiment.  Benjamin obtained a military commission for William during the French and Indian War, and later used his influence to help William be appointed to positions such as Controller of the General Post Office and Clerk of the Pennsylvania Assembly. In other words, he was a nepo kid. When Benjamin’s government role took him to England, William accompanied him and formed many relationships with the British aristocracy.  When George III became King, William was appointed Royal Governor of New Jersey in 1862 and Benjamin could not have been prouder.  However, in the more than ten years that William served in that position his views diverged from his father’s, leading to a rift that would never quite heal.

Benjamin, sometimes referred to as a ‘reluctant revolutionary’, hoped at first that differences with the British could be resolved. When he did join the revolutionary cause, though, he was fully committed. He expected William would do likewise. In August 1775 Franklin traveled to New Jersey to convince William to join the rebellion. He told his son he would be accepted with open arms by those opposing the King and could easily win a generalship in the army forming under George Washington. But William believed America’s best chance to succeed lay in remaining with Britain. He firmly believed most Americans would not support the rebellion. He gave his famous “two roads” speech to the New Jersey legislature urging them to refuse to endorse the newly formed Continental Congress and take the road to prosperity as part of England rather than the road to civil war and anarchy. His efforts were to no avail.

A Loyalist being tarred and feathered

Ever a Loyalist, William secretly informed the British of revolutionary activities. Unfortunately for him, a packet of his letters was intercepted by the rebels who passed the information to the Continental Congress. They requested William be exiled from New Jersey. He was sent to Connecticut where he was jailed and placed in solitary confinement in a cell for prisoners about to be executed. Shocked at his harsh treatment, he wrote to Governor Trumball of Connecticut, “I suffer so much in being buried alive, having no one to speak with day or night…that I should deem it a favor to be immediately taken out and shot.”  Being shot was actually more humane than the normal punishment for Loyalists, most of whom were tarred and feathered. William’s wife became gravely ill and died while he was imprisoned. During all his travails, Benjamin exerted no effort on his behalf, leaving William to face the consequences of his decisions. In 1777, suffering from ill health, he was exchanged with another prisoner and allowed to go to New York. From there he departed for England where he would live in exile for the rest of his life.

William attempted to reconcile with Benjamin while the latter was in Paris as one of America’s peace commissioners, but Benjamin rebuffed William’s overture. The two would never mend their differences, each remaining true to his convictions.  They never saw each other again.

So, tomorrow, if you find yourself with family or friends with whom you have divergent views, don’t be the Franklins.  Find a way to compromise…or just chug another beer and agree to disagree.

 

Posted in Home

After the Storm

By Comments:14 Comments

by Bob Sparrow

Before

After

As you may recall, we left for Spain & Portugal with our backyard turned upside-down, as noted in my blog of April 10, The Storm Before the Calm (Comparison photos to follow).  It was still being finished when we returned and we have been consumed with putting the final touches (outdoor furniture, soft-scape and various tropical accoutrements) on this project that went way over budget – what a surprise!  I guess this is my way of letting you know that the extent of my travels these past two weeks has been to Home Depot, the backyard and back to Home Depot . . . OK, and back to Home Depot again!

Before

After

The hardscape has mostly remained the same, except for the disappearance of the large planter right outside the patio doors – it’s gone; it broke my heart to have to get rid of one large queen palm and two smaller pigmy palms, but I guess that’s the price of progress.  That center area is now filled with a fire feature surrounded by couches and an umbrella.  The pool has remained the same shape, but it is now surfaced with an ‘aqua white’ pebble tech finish.  The Memorial Garden or as Hawaiians would call it, Ho’omana’o Kihapai, behind the pool, still includes the moais that represent the final resting place for my friend, Don Klapperich, my brother Jack, and me.  Jack and I aren’t there yet, I don’t think, but a bullet from Don’s military, 21-gun salute lies under the far left moai.

The Wall of Masks

Ho’omana’o Kihapai,

The outdoor bar, with a new BBQ, no longer has a large mirror on the wall behind it, but rather a ‘Wall of Masks’.  These are wooden masks from places that I have visited (that have masks), such as Kathmandu, Zimbabwe, Machu Picchu and others, plus there’s room for many more masks, so I hope I can continue to visit some exotic places to fill the wall.

Before

After

So, that’s what I’ve been doing the last several weeks.  I love to travel and I love getting home, more now that the backyard is finally done.

 

 

 

Posted in opinion

WHAT’S IN A NAME?

By Comments:3 Comments

By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

For a variety of reasons, we will not be taking trips to our usual summer haunts this year.  The primary reason is that Dash the Wonder Dog cannot be at an elevation above 7,000 ft.  We love spending time in Mammoth Lakes each year, but at a whopping 8900 feet, it is out of the question.  So, I’ve been spending time looking for some alternative destinations and during my quest became fascinated with the nicknames people have given states. Each of America’s fifty states has multiple nicknames that have been adopted over the years, though the origins aren’t always clear.  As I read some of the more unique nicknames, I began to wonder how they came about and if there is any logic to them.  We humans usually get a nickname based on something about our physical being – “Stretch” for a tall person or “Lefty” for a left-handed person or a golfer who gambles.  And while it is true that many states developed nicknames based upon things that they identify with or that set them apart, some of the names are so quirky that no one can agree on how they came into being.  I’m looking at you, Indiana. What exactly is a Hoosier?

As it turns out, some of the state nicknames are just like their human counterparts, based on a physical or historical event.  For example, Maine is known as the “Pine Tree” state, while Delaware is known as the “First State”.  Many states adopted animal names that are common to the state, such as the badgers in Wisconsin or the Hawkeyes in Iowa.  California is known as the “Golden State”, not for the Warriors, but for the gold rush.  Today the slogan might be the “exodus state”, but hopefully they can turn that around.

Tennessee is known as the “Volunteer State.”  I knew the name was coined when an abundance of men volunteered to join the army, but I assumed it was during the Civil War.  Turns out it stems from the Mexican American War from 1846-1848 when the Tennessee governor asked for 2,600 volunteers and over 30,000 volunteers responded!  Today, the University of Tennessee claims “Volunteers” as its nickname but since 1956 it has used a Bluetick Coonhound dog as the official mascot.  I don’t know how they went from army volunteers to a dog, but anything with a dog is a good thing.  Maybe they wanted to compete with “Uga”, the bulldog mascot for their arch-rivals, the University of Georgia.  If the football teams stink at least they have cute dogs to watch.

Some state nicknames are a bit harder to pin down.  Florida can’t make up its mind about what it wants to be called (insert joke here).  Over the years it has been known as the “Sunshine State,” the “Peninsula State,” the “Alligator State,” the “Everglade State,” the “Flower State,” the “Gulf State,” and the “Orange State.” The official nickname for Illinois is the “Prairie State”, but the state slogan, “Land of Lincoln”, is the more popular moniker and is on their license plates.  That probably reads better than “Murder Capital of the US”.  Some names are bit more derogatory in nature.  Missouri’s nickname, the “Show-Me State”, is not official, but it’s widely used and has a unique origin story. In an 1899 speech, Congressman Willard Duncan Vandiver said: “Frothy eloquence neither convinces nor satisfies me. I am from Missouri. You have got to show me.” This became a self-deprecating shorthand for Missouri stubbornness, which can be a somewhat endearing quality – until it becomes toxic.

As for those Hoosiers, while many people think of the wonderful 1986 movie by that name, there are no definitive answers as to how the nickname originated.  Among the theories are a popular greeting to an unexpected knock on the door with “Who’s yere?” turning into Hoosier.  Another theory is that it came about from the nickname of Indiana rivermen – “Husher”. The Indiana Historical Bureau says the prevailing theory on its source is that Samuel Hoosier, a contractor, preferred to hire laborers from Indiana. So we’ll probably never know exactly what a Hoosier is.

My own state nickname is rather boring – the “Grand Canyon” state.  And while it’s beautiful, I think a more apt name might be “Hotter that Hell”, “Fry an Egg on the Sidewalk”, or “It’s Like Living in a Microwave Oven”.  I don’t think the Chamber of Commerce will be calling me anytime soon.