The young couple who live next door to us have been operating a day care center in their home since shortly after they purchased the home a few years back. They have 3 children of their own, and are very nice - though we don't come into much contact with them. I know that the husband was very helpful during a major ice storm we experienced in December of 2007, assisting us by helping cut down the remnants of two trees fallen from the weight of the ice. We've exchanged pleasantries with them on numerous occasions.
Yesterday an incredible tragedy occurred in their home. One of the children they were watching as part of their Day Care died. The child was only 4 months old. The child was dropped off at 7:30 AM by its mother. My neighbor put the child down for a nap at a little after 8. When he still hadn't awoken at 11:00, after having looked in on him an hour earlier, she saw he wasn't breathing and began administering CPR. At the same time, she called for another caregiver to call 911.
Fire, police, and paramedics arrived within minutes and rushed into the home. As they felt for the child's heartbeat and pulse, and other vital signs, it was apparent the child had already expired. As one paramedic told my neighbor, "He was cold to the touch, there was nothing we could do." My wife, who had gone next door to see if she could help as the trucks and ambulance arrived, caught my neighbor as she began to feint upon hearing this grim news.
I was standing in my front yard as the mother of the child received the news from a fireman that her baby was gone. Her wails of sorrow echoed through our neighborhood, and those of us gathered in our yard knew then that the news was bad. I simply hung my head and said a quick prayer for the mother, asking God to give her strength for whatever it was she had to face. At that point, neither I, nor the other neighbors who had come outside to see why there were firetrucks, police cars, and an ambulance gathered, knew what had happened. We only knew that those heartbreaking cries of a distraught young woman meant unspeakable sadness.
My wife eventually came outside and told me what had happened. My neighbor from across the street joined us and we spoke for a few minutes. Then my wife returned to my neighbors home. Knowing there wasn't anything I could do, I finally went back inside my own house, and my wife returned some 20 minutes later.
There isn't much one can say at a time like this. Neither of us knew either the deceased child or his mother. We know our neighbors where the tragedy took place, but not very well. Death, when it occurs close by, is sobering. This is the third death in less than 2 years involving someone in our neighborhood. The wives of two of our "Across the street" neighbors have gone to their final resting place - and now, this 4 month old child.
I suppose it just reinforces that we should never take life for granted. We should treasure every moment we have with our loved ones, and live our own life to the fullest. I was fortunate to learn that lesson almost 10 years ago, but I, too, sometimes forget. Too often some people never learn that lesson. They spend all their time acquiring things, or money, and forget about what is most important - Family and Friends. Don't forget to tell someone you love them today. And tomorrow. And the day after that. You never know when the last time you see them will be.
Old Fart Mike
Friday, July 10, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
A little about a lot
Fame, Fortune, & Spectacle. Many of us seek fame and fortune - at least during the early years of our lives. Some reach both. Some achieve one, or the other. Most don't get either. Based on the Life and Death of Michael Jackson that has consumed almost all of the world in the past two weeks, most that DO achieve fame and fortune are spared the spectacle that has transpired - and likely will continue - over the Bizarre entertainer.
The coverage of his memorial service at the Staples Center played out for over two hours and was carried on the major network channels as well as the cable news networks. Though I have never been to a memorial service for anyone famous, the ones I have been to celebrate the person's life with a bit more emphasis on his/her spiritual connection, and less on entertainment for the masses. Of course, Mr. Jackson was an entertainer - and likely wasn't too involved with a church congregation. However, though I enjoyed some of the performances, some of it was a bit over the top. Can you say Crass Commercialism when the young singer(his name escapes me) was brought out by Danny Ortega? This kid was apparently going to be on the stage with Michael and he does have the pipes to belt out a song - but come on.
I also know that the final chapter on this story hasn't been written. More will come out about his use of drugs. There will be allegations. There will be stories about who the real father of his children is. Stories will surface about further child molestation accusations. How much money he is worth will be a constant source of news. Who will ultimately end up as guardian of his 3 children will be in the headlines. It is all a spectacle. It is all sad. It is all tiresome.
PAUL MCCARTNEY COMING TO TULSA. Since we opened our arena last August, we have had several Big Name acts come to town. The best, in my opinion was Bruce Springsteen - though a case could be made for the Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, or Celine Dion, depending on the type of music you like. Now, Paul McCartney. Coming August 17th. The day before my 63rd birthday. HINT - in case anybody would like to contribute to the "Old Fart Mike Fund to see McCartney".
MY DOG IS CONSTIPATED. Geez. What do you do when your aged Golden Retriever is having trouble pooping? This has never been the case in the past. In fact, this was one of her - and her brother's (Rest his soul) special talents. This reminds me of a funny story. Basically, we had a late spring cold snap a few years back. It was freezing for 3 or 4 days in a row, so I didn't get into the backyard to scoop poop left by my dogs. My lawn guy came after a few days and brought a first time helper to mow. As I approached them with a drink, the helper said, "Can I ask you a question?" "Sure", I replied. "How big are the dinosaurs that live with you?", he asked. That is a testament to the sheer amount of poop my dogs would emit. Anywho, gotta call the vet and ask him what to do about dog constipation.
STUCK IN THE HOUSE. My street is torn up. The city began this project late last summer. It came to a screeching halt in November when a story broke about city workers taking bribes for funneling jobs to contractors for road jobs. The mayor, understandably was upset and called stoppage on ALL city road work until she could sort through it all, and get new contractors hired. So, they began anew in May. What they have found is that my street is comprised mostly of clay and that the previous asphalt was laid down right on top of said clay. As they tore it up, and big trucks moved onto the street, incredible gaping ruts developed. Yesterday it rained. This morning it rained some more. Yesterday, in anticipation of my operation Monday I went to the grocery store to stock up. I almost got stuck in the crevices that have developed on my street that are now as deep as two to three feet. This morning, one of the city workers driving in front of my house, shortly after telling my bride they were going to be bringing in rock to stabilize the street, got his pick-up stuck. It was right in front of my house.
IN MY NEXT LIFE...I want to come back as a Meteorologist. Yesterday morning, I had just gotten to the weather page in the morning newspaper when I heard the rumble of thunder. I looked again at the days forecast to make sure I had read it right. It said "0% chance of precipitation". It rained off and on until about 2:30 pm. This morning, the exact same thing occurred - except it stopped raining at about 10:00 AM. Being a weather forecaster is a job where you only have to be right about 20% of the time.
Old Fart Mike
The coverage of his memorial service at the Staples Center played out for over two hours and was carried on the major network channels as well as the cable news networks. Though I have never been to a memorial service for anyone famous, the ones I have been to celebrate the person's life with a bit more emphasis on his/her spiritual connection, and less on entertainment for the masses. Of course, Mr. Jackson was an entertainer - and likely wasn't too involved with a church congregation. However, though I enjoyed some of the performances, some of it was a bit over the top. Can you say Crass Commercialism when the young singer(his name escapes me) was brought out by Danny Ortega? This kid was apparently going to be on the stage with Michael and he does have the pipes to belt out a song - but come on.
I also know that the final chapter on this story hasn't been written. More will come out about his use of drugs. There will be allegations. There will be stories about who the real father of his children is. Stories will surface about further child molestation accusations. How much money he is worth will be a constant source of news. Who will ultimately end up as guardian of his 3 children will be in the headlines. It is all a spectacle. It is all sad. It is all tiresome.
PAUL MCCARTNEY COMING TO TULSA. Since we opened our arena last August, we have had several Big Name acts come to town. The best, in my opinion was Bruce Springsteen - though a case could be made for the Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, or Celine Dion, depending on the type of music you like. Now, Paul McCartney. Coming August 17th. The day before my 63rd birthday. HINT - in case anybody would like to contribute to the "Old Fart Mike Fund to see McCartney".
MY DOG IS CONSTIPATED. Geez. What do you do when your aged Golden Retriever is having trouble pooping? This has never been the case in the past. In fact, this was one of her - and her brother's (Rest his soul) special talents. This reminds me of a funny story. Basically, we had a late spring cold snap a few years back. It was freezing for 3 or 4 days in a row, so I didn't get into the backyard to scoop poop left by my dogs. My lawn guy came after a few days and brought a first time helper to mow. As I approached them with a drink, the helper said, "Can I ask you a question?" "Sure", I replied. "How big are the dinosaurs that live with you?", he asked. That is a testament to the sheer amount of poop my dogs would emit. Anywho, gotta call the vet and ask him what to do about dog constipation.
STUCK IN THE HOUSE. My street is torn up. The city began this project late last summer. It came to a screeching halt in November when a story broke about city workers taking bribes for funneling jobs to contractors for road jobs. The mayor, understandably was upset and called stoppage on ALL city road work until she could sort through it all, and get new contractors hired. So, they began anew in May. What they have found is that my street is comprised mostly of clay and that the previous asphalt was laid down right on top of said clay. As they tore it up, and big trucks moved onto the street, incredible gaping ruts developed. Yesterday it rained. This morning it rained some more. Yesterday, in anticipation of my operation Monday I went to the grocery store to stock up. I almost got stuck in the crevices that have developed on my street that are now as deep as two to three feet. This morning, one of the city workers driving in front of my house, shortly after telling my bride they were going to be bringing in rock to stabilize the street, got his pick-up stuck. It was right in front of my house.
IN MY NEXT LIFE...I want to come back as a Meteorologist. Yesterday morning, I had just gotten to the weather page in the morning newspaper when I heard the rumble of thunder. I looked again at the days forecast to make sure I had read it right. It said "0% chance of precipitation". It rained off and on until about 2:30 pm. This morning, the exact same thing occurred - except it stopped raining at about 10:00 AM. Being a weather forecaster is a job where you only have to be right about 20% of the time.
Old Fart Mike
Monday, July 6, 2009
Birthday Reminder
A few years back, I signed on to one of those on-line "Birthday Reminder" services. I felt it would be a good way to get dates in front of me a week or so in advance of some of my friends birthdays. I have no trouble with my close relatives, of course, it was just my friends - particularly those that lived some distance from me, and whom I might not be in touch with that often.
Until a few days ago, I enjoyed receiving these reminders. They allowed me the opportunity to remember, in some way, friends of mine on their special day. At times, I'd send them a funny card. Other times, It'd simply be one of the on-line greetings that this service provided. And, for a very few, I'd pick up the phone, and place a call.
Why I didn't enjoy receiving the last reminder is because it was for a dear friend of mine who passed away about a year and a half ago. We had known each other for some 48 years at the time of his passing, but it was only in the last 5 years of his life that we became Best Friends. We met during our freshman year in high school and, though "friendly" were not what you might call friends. As I said, that didn't really occur until he and I started working together to plan our 40th high school reunion.
Since he remained in the same state where we grew up, and I moved to the middle of the country, we were separated by miles and miles. But with the magic of the telephone and the computer, we spoke virtually daily. The bond that formed between he and I through these calls and regular visits made us as close as brothers. It wasn't just our classmates and the reunions we spoke about, it was any and every thing. We laughed, and we cried together.
His death was unexpected. I was, in fact, going to meet up with him the very next day, as we were starting the plans for our next class reunion. Obviously, it didn't happen.
The reminder I received for his birthday, which would've been on July 8th triggered again just how much I miss my friend. I sometimes can go for a couple of days without thinking of him, but never longer. I would've already sent him his birthday card. A funny one because he and I had the same sense of humor. Last year, I went ahead and sent the card I had purchased before his death to his wife. She understood. I'll call her on Wednesday just to see how she, her kids, and the grandkids he never got to meet are doing. And I hope I won't cry.
Old Fart Mike
Until a few days ago, I enjoyed receiving these reminders. They allowed me the opportunity to remember, in some way, friends of mine on their special day. At times, I'd send them a funny card. Other times, It'd simply be one of the on-line greetings that this service provided. And, for a very few, I'd pick up the phone, and place a call.
Why I didn't enjoy receiving the last reminder is because it was for a dear friend of mine who passed away about a year and a half ago. We had known each other for some 48 years at the time of his passing, but it was only in the last 5 years of his life that we became Best Friends. We met during our freshman year in high school and, though "friendly" were not what you might call friends. As I said, that didn't really occur until he and I started working together to plan our 40th high school reunion.
Since he remained in the same state where we grew up, and I moved to the middle of the country, we were separated by miles and miles. But with the magic of the telephone and the computer, we spoke virtually daily. The bond that formed between he and I through these calls and regular visits made us as close as brothers. It wasn't just our classmates and the reunions we spoke about, it was any and every thing. We laughed, and we cried together.
His death was unexpected. I was, in fact, going to meet up with him the very next day, as we were starting the plans for our next class reunion. Obviously, it didn't happen.
The reminder I received for his birthday, which would've been on July 8th triggered again just how much I miss my friend. I sometimes can go for a couple of days without thinking of him, but never longer. I would've already sent him his birthday card. A funny one because he and I had the same sense of humor. Last year, I went ahead and sent the card I had purchased before his death to his wife. She understood. I'll call her on Wednesday just to see how she, her kids, and the grandkids he never got to meet are doing. And I hope I won't cry.
Old Fart Mike
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