The Nat’s pitchers and catchers reported for spring training last week on February 12th. I’m excited, but also a bit sad. My old friend, Bill Wagner, passed away last September. He was the owner of the season ticket group I belong to and there will be a hole in my heart on Opening Day.
Continue reading “Play Ball!”
I received my Top Secret (TS), Special Compartmentalized Information (SCI) clearance in 1989. I was an Army Captain at the time. Before receiving the clearance, I did not know what work I would actually do in my new job. When I was cleared into the program, the first thing Gene, my new boss, asked was “How do you feel about Nuclear War?”
Continue reading “Nuclear War”
The line that troubled me was at the end of the quote. “These three very talented people will be my eyes and ears, and I will get done what they suggest.” It was of course Mr Trump speaking about Stallone, Voight and the racist homophobe Gibson, but it made me think to myself, “Ah yes, of course. The Watching has begun in Hollywood and will soon spread elsewhere.”
Continue reading “The Watchers”
The First Amendment says – “Congress shall make no law … abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press …” What happens when Congress doesn’t do anything to abridge the freedom of the press, but the press does it to themselves? Maybe out of fear, maybe for profit, or perhaps other reasons we aren’t aware of.
Continue reading “A Free Press”
A little over a year ago, I met Suhas Subramanyam for the first time. Last Friday evening, I attended a party for his swearing in as our Congressman in Washington DC. We are lucky to have him represent us, although it was not luck that elected him. It was hard work.
Continue reading “Suhas”
Army-Navy. Yep, it’s this week – the renewal of the rivalry that started in 1890. This year, Army is 11-1 and Navy is 8-3, but records rarely seem to matter. I know I never take the game for granted and always feel a churn in my stomach in the days and hours leading up to game time.
Continue reading “Singing Second”
R_____ looked at me and was on the verge of tears. “Oh Max, thank you so much. You are making me cry.” That wasn’t my intent. All I’d done was tell her that if she ran into problems, call me and I would help. It’s a shame what we have come to as a nation, when a person feels threatened by some of those around her.
Continue reading “R____”
A while back, a friend talked about her son, who was either prepubescent or a new teen. In the screed, she spoke about “stinky boy stuff” or something similar. It reminded me of a lecture I received from my mom upon returning home from a week at Boy Scout camp in the summer of ‘66.
I was all of 11 years old. I’d joined Boy Scout Troop 45 that spring and was going to my first ever summer camp at Camp Kishauwau. To say I was excited was a huge understatement – a week away from home, sleeping in tents, having fun with your buddies – what could possibly be better?!
Mom of course helped me pack. In addition to scout uniforms, a swimsuit, a windbreaker, jeans and shorts, she dutifully packed six pairs of underwear, six white T-shirts and six pairs of sox. Of course, also a towel, wash cloth, soap, toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, bandaids, mosquito repellent, and who knows what else.
Mom and Dad dropped me off at Kishauwau on Sunday morning and I had a great week. We went swimming everyday, took canoes out on the Vermillion River, ate great meals at the mess hall, cooked our own food a couple of times, and learned all kinds of new skills. The week passed by in a flash.
Mom and dad picked me up on Saturday and we returned home. That day or the next, mom was doing my laundry from camp and I heard my name called/yelled. I dutifully came to the washing machine.
Mom: “What is this!?” Pointing at my underwear. “What is what?” I answered. “This!” and held up my underwear. My six pairs of clean underwear. My six pairs of clean underwear I hadn’t touched or changed all week long. I proceeded to receive a lecture from mom about cleanliness, hygiene, what the hell did I think I was doing, how could I go a whole week without changing my underwear and on and on and on… I had no defense and took it as best I could. I probably looked like a young puppy just caught peeing on the floor. Finally, she wound down and let me go. – whew! –
Fast forward a year. It’s time for summer camp again and I’m looking forward to going just as much as the previous year. Mom helps pack again and in go the six pairs of underwear, the six white T-shirts and the six pairs of sox. Of course along with the packing, I also receive another lecture about health and good hygiene. “Yes mom! I get it!”
Camp was a great time once again – water sports, learning how to track animals, bonfires, learning knots and lashings, building a bridge. It was awesome.
Friday night came and I was getting my stuff ready to go back home the next day. To my horror, I came across my six pairs of underwear, again unused. OH NO! What to do?! I was sure to be in real trouble this year. I thought about it and then had an idea. I would make the underwear look dirty! I quickly threw them on the ground and then proceeded to move them around in the dirt and walk on them in my hiking boots. They looked dirty for sure and I slept peacefully that night.
The next day Mom and Dad brought me home. I went out to play and then heard my name called loudly by Mom. Uh-Oh.
Mom: “What is this!?” Pointing at my underwear. “What is what?” I answered. “This!” And proceeded to hold up my underwear. My six pairs of underwear with boot prints on them. “Ummm, my dirty underwear.” “WITH BOOTPRINTS?! WHAT IS GOING ON??”
As I looked at her, my brain feverishly worked, trying to find an answer. What could I say!? What possible excuse could I give!? I had nothing.
“Ummm, I forgot to change my underwear again and thought I could make them look dirty.”
Mom stared at me. Finally with a look only a mom could give, she said “Go to your room.”
Now I’d done it. I sat in the bedroom thinking. She was sure to tell Dad, and then what? How much trouble was I actually in? Why the heck hadn’t I remembered to change my underwear? Why hadn’t I been smarter about how to make them dirty?
Time passed. Finally, I was called to dinner. Evidently it was going to be a public execution.
Except it wasn’t. Mom didn’t say anything. Dad didn’t say anything. In my memory, I seem to remember a small smile from him, but that may just be a trick of my mind 57 years later. And that was it. I didn’t hear anything more about it. By the next year, I actually did remember to change my underwear, although probably not as often as mom would have wished.
I’ve thought about the conversation I’m guessing took place between Mom and Dad. Mom laying out the case. Dad maybe hesitating a bit – remembering his own childhood during the depression. Or maybe thinking about being in North Africa during WWII, when he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to change his clothes for several weeks. And who knows, maybe Mom never said anything to Dad – maybe she had her own chuckle over the whole thing after sending me to my room.
Addendum:
– Fun Camp Kishauwau Fact: Ryan Gosling wore a Camp Kishauwau T-Shirt in the 2007 movie, Fracture, which also starred Anthony Hopkins.
– Here are two previous blogs about my time in the Boy Scouts:
Is July 4th, our Independence Day, a holiday we all still celebrate together as Americans? Or is it now just a fairy tale with fireworks as entertainment for the young, and no longer any unifying meaning? Some days, I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
I remember the celebrations of my youth in Ottawa, Illinois. On the evening of the 4th, Mom and dad loaded my sisters and me into the car and drove us to the high school parking lot. We kids ran around looking for friends until it grew dark and we rejoined Mom and Dad for the fireworks. They would launch out over the river and put on quite a show. Ottawa, Illinois had only 18,000 people then, but the show was always first class. We’d “Oooohhh!” And “Ahhhh!” with each launch. The grand finale was always amazing, at least to us little kids.
Overseas in the Army in the ‘80s, there was usually a cookout at someone’s house. A bit of America in Germany – no fireworks, but a gathering of fellowship and celebration. We shared the common cause of defending America and that seemed enough.
In the ensuing decades, Cathy and I celebrated the 4th with cookouts, visits with friends, and the occasional firework display. It was always a good time.
Over the past decade, things have devolved.
Six years ago, in 2018 I published a blog about celebrating the 4th of July in 1976, our country’s 200th anniversary (you can find a link to the blog in the Addendum). Here’s a partial extraction from the end of the blog:
“I’ve been thinking about that evening in 1976 as our Independence Day celebration approaches this year (2018). The country went through a rough patch in the early 1970s leading up to our 200th birthday. Vietnam, anti war protests, Kent State, Nixon and Watergate, race issues, the assassination attempts on Ford, and multiple drug overdoses, to name just a few of the issues of the day. And yet, to me on that Fourth of July, it felt like we were all in one boat pulling together. We weren’t Republicans or Democrats, liberals or conservatives, young or old, black or white. We were just Americans, and it seemed our differences were set aside, at least for that night.
Which brings me back to this year’s Fourth of July. It appears we are less united now and I sometimes wonder if we can bridge our differences any more. We have a seventeen-year war, a drug crisis, race issues, and politicians, some more than others, who divide us. Hatred grows. I know we have gone through similar periods in our nation’s history, but online media accelerates and exasperates the situation. I try and think what the future might hold for this great country of ours, and the answer isn’t always clear.”
If anything, our divisions are worse now than they were only six years ago. 1976 itself seems positively quaint. We have divided into our camps with the extremists pulling us further apart. Democrats are evidently communists, while Republicans are fascists. It appears we have little or no room for compromise.
I texted back and forth with my old friends Howard and Mark about this. We are all at various places on the political spectrum and often argue/discuss politics. The conversation was wide-ranging and we talked about many things, including our imperfect union:
We came to no conclusions. Howard made the comment “I think July 4th is, on the surface, a very uncontroversial holiday, because everyone looks at it through the filter of their own politics. If you want to barbecue, it’s a great holiday. If you want to look at the deeper meaning of the day, I think we have a lot of work ahead of us.” Mark had a great suggestion – “I think we should adopt an entirely new holiday on a specific date not associated with anything, where we gather with people of opposite political persuasions to discuss potential areas of compromise and agreement.” A brilliant idea, but of course it will never happen.
At times, I do see small signs of hope. My buddy Dave has a condo just above the Iwo Jima memorial. Every year he hosts a 4th of July party. The view from his balcony is one of the very best in the entire Metro DC area to watch the fireworks. At the party are Republicans and Democrats, political true-believers and agnostics. It’s a great party and a helluva view of the fireworks. People have a good time, enjoy the food, libation and of course the fireworks. Politics aren’t discussed. The view of the fireworks over the monuments is so beautiful, it could almost convince you by itself that all is well with America.
I think both Republicans and Democrats love America, or think they do. They also often believe the other side must hate America, otherwise, why would they adopt the positions they have?
I have no answers for these questions.
I was originally going to end the blog with the following paragraph:
If we can’t figure it out, I believe we will soon see the Grand Finale of America. Like the end of our fireworks display on the 4th, there will be a brilliant final scene, followed by darkness. Only in our case, the darkness won’t lift with the coming of dawn.
But, it felt too dark to me and I sat on it for a couple of days. I also talked with other friends.
We’ve had other tumultuous times in our history – the Civil War, the depression, McCarthyism, the 60s with Vietnam and racial strife to name a few. America has always managed to make it through. There have also been great moments of unity – World War II after Pearl Harbor, landing on the moon, our 200th birthday as a country, and the immediate aftermath of the 9-11 attack are a few examples in the last 100 years.
Those of you who know me, know I’m an optimist. I tend to see the good in situations and in people. In my heart, I think that optimism is also true for my view of our country. Whether Kennedy’s “City on a Hill”*, or George Bush’s “1,000 points of light”, America has largely been a beacon of hope for the world. Even today, with all of our issues people want to come to America, the land of opportunity.
Will we get through our current struggles? I hope and pray so. Maybe my “Grand Finale” mentioned previously is just one of a multitude of paths this country could take, and a low probability one at that. Still, I think it behooves all of us to do our part to ensure a better America, now and in the future.
I hope you enjoy your hotdogs and hamburgers this year, or whatever you are having to eat. If you can, take in the fireworks. Spend a few minutes thinking of our history and how we came to where we are as a country. Maybe also spend a few minutes thinking what you could do to elevate America for all of us. As Woodie Guthrie so aptly sang, “This land was made for you and me.”
Addendum:
Two questions simultaneously occupied my brain – “Why would I possibly order a hotdog with mac n’ cheese and crab meat on it?” – and – “How could I possibly turn down a hotdog with mac n’ cheese and crab meat on it!?” I admit it – I’ve sampled some strange ‘dogs at the ballpark this year.
Until last season, a good brat stand was not far from our seats and it became my go-to place at Nat’s Park. It’s gone now, or moved somewhere else. Instead, behind our seats in section 219 is a concession stand with burgers and hotdogs. It also has a specialty hotdog called “Taste of the Majors” on the menu.
The “Taste of the Majors” hotdog changes every series, depending on who the visiting team is and where they are from. It pairs the hotdog with something that city or region is known for.
If the Cubs or White Sox are visiting, it’s easy and a straightforward Chicago dog is on the menu. With Milwaukee, it’s always a brat instead of a hotdog, maybe with grilled onions if you want. Both of those make sense. It’s when other cities visit that things can get, well, a little strange.
Earlier this season, when the Baltimore Orioles were in town, they added crab meat and mac n’ cheese. The crab meat I understood, but not sure I knew Bal’more was a mac ‘n cheese hotbed. Seeing it on the menu, I felt both appalled and intrigued. “Intrigued” won out and I ordered it.
And?
In its own weird way, it was delicious. And messy. I needed a knife and fork to finish eating it.
A few weeks later, the NY Mets were in town. The Taste of the Majors ‘dog? A hotdog with pastrami, sour kraut and mustard. Excellent. A hotdog with kraut is fairly normal, so the pastrami was just a nice add-on. As a bonus, no knife or fork were required.
A week later the Atlanta Braves were visiting. OK, this was interesting – A deep fried hotdog with pulled pork, BBQ sauce, cole slaw and a pickle. My stomach rumbled just looking at the description. My brain said no. My stomach said no. Some other part of me said “You must try this!”, so I ordered it. It was interesting, but… I wouldn’t get it a second time. I thought it might be a cousin to a chili dog and taste pretty good, but that wasn’t the case. It tasted just as strange as it first sounded. I should note did take a Pepcid before going to bed that night. Curiously, as I write this blog, I am re-tasting the Atlanta dog – a not entirely pleasant sensation.
So the early season review? The O’s ‘dog was intriguing and good; the Mets ‘dog was a perfect blend of tastes; and the Braves ‘dog was a clash of flavors that didn’t quite work together.
Each of these puppies weighed in at around 850-900 calories. Healthy is never a term used to describe a hotdog, let alone these bad boys. Cath rolls her eyes when I tell her what I had to eat at the park. Still, my macabre fascination remains. We aren’t at the All-Star break yet and there are many games and ‘dogs to go. At some point, will common sense or my taste buds prevail and I’ll heed Nancy Reagan’s advice and “Just say no!” to these mutants?
That’s a question I can’t definitively answer, but my guess is that for better or worse, I have a few more “Taste of the Majors” hotdog creations in my future.
Addendum:
⁃ Between this blog and the one I did about sausage gravy Pizza, I’m sure at least some people are asking what the hell kind of stuff is Max putting in his system. I actually do eat healthily most of the time – salads, vegetables/vegetarian, some meat, and not much dairy, potatoes or pasta. Still, I think it’s good to enjoy life and challenge the ol’ digestive track on occasion. Otherwise, what’s the point of it all?
Live Life Exuberantly 