Tax Day! Mom was something of a pack rat – a neat one, but a pack rat nonetheless. My sister Roberta and I recently went through a box of old photos and papers and came across her 1948 Tax Return. She was a junior in high school at the time, and it turns out at a juncture in her life.
Continue reading “Mom, 1948 and Her Tax Return”
It’s April 10th and I turn 70 today. As a kid, 70 seemed older than dirt. Now? I am simply happy to be on the right side of the dirt. At 70, 80 doesn’t look so old. Seriously, it’s all about perspective, isn’t it? Balancing the good and the bad, along with the choices we have made in our lives.
Continue reading “Turning 70”
The coffee cup is old and has chips and a crack in it. It was a gift from my buddy Tim Stouffer in 1980 when he visited us in Germany, while returning from a trip to Russia. I think he bought it in a train station somewhere. Tim passed away a little over a year ago, and I’ve thought about whether I should continue using the mug, or put it on a shelf somewhere.
Continue reading “The Coffee Cup”
My sister, Roberta, created a fun family cookbook of recipes and stories a decade ago. She recently resent her “intro” to me and I love it. She talks of how our five senses link us to those wonderful memories from our past. I urge you to give this a read and I guarantee it will make you smile.
The words are strictly Roberta’s. I’m just sharing them.
Continue reading “Finding Happiness”
Last Christmas Eve, I was talking with our nephew Casey. He mentioned a visit to our home as a young boy, and then asked “Do you remember making cheese fondue at the cabin? That was so cool!” The memories of that weekend, and our ‘70s era burnt orange fondue pot came flooding back.
Continue reading “Cheese Fondue”
Last July we received one of those phone calls that shifts your world. Our niece, Bre, let us know she was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer. Thirty-eight years old, this started her on a new and unexpected journey that still continues.
Continue reading “Bre”
I still see the chunk of tractor-trailer tire flipping end-over-end in slow motion towards us. Growing bigger and bigger, it slammed into the front of our car and bounced off the hood, before disappearing in a flash. The actual elapsed time was perhaps one second from start to finish, but it was enough, and the damage was done.
Continue reading “Chunk of Tire”
Oktoberfest in München, Germany is from September 21 to October 6th this year. Thinking back, I remember our adventures there in ‘87 with our friends Tim and Bobby. Cathy injured her arm on the rollercoaster at the fest grounds and had to drink her liter mugs of bier with one arm in a sling for the rest of the day.
Our old friend Tim and his buddy Bobby visited us in the Fall of ‘87. At the time, we were stationed in Worms, Germany. Upon arrival, they spent a few days at our house*, and then boarded a train to tour parts of Germany, Austria and Northern Italy. Before they left, we agreed we’d all meet at a location in the München Bahnhof (Train Station) eight days hence and go to Oktoberfest together. This was before cellphones, or texts or email so coordination was a bit trickier. Plus, phone calls in Europe, especially country-to-country were expensive and we avoided them unless necessary.
Cathy and I had, of course, visited many bier and wein festivals in Germany over the years. We usually enjoyed the smaller local festivals more than the big ones. To borrow a word from the Germans, the smaller fests tended to be more “Gemütlich”, a word that doesn’t really translate well to English, but roughly means a combination of fun, pleasant, comfortable, friendly and of good cheer. When Tim asked about joining them at THE Oktoberfest, we agreed to give it a go, and would meet them in München.
The München Oktoberfest is huge – part bierfest, part carnival, part party and part madhouse. Last year, visitors consumed over 6.5 million liters (a little over 1.7 million gallons) of bier at the festival. Only bier brewed at the city of Munich’s breweries is served. Anyone who has visited München knows about the Hofbrau Haus, but there are actually five other breweries in the city besides Hofbrau, including: Augustiner, Hacker-Pschorr, Löwenbräu, Paulaner and Spaten. The breweries all adhere to Germany’s beer purity law from 1516, the Reinheitsgebot, which states beer is only made from four ingredients: water, malt, hops, and yeast.
On the day before our link up, Cathy and I drove to Augsburg, Germany, about an hour outside of München. There we had reservations for a Gasthaus for the next two nights and for Tim and Bobby on the second night. We spent the night in Augsburg and the next morning, took the train to München. At the Bahnhof in München, all of us miraculously arrived at the appointed time. Then it was off to the Fest!
Paulaner was always my favorite München bier, so when we arrived at the Fest Grounds, we made a beeline to the Paulaner tent. Each of the breweries have massive tents that can hold thousands of people. People sometimes hang all day at one tent, while others move from place to place. The only problem with the second option is the tents fill up early and stay packed. Giving up your seats in one tent doesn’t guarantee seats in another.
As we were finishing our first liter at Paulaner, we were trying to decide what to do next. Someone suggested that if we were going to ride any carnival rides, we should do that now, before consuming more bier. We made the ill-fated decision to ride the rollercoaster before going to the Hacker-Pschorr tent.
At the roller coaster, Tim and I climbed in one car and Bobby and Cathy jumped in the next. I should point out Bobby was only a few inches taller than Cathy, but probably weighed 75 pounds more. You might see where this is going.
The rollercoaster took off and rapidly gained speed. At the second corner, it made a sharp left turn and Bobby slid hard into Cathy, slamming her into the right side of the rollercoaster car. When we all got off the rollercoaster a few minutes later, Cathy could not move or lift her right arm without pain. In fact, she could hardly move the arm at all. What to do!?
Well, it turned out Oktoberfest had its very own first aid station with doctors and we visited it (in 2023, over 8,000 people used the aid station during the festival). Still early in the day, there were no patients yet. Cathy got right in, while Tim, Bobby and I waited outside. Eventually she returned with her arm in a sling. They didn’t believe she broke any bones, but had severely pulled the muscles around the shoulder and strained some ligaments. They put her in a sling to immobilize her arm and gave her aspirin for the pain.
What to do now? Of course we headed to the Hacker-Pschorr tent and ordered four biers. As the biers arrived, Cath ran into a slight problem. She’s right-handed and that’s the arm she injured, so she had to drink with her left hand. It sounds simple, but liter mugs are heavy, especially when full of bier. She ended up holding the stein in her left hand and then used her right hand (in the sling) to support the mug from the bottom. It was quite the operation. ;-).
The rest of the day was a fun time, and anyone who knows Cathy, knows she’s a trooper. We made it to a couple of other tents along the way and also ate some great food. I think Cath and Bobby both had the famous roast chicken, while Tim and I ordered grilled ham hocks the size of small hams. I’ve never seen ham hocks that big before or since. They were huge, and oh-so-tasty.
Eventually it was getting late and we caught a train back to Augsburg. It was crammed with other revelers heading out of the city. There were various states of intoxication, but people were all in a good mood – a few were still singing German songs, while others tried to sleep. About an hour later we arrived in Augsburg, and finally made it to the hotel and bed.
The next morning, I woke up and felt surprisingly good. After taking a shower, I heard Cathy call out to me. She was in bed, but couldn’t turn over or get out of bed – her arm was of no use. I turned her over and other than her arm hurting like hell, she was ok. We put her arm back in the sling.
We linked up with Bobby and Tim for breakfast and then the four of us made the drive back to Worms. The next day, Cathy went to the doctor’s office. Diagnosis? Just as the doctor said at Oktoberfest, she had some pulled muscles and strained ligaments. She ended up wearing the sling for two more weeks.
We joked later that rather than riding the roller coaster early, we should have skipped it all together and stuck to the bier tents. It would have been a safer day. 😉
Addendum:
Here are some powerful words from our niece, Ann – I was in high school when Columbine occurred in 1999. I started college in 2001 and then 9/11 happened. The Virginia Tech shooting occurred in 2007. A year later, there was a shooting at my husband’s school, Northern Illinois University. He was on campus on Valentine’s Day, 2008 when a shooter walked in and killed 5 people in a lecture hall. For Sandy Hook in 2012, I was a mom and have been for every school shooting since then
Clearly I don’t know the answer on how to fix the gun problem, or the mental health problem, or the hate problem, but much of it seems to be a uniquely American problem.
Across the board our (collective American) priorities are wacked. The pressure on American families is through the roof. It’s a hustle culture with overconsumption as the fuel. There are two working parents in most homes trying to keep up with rising costs of basic living. This has been the case for me since I married in 2008. Those with any extra disposable income are outsourced to death trying to enrich their kids with activities and sports that formerly came naturally in neighborhoods and local parks.
People are living way beyond their means, building pressure inside the home. Parents are stressed, over worked, underpaid, sick and depressed. I hate to say it’s the breakdown of the American family because that is usually used as a politically charged statement, but … We have grown so much as a country and we now really do celebrate so many varieties of families. Unfortunately, there is little or no support for them.
In so many ways, American life has become a joke. American healthcare (as privileged as I am to be here) is a joke; insurance is a joke; childcare is a joke; maternity leave is a joke; FMLA is a joke; gun laws are a joke; the Department of Child and Family Services is a joke; WIC is a joke. Our public schools, our school boards and our city halls have become jokes. Many of our churches have become jokes. As we watch on the big screen, our highest government offices in our state capitols and Washington DC are also a series of jokes.
Some kids out there are fighting for their lives socially, emotionally and physically. It doesn’t seem to matter. To make it extra special, we give our kids the technology to access it all, and put it in their hands. We kiss them goodbye in the morning and expect that things will work out OK.
I hope our gun laws change in a way that will benefit our society. But I also hope our society changes fundamentally to benefit our future. If not, what do we have?
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Addendum:
In the summer of ‘87, my folks visited us in Germany. We had a grand time touring Germany, Austria, Northern Italy and Switzerland. One of the highlights was Glacier Skiing at Sölden, Austria and then afterwards, hanging at the Lodge drinking bier, while Cathy worked on her tan.
On our first tour in Germany from ‘79-83, Mom and Dad visited once for a vacation in the summer of 1982. I was a Company Commander in the 34th Signal Battalion at the time and the day we were to leave on vacation with them, the phone rang about 4AM. Cath said, “Don’t Answer it”. I said, “I have to.” She answered back, “Don’t answer it.” I answered the phone.
The call came from Battalion Headquarters and we deployed on an alert for the next three days. While I was in the field, Cath showed Mom and Dad around Southern Germany and the Black Forest. When I returned from the alert, we travelled the next ten days together. Dad understood what happened with the alert and why I had to go, but I’m not sure Mom did.
When we moved back to Germany in ‘85, we didn’t think Mom and Dad could afford another visit. Airline travel was expensive, as was the trip itself. Then, fate intervened. Dad hit 5 out of 6 numbers on a lottery ticket and won several thousand dollars. Never ones to let extra money go to waste, they scheduled a visit with us in Worms in the summer of 1987.
When they arrived, we spent the first few days near Worms and the village of Rheindurkheim, where we lived. In addition to introducing them to local friends, we spent an evening at one of our favorite Weinfests. Everyone enjoyed themselves, or at least that’s what the photos seemed to indicate.
Eventually, we left Rheindurkheim and headed South for the main part of the vacation. I’m not sure why, but Cath and I decided to take our skis along and get some Glacier skiing in, something we’d never done before. Looking back now, it seems an odd decision. Mom and Dad wouldn’t ski, but I’m sure we talked with them about it. In any case, off we went down the Autobahn with the skis strapped on the roof rack of our Saab.
After visiting good friends Jim and Res in Stuttgart for a night, we made our way to the Alps. We planned a drive through Austria, Northern Italy and Switzerland, but started with Sölden, Austria where we would ski. In the 1980s, you could still ski Sölden virtually all year long*.
Glacier skiing is a bit different from regular skiing. You have to hit the slopes early, and most people only ski in the AM. By late morning, the sun has warmed the slope and the glacier starts turning to slush. Also, as the morning wears on, the snow/ice on the glacier tends to become gravelly, not quite ice and not quite snow.
That first night at Sölden, we ate dinner in the little Gasthaus where we were staying. We discussed skiing the following morning. Cathy was thinking about skiing in her bikini and I was up for wearing a pair of shorts. Ultimately, we decided to ski in sweats and jeans. If we fell, the gravelly snow would scrape us up pretty good.
The next day, after an early breakfast of Kaffee, Brotchen, Wurst und Käse (Coffee, rolls, sausage and cheese) we made our way to the slope and were skiing by 7:30AM. We’d told Mom and Dad they could hang at the Gasthaus, but they insisted on coming with us to the ski lodge. Dad took a photo as we headed to the lift.
Cath and I spent the next three hours skiing the glacier and it was wonderful. The piste (ski trail) wasn’t crowded, the snow was in great shape and we were skiing well. Occasionally, we’d check on Mom and Dad who were drinking Kaffee on a picnic table outside the lodge. Dad snapped some pics of us skiing, but for the life of me, I can’t find them. Around 10:30 the snow started getting slushy. By 11, we were through. We started getting wet from the knees down and were tired from the morning’s activities. In the additional good news department, we hadn’t fallen all morning.
We stacked our skis in a rack, joined Mom and Dad and ordered some biers. Cathy stripped off her sweater and jeans, revealing the bikini she wore underneath. In the photo I took of Cath with Mom and Dad, I love the bored/sullen Euro look she adopted. Just another ho-hum day skiing the Alps and catching rays.
We spent one more night in Sölden, before heading for Nauders, Austria right on the Italian border. We’d previously skied a couple of winters there. After a couple of days seeing friends, we eventually crossed into Italy and then Switzerland, having an occasional roadside lunch of bread, cheese and wine. One day we forgot glasses, but that didn’t stop us. ;-).
We worked our way to Davos, where we enjoyed a multi-course 5-Star meal at a restaurant just outside of town. At our hotel that night, we saw fireworks going off in the mountains across the valley. It was the celebration of the Swiss National Day, their equivalent to our 4th of July and pretty amazing. At the time, we had no clue about the importance of Davos or the World Economic Forum. All we knew was that we ate a great meal that evening and then saw a cool light show in the Alps.
Eventually, we returned to Rheindurkheim and other adventures, before Mom and Dad flew home.
It’s funny, I remember many parts of that vacation**, but for some reason skiing the glacier at Sölden stands out. It was only a small part of the trip, but remains firmly in my mind. Maybe it was the fun of the day. Maybe it was the skiing. Maybe it was just the remembrance of my wife soaking up sunshine in a bikini at the ski lodge after a morning of good play. All our days should be so happy.
Addendum:
Live Life Exuberantly 