The World of Grandpa Don  

Sometimes it is so easy to be a crusader. We all get "warning" messages by email. Many of them are just plain rubbish and others assault our common sense. There is the one going around about licking envelopes. It starts out with the setting of someone sealing envelopes in a post office. I didn't need to go any farther than that to know that the originator needs the help for his mental condition. What post office could this be where the workers seal envelopes? In any post office that I am aware of, the envelopes arrive sealed. If any arrive unsealed they continue on to their destination that way or get torn up in the sorting and the damaged is repaired with self sticking tape ... if detected at all. The rest of the warning message continued in the same ridicules and improbable vein. Why clog up the internet with this kind of trash? It insults the intelligence of the person to whom you send it and ... what does it say about the one who forwards it? Lets try to be responsible when we use the internet. After all, aren't we otherwise very responsible people?  Of course we are. When I buy envelopes I get the self sealing kind.

Then we have the well intentioned individual who originates "Chain" prayers. Prayer is good and it has good effects. But is there a need to proclaim our prayer, bragging about it, and making promises that only God can make? And then, to ad insult to injury, is it necessary to try to shame the recipient to return the prayer and put conditions on his prayer? What about the story Jesus told of the Publican loudly proclaiming his prayer and haughtily telling how much better he is than the sinner while the sinner quietly professes his faults and his trust in God. Jesus tells us that it is the humble sinner's prayer which will be heard. Jesus tells us to go off by ourselves to a quiet place and pray to the Father. The good Sisters of St Joseph who taught me in grade school told us that "chain prayer" is superstition. Amen! They were, of course, talking about snail mail but email is the same. If you think a friend or relative needs to know, or it will comfort him to know that you are praying for him, by all means, tell him so. No strings or conditions given or expected. If you find a prayer that you want to share, one particularly well written, or touching a particular subject by all means share it. Again, no strings attached. A friend, so inclined, will pray for you as well ... because he feels the need and is sincere. I question the merit of any other kind of prayer.

Public prayer of course is a different situation and is done in church or other appropriate settings. It shows unity with the other participants and gives mutual support. We need public prayer too and that is one reason we go to church.

Alex Kapocius shared something that I would like to pass on to you as well. We invite you to put some color into your life and the presentation includes a prayer of thanks. (No strings attached) see Color  And speaking of color ... I am generally on my way to bed by 9PM these days and so I set my DVR to record National Geographic's "Human Family Tree" which was shown at 9pm on Sunday. I watched it Monday evening. They asked for volunteers from people in a very diverse section of New York City, obtained samples of their DNA and traced their origins. There were people there who's ancestors came from very diverse parts of the world, every skin color, and distinctive facial features that went with their ethnicity. Through the markers in their DNA the scientists could trace back to when and where various groups had diverged in the past and to their earliest origins. We all came from the same set of parents, They called them the Scientific Adam & Eve who lived in Africa a long time ago. I don't completely understand how this trace works but I understand it a little bit better than I did before with the help of this presentation.  I see this as a definite agreement of science and the Bible. We all have the same origins. We are all brothers, or at least cousins. Skin color, stature and facial features have been modified by climate and other factors depending on where migration has taken us as well as cultural preferences over long periods of time.  There is no "them" & "us" just "we". It all depends on which group our very early ancestors went with in their early wanderings, either by choice or accident. It was all driven by climate change, the search for food, shelter, or maybe to avoid competition for these things. But, we all had the same origins. We must look to our own egos to try to support some sort of superiority in ourselves. Sure we all look different and we speak different languages, have different customs, and different likes and dislikes. That is called diversity. Part of that diversity includes different abilities, talents and preferences, all of which contribute to life and living when we choose to share and accept them. Where have we heard; "Different gifts ... same body" the body of created humanity. Now if we could all work together for the same goals ....

This Tuesday should have been cleaning day but Irene called the night before to tell me that with Barbara gone and two ladies sick, she had a scheduling problem.  I told her just to skip this session and have someone two weeks from now. But it was garbage and recycle pick up day and so before going to bed I put out the containers. In the morning it was bright and sunny. However I needed a light jacket to be comfortable on the patio for my morning coffee and such. It was delightfully quiet. We have had one of the coolest summers in the history of recorded weather in the area and this was one of the coolest mornings. Later when I brought the empty containers back in, the garbage, in place beside the garage and the recycle bin inside, I caught site of the snow blower and realized that I had forgotten to drain the gas out for the summer. That's the best way known to gum up the fuel line so it doesn't work next winter when I will need it. I plugged it in and hit the electric start button and amazingly it sprang into life. As it ran, most of the gas was removed from the tank using the turkey baster I keep for the purpose and then I let the rest to be consumed until it stopped. Cranking it over several times with the electric started insured that all the gas was gone and I put it back in it's customary place until needed, hopefully not until Christmas. That easy little task, too long delayed, will avert a lot of trouble and expense this winter. The gas in the gas container left from last winter went into the car. New, fresh, gas will be obtained this winter. Oh yes, in the past, in my ignorance, I would tip the machine over to drain the unused gas, spilling it all over and making a mess. It is much easier using the baster and less strenuous as well. I also found that it is best to avoid, as much as possible, sucking the gas all the way into the rubber bulb. Gas and rubber do not react well and the rubber will become hard and brittle. I rinse the baster well after each (annual) use and keep it on the shelf in the garage.

In the afternoon I put on my Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes and went to nearby Colonial Chapel to pay my respects to Kathleen Lubben. She had died suddenly and was the daughter of my friends from church, Bill and Rita Lubben as well as being the sister of our deacon Bill. It is not supposed to happen this way and as Rita told me she had planned to be around to take care of her and Bill in their old age. She was their youngest child. While at the wake I met with many people from church as well as Ted and Marilyn Buchler, my daughter-in-law's parents. Ted and Bill worked together for many years and the families were good friends. We are all connected in many ways. Please say a prayer for Kathleen, that through the Grace of the Holy Spirit and the infinite love of God she may be, this day, in Paradise. Pray also for the family members still with us, that they may bear the grief of her loss. She was loved and will be missed.

Wednesday morning was a bit warmer and no jacket was needed as I sat in the warm sun on the patio, protected by my straw hat, soaking in the vitamin D. We had slept late and following my new routine, I had taken my before breakfast shot and pills, then waiting the necessary 1/2 hour before eating, absorbed the day's 3 Minute Retreat and then the rest of the email waiting on the computer for me. It was among those emails that I learned of something in the life of someone I know that prompted thoughts during my coffee time on the patio. ...

We all have abilities, things in which we are good ... better than average, at least, and sometimes award winning, things we enjoy doing. We make plans based on this talent, this joy in our life, and then something happens, it doesn't matter what, but our plans are changed as a result. It may be a delay, sometimes short, but sometimes long which prevents or postpones the pursuit of our dream, at least in the way we envisioned it. A disappointment, indeed. But it may also be an opportunity to see another aspect of the same endeavor or to be involved in something new. It may be an experience in which we learn that life isn't what we plan it to be but what happens along the way. We can, assisted by our egos, bemoan the shattering of our dreams, and become depressed and bitter. Or, we can look for new opportunities, recognizing that life and happiness depends not on what happens to us, but on how we react to it. We don't want to make changes in this way but the fact is that many of our changes in direction happen this way. Call them character builders, if you will. My Anne placed a plaque in the kitchen and it remains there for me. It reads, "Lord, help me to remember that nothing is going to happen to me today that You and I together can't handle." By all means, make plans. But live those plans a day at a time. To be concerned about a year or a lifetime can be overwhelming but with God's help, anybody can handle the problems of this day.

Another of life's lessons is demonstrated in this from Alex Kapocius: He called it "Perspective". You are invited to check it out. Moving on to the more mundane, if anything in life could be mundane, (I find it not to be that). After lunch Wednesday I had just settled in on the patio with a cup of coffee and the latest National Geographic magazine when I heard the gate being unlatched. I had called Anne Marie for a helper and Joe responded on his way to work. His job, carry my old computer, monitor and printer down to the basement. I can lift them but for me to try to carry them down the stairs would be an invitation to disaster. In my leisure time, I will expunge my old files, particularly the ones with personnel data, and many of the special applications that I use. I don't know who will end up getting the machine which is, of course, still in good working order and could be used for email, browsing the internet and normal home use as a word processor and such. Even the printer, although big and clunky is useable.

The National Geographic magazine, mentioned earlier, included an article about Somali on the Horn of Africa. The corrupt government had been overthrown. It has been replaced by anarchy. There are no government services to speak of and various cities and parts of the countryside are dominated by heavily armed "militias" each controlled by "war lords" and each extracting whatever they need or want from the people by force. The journalist and his photographer were only able to travel by first hiring a "fixer" who arranged protection for them as they moved from place to place, being handed off from one group of heavily armed escorts to another depending on who was in control in the area. They also went in the fear that their escorts could, at any time decide to take their money and hold them for ransom as happened to a young pair of free-lance journalists with no connections and little money.. We all "know" that it couldn't happen here but with assault weapons available to anyone ... ? Of course if I had an assault rifle I would only use it in self defense. But what about that other guy down the road? Can I trust him to help me or would he try to get my food or harm my family? Paranoia breeds violence if not insanity. Our government may not be perfect but I will trust them more than some guy down the road with a big gun and maybe an ego to match.

Cute, but more trouble than it was worth. I had a girlfriend like that once ... just kidding. No, I am talking about universal caller ID, the great new feature from Comcast that pops up the phone caller's ID on the TV and on the computer whenever the phone rings. Sometimes it works on the TV ... sometimes. Sometimes it works on the computer but more often than not it will disconnect from the system and I kept getting pop-ups on my computer screen, always while I am in the middle of doing something and tell me that it is "logging on" and I must acknowledge it'  It happens much too often. Yes, cute, but more trouble than it's worth. I deleted the program and even after deleting it it happened again. I had to reboot the computer to get rid of it. Persistent little bugger! I'll just have to go back to the dark ages and look at the screen on the phone that is always at my side .... grumble ... grumble!

Grumbling is not what was even considered on Thursday morning. We slept late, again. I slipped into my new morning routine interrupted with delivering Mikey to Touch of Class for his 9am appointment. I have been noticing a rather large and interesting house being constructed on a side street on the way and this morning curiosity got the best of me. On my way home, I diverted my route to take a look. It is humongous and looks more like a castle than a house. It is set on a hill overlooking a large pond, a nature preserve, across the street with a stand of trees beyond the pond. It is a combination of stone, brick and soaring windows, compete with a flying buttress. It has a tower and some of the roofs and dormers are clad in copper. Obviously, this is not a recession for everybody. Someone is building their dream. The neighborhood is a mix of homes young and old, small and large, but none near as large as this, but all on spacious, wooded lots. Only three streets, more like country roads, penetrate the area from 135th Street  and one is a dead end, The other two wind about with branches that likewise end suddenly. It rests in a triangle of land bordered by the Southwest Highway and LaGrange Road, a part of Orland Park, but isolated from the rest of the village. To the South is Palos Country Club. It gives me joy to see others prosper for it shows that it can be done. Back home I sat in the sun on the patio but soon had to move to a shady place as I contemplated life, gave my thanks for the glory of the day and reminded God, as if He needs it, to care for all my friends. My prayers to Aba are not so much a reminder to Him of our needs but a reminder to me that we depend on Him. In that way, they are humble prayers of praise.

I needed to update my medication list with all the changes from my new doctor. I had scribbled all over a copy of the old list, the one I keep with my basket of meds in the pantry and use as a checklist as I fill my weekly pill dispensers. On one side of the sheet is the list of everything that has been prescribed including the dosage, when I take it and who prescribed it along with the date it was first prescribed and the ailment it deals with.. I also include the vitamins I take. The other side of the sheet has my name, address and phone number, the names and phone numbers of my children, my doctors, their phone numbers and area of responsibility and finally a list of my major medical history. Oh yes, it also has a small photo of me. A copy of this sheet is kept in my wallet, in a folder in the visor of my car and on the refrigerator. I want any paramedic or emergency worker to know who I am, who they can call and what my medical problems are if I am not able to communicate with them no matter where I am. It is also a great help when I visit a doctor (they all want to know about you current meds) and it is especially helpful when I see a new one. The doctors and nurses love it and it is great when filling out those forms in the doctor's office. I simply say "see attached" and give them a copy. Someday, if we get things right, all that will be in a main computer system and all the doctor or paramedic will need to do is scan my bar code or chip and the information will be available to them. When I am laying there gasping for breath, the last thing I will be concerned about is my privacy. In any case, after updating the information on my computer, the necessary copies were printed  on one side, turned over and reinserted them in my new printer and printed the second side. I was amazed at how much faster the process went than using my old printer. In addition, with my old computer and printer, when something was being printed, I may as well have played a game of solitaire because the computer just bogged down to a snail's pace. Not so now. Isn't new technology great!

The first part of Anthony's Canadian adventure has been completed. He got there. We had some doubts because he was driving to Seattle with a fellow player and nobody was sure of anything. The friend had no passport and we were sure that that was going to be a problem. The friend was also terrified driving through the mountains. We weren't sure if they were to meet up with the team in Seattle or near Vancouver, but in any case, there was no team bus and they would be going across the border in their cars. Because texting charges on Anthony's cell phone were outrageous in Canada, he took my cell phone with him so he could communicate. Then Anne Marie discovered that my phone would not work in Canada. All was chaos! (or at least it appeared that way from our perspective.) Along the way, they saw some wonderful scenery as shown at the right lifted from Anthony's Facebook page. Late, very late Wednesday night, word came. This was in an email from Anne Marie: "It was after 11 when Anthony IM'd Joe!  He said everything went smoothly.  He met the players and coaches and everyone is nice and really appreciates them coming.  He will try to call today.  They play at 8 tonight (10pm) our time...so I will probably be up late tonight.  Talk to you later..Anne Marie" I am sure we will have more details later.

And later there came a few more details in the form of an Email from Anthony himself. He said: "I am safe up in Canada after a 4 day trip.   my buddy and I stopped in Murdo, SD and there was a pioneer classic car museum.   little did we know, there was much more than just cars.   take a look at the two pics  attached.   As soon as i saw this, you came to mind.  I remembered how you always used to draw that" ... Yes indeed, That was a symbol resurrected from my youth in the 40's and I used to amuse my little grandchildren by drawing it for them. I had forgotten! It looks silly but there was deep meaning there as our troops left it all over Europe and the Far East. Kilroy was us and we left our mark. see Kilroy for more. You can continue reading that page for some WW II history from the Cleveland perspective. Only one of the two photos is shown here.

Thursday afternoon found me sipping a B&B in the gazebo while reading, expanding the mind while pampering the body and spirit. It was a perfect day and all was, and still is, right with the world. It doesn't get any better than this, at least not in this world and the next is beyond imagination. My mental meanderings brought me to a decision, as Nancy Thayer, possibly a distant cousin (My grandmother - father's side - was Marcia Thayer) and a very successful author, reminds us, sometimes we must make... a decision to revise. Last weekend I was impressed when Nick shared with us the photos of his trip west that he had on his Facebook page. Curiosity got the better of me and I decided to have my own Facebook page. Signing up I dove right in and soon displayed on my "wall" was my website and more. Soon I was inviting my grandchildren and others to be my "Friend". Viewing some of the pages of others I began to wonder ... Did I belong there? and were my grandchildren my "Friends"? I began to have doubts about this being a great way to keep in touch with them as they ventured ... to  ... wherever life brought them. Friday morning as I enjoyed the morning reflections on the patio a tune popped into my consciousness. It was as vivid as if there was a group there with me singing their message to me. I realized that every generation had its place or method of  self identity. The tune I was hearing was about this place for young people in the early 1900's and it had spilled, slightly modified, into my generation in the 40's. There were no computers, email, cell phones, iPods, or such. Nobody had a car and mobility and communication was very restricted. But we had our place to be  ... just us. Let me show you what it was like ... sort of ...

This was "our place". It was for us and certainly not a place for our parents  or, heaven forbid, our grandparents. A grandfather can be friendly and loved, hopefully a person to whom we can go to for advice or comfort, but not one of the friends with whom we hang out on the corner and whistle at the girls. Good grief, what would grandma say! And so, since it is never too late to change a decision, I de-activated my Facebook account. It just isn't "my world" and I am much more comfortable here in the World of Grandpa Don. My grandkids don't need to have me lurking around in their world. I can still, mentally, whistle at the girls, but as Anne used to remind me, "I can look, but do not touch".

Meanwhile, technology marches on. A message from Comcast, my Cable / Internet / Phone service provider tells me "... And soon, you'll be able to program your DVR on Comcast.net and watch TV programming on your computer! " Maybe they will perfect the "Universal Caller ID" while they are at it and make it useful instead of an iritant.

Labor Day is late this year but it promises to be a delightful summer weekend. I hope everyone is able to celebrate and enjoy the last summer holiday with friends and family. We celebrate a break from our labor but there are too many who are without jobs these days, not by choice, as us retirees, but by force due to the downsizing or outright failure of businesses. Maybe we can take some time as we go to church this weekend to remember them and place them in God's care. We can also try to give them a little lift in whatever way we can. Things will get better. Business cycles can be as capricious as cycles in climate and in both there are those who suffer and those who prosper. It is up to the fortunate to do what they can to give assistance to the unfortunate. It is called stewardship of God's gifts. Nothing we have is ours to keep and to take with us when we are born to Eternal Life. But what we do with what we have here is a determining factor in where we live the life to come. This is a choice we must make if we are among the fortunate. It is an infanatly important choice to make since it caries over to Eternity.

Unrelated, but just as important, is the fact that often we become the victim of the choices of others. This can take many forms. Many times we do not understand their motivations and their choices hurt deeply and in some cases change our lives. I like to believe that in most cases these choices are not malicious in intent, selfish, maybe, ego driven, perhaps, based in some idea of their logic or just incomprehensible ... maybe a combination of all the above. The fact is that somebody made a decision that changes our lives. What do we do? I watched a small bee on the underside of my patio umbrella. it was there each time I ventured out there this morning. It could see the brightness of the sun in the sky above and tried to find a way up through the fabric. It was desperate and unceasing in its efforts but didn't realize that a change of direction was needed. It was, at times, so close to the edge but didn't realize that it needed to go down in order to go up.." It’s never too late – in fiction or in life – to revise " We must sometimes refrain from getting trapped trying to rationalize the motivations of others and realize that whatever the motivation, it is now beyond our control. We must revise our path and the direction we take in order to move on. As often said, "It is not so much what happens to us, but how we react to it that effects our happiness".

I find that I am very happy and content with my life. There have been disappointments. At one point the love of my life rejected me. In that case, after several years, she eventually revised and reversed her decision, for which I am eternally grateful. Is she hadn't would I have survived? I am sure I would have. Life would have been vastly different, but better or worse? That would depend on subsequent choices. But that is not relevant because what was, was and what is, is. We live with what is ... and ...

Grandpa Don Plefka

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Free JavaScripts provided by The JavaScript Source	Anne wanted everyone to be 'Nice'. This button was in one of her dresser  drawers I cleaned out in August of 2004