Journal of No. 118

I recently traveled by plane for the first time in 2 years. Unfortunately the occasion was not an altogether happy one. I attended the memorial in San Jose for my uncle Don. I'm glad cousin Jim included a bit of roasting in his own touching comments about his dad, so I don't feel too mean in making my own comments.

In my childhood, 3 of the Murphy sisters all lived in Sunnyvale/San Jose, so a bunch of us cousins (their kids) saw a lot of each other. We weren't quite raised in common, but there were lots of evenings with the aunts and uncles playing euchre, while the cousins all played together at one house or another. Or trips to the local lakes for waterskiing. Birthday parties and holidays. Uncle Don was a big part of all that. Even later when my family had moved away, many summers through high school included me staying with them for a week or two. Getting into trouble with Jim and Tom, of course, but also time with Aunt Fran and Uncle Don.

It's probably not literally true, but sometimes I think that I learned thriftiness from Don. Thrift is a bit of a left-handed virtue; I may have heard it said that Don could pinch a penny until it squealed in pain. And yet.

And yet what I remember most about Don was his generosity. He was generous in spirit. Generous with a helping hand. Generous with a listening ear. Generous with a good joke. Or a bad one (more likely). Generous with hospitality (that I availed myself of many a time). Generous with family. Generous with friends and strangers alike.

He was just a great fun guy and he'll be missed. I hope he serves as inspiration to those who knew him to emulate his giving spirit. I'm sure the world would be a better place for it.






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The celebration went really well. My only regret is I didn't take more pictures, but it was great to reconnect with Jim and Tom and their families, and Aunt Fran, of course, and cousin Patty. To be amazed at how Jim's and Tom's kids have grown. And even hang out with some of Jim's and Tom's friends, some of whom I've known (a bit) since back in those high school summers.

Last weekend, I flew out to Florida for my cousin's wedding. Whirlwind tour, had a great time.

Photos from the trip.

My grandmother passed away a couple days ago, some six months or so after grandpa, her husband of 70+ years, preceded her.

She was a warm, kind person, who nevertheless got her way most of the time.

I've got a lifetime of memories, and it would take forever to go through it all. Two that stand out from when I was much younger are

#1) her teaching me the song "Billy Boy" during a road trip somewhere.
#2) me pestering her with facts about the moon (because surely everyone is as interested in astronomy as six-year-old Mike is) and her pestering me back with facts about contract bridge.

I travelled out to Florida for the ceremonies. LAX to Nashville to Orlando. I think I spent more time waiting in line for my rental car than for the flight from Nashville. The wait was exacerbated Planes, Trains, and Automobiles-style. First someone comes back to complain about the bill. One of the three clerks disappears. Another person jumps the line to say that they left their jacket in the rental. The line went from slow moving to glacial. But I persevered, and then spent another 10 minutes figuring out how to turn on the headlights. Stupid American cars.

Zipped up the Turnpike and got installed in the hotel.

Next morning, our caravan got a police escort to take us to the Florida National Cemetery. I rode along with Danny and his girlfriend, Meghan. Their car was the analogue of the little kids' table. We were all held to a rigid schedule, but everything was done smartly with military precision. Many thanks to the Marine honor guard who conducted the ceremony. I teared up a little as they folded up and presented the flag to Grandma. It was a little curious that, as others fired the salute volleys, the Marine with the flag displayed and then inserted shell casings into the flag. For some reason I wondered if they were actually spent casings or not. Flag in her lap, Grandma said her last goodbyes.



I scored a ride in the limo on the way back to where Grandma and Grandpa lived. There was a little lunch, and then the celebration of his life. Rick was the first of the family to speak, and he noted that from a document they found in the safe, Grandpa had been planning this event since 1962. He didn't want to be lying in a casket. He didn't want mourners in black. He wanted nothing more than a single spray of flowers and a photograph. And the people he loved. Last and most important, it shouldn't cost more than $250. We may have fudged that last part. But prices have changed since 1962.

Dad spoke as well. Barb didn't feel up to it. I didn't really feel up to it either, but I rose to speak. I wanted to honor Grandpa's peculiar sense of humor. He had a particular brand of grandpa humor. Deadpan, so you might not notice it. If you were lucky, he would wink to let you know he was pulling your leg. To be honest, he often would needle you with his humor. A little sarcastic, a little acerbic, a little caustic. Maybe more than a little. I had to explain to Veratrine, that he teased her not because he didn't like her, but because he did.

That was as far as I got before I got choked up. I wish I'd been able to continue to say, "After all, when I was just knee high to a grasshopper, this is the man who ordered frogs' legs and told me that he was eating Kermit. Who does that to a child? Well, Grandpa did. And I'll miss his humor, and I'll miss him."

I'm grateful to Uncle Rick, who whispered 'Good job' or something of the sort to me as I returned to my seat.

After the formal part, there was much talking and reminiscing. Here's Grandma with Paul Fate, who went to high school with Grandma and Grandpa.



Afterwards, we visited with Grandma for a while. At one point, I was bidden to examine some of Grandpa's jewelry and to take a few pieces. I found a pair of cufflinks that were just handsome. I also picked a pin commemorating Grandpa's status as a Life Member of the NRA. I may not be a huge fan of the organization as it is now, but the NRA of 2013 is different from the NRA of 19-- when Grandpa joined it. Grandpa was a coach of a high school shooting team -- back in the days when high school students could take their rifles to school with them. And finally, recognizing that I probably don't have the time left to achieve this myself, I also picked out a pin honoring Grandpa's 65 years as a Mason.

In the evening, the family went to dinner at an Italian place. Dad raised a toast to Grandpa and the family, and the meal was great. I had a very good 'goodbye' with Grandma at the end. Although I could have rushed over in the morning to see her the next day, I think that was the right way to leave things. I saw some of the other family at breakfast, and then drove back to Orlando for my, ultimately successful, ordeal to get back home.

Let's see how brief I can make this...
( not very, as it turns out )

Remember the dingus I found for mom?

Tears welled up in her eyes. Am I a bad son?

If you wanna see a bit more of the dingus, I've made public my flickr photos of the interior pages, so you can see what sort of swanky menu to serve for a president's birthday, if it should ever become your lot to host one.

Oh, and Lucy clearly liked 'em not-so-tall, dark, and handsome:

Dr. Pookie took me to the Hollywood Bowl for my birthday. It was the Brian Setzer Orchestra, backed by the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra, so it was Brian Setzer and two orchestras. It was a great show, though for the first few songs, I think there was some sort of fight going on at the sound mixing board. They finally settled on some compromise and let things rip. I'm not really a guitar guy... except for videogames... so it's funny that now videogame familiarity lets me say, "Oh yeah, he's playing a Gretsch."
I didn't like his take on Sleep Walk, which should be ultra mellow [it's a sleep walk, fer crissakes], but Setzer turned it into a fiddly-diddly fantasia that has gotten much more fiddlier and diddlier since even this. But most everything else was great. I liked the things the Bowl Orchestra did on its own... the Hawaii 5-0 theme and Soul Bossa Nova [YouTube comments are often derided, but we'll have to concur with "Quincy Jones - the only man to have ever walked this earth who can conduct an orchestra via pelvic thrusts. Period."]
The Bowl orchestra didn't add too much to the BSO, at least not audibly except a few parts where the strings sang out, but the BSO is good enough to hold its own. Other times they stripped it down to him, an upright bassist and drummer for some nice clean rockabilly. A couple fantastic bass solos. He (probably contractually) did some Stray Cats material, and I was impressed by the Stray Cat Strut, interpolating the Pink Panther theme. And it all ended off with Rock This Town with fireworks. Some of the firework effects sent cascades of sparks showering down on the inner circle boxes, and people were flapping at their hair and evacuating [possibly in more than one sense of the word]. A good day to be part of the 99%.

Saturday, we drove up to dad's new place in La Quinta in the Palm Springs area. On the way there, we stopped for lunch at Loco Burrito. It's not haute cuisine, but it well deserves the 4.5 star rating on Yelp. Once at dad's place, we got the two cent tour of the house and the two dollar tour of the area, including a wine tasting at a place near here in the 'old town' of La Quinta:



Dad fired up the grill and made us some great filets. I helped Lois a bit with some of the vegetables, and we had a great meal. In the morning, we went out for breakfast at Louise's, and then pretty soon Dr. Pookie and I were on the road back home. I may have frightened Dr. Pookie a little, but I made it back in less than 2 hours.

Almost the whole clan was around for Grandpa's 90th birthday. Cousin Danny would have been there, but got ill at the last minute. As usual, I got captivated by Spanish moss and almost took more pictures of trees than of relatives. But there's plenty of pictures in my flickr set.

We took a short outing along the Withlacoochee River, which was nice. Too cold and cloudy for the gators, but we saw some birds and scenery.

Here's a great photo collage, with pictures of Grandpa & Grandma:

Be sure to click All Sizes, so you can really appreciate him dressed as a Playboy Bunny, or his California Raisin outfit. I'm not the only one in the family who enjoys Halloween.

And here's a little video I shot of him explaining a bit of the collage. I wish I'd recorded one of his many warm thank-yous to friends and family, but this will have to do.

Congrats to cousin Jim & Holly on their baby boy, who now shares a birthday with his great-aunt, i.e. Mom.