Family Meetings Part 2 - Values

Now that we've had a little fun with the lighter side of family meetings (see previous post Family Meetings), I'd like to take a brief and perhaps slightly sober look at some higher ground. I don't want to leave you with the impression that our family meetings were only about housekeeping and homework. They were really about so much more. Woven throughout our long history of family meetings has been the constant thread of family values.

For my Bride and me, there is no universal set of correct values that all families should embrace. Rather, each family (and by extension each person) has the right to choose what they hold dear and to then honor those choices in their daily lives. Of course, there are always external limitations in life. For us, those are mostly the social and legal contracts we have as citizens of our various communities (neighborhood, city, state, country - even planet). We do our best not to run afoul of those responsibilities and to respect our fellow citizens, regardless of how they might be aggravating us. But given this caveat, we look to ourselves.

The issue of family values took on added meaning for us once the kids became verbal and wanted to talk about things. Before that Nancy and I were able to discuss, agree and act on a common set of values through ongoing conversation. As we lived together, worked together, commuted together - basically did almost everything together - there was ample opportunity. But in the mid-80s we went formal in an attempt to get our story straight before the inevitable interrogation we knew we would face from our constantly maturing, curious, engaged children. That meant putting those thoughts and ideas from our personal conversation into a form that could be easily and clearly communicated.

We started with an exercise I had undertaken during my early years as a Franklin Day Planner devotee, only this time Nancy and I completed it together. We individually listed out a set of values, shared them, discussed their underlying meanings and arrived at a final list we could support as a family. We then prioritized the list (to be better prepared for potential future conflicts) and shared the finished product with the kids.

The kids may or may not remember the list as they were pretty young the last time we formally reviewed it with them. But they certainly thought about and lived the values through the years in large part due to the family meetings and resulting activities. So for posterity, here are the actual values, presented in our priority order. Those of you who have spent a measure of time with our family will hopefully see some familiar themes.

The first six values address the people in our lives and the importance of interpersonal relationships. They are:

1. Honesty - sort of a prerequisite for the others.

2. Physical health - can't really do much for others if you aren't taking care of yourself.

3. Strong, supportive marriage - the foundation of the family, and in turn family values.

4. Effective parenting - the chief responsibility of the family.

5. Support of grandparents - in appreciation for what has been given to us by previous generations. 

6. Close (extended) family and friends - one of our great joys, primed only by health and family.

The second set of six values addresses individual conduct, for parents to model and children to practice.

7. Integrity - as a prerequisite for earning respect and acquiring influence.

8. Safety - assessing and managing risk.

9. Happiness - balancing the work of life with fun and personal enjoyment (see previous post on The Art of the Dawdle).

10. High self-esteem - accepting and valuing who we are and our unique gifts.

11. Fairness - in all things, to earn the trust of others.

12. Dependability - to demonstrate your value to others and to collaborative efforts.

The final five values address the individual success of family members:

13. Financial security - earn, save and be prudent where money is concerned.

14. Intellectual growth - pay attention to and learn about the past, the present and the world around you.

15. Professional/educational success - pursue formal education and career.

16. Order - in all things, to avoid waste and misunderstanding.

17. Social responsibility - give more than you take from society, and do what you can to improve the well-being of others.    

It may seem like 17 is a lot, and it is.  But life is complex, and we felt each of these values had a role to play in our family life so we kept them all. Fortunately, the broad range of issues that made its way into our family meetings through the years provided a steady stream of opportunity to promote our values. Of course, family meetings aren't essential for having or living values. But for us, the meetings turned out to be a great tool for applying our values to everyday life. And we are so glad they happened.

As always, comments welcome.

Family Meetings

I assume that most families (if not all) have meetings of one kind or another. I also assume that most attendees at family meetings don't wish to be there. Or in plainer terms, the one person in the family who is worried about schedules, budget, shopping, homework, or a zillion other family issues has through devious means managed to get the others around the dining room table or other suitable meeting venue to work things out. An even less desirable variation on this theme is when two or more family members have differing and strong opinions about schedules, budget, shopping, homework or the zillion other things, and the meeting mushrooms from just receiving direction (from the worried party) to battles over choices.

Of course the Burk family, saddled with two adults extensively trained in the arts of group problem solving and team dynamics, were doomed from the outset. There was no way this family was going to avoid the full monte of meeting design, execution and follow-up. In the beginning, it was brutal.

When there were just two of us, you'd have thought the meetings would be short, sweet and infrequent. Uh...no. While Nancy and I have extremely similar personal values, we do hardly anything the same way. A case in point. As a revenue officer I had neatly alphabetized folders, to-do lists (yes, this was pre-Franklin), color-coded DAIPs and DIIPs (early automation over-sized tractor-feed prints of individual case listings, for those of you who have only lived in the PC era) and systematically prioritized work plans and field trips. My Bride (by her own admission) just piled all her assignments on her desk each day (and I mean piled, not stacked) or crammed them into her brief case, and worked until her desk was clear and her briefcase was empty. This variation in style has pretty much defined (one could say haunted) our family doings these 30 plus years. Oh but with excellent results, of course. So how was this possible?

Our first step in growing together as a family was an agreement to share in all things equally.  This included benefits like decisions about money, free time, use of family toys and preferences for joint activities (such as seeing an equal number of science fiction movies and chick-flicks). It also included burdens, such as marketing, food preparation, cleaning and keeping the cars running. After our first year of wedded bliss Christine came along and child care was added to the list of shared activities. However, while the agreement to share everything equally was reached with only a modicum of discomfort (mostly on my part as my preferences may have been a wee bit stronger), executing the plan was an entirely different matter.  Enter the family meetings.

For the first few years the meetings were focused on money management and task distribution. The first item was quickly resolved with an agreement to pool all financial resources for the good of the family with each of us drawing a modest allowance to cover our individual interests. It was a simple decision but one that has served us well. If anything is to be paid from "family" funds, we must agree. If a proposal of one party is rejected by the other, the party of the first part may fund the purchase or activity from his or her allowance. This policy resulted in a large portion of the early family meetings being spent on consideration and mostly rejection of schemes I had developed for procuring more and bigger electronic devices. (This personality-altering experience was actually the source of my well-known inclination not to give up on old equipment just because it may be out of fashion or three technological generations behind what all my friends get to play with. It's sort of a "one VCR on the shelf is worth two blue ray players twinkling in my eye" approach).

The task distribution part was also tricky. We started by taking turns picking the various responsibilities that go with owning a house and a couple of cars and raising children. As a result, our separate lists were of equal length. However, I quickly realized that I was over my head. Being a clever boy, I picked laundry because....the machines do all the work, right? Due to a lack of full disclosure during the negotiations, I failed to consider the sorting of colors, the need to calculate with a high level of precision appropriate amounts of various cleaning agents, folding, and finally delivering baskets of clean clothes to the proper destinations. I got hosed. My brief turn at marketing also involved setbacks. I set records in two categories - the most minutes standing in the freezer aisle looking at coupons for various size packages of frozen vegetables without actually opening a freezer door, and for the most formal complaints ever lodged against a single shopper for failing to notice (and subsequently honor) the "take a number" system at the deli counter.

As a result of these performance problems and a few others, another regular item at early family meetings was discussion followed by adverse rulings on just what tasks I was qualified for. But after a time, I settled in comfortably with those critical chores that I seem to have a knack for - kitchen cleanup (as I know the only right way to load a dishwasher), ironing my slacks, taking out the trash, and monitoring the kids' homework without driving them to tears (an especially useful application of dad-level supervision, or DLS as it's known in local circles). My Bride pretty much handled the rest with the help of our beloved housekeeper (see my previous post Elizabeth).

Despite all the fun Nancy and I had during regular discussions on household affairs, Burk family meetings hit their golden age when Christy and Cathy were old enough to participate (due to only a part-time presence in our household during these years, my son Ted was spared the vast majority of these meetings). Previously, a few day planner notes and the occasional letter from a neighbor's attorney were enough to drive the agenda. And the only written records of the meetings were private notes (often penned in red) about failures of certain family members to meet expectations. But with the arrival of the girls we saw a good opportunity to include them in appropriate family business and to teach them about meetings. We went formal with weekly agendas (to which all contributed), rotating meeting chair responsibilities, ground rules, post-meeting critiques and summary minutes (still maintained in the family archives). The girls learned fast. They especially liked the concepts of consensus, which they loved to withhold, and the meeting critique, which was always their favorite part of the meeting since under our ground rules the critique was not subject to parental retribution (talk about being hoisted on your own petard - nothing like giving the old man a 2 on a scale of 1 to 10 to get even for being assigned a new chore).

The kid family meeting years ran from late 1993 through early 2000. The agendas included every possible topic that either a precocious eight year old or a 50+ year old father with "slight" OCD could come up with. The minutes from these meetings reveal a lot about family moods and concerns over the years, and how attitudes and interests changed and grew. Humor and periodic doses of sarcasm kept everyone a little entertained and willing to stay involved. It was great fun to watch the girls evolve from unwilling victims to first learning that they could influence outcomes and then becoming increasingly skilled at doing so. Here from those years are some memorable meeting excerpts, many of which deal with recurring themes.

From February 1994 on chores: "Cathy quit the grocery inventory job. She said it was torture. Mom and Dad accepted her decision but cancelled her allowance until she can pick another chore to do her part for the family."

From March 1994 on a family rule penalizing anyone $2 for using the term "shut up". This penalty had been assessed against the girls on numerous occasions: "The girls hate this rule and feel it is unfair. We compromised by agreeing that anyone (including parents) who says 'shut up' to a family member must pay that member $1."

From October 1994 on holiday planning: "The girls are worried that there are only 81 shopping days until Christmas. We booked 11/19 as a family shopping day to start things off." I was impressed with the girls' sense of planning (although there may have been just a tad of self-interest involved).

From February 1995 on home repairs: "Dad suggested that we set aside Monday the 20th (the Martin Lutheran King holiday) as a house fix-up day. Everybody loved the idea, especially the girls who hugged and kissed Dad for thinking of it." The sarcasm was beginning to emerge.

From March 1995 on the morning routine: "The girls hate Dad's morning wake up calls, even though he is incredibly polite about it. They really hate the overhead light thing. The girls want to wake up on their own, using their alarm clocks. They don't need Dad anymore. Dad said okay, but at 7:15 if the girls aren't up - whammo!  The big lights." 

From September 1995 on bike safety: "Cathy has a poor track record of wearing her helmet when bike riding.  She said her helmet is dweeb-like (Dad bought it).  If she had a kuell helmet like Jenna (yah, right) she would wear it.  Mom said she would take Cathy to the bike shop and get her the new helmet.  If she doesn't wear it then, she'll be in trouble." It should be noted here that I have never worn a bike helmet, so I had little leverage in the argument and felt compelled to accept the negotiated solution.

From November 1996 on an alarming increase in name-calling incidents: "Everyone agreed to stop using the nicknames Comet, Crisco, Naggo and yer-stoopid-and-uggally". I leave to your powers of deduction which names were directed at which family members.

From January 1998 on the always contentious issue of allowances.  This was a rare breakdown in the usually reliable parental caucus: "Dad and the girls asked for raises in their allowances.  Bowling is killing Dad's 'budget', and the girls can't afford all the potato chips they need.  Mom, in a totally unexpected fiscal move, said she'd review the budget and let us know. Everyone else went along with the plan (since they didn't think they had a prayer in the first place. Dad immediately started looking at golf catalogs)."

From February 1998 a typical example of how the post-meeting critiques went: "This meeting received 31.5 points (out of a possible 40), down a ton from last week.  Must've been a personality thing (who was the chair, anyway?) Cathy complained that she'd been tricked on the hotel and museum issues.  Christy was quoted, 'Good minutes! But a zero on the cargo pants thing because Dad made fun of my shoes.' Mom had her usual comment, 'Too long.'  Dad said, 'People were a little crabby, and I couldn't help about the shoes.  Look at'em!'" 

Also from February 1998 on an ongoing dispute about seating preferences at the family room dining (and meeting) table: "Cathy may sit where she chooses during even-numbered months. Christy may sit where she chooses during odd-numbered months". This simple but elegant solution saved countless hours of bickering.

From August 1998 on what is still called to this day the "Friday Night Movie Club". This one is a masterful example of the intricate nature of parent-kid negotiations: "If when Dad comes home the family room is uncluttered and the girls' rooms pass neatness inspection, Dad will take the girls to Blockbuster at 8:00 where they each may rent a movie. Also, Dad will pay one-half the cost of a video game (rental) if no socks or drink boxes were found in the family room during the previous week".  The sock problem went on for years.

Toward the end of the run, a little more whimsy had crept into the meetings (and the minutes) as the girls were nearly grown and pretty much managing their affairs on their own. Here are a couple of examples.

From January 1999 minutes in verse (this was in the heyday of my lunch poetry days so I couldn't help it):

Meeting Setup

At 8:15 Christy started the meeting.

She opened up with a cordial greeting.

Review of the Minutes

We reviewed the minutes from last December.

They were approved, best we could remember.

Review of Calendar

We reviewed and scheduled all sorts of stuff.

Dad's trips, kids' activities, more than enough.

With Dad on the road, poor Mom has it rough.

1999 Family Resolutions

Dad tried to introduce some new rules.

Nobody bought it (what are we, fools?)

Instead we created the "Saturday Night Game".

The choice we each in turn get to name.

The schedule at each family meeting we'll set.

Poor Dad, no new rules are in sight just yet.

Christy Shopping

Mom will organize a little clothes shopping.

Christy's old slacks are at her knees stopping.

She needs new stuff that is way in style.

Stuff she can wear for a very long while.

Meeting Critique

Everyone gave a pretty good rating.

Even a 10 from Dad, how elating!

A total of 36 is a wonderful score.

Maybe next time we can even get more!

And from March 1999 a final example written in alliteration (the comment about the previous minutes refers to the fact that I had purposely written them with incorrect grammar and mostly misspelled words, and the Bozo reference is about Cathy moving back to a redecorated upstairs bedroom):

Meeting Setup

Cathy caringly called Christy and cronies to commence.

Review of Minutes

The mostly mangled minutes met with much mirth and merriment.

Review of Calendar

We wearily went over the week and woefully whined over work worries.

Disney Trip

Everyone energetically embraced the excellent events we 

each must eagerly execute to escape efficiently.

House Improvements

Beautification begins with the brown bathroom.  Bozo's 

bedroom'll be brought back 'bove and boldly brightened. 

And basement buried at bottom, but not banished.

Family Picnic

Presented pretty peachy party plans.  Pop, pickles, pastry, 

pleasant people and plenty of other picnic pleasures.

Watch Repair

What? Why worry? Wonderful Mom will wepair.

Critique

Quite a cranky Cathy, a 3. Cute Christy, a 10.

Couldn't calculate caring couples' contribution, 

but collectively the count was close to 31.

Ah, the good old days. Well, today things are simpler. There are periodic special meetings to cover budget issues, trip planning, tax estimates, kid visits and the like. But mostly Nancy and I just meet once a week to discuss the usual retirement issues - doctor appointments, prescriptions, which slippers to wear with which pajamas, and the big one - just what day is it anyway? And no minutes are taken. We each just make notes in our separate planning devices. That makes it easier to argue over just what was said at the last meeting.

As always, comments welcome as well as your stories about the wonderful world of family meetings.  

Until next time.

        

Road Trip - An Expected Journey

As Nancy and I just completed our first road trip as retirees, I thought I would document just what a Burk family road trip typically involves.  Of course, this latest trip occurred in the post-van/kid era, and was taken in our new Traverse instead of a van, but the essentials remained the same.  My goal is to share the key elements of life on the road with the Burks as well as tell the story of this trip.  (Look for a future post that will chronicle our family's 23-year love affair with full-size conversion vans.)

Preliminaries - First a few general observations.  To paraphrase Admiral Painter (Fred Thompson's character) in The Hunt for Red October, "The Burks don't leave their driveway without a plan, son."  This plan always consists of maps, copies of reservations (likely made nine or more months ago), frequent-traveler coupons for no-cost lodging, printed directions to the free lodgings, assorted travel guides and other books describing points of interest along the way, and a printed itinerary summarizing all of the above including distances to be covered each day, estimated times and projected costs.  (Yes, we have a GPS, but so what?)  Don't get me wrong. I like a measure of spontaneity and surprise in life, but not in the form of trying to find a suitable motel room in a snow storm or an ATM in the middle of the night.

One of the reasons we prepare so thoroughly (other than  my previously admitted OCD) is to accommodate our desire that fun begins the moment we cross the sidewalk in front of our house and pull out onto Vernier Road.  For us, the journey truly is half the fun so we do our best to create a favorable environment (see previous post on The Art of the Dawdle - road trips offer excellent dawdling opportunities, unless you're at the wheel of course). This means that in addition to the materials previously cited, the trip vehicle will usually be carrying iPods, laptops, lap desks, a bag of movies, a box of CDs, three to four audio books, assorted snacks and drinks, and upon occasion a collection of board games, all strategically placed for easy in-flight access.  In addition, as the dad I am responsible for bringing a service kit of wires, connectors, batteries, splitters, converters and backup earphones to make sure that all forms of amusement remain operational.  I'm sure you can now see why for such a long time a full-size van was our conveyance of choice.

Departure - Once the preliminaries are completed with all trip materials assembled in the family room,  we face the challenge of getting everything into the car.  As this was a Christmas road trip, all those items that wouldn't be personally delivered by Santa had to be included.  On balance, however, without kids and their traveling households (Nancy and I have entered our kid-free travel era), this was a fairly routine pack.  Here is a pre-dawn shot of the Traverse, fully loaded and ready for departure.

It should be evident from this angle that we diligently observe the first two principles of effective packing - big rocks first, and pack to the hole.  And yes, Christmas is in there, secreted somewhere between the Manhattan kit and the winter gear (we ran into a snow storm in Kentucky on a trip about 15 years ago without parkas or mukluks and vowed we would never be unprepared again). 

Here is a second shot of the load taken in a little more sunlight later on getaway day.  Note the ready availability of the blue fleece should I have to stand out in the cold and wind to pump gas, and the pillow located at the top left just behind the driver's head.  This strategic pillow placement gives me an improved chance of successfully feigning an emergency nap to avoid standing out in the cold and wind to pump gas.

Grosse Pointe to Tennessee - Here are a few typical first-day scenes from the road.  The first is why we leave early - our kind of traffic.  This stretch of highway is that tedious leg between Detroit and Toledo that we've driven so often it feels like we're still in our driveway.  The second is the first critical decision of the day - it's keep left to go to Cathy's in Hoboken or keep right for just about every other place we go.  On this day, as we're heading first to Tennessee, it was keep right for the trek through dreaded Buckeye country.

This next shot is of my Bride in cruise mode, barreling down the highway at a speed just short of lift off, and only slightly conflicted as she realizes that while she is off on another great adventure it will be 18 nights before she again sleeps in her own bed.   

And here we have our first stop of the day that will take longer than filling the tank - lunching at this Skyline Chili outlet in Covington, Kentucky.    

Much of my working life involved regular trips to Cincinnati, across the river from Covington. During that time I developed an appreciation for Cincinnati chili.  If a road trip involves a pass through the Queen City, Nancy and I usually stop at this modest emporium for some "four-way" and a coney dog and to catch up with Jim Harris, one of my oldest friends, who lives in the area.  (For those of you who have met Jim, he is doing just fine, still selling books and enjoying the fortunes of his extended family.)  

After lunch the trip resumed through Kentucky and Tennessee, ending for the day at the home of our good friends Jan and Miguel Rodriguez.  They have the unfortunate circumstance of living just about half way between our home and most other out-of-state places we like to go.  So we try to frequent this most elegant B&B as often as we can.  Here is a shot of the four of us toasting the holidays in front of their enormous Christmas tree with Miguel's fabulous homemade egg nog (real eggs, sweetened condensed milk and a generous portion of rum - now that's what I'm talkin' about).

Later during the visit we settled in for an extended session of Mexican train, an intricate domino game that is easy to learn, fun to play and almost impossible to win without a "carload" of luck.  We were introduced to the game by Jan and Miguel during our first visit to Rodriguez Manor a while back and love returning to our "train roots".  We are shown in the photo below in the daring "marriage at risk" formation (within an elbow or kick of one's spouse in retaliation for a "double-blocking" or untimely "train-down" maneuver), but by then we were well into the egg nog and had thrown caution to the wind.

Tennessee to Texas - after a day and a half of lolling in the comfortable environment provided by Jan and Miguel, we packed off on Sunday morning for our trip to Austin.  Here is a shot just before dawn of Nancy and I tiptoeing out to the car with our bags before the bill could be served.  We made a clean getaway for our 16 hour drive - the longest road day of the trip.

Once we navigated our way out of the hills of central Tennessee we made for the western border and Arkansas. Below are a few shots of the day's route.  First the crossing of the Mississippi, which appeared to be at a record low water level (later confirmed by a number of news outlets). Then a near-dusk picture of our escape into Texas.  Not much else of note to share from our trek across Bill Clinton's homeland.

We finally arrived at my son Ted and his bride Sara's lovely home in Cedar Park, a suburb of Austin, about 10:30 that night (Central time, of course) where we visited for a while and hit the hay.  The next morning we greeted our grandchildren and set out on a fun three-day visit which included a lot of play time, a visit to the Christmas light show in Austin, an evening with our good friends Sue Gallego (a childhood friend of Nancy's) and her significant other Jesse, a dance recital, and a challenging afternoon serving as caregivers while Ted and Sara enjoyed a well-earned day away from the grind.  Here are a few shots of the Texas chapter of the trip.  The first is of the Cedar Park Burks' abode, followed by Leili and Cyrus's reaction to seeing their long lost Burk grandparents.  The third is of one of the many displays in the Austin "Trail of Lights" exhibit, claimed to be a mile in length.  The kids loved it. 

One of the highlights of the trip was Leili's dance recital.  In order, here are shots of Leili and her buddies lined up waiting for their cue, Leili charming her biggest fans, and the all important post-performance fruit and juice snack (accented by a large sugar-coated Christmas cookie, of course).

On the last day of our visit we volunteered to watch the kids.  Fortunately, it was a preschool morning for both Leili and Cyrus.  So taking into account the afternoon nap/quiet-time period, we only had to sweat out about two unstructured hours.  We cleverly decided to spend these two hours in an out-of-doors adventure including some playtime at the local park (one long block away).  Here are a couple of shots of the kids taken during the journey. Cyrus is showing off his "pedal free" trike technique (pedals are apparently for wimps) while Leili is scooter-surfing what she insisted was a short-cut to the park (but was actually about four times longer).  The outing was successful as no serious injuries were sustained, only minor protestations were offered at the end of "swing time", and upon our return to the home the real parents were ready to resume their duties.

Texas to Florida - It's always tough to say goodbye to the kids, but we had an itinerary to keep.  So early on our fourth day we arose early, packed the Traverse (slightly less full with the off-load of presents for the Cedar Park crowd) and headed for Florida.  This part of the trip took us through southeastern Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama before crossing the Florida border and reentering the Eastern Time zone just short of Tallahassee. Here are a couple of typical shots from the road.  The first is one of the thousands of gas-fast food-coffee-restroom-grocery-DVD-road electronics-souvenir-auto parts emporiums that line interstates everywhere.  Our favorite is Pilot, but we would have a hard time telling one from the other without the big sign over the door.  Any road trip requires a few collective hours in such places.

And of course, a part of most stops at such places is talking to one of these metal monsters and slipping it more than a little cash.  I have found over the years that different gas pumps have their own personalities.  This one sort of screams, "Hi y'all, how you?  Welcome to citrus country! Gimme money!"

One sight always welcome on a road trip is shown below - the confirmation that progress is being made and that you're going to get a fresh set of mile-marker numbers. This is especially satisfying when you're leaving Texas eastbound on the seemingly endless I-10.  

Much of I-10 through the Gulf states is built in lowlands and nature preserves with scenery very interesting to those who have spent the bulk of their road time over the years gazing at the forests, farmlands and mountains of I-75. Here's a shot of one of my favorite stretches in Mississippi.

And a tip to those in the early part of their road trip careers. After a dozen or so hours on the road it helps to take a little in-flight snooze while actually driving, to freshen up and gear up for the happy hour which usually waits at the end of a hard day's drive.  Here's a shot of me demonstrating this technique (which I mastered by studying Clark, the father character, during several viewings of the movie Vacation).

Finally, after skirting the Gulf for several hundred miles and taking a night on the road, we arrived in Zephyrhills, Florida, at the home of Wendell and Dolores, my parents (whom I introduced in a previous post Hangin' with the Ps.)  We settled in for the holiday by joining in on the weekly bingo session down at the Tippecanoe (my parents' residential park) community hall.  Of course, I quickly glazed over in my panic to keep up with the real senior set (many who were playing 10-14 cards to my piddly five) and ended up winning nothing.  Fortunately, Nancy and Christy (who had flown in that day to meet us) did each win a bingo or two to somewhat defray the losses my parents suffered in sponsoring me.  

The balance of the visit unfolded as usual with some lunches out at favorite spots, a little shopping at outlet stores, some cribbage and Mexican train, and several cocktail hours. Then on Christmas Eve my sister Wendy and two of her kids, Tristan and Jayme, came over for the evening whereupon the gift giving began.  The festivities continued on into the night and all the next day until no presents remained and much of the holiday candy was consumed.  It was its usual grand time.  It was also the first time that our daughter Cathy was not with us for Christmas morning.  As many of you know, she is engaged to be married next November and spent this Christmas with her fiance, Matt, and his family in Owosso, Michigan, learning and joining in their holiday traditions. Here are a few shots of the Christmas Eve group.  In the first from left to right are Wendy, Nancy and Christy.

Next up, Tristan and Jayme in typical repose.

And of course, my Dad, holding forth over the proceedings as he has for so many decades.   

Florida to New Jersey - After another day of games and holiday food, Nancy and I dropped Christy off for her flight home and prepared for the next leg to New Jersey.  After breakfast the next morning we departed.  We were slowing down by this time (our 14th day on the road) and dawdled our way for a bit.  We stopped off at the Walt Disney World Market Place for lunch and little shopping, then meandered up the Florida cost to an Embassy Suites in Jacksonville that we have stayed at several times.  This particular hotel has a grand piano sitting in the central atrium that Scott and Taryn, the kids of our good friends the Dyles, used to serenade us during a joint family vacation many years ago. Truly "grand" memories.

After a couple of margaritas at the manager's happy hour, we headed out to see the movie Les Miserables.  It was excellent and offered a rendering of this old story that was slightly different from the classic play, bringing a bit more clarity to the narrative (as only the visuals of a film can) while preserving the fabulous music.  Then the next morning, after the multicourse complimentary breakfast that the Embassy Suites hotels are so well known for, we hit the road with vigor, driving several hundred miles through Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia, the District of Columbia, Maryland and Delaware (cleverly by-passing Philadelphia) to New Jersey, taking one night on the road in Laurel, Maryland.  

This might be a good time to mention another common activity of a Burk road trip - audio books.  Prior to our departure Nancy had picked up a few from the Grosse Pointe library to add to the one audio book we own but had not yet listened to.  Nancy and I tend to favor nonfiction in this particular medium with a strong emphasis on history. One of our favorites is a 30-plus hour review of all the kings and queens of England from William the Conqueror in 1066 to Elizabeth II.  Another is A Team of Rivals, Doris Kearns Goodwin's tome about the politics of Lincoln's presidency (a portion of which is the subject of Spielberg's recent movie Lincoln). This time around we were able to complete a biography of Harry Truman, a history of the White House written my Margaret Truman, and this grand story:

It's about the 1910 wild fire in Idaho and Montana that played a huge role in the survival of the National Forest Service and influenced Teddy Roosevelt's return to politics in the election of 1912.  A truly fascinating story that I had never heard before.   

We arrived in Hoboken, New Jersey, just before noon on Saturday the 29th, our 16th day on the road, for our last stop of the trip.  Here we met up with Cathy and Matt who had returned from their Christmas visit to Michigan.  We had a great couple of days walking around the streets of Hoboken, dining at local taverns, watching bowl games (especially the last minute field-goal victory of my beloved Spartans), exchanging gifts and talking about wedding plans.  On Saturday afternoon Nancy and Cathy went wedding dress shopping.  Matt and I were excused due to inappropriate biochemistry.  And on Sunday we went into New York City to see the Lion King on Broadway (this was Cathy and Matt's Christmas gift to us, and it was great). After the play we walked around mid-town, taking in 30 Rock and the famous Christmas tree.  Here are a few pics from this leg of the road and the visit.  This first one is of a toll booth, a common site on the east coast and always an irritation to mid-westerners (who think tolls are rightfully only for bridges). 

The bridge across the Delaware.

And another one of those welcomed signs that make you think you're almost there.  

Here is a shot of the happy couple-to-be on a walk along the Hoboken side of the Hudson River, and a look at the mid-town Manhattan skyline across the way.

And from our visit to New York on Sunday a shot at the theater entrance and one in front of the 30 Rock Christmas tree.

And to give a feel for Manhattan on a Sunday afternoon, a view of a mid-town intersection from the second story of the Lion King theater.  It's a happenin' place.

New Jersey to Michigan - Having finally completed all of the items on our itinerary, we arose early on the 18th day of our trip, loaded up the Traverse one last time, clicked our heels three times, and headed for home.  No matter how much fun any road trip is, we are always happy when a return to our comfortable home and our own bed is in sight. This is actually about the only time you really hear the words, "are we there yet?"  

This feeling has at times in the past inspired us to actually cover the entire distance from Florida to Michigan in one drive - from 6:00 am to roughly half past midnight on the same day (1200 miles).  This is known in family circles as "the Cathy plan", as she was the originator of the idea.  Of course, to her (and to Christy and any trip guests), 18 hours in the van meant snoozing on the back bench or in a reclining captain's chair, watching a few movies, grazing her iPod (or in earlier years her Walkman), and picking up chips and a soft drink during periodic gas stops.  No wonder she loved this plan.  For Nancy and me - the drivers - it was a little more challenging.  But we usually managed just fine.  I only remember a time or two when we pulled into a rest area in Ohio and slept an hour or so to throw off the drowse that had overcome us.  

But these days things are less intense.  We had planned our final day well and only had a 10-hour drive to make it home, most of which was through Pennsylvania and Ohio. However, we were still anxious to get there and made only the required stops along the way.  Here are a few of the highlights.  First the climb out of Hoboken.

A little of the beautiful rural Pennsylvania countryside.

By-passing a well-known spot that has been in the news a lot lately.

Passing another well known spot (about five weeks too early to go here).

And avoiding scenes like this.  In the winter, Pennsylvania highways can be exciting.

To about the half-way mark for the day.

And on to the marker we were looking for.

So at roughly 6:30 on Monday night the 31st of December, we made it home.  We had covered 4200 miles and 18 states (including Michigan) in 18 days, without incident.  We were very thankful as always for arriving safely home, for being able to see so many friends and family, and for all the fun times.  

So now you probably feel as tired as we did upon our return, due to the length of this post.  But I wanted to give you the full picture of our family's version of the great American tradition known as the road trip.  In future posts as I progress through my review of the family photo library (a little over 7000 slides and another 1000 prints) I'll cover some of the more memorable trips of the past, including the 1995 swing through the western canyon country and the 1997 trip to the northern Atlantic coast.  But this offering should give you the basics.  No surprise that for many years the license plate on the family van read "TRPSRUS", to be read either as "Trips Are Us" or "Trip-A-Saurus", which ever suits your fancy.  They're both accurate.  We plan to transfer that plate to the Traverse at our earliest opportunity.

Until next time, and happy 2013 to all.