2017 Part 6 - October

In my last post I covered the emotional events of September. October was somewhat lighter in mood, but it had its moments.

October 

The first Saturday of the month was the annual renewal of the Michigan-Michigan State football rivalry. Daughter Cathy and her husband Matt had tickets to the game, so Nancy and I had an Ian sitting gig. We saw it as an opportunity to introduce Ian to the family obsession with college football, and we made the most of it.

First we introduced him to the pre-game ritual of tailgating. Of course we had no actual tailgate, or charcoal grill, or dogs or burgers or barbecue of any kind. Nor any tubs or kegs of beer. But we made do with a little strained peas and a sippy cup of juice. I think he got the idea.

Then there was a briefing on the uneasy family doctrine of sports joint-partiality. That being that we encourage aggressive rooting for one's favorite team (State for Christine and me, the team-who-need-not-be-named-again for the rest of the clan) and discourage name-calling, taunting and unseemly gestures toward the hated respected rival. Here's a pic of Ian posing with the briefers (decked out in their official garb) immediately following the Q and A, which was surprisingly short.

By this point I'm pretty sure that Ian was sensing that this Saturday afternoon would be different from others. So I had a little private, totally impartial chat with him on how pretty grandpa's sweatshirt was.

I'm not sure what Ian did during the game, as I was a tad preoccupied with all the kicking, throwing, running, fumbling, bad-reffing and other hullabaloo taking place on TV. Understandable. But I was aware enough to witness this unfortunate post-game incident (that some busybody captured on film). Apparently an ardent but unidentified fan tried celebrating victory by sharing his hat. Sadly Gladly, Ian may have been expecting such a move and (needing to keep peace at home) did his best to thwart the caring but unthinking assailant. Smart kid.

But being mostly interested in the more important things in life, like a fresh sippy cup and a soft place to nap, Ian was easily consoled as shown in this after-glow pic. All-in-all, I think he enjoyed game day. Despite the outcome.

Fresh off our Ian sitting success, Nancy and I headed out for a couple of weeks for our traditional fall trip south to pretend it's still summer, and visit my mother in Zephyrhills. We found Mom as usual wrapped in a shawl, sitting in her rocker by the heater, watching Matlock reruns. Uh, no. That would be someone else's mother. My mother was doing this.

Yes, that's my 93 year-old mother in her backyard, whuppin' on some run-amok foliage with her weed whacker. After all, she had company coming. She was sprucing up the joint.

After chores we got her to sit down for a while, share a Corona Light, and play some Mexican Train. She still wields a mean domino.

In the middle of our Mom visit we ambled a bit farther down the state to catch up with our friends Robyn and Dave for a few days. We spent our time sitting in the sun, playing golf, eating with abandon (it's the normal nutritional diet that's abandoned), and occasionally enjoying processed grains (mostly rye).

Unfortunately, in the midst of all this merriment - the unthinkable happened. I discovered that I had left my day planner back in Zephyrhills. Yikes! How would I know what day it is or what I did last week or what I need to do this week? What would I review with my morning coffee? Where would I write down those important thoughts that always surface around the third Manhattan? Woe was me.

Ah, but then I remembered my emergency travel kit. You know, that bag with first aid supplies, extra AA batteries, flares, and one of those little steely things used to smash windows out and extricate yourself from a crushed car (yeah, I don't think so either). Well, in my emergency kit I keep blank day planner pages. You just can't be too careful.

So I located one of those blank pages and fashioned an emergency planning strategy that would help avoid panic during my painful Franklin separation. For those advanced day planner users among you, here's a copy of that planner page. It might give you hope in case you ever find yourself in a similar crisis.

Note the efficient use of space, and the personalized fitness codes and journal notes. What a life saver.

I know. My OCD is showing. But, hey. At least I'm not in denial. I think I'm somewhere between acceptance and total left-brain lock down. What's the old saying - "You can separate a boy from his planner, but if you do immediately go to threat level yellow (elevated)." Something like that.

But planneritis wasn't the only ailment that plagued the Burk family that week. Remember this shot from last March?

Yep. That's the 30' limb that fell on our family room roof just as we were trying to leave for our spring trip to Florida. Well, did you take note of that "house roof tree" entry above in my makeshift planner page? It's the seventh bullet under 10/18 notes, in the column on the right side of the page. Here's a couple of shots of what that note refers to.

One of our neighbors texted these pictures to us while we were lounging in Captiva. At first I thought it was an old text that had been in cyber limbo for months (or maybe stolen and recycled by some Russian hacker; it happens). But no. Lightning (or more appropriately tree "lightening") struck again. Another 30' limb had taken its leave from the maple tree growing out of our deck and soared ever so briefly toward Earth and on to our family room roof (a seemingly popular spot for arboreal suicides). Good grief. At least we knew who to call. The mess was handled nicely by our (now) regular tree guy before we returned to the fold. So all we have to remember the incident by are these photos. And a bill for tree cleanup that looks eerily like the one from last March.

I'm glad to say that the balance or our trip - the return to Zephyrhills, a buzz through Venice to check on a friend's condo, a stop in the mountains of Tennessee to visit more friends - all went smoothly and without incident. On the 25th we returned to home and hearth, which thanks to the magic of the Internet and local service providers looked just the way we had left it. Except for one thing. Remember these photos from a couple of posts ago?

That was when the neighbors started replacement of our old shrub with a cedar shadowbox fence. When we returned from our travels, the driveway area looked like this.

The fence was now complete including a new gate. No more hedge trimming and no more fiddling with the rusting, overstressed turnbuckle on the old gate, trying to keep it from sagging and scraping the drive. Kudos to our neighbor Martin and his handyman ways.

But there was little time to bask in the glow of our new "border wall" as that Saturday we were scheduled to host our Music Night group for our 130th collection - Science (known in our circles as "a brainer"). So after unpacking and a good night's rest, we started our party prep.

The gathering, much to my surprise, turned out to also be birthday party for the oldest among us.

I was overwhelmed by the group's thoughtfulness for the seniors in our little community. Attending this momentous occasion were the usual stalwarts and a few welcome surprises. There was my daughter Cathy and grandson Ian.

The Reinharts - Miranda, Justin, Jeff and Deandra - with Dave Dyle in the black top.

Son-in-law Matt and Linda Crandall in the foreground, with Laura Forest and Brian Bauer in the background.

Lydia Villeneuve and my daughter Christine.

Tom Yocky, in for the weekend from Chicago.

Tom's bride Kathi and Dave's bride Robyn.

Lydia's husband Joe.

And the couple that traveled the farthest, all the way from Austin, son Ted and his girl friend Summer.

Of course, can't forget my bride, hostess and chief conspirator of the event, here shown with the guest of honor and "Flat Stanley". Stanley was sort of a crasher. A paper man who came from Austin to the Pointes for a couple of weeks to visit as part of a school project of our grandson Cyrus.  I hope we got an A.

The party was grand, with lots of fine music and conversation. I received many nice "age-sensitive" congratulations and cards.

And two very special gifts. The first was a memory book with many touching photos and comments. I display it proudly in my lab, and browse through it often. Being something of a photo project buff myself, I very much appreciate the thoughtfulness and effort that goes into such an endearing creation. Many thanks to the contributors (and especially to the organizers).

The second gift was from someone missing from the party - Jim Wyatt. Unable to attend the evening due to a pressing engagement, and knowing my appreciation for verse, Jim composed a set of five sonnets describing, well....me, and his perspective on our times together. As a sonnet has 14 lines, five of them add up to - 70. Clever boy. A line for each year.

The poetry was crafted with skill and generosity. I thank you, Jimmy, for this heartfelt gift which now also resides in a special place in my lab. Below is an image of this work of art, offered here for those with excellent eyesight.

To cap off the gift, Jim presented it to me and performed a reading - by video. You gotta love a guy who plans ahead. Here are a couple of shots of this production. First the performer.

And the appreciative celebrants.

It was a grand evening, and I once again would like to thank all those who have made my 70 years one long, good time. My only wish is that we're all able to keep on keepin' on.

October for the Burks ended in its usual manner with a happy birthday celebration for Nancy. Yes, Paul McCartney was wafting in the background.

And halloween, which due to the lack of trick-or-treaters on our busy street, we traditionally spend a few blocks away at the Dyles', who live in the heart of Halloween central. There all the houses are decked out with ghouls and goblins, and there are hundreds of kids and dutiful parents cruising for candy.

In past Halloweens these get-togethers looked like this, just before heading out for a sackful of free goodies. Here are Christine in all her puppy-mask glory, Queen Cathy and Hershey bar Taryn.

In this pic we have Scott Dyle as a mime. Scary. And an unknown accomplice in the really scary mask. At first, I thought it was Cathy, but she says no. So our working theory is that it is a Dyle cousin - little Mike, son of Robyn's brother Mike. Let's go with that for now.

And a blended family shot with everyone getting into the act.

These days, things are a lot simpler. We visit the Dyles, Dave fixes the drinks, and we watch Christine staff the candy post (with assistance from Flat Stanley).

If the truth be known, in addition to drink duties Dave actually passes out most the candy as he gets the biggest kick out of the kids and the costumes. But don't tell him I told you.

To wrap up this hallowed month and All Hallows Eve, here's a glimpse into the future of two budding trick-or-treaters. Our Ian in his first Halloween costume.

And Toby Kim shown here with his mom, Taryn. Soon she may have her own little Hershey bar.

That's it for a memorable October. See you soon for the final chapter of 2017 in the Burk family.

2017 Part 5 - September

This is the fifth post in my review of 2017 family activities. In the previous post I covered the peak summer months of July and August. In September we had some interesting breaks from our usual routine of sitting by the lake watching the days get shorter including a bit of melancholy, atypical for our usually lighthearted clan. Let's get to it.

September

We began the month still at Wiser Times, relaxing with our kids and the newest member of the family. Here Ian is telling Grandma all about his day at the beach.

And here he is ready for dinner, complete with safety seat and hazmat suit. No flies on Ian.

We returned home from the cottage a few days after Labor Day, but didn't stay long as our family was invited to a wedding in Chicago the next weekend. For all of our married lives Nancy and I have regularly visited and been visited by one of Nancy's oldest friends and her hubby. That would be Kathi Simon and Tom Yocky who reside in Winnetka, just north of Chicago. During our long friendship we watched our daughters Christine and Cathy get to know and become very close to Kathi and Tom's daughters Laura and Karen. We have come to think of them as part of our extended family.

One of the highlights of our inter-family history has been a tradition known as "girls weekend". This is a few days, usually in the spring, when Nancy and Kathi get-together along with a couple of other close friends to, well...., do what ever they want to I guess (having never attended girls weekend I'm not sure what actually goes on). During our kid-rearing years Tom and I spent girls weekends looking after our respective offspring. And being resourceful individuals, we realized early on that having our brides engaged elsewhere presented a golden opportunity for us to get together ourselves to do boy things while we "watched" the girls.

So while the women were off in a fancy hotel year after year seeing the sights of Chicago or some other tempting venue, Tom and I would hole up either in Grosse Pointe or Winnetka and play music, watch movies, eat pizza and generally just hang for what we (and eventually the girls) privately referred to as "mothers free weekend". Oh, and at least once every couple of hours we would search the house to make sure the girls (the youngest of whom was pre-school age when all this merriment began) hadn't left the premises.

The system worked like a charm, except for some occasional mild but pointed criticism from our brides that we weren't always keeping our eye on the ball regarding the girls. They came to refer to our child oversight efforts as "dad-level supervision" or DLS, which I believe was intended as a denigration. But owing to fundamental differences in the sexes, Tom and I have always worn the title with pride. Fortunately, we were never dissed enough to actually be relieved of our duties. Girls weekend must have been way too much fun. Duh.

For a little context, here a few pics of the DLS club. First this one from the early days in 1991. From left to right we have Cathy, Laura, Karen and Christy posing on our deck. (Do they look neglected to you? I mean they have clothes on, and shoes - except for Christy. But that's another story.)

This second shot is from 1995 during a foray into a footlocker of very old clothes the girls called the "dress-up" box (they had one at each house). I can't tell you the hours of joy these kids derived from sorting through and parading around in collections of thrift-store grade apparel.

And for perspective, here's a shot of a DLS club reunion at our family picnic a couple years ago.  From left to right Karen, Laura, Cathy and Christine. Still buddies, and I like to think a bit more well-rounded from the independence and self-reliance learned during those liberating weekends with the dads :-)

There will be more on the history of the DLS club in future "memory lane" posts of past years, but now back to 2017. The wedding we were invited to was Laura's. It was held in a park in downtown Chicago. The setting was beautiful as was the ceremony. Here are a few shots. First Tom and Kathi, the proud parents of the bride.

Tom, walking the bride to the moment of truth.

And the happy couple Laura and Josh, in the first seconds of their journey together. Josh looks to be fine material for those inevitable DLS duties of the future.

The week following the wedding was also very special, but we have to back up a bit to tell the story. Rewind to June 23rd, the scheduled date of the 2017 edition of the Spinner Invitational (the unique golf tournament introduced in my earlier post The Spinner Invitational - the Beginning). The arrangements were made, the invitations were sent and accepted, and on the appointed date the field of 20 or so golfers headed up to Bay Valley (our traditional venue). But, on the way to the Past Champions Brunch, our opening event of the day, my cell phone rang. It was the Spinner home office. They had been notified that due to extreme weather, the Bay Valley golf course was closed. Torrential rains had flooded the course much of which was underwater. Yikes.

Not having updated our Spinner Disaster Recovery Plan for quite some time, we had to improvise. However, thanks to contemporary telephone technology we coped. The travelers, who were all in flight at the time, were individually notified of the predicament and informed that the Invitational would not happen that day. Those who were willing were encouraged to continue on to Bay Valley for a group lament over a buffet breakfast, something for which boys are well trained and thoroughly enjoy. However, in an uncharacteristically generous (and prompt) response to the crisis the Office of Spinner Protocol and Ethics issued a decision that any golfer who decided to return home rather than continue on would not be thought less of (or more importantly would not be blackballed for life - the only penalty in our book and as such the one applied to any and all infractions; yes, there is a dark inner core within that fluffy Spinner mythos).

We did have a good turnout for the lament, and it came off fine. Here's a couple shots of the attendees exchanging pleasantries and recounting past Spinner weather dilemmas like the great washout of '94. From left to right around the table is Bruce Cooke, Pat Rouan, Brian Bauer, Mike Rogala, Dave Dyle, Matt Kuhlman and Dick Madaras. That would be the back of Jim Wyatt's head in the foreground.

In this shot we have the back of Dave's head, Matt, Dick, Jim, yours truly, Brian standing, Jeff Reinhart (our defending champion) and Bruce.

For good measure, I share this shot from the '94 washout, the last time the tournament was halted by weather. Here a few survivors are having a few more beers while crowding around a shelter area far from the clubhouse. From left to right is John Sobczak, Al Morrison, yours truly, Bob Miller (the eventual winner of the weather-shortened tournament), Bill Lawler and Bill Bigby.

This photo is all the more memorable as John, Al, Bob and Bill Bigby have all passed on to that great invitational in the sky. A poignant reminder of our Spinner motto - enjoy every day.

Here's the view we had of the course that day last June, as we lamented through second and third trips to the buffet, quaffed bottomless cups of coffee and enjoyed a warm helping of Spinnerhood.

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I'm glad to report that the effort of fighting off the elements to make it to Bay Valley was well worth it for an additional reason. As this was our 30th year, the Director of Spinner Operations and all around super-techie (Jim) had toiled for many hours to craft a video tribute to our 30 years of good times, bad golf, and wonderful memories. We closed our morning with the premier screening of the video. I'll hold off on the details for a paragraph or two, but here are a couple of shots of the hard core taking in the story of the Spinners for the first time. There wasn't a dry eye in the house.

Fast forward back to September 15th, the do-over date for the tournament. We took it from the top, although we lost a few participants because of the date change. The crowd gathered for a repeat of the breakfast, complete with a replay of the video. In a future post I will chronicle the history of the Spinner, including this 30th year edition, in more detail. For now, here are the highlights of the day. First the breakfast.

Myself and others captured again by Jim's masterful video.

The video tells the Spinner story in four parts with a supporting sound track. The first part is a sequence of the traditional group photos set to the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. Part two covers action shots and all of the past tournament winners, and is set to Queen's We Are the Champions. Part three set to the Beatles' I'm a Loser immortalizes for all time those of us who have distinguished ourselves by winning the Captain D. H. Wyatt award (some of us have been distinguished more often than others). Part four of the video wraps up the story with a photo collection of Spinners at play over the years at breakfast, on the course and during the afterglow, accented by Bill Wither's Lean on Me. Jim will never know just how much each of us (we all received a copy of the video as a memento of the day) were moved by the video and his thoughtfulness in creating it. It was truly the high point of the event.

But continuing on, here's defending champion Jeff Reinhart offering a few words of wisdom for the day, a Past Champions Brunch tradition. If I remember correctly, he talked about the value of using as few strokes as possible. Helpful.

Here Jim is moderating the always popular Q and A on tournament guidelines for speeding up play, tracking special award data, and acquiring emergency medical services while out on the course. Playing in the Spinner is more cerebral than you might think.

As we moved from brunch to the course, we posed for yet another classic group photo (to someday be hung with 29 others in the oft-discussed but as yet imaginary Spinner Hall of Fame).

Then on to a little warm up (for those who believe in such things).

And finally to the first tee for shots of the groupings. First up was Josh and Pat Rouan, Jim and Jimmy Wyatt.

Next was Dave Dyle, yours truly and Smokin' Joe Villeneuve.

Followed by Bill and Nancy Boltrick, and Jeff Deneen.

And the final group of Dick Madaras, Brian Bauer and defending champ Jeff Reinhart.

Several hours (and many missing golf balls) later, the field completed play and gathered in the Bay Valley bar for closing ceremonies and some well-earned recognition. Among the special awards presented was the Brian Oatley Spinner Spirit Camel. This award symbolizes endurance (so often exhibited by its namesake), and goes to the golfer who encounters the most hazards (water, trees, sandtraps and lost balls) without suffering injury or displaying poor deportment. Yes, I won it again.

Regarding the two biggest awards, Joe Villeneuve repeated as winner of the Captain D.H. Wyatt award by carding the highest net score (yes in any other tournament that would mean last place, but in the Spinner - well, it's still last place but we celebrate it. I did say the Spinner was unique).

And the winner of the 30th Spinner Invitational with the net low score of the day was Nancy Boltrick, the second of the fairer sex to hold the honor of Spinner Champion. Here she is with last year's champ Jeff Reinhart displaying her William T. Bigby Governors Trophy and clad in the coveted Spinner-orange jump suit. Nice.

And here is a final shot from the day of the new champ with her hubby Bill, a past Spinner Champion in his own right.

Sadly, just a few weeks ago Bill lost his long battle with pancreatic cancer. I am so happy that he was there last September to see Nancy win and share in the fun. Bill was a larger than life character that brightened any room he was in. He will be missed, but not be forgotten.
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September ended on a somber note for our family, with a gathering at our cottage to remember my sister Wendy. She had passed away in July after battling cancer for over a year. She had spent time at the cottage during her last few visits to Michigan, and often said that it was her happy place. Her long standing wish was to have her ashes spread upon the waters of Lake Huron at Wiser Times. So upon her passing we transported her remains from Florida to Michigan in her beloved Toyota Tacoma, and on September 24th held a family memorial.

Wendy's five children have spread out geographically over time, going their own ways in life. We had not really seen much of them nor they of each other for several years. So the memorial offered an opportunity to bring them together and get reacquainted. And to some extent that took place. Three of Wendy's daughters attended along with four of her grandchildren, as well as our daughter Christine and my sister Cindy.

It was a beautiful day on the lake, warm with lots of sunshine, only a slight breeze and calm waters. We began with a gathering around the dining room table during which we shared our personal thoughts on Wendy's contributions to our lives. We spoke of our appreciation for her well-known independence, her resourcefulness in dealing with life's challenges, and her cheerfulness in the face of adversity. The positive attitude she exhibited during her 15-month battle with illness was a last testament to these qualities.

Following our tribute I gathered her ashes up and along with her daughter Hali (who had her own daughter Emily in her arms) waded out into Lake Huron past the second sandbar and set Wendy free. It's the same spot I often visit to laze on a floatie and contemplate the universe. Now I'll have company.

We had a nice picnic lunch after the ceremony and spent the rest of the afternoon visiting, enjoying the beach, and getting to know each other a little better. I think the daughters and their charges were happy to have had the time together and took comfort in the fact that their mother was where she wanted to be.

As part of the tribute I gave each of the girls a framed set of photos of their mother, as I'm pretty sure they didn't have much in the way of family pictures. These were the three pics in the set. The first is Wendy in her elementary school days. She was a cutie.

Here she is in a typical pose in her 20s, mugging for the camera.

This shot is from just a few years ago at our daughter Cathy's wedding. Despite having more than her share of life's troubles, I always felt she was a happy person. And I enjoyed being in her company. Another reason we got along so well is that she knew how to enjoy a Wiser's Manhattan.

We did take a family photo to take advantage of this rare gathering. From left to right seated we have Wendy's grandson Jesse, granddaughter Lauren, daughter Melanie, grandson Bradley and daughter Hali holding granddaughter Emily. Standing from the left are daughter Jennifer (mother of Jesse and Lauren), Hali's life partner Joe (father of Bradley and Emily), and our daughter Christine.

Finally, here is another favorite photo of mine. My sisters Wendy and Cindy enjoying the Wiser Times gazebo at happy hour in August of 2016. It was Wendy's last visit to the cottage and was possible thanks to a few months of improved health following her initial therapy.

I'll have more to say about Wendy during those oft-mentioned future memory lane posts (and some from distant memory lanes - my own childhood). But for now, I'll just say to Wendy "see you out past the second sandbar this summer", and close out September.

See you soon for October and beyond.