I’ve been off the airwaves for a while, for no particular reason. But I’m back, at least for a while.

Many of you know that I’d been talking about spending three weeks or so in Northern California, searching the area to see if Jean and I would be interested in spending a month or so spring and/or fall. My thoughts were to drive out, stay across the Golden Gate Bridge in Marin County, and spend some time going from town to town checking things out. Many of you also know that Matt offered to fly back to Michigan, spend a week or so with family and friends, and ride back with me.

So that’s where we are…on our way to San Francisco. We got kind of a slow start. Without going into a lot of detail, we planned to leave at 2 PM yesterday, left Hastings at 3:45 (my fault), and had to stop at the cottage. We made it as far as Munster, Indiana which, luckily, is the home of Three Floyds Brewing Company (what a coincidence). We had dinner and maybe, just maybe, a beer or two, then called it a day.

We stayed at a motel near the expressway. When we took the exit, we drove about a mile down the road, so I thought to myself, at least we’re far enough from the road noise to get a good night’s sleep. Not so!! We turned to the right, made another quick right, and drove a mile back on the service road to I-94, I-80 and whatever other highways intersect there. We could have thrown a rock to the Eastbound lanes, and I thought Matt was going to do that this morning. The traffic never stops, and it was 99% “big rigs”. To say it was loud was an understatement. But the trials and tribulations don’t end there. We stayed at a Motel 6 and paid three extra dollars for Wi-Fi which did not work. I spent 15 minutes this morning getting the three dollars taken off my credit card.

When Motel 6 says in their ads “We’ll leave a light on for ya”, we didn’t think that meant right outside our window, shining through flimsy curtains. Between that light, Matt having to put his hat over my phone ‘cuz my phone light kept blinking, and having to put on his head phones on to drown out my snoring, he didn’t get much sleep. He hasn’t shot me yet, but if I disappear, check Matt’s luggage.

To help break up the trip, we drove to New Glarus Brewing Company near Madison, Wisconsin. We planned to get there by 10:30 but that didn’t happen. The Tom-Tom doesn’t like it when states change road names and addresses, so it took us to Madison, out to Verona, and told us we were at our destination as we passed the bike special needs area for Ironman Wisconsin. We had to drive 16 miles back South to get to the town and another mile South to the new brewery. We took the self-guided tour, Matt sampled a beer, and we bought around three cases to go. We had to unpack and repack the back of the Jeep to fit it all in. Many states have laws against bring beer into or out of the state, so we may be calling for bail money.

After leaving New Glarus, the quickest way to get back to I-90 is through Madison. Luckily we went right by Ale Asylum Brewing Company, so we stopped there for lunch. As it turned out, Ale asylum is less than a mile from where we stayed last month for Ironman Wisconsin.

Needless to say, we didn’t make much headway, so tomorrow is a full travel day. We’re spending the night in Albert Lea, Minnesota and will get into South Dakota a couple of hours into the drive tomorrow. It started raining when we left Madison and it rained on and off all the way here. The wind is blowing quite hard. Hopefully the storm that is going through will pass by us in the night and it won’t be bad tomorrow.

So I’ll sign off for now. I’m tired and my brain is working way below its normal 50% level.

Just (Bloated And Tired Of The Drive Already) Jack

I’m sure many of you know I went to Florida this past few days to see my Mother and Brother over Mother’s Day weekend. You probably think that the title means I had a good trip, and I did. We talked a lot about the “old days” and talked a lot about family, both living and not. We went out to eat at our favorite places and I even had my Mother going along to try and find a new beer bar on State Road 54 near the Suncoast toll road. We went through a bunch of boxes looking for Dad’s doctorate diploma and sorted through dozens of photo albums, but still couldn’t find it. We went to JD’s in Indian Rocks Beach on Sunday so Mom could get Chicago Style Oysters, one of her favorites. So we did have fun.

The title actually refers to my run last Thursday. I got to Florida on Wednesday and the weather was really warm, in the high eighties. I planned to run on Thursday, so I got up early and was out the door by 7 AM. I could go into a science lesson here, but some of you would soon lose interest and I’m sure all of you know anyway. But this time of the year, it gets light earlier and stays light later in Michigan than it does in Florida. But by 7 AM it was plenty light and I headed out the front gate of the condo complex. I waved to the guard at the gate and was headed for the public street when a girl came out of the house near the entrance, hopped in her car, and looked to be headed for work.

I was concerned that she might back out as I ran by, so I was watching to see if she did when, all of a sudden, I was on the asphalt skidding on my right knee, my stomach, and the palms of both hands. I didn’t see the speed bump, but it saw me. My water bottles went flying and skidding down the asphalt as well and I knew it wasn’t going to be good. You would think I would be concerned about possible injury, but the only two things going through my mind were 1) I’ll bet that guard is laughing so hard he’s fallen off his chair in the guard shack and 2) I bet when the Trilanders hear this they’ll be trying to stifle even bigger laughs. Many of our running group like to do a trail Marathon or Half Marathon over near Pinckney. They’ve asked me to come, but I don’t like trail running because I don’t see my feet very well. Almost all of them have fallen over tree roots at one time or another and I’ve kidded them about it, shaking my head, wondering why anyone in their right mind would do that race. This last time I told them I could think of better ways to get hurt and everyone got a chuckle.

I picked myself up, dusted off my hands which had been scrubbed raw, picked up my water bottles, and continued on the run. I could tell that my knee was bleeding a little, both hands were sore, and my right elbow and right shoulder had been jammed. By the time I got back, the sweat was running into the bleeding knee and it was starting to sting. I cleaned myself off as best as I could and took a shower to get the rest of the dirt and sweat off. Mom brought me some antibiotic ointment so I wouldn’t get an infection, and I didn’t do much (athletically) the rest of the day. By bedtime I was starting to hurt all over and the elbow and shoulder pain had crept up my neck. My left hand throbbed all night and I was more sore by morning (I knew I would be).

I’m pretty well healed up by now but my left hand isn’t quite right yet. The right elbow and shoulder pain were OK until I came home yesterday and had to carry my bags through the airports. As for the run, it was the same old story. Left hip was sore at three miles and I stretched it enough to finish four. On Sunday, I planned to run seven miles but was only able to do six. And that run was a three mile run, two minute stretch, one mile run, two minute stretch and a two mile run followed by a limp back to the condo. This getting old isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. Muncie Half Ironman is in eight and a half weeks and I’m not anywhere near where I should be in training. If things don’t drastically improve soon, I may drop down to either the AquaBike or the Sprint Triathlon and call it good.

The Sunday before I left for Florida, Becky and I picked a whole lot of dandelions for dandelion wine. We tried to pick off all the stems and I picked the petals from half the heads before I got tired. We poured in boiling water and soaked them for a couple of days. On Tuesday night, we cooked the juice, added the zest of four oranges, the juice of four oranges, and three pounds of sugar. We added yeast nutrient, yeast, and let it ferment while I was gone. It will be ready by December, so those of you who come to the 3rd annual beer, wine, and mead tasting party can try it. The stains from cleaning all those dandelion heads is just now coming out from under my fingernails. All that for a gallon of wine that we may not even like.

Just (Getting Ready To Put In The Dock At The Lake) Jack

If you actually read this drivel, and I know a couple of you have, you’ll remember me whining several times about my aches and pains. I guess everyone who trains for athletic events runs into some injuries from time to time, but it seems like I’ve run into more than my share. You can attribute my fragility (is that a word?) to being undertrained in the first place, doing more than I’m capable of doing, or any one of many other good reasons. But I really think a lot of it has to do with the way I’m built.

I have a lot to thank my parents and grandparents for, but athleticism isn’t one of those things. I can’t remember anyone on my Mother’s or Father’s sides of the family being athletic at all. Part of it was the era that many of them grew up in. Part of it was that women didn’t participate much in athletics for many reasons. But even if they weren’t involved in athletics, they would have passed on those natural instincts. Those things that make good athletes great are usually size, body composition and great hand/eye coordination. I have size but not height where I need it, and my body composition puts things in the wrong places. Plus, I have very little coordination of any kind (want to see me dance?).

I’ve always liked sports and have been active in many different things, but I’ve never really been what you would call “good” in any of them. I actually wrote a series of chapters in a book I call “I Am Not The Greatest”, a takeoff on Muhammad Ali’s claim “I Am The Greatest” throughout his boxing career. I chronicled my forays into many different sports from childhood on up through now. If I ever get over the fear of criticism, or I get arrogant enough to think that anyone would be interested, I may let a person other than me read it (it’s password protected).

Last fall it was plantar fasciitis. Recently it’s been my hip. When I run more than three or four miles, my left hip starts to hurt. I’ve laid the blame on old age and being overweight, and I’m sure that has a lot to do with it. After a crappy run on Wednesday, Jean and I rode the bikes on Thursday. It was a really nice day and the wind wasn’t blowing that hard (until we got out there), so we rode the time trial loop. From our condo it’s about 23 miles, so it wasn’t all that far for a third ride of the season.

I was fine on the way to Middleville, but as I got as far away from home as the ride would take me, my left hip started to hurt. It hasn’t done that on the bike…only when I run…until now. I got to squirming on the bike seat and just couldn’t get comfortable. I think I kinked my body to make it as comfortable as possible and that’s what strained my back (shades of Jean at the Hawaii Ironman). It’s muscular (back spasms) so it isn’t serious, but it’s really sore. I can’t get comfortable sitting, standing or laying down. If that wasn’t bad enough, I’ve fought with PVCs (premature ventricular contractions) for several years and they aren’t a serious problem, but they do cause me to tire easily. That, and turning into the wind that the weather channel said would be 5 mph but was actually 10-15 mph, and it made for a long ride back.

I think I’ve figured out that my brain, my muscles, my bones and my joints are all working against me. I think they’re sitting around drinking coffee, decaf of course, trying to decide what to torment me with next. Since I don’t have any natural ability, but I go out and do all these things anyway, they try to figure out what will make me stop and sit in a rocking chair like I should. A few years back they ganged up and made me take a couple of dives off the bike. After the third, and most serious mishap, they figured out that I wasn’t going to quit until I croaked, and that wouldn’t be in their best interest, so they gave up.

This past couple of years they’ve decided that the only way it will work is to keep throwing things at me, one right after the other, until I can’t take it any more. My only saving grace is that I have someone on the inside of the group as a spy. As much as my brain wants me to stop, it realizes that if I do, and I do sit in a rocking chair the rest of my life sampling homebrew, I will gain way too much weight and things will get worse. So “Brain-Jack” goes along with the other parts until I’m almost ready to throw in the towel, then eases up, thinking that, by doing that, I will get out of my long distance training and into a more sane lifestyle. Maybe I will, but I’m still signed up for The Muncie Endurathon Half Ironman, so I can’t back off yet.

Once my body realizes that I’ll walk that race if I have to, it may ease up the injuries to let me get through the race with a modicum of dignity…or not.

Just (Laying on A Tennis Ball To Loosen Up The Muscles) Jack

I went to the office and did our taxes yesterday. This has to be latest I’ve ever done them. For some reason I just couldn’t get fired up about taxes this year. Maybe, when you get older, you have lower levels of taxtosterone, so you just don’t get cranked up like you used to. At any rate, I wasn’t looking forward to it and I got a real surprise. Most would say surprised in a good way. As for me, I don’t like surprises, so I’m in a slight funk.

Without bragging or complaining, I’ve woked hard through the years, made more money than average, and paid a lot more taxes than average too. I knew that there had been some changes on how capital gains and dividends are taxed, and did expect some benefit. What I got astounded me. Again, without going into a lot of detail, much of my income is from capital gains. None of it was taxed at the federal level. My state taxes are higher than my federal taxes this year.

So how could I possibly be “surprised in a bad way”? I’ll tell you why (you knew I would). I believe we live in a great country. I grew up learning that if you work hard, you will make a good living. And if you make a good living, you have to pay taxes to help pay for all the benefits of being a United States citizen. We all grumble that we don’t get paid quite as much as we’re worth. And we grumble that we pay too much in taxes. But, deep down, we’re thankful we’re speaking English (or something that resembles English) and not Chinese, or Russian, or German or ________ (if I haven’t offended you yet with the ethnic slams, fill in the blank with your country of origin). It gives us the pride of living in a country where the fortunate will help the unfortunate, the wealthy will help the poor, and those who have bounty will feed the hungry who have nothing (I sound like a TV evangelist…send money, send money).

So if I believe all that I’ve just said, and I do, I should be concerned that I and others in my same circumstance aren’t shouldering our share of the load. I do understand that the decision to lower taxes on capital gains was done to stimulate investment in our capital markets, and I won’t second guess the economists as to motive. But in fairness, why should I pay less in taxes than a young couple with two children who make the same amount as we do? And not just a little less…a lot less. It’s just not right!

After having said all that, don’t expect me to send a few thousand in “voluntary taxes” to make things right so I can sleep at night. But I am sure I’ll send more money to charities this year. Probably not to political action committees and probably not to the “build the casino now” campaign.

I’ve had new carpet put in the hallways, master bedroom and stairs at the cottage. I’ve been trying to come up with some wallpaper for the end wall in the master bedroom that used to be red. But I can’t come up with anything that doesn’t look cheesy (even cheesier than red). So I think I’ll have Jean and Stacy Anderson help me pick out a color and I’ll paint it, again. I’m thinking about giving them my credit card and sending them to Grand Rapids to buy things to help decorate. The thing that holds me back is that it has an $18,000 credit line. Knowing the two of them, they may max it out and there goes the tax savings. The hungry and homeless are out…the shoppers are in.

Just (Earning Pluses To Offset Past And Future Minuses) Jack

I’ve been off the air waves for a time and have some catching up to do. Jean and I have talked with many of you about the New Orleans Mardi Gras trip and we joke about the “what happens in New Orleans stays in New Orleans” stories. But, actually, nothing happened there that I wouldn’t tell my own mother. She gets these e-mails so I’m telling the truth. I sent a link to the Trilanders about some pictures I posted on picasa and that link is http://picasaweb.google.com/justjack1946 . Many of the Trilanders’ e-mail systems didn’t include it as a link so they weren’t able to see the pictures. If it doesn’t come through in a different color and underlined, and when you click on it nothing happens, you can always copy and paste the link in your web browser window or type it in the space where you would type any other webside address. If you still have trouble, ask your kids for help.

As I look back at the pictures, son Matt isn’t in many of them. It wasn’t that he stayed away from me but he was often sitting next to me, so the pictures didn’t include him. The pictures from Europe had lots of pictures of Matt so, I guess, the girls and Rocky and Robert deserved some equal time. There are a couple of pictures I didn’t get that I wish I had. One was of Matt, Jean and I in Jean Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop. It’s a bar down Bourbon Street away from the chaos. I visited and spent some time there on my last trip to New Orleans in 1964. It really hadn’t changed all that much and it was much as I remembered it.

The second was at the Endymion parade. We were standing along Canal Street in the center island where the streetcars go. The crowd was about thirty people deep and we were about eight people back from the front fence. To our right, a guy had brought a stepladder, and his “heavier than average” girlfriend was up on the third step. We couldn’t see past her and right next to her was a lamp post so we couldn’t see past that either. A guy about 6’1″ was right in front of us and a short, young Asian girl came along and got on his shoulders. She was wearing a fairly short skirt, so six inches in front of my face were her underpants staring right back at me. I put my camera down on front of me as if I was going to take a picture, but I didn’t have it turned on.

She was quite self conscious and kept trying to cover her rear end, but it wasn’t working very well. She was wearing a sweater so Rocky’s girlfriend Nina suggested that she take it off and tie it around her waist. We told Nina she should mind her own business which got a big laugh from all the dirty old men standing around us.

The third, and the one I regret not getting the most, was at some random bar where we had lunch. A couple of nights before we had all gone out on Bourbon Street and the booze was flowing freely. Jean left at around 10:30 ‘cuz Robert had just gotten in and was on his way to the hotel. Before she left, she was ragging on Rocky for having a couple of shots with the other kids (although I think I had a shot of Jaegermeister and a “Red Headed Slu#”, whatever that is, so it wasn’t just the kids). I left a couple of hours later but the kids stayed until quite late. Rocky had a bad case of the brown bottle flu the next day (Friday) and vowed to never drink again. So when we stopped at the random bar for lunch on Saturday, he came walking out of the bar area into the back courtyard with what he said was a shot of vodka. He drank it right down saying he wanted to put the fire out and get back to having some fun. I looked over at Jean and she had a look on her face (shock and anger) that only a Mother can have. I knew it was water but Jean didn’t. Her eyes could have burned holes in Rocky’s shirt and I missed the picture. Where’s Judy when you need her?

With all the stories and the pictures, what really impressed us is that it was the first time in about six years that we had all the family together. It wasn’t cheap, but it was worth every penny. The kids all had fun together and caught up on each other rather quickly. After the first night, Jean and I were back in the hotel by 10 or 10:30 and the kids stayed out later. We’re already thinking about where the next family trip should be. It was never easy to get all nine of us together to do anything, but we did have a “family dinner” the last night we were there. Anna was the only casualty ‘cuz she can’t stand the smell of seafood and we went to a seafood restaurant. But she hung in there like a trouper and I don’t think she’s permanently scarred.

We didn’t run while we were in New Orleans but we walked about 10 miles a day, so I guess we got our exercise. I guess I missed a few things here in Hastings. You’ve heard me mention Diane before, and we know her as quite prim and proper. So I’m quite curious about the conversation down at the coffee house last Saturday that started out with one of the guys saying “So Diane, I know you like to go “au naturale”…” I’m quite shocked and want to hear more about the story.

Just (Having Visions Dancing Around In My Head) Jack

Right now I have CNBC on the tube and, if you’ve listened to it since the recent financial crisis began, you would take your money out of every investment you have and hide it in your mattress. The talking heads all seem to think that things are dismal and there’s nothing good in the markets to invest in. I know my retirement accounts went down 35% since the beginning of the year. But I don’t plan on using any of that money for five more years so, by then, I expect it will go back up. Maybe not to the levels they were before, but much better than they are now.

Real estate hasn’t fared any better and most of you know we own more real estate than most. But you can’t spend real estate anyway so, for us, it’s not that big a deal. I did get the cottage back from the renters, but I planned to do that anyway. I miss the cottage as a cottage and, right now, I don’t really care if it sells or not. I know it’s way bigger than we need for a “cottage”, and it’s at the end of the earth as far as Jean is concerned, but it’s only 14 miles away and I really like it there.

Besides, it’ll give me something to do this winter (wallpapering and painting) and summer (reclaiming the lawn from the moles and landscaping). On the negative side, since December 31st, when I got it back, I’ve shoveled 3 inches, 1 inch, 6 inches and 9 inches of snow out of the driveway. Am I estimating the number of inches? No! I always have something with me that’s 6 inches long, so I can accurately measure whenever I want.

Back to the financial crisis or lack thereof. Things haven’t changed much for Jean and me and, today, I got a raise of $18,744 a year. I got my first social security check. I don’t really need it, and I’ll probably put it in a money market account, but it’s money I put in and I want some of it back. Yeah, yeah! You employees know that you put in 50% and your employer puts in 50%, so only half of it’s actually your money. But I was self employed for most of my work years and I had to put in both halves. It’s all mine and I want it back before we use it to bomb some other poor hapless country.

I started running again for the first time since mid-November. I only ran once in Europe and, with the plantar fasciitis problem, I didn’t run much from early October until I stopped altogether to let my foot heal. Starting up again is really tough. I can’t swim in pools, I haven’t ridden the bike trainer much, and I haven’t run at all, so the only cardio I got was the elliptical, and that’s not very intense. After my first run of 3 miles, my quads were so sore I could hardly walk up and down stairs. I ran again Sunday at Martin’s Trilander run, brunch, snowshoe, cross-country ski, and ice fishing festival. About eight ice fished, but they must be new Trilanders ‘cuz I didn’t recognize any of them. Martin had the chain saw all set to cut a hole in the ice for the first annual Trilander Polar dip, but no one signed up.

My run consisted of a two mile struggle, a 100 meter walk, another mile struggle, and another 100 meter walk. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I ran outdoors yesterday. They talked a lot about the cold temperatures and colder wind chills, but the weather wasn’t all that bad. The run was! I felt nauseous before I went out and felt worse all through the run. I ran a mile before I had the choice of 1) continue running or 2) puke. I chose to walk. After a while, I started to run until I was right at the edge of barf, then walked again. Since some of you may be eating, I won’t go into my bathroom misadventures throughout the day. Suffice it to say, my digestive system must be empty…battered but empty.

I’ll ride the bike trainer again today and will keep the three runs (not the bathroom kind) and the three bike trainer rides in my weekly training schedule. I’ll add weights two days a week and an elliptical here and there until we can get outside in the spring. I did find an endless pool on E-Bay for $6,000 dollars but decided against it. I’m not sure I’d use it enough to make it worthwhile. It’s not a group swim type of pool and nobody would want to stand around and watch another person swim 30 minutes before it was their turn. I’ll save the money for something else. Besides, I’m not very competitive in my age group anyway and the “good geezers” aren’t dying off fast enough, so no need to lower my swim time by two minutes in a 6 hour race. I may be done racing anyway. I was first in my age group in my last race (I was the only one in my age group) so there’s nowhere to go but down. Quit while you’re ahead!

Just (Watching It Snow Again And Again And Again) Jack

I’m out of the landlord business and I’m happy to have the cottage back. I’ve made four trips back and forth since Sean turned over the keys…well, all but the garage entry door key. Has anyone seen it? Now it’s a matter of taking things back that we moved to the condo in town. Slight problem! About the time we rented out the cottage, Jean rented out the Green Street house, so she moved things here as well. Most of the things at the cottage were nearly new since I had bought them when I got the cottage in the first place and we sorted out things from both places we wanted to keep and things we wanted to give to Goodwill.

Now I see that some of those things have worked their way in everyday use, so I think it will be hard to pry them away from Jean. I told her I was taking the portable CD player out to the lake because that’s why I got it in the first place. She had adopted it as her own, and carried it everywhere from next to her bike trainer playing the oldies to the kitchen playing Christmas music ever since Halloween. I waited until she was at work on Friday and spirited it away. She didn’t say anything but has been walking around with a black armband.

Back in September, I told Sean and Alana (the renters) that I wanted the cottage back by March 20th. That would give them plenty of time to find a place, but they would be welcome to stay all winter. Sean called me about three weeks ago and told me they had found a place and would be moving around Christmas. They had given me a $500.00 deposit back in September 2007 and had always paid their rent. The rent went from the 21st of one month to the 20th of the next. He thought they would be completely out by the 26th or 27th so what should they do about the December to January rent? I told him to just not pay it and we would prorate whatever time they were in there past December 20th and deduct it from the deposit.

They were supposed to close on the Kalamazoo house on the 19th, get possession that same day and be out within a day or so. As it turned out, they didn’t close until the 23rd, the weather turned bad and they weren’t completely out until the evening of the 30th. We met on the 1st of January for the official “turning over the keys” and to settle up the deposit/rent situation. In the meantime, I had gotten a billing for the 4th quarter sewer of $103.50, and they always paid for that in addition to the rent. So 10 days divided by 31 days in a month times $975.00 equals their allocation of rent of $314.51. And 91 days (from October 1 through December 30) divided by 92 days in the quarter times $103.50 equals their allocation of sewer of $102.37. That brings their share to $416.88 which, subtracted from $500.00, is $83.12 and that is the amount of their refund.

So I gave them an accounting on a sheet of paper and wrote them a check for $500.00. WHAT WAS I THINKING? Sean stood there in disbelief and couldn’t think of a thing to say. I said, “Before you pass out, here’s the thing…I could have rented the place to someone who didn’t pay their rent, sat there and trashed the place, and they didn’t. Next, he and Alana were all packed and set to move out before the next month’s rent started and, through no fault of their own, they couldn’t. They fixed all the minor things that went wrong with their own money, and only contacted me when something major happened…like when the siding blew off the house.” As to their share of the sewer, I didn’t tell them the bill was coming, and I knew they probably had spent most all of their savings just to get the new house and move in. I didn’t have the heart to spring that on them.

Without admitting any past transgressions, let’s just say I have a few minuses that still need to be offset by some pluses.

I’ll have plenty to do this winter painting, wallpapering and generally getting the cottage to be mine again. Matt is here for a few days, so I’ll prey on him to help carry out the TV and TV stand and the microwave. I may take out one of the basement chairs to sit in and probably won’t take much else until renovations are made. The renters left it surprisingly in good shape. Not as clean as I would have left it, but I may be a little on the picky side. I have since mopped the living room/dining area twice to get the tracked in salt to not streak the floor. Where is Judy when you need her to take pictures proving that men actually do know how to mop? Sorry guys. I gave away one of the “man-secrets”.

For those of you who don’t live in Michigan, we had a minor ice storm here this morning. The streets and sidewalks were ice-covered and very slippery. There were several reports of cars sliding into ditches. In eastern Barry County, near where Brian and Brenda Green live, there were reports of three mental patients running down the road, wearing stolen Trilander jackets, trying to escape. No one knew which hospital they had escaped from, but law enforcement issued a statement saying, “They must be crazy…no one in their right mind would go out running on a day like this”. Hopefully they have been taken back and are receiving the mental health treatment they deserve.

Just (Didn’t Run Today, Maybe Tomorrow) Jack

“Tis the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring…” ‘cuz I’m all alone. No, don’t feel sorry for me…that’s a good thing. I went to the hardware store, bought myself some wood glue, and fixed my computer chair. Well, really it’s a dining chair from the set that was out at the cottage. We brought it in when we rented the cottage out and I’ll take it back out since the renters are moving.

I had told the renters I wanted the cottage back by March 20th. I don’t have much to do without having the cottage to putter around at, and it doesn’t look like a sale is going to happen anytime soon. So, I’ll take it back, reclaim the yard from the moles…or at least get it back to a 50-50 stand-off, and use it as a cottage until the real estate market gets better.

With the rent money from the last 15 months, I may look at some upgrades too. I plan to replace the carpet in the downstairs hallway, the stairs, the upstairs hallway and the master bedroom. I may consider air conditioning, although there are lots of ceiling fans and you only need it for two or three weeks of the year. I’m also thinking about lawn sprinklers…the lawn always seems to die out in late July and August. I may consider some type of path or stairway to get from the main level down to the lake without having to walk on the lawn or through the walk-out basement. That list should keep me busy.

I have all my Christmas shopping done and have had for a few days. Granted, much of it is gift certificates and cash, but those take work too. I went to Kalamazoo last week to get a couple of things for the kids, and it cost me $18.82 at Bell’s for some liquid refreshments (take home) and $38.74 for four Belgian import beers at Tiffany’s. Maybe I should have stuck with internet shopping.

I may have brewed my first “pour-out” batch to date. In September I made a Dopplebock. It’s a higher gravity, higher alcohol lager beer that requires cold conditioning. I made it according to the recipe, except that I substituted dextrin malt for malto dextrin (that shouldn’t make much difference) and I couldn’t find Tettnanger hops so I used Spalt hops, a recommended substitute. I hit my expected original gravity within one point (actual 1.082 vs. expected 1.081), and my final gravity within two points (actual 1.020 vs. recipe 1.021 to 1.022). I fermented it at recommended lager temperatures, transferred it to secondary as directed for a few more days, brought the temperature up for a diacetyl rest for a couple of days, and lowered the temperature to 35° for a seven week lagering.

When I bottled it, all I could taste was alcohol and I wrote in my notes “YUCK”. It’s been carbonating for three weeks, which is too short for a lager, but I had to taste it anyway. It is lightly carbonated and, again, all I can taste is alcohol. I’ll have Matt try it when he comes to Michigan in January. Maybe it will improve by then or maybe it’s exactly like it’s supposed to taste and I don’t like dopplebocks like I thought I did. The book says it peaks at around five months, so I’ll probably give it that long to bottle condition. If  it’s not any better, I’ll either pour it out or give it to anyone who has lost their taste buds but wants a quick buzz (8.24% alcohol by volume).

This looks like it will be a scattered Christmas. Robert is here now and will be until Sunday, Sara will come over tonight but is volunteering at the Battle Creek Mission all Christmas day. Rocky and Nina will be here the day after Christmas, and we’ll have our Christmas dinner on Saturday with Sara, Robert, Rocky, Nina and Jean’s brother and sister-in-law. Matt and Anna will be spending Christmas in San Francisco and Mom, Bob, Patti, Aunt Sharon and Uncle Fred will be spending Christmas in Florida. Nice weather in Florida and California vs. crappy weather in Michigan…what would you pick??

As usual, I have overdosed on chocolate, peanuts and other sweets and my body is rebelling. Without getting into the gory details, I’ll just say I’m laying off the sweets for a couple of days (really, I am) and will try to get rid of some of this “winter weight” after the holidays along with everyone else. As I’ve said before, if I was an alcoholic, Jean would have shot glasses of whiskey all over the house. She’s not helping my weight problem and I, obviously, have no self control.

Just (Wishing For Stretch Pants) Jack

I just got back from a quick trip to Florida, as many of you already know. I’m guessing you expect me to blast the airlines for something/everything, but I’m not going to do that. When I fly, especially when I fly alone, I have plenty of time to think (DANGER!!DANGER!!). When I thought of the prices for flights, rather than thinking they were expensive, I thought they were cheap. Here’s the scenario. It’s like going up to a person and saying “I’ll give you $197 to take me to Florida and bring me back. I’ll drive to your place, we can go whenever you want, and I’ll have someone pick me up at your place when we get there. I need to come back on Monday, but I’d be happy to drive to your place and leave, again, whenever you want. And, by the way, I hope you can carry my bag for me ‘cuz I don’t want the bother”. What do you think that person would say?

I made the arrangements at the last minute, so I looked around for the least expensive flights. I got a flight out of Flint Bishop Airport for $100 less than Grand Rapids, Lansing or Kalamazoo. The drive is an hour and 45 minutes, door to door and the airport is on this side of Flint, so you don’t have to fight traffic at all. The overnight parking is $5 a day which is cheaper than Grand Rapids (I don’t know about Lansing or Kalamazoo). The airport buildings are quite new, fairly small, and easy to get through.

The only problem I had on the way down was passenger related. I went through security with only two or three other people in line. As is fairly common, I stepped in line behind a woman with three bags of stuff (you’re only supposed to have one plus your purse). She put them all down and rifled through one to find her picture ID. Out came three or four candy bars (Ghirardelli) and a couple of small bags of candy. Most people would have told me to go on by while they repacked their mess, but not her.

We got to the next station and she took three tubs to put all her junk in. One of the TSA people asked her if one of the bags was a C-Pap machine and she said yes. The attendant told her the motor had to be out of the bag, so she unzipped the top and pulled the motor out along with five or six more candy bars. It took her a while to stuff them all back in the bag and we were on our way. At the other end it took her a while to gather all that crap together while I, again, stood and waited for my things. We went on through and, since ours was the only flight taking off, she was in the same waiting area. When she got there, she took off her coat and sweater. She was around 50 years old, and was wearing a pair of black stretch pants. You can probably guess that, with that many candy bars in her bags, she should not have been wearing stretch pants…that’s all I’ll say about that.

The weather was great in Florida and Mom, Bob and I had a good time doing family things. I’ve been having a plantar fasciitis problem with my left foot lately. It may surprise you to know that I didn’t take any of my running clothes down there so I could give the foot a rest. It also may not surprise you that I went for a couple of long walks which is just as bad for a plantar problem as running. I’ll plan to run tomorrow in the Thanksgiving Day Trilander outing, but that will probably be it until the end of the year. We’ll see.

So, back to the travel.  My flights back up were fairly uneventful. The woman next to me from Tampa to Atlanta fell asleep and dropped her magazine four times on the floor. Her son picked it up each time and confiscated it the last time so she wouldn’t drop it again. I’d say it slipped off her lap, but with her build, she didn’t have a lap.

The girl next to me on the flight from Atlanta to Flint looked 15, but was probably 25 and was flying up to see her boyfriend. She had never been to Michigan and hadn’t been in snow. She was wearing a light, tight sleeveless top and a light sweater which she took off during the flight. She was a little nervous so she talked quite a bit. She was very short, less than five feet tall but, and I’m trying to be delicate here, was very, very well endowed. When I looked at her to talk, I really tried to keep my eyes focused on her face, but it wasn’t to be.

At the Flint airport, I went to baggage claim and waited there for my checked bag. After about half the bags had come through, I saw it coming and was relieved. Just then a  guy picked it off the belt and started walking out with his family. He was a guy about my age and was with his wife (I assume) and a young couple in their early thirties. I started to follow after them, trying to see if it was mine. I had just about caught up with them to ask if he was sure it was his bag when another that looked just like it came out from the back onto the belt. I turned around thinking that the guy had picked up his own bag since mine had my name on the airline tag and he looked like he could read. Not so!! The other bag wasn’t mine and it was the only bag not claimed.

I was kicking myself for not chasing the guy down but, by then, he was long gone. Come to find out, it was the young couple’s bag, and the airline baggage tag was covering my name tag, so they never saw it. When they got to Midland they realized it wasn’t theirs and, eventually took it back to the airport. The bag was delivered to me yesterday safe and sound. I have learned to not put anything in a checked bag that you couldn’t stand to lose.

So the only problems I had with the flights were passenger related, not the airlines.

Just (Happy To Be Home In The Crappy Weather) Jack