Now we know the answer...they don't!

Concert in the Park

It was a magnificent, clear 75 degree evening, a perfect night for an outdoor concert. My oldest son, Scott, has played flute for 25 of his 35 years, and 10 years ago, after concluding his college degrees, he joined the highly-regarded Palatine Concert Band.



The crowd assembled early, many enjoying picnics before dark descended, and all enjoyed the performance of classical, pop, jazz, show tunes, and movie themes, rewarding the musicians with thundering applause and a standing ovation after the encore number.



The photo below shows Scott in the flute section. His wife, Sarah, sometimes plays in the flute section, too, though she much prefers the piano.

Pre-Father's Day reading

I compose this entry teary-eyed and I recommend that all men, whether you still have their fathers around or if they've passed on, or if you, too, are fortunate enough to have son/s, to read the following article, Holy Ground, by Wright Thompson, senior writer for ESPN's website and magazine. I guarantee this poignant vignette will make you, too, teary-eyed and warm inside, as he recounts fond moments, lessons learned, and missed opportunities with his late father.

I thank my younger son, Steve, sports fan extraordinaire, who sent me the link to this article, along with his love (actually, probably the only time he ever signed an email with "Love, Steve.")

Love you, too, son!!!

It's true!

Poem #5 -- Lake Powell Reveries

In 2003 I spent a week aboard a houseboat on Lake Powell as part of an active, outdoor Elderhostel program. Rather than sleep in the crowded compartment on the boat with five roommates, I opted to take my thin mattress onto shore each night and sleep under the stars since there were no bugs and no threat of rain. In the photo below you can see the houseboats on the shore to the right. There are photos of me driving the boat, climbing a boulder clog, and kayaking the narrow slot canyons in the photo column to the right. Lake Powell, after six years of drought, was 100 feet below normal pool level, exposing areas of Glen Canyon that had been under water for 40 years, providing even more exploration opportunities.

It was a marvelous five nights under the vast star-studded sky (people pay big bucks for five-star accommodations, but for no extra cost, I enjoyed million star accommodations!) Each morning upon awakening, lines of a poem sped through my mind and I jotted them down, and by the end of the week, the following poem was born.

Lake Powell Reveries

Atop the hillside, red sand my bed,
blazing stars enshroud my head,
houseboat below on lapping sand,
Gregory Butte commanding the land.



Eyes weary, I fight sleep off
for awesome firmament engenders thought
of places distant, of adventures near,
of family and friends, of love, of fear,
of earth's great circle spinning here
amongst this starry cosmic sphere,



until thoughts cease and sleep takes hold
in wafting breeze and pleasant cold,
and dreams supplant what eyes did gaze
as kayak and houseboat toppled waves,
of Glen Canyon's glory, long concealed,
by multi-year drought, now newly revealed,
its soaring, timeless, sheer-wall cliffs,
canvas for ageless petroglyphs,
its sandstone flats where dinosaurs trod,
its slot canyons choked with boulder clog.



Till sunlight rises and full moon sinks
below azure waters etched with pink
and dazzling sunshine casts its sheen
painting red rock aglow and white rock agleam,
bathing Navaho Mountain in morn's new gold,
reminding of tales the ancients told,
flaunting coyote tracks ringing my bed,
testament that wildness is not dead.

My rousing mind celebrates all it sees,
till swarming gnats end my reveries,
and back to the houseboat I retreat
to forever relish Lake Powell memories.

copyright 2003 by Chuck Morlock

Biking the McHenry Prairie Trail

Another 25 miles biking today, this time between Crystal Lake and McHenry, including the roller coaster hills of Veteran's Acres and Sterne's Woods.



Above, Dave and Patti bike alongside fields, a Christmas tree farm, and a sod farm, and below, Patti crests the highest of the roller coaster hills.



Below, a few shots for you who are railfans like my son, Scott -- 2 track maintenance cars we saw today.

Getting Older?

My buddy, Greg, in Florida is 35. I just read on his blog that he feels old. Ha! Little does he know about being old!

The Joys of Aging

The best thing about being 104 is no peer pressure.

The nice thing about being senile is you can hide your own Easter eggs.

Just before the funeral services, the undertaker came up to the very elderly widow and asked, "How old was your husband?"
"98," she replied. "Two years older than me."
"So you're 96," the undertaker commented.
“Yup,” she responded. "Hardly worth going home, is it?

I've sure gotten old.! I've had two bypass surgeries, a hip replacement, new knees. Fought prostate cancer and diabetes. I'm half blind, can't hear anything quieter than a jet engine, take 40 different medications that make me dizzy, winded, and subject to blackouts. Have bouts with dementia. Have poor circulation; hardly feel my hands and feet anymore. Can't remember if I'm 85 or 92. Have lost all my friends. But, thank God, I still have my driver's license.


A 97-year-old man goes into his doctor's office and says, "Doc, I want my sex drive lowered."
"Sir," replied the doctor, "you're 97. Don't you think your sex drive is all in your head?"
"You're damned right it is!" replied the old man. "That's why I want it lowered!"

An elderly woman decided to prepare her will and told her preacher she had two final requests. First, she wanted to be cremated, and second, she wanted her ashes scattered in Wal-Mart.
"Wal-Mart?" the preacher exclaimed. "Why Wal-Mart?"
"Then I'll be sure my daughters visit me twice a week."

My memory's not as sharp as it used to be. Also, my memory's not as sharp as it used to be.

I've still got it, but nobody wants to see it.

I'm getting into swing dancing. Not on purpose. Some parts of my body are just prone to swinging.

The good news is that even as we get older, guys still look at our boobs. The bad news is they have to squat down first.

These days about half the stuff in my shopping cart says, "For fast relief."."

Don't think of it as getting hot flashes. Think of it as your inner child playing with matches.

Remember: You don't stop laughing because you grow old -- you grow old because you stop laughing.

THE SENILITY PRAYER : Grant me the senility to forget the people I never liked anyway, the good fortune to run into the ones I do, and the eyesight to tell the difference.

Now, I think you're supposed to send this to 5 or 6 others, or maybe it's 10. Oh heck, send it to a bunch of your friends -- if you can remember who they are.

Poem #4: There

...yet another word adventure...

Everyone has a "There" -- a place, specific or general, where you feel safe, comfortable, content, yourself. Free. Uninhibited. Satisfied and gratified. Natural. Relaxed. In no hurry to leave.

You may not even be aware that you possess such a place. So sit back, read the following, and then contemplate where your "There" is.

There

Seek diligently to find your There,
ever sentient of There places
which furnish personal pleasure and meaning
and comfort and sanctuary,
where irrelevant time
passes more slowly than childhood summers.

There is where you belong,
your wellspring of self-sustenance,
your headwaters of joy and peace and
infuser of oneness.
There wallow and exalt,
blossoming in intimate verdancy.

Do not defend or elucidate your There,
for only self may define personal geography.
Words prove insufficient tools
to construct explanation,
as inept as describing spiral staircases
without the use of hands.

Once There is found,
flee There often and linger.
Roost, extend roots long and strong and deep
and suck There's nourishment.
Plant forever body and soul
so none may pluck you from There.

For There is yours alone
even when willingly shared.
None can remove you from There
or There from you.
Go There.
Be There.
Become There.

copyright 1997 by Chuck Morlock

(So, where is your There?)

In honor of gas prices

Girls Will Be Girls

The junior high principal had a problem with girls who were starting to use lipstick. When applying it in the bathroom, they would blot their lips on the mirrors, leaving lip prints. So he spoke to the teachers and asked them for their help. They promised to speak to the girls, but after two weeks, the situation didn’t improve. So he called a few of their parents who were his friends for their advice, but to no avail. The mirrors were constantly a mess.

Finally he thought of a way to stop it. He gathered all the girls wearing lipstick and took them into the bathroom and lectured how hard it was to clean the lipstick off the mirrors. He noticed the girls nodding their heads “Yes,” but smirking to one another and laughing behind his back.

Then he asked the custodian to demonstrate how difficult it was to clean the mirrors. The custodian took a long handled brush, dipped it in a toilet, and vigorously rubbed the lipstick off the mirror.

From that day on, the mirrors stayed lipstick free.

Softball

From the choir picnic, I hurried over to my son, Steve's, softball game in nearby Lake Zurich where we used to live. Steve is on a team with a couple of our former neighbors, the Jacksons, and though they enjoy playing softball together each week, the outcome today was a tad one-sided -- unfortunately in favor of the other side -- 21-2.
In these 2 photos, Steve's blazing speed beats out an infield hit (you can see the ball in the air over the shoulder of the first baseman) and shows him catching a low line drive out in right field.

Choir Picnic

Today was our annual choir/worship team picnic. I've sung in church choirs almost continuously for over 45 years now, the last 10 at the Village Church of Barrington, and this picnic is one of my favorite social events with the group. I helped with the grilling this year, and here I am with our hostess and soprano, Avis, and Mark, a fellow member of the bass section, who has just finished setting up volleyball, croquet, boche ball, and bag toss courts in the several acre back yard in Long Grove.



The crowd is under the big top enjoying respite from the intense sun as they eat from the abundant food supply and converse with friends.

Poem # 3 - WanderLust

Poem # 3 - WanderLust

Ever been on a hike in a forest and come to a trail junction -- and wanted to go BOTH ways? I do. Always. My curiosity kicks in and I just want to wander every possible route and discover what's just around that curve in the trail or just over that rise. Or when I'm paddling down a river and come to a canyon. I want to hike up the canyon and explore its farthest reaches. It isn't always possible to do such exploration, but the longing is always there. This poem celebrates such desires.

WanderLust

Curious to know what's over that riseor around that bend?
What's a mile beyond here,
or a minute beyond now?

Courageous enough to scale that intervening rise
and round that obscuring bend?
To venture that further mile
and live that eternal minute?

What education may the side canyon confer?
What treasures may the endless trail unearth

or the infinite night sky reveal?
What headwaters of new-thought await?

Wilderness is home to the soul,
and its sights and sounds and scents
vital to the soul's nourishment,
beckoning one's spirit.

Abandon inertia and reap Nature's bounty:
moments to savor,
memories to share; both
mementoes to save.

Travel both diverging paths
within yonder yellow wood.
Be one traveler who avoids
the sorrow of the road not taken.

Curiosity kills neither cat nor man,
but bequeaths adventure and mission and exultation
to otherwise humdrum existence.
Acquiescence kills.

Yet few Dare.
Even fewer Do.
But none who Do
ever regret.

copyright 1997 by Chuck Morlock

Fairfield/Gilmer Reconstruction

After spending the better part of the day indoors at a meeting and luncheon, I needed to get the body moving and the heart pumping, so I went on a quick 10 miler on the bike, including a jaunt to the closed intersection of Gilmer/Fairfield to check out the reconstruction of the intersection, now a month into a 4 month closure to build an overpass/underpass for this daily traffic jam intersection.



The above photo is looking east from the newly graded/raised Gilmer approach showing the newly excavated Fairfield below and the start of the concrete work to support the overpass beams. Straight across is the eventual continuation of Gilmer.



The second photo looks north from Gilmer at Fairfield down below, showing the completed east embankment wall. I believe from what I saw that the connection between the two roads will be at this point -- the northwest corner of the old intersection and just in front of the new phase of Town & Country's Liberty Lakes subdivision.

In Honor of Paris Hilton

Roller Coaster Trail

Len and Marlene and I biked 19 miles on the Fox River Trail today, including this section we call the "roller coaster" due to its 1 3/4 miles of forested, twisting, up-and-down hills -- a wonderful segment of trail. It was a comfortable 70 degrees with a 20 MPH breeze -- a vast improvement over yesterday's 90 degrees with 45 MPH gusts, and lots of people were out today, biking, jogging and walking the trail.




Then we topped off the morning with a tasty breakfast at East Dundee's Benedict Restaurant. Wow -- this retirement business is sure a dirty, thankless job (but someone has to do it!)

My Loveable Losers

Another lifelong adventure I’ve been on is being a baseball fan. But not just an ordinary fan. Nope, not me. I was destined to cheer annually and relentlessly for a perpetual losing cause.

Do you know which major league baseball team has had the longest streak of not winning the World Series? It’s my Chicago Cubs, of course. And though I sheepishly admit it, it really isn’t really my fault. No, really -- I didn’t actually have a choice. You see, I grew up less than a mile from Wrigley Field.

We used to walk over to the ballpark after elementary school on game days, and they used to open the big doors on Waveland Avenue at the end of the seventh inning and we kids were allowed to walk in and see the last few innings free. Even that late into the game, we still got front row seats in the left field bleachers since so few attended afternoon weekday games back in the ‘50s, and I’d be able to talk to my favorite player, Hank Sauer, the left fielder. And since we had no expectations of winning, we were never disappointed or frustrated. They were simply our loveable Cubbies and lived up to the non-expectations we held for them.

We didn’t care that they lost 2/3 of their games year after year, decade after decade, generation after generation. They were our Cubbies – our loveable losers. And over the years we had Ernie Banks (“Let’s play two!) and Ron Santo and Billy Williams and a procession of wonderful guys and good players to cheer for and admire, but never enough great players on any year’s team to win consistently. And we had Hall of Fame broadcasters Jack Brickhouse, Lou Boudreau, and Harry Carey to entertain us and commiserate with us, and they too loved the Cubs despite how poorly they played.

But then, lo and behold, the Cubs had a few really good years. Not good enough to win it all, but good enough to get our hopes up, which were then summarily dashed, year after year, by devastating, choking collapses. These near successes and all the hype whet our appetites (“Wait until next year” became our annual mantra), got us to thinking that maybe we could be winners, maybe we could be champs instead of chumps, and that maybe the Cubbies could do what the Bears did, and what the Blackhawks did, and later what Jordan’s Bulls did. And yes, even what those south side Sox did. But it never happened for us. Even the perpetual losing Boston Red Sox eventually won it all – but not us.

To put our losing streak into historic perspective, consider these facts: The following major events have occurred since the Chicago Cubs last claimed a World Series in 1908.

• Radio was invented; Cubs fans got to hear their team lose.
• TV was invented; Cubs fans got to see their team lose.
• Baseball added 14 teams; Cubs fans get to see and hear their team lose to more clubs.
• George Burns celebrated his 10th, 20th, 30th, 40th, 50th, 60th, 70th, 80th, 90th and 100th birthdays.
• Haley's comet passed Earth twice.
• Harry Caray was born -- and died.
• The NBA, NHL and NFL were formed, and Chicago teams won championships in each league.
• Man landed on the moon, as have several home runs given up by Cubs pitchers.
• Sixteen U.S. presidents were elected.
• There were 11 amendments added to the Constitution.
• Prohibition was created and repealed.
• The Titanic was built, set sail, sank, was discovered and became the subject of major motion pictures (the latest giving Cubs fans hope that something that finishes on the bottom can come out on top.)
• Wrigley Field was built and becomes the oldest park in the National League.
• A combination of 40 Summer and Winter Olympics have been held.
• Thirteen baseball players have won the Triple Crown; several thanked Cubs pitchers.
• Bell-bottoms came in style, went out of style and came back in.
• The Chicago White Sox, Cleveland Indians, Boston Red Sox, and the Florida Marlins have all won the World Series.
• The Cubs played over 14,000 regular-season games -- and lost the majority of them.
• Alaska, Arizona, Hawaii, Oklahoma and New Mexico were added to the Union.

Great quotes in Cubs History!!!

"Noise pollution can't be that much of a problem [at Wrigley].
There's nothing to cheer about."--State rep. John F. Dunn, arguing for the installation of lights at Wrigley Field

"If I managed the Cubs, I'd be an alcoholic."--Whitey Herzog

"There's nothing wrong with this team that more pitching, more
fielding, and more hitting couldn't help."--Bill Buckner

"You get tired of looking at garbage in your own backyard."--Cubs manager Lee Elia in 1983 about why the Cubs got rid of so many
players. (Elia was fired later that same season, perhaps for honesty.)

"The Cubs were taking batting practice, and the pitching machine
threw a no-hitter."--Radio deejay

"The only bad thing about being released by the Cubs is that they
> made me keep my season tickets."--Ken Rietz, ex-Cub third baseman.

"Would the lady who left her nine kids at Wrigley Field please
pick them up immediately? They are beating the Cubs 4-0 in the 7th
inning."--Radio deejay

"One thing you learn as a Cubs fan: When you bought your ticket, you could bank on seeing the bottom of the ninth."--Joe Garagiola

"The Chicago Cubs are like Rush Street--a lot of singles, but no action."—also Joe Garagiola

Huh???

Must have been ordered by the administration!

Messages from God

As I've traveled across our country hitting all 50 states, I've driven past hundreds of churches that proudly displayed inspirational messages on the sign boards on their front lawns. Here are some of my favorites:

• Worry is the darkroom in which negatives are developed.
• Don’t wait for 6 strong men to bring you here.
• Free trip to heaven – details inside.
• Spend thyme in church and become sage.
• Can’t sleep? Don’t count sheep. Talk to the shepherd.
• TGIF: Thank God I’m Forgiven.
• Let’s meet at my house before the game. Bring the kids. – God
• Wal-Mart isn’t the only saving place.
• Wise men still seek Him.
• Come in and pray today. Beat the Xmas rush.
• Unplugged? Come in and get current with God.
• Epiphany: An enterprising Star Trek.
• Make your eternal reservations now – smoking or non-smoking.
• Prayer will put backbone where your wishbone is.
• Forbidden fruits create many jams.
• Is what you’re living for worth dying for?
• For all you do, His blood’s for you.
• Summer advice: Exposure to the Son will prevent burning.
• Sign broken: Come inside for message.
• Seven days without prayer makes one weak.
• Soul food served here.
• God says: My way IS the high way.
• You think it’s hot here? Signed, God
• Learn about our prophet-sharing plan.
• Character is doing what is right when no one is watching.
• Under same management for over 2000 years.
• For fast, fast relief, take 2 tablets.
• God does not vacation from you.
• This church is a gift from God. Assembly required.
• The sign is broken. Come inside for message.
• Try Jesus. If you don’t like Him, the devil will always take you back.
• Body piercing saved our lives.
• Rumor is the only thing that thickens as you spread it.

Hope everything comes out okay!