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It’s time to go hard on here for two days and then I’m disappearing for the rest of the week.
- We went back to Dayton yesterday to visit family and these trips always come with a tour of areas where I spent my youth. To say things look worn out is an understatement. The house I grew up in has at least 5-6 vehicles parked in the concrete driveway my dad poured one weekend with his buddies. I remember it like it was yesterday and it’s been like 30 years.
- The huge basketball court my dad built off the main driveway now has at least three trucks parked there. The basketball hoop is gone. The beautiful willow trees my grandfather grew from seedlings are gone. The house is a total mess. The trees my dad planted are way overgrown. The neighborhood is a mess. Needless to say it’s completely depressing to see your childhood home, even with the warts that came along with life during those days, where there are so many memories, in a state of disarray.
- My 10-year-old son can now tell the difference between where I grew up and how he’s growing up.
- I’m not sure if it’s the lack of income, drugs, lack of giving a shit, or what it is, but my hometown is now filled with some serious dirtbags who don’t take care of anything.
- We transported two Marion’s pizzas via an insulated bag like a pizza delivery guy would carry and those pies stayed warm for five hours. My in-laws ordered a deluxe and it arrived right in time for their dinner. Needless to say they were very happy with how the pie held up during transport.
- I’m not looking to start a fight over pizza. I know there are several of you who hate Marion’s pizza. It reminds me of my youth. Let me enjoy it for a second.
- My brother, who works for the Miller/Coors distributor in the Dayton region as a store rep, gave me a boots-on-the-ground update on the state of Bud Light. He said that the Miller/Coors truck drivers are now running two trucks per day because the demand is so high for the product. Stores he services are just not taking new delivery of Bud Light and it’s gotten so bad that he reports the local Bud distributor recently gave all employees a $500 check because money just isn’t rolling in right now due to the boycott.
- “It’s bad,” my brother said. In fact, he just kept saying it over and over.
- My kids are now starting to really enjoy their uncle working for the beer distributor. They get things like a 70″ Oberon beer pool float.
- Today’s my 13th wedding anniversary with Mrs. Screencaps. We have to get one kid to STEM camp, one to a baseball game and we’re both working. Life sure does change from the early days of marriage.
- Saturday, our 10-year-old got his first legit baseball hit in a 12U game and it was in the bottom of the 6th with two outs and two strikes. Needless to say, I was very proud of him for overcoming his nerves and succeeding. It was pretty powerful to watch from the shade of a locust tree.
Can’t wait to get this blown up for the kids:
I know several of you are financial planning experts
I keep going back and forth on whether this stat even shocks me. I saw it last night on the news after watching golf and my brain kept telling me this isn’t even remotely surprising, especially after taking a lap through northwest Montgomery County, Ohio hours earlier where there’s a very stark difference between those who have a couple of nickles and those who owe several nickles to several banks.
The number that actually jolts me is this one:
And while we’re at it:
• Bill H. writes:
I read mostly you and Mushnick for my sporting news.
Phil posted what you have been preaching:
…especially, “No scholarships will be handed out today.”
That’s quite an honor from Bill H. It will be a successful career if I can have a run like Phil’s had with the New York Post.
I’ll say this about watching the 12U game on Saturday: It was more my pace. There are way fewer parents screaming and thinking their kids are headed toward college scholarships. The kids understand the game with much less direction, and for house ball, they could play. I was very happy to see that from the 11s and 12s. The outfielders were tracking line drives. The infielders were catching liners. There were multiple 1-2-3 innings. I could see myself getting comfortable coaching at that level for a few years.
One more thought:
I’m pretty sure I’m burnt out on tubby baseball moms screaming behind fences, leading dumb chants like they’re at a six-day travel ball tourney where the kids get the plastic Super Bowl rings. Thank god Mrs. Screencaps just sits there in silence thinking about whatever she’s thinking about.
Checking in from France
• Ripcurl writes:
Checking back in from frogland. Before I share our most recent travels, I thought I should respond to one of my fellow SC acolytes. They were asking how I got our dog accredited as a service dog. Actually, the Mrs. handled all that. She tells me that she and her doctor followed a process that they found on line that included registering the dog and getting notes from the doctor. I will try to find the link for someone to do the same.
Last weekend, we headed down to Carcassonne to visit a consultant/friend who helped us through the paperwork and idiosyncrasies of getting over here to France. Carcassonne is a very old city. I was told that it is the birthplace of the Knights Templar. Not sure if it is true, but it is pretty cool to think about. My experience with that group of folks was limited to the guys wearing fezzes driving small funny cars.
Our friends took us to one of the great food stores I’ve ever had the pleasure of visiting. It is called La Ferme. They had an incredible selection of wine, meat and cheese. Here are some pics:
We got a bunch of meat and cheese, and of course wine. All was being brought back to our friend’s place for an afternoon of noshing. On the way back to their place, they took us to a boulangerie that was selling baguettes that were still warm. Just awesome.
We have many more excursions planned as we settle in and hunt for a place to buy for the next few years here.
Take care man, I will poke you again soon.
• John L. writes:
This Tuesday marks the 79th anniversary of D-Day. As a lame-ass baby boomer who was never in the military, I remain especially proud of my father’s service. He was a member of the 101st Airborne Division, 501st Parachute Infantry Regiment.
Dad first saw action early on the morning of June 6, 1944, jumping into Normandy. I thought that Screencaps nation would appreciate his recollections of that moment:
“…I could look out the window which you could not normally do when you were sitting down, and after a while I saw light beams and tracers and flack in the distance and I thought some poor bastards are getting it over there. Not too long after that the green light came on over the door, but the plane started pitching wildly and tilting side to side, and the lieutenant and first sergeant were struggling to get the equipment bundles out. They finally did and jumped after them and the stick started to move forward and I followed Thompson up the line and he stopped at the door. I said to myself, my God he’s frozen and I’m going to have to push him out. But then he went and I got in the door and I saw this ack-ack fire coming right at me and I saw a plane caught in the searchlights, and flashes, and explosions, and tracers all over the place and I thought they can’t expect us to jump into this, it’s a mistake and we have to go back. Then I remembered all the others that had gone ahead of me and I knew I had to go too and I tried to walk out as we were trained to do, with the right foot first so that it’s caught by the blast and gives you the proper direction, yet I couldn’t make it. I don’t know whether this was because I was paralyzed with fear or because the plane was tilting so much. Then I realized I had my hands on the door so I pulled myself out head first, a second passed, the chute opened, and because of my position I got a terrific whack on the back of my head, and my jaws snapped shut knocking out a filling in my teeth. I was spitting out the filling and looking around and there I was over a flack battery. Tracers were coming right at me and I jerked out of the way and I decided that I couldn’t possibly do any good landing on top of it, so I steered my chute away and then there seemed to be plenty of time to do everything.”
This was only the beginning, as my father carried on fighting in France, the invasion of Holland, and the Battle of the Bulge. The bravery these men exhibited continues to amaze me.
These first-person account messages, no matter how many times I receive them, get me every single time. It’s hard to put into words how much respect I have for those who have put it all on the line for this country.
I’m ready for more. Tell us the stories of your fathers and grandfathers. This space is wide open Tuesday. Let’s do this.
That’s it for this morning. I promise not to take the foot off the gas even with my work hours dwindling before I disappear into the northern Michigan wilderness.
Have a great day at work.