My 85-Year-Old Dad: How's your hearing, Doris??
My 85-Year-Old Aunt Doris: No
My 85-Year-Old Dad: Me too
As reported by my cousin Kathy

My 85-Year-Old Dad: How's your hearing, Doris??
My 85-Year-Old Aunt Doris: No
My 85-Year-Old Dad: Me too
As reported by my cousin Kathy
07/15/2010 in Slice o' Life | Permalink | Comments (0)
From The Fourth Checkraise:
In Reddit, there is an interesting thread with over 2,000 comments so far. Suppose you are alone at a gas station, and a 11-year-old kid approaches you and asks for a ride home five miles away. Your move? I don't even drive a car, but my immediate response was exactly the same as it is to the question of what I would do if, when taking a walk in some new-to-me neighbourhood, I saw a crying little kid wandering just by himself: just stay the hell away. And this seems to be the exact response of an overwhelming majority of serious commenters .... Even with honestly benevolent intentions to help the kid, there are just too many things that can go wrong and cost your whole life. Suppose the toddler is confused of the directions to home, so you take his hand and start taking him the wrong way, and the enraged parent catches up after you moments later, not in a state of mind to listen to any explanations? Sorry, not going to happen. Sure, I'm a coward, that is, someone who refuses to take a large risk solely for someone else's benefit. But if it's a choice between one lost kid and my entire future, then there really isn't anything for me to choose, brother.
07/11/2010 in Slice o' Life | Permalink | Comments (6)
A "Program for Life" authored by the late Tom Rettig
USE Yourself exclusive SET TALK OFF CLEAR DO WHILE ALIVE STORE "LOVE" TO heart STORE "health" TO body STORE "peace" TO mind STORE "compassion" TO others STORE "esteem" TO self STORE "faith" TO God REPLACE Negative WITH Positive , ; Judgment WITH Acceptance , ; Resentment WITH Forgiveness REPLACE Hopelessness WITH Choice , ; Confusion WITH Clarity , ; Procrastination WITH Participation REPLACE Separation WITH Connection , ; Lack WITH Abundance , ; Sorrow WITH Celebration @ all, times SAY your_truth If its_time EXIT ENDIF ENDDO SAVE TO Always CLEAR ALL RETURN EOF: remember.prg |
By the time he passed away of a heart attack in 1996, Tom Rettig was a Pretty Good Guy:
Tom had every right to a high opinion of himself. Child actor Tommy Rettig had great success, starring in several movies, and playing Jeff Miller, the first owner of TV's "Lassie." Tom reprised the role a few years ago in an episode of "The New Lassie" series; he wrote the script that had Lassie using a computer (helped by himself as a grown-up Jeff Miller). This was especially fitting, because as an adult, Tom's ability as a programmer was legendary -- he was a guru with a Hollywood-famous name. Yet he was one of the most friendly, accessible people you'd hope to meet.
As news of Tom's death (from natural causes) spread, dozens of people posted messages on the Fox forums. Those messages, while deeply touching, were remarkable for their similarity. Here are a few examples:
"He spoke to people as peers, whether they were on a guru or novice level. He never seemed condescending. Once he was introduced to me, he remembered my name and always greeted me by it as if I was a long lost friend."
"What a class act: Here he is, an acknowledged guru, author and vendor of a powerful FoxPro development environment (Tom Rettig's Office), and instead of talking about himself, he asks about my (relatively piddling) work."
"Somehow when we were around Tom we got to be more valuable than we were before--smarter, funnier, more gracious. And he seems to have made everybody feel like that."
TCM: "Natural, not overly-cute, sincere and obviously intelligent, Tommy Rettig was a child actor who didn’t get on your nerves. And that’s saying quite a bit."
As you might have guessed, real life as a kid actor wasn't as idyllic as on TV. From a 1981 interview:
HIGH TIMES: Why did you get out of "Lassie"?
RETTIG: We sued the producers of the show for four years in a row. One year they put out a Lassie doll with my picture on it and paid me no royalties. They owned the name Lassie and they owned the name of my role, Jeff Miller. We took them to court and they had to either take my picture off or pay me a royalty, so they took the picture off. Another year we took them to court because they told us they were going to pay my salary in savings bonds: "We owe Tommy ten thousand dollars so we'll pay him seventy-five hundred dollars and in three years it'll be ten thousand dollars." Unbelievable sh*t. So, in the last year, the whole cast sued for release from our contracts. It didn't upset the producer at all: "I've still got the dog, don't I" And he did. That's all it took. I'm now syndicated under "Jeff's Collie," and, of course, I make not one cent in residuals.
HIGH TIMES: Hooray for Hollywood. You did "Burns and Allen." What was it like?
RETTIG: Look, I did almost all the hit shows. They were all just another gig. You go there, you get your script, you say some lines, Gracie Allen says some lines, people laugh, George Burns says some lines, people laugh, show ends, you ask for their autograph, pick up your check and go home.
High Times: Fun?
RETTIG: It was work.
But for a teenage boy, it did have a bright side:
Fame did bring some compensations. "I'd say, 'Gee, Mrs. Jones, can I keep your daughter out until 2 a.m.?' She'd say, 'Oh, you're the nice boy from Lassie. Of course, she can stay out all night.' I had a halo on my head, but it was hiding horns."
02/21/2010 in Nostalgia, Slice o' Life, Television | Permalink | Comments (0)
An observation by Robert Fiore:
One of the great wits of sport. Once he's dining out with friends when an exhibit from the Sex Education series walks by. Once everyone had rolled their tongues back into their mouths, Chi Chi says, "And just think, somebody somewhere is tired of that."
01/20/2010 in Slice o' Life | Permalink | Comments (1)
01/10/2010 in Slice o' Life | Permalink | Comments (0)
Excerpts from Don Salyards of Winona, Minnesota:
Especially for my readers who live in the southern United States, India and other warm places, let me tell you what life is like at -20 f (-28c):
Outdoor Soda vending machines: Designed to keep beverages cold, in Minnesota these vending machines must also have heating elements to keep beverages from freezing!
Frozen Pipes: If you leave town for more than 24 hours, you better leave a house key with your neighbor. Make sure the neighbor checks your home at least once a day to make sure the furnace hasn’t gone out. If your furnace stops working, within 30 hours the temperature in your home will fall below freezing. At that point the water pipes in the house will freeze solid and eventually split, potentially costing tens of thousands of dollars to repair. I once had 26 pipes split when I forgot to check a property during a 10-day cold spell. The only way to find out where the pipe “splits” are is to turn on the heat, wait till the pipes thaw, and listen for the sound of water running inside the walls. You shut off the water at the meter, fix the split, turn on the water and listen for the water running from the next split! It is a nightmare that many Minnesotans have experienced. ...
The Vanishing Pot of Water Trick: When the outdoor ambient temperature is -20f (-28c) or lower (this won’t work at temps higher than -20f) you can do the “vanishing pot of water” trick. Go into the kitchen and bring a pan of water to a rapid boil. Take it outside, line the kids up and throw the water up into the air (in a direction away from the kids). As the water reaches the cold air, it makes a hissing sound and a cloud of vapor forms. The water never reaches the ground.
01/03/2010 in Slice o' Life | Permalink | Comments (0)
The Obituary of Future Professional Baseball Player Kevin O'Connell, 13, of Poplar Grove, Illinois
I didn't know Kevin or his family, but after reading this I feel like I do:
KEVIN D. O'CONNELL, 13 POPLAR GROVE - Future professional baseball player, Kevin O'Connell, 13, died unexpectedly Sunday, Nov. 22, 2009, in SwedishAmerican Hospital, in Belvidere, surrounded by his loving family, his eight-year battle with leukemia and graft-versus-host disease finally over. Kevin was an incredible boy. He had an enthusiasm for life that few people create. He loved his family most of all. His friendship with Bennett went beyond brothers. They shared Bennett's stem cells. On two separate occasions, Ben endured the procedure to harvest his stem cells so that Kevin could live. He was rewarded with six wonderful extra years with a brother he will never forget. Kevin always made sure Ben knew how much he appreciated the gift of life Ben gave him. Second only to his family was his love of the Chicago Cubs and Green Bay Packers. Kevin loved being active and athletic. His dad, Glenn, taught him how to fish before he was two years old, and Kevin loved the sport ever since. He could catch a fish when no one else could even get a bump. He loved fishing near his home in Candlewick Lake, and up north at Lac Vieux Dessert. Over the years he landed hundreds of beautiful bass and northern pike. He also loved to catch panfish and have a fish fry. Glenn would filet the crappie, blue gill and perch Kevin and Bennett caught, and Kevin's mom, Jenni, would fry them in Kevin's favorite breading. It's hard to say if Kevin loved one sport more than the other, but baseball could possibly have edged out basketball and football by a hair, at least for his own pleasure playing the sport. He first played baseball at the Belvidere Park District, then four years with Belvidere Youth Baseball, where he met many great players and coaches. For the past two years he played with his best friends, JP, Chase, Austin and Jake on the PunkDogs. He was a natural at second base and could hit the ball hard. He had great coaches like Phil Pawlowski, who treated him with respect and taught him a love of the game. In the past two years Kevin started bowling competitively. He bowled in leagues at Concordia and Dodge Lanes, both in Belvidere. He also joined the Middle School League sponsored by Concordia. He was serious about his technique and would undoubtedly have excelled at bowling too. Kevin was an eighth grader at Belvidere Central Middle School, where he had so many friends he couldn't count them. Kevin was a great student. Last year, in seventh grade, he was named "Trailblazer" of the year. Mr. Lane and all the Trailblazer teachers made a lasting impression on Kevin. This year, although he was only able to attend a few weeks of school he was lucky to have a great homebound teacher, Matt Zilm. Matt did something not even Kevin's mom could, he got Kevin interested in reading. Kevin was reading "The Outsiders" with Mr. Zilm. He talked a lot about how much he liked that book. Kevin had a special extended family. His paternal grandparents, Granny Pat and Bubba Chuck, lived across the street from him and he visited regularly. He loved to party with them for no special reason. His cousin Ryan considered Kevin like a brother. There was never a dull moment at Aunt Colleen and Uncle Ernie's with five active kids. Niko, who was just six weeks younger than Kevin, Sabrina, Reagan, Brittany and Cody. On his mom's side, Kevin had two more special cousins, David and Emily. Kevin looked forward to their visits together. He especially liked going to their house where his Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian would spoil him with anything he wanted. No request went unfulfilled. Kevin was equally loved by his maternal grandparents, Gramma Donna and Bubba Ed. Kevin is survived by parents, Glenn and Jenni (Long) O'Connell; brothers, Bennett and Sean; paternal grandparents, Charles and Patricia (Douglas) O'Connell Sr.; maternal grandparents, Edward and Donna (Sheehan) Long Sr.; aunts and uncles, Colleen (Ernie) Argaez, Charles (Michele) O'Connell Jr., Mary (Brian) Dahowski, Edward (Lacey) Long and Kathy (Bill) Lipinski; cousins, Ryan, David, Emily, Niko, Sabrina, Reagan, Brittany and Cody; and best friends, JP, Chase, Jake and Austin. Liturgy of Christian Burial at 11 a.m. Wednesday, Nov. 25, in St. James Catholic Church, 514 Caswell St., Belvidere, with the Rev. Brian Geary celebrating. Prayers at 10 a.m. Wednesday, in Buck-Wheeler-Hyland Funeral Home, 218 W. Hurlbut Ave., Belvidere. Visitation from 3 to 9 p.m. Tuesday, Nov. 24, in the funeral home, with scripture service at 7:30 p.m. In lieu of flowers, memorials can be given to the At Bat Foundation, in care of Alpine Bank, P.O. Box 6086, Rockford, IL 61125-1086, that Kevin created, in his memory. To light a candle or to share a memory, please visit buckwheelerhyland.com.
11/29/2009 in Slice o' Life | Permalink | Comments (1)
From The Simple Dollar:
It’s often said that people are reflections of their five closest friends in many ways: behaviors, income levels, values, and so on.
Five years ago, almost all of my closest friends spent money like it was water. They were constantly doing things like playing poker, pushing each other to “one up” the rest with better gadgets and other material things, going out for drinks all the time, making fun of each other for looking less affluent, and so on. To put it simply, if you didn’t show many signs of material affluence, you were made fun of and ridiculed. You felt like less of a person if you weren’t spending money hand over fist.
Today, all of my inner circle of closest friends are pretty happy just spending an evening together playing cards or a board game. Instead of constantly going out on the town, we go to each other’s homes and hang out, watching each other’s DVD collections or playing each other’s games. We’ll make meals together and eat them together instead of going out for dinner all the time. Instead of talking about who has the latest gadget, we talk about who’s developed a better strategy at a well-played game or what sort of things we’ve been doing to improve the property we already have.
In that same time frame, my own feelings about spending money changed drastically. I went from spending rampantly to being careful about my money. I started spending more time at home rather than out and about, focusing my energy on getting good at a smaller number of things instead of chasing the new.
Perhaps most interestingly, I went from feeling pretty awful about myself to feeling pretty good about myself.
11/06/2009 in Slice o' Life | Permalink | Comments (0)
Via the American Presidents Blog, Clifton Truman Daniel tells a story about his Grandpa:
Grandpa was the last truly accessible ex-President. When he retired, the Secret Service protection vanished. It was not extended to ex-Presidents until after John F. Kennedy's assassination in 1963. There is a five-foot steel fence around the house, put up by the Service in 1947, but from 1953 to 1964 it wasn't locked. Anyone who wanted to could walk up and knock on the door.
My favorite story is about the man whose car blew a tire on Delaware Street, right in front of the house. Not knowing where he was or whose house he was approaching, the man walked through the unlocked gate and up to the front door where he rang the bell. Grandpa answered in his shirtsleeves.
"Can I use your phone, please?" the man said. "I have a flat."
"Sure," Grandpa said. "Come on in."
The man called a local mechanic, who said it would take 20 minutes or so to get to him.
"I'll wait outside," he told Grandpa.
"Nonsense," Grandpa said. "Have a seat. Relax."
As far as we know, they spent the next 20 minutes chatting amiably in the living room. When the tow truck arrived, the man stood, shook Grandpa's hand, and thanked him for his hospitality.
"Not at all," Grandpa said, showing the man out. "It was nice talking to you."
The man got halfway down the front steps before he stopped and turned.
"I hope you won't take offense," he said. "But you look a lot like that son of a bitch Harry Truman."
"No offense at all," Grandpa said with wide grin. "I am that son of a bitch."
07/10/2009 in Slice o' Life | Permalink | Comments (1)
A couple of excerpts from Marty Nemko:
Here's how the Parasite Syndrome prototypically plays out:
1. After graduating from a brand-name college, the parasites in-training go abroad, for example to India or France, to "find themselves." They return a month or year later, no clearer, although perhaps more desirous of a pleasant and fulfilling life.
2. They take a pleasant and/or fulfilling but low-paying job. (Most pleasant and fulfilling jobs pay poorly--supply and demand.) But because of a desire to live a middle-class lifestyle, the person mooches off parents or romantic partner.
3. At this point, many of the female parasites-in-training think guys who don't make good money are losers. Most males don't think that way of educated low-income women, and so are more willing to marry them. And so, many more female than male would-be-parasites find a host.
4. Sometimes, the income-generating spouse prefers that his spouse not work, but that's uncommon except among the wealthy. More often, the income generator (or his or her parent) asks the spouse to try harder to land a professional-level job so she can contribute to the family income she's good at spending.
So, the non-earner makes a half-hearted failed effort after which she or he rails, for example, "You don't understand how tough the job market is, especially for a woman, and especially with a liberal arts degree."
Few husbands or parents have the guts to tell the non-earner, "Then why did you major in art history?! (or French literature, sociology, women's studies, etc.)" They fear the onslaught of fury, tears, or retaliatory accusations likely to follow. ...
11. Women live much longer than men, in part because of the stress of an out-of-home job, so it is likely that women non-earners will bury a beast-of-burden husband or two and go to her grave having taken far more from family and society than she has given. She has been a parasite.
07/09/2009 in Slice o' Life | Permalink | Comments (3)