Scotch Therapy

February 26, 2006

Well, this is a first for me.  We are on the way home from Hawaii on the Red Eye at 37,000 feet.  I am such an uncomfortable flier and I can’t sleep on planes very well, so I thought I could continue my journal.  We are smack in the middle of the Pacific Ocean right at the halfway point.  I tried the usual Scotch therapy but no luck.  I had a sleep aid with me but decided not to take it.   Our trip was with our two San Francisco grandchildren and their Mother, Diane. I think they had a good time.  I know they saw lots of whales and did some snorkeling.  They spent many hours in the Napili Kai pool.  Our weather was not very good the first half of the week but it turned around midweek so we had some nice warm Hawaiian days.  Kim and I didn’t do much but it was pleasant and easy. 

The big news of the week was that my son Charlie and his wife Dionne have had their fourth child, a girl weighing 5 pounds 11 ounces.  Mother and baby are apparently fine although Dionne’s pregnancies are generally tough.  But delivery was quick and all seems well.  Of course, we knew about the baby coming but always consider it a miracle when it is over.  Her name will be Sofia, although I don’t know the spelling.  A beautiful name.  This family lives in Juneau, Alaska and so we won’t be going up soon.  Juneau is hard to get too and very cold too.  As usual, in all families that is not the entire story but we are going to work hard to get to see Charlie’s whole family this summer.  So I am Papa for the sixth time, I think that will be it until the dear Whitney starts making us young again with her brood. 

I am struggling to get going on my book-writing project.  I must spend the next couple of days rereading my Roman blog and start to make notes on what has meaning and what themes will resonate with the old geezers who I think will be the audience for this piece.  It is ultimately about life as I see it and my relationships and also what can be learned even if learned late, about achievement and the curative of accomplishment. Who knows if this is possible from me?  I do intend to find out if I give it half a chance.

The Story of Writing the Story

February 21, 2006

It is February and we are in Hawaii.  We have been coming here for the last seven or eight years to spend a week with Kim’s sister Kelsey and her husband Matt.  Because we were in Italy, we did not get here at the same time they were here.  It is a little strange without them because Matt has been coming here since childhood and Kelsey for about 20 years.  They know everyone on the staff and take over the bar that looks west into the always-glorious sunset. We miss them and their friends, Jill and Dave.   Our spot is up on the North end of Maui above Kaanapali and right next door to the big resort at Kapalua.  The people here are all older with a smattering of people with kids.  I always think I am among the younger guys but not anymore. 

This year because we came home early from our Roman experience, my daughter and her two girls are with us.  They were supposed to visit us in Italy but we returned home before their expected visit so this is their makeup trip.   She has added to the mix her “friend” Sean.  I am hoping they all have fun.  This week in Hawaii is always a very relaxed week with very few plans and an easy cadence that makes it feel like a real vacation.

Normally it is warm with an occasional afternoon warm shower but this year it is very cool and it is raining on and off throughout the day.  Apparently, they have had very little rain in Maui this year and the natives welcome it, but I would prefer the sun and warmth that I associate with this place.  Yesterday, I went down to play golf on the North Course at Kaanapali and in the 7 or 8 miles to the South the temp was warmer and there was no rain.  The afternoon was windy but fair and I was able to swing freely.  Maybe I should warm up before playing because it sure helped my game to be looser and warmer.  I love those really hot days in Sonoma with the temperature up around 95 and very little humidity.  The course, which is set-up for lots of play, is rather easy and wide open.  I finished strong with 2 pars in the last three holes.  My first score of the year in the 80’s!  The big surprise today is that my nagging shoulder still hurts and my body feels the effects of playing 18 holes of golf.  I played squash late last week and as usual I am still feeling the effects of that in my hips and knees.  I am going home with a resolve to lose at least 10 pounds to see if I can reduce the effect on the knees.  I somehow cannot give up squash but must limit myself to no more than two matches a week.  It is the sweetest of games and even with my diminished skills still about the best fun for me. 

I am getting lots of help from Kimberly, her nephew Tobin and the inimitable Michael Kahn.  Dr. Kahn is my meditation advisor, sometime therapist, older brother and wise man who is helping me get to a better place.  They are encouraging, prodding, and shoving me forward with my project undisclosed in this blog until now.  I am going to try to turn my Italian daily journal into a rather personal book with the themes of aging, death, artistic struggle, and the joy of transitory moments. It should be an interesting project.  I think I can do it but it will be a tough assignment.  I am just crazy and egocentric enough to think I have something to say.  The strategy is to see if Kim and I can produce an outline so that I have something to start the project.  Then using the raw material of the journal see if there is enough meat to get a manuscript together that someone would publish.  I expect to get some help from daughter Diane who is in the publishing business.  Tobin O’Donnell, the aforementioned nephew, is a poet and writer and has already given me sound advice. Kim is my spirit guide, editor, and my center.   Dr. Kahn has encouraged me since the outset of the blog to keep writing and posting this journal.  I do think it is a wonderful way for me to express myself.  It is a struggle for a crusty old guy who hates the aging process to make it through a complex and altogether sweet life.  That may sound like a contradiction but I do know how lucky I am.  I am intrigued by how it is going to go.  My intention would be to use this journal to tell the story of writing the story.

Kim and the rest of the girls are at the hula class and I get to write.  It is another one of those high notes. 

The Great White Hope

February 15, 2006

I have been cruising around in my new little Mercedes Benz toy.  It is a really cute small roadster with a hard top that folds down in about 15 seconds and its ride is smooth and comfortable.  It is so different from my Porsche Boxter S which had a very sporting ride (read your ass is basically on the pavement), a soft top and handled like a sport car.  The Benz is smooth as silk with decent acceleration and gets much better gas mileage.   It even cost somewhat less.  It is time to admit to myself that I have a car Jones.  Most of my personal cars have been convertibles.  I had a couple of Mustangs, a couple of VW convertibles in the late 70’s and early 80’s, a fantastic old Mercury Cougar that has its own story to tell, an early Infinity, a Slob (Saab) and more to come I hope.  The new car is always the great white hope.  I know it will be my last car and the best one that I have ever had.  Then the disillusionment sets in and something is not right.  The only car I ever wanted to keep more than a couple of years was the mid 80’s muscle Mustang, bright red, high horsepower and very HOT.  It was sweet.  It was a leased car and my partner Albert told me I had to turn it in when the lease was up. 

Yesterday, I had to go to Oakland for a meeting at the college.  The weather was warm and the top does go down.  I could hardly wait.  I sailed over the Bay Bridge to my meeting and all systems were go.  I find that I am not so interested anymore in how fast I go even if the car will go pretty fast.  I can just see the Highway Patrol looking at this great new car and salivating at the chance to make a speeding stop.  I am not interested in taking those guys on anymore. They have way too much power for me.  Still on the bridge going either direction, the views are even more special with the top down and music playing.  I’m crusin’. 

When I was a kid in Lima, Ohio, cars were not readily available to my brother and me and I used the one family car.  I do remember my brother Bob calling in one night from some lover’s lane telling Dad that the car was stuck and he had to be rescued and towed out.  What an embarrassing moment for him.  So, for me, I said that when I grew up I was going to have any car I wanted.  I am slightly uncomfortable that I like cars so much; I even like and own a Ford truck, which is a blast to drive - my Ford 150 Four Door super machine.  I have also owned many sedans, SUVs and even a Morris Minor when I was in college.  I still miss the 1952 Chevy Two Door that drank oil like a true drunk drinks whiskey.  I hope I never get over this reasonable fetish.

Getting Stronger

February 11, 2006

Getting back into my exercise routines is a process not without pain and some suffering.  My trainer Achim, who is a totally nice guy, has been easing me back into my free weight program.  I have always loved being in the gym and Achim is the best trainer I have ever had.  He is a big guy, about 6 feet tall and weighing in at about 270.  He is not fat, just big.  His calves are like big round fence posts and he is thick in the shoulders with huge arms.  Of course, like every other trainer he shaves his head.  The whole effect could scare you if you didn’t know how good he was at protecting his clients from hurting themselves.  Because of my new hips, lifting can be dangerous but in the care of this trained pro I feel safe.  This in no way means that he goes easy on me.  It means that our exercises are designed to not injure me and at the same time get me stronger. Not only am I the oldest guy in the gym but basically damaged goods.  If it is not the shoulder on a given day, it is the knees or the hips.  Oh well, I still love it.   Now playing squash and golf has made almost everything sore, but it’s the kind of sore that I like. 

Yesterday, my friend Lou, the most competitive guy in the world, and I played golf.  It was a grand day in Sonoma.  The course was still wet but it did not hamper the game.  We walked 18 holes and I came home tired and stiff.  Incidentally, I won $1.00 which considering my sucky game was a triumph.  Lou never gave an inch and we fought our way around the course in under 4 hours.  Lou will never be Tiger, but like him he never gives in.  Once home and after a short nap, I climbed into the hot tub for a long soak.  This helps my game, which is definitely early season.  I need the fairways to be harder and the greens slower.  This is the year that one time, I will break 80.  I got close last year with an 81 and that was fun.  I think I followed the 81 with a 101 but still a good score for me.  This is a game that should be played from childhood and is very complex.  It is a mind bender and rewards the cooler head.  Apparently, I can’t take too much pressure.  If you stand over the ball long enough you are sure to miss the shot.

A Big Positive

February 9, 2006

Most important things first today. The tests that Kimberly took today came out negative and that is a big positive.  They were checking for some cardiac issues with an echocardiogram and all is not only well but I think the Dr. said the word perfect.  I love it when they use those kinds of words.  She still has a throat issue to resolve and we will take it on right away.  So it will be back to the gentle Dr. David Cohen.  He has been my internist for over 25 years and I hope to use him for another twenty-five.  He is the Doctor’s Doctor and a very nice guy.  He treated all of my kids after they came this way and always asks about each of them.  He thinks I am on the heavy side, I wonder what made him think that?  Still, he is one of my go to guys and when I pick up the wrong thing to eat I know Cohen wouldn’t approve but would try to not make me feel too bad.  I got Kimberly to go to him several years ago.  I am hoping he can figure out what is going on for Kim. 

I keep thinking about Rome.  I suppose this is understandable because we really just got home.  We have heard from friends at the Academy and we are missing some of our Roman routines.  Still for all the sweetness of Trastevere, the warm and scenic streets of San Francisco are where my heart really lies.  I don’t want to jinx myself, but riding the Motorscooter in SF makes Italy seem like an impossible obstacle course.  The trees and flowers of Sonoma are starting to bud and soon it will be a real riot of new blossoms and color.  We seem to have returned to most of our old routines.  My golf still sucks, squash doubles is the most fun game in the world, the California College of the Arts continues its full throttle upward arc, and the Sonoma Valley Museum of Art is the most exciting exhibition space in Sonoma County.  So what’s new?  The sun is setting in the West and that is good.  Tomorrow is supposed to be fair and warm.  It feels like home to me.