"Strike called on the outside corner, it went by him like a house on the side of the road." Ernie Harwell's voice would crackle over WJR 760. He would talk about the young Tramell, Whitiker, Parrish, Morris, Gibson all of whom came up in the Tigers farm system.
My grandma Wini listened or watched every Tiger's game ever since I knew her. My grandpa Herman tried his darndest to get to do anything but read my Star Wars book. I loved Star Wars at that age it was everything and that was it. No way was I going to give up the Saga, and for what? Look at books of birds? Eagles? Its the late 70's and Luke, Leia Han and Chewie is all that mattered to a 7 year old boy. Try as he did I held to my laurels and didn't give in. Star Wars it was. My grumpy curmudgeoned grandfather uttered, "thank god for Star Wars." I was like, "YUP."
Both of my grand parents have gone on to bigger and better things. Wini died in 97? maybe 98. I forget. Herman just a few years ago. My grams slipped away during the night. I was there in the morning and able to say goodbye. Gramps left us late in the evening with most of his family around him. He struggled with dementia. I saw him a few years before at christmas and he couldn't recognize me. At first I was hurt but then I started to think about my life growing up. They lived a couple miles away and we visited often. I wrestled with my uncles while Herman would yell, "if you want to play go in the back yard." If my parents needed a few days away from the house and kids I'd find myself with a bag infront of their house wandering how long I had to hear about Eagles and trout and trees and other things that live outside. I didn't have to listen much since I had Star Wars with me. An intergallactic adventure I have lived so many times in my own mind. But eagles, they just fly. No big deal compared to a light saber.
One summer when I was 8 grandpa loaded me and my sister into the car with grandma and we went on a 8-9 hour journey-seemed like it took 8-9 days to get there. the journey was to grandpas Ted Kazinski-Unabomber style cabin in Northern Ontario. No power, running water, heat or fun for that matter. There were some books, comics, old fishing rods, and and outhouse.
Grandpa would not allow fires since there was no way to put it out if it got out of hand. I can understand that but a fire would have been nice. So, what does a bored 7-8 year old do with a cold water lake that was glacier formed with lots of glacier formed stones. Lets throw stones. Skip them across the water until my arm falls off. That didn't last long. Herman says no stones-he worked to long to clear them all out of the waterfront to allow the sandy bottom to tickle your toes. But, the water was maybe 50 degrees. It wasn't going to tickle my toes. I just wanted to throw stones and skip them to the other side of the lake-which was several miles. If I had the power of the force I could do it. No problem. But I was young and not yet trained in the ways of the force. So, I only got a few skips and that was it. but, I only got a few chances. When I wasn't
pretending to have fun fishing I would sit on the VW sized boulder and stare off across the water and day dream. dream about flying across the galaxy to save the universe. Flying, like an eagle? No, like an X-wing fighter. Fighter for good against the tyrany of the dark side and Darth Vader. One night gramps was boiling some water to cook with and I knocked the pot over onto my leg. Since there was no running water there was only a series of pipes that diverted some water from a nearby stream-parasite free I bet. I ran over to the pipe and let the cold Canadian water poor onto my leg. My skin never blistered so I guess it wasn't that bad. No biggy, I figured it was because in orde rto be a Jedi I had to have tough skin so there I began to notice that I was special-chosen if you will to be a defender of freedom and justice in the galaxy. I would soon begin my training as a Jedi. So, the next day we packed up and came home. Never to return.
I went off to college not 50 miles form that cabin. I told gramps that I would be more than happy to look after the cabin. I told him that I would go up there with soem friends have a fire and some beers and keep an watchful careful eye on it as to not let anything near it. Grandpa, fearing that I would set all of Canada on fire never gave me directions or the keys. 5 years up there. Never got to see it. Didn't he know I was a Jedi, defender of the galaxy? Oh well. I had to drink my beers in the Soo. By the way, since there's not a big demand for Jedi in the work world I chose college over the Jedi Academy. So, the Jedi gig never came to fruition. Luke Skywalker was on his own
My life has taken me on many journeys. I have met so many good folks and dummies along the way. Some of whom I will still converse others I just wonder what they are up to. Good thing for facebook I don't have to wonder about too many. I just look them up like any good stalker would.
While on lifes journeys many people have tried to influence me. Sometimes towrds somethnigs that I like to do others I would not even try. Water Skiing. I hate water, with a passion. I won't go on cruises or swim in deep water. I have done it so ican say that I have done it and cross it off my list. Bungie jumping? Not a flipping chance. Sky diving? Why jump out of a perfectly good running aircraft? Now, I have gone fly fishing and that has become a mainstay hobby. I go when I can. I am not good. I do lots of fishing and not a lot of catching. Photography? My right brain domination has lead me to a hobby and even a website. but everybody has a website. Right?
So, getting back on track...I have been fishing in Colorado in the mountains. Not with picutesque surroundings. but, in the middle of an outlet mall. One of the longest rives in Co. has it's headwaters in the middle of an outlet mall. I did manage (with the help of a guide) to pull 11 rainbow trout out of it in a span of 2 hours. Some were bulldozers that didn't know when to quit. they foiught hard and deserved to be released to live another day.
My favorite place to fish is in my home state of Michigan. I am a city boy Detroit though and through. but, I love getting out onto the rivers and streams to take in the smells and the sights and the colors. the Betsie river in the fall is amazing. But the Manistee River with its flat and straight running water almost 4-5 feet from shore to shore. As narrow as 20 feet up to a few hundred wide. A few sandbars give sthe ability to access some nice holes that will hold large salmon in the fall runs. Amwazing leapers are the salmon. Even though they are trying to get the decaying flesh that comes with dying off their sides it is still very humbling to see a 3 foot long fish leap 6 feet out of the water. They are not hungry-they are dying. Laying their eggs and sperm and then off to decay on the banks of the mighty Manistee. When translated Manistee come fom the Ojibwe word ministigweyaa, which means "river with islands at its mouth."
On a weekend salmon trip with good friends and stories of growing accomplishments and large steaks that we have no right trying to eat but we do and then pack a few too many beers ontop of it. This gives a gross bloated feeling in my stomach and throat. but, by the next morning we are stringing up our rigs and back at it. Once on the sand bar-a few feet from a 20 foot deep hole holding several dozens maybe hundred monster size salmon-several hundred casts later I need to sit. Lean on a log and just watch the water go by. just as satisfying as telling tails of galactic service and dominating the fish world with wooly buggers. Listening to the beavers splash around their dens, watching these acrobatic salmon launch themselves into the air, watch the DNR guy watch you, eyeball the other guys coming up on your spot and making it known you do not want them there, maybe snack on a Little Debbie snack cake. Lots of things to do that do not involve throwning out your shoulder tring to cast an 8wt fly rod and line. Heavy and tiresome.
So, as I sit and wonder if I need to use the natural potty or just leave my waders and gear on and suffer trying to hold in the previous nights beer I take a long gaze up in the air. A large black colored bird soaring high above-to high to see what kind of bird. It is just floating-effortless. graceful. It floats lower and lower and eventually lands and rests in the trees straight across from us. In the tallest tree in the forest no doubt. This beautifull 5 maybe 6 foot wing span yellow beak, black winged and feathered beauty without the giveaway white head since it is still young has a large nest. Blad Eagles do not get there white head until they are 4-5 years old. We have been listening to the screaching of disorganized holwing across the river for 2 days now. now we know what it is. A young Bald Eagle is nesting her young. they screach to her as she flies high above to let her know they are hungry. then she brings them a snack that she has picked up for them. For 3 days I was able to watch and admire this creature. This symbol of freedom. this symbol of who we have become, this symbol of who we were. This symbol that reminds my that I am no Jedi. This symbol makes me feel like I want to fly like an eagle someday. The eagle that I showed no interest in as a kid.
Sometimes you just have to sit back on a log or stump and admire the things that you took for granted growing up.
Grandpa, thanks for letting me read about Star Wars.
My grandma Wini listened or watched every Tiger's game ever since I knew her. My grandpa Herman tried his darndest to get to do anything but read my Star Wars book. I loved Star Wars at that age it was everything and that was it. No way was I going to give up the Saga, and for what? Look at books of birds? Eagles? Its the late 70's and Luke, Leia Han and Chewie is all that mattered to a 7 year old boy. Try as he did I held to my laurels and didn't give in. Star Wars it was. My grumpy curmudgeoned grandfather uttered, "thank god for Star Wars." I was like, "YUP."
Both of my grand parents have gone on to bigger and better things. Wini died in 97? maybe 98. I forget. Herman just a few years ago. My grams slipped away during the night. I was there in the morning and able to say goodbye. Gramps left us late in the evening with most of his family around him. He struggled with dementia. I saw him a few years before at christmas and he couldn't recognize me. At first I was hurt but then I started to think about my life growing up. They lived a couple miles away and we visited often. I wrestled with my uncles while Herman would yell, "if you want to play go in the back yard." If my parents needed a few days away from the house and kids I'd find myself with a bag infront of their house wandering how long I had to hear about Eagles and trout and trees and other things that live outside. I didn't have to listen much since I had Star Wars with me. An intergallactic adventure I have lived so many times in my own mind. But eagles, they just fly. No big deal compared to a light saber.
One summer when I was 8 grandpa loaded me and my sister into the car with grandma and we went on a 8-9 hour journey-seemed like it took 8-9 days to get there. the journey was to grandpas Ted Kazinski-Unabomber style cabin in Northern Ontario. No power, running water, heat or fun for that matter. There were some books, comics, old fishing rods, and and outhouse.
Grandpa would not allow fires since there was no way to put it out if it got out of hand. I can understand that but a fire would have been nice. So, what does a bored 7-8 year old do with a cold water lake that was glacier formed with lots of glacier formed stones. Lets throw stones. Skip them across the water until my arm falls off. That didn't last long. Herman says no stones-he worked to long to clear them all out of the waterfront to allow the sandy bottom to tickle your toes. But, the water was maybe 50 degrees. It wasn't going to tickle my toes. I just wanted to throw stones and skip them to the other side of the lake-which was several miles. If I had the power of the force I could do it. No problem. But I was young and not yet trained in the ways of the force. So, I only got a few skips and that was it. but, I only got a few chances. When I wasn't
pretending to have fun fishing I would sit on the VW sized boulder and stare off across the water and day dream. dream about flying across the galaxy to save the universe. Flying, like an eagle? No, like an X-wing fighter. Fighter for good against the tyrany of the dark side and Darth Vader. One night gramps was boiling some water to cook with and I knocked the pot over onto my leg. Since there was no running water there was only a series of pipes that diverted some water from a nearby stream-parasite free I bet. I ran over to the pipe and let the cold Canadian water poor onto my leg. My skin never blistered so I guess it wasn't that bad. No biggy, I figured it was because in orde rto be a Jedi I had to have tough skin so there I began to notice that I was special-chosen if you will to be a defender of freedom and justice in the galaxy. I would soon begin my training as a Jedi. So, the next day we packed up and came home. Never to return.
I went off to college not 50 miles form that cabin. I told gramps that I would be more than happy to look after the cabin. I told him that I would go up there with soem friends have a fire and some beers and keep an watchful careful eye on it as to not let anything near it. Grandpa, fearing that I would set all of Canada on fire never gave me directions or the keys. 5 years up there. Never got to see it. Didn't he know I was a Jedi, defender of the galaxy? Oh well. I had to drink my beers in the Soo. By the way, since there's not a big demand for Jedi in the work world I chose college over the Jedi Academy. So, the Jedi gig never came to fruition. Luke Skywalker was on his own
My life has taken me on many journeys. I have met so many good folks and dummies along the way. Some of whom I will still converse others I just wonder what they are up to. Good thing for facebook I don't have to wonder about too many. I just look them up like any good stalker would.
While on lifes journeys many people have tried to influence me. Sometimes towrds somethnigs that I like to do others I would not even try. Water Skiing. I hate water, with a passion. I won't go on cruises or swim in deep water. I have done it so ican say that I have done it and cross it off my list. Bungie jumping? Not a flipping chance. Sky diving? Why jump out of a perfectly good running aircraft? Now, I have gone fly fishing and that has become a mainstay hobby. I go when I can. I am not good. I do lots of fishing and not a lot of catching. Photography? My right brain domination has lead me to a hobby and even a website. but everybody has a website. Right?
So, getting back on track...I have been fishing in Colorado in the mountains. Not with picutesque surroundings. but, in the middle of an outlet mall. One of the longest rives in Co. has it's headwaters in the middle of an outlet mall. I did manage (with the help of a guide) to pull 11 rainbow trout out of it in a span of 2 hours. Some were bulldozers that didn't know when to quit. they foiught hard and deserved to be released to live another day.
My favorite place to fish is in my home state of Michigan. I am a city boy Detroit though and through. but, I love getting out onto the rivers and streams to take in the smells and the sights and the colors. the Betsie river in the fall is amazing. But the Manistee River with its flat and straight running water almost 4-5 feet from shore to shore. As narrow as 20 feet up to a few hundred wide. A few sandbars give sthe ability to access some nice holes that will hold large salmon in the fall runs. Amwazing leapers are the salmon. Even though they are trying to get the decaying flesh that comes with dying off their sides it is still very humbling to see a 3 foot long fish leap 6 feet out of the water. They are not hungry-they are dying. Laying their eggs and sperm and then off to decay on the banks of the mighty Manistee. When translated Manistee come fom the Ojibwe word ministigweyaa, which means "river with islands at its mouth."
On a weekend salmon trip with good friends and stories of growing accomplishments and large steaks that we have no right trying to eat but we do and then pack a few too many beers ontop of it. This gives a gross bloated feeling in my stomach and throat. but, by the next morning we are stringing up our rigs and back at it. Once on the sand bar-a few feet from a 20 foot deep hole holding several dozens maybe hundred monster size salmon-several hundred casts later I need to sit. Lean on a log and just watch the water go by. just as satisfying as telling tails of galactic service and dominating the fish world with wooly buggers. Listening to the beavers splash around their dens, watching these acrobatic salmon launch themselves into the air, watch the DNR guy watch you, eyeball the other guys coming up on your spot and making it known you do not want them there, maybe snack on a Little Debbie snack cake. Lots of things to do that do not involve throwning out your shoulder tring to cast an 8wt fly rod and line. Heavy and tiresome.
So, as I sit and wonder if I need to use the natural potty or just leave my waders and gear on and suffer trying to hold in the previous nights beer I take a long gaze up in the air. A large black colored bird soaring high above-to high to see what kind of bird. It is just floating-effortless. graceful. It floats lower and lower and eventually lands and rests in the trees straight across from us. In the tallest tree in the forest no doubt. This beautifull 5 maybe 6 foot wing span yellow beak, black winged and feathered beauty without the giveaway white head since it is still young has a large nest. Blad Eagles do not get there white head until they are 4-5 years old. We have been listening to the screaching of disorganized holwing across the river for 2 days now. now we know what it is. A young Bald Eagle is nesting her young. they screach to her as she flies high above to let her know they are hungry. then she brings them a snack that she has picked up for them. For 3 days I was able to watch and admire this creature. This symbol of freedom. this symbol of who we have become, this symbol of who we were. This symbol that reminds my that I am no Jedi. This symbol makes me feel like I want to fly like an eagle someday. The eagle that I showed no interest in as a kid.
Sometimes you just have to sit back on a log or stump and admire the things that you took for granted growing up.
Grandpa, thanks for letting me read about Star Wars.
The cabin door the Grandpa wrote the names of the visitors, dates and the weather
The Cabin
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