Character

 It was very important to me to sit and watch President Carter's funeral yesterday morning, to pay my respects in the only way I could, at the time.  But hey!  I have a blog, so I can publicly pay my respects, while talking about a couple of other things that are going on right now. Although combining this amazing humanitarian, with "the felon", well...... sigh......

President Biden said it best, "character, character, character."  The other people who spoke basically said the same.  Jimmy Carter was a man of character, of principle, he talked the talk and walked the walk.  I think if we each had an eighth of his drive, humility, and desire to serve and protect others this world, this country, would be a better, kinder place

Carter was not the first President in office during my lifetime. I was here for Nixon and Ford, but was too young to remember any of that firsthand, and why would a little child even care? Then President Carter was elected, and we had to do an assignment in third or fourth grade and write a letter to the President. Along with the formal reply letter, there was a picture, and if memory serves correctly, it was a picture of the Carter family, in front of the White House, or inside, it's hard to recall.  I know that Amy Carter was in the picture, and for whatever reason I really spent a lot of time thinking about her, and what it must be like to grow up in the White House. How did I feel about Carter? Meh.... I was a kid.  I did hang that picture on the wall by my bed for a while. 

This is part of a comment I posted on Facebook the other day, that I want to expand on.  Not in a little Facebook blurb, but on a wider scale.  R.E. the current situation. "He is a braggart, bully, convicted felon, rapist, misogynist, and I won't apologize for wanting the President of this country, from either party, to be better than that."  I was writing a reply quickly, because I was in the middle of a busy day, so I did mis speak.  I forgot racist homophobic narcissist. 

Yesterday I was shocked to see that "The Current Situation's" loaded Supreme Court didn't save his bacon, and he would have to be sentenced today by New York State Judge Juan Merchan.  The ruling was 5-4.  We know that he had private phone conversations with TWO of the judges. So, you can do that now?  If you are convicted of a crime you can call up the judge and have a private conversation?  Hmmmmm....... Holding a former President to a different standard.

Today I was not surprised to see that Judge Marchan sentenced The Current Situation to an unconditional discharge, which means yes, you are a convicted felon, but no, there is no punishment for your crime.  In the Judge's own words, he made this ruling BECAUSE The Current Situation was elected again.  Holding a former, and looming President to a different standard.

So, in summary, all the rights and privileges, none of the responsibility for your actions.  That sets a dangerous precedence for future leaders, and for the followers of The Current Situation. (Can you tell that I'm thrilled I finally have something to call him?)

Character matters.  It is SO important to me. I don't have many things in this world, but my character, my name, is very important to me.  Not what you think of me, but what I think of me. I am/was well known in the community that I worked in for thirty years, I was hired several times just on the basis of someone in the business knowing who I am as a person, and how good I am at what I do. I would say that 80% of the jobs I've held, or clients I've had reached out to me, not the other way around. I worked my butt off, and did so with integrity, and love (it is children after all) and respect. I am proud to be known as "Teacher Joanie" or "Miss Joanie" in later years. I have never behaved privately in a way that would reflect poorly on that. Character matters.

I have had a lot of frustrations throughout life, because I hold myself to a high standard, and I just automatically assume the folks around me do too.  Yep. Nope. I'm not talking about working yourself into the ground.  I'm talking about honesty, respect, responsibility, kindness, and work ethic. I don't feel like it's a stretch to expect to hold the President of the United States to a higher standard than I hold for myself, or at least the same standard I hold for myself.  Cheese and crackers, I'd settle for half at this point.

One more side note before I move on with my day. The Obama laugh and smile at the funeral yesterday.  Much is being made of it, and I just want to explain something.

In my opinion, Barak Obama (and Michelle for that matter) hold themselves to a high standard. I appreciated that during his Presidency. He is someone I could disagree with at times, but I could always respect.  When I tuned in to President Carter's funeral and saw where he was seated, I thought, "Ope! You drew the short straw." Then I realized they were seated in order, but you know, who else could you have put there? 

Have you ever been stuck in a situation like that?  Let's say at a staff meeting, where the last chair is next to someone you absolutely cannot stand. There are two types of people in this world, those of us who have been raised with a sense of decency, and those who have not. Of course, Obama would not turn away from a comment from someone seated next to him.  I wouldn't either.  That smile, and head nod..... oh, I know it.  More than likely "how in the hell did I get stuck here" was running through his mind at some point, but he wasn't raised to be an ass.  Kamala walking right up to "The Current Situation" at the debate and forcing a handshake, I get that too. The weak man refusing to shake her hand last week at his wife's swearing in? I see you.  

CHARACTER MATTERS

A Skating We Go! Part 2: Sleuthing

 This is what I have been able to find out about the history of the "St. Anthony "ice rink.  I'm calling it that, because I have no idea what it was called back in the day.  Hopefully someone who reads this will chime in. " Allouez" rink doesn't fit if the Franklin rink also existed at that time. 

In 1957 St. Anthony church relocated across the street, to its current spot in the Allouez neighborhood of Superior, Wisconsin.  It is the large building on the left-hand side of the picture in my previous blog.  According to several sources, up until that time there was an ice rink located on that property during the winter months. One neighbor from back in the day recalled that firetrucks were used to fill the rink, so at that time, in that location, the rink was a city endeavor. 

My Grandparents lived down the block, and the rink re-located next door to them.  The land was privately owned by the DeMol family. My first source could not remember how that rink was flooded.  So maybe when the church relocated, the original city run rink closed and moved five blocks down to what became known as the Franklin rink.  That would mean the St. Anthony rink became a private neighborhood venture. 

I spoke with another family friend, who still lives in the neighborhood, and it was confirmed that Dad did play music for the skaters, at least during the holidays. She also said that he did a really nice job decorating the outside of the house. (Something he never did in my day.) Talking with my Aunt Pat, we had a good laugh about the "guys putting speakers on their house". That would have happened before she met Uncle Bill, but she remembered skating at the rink with him when they were "going together" in 1960.  She didn't remember any music playing while they skated. More than likely my dad was working for the railroad by then, and didn't have the time to do that anymore, or the harsh winters took a toll on the speakers.

I've had fun picking the brains of friends and family, and while no one remembers much, I don't really think there was much to remember, as far as rinks go.  There was no warming shack, just a flooded spot on the ground, and a lot of fun!

I know that the rink was still in existence in 1968.  That's when my best friend's family moved into the neighborhood, although she hadn't arrived yet.  Her older sister saw my previous post, and commented on Facebook that she remembered the rink, and how exciting it was to walk down (in her skates) to skate at a rink that was close by!  She confirmed there was no shack to warm up in, but "we didn't care, it was just two blocks back home". In her memory, "someone from the neighborhood" took care of the rink. That's as close as I've gotten to figuring out if Grandpa ran it.

I know that by winter 1973-1974 the rink was no longer there.  I would have been four years old, and I have memories from that time. I don't think I was allowed run of the neighborhood yet, but soon.  Heck, I walked six blocks to kindergarten with my friends that following fall. If I had known it was there, I definitely would have schemed to go to the rink. At the very least I would have watched it from my fenced in back yard, or bedroom window! I would remember that.

My Grandpa passed away in October 1972, shortly after I turned three.  Maybe that's when the rink ended, because there was no one local who wanted to look after it? I wonder if it was, in fact, on this rink where I learned to skate when I was two. Grandpa might have even been there to watch my dad teach me.  I have heard that we were great pals, but I was young, and I only have a very vague memory of him laughing. 

So that's what I know.  I'll continue the story of how this all weaves its way through my own life, but I do intend to visit the historical society at some point to see what information they might have. I should also probably throw a few questions out to the Facebook neighborhood group where I originally saw information years ago. Engaging with strangers isn't super comfortable for me, so...... yeah, I'll get there. Nothing ventured, and all that jazz. I'm nosy, so that will eventually be my motivation. :) 

Thanks to the neighbors who have helped me this far!  J

A Skating We Go Part1: The Begining

 I have been attempting to write the story of New Years ice skating in the Meys household, and the can of worms it has opened in my memory, and my general psyche is astounding. I think about it constantly, and I've written a huge blog. I feel this tale has turned into more of a short story, or a book chapter, but after consulting with my editor (Preston) I've decided to bust it up into a few shorter blogs.  

The best part about this journey has been talking over these times with family and close friends, to see what they remember.  As good as my memory is, I have the gaps that come with age and time, and there's part of the story that I flat out don't know, so I will go to the last standing matriarch of the family, my late Uncle Bill's wife, Aunt Pat, to see what she knows on the subject of ice rinks and our family.   

What I already know, is that ice skating was a big deal in our family.  My Grandpa (Dad's dad) was the first ice rink attendant for the city of Superior, Wisconsin. He worked many jobs for the city, and was also instrumental in forming a union, but at some point, this happened. Now, in my mind this rink that he managed was the one I grew up skating on, located about five blocks away from our family home. My grandpa built that house in 1957, then my dad later bought it, and my brother currently owns it. It is possible, however, that the rink he worked at was right next to the house, because it turns out that in the late fifties, and/or early sixties, there was a rink right there. 

I was reading a post on a neighborhood Facebook group a few years back, and they were talking about the local rink from back in the day.  I just assumed it was in the current spot, where it has been since the 1970's, until someone who lived across the street from our family home chimed in with an anecdote about "the guys who lived next to the rink hooked up speakers on the outside of their house and played music for us to skate to". Well, even if I hadn't known that her family owned the house across the street from my family, I would have known who did that!  My Uncle Bill was a radio man from the get-go. I don't believe he was ever a DJ, but he physically set up and worked for most of the stations in the area throughout his career.  My dad loved music almost as much, and we donated his giant collection of albums to a local radio station when he passed away in 1992.  We lost my uncle just this past year, he for sure had all the answers I'm looking for.  Isn't that the way of it?  

The arrow in this picture shows our family home, and the circle is where the rink would have been located.  My folks bought the house in 1968, and Grandpa and Grandma built a smaller one right next door. Maybe that's when the rink moved to its current location? Maybe there were two? Doesn't matter, just one of those things you wonder about. Did Grandpa work that rink as a paid job?  Or did the three of them create this rink for the neighborhood? Aunt Pat and I have a lot to talk about at coffee tomorrow!  

Intention vs. Resolution

Like everyone else, I have made my fair share of resolutions for the incoming new years of my life. That all stopped, maybe ten years ago? It could be longer. What's the point? I'm not going to do it anyway. I'm so stubborn that I won't even listen to myself..... 

A few years back I started celebrating the winter solstice. I'm mildly into that kind of thing, I think the rituals are cool.  I would consider myself a spiritual person, who is (or tries to be) in tune with nature, so it fits. On the evening of December 21st, when we burn the Yule log, it is a time to set your intentions for the coming year. So, same thing right? Actually, no. Intention holds a more powerful meaning, to me anyway. When I write my intention(s)on a piece of paper for the coming year, they are things I am firm on doing. I couldn't tell you what I wrote in 2023, but my life has taken a big swing, so the follow through worked. 

I will probably never forget what I wrote this year, but I'm not telling. I talked over the incident with my "Guru" Preston, (my nephew) and he said to keep it between me and the Universe. This is what happened.  Picture it, Northern Wisconsin, 2024......

We had just returned home from Christmas with The BEM's family. He wanted to move the small firepit to the front yard for the winter season and set about doing that. I made sure he didn't forget the Yule log I had picked out, and I went in to feed the cats and write my intentions. I wrote three very unrelated things on the paper, then I shook some cinnamon (for prosperity) and nutmeg (protection) on it, folded it up, and headed outside. 

The Brown Eyed Man had the fire set up, and I popped the lighter out of my pocket, and got her going.  There wasn't much of a wind, so it was pretty easy. Once the fire was started, I tucked my little paper into the middle and sat down on my chair on the porch of the shed, to visualize my intentions while watching the fire creep closer to them. The fire reached its peak, and the little paper burned quickly. I kid you not, and I have a witness, the minute it burned up the entire fire went out. Boom. Just like that. There was no wind. 

The Brown Eyed Man and I both kind of jumped with a start. He said, "What the...?" and I asked if he had ever seen a fire do that before. His answer was no, and I haven't either. Bonfires normally go out in more of a gradual way, and you can tell when you need to move to add fuel to the flame to keep it alive.  I sat there staring for a moment or two, and then I said, "Accepted? Denied? Get your affairs in order???"

Later that night I told Preston what happened, and his take on it, was that something accepted my intentions and shut it down firmly before anything could be added or changed. We also agreed it was best to keep what I wrote between me, and the universe. He didn't even want me to tell him.

So tonight, I make no New Years resolutions, because I already have shifted a few things, and I INTEND to keep it that way. 

If you make resolutions tonight, or you don't, I wish you a very Happy New Year.  Please know that no matter what, you are enough, as you are, right now in this moment! Good-bye 2024, thank you for the lessons learned.

Cocoa and Memories

 Christmas this year has been going on since before the last of the Thanksgiving leftovers were eaten.  Turkey day was late on the calendar, and our first get together was early.  I eagerly popped the little tree up, in the hopes that this year our cat, Gracie (2) would let it stay that way. (she has) I had crocheted the most amazing giant rubber duck for the youngest guest, and I was so excited to give it to her! I also made a red and white scarf for it. 

Our friends, and also neighbors down the road, have become like family to us.  Their youngest sometimes slips and call me Grandma, and the oldest calls me Auntie on the regular, which is certainly fine with me. The kids come over to play from time to time, and their dad is like a son to the Brown Eyed Man.  If you saw them together, you would think he WAS the Brown Eyed Man Jr. Their Mom is very crafty, and likes to read, so we are never at a loss for things to talk about!  

This year there were some homemade cocoas included in the gift they gave us! The other night I tried White Chocolate, and I thanked Steph again, telling her how good it was, and that it was my favorite hot chocolate ever, even though I hadn't tried the others yet. Yesterday afternoon felt like a good time for a hot cocoa break, and I decided to give the plain old chocolate a try.  When I opened it, it smelled like the cocoa frosting my Grandma Meys used to make. MMMMmmmm I was eager to try the cocoa.  When I did, I got the surprise of my life.  It was identical to the hot chocolate my dad used to make for us, on the stove, when we were kids.  Nothing I've had since that time has matched it.  Nothing.  I was instantly transported back to my parents' pumpkin orange kitchen, with the avocado green appliances.  It was 1970 something, and we had just all returned from the local outdoor ice-skating rink. The three of us, (Davy, number 4, would have been small in this memory.) plus friends were crammed at the table, talking and laughing, waiting for Dad to finish up the hot chocolate he had made for us. 

It's something how a smell, sound, or a taste, can bring us right back to our childhood.  I've worked really hard over the years to create fun memories for the kids in my life, blood related, or not. Cocoa costs almost nothing, but those kiddo's who coming running through here in the summertime always ask for it, until I remind them there are popsicles (freezies) in the fridge. I never thought about it, until this very moment.  When I think about traditions, and making memories, I always give my Mom the credit for instilling that in me and making our holidays so much fun. Dad was there too though, on the outskirts of it for sure, and I always think of him on the 4th, because he really loved setting off fireworks, and finding the best spot to watch the big ones.  I had forgotten about he cocoa and the skating.  That, my friends, is a New Years memory.  Stay tuned, and Steph, thanks for the cocoa!