We all make choices in life and sometimes they work out well and sometimes they don’t. Maybe it’s just me remembering the bad and not the good, but I’ve had a lifetime of picking bad lines at the grocery store or the bank. Today was no exception.

I went to the bank to deposit a check on the way to the fitness center. It was before the bank opened, but there were two lines open in the drive through. Each of them had two cars, so it was eenie-meenie-minie-moe and I picked the one on the left. I hadn’t been there for a minute when the canister came down the tube and I knew the first car was done. I chuckled, thinking my luck had changed. Not so. The person must have been talking on the phone about something really important because she didn’t reach out and get her receipt for over a minute. Once she did, she closed her window and sat there for over two minutes, either counting her money over and over, or finishing that all important telephone call about the cute thing her grandchild did.

Finally, she pulled her tank (a huge SUV) out and the guy ahead of me pulled up. He took forever getting to the correct spot, not wanting to tear off his rear view mirror (he was a foot from the safety post). Of course, when he rolled down his window, he couldn’t reach the canister, so he had to open his door, wedge himself halfway out, and pull it out of the chute. He filled it with his banking papers and sent it off. In the meantime, I was watching the woman next to him pull up, open her truck window and try to reach her canister. She couldn’t either, so she stepped out onto her running board (it was a huge four wheel drive truck and she was about 4′ 8″). I chuckled thinking that maybe my line wasn’t so bad after all.

The guy’s canister came down the chute and I put my Jeep into gear, ready to swoop in. Not so fast! He took the contents, sat there for a minute fooling around with something, and then put something back in the canister along with the pen he used to sign whatever he had forgotten to sign. Away it went and, after I said a few bad words (sorry Mom), I put my Jeep back into park. After a couple more minutes, his canister came back. He took his time opening his door for the third time, wedging himself out again and retrieving the contents. He sat there for a full minute filing all of his papers before he started to pull out. He got halfway out of the spot when a car pulled up at the window next to the bank. Apparently he thought there would be a major collision because he stopped and waited to see what the person was going to do. He was still in the spot where I wanted to be by about a foot. After he realized the car had pulled up to a teller window and wasn’t really “careening through the parking lot”, he pulled out.

It took me a 2 minutes and 45 seconds to pull up, put my check and deposit slip into the canister, send it on its way, get it back, put the deposit slip on the seat next to me and drive away. Of course, if everyone were perfect like me, I wouldn’t have anything to whine about.

Just (I Have Nothing Better To Do Anyway So I’m Chilling Out) Jack

Just a quick note to get these “Sunday e-mails” back on schedule. I wrote a short note during this last week about my return from Florida and my blood pressure’s back to normal…well, normal for me which is a little on the high side and these extra pounds don’t help. I weighed myself after a week of Mom’s cooking and I only gained a pound. I told the Trilander group that same thing yesterday and they thought I said eight pounds and wondered how could I possibly gain that much. Three evening meals of deep fried grouper and one of fried shrimp with french fries may have done the damage. Mom was good about letting me fix my own breakfast and lunch, so that and the exercise kept me in check.

I took Jean down to Team Active, the bike shop in Battle Creek, on Thursday to have some repairs done to her Trek. We spent a while looking at new bikes so one may be in her future. I bought her some socks and biking gloves for her 60th birthday (oops, I shouldn’t tell her age…please disregard the 60 part) and when I paid for them the clerk tried to talk her into joining their bike mileage club. Each week you record your bike miles either on the road or on a trainer, and you can earn discounts of up to 15%. Jean decided to wait to join, but may have had second thoughts, ‘cuz on the way to the car she said, “You know…we should join that mile high club…it sounds like fun”. By that time I was doing handsprings in the parking lot and giggling like a 20 year old. Apparently she didn’t know that “The Mile High Club” is for people who have had “intimate relations” in an airplane above 5,280 feet of altitude. She’s not a spring chicken anymore and I’m sure that’s not what she had in mind. We laughed all the way to the Urbandale corner.

Just (Excited For A Short Time) Jack

I’m back from a short trip to Florida and I’ve spent the day fixing things that are broken. Ever since the e-mail I sent a few weeks back about things here at the Walker household being “out of control”, Jean has been making me pay the price for my comments in subtle ways. In our bathroom we have separate sinks and “work areas” but share a single drawer between our domains. Jean has her toothpaste, lipstick and various other beauty items in one plastic box and I have my razor, toothpaste and other he-man supplies in another plastic box. Over the last couple of weeks I’ve found Jean’s hair thing-a-ma-jig, lipstick, and other stuff in my box. I have almost no hair, so the thing-a-ma-jig has absolutely no use to me and I haven’t gotten to the lipstick stage yet. I took those as not so subtle hints to lay-off the comments, so I’ve tried to be a good boy.

So, while I was in Florida, she tried to do something else to get my attention. I’m sure Jean, Becky and Judy sat around, drinking wine, trying to think of something that would really make me snap to attention and then it came to them…screw up his checkbook. So Jean called me yesterday in Florida (she could have waited but wanted to make me squirm knowing I couldn’t do anything about it) and told me that she went to the bank to have them make some counter checks since she was out and she needed some to pay bills. They “inadvertently” (yeah…right) used my account number. So she was writing checks to pay her bills but they were clearing my account. No problem I told her…just transfer the total amount of the checks from her account to mine to cover. The checks totaled 263.21 so she transferred 264.00!! Can you believe it…how in the world can I get that extra .79 into my checkbook?!

As if that wasn’t enough, she finally got around to ordering checks for her account (if she had done it on time she wouldn’t have had to have counter checks made, but let’s not go there) which she received while I was gone. Sounds great…except when I got home I had a package of checks in the mail that I didn’t order and a 26.95 charge for printing them. She blamed it on the bank, of course. Oh, well. It gives me something to do sitting up here in the cold watching it snow.

I did have a good time in Florida with Mom and Bobby Butane. We took a few trips down memory lane and visited some spots I hadn’t been to in 45 years. The weather was crappy by native Floridian standards, but nice compared to what we had up here. I had a relapse of my sinus crud so I didn’t feel that good all week, but recovered just in time to scarf down a huge strawberry shortcake at Parksdale Farms in Plant City for Uncle Fred’s birthday. He’s quite elderly (not much older than I am) but seems to be holding up well and it was good to have family together. Back on the diet tomorrow.

Just (Fixing The Accounting Nightmare) Jack

I’m tired of being tired, sick of being sick and crappy about feeling crappy (that last one didn’t make any sense). Anyway, I’ve had this annual sinus thing going for a while and I’m ready to feel better. I’ve always had a sinus problem and winters in Michigan are no help. That coupled with the inside, DRY AIR, that screws up your nasal passages, and I just don’t feel up to speed. I’m not really sick but I don’t feel much like doing anything. It’s perfect ‘cuz since we’re in Michigan in winter and the cottage and Green Street houses are rented, there’s nothing to do anyway. I guess I could go through all the boxes in the basement, see what’s in them, and put labels on the outside but that would be a little OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder…what makes wanting to be neat a disorder anyway?) even for me. I wonder what Eskimos do sitting in an igloo all winter with their whole families. No TV. No electricity. No running water. No bathroom. Maybe I don’t have it so bad.

I promised Jean I would paint the boys’ bedroom in the Green Street house before the renters came. Naturally I left it to the last minute and waited until it got cold and Jean had the heat turned down to 50 degrees. On the plus side, I didn’t sweat a lot. On the minus side, since we’ve been moving and storing lots of stuff, it gets easier to throw things out so I threw out my paint clothes. All I had left was a pair of old shorts, already splotched with paint, and my Hawaii Underpants Run T-shirt that I had been using at the lake as “yard work garb”. The neighbor saw me painting through the window and started laughing. It didn’t take me long to figure out why.

I grew up painting houses. When we would move from one parsonage to another, we would paint. We would paint the one we were leaving so the new minister would have a clean, attractive house to move into, and would paint the one we moved into ‘cuz the minister leaving there wouldn’t always know the colors we wanted so they didn’t leave it freshly painted. Mom and Dad had rental properties through the years and we would help paint them. The churches would sometimes need painting so we were free labor for that project.

In all those years of painting I didn’t remember painting with oil paint. I’m sure we did but it seemed like we always used water based paints. They were much easier to clean up and much easier for kids to use. In the Green Street bedroom, the trim was oil based and the walls were water based, so that’s the way I painted them. One slight mistake…I always carry a paint rag or paper towel to wipe off spots that go onto the glass when painting windows. I did the same this time and also used the paper towel to make sure I didn’t go over where the trim meets the wall. Inadvertently I touched my leg with that paper towel about a dozen times with fresh oil paint. I now have blue green spots all over my left shin. I didn’t notice until I was taking a shower and the paint wouldn’t wash off. After 7 days and 7 showers, it’s still there. Hopefully it will wear off before spring when I go out running and riding bike in shorts.

I’m anxious to brew another batch of beer but will have to wait for the weather to co-operate. I want to do a batch of Imperial Stout and Matt tells me it should age in the secondary for several months. If I brewed it in January, it might be ready for the second annual wine and beer tasting in December. I haven’t brewed at the condo and it isn’t set up the best, but it’s all I have. I may enlist the help of a couple of Trilanders to make it easier to set up, take down and clean in between steps. I still have to figure out how to run water through the wort cooling coils when I have only one hose bib and that’s in the back. Oh well, I’ll get it figured out. Hey!! Engineering that project is something I can do to pass the time.

Just (Coughing So Much I Wake Myself Up) Jack

I’ve written about the “chaos” that’s going on at the condo and it continues. It’s not the rowdy partying that you may expect. Nor is Jean the workout drill sergeant that many of you have come to know and love. True, when she’s at the fitness center or on a bike ride or on a run, she’s relentless, but even the energizer bunny needs some down time. You also know that I may be “ever so slightly” obsessive compulsive. I’m the first to admit it. But I’m willing to bet that most of you would be going crazy by now if you had to live in the conditions that I do.

First of all, it’s the garage parking. Jean parks on the left and I park on the right. You probably already know that if you’ve ever been at the condo. When you look at the garage wall on her side, it looks like a family of woodpeckers has moved in. There are pock marks all over the place! She claims it’s because she has to park too close to the garage wall so she can leave enough room for me to get in and out of my car. Well, this morning I went out to get in my car and I could barely fit between hers and mine, and with the bad weather and the salt all over everything, I’ve ruined more than one set of clothes. So, being the numbers geek that I am, I got out the tape measure. Sure, Jean was on her side of the center line, but there was 17 inches between the cars. You’ve all seen my butt and it probably is larger than 17 inches, so getting in the car was a struggle. I measured her side to the wall and it was 39 inches. She has enough room to do a handspring getting in and she still hits the wall with her car door? What am I to do?

Of course, that’s not all. We haven’t lived in a place with so many doors that get opened and closed every day since we’ve been married. The front closet where we keep our coats; the pantry door where we keep most of our food; the hallway closet where we keep the towels and linens. Jean swings them shut and walks away. Everyone knows from eighth grade science class that when there isn’t a vent for the air to escape, the door won’t close all the way. The air pushes against the door while it’s trying to equalize the pressure. It’s a good thing I’m retired and have the time to go around and close the doors behind her.

If you’re still not horrified, here’s the clincher. Jean spent quite a bit of time trying to find a wreath for the front of the house for the Christmas Season. She finally found one, decorated it with lights, and put it up on the front of the condo. Since there are two windows there, I assumed she would center it on the windows, which she did. A few days later we had some very windy days. One of the days she laughed and said “Look at how the wreath is blowing back and forth”. Now that the wind has stopped, the wreath is off center and she won’t fix it. We all know that when things are a little off center, the world is out of balance and that’s not a good thing. I’ve gone out and centered the wreath back up so bad things don’t happen. I took pictures of the mess, but they’re too gruesome to send over the internet.

And that’s why I drink!!

Just (Working To Keep My Sanity, Such As It Is) Jack

The First Annual Trilanders’ Beer and Wine Tasting Festival is history and I don’t think anyone had a hangover the next day except, maybe, Becky who was singing the Michigan State (Something) Song over and over near the end of the evening. Pat’s Cabernet/Merlot wine received rave reviews as did Sam’s Three Brothers Chardonnay. Many tried all four of the beer offerings and, although each had his or her favorite, I didn’t hear any complaints. Many watched the Ironman Hawaii World Championships from Kona, Hawaii and most watched the Trilanders 2007 CD which contained pictures of all of our 2007 races, parties and miscellaneous get togethers. The festivities started at around 4 (we told everyone 3 so they would be here by 4) and most left by 8:30. The early night was partially due to the weather and mostly because, since we train in moderation, we play in moderation too. Thanks to all who contributed to the evening which, between the beer, the wine, the Trilander CD, and the food, includes everyone who attended.

I wimped out again on yesterday’s run. There was ice all over the roads and I don’t have any “Yak Trax” so it wouldn’t have been smart for me to get out on the run. Through my 61 years I’ve probably pulled every muscle at least once and I see no reason to start all over again. They don’t heal like they used to. Of course, since I didn’t run, I cross-trained by inventorying and rearranging all my beer in the closet downstairs. Thanks to all who emptied bottles Saturday night. Now I have enough to bottle the Kolsch that’s been sitting in secondary fermentation for a month.

It’s days like yesterday and today, weather-wise, that make me second guess our decision to stay in Michigan for the winter. We’ve had strong winds for over a week and now we have just enough ice/snow to make running outside dicey. The Trilanders, being the troopers that they are, will still run every Sunday but may do the treadmill during the week when it’s really crappy out. Looking back on how bad the weather has been for some of our runs I wonder why we do it. For many of us, we know better, but it’s like climbing a mountain…you do it just so you know you can. Most of us are beyond trying to impress other people with our swimming, biking and running. For as good as we think we are, there is always someone better out there. We really do it for ourselves and/or so we can get together with a really great group of people who like to do the same things we do.

Enough sentimentality!! I know I’ve said this before, but this time I really mean it. I’m going to try to get rid of some of this extra weight. I thought it would be better training for my legs to haul all this lard around, but I think it’s having the opposite effect. If, on the off-chance, I actually do lose a few pounds it’s because I’m really trying. I’m not sick…I don’t look gaunt…I’m 5’10” tall so don’t tell me I’m too skinny until my body mass index (BMI) is in the “healthy” range. Don’t even tell me I’m looking better until I go from the “obese” to the “slightly overweight” range. If you don’t know where those points are, look it up on the internet. If you want a wake up call, figure out your own BMI. If I keep reading Laura Anderson’s nutrition column in The Reminder I may even start eating healthy too. OK! OK! Baby steps!

Just (I’m Hungry Just Talking About It) Jack

Maybe it’s that post-holiday letdown or maybe it’s that I’m nearly footballed out, but I’m bored. Before you call…no I’m not so bored that I’ll come over and rake your leaves or baby-sit your children and I’m not looking for a job. I guess, for the past few years, I’ve been in Florida by now and there’s plenty to do down there. The weather is good this time of year so I would normally be out biking by now. I haven’t been able to push myself to ride my trainer or attend a spinning class since May and I’m too much of a pansy to ride my bike in this weather. Maybe tomorrow’s the day I’ll get started!

I’m more than a little bored with television. I’m not into reality TV shows (they aren’t real, they’re choreographed and made to look like real-life) and the rest of the shows aren’t all that good. After overeating on Thanksgiving, I got up on Friday and went to the gym to lift weights. When I got home I made a sandwich out of leftovers (I’m bored with the leftovers too) and turned on one of the news channels. BREAKING NEWS…it’s a day after Thanksgiving and a whole bunch of women went shopping…let’s go there now and watch them. I turned to another channel and…BREAKING NEWS…it’s a day after Thanksgiving and a whole bunch of women went shopping…let’s go there now and watch them. Every channel had the same old story and, no, I don’t want to watch them fight over sale items. Don’t interview them…we all know it’s a madhouse…that’s why we’re not there.

I’m not going to go into my annual tirade about how commercial Christmas has gotten and how we’re losing the true meaning of the holidays. I guess I’ve come to the realization that nothing is going to change what other people do and I’m better off paying attention to what I do. Maybe this year I’ll make the gifts for everyone on my Christmas list. I know they’ll be touched since it’s from the heart, but it would probably be another gift no one knows what to do with. They’ll probably keep it hidden away in a closet until I visit, then bring it out until I leave. Luckily, during my recovery from the bike wreck, I don’t remember what gifts I got anyone so those can be tossed at any time. Maybe I forgot to get anyone anything that year.

I wonder why it takes a friend’s death to remind us how life can change in an instant and we should live every day like it’s our last.

Just (Still Not Losing Weight But Not Gaining Any Either) Jack

I guess it’s all in your state of mind. For many people, traveling to San Francisco is like going to the ends of the earth. Pat, last evening, was telling us about his older sister who has only left Michigan once or twice in her life, puts about 5,000 miles on her car in a year and has never driven on an interstate highway. Last week I was talking with my son, Matt, about his recent trip to Belgium and his upcoming trip to Taiwan to a friend’s wedding, followed by a side trip to Tokyo. At 60.9643835 years of age, I’ve been to Canada a few times, no farther than 50 miles from American soil, and one mile into Mexico (Tijuana), so I’m somewhere in between a home-body and a world traveler. My excuse is that there are 10 states I haven’t been to yet, so why leave the country until I’ve seen all fifty states first.

I had a great trip to San Francisco last week. Early in the trip Matt said that he read my last e-mail before I left and I made it sound like we had planned a five day fraternity party. As it turned out, we did have a couple of margaritas Thursday night, but Matt was driving so he hardly had any. As you all know by now, I’m hard of hearing in crowded rooms, so I didn’t hear what the four young girls at the next table actually said. One of them mouthed the words to Tonya “Is that your Dad? We’re really, really sorry!!”. I was laughing and getting a kick out of them being very embarrassed thinking that I did hear, and that made them more embarrassed than ever.

On Friday we did take a tour of Anchor Brewery, but it was mid-day so we took it easy on the samples. On Saturday, at the barrel aged beer festival in Hayward, we had a few 2 ounce samples over a five hour period, so that wasn’t a big drinking day either. On Sunday, when we hiked to a pub on Mount Tamalpais, we found it was closed for the weekend, so we hiked the rest of the trail (about an hour) back to the car. On Monday we did brew beer, but neither Matt nor I ever drink while we brew (it multiplies the chance for mistakes) so that was a pretty dry day also. Several people have asked me if I had a good time out there. Maybe it’s a cliché answer, but I said I could have been out there digging ditches, but as long as I was with Matt and Anna, it was great fun. Sara and Rocky will be here for Thanksgiving, so that will be nice too. I guess we’ll have to drive to Florida to see Robert, so that will help us get our “kid fix”.

We went to the Michigan State/Penn State football game with Pat and Vicki yesterday. It was cold (somewhere in the thirties) and it spit rain off and on throughout the day, but it was a good game so that made up for the conditions. Earlier I told you my age, so you would think after being on this earth that many years, I would have learned by now, but I didn’t. All the nutritionists talk about getting plenty of fiber in your diet and, even though I don’t look it, I’m trying to eat better. I like the breakfast cereal, Kashi Go Lean Crunch, and right on the front of the box it says it’s a high fiber food. Apparently my system isn’t used to that level of fiber and it created a copious amount of “unwanted air”. On the positive side, we were in an open air stadium, so I was able to relieve the pressure before I swelled up like a blimp and floated away. Lucky for everyone we were in the back row so there were no seats behind us. Unlucky for them, that’s where the police stood the entire game. Lucky for me “breaking wind” isn’t against the law.

I fought it as long as I could, but in the third quarter, I had to relieve myself. I hate going into public rest rooms and the ones at sporting events are the worst. On the plus side it was warm in there, but on the minus side it reeked of urine. As you may know from my e-mails, I’m not shy about bodily functions, but walking up to a urinal trough, shoulder to shoulder with six or seven other men, is not my “cup o’ tea”. I was able to avoid my foot touching the guys’ feet on either side of me and I did keep my eyes up and straight ahead. I was one of the 5% who actually washed their hands afterward and, while Jean got a cup of coffee, Vicki and I were discussing whether it was worse to be a man, have to go and have really cold hands, or sit on a toilet seat that hundreds of women have sat on before you. The jury’s still out.

Just (Not Doing Well On My Diet) Jack