Posts

Terry and Leslie Vice

My wife, Leslie, and I very fondly remember Jack. We met him before he became a deacon. He helped us enter the church in 2000. We could tell he was a Godly man. He walked with both of us as we journeyed through the RCIA process. Every Wednesday night for several months he was with us at St. Elizabeth’s, answering our questions and gently guiding us. From those moments forward, we called him a friend. May your fond memories help you through this difficult time. With deepest sympathy, Terry and Leslie Vice

Marie SantaCroce

Jack married my dearest friend Pat, therefore he become a dear friend too. Although miles have separated us for years, we have been as close as close can be. We have shared so many of life’s experiences: our weddings, the birth of our children, losing loved ones, fighting through illness and just the day to day happiness of talking, exchanging small meaningful gifts and being there for one another. Jack will forever be in our hearts. The world has lost a giant, Heaven has gained a Saint.

Virginia Rose Pesce Gilhooly

Jack has been my big brother for over 45 of my 52 years. He gave me many gifts over those years: he taught me to love sports – and especially the Yankees; when my dad died, he helped console the confused 10 yr old me; he helped me with algebra and geometry; he showed me the world of Apple Computers; he made me an aunt ( Jaclyn); he shared his mother with me (she introduced me to caponata!); and when I was devastated by Lyme disease, he helped me any way he could. Like any brother, he could also make me nuts, because he was not perfect, but he was perfectly Jack.

When Kevin and I announced our plans to marry in Key West on a schooner 15 years ago, he and Trish were the first to book their trip to join us. Fifteen years later when we announced our plans to renew our vows on a Norwegian cruise, he and Trish were again at our side. No hesitation. I could always depend on Jack and Patricia to have my back.

I wish Jack’s heart had been as strong as it was large.

Hondo

I’m walking home from Hondo,
Without a penny to my name,
Just trying to reach D’Hanis,
Before I pull up lame.

I sold my horse at auction
Threw the saddle in the deal.
Then, I sold my F250,
So I could buy my kids a meal.

I’m walking home from Hondo,
Just trying to bear the pain.
If you want to ease my walking, Lord,
Just send me down some rain.

Super Bowl Summary

Who knows? For the first time in history, I didn’t watch it. The cheaters Patriots won, apparently on a really stupid play call. If the play would have worked, it would have been a brilliant play call. So it goes.

This is the first Super Bowl in ages where I didn’t watch any of it on TV. I didn’t see the game, I didn’t see the commercials, I didn’t see Katy Perry. I did clean four or five hours worth of shows off the DVR with the Spousal Unit and the PsychoPuppies.

I don’t feel unfulfilled.

One of my friends complained that the US wastes an incredible amount of time on the game, and then confessed he would watch. That’s when I decided I didn’t really care. I don’t have any ties to the Seahawks and I hate the Patriots, so why waste the time?

I have a feeling it’s people like me that cause advertisers to leak their commercials on the Internet before the game.

To all those who are hung-over this morning, drunk with victory or defeat, did your lives actually change?Did the fact forty-five guys you don’t know ran into another forty-five guys over four or five hours really make you feel that much better today? How many people heard, “Hey, the Patriots won! Everybody gets a bonus!” (Other than the team.)

We waste a lot of time on sports. Sometimes, I choose not to waste time on sports, and I don’t feel I’ve missed that much. Yesterday was one of those times.

Now, can we start counting down to Spring Training?

Peace & Quiet

I’m beginning to think you can determine someone’s age by what noise level they consider “loud.” While I’m not out on my front porch, yelling at the neighbors’ kids to “turn that crap down” – yet – I have noticed that my world is pretty noisy, and I would like that changed. Now, I love concerts and live performance, and I can usually tolerate the performance art that is a good meeting at work, but there doesn’t seem to be a quiet place to escape any more.

It started with restaurants – now, we have been dining with my Mom and her hearing aids (or lack thereof some evenings) for a while, so maybe that’s when I started getting sensitized to it. Restaurants are loud. Many have live music every night of the week, which I’ve addressed before. Well, actually, I ranted about it before. Still, even places without music can be very noisy, and yes, I know many are actually designed that way so you get a sense of energy. However, if you’re trying to talk to someone who is hard of hearing, it makes conversation difficult, if not impossible. Of course, as a side benefit, you can be rude about them, and they will never know. Not that I would. Just sayin’.

So, we spend many nights going down the list of restaurants before we call Mom, so we can find a relatively quiet one. The reality is that there are none around us, even at Mom’s rather more extravagant price point. Even the pricey places tend to be crowded (probably full of people looking for quiet) and so, they are pretty noisy.

When we were on our Christmas cruise, I realized there is no such thing as a quiet bar on a ship. This was a revelation to me, I’m not sure why – I had just never noticed it before. Every bar has some sort of entertainment – a piano player, sing-alongs, games, something. It’s interesting to me that on a ship with eleven bars (and the larger ships have many more), there is not one bar that is a real traditional Irish (or British, in a pinch) pub – with small tables, quiet conversations, a decent pint. No loud music, no dueling pianos, no bingo. Maybe it’s just me. There really is no place other than your balcony to just sit quietly and reflect on how everything is going to be so much better when you return from vacation. Maybe the noise is designed to keep you from having those thoughts – since you are going to be disappointed when you return.

Sometimes, I do think it’s the crowd. I know on the ship, if you have a musician who will interact with the crowd, they are going to interact back. Much like a puppy barking until you pick him up, people are going to babble until he plays their request – even though they probably didn’t hear him play it the first time, because they were babbling. If I were as funny as some of those people think they are (after a couple of drinks), you would enjoy reading this blog a lot more.

The crowd also tends to make the music louder because they are trying to talk over the music. Perhaps, I’m not the only one looking for a place to have a conversation. However, then it’s an arms race – some talking over the music, then others talking over the people shushing you for talking over the music, and then the music itself. Just remember – the musician has a piano and a microphone. Either is a nuclear option in a noise race, and he’s trained to use both together. You’re not going to win. Go talk somewhere else.

Don’t get me wrong. I like music. I prefer music to hearing other people talking, unless it’s an interesting subject like divorce or bad relationships. I like most entertainment. I even like dining with my family, most of the time. I just would like a chance now and then to just have a drink and dinner with a quiet conversation. I’m still looking for the right place.

That must mean I’m getting old.

Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure there wasn’t any music in the restaurant in the retirement community that we visited with Mom. There may be a lesson there, somewhere.

Religion Blues

Jesus is my Savior,
Since no-one else applied.
Nuns taught me how He lived,
Priests told me how He died.

I used to read the Bible,
The Good Book, so they say.
I found it on a CD,
So, in my car, I’d pray.

I wonder if He watches me,
How I daily live my life.
I hope I make Him happy,
I don’t want to cause Him strife.

Someday, I will meet Him.
Maybe even meet his Dad.
I guess I’ll have to wait and see.
I’d better not be bad.

Gift Rappin’

I found my Christmas present.
It’s in a big old shiny box.
I hope that’s it’s a present,
And not just a pile of rocks.

All the other presents
Are underneath the tree.
Some my brother paid for,
And some he took for free.

I got my lover a Ferrari.
It’s shiny, new and red.
I hope she like car models,
Or we’ll never go to bed.

I got my wife a present,
A back scratcher for her itch.
I don’t know why I got it,
She’s usually a …

Hard person to shop for.

Peace Out!

Holidaze

The end of another year. Christmas. Hanukkah. Year-end close at the office. Budget deadlines for next year at the office. Family in town. Leaving for vacation.

Stress.

Wow. There is approximately 43% more crap going on right now that I can process.

I was promoted to manager this year. This is the major reason I haven’t posted in a while – I’ve been too busy trying to identify and put out fires. I got promoted just in time for all the budgeting and arguing for next year. What fun it is! I don’t understand the numbers yet, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have to defend them. It’s also the time of year that you get questions which demonstrate nobody is actually reading the contracts they are signing. This scares me. I read them and I correct the typos, because I assume my job is on the line. If that is a bad assumption, that is what is wrong with the company.

The other thing wrong with the company is that everyone expects 24×7 access to everyone else and instantaneous replies to requests, no matter how trivial – even though manager’s training specifically tells you not to do that. So, while on vacation, I’ll still be checking email at cruise line Internet prices. If my Internet bill is higher than my bar tab (again), it’s not a great vacation. It’s an office with sand and rum. At least there’s rum.

It’s funny – when I made the vacation plans, being out for two weeks was going to have very little consequence, since not much was going on in my old department at this time of year. Apparently, now the world will end prematurely if all my emails aren’t answered quickly and completely.

One of my goals before I die is to teach the people above me that not every problem is a severity one problem. This may be an impossible task.

My son is a PhD now. His family all came down for graduation, so the three grandkids are in residence. Every time my wife and I try to corral the two boys – even without watching their baby sister – I have more and more doubt on the sanity of people my age trying to have kids. We’re watching the kids because their parents are tired – and they’re in their twenties. There’s a reason old folks don’t have kids – kids are active and inquisitive and fearless. Sure, it sounds like good exercise, but a heart attack really doesn’t help you lose much weight, unless you count only getting fed what fits down a tube while you’re in the ICU.

At least we now know that nothing in our house or my Mom’s house is actually child-proof. Oops. On the other hand, I’ve virtually given up drinking Diet Dr Pepper at home, because I can’t get into the cabinet where the soda is kept. I guess I’ll have to get one of the grandkids to open it for me before they leave.

It’s sad that I have to stop and think if sending a “Merry Christmas” note to my team is going to offend anyone. It’s Christmas, whether you celebrate it or not. There are enough people who either are Christian or believe in the secular values of Christmas, that companies close for the day. It’s Christmas vacation whether you honor the day or not. It’s still vodka, even if you don’t drink. Call Christmas vacation what it is.

One more meeting to go.