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Donna Kelley (Velazquez)

Mark, thanks for sharing your moving tribute to your father.  It made me think of many of my own father's stories and I imagine that your song has made many stories ring in our heads today. It could be Charlie's Stories, Steve's Stories.....    

Jim, another beautiful photo of our dear Walhalla.  It deserves to make the cut to be enjoyed by many.

James Hamilton, M. D.

Donna,

Thanks, we'll have to see what the judges decide!

For those of you out there who have beautiful flowers to photograph, here is what I saw this morning when I walked out to get the newspaper. It wasn't there yet. I wonder why. I saw no bears. I think they went back to their dens to hibernate a little longer.

I should have gone back to bed. I ended up shovelling wet snow.

Jim

Timothy Lavelle

Jim,

I feel bad for you. Over here the flowers are blooming wildly, the Robins are back, two Blue Jays with Westside Story haircuts have begun strutting on the deck railing like previous years. A local underground band, called The Moles, are also making their appearance. I wonder if The Bears would be worse than The Moles? Yeah, I'll stick with tiny rodents over Yogi n pals. 

Remember to bend your knees and lift with your legs. 

James Hamilton, M. D.

David Mitchell

Snow?

Is that some sort of airborne pine pollen layering the ground?

Does it stik to your windshield and gum up the wipers?

Does it form a green scum on the surface of puddles and ponds?

Does it cause a reaction in the sinuses?

Michael McLeod

Michael McLeod

Oops I meant to explain that weird photo above.

This is a teaser and a reminder that I have not forgotten my promise to illustrate my adventures in Florida landscaping. Both that vine-like plant climbing up the palm tree near my swimming pool and the weird cactus-like potted plant beneath it are varieties of night-blooming cereus. They are homely by day and glorious by night -- briefly. The blooms are starlit and stealthy, exotic and fragrant and romantic and fleeting, crumpling in the first rays of dawn like Cinderella's pumpkin-turned-coach-turned pumpkin again.

These plants are quite the phenomenon down here, a longstanding old south tradition I have embraced. There is even a facebook page with a list of places you can go -- private homes and parks - to see them during blooming season. One big oak tree in particular that is on a street corner in an old neighborhood close to me is wrapped in a vine from trunk to crown. Hundreds of blooms overtake it for about a two week period. It's a fairyland sight, looking like something one of the theme parks down here in Orlando spent zilliions to conjure up. But it's just mother nature kicking ass.

If you look closely at the potted plant in the photo you can see little white fuzz-balls on the vines. Those turn into moonlit blooms. Soon, now.

I'll post pictures when the time comes.

Jim: our time zones and our homefront scenery, much like our political views, reflect a yawning divide, eh wot? I will say, however - I like Trump's China strategy. You asked for one of us liberal snowflakes to say something nice about him. Well there you go. 

David Mitchell

Boy howdy!

Ya give these English Majors a inch and they go off on ya for a mile. 

Ya could'a jist said sumpin' like, "See these here pritty plants? They are growing in my back yard". But nooo. Ya gotta give chapter and verse. I'm suprizzed ya didn't give the latin names. 

(And notice how causally he slips in that he has a pool - and by contrast - "the rest of us don't!")

David Mitchell

Jim,

A foot down in Colorado Springs? And 6 inches in Denver? Wow?

Is Arapaho Basin still open?

Michael McLeod

As I recall, Dave, you rather enjoyed scarfing down a proffered poolside pizza during your Florida swing. 

And this.....this is the thanks I get?

I just wish I could find a nun to give you a proper lecture.

David Mitchell

Okay, okay Mike, you got me buddy.

But listen, I still have a piece of that pizza that you let me take home in my fridge if you want it back. That's only been about 7 months. I think I can scrape off most of those tiny little things crawling around inside the cellophane bag that I wrapped it in. 

David Mitchell

Here's a little video that Tim and Jim and I have been putting together for a quiet spell on the Forum. We shot it around Mike's back yard pool while he was going out to get pizza for the film crew.

Sorry, but we decided not to film this one with fireworks shooting out of her boobs (again). The insurance rates would have been sky high if we had. 

James Hamilton, M. D.

Lawrence Foster

Couple of things:

First:  Sister Antonio's brother John McGovern.  John did go to a high school in Prairie du Chien, WI -  Campion HS.  After graduating from Notre Dame he went to Chicago and was doing social work while working on his master's at DePaul Univ.  I visited with him a couple times in the early 1970s.  We went to a Cubs game one afternoon in August 1971 and saw Tom Seaver of the Mets shagging flies in the outfield before the game.  Seaver did not pitch in that game.  But in the 6th or 7th inning the Cubs sent up Ernie Banks as a pinch hitter.  He hit a home run off relief pitcher Tug McGraw.  It turned out to be the next to last home run Banks ever hit, #511.    Later John was in the Golden, Colorado area running a boy's home in his social work/counseling field.  He and his wife had 3 children.  I went to his father's funeral in the late 90's up in Delaware, Ohio.  We had a good visit.  Mary Ann (Sister Antonio) had left the convent and was married with children and it was a good reunion with her also.  His parents are buried within 50-75 yards of mine.  John's mother, Mildred, and my father were high school classmates at St. Mary's HS in Delaware.   I too have lost contact with him but who knows, maybe I'll start digging around. 

Second:  My daughter helped a friend operate this year's American Odyssey Relay (AOR) 200 mile relay run/race from Gettysburg, PA to Washington, DC  (https://americanodysseyrelay.com/#home).  Back in December when I was laid up from some foot surgery she was home and asked me if I could design some images that could be used as medals for the runners who complete the race.  The AOR uses an online royalty-free image of "Freddy the Flamingo" as their mascot.  So taking that image and looking at the route that would be run I did 5 pencil sketches of locations that the runners would go through.   The committee selected one of them for the t-shirt and one for the medal.   The images are of Freddy at the Fairview, PA covered bridge and crossing the Mason-Dixon line.  Below are the 2 sketches and then the final products that the computer graphics folks created.  I received these as a thank you from the committee.  There is no way I could ever run any part of that race.  I do get on an elliptical a couple times a week but that is all.

Michael McLeod

Dave: hang onto the pizza slice and bring it with you when you return as it can double as a surf board.

Jim: That "yukka" plant you mention - I have no idea what to call it - is not nearly as dangerous as some of the plants I have whose further reaches come to a fierce, hypodermic needle point and I mean a point that can puncture you if you so much as look at them crosseyed. 

Always interesting to me that the principles of evolution are in play just as surely among plants as they are in the animal kingdom

Timothy Lavelle

Larry,

GREAT job man. Great job! Proud of your talent and efforts.

David Mitchell

Larry,

This is uncanny! I went to bed last night thinking we haven't seen any 'Foster on the Forum' lately. Almost wrote that before I caved in.

Nice honor to be selected for the medal.

My memory of Sister Amotonio is getting clearer - what she looked like and that she was rather kind, soft spoken, and gentle. And rather tall.

BTW, I grew up a Cubs fan solely because of Ernie ('Mr. Cub') Banks - my all-time favorite player. I believe his roomate in the "Negro Leagues" (with the Kansa City Monarchs) was the famous Country Western singer, Country Charlie Pride. He was the first Black player ever signed by the Cubs. 

Back in 1969, when the Cubs had finally blown that huge lead over the Phillies and the Mets (the 'Miracle Mets'), I was in a Huey cockpit out over the Cambodian border, finishing a sortie and turning back for re-fueling. During short breaks we would sometimes sneak a momentary flip on our FM radio over to AFVN Radio (the armed forces station in Saigon) - with a DJ playing records, and so on.

At that moment we caught the sports news, and they were saying that the Cubs had late season swoon had finally mathematically eliminated from the Pennant race. Sounds silly, but I was so upset, I started to cry a little and pulled my helmet visor down so my co-pilot could not see that I was crying. I never forgave the Wrigley family for not being able - with all their money -  to "buy" Ernie one single Pennant in his career, which spanned about 17 seasons. And even more upsetting, they only paid him a grand total of about $400,000 over his entire carreer!

p.s. I think he played for the Harlem Globetrotters for one season while he was in the Army. 

James Hamilton, M. D.

Larry,

Congratulations! What an honor to have your artwork on a T-shirt and a medal for so many to wear and see. You have talent!

Dave,

You asked about A-Basin. I am not a skier, but on the news last night it was reported that Arapahoe and Breckenridge ski areas will remain open until "at least" 9 June. The snow pack in the high country this year was about 147% of the average normal depth. And the spring snows are not yet over. Good for skiers and reservoirs! Bad for Trail Ridge Road which will not open this Memorial Day weekend.

Jim

Mark Schweickart

Larry – It must be very gratifying to see your sketches morph into t-shirt art and medallion art. Let me second, Tim's "Great job,man" comment.

Although, before letting Tim's compliments go to your head, please consider that there might be another, slightly more narcissistic reason Tim reacted the way he did to your drawing. I might be wrong, but it strikes me that your long, skinny-legged character with its big nose supporting hipper-than-thou sunglasses, and conveying a secret desire to stride through life as if he were a ballerina in toe-shoes reminds me of someone – our very own denizen of the deep Northwest, who, I am told, is considered by locals to be a premiere example of a "long-legged LaVelle" (except when said "long legs" gets discombobulatingly fractured in lawn-tractor accidents).

Timothy Lavelle

I've always hoped that someone who liked me...maybe even respected me...would someday come up to me and say, "You're smoking too much of that $hit." 

But since they never have...

Mark, You're smoking too much of that $hit!

Timothy Lavelle

O well, if every joke was a killer, everyone would be a clown...

Lawrence Foster

Tim, Dave, Jim, Mark, and those who sent me direct emails:  Thank you all for your kind words about the art work.  Like Mark noted I was really flattered when they accepted not one but two of the images for their runners.  My daughter said that they are considering using 2 of the other 3 for next year's run so it may happen again!

Now, Mark, the idea of a long-legged Lavelle really cracked me up.  I suppose that some mythological creature like that would be seen more often than Sasquatch.   You know, an idea for a short story just came to me.  What if there was a legendary creature called the long-legged Lavelle that seemed to haunt the dark areas of the Wahalla Run in Clintonville?  And back in 1962 the only way you could be sure of not being harmed by it when walking in the area after dark was to leave a six-pack of red-capped 3.2 cold beer bottles for it.  And what if a bunch of 8th grade girls and boys decided to go looking for it one summer night after leaving the Olympic Pool telling their parents they were spending the night at either Bob Berkemer's or Donna Kelly's house?   Hmmm.   

Dave for you:  Addition to the Ernie Banks story.    I looked up the data on the home run and it was not in August but rather on July 21, 1971.  Sorry for the error.  And now, the rest of the story...

The Cubs did not have lights to play any night games back then.  Also no alcohol was sold in the park.  You could not buy a beer.  But, and this is where it gets weird, you could bring in your own beer if it was not in a bottle or a can.  That is not easy to do.  One of John's roommates had bought quite a few cases of beer real cheap from a distributor going out of business.  Probably it was Weideman's Beer (sometimes known as eagle piss).  The guys would buy milk in plastic gallon containers which were becoming relatively more common and they saved the containers for this purpose.  So we very slowly each filled up two one gallon containers of beer.  We did it slow so as to get more beer and less of the head.   Around 11:30 that morning we were already pretty "wound up" and we each took our two gallons of beer and got on the El and went to Wrigley for the game.  I am sure that the other riders on the train recognized that were were medical students taking urine samples to the lab rather than just a bunch of drunk kids going to the ball game.    

Okay, I'll sign off for now.  

Michael McLeod

Not to lead us into choppy conversational waters, but I was darkly bemused, and not for the first time, when I saw this line in a news story about the Brits and realized it could just as easily apply to us. 

Its populace is poisonously divided, its two venerable parties are gravely damaged.

Mark Schweickart

Tim – It is because I love and respect you, especially for your sense of humor, that I thought you would enjoy my attempt to deliver a goofy take on Larry's drawings, even if it were done from well out of left field, and unfortuantley for you, at your expense. But as is the case for anyone who attempts to be funny, one has to be prepared to be heckled when the jokes don't land. Therefore, good sir, please know that I consider myself duly heckled. Point taken. (But you have to admit that Larry's ostrich does  appear to be striding on point like a ballerina, does it not?)

Michael McLeod

actually, mark, I think you have to be prepared to get heckled around here for no particular reason.

Hey saw a great documentary last night -- "the biggest little farm."

Incredible story, incredible filmmaking achievement.