Family Matters

“Be kind.  Do no  harm.  Take care of your family.  Don’t start wars.”  Kurt Vonnegut

Volume 47 of Steel Shavingsended with the above Vonnegut quote.  Now almost two years into the disastrous Trump administration, we need the Hoosier sage’s words of wisdom more than ever.  Trump wouldn’t know the first thing about kindness, means nothing but harm, has no respect for families save for those with Trump blood, and, like any bully, will wage war on any entity weaker than him.  Latest outrage: abrogating the nuclear arms limitation treaty and threatening to use military force against Honduran refugees.

“Family Matters” enjoyed an 8-year run on CBS beginning in 1989.  A “Perfect Strangers” spin-off, it centered around a gruff but lovable cop with an eccentric family and nerdy neighbor.  Most critics compared the sitcom unfavorably to “The Cosby Show,” but reruns are still a BET staple, while anything associated with predator Cosby is toxic.  I can’t recall ever watching “Family Matters.”  The kid on “Webster” adopted by Alex Karras’ character was my favorite African-American waif.

We celebrated Angie’s birthday at Craft House in Chesterton, our first time there.  The place was lively on a Friday evening at 6:30; in fact, at a nearby table, a woman shrieked with laughter every few minutes, annoying at first but palatable after two 16-ounce Yuegling lagers evidently brewed elsewhere.  Having a mini-brewery on-site seems like a can’t-miss endeavor. We shared several appetizers; I ordered a delicious bistro steak and salad.  At the condo for cake, we got in two Uno games won by Angie and James.

Mike and Jimbo; below, Toni, Mike, Max, Janet, Brenden

 

Saturday we drove south on I-65 (a death trap once winter begins) to Carmel for a pre-Thanksgiving dinner with the Bayers. For years this was an annual tradition, which we’ve tried to continue after Mike, Janet, and Shannon moved back to the Indianapolis area, close to daughter Kirsten and husband Ed Petras. With our burgeoning families, scheduling it around Thanksgiving got too complicated.  Toni contributed mussels and other appetizers. Phil took a case of Rolling Rock. Turkey and ham were on hand with all the trimmings, including turnips made to Michael’s liking and glazed cranberry slices – Janet and my preference over cranberry sauce. I saved room for slices of both Beth’s pies, lemon merengue and apple cranberry.

Keeping up a holiday tradition, we played charades. The five Bayer grandkids (two of Brenden’s, two of Kirsten’s, and Shannon’s 3-year-old Max) really got into it after some initial shyness. The lively conversation reminded me of evenings at the Bayers’ Miller house.  Years later, Mike Olszanski said he had thought of me as rather quiet, meeting me on those occasions.  I thought the same thing about him.  Truth was, it was hard to get a word in edgewise with so many competitors.  Phil gave rookie soccer coach Ed tips on drills; I reminisced with Michael about poker games with old lefties Fred Gabourey, Al Samter, Scotty Woods, and AFT union leader Charles Smith.  We talked about the 3-hour memorial service for USWA district director Eddie Sadlowski and how Mike Olszanski and I quoted Mike extensively in “Steelworkers Fight Back,” aSteel Shavingsissue about the 1977 USWA election.  One union leader kept asking, “Who is that guy Michael Bayer?”  Only an invaluable source on what went wrong during Eddie’s campaign for the USWA presidency.  Mike and Janet had spent several weeks in Ireland with his brother Joe Davidow and wife Janna, whom David and I had stayed with in Helsinki.  Janet got out the same album Joe had given me, “Different Moments,” featuring Joe playing his compositions on piano and saxophonist Seppo “Parioni” Paakkunainen.  The album artwork was by Maxwell Gordon, Mike’s uncle, who moved to Mexico in 1961 in the wake of a bitter divorce and for whom Shannon’s kid is evidently named.

"Wounded Angel" by Maxwell Gordon

After a night at Mike and Janet’s in nearby Fishers, we were back in Carmel for  breakfast. Kirsten had prepared a delicious egg dish.  Other contributions included quiche and Polish pastries purchased by Beth.  I saved room for the last remaining piece of Beth’s apple/cranberry pie.  Ed was off to a Colts game, which reminded me of past holiday touch football games.  I told Alissa about meeting Brother Blue’s widow, Ruth Hill, at the OHA conference in Montreal.  When she was just a kid, she was with them on a tour of a Native American museum; she doesn’t remember but does recall Halloweening that same afternoon as a tourist with a camera around her neck in downtown Santa Fe and scooting down a mesa on an Indian reservation faster than we could keep up with her – stories we’ve repeated many times to keep the memory alive. After playing the perfect hostess for 24 hours, Kirsten appeared to have a sore shoulder, so I gave her a five-minute rub, which she thanked me for. She’s like family, having lived with us part of her senior year after her parents moved to Vermont. There were parting hugs all around and vows to come back even earlier next year while the heated salt water pool was still open.

John Riggins Super Bowl ramble

Home for most of the Redskins victory over the hated Dallas Cowboys.  Announcers compared Skins running back Adrian Peterson, 33, to John Riggins, MVP at that ripe old age, and showed a clip of his memorable 43-yard TD run in Superbowl XVII. In the fourth quarter, Washington went up by 10 on a sack/fumble/TD and then barely held on, 20-17, when a false start penalty moved a Dallas last-ditch field goal try back 5 yards to Washington’s 38-yard-line.  At the last moment the ball veered to the left and bounced harmlessly off the goalpost. I called Dave afterwards to make sure he watched.  We both were once diehard Redskin fans, but the advent of Fantasy football has reduced his team loyalty.  One time, much to my shock, when he rooted for a Skins opponent on his Fantasy team to score a TD.

 Nathan Hare and Marvin X, 2017

In the Jeopardy category African-American History a question asked which university instituted, under Nathan Hare, the first Black Studies program.  Answer: San Francisco State in 1968.  IU Northwest launched its program shortly thereafter and offered courses before SFSU did. I knew Sweatt v. Painter, the Texas Law School “separate but equal” case but guessed Sojourner Truth instead of Harriet Tubman as the former slave who helped fugitives escape from her native Maryland.  

On the cover of “IU200: The Bicentennial Magazine” was a bison, IU’s mascot during the late 1960s, and inside Steve McShane’s article about various IUN mascots, including Indians, Blast, and Redhawks. University Archivist Stephen Towne wrote about IU during the Civil War.  In December 1860, when South Carolina voted to secede from the Union, someone placed a secession flag atop the University Building, prompting outraged residents to remove it, drag it through the streets, and burn it at the Court House Square. Two literary societies held boisterous debates on the merits of the war until President Cyrus Nutt insisted that topics be approved in advance.  Towne wrote: “Members of the literary societies raged in protest.  The Board of Trustees suspended students until they submitted.”

 James Dye, honorary degree ceremony, 2009

I called the office of former IU Trustee James Dye to apologize for the various snafus during his visit for our interview.  His son Jim answered and recognized my voice since his sister had taped the interview.  Claiming his dad had enjoyed himself immensely, he strongly suggested I call him at home. Eleven years my senior, Dye still has a keen mind and a quick wit.  We talked for a good half hour; he told me about a buffalo farm he ran during the 1990s. It was hurt by the failure of Ted Turner’s restaurant chain, Ted’s Montana Grill, specializing in bison, to take off.  Unlike cattle, Dye said, only a relatively small portion of a buffalo can be harvested for food, and hides are not profitable.  From what I could gather, the land Dye acquired for his farm turned out to be a good investment.  Dye told me he doesn’t feel his age until he looks in the mirror.  I told him about a 1957 dance party and talk I hosted for South Shore Arts and someone commenting that I seemed to go back in time mentally as the program went on.

Purdue Northwest grad student Jeff Swisher sought advice on his thesis topic, the 1959 Steel Strike and Its Effect on the City of Gary.”  He had read “Gary’s First Hundred years,” so I pulled out some Shavingsmagazines and Ron Cohen and my “Gary: A Pictorial History.”  He is hoping to show that the lengthy labor dispute had a profound effect on the city’s subsequent economic decline, whereas most studies trace that phenomenon to white flight. He has consulted census figures, school enrollment statistics, and plant labor force size. I suggested a few other sources and that he focus the narrative on the work stoppage itself and weigh the multitude of factors behind deindustrialization in a concluding chapter. A Hammond Gavit H.S. history teacher, Swisher is studying under Professor Saul Lerner, who is several years my senior.

Jimbo Jammers had the second most points in Fantasy football, but I lost to Phil, now with a record of 1-6, whose Denver defense earned him an unprecedented 34 points.  On Monday Night Football, I needed 20 points from my wide receiver Julio Jones.  He gained 110 yards but failed to score any TDs.

Antwon Rose

“Boys were shooting marbles in a sand hill in 1928, and a policeman drove up.  A youth broke and ran. There were no arguments or anything. The boy had not been in Gary long and naturally was afraid of policemen; and when he ran, the policeman shot him in the back.  I became a paid member of the NAACP that day.” Joseph Pitts

 Antwon Rose

In June of 2018, Antwon Rose, 17, was riding in a car pulled over by police in East Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.  While the driver was being handcuffed, Antwon fled on foot with arms raised to indicate he was unarmed.  A rookie officer who’d been sworn in hours before shot him three times, in the back, elbow, and side of the face.  Rose loved basketball and skating and played saxophone in the Woodland Hills High School jazz band.  In the funeral program was a poem Rose had written after a similar tragedy titled “I Am Not What You Think” and containing the refrain, “I am confused and afraid,”repeated three times.  Charging the shooter with criminal homicide, Allegheny County District Attorney Stephen Zappala said, “Antwon Rose did not do anything other than being in that vehicle. It’s an intentional act, and there’s no justification for it.  You do not shoot someone in the back if they are not a threat to you.” There have been so many similar incidents it is difficult to recall them all.  History keeps repeating itself.  The role racial stereotyping played in these situations varied from case to case. I won’t speculate on the state of mind of Antwon’s killer but doubt he was properly trained. Hopefully the remorse he claims he feels is as much about Antwon as himself.

 Anne Balay

In “Semi Queer: Inside the World of Gay, Trans, and Black Truck Drivers” Anne Balay wrote about two long haul truckers interviewed during a Black Lives Matter demonstration protesting the death of Antwon Rose that blocked Interstate 376 in western Pennsylvania near Pittsburgh, impeding their progress:

    A reporterinterviewed two drivers who left their trucks to talk to protestors, Gene and Robert, white, middle-aged men with beards and ball caps. The journalist seems surprised that these men support the protestors, even though inconvenienced by them.

    A woman trucker trapped in traffic would probably not get out. She would lock the doors, and run her seatbelt through the door handle for added security. She might feel forced to hide in the bunk with the curtain drawn, praying that her load was not tampered with.

    One of my narrators, who is Mexican and lesbian, was stuck in highway protests last year in Minneapolis. She was terrified. Lost income is real, since truckers are paid by the mile and sitting on the highway lowers their income and might even cost them their job. But the greater threat is violence, consistently more likely to be directed against a female, non-white, queer-presenting person. The casual way Gene and Robert walk around and talk to people, comfortable in the security provided by whiteness, beards, and down home accents is just not available to my narrators.

  Danger, vulnerability, and invisibility are ongoing aspects of blue-collar life.  My goal is to consider how these shape what feels possible, and what meaning is.  A transwoman alone in her truck looking out at a line of cops in riot gear might pray for invisibility and certainly not dangle herself in front of the cameras, the crowd or law enforcement.  Her thoughts about Antwon’s murder, and about race, fear, and justice would be shaped by that reality, as well as by her larger context, history, and attitudes. At this intersection feminism, anti-racism, and social justice are all moving targets.

I try not to think about our repulsive President, much less write about him.  Thankfully, there are the erudite musings of Ray Smock. In “Oh, Say Can You See” my good friend took Trump to task for his tawdry handling of John McCain’s passing:

    The Star-Spangled Banner was never used for lower, meaner, more self-serving purposes than earlier this week. The President took his long-standing personal feud with the late Senator John McCain to absurd and embarrassing depths. Donald Trump did not want the American flag on the roof of the White House lowered in honor of a distinguished American, a senator, a war hero, and twice a candidate for President of the United States. When the president discovered the flag had been lowered to half-staff as a matter of protocol and respect, he immediately ordered it back up again. Then, with mounting public pressure from all quarters, including veteran’s groups, the president reversed decision, lowered the flag again, and issued a statement honoring the senator.

    Is there anyone in America, regardless of party affiliation, who cannot see at the dawn’s early light that what the president did was so petty and small that it violated every aspect of human decency imaginable? Whatever differences the president may have had with Senator McCain, no matter how severe the personal animosity, there could be no excuse for the actions of the petulant child that occupies the White House.  The president used the American flag, a symbol that should unite us, not divide us, and turned it into a tool for his personal vendetta against one of our most distinguished citizens. He not only insulted Senator McCain and his family but all of us who respect the flag as a symbol of national unity. He denigrated Senator McCain on many occasions for being captured by the enemy. He said he didn’t like heroes who were captured. How can any citizen find a suitable excuse for this abasement of the American flag.

 Ray Smock at Byrd Center

Smock founded the Robert C. Byrd Center for Congressional History and Education, came to mind when I read a chapter in James A. Haught’s “Fascinating West Virginia” entitled “Robert C. Byrd’s Evolution.” Three times while Haught was editor, the Charleston Gazette, deservedly named Senator Byrd, a onetime KKK member but master politician who preached at churches and played the fiddle at campaign rallies, West Virginian of the Year. Haught wrote:  

  Haught reached hero status for me in 2002 when he became almost a lone-wolf voice against President Bush’s clamor to invade Iraq. While most of Congress timidly sat mute, Byrd showed great courage as he stood time after time to warn that the White House was dragging America into a senseless, unnecessary, harmful war. Some of us in the Gazette newsroom almost cheered as we read his bold attacks on the warmongers.

A native Mountaineers, Haught was born in 1932 on a horse-operated farm near a town without electricity or paved streets. He was one of 13 students in his high school graduating class. In 1959 Haught worked for a few months as a press aide to Senator Byrd. He wrote: “I only lasted seven months.  I got an ulcer, gained 30 pounds, and fled back to the Gazette’s wonderful chaos.”

Partners with duplicate bridge director Alan Yngve, we scored a lofty 62.5 percent, finishing second to Dottie Hart and Terry Bauer. After the first hand, Alan noted that I could have bid 1 No Trump instead of 2 Clubs (I had 5 of them and play a short Club) after I opened a Club and he responded 1 Heart. He rebid 2 No Trump and went down one, as I had the bare Ace, King of Diamonds and he held the Queen spot.  Had either of us had a third Diamond, the hand would have made. Knowing Alan, I recognized that he viewed it as a teachable moment rather than negative criticism.  Later, a skilled players hesitated, deciding whether to double our contract; Alan made the bid by finessing her Jack and, once the hand was over, told her to make such a decision during bidding so as not to hesitate.  Alan teaches bridge lessons, so I asked at what point he explained scoring (when they’re ready) and how to get them not to lead out Aces and Kings on defense. On his handout, he states that beginners make the mistake of leading their high cards, and you do not want to remain beginners.

On a return trip from New Orleans Carol and Gale Osgerby stopped at Wilstem Ranch in French Lick, summer home for elephants Maika, Lovey, and Lou. Barbara Walczak’s Bridge Newsletter reported that there were no ankle chains, bars or whips and that they enjoyed “Spa Time” (washing, soaping, rinsing, toenail painting) and a lecture on elephants.

 Dave Bigler

Opponent Dave Bigler brought up having been stuck at IUN during the blizzard of 1967.  He was working and taking 12 credit hours, making him eligible for a student deferment.  The following semester an instructor had such a heavy accent he couldn’t understand what he said.  His academic adviser said he could withdraw and take the class for free the following semester. A few weeks after Bigler did so, he was drafted, no longer a full-time student. He spent the next couple years in the air force, then worked at U.S. Steel for 20 years, finally completed his degree at IUN, and became a special ed. teacher.  From his self-confidence and sunny personality, I’m certain he was a good one. He’s been on the Hobart School Board for 15 years and is active in Little League baseball.

Michael and Janet Bayer

 Andrew Gillum

When Michael Bayer, living in the Indianapolis suburb of Fishers, heard that mutual friend Mike Olszanski and I regularly have lunch on Wednesdays with, he convinced wife Janet to visit us overnight, and the three of us dined at Ivy’s Bohemia House in Chesterton.  He informed me that Tallahassee mayor Andrew Gillum, endorsed by Bernie Sanders, upset Gwen Graham for the Democratic nomination for governor, while Trump acolyte Ron DeSantis was the Republican winner in the Florida primary.  DeSantis ran ads showing his daughter building a wall and called Gillum a monkey.  While Toni and the Bayers enjoyed an Indian dinner, I participated in the 8-team LANE League fantasy football draft.  With the first pick, I took Rams running back Todd Gurley.  Eagle Carson Wentz was my first quarterback choice, but since he is questionable for the season opener, Steelers’ QB Ben Roethlisberger is a pretty decent backup. I also selected Philadelphia’s defense/special teams and Superbowl hero Zach Ertz at tight end.  Nephew Bobby was out celebrating daughter Addie’s tenth birthday and was on auto-draft, meaning that the ESPN app selected the highest ranked players available each round but in 5 or 15 cases the players are listed as questionable or out for the first game.

Addie Lane (with Crosby) gets breakfast in bed on tenth birthday

Terry Kegebein

Another sign on autumn: week one of bowling.  I was worried about the back holding up but felt no pain during the three games and rolled a 443 series, just slightly below my average.  The Electrical Engineers took two games and series as Mel Nelson and new member Terry Kegebein both finished about 50 pins over average. It was good to see everyone. Delia’s uncles now make up two different teams, with a few new bowlers.  When I asked Larry Ramirez about it, he joked that he and Uncle Phil had a falling out. At Nature’s Door next day, I purchased magnesium oil for the back, the roll-on kind rather than spray so I can administer it myself.

 Tiana Sanchez

IUN Elementary Education major Tiana Mercedes Sanchez’s “Ides of March” journal focused on her work, love life, numerus pets, and gaming at grandma’s:

  Introduction:I am 19 and from South Haven, a little town between Portage and Valparaiso with gas stations, car dealerships, a school, churches, and two neighborhoods. My grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins all lived minutes away. I managed the boys football team.  I prepared the drinks, ice baths, did wrappings, took care of equipment, cleaned the field, recorded the games, and helped the coaches with game preparation. I took care of the guys so they trusted me and treated me like family.  I also managed the girls basketball team, was in National Honor Society, all duel-credit or advanced classes, and focused on getting into a good college.  Junior year I worked as a cashier; at the end of senior year I was a CNA at a nursing home.  A crazy animal lover, I have three dogs, three cats, and two fish.  Starting on Sunday, I’ll be a cashier at Noodles and Company in Valparaiso.  I’m in a two-and-a-half-year relationship with Alec. When not at school or working, I’m usually reading, drawing, with Alec, or at my grandma’s playing board games (like Clue) and card games (Speed, Rum, Canasta, Screw your Neighbor, Poker, Spoons).  My goal is to teach kindergarten. I started at Saint Mary’s of Notre Dame but it was so expensive.

  January 26:Classes started 20 days ago, and already I’ve had a breakdown. Sometimes it’s overwhelming, but not just school. Life. I’m taking 18 credit hours and work almost full time. I volunteered at a boys and girls club and worked the front desk, dealing with basketball schedules, preparing practice equipment, stocking concession stand, answering the phone, and dealing with paperwork or payments regarding memberships or club fees. There aren’t enough hours in the day or enough days of the week, sometimes, to get everything done. Everyone advises that I calm down and take a break, but when I blink, it’s like I’m behind in 4 classes. Maybe it’s just the timing or just the weather - or just college. 

  February 2:I finished my second week at Noodles and Company, my first job where I don’t feel nervous when bosses come around. Everyone is nice and helpful. I’m open to different tasks (cashier, busser, dishes, kitchen help, cleaning, closing) so it’s never boring. Shifts go by quickly. Today I had a short shift, 5 hours, and left in a good mood. My cousin Zack filled out an application at my suggestion; he dislikes his bosses at Menard’s. College can be traumatic enough, I’m thankful my job is stress free. 

  Feb. 9:It took forever to reach grandma’s because of the snow. Alec and I stopped at Meijer for ingredients (half and half, sugar, eggs, vanilla, lemon juice, ice) for my step-grandpa’s homemade ice cream. It is part of his legacy, passed on to us. We played Probe, similar to Wheel of Fortune, then ordered pizza from Santino’s because in all the excitement of making ice cream, everyone forgot about dinner. This morning the main roads were clear, but South Haven’s seem never to get plowed. Driving down highway 49, all I could think about was how pretty the trees looked. 

  Feb. 16:I’m at a loss for words about the mass murder at a Florida school.  My heart aches for the families of the 17 victims and for America. We’ve had 19 school shootings this year.  Why is nothing being done? Why aren’t there stricter gun rules?  

  March 2:Julie, my best friend since seventh grade, is away at college. Last weekend I went to Ball State and enjoyed her sorority sisters.  Tthere were two 21st birthday parties. Going away to school can be fun, but personally I like being home and love IUN.

  March 15:Spending the night with Alec was just what I needed to stop feeling depressed.  He held me, rubbed my back, whispered sweet words in my ear, and touched my promise ring that he gave me for Christmas until I fell asleep on his shoulder. We slept in until noon when interrupted by a loud thumping outside his door from his pup Chevy. We cuddled for about 30 minutes with me wrapped around him next to Chevy and him scrolling through Reddit (a social media site full of funny pictures and texts). His grandma took us out to a Chinese restaurant on Central in Portage. I ordered delicious Mandarin chicken with broccoli. I stole a few bites of Alec’s sweet and sour chicken. Then we took a 3-hour nap; because I’m on spring break, I can do that sort of thing. At Dari Dip I dropped off a job application. I need the money to pay bills. Alec got cake batter frozen yogurt (his favorite flavor) on a cone; My choice was chocolate banana ice cream in a cup. We got Chevy a pup cup of plain vanilla. We dropped Chevy off at home and picked up pain medicine from Meijer for my mom before going over to Grandma’s for game night. Grandpa gave me a bunch of old crew necks and t-shirts that he’d outgrown. I’m wearing his “United We Stand” crew neck right now. We played Sequence and Screw Your Neighbor – where you get a single card and can keep it or switch with the person on your left. We ended the night with Straws: everyone gets dealt a set number of cards and there is one with a camel in the middle. Players place numbered cards in turn until you get to 50, which breaks the camel’s back.  The offending player gets no points, everyone else gets the points in their hand. I finally got home around midnight and am in bed watching The Mummywith my three pups. 

  March 16:Exhausted from yesterday, I slept till 1 a.m. In bed with me were two cats - Nala and Jacob - sleeping on my left side and my dogs Shelby and Clark on the other.  Little Man was asleep on the floor. I got up feeling groggy, washed my nose ring, and ate a bowl of Special K Strawberry cereal. Then I folded clothes from the dryer and lay on a couch with Little Man in a blanket watching YouTube videos of makeup tutorials. At Noodles and Company, we were slammed with customers for four hours straight, and me the only cashier. One asked if lettuce was in a salad; I almost lost my mind. At closing time two customers wouldn’t leave for what seemed like forever, even when I locked the door. Around midnight I took home a Tai green curry pasta with shrimp and tofu, which was super spicy and yummy! When I pulled up to my house, my Sephora package was outside containing mascara, eyeshadow palette, face mask, primer, foundation, and perfume. It was exactly what I wanted to see after such a busy work day. I took a long shower to get the smell of tofu off me.  I work 12 hours tomorrow… sigh. 

  March 17:On my break I ate the BEST sandwich from Firehouse Subs - called Hook n’ Ladder.  We were busy all night long. A group came in at 9:55, five minutes before closing. When we finally locked the doors, there were nine bus tubs on the floor, a dining room of dishes, more in the kitchen, and dishes in a slit between salad stations. We cleaned up for two and a half hours. I got home around one a.m., showered, ate, took care of all my pets, watched The Mummy Returns, and got to sleep at 4 a.m. 

  March 18:I had two tetras fish, Cleo and Willy, but Willy died. Because they are schooling fish, they need companions, I need to get one tomorrow.  

Sharp Dressed

“Black shades, white gloves,

Lookin’ sharp, lookin’ for love.

They come runnin’ just as fast as they can

‘cause every girl crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man.”

         “Sharp Dressed Man,” ZZTop

Miranda's post: officially won "most over-dressed" 

For Phil, Robert Blaszkiewicz, and Jimmy Satkoski’s fiftieth birthday celebration, young women were dressed up to the nines while most guys opted for casual.  Our upstairs bathroom that afternoon smelled like a beauty salon, not that I’m complaining. Both Dave and I wore Helsinki t-shirts. It was perfect weather, and I spent much of the evening outside on the Shorewood clubhouse porch, where a nearby band played Jimmy Buffet and the Grateful Dead and fireworks periodically went off from several directions.  I talked to the Bayers about Dave and my Helsinki stay with Mike’s brother Joe and wife Jaana.  John English told me he was a high school exchange student in Tampere, Finland.  Two security guards observed teenagers playing cornhole and appeared to sniff their drinks to ascertain if they contained alcohol.  Dave and Jimmy Satkoski joked that had it been them at that age, the answer probably would have been yes. Dave welcomed them and by evening’s end they were eating birthday cake.

 Bayer family

Josh Leffingwell and Lane gang

Lisa and Fritz Teuscher with Phil

sharp dressed men; photos by Alissa Lane

Once karaoke got underway with Dave as m.c., things inside got lively, starting with Andrew English doing “Sweet Caroline.” Kirsten’s nine-year-old son Nick requested Imagine Dragons.  Miranda and Tori did a rousing Chainsmokers number that got everyone up dancing, and Dave persuaded former LINT bandmates Jimmy Satkoski and Hans Rees to harmonize on a couple REM songs.  Spotting Tom and Darcy Wade getting ready to leave, Dave put on ZZTop’s “Sharp Dressed Man” and Tom, Dave, Phil, and I did our by-now polished routine where we pretend to be playing guitars in sync.  A high point was Phil doing Clarence “Frogman” Henry’s “Ain’t Got No Home” and “My Chaw,” with lyrics he made up in high school to the tune of “My Guy.” His sisters dragged Anthony out onto the dance floor, but once there, he was a hit with the girls.  Afterwards, Toni brought home so much pizza that I’ll be having it for lunch all week and then some.  On Saturday I had made bacon and blueberry pancakes for our houseguests. On Sunday Toni cooked omelets.

Nephew Beamer and family drove in from Tremont, Maryland for the occasion, and at Chesterton’s European Market seven-year-old Nick observed a man make clever balloon creations. Beamer introduced us to the board game Gravwell, which we liked so much we played twice, with Phil winning each time.  Gravwell publisher Cryptozoic Entertainment provided this overview:

After being pulled through a black hole, four spaceships find themselves in a dimension with physics never before encountered and without fuel. By mining and collecting basic elements from the space dust and asteroids in the area, you can muster just enough thrust to move your ship. But in this bizarre dimension, gravity is not working like how you’ve been taught. Your ship will typically travel towards the nearest object… which is usually another ship… and those ships are moving. Sometimes forwards, and sometimes backwards. It’s a real mind—bender!

Cubs took 2 of 3 from Cincinnati to complete a 7-1 home stand.  In the rubber game, Jason Heywood, my favorite player, scored the lead run from first on a single by Javier Baez, something I hadn’t seen since a mad dash by Jose Cardenal during the 1970s.  Heywood had taken off for second on a hit and run and scampered home when the centerfielder took his time getting the ball back to the infield.

 Curtis Hill

Indiana lawmakers, led by Governor Eric Holcomb, are urging Republican attorney-general Curtis Hill to resign after four women accused the African American of groping them on March 15 while drunk at a party celebrating the conclusion of the legislative session.  He allegedly gave one a back rub, hugged another, slid his hand down one’s back under her clothes, and grabbed a fourth’s buttocks. The former Elkhart County prosecutor denies the accusations.  If reports of the egregious behavior are true, one wonders why colleagues did not intervene before things went so far.  Could it be because of his race?  In 2016 Hill garnered more votes than any office holder in Indiana history. Perhaps some Republicans viewed him as a threat and welcomed his comeuppance.

I dropped off my latest Steel Shavingsat Jackie Gipson’s house.  She was pleased to see Mayor Hatcher on the cover. Jackie had a house full, as her sister’s family and relatives from Atlanta were visiting.  I stumbled descending the porch steps, my right knee still weak from dancing to “Sharp dressed Man.”  I think Dave played a long version, and, of course, I stuck with it to the very end.

I invited Dave Serynek to be my book club guest and told him to arrive early if he wanted free bar food.  Gino’s did not disappoint, serving sausage with fried onions. A record crowd turned out to hear Rich Miroc talk about Chief Justice John Marshall.  I restricted my remarks to defending Jefferson for regarding Justice Samuel Chase as a threat to free speech and Aaron Burr as a scoundrel up to no good after killing Andrew Hamilton in a duel and heading west with several dozen armed filibusterers.  I introduced Dave to Roy Dominguez, Lorenzo Arredondo, and Brian and Connie Barnes; he enjoyed himself so much he added his name to Joy Anderson’s email address list.