Weekend Letter | Notes From Dad

Me & My Hemotoma

Posted on December 4, 2011 by Jon Long Sr

November 19, 2011

Good Morning,

Two weeks ago Friday, I was gently reminded that I’m getting older and my body isn’t quite what it used to be. Actually I have been aware of it for a while… little signs here and there. So nearly passing out while sitting at my computer was enough to get me to check in at the Banner Gateway Hospital ER down the road. Three hours later I’m released with a referral to a cardiologist.

The cardiologist (Dr. Nabil Dib) after reviewing the films and findings from the ER and some pokes and prods, it is decided that an angiogram is in order. I don’t know about anyone else, but punchering my femoral artery and shoving a catheter up there to my heart is something I am a bit apprehensive about. On the up side, it is the “gold standard” of testing and if there is something going on, then he/we will pretty much know the situation. If needed or appropriate he can use Angioplasty or place a stint in an artery that has blockage. That would be the best result as compared to bypass surgery. I suppose I will know more after the procedure. With my “Nitro” spray to carry with me all the time and two more prescription meds added to the growing list of “My live another day pills”), I am now acutely aware of every bump, thump and twinge my heart makes. Will I live long enough to make it to the procedure? Funny how the mind can play games with you at times like these.

I must admit that all during the Thanksgiving Holiday a possible negative outcome was on my mind. It was impossible for me not to think about it and unfortunately consumed much more mind share than it should have. In many ways I was more aware of family and the really important things in life. (Relationships) You see, I love Thanksgiving because it is a family holiday and a time to “give thanks” for the many good things we have been blessed with in our lives. Oh and yes…the food is not bad either since I love to eat.

As with so many things in life, it is the unknown that tends to be the worst. Not knowing what to expect, kind of like your first prom. Am I dressed right? Over dressed? Under dressed? Did I get the right kind of corsage? Is it too big or not big enough? Will I look like a dork in this tux? What will her parents think of me? I hope her dad isn’t into guns. So I’m pretty sure that the “unknown” is my greatest challenge right now.

Sure, there is risk with any procedure and along with risk one must consider a “Plan B”. After all S**t happens and we should not kid ourselves. “The best laid plans of mice and men…” and all that sort of thing. So it was prudent/necessary to update the ol’ “Living Will” and “Medical Power of Attorney”. After all, the last thing I want to be is a vegetable in a bed and the only way to make sure that does not happen is to have the “legal stuff” in order.

I’m pretty sure it is true of a lot of people, but it is at times like this, when one ponders their own mortality, I think of my family and where each member is in their own life. Are they happy in their relationships? What will their future look like? Have they chosen the right path? And…what will things be like if I’m not around? The kids are all grown (all over 30) and one would think, or at least would like to think, that they would have their “ducks in a row” by now, but as a parent and from that perspective, they are still my children, if by nothing more than a generation. So, then I question… did I do everything I could/should have to prepare them for the “world of reality” out there? Did I set the right example that will survive their years? I suppose only time will tell.

12/04/11 Sunday: Post Procedure

The procedure was Thursday and except for rather remarkable Hemotoma on my right arm from a vein that dodged the needle for the IV at the last microsecond and a slight limp to my gate for the next couple of days making me look 85, the casual observer would never know I had a Left and Right Heart Catheterization.

All in all, the procedure was relatively painless (good narcotics), with the hardest part having to lie still for two hours after to allow the wounds to seal up. Something about popping a leak in your femoral artery is not a good thing. It messes up the floor and blood is so hard clean up.

Not finding anything of significance with the Left Heart Catheterization, the doctor then did a Right Heart Catheterization. I appreciate the fact that he was thorough and professional. With a good result for a guy 66 years of age and a bit overweight, it looks like I am good to go for another 30k miles. He also took me off of some of the meds I was on, which could have been some of the problem. Go figure.

Now I can focus on that Stained Glass Window I wanted to make.

Love, Dad

To those at Mercy Gilbert Hospital Catheterization Lab that may read this, I wish to thank, Shannon, Terri, Tammy, Warren, Trixey, Jerry, James, Erica, Steve, Sunshine and Dr. Nabil Dib for the great care and attention. Last, but far from least, Jeanie my “Florence Nightingale” in times like these.

Posted in Health, Human Nature, Thoughts, Weekend Letter | 2 Comments

Sophie ~ 1 Year

Posted on October 16, 2011 by Jon Long Sr

Good Morning,

About a month ago and close to the time that granddaughter Sophie Alese Long celebrated her first birthday, I received this photo of her. Since then I have had it as my desktop, relegating the previous photo of Jeanie & I to the archives.

Besides having great composition, lighting and pose, I am taken in by the pensive look on Sophie’s face well beyond her years. I cannot help wondering what she could be thinking at the time the photo was taken. I do not remember anything of my first year and only with the help of photos can I place myself in the moment captured it those early years.

So, is it possible that she could be having such a deep thought as her expression implies to me and is she really seeing into her future with that distant gaze?

There is such an innocence I see in her perfect complexion and lack of lines on her face brought on by the challenges to her nature, still to be. Missing too, but hopefully to come are the “laugh lines” beside her eyes, which will reflect the joys in her life.

For me and for most parents, grandparents and the like, the face of a child, especially our own, brings hope to the world and through them we can envision the future beyond our mortal existence. They become the generations to carry on after we have met our just reward and are archived in the annals of the family tree.

What will Sophie’s world look like when she is my age some 65 years from now in 2076? With the advancements in technology and medicine, which now grow exponentially, she could be connected in ways we can only imagine and live well beyond “old age” as we see it today. Of course there are many other factors that come into play and life is not perfect, nor does it come with a guarantee of health and happiness.

So this leaves me with a wish and a purpose.

The wish… is that Sophie will have a life of freedom and that of she chooses. That she will have enough, yet not so much that she looses the appreciation of not having. That she has passion for the people and things she loves and is willing to take a chance on love. That she finds joy in the every day things and is awed by a sunset or the beauty of the ocean. That she has empathy for other humans of all races and even the smallest of living things. That she has dreams and some of the special ones become reality.
The purpose… is that as much as I can, I be there when she wants me to be. This as a vision of the past and a path to her roots and in turn I get to glimpse the future.

La Dolce Vita to you, dear Sophie.

Love, Dad

Posted in Childhood, Human Nature, Thoughts | Comments Off

Things of Life

Posted on September 18, 2011 by Jon Long Sr

Good Morning,

It was 66 years ago today on a Tuesday in Portland, Oregon that I first opened my eyes to this amazing new world. While my interests were more focused on instinctive things like mother’s milk and trying to deal with the freedoms, sights and sounds of this world of light and air outside of the womb, much more was going on around me, the comprehension of which, would take me many years to understand.

You see, World War II was coming to and end and Nazi Germany was being sliced and diced like so much cheese by the French, British, United States and the Soviets. About a month earlier Japan had succumb to the first use of “Weapons of Mass Destruction” by any nation, with the dropping of the atomic bombs, “Little Boy” on the city of Hiroshima and “Fat Man” on Nagasaki. Now General Douglas MacArthur was in Japan to enforce the “terms of surrender” and change the culture of Japan forever.

There was much jubilation as the war was coming to an end and many of the 8 million US Army troops would be coming home, spawning the “Baby Boomers” that just followed my “War Baby” generation. Ok…ok, so I wasn’t a “War Baby” in the true definition, but I was born during that time. We were the harbingers of the “Social Services Crisis” that is now being wrought by the numbers of “Baby Boomers” retiring.

Interesting that some in the Catholic Church found a way to blame abortion for the crisis of lowering the population contributing to the social money pool. Now I am not a economics professor, but I’m pretty sure that most of those births would have been to mothers without the normal “family” support (like participating fathers) and therefore would have ended up be a burden on society as well. But that is just my opinion, oh and that of John Donohue and Steve Levitt who proposed their hypothesis concerning unwanted pregnancies and how abortion has affected the crime rate in America. But, I wander… and besides, as expected, there are many rebuttals to their hypothesis as well.

As is typical, I have wandered off of my main theme here. Anyway, being born when I was and by the way, not only do I feel fortunate for being born, but also for the parents I had and the times in this world that I have been able to experience so many historical and personal events. There are so many I could name, but for just a few like, Television, Rock n’ Roll, Vietnam, Assignation of a President, First Marriage, Birth of a Daughter, Landing of a Man on the Moon, Birth of a Son, Second Marriage, Birth of Second Son, Move to Oregon, Death of Fathers, Birth of Grandson, Death of Mothers, Several Changes in Jobs, Birth of Grand Daughter, Move to Arizona, Business Ventures, Birth of Granddaughter, IPOD and so many others ad nauseam. I guess what I am saying is, that I have enjoyed being alive these 66 year and experiencing the “things of life” here on earth.
I am also grateful for the things I have, the close family and friends that have been the most important part of my life along the way and however long this road may be, I must say, it has been quite a trip.

So today, I celebrate these “things of life” and the blessings I have been given.

Love, Dad

Posted in Childhood, Observations, Religion, Thoughts, Weekend Letter | Comments Off

Foreign Nationals ~ 9-11

Posted on September 11, 2011 by Jon Long Sr

September 11, 2011

Good Morning ~ “9-11”

For several weeks now we have be inundated with recognition of the Terrorist Attacks that took place on September 11, 2001. Whether it was the comics, editorials, music, television programming or the abnormal abundance of American flags displayed. Understand, I am not complaining about any of it, for we should remember these things, because if we don’t, we will be destined to repeat them.

When Osama Bin Laden and his Islamic Extremists organization “Al Qaeda” attacked the United States, I wonder if there was any consideration as to just how many countries they actually attacked by virtue of citizens also killed from other countries. I seems that anytime an “American” is killed in another country, we hear about it. We care and at that time, it is not as if they were white, black, brown, red or any other color including purple, but only the fact that they were “Americans”.

This last week of remembrances, I have heard stories of husbands, wives, children and countless others who’s lives have been changed by the attacks. What I haven’t heard are stories of the people from other countries who were affected. Maybe it isn’t “newsworthy” in the U.S.A. to consider these other citizens who were lost that day.

Personally, I would like to know how the families and friends of the 66 people from The United Kingdom, or the 47 from the Dominican Republic, or the 41 people from India, or the 28 from South Korea, or the 24 from Japan and Canada, even the one-each from 17 different countries. I hope that we are not so self-centered that we have lost empathy for our friends in other countries. I still notice it each time the news reports an airline crash and it is reported, “there were 3 Americans on board”. What about the other 74 souls?

So, after recognizing the 2,669 U.S. Citizens killed, we should also recognize the 372 Foreign Nationals who were also murdered that day. Yes their names are etched with the other victims on the memorials, but precious little is mentioned of their lives.

Country	Total fatalities
Argentina	4
Australia	11
Bangladesh	6
Belarus	1
Belgium	1
Brazil	3
Canada	24
Chile	3
China	3
Côte d’Ivoire	1
Colombia	17
Democratic Republic of the Congo	2
Dominican Republic	47
El Salvador	2
Ecuador	3
Ethiopia	2
France	3
Germany	11
Ghana	2
Guyana	3
Haiti	2
Honduras	1
India	41
Indonesia	1
Ireland	6
Israel	5
Italy	10
Jamaica	16
Japan	24
Jordan	2
Lebanon	3
Lithuania	1
Malaysia	3
Mexico	16
Moldova	1
Netherlands	1
New Zealand	2
Nigeria	1
Peru	5
Philippines	16
Portugal	5
Poland	6
Romania	3
Russia	1
South Africa	2
South Korea	28
Spain	1
Sweden	1
Switzerland	2
Republic of China (Taiwan)	1
Trinidad and Tobago	14
Ukraine	1
Uzbekistan	1
United Kingdom	66
Bermuda	1
Venezuela	1

If just for a moment, think about those families as well and how having their loved ones murdered in this “land of the free” must have impacted them.

I think it is also important for us to remember that there were 31 innocent Muslims who were also murdered that day. The Muslim community has condemned the actions of the terrorist of 9-11, but our news media for some reason has failed to make an effort to get the word out. Because of the media’s intentional or unintentional incompetence in this matter, Muslims have been feared and persecuted in this country, which was founded on religious freedom and equality. There is even a petition started by Muslims to denounce the actions of terrorist in the name of Islam. It is called “Not in the name of Islam”. You didn’t know that? Well neither did I. Interesting that the petition was started in 2004. I believe the motivation came from the discrimination suffered by Muslims in this country after the attacks and based on the misconceptions of the faith.

Shades of what we did to Japanese-Americans after December 7, 1941. The quote “We only fear what we don’t understand” is alive and well in the U.S.A.

Question: Should we include the Flags of Foreign Victims in the “Remembrance Fields” or just keep it an American thing?

As we continue to heal from the events of 10 years ago today, let us remember the past, live for today and plan for a better tomorrow.

Love, Dad

Thanks to Wikipedia for the many links I used on this post.

Posted in Human Nature, Religion, Thoughts, Weekend Letter | 1 Comment

Thirty Five Years

Posted on August 28, 2011 by Jon Long Sr

August 28, 2011

Good Morning, “35 Years”

August 28, 1976

Thirty-Five Years is a long time to be married, especially when the average length of a first or second marriage in the United States is just about 7 years. Maybe it is something about the “Seven Year Itch”? Studies say we are attracted to one another through a chemical mix of Pheromones, Cortisol and Oxytocin released when we are in contact with someone. Makes sense to me, albeit not very romantic. Becoming satiated to these chemicals in your mate after seven years could explain why someone could easily be chemically attracted to another. Some even say the “Seven Year Itch” has now turned into the “Three-Year Glitch”. We are living in a “Fast Food” world where immediate gratification seems to dictate our expectations. Many a couple are avoiding the scenario all together and not even bothering to get married and possible ruin a good friendship.

The average expected maximum age in men these days is about 75 years. So, for close to half of my “expected life”, I have been married to Jeanie. The national median age in the United States is about 36 years. That means close to half of the people in the U.S. weren’t even born when we got married.

Thirty-Five Years is a long time to be married to the same person and with that comes the opportunity to experience life outside of yourself and with someone who knows you intimately. Opportunities to conquer, as they come up the inevitable adversities and challenges in the relationship. Opportunities to test the strength of the vows to one another that you both took so many years ago. Opportunities to achieve a level of trust unparalleled in most every other kind relationship.

No relationship, married or otherwise will/can be smooth all the time. If someone tells you otherwise, well I would consider him or her delusional. As time passes there is an “alphabet soup” of things faced and overcome. While I won’t go into details, I can pretty much say “you name it” and Jeanie and I probably went through it at one time or another.

It is a good idea to have a short memory of the bad things, but remembering just enough to not be destine to repeat them. You must overcome the negatives and build on the positives.

Elizabeth Gilbert put it well in Eat, Pray, Love when she said:

“As smoking is to the lungs, so is resentment to the soul; even one puff is bad for you.”

— Elizabeth Gilbert

I believe that marriage is much like a garden, you must keep the “weeds” out so that it does not become overrun and non-productive. The bounty of the marriage, much like that of the garden, depends on your dedication and vigilance.

Yes, thirty-five years is a long time to be married to someone, five times longer than the national average. I suppose the question could be asked, would I do it again. Why yes… yes I would, even knowing what I know now. For how else could I have gotten to where I am today and appreciating the loved ones, family and friends in my life.

So on this 28^th day of August 2011, I say to my wife of 35 years:

“I Jon, do once again, take you Jeanie, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, to love and to cherish, through sickness and in health, forsaking all others, until death do we part.”

“Happy Anniversary, Jeanie”,

Love, Jon

Posted in Love, Marriage, Relationships, Weekend Letter | Comments Off

August of My Years

Posted on August 14, 2011 by Jon Long Sr

August 14, 2011

Good Morning,

August… there is just no getting around it… I’m in the August of my life. Maybe it was turning the “Big 65” that triggered it, the SSI check in the mail each month and then there is scanning the menu for the “Senior” section and compensatory discount. Whatever it was, it has been on my mind.

How do I know it is August? I’ll be generous with the years and like “Five for Fighting” and their song “When you only have 100 years to live” will use that number. Say we divide the 100 by 12, one for each month of the year. We get 8.33 years per month. Take that times 8 for August and you end up with 66+ years. So…if I do live to be 100, the next eight years will be my August. Simple?

So now what do I do with August, for it will surely glide away into tomorrow as quickly as the months preceding and I will be staring at September wondering where it went as well.

I am starting to feel a slight urgency to put some things in order. To evaluate what is needed at this stage and what has passed. Will I ever really need a particular item? What are the real reasons for holding on to some things well past their usefulness in my lifestyle today?

My life was different in Oregon where I had a workshop (Man Cave) and I was surrounded by the things relevant. Maybe it is a need I have to hold on to the past a bit longer, thinking some of those times will come again. I know that when we are looking behind we cannot see ahead and ahead is where our life will be tomorrow. Thinking about the past also keeps us from today and being in the moment. I’m pretty sure that was a quote from someone, just have no idea who. To quote Willy Nelson, “Ain’t nothing I can do about it now”.

There are things I want to do in my August and I know I will have to move some debris in my life to make room for them:

I want to do stained glass again, as it was an expression of my inner-self to a medium that will live beyond my 100 years. Something in a Prairie Pattern sort of Frank Lloyd Wright style. This I have started, but need to devote more time.
I want to learn reloading so I can enjoy the accuracy it will provide when I target shoot. The satisfaction of being the best I can be with my 22-250. This may require a room added in the garage. No small task.
I want and need to organize the large amount of family genealogy information I have collected over the years so that others can benefit and easily pick up where I leave off. This just requires me to dig in and do it. Maybe even post it on the web as before. Sometimes that can be the hardest.
I want to have a “Trike” motorcycle. Either build one or buy one. That requires money which I’m not quite sure where it will come from.
I want to get rid of some stuff that is in the way. This will require resolve and somewhat of a paradigm shift in my mental state concerning possessions. Again no small task.
Last, but far for least, I want to lose some weight so I will see September.

My August, while I still have my health to do these things, is the time. The clock is running and I’m not getting any younger.

I better get at it.

Love, Dad

Posted in Thoughts, Weekend Letter | Comments Off

Practical Physics – Self Taught

Posted on July 3, 2011 by Jon Long Sr

Good Morning,

When I was a young man in my adolescence and well into my teens, maybe even a few years beyond, I self-studied Practical Physics. I never had the academic prowess to actually take Physics in school as that required more than I was either willing or capable.

No… my Physics Education came for the practical applications my friends Jan, Terry, Leon and I conjured up as a young boys living in rural Modesto, CA.

Here are a few of the Physics lessons we learned:

How big and how many nails it took to “reliably” attach a board to a tree so you could climb up to the tree fort. (Shear Factors & Leverage) Failure to use the proper size or quantity can result in the board coming loose and nails being impaled in your leg.
That nailing a bunch of boards together in the shape of an airplane does not guarantee that it will fly when you throw it from the hayloft of a barn. (Gravity & Aerodynamics) Albeit fun to watch it crash and come apart.
That giving your friend (Leon) a ride on your handlebars can be hazardous, especially when his boot gets caught in the spokes and you both go “tail over teakettle” with a face plant, Leon, me and the bike on top of us both. (Newton’s Law, A body in motion tends to stay in motion…) Bonus: I also learned how to replace spokes in a bike wheel.
That old steel roller skates, a 2×4 and a fruit crate can make a pretty cool scooter. (Friction & Energy) Hard to push, but more fun thanwalking.
That tying cans to a string across the road and then pulling it taunt when a car comes along can really upset some drivers. (Reaction Times & Consequences) Having an escape route is important and NEVER try this in front of your own house.
That throwing Green Walnuts against a stucco wall at school to watch them splatter is not something you want to do, especially if you are the ones that have to stay after school and scrub them off. (Kinetics of Impact & Natural Chemical Stains) Walnut Stains are difficult to remove from hands, clothing and especially stucco.
That making a sled out of a peach box with runners can be fun when pulling your friend through a muddy orchard. (Viscosity & Drag) Being hosed off by your mom after was fun too.
That sticking your finger in a light socket can be energizing. (Reaction Times & Properties of Electricity) Respect for that invisible energy source was also permanently burned into my brain.
That if you drop a glob of Mercury on the floor, it goes all over the place and it is very hard to gather back up. (Liquid Metals and Impacts) Note: When I was just 18, I bought a pound of mercury and empty gel capsules from the drug store. Try doing that today.
That playing with your Gilbert Chemistry Set on the middle of your bed can totally mess up your bedspread and ceiling when something explodes. (Heat Expansion & Chemical Stains again.) Note: Among other things, my set had Potassium Nitrate, Charcoal and Sulfur, the three main ingredients for Black Powder. They just don’t make them like they used to.
That unless you use a Dethermalizer on your hand-built model glider, it can and will get taken up and away in a thermal and you will possibly never see it again. (Aerodynamic & Thermals) Followed it for a mile before losing sight.
That using the point of a drafting compass to scrape Mercury Fulminate from the inside of .22 caliber casings can cause it to explode. (Finesse & Chemical Stability)
That using pie plate tin foil holds up much better than regular tinfoil when you make match head rockets. (Heat & Metal Melting Points)
That you should always work in small batches when using pliers to remove the phosphorus from a wooden match head. (Chain Reactions & Flash Points) My neighbor learned that one the hard way and lost his eyebrows, at least for a while.

That match heads work ok for the material in a pipe bomb, but FFFG Black Powder is much better. (Confinement of Explosive Chemicals and The Stresses they cause to certain metals) Note: Now being referred to as an I.E.D. (Improvised Explosive Device), and your parents don’t like it so much if you get caught making these things.
That even a ½” diameter X 6” pipe bomb can completely remove a mailbox from its post and send it 10 feet in the air. (Extreme Pressures in Confined Areas & Aerodynamics of a Mail Box) I discourage this kind of activity since it is a federal offense. Come to think of it, it probably was back in the 50s as well.
That levies make good bunkers from flying metal as they whistle by over your head. (Irregular Shapes of Metal and the Sounds they make at High Speed & Absorption Characteristics of soft dirt) This is where I learned to “Duck & Cover” and you though it was from those Nuclear Attack Drills in the 50s.
That a REAL M80 (3g +) weighted down and tossed in the irrigation canal can make fish swim upside down for a while and easy to catch. (Effects of Shock Waves in Water) Helped me understand Depth Charges and such. BTW, M80s were outlawed in the United States by modifications to the Child Protection Act in 1966. Something about kids losing hearing, fingers and hands. How’s a kid suppose to learn Physic these days. Go figure.

There actually were many more lessons in Physics that my friends and I experienced and many of these “experiments” were perfected with fine-tuning, repetition and diligence.

I suppose that today some of this stuff would hit National News, but at the time it was just boys and Practical Physics lessons self-taught. Things you will never learn sitting in front of a monitor playing video games.

Have a “Safe & Sane” 4^th of July and I will remember some that were… let’s say… not quite so sane.

Love, Dad

Credits:

Fruit Box Scooter Photos from Droolicous

Green Walnuts photo came from here

Gilbert Chemistry Set Photo from Joe Mabel

Pipe Bomb Photo from here

M80 Photo from here

Posted in Childhood, Fun Times, Weekend Letter | Comments Off

Blue Cast

Posted on June 26, 2011 by Jon Long Sr

Good Morning,

It is a pretty common statement that you don’t miss something till it is gone. The use of my left arm/hand these last few weeks brings that to light as I become a bit more dependent on others around me.

Three weeks ago Thursday last (June 2, 2011), while stepping down from a ladder I missed the last step. Funny how the mind works as I was wearing my reading glasses and forgot to take them off like I usually do, as I descended. I should know better, but well, I didn’t this time. Thinking my next step was the floor since it appeared it was so close, I missed the bottom step. In times like these there is that spit-second when you just know something isn’t quite right and that the floor wasn’t where it was suppose to be. Just enough of a distance to throw me off balance and I went tumbling to the floor. Since I was in a closet, the wall was there to break my fall rather than just allowing me to be splayed out like some kind of chucked pumpkin.

The wall was gracious enough to give in somewhat and allow my shoulder to embed. The hit would have been much harder had there been a stud directly behind where I hit and my shoulder would have known the difference. So I considered myself lucky, and with a bonus as the floor was carpeted, which was not so in most of the house.

So now, I’m lying out like some kind of a wrestler who has just been ceremoniously tossed out of the ring and contemplation the pain in my left wrist. “Damn a sprain.” “That is going to slow me down.” I looked around and no one saw what happened. Good. That was some saving grace for I don’t look very pretty in those kinds of positions. Once up, I glance at the wall…crap, now we have a wall to fix and a 5-minute job just turned into hours.

It doesn’t take very long until my wrist is swelling up and starting to throb. On my way home I pick up an ACE brace for my wrist. I’m pretty sure it is just a sprain since I can still move my fingers, albeit sensitive. Frozen peas, frozen corn for ice packs and a pretty much kick back night. Jeanie says go see a doctor, “Doctor, we don’t need no stinkin’ doctor.”

Three weeks pass and there is still a bit of discomfort, so I give in and make an appointment with the doctor. Checking me over he decides that I need x-rays and that I probably broke something. Great! The x-rays come back and with my Distal Radius Fracture, (Broken Wrist) I am sent to an orthopedic doctor for further treatment.

Ok, since it now has been over three weeks and the fracture has started to heal, the orthopedic doctor says in a mildly “parenting” voice, “If you would have come right in, I would have put pins in this, but since it is already fusing back together and is only off by about one millimeter, we are going to leave it alone.” Phew, I guess I dodged that bullet, as I am not very fond of surgery, even if it is necessary. He does go on to say, “Just to make sure it doesn’t come out of its misalignment, we will put a cast on it anyway.”

Great, just what I wanted…a cast. Ok well I’m at the very least hoping for a black one. I have always wanted a black cast as they go with my
wardrobe. “Sorry, we are out of black. You can have white, pink or blue.” Now, I am pretty comfortable with my femininity, but I am afraid that pink would be a bit over the top and I’m pretty sure Jon Jr. wouldn’t be taking me with him in the field anytime soon. White gets dirty too fast, so it looks like blue it is. Fortunately, it turns out to be Lutron Blue. Anyway, three more weeks and I should be past this and my little blue companion.

While I have not been able to fully use my left hand/arm, I have been reminded several times these last few weeks how fortunate I am really. As I drive to the office I have been seeing a man on a morning walk that has lost his left arm at the elbow. He is sporting something that looks like a large white stocking over the arm. That alone helps me keep a perspective on this whole thing and makes me realize this condition of mine is just temporary…where his unfortunately is not.

We need only to look around to see others not quite so fortunate as ourselves.

I feel lucky.

Love, Dad

Posted in Health, Weekend Letter | Comments Off

Father’s Day 2011

Posted on June 18, 2011 by Jon Long Sr

Good Morning, “Father’s Day”

It is not just on days like today that thoughts of my father cross my mind, but because of the media and promoting “Father’s Day”, I think I am reminded a bit more than not.

It is easy for me to remember my father, as I was fortunate to have a dad that instilled good values and a sense responsibility to my life. He did this mostly by example more than any kind of a lecture and because I respected him and wanted to make him proud of me. He also knew when to let me make my mistakes, endure the consequences and through this, I gained life experience. There was a certain smile he had that said, ”Ok, go ahead and see what happens.”

Of course there were times, especially in my teens, when I would lose sight of that and I am certain my actions were a bit of a disappointment. The “teens” can be difficult when you are trying to show your independence while subconsciously realizing that you are still dependent on your parents. Also, around that time the hormonal changes don’t help much in decision-making.

“When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years.” ~Author unknown, commonly attributed to Mark Twain but no evidence has yet been found for this (Thanks, Garson O’Toole!)

I cannot recall that I ever once doubted that my father loved me. He may not have always liked some of the things I did, but he always loved me in spite of myself. So the thought of disappointing mom and dad was what helped keep me in line.

My father wasn’t a “huggie” kind of guy until much later in his life. I believe that had a lot to do with his youth and not receiving much physical affection as a child. He left home when he was 16 and had to make it “out there”. That is probably one of the reasons he was proud of his accomplishments after coming for meager means and why he wanted me be to be the best I could be, so my life would not be as hard as his.

It was by example that my father taught me about being a man, how to be honest in my dealings and to respect my fellow man. It was by examplethat my father taught me how to treat and respect the women in my life, by how he showed his love for my mother and letting her know she was the best thing in his life. While my father did not push his spiritual beliefs on me, mom and he did make sure that I had a basis to start from and that in later years I could choose my own path.

“He didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.” ~Clarence Budington Kelland

Having smoked cigarettes from the time he was sixteen and then working as a welder for many years, the constant toxins to his lungs took their toll on his body. Dad developed bladder cancer in his 50s (one of the most common cancers caused by smoking in men) and until the day he died he endured so many indignities to his body that I would not wish these things on anyone. He mellowed and became more “huggie” in those years, and I enjoyed a level of communication with him that was more man-to-man. Things become more precious when there is less of it to share and this was certainly the case with the time that dad had left.

“Sherman made the terrible discovery that men make about their fathers sooner or later… that the man before him was not an aging father but a boy, a boy much like himself, a boy who grew up and had a child of his own and, as best he could, out of a sense of duty and, perhaps love, adopted a role called Being a Father so that his child would have something mythical and infinitely important: a Protector, who would keep a lid on all the chaotic and catastrophic possibilities of life.” ~Tom Wolfe, The Bonfire of the Vanities

It was in those later years that I got to know my father as a man, and while we faced the inevitable, they turned out to be some of the best years I can remember.

I don’t need a Father’s Day to remember my dad, but it is nice to be reminded.

Love, Dad

John Levi Long [1915-1987]

Posted in Parenting, Relationships, Weekend Letter | Comments Off

Butter Dish

Posted on May 28, 2011 by Jon Long Sr

Good Morning,

It was the 29^th of June 1949, when my Grandmother Long (Dora Matilda Voigt) died in Magnet, Nebraska. I was four years old at the time and have no recollection of her other than what I have seen in old photos.

We were living in Hillsboro, Oregon at the time and my mom, dad, Karen and I made the long trip back to the Midwest for the funeral. Now my grandparents were pretty common folks and did not have a lot of nice things, so most of what they had were personal items. It was many years later, maybe ten, when my mother told me that the Fenton Carnival Glass table set had once belonged to my Grandma Long.

I grew up around a plethora of antiques, as mom and dad were pretty serious collectors when we lived in Modesto, California during the early fifties. They had such a large collection of old Carnival Glass, that now and then, they would have an open house to show the collection for charities. Most of it was kept in a separate room dedicated to the collection. I remember six large china cabinets all with lights inside along with other wall shelves, tables and many plates hung on the walls. Even today, I recall it to be quite a sight.

Eventually, most of the Carnival Glass Collection was sold just before we moved to a new house in 1960. I didn’t put it together then, but looking back, I have to think it was to get enough money for the down payment on the new house. I know they loved the old glass and it had to be difficult giving it up, but then life is made of choices and priorities.

It wasn’t until after my dad had died and mom moved to Oregon, that I heard the whole story about Grandma’s Table Set. You see… it was one of the very few things my father had gotten of his mothers after she had passed and that they had brought back from Nebraska. A basic set Sugar, Creamer and Butter Dish. The Sugar and Butter Dish would both have had lids. For as long as I could remember, the Butter Dish did not have a lid. Not knowing much about such things back then, I did not think much about it. That changed when I started collecting glass myself in the 1980s.

It was one of those days when mom felt she needed to tell me things and identify family items so I would know later when she was gone. When we came to Grandma Long’s Carnival Glass Table Set (Fenton’s Butterfly & Berry Pattern, circa 1911), I asked mom why there wasn’t a top for the Butter Dish. Her countenance changed and she became maudlin. She explained that shortly after they had returned from Nebraska in 1949, she was dusting the pieces, which they had out on display and apparently a stray loop of fabric on the dust cloth caught the top knob of the butter dish lid and it was on the floor in pieces before she could stop it. I could tell by the change in her voice that this was something which she had carried some guilt for a long time. She knew it was an accident and she certainly did not mean to do it, but… well it was something she still owned. I asked if during all those years of collecting antiques if she and dad had looked for a replacement. They had looked and had never seen one, so there it sat, “topless” in the china cabinet for 45 years and a constant reminder of her self-imposed guilt for her carelessness.

It was during these years that Jeanie and I were starting to collect old glass. One Sunday while we were out cruising the shops in Salem, Oregon…we saw it. There in a glass case, top shelf, sat a butter dish top only. It was in perfect condition. Apparently, from what the shop owner said, it had just been put out the week before by the owner who had finally given up on finding a bottom for the dish. Sometimes, it is good to be lucky and the timing was perfect. Needless to say, we bought it.

As mom got older she did not get out as much. The seventy plus years and two knee replacements had slowed her down to where spending hours walking through antique shops, just became something she used to do. Now she lived vicariously through our shopping adventures and treasure discoveries. It became a little ritual that we would bring our findings at the end of the day over to moms and she would unpack them and we would talk about each find. It was something she enjoyed and we all looked forward to.

We purposely put the wrapped butter dish top at the very bottom of the bag that day so it would be the very last item unwrapped. Mom was like a kid opening Christmas presents. She would feel the pieces as she picked them out of the bag and then would be thinking about what the piece could possibly be. As she picked up the wrapped butter dish lid she paused, looked at us and then unwrapping it carefully to reveal its iridescent marigold color. The flood of emotion, guilt and salvation released with the instant gasp was almost overwhelming and was something I had never seen in my mom before. This was quickly followed with tears. Tears of joy… tears of relief… tears of freedom from 45 years of self-imposed guilt. Except for grandchildren, I doubt that there was much we could have given my mom that meant so very much.

It was how mom felt that keeps this memory alive in me today. Sure we still have the table set, but now it means even more for the memories that go with it.

Love, Dad

Posted in Old Glass, Thoughts, Weekend Letter | 2 Comments

Archives

Meta