Snow!

First snow of the season. Wet, heavy, heart-attack snow. Tree-damaging snow. Hazardous to electrical wires snow. Snow-emergency snow. Snow that requires the first use of our newly hired plowing service ("I don't start plowing until the snow stops." Makes sense, but what if there are twelve inches?) Snow that is so close to water it will all turn to ice once it melts, rendering me a shut-in until March. Cookie-baking snow. Stay in and watch movies snow. Soup making snow. Snow that keeps the cat Mitzi inside for the rest of the winter. Snow that brought Joe College Grad home in search of "boots" (a pair of suede Nike skater shoes -- "They're great, Mom. I've used them for two winters, and they don't smell when they get wet.")

It's beautiful.

Remembrance of Things Past

Although the arrival was not timed, I appreciated the appearance of the Kramer movie, It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World with an amzing cast. Classic 60s caper comedy, with:

Spencer Tracy
Milton Berle
Sid Caesar
Edie Adams
Ethel Merman
Jonathan Winters
Mickey Rooney
Buddy Hackett
Phil Silvers
Dorothy Provine
Dick Shawn
Terry-Thomas

And this is just the main cast. The secondary players include the likes of Don Knotts, Jimmy Durante and Jim Backus.

The reason I was so glad it showed up now -- having been languishing in the Netflix queue for years, it seems, is that this is one of the movies my dad took me to see. This, along with "The Shaggy Dog", are iconic events in my childhood.

Be careful what you take to your kids to see. They may manufacture a memory out of it 50 years later.

Funeral planning

What do you do after a death in the family? There are so many details to attend to. Some family members care about the details, others do not. But the details have to be attended to by someone.

You can leave much of this in the hands of the funeral director, who will, for a price, take care of almost everything. The professionals will find a minister, let you use their facilities, provide refreshments, etc., etc. They will not, at least in Massachusetts, sell you a marker, as per state law. Instead, they will refer you to a favored place. I assume they get a kickback, but someone has to do it.

We were referred to Empire Granite, serving Worcester since 1896. And the facilities had not been changed since then. However, the salesperson (did I mention that it is definitely a family business?) quickly figured out that we did not want two granite hearts or entwined flowers and pointed us at something that everyone could agree on. Folks in his business have to be good at reading people, and he was.

But, as with everything, a visit to a new kind of salesroom is also a lesson. For example, did you know why joint headstones have the other spouse's name and birth date already engraved? It always seemed tacky to me. However, if you don't do this, you will probably have to take the marker down when the next person dies, and in the case of Empire Granite, send it back to Vermont where the work is actually done. Most folks, including me, don't want this additional expense. Hence the premature listing of the other spouse. Apparently just entering the death year is something that can be done without removing the stone entirely. And now you know.

Another thing that someone has to do is plan the memorial service. What hymns, if the dear departed liked to sing hymns, which was true of my father? I can't stand Fairest Lord Jesus, which he apparently liked -- who knew? So my mother and I compromised on some other warhorses that we both liked.

And then the readings and speakers. That was easier. A few Psalms (although they had to be from the King James -- find a Unitarian minister who can do that!), something my dad had written, some reminiscences from a former colleague -- and we were done. Then off to the social hour, pie and ice cream, my dad's two favorite foods.

Still in the hopper -- find a few musicians to lend gravitas to the occasion. We have a piano player -- no organ, which is too bad. Gotta get the program printed. Hope that someone sends flowers, even thought the obit says no flowers! Need to arrange some photos, especially the cute ones from the 20s and 30s for folks to look at while they are eating pie. I'm sure there are other things to do, but if we don't, the event will still happen.

I'm thinking of writing up my insights into funeral planning. Oops--guess I've already done that. The big lesson in all this is that you have lots of different people to please. In this case, my mother, my brother, my uncle (who is performing the role of master of ceremonies at the memorial service) and I had to agree. So far it's worked out fine but there is still time for something unresolvable to arise. We'll see.

End of an Era

My dad died on October 15. It was a remarkable journey in some ways, but a frustrating one in many others, especially for my mother, who took care of him long after he was unable to care for himself. My brother and I have so many conflicting thoughts about this: how does one measure quality of life? What constitutes heroic measures? When is enough enough? Why does Medicare pay for hospice and not a nursing home?

However, there is nothing we can do to answer these questions right now. Time to plan a memorial service. Talked my mother out of a sappy hymn, replaced it with some old warhorses with strong chords and less sectarian lyrics. At this stage, little things mean a lot.

We're back

Domestic Tranquility is back online. So many challenging, enjoyable and stressful events of the past few months, it's hard to know where to begin. Middle age is not for sissies -- actually, when one qualifies for membership in AARP, is middle age the right term?

The short list:

Many, many trips to Boston and Worcester to visit the folks. Logan Airport is still under construction. Dad is quite demented, with a 24/7 caregiver. Mom has been soldiering on, but broke her hip a month ago and has been in and out of hospital and nursing home

Middle son graduated from the University of Minnesota with a major in History and a minor in Environmental Studies. OLGS and I are very proud of him.

Chinese exchange student Kevin graduated from St. Paul Prep and returned to Shanghai. We hope he comes back -- we haven't heard whether he will be going to St. Thomas University in St. Paul.

OLGS and I made our annual pilgrimage to Washington County, Maine. Still desolate, poor and without cell phone towers. Big secret: go to the IGA parking lot in Eastport and you might get lucky. It worked for us. We stayed in three very different places: Micmac Farm, a B & B in Machiasport that was the house built by my great, great, great grandfather in 1786 (he lived a long time and had many children); a room over a tavern in Lubec, Cohill's Inn; and a B & B in a beautiful Victorian house filled with antiques -- Kilby House in Eastport. All nice, and each one was different. We braved the new ICE passport regulations and drove into Canada to visit the summer home of FDR on Campobello. Apparently we were not the first folks to do this -- the customs officials had a pre-printed flyer for people without required identification trying to enter the US. Another big secret-- they can't keep you out.

Then to the beautiful country wedding of my nephew. Great food, amazing cakes baked by the bride, and the groom and his entourage wore kilts. There was a bagpiper. Fortunately, it wasn't too hot -- the piper was in full regalia. College friends of the groom camped out in tents by the river, a settlement quickly termed Hooverville by my sister in law. After the ceremony was over, the food eaten and the band gone, the young people hung out on the riverbank. Us oldsters didn't really want to know what was going on.

New York, New York

We've been back for a couple of weeks, but there is still a slight glow left over from our recent trip to NYC. Here's the executive summary:

Journeyed via Midwest Airlines to LGA. OLGS got us in a gypsy cab that quickly took us to our hotel in lower Manhattan, with a view of Ground Zero and the New Jersey skyline.

Then off to Avery Fisher Hall to hear the New York Philharmonic, surrounded by lots of the matinee set -- elderly ladies in fur coats, a few dragging long-suffering husbands behind them.

Stroll to Cafe Luxemburg on W. 70th Street. A nice bistro; the cool bit was that the wait staff, all uniformly young and beautiful, were getting instructions about the menu for the dinner hour. I wonder how much of that they actually remember. Then back downtown.

Saturday AM, off to the Whitney Museum to meet OLGS's cousin Blanche and her husband and son for brunch. I had the blintzes, to which husband Charles, who is 18 years my senior and a doctor, said, "You must be on Lipitor. No way you could eat that stuff without it." I mumbled something about good genes and continued stuffing my face.

Took the bus uptown to Columbia, across 110th street, to visit the statue of great Hungarian Louis Kossuth on Riverside Drive. Took pictures of OLGS standing in front Tom's Restaurant, famous among Columbia students long before it became a fixture in Seinfeld.

Then cab to the Ethel Barrymore theater to see new play by David Mamet, "Race". Theater packed, play OK but a little forced. Audience tittered at slightly funny bits to relieve tension caused by talking about uncomfortable subjects.

Then strolled around Times Square, visited a deli, primarily for a bathroom stop but also for cheesecake, then hopped a bus downtown. This is the way to see New York if you don't walk. Bus crawled down Broadway, past innumerable shops with trendy clothing, interior decorating boutiques, bookstores, etc. Who buys all this stuff?

By the time we got to Fulton, it was dark. We hopped off the bus, briefly stopped in our hotel room, and then cabbed to Chelsea to visit some friends. Nice dinner in a restaurant featuring local food. We were by far the oldest people there.

Sunday--Church at Trinity Church -- Washington slept here... Sermon had something to do with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and how he would be appalled by life in 2010. At least that's what I think it was about. Then brunch at another bistro. When we came out, it was pouring. We cabbed up to a movie theater, the Angelika, where we saw a film about the last year of Tolstoy's life with the incomparable Helen Mirren. You could hear the subway rumbling under the theater. I liked the movie, OLGS did not.

When we came out of the theater, it had stopped raining. Off to the Strand bookstore (18 MILES OF BOOKS). I bought a paperback to read on the plane, OLGS bought hundreds of dollars worth of books on Hungarian history and Hungarian emigration to the US. "It's all deductible," says he. Back to the hotel to get our bags, and then a cab to LGA. Pouring again. OLGS talked cab talk with the driver, who seemed to be pleased to have a former NYC cabbie in his backseat. Then onto Midwest Airlines, and thence home via Milwaukee.

And if I had several million dollars, I'd move there in a heartbeat.

Here is New York

OLGS and I went to NYC to celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary -- wow! I was insufferable at work on Thursday. "Sorry -- I can't make that meeting. I'm going to New York, you know." "Sorry -- can't take you home Friday night -- I'll be in New York." I couldn't help myself.

And here we are. Still the greatest city in the world.

New Year's Wish

It is now cold in Minnesota, and the natives are walking around all puffed up -- and it's not just those down jackets. Rather, it's pride in their ability to endure. When reporters describe the panic visited upon Washington by two or three inches of snow, Minnesotans smile knowingly and suggest that if they were in charge of snow removal in our nation's capital -- and probably much else -- things would be at least different, if not better. And they may be right.

But we are too tolerant, if such as thing is possible. Terminally nice Minnesotans meet idiocy with shrugs of the shoulders or a muttered, "That's different". That may be as exercised as they get. So if someone seems like an OK guy, like Governor Pawlenty, or a great mom, like Representative Michelle Bachmann, we forgive their nutso ideas.

My wish for 2010: that Minnesotans rediscover their progressive roots and start recognizing the need to care for people they may not like, who may be unworthy and who may even cost them a little money. These are small prices to pay for rediscovering their once celebrated dedication to the common good. That's a nutso idea I can support.

Happy New Year.

Waiting

Christmas is the season of anticipation, whatever your persuasion. You could be cranky, like Garrison Keillor, railing against Unitarians and Jews as killers of Christmas, but still looking forward to singing the old carols. You could be beside yourself with anticipation, like a six year old who still clings to Santa Claus as the bringer of all good things. You could be old and disinclined to celebrate, but awaiting a visit from your son and his wonderful wife on Christmas Day. You could be a secular Jew who looks forward to the eggnog and fireplace and celebratory atmosphere. You could be a homeless person who hopes to find a good meal for a change at the Union Gospel Mission.

Or you could be me, waiting for Joe College to return safely from India so that we can all decorate the tree, fight about the distribution of the ornaments, and fulfill the old family tradition of going to the movies on Christmas day. Can't wait.

Pie pumpkin

OLGS and I share a membership in a CSA farm. We get a huge bag of veggies every week. The last couple of deliveries have included small pumpkins. Last year I used all the pumpkins for decoration, including the one labeled "pie pumpkin". This year, because Kevin, our Chinese students, said he loves pumpkin pie (and I don't think my cooking always hits the mark, although he is too polite to say so), I resolved to use the pie pumpkin.

A revelation--it's not that hard. Just cut the pumpkin up, take out the guts, and steam it for a while. Then peel off the shell. It is sweet, rich and flavorful and tastes nothing like an insipid butternut squash or something else along those lines. I can see why it's called pie pumpkin.

Never again will I use a pie pumpkin for a jack o lantern. Sometimes you just have to learn from your mistakes.

And then we can have pie for breakfast.

Fall update at domtran

So many things going on, and I save them up for publication on Domtran rather than posting them as they occur on Facebook, like many of my pals. I guess I'm old fashioned.

Anyway, here are the current matters that contribute to domestic tranquility here in the city of lakes (aka Mineapolis):

-Joe College is having a great time in India. See photo.
-Household cats hate each other. See Mitzi's Journal.
-Love being back at Findlaw. Former colleagues think I'm nuts.
-Chinese student, Kevin, scored high on his TOEFL test. Today: SATs. He wants to go to NYU. When asked why, he responded, "I can't get into Columbia." Of course, I couldn't get in now, either. Weren't the 70s wonderful?
-Ceramic tile installed in kitchen. Looks gorgeous. Now we'll have to fix everything else to match.
-The First Snow. Looks lovely. However, one has to wonder why anyone lives here.
-Gophers playing down the street. Parking now impossible on our street on game days. Much anguish and chit-chat on the neighborhood listserv. And we can hear the play-by-play even with the windows closed, so no need to shell out $100 for a ticket.

Family resemblance

OLGS's cousin Herb came to visit. Herb has the energy of a man half his age, and he's 74 next birthday. He was full of sage advice about academic careers, law school admissions and much more. He knows everyone in the academy and has great stories.

He doesn't look much like OLGS--after all, they are only second cousins. Herb is short and voluble and has a thick head of white hair. OLGS, in contrast is way over 6 feet and quiet and has almost no hair. But as they sat at the kitchen table plotting career moves, there was a fleeting moment when they looked like brothers. Funny how that works.

Back to school

It's that time again. No more vacation, no more lounging around on the patio, no more lying in bed until hunger calls. It's back to school. Even for those of us not on the academic calendar, this seems like the time for change. So I up and quit my job at Globe University and am heading back to the lawyers at Findlaw. Many reasons to do this, but the most important one: it's a better fit for me. The cynicism and manipulation of the law match my personality better than the earnestness of Globe. I feel like I've been sitting on my hands, or in this case biting my tongue, for many months. Let's see how long I last this time.

I feel incredibly fortunate that I have a choice and can afford to indulge myself. Few people in this economy get that opportunity. In other news, Joe College grad went back to teaching first grade, this time in Minneapolis, Joe College starts school in India, and Joe High School Grad starts his career as a gopher at the U of M. And OLGS begins his 27th year of teaching undergraduates. I feel like the odd person out--the only person in the family not seeking or providing mental and spiritual improvement. Oh, well. Someone around here has to work.

From "Kek Duna" to "Father of the Waters"

by OLGS, guest blogger.

DomTran and I are safely returned to Minnesota after a long day's travel. I am proud to say that I managed, in Hungarian, to convince our taxi driver that he had taken us to the wrong airport and that he had to take us to the correct one if we wished to make our flight to Amsterdam and there make connections to Minneapolis. The mystery was why the hotel staff at the very elegant "Lanchid19" hotel told the driver the wrong airport, "Ferihegy 1."

DomTran was dubious about my insistence that the driver had made a mistake, but felt a bit relieved when we left the pre-war Ferihegy 1 (pictured above) and saw the new jetport at the second one, Ferihegy 2, pictured below.




In one day, we left the "Kek Duna" (Blue Danube) for what President Lincoln called "the Father of the Waters" when referring to the Mississippi River. We are glad to be home after a memorable vacation.

Budapest sightseeing

by OLGS, guest blogger.

We are staying at the Lanchid Hotel, right next to the Chain Bridge across the Danube,and center stage for the Thursday night fireworks celebrating St. Istvan Day. The fireworks were sensational and the crowd or a million people or more on both the Buda and Pest sides of the river were appreciative.

Yesterday (Friday), Domtran and I did a tour of the city and had a leisurely dinner at a Buda sidewalk cafe. Today we plan to visit more sites, before returning to the U.S. tomorrow (Sunday the 23rd).