Musings on Turning 38

Five days left until I enter the last two years of my 30s. I was reading my birthday entry from a year ago, and there's a tinge of bittersweet in it. There always is, isn't it? Unmet expectations, disappointments, but also joy that family and friends are well and intact and overall, it has been a good year. Maybe not a great year, but it's been good. Full of travel, times to see friends, time with family. A new nephew. Mostly good health.

Every year like this is a blessing, even if there are unfulfilled wishes and desires. And I know I should never take anything for granted. Because when you reach this stage--practically middle age, right?--you should never assume that 12 months later, things will remain.

So 38? I have a twenty year high school reunion year coming up. Remember how a classmate passed away last year? So nothing is assumed, and I don't even know if I would attend, anyway. But that's a milestone. And there are many things to look forward to, like a trip to Europe, a week at the beach, Napa, time with family, house projects. All good things.

My birthday is on Mardi Gras this year, and I don't remember how long it's been since it was last on that date. Better than Ash Wednesday, of course. I can still rejoice, and I have my moment to celebrate. Heck, I could be turning 40 this year, right? I'm not quite ready for that. But soon enough.

Interview with Liam Neeson

The recent 60 Minutes interview with Liam Neeson on the 5th anniversary of his wife's death has been making news. It's so lovely, and rare, to hear of a Hollywood actor talk with such adoration about his wife. I thought this was sweet, too.

Richardson's sudden, tragic death left Neeson to raise their sons, 13 and 12 at the time of their mother's passing, by himself. To this day, he told Cooper, he occasionally gets "this profound feeling of instability." But he's doing "okay" as a single parent.

"You know, it could have been a hell of a lot worse. I'm name-dropping for a second. Bono is a pal, and he came 'round to have a dinner," the Taken star said of the U2 singer and fellow Irishman. "And I remember he was sitting beside Micheal and, just out of the blue, he said, 'What age are you Micheal?' He said -- Micheal said, 'Thirteen.' And [Bono] said, 'Yeah, that's the age I was when I lost my mum.'"

"That was it. And it -- I -- I could've kissed him for it," Neeson continued. "He was, like, saying, 'You know, I lost my mom at this age and I'm doing okay. And you will do okay, too.'"

Miami

We had a nice working getaway to Sunny Isles over the weekend. Only small damper was a bit of e coli that kept us out of the ocean. But with 80 degree temps, drinks (um, scotch flights), two great six mile-ish runs, and no real responsibility...you cannot go wrong with all of that. We have had some great opportunities for fun travel this year. And yes, work stuff will come up, too. But sleeping in, sunshine, beach time, pool time, and just general relaxing time is so needed and rare. The hotel was very nice, and it made for a pretty good weekend. I'd recommend it.

North Korea: As Bad as the Nazis

From the UN:

The police and security forces of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea systematically employ violence and punishments that amount to gross human rights violations in order to create a climate of fear that pre-empts any challenge to the current system of government and to the ideology underpinning it. The institutions and officials involved are not held accountable. Impunity reigns.

The use of torture is an established feature of the interrogation process in the Democratic People's Republic of Korea, especially in cases involving political crimes.

Persons who are found to have engaged in major political crimes are "disappeared", without trial or judicial order, to political prison camps (kwanliso).

In the political prison camps of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea, the inmate population has been gradually eliminated through deliberate starvation, forced labour, executions, torture, rape and the denial of reproductive rights enforced through punishment, forced abortion and infanticide. The commission estimates that hundreds of thousands of political prisoners have perished in these camps over the past five decades.

None of this is news to anyone who follows what goes on there. But it's tragic, and I suspect, very little will be done. 

20 Years Later

On February 12, I always recall that morning, now twenty years ago, when dad quietly knocked on my door and told me that grandpa had passed away. It was a Saturday, and I had spent the night before shopping at Lakeside, at Hudson's, I think. And I had to work that day. And it was a little more than three months before my high school graduation and 20 days before I turned 18. And dad told me he was glad that grandpa did not pass away on my birthday. It was one of the few times he referenced his mom to me.

I've lived more than half of my life without three of my four grandparents, and it's been nearly a decade since my other grandfather passed away. I was fortunate to have three of them for over 17 years, I know, though I'm still jealous when I hear someone had one into their 30s. Or even 40s, rare as it is.

I see this relationship with my nephews and niece, who will all hopefully be fortunate enough to recognize what wonderful grandparents they've been blessed with. Lucky kiddies.

I had McDonald's today, a grilled chicken salad and a cheeseburger. It is always my way of playing tribute to him, and a way for me to remember those trips up north, those Saturday shopping visits, the times with the pets and the times in the garden and hitting the golf ball around. It was decades ago already, and now I enter a third decade without him.

We're on the brink of our latest DC blizzard, and the city is unsettled somewhat, as we anticipate and prepare for a foot of snow (maybe). It's not Snowmaggedon, but emotions get exaggerated as we prepare for the doom and gloom. I think how grandpa was a Winter Floridian, and I think I get that feeling of escape from him.

Love you, Grandpa, and I miss you and I don't forget you, especially when I see your namesake great-grandson. What a sweet boy, and I see so much of you in him.

Memories from Park City

1. Baby C falling asleep across my body on Friday night.
2. Pizza with much of the family at Red Banjo.
3. Saturday  night dinner at Buona Vita.
4. Running along the snowy paths on Saturday morning, all the way until the plowing stopped.
5. Hiking up Shorty's Stairs with J & E.
6. Listening to the karaokers.
7. Snow all day on Saturday, big fluffy white flakes covering and powdering over everything.
8. Lunch at Legends and the Shack.

It was a great trip, family time included, and I'm sure we'll remember this for a long while.

A New State

Tomorrow I'm off to Utah for the family ski trip (not that I will ski...). I have not been to Utah yet, so add that to the lists of states I have visited. By my count, I still need to get to Alaska, North Dakota, South Dakota, Wyoming, Idaho, Nebraska, Iowa, Vermont, and Maine. Maybe Rhode Island--I can't remember if I have been there yet. I don't think I have. So this will make 80% of the country. Not so bad.

Detroit and Infant Mortality

Wow. 

Detroit has the highest child-mortality rate of any American city, exceeding that of many parts of what we used to call the Third World. The rate of death before the age of 18 in Detroit is nearly three times New York City’s, and its infant-mortality rate exceeds that of Botswana. The main cause of premature death among the children of Detroit is premature birth — the second is murder.

Some of the other stats/facts about Detroit's leftist governance are familiar refrains. I think you need to give the city's new mayor a chance. It won't be politics as usual anymore, because too many outsiders are scrutinizing the city as they seek to save its art collection. Too bad its children aren't similar taken care of.