A little July 4th jaunt

Wife and I had no plans for the July 4th weekend. All of our family members were otherwise occupied, and most of our friends had plans as well. 

I have been in kind of a funk about the 250th anniversary because Trump, as he so often does, has tried to make it about him. Some years back we went to Washington for the 4th, spent a good part of the day out on the National Mall and watched the fireworks behind the Washington Monument that night. We had the whole family with us (it was before grandchildren and even before two of the in-laws, although one of them was with us as a significant other) and it was a lot of fun. 

But it was definitely a one-and-done, something I care not about doing again. And I would not have gone near the place this year with Trump's "state fair" and all the various ways he co-opted the event. 

Now, let me say, in many ways this is my problem. As much as he might like it to be otherwise, Donald Trump does not own this country, and I have just as much right -- if not an obligation -- to be patriotic as I ever did. So, I am acknowledging I have some work to do to get my head straight about all of this. 

And to be fair, July 4th has never been a favorite holiday anyway, long before Donald Trump, probably because it's in summer, and July 4th, in the places I have lived in my life (primarily Arkansas and Tennessee) is usually blazing hot. 

Back to my point (yes, there is one). With our having no July 4th plans, about a week before, Wife and I discussed how we might spend it. Wife usually makes our travel plans but said she was up for anything if I wanted to come up with something. 

Readers might recall a couple of years ago I visited the Abraham Lincoln Museum Library and Museum in Springfield, Illinois. I thoroughly enjoyed it and decided I should visit other presidential libraries and museums when the opportunity might present itself. Best I can remember, in addition to the Lincoln one, I have visited the Bush library (Bush II) in Dallas and that's it. I have not even been to the Clinton Library in Little Rock, where I lived 17 years and where I still visit friends from time to time. 

I did some research and figured out the Harry S. Truman Library and Museum, in Independence, Missouri, would be about an eight-hour-drive for us. 

So, this is what I proposed to Wife and she was in. We drove a little more than half-way on Thursday July 2nd and drove on to Independence Friday morning. We toured the museum that afternoon. When we were done, we drove into Kansas City and enjoyed Kansas City barbecue that evening. 

As it turned out, Kansas City was hosting part of the FIFA World Cup and in fact, that night Ghana and Columbia were playing. We stayed at a hotel downtown across the street from Union Station. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, was about FIFA. The streets were filled with fans. And while we are not soccer fans, it was interesting to witness all the hoopla around the World Cup tournament. 

On Saturday morning we visited the World War I Museum and Memorial just a short walk from our hotel. After having visited the Truman library and filling our heads with World War II knowledge and information, and the next day spending several hours looking at artifacts and reading placards pertaining to WWI, our minds were overflowing and we realized how much history we had forgotten, 

To supplement my visit to the Truman museum, I have been reading The Accidental President by A.J. Baine, subtitled: Harry S. Truman and the Four Months that Changed the World. Truman, of course, ascended to the presidency when FDR died in April after being inaugurated for his fourth term the preceding January. Truman did not even want to be vice-president, much less president, and yet here he was, faced with arguably one of the most difficult decisions of any president in history (dropping the atomic bomb). 

Saturday night we attended a Kansas City Royals game (we manage to work baseball into our trips whenever possible) and stayed for the post-game fireworks. After visiting two American historical museums and being reminded of the sacrificial service of so many patriots, I felt a bit more like celebrating. 

Although we had planned to go to another baseball game Sunday, the temperatures were soaring and we decided one was plenty. We drove all the way home. 

Here are a couple of pictures from the front of the Truman museum, and from the fireworks show after the baseball game: 

                                                       

    

                                                       

Two quarters behind us

If I were still in the working world, yesterday (July 1) I would have been marking the end of second quarter, and the mid-way point through the year. 

Since I am no longer in the working world, I no longer have to concern myself with such milestones. But since I still follow the rhythm of a calendar, I can't help but think about being half-way through 2026 and how incredibly fast life goes. 

Wife and I have learned much over the course of nearly 42 years of marriage, with one of the main lessons being that with a family, you are going to have ups and downs, highs and lows. Sometimes the good parts come on the heels of the bad parts (and vice-versa) and sometimes they come simultaneously. 

We started the year knowing our son-in-law's cancer journey, after two years (his diagnosis was in November of 2023), was not nearly done. And at the mid-year point, it is still that way. 

Although he is getting a break from treatment right now and they (my daughter and their family) are spending a wonderful week at the beach, next week there will be another doctor's visit and discussion of where they go from here. If you are reading this and you are a praying person, I would ask you to continue offering them up for this sweet family, and for Wife and me as we continue to navigate our role in all of this.

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Last week Wife and I became grandparents for the seventh time. Our youngest and his sweet wife added a little girl to their family. She has a two-year-old big brother who was not immediately delighted with her presence but is warming to her. 

                                                                                   

We were in charge of Big Brother during the birth but got to see the new little bundle of joy a few hours after she arrived. All is well, and Wife and I are overjoyed with this newest addition to the family. 

A new baby is perhaps the closest I get to witnessing a miracle. 

Ups and downs. Highs and lows. 

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We spent a couple of days in Atlanta and watched our eight-year-old grandson play baseball. We also watched his dad, our oldest, serve as the volunteer pitcher. 

Another lesson: the more things change, the more they stay the same. Just as they did when my sons and daughter were participating in sports, certain parents and grandparents, especially those who sit in the stands and make no contribution whatsoever to the event other than their butts in seats, feel free to offer their opinions. 

Not only was our grandson, who is one of the best players on the team (says his unbiased grandfather), criticized for, among other infractions, (a) bunting or (b) not bunting at the alleged appropriate times, his father -- our son -- who is 40 years old and volunteers his time, was the object of catcalls and loud comments regarding the proficiency of his pitching to eight-year-olds. 

For example: 

"Good eye, Junior! I wouldn't swing at that either!"

"You gotta slow down, pitcher!"

"You gotta pitch faster than that!"

I am not making this up. 

But you should be proud of Wife and me. We stewed and we seethed, and one of us might have gotten up and walked away and demonstrated with body language the disgust we felt, but neither of us made a scene by turning around and telling the offending parties what they could do with their thoughts and opinions. 

And I guess if I'm being reasonable, I know my 40-year-old son does not need his dad, who is much older than 40, stepping in to defend him. But really, I could have done a great job taking them all on in defense of both my son and grandson. 

And it would have been so easy to do so because we don't live there and we don't have to see those people again anytime soon. But our son and daughter-in-law do live there, so it would not have been fair to them to leave our mark. 

But I wanted to. 

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Ups and downs. Highs and lows. Calm and anxiety. Smooth sailing and rapids. 

With eyes open and (sometimes) eyes closed. 

Tomorrow or today?

I guess it had to happen sooner or later in my retirement life, not knowing what day -- or date -- it is. 

The sad thing is I have no excuse. My (very) smart phone tells me the date when I open it for the day. I have an electronic calendar as well as a paper one. 

And yet, this morning, when I parked my car in the parking lot of my haircutting establishment, Michelle, who has cut my hair for several years, was parking hers a few spaces away. She waved at me, but with a peculiar look on her face. 

I was pleased because, since she was just arriving, I would be her first appointment and there would be no waiting. My schedule is busy in retirement, you know. 

I walked in a few paces behind her and sat down in one of the waiting room chairs, knowing the wait would be brief. 

Michelle comes out of the back room with the same peculiar look from the parking lot. 

"I don't have you in my book today," she said. 

I proceeded to tell her, politely, how there must be some mistake on her part. Just as I got the words out of my mouth, she said, "you are scheduled for 8:30 tomorrow morning."

"But let me show you my calendar and my email confirmation," I said, before turning 50 shades of red as I confirmed what she had just told me, that my appointment was tomorrow. 

"Well, what date is it?" I asked her, and bless her heart, with a look of pity, she answered me in a quiet voice, before saying, "I'll see you tomorrow, OK?"

Surely there is a three-strike rule, and I'll get at least one more incident like this before she calls my wife and suggests an intervention.