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-Gramps-

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  1. -Gramps-
    It's Easter Morning. This is a morning to celebrate Life, new life. I can see it out my office window. I see it in my grand boys; they are here in my office, playing on my computers. Because it is such a good morning I have the urge to share something with you, something that celebrates life.
    In October 2002 Diane and I went on an eight-night cruise. The ship was Royal Caribbean's Voyager of the Seas. We were there to celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary. Joel would be entering college the next year so it would be our last cruise for awhile. We didn't know at the time that we would purchase a land yacht (motorhome) and that it would be our last cruise for a very long time. We have not taken one since. Not on water, anyway. Now all our cruises are on land. We don't mind that one bit. Motorhoming is a better bargain when you consider the actual cost of cabin and food on a per cruise trip basis. Plus we are sleeping under our own sheets.
    I kept a daily journal (this was before the invention of the term "blog") of this cruise and published it as a 10-part series on the web at Cruise Critic.Com. It received thousands of views and many comments from around the world. It was very interesting to hear from people in Ireland, Canada, New Zealand and many other places.
    I suspect that some fellow Land Cruisers here also like to take a sea cruise every now and then, so maybe you would enjoy reading one part of the series. What does the journal have to do with my opening paragraph? It's a bit hard to explain. One Sunday morning, a few weeks after our cruise, I was sitting in church. The pastor's message was not resonating with me and I found myself thinking about a dream I had. The dream turned into a partially fictional story that I wrote in my head while sitting there. I put it down on paper as soon as I got home. Many people, who read it, said they wanted to believe it is a completely true story. Read it for yourself and you will find out how it celebrates life. It needs to be set up though, so you need to know what happened the third day of our cruise, then the dream story will make sense to you. If you have taken a cruise before, then you have an idea what goes on aboard ship and you should you enjoy reading this. If you have not been on a cruise I hope you enjoy my story anyway.
    Part V Day Three-Tuesday and Labadee is over there.
    Another morning of delight began, another morning with no alarm clocks, no Katie Couric, no disturbing pager calls. Today is going to be a great day; a day of nothing to do and happy to do it. I awoke slowly, very slowly, and took a look out the open balcony door. I could see the village of Labadee. The resort area was on the other side of the ship.
    I slipped on my robe and stepped out on the balcony. It was already very hot. I looked down at the blue-green water and immediately noticed large jellyfish swimming by the dozens, ghostly white beach umbrellas opening and closing. I was seeing these creatures from deck 10, they had to be really huge, not something that I wanted to meet at eye level. This was not swimming with the sting rays. The bay's salt content must be down due to a lot of rain water pouring into the bay from the mountains. We could thank Kyle for providing optimum conditions for these unpleasant creatures. However, the heat and the jellyfish were not going to be a problem for us, Diane and I had no plans to leave the ship. Unless you were kayaking (we did that the year before) or wave running (book them before the cruise) Labadee was a day of lying by the sea. Reclining around the Solarium pool with a good book and a good woman seemed a much better plan to me.
    I stepped back in, leaned down on the bed and ran my hand slowly down Diane's bare back. After thirty years the touch of her skin still causes my fingers to tingle. She rolled over and smiled.
    We were ready for breakfast, a brisk walk and then lounging around the pool with a great selection of chairs. Diane put on her swimsuit and cover-up; I put on my Speedos, (Remember? They are big red shorts) a Del Sol T-shirt and sneakers. We retrieved our sunglasses from the swans. We ran the stairs up one deck and aft to the Windjammer. No line, this IS a great day. We sat there eating our eggs and smoked salmon, melon, and sausage as the wave runners zipped around the ship sounding like a herd of wet weed whackers.
    They did look like fun. Off in the distance, I could see the parasail and the blue, green and orange kayaks. This was a most pleasant sight. We took our time sipping our water and nibbling on a second helping of cantaloupe.
    Off to deck 4, of course, for our morning constitutional. We had the urge to put on some speed this morning. I tended to get ahead of Diane so I would circle the helipad until she caught up. The section of deck around the dining room was closed for cleaning so we had to detour through the auto sliding doors past La Scala. If I hit the sensor just right and made a circle, we could slip through without breaking our pace. It looked weird but it worked. And the icy blast of air felt great.
    We were flying, around the deck, up the stairs, down the stairs, through the doors, around the port side, and....what is that awful smell?
    "Diane do you smell that or is it just me?"
    "It is you" she replied. I sat myself up for that corn toss. But there was a bad smell coming from a large blowing vent on the port side. I am guessing that it was the exhaust port for the garbage incinerator. We never noticed the smell at any other time. The source is still a mystery.
    We finished our walk; we worked up a good sweat which should make the cool pool feel great. We headed topside with a stop to pick up towels, (the note said to return them or be charged twenty dollars, this prevents people from leaving them on the chairs I betcha) and we grabbed sun screen, and books. The Solarium had about five people there when we arrived. The hardest decision of the daytime now faced us. Where do we sit? There? No. Over there? No. Here? Okay. Weary from decision making, we stripped to our swimsuits and I started to sit down. "I going to the spa at the party pool, this one is closed." Get in hot water? Okay. We walked to the main pool area and entered a spa. We had it to ourselves just long enough for me to figure out the controls and get the jets moving when another couple entered the pool. We chatted with them and found out the lady could not tolerate a lot of sun, and they also noticed the jellyfish. They were enjoying the cruise; she had been in the spa the day before and received the seaweed wrap, which she found to be wonderful, and afterwards bought 600 dollars worth of stuff. I could tell by the look on her husband's face that he did not find that so wonderful.
    We sat in the soup for about fifteen minutes and then went back to the Solarium pool. Without hesitation, I dove in. The water felt great, we splashed each other for awhile and then hit the chairs and did nothing until lunch time. Well, not exactly nothing. I did a lot of thinking. I reflected on the last year, all the emotional, mental, and physical pain that Diane and I had to share. The main reason for this Cruise was to have healing moments like this one.
    I was reading an inspirational book titled God's Psychiatry:
    One of the finest ways to relieve tension in your life is to picture still water clearly in your mind. Maybe a little lake nestling among some pines. Maybe a tiny, cool spring on some hillside. Maybe a calm sea with gentle rippling waves.
    After the picture becomes clear, then start repeating and believing, "He leadeth me beside the still waters." Such an experience produces a marvelous surrender and trust that enables one to face the heat of the day confidently, knowing there is refreshing and relaxed power awaiting under the leadership of one wiser than we.
    I did not have to imagine a still sea, I was on one.
    I must have slept some, because the next thing I knew it was after one. Diane, not wearing a watch but in tuned to her internal clock, informed me it was time to eat, so off to the Windjammer. It was closed. If you wanted a big lunch you best be on the Island or in the dining room. Wait! How about Johnny Rockets? That would be different. Up another deck and we were there.
    I liked the place; it reminded me of the Silver Diner. Good food and good music. We ordered the chicken club on wheat and one strawberry milkshake to share. The shake was so thick I thought I was going to pass out trying to suck it through my straw.
    After lunch back to the pool. At about three the Solarium started to fill up with people, I am not sure why. Some time after the Ships horn blew we were pretty sun soaked so we headed down to the cabin. Once there we took our time showering, and we were both on the balcony when the ship started sailing a bit late for Jamaica. I snapped a few pics.
    We lounged around the cabin reading and after five we started getting dressed for dinner. Diane put on a long form fitting purple dress with a red and purple scarf around her shoulders; I put on a Jones New York gray plaid suit with an iridescent purple-blue shirt and a color coordinated J.Garcia tie. I put a silver pocket watch in my right pants pocket. I also put something special in my inside coat pocket.
    We left with a little time on our hands, so we moseyed around the shops and had a couple more pictures taken, which we did not buy, and went to dinner.
    We may have gone down to the photo area and played "who can find the picture of us first game." I always loose.
    Tonight was Venetian night, and I looked forward to it, just like all the nights. We sat down and noticed that the younger newlyweds were not present. Wanich, who always addressed us by our first names, gave us a cheerful greeting and made his recommendations. We ordered a bottle of red wine, Mondavi, I think. I don't like red, but I liked this one. I ordered the tomato salad, roasted garlic soup, and went for the steak again. Diane ordered a lamb dish as her main course.
    Everyone went to Labadee except us. Mike and Betty said they wished they had not. Due to the extreme heat they decided to return. They spent more time waiting to board a tender than on the island itself. I commented on how quiet it was around the pool.
    Dessert was great as usual and all of us left a little earlier than usual because we wanted to attend the Crown and Anchor welcome back reception.
    The reception was in Cleopatra's Needle and there were free drinks and chocolate covered strawberries and such. Captain Olsen made a speech and recognized the couple that had made the most cruises with RCCL, one hundred and eleven, and awarded them a big bottle of champagne. Lynn made her Crown and Anchor pitch again. I considered that to be unnecessary since all present were already members. The floor was then opened to questions for the captain; any kind of question.
    I thought this should be interesting. It went something like this:
    Q. How do you spend time with your wife?
    A. How do you spend time with your wife?
    Q. How much money do you make?
    A. Not much but we have great vacations.
    Q. How many miles to the gallon does the ship get?
    A. It doesn't, it gets 55 feet to the gallon of fuel.
    Q. How did you meet your wife from Kentucky?
    A. I meet her on a cruise ship.
    You get the drift, really intelligent questions. From behind me a women jumped up and yelled Tor! And then asked something in what was obviously Norwegian. I looked around and it was the windmill lady. The Captain looked perturbed at the question and answered in English. "No, I have no plans to visit (somewhere) when I return to Norway and that was not my mother asking." The woman let out this huge and I mean huge laugh.
    And that was the end of that. Do not address the Captain by his first name even if you are from the same country.
    It was now time to see Two Funny Guys, I first excused myself to the men's room but that is not where I went.
    I walked back to our seats and took Diane's hand and we went down to deck 3 and sat very close to the stage. We were now in the most crowded section, so I looked longingly at a couple of empty seats in the mezzanine. We did not move. The Two Funny Guys were funny. They came on after Jeffrey made his very funny comments about the Hey Mon, smoke sellers in Jamaica. The Two Funny Guys interacted with the audience, yelled at them for being late, that sort of thing.
    After the show it was back to Cleopatra's Needle for the big Karaoke semi finale competition. We sat down up front right next to the dance floor. The singing started. Diane picked up a song list and started browsing through it while I sat there with my right leg bouncing a mile a minute. I was thirsty and needed some bottled water. I took my coat off, and then I put it back on, and then took it back off. Diane said "are you okay?" Just thirsty. "we can go to the promenade and get some water and come right back" No, I don't want to leave. A few people sang, some good, most bad. After the fifth or sixth person sang, the hostess, Michele I think, asked if Derrick is here. I stood up and walked to the microphone in front of the video prompter. Diane looked shocked. She knew I had no interest in singing a Karaoke song.
    Michele then said for me to tell the audience (the place was packed) my name, where I was from, and what I was doing.
    "Hello, my name is Derrick, I'm from Portsmouth Va. (a big cheer came up from my right) and I am celebrating my 30th anniversary. I would like to sing this song to my wife Diane who is sitting over there". I pointed to her where she was sitting with her shoes off and her feet up on the chair in front of her.
    I then stepped away from the monitor and moved toward her. A big cheer went up. The music started, it was not a Karaoke song, it was music that I had brought myself, a very slow but jazzy ballad called I Just Never Say It Enough, by Wayne Watson.
    I sang to Diane. I looked her in the eyes and never looked away.
    If I called you every time that I think of you, the phone would be ringing all day. I keep thinking these feelings will mellow with time but not yet, no way. We've had our share of heartache and trouble, we can look back and laugh at it now, but a mystery keeps haunting me, how we hurt those we love most somehow, somehow.
    A real love expression is long overdue, so hear my confession of my love for you-I just never say it enough and before it's too late and time's up; you're more than all I dreamed you'd be, an answered prayer, a gift of God above. But I just never say it enough.
    I believe God inhabits the human heart. I believe it more now than ever before and I see His reflection in You, in You and I'm sure, yes I'm sure that a real love expression is long overdue, so hear my confession of my love for you- I just never say it enough…so before it's too late and time's up, you're more than all I dreamed you'd be an answered prayer, a gift of God above.
    But I just never say it enough. I just never say it; I just never say it enough. Nooo, I just never say it, I just never say it enough. Noooo...oh...oh.
    I finished the song, I have sung before at my Church, but never in front of a crowd quite this happy. The all came to their feet and cheered, and it was loud. I put the mike back on the stand, took a little bow and ran over and kissed Diane.
    Michele then told the audience that I was not part of the competition; I just wanted to sing something special for my wife.
    Sometime later a gentleman with a large group won the competition with his great rendition of Proud to be an American. We all cheered for him.
    He was good, but not as good as me. That was Diane's opinion, not mine.
    Karaoke ended and many people came over to congratulate us, including the right side people, who were there from Virginia Beach, thus the reason for the cheer. The man who won said "you had us all crying over here".
    An hour or so later, after a walk and a snack, and a trip to the Vault that did not last long, we went to our cabin and found a cute dog sitting on the bed.
    I knew it was going to be a good day. It turned out better than planned.
    Derrick
  2. -Gramps-
    Saturday morning was sunny, but a bit chilly. Gary and I broke camp and pulled in our slides. He had not put his main one out because it just did not work smoothly. We discovered, the night before, that my main slide had a fraying cable so it would not be deployed for our second night. This would make the interior of the coach a bit tight but that was the breaks so to speak.
    The night before, while Gary and I were repairing my bedroom slide out topper/telephone pole mishap we had a visitor from Ohio who was also staying in the campground. He happened to see me on top of a ladder that was on top of a picnic table with my arms under the topper. We told him the whole sad story and he told us that the campground staff had warned him about that pole when he made his reservation. We received no such warning. He also warned us that we would not like the stretch of Interstate 77 between Beckley and twenty miles past Charleston. He informed us the traffic would be intolerable.
    While all this chatting was going on the ladies decided on our Saturday itinerary. Get up; get out on the road with Canton, Ohio being our next stop for the night. First would be brunch at Tamarack. This was the place that Diane had wanted to revisit for many years. She had been there once before during an auto cross country trip from Oregon to Virginia that she made with her cousin Elaine and two greyhounds. It is a very nice marketplace for area craftspeople and it has a restaurant run by the Greenbrier, a famous West Virginia five star resort. Also Saturday the tenth was her birthday and we all felt that a stop there was a small present but it was what she wanted.
    We called it a night. I tried to eat a bowl of soup but my phone keep ringing off the hook with customer calls. I thought that calling me after eight pm on a Friday night was a bit ridiculous. I kept telling them to call me back on Monday.
    The next morning, right after we all sang Happy Birthday to Diane, Gary and I started dumping, disconnecting and rolling hoses up. I did have a problem with the bedroom slide out. The topper would not retract. I pulled the slide in and the topper folded up like a fan. I put it back out and pulled my ladder back out of the basement. I climbed up and opened the topper cover and gave the roller a bit of a spin. It made a snapping noise and wound up quickly, like a window shade let go of too fast. It retracted just fine after that and I never had another bit of trouble with it.
    The ladies drove our cars back to the mine country store parking lot. Gary and I secured our campsites; we had to attach cables and locks. Then we carefully drove our coaches down the steep hill and made a right turn at the bottom. We met up with our cars and hooked them up. A few minutes later we were on our way. We made a left turn, back up the road carefully past the offending pole and then to the main street through town.
    We had good directions to Tamarack. It was a quick journey of a couple of miles, located right next to I-77 at exit 45. It's red peaked roof made it easy to spot. Tamarack has a huge bus and rv friendly parking lot. That is a good thing when you are suffering from post pole collision syndrome. (At breakfast I attempted to make some jokes about the telephone guy hitting the telephone pole but no one thought they were all that funny, including me).
    Tamarack was great. I was impressed. There were so many fine crafts there. Handmade baskets, quilts, glass etching, textiles and photography were all on display and for sale. We could see that it would take some time to eyeball it all and we were hungry so we walked over to the food court. They served cafeteria style. I glanced at the menu and saw what I wanted right away, the West Virginia Rainbow Trout and Eggs.
    The good sized trout filet was pan fried with two eggs over easy and served with Home Fried Taters and the biggest fluffiest biscuit I have ever eaten. It was really good. Along with the fish and eggs I had a bottle of hot and spicy V-8.
    Gary ordered the same thing and the ladies each had the Appalachian Omelet with fried green tomatoes (in the omelet), Red Eye Country ham and Swiss Cheese. It also came with home fries and Biscuits all for 4.95. They raved about it.
    Breakfast was worth every dime. After eating it was time for some exploring. First though I got a call from my parents asking where we were. I told them our location and also let them know that we hoped to be at our place in Galax by the following Wednesday or Thursday at the latest. We hoped to have a visit with them at some point.
    I also made a call to Joel. He was having a yard sale, at our home, with proceeds going towards medical bills he received for treatment of a dislocated finger. That happened during a soccer game. If you ever dislocate a finger do not go to a hospital emergency room. Find an Urgent care or just put up with the pain until you can see a doctor. An emergency room will sock it to you cost wise. Some of the proceeds of the yard sale would also go towards funding the band he is a member of. Joel is the drummer, the band is called Long Division and they just self released a CD.
    You can sample the album by clicking here:
    http://www.longdivisionband.com/
    The yard sale seemed to be going well. The band had made over 250 dollars by ten thirty. By the end of the day they would make 450 dollars.
    I found this out while we were walking around Tamarack looking at all their great craftwork.
    Around noon we were ready to continue our journey. We headed up I-77 and I mean up, to Parkersburg where we stopped for fuel. From there we continued to Clearwater RV Park in Uniontown, Ohio. It was quite the drive. We crossed the New River Gorge over the bridge that is famous for its wild bungee jumping. We traveled through Charleston. We made some wild stops to pay tolls and had some interesting encounters with slow moving truckers.
    At our exit for the rv park we had to make a right turn at the bottom of the exit ramp. Two cars in the left turn lane turned right instead and swung around Gary, who was leading us. The cars went into the oncoming traffic lane and then moved over and cut him off. It always amazes me how non thinking drivers believe our rigs can stop on a dime.
    We traveled without any more incidents down a long hilly country road until we reached the rv park. The park had a small water park that was not open yet. There was also a mini golf course. We parked our rigs, set up camp, had a nice talk with the park manager and then played a round of golf. The birthday girl won. After that I fired up my grill and toasted some hamburgers.
    We sat in Gary and Janis' coach and ate dinner while we chatted about our list of things we hoped to accomplish in Elkhart. The List of things included repairs as well as places we wanted to see. Top of our list of places to visit was the RV Hall of Fame.
    By nine we were all ready to call it a night. Diane and I avoided spending too much time in the too small living area (it was full of slide out) and decided to watch TV in the bedroom. I had recently installed a new 26 inch LCD and I figured that watching some old episodes of Christy would be a good way to end day two.
    I never saw the end of the episode. After about twenty minutes I was out cold. I woke up at the end of it. Diane missed it as well. So it was time for lights out. We wanted to get an early start. We hoped to be at Elkhart by late afternoon.
    Both coaches were getting anxious. So were the people in them.
  3. -Gramps-

    Better Than New!

    By -Gramps-,

    Click on any thumbnail above to see a lot more pictures!
    Gary, Janis, Diane and I are good friends. We travel together and we both own the same coach. It is a Holiday Rambler Vacationer XL, model 38PLT built on the Workhorse UFO chassis. The UFO has the engine in the rear and it is gas not diesel. We get a lot of comments when we pull into a campground together or separately.
    For example:
    "Man, your coach sure is quiet, what's wrong with it?"
    (Nothing)
    "Well, it sure is a funny sounding Diesel."
    (That's because it isn't a diesel, it's a gas pusher.)
    "No Way! Nobody makes one of those!"
    (Well, Holiday Rambler made mine.)
    "Are you sure it's gas?"
    (Well, it was the last time I filled the tank.)
    "Man I have never seen one of these going down the road."
    (You may have, you just didn't know it.)
    "That's crazy, a gas pusher? Where's the engine in it?"
    (Ahhh...I think it's in the rear.)
    Is this that UFO thing I have heard about?
    (Why, yes it is!)
    "What is a UFO anyway?"
    (It is a diesel coach that runs on gas.)
    Jeff Daniels says "Always remember and never forget; you're not a real American till you've been behind the wheel of a Recreational Vehicle."
    I agree with that but let me add this: People sure think you are an odd American when you tell them your Recreational Vehicle's gas engine is in the rear. Even the techs in Elkhart thought we were an unusual group of coach travelers. Personally, I think one of our coaches should be in the Elkhart RV Hall of Fame one day. We have been there and I know just where they can park it.
    Better Than New! Pilgrimage to Elkhart Days 5 and 6
    Tuesday morning came early. It was cloudy and cold. Gary and I had our coaches ready for their short trip to the service bays by seven twenty. Roger and Walt were there to pick them up ten minutes later.
    We told the guys how pleased we were with their work so far. I asked Roger if he would repair the second hole in the bathroom floor, and he said he would. He had cut a piece of vinyl from the floor inside the plumbing compartment next to the washer dryer to fix the first rip. That was a small square. He wanted to replace a whole section this time. I felt sure he could figure out something.
    I also added recalibrating my leveling system, and would they please inspect the roof (another thing I forgot to tell them the day before. It seems I misplaced my list and was going from memory).
    Walt told us that Ed from BAL still had some work to do on the slide outs and that Tim Belle the tech support manager wanted to meet with us in about an hour. I had had a number of very helpful phone conversations with Tim and was looking forward to meeting him in person.
    Roger hopped into the drive's seat. I asked him what he thought of the UFO chassis.
    "Yesterday I almost started it twice. I noticed that the tack was moving so I didn't, it's just amazing how quiet it is." He said
    I told Roger that I often turn up the rear camera microphone to listen to the engine.
    I have almost started the engine twice myself. I can only imagine what kind of terrible grinding noise that would cause. I hope I never hear it.
    Our rigs were moved back over to the service bays. I informed the ladies they would have to wait in the car, if they didn't want to wait inside because we needed to meet with JD and Tim and I wanted to take some pictures as well. That was all right with them.
    Gary and I walked over to the shop to see JD Adams, the manager of ESC. JD had talked to us both on the phone and I meet him briefly the morning before. He met us in the shop and introduced us to Rod and Mike, whom we had not met yet. We then went into Gary's coach where Ed from BAL was hard at work on Gary's main slide out.
    We chatted with him and with the other guys until Tim arrived. Tim told us what they had done so far which included installing new cables, all new standoffs (the bracket on the outside of the slide out that the cable attaches to.) and most important a bigger high torque motor that would move the big slide out much faster. What they planned to do today was change the seals on the outside. We told him how much we appreciated it.
    Walt had some questions about repairing Gary's basement door, and Roger had already started repairing my bathroom floor.
    I could have hovered around there for a long time watching these guys work.
    It is easy for me to loose track of time when I am with a bunch of technical guys. With my wife and the dog just sitting in the car on a cold morning; I could loose enough time to get myself in trouble. I suggested to Gary we take pictures and then rescue the ladies.
    We took pictures and then rescued the ladies. Diane was sitting and shivering with the car engine running. She was looking more than a little cold.
    "You okay?"
    "Yeeesss," she said with chattering teeth. "Can we get going now?"
    "Sure, the museum doesn't open until ten anyway so we would have just been sitting there."
    "I'm okay."
    I was relieved to see she wasn't obviously upset with me.
    Just before we pulled out, our neighbor from Quebec pulled in, truck and trailer. I didn't even notice he was gone. Before he could get more than a few feet off the road his truck died. He had pulled his fifth wheel around to the other side of the service building to fill his water tank.
    Well, Gary and I couldn't just leave him stranded like that so we spent the next fifteen minutes trying to jump his truck and get it moving again. We started it, but it wouldn't run long. He had to unhitch the trailer and move the truck to where he could plug in a trickle charger.
    That was the best we could do for him, so we headed off for the Elkhart RV/MH Hall of Fame Museum and Conference Center.
    Just for your information the MH stands for Manufactured Housing not motorhome.
    When it came to sightseeing in Elkhart, this was the highlight of the whole trip.
    We were the first people through the door that morning. JD had given us three free passes and we expected to pay for one ticket but the two gentlemen curator/guides who met us at the door said that would not be necessary. We signed the visitor's registry and the self guided tour began.
    The museum is divided into four main halls. One is the supplier's hall, the Go RVing hall which has new rigs on display and the RV Founders and Ingram Halls which have a fantastic collection of antique housecars and house trailers.
    Diane and I visited the supplier's hall first. There we found displays of towing equipment, RV appliances, including some that are also residential, along with displays from RV clubs and campgrounds. There was also one from Workhorse. It was a display of the UFO chassis. Of course I had to gravitate toward it. There was a video that I watched that showed some of the first people who drove the chassis and the first owners. I found it fascinating. I had to tell Diane about it so I went to get her. She walked over, looked at the video for about ten seconds.
    "That's nice" she said. "Let's go look for Gary and Janis."
    Feeling somewhat deflated, I followed her to the Go RVing hall. I walked past everything and went straight to the Damon Avanti that was parked near the front window. It is a small Class A with Euro Styling and is powered by a front engine Navistar diesel engine. Nice rig, but we didn't look at it for long. Next we visited the Founders Hall.
    I was amazed at the assortment of Motor Houses. I looked at the older towables but I really wanted to spend more time looking at the motorized rvs. I was impressed the most by the Mae West Mobile and the Tennessee Traveler with its pot bellied "furnace". I know that most of us are used to a lot of comfort. I have to wonder what earlier House Car-ers, who drove with their backsides resting on wooden benches would think of our plush seats and air ride. I bet they would think we are all a bunch of motor homing weenies.
    We left the museum sometime around twelve thirty. I remember because I took a phone call just before we left and I noted the time. It was the only one I had the whole day. A miracle!
    Our next stop was Das Dutchman Essenhaus in Middlebury. It is this large complex with an Amish style restaurant, an inn, shops, and bakery. They serve lunch home style; some may call it country style. We had about a half hours drive to get there, because we planned on taking the scenic route trough Amish country. We arrived forty minutes later and ready to eat.
    The restaurant is a huge place. It must seat three hundred people or more. There was hardly anyone there. I guess the tourist season had not geared up yet. We told our server we were there for the home style lunch. She informed us that would include fried chicken, home made egg noodles, green beans, mash potatoes and gravy, corn and our choice of pot roast or ham. We chose the pot roast.
    It wasn't the best country style food I have eaten. That distinction is a toss up between the food served at the Daniel Boone Inn in Boone North Carolina or a little hole in the wall called Lazy Susan's in Spruce Pine North Carolina. As I said it wasn't the best but is was still very good. For desert I had fresh strawberry pie with ice cream, of course.
    After lunch we explored the place a bit. It had this big meandering country store that took up the four outside walls of the inn. We also visited some other shops and climbed the stairs to the top of a grain silo that had been converted into an observation deck.
    Sometime around three thirty, quarter to four we were ready to head back to Elkhart.
    We took the interstate back so it was a rather quick trip. Once again our coaches were parked in their spots, power connected, jacks down and slides out. Once inside, I soon discovered that my tank was full of water. I would not have been surprised to find mints on our pillows.
    The bathroom floor looked perfect. I went outside the coach to check the main slide sweeps. They had been replaced. I checked the roof and saw that my big bedroom skylight had been resealed. There were a couple of other spots that looked like they had been touched up as well.
    I visited Gary's coach and we inspected the work done on his slide outs. We could tell that Ed had extended a couple of cables instead of replacing them. Gary and I had talked about doing this a couple of times ourselves. However, we were not confident in how to go about it or what type of connector to use. Now we knew, but of course we hoped we would not have a reason to do it. Gary told me that Walt had blocked off a heating vent behind his loveseat. The hot air trapped itself back there and was virtually baking the couch so at Gary's request Walt took care of it.
    We had given the techs a long list of things to do. It appeared they had done them all and they repaired the damage from my encounter with the telephone pole.
    It was obvious that after two days with ESC our coaches were now better than new.
    The four of us visited for awhile, talking about the trip and what we had accomplished so far. We were all in agreement that it had been worth the journey, no doubt about that. The last thing we discussed was what time to leave in the morning. I said we can't leave too early, not until we pay our bills.
    I had my doubts about coming to Elkhart, it was a long way there and I always get nervous about leaving my business for long stretches of time. Of course I never really leave my business; it follows me wherever I go, but I was sure glad we made the trip.
    I knew that I had a good coach, and now with its many problems fixed, I could start to really enjoy it.
    Diane and I ended our evening by driving to the Elkhart Riverwalk Park. The park runs right beside the river, on both sides, and twists itself around for two miles. It is a great place to stretch one's legs and that is just what we did. Nickolas loves to take walks like this and he led the whole time. Diane and I talked Galax. We looked forward to being back there in just a couple of days. We talked about the trip, things back at home, just simple stuff that old married couples, who travel in a motor home, chat about.
    By dark we were back at the coach. After dropping Diane and Nickolas off at the door. I drove to a dollar store to buy some bottled water. While there I purchased a set of sheets, after calling Diane to ask her about them, some snacks and a few housekeeping items.
    While paying for my goods, I struck up a conversation with the young lady cashier. She had seen our coaches come down the street. She also told me her husband was a framer for one of the trailer makers. They were very busy. They had an order for 700 rigs and were working overtime to get them done. I thought that was great news. I hoped that the class A market would soon do as good.
    Back in the coach, Nickolas and I shared a bag of kettle cooked potato chips while watching NCIS. Not long after that it was bed time. Tomorrow it was back on the road. We would be stopping at a KOA somewhere near Canton, Ohio and we hoped to be out of Elkhart around nine.
    Day 6
    As usual Gary and I were up early. We were getting our coaches ready to hit the road. Gary had hooked up his tow car the night before. I was under the hood of my car pulling the ignition fuse which is the last thing I do when I tow the car. As I was closing the hood Roger walked up.
    "Are you guys leaving now?" he asked. "I hope not, because we aren't quite done with your coaches yet."
    They still needed to change my rigs oil. The day before, due to supplier problems the shop couldn't get the correct filter, but it was being delivered this morning. Gary's coach still had a wiper park failure error code. Walt hoped to get that cleared up this morning as well.
    Gary and I both figured that we came here to get things fixed so let the guys keep on working.
    About an hour and a half later my oil was changed and my bill was paid. During the time my coach was being worked on, JD, Gary and I were sitting in JD's office just shooting the breeze. I learned that JD had helped set up the Monaco service facility in Wildwood, Florida, then transferred to Elkhart where he worked for Monaco both in the coach and towable divisions. As the economy started to put holes in Monaco's ship, he was asked to come to ESC and had been there a good while by the time Gary and I first started talking to him. I also found out that ESC shared its facilities with a graphics company that custom painted new coaches. What that meant was that for the most part ESC could take care of about anything.
    Walt came in and mentioned that they were having trouble clearing Gary's wiper park failure alarm. They had done what the Workhorse techs had suggested which was to disconnect the chassis battery, do some kind of ground, and then connect it. I suggested that they call a service manager at Workhorse and ask him for help. His name is Eric and I have him on my speed dial. He knows more about the UFO then anybody I know.
    I think JD was a little skeptical that a regional rep would take his call. I told him to tell Eric that Gramps said to call him. So he made the call and I could tell that Eric answered. JD said that Gramps said to call, and I could tell that JD got a pretty good response from Eric. They talked for awhile and the conclusion was that the coach really needed to go to a Workhorse Service Center where they would have the latest and greatest diagnostic software. We all agreed that would be the best thing to do. At that point Eric asked to speak to me. We had a pleasant catching up kind of conversation. I told him the coach was working great and the guys at ESC were really taking good care of us. Eric was actually going through airport security somewhere and we made plans to talk again.
    Roger let us know that he was finished with my coach.
    We said our good byes. I once again hooked up my tow car and we were on the road again.
    That was it. Our coaches were now in really great shape. Gary had the wiper problem, but that will be fixed eventually. Later there was one thing that Diane wished we had asked the guys to do. She would like to fasten hinges to the solid stove top covers so that they could just be folded back when needed and not be a falling hazard. (See my blog about turkey soup).
    We would like to make a trip to Elkhart again. When we do we will be visiting JD and his crew. I don't think they will have any problem with taking care of Diane's wish.
    We drove until lunch time and stopped at a Flying J's for sandwiches and gas. Not too many hours after that we drove back into the hills behind Canton Ohio and soon we were at the local KOA. It was in a remote spot but it was also a very scenic spot. We sat up camp and Gary fired up his grill. We cooked hot dogs and sausages. We used the coals to start a camp fire. We just sat there staring at the fire and counting the stars. All of us were thankful that it had been such a successful trip.
    The next day would find us splitting up our little caravan. Gary and Janis would head east on I-64 to Charlottesville while Diane and I would stay on I-77 to Galax. I looked forward to that. I wanted to relax and play some golf, actually a lot of golf. I had a new to me set of clubs. Diane and I also wanted to visit with my parents and see our friends again.
    But that is another story.
  4. -Gramps-
    It has been a year, this week, since I started blogging here at FMCA.com. Boy, time sure flies when you are having stress. I have had a boat load of just that over the last year, I am talking about stress.
    It started building up more than usual around Christmas 2008 after I realized something was physically very wrong with Mike, my friend and business partner. By late March he was gone. Many of you know the story. He "passed over," to use that innocuous phrase, just after our trip to the FMCA convention in Perry, Georgia.
    After the rally we traveled on down to Florida to visit my daughter, her husband and new son.
    It was a good thing that I was away with family when Mike died. I don't think I could have handled witnessing Mike's last few moments alive in the hospital. During some of our last phone conversations, it was usually me who broke down and cried. Mike didn't care for that at all. He was always joking and kept telling me that he would be okay. I couldn't figure out if he was trying to reassure me or if he was just in denial. I guess it was a bit of both. I didn't want to loose him. We had been friends for twenty years. I didn't like looking at what my future would be without him. It didn't look good to me all.
    I was partially right. It hasn't been all good so far, but it could have been a whole lot worse if not for this site.
    On March first of last year I stumbled upon the FMCA forums. I joined and wrote some kind of blurb introducing Diane and myself. The next thing I knew I had an e-mail asking if we would take a profile survey, which we did. Not long after that, we were on the home page in the Meet the Member feature. I didn't realize at the time that this was a rather new Web site and it, just like my motorhome, was about to improve my life in many ways.
    That brings me to the purpose of this one-year blog entry.
    To say thanks. I want to thank Todd of the FMCA.com staff for making this blog and the good things it has done possible.
    I want to thank Gary and Janis, who googled "38PLT UFO," found our FMCA profile, made a phone call, and soon became great close friends. They have helped me make it through this last year. Diane and I wouldn' know what to do without you.
    I would also like to take this time to remind all my friends here of my Five Rules for Owning a Motor Coach.
    It never hurts to have a review.
    1. Owning a motor coach improves one's life ... if you let it.
    2. Keep your temper on a very short leash, because when you own a motor coach patience is not only a virtue but a necessity.
    3. Enjoy the view! Don't be in a hurry to get there, wherever there is. It isn't just the destination that matters; the journey is good for you, too.
    4. Owning a motor coach is a never-ending learning experience.
    5. Always remember rule number one.
    These rules are important. Forgetting them has consequences, and they are not pleasant ones. All of the rules have a flip side. A motorhome can make you miserable ... if you let it.
    If you don't keep your temper on a short leash, what do you think will happen? I threw a walkie-talkie against my garage door once. Don't ask why. I will tell you that I remember that display of behavior every time I use that scratched-up radio. I was able to put it back together after it flew apart. I learned from that experience. If I quit learning, I will just make more mistakes.
    If you have not read my archived entries about these rules why not take the time to do so?
    You might just learn something about yourself in the process.
    In closing, I have enjoyed my year here. I hope that all my readers, however many, have gotten something positive from my little blog.
    Thanks for viewing.
    There will be more.
    Derrick
    AKA "Gramps"
  5. -Gramps-

    A bit about Wi-Fi

    By -Gramps-,

    It's been awhile since I blogged and a lot has happened since the 23rd of May or whenever it was since I last posted.
    I say a lot has happened, but not really. Diane, Nickolas and myself traveled to our spot at Deer Creek Motorcoach resort, the one in Galax, Virginia, not Florida. Barry, the owner and developer, asked me to point that out.
    While there, I did my best to improve my golf game and beef up our Wi-Fi. The golfing was fun ... more about that later.
    A bit about our Wi-Fi.
    It is not an easy thing to do, cover an area the size of a driving range, which is what Deer Creek used to be, and allow owners to log on from inside their coaches. Most stock Wi-Fi devices, be it a router or access point (it's a bit complicated to explain the difference), cover a 100-foot radius well.
    I am not trying to cover a radius at Deer Creek. I am trying to project the signal in a half circle uphill with some coaches sitting higher than the one in front of it. In a few spots a coach blocks the line of sight of the coach behind it to the Wi-Fi router. I fixed this by adding a third access point with a high gain antenna on the roof of the clubhouse. This plugged my coverage holes, but still I need a bit more punch to get to the far corners of the resort. That will be fixed by adding an inline antenna amplifier to the mix.
    That will be taken care of during our next trip out there. As well as making a change to beef up "Internal security."
    Let's talk about public Wi-Fi for just a minute. A lot of RV parks, including the one next to Deer Creek Motorcoach resort, offer free Wi-Fi. Some of these networks are unsecured, meaning you don't have to have a password, or network key, as it sometimes called, to get onto it. If it does require a security key, the only thing that key does is keep some people without one from getting onto it. Let me tell you something else that the key may not do. It will not protect you from other people in the campground, or at some other public Wi-Fi who are logged on with you.
    Public Wi-Fi works a bit on the honor system.
    You could be sitting at a restaurant logged on to a hotspot with an encryption key and thinking you are as safe as if you were on your home network. However, the person two tables over could be looking through your files. You see, if you have your computer set up to share a printer and or files, you could be exposed. You should turn off printer and file sharing when you don't know if you are connected to a network with client security.
    Vista and Windows 7 will ask if you are connecting to a public hotspot and will turn that feature off if you tell it to. Xp also will let you turn off file and printer sharing, but you have to know where to go to do that.
    I know what most of you are thinking: I don't use file and printer sharing, and I renamed my Windows workgroup, so that helps secure me also.
    The first part is mostly correct. The second part isn't. Renaming your workgroup to something else doesn't help at all. Renaming only hides computers near you from showing up in a certain screen and keeps you from showing up on other XP computers. But, and this is important, if you know where to look other users still can be found. The connection is still there.
    It comes down to this. Most public hotspots are provided by the use of small, inexpensive routers and access points, most of which do not provide isolation from one user to another and it is up to you to look after yourself.
    If you have a network in your coach with multiple users, it becomes a bit harder to do this. If you disable printer and file sharing, your laptop will no longer talk to your desktop, or you and your spouse can't communicate, and your laptops won't communicate to each other. To fix that you may need to get your own wireless router and set it up to repeat the public signal. That way you stay logged on to your own network and you can isolate it from the rest of the RV park.
    RV parks spend more time trying to get coverage and keep unwanted people off their WI-FI network as opposed to trying to protect their guests from each other.
    Remember this: When it comes to public Wi-Fi you have to look after yourself.
    Maybe that should be a rule!
  6. -Gramps-
    One of the things that is on my Motor Coach Bucket List is to travel to as many Major League baseball parks as I can.
    I love the game of baseball. Like motor coaching, baseball has many metaphors for life. I have loved the game much, much longer than I have loved the rving lifestyle.
    I have been to a number of major league games. My first one was a weekday night game in late spring of 1989. It was the first home game of the Cincinnati Reds after the Pete Rose Scandal hit the news. There was another big story about him on the day of the game. Although he was a player as well as the manager of the Reds, he never came out of the team's dugout the whole night.
    The Reds were playing the Mets that night. The highlight of the game for me was a high and hard Darryl Strawberry foul ball that landed a few rows behind me, bounced off an empty seat then careened off the left arm of my seat and landed in a bucket of popcorn belonging to a young lady a few levels below me.
    I still regret not catching that ball that the young lady never saw coming. I know she never knew what hit her by the volume of her scream as the ball knocked the bucket off her lap while scattering popcorn over everyone seated next to her.
    I would have liked to take that ball home to Joel, my four year old son.
    Nine years later, Joel, then thirteen, my oldest daughter Christine, her then husband Brent, Diane and I were sitting just above the left outfield wall at Yankee Stadium. We were munching on hero sandwiches and drinking ginger ale as the Yankees played the White Sox.
    We got a kick out of the Yankee fans heckling left fielder Albert Belle, at that time the highest paid player in baseball.
    The sound of "ALbert...ALbert!" coming from some forty thousand voices at the same time made it pretty obvious that he was not popular in New York.
    We got a bigger kick witnessing then Yankee Darryl Strawberry hit not one, but two, two out-two strike home runs.
    The shouts of "DAR-RYL DAR-RYL!" from the same forty thousand voices made it obvious that he was very popular in New York.
    The Yankees won that night. You got to love the Yankees. You got to love their fans even more. Some may argue, but I believe the Yankees have the best fans in the world.
    Two days earlier we were at a night game in Philadelphia.
    The Phillies were still playing at the old hot and stuffy Veteran's stadium. The Braves were in town and I swear there were more fans rooting for them than for the Phillies. After watching the way Philadelphia played that night, I understood why.
    In 1998 it was hard to love them Phillies.
    In 1997 Joel, Diane and I attended a Baltimore Orioles game and watched Cal Ripken keep his teammates entertained during a rain delay. The Orioles were playing Oakland. Mark McGwire was a member of the A's then and what a batting practice display he put on that day. In just a few weeks he would be traded to the St Louis Cardinals and go on to lead the majors with 58 home runs that year.
    Before the game Joel and I visited the Babe Ruth Museum. That is a place you should not miss when in Baltimore.
    In 1998 I was at an Arizona Diamondbacks home game and watched Randy Johnson, throwing a lot of nasty side arm sliders, strike out fourteen Padres in a row and hit a standup double. It goes without saying that he won that game.
    May 24th 1998 Diane, Joel, Christine, Brent, and I were sitting in the mezzanine section of Shea Stadium watching the New York Mets play the Milwaukee Brewers. At eleven that morning the game was sold out. It was the first Mets sell-out since the last time they were National League East champs ten years earlier. The reason for the sellout was that this was the first home game of the newest Mets player...Mike Piazza. History says that it took some time for Mets fans to warm up to their new catcher. Not so. They loved him from the first moment they saw him on the field just taking questions from news people. The first time he came up to bat, the place went berserk. It was the beginning of a seven year relationship that included two playoffs, one pennant and a World Series against the Yankees. And I was there with my family when it started.
    All these games were great. A couple of them had some real history being made. But none of them were as exciting to me as a game that I was at one hot Saturday in June of 1996.
    It was the game between the Phillies and the Giants. Not the big league ones. This game was a battle between the Phillies and the Giants of the Churchland Little League.
    Joel, my son, was on the Phillies.
    I was the manager of his team.
    I had some experience coaching a team before I took on the job of managing the Phillies. I found out that some experience was better than none but not a whole lot. The part I didn't know about was that managing was a full time job even when you have a full time job. I spent many evenings at practice, putting together my lineup, calling parents to remind them of the Saturday game and where it would be and at what time and most importantly; making sure of who would be there. All this was in addition to giving my son individual Dad time. I threw a lot of batting practice pitches to him in the big grassy church lot next to our house. I also caught a lot of pitches from him in our back yard.
    I tried to be a pretty laid back coach. Winning was not the most important thing to me. Helping my players do their best and make their best better was my goal. I figured if I did that then we would win, hopefully a lot, of games as a result.
    I had four rules for my players.
    Be on time for practices and games.
    Trust the coach.
    When behind don't give up.
    When ahead don't let up.
    That was it.
    I thought that with those rules that all involved would have fun.
    I had to pick up players, drive them to practices and to the games. This was the part of managing that got to me the most. Chris, my catcher, lived with his single mom. She worked very long hours and so it fell upon me to drive to his home, pick him up, take him to practice, and bring him back to our house for dinner. If I didn't do that he would end up at home, alone, eating Fruit Loops or something just as healthy.
    Chris was twelve years old, tall for his age, with bright blond hair, blue eyes, and a handsome face that turned red quick from exposure to the sun. He had a fast swing and a faster temper to go with it.
    Chris resented being on the Phillies. He really didn't like being "down here with the little squirts" to use his words. He gave the impression that the only reason that he was playing was because his mother wanted him to. I didn't believe that to be the only reason. I could tell that he loved the game, although he felt he was out of the league he should have been in.
    You see, Churchland Little League was divided into three divisions; T-Ball, Minor League, which was comprised of teams made up of mostly eight to ten year olds, and the major league, which had ten to twelve year old players. The idea was that the Major League players were ones with a bit more skill. From the major league teams came all our All Stars. The All Stars would make up the dream team that would play in the district tournaments and then if successful go on to the Little League World Series.
    That is the way it was supposed to work, but in reality the coaches sons, and players that coaches really liked, or friends of the coaches sons, or sons of the coaches friends, you get the picture, ended up in the majors and on the All Star teams no matter how good they were or were not. Every now and then an "exceptional" minor league player could get called up to one of major league teams if a spot became available.
    Chris was a good player, better than most, but he had no one to go to bat for him. He had no father to be seen. His mother moved around a lot so even though he had played some organized baseball before, no one in Churchland knew him, so he was never considered for the majors, and being that this was his last year of eligibility to play he was unlikely to be called up.
    As I said, Chris was a good player. He had no fear of the ball at all. Most of my players would back out of the box as soon as the pitcher released the ball. They rarely swung at a pitch. Right handed Chris crowded the plate. His size scared the opposing players, especially the pitcher. Chris gave a look that dared any pitcher to throw it anywhere near the plate. If they did he would quickly smash the ball. He would smash it long and high over the third base side into the outfield. Unfortunately it was the outfield of the T-ball field which made that screaming hit a foul ball.
    The coaches of the T-ball teams didn't care for unseen round white orbs raining down on their dirt kicking outfielders. More than once they told me to do something about it. I asked one coach if he would like me to shout "Fore!" when Chris comes up to bat. He called me a wise guy.
    I did want to do something about it believe me.
    Over dinner I would try to coach his attitude, tell him to not crowd the plate. He had a long reach. Give the pitcher some room and he would get a good pitch to hit.
    I moved him back in the box and told him to wait before swinging and to go for the outside pitch.
    When Chris hit one into fair territory, it was usually a line drive that went like it was shot out of a cannon right at third base or to the shortstop position sometimes resulting in an injury to the unfortunate kid who tried to knock it down and extra bases for Chris.
    Soon the pitchers for the other teams, on coach's orders, all started pitching away from him. This frustrated Chris even more and he started swinging at junk, hitting more fouls and finding himself in many 0 and 2 counts. I told him to take more first pitches. He would try, and he could get the count to 3 and 2, but a sharp pitcher would take advantage of him and he would end up with a backwards K next to his name on the score sheet.
    After hitting two fouls, looking at three balls, looking at a third strike, he would turn even redder in the face, and if he could have he would have broken his aluminum bat in half.
    He wanted more than to just hit the ball. He wanted that big major league home run. He wanted to prove that he should be up there with the big boys.
    He wasn't the only one.
    Joel was my closer and played second base and shortstop when needed. He batted right handed in the forth position so he was my clean up man in more ways than one. He was patient. Joel would drive the other pitchers crazy because he instinctively sat back in the box and waited. He would take pitches that he knew were balls and foul off the pitches that he knew were borderline. Chris was doing great to get six pitches. Joel would get eight, eleven, or more and still walk, but most of the time it only took one to get on base.
    If the ball was close to the plate, Joel was swinging for first base. He would take the knob to the ball and punch it where the infield defense was the weakest and then use his speed to beat it out to first. He was so fast that the infielder would rush, juggle the ball or make a bad throw, and Joel would usually end up at second, if not third.
    Soon pitchers tried to throw around him as well. But it didn't matter, Joel walked when he wanted to and if the pitch was reachable he used his great bat speed to take it to the opposite field. If it was an inside pitch, he tucked his hips in, leaned back and then pulled it to left.
    They could not keep him off the base paths when he got on. His attitude was two bases are always better than one.
    When it came to pitching, Joel was one of the most accurate pitchers on the mound, major or minor. He threw strikes. Worse yet for the batters he faced, he threw inside strikes. The problem was, that chased the batters out of the box and young umpires would lose their reference and call a ball. This bugged Joel. He knew the umpires up in the majors would not do this to him, but he learned to adjust. He would throw low to the back corner of the plate and get the batters to chase and if they were not swingers, just throw hard and fast right down the middle.
    Most of the time Chris was his catcher and he knew how to catch a pitch and make it look pretty.
    Both of those boys could have played with the big kids.
    We won a lot of games as the season progressed. Three games we lost by one run. The third game of the season was our first loss. We got killed thirteen to nothing. For some reason, I think it was a muddy field, we had to play on the T-ball field with a bad pitcher's mound. Unlike the other team (The First Place Mets) we could not adjust.
    My team was upset with that loss. I was upset because they gave up on me three innings in. I did not scold them. Instead I had them all over to my house on practice night for some Nintendo Home Run Derby. My plan was to get some bats moving that usually stayed still.
    It worked. The kids had a great time. They competed against each other. Boys who had poor timing found out that they could swing and hit a virtual ball. I told them that if they could hit what the computer tossed at them, they could hit what a pitcher threw. They just needed to decide to do it. I also reminded them of rules three and four. To make it easier to remember, those rules would now be rule one and two.
    Before each game I would give my little pep talk about teamwork and strategy and then ask my two questions.
    "What's rule number one?!"
    "DON'T GIVE UP!"
    "What's rule number two?"
    "DON'T LET UP!"
    We won our next six games.
    Many years later, after one of the other coaches of the Mets became a next door neighbor, I found out that the Phillies had a reputation for being relentless. I was told that other coaches thought we were mean because we pounded the other team. We never let up on them. We didn't. I told my boys that life is like baseball or vice versa, play fair but play hard. Don't cheat to win but make the other guy beat you, and never surrender. When you lose, and you most likely will, you still have no reason to feel bad if you did your very best. My team took all that to heart and always played like we were one run ahead or one behind.
    By game fourteen out of sixteen, we were 11 and 3.
    Game fifteen was the Phillies against the Giants.
    I didn't know it then, but this would be Chris's last game. His mother would move again before the month was out.
    Chris still wanted that big home run.
    The rules of Churchland Little League state that all players who show up for the game are in the batting line up for the whole game. Substitutions in the field are unlimited and pitchers can throw for three consecutive innings only, but they can play other positions.
    For this game I had ten players out of thirteen show up. A couple of them, including TJ who normally batted first, arrived late so I shifted my line up one place. Joel was batting in the third slot and Chris in forth. TJ was in the tenth position. I hated not having him at the top of the order during our first at bat. He didn't hit a lot but he didn't flinch either, so he tended to get a lot of walks. Matt, leadoff and my starting pitcher, and CJ were both good hitters. Together they gave Joel a really good chance to hit in some runs.
    The day of the game we were the visitors.
    I can see it in my mind, not like it was yesterday, but like it is right now.
    I watch my players arrive. When the Ump gets there I give him my lineup and a copy to the Giants' coach.
    We do some warm up exercises. Since we are visitors we hit the field for some quick infield practice first.
    After we are done, the Giants take the field for some quick drills and then the starters take their positions.
    It is time to play ball. My summer boys are up first.
    Matt leads off with a first pitch double to center field which he tries to stretch into a triple and gets thrown out. CJ strikes out on a 1 and 2 count. Joel comes up to bat with nobody on and two outs.
    This is not the way I want to start out against the Giants.
    Pitch comes in and Joel takes it to the far right field and runs for first like his life depends on it. He doesn't stop until he is standing on third. His pants are still clean.
    Now it is Chris's at bat. I don't know what to expect. I know that it could get ugly. Joel, standing on third, had better keep his eyes open and not get hit by a rocket.
    Chris takes a vicious swing at the first pitch and misses so hard he spins like a top. The pitcher grins at him. Chris turns a bit redder. Next pitch and Chris knocks an ankle breaker back to the mound. It bounces off the rubber and flies past second as the pitcher jumps. Chris makes it to first, Joel scores.
    Little Jeffery comes up to the plate and manages to take it to a full count before he goes down looking.
    Bottom of the first Phillies 1 Giants 0
    The Giants are a pretty fair team so I am going to play my normal game but take nothing for granted. Before Matt heads to the mound, I tell him and Chris to be smart, no fancy curve balls, just play catch.
    The Giants leadoff batter and Matt get into a classic battle of hitter and pitcher. It goes to a full count with a bunch of foul balls. Matt walks him.
    Okay, he will shake that off. I hope.
    The next two batters both hit to my second baseman. CJ makes two great throws to first.
    Matt now has two outs and starts to get a bit anxious for the third so he throws one in the dirt that Chris can't smother. The runner who was on third makes it home.
    The batter goes down looking with a full count.
    Man, my players sure know how to make a coach anxious.
    Top of the Second, score tied 1 to 1
    Shawn leads off for us. He does not like to stay in the batters box. I cured him by laying bats on the ground behind his heels. If he steps backwards he steps on the bats and takes a fall. I know this seems like a mean technique to cure bat fright but it works. This day he stays right there, never takes a swing but ends up on first.
    Jonathan, Zac, and WC are my next three batters. All three of them strike out. Jonathan and WC go down looking at the third strike. The Giants's pitcher throws nine strikes and three balls. Three of those 12 pitches end up at the backstop allowing Shawn to work his way from first to home.
    Bottom of the second Phillies 2, Giants 1
    Matt walks the lead off batter after a 3-1 count. I am hoping that he will settle down a bit. Chris jogs out to the mound to talk to him.
    I don't know what he said but it works.
    Matt strikes out the next batter, and then takes the second one to a full count before getting him too. The third batter goes down with a backwards K on four pitches.
    Top of the Third we are ahead 2 to 1.
    TJ, last in the lineup, leads off with big stand-up double on a 1 and 0 pitch.
    Now we are back at the top of our batting order.
    Matt takes a ball and then puts a hard grounder back to the mound. He gets thrown out on a not so close play at first but advances the runner.
    CJ is up. He is a smart hitter and almost always takes the first pitch. He does just that this time as well. It is a ball. He smacks the next one to third base, it will be a long throw to first and he beats it out. It is a bad throw that scoots out to right field, CJ pushes it all the way to third while TJ makes it home.
    All my parents are screaming now. Things are getting hot.
    Joel is up, and everyone is yelling at him to bring CJ home. Joel works it to two balls and two strikes and goes down swinging hard.
    Two outs, with a man on third.
    Chris is up and the pitcher just stands there looking. Chris takes a couple of hard practice swings.
    Chris gets five pitches. Two of them are foul balls, one of which takes off behind our dugout, into the woods, never to be seen again. The other one scares the poop out of the T-ball parents sitting in the bleachers on the third base side of the T-ball field. They have their backs to our field and never see what drops from the sky. He takes two balls that are so outside even he doesn't swing at them. The third one that he doesn't swing at is a strike, in the opinion of the umpire anyway, (who, in my opinion must be drunk or blind).
    Chris is really red now. I tell the boys to hit the field.
    Bottom of the Third
    Phillies 3, Giants 1
    Again Matt walks the first batter. This is getting monotonous.
    I once asked my pitchers and players this:
    "What is the most important first pitch in baseball?"
    I got all kinds of answers.
    "Curve."
    "No-fastball, its gotta be a fastball!"
    "Breaking Ball."
    I told them it is a strike. The answer should be obvious. Pitchers need to throw first pitch strikes. I don't care if the batter looks at it, swings and misses it, or fouls it off. I just want the first pitch to be a strike. A pitcher still has the mental advantage, even with a three two count, if the first pitch is a strike.
    Matt has the advantage with the second batter. He throws two strikes and then three balls but the sixth pitch freezes the batter.
    One out, two to go, play is at second.
    The third batter is the same sad story with one different player, another walk. Now the Giants have runners on first and second.
    Hot and Cold Matt, you never know which one is throwing next. The hot one hurls the next five pitches. He gets another one looking.
    Two down, one to go and we are back at the top of the Giants order.
    After the next three pitches, I know Matt is trying to kill me. They are all balls. The batter has the brains to take the next pitch. Matt fires it down the middle for strike one. Next pitch is off the corner on the outside. Chris never moves his glove. The Ump calls it a ball. It looks just like the last strike he called on Chris. As the batter is trotting to first and the bases load, I am reminding myself that it is against the rules to kill an umpire.
    Matt throws a high ball to the next batter, and Chris stands to get it. He tosses it back to the mound while my parents and players are yelling encouraging things to Matt. I could use a few good words myself about now.
    Matt throws a low outside pitch. The batter golfs it back to the mound and it makes this high bounce straight up off that darn rubber. Matt can't field it. Runner is very safe.
    The Third Base runner scores and we still have bases loaded.
    "Play is at any base!" Joel, at short, yells to the rest of the infield.
    My outfielders are asleep, because nothing has gone out there yet.
    Matt fires off another pitch, inside, at the knees of the batter. He hits it right back to Matt who gets it on one bounce and throws to first.
    Thank God, inning over. Joel needs to start warming up.
    Top of the Forth
    Phillies 3, Giants 2
    Little Jeffrey is up again. I can count on one hand the number of times Jeffery has been on base. He plays outfield and I am lucky if he is looking at home plate when the batter hits the ball.
    Today, however, he seems to be getting into it a bit more. I just wish he would swing the darn bat.
    He hits the first pitch. It spins high up on the first base side and smacks the bleachers right next to his dad...You would have thought it was a home run. Every one rooting for the Phillies starts yelling like they have lost their minds.
    I think the noise must have unnerved the pitcher because he throws four straight balls. Jeffery struts to first base like he owns the world.
    Shawn is next. He takes the pitcher to a full count then goes down looking.
    Jonathan stands by the plate and glares at the pitcher while he takes three balls, two strikes (in some kind of order) and then stares at the last pitch, a pretty strike.
    Two down. Man the bottom of my order doesn't help me very often. Zac is my last hope.
    Sometimes things are hopeless. Five pitches later, Diane my scorekeeper draws a backwards K next to Zac.
    Three down without trying to foul off the last strike, come on, give me a break guys!
    Bottom of the Forth
    Phillies 3, Giants 2
    Joel is nice and warmed up. I watch the players as they move out on the field, grinning as they run. They believe in Joel. He rarely walks a batter. He makes them work for it. I hear the Parents saying "We got em now."
    Maybe, but I don't want to let up. Joel knows that and he reminds his team not to let up as they run past him. "Good boy," I think to myself.
    Joel wastes no time. He hurls at the Giants number 4 hitter, three inside fastballs waist high. He freezes the guy in his cleats. His bat never moves.
    The Second batter takes a swing at all three pitches but gets nothing but air.
    Two down, one to go.
    The next batter up catches everyone by surprise. He bunts to the first base side (it could have been an accident) on the very first pitch. WC, now catching, can move pretty fast when he wants to, scoops it up and throws it to the stretched out TJ at first, just in the nick of time.
    The forth inning is over, pretty darn quick if you ask me.
    Top of the fifth and my summer boys are up again. I look though the dugout fence at their hot and sweaty faces. I tell these great kids of mine that Joel needs some protection. Get him some runs.
    Chris yells "What's rule number 2?!!!"
    "Don't let up! Don't let up!"
    WC leads off.
    WC is a short stocky kid who doesn't like batting in the bottom of the order. Most of the time I put him in the ninth spot. He can hit and he can get a walk. The only bad thing is that he has a habit of throwing his bat. The first time the umps will issue a warning, the second time they will call him out. WC throws his bat at least once a game but if he gets a hit and controls himself he can get us back to the top of our order and when that happens WC will usually score a run. Today WC is not batting at the bottom but we still need him to do his magic.
    WC likes to swing his bat, so he fouls a few pitches and makes the pitcher work until the count is three and two. On the next pitch he sends a blooper over the third baseman's head, runs three steps, drops his bat and makes it to first base. It is obvious that he likes the sound of his team's cheers.
    TJ comes up. TJ gets more walks than anyone on the team. He knows that it his job to get on base so he is an extremely patient batter.
    He forces the pitcher to go to another full count but comes out on the losing end this time.
    Ian, who came to the game during previous inning is up now. Ian is my youngest player and is scared stiff of the ball. If he stays in the batter's box and gives the pitcher any kind of challenge we will be doing good. He manages to get a piece of the second pitch. It is the first time he puts the bat on the ball during a game. I am proud of him even when he misses the next two.
    Two outs with one on, but we make it back to the top of the lineup.
    As Matt steps out of our dugout I stop him and call Joel over.
    "What do you guys think of the pitcher?" I ask.
    "He's throwing a lot of pitches, most of them balls. He looks nervous or something," is Joel's response. Matt nods in agreement.
    "We will try to make him work a little harder." I look over at Matt. "Play with his head a bit, step out between pitches, fix your gloves, or adjust your helmet, make him think about his next pitch longer than he wants to. Got that?"
    "Okay Coach."
    Matt walks over to the plate just as my friend the ump impatiently yells "Batter Up!"
    Maybe Matt didn't get it, I don't know. He hits the first pitch for a single. Okay, I'll take it anyway I can get it.
    CJ is up next. He fouls the first pitch and then takes the next two. The count is 1 and 2 when the next pitch comes straight at him. I know he's going to duck but he turns around and takes it right in the middle of his back. He drops his bat, bends his back one direction and then the other, groaning and moaning. The ump asks CJ if he his okay. CJ says he can still play. He hobbles to first. I swear he gave me a sideways grin as he passes me.
    That did it. We now have the bases loaded with two outs. Joel is now in the box. He has that look in his eye. He wants more than just a base hit, he wants extra bases, as many as he can get. I know what he wants. He wants the biggest home run you can get. Joel wants a Grand Slam.
    Sometimes you almost get what you want.
    The Giants pitcher was just too nervous. His first pitch is in the dirt, the catcher scrambles and WC steals home while Matt and CJ advance a base.
    We have a two run lead with one inning to go, plus there is a time limit, but at this point that is way off yet.
    The Giants coach calls his pitcher over to the third base path.
    I can guess what he is saying. "It's okay; this is still anybody's game. Just go out there and throws strikes."
    Yep, that's what I would have said with all the confidence that I could muster, while hoping that it works.
    It does for awhile, sort of.
    Joel looks at two close balls then fouls off two pitches in a row and then looks at one more ball. It's a full count. He then hits the next pitch hard down the third base side where at the last second it curves foul.
    I think to myself that the pitcher better not throw one there again. He does.
    Joel kicks and slams it hard. It's a rope over the third baseman's head and keeps going until it rolls into the farthest point in left field that it can go. Joel does not look where that ball lands. From the moment he makes contact his feet start to move toward first. He glances at the first base coach who yells at him to keep going. Joel flies around second, all the time watching TJ's father who is coaching third base. His arm is spinning like a windmill and Joel gets the message.
    All of us are yelling at him.
    "Run Joel, Run!"
    He rounds third into foul territory and keeps on pumping for home. I see the throw being relayed from the outfield and it is going to be close. Joel looks at me for the slide sign. I give it to him, better safe than sorry.
    He slides across the plate with an inside the park homerun, beating the throw by, well, quite a bit. His teammates are yelling at the top of their voices. It is quite a moment.
    The score is now Phillies 7, Giants 2
    "Don't let up!"
    "Don't let up!"
    I did not remind them of rule number two. Chris or someone started that cheer themselves. I don't stop them. They know it is still anybody's game to win.
    I look over at the Giants dugout and almost feel sorry for the coach. The pitcher looks dejected but not defeated. That is good, after all the game ain't over till it's over.
    I herd all the guys back to the dugout as Chris heads to the batter's box. Chris is really pumped up. I can see it in his face. The first pitch comes in low and outside.
    Ball one.
    The pitcher winds up, lets go and the ball follows the same path.
    Ball two.
    Chris steps out of the box, glares at the mound, takes a swing and steps back to the plate.
    The pitcher throws a high breaking ball. It looks like a softball pitch.
    Ball Three.
    Chris gets red in the face and yells.
    "Come on, give me something to hit!"
    I have to do something and do it fast.
    "Time, Blue!"
    The ump calls time and I motion for Chris to come over.
    I lean in close to him.
    "I want you to show a bunt."
    "I don't want to bunt." He responds.
    "I want you to show a bunt and if the pitcher puts it down the middle pull back and kill it. Can you do that?"
    "Fake a bunt? I don't know coach."
    "Hey, batter we don't have all day."
    I push Chris back towards the plate...the ump wants to go home.
    Chris steps back in the batter's box. The throw is a fastball outside. Chris drops his bat and heads for first.
    "Hey batter, that was a strike."
    Slowly Chris turns and looks at the Ump like he is out of his mind. The pitcher starts laughing at him. Chris's face becomes as red as a tomato.
    He goes back to the plate. He takes his stance. Then something clicks. He squares off for a bunt. He shows this great big and very ugly wiggy-waggy bunt. The pitcher looks at Chris like he has gone crazy and fires a fast one right down the fat part of the plate.
    I know what is coming next because I can feel it in the air. The hair on my arms stands up as Chris gets this unmistakable look on his face. It is the look of complete victory. He pulls back and smokes the ball harder than he has ever hit one in his life.
    PING!!!
    That ball heads for dead center field, climbing the whole time. Every eye, both on our field, the T-ball field and the major league field, where the sound of the bat hitting the leather can be heard, is following the path of the ball. They watch it as it bounces off a car in the parking lot way beyond our centerfield fence.
    Chris makes his victory lap around the diamond. My team is going crazy. They meet Chris at home plate, slapping his back.
    Chris finally has his Major League Home run.
    Phillies 8, Giants 2
    But it ain't over till it's over.
  7. -Gramps-

    Gadgets For Christmas!

    By -Gramps-,

    Well, Christmas is only ……days away. You can fill in the blank yourself. I thought I would mention a few things that I would want for Christmas if I didn’t have them already and some things I don’t have that are on my list. These things are almost always gadgets of some kind.
    1. Winegard GS-wing Wingman Antenna upgrade. I have one of these. It attaches to an existing Sensor head with no tools required. It is supposed to increase UHF signal gain up to 100%. I am not sure it has done that for me but it has helped pull in stations that are far away, up to a point. You still have to rotate the antenna of course, which I find to be a real pain. If your digital TV has a viewable signal strength meter that helps.
    http://www.winegard....ngman/index.php
    2. Wingard Sensar Pro TV signal meter. I do have one of these installed in the overhead video cabinet of my coach. This direct replacement for a Winegard preamp is a helpful thing to have. It allows you to seek and peak digital TV signals before you run a channel scan on your TV. It helps you to aim your RV antenna with a numerical scale…the higher the number the better your aim. It provides 10db of gain, which will pull in that big game just enough to stop the picture from freezing and breaking up into those irritating squares.
    http://www.winegard..../sensar-pro.php
    3. Crossfires. This pair of gadgets is invaluable. Crossfires are a dual tire pressure equalization system. They provide a number of things. You have a window that quickly tells you if your tires are at or near proper inflation pressure. You have one point to inflate both tires. The most important thing is that the Crossfire system moves air back and forth between the two tires depending on which one is taking the most weight or if one has a leak the other tire will loan air for as long as it can, until the low pressure shut off activates. These things will add life to your tires and pay for themselves. I have been using them for seven years and they are a very good investment.
    http://www.dualdynam...res/index.shtml
    4. Rechargeable Family Radios (walkie talkies). No coach should be without a set of these. Hand signals alone or depending on a rear camera when parking the coach just don’t cut it if you ask me. You can go hog wild and buy a set of headsets or just go for a good set of handhelds, but do your self a favor and get a pair. You can always use them to keep up with the grandkids at Disney World. Store them close to the front door of your coach. Wal-Mart sells a whole range of them.
    http://www.walmart.c...ch_constraint=0
    5. Wireless thermometers with multiple remote transmitters. These things are great. Put a transmitter in your wetbay, one in the fridge and anywhere else you want one. It is always good to know if your beer is getting too warm or your water pump is getting too cold.
    http://www.acurite.c...hermometer.html
    6. A remote controlled AM/FM CD weather band dash radio. The remote is important. The co-pilot can use it to change the station so that the driver doesn’t have to look down or reach for the buttons. I am ordering the remote control for my Magnadyne today.
    https://recreationna...m9900cds-remote
    7. Cell booster/repeater. This is a great gadget. I have helped install them and my wife keeps complaining about the fact we don’t have one for ourselves. It is on my list. This device will find a cell signal and repeat it inside your coach where it would normally be weak. This helps to prevent dropped calls or helps you make a call in the first place. The key is to buy the correct system for your coach. I don’t recommend a tethered repeater. The best way to go is to have a multi user repeater that is wireless.
    http://www.wilsonamp...245-soho-rv-kit
    8. A GPS that is designed for RV/Coach use. My Droid phone has two gps programs. My Droid Tablet has one. I have GPS software installed on my Windows 7 tablet. I have a Garmin as well. None of them are going to keep me from driving under a too low bridge or taking the coach down a road that is too narrow. They are also not going to tell me where to find a campground or a big rig accessible gas station. Rand McNally has two RV friendly GPSs. I hope to find one under the tree for me this year.
    http://store.randmcn...CFchgTAodX2npKQ
    9. An air compressor is not exactly a gadget but it sure is nice to have for obvious reasons. You can keep all your tires both the coach and the tow inflated without have to negotiate gas stations, that is, if you can find one that has an air pump. I carry an older Huskey that I bought from Home Depot. It is on wheels, light and has enough horse power to fill my coach tires. The new model has a large compartment for hose and attachment storage.
    http://www.homedepot...ssor-91581.html
    10. A Brita water pitcher/filter. Sure beats carrying a lot of bottled water around plus you can keep the pitcher in the fridge.
    http://www.brita.com...water-pitchers/
    11. A Kindle for the co-pilot. There are not enough words to describe how much my wife likes her Kindle, the keyboard model. She is always looking for the deal of the day and free books to read. She uses it as we are going down the road. Hers is the keyboard with WiFi version. I sure was the hero when I bought it for her along with a leather case with built in led light. The light gets its power from the Kindle itself.
    http://www.amazon.co...sl_1h7nrm5wtl_b
    12. A Droid Tablet with Keyboard. I own one. I happen to have the Asus Transformer with keyboard/usb/ extra battery docking station. It is great. I can web browse, Skype, take pictures and videos, blog, take care of email business and download books to the Kindle ap or other reading aps installed on my tablet. I am also addicted to Angry Birds. The nice thing about it is that it is small, portable and still makes a great laptop at the same time. I did the midnight Black Friday thing and bought one for Diane as well. She loves it. The Asus Transformer is the best pad you can get, better than an Ipad 2. The new one coming out on the market is the Asus Prime. It is very light very thin and very fast. It also costs more than the Transformer.
    http://www.asus.com/...nsformer_TF101/
    13. CharGriller Table Top Grill and Smoker. This is not a gadget but deserves to be on the list. I own one of these and it is great!. Smokes, grills and makes everything taste better. Along with the grill you need a cover, a cast iron grate lifter, and an apron. You will cook and look like a pro with one of these grills. I know because I won an FMCA GEAR rally grilling contest using this beauty.
    http://www.chargrill...uemart&Itemid=2
    14. Dyson Ultracompact Vaccum. My wife owns the DC24, which was the predecessor of this vaccum. It is light, compact, so that you can hide it in a corner or store it in the basement. It works really well. It sucks up a lot of dirt off any type floor. There are no bags of course. Great attachments so you don't have to carry a dirt buster and a vacuum.
    http://www.bestbuy.c...8&skuId=8728736
    These are just a few gadgets that I think will improve your time in your coach and, in turn, improve your life!
    Gramps
  8. -Gramps-

    Still Fighting

    By -Gramps-,

    This is a very strange thing to report, but Nickolas is back at the small animal hospital at NC State School of Medicine. It has been a long and very weird night.
    It seems that the pain pill I gave our dog, a dose big enough to knock out a full grown man, didn't do much to our dog but allow him a couple hours of very deep sleep. Diane who had been keeping vigil beside him, out on the deck the whole time wating for him to finally slip away, came to the door to speak to me. I was looking out the door and suddenly Nickolas popped up his head, turned and looked at Diane, then got up and came to the door. She and I just stood there in shock. I opened the door and let him in, and he went immeadiately to his water bowl and slowly drank from it. Then he looked up at us, laid down and went to sleep. A real sleep.
    Diane and I looked at each other. I had no idea what to do. About an hour earlier, just after we decided to end his suffering, I went out to the coach to get my camera for one last picture. While out there I thought of how empty the coach would be with out Nickolas in it. I lost it and told God just what I thought of my pup dying. I hope the neighbors didn't hear what I was saying, coach walls are not all that thick, but at the moment I was reminding God of his abliity to heal a small dog, of all the prayers that had come from my wife and myself and if nothing else, I still needed Him to get me through this.
    I looked at Nicolas sleeping peacefully, obvioulsy there was still some life in him and he was not as ready to leave us as it appeared.
    I just stood there in a kind of stupor and then I told Diane, " That's it, we are going to take him to the animal emergency hospital right now.....grab your purse."
    I made a phone call to the hospital, told them of our situation and they said bring him in ASAP.
    We did, and to make a long story short, after a lot of fluid, a pain injection, and blood work and some other things, we took him back to NC State where he is presently in a good but guarded condition. With medication to treat his pancreas, iv fluids, and iv supplements, he has the chance for a surgery free full recovery.
    What else can I do except thank God.
    I will keep all of you, the members of my Coach Family posted.
  9. -Gramps-

    Skipping Thanksgiving

    By -Gramps-,

    Skipping Thanksgiving. (A running blog entry)
    Wednesday:
    Diane and myself are skipping the traditional Thanksgiving this year. We are presently sitting in site 41 at the Anvil Campground in Williamsburg, Virginia. Skipping the traditional turkey dinner with all the trimmings, along with all the work that involves, didn't sit too well with some family members. I say too bad!
    Diane and I need some time to ourselves. Time with less stress, less responsibility. We need a time to heal from the loss of our dog. We need some couple time. So the plan is to hit the shopping outlets on the morning of Black Friday, then to come back to the coach, and take a break. Friday night we have reservations at The Trellis, one of the best restaurants in town if not the best. Saturday morning we might explore the Colonial area some more or Yorktown or somewhere.
    Around noon on Saturday we are going to Richmond to visit a copper colored Cocker Spaniel named Beasley. He is presently in the care of a dog rescue group. Beasley, according to what we have been told, is three years old, in good health, has a great personality and he needs a home.
    Thursday:
    We arrived at the Anvil CG around one o'clock on Thanksgiving day. It was an uneventful morning getting the rig packed up. We didn't need to load up much food or clothes but we did pack some doggie stuff. That stuff included treats, a Kong, a collar and leash and some dog food. All this is a just in case thing. The most excitement was over some lost cash, that Diane put someplace safe, so safe she couldn't find it. After some intensive searching it was discovered in a file cabinet drawer.
    Once our mad money was stored away and the car hooked up we hit I-64 for Williamsburg. Forty minutes later we were in the campground looking at a white board in front of the office door. The white board had a list of Thanksgiving day arrivals and site numbers. Site 41 was the same site we were assigned to the last time we were here.
    It did not take long to make camp and soon after we found ourselves walking on Dog Street in Colonial Williamsburg. It is not really Dog Street, but Duke of Gloucester Street. Dog is the name the locals give it and Diane and I consider ourselves locals. The street was quite crowded with tourists, most of them toting cameras and many walking dogs. We could not help but notice that. We talked to a mother and daughter walking a couple of Springer Spaniels and visited a couple walking a pair of PBGVs.
    We bought a couple of ten dollar large souvenir mugs of hot cider (which come with free refills ) and I played Quoints, a game related to horseshoes, with one of the park interpreters, who played the character of Mr. Randolph ESQ., attorney at law.
    We were back in the coach around five and had Chinese food followed by a viewing of Eat, Love, Pray or is it Eat, Pray, Love? We also watched The Crossing, a great movie about the Battle of Trenton, that I paid too much for at the Visitor Center gift store. Oh well.
    Friday:
    Diane and I woke up early this morning with plans to drive a short distance to the Williamsburg Premium Outlets. Unfortunately I discovered that the hot water heater had not been turned on so I could not give my face a quick shave. I flipped on both the 12 volt and the 120 volt switches in order to do a quick warmup. The hot water heater would not ignite its gas burner. I spent the next half hour troubleshooting that problem without success.
    So off to the Outlets we went. The hot water heater problem would have to wait. The Outlets were not that crowded when we arrived at nine thirty in the morning but sixty minutes later the whole scene changed. The placed became a mad house. Some stores had lines of people waiting to get in. Well the Coach store did anyway. The crowds, I didn't mind them, but the lines I avoided including the ones where the final place in line was in front of a cash register. Diane stood in a couple of those lines but not me. We purchased a few gifts for ourselves, and I mean that literally, including a pair of Sketcher Shape Ups for each of us. I put mine on in the store and wore them the rest of the time we were shopping. Those things really will make your rear end and legs sore. We visited most of the stores and found a bunch of really good bargains but bought none of them; however I may go back and buy a one hundred and thirty dollar Tommy Bahama shirt for forty bucks. But maybe not...I am feeling kinda cheap this year.
    We walked around the place until dead tired, then back to the coach where I found a loose connection in the hot water heater compartment. Problem solved, we will now have hot water for showers before dinner.
    Dinner at the Trellis was really good. Diane had half a grilled free range chicken. I had crayfish fritters and Idaho Rainbow trout and hot cider spiked with really good Bourbon. We ate a lot. Afterwards we made another walk down Dog street and visited a few shops. I didn't buy a thing. After our walk we made a visit to the local Wal-Mart with its Red Box to return Eat, Pray, Love. The titile of the movie seemed very appropriate for this little venture.
    Richmond tomorrow. We shall see what happens. We could end up with a new four legged coach companion.
    Stay tuned, so to speak.
    Saturday:
    Diane and I woke with the dawn. Actually I woke much earlier than that. I tend to wake every hour on the hour. I don't need an alarm clock anymore. I have not used one for years. After Diane had her morning coffee, she made a frittata with Portobello mushrooms, onions and green peppers. I sprinkled some grated cheddar cheese on mine. After breakfast we got dressed and loaded up the car with our just in case doggy supplies, which included a blanket, water bowl, treats and a leash. Then we headed over to the Yankee Candle Outlet.
    The Yankee Candle outlet is a great place. It is not only a place to get really good bargains but it is just a lot of fun. We watched kids making hand candles. A hand candle is a wax model of a human hand, to be precise the hand of the person making the candle. With the help of a Yankee Candle employee, the hand is dipped into a number of containers holding warm paraffin each in a different color. After all colors are selected the form is removed from the hand somehow.....I didn't get a chance to see that part of the process. I did see a finished product and it is quite interesting. The Outlet is quite large and has one section dedicated to toys, another to clothes and one just for Christmas Villages. We both enjoyed roaming around the place a lot.
    After leaving Yankee Candle we visited the Orvis Sporting Goods outlet. I bought a shirt there that was marked down from ninety eight bucks to nineteen dollars with an extra thirty percent off at the register. Diane bought two tops that were over seventy bucks each originally. Our total bill was just over fifty dollars including the tax. I want to go back tomorrow and buy a dog bed and another shirt.
    Yes, we need a new dog bed for our new pupster. As I write this he is asleep on the coach couch. He has had quite a day and he is "dog tired".
    It is a one hour drive from Williamsburg to Richmond. We had arranged to meet Becky, who runs Angel Dog Rescue and Transport otherwise known as ADRATI.com sometime between one and two pm at her house in Richmond. We had to skip lunch in order to get there on time, but neither of us cared.
    We called Becky and let her know that we would be arriving just before one thirty. We arrived at the said time and parked in a school parking lot just past her house. As we walked up the street to meet her, we saw Beasley zipping around at the end of his flexible leash. It was obvious that he is a high energy dog. That turned out to be more than the case. Beasley loves to walk and when given the opportunity loves to run. He is extremely social and loves people, other dogs, cats and children.
    Once Becky filled us in on Beasley's history, and we watched him run around the back yard, we both had no hesitation about taking him back to the coach. We are now in the first day of a one week trial. At the end of that if all is well, he will stay with us. Day number one has gone very well. He rode in the car well, and loved his walk down Dog Street. Many people, once they saw his cheerful face, long blond legs, and curly floppy ears, came over to take his picture and ask if they could pet him. One lady in a wheel chair just fell for him and loved it when Beasley gave her a big sloppy kiss. Diane had always wished that Nickolas had the disposition to be a therapy dog. But he was just to shy around strangers. Beasley, however, is not shy at all. He might just be able to fulfill Diane's wish.
    It will take a bit of time for us to get to know Beasley (his full name is Mister Beasley) and I am sure that his transition to a new home will have a few bumps, but a few is all we expect. He appears to be a dog with a lot of confidence in people. His first owners may have given up on him but it is obvious that the people who have looked after him since have given him good care.
    We are very thankful to have this opportunity.
    Tomorrow we head home. We shall see how Beasley travels in the coach.
    I think he will do just fine.

    Diane and Mr. Beasley (His name will be changed but that is another story!)
  10. -Gramps-
    Two weekends ago Diane, Teddy and I took the coach for a cold, wet weekend to Beth Page campground in Urbana, Virginia. From Portsmouth it is about a ninety minute drive up I-64 to State Highway 17. It would be a lot quicker if not for slow drivers and lots of stop lights. I didn't mind so much because we were not in a big hurry. We left around two in the afternoon on Friday and the nights festivities would not start until five.
    The purpose of this trip was to rally up with our fellow Colonial Virginians, our FMCA chapter and have our annual Christmas Party. It is a big affair for us. We have two catered meals, a big country breakfast on Saturday and a really good meal on Saturday night. After the meal is our traditional nasty Santa gift exchange. Gift steal is really what it is. The weekend starts on Friday night with happy hour at five.
    We arrived just at four o'clock at the office at Beth Page. Our arrival would have been earlier but I missed the turn into the campground. That meant driving down a dead end street, unhooking the tow, backing up the coach and then driving back to the campground where I better not miss the turn again. I didn't. I did remember that this was a dry camping weekend so I filled up the fresh water tank in Williamsburg on our previous trip out.
    We were led to our spot; a big pull-thru, hooked up, put out the slides (and they all worked great) and then Diane took off to the nearest food market to buy some peeled shrimp to take to the Happy Hour.
    While she was gone, I sat up Teddy's new crate in the coach. He took one look at it and moved to the other end of the coach. I took one look at it and thought that it was a big thing to have sitting behind the driver's seat. It couldn't be helped, our original crate was just a bit too small and we just couldn't leave him in it for more than short periods of time. Teddy, of course, didn't want to be left for any periods of time.
    Diane was not gone long. She came back in with a big bag of frozen shrimp, good sized ones, and I thawed them out for her, which took a few minutes. We changed into some clothes that were a bit more festive to match the occasion, packed up Teddy's Kong with some cheese, and then after he was safely stowed away, we hopped in the car and drove over to the conference center for the party.
    It was fun to catch up with some friends whom we had not seen in a few months. We don't get the chance to camp with our fellow club members all that often, and this year was harder than usual with Nickolas being ill, and my work schedule requiring so much weekend work.
    We chatted for awhile; had some drinks and I ate a ton of shrimp. Not just ours but some unpeeled ones provided by other people. After about three hours I left with Bill, one of our close friends to go back to our coaches. Bill and Micky were parked next to us. Diane and Micky decided to stay and play tile games for awhile, a long while but that was fine with me. I picked up a copy of Pursuing Happinessfrom a DVD collection provided by a Beth Page staff member and so I had something to keep me entertained for a couple of hours at least.
    I let Teddy out of prison, (it's not that bad), and he sat on my lap most of the time the movie was playing. Every now and then he would move over to the co-pilot's seat and look out the door window like he was hoping to see someone, who; I cannot imagine.
    The movie really got to me. Of course it did, because I am such a softy. It got to me the first time I watched it too, still I enjoyed it a lot. It is a movie that a lot of people should see.
    Around ten thirty Diane came back through the door. Teddy was very glad too see her. We sat together on the couch for awhile, and then I took him out for his last walk of the day. At eleven we hit the hay. Teddy, after providing us both with lots of good night kisses, curled up at our feet and in just a few seconds was asleep.
    We were up around six the next morning. I think I actually slept through the night. The fist time that had happened in quite some time. The hard cider I drank the night before must have had something to do with that, or maybe it was all the shrimp.
    We got dressed, took the pup out for a long cold walk and at about eight thirty we put him back in his crate and drove over for breakfast.
    It turned out to be a great one with eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits and gravy, pancakes and good coffee. That last item is very important to Diane. Me, I am a hot tea drinker in the mornings when it is available and it was.
    After this great breakfast, the Colonials had their annual big business meeting. This one was important because we had a new president, along with other officers, and we were setting up our rally schedule for the next calendar year.
    After all the business yada, yada, yada, we were reminded about the coming evening's dinner, and gift "exchange". We all looked forward to it very much. The room was decorated really great, the tables looked nice and I was beginning to feel a bit Christmassy.
    We returned to the coach and I gave Teddy some eggs and bacon that I smuggled out in a napkin. Then I piddled around making some minor repairs to various things that needed repairing, fastening down some molding, tightening a screw, gluing down a floor tile, that kind of thing. Diane ran the vacuum while Teddy barked at it.
    I wasted my time trying to scan for TV channels. There was nothing close enough worth watching so the TV remained off. We sat and talked which was a good thing.
    We talked about what we would do for Christmas where we would go and how long we would stay there. We planned to go to St Augustine for New Years with our daughter Jeri, Tom and Dylan, then over to Fort Wilderness for five nights. (I may extend that if I can) and then back home. We would be back in the office, so to speak, on the 8th of January. We thought this would make a good trip and I am sure that it will.
    The big event for the day started at five, with a social hour, then dinner at six. Dinner was really good. We had a roasted pork loin, gravy, creamed potatoes, stuffing, rolls, long green beans with bacon, salads first, and then apple crisp for dessert. As I said it was really good. Then it was time for the gift giving/stealing exchange.
    It was a hoot. I got to go first, that meant that there was nothing for me to steal but I had my choice of all the unopened presents and then after all others had gotten their gifts, either by crook or hook, I could look em all over and steal any gift that had not already been stolen twice before. I opened a big box with a large elf in it. Diane liked it and no one stole it although there was a lot of stealing going on. Micky had to make four trips up to the gift table; she couldn't hang on to anything she got until she stole one herself. That steal was number two so her gift was now safe.
    At the end of the evening I exchanged gifts with Andy, a friend who liked elves and Diane collects snowmen, which is what he had, so the trade was good for both parties. The snowman is now sitting on our entertainment center and will most likely go with us to Florida next week.
    Lots of our friends expressed their sadness at hearing about the loss of our Nickolas. They also shared our joy in knowing that we had a new pup who was adjusting great. Lots of people, who saw us walking him, commented on how handsome he is. He is handsome in a long legged cute kind of way.
    The evening was over at around ten thirty. We made a quick getaway to our coach to let out the pup. We called it a day, retired to the bedroom to watch a Walton's Christmas special about two kids from England who came to America to escape the blitz. We both watched the whole thing without falling asleep.
    In the morning it was back to the meeting room for a continental breakfast, more good conversation, a round of goodbyes and Merry Christmases and then we returned to the coach. We did not want to leave right away. We choose to walk around some, clean the coach a bit more and around two we left for home.
    It was a good time.
    This past Saturday we attended my mother's eightieth birthday party. We also decided to make it our family Christmas party as well. We also had a nasty Santa gift exchange that went pretty well. I stole a set of electronic key finders that don't work so hot , but it doesn't matter, the evening was fun. We met at the Surf Rider, a local seafood place that has the best crab cakes you ever ate. Diane and I had ours on top of a Cesar Salad, along with Calamari, She Crab soup and hush puppies. There was Birthday cake for dessert. It was nice seeing my two sisters, my brother and all our extended families. My daughters could not be there but my grandsons did attend. We kept them for the weekend. I looked around the room and was surprised at just how large the family had grown from just two people who met so many years before. I was glad to be there. I will also be glad to see my daughter, her husband and our little grandson in just a few days. I think they will take to Teddy and he to them quite easily.
    Well I need to get to work. I am still sitting here in my pjs. I need to get to the bank and make a deposit and I have not done any Christmas shopping yet. There is no sense in putting it off to the very last minute. I also need to get the tree down from the attic. That should have been done days ago but my business has been, well, just busy lately.
    So to all my readers and that includes you too Todd..please have a very Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year, and my God bless all of you.
    Derrick
    "Gramps"
  11. -Gramps-
    Just a few days before I had this dream Diane, while walking Nickolas our dog, was attacked by a Pit Bull. It almost killed her. Mayber that event triggered the dream. Who knows, the human mind and spirit are wonderful mysteries.
    I Had a Strange Dream Last Night
    I had a strange dream last night. I was having trouble sleeping. My eyes hurt. I couldn't take the light from the clock on my stereo on top of the dresser. I finally heaved myself out of bed and moved a glass candle holder in front of that blasted blue light. Then I stumbled into the bathroom and by the faint glow of a street light coming through the curtained window, opened the medicine cabinet and struggled with a bottle of Advil. I took one with a handful of water and headed back to bed. In the short time I was gone the dog had taken my spot so I told him to move, which he grudgingly did. I crawled in next to Diane and quietly waited for the pill to take effect and help me sleep. At some point it must have worked. Maybe it worked too well.
    I found myself drifting out of my body. Slowly, I drifted about the room. I turned and saw Diane and I curled up as one, Nickolas at our feet. And then everything started to zoom out smaller and smaller until my surroundings were just a blur. I realized I was traveling somewhere at an impossible speed, but I had no idea where, but I felt no fear just a sense of patient anticipation, a strange mixture to be sure. I slowed down and began to recognize where I was, my daughter Jeri's home in Florida. I floated in place, the front of the white house illuminated by the moon. I could see the brown lizards with the blue tails, maybe the same ones I saw on my last visit, running across the walkway to her front door. I wondered how she and her husband Mark were doing, and the thought had barely entered my head when I started moving toward the door and then through it, like it was made out of strings of beads. I could feel myself pass through it; see it separate into segments around me. Once on the other side it appeared to still be solid. I floated into their bedroom, they were asleep, Jeri resting her head on Mark's shoulder. She was gently snoring. I hoped that I did not have to be concerned about them. All is peaceful here I thought.
    The room shrank and disappeared. I found myself flying to wherever again, some things around me recognizable, palm trees, street lights, buildings all blending together in stretched shades of blue and streaks of light. Soon it became so black I could see nothing around me at all. The air became warm and I could smell salt. Then I heard it. I was over the ocean. I moved out from the blackness I was in, to a stadium of stars, a carpet of luminous blue below me. Off in the distance I could see the horizon and perched on it a moving light. I drifted toward it or should I say I was moved toward it, the sea wind blowing gently around me. The lights came closer and closer and then I saw that it was a ship. Is it?....Is it?....It is! The Voyager of the Seas! No doubt about it! But why was I here? I came along the port side of the ship, drifting forward and then up to the top deck, into the bridge, always wanted to visit there, out and then down like a fast moving elevator. I found myself coming to a slow stop in the Royal Promenade. There were only a few people about, all dressed up. Tonight is obviously Formal night, I thought, and it's very late….and …hey this is the Centrum and Wow, Back up! I passed through the decks, one by one and slowed down, turned through the pastel passageway past a familiar Egyptian art display in a glass case and found myself parked, my feet (I guess I had feet) a few inches above the carpet in front of a cabin with the number 1234 on it.
    I know this cabin. Diane and I stayed here! When was it? It must have been a long time ago. I could not remember, my memory suddenly seemed fuzzy for some reason. I slowly passed though the closed door, a sensation I knew I would never get used too, and into the cabin. There was a reading light on over the bed. In the bed was a couple, I assumed they were husband and wife. The balcony curtain was open and the door was cracked, letting the very warm sea breeze blow the shears across the foot of the bed. I could hear the sea massaging the ship. On the couch was a cast off tux, white shirt and tie. A long black velvet dress was hanging neatly from the divider next to the couch. I caught the glint of one gold cuff link sitting next to a gold watch on the nightstand. I hung there and made a slow spin. On the coffee table was a glass of water, numerous bottles of pills, and a partially consumed yellow cake. It has to be their anniversary, I thought. I turned around a bit more. I could see the reflection of the room in the mirror, but the reflection did not include me. I found that a bit curious. I took a closer look at the two people. Though the room felt very warm, she looked pale and was covered up to the chin, except for one arm, with a familiar brown blanket. They looked about my age, maybe a bit younger. I noticed that their hands were clasped so tightly together that the knuckles were white, like they were holding on to each other for dear life.
    "They have been together as Man and Wife for over thirty years."
    My heart leapt in my disembodied chest. I had never heard that voice before but I recognized it at once. A tremendous feeling of peace came over me. I could not speak.
    They have? I thought.
    "Yes, and they have known each other since second grade."
    I looked at those intertwined fingers, and thought there is something wrong.
    "She's dying"
    My feeling of peace started to leave. I found my voice "Why? From what?"
    "Does it matter what?" said the voice gently.
    "No, I guess not." I said "She must be really scared."
    "She is more afraid for him than he is for her" answered the voice.
    "Why, is that? She's the one who is dying!"
    "She is afraid for him because he does not believe in me."
    And then I understood her fear, and I began to understand something else too.
    "He won't ask you to make her well will he?" I said.
    "He refuses, only because he does not know how to ask me."
    "Hasn't she asked you?"
    "She loves him so much that she only talks to me about him."
    "But she believes you can make her well doesn't she?"
    "She believes."
    "So do I."
    "Yes, I know that", said the voice.
    There was a sudden burst of lightning off in the distance. It filled the room like a reflected flash. I looked down at the woman and I could see color come into her face and lips. Her breathing became deeper and a bead of sweat broke out on her upper lip. She let go of her husband's hand sat up looked around the room and I could have sworn she looked right at me.
    "It's hot in here" she said softly.
    And then she kicked the blanket off onto the floor, rolled over on her stomach and put her arm around her husband. It started raining, the wonderful sounds and smells of one of those random little Caribbean squalls being pushed through the open balcony door by a cool breeze.
    I knew it was time to leave. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the somewhat creepy pass back through the door but in an instant my eyes were shocked back open by the sound of loud techno dance music. I was in the Vault. The place was packed. The lights were flashing. I was standing in the back part of the lounge. And I was no longer disembodied. I was wearing my single button tux, wing collared shirt, and the blue brocade vest I wore to our daughter Jeri's wedding. This was weird to say the least. Even stranger was that I knew, somewhere in the room, was a man and a woman that I was supposed to meet. I had to talk to the man first. I went upstairs to the second level bar and walked over to a young man, with a military style haircut, in his thirties most likely, who was sitting at the bar sipping a Coke.
    "Scott?"
    He turned around and gave me a somewhat puzzled look.
    "Yes…do I know you?" he asked.
    "Not exactly, but we do have a mutual friend, who told me to look you up… can I sit here and talk for a minute?"
    "Sure'' he answered. "Who told you I would …"
    Before he could finish his question I had planted myself on a bar chair and interrupted him.
    "I know you recently returned from a very tough tour of duty in Afghanistan. I know you went active from the reserves so you could go there because your sister was killed in the World Trade Center on 911. I know you are on this cruise at the suggestion of friends, who think, or hope that you will meet a, or should I say, The girl who might help bring a little joy back into your life. Am I right?"
    He looked shocked and after a pause and a swallow of his drink he answered.
    "Ah, yea, correct on all counts" he said. And then with a smile added "They told me they were praying that I would find her on this cruise."
    I looked at him hard. "If I told you that the answer to that prayer is downstairs would you let me take you to her?"
    It was now his turn to look hard at me. He did not answer.
    I sang, "Wake up….Wake up Dead Man…Our Father...He's in charge of Heaven, and He made the world in seven…
    Scott finished for me….
    "Would you put a word in… for me…?"
    A moment of silence.
    "That word has been put in. Will you let me take you to her?" I gently asked again.
    He choked out one word
    "Yes."
    "Okay, let's go"
    We walked down the glass stairs to the lower section. On the way I told him a little about Ginny, the girl that he was about to meet.
    "She likes daisies and roses. Her favorite food is seafood and she loves steamed mussels. She likes to dance swing, but she hasn't done it in quite awhile. Her favorite music group is U2. I saw the incredulous look on his face and told him it is my favorite group as well.
    "I am going to tell you one more thing and then the rest is better left up to you. Her fiancé was killed at the Pentagon."
    "On 911?" said Scott.
    "Yes."
    I led the way to a table with two attractive women sitting at it. One sat quietly in her chair, the other was more animated. It was obvious that they were sisters. Not twins but close.
    "Hello there."
    They turned around and look up at us. I took Ginny's hand and as I gently raised her out of her seat I said:
    "Ginny this is Scott. Scott this is Ginny. It has been divinely arranged for the two of you to meet on this night at this time and at this place. Now I think you two should sit down and start getting to know each other."
    Ginny looked nervously at me and then at Scott, who gave her a warm smile. She seemed to relax a bit and looked at her sister who was now on her feet as well.
    "This is my sister and I…'
    "Don't you worry about Barbara, she and I will finish this dance." I said
    I took the sister by the hand and as I led her to the dance floor I whispered to Scott
    "Walk on Scott, Walk on"
    He smiled. I am sure he got my message.
    Barbara looked at me like I was a mildly crazy person. We reached the floor just as the song Caught in a Moment finished playing (the evening was planned don't forget) I leaned close to Barbara's ear.
    "Scott is the direct answer to your very direct prayer. You have to keep this a secret; they will get married on your birthday."
    She started to cry.
    The song ended, the moment was over and I said goodbye.
    "I have to go." I said. "You, your sister, and Scott are going to have a good life; you just have to choose to live it."
    Barbara looked at me, nodded and said "Who are you? What is your name?"
    "My name is Derrick and I'm Diane's husband."
    I held one of her hands in both of mine for a moment and then walked out the door to the Centrum on deck three. I was not at all sure what to do next. Just a few minutes earlier I was practically a ghost and now I was literally standing in front of an elevator, by myself in a tuxedo with no place to go. I reached out and pushed the elevator button. It came; I stepped in, the carpet said Tuesday. When I went to bed it was Friday, and I seemed to remember that Voyager's formal nights were Monday and Thursday. Space and time were a bit off. I took the elevator to deck 5 because I wanted to walk the Royal Promenade as long as I could actually walk. The elevator opened and instead of turning right towards the Café Promenade and all its goodies (I don't know if I could have eaten one or not) I had the urge to turn left into Cleopatra's Needle. I walked in. The place was packed with people. It was Karaoke night just like the Tuesday night on my cruise. I stood out of the way in the back. I felt a little self conscious considering I was the only man in a tux, but no one seemed to notice me at all. I began to wonder if they could even see me. A couple of people sang and the order seemed very familiar. And then I heard my named called.
    "Is Derrick here?"
    I hesitated to answer; after all I was not sure I was really here or not. Before I could decide what to do a man sitting on the edge of the dance floor stood up and walked over to the host or hostess. She handed him the mike and said tell everyone your name, where you are from and why you are here.
    "Hi, my name is Derrick; I'm from Portsmouth Virginia……"
    A big cheer went up from the section to the left of the floor. I almost fell over because I stupidly realized that I was watching myself. Talk about Déjà vu. I had to sit down. As I took a chair next to an older couple I heard myself say:
    "… and I am celebrating my 30th anniversary. I would like to sing this song to my wife Diane who is sitting over there". He or I pointed to where she was sitting with her shoes off and her feet up on the chair in front of her.
    The other I then stepped towards Diane. There was a big cheer, as I remembered it; only out in the audience it was really loud. The music started, this time I was a spectator. I watched myself look at my wife and she looked back and neither looked away, even for a second.
    Most of the people around me were chatting with each other. But as the song progressed they stopped talking and started to listen, really listen…
    If I called you every time that I think of you…the phone would be ringing, all day.
    I keep thinking these feelings will mellow with time but not yet, no way. We've had our share of heartache and trouble, we can look back and laugh at it now, but a mystery keeps haunting me, how we hurt those we love most somehow, somehow.
    A real love expression is long overdue, so hear my confession of my love for you-I just never say it enough, and before it's too late and time's up; you're more than all I dreamed you'd be, an answered prayer, a gift of God above. But I just never say it enough.
    I believe God inhabits the human heart. I believe it more now than ever before and I see His reflection in You, in You, and I'm sure, yes I'm sure.. that a real love expression is long overdue, so hear my confession of my love for you- I just never say it enough…so before it's too late and time's up, you're more than all I dreamed you'd be, an answered prayer, a gift of God above.
    Some of the women started to cry, some of the men too. I had no idea that the song had that much impact and then I realized my face was wet also.
    But I just never say it enough. I just never say it; I just never say it enough. Nooo, I just never say it, I just never say it enough. Noooo… oh…. oh."
    I finished the song, the crowd all came to their feet and cheered, and it was loud. I watched myself put the mike back on the stand, take a little bow and run over and kiss Diane. I knew she was crying also.
    The hostess then told the audience that I was not part of the competition; I just wanted to sing something special for my wife and she hoped that after thirty years that they would be as much in love as Derrick and Diane.
    It was very strange. I wanted to soak up the moment from this perspective but I could not help but notice the older couple sitting next to me.
    The man looked familiar and then I remembered that Diane and I met him on the pier in San Juan. We were both on the Explorer and he told me he was a retired Israeli fighter pilot. He had served during the Six Day War.
    During the song the woman, who must be his wife, took his hand and stroked it. At first he did not seem to respond. But now, he twisted his seat around so that he could look directly at her.
    "I'm sorry, so sorry. I should not have gotten so mad at her. But what could I do? Now she is gone and I am dying inside. I have hurt you so much. How will we be able to look back at this? How will we be able to smile again, how can I laugh again?"
    The wife looked at him.
    "I don't know how, but we will, the song says so, somehow with God's help, we will."
    They both looked so unhappy and full of sorrow. I had a feeling that they had lost someone very close to them
    "Tell them that Sarah is with me"
    The voice startled me.
    "Derrick, tell them that their grand daughter Sarah is with me and that she is fine."
    I had to do what He said. I moved over in front of them and went down on one knee.
    "Hello, my name is Derrick…"
    They both looked at me and then looked again and then both of them looked at the couple sitting on the edge of the dance floor, the man, me, with his arm around his wife.
    I hoped that they were not about to scream or pass out or both.
    The man was speechless the woman finally spoke.
    "How can you be here and there…"
    I put my finger on my lips.
    "Shh, that is not so easy to explain. Besides I have something very important to tell you.
    Your grand daughter Sarah is in heaven, she is doing fine, and loves you both very much"
    They both stared at me for a long, long second and then the man took my arm.
    Tears ran slowly down his cheek as he told me that he had argued with Sarah about the man she planned to marry.
    "I did not approve of him at all. I did not like his family. They are not of our faith. Sarah said he is a good man, an honorable man who loves God and her. I became very angry and told her that she was as good as dead to me if she married this man."
    He had to pause. I waited.
    "She did not get the chance to marry him.. She died, at the hand of a terrorist. She was attending a birthday party for one of his friends and it was bombed. She was with him. He barley survived. I blamed him for her death. . I was a fool."
    His wife smiled gently
    "Yes you were" she said.
    "What should I do now?" he asked.
    "Love your wife, have peace, and ask the man that was to be Sarah's husband to forgive you. And be his friend. Be the Grandfather in law that you would have been. That is what you should do."
    "I think I can do that."
    I stood up, they stood with me and I embraced them both.
    "God be with you "
    "And you" he answered.
    I turned and walked out of the lounge and into the Royal Promenade. I slowly walked the length of the ship looking up at the windows of the cabins and into the shops. I thought about my time on this ship. When I was here I was relaxed. I trusted the captain and the crew to look after me and my wife. I knew that the ship and its' crew would provide everything we needed and then some. I never had the thought of telling the captain that I wanted to be in charge of my trip, that I wanted to pilot the ship because I did not like where it was going or because it was not getting there fast enough. I put my wife and my life in his hands so to speak. Should I not put the same trust into the Captain of the greatest voyage of all, the voyage called Life?
    I wanted to see the ocean so I went through the glass sliding door out to the deck. I walked over to the railing and I put my hands down on nothing. I found myself passing through the railing and out into the open air the ship slowly moving away from me. I was not worried. I must be going home.
    I floated there for a long time, the ship moving farther and farther away until once again it was just a few lights on the horizon. I looked at the millions of stars above me and the luminous blue below. And then everything became a blur again.
    I flew quickly toward home, soundlessly. I began to slow and soon I recognized the lights of my town. I have seen them from the air many times. But something seemed different; things were missing and others out of place. I drifted down to an empty downtown street. Not a soul about. Now I knew something was not right. The brand new fifteen story hotel was missing. A completed condo now looked half built. I realized that I was looking at Portsmouth some years earlier. I was not concerned, not after what had taken place the last few hours or minutes or days.
    Slowly I floated down street after street until I came to a hospital. I drifted through the front door. There were only a few people about. This had to be the past because this hospital had been closed for years. It was obvious that no one could see me. I continued up through the ceiling and found myself in the maternity ward. It was very quiet, most of the lights turned off. As I passed by an open door I could hear the sound of a new mother singing to her new baby. I moved down the hall through a partially opened door into a room. Lying on the bed was a young man, a lot younger than me anyway. His hands covered his face and it sounded like he was talking to himself, no he's praying. He had on jeans and sneakers and a gray Swatch watch just like an old watch that I own. He dropped his hands for a moment and then I knew exactly where I was and when. It was eighteen years ago, the night that my son was born; the night that he was so sick and my wife almost died. I knew she was in recovery from emergency surgery and my son was in the neonatal unit of the hospital. The man lying on the bed was me.
    For the first time during this strange trip of mine, I felt fear. The same fear and near panic I felt that May night eighteen years ago, the fear that I would loose two people. I did not want to experience that kind of fear again. I wondered why I was here.
    "You are here to tell him everything will be fine." said the voice. "You are here to tell him not to fear. That I have heard him and his family will be well."
    "How do I tell him or me? Can I see me? I mean I think I would have remembered if I met myself that night. I would have had a heart attack or something"
    I was sure I spoke out loud and it I could see that the younger me did not hear a thing.
    "Whisper to his heart and to his mind, he will hear you."
    "Lord, I don't understand, can't you do that? Why do you need me?"
    "Derrick you know the future, you know that it turned out fine, you can speak with complete confidence and the younger you needs to learn that when I speak to people, I do so quietly to their hearts and minds, and with the sound of their own voice. I don't set bushes on fire anymore. I don't write on walls. I simply give peace, a peace that is hard to understand but is very real… so speak for me."
    I did not know what else to do but move close to my own ear.
    "It's okay. Joel is fine, relax, get up and go see him. And then go to Diane and tell her that your son is doing well."
    The face of the me on the bed no longer looked strained and worried. He stretched, got up, took a sip of water from a glass on the bed tray and then left the room. I followed and watched him go into the nursery where his son, his little body full of tubes, lay in an incubator. He reached in and rubbed the little boy's back.
    I knew that Diane was just down the hall. She lay there in a morphine induced sleep. I knew she would be okay. There was only one thing that I wanted to do now.
    "Can I go home?"
    There was a very quick blur and I guess at the speed of thought, I found myself back in my bed with my feet solidly under the dog, my wife, with her bandaged ankle and arm lying exactly where I had left her, curled right next to me.
    "Where did you go?" My wife asked sleepily.
    "Honey, I have been lying here the whole night, except when I got up to get an Advil"
    "Oh, you were gone so long. I'm glad you're back."
    "Me too, go back to sleep."
    The dog yawned, I yawned and I thought about this cruise we are on. This cruise called Life. I know the captain. No need to worry.
    Derrick
  12. -Gramps-
    It feels good to be writing again. The last couple of weeks have been very busy for me. ….I know, some people don’t have the time to read about my life; they have one of their own. That is what one person told me in the form of a reply after I posted a blog entry. I had to ask myself, why did they read it then?
    Well this week has been phone system training classes and meetings of all sorts. Last week Diane and I spent three really great days at our home away from home at the Deer Creek Motorcoach resort. We were there by ourselves the first night. The second day our friends Neal and Shirley arrived. They spent one night. We went out to dinner together and talked about the resort, caught up on what all the other owners were up to. The next night, Sunday night to be exact, we went out to dinner with Laura, Barry the developer’s wife. That sounds funny. Laura is just as responsible for Deer Creek being there as anyone else and I thank her for that.
    Our time there was really good. Teddy, our new Cocker Spaniel, for those of you who don’t know, really took to the place and every one took to him. Teddy really enjoyed a long hike we took on part of the New River Trail that runs through Galax. It was about a four or five mile hike and it took a major part of the wind out of his sails. It tired me out as well.
    Sunday morning was windy. I managed to get in a round of golf and then I pulled a large multi celled, multi colored, nylon octagon box kite out of the basement of the coach. This kite is really big…when assembled it will fill up the back of a Jeep Waggoner. I know, because I tried to stow it in the back of one and I had to semi-take it apart, the kite that is, to make it fit.
    The kite has about thirty five pounds of lift when there is enough wind to get it off the ground. There was more than enough wind this particular day and when it gusted, there was too much. I found that out the hard way. At about 300 feet in the air the seventy five pound test line the kite was at the end of….broke. The kite blew away from me at a high rate of speed as it slowly drifted back down to earth. It landed in a very large rolling cow pasture that is surrounded by a barbed wire fence. I went after it as fast as I could, rewinding my line as I ran. I lost sight of it. I ran back to our site and hopped in the car, drove to the pasture but I couldn’t find the kite. Which hill did it blow over? I drove back to the coach where Diane was standing outside. She saw the kite go down and she and Teddy were waiting for me. I grabbed a pair of binoculars, maybe they will help.
    Back to the pasture we went, on foot this time. We walked around to a gate, which I climbed over. I started wondering around looking in the direction the wind was blowing, trying to find this very large but now invisible kite. As I was meandering around, the owner of the pasture was driving toward me in his Jeep. I ran over as he rolled down the window.
    “I think I know where it is…hop in”
    He obviously knew what I was looking for. Greg, that’s his name, was watching the ACC championship game and happened to glance out his big window just in time to see my kite fall to earth.
    After a short drive and that is better than walking in a heavily used cow pasture, we found it in a low creek bed. It was unharmed.
    During this time Diane was having a conversation with some people across the street from the gate; Teddy and a small dog were getting to know each other.
    Greg taxied me and my kite to the parking lot of our clubhouse, where Diane was standing on the mini golf course.
    She was as happy to see my seventy dollar kite as I was.
    So there you have it…our Deer Creek adventure in a nut shell.
    The next morning we were off to Greensboro. We arrived at about eleven where we dropped off our coach at the Workhorse repair center. The water pump, along with the fan clutch assembly is or was under a recall. Also the dash air conditioner was no longer working. The techs would need at least a couple of days to fix all these problems so we decided to stay with my Mom and Dad for a couple of days. We made a quick trip to Camping World were we spent a surprisingly small amount of money and then made the drive to my folks place.
    Two days turned into four. That seems to happen a lot, time expanding itself, when a coach needs to be repaired. All three of us stayed in my Dad’s cabin. It was a bit more primitive than our coach but it still felt like we were rving it….sort of. The only bad thing that happened was the cabin had a new water heater. The thermostat was set a bit too low. It had about two minutes worth of hot water. Diane found that out real quick. Have you seen the shower scene in Ground Hog day? It sounded a bit like that only with a higher pitch! Before my shower I grabbed a screwdriver out of the car and turned up the temp.
    We visited some cousins while we were there. My cousin Sonja has a really nice huge house than Diane had never been in before, so we got the tour. Great place, but I prefer something smaller, with wheels.
    Mom and Dad took us to this really good Greek/Italian place in Lexington called Cristo’s. I had roasted stuffed green peppers with a Greek Salad. Diane had beef gyros that looked pretty tasty. Dad provided most of our other meals, which were good as well.
    We didn’t do much while visiting besides sit and talk. The situation in Japan was the biggest topic of conversation. I thought that owning a motorhome is a good thing if you have a natural disaster that wipes out your stick house. Of course you would have to have a lot of advance warning in order to drive the rv to someplace safe. We have, on occasion, had large hurricanes hit this area and after the last big one I was impressed by my neighbors living in a Bounder while the rest of us suffered in the heat, with no power to take a hot shower or have a cold beer. Not long after that we bought our first coach, also a Bounder. There had to be a connection.
    Speaking of connections. The day before we left to pick up our coach, Janis and Gary called. They were on thier way to A Thousand Trails resort not far from Lexington. They wanted to know if we were still at Galax. When we found out we were just about a half hour away from each other we made plans for dinner at the best place in town. So that night we went back to Cristo's for the salad and pizza buffet.
    It was good to see them again. We had a great visit which I appreciated very much. They are heading out west and we don't know when we will see them again. I wish I could follow them out there...wherever there is.
    After four days and a number of phone calls back and forth, we were notified that our coach was repaired almost. A part for the AC was in but not installed. Diane needed to get back home because our daughter Jeri was flying up from Florida to attend a wedding in Richmond. Diane was going to go with her.
    So Diane dropped me off at the dealer, then she and the pup drove home. Five hours later I followed all by myself in the coach.
    It was a piece of cake without her, almost. I made a couple of wrong turns that I will blame on the Ms Garmin. I arrived home around nine thirty at night. Diane may have been worried (she called me twice to see where I was) but I did just fine, don’t let her tell you different.
    The next morning Diane and Jeri took off for Richmond, Joel left for Fredericksburg, and that left Teddy and me to fend for ourselves. We ate, we slept, and I looked after my grand boys for a night. We did just fine. Don’t let Diane tell you any different!
    Gramps
  13. -Gramps-

    My Name is Theodore

    By -Gramps-,

    My name is Theodore. I have had a lot of names in my short life; Beasley, Bailey and one other one that I don't remember, or maybe I just don't want to remember.
    I don't mind the name Theodore, but I like the name Mom and Dad use best ... Teddy Bear.
    I am Teddy Bear Parker. Being a Parker makes me happy. Can a dog be happy? Some will tell you that being happy is only for humans.
    Someone once said that a wild bird will fall frozen from a tree limb and never feel sorry for itself. How does anyone know what a bird or a dog thinks or feels?
    Let me tell you how I feel. I feel lucky. Most of all I feel safe. For the first time in a long, long time I have a family and I have a forever home.
    I know that I had some big paw prints to fill. Mom and Dad, and that's what they are to me now, loved their first dog very much. They try not to mention his name. They talk about how it has been a long time since they saw a dog running around the back yard so fast, or jumping up on their tall bed in the bus.
    I love the bus. The big window is so cool, because I can see so much and there is a lot of air blowing on me like the window is open and I know it isn't. The only thing I don't like is those noisy motorcycles flashing by.
    All of us went out to the mountains in the bus, not long ago. I met some really nice people there. I got to run with another dog on a golf course … that is what Dad called it. I am not sure what it is, but it was fun to have the whole place to myself.
    I try my best to have fun with Mom and Dad. Many a morning I will grab one of Dad's socks off the floor (Mom is always telling Dad to put his dirty socks in the hamper … that basket thing in the corner, but he doesn't listen.) I take the sock to the hallway and wait for Dad. When he asks for it I turn my head and then run around the kitchen table. Dad chases me and I let him get close before I take off again. It's a lot of fun. Mom and Dad both laugh and so does Joel. I give the sock to Dad when he offers me one of my toys. I don't want him to be mad at me.
    Fancy told me to ring the bell at the back door when I need to go out. That trick works really well. When either The Cat or I want a trip to the back yard all we have to do is shake it and someone comes running.
    So things are going really well. As I said, I know I had some big paws prints to fill.
    It has not been easy for any of us, but I also know that we are helping each other get over our past sorrows. Mom was so sad when we first met. She missed Nickolas so much. He had not been gone long before I came into her life. She thought about him all the time. Dad found some letters that Mom wrote to Nickolas. Mom wasn't sure she wanted him to use them, but she did say it was okay.
    Saturday, October, 30, 2010
    Dear Nickolas,
    It has now been a week since I last saw your sweet face. It seems like so much more. This has been one of the hardest weeks of my life, so slow, lifeless and unbearably sad. I knew saying goodbye would be hard and going on without you, even harder. I always said I never wanted a dog, and now I don't know how I ever got along without one. Now I don't know how I'm going to get along without you. I miss you almost every minute of every day. The house is so empty without you. I find myself looking for you at the end of the bed when I wake up in the morning. I listen for the sound of your nails clicking on the hardwood floors as I make my way to the kitchen. I no longer have a reason to step out the back door and walk around the yard, enjoying the fresh air, the singing birds, checking out the plants, waiting for you to take care of your "business." I forget to feed Fancy breakfast (and dinner) without you at my feet so expectantly looking forward to your meal. I look for you when I finish eating to share a last crust of bread or to lick my bowl; I miss how excited and appreciative you always were of receiving the smallest tidbit. I could go on and on about other things I miss, like you waiting for me when I step out of the shower, following me through the house as I go about my day, sometimes leading me – anticipating which room I might be going to next – looking over your shoulder to be sure I'm coming, greeting me so cheerfully whenever I enter the house – no matter how long or short my absence. Very little things, really, but very much like the punctuation marks that complete a thought, an act. With your bright eyes and your wagging tail, just your presence made every day a little brighter, everyday tasks a little lighter. Thank you so much for all the joy you brought to my life.
    I never imagined when you came into our home that you would take over my heart in such a way. I had always liked dogs, but never really wanted to have a dog. They seemed like so much more responsibility than a cat. I found out with you that yes, dogs are a bit more work. They must be walked, no matter how bad the weather, picked up after, groomed. Long periods of absence are difficult since dogs need someone to let them out. But Nickolas, you gave so much more than any cat I've ever had. It was never work taking care of you. It was all joy – well maybe taking you out in the cold and rain wasn't fun, but I'd give anything to be able to do it again.
    Sunday, October 31, 2010
    What a blessing to have had 12 years with you! How lucky that I didn't work and could spend most of my time with you. Dad said you were my shadow. Whenever anyone wanted to find you, all they had to do was look for me, you were sure to be close by. I've enjoyed walking almost as long as I can remember. It helps to clear my mind and calm my spirit. It doesn't matter whether it's the mountains, the beach, or the city, it has always rejuvenated me. But walking with you always added something extra. Your excitement from the word "walk" to the end of the outing was infectious. It was so evident with your bright eyes, your wide smile, your happy little "doggie trot," and your nose finding so many smells, even your persistent tugging on the leash. You were always so willing to go with me, never too tired or busy and people seemed much more interested in talking with you by my side than they ever were when I walked alone.
    I always missed you when we were apart; you at the groomers or me running errands or spending time places dogs just weren't welcome. I hated taking you to the groomers – you shook all the way there. You always forgave me though and were so happy to see me when I came to pick you up. Your Aunt Vickie was so sad to hear that you had gone. She helped me find pictures of you and talked about how good you were to Amy when she was learning to groom cockers.
    Monday, November 1, 2010
    I remember when I first fell for you. Christine started asking me, "Mom, don't you want a dog?" as soon as Molly became pregnant. My answer was always "No" She asked again when we were visiting her at her home in New Jersey and your eyes were just opening. You were pretty hard to resist, but still my answer was "No." Something happened when she had to bring your whole litter here so she could attend Jeri's graduation. Dad wouldn't allow any dogs in the house. We would stand amazed at the door to the garage and watch as one moment there appeared to be a cauldron of boiling puppies, tumbling, wrestling, moving, and the next moment a pile of dead dogs – everyone asleep. There came a moment as Christine and I were watching all of you romping in the back yard that I was captivated by you. You were sitting alone watching the craziness of your litter mates and I said, "If I could have one, I'd like that one."
    Christine ran immediately into the house yelling: "Da-ad, Mom wants a dog!"
    Dad looked at me in disbelief and said, "You don't want a DOG, do you?"
    I meekly responded, "Well, maybe."
    I took you with me to one of Joel's baseball games. You sat on my lap and it was so nice to have company in the bleachers ... usually I sat alone watching the games.The family went for a walk in the neighborhood, Molly and Chandler were walked by Christine and Brent, you walked with me, and you had the happiest little dog trot. Christine continued to place you on my lap and Dad's for the rest of her visit, by then you had wormed your way into my heart. Our lives were never the same.
    I had never owned a dog of my own before. Dad sternly said, "You can keep him but you'll be the one taking care of him and he better not have any accidents or chew anything up!" I knew I had my work cut out for me. I took you out every hour so you wouldn't have any accidents inside. We didn't have a fence then, so I had to take you out on leash and it was summertime so there were plenty of mosquitoes. I read dog training books from the library as fast as I could, I was so thrilled when you learned to "nose the bell" to let us know you needed to go out. You never had another accident after that. I kept you with me as I moved around the house to be sure you wouldn't chew up anything you shouldn't. Pretty soon I didn't have to ask you to come with me; you believed your place was by my side.
    I changed the sheets on our bed today and was immediately reminded of the way you would eagerly wait for the dirty sheets and blankets to hit the floor so you could pounce on them and roll around in them on your back, twisting and turning, moving your arms and legs, sometimes biting at them. I never could figure out exactly why you did that but you always seemed to thoroughly enjoy it. Sometimes I would join in the wrestling match, covering you with the sheets and tapping at your belly, ears, tail. It instantly turned a chore into game.
    Sunday, November 7 2010…
    It's been a busy week, Dad walks with me now, and I appreciate it. But I feel your absence on each walk. Christine and her boys came over today. They brought Bella, thinking spending time with her would help. I thought I was starting to get used to you not being around, but having her here made me miss you more than ever.
    Diane
    There are no more letters -- maybe because Dad did a lot of searching and then they found me.
    I met my new Mom and Dad the day after Thanksgiving. At first I wasn't sure about them. I was just excited to be out for a walk. It was the first one in a long time. I ran to the end of the leash and just stayed there. I think I was quite a handful. Dad said I pulled like a mule. Mom said she thought I seemed like a great big puppy. I guess I was. I jumped up on them and washed both their faces. Neither one minded that a bit. Mom was laughing and crying at the same time. There was something about the two of them that I could not resist. When Becky, the lady who brought me to Mom and Dad, said it was time to go and Mom led me to the car, I jumped right in. I knew right away that I wanted to be with them. We drove for a long time and they took me to the Bus. They gave me toys and treats and took me for a long walk down "Dog Street" in someplace called Williamsburg. I met other dogs, and lots of people. It was great.
    Mom, Dad, Joel, they are my people, my family. I love them with everything in me.
    I hate being separated from them … it makes me anxious, but with Mom's help I am getting used to having time by myself.
    I have learned that Mom and Dad always come back for me.
    They have learned that I will always be there, waiting for them.
    Nope, it hasn't been easy, but it is getting better all the time.
    I am Teddy Bear Parker, a very lucky dog.
    Oh, Dad, thanks for helping me write this.

  14. -Gramps-

    Packrat

    By -Gramps-,

    My wife tells me that I am a packrat. I consider myself a collector of memories.
    I have a lot of wrist watches, including six Disney ones.
    I collect pocket knives. Some are quite old and some of those I have had since I was really young.
    There are a lot of things in my small home office. Some of the things would be considered junk by most people. Some may be worth a few bucks. To me they are all valuable.
    Hanging on the wall in front of my desk is a gold framed shawdowbox with all the pins from all the Apollo Space missions mounted inside. Above the shadowbox are two shelves holding thirteen diecast 1.24-scale metal trucks. Most of the trucks are models of vehicles made between 1900 and 1947.
    Behind me are six long shelves covered with all kinds of items.
    I made the shelf array. I took a trip to a ladder supply company and bought a 20-foot-tall one-piece wooden ladder. I cut the one large ladder into two 7-foot 4-inch ladders. I sanded the two sections, stained them a nice honey color and then attached them to the celing so they would be perpindicular to the rear brick wall of my office. Then I took the six pine shelves, stained them a rich Hunter Green and placed them across the rungs of the ladder sections.
    On these shelves are more model trucks, cars and a few motor homes. I have signed baseballs (one with Roy Hobbs' autograph), a lot of paperback books including the complete works of D. Francis, (I read my first Francis novel when I was about 13), all the Harry Potter novels, the complete Lord of the Rings as well as the Chronicles of Narnia . Sitting alongside of the books are their DVD collections.
    I have on display Pez dispensors, ceramic and plush Disney characters, a collection of books and DVDs about the Civil War and World War II. There is also a number of telephony novelty items like a wind-up walking telephone.
    I have an old small horseshoe that I keep on one of those shelfs. On the wall of my office, just to the right of those shelves, is a wooden plaque made by my father. Two things are mounted on this plaque. One is a small brass plate with my name and birth date engraved on it. The second item, above the brass plate, is a wooden carving of a Conestoga wagon. This carving used to be mounted on the headboard of a wagon wheel bunk bed.
    The bunk bed belonged to me when I was a young boy back in the late 1950s. I slept in that bed under the same-style bed spread that was on Beaver Cleaver's bed. I had a model of Nellie-Belle, the jeep from the Roy Rogers' show on my dresser along with a model of Trigger, Roy Rogers' horse.
    Just before I went to bed I would remove my Hop a Long Cassidy wristwatch and place it back in its saddle-shaped box that was on my desk. Also on the desk was my horseshoe with my name engraved on it. This horseshoe came from Williamsburg and was bought during a first or second grade field trip.
    The Roy Rogers action toys have long disappeared and so has the watch. The horseshoe and the wagon carving, I still have. They remind me of a time that was so much simpler than it is now. It was a time when it was easy to tell the bad guys from the good ones because the good guys wore white hats and the bad guys black. Back then TV was black-and-white and no one disagreed that father knew best. I keep the horseshoe as a reminder of summer vacations without a care in the world, as well as no air conditioning. I keep the plaque to remind me of the time we played outside, and everyone one knew everyone else in the neighborhood. I keep it to remind me of baths just before bedtime, half hour news shows, trips to Highs Ice Cream, or to the drug store for a Cherry Coke.
    I keep the horseshoe and that wooden wagon carving to remind me that yes, a long time ago, I was once a young and happy kid.
    Gramps
  15. -Gramps-

    The Tango

    By -Gramps-,

    Before Diane and I became Motorhome owners, and before my son entered college, we were avid cruisers. This is the story of our first one, which took place a bunch of years ago. This story, which I wrote years ago, will take up some blog space until next week when we shall once again hit the road in our UFO and I write about it.
    THE TANGO
    My wife Diane is always collecting stories and anecdotes from people. For years if she hears something interesting from somebody she will tell me about it. She will cut things out of the newspaper or a magazine and stick it on the refrigerator door for me to find. She also reads me e-mail. Just the other day she found a piece of mail that her cousin Elaine sent her months ago. Somehow it ended up in some pc desktop folder somewhere and she overlooked it. She found it just the other day, the same day she was told that her mother has Alzheimer's Disease.
    God woke a man during the middle of the night and told him that he would find a very large rock in his front yard. God told the man to get up and push it. The man wanted to do what God told him so he went outside and started pushing the rock. He pushed with his hands, his back and with his legs. He gave it everything he had but the rock would not move, not one little bit. For hours everyday he would push it.
    One night while lying in bed, exhausted from all the pushing, the devil came to him and said, "Why do you bother, you have not moved that rock at all. You are nothing but a failure."
    The man thought about this and complained to God. "Hey God what about it? I have pushed that rock for months now and it still sits there! Why tell me to move it when I can't?"
    God answered, "I never said anything about moving the rock, I told you just to push it. You can't move the rock. Only I can move it ... but now your legs are stronger, your back is stronger, your hands are tough and calloused …now you are no longer weak."
    My wife is strong. For years the rock that she pushed looked a lot like my head. We have been through some tough times, many of them Derrick-inflicted. I choose to be driven by a need to be successful in business (so driven that I took our savings and put them into a cash bleeding business without telling her) as opposed to being successful as a husband and father. But Diane keep pushing. One night God moved the rock.
    In May 1985, Diane spent four weeks in the hospital pregnant with our son Joel. She developed acute toxemia along with high blood pressure and spent most of those four weeks laying on her right side with the rails up on her bed and just over her head, a tongue depressor taped to the wall. At the end of three weeks Joel was delivered early by Caesarian section. He entered into this world with a very bad set of lungs. After delivery Diane's blood pressure shot up so high, it put her on the edge of a stroke. I could have lost them both.
    God took the rock from her and put it in my court, so to speak. In the span of one night I started to remember what was most important in my life, Diane and my kids. That night, I did a lot of pushing, or should I say praying? My son, who is now a champion cross-country runner, and my wife recovered. I started to recover but it took a while. I sold the business two years later; it also took me awhile to realize it was not much of a loss.
    So, Diane and I continued our cruise called life together, and this day found ourselves on this nice white ship ....
    We played a few more games of shuffleboard. She approaches the game with a lot of patience and moves the puck gracefully to the end of the court. Me, I slam the thing like Osama himself is my opponent and I want to tear his toes off, thus the phrase 10 OFF. "Not so hard" she says, hopping around on her left foot after failing to yield to a flying red disk. "For Pete's sake, it's only a game not a missile launching," So we went to the game room and tried our hand at Scrabble, where this time she beat the pants off me.
    Later that afternoon we went poolside to catch a few rays and a few hamburgers and check out a snorkeling demonstration. We planned to snorkel on our own at Playa Del Carmen the next day and at Cozumel with a group (including our tablemates Blair and Larry) the day after that. We hung around the pool for awhile, watched a few guys shoot skeet. Some of the shooters were a bit Coronafied so the clay pigeons were in no real danger. "Pull!" BANG! "**** I missed!" was often heard as the afternoon progressed. I was surprised to see how tall and how many drinks were being served. I was also surprised that the pool was full of saltwater.
    We did not stay around the pool too long. Diane "convinced" me that we would have fun taking a ballroom dance lesson in the Disco. I knew how to dance, well I could move anyway and do whatever it was that we did in the early 70's that we called dancing. We headed back to our cabin, grabbed a quick spritz, you could hardly call that thing a shower, changed and headed up to the Disco.
    We were the first potential students in the disco. There was a small couple there that looked to be quite a bit older than Diane and I. The woman was arranging chairs around the small dance floor and the man (who I couldn't help noticing was wearing a bad toupee) was setting up a portable record player on a table. We said hello and found them to be very animated and friendly. We made introductions all around. Their names were Lenny and Thelma. More people arrived so Lenny and Thelma suggested that to get things rolling they would demonstrate the dance that they were about to teach. Lenny started the record player and over the first few recognizable notes of the music announced in dramatic fashion that we were, in one lesson, going to become masters of "THE TANGO"….. Oh boy. It begins like this; the Man steps forward, woman steps backward.
    I watch them carefully. They seemed to know the proper steps but something seemed wrong. It did not look exactly like any Tango I had seen done on TV or in the movies, but of course that is not real life. We were on a cruise ship, which is closer to real life… right? STEP,STEP,STEP,,,SLIDE.,, STEP,STEP,STEP,SLIDE…I whispered to Diane that it looked like they were trying not to step in something nasty, getting in it anyway and then wiping their feet on the floor trying to get it off.. She told me to shut up. STEP, STEP, STEP, SLIDE, STEP, STEP,,DIP. Thelma received a halfhearted backwards bend from her partner. I think Lenny was afraid that if he bent over too far his toupee would end up on her nose. I thought to myself do I really want to learn this? "Yes you are going to do this with me" I forgot that Diane reads half empty minds. Out on the floor we went.
    Some frustrated minutes and bruised toes later we finished our lesson. It was my opinion, that trying to learn the Tango as one's first attempt at ballroom dancing coupled with the fact that the dance floor moved on its own every now then seemed a bit hard if not downright silly.
    Diane loved it, so it is just possible that my opinion was all wet.
    We finished our lesson, gave our thanks to our instructors and headed off to afternoon tea. Now that was something that I could handle without a lesson.
    Afternoon tea was great, lots of horse-d-ovaries, canapés and things like that. Dinner was only two and half hours away so Diane nibbled. I stuffed myself. Afterwards we strolled below to our cabin to get dressed for the first formal night.
    Diane wore a very attractive light blue and pink silk dress with a simple string of pearls and flat shoes. I put on my best suit, (it happened to be kaki colored) white shirt, tie and leather soled shoes. It did not take us long to change so we had some time to kill before dinner. Diane suggested we go up to the ballroom and practice what we had learned at our Tango lesson….oh boy. Sure why not. She smiled and headed up the stairs. I head down, reluctantly followed.
    Well, folks I tried, I really did. We must have been working at it for about thirty minutes
    when I did it, I creamed Diane's left foot. I mortally wounded those perfect little toes of hers. At the moment of impact tears came to all our eyes. "Oooooowwwww!"
    Off came her shoe and she limped to the nearest chair and set down hard. I expected her to heave her shoe at my head but she held on to it and her temper.
    I was just about to make an emphatic apology when I heard a male voice behind me say "Could you use some help?" I turned around to see a handsome older couple standing by the edge of the dance floor. He was a tall man wearing an obviously custom made tuxedo with a hand tied (at the moment untied) tie and she, much shorter than him, was wearing gold lame' evening slacks with an elegant orange blouse and matching fingernail polish. He reminded me of Tony Bennett and she looked like Janet Leigh, the way she looked in 1987. I don't remember their names so I will Call them Tony and Janet.
    Diane, who by this time was worried that I might turn her toes into something that resembled Vienna Sausages, of course said "Yes, we would appreciate any help you can give us." She never asked what kind of help he was offering. We introduced ourselves.
    "I see you must have taken Lenny's Tango lesson today." I nodded yes. Tony continued. "Well, Lenny is a very nice man"
    "His hair isn't" Janet interjected. Tony smiled, so did I
    "As I was saying, Lenny and Thelma are very nice people, but they have no business giving dance lessons. For some reason Lenny thinks he can, and the captain lets him because he cruises on this ship about sixteen times a year. He practically lives here….anyway, let Janet and I show you how the Tango should be done."
    He took her by the hand and the waist, and immediately she seemed to grow a foot taller. He stepped forward, no change that, he glided forward she moved back and across the floor they moved like mercury. No music, not a sound except the smooth rustling of their clothes. They moved as one, smooth and fluid …..one two three, one two three
    This is how to dance the tango!
    Feel the blood rise to your face
    with every beat;
    while an arm winds like a snake
    around a waist that is about to break.
    This is how to dance the tango
    and I swore their feet never came off the floor, like they were ice skating. I was amazed.
    Somewhere I read that the Tango has beat, impact and nuances. It is not a soft wave turned into music, it is the deepest dance in the world.
    Tony and Janet walked over to us. '' Now we show you" Tony took Diane by the waist and Janet took my hand and said….
    "The Tango is a dance of seduction. The man must lead, he must lead forcefully, he steps forward the woman steps backward, and you move like water across the floor. And you move as one okay?. Now take my waist and lead me. No do not look at your feet. You cannot seduce a woman by looking at her feet, you must look her deep in the eyes, again!….good, good now you are catching on''
    I thought I must have been terrible. Tony said "you know Janet and I watched you too dancing last night, you are very good together even when doing it wrong. You should take lessons. Well, we enjoyed it. Derrick, we will see you on the dance floor tonight eh?"
    I nodded yes. "Good, I may ask to dance with your beautiful wife again."
    The announcement came over that Main Seating was now being served.
    I had completely forgotten about dinner. Can you believe that?
    Now you may have noticed that this story seemed to be missing a beggining. That is so. Therefore before I tell you more about the Tango let me start from the very beginning. Originally it was written for a cruise blog and took days. You get the pleasure of reading it all at once!
    The Railing
    I am writing this while on hold with the Virginia Dept of Taxation in order to stop collections proceedings for a business tax bill that I have already paid and the check has cleared the bank. This is something that I have to do at least once a year. I keep hearing the same hold announcements over and over again along with Grazing in the Grass. It is in moments of stress like these that I imagine myself back on the deck of a cruise ship.
    In October of 1987, to celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary, my wife Diane and I went on our first cruise. It was a present from her father and it could not have come at a better time. For the previous four years I ran a start up telecommunications company that I was part owner of. In spite of, or because of, the fact that I gave it fifteen hours out of most days, I was not able to get it off the ground. So in June of that year my partners decided to sell it. I went to work for the very old, and very well set in their ways, family owned company that bought it. My going to work for them was part of the purchase agreement. The transition from boss to upper level manager was a little rough so I needed a vacation even if I didn't think so myself.
    We gave a lot thought to the cruise in the days leading up to it. Planning as a WE is one of the best consequences of cruising. What documents do we bring. What do we wear. What excursions do we take. We had not been a We in a while. We is good.
    The first day was a long one. The flight to Miami was fun, the embarkation was fun. Watching the other cruise ships leave with ours was fun. Our ship was the Chandris Galileo. She was a 28,000 ton dazzling white beauty with a big blue X on her stack.
    We found our little orange carpeted cabin with the RV like bathroom, explored the ship, held hands, more than we had in years, had an unbelievable dinner, went dancing, went to bed. I was beginning to feel like a new man. After Diane went to sleep I went up on deck for a solitary stroll. I walked aft to a part of the Promenade deck that jutted out over the sea. I turned around and faced forward. Completely alone, I could see down the whole length of the ship. The sky was full of stars. The ocean was a luminous deep blue. In the distance was the lighted outline of our companion cruise ships. The only sound was a divine mixture of the wind, the sea, and the thrum of the ship. I held on to the cool smooth mahogany, closed my eyes and just stood there with the warm 18 knot wind in my face. I remembered something. A verse. "He leadeth me beside still waters. He restoreth my soul."
    I could taste salt. It may have been the spray or it might have been tears. Maybe a bit of both.
    Night and Greek Sunrise
    I did not sleep much that night. A more accurate way of phrasing it would be I stayed awake well that night. I crawled back into bed with Diane, which was a tight fit since we were sharing a single bed. (Our cabin had an upper berth and two lower beds but I never asked if they could be converted into one.) I laid there, while gently rocking, listening to the sounds around me. Our outside cabin was on the lowest passenger deck and as a result the sound of the ocean was quite strong. There was also a regular creak like a rocking chair accompanied by a clicking noise as the ship moved back and forth then up and down. Creak click, creak, click. In the pale light from our large porthole I could see that the bathroom door latch was a bit loose. ( If I left the door open it would inform us just how much the ship was listing). The motion, the ocean, the creak, muffled steps down the corridor, my wife's baby like snoring, all told me that the ship was alive and breathing. It was one of the most peaceful nights of my adult life.
    Sometime before the first gray-blue light of morning I was jostled awake by a very attractive Greek woman rolling across me on her way out of our bed. I awoke to the pleasant sight of Diane in her Adam and Eve nightgown falling to the cabin floor with one brown barefoot trapped in the corner of the blanket. She gave her tootsies a liberating yank, at the same time informing me that we had a dawn to catch. Seeing the dawn was not the first thing on my activity list and I raised an inquiring eyebrow. She was literally hopping into her shorts, at the same time telling me No!, we are going to see the dawn, get dressed! Not being completely stupid I obeyed and then grabbed my Minolta.
    I watched Diane's backside (couldn't help myself) as we headed up to the Lido Deck or the Promenade Deck, or the Captain's Deck, one of those decks just in time to see a very distant dark white cloud show the first sign of a new paint job. I steadied my camera on the rail and did not have a long wait for God to put on a very good light show. It was glorious. I happened to look to me left and in the distance an ever enlarging Island was exhibiting its own amazing color changes. The Island of Key West seemed to be sailing toward us at the same time we were moving toward it. I looked at the Sunrise shining on my Greek Girl's smiling face. There was only one thing to say
    What's for Breakfast?!
    The Promenade Deck (sit down and eat your prunes)
    "Sir, breakfast in now being served for first seating in the dining room and the breakfast buffet is on the Promenade Deck."
    I turned around and there was a young lady in white shorts and a yellow shirt with a Staff badge on that said Juli no e. I thanked her.
    Breakfast on the Promenade Deck. Made me feel special. The Promenade Deck. The Lido Deck. The Captain's Deck. The MAIN Deck. All these names have a certain old fashioned charm and romantic quality about them. They remind me of the days before the big war (I wasn't there) or even earlier when gigantic 45,000 to 75,000 ton cruise ships crossed the Big Pond on a regular basis. The Mauritania, The Queen Mary, The France, the United States (for years she was dejectedly docked close to my home, Her once magnificent red stacks peeling sheets of paint. It was hard to keep my eyes off her as I made my morning commute). The United States and the others were iron ships with hearts made of brass, mahogany and teak. In those days three types of people sailed on cruises. First Class, Second Class, and Human Baggage. But all were excited at the first shout of "AMERICA". I love those deck names. I missed them when Diane and I were on Explorer of the Seas. I know they can be confusing. One of the comments I heard most often on the Carnival Sensation was "I don't know why I have to go Down to get to the Upper Deck!" Half the time I could not remember where our cabin, M44, was. I now know M stands for Main, I thought it meant Mine. Just kidding. But I digress.
    We ran down the stairs (in true maritime stairs are called ladders) one deck. We ran like we were kids trying to pass each other. We skidded up to the buffet and came to a shocked stop. I had never seen anything like it in my life. There was this huge white cloth covered table on the bleached wooden deck of this white ship with the brightest blue sea in the background covered with more breakfast food than any 50 teenage boys could possible eat. And the things they did with watermelons. They were carved in the shape of a grinning Indian with an eagle feather in his hair, a coiled snake, a woven basked with a handle, all done in one piece, and a huge vase of watermelon roses. Diane immediately said "Don't touch anything" She knows me. There were five or six members of the kitchen staff in their white coats and stiff Chef hats standing at attention behind the table, with its stacks of china plates, bowls, cups and saucers, all monogrammed with a gold X in the middle of a gold sunburst . The Chefs had omelet pans, tongs, and carving knifes drawn like sabers to fight off the evil of an empty stomach. Sausage, salmon, bagels, kiwi fruit, (I had no idea what that hairy little thing was) pomegranates, bananas, polenta, white fish, herring, olives (at least 10 kinds) French fries, home fries, hash browns, iced wine buckets with all kinds of juices including pomegranate juice, (for Gods sake how many seeds did that take), Mimosas (I still like those) and the pastries, they were piled up in a basket 3 foot high. Also Eggs Benedicts, Waffles, Inch thick French toast with powdered sugar, and scrambled eggs. I dug in.
    I had some kind of I can't believe all this spasm and jostled a little elderly lady's elbow in line in front of me. She was balancing a heavy china plate on which set a matching bowl full of stewed prunes.
    "Sorry," I said "can you believe all this food, and look at the watermelons, and..and that ship it's made of ice. I'll be damned.!"
    The little lady, prune bowl skating madly on her plate, craned her neck and squinting in the morning light looked up at me.
    "Young man I suggest you sit down and eat Your prunes! And I would like to eat mine!"
    She seemed upset so I didn't want to tell her that I hated prunes.
    Diane said she thought I should do what the lady suggested.
    "But I don't like prunes."
    Now we all know that the food on cruises is included but when your are married to someone who is very careful with money, clips coupons, and has three small kids, a husband that is six foot tall and weighs 140 pounds because he has the metabolic rate of a blast furnace, the next line in this story should come as no surprise
    "Then you shouldn't take what you're not going to eat."
    I looked at my plate, on it was a lot of stuff including smoked salmon ,olives, cream cheese, ham, those hairy brown things, a mound of scrambled eggs, which made the perfect nest for a large number of stewed prunes.
    I guess I should have paid more attention.
    Scrambled eggs
    We sat down at a table next to the railing. The sun was so bright and so hot and felt so good. Two happy people, to huge plates of food, two large wet glasses of iced orange juice glistening in the sun. As part of a pre cruise plan we deliberately ate slowly.
    "Enjoying your eggs?" Diane asked.
    Being to polite to answer with my mouth full, I gave her a grateful nod.
    "Good" She leaned closer for emphasis. "Eat it all, Stick Man."
    This was not a reference to the philosophical comment she made earlier about my prunes (at the moment sunbathing on the extreme edge of my plate) No, this comment was a not so veiled reference to a part of the same pre cruise plan. A plan she hatched on the plane down to Miami.
    We were in our seats admiring our new sneakers. (buying new sneakers, preferably Reeboks because we are stockholders, has become one of our pre cruise traditions . We buy them weeks before and don't wear them until the first day of the cruise. It's good to have a fresh set of tires when you plan to put a lot of quick miles on them}. Diane leaned over for emphasis of course and said "We need to fatten you up, we also need to relax so the plan is: rest a lot, read a lot, eat a lot, enjoy it, don't inhale it." Yes Dear. I was too thin. While running "the business" I found most meals to be inconvenient unless they were business related. I skipped breakfast, ate lunch at my desk, and most nights I arrived home so late that I had to eat alone or not at all. I more times than not, choose not at all. I had earned Diane's nickname for me "Stick Man". I was fortunate that she was still sticking with me. I owe her a lot including the fact that I can enjoy scrambled eggs.
    Before marrying Diane I hated them. My brother and I liked fried eggs. My mom did not like to cook. My dad did. My mom had to cook when Dad was out at sea. She could manage a few things, She made a mean fried chicken, fried hamburgers, fried green tomatoes, fried bacon, fried eggs. She fixed eggs the way her father liked them. Over Very Easy in bacon grease. Not bad actually, with home fries, and hot coffee sipped from a saucer. My grandfather obviously knew about heat displacement relative to surface area. This was a good cooling technique but I would not suggest using it in the My Fair Lady Dining Room.
    Back to my Mom and her eggs. . If the yolk broke the egg was no good and deserved to be punished. Attack it viciously with a fork and scramble it to death! Waste Nothing! Serve its confused and stringy remains to the boys, they will live! I had a hyper active adolescent gag reflex. Breakfast could get very ugly. Mom could get very mad. You get the picture.
    On October 9 1972 a Monday Morning that will live in infamy Diane my new bride who I loved very much was standing in our rented orange kitchen fixing scrambled eggs for her new hubby's breakfast. She called me and I came down the stairs to find this beautiful long legged Greek Girl with raven black hair that she could sit on trying to poison me. I had two choices I could refuse to eat this and risk a divorce or eat it and risk death. I chose death.
    She stood there in her baby dolls with this look on her face that only a woman can get when she has just fixed her man, now her new husband, his first meal (or his last).
    "Isn't this nice." I said.
    They did look edible, fluffy and yellow with what's this? Onions and green peppers and no bacon grease dripping from my fork. Oh well, life is an adventure and then you die.
    I took a small bite, and then a very big bite. I'm Alive! I'm Alive! Thank God almighty my wife can cook!
    THE TWO KEYS
    I am sitting at my quickly becoming obsolete computer (hey as long as it works for me) listening to Diana Krall. She is singing a good song that goes with this rambling, review- memoir, thing that I'm writing.
    How Deep is the Ocean (How High is the Sky)
    How much do I love you?
    I'll tell you no lie.
    How deep is the ocean?
    How high is the sky?
    How many times a day
    Do I think of you?
    How many roses are sprinkled with dew?
    How far would I travel
    just to be where you are?
    How far is the journey
    from here to a star?
    And if I ever lost you
    how much would I cry?
    How deep is the ocean?
    How high is the sky?
    Diane has taught me one of the keys to enjoying life and it works for cruising as well. Just roll with it. Don't be afraid to try something new (ESCARGO), don't let a past unpleasantness (refer to above egg discription) dictate your future attitude. Believe me. we have had to practice this mantra on more than one occasion. (story may follow at some point)
    There was no unpleasantness on this trip; we just let the Good Times Roll.
    We finished breakfast and began wandering around the outside of the ship waiting for our tender group number to be called. The tender from Key West was small. It looked like a Zodiac boat. So we had some time to kill before we could head for the island. The first thing I noticed was now that the ship was at anchor there were crew hanging all over her. Blue overalls were in lowered lifeboats with long handled white paint rollers, they were hanging out the portholes with rust chippers. Crew were clinging to the stack like big blue bugs with paint brushes. The never ending Battle against Rust and Corrosion was once again in full engagement. Ship Shape is the order of the Day!
    All the ships that we have cruised on have been in tip top shape. The Enchantment of the Seas had more people polishing the deck than they had passengers walking the deck (at 3 o'clock in the morning). I was afraid that if I stood in one place for too long someone with a Royal Caribbean badge would wipe me down. Ship Shape means something on these ships. It's great! If you make a mess someone else picks it up (not at home) At dinner if you don't like it send it back! (Don't try that at home!) If you want more just ask for it! (at home it depends on what your asking for) Relax! Enjoy! You are now out there, not back there!… Oh…I'm sorry…. didn't mean to get carried away, but we only have forty or so more days to go till our next one. (at the time I wrote this)
    We played a couple of games of shuffleboard ( best two out of three-I'm a shuffleboard shark, Diane didn't know that, she lost a big bet, but I can't tell you what the payout was, this is a family forum) We heard our number called so we went below, out to the tender dock on the opposite side of the boat from the island. The tender zoomed around the ship. At this distance she looked absolutely enormous. I started snapping pictures like crazy, Around we went and then the island came into view. We held hands, would you look at that Jimmy Buffets place. Neat.
    Now let's review our Plan: relax, go slow, don't inhale it. To **** With That! We had exactly 3 hours and 42 minutes to see the whole island of Key West ... Run!
    What's that over there? Hey would you look at that, is that a zucchini tree? Oh I thought they grew in trees. That shop looks cool lets go over there! Why? I forgot to pack my swimsuit. I set it out for you stupid! That one looks great on you. No it doesn't make your legs look skinny, your legs are skinny. I'm thirsty, we gotta grab a cup of that red stuff over there, I don't care if it cost 4 dollars, time is money! I want a picture of that. Hold Still! Are you trying to take a picture of it or me? Where is Hemingway's house?, I know it must be around here somewhere. Let me have that map, you have never been able to read a map. Here it is. How do you know? I don't see a sign. It must be, look at all the people standing in front of it. They are lost too. Man, its almost time to head back and I'm hungry. Hungry? You should have eaten your prunes. I don't like prunes. Wait, Derrick, Derrick look mother of pearl earrings exactly like the necklace you bought me in San Francisco, can we buy them, please?, please? Diane, if they make you happy get them, have anything that you want. You mean it? We didn't bring a lot of money you know. Diane this is a once in a lifetime trip get them. Oh, I love them, thank you. Kiss, Kiss, gotta go.
    We made it back to the ship and I really was hungry. As for the prunes, I figured I was better off without them. Key West was a moving experience good enough for me (sorry couldn't resist).
    After the Second Tango Lesson
    We left the ballroom and headed to the dining room. Larry and Blair were already seated and Enzo was patiently waiting for us. We sat down. My hope was that the dinner conversation would be better than it was on the first night. The first night consisted of introductions, where froms, airline critiques, and things like that. Tonight we got to the what do you dos. Larry became a little deflated when I informed him that I owned my own company and had recently sold it. I guess he was overwhelmed because he thought I was a mucho successful business owner. He perked up when my wife told him that I had to sale or go bust. With pride, he told me that he was in the hardware distribution business. He seemed to deflate again when Blair translated that to mean he worked in his father's hardware store. I found that interesting and told him so. I also told him that I earned the money to pay for the technical school that I had attended by working for a summer in a hardware store. That's nice, he said.
    Actually the summer I spent working at Reynolds's True Value Hardware was a good one. I learned about good and bad customer service. I learned that there are both good and bad customers. I learned that they are called wing nuts not butterfly nuts. (There is a joke there but never mind) I learned how to rip plywood, thread pipe, avoid a mad female Doberman, assemble lawn mowers, bicycles, and all kinds of lawn furniture. I also learned how to demonstrate and sell portable washer and dryers, pop up campers, power tools and vacuum cleaners. I learned that anything sold to the maritime industry is expensive because they need it in a hurry, and it needs to be made of brass.
    Of course when I worked there I had no idea that I would one day make good money traveling around the world installing phone systems on ships. That's one of the things I do now. They are expensive and there is some brass involved. And they usually need them in a hurry, even when it means traveling to Diego Garcia.
    Tonight I ordered the Prime Rib and a good bottle of wine to share. The wine seemed to make dinner a little more enjoyable. We chatted for a while, drank for a while, ate dessert, finalized our plans for the next day and headed off to the Fantasy Lounge to try out our new Tango skills.
    As soon as we walked into the lounge, Tony and Janet spotted us and waved us over to two seats next to them. We sat down and not being drinkers ordered a couple of Virgin Coladas. The drinks arrived, they where not Virgins. After a couple of sips we didn't care.
    Janet tapped Diane on the knee and pointed to the dance floor. Our first instructors Lenny and Thelma were there doing their thing. Janet said they looked like a couple of strutting pigeons. The description seemed quite accurate to me.
    Tony asked me if he could dance with Diane, and of course I said sure. Tony offered Diane his arm and they walked to the floor. Tony then said something to the band leader and a couple of seconds later the band started playing the Tango. Diane and Tony glided across the floor like they had been dancing together for years. It looked magical. Thelma and Lenny, they looked, well they looked like they had been strutting together for years.
    The dance ended, Diane and Tony, who seemed to be limping slightly, sat back down. I then found out that Tony was a professional dancer and dance instructor. He had danced musical theatre and also owned a number of dance studios. He retired from dancing professionally after breaking his ankle in a car accident. Now his and Janet's full time job was cruising. He also told me that if the conditions were just right, his ankle would quit hurting and allow him to glide across the floor once more. Twice today the conditions had been just right.
    I think Diane was flattered. She should be.
    She and I danced until the place closed. We then went for a walk and sometime in the AM went to bed in our single bunk. It was a tight fit, which after a few minutes became even tighter.
    The next day while at Playa del Carmen we were entertained by the crew. They challenged us (the passengers) to volleyball, horseshoes, and tug of war. They let go of the rope during that contest. My butt was bruised for days when I landed on somebody's knee. I also received very good sunburn that day. I slept in the other bunk that night. Diane was disappointed I'm sure.
    I never finished the story of this cruise ... so to be continued, maybe.
  16. -Gramps-

    Daniel

    By -Gramps-,

    I have enjoyed being part of the motor home community. It means a lot to me. More than I can possible say. At this moment I am at Deer Creek Motorcoach Resort in Galax. It has been my refuge for the last few days. I am surrounded by my friends and I have needed them and they have been here for me. Yesterday I lost one of my grandsons. I never got the chance to meet him. Diane had to fly down to Florida to be with our daughter and her husband after we learned that her unborn baby boy who was going to be with us in just a few weeks was not going to be with us for long. I couldn't go with her and so I have been leaning on the community here and hugging the dog. I guess it has been Teddy's job to wash away my tears...and there has been a lot of them.
    As usual when I and my family are going thru a tough and emotional time I pray and I write........
    Daniel, my dear grandson:
    You were with us for such a short time today and then you were gone. Your life was a sunset, here for a moment and then no more. Now your Mother, Father and Grandparents are left with memories of what we hoped you would bring to our lives. We looked forward to hearing you laugh, seeing you smile, holding you in our arms.
    You are loved by your Mom and Dad and your brother and the rest of your family. I hope you know that.
    The Bible tells us that you are wonderfully made, designed by God Himself. The book of Psalms says that God knew you before he placed you in your mother's womb. You must be something really special for God to change His mind and take you back to be with Him. I know you are special. You were so small and only hours old when you had to leave us. But I promise you, you have already done what only a child of loving parents can do. You have brought your Mom and Dad closer together. You have made them love your big brother all the more. You have made us all draw closer to God.
    There is a time to be born, a time to die, a time to laugh and a time to be sad and a time to morn. Only God knows why the time between those things is short or long.
    Daniel don't be sad for us, don't morn for us, we will survive.
    Daniel, I want you to laugh!
    I want you to shout for joy because you are with your Heavenly Father!
    There is one more thing I want you to do. When Jesus comes to your room, and I know you have one, because the Bible says so, and he offers you His hand to hold and says, "Let's take a walk," go with Him.
    When He shows you all the wonderful Heavenly things He has made including the planets and the stars, remember that all of us, your Mom and Dad, your brother, and your grandparents will be looking at them too. Daniel, we will be thinking of you and looking forward to the day that we can take that walk together.
    With all my love,
    Your Grandfather.
    In Memory of Daniel Thomas Wheeler
    Born 5/4/2011 Died 5/4/2011
    .
  17. -Gramps-
    We have been sitting on lot #3 at the Deer Creek Motorcoach Resort (The one in Galax, Virginia) for about 18 days now, give or take a day. For most of the last five it has been raining hard. If there was ever any question about how well our coach roof is sealed, we now have the answer ... it is definitely waterproof. I performed maintenance on it just before the monsoon arrived.
    I washed it, resealed some of the seams with self-leveling Dicor sealant, the kind that needs a caulk gun to apply, and repaired some holes and rips in the slideout toppers. I also spray painted the chassis rails with black rust killing paint. That operation was more for cosmetics than anything else.
    This visit to Deer Creek has been a bit of a strange one. It started out with the promise of sunshine, golf and walks in the woods. Two days after our arrival, tragedy came. It forced us to change our plans and make new ones. Diane flew to Florida from Greensboro, North Carolina, on May 4. She returned on Mother's Day. Teddy Bear and I met her at the airport. It was clear from her expression that it had been a rough trip. The flight was okay; it was the event itself that was so tough to go through. Watching your grandson be born only to see him die a few hours later is not something that I personally want to be a witness to. I suffered the loss from the comfort of my coach, surrounded by God's countryside and with friends close by. Diane was right there with our daughter and husband. There are no adequate words to express the sadness that fell over all of us, but for those in the hospital it was such a deep emotional experience that it drained some of the life out of them.
    Now comes the questions, most of which have no answers, or maybe they have the same answer and that is, "We can't know why some things happen, just trust that the Lord is in charge." What else can be said when it comes to the death of a newborn baby? What else can be said when a pregnancy goes wrong and forces a child that can't survive to be born early? It seems like a simple, almost-cliche answer, but it is the only one that will allow the one asking it to have any peace. "Just trust the Lord."
    Now we are trying to get on with our lives. Diane lost a week, so to speak, here at Deer Creek, so we added another one. That would have been fine if it wasn't for the fact it has rained and rained and then rained some more. We have managed to make a quick trip to Mt. Airy for some walking and shopping. We did have a picnic up on the Blue Ridge Parkway and hike one of our favorite trails. I lost a camera lens hood during that trip. I dropped it in a swift flowing creek and it disappeared downstream before I could get to it. Normally, losing an expensive camera accessory, which has happened a couple of times over the years, would bother me to no end, but this time it annoyed me for only a few minutes.
    Now I am just sitting here in the coach, looking out the bedroom window at the dark clouds still hanging over our heads. I am asking God to move them on, blow them away, the clouds in the sky and the ones in my heart. Pour on the Sunshine because we need to know that sunny warm days still are possible. They are, of course. Everything passes and most of the time it gets better. It takes just that ... time.
    Family helps.
    My Mom and Dad drove up from Lexington for one day. We took a trip north on the Parkway to a quaint little place called Fancy Gap. We ate sandwhiches a a great little deli ... the Gap Deli, as a matter of fact. Then we went shopping at a gift/garden center. I bought a large concrete Wren for one of our flower beds. Diane bought a hand painted weathered board from a barn. It has flowers and Welcome painted on it. We later added the number 3 to it. After visiting the gift shop we went to a clothing outlet. Both Mom and Diane found something really nice but still really cheap or should I say low priced.
    We drove back to Deer Creek in a hugh downpour.
    Friends help.
    The day after Diane left for Florida, Gordy and Bill, two of my fellow owners and neighbors, convinced me to go golfing at Gordy's club. I didn't feel much like it but Diane told me to listen to them and go. I played with some distraction but the fellowship was really good.
    While Diane was away I attended a Derby Day Party and Fish Fry at our clubhouse. I provided a large salad made of white and red grapes, blue cheese crumbles, walnuts, red cabbage and romaine lettuce. I dressed it with a home made fresh vinaigrette made from fresh lemon juice, chives and light olive oil. It contained no vinegar so maybe it should have been called a lemongrette.
    I bet on the favorite horse "Dialed In" to win but I lost a buck to the person who bet on "Animal Kingdom" the 34 to one long shot. Good thing I didn't have to pay out according to the odds.
    Keeping busy helps.
    I extended the the Wi-Fi to the back of the resort. It wasn't that hard to do.
    I installed a wireless repeater. Due to the rain I have not permanently mounted it. Hopefully I can do that before the week is out.
    There are plenty of ways to keep busy when owning a motor coach.
    I washed the coach last week.
    I have washing and waxing the coach down to a science.
    I use Blue Coral concentrated car wash and a deck brush on the roof of my coach. It is a stronger detergent based cleaner and has brighteners in it. It does a great job of cleaning a white fiber glass roof and will remove stains from chalking and rubber really well when applied at full strength. It will steak the side of the coach so always wash the roof first. Don't wash it at all unless prepared to clean the whole coach.
    For washing the coach I use the Mr Clean Pro system. It is no longer in production which keeps me from buying the filters and the special cleaner for the system. They might be available online but I don't feel like going to the trouble of buying that way. After some experimenting I found easily available substitutes for the water filter and the cleaner. I use an inline water filter readily available at Wal-Mart and for the cleaner I found that Armour All Extreme Shine car wash, the orange stuff, and a long handled soft bristle brush works very well.
    I prefer to use Protect All when waxing the coach. Unfortunately, it is not as easy to get as it used to be. Wal-Mart's RV section has shrunk to almost nothing over the last few years and they had the best price. Now they don't carry it at all. The next best thing is once again an Armour All product....Extreme Shine Detailing Spray. It is made with Carnuba wax, sprays on easily and wipes right off. Just like Protect-All it can be used on all surfaces including chrome, clear coat, rubber and glass.
    I removed the non working wet bay heater. I directly connected it to my chassis battery and discovered that the heater functions fine. I still have a problem. I spent one day cleaning the inside of the coach which included repairing my wife's Dyson vacuum cleaner. I repaired a rattling bedroom speaker. Just a bit of Elmer's glue around the copper braided wires that pass through the paper cone of the speaker stopped the noise. I purchased an old fashioned foot edger. That tool and a bit of foot work improved the looks of pad #3 It now has a nice clean edge, full of standing water, all the way around.
    Writing helps.
    I wrote a letter to my grandson. I can't reread it without crying, but it still helped to write it.
    I am writing now and it feels pretty good to be doing so.
    Reading helps.
    After delivering Diane to the Airport, I purchased a book in a gift shop/bookstore. It is "The Art of Racing in the Rain." It is the sad and happy story of the life of a dog written from his point of view. That is an idea not foreign to me at all....
    I finished reading it in one day. The same day Daniel was born and died.
    The book made me think that it is just possible that my grandson is playing catch on some beautiful piece of very green grass somewhere with Nickolas my dog.
    I will be with them one day.
    For now, I will enjoy being with Diane, my kids and grandsons, Teddy Bear, and my friends.
    I will also keep busy until one day gets here.
  18. -Gramps-

    Remembering.

    By -Gramps-,

    Diane, Teddy Bear, and myself are doing well today. It has been a hectic and yes stressful couple of months. Today however I don't want to write about that. I will soon. Today I want to be hopeful, to remember that even during rough times there is a greater power at work. So until I can find the time to write again, I thought it would be good to reprise one of my entries, one that seems appropriate considering the significance of today.
    Derrick
    Just a few days before I had this dream that Diane, while walking Nickolas our dog, was attacked by a pit bull. It almost killed her. Maybe that event triggered the dream. Who knows, the human mind and spirit are wonderful mysteries.
    I Had a Strange Dream Last Night
    I had a strange dream last night. I was having trouble sleeping. My eyes hurt. I couldn't take the light from the clock on my stereo on top of the dresser. I finally heaved myself out of bed and moved a glass candle holder in front of that blasted blue light. Then I stumbled into the bathroom and by the faint glow of a street light coming through the curtained window, opened the medicine cabinet and struggled with a bottle of Advil. I took one with a handful of water and headed back to bed. In the short time I was gone the dog had taken my spot so I told him to move, which he grudgingly did. I crawled in next to Diane and quietly waited for the pill to take effect and help me sleep. At some point it must have worked. Maybe it worked too well.
    I found myself drifting out of my body. Slowly, I drifted about the room. I turned and saw Diane and I curled up as one, Nickolas at our feet. And then everything started to zoom out smaller and smaller until my surroundings were just a blur. I realized I was traveling somewhere at an impossible speed, but I had no idea where, but I felt no fear just a sense of patient anticipation, a strange mixture to be sure. I slowed down and began to recognize where I was, my daughter Jeri's home in Florida. I floated in place, the front of the white house illuminated by the moon. I could see the brown lizards with the blue tails, maybe the same ones I saw on my last visit, running across the walkway to her front door. I wondered how she and her husband Mark were doing, and the thought had barely entered my head when I started moving toward the door and then through it, like it was made out of strings of beads. I could feel myself pass through it; see it separate into segments around me. Once on the other side it appeared to still be solid. I floated into their bedroom, they were asleep, Jeri resting her head on Mark's shoulder. She was gently snoring. I hoped that I did not have to be concerned about them. All is peaceful here I thought.
    The room shrank and disappeared. I found myself flying to wherever again, some things around me recognizable, palm trees, street lights, buildings all blending together in stretched shades of blue and streaks of light. Soon it became so black I could see nothing around me at all. The air became warm and I could smell salt. Then I heard it. I was over the ocean. I moved out from the blackness I was in, to a stadium of stars, a carpet of luminous blue below me. Off in the distance I could see the horizon and perched on it a moving light. I drifted toward it or should I say I was moved toward it, the sea wind blowing gently around me. The lights came closer and closer and then I saw that it was a ship. Is it?....Is it?....It is! The Voyager of the Seas! No doubt about it! But why was I here? I came along the port side of the ship, drifting forward and then up to the top deck, into the bridge, always wanted to visit there, out and then down like a fast moving elevator. I found myself coming to a slow stop in the Royal Promenade. There were only a few people about, all dressed up. Tonight is obviously Formal night, I thought, and it's very late….and …hey this is the Centrum and Wow, Back up! I passed through the decks, one by one and slowed down, turned through the pastel passageway past a familiar Egyptian art display in a glass case and found myself parked, my feet (I guess I had feet) a few inches above the carpet in front of a cabin with the number 1234 on it.
    I know this cabin. Diane and I stayed here! When was it? It must have been a long time ago. I could not remember, my memory suddenly seemed fuzzy for some reason. I slowly passed though the closed door, a sensation I knew I would never get used too, and into the cabin. There was a reading light on over the bed. In the bed was a couple, I assumed they were husband and wife. The balcony curtain was open and the door was cracked, letting the very warm sea breeze blow the shears across the foot of the bed. I could hear the sea massaging the ship. On the couch was a cast off tux, white shirt and tie. A long black velvet dress was hanging neatly from the divider next to the couch. I caught the glint of one gold cuff link sitting next to a gold watch on the nightstand. I hung there and made a slow spin. On the coffee table was a glass of water, numerous bottles of pills, and a partially consumed yellow cake. It has to be their anniversary, I thought. I turned around a bit more. I could see the reflection of the room in the mirror, but the reflection did not include me. I found that a bit curious. I took a closer look at the two people. Though the room felt very warm, she looked pale and was covered up to the chin, except for one arm, with a familiar brown blanket. They looked about my age, maybe a bit younger. I noticed that their hands were clasped so tightly together that the knuckles were white, like they were holding on to each other for dear life.
    "They have been together as Man and Wife for over thirty years."
    My heart leapt in my disembodied chest. I had never heard that voice before but I recognized it at once. A tremendous feeling of peace came over me. I could not speak.
    They have? I thought.
    "Yes, and they have known each other since second grade."
    I looked at those intertwined fingers, and thought there is something wrong.
    "She's dying"
    My feeling of peace started to leave. I found my voice "Why? From what?"
    "Does it matter what?" said the voice gently.
    "No, I guess not." I said "She must be really scared."
    "She is more afraid for him than he is for her" answered the voice.
    "Why, is that? She's the one who is dying!"
    "She is afraid for him because he does not believe in me."
    And then I understood her fear, and I began to understand something else too.
    "He won't ask you to make her well will he?" I said.
    "He refuses, only because he does not know how to ask me."
    "Hasn't she asked you?"
    "She loves him so much that she only talks to me about him."
    "But she believes you can make her well doesn't she?"
    "She believes."
    "So do I."
    "Yes, I know that", said the voice.
    There was a sudden burst of lightning off in the distance. It filled the room like a reflected flash. I looked down at the woman and I could see color come into her face and lips. Her breathing became deeper and a bead of sweat broke out on her upper lip. She let go of her husband's hand sat up looked around the room and I could have sworn she looked right at me.
    "It's hot in here" she said softly.
    And then she kicked the blanket off onto the floor, rolled over on her stomach and put her arm around her husband. It started raining, the wonderful sounds and smells of one of those random little Caribbean squalls being pushed through the open balcony door by a cool breeze.
    I knew it was time to leave. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the somewhat creepy pass back through the door but in an instant my eyes were shocked back open by the sound of loud techno dance music. I was in the Vault. The place was packed. The lights were flashing. I was standing in the back part of the lounge. And I was no longer disembodied. I was wearing my single button tux, wing collared shirt, and the blue brocade vest I wore to our daughter Jeri's wedding. This was weird to say the least. Even stranger was that I knew, somewhere in the room, was a man and a woman that I was supposed to meet. I had to talk to the man first. I went upstairs to the second level bar and walked over to a young man, with a military style haircut, in his thirties most likely, who was sitting at the bar sipping a Coke.
    "Scott?"
    He turned around and gave me a somewhat puzzled look.
    "Yes…do I know you?" he asked.
    "Not exactly, but we do have a mutual friend, who told me to look you up… can I sit here and talk for a minute?"
    "Sure'' he answered. "Who told you I would …"
    Before he could finish his question I had planted myself on a bar chair and interrupted him.
    "I know you recently returned from a very tough tour of duty in Afghanistan. I know you went active from the reserves so you could go there because your sister was killed in the World Trade Center on 911. I know you are on this cruise at the suggestion of friends, who think, or hope that you will meet a, or should I say, The girl who might help bring a little joy back into your life. Am I right?"
    He looked shocked and after a pause and a swallow of his drink he answered.
    "Ah, yea, correct on all counts" he said. And then with a smile added "They told me they were praying that I would find her on this cruise."
    I looked at him hard. "If I told you that the answer to that prayer is downstairs would you let me take you to her?"
    It was now his turn to look hard at me. He did not answer.
    I sang, "Wake up….Wake up Dead Man…Our Father...He's in charge of Heaven, and He made the world in seven…
    Scott finished for me….
    "Would you put a word in… for me…?"
    A moment of silence.
    "That word has been put in. Will you let me take you to her?" I gently asked again.
    He choked out one word
    "Yes."
    "Okay, let's go"
    We walked down the glass stairs to the lower section. On the way I told him a little about Ginny, the girl that he was about to meet.
    "She likes daisies and roses. Her favorite food is seafood and she loves steamed mussels. She likes to dance swing, but she hasn't done it in quite awhile. Her favorite music group is U2. I saw the incredulous look on his face and told him it is my favorite group as well.
    "I am going to tell you one more thing and then the rest is better left up to you. Her fiancé was killed at the Pentagon."
    "On 911?" said Scott.
    "Yes."
    I led the way to a table with two attractive women sitting at it. One sat quietly in her chair, the other was more animated. It was obvious that they were sisters. Not twins but close.
    "Hello there."
    They turned around and look up at us. I took Ginny's hand and as I gently raised her out of her seat I said:
    "Ginny this is Scott. Scott this is Ginny. It has been divinely arranged for the two of you to meet on this night at this time and at this place. Now I think you two should sit down and start getting to know each other."
    Ginny looked nervously at me and then at Scott, who gave her a warm smile. She seemed to relax a bit and looked at her sister who was now on her feet as well.
    "This is my sister and I…'
    "Don't you worry about Barbara, she and I will finish this dance." I said
    I took the sister by the hand and as I led her to the dance floor I whispered to Scott
    "Walk on Scott, Walk on"
    He smiled. I am sure he got my message.
    Barbara looked at me like I was a mildly crazy person. We reached the floor just as the song Caught in a Moment finished playing (the evening was planned don't forget) I leaned close to Barbara's ear.
    "Scott is the direct answer to your very direct prayer. You have to keep this a secret; they will get married on your birthday."
    She started to cry.
    The song ended, the moment was over and I said goodbye.
    "I have to go." I said. "You, your sister, and Scott are going to have a good life; you just have to choose to live it."
    Barbara looked at me, nodded and said "Who are you? What is your name?"
    "My name is Derrick and I'm Diane's husband."
    I held one of her hands in both of mine for a moment and then walked out the door to the Centrum on deck three. I was not at all sure what to do next. Just a few minutes earlier I was practically a ghost and now I was literally standing in front of an elevator, by myself in a tuxedo with no place to go. I reached out and pushed the elevator button. It came; I stepped in, the carpet said Tuesday. When I went to bed it was Friday, and I seemed to remember that Voyager's formal nights were Monday and Thursday. Space and time were a bit off. I took the elevator to deck 5 because I wanted to walk the Royal Promenade as long as I could actually walk. The elevator opened and instead of turning right towards the Café Promenade and all its goodies (I don't know if I could have eaten one or not) I had the urge to turn left into Cleopatra's Needle. I walked in. The place was packed with people. It was Karaoke night just like the Tuesday night on my cruise. I stood out of the way in the back. I felt a little self conscious considering I was the only man in a tux, but no one seemed to notice me at all. I began to wonder if they could even see me. A couple of people sang and the order seemed very familiar. And then I heard my named called.
    "Is Derrick here?"
    I hesitated to answer; after all I was not sure I was really here or not. Before I could decide what to do a man sitting on the edge of the dance floor stood up and walked over to the host or hostess. She handed him the mike and said tell everyone your name, where you are from and why you are here.
    "Hi, my name is Derrick; I'm from Portsmouth Virginia……"
    A big cheer went up from the section to the left of the floor. I almost fell over because I stupidly realized that I was watching myself. Talk about Déjà vu. I had to sit down. As I took a chair next to an older couple I heard myself say:
    "… and I am celebrating my 30th anniversary. I would like to sing this song to my wife Diane who is sitting over there". He or I pointed to where she was sitting with her shoes off and her feet up on the chair in front of her.
    The other I then stepped towards Diane. There was a big cheer, as I remembered it; only out in the audience it was really loud. The music started, this time I was a spectator. I watched myself look at my wife and she looked back and neither looked away, even for a second.
    Most of the people around me were chatting with each other. But as the song progressed they stopped talking and started to listen, really listen…
    If I called you every time that I think of you…the phone would be ringing, all day.
    I keep thinking these feelings will mellow with time but not yet, no way. We've had our share of heartache and trouble, we can look back and laugh at it now, but a mystery keeps haunting me, how we hurt those we love most somehow, somehow.
    A real love expression is long overdue, so hear my confession of my love for you-I just never say it enough, and before it's too late and time's up; you're more than all I dreamed you'd be, an answered prayer, a gift of God above. But I just never say it enough.
    I believe God inhabits the human heart. I believe it more now than ever before and I see His reflection in You, in You, and I'm sure, yes I'm sure.. that a real love expression is long overdue, so hear my confession of my love for you- I just never say it enough…so before it's too late and time's up, you're more than all I dreamed you'd be, an answered prayer, a gift of God above.
    Some of the women started to cry, some of the men too. I had no idea that the song had that much impact and then I realized my face was wet also.
    But I just never say it enough. I just never say it; I just never say it enough. Nooo, I just never say it, I just never say it enough. Noooo… oh…. oh."
    I finished the song, the crowd all came to their feet and cheered, and it was loud. I watched myself put the mike back on the stand, take a little bow and run over and kiss Diane. I knew she was crying also.
    The hostess then told the audience that I was not part of the competition; I just wanted to sing something special for my wife and she hoped that after thirty years that they would be as much in love as Derrick and Diane.
    It was very strange. I wanted to soak up the moment from this perspective but I could not help but notice the older couple sitting next to me.
    The man looked familiar and then I remembered that Diane and I met him on the pier in San Juan. We were both on the Explorer and he told me he was a retired Israeli fighter pilot. He had served during the Six Day War.
    During the song the woman, who must be his wife, took his hand and stroked it. At first he did not seem to respond. But now, he twisted his seat around so that he could look directly at her.
    "I'm sorry, so sorry. I should not have gotten so mad at her. But what could I do? Now she is gone and I am dying inside. I have hurt you so much. How will we be able to look back at this? How will we be able to smile again, how can I laugh again?"
    The wife looked at him.
    "I don't know how, but we will, the song says so, somehow with God's help, we will."
    They both looked so unhappy and full of sorrow. I had a feeling that they had lost someone very close to them
    "Tell them that Sarah is with me"
    The voice startled me.
    "Derrick, tell them that their grand daughter Sarah is with me and that she is fine."
    I had to do what He said. I moved over in front of them and went down on one knee.
    "Hello, my name is Derrick…"
    They both looked at me and then looked again and then both of them looked at the couple sitting on the edge of the dance floor, the man, me, with his arm around his wife.
    I hoped that they were not about to scream or pass out or both.
    The man was speechless the woman finally spoke.
    "How can you be here and there…"
    I put my finger on my lips.
    "Shh, that is not so easy to explain. Besides I have something very important to tell you.
    Your grand daughter Sarah is in heaven, she is doing fine, and loves you both very much"
    They both stared at me for a long, long second and then the man took my arm.
    Tears ran slowly down his cheek as he told me that he had argued with Sarah about the man she planned to marry.
    "I did not approve of him at all. I did not like his family. They are not of our faith. Sarah said he is a good man, an honorable man who loves God and her. I became very angry and told her that she was as good as dead to me if she married this man."
    He had to pause. I waited.
    "She did not get the chance to marry him.. She died, at the hand of a terrorist. She was attending a birthday party for one of his friends and it was bombed. She was with him. He barley survived. I blamed him for her death. . I was a fool."
    His wife smiled gently
    "Yes you were" she said.
    "What should I do know?" he asked.
    "Love your wife, have peace, and ask the man that was to be Sarah's husband to forgive you. And be his friend. Be the Grandfather in law that you would have been. That is what you should do."
    "I think I can do that."
    I stood up, they stood with me and I embraced them both.
    "God be with you "
    "And you" he answered.
    I turned and walked out of the lounge and into the Royal Promenade. I slowly walked the length of the ship looking up at the windows of the cabins and into the shops. I thought about my time on this ship. When I was here I was relaxed. I trusted the captain and the crew to look after me and my wife. I knew that the ship and its' crew would provide everything we needed and then some. I never had the thought of telling the captain that I wanted to be in charge of my trip, that I wanted to pilot the ship because I did not like where it was going or because it was not getting there fast enough. I put my wife and my life in his hands so to speak. Should I not put the same trust into the Captain of the greatest voyage of all, the voyage called Life?
    I wanted to see the ocean so I went through the glass sliding door out to the deck. I walked over to the railing and I put my hands down on nothing. I found myself passing through the railing and out into the open air the ship slowly moving away from me. I was not worried. I must be going home.
    I floated there for a long time, the ship moving farther and farther away until once again it was just a few lights on the horizon. I looked at the millions of stars above me and the luminous blue below. And then everything became a blur again.
    I flew quickly toward home, soundlessly. I began to slow and soon I recognized the lights of my town. I have seen them from the air many times. But something seemed different; things were missing and others out of place. I drifted down to an empty downtown street. Not a soul about. Now I knew something was not right. The brand new fifteen story hotel was missing. A completed condo now looked half built. I realized that I was looking at Portsmouth some years earlier. I was not concerned, not after what had taken place the last few hours or minutes or days.
    Slowly I floated down street after street until I came to a hospital. I drifted through the front door. There were only a few people about. This had to be the past because this hospital had been closed for years. It was obvious that no one could see me. I continued up through the ceiling and found myself in the maternity ward. It was very quiet, most of the lights turned off. As I passed by an open door I could hear the sound of a new mother singing to her new baby. I moved down the hall through a partially opened door into a room. Lying on the bed was a young man, a lot younger than me anyway. His hands covered his face and it sounded like he was talking to himself, no he's praying. He had on jeans and sneakers and a gray Swatch watch just like an old watch that I own. He dropped his hands for a moment and then I knew exactly where I was and when. It was eighteen years ago, the night that my son was born; the night that he was so sick and my wife almost died. I knew she was in recovery from emergency surgery and my son was in the neonatal unit of the hospital. The man lying on the bed was me.
    For the first time during this strange trip of mine, I felt fear. The same fear and near panic I felt that May night eighteen years ago, the fear that I would loose two people. I did not want to experience that kind of fear again. I wondered why I was here.
    "You are here to tell him everything will be fine." said the voice. "You are here to tell him not to fear. That I have heard him and his family will be well."
    "How do I tell him or me? Can I see me? I mean I think I would have remembered if I met myself that night. I would have had a heart attack or something"
    I was sure I spoke out loud and it I could see that the younger me did not hear a thing.
    "Whisper to his heart and to his mind, he will hear you."
    "Lord, I don't understand, can't you do that? Why do you need me?"
    "Derrick you know the future, you know that it turned out fine, you can speak with complete confidence and the younger you needs to learn that when I speak to people, I do so quietly to their hearts and minds, and with the sound of their own voice. I don't set bushes on fire anymore. I don't write on walls. I simply give peace, a peace that is hard to understand but is very real… so speak for me."
    I did not know what else to do but move close to my own ear.
    "It's okay. Joel is fine, relax, get up and go see him. And then go to Diane and tell her that your son is doing well."
    The face of the me on the bed no longer looked strained and worried. He stretched, got up, took a sip of water from a glass on the bed tray and then left the room. I followed and watched him go into the nursery where his son, his little body full of tubes, lay in an incubator. He reached in and rubbed the little boy's back.
    I knew that Diane was just down the hall. She lay there in a morphine induced sleep. I knew she would be okay. There was only one thing that I wanted to do now.
    "Can I go home?"
    There was a very quick blur and I guess at the speed of thought, I found myself back in my bed with my feet solidly under the dog, my wife, with her bandaged ankle and arm lying exactly where I had left her, curled right next to me.
    "Where did you go?" My wife asked sleepily.
    "Honey, I have been lying here the whole night, except when I got up to get an Advil"
    "Oh, you were gone so long. I'm glad you're back."
    "Me too, go back to sleep."
    The dog yawned, I yawned and I thought about this cruise we are on. This cruise called Life. I know the captain. No need to worry.
    Derrick
  19. -Gramps-

    Looking Up

    By -Gramps-,

    Diane has spent the last week in Florida visiting our daughter, Jeri, and her family. The care of myself, Joel, the house and last but not least, Teddy Bear, has been left to me.
    That means that I need to take a high-energy, long-legged Cocker Spaniel for a walk every day or he goes stir crazy. When that happens he rings the bell hanging by the back door every ten minutes so that someone, me, will let him out.
    Getting up from the couch every ten minutes tends to spoil the continuity of the football game or whatever it is that I am watching at the time.
    I have taken him for a walk every day, except one rainy day, since Diane left. We walk in our own neighborhood. The weather has been good. The skies have been blue and the leaves are starting to have their best color. Teddy walks with his nose to the ground. Scents are like candy to him. He reads the entire local doggy P-mail at each mailbox post. He sniffs the trash cans. I give him the leash every now and then just so he can follow a scent trail until he decides to resume his happy little trot down the street. It quickly becomes obvious that my dog enjoys living in the moment.
    I have taken a cue from Teddy Bear. I don’t walk with my nose to the ground of course, but I still use my senses to enjoy the moment.
    I see. Most people tend to watch their own feet when they walk. I look up. I watch the gentle swaying of the trees in the wind. I glance at the sun as it peeks between the branches of the tall pines. I take in the contrast of the red maples against a bright blue sky. I notice the clouds moving across the sky and just like when I was a kid they start to take on shapes. One might become a ship, another a flock of sheep, another the profile of a sleeping old man.
    I listen. The wind in the trees reminds me of the ocean on a calm day with the waves gently crashing against the shore. Wind blowing through a grassy field sounds the same way. There is something about that sound, that continuity, that I find peaceful. It is a common thread that our Creator has woven though his creation.
    I smell. Well, you know what I mean. I use my nose. I smell the leaves wet with dew. I smell the wood smoke coming from fireplace chimneys that we walk by. Smells provoke memories, more than sights or sounds. When I smell wood burning, I am carried back to the mountains, where I am sitting around a campfire with my family and my friends. I remember the nights spent in a tent, looking up at the stars through the screen window, listening to the wind in the trees. I think about how my life has changed from tent to coach both literally and figuratively.
    This last Sunday Teddy Bear and I took our walk at the Portsmouth Seawall. We walked along the Elizabeth River while watching the ships in the yards across the river in Norfolk. I looked at the downtown Norfolk skyline while Teddy checked out all the smells. We listened to the water lapping against the seawall. We both watched other walkers, human and doggy. We talked to both.
    There is a boat landing built into the seawall where the ferry to Norfolk docks. Mariners visiting Portsmouth can dock there as well. As we were walking buy I smelled charcoal smoke. It took me a minute to find the source. It was coming from a metal chimney on a ketch, a sailboat. The smell made me think of salmon steaks on the grill, corn on the cob and a cold one. I wondered whether the person in the boat was getting ready to cook steaks or shrimp or just taking the chill out of his floating home.
    We spent quite a bit of time in the Portsmouth Marina, walking by the boats docked there. We gazed at a multi million dollar yacht. I looked with admiration at a wooden, teak to be exact, schooner that was built in 1938. It had either been restored or a lot of people have been giving it tender loving care for a long time. Either way it was a beautiful boat.
    Where have these boats been, I asked myself. Have any been around the world? I imagined what it must be like to be at sea, no land in sight, sailing to some exotic location.
    As I was looking at the boats, some big, some small, some huge I reminded myself that I own something like it only it is on wheels.
    I read all the names. “Sail Away,” “Endeavor II,” “The Christine Marie,” to name a few. I found the last name to be interesting because that is my daughter’s name. One of my favorite names was “Better Times.” We can only hope that is the case for us all.
    There will be better times, but right now isn’t so bad, either. Like Teddy Bear keeps telling me ... enjoy the moment.
    Well, got to go. Diane will be at the Norfolk airport in an hour. Seeing her again is a moment I am going to enjoy, for sure.
    Speaking of better times, Jeri is expecting a healthy baby boy sometime around April 7, 2012, on her son Dylan’s birthday.
    Things are looking up.
    Gramps
  20. -Gramps-

    Appreciation

    By -Gramps-,

    Well it is another new year. I am sure that we all hope it will be a good one. This last one was a bit tough for my shrinking household. We lost a grandson, my wife lost her mother, our son moved out on his own (well that is a bittersweet thing). However, there were a lot of things that happened, friends we made, places we visited, and memories that were created this last year that allows me to appreciate 2011. One thing is for sure, I sill enjoy being a part of the motor coaching community. No depreciation there!
    I am working on an idea for my first big blog entry of the new year, which should be posted later today I hope. But the Christmas decorations have to packed away first. So until I can get words down on electronic paper maybe you will find this entry from a year ago worth reading or reading again.
    http://community.fmc...9-depreciation/
  21. -Gramps-

    Signs

    By -Gramps-,

    If you are a regular reader of my blog you know that I enjoy the idea that motor homing is a metaphor for life.
    It is day four of a new year. How is this year going to be? That is certainly one question I don’t have the answer to. I am sure that many people would like to know what the future holds even if that knowledge is only about the next twelve months.
    When I was a kid I remember that there were a number of celebrity prognosticators that would make all kinds of predictions about the future. They predicted who would win the World Series, or who would win some national election or there would be an earthquake in Los Angeles that wipes out half the city. My dad used to say they would shotgun their so called prophesies. In other words make enough of them and maybe one or two might just happen.
    In my later years I would hear all kinds of people, including preachers and televangelists, predict that the world was about to end and that there would be all kinds of signs including famine, wars and an earthquake that would wipe out half of Los Angeles, foretelling and warning us of that coming event.
    The year 2000 was supposed to cause all kinds of terrible things to happen. Planes were going to fall out of the sky, the stock market would crash. For me the worst event was a lot of voice mail and phone systems crashing because they suffered from the dreaded Y2K bug. The best thing was I made quite a bit of money fixing those systems. I wrote my own program to do just that and made a lot of friends because I repaired the systems instead of replacing them.
    Now it is 2012 and people are once again looking for some kind of sign to tell them about our future or the lack thereof. According to the long gone Mayans the world is supposed to end at the end of this year. Will it be with a bang or a whimper? It seems to me that if the human sacrificing Mayans were so good at seeing into the future they would have done whatever it took to insure their own. They would have seen the signs so to speak. It there were any to see that is.
    I prefer not to worry about the end of the world. I do believe that there are signs of trouble on the horizon that we should pay attention to but I also think each day has enough trouble of its own.
    I believe that there are signs that we should pay attention to that will help us in our day to day lives, on and off the road, from getting into trouble.
    Let me simplify it for you.
    How many signs are there in your coach, signs that warn you of potential trouble if you don’t pay attention? Start looking and you may be surprised at just how many there are.
    Inside over the door of my coach was a sign that said something to the effect “make sure steps are extended before exiting.” I can’t remember the exact words and Diane peeled the sign off the wall. I asked her about that and she said “no one is going to read it when they need to cause it is posted in the wrong spot. Besides if you don’t see the steps after you open the door don’t step out of the coach!”
    That is logical but we know someone, actually it was the person who bought our Bounder, who didn’t notice the steps were not deployed after opening the door. Her two dogs jumped out of the coach before she could get them leashed (she opened the door thinking the screen would stay closed) and she went charging out after them only to fall on her face, bite through her lower lip and knock out two front teeth. Ouch!
    Next to the driver’s seat, posted to the wall above the seat belt anchor, is a little sign that says “Move cab seat forward before activating slide out.”
    Which should be easier to spot? Is it a little white note or a big captain’s chair that is too far back?
    The answer is; sometimes neither. I watched a tall salesman at an RV dealership forget to move the driver’s seat forward after he parked a coach and before he extended the main slide out. The chair was pushed off its pedestal with a loud crunch. I was surprised that the slide out didn’t stop as soon as it hit the chair. But I was also surprised when the main slide out in our coach removed the door to the cabinet housing the washer-dryer.
    Behind the curtains next to the drivers seat is a warning not to apply the parking brake while the vehicle is in motion. It also says something about the result being major damage and death or injury. No big deal.
    The third sign posted in the same spot reminds me not to press the accelerator while starting the engine. The sign says to turn the key only.
    I am not sure about that one. Is it there to help me not flood the engine? Or is it there to prevent me from plowing my coach through my one car garage?
    I suspect the first but the second might happen if I ignore the sign.
    There are more. Under my kitchen sink is a sign with lots of warnings about using propane. What to do if you smell it. There is also a list of things that could happen if you ignore this warning. The list includes explosions, fire, injury and possibly death.
    Two death warnings posted in the same coach!
    Inside the bathroom medicine cabinet door is a note about exceeding the GCWR of the coach and/or its towing capacity. What is the GCWR? It is the Gross Combined Weight rating which is made up of the CCC (carrying crappy cargo) and the weight of water in the tanks, passengers, fuel etc. It doesn’t say what happens if you exceed this GCWR (which you are supposed to consult your owner’s manual to find out how much that is) but if the results were listed I think they would include exploding tires, damage, injury and possible death!
    Makes you want to leave your coach in the driveway and hope the parking brake holds.
    There are many signs posted on the outside of my coach.
    On the fuel intake flap there is a sign that says “Unleaded Gasoline Only”.
    This sign takes on a special significance with my coach. I have a rear gas chassis. The fuel intake door is under the driver’s window….the same place you would find it if the coach were a diesel pusher. On more than one occasion I have been asked if I am using the correct fuel pump. It is one of my favorite questions. I know what kind of fuel goes in my coach but I sure want to avoid someone else making a big mistake. I can’t remember if a diesel fuel pump nozzle will not fit into a gas tank intake or if a gas nozzle will not fit into a diesel tank intake, and I don’t want to find out the hard way.
    On the gas flap is another sign. This one says to extinguish all appliances and igniters in the coach or something to that effect. Along with that is a warning that failure to comply could lead to….you guessed it….grave personal injury and or death!
    Next to the fuel warnings are warnings posted on the door to the compartment holding the propane tank. This sign is rather large and its message is posted in multiple languages. It repeats the same warning as the fuel warning label including the part about injury and death.
    Let us move farther down the coach. Inside of the wet bay we find all kinds of info posted about.
    There is a picture of a sink. Under that there is a neon yellow stick on label that reads “Warning! Clean with Windex only!”
    Thank goodness that failure to comply doesn’t result in serious injury. I hope not anyway.
    Why this warning isn’t posted in the head over the sink is a mystery to me.
    Up in the right hand corner of the bay there is a warning that says “Potable Water Only! Sanitize, flush and drain (consult owner’s manual) before using this tank!” Failure to comply (oh my goodness, not again!) could lead to serious illness or possible death!”
    I think the odds are beginning to favor death here.
    The last warning is posted next to a picture of a toilet. It reads “The sewer value must be open when using this inlet!” Now I know that the inlet posted in this warning isn’t the toilet itself, which is technically an inlet. No, the inlet is the flush valve. The sewer valve should indeed be open when back flushing or something very unpleasant might come out of the toilet.
    If my wife happened to be in the room housing said toilet and it did misfire due to my non compliance to posted warnings, the result for me or to me could be serious injury or possible death.
    I have only forgotten to open the valve once when flushing the tank. I was told of my mistake while washing the roof of the coach. I flew down the ladder in fear of becoming a player in a live scene from the movie RV.
    This brings me to my next to last warning. There is a sign attached to the roof of my coach under the ladder handles that reads, and I paraphrase “Maximum weight capacity 150 lbs when vehicle is moving.”
    Every time I read this sign the thought pops into my head that it must not be safe for me to hang on to this ladder, waving to passing cars, as the coach is flying down the road because I weigh 175 pounds!
    Of course we all know that lots of things are tied to roof ladders. Step ladders, bicycles, kayaks, mother in laws. Don’t exceed the 175 pounds. It isn’t printed on the label but if your kayak and your bicycle and your ladder flew off the back of the coach, I suspect it could lead to…forget it. Not going to say it … I am starting to scare myself.
    The last sign posted on the side of my coach is on the basement door located beneath the furnace. It reads “Caution…Do not allow door to remain open when furnace is running.”
    What does that mean? Don’t allow the door to remain open? I think it should read: “don’t allow the door to remain all the way open.” Locking it half way open is okay. All the way would allow the running furnace to blister the paint right off the door. That is no good. Unfortunately this half open door belongs to the basement compartment that I am in and out of the most, and so it is the door that I bang my head on the most. This is one time where complying with instructions leads to personal injury. I hope that I never hit my head so hard that it leads to possible death.
    We have now learned that signs posted inside and outside of our coach are there to make our Motorhome a safer place. That will be the result as long as we read them, pay attention, and comply with what these warnings tell us.
    I wish I had been able to take the Motorhome approach to raising my kids. I could have posted warnings all around their room.
    “Do your homework! Failure to comply can lead to failure at school which can lead to a lifetime of pain!”
    When my girls became teens and started noticing boys I could have stuck the following up on their wall:
    “Caution! A moment’s physical pleasure can lead to a lifetime of pain!”
    Along with that one how about:
    “Listen to your Mom and Dad so that your days will be good on this earth!
    Failure to comply can lead to a lifetime of pain!”
    And the last sign:
    "Warning! Don't insist on growing up so fast! Enjoy your childhood while you have one!
    Adulthood can lead to personal injury and will lead to eventual death!"
    You see I knew what the future could bring. As my kids grew older I could see the signs of trouble and would have done anything to prevent injury, physically, emotionally or any other kind, if possible.
    I think that the MotorHome approach to life is not a bad idea but only as long as you don't peel those signs off the wall and then charge out the door before the steps are deployed.
    Ouch!
    Derrick
    "Gramps".
  22. -Gramps-

    "Cruising" Day Nine

    By -Gramps-,

    Part IX Saturday: Room Service and Farewell
    We received a call at eight in the morning. A cheerful voice was at the other end asking us if we were ready for our breakfast. I sleepily replied in the affirmative. I jumped up, robed up and hit the head. While in there I heard a knock at our cabin door. Diane let the room service waiter in. I heard the rattle of cups and plates. Not knowing exactly where the waiter was located, I did not open the bathroom door for fear that I would knock him into the closet. Diane asked if she needed to sign anything, he said no; enjoy your breakfast and then the cabin door shut. I stepped out. There was a lot of food sitting on the small coffee table. I moved as much of it out to the even smaller balcony table, leaving the tray of herb tea and decaf balanced on the bed. It was Diane’s idea to order room service the night before and I have to admit it was a good one. It was great to just sit there and soak up the salt air and listen to the ocean pass by. Breakfast was eggs, fruit, and Danish and a lot of each. I bit into a Danish…..Prune! I hate Prunes. On every cruise for the last fifteen years I have avoided prunes. Diane said eat it, you won’t die. It was not bad actually. We took our time. We wanted our last day at sea to be a lazy one. The biggest project of the day would be to repack. I was not looking forward to that at all.
    After breakfast we put on our swim gear, Diane covered up with a pair of shorts as usual and we tried to do our next usual thing; head down to deck 4 for our fast walk. We picked up some hand weights in the spa and went to deck 4, but both ends were closed for cleaning. We had no other choice but to try the jogging track on deck 12. At first I did not like it. It was hard to keep up any kind of pace because it is also the walk way between the deck chairs, plus it is too short. I decided to expand our course by looping through Adventure Ocean, the kids’ area aft, and picking the track up on the other side. For about forty five minutes we quickly walked around the sun worshippers including the Norwegian windmill.
    After our walk we went back down to 1234 to pick up books, towels and such, climbed back up the stairs, past the blowers still drying out the carpet, and picked out two chairs in the Solarium. Choosing our chairs is not that easy, not now, nor was it earlier in the week. We want to sit together of course, but I need a chair in the shade and Diane wants one in the sun. This takes some effort; accomplishing this task takes a lot out of me and makes me hungry. This morning we were fifty percent successful, in Diane’s opinion anyway. We had to take two chairs in the shade in front of the open glass wind screen facing the sea. Mine was next to a planter that made a good spot to put my sunglasses and book. I was finishing Cold Mountain.
    Inman walked through mountain country and kept to the trails and saw few people. He measured out distance in portions of a day. A full day’s walk. Half a day. Less than half a day. Anything shorter than that was just a little piece down the road. Miles and hours became concepts he disdained since he had not the means to measure either.
    He was held back in his travels after he came upon a little-sized woman sitting humped up on a fence rail crying for her dead girl. The woman’s bonnet hood shaded her face so all Inman could see was black but the tip of her nose. When she turned her face up to Inman, though, the tears dropping from her jawbone sparkled in the morning light. She held her mouth slitted open in anguish so that in Inman’s mind it resembled the sputcheon to a sword scabbard. The sun was not up good yet and she was about to have to bury her child wound up in an old quilt, for she had no idea of how to make a box.
    Cold Mountain is about a Confederate soldier, a good one, also a good man, who after recovering from a serious wound and in the hospital, deserts and decides to walk three hundred miles home to his one true love. It is a haunting book with the ability to make a grown man cry. Diane, when she was awake, continued to read her Nora Roberts book.
    We did not move from our chairs until lunch. We left our stuff on our chairs, grabbed a slow bite in the Windjammer, returned and took up right where we left off. The only interruption was some too loud announcements. We slept, we dipped in the pool, we read and then we slept some more. At three we called it a good day at the pool and headed back to our cabin for showers and packing, not necessarily in that order.
    Diane and I had grown much closer during this trip. The cruise was a healing balm for both of us, but the time to leave was now very close; pulling the bags out from under the bed was a strong indication of just how close the end really was. I started packing my stuff first. I really did not care how straight my shirts, including the ones I had not worn, went back in my bag. But Diane who had spent a lot of time ironing them did. This was the only time we had words with each other that were anything less than kind. I repacked my shirts the way she wanted me too.
    We showered and packed in shifts, leaving out our dinner clothes. Around five we started to get dressed. Diane put on a short form fitting sleeveless B Moss pink dress with matching shoes. I put on a three button black Liz Claiborne suit, wine colored shirt, tie and pocket square combo that had stripes of color that matched Diane’s dress. I laced up my black Bostonians and we were on our way.
    Dinner was bittersweet, it was after all our last, and we enjoyed each other’s company but we knew we were saying goodbye and would in all probability not see or hear from each other again. That is just the way it is. So a lot of flashes flashed during dinner. Wanich would be missed; he took our orders for wine, Malligahanney Soup, salad and prime rib. We chatted about the many highs and few lows of our collective cruises, the avoidance of packing and scheduled flights home. The evening passed quickly. Dessert arrived; hugs were made, last pictures taken, envelopes handed to the very deserving persons who received them with thanks. And then it was time to leave, Wanich needed table 518 for the second round of goodbyes.
    We made our last roam around the ship. I looked at the watch that I had forgotten to buy, but the shop was busy and I was not in the mood to buy it anyway. We finally made our way to the theatre for the Farwell Show. The farewell video was playing. The dancers were good, Jeffrey was funny as always, and the crowd was happy but subdued. When the staff made their farewell entrance, everyone gave loud applause to show our appreciation for a good week. Jason Chase the Comedian followed the acrobatics of Duo Claudio. It took a little time for him to warm up the audience, but he did fine. The show ended, we received some “how to leave the ship” information from Jeffrey and that was that.
    We went to the photo area and bought the pictures we wanted and choose to opt out on purchasing the video. We then went to Cleopatra’s Lounge to hear “Sister Sez” the very good house band and dance for the last time. Before midnight we went back to our cabin, where a crocodile and the last little Compass newletter where on our bed. I rolled our luggage out into the hall and we turned out the lights. I sat up and watched The Count of Monte Cristo and missed the middle of it because I fell asleep. I saw the very end and turned off the television. I opened the balcony door so that I could listen to the ocean just a bit longer.
    I was beginning to feel melancholy and a bit lost. I was grateful that we were not flying home the next day but shuttling to the airport, picking up a rental car and driving to Melbourne. We would be easing ourselves back into the real world, a place that I did not want to return to and in some ways, as I am writing this, I am still not there. I am still on the Voyager, with my beautiful wife and you.
    Derrick
  23. -Gramps-

    "Cruising" Day Ten

    By -Gramps-,

    Part X Sunday Morning :We have to get off the ship.
    Diane and I woke at false dawn. Voyager was already docked. In just a few minutes the sunrise could be seen in the glass of the buildings outside our balcony. I took a couple of pictures. We dressed without saying much to each other. We did not have to. Diane put on a red short sleeve lace up shirt and white Capri pants. I think I put on one of my new Liz Claiborne for men tees, brown and off white linen shorts. We packed our dress clothes from the evening before in our carryons as well as all our personal care stuff. I grabbed a bottle of wine that Wanich sent to our cabin the night before and padded it with some Royal Caribbean shopping bags and stowed it away in my bag. I did an idiot check (make sure you don’t forget anything or you will feel like an idiot). We took a last look at Diane’s beautiful roses, still blooming. They were the best looking roses that I have ever bought. I picked up the Voyager Art Catalog and zipped it into my bag. We took a last look at our animal collection; made sure the balcony was locked, grabbed our bags and then just stood there. After a moment or two I said “We have to go Diane, on the count of four we roll... 1.2.3.4”.
    Out the door she went, I followed.
    We hoped to see Collin, but he was not to be seen and I really did not want to disturb him. I figured he was having a busy morning. We made it a point to leave him a very good tip and Diane wrote a very personal thank you on the envelope. He was the best.
    We passed the Egyptian art in its case for the last time and took the elevator up to the Windjammer. We assembled our normal breakfast after receiving a cheerful good morning from the plate person. How they can stay so cheerful all the time is quite a skill. We sat with another couple and talked about building a house and a little bit about cruising. I forget where they were from. We met a lot of nice people on this cruise, if only for a brief time.
    We ran into Dondi and Joe from our catamaran trip at Cozumel the night before. They went with Diane and me on our last tour of the ship. I wanted to see the Sky Chapel and the “Who’s Next?” men’s room. That is a very large bathroom on deck 11 next to the florist with water cascading down a marble wall that you, well if you know the Who’s album cover you should understand. It was different. Dondi and Diane snuck in to see it.
    We finished breakfast and decided to find a chair out on deck 4 (seemed logical to me) until our blue tags were called. We expected to be late since we were not flying out that day. We turned in our customer satisfaction forms on the way down. Deck 4 had quite a few people sitting around. We rolled our bags next to an empty chair and in just a minute our Tennessee friends came by with a couple of Labadee walking sticks. They were quite ornate but I wondered how difficult it would be to take them on the plane. They also had blue tags. We chatted awhile about South Beach which we could see in the distance and then I asked Diane if she wanted to play a game of shuffle board. She agreed but after awhile it was obvious her head was not into it. We played only one or two games. We heard a few colors being called, but it seemed to be a long time in between. It was over an hour before we heard “Blue, would all passengers holding Blue tags please proceed to customs and baggage claim” We said good bye to our tablemates. They left but we were in no hurry. We sat and looked at the South Beach skyline for about another half hour and Diane announced she needed to find the ladies room. We rolled our way back into the ship, she made her stop, a RCCL staffer moved a yellow nylon ribbon out of the way of the exit and we were off the ship.
    The line through customs was not too bad. We found out that because it was Columbus Day they were short handed. It’s always something. It took about twenty minutes to get through the line, show our proper IDs, head down the escalator (ironically island music playing) make a right turn and roll our way to baggage carousel D. All the baggage areas were quite busy. We needed three bags to come off, hopefully all in one piece. Diane had one floral bag, easy to distinguish and I had two black Kenneth Cole bags. They looked like every other black bag. Diane’s bag and my largest one came around together and I pulled them off to the floor. I looked for my second bag but it refused to show. I walked around thinking that I might have missed it. A porter walked over with his handcart and asked if he could help. Diane said that we had not found all our bags yet. He suggested that I try the other carousels; they sometimes come down the wrong one. I did, but to no avail. I was just about to announce that I was sure it was lost and find a RCCL baggage agent when Diane spotted the bag. Relieved, I lifted it to the floor. Right then I decided that when we got home, one of the first things I was going to do was buy some gigantic bright neon tags for my bags. A large friendly porter with a full gray beard (the same porter who refused to accept Liras as his tip) asked to take our bags. I had already strapped my three together and Diane’s two and we were ready to roll. He said Man, don’t hurt your back now. I told him I could handle it just fine. I pulled the first bag onto its wheels and the other two followed. It is quite a sight actually. We had one more customs desk to go through, declared all our expensive vitamins which surprised him and we went out the exit to the bus terminal. I looked back at the ship, shrugged it off and rolled toward our bus. Diane was right behind me. We dropped off our luggage climbed aboard the bus and we were told by the driver it would be about fifteen minutes before we would leave. Diane and I both opened our books.
    Twenty minutes later, after some more passengers boarded we were off to the airport. Up the terminal ramp, our departure view of the Voyager running in reverse. Soon the ship and our trip were behind us. The bus arrived at Miami airport departures terminal. We sat while the entire luggage was being unloaded. I noticed that Quinn and Mary were on board the bus. Diane and I said hello and then goodbye, they looked tense, I guess they were squeaking it to their flight. We got off the bus and hitched up the bag train again. I saw an Avis bus and tried to flag it down, but it kept right on going. A security officer walked up and told us since 911 the buses will not pick up at departures only arrivals one floor down. He escorted us to a large elevator, pushed the button, we loaded up and headed down. Once the elevator opened we exited outside and saw our bus. I waved at it, it stopped, and we loaded on board. The bus drove us to the Avis rental center and dropped us off right in front of the counters. Diane tipped the driver and watched the luggage while I went in a rented our car. I had a reservation for something mid size like an Alero, but the agent saw our bags through the window and said we needed something larger, only six dollars more per day. Sounded good to me. I signed for a Buick Century (a grandpa car according to my son). She gave me directions to Melbourne and a good map and I went to get the car. It was in spot 188, I pulled it over by Diane and we loaded up. I could not get all the bags into the trunk; two went in the back seat. We got in the car, I familiarized myself with the location of the important controls for the radio, air (it had a temperature control for each seat) lights, wipers and such. Then we pulled up to the exit booth, handed the agent our contract, she scanned it and we were on the road.
    We had a two hour drive up I-90 to Melbourne. Diane called Jeri on her cell to let her know we were on our way. Soon we were passing through Fort Lauderdale, past the airport where our cruise began almost.
    Sometime later in some small town, we stopped at Burger King for lunch. It was not the Windjammer. By four that afternoon we pulled into Jeri’s driveway. The cruise was now officially over. We would spend two days with Jeri. We were staying at the Courtyard Marriott located close to her house. The next morning we planned to visit Downtown Disney and we would be flying out of Orlando at eight thirty Tuesday night. Right now though, I was tired, needed some dinner and I knew that there would be a ball game on later. As I said before one of the drawbacks to cruising in the fall is missing the playoffs. Being with Jeri and Mark, and watching the Angels play the Twins would help me a little to readjust to the real world.
    I hoped it would anyway.
    Derrick
  24. -Gramps-
    PatrickH's blog entry From the beginning ... got me thinking.
    When did it start? When did the idea of being part of the motorhoming community first start to grow inside our brains? When did the idea first hit any of us, including Kay Toolson or John Crean, who founded Fleetwood, or Warren Buffet, the owner of Forrest River?
    All of us have our own story about how we ended up owning a motorhome company or, like most of us, just owning a motorhome.
    This is my story.
    Just about eight years ago my wife Diane, slipped on her padded wrist weights and headed out our front door to take her early afternoon walk through our neighborhood. She was not alone. Nickolas, our cocker spaniel, went right along beside her. It was a beautiful sunshiny April fool’s day with a bright blue sky and big fluffy clouds floating overhead.
    Diane took her journey of about two miles, which followed the main drive along the Western Branch of the Elizabeth River, past Tommy Newsom’s house, around the storm water lake and then the final road home, past Green Acres Presbyterian church, the playground and our front door.
    She never made it down the final road home.
    As she was passing a house owned by our neighbors, Radar, their pit bull mix dog, jumped the five foot chain-link fence and then raced to the street and grabbed Nickolas by the neck. Our dog let out a sound that Diane later described as a scream. Diane yelled at Radar with all the authority she could put behind it to let go and go home. The dog turned Nickolas loose and took off down the street.
    Nickolas lay on the ground and started to whine. Diane leaned down next to him to look for wounds. She was sure that there had to be a gash in his neck somewhere. There was not, but while she was looking, Radar, without a sound, hit her from behind. He grabbed her by the ankle, nipping through her Achilles tendon, and tried to drag her down the street. Diane, yelling again, turned and rapped him on the nose. He let go, and then as she was attempting to get to her feet, Radar clamped down hard on her left wrist, sinking his teeth into the exercise weight. Diane hit him again. The dog let go and then clamped down on her bare forearm.
    This time Diane screamed in pain and for help. She realized that this dog intended to kill her.
    A couple of blocks down the road, one of our neighbors heard her. He heard her screams for help over the sound of his lawnmower. He looked down the street, saw the dog and my wife, grabbed a brick out of his flowerbed and took off running. As he got close he yelled at the dog and waved the brick. Once more Radar let go of his intended victim and took off.
    Diane lay on the road with her blood literally flowing down the gutter.
    Across the street two more neighbors heard the noise, saw the dog take off and ran over. One was a nurse and the other was her daughter. The nurse borrowed Diane’s rescuer's shirt and tied it around Diane’s arm to stop the flow of blood while the daughter dialed 911.
    In less than ten minutes the rescue squad was on the scene. The paramedics refused to get out of the vehicle. They would not attend to my wife as long as the dog was on the loose.
    It took a lot of encouragement from our four neighbors, along with two boys who showed up, to convince the paramedics to get out and do what they needed to do. The boys, who happened to be riding by on their bicycles, said that each one would ride down to the end of the street and keep an eye out for the dog.
    Thanks to those brave boys and the actions of our neighbors, the paramedics were able to treat Diane and deliver her to the emergency room of the nearby hospital. The nurse and her daughter, after getting the key from Diane, delivered Nickolas back to our house. The poor dog was a nervous wreck.
    There were a lot of waiting patients at the hospital. Because Diane was mangled but not dying, they stuck her in a wheelchair and said she needed to wait. She rolled over to a free-for-patient’s payphone and called my voice mail/pager number.
    When I heard my beeper, I was standing in a dark phone closet located in a church. I was holding a flash light with my teeth staring at lots of wires on the wall. I reached down and unclipped my pager, read the number. I used my test set to call the paging service and listened to the message.
    I heard this soft, shaky voice.
    “Derrick, I was out walking Nickolas and got attacked by a dog. I am in the emergency room at Maryview. I thought you would want to know. “
    That was it. I had no idea how bad this was or wasn’t, but it did scare me to death. I charged out of the church and ran to my truck and drove a bit like a madman to the hospital, which was about nine miles away.
    When I arrived Diane was back in one of the trauma rooms. She was hooked up to an IV, her pants leg had been cut off at the knee and there were some bloody sneakers and wrist weights lying on a chair.
    We had some paper work to take care of. Pictures were taken and then they stitched her up, pumped her full of antibiotics and painkillers, bandaged her wounds. We filled out more paper work and received a set of crutches, followed by a trip in the wheelchair to my truck and home we went.
    Before I left the hospital the doctor talked with me and said that a main artery in her forearm (I don’t know which one) was missed by the dog by only a couple of millimeters.
    He also told me that the terrycloth-covered foam wrist weight bands she had on had saved her life. If the dog had gnawed her wrist the way he chewed up the band, that would have been it … chances are she would have bled out.
    Diane smiled at me the whole way home. It looked like a drunken smile to me. It did keep me calm and I can tell you I was pretty shook up.
    I thought about how close I had come to losing her. It wasn’t the first time she had been in the hospital for an emergency, but it was definitely the worst time. It made me start to reevaluate my position in life and what I wanted from it. I gave a lot of thought to what I wanted for me and for Diane.
    A few days later, I asked her what she wanted me to do for her.
    “What do you mean?’
    “Well, you were almost killed, don’t shake your head, we both know that could have happened. We have been working hard for a long time, you just got over back problems before this happened, we are not getting any younger and time is running out to try to make our dreams come true. So I think we should pick one and work on it ... so, which one? Trip to Greece? Bigger house? Want do you want?”
    Diane looked at me and said: "I want to look at campers. I want to spend more time camping in the mountains and I don’t want to sleep on the hard ground anymore.”
    I looked at her and said okay.
    I didn’t really mean it, because I didn’t think she meant it, either.
    Boy, was I wrong.
    Gramps
    http://community.fmca.com/blog/62/entry-536-how-did-it-start-part-two/
  25. -Gramps-

    "Cruising" Day One

    By -Gramps-,

    Don't let the amount of time that has elapsed since my last blog entry fool you, I am still alive. There has been a lot of things happening lately, but not many of those things has much to do with motorcoaching. Diane and I have been to the two of our FMCA chapter campouts (more about that later) and I spent most of today working on our coach. I am trying to repair the wet bay heater before I need it again.
    In the next couple of days I will post an up to date entry but in the meantime I have something from my old archives you might find interesting. I used to blog (before it was called that) for Cruise Critic dot com. I kept and posted a daily account of our very last cruise. One of those days I posted here sometime ago. Now that FMCA is offering member cruises, maybe you will find my account of our last cruise fun to read. If not..too bad, at least the words, and there are lots of them, will take up some space.
    It was originally a ten day, ten part posting and it received a lot of responses, from all around the world as a matter of fact. Here is Day One:
    Voyager of the Seas 10-06-2002 to 10-13-2002
    Part I Stressing, Packing, Pre-Cruising
    This cruise almost did not happen. I booked it on the first day back from our 29th anniversary cruise on the Explorer of the Seas 10-06-2001. On 911, I thought that cruise might not happen, but it did, and in spite of travel tribulations it was great. Diane and I fell in love with the Eagle class ship and had to go back for our 30th wedding anniversary. I booked an ocean view with a Crown and Anchor coupon and received a free upgrade to a stateroom with a balcony. We were told that we would be in cabin 1234. I liked that number, easy to remember, and its location, third cabin forward on the Port side, deck 10. I booked it and did not give it another thought for five months. There were too many other things to think about. A ship load of stress was sailing right at us.
    A few days after returning from the Explorer cruise our daughter Jeri informed us that she wanted to move her February wedding to December. Having two months to plan a wedding was bad enough, but to have it during the Christmas season was a tough order to fill. Hotels have parties galore during that time and finding an empty meeting room large enough to hold a wedding was not going to be easy. Not to mention that I was now going to be short almost four months income to help pay for the darn thing. We managed to pull it off. Jeri and her husband had a wonderful wedding, very intimate and very beautiful, thanks to her mother. But boy was it stressful.
    Next came Christmas and all the decisions that come with that holiday. We have family scattered all over the place and they all want us to spend time with them. We ended up with my parents and they overbooked so we had to sleep in a two story shed in their backyard that was full of ladybugs, millions of them. We had an interesting night to say the least. We slept on an old couch with a pull out single bed, both of us in the same bed, while the lucky ladybugs slept in the double bed with the nice mattress upstairs. Both Diane and I went home with prophetic back aches.
    I am self employed, in the wacky telecommunications business. At the end of December I sold the largest system I have ever sold in eleven years. I sold it to a very high profile company with a lot of important partners; one of the partners makes beer and owns theme parks. It took me three months to install it and tweak it to my satisfaction. I just finished it when our oldest daughter Christine and her two year old son decided that they needed to move back into her old bedroom if you know what I mean.
    So, I barely had time to catch my breath from three months of hard work when I found myself with two more mouths to feed and a new job. I was now Derrick the marriage counselor. This was a job that I did not want and did my best to refuse. My wife had to put up with all of us. Stress moved in like a child comes home. From March to June things were very tough.
    In May we remodeled our main bathroom. We gutted it and started over. It was a lot of work but we had no choice, the room was falling apart. We and our contractor finished it in early June. Because of scheduling problems and supply problems and labor problems and children problems I missed my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary celebration. I hate to say it but I didn’t care. I was too tired to care.
    In late June things got tougher. Diane woke up one morning and had such terrific backside and leg pain that she could not get out of bed. Christine managed to get her to the emergency room. She had a pinched nerve. Duh! Take Tylenol number 3 and Motrin 800, that will fix it, they said. It didn’t. She suffered in silence for two or three weeks until I said it was time to visit a chiropractor. We did, and he informed us that she was in pretty bad shape. She could barely walk, and would require three visits a week for the next few months. It was then that I remembered our cruise. The good doctor said that he would her would have her ship shape and ready to go, on time. I said thank you and wrote him a large check. (Large enough for a cruise)
    In August Christine moved into her own apartment. Business had been slow for the past two months, but that was a blessing in disguise considering the fact that I had to spend quite a bit of time grocery shopping and looking after the things that Diane normally did. When you have a seventeen year old boy in the house, you have to buy a lot of food. Often. I wanted to cancel the cruise, Diane said no. In mid August I made the final payment on the cruise and travel insurance. Diane followed her doctor’s advice to the letter; I went back to work and hoped that October first would arrive quietly and we would have some peace until then. That was not to be.
    In mid September we found out that Diane’s mother had Alzheimer’s disease. This of course caused another family crisis and led to court orders and guardian hearings and wonderful stuff like that. I wanted to cancel the cruise. Diane said no. Two weeks before departure date, Diane and her brother placed her mother in an assisted living facility.
    The day before departure I went with Diane to the Chiropractor’s office. He wanted to show me some new ways to use my elbow so that I could administer some relief to Diane in case she needed it while we were gone. The good doctor ended up putting me on the table after I told him that I was having back pain. Christine’s car had broke down two days before causing her to borrow Diane’s car and the stress was torque-ing me out of shape.
    We barley had time to do all the pre cruise dry cleaning, shopping and things like that, but God help us, we pulled it off.
    On Friday, October the fourth, at 5:30 in the morning, Christine, Diane and I left for the Norfolk airport. We had five bags (three of them mine), plus a camera bag, a makeup bag, not mine, and a purse, also not mine. I tend to pack too much. This trip was no exception. Diane and I like to dress up every night on the cruise. I was hoping that Southwest would not hit us with overweight charges. Diane told me not to pack my cedar shoe trees (four pairs), just stuff your shoes with a pair of socks or tissue paper. I thought that was a good idea and then did not follow her advice. Those trees added six pounds. I packed a tux (for two nights), a black suit, a grey suit, a blue suit, and a grey plaid suit. I wore them all. I packed two too many shirts and ties because I was too tired to make up my mind the night before. I could not sleep at all and found myself on the Cruise Critic boards writing another installment to our first cruise memoir.
    About ten minutes out Diane realized that she had forgotten to put her rings on after pouring finger nail polish remover from a large bottle into a travel size bottle. She said she didn’t like the idea of going on an anniversary cruise without her wedding ring. I informed her that there would be no cruise if we returned for her rings. Christine said here take mine, it doesn’t mean that much to me anyway. Diane borrowed Christine’s big stone and put it on. It was a bit large but it would have to do.
    We arrived at the airport and unloaded; because the line was very long we ignored curb service check in, strapped all our bags together and pulled the train into the station. There was no line at the Southwest counter. We checked in and took our checked bags to the explosive screening station. I was surprised to see that it was a member of our church working there. He saw me and told us to let him handle our bags. He wiped them down thoroughly and they passed and He said have a great cruise and off we went to our gate. For security reasons I don’t think I should mention any TSA officer’s name, plus I can’t remember it.
    We pulled our carryons to the top of the escalator and headed over to the coffee shop for a cup of high test and a bran muffin. While standing in line I noticed a young lady carrying a sleeping bag. She had just arrived from Diego Garcia, an island just below the equator south of India. In 1998 I made a trip there. We talked for awhile and she informed me the place was hopping, I knew that was a sure sign of war. The war in Afghanistan started on the last cruise maybe we would attack Iraq during this one.
    We drank our coffee and ate our muffins and headed for the security gate. We went though and I set off the alarm. The guard asked me if I was wearing Rockports and I said yes. He informed me that they have steel shanks in them and would need to be X-rayed. Okay. I took them off, he wanded me down, I put my shoes back on and we continued. Southwest has open seating. You board in groups A, B, C. We were in B. We were called and headed down the jet way and onto the plane. Half the passengers were kids under the age of six. At least it seemed that way. Everyone was headed to Disney World. We were the only ones going on to Fort Lauderdale. It was one noisy flight. Plus there was a little boy kicking the back of Diane’s seat all the way down and a boy in front of her bouncing her tray. After one good kick to Diane’s back, I was sure she was going to climb over the seat and slap the boy’s mother. (The mother was fast asleep) Fortunately I was able to restrain her. Needless to say we were both glad to land in Orlando.
    We sat around for awhile and I read my book “The Lovely Bones”. It’s the story of a girl who is brutally murdered and goes to Heaven and observes her family and her Father’s attempts to solve her murder. It is a very strange and at the same time wonderful book. Diane was reading Nora Roberts “Honest Illusions”.
    On the way to the gate Diane complained about her new Reeboks that I had bought her. One of our pre cruise rituals is to buy new sneaks. I bought hers for her this time and I was careful to get the right size, but somehow one shoe was way too large and tightening the lasses did not seem to help. There was nothing we could do about it at the moment.
    We finally boarded the plan for Fort Lauderdale and about forty minutes later found ourselves making a big wide turn to the left on our final approach. I noticed a lot of large homes on small lots next to what looked like swamps to me. I guess that must be waterfront property.
    We finally landed and made our way off the plane and down to baggage claim. We waited no time at all. My two bags were the first ones to come out together and Diane’s followed about a minute later. Two bags together how often does that happen? We strapped everything together and headed our baggage train out the door marked ground transportation and found the Tri-County Express counter. There we ordered a car for 45 dollars for up to five passengers. The driver looked at all our luggage and wanted to know where everybody else was. I told him it was just the two of us. He shook his head and started to load up. One suitcase had to ride up front with him. We informed him that we were headed for the Wyndham Hotel on Collins in Miami Beach. He knew exactly where to go. Our driver was from Spain and complained that Florida weather was too hot. He was in the country on a long visit with his grandmother who had recently lost her husband. He was looking forward to heading back to the Spanish Coast. On the way we passed another car stopped on the side on the road next to a police car. The taxi seemed to be bursting with luggage. I don’t know why it was stopped, maybe it was overloaded.
    We arrived at the Wyndham in about twenty minutes I guess. The valets immediately grabbed our bags and hauled them upstairs to the very beautiful lobby. I paid the driver with a c note, which he broke and then I tipped him.
    We entered the hotel, and liked it right away. We were supposed to be in the Eden Roc but remodeling forced RCC to move us to the Wyndham. I did not mind at all. I checked in and then Joe, the bellhop, loaded our bags on a cart and took us up to room 1222. Not 1234 but close. Joe has been a bell hop at the Wyndham for thirty years. He showed us the room, it was very pleasant with its sea blue and green checked bedspreads and blue and white vertical stripped curtains. He told us about the restaurants, and said he would be available when we left for our cruise on Sunday. He is a very nice man. I tipped him, shut the door, turned down the AC and headed for the window. On the left was the beach, beautiful blue water just beyond a huge twin towered condo. On the right was downtown Miami. I could see a Carnival ship, an NCL ship and a Royal Caribbean Ship. It was now about 12:00 noon. I started to relax. I looked at Diane; she moved over and put her arms around me. I said I think that I am hungry. She said, let’s see if the mattress is any good and then lunch. I said that sounds like a plan.
    Derrick
    Next
    Part II
    South Beach, Swatches, Kids, and Embarkation
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