Handsome

When I walk in the cafe at dawn, I wear a baseball cap because my hair is a fright untill washed and drinking coffe is my highest priority. However, the other day I dressed up for and attended an early meeting and arrived later at the cafe. While Jeff took my order, Martha who sometimes waits on me said, "Geoff...I didn't recognize you without the hat. You are quite handsome."
....Silence....
As Jeff handed me my order she said, "Well...I ah-ah didn't mean that you don't look alright in that hat."

Troubling 24 Hours

The last 24 hours have been difficult. Yesterday, when I arrived with Lois to swim at the Y, I couldn't find my pool shoes. I checked at lost and found; they didn't have my shoes. When we got home, I was missing a ski glove that I knew I had worn on the way into the Y in the extreme cold; I did find my pool shoes.

This morning, I decided to go back to the Y to see if my glove had turned up. I wore an old pair of ski gloves and stopped for coffee first--so I had three gloves when I entered the coffee shop. After leaving the coffee shop I walked into Y and found that I had only two gloves--an old one and my newer one. Jan at the desk brought out a glove from lost and found that matched the newer glove. I now had three gloves. She suggested that perhaps a string with mitten clips that went through my sleeves would be of help.

I stopped by the coffee place, held up my old glove, and Jeff the manager nodded and brought me a matching old glove. I now had four gloves.

When I got home, I put my gloves on the table and was startled to find that I only had three--I was missing an old glove. I went to the garage and found the older glove on the floor. Five hours have now gone by: I have two shoes, and four gloves. I should be embarrassed, but that is just part of being seventy...and I have had a little help from my friends...

The Glass is Half Full

While drinking coffee and reading the paper this morning, I overheard a next-booth cellphone conversation: "The sidestreets here are snowpacked, and the temperature out is twenty-five--and that really sucks."

I hadn't realized that we were in such dire straits. She failed to memtion that: we had received a few inches of much-needed snow; the sun was out; it will be back to fifty in two days; and all the snow will have melted. Guess that didn't match her message.

Thanksgiving Day Thanks

On Thanksgiving Day as I was walking with my granddaughter Genevieve in a Spokane park, I met a man with a lazy left eye who appeared of mid-eastern descent. He introduced himself as "Ali—like in Ali Baba." He said he was from Iraq, where in 2005, he was captured and tortured by an Iraqi militia group.

He told me, "They cut out my eye with a knife--that's why I have a glass eye. They released me after my family paid them a ransom. We escaped to Jordan where I got refugee status from the U.N. That's how I got to the U.S."

He said, "Yesterday, I became a U.S. citizen in a ceremony at the government building. I can now apply for a U.S. passport so I can visit my family in Jordan."

He told me how thankful he was on this Thanksgiving Day.

One Tough Dude

In the post office, I hand a filled-out form to the clerk.

He reviews the form and says, "Chance, is that how you sez it?"

"Yeah," I reply.

"Well, when I was in boot camp, I had a drill instructor: Sergeant Chance. He was one tough dude. Do you know any Chance like that?"

"I don't know of any Chances that were drill instructors. How long ago was that?"

"Oh, gosh, over thirty years ago. Don't think things in the military are as tough as that anymore."

"Yeah, nowadays the DI probably gives out M&M's for good behavior," I joke.

"They never let us have sweets in boot camp. When we got CARE boxes from home, we had to open them up in front of the DI and the troops. I remember when a friend opened up a box from his mother that was all cookies--chocolate chip. Sergeant Chance made him dump them on the ground and then Sergeant Chance stomped them into dust. I'll never forget that Sergeant Chance--one tough dude."

Uncle Dick

Natalie and Rebecca,

 

Here is a scanned copy of a copy that Aunt Elvera sent me a decade ago.

 

The first time we Chances met Richard Slabey was in August 1947, when Elvera brought him from Minneapolis to Great Falls by train to meet her older (by 13 years) sister's family. Two years later we drove to Minneapolis to attend their wedding; Mom and Judy were part of the wedding ceremonies.

 

This picture was taken by one of Hindel's Cabins where we stayed on Lake McDonald in Glacier Park. This picture triggers many great memories.

 

I am six and standing in front of Mom. Sister Judy is almost four and standing in front of Dad who is wearing his coat and tie in Glacier. And Elvera (Fautsch) and Dick are on the right.

 

In all of these years, Uncle Dick has been my hero, role model, confident and friend. I  treasure the times he made us laugh: not ordinary laughter; not laughter experienced anywhere else; but tears in your eyes laughter that hurt and brought us to our knees.

 

Sixty-five years have gone byand now he is gone; I am deeply deeply saddened.

 

Rest in peace dear Uncle.

 

Geoff

 

 

 

 

 

 

John Denver and the Children's Chorale

A photo my daughter posted today of her, her chorus and John Denver brings back memories of the concluding performance that the Children's Chorale did in 1988 in the large Aspen concert tent with John Denver at a convention of Windstar, an environmental group founded by Denver and Tom Crum. This was the second year that the chorale had been part of the convention. I had been heavily involved in the background doing sound reinforcement and production stuff for the chorale during the three-day conference. The production director of the Windstar event was Randy Kunkel who had a daughter in the chorale. Just before the closing act where the kids were to sing their beautifully choreographed  and upbeat "Ease on Down the Road," Denver decided that it was going to make the ending too long and told Randy that he was axing their act. "Randy and John argued, but with a final plea to "trust me, John," Randy got the act back in the program.

 

There was tension as co-founder Tom Crum joined us in the sound booth for the finale. Then as the kids began to sing, a most memorable and magic moment happened: an energized audience joined in singing with the kids and began dancing in the aisles, Tom Crum shouted and danced precariously on a tall narrow stool in the sound booth. The kids had a rousing finish and ran off into the cheering crowd. Peter Kader's jazz quintet then joined in with chorale director Bob Crowder on keyboard as they improvised on the "Ease on Down the Road" theme for a quarter of an hour. Everyone hugged, laughed and danced. Conversation was limited to shouting, and the Aspen tent was shaking. Unforgettable.