"Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty!" (AYLI)

Today was the opening day of the Huntington Lakes Senior Olympic Games; Altius, Citius, Fortius which means "Swifter, Higher, Stronger". However, in our case it should be "Slower, Lower, and Weaker." Consequently, the athletic event of the day was our entrance into the Canasta Tournament. We played five different couples three games each. The highest scores won the gold, silver, and bronze medals. We had a very high score, but finished fourth. But it's not whether you win or lose; it's whether your opponents cheated better than you, or if the refs took bribes to fix the cards.

We started this Herculean endeavor at 12 p.m against overwhelming odds. Most of the couples we played against weighed much more than we do. However, we certainly were not intimidated by this. I'm sure Las Vegas covered the spread. We ended up the contest at 3:30pm and since we had no lunch we went to Lox Around the Clock for what I suppose we'd have to call "Lupper". Rho had a shrimp salad sandwich with a cup of chicken soup. And I ordered perogies with a sesame bagel. The waitress said that the entree does not come with a bagel. I said that the menu stated that all entrees in that section said you get a bagel, lettuce, tomato, pickle, cucumber, potato salad and cole slaw. The manager came over and said that there was a mistake in the menu. I told him I shouldn't have to pay for their mistake. He finally agreed to give me the bagel, but the potato salad never showed up. Also, the perogies turned out to be potato pancakes. I told the manager that I was given potato pancakes, but he insisted they were perogies. If they were not potato pancakes (which they really were) then they were the worst perogies I ever ate. Well, nowadays that's the way of the world--topsy turvy.

"Altius, Citius, Fortius" (Swifter, Higher, Stronger) Olympic Slogan

I'm really proud that I have produced 168 blogs since August. It's not very easy to decide each day what you have to write about that might prove of interest to any reader. Of course family would have an interest; but what about non-family...friends? Or even strangers? 168 blogs might even comprise another book. But then who would ever buy it. It's just a journal and it's all history. But, nevertheless, even if no one reads it, it's good therapy for me to write, since whatever I used to do, comes difficult to do anymore. My neighbor, Billy, says he was depressed the other day, and I advised him to pick up his hammer and build something. Bill says he only feels "alive" when he is doing something with his hands. I can understand that; he's a "hands" person, and I'm a "verbal" person. Except when I'm at dinner with "hands" people. It seems that as soon as "hands" people go out to dinner, the hammer and nails go out the window and they become verbal people. I don't mind; I believe I'm a good listener and I cease to become verbal and sort of fade into the background. Especially if I have no interest in the subject and the "hands" people drone on and on.

Today I was honored to attend the City of Hope Donors' Luncheon I mentioned the other day. It was held at a posh country club in Boca and the buffet offered salmon, chicken salad, egg salad, and tuna salad along with fresh Romaine lettuce for a garden salad. But disappointingly so, I don't eat any of those things. Fortunately they did offer bagels, so I enjoyed some bagel and butter and a glass of water. I never thought that at a function where my wife is president, I'd have to eat bread and water. I asked the waiter who may or may not have a green card if I could get a diet coke. He said it would be $5.50. I told him that I can't imagine what a regular coke would cost; but I don't think he got the joke.

Tomorrow Rhoda and I are entered in the Senior Olympics as athletes in a Canasta tournament. I have been lifting decks of cards now for a couple of weeks in training for the event and got so good at it, I graduated to lazy susans. I got to the point where I could lift 104 cards in one hand and the lazy susan in the other. Rhoda has been my trainer and she has admonished and warned me on several occasions that I am not supposed to talk during the game. I will let you all know how it turns out, since we were not able to convince ESPN to televise it. Hoyle would have been the color commentator; but unfortunately--I believe he's dead.

"O! How full of briers is this working day world!" (AYLI)

My Geico auto policy expires on March 23 and when we traded Rhoda's Cavalier for a 2008 Malibu, I requested the changes in our coverage to include the new car. When they sent an email with the new premiums, the charges on my 1999 Malibu went up considerably. When I inquired as to why the increases I was told that it had to do with "age risk". The yearly premium would be $2400. I told them on the phone that I had been with Geico for 60 years and that fact did me no good whatsoever. Consequently I went online to AAA, AARP, and METLIFE. For the same coverage as Geico, MetLife's premioum for the year is $1400--a thousand dollars cheaper than Geico. So, as required by law when switching auto insurance companies, we brought both cars to a repair shop for inspections. It was a hassle, but what can you do? Rules are rules. Right? I believe it was Moses who went back up the mountain for a confirmation number for the Commandments and received an 11th--"Thou shalt not break a rule." And a 12th--"Thou shall honor thy insurance companies." And the Lord said to Moses, "Thou now hast a baker's dozen and for the extra two, there will be no charge." All this must be so, because after the inspection of the two cars, we were told there would be no charge. Funny how things work out.

Tomorrow afternoon somewhere in Boca, the City of Hope is having a "donors' luncheon". I'm not sure what that is, but I am going because my wife is the President, and the food is free (just like the inspections--we must be living right!). Then on Thursday, Rhoda and I are entered in a Canasta tournament which is part of the "Senior Olympics" they have here every spring. I suppose the winners will get gold medals. I really don't have any more room for medals...or trophies. It's the custom to award medals. I wish they'd go back to the old days when they would place a wreath on the winner's head. Friday is Rhoda's bowling day and daughter Robin is coming in Saturday for Sunday's dedication of the National Cemetery in Lake Worth. It's going to be a really busy March--it truly comes in like a lion. But beware the Ides. JC didn't and look what happened in 44BC(E).

Heroes, heroism, and the Golden Mean

The other day I was reminded about many things I have thought about for many years and on many occasions; that is the concept of "heroism". Webster defines heroism as "a heroic act especially in fullfilling a high purpose or attaining a noble end." A friend upon introducing me to a grandchild recently said that I was a "war hero". I took exception to that designation and reminded him that the true heroes were not the survivors, but those who fought and didn't come back. People tend to make heroes of "warriors" when actually heroism abounds in the lives of ordinary people like ourselves--people with the moral virtues and courage to accept and meet the challenges of life, people who aspire to greatness, people who change our lives and ultimately the lives of others. Hannibal didn't say that the mountain was "too high"; Washington didn't say Valley Forge was "too cold". They found themselves in conditions they didn't choose but acted upon them with good judgment and with courage.

In Aristotle's "Nichomachean Ethics" he defines the moral virtues--like courage--as being in a "mean state" between two vices--one of defect and one of excess. Consequently courage is a virtue, foolhardiness is a defect--a lack of sufficient fear, and cowardice a defect that is an excess of fear. So, by this philosophy, who is the hero? Certainly not the person who is fearless; it is the person who has an excess of fear and who overcomes it in order to change his own life and perhaps the life of another--or many others. My heroes are Joan d'Arc, Marie Curie, Louis Pasteur, the Jews at Masada, Julius Caesar (who went to the Senate in spite of the warnings), Lincoln, Einstein, the Wright Brothers, Rosa Parks, Amelia Earhart, Gandhi, Martin Luther King, and Drs. Salk and Sabin, and if you will allow me--Koufax, Jordan, Lennon & Ali.

A full life offers many opportunities for heroism. In New York on 9/11 the firefighters knew their job was dangerous, and for certain when they entered the towers to rescue people they were not without fear. The fire was their antagonist, but they pressed on with nobility and courage. They were heroes. No matter what your job or situation happens to be, life deals you a hand; if you don't leave the table, but stay the game, you too can be a hero. A soldier in battle, faces death at any moment; yet he knows what he must do. If he sees a grenade thrown at his buddy's feet and he throws his body on it--it's an automatic act; fear or no fear does not enter into his action. It is something that he must do. And those who were never in battle, find it impossible to understand. As far as my being a "war hero" I've done more heroic things in my life out of uniform rather than in it.

"$$$" (How's that for a short title, Mike?"

Perhaps someone out there is brilliant enough to tell me what all this "rebate" stuff is about? Am I going to get more money from this debacled government? How much? Will it cover the cost of Rhoda's new car or maybe even a tank of gas? I have already received the refund due me from my 2007 tax return. It didn't even cost me 41 cents since it was filed electronically. I got it a week after it was sent in...if you can believe that...and you can. But I have no clue as to what the rebate talk is all about. If Bush is giving me the money, I'm going to send it back.

Yesterday, we went to our bank's drive-in window and handed the teller two checks to be deposited amounting to $300. Rhoda also gave her 4 $100 bills and asked her to break them down into smaller currency. However, she didn't count the bills till later that evening and found that she only had $300. We are now waiting for a call from the bank to see if they were able to track that $100 down. Rho feels very "aggravated" by that since she always counts her money before leaving the bank. But I told her not to worry about it; if the bank fails to pony up the money, she should make herself out a $100 check from the $1200 we were going to pay the orthopedist who sent us a bill for services in 2006 but whose secretery told us to "forget about it." See yesterday's blog for the full story of that one.

"I have bought golden opinions from all sorts of people." (Macbeth)

OK. It's the day after; I'm on the road to four score and cinco. I was blessed with getting a slew of cards from friends and relations; and phone calls and e-cards. I was amazed at getting e-cards from a few former students from at least 30 years ago and I would like to share some with you:

Happy 84th, Doc, I enjoy your blog for no other reason than plain expression is so rare.
Bob Fox

I just got home from work --- all day thinking of you, but could not call.
Thought how lucky I am that I got to meet you a long time ago - and how many beautiful things (and people) you brought into my life!
I wish you a very good 84th year, with all my heart!
Happy Birthday!
Lots of love and hugs and kisses,
Magda Machado

You didn't think I'd forget your birthday, did you?
Birthdays, should be all about fond memories. Thinking of you on any day always brings me a flood of them, whether it's your birthday or just another day. So, Happy Birthday and Love for all your other days.
Betsy Hunter

God! I love these "kids"....But now I have to get my breakfast...it's 12 noon...be back soon...don't go away...+

OK. I'm back and while I was away having my nova and cream cheese on half a bagel, Jon (Rho's son) wrote a lovely and obviously sincere comment which I certainly appreciate. (Check it out by clicking on "Comments" at the very end of the blog.). Jon is one great "kid"; well, actually he's 40+. He spent 10 years in the Navy and since his discharge he's been living and working in Norfolk.

Rhoda has just returned from all her errands; her errands are ubiquitous and infinite, and after she finishes her lunch we are going to visit some scooters that I am being forced to buy if I want to get more than 50 yards from the building. Stick around for a report on that....

"By medicine, life may be prolonged..." (Cymbeline)

Well, now there is only an hour left before i become four score four and a day. My birthday was mostly uneventful, except for one extra-ordinary item; namely involving a bill I received from Dr. Rennella who used a new procedure for curing my back pain. I started with him in 2006 and went to him for treatments several times that year. Never got a bill until yesterday; $1200+! Rhoda, who keeps very strict medical records said that we got paid from Medicare and our Health Insurance and that we owed him that money. I called his office today to see if they would accept a credit card for payment instead of a check. When a girl answered I said I was the Red Baron (sic) and that I just got a bill for services rendered two years ago. She said, "OH MY! LET ME CHECK INTO THAT!" After a minute or so she came back and said "Red Baron, sir (sic), it's my mistake. Just forget about the bill." OK. So I got a $1200+ present for my birthday. I also got a fistful of snail mail birthday cards and a few e-cards...and several telephone messages. I even got cards from three grandkids...the fourth grandkid is in Navy boot camp, so she probably has no inkling about her grandfather's 84th. Well the dissed medical bill present was the only one I got. After opening the birthday cards in the mail and looking for gift cards to expensive department stores, or a free cruise, alas none was forthcoming...not even scratch-offs. I guess we're in a recession.

This evening we went to dinner with Mike and Helen H. at Longhorn's, a restaurant we enjoy. I had a Porterhouse steak with fries. While there, Mike and Rhoda admonished me for writing titles to my blog that were too long because they blocked out the first comment that anyone wrote. So now I have to make sure that my titles are only one or two lines. No one would want their comment blocked; that's for sure. It's their 30 seconds of fame. I also received an e-mail from Ray Maccagli, a good friend of mine who was the school psychologist--and yes he was crazy. He read my book and said he loved it! That was birthday present enough for me.