Birthday I

 

My birthday fell in the middle of the week a few days back. Unfortunately, I was the only one around. Well, me and the dog. The Mrs. was in Houston. My oldest was 45 minutes away in her apartment still adjusting to her new teaching gig. My youngest was 1,640 miles away at college. So it was just me. Which I don’t mind. I shun the limelight. However, I was plummeting head over heels into full-blown sickness.

That sickness is viral bronchitis. I’ve gotten it several times over the past decade; in fact, it’s pretty much the only way I get sick. However, and maybe this is due to the dry heat of Texas, I haven’t gotten it in over three years, whereas up in Jersey I was lucky if a winter went by without me catching it.

So I knew it – knew it! – back on Monday when I first felt a little … off. The wife had just left to drive the four hours to Houston, where she’d be inspecting her team and counters down there until Thursday night. I got a bite to eat and when I got home something didn’t feel right. A little dizzy, a little woozy, but nothing debilitating. I thought nothing further of it.

The next two days I went in to work. The first day I was fine. The second day I felt a little fatigued. When I got home, the coughing started. Not much, but just enough to set my warning bells off. There was a family FaceTime to wish my youngest a happy 18th birthday (she was born the day before my birthday). After hanging up, I decided to take a hot bath, because suddenly I was flat out exhausted.

I slept mostly through the night, though drained of energy. The coughing deepened and grew more frequent, and I became aware of phlegm or mucus in my chest that needed to come out. I had taken the day as PTO, so with nothing pressing I basically sat in a chair for three hours and watched YouTube videos. Finally I mustered strength to drive to CVS in the 95 degree heat. I bought Robitussin, four orange Vitamin Waters, and powdered vitamin C, and began aggressively self-medicating.  

My daughter planned on driving over to watch a movie with me, but I canceled. Didn’t want her to get sick and, well, just didn’t feel up to it. The next two days I struggled and while I didn’t get better, I didn’t get worse. But I had to get better for the birthday weekend, because we had things planned. So off to CareNow I went, in search of potent medication.

In the past azithromycin always cured me. But for some reason the doctors never want to give that to me. Yes, it’s an antibiotic and the bronchitis is viral, but from what I understand, the sickness begins as viral and transitions to a bacterial form. Usually after 7-10 days of infection. Well, I was on Day 6, and I wanted a z-pack.

They insisted on giving me a … ready for this … a Covid test. Now I know I didn’t have Covid. I was more than familiar with how a bronchial infection feels and what it does. But I guess the good folks at CareNow get reimbursed $$$ for every Covid test they administer, so they take every opportunity to administer a test. As expected, it came back negative. The doctor gave me a prescription for azithromycin, and off I went.

Before he left I asked for some off-the-cuff speculation: Could my pulmonary vein stenosis problems after my atrial fibrillation ablations fifteen years ago make me more susceptible to bronchial infections? He admitted that yes, what I went through could have “changed the architecture” of my pulmonary system where it cannot clean out infections as optimally as it should. Though he caveated this was not his specialty, and I assured him I wouldn’t hold him to his opinion.

Now, less than 24 hours later, I am a thousand times better, though still coughing. The new cough suppressant allowed me to sleep mostly though the night (I was getting 4.5 hours a night the previous three days). Plus the z-pack is knocking the infection out very quickly, as it always does. I’m ready to go back to work tomorrow. Well, physically that is.

Coming next: Parts II and III, where I detail what we did for my birthday, with pictures. It made a lousy birthday a million times better. In fact, it was probably the funnest birthday I’ve had down here in Texas.

 

College Road Trip II

 

Saturday morning of the 22nd was warm and sunny as we pulled away at 8:20. The wife said a tearful goodbye to Patch and I as we drove off … and had to return from a couple blocks away realizing we forgot one of her gifts. On our second departure we stopped at Sprouts for some snacks and sandwiches, and hit the highway.

 

We made good time that day. Patch, with her newly-minted drivers license, volunteered for two hours behind the wheel as we crossed into Arkansas. We drove over the Mississippi, watched the Corolla’s odometer flip from 129,999 to 130,000 with much aplomb, drove through the briefest of rainstorms (the only time on the College Road Trip it rained while we were in the car), and avoided a five-mile-long traffic jam (thanks Waze!). There was a little drama as we encountered what had to be a drunk driver – swerving, accelerating, braking, and even once riding right up to my bumper.

 

Patch found us a hotel via Priceline at a Comfort Suites in Lebanon, TN. We stopped for dinner at a connecting restaurant (I had a cheeseburger, she a Caesar’s salad). Next morning we raided the continental breakfast and checked out, back on the road by 10. Patch volunteered more time behind the wheel – this time, three hours! – as we meandered through the gorgeous Appalachians in Eastern Tennessee and Virginia. Dinner was short and sweet at a Wendy’s. (Our first choice was Chik-fil-A, but we couldn’t figure out why it was closed, until we realized it was a Sunday.) By mistake Patch booked a hotel 140 miles up the road, so we continued on through West Virginia, Virginia, Maryland, and up to New Columbia, Pennsylvania in the dark until we stopped at a Comfort Inn by 9:30 pm.

 

After another continental breakfast raid we were back on the road by 9:30. We had but four hours to reach my parent’s home in Pennsylvania’s northeast corner. What a joy and blessing it was to arrive at their house that afternoon. I rewarded myself with two Heineken NAs as Patch unboxed all the college dorm supplies we had shipped. My mom made us taco soup with large egg noodles for dinner. They went to bed by 8, and Patch and I stayed up a little bit longer, watched a Matt Pat video (why the eagles couldn’t just fly Frodo to Mount Doom) and a funny, over-the-top cartoonishly gory Cory Kenshin game.

 

Tuesday was a day of leisure. The weather was overcast and cool – at least by Texas standards. After egg-in-the-baskets we drove to a thrift shop where Patch bought a couple of black shirts and I picked up He Leadeth Me by Walter Ciszek and the St Joseph Baltimore Catechism. Back home Patch made 60 – sixty! – cookies, which she planned to hand out at school to her dormmates the next day. My parents took us out to dinner (and my mother bought me a T-shirt the restaurant sold). Then, taking advantage of the remaining daylight, we loaded my stepfather’s Camry with Patch’s supplies, and everything fit, though we accidently broke her five-foot long mirror. Another Cory video, then bedtime.

 

Wednesday was school drop off day. My mother joined us as we left around 8:30, again after packing a couple of sandwiches. I drove to Patch’s school 90 minutes away. We arrived by 10:15 and I was so impressed with the school’s handling of Move In Day. It seemed there was a student helper in school colors every fifty feet to answer questions. We were guided to the building where Patch picked up her ID and room keys, then were guided to her dorm itself. We drove up a short winding road and parked – and were immediately surrounded by a dozen students who helped unload the car completely and brought everything up to her room on the third floor. Turns out the building was elevator-free, so those college kids saved me a potential heart attack or two.

 

We spent the next three hours unpacking and setting up her room. Her roommate and her family were there, too (we met them a few weeks earlier at a school mixer in Texas). A quick trip to Target for a pillow and replacement mirror, and we ate our sandwiches. Patch gave us a quick tour of the campus (what she remembered from her visit the prior summer), which included the student center, the bookstore (I bought a pen, my mother a shot glass, and Patch a school pennant and key chain). We made a quick stop at the chapel, which was cool and peaceful.

 

Then – the Goodbye. Patch hugged her grammy and then me. I had a lump in my throat as we said our farewells. Our eyes met one last time for the briefest – and longest – of moments, then she disappeared inside her dorm. My mom and I then drove home.

 

Thursday was another day of relaxation for me before my solo return voyage. My mother brought me to three local bookstores she found, and I wound up purchasing The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo, Dr. No by Ian Fleming, and the Civil War nonfiction paperback Terrible Swift Sword by Bruce Catton. She also gifted me with eight of my stepfather’s golf shirts he no longer fits into. We ate at a locally-famous wing place for dinner, then I read and relaxed after we got back home.

 

I left Pennsylvania at 8:20 Friday morning and pretty much drove straight through until checking in to a Red River Inn at 6:15. I went out for dinner at – finally! – Chik-fil-A. I chatted with the Mrs. for a bit, showered, then read a hundred or so pages of my current read, Father Elijah by Michael D. O’Brien. I left again at 8:20 the next morning, stopped at a McD’s for dinner (and used a minimum-wage-worker replacement kiosk for the first time), then checked into a Super 8 at 6:30, and repeated my evening ritual. Left at 9:25 on Sunday and got home in Texas a little before 2 pm.

 

My 23-hour-drive home was quite an experience for me. I did not listen to any music or the audio book I downloaded. I kept the odometer between 75 and 80 and let anyone and everyone pass me whoever wanted, no questions asked. It was an extraordinary Zen drive for me. I thought a lot – a lot – about big, existential questions. I was floored by the utmost beauty of middle America – Virginia and Eastern Tennessee standing out to me, as well as sections of Pennsylvania, Arkansas, and West Virginia. The time and the miles flew by inexplicably fast, and when I got home, I was ready to go back on the road again.

 

All-in-all, the College Road Trip of 2026 had a total mileage of 3,135. Basically the distance between Augusta, Maine and San Diego, California. My old 2013 Toyota Corolla drove like a champ, the unspoken MVP of the trip, never giving us a scare, never failing us. My 18 hours driving out and 23 hours driving back was easily a record for me. Patch herself impressed me with five hours behind the wheel with 18-wheelers in front, back, and beside, with no issue at all despite still being a brand-new driver. It was a great tip, a great bonding experience. We talked about college, about life, nostalgically chatted about things past, and things that might happen in the future. She napped in the passenger seat and I looked at her, remembering all those pictures she drew as a child, all those soccer games and practices I watched her, and all those times we made each other laugh.

 

All-in-all, a great Road Trip.

 

College Road Trip I

  

Sooooo … it’s been a crazy long, crazy short, crazy summer of change down here. I’ll recap it in the next few days, but what I want to set down for the record now is the Great 2026 College Road Trip.

 

My youngest daughter, known as Patch in these electronic pages over the last eighteen years, has chosen to study fashion at a school in upstate New York. A big factor is her love of the Adirondacks, the cool Falls and snowy Winters, the comfort of memories of her grandparents at their house in northeastern Pennsylvania. She got accepted back in June and we faced the problem of getting her – and, more pressingly, all her stuff – to her dorm room half a country away.

 

Now, her school is just shy of 1,600 miles distant from our doorstep here in the northern Dallas suburbs. My logical, less-pain-the-better way of thinking, along with the Mrs, was

 

1)    1) Ship as much stuff as possible to Grammy’s in PA

2)    2) Fly the three of us into LaGuardia 

3)    3) Rent an SUV, pick up stuff at Grammy’s, and move her in to her dorm

4)    4) Drive back to NYC, return rental, fly home

 

And this is where it stood for six or seven weeks.

 

Then, Patch began scheming. Then she brought her mother into the scheming. And I should mention that things had changed a bit, since due to an immovable business product launch, my wife was not permitted to take off during the week we were expecting to move her in.

 

Sometime about a month ago, just after a delicious home cooked dinner she made for us, Patch presented me with a proposal printed out on a piece of paper. Two columns. Column One: Fly to College. Colum Two: Drive to College. Beneath each a listing of anticipated expenses in dollar form.

 

She wanted to drive to college, mainly because she wanted assurance she could bring everything she needed to her dorm. The Mrs. wanted me to drive her to college, mainly because she saw this as a once-in-a-lifetime bonding experience for me and my daughter. I hesitated. One, I don’t like seeming last-minute changes to schedule, and two, the car we’d have to take is my ancient 2013 Toyota Corolla get-me-to-work-and-back car I drive four times a week.

 

Sensing my hesitation, Patch sweetened the pot: “Dad, we have three remaining Thursday movie nights before I have to leave. I’m willing to watch the Lord of the Rings trilogy with you if you say yes.”

 

How could I respond other than in the affirmative??

 

So it was decided. Per her sheet it would cost twice as much to fly and rent as it would to drive and stay in motels. I factored some of that savings in and brought the Corolla into the local shop. $750 later I had two new tires, all of them rotated and balanced, oil changed, new air filter, new fuel filter, and the coolant system flushed. Right away we noticed an improvement in the car’s handling. My confidence this machine would make the trip increased from Never to Possibly.

 

Based on our trip from New Jersey to Texas during the Big Move back in 2021, we knew it would take about two and a half days of travel. Waze had it at around 23 hours. We planned on two full days of daytime driving (from 9 am to 6 pm), stopping only for gas and bathroom breaks. We’d take some sandwiches, drinks, and snacks from home to save money. In the late afternoon on each day Patch would get on Priceline and book a hotel / motel room an hour up the road. On the third day we’d arrive at my parents’ home in Pennsylvania in the early afternoon.

 

We’d have a day of rest in PA where Patch would unpack all her shipped items and we’d load them all into my stepfather’s roomier Camry. Wednesday my mother and I would drive her to school, empty the car, set up her dorm, walk around the campus, and say our goodbyes. Then I’d spend a relaxing Thursday with my folks and depart for the 1,600-mile ride home Friday morning, returning to my front doorstep early Sunday afternoon.

 

Patch could help me out on the drive, at least on the way up. She got her driver’s license in June (that’ll be in the future summer recap post) but had never done any highway driving. She volunteered for two hours a day, and that seemed reasonable to me.

 

It was settled. On Thursday, August 20, we watched the final entry of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Return of the King, chomping down some Jersey Mike’s sandwiches. We started this “movie night” tradition when her big sister went off to college four years ago, and over those four years watched 199 movies. Everything from Kill Bill to Airplane! to The Corpse Bride to Despicable Me. Those Thursday nights themselves were quite a bonding experience.

 

The next night, after work, we all met at a local Asian restaurant – me, the wife, Patch, and Little One, fresh from her second week of teaching fourth graders in a school 45 minutes away. We dined on ramen noodles and sushi and promised to celebrate again in four months, when Patch returns from the Great White North for Christmas break. Afterwards we all hit a Baskin Robbins then returned home, where the girls watched a Charmed while I read my current read.

 

Little One went home later, and we all turned in. Patch and I needed a good night’s sleep, for the next morning, Saturday the 22nd, would be the first day of the Great College Road Trip of 2026.

 

… to be continued …

June in the Rear View Mirror

 

 

Is it that time already? Has the first third of the summer triad glided from “The Present” into “The Past” so soon? Is it really six weeks since my oldest became a college graduate, my youngest a high school graduate, and me an aging man facing an empty nest around the corner?

 

Sadly, yes. I now can confirm, through experiential rigor, that time does indeed flow faster as one gets older.

 

Anyway, June was a pretty decent month. A bit of downside, yes, but overall a plus.

 

Let’s start inwards and work outwards, but saving meself for last.

 

Little One, the college graduate, has kept herself busy for the first half of summer in various nanny and babysitting gigs. I must admire her hustle. Why, last night alone she received a last minute request to babysit at a house 20 minutes away. After a brief phone interview she took the assignment and returned home four hours later $90 richer. She’ll be working full-time in less than a month preparing her fourth grade classroom for her first year of teaching math. Couldn’t be prouder.

 

Patch began the month with a triumph: she obtained her driver’s license. We’d been practicing since Labor Day, a total of 32-plus hours behind the wheel, going out over 60 times putting over 350 miles behind us. That was a Big Win. Since then she’s continued work at a boutique across town, though her hours have been cut during the summer. To compensate she’s selling more clothes through Depop and to various local thrift shops and is weighing the option to return, on a case-by-case basis, to the balloon company she worked for as a sophomore and junior. She leaves for college in upstate New York in six weeks. And wouldn’t you know it, time picks this moment, right now, to start accelerating.

 

The Mrs. is facing challenges through work, though nothing she hasn’t handled in the past. She’s weighing lateral moves to another company to give her options and leverage. She is the hustler who has given the hustle to her children. (Hustle, however, continues to elude me.) She has a bustling social life down here in Texas, and has made an amazing transformation of herself in other, non-blog ways.

 

Me, I’ve been plugging along at my accounting job, at my bible study, in my reading. Still at a loss for finding a passion that 1) I’m good at, 2) the world needs, and 3) someone will pay lots of money for. Perhaps that is my cross to bear. I make up for it in other ways. The girls let me know on Father’s Day. Heck, the made-from-scratch meal alone, Italian meat loaf, tells me I’m loved and valued more than I realize.

 

I’ve been making incredible progress with my guitar playing. I’ve been focusing on learning guitar solos, and have a nice arsenal. Among the more recents are the solos from “Lights” by Journey, “Baker Street” by Gerry Rafferty, and “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” by Queen. Why was this plateau not conquered in my late teens? Had it been, you wouldn’t be reading this; you’d be paying $250 a ticket to see me and my band’s latest Farewell / Reunion tour.

 

My reading has been hit and miss. Read and dropped what will most likely be my Worst Fiction book of the year, plus another one that was so damn boring. Since time is traveling by quite fast, I must be very judicious in how I spend my time. However, I read a neat little thriller and am working my way though a nice epic. Which is a nice way to manage stress and wash the day away.

 

I’ve been in a decent stretch of working out (i.e., lifting weights at the home gym) and walking 1.5 miles a day in the modest Texas heat (mid-90s). I know I’ve lost a few pounds, but I’m avoiding the scale, and I feel my torso start to tighten. A lot of mirrors at work, full-length mirrors near the bathroom especially, so I want to like what I see when I walk past. Not vanity, mind you, just health and well-being and a touch of confidence.

 

The bible study is fascinating to me – how Jesus is concealed and revealed in the Old Testament. It’s led by an older man who was in seminary for a time, back in the day when I was lugging my guitar and amp to various garages. I’ve learned a fair amount regarding Old Testament typology, and am thinking about a master post here. I know I haven’t been posting, but perhaps this might jump start me back into putting things up that interest me for future reference, and might interest you. Also among that is a weird but incredible pull to re-open my college calculus textbook. I think after losing my car keys and wallet a couple of times I want to – no, need to – sharpen those synapses. We’ll see about that.

 

Anyway, thus was June. Hopefully more, with more frequency, in the future.

Manic May

 

Oh, man, what a month! I’m only now beginning to recover from the dual graduation festivities of the past two weeks.

 

Let’s see. May began easily enough. At least for the Mrs. and me. The girls were under a bit of pressure, finishing up papers and projects and such, though it seems to me Patch took a lot of senior days off. Little One was fielding job interviews and secured that rarity of rarities for 2026 college graduates: a full-time position beginning at the end of July. The Mrs. had a week touring with higher-ups out in southern Texas and had to juggle booking restaurants. Me, I had to cope with the threat of the upcoming social engagements and the looming empty nest.

 

Let’s leave those thoughts apart for now.

 

Little One’s college graduation came first. She finished her degree in education cum laude and interviewed and accepted a position in a local grammar school teaching Fourth Grade math. Couldn’t be more proud of her. The risks she took and the successes she attained in the past four years I’ve never seen before. She’s a completely different woman – confident, assertive, decisive. And we chose her college wisely, because it didn’t transform her into a blue-haired bull-ringed lesbian who hates everything her parents believe in. In other words, she’s a normal kid who transitioned into a normal adult.

 

Her celebration started off on Friday the 15th with a mass with the Archbishop of Dallas a few towns over. The wife, Patch, and myself attended with my sister-in-law and Little One’s boyfriend. Little One herself was somewhere in the hundredsfold of graduates in the center pews. We only glimpsed her as she went up for communion. Afterwards we all went to a trendy local place for dinner (I had fish tacos, for anyone keeping score). It was loud and raucous and I had trouble hearing. But that, too, is another story.

 

Saturday was her graduation ceremony. We drove into the city where it was held and discovered said city was simultaneously holding a 5K, 10K, and a marathon. Traffic was brutal. Police would not let us in to the arena, so we had to find street parking a half-mile away. And I had to trudge with Patch and the Mrs. in my suit in 80+ degree weather. Ugh. But the ceremony, while lengthy, was quite touching. The keynote speaker was retired Archbishop of New York, Timothy Dolan. While not a fan, he gave a personable, rousing speech. And when I saw Little One go up on stage to receive her diploma, my eyes watered and I felt a huge lump in my throat.

 

After that we went to brunch at a French bistro. Everyone from the prior night attended, as well as her boyfriend’s mother, sister, and grandparents. There I had a burger that was quite delicious as only the French can make it. An interminable round of photos at the back of the bistro followed, then an hour’s reprieve at home, where I changed out of my grungy suit and got into shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. In the evening we visited Little One’s roommate and her family, who flew in from Vermont and rented an Airbnb in a Dallas suburb. I had another burger as we all ate around the pool until it got dark and a foraging opossum chased us all inside. We left around 10 pm and fell asleep exhausted once home.

 

Next Friday, the 22nd, was Patch’s high school graduation ceremony. I took a PTO day and lifted some weights and went for a walk, before helping to tidy up the house and hang up Happy Graduation decorations. Little One and her boyfriend came over in the afternoon and we all carpooled to the Dallas Cowboys practice facility where the ceremony was being held. We got pictures of Patch on the jumbotron as she accepted her diploma. I held it together pretty much, until the very end when all the graduates threw their caps into the air. Then it hit me. After sixteen years, I will no longer have a child in a nearby school. In August Patch will be going to college 1,500 miles away.

 

We went to a favorite local hangout to celebrate with drinks and dinner. In addition to the Hopper family we had Little One’s boyfriend, Little One’s roommate, and Patch’s best friend from high school in attendance. We ate, drank, and were merry. I had a spicy shrimp and pasta dish. Afterwards we drove to Handel’s for some top-notch ice cream cones, then returned home to relax and refresh for the long holiday weekend.

 

The wife gifted the girls with some hand-me-down sentimental jewelry, as well as supplementary baubles from Tiffany. I wrote a heartfelt paragraph in each of the goofy cards I got them. The wife wrote a lengthy epistle in one of their cards that could’ve began with, “Call me Ishmael.”

 

This past week Little One moved home from her college apartment, so now I have piles and piles of clothes, toiletries, and small pieces of furniture laying about. Oh, in addition to Sweet Potato, her seven-month old orange tabby cat. Charlie is stressing out adjusting to that. She’s planning on moving out into another apartment with her college roommate before she starts her teaching gig in seven short weeks.

 

Patch and I have been driving several times a week. Her driver’s test is scheduled for mid-June. Two days ago we started parallel parking. She got it down by the fourth attempt, but still needs a lot of practice to fine-tune it. So I have that drama to look forward to in three weeks.

 

All drama that I will miss as summer looms, and with it, the end of summer and the girls beginning their life journeys outside my home.

 

February Update

 

Ah, busy, so so busy, which I suppose is a good thing. The blog has been on my mind, every now and then, and I feel a little guilty when I neglect it. So, here’s what we’ve been up do in the north Dallas suburbs these past four weeks or so.

 

First off, we had our biannual ice storm on Saturday, January 24th. The town sent out notices via Facebook and X to help the residents prepare, and prepare we did. I had nightmare visions of the “fifteen days to slow the spread” Wu Flu panic when I attempted to pick up a Target order the day before – lines of fearful consumers, half-stocked shelves, every-man-for-himself elbowing and driving and hysteria. I wrapped each of my two outdoor faucets with two socks, a dishtowel, and plastic bag over that, bound up with thick rubber bands, to prevent pipe bursting. We charged up all our phones. After that, all we could do was wait.

 

It was kinda underwhelming. Only two or three inches blanketed my neighborhood, but it had rained the day before and temps were hovering in the frigid teens. Ice. So combine that with the street slush, the fact that there are no plows down here, nor is any salt stocked to make the streets safe, northern Dallas effectively shut down for the week. I myself didn’t drive for four days.

 

I was granted a week to work at home remotely. To my annoyance they made this decision on a day-by-day basis, so every afternoon at 5 I’d wait to see the message stating I didn’t have to risk my life and my car to drive in for a job I can do at home.

 

After a week, it all melted. And a week after that, we were back in the 70s. Last Sunday I did my 1.5 mile walk in shorts and a T-shirt.

 

My bible study group is flowing along well. Very interesting, the subject matter, and I’m learning a lot of stuff. Not esoteric, “ancient astronaut” crap, but ideas and themes that link the Apocalypse to the Mass and to the rest of the Bible. I’ve made a few acquaintances, too, which was a side goal to the whole thing.

 

The biggest new thing I’ve taken on is meditation. I’ve done it many times in the past, most recently this time last year, but never for as long and as dedicated as currently. Before last year I would meditate fairly regularly for three or four weeks, then stop, every coupla years. Last year I was able to keep the practice going for 31 sessions over 5 ½ weeks (11 of those sessions my wife joined me). Now, as of earlier tonight, I’ve had my 38th session. I’m up to 16 minutes a sitting and I sit twice a day. I did some research on some clinical studies of meditation, and while benefits can start as early as the first time one practices, most things I’ve read state that one must meditate consistently for eight weeks before real benefits manifest. More on this later.

 

Reading-wise, I’ve read Jonah, Mark, Daniel, and Sirach in my new bible translation, the one my study group recommends and uses. Next up is First Corinthians. I plan on reading through the entire bible over the next year, in no particular order. I’m also leisurely strolling though Charles Dicken’s The Pickwick Papers and enjoying it immensely. I also am tackling a subject that’s been on my periphery for years, more useless information to absorb – the English Civil War. I’m about a fifth through a neat book on the subject that delves more into the personalities involved (James I, Charles I, Cromwell, etc.) than the tactics and strategeries of the conflict. So you can say I’m meandering my way through the English countryside in my down time.

 

The family is doing really well; no complaints from me on that part. Patch is killing it her senior year (only three more months to go!) and is looking forward to attending college in the northeast. I’m not. I’ll miss her a lot – but I’m trying not to think about it. In a little over six months we’ll be empty nesters! Ay caramba! Little One is wrapping up her college career and looks to be starting her full-time teaching career in a little over six months too. The wife has been told she needs to travel more in her job, so it looks like I’ll be spending a lot of time with the dog.

 

Anyway, that’s a snapshot of Chez Hopper a la Texas, midwinter 2026. I’ll try to get more posts in. I think a par of twice a week is doable. I was thinking of a regular weekly music post. I’ve spent the last week listening to The Doors’ six albums chronologically (I was hugely into them around 1987 and haven’t listened to them much since). But I still listen to my growing classical music collection and have been listening off and on to early Sinatra and jazz music centered around its 1959-1960 renaissance. We’ll see.

 

Hope things are well with you too!

 

Revelation

  

As part of one of my New Year’s resolutions, I joined a bible study group at my church.

 

Four studies were offered: The Mass, The Timeline of the Church, Mary, and The Book of Revelation. Which do you think I chose? Your humble author, devourer of science fiction and weird esoterica such as Nostradamus, and aficionado of historical mysteries? That’s right; I signed up to do a deep dive into the Apocalypse.

 

We meet on Monday nights from 7 to 9. So far I attended two sessions. We’re working with a study guide published by Ascension Press. The classes start with an hour reviewing the questions from the workbook out loud; these vary from simple listings of the various items we read in the current chapter to speculation on what God is speaking to us through them. Then we watch an hourlong recorded presentation by the author of the study workbook. It covers not only the text of the Book of Revelation, but the historical, cultural, biblical, and spiritual context of the themes we encounter. There are about 25 of us in the group, one-third men and two-thirds women, ranging in age from mid-30s to one in her late 80s. I’m about the median age. So far I’ve found it warm, welcoming, and extremely interesting and informative. I expect to be an expert in the final book of the New Testament when the study ends in ten weeks.

 

In the days leading up to the first class I felt a little weird. The last college course I took was nearly thirty years ago. Apart from a few classes for my IT certifications around the turn-of-the-century and my eight-week H&R Block tax preparer course in 2016, this is my first foray into formalized group learning in a long while. I must admit, auto-didact I claim to be, there’s nothing like a group setting to hold one’s feet to the fire. Plus, I am learning from my classmates. All are nice people, all are the sort of Catholics who put their faith into practice, so I quickly overcame any nerves midway through the first session.

 

Already I am loaded with stats and trivia. But I am wondering whether I would share that here or, if so, how much and what exactly? While recapping every session might be overkill, I think I’ll post some “highlights” midway through and an evaluation when it finishes at the end of March. And maybe some odd or inspiring things I come across here and there. There is a “homework heavy” aspect to the preparation before a sessions (15-20 minutes daily), so I don’t want to burn myself out. I am, after all, still reading other non-religious books voraciously, as well as working and parenting full time, walking as much as possible, etc.

 

I’ll have to give it some thought. But I’ll definitely post something, and continue to write and publish here when the spirit moves me.

 

Happy (End Times) readings!

 

Christmas 2025

 

Well, our fifth Christmas down in Texas has come and passed. And to celebrate, Texas delivered summer for us. Yes, temps hovered around 80, blessing us with a minor sun’s anvil. I walked my route around the ponds both days, in t-shirt and shorts, and each time I finished I felt like I had mowed the lawn, ran a 10K, lifted weights with a young Arnold on Venice Beach and gyrated to the “Flash Dance” song while welding two metal boards together. It was unseasonably hot.

 

But it did not dampen our Christmas. Fortunately, down here AC systems are no joking matter, and we kept the indoor climate a frosty 68.

 

That was really the only negative, though. We went to Christmas Eve’s midnight mass at our local parish, with Little One’s boyfriend joining us for the first time. He’s a Christian but not a Catholic, so this was a legit trial by fire for him, and he handled it well. By the time all was done, however, we didn’t get to bed by 2 am (or 3 am, in some cases), so Christmas Day didn’t commence until 11 am the next morning.

 

It was a leisurely day of opening gifts, snacking, drinking, and eating leftovers. The Mrs. made a pot roast for dinner, complimented with Little One’s carrots and feta cheese dip. Patch was recovering from sickness, so we kept her away from cooking duties. We watched – and good-heartedly mocked – a Hallmark flick while Little One visited her bf’s family in the evening. Then I read a bit and went to bed just after midnight.

 

So I know you’re all wondering – what did Santa bring the Hopper?

 

Well, as always, Santa did good by me.

 

The Mrs. bought me two John Le Carré books. Le Carré is my newest literary obsession, having read The Spy Who Came in From the Cold last week. Haven’t “reviewed” it yet, but I’ll get there. The books she bought me were the two that precede TSWCIFTC. You should read Le Carré in order, as later books reference early ones, and you want to journey through them as spoiler-free as possible. She also gifted me some socks and skin care, which my old epidermis is in dire need of, plus a gift card to my local used book store.

Patch continued her passion for gifting me records – the 62nd and 63rd in my collection: Two Schubert albums, Symphony No. 5 in Bb, Symphony No. 8 in Bm (“Unfinished”) and the Quintet in A, better known as the “Trout.” And Little One bought me … an ergonomic comfy chair for my desk, having seen the pathetic metal folding chair – with a small blanket cushion – I’d been using for the past couple of years. So no more achy back. A practical gift, one of the best types of presents.

... Not shown - my new ergonomic chair! ...

I, whose love language is definitely NOT gift giving, lucked out. Everyone seemed to like what I gave them. I bought the wife a hockey puck – with tickets to a Dallas Stars game on the other side. She’s turned into a manic hockey fan, and enjoys the games exponentially more than I do. They’re playing the Bruins at the end of January, and she hates Boston. I got Patch Steven King’s Carrie (a favorite she’s been looking for forever but Texas doesn’t seem to stock) and an Ulta gift card; and Little One a flexible jar opener (an inside joke, useful now that she lives in her own apartment) and a PetCo gift card, to take care of her new kitten over there.

My boss got us all squishy blankets, so I regifted that for my dog Charlie; he’s a connoisseur of anything blanket-y, the softer the better. Candles and gift certificates and gift cards from parents both north and east of us rounded out the holiday haul.

I’m off for the next three days – my gift to myself – and then I work Monday and Tuesday of next week, followed by New Year’s Eve and Day off. I plan a post on my resolution as well as a post mortem on 2024’s resolution for 2025. Oh, and the 2025 Best Ofs! Don’t forget that annual festivity!

Hope you all had a very Merry Christmas!

More to follow!

 

Hopper's Day Out

 

At the beginning of the month I still had seven days of PTO left. These are of a “use or lose” variety, so I requested some random Wednesdays and Fridays. Today was the first. And since I was all by myself (well, the dog shadowed me all morning while I did my laundry), I decided to jump in the car and drive the 40 minutes northwest to Denton, Texas. We’d been there last four years ago touring the University of North Texas with Little One, and while there, after a late lunch, we spotted a huge used bookstore where I was able to browse and pick up a few things of interest.

 

It was time to return.

Downtown Denton

 

So I motored on out and spent an hour in the store. A vast quantity and quality of used books, CDs, DVDs, records, games, video games, and other collectible memorabilia. Heaven, in other words. Here’s what I scored:

 

Three records –

 

Florida Suite / Dance Rhapsody No. 2 / Over the Hills and Far Away – composed by Frederick Delius and conducted by Sir Thomas Beecham.

 

Holiday Symphony – composed by Charles Ives and conducted by Leonard Bernstein.

 

Der Freischutz – an opera composed by Carl Maria von Weber and conducted by Rudolf Kempe.

 

Florida Suite is a lovely piece of melody sublime in its beauty, its conciseness, its power to evoke nature untouched by man. Loved it for over two decades and have possibly a different version of it on CD somewhere. Holiday Symphony features the discordant work of Charles Ives (I did a short post on this highly eccentric composer in the early days of this blog). My favorite piece is “Thanksgiving.” Finally, I bought the opera Der Freischutz due to having fond memories listening to it as a newlywed when we first returned to New Jersey after our 18-month stint in Maryland. Good stuff, all.

 

Then I spotted stacked double against a long wall an uncountable amount of science fiction paperbacks – must’ve been about 750 I would guess – and all priced for $1.00 each! How can you go wrong with a bargain like that? Unfortunately, they were not organized alphabetically, so I spent a good twenty minutes with my head tilted reading spine after spine. I picked out three, each one for a specific reason.

 

Space Skimmer is a book I read in Binghamton, NY, visiting my paternal grandparents right after my parents divorced, probably in the winter of 1981. It was a comforting read. Pirates of Venus was a book I may have read even earlier. But I do remember picking it up again in early 2009 and starting a re-read, when my toddler Patch disappeared the book for me. Never found it again. So I have unfinished business with this one. Finally, Asimov’s Foundation. Ah, Asimov’s Foundation! If ever a book was an Achille’s heel to my reading life, it was this one. Universally lauded as one of the all-time SF greats, I never read it as a kid, and the two or three times I tried as an adult it just never gained traction. Maybe this time will be the charm.

 

I got some Italian food on the way back, brought it home and ate while the dog tracked every piece going from my plate to my mouth, drool pooling around his anxious paws. And now he’s staring at me typing this. Will work on my two current reads later this afternoon and tonight will throw one of the new discs on the turntable.

 

All in all, a great PTO day.

 

PS – I have outlined reviews of three books recently read. Just need to compose them into some medium-length posts. Hopefully I can get one out every three days going in to Thanksgiving.

Hopper Yet Again a Year Older

 

Weird birthday this year. It fell in the middle of the week, during a stressful time for the Mrs. – she had CEOs from Europe touring her stores and would be overnighting in Houston on my birthday. No problem; I’m a big boy. Little One was stuck in school 45 minutes away; student teaching during the day and taking a class or two every night. Patch, however, has a birthday that falls the day before mine. So the agreement the family decided on was that we’d all celebrate Patch’s birthday the Sunday before and mine the Saturday after.  

 

Patch, as always, made out like a bandit. The Mrs. took care of all the makeup, beauty, and clothing gifts, with some help from Little One. I bought her a “Five Nights At Freddy’s” stuffed animal, an LED-strobe light thingie for their upstairs apartment, and a gift card to B&N. We had ramen at a highly-rated restaurant in downtown Dallas, and cake afterwards at home.

 

Me, all I wanted was a home-cooked meal. And the wife, as usual, outdid herself: homemade lasagna (half-veggie for Little One, half-meat for the rest of us) and – brownies for dessert! This we did last Saturday. I mowed the lawn and took Little One on errands on me while Patch worked at the boutique. I chilled in the afternoon watching a bad movie from my youth (1978’s The Medusa Touch, starring a drunk or hung-over Richard Burton) while the ladies went to the town pool. Then, lasagna, and after we ate I sat down in my chair in the living room to open up gifts. And what did they get me?

Well, for starters, I got this card from Patch:

 

Loved it. I know deep down she wants to read Tolkien but will never admit it. I’ll have to work on that.

 

She also gifted me two records: Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 6 in Bm (“Pathetique”) and a dual record of “Death and Transfiguration” by Richard Strauss on one side with Wagner’s “Siegfried Idyll” on the other. Both records are older than me by four and seven years respectively. I plan on listening to both later today. My collection is now up to 56 albums.

 

Little One, my impoverished college student, bought me a large Yankee candle for my desk, pumpkin flavor. But she spent the early afternoon with me, which is more priceless than any gift I could receive. She also bought me a card showing a smiling slice of pizza wishing me a Happy Birthday, with a heartfelt message inside.

 

The Mrs. bought me a desperately-needed pair of khakis and a book written by Charlie Kirk, Time for a Turning Point. I told her honestly that I may need a bit of distance before I crack the book. I was a huge Charlie Kirk fan for several years. He was one of the twenty or so YouTube channels I watched almost daily, and I agreed with about 98 percent of his message. If rumor was correct and he was contemplating converting to the Catholic faith, then that would up it to 100%. I’m thinking of starting the book early in the new year. To round off my gifts, she bought us tickets to see the Dallas Stars play in early October.

 

And that’s that. Another year round the sun, another year older. Sands through the hourglass, waiting for nobody. I’m in a good place in most of the categories I should be in a good place, save for two major areas I’m struggling with. Other than that, we now look forward to Little One’s birthday next week, the wife’s three weeks after that, then Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s. Time marches on …

 

Feeling Guilty ...

 

 

Over the lack of posting this summer.

 

Truth is, my attention lay elsewhere, by choice and necessity. I’ve also been pursuing a lot of non-blogworthy topics and trains of thought. Couple that with a lack of inspiration, drive, and energy, and that should explain the dearth of posts.

 

It’s not that I’ve had no inspiration, drive, or energy this summer. But it’s been expended on … real life. A lot of busyness. A lot. Much familial growing. And we’re already back in school.

 

The wife and I met Little One’s new boyfriend over dinner and drinks in July. My daughter’s happy, he seems great, and we approve. She finished her day care job mid-August and jumped immediately into student teaching, helping with fourth- and fifth-graders in an impoverished city school. For commuting she bought my car (actually, paid off the remaining loan with her funds from the day care job) and I had a great experience at Carmax buying a new used car, which I’ve been driving three weeks now.

 

Patch has started her first retail job, working in a boutique a couple miles away, necessitating drop offs and pick ups at odd hours. She started her senior year in high school two weeks ago already. We had Back to School Night and met her teachers, and are happy with all. I particularly bonded with her new English teacher, who’s reading Watership Down for the first time. When meeting her statistics teacher, I opened with, “Tell me, what percentage of parents show up for Back to School Night?” Patch also got her driver’s permit, and we’re looking to head out to a parking lot this Monday for her first parent-taught lesson.

 

We drove out to Hill Country near Austin for a long lazy weekend, hanging with my wife’s sister and her extended family. They have a sprawling ranch with a pool, barn, and guesthouse, and are fresh from a year working in Barcelona. Many stories and much laughter. I actually got a little sunburnt swimming. Oh, and I saw my first scorpion – hanging out in the middle of the guest house where we were staying, where I was walking around in bare feet! I hurriedly covered it with a drinking glass. Per my brother-in-law, they can’t kill you, but a sting feels like a hot lava injection and is excruciatingly painful for about ten minutes. He promptly squashed the critter. And he warned us not to go behind the guesthouse, as he heard rattlesnakes back there.

 

Last weekend we moved Little One into her first off-campus apartment. She rooms with two other girls – one of whom has a very famous parent I cannot talk about. The other girl’s parents were there, and the father and I spent three hours assembling IKEA bunk beds. The apartment is across the street from her college and has (I’m told) a very Melrose-place vibe. There’s a central pool and courtyard where all the college kids relax and party. There’s also a stray cat that’s made the courtyard its kingdom and prowls up and down, begging at doors.

 

Man, senior year for both girls is going to fly by. Next May we’ll have two graduations, and that follows right on the heels of our 25th wedding anniversary. Don’t ask to borrow any money off me in 2026 – I’ll be tapped out for a long while.

 

My reading has improved. I devoured a fascinating if somewhat dumbed-down-for-the-masses book called Math in 100 Numbers that’s got me inspired again. Those who know me know that every September when school starts, when that crispness floats in the air, I get an urge to read science and math. I also powered through a pretty good Ben Bova sci fi soap opera (Leviathans of Jupiter) and re-read the sci fi horror Altered States, a book I remember reading at the town pool 15 years ago with my toddlers in the kiddie pool. I am excited because September 1 I am going to start re-reading Stephen King’s It, one of my favorites of his, and one which I last read as a teen in 1987.

 

Healthwise, I did re-gain some weight this summer, but I resumed lifting weights and walking. I’d like to be under 200 by my birthday next month. But lifting gives me confidence and an overall sense of well-being, and I’m reconciled to have to do it for the rest of my life. Nothing nearly Schwarzeneggaresque. Just heavy enough that I won’t have a heart attack and my muscles will firm up and my belly shrink. And I still enjoy listening to my history podcasts while walking.

 

Other random summer 2025 events: played Mr. Mom for a couple days while my wife was on a short business trip to Houston; had a wonderful confession experience with a wonderful priest one Saturday; bought five more classical records for the collection; one daughter with a scary inexplicable hive breakout one night; another daughter hosting her bff at our house for a movie night / sleepover; and perhaps the biggest adrenaline rush – helicopters overhead and police cars zipping around the neighborhood one night searching for a possibly dangerous fugitive.

 

Toss in some other non-blogworthy stuff, and it’s quite a busy five weeks. This weekend, however, should be restful, relaxing, and chill. We’re expected to have blah weather. Overcast, spots of rain, temps not too hot but kinda muggy. The wife wants to get some pool time in with Little One, but we’re not sure if that’ll happen. I want to wrap up my current read, watch some movies with and without Patch, keep lifting weights and get a few walks in. I need desperately to mow the lawn but need 24 hours of rain-free weather to accomplish that. Then, September, the Hopper birthday month.

 

Until then, here’s Charlie:

And here’s a review I posted in 2010 about Altered States. It’s a quick read worth a look.