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.

 

Summer Moving Along

 

Haven’t had the energy or the will to post anything of interest. Not that it hasn’t been an interesting summer so far. But what is currently occupying my mind and my time are private thoughts, deep thoughts, self-directed thoughts which might not interest you.

 

The most I will say, however, is that I have been expending a great deal of effort trying to figure out how to proceed to a new career. For twenty-three years I have been handling people’s money, in the form of payroll or tax prep. To be honest, similar to the three years I spent in IT at the start of the century, I am kinda sick of listening to people complain. I’m trying to find a niche that hits the ikigai sweet spot: something I’ll enjoy, something fairly in demand, and something that pays. I don’t need nor want to be a multimillionaire, but my salary over the past few years hasn’t risen with the costs of just about everything else, and that scares me a bit. Haven’t had any breakthroughs yet, but I’m still working on it.

 

The girls are spreading their wings, testing the air above and around the nest. Little One is getting valuable experience running a classroom of twenty-three children ages five to nine full-time. Patch is doing lots of odd jobs and is getting ready for the drivers exam to get her permit. They and the Mrs. are currently in Pennsylvania with my folks while they investigate a couple of northeast colleges for Patch and visit old friends. I’m stuck here in Texas, working and babysitting the dog. The $1,000+ we’ll save that would’ve gone to a round-trip ticket for me and a dogsitter is going to the cost of their rental car.

 

This week my routine has been fairly, well, routine. Wake up, let the dog out, feed him, go to work, do my spreadsheets and chat to my small circle of workmates for eight hours, go home, walk the dog, feed him, then feed myself and watch a movie. This week I watched Knocked Up, The Meg, Dream Scenario, and The Mummy. Then I try to read a bit, play fetch with good old Charlie, then go to bed. Rinse and repeat. Much like my bachelor days in the 90s, but with no beer, no cigarettes, no band and no night school.

 

Oh, wait! I have been playing my electric guitar. I usually practice for about an hour every weekend; been doing so since February – by the end of the year I should be up to speed. I’ve been focusing a lot on Led Zeppelin; got down the solos to Whole Lotta Love, Stairway, Misty Mountain Hop, Living Loving Maid – simple stuff, but fun stuff. Might try to learn Gilmore’s solo to Another Brick in the Wall. And I also got down the little solo and heavy bridge break in Beck’s Bolero. Sometimes I play along with an album, such as AC/DC’s Powerage or The Cult’s Sonic Temple. I find it a great distraction from the stresses of life, and now that guitar playing has no stress associated with it (auditioning band members, hauling everything to shows, balancing egos and having to keep pace with bandmates, etc.) I’m having a blast.

 

One area I’m not having a blast with is my literary life. I finished a cheesy beach paperback the first week of the month – I think I’ll save that for a review – but after that, I’m striking out one after the other. I tried my hand at a new fantasy novel (got 45 pages in), a philosophical history of German idealism (got 30 pages in), and indecision over whether to crack open an unread physics book on deck or an unread World War II book on deck. Even Little One attempted to help me out by lending me her copies of The Merchant of Venice, History of the Peloponnesian War, a book on Catholic teaching, and another on the 300-year history of the Medici family of Renaissance Florence. I thumbed through the first few pages of the Medici book last night, and will try to break into that later tonight.

 

I’m scheduled to pick the girls up from DFW late Sunday night, so I have another two days to myself. I think I’ll do some long walks both days and relax with a book at the park one afternoon (it’s supposed to be a high of 95 this weekend). And I also plan on driving over to the used book store to pick up my 50th record. I’m hoping to score a Wagner, but since they’re all good, I’m not picky.

 

Enjoy the weekend!

 

June Recap

 

 

In light of the dearth of postings, you may surmise June has been quite the busy month. And you’d be surmising correctly. A lot’s been going on down here at Chez Hopper south-of-the-border (well, south of the Mason-Dixon line, if said line stretched to the midpoint of the United States). Some blog-worthy stuff, some stuff that’s too personal for the semi-anonymity being thrown around here, and some stuff I don’t even want to commit to the electronic page.

 

One thing’s for sure: we’ve been on the go somewhat constantly. Little One, elementary school teacher-in-training, has been working full time at a pre-school / summer camp, going crazy each day with different themes (movie day, wacky water fun day, bake bread day, etc.) managing a class of around 25 five- to nine-year-olds. To get to her job, though, she needs my car, which leaves me with no wheels. So I have to be dropped off and picked up from my place of business three days a week, and to this soul who loves regularity, that’s often stressfully unpredictable. I normally clock out at 4, and being picked up at as early as 3:15 or as late as 6:30 is not an uncommon occurrence.

 

Patch had a week of Yearbook Camp, but that only meant we dropped her off at the high school and picked her up in the early evening. They bussed all the high school yearbook students (we have something like eleven high schools in our own monster-sized town) to one of the local community colleges where they all learned the creative and marketing aspects of yearbooking, brainstorming, playing games and winning prizes, and socializing.

 

The Mrs. has been fairly solitary, only leaving on one short business trip down to Austin for three days. But she’s been busy and stressed as ever. Me, I’ve taken to working on the exterior of my home. Each weekend I’m mowing, cutting shrubbery, mulching, keeping the encroaching weeds at bay with Roundup, filling cracks in the ground and bunny holes with dirt, etc. I have a huge gardening hat (given to me by Patch on my last birthday) which keeps the anvil of the sun off my face and neck, but the mosquitos have been feasting on me, which can be quite unpleasant. Everything down in Texas is bigger, even the mosquito bites.

 

Speaking of gifts given to me, I had a great Father’s Day two weeks ago. The ladies treated me to a juicy steak, with sides of asparagus and home-made macaroni and cheese. Little One bought me a book Constantine and the Conversion of Europe (which I read the following week) and Patch got me L’Enfance du Christ, a double-album oratorio by the composer Hector Berlioz (my record collection is now up to 49). And to top it all off, we four watched Titan: The OceanGate Submersible Disaster, something I’ve been into off-and-on since following it closely in real-time Father’s Day weekend in 2023.

 

More importantly, my daily background radiation of existential dread has been shouting and gesticulating and doing angry cartwheels louder and louder, until I could no longer shut it out. While Little One and the Mrs. and, to a lesser extent, Patch, are all thriving down here, I have yet to hit my stride. The job is meaningless to me, a dead-end that merely pays the mortgage and some groceries. I have not connected with anything or anyone (not that I’m a connector by nature), but the girls are becoming adults and making strides to move out and start their own lives, and I’m a little frightened by the aspect of not having them around on an everyday basis, as they’ve been for the last 15, 20 years. Even the dog is getting older, having just surpassed the Mrs. in the dog/human year ratio and rapidly catching up to, and soon to pass, me.

 

So I decided to devote some time to finding meaning. Sounds suspiciously hippy, and I’m naturally suspicious of anything hippy. But as a first step I got some books and promised myself to do the exercises in ’em, which ultimately revealed nothing new to me. Though, to be fair, I haven’t finished everything I got. I suffer from a lot of psychological hangups, some innate and some from environmental causes, and even if I were to move past them, there’s always the financial vise of debt and obligation, as well as familial and social expectations, and all these and more conspire to keep me locked in unfulfilling routine. Not sure how to break out, but I have been giving it my strongest effort since moving down here to Texas four years ago. 

 

What does the immediate future hold?

 

Well, I took today off from work to take care of a few things, and I have a three-day remote week ahead. Then another three-day weekend as we celebrate the Fourth. The wife and girls are flying up to Pennsylvania for 10 days two weeks into July, as part of a vacation / college scouting trip for my youngest. The Mrs. will be doing a lot of driving, the farthest being a trip to a college in Buffalo that Patch is interested in. They’ve never seen Niagara Falls, so at least something positive will come of that if the school fails to check all the boxes. Me, I’m staying home with Charlie. The $750 round-trip airline ticket for me plus the $600 dogsitting charge will offset the cost of a rental car. I’ll be working and walking the dog, but at least I can watch a few science fiction flicks and feast on some Hawaiian pizza while dueling with that cartwheeling existential angst.

 

That’s the tip of the iceberg here. June, on the whole you were okay. Had better months, but had worse too. Now get outta here, and let’s get on with summer.

 

Vacation 2025

 

Spent last week visiting family and friends in Pennsylvania and New Jersey, the first time I’ve been up there in exactly two years. We have the girls fly up once or twice annually to visit their grandparents, cousins, and old school friends, but I haven’t been to the great northeast wilderness (yes, there is plenty of wilderness up there) in a long time and I missed it.

 

It was whirlwind week. We hit an extreme amount of turbulence flying up into New Jersey / New York airspace (of the type when the 747 drops a stomach-churning fifty feet than banks sharply to one side, to be repeated at unexpected intervals) but landed safely in LaGuardia on Monday. We picked up our reserved rental car and made it up to my folks’ by eight that night.

 

Over the next four days we did a lot, thanks to mild weather. Tuesday saw us hitting the thrift shop with the girls (I picked up four golf shirts suitable for work plus a beautiful edition of Moby Dick – Moby Dick! – with a cover price of $21 – for 89 cents[!], the greatest bargain of my book-hunting career). Wednesday my brother and aunt and uncle drove up for a barbecue and we played pickleball all day. On Thursday we visited a college for Patch and then hit the local wing joint for dinner. Friday we drove into New Jersey and visited our old friends (my movie-going buddy from back in the day) while the girls socialized with one of theirs. Saturday we lounged in the morning and left at noon for the drive back to LaGuardia and the flight home. Sunday was a recovery day which included a lot of laundry being done.

 

The only downside was all that driving. 700 miles, I estimate, over the course of five days. Ugh. My buttocks are still petrified.

 

Needless to say, I was quite whelmed at work, having to do nine days of accounting in four days, including closing the month, and responding to 87 emails. Most nights I came home shell-shocked and spent the evenings with Ishmael on the Pequod. Today, Friday, I am quite caught up and working from home, hence this short update. Only one more big report to get done, then I’m off the clock.

 

Anyways, I think I’m going to start reading Augustine’s Confessions followed by his City of God this weekend. I’m about halfway through Moby Dick, my third visit with America’s greatest novel. Truly it encapsulates more than, in the words of Ron Swanson, the story of a man who hates a fish. There’s natural history, existentialism, a deep dive into human consciousness and motivation, intense drama and glorious, flowering mid-nineteenth-century prose, the chronological highwater mark of English literature that only few can delve nowadays. I’m enjoying it immensely, so much so that I might check out another 1850-ish novel by an American, The House of Seven Gables, once I’m finished. But Augustine is calling me now, so perhaps I’ll read that in the evenings and Melville at lunch.

 

Little One is in town today; she has two local summer job interviews this afternoon. My firstborn is growing so fast it’s almost frightening. The Mrs. will drive her back to school Saturday, grab her roommates, and they’ll all go “tulip picking,” or something of the sort. Patch is reffing Saturday morning (as long as the fields are dry; it rained all last night and this morning) and then later heading out to Six Flags with her friends. So I’ll be alone tomorrow afternoon. Probably get some wings or perhaps a Hawaiian pizza if I’m feeling wild and watch a classic flick.

 

Well, I got four emails while writing this, so back to work I go.

 

Happy reading!

 

February Recap

 

Hi, apologies for ghosting the Hopper!

 

Been very busy at work and at home. First off, February’s a short month, and for accounting purposes that makes it a busy one, as essentially I’m losing three work days compared to January. Plus I have a new partner in the office, and there’s training and all that. Went out for lunch with the bosses and the new hire a few days ago to plan out the upcoming month. At home, with my two spiritual devotions (still to remain unnamed and anonymous), plus my odd-day weightlifting workouts (15 so far in 2025), plus Thursday night movies with Patch, plus Star hockey with the Mrs., plus two Valentine’s Day nights out, well, I haven’t really had the energy or the motivation to blog here.

 

But I do have some ideas in varying stages of enfleshment.

 

First, those two Valentine’s Day night outs. For something different, the Mrs. and I decided one night would be for one person’s interests, and the other, for the other’s. This worked out so well we’re going to do it again next year. Then I have two musical posts on the way. Also I’m reviving an old feature of mine, a variation of “Words I Hate volume X” with “Phrases I Hate volume X.” There’s two on deck, and hopefully once completed there’ll be more humorous and punny than crotchety “get off my lawn!”-ish.

 

Today, though, I want to semi-publicly acknowledge that my January resolutions are still intact. I am still on the low-low-low sugar diet. An additional 6 pounds of sugar has NOT been filtered through my stomach, bloodstream, liver, kidneys, and digestive track, bringing the total to somewhere around 13 pounds. Google tells me my Les Paul electric guitar weighs around that much, as does a gallon of paint, a bowling ball, or a groundhog. Picture that volume-wise in sugar.

 

As mentioned above, I’ve been consistent moving the iron. Have not been consistent, though, with my walking, as we’ve had two cold spells of below-freezing weather. In fact, ten days ago, driving Patch to school one morning, my phone told me it was minus-2 with the wind chill, a record for us in the four years we’ve been down in North Dallas. And I’m still alcohol- and soda-free.

 

Has it helped me? Somewhat, yes. I’m down 9.5 pounds since December 31. I don’t feel as flabby and sluggish as I did in 2024, so my body is glacially reshaping and my energy returning. I’m sleeping much better than before, though I did have two sleepless nights this past month. The most important part, I think, is that I am regaining some peace of mind. I actually can’t wait to have my bloodwork done at the doctor’s (I have an April appointment). I’m expecting a nosedive with my triglycerides, and a better balance of good/bad cholesterol.

 

The overarching point here is, yeah, go after those goals. As a man who’s had a love-hate relationship with goal-setting (mostly hate; I can’t tell you how many times over the years I’ve set ambitious goals only to be derailed by either myself or outside circumstances), this is a very unique experience I’m having. A long time ago a self-help guru once said, when you have a lot of things you need and want to do, start with the physical. And it seems to be working for me. (Fingers crossed.) I may actually start to move on to larger goals, such as a third career option in the third half of my worklife, or some other extracurricular activity I’ve been afraid to try. We’ll see.

 

So, more to follow in the next couple of weeks. My writing goal with the Hopper is to post twice weekly, shorter stuff as the longer stuff tends to bite into my packed schedule. I’d like to hit a hundred posts a year. A far cry from my original goal of a post-a-day from 2008, but ambitious nonetheless at this stage of my life.

 

Office Fatigue

 

So for the first time in 58 months – something like 1,700 days – for the first time in nearly five years I worked “in office” for three days in a row.

I believe it was around the third week of March of 2020, during the Wu Flu thing, we received orders to work from home. As a payroll manager, this was something I could do after my company provided me with a laptop and a scanner.

After a couple of weeks we were allowed to come in on a two-day-a-week schedule. I can’t remember when this exactly happened but I believe it was around the end of April. We had to mask up unless we were in our offices / cubicles by ourselves. This charade played out for the remainder of my time in New Jersey.

When I arrived in Texas in July of 2021 I obtained a corporate job which was completely remote. I did all my interviewing via Teams and they shipped out a laptop to me a day before my start. In late January of 2022 we went to a two-day-a-week schedule, and they were generous in giving us remote time (for example, if a holiday fell on that Monday, we could spend the rest of the week working from home). Our department’s schedule was staggered, and my normal days in were Tuesday and Wednesday.

This continued for two years.

Now, at the start of 2025, we received the command to come in three days a week. This week was the first week for this (last week was shortened due to the Snowmaggedon), and man did it take a lot out of me. I wake up earlier than most farmers – it’s pitch black out and freezing (for Texas, but still, it’s been around 32 degrees every morning down here). The entire house is slumbering as I’m showering. I have to warm up the car for 10 minutes. And since I’m a night owl, the constant early waking has taken its toll, and I’ve been dragging buttock all week long.

Now, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, and I don’t mean to sound like a wimp. For 32 years I worked Monday through Friday, sometimes Saturdays, sometimes Sundays (with H&R Block) and sometimes late into the evening (again with H&R Block and regularly with the dealerships). I did it, and I reserve scorn for those techie company employees who fight their overlords against coming in a full week. 

But … man … did this remote job spoil me. I can do this job from Antarctica if I had to, as long as I had an internet connection. For me it boils down to another day of fighting traffic (north Dallas seems to have as many cars – and traffic lights – as Manhattan) – drivers riding my bumper, drivers zipping in and out of lanes, the cost of additional gas and tolls, and, most importantly, additional time I’m not paid for. All because I’m needed to sit at a cubicle in an office because “we work best when we collaborate face to face.”

Yesterday before heading out for the day one of my pals at work came up to me and said, in mock seriousness, “We did it. We did it.” And I had to laugh, knowing these same thoughts had been going through his head as well …