Showing posts with label Finding Finley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Finding Finley. Show all posts

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Sink or Swim

I have a new name for my friend Ken. It’s Don, as in Don Quixote.

Ken, er Don, has a romantic notion he can teach me to swim. Fool that he is—a combination of the knight errant with an uncanny resemblance to his loyal squire, Sancho Panza—Don has issued a challenge, that this summer of my 62nd year he will teach me in his pool to overcome my tendency to sink rather than swim.

It is a gentlemanly and kind offer. Worthy of a quest that in times of yore would have received royal support. I hope I am worthy of his trust and effort. I will do my part, as long as he keeps the water temperature above 90 degrees. Usually his pool is a few degrees shy of my comfort level. Perhaps he’ll indulge me by turning up the heat.

It’s impossible to explain the basis of my fear of water. Some of my earliest childhood photos show me cringing in the water while being held by relatives or friends. I clearly was not enjoying myself. I was not a happy camper in those photos.

I failed to learn how to swim despite 14 years of summer camp. My brother can swim; my sister passed the Red Cross instructor course. I made sure Dan and Ellie learned. Dan even became a lifeguard. Gilda can swim.

I couldn’t ride a two-wheeler until Gilda forced me to learn when I was 40 so we could go on family bicycle trips.

If I learn to swim, I don’t anticipate taking up water skiing, scuba diving or some other exotic activity. But I might shed my fear of water and antipathy to pool parties.

While I’m learning to swim this summer, Finley also is taking his first swimming lessons (http://www.findingfinley.blogspot.com/ Read the July 8 "Little Fish in a Big Pond, er, Pool" entry, though I'm biased and think you'll enjoy all of the stories about Finley.)

What are the odds my 20-month-old grandson will learn before I do?

Monday, June 28, 2010

Catching Up

Just back from four nights in Finley-land. It’s a lot easier being a grandparent than a parent. I’m sure all grandparents adore their grandkids, but I must say, had our children been as “easy” as Finley, Gilda and I definitely would not have stopped at two.

As babies, Dan and Ellie resisted going to bed early, and when they did finally succumb they wouldn’t let Gilda sleep more than two hours in any one stretch, even into their toddling years (for those wondering why Gilda suffered and I didn’t, as much, it’s because she was breastfeeding them). Finley, on the other hand, adheres to a schedule. Most nights, without complaint, he’s put to bed around 7 and doesn’t wake up until 3ish, then it’s back to bed till around 7. He takes two hour naps in the morning and afternoon. He smiles a lot, plays by himself, doesn’t require constant holding. He even enjoys the solid, or rather mush, food he’s getting—peaches, peas, bananas and, his favorite, apple sauce. His “dessert” treat is a few swigs of water through a double handled tippy-cup.

Sorry if I’m gushing like a proud granddad. Can’t help it. (For more on the wunderkid, plus pictures, visit http://findingfinley.blogspot.com.)

Being with Finley finally triggered my decision to pick GM as my grandparent name. I had previously rejected GM (Grandpa Murray) in deference to my nephew-in-law’s prior employment with the Ford Motor Co. But the more I thought about it, including my recent blog reminder about Henry Ford’s anti-semitism, the less inclined I was to honor that decision. So GM it is, along with GG for Grandma Gilda.


Fearless Prediction 1: My last political prediction was that President Obama would pick Hillary Clinton to succeed John Paul Stevens on the Supreme Court as a means of diffusing partisan debate on the nomination and also to remove any possibility that she would consider running for president in 2012. I also thought it was important to have at least one Protestant on the court (http://nosocksneededanymore.blogspot.com/2010/04/justice-for-clinton.html).

Well, unless Elena Kagan really muffs it as she begins today her Senate confirmation process, my fearless prediction will have to wait until another vacancy arises (hopefully on the Conservative—hard to call it simply Republican—side of the bench).

It was no comfort to read Noah Feldman’s Op/Ed piece in today’s NY Times that six Catholics and three Jews on the Supreme Court would be a good thing (http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/28/opinion/28feldman.html?scp=1&sq=noah%20feldman&st=cse). Feldman may be a law professor at Harvard, but I believe he is wrong. The strength of this country lies in its diversity and acceptance of different cultures. Yes, it’s wonderful that White Anglo-Saxon Protestants (WASPs) no longer have a stranglehold on power. But it is equally important their views and heritage be incorporated into the deliberations of our highest (not necessarily the best) legal minds.


Fearless Prediction 2: The McChrystal debate raged on in Mamaroneck yesterday. Was the four-star general shrewd or not in venting before a Rolling Stone reporter? I’m not going to relate the arguments put forward at the afternoon get-together. But I will go on the record with my next fearless political prediction:

Stanley McChrystal will be touted as a 2012 Republican presidential candidate. Never mind that he doesn’t have any elective office background. Forget that he disregarded the chain of command, that he dissed the president, the vice president and countless other civilian officials. All those “negatives” will be viewed as positives by Republicans, especially Tea Partiers.

Like McClellan during the Civil War and MacArthur during the Korean War, he’s a military man who will seek the White House, or at the very least be sought after as the GOP savior-warrior. Maybe it’s the “Mic” sound at the start of their names that hotwires all these generals to go rogue and defy their commanders-in-chief.

Can you really trust someone who eats just one meal a day? Sounds very Bin Ladenish to me.


Fearless Observation: My observation that Eliot Spitzer was riding high and hard on the rehabilitation trail (http://nosocksneededanymore.blogspot.com/2010/04/fear-of-falling.html) proved accurate with the announcement last Wednesday that he will co-host a new CNN prime time talk show beginning in the fall. Seems hardly a week goes by without some politician or public figure being ensnared in a sex scandal. The public’s ability to keep track of all the dirty linen would be sorely tested if not for all of the celebrity gossip shows, YouTube videos and our overall fascination with sleeze.

The more I learn about our nation’s history the more I am coming to understand this fixation is not new, that the Internet, TV and gossip magazines are mere instruments of our sexual hangups and curiosity. As far back as Dolley Madison, if not earlier, politicians and pundits wondered if the presidency was sullied, even obtained, by sexual favors.

So let the pols play on. It diverts our attention from such pressing matters as immigration reform, energy policy, peace in the Mideast and any number of other issues that cloud the national debate on whether Al and Tipper or Bill and Hillary are representative of marriage today.


Return of the Wasps: Notwithstanding my earlier comment about the need for more WASPs on the Supreme Court, I was surprised this afternoon by the return of a wasp to my master bathroom. Over the years wasps have filtered down from the attic through the fan vent above the shower. Curiously, this year the fly-ins rarely occurred. I wondered if wasps were suffering the same vanishing fate as bees.

As much as I dislike, even fear, wasps, they do provide a service, eating up other insects. But my tolerance has its limits. Invade my living quarters, and you no longer enjoy my hospitality, as this afternoon’s wasp found out.

Monday, May 17, 2010

Down But Not Out

I’m soooooooo bummed out!!!

After failing to qualify for numerous senior citizen discounts because we’re only 61, Gilda and I were told earlier today we were too old to be bone marrow donors. Seems you have to be between the ages of 18-60 to physically save a life.

Of course, a financial donation also helps save lives; we’ll give to the Gift of Life Bone Marrow Foundation through the Matt Fenster Donor Circle, http://www.mattfenstercircle.org (donor kits cost $54 each to process. Interestingly, 54 is a 3x multiple of 18, the numerical value of the Hebrew word chai, which means life).

Matt Fenster is a father of four young children. He was stricken with AML, acute myelogenous leukemia in April. I’ll be including Matt in my prayers.


Walk to Defeat ALS: We weren’t the only Forseters trying to put an end to a dreaded disease this weekend. Our daughter Ellie was part of the 5K Walk to Defeat ALS (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, commonly referred to as Lou Gehrig’s Disease). Ellie’s boyfriend’s father, Don, was recently diagnosed with ALS. Don retired from the U.S. Air Force. He was a pilot for the Strategic Air Command, based in Omaha.

Three of Don and wife Rachel’s children live in the NY metro area. Along with their younger sister who's considering moving here as well, their spouses and children, relatives including Aunt Laurie, and Ellie, they walked as a team on Saturday. Granddaughter Rachel, standing beside Don, helped cut the ribbon as the camera crew from Fox News NY (Channel 5) videoed the start of the walk for broadcast on the 10 pm news (regrettably, no link is available).

I’ve added a new piece of jewelry to my right wrist, a watermelon-colored flexible bracelet stamped with the words “Strike Out ALS.” For more info on ALS and how to make donations, visit http://www.alsa.org.


Happy Half-Birthday: Finley Hawthorne Forseter turned six months old Sunday. He’s officially reached the adorable stage (not that he wasn’t cute before, but I’ve often said that babies don’t really enthuse you until they are able to do things. Lately Finley’s been rolling over a lot, smiling, enjoying the swing, and even eating some solid food.

I still haven’t finalized on a name. Don’s family suggested Granpa No Socks. Might be hard for a little kid to say, but it does have a certain je ne sais quoi quality to it.

For those interested in seeing how Finley looks these days, here’s a link to his blog: http://www.findingfinley.blogspot.com/


Hawthorn Tree: Hard to resist buying a tree that for all intents and purposes shares a name (minus an “e”) with your daughter-in-law and grandson.

To fill out the barren space in our front yard caused by the sudden and still unexplained decision of our neighbors to cut down their perfectly healthy tree that graced our property with its canopy, leaving a nine foot slingshot stump as a remnant of their foul action (http://nosocksneededanymore.blogspot.com/2010/04/fear-of-falling.html), Gilda and I have been scouring local garden centers for the right tree to place on our side of the property line.

We looked at pear trees, cherry trees, Japanese maple trees, Thundercloud plum trees. Last week we chose a Winter King Hawthorn. We planted it today (a note of accuracy in reporting. When I say “we” I did not mean Gilda and I. Let’s get serious here—though Gilda is a force of nature to be reckoned with in the garden, I have as much horticultural knowledge and ability as your left big toe.)

The tree looks great. No word yet from our neighbors.