Be patient, my friends. I shall return.

.....I wonder why people can't be more civil when they disagree on something. An "argument" begins innocently enough, but then the two contestants begin to rant and rave, and both chatter at the same time, and pretty soon the battle is out of hand and neither one has made a dent in the mind of the other.  Tomorrow we are going to Tallahassee to visit my daughter, Robin, with whom I rarely have a disagreement, except perhaps, politically. But that is understandable; both she and her deceased husband Richard both worked diligently in Republican administrations. Robin had posts with three Republican VIPs--President Bush, the father, George W., and then Jeb in Florida.  I never worked for any politician that I can recall.  And I never got into any dispute with someone whose political views clashed with mine.  I make no secret that I am a Liberal Democrat, indebted to FDR for the GI Bill which got me through college. I never could have gone to college without that law.  And because of it, I had a decent career as a teacher, and I learned that integrity is the essence of everything successful.  So, remember that next time you have a dispute with a friend. 


It's five minutes to nine right now, and I have to leave to pack and to watch "Person of Interest"  I will not be able to write a blog for about a week, so check back here at that time.  I'll be in Tallahassee.

"What wound did ever heal, but by degrees." (Othello)

.....I am trying a new font for this posting and it's called "Helvitica" which I never heard of, but it looks O.K.  I like Ariel best, but I get tired of the same old thing all the time. By the "same old thing" I refer to fonts, not to people.  For people, I have different names.  Today began with an early morning phone call from Maroone Chevrolet where we brought Rhoda's 2008 Malibu for repairs.  She was unable to lock or unlock her doors with either of the "remotes" she got with the car when she bought it.  So, she had to use her key on all of them.  Steve, the mechanic we brought it to on Friday said that the cost to repair it with parts and labor would be $1094!  We told him the car was only four years old and had only 20,000+ miles on it, and that this kind of thing ought not to be happening to such a new car, and he said that he would talk to his manager to see what he can do for us.  An hour later, we  got a call from Steve, and he said that the job would be done for no charge!  Can you all believe that?  Now we don't know what to do with the thousand dollars we saved.  Maybe some scratchoff tickets.

.....I have been working on the Great American Unkown Novel (by the Famous Unknown Author) and it's damn difficult to write one when you haven't a clue as where to take it.  I just start writing down anything that comes from my brain, and then I send it to JR for editing.  I am dedicating this book to my future Great Grandson, Houston, son of Katrina and Bobby's first  grandson.  Bobby a grandfather?  That's pretty hard to take at this stage in my life.  I still want to think of him as a biker, a beer drinker, a soccer player, and a pool hustler...but a grandfather?  Oy vey! (as they say in Hebronics).  I will be taking a hiatus from blogging and novel writing this next weekend as we are going to visit Robin in Tallahassee.  We'll be there Saturday through Monday and then we' ll decide whether or not to come home or continue on to Biloxi to cavort and gamble at the Beau Rivage.

.....I am now happy to report that I am using only a cane to help me walk.  So, it's taken me over a year to get from the scooter to the push walker to the three wheeler to the cane.  I am finally pain free.  My left hip is healed and my right hip was healed long ago.  I can also ditch the cane in the house and walk around wobbly without it.  We will, nevertheless bring the cane and the three wheeler to Robin, and ditch the scooter.  I haven't felt so well in a long, long time.  It's been a long, long, winding road through windstorm and cactus.  

"The ballot is stronger than the bullet." (Lincoln)

.....The other day on my Facebook page, there was a message from my nephew, Mark Triton--my sister's son, who proudly gave the news, that his daughter--therefore my grand niece, (I believe) had joined the US Marine Corps. Meghan is a very bright and beautiful girl whom I believe just turned 22.  Now, along with my granddaughter, Katrina, my son Bobby's daughter, who is an Ensign in the US Navy, the family's military tradition is still existent and very much alive.  My father fought in Aero Squadron 27 in WWI, I served in the Naval Air Corps in WWII, my daughter, Robin, retired from the USMC as a Lt. Colonel & my son-in-law, Rich Higgins was a full Colonel in the Marine Corps who died a tragic death and for whom a guided missile destroyer, the USS Higgins, carries his name and has been adopted as a member of our family, if you will. My son, Joel, also served our country and  though not military, nevertheless  has retired from the CIA after 20 years, and who is now employed in private business.

.....Yesterday, I received a comment on the April 18th blog from a surprised but very welcomed though rare source--Peter Kehrig, a student of mine way back when, and since I don't want anyone to miss it, I decided to reprint parts of it here:

Doc, congratulations to the Ross clan for continuing the proud lineage of military service. There is also the possibilty or probability of overlap between the military and the creative arts. Our son in law served and our son continues to serve in the USMC. Although I work for the Air Force at Quantico, I'm happy to be surrounded by the Corps. Except at the gymnasium...I'm confident that you'll help bring out the best in each of the thespians in the ensemble, even though they may fall short of the high (and alas the low) standards you may expect. 
Peace and best of health to you and RH+ Pete Kehrig 

.....In Peter's last sentence he is referring to the Theatre Arts class whose wannabe thespian readings and performances left something to be desired, so I took a few weeks off in order to gather myself together from the ordeal.  Yesterday, I returned because a couple of the people asked that I come back and help them with their work.  Stan Amster who is running the class asked if I would come and help him with directing the skits that are being rehearsed for next fall's "Showtime".  We'll help the people to do the best that they can.  I realize that they are not professionals, but that should not stop them from doing the best that they are capable of doing.

"No hungry generations tread thee down." (Keats)

.....I have decided it is time for me to return to the Theatre of the Arts class and suffer listening to the most disagreeable attempts at acting that my eyes and ears can endure.  The class is held on Thursdays and that is the day that RH+ goes bowling--and nothing can interfere with an activity which she relishes.  It's not that she bowls by herself; she is on a team composed of our community residents, and the competition between teams in this bowling league is fierce, to say the least.  These bowlers are rather, shall we say, past their prime?  Some are even pretty good at this game  I don't consider bowling to be an athletic activity--like ping-pong does not require athletes; nor does shuffleboard or horseshoes.  Anyway, I do have a need to get out of the house once in a while, and so this "acting" class is another non-athletic activity that a guy my age with physical difficulties can participate in by just sitting down in the class and soaking in the experience.  That is sufficient exercise for me; if I feel like more, I just lie down until the feeling passes.

.....This blog happens to be another nonathletic activity, and I've written 403 of them, so now I am trying to write a sci-fi novel to do something different.  I was curious to know what the oldest American novel was, and who might be the oldest novelist.  Couldn't be much older than I. The oldest novel known in America, by consensus is "The Power of Sympathy" authored by William Hill Brown in 1789.  It depicts the tragic love story between siblings who were unaware they were related.  This epistolary novel belongs to the tradition of affairs carried out by the means of letters.  Unfortunately, Brown died at the age of 28.  The oldest novelist in America was John Sanford, born Julian Lawrence Shapiro. Julian Shapiro was born in Harlem to a first generation American mother and a Russian immigrant father who was a lawyer.  Both were Jewish.  His mother died in 1914 when he was only 10.  It marked his life.  Both he and his wife, Marguerite were members of the Communist Party, and when they refused to testify before the House Un-American Activities Committee they were blacklisted in Hollywood (where they wrote screenplays) for nearly a decade.  Shapiro wrote 26 books, half of them after he was 80.  He died when he was 98 leaving three unfinished books.  I guess I'll have to be the second oldest Jewish American novelist.

.....I was informed today by JR that my sister's granddaughter (my niece) has joined the US Marine Corps and my nephew is about to join the Air Force. With my Navy granddaughter, JR, writes, 33% of the Ross/Auslander next generation will be in the armed forces.  Oddly enough, he says, 44% are in the creative arts fields, although I don't know why that's "odd".

"Let there be gall enough in thy ink" (12th Night)

.....I have been working on my Great American Unknown Novel by the Famous Unknown Author.  It's hard to be working on that and also writing blogs.  But I do not want to disappoint my loyal readers who are peeking into our lives here through this blog which dates back to 2007!  I can't believe I've been working on this for five years.  I was a young 82 when I started.  I can't even remember why or how I started.  No matter, I have published 11 books of this blog for posterity if posterity cares to read them.  I have, myself, been reading the first one, "Paternoster in Condoland" when I go to bed and have nothing else to read.  Now I have only 402 to go. It's amazing, I suppose, that I find the book quite interesting, especially with the comments by which my readers have been immortalized.   As I am reading about forgotten events back then it feels as though someone else wrote the blogs.  Someone who has violated the copyright, and whom I might have to sue.  But I'm really not one for litigation against myself.

.....Rh+ and I have had colds for the last few days, so she will be Rh-  until we get better.  We both went to our MD yesterday and he pilled both of us up.  So now I have to deal with a few more meds; I'm going to have to buy more bottles of water in order to get them all down my throat.  I am certain that this is the first cold I've had since I set up camp here.  I don't usually get a cold, but my record has been broken.  We both agreed that Rho had the worst of it, but after the exam yesterday, the doc said I had the worst.  What a delightful surprise.  Now, I can complain about it and moan and whine all day long.  We are hoping that we will be well enough to travel to Tallahassee at the end of the month.  Since we cannot go to Montana, we do owe Robin a visit.  She's been here several times.  Not for long; but she's been here.  We have to go before she goes back to Montana.  Right now, Rho is at the supermarket buying  food for the house.  I've been existing on Eggos & bacon almost every day, and I need something else.  I don't know what; I don't eat cereal, and making eggs with a cane is no easy task.  

.....Nothing else to say at the moment.  Perhaps it will change after Obama and whatizname get to face each other in their election debates and their fierce TV commercials throwing darts at each other.  Meanwhile, Obama has done  as much as he could with the opposition against him.  The economy is slowly getting better, he has passed a universal health care bill so that all the people in America can get better care,  but the right wing loaded Supreme Court will likely throw it out, he has bailed out the auto industry here, and he has gotten rid of Bin Laden--a payoff for 9/11.  Now can I get back to my sickly science fiction novel?  

     "Tenet insanabile multos scribendi cacoethes et aegro in corde senescit"  Many suffer from the incurable disease of writing, and it becomes chronic in their sick minds--(Juvenal)

"I am not bound to please thee with my answer" (Shakespeare)

.....I have received a couple of comments and a couple of emails anent my discussion about the coming great grandboy in my blog yesterday.  I will share them with any who read this blog.  You may have to read them from the bottom to the top.


....I hate to disappoint you, but I was not a "preemie".  Jon was a preemie.  A preemie is a baby who is born before the mother's time and who needs to be watched carefully in a medical facility.  It's a synonym for "prematurely".  It has nothing to do with when the parents are married.  True, your grandparents were married only four months before I was born, but just goes to show you how far ahead of their time they were!

The Original Ross

---

...although I believe they do have significant others.  I just tend to be somewhat old fashioned thinking that you have to marry before you procreate.  But evidently the generations that followed mine have not gone for that nonsense. ...  (quoted from my blog)

From Robin:

And this is why you are a preemie ??   haha    Houston will be a preemie too - like his great grandpa - and like his great grandpa, he's likely to be a REDHEAD!   OY.

And now for Joel:

Joel has left a new comment on your post "On the seventh day God rested. His grandchildren ...": 

If it makes you feel any better, the father of Katrina's boy is also her fiancé. I believe the marriage is scheduled to occur before the birth. I think something like this happened over 88 years ago near Long Branch. So much for the old-fashioned way

.....It's true; my parents were married four months before I was born....and that was back in 1924 when Jewish girls were supposed to be "good".  I maintain that Joel's grandparents were not "bad" but way ahead of their time.  And, yes, Houston may be a redhead like the Baron--but that's only an indication that he will be graduating from an elite school like Yale or Harvard or Columbia or Cornell or even Oneonta.

.....(If there is more to be said, I will add it to this blog in the comment section)

On the seventh day God rested. His grandchildren must have been out of town. ~Gene Perret

.....Well, it's happening; something I never expected to experience.  And why did I never expect it?  Because none of my grandchildren is married, although I believe they do have significant others.  I just tend to be somewhat old fashioned thinking that you have to marry before you procreate.  But evidently the generations that followed mine have not gone for that nonsense.  And so, Katrina--Bobby's daughter who is in the US Navy--is pregnant.  I'm going to be a great grandpa to a little boy named "Houston".  I don't know if that will be the spelling.  I know it's a boy because Bobby sent me a copy of the sonogram--or whatever you call it.  It was a baby in there all right; except that I don't know how anyone could tell that it is a boy.  Now, I really feel like a patriarch.  I'm happy that we will have another member in the family, although his name will not be Ross and I doubt very much that I will ever  get to see him--except through Bobby's pictures.

.....Now after the excitement my readers have experienced in the first paragraph of this blog, I must change the subject since I don't know what else I can say about Katrina's pregnancy.  Except for the fact that one of my children is going to be a grandfather.  So, what does that make me?  Methuselah?  Well, this is Spring and "Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote the droght of March hath perced to the roote," it causes everything to grow and so there is "Houston".  As for me, I have to be blessed that during the month of April I have grown so well, that I have only one doctor's appointment this month.  Imagine that.  That's something else that I never expected to experience.  I'll have a lot of time to stay in the house and do something; I haven't decided what it is that I will do.  I have my car, and I can drive but where and when I don't know.  I'm using a cane now, but if I go to the mall, I will have to use the scooter, because I cannot walk more than 100 yds. with the cane.  RH+ and I are planning to pay Robin a visit at the end of this month, so we will have to use my '99 Malibu instead of her '08 one because I will probably have to bring the scooter, and the lift for it is installed on my car.  We will be in Tallahassee for two days and then come home or go on to a casino hotel in Biloxie.

"I am not a teacher: Only a fellow traveller of whom you asked the way." (George Bernard Shaw)

 APRIL 9 2012

"I am not a teacher: Only a fellow traveller of whom you asked the way." (George Bernard Shaw)

While rummaging through some old posts, I found this one from Feb. 8 2009. I was a young   man then; only 85. This blog is about a relationship I had with a wonderful student and athlete with whom I shared some wonderful moments as his track coach.  Bob Marsden is no longer with us having died of lung cancer last week at the age of 59.

 FEBRUARY 8, 2009

.....When I was coaching track and field at North Shore H.S. I had a young man on my team who ran the 100 and 220 yard dashes, and the last leg on our championship mile relay team. His father was my doctor, but that fact in no way affected the magic of my relationship with Bob Marsden, a champion in every possible way or arena. And recently we have been in touch through e-mails. After Bob graduated in 1968, I don't remember ever seeing him again. Among others, the following is one that gave me the most satisfaction as a former teacher and athletic coach, and also as a writer. Bob has been reading my "Memoirs of a Tail Gunner" and apparently has reached the description of my 80th Birthday celebration. However, it was not at my 80th Birthday that I received remembrances from former colleagues and students. It was at a Tribute party held in Glen Cove for me some time later that had been arranged by Debbie (Benson) French, a student I always adore.

Reading “Memoirs of a…Tailgunner” today and it is winding down…the 80th birthday celebration, February 27, 2004 which I was not able to attend due to (another) financial melt-down that was all too common in the Marsden-Randall household as we too, were winding down. I recall the event as Debbie (French) Benson (I think, daughter of Dr. French, our Principal) sent out letters of petition to those dear to Doc to please send in some accolades of remembrance. That I did and ironically, I think I just sent it out to you all. As I’m reading these tributes from colleagues of faculty…from “real” students who actually had the tracked-intelligence and privilege to be in Docs’ classes I had a fleeting moment of thought that perhaps I just might make the cut. And then, there it was. Quite an honor to be among the roll-call of those closest to Docs’ heart…to find that perhaps in one small way I am part of his legions in memory, and of merit lending worth to ones’ life. Damn…humbled am I Doc -

Speaking of being humbled, I simply cannot avoid that emotion myself in light of the fact that "Flash" (as I like to call him) can still remember the bond we established in several track seasons and that he still feels the way he does about his old mentor and coach. I have no shame in admitting that I relish these kinds of letters I receive from former students who now are in their 50s or 60s and who remember me as they do, and feel for me as they do. After all, as a perk to the kind of salaries teachers receive, there remains the satisfaction that somehow you have set a spark in the lives of your students. That's what teaching is all about. And that's the truth.

Son Joel sent me an e-mail today of three videos I never saw before. I must have been out to dinner or somewhere not in front of the TV set. They are attachments to youtube where you can watch the videos. I copied the links and I'll paste them here hoping you can succeed in accessing them!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yJ8M_Vglbw0

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fHbWyCBBkC4

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DvpMRMSUIGs

"A dollar won is twice as sweet as a dollar earned." (Proverb)

.....Ruthie Grimsley in a comment on yesterday's blog on gambling wanted to know how Native Americans can get such "a good " deal out of running casinos.  Might as well continue the theme of gambling then. Here's the answer then according to Wikipedea:

-In the early 1970s, Russell and Helen Bryan, a married Chippewa couple living in a mobile home on Indian lands in northern Minnesota, received a property tax bill from the local county, Itasca County. The Bryans had never received a property tax bill from the county before. Unwilling to pay it, they took the tax notice to local legal aid attorneys  who brought suit to challenge the tax in the state courts. The Bryans lost their case in the state district court, and they lost again on appeal in a unanimous decision by The Minnesota Supreme Court. They then sought review in the United States Supreme Court. The Supreme Court granted review, and in a sweeping and unanimous decision authored by Justice Brennan, the Supreme Court held not only that states do not have authority to tax Indians on Indian reservations, but that they also lack the authority to regulate Indian activities by Indians on Indian reservations. As Gaming Law Professor Kevin K. Washburn has explained, the stage was now set for Indian gaming. Within a few short years, enterprising Indians and tribes began to operate Indian bingo operations in numerous different locations around the United States.  

Foxwood Casino

....Now since states cannot regulate activities on Indian land, casinos popped up on reservations all over the country including those of the Seminoles' in Florida. The Foxwoods Resort Casino opened in 1992 in Ledyard, Connecticut. Operated by  Mashantucket Pequot Tribe and earning $1.5 billion. It is more profitable than any one casino in Las Vegas or Atlantic City.With 7,200 slot machines and 380 table games, making the 314,000-square-foot  Foxwoods Casino the largest casino in the USA and second largest in the world (after the Venetian Macao).  Connecticut also harbors the second largest casino in the United States--the Mohegan Sun Resort and Casino run by the Mohegan tribe.   

.....Now, I hope that we have all learned something.  If you want to play slot machines, Connecticut is the place to go.  It's location is superb for the Native Americans' billion dollar business--between New York and Boston.  You can spend several days there, of course.  Not only does it harbor a casino, but it is also a hotel resort offering elite rooms for the discriminating guests.

"In a bet, there is a fool and a thief" (Proverb)

.....There are many ways to gamble in life.  I learned to gamble in WWII, which in itself was a huge gamble.  I began to play poker in our quonset hut when we weren't on duty.  I became very good at it, somehow being able to read opponents' body language and eye movements.  Then after the war, while going to college, I went to a poolroom almost every day during the summer, and I began to gamble playing pool.  There was also a Western Union ticker in the poolroom giving the results, inning by inning, of baseball games, so I gambled on baseball games and won a lot more money that way then I did playing pool.  I'm reminded now of my role in "Music Man" produced here in Huntington Lakes when I had to learn the difficult monologue, "There's trouble in River City"...all about the evils of a new pool table in town.  I know now how evil gambling on pool is since I lost money at that six-pocket game.  According to Harold Hill--my role--billiards is the game to play because pool is "trouble".  The kids in knickerbockers spent all their time playing pool and neglecting to pick dandelions, or getting the screen door patched, or  getting the beefsteak pounded.  Never mind failing to get the cistern filled so that their parents could have water on a Saturday night.  And they also gambled on horse races where the jockey sat right on the horse!  Can you believe it?Most certainly there was trouble in River City.  

.....When I retired and set up camp in Florida and learned to use a computer I found several casinos on the web where I could send in some money that I could use betting on any kind of a ballgame.  I really was successful, but after awhile I found that I was spending all my time figuring out who was going to win and who was going to lose.  I eventually gave it all up in order to do other things--like work on my memoirs.  However, I learned that there were Las Vegas style casinos in Florida where you could play slot machines, blackjack, or my favorite card game--poker.  But--

                                  You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,

                                             Know when to walk away, know when to run.

                                           You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table,

                                           There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done.

....Thank you Mr. Rogers; you're so right.  Well, after I finish countin', I usually go to my favorite way of relaxing and play the slot machines.  This particular casino was owned and run by the Seminole Indians.  The machines are fun, and while they are swallowing up your money, they play sweet music.  Oh, well, since we stole the land from those Indians in order to build condominiums and swimming pools for grandchildren,  I suppose they deserve to get rich, and then wealthy--which they are. So, then, in my life I've found numerous opportunities to gamble, without becoming addicted...but the biggest gamble of all is life--if you're "sittin' at the table" in your own life, and learn to put enough money in the kitty, you can win.  If not, you lose.

                             

"Man is the artificer of his own happiness" (Thoreau)

.....For the past few days after several of my friends, students, and colleagues have died, I have been thinking about life’s real purpose.  At the very least, in my own mind, after the death of a loved one, there need follow a celebration of life and a continuance of the quest for happiness. Happiness is a state of mind and difficult to achieve, but the task must be pursued.  At this latter stage of my life, I don’t remember when or whether I was ever happy; but I believe I am happy now.  I know I was happy in the classroom both as a student and as a teacher.  But happiness eluded me when I was not engaged in some academic environment or in some sporting event, or being transported to magical places by a book or by my imagination.

…..But now, I know I am happy when I recall and relive the relevant events of my life; my survival of WWII, my college career, my teaching and coaching career, my performances on the stage, my running of two marathons; my travels around the world; the wounds of divorce; the writing of a book and publishing my memoirs;  raising a family; and as fortune would have it, a beautiful second marriage.  All of these things…and more, have been my goals and have lighted the darknesses of life. I have learned that if one is not happy, to find it, passiveness won't do it-- there must be lit a burning hot fire revealing the pathway to a primary human desire--peace of mind. 

"There hath passed away a glory from the Earth..." (Wordsworth)

.....I am feeling very well this year, but sadly, several of my colleagues, friends, and former students have passed away. During WWII, I saw more than enough of death and destruction, that I am loath even to talk about the subject; I am inured to it. During the 30 years that I was teaching and coaching, I never said anything about my experiences in WWII, and so lately many colleagues and students have learned about it--some from my book, "Memoirs of a Tailgunner", some from elsewhere...I don't know. But lately, death has once again, after these many years, come to invade my spirit. It has been several months since John "Moose" Reardon died. He was our athletic director and football coach for many years, and loved by everyone. When he retired Rhoda and I met John and his wife for dinner dates a couple of times. Just in the past few months, Sam Schiffer, Tom O'Connor, and Howard Wolfe have passed away. Sam and I spent many years coaching soccer together; Howard and Marge were here for dinner only about a month ago, and his death so soon after that was a stunner--but no more so than the passing of Bob Marsden yesterday.  Bob was a fine athlete and he was going to play baseball until I told him that he could win lots of medals if he joined my track team and ran in the sprint events because of his speed. 

.....The thought of winning medals appealed to Bob, and it came to pass over a couple of years that he did win many medals running the 100 and 220 yd. dashes.  I called him "Flash".  Bob and I became very close as an athlete and a coach often relate in that way. I loved Bob as a son, and he reciprocated that love. The height of his career came one year as he ran in the mile relay with three of his fellow athletes at the Millrose Games in Madison Square Garden. This became possible when that relay team won the Nassau County Championship on Long Island. But he is no longer with us. He will not be forgotten...and neither will the rest of that team, Bill Sherwood, Barry Meyer, and Chuck Hendrickson...the Four Horsemen! Bob Marsden never stopped smiling. He was a star athlete and a star person; I mourn for him. He shall be missed.