What would you do if...

While sitting here reading, a thought crossed my mind:

People should start careers when they reach age 50, not when they are barely into their 20's.

After military service in the Navy, I had a somewhat successful career in professional aviation. I was a flight instructor, helicopter and airplane pilot, small air cargo business owner, airline pilot, and I ended with an almost-30 year career with the U.S. Federal Aviation Administration as an aviation safety inspector and manager. That career, while enabling me to be fairly comfortably retired, is not one I look back on with pride and a sense of accomplishment, beyond the financial success I have in retirement. What I would have done instead pops into my mind often, probably as a result of regret.

Flying, enforcing, and writing aviation regulations was never what I dreamt of for a living when I was a kid. In fact, that career path started somewhat by chance, almost by mistake. I was in the first few days of the Duke University physician assistant program, to which I was accepted on my very first try - an unusual accomplishment, I learned later - when a representative from the Bursar Office came into class to tell me there was "a small issue" with my enrollment. It turned out the student loan I had planned on was not enough to pay the full amount due and I had no other source of money. Consequently, I was removed from the program.

That was a very serious disappointment for me. Becoming a PA and graduating from the first and probably the best PA program in the country was something I had longed to do for most of my adult life. I focused my undergrad studies specifically toward Duke. I asked for and received glowing recommendations from college professors and from my best friend, a practicing physician. I never wanted to go to medical school; I did not need the science or liability of being a medical doctor. I wanted the practical skills of being able to be the best technician in the room when a patient needing care walked in.

Not being able to fulfill my healthcare dream caused me no end of angst. Even now, 35 years later, I am still upset by it. I was now stuck with the requirement to support a growing family somehow, but I had no prospects, no answer to the "What now?" question that plagued my mind.

Fortunately, in the early 1980's, aviation was growing stronger. There were opportunities to be explored and I had all the required credentials: valid medical, flight instructor and pilot certificates. I was young and attractive to potential employers. I had no trouble finding jobs to pay the bills so I could watch my kids grow up...albeit from afar because I was often away from home on some trip flying a rich businessman or a plane full of passengers or cargo around the country. In fact, it was one of those experiences that took me out of aviation in the first place

Being a professional pilot was lucrative but not fulfilling. I longed to be in that Duke University PA program chair, cramming anatomy, physiology, and pharmacological reactions into my brain. I wanted to be a remote medical provider in the Bush of Alaska, but I would never be able to.

And that brings me to the purpose of this essay. What would you do if you could do anything? No restrictions, no family, financial, or logical considerations. Finances would not be an issue nor would acceptance to a training program if required.

What would you do now, as a post-20 Something, with the knowledge and experience you have about you did or wanted to do?

For me, there are two answers. One would be to get back into Duke's PA program and fulfill the dream of being a remote medical provider in the Alaskan Bush. I have had an interest in medicine since I was a pre-teen in Jordan and watched several surgical operations, worked as a pharmacy tech, processed patients in the out-patient department (in Arabic, I might add), and even scrubbed in to help the scrub nurses during the first open-chest operation ever performed in Amman by a Harvard Medical School-trained Lebanese surgeon.

The second career I would choose based on my knowledge and experience on this side of retirement would be music.

I wanted to be a professional studio drummer from high school. I envisioned myself graduating from the Berklee School of Music in Boston and becoming a first-call session drummer. That never happened, of course. I applied and was accepted, but that is as far as it went, for a couple reasons. Instead, one day on the way home from my college training as an accountant (also something I never dreamt of as doing for a living) I joined the Navy. That changed my life's trajectory, but going to Berklee remains a dream. I think about it from time to time and wonder, "What if..."

Humans gain much with age. We often sit on this side of retirement and ponder our regrets. Some of us get so wrapped up in that regret that we do stupid and/or unwise things. I did not, but I do as "What would I have done it...?" often enough to warrant writing it down. We probably do not have that insight until we pass 50 and are well into our "chosen" career, even if it is not what we would have chosen for the Younger Me. So now that you are no longer a 20 Something with career choices ahead of you, put yourself into that perfectly delicious and totally unrealistic position and, much like wondering what you would do if you won the lottery, ask yourself: 

What would you do if...? 

Indeed.

How bunk beds make a man crazy

One of the major questions weighing heavily on my mind relates to bunk beds. Yes, those ubiquitous sleeping items found in many homes with young children and which, sometime, must be dealt with. Kids age out of them and they take up space. Thinking about the bunk beds in my own house makes me crazy. And I wonder...

What do I do with the bunk beds I have had since my now-adult children were much younger and all three of them slept in the same unisex bedroom, two girls on the bottom larger bunk and a son in the smaller twin upper bunk?

They are no longer small enough to sleep on them and their own children, my grandchildren, are the last to have used them... recently...but they are aging much too fast and soon be out of the unisex bedroom stage and will need rooms of their own when they visit.

Now, I am a saver of mementos, often to the consternation of my adult children; they think I save too much for too long, but honestly, that is one of the definite impossibilities in life! The thought of giving them away or selling them is a very difficult concept to imagine. 

I know the day is coming when I will have to ponder it for real, but maybe just another week or a year or twelve...?

Two random, disjointed, unrelated thoughts

I am taking a break from near-continuous genealogy to write my thoughts.

1. I very much like sleeping with the sounds of real rain falling outside my open bedroom windows and the controlled sound of thunderstorms coming from my Alexa Echo device inside on my nightstand.
2. The warmth from the gel heating pad I feel on my aching left knee is soothing and wonderful. The after-effects will last about an hour; then the pain will return.

What do I do in retirement?

I read an online question on social media today that triggered a thought. The writer, a young person really not even in the so-called "working world" asked someone else (not me), "What do you do in retirement? I mean, you've worked so long and now, nothing!"

So, what do I do in retirement?

Definitely not 'nothing.' In fact, avoiding that was originally part of my pre-retirement consideration. Too many people I knew approached retirement as "quitting their job," not as "starting a new chapter in life," as I did. Many of them died soon after stopping work and I have to believe there is a connection.

Much of what I do is read. Right now, in fact, here is the list of current books I am reading:

• Loose Lips, Claire Berlinski (again; I have read this several times and enjoy it);
• Roads to Quoz, William Least Heat-Moon, my favorite author;
• Celestial Mechanics, William Least Heat-Moon;
• River Horse, William Least Heat-Moon;
• Research Like a Pro - A Genealogical Guide, Diana Elder, AG;
• Mrs. Sherlock Holmes: The True Story of New York City's Greatest Female Detective and the 1917 Missing Girl Case That Captivated a Nation, Brad Ricca;
• AWOL On the Appalachian Trail, David Miller

I read a few pages of this or many pages of that. Interspersed, I might read some Baha'i Writings or even something online. I do not watch much television, though I have been a Netflix subscriber since I lived in Alaska and the movies came in the mail in red sleeves.

I chat with my daughters, play online checkers with my grandson, and listen to a whole lot of music streaming on one of my two Alexa Echos. And I work on my genealogy and write.

Retirement can be fun as long as one plans ahead. I did and I am reaping the benefits of that planning

July 21, 2018: Musings

Today is Saturday. After weeks of completely dry weather, today I have rain here in Western Michigan. The dormant brown stuff outside will most likely begin to return to the familiar green that fills our neighborhood and amazingly, the source of the water in my basement bedroom appears not to be groundwater since there is nothing on the cement floor. That, of course, is a blessing of mixed quality. I wish I could narrow the source down - there is no 'active leak,' according to the American Leak Company technician who used fancy, expensive equipment and an hour of his time to make a report to the insurance company - and if the water is not coming from outside, what is its source? There has to be one.

Today also feels like a vacation day. My daughter and grandkids left a week ago Friday and I have spent the past few days doing two things: working almost-nonstop on my family tree, trying to determine if I have ancestors that were hanged during the Salem Witches Trials of 1692 and rearranging my master bedroom to replace the huge, heavy, cumbersome queen bed with a much more manageable queen bed and frame. The heavier one is in the basement, where it will replace an inexpensive setup I have down there. Okay, let me just call it what it really is...cheap, in both price and quality. Doing those two things have almost completely drained my energy and with the rain falling for the past 24 hours or so, it feels good just to sit and do nothing but read and type some words.

I am also pondering a major decision, about which I will most likely have more later. For now, though, more reading and resting!

Salem Witch Trials - Did I have ancestors there?

I have just discovered, though I have NOT YET VERIFIED that *possibly* at two of my ancestors were hanged in Salem, Massachusetts, during the infamous Salem Witch Trials of 1692:

Hanged on June 10 - Bridget Bishop, Salem Town
Hanged on August 19 - John Proctor, Salem Village

(Note: Salem Town and Salem Village were political designations of two areas with differing opinions about life. This difference was one of the causes of the fear and animosity that gave rise to the Witch Trials.)

Many of the details so far match pretty well, but I have a lot of work to do before I know if these two are, indeed, my ancestors. I want to be sure; messing with this kind of fame is not something done lightly. There are many women named 'Bridget' and many men named 'John Proctor' in that time and in my own tree.






For a guy who used to think his entire ancestry was from England, Scotland, and Ireland, this amazes me. But this was a terrible time in our very young country; I have to figure out how I feel about this.

I wrote this in 2012

As I write this in 2018, some of this happened, some did not, and we are two presidential elections beyond the point when I wrote this, with a very different, perhaps totally unexpected, definitely unpleasant political and national 'health' condition, one with which we are all quite familiar. I have only edited one short part of a paragraph (because it was based on an assumption of mine that did not happen) but the thoughts that remain are valid. So, read on.

November 5, 2012
To the young people on my Facebook timeline:

You are the generation that hold the reins of this horse we call the United States. Some of you feel hurt, frustrated, and lost by the recent presidential election. Some of you will continue to wonder if any of it means anything, whether your vote really does count. Well, like riding a horse, learning your part of the process takes time, energy, and the willingness to get back on after being hurt a bit. One of my daughters broke her collarbone while learning to ride when her horse spooked. Some of our elected officials will and have 'spooked' causing pain to their constituents. But like anyone who fell off a horse and had to decide whether to get back on or not, you each have the choice whether to continue or not. I hope you do and here's why.

By the next presidential election in 2016, one that will not have an incumbent, the current batch of white males that constitute a huge block of voters and those serving in elected positions will be smaller. OWG's, Old White Guys like me, will be replaced by younger candidates, many of whom will be non-Caucasian; there will be more African-Americans, more Asians, and significantly more Latinos. There will be - and should be - many more women. The candidates will have names like Chu, Christie, Baldwin, Mohammed, Rubio, Fattah, and Jindal. There will be more acceptance of lesbian, gay and bisexual candidates, as well as less stigma placed on mixed-race candidates or race of any kind, as there already is in your own lives. You will agree with some and disagree with others, and there will be extremists on both sides of the spectrum - politician and religious - but they will come from your generation and have your values and thought patterns. They will understand Twitter, have a Facebook timeline, and know what an emoticon is. Their view of the deficit and the true purpose of government will differ from what your parents' politicians were.

You will understand them because they are you.

The country's demographics are changing. My generation is getting out of the public face, aging, and dying. By the next presidential election, for example, many people you hear about in the news will have passed on. I will be on Medicare and probably on long-term prescription drugs of some kind for my ailments or diseases. My children will be nearing the dreaded 30-Something era and have children; some of those children will be old enough to begin understanding what "election" means for themselves and for their world. 

My 50-year history is past. Your 50-year history has just begun.

So, dear young people, please remember this: Even though you hurt like hell because you fell off, grab the reins and get back on that horse. They belong to you. Do not give up; it's the only way to learn to ride. Even though you might be frustrated by your recent voting experience, take solace in knowing that every presidential election will be like this. Some results will make you smile, some won't. But every vote is valuable and every election is important. You hold the reins. Don't give up.

Cook me, Daddy, step to the bar

I bought two items on Amazon.com today, a waffle maker and a toaster. First, let me tell you about the waffle maker.

The unit I have is a rotating Belgium waffle maker made in China by Oster. 'Rotating' means the unit turns after the batter has been put inside. Think hotel breakfast style waffles. A Belgian waffle is a thick waffle with much deeper holes than a conventional waffle; the person making the waffle can put things like fruit or chocolate chips in the batter more easily with less 'stickage' to the plates. A Belgian waffle maker is not really what I wanted since I don't add anything to the waffles except butter and syrup. Plus, I bought it when I first moved here a decade ago for probably less than $20. I do not use it very often, probably two or three times a year.

This morning, while making waffles with the top open to remove the finished round waffle, it tipped over, something it has never done before. Trying to right a tipped-over, hot waffle maker, while holding a finished waffle in one hand made me realize that, since it was getting old and starting to fight me and never really made the waffles I wanted, I decided it needed to go to Goodwill.

It was then I started considering the toaster, too.

I have owned the toaster for a very long time; in fact, it was made in the USA and you know how long ago anything was made in the USA, right? But the heating elements were going bad, so I was getting almost burnt-undone differences on my bread and that just is not okay. I like bread and I like toast; I want my toast to be properly toasted, a simple task at which my current Cuisinart unit was failing.

While checking around, I learned the only toasters made in the USA these days are $1,200 commercial toasters. I don't think I need that...but it would have been nice. There is a company (one person, really) in New York who refurbishes very old USA-made toasters and resells them...for prices starting at about $250-$300. One can buy a pretty good foreign-made toaster for that much.

My search then went to Amazon.com, my primary source for "things." It was there I found and bought a new waffle maker and a new toaster. After spending some time considering things like style and price, I made my choices and punched the keys to buy them.

The toaster has been replaced by a 2-slot new unit from Cuisinart, my favorite kitchen small appliance maker, and a new regular, square waffle maker from someone else...Cuisinart has a good unit for $85 and I just couldn't see spending that much. (Famous last words?)

I then spent the better part of two hours cleaning the two units. The waffle maker has a noticeable amount of oil residue and the toaster has cooked-on burn spots, so both of them went into the sink, into the water - I know what you are thinking, that one should not submerge an electrical unit in water, but that only applies if one plans on using it soon. I do not and I plan on letting them sit on their shelves for a week or more to dry out before shipping to Goodwill.

So my replacement kitchen appliances arrive Tuesday and I will check out the result. Hopefully, I will get better waffles and great toast. Perhaps the greatest, most beautiful toast anyone has ever seen.

Oh, wait. Those are someone else's words...

What's in a name? Who really cares? Well...me.

My favorite espresso drink is a 2-shot espresso with half-and-half. I prefer it with a couple pumps of coconut syrup, and was the only drink I had in Alaska; I always bought my coffee at a corner coffee stand, never, ever at that monster "S" corporation's very-few coffee stores in Anchorage. In fact, as I recall, back then, they only had one; their marketing department found no support, even though their home base, Seattle, is the closest "big city" to Alaska. Things might have changed, but they are still Corporate Coffee.

Alaskans drink a lot of coffee, and they like it done personally by an entrepreneur who rents a small space on the corner and whips up the delish all by him or herself, not by some well-trained corporate cog barista in a fancy, major bricks-and-mortar store.

But for the life of me, today I could not remember what it was called. So I made myself one, started sipping, and looked it up. I like knowing things. I like remembering things even more. So...

Café breve.

That is what it is called. Knowing its name does not change the cost of the drink I am sipping, but remembering the name? Priceless.

What this is and probably what this is not

Today is Thursday, June 21, 2018.

It is the day after the current occupant of the Oval Office has canceled his ill-advised, totally-inhumane policy of arresting "illegal" border crossers and remanding them to federal prison to await their hearing and eventual sentence for the federal "crime" of crossing a border without permission. At the same time, any non-adult - meaning children - were separated from their adults, sometimes forcefully, always without a hint of caring for their tender youth, and either stuck in a chain-link cage or shuttled off to some "foster home" near or very far, to await the outcome of their parent's legal battle.

There are so many horrors involved here and it is far too uncomfortable for me to relate any of them here; this is included in my blog merely as a future reference point. It might not be one of those "I remember where I was at that exact moment" moments, but I also sure this misery will be well-remembered for a long time.

Regurgitating unpleasant partisan political behavior is not what this is about, anyway. For a long time, I have used this blog as a one-way outlet for my desire to write. I wrote, not really caring if anyone read anything - though I do have a few regular readers. Thank you! - and continued merely to write. I also found myself doing much the same thing on my own Facebook account. I would write a few paragraphs on any topic of interest that popped into my brain and that needed to be released onto a "written" page somewhere. I realized I was 1) overusing Facebook, and 2) underusing this blog.

I questioned 'why?' and could not come up with any kind of answer, so I have changed my mind.

From now on, this blog will be the place I put those random thoughts that cry out to be written down, not Facebook. Even though I use the same laptop to write and the words will be the same, there seems to be a difference in my mind between that and this. And I like this better! I will not use it to complain or whine (well, maybe I will whine a bit) or carry on a conversation with myself. I will not use it for my genealogy study; I already have a blog for that.

I will use it to improve my own ability to write and communicate. Hopefully, that also means reading more to strengthen a point, since I do not want this just to be a blog about my own opinions. Anyway, any kind of writing, especially good writing, demands lots of reading.

If you, dear reader, have a comment, feel free to add it. Constructive criticism (I have been accused of rambling; do you sense any?) and reading suggestions are always welcome. And, of course, if you want to refer this blog to others that might be interested, I will never turn down that offer!

Then. Now. Not much changed

Two years ago, almost to the day, long before the chaotic reality in which we now find ourselves was evident, I wrote these words:

How does one detach from the negatives in this life? Lord knows we are tested and given many opportunities, but what about the next step? What does 'success' at detachment look like? I do not know.

I still do not have answers. I have even less insight. I still have the questions.

Moving on

As I sit here writing, I think about things in my own past and how they relate to my present.

A daughter and her career-Army husband have relocated from a wonderful house and home in Severna Park, Maryland, for a new duty assignment in Fort Knox, Kentucky. Visiting them is more challenging because there are no direct flights between where I live and where she lives, even though the two places are physically closer.

One of my younger brothers has lived in Columbia, Maryland, for the past 27 years. I have only seen him once, on my last visit to my daughter. Columbia is an easy 30-minute drive from Severna Park. Why did I not visit him more often in the past three years that I have visited my daughter and grandchildren?

My beloved younger sister apparently remarried many years ago and lives near Charlotte, North Carolina. Why am I not in touch with her?

I do not know where my youngest brother is or even if he is alive. I am, however, in touch with his children on Facebook. Why does that even happen?

It is all about music

As the news gets worse and worse - and it truly does - I have two places of refuge...the written word (in paper form, not on a device) and music.

The tune can transport me instantly to another time and place. Lyrics can touch that place deep in my soul that seems to have been shut off from the world because of the aforementioned bad news. So...

...don't try to change her, just leave it.
Get out quick 'cuz seeing is believing.
It's the only way you'll ever know...

...don't try to change her. Just leave it. Just leave it.

Good advice from lyrics.

Welcome back...I hope!

It has been a year since I posted an entry to this blog. What I was doing is not relevant to my genealogical search, but it did take me away from it. I am now back and hope to rekindle the readers I have. Let's get started.

Here is what excites me about #genealogy and working on my family tree.

As you might recall from earlier posts, I knew very little about my grandparents' emigration into this country in the early 1920's and some of what I thought I "knew" turned out to be completely wrong. For example, I always thought my maternal grandfather, JOHN FRANCIS BURKE, was an Irish immigrant who was married to my maternal grandmother, NINA THOMPSON BURKE, an immigrant from Scotland.

I do not remember why I thought that, but oh, how wrong that memory is.

My Grampy John was a born-and-raised U.S. citizen from New Hampshire with a New England lineage going back two generations, so far. Likewise, my Nana was not from Scotland at all; I have no idea how that "knowledge" came to me, but it was as wrong as it could have been. She was born and raised in Quebec, Canada, and her lineage is Canadian going back a couple of generations, too. Those misunderstandings kind of confused me and misdirected my attention a bit; instead of focusing on one person at a time, I started skipping around trying to make sense of things. For people who are beginning to work on their own family tree, that is an inefficient way to operate and might populate your tree with erroneous information because you skipped something.

So I reoriented my thoughts and actions and began looking at one person or family unit (husband and wife, for example) at a time. Doing so has been productive for me. I also expanded my sources; I have been a long-time subscriber to the big genealogy site, Ancestry.com, but doing so has limited me in some ways. Recently, I reactivated a 'free' membership to Family Search, another large genealogy repository based in Salt Lake City, Utah. It is associated with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (LDS) and has given me some data points, including documents, that I did not have from Ancestry.com.

While I was looking for birth documents from my maternal great-grandmother - finding birth certificates has been Challenge #1 for me - I discovered something I had not found on Ancestry.com. (By the way, as I mentioned above, the maternal side of my family hails from the United States, so finding information about them is much easier.) A quick trip to the Family Search data immediately pointed to a birth certificate for my Great-gramma Burke, BERTHA JULIA RAYMOND, who I knew as an 8-year old boy before father and my family left the United States for his original posting in Jordan. (I never saw her alive again until we returned for the only burial I have ever attended...hers.)

The birth certificate I found was not hers; I am still searching for that. It was for a stillborn baby boy she had on August 12, 1905, in Wilton, New Hampshire. But that is not even the 'ah hah!' moment for me - stillborn children were very common in the early 1900's in a very small town in rural New Hampshire. The eye-opener was the entry on the line marked "No. of children, 1st, 2d, 3d..."

8th. Yes, eighth.

My great-grandmother had at least 8 children. Up to this point, I know of only four (now five) ancestors ... my grandfather and three of his brothers plus the one stillborn boy. Who and where are the other three? The only relatives I have identified are males; did my great-grandmother give birth to any girls? Where did this stillborn baby boy fall in the lineage? Are there more than eight? Large families are common in my past - my maternal lineage is Roman Catholic.

I now have other questions to answer in the search for branches and leaves on my family tree! As I have said before, finding these exciting clues to previously unknown people is what makes my climb up my family tree so exciting and rewarding.