Never Park In Front of A Lighthouse: A Father’s Lesson

Beavertail Lighthouse*, Jamestown, Rhode Island (USA)

Footnote: as background for this story, I read this year that the US government was removing this lighthouse from its inventory. People can bid for it. a nonprofit likely will get preference. Now, let your imagination take over and enjoy this personal story…

Jamestown Island, Rhode Island was a favorite destination for our weekend fishing getaways. Dad and I and a friend of mine would pack our Chevy station wagon with sleeping bags, cooking gear and tackle for an outdoor excursion that every fishing enthusiast would love, especially kids. I was a lucky son. And Friday was our getaway day.

The boxlike wagon held everything in an orderly fashion. This precursor of the minivan/SUV, our Chevy allowed the back seat to be folded down, creating a spacious interior that accommodated a wood frame built to hold a platform as long and wide as the open space. This was our weekend ‘home’.

My dad and friend, both big bodies, slept on top while I squeezed my lanky adolescent body underneath, pressed against our supplies and equipment that filled the space next to me. Any overflow gear was stored in our trailered boat. Sleeping on one’s back was the best option due to space limitations. The flatter we could be, the better.

While driving to Jamestown, I would lay belly down atop the platform bed, head resting on my crossed arms, looking straight out the windshield, not a safe nor secure position, for certain. A sudden stop and forward slide was problematic and any hotdogs I had carefully balanced spilled onto the front seat, condiments and all.

Jamestown, itself, was fascinating and mysterious with its variety of fish and other sea creatures: striped bass, blues, mackerels, flounder, tautog, conga eels, and blue crabs. We caught them all, or tried.

Stately homes lined the shoreline. A ghostly one, long since deserted, stood decaying among the offshore rocks. And two gigantic car ferries crisscrossed Narragansett Bay between Jamestown and Newport, adding to the seductive nature of the island.

The end of the island sloped downward into the Atlantic. ‘Beavertail’ described its outline perfectly. And standing post above the rocks, looking out at the wide open sea, was the historic Beavertail Light House with its far reaching beacon and mighty horn, alerting incoming ships of the dangerous promontory.

My dad was always teaching us with tidbits of information or observations to enrich our young minds, as dads often do. Sometimes, lessons came with real life examples thati left indelible marks in our memories, like paying attention to details. Missing or foolishly ignoring the warning sign on the lighthouse wall is one lesson I’ll never forget.

“DO NOT PARK IN FRONT OF LIGHTHOUSE HORN”

To this day, I still believe that he parked there for a purpose…

Lighthouse horns are LOUD!

Glad I wasn’t holding a frothy root beer🥤.

Steve (December 2021)

* They are landmarks: The Beavertail Lighthouse and the Watch Hill Lighthouse, both are in Rhode Island. Now, the U.S. Coast Guard is giving up ownership

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The Crossing Guard Chronicles: Extra Credit & Life’s Little Rewards

“Extra credit! I got extra credit!”

The red-tail hawk perched on the overhead traffic signal at my school crossing post had my rapt(or) attention, so I didn’t hear the initial shouts. And the glare of a low afternoon sun made it difficult to see her, at first. But when I did, it was plain to hear and see a very happy high schooler, eager to deliver some good news.

During the morning crossing, at the Curbside Classroom, in the minute the kids and I have together, I announced that today was Pearl Harbor Day. Now, for most middle schoolers, that drew blank stares. Some high schoolers had heard about it. So, how much ‘ancient history’ can you discuss in 60 seconds? Honestly, I’ve learned that it doesn’t have to be much.

Franklin Roosevelt, infamy, war…a minute, to get access to their memory bank and make a small deposit. Apparently, it worked with this student, hence, the happy announcement at the end of the day, this Pearl Harbor Day.

When called upon in class to offer today’s date, my Curbside Classroom ‘pupil’ gave more than just the date, December 7th. She confidently reminded her teacher and class the historical significance of this date.

I wasn’t in the class but learned that her teacher was ‘blown away’ and awarded her extra credit.

As a school crossing guard, or just as an adult tossing out bits of Life’s good ‘stuff’ to young folks, knowing that you’ve made a positive experience for them is a big personal reward. I couldn’t be happier for this student and it made me think a bit more about the importance of passing tidbits along to kids.

Sarah Caldwell was an American Opera conductor, who said, “Learn everything you can, anytime you can. There will always come a time when you will be grateful you did”.

And, William James, an American philosopher and psychologist, encouraged others to “act as if what you do makes a difference, it does”.

In my blog, “S’amusing”, I write about a myriad of Life stories. And within the blog, I have a series titled, ‘The Crossing Guard Chronicles’, which describes my experiences as a school crossing guard and my interaction with kids. We talk and talk and talk as I engage them with a potpourri of topics in our minute, or so, together. Questions, facts, brain teasers, poetry, music (yes, I’ll sing a tune), it’s a veritable salad bowl of topics to kickstart their day (and mine), generate some smiles and help create a positive frame of mind before they enter their ‘brick ‘n mortar’ buildings. And it works.

What a great way to start the day.

One more thing, that same week we talked about trees. I stumped them on ‘shoe trees’. I have to win, occasionally…

Steve Bottcher January 2021

Blog: srbottch.com. Instagram: @srbottch

Political Signs and ‘Teachable Moments’

note: this is a revision of a first attempt at expressing myself properly. My closing comments are not meant to be political. They are intended to address the tenor of political discourse. I welcome your comments, as well.

Another election season is in the books. I hark back to my first one, the 1956 reelection campaign of Dwight Eisenhower. Summer that year found me in Hampton Beach, New Hampshire, where sun, sand and salt water taffy were my highest priorities, not politics. I was 10.

Nevertheless, thanks to the miracle of television, I got exposed to politics with its bombastic politicians, intrusive reporters and zealous conventioneers. It was the quadrennial convention season and every ‘black and white’ TV up and down the narrow cottage lined streets was tuned to politics, or so it seemed.

One week, it was the Democratic convention nominating Illinois’ favorite son, Adlai Stevenson, followed by Eisenhower getting the nod at the Republican convention. Everyone ‘liked Ike’ and Adlai encouraged the electorate to ‘go all the way with Adlai’. Politics seemed fun then with its banners, balloons and bluster, even for a 10 year old watching on television.

That’s how I remember it, anyway. Eisenhower was popular, a famous WWII general. He was well liked and had a winning slogan, ‘I Like Ike’.

Subsequent elections produced new characters; life long politicians, a peanut farmer, an actor, more politicians, and a real estate mogul/reality TV star, all running to be the President of The United States, ‘leader of the free world’. And with each election came new slogans.

John Kennedy in 1960, ‘We Can Do Better’, and his opponent with ‘Nixon’s The One’. In ‘64, Lyndon ‘All The Way With LBJ’ Johnson painted his opponent, Barry Goldwater, as a fringe candidate with this slogan, ‘In Your Gut, You Know He’s Nuts’!

Ronald Reagan won in 1980 with ‘Make America Great, Again’. Sound familiar? Bill Clinton, effectively reminded voters, ‘It’s The Economy, Stupid’ and prevented GHW Bush from serving a second term.

For the most part, slogans and signs have been innocuous, sometimes mildly insulting, but usually more funny than harmful. And the signs that supporters planted in lawns or on street corners, passively urged passersby to vote a certain way.

Not so today. Now, signs have appeared with a message in BIG, BOLD letters suggesting to the public that the current President, and by extension, his supporters, are ‘haters’. Love Trumps HATE!

Politics aside, because I’m not political, I get the message, but not the medium. A lawn sign to protest hate by projecting hate, itself? Explain that one to today’s 10 year old.

There are good places to discuss the role ’hate’ plays in politics, and in life for that matter. I would suggest the home. Discuss it often, with the family, not on a lawn sign. Make it a ‘Teachable Moment’.

Steve (Dec 2020)

For everyone and anyone with just a passing interest or a passion for politics.

The Crossing Guard Chronicles: ‘Change Is The Only Constant’ *

* The credit for this quote goes to a Greek philosopher, Heraclitus, who lived around 500 BC. He believed that permanence does not exist, everything is in a state of ‘change’.

Heraclitus was right, I believe. ‘Change’ is a force that moves us to modify our behavior, to adapt. We really have no choice.

The novel Covid-19 is an example of ‘change’ and how we have adapted to new circumstances with new patterns of behavior: the wearing of masks, social distancing, acquiring enough toilet paper for a family of 7 when there are only 2 of us, hoarding.

Schools are adapting to stay on mission, educating our youth, with different methods of teaching: in person, on-line, or a combination of both, a hybrid. The objective is the same but the delivery is different. Educators have a history of adapting, changing to the circumstances, and that’s a good thing.

Heraclitus and his philosophy would have been a great topic for discussion at the ‘Curbside Classroom’, as I waited to cross students along a busy roadway. But a change in my plans precludes me from being a full time school crossing guard this year, bringing the ‘Classroom’ to a close.

There will be a new crossing guard and the kids will have to adapt to the ‘change’, a new personality. They will, kids are resilient, and it teaches them at an early age that learning to deal with ‘change’ in a positive way can be a confidence builder.

Again, I’ll be back as a substitute crossing guard, so, kids, give a shout out when you see me. You made being a school crossing guard a wonderful experience. Have a great school year.

Steve B. (Srbottch.Com)

September 2020

Music and The CoronaVirus

Could the Beatles have recorded the classic song, ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’, in today’s CoronaVirus world? Doubtful, fans would listen with a puzzled look.

What about ‘Satchmo’ Louis Armstrong, and his song, ‘What A Wonderful World’ with thé line, ‘I see friends shaking hands, saying how do you do’ Who’s shaking hands today?

The New Seekers would not have had a hit with ‘I’d Like To Teach The World To Sing’ without the lyric ‘I’d like to hold it in my arms and keep it company’. Maybe, in its place, they could sub, ‘I’d like to love it with all my heart and keep everyone six feet apart’? Nah, wouldn’t work.

Music is all about emoting feelings: hugging, kissing, being together, loving one another. Today, everyone can’t ‘get together and smile on their brother‘ as The Youngbloods encouraged us to do with their smash hit, ‘Get Together’, not with social distancing and masks.

This pandemic is affecting us in more ways than you might think.

The Drifters might have been okay with ‘Under the Boardwalk’, ‘on a blanket with their baby…’ especially with young followers generally flaunting the unofficial rules. They would have found these lyrics perfectly acceptable.

Just think how music would have to change because people’s habits are changing due to CoronaVirus. It remains to be seen if we return to old mores or actually change personal habits regarding closeness and social behavior.

As a career salesperson, shaking hands firmly was SOP. That’s changed. Elvis would have to remove the lyric, ‘take my hand’ from the beautiful ballad ‘I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You’.

Jay & The Americans could not have titled their big hit song, ‘Come A Little Bit Closer’, not in the age of Coronavirus. It would have raised some eyebrows, unless, of course, you were under the same boardwalk as The Drifters.

No, we’re in a unique time where SOP is upside down, PSAs constantly warning us about protecting humanity by keeping apart. We’re encouraged to wear masks to protect others from potentially harmful droplets and we learn to smile with our eyes.

On thé positive side, we don’t have to shave nor worry about brushing our teeth. Our faces our covered and we’re six feet apart, if you’re following protocol.

Come to think of it, even the Seven Dwarfs would be out of vogue singing ‘Whistle While You Work’.

Who’s working, anyway?

Steve (srbottch.com)

June 2020

To all those who enjoy music lyrics and find yourselves singing daily, even to yourself.

5, 4, 3 …’Weighing In’, In The Age of CoronaVirus

Life has its ups and downs, back and forths, give and takes, and, if we’re lucky, we just roll with the punches and things work out…..or get bigger.

Take waistlines, for instance. They start off small and stay that way for awhile, years, even. Then, one day you realize something has changed, you’ve ’rounded out’ in the middle, ‘widen’ in the posterior and ‘sagged’ a bit in the chest & abs. Six pack? Forgetaboutit!

The time has come for action to refine this one and only body and restore it to the sculptured look you once had, a temple. Hyperbole, maybe, but a wake-up call for sure.

So, you hit the gym and get to work, hard work, and it shows. Maybe you’re not quite the Adonis you once were but when you see yourself in the mirror, shirt off, and the scale has good numbers, then yes, total satisfaction. Your hard work is rewarded. It’s taken months, maybe years of sweat, soreness and sacrifice, but you did it. Give yourself an attaboy.

Then, almost overnight, the gym closes, the walking paths shut down, the heathy food flies off the shelf (along with toilet paper) and you’re sitting at home, in a daze, bloating on carbs and crackers and wondering what the hell just happened,

It’s the CoronaVirus curse and in no time at all, the ‘countdown’ starts, you’ve gone from the 5 hole on your belt to the 3 hole. You can feel the difference. And you know others can see it.

You want to get out and do something, something big, something that makes you shrink. A workout, that’s it. But you’re not a runner, not since a drill sergeant chased after you, barking all the way.

No, you’re a bit slower now, a little sedentary, accustomed to sitting around, thanks to CV. Besides, the ramped up cookie production in the convection oven needs tending, coffee needs brewing, the sofa needs fluffing.

The governor says, ‘Stay home!’ Such profundity! You like it. Besides, you’re in ‘that group’. Yes, the one everyone is worried about. So, you’re going nowhere, doing nothing and heading to the 1 hole, fast!

Hell, maybe you won’t even need a belt at this rate…

(Above courtesy of @markedman24 on Instagram)

Steve B

Srbottch.Com for more stories

To everyone who is anxious for the ‘lockdowns’ to end and we can get back to being ‘normal’.

Heroes Among Us..,

Someone asked me what I would most remember about this coronavirus time.

I’ll remember this, ‘the heroes among us’.

When this ‘virus thing’ is over and we return to normalcy, however we define it, each of us will have a story. It always happens during a cataclysmic event, and this Coronavirus is one. We remember what, where, when and other big picture events that will likely change in our memory with the slippage of time.

I’ll remember the ‘who’, angels from my neighborhood who were the ‘heroes among us’.

Crises, tragédies, disasters, whatever you call them, often bring out the best in people. Whether man-made or natural, seismic events will find people who rise to the occasion to do something positive. At all levels, heroes will be born.

First responders perform heroic acts in the public’s eye. Police officers, firefighter and soldiers come to mind. Sometimes, it’s ordinary people who happen to be in the ‘wrong place’ at the right time and their natural instinct to act results in an act of heroism. More often than not, a heroic act is spontaneous, a spur of the moment action.

In my neighborhood, and I’m sure in others, there is a cadre of volunteer shoppers, generally women, organized and managed by one individual who recognized that some of us older folks might need stand-ins on shopping day during the CoronaVirus ‘skirmish’.

Was she ever right!

There are other neighbors who have reached out to us on their own accord and whose services we’ve used to help keep our prescription and food shelves supplied.

These are ordinary people doing extraordinary deeds. stepping into an environment, stores, that may not be the healthiest place to be. But, they do it, to help.

As one neighbor succinctly expressed her feelings:

“I’m happy to help-truly helps me to get through this knowing I can do a little something for someone else”.

These are the ‘heroes among us’. They don’t wear uniforms. Don’t have capes or super powers, but they do wear masks, masks in the fight against Covid-19.

We, the people designated as vulnerable to the virus, are appreciative of this help. And we don’t need to ask, ‘who was that masked woman’, because we already know…

…they are ‘the heroes among us’!

That’s what I’ll remember!

Steve B

(Srbottch.Com for more stories)

To: Adrienne, Lisa, Shameer, Andrea, Dan. Eva, Elizabeth, Julie, Jennifer, Joshua et al who volunteer to ease your neighbors’ worries

May 2020

The Crossing Guard Chronicles: Oh, What We’ve Missed…

“Today, April 30, 1789, is a big day in American history. It happened in New York City and was the first of its kind. Do you know what it is?” *

This would have been today’s question at the Curbside Classroom. ‘Would have been’, because school has been shutdown, suspended, due to the Coronavirus.

April 19th, 1775 in colonial Lexington was another landmark day in American history, as was the prior day, April 18, that same year. The American poet with the long name, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, memorialized the 18th in his poem, ‘The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere’.

So many topics the kids and I are missing at the ‘Curbside Classroom’ because of our ‘furlough’ from school and my school crossing duties.

Sure, the daily history tidbits are interesting, but there’s so much more that we discuss, point out, quiz, laugh about in the minute we have while waiting to cross to the brick and mortar classrooms: beautiful sunrises, ducks in Buckland Creek behind us, planets lining up, and for the early crossers, the amazing ‘Morning Star’, Venus, as it visits us in late Spring, .

We try to cover it all, and then some: Word-of-the-Day, famous people, quotes, trivia, space, explorers, the mundane and the sublime. What is a Z-O-E-T-R-O-P-E and how do you pronounce it? Oh, the fun we’re missing, the dialogue, the learning and the laughter.

The end of the school year was in sight, then we were interrupted, sidelined, benched by the Coronavirus. There will still be an ending, but we won’t be at our customary stations to experience it.

I’ll miss reminding English students of Homer Simpson’s quote, “English, who needs it, I’m never going to England!” The math students will miss me mentioning Pythagoras and his equation, first thing in the morning.

And we all missed the 108th birthday celebration of the Oreo cookie. I had to eat them all, myself. Oh, my!

Greeting kids by name, asking about their day and future plans, especially Seniors. I miss that. Some are going on to college, others into the work force, while a few are heading to the military. I wish them all the best.

If I was to give a Curbside Classroom Commencement message to the graduating class, it would be this quote from Sarah Caldwell:

“Learn everything you can, anytime you can, from anyone you can…there will always come a time you’ll be grateful you did”.

Who was Sarah Caldwell? Well, I always try to leave something for personal research.

Yessiree, we missed a lot this Spring, but mostly I missed you, the kids.

Steve B (srbottch.com)

To all the kids in the TCMS and BHS, especially those who cross at the Curbside Classroom

* George Washington was sworn in as the first President of the United States

May 2020

2 x 6 x Fore: Golf In the Age Of COVID-19

To the uninitiated, golf looks like a crazy game. Walking around a field for a few hours hitting a small ball into a small hole does sound a bit nonsensical, maybe more so in the age of COVID-19, the CoronaVirus.

Just a few days ago, on an early morning walk, I noticed two gentlemen (twosome) playing this ‘crazy’ game. It was damp and chilly, normal for early April in western New York. A light fog hung in the air as they trudged along between shots, with their bag full of ‘sticks’ (clubs) slung comfortably over their shoulders. They appeared nonplussed by the conditions on the course and the concerns in their community, going about their play, bonded by a common interest and obvious love of the game of golf

Unlike politics, golf is not a ‘blood sport’. On the contrary, it’s a gentle game, played by gentlemen and gentle ladies and even youngsters learning the art of being gentle.

For those who love it, it’s almost a perfect game: you against a course that has withstood the challenge of thousands of other golfers over time, yet still stands, or lays, scuffed and scarred, maybe, but rarely beaten.

A course with its plush green grasses (fairways & greens) cut to different heights atop an earth that bends left or right (doglegs), or steers straight ahead, with dips and rolls, and hazards placed precisely, or randomly, to catch the tiniest of unforced, self inflicted errors, diminishing further, in all likelihood, an already bruised ego.

It’s a game with strange words: birdies, bogies and, my two favorites, mulligans and gimmies. The courses, literally manicured fields, where the game is played, have some of the most recognizable and romantic names in sports: Augusta, St. Andrews, Pebble Beach, Sawgrass and here in Rochester, New York, the classic Oak Hill.

Champion golfers compete for fabulous prize money almost on a weekly basis. They ply their trade in front of legions of spectators who march behind their heroes, cheering after well struck shots while practicing monk like muteness during swings. A personal oath of silence is golden on a golf course, yet a tiger-like roar can be heard across fairways when a star makes a great shot.

Amateur golfers of all skill levels display a level of enthusiasm unparalleled in other sports. A devotee finds something in the game as reason to return to play, again and again, even during a pandemic, apparently.

Case in point, the aforementioned twosome. Nothing was going to stop their game, today. Not the morning chill and dampness, not even the CoronaVirus.

However, to be fair, the two were keeping the proper social distancing of 6 feet minimum, and if they did have to approach other golfers, shouting a warning to beware would suffice…

“FOOORRRE!”

Steve (srbottch.com)

To golfers everywhere, come Hell or high water…even a pandemic virus!

The Mask

Warning: scary pictures included, view at your own risk!

The Lone Ranger had his mask, Zorro wore one. Batman and Robin did, as well. Even the monstrous Hannibal Lecter had a face covering, of sorts, not so much to hide his identity but more to protect his prey, other humans, from a nasty consumption habit.

Now, thanks to the wonders of modern medicine, I have a mask, one that’s a nighttime fixture on my face.

However, whereas the aforementioned fictional characters were crime fighters hiding their real persona, except for Hannibal, I’m just an ordinary man trying to get a good night’s sleep.

Recently, I was diagnosed with ‘sleep apnea’, the ‘temporary cessation of breathing’ (apnea), especially while sleeping. Strong emphasis on ‘temporary’.

Apparently, sleep apnea is a common problem among men and women and the appointment backlog at the local sleep clinic reflects it.

A recent sleep test showed my REM sleep was grossly inadequate, and the Rx for it was a CPAP device, the mask. And herein lies the problem. I’m sleeping better but the physiology of my face appears to be changing.

The symptoms are easily recognizable, fatigue, drowsiness, low energy, especially during times of idle moments. I’m a Senior and whatever idle moments I have left are not to be wasted on fatigue.

Prior to my diagnosis, I wore the customary marks of a maturing gentleman; small creases on my cheeks, slight baggies under the eyes, some redness, nothing too dramatic.

But, alas, now I’m getting furrows on the cheeks, puffiness under the eyes like a prizefighter, and redness like frostbite. What a mess! And it’s daunting to think that the Rx was written for life!

The data shows that the mask is working. So, I’ve accepted it, albeit begrudgingly, facial marks and all.

Odd thing about medical devices, while helpful on the one hand, they can add a whole new persona to one’s character. The massive bandages following shoulder surgery give one the appearance of the fictional ‘hunchback of Notre Dame’. A line of staples on a shaved head remind onlookers of the Frankenstein monster.

I’ve had them all and now, at night, with my mask, I’ve become the irascible Hannibal Lecter. My wife must sleep with one eye open. I wonder if she would mind if I took just a nibble? I wonder…