Remembering Karl

Whenever we lose someone close to us, it's natural to go through a period of grief. But as we mourn their death, it's really important that we remember to celebrate their life. Not only does it help to ease the pain, but it reminds us why that person was so important to us in the first place. The smiles, the laughs, the memories......these are the things that will keep that person alive in our hearts forever.

With that being said, I would like to share a few stories and some of my favorite memories of Karl....

I was first introduced to Karl many years ago when I was a teenager. I was best friends with his nephew (Rip) and I would occasionally see Karl at family gatherings. He was very friendly and always had a smile on his face. From the beginning, I felt very comfortable around him.

When I first started to date Tina, she lived at home with Karl and Evelyn. When I would make a phone call to their house, I never really knew what fun awaited me. You see, Karl would always be the one to answer the phone. After he greeted me, I would say, "H Karl, is Tina home?"

"I don't know. Let me check", he would say. And then, I would hear him walk down the hallway and yell, "TINA, ARE YOU HOME?"

In the distance, I would here a faint "yes" from Tina. And then after a few moments, Karl would pick the phone back up and say, "Yep, she's here." And then he would hang up on me. I'd call back and ask why he hung up on me. He would say, "You asked if Tina was here and I answered you. I thought we were done." Of course, this was just Karl being Karl.

Years later, after Tina and I got married, he would often stop by our house. I would sometimes come home from work on Friday to find Karl waiting for me on the back porch. Armed with a 12-pack of Coors Light, he would toss me a cold one and say, "What'd ya know, Shadrack?" (To this day, I still have no idea who Shadrack was.)

Karl and I would sit out there, exchanging stories until the sun went down. Our conversations were animated and lively with no shortage of laughter. I don't know, maybe it had something to do with the beer. But I think it had more to do with two people who genuinely enjoyed each others' company.

Karl could be quite adventurous at times. For instance, about 15 years ago, a bunch of us were hanging out by the pool at my house.  Well, we were all having a good time and when someone got the wise idea to start a diving "competition". Well, not to be outdone by any of us "youngsters", Karl approached the diving board with the confidence of a Gold Medal Olympian. Taking a couple of warm-up bounces for good measure, he finally catapulted off the spring board and flew into Glen Burnie sky. With the bright sun setting behind him, he looked like the Flight of Icarus. Personally, I thought it was quite moving. But Tina didn't think so. She came running out of the house just in time to see her father hit the water with a violent belly-flop.

With steam practically coming out of her ears, she yells, "Ken, what is wrong with you?! My dad is 65 years old!"

Thinking that we were in agreement, I nodded and said, "Yeah, I know, I'm impressed too!" (Not the response she was looking for..)

Karl would sometimes relax by listening to music. He really liked this French singer named Charles Aznavour. I had never heard of the guy. So, I was surprised to see one of his CD's while I was browsing at a local music store. Figuring it would be a nice gift, I bought the CD and gave it to Karl. He absolutely loved it. He immediately put it in his CD player and started to sing along. He knew every word! It made me happy to see him so happy.

Well, no good deed goes unpunished....

As Karl was busy belting out the lyrics to the next song, I hear Tina and Toni upstairs saying, "Oh my God, Not again! Make it stop!" Then, they inform me that, years ago,  Karl used to have a cassette tape of Charles Aznavour. He used to play it over and over to the point where it drove everyone in the house absolutely crazy. So, practicing some tough-love for the over-all good of the family, the sisters hid the cassette. For years, the house was Aznavour-free. And then I come along and kick the hornet's nest....

Along the same lines, Tina and Toni told me about how Karl used to dress up like Elvis and perform family concerts in their basement. He would turn his shirt collar up and drape towels around his neck as he made his way down the steps and into the "arena". He would wipe his brow with the towels and then give them to his "fans" for souvenirs.. The captive audience was treated to his one-of-a-kind renditions of "Burning Love" and other Elvis classics........... I can honestly say that I would have paid good money to see this.

Of course, Karl had occasional hobbies as well. One of the more interesting ones was when he decided to start raising bees. I have no idea what led him to this adventure but he was certainly gung- ho about it. He went out and bought a bunch of bee-keeper equipment including an official bee-keeper suit. It was the most ridiculous looking thing that I've ever seen. He looked like someone on the Haz-Mat team. Anyway, he tells me that he's got several bee hives that are full and he wants me help him "sling" the honey out of them. I had no idea what I was in for, but there was no way that I was gonna miss this. So, I met Karl over in his basement bar room where he had several wooden frames with honeycombs in the middle. He also had a large metal bucket with an attached handle on it. According to Karl, this was called a "slinger". The plan was to put the frames into slinger and turn the handle really fast so the honey would be "slung" out of the frame in into the metal bucket. It sounded simple enough. So, we touched our beer bottles together and (according to Karl) prepared to introduce the world to the KJ Honey Company.

As Karl started to crank the slinger handle, there didn't seem to be a whole lot of honey dropping into the bucket. So, quickly improvising Plan B, Karl decided that we should apply some heat to the honeycombs. He sends me upstairs to get a blow-dryer. I come back down and then Karl proceeds to heat things up with the hair-dryer. Well, it sure did the trick. Before long, the honey was flowing like the Niagara Falls. The faster the honey fell, the faster Karl cranked the handle. Soon, he was slinging it so fast, that honey was overshooting the bucket and splattering onto the walls, ceiling and anything else in it's path. I really hated the idea of shutting don the production line, but something had to be done.

Taking on heavy fire, I shielded my eyes and said, "Whoa, Karl! Slow down! You've got honey going all over the place!"

Frantically working the handle with sweat beading on his brow, he says, "Just stay back and let me work, Ken! I've got this!"

When it was all said and done, the room was an absolute mess. He had turned the place into a human fly-trap. You would stick to anything you touched. As I watched the honey drip off the ceiling,  I asked him how he planned on cleaning up all of this mess. He just said, "Don't worry. I'll take care it." ........I haven't been in that house for many years, but I'll bet that room is still sticky.

As many of you know, Karl's birthday is July 4th. So, during our annual Independence Day party, we would also take some time to celebrate his birthday. Well, one year John bought one of those gag scratch-off lottery tickets and gave it to Karl as part of his birthday gift. Instantly, Karl starts scratching away at the ticket and before long sees that he's a "$10,000 winner". He was absolutely ecstatic! Waving the ticket high above his head, he danced around the table with the grace of a drunken ballerina. Joining in on the celebration, John told him to turn the ticket over and find out where he could pick up his money. Karl squints his eyes to read the back of the ticket and says, "Wait a minute. It says to go to "Yo Momma's House" to claim your prize money. What the hell is this?"

Watching the emotional transition on Karl's face was priceless. Once reality set in and he realized he wasn't getting the $10,000, Karl responded with a barrage of profanities that would have made his old Navy buddies blush, He followed this up by shooting us the moon and affectionately telling us all to kiss his ass!

.................................................................................................................................................


I tell these stories because this is the Karl that I want all of you to remember. He was a fun-loving guy who was full of life. And while it was hard to ignore Karl's decline in recent years, it didn't change the person that we all knew and loved.

I'm going to remember the guy who used to wait for me on the back porch after work. I'm going to remember the guy with the big smile and bigger heart who always made me laugh.  And I'll never forget that guy who jumped up from his seat and cheered the loudest when the preacher pronounced Tina and I husband and wife.

In the end, what matters most is how many lives you touch. And Karl certainly touched mine. He wasn't just my father-in-law, he was my friend. Although he has now moved on, he will remain with us through the memories and endless stories that I'm sure we'll be re-telling for years to come. And that's exactly the way Karl would have wanted it......


kw

Terror In Orlando

As the people of Orlando are still trying to absorb the shock of Sunday's nightclub massacre, others are trying to figure out how and why these senseless things continue to happen. Perhaps the most intriguing thing in the aftermath is the way that it's being politicized. Let's take a look....

As expected, the anti-gun pundits seized another opportunity to scapegoat the weapons. Before the smoke even cleared, we were already hearing calls for stricter gun control laws. They love to blame the gun but somehow ignore the fact that it takes human intervention to fire it.

The shooter in this case, Omar Mateen was a Muslim who, during the nightclub melee, pledged his allegiance to ISIS via a 911 call. And it's also been reported that Mateen shouted "Allah Akbar" during the massacre. But for some reason, this is all being downplayed. We're told that it's simply a hate crime and an act of terrorism. While these are indeed valid descriptions, the part about the guy being a radical Islamist seems to get conveniently ignored.

To no one's surprise, Donald Trump doubled down on his call to delay entry to the US for any Muslim immigrants until they can be fully vetted. Of course, prominent Democrats, including the President and Hillary Clinton, somehow view this as just another "racist" rant by the Republican presidential hopeful. Whether you agree or disagree with Trump, the facts dictate that there is a serious problem when it comes to radical Islamists. There have been roughly 25,000 Islamic-fueled terrorist attacks around the world since 9/11. But somehow, we're expected to believe that it's not such a big problem in the US. Aside from the terrorist attack in Orlando, we've also seen recent attacks in San Bernardino, Chattanooga, Fort Hood and the Boston Marathon. And in case anyone forgot, we also had quite an incident in New York City back in 2001. But even after all of this, the harshest thing that the President can say about radical Islam is that it's a nothing more than a political talking point.

Earlier today, President Obama gave an address from the White House concerning the use of the term "radical Islam". In a condescending tone, he lashed out at those who feel that this is an appropriate label to put on recent terrorist attacks. While taking some obvious jabs at Donald Trump, the President's address came off looking like half lecture/half campaign speech. Perhaps even worse, he looked weak.

Setting all of this aside for a moment, we should all be equally outraged about what happened at the Pulse nightclub on Sunday morning. And while it's true that this was a gay nightclub, this wasn't simply an attack on gays. It was an attack on America. Islamic extremists frown on the freedoms that we enjoy in our country. And that's precisely what they're targeting. In the delusional world of these sadistic pricks, they treat women like than farm animals and homosexuals even worse. Do we really want to be "friends" with countries that advocate this kind of third-century bullshit? (By the way, I am certainly not grouping all Muslims into this category. But if you happen to believe that women have no rights or that gays deserve to be thrown off of rooftops, you are a sadistic prick.)

Speaking of sadistic pricks, let's talk a little about Omar Mateen....

We've learned that he was a 29-year-old US citizen born in New York to Afghan parents. He had been investigated in recent years by the FBI for possible links to terrorist organizations. Despite these suspicions, Mateen was employed by a Department of Homeland Security contractor for the past ten years. And just last week, Mateen legally purchased a Sig Sauer MCX (presumably the one used in the murders). From people who knew him (including his wife), we are told that he had an an issue with gay people. And now to make things even more confusing, it's being reported that Maheed himself may have been gay.

During the attack, Mateen made a 911 call and pledged his allegiance to ISIS. Hmm, that sure sounds like something an Islamic terrorist might do. But let's not tell anyone...

And speaking of not telling anyone, it's just been reported that Mateen's wife (Noor Salman) knew about his plans to shoot up the Orlando night club. And she did absolutely nothing. According to a source from Fox News, Salman will likely be arrested.

Not surprising, the FBI has come under some scrutiny for letting Mateen out of their sites. But I think that's a bit unfair. Although Mateen had made some inflammatory remarks and seemed like a real douchebag, he still hadn't committed any crimes. There wasn't a whole lot that the FBI could do under the circumstances. Interestingly enough, prior to the shooting, Hillary Clinton's State Department shut down an investigation of Mateen's mosque due to profiling concerns. Isn't political correctness just grand?

So, did this guy fly under the radar? Well, not really, After all, he was on the radar as recently as 2014. Should he have been permitted to work for a DHS contractor? Should he have been able to legally purchase guns? Without sacrificing some of our basic rights and freedoms, I don't think there's a clear answer here. It sucks that so many people have to die before we figure it out.

With all of this being said, my heart goes out to all of the families and friends of the Orlando victims. May they find the strength they need to get through this senseless tragedy.

kw

Nuggets of Laughter

This morning, I roll out of bed around 6:30. As my feet hit the floor, I give my eyes one last rub for good measure. Thoughts of coffee float through my mind as move out of the bedroom and into the hallway. I turn the corner and make my way towards the stairs when my bare foot comes down on something soft and gooey. Still half asleep, I tried to comprehend it as best I could.

And then a light bulb went off......it was a cat "nugget" that was left behind by one of Tina's cats!

Realizing what just happened, I felt the need to lift my foot so I could survey the damage. Sure enough, what looked like a flattened Tootsie Roll was stuck to the arch of my right foot. Impulsively, I let out barrage of profanity. Although the profanity was heartfelt and genuine, it also served as a wake-up call for Tina. I certainly wasn't going to go through this alone. Right on cue, I hear Tina rustling and then she asks, "What going on out there?"

Knowing that a picture is worth a thousand words, I decide to make my way back into the bedroom. Using only my heel to make contact with the floor, I hobble back into the bedroom. Almost falling over in the process, I lift my foot up as high as I can. Displaying the trophy in all it's glory, I reply to Tina by saying, "This is what's going on. See anything wrong with this picture?"

Instead of consoling me with compassion, Tina starts laughing. Actually, she starts laughing so hard that she almost falls out of the bed. Meanwhile, while she's enjoying the early morning comedy, I'm standing on one foot looking dazed and confused.

"Why is this so funny to you?", I ask.

Struggling to get her words out through the laughter, she says, "You crack me up!"

I try to explain that this is no laughing matter. But this only causes her to laugh even harder. While I'm glad that I can be the source of Saturday morning entertainment, it doesn't change the fact that I've got a cat turd stuck to the bottom of my foot. I limp over to the laundry room where I scrape the crap (literally) off my foot and into the litter box. Meanwhile, the cat's staring at me like I'm somehow crossing the line. Tina sees what's going on and then starts to practically hyperventilate. I just shake my head.

Welcome to my world, folks!

kw

The Old People of Walmart

Earlier today, I needed to pick up a few things from the store. Passing by a Walmart, I decided to take my chances. I figured it was fairly early and most of the regular Walmarians were probably still in bed or catching the last half of the Maury Povich show.

So, I walk into the store and was happy to discover that it wasn't crowded. I only had to pick up a few things, so I figured I could complete my shopping in about 10 minutes. However, there would be one huge obstacle that would add considerable time to my visit. That obstacle came in the form of old people.

I'm not kidding you, it was like all of the area nursing homes had planned a field trip at Wally World today. There were walkers and canes everywhere. And the motorized scooters were buzzing around the pharmacy like a geriatric version of The Jetsons. And to be fair, aside from the aid of a shopping cart, there were actually a few that were fit enough to independently maneuver themselves around the store. Of course, they would bump into a shelf and knock a few items onto the floor, but who's really keeping score?

As I head down a random aisle, I approach an old guy who's studying the label on a bottle of Metamucil. I reach the point where I'm going to pass him. It's then that he decides to turn his shopping cart around. I nearly hit him broadside as his cart is now perpendicular with the aisle. He works the cart into a 3-point turn, nearly running over my big toe. During the entire maneuver, the guy remains expressionless and doesn't make a sound. He eventually rights his ship and then slowly makes his way down and out of the aisle.

I quickly grab my items and then head down the next aisle to grab some toothpaste. There, I'm greeted by two robust women on Wal-scooters. They're having a casual conversation and don't seem to be in any hurry to get to point B. They seem oblivious to the fact they've got the entire aisle blocked. Getting a little annoyed, I push my cart in their direction. Although they clearly see me coming, neither of them makes an effort to move out the way. Childhood memories of bumper cars raced through my mind and I get a sudden urge to go get my own scooter. I could imagine the look on the old ladies' faces as I whipped around the corner with my scooter. Nearly tipping over from the inertia, I would balance my scooter on it's two left wheels before gravity allowed the right ones to recontact the floor. I would race towards the husky women with as much speed as the rechargeable battery would permit. As I crashed through their scooters, I would grab a box of Crest off the shelf with reckless precision. Yes!

Back to reality....

I approach the women and say, "Excuse me, ladies. Can I squeeze by you?"

I receive an acknowledgement in the form of a grunt as one of the women fires up her scooter and moves it a few feet closer to the shelves. Even though the scooter did most of the work, the woman appeared to have exerted a fair amount of energy. But nonetheless, it gave me just enough room to make it through.

Not wanting to deal with any more of this nonsense, I headed towards the checkout lines. I glanced down each open line to gauge the one with the shortest wait time. I finally found one with only one elderly couple in it. So, I pulled in behind them. They were loading their items up on the belt at a snail's pace. I almost offered to help them but I didn't want to insult them. So, I waited it out by examining the various varieties of beef jerky hanging on the wall. They even had turkey jerky. Who knew? Anyway, the old couple's items were finally all scanned and it came time to pay. Unlike most old people that pay with cash, this couple had a credit card. The tried to swipe it several times with no luck, The cashier then asked them if their card had a chip in it. The lady said, "Chips? No, we didn't buy any chips."

"No, ma'am," replied the cashier. "I'm asking you if you're credit card has a chip in it."

Visibly confused, the lady looks at her husband for help. He just shrugs his shoulders and says, "I dunno."

The cashier then asks for the card and inserts it into the chip reader. There seems to be an issue with the reader and/or card. The cashier then blows on it and rubs it on her shirt. I'm thinking that I might be here for a while. After about the fourth try, the transaction finally goes through. Thank God for small miracles.

The cashier hands the old lady her receipt and wishes her a good day. I prepare to advance my cart. But the old couple aren't quite finished yet. They linger at the end of the line a little longer. The cashier looks at me and we exchanged a smile knowing that we're just going to have to wait it out.

I finally get my few items checked out and I'm out my way to the parking lot. As I pull my car out of the parking space, I'm extra careful to avoid the numerous cars that appear to be on auto-pilot. Hitting the open road, I finally breathe a sigh of relief......

kw

Machado vs. Ventura

By now, most of you already know about the altercation that took place last night between Kansas City pitcher Yordana Ventura and Baltimore's Manny Machado. If not, I'll give you a quick recap. After taking two close pitches in the previous at bat, Machado was drilled by a 98 mph fastball on the next at bat. With no doubt that it was intentional, Machado tossed his bat and approached the mound and threw a hay-maker of his own at Ventura's head. The benches emptied and everyone was Kung Fu Fighting. You know the drill......

So, on the day after, there's been a lot of talk about what transpired. First off, there's the question whether or not Manny should charged the mound. I absolutely think he did the right thing. Ventura has a history of throwing at batters, so there's no doubt that he intended to drill Machado. So, if Manny just casually shakes it off and jogs down to 1st base, he looks like Ventura's bitch. He was backed into a corner and had to, in effect, defend his honor. If you recall, Manny was ridiculed last year (or was it two years ago?) when he got into a beef with Oakland's Josh Donaldson over a hard tag. At that time, Manny came out of it looking like a crybaby. So, last night, if he takes "the high road", his respect factor takes another serious blow.

As you would expect, the rest of the team rallied around Machado. Even Buck Showalter was in the middle of the melee. This team certainly has each other's back. And never afraid to speak his mind, Adam Jones criticized Ventura and then offered to pay Machado's fine. Now, that's a great teammate!

With the inevitable suspension looming for Machado, the big question is what kind of impact will it have? Presonally, I don't think Machado should be suspended. They say he threw the first punch. But did he really? Isn't a 98 mph fastball the equivalent of a right uppercut? So, don't give me this bullshit that Machado started it.

Ventura has a history of throwing at batters. He's "brave" enough to do this because he pitches in the American League where pitchers don't have to bat. He would probably think twice about plunking a batter if he knew he would have to enter the batter's box against the opposing pitcher. But since this is a non-factor, it's up to the league to step in and take action.

There's little doubt that both, Ventura and Machado, will receive a suspension within the next few days. And Machado's will likely be more severe. Ventura's suspension will be watered down by the fact that he's a pitcher. So, if he gets a 10-game suspension, he will only miss two starts. On the other hand, if Machado receives a 5-game suspension, he sits out five games. The league needs to take this into account in these situations. But they won't.....

Another question is whether there will be any retaliation from the Orioles. Who knows? But I have a feeling that KC centerfieler Lorenzo Cain won't be digging in at the batter's box against the O's any time soon....

kw