Scouting the path to Eagle

Here's another Alpha and Omega to share, from my youth to my adult life in the Boy Scouts of America. I considered posting my actual Eagle Scout award, but found this Sons of Union Veterans of the Civil War recognition kind of neat, and the dates line up with my Eagle Court of Honor. If you do the math, you'll note I made Eagle rank at age 13 years and 6 months. I had 31 merit badges, the 21 required and ten extra for two palms. I would become the second Eagle Scout in the family, following my father's footsteps and encouragement. My son, J.B., would also attain Eagle rank, although not quite so quickly. I suspect he enjoyed it more as a boy.

The other photo shows me making a presentation at an Explorers Award Banquet, as the District Director in West St. Louis County. A lot of years would pass between my 18th birthday and the day my son entered the scouting program in the mid-1980's, but once he was in, I came back to become involved as an adult. I served as an Asst. Scoutmaster, Chairman of the Troop Committee, and later involvement as an Exploring District Commissioner. In 2000, I was awarded the District Award of Merit, the same night I was part of the program to recognize young men and young women in the Exploring program.

My son did a good job with the program as well, winning his Cub Scout Pinewood Derby, graduating from WEBELOS into Boy Scouts, and earning his Eagle badge after holding most positions within his troop. His more leisurely pace allowed me to join him for five or six years of summer camp, and I can say I enjoyed the program more as an adult than as an overachieving boy. I attended Wood Badge training, and joined the Order of the Arrow. I still have my uniform, which actually was my father's since I clearly had outgrown my boyhood duds. I can't bear to discard it, even as I face moving across the country and eliminating many items before I go.

Scouting is a great program, and hopefully someday one of my children will present me with a grandchild who can become a fourth generation Eagle scout. If not, I'll settle for the Girl Scout's "Gold Award", the highest level in Girl Scouting if instead I'm honored with a grand-daughter. The best advice from Scouting........"Be Prepared".

P.S. - As an adult, I hiked the Lincoln Trail, all 21 miles. Boy did my feet hurt.

Photography Lesson

Yesterday, my grand-dogs were anxious to go outside, and after opening the garage door at the lower level rear of our condo, I saw why. Horses! And, of course the little dogs were anxious to go bark at the horses and risk a kick into next week by these much larger animals.

Now, I figured this was not wise, allowing my daughter's dogs to be summarily brought to a tragic end, so I hauled their Terrier derrieres (go ahead, compliment me on using terrier and the French word for asses in the same sentence) back into the house and grabbed my camera.

Lesson learned - cameras sitting in air-conditioned homes do not immediately react well to 95 degree temperatures with attendant humidity. I was NOT going for an "artistic" hazy look - but eventually I got from condensation to clarity. Mostly by wiping the lens on my shirt tail. I post this because a dear friend told me that my blogs are more "slice of life". So, I'll slice that day into the significant events of June 21st.

It began as do most days in Wildwood with coffee at the Jack in the Box, with my friend Jim. Well, not exactly true - it began several hours earlier when Millie, my beagle, went "walkabout" around 04:30. So, from the third level to the lowest level we quietly went downstairs, and unleashed our sleepy selves upon the world. Millie to do her business, me to walk her next door to the BP station where I would purchase the newspaper and Millie would get a stale donut from Geoff, the overnight man. Then back to the house, and fall asleep in my reclining chair, so as not to climb those stairs again, nor wake the house. Three hours later, I was having coffee, and shooting the breeze till around 8:30.

Then back to the condo, picking up my wife for our joint dental appointments. Both of us had the six month checkup and NO cavities. I didn't even get the "flossing lecture" so I must be learning in my old age - or the dentist has given up on me.

At 1 PM we were out in the far western suburbs doing the inspection of my daughters new house - she didn't have much time, and frankly we older folks are more thorough. My daughter is so excited, she would have accepted flaws, but not us.

Back home, we were following her recipe for tortillas prepared in a crock pot, and when the children got home from their respective jobs, we dined. That was when the horses rode into view, although somehow the dogs sensed them first. After dinner, I downloaded 20 classical pieces that have found their way into movie themes, and then off to bed. A day in the life, pretty dull, huh? Well, the good news is that the Lord gave me the chance to experience it, and be surrounded by friends and family, and even two young girls on horseback in my back yard.

The Alpha and Omega of Wildwood Mayor

These two shots define the beginning of my Mayor's term, and the end. I had been a City Councilman, one of sixteen (which IMHO was 8 too many) serving 32,884 residents living in a 1995 created city encompassing former unincorporated St. Louis County. The city is the third largest city in Missouri, in terms of land mass, and incorporates 11 sq miles of state, county and local parks within it's 68 square miles. Nine different watersheds cross eight defined political Wards, with each having two councilpersons elected to two year terms.

After two elections, in 1996 and 1998, I decided that the two year cycle was just crazy, and decided to run for Mayor so I could serve four years and actually accomplish something. During that time, from 1996 to 2004, I participated in the economic development of this new city. I saw the grandest fruit of these labors when the Dierberg's Market in the Wildwood Town Centre opened in early 2004. It was darn cold that day and I remember seeing my breath and that of other speakers as we cut the ribbon to the Dierberg's Market and anchor tenant of the development.

Having defeated an incumbent Mayor with 36% of the vote in 2000, I had no illusions that his "party", which had split over his alleged "too friendly with business" administration, was going to be stupid TWICE. I became an intentional lame duck, but unlike a Councilperson who only got paid when they went to the meetings, I was drawing a part-time salary, and gave our Pro-Tem some work toward the end. I could see my full time CEO job was heading toward retirement, so there was absolutely no reason to stick around for another campaign and $5,000 a year salary as Mayor. Apparently his leadership skills were not enough to aid his quest for Mayor in 2004, so letting him wield my gavel those last few months didn't change his image as a leader much. He was a darn fine Scoutmaster to my son, I have to give him that.

It was fun, however, and I learned a lot during that time as first a Councilman and later Hizzoner, the Mayor. It was a non-partisan post, however everybody knew I was a Republican. While I was serving, our city purchased its public risk insurance from MOPERM (Missouri Public Entity Risk Management), a pool of 400 plus instrumentality's of government. MOPERM, by law, had to have two Republicans, two Democrats, and the Attorney General of the state. I was honored by Mel Carnahan, a Democrat, to appoint me to the board as one of those "R's". In my five years on the MOPERM board, which ran concurrently with my Wildwood offices, I was proud to say we never had to file a claim. I retired from the MOPERM board as Vice Chairman.

When I got there, however, people were not happy. Of the sixteen Councilpersons, I had perhaps 3 who supported my agenda. So, I encouraged a number of like minded folk to get more involved in politics, and by mid-term I had 11 of 16 helping me govern. We also got several great appointees onto our Planning & Zoning Commission, many who would remain in office three years after I left. We worked to make "New Urbanism" fit into a realistic economic model. During those same eight years, I saw no fewer than six City Administrators come and go. Wildwood was not an easy place to work, as the town was full of chiefs but few Indians. Everybody wanted to lead, and nobody wanted to follow. The town was illustrative of the fact that "too many cooks spoil the broth" and remains today one where "one term Mayors" will herd cats and take inordinate amounts of time to accomplish most anything. The Wild Years were indeed that, and yet a very exciting time of my life - if not that of others.

I had to hide from the Fashion Police

There's that itchy sports jacket again, and I was indeed ten years old serving my time at Public School #66, the Henry Coburn School on 38th Street in Indianapolis. In the 1950's, school pictures always involved dressing up. The lapels were wide, and I had yet to develop a taste for button down collared shirts. Perhaps they hadn't been invented yet, but this fly collar had so much surface area it could lift my skinny butt right off the ground in a high wind. OK, so perhaps I exaggerate, but I'm only missing a bolo tie to be totally embarrassed by this fashion faux pas.

I remember those years somewhat fondly - at least I can't say they were bad, other than having to endure my mother's selection of clothes for me to wear. The second photo shows me wearing a shirt made out of Wonder Bread wrappers - the black and white shot doesn't do justice to the multi-colored balloons in the print. And of course, there are more of those airfoil fly collars. They were long enough to batter those huge ears on the side of my head. Fortunately, I've grown into those ears, but you have to admit - I was a cute kid regardless of how they dressed me.

My mother could not resist a bargain, so she'd buy shirts at Kroger's in the "bargain bin". Now, most folks buy GROCERIES at Kroger, but like I said "Mom could not resist a bargain". So she'd bring home shirts that were inexpensive because they were "irregulars" and lacked proper-length tails. You could tuck them in, but the relative shortness of the fabric didn't stay tucked in. She would of course solve that by offering to safety pin them to my underwear. Oh great, raise your hand in class and give yourself a wedgie!

Well, anyway it's been fun to find some old photos and scan them into my computer and share. I'm sure my readers have fashion disasters in their own youth to chuckle over today, and mine may even pale compared to theirs. If you can top this, I say "go for it".

Davey Crockett, King of the WILD Frontier

Uh, Dad - can't I just go without a hat? Apparently not, since father was determined that I have my own "straw" hat, just like his. Back in those days, I was the "little man" and enjoyed a somewhat peaceful life at home. It was the 1950's after all, and the economy was healthy and Gen. Eisenhower was in the White House, so most everybody was happy.

I couldn't have been more than just a few years removed from having a little sister, who would come via adoption when I turned ten and she was almost one. I actually had asked for a new suit coat, as you can see me wearing the same outfit in all these pictures, but apparently a sister seemed more important to my parents.

My sister was happy in those years, and I was just happy that she gave my mother a little girl to love. They had tried for another child for nine years, and as luck always seems to have it, my brother came along two years later. He then became the "little man" and by then I was eleven and starting to enter those difficult years when not a man, nor still a child. With each child, family dynamics change. Today with my sister gone, and my brother in another state, we have totally different relationships. Childhood is precious, and all too fleeting.

My sister would grow up in the late 1950's and early 1960's, and as the nation moved into the latter part of those turbulent times, she would experiment with her high school peers and find she was genetically inclined to substance abuse. It would ultimately end her life in her fifties from health issues. That would devastate my mother, who today at 90 still blames herself for not doing more to help. While we may be "our brothers keeper", we can not always save one from themselves. A happy and hopeful beginning for my sister, yet a tragic loss. If only they had bought me that suit instead of bringing me a sister but parents just never listen, do they?

A TV Star is Born

In this entry, I've set the "Way Back Machine" to the years 1964 and 1965, when I was starting my senior year in High School. During those four years of being a socially maladjusted child, I was not good at sports, so I gravitated to the Stage Crew, and became a Lesbian, er, I mean a Thespian. I learned how to operate the sound board, and the carbon-arc spotlights in "the booth". I loved Junior Vaudeville, where all the pretty girls would sing and dance. As I recall, it was a confusing time in my life and I was not any good with girls - I couldn't get to first base on a wild pitch, let alone a walk. I needed to improve my confidence, so I got involved in Junior Achievement, and extended my technical skills set.

I lucked out and found myself in a "company" sponsored by the (then) NBC affiliate in Indianapolis, where I was among 29 other high school Juniors learning all about the television business. The call letters were WFBM, and the mascot was a large St. Bernard dog named Woof-Boom. That dog went everywhere, and was identified with the station, so we called ourselves "Woof Co TV".

This was back in the day where Sunday mornings were a vast wasteland - before being taken over by "talking heads" news shows and sporting events. We were given a half hour time slot and an option for 13 weeks in the Spring of 1965. We had the Fall of 1964 to organize the company, issue stock, sell advertising, and work on production sets. We elected Roscoe Stovall, Jr., our company President (he went on to become the President of the Freshman Class at Indiana University the following year). Ros Stovall, whom I still speak with to this day, asked "who wants to be the host of our programs?". We had decided to have six dance parties, like "American Bandstand", and seven "desk and couch" interview shows of the "Tonight Show" genre.

A young man named Don Worsham volunteered to host "Dance, Dance, Dance" which had the Beach Boys tune of the same name as it's intro theme, and I volunteered to do the "Sunday Show" which was the awe inspiring name we chose for my seven weeks. Don, who arguably had more rhythm than most, did a good job on alternating weeks.

Another fellow named "Larry" (can't recall the last name) sold HALF the sponsorships to Dr. Pepper out of Dallas. I remember he had to fight the television station for his commission, as they didn't expect anybody to make that much money. We also sold shares for a dollar each, and based on Larry's success as Sales Manager, we paid a dividend at the end of the year of $2.40 on that buck.

I did NOT like the taste of Dr. Pepper in those days, so I'd empty the bottle and put Coke in its place, so when I took a sip on camera, I could smile and not grimace. I also learned that when the red light came on, you were going to have to do something other than just sit there and try to look pretty. Today's anchor babes get by on looks, but I was all nose and Adam's Apple in those days. They said I had a face for radio, and in the military I did find myself enjoying radio more than TV, but I had volunteered for this, so I made an effort to look calm and collected.

I did my seven weeks on camera, and found my confidence improve with each taped show "in the can". We interviewed other youth who were making all sorts of other products, generally along the lines of the companies that sponsored them. If the sponsoring company made jet engines, however, the J.A. company stuck to Christmas ornaments or arts and crafts from coat hangers and Plaster of Paris.

By the end of the season, and graduation from high school, I had managed to hit a little better, and was reaching second, sometimes third on a fielding error. I never did steal home, but being a celebrity (in my own mind mostly) helped hone my social skills, and that year's activity also helped me get the assignment I really wanted in the military. Vietnam was just over the horizon in those years, and times were much simpler for high school students. It was the best of times.

Dinner with Lady Thatcher

Well, a picture is worth a thousand words, so you've got two thousand words there. The photo was taken by a Bank of America employee, at a private reception before a speaking tour in which former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher was to appear. At the time, I was wearing several hats - one of a CEO of a tax exempt revenue bonding authority that was routinely depositing millions of dollars a year into and through accounts at Bank of America, and my other hat was Mayor of a St. Louis suburb.

My friends at the bank had offered me tickets to the actual speech, but more importantly the dinner at the adjacent dining club with the guest of honor. I was the closest to an "elected official" in the crowd, so I was asked to dine to the left of Lady Thatcher. Now, most of my friends find me to the right of almost all of them, but I do assure you I was in the company of a complete conservative. I added this fascinating individual to my bucket list, which also included three U.S. Presidents - Ford, Reagan and Bush (41). For a guy with a degree in Political Science, I could not have asked for more.

Oh, the bank was also gracious to provide two of the books of Margaret Thatcher, autographed of course. They sit in a bookcase next to my Ronald Reagan autobiography. This week, I'll be packing them in boxes to move them to my new library in Florida. What? You've never heard of a Residential Library?

Egad - he's wearing plaid

In less than 24 hours, I'll be headed back to St. Louis where I've maintained a residence since 1982. When I moved to the area that was later to become Wildwood, Missouri, these two fine gentlemen were already firmly entrenched on the land. They became the "Mayor's Kitchen Cabinet" and we'd meet at various restaurants around town to drink coffee and swap stories.

That's Jerry on the left and Jim on the right, and me in the middle - that hat dates back to a business trip I took in 1980-81 out west, where I thought it would be neat to come back with boots and a Stetson. At the time, I was living in Iowa, and upon landing at the Des Moines airport, my wife and son greeted me. J.B. was perhaps all of three and a half years old and I still remember his words.........."silly Daddy, he's wearing a cowboy hat". I think the boots have gone to Goodwill, but the hat awaits me in the closet up north, along with the blue jeans, several plaid shirts, and a few denim shirts. With a little luck, I'll be seeing my buddies before the weekend is over, although in moving to sunny Florida full time this coming September, I have to wonder if wool shirts and blue jeans will have a place in my closet. Oh, none of my shirts are Pendelton wool - I bought them at the local farm supply store.I do have my thrifty (cheap) image to uphold, after all.

Several months ago, I wrote a blog entry about the R.O.M.E.O.'s, the Retired Old Men Eating Out. The daily breakfasts with the guys will be a nice change, and a good start of each day. My summer will be spent helping my daughter move into her new house (where possibly I'll have closet space for my northern duds), then getting our condo readied for sale. And, for the next two months at least, I'll again have a chance to be a little bit country while still thinking of myself as a little bit rock and roll.

The Corvette Club, Part Two

I wanted to post several pictures in my last entry, but I'm not all that good with this program, so Part Two of "The Corvette Club". I showed you the membership of the club in my first post, and here's the leadership. They are portrayed applauding my having volunteered to help maintain a Club History by taking pictures and sending them to club President R.J. Munson (he's the big guy in the blue shirt). Actually, they're not......but somebody more deserving is getting the applause. Perhaps it's for Dale and Debbie, in the other picture. They got married on the Marina Jack II boat two days earlier. Dale is a banker, and also our Treasurer. Debbie also works in banking, but for a competing bank - this being Florida, and the economy being what it is, perhaps someday all one and the same bank. I hope our club is also "too big to fail", as we all seem to enjoy each others company and we've been growing in membership as more baby boomers move to Florida's Sun Coast south of Tampa.

Our club isn't just about driving and eating - we also have a good record of fund raising for charities in the local area. In addition to our annual Chevy Show at sponsor Cox Chevrolet, we do a big Toys for Tots event in the fall months, where registration fees fund the purchase of toys. This year we'll be at Beall's, a locally based retailer with stores throughout Florida. If you are a big fan of "America's Sports Car", come visit us and we'll even find you a good deal on a Corvette of your own.

The Corvette Club

Every other Tuesday night, you can find me at the meeting of the Gulf Coast Corvette Club, which meets in Bradenton, Florida at 25th and Manatee Avenues. You'll recognize the place by the many Corvettes parked in the lot. Now, not all of our members drive their Corvettes to the meeting, as evidenced by the picture of a truck parked next to the meeting room at Synovus Bank, but quite a few of us enjoy "daily driver" status for our cars. It's a great group of people, and a very healthy club in terms of membership - the pictures show a large gathering, and this is during the month of June after our "snowbirds" have gone north to other homes.

I've written about the trip to Solomon's Castle in a previous blog entry, and our club routinely has events where we can gather. Our meetings, which start at 7 PM, are generally over by 7:45 and we then all go to dinner together. Each meeting ends with picking the restaurant for the following meeting, and our most recent was at Appleby's. We have other favorites, including an oyster bar, a pizza place, rib and barbecue joints, and Greek restaurants - we're an eclectic group of gourmands, and sometimes I think we're a dining society masquerading as a car club.

I'm going to miss these guys over the summer, but I'll be taking my "colors" with me and drop in on Missouri car shows where my license plate and drivers license generally guarantees a prize for "greatest distance traveled".

Just Add Money - Part Two

The picture on the right shows a brown colored tile on what is a fireplace at the far end of the room. The tile sample (pictured left) is what we propose using to replace it, which will complement (as well as compliment) the new wood flooring to be installed. There was some discussion about using that same stone tile for the kitchen back-splash, but we're still looking for something a bit more two dimensional. I love this tile!

Those red couches will be going out with the current owners - and the layout of the room will be flipped - we'll be placing the television on the fireplace side, and not have a sectional but a less massive couch and chairs. One nice thing about this picture - it shows the expansive use of glass sliding doors (which we'll be replacing with more energy efficient and hurricane standard doors) which allow lots of light into this home. We're really pleased with the light, and the high ceilings, which make this house seem far more spacious than it's 2,013 square feet, and a 420 sq. ft. garage. The master bedroom measures 15'1" by 16'10", and the second bedroom is a spacious 13'6" by 14'6' with adjacent bath. The very best part is that both bedrooms and baths are at opposite ends of the house and can be closed off for energy savings when guests are not about.

Oh, those two guys in the living room - that's my Realtor in white, and the seller's Realtor in the blue shirt. This picture was snapped during the house inspection - those guys are just sitting around waiting to cash those commission checks.

Just Add Money - Part One

We made the offer, they countered, we accepted, and the dance begins. We had seen another house, but it was not YET on the market and the owner had decided it was worth $585,000. It was perfect, and we'd not have changed even the paint color, but it wasn't yet on the market, and in all fairness, it was at the top of the range I thought I'd have to spend.

Enter a property listed at $419,000 - one level, two car garage, two bedroom, two bath. While the other more expensive, but not yet listed, property offered an actual office, we saw possibilities. Ultimately settling on $400,000, we took our favorite contractor, Jason, through the house and discussed possibilities. He came up with an idea that would convert the breakfast area adjacent to the kitchen into a "man cave" where I could move my computer, a credenza, my Missouri condo's recliner, a bookshelf and my television. It would involve some kitchen reconstruction, and addition of a frosted glass door to allow light from the breakfast area (soon to be "den" of the papa bear) into the kitchen.

So, with the knowledge we could get the benefit of the office out of an unused breakfast area, we started making plans. We'd move an interior wall in the "den" to make it 9' wide and 14' long, we'd add a peninsula in the kitchen where we could put a couple of stools and have a surrogate breakfast area for coffee drinking and newspaper reading, and we'd replace the flooring throughout (except for bathrooms) with wood, and change out the cabinet fronts to a light colored wood, and add granite counter tops. We'll also remove the "popcorn ceilings" and replace them with skip troweled finish, and redo the bathrooms where the current pink tile would find more neutral replacement. There is a fireplace, and we've found a tile that we think will look great, and as this is written we're still looking for an appropriate back-splash. Today we found some nice pendant lights to place over the desired peninsula - stools to fit under can wait.

Oh, we've not kept my usual record of what we're spending - in terms of the granite, we started at several places where granite ran from $60 to $120 a square foot. What we found, at the workplace of our contractor's favorite fabricator, was a bargain at $22 a square foot - so we bought three large pieces - it will do the entire kitchen, plus seats in the showers, and perhaps a hearth in front of the fireplace. The wood will come from Lumber Liquidators, and I'm confident I'll find a good price on that. Watch this blog for further episodes