I have never liked to use the phone. Conversations and transactions, whether personal or business, that I easily conduct in person become loathesome by phone. I don’t know why. Perhaps it is because I come from a family of phonophobes. I don’t think I have ever had a conversation of more than five minutes with either my father or my brother, and while my mother and sister were more that willing to converse on the on the phone, neither seemed to know that it was a device that could both place and receive calls. On the other hand, perhaps it is a characteristic of most men. In my Thursday Night Men’s Group, calling the guys, whether it is for help with a problem or just to talk, is part of the program. Whether it is the dislike of using of the phone or of asking for help, most of the men refer to the phone as too heavy to pick up. Having lots of company doesn’t make being a phonophobe any more acceptable at home. (more…)
Posted tagged ‘home’
This is probably a peculiar post, so let me explain how it happened. I decided I would like to post about all the places I’ve lived … with pictures … on my Dad’s Legacy Blog that I’m building for my kids and grandkids. I decided I wanted to post a picture of every apartment, dorm, room and house I’d lived it. My wife Muri will tell you I can get a bit obsessive when I take on such a project. The places that were truly home were easy … I had pictures already scanned. I found an old picture that shows my dorm at the University of Connecticut and I found a picture of my freshman year dorm on the Stevens Tech website. That left Google Maps Street View to find the rest. In some cases, I didn’t remember the exact address and had to eyeball my choices. One apartment has been torn down and another, I haven’t a clue where it was in Newton, MA. Anyway, by the time I finished, I didn’t feel like starting on a Friday Favorites, so this is it. I’ll understand if you decide to skip it.
I was thinking this morning about how many places I have lived in my seven decades. I was born in New Haven, Connecticut and spent the first couple years of my life living with my Mom’s parents. There are a few pictures of me and some relatives in that neighborhood but no memories. When my Dad came home from service in WWII, we moved to a small apartment on The Boulevard in New Haven. It was a neighborhood full of young families, so there were lots of kids to play with, many of whom I still remember with a little assistance from some old photos from my Dad’s house. I had my first best friend there, Roy Winchester. In the summer before I started fourth grade, we moved to small ranch house in East Haven, Connecticut. They say that home is where the heart is, but some places have more heart than others … I would call 650 Bradley Street home for nineteen more years, even though I went away to college after 13 years and off to work after 17. For college, I spent a year in the dorms at Stevens Tech, in Hoboken, NJ, a year in an apartment in Waterbury (while I attended a branch of the University of Connecticut), and two years in the dorms at the main campus in Storrs, CT. When I took my first engineering job in 1966, I first rented a room in Brookline, Massachusetts then moved to an apartment that I shared with a UConn classmate in Newton, MA, not far from where the shootout with the Bostan Marathon bombers took place. I would take a room in Newport, RI when I changed jobs until Muri and I got married. (more…)
Sunday morning, I slept in until 9:00, something that almost never happens. When I rolled over and tried to get up, I found my muscles ached just about everywhere I have muscles. Both were due to the same thing … spending hours in the pools at Desert Ridge Resort playing with my grandkids. Listening to me groan, Muri said, You can’t play like an eight year old anymore, Bud. The truth is I can’t play like a forty-eight year old anymore. Perhaps not even like a fifty-eight year old. But the best thing about being with my grandkids is that for a brief moment in time, I feel like I can, so I do. I may pay the price the next day but they … and that feeling of being a kid again … are worth that price. (more…)
If you are a subscriber and this post acted a little strange, I accidentally published it last night before it was finished, so I had to unpublish it. Sorry.
Muri and I moved to California in 1971. I was 27 years old. We told our parents it would only be for a few years … I don’t know if we believed it ourselves but here we are41 years later. We both liked it here, obviously. One thing that it took a while to get used to was the pace of change in California. It seemed as if everything was new and as soon as an area got some mileage on it, redevelopment would begin. We hadn’t yet discovered picturesque older towns like Laguna Beach and Pasadena. When we’d travel home to visit family, I loved driving into my home town of East Haven, Connecticut on Main Street where I could count on everything … the library, City Hall, the Old Stone Church, even Holcomb’s Drugstore … being right where I left it. Then after several years without a visit, I drove into town to find it, too had been redeveloped. It never seem quite so much my hometown again. (more…)