Second Try

     Although our first camping adventure of 2025 was fraught with problems, from no running water in our camper to having to spend time replacing a power cord chewed through by rodents, my wife and I had high hopes our second camping trip of 2025 would turn out better.

    Now that we had figured out how to get running water in our camper, our next goal was to get hot water. It comes in handy when you're doing dishes or taking a shower. After searching everywhere inside our camper to find the valves to open the pipes to the hot water tank, we finally found them. They were under our camper bed. I would have never thought to look there.

    We were under a heat advisory when we journeyed to Sauder Village campground in Ohio. I parked our camper in the parking lot of a hotel adjoining the campground. It was a long heatstroke inducing walk across the blacktop to the hotel and its check-in desk. I filled out the registration papers for our camp, but balked when it asked for our license plate number. I didn't remember it.

    Another long walk across the broiling blacktop to get the license plate, then back to the hotel check-in desk again. Once all checked in, we located the wastewater dump station which is usually where you get fresh water. But there was no fresh water hose or spigot there.

    So another long walk across the burning blacktop to learn where we fill our camper with fresh water. We were told there were multiple spigots located inside the campground. We just had to supply our own hose. That's usually not the case at previous campgrounds where we'd stayed and the vermin who chewed through our power cord also did the same to one of our hoses. Thankfully we still had one intact. And it was just long enough for us to fill the water tank on our camper.

    We parked and unhitched our camper. My wife Wendy went inside to turn on the pump so the water would flow to our camper restroom. I was outside resting at the picnic table and waiting for my sweat to dry or evaporate when I heard the sound of gushing water.

    I walked around to the other side of the camper to see a waterfall coming out of a plug by our hot water tank. A rod which I thought had been securely screwed into place was anything but. I tried to push the rod back in but the water kept pouring out.

    Just then, a maintenance man came riding up on a golf cart. “Looks like you sprang a leak,” he said.

    “YA THINK???” I wanted to tell Captain Obvious. Instead, I told him it was just fresh water. We weren't dumping our wastewater or anything like that.

    “You good then?” he asked. Does it look like I have it under control? Hans Brinker had much better luck using his finger to plug a leak in a dike in the Netherlands than I was having trying to stop my waterfall.

    But I told him I had it under control. After he rode off, I had my wife turn off the water pump. That stopped the waterfall. I turned the valves to close off the hot water tank. No more leak. So we would get no hot water this trip but we still had running water anyway.

    Then Wendy announced, the water tank reservoir indicator light shows that we're almost out of water. And we're set up now nowhere near a water spigot.  I used a manual method involving a pail, a funnel and a couple hikes to a water spigot to put enough water into our camper to last the duration of our camp.  

    Maybe third time camping will be the charm.

A Forgetable Camp

     It was supposed to be the initial shakedown trip with our camper after retrieving it out of winter storage. Wife Wendy and I planned a mini-vacation in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to make sure all the electrical, plumbing and propane-powered appliances on our 18-foot Puma Ultra Light were in working order.

    But we made an unfortunate discovery on the day we were due to depart. I pulled out one of the cardboard boxes we had stored underneath the camper floor to discover it was filled with what amounted to confetti.

    A gang of rodents at the camper storage facility must have had a shredding party of some sort. What was shredded we couldn't determine as the mice did a better job than the professionals at the CIA,. Nevertheless, we replaced a heavy duty electrical cord they destroyed also. Good thing we did as we forgot our regular extension cord. We use that and my power drill to level the camper. I forgot to bring the power drill anyway. I had to level the camper manually.

    So we had electricity in our camper when we set up but for some reason no running water. We contacted the dealer that winterized our camper who told us to remove an access panel underneath the sink so we could open a valve there.

    That required us having the proper tools. We forgot to bring tools. We had to make a trip to the local hardware store to buy a screwdriver. But once we got access to the valve we got water. But then we weren't getting propane to flow to our stove.

    I opened the valve to the propane tank but that didn't help. After some time had passed Wendy asked if I had turned a switch that would allow the propane to flow through to the camper. Ooops. Forgot about that too. Once I flipped the switch, we got the stove burner to work.

    I remembered to bring my shaving kit but forgot to pack my electric razor. Wendy said I could borrow her razor but without my shaving cream, which I also forgot to pack, I sliced my chin. Fortunately, I did remember to bring bandages. They were packed in my shaving kit.

    It was time for a road trip so we could enjoy the scenery and relax. Our campground was located near the iconic Pictured Rocks lakeshore. It's a very beautiful national monument full of waterfalls and colorful cliffs. It does require a national parks pass, however.

    Last year we visited another U.S. National Lakeshore, this one at Sleeping Bear Dunes. But I had forgotten to bring my national parks pass which I've had for years. So I bought another one for Wendy then so we would both have one. It wasn't cheap but I figured we learned an expensive lesson.

    Or not. I didn't bring my national park passport this time. Wendy didn't bring hers' either. Were we about to pay $25 for the cheapest pass available and learn another expensive lesson? Heck, no. We skirted the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore and opted for a boat ride on Lake Superior instead.

    We were starting to wonder whether those rodents shredding party didn't include our master packing list.

    Back from our boat ride, we decided to relax and play a game of cribbage. We did bring our cribbage board. But we needed a deck of playing cards too.

    Ooops/

What Grandma Said

     I remember my grandma telling me, probably more than once, that it's hell getting old. Her words stuck with me as I became a senior citizen myself. But though I believe that aging through one's sixties and seventies is like walking through a minefield of increasingly scary health issues, I'd felt I'd dodged anything too serious even now in my 70s.

    Then earlier this year I began experiencing chest pain during my regular workouts at the gym. My exercise routine always begins on the treadmill, logging the same number of minutes at the same speed, at the same incline level. But soon I would feel a pain in the center of my chest. Slowing down my routine or stopping it altogether would bring relief.

    I wasn't overly concerned about it but concerned enough to mention it to my primary care physician who scheduled a stress EKG to see what was going on. The cardiac lab said the earliest appointment available was in three months. Since the cardiac people didn't see the urgency in having the procedure done, neither did I.

    So late in May I reported to the cardiac center and after a nurse injected me with dye they placed me in a chamber where they gauged how well my heart performed. Afterwards, my wife and I went to a local restaurant for breakfast.

    At the restaurant, suddenly, my wife received a call on her cell phone. We didn't recognize the phone number of the caller, so we figured it was a scam and ignored it. Then right away we got another call from the same phone number, then a third and a fourth. Altogether, we got eight calls within less than ten minutes.

    I checked the phone's call log to discover one of the calls had come from the office phone of my primary care physician. The others we assumed came from the office cell phone which is not listed in our cell phone's directory. Eight calls from my doctor in quick succession? That can't be good. I was sorry now it wasn't a scammer.

    I called the doctors' office back and they wanted me to have a virtual office visit right there? That would be awkward in a restaurant. I might be talking with the doctor about my heart issues just when the waitress comes up to ask, “Who had the biscuits and gravy with a side of bacon?”

    So we talked later. Bottom line, I flunked the stress test. There was a blockage that would require a heart catheterization and a stent. Wonderful. I had that done earlier this month.. I was obviously nervous about it. But as the nurse said I would be sedated to a kind of twilight state and wouldn't remember anything from the procedure.  Mmmmm, no.  I remembered everything and seemed quite awake.

    I heard the music being played during the procedure. You would expect something to reflect the calm and serious nature of heart surgery. Perhaps light classical with violins, or easy listening jazz piano. I'd even settle for the blues which would match my mood at the time. Instead, I heard rock 'n roll music, in fact what I would call heavy metal rock 'n roll. You know the kind of atmosphere that encourages performers to jump on stage, gyrate wildly, and sometimes smash their guitars. In other words, not the type of erratic behavior you want to encourage in an operating room. C'mon, And where was that twilight they promised?

    Then about halfway through the procedure I looked over at one medical technician sitting in front of an array of computer monitors that appeared to be tracking my heart, breathing and other vitals. But instead of watching the monitors, he was on his cell phone. Hello! They're doing delicate procedures inside my heart. Focus, sir! And where was that twilight I was promised?

    In the end, everything went well. They never did have to puncture an artery in my groin to thread the catheter, settling for my wrist instead. The medical staff didn't play air guitar, break dance or otherwise get carried away with the music. My vitals remained normal throughout. And I never got the twilight I was promised. So I was able to keep a clear mind as I thought back to grandma's words and realized what she meant when she said, “It's hell to get old.”

Mishaps And Misfortunes

      Studies have shown that there's a 20 to 40 percent chance you'll become ill or suffer an injury when on vacation. During our recent three-week vacation my wife and I avoided becoming sick aboard our Princess cruise ship and we weren't injured, but we did suffer mishaps.

     On our first day at sea, my wife fell near a pool, gashing her elbow. “I see blood,” a member of the crew cried out, then asked if they should call 9-1-1 for medical assistance. Wendy declined that, though others helped her to her feet. “I will pray for you,” the crew member said. I was unaware all this had happened until my wife returned to the table where I was sitting. She was in tears as she said, “I want to go home.”

     We were just beginning to cross the Atlantic Ocean and would be at sea the next seven days at least. Leaving now didn't seem to be an option other than maybe a helicopter airlift. Maybe those prayers offered would kick in and we would be okay.

     But the following day, Wendy fell again. This time it was in a public shopping area aboard the ship and employees immediately did call 9-1-1. Shortly afterwards, a member of the medical staff arrived but Wendy again refused medical assistance. We helped her to her feet and went back to the room where she iced her badly bruised knee.

     After her second fall, my wife switched to a different pair of shoes and had no more falls. However, I suffered a mishap of a different kind when my one and only belt broke. Trust me, I was not overindulging at the ship's buffet. The metal part just snapped. What to do? The ship's shops claimed they did not sell men's belts. I had to rig up a temporary belt using the fanny pack strap I had brought. I had to do something or else I was going to be revealing more than my moves while gyrating to the Beatles' Twist 'n Shout on the dance floor.

     Mishaps and misfortune are common on vacation as everyone knows. It could have been worse for us too. I saw one guy with a cast on his leg navigating a knee scooter towards the ship's dining room. He said he broke his leg in the middle of a six-week vacation.

     Misfortune also can take other forms. Wendy and I were aboard an elevator when a pre-teenager came sliding into the elevator in his stocking feet. I assume it was his mom who asked him, “Did you find your shoes?” to which the kid replied, “They weren't there.” Mom didn't look happy.

     While at Heathrow Airport, I saw a security staffer pull out a couple passports from a bin that had been left behind after it went through the electronic scanner. The guard asked if these passengers who had left them were still in the area. He was told they had left.

     The United Kingdom has implemented a new policy that requires tourists to get a visa if they plan to visit. While on an elevator aboard ship, days away from disembarking in England, a fellow passenger said she had not received her visa yet despite having applied weeks ago. Wendy informed her that we had received our's within days. She advised the lady to check her e-mail.

     That obviously wasn't the answer that passenger wanted to hear. I think I saw her enter the elevator on a subsequent occasion, her laptop opened, and she had an even more concerned look now. Meanwhile, our fortunes brightened. Not only did my wife do better with her walking, bruised knee and all, but they had a $10 sale in the shops aboard the ship.

     They even had belts! Rather than chastise the sales staff for misleading me earlier, I was just happy to have finally found an adequate belt replacement. I bought two.

Miscommunication

      My brother recently celebrated his 70^th birthday at a fancy restaurant with friends and family. The menu featured diverse offerings including something called a 'tofu steak'. Somebody pointed this out to my brother and he agreed that it looked good.

     But tofu isn't my idea of a steak and I'm sure my brother would agree. In fact,, I don't believe tofu and steak belong in the same sentence together let alone together on a menu. My brother apparently thought so too as he ordered the sirloin steak skewers. But that's not what he got. When the waitress delivered his meal, it was in fact a tofu steak.

     He said he didn't order that but another guest at his table said, indeed, he did. Apparently he said that 'tofu steak' looked good at the same time the waitress was writing down orders. Chalk it up to miscommunication.

     I couldn't be there at the birthday dinner as my wife and I were on a cruise across the Atlantic. The cruise director announced that our crew was made up of over 50 nationalities and the language spoken by all aboard the ship was “broken English.”

     My wife and I can have trouble understanding broken English. When we watch a TV show produced in Great Britain, sometimes we have to turn on the closed captions as we have trouble translating the English accents of the characters.

     One day while we were in a public area of the ship we heard the captain announce an emergency on deck four and for the appropriate team to respond. We saw one uniformed officer break into a trot as he headed for the stairs. Other crew members look concerned. It was a bit unnerving.

     Minutes later we heard another announcement in the captain's broken English. What I heard was, “The first dangerous bomb has been found.” What?? A bomb has been found? And it's the first bomb? I couldn't have heard that right. I asked my wife Wendy what she heard and she repeated the same thing I thought I heard. But there was no panic. Nobody seemed concerned. So . . . chalk it up to miscommunication, Thank goodness.

     Our port destination guide spoke of a trip to Thailand where he and a friend went into a more isolated and rural section of the country, stopping at a small cafe for lunch. According to the guide, Thai people in particular have difficulty understanding English and the menu they were handed was written in Thai script which neither the guide nor his companion could read.

     The men wanted chicken so they tried through gestures, even imitating a chicken by flapping their arms and making clucking sounds. The Thai waitress still appeared confused, possibly even more so now. But by luck, a free range chicken walked past just then, chickens often roaming free in foreign countries as Wendy and I have learned.

     So our guide and his friend excitedly pointed out the chicken, saying that's what they wanted for lunch. Finally, the waitress seemed to understand. Minutes later, the men heard a loud BWAWK-AWK of a screaming chicken, followed by a chopping sound. They inadvertently had doomed the poor chicken who had wandered by their table.

     Somehow they were able to communicate that they hadn't wanted THAT chicken who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And they were able to order fish instead. Again, chalk one up to miscommunication. Poor chicken.

Adventures in Reading

     I believe it was Charlie Brown who said, "Reading is an adventure that never ends."  I can vouch for that personally as a reading tutor for kindergartners at a local school.

    The drill is this: there is a two-person desk in the hall outside the classroom. Kindergartners come out one by one with a book drawer from which they can pick out a book to read to me. The teacher also gives me collection of books appropriate for beginning readers. Most kindergartners however like to select a book from their own drawer.

    Sometimes the books they want to read are either long or too difficult for them to read. They may be books their parents read to them, or books that were given as a gift from a relative. One boy pulled out a board book with birds on it.

    I thought, “How hard can a board book about birds be?” I expected words like jay, robin or crow. When he opened it, I saw that each two pages featured birds of a specifict color. But instead of easy birds like robin jay and crow, it was kingfisher, whooping crane and bullock's oriole. I've never even heard of a bullock's oriole.

    Yet, the boy read the birds on the first few pages without a hitch. A gifted reader, I thought. But as he turned more pages, he began to struggle. I realized that he probably had memorized the first few pages. So we began to sound out the more difficult birds. And there were flocks of them. Birds of every color. Birds I'd never heard of. I don't think Audubon knew all these birds, certainly not as a kindergartner. A-v-o-c-e-t. I couldn't even begin to pronounce that one.

    And how many different green and brown birds are there? Enough to fill four pages of this kid's board book.

    So time's up and I ask this kid to send out the next student. The kid told me, “She probably won't come out. But I'll try.” Sounds like I might be in for another reading adventure.

    A girl did come out with her book drawer, sat next to me and pulled out a big book. Oh, oh. “Can I see that?” I asked reaching for the book to see if it was more age appropriate than that bird book. But the girl pulled the book away, turned her back to me and opened the book, starting to say something but just then the hallways became very busy and noisy.

    That went on for a while but I could see the girl turn the pages and she seemed to be reading though I couldn't hear her. Then the hall traffic died down and I peeked over her shoulder. Turns out she wasn't reading at all. She was making up conversations between the illustrated characters in the book.

    I pointed out a word and asked her what it said. “I don't know,” she replied. So I sounded it out for her very slowly. “I know what your mouth is saying,” she rebuked me in a huff. But I eventually got her to read some on her own. Then I asked her to send out Davy D, the next kid on the list. “I don't know who that is?” she said. So we both went back to the classroom and I told the teacher she did not know who Davy D was. “It's Daveed,” the teacher responded (Davyd was on my class list but I had misinterpreted it).

    As Charlie Brown says, the adventure never ends.

Trying To Keep Up

      As we walked through the parking lot of a local grocery store, my five-year-old grandson Charlie announced, “You're 71 years old and still alive.”

Thanks, Charlie.  Yes, I'm trying to keep up through all the aches and pains.

My wife and I did have a little difficulty keeping up with our five youngest grandkids whom we watched while their parents were out of town.  The kid posing the most difficulty was the baby, Miles, who turns two in July.

Despite being the baby of the family, Miles insists on joining in whatever activity his older brothers and sister are doing.  For example, when they wanted to color pages I printed out on my computer, so did Miles.

And why don't kids want to color with crayons like we did when we were kids?  Instead, they insist on using “washable” markers, washable being a misnomer since they're not easily washable off everything as my wife has discovered.

So when Miles decided to grab a marker and join in the fun, Wendy went after him, knowing that coloring on paper like he was supposed to do was not his plan.  Miles took off, marker in hand, when he saw grandma coming.

Even though just a toddler, Miles is a little faster than his grandma.  And he thought it was great fun to have grandma chasing him around the house.  She did finally catch up and disarm him.  With his knack for getting into trouble, Miles had to be watched.  I thought we might be able to rely on big sister Gwen, 8, to help in that regard as she was the eldest of the five.

But when Wendy was downstairs doing laundry and I could hear the three older brothers arguing loudly upstairs, I asked Gwen if she could keep an eye on Miles so I could de-escalate tensions on the second floor.  She replied, “Nope.  I'm watching a movie.”  Thanks, Gwen.

I should add that picking up and carrying Miles anywhere is a weighty risk for seniors as he exceeds his siblings with one childhood benchmark, his appetite.  Recently his dad made jambalaya for dinner.  The only child not to turn his nose up at this offering was Miles.  He ate the jambalaya. 

We took all five to the library, another adventure.  Again, Miles played catch-me with his grandma, sprinting off to the adult section of the library while I was trying to help the other four with picking out books, signing on to the library computer learning system, and selecting movies to borrow.  Gwen had picked out a bunch of Blu-Ray movie DVDs which I had to tell her we couldn't play at home since we didn't have a Blu-Ray  disc player.

Then with books and movies checked out, it was time to leave.  But . . . where was Miles?  I couldn't spot him anywhere.  Neither could Wendy.  I booked it towards the exit to head him off in case he might be trying to flee the building while Wendy checked elsewhere in the library.  It didn't take long to find him.  He was seated at one of the computer learning stations.  If his brothers could do it, he wanted to try as well.

            What can we do to slow this plus-sized toddler down?  Perhaps another helping of jambalaya?