Category Archives: Uncategorized

Signs of Growing Old, (and an interesting organization).

25 Saturday Jun 2016

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SIGNS OF GROWING OLD

I was shopping at Costco and bought a large item in a big box. Wheeling it out to my car in the parking lot, I was in the process of getting it into the back of my van, when I heard a car stop right behind me. A lady jumped out of the car on the driver side and asked, “Can I help you?” I said thank you, and she grabbed the other side of the box and heaved it into the van. I thanked her again, and she left.
My wife was sitting in the van in the driver seat. When I got in she said, “You know you really look old, when a women, at least eight month pregnant, jumps out of her car to help you lift something.” I hate it when she’s right.

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A few years later I was bringing home a patio set. It was one of the common ones made of black steel mesh. I was in the process of extracting it out of my van when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning around I saw a sheriff deputy standing behind me.
I was about explain that I didn’t steel it when the deputy said, smiling, “Let me help you with that.” They picked up the table, put in over their head and took it up the stairs and placed it in my patio for me.
I was lucky that the deputy was on another call and happen to be there, and really lucky that she was so strong.

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As we grow older it becomes harder to find social groups to join that we feel we can participate in. I can recommend one that has worked out well for me. The headquarters are in Port Ludlow, Washington. It is the GOOFs, (Grand Order of Old Farts). We have many chapters around the world, all of which are anonymous. We don’t want to be under surveillance from the governments. All you have to do to be one, is look in the mirror and be honest. (More info. Below.)
Notice
Due to the fact that the GOOF organization, (GRAND ORDER OF OLD FARTS), has started its annual membership drive and is acting as an umbrella structure for more political influence in the area of all undertakings concerning Farts in general, the following national chapters are recognized:
1. The OFDs…..Old Farts of Distinction. (Realizing of course none of the present members fall in this category.)

2. The MDFs….Modern Day Farts. These younger farts have a lot to offer the organization. They can help the members to use their phones, computers, I-pads, and even the GPS in their cars. Another plus is they don’t smell as bad as the old farts.

3. The REDs…..Retired-Extremely-Dangerous. Some of this group belong to the NRA, but the vast majority of them just own a car. The hard core members own a truck.

4. The WAIs…..Who Am I….(Most of the membership will join this chapter before their final retirement).

Based on the prestige of membership in these exclusive and fine organizations it is imperative that there is no dribbling or snoring at meetings.
By order of the Czar
In charge of
FART OVERSITE, U.S.GOVERMENT, WASHINGTON D.C.
Active 4/1/2015
Until further notice

Who Should Get the Ultimate Award?

14 Tuesday Jun 2016

Posted by in Personal Philosophy, Tips for a Happy Life, Uncategorized

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Sisters Diane and Lorrie

Sisters Diane and Lorrie

Bikeing

Bikeing

Runing

Runing

Mother and Son, AKA--Ryan and Diane

Mother and Son, AKA–Ryan and Diane

Today, (Sunday, 13 June, 2016), I went to a sporting event for the regular folks, not the professional athlete. It was a small, and smaller triathlon, held in Redondo Beach California, on the beach, by the pier. I was there to watch two of my daughters and one of my grandsons participate, along with somewhere around three hundred others.

The events were held in such a way that families could do them. My family was one of many that was taking advantage of the event to have a fun day together. There were fathers and sons, sisters, mothers and daughter, and friends all swimming, biking and running. All of them worked out for months to be able to complete their event.

There were two events and you signed up for the one best for you. The longer of the two had you swim one half mile in the ocean, bike six miles and run two miles. The Minnie was half of that, swim a quarter mile, bike three miles and run one mile.

My grandson, Ryan, did the longer one with ease. He is young, which makes him immortal like all young people. My two daughters, Lorrie and Diane, are in their fifties and had to work hard for months to get ready to do the shorter one. The ocean swim alone, out through the surf – swim a quarter of a mile – and back in through the surf would stop 95% of most people. (All my daughters are special. My third one, Shelly, waited until she raised three kids to adults to go to college).

I, on the other hand, sat in my walker and watched as they all sweated by me. I did however, manage to find enough energy to take a few pictures, and after about two hours the event was over and the awards were given out.

There were a number of categories that awards were given to. There was a first, second and third in each one, and many people got one, but the one award they didn’t give, which in my estimation, should have been the Ultimate award, was last place.

The person that struggled across the finish line last, had more pain, suffering, and gut commitment, than anyone else in the event. We never seem to hold them up as special. We should honor them, for they are in reality the most special of all. My apologies to all the winners. (Just a note …. No one in my family would have won that award today.)

The fish Part #2

13 Friday May 2016

Posted by in Education and Teaching, Personal Philosophy, Uncategorized

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What have we learned so far?

A child’s mind wants to know the answers to every question they encounter. If you give them an answer the question is closed.  Once it is closed it is hard to reopen because they already know the answer.  Dr. Hubbs didn’t answer my question, he lead me on a path of discovery and showed me how to answer it.

The path of discovery has no end; I’m still on it.  If he would have just said, “That is a ratfish.” I would have probably become a mechanic like my father instead of a biology teacher, because the issue would have been closed.

Now the rest of the story.

Twenty years later I was visiting Scripts Institute of Oceanography as a graduate biology student from Cal State University at Long Beach.  In my wanderings I discovered a room full of fish specimens.  The main interest and emphasis in my education was ichthyology, (fish) and I was looking at the specimens in the bottles when I came on one that caught my eye.

It was a ratfish in a bottle.  There were several there but this one was different because the label on it was incomplete.

The date was there, twenty-years earlier.  The location was there, Cardiff in the surf,  but under collected by, it just said Johnny.

I was standing there with the bottle in my hand when a man walked in and smiled at me as he walked to a desk in the corner of the room.  I recognized him from his picture in some of the articles I had read.  It was Dr. Hubbs.

I walked over to him with the bottle in my hand and said, “I have a question.”

“I hope I have an answer.”  He smiled back.

“I was looking at this specimen and I noticed the information on the label is not complete.  I was wondering why?”  I handed him the jar.

He looked at it and said, “Oh, you mean the name of the collector?  Well, that’s the only name I got.  It was a young boy that brought it in and I didn’t get his full name.”

I said, “It isn’t an unusual specimen, how come you kept it?”

“I kept it to remind me what biology is all about.  The wonder the young man had and the sheer delight that showed in his eyes when he discovered what the fish was is what I think of whenever I get discouraged.  That curiosity and joy of discovery is what science is all about.

Sometimes we get too close to the project to remember why we are doing it in the first place.  When I need reminding I come down here and look at that fish, and I remember why I like what I do.”

I said, “Well, I think you should complete the label, the last name is Reseck, Johnny Reseck Jr.” and I held out my hand to him.  He took my hand in both of his and didn’t say a word.

Tears came to his eyes and he came around the desk and gave me a hug.  He said, “Thank you for coming back and completing the label for me.  I have wondered so often whatever happened to that young man.”

We had a long talk. We talked about fish, and school, and research, but mostly we talked about why it is so important to wonder.  I never saw Dr. Hubbs again.

What did I learn?

I learned even important men who are leaders in their field get discouraged from time to time, and it is okay to have a crutch to help you through those hard times, even if it’s just an old fish in a bottle.  I once told a friend who was going through a hard time that he needed a fish in a bottle and he thought I  was crazy.

I also learned the importance of wondering.  I define wondering as the combination of curiosity and excitement.  Every child is good at it.  Most adults have lost it to become politically correct and fit into their slot.

Don’t lose it, because it makes life an adventure instead of just a voyage.

NOTE:  Dr. Carl Hubbs was one of the world’s leading ichthyologists.

 

A TEACHER TO REMEMBER

26 Tuesday Apr 2016

Posted by in Education and Teaching, Uncategorized

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A Teacher to Remember

(I love this story)

Two years after I retired and moved to Port Ludlow in Washington State on the Olympic Peninsula, I got a call from Peninsula College.  They needed a part time Marine Biology teacher in a hurry.  The teacher they were planning on to teach a marine biology course off the main campus in Port Townsend became unavailable.  The class was in their class schedule and was full with 25 students.  It was to start in four weeks.

I hadn’t been teaching for a while and jumped at the chance to get back into the classroom with the future leaders of our country teaching my favorite subject.

The class was to be held at the Marine Science Center on the end of the pier at Fort Warden State Park in Port Townsend.  That was good news and bad news.  Being 45 miles away from the main campus, all the normal lab supplies were not available.  They had microscopes and a few prepared slides but that was all.  The good news was there were a dozen major aquariums in the building that we could use, and being my only class I had time to collect live specimens to use in our lab sessions.

It worked out well and I had a great time mixing with the younger generation again.  I stayed for six years.

Like in any class there are things that occur that were unplanned that you remember as special.  This is the story of one of those occurrences.

The lab session for this particular night was to look at live plankton.  Plankton is mostly very small animals and plants that drift in the ocean.  To catch and look at it under the microscope we use a ‘plankton net’; which is a very fine mesh butter fly type net.

This evening my plan was to have the class go down to the dock on the pier and pull the net along the dock, then go directly to the classroom (100 feet away), and watch the live specimens swimming around through their microscope.

Not wanting to get caught flat-footed I came an hour early and went down to the dock to check if there were enough plankton in the water to catch.  Sometimes the water was clear and almost no plankton would be in it, then I would switch to a different exercise.

The ramp down to the dock was forty feet long and as I walked down, the eight river otters that were resting on the dock all went back into the water.  They used the dock all the time and it was covered with otter poop.  As I was tiptoeing between the piles, I had a sudden realization that the poop on the dock looked exactly like the ‘Cliff Bar’ I was in the process of eating, as my ‘before class’ snack.  I broke off a good size chunk and placed it on a ‘clean’ spot at the edge of the dock, and went back up the ramp to meet my class.

An hour and a half later after my lecture, the class got their plankton nets and we all marched out to the dock to collect our lab material for the 2 hr. lab that was to follow.

There were a couple of otters on the dock that hit the water when we came down and I announced to the class to be careful not to step in the poop.  They all became very aware of it all over the dock.  I had them now – the con was on.

I said, “I wonder if they were males or females.”  I was sure one of them would take the bait, and one did. College students are always interested in sex.

“How can you tell?” was the question from the crowd.

I said, “It’s easy, the females have estrogen in their feces and it makes it sweeter than the males.”  I bent over, picked up my planted Cliff Bar, and popped it in to my mouth.  “This one is a male,” I said spitting it out, and going on with the class collecting like nothing had happened out of the ordinary.

Those 25 students may not remember much about marine biology as they grow old, but they will never forget the teacher, and have a great story to tell to their grandchildren.  Don’t you just love it when a plan all comes together?