New Year Observations

Resolutions.  Well, no. just observations.  I find that I am closer to the lifetime National Park pass for $10.  just not there quite yet.  But I am finding that turning 61 is hitting me harder than 60.  For some reason, my mortality is deepening in my soul more than ever.  I may have 20 years max if I am lucky.  Enough time to see the rest of my grandchildren.

I don't anticipate retirement soon.  Observations of the friends that have retired.

They are aware of the non peak hours to shop at Costco.  This includes the best time to fill up the gas tank, and run in for the roasted chicken for dinner.  Lunch of hot dogs on Fridays.

They have wives that leave them daily to do lists with the expectation that they will be completed by the end of the day.  It seems unanimous that the list is never completed and the most difficult creative problem is how to explain why when the wife comes home.

The gravitational forces on men's zippers increases with age.  Don't ask why, but the times where I am aware of the potential embarrassing situation, are no longer embarrassing.  Just a part of life.

Grand parenting is a joy.   Let me repeat that.  Grand parenting is a joy.

I have a sister in-law that does not like my grey hair.  My solution is to avoid her as much as possible.  Grey is better than no hair

There is no consistent age to get senior discounts.  It can vary from the 50s to usually a minimum of 62.  It also depends on membership (AARP) or the non public posting of policy.  Of course the question is always, does my younger spouse qualify per my age?  Of course she has to be willing to admit she is that old........  Scratch that.

You can get away with a lot being old, feigning memory lapses, slow movement, getting young people to do things for you, especially hard physical exertion.

Most importantly, Thanking God each day you are alive to see another day, to see friends, family and re-runs of NCIS.

Facebook vs. Anti-Social Paranoia

I have always tended to lean towards the Anti-social side of life. I have seldom been comfortable in Social situations. Dinners, informal social gatherings, meetings, just about anything in excess of two people. I am highly dependent on my wife to guide me through those situations. One example is that I always have her in front of me during the visitation line after a funeral service. Her actions guide my behavior. I am uncomfortable with exposing my life. That is why this blog is infrequent and a oxymoron (Wada and blog). I am currently struggling with Facebook. I was tricked into Facebook by a cousin (thanks Grace). She sent out a notification of pictures posted on Facebook. Little did I know that in order to view them, I had to create a Facebook account. My curiosity won out. I freaked when I found out that when I post something new or update my profile, notifications go out to all of my "friends" Of course according to Facebook, it is all nine of them. I don't request friends, but if someone requests if of me, I accept. Who am I to deny someone the privilege of viewing my life of in- activity. I gave in to LinkedIn as part of my professional development and now I am slowly sliding down the slippery slope of Facebook. The other side of the coin is that my wife is not to thrilled with this blog. Some have commented to her on my writing, and she then requested editing rights. That is why I write this late at night while she sleeps. I have to be especially careful in the pictures I post. Her sense of humor tends to fade when it borders on public embarrassment. On the other hand, I am still struck by other folk's life story. I have a quote from Bill Clinton. “ I learned that everybody has a story but not everyone can tell it”. Facebook only gives you glimpses into their story. What is reason why they chose a certain dish to order and photograph? How did they meet the friends in the picture and what continues to tie them together? What is it about that specific point of time in their life that compelled them to post it for public view? When I view a Facebook page, I see a title page of the story of their life.

Second in Line

Conversations about birth order bring out some interesting inherent perspectives. All of a sudden the suppressed emotions of #2s become evident and the usual response from #1s are of disregard or dismissal. Dad, mom and Grandma have a more difficult time understanding the #2 position while Grandpa and Jordan emotionally comprehend as we gaze upon the next generation #2. Emerson Daniel entered the world with a calm expectation on July 22nd. Jordan has established a deep connection with Emerson stating that Wada #2s must unite. As a grandparent, we are committed to not favoring one grandchild over another (ok, don't quote me if we ever blessed with a grand daughter, Cam and Emerson are both boys in the male dominant Wada lineage).

Wada boys

There is a saying within the Wada family that Wada boys beget Wada boys. We are thrilled to announce the arrival of Emerson Daniel Wada. Born July 22nd, 7:55am 6lbs. 5oz 18.5 inches. Mother and Emerson are doing well.

By the way…...

Tomorrow (this morning) the daughter in law will be going in for a scheduled C section, marking the birth of Grandson #2. Yes Wada boys still beget Wada boys. The daughter in law has also conceded to the Wada fact of life. She says this is it for her contribution to the next Wada generation. It baffles me at the process and mind set of the scheduled C section. The son and daughter in law have just gone on with their life treating the event like an appointment, which I guess it is. There seems to be no thought that the child might be an early arrival. Even though Jeff was a C section, it was unscheduled and an event that occurred after hours of labor. I remember the staff throwing the monitors onto the hospital bed and rolling the bed out like we were at NASCAR racing down the hospital hallway. But for each son (all three) it was more like guessing the lottery as to when they will decide to leave the confines of the womb into the this crazy world. #1 was late, #2 early and #3 real early. #1 had his cord wrapped around his neck and facing the wrong way (breeched?). #2 was jaundiced and had to remain in an incubator for 3 days. I remember him screaming as they tried to find a vein in his newly exposed arm for a IV. Which explains his disposition and wanting to be a lawyer. #3 was 5 weeks early, had to be resuscitated by his mom when he stopped breathing and was hooked up to a heart monitor for a year. Our family was not exactly planned by us (OK, me), in my opinion it just happened. With Jeff, it seems part of a predetermined plan. It is surreal to me in that it is almost a " Hey dad, what are you up to? By the way, don't forget we are having the baby tomorrow, 7:30am. Can you make it?

Comedians and Pastors

If any one would ever ask who I admire most, it probably would not be someone, but comedians. I once heard the story of a comedian walking into a theater amonst all the people prepping for a variety show. Stage hands, musicains, singers, etc. He comes in with a small brief case. He opens it, and pulls out a microphone, hooks it up and tests it. He then looks around for a chair and finds a folding chair. He then puts away his mic and walks out. That was his preparation. But that is not his only prep. It is years of standing in front of people, some drunk, most not paying attention, trying to make them laugh with words. And it is not just the craft of takign his observations and constructing his material to deliver, but also the timing of delivery. As a college youth, my hobby was watching televison preachers. They to me were the equivelent of comedians. Crafting a message for a certain reaction. Each had their own style of delivery. Where I am going with this, is that most preachers concentrate on the message, similar to a teacher. They study and prep to ensure their message is delivered and hopefully received. Some take a little different approach. The old time Nisei preachers always started their sermon with a joke. No kidding. That joke would seque way into the message. A lot of preachers supplement their preaching with the prep of worship songs to set the mood and music to enhance or manipulate. Did I say manipulate? Somehow, in these times, I am waiting to hear a preacher that delivers similar to a comedian. One of my favorite shows is Comedians driving cars and getting coffee. It is just comedians talking to Jerry Seinfeld. One point that comes across for each comedian is that their craft is based off of truth. At times it is absurd, at other times it is painful but cuttingly accurate. My proposal is that we start Pastors driving cars and getting coffee. Maybe then, we can better understand where they get the jokes and how it ties into their mission in life. Their craft is based of of truth, and at times it is absurd, but hopefully always accurate.

Memories

Three years and I still remember the following: The walk from the ER parking lot to the emergency room is longer than it looks. Call 911, you get immediate medical attention. I have been told a lot of folks don't make it from home to the hospital when driving themselves. Excuse me sir, please take a number and wait for it to be called.....It was a good thing there was no line at the ER desk. Paramedics will take you right in, no waiting in line When you tell them you think you are having a heart attack, they whisk you in fast., Uh I need to wait for my wife, she is parking the car, you don't want to see my health insurance card? They don't take away your phone, You can text while laying down in between tests. I had to text people that I couldn't fulfill some obligations the next day.  Nonchalantly mentioning I'm in ER. You are where? Word spreads fast. ER as in hospital? Relatives with similar history A cousin had a heart attack two weeks earlier. Uh Oh, maybe it is in the genes... Stress test is not a sure thing. Had one six months earlier, no problems or indications of problems. The Internet is not always correct. I looked up symptoms on heart attacks and met only one, kind of. A will in case of unexpected death vs. trusting the courts to take care of your family in probate. A friend comes by and draws one up while waiting for bypass surgery. Still not sure what I signed. By the way, did I sign a DNR? Critical Care Nurses are Angels You lay there and trust their care. "You want to do what? OK." Friends will always find a way to sneak in. "He didn't want visitors? That's OK, I'm a relative" Physical Therapists are the gym teacher from middle school. You want me to walk how far? Now? Technology is amazing. Couldn't keep track of the number of machines and tubes hooked up to me. Just hoped they had a good back up generator in case of a power outage. Night was the worst. Quiet, dark, and alone. Listening to the other patients moan and cry out for help. Waiting, not sure for what. Listening for that rumble of the portable xray machine and the cold plates 5am each morning. Breathing tube the worst. Gayle had to climb on the bed to get me to breath enough to allow them to remove the damn thing. It is worse when you wake up and realize it is down your throat. Withdrawing the catheter was worst than inserting it. Could be the drugs. Family members are invaluable Prayer essential Wife always there, giving me that look of "you better not leave me, get up". The white light at the end of the tunnel in the afterlife is the light above the operating table. Note: the stainless steel operating table is not heated. Attendants are like the New York City Taxi drivers, they maneuver the hospital beds through the aisles, corners and elevators with skill and ease with no bumps. Sheets are for moving patients from bed to where ever, lie still, one, two, three.......... Walking becomes like a toddler, wobbling down the hall while everyone watches carefully. Realizing that 56 is kind of young to have a heart attack and bypass surgery. Hospital food is ......hospital food. My apologies to the dietitians. Oh wait, I forgot I need to get diapers and make the care home payment for the stepdad. Get me the checkbook. Quadruple bypass surgery, pills, kiloid chest scar, but the constant daily reminder is the leg where they took out the vein. Being able to see my Grandson, looking forward to seeing all future Grand children (You guys paying attention?)

Empty Nest and socks

Everyone talks about the day they become Empty Nesters. The day where you no longer have kids at home. #2 is up in Seattle entering his first year at University of Washington Law, #3 returning for his sophomore year at Westmont. What do we do now? Sort socks. We are going through years of assorted socks from the laundry and throwing them out. It finally dawned on us that the cost of replacement was minimal compared to keeping piles of them tucked away. Of course the wife has been caught digging some out of the trash. But really, socks? Then there is the Costco Chicken. For five bucks, you can get a whole chicken, but now it lasts, and lasts and lasts all week. Juices, apples, toothpaste, I end up splitting and sharing with the grandson. A pot of rice (2 cups) usually ends up spoiling before we eat it all. A pound of coffee lasts forever now that #2 is gone. And if you think that an empty nest means getting rid of things, it actually means you add more stuff. Anything reminds you of those no longer at home. You can't throw that out, that was his fourth grade report. Or that was the trophy he won for participating in class. Then you purchase stuff that they would like, but never send. Oh he can use those thermal socks that have sitting there since last winter. Actually my strategy is to leave stuff at ground level, so the dog will bury it in the back yard. Eventually the lawnmower will chew it up and dump it in the trash can. Empty nest just means you find less objectionable ways of disposing of things. Hey, anyone see my classic Nikes?

Rolling Oldies

Time goes on. I turned 60 not too long ago. At one time, I was barely eligible for senior discounts, now I easily qualify. It does have an affect on you mentally. Realisticly, 3/4 of my life has been lived in Wada men years. I recognize my limitations more, or at least forced to recognize them. My projects take longer as I have to break them up into smaller time frames, I can not longer tolerate extreme weather, and I am not able to keep up with the grandson without sharing nap times. The most telling indicator of my age is that my mental filter has exceeded its capacity. I am more prone to say what is on my mind. That in itself is what scares the wife more than anything. My views on life are based on experience (old man stories) and have trouble understanding the young ones. Then I find myself repeating what I just said. You can tell by the expression of the younger folks faces. But the most disturbing fact about getting old is that my music has faded from the airwaves. At one time the local oldies played 60 and 70s music, then it was the mid seventies, and now the 80s. As time goes on, they just keep cutting off the older years and adding the next decade. If I want to listen to music of my youth, I now have to watch PBS and sit through those damn pledge breaks. When I go to church, I don't recognize the worship songs. The songs of my youth in church have all but disappeared. Even the hymns that I found antiquated are dearly missed. The old question of if a tree falls in the forest, does it make a noise? Well if they no longer play the songs, did they ever exist? Only in my memories. Did I mention that it exists in my mind?