Showing posts with label Dave. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dave. Show all posts

Monday, February 6, 2012

Day 3: At the Wall

Today was the third day of the Run Across Palestine. For some unknown reason, Dave didn't send me a text while I was sleeping last night and my day was almost over when I finally heard from him. I had been pretty concerned most of the day, because, let's face it, the Middle East isn't exactly the safest place in the world and their group has already had one run in with Israeli military. But his text to me and his Facebook posting below put my mind at ease.

Here's what Dave had to say on Facebook:
Today, our third leg, approximately 27 miles. We all did very well, that is until the very end. The 6 miles inside Jerusalem was smooth, as was going through the wall. Having never seen the Berlin wall, I can only speculate as to its similarities, but how different can 16 -20 ft masses of concrete and barbed wire be. Once beyond the wall Reuters or the AP, not sure, wanted to interview Meryl, and she did a great job. I think I can speak for us all when I say that running was much better after the wall. Lots of support and encouragement from so many people we passed, literally hundreds, maybe thousands. I'm sure I have never greeted so many people in a day. As I said earlier the end was not easy. After gradual long climbs and slow descents we came upon a beautiful view from what seemed to be the highest point for miles only to see a very long descent leading to the steepest climb so far. Thankfully we were meet by some of the people and children of Arura that ran the last leg with us. We were greeted warmly, lots of cheers, hand shaking and good will, even the governor of Ramallah was on hand. The ladies of the town prepared a wonderful dinner of chicken, couscous, and soup, perfect after our run, which we shared with town elders. Finally, we met our hosts for the night. Josh and I slept at a home even higher up the hillside where we could see the lights of Tel Aviv and the nighttime darkness of the Mediterranean Sea. This will be spectacular in the morning. Before bed we shared good conversation and we were brought to a neighbors house where Josh jammed with new friends. After 4 days I have learned much, to much to tell it all here, but with absolute certainty I can say there are no invented people here, only real people.
Here's the new video about the day.



And check out this amazing picture of Dave in front of the wall dividing Palestine and Israel.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Run Across Palestine: Day 1 "Not So Fast" and Day 2 Update

Here's the video of Run Across Palestine's encounter with the Israeli military. Once again, Dave and the entire group are fine. I'm so proud of my brother for being involved in such a worthy cause and helping change the world through peace.


As I write this morning, the run on Day 2 is over. I heard from Dave a few hours ago.
We just arrived in Jerusalem. Today was a longer run. Maybe 17-18 miles. Tomorrow probably 26 lies. It has all felt quite safe. Our connections here have taken good care of us.
Frankly, I'm incredibly jealous that my brother is seeing the epicenter of the world's three major religions: Christianity, Judaism, and Islam. So incredibly powerful. I can only wonder if he'll come back feeling differently about religion.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Run Across Palestine: At the Starting Line & Day 1 of the Run

Here's the next installment of The People and the Olive, At the Starting Line. It's about the planting of 500 olive trees the day before the run began and included interviews with some of the runners, including Dave. Then at the 2:30ish mark, you'll see him planting an olive tree. Note the look of joy on his face. I honestly don't remember the last time I've seen that much pure organic joy on my brother's face.


As I write this, Day 1 of the Run is over. I'm honestly not sure how far they got today, but from the article below, it doesn't sound like far. What I can tell you, from the article and from the text message I received from Dave early this morning is that everyone is fine now and that the "food and hospitality have been great" (from Dave's text). He also says he's having a great experience.

From the Glen Arbor Sun:
February 4, 2012
Project supporter, two French activists arrested; runners continue

BEIT OMAR, Palestine — The Run Across Palestine had gone no more than 10 kilometers between At-Tuwani and Beit Omar, in the southern West Bank, when the Israeli military and border control stopped the run in its tracks. Confusion over whether the runners had the right to walk on the side of the road culminated in the arrest of Run Across Palestine supporter Nasser Abufarha and two French activists. No reason was given for the arrests, and no reason was given for why the run was stopped.

The Run Across Palestine is a project of Michigan-based On the Ground to support Palestinian fair-trade olive farmers. The Run is scheduled to complete 129 miles over five days, between the Hebron Hills in the southern West Bank and Jenin in the north. The runners are staying in olive farming communities along the way. The initial delegation of 10 Americans, including six runners, three journalists and one musician arrived in At-Tuwani yesterday to a joyous community celebration that included planting olive trees, speeches, theater presentations, live music and dancing. Palestinians, French and other foreign nationals joined the run today.

Almost immediately after leaving At-Tuwani, a Palestinian village next to two Israeli settlements that are deemed illegal according to the United Nations, Israeli soldiers stopped and questioned the runners. It quickly became clear to the runners that the authorities didn’t have laws opposed to, or a policy relating to, foreigners running along public highways. Nevertheless, the runners were told that if a single participant touched the pavement, Abufarha, a Palestinian-U.S. dual citizen, would be arrested.

No more than 2 kilometers later, at the top of a hill overlooking the West Bank’s vast olive groves, Israeli military and border control vehicles stopped the Americans, French and Palestinians again, though they had not stepped on the pavement. Reinforcements arrived, increasing the police force to approximately 15. The Americans’ passports were temporarily confiscated, Abufarha was arrested and driven away by the police, and calls were made to the Palestine Solidarity Network in Beit Omar to bring the passports of the three French citizens. Two of the passports were located, but the Israeli soldiers grew impatient when the third couldn’t be found, and arrested two of the French activists, Florian and Tomas, who locked arms while lying on the ground and were forcibly dragged into a police vehicle. Immediately after the French citizens were driven away, the third passport was located.

Abufarha and the French activists were all released later in the day. Abufarha was charged by the Israelis with “ordering an illegal demonstration and march” even though he didn’t organize the run, which wasn’t political in nature.

Reuters photographers and videographers, Run Across Palestine’s media team and a smattering of other journalists documented the entire scene, which took place over two hours. Shortly after the Israeli military left, the runners took busses up the road, and then resumed their run.

“Why is it that we’re allowed to run on roads in any other country in the world, but not here?” asked Chris Treter, runner and organizer of the Run Across Palestine. “What’s different about this country?”

Last year, for example, On the Ground organized the Run Across Ethiopia, which featured 10 U.S. runners logging 250 miles over 10 days to raise money for, and awareness surrounding, fair-trade coffee farmers in Yirgachefe. The event raised approximately $200,000 to build three schools in the impoverished rural region. That run, in January 2010, was without incident, and featured hundreds of Ethiopian farmers and children running together with the American ultra-marathoners. Not so in the Holy Land.

The Run Across Palestine is a complement to the Run Across Ethiopia. In the politically volatile West Bank, 45 percent of arable land is devoted to growing olive trees, employing some 100,000 Palestinian farmers. Hundreds of thousands of olive trees have been uprooted in recent years by the Israeli military and Israeli settlers.

Videos of the arrests to come soon. Follow news from the Run Across Palestine at www.RunAcrossPalestine.org.

Friday, February 3, 2012

Run Across Palestine - Day 1 Before the Run


As I write this, my brother Dave is starting his 3rd day in Israel and Palestine and is preparing to run the first of five marathons he is running through Palestine over the next five days.

Dave is one of a handful of runners from Northern Michigan participating in the Run Across Palestine, an effort to raise money and awareness for olive farmers in Palestine, where olive farming is the backbone of the economy. As they run throughout the country (?), they'll donate 500 olive plants in each village and even help plant them in many of them.

Some highlights of journey include:

Day 1 begins in At-Tuwani, a small village in the Southern Hebron Hills where many people live in caves. They will end the day in Beit Ummar.

Day 3 finds them in East Jerusalem including the Old City and some of the holiest places to Judiasm, Christianity, and Islam, such as Temple Mount, Western Wall, Al-Aqsa Mosque, & the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

This morning I received an email with the video below which gave me a far greater understanding and appreciation for the journey Dave is on and the impact his trip will have on families for generations. I think you'll be moved too. I've said it before and I"ll say it again: Words don't do justice to how proud I am of my brother and his desire to make the world a better place.


Wednesday, October 5, 2011

October 5: International Dave Gardner Day!

This is one of my all-time favorite pictures of Dave. I'm guessing he's in high school here, but I don't know for sure. It was taken by his friend Maura Ardam and used with permission.

Thirty-seven years ago today, my parents gave me the greatest gift in the world. They gave me a little brother named Dave.

Now, although I wanted a puppy or a Barbie doll and, at first, I wasn't exactly fond of him (there's the whole alleged Thanksgiving Incident of 1974, but we don't talk about that), I came to discover that his value far exceeds that of a puppy and Barbie doll combined.

Dave is my biggest cheerleader and I am his. He's usually my first phone call when I have good news and he's my rock when things aren't so good. He's adventurous and fun and challenges me to be better. And even though there are times he continues to push when I'm happy with the status quo, I've come to realize that he only does it because he can often see bigger and better for me than I can in the moment.

Simply put, Dave is the greatest brother in the world and for his birthday, I declare it International Dave Gardner Day! Everyone should be so blessed to have a brother like him. Not him (he's mine), but like him.

Please join me in celebrating my brother Dave. You can wish him Happy Birthday in the comments.

Happy Happy Birthday Dave! Happy International Dave Gardner Day! I love you!

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Letters to Nana

Today as I was working on cleaning out Nana's house (it seems like a never-ending process), I found two letters, one each from Dave and me, she'd saved for almost 30 years.

First mine. To set it up, I typed it in 1985, when I was a high shool freshman. I took typing as an elective my first semester and it looks like I typed it at school.
November 3, 1985

Dear Nana,

How are you? I'm fine. School is a lot of fun! I really like it. My classes are pretty interesting and my teachers aren't bad either. My favorite classes are French 1 and Geometry Fast. I'm getting an A in French and a B in Geometry, but it's 2% points from an A. I was pretty happy about the rest of my grades too. They got me on the
honor roll.

David's were just as good as mine, if not better. He made the honor roll too. He got straight B's, which is about what I got my first nine weeks in junior high. He was pretty proud. Soccer is over for the fall season. Now he's playing basketball. He's pretty good at it too. Winter soccer starts sometime next month. He's looking forward to it.

Mom starts work tomorrow, and is looking forward to it, I think. I know she is nervous, but she will do fine. I know I'm looking forward to it. Sometimes we get on each others nerves. I know she is going to do a great job in commercial real estate. I'm really proud of my mom, she always does a great job in whatever she tries to do. It isn't whether or not people like what she does, it's whether or not she keeps trying until someone realizes that she has good ideas. My mom is not a quitter. She keeps working hard for what she believes in. I'm very proud of her!

Marching band is now over for the fall season. It's very cold and no one likes marching in the cold. At our last competition, we received 4th place for marching and music out of 11 bands that were there. We got 1st place out of 180 marching units for festival spirit, which we didn't even work on. It was a fall festival for the town of Sycamore, IL. We won because of our wonderful use of colors. Our school colors are brown and orange, so we all had on brown and orange and had lots of festival spirit!

Love,

Jessica

Obviously, then, like now, I wasn't afraid to say exactly what I was thinking.

David's letter was written 11 years later and was a postcard from Hawaii. If I remember correctly, this was when he was living in San Francisco and he and his roommates flew to Hawaii for a last-minute getaway. My favorite part is that rather than addressing it "Mrs. Frances Paulk" at her post office box, he simply addressed it "Nana" at her PO box.

Nana,

I knew I got a postcard for you. I cleaned my room today and found it. I'm sorry I didn't send it from Hawaii. I went to this spot. The picture doesn't do it justice. And it's too bad you can't see the trail that takes you out to this point. That was just as amazing as the point. It was very narrow and surrounded by a thick rainforest.

I love you Nana.

David


She didn't save all the letters we sent, so I guess these especially touched
her. I know they touched me reading them today.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Happy Birthday Dave!


Today is my brother Dave's birthday. I would tell you how old he is, but then you'd have a clue about my real age and I'm happy to have you believe I'm 29.

I'm so incredibly grateful that Dave is my brother and although I was, at one point, inclined to trade him in for a better model (cut me some slack, I was 4 when I attempted this), I've decided he's a keeper.

When I was in college, Dave built me a loft that was not only strong enough to survive an earthquake, but was one that I would not roll out of because it was considerably wider than the mattress so if I started to roll out (it happened), I would hit the platform first.

For my twenty-first birthday, Dave made me a silver pendant of two people connected and standing next to each other. At first, I thought it was a lovely pendant and was touched that he'd given me a piece of his artwork, but then I discovered that he specifically made this piece for me and wrote a paper about it for his English class. According to his paper, the two people represented us and the bond we share; the way we always took care of each other and the role played in each others lives. I sobbed like a baby when I read these words that, as a 17 year old high school kid, he could not say out loud.

To this day, Dave always carves out a couple of days in the fall to help me get the house ready for winter and whenever he's in town, he generously offers to fix anything I need done. He even gave me a new water heater for my birthday this year. Really. No one else should think that's a good gift to give me, but from Dave, it's perfect. When my neighbor's tree fell on my backyard fence and shed a few years ago in an awful storm, Dave put aside his own plans to move to Michigan and spent an entire day taking down the tree when they refused to do it. He did it so carefully that nothing was damaged and it saved me a ton of money.

Dave motivates me to be better by challenging me to hike Baldy and keep going when I think I won't make it, kayak, and swim to BooHoo. Rather than ever berating me for being slow or needing a break, he shows the patience of Job and always makes me feel great about my accomplishments. No one believes in me and pushes me to step outside my comfort zone the way Dave does.

So go over to Facebook and wish David W. Gardner a very happy birthday. No one deserves a great day like Dave!

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Love in a Non-Descript Brown Cardboard Box

Thanks to the dominance of email, texting, Facebook, instant messaging (do people use that anymore?), Twitter, and maybe even smoke signals, my mailbox (and yours too, probably) is usually filled only with junk mail and bills (in that order). It's not often that I receive an actual card or letter or package that I didn't initiate. In fact, I think my birthday and Christmas are about the only times I receive fun mail that I didn't specifically request (e.g., purchase from Amazon).

So imagine my surprise when my doorbell rang today around noon and there was my mailman saying he had a package for me. Since my birthday was almost a month ago, I couldn't figure out what surprise might be in his hands.

I retrieved the brown cardboard box and noted the return address was Amazon. But I hadn't ordered anything from Amazon . . . I thought. I opened the very heavy package to discover How to Cook Everything, Completely Revised Tenth Edition: 2,000 Simple Recipes for Great Food by Mark Bittman, which left me even more confused. My mind quickly raced back to my window shopping spree last night on Amazon when I was looking at cookbooks. Specifically, I was looking at Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking for an upcoming blog post. I also perused a few other cookbooks, but didn't remember buying anything. Or did I? Upon further investigation, I found the packing slip and discovered that my brother Dave sent me the book on Monday. Talk about speedy delivery.


Later this evening, I had the chance to speak to Dave and thank him for the wonderful surprise. He said that he knows how much I love to cook and that he heard about the book on NPR on Monday (I couldn't find the story he heard. Maybe it was a repeat of this story.) and thought I'd enjoy it. How cool is that?

I have to say that this is the best cookbook I've ever owned. While it doesn't have pretty pictures of perfect looking foods, it has drawings of how to do things like shucking clams and removing a mussel beard. How to drawings are so much more useful than pretty pictures. I mean sure it's great to know what a dish should look like (in comparison to how it actually looks), but knowing the difference between slicing, dicing, julienne, roll cut, and chiffonade is priceless! I could have used those skills in the summer of 1991 when I worked in the kitchen at Watervale, but better late than never.

What's even better is that I'm having guests for dinner this weekend and maybe early next week too. So they'll be guinea pigs for my new mad cooking skills.

Do I have the coolest brother or what?

Friday, April 16, 2010

Superman Gets Detentions?

Let me just state upfront that I know that when Dave gets wind of this post (which may take a little while because despite having been the 8th fan of Little Merry Sunshine on Facebook, he does not actually read Little Merry Sunshine with any regularity), he will probably kill me, but this story is just too good not to share. It's even possible that it's better than the famous Herpes Story (which I've now brought up twice in two days).

When Dave was little (3 years old or so to . . . ), he was obsessed with Superman. In fact, obsessed may well be an understatement. Dave pretty much thought he was Superman. He loved to dress up as Superman and even stole my blue tights and red boots I'd outgrown to wear with his Superman Underroos. Plus, our mom, who was a terrific seamstress (a talent she learned from Nana), sewed him the perfect Superman cape. Believe me, this was no made-in-China-falls-apart-after-2-wearings cape. This cape is still around and in good shape 30 years later. I could tell you where it is, but I would never give away Superman's secrets. Where did Dave go to become Superman, you wonder? Like you have to ask. Of course, he went into his "phone booth" formerly known as Dave's bedroom closet. Yes, it had a sign designating it as his phone booth.

Dave ran around the house and neighborhood in full Superman costume anytime he could. In fact, he usually wore part of his costume under real clothes. He simply loved being Superman.

One day when Dave was in pre-school, our mom received a phone call from the teacher to discuss Dave's behavior in class. It seems that day had been a Show and Tell day. When it was his turn, Dave got up appearing to have nothing to show his class. The teachers were at the back of the room, possibly only half paying attention, when all the sudden they heard him announce that he needed to undress to show the class what he'd brought for Show and Tell. In a panic, worried that he was about to disrobe, they flew to the front of the room to prevent him from stripping. Calmly, and unaware of what they were obviously thinking, Dave simply informed them and his class that he just wanted to let everyone know he was Superman (so I guess he had their backs?) and prove it by showing off the Superman costume that he was wearing in its entirety under his street clothes (a la Clark Kent?). Unconvinced, they did not allow him to show off his alter-ego.

I wish I could show you pictures of Dave in costume, but I don't have any pictures that are scanned. Believe me, if I had them, I'd post them. They're that good.

I tell you this story because yesterday, there was a feature on Huffington Post titled "Punished for Being Awesome? The Most Ridiculous Detention Slips of All Time" and it was complete with pictures. Offenses ranged from a student correcting a teacher's error in front of the class to a student receiving oral sex from another student. Yes, really. My favorite, however, was the detention slip pictured below. I honestly have to believe it may have been written for Dave about 30 years too late. What kind of teacher gives Superman a detention, anyway?

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

35 Days to Manifest My Dream

It took me just 35 days. Thirty-five days from the day I said I was going to climb Baldy again this summer to turn that dream/goal into reality.

You may recall my blog post on March 1st called "The Power of the Dream" in which I listed some of my personal dreams and goals. One of those goals was to climb Baldy again in August when I am at Watervale. Climbing Baldy is a feat and one that I don't undertake very often. For a variety of reasons, I hadn't climbed it since 2004, and to be honest, I wasn't sure I was in good enough physical shape to do it. So I had a plan to 2-3 miles a day or more from the beginning of March until I arrived at Watervale in August and that would give me the strength I needed to climb those last two hills and survive.

What I didn't count on was being at Watervale over Easter and Dave deciding that Easter morning would be as good of a time as any to tackle this goal. I can't tell you that I enthusiastically jumped on the idea on Sunday morning. Saturday had been spent in a slug-like manner involving NPR, beer, and a nap, followed by a relatively easy and short walk, a glorious sunset, and a fantastic Thai dinner at The Fusion, where we ate way too much. In fact, my initial response was something along the lines of "Hell no! Are you out of your mind?" He assured me he was dead serious and we were leaving momentarily, so I'd better find some clothes or I'd be going in my slippers and pj's.

We set off on our hike of death, which I'm fairly certain involved a plot to kill me so he could avoid paying me back for the trip to Costco, and all was fine as long as the ground was flat. Once the hills arrived, however, I became convinced this was no longer fun, in spite of the beauty of seeing nature come back to life after a long winter.

This is the sort of first big hill I hiked. But you can see how gentle the slope was, which made it pretty easy. I'd say this reflects about the first 2/3 of the hike.
This was the first major obstacle. Notice the incline. What made it tolerable, though, was the fact that it was pretty solid dirt covered with leaves, so my feet weren't sinking into anything.
Dave pretty much ran to the top, while I took my time, coughing my way to the top (I'm still recovering from a cold last week) and not sure my lungs, still filled with cold-ick, would hold out. Once I reached the top, I knew it was all uphill from here, with just a couple level places allowing me to catch my breath before the final two hills.

Before we get to those hills, I thought this tree was cool.
At this point, Dave assured me we're pretty close to the top and I was doing great, as I grew more convinced that he just remembered that I have life insurance and he's the beneficiary.

Not one to recoil from a challenge once I've committed to it, I stared down the 2nd to the last hill determined to show it who's boss (that'd be me . . . I hoped). You'll notice it's all sand at this point. You're probably thinking that it looks easy, but I assure you that looks are deceiving. This hill actually has about a 35 degree incline, according to Dave. You also don't really see how it curves to the left. What's tricky about this is the sand and how my feet were constantly sinking. That and there's really not much to grab onto for leverage.
When I was almost at the top, I turned around to document how far I'd come. I think you have a better appreciation of the challenge I faced.
But look at what I still had ahead of me. It's almost a vertical climb. I pondered how best to do this - in the summer, I'd take off my shoes and do it barefoot, but the sand is still cold and a bit damp, so that seems unlikely. The other question was would I be able to remain vertical and not climb using my hands.
Dave was patiently waiting at the top with the bottles of water and Gatorade, so I had no choice but to take a deep breath and get up that hill.

I'm proud to tell you that I did remain upright, although I did grab hold of the tree you see on the left to keep my balance. Now, at this point, you'd think you'd be finished. That you'd reached the top. And you'd be wrong.

I always forget about what comes next: the last hill, which entirely sand without the benefit of trees or roots in the sand to give you footing. To say it is hellish is an understatement. This hill makes my calves and thighs burn like nothing I've ever experienced. Actually, I liken it to what I've heard childbirth is like - more painful than anything in the world, but you miraculously forget the pain so you do it again.
The good news is that you do have about 50 yards to catch your breath before you tackle the last hill. As you see above, there are actually two paths. We always take the one on the left. It takes you to the top of Baldy. The one on the right takes you around it. Dave offered me the option, but since I don't back down from a fight, I said I was going to tough it out and take the path on the left. I handed Dave my camera so that if I lost my balance, I wouldn't ruin it and he sprinted to the top leaving me to fend for myself. I wouldn't have it any other way.

I'm proud to tell you that I survived. And not only did I survive, but I conquered. I made it about 3/4 the way up the last hill, which is about 50 feet tall with at least a 35 degree incline, on my feet and without using my hands. I finally gave in and used my hands to assist me in the climb until my feet gave out and I literally crawled the last 7-8 feet on my hands and knees.
When I reached the top, I will tell you I had tears in my eyes. I really didn't think I could climb this dune, but I did. I accomplished, what I believed to be the impossible. I'll never run the Chicago Marathon, but I'm really proud to have conquered this challenge. Climbing Baldy always reminds me that I can do anything I set my mind to and that if I just pace myself and keep putting one foot in front of the other, I'll get there eventually. Climbing Baldy isn't about competing with anyone else or caring what anyone else thinks. It's about me and pushing myself beyond what I think I can do.

And here was my reward. That's Lower Herring Lake on the right and Lake Michigan on the left. In my humble opinion, it's the best view in all of Michigan.
Oh, and as for the pain and huffing and puffing involved in hiking Baldy, it's all forgotten the instant I turn around and see this view. You can bet I'll be back up Baldy in August. And in the meantime, I'll be walking a lot so it hurts less. I almost forgot, it turns out that Dave wasn't trying to kill me after all. He just has more faith in me than I have sometimes. And for that, I'm grateful beyond words.

I wonder what else I can manifest in just 35 short days . . .

Monday, October 5, 2009

Happy Birthday Dave!

Dave, Linda, Me, and our Dad at Watervale in 2005.

Thirty-five years ago today, God brought me a little brother whom my parents named David, over my very loud protests and requests to name him Bozo.

I'll be honest, at first, David, now Dave, wasn't exactly my cup of tea. Our parents had promised me that Dave would be a great playmate, but I learned the hard way . . . not so much. One day, shortly before his first Thanksgiving, when Mom thought Dave was napping and I was playing quietly in my room, she heard a gut wrenching shriek. She rushed to Dave's nursery where she found me sitting in his crib with him and he was just letting out these blood-curdling howls. Oh, and he also had teeth marks on his cheek. Mom took one look at me and wanted to know what had happened, as though there would be any explanation that would get me out of the severe punishment that was awaiting me. Innocently, I told her that Dave and I were playing Thanksgiving and he was the turkey. We never played that game again and I'm pretty sure it was a day or two before I was able to sit comfortably.

Not to worry, Dave got me back, about 6 years later when I was 10 and he announced to everyone at Dillard's that I did not need any undershirts (Nana had taken us school clothes shopping) because I wore now a bra.

No, we were not fast friends. In fact, for many years, we were more akin to mortal enemies.

I guess it was when we got to be teenagers that we finally started to like each other. And now I can honestly tell you that Dave is not just my little brother, he's also one of my closest friends.

If I got to hand pick my brother, Dave would be the guy. Dave is fun and smart. He's really down-to-earth and he's the guy you want in a crisis. He stays calm when I freak out. He's really damn handy with fixing things and has all sorts of knowledge I don't have. He's an amazing athlete. He owns his own business, Crystal Skylights & Solarlighting, and can build anything. And I've heard he's pretty good looking too.

Happy Birthday Dave! You are not only my only brother, but you are the best brother I could ever want to have, and I hope this is the best year of your life.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Fabulous Birthdays Through the Years

The most beautiful birthday flowers in the world.

You may have heard that today is my birthday. It's true. I'm 25. Wait, that part might not be true.

Over the years, I'm had some pretty extraordinary birthdays.

Because my birthday is in mid-June, it always fell right after school let out for the summer. Many years, we would hop on a plane on June 15th and I'd wake up at Nana's house on my birthday. I'd come downstairs for a special birthday breakfast with the whole family and then usually off to the beach. I grew up believing the only way to celebrate my birthday was to go on vacation.

My 18th birthday arrived just days after my high school graduation. Nana was in town for the big occasion and I got three of my girlfriends together and we all went into Chicago for lunch and a Wendella boat ride. It was freezing cold (even colder than it was today), overcast and windy and although we were dressed warmly, the wind still made it uncomfortable. Nana asked the Wendella folks if they had any big plastic garbage bags that we could use as rain/wind slickers. It was actually a great idea!

Janet, Cheryl, Me, and Cindy (l-r) on the Wendella Boats using plastic garbage bags to block the wind.
Yes, I gave Sally Jessy Rapheal her glasses back.


I celebrated my 20th birthday at Watervale and because this is supposedly a family blog, I can't describe the debauchery that ensued. Let's just say that it didn't hurt things at all that the Bulls had just won their first NBA Championship.

In 1992, I turned 21 with the help of my good friends Heather and Emilie, and Michael, Scottie, and the rest of the Chicago Bulls. Heather and I spent the day in Chicago at the Bulls Championship Rally in Grant Park and then window shopping on the Mag Mile. After taking the train back to Lake Forest, I drank at The Lantern for the first time. That was also the year Dave surprised me with the sterling silver pendant he made of the two of us. An incredible day.

1993 found me in Washington DC without my friends or family. I spent the day wandering around Georgetown and then watched the Bulls win Game 4 of the NBA Finals over the Phoenix Suns on a date. Of course, the Bulls went on to win their third NBA Championship days later.

I spent my 25th birthday reading the subliminal messages Michael was sending me through his stellar performance in the winning game of the Bulls 4th NBA Championship.

I turned 27 in 1998 and was in Chicago for the Bulls 6th and final NBA Championship. The night before my birthday, Christopher and I were in the stands at Wrigley Field watching Kerry Wood pitch a nailbiter and Sammy Sosa start his home run streak by hitting 3 that night as they beat the Milwaukee Brewers 6-5. On my birthday, I celebrated with a few hundred thousand of my closest friends in Grant Park as we celebrated the Bulls and witnessed the end of an era. When I arrived back in DC on the 17th, I was surprised by my friends at a party at the rooftop bar at the Hotel Washington.

When I turned 30, Dave surprised me by flying to Chicago for the weekend. My dad also came to town and when I got up that morning, my lawn was filled with 30 plastic pink flamingos! I'm sorry I don't have pictures.

And then there was today. Today was fabulous. Words can't express my gratitude for all the joy and love I felt today. I got to talk to Nana, which was the highlight of my day. I heard from friends all over the country and friends in my neighborhood. God, I love the birthday reminder on Facebook! Emails even poured in tonight from my mom's childhood friends! Local friends surprised me with many delights. And my dad started his new job today.

I have had some amazing birthdays throughout the years, but today was the best. My gratitude list is long and I'm putting my head on my pillow tonight secure in the knowledge of who I love and who loves me. Words can't begin to express how full my heart is tonight.

Thank you.

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Think You Know Everything About Me? You Don't

I keep getting tagged on Facebook with the “25 Random Things About Me” meme, even though I did it the other day. So in honor of my friends who missed my answers the first time, here are 25 more completely random things about me.

1. My favorite decadent treat is these amazing little individual caramels from Lake Forest Food and Wine. Whenever I’m in Lake Forest, I stop by and buy them 10 or more at a time. They’re huge, so I cut them in ½ when I get home, re-wrap them individually and then allow myself no more than 1 a day.

2. My house burned down when I was 10 and while it was horrible, I kinda enjoyed being a gypsy for 6 months. We mostly lived at the Hilton by Arlington Park (Sheraton now) though. Yep, I was Eloise.

3. I’m the one who discovered the fire in the back corner of the garage. No, I didn’t set it, although a fireman accused me and my brother of that.

4. And in a moment of absolute stupidity, I ran into house to get my favorite green stuffed rabbit that I couldn’t live without.

5. I’ll never forget watching the firemen on the roof with chainsaws and seeing the enormous ball of fire fly out of the garage causing all the firemen in the driveway to hit the ground. Luckily, no one was injured.

6. I’ve never had a speeding ticket (but fully realize that I will now, now that I’ve bragged about it).

7. Despite the fact that he’s not exactly my “type,” I have had a completely unhealthy crush on the character Josh Lyman (played brilliantly by Bradley Whitford) from The West Wing since it first aired in 1999. I just figured out why.


8. I’ve only been outside of the US once. I was 10 and we went to the Bahamas. I really want to go to Paris.

9. My friend Brad Meltzer interviewed me for his latest book, The Book of Lies, and used at least 1 story from my life in the book. He also mentioned me in the Acknowledgements, which was a huge and wonderful surprise.

10. I drank the Obama Kool-aid in 2002 when I met him.

11. If I don’t get to Watervale each summer, I feel incomplete.

12. I could eat Thai food every day.

13. I’ve kept all the love letters I ever received and enjoy sitting down and reading them every so often.

14. My brother Dave is one of my best friends.

15. My favorite time of day is sunrise. Despite this, I’m not a morning person at all.

16. I gave the graduation speech at my junior high graduation. My mom and Nana were also their high school valedictorians. It runs in the family.

17. I can’t stand horror films. I have horrible dreams after I watch them.

18. I also believe in ghosts and if you tell me a house or building is haunted, I won’t sleep all night because I’m scared.

19. I had my appendix out when I was 11. Luckily, my mom didn’t listen to my doctor who thought I just had cramps.

20. I am deathly afraid of needles.

21. I’m certain this irrational fear stems from the last time I gave blood in college and the person doing it couldn’t find a vein. I had bruises all over both arms and then bled really slowly so it took forever. I started to hyperventilate, but thanks to a very cute boy who came over and distracted me, I was fine.

22. My mother, however, would tell you I’ve been afraid of needles since I was a kid.

23. The last time I wrote a letter to Santa was in 2007. Yes, I was 36. And, yes, I know there’s no Santa, but I figured it couldn’t hurt. It didn’t work. The letter is on my blog.

24. I used to be a Republican and was the Secretary of College Republicans in college. I saw the error of my ways shortly after that.

25. I spent the last day I lived in DC touring the West Wing of the White House, thanks to my friend Karen. It’s not part of the regular tour. The only disappointment I had was that we weren’t allowed to take any pics except for in the press room or outside, but I love the picture of me standing behind the podium with the seal of the White House over my shoulder.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

I've Never Been So Proud!

I just called my brother Dave and he answered and said he couldn't talk because he was phone banking for Obama up in Traverse City, Michigan!

This is the first campaign he's ever been involved in. I just love that Barack is energizing young people and other people who have not previously been engaged.

Yeah Dave! I'm so proud of you!

Now if I could only get my dad to vote for Obama instead of McSame and Caribou Barbie.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Happy Birthday Dave!

Today is my little brother, Dave's, birthday. To call him my little brother isn't exactly accurate. He stands almost a foot taller than me and has for close to 2 decades. And he's 34 today. But to me, he'll always be my little brother.

Not only is Dave my little brother, he's also one of the people I admire most in this world and one of my best friends.

Please raise your glass and toast to my brother Dave.

Happy Birthday Dave! I love you!

Monday, August 18, 2008

Aren't the Republicans the Party of Family Values?

I guess I'm really lucky. I have a brother, Dave (I may have mentioned him before), who I consider to be my best friend. Sure, we fought like the Hatfields and McCoys when we were growing up, but for at least the last 15 or so years, there has been no one I want standing in my corner more than him. When I have something to celebrate, I want Dave to know. And when I'm feeling down about myself or have bad news or need advice, I call Dave. And he comes to me for a lot too.

Sure, I jest about still having the only child syndrome, some 34 years after Dave was born, but I'm never serious about it. In fact, usually, the opposite is true. I want things for Dave before me. Never, in my wildest imagination can I conceive of a time when I would actually wish I was an only child or not acknowledge I had a brother. I am proud of Dave. I'm proud of his accomplishments and the man he has become.

So you'll understand why I get a little outraged at the story below from NPR. Now, I'll admit this is only one side of the story. But unless your sibling is Ted Bundy or the Unabomber, why wouldn't you admit to having them? Oh, ya, they're Democrats. Well, Cindy & John McCain, let me share a little secret with ya. If you stop shitting on your siblings and admit to having them, they MIGHT support you in your efforts to become President.

Nice family values, Cindy & John McCain.

Cindy McCain's Half Sister 'Angry' She's Hidden
by Ted Robbins

All Things Considered, August 18, 2008 · Last Tuesday, NPR broadcast a story about Cindy McCain's business and charity work. In it, Ted Robbins described McCain as the only child of Jim Hensley, a wealthy Arizona businessman. The next morning, NPR received an e-mail from Nicholas Portalski of Phoenix, who heard the story with his mother.

"We were listening to the piece about Cindy McCain on NPR, All Things Considered, and it just struck us very hard," Portalski said.

His mother, Kathleen Hensley Portalski, is also Hensley's daughter.

The Portalski family is accustomed to hearing Cindy McCain described as Hensley's only child.

She's been described that way by news organizations from The New Yorker and The New York Times to Newsweek and ABC.

McCain herself routinely uses the phrase "only child," as she did on CNN last month. "I grew up with my dad," she said then. "I'm an only child. My father was a cowboy, and he really loved me very much, but I think he wanted a son occasionally."

McCain's father was also a businessman — and twice a father.

"I'm upset," Kathleen Portalski says. "I'm angry. It makes me feel like a nonperson, kind of."

Who Is Kathleen Hensley Portalski?


Documents show Kathleen Anne Hensley was born to Jim and Mary Jeanne Hensley on Feb. 23, 1943. They had been married for six years when Kathleen was born.

Jim Hensley was a bombardier on a B-17, flying over Europe during World War II.

He was injured and sent to a facility in West Virginia to recuperate. During that time, while still married to Mary Jeanne, Hensley met another woman — Marguerite Smith. Jim divorced Mary Jeanne and married Marguerite in 1945.

Cindy Lou Hensley was born nine years later, in 1954.

She may have grown up as an only child, but so did her half sister, Kathleen, who was raised by a single parent.

Portalski says she did see her father and her half sister from time to time.

"I saw him a few times a year," she says. "I saw him at Christmas and birthdays, and he provided money for school clothes, and he called occasionally."

Jim Hensley also provided credit cards and college tuition for his grandchildren, as well as $10,000 gifts to Kathleen and her husband, Stanley Portalski. That lasted a decade, they say. By then, Jim Hensley had built Hensley and Co. into one of the largest beer distributorships in the country. He was worth tens, if not hundreds, of millions of dollars.

Sole Inheritor To Hensley's Estate


When Hensley died in 2000, his will named not only Portalski but also a daughter of his wife Marguerite from her earlier marriage. So, Cindy McCain may be the only product of Jim and Marguerite's marriage, but she is not the only child of either.

She was, however, the sole inheritor of his considerable estate.

Kathleen Portalski was left $10,000, and her children were left nothing. It's a fact Nicholas Portalski says his sister discovered the hard way.

"What she found in town — on the day of or the day before or the day after his funeral — was that the credit card didn't work anymore," Nick says.

The Portalskis live in a modest home in central Phoenix. Kathleen is retired, as is her husband. Nicholas Portalski is a firefighter and emergency medical technician looking for work.

They say it would have been nice if they were left some of the Hensley fortune.

They also say they are Democrats, but Nicholas Portalski says he had another reason for coming forward.

"The fact that we don't exist," he says. "The fact that we've never been recognized, and then Cindy has to put such a fine point on it by saying something that's not true. Recently, again and again. It's just very, very hurtful."

Kathleen Portalski says she'd like an acknowledgment and an apology.

NPR asked the McCain campaign — specifically, Cindy McCain — to comment or respond. Neither replied.

Kathleen Hensley Portalski displays newspaper clippings of her father in World War II, as well as snapshots of herself as a child with her father.

Portalski is shown with her late father, Jim Hensley, who was also Cindy McCain's father.

Nicholas Portalski, whose mother is Cindy McCain's half-sister, says it's "very, very hurtful" that he and his mother haven't been recognized.

Okay, this is me again (vs. the NPR article). I know some people are going to say "oh Kathleen Hensley Portalski and her son are just looking for a handout." Well, maybe they are and maybe they're not. And I don't care either way. What I know for sure (here's my Oprah moment), is that I have to wonder if you can't tell me the truth about how many siblings you have (Cindy, you have 2), what else are you gonna lie to me about? And if I can't trust you (and your husband) to tell me the truth on the simple stuff (how many siblings you have is the simple stuff), then I sure can't trust you to be President or the wife of the President.

Of course, I suppose it's possible that all that pill popping Cindy did caused her to have memory problems and despite all the reminders, poor Cindy simply can't remember.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Adventures in Kayaking

Somewhere along the lines, I developed an odd fear of the water. I say it's an odd fear because I was born in Florida and to hear my mom tell it, I could swim before I could walk. I loved swimming in the Gulf of Mexico or Lower Herring Lake or Lake Michigan at Watervale or the pool or the Atlantic Ocean while in the Bahamas. I had no fears at all back then. Water above my head? No problem. Dive into the deep end of the pool? Easy. Nothing bothered me. Just stick me in the water and I was a happy child.

But at some point, that stopped. I still loved swimming in pools, but I suddenly wanted nothing to do with the ocean or lakes at Watervale. And so I didn't. I don't know if it started when I started having problems seeing and needed glasses as a teenager, except I know the summer I worked at Watervale I spent a great deal of free time in the lakes. I just don't know.

So yesterday morning, when Dave suggested at breakfast that we go kayaking since it was my last day at Watervale, my initial answer was a firm no. Part of my resistance I'm certain came from my belief that I couldn't do it. Dave is super athletic and I'm not. And although I used to be a very strong swimmer, I'm not anymore. But Dave continued to pester me about it.

Finally, I asked "Will I end up in the lake?" thinking this would get him off my back because the obvious answer was "of course!" and that would be the end of it. But Dave, knowing when it's better to simply tell me what I want to hear, said "No, of course not. You'll be fine." And off we went.

All settled into my kayak with a life jacket secure around me, we were off to the Boo-Hoo sand dune and then to the Outlet and maybe Lake Michigan. About 1/3 of the way to Boo-Hoo, I lost my balance in the kayak and flipped into the water. At that point, the lake is about 25 feet deep and all I cared about was not losing my sunglasses, contacts, or the oar. I swallowed a bunch of water and came up coughing and struggling to catch my breath. Dave was within inches of me in his kayak and I had my life preserver on, so I was pretty safe, despite my flailing around as though I was drowning.

Once I calmed down and caught my breath, I realized my oar was less than 6 inches away from me and it floats and my sunglasses had remained on my face. I wasn't so certain about my contacts, however, as one seemed to be missing. I asked Dave if he would hop in the lake and find it, but he said no. Luckily, it had simply moved in my eye and quickly rearranged itself so I could see.

After about 5 minutes of futile attempts at getting back in the kayak that only resulted in numerous bruises all over my calves, Dave agreed to tow me back to shore, where I could easily get back in my kayak because I could stand.

Without further incident, we made it to Boo Hoo and then around to the Outlet, where I discovered a dam I had long ago forgotten. Dave soared right over the dam with ease and with his instruction, I was certain I could too. Recalling that the water rides at Great America were my favorite (and only ones I would go on), I figured this would be no more difficult.

I centered my kayak to aim for the deepest point of the dam, but ended up beached just to one side. Dave walked out and helped me get unstuck and realigned, and over the dam I went. Except that my kayak and I separated and I ended up back in the water. But I was determined.

I dragged my kayak to shore, walked it around the dam, got back in, centered myself for the deepest point and off I went. This time, I wound up stuck just to the left, but with Dave's help, I was easily realigned. Over the dam I went and again flipped my kayak. Take three. This time, Dave is laughing hysterically as I again got lined up and again flipped the kayak. But I was insistent that I would not return to Watervale until I had conquered this dam, which was all of about an 18 inch drop.

Dave had a different idea. He suggested that I give it a rest and we head out to Lake Michigan, kayak there for a little while and upon our return, I give the dam another try. So off we went.

We got about 20 feet out into Lake Michigan, when we discovered, much to our surprise, the air temperature on Lake Michigan was easily 15 degrees cooler than on Lower Herring and the water was probably in the low 50s. Dave suggested we head back (before I end up in the water) because it was too cold. As we arrived back at the Lake Michigan shore, I got caught in a wave and got dumped in the water. Luckily, the water was only about 6 inches deep, but the ground was very rocky and as I was standing up, I got pushed over by another wave and bloodied up my knees.

We made our way back through the Outlet toward the dam, which I was hell-bent on defeating. On my 4th and final try, I made it over successfully and then we kayaked back to Watervale where I laid in the sun for a couple of hours. Unfortunately, once I walked my kayak back around the dam and got in on Lower Herring Lake, rather than sitting in the seat, my butt landed on the side of the kayak and I now have a huge bruise on my ass.

I've never thought of myself as a rough and tumble girl because I've always been very girly and feminine. But I'm proud of all my bruises and scrapes. I wear them with honor. I also learned that kayaking is a blast, not nearly as difficult as I'd imagined, and the worst that can happen is I get a little wet. Once I was acclimated to the water, it actually felt good to be a fish again. Maybe I should start swimming laps at my local pool. I only wish I'd discovered all this earlier in the week. The good news is there's only 52 more weeks until Watervale 2009 and I will kayak everyday next year.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

The Proof is in the ComEd Bill

My ComEd electric bill arrived yesterday and I am thrilled. Well, okay, not thrilled, but I am doing the Happy Dance. (That link put a smile on your face, right?)

The billing period started June 10th, just a couple of days after I got the Solar Attic Fan, and is the first bill I've received since its installation.

When comparing my one month usage for the same time period last year, my electricity usage has DECREASED by 35.6%!!!!!!!!!!!

You are probably thinking, "Well, that's convenient Jessica, but Chicago has experienced a relatively cool summer this year with very little need for AC usage" and you'd be correct. The average daily temperature from June 10th - July 11th, 2008, according to my ComEd bill was 72 degrees. During the same period in 2007, the average daily temperature was 74 degrees. Not a significant difference.

My Solar Attic Fan has produced significant savings for me in one month! Yeah! Great for Mother Earth and great for my wallet! Thanks Dave!

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Hooray for Solar Attic Fans!

One of my least favorite things to do is climb up into the attic during the summer months. Historically, if it's 80 degrees outside, the attic is easily double that. I've always had an attic fan that I've never been convinced did anything other than suck up electricity and cost me more with Com Ed. Also, I believe there are monsters that live in the attic.

But today, I was forced to climb into the attic in search of one of my bins of summer clothes because I needed a cute outfit for a party tonight and couldn't find a skirt I wanted. Prepared for a lack of breathable air and monsters, I hesitatingly climbed the ladder. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that it was relatively cool in the attic, despite it being over 80 and very sunny outside! The attic was so comfortable that I could have easily stayed up there and gone through old boxes of crap. I didn't, but I could have.

What's the difference you ask? Well, two weeks ago when Dave was in town, he installed a Solar Attic Fan for me. He sells and installs only Sunrise Solar Attic Fans because they use the most advanced solar panels to collect and deliver power directly from the sun to the highly efficient 12-volt DC motor inside the power vent. A Solar Attic Fan, just as its name implies, relies on the sun for its power, not electricity, as it sucks the heat out of your attic. To be honest, I hadn't really thought about the difference with the new Solar Attic Fan, except that since he installed it, I haven't turned on the air conditioning once!

I love that with my new Solar Attic Fan, I'm helping the environment and living more greenly, but I REALLY love the impact on my wallet! PLUS, there's a 30% tax credit available this year when I do my income taxes! Yeah! AND Dave's business offers a 5 year warranty, which is 4 years longer than Michigan Building Code requires and other companies provide!

Want one for yourself? Call Dave. That's what his new business - Crystal Solarlighting Solutions - does. He can be reached at 231-651-0214. And yes, he'll do installations in the Chicago Area, as well as Northern Michigan.

Oh, I also didn't find any monsters in the attic. That doesn't mean that they're not there. Just that they were sleeping.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

The Parking God ALWAYS Wins

Arlington Heights is notorious for its strict parking enforcement and ultra confusing signage. And parking is always almost impossible to find in the downtown area. I've gotten so many parking tickets, that I should have a short wing named for me in the new Village Hall (aka Taj Mahal). Street parking in the residential areas is also strictly enforced with no overnight parking allowed.

Last night, Dave and I both forgot that his truck was on the street and went to bed around 10. I woke up bright and early with my first thought being, "Oh shit! Dave got a parking ticket!" Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. (Oh, wait, wrong story, never mind.)

Anyway, I looked out the window and his truck was GONE. Dave doesn't leave in the morning until 7:30 and this was 6:45, so now my thought was "Oh shit! Dave's truck was TOWED!" I yelled for Dave, but it turned out he had left at 6:00 because he had a 6:30am meeting. When I finally reached him on his cell phone, he said he had not gotten a ticket. Glory! Hallelujah! I said I would offer up a sacrifice to the Parking God, but got busy and forgot.

Fast forward to this evening . . . Dave and I decided to go out for Thai food before he leaves in the morning. We drive around downtown Arlington Heights for nearly an eternity in search of parking, but finally found a spot about a block away in a public lot. Just as we were getting out of the car, we discovered a sign 90% blocked by shrubbery indicating we would be towed by parking in what the sign told us was a private lot.

We continued our search for any parking and found a spot near, but not in front of, the Metropolis Performing Arts Centre. There was a sign that we both read "2 hour parking 6am-5pm" and then "no parking after 5pm on weekends." Since tonight is Tuesday, we parked and were off to fill his very loud and empty tummy.

Dinner was fantastic, but upon our return, Dave says "what's that on your car?" It was a ticket. The sign actually said "no parking after 5pm." Damn. Now I've parked there 1000 times and I'm certain the sign used to say "no parking after 5pm on weekends" and there's even a blank line below "5pm" that appears to have something covered. But I'm not disputing the ticket. I earned it fair and square.

After all, the Parking God always wins.