tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-220654082024-03-19T16:40:59.220-04:00Granpappy's ThoughtsGranpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.comBlogger412125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-72164180357032669722020-06-08T11:48:00.005-04:002020-06-08T11:48:51.773-04:00Just Plain US<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px;">Not too long ago, an American male died while being taken into custody by a group of law-enforcement officers. The officers have been arrested, charged with murder, and are awaiting as their case makes its way through the judicial system. We do follow the rule of law here in America.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px;">In the meantime, large groups of Americans are peaceably protesting against this instance and other instances of police brutality across the country, in the hope that something beneficial will be done now. Also, in the meantime, other groups of Americans are using the above death as an excuse to destroy and loot property, attack and shoot at protesters, innocent by-standers and law-enforcement officers, in the hope that our American way of life will be replaced by something less free than a democracy.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px;">In the background of all this, a large collection of politicians, ably assisted by the media, have been busy ensuring that their compartmentalization of America continues. You know the labels: White, Black, Latino, Jew, Christian, Muslim, African-American, Italian-American, etc. As long as we allow these labels to exist, we will never be able to come together as who we really are – Americans.</span></span>Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-42397900101306389842020-04-26T15:37:00.002-04:002020-04-26T15:37:18.261-04:00NestingOur patio wall has been accepted by a pair of Doves as their new home. They've been busy for the last few days constructing the nest. We're concerned because we need to get into the storage area next to the nest. We hope the young mother will fly off to dine somewhere with her partner so we can rescue a few items from storage, such as toilet paper and paper towels. The nest is right up against the screen and looks to be quite precarious, but they seem to be confident enough that it will suffice time will tell.Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-40703376334622688532020-04-24T16:14:00.002-04:002020-04-24T16:14:33.706-04:00Teachers<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">One day, in
our fourth grade classroom, Mrs. Wheat announced that her diamond ring had
disappeared and that she would pay a 25¢ reward to any of her students who
found it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Needless to say, we all spent
a good number of days with our eyes on the ground, not concentrating too much
on what she might have been trying to teach us; 25¢ was big money back then!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But we did get through the school year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The good/bad news was that the ring had been
found, but by Mrs. Wheat herself, in her driveway after the snow melted, so our
25¢ dreams went up in smoke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Miss Dildine,
who would within a year become Mrs. Harrison, instilled in me a love for
poetry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was a teacher of English,
which included grammar, punctuation, pronunciation, enunciation and reading the
classics aloud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first few weeks of
high school were a bewildering experience for me, but I found some semblance of
order in her class. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She opened my eyes
to the wondrous world of literature, and I am forever grateful for that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Ethics is an
interesting subject, and one of my college professors brought the subject
directly to us one day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was during
the reign of McCarthyism and loyalty oaths.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>About three months into the semester, our professor came into the room
and announced that our class was dismissed for the semester as he had been
fired.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He refused to sign the loyalty
oath, not because he was a Communist, or even a Communist sympathizer, but
because he believed the requirement to sign was not ethical.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lesson learned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-87871349986085750162020-03-17T12:28:00.001-04:002020-03-17T12:28:13.943-04:00 New York Times Sunday crossword puzzles, 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzles, Billiards, genealogical research and pin & ink drawing are just about all that keep me occupied these days. Life is good.Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-11832723305392380342020-03-11T14:39:00.003-04:002020-03-11T14:39:55.014-04:00Billiards Another resident, Bob Kaul, and I play a game of English Billiards every Wednesday morning. We're fairly evenly matched, except this morning when he was off his game. It's a nice change from 8-ball or 9-ball pool. There are some videos on YouTube if you're interested in learning how it's played. My days of playing regular Billiards - three balls, no pockets in the table - back in the 40's and 50's seem to help me with angles and carom shots. But the weekly practice is certainly needed.<br />
During our freshman year at Oklahoma A & M College - now OSU, having been upgraded to a full-fledged university - a group of us would shoot pool on the only pool table in the Student Union; the other five tables were for Snooker. When we came from summer break, the pool table had been replaced with another Snooker table. A much different game, requiring a higher level of skill than pool. Something about smaller pockets, and a list of rules we always had trouble remembering. Smitty, Kendig, Stolberg and Gaesser are gone now, just Cohen and me left of the Rochester contingent to carry the OAMC banner on.Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-37843822501473288872020-03-09T10:54:00.001-04:002020-03-09T10:54:18.622-04:00Monday, 3 March 2020Walked this morning - 2512 steps, so far. Today is a day with an open schedule - nothing on, no stress. I finished the New York Times crossword puzzle yesterday. How do they come up with such challenges? We have been working on jigsaw puzzles for a bit now - one on our dining table constantly, and one waiting. Shirley orders them on Amazon; we like the Buffalo Games puzzles, especially those by Charles Wysocki. When completed, we donate them to Westminster Village; there are several tables around the campus for puzzlers like us.<br />
Have a great day!Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-52276813313962073752020-03-06T18:31:00.001-05:002020-03-06T18:31:20.991-05:00ChangesShirley and I have been trying to walk more lately, once before breakfast and again after lunch. In the morning, we walk the halls and up and down stairs. It's about a mile. A little more than half that in the afternoon. And we're now eating lunch later, it helps cut down our evening snack, so we sleep better, too.Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-16939300917844582020-03-03T11:59:00.001-05:002020-03-03T11:59:56.867-05:00Busy BodyWhen I agreed to become President of the Westminster Village Foundation, I didn't realize the amount of time it would consume. I had been at it for about eight months, when I decided that all the changes I had wanted were either complete or in progress. At that point, I submitted my resignation - Monday of last week. Since then, my phone hasn't been ringing, no text messages, and my incoming email is down to one every three or four days. What a relief!Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-58527358127890378582019-03-19T09:19:00.000-04:002019-03-19T09:19:48.099-04:00Notes from a Jigsaw Puzzle Junky<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Shirley
and I have recently renewed our interest in jigsaw puzzles, as have some of our
fellow Residents here at Westminster Village, Scottsdale,, so I was interested in learning the history of jigsaw
puzzling.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Not being especially trustful
of a Google search, I searched my own mind and found this:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Once
upon a time, Og, the local Neanderthal artist, had just finished scratching out
a reasonable rendering of the neighborhood Mastodon on sandstone (some say
slate, but archaeologists aren’t too agreeable on the subject of the media
used), when the baby of the family, Uzzle, grabbed it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before anyone reacted to the sudden display
of agility by the toddler, the artwork had been tossed into the air (such an
early display of hand speed!) and fell to the ground, which would ultimately be
named Earth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It broke into pieces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Og, confounded by emotions of awe at the
strength of his progeny and anger at the destroyer of his masterpiece, was
about to kick the numerous pieces into a neighbor’s domicile (cave, to us).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, his domicile mate, Egr, showing
signs of her own degree of artistic talent, picked up the various sized pieces
and proceeded to assemble them in proper order.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She had placed the oddly shaped pieces on a bed of soft mud, which
quickly hardened (they were living in an area of dry climate soon to be named
Ogizona), cementing them in place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Egr
quickly named this new creation, Egruzzle, unselfishly giving some credit to
her offspring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Centuries later, two archaeologists,
Jigger and Sawdler by name, were amazed to discover this assemblage in a dark,
dry cave (once considered a domicile).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Until carbon dating, and several visits to a local palm reader, the
Neanderthal source was finally realized.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The secret of the origin of these puzzles, eventually named in honor of
the two discoverers, has been a closely guarded secret – until now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-62317464950828824082019-01-28T08:21:00.000-05:002019-01-28T08:21:05.292-05:00BrexitI'm not surprised that Great Britain is pulling out of the EU. When a country has to give up a good portion of it's sovereignty to a group of people who don't fully represent their culture and political philosophy, it's time to call a halt.Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-20996221892800165012018-11-16T14:41:00.001-05:002018-11-16T14:41:15.931-05:00Songs My Father Sang<br />
<h3>
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<h3>
<span style="font-weight: normal;">My father
liked to sing. Most of the songs were from the First World War, like "Give
My Regards to Broadway", "Over There" and "Pack Up Your
Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag". But the one that I remember, because it was
a humorous ditty, went like this:</span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">
<br />
I run the old mill over here to Reubensville<br />
My name's Joshua Ebenezer Frye.<br />
I know a thing or two,<br />
You can bet your life I do,<br />
They don't ketch me for I'm too darn sly.<br />
<br />
I've seen Bunco men, allus got the best o' them,<br />
Once I met a couple on the Boston train.<br />
They says, "How be you!"<br />
I says, "That'll do!<br />
Travel right along with your darn skin game.”<br />
<br />
Chorus:<br />
Wal, I swan!<br />
I mus' be gittin' on!<br />
Giddyup, Napoleon! It looks like rain.<br />
Wal, I'll be switched!<br />
The hay ain't pitched!<br />
Come in when you're over to the farm again.<br />
<br />
There were a lot of verses to it, and I've heard it on the radio only once in
my life, back in the 70's, by some folk singer whose name I never did learn. If
you ever hear the number, let me know.</span><br />
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<br />Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-55880409981071771762018-10-07T08:53:00.002-04:002018-10-07T08:53:25.824-04:00RainWe had several days of rain that came up from a tropical hurricane off the coast of Mexico. It was welcome, even though it brought wind and flooding. The total from the storm brought us up to the annual average, and over, in some areas. Then this morning, I woke up at 4:45 to the sound of rain on the skylight and flashes of lightning and the accompanying thunder. With the ground already saturated, there will probably more flooding and road closures. Not a good time to be on the roads. Stay safe, everyone.Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-46164729899618000112018-09-30T11:16:00.001-04:002018-09-30T11:35:17.024-04:00We Moved We moved last Monday to a new apartment. We've lived at Westminster Village for ten years, so were eligible to have new paint and flooring in the old place. Not looking forward to being displaced while all the redecorating was in process, we found that we could move into another unit. There were several available, so we picked the next size smaller and set about deciding on the new decor. Fortunately, the Marketing Director is an ace when it comes to decor, so we followed her advice. The new wall color and flooring fit perfectly with our furniture.<br />
We scheduled a moving company, then began packing up what items we could move ourselves. We took "ownership" of the new unit on Friday and began loading boxes on laundry carts. Saturday began the transfer, which went on into Tuesday. The movers hauled the big items - furniture and art work - and placed everything in place as we had planned it. The one snag was that the 4-drawer file didn't fit in the computer room (I had measured everything two or three times!) so it went on the patio. Wednesday, a Maintenance worker installed shelving in our storage closet off the patio, so we were able to put everything away that had been stuck out there.<br />
Art work is still not hung, but the floors have been "Swiffered" both wet and dry. We know where almost everything has been shelved, and have been able to make breakfast without too much of a delay while we search for plates and coffee and such. So tomorrow is the first anniversary of the first week in our new home and we are absolutely delighted to be here, facing east and greeting the sunrise.Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-1178526967368488022018-08-06T13:46:00.002-04:002018-09-30T11:37:03.199-04:00May 1988 - Moscow State University - Excerpt<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Freedom is the right to question and change the established way of doing things. It is the continuing revolution of the marketplace. It is the understanding that allows us to recognize shortcomings and seek solutions. It is the right to put forth an idea, scoffed at by the experts, and watch it catch fire among the people. It is the right to dream - to follow your dream or stick to your conscience, even if you're the only one in a sea of doubters. Freedom is the recognition that no single person, no single authority or government has a monopoly on the truth, but that every one of us put on this world has been put there for a reason and has something to offer." - President Ronald Reagan.</span>Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-45081123383646336162018-07-07T10:33:00.000-04:002018-07-07T10:33:07.815-04:00Unusual SmoothiesShirley had some oral surgery two weeks ago and was put on a liquid diet. The first thing we did was buy a Magic Bullet for making smoothies. Since then, we've been trying all kinds of recipes. There was the usual fruit and yogurt and milk. Some with rice milk. Then we branched out to cans of soup thinned with milk. Another good one one was chicken pot pie and milk. This morning it was a breakfast sandwich - half a biscuit, soft-fried egg, cheese and a slice of crisp bacon with a cup of milk. She loved it! Tomorrow may see a pizza smoothie. No telling where we'll go from here until she sees the doctor next Wednesday.Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-44606182299517526182018-06-19T08:47:00.000-04:002018-06-19T08:47:36.084-04:00Slimming DownNot only have we been able to get our weight down - eating less sugary foods - but Shirley and I have been cleaning house. We took a large load of too-big clothes to the Humane Society store last week. We've been going through the apartment, looking for things we don't use or don't need anymore. A lot of the items are donated to our Village Shoppe here at Westminster Village, which doesn't accept clothing, the proceeds of which go to the Westminster Village Foundation. The Foundation provides grants to Westminster Village, primarily for resident assistance. There are cases in which a resident may see their resources dwindle and need help with their monthly charges. The charitable purpose of Westminster Village is that no resident will ever be asked to leave if, through no fault of their own, they run out of money. So we support the Foundation as best we can.Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-72975643743399963102018-06-16T09:26:00.002-04:002018-06-16T09:26:59.626-04:00Off AgainWell, I'm off Facebook, this time for good. I'm just tired of the business of them selling my personal information to any company, then saying how they're protecting my privacy. So much for that. I'll use the time previously spent for worthwhile projects. How do you feel about Facebook and the privacy issue?Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-45730780142637020602017-08-13T19:25:00.001-04:002017-08-13T19:25:51.302-04:00Back HomeWe're back home and after several days of rest and laundry we're ready to face the world. I had written in 2013 that I was parting company with technology, but strangely, technology crept up on me. I'm now the owner of a Fitbit. If you don't have one, a word of warning: they can be habit-forming. And while away, somehow I wound up with a smartphone - a Samsung Galaxy J7. Now the problem is how to figure out all the ways to make it work for Shirley and me. So far, I've taken 2 pictures, received 4 messages and loaded a few items on the calendar. That's it for now. The manual is over 160 pages, so I may be closeted for a while. See ya.Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-55294423444653711692017-07-29T15:40:00.001-04:002017-07-29T15:40:38.918-04:00Out-of-Touch TravellersWe haven't flown since 2011, so we're a little apprehensive. We're travelling to Rochester, NY to visit family, especially a cousin who is flying in from Germany. But at least, we now have our boarding passes, calendar pretty well filled out, and suitcases almost filled. What next? Will the limousine service pick us up on time? Will the plane be late? With there be a car waiting for us at Avis? Did we pack the correct clothes? Time will tell.Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-70937826545777123212017-06-10T09:29:00.003-04:002017-06-10T09:32:17.971-04:00My Dad - Frank Arthur Miller (1896-1974)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBxzPyFGWroNQ3yUKqSZSUou7y7RKgqaxGzWeIByZk2bpmXO_Sv1qmZCAjpoqzD220mIC6OsVw7YPdHUCkOVYZJRiIr3Cp9opHJ6ioPFJFgpbu72qTeQCKVBQIZ_QPT_f_tODdsA/s1600/Miller+Frank+04.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1199" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBxzPyFGWroNQ3yUKqSZSUou7y7RKgqaxGzWeIByZk2bpmXO_Sv1qmZCAjpoqzD220mIC6OsVw7YPdHUCkOVYZJRiIr3Cp9opHJ6ioPFJFgpbu72qTeQCKVBQIZ_QPT_f_tODdsA/s320/Miller+Frank+04.JPG" width="255" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Dad’s lineage on his mother’s side,
goes back to Miles Standish, while on his father’s side it traces to German
farmers in Alsace, France.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was a
twin, the fifth of ten children born in Batavia, NY, to Lennie Mann and William
Francis Miller, eight of whom survived infancy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His mother died when he was eight, after which his oldest sister kept
order in the household.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Schooling ended
at the age of thirteen when he had to earn money to help support the
family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Following his father’s
footsteps, he worked in construction, eventually having his own business as a
bricklayer and mason contractor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
spent part of The Great War as a Naval Seaman in England, building barracks for
the troops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Marriage to Wilhelmina
Henrietta Goebel in 1922 brought two sons, Frederick and Robert, raised during
the Great Depression.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was a hunter
and fisherman, providing the family with pike, bass, pheasant and rabbit to
feast on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During his short life (77
years) he built houses for his sons, entertained 13 grandchildren, was active
in the local Spiritualist Church, shoveled snow off miles of sidewalk and
almost survived prostate cancer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
are many structures in Batavia and Rochester, NY, that bear the fruits of his
labor, and his family sorely misses him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-45677815785036175742017-05-13T15:17:00.001-04:002017-05-13T15:17:54.088-04:00My Mom - Wilhelmina Henrietta Goebel (1897-1979)
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-biIgtQIw-4p66eK-xLIz3lpQweGJg4W1xOT1jQ7YKhpxL22-NEwGCS3HHnSRRPbd1zjpqVEElHVEndZJs7V_Gs3mxuNy3OE687m1Wx0RTH1FWoet8YEIHiuW_UOYrptriVbMw/s1600/Goebel+Wilhelmina+6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-biIgtQIw-4p66eK-xLIz3lpQweGJg4W1xOT1jQ7YKhpxL22-NEwGCS3HHnSRRPbd1zjpqVEElHVEndZJs7V_Gs3mxuNy3OE687m1Wx0RTH1FWoet8YEIHiuW_UOYrptriVbMw/s320/Goebel+Wilhelmina+6.JPG" width="223" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt;">Mom was the eldest daughter of immigrants
from Germany.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her father, Heinrich
Göbel, arrived in his teens and worked his way to become a noted chef in
Rochester, NY.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her mother, Clara Marie
Steinmetz, arrived with her mother and sisters at the age of eight; she worked
as a domestic until her marriage to Heinrich, who had since become Henry Gabel,
ultimately settling on Goebel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As she
grew up, Mom saw her 18-year old brother, Fred, dead from an accidental
electrocution, and her two-year old sister, Marguerite, dead from scarlet
fever; her youngest brother, Henry, lived to the ripe old age of 97.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt;">Always surrounded by cousins and friends, she
enjoyed family outings, especially visits to her Uncle Fred Gabel’s farm in
Mendon, NY.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After graduating from high
school, she attended business school, eventually working at Remington
Typewriter Co. as a bookkeeper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
summer of 1922, she worked at Camp Mohawk, a resort inn on Fourth Lake in the
Adirondack Mountains.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt;">After marriage to Frank Arthur Miller in
1924, she lived in Batavia, where her two sons, Frederick Arthur, and Robert
Harold, were born.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was an active
member of the Methodist Church, and with her husband, joined a local Bridge
Club.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom and Dad continued to meet monthly
with Mom’s girlfriends and their husbands to play Pinochle, rotating from
house-to-house, even though it meant traveling the 30 miles to Rochester.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After the family moved to Rochester,
in 1941, she took a job as Receptionist, Cashier and Switchboard Operator at
Kroll's, a women's clothing and millinery shop on North Clinton Avenue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After her husband's death, Wilhelmina
suffered a series of strokes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She moved
into a nursing home on East Henrietta Road, where she lived for her last 4
years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She died in Genesee Hospital of
pneumococcal pneumonia at the age of 82.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She was a grand lady and the proud mother of two, grandmother of 13 and
great-grandmother of three.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-51266860694971139252017-03-21T12:47:00.002-04:002017-03-21T12:47:55.190-04:00What's the Problem?
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Last November, the voters in
Arizona approved a measure to raise the minimum wage to $10.00 per hour, with
additional increases over the next few years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This was one of those “feel good” measures that passed without anyone
assessing the true impact on families, businesses and our local economy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So what was supposed to happen and what did
the measure achieve?<o:p></o:p></div>
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First, step back and ask: What was
the <u>problem</u> that the measure was trying to solve?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was never made clear during the
campaign.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the Legislature, it
apparently was to provide more tax revenue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For the employees, it apparently was to give them more spending money in
their pockets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the employers, we don’t
know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What really happened?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, the Legislature will be getting more
tax monies to spend; employees will be getting a percentage of the increase to
spend, not the full amount, because of their increased tax burden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And what are the unintended consequences of
the measure?<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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Employees who were earning the
minimum wage received an increase, regardless of their performance, taking away
their employers right, and ability, to reward performance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Employees who were earning a dollar or two
above the minimum wage because of their performance, now see themselves earning
the same wage as lower performing workers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>To adjust for this forced discrepancy, employers must now raise everyone
else’s wages, ultimately causing prices to rise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is forcing a rising economy, which eats
into everyone’s disposable income, negatively affecting their ability to buy
the necessities.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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A simpler solution?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Keep wages at a level determined by the labor
market, and lower the tax burden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So,
let’s repeal the wage increase, define the real problem, and start putting the
economy back on solid footing.<o:p></o:p></div>
Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-17097026624584280542017-03-12T12:23:00.000-04:002017-03-12T12:23:19.118-04:0024, 48 or 72?Take a look at your deodorant. Mine says it's good for 48 hours. 48 hours? I take a shower at least once a day, so why would I need a deodorant that lasts longer than that? And now I find that stores offer some that last 72 hours. Does that mean I could forego washing under my arms for three days? Well, it ain't gonna happen - I'm buying the 24-hour stuff next time we shop. Sure makes one wonder, though.Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-14938412757501756262017-02-25T12:33:00.004-05:002017-02-25T12:34:16.575-05:00The Old Hometown Looks The Same - Sure!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
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This is a street view from Google Earth of the old homestead
in Batavia, New York.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It looks the same
as when we lived there in the 1930’s, except there was a Spirea bush next to
the porch, instead of what looks like a Lilac bush.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fourth house down the street to the right
belonged to my Grandfather, but his barn is gone now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And down Miller Avenue, to the left, there is
a four-car garage; my father converted it from the original five-car structure
sometime in the 1950’s, when I was in college.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When we visited about ten years ago, everything looked smaller than I
remembered.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjE-CxJtiRfhjmF0Qp3LwBRH8KAZXS6q2xgkE2AUY433INj59DfuJo9skE2A-TB2GGxQm15WhfgOmrhSnpzblhNmiVpS1_IeFKbiIOuMgDgsY4dx-PHPCwvpvuOngowGKSbxLuiA/s1600/145+Ross+St.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjE-CxJtiRfhjmF0Qp3LwBRH8KAZXS6q2xgkE2AUY433INj59DfuJo9skE2A-TB2GGxQm15WhfgOmrhSnpzblhNmiVpS1_IeFKbiIOuMgDgsY4dx-PHPCwvpvuOngowGKSbxLuiA/s400/145+Ross+St.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22065408.post-60336607519600570642017-02-15T12:52:00.000-05:002017-02-15T12:52:22.222-05:00The Old Hometown Looks the Same - NOT!
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It’s been years since I walked the streets of downtown
Rochester, New York, but I have checked out parts of it on Google Earth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the corner of Main and Clinton many
changes have taken place, including Midtown Plaza having been replaced; I
wonder what happened to the “magical” Clock of the Nations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Across the street, the Sibley Building has
been enclosed by construction fencing, presuming some major changes there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The building held the Sibley, Lindsay and
Curr Company, a major department store back in the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The big treat was to visit the toy department
on the fourth floor just before Christmas to see the tremendous display of
marvelous toys, dolls, electric trains, games, bicycles – all the goodies we
wrote Santa about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The elevator took us
up, or rather, the elevator <u>operator</u> took us up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was responsible to make sure we were clear
of the doors he manually opened and closed, then worked the lever to take us
up, all the while singing out the floors we approached and the merchandise contained
therein; second floor, ladies dresses coats and hats; third floor, men’s and
boy’s clothes; fourth floor, housewares and toys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was the one we waited anxiously to hear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then the rush out the door to the
Christmas Wonderland!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Great memory!<o:p></o:p></div>
Granpappyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18357214903534207171noreply@blogger.com1