Trenton, NJ.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Greetings.
At church on Sunday the priest, John, discussed the reading from Luke 1:26-38, where Mary hears from the angel Gabriel that she would bear the Son of God. First John warmed the congregation up by telling an uplifting story about an obese woman who discovered running and ran her first triathlon.
She was on the third leg, laboring mightily and running near the very back of the pack when an octogenarian man caught up with her. They ran together for awhile and the woman expressed her fear to him that when he ran on, she would be the final finisher. What a way for her first triathlon to end, she said bitterly, coming in dead last. What would people say about her then?
The man said simply, "They'll say you're a triathlete." The church audience murmured appreciatively at the story.
Then John launched into his sermon. "What were the angel's first words to Mary?" he asked.
"'Greetings, favored one!' Greetings! Not something from on high like, 'Listen now to God's command' no, a more friendly opening that would show Mary that her beauty, both within and without, came from God and was indicative of His love for us all."
There was more to the sermon, of course, but I was already in a reverie about the two stories. Dead last. Greetings.
After the service, as is customary, John spoke briefly with each parishioner as he or she filed out. When my turn came, I considered telling him my associations with both of his parables. John is not a runner, and being at least a dozen years younger than me, he didn't come into manhood during the Vietnam era.
Looking at the serious priest looking earnestly into my eyes, I decided against telling him that another thing that persons might call the overweight triathlete coming in last is "DFL."
No, I went with telling him that the association I thought about when the angel Gabriel opened with Mary by saying," Greetings," was that when letters from the selective service arrived telling you that you were being drafted, they started out famously with "Greetings." You're a favored one who is going off to Vietnam for a tour of duty!
John looked at me severely and said sternly, "That was the association you made from that passage?" Uh, yeah.
She was on the third leg, laboring mightily and running near the very back of the pack when an octogenarian man caught up with her. They ran together for awhile and the woman expressed her fear to him that when he ran on, she would be the final finisher. What a way for her first triathlon to end, she said bitterly, coming in dead last. What would people say about her then?
The man said simply, "They'll say you're a triathlete." The church audience murmured appreciatively at the story.
Then John launched into his sermon. "What were the angel's first words to Mary?" he asked.
"'Greetings, favored one!' Greetings! Not something from on high like, 'Listen now to God's command' no, a more friendly opening that would show Mary that her beauty, both within and without, came from God and was indicative of His love for us all."
There was more to the sermon, of course, but I was already in a reverie about the two stories. Dead last. Greetings.
After the service, as is customary, John spoke briefly with each parishioner as he or she filed out. When my turn came, I considered telling him my associations with both of his parables. John is not a runner, and being at least a dozen years younger than me, he didn't come into manhood during the Vietnam era.
Looking at the serious priest looking earnestly into my eyes, I decided against telling him that another thing that persons might call the overweight triathlete coming in last is "DFL."
No, I went with telling him that the association I thought about when the angel Gabriel opened with Mary by saying," Greetings," was that when letters from the selective service arrived telling you that you were being drafted, they started out famously with "Greetings." You're a favored one who is going off to Vietnam for a tour of duty!
John looked at me severely and said sternly, "That was the association you made from that passage?" Uh, yeah.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Downsizing
I put my Christmas tree up over the weekend. I brought into the house from the garage a mangy five and a half foot pre-assembled pre-wired artificial tree and plugged it in.
Voila. I bought it last year the day after Christmas at a hardware store where it was the demo model.
That was the same day that I brought my seven and a half foot tall fir pine artificial tree, disassembled, to the thrift store, closing a chapter in my life where for a decade I had expansive yuletide decorations in my house in hopes that my family soon would be there. Since that hadn't happened since 2002, it was time to get rid of all that junk.
Now no more unclaimed presents under the tree for the boys or stockings hung by the fireplace with care. Only a slightly leaning tree in the corner with a single strand of lights upon it and some scraps of tinsel and a few ornaments hanging down from it, mostly memorializing my various trips around the country like the miniature gateway arch from St. Louis (2010), tiny Seventh Cavalry trooper figure from the Little Big Horn battlefield (2011) and Oregon quarter keychain from Crater Lake (2012).
Voila. I bought it last year the day after Christmas at a hardware store where it was the demo model.
That was the same day that I brought my seven and a half foot tall fir pine artificial tree, disassembled, to the thrift store, closing a chapter in my life where for a decade I had expansive yuletide decorations in my house in hopes that my family soon would be there. Since that hadn't happened since 2002, it was time to get rid of all that junk.
Now no more unclaimed presents under the tree for the boys or stockings hung by the fireplace with care. Only a slightly leaning tree in the corner with a single strand of lights upon it and some scraps of tinsel and a few ornaments hanging down from it, mostly memorializing my various trips around the country like the miniature gateway arch from St. Louis (2010), tiny Seventh Cavalry trooper figure from the Little Big Horn battlefield (2011) and Oregon quarter keychain from Crater Lake (2012).
Monday, December 3, 2012
Pre-paid plan
The call quickly turned frosty. A representative from the Virginia Prepaid Tuition Plan had called to inquire about plans to use the Virginia prepaid college tuition plan ("plan") that I own with my oldest son as its beneficiary, and she was not prepared for my questions to her.
"What information do you have about Jim's intention to use the plan that I own?" I asked, not having seen nor heard from my oldest child since 2007, despite the fact that he apparently lives within five miles of me. His Mother, a first grade teacher in my town, has stonily refused for years to give me any shred of information concerning any of our three children, who are all estranged from me due to her actions in overbearing their wills as children during our lengthy divorce, including disclosing their addresses or even whether they are well or not.
The plan's representative, not sensitive to my fiduciary duty as well as divorce-court ordered directive to maintain the plan if possible for the child's use was not inclined to answer any questions. For my part, you see, I have previously been sued by my children over "fiduciary" matters although the court termed the suit a "harassment" petition when it threw it out while sanctioning and ultimately assessing costs of almost $50,000 against their Mother for her "unconscionable" role in bringing the matter.
Next to call was the plan's legal counsel, and he actually provided me with some information. The IRS has issued rules that such tax-preferential prepaid college plans have a ten-year shelf life and Jim would be ten years removed from his high school graduation the year after next.
Time to use it or lose it. If the plan is forcibly dissolved by the state, it's a taxable event for me plus penalties are involved.
The state doesn't care about an Arlington County court order to maintain the plan if possible for the child's benefit. I turned to the child's Mother and asked her for Jim's address so I could contact him about the matter.
This educator declined to provide me with my child's address, which I don't know, so that I could communicate with the young man about the plan which would provide for payment for him of 100% of tuition & fees for four years at any state university in Virginia. So here's a public announcement to James Bradley Rogers (he changed his name to her maiden name on his 21st birthday).
The plan I own and hold to be used for your benefit will be forcibly dissolved the year after next if you don't use it by then, and then there will be no college benefit to you ever from it or from me. Please contact me about the plan before then, I reside in your childhood home (you know the place, you stopped in at a neighbor's house recently on a supposedly impromptu visit).
"What information do you have about Jim's intention to use the plan that I own?" I asked, not having seen nor heard from my oldest child since 2007, despite the fact that he apparently lives within five miles of me. His Mother, a first grade teacher in my town, has stonily refused for years to give me any shred of information concerning any of our three children, who are all estranged from me due to her actions in overbearing their wills as children during our lengthy divorce, including disclosing their addresses or even whether they are well or not.
The plan's representative, not sensitive to my fiduciary duty as well as divorce-court ordered directive to maintain the plan if possible for the child's use was not inclined to answer any questions. For my part, you see, I have previously been sued by my children over "fiduciary" matters although the court termed the suit a "harassment" petition when it threw it out while sanctioning and ultimately assessing costs of almost $50,000 against their Mother for her "unconscionable" role in bringing the matter.
Next to call was the plan's legal counsel, and he actually provided me with some information. The IRS has issued rules that such tax-preferential prepaid college plans have a ten-year shelf life and Jim would be ten years removed from his high school graduation the year after next.
Time to use it or lose it. If the plan is forcibly dissolved by the state, it's a taxable event for me plus penalties are involved.
The state doesn't care about an Arlington County court order to maintain the plan if possible for the child's benefit. I turned to the child's Mother and asked her for Jim's address so I could contact him about the matter.
This educator declined to provide me with my child's address, which I don't know, so that I could communicate with the young man about the plan which would provide for payment for him of 100% of tuition & fees for four years at any state university in Virginia. So here's a public announcement to James Bradley Rogers (he changed his name to her maiden name on his 21st birthday).
The plan I own and hold to be used for your benefit will be forcibly dissolved the year after next if you don't use it by then, and then there will be no college benefit to you ever from it or from me. Please contact me about the plan before then, I reside in your childhood home (you know the place, you stopped in at a neighbor's house recently on a supposedly impromptu visit).
Sunday, December 2, 2012
'Tis The Season
Christmas time is upon us. For a person like me without children, it's a depressing time.
Actually I have three sons, ages 26, 24 and 23, and I presume they are well although their Mother refuses to share any information with me about their well being or even their addresses (she's a first grade school teacher in my town). None of my now-adult children has communicated with me for over half a decade, or with any Lamberton for almost a decade.
Cutting off one side of the family is a classic hallmark of Parental Alienation Syndrome (PAS), which some people (but not me!) contend is a form child abuse perpetrated by the primary custodial parent using the power inuring to the chief caregiver to insidiously overbear the will of emotionally vulnerable children. In my case, the standard final decree which was issued following the custody trial (joint custody & visitation every other weekend) gave me 16% of the total time with my children, which within a year had been subverted extra-judicially to zero percent of the time by the invidious actions of the coterie of "professionals" aligned with (paid for by) the Mother (their sick influence whipped one of my children into such a frenzy that he expressed violent ideation against me and himself--shame on all you "professionals").
But don't take my word about these divorce wars, read for yourself the findings of the Virginia Appellate Court upholding almost $50,000 in costs and sanctions being assessed against the Mother for her actions (pages 5-6 are especially revealing). And have a Merry Christmas with your families, you all.
Actually I have three sons, ages 26, 24 and 23, and I presume they are well although their Mother refuses to share any information with me about their well being or even their addresses (she's a first grade school teacher in my town). None of my now-adult children has communicated with me for over half a decade, or with any Lamberton for almost a decade.
Cutting off one side of the family is a classic hallmark of Parental Alienation Syndrome (PAS), which some people (but not me!) contend is a form child abuse perpetrated by the primary custodial parent using the power inuring to the chief caregiver to insidiously overbear the will of emotionally vulnerable children. In my case, the standard final decree which was issued following the custody trial (joint custody & visitation every other weekend) gave me 16% of the total time with my children, which within a year had been subverted extra-judicially to zero percent of the time by the invidious actions of the coterie of "professionals" aligned with (paid for by) the Mother (their sick influence whipped one of my children into such a frenzy that he expressed violent ideation against me and himself--shame on all you "professionals").
But don't take my word about these divorce wars, read for yourself the findings of the Virginia Appellate Court upholding almost $50,000 in costs and sanctions being assessed against the Mother for her actions (pages 5-6 are especially revealing). And have a Merry Christmas with your families, you all.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Still runnin'
I still run a little. Two years ago I returned from a recurrent injury-caused layoff and started my new paradigm--wear a brace while I run less miles with less pace and no races.
I also turned 60. Now I mostly run with the girls instead of the boys. I consider it more social and I enjoy the scenery much more. (A recent fall foliage noontime run.)
But life still intrudes and I got several niggling injuries and I got busy at work so for the last year my running has been off and on. The latest setback was a sprained foot I suffered three weeks ago when I stepped in a hidden hole on a run and almost went down as I rolled my foot.
I even went to urgent care for that one, but the injury healed quickly. Yesterday I took advantage of the Veteran's Day holiday and the 60 degree weather to ran 4 miles on the W'OD Trail in 40:00:60.
I was disappointed that I missed breaking 40 minutes by a fraction of a second but that reaction probably shows I'm trying to get serious about running regularly again. Today I ran on the Mall at noon with Markus, who I used to run with a lot and who has turned to barefoot running,
As we went along we took a lot of comments from whatever tourists were around. None of the wondering commentary was directed at me. I held Markus up today but he elevated my game because he has always been faster than me.
I used to be able to keep up with him a lot better. He was nice to me and kept slowing down while I huffed and puffed along. (Running with the boys in 2008. That's Markus in front.)
We did 6 miles in 55:14.
I also turned 60. Now I mostly run with the girls instead of the boys. I consider it more social and I enjoy the scenery much more. (A recent fall foliage noontime run.)
But life still intrudes and I got several niggling injuries and I got busy at work so for the last year my running has been off and on. The latest setback was a sprained foot I suffered three weeks ago when I stepped in a hidden hole on a run and almost went down as I rolled my foot.
I even went to urgent care for that one, but the injury healed quickly. Yesterday I took advantage of the Veteran's Day holiday and the 60 degree weather to ran 4 miles on the W'OD Trail in 40:00:60.
I was disappointed that I missed breaking 40 minutes by a fraction of a second but that reaction probably shows I'm trying to get serious about running regularly again. Today I ran on the Mall at noon with Markus, who I used to run with a lot and who has turned to barefoot running,
As we went along we took a lot of comments from whatever tourists were around. None of the wondering commentary was directed at me. I held Markus up today but he elevated my game because he has always been faster than me.
I used to be able to keep up with him a lot better. He was nice to me and kept slowing down while I huffed and puffed along. (Running with the boys in 2008. That's Markus in front.)
We did 6 miles in 55:14.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
The Eleventh Hour of the Eleventh Day...
On this Veterans Day I want to thank my father (Peleliu and Okinawa), brother (Beirut), uncles (Pacific naval battles; Philippines; North Africa), grandfather (Atlantic duty in WWI), other forebears (Andersonville; GAR duty) and veterans I knew or know (Battle of the Bulge; Normandy drop; Aleutian campaign; Normandy landings; Pacific Island campaigns; Korea; Vietnam; Cold War; 1st Gulf War; Iraq; Afghanistan) for their service and sacrifices on our behalf. (Below is a Doughboy forever ascendant in Astoria, Oregon.)
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