Those Old White Guys

One of my best friends from high school lost her dad today. He was 90 and died peacefully at home with 2 of his five children by his side; not a bad way to go, right?

When I heard the news, I noted the date, because me and dates? We have something going. Just the other day, I ran into a couple of friencquaintences (yes! by all means give me credit for that portmanteau word) at Target, and I had the occasion  to impress them with my knowledge of their birthdays. I wish I could take more credit for it, but (shrug) it's just how my brain works.

So, today, I thought of Nixon resigning. It was August 8, 1974, (Bobby Bloomer's birthday), and we had been to Great Adventure theme park with my aunt and cousins. That hot, sweaty night, with all the window fans blowing, we watched on TV as the president made a speech from the oval office that he would resign the next day. It was history.

How old was my friend's dad then? I wondered, and I calculated that he was 51, my age exactly. He was a fortunate man, and I personally wouldn't turn down another 39 years like those, but then I got to thinking. How old was Nixon then?

The answer-- 61. Just 10 years older than I am now. Hmm. So he was... 55 when he was elected. That seems impossible. How could that be? NIXON was only 4 years older than I am when he ran for president? But wait. The first time he ran, when he was that stodgy alternative to the young and vibrant JFK? He was just 47!

So, I did a bit of research into all those old, white guys who have led our nation. (Thank you, Wikipedia.) The median age is actually a youthful 54 and 11 months, which falls between Herbert Hoover and Lyndon Johnson. (Really? Really!) Seriously... Tyler, Fillmore, Grant, Garfield, Arthur, Cleveland, BOTH Roosevelts (FDR? C'mon!), Cleveland, Kennedy, Clinton, and Obama were all my age, or YOUNGER!, when elected president.

Gasp.

You know how politics are these days. I'm already following "Ready for Hillary" on Twitter, and I am ready for her-- mostly because she's a woman, but also because she will kick that median age up a notch.

Turning Point

It comes every summer, that clear sense that nothing lasts forever and that no matter what, fall is on its way. Was it the bright red maple leaf I saw tucked among all the green on the trail the other day? I nearly picked it up. Might it be the butternut squash and pumpkins(!) that are dominating our garden, despite the fact that not a single tomato has ripened? Could this unseasonably cool weather be the herald of even crisper days yet to come? Maybe it was our conversation with Richard and Annabelle this morning wishing them good luck as they start school tomorrow, or perhaps it was the time spent at my own school last week, on an interview committee, setting up Heidi's new class room-- even though I am disillusioned with my field, the pull is strong.

Oh, there are still 20 days until teachers report back and summer is officially ended for us, but this evening when I showered after the gym, I ignored my shorts and put on a comfy pair of sweat pants.

Roula-la-la

I ran into a former colleague and old friend in Target today, and she looked great. She's left public school teaching behind and spends her days raising her four-year-old, doing and teaching yoga, and blogging to let off steam.

She was never one to be shy with her opinion, and so I eagerly noted her blog address, and I share it now with you.

Shout out to Bitches Broo!

Friends with Benefits

My newest friends are a half-dozen or so national parks. Well, okay, they don't actually know me, but

I
really

 Like

them.

And it turns out those guys are a wealth of interesting information and spectacular photos. For example, Catoctin always tells me with a wink that "some parts of the park will be closed," meaning of course that the president will be at Camp David. The Badlands gossips shamelessly about fossils and stargazing, Acadia always shares gorgeous sunsets, and Great Falls is the first to let me know that the weather is going to be great so plan ahead to avoid the lines.

My BF GF means it, too: the cars went all the way from the gate down the access drive and around the corner to Georgetown Pike as we left there this gorgeous afternoon.

Teacher Knows Best

As I prepared dinner this evening, I had the TV tuned to Jeopardy. I like the show, I have even auditioned for it, but I am not a regular viewer. You couldn't have known that tonight though, as I shouted each answer (ok question-- but we know what they really are) at the television, despite being alone in the kitchen.

As much as I love summer vacation, I suspect I am suffering a bit from a certain type of withdrawal.

There are just not enough people asking me questions.

Orange is the New What-huh?

So many folks have recommended this Netflix original series to me that it seems for sure like "must see TV." (Remember that? the 90s were golden years, were they not?) So we watched the first episode tonight, and, "eh?" might be a little too strong.

I'll keep you posted.

Network Enabled

"What are you doing?" Heidi asked me a little while ago.

I turned from the computer. "Just entering a contest for a free trip to Vegas and listening to the only known recording of Virginia Woolf," I shrugged. "Why?"

Her raised eyebrows said it all.