Farewell

Written in honor of Mr. Jack McDonald

1925-2011

It was a Thursday evening in August when the Nault invasion commenced. We were busy being charmed by the shady narrow streets  while looking for the Inn At Court Square. I spotted the small gang of McDonalds waving us up to the porch where they awaited our arrival. It was a great welcome and good start to a laid back visit to a place I’d never been, but with people who I’ve long been endeared to.

Kay and I have been friends since junior high school but my first McDonald encounter occurred at the Garden City Pool. I was 5 and Mrs. McDonald, the woman who has become a nationally renowned swimming coach, reached down and yanked me out of the water by my swim suit and lectured me on water safety. The woman is, and always has been formidible.

Kay has proven to be a life long bosom buddy although we lost touch with each other for a good long while. Back in June, she issued a casual invite for me to swing by Virginia to see her and her family. I’m not sure if she thought I’d really take her up on it but let that be a lesson in don’t say things you don’t mean.

Dylan, Sydney & Kay, Charlottesville

Although I had not seen Mr & Mrs McDonald since they moved from Union Lake, Jack embraced our visit with great gusto and wormed his way into my 2 teenage daughters hearts. I loved the way he interacted with them, always the teacher. They may not have realized it at the time, but they were definitely being schooled.

Like many old timers, as my dad likes to call himself, you could see he had gotten set in his ways. I’m old enough to appreciate that. Jack was truly a life long intellectual explorer who loved to share his knowledge. Not in a boorish way, he was inquisitive and interested in the places my life had taken me since I had last seen him.

We discussed old times, Garden City, the families we were both so proud of. I was an intent listener as he bragged about his wife, his kids and grandchildren. I encouraged him to update his musical repertoire with some Beatles. He was fascinated by my new  talents related to blogging and social media. We exchanged our “contact info” and he wondered if I could give him some advice on setting up his own blog.

Let's go!

We all spent our last evening in Charlottesville attending a Charlottesville Ladies Arm Wrestling fundraiser. Our whole group, ranging from young to old made our way out into the hot, steamy night, to see some pretty theatrical arm wrestling. It was crowded and sticky in the tent but we laughed our way through it.

attending CLAW

Returning back to the condo, one arm wrestling challenge led to another and before we knew it we had Lois demonstrating her supreme arm wrestling coaching skills while we enjoyed some blueberry pie.

Dylan & Lois wrestle it out (Lois won)

I hope I’m still having that much fun participating in new experiences when I’m in my eighties.

Upon our return to Austin, Jack was true to his word, following up with me by email, reading my stories and offering me some ego boosting feedback. I sent him pictures of their former house in Garden City, a place where I had spent a lot of time in my teenage years. Swimming in their backyard pool I learned a perfect breast stroke, but never managed the simplest synchronized swimming move.

Before Kay notified me of her father’s unexpected passing, I had been plotting how I could eek out another invite next summer and time my visit to coincide with Jack and  Lois’s travel. I am saddened by the reality of how that won’t be possible now.

Last summer, I could have made a hundred excuses to bypass Virginia and  to go straight to Asheville to see my dad. I could have rationalized that I could do the trip next summer when we weren’t so worn out. Having already driven close to 6000 miles on the summer road trip, our itinerant lifestyle was beginning to wear on all of us.

Today, I am so thankful I followed my gut and drove the extra miles to visit Kay, Leslie, Candace, Lois and Jack in Charlottesville this past summer. It leaves me with a very special memory I would have otherwise missed out on.

John (Jack) McDonald

1925-2011

Intellectual motivator

Entertainer

Educator

Husband

Father

Grandfather

Freind

Is Justin Timberlake The New Take Home Chef?

Jordan asked Justin Timberlake to show her a certain dance move from his Like I Love You music video. She had a big presentation to a financial institution she was preparing for and she was sure if she busted out a move it would sell her investment strategy. She was dressed for a run in a t-shirt, shorts and her new Heidi Klum shoes.

In reality, my oldest daughter Jordan does maintain a pretty rigorous work out schedule including running. Holding a Principal position at a major consulting firm she often leads presentations to companies who have large investment portfolios. If she really busted out a move during one it would probably be the first time in the history of the corporate boardroom.

 She inquired of JT, how do you do that thing with your feet? JT, who was sitting in the yard by her, reached over and moved her feet with his hands to demonstrate.He turned to my son, Michael and said, "do you have that song?" Michael scrolled through the iTunes a put on something similar, but not by JT.

I turned and shot him the death stare which was really non verbal communication for: “Justin Timberlake is here in our yard and you put on a sound alike? Put on one of my JT cd’s”.

The smell of smoke drifted through our yard and JT said, “ I feel like ribs. I make great ribs. If I can borrow your car I’ll run to the grocery and get some cooking supplies.” I handed the keys to my freshly waxed 2011 Ford Edge. I wanted to ask him if he wanted me to tag along but I didn’t.

He started the car. I came out to show him how to work “my Ford Touch” but I couldn’t find him. Then I heard the car driving down the street with the music blaring, so I guessed he figured it out on his own.

Then we realized we needed baking potatoes. I wanted to call or send a text but what normal person had Justin’s cell phone number?

Then I thought of a very gifted child hood schoolmate, Louis Resto. He’s got a Grammy and an Oscar for his song writing with and for Eminem, surely he has JT’s number.No answer.

In reality, I am a huge Justin Timberlake fan. I do own a 2011 Ford Edge. I did go to school in Garden City and was a friend of Luis Resto's big brother Mario. Their whole family was quite musical and have made successful careers for themselves and still live in the Detroit area. I just remember Luis as Mario's little bro who got shooed away when the big kids were hanging out.

Where is Curtis Stone, The Take Home Chef when you need him? So I got in the other car, thinking I would go get the potatoes myself. Driving out of the subdivision I spotted black smoke billowing in the sky from a wildfire. The further I drove I noted several small fires around.

I should have been freaked out, given the recent wildfire disasters this season. But I reasoned that since it was not a windy day the likely hood of the fires growing out of control was slim. Then I saw flying embers landing on lawns and  scantily dressed people were running around quickly stomping them out.

In reality, this Midwestern girl has been officially freaked out by the recent wildfires in Austin. I've gotten way more up close and personal with the phenomenon than I ever planned. Fire period has always scared me. I don't even like to light matches. During the fires we experienced in this hellishly hot, drought ridden state I felt like the whole place could burst into flames with the slightest provocation.

Realizing my family was at home with no vehicles (I had one, Justin had the other) I decided  to turn around to make my way home, in case we were evacuated again.  Just then I came upon a couple of baby deer all snuggled beside the road sleeping like a bunch of curled up cats, exhausted from running from the small fires.

When I got home the van lines was parked across the driveway, loading up.

Now doesn’t that just figure!? A moving truck is loading up all of our household belongings. Meanwhile Justin Timberlake is on his way back to my house with ribs to barbecue just when Michael got the right CD playing. Don't load that Weber grill, what ever you do.

The only way this impromptu dinner party could get any more complicated is if those spotty wildfires flare up and merge and head towards the whole kitten caboodle.

Back in the day we called that Dream Weaving, made famous by then (1970's) foxy Gary Wright. No market grabbing name change for this guy, there were just too many musical "Garys" in that era. Not to be confused with my 8th grade boyfriend, Gary DiGeorgio.

In reality, I'm not sure why my older kids were in my dream about Austin, since they live in Chicago. I do know I desperately miss them at times since we moved far far away.

I have no idea why Justin Timberlake happens to be in my yard, or where the car he must have came in is. This is Austin after all, not NYC. He couldn't have taken the subway.

I have seen deer curled up like kittens sleeping by the road, but that would have been in Northern Michigan on a lakeside road.

And believe me when I say I'd love for the Justin Timberlake to come show my buttoned up business daughter a few moves she could bust out during a board meeting and get the  corporate investing community buzzing.

I have no doubt JT knows a little something about serving up great ribs since opening Southern Hospitality in his hometown of Memphis, Tennessee.

In reality, I don't usually remember dreams, and have no idea what dream interpretation really means. I can see how all of the things floating around my brain mix together to make a pretty disjointed  but fun story.

At least I didn't wake up on Dexters table getting all Dexterized.