Wordle

On By scottpetersenIn WordleLeave a comment

When I get up in the morning, I head downstairs to make the coffee, open the blinds, get the newspaper, organize my breakfast (normally cereal and blueberries) and turn on “Squawk Box.” When Donna comes down – if it’s after 7:00 a.m. – we turn on the “Today” show. Before I open the newspaper, I usually check my Fitbit sleep score, take a few sips of coffee and settle back to do Wordle.

I suspect most folks have heard of Wordle — the New York Times word puzzle to guess a 5 letter word in no more than 6 attempts. The Wordle prototype was first developed in 2013 by a Welsh software engineer – Josh Wardle. On January 31, 2022, the New York Times acquired Wordle from Wardle (say that three times real fast) for a “low seven figure” amount. On November 1, 2021, there were 90 players. On January 2, 2022, there were 300,000 – and one week later there were over two million!

For me Wordle is a way to get my small brain activated in the a.m. The game usually takes me two or three minutes. So far, my statistics show 882 games played, a maximum streak of 86 and a win percentage of 97%. My first word usually contains 3 vowels (“Radio” “Ratio” “Raise” or “Ocean”) though occasionally I enter a quirky pick. I’ve never gotten it in one guess – but I have 41 in two (one was “Acorn” after entering “Ocean”); 210 in three; and 332 in four. I have “lost” (not done it in 6 or less guesses) 23 times. If you’ve never done it – give it a whirl. I mean wordle. . . .

Beer for my Horses

On By scottpetersenIn Beer for my HorsesLeave a comment

[A repeat from April 16, 2015] When I was a State’s Attorney at 26th & California, I prosecuted very bad people.  It was 40 years ago but I still go back every year or two to testify in parole hearings – objecting to release – for the really bad ones (3/20/14).  Murder trials – jury and bench – were very emotional.  Think of your worst nightmare and know that there are people out there who are worse.   In one capital case, a chap had one-by-one murdered perhaps 15 people (or was it 18) as a hired killer.  He would slit your throat as easily as he would hold the door open for an old lady.   Jury verdict:  guilty. 

Our culture of violence is a breeding ground for bad stuff (1/2/13).  We glorify the new “Game of War.”  There is horrific violence in video games for children.  Hollywood offers disturbing brutality and immorality.  And some cheer the blood and guts in ultimate fighting (who can watch this stuff?).   Yet remember that we are often reminded – it is Bibles, the American flag and the Pledge of Allegiance that present shocking dangers to our Society!  But I digress. . . . .

In 2003, Toby Keith and Willie Nelson released a music video that most can relate to.  “Beer for my Horses” won the Country Music Awards “Best Music Video” award later in the year.  It’s a first since in this video – no one sings!   It’s the kind of music that will make you narrow your eyes and smile.  You’ll want to raise up a glass – and share a a bottle of Dos Equis with a large four-legged pal.  Watch –  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1JOFhfoAD4     Maybe this is a way to deal with the boys and girls from ISIS, Boko Haram, Al-Shabaab, Hezbollah, Hamas, Al-Qaeda, the Taliban, and the bad people on our own shore.  Beer for my horses . . . .

Naps and Cold Showers

On By scottpetersenIn Naps and cold showersLeave a comment

Until the time of my retirement, you could probably count on one hand then number of naps I enjoyed since the age of 3 or 4. It was a seventy year hiatus. And then. . . . .

Maybe it was the weather. Perhaps the Covid bugs flitting around. Then again, maybe it was . . . . ummm age. I haven’t changed much since I was in grade school (and I weigh what I did in college) but these days the sandman starts knocking on my door in the late afternoon. And I often relent. It’s usually a 20 minute doze but when I awaken from my siesta – I’m usually ready for. . . ummm . . . . dinner.

In talking to others of my vintage, I have learned that naps are not an uncommon event. They are well-received. And appreciated. One friend said that his nap is the “best part” of his day.

As to cold showers, let me offer some context. Over the years, I have enjoyed hot showers — especially in cold weather. I like saunas, steam rooms and sunny days when toodling around the golf course. But lately my druthers in that department have mutated a bit. While I still enjoy a toasty shower whatever the weather – my new custom is to end with the water on as cold as it will go. It helps get my 190 pounds of protoplasm somewhat awake. And moving. Then I dry off, brush my teeth, comb my hair (no smart aleck comments), get dressed . . . . yawn. . . . and think about taking a nap. . . . .

Reach, Throw, Row, Go!

On By scottpetersenIn Lifesaving Merit Badge, Reach throw row goLeave a comment

[A summer repeat of June 7, 2022] In my freshman year of college, I got a job at the Moline YMCA – as a lifeguard for the indoor pool. There was hardly ever anyone there – but they needed a lifeguard and so I took afternoon hours. After class. I was hired as a lifeguard because I had Lifesaving Merit Badge and the American Red Cross Lifeguard certification. In these happy days of spring and summer, it’s good to know a few things – about saving lives. . . . .

The one mantra that I learned early and often was “Reach, Throw, Row, Go!” Trying to save someone from drowning does not always require diving into the water. If the person is 3 feet away, Reach for them – with your hand or a stick or rope. And pull them to safety. Or Throw a ring buoy (throw it behind them so you can pull it forward – and snag the person). If the person is far from shore in a lake or river. Choppy water. And you have a rowboat, then hop in the boat – and get out there. Finally – if all other options are exhausted – GO! Jump in the water and swim out. So you don’t get pulled under by flailing arms, go under the water, turn the person around, bump them up to the surface with your hip – and toss an arm over their chest and start moving. Usually the flailing stops. If you Go, ya gotta be careful. A drowning person can grab on to you putting your life at risk. The Red Cross does not encourage the “Go” unless there is no other option.

People who are drowning will have their head down. Or mouth back. Body vertical. Legs not moving. Arms may be flailing but the head my be under water. Struggling to get back up. Watch their head.

Once on shore, if a person is unconscious, there is precious little time. Begin with some quick mouth to mouth resuscitation – to get air into lungs. This may prompt vomiting. If there is no pulse – or a weak one – begin CPR. To learn more – go to https://www.redcross.org/take-a-class/lifeguarding/lifeguard-training/lifeguard-certification

In short – keep watch. And always be ready. . . . .

Ikigai

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“The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.” — Mark Twain

Why are we here? Why are YOU here? Each one of us desires to have meaning in his/her life and yet we often struggle for purpose. In the Japanese language, the word iki means “life” and the word gai means “value.” Ikigai is a term that unites the joy of life with a sense of purpose. In short – it equates to a reason for living.

Ikigai offers a visual tool (below) – that helps to explain its meaning. Look at the four circles – each containing a single element: passion (what we love to do); what we are good at; a profession (where we can earn money); and our mission (what the world needs). Interestingly, I have seen a similar diagram offered to job-seekers as a guide to seeking meaningful employment. While it is doubtful that anyone can achieve this confluence of perfection, what remains important is recognizing that each one of us can make a difference. Having the passion to do so is all it takes. . . . .

Sand Lot Baseball

On By scottpetersenIn Regulations, Sand lot baseballLeave a comment

[A repeat from June 7, 2013] When I was a kid, I played sand lot baseball. We would get 15 to 20 guys on any given Saturday morning in the park by Sunset School.  Two of the older boys (age 12 or 13) would pick the teams. “Meyer” “Shutt” “Kaspari” “Wilkes” “Knox” “Barsi” “Hodson” and so on. “Petersen” was usually one of the last picked.  But no hard feelings. And the game would begin.  Boys ran the game. There were no adult coaches or overseers. When a kid slid into second base and the tag was close, 10 year old boys would decide “safe” or “out.” Sometimes there would be an argument. A shove. Then it was back to baseball. It worked like a charm. . . . Regulations were not needed.  We made the rules as we went along. . . . . and they were fair.    

Government, however, is different.  We are one of the most regulated and heavily-taxed countries in the world.  And it’s getting worse.  Layers and layers of government, laws, ordinances, regulations, policies and such.   And there is a tax on everything.   Government grows incrementally.  Counties.  Cities.  Districts.  Municipalities.  Townships.  School districts (13,506 in the U.S. with 852 of them in Illinois alone).  Each with its own rules.  Regulations.   Employees.  Whereas it used to be that (not long ago) 1 out of 15 of those employed in America were government workers. Today it is 1 out of 4.6 (Bureau of Labor Statistics).   And many earn more than they would in the private sector.  The government does not trust its citizens to play sand lot baseball.   It seems like the government wants to regulate our lives and make decisions for us.   And government grows.  With more employees.  More taxes.  Sound cynical?  If you disagree, call me – I have a bridge in Brooklyn that I’d like to sell you . . . . .

Hank

On By scottpetersenIn Hank Sauer1 Comment

My favorite baseball player as a kid was Hank Sauer – left fielder for the (then) hapless Chicago Cubs.  I tried – desperately – to get his autograph.   My dad would take me to Wrigley Field and I’d gallop down the steps to troll for autographs.  I remember one day Hank was walking a few feet away.  I screamed at him “Hank!  Hank!  Mister Sauer!”  He looked at me like I was a 9 year old lunatic.  And walked on. . . . . 

Some years ago, I had an article published which talked about Hank and how I was never able to get his autograph.  Someone read the article and sent me a note that Hank was living in Milbrea, California.   The address was included.  Sooooo, I sent him a letter – including a copy of the article. And I mentioned that I was his biggest fan in the world.  A few weeks later, I arrived at my office one morning and there was a package on my desk.  In the corner was a return address sticker shaped like a baseball.   Between the stitching, it said “Hank Sauer.”  My eyes filled with tears and I opened the package.  Inside was a large album full of original pictures of Hank (a few signed), original baseball cards and. . . .  a priceless handwritten sentiment – “To Scott – a Chicago Friend – Hank Sauer.”

A few months later, I had a call from Jean – Hank’s wife – asking me to return the album. Reason – she had an idea. I reluctantly sent it back. A few months later it arrived back – with a second album full of pictures, news articles – and inscribed “Dear Scott, Now you have a(sic) album for each side of your desk! My Chicago Fan. Hank Sauer.”

Hank passed away in August 2001.  But I will always relish the fact that I “hit the high note” in my autograph collecting career.  It wasn’t a George Washington letter.  Or Henry VIII.  I got Hank Sauer. . .

Hitchhiking

On By scottpetersenIn HitchhikingLeave a comment

[A repeat from September 4, 2016] Does anyone hitchhike anymore?  I can’t remember the last time I saw someone standing on the side of the road.  Arm extended.  Thumb pointed up.   When I was at Augustana College in Rock Island, if I wanted to go home, my options were to take the train (to the tune of twenty bucks) or hitchhike.  I usually chose the latter option. 

My modus operandi was to Magic Marker a sign “Augie Student to Chicago.”  And on the back “Augie student to Mt. Prospect.”  And I’d stand on the street outside my dorm.  Hold up the sign.  And stick out my thumb.  And always got a ride.  And I lived to tell the tale. 

The first rides would usually cart me off to Interstate 80 and drop me off.  There, I’d stand at the entrance ramp looking forlorn and holding my sign.  And I was always picked up.

Once (Scout’s Honor) a big tractor trailer stopped.  I hustled up and climbed in.  The driver groaned “I’m sick and need to sleep.  If you wanna drive, I’m going to Route 47.”  Soooooo I traded places with the driver.  He shifted a few of the floor gears and off I went — piloting an 18 wheeler.  The driver conked out instantly leaning against the door.  At Rte. 47, I slowed to a stop.  The driver took over and I hopped out, walked to the down ramp and held up my sign. 

Hitchhiking was so popular back in the day that Marvin Gaye wrote a song with the title “Hitch Hike.”  The song was released in 1962 in Gaye’s “That Stubborn Kinda Fellow” album.  In 1965 the Rolling Stones released their own version.  Listening to this music does bring back memories. . . . . https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fmClweWITZQ  

Brothers

On By scottpetersenIn Augustana College, BrothersLeave a comment

“Behold how good and how pleasant it is for brothers to dwell together in unity.  It is like the precious ointment upon the head . . . . and as the dew that descended upon the mountains of Zion . . . .”  Psalm 133:1-2

[A repeat of August 5, 2015] In July 2015, I posted on attending the 100th anniversary of the Gamma Alpha Beta fraternity at Augustana College.   Many of the brothers from my era showed up.  We have remained a close-knit group since graduation.  This last weekend, we had a reunion of “GAB’s” in Rockford with about 20+ brothers and wives — all of my vintage.

I was not destined for college (see post of October 13, 2013).  My future was to work as an assistant plumber after high school.  Frankly, it’s a fluke that I even applied (around the time of high school graduation) and got in to “college.”  And that I came to know my Brothers. 

There are amazing memories and stories.  Once – my entire pledge class was corralled by police and taken off to the police station for borrowing a neighbor’s ladder at midnight (the neighbor was awake, thought it was theft and called the police).  One quick-witted pledge escaped detention by launching himself over a window well and clambering up onto a fire escape.   Yeah.  That was me. . . . 

The GAB’s won the Homecoming Sing with the ballad I later sang to my daughter Lauren every night from the time she was a baby — “Oh Shenendoah.”   It was that song I picked for the Father-Daughter dance at her wedding (see post of August 14, 2011).  We had tears in our eyes as the music played.  It’s interesting how when you meet old friends, you pick up where you left off.    It’s as if time stands still and I’m 19 years old again.  With my brothers. In my brain, I’m still 19.  Now if only my body would cooperate . . . . .        

The years go quickly. . .

On By scottpetersenIn Psalm 90:10, The days are long but the years go quickly1 Comment

Our days may come to seventy years,
    or eighty, if our strength endures;
yet the best of them are but trouble and sorrow,
    for they quickly pass, and we fly away. Psalm 90:10

For years I have heard the expression “the days are long and arduous – but the years go quickly.” And certainly that is true. It’s only recently that the nuance of this term has begun to register.

It seems like yesterday that . . . . . you know. School. Girlfriend (boyfriend). Marriage. Work. Children. And. . . . and here we are. A dear friend of mine recently lost his wife and he said to me “I wish the pastor had said when we were married that we should each be prepared – to lose the other – as the years go on.” And certainly that’s true. The years go quickly. . . . .

Part of the message here is that each day is a gift. And each day should be appreciated for what it is. A new chance to live. Make a difference. And each morning, as our eyes open, we yawn, check the clock and get up to trot down the hall – we might say . . . . “thank you Lord for this new day” . . . and for me — I then stretch, get up . . . and go make the coffee. . .