Perfect Weather Enhances Victoria, B.C. Trip With Long-Time Friends

It isn't often you get to visit a real castle.  But we did so last weekend on a trip to Victoria, B.C. with our long-time friends, Dwight and Lynnette Klassen, from discovery Bay, California.  Dwight and I have been friends for over 50 years, first meeting as incoming freshmen at Westmont College in Santa Barbara, California.  That's Craigdarroch Castle above, located in the heart of Victoria.  Completed in 1908, the castle was primarily the home of coal barron Robert Dunsmuir (the namesake of the city of Dunsmuir, California) and his wife, Joan, and several children and grandchildren.  It has also served as a military hospital, a college and a music school.







Above are Dwight, Lynnette and Kay Lynne at the entrance to the castle.  Below is the "everyday" dining room of the Dunsmuirs, reflecting the opulence in which the very rich lived at the beginning of the 20th century.

The formal dining room used when there were guests was even more elaborate.





We arrived in Canada on Friday evening and made our way to Brentwood Bay, where Kay Lynne and I had first visited about 40 years ago.  Then it was called Brentwood Inn and was a small motel with a coffee shop.  Now it is Brentwood Bay Lodge and Pub with hundreds of waterfront rooms and a dock and marina at water's edge.  That's the four old friends above, Lynnette, Dwight, Kay Lynne and moi.

On Saturday, we visited the Royal Canadian Museum, also in downtown Victoria, known for its exhbits of pre-historic creatures and its re-creation of Victoria streets as they looked about 100 years ago.   Above photo is a reconstruction of one of the dinosaur skeletons.

Saturday morning we spent down at the harbor.  Above pic was taken from a harbor dock looking toward the famous Empress Hotel.  We passed on afternoon tea this time.

We enjoyed absolutely fabulous weather for the entire weekend -- an unusual occurrence in Victoria.  On the way back to the ferry dock in Sydney for the return trip home, we stopped and had lunch at the Rum Runner Pub, a delightful eatery.  Above is the view from the restaurant looking back toward Anacortes and Mt. Baker, which you can make out in the distant mountain range just to the right of center.  You can click on any photo for a larger view of it.  The ferry ride back through the San Juan Islands was the perfect ending to a wonderful weekend.

Photo Post - A Whale of A Good Time With Friends

The killer whale called the Orca (above) is what we were seeking to view in its natural habitat.  Our long-time friends, Ed and Darlene Wall from San Jose, California, visited us last week, and so we went on the Victoria Clipper on a whale-watching excursion last Thursday.   On the 2-1/2 hour search on the Clipper we did see several Orcas swimming in families -- all but one from the local "J" pod, but none as close as in the shot above, which was taken on a similar trip in 2008.

Above, we are approaching the Deception Pass Bridge at the north end of Whidbey Island on our way to where the whales frolic, mostly in the Strait of Juan de Fuca adjacent to the San Juan Islands.  The area just past the bridge was shrouded in fog for several miles until we got out in open water.

After the whale-watching, we pulled into Friday Harbor to have a late lunch.  Coincidentally, the Washington State ferry, the Yakima, was just pulling into her berth, presumably on her way to Sydney, BC, near Victoria.

Above are Ed & Darlene making their way back to the Clipper after a short shopping jaunt following lunch.

The actual harbor at Friday Harbor bustles with activity all the time.  As in any Washington State harbor, you'll find a diverse variety of locally owned vessels.

Just as we were getting ready to board the Clipper for our return voyage to Seattle, the movie-famous schooner, Spike Africa, chugged back toward her berth after an afternoon of charter sailing with a load of tourists.  Built by well known maritimer, Bob Sloan, she is functionally elegant and provides an unforgettable sailing adventure for all who climb aboard.

Three Ancient Jocks Attempt to Conquer Spring Training in Phoenix – Post #2

My Smart Phone Saves Our Bacon

When three old codgers, once proficient baseball team mates, rendezvous in Phoenix some 50 years after their prime to take in several Spring Training games – well, strange things can happen.

Cell phones can vanish. Deteriorating brain cells can short out and cause the loss of all sense of direction. Meticulously laid plans can unravel. And it all happened the first day we were there (see previous post).

Of the three of us, Joe is probably the least tech savvy, but I’m not around him enough to really know. He’s a retired high school teacher, as is Dwight, and they obviously had to have enough skills to navigate the school system – of 10 years ago. However, Joe had given his cell phone to his daughter recently and came on the trip without one.

As we learned after the fact, Dwight’s cell had fallen out of the pocket of his loosely fitted pants onto the floor of his car on the way to his departing airport, and he arrived in Arizona without one as well. As for myself, I’m an age-appropriate tech junkie, so my phone was strapped securely to my belt.

Why is this important? My smart phone (an i-phone4) saved our bacon. Many times.

Of course the phone has built-in GPS, and so we were able to easily navigate out of the airport and quickly head in the right direction to the ballpark of the first game we were going to see. Dwight drove the rental car, I sat in the right seat as navigator, and Joe periodically – no, often – shouted what he perceived as warnings from the back seat – which were usually ignored.

The phone GPS system does not talk to you sweetly with directions. However, it is a good mapping device, and shows your location, so you can navigate better than if you had a paper map. And it’s search feature was primarily the element which saved the hides of these old, directionally handicapped friends.

For example, after the first game in Scottsdale on Tuesday, I just plugged in the name of our hotel in Mesa (we got by far the best deal there), and my trusty phone pointed the way without error. When we got hungry later in the evening, the i-phone suggested three great restaurants, all less than a mile away.

And so it went. When Joe needed to text his daughter, it was a snap. When we needed to find the Giants’ minor league practice facility (photo above) – no problem. And when we needed to find the best way to drive 60 miles to the Mariners’ game in Peoria on Thursday, the i-phone came through again.

I wonder how bad-off these three old friends would have been without a smart phone. Not sure I want to think much about that.

Three Ancient Jocks Attempt to Conquer Spring Training in Phoenix

POST #1 – Almost A Strike Out on Day One

I can’t remember exactly when we decided to go to Spring Training, but I think it was back in January. Several of us San Jose State college roommates (from back in the late 1950’s) had been emailing about which San Francisco Giants games we wanted to attend this year – something we did initially a few years ago.

Somehow we struck on the idea of going to Spring Training in Arizona where “you can see the teams and players up close,” rather than going to regular season games. After many digital discussions, we picked some dates that seemed to work. The Cubs at the Giants home stadium in Scottsdale last Tuesday afternoon (above photo), the Indians (also at Scottsdale) on Wednesday afternoon, and the Mariners at their home stadium in Peoria against the Giants on Thursday evening. We were happy with the schedule.

The two other guys, Dwight Klassen of Discovery Bay, California, and Joe Medal of San Jose, California are Giants fans of course. I’ve been a Giants fan since the Bobby Thompson home run in 1951 against the Dodgers, which got them into the World Series that year. All three of us lived together in college and have been friends ever since. Our birthdates are separated by only a month, and all of us love every aspect of the incredible game of baseball.

I should point out that we played a fairly high level of organized softball together for almost 10 years after college – not the slow pitch variety that is so popular now, but the fast pitch version where the ball travels nearly as fast as a baseball, but the pitcher’s mound is 20-feet closer to the batter than in baseball. If you blink at the plate, the ball is in the catcher’s glove.

Enough history. We planned to meet in Phoenix at Sky Harbor airport last Tuesday morning about 10:30, which would give us plenty of time to get to Scottsdale by the 1:05 game time. Or so we thought.

I tried calling Dwight’s cell phone as soon as I landed about 10:15. I muttered as the phone message said, “the Verizon customer you are trying to reach is unavailable at this time.” “Where could he be?” I thought. Dwight is not exactly a techno freak, and I immediately wondered if he had forgotten his phone (which has happened before).

I called his wife a bit later when I realized that Dwight and Joe came in at one terminal and I had arrived at another. There was no way we could meet “at baggage” as we had arranged, because each terminal had its own baggage pick up. STRIKE ONE.

I determined that the best chance of meeting up with them (especially if Dwight had no phone) was to take the shuttle bus over to the car rental center and we would likely run into each other there. Wrong. After an hour’s wait, I finally called Dwight’s wife at their home and asked if she knew if he had taken his phone with him. She had no idea, but thought so. So I told her I was at the car rental center in case Dwight called home asking if she’d heard from me. Turns out it was good that I had done so.

I then went over to the car rental agency with whom I knew he had made the reservation and asked if they had a car ready for Klassen. After several minutes of looking, the agent said, “We can’t find a thing under that name.” STRIKE TWO. And it was less than two hours to game time. I was getting very antsy.

Finally, a half hour later, here comes Dwight and Joe, looking frustrated and a bit disheveled. “Where’s your phone? I ask him. “It must have dropped out of my pocket in the car before I walked into the Oakland airport,” he said sheepishly. “I don’t have it.” Fortunately, he had been able to call his wife and find out where I was.

Ok, now to solve the car dilemma. Of course the biggest dilemma was the comedy of misunderstandings, wrong turns and incorrect assumptions made by three old men who used to be able to easily get ‘em out on the ball field. Age is not kind, even to old athletes.

To make a long story short, using my cell phone, Dwight finally tracked down the persons with whom he had made the reservation (a “travel club” with special deals) and we were able to get our car and head towards Scottsdale. In the frustrating process, we learned the rental agency would have been happy to provide us with a car for three days – but at more than $800! Our “club rate” was only $165, so we were pretty freaked until Dwight got it worked out. Amazing how supply, demand and a simple advance reservation can affect the price you end up paying. O yeah, and spelling the customer’s name correctly (they had it under Klaason, not Klassen, so the computer search did not bring it up).

Our buddy Joe just sat contentedly under his large, fedora-like wide-brimmed hat while Dwight and I stewed over the mix-up. Joe is a straightline guy – relatively unaffected by circumstance.

We finally arrived at the stadium just as the National Anthem was being sung. But of course in downtown Scottsdale, there wasn’t a parking place within a half mile of the stadium. We finally found a spot quite a ways away and began the long, slow walk. Tres viejecitos andando mas despacio.

The first good thing that happened to us that day was in the form of a pretty young college gal who was driving a converted golf cart that was carting passengers from their cars to the field. We jumped on, and, later minus $10, arrived at our seats just as the Giants were coming to bat.

The Cubs eventually won, 8-6, but something happened after the game that had NEVER before happened to any of us. We couldn’t remember where we had parked. New city. New ballpark. New streets. Pretty girl driving the golf cart. We were doomed.

For 45 minutes after the game we drove around the stadium area to no avail. We kept explaining to the kind post-game cart driver where we thought the car was, and he would drive there – but our car was nowhere to be seen. Dwight might could be excused as he sat up front next to the young lady, while Joe and I were talking in the back and never paid attention to where we got on the jitney. And I didn’t mark the gps on my phone.

Eventually the after-game driver found the car, based on descriptions of the area we each thought we remembered. Ageing is wonderful in many ways – but not when you’re in a strange place. It was almost STRIKE THREE, but we finally, sheepishly, got in our car and headed for the hotel.

Is Las Vegas Losing it’s Luster?

Kay Lynne and I spent a few days in Las Vegas this past week, mainly to enjoy some time in a warmer, sunny clime with lifelong friends, Dwight and Lynnette Klassen.

We encountered a city that is going through some enigmatic changes.

Of course we had to go through the casino to get to our room on the 21st floor of the Mirage, and we found the cavernous gambling center rather startlingly sparsely filled. Nearly three quarters of the slots and gaming tables were empty in a place that was relatively recently designed to accommodate large crowds of people.

We weren’t there long enough nor did we visit enough other places to make an accurate observation, but it sure seemed like there were FAR less people there this time than when we last visited the city in January of 2008.

There were two high points, for me at least, on the trip. The first was the latest Cirque du Soleil show, Viva Elvis (top pic -- look closely; those are acrobats on a large "jungle Jim" set designed in the shape of a guitar), at the incredibly beautiful Aria Resort in the new city center complex. Btw, the city center complex (photo above), in contrast to the Mega-Casinos, is bustling with activity – especially the Crystals Retail and Entertainment Center.

It’s hard to put into words what happens at a Cirque du Soleil show. It’s a truly unbelievable combination of art, physicality, acrobatics, music, sound, video, film and visuals. I would even call it “sensory overload”. Suffice it to say, if you haven’t seen a Cirque du Soleil performance – do so if you can!

The other high point was a visit to the new Hoover Dam Bypass Bridge which spans Black Canyon some 900 feet above the Colorado River. You can’t see much while crossing the bridge (it’s walled about five feet high on each side for safety reasons) but from the visitors center you can actually walk across the dam side of the bridge. Above photo was taken from a helicopter high above the structure after its completion last October but before traffic was allowed across it.

Dwight and I took a side trip to the site (on the north end of the Strip) of the Pawn Stars reality TV show on the History Channel. It’s amazing what television exposure will do. A perpetual long line of people stand in line daily to get inside the shop where Rick Harrison, his curmudgeonly father, son Corey and “gofer” Chumley roam the aisles. Interestingly, two nearby pawn shops were virtually desolate.

A Perfectly Beautiful Wedding and A Get Together With Old Friends

Almost two weeks ago Kay Lynne and I left for a short week’s visit to the San Francisco Bay Area, primarily to attend the wedding of our nephew Mike Narva, but also to touch base with our long-time friends there. Pic above was taken at a get together of long-time friends the first evening we arrived. This is the group who first met in a church “young married’s” class over 40 years ago (with two exceptions). Left to right are Ed Wall, Troy Lester (Ted’s betrothed), Mike & Gwen Silkwood, Kay Lynne, moi, Darlene Wall and Ted Petersen.

We also visited old school friends in San Jose and in Discovery Bay before and after the wedding which was on August 7. Mike and Ginny Silver (above) were married in a beautiful outdoor ceremony in the small community of La Honda, near Half Moon Bay. Mike's dad, my cousin Jim Narva, and wife, Kay, live in Sunnyvale, while the new bride and groom will live in Santa Clara.

It could not have been a better weekend. We got to enjoy a gorgeous wedding, get together with relatives and see friends we have known seemingly forever. Old friends are good friends.

Enjoying Good Times With Old Friends

Our California friends of some 46 years, Ed and Darlene Wall, stopped by this past week for a couple of days while visiting the Pacific Northwest. They are both natives of the Bremerton area, and my wife and I are mostly Californians. So it seems a bit ironic that they now come to their old haunting grounds to see us.

Whenever Ed and I have a chance to be together, going fishing is high on the priority list. Of course you have to know that the odds of being able to CATCH a fish by just dropping in on a lake, are pretty long. Except for the “Koskela Guide Service.”

We started out at Blackmans Lake, located smack dab in the middle of the city of Snohomish, but had no luck at all. We then headed for Flowing Lake, about ten miles north-northeast, and it wasn’t too long before Ed was fighting a scrappy, young, fat rainbow trout (pic above). We didn’t have a whole lot of time, as we all wanted to drive up to Snoqualmie Falls in the afternoon.

I'm sure Ed is thankful for a competent guide service. To my chagrin, he almost missed the fish while watching a mother duck train her ducklings after I had provided the location, pole, line, bait and may have even baited his hook. Apparently, his mind wanders easily.

Above are Darlene, Ed and Kay Lynne whom I snapped at the Falls overlook. At this time of year, the water is really gushing as you can see.

Good times with old friends is a commodity you can’t purchase. It has to be developed. There were lots of laughs as we recalled several of the more humorous times we’ve shared in the past. Ask Ed sometime about “slippery rock at Donner Lake.” My side hurts from laughing when I think about it.

About Time I Posted Something

I got a phone call today from my former business partner and California fishing buddy, Ed Wall, pictured above this past Christmas with his lovely wife, Darlene.

“How long are we going to have to look at that five- or six-inch long fish?” he asked, referring to a photo in the last post.

“FIVE OR SIX INCHES,” I responded. “It’s at least 15” long.”

“Can’t be if those are ‘two-by-fours’ it’s laying on,” he retorted.

“Ah, but they are two by eights,” I pointed out.

Turns out, he was bored silly and was looking for fresh reading material. Admittedly my last post was two full weeks old.

Well, now it isn’t.

At least Ed has something to read tonight. They were planning to fly out at midnight to visit their son’s family in Maine, but the east coast snow storm cancelled their flight.

There’s An Empty Chair in Our Circle of Friends

Our beloved friend Sharon Petersen (pictured above with husband, Ted, a little over two years ago in Mt. Hermon, CA), left this earth on Wednesday, gaining freedom at last from the devastating effects of a terrible disease.

Our circle of friends has an empty chair, and we grieve her departure.

Sharon was one of the sweetest ladies you could ever meet, and she fought hard in her more than a decade-long battle with breast cancer. In spite of its ravages, she pretty much lived above it until just the last few months.

Kay Lynne and I have been friends with Ted and Sharon for probably more years than we’d like to admit, but they’ve been wonderful years sharing mutual interests, consistently focused on our respective families and rooted in a common faith. We look forward to continuing that bond with Ted.

Sharon’s memorial service will be Tuesday at their church, Twin Cities, in Grass Valley, California.

Whale Watching Near Victoria B.C.

Today four of us went whale watching on the Straits of Juan De Fuca near Victoria, B.C. Pictured above is a large male Killer Whale (a.k.a. Orca) that I caught with my telephoto lens. We were actually about 150 yards from the gorgeous mammal. Click on the photo for a larger image.

My old college buddy Dwight Klassen and his wife, Lynnette, are here from Discovery Bay, California visiting Kay Lynne and me for a few days to celebrate the beginning of Dwight’s and my eighth decade on this earth. Our birthdays fall within five weeks of each other. And that’s all I’ll say about that, except to add that we’ve known each other for 52 years.

We went out with Puget Sound Express, the whale watching company that originates out of Port Townsend on the Olympic Peninsula. The day was unusually calm and in a very rare occurrence, all three resident Puget Sound Orca pods – J pod, K pod and L pod – were out together enjoying a Sunday afternoon frolicking on the water.

Pic is Dwight and Lynnette on the boat with the Canadian shoreline in the background.

It was a wonderful, invigorating experience enjoying the incredible scenery, the lazy ocean swells and dozens of one of the most beautiful creatures God has created. A day we will not soon forget.

Another Gathering of Friends in Discovery Bay

Our time in the SF Bay area last weekend was far too short. But one of the things we wouldn’t have missed was a get-together with old college roommates (two of the Baggars) and their wives.

Call it fate, or whatever, two of six old college buddies have ended up in retirement, living on the water just a few doors from each other in the Sacramento River Delta community of Discovery Bay, near Brentwood. Great friends since childhood, Dwight and Lynnette Klassen and Ralph and Gayle Higgins still talk almost daily “over the fence,” so to speak.

Kay Lynne and I joined them on Saturday afternoon for a dinner at Cap’s in Brentwood and dessert, great conversation and the singing of Christmas Carols at Klassens’ place. I snapped the above photo as we gathered around the piano to sing together the joyous sounds of Christmas in celebration of our Savior’s birth.

Ralph and Dwight, both incredible musicians and my envy all our lives, capped the evening by improvising together on the piano keyboard, “dualing” some familiar old tunes. I offered to step in and try playing some melody, but still, after almost 50 years, I can’t find the right notes for Waterloo.

A Christmas Gathering in the Santa Cruz Redwoods

Last Thursday we flew down to San Jose for an evening get-together with three couples at Mt Hermon Christian Conference Center near Santa Cruz. The event was a buffet dinner and Christmas concert held annually there – actually the first of eight performances over two weekends.

This year’s featured artists were harmonica virtuoso Buddy Greene and Jeff Taylor, a talented multi-instrument accompanist and comedic cohort. Both hail from Nashville, and their performance was extremely entertaining.

Joining us in the pouring rain that night in the Santa Cruz mountains were our friends Ted and Sharon Petersen of Lake Wildwood, Mike and Gwen Silkwood of Morgan Hill and Ed and Darlene Wall of Almaden/San Jose. This was probably the fifth or sixth consecutive year we’ve gathered to enjoy the annual holiday concert among the Redwoods.

After the concert was over, we drove into nearby Santa Cruz, checked into our beachfront hotel and headed to a local all-night eatery for some fellowship and more food (after all, it had been at least three hours since we had fed the monster). Sometime well after midnight we crept back into our hotel rooms for some welcome zzz’s.

The pic above was taken the next morning after breakfast at the hotel’s oceanfront restaurant. Back row, l to r, are moi, Ted, Ed and Mike. Middle row, l to r, are Kay Lynne, Sharon and Gwen, with Darlene in the front center.

Among all our fun activities, we reminisced back some 39+ years when we’d meet at Uncle John’s Pancake House after Sunday night church services in San Jose. The kids would all be asleep in their hand-carried, folding porta-beds (long since obsolete) by the time we headed for home. Thanks for the memories…

Coupla Things…

After two relaxing, enjoyable days here with the Petersens, who hail from California’s Sierra foothills above Sacramento, they headed back home in the late morning on Friday. Fortunately, our Fall Northwest weather – which can rear its ugly head at this time of year – turned quite nice and remained so while they were here.

Mainly, we kicked back and caught up on each of our families' activities and took some short driving trips around the area. We had a difficult time not stopping at any of the aromatic Norwegian bakeries when we went through Poulsbo. We also had some great conversations about church and our respective faith journeys following a stop at First Lutheran in Poulsbo where we worship.

Then Friday morning for a time, the sun overpowered the clouds that usually hang over the Olympic mountains giving us a glorious glimpse of their gorgeous, freshly snow-capped peaks. Nature provided our guests with a great send-off!

*******

We very much enjoyed our worship services at church yesterday and noted how well they fit in with the observances and conclusions in a book I’m reading by author and theologian, Marva Dawn. Her book is titled Reaching Out Without Dumbing Down and is a rather poignant critique of what worship has (unfortunately) become in many churches today.

She points out that in our “entertainment-oriented” culture, we often lose sight of the fact that true worship focuses on GOD, and (she fears) “when the congregation becomes an audience and its worship a vaudeville act, then the church finds itself at risk; the death of faith and Christian character is a clear possibility.” (Italics and emphasis mine.) Wow, that’s strong and very much worth thinking about.

More later on Marva Dawn’s thoughtful book.

The Historic Belmont Hotel in Port Townsend

Last Sunday, on our day trip to Port Townsend with our California friends, the Walls (see last post), we had a late lunch/early dinner at the vintage, red brick Belmont Hotel.

The historic inn is the city’s only remaining 1880s waterfront restaurant and saloon and is recognized as one of the “Northwest Best Places” by AAA.

Much of downtown Port Townsend’s main drag is lined with improved or restored Victorian edifices.

A walk up and down the quaint sidewalks takes you past building after building and store front after storefront that causes you to feel like you’re experiencing what it was like 120 years ago. Only the horses and buggies are absent.

In 1885, saloon keeper George Sterming erected the building that still bears his name. He put offices on the upper level, and the lower floor facilitated the soon-to-be famous restaurant and saloon. Sterming’s clientele was an eclectic mix of rowdy sea captains, arguing cargo brokers, adventurers, gun and rum runners, gamblers and hustlers.

In spite of the carnival atmosphere, the Belmont also was often a welcome conclusion to a terrifying sea passage for those seeking a fresh start in life.

The cuisine was sumptuous, and the ambiance was equally splendid. If you’re ever up in the Northwest’s Olympic Peninsula, the Belmont Hotel and Port Townsend are worthy stops.

A Weekend With Old, er, Longtime, Friends

My wife and I have known Ed and Darlene Wall since 1964 or closely thereabouts. That’s them above in historic Port Townsend, where we had dinner Sunday, against the backdrop of the Admiralty Inlet which links the Straits of Juan de Fuca to Puget Sound. The Port Townsend—Keystone ferry is behind them to the right just leaving the dock on a scheduled run.

We all met in San Jose when they were newlyweds and Kay Lynne and I were courting. At the time I was working on the staff of a large church and Ed was with the old Crocker Bank before it was gobbled up by the big boys. After Kay Lynne and I were married, we got to know one another much better in a “young marrieds” class at the church.

Through the years we raised our kids together, took trips together, and, additionally, Ed and I were business partners for about 15 years during the 70’s and 80’s. This past weekend, they were in our area primarily to attend Darlene’s 50th High School Reunion in nearby Bremerton. The remainder of the time we just did “stuff” together.

Whenever Ed visits, we have to do a tour of his boyhood homes in the greater Port Orchard vicinity. He lived in more places than McDonald’s has franchises. His famous humor line about it is, “I was a teenager before I learned it was ok to move in the daytime.”

We exposed the Walls to some good Lutheran theology on Sunday morning when we went to church in Poulsbo. They’re used to singing praise choruses from words projected on a large screen, but I don’t think it hurt a bit to reacquaint them with a hymn book and some participatory liturgy.

Yesterday, Ed and I went fishing (well, ok, “line-wetting”) at Mineral Lake which is located south of Tacoma at the foot of Mt. Rainier. It’s a beautiful lake and location, and the conditions couldn’t have been better. But the fish had lockjaw – not only for us, but also for everyone else. One possible reason: it’s August. But as they say, the worst day fishing is better than the best day doing anything else.

Best of all, we were able to enjoy some quality time with longtime friends.

Will Our Buddy Re-Discover the God He’s Now Not Sure Is There?

The last few blog posts have been about four of us Baggars who spent this past Monday together enjoying “old times” in the San Francisco Bay Area and attending a Giants game in the evening.

Left to right, above, are moi, Dwight Klassen, Ralph Higgins and Joe Medal.

In the comments section of the previous post, Ralph mentioned that during our time together we had talked about “deism, agnosticism, Christianity, and other topics.”

It was only natural.

We were all raised in “Christian” homes, our parents albeit on the “fundamentalist” side of evangelicalism. Plus, we became friends in a church group in San Jose, California in the late 1950’s and, in spite of a lot of questioning and exploration, for the most part endorsed our spiritual heritage – with some reservations, of course.

In fact, on a church outreach event, Joe once preached a sermon in a fundamentalist Walnut Creek church that had many of their members buzzing with fervent praise.

But in the ensuing years, we all went in separate directions with regard to our personal faith. Dwight, Ralph and I remained within the Christian confines, while Joe philosophically has struggled with his emergent, perceived “inconsistencies” of faith and deity.

He now considers himself an agnostic. To his credit, he doesn’t take the intellectually untenable position of an atheist. You’d have to be omniscient to make that assertion.

At one point in our talks I mentioned to Joe how meaningful my relatively recent involvement in the Lutheran Church had become. I tried to explain that in mainline Lutheran theology I’ve sort of been able to trace my spiritual heritage – my religious “roots”, if you will. He had no problem with that at all.

The three of us then pressed him a bit to indicate where his search for reality and meaning had led him. He responded very honestly.

“All I can tell you for sure,” he said, “is that I can’t be sure of anything.” “God can’t be proven – or disproven, for that matter – and that is why I’m ambiguous,” he intoned.

“I just can’t make the giant leap of faith,” he lamented, referring to theologian Immanuel Kant’s famous commentary. His integrity has not tarnished.

We left the discussion there, due either to other pressing things or to a need to catch a ferry. I hope we get to continue the dialog sometime soon.

In our younger days, Joe in many ways was an anchor in our group. I think he may be the strongest human being, pound for pound, of any I’ve ever met. When younger, he could "punish" his body more than anyone I’ve ever known.

He was a champion wrestler and a talented catcher in baseball. One day he caught three games, back-to-back and was none the worse for wear.

Another time, to win a short term weight loss contest with a friend, Joe ate nothing – no food, no water – for three days before the “weigh-in.” He won the event by drinking vinegar hours before the end to further dehydrate his body.

After his winning weigh-in, we all went to San Francisco for a seven-course meal. His opponent in the contest could eat nothing and nearly lost it all watching the ensuing developments. Joe ate everything offered. With no ill-effects.

One Thanksgiving, Joe ate a full turkey dinner with all the trimmings and then downed FIVE whole pumpkin pies. Again, with no ill-effects.

He was a superman.

Now, however, in later life, he’s dealing with a potentially life-threatening physical ailment. You’d never know it looking at him. He puts on a steely, strong front, as always.

“I probably should be dead,” Joe admitted to me on the way to the airport for my flight home, “but for some new, experimental medication I’m taking.” Apparently it’s working so far.

As I got out of the car at the departure gate, we gave each other a big bear hug (that’s about the only thing “real men” can do to show affection). I noticed a bit of involuntary mist in my eyes.

“Well, old buddy,” I told him, “I’m going to pray to the God you’re not sure of, with the expectation he’ll give you strength for the journey.”

He broke into a big smile, said nothing, got into his car, and drove off.

More On the Day in the San Francisco Bay Area

Four of us old college-buddy fuddyduddies enjoyed a relaxing day together Monday in the Bay Area. We didn’t have our wives with us to “direct our itinerary,” so several interesting incidents occurred.

It took us almost a half hour to find the right parking building near the ferry terminal in Oakland. Then, we had to ask three different people before we figured out how to get on the right streetcar from the Ferry Building in S.F. to AT&T Park.

We also lost our parking validation, but then finally found it again. We (I) had trouble with the automated ticket dispenser at AT&T Park Will Call. And on the way home we couldn’t decide the best driving route from Jack London Square to the 580 freeway.

Where were you, Gayle, when we needed you?

In the previous two posts I’ve described in general why we got together in the Bay Area. In this one I’ll add a little meat to the bones.

Dwight, Ralph and Joe picked me up at the Oakland airport from which we headed directly for the Oakland ferry terminal in Jack London Square. As an aside, Gertrude Stein would be happy to know that Oakland, finally, may be creating a “there” there, based on the incredible construction activity we saw going on.

After the aforementioned parking boggle, we shot across the Bay in the high-speed catamaran ferry boat and arrived at the Ferry Building in S.F. in only 15 minutes. After standing on the pier looking rather like pathetic old men, someone spotted a restaurant (a major “port in a storm” for this group) where we decided to have a late lunch.

The photo is of the four of us at Sinbad’s, a popular dockside Embarcadero eatery. Left to right are Ralph Higgins, Joe Medal, Dwight Klassen and myself.

We spent at least an hour shooting the breeze in the picturesque setting and got caught up on what’s been going on with all of our families. For a while, Joe talked seemingly incessantly, relating story after story, and we soaked it in because we’ve seen him the least in the past few years.

After “chowing down” (Joe’s terminology), we then impersonated confused, slow-walking old duffers as we plodded "a quarter of a mile" (had to be at least a half mile) to the Embarcadero streetcar stop where we began the mile-and-a-half trolley ride to the Park.

In one way, it was great to be a senior. The ferry ride cost each of us only $3 each way (instead of $7), and the streetcar ride cost only 50 cents (instead of a buck and a half regular fare). The streetcar ticket noted that only seniors or handicapped get the cheap fare. We probably qualified as both.

Plus, the ferry ticket also included free parking in Oakland for the day while using the ferry. If we had driven to S.F it would have cost $10 in gas plus $30 parking near the Park. So we saved at least $40 with the boat.

Originally, I thought the reason for using the ferry was the Bay Bridge freeway intersection crash and burn about a month ago that has created driving havoc at the Oakland end. However, I later figured out that Dwight, who was driving, made the decision to take the boat. We don’t call him “Save-A-Buck” for nothing!

As I mentioned in the last post, the Giants ballgame in the evening was our highlight and was as good a game as you can see if you’re a Giants fan. And of course, as is Baggar custom, after we got back to Dwight’s place in Discovery Bay long after midnight, we had to sit around, chew and digest the day, and do something we hadn’t done for at least an hour – eat some more.

And, surprisingly, no shenanigans occurred on the outing. Truth is, we had enough trouble just getting ourselves from place to place; there was little chance of causing anything more.

24 Jam-Packed Hours

Yesterday was one of those times when you wish you could slow time down and play it at a slower speed.

I was in San Francisco for the day primarily to attend last night’s SF Giants game – which they won with a shutout against the Houston Astros – with three of the Baggars, or, roommates from college days so long ago.

Top photo shows the four of us in front of the Willie Mays statue in Mays Plaza at the main entrance to AT&T Park. Left to right are yours truly, Dwight Klassen, Ralph Higgins and Joe Medal. You’re looking at a combined 200 years of friendship.

The game was an outstanding game, as baseball games go – great pitching with just enough timely hits hits to insure the victory.



Above is what it looked like from our seats at the Park shortly after the game began. It was a picture-perfect night. The fog even rolled in over the top of the stands right on cue about 9 pm. Click on the photos, BTW, if you want a larger image. More tomorrow on some of the other events of the day.

A Day in the Golden State

Tomorrow evening I’ll be attending a San Francisco Giants baseball game with three of my college roommates. Somehow, we’ve managed to stay close friends for almost 50 years.

When the four of us get together by ourselves like this (sans sane wives), you never quite know what’s going to happen.

We’re going to take the ferry from Oakland across the Bay to the Ferry Building in San Francisco. From there we’ll grab a bus down the Embarcadero to AT&T Park. The after-game ferry, which docks at the park’s water front, will bring us home.

In the old days, a lot could happen – and usually did – on outings like this. Of course now that we’re so much older and more mature, it’ll just be a routine day. Right. At any rate, I’m looking forward to it, but I’ll only be in the Bay Area for about 24 hours.

On another note, my granddaughter Talli reports that she is having an incredibly good time in Japan. Already she’s tasted ethnic foods and been to school with her Asian counter-part. She found out that her name (in Japanese characters) roughly translates to “many beautiful colors.” Not a coincidence, if you know Talli. We’re thrilled that she’s gaining so much from her journey.

Reflections on the Last Few Days

My wife and I, along with our lifelong friends (several with whom we visited in California last week), are living in an increasingly problematic time in our lives.

Among the things we are encountering as many of us creep up on the beginning of our eighth decade, are aging-related physical problems, chronic illnesses, adjusting to retirement schedule and income implications, and changing accessibilities to family. Any and all of them can be quite stressful.

So it was really nice to be able to spend meaningful time last week with these great people. If you’re a reader of this blog, you’ve met them all at one time or another – the Petersens of Grass Valley, the Walls of Almaden/San Jose, the Silkwoods of Morgan Hill, and the Higginses and Klassens of Discovery Bay (pictured respectively in order).

Each of them has touched our lives in a very special way, and we treasure each relationship.

We have all raised kids together. We’ve traveled together. We’ve shared our faith journeys. We’ve shared joys. And sorrows. We’ve moved away. We’ve come back. And we’ve moved away again. But we still get to be together once every so often.

We all continue to change in a myriad of ways as the years click by, but one thing remains constant – our friendship. No matter what is in store for any of us in our remaining years, we know we can count on these time-tested alliances.

We’re thankful for and blessed by each one. Thanks be to God.

(Sorry for the "goofy" layout; it's the best I could do within blog site limitations.)