Happy Birthday SRD

It will be one year tomorrow that I began this blog called Silence Runs Deep (SRD). When I started the blog I wasn't really sure where it was going, how long I'd stay at it or if anybody would want to read my rambling slop. Well, here I am one year later still going strong. I have made 300 posts in 365 days which means I post something about 82% of the time. I am also amazed that I have over 2700 page views. I really take pride in the blog and truly hope my writing can give you a little smile any time you decide to visit. I'm guessing most people enjoy the light hearted nature of the blog and appreciate the absence of politics and serious, depressing topics. Thanks to everyone for making this a fun thing for me. Let's face it, if nobody was reading it, I probably wouldn't bother writing it.

Soooooo.... Happy Birthday, Silence Runs Deep! May there be many more!

Home Sweet Homer

The Reds have 5 more games to play in the regular season and then they head to the post-season playoffs. Last night the Reds' pitcher Homer Bailey threw a no hitter. It was the first one since September 1988. I was following the game on-line and then turned on the radio for the final 2 innings. It was very exciting to listen to. I hope this is a sign of big things to come.

The Mouse Game

Next weekend is the Aurora Farmers Fair. Before I go any further it should be noted that I do not like fairs/carnivals/festivals and I do not like crowds. This fair is typical... rides, games of chance designed to separate you from your money or give you a junky prize if you win. Fried food of every variety and thousands of people congregated in the street doing "who knows what!".

I have been going to the Aurora Farmers fair since 1989 (that's when I started dating Tami). I only went to be with Tami and because Jessi enjoyed it. When Jessi grew up we started taking Michael and Abby. Through it all there has been a family tradition of playing "The Mouse Game". This game has a large wooden wheel divided into sections of lots of different colors. Each colored space has a hole in the wheel. As the wheel is spun a mouse is placed in the center of the wheel and he runs around for a few seconds before darting into one of the holes. The job of the player is to put a quarter on the colored space that matches the color where the mouse went into the hole. If you put a quarter on the red space and the mouse runs into the red hole, you win. It sounds easy but it's not... There are 20-25 different colors to choose from.

This family tradition was started when my father-in-law, Frank took Jessi to play the game when she was about 3. He has been playing the game with all his grandchildren since. This year we intend to continue the tradition with Sveta. I have no idea what she will think when she sees that little mouse running around the big, spinning wheel, but we're about to find out :-)

*Note* I can't say for sure, but I think at some point a gerbil was substituted for the mouse. It doesn't really matter... next weekend a rodent of some kind will dash into a colored hole and a child will squeal with delight and dozens of others will groan as their quarter disappears into the pocket of the carny worker. I will post pics after the fair next weekend.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and eat a corndog and a fried twinkie to prepare my stomach for the festivities!

Here's a pic to give you an idea of what I'm trying to describe.

51 cards in the deck

I know, I know... there are 52 cards in a deck. But for one wacky night there were only 51.

Many years ago when my brother-in-law would visit from Phoenix, it became customary for the men (and a few of the women) to play poker. We didn't play for real money. We played for chips and more importantly bragging rights. One particular night we were playing and by a dumb stroke of luck I happened to be winning. The final hand of the night was a game that involved using all the cards in the deck. After the cards were dealt it became apparent that a card was missing. We started looking on the floor, on our laps and any place else a stray card may have been hiding. We couldn't find it. It was then somebody decided to check in the box the cards were stored in. There it was. The king of diamonds had been in the box the whole evening. We had played three hours of poker with 51 cards and nobody noticed. After discovering the error we all complained and joked about how one missing card skewed the results of the whole game. But then we all agreed that even though there were only 51 cards in the deck that night, we all played under the same conditions and only confirmed what everybody already knew... nobody in this family is playing with a full deck.

By the way... I won the last hand too and was declared the big winner for the night. That doesn't happen very often. I've never been much of a gambler anyway.

Not the most wonderful time of the year

I know it's not Christmas. Goodness knows we don't want to start talking about the holiday season in September. But the world lost a good one today. Crooner Andy Williams passed away. His Christmas classic, "It's the most wonderful time of the year", has been played millions of times on the radio, shopping mall soundtracks and has even been used on several television commercials (The popular back to school Staples ads come to mind). Who hasn't hummed this tune at some point during the Christmas season? I remember my mom had the Christmas album of Andy Williams and the Williams Brothers. This song was by far the most popular and well known tune from that album. For you younger folks, an album is like a big, black CD.

Christmas will always be about the birth of my Savior, Jesus Christ. But the secular side of Christmas will have a hole in it this year. Ol' Andy won't be belting out his Christmas tunes in his trademark sweater anymore. I think I'm kind of going to miss Andy. I'm a little young to have enjoyed his music fully, but I do appreciate a good voice when I hear it.

And a fun side note... Andy was from Cincinnati. He was from the west side town of Cheviot and went to Western Hills High School.

I will never understand

As long as I live I will NEVER understand smoking. It is a filthy, disgusting habit. Not only does it poison your body and shorten your life, but it makes everyone and everything reek of cigarette smoke. BLECH! I remember my days working in restaurants and bars. I would come home smelling like an ashtray and I never smoked a day in my life. As horrible as smoking is, sometimes smokers make me laugh. I get a kick out of these young ladies driving down the road smoking in their car. They hold their cigarettes out the window so as to not let any smoke get in their car. Do they seriously think they can keep the odor out their car? They are inhaling this garbage and exhaling it into the car. Yet there they are... daintily holding the cigarette out the window. Yeah, sure! That'll help! What about the smokers who are trying to hide their habit? They puff a large plume of secondary smoke into the air when someone approaches their secret smokers hideout. They wave their hand in the air to disperse the smoke. Well, duh! Do they really think a quick wave of the hand will eliminate the stench of their smoke? What about people who spray on perfume or cologne to attempt to hide their smoking? I used to work with a smoker who would attempt to hide it by dousing herself in the cheapest, most awful perfume known to mankind. She blessed us daily with the malodorous double-whammy of cigarette smoke and dime store perfume. It was UNBEARABLE! On a serious note--- at nearly $5 per pack, even one pack a day will cost a smoker $35 a week. That's roughly $140 a month and $1680 a year. I consider that a bare minimum as most smokers probably burn more than one pack per day. And there's never a doubt when you're around a smoker. Their house, their clothes, their car and everything else stinks badly of smoke. The best example of this was my own grandmother. Her apartment was nothing more than a three room ashtray. She used to bake me pies and cookies. I would take them home and you could smell the smoke on them. YUCK! I never told her, but these baked treats always went straight into the trash can. I never had the heart to tell her the baked goods were inedible. It was terribly sad. Smoking isn't what ultimately caused her death, but I'm certain it didn't help her any.

A Thousand Words

A cliche' is a cliche' for a reason. Sometimes a phrase is so accurate and so true that it is used millions of times. So at the risk of being cliche', I tell you a picture is worth a thousand words. I have spent a lot of time in this space talking about one of the loves of my life. My granddaughter Sveta occupies a lot of my thoughts. I just love her so much and really miss seeing her as often as I'd like. As much as I've tried, I could never accurately depict her personality using words. I was frustrated by this until I saw the following photo. No photo has ever captured her personality quite like this one. I will only describe the photo like this: Sveta standing akimbo. Little Miss Personality! Other than that, the photo speaks for itself.

Just my luck!

Wouldn't you know it! The day I decide to put the winter cover on the pool, we get a wind storm. I'm glad nobody was watching. I must have looked mighty silly trying to put a 24 ft. cover over the surface of the pool and having it blowing everywhere. Every time I'd get it where I wanted it, a big gust of wind would blow it out of position. What a joke! After much extra work the cover is finally on. Sheesh!

The end (of summer) has come

Today is the first day of fall. The end of my beloved summer. How ironic that this is also the day we will close the pool. It's such a depressing sight to see the pool with the winter cover on it :-(

Hit the Hay!

Last night when it was time to go to bed, we said we were going to "Hit the Hay". Abby got a puzzled look on her face and I knew she'd never heard the expression before. I asked her if she knew what it meant. She said, "Yes. It's because people used to sleep in the barn". Oh my heavens! That was so funny!

Let there be light! (or not)

Tami and I hosted a Bible study in our home last night. We started with a nice dinner of Firehouse Chili and diet friendly banana pudding for dessert (Thanks, Terri!) Just as we were finishing dinner and preparing to study God's Word, the lights went out... A power outage in the whole neighborhood. We lit as many candles as we could find and pressed on with our study. It went very well considering the unusual circumstances. We tried reading in Genesis where God said, "Let there be light!" and the passage that says, "I am the Light of the world". It didn't work. We had to wait for the power company. Power was restored at 11:35 P.M. long after we went to bed for the evening.

Ahoy there!

Ahoy there, Mateys! We be havin' too many "holidays" nowadays. National Pancake Day. National Cupcake Day. Sweetest Day. And now, Yo Ho Ho... Talk Like a Pirate Day. Seriously? Talk Like a Pirate Day? Well shiver me timbers! ARRRRRRRR!!!!!!

Praying Mantis

Being a teacher, I face many challenges daily. I also get a lot of opportunities for funny stories. Here are a few stories from many years ago involving praying mantises.

When Michael was in elementary school, his science teacher instructed the students to create an insect collection. He found a lot of specimens in our own yard and surrounding areas. However, he was having difficulty finding enough bugs to complete the project. I decided to help him out. I told all of my students at school about the assignment and told them if they found any unusual bugs they should bring them to me. That in itself brought a lot of interesting things into my classroom. You can imagine how happy I was when a student brought me a live praying mantis. This beauty promised to be the centerpiece of the collection. Not wanting to be cruel, I soaked cotton balls in formaldehyde and put them in a sealed baggie with the mantis. The death was as quick and merciful as I could make it. I couldn't wait to get home to show Michael this amazing creature. But that's not what happened. You can imagine my shock, horror and embarrassment when that same student came in after school and asked me to return the praying mantis. I removed the plastic bag and dead mantis from my desk drawer and asked why he wanted it back if he brought it in for Michael's insect collection. At this point he welled up with tears and said, "Mr. Meyer, the praying mantis wasn't for your son. It's my pet and I wanted to show it to you!". OH LORD! I just killed this child's pet! I apologized up,down and all around, but the child wasn't consoled by my apologies. Many years later this story is hilarious. At the time it wasn't so funny.

Another time a child brought in a praying mantis. This time I knew it was for show and tell and no acts of "Mantis-cide" were committed. After everyone had a chance to look at the mantis and ask questions, it was time to move on with the rest of the school day. However, there was the problem of what to do with the mantis as the child brought no container to keep it in. Not really knowing what to do, I instructed the child to put the mantis in the cage with a small lizard. What could go wrong? The better question might have been, what couldn't go wrong? Hours later I was engrossed in teaching and had long forgotten Mr. Mantis and Mr. Lizard. My memory was quickly restored when a child shrieked, "Oh my God! The praying mantis is EATING the lizard!!!!". Knowing kids tend to over dramatize everything, I wasn't too concerned, but walked over to the cage to check things out. I was very surprised to see the child was NOT exaggerating. The praying mantis had literally taken a chunk out of the lizard's neck and the lizard was as dead as can be. Thankfully the lizard wasn't anyone's pet. But I have to admit that when it came to a battle between mantis and lizard, I never would have thought the mantis would kill the lizard.

There is now an unwritten rule in my classroom. Do not bring a praying mantis to school. I've been burned twice. That's enough.

Aren't God's creatures amazing?????

Southern Baptist?

Michael is almost 19. As much as he is growing into an adult, he sometimes says things that quickly remind me he is still a kid.

A few months ago Michael began hanging out with some friends at the youth group functions of Harrison Baptist Church. We don't attend Harrison Baptist, but had no problem with Michael socializing with other Christians. Being curious about the church I asked him one day if Harrison Baptist was a Southern Baptist Church. I was trying to determine if it was Southern Baptist, Reformed Baptist or some other branch of the the church. Instead of hearing one of those, Michael responded to my question as follows:

Me: "Michael, is Harrison Baptist a Southern Baptist church?"

Michael: (Pause)- "I don't think so... the Pastor is from Pittsburgh".

We really howled at that one!

I peeked

Ok. I admit it. I watched the Bengals yesterday. I said my interest was diminished. I didn't say I was giving up completely. Besides, the game was against the loathsome Cleveland Browns.

Sveta-isms Part II

I went up to watch Sveta play soccer yesterday. She did a good job, but sometime near the end of the game she quit chasing the ball and was just kind of walking around the field. After the game her daddy asked what was wrong. She said she was tired. Shortly before leaving she asked if she could play on the playground. Her daddy told her no because she was too tired. She did not like that at all.

Later on she called her mommy over and said, "I wanna ask you a question, but you're probably going to say N-O". It's funny that she knew ahead of time that her request would probably be denied and even funnier that she spelled out the word NO.

I'll try not to blabber on. Most of you won't find this stuff nearly as cute or funny as I do. Oh well, what can I say? I'm a proud Goppa!

Sveta-isms

Quite a few posts in this space have been dedicated to my granddaughter, Sveta. As is the case with any 4 year old, they are likely to say just about anything. Maybe I'll write a book of "Sveta-isms" some day.

A few days ago Tami was talking to Jessi on the phone. As most pre-schoolers do, Sveta was pestering her mom and interrupting the conversation. Jessi stopped and said, "Sveta, when mommy is on the phone, what do you need to do?" Expecting to hear something along the lines of, "I need to be quiet" or "I need to wait until you are finished", Sveta offered the following gem: "I NEED to say something!". Not as funny in print, but you get the idea... kids rarely say what we want them to say or what we expect them to say. Hats off to Art Linkletter. Kids do indeed say the darndest things!

And speaking of 4 year olds... yours truly was once 4 years old too. I remember my grandparents telling this story about me when I was around that age. They took me out to a fairly nice restaurant for dinner. On the table was a cloth napkin lined basket filled with individually wrapped fancy crackers. Remember? There were melba toasts, rye crackers, club crackers and other fancy schmancy crackers. My grandmother then proceeded to put all the crackers in her purse. When the waitress came to the table, I promptly asked, "Can you bring us some more crackers? My grandma put them all in her purse." Was Grandma embarrassed? To say the least! Little Mickey was a bit ornery I guess :-)

Aye, Aye Captain!

Congratulations to my little brother, Kerry! He found out last night that he received the high score on the civil service exam and will be promoted to the rank of Captain in the St. Bernard Fire Department. This is quite an accomplishment after months of studying for the exam. We are all very proud of Captain Meyer, but I know our dad would have been especially proud. Dad was an officer in the St. Bernard Fire Department himself.

Way to go, Kerry!

Am I "Bengalized"?

In a previous post I talked about my lack of enthusiasm for the beginning of the NFL season. For the first time in probably 32 or 33 years, I did not watch the Bengals opening game. I didn't view one second of it. As it turns out, I didn't miss much as the Bengals were humiliated on national television 44-13. I'm so glad I didn't waste three and a half hours of my life watching that debacle. Maybe I would feel differently if the Bengals won a thriller in the waning seconds of the game. But they didn't and they usually don't.

I really can't pinpoint a specific reason for this shift in my interest level. Perhaps I'm "Bengalized". A condition Cincinnati football fans develop after many of years of repeated losing, bumbling away games, ineffective management, pathetic ownership and a general disdain and belittling of the fans by the current head coach. Perhaps I'm just tired of guys making a gazillion dollars for playing a game and complaining about every little thing. Perhaps I have developed other interests and football just fell down the list. My best guess is that the Reds are doing really well right now and are getting ready for the playoffs. Maybe once baseball ends I will be more interested in football, but I really kind of doubt it.

Go Reds!

9/11

This space is normally filled with funny stories about my family or light hearted musings about the largely unimportant details of my life. The circumstances of the day would make it inappropriate for that type of post today.

9/11 brings back feelings of horror and sadness for anyone old enough to remember that ill fated day. Just like December 7th, 1941 and the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor for generations before mine, 9/11 is the "Pearl Harbor" of my generation. Everybody knows where they were or what they were doing when they heard about it. I was in my classroom and Tami was at home watching on TV. Watching the events unfold was a surreal experience. It was truly unbelievable to think this was really happening. It was too much like a fictional movie to be real. But it was all too real. America (and the world) was changed forever on that day.

An interesting note: The students I am teaching today are between 9 and 12 years old. These children were either just born or not yet born on 9/11. They have no concept or recollection of what happened 11 years ago today. Heck, Abby was only 4 and Michael was 7. Abby has no recollection of the events and Michael probably has very little, if any memory of the day. Amazing! These children didn't live through it, just like I didn't live through Pearl Harbor.

I am praying today for the families of those who were murdered on that day. I cannot imagine knowing someone who was in New York on September 11, 2001.

God's Car!

I hopped in my car this morning in a not-so-chipper mood. Monday mornings... UGH! I started the car and was greeted by a glaring light on my dashboard. The dreaded check engine light! Oh no!

My mechanic is just a few blocks from school, so I went ahead and drove to St. Bernard. I prayed the car all the way down I-74 and then on to the auto repair shop. I just told the Lord I knew He was in control and I was trusting in Him. The car ran great! I dropped the car off and walked to work. Trying to remind myself of Matthew 6:27. (being anxious will not add one hour to your life)

A few hours later I received really good news. The oil level was low. The mechanic said it is really unusual for a low oil level to trigger that warning light, but it did. He said he was going to change the oil and that should take care of everything. PHEW! I was planning on getting the oil changed soon anyway.

Cash is in short supply right now. The economy is taking a bite out of everything. I was worried about a big repair bill, but I worried for nothing. Ladies and gentlemen, prayer works. This morning God was driving His Honda Civic and everything turned out great :-)

Surprise!

Sveta came down for a surprise visit today. It was gorgeous outside and the Morton family came down to enjoy the local arts and crafts festival. After the festival we all went out to our favorite mexican restaurant. In addition to a good meal we were treated to some very special moments with Sveta. Asked when her birthday is, she says, "February ummm...." Jessi then prompts her with, "18th". To which Sveta asks, "I gonna be 18?" Funny! She also sang "You are my sunshine" all the way through. We really enjoyed that! She is also in the beginning stages of learning to read. She knows quite a few sight words and can also sound out some words phonetically. For example, she saw the word "dip" on the menu. She says, "Duh-ih-ih-puh... DIP!" She also read the words RED ROBIN in the same way. Absolutely amazing! Jessi is such a good teacher and an incredible mom.

What a great way to end my weekend! Sveta made her Goppa very happy.

The other Meyers

Just a bit of news from my brother's family...

Kerry took the civil service exam today. This exam will determine if he gets promoted to the rank of Captain at the fire department. He is in competition with only one other guy. Highest score earns the promotion. I have been praying for him. He said he will know the results by Wednesday or Thursday.

My niece, Mary (Kerry's daughter) is a senior at Summit Country Day school. You may recall her team won the Ohio state soccer championship last November. The team is rolling again this year. They are 5-0-1 and currently ranked #1 in the state. We are looking forward to another trip to Columbus for the state tournament. Obviously it's not a sure thing, but chances are good for a return trip.

Remember, Summit Country Day was a big rival of my high school. It still feels strange rooting for Summit. Funny how things change.

Withdrawal Symptoms

My name is Mick Meyer and I am an addict. The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. Now, before you all start freaking out, you need to know I'm speaking in jest. I'm not a druggie or alcoholic. I'm addicted to my granddaughter. I can't get enough of seeing her, talking to her or just plain looking at her. I am just completely nutso crazy over her. I found myself thinking about her more than normal lately and I didn't know why. I finally realized I haven't seen her in two weeks and I am experiencing something similar to withdrawal symptoms. Again, I am speaking in jest, but I do really miss that sweet little girl. I am totally surprised this precious little bundle of energy has had such an effect on me. I knew I would love her and I knew being a grandparent would be fun, but was totally unprepared to be completely captivated by her. All she has to do is look at me or say, "Hi Goppa" and I turn to complete mush. I am powerless against it. I may as well accept it. It really is true... once an addict, always an addict.

YAWN!

I must be getting old. The NFL season started last night and I didn't even watch the game. The Bengals' first game is Monday night. I'm not even mildly excited about it. (YAWN!) Will I watch the game? Probably. But I won't plan my evening around it. Many years ago I would live and die with the Bengals. If they lost on Sunday, it would ruin my whole week. Now I couldn't really care any less. I also do not enjoy playing fantasy football much anymore. This is a long story and I won't bore you with it. Suffice it to say I will be sorry when baseball ends in a month or so and will wait not-so-patiently for it to begin again in the spring.

Remembering Broccoli Head

I'm in my 23rd year of teaching, and I'm sure I've forgotten more funny moments than I remember. For all the bellyaching I do about my job, there are lots of good things about it (June, July and August not withstanding). Sometimes teachers sit around and tell funny stories.

I remember helping a first grader with his homework in the after school program. His name was Tyler Brockmeier, but I affectionately called him Broccoli Head. He was from the hills of Kentucky and spoke with a serious southern drawl. He came to my desk one time to show me a picture he had drawn. Having no idea what I was looking at, I asked him to tell me what it was. Expecting to hear something like car, tree or Superman, I almost fell out of my chair when he proclaimed, "That there's creativity!" In print the story doesn't seem too funny, but if you say it aloud with a southern drawl, especially the word, "cree-ay-tiv-uh-tee", it's downright hilarious.

I also remember a time the Broccoli Head came to my desk for help with his math homework. He was working on simple addition and had been given colored cubes to help him count (2 red cubes + 3 blue cubes = 5 cubes). I showed him how to count out each set of cubes, then push them together and total them up. His eyes lit up and he was truly IMPRESSED! He asked who thought of doing math that way. I told him I really didn't know. He then looked at me and replied, "Well, it's a dang good idea!".

The Broccoli Head moved away that year and I haven't seen him since. I often wonder what happened to my little southern friend. Wherever he is, I hope he's doing well. As near as I can remember, he's probably in high school by now. I miss that little guy. He used to really brighten my day.

a MUCH needed drink!

No... not THAT kind of drink. A drink of water. We've gotten a little bit of rain the last few days and the parched earth has really, really needed it. Things are still too dry and more rain is needed, but this was a good start. Now that summer is over, bring on the autumn rains!

Isaac Wins!

***Final Score*** Hurricane Isaac 1 - Fireworks 0

The clouds opened up about 7:00 and it has been pouring ever since. I will not get soaking wet and fight a crowd to see any fireworks display. Isaac wins this time. Maybe next year!

Kaboom! Let's try again!

Last year we attempted to attend the big fireworks display at Riverfest. It absolutely poured on us and we left before the show started. Wouldn't you know it... the rain stopped just as we got back top our car. JUST OUR LUCK! This year we are going to try again, but the remnants of hurricane Isaac are in the forecast. We may be in for a case of deja vu.

It hasn't rained for 4 months and the first time we want to do something outside... rain is in the forecast. The weather guys are calling it a Drought Buster. Oh great!

Depression?

Today the calendar turns to September. This change of the calendar is a turning point in my year and stirs uneasy feelings in me. This is going to sound strange to a lot of you (especially those who love the cool crispness of fall). Others may think I'm just being a whiner. However, these feelings I have are real and it happens every year! The bottom line? The fall (autumn) depresses me.

It actually begins on August 31st. The anniversary of my dad's death. Some very important people in my life have died in the fall.

The fall signifies the end of everything I enjoy. Summer. Fishing. Swimming. Time off. Time with my family. Vacation. Sun. Long days. Picnics. Cookouts. Time on the deck. Gardening. Baseball. Yard Work. The fall begins things in my life that are not as enjoyable. Back to school. Back to work. Cooler temperatures. Shorter days. Everything is dying. Raking leaves (the only kind of yard work I don't like). The prelude to winter.

The fall brings one of the most dreaded days of the whole year... Halloween. If you'd like an explanation of this go back into the archives of this blog from last October and find a post called Autumn Blues. I'm sure I will also do another post about this topic next month.

I really can't accurately put into words these feelings I have. All I know is this time of year brings feelings of dread. Feelings of sadness. Feelings of utter depression.

I know there are many more important things that I should be worrying about. In the grand scheme of life, the change of seasons shouldn't be high on my list of things that trouble me. But my feelings are my feelings and I can't change them.

I am still counting my blessings. The Lord's mercy and grace abound beyond all measure. I have a wonderful wife. A wonderful family. A great house. We all have our health. We are are financially secure. But all of this doesn't change my disdain for the end of summer and the beginning of fall. How many more days until summer?