A report of regret and human connection.

Keep going, keep talking, keep listening, keep getting together face to face. The show goes on.

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-Dead man’s carnival

-Menstrual recovery stew

-Running errands

We ended up getting several more co-sponsors but the bill died in committee. That result was expected given the make up of the legislature; but we built momentum and kept going into the next session.

-Wisconsin this weekend

-Election Day

-In the news

-Ask Calabrese

-Recommended

-Waupaca County Sheriff Report

-End

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Keep going, keep talking, keep listening, keep getting together face to face… the show goes on.

I’ve found that people are mostly good, for the most part we all want the same things; but/and our different perspectives, experiences and unique personas are a big part of what makes life worth living.

Consistently working the muscles of asking, listening and not judging our real life fellow humans; will be a large part of what will save us if we’re to be saved. Because when those muscles are strong it’s impossible not to care for one another.

My first lessons were that looks can be deceiving. His Somewhat disheveled and unkempt appearance didn’t have me prepared for his level of political acumen and wisdom. I remember quietly driving home and thinking about that. I pride myself to be non-judgemental and to be open to all but that’s a muscle you have to continually exercise and attempt to recommit to before every interaction.

I got back to my computer and looked up the Highway of Death. I learned what was done to retreating forces at the end of the first Gulf war. I’m not a military tactician and I don’t know all the calculations that had to be made. But I learned the ongoing ramifications of war in his intense eyes and weary voice when he asked if I had heard of it.

The sharpness, skill, and knowledge of the rules that I witnessed showed that they must practice often and that they clearly love the game.

Baseball is magic.

Today, the day after the world series, is usually one of the most melancholy days of the year for me. We’re the furthest away from baseball games as the calendar allows.

It feels different today because like most Wisconsinites I succumbed to Brewers fever and there’s no way someone afflicted with this wonderful ailment could feel down in the dumps today. Winning the whole thing for the first time ever, in the uplifting relentless way that they did, is something I’ll never forget. And neither will Wisconsin

But soon, the days will get shorter and darker and the lack of baseball will set into my soul. However, this offseason finds me with a new platform and outlet for my thoughts and stories, and a larger community of people who are eager for things that are real, simple, joyous, and thought provoking.

Let’s move into winter with that shared optimism together.

When I got closer I learned that she is well aware of how she appears to the customers.

Back in May, in Mauston Wisconsin, he had a key hit to help cement a victory and send me on a trip down memory lane.

For the prior 4 years I was the head coach of his team in the 2nd division, but when he got called up to the 1st division, a team with a coaching staff already in place, I handed off the reigns to a couple other parents on his old team and got to spend this year watching and listening instead of strategizing and teaching.

Homer has always had the perfect demeanor for baseball. He doesn’t let a strike out or an error get him down too low; and he carries big hits and slick plays with a humble matter of fact-ness.

Taking the games in as a spectator this year allowed me to let our baseball memories together marinate in a warm welcome way. If I was wired up to a polygraph and answered “yes” when asked if it was yesterday that he and I were rolling a ball back and forth on the hardwood floor before he had taken his first step, the machine would register: ~Truth~

Rationally knowing that attempting to hold tight to a moment in time as a parent, to make it last forever has a 0% chance of success; definitely doesn’t stop us from trying, over and over again.

The core lesson I learned is that wondrous human stories are much more likely to unfold when we engage with each other. I never would have received this story without inquiring about the phone call she was on.

I’ve been at this for two years now and often I’ll be asked how so many good stories come my way. It’s not just listening and observing; it’s regarding my fellow humans as equals, as teammates, as fellow travelers in this wild world, and taking the time to engage. To speak, to compliment, to acknowledge and to ask.

Stories are what our lives are made of. It’s a miracle that we’re here, alive, today; and it’s an honor to regard and detail the days together.

Thanks to Dorothy in Woodville for shifting my life.

She had a sense this story would warm my patriotic and baseball loving heart and she was correct.

Not quite as legendary as the Christmas Truce of 1914 but a thing of beauty nonetheless.