Barb Caffrey's Blog

Writing the Elfyverse . . . and beyond

Archive for the ‘Heartwarming stories’ Category

Damian Lillard Returns to Milwaukee, Gets Ovation

with 2 comments

Folks, when the Milwaukee Bucks waived All-Star guard Damian Lillard, I was furious and said so at the time. Lillard is a class act, someone who brought tireless energy and a will to win every single night. He worked hard to return from a blood clot in his leg — something that often sidelines players in all sports for far longer (even taking them out of entire seasons) — coming back in time for the playoffs. Then, because life can be cruel sometimes, he tore his Achilles tendon during the playoffs.

Because Lillard wasn’t likely to play at all this season, the Bucks waived him and “stretched” his contract over a period of years. This was a scenario no one had expected. Lillard wasn’t told before it happened, either, which I thought particularly egregious…anyway, Lillard landed on his feet, signing with the Portland Trail Blazers (where he started his career and played eleven years before being traded to the Bucks), and he just returned to Milwaukee with Portland, as the Trailblazers played the Bucks last night (and beat the Bucks, too).

Lillard can’t play right now, though he is rehabbing and he can take parts in some of the warmups and such. In that, he’s like Bucks star forward Giannis Antetokounmpo, who is also injured right now. The Bucks players and coaches were happy to see Lillard, too, as they knew how good of a person he was, and how cruel the National Basketball Association (NBA) can be as a business sometimes.

But their warm welcome was dwarfed by the thunderous ovation Lillard received from the Bucks fans.

You know how I said before that I was incredibly disappointed in the Bucks front office for waiving and stretching Lillard’s contract? I still am. But I am incredibly heartened by the Bucks fans, who really liked Lillard (for good reasons), and who did not like this “NBA business move” as it seemed to dump on a quality guy who’d done everything he possibly could to win with the Bucks, including coming back quickly from that blood clot in his leg, changing his own game to play more defense, get more assists, and shoot less often (though with the excellent accuracy and ability he’d always shown as a Trailblazer in Portland). The Bucks fans recognized this. And they wanted Lillard to know that the two years he spent in Milwaukee were memorable.

Thus, the ovation.

I am pleased, mind you, that the Bucks came up with the video tribute to Lillard (they don’t always remember to do this, as they completely forgot when former coach Mike “Bud” Budenholzer returned with his then-team the Phoenix Suns, and Bud won a championship with the Bucks in 2021). That shows class, and also shows what I expect out of the Bucks: respect for a true winner, someone who gave it his all, and who just wanted the best out of life.

Lillard may be better off rehabbing in Portland, mind you. His kids are there, and they are a joy and a delight to him (which is as it should be). He can take them to school more often, pick them up, take ’em to doctor appointments, see them in recitals or anything else they may be doing…all of that is an unexpected blessing, as far as I’m concerned, from the Bucks classless and shoddy act in the summer.

“But what about Myles Turner?” you might be asking. “They waived Lillard’s contract to get him. Don’t you like at least that part of it?”

I have nothing bad to say about Myles Turner. He’s done fine as a Buck so far.

But he is not Damian Lillard. And to get Turner, who is of course blameless as it wasn’t up to him as to what the Bucks front office staff did, the Bucks had to (excuse me) crap all over Lillard despite Lillard having put his all into his two years as a Buck.

I hope that Damian Lillard knows, now if not sooner, that most Bucks fans did not like what the Bucks front office did. That ovation should tell him, if nothing else, that we Bucks fans saw Lillard and appreciated his classiness and hard work.

As it’s nearly Thanksgiving, I can honestly give thanks that the Bucks fans gave Lillard this huge ovation. Because he deserved it. He is worthy of it. And I’ll never forget this heartwarming act, because it’s good to know that many other fans feel as I did, and still do.

In Tough Times, Try to Have Fun (Say the Brewers and Musician Chuck Mangione)

leave a comment »

There’s a lot wrong with the world right now, especially in the United States. It can be tough to remember that there is still good in the world, along with good people who will do their best to make the world the best place it can be.

I mention this because of two things. One, jazz flugelhornist Chuck Mangione passed away at age 84 earlier this week. His signature song was called “Feels So Good,” and it came out in 1978. (I know some of you were not born yet.) 1978 was a time of distress for many. There was “stagflation” going on — both inflation and stagnancy, which is kind of the worst of both worlds when it comes to economics. Many people were struggling, as the work they had didn’t pay enough to live, or maybe they’d just lost their job.

So, why did Mangione come up with “Feels So Good” at that particular time?

No one knows the answer to that but him (and he can’t tell us anymore). The best I ever garnered from various interviews and such was that he felt life was a gift. He wanted to showcase something fun, something upbeat, and something memorable.

He certainly did that, and in spades.

I recently found out that Mangione was not only a trained jazz musician (that was obvious), but had worked with Art Blakely’s Jazz Messengers group before breaking out with “Feels So Good” and leading his own group. The Jazz Messengers are a hard-swinging group playing traditional jazz (mostly bebop, with some late 1950s into the early 1960s expressionism if it made sense to them). This was quite a surprise to me, as you’d never think anyone who’d worked with them (as Mangione did) would’ve come up with “Feels So Good.”

Anyway, I have a second reason that reminded me it’s important to have fun, and here it is: The Milwaukee Brewers 25th Anniversary of their home field (now called American Family Field; originally called Miller Park) included one of the most fun events I could possibly conceive of as a Brewers fan, that being an Alumni Home Run Derby.

The Brewers had many wonderful players in the last twenty-five years, and the Derby brought back ten of them. Eric Thames hit massive homers and was — and still is — built like a bodybuilder. Nyjer Morgan was a speedster, but did credibly in the Derby, hitting a couple of homers. Corey Hart, one of my favorite all-time Brewers, hit five homers in the limited time given to each player, and actually made the two-person finals. Ryan Braun and Prince Fielder, Brewers icons, of course were there, and so was Carlos Gomez with his elegant swing and happy-go-lucky attitude. Bill Hall, one of the best all-around infielders the Brewers have ever had, did credibly also. Casey McGehee was an entrant, but wasn’t able to hit a homer (that was OK with the fans, I read; they were just glad he tried). Brewers pitcher Yovani Gallardo, who won a Silver Slugger award for the best-hitting pitcher when pitchers still hit, looked good and hit well. And, finally, Keon Broxton, a very speedy outfielder and mostly a defensive specialist when he was with the Brewers for a few years, hit five homers to match Hart and gain the final round.

Now, I have to mention something about both Broxton and Hart. Broxton is only thirty-five and never had a major injury to his feet, legs, or knees as far as I’m aware. Hart is forty-three and suffered major injuries to his knees which required surgery. Broxton looks like he could still play, similar to Ryan Braun, whereas Hart looks more like what he is now: a proud father and a decidedly retired player. (Note that I do not mean “out of shape” here. Every Brewers alumni player who went up to bat showed they’re still in exceptionally good shape. Broxton was notable because he almost looked like a triathlete, if that makes any sense, and none of the rest of them did.)

But Hart’s swing is still the same, a long, looping, easy swing, and that’s why despite a torn muscle, he not only attended the Derby but was its runner-up.

Mind you, both Hart and Broxton were not the players thought of to be in the playoffs. Most thought it would be Ryan Braun, Prince Fielder, and/or Carlos Gomez (as I don’t think most fans realized it was only going to be a two-person final; I know I didn’t). Hart was probably picked more often than Broxton, though, because Hart was known to be a power-hitter (Hart, like Broxton, was also excellent defensively and quite speedy before knee injuries robbed him of his speed and flexibility).

But it was Broxton’s day. He won the Derby, he took a celebratory trot around the basepaths, and when he got to home plate, all the Brewers alumni who’d participated fell down (as they did once for Prince Fielder after a booming homerun).

See, the Derby was just plain fun. Lots of good things came out of it, and fans went away smiling even though the game beforehand wasn’t the best (as the Brewers lost to the Miami Marlins, 5-1).

The reason I talked of both things — Mangione’s passing, along with his huge hit “Feels So Good,” along with the Brewers Alumni Home Run Derby — is because they both promoted happiness and well-being. The song is a bit playful (if you ever listen to the whole thing; it’s often sampled now in commercials, which to me waters down its impact), while the Derby sparkled with former Brewers still showcasing their God-given abilities.

Of the alumni, Hart and Fielder both suffered injuries that ended their careers far earlier than they would’ve liked, but on this day it did not matter…they gave joy to the fans, who gave joy to them, and it was almost a picture-perfect version of a positive feedback loop.

At any rate, the fact remains that we have to look for reasons for hope sometimes. We need that. We need to know that it’s not only OK to have fun, it’s necessary.

Chuck Mangione knew that. The Brewers alumni knew that (and still know that), too.

Somehow, I need to remember that in my own life.

I will work on it, as my life continues its major upheaval (as I will be moving soon, destination still unknown).

Mourning the Passing of Milwaukee Bucks Legend Junior Bridgeman, 71

leave a comment »

Junior Bridgeman was the type of person everyone should want to be. He came from very modest means, once building a stereo out of spare parts with his brother (spare parts he’d scavenged, I’d heard) because otherwise he couldn’t listen to music. He played fourteen years in the National Basketball Association (NBA), most of them for the Milwaukee Bucks, and turned the money he made there (about $350,000 over his full career) into over a billion dollars by the time he passed away suddenly earlier today.

I say all that, because it’s been reported widely, especially in Wisconsin. But Bridgeman was known for his kindness, his optimism, his humility, and for being a family man around these parts, far more than his business acumen (which was formidable) or his friendships with other NBA players like Earvin “Magic” Johnson, Alex English, even Shaquille O’Neal. Bridgeman was the type of guy to do anything for anyone, as he had a good heart, a kind soul, and truly cared about others.

You know how Google’s motto has often been summed up as “Don’t be Evil,” right? Well, Bridgeman’s personal motto should’ve been something like this: “Do good. It matters, whether it looks like it or not.” That, along with living his personal values and faith — in himself, in others, and in the world at large, along with faith in the Higher Power — was what Junior Bridgeman was all about.

I remember seeing Bridgeman play on television when I was young. He could do anything. He was a great passer, he was a gifted scorer, could play both forward and guard despite the fact he was only 6’5″ (short for an NBA player, even then), and was perhaps the best sixth man in the entirety of the NBA for most of his career. (A sixth man, for those of you who don’t know anything about basketball, is the first guy to come off the bench after the five people who start the game. He’s often one of the most important people on the team, as while he doesn’t have the cachet of a starting player, he’s expected to put up nearly as good of numbers and be an optimistic and maybe even a benevolent presence to be emulated by players not as good as himself that were also on the roster. I know I put that in a very wordy way; I apologize.)

So, being a sixth man was in some ways beneficial to Junior Bridgeman. He knew he didn’t have to be in the limelight all the time to live a good life, have a great career (his number is retired by the Bucks; he wore the number two), and do his best. Some stars, once the limelight is gone, do not do well; there are many stories of the Ryan Leafs of this world, where they get into DUIs, other legal troubles, and can’t acclimate themselves to the pace of a more normal life. Fortunately, Bridgeman did not have that trouble at all.

Bridgeman, recently, became a minority owner of the Bucks. (Yes, he went from player to part-owner.) I don’t know a better rags-to-riches story than that, because it showed the current players that with far less money than they have now, Bridgeman was able to overcome and become a very savvy and accomplished businessman.

But that’s not really how I remember Junior Bridgeman. How I remember him isn’t even the on-court presence or the adept passing skills or the sweet jump shot Bridgeman possessed. Instead, it’s his penchant for helping others.

When we lose someone as kind-hearted as Junior Bridgeman, some of the light goes out of this world. The only consolation we can have is this: he shared his light for as long as he could, and maybe kindled light in others, who will continue to be beacons throughout their lifetimes.

I mourn the loss of Junior Bridgeman tonight. I hope his family, friends, teammates, the entire Bucks organization, and anyone else Bridgeman ever knew or ever helped will be comforted, somehow, by what I said above.

The light he shared matters. The example he set also matters.

But damn, I wish Junior Bridgeman was still here with us, to help more of us see the light.

Kindness Matters…Still

with 2 comments

So far, 2025 as a year has not been kind to most of us. There is so much going on that’s awful…whether it’s politicians saying things that are nonsensical (not just United States politicians, either), wildfires breaking out and causing sudden evacuations in California, the colder-than-cold winter (caused so far by relatively high humidity, at least in Southeastern Wisconsin, along with the cold temps, making this the type of cold weather that chills one to the bone), it can be hard to find good things to talk about.

Good things still happen, though. They happen all the time.

Here’s one good thing that happened to me last weekend. I had just finished shopping for food and had a sudden craving for onion rings. (I hadn’t had them in over a year.) I went to a Burger King and ordered what I could afford: a medium-sized order of onion rings and a value soda. To my surprise, the cashier gave me a large-sized order of onion rings plus the soda, and didn’t charge me anything.

I was perplexed, and asked her again if she wanted the money I’d planned to spend. She said, “May you have a blessed day” and refused my money. I said, “May you have one also! Thank you!” and drove off with a smile on my face.

I have to say those onion rings are probably the best I’ve ever tasted, too.

I also read, today, the story of actor Steve Guttenberg’s actions out in California. He’s now sixty-six years old and is known mostly for the series of films starting with “Police Academy.” I hadn’t thought about him in years, though he’s an excellent comic actor…anyway, Guttenberg’s actions during the current crop of awful wildfires out in California have been exemplary. He has said — my best approximation — that if you are able-bodied, or if you are able at all, you need to help others.

See, the wildfires are so bad out there that people have been leaving their cars with the keys inside, just trying to get away. Some of the folks who’ve had to do this are older, or are mobility impaired (as I am), and Guttenberg dislikes it when people just act like they’re all for themselves and forget about everyone else. He has pointed out that this is a community of people, and they all need help. He’s going to stay there and help as long as he can, because he’s a human being and he cares.

Maybe as many as ten years ago, or fifteen years ago, this would not have been a story, even though it happened to a well-known actor. It is now because so many people have forgotten the axiom “one hand for the self, one hand for the ship.” (My father was in the U.S. Navy, as I’ve said before, and that was one of his favorite sayings ever.)

Mind you, “so many people” is still a minority rather than a majority, thank goodness, or we’d not see actions like those of Steve Guttenberg. Or of the cashier at Burger King, either, for that matter.

So, as you go about your week, keep this in mind: Kindness matters. (Still.) Do your best to be kind, help others, and treat everyone the way you want to be treated: with respect and dignity. That’s what’s needed in this world, now more than ever…and that’s why I wrote this blog, because I was so happy to see it.

Fighting Walking Pneumonia…and My Thoughts on Sports Stuff

with 5 comments

I’ve been in and out of the doctor’s office the last three months. I was initially diagnosed with bronchitis, then I was diagnosed with bronchitis with a sinus infection/asthma exacerbation, and now I’ve been diagnosed with walking pneumonia. Antibiotics have been prescribed.

The weather is gray, we’re anticipating snow (again), and I’ve been feeling down due to being sick for so long. (If anyone’s fought any illnesses for months, they know what I’m talking about.) Optimism is at a premium, while a whole lot of things have had to slide as I have done battle to breathe, stay alive, and do whatever I can to help my friends and clients (much less my own family).

Now, I have had a few bright spots to point out, though they mostly have to do with sports. The Milwaukee Brewers won the team Gold Glove Award for best overall defense in the National League. They also had two players win individual Gold Gloves, those being second baseman Brice Turang and right fielder Sal Frelick. (A third, center fielder Blake Perkins, was a finalist but did not win. Perkins is an extraordinarily gifted defensive outfielder, nearly as good as Lorenzo Cain and Mike Cameron, among others, and a Gold Glove seems like it’s only a matter of time for Perkins.) In fact, Turang won another award, the Platinum Glove, for being the best overall defender in the National League.

These were bright spots, along with manager Pat Murphy winning Manager of the Year and General Manager Matt Arnold winning Executive of the Year. This shows how much the Brewers team effort mattered. While they didn’t go far in the playoffs yet again, the future seems bright as the team is young and the team is hungry.

Of course, we Brewers fans have to take the good with the bad, and the bad is that All-Star closer Devin Williams was traded to the New York Yankees for a pitcher, Nestor Cortes, and a utility infielder, Caleb Durbin (considered more of a prospect), along with a reported $2M in cash. While the Brewers have several excellent relievers, none of them was as polished or as steady as Williams in my humble opinion. Williams also did many wonderful things in the Milwaukee area for charity and to promote youth baseball efforts, and while one can hope Nestor Cortes will do some of the same while in Milwaukee, that’s unknown at this time. (It also won’t have the benefit of being from a guy who spent five years in Milwaukee and knew the ins and outs of the entire community, much less the most urgent needs.)

Anyway, in addition, the Milwaukee Bucks have been playing very well lately after a horrible 2-8 start. (They had several close games in that start; they weren’t all blowouts by any means. But it still wasn’t good.) They’re now 14-9, I think, and just won the NBA Emirates Cup tournament, held in Las Vegas a few days ago. They decisively beat the Oklahoma City Thunder, one of the best defensive teams in the NBA, partly because the Bucks’ defense was outstanding and partly because the Thunder couldn’t hit much in the way of three-point shots to save their lives.

I’ve been most pleased with Damian Lillard’s performance this season, though as per usual Giannis Antetokounmpo is getting nearly all the glory. (For good reasons, mind you. Giannis is an outstanding player and may be the NBA’s best.) As I read recently in, I think, the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel, Lillard has done something very few superstars have done and taken on a role, in his prime, to aid another superstar in Giannis in order to help the team win.

Let that soak in a bit.

Lillard is considered one of the top 75 players to ever play in the NBA, right along with Giannis. He is a brilliant scorer, he is an excellent assist-man when asked to do that, and he’s shown some gritty defense that’s been absolutely unexpected from a guy previously considered to be all-offense, all the time.

What Lillard has done reminds me of another Milwaukee Buck of many years ago, that being Oscar Robertson. Robertson was acquired in a trade from the then-Cincinnati Royals (later they became the Sacramento Kings, I think) in 1970, and without him, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and the other luminaries on the 1970-1971 Bucks would have not been able to win the NBA championship. Robertson always had dished out assists, mind you, and he was never thought of as “offense only” as Lillard was for so many years (unfairly, to my mind, in Lillard’s part). But he moderated his scoring somewhat in order to win an NBA Championship with the Milwaukee Bucks, and he was the second option, behind Jabbar, in the same way that Lillard is the second option behind Giannis.

I think it takes an extra-special mindset to do something like that. I really do. It’s hard to change your game, the one you’ve played all these years to so much success, in order to sublimate your ego for the team’s. Robertson had that mindset, and so does Lillard.

My father was a huge fan of the Bucks, as I believe I have said before, and he told me a lot about Oscar Robertson as I grew up. (I was too young to see Robertson play in his prime.) I think Dad would get a kick out of the fact that Lillard seems to be doing similar things that Robertson did back in the early 1970s, and he’d be happy that Lillard’s playing solid defense as well as dishing out assists along with scoring whenever he’s needed. (He’s averaging 25.7 points a game, 7.5 assists per game, and 4.5 rebounds a game, all excellent numbers by any standards, especially considering he’s thirty-four years old. That’s on the older side for an NBA player, and it’s older than Robertson was when Robertson decided to moderate his game after being traded to the Bucks as Robertson was thirty-two.)

Of course, Robertson and Lillard have both had the benefit of superior coaching, excellent teammates, and their own seemingly limitless energy, effort, and, to put it bluntly, brains. It takes all of that to sublimate yourself to the betterment of the team, and it’s incredibly hard to do. I applaud Lillard for doing it, as I believe he will indeed benefit from it in the long run.

Anyway, that’s it for now…I’m trying to heal up, so I can write, edit, comment, etc., more often.

I wish everyone who has read this far a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year, a warm Winter Solstice, Merry Yuletide, and a fine celebration of life with your loved ones at this particular time of year. May the season bring you joy, peace, and magic…at least the human-type of magic a smile and honest caring brings.

Dissecting Shinedown’s Song “A Symptom of Being Human”

with 2 comments

First, before I get into my dissection — it’ll be quick, painless, and maybe even fun — I want you to listen to Shinedown’s song “A Symptom of Being Human.” (Bonus: this YouTube link will show you their video along with it, as per usual.)

OK, now that you’ve done that…the reason I picked Shinedown’s song to discuss today (thus, dissection) is because it’s a perfect song to reflect with. (It is Sunday, after all.) It works both as poetry and as music, and it is deceptively low-key, almost sneaky (in a good way!) in its message that we’re all human and we’re all fallible. We all have human moments, and we shouldn’t feel bad about it when we do.

“You’ve always been slightly awkward, kind of weird. Upside-down and not all here…what’s wrong with me and you is crystal clear,” is quite a lyric. It depicts solidarity at a time of crisis, and reminds you that it’s OK to be awkward. It’s OK to have human moments. It’s even OK not to be OK. (All of these things are not new to me. Lead singer of Shinedown Brent Smith has said exactly that during several live videos of “A Symptom of Being Human.” I recommend the one in Allen, TX, but several of them are extant and they’re all excellent.)

“We’re all just passing through. Passengers on a ship of fools,” is one of the refrains. That indicates how a lot of us feel. The world goes on, sometimes it doesn’t make any sense whatsoever, and certainly we do at times like that feel like we’re on a ship of fools.

See, there’s a lot of unnecessary drama in this world. People get mad for the most ridiculous things, and sometimes it doesn’t make any sense later when you think about it. We’re all human beings, we are going to have bad days, and yet sometimes it seems like the universe is just piling it on. How much more can we take? What else can we do to possibly alleviate the pain we have on such days?

Personally, I turn to music. That’s how I found Shinedown’s song. Brent Smith has said (not sure where I saw this) that he wrote this during the Covid pandemic lockdown. The loneliness, the pain of having to be with ourselves and loved ones without much in the way of distraction, is what apparently lead to this song. (The way I summed it up is probably not the way Mr. Smith would say it. That’s my way of explaining it.)

Over the last few months, I’ve listened to a great many different groups I’d never really paid attention to before. Shinedown is one of them, partly because of this great, introspective song. Melodically it’s quite lyrical. It’s open, but there’s more to ponder there, and the melodic line goes along with it. The refrains are easy to sing along with. The message is clear: be good to yourself, and if you have human moments, remember that we all do.

One of my favorite lyrics is, “Unpack all your baggage, hide it in the attic, where you hope it disappears.” Remember what I said above about unnecessary drama? Well, this may be the antithesis of it, in a way…you’re trying to portray a good front for people to not let on that you’re hurting, and hurting badly. You hope your pain will disappear, so you can go on and pretend you’re doing better than you really are.

But if you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you know what I’m going to say, right? Putting on fronts is stupid. It takes away from your personal energy. It takes away from your personal creativity. It tries to make you conform to what is expected of you — someone who won’t make waves, someone who won’t complain when things around you are too desperate to be borne.

I’m not saying you should partake in unnecessary drama, because that also wastes your energy. I do think you should use my late husband Michael’s Buddhist trick, and tell yourself, “OK, universe, I am going to feel exactly how I am for ten minutes.” Then, after you’ve felt it all — maybe it’s anger, maybe it’s frustration, maybe it’s despair, maybe it’s bewilderment, who knows? — you can say, “All right. I’ve felt this. I know it. Now, let’s go on about my day.” You put it aside, yes, but you don’t deny it.

Why don’t you deny it? Well, denial of what’s obvious is dumb. We shouldn’t do it. When we do, we’re invalidating ourselves before the universe even gets a chance to do it. Before the day goes bad, we’re already telling ourselves that we have to pretend to be OK in order not to bother everyone else, when the real reason we shouldn’t pretend (but use the Buddhist trick, above) is that we can’t be who we are if we’re putting on a front.

Shinedown’s song points out that we all have our good days and bad ones. It also says something I’m going to interpret this way: Maybe we should start celebrating our vulnerability rather than running from it. Maybe we should try to remember that we all hurt sometimes, and that it is better to acknowledge this than to waste your time and energy putting up a front that probably won’t change how anyone thinks of you anyway.

Look. I believe, strongly, that we all are individuals. I don’t like blind conformity. I definitely don’t like unnecessary drama, and I am completely frustrated with a whole lot of what I see in the world. But I try to spread kindness, when I can. I try to help others, even when I’m hurting, because that’s who I am. I do the best I can to remind people that they matter. Their pain matters, along with their joy, their happiness, whatever journey they’re on to find themselves and figure out their purpose…well, it all matters.

Shinedown’s song speaks to all of this, and it’s why I’ve done my best to share my thoughts about “A Symptom of Being Human” with you all.

For those of you struggling, this Sunday or any day, I want you to remember that you are much better than you know. You matter. Who you are, where you’ve come from, your journey…it is all vital, essential, and meaningful.

Don’t let your light go out of the world without a fight, in other words.

That’s what I think about on bad days, and it helps me. I hope it helps you, too.

Don’t Bet the Farm on Mega Millions Jackpot, Folks

with 6 comments

As a long-time minimum-amount player of both the Mega Millions and the Powerball lotteries in the United States, I figured it was time to write this blog. I hope it’s educational.

Folks, as the title says, do not bet the farm on the upcoming Mega Millions jackpot.

Why am I writing this? Well, it’s simple. People who normally don’t buy lottery tickets at all are doing things like mortaging their home — really — or pawning things they use every day (yes, really!) in order to get more tickets for the upcoming drawing on Friday, August 4, 2023.

Even folks who normally are quite sensible about things are buying up to $100 worth of tickets at one time. As the Mega Millions ticket is now $2 ($3 if you get the Megaplier option, which will multiply your win should you have one), that means they’ve bought 50 lines of numbers if they didn’t get the Megaplier.

This may seem a better choice than the one ticket I’m going to buy of my regular numbers (no, I won’t tell you what they are), but it’s actually not. Every line on a lottery ticket has the exact, same odds. When you’re talking about something that has an odds of winning of one in 302,575,350 — yes, that is roughly one in three hundred million — fifty lines won’t help you.

In fact, buying more than, say, $20 at a time (not that I can afford this), is not smart.

Remember, the Mega Millions or Powerball are meant as entertainment. For $2 and a dream, you can have a wish-fulfillment fantasy of “what would I do if I had enough money to do everything I want.”

Obviously, I do play the lottery. I have pretty much my entire life, though I have played far more often since my husband died. Why? Because he and I both liked to play, and it’s something I can do that reminds me of him and his optimism for our future. (Not necessarily financial optimism, as Michael knew as well as I did what the odds were.) It’s something that doesn’t cost a lot, gives me a bit of a mental vacation sometimes, and offers a hope-against-hope in financially bettering my situation in a hurry.

Still, your chances are a lot better to win your money back or maybe a smaller prize than the huge one. I have won the small prize quite often (it’s usually around three bucks, and consists of maybe two numbers and/or one number plus the Powerball or Mega ball). It isn’t life changing money, obviously, but it allows you to play again if you wish without too much guilt or aggravation.

So, you know I am a (at least minor) gambler and/or risk-taker. (I’d have to be, to be a writer, but I digress.) Maybe you think my thoughts on these huge jackpots (the MM jackpot currently is at $1.25 billion) is a bit hypocritical since I’ve already said I will play myself.

It’s not, and here’s why.

You have to stick to a budget when it comes to your entertainment. Figure out what you can afford, and only spend that.

This is why you should not ever be getting loans to buy hundreds of dollars of tickets. This is why you shouldn’t pawn anything to buy more tickets, either. (Those things should be reserved for paying urgent bills when there’s nothing and no one else to help, not playing the lotto.)

If it’s going to happen, it’ll happen. If not, it won’t. It’s just that simple.

Finally, I read recently that eleven female sanitation workers in India won a high-value jackpot. (Here’s a link to the story at the Guardian.) They were so poor that they had to scrape and scrounge up the money to buy a ticket. In fact, two were so very poor, they had to borrow from their other sanitation worker friends to be able to take part in buying a ticket, and because of that their take will be less than everyone else’s. (Still life-changing money for them, but less.)

When a consortium of hard-working people who haven’t made much money in their lives wins a jackpot on one ticket, that kind of sums it all up for me.

So: Don’t bet the farm on the lottery, folks. Do play in moderation, if you wish, and keep track of it when it comes to your entertainment budget.

Remember that for the most part, a lottery ticket is a possibility — a very slight one, mind — that your life could improve tomorrow at least in a financial sense. But the only one who can improve your life overall in any sense is you, which is why you have to keep an eye on what you’re doing and why.

So, what do you think of the various lottery prizes? What do you think of what I just wrote? What’s your philosophy when it comes to buying tickets? (My brother’s is to not do it. He’s a mathematician and math instructor and he knows the odds.) Do you believe in mental vacations? Whatever it is, please tell me in the comments…don’t want to be all alone in the void, you know.

My Latest Adventure: Tire Repair at Oh-Dark-Thirty (by Good Samaritan)

with 2 comments

Folks, it’s taken me a bit over twenty-four hours to write about this, but I had a bit of an adventure on Wednesday evening.

I was driving back from Mom’s place about a half hour before midnight, and I heard one of my tires go “flap, flap, flap.” This is a very ominous sign; it means the tire has blown out, nine times out of ten.

Anyway, I went to the closest gas station (about a quarter of a mile away), and tried to put air in it, just in case it would hold enough air to get back home, seven miles away.

It didn’t hold air.

At this point, a Good Samaritan (who told me his name, but I was so scattered, it went in one ear and out the other) stopped at this gas station on his two-wheel pedal bike. (Not an e-bike.) I have to admit that I was startled, as I was putting air in the tire at the time. He took over trying to do that, and asked if I had a spare tire.

I’d already looked in the trunk, and I couldn’t find it. It wasn’t in the standard place — at least, not where I usually expect it to be, close to the wheel wells and underneath just about everything else in the trunk. Nope. Instead, this was closer to being underneath the backseat, in the trunk, than anything. (It still was underneath everything else, so I guess that’s something.)

I can hear at least a few of you asking why I didn’t call for roadside assistance. Well, I tried, as I do have AAA. They sent back a link to follow, which would’ve been fine if I used a smartphone; I don’t. This meant I had no way to get a hold of them whatsoever.

Anyway, after nearly an hour, the Good Samaritan (a sixty-year-old Black man) and I found my spare tire and the jack. Within the next twenty-five minutes, he’d gotten the old tire off (yes, it had blown out, and had steel belts sticking out the sides of the tire in a weird, almost retro fashion) and put the “shorty” — also called the doughnut — onto the car.

As some of you might be wondering, the police saw that me and my car were in distress and stopped by. At that time, they also saw that my Good Samaritan had things well in hand, thanked him, and drove off again. (I was happy with that, as by that time we’d found the spare tire and the jack, and the old tire was nearly off.)

I didn’t have much money to give him, but I gave him what I had, plus some of my mom’s good coupons. (Mom is what you might call an extreme coupon clipper. She usually has excellent coupons for $5 off toilet paper or $8.99 off specific brands.) I thanked him profusely (at one point, he told me to get out the baseball bat he’d seen in my trunk, just in case anyone else tried coming along who wasn’t so friendly, so I used my baseball bat as a cane while all this was going on), and then drove off.

The car felt really weird with that doughnut on. The vibrations — which I always notice, being a musician — were wrong. That’s an emergency tire only, which is why I went to get tires on Thursday afternoon…but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Back to the story.

So, I had called my father to let him know there was a problem right after I’d pulled off into the gas station, which was at least one hour and forty-five minutes before I ventured on back home. My phone decided it didn’t want to call anyone else, thank you, and lost all charge (even though I’d left Mom’s with a full charge; this phone is very strange). Once I was back, I let my father know I was OK, and we talked a little bit about the earlier Brewers game (which they lost to St. Louis).

Because of the emergency — which lasted a little over two hours — I sweated through everything. I managed to take a shower despite muscle cramps in weird places and all sorts of back and leg spasms. This helped somewhat, at least with the pain.

Anyway, I didn’t sleep all that well, or for very long. I knew I couldn’t leave that doughnut on the car, as I said before…so I started calling various places to try to find tires at a price I could afford.

Most of the places quoted two tires of the type I needed as being over $300. (As I have a 2010 Hyundai Accent, this seemed odd. A few years ago, I got tires — I think it was even all four tires — for around $175.) None of the places had these tires in stock but said they could order them.

At this point, I talked with my friend Lika (who also lives in Racine). She had found some good used tires of the same type as I needed and recommended this tire place called Mickey’s LLC on Twelfth and Washington Avenue in Racine. As my car has 130K miles on it, tires that have a good amount of tread but aren’t necessarily new are a whole lot better than having that doughnut on one side and a tire that was nearly as bad on the other. (Worst of all, my car is a front-wheel drive, and the two bad tires — the blown-out one and the other — were both on the front.)

Anyway, I was pleased with the service I received and with the tires. They were affordable, the tire repairman was quite pleasant, and he told me that my Good Samaritan had told the truth. Both tires needed immediate replacement, and one of the two back tires also needed replacement before winter starts. (The other went bad about eight or nine months ago and was replaced at that time.)

With the new-to-me tires on the car, it once again had the vibration it should. The tires were the right size and the right shape, so that made sense.

The tire repairman also told me that probably next spring, I should have someone rotate the tires and do an alignment, considering the aberrant pattern of wear on the old tires. This also made sense to me. (It was also suggested by the Good Samaritan, who said that he could tell I had a lot on my plate with various responsibilities, and that he wished my husband were still alive so this had never happened. Michael was good with cars, in the main, and having two people rather than one person checking the car before going anywhere is a sensible suggestion.)

For the moment, I have the doughnut on the top of the trunk, along with the jack, just in case that back tire goes bad before I can replace it. (The tire repairman said he may have a tire for my car tomorrow, and if not, by Monday. I intend to replace that other tire, which might make it a month or two and that’s all, ASAP. No more blow-outs for me, thanks…not even slow-speed ones.)

So, that was the entirety of the adventure. I met a very kind-hearted man who helped me a great deal in that Good Samaritan. The police came out and were friendly, kind, and made sure I was OK before leaving again. The tire repairman at Mickey’s was also friendly, kind, and helpful.

It was an ordeal nonetheless…but it was much lesser of an ordeal than it could’ve been.

There are indeed good people in this world.

Written by Barb Caffrey

September 16, 2022 at 2:45 am

My Thoughts, As A Widow, On Recent “This is Us” Episodes

with 10 comments

(What a pretentious title, huh? But it was the best I could do…moving on.)

My Mom and I have watched NBC’s TV show “This is Us” about the Pearson clan for several years. (I can’t recall if we watched it regularly until the third year, but we did watch.) I’ve had a great deal of empathy for various characters. I remember Randall (played by Sterling K. Brown), the Black man raised in a white family, meeting his biological father for the first time. That was both difficult and heartening, all by itself; when the Pearsons, en masse, decided to welcome William (Randall’s bio father), it became something more.

Anyway, the matriarch of the Pearsons is Rebecca, played by Mandy Moore. We see her when she’s young and heavily pregnant; we see her when she’s in her late twenties/early thirties, raising her kids; we see her in her fifties and sixties, after her first husband’s passed away and she’s married her second one; we see her, finally, with Alzheimer’s disease, dying with her kids and grandkids around her.

Rebecca’s story is the one that I took to the most, over time. (This is not surprising, I suppose.) She loved her first husband Jack with everything that she had, and when he died unexpectedly, still in his prime, her world collapsed.

I understand how that feels extremely well.

Rebecca, unlike me, had three children who were all teenagers. She still had to be there for them. She also had good friends, including Miguel (the man who later became her second husband), her husband’s best friend. The friends helped Rebecca and her kids accustom themselves to a life with a Jack-sized hole in it.

This was not easy for any of them. Jack was an interesting, kind, funny, hard-working, loving man who adored his wife and was so ecstatic to be a father. He had his faults, including battles with alcoholism, that he tried to hide from his wife (and mostly did hide, successfully, from his children). But his virtues far outweighed his flaws.

Obviously, Jack’s loss was hardest on Rebecca. She was still in her prime, in her late thirties/early forties. She hadn’t expected to be a widow, much less so soon. But she was one, and she had to adapt on the fly, just as her kids were starting to flee the nest.

As her kids married, divorced, remarried, had children, and lived their lives, one thing was clear: even if their spouses had been divorced, they were still part of the Pearson clan. They were still welcome at every family function. They were included, not excluded, because the Pearsons believed “the more the merrier,” which probably came from Rebecca being pregnant with triplets in the first place. (The third triplet died, which is why Rebecca and Jack adopted Randall, who was born on the same day and needed a family as his mother had died and his father — then — was completely unknown.)

Of course, there were oddities that happened to the Pearsons. (How else? Life itself is strange.)

One of them was when Randall’s father, William, made contact with Rebecca and Jack when Randall was quite young. William felt Randall was better off where he was, as William was battling a drug addiction along with poverty and much frustration; that was an extremely hard decision, but one that reaped major dividends late in life when Randall (in his thirties, roughly) found that William had known a) he was Randall’s bio father and b) where Randall was the entire time. Randall forgave William, in time, and as I said before, the Pearsons welcomed William until the day William died.

That said, for many fans, the oddest oddity of them all was the fact of Miguel marrying Rebecca. We knew Miguel was with Rebecca from the start (or nearly), because “This is Us” has always told its story in a non-linear fashion. We also knew that Miguel was Jack’s best friend, that he was appreciative of Rebecca from the start (he told Jack to make sure he married Rebecca, because “someone else” would; maybe even he didn’t know that someone else, someday, would be Miguel himself), and that while Jack lived Miguel made no moves (as a quality human being, of course he didn’t).

Because of the jumping back and forth in time effect, though, until the last few episodes it was impossible to tell when Miguel had married Rebecca. (That Rebecca had developed Alzheimer’s, and Miguel was caring for her until his own death, was something explored in great depth this past season.)

Why?

Well, Miguel didn’t get an episode revolving around him until a few weeks ago. That’s when I found out that Miguel had waited several years, had moved away to a different state, and made sure his feelings were real (and not something conjured out of pity and the deep, abiding friendship he’d always had with Rebecca while Jack was still alive) before he married Rebecca.

We still didn’t see his marriage, which was the second marriage for both of them. (Miguel’s first marriage ended in divorce.) But we saw how he took care of Rebecca. He was tender, kind, compassionate, loving, and altogether the right person for her after Jack died.

I was happy she found another good man to love.

This may sound odd, if you’ve read my blog for years. I thought for quite a few years that my heart was not big enough to admit another love — romantic love, anyway — after Michael’s way-too-early death.

While I found out that was wrong, the two men I’ve cared about in the past few years did not end up growing with me in the same way. They did not want the same things. (Or in one case, even if he had, he could not express that. He is neuro-divergent.)

The man who might’ve been “my Miguel” was Jeff Wilson, who died in 2011. Jeff didn’t know Michael, so that part wouldn’t be analogous. But Jeff knew I was the person I am because of Michael. Jeff also was my best friend of many years (seven, at the time of his death), and during his fatal health crisis said to me, with a weary yet humorous tone in his voice, “Can we please proceed to the dating phase now?”

I’ll never know what would’ve happened had Jeff lived. But I knew I was going to try, and I told him that.

Then he died, after he’d been improving; his death was unexpected, and he was only a year older than Michael had been when Michael died.

So, two men. Both interesting, intelligent, funny, hard-working, creative…both themselves, indelibly themselves, and I cared about them — loved them — both. (I did not yet have romantic love for Jeff, but I certainly was getting there at the time of his death. I definitely had agape love and philios also.)

Anyway, Rebecca’s death episode was this past Tuesday. She was pictured on a train. She saw William (acting as the conductor); she saw her obstetrician (acting as a bartender). She saw her kids, possibly including her deceased triplet (I wasn’t sure about that), at various ages. She heard the various well-wishes of the Pearson clan, including from her daughter’s ex-husband, her son Kevin’s wife (he’d only married twice, to the same woman, but many years apart), and her sons. But she was waiting “for something”…

As she’s waiting, she sees Miguel, a passenger on the train. He salutes her with his drink, and tells her she’s still his favorite person.

This made me cry.

Miguel got no more time in that episode, which upset me. I thought Rebecca should’ve gone to him, hugged him, and said “thank you.” Her mentation has been restored, on the train; she knows that Miguel helped her while she was so ill with Alzheimer’s. She also got a second wonderful husband in addition to her first, which is very rare…yet while she smiled at him, and seemed happy to see him, she didn’t go to him.

This made me even sadder.

The end of the episode came when her daughter, Kate, was able to get there (she’d been overseas). As she says goodbye, Rebecca clearly crosses over and enters “the caboose,” where her first husband, Jack, waits.

That’s where the episode ended.

I don’t know what’ll happen in the finale of “This is Us.” I do hope that Miguel’s contribution to Rebecca’s life, and to the entire life of the Pearson clan, will somehow be recognized. (Her children all told her to say “hey” to their father for them, but no one asked her to hug Miguel if they saw him. That, too, bugged me, but maybe the writers wrote it and they had no time to get it into the episode.) It’s obvious that without him in her later years (even before she got Alheimer’s), there wouldn’t have been as much acceptance and love from the Pearsons as a whole.

Anyway, my take as a widow is that I want there to be some recognition of how much good Miguel did for Rebecca, and that Jack had no problems with it as Miguel both made her happy and helped her as her mentation declined. (Miguel also still saw Rebecca as the same person, even with her mind going; her own children couldn’t always do that, as her daughter Kate pointed out in a recent episode.)

To be able to love again after such tragedy was wonderful. To not express thankfulness and gratitude for loving again…well, had it been me in that position, I hope I’d have done better.

(And yes, I know they’re all characters. Not real people. But they surely felt real, which is why I hope that Mandy Moore wins an Emmy for her portrayal of Rebecca and that Jon Huertas wins an Emmy as well for his excellent supporting work.)

Sunday Thoughts: Creativity and the New Matrix Movie, Resurrections

with 4 comments

I found no way to write this without spoilers. If you have not seen Matrix Resurrections yet, proceed at your own risk.

As a writer, I am often inspired by unusual things.

I take note of all sorts of things, you see. I observe them. I think about them, sometimes only subconsciously, but I ponder them. And I wonder, often, what would have happened if I’d have chosen a much smaller life.

(I do not think that would’ve been a good idea, mind you. But let’s stay with the concept.)

This all matters to me, as a person, especially due to the fact that I’ve been creative my entire life. And as I’ve grown into midlife, there are so many different messages that have been thrown at me. “Grow up,” says one. “Stop fantasizing that your career will ever matter,” says another. “What you do as a writer…what’s the point of it? No one reads what you say, so who cares?”

And then, there are the bills. The obligations. The chores. The never-ending minutiae of life.

All of this can weigh me down. Add in health problems, as anyone who’s read this blog for a while has to have figured out, and the weight of sorrow as my life-partner has been dead now for over seventeen years, and it sometimes seems overwhelming.

“But Barb,” you say. “What about the new Matrix movie, Resurrections? You put that into your title, right? You are going to talk about it, aren’t you?”

Yes, I am. Because I think much of the commentary regarding Matrix Resurrections is flat-out wrong. They are missing the point, which is this: Just because you’re older, your love shouldn’t be trivialized. And fighting for love matters more than anything in this world.

Anything.

Very few of the critics have even touched on this, and that annoys me. Even those critics who’ve enjoyed the movie have discussed more obvious themes and have pointed out that Resurrections builds heavily on what has gone before in the previous Matrix trilogy. (How it was supposed to do anything else is beyond me. But let’s not go there.)

Mind you, some of the commentary is quite interesting, as it discusses trans rights and “deadnames” — that is, the name you were given at birth is not the name you go by (such as the fate of the late Leelah Alcorn) — and some of it quite rightly points out the romance between Trinity and Neo carries the film.

But they still are missing a huge point, and I can’t help but point out the elephant in the room.

Look. It’s easy, when you get into midlife, to let those messages I delineated above overwhelm you. It’s really easy to let the weight of words, and life itself, stop you from being who you truly are.

Neo, in Matrix Resurrections, is again going by his original name, Thomas Anderson. Trinity is now a character, only, in a game Thomas supposedly created. (That the Matrix was diabolical enough to do this is another problem entirely, mind you, but often when we get to midlife, people completely misunderstand what the Hell we’re doing as creative sorts. I tend to take that as allegory, personally.) The person who’s alive and should be Trinity is now named Tiffany (going by Tiff), and she has children and a husband. And only Neo knows that “Tiffany” is really Trinity.

But how can he convince anyone of that, when he can’t convince anyone that he’s Neo, not simply Thomas Anderson? Especially when other people only see an older and broken man, someone who’s survived a suicide attempt, and who lives alone and mostly unnoticed.

Hell, he doesn’t even have a pet to take care of. He’s that isolated.

Those around him completely misunderstand what he’s about, and he’s been led to believe that the one person he’s ever loved was someone he made up himself.

I understand all of this very well.

For Neo to reclaim himself, to reclaim his life, and to free Trinity so the two of them could go on and live the lives they were born to lead is the most important part of this film. (How they get there is not relevant to this discussion, but I will say that as an editor of SF&F, it worked well for me.) That they have a true partnership, a true meeting of the minds, and a truly good relationship where both are more together than they are separately (even though they’re both interesting, separately) is extremely important, to me as a widow.

(Yes, I like vicarious wish-fulfillment, sometimes. Sue me.)

At any rate, I was deeply moved by Matrix Resurrections. I loved the new characters (Bugs in particular, a blue-haired and fierce female warrior/captain), I enjoyed the main plot, but the subtext and the emotion was what got to me.

I believe in love. I believe it matters more than anything in this world. And I believe in soul bonds that endure between one creative soul and another, that call to us despite all the noise this ultra-connected world throws at us.

I also believe that memories matter. And that no one can frame your memories except yourself.

So I urge you to check your assumptions at the door before you see Matrix Resurrections. But do see it, and then if you are in midlife — as I am — ask yourself these questions:

Does what I do matter? (Hell, yes.)

Even if no one ever reads what I write, should I continue? (Absolutely.)

Can you reclaim your life against nearly impossible odds? (I would like to think so!)

What do you think of this blog? Have you seen Matrix Resurrections, or are you going to see it? Tell me about it in the comments!