Well, many families have at least one, the picky eater. In our house, that mantle of food tester was placed upon my shoulders. Hardly a meal would be served than I quickly surveyed the landscape of food in front. Meat ( or like meat), vegetables, potatoe or comparables substitutes. Now, to lay claim to this title in the Jensen household, each category of food must NEVER....HITCH ON!!!If it "hitched on", it became or a portion of said categories immediatley became inedible by my standards.
Wednesday, August 29, 2018
Running with Dad
Growing up, I followed in my dad's footsteps by joining the high school cross country team. Forty years apart, we ran the same courses. One course in particular is an Illinois legend that brings all runners together...
One of the biggest high school races and a legend for all those who ran high school cross country in Illinois takes place in Detweiller Park on a small island in Peoria. Detweiller hosts a few regular races each year, a conference race, and the state finals. The same Detweiller course has existed for God only knows how long but my dad and I both ran it in our high school days. It's a quick rectangular course with few irregularities in the footing. There's a long slow incline at the end. It's also a tricky course as for most races a few hundred students are racing simultaneously. Dad would give me tips and tricks on how to best get around the tight corners when runners inevitably bunch up and the average pace slows for a few seconds. Stay on the inside, keep your elbows up but firm. Dad would tell me to 'watch out for the footing in this section as it's uneven and there's an unexpected pit that can cost you a sprained ankle if you aren't ready'.
I ran the Detweiller course at least fifeteen times in high school, I'm sure Dad did too. In fact, he has run it at least twice as much as I have as he would run it with me when I was preparing for a race or cooling down after one.
Here Dad is at Detweiller, when I ran the course the last time as a cross country freshman, hence the Knox hat. The course and weather was the same as it's always been.
One of the biggest high school races and a legend for all those who ran high school cross country in Illinois takes place in Detweiller Park on a small island in Peoria. Detweiller hosts a few regular races each year, a conference race, and the state finals. The same Detweiller course has existed for God only knows how long but my dad and I both ran it in our high school days. It's a quick rectangular course with few irregularities in the footing. There's a long slow incline at the end. It's also a tricky course as for most races a few hundred students are racing simultaneously. Dad would give me tips and tricks on how to best get around the tight corners when runners inevitably bunch up and the average pace slows for a few seconds. Stay on the inside, keep your elbows up but firm. Dad would tell me to 'watch out for the footing in this section as it's uneven and there's an unexpected pit that can cost you a sprained ankle if you aren't ready'.
Here Dad is at Detweiller, when I ran the course the last time as a cross country freshman, hence the Knox hat. The course and weather was the same as it's always been.
Same sport - Cross Country. Same course - Detweiller.
There were 40+ years between my dad running the Peoria course in highschool and me. The route never changed. It's a fast route for a mass of highschool runners with no bad spot to watch for the viewers.
Deitweiller is sacred ground for all cross country runners - past, present, and future. It has a sense of excitement surrounded by hundreds of highschoolers and family alongside vendors selling shoes, bags, shirts, anything a runner could ever dream of. Yet, you also saw seriousness amidst the excitement on the faces of the runners - this was the time to bring it. For Deitweiller is a unique route. Deitweiler, unlike other routes (with nicknames like 'nosebleed hill') sets the runner up to succeed. The course is a straight shot. The footing is relatively even. The turns around the trees are few and easy to glide in and out of (depending on your place in the pack). The weather is always perfect for a race. Never too hot with a breeze from the Mississippi helped along by the trees. This type of race is almost too easy - where are the haystacks of Elmwood and the grueling climb of Mt. Assissi. This race is in a way even tougher because of it's simplicity - because it's not about the pure physicality of cross country - it's all about the mentality - the game. To succeed at Deitweiller - you need to know your body on a good day and a bad, where you should be in the pack at all moments of the race, and know when you need to kick it and when to not. This is where people fail at Deitweiller - they think it's a piece of cake as it's quick and flat. Deitweiller's all about strategy - after all - at the end of the season, this is where the best of the best in Illinois come.
When you want to be on the outside - what your splits should be for 0.5, 1, 2, 3 miles, 3,1 finishing time. As I've looked at pictures from my dad's races at Detweiller and mine - there are almost no differences to show that time has lapsed. One might think the flat top grill hairstyle of the 50's would give the picture away - but not necessarily. The only thing that gave the time difference away was the fact that the photo was faded and in grayscale. 50 years after my dad ran the course and I'm sure for another 50 years to come (at least), highschool kids will still learn their strengths and weaknesses while battling it out and elbowing each other around the trees in back.
The tips and tricks to conquer the course that my dad used were still good for me in the early 2000's.
There were 40+ years between my dad running the Peoria course in highschool and me. The route never changed. It's a fast route for a mass of highschool runners with no bad spot to watch for the viewers.
Deitweiller is sacred ground for all cross country runners - past, present, and future. It has a sense of excitement surrounded by hundreds of highschoolers and family alongside vendors selling shoes, bags, shirts, anything a runner could ever dream of. Yet, you also saw seriousness amidst the excitement on the faces of the runners - this was the time to bring it. For Deitweiller is a unique route. Deitweiler, unlike other routes (with nicknames like 'nosebleed hill') sets the runner up to succeed. The course is a straight shot. The footing is relatively even. The turns around the trees are few and easy to glide in and out of (depending on your place in the pack). The weather is always perfect for a race. Never too hot with a breeze from the Mississippi helped along by the trees. This type of race is almost too easy - where are the haystacks of Elmwood and the grueling climb of Mt. Assissi. This race is in a way even tougher because of it's simplicity - because it's not about the pure physicality of cross country - it's all about the mentality - the game. To succeed at Deitweiller - you need to know your body on a good day and a bad, where you should be in the pack at all moments of the race, and know when you need to kick it and when to not. This is where people fail at Deitweiller - they think it's a piece of cake as it's quick and flat. Deitweiller's all about strategy - after all - at the end of the season, this is where the best of the best in Illinois come.
When you want to be on the outside - what your splits should be for 0.5, 1, 2, 3 miles, 3,1 finishing time. As I've looked at pictures from my dad's races at Detweiller and mine - there are almost no differences to show that time has lapsed. One might think the flat top grill hairstyle of the 50's would give the picture away - but not necessarily. The only thing that gave the time difference away was the fact that the photo was faded and in grayscale. 50 years after my dad ran the course and I'm sure for another 50 years to come (at least), highschool kids will still learn their strengths and weaknesses while battling it out and elbowing each other around the trees in back.
The tips and tricks to conquer the course that my dad used were still good for me in the early 2000's.
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
Scratching For Peanuts!!!
Scratching for peanuts seems to be the mumblings of most of the work force today......
However, to me, the connotation is completely different!
As kids, the family would pack up for the summer vacation in Estes Park, Colorado (see previous posts ad nausea). Rams Horn Cottages was home base and daily trips into the park and surrounding lakes and rivers was always on the docket.
To my point, and the title......among the greatest excitement and thrills, aside from the horseback riding and watching the Indian employee at the Cottages pool dive off one end of the pool and come up at the other with a lit cigarette in his mouth...f..g awesome...I digress...was scratching peanuts against rocks or a wall and feeding chipmunks out of your hand. Mom always had a couple bags of peanuts and they were gone fairly fast. Thrills and a sense of attachment to these gentle creatures........................
Fast forward 50 years....chipmunks are a pain in the ass at the Lake. With all of the bird feeders, seeds are a natural attraction, like peanuts. Callie and Rory are trained to climb, chase and hunt them down and get rewards for kills...kinda like the markers of "kills" on WWII planes, but they eat their markers...TREATS (from the store, not chipmunks)!!!!
If there is a wounded one, old Brodie, who is as fast as a sloth it always there for the final kill. The others don't have the heart, but he thinks they are fluff toys..
Suffice it to say, we have not had a problem with chipmunk infestation at the cottage in years.
However, to me, the connotation is completely different!
As kids, the family would pack up for the summer vacation in Estes Park, Colorado (see previous posts ad nausea). Rams Horn Cottages was home base and daily trips into the park and surrounding lakes and rivers was always on the docket.
To my point, and the title......among the greatest excitement and thrills, aside from the horseback riding and watching the Indian employee at the Cottages pool dive off one end of the pool and come up at the other with a lit cigarette in his mouth...f..g awesome...I digress...was scratching peanuts against rocks or a wall and feeding chipmunks out of your hand. Mom always had a couple bags of peanuts and they were gone fairly fast. Thrills and a sense of attachment to these gentle creatures........................
Fast forward 50 years....chipmunks are a pain in the ass at the Lake. With all of the bird feeders, seeds are a natural attraction, like peanuts. Callie and Rory are trained to climb, chase and hunt them down and get rewards for kills...kinda like the markers of "kills" on WWII planes, but they eat their markers...TREATS (from the store, not chipmunks)!!!!
If there is a wounded one, old Brodie, who is as fast as a sloth it always there for the final kill. The others don't have the heart, but he thinks they are fluff toys..
Suffice it to say, we have not had a problem with chipmunk infestation at the cottage in years.
Saturday, December 12, 2015
People we cross in our lives...
So often, we take lightly the people whom we help and whom we embrace as friends during our lives and careers............
Today, Kris and I were reflecting on people who made an impression on our lives and also made a mark in history...of course, Merle J Jensen was first, Harold West and others...then we went to others, unbeknownst at the time, were heroes on a magnificent level, but to me, they were co workers and customers..................
Hal..in my early days at the bank was a Marketing "guy" that I had taken out on numerous calls...until one bank party when the topic came around to baseball and I was talking up Chicago White Sox..only to find the below as the evening wore on.................................................
Harold "Prince Hal" Newhouser (May 20, 1921 – November 10, 1998) was an American former professional baseball player. In Major League Baseball (MLB), he pitched 17 seasons on the Detroit Tigers and Cleveland Indians, from 1939 through 1955. Newhouser was an All-Star for six seasons,[a] and was considered to be the most dominating pitcher of the World War II era of baseball, winning a pitcher's triple crown for the Tigers in 1945.
After his retirement from baseball, Newhouser was away from baseball for 20 years while he served as a bank vice president. He later worked as a scout for several MLB teams. While scouting for the Houston Astros, he was angered when the team did not listen to his recommendation to draft Derek Jeter and instead picked Phil Nevin. He quit shortly after. Newhouser was inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame in 1992. He died several years later in a Michigan hospital.
Then...I had to reflect on the old customer who I had at my desk may times as a Manager of the Keego Harbor Office..... Dr. Furlong, as far as I knew, was a retired pediatrician....when Marylee and I we planning to go to Europe, he asked where and if we were going to France...of course...
Months later, one of my staff said they thought he did something important since a building was names in his honor in Pontiac.....
At this point of life, I look back at the people who I have crossed paths and feel I posted a Plus in their lives.....in the case of the above...I am overwhelmed that I crossed paths with GODS...
Harold Arthur Furlong (August 1, 1895—July 27, 1987) was a United States Army First Lieutenant and a recipient of the United States military's highest decoration, the Medal of Honor, for his actions in France during World War I.[1] After earning the Medal of Honor, he joined the Michigan National Guard, retiring in May 1946.[2]
Today, Kris and I were reflecting on people who made an impression on our lives and also made a mark in history...of course, Merle J Jensen was first, Harold West and others...then we went to others, unbeknownst at the time, were heroes on a magnificent level, but to me, they were co workers and customers..................
Hal..in my early days at the bank was a Marketing "guy" that I had taken out on numerous calls...until one bank party when the topic came around to baseball and I was talking up Chicago White Sox..only to find the below as the evening wore on.................................................
Harold "Prince Hal" Newhouser (May 20, 1921 – November 10, 1998) was an American former professional baseball player. In Major League Baseball (MLB), he pitched 17 seasons on the Detroit Tigers and Cleveland Indians, from 1939 through 1955. Newhouser was an All-Star for six seasons,[a] and was considered to be the most dominating pitcher of the World War II era of baseball, winning a pitcher's triple crown for the Tigers in 1945.
After his retirement from baseball, Newhouser was away from baseball for 20 years while he served as a bank vice president. He later worked as a scout for several MLB teams. While scouting for the Houston Astros, he was angered when the team did not listen to his recommendation to draft Derek Jeter and instead picked Phil Nevin. He quit shortly after. Newhouser was inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame in 1992. He died several years later in a Michigan hospital.
Then...I had to reflect on the old customer who I had at my desk may times as a Manager of the Keego Harbor Office..... Dr. Furlong, as far as I knew, was a retired pediatrician....when Marylee and I we planning to go to Europe, he asked where and if we were going to France...of course...
Months later, one of my staff said they thought he did something important since a building was names in his honor in Pontiac.....
At this point of life, I look back at the people who I have crossed paths and feel I posted a Plus in their lives.....in the case of the above...I am overwhelmed that I crossed paths with GODS...
Harold A. Furlong
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
| Harold Arthur Furlong | |
|---|---|
Medal of Honor
| |
| Born | August 1, 1895 Pontiac, Michigan |
| Died | July 27, 1987 (aged 91) |
| Place of burial | Oak Hill Cemetery, Pontiac, Michigan |
| Allegiance |  United States of America |
| Service/branch |  United States Army |
| Rank | Colonel |
| Unit | 353d Infantry Regiment, 89th Division |
| Battles/wars | World War I |
| Awards |  Medal of Honor |
Medal of Honor citation[edit]
Rank and organization: First Lieutenant, U.S. Army, 353d Infantry, 89th Division. Place and date: Near Bantheville, France, 1 November 1918. Entered service at: Detroit, Mich. Birth: Pontiac, Mich. G.O. No.: 16, W.D., 1919:Citation: Immediately after the opening of the attack in the Bois-de-Bantheville, when his company was held up by severe machinegun fire from the front, which killed his company commander and several soldiers, 1st. Lt. Furlong moved out in advance of the line with great courage and coolness, crossing an open space several hundred yards wide. Taking up a position behind the line of the machineguns, he closed in on them, one at a time, killing a number of the enemy with his rifle, putting 4 machinegun nests out of action, and driving 20 German prisoners into our lines.[1]
Saturday, January 10, 2015
Sound Of Music-1970
As I listen to the ""Goatherd" song from Sound of Music, I cannot but feign off to my great Aunts in Minneapolis.
We went to see the movie Sound Of Music in Minneapolis in anticipation of our forthcoming summer trip to Europe in 1970.
Upon our tour, Salzburg held a great import for them. Auntie Mae and Nell were overwhelmed by the richness of Austrian countryside, but moreover by the movie and the ability to "walk and see" the poignant points of that movie.
To this day, and the multiple trips to Salzburg I have made, I cannot fail to smile at Nellie and Mae's love for that city and the story that it represented.
I will always connect Salzburg to Auntie Nell and Auntie Mae..................and what better way to do it.
We went to see the movie Sound Of Music in Minneapolis in anticipation of our forthcoming summer trip to Europe in 1970.
Upon our tour, Salzburg held a great import for them. Auntie Mae and Nell were overwhelmed by the richness of Austrian countryside, but moreover by the movie and the ability to "walk and see" the poignant points of that movie.
To this day, and the multiple trips to Salzburg I have made, I cannot fail to smile at Nellie and Mae's love for that city and the story that it represented.
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Arthur "Bob Bob" Jensen- A Unique Person, underestimated and the mold of future generations
Bob Bob Jensen gets little press because few really got the opportunity to know him. I was privileged.
Arthur "Bob Bob" Jensen was the mold that created the work ethic of Merle and his sense of family, hard work ethic and sense of humor.
He worked hard throughout his life. A family farm in Minnesota, Nebraska and following his daughter's dream to California, he gave up his comfort zone to become a manager for a number of apartments in Santa Monica, California and a custodian for local grade schools. Modest, humble, a gentleman under all circumstance and the best teacher of roles and life.
I was fortunate to spend time with him while they visited the family over the years. I was offered a unique experience by spending a summer with him in California to learn from the "Master."
I also enjoyed intermittent time during my collegiate years visiting with Nana in Santa Monica and being offered her insights into this unique man and her son. This was the man that taught my dad values and humanity.
To this day, I thank the "forgotten" Bob Bob for his inspiration, direction and focus on the things that are meaningful in life. Those values were carried on with his son, dad.
When we lost Bob Bob Jensen, dad and I were in Decatur, Ill, at Wabash Railroad (client) when word came. It was a quiet ride to Springfield, yet dad was sympathetic and sensitive to my relation to HIS dad and was consoling me, not v.v.
I am truly blessed to have known and experienced life with what I feel are top two of the most outstanding people who have impacted my life.
To this day, I miss both of them and view their images daily as a means of set.jpg)
ting my view of the day.
Arthur "Bob Bob" Jensen was the mold that created the work ethic of Merle and his sense of family, hard work ethic and sense of humor.
He worked hard throughout his life. A family farm in Minnesota, Nebraska and following his daughter's dream to California, he gave up his comfort zone to become a manager for a number of apartments in Santa Monica, California and a custodian for local grade schools. Modest, humble, a gentleman under all circumstance and the best teacher of roles and life.
I was fortunate to spend time with him while they visited the family over the years. I was offered a unique experience by spending a summer with him in California to learn from the "Master."
I also enjoyed intermittent time during my collegiate years visiting with Nana in Santa Monica and being offered her insights into this unique man and her son. This was the man that taught my dad values and humanity.
To this day, I thank the "forgotten" Bob Bob for his inspiration, direction and focus on the things that are meaningful in life. Those values were carried on with his son, dad.
When we lost Bob Bob Jensen, dad and I were in Decatur, Ill, at Wabash Railroad (client) when word came. It was a quiet ride to Springfield, yet dad was sympathetic and sensitive to my relation to HIS dad and was consoling me, not v.v.
I am truly blessed to have known and experienced life with what I feel are top two of the most outstanding people who have impacted my life.
To this day, I miss both of them and view their images daily as a means of set
ting my view of the day.
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