What’s Going on at The Tempest?

 I have had more than one person ask me why I’m writing fewer posts in this blog than I used to. They have pointed out that in past years I routinely churned out over 20 posts per month and lately it’s half of that. Am I running out of things to say? Am I planning on winding The Tempest down? My answer is, no and no. 

No, I have not run out of things to say. If I wanted to I could write something here every day. There is always something to say. But over the past several years I have become more selective. Part of it is the fact that this isn’t the only thing I write. Over the past decade or so I have managed to write six novels, number seven is currently in the works. That soaks up a lot of imagination and mental bandwidth. 

But I have also become less self-indulgent when it comes to this blog. In the ten years between 2013 and 2022 I was cranking out on average 250 posts a year, much of it amounted to me venting my frustration on the subject of politics. The Presidential elections of 2016 and 2020 ignited a million opinions on the internet, most of them unhinged and counterproductive. I was no exception. Once you realize that you are part of the problem you complain about, it humbles you. Since 2022 my production here has averaged 125 posts annually. Most of that is the result of me asking myself a few questions: Is this piece helpful? Is it fair? Is it kind? Is it sufficiently informed? Under those rules many of my political rants didn’t make the cut. It’s not that I no longer care about political things, it’s more like a feeling that I can’t escape—the absolute last thing this world needs is another blogpost about politics.

I am not planning on winding down The Tempest. I love this forum. I’m proud of much of the content I’ve produced, embarrassed by some of it, and grateful that so many of you keep reading. Which brings me to another concern.

It took me 13 years to reach one million views in this space. It only took the last 12 months to reach two million. I don’t believe any of it. I have a growing suspicion that the internet has more bots than people. Especially over the past two or three years, the readership numbers here have exploded beyond believability. There is an environment of algorithmic bullshit that pervades the internet. The false and the fake are close cousins. I look at the numbers here and wonder, who the heck are these people in Singapore who read The Tempest? I have no idea but I am 100% convinced that they are not flesh and blood human beings. This knowledge leaves me cold and frustrated.

But what I do publish in this space are the things I truly want to write about…my family, my dog, my grandson, things that I think are funny and fun about being a 68 year old man. 

Birthday Week Thoughts…

 Second birthday party for Silas is in the books. The Toddler Era has officially begun. The party was attended by the Dunnevant side of his family along with Jon’s sister, her husband and two adorable kids who came down from Maryland. A good time was had by all. It is safe to say that Lolli and Pops are birthdayed out but delighted that we got to experience such a milestone. 

In the middle of the festivities yesterday the thought occurred to me that this little boy will have no excuse for failure in this world. He has two parents who love him and each other. He is surrounded by loving family on every side who adore him. He has a community of dear friends and a church family in Columbia who have his back, including one particular family who would move heaven and hell for him—I’m looking at you, Wolfers. Of course none of these things guarantee a great life. The world can be a brutal place, enemies of peace and virtue are everywhere. But being blessed with such an array of people who love you cannot be underestimated. Much is made of the concept of privilege these days, most of the time the word is slung around as a pejorative. I am proud of this little boy’s privilege. It has been hard won, this supportive foundation he stands on. Luck had nothing to do with it. 

At the same time, I think about the thousands of children out there the same age as Silas who have been abandoned by the world, parents succumbed to addiction, extended family eviscerated by divorce and neglect. Through no fault of their own those children—created in the image of God just like Silas—will struggle to find their way. Some will. Many will not. The thought breaks my heart.

So, I am grateful for everyone who celebrated this first birthday with us. Everyone of you are a blessing beyond measure.

Lucy’s Last Trip to Maine

 Two weeks left before we leave for Maine. The 100 degree heat is a dead giveaway that the time is near. We have a thousand loose ends to tie up before we leave, but it’s always that way whenever you go somewhere for six weeks. But this year there will be some extra room in the car, the place that has always been occupied by Lucy and all her things. I try not to think about it because it will be disconcerting to look in the rear view mirror and not see her back there curled up in a ball sound asleep. 

This year will be a year of many firsts, our first trip without Lucy since 2015, and our first ever trip with a toddler as we introduce Silas to the lake. It is also rare when we get to have all of our kids up here at the same time, but this year that happy condition will exist for 6 days in July. Jon, Kaitlin and Silas will fly up and Patrick and Sarah will drive up with their Golden, Frisco—his first trip to the lake. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to know that at least for that one week I’ll have a dog here with us. It will take a bit of the sting out of Lucy’s absence.

We have her ashes in a lovely jar along with an impression of her paw print in a little display box. The plan is to take her ashes to the lake. We figured it to be her perfect final resting place. So in a sense this will be her last trip to Maine.

This might appear overly sentimental to some, to feel such grief over a dog’s loss months after her passing, and maybe it is. But watching Lucy’s eyes light up whenever she climbed into the back of the car when she knew we were heading to Maine was a joy like no other. Watching her dive into the water following Pam everywhere she went on her paddle board always brought a profound peace to my heart. Having her stand by my side on the dock impatiently waiting for me to catch a fish was one of the most delightful experiences I have been lucky enough to enjoy. More than any of us Maine was always Lucy’s place. So, we will take her there one final time, adding her ashes to the very special waters of Quantabacook.

Silas Has His First Birthday Party

 Young parents, along with new grandparents, are quite familiar with the books by famed children’s author Eric Carle, specifically his The Very Hungry Caterpillar series. The plot of these stories centers around a tiny caterpillar with a voracious appetite who devours everything in its path during one unrestrained binge-eating session after another. Although the specter of childhood obesity hangs over each of these books like the sword of Damocles, somehow they have become classics of children’s literature. They also happen to be among Silas’ favorite books and became the theme of his first birthday party. Lolli spent the past month scouring the interwebs for all things caterpillar. The results are displayed in the pictures which accompany this post.

The amount of planning and labor that went into this party are off the charts. But a child only has a first birthday one time so you’ve got to make it count. This one was in Columbia and was attended by all of his home town buddies and their parents. The kids had a blast. Their parents had a blast. There were homemade cupcakes, an ice cream bar and a smash cake. Silas picked at the smash cake, never once putting any of it in his mouth, preferring to fling the icing on the wall behind him instead. Later, when Lolli offered to feed him the cake with a fork (like civilized people do), he devoured it with great glee and enthusiasm.

By the time everyone left the party, the grownups were wiped out. The four all-stars included Lolli and Pops, and Grandma & Grandpa who flew in from Ohio and were indispensable in the three days of preparation required to throw such a grand soirée.

I cannot begin to describe how wonderful it is to know that my grandson is loved by so many. He is lucky beyond knowing, and I am grateful beyond telling.

Now, we head back to Short Pump to prepare for part two of his first birthday party—the Dunnevant family version next weekend. Everybody does this right? Two birthday parties at two different locations—right?

I Win at Life!!!!

 Ok, one thing nobody tells you about retirement is that there are some things you miss from your working days. For a guy with my particular wiring its the charge of adrenaline that accompanied a big payday. Yes, I know that might sound a bit superficial, but the feeling that came over you when you landed a big case was pretty cool. It was a moment of victory in a sometimes unforgiving season of loss and it felt incredible.

Well…let me tell you about an experience I just had that was even better.

The first part of this will sound dumb to most of you because basically it is kinda dumb. Pam and I are leaving for South Carolina in the morning for my grandson’s first birthday Lalapalooza and it just so happens that both of our key fobs for the Hyundai were on the fritz. So Pam sends me this video of some random woman giving a two minute talk about what to do when your key fob goes on the fritz which amounted to A. Replacing the battery or B. Buy a new one. I didn’t find this woman particularly helpful especially since there was not an accompanying video showing just how to replace the battery in a 2016 Hyundai key fob! So, I went straight to YouTube and dialed up a helpful video of some guy with a southern drawl doing the deed. I followed his instructions to the letter and discovered that I would need two 2032 disc batteries. To my great astonishment my giant hard plastic battery organizing mini-briefcase thing had the exact two batteries I needed—something that has never once happened in my 68 years. I popped those babies in and marched myself out to the garage and pressed the appropriate buttons and was thrilled to discover that they worked!! Look, I have many talents but nobody has ever accused me of being…handy. So, this was something of a triumph.

So, that was the dump part. But this next thing that happened is the greatest thing in the world. I hear a blip from my cell phone and it’s a text that my daughter sent to Pam and me. She said:

“I’m just gonna leave this little clip right here…”

I clicked on the video and it was Silas getting ready for bed. His mom asked him, “Silas, who are you looking forward to seeing tomorrow?”

The boy immediately says, “Pop!”

I win at life.

SUMMER KICK OFF PARTY!!

 It’s easy at this moment in time to become depressed about the state of our country. If you watch the news it’s easy to conclude that we are hopelessly divided over politics, religion, race and basically everything else. But watching the news doesn’t tell you the whole story. It never has but especially now. It’s like when someone visits the United States for the first time and only goes to New York City. Yes, that’s part of America but it’s nowhere near the whole story. If you want to see the best of America, I suggest attending a—“SUMMER KICK OFF PARTY” in my neighborhood.

We got the email a week or so ago. Jinu Patel, the social committee chair of our HOA pitched it this way:

⭐🇺🇸⭐

Hello Neighbors!

This year, America celebrates a milestone — her 250th birthday! To mark the occasion, watch for festive patriotic decorations going up at the neighborhood entrance. If you have flags or patriotic décor at home, now is the perfect time to display them and help make our neighborhood shine this summer!

The HOA would provide pizza and each neighbor was asked to bring either a side dish or a dessert depending on whether your address was an even or odd number. Oh, and there was to be a red white and blue tye-dye station set up for anyone who wanted to bring a white t-shirt, and a giant inflatable frog that the kids could run through to get wet.

All of these neighborhood social events take place right in front of my house. For one thing, our place is on a not so quiet culdesac, but more importantly we have folding tables and 16 metal chairs. The last words Pam said to me before the party started was, “Please don’t throw out your back playing with the kids like you did last time.”

It lasted around three hours or so, the street jammed with young couples, older couples and kids darting this way and that in wet bathing suits. There was Greek salad, pizza, an Indian street food station and a whole host of amazing desserts. I tried a bit of everything and it was all delicious.

We got to catch up on all the neighborhood gossip, all the latest from the kids who were off to college somewhere. There were parents there, grandparents and folks with no kids. There were  white families, black families, Indian families, native Virginians like us and transplants from all over the country.

Funny thing—Pam and I moved here when the very road we were partying on hadn’t yet been paved. We are the only people who have ever lived in our house. Some of the folks at the party have been here just a couple years. I have no earthly idea who any of these people voted for in the last election or any elections before that. I have no idea where they go to church or even if they go to church. None of that matters because…these people are my neighbors. And that friends is what it means to be an American.

Oh…and although I was sorely tempted to take a run at that sprinkler frog thing, I resisted the temptation. 

Sights, Sounds and Smells

 I can’t remember how long ago it was when I first walked down this path. Probably fifteen years ago? This is a place called Owl’s Head, Maine. It looks like a thousand other hiking paths in Maine that invite you in, making it virtually impossible to resist. The woods in Maine are deep, dark and mysterious. For someone who writes and tells stories like me, this path is practically begging me to enter. You just know that there’s a story in these woods. But this is Maine, a place where you never can be sure of anything.

After maybe a couple hundred yards, the canopy of trees clears and there you are standing on a rocky beach of Penobscot Bay, a protected sanctuary of the Atlantic Ocean, a towering cliff of rocks jutting out from the wilderness. You shake your head in disbelief. This isn’t how the ocean introduces itself if you’re a southern boy from Virginia, so your first time seeing it brings wonder. How could you be in a thick forest one minute and at the ocean the next?There’s a lighthouse at the top of that cliff. From the beach it’s hidden, but it’s up there as it has been for 200 years. There’s no charge to visit this place. It is one of 65 lighthouses along the rugged coast of Maine. We visit it every year. It’s a fifty minute drive from the lake. It never changes. It always delights.

Owl’s Head Lighthouse if just one of a thousand places that beguile us in Maine, the sights sounds and smells too many to list.

But, who’s counting?