It's time to post about IT

As I write this, there's a mass shooting unfolding in San Bernardino. Just days ago, there was a mass shooting in Colorado Springs. Both of those instances are tragic. But they aren't what this post is about.

My hometown is being held together with chewing gum and twine. So, what's going on here in Chicago takes precedence over what's going on out west.

We'd all heard about "the tape." After all, the incident happened a year ago. The existence of the dashcam video was well known. We knew that, when we eventually saw it, it would show a kid being shot 16 times by a cop. BUT we also had been told that after watching the video, we'd feel conflicted. We would understand how a cop could feel threatened enough to fire. The shooting victim was a big kid, high on PCP, waving a knife threateningly.

I believed that. Because I like cops. I like firemen and the military, too. I like people who are willing to go into harm's way on my behalf.

Last week we finally saw "the tape." It only took a moment to see we'd been lied to. Multiple police cars surround a kid who is walking up the middle of the street, a knife with a 3" blade in hand. He is not waving the knife menacingly. It's at his side. He had been slashing tires, and now he's obviously trying to get away.

A cop gets out of his squad car and shoots. The kid goes down. The cop empties his gun, firing 15 more times in less than 15 seconds.

Watch it and there will be no doubt in your mind. You know you're witnessing a murder.

Each of those multiple cop cars contained two officers. None of those policemen did anything to try to stop their fellow officer or save the kid.

It is chilling.

The kid, Laquan McDonald, was not a hero. He got high, grabbed a knife and went out to destroy property for his own amusement. I'm not in favor of this behavior. But, being a civilized human being with a funtioning brain, I also realize vandalism should not be punishable by death.

The city is furious. 
•  At the police dept., for tacitly protecting the cop after he fired and not the citizen they are sworn to protect.
•  At the state's attorney who took a year to charge the cop.
•  At the mayor, who didn't release the tape antil last week, and that was because a judge ordered him to do so.

And so the city protested for three days. At City Hall, on State Street, and most famously along the Mag Mile on Black Friday. I'm proud to report that both the protesters and the police behaved as well as can be expected, far better than I thought possible. We managed to escape the destruction that plagued Baltimore and St. Louis.

The result is that the CPD is under tremendous scrutiny. Rahm Emmanuel fired the police chief and appointed a prestigious panel to examine police practices and culture. While I support this move, the timing scares me. With ISIS threatening to disrupt our shores with terrorism, I'd prefer to have an experienced police chief at the helm, and right now we don't.

And the city has a heartbreaking problem with gun violence. Chicagoans are killing other Chicagoans at a stunning pace. 22 more have been murdered since the last I posted about this on November 14.

I'm upset. We're all upset. These are troubling times in Chicago.

Day 2: What I wanted then

December 2: My 2012 Wish List

What I wanted then, I still want now: Homemade gingerbread! Men would be optimal, but I'll happily accept a gingerbread loaf or plain old round cookies.

My niece is an exceptional cook and simply refuses to make it for me. She says the kind I'll "settle" for are not the type she wants to make and she simply doesn't have time to make them the way she wants to. It also amuses her that I want them so badly. Last year she gave me ginger beer. The year before that it was a box of a gazillion little store-bought gingerbread stars. I don't recall what she did in 2013, but I'm sure this year she'll come up with yet another way to taunt me.

To play along with this challenge, click here.

Day 1: Must-See Movie

December 1: Favorite Christmas movie.

Oh, Magoo, you've done it again! Yes, it's Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol (1962).

Love, love, love this. It's funny. It's witty. It's imaginative. It's touching. It's remarkably faithful to Dickens and, remarkably, it's just an hour long.

If you have a child in your life, I highly recommend you watch this together. It's an easily accessible introduction to the Scrooge tale. And if you don't have a kid in your life, well, what the hell, enjoy it anyway.

To play along with this challenge, click here.

I'm up for the challenge

If it's good enough for Kwizgiver and Endomental, it's plenty good enough for this ol' gal.

Preoccupied by time passages

Now that I'm back at work, and The Big Project is almost wrapped up, I am able to search the internet at lightening speed for the arcane and frivolous. Today I discovered Kitten Rescue Cam, which captures shelter babies doing their thing at Kitten Rescue in Los Angeles.

They are awesome cute, no doubt about it. But they have me feeling melancholy about my old Joe. My big old tub of guts. My dear, sweet 20-year old tomcat is dying. He's in no pain now, and no major change in his condition is predicted for the time being, but the fact is, he is very old and has irreversible kidney disease.

Looking at these kittens, I feel a longing. I adopted Joey from a local shelter when he was (best guesstimate) a three-year-old. So I never saw him as a kitten. How I wish I had! I've seen him move from a young adult, lean and always eager to rough house, to a fat middle-ager who discovered the joys of sunning his big belly in afternoon light, to a sedate senior citizen who wants nothing than to curl up beside me and purr. But I never saw him as a kitten.

This is how I imagine he looked, soft and tiny and just learning about the world around him.

Joey is one of the gentlest creatures I've ever encountered. What a privilege it would have been to have seen his precious soul every day from beginning to end.

Well, that was a first ... and second

I wrote up my holiday cards last night* and found myself inscribing two of them the way I never, ever thought I would:

Enjoy your first Christmas as Grandma and Grandpa!

Because I do the cards alphabetically, the first one went to an old boyfriend. His oldest, a daughter, gave birth earlier this year to a baby girl they named Fiona. It's always made me happy that this ex and I have managed to stay in touch. He's a good and decent man and his esteem is important to me.

The second went to my old boss, Ed. His only child, a daughter whose leukemia is in remission, just had a baby boy a few weeks ago. Ed is over the moon delighted. Not only does he love being a grandpa, he's thrilled that his daughter is healthy. So scribbling that mention of "Grandpa" on the card made me especially happy.

But here's the thing: My friends are becoming grandparents!

Oh well, as Petula Clark used to sing (and I am certainly old enough to quote Petula Clark), "It's a sign of the times."

*After all, Hanukkah begins Sunday

It was a crappy thing to say, I suppose

... but I'm not sorry.

"Well, then, it's hard to feel sorry for you."

My oldest friend was telling me about her problems with the IRS. A couple years ago, she took a withdrawal from an IRA and, thinking it was just a money market account and not a retirement account, she didn't report the penalties that you're assessed for touching those tax-deferred funds early. She now has to pay the IRS $50/month until, like, the end of time.


She feels like a victim in this.

Her excuse? The bank where she had the IRA didn't send her the proper year-end forms to attach to her return. This surprises me, but OK. It stands to reason that every now and then, mistakes will be made.

Then she said, " ... and the IRS said I ignored the first two notices, so I guess I'm not getting my mail."

Oh. Then it's likely the bank did send her the proper forms. I mean, if she's not getting notices from the IRS, then why should she be receiving forms from the bank? What's the problem?

She still doesn't have her name on her mailbox! She has lived out there for five fucking years, and her mailbox just has the apartment number, not her name. So if you don't include her apartment number, she doesn't get her mail.

We talked about this five years ago. We've talked about it since, when she hasn't received cards or packages I've sent, and I include the apartment number. (She and her daughter have the unfortunate, ongoing habit of throwing one anothers mail onto the desk and no one sorts or checks it for weeks.)

I asked her why she still hasn't gotten around to it.

"It's an irrational fear." She thinks if someone sees her last name on the box, along with her apartment no., they'll know exactly where she -- an unmarried woman -- lives.

"Who are you afraid of?" I thought maybe one of the guys she met through online dating was bothering her.

There isn't anyone in particular. It could just be a person wandering up the street. She's afraid that putting her name on the box will make her a victim of crime.

I pointed out that the pizza delivery guy, the grocery delivery guy, the guy from the laundry service she used to employ ... they all know her name and apartment number. Because she gave it to them over the phone or online.

"Like I said, it's an irrational fear. But I'm not putting my name on the box."

So, said I, you're demonstrably not receiving your mail, and yet you refuse to put your name on the box?

"Well, then, it's hard to feel sorry for you." 

I left out that she 1) "saved" money by unwisely doing her own taxes for a year where her finances were complicated by more than one job and state/federal assistance and 2) is an adult who votes and (usually) pays taxes and yet forgets which of her accounts are IRAs and which aren't. She's always broke, she's no heiress. She doesn't have that many accounts.

I'll post more about her battle with depression later. There's much about her situation that tugs at my heart.

But not this.

I think she goes all "woe is me" sometimes and uses her biochemical imbalance to excuse laziness or bad choices.

I want to help her. And I think the way I can help her is by being straight with her.

But it's hard to know if I'm right. I'm not a shrink. I'm just a friend who loves her and is doing the best I can.

It's a gray cat thing

Here's Joey, snoozing away in his favorite spot. There's Connie, squeezing in as close to him as she can get.

This makes me so happy. First of all, Joey is hanging out with us. If he was feeling sick, he'd be off hiding somewhere.

Second, Connie obviously likes Joe just fine. For close to 15 years, Joey lived with Charlotte, my diva girlcat. Charlotte was adorable to me, my majordomo. But Charlotte hated, hated, hated Joey. She just couldn't abide the cut of his jib. Every morning, every evening, day in, day out, she'd slap his head and steal his food. He accepted this with a grave grace, as though being mistreated by Miss Thing was just his destiny.

I know Joey doesn't have a lot of time left. But I'm glad that he gets to spend it with Connie, who enjoys his company. He deserves that.

Sunday Stealing

Consider Yourself Meme

1) Of the various cultures, ethnicities or nationalities you belong to, which most strongly do you consider yourself? I'm an American.

2) Is there a culture you cannot claim heritage from but which you feel quite close to? I'm only 12% Irish (vs. 88% German) but I feel more Irish. I like beer. I like prose. I like green. On the other hand, I'm not crazy about the two world wars my German heritage ties me to.

3) What's one language you wish you knew fluently? Spanish

4) If you could move anywhere in the world and be guaranteed a job, etc., where would you go? England or Canada. I'm not at all eager to leave where I'm at, so I'd want to be where I could get home easily.

5) If you had a time machine, and could witness any one event without altering or disturbing it, what would you want to see? I'd like to attend the Woolton Parish Church Garden Fete in Liverpool. Some guy named Lennon met and found himself impressed by a younger kid named McCartney.


6) Have problems sleeping? Not lately.

7) Are you free with your feelings? My emotions overcome me and splish splash all over the place.

8) What is the one outfit/piece of clothing/accessory you own that makes you feel incredibly good whenever you wear it? Why? This little blue sweater. First of all, it looks good with nearly everything I own. Secondly, I got it at 80% off at Macy's. How can you not feel good about such a deal?


 9) What do you do to make yourself feel better when you're in a funk? I respond well to music. It helps to take a shower and shampoo away the sad residue as I sing with radio.

10) Has anyone ever surprised you in a way that let you know you were special? How? Yes. On Thanksgiving, my friend John gave us tickets to all three days of the 2016 Cubs Convention. He's always said some of his happiest summer days have included me and the Cubs. But that's a couple of hours in the stands, drinking beer and enjoying the Wrigley Field experience. I'm very touched that he wants to spend three days of geeky fandom with me.

11) When you are having a "good day," how do you spread the happiness to others? I try to be expansive and positive.

12) What is one thing that puts you in a bad mood, no matter how good you were previously feeling? Bigotry. I cannot be around homophobes or racists or those who discriminate against others based on religion.

13) Would you rather live in a world with or without technology such as computers, cars, airplanes, bombs? I've fantasized about this often. The mid-19th century holds a strong attraction to me. I'd like to give living like that a try if I could use that time machine you mentioned earlier.

14) If you had to live without either heating in your house or air conditioning, which one would you keep? This is a tough one, since as we learned here in Chicago during the 1995 heat wave, hot weather can be fatal, too. Plus, you can always add another blanket or sweater but you can only get so naked. Still, I'll keep the heat.

15) If you had to own five dogs, what kind would you get? Now this one is easy: they'd all be shelter rescues.

Oh, what a day we had!

Joey and I had to be at the vet by 8:40 this morning, which means I woke up to an alarm clock for the first time in more than a week. I didn't like it. Neither did Joe.

I knew we were going in for an enema. I understood what this meant for Joey, but not for me. I thought I'd sit in the waiting room for a bit while the unspeakable was done to my cat. I didn't expect it to take two hours, and I didn't know they'd send me home. So I had to say goodbye to my old boy and walk home. I had brunch and then walked back to the vet, where I picked him up and had a cab bring us back home.

We were done by noon.

I can't recall the last time I had so many conversations about poop. Maybe when I was in the hospital in 2011, and they wouldn't let me go home until I "eliminated." At any rate, here's what's what:

•  Joey is suffering from chronic kidney disease (stage 3). This is not good. But Joey is so old that things are going to go wrong. If he was a person, he'd be over 90, and all bodies (feline or human) break down with time.

•  One of the symptoms of failing kidneys in cats is constipation. Joey still has a healthy appetite, which is good, but what goes in is not coming out.

•  Now he's, as the vet tech told me, "clean as a whistle" and want to keep him that way. So twice a day he'll get a pinch of Miralax.

•  He's also on a prescription medication called Benazepril, which will help regulate his high blood pressure and kidney function. He's much better about taking this than I expected.

I know this disease is progressive and incurable. I know that, sooner rather than later, I'm going to have to make the heartbreaking decision to euthanize my old gray and white buddy.

But I also know that right now, he is happy. He feels better than he did this morning. He loves sitting here with me and he endures attention from Connie.

We're going to see 2016 in together. That much I know. And right now, that feels like a gift.

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Black is Black
 
1) Black is this week's signature color because Friday, November 27, was "Black Friday," when retailers cut their prices and consumers flock to the stores. Did you score any "Black Friday" bargains? I'm avoiding retail on Black Friday.

2) WalMart, Best Buy, Toys R Us and Target have all heavily advertised their "Black Friday" sales. If you could have a $50 gift card to one of those stores, which would choose? What would you spend the $50 on? Target, and I'd look at blouses and sweaters. Maybe new navy slacks ...

3) Star Wars items are predicted to be big sellers this Black Friday. Are you a big sci-fi fan? Are there any sci-fi fans on your holiday gift list? I simply don't get sci-fi, but my Cousin Rose is a fan. I got her a DVD of the old Quantum Leap TV series. That's time travel. Does it count as sci-fi?

4) Feasting and football are also popular Thanksgiving weekend pastimes. Do your Thursday-Sunday plans include pigging out or watching a game? I pigged out on Thanksgiving. So much so, I feel like I may never eat again.

5) At Thanksgiving dinners, Crazy Sam's homemade gravy is always a hit. (Probably because she's so generous with the cognac, which gives the gravy a nutty taste.) Do you have a signature dish? Nope

6) What did you give thanks for on Thanksgiving 2015? That my cat Joey doesn't seem to hurt. If you're not a pet person, you may not understand my dilemma. He's 20, which is very old for a cat (the equivalent of 90+ in a human). As I write this on Friday, I'm waiting for the vet to call with the results of his bloodwork. I'm trying to prepare myself for bad news. But here's the thing -- he's sitting here beside me. He still purrs. He still perks up at the chance to swat at a shoelace. Yes, he's losing weight at an alarming rate and I know there's something wrong, but he wouldn't be this social if he hurt. I feel a great responsibility to protect this loving, gentle creature from pain. So I'm thankful that my Joey isn't hurting.

THIS JUST IN: Joey is suffering from kidney disease. These results aren't good, but they aren't as bad as we feared. It's treatable, so my good old boy will be with me for at least a little while to come.

7) Monday is Cyber Monday, when shoppers can save big online. Do you shop confidently over the Internet, or do you worry about security breaches and identity theft? I try to be smart, but in this world I'm not sure there's all that much any of us individually can do about it.
 
8) This week's featured band, Los Bravos, was international. Their members came from both Germany and Spain. If you could travel to any foreign country in the world, which would you choose? England

9) The band's name, Los Bravos, can be translated to mean, "The Brave." Do you consider yourself gutsy? I don't know if I'm brave or gutsy, but I know I'm strong. I can take what comes.

Happy birthday to me, part 4

I cannot believe the gift I got from John! He bought us passes for all three days of the 2016 Cubs Convention! It's sold out already, so I don't know when he ordered them, but of course I'm beyond thrilled. I'll get to meet Joe Maddon!

He gave me my gift after our Thanksgiving meal at American Craft Kitchen. It was a traditional holiday buffet -- I had turkey, potatoes, green bean casserole, cranberries and a roll* -- for just $35, including tip.

That also included pumpkin pie and people watching. Since ACK is in the downtown Hyatt there were a lot of tourists, in Chicago for the weekend. John, Gregory and I wondered what the visitors to our city thought about the Laquan McDonald controversy. So far, the protests have been peaceful (and, in my opinion, MORE than justified) and we have managed to avoid the ugliness that St. Louis and Baltimore suffered through.

And the Bears were playing the Packers, so that was on the wall of TV screens. Not many people were watching, but those that were, were transfixed. One man, especially, sat in the corner staring at the game. We wondered if he had family in a hotel room upstairs, or if he was all by himself on this Thanksgiving, in a strange city, with a plate of turkey and Jay Cutler to occupy him.

The food was delicious, the conversation was stimulating, the vibe was low key, and I got a way-cool birthday present! So all was good.

*Though not as good my Grandma's rolls. I miss them, and her, yesterday. She's been gone nearly 20 years now, and yesterday I missed her. Weird, huh?

To you and yours from me and Doris

Happy Thanksgiving!

He's not feeling well

Joey and I went to the vet today. He hates leaving the house and, now that he's so arthritic, hates being handled by strange hands.

We discovered that his urine is too pale and watery. This could mean many things: urinary tract infection, a liver ailment, severe anemia ... or something else entirely. I won't know until the blood tests come back on Friday.

I am concerned about him. He seems frail, and my big old tub of guts was never frail before. I'm afraid the end may be near for my Joe.

The vet told me she doesn't think he's in any discomfort right now, and that's important to me. He's very tired, his routine has been disrupted, his hind quarters hurt from the arthritis and his vision is clouded. But he doesn't hurt. So far, his maladies are just part and parcel of being a senior citizen.

But I'm getting a bad vibe from that blood work. I hope I'm wrong. He's a good boy and a wonderful companion and a big-hearted, generous spirit and I want to give him the life he deserves for as long as possible.

Happy birthday to me, part 3

When I got home, there was a big Amazon box waiting for me. Inside was a plush throw decorated with the various official Cubbie logos. It's a warm, soft gift from my friend Mindy and her husband.

Happy birthday to me, part 2

I spent my birthday in Vegas again this year. It was a fine time.

This horned lizard greets you when you deplane in McCarran's American Airlines terminal. It was nice to be reminded that I was in the desert, for as I arrived in Las Vegas, a record snow was beginning to fall in Chicago. It made getting away just that much nicer.

We stayed at the Excalibur, and it was fine. Certainly not great, but not bad at all, either. As soon as we arrived, a pair of scantily clad men shanghai'd us for a photo op. So the good, clean, dirty fun began before we even checked into the room. I'm going to enjoy showing my copy of the photo around, but today I checked my Citicard bill and discovered I paid $25/ea. for those silly things. I'd regret it, except, well, that's Vegas.

Saturday, my friend slept in. She has trouble moving in the mornings because of all the meds she takes for her depression. So I went down to the all-you-can-eat buffet and pigged out. Eggs, bacon, ambrosia fruit salad, cinnamon rolls. When I was filled to the gills I returned to the room and she was getting ready to move.

She gave me my birthday present -- a signed copy of Dick Cavett's book Brief Encounters and an NCIS tshirt -- and then we went and wandered about The Strip. We especially liked New York, New York. There's an enormous Hershey's store in the lobby. We have one in Chicago, and I never go. But I'm on vacation, so here I am, wandering around agape like the perfect little tourist. I bought myself a pair of Hershey's Kisses earrings. Upon our exit we stopped at The Chocolate Bar and toasted my birthday. This is a chocolate-coconut martini, garnished with an Almond Joy.

Then we went back to the room and dressed for dinner and Diana. We got to The Venetian in plenty of time to pick up our tickets and have dinner. The Venetian has many restaurants to choose from and we settled on The Grand Lux Cafe. Then we went to see The Supreme Miss Ross.

It was virtually the same show I saw last year in Chicago, which is fine with me. I want to hear her sing the hits. She was in wonderful voice and wonderful wardrobe (five costume changes).  I was delighted, but when I kept looking over at my friend, she was just staring ahead. I wish she got more joy out of these things! She told me she was having fun, and I guess I believe her. After all, everyone of our generation knows and loves all
these songs. "Stop in the Name of Love," "Ain't No Mountain High Enough," "You Can't Hurry Love," "Touch Me in the Morning," etc., etc.

Sunday we went to the spa at the Excalibur. She had a massage while I had a facial, and then we settled into the jacuzzi to relax and blab. It was delightful. I think this was the most fun she had.

Then we went downtown to The Mob Museum. I learned a lot -- for example, the phrase "mug shot" comes from the way New York thugs used to smirk or "mug" at the camera as they were booked, and some mob endeavors were known as "rackets" because they were designed to disrupt (or make a big noise) the status quo. The building that houses The Mob Museum was once the Federal Courtroom where some of the Kefauver hearings were held. George Raft not only played a mobster in the movies, he had real-life mob connections. In the mid-1930s, Screen Actors Guild president James Cagney (yes, "Yankee Doodle" himself) resisted letting the mob infiltrate industry union. The Mafia was going to assassinate Cagney until George Raft intervened on his behalf. (Gulp!)

The exhibit that gave me pause was this one. In Chicagoland, it still casts a massive shadow. This is the wall from that Clark Street garage where 7 men met their end on St. Valentine's Day. The city did nothing to preserve this -- Al Capone is not Chicago's favorite son. Just before the building was demolished, some Canadian numbered the bricks and rebuilt the wall for his nightclub. When the wall became available again, this museum bought them and rebuilt it again in Vegas.

Compare and Contrast Challenge

The highly imaginative young Angel the Alien flattered me with this compare/contrast challenge. (She writes really well, too. If you haven't check out her blog yet, get on over there an give yourself a treat.)

I've decided to Compare and Contrast myself with Kwizgiver.

First, we compare

Kwizgiver and I both:

Kwizgiver

•  Use nom de blogs, and we both represent ourselves with illustrations
•  Are single
•  Enjoy staying in hotels
•  Took over Bud's memes (Sunday Stealing for her, Saturday 9 for me)
•  Struggle with clutter

Then, we contrast:

•  She devours books at a much faster pace than I do

•  She has a better relationship with her sisters than I do

•  I'm a cat lady and she's a dog person

•  I'm a City Mouse and she's a Country Mouse

•  She loves to take off behind the wheel, and I think driving would be a massive hassle

•  She's a little bit country, and I'm a little bit rock and roll*

*Not really. I just always wanted to say that.

FlutistPride's Compare and Contrast Challenge Rules:

• Do not compare and contrast yourself with yourself. That defeats the purpose of this challenge.
• You are not limited in your amount of comparing and contrasting, but please keep your post coherent and readable.
• Link to the blogger you intend to take the compare and contrast challenge.
• The challenged blogger must be informed via comment section or E-mail order to be obligated to post. If they explicitly decline, they are no longer obligated to participate.
• Do not vex anyone who declines.
• The Compare and Contrast Challenge is not intended to be demeaning to any party. Do not use belittling remarks, even if they are jokes. Save your viewers the headache of trying to read your intentions through a screen.
• There is no particular timeframe the challenge should take place in.
• Let the other blogger know you compared and contrasted yourself to them. Invite this person to challenge others.
• Tag your post Compare and Contrast Challenge if you are participating or challenging someone else.
• No one has to challenge you in order to participate.

What is it about this time of year?

I have one of these in my closet

Last year, as I was preparing to go to Vegas to celebrate my birthday, Joey was sick and my
bedframe broke.

This year, as I prepare to go to Vegas to celebrate my birthday, I have to get my thermostat/zone valve* fixed. Oh yeah, and I got an email from American Airlines telling me to make sure I give it two hours to get through security tomorrow. Obviously because of Paris/ISIS. I always give it two hours anyway, but it makes me nauseous with fear to think about the reason.

*Whatever the fuck that is

Happy Birthday to Me, Part 1

Packages for me! Packages for me! My birthday is coming, and the USPS delivered gifties from Florida.

My aunt/Godmother sent me a big box of tea. She does this every year, and I appreciate it. I love her thoughtfulness, I love that I get to try fragrances and flavors I wouldn't otherwise, and I love that the ones I don't like (the heavy, dark blends) will brighten someone's day at the food pantry. She also threw in some catnip toys and balls for her "Godkitties."

My cousin Rose sent me the 2016 NCIS calendar. This makes me smile because, unbeknownst to her, I got her an NCIS mug for Christmas! It also pleased me because NCIS is what we bond over. So little makes her happy ... at least when we're together ... that it makes me happy that we have this.

I feel very loved, even though it's from a distance.

THREE 4 THREE

On Wednesday, Jake Arrieta was named the very best pitcher in the National League.

First Kris Bryant won Rookie of the Year, then Joe Maddon won Manager of the Year, and now Jake. That's a sweep of all the major MLB awards.

I always love the Cubs. Happy to see the rest of the country is leaping onto the bandwagon and praising a young team that was so unexpectedly good, clicked so well, and had such charisma.

WWW.WEDNESDAY

WWW is back! To participate, and to see how others responded, click here.

1. What are you currently reading? Talk Show by Dick Cavett. This collection of essays covers the waterfront -- politics, show business, pop culture and grammar. Reading it is like having Cavett's voice in your head. Since he's so bright and so funny, that's a good thing. There are times when he's a bit too smug, a little too in love with himself, but I forgive it because I've always kinda had a crush on him.

2. What did you just finish reading? The Chocolate Cat Caper by JoAnna Carl. A massively silly book. A newly divorced big city girl returns to the sleepy little Michigan resort town where she spent her girlhood summers, and people start dying. The only thing that would have made the murderer easier to spot would be wearing a cap that said, "VILLAIN." And if you can't tell into whose arms the heroine will fall, you've never read a mystery or watched a Lifetime movie.

3. What will you read next? Dunno.

And they all lived happily ever after

Back in 2011, I was certain my friend Ed's life was going to be full of heartbreak. Boy, oh, boy, was I wrong! And boy, oh, boy, am I glad!

•  His daughter, then 24, had just finished chemotherapy and was happy, though exhausted, because she was told her leukemia was in remission. Instead of cause for celebration, this made her father very sad because his determined, newly wed daughter was now insisting on a bone marrow transplant.

•  She'd been warned that that the transplant would likely, shorten her life. But she insisted because she wanted a baby. A new bride in 2011, she'd had her eggs harvested before her last round of chemo. Now the bone marrow transplant would be necessary if she wanted to conceive and carry her baby to term.

•  It took a long time for her to find a suitable donor. Ed found himself praying that she never did find one. He wants his daughter to lead a long life, but she exasperates him with her willingness to trade years for a baby with her husband.

•  After the marrow transplant, the IVF travails began. Again, Ed found himself hoping it didn't work. It's not uncommon for pregnancy to bring the leukemia out of remission.

•  Finally, this year, his daughter found out she was pregnant. As soon as she told him she was carrying a boy, Ed was torn. As much as he wants his daughter to be healthy and robust for as long as possible, he felt a bond with his unborn grandson. He remembered his daughter's warm relationship with his own father, and he wanted to experience that. He longed to extend that family legacy. He wanted to hold his grandchild.

•  This week, Baby Henry was born. His daughter, while not completely out of the woods, is very healthy right now.

I know there are religions that dictate that babies be "begotten, not made." But I think God must have wanted Henry to join us very badly.

And as I post this, an old chestnut keeps running through my head: "... nothing but blue skies from now on ..." Ed and his wife deserve a winter of nothing but baby blue skies!