Brain Zapping May Boost Memory!

It was an ordinary day.  Just got finished reading a story in my Saturday Evening Post titled "Brain Zapping May Boost Memory" which was written by Douglas Zipes, M.D.  Story goes like this:  My wife and I frequently have difficulty recalling names and recent events.  Often, the conversation goes..."What was the name of the guy we met at the mall?" ... "What was the restaurant we ate at yesterday?" ...  "What were we watching on TV last night?"  Yet, we can easily remember the name of our third-grade teacher or Grannie's phone number when we were eight years old.  I still remember where to send four Cheerios box tops and 25 cents to receive the whistling ring that saved the life of 1950s radio cowboy star Tom Mix when he whistled for his horse, Tony: Tom Mix, Box 808, St. Louis, Missouri.  Forgetting the name of someone you just met, misplacing keys, or having trouble remembering directions once in a while -- these memory slips can happen at any age.  As we get older, though, we may wonder whether these slips signal a more serious problem, such as dementia and Alzheimer's disease.  Forgetfullness is often associated with a decline in cognition, which can have a serious impact on a person's ability to conduct activities of daily living, such as interacting with friends and colleagues, managing medications, making financial decisions, scheduling activities, and navigating the complexities of daily life.  As the global population continues to age, the prevalence of cognitive decline and dementia is expected to rise, which presents significant challenges for healthcare systems, economies, and societies worldwide, and exerts considerable personal, social, and economic costs on individual and families.  Developing and providing innovative, safe, and effective therapies and treatments for our aging population is a pressing need.  Neuroscience has made substantial progress identifying the brain circuits and networks that underpin learning and memory. New research shows that rhythmic activity in the brain may be key to storing memories.  Reinforcing those activities artificially may protect or even enhance memory for older adults in an inexpensive and sustainable way.  In one recent story, 150 people (ages 65-88) received noninvasive electrical brain stimulation for 20 minutes over four consecutive days, while researchers read to them a list of words.  They then tested participants' immediate recall of the words, as well as their memory of them one month later. The stimulation produced boosts in recalling the words two to four days later, as well as one month later.  The scientists found that applying extremely weak high-frequency electrical current safely and non invasively to the front part of the brain selectively improved long-term memory without changing short-term memory, while applying the same kind of specialized alternating current farther back in the brain at a low frequency selectively improved short-term memory without changing long-term memory.  Thus, transcranial (across the skull) stimulation, depending on its location and frequency, could improve either short- or long-term memory because of the brain's ability to re-form and develop new neural connections throughout an individual's life.  Before we all run to the hardware story for wires and generators to stimulate our brains, more extensive controlled trials are needed to replicate these results in larger an diverse populations and evaluate the long-term effects and safety.  More research will also help determine the optimal parameters for stimulation to endure the longest lasting and most substantial benefits.  However, these preliminary results offer hope to memory-impaired older populations worldwide.  Oh yeah, I remember now -- we were watching Gregory Peck in "To Kill a Mockingbird" after we ate a delicious dinner at My Neighbor's Grill last night.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "In Flight Humor" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Occasionally, airline attendants make an effort to make the "inflight safety lecture" and other announcements a bit more entertaining.  Here are some real examples that have been heard or reported.  "Your seat cushions can be used for flotation, and in the event of an emergency water landing, please take them, with our compliments."  Pilot:  "Folks, we have reached our cruising altitude now, so I am going to switch the seat belt sign off.  Feel free to move about as you wish, but please stay inside the plane till we land.  It's a bit cold outside, plus, if you were on the wings, it affects the flight pattern."  After landing, "Thank you for flying Delta Business Express.  We hope you enjoyed giving us the business as much as we enjoyed taking you for a ride."  On a Southwest flight, the pilot said, "We've reached our cursing altitude now, and I'm turning off the seat belt sign.  I'm switching to autopilot, too, so I can come back there and visit with all of you for the rest of the flight."  As a plane landed and was coming to a stop at Washington National, a lone voice came over the loudspeaker, "Whoa, big fella.  WHOA!"  "Should the cabin lose pressure, oxygen masks will drop from the overhead area.   Please place the bag over your own mouth and nose before assisting children and or adults acting like children."  "As you exit the plane, please make sure to gather all of your belongings.  Anything left behind will be distributed evenly among the flight attendants.  Please do not leave children or spouses."  From the pilot during his welcome message, "We are pleased to have some of the best flight attendants in the industry.  Unfortunately, none of them are on this flight."  On an American Airlines flight into Amarillo, Texas on a particularly windy and bumpy day and an extremely hard landing, the flight attendant announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Amarillo.  Please remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened while the captain taxis what's left of our airplane to the gate."  Another flight attendant's comment on a less-than-perfect landing, "We ask you to please remain seated as Captain Kangaroo bounces us to the terminal."  From a southwest Airlines employee:  "Welcome aboard Southwest Flight #### to YYY.  To operate your seat belt, insert the metal tab into the buckle, and pull tight.  It works just like every other seat belt, but if you don't know how to operate one, you probably shouldn't be out in public unsupervised."  "Weather at our destination is 50 degrees with some broken clouds, but they'll try to have them fixed before we arrive.  Thank You, and remember, nobody loves you, or your money, more than Southwest Airlines."  An airline pilot wrote that on a particular flight he had hammered his ship onto the runway really hard.  The airline had a policy which required the first officer to stand at the door while the passengers exited, smile, and give them a "Thanks for flying XYZ airline."  He said that in light of his bad landing, he had a hard time looking the passengers in th eye, thinking that someone would have a smart comment.  Finally, everyone had gotten off except a little, old lady walking with a cane.  She said, "Sonny, mind if I ask you a question?"  "Why no, ma'am," said the pilot. "what is it?"  The little old lady said, "Did we land or were we shot down?"  After a real crusher of a landing in Phoenix, the flight attendant came on with, "Ladies and gentlemen, please remain in your sets until Captain Crash and the crew have brought the aircraft to a screeching halt up against the gate.  And, once the tire smoke has cleared and the warning bells are silent, we'll open the door, and you can pick your way through the wreckage to the terminal."   Part of the flight attendants's arrival announcement: "We's like to thank you folks for flying with us today.  And, the next time you get the insane urge to go blasting through the skies in a pressurized metal tube, we hope you think of us here at U.S. Airways."  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.    

The "It Was Snoring Versus Clapping In Training Program" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading a story in my Sunday News titled "It Was Snoring Versus Clapping in Training Program.  Story began with....I was working for Communities In Schools (CIS), a national organization whose mission is to empower students to staying in school and achieve in life.  In 1977, CIS founder Bill Milliken came up with the idea of bringing community resources into public schools.  "It's not programs that are transforming young people's loves, it's relationships,"  Milliken said.  "A great program simply creates the environment for healthy relationships to form between adults and children.  Young people thrive when adults care about them on a one-to-one level and when they also have a sense of belonging to a caring community."  In the 1980s, I was part of a team of Communities in Schools trainers, and our role was to help create new programs and to help grow existing programs.  One of the ways we did this was through what we called Multi-Track Trainings.  During a training, we would bring several hundred people together with 15 to 20 trainers and conduct sessions on how to start and run a CIS program, how to create a strategic plan, etc.  We were doing a training in Monterey, California, and trainers had to room together.  Charles and Henry were in the same room.  The first night together, Henry was loudly snoring and woke up Charles.  Charles said, "Henry, Henry, Henry," each time a little louder, trying to wake up Henry so he would stop snoring.  But this didn't work; Henry continued to sleep and snore.  Now, this took place during the time when The Clapper (a sound-activated electrical switch whose tagline was "Clap on, clap off") was very popular, so Charles decided to clap his hands as if he was activating a Clapper; clap, clap.....clap, clap.  Henry looked up, rolled over and stopped snoring.  A few hours later, Henry started  snoring again and Charles again yelled, "Henry, Henry, Henry."  Again, nothing.  Charles tried The Clapper again: clap, clap .... clap, clap....clap, clap.  Henry looked up, rolled over and stopped snoring.  This happened several times throughout the night.  In the morning, Charles said to Henry, "You've got a problem, and we have to do something about it."  Henry responded , "Well now that you bring it up, you have some crazy habits yourself, Dude.  I was not going to say anything, but I woke up several times over the course of the night to see you sitting straight up in your bed clapping as loud as you could."  Henry was dead serious. The author of this story was Marty Thomas-Brummé.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. 

The "7 Wonders Of The World" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading my latest edition of "The Fishwrapper" which I picked up at my local Stauffer's of Kissel Hill.  "The Fishwrapper" is a weekly "newsletter" that is usually about 8 pages long and contains a bit of everything from advertisements to entertainment to want ads to moving and religious stories.  Some stories may be just a page long while others may carry the viewer through a few pages of the 16 page bi-weekly newsletter.  One small one column story in the latest "The Fishwrapper" was titled "7 Wonders of the World" and it read...  Junior high school students in Chicago were studying the Seven Wonders of the World.  At the end of the lesson, the students were asked to list what they would consider to be the seven wonders of the world.  Though there were some differences, the following received the most votes: 1.  Egypt's Great Pyramids, 2.  The Taj Mahal in India, 3.  The Grand Canyon, 4.  The Panama Canal, 5. The Empire State Building, 6.  St. Peter's Basilica, 7.  China's Great Wall.  While gatherng the votes, the teacher noted that one student hadn't turned in her paper, so she asked the girl if she was having trouble with her list.  The quiet girl replied, "Yes, a little.  I can't quite make up my mind, because there are so many."  The teacher said, "Well, can you please tell  us what you have on your list so far, and maybe we can help."  The girl hesitated, then read, "I think the seven wonders of the world are.... 1. To Touch, 2. To Taste, 3. To See, 4. To Hear....she hesitated a little, then added... 5. To Feel, 6. To Laugh, and 7. To Love.  You could have heard a pin drop in the room.  May this story serve as a gentle reminder that the things we over-look as simple and ordinary are often the most wonderful, and we don't have to travel anywhere special to experience them.  So...Enjoy your Gifts!  I know I certainly will!  It was another extroradinay day in the life of an ordinary guy. 

The "Every Obituary's First Paragraph" Story

It was an ordinary day.  My oldest son recently stopped by my house to say Hi! and to drop off a few magazines that he had around the house and thought I might be interested in reading before being discarded.  He works for a magazine distribution company and gets to read just about every magazine imaginable.  Well, one of the latest magazine's that he dropped off was the New Yorker.  Interesting magazine that sports a page titled "Shouts & Murmurs."  I just love to read the page which features just about anything imaginable!  Today's page was titled "Every Obituary's First Paragraph."  Thought you might enjoy the humor as much as I did...so here are a few of the "EVERY OBITUARY'S FIRST PARAGRAPH." 

Doris E. Doris, an entrepreneurial drum majorette who shot to fame for her distinctive baton work in the 1968 Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade -  but whose subsequent attempt to launch the Ross Dress for Less Arbor Day Parade met an ignominious end when a Snoopy balloon collided with a stoplight, cementing Macy's monopoly on department-store pageantry - died on Wednesday.  She was seventy-nine. 

Jacques P. Jacques, a marine biologist who set out to photograph ever sea urchin in the Aegean Sea - an effort that took seventeen years and culminated in the 1978 coffee-table book "Take Me To Urch," which our reviewer called "disturbingly erotic" - died on Thursday.  He was ninety-two. 

Melvin F. Melvin, a soft-spoken product designer whose impact on the American household spanned tissues, towels, and paper cups - but, whose most lasting contribution was his notoriously ineffective "Do Not insert Swab into Ear Canal" warring on Q-tips packaging - died on Friday.  He was ninety-eight.

Clara V. Clara, the widow of plastic-fastener magnate Alfred T. Alfred, whose triumphant resurrection of her late husband's plastic-fastener empire made her the toast of Seattle society - but who never shot allegations that she had rigged his fateful badminton game to enrich her lover (a theory popularized in the film "Bad Minton") died on Wednesday. She was eighty-one.

Stanley P. Stanley, the Olympic bronze medallist who abanodned a burgeoning speed-skating career to pursue his pop-music ambitions -- but whose only song to reach the Billboard Hot 100, "No More Mr. Ice Buy," focused on the very sport from which he had sought to distance himself -- died on Tuesday.  He was ninety-one.

Phyllis C. Phyllis, whose discovery, in 2007, of a mysterious message in a bottle at the Santa Monica Pier set off a brief nationwide effort to decode the missive -- until an M.I.T. chemistry professor concluded that it was a waterlogged Pizza Hut menu -- died on Monday.  She was seventy-eight.  

Edna A. Edna, the enigmatic oil heiress whose expressive butter sculptures reënergized the medium and tantalized the Indianapolis art scene in the eighties -- but whose signature work, "Dairy Todd Lincoln," melted while on view at London's Tate Gallery, inspiring a wave of regulations on space heaters in museums -- died on Sunday.  She was eighty-six.

Rutherford M. Rutherford, the Washington health-insurance executive who won plastic-fastener tycoon Alfred T. Alfred's riches in a high-stakes game of badminton -- but who lost in esteem what he had gained in wealth when he played himself (opposite Susan Lucci, as Clara V. Clara) in "Bad Minton," a role for which he received the Razzie Award for Worst Actor and a lifetime ban from the Seattle Badminton Club -- died on Wednesday.  He was ninety-four.  

And...so it goes!!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. 

Farewell To Local "Keeper of Christmas" Story

It was an ordinary day.  My story today is rather lengthy... but, I felt like it was well  earned .... so read on.... Jim Morrison, known to generations as "the Keeper of Christmas" in his role as founder and former curator of the beloved National Christmas Center, has died.  He was 85.  Morrison died Oct. 13 of natural causes at Kadima Rehabilitation & Nursing Home in Lititz, PA, where he spent the last two years of his life, according to those closest to him.  The National Christmas Center opened its doors in 1998 in a 20,000-square-foot building in Paradise Township, where it remained for the next 20 years.  During that time thousands of people made their way through the museum to marvel at the antique decorations from Christmases past.  That included "Yours Truly"...many times!  The center now operates seasonally in Dauphin County near the county line.  The center had been a lifelong vision for Morrison that first developed as a child in New Jersey, when his mother drove him to Philadelphia the day after Thanksgiving to see the holiday-themed store displays.  "Everybody flocked to see the start of Christmas," Morrison told Lancaster Newspapers.  "My mother did so much to make Christmas great."  In the days after Christmas, a young Morrison would roam neighborhood streets lined with discarded Christmas trees and plucked from them any ornaments he could find.  "As a teenager, if there was snow on the ground on Christmas Eve, he'd put on skis, then take them off to walk up to the front doors of others in his neighborhood, so when kids woke up the next morning, it would appear as though Santa had been up and down the street."  Morrison's Christmas collection grew through his years of serving in the U.S. Army.  He was a model-maker, crafting items like a wooden gun case that held a pair of pistols the Texas Rangers gifted to President John F. Kennedy, and 250 sets of bookends that president Lyndon B. Johnson gave others as gifts.  "He also made models of the terrain in Vietnam to help the military in planning whatever actions they were doing over there," Miller said.  Morrison later ran a small company that restored historic houses in Washington, D.C.  Along the way he sold antique postcards, and one of his customers was the former Gotham Book Mart in New York City.  The connection led to Morrison putting up a Christmas tree on the store's balcony decorated with antique ornaments that could be purchased by customers, with proceeds going to help the needy.  He opened the Christmas Center in Lancaster County in order to bring back the true spirit of Christmas he felt had been lost in commercialism.  There was a reason behind the center's location, as the area has historical ties to Christmas.  "The first documented Christmas tree in America was in Lancaster (city) in 1821," Morrison was quoted saying to the Lancaster newspapers in 2018.  "It was the Germans that started the tree.  Possibly Martin Luther by putting candles on the tree.  So many things happen with immigration.  They brought their traditions to Lancaster.  They would wrap the tree in cotton to look like the new-fallen snow.  All the references came from Lancaster and those trees.  it's just a strong Christmas tradition in this area.  And I wanted people to learn about that."  For 20 years, Morrison estimated tens of thousands of people made their way through the museum each year to marvel at the antique decorations that took visitors on a journey through Christmas history; the center was featured in national magazines and on the Travel Channel.  I must admit that my wife and I made many trips to the Center to see the ornamentation and trains running.  Morrison and co-owner Dave Murtagh closed the Christmas Center on January 7, 2018, largely because of their ages.  About a year later, Morrison and Murtagh sold the contents of the center to David Abel for an undisclosed price.  Abel is the steward of Stone Gables Estate in West Donegal Township, where he led the reconstruction of the iconic Star Barn and surrounding outbuildings.  He plans to put the Christmas collection in the reconstructed Belmont Barn, which was dismantled along Fruitville Pike in 2015 and is currently in storage. The center still operates each Christmas season in a leased warehouse in Dauphin County that's about 5 miles north of Stone Gables Estate.  A celebration of life to remember Morrison, open to the public, will be held at the Star Barn, 1 Hollinger Lane, West Donegal Township, 2-5 p.m., Nov. 20.  Morrison will be buried in a private ceremony at a cemetery in his hometown of Haddonfield, New Jersey.  Before his death, Morrison approved the engravings for his headstone.  Etched on the headstone, in descending order, will be his name, birth date, and the title by which he most enjoyed being called: "SANTA".  RIP Dear Santa!   It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

The "50 Most Common Passwords" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading an article that listed the most common passwords that people use to open whatever they may have secretly created.  Article said that if you use one of the most common passwords, you're an easy target for hackers.  So...just in case, here's how to stay safe.  First...stop me if this sounds familiar:  You're setting up (yet another) online account when you're prompted to enter a password.  It's just easier to go with one of your most common passwords, am I right?  Maybe you'll include the word "password" in there - no chance of forgetting that! -  and "123" if numbers are required.  Or perhaps you go with your kid's or pet's name and an easy-to-remember date, like a birthday or anniversary.  Done..and...done.  NOT SO FAST!  If a password is frequently resued or easy to guess, bad actors can more easily gain access to email, banking and social media accounts, resulting in identity theft and financial loss.  Recent examples, like the Microsoft and 23and Me breaches, illustrate the consequences of weak password use, with attackers employing password-spraying and credential-stuffing attacks using easily guessed or reduced credentials respectively."  Easy-to-remember passwords are convenient, but their potential downsides can be devastating.  A weak and predictable password is easy to crack.  Hackers may use software that guesses the most common passwords, and other freely available tools on the dark web (a hidden part of the internet notorious for criminal activity) may comb through your social media profiles to look for important names and dates that are likely to appear in your password.  Even if your password is long and strong, using the same one is a bad idea.  If a company experiences a data breach - which happens more often than you may realize - cybercriminals won't just have access to one of your accounts; they'll be able to access many.  Makes sense, no?  Unfortunately, the logic hasn't convinced most of us to use unique, complex passwords.  The importance of selecting strong passwords is clear...right?  It begs the question:  What is the most common password in the world?  After all, if you know hackers' first guess, you can avoid it at all costs.  As a surprise to no one, perhaps, the most common password is 123456, according to Nord Security, a company that makes cybersecurity products, including NordVPN virtual private network software to browse the web anonymously and a password manager app called NordPass. So, I will list the 50 most common passwords so that you may choose NOT to use any of them for yourself:  123456, admin, 12345678, 123456789, 1234, 12345, password, 123, Aa123456, 1234567890, 1234567, 123123, 111111, Password, 12345678910, 000000, admin123, 1111, P@assw0rd, root, 654321, qwerty, Pass@123, 112233, 102030, bunt, abc123, Aa@123456, abcd1234, 1q2w3e4r, 123321, qwertyuiop, 87654321, Eliska81, 123123123, 11223344, 0987654321, demo, 12341234, qwerty123, Admin@123, 1q2w3e4r5t, 11111111, pass, Demo@123, azerty, admintelecom, Admin, 123meklozed.  So there you have the 50 most common passwords.  If at all possible, don't use any of them for you have to realize that if someone wants to solve your password to get into your information...they will most certainly try each of those 50 passwords to get into your account.  Now...I also found another list of most used passwords from NordPass, but many are the same as I already listed and I'm sure you aren't ready to look at yet another huge list of passwords.  An increasingly popular alternative to a password is a passkey.  Major tech companies, including Microsoft, Amazon, Apple and Google, have already adopted the technology.  To access a website or app, a passkey relies on a string of encrypted data stored in your phone or laptop and verification from you via a face or fingerprint scan or a PIN code.  "Passkeys also ensure a user-friendly and secure alternative to traditional passwords. Passkeys are device-based authentication methods that do not require the user to remember any credentials, significantly reducing the risk of phishing and credential theft."  Hope some of this helps you escape being hacked!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "A Hot Halloween Is Likely! Story

It was an ordinary day.  Halloween!  And, Lancaster County, my hometown, could be scarring up a new heat record on Halloween.  Today's heat will challenge the high temperature record set nearly 80 years ago.  Now...that's a long time ago!  I was being pushed around in a buggy back in those days!  Temperatures today cold threaten the 81-degree record set in 1946, according to the Millersville Weather Information Center.  The high is part of a brief heat wave making its way through the county through the end of this month.  "We're currently forecasting a high of 80, but that 81 record could easily be tied with enough sunshine," Weather Center Director Kyle Elliott said.  Temperatures are expected to cool to he upper 60s by the time youngsters head out in search of treats today.  Trick-or-treating is scheduled for 6 to 8 p.m. across Lancaster County, rain or shine.  Because Halloween occurs at the turn of seasons, the holiday is occasionally marked by extreme weather.  In 2011, Lancaster trick-or-treaters had to wear snow boots as they went door to door after nearly 5 inches of snow fell October 29.  Is it any wonder that I tend to get colds in this kind of weather?  This year's heat comes during one of the driest Octobers recorded in Lancaster County history.  As of this past Tuesday, only 0.04 inches of rain had been recorded in Lancaster this month.  The only drier October was in 1963, when no rain at all fell.  "In aggregate, this month will be remembered for its tranquility, persistent warmth, crisp nights and plentiful sunshine," Elliott wrote in a weather forecast discussion Friday.  "Warm-weather lover or not, it's hard to complain about this weather!"  But, dry conditions have led to a series of woods fires, with emergency dispatchers reporting well over 40 fire emergencies since the beginning of the month.  Lancaster officially reached a moderate drought stage last week, according to the U.S. Drought Monitor (whatever that is!).  Parts of Chester, Montgomery and Bucks counties are experiencing severe drought conditions, and Philadelphia has recorded its driest October in more than 20 years, with no rainfall so far this month, according to the National Weather Service.  If I didn't know that I was back home in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania...I would swear that I was in my favorite hot locale known as St. Martin/Sint Maarten.  Oh how I miss that place!  Beautiful sunny days with trips to the beach for a dip in beautiful waters of the island known as Sint Maarten/St. Martin.  Oh well!  Those were the good ole days.  I'll just have to enjoy my record setting sun today by sitting in my back yard on my lounge chair!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.   PS - Dear Barbara...Carol and I will be thinking of you as we sit in the sun today, wishing we were with you in Sint Maarten.     

The, Pennsylvania Man Named World's Pumpkin King

It was an ordinary day.  Reading about the pumpkin king who is proud, boastful, hellbent on a dynasty of huge gourds, year after year, after ascending to the world's throne last week.  Dave and Carol Stelts, giant pumpkin growers from Western Pennsylvania, won the much-coveted "Grower of the Year" (GOTY) at the 29th annual Ohio Valley Giant Pumpkin Growers Weigh-off on October 14, weighing three pumpkins that totaled a whopping 7,729 pounds.  That's about the size of an African elephant.  Stelt's largest pumpkin - 2,731.5 pounds - was just 18 pounds shy of the current U.S. and world record.  "We suddenly slayed it," Dave, 65, told the Inquirer on Oct. 18.  Last month, the Inquirer spent a day at Stelt's "Valley of Giants farm in Enon Valley, about 45 mils northwest of Pittsburgh in Lawrence County, where he obsessed over the states of his giants, which were still on the vine, and whether he would defeat his biggest rivals, the Paton Brothers, who grow pumpkins along the southern coast of England.  They're all friendly rivals, prone to rib one another every chance they can.  During that visit, Stelts made it clear the GOTY award was his mission, not the world record.  While his home was filled with dozens of ribbons, pumpkin-shaped trophies and fake, giant checks, the GOTY was a void in his life.  Stelts said the world record could be a fluke, a stroke of luck.  Grower of the year is awarded to the competitor whose top three pumpkins weigh the most.  Last month, Stelts hinted that winning the GOTY might prompt him to retire and take Carol on a summer vacation, finally.  The award seems to have only fueled his pumpkin passion, though.  He's not going to let the Patons take his throne.  "Oh yeah, I have to keep beating those limeys," he said.  The Paton brothers couldn't immediately be reached for comment.  "They weren't as heavy as they thought and we have heavier than we thought," Stelts said.  When the Inquirer spoke with Ian Paton last month, he described giant pumpkin growing as a "sickness" and mentioned his quest to break the 3,000. pound mark. "None of this is normal," he said.  And, I'd have to agree!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.    

OK...So What Does The "O" In O'clock Stand For? Story

It was an ordinary day.  Weather is beautiful in dear old Lancaster, Pennsylvania and I am sitting in my second bedroom/office preparing to type yet another story for my beloved blog..."Extraordinary stories from an ordinary guy!"  First of all...Thank You so much for reading my stories on a daily basis.  I realize that some may not be as interesting as others, but I don't always have an exciting day to share with everyone.  Some stories might have happened in the past while others might be from yesterday or a few days ago...while yet others may be telling of what I anticipate to happen in the near or distant future.  Well, my exciting story today has to do with what the "o" in o'clock stands for.  Though some folks think that the "o" stands for "on the," it actually comes from the phrase "of the clock."  When we use the word o'clock, we're saying that it's a particular hour "according to the clock."  For example, "it's almost 4 o'clock" means the same thing as "it is almost 4 according to the clock."  According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the phrase "of the clock" can trace its origin back to 1384.  This coincides with the growing popularity of mechanical clocks in Europe, the first of which were thought to have been built between 1270 and 1300 in northern Italy and southern Germany.  Before this, time was often measured by sundials or shadow clocks.  As clocks became more prevalent, "of the clock" became a standard way to indicate time.  These days no one says, "I'll meet you at 6 of the clock."  We say, "See ya at 6 o'clock."  The Oxford English Dictionary cites 1419 as the first known use of the contraction o'clock, just a few decades after the debut of the phrase "of the clock."  So...just how did the "of the clock" morph into "o'clock"?  As they do with many cumbersome words and phrases, people naturally shortened "of the clock" to "o'clock" for quicker and easier communication.  "Because it's a set phrase for telling time, it's not surprising that it got shortened over time because we're staying it fast," says Anne Curzan, PhD, a professor of English, linguistics and education at the University of Michigan.  As Michael Adams, PhD., a professor of English and linguistics at Indiana University, explains, the abbreviation makes sense when you understand how the English language evolves.  "It's unusual for English speakers to retain a lot of words in unstressed positions in a phrase," he says.  "In '1 of the clock,' you've got two unstressed words there: the of and the the.  And it is an invitation to a type of abbreviation.  So it's not "1 of the clock", but "1 o'clock."  You get that nice alternating rhythm there, which is so typical of the cadence of the English language."  As literacy increased and written language became more standardized, the shortened form of o'clock took hold.  "Part of what you have here is that, because these are early enough, the spelling comes to reflect the pronunciation," adds Curzan.  So...what does the clock in o'clock come from?  Now that you know what the "o" in "o'clock" stands for, you may wonder where the clock comes from.  Here's a fascinating fact for you: It has roots in Christianity.  See, the earliest mechanical clocks were in church towers and indicated the time by striking a bell, calling worshippers to Mass or prayer.  The Latin word for bell is clocca.  Sound familiar?  So people referred to time in terms of chimes.  "If you are a monk or a nun, you think of time in terms of bells because the bells will toll, and if it's nine bells, then you know where you're supposed to be praying or singing hymns."  Eventually, smaller clocks became popular, and more homes could afford them.  And many of those timepieces. (grandfather clocks or spring-run clocks) employed a bell that would chime on the quarter hour, half hour or hour.  "So the bell doesn't go away," says Adams.  "The word for bell gets adopted for the thing that tells the time.  And then suddenly we're using the word clock in English."  The standard way to state a precise time is by putting a number in front of o'clock.  But, according to Curzan, by the mid-1800s, you could put a word in front of o'clock as an informal indication of the time of an event.  "So this is when you'll start to see 'dinner o'clock,'" she says.  Though Curzan says the phrase wine o'clock is pretty new, the Oxford English Dictionary cites this example from a 1910 San Francisco Chronicle article:  "I've been here ever since beer o'clock." What are other uses for o'clock?  Today we ask each other, "What time is it?"  In the past, according to Curzan, you could have asked, "What o'clock is it?  We probably don't have to tell you that you won't find that use in the dictionary anymore, since it is now obsolete.  But there are other uses of o'clock that have stuck around.  "Something that we still do today, which we have recorded back to the 1700s, is using 'x o'clock' in terms of directions," says Curzan.  Say you want to alert your friend that her boss is in the restaurant.  You could say, "He's with a woman in the green grass," or you could say, "He's at 9 o'clock.  We also drive with our hands on the steering wheel in the 10 and 2 o'clock positions, "which makes no sense unless you know how we're using those to orient,"  So....before I totally mess you. up...I will quit right now...which happens to be Tuesday, 9:51 A.M.  Now wasn't that so much easier?  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.    

The Lighter Side of Life Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading a story titled "The Fix-It Man!  Sub-head was "Healing a broken farmhouse.  So...follow along with me... Near our farmhouse in Southern Indiana sits a home built in the early 1900s.  Until recently, an elderly woman lived there before passing away.  A for-sale sign went up in the yard; it was quickly purchased and then just as quickly torn down and replaced with a new house with none of the character of the old one.  I have a bad habit of telling people what I think whether or not they want to hear it, so when I saw the new owner in the hardware store, I mentioned my disappointment in seeing the old house torn down.  "It's a lot easier finding someone who'll build you a new house than finding someone willing to fix up an old one," he told me.  In one sentence, he summerized the biggest problem in America today.  Well, maybe not the biggest, but certainly in the top five.  No one knows how to fix things anymore, whether it's a house, a car, or Congress.  So you can imagine my delight when my wife and I purchased her family farm-house 13 years ago and, against all counsel, decided to restore it rather than tear it down.  That brought us into the orbit of Ross Hutcheon, perhaps the busiest man in America who can fix anything.  Ross and I met at the farmhouse in October of 2011, a carpenter with leather skin and a pastor with soft hands, standing in the front yard inspecting the sagging lines of the house, cobbled together by my wife's grandfather, a farmer, in 1913.  Ross circled the house, then went inside, poking, examining, frowning.  "Can it be fixed?" I asked.  "Anything can be fixed," he said.  That was the can-do attitude I was hoping to find, so I asked him when he could start.  "Next week," he said, shaking my hand, sandpaper meeting silk.  I agreed to meet Ross every Friday at the farmhouse to pay him for that week's labor and materials.  It soon became my favorite day of the week, rising before sunrise and driving a hundred miles south to witness that week's progress and pass out the money I had saved for my retirement, but then retirement is overrated.  Ask anyone who's retired whether they'ed prefer a rebuilt farmhouse on 80 acres or more money, and if they'd have half a brain, they'll pic the farmhouse everytime.  As my friends became aware of the project, they offered advice: get everything in writing, demand receipts, buy extra liability insurance, and make sure a lawyer looks over the contract, which wasn't possible since I didn't have a contract or anything else in writing, or anything signed....or a lawyer, for the matter.  Each Friday morning, Ross told me what I owned him, it always seemed perfectly reasonable, and I wrote him a check.   Six months later, the crooked had been set straight, the weak made strong, and the worn-out renewed.  Ross and I hail from the same generation, when young people were told that if they didn't go to college their lives would end in disaster.  Thank God Ross paid no attention to those gloomy predictions and decided instead to be useful.  I, on the other hand, attended college for ten years, but still can't look at a roof and calculate its pitch and rafter lengths in my head.  Nor can I do it on paper, or with a calculator for that matter, but Ross can in five seconds and be spot on every time.  It just goes to show you the enduring usefulness of a master's degree in theology.  

Mr. Philip Gulley, the author of this story, is a Quaker pastor and author of 22 books, including the "Harmony and Hope" series, featuring Sam Gardner.  Perhaps you may have read a few of them.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Sonar Disrupts Johnny Ray" Story

It was an ordinary day. Reading a story titled "Sonar Disrupts Johnny Ray."  Began with..."My" destroyer was in its final construction phase at a Seattle commercial shipyard, prior to acceptance by the Navy.  It had been an unduly lengthy shipbuilding process during the Vietnam War era with ensuing delays caused by an extended shipyard strike.  We were now nearing completion, with overtime authorized to expedite completion.  Testing and certification of the ship's combat systems were being conducted around the clock, which included our high-powered SQS26 Sonar in all of its modes.  There was a nightclub directly across Elliott Bay from the shipyard that brought in top-level entertainers.  One such performer was Johnny Ray, who wore hearing aids during his show.  He was performing at the club one evening when the sonar certification tests were being conducted.  Whenever the sonar pinged, it resonated across the bay into the club's air-conditioning cooling ducts near the water, adversely affecting Johnny's hearing aids.  It was so annoying that they had to stop the show, much to the dismay of his adoring fans.  Upon investigation, the shipyard was found to be at fault, and with the threat of a lawsuit, they were directed to immediately resolve the matter.  It was determined that the best way to solve the problem was to quench the sonar beam with an "air curtain screen."  A form of weighted sprinkler hose was embedded in the bottom of the bay in front of the ship's bow and was attached to an air compressor.  This worked to everyone's satisfaction, including local fishermen who found the air screen also attracted steel-head salmon.  The author of this story was Robert O. Strange!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "My Favorite Color Is October" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading a story in "The Fishwrapper" titled "My Favorite Color is October."  Enjoyed it so much that I thought I just had to post it for you to read.  So....enjoy!

"My favorite color is October."  Let's give 'em "pumpkin" to talk about.  Another "gorgeous" day at the farm.  What do you get when you drop a pumpkin?  Squash!  Of course, there are many reasons why we may love October more than any other month of the year.  As the weather begins to cool, grab your favorite hoodie and a cup of hot chocolate.  It's officially bonfire season, so gather your closest friends, grab some sticks, marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate and start making your favorite s'mores.  The crisp October evenings are perfect for gatherings by a roaring fire.  Of course October is my favorite month.  Why shouldn't it be?  The only thing negative about it is the fact that it only lasts thirty-one days.  Can you beat the taste of a delicious apple goody dessert?  Perhaps the only way you can beat it is with a little bit of autumn humor.  How do you calculate the circumference of a pumpkin?  With pi.  What did the pumpkin say after Thanksgiving?  Goodpie, everyone."  What did the pumpkin say to the pumpkin carver? "Cut it out."  What's the problem with eating too much pumpkin pie this time of year?  You'll get "autumn'y" ache.  Slipped on a pumpkin today.  It caught me off gourd.  What did the orange pumpkin say to the green pumpkin?  "You look a little sick."  What does the pumpkin use to repair its pants?  A pumpkin patch!  Okay, enough!  Vincent Van Gogh once said, "As long as autumn lasts, I shall not have hands, canvas, and colors enough to paint the beautiful things I see."  Joe L. Wheeler reminisced, "there is something incredibly nostalgic and significant about the annual cascade of autumn leaves."  Albert Camus described it this way, "Autumn is a second spring, when every leaf is a flower."  John Burroughs took the senior approach and speculated, "How beautiful leaves grow old!  How full of light and color are their last days!"  Elizabeth Lawrence concluded that, "Everyone must take time to sit and watch the leaves turn."  I can agree with that last suggestion.  I think one of the best places to sit and watch that happen is a tree stand.  That way you can observe deer and other wildlife, along with all of nature parade its beauty through the transition from the growing season into late fall and colder days ahead.   Not that I expect it will help any, but I've just put in my order for plenty of sunny cool days, dazzling sunsets, and over-the-top activity when I am out hunting.  I guess November will tell us how that all pans out?  But, hey, don't forget to prepare, tune up your equipment, practice... practice... practice, identify your target, and please stay safe everyone!   The fourth Saturday of October is national "Make a Difference Day", and it is your chance to make a positive impact in your community.  So, on October 26th, find a project that aligns with your family's values and make a difference!  The expression of love through support and good ol' elbow grease can go a long way in pulling communities and neighbors together.  There are many more special days that could be mentioned, but I will let each of you decide what and who you want to support.  That is a personal decision.  Just don't let October slip by without taking the opportunity to make a difference to someone.  And remember, there are only thirty-one days to make it happen!  Invite your closest friends, before your chances go squash!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.     

Former Millersville College Pitcher Makes The Big Time! Story

It was an ordinary day.  That was until I opened my morning newspaper and read the inch high headline on Page 1.  It read..."IT'S LIKE A DREAM".  And directly above the headline was a large picture of a fellow dressed in a New York Yankees uniform, getting ready to throw a left-handed pitch.  The New York Yankees pitcher was Tim Mayza, who will be playing in the World Series beginning tonight.  The caption below the photo read that Mayza, who was picked up by the Yankees organization in July, made the big club in August and now he'll be participating in his first World Series, beginning tonight against the Los Angeles Dodgers.  Now...I'm a National League fan, but who can't cheer for someone who played college baseball for Millersville State College, where I went to college and graduated from many years ago!  The New York Yankees faced Mayza for years when he pitched for the Toronto Blue Jays, and they had a plan for retooling his arsenal.  These were tough times for Mayza.  Maybe the toughest in his 11 professional seasons, which were spent entirely with the Blue Jays from the minute he was drafted in 2013.  "You're in a little bit of darkness," Mayza said this past week.  "You're in limbo and unsure of what the future holds.  It was really hard mentally and emotionally."  Mayza was designated for assignment by the Blue Jays on June 29.  He made his first appearance with the Scranton/Wilkes-Barre Railriders, the Yankees' Triple-A club, on July 24.  He was back in the big leagues on August 16.  And now, a season filled with ups and downs has brought Mayza to his first World Series.  Has to be an UP! to him!!  The Yankees will face the Los Angeles Dodgers in Game 1 tonight in L.A.  Months after his midsummer break, and a few hours spent mulching in the garden at home, Mayza's career is alive and well.  "I'm glad to see him with a big smile on his face," college teammate Jesse Mowed said.  "There was a time where I think he just didn't know.  He's back to himself again.  He's really enjoying the experience."  Hey...who wouldn't be?  What carried Mayza through were his connections to Millersville.  He had tough-love conservations with coach Jon Shehan and an unbreakable bond with a group of friends that called themselves the Hound Dogs.  The four recruits happened to arrive at Millersville around the same time.  They shared an apartment, a dugout and ultimately their life's journeys.  Mowed, from Waynesboro, and Sunken, from Camp Hill, were pitchers.  Mark Maiorano, from Millstone Township, New Jersey, was an outfielder.  Mayza was the best player in the group, a multi-sport athlete who graduated from Upper Perkiomen in Pennsburg. Shehan discovered Mayza at an American Legion All-Star workout, which was an important recruiting tool 15 years ago.  "Anytime you sign a 6-3", athletic lefty, it's a good thing," Shehan said. " I would say he was a pretty big deal for us.  But I was such a young coach.  I really didn't know what we had."  Mayza's velocity, in the mid-80s at Upper Perk, jumped not long after his arrival at Millersville.  Shehan put Mayza on the mound in the Division II College World Series as a true freshman.  The summer between sophomore and junior year is when Mayza's stock really started to rise.  He was invited to the prestigious Cape Cod League and returned to college as a legitimate pro prospect.  Radar guns began to show up for Mayza's starts during his junior season, when he posted a 1.55 ERA in 15 games.  He was drafted by Toronto in the 12th round that spring.  Shortly before his final season at Millersville, with six inches of snow on the ground, Mayza asked Mowen to have a catch.  The two walked over to Boemesderfer Stadium, cleared out some space on the track and threw long toss.  Mayza needed to strengthen his arm before the opener.  He couldn't let the reality of winter in the north slow him down.  Once he reached the minors in 2013, there was another roadblock.  He endured two seasons that were so miserable a member of the Blue Jays front office asked him if he was :allergic to the strike zone."  Shehan was concerned the end might be near for MU's prized lefty.  "I really didn't think his career was going to last very long," Shehan said.  "Sometimes the conversion was one-sided.  It was, 'Tim, if you don't figure this out between the ears more than anything else, it's not gonna last.'"  Mayza's results began to change in 2015, his third season.  He made his big-league debut two years later.  As much as Mayza's buddies admired him and believe in him, no one could have expected what these years have brought.  That a ballplayer from a Division II school in Pennsylvania could have endured for this long.  That Mayza could pitch for the Yankees!  That he could wear pinstripes in the Fall Classic!!  All of Mayza's closest friends will attend Game 4 in the Bronx next week.  Mowen and Maiorano grew up as Yankee fans.  Mowen said it took his breath away when his favorite team signed one of his favorite people.  Another friend, Bobby Sunkel has cheered for the Boston Red Sox, the Yankee's bitter rivals, for his entire life.  Sunkel is still debating wearing Yankee gear as a show of support.  Mayza had an 8.03 ERA when the Blue Jays cut him.  He had a 4.00 ERA in 18 innings with the Yankees.  The lefty made only two appearances against the Kansas City Royals and Cleveland Guardians in the first two round of the playoffs.  He said he hopes to remain on the active roster, which will be announced today.  If he does make it today, there's a chance Mayza will be summoned from the bullpen to face Shohei Ohtani or Freddie Freeman or some other Dodger's All-Star.  I just want to see Tim get the opportunity to pitch," Mowen said, his voice cracking with emotion.  "That wold complete my baseball career."  And...more than a decade after they lived in the same apartment at Millersville, they'll be in the same stadium.  One in uniform.  Three in the stands.  The World Series....they made it together!!  And...I can hardly wait to see the game tonight.  "LET'S PLAY BALL!"   It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.     

Bean Boots

It was an ordinary day.  Reading a story titled "Bean Boots" that I found in my "Good Old Days" Magazine that had been tucked away in one of my desk drawers.  Story when like this.... Lewis pulled the old Chevy van up to our house after school, and my brothers and I got out.  My feet were wet as they often were that fall, but it was with excitement and anticipation that I went running into the house.  "Did my boots come today, Mom?"  It was late in the fall of 1943.  The war had been going on for nearly two years.  I was nearly 12.  Footwear was rationed and very difficult to get, particularly rubber boots of any kind.  On dry days, I wore my shoes and on wet days a pair of rubber pacs that a neighbor had given to me.  They were hand-me-downs from one of his sons who was considerably older than I was.  The boots were at least two sizes too big for me.  Those rubber pacs had seen their day.  The sole was broken on both boots.  It was necessary to mend the breaks in the soles with a rubber composition material called Solo.  I would clean the breaks, apply rubber cement, and when properly tacky, force the gooey Solo into the breaks and then let it harden overnight.  The pair could last a couple of weeks and then would need to be done again.  Obviously, the boots would be wet and would require a couple of days drying time on top of the warming closet over the wood stove.  The old Solo would have to be pulled out, and then the area would have to be cleaned, cemented and patched all over again. In the meantime, I'd wear my regular shoes and hope it wouldn't rain or snow.  My parents cautioned me that there was no guarantee I'd get the boots at all.  A lot of people needed them.  There could be a six-week to two-month shipping delay.  The boots cost $4.65 a pair.  I had saved about $3 from my summer earnings from caddying at the golf course, and Mom and Dad agreed to pay the rest.  Bean's catalog didn't have children's sizes, only mens' sizes.  That meant the smallest size I could buy was a size 6.  My shoe size at the time was only 4.  We ordered the boots as soon as we could in hopes the I would stand a better chance of getting them.  Days went by!  Each school day I'd pick my way around puddles or trudge through the snow with whatever I had for shoes or boots that day.  In the afternoon we'd all climb out of the Chevy "carry-all" van that served as our school bus, and I would hurry into the house.  My question was always the same.  Poor Mom must have found it difficult to answer the question day after day with a no.  Christmas was rapidly approaching and with it came more snow and more frequent wet feet.  Needless to say my hopes were low that the boots would arrive at all.  After one particularly long day, we boarded the van to head home.  It stopped at our house, and I got out and trudged to the back door.  Mom met me with a package from Freeport, Maine.  I opened the package carefully.  The boots might not be the right size.  I might need the packing slip so we could return them.  I got the shoes off and hauled on the boots.  Bean Boots could be pulled on because they had a leather loop in the back just for that purpose.  My feet floated in them, as they were two sizes too large.  Well, I could always wear extra socks, and my feet would grow.  We did not return the boots!  I am sure L.L. Bean sold many boots before that day in late 1943 and many since.  I dare to say they never sold a pair any more beautiful or any more appreciated than mine!  Neat story that reminded me of one of the pair of boots that I had purchased at one time...years ago.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

"Local Tortoise Continues Pioneering Legacy" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading a story in my local paper titled "Local tortoise continues pioneering legacy."  It's sub-title read: "Rocky Brooks' name will be aboard NASA spacecraft heading on journey toward one of Jupiter's moons."  Rocky Brooks has postcards of Mars and Venus hanging on his walls.  The 10-year-old from nearby Ephrata, PA enjoys attending space-themed events.  Now his name will be aboard NASA's Europe Clipper when that spacecraft begins its journey to Jupiter's ocean moon.  Rocky is a Russian tortoise.  There's symbolism there!  In September 1968, the Soviet Union sent two Russian tortoises into space.  They orbited the Earth's moon, splashed down in the Indian Ocean and returned to Moscow just months before Apollo 8 carried three human U.S. astronauts into orbit around the moon.   "It was the Space Race, and the Russians attempted to beat us," said Dawn Brooks, Rocky's owner and volunteer board member at Ryan Observatory at Muddy Run in Holtwood.  "When they (the tortoises) came back, they had lost about 10% of their body weight.  But other than that, they were perfectly fine."  Brooks regularly tells that story when she takes Rocky to the observatory, which is run under contract with Constellation Energy.  Rocky was there on September 14 for "International Observe the Moon" night.  So was his official "Message in a Bottle" certificate from NASA.  It signifies that Rocky's name joins aboard Europe Clipper more than 2.6 million others from around the world, including 25,622 from Pennsylvania.  They were submitted for free by those seeking to have names stenciled in tiny letters on a dine-size microchip by an electron beam that made each line of text smaller than 1/100th the width of a human hair, according to NASA.  A 21-day launch window extends into early November and NASA said it will evaluate the situation once conditions have cleared.  Also secured to the spacecraft is a poem and waveforms of people saying "water" in over 100 spoken languages.  Previous space missions found evidence of a massive ocean flow of Europa's icy crust.  NASA scientist consider that moon one of the most promising places for habitable conditions.  The Europa Clipper's journey is expected to take five years.  The average life expectancy for a Russian tortoise in captivity is 40 to 60 years.  Rocky was a rescue, and Brooks is guessing his age.  But even if she's off by a couple decades, the tortoise will likely still be popping up at Muddy Run by the time the Europe Clipper begins fly-bys of a moon Galileo first spotted through a homemade telescope in 1610.  "Rocky's a great teaching point...," Brooks said. "He has quite a little following out there."  "We talk about animals in space a lot," Brooks told them.  "But not many  people know that the first creature that actually went into space, orbited the moon and came back in one piece, no less, would be your Russian tortoise."  Surprised reactions ensued.  "Rocky knows this and he would like to go to the moon, too," Brooks added.  "I've tried to talk to people about that."  For now, Brooks plans to embrace any name opportunities that present themselves on future NASA missions.  Rocky's moniker was already on a flash drive that circled Earth's moon during the 2022 Artimis I mission.  "I've promised to get his name out into space as much as I can for him," Brooks said.  "Until such a time as NASA calls me and says, 'We're ready.  Let's send tortoises back to the moon.' "  Best of luck from LDub on your journey! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

"Lunch To Celebrate My Wife's Birthday" Story

It was an ordinary day.  My wife, Carol, recently celebrated her birthday and we were invited to spend lunch at Dockside Willie's Restaurant in Lemoine, Pennsylvania.  Our oldest son Derek and his wife Barbara stopped at our villa this past Saturday at Woodcrest Villas to drive us to the restaurant which is located along the Susquehanna River.  Restaurant is very interesting with some of the best food we have ever had.  And....no one ever goes away from this restaurant hungry.  Others who met us at the restaurant besides our oldest son and our daughter-in-law Barb, was our youngest son, Tad, our daughter Brynn, and her two children, our two grand-daughters...Courtney and Camille.  A few month ago the same crew met at the same location for my birthday and enjoyed the atmosphere and location that it was decided that we would meet at the same place to celebrate my wife's birthday.  Meals are huge and there is no way you will ever go home hungry.  Most of us had sandwiches for our lunchtime meal, but a few did eat a bit more.  The drinks were amazing, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic.  And, as usual, our waitress was fantastic....I mention this because we happened to have the same waitress as when I celebrated by birthday this past September....and she actually remembered me and the rest of our group.  Dockside Willie's is located on the outskirts of Harrisburg in a locale known as Lemoine.  It is right along the Susquehanna River and has great views of a few of the bridges that direct the traffic  across the river.  The day was fantastic and my wife enjoyed her special day with our family.  Life is great!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

The "Take It From Someone WHO IS OLDER!!!

It was an ordinary day.  Reading an article from someone WHO IS OLDER than I am.  Won't say how much older, but I'm sure than doesn't matter to you...right?   Well, this OLDER PERSON had a few good comments to make...so I just knew you would enjoy reading them.  So...follow along...if you can read the small type:

Being a little older, I am very fortunate to have someone call and check on me every day.  He is from India and seems to be very concerned about my car warranty.

I finally realize why I look so bad in pictures.  It's my face.

It only takes one slow-walking person in the grocery store to destroy the illusion that I'm a nice person.

Sorry that I'm late.  I got here as soon as I wanted to!

It's fine to eat a test grape in the produce section, but when you take one bite of rotisserie chicken it's --- "Sir, you need to leave now!

One thing no one ever talks about, when it comes to being an older adult, is how much time we devote to keeping a cardboard box because it is, you know, a really good box.

I can't believe I forgot to go to the gym today.  That's seven years in a row now.

If you dropped something when you were younger, you just picked it up.  When you're older and you drop something, you stare at it for just a bit, contemplating if you actually need it anymore.

I like to make lists.  I also like to leave them lying on the kitchen counter and then guess what's on the list when I am at the store. 

And...if you were expecting more....well....it's time for my nap!  

Amen! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "One of Lancaster's Finest Coaches" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading an article in my Sunday News titled "Horn of Plenty."  Story had to do with the Lancaster McCaskey High School storied basketball coach who received the George W. Kirchner Award many years ago.  Story went...The Lancaster-Lebanon League formed 52 years ago just as Pete Horn arrived at McCaskey High School and found a remarkable group of basketball players walking the corridors.  Good timing!  Horn coached at McCaskey from 1972-1993, won five league titles, eight section titles and 355 games in a career that has earned him the George W. Kirchner Award, which he will receive this coming Wednesday from the Lancaster County Sprots Hall of Fame.  Kirchner, who died in 1965, was sports editor of the Lancaster New Era.  The award is "the highest honor that can be bestowed upon a local sports figure for a body of work achieved in Lancaster County," according to the Hall of Fame's website.  "I'm extremely grateful and, admittedly, surprised," Horn said by telephone last week.  "Maybe the best thing about it is being associated with those who have already won it."  Although it has struggled lately, McCaskey has been the L-L's leagues most successful boys basketball program over the league's history.  But the Red Tornado had not had a winning season in 25 years when Horn, all 5-foot-5 of him, arrived in 1972.  Part of the futility was playing in the powerful, new-defunct Central Penn League.  Although only 30, Horn already had been a head coach at Freedom High in Western Pennsylvania, Washington Township High in New Jersey, and his alma mater, West Nottingham Academy in Maryland.  Although long removed from winning, McCaskey had potential.  It also had a reputation, tinged with racism and classism, for lack of discipline.  Horn and his players blew that up fast.  "When I came in, it was obvious we had talent," Horn said.  "We began pretty quickly to do things differently."  McCaskey's 1972-73 front line of Jesse Roberson, Bruce DeBord and Jeff Allenman all stood 6-7.  The Tornado wasn't just big.  In fact, Alleman usually didn't start, because of superb swingman Jeff Hawkins, and McCaskey got 13 points per game and elite playmaking from point guard Keith Gordon.  Horn got them to fit together!  "When we make mistakes, when we do something he doesn't like, we really hear about it," DeBord, who would go on to play at Syracuse University, said in an interview.  "But, he lets us know when we please him, too.  He has our respect.  The other coaches didn't."  The 1972-73 Red Tornado rolled to the first L-L championship and reached the District Three Class 3A (then the biggest class) semifinals before losing to eventual state finalist Reading.  Horn never got the biggest prizes, a district or state title.  He did turn out colorful, well-drilled teams that for decades were the team to beat in the L-L.  "He was the most disciplined coach I've ever seen," DeBord said.  "He's the best coach I've ever had."  After he retired from McCaskey as coach and athletic director in 1993, Horn was the head coach at Lancaster Country Day, an assistant at the Hill Schol in Pottstown and served for one season under Glenn Robinson at Franklin & Marshall College.  There was also a Pete Horn coaching tree, which included assistants Mike McKonly (later the AD at Manheim Township), Steve Powell (who replaced Horn and had his own long run of success at McCaskey), Mark Macik, Earl Boots and Willie McDowell.  "I'm very happy with what we did at McCaskey, but I was lucky to have so many excellent people to work with," Horn said.  "As far as making a speech (Wednesday), that's one of the points I want to make X - great principals, great coaches, and, again, a lot of kids who really wanted to play."  The banquet at the Eden Resort will begin Wednesday at 4:30 p.m., followed by dinner at 6 and announcement of award winners, including Horn and Hall of Fame inductees Barbara Barr (McCaskey basketball, tennis, softball), Damien Henry (McCskey football, basketball, track), Kyle Halyards (Hempfield swimming) and Kris Wilson (McCaskey football). It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

The "My Favorite Color is October!" Story

It was an ordinary day.   Just got home from the grocery store and began reading my weekly "The Fishwrapper."  At the top or the front page was a note stating "A Publication of Little Mountain Printing.  So...no matter what day it might be or where I got my story's information from today, you are about to read a story that was a titled "My Favorite Color is October."  SO...ENJOY...Just as I did!  

The only thing negative about it is the fact that it only lasts thirty-one days.  At least it has enough days to include my birthday, but there are lots of other reasons to enjoy the aroma it provides.  Can you beat the taste of a delicious pumpkin pie or some delicious apple goody dessert?  Perhaps the only way you can beat it is with a little bit of autumn humor.   How do you calculate the circumference of a pumpkin?  With pi.  What did the pumpkin say after Thanksgiving?  "Goodie, everyone."  What did the pumpkin say to the pumpkin carver?  "Cut it out."  What's the problem with eating too much pumpkin pie this time of year?  You'll get "autumn'y" ache.  Slipped on a pumpkin today.  It caught me off gourd.  What did the orange pumpkin say to the green pumpkin?  You look a little sick."  What does a pumpkin use to repair its pants? A pumpkin patch!  Okay enough!  Vincent Van Gogh once said, "As long as autumn lasts, I shall not have hands, canvas, and colors enough to paint the beautiful things I see."  Joe L. Wheeler reminisced, "There is something incredibly nostalgic and significant about the annual cascade of autumn leaves."  Albert Camus described it this way, "Autumn is a second spring, when every leaf is a flower."  John Burroughs took the senior approach and speculated, "How beautifully leaves grow old!  How full of light and color are their last days!"  Elizabeth Lawrence concluded that, "Everyone must take time to go sit and watch the leaves turn."  I can agree with that last suggestion.  I think one of the best places to sit and watch that happen is in the tree stand.  That way you can observe deer and other wildlife, along with all of nature parade its beauty through the transition from the growing season into late fall and colder days ahead.   Not that I expect it will help any, but I'll just put in my order for plenty of sunny cool days, dazzling sunsets, and over-the-top activity when I am out hunting.  I guess November will tell us how that all pans out?  But, hey, don't forget to prepare,  tune up your equipment, practice, practice, practice, identify your target, and please, stay safe everyone!  Speaking of safety, October 6-12 was National Fire Prevention Week, so I'm hoping you made sure your smoke alarms are working and new batteries were installed.  The fourth Saturday of October is National Make a Difference Day, and it is your chance to make a poitive impact in your community.  So on October 26th, find a project that aligns with your family's values and make a difference!  The expression of love through support and good ol' elbow grease can go a long way in pulling communities and neighbors together.  There are many more special days that could be mentioned, but I will let each one of you decide what and who you want to support.  That is a personal decision.  Just don't let October slip by without taking the opportunity to make a difference to someone.  And remember, there are only thirty-one days to make it happen!  Invite your closest friends, before your chances go squash!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  Article by M. Gingrich

A "Tight-Knit 'Family'" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading about a young man named Cody McSherry, an accordionist from Lancaster PA., whom has performed throughout the United States, and parts of Europe, most notably the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C. He performs mainly in the genres of European folk music, classical music, and jazz. Most recently, he has ventured into the genre of Eastern European folk music, and has greatly fallen in love with this genre. At the age of 4, he started studying piano. After two years of study, he found the piano accordion and fell in love with the instrument. Currently Cody performs on piano accordion, C-system chromatic accordion, and Steirische Harmonika (an Austrian traditional diatonic accordion). He has won awards at various accordion festivals throughout the U.S, at events such as the American Accordionists' Association festivals and the Leavenworth International Accordion Celebration. Cody is also an organist and a classical vocalist, and has received various awards and recognitions for classical voice. As an organist, Cody plays both classical and liturgical styles as well as theatre style. In addition to musical studies, Cody has studied foreign and ancient languages for many years. He is fluent in French and Spanish, and has reached proficiency in Latin, Ancient Greek, Ancient Egyptian Hieroglyphs, Italian, and German. He plans to major in Classics with an emphasis on Ancient Greek and perhaps a dual-major with music. He hopes to teach ancient and modern languages in his future. I can still remember beginnng to play the accordion when I was a young boy. I started around the age of 12 with an 80 bass accordion which at the time was a good fit. An 80 bass key accordion has a regular right hand keyboard with a left-hand panel of 80 bass buttons. I learned on an accordion of this size, and after about 3 years I found I was large enough, size-wise, and strong enough to hold a regulation sized accordion which has a larger right-hand keyboard with 120 left-hand bass buttons. The biggest difference is the wider range of sound you can achieve with the 120 bass buttons instead of the 80 buttons. Most adult accordions are what are known as the 41/120 accordion which is 41 right-hand white keys and 120 push-button bass keys on the left keyboard. I started at the age of 12 with an 80 bass key accordion and that was a good fit.  A few years later I graduated to the 120 key accordion.   I'm sorry to say I haven't played the accordion for close to 60 years now, but if someone offered me a chance to give it a try again, I would certainly do so!  Only problem would be that I would have to sit down while playing it, since my back could no longer stand the weight and pressure that the full-sized accordion yields.  Cody grew up in Manheim Township and will soon perform with the Tamburitzans at Warwick Middle School, his final local show with the troupe he is a part of.  After he graduates from college in the spring, Cody hoped to pursue graduate school and eventually get his doctorate, sharing the world of Eastern Europe through academia.  "I think there's a lot of performing that's involved in teaching," Cody says.  "It's the other way of sharing your love for the culture."  On Saturday, October 19, Cody will perform his last local show with the Tamburitzans at Warwick Middle School before he graduates from college in the spring.  After graduating, Cody is planning to enroll in graduate school.  "It feels bizarre, for sure, and there's a lot of bittersweet feelings of being able to enjoy my last home show with the Tams," Cody says.  "But I'm hoping that we get an enormous audience, it's much more fun that way."  The Tamburitzans are a nonprofit, collegiate and scholarship-based dance troupe based in Pittsburgh.  They combine the dance and music traditions of several Eastern and Southern European cultures, touring the country to share performances, says executive director Alyssa Bushunow.  "It creates the space for everyone,"  Bushunow says.  "We have people that are tied to us because they like the historical cultural perspective, people who are tied to us because they feel connected through the student and the scholarship, and then we have some people who just love a good show. The group is currently touring with its new show, "Legacy."  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.     

"The Day-Long Sit-In" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Bundled up in a puffy blue jacket, the exhaustion in Jack Crowley's eyes was clear.  Crowley, president of Water Street Mission, spent the entire night sitting on a wooden bench off South Prince Street in downtown Lancaster, Pennsylvania.  By 10 a.m., he estimated he slept only in 20-minute increments throughout the night.  With a sleeping bag, he tried sleeping on his side or even sitting up-right to get a little shut-eye in the 40-degree weather.  The nonprofit leader began sitting on the bench at 3 p.m. Wednesday afternoon and remained there until 3 p.m. Thursday.  The goal wasn't to imitate homelessness, Crowley said, but to raise awareness of the trials homeless people experience, in observance of World Homeless Day.  After 19 hours outside, Crowley felt as if he gained a new understanding of what people who are experiencing homelessness go through.  "Imagine those individuals who are like, "OK, how do I take the next step forward in my life when I don't know where to go...because I'm scared, because I'm cold, because there's no comfortable place to lay down,'" he said.  "It's no wonder people struggle to take the next step.  Still, Crowley said, his 24 hours outside didn't compare to what real people go through day in and day out.  He was able to go inside for bathroom breaks and had easy access to food, water and coffee when he needed it.  At the end of the day, Crowley said, he'd be able to go home to a warm bed.  Crowley called the bench sit-in a "gimmick" meant to grab people's attention.  The day long event was streamed live at Lancaster.news/24HoursOnABench so people could tune in to hear Crowley talk with guests about housing and homelessness. People from across the community came out to talk to Crowley, including elected officials like Commissioner Alice Yoder and City Council member Jaime Arroyo.  Nonprofit leaders including Lancaster County United Way Presdient and CEO Kate Zimmerman and Lancaster County Food Hub Executive Director Paige McFarling also joined Crowley.  "Sometimes folks don't want to talk about homelessness.  They feel that if they can ignore it, it doesn't exist, but these challenges do exist," Arroyo told Crowley.  "The more we can have conversations with our neighbors, partners, we raise awareness about it and there might be that idea that sparks, that we're able to carry out."  The public also was welcome to join Crowley, and some people did.  A woman who had experience with homelessness stopped by in the evening to talk.  Her daughter, Crowley said, had stayed at Water Street for a period of time years ago.  The idea for the bench sit-in came from other rescue missions across the country, like Fresno Mission in California, where the nonprofit's CEO in January sat outside for a day. Rescue missions, like Water Street on South Prince Street, offer shelter services and food for people in need.  At Water Street, people can stay with limited restrictions for 90 days.  They are then given the option of moving to a residential shelter, where people must participate in classes and religious studies.  Otherwise, they have to leave the shelter and wait 60 days before returning.  Some people criticize Water Street's model of not welcoming the whole community, which Crowley addressed with people throughout the day. "We want to hear each other out," he said.  "That's not the first time I've had that conversation, and it won't be the last."  Crowley's bench sit-in comes at a crucial time in Lancaster.  The county's only low-barrier shelter closed in June and will not open until December.  At the moment, Water Street's shelter is at capacity.  The city also has begun strictly enforcing camping restrictions in public parks, making it difficult for people to find places to sleep.  Crowley said he expects it will take time to fully process his experience, but hopes to take back a greater sense of empathy to his work.  He also wants to see the community cooperate with all the struggles in teaching those in need to try and help themselves if at all possible.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Prayers For Soldiers And Dolls" Story

It was an ordinary day.  It was the mid-1940s in the mountains of East Tennessee.  I was 5 that year; my sister, Charl, was 7.  World War II was in full swing, and patriotism was high.  We had a war to win and didn't complain that everything from sugar in coffee to shoes and tires were rationed for the war effort.  But, Christmas was coming, and our spirits were high.  In the mountains, everyone was poor, except we really didn't know it.  Poor was a way of life.  Christmas was family; we had abundant food (grown by us), church pageants, and few, if any, gifts.  That year, my dad joined most of the other farmers at the aluminum plant to work, so things were looking up.  That Christmas Eve, Charlie and I were kneeling by our bed, saying our prayers.  Charles knew so much and had already said a beautiful prayer, but the best I could do was mimic her.  "Bless our boys in service, and please keep them safe," she prayed, her hands folded and her blue eyes closed.  My hands covered my face, and I peeked through my fingers to admire her serene face and her blonde curls hanging like a halo around her head.  If God heard anybody's prayers, it would be hers.  After Charles' "Amen," it was my turn.  After my "blesses" and "thanks," I ended with, "and please have Santa bring me a doll--and Charlie too."  I mumbled into my hands, "I really, really want one.  And I don't care if it's not fancy."  As we climbed into bed, Charles scolded me.  "Remember, Mama told us not to ask for selfish things," she said wisely.  "There's a war going on, and we must think of others." She blew out the kerosene lamp by the bed.  "Besides," she went on, "we already have the best Christmas yet.  Remember that candy Uncle Dobie brought us?"  Dobie was our mother's brother, home on furlough from the Army for a few days.  He had just visited us, bringing us a hugh box of chocolates, which would be opened on Christmas Day.  The chocolates were a great gift for our family as candy was scarce due to the war.  But even so, we always had a little from a yearly box of chocolate-covered cherries and the perpermint-stick candy that would be in our stockings on Christmas morning, along with an apple, an orange, a few nuts, and if we were lucky, a tangerine.  Usually there was a small gift tucked inside too -- a little toy watch or some hair bows.  Now we'd have Uncle Dobie's candy too.  Still, I dreamed of a sleepy-eyed doll that could cry.  Through the open door we could see our empty stockings hung on the mantel and our Christmas tree, which Daddy had gone into the woods and cut that day.  We always got our tree on Christmas Eve morning, and once it was in place, Mamma would bring out her carefully saved decorations from years past.  There were just a few worn store-bought ornaments; the rest were homemade.  Last, Mamma would bring out her precious silver icicles that had been used over and over.   New decorations made of foil were not available due to the war.  I could hear Charlie breathing softly as she slept, but my thoughts were on the dolls.  I was positive my prayer would be answered.  I dozed off but woke with a start.  I could hear movement in the living room and thought I could see a dark, figure quietly making its way through the shadows in the room.  Could it be?  Was it Santa?  I was petrified and thrilled all at once.  I lay as still as if frozen, and I closed my eyes tightly.  Then, all was quiet, but I was afraid to look.  I was sure it was almost dawn by then, so I shook my sister.  "Charl! Charl!  Santa came!"  She turned over and pulled up the quilt.  "Go back to sleep, Bet," she said.  "Santa ain't even real."  "Is too!" I returned.  I was crushed, but I settled back down to wait for daylight.  Somebody had to fill those stockings, and I knew it was Santa.  At first light we slipped into the living room and found our stockings.  We put a log on the banked fire and contentedly pulled out our goodies.  Presently, Mama came into the room, sleep in her eyes and her long hair, usually worn in a victory roll, hanging loose around her shoulders.  She smiled indulgently.  "Did you find anything under the tree?" she asked.  Like a bullet the two of us were up and by the Christmas Tree.  It only took a moment to realize that hidden behind the tree were two big, beautiful dolls.  They were identical except for the color of their pretty dresses.  And our names were on them!  It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen.  "Told ya Santa was here," I bragged to Charlie.  She and Mamma smiled knowingly but said nothing.  That had to be the happiest Christmas ever for two little country girls.  The war ended, and life didn't change a lot in the mountains, but I never forgot praying for that baby  doll and the joy I had when my prayer was answered.  I think of that Christmas often when I see the extravagant, sophisicated gifts today's children receive.  Oh, for the Good Old Days!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

"64 Year Marriage Started With A Sailor At A Movie At The Strand Theater" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading about a time in April, 1959 that a girl named Charlotte and her best friend Sandy were walking down East King Street on their way to the Strand Theatre to watch a movie.  While walking, they saw two sailors dressed in their white uniforms sitting on the steps at the USO Club.  Charlotte was just a country girl of 18 years old at the time.  When Charlotte laid eyes on the sailor sitting on the outside of the step, she thought to herself, "I would love to marry that guy."  "I said...Charlotte, forget it.  He won't want anything to do with you because you are too heavy,"  I wasn't really at all, but in my head I ihtought I was.  As we got closer, he started talking to me and I told him that we were going to the movie theatre.  He asked if he could walk with me and I said that would be great.  I fell in love with this guy when I first laid eyes on him.  We walked to the theatre and he told me his name was Roy.  When we arrived at the theater he said to me, "If this movie isn't any good, you're going to owe me some money."  I thought he was serious!  He did put his arm around me in the movie theatre.  When the movie was over, I asked him about owing him money if he didn't like it.  He told me he was only teasing and he was sorry if I thought he was serious.  Roy and his friend walked back to my car with us.  I had a 1948 Chevy two-door coupe that my dad bought for me for $100 at Wiggins Chevrolet in Marticville.  I paid him back $10 each month by getting a job after graduating from high school.  As we drove down Prince Street to what is now Willow Street Pike, I pulled into Buchmiller Park.  We got out of the car and talked a while, getting to know each other better.  I learned he was from Missouri, but stationed at Bainbridge Naval Base in Maryland.  We exchanged phone numbers (as well as some hugs and kisses!) then I drove Roy and his buddy back into town.  I was really feeling that this guy liked me.  Whenever he would have a weekend pass, he would come to meet my family.  They loved Roy as I did, too.  On August 3, 1959, we were married.  Money was very tight in those days and since my father worked for the railroad, he couldn't afford to take off work for the wedding.  My mother drove us to Aberdeen Proving Ground in Maryland where we were married in the chapel.  Because we didn't have much money,  Roy just wore his Navy uniform and I wore a two-piece dress that I already had. When we arrived home at our small apartment in Port Deposit, Maryland, my mother made us a special dinner and chocolate cake for dessert.  There was no place to do laundry so I had to use the bathtub to wash out our clothes.  I dried our clothes on a wash line hanging out our window - the kind with a pulley.  One day I dropped Roy's white Navy pants and, of course, they got dirty so I had to walk down three flights of stairs, bring them back up and wash them again.  Roy was discharged from the Navy in 1962 and we had our first son, Roy Jr.  We decided to move to Missouri, where he was from,  and lived there for 10 years.  Roy came to see me one day and said, "Honey, I think it's time we go back to Pennsylvania." I asked him why and he said that he didn't feel that his mother was treating me like she should, so back to Pennsylvania we came - and my family loved him.  We had two more sons named Robert and Richard.  Unfortunately, our oldest son, Roy Jr.. passed away from cancer at the age of 60.  We had been married for 64 years when Roy passed away. By God's grace and listening to gospel muisic, I am doing well, but I miss him terribly.  Before he passed away, he told me that he was going to walk real slow so I could catch up with him in heaven.  I reminded him that I had my own health issues so it probably wouldn't be all that long and life will be perfect with God.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "In Honor Of George Kinzo Kaneko" Story

It was an ordinary day.  There is a fellow in the city of Lancaster, Pennsylvania named Len Eiserer who is a collector of trees and tree tales!  In Lancaster city, there's a ginkgo tree that's grown big enough to be a state champion, but it's size isn't what most impresses Len Eiserer.  This tree's pedigree is also worth noting:  It was planted nearly 130 years ago to honor the sudden death of a young scholar, far from his home in Japan and his family who were among the last of the samurai.  The tree's old in human years, but its endurance is what captivates Len, a collector of tree tales.  Trees like this live thousands of years.  "These trees will outlast the  city of Lancaster, America.  I mean, the republic of Rome was 900 years," he says.  "These are permanent living monuments, cultural monuments.  When you know the history, that surpasses anything else you find in Lancaster."  This ginkgo and its brethren trees can be admired for their size, their beauty, their shade and their fruit in some cultures. They've also inspired Lancaster's newest arboretum.  The space has more than 120 trees, including a bald cypress that might be a souvenir from a World's Fair and a state champion European horse chestnut.  Admission is free and the residents are quiet!  Lancaster Cemetery is now celebrating its new designation as an arboretum as of Saturday, October 12.  Lancaster Cemetery was founded in 1846 by the First Reformed Church and later became nondenominational.  The space stretches over 22 acres in northeast Lancaster city, between New Holland and Park Avenues.  The cemetery's entrance is hard to miss; it was designed by Lancaster's own C. Emlen Urban.  Also hard to miss are the cemetery's trees, which have enough space for many to grow quite large.  The cemetery board talked about the beauty of the trees and explored what it takes to become an arboretum.  There is a category just for cemeteries, including Arlington National Cemetery, which covers 639 acres.  Arlington is actually an arboretum.  The cemetery in Lancaster already met some of the criteria, including having a governing board, having public access and having at least 25 species, varieties or cultivars of trees or woody plants.  A local tree group counted 125 varieties to create the required arboretum plan.  Hopefully, the trees and honor of becoming an arboretum could bring people to explore one of Lancaster's largest green spaces.  It has been said that cemeteries are for the living!  The list of trees includes fruit trees and trees large enough to be champions.  What's missing, though, is why they were planted. Ten ginkgo trees can be traced to George Kinzo Kaneko who came to Lancaster from Japan as a teenager to study at Franklin & Marshall Academy, a college prep school in the mid-1880s.  Mr. Kaneko was buried in Franklin & Marshall's college plot in Lancaster Cemetery.  Later, ginkgo trees were sent from Japan to the college and the cemetery in his honor.  The male trees grew uninterrupted at the cemetery while the female trees planted at the college produced fruit with a stone smell and made the ground slippery.  These trees were eventually moved to the cemetery with the others.  Those original trees have multiplied to 10.  Some bear fruit, but that hasn't been a problem at the cemetery.  Shortly another ginkgo tree will be planted in honor of Mr. Kaneko in the cemetery.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.