THE SPELLING BEE


It’s now 1am on Wednesday. I typed most of this on board Delta 1160 from Sacramento to Atlanta and then will connect to Chicago. Just arrived at hotel. A short little 14 hour day from the hotel in California to the hotel in the Chicago area. Such fun. It’s great to be retired.

In the airport today I realized I am becoming increasingly aware of the huge numbers of people in our country that are overweight, no doubt in part due to a few of my recent rides on planes with jolly seatmates. It is such a tragedy. I think it is going to really hurt our country over time by placing such a burden on our medical system. And I just keep thinking about how they are going to die younger than they would have if they kept the weight off and that is so sad for their families. I know some of it is hereditary but in some cases, that may be a cop out. It can’t be all hereditary. Some of it is just a lack of discipline and willpower. If you watch how many people in an airport just eat crap you realize the direction we are headed.

On another topic, if you haven’t seen the video of what happens when you drop Mentos into Diet Coke, go to this website. These guys are hysterical:

(Click here for the video)

And then there was the article on the front page of the New York Times today about the huge amount of fraud committed during the Katrina aftermath. I have put a quote from the article below-note the guys’ name:

One Louisiana Department of Labor clerk, Wayne P. Lawless, has been charged with issuing about 80 fraudulent disaster unemployment benefit cards in exchange for bribes of up to $300 per application

Mr. “Lawless”! How funny and appropriate is that?

Like my daughter wrote in her Blog today, I don’t have a lot to write about of substance, which of course suggests that I think sometimes when I write there is substance, a claim that many of you would likely want to challenge me on.

On another issue, isn’t it great what Warren Buffett did this week? That is wonderful news for the world. It also may end up being good news for Freedom From Hunger, the organization I STILL WANT ALL OF YOU TO MAKE A DONATION TO. When we had our Board meeting this last weekend we spent a good part of the time on our progress on a $4 million dollar grant that the Gates Foundation gave us to help improve the health of children in three different countries. If we are successful, we likely can get more and now there is a bigger pot of money. Good for Warren Buffett for doing this. We did not know about it when we were meeting this weekend as it had not been announced.

A woman I know from the health insurance industry, Cheryl Scott, became the COO of the Gates Foundation just a month ago. This has to be exciting news for her.

Andrea was Blogging about how people make spelling errors a day or two ago. When I was in the 5th, 6th, 7th and 8th grades (I became too cool to do it in high school) I was always in spelling bees. I did great in them. My Mom would spend hours and hours drilling me on these huge long lists of words before I would enter the City or County spelling bee. In 5th grade I got knocked out of the finals by spelling the word Qualm wrong, likely because the man didn’t know how to pronounce it (it couldn’t have been my error). Then in sixth grade I got knocked out in the finals again by the guy mispronouncing the word “writhe”. He pronounced it as if the “w” was silent so of course I missed it. He’s lucky Andrea hadn’t been born yet. She loves to complain about how people pronounce words (and spell them).

But my greatest moment in spelling history was in 7th grade when I got to go to some finals in Gallup, New Mexico. There, having spelled correctly words like biograpplingishness and philocharstenburgging I neared the end of the finals. I proudly marched up on the stage to the microphone and with great anticipation I listened anxiously to the announcer say “Pleasant”. I couldn’t believe it. An easy word. I said into the microphone to the hushed and anxious audience: “Pleasant, P, L, E, A, S, E, N, T Pleasant!” and confidently waited for them to acknowledge my victorious answer and the woman, a nun, calmly said “I’m sorry Son”.

First of all, she was a nun. It was unlikely I was her son. Second, I knew she had misread the proper spelling and I even realized she had a certain twang in her pronunciation that likely caused me to put an ENT on the end instead of the ANT. But, of course, this was all for naught as the jerks made me sit down, scarring me forever emotionally.

It was not a pleasant experience and continues to burden me with almost daily nightmares. I guess I should say nightly nightmares. I have wondered if the decrease in the number of women called to join the convent is somehow related to what happened that day in Gallup. It may be that the word got around the Convent Circuit about how a nun mispronounced the word and prevented me from becoming President of the United States as I never had the self confidence that I could do it if I couldn’t even spell.

And of course, to add insult to injury, instead of returning home to Kingman and St. Mary’s school where I would have been met with a ticker tape parade, throngs of adoring fans and a likely sure date with Linda Alvarado had she not screwed up. Instead, I ended up returning to school, head hanging low as I took my seat in the 7th grade row (it was a small school-each grade had a row and 3 rows to a Classroom so three grades in each Classroom. The first day back the nun (a different one) asked us to open our spelling books to that weeks practice words, and like the neon lights of the Tijuana whorehouses, there was the word flashing in my face. Yes, the kid that could spell everything missed the word that was on his class’s weekly spelling list.

This is not a good memory. Some time I will Blog on how I made sure justice was finally done. In the meantime, I have been eating fresh cherries on the plane while I typed this. We stopped and bought some at a roadside stand in Vacaville (Cow Village?) on the way to Sacramento. Ignoring the red stains on my nice shirt, I will have to say that the cherries were a little like lying on a couch in a Therapist’s office. It seemed to help me finally come out in the open with this difficult memory from my past. I know now, after this experience today, that I have overcome my affliction of SBS (spelling bee syndrome).

105 DEGREES AND HEADED HIGHER?

Interesting week. Monday I went to a Marketing Committee meeting of the Actuarial Association in Chicago. For whatever reason, the thing that sticks out the most of that day is the realization that there is almost a McDonald’s on every corner.

The thing that sticks out from that evening was that as I was being upgraded from my exit row aisle seat (very wide and comfortable) in Coach Class to the First Class seat I was given because I was first on the wait list (on my Delta flight home to Atlanta), there was a purported computer foul-up and they gave my First Class seat to someone else as well as my previously assigned exit row aisle seat. I then ended up with a middle seat in the second to the last row (Row 35) between Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus.

But it was a beautiful day out I thought so I could endure two hours. It turns out it was beautiful in Chicago and in Atlanta but not in between. We sat on the tarmac on a runway for over two hours. It was only 94 degrees outside but because we sat there so long, they were concerned they would run low on fuel so they would turn the A/C off every ten minutes.

Nearly 5 and a half hours after getting on the plane we landed in Atlanta. Not a good trip. Fortunately, in taking the Metro home I was not mugged which I thought would be a fitting end to the day.

I spent Tuesday and part of Wednesday doing almost nothing but emails. I have concluded I have to do this Blog or emails. I cannot keep up with 150 emails a day and do this Blog. You can see which is winning today.

Wednesday afternoon I flew to Sacramento. I again missed the upgrade by one spot. Due to strong headwind it took five and a half hours and for two and a half there was so much turbulence (it’s that time of year) that they would let no one out of their seat. Man, I really had to pee. I stayed at the Hyatt in Sacramento and they gave me a five room suite-very practical when I was by myself and arrived there at nearly midnight.

Thursday after working out I had lunch with Julie Kaye who I met in Hong Kong, saw in Buenos Aires and was just with in Prague. She helped Cathy get some very nice artwork in Prague which she just sent to us so I wanted to buy her lunch. Then I drove down to Davis, California, where it was only 102 degrees for dinner with Jonathon at an Afghan restaurant. The bill was $42 and I gave the guy $60 and he asked me if I wanted change! Duh! Did he think I was going to give him a 35% tip?

Today the temperature climbed to 105 and will be 108 tomorrow. It was beautiful and cool out at 630 this morning when I went for a walk and again at 930 tonight when I did that again after dinner. But in between, wow-it is hot!

I spent the day at Freedom From Hunger (FFH) meeting with the staff. I continue to be amazed by what they do with limited resources. Tonight we had our Board of Trustees dinner and a presentation on our work in Ghana.

READ THIS-3,000 children under 5 years of age die EVERY DAY from Malaria. A $7.00 Insecticide Treated Mosquito Net (ITN) would save a third of those kids. That is one of many things we are trying to do but the magnitude of the task is overwhelming.

I love this organization. It is doing miraculous things with a group of very far left socially responsive people who have dedicated their lives (many are former Peace Corps) to trying to help people become self sufficient enough (meaning make at least $2 US per day) to not have their kids die from starvation. You just love and admire these people. I know I could easily get deeper involved in this organization over time as there is nothing I do that gives me the feeling of really helping to make a difference than this.

Tomorrow we have a Trustee Board meeting from 8am until 5pm and then at 630 we have our closing dinner. Cathy is flying out here tomorrow for the dinner. I have to give a toast to Jonathan Lewis and I think I will do it in Spanish as he is trying to learn Spanish. Much of the work of FFH is done in Mexico, Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia so knowing Spanish is an asset.

Sunday we go to Napa and are going to have lunch with Jean and Geoff, friends of mine that Cathy has not met but has heard me talk about a lot. I met them in Argentina. He is a lawyer who is from South Africa originally and she is the CEO of a Community Health Plan in San Francisco delivering health services to the poor. She is the daughter of a former Governor of Minnesota who was also a powerful politician in DC. I’m very excited that Cathy will finally get to meet them and vice versa.

Okay-if you are reading this, go now-don’t wait-PLEASE-go to this website:

Click here for Freedom From Hungers Website

and watch the videos (click on Video Notes)of our folks working with women in rural villages in West Africa and then make a donation. $100, $1,000 or $25-whatever you can afford. You will be helping people that are poor in a way that you will not find in our country. Our poorest of poor are wealthy by their standards. Anything you can do is very much appreciated by me.

TOMMY’S MOM

I just learned that Tommy Denmark’s Mom, Elma, passed away this week in Birmingham. I didn’t know Elma, but I know Tommy and he is a good guy. I have mentioned in this Blog before that I think he would be an interesting guy to write a book about his life. Our friend Curtis said that he was almost raised by Elma and he and Tommy are very close so our heart goes out to Curtis as well as Tommy, Rosalie and their families.

This saddens me because Elma had lived in New Orleans all her life (I think she was in her mid-80’s) until Katrina. She lost her home as did others in their family. Tommy and Rosalie took her to Birmingham to start a new life but Tommy said his Mom just could not make the adjustment, her heart breaking for her beloved New Orleans.

We are sorry Tommy. We are keeping all of you in our thoughts and prayers.

FATHERS DAY, 2006

I’m in Chicago today, sitting at my office catching up on things. It seems a little weird on Fathers Day but it is what it is.

Cathy and I flew up here yesterday after our return Thursday evening from the trip to Jackson Hole. It was nice to be back in Atlanta for a day and two nights. Sometimes I feel like I don’t know where I live, but that is no one’s fault but my own. Of the 169 nights so far this year, I have been in Atlanta only 68 of them. That is a huge improvement over last year, but still not most people’s definition of retirement, semi or otherwise.

We flew up here yesterday because Ann Marcuccilli is the head of a Charity event at Ragdale Art Center http://www.ragdale.org/ and I knew it would mean a lot to her and Brinke if we attended. Last year we went and had a great time.

As it turned out, we had many friends there since Dave and Rosemary as well as Warren and Sharon were there along with Brinke and Ann and for a real surprise, Tom and Michelle flew up from Tom's ranch in Texas to join us. It was a great time. We purchased two small paintings and tried to buy a one weeks stay for me at Ragdale to do some writing (I would love to do that) but after bidding up to $1,800 we gave up. The only reason we went that high is because Tom said he would split it with me (the cost) and then let me attend. That tells you a lot about what a good guy Tom is. They invited us to bring the kids and come to a rodeo at Tom's ranch over Labor Day as Lee will be visiting us from London so we are going to try and make that happen.

Lee, won't it be fun to see a Brit in the bull riding competition? I bet you will do great. I will sign you up.

Which reminds me that I still owe Tom some money from when he and I were in Dubai a year and a half ago. He came back to the US with pockets full of Dirhams and you can't exchange them in our country. So, last September, I took them and exchanged them in Amsterdam but I keep forgetting to give him his money! Another example of what a good guy he is.

Cathy flew back this morning as I have to stay to attend an Actuarial Foundation meeting tomorrow and then I will fly home. So, that is the reason I am here by myself on Fathers Day. She certainly would normally have stayed here also but Andrea’s cats are going to be picked up tomorrow for their journey over to London so she had to be home tonight.

I had a long talk with the cats (Tyson and his brother Kimball) before I left yesterday as I wanted to tell them goodbye. I told them they would see Mama (Andrea) soon, have more room to move around and that most of the people would talk funny and perhaps the cats there would also, but that they would be able to understand Andrea. I told them we would see them in September, to travel safe and to continue to work on their weight reduction program.

They just sat there and stared at me-I think they were really listening and really pondering and processing all that I told them.

I guess as a Father I should think about my role as a Father when I am journaling about Fathers Day. But I have more of a tendency to think about my Dad. He passed away in 1991 and I still miss him. I always go by the cemetery when I am in Kingman and visit with him where his ashes are resting. Below is a photo of he and my Mom taken in September, 1974 when they were named Managers of the Month by Rodeway Inns, the employer they worked for.


My parents, September, 1974

As I think back, I am so glad I was close to my Dad. I never took a job, never accepted a promotion, never had anything happen that was important to me or my family that I didn’t immediately call him up and tell him about it and he was always so happy, so supportive and so proud. We never know when our parents are going to be gone, but it always feels sudden. I’m glad I never regretted the interaction and the relationship I had with him. He always called me Punkin although I never knew why. I always called him Pop.

He was the opposite of my Mom, who I wrote about on Mothers Day. He worried about everything-she rarely worries about anything. He did not have a strong work ethic as he was a thinker more than a doer-my Mom worked her butt off all her life. He was intellectual and she was practical. He was as stubborn as it was possible to be on some things and as loving and caring of his family as any human being can be.

He had a horrible childhood. His Dad died when he was five in the Influenza Pandemic of 1918. His Mom was an alcoholic who abandoned him as a child several times. We have a newspaper article from long ago when he was 8 or 9. There was a photo on the front page of this newspaper showing him being found on the street selling newspapers and trying to fend for himself. His Mom died of alcoholism in 1949 and they couldn’t locate us so that my Dad could go to his Mom’s funeral. I can’t imagine how horrible that would be.

He always wanted me to learn things. He taught me about gardening, about stamp collecting, about keeping accounting ledgers, about how to treat customers and a hundred thousand other things. He would play catch with me when he was not in good physical shape and his arm would be sore for days after that. Because he had agoraphobia, there were many activities of mine that he couldn’t attend or participate in. He never left the house for years until my high school graduation when he came and stood for a short time in the back. That really meant a lot to me. I think he tried to make up for not being able to go see me do things by always being interested in them.

He had the most beautiful handwriting I’ve ever seen. Not a trait that he passed on to me for sure. This was also not a trait that skipped generations and ended up as a talent of our son Grover. He kept the most detailed ledgers-he was an accountant through and through. He would plant his garden and keep a daily journal of what was planted when, what the temperature was every day, when the first veggie was harvested and anything else that could be tracked. He would have loved to have had a computer and Excel spreadsheet software.

I remember when my sister, Janet Sue, died at birth. At the time I had just been operated on for colon cancer and the Doctors had told him it was unlikely I would make it for more than a year or so. This came soon after my Grandmother died and he missed the funeral. Then Janet died. I don’t think my Dad was ever the same. He never quite knew how to relate to girls and I think he knew he missed his chance when Janet didn’t survive. I went to the funeral with him as Mom was still in the hospital and to this day, when I think about it, I can feel his pain and sadness surging through my body as we both approached the casket and bent down and kissed this beautiful little baby goodbye forever.

I know it meant so much to him when our son Grover was born and we named him after my Dad. While I go by Jr. and Grover goes by the Third, my Dad was actually James Grover Thomas, III and I was the Fourth and Grover the Fifth. Despite my Dad’s agoraphobia, and despite the fact that for more than a decade he never left where we lived, when his namesake Grover was born he gutted it out and learned not only to leave the motel where we lived, but to get on an airplane and fly over a thousand miles to see us. Grover was that important to him. He had not been able to leave the motel where we lived to get a haircut, yet he got on a plane and flew to see us.

He treated both my brother and me as if we were the most important young boys in the world, and I guess to him, we were. And as I sit here and type this, tears are streaming down my cheeks and I am so glad I am alone in my office in Chicago on Fathers Day, 2006.

Happy Fathers Day Pop! I miss you.

Before we left Atlanta yesterday Cathy gave me Andrea’s beautiful card and gifts. They mean so much to me. In the middle of her move and all that is going on, she found time to arrange that. Cathy is going to give me her presents (I’m hoping for a new Mazzeratti or Porsche) when I get back home tomorrow. I told her I wanted to wait until Monday instead of on Saturday so that I had something to look forward to while I was alone today. Grover called me first thing this morning to wish me Happy Father’s Day and I just talked to Andrea a little while ago. She and Lee had just returned from Oxford for the weekend where they were “punting” on the river. Grover said that he had taken Landon to play putt-putt golf for the first time today and Landon made a hole in one. Landon knew he was supposed to be happy but probably was not sure why.

Of course, I am a Father also and enormously proud of Grover and Andrea and like all good Grandfathers, I think Landon and Wes are just the cutest, smartest kids in the solar system. It would be nice if we could all be together today but that is not the lives any of us live. We also have two other children who while not our children by birth, are our children just the same: Gustavo who lives with his wonderful wife Dorte in Copenhagen and of course, Cris, Grover’s wife and the mother of our two grandsons. Wes was five months old yesterday and here is a photo taken of him on that special day. It seems that as a Grandfather I ought to be able to put Wes’ photo on my Blog today!


Wes on his five month birthday sitting on the Chair Barbara and Harvey gave him

Cris just called me a little while ago to wish me Happy Father's Day while I was writing this and we had a long talk (especially for me since I am wordy when I write but curt and short on the phone) and I was really glad she called. Grove was with the boys buying pizza so she had some time to visit on the phone.

I have a story about my Dad. All of you who are friends know how incredibly jumpy I am. Read my last post about the Dead Body and you will know for sure. Back in the 80’s when I was getting my MBA, I would go upstairs and lie on the bed and study. If I did that now I would flunk out as I would fall asleep but back then I could actually be stretched out on the bed and stay awake to study.

My parents were visiting from Arizona and were at our house one evening. I was upstairs in our bedroom on our bed studying Finance or some other sexy subject. Grover and Andrea (who knew how jumpy I was) snuck up the steps and took this little rubber ball and rolled it from the hall where they were across the bedroom floor. It was only the size of a ball you use to play jacks with, but I saw it shoot across the floor out of the corner of my eye and for reasons I cannot explain, I thought it was a Weasel. I flew off the bed, screamed at the top of my lungs “There’s a weasel in the room” and, with my heart pumping furiously, I flew out of the room. My Dad came running up, stepping over Grover and Andrea who were rolling on the floor laughing there bratty little heads off. I was in Andrea’s room cowering in the corner and hyperventilating and my Dad said to the kids “A Weasel? What the hell is wrong with your Father anyway?”

About a week later a nearly identical thing happened except the kids were not to blame. I was again on the bed, again studying, and I was leaning against some big pillows. The TV was on, but the sound was muted and the remote control was lying on the top of one of these pillows. As I shifted my weight, the remote control slid suddenly down the pillow and it scared the living shit out of me. For some reason, I was convinced there was a Mongoose on the bed with me. Again I entertained the rest of my family with screams of sheer terror. The good news was that my Mom and Dad were not there at the moment.

So, Grover, as it is Father’s Day I wish you a Happy Father’s Day also and hope that someday, Landon and Wes will get my revenge by doing something like that to you and many years later, you too will laugh at how silly you reacted much as I am doing right now as I think about how dumb I can be at times with this jumpiness. This, I might add, contrary to what Andrea and Cathy constantly tell me, is not something I can control.

Happy Fathers Day to me, to you Grove, and to all the other Fathers out there who are reading this.

THE DEAD BODY IN MY HOTEL ROOM


Several postings back I mentioned the time when I found a dead body in my hotel room. My Mom said she had not heard that story and would like to hear it so here it is. My family can attest to this as they have heard it a thousand times and know that it is one of my weirder experiences.

It was in Philadelphia, about 1986 or early 1987. I was on the Executive Committee of an organization known as The National Second Mortgage Association, the industry trade group for Home Equity lenders. We were having a meeting there at a hotel-it may have been the Omni but I am not sure.

I had arrived very late the night before and I wanted to get up early to go for a run. I slept longer than I planned so when I woke up I was very frustrated that I didn’t have time to run. I knew we had a dinner that night after the meeting but thought there might be enough time between the end of the meeting and dinner for me to get a nice run in. So I laid out on the bed my running pants (it was cold out), a sweatshirt and my gloves and went to the meeting.

The meeting was boring and I was having trouble keeping awake so I thought it would be a mistake to eat lunch. So I took the subway down to a Magic Supply store and bought some magic tricks. I was coming back on the subway when I became aware that the only people on my subway car were me and four young thug troublemakers. Sure enough, as the car was moving, they came over and started hassling me. They wanted to know what was in the bag. I would have gladly given them the plastic magic wand (I wanted to jam it up their butts) and a deck of cards but knew that if I did that my wallet and watch would be next). They started giving me smart talk about being a white boy in the wrong part of town and I realized I had a problem. However, about then I saw that we were coming into a station. Right as we arrived I screamed “Officer, over here” and as the four of them turned their heads to look at the non-existent officer, I bolted. I would never be able to do this today but this was back in my running days so I tore to the other end of the car, flew out the door and literally jumped over the little fence as there were people coming into the turnstile that would block me. I ran up the stairs and didn’t stop running (I was wearing a suit) for about five blocks. I was shaking like a leaf.

I got back to the hotel right when the meeting was starting up again so I went right to the meeting and didn’t take the magic up to my room. I shared the story with the other folks there and all afternoon felt pretty shook up and nervous as I thought about what could have happened to me. I didn’t have any trouble staying awake in the meeting, that’s for sure.

The meeting got over at 4 and by now I had forgotten I was going to go run. I went up to my room, opened the door and there was a dead man (or at least I assumed he was dead as he wasn’t moving) on my bed. I screamed so loud I could have woke him up from the dead. I just kept screaming for what seemed like five minutes. I had slammed the door shut and was standing in the hall, shaking and screaming at the top of my lungs. Several people came out of their rooms and I told them there was a dead body in my room. This was just too much fright in one day for my system to handle and I was in overload. Someone called Security and they came running up. I was shaking so bad I couldn’t explain it to the guard. Finally, he asked me to open the door. I was afraid to as I didn’t want to see the dead guy but I finally put my key in and opened the door. As I looked in, with the Guard right behind me trying to look over my shoulder, and about a dozen onlookers waiting in the hallway to see who was dead, I saw my running clothes and in a split second thought to myself “Oh my God. You dumb shit! You have made a horrible mistake here Grover. How are you going to explain this? They will lock you up in an asylum.”

I pulled the door shut as quick as I could and turned to the guard and said “He escaped. He must have gone out the window”. He wanted in and I said “No, I know he is gone”. But I had to let him in. He walked in and checked the window-unfortunately I was on the 35th floor or so. I needed another explanation besides the window escape. I told him “Look under the beds” which he did, likely asking himself how a dead person could get under the bed or jump out of a window. There was no damn way I was going to admit what happened. I then told him to look in the closet and the bathroom which he did.

He kept looking at me like I was nuts. I wonder why? Thank goodness I had a suit on. That always makes you look saner than you really are. I know thatfor a fact because I’ve worked for some people that wore suits every day and I know they were out of their minds.

I asked him if it was a connecting room and he said no. I was running out of ideas. In the meantime, an even bigger crowd was gathering in the hallway. So I looked at them and yelled “Did any of you see someone leave this room?” No one did. So the guard asked me to describe this dead body. I complied and made up a description as I just could not bring myself to say that I had seen my running clothes on the bed and jumped to the conclusion that it was a dead body. He dutifully took down notes, thanked me and I am sure went down to the lobby and said “We have a real Fruitcake in 3517”.

I went out and ran without incident and as I was running I started thinking about this and it may have been one of the best laughs I ever had in my life. I was laughing so hard I couldn't run. I had to come back and call home and share my antics.

So, Mom, that is the dead body story.

Favorite number one


Favorite number two

RUDY, MITT AND JACKSON HOLE

Spent the last five days in San Diego at the AHIP conference. Had a good meal at Chive and a good meal at Laurel and a couple of not so good ones. Had a beautiful view of the harbor from our room at the Marriott which AHIP gave me as Chairman. Went for a couple of nice walks although the convention center was about a 20 minute round trip each time we went.

The business stuff was good and my Company gave away a new bright red Pontiac convertible in the exhibit hall so that created a ton of buzz. Had a wonderful time at Restaurant Laurel with Charles from AHIP and his partner Neil and we invited Julie, Nancy and Warren to join us. It was a great evening and we closed the place up.

Met Governor Mitt Romney at a private breakfast for him we held and he reminds me of Bill Clinton (who I met last year at this meeting) as a Presidential candidate. Both are good looking, very poised, very charismatic, excellent speakers, smart and well informed on the issues, engaging when you meet them personally and one of them is (at least as far as we know now), honest and has good values. He was non-committal as to whether he will run in 2008.

Also met and had our photo taken with Giuliani and then we sat next to him at lunch and visited. He is better looking in person than on TV, easy to talk to, cared deeply for his Dad and the federal bureaucracy drives him nuts. He spoke for over an hour on leadership and did a good job. He also did not comment on whether he will run.

Yesterday we flew to Jackson Hole and are staying in Teton Village for five nights. Had my first Bison Sirloin last night for dinner and it was great. Saw a Mama Moose and her baby strolling along from the rooms’ balcony right after we arrived. It is 35 here this morning and there is still snow on the mountains. It might be one of the most beautiful places I have seen. Has the feel of Patagonia.

I have a million things to write and can’t remember any of them so will just stop for now.

THE BIRD ASSASSIN, THE SEARCH FOR THE VANISHED BUILDING AND CHER’S RESTAURANT.


He was getting ready to fling himself at me in the hopes of breaking the glass window. 



I’m in San Diego for five days for a meeting of AHIP. Since I’m Chairman I don’t have a lot of free time this week but wanted to share a few weird things.

The first is the photo above. Now, my friends and family reading this know that when using words to describe me, adjectives like “Fearless”, “Courageous”, “Brave”, etc do not flow off of their lips with ease.

To give you and idea, about 2am this morning I got up to go to the bathroom. I took a flashlight so I wouldn’t trip on something and wake Cathy. After I peed I turned around and flashed the light toward the door so I could see the handle. Unfortunately, there was a full length mirror on the door so I saw this strange man in striped pajamas coming at me with a bright light that I assumed was some kind of laser gun that would evaporate me. I screamed.

Fortunately, Cathy seemed to be asleep when I got back to the bed about ten minutes later. I was sweating profusely (it was a good thing I had gone to the bathroom before I saw him), hyperventilating and shaking like an earthquake. I cowered a while in the bathroom to recover my fright and also so I wouldn’t have to explain to her what happened. I’m hoping she will think she just dreamed it.

This is an on-going problem. More than once I have stepped out of a shower in a hotel room and looked outside of the bathroom door and suddenly saw a naked man standing near the closet ready to attack me and I have screamed. Of course the closets also have full length mirrors.

Some time I will have to share the time in Philadelphia, in 1986 or 1987 when I freaked upon finding a dead body in my hotel room.

Anyway, back to the killer bird in the photo. Last Friday was our Company board meeting in Lake Forest. I arrived at the office about 6am to do some emails before the board meeting started at 730. When I sit at the computer, behind it where I look out is a huge window looking on to a little patio I have. On the edge of the patio is a wall (to keep me from jumping off) and beyond that, a view of a lake and other office buildings.

Well, I am typing away about 715. Some of the directors have arrived and are stopping in my office to say hello. I am typing away and I hear this tapping on the glass-I look up and the bird above is staring in the window at me. I have never been so frightened. It was obviously trying to get in and with that huge beak, peck my eyes out. I screamed at the top of my lungs. A young woman who works in the legal department came running over-it was all quite embarrassing. So then the bird flitted (this bird must weigh 100 pounds so flit is not the write verb-perhaps lumbered would be better) from my window to the other side of my patio and so I ran and grabbed someone from our Corporate Communications department to come with their camera and take a photo. They took two-one is above and one is below. I was shaking like a leaf.

Several hours later the meeting was over and I had to walk out the front of the building to get in a car that was waiting to take me to the airport. I just new Vinnie (I decided to name him Vinnie the Vulture) was lurking in the eaves and would swoop down and carry me with his talons halfway to Gary, Indiana. So I peered out with my head and the driver saw me and came out and opened my door (to be polite-not because he knew about the bird) and I ran like crazy and jumped in. I figured it was better if he nailed the driver than me as he had more meat on him.

On another topic, Andrea found a church for the wedding. This was absolutely fabulous news for us. She had been looking but almost all Catholic churches have an evening Mass on Saturday and that is when she is getting married. But she found one and it could not be nicer or more in character with Andrea than it is. We met her there about a week before she moved to see it. The church is named The Catholic Shrine of the Immaculate Conception and is the oldest Catholic Church in Atlanta, being built in 1848.

(Click here for the history of the church)

It has a wonderful history that includes how it escaped being burned down by the Yankees during the Civil War. We all really liked the Monsignor and he was leaving soon for a vacation in Buenos Aires as some parishioners had given him free tickets. Because we know BA well he was excited to question us about what to see, what to eat, etc.

We toured the church and decided this was so Andrea and she went ahead and put down the deposit. She cannot have a Mass since Lee is not Catholic but we will still have the ceremony there. I understand Lee has some concern about them trying to convert him but do not worry about it Lee. The worst part is when they hang you upside down by your feet as they dangle your head right above the water in the baptismal fount. This is also an Old Catholic tradition that causes your money to fall out of your pockets and into the waiting basket being held by one of the church elders.

Two days later, on Sunday, the three of us went to Mass at the Shrine to see what it was like with people in it and we liked it even more.

Andrea is so afraid I will cry when I walk her down the aisle. I am now sure, after that Mass that I probably will. There is something about Catholic churches that always provoke some very powerful emotions in me. I think it is because I always think of going to church with my parents when I was little and being so proud of my Dad because he was an usher. Now when I go to church I spent most of the time in a funk. I won’t be in a funk on Andrea’s wedding because I am so happy for her, but it will still be emotional. Sitting there that Sunday just thinking about it made me teary three different times during the Mass. I’m just going to wear dark sunglasses as I walk her down the aisle and she and Cathy are considering some serious tranquilizers for me.

Later that same day Andrea and I went on a wild goose chase. About a month ago I was coming home on MARTA from the airport and I saw an old dilapidated building, many stories tall, that was about to fall down. It looked like it would make a great black and white photo so we took our cameras and went down to find it and take some photos. After a couple of hours we gave up. We could not find it but we did have a good tour of the south side of Atlanta, not exactly the pride and joy of the city. We came to one very rough area where guys were standing around on the street corners up to no good and there was an official sign that said “Welcome to Mechanicsville, Home of Seeds and Weeds”. Andrea started laughing about how appropriate a name it was given the guys on the corner and of course it took me a minute to get the humor. Now she and I are going to have to have a Father-Daughter talk since I didn’t know she was aware of things like that.

Finally, there is this incredible restaurant in Atlanta that is part of a West Coast chain called FatBurger. I’ve probably written about it somewhere in the Blog. It is the most delicious food (meaning lots of fat) and the best hamburger around. So I read that Cher is one of the owners. Doesn’t it seem a little weird when you put “Cher and FatBurger” together? She is obviously not eating her own dog food.

Enough for now. It is 7am in San Diego so it is 3pm in London and I want to call Andrea before I go to my board meetings. Here is the other photo of Vinnie.


Waiting for me to come out to get into the car. 

My now Grown up "Tootsie Roll" 

LIKE ELVIS, ANDREA AND STEGGY HAVE LEFT THE BUILDING

I haven’t put anything on my Blog for about ten days as it has been a difficult time and I didn’t want to express my feelings until this was behind us. I was up early this morning watching on the internet as Andrea’s plane touched down in London and she began her new life.

Cathy and I were living in Phoenix in 1968 when we lost our first child to a miscarriage but in 1970 we were blessed with the wonderful birth in Tulsa, Oklahoma of my namesake, our son Grover. Five years later we were living in New Orleans and just being transferred to Chicago when we learned Cathy was pregnant again.

On September 22, 1975, at the hospital in Elk Grove Village, Illinois, our daughter Andrea Yvette was born. Her birth changed my life. I had never been around a little girl as my only sister, Janet Sue, had died at birth. I had no idea what to expect.

Since then we have been blessed with a wonderful family as a result of our two kids and the addition first of Gustavo to our family and later Cris and then our two wonderful grandsons, Landon Conrad Thomas and Westel Grover Thomas have fulfilled us. Soon Lee will be joining our family (in January, 2007).

But this story is about Andrea, not about the entire family.

We were living in Clifton Park, New York (a suburb of Albany) when Andrea's second birthday came around. I remember that I was staying at the Lord Cromwell Inn near Middletown Connecticut on business that week. I remember it because this Inn burned to the ground later. I went to a store and bought Andrea a stuffed Stegosaurus (she named him Steggy) that became her constant companion. For so many years she carried it with her all over the world. She took it with her to college and when she and I went to Ireland on a trip together in 1999 or so. She took it with her to Asia, to Europe so many times, to New Zealand and to South America. She finally almost wore it out and a couple of years ago I searched and searched the Internet and found her another one. She took either the old one or the new one (I can’t recall) with her when she and I went to hike the Atacama Desert in Northern Chile and on to Easter Island.

Nearly 31 years after she was born and 29 years after I bought her that little stegosaurus, Andrea and Steggy have moved to London to start their new life with the love of her life, the man of her dreams, an extraordinarily quiet redheaded guy named Lee who we like a lot and believe, after meeting his family and spending more time with him, is a man of good values and will treat Andrea the way she deserves to be treated.

That is not meant to suggest this transition has been easy. There have been lots of tears this week and all 3 of us were a wreck yesterday. The airport goodbye was just pure hell. Andrea was crying, I was crying and Cathy was having a complete meltdown. I am sure all the people looking at us (and there were many) thought there had been a death in the family.

As we walked out of the airport the only thing I could say was “She must really love him” and that is good. She has given up her career, she has given up having a car, given up a beautiful four bedroom home she owned, given up having her own income, given up living close to her family and friends to move to a different country to live with her future husband in a two bedroom apartment and no car and no income or career. My Mom made a similar sacrifice many years ago and she has been Andrea's inspiration and role model. I am proud of Andrea for this. It shows how much they care about each other. It’s a good thing because this is going to be very difficult at times.

Andrea said that what made it so hard was that we had moved back to Atlanta a year ago and so she has spent the last year with us constantly since she lived only a mile from us. We agree, although as I told Cathy after Andrea left, I wouldn’t have traded that year for anything. It was worth the pain of separation. We had not had Andrea living near us since she left for college in 1993. This last year allowed us to get to know her not only as our daughter but as a mature woman who is also our friend. She is a combination of both of us. She is incredibly funny and I think I can be pretty damn funny at times so she gets that from me. She is a talker and anyone reading this Blog knows where she gets that. But the other 80% of her is all her Mother. She is her Mother’s daughter and that is one of the reasons this is so hard on me because I feel as if part of this is like losing Cathy.

This is so interesting to me because 80% of the way Grover is he gets from me and 20% from Cathy and it is just the opposite with Andrea. And I don’t think it is gender related-it just happens to be that way.

Those of you that know me well know I am quite anal about keeping things. I still have my daily calendars from the 70’s and can tell you where I was on what day (I verified my Lord Cromwell stay). Well, to give you an idea of the time we have spent with Andrea this last year, I just looked up on my PC and learned that since the first day we were back in Atlanta, almost one year ago,we charged over $7,000 on my AMEX at restaurants with Andrea. That doesn’t count the many dinners or lunches where we paid cash. The point is that the last year has been the same as if she was living with us when she was a teenager and that is what made the goodbye so hard yet made it worth all the pain.

As I have been typing this she has sent me a text letting me know she made it without incident and is with Lee. She was petrified the British authorities would not let her in as she has so many UK stamps in her passport and they are vigilant about stopping women from the USA moving over there to marry a British chap. But she said it was the easiest time she has ever had getting through customs there.

I also heard from Lee-they are now together and waiting for the train and he could not believe how many bags she had (160 pounds worth not including two huge carryon bags that were likely another 50 pounds). I told him that is exactly what I told her yesterday-I said “Lee will not believe all of the stuff you have” and those were his exact words in his text message to me. He also said she was quite cheery after the long flight-well, I wonder why? She has given up almost everything in her life to be with him so of course she is happy.

NOTE-remember my comment about her sense of humor? Well, it turns out that after I wrote the above comment about Lee, I talked to her on the phone at their apartment Sunday evening (their time) and it turns out she had told Lee to say that to me just to mess with me. He knew how much she was bringing as she had taken a photo of it and sent it to him. Very funny Andrea.

Now the good part comes this week-if he was surprised by all the bags, wait until the boxes that were shipped with several hundred pounds of her stuff arrive by FedEx. I wish I could be there to see the look on his face.

Cathy and I were walking all teary-eyed back to the cars last night at the airport and I told her I felt so selfish. This should not be about me or our feelings. It is about Andrea and Lee starting their lives together. And I know I have to put my own feelings of loss behind me. I haven’t lost a daughter-she will always be my daughter. I have just lost the daily time with her and that is part of life. I am truly so happy for her and I know Cathy is too. We are just going to miss her. She has told me that she will be moving back in two years or less. I know that says easy and does hard so I have decided to assume that she will not come back and then I won’t be disappointed. That is another thing that makes the goodbye so hard is forcing myself to believe this is permanent. If they do come back, then I will be surprised and ecstatic.

Our friends say that we travel so much it is not a problem to go see her. But this is not like flying to Los Angeles from Atlanta. It is 8 plus hours going over and nearly ten hours coming back with a five hour time change. You can’t easily pop over for a weekend. Yes, we are fortunate to have the means and the frequent flyer miles to do that but it is not the same as going to see Grove and his family in DC. And at some point in our lives, likely in the next ten years, we will no longer be able to do things like that so easily. But, just like this is a new life phase for Andrea and Lee, it is a new life phase for Cathy and me and all the other ones have turned out good and this one will also.

And so, to you Toots, I wish you, Steggy and Lee well and can’t wait to see you both in Madrid in 39 more days. I hope you like some of the photos I have put below of our times together.


Madrid for Luis' surprise 82nd birthday. Faltan Teresa (Ella sacó la foto), Grove, Cris y Landon, que tenia dos meses. 


Your 26th birthday outside of your favorite restaurant in DC-the Kabob Bazaar a


Together in one of hundreds of airports we've shared-this one is in Sioux Falls of all the bizarre places! 


Mitchell, South Dakota and the Corn Palace 


Together in Ljubliana, Slovenia (check out the tee shirt from Singapore) 


Together at St. Mark's in Venice 


At your surprise 30th birthday party 


You and me heading to the Atacama Desert on the Chile/Bolivian border 


You and me after the Peachtree, July 4th, 2005-my 16th and your first. 


You, Cris and Mom in Copenhagen at Gustavo and Dorte's wedding. You all three are so beautiful. I Love this photo. 


You and me at top of mountain with Machu Pichu in the background behind us. 


Us together in front of Ahu Tahai on Easter Island. 


You, Grove and me snowmobiling in Red River on Thanksgiving. 


Together in front of the castle we stayed at in Scotland-rain, rain, rain!