Once in a blue moon…black helicopters and missing money

When I was growing up I thought the phrase “once in a blue moon” meant something very special and very rare. Now I understand that not only is the moon NOT blue, but that a blue moon occurs, on average, every 2.7 years. It can even happen twice in a single calendar year.

Still, the occasion of a blue moon seems an appropriate time to reflect on a couple of things that happened this past week, both of them surprising and rare.

First, I experienced black helicopters. Okay, not the silent stealth helicopters that figure in conspiracy theory. These were fairly loud, quite visible, and announced in advance: U.S. Special Operations Command would be carrying out urban training exercises all week in St. Paul and Minneapolis, using Black Hawk and Hughes 500 helicopters as part of the maneuvers.

Still, sitting outdoors at a minor league baseball game, it can be jarring when three military helicopters in perfect formation to come flying over the stadium from beyond the right field line before moving off toward downtown Minneapolis. Six more sets followed, alternating in groups of three and four. It was an odd sensation. They looked serious, loaded, ready for business. Some people seemed to react, as I did, with a little chill. It reminded me a bit of walking out my front door in Milwaukee in 1968 to see a National Guard tank rolling down the middle of the street. There had been rioting, the Guard was there to keep the peace, and I had not felt comforted. Seeing the Black Hawks overhead this week, I thought for just a second what could happen now, if society broke into open fighting or if an occupying force, foreign or domestic, moved in.

It was only a momentary chill, and quite clearly not everyone shared it. Many were simply surprised, and some smiled and waved as each helicopter went over. I could understand the impulse, because today in America we are very much into saluting and thanking our armed forces. But these special ops teams were not out for a sight-seeing tour. They were in serious training, and somehow it seemed wrong, or at least odd, to wave.

I learned from comments on a web site that the helicopters spent a lot of time in downtown Minneapolis and Saint Paul, buzzing the tall buildings and landing on rooftops. Reactions ranged from “Cool!” to “What’s happening—I’m scared!”

I think it’s fair to say this will happen only once in a blue moon.

My second rare and surprising experience: I got back some “unclaimed assets.” Have you seen the long lists of names in the newspapers, where the state says these people have money coming to them? I gave up checking them because I never saw my name there, and really, why would it be?

A few weeks ago my brother Allen, who works for the State of Minnesota, told me he saw my name, with an old address, on missingmoney.com, the website that Minnesota now uses in place of the names-in-a-newspaper system. Sure enough, it was my name and my address, and it said I was owed “More than $100.” The party owing me money was an insurance company with whom I’d had my first life insurance policy. When I saw that, something clicked. I’d seen a notice about policyholders being owed money in a distribution of assets, but I had dismissed it.

All I had to do now was enter some contact information plus, ahem, my Social Security number. That gave me pause. I began checking the authenticity of the site. I could find no complaints online, no mention of scams. In fact, reputable financial writers referred to this service as useful, and recommended checking one’s own name as well as older relatives who might have a forgotten old savings account or a distribution that couldn’t reach them because a company that owed them money only had an old address. Wait, that sounded familiar.

So I filled in the online form, which was submitted to the Minnesota Department of Commerce, and I said to my husband, “Wonder whether I’ll ever hear from them.”

This week I got a check from the state. For nearly $800.

That, too, will probably only happen once in a blue moon. But I am encouraged by the fact that blue moons aren't as scarce as I once thought.

One reason I am a blissed-out grandma

Each day when we're together, ViMae asks, "Do you want to play Mom and Kid?" "Of course," I say, and suddenly I am The Kid. I have no actual kid name, and my age varies from one to ten. It is often Kid's birthday, a good excuse for a play tea party.

In fact, we can play anything just the way we usually do, except periodically Vi says something in her Mom character and I respond in kind.

A couple of weeks ago we were playing with Play-Doh, feathers, and pipe cleaners, and she carried on a long conversation with her bird/Princess Leia creation. Seeing the nice light, I grabbed my camera and snapped away. She pretended not to notice.

When she was done playing and I stopped shooting, she asked innocently, "What were you doing, Kid?" I'm pretty sure she knew. And now I'm sharing.

Finding my voice: three years of blogging

Today marks the third anniversary of my blog--the "leather" anniversary, according to my friend Jayne, who celebrated hers last week.

This is a welcome time for an anniversary. I have been posting only every couple of weeks, and lately when I begin a draft it turns out to be about the weather. Granted, weather has been a worthy topic this summer, but my drafts weren't contributing to the discussion.

Checking my early posts, I found a bit of inspiration. Three years ago, I was writing without readers, hence without conversation. At least a few posts from back then are clamoring to be reintroduced, this time to a group of lovely people whose opinions and contributions I value greatly.

This blog has been an exercise in finding my own voice after a long career of writing in other people's voices. I wrote endlessly in the "institutional" voice on behalf of three colleges and universities. I wrote letters and speeches for college presidents, and a book in the voice of a long-time baseball player, and they all said I captured them well. But what about me?

Before I could start blogging, I had to persuade myself that I had something to share, and then I had to develop a writing style that conveyed what I wanted to say. I wanted to speak directly, from me to you, and before long I began to incorporate a bit of my casual conversational style. Briefly, I also tried out some of the sarcasm I enjoy when other folks do it, but I couldn't make it work for me. I learned to keep things short (sort of) and to write about more topics than just my grandchildren. I still work on my posts, but I no longer labor over them. Blogging feels much more comfortable now.

This summer, while recuperating from a broken leg, I was feeling that the best thing about blogging is reading others, not writing my own. But I think it's only fair to give back by writing and commenting, and I feel the energy returning. Thank you for everything that you share--ideas, comments, encouragement, wonderful bits of thought that make life richer.

Tempting the Laughing Gods

Me: The people organizing the Olympics opening ceremonies invited Keith Moon to come and play the drums. I guess they forgot that he died in 1978.

Augie: Can you get to the Olympics on an airplane? I’ll ask my Mom and Dad to take me there, because they need a drummer.

And in other news…

I’m free! After two months, I can throw away all the devices I relied on to get around, and walk on my own two feet.

Farewell, Cadillac splint!

I have jettisoned the bulky fiberglass splint I wore for a month. (It’s called a Cadillac splint. When I said it didn’t feel much like a Cadillac, the orthopedist said, accurately, “You’ve never tried the other kind.”) I have put away a bag full of elastic bandages that held the splint in place, and the lace-up and wrap-around boot that braced my ankle for three weeks after the splint. We’ve hung up the crutches and returned the rented wheelchair.

That only leaves me with an elastic band for ankle-strengthening exercises, and some overall exercises to get back my energy and muscle tone. Amazing how they ebb away when one is sitting around being a good patient. My fibromyalgia acted up during that time, too, but when I finally recognized the symptoms I stopped eating so much sugar and restarted some vitamin and mineral supplements I hadn’t needed for a while, and I started feeling better.

Then I got a nasty surprise. I found a couple of red marks on my lower back, each with a slight bullseye pattern. I hadn’t been anywhere associated with ticks, but Lyme disease is the last thing I need, so I saw a doctor that same day. She ruled out Lyme and thought it might be pressure sores from sitting around so much. But she also decided to test for shingles. Shingles? She thought it very unlikely. The tests came back. Shingles. I hope I’m not tempting the Laughing Gods of Retribution by saying that it's a very minor case, compared to what I see on the Internet. My only discomfort is a few tiny shooting pains (like electrical charges) and some fatigue. I started on acyclovir early, so the doctor says I may avoid the pain that many people get long after the little red marks have disappeared. I hope she’s right. (She also says the shingles vaccine doesn't guarantee that you won't get shingles but it might help reduce the severity. I was going to get the vaccine after my leg healed. Don't need it now.)

The weather is better (slightly lower temps and much lower humidity), and now that I can walk I am able to begin tending a garden that needs, at the very least, some major weeding. The Olympics are about to begin, and we have some nice family activities planned. Life is good.

I hope the same is true for you.

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