Saturday, August 01, 2009
Suffolk Sausage Crepes
Celebration.
Family.
Good-natured Harassment.
Word-play.
Delicious food.
Celebration.
Family.
Good-natured Harassment.
Word-play.
Delicious food.
John Hoogenakker and I became acquaintances in the summer of 1987 at Bill Treadwell’s house. We were there for some sort of kids get-together, story-time, and icecream social for church - Myers Park Baptist Church. Dad had just been hired to come be their new Minister of Music, and this was a chance for me to come interact with the kids with whom I’d grow up.
This was only the beginning.
Over the next 8 years of our lives we sang in church choirs, raised havoc in our sunday school classes, grew incredibly close with the rest of the “Dirty Dozen,” and planned our next moves in life.
John once told me a story about a seminar at DePaul University (where John honed his incredibly fine acting skills): The guest speaker for the day was none other than Laurence Fishburne! No shit! The room was absolutely packed with students, and you can guess who was there early, camping out a seat in the front row: John. That’s not the best part - At the conclusion of the session with Mr. Fishburne, many of the students followed him outside to his waiting car. John managed to catch his attention and ask just one simple question, “Mr. Fishburne, I’d like to know how it feels to be my hero.” Laurence Fishburne grabbed John in a big bear hug on a Chicago street and asked, “How does it feel to be mine?”. An old icon in the acting world, and an old icon in my “cast of friends” bonded, if only for a few minutes.
I’m always thrilled to catch John on his cell phone. I never know where he’s going to be. I never know what he’s going to be doing or working on. He’s thrilled me with tales of working for Clint Eastwood in Flags of Our Fathers, and when he mentioned a larger part in Michael Mann’s Public Enemies, I came out of my chair. He told me stories of shooting tommy guns, traveling around Wisconsin, Illinois, and downtown Chicago in period garb. The excitement in his voice was hidden by a thin veil of “cool.”
This past week, John and his incredible wife, Kelly made the trip (along with Willem, their newborn) to Los Angeles, CA, for the Premiere of Public Enemies. I had no idea that they’d be going, nor that they’d walk the Red Carpet.
I dare not say, “You made it,” brother. You continue to “make it” every day. I will say this: I’m damned proud of you. I’m damned proud of you both! You’ve been incredible friends for a long, long time. It’s wonderful to see dreams and possibilities come to fruition.
4 years ago today, I was a part of an airdrop on Iron Mike Drop Zone, just outside Saint Mere-Eglise, France. This was in remembrance of the 61st Anniversary of D-Day.
American, French, and even German paratroopers landed together on Iron Mike that day.
Those streets, beaches, people, and soldiers from other countries won’t be soon forgotten… at least by me.
Freedom is not free.
Shamelessly stolen from today’s StrangeCosmos daily mailing:
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.I am the Gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the mornings hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush of
quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.
This Memorial Day Weekend I’m taking a few minutes to remember an old friend.
My last memories of Chris involve a Gyro at Georgia’s Gyros in North Little Rock, AR; laughs shared with Amy Predmore, Chris, and Rachel; and hopes that we’d see each other “out in the system,” flying Herks.
Chris died in the pursuit of perfection.
I regret that I’ve only been able to come see you twice since our last lunch together. It was good to see that I’m not the only visitor at your place.
After almost losing all of our pictures from our years of living abroad, I decided to post as many as possible to Flickr.
Many of these are days and events that family and friends were never able to enjoy with us.
As an example, this photo of the Frillensee (a small pond at the base of the German Alps) shows one of my favorite spots on Earth. For a few hours in May of 2004, this small (and yet visually stunning) place was “ours:” free of intrusion by other people. Just peace, quiet, nature, and the incredible view.