TeamReedBlog.2020

When I was young, my grandmother used to take me with her when she visited my Aunt Shirley, Uncle Larry and cousin Lori after they moved to Columbus, Ind. from our hometown about 90 minutes westward. Aunt Shirley, my mother's sister, married Uncle Larry, my father's brother. They met when they were about five years old and married 12 years later. They built a successful business together and retired together, returning near their hometown for their golden years. I don't remember many occasions where one wasn't without the other. Her recent death ended that. Seventy-five years of knowing each other, 63 years of marriage, a lifetime of dry jokes, euchre nights, bowling and collecting all sort of glass and cast iron cookware. There are great photos of Shirley wearing an "I Dream of Jeanie" like dress for a Homecoming float, and Larry suited up for a brother's wedding. They were super cool. Uncle Larry is the strong, silent type unless he has a story to tell,...

I don't know that I've spoken a lot on here about my niece, Annie Williams, but I might have mentioned how much I admired her eloquence at my sister's graveside service nearly three years ago now.   Back when she was a little girl, I used to drive her and her cousins around in my (then) red convertible, driving too fast to make them squeal and send their hair flying in the wind. When I'm very lucky, I get to do the same thing with Annie's kids, Elayna and Nathan. Because, of course, Annie, daughter of Debbie and Steve, is now a grown-up girl, married to Justin Williams, and one of the best people I know. It's easy to admire her. Forty is on her horizon, but she's still a gifted athlete. She's a pharmacist. A coach. Her kids are awesome, and she is supremely grounded even though, as I was reminded this weekend, she was queen of her high school prom.  She also has a Christian faith that rivals my father's. It's something to behold. Like him, she...

Jeff and I grew up so differently it's a wonder we ever found our way to each other.  For example, music has been a constant in his life. His dad, who was in a professional jazz band in his youth, introduced Jeff, Jen and James to folk/rock bands like the Kingston Trio , The Ventures , The Limeliters and Duane Eddy . But then, cousin, Stephen, introduced Jeff to FM radio. He heard Ram Jam's "Black Betty" and was transfixed.  I think he found New Wave music on his own, and then a whole cornucopia of other genres came via his days as a radio DJ in college. Rap, apparently came during his Army days. Absent from the above? Country music and church music, except for Johnny Cash .  Because, well. Johnny Cash. Oh, sure, he knew some Baptist hymns from his Sunday School days where his parents luxuriated in some alone time by spending their three little ones to a local church. But he didn't get indoctrinated like I did with Pentecostal church three times a week and ever...

There was a moment when I glanced into my basement and wondered when I became a hoarder. Getting to the far end of the unfinished side - storage and laundry - was downright dangerous. It's better now, but the aftermath of our later-than-normal return from Maine and our annual New Year's Eve party was ugly. Not so our last couple of weeks. Maine was gorgeous after a big snowstorm on Christmas Eve eve. For Team Tryzbiak, in town from Orlando, the snow was magical. For Mainers, it wasn't quite enough to make for good sliding. But if you've never experienced real snow, it was more than enough to make for an honest-to-goodness white Christmas. Ali, Beau and Gavin made the most of it, as well as the mostly frozen lake. Uncle Peter, who years ago routinely used frozen China Lake to shorten his work commute, had been inspecting the ice and declared parts of it were safe for exploration. Ali and Beau checked it out before Gavin and his parents, Deb and Tim, arrived.  Beau and Al...

It's easy to become numb to the prognostications of TV meteorologists. Drama sells, and if your life is tied to the Doppler radar, I can see how you'd get excited when you get to point to all the blobs of color and toss out your science-y weather jargon.  This weekend in Indianapolis, we were forecast to get a lot of snow in the midst of dangerously cold temps. A good formula to stay inside by the fire, right?  But  Angela was hosting  Christmas Bunco at her home in Brownsburg, and Jeff was hosting a bourbon gathering at our house. Much as I adore the Captain's drinking buddies, I can't drink bourbon or whiskey. So I was extra motivated to go to Bunco - despite the weather and potentially poor road conditions. My friend Jeph was coming to my house and we were going to pick up Annmarie on our way to Brownsburg, which is (normally) about 20-30 minutes away from Broad Ripple.  We set our plan and I went about the business of recovering from the delicious White Chri...

The genesis of our recent trip to California was the Captain thinking it would be a great birthday gift if he were to take advantage of a Southwest Airlines sale and jet off to Torrance, home of one of his all-time favorite breweries: Monkish. I agreed but suggested we also take advantage of our companion pass, that I go along, and we add Napa Valley to the trip.  It turned out to be one of my better ideas. Jeff has been known to travel with small suitcases folded into larger ones with hope to fill one with beer on return trips. This time, he planned to convert a large backpack for that use, while also shipping one box back. He had a budget that was a fraction of his desire, but planned to keep to it. Our trek began in Sacramento, and as we set off for Napa, I suggested we probably had time to drop into the Statehouse and thank Governor Gavin Newsom for all he's doing to save the nation. I wasn't really joking, but the Captain kept the car headed to Napa and away from the capit...