A best friend is gone

I received word last night that Lonnie Miller, one of my best friends throughout our elementary, junior high and high school years, died last Saturday.

We had lots of adventures together, including a bicycle trek from Delphi to West Lafayette and back - my longest bicycle ride ever.

Lonnie played trombone in every instrumental ensemble Delphi High School had to offer. He and I also comprised 40 percent of the bass section in the Top 20 swing choir.

We went our separate ways after high school - Lonnie to Purdue and me to Indiana State College (later Indiana State University).

I've always regretted losing touch all those years, but we had an opportunity to share memories and laughs at our 50-year class reunion in 2013.

His son Cameron dropped by my Thorntown house a year or so ago and we had a delightful chat about what it was like to grow up in Delphi in the 1950s and '60s. I was flattered to learn that Cameron follows my blog and I hope he sees this tribute.

Here's Lonnie's obituary:

Lonnie Gordon Miller

April 25, 1945 - September 11, 2021

Lonnie Gordon Miller, 76, passed away peacefully at his home in Lafayette, Indiana, on September 11, 2021. He was born April 25, 1945, in Dayton, Ohio, to the late Kenneth Gordon Miller and Gladys Leona (Henderson) Miller.

Lonnie grew up in Delphi, Indiana, and graduated from Delphi High School in 1963, followed by a year of studies at Purdue University. He was married to Judy Ann (Jones) Miller on January 24, 1965, in Delphi, Indiana. Together, Lonnie and Judy had over 56 years together, raising their family and watching their children, grandchildren, and then great-grandchildren grow. A life-long resident of the Lafayette area, Lonnie worked at Alcoa for 10 years and Kmart for 20 years. Even into his retirement years he continued working, always busy and eagerly making new friends as a window washer at many Lafayette-area establishments.

Lonnie had many joys in life. During his youth he enjoyed outdoor sports such as fishing and trapping. From his parents he learned to be an accomplished gardener, regularly earning champion and grand champion accolades in 4-H.

At a young age he developed a love of music, culminating in his avid participation in church and school choral and band groups, including travels about the state for dance band and choral engagements, cherished memories of which he often spoke. He enjoyed learning about far-away places and taking his young family on vacations about the country, always reminding his children that one’s travels aren’t solely for fun, but for education also. Lonnie’s hobbies and interests varied throughout his life, from drag racing and motor sports as a young man to collecting antique glassware in his later years. However, his greatest joy in life was the time he spent with his family, his grandchildren especially.

Surviving Lonnie is his wife, Judy of Lafayette; two sons, Cameron (Connie) Miller of Lebanon, Indiana, and Mark (Lisa) Miller of Lafayette; two daughters, Angela (Jerry Banter) Miller of Bradenton, Florida, and Susan (David) Walters of West Lafayette, Indiana; his sister, Carmen (Allan) Grose of Lafayette. Also surviving him are 14 grandchildren, 17 great-grandchildren, and two nephews, Nathan Slavens and Joshua Slavens.

Private interment will be in the Chapel of Faith Mausoleum at Tippecanoe Memory Gardens. Online condolences can be left to the family at www.tippecanoememorygardens.com.

The tomato patch

 

A few more days of hot sunshine and the tomatoes will start to ripen. Maria's tomato patch is looking good.

Fisheye!

It's been years, maybe decades, since I bought a new lens. But this month I decided I would like to have a fisheye lens for my new D500.

I did a brief survey of what's available and finally settled on a Rokinon 8mm f/3.5 fisheye lens for about $220.

It arrived yesterday and I did my first shoot with it for publication today in The Lebanon Reporter - a photo of the county jail to accompany a story about an outbreak of Covid among the jail's population.

I'm still learning the new lens - I find I need to under-expose by about 1 f-stop to avoid blowing out the image. I'm puzzled by that, but I'll figure out why over time.

The lens is kind of a one-trick pony and should be used sparingly, but it's a fun toy.

Tucker is visiting

Tucker, our granddog, is spending a few days with us while his family is on vacation.

He's a red heeler, a kind of Australian Cattle Dog. He's stand-offish with strangers and came from an abusive owner when my stepdaughter rescued him six years ago. It took him awhile to warm up to his new extended family, but now he likes to cuddle. He seems especially happy to see me and jumped up onto the couch to be petted shortly after arriving last night.

Rain jacket and Lexus problem solved

My Duluth Trading Co. No Rainer rain jacket arrived today, just in time for a lengthy dry spell.

But that's not what I want to write about on this, Skip Hess's 83rd birthday.

Our 2004 Lexus RX330 looks older than it is because of a crappy clear-coat application. The peeling clear-coat makes the car look like it has feathers and is molting.

A newish battery refused to hold a charge. Since it was under warranty, the shop replaced it for free.

Fast forward. It sits idle a lot because we prefer to drive our 2017 Subaru Forester. Lately, whenever I go to start it, the new battery is dead. I jump start it and drive around a lot, but come the next morning, the battery is dead again.

The odds of getting two faulty batteries in the space of a few months are pretty long, so I figured something else must be at play.

I came to the conclusion that some circuit in the car is draining the battery, even when the car is idle. Especially when it's idle.

So I jump started it and took it to the shop where it sat for 3-4 days until it finally refused to start. I asked the technicians to trouble shoot the wiring system with an eye to finding a current drain.

They did and that's what they found - a ground wire with worn insulation. They fixed it for $59 and the problem appears to be solved.

I'm pleasantly surprised that I could intuit the problem.

Changing the fridge water filter

One of my least favorite household chores involves replacing the water filter in our refrigerator.

The installation is easy, but then the manufacturer advises to run 4 gallons of water through it before you use it.

The water pressure is low enough that it takes about 20 minutes to run that much water, making it a mind-numbingly tedious process.

Never mind, is has to be done, so I pulled up a kitchen chair and did it this morning.

Back in the saddle again

 Photos from my new Nikon D500 dominate the front page of today's Lebanon Reporter.

I did the pictures and Maria did the words. The A-Team is back!

Upgrading from my 15-year-old D200

 

  

It's been a long time since I was intimidated by a camera, but much has changed since 2006 when Maria and I bought a pair of Nikon D200 digital SLRs.

I'd been hankering for a new camera for several months and, with the sale of my BMW K1200GT, I found myself with the funds to make a purchase. The D500 is the flagship of Nikon's FX digital SLRs and it very well may be the last camera I ever buy.

There are enough features to fill a 400-page user's manual, so I have plenty of reading before I can even consider myself competent with the camera.

The D200 is still more than adequate after 15 years - I shot photos with it for a couple of stories in the local newspaper last week and was pleased with the results. I may miss its simplicity, but the D500's features, including the ability to rip off 10 frames/second, are pretty seductive.

Adios K1200GT. You served me well for more than 79,000 miles.

 I said goodbye to my 2003 BMW K1200GT this afternoon, having sold it to my brother-in-law, Raph Bayless.

He texted me later to say he hit 120 mph on I-74 on the way back to his Brownsburg home. It was a considerable step up from his BMW R1100 and I'm happy the bike I've ridden since early 2003 has gone to a good home.

I decided to part with the bike because, at 75, my balance is iffy - possibly due to the diabetes and blood pressure meds I'm on - and I've ridden very little since we got back from Arkansas more than 3 years ago. That's a consequence of finances that forced me to forgo long trips and the effects of the Covid pandemic that deprived me and most other motorcyclists of places to go. As a result, I'm way out of practice and my confidence is severely impaired.

Besides, I dread the prospect of a broken hip - the slippery slope that put my dad into a nursing home, where he died. Fuck that.

Zapping the floaters in my left eye

I've been bothered for about a year by excessive floaters - bits of debris in the eyeball that interfere with vision. If you see little things that look like amoeba when you stare into a clear blue sky, you know what I mean. I've had them as long as I can remember, even into childhood. I just figured it was normal.

The floaters in my left eye had gotten to the point where they compromised my almost perfect vision that I've enjoyed since getting both lenses replaced in late 2017.

My opthalmologist opined at my last visit that I might want to get them destroyed by laser. Sounded good to me, so I had it done this morning. Turns out it was a quick procedure that was absolutely painless.

The idea is the laser breaks them up into tiny pieces that get reabsorbed into the interior lining of the eyeball.

It's too early to know how well it went - he has me scheduled for an exam in a month - but I remain optimistic.

Isn't life interesting?

Here I am in the Emergency Room of Witham Hospital in Lebanon, Ind. last Saturday afternoon.

I had just put a frozen mini-pizza into the oven and set the timer for 28 minutes. I plopped down on the parlor couch and tried to get up when the timer went off. To my shock and horror, I couldn't stand up. My balance was completely gone and all I could do was flop back down into my seat. I found myself sweating profusely and too dizzy to move. All I could do was hold still and call Maria for help. I also experienced waves of nausea that culminated in me vomiting into a big plastic bucket. Maria said all of the color drained out of my face.

It was bewildering, made more so by the speed with which it overtook me. My first thought was that Covid had finally got me in its clutches. Maria made a quick call to Dr. Nicole Flora, my daughter-in-law in Las Vegas who listened to my symptoms and opined that I might be having a cardiac episode.

Minutes later, somewhat recovered, I was in the passenger seat of our Subaru Forester heading to the ER.

The words "cardiac episode" work like magic when you want to be seen at a hospital and I was promptly wheeled into a curtained examining room where about a dozen or more sensors were stuck onto my skin and I was hooked up to an electrocardiogram machine.

Presently, the ER doctor came in and listened to my story and, since the EKG showed no evidence of a heart problem, ordered a CAT scan and an MRI to see if I'd had a stroke. The CAT scan was no big deal and didn't trigger my claustrophobia, but the MRI was a different story.

I've always thought I wasn't a candidate for an MRI since I have a stainless steel plate and 6 screws in my left femur, a souvenir from when I rode a bicycle into the path of a car in April, 1956. But the MRI tech decided it wasn't an issue. She gave me a pair of earplugs to mute the noise of the MRI machine and put me into the machine with assurances that she would stop the process and free me if I started to freak out.

What followed was one of the more uncomfortable 15 minutes of my life, but I kept the anxiety tamped down and hung on.

Back in the ER examining room, the doctor said the two scans showed my brain was in good shape and there was no sign of stroke.

The doctor decided I had experienced a severe attack of vertigo. I've felt dizzy off and on for the past few months, so it kinda made sense. He gave me a prescription for Antivert and sent me on my way.

I posted this picture and the brave boast that it was probably nothing on Facebook when I got to the hospital. By the time I got home, I had more than 50 comments of support and prayers from Facebook. One friend asked if I was taking Gaviscon and sent me a link to a study linking Gaviscon to vertigo. I've been taking Gaviscon almost nightly for months. I pitched the bottle into the trash.

I categorize that tip as useful information that was probably worth the ER trip. And as a bonus, I now know my heart and brain are okay.

Christmas china from True West - Merry Christmas to me!

It's been a few years since I added anything to my cowboy china collection so I claimed this Christmas platter as my Christmas present from Maria.

The Christmas series was never produced by Wallace China. The rest of the Wallace cowboy china line is now being faithfully reproduced by True West China. The owner of True West was visiting with the late artist Till's daughter when he was shown a series of Till's drawings for Christmas cards and got permission to use the images on a new Christmas series of china.

This platter arrived on Dec. 18 and I planned to use it for Christmas dinner, but I liked seeing it in the china cabinet so much, I couldn't bear to cover it up with food.

Confronting the reality of ending my motorcycling career

I fear that the Covid-19 pandemic has ended my motorcycling career that began in the 1970s.

My BMW K1200GT (on the left) sits idle in my shed connected to a battery trickle charger. It hasn't run in nearly a year and I fear the fuel stabilizer isn't sufficient to prevent starting problems. I just haven't had the heart to find out.

My BMW K75S has been sitting in the neighborhood Gold Wing repair shop since just after Labor Day, 2018, waiting for rear brake service. I haven't talked with the proprietor in more than a year and I learned the other day that his building is in foreclosure, so I probably ought to rescue the bike before it gets seized by the lender.

I rode a pathetic 10 miles last year - just down Ind. 75 to Western Boone Junior-Senior High School and back. Not long after, I began to notice I was having balance problems, which eroded my confidence and got me thinking about the slippery slope that goes with breaking a hip. That's what put my dad into a nursing home at the end of his life.

Plus, the pandemic took away the initiative to ride anywhere now that most destinations are problematic (first time I ever used that word in print). 

I joined some Indianapolis BMW Club friends for lunch last summer and another long-distance rider shared that his confidence isn't what it used to be and we agreed that it may be time to retire from riding.

I had a good run - about 400,000 miles on five BMWs and a couple of Kawasakis and rode all over the U.S. with multiple trips to California, the Pacific Northwest, Canada, and Florida to mention a few. I took lots of photos and kept logs of my trips, so I have plenty of memories to revisit in my advancing years.

So when spring arrives, I plan to sell the big blue bike and maybe keep the K75S for puttering around.

Visiting fox

My trailcam captured this fox strolling across our neighbor's driveway at 5:50 a.m. on Nov. 21.

We live on the edge of town, so it's no surprise that wildlife comes to visit occasionally.

We routinely had foxes and deer and coyotes in our yard when we lived in Arkansas.

My big German binoculars have been restored to their former clarity

My WWII E. Leitz 15x60 Campofortit arrived yesterday after being refurbished by Suddarth Optical Repair of Henryetta, Oklahoma and I am astonished at the improvement in clarity and sharpness! They're as optically impressive as the day they were made.

Cory Suddarth learned his craft while in the U.S. Navy and he and his son Eric have been repairing/refurbishing/rescuing binoculars for several years. Eric did the work on my binoculars which were brought back from WWII by my first father-in-law Philip Kroon.

Judging from the serial number, I think they were manufactured in the late 1930s. I am awaiting information from the Ernst Leitz Museum in Germany as to the precise date they were made. The eyepiece cover has a Wehrmacht waffenamt mark, identifying them as being used by the Gerrman military.

My research indicates they were the most powerful binoculars ever produced by Leitz and were in production from 1932 into the 1960s. One source asserts they were the third best binoculars in the world at the time of manufacture, but he didn't bother to identify the first and second-place binos.

In my experience, it takes very steady hands to use binoculars this powerful. Generally, I find 7x50 to be the most practical for hand-held use.

Happy 50th birthday, Steve!

 My son Steve, seen here with his mother Diane in April, 1971, is 50 years old today.

It seems impossible that both of my sons are in their 50s, but me being 75 seems odd too.

When dad was less than half my age

Going through an old scrapbook the other day, I found this photo of my dad in the 1940s - he would have been in his early 30s - on the Carroll County Courthouse square in Delphi.

Kind of startling to see him downtown without a coat and tie.

Using a bore sighter to adjust my Combat Commander's laser grips

When I bought a set of Crimson Trace Laser Grips for my Colt Combat Commander 1911 a few years ago, I adjusted the laser to align with the iron sights.

It seemed to work okay and I was able to put rounds on target as far as the 50-yard length of my neighborhood shooting range, even shooting from the hip.

Even so, when the Amazon Vine Program offered me a laser bore sighter, I jumped on it.

The device comes with two sets of three batteries. You unscrew the back of the .45 caliber-size bore sighter, insert three batteries and screw it back on. This turns on the laser. Insert it into the chamber of your gun and, voila, you can see precisely where the bullet would impact, distance and wind notwithstanding.

I found the Crimson Trace laser was off by about 3-4 inches at 20 feet - not terrible, but not perfect either.

Then came the hard part - finding the original Crimson Trace box containing the tiny Allen wrenches used to adjust the sight. I hunted high and low for about 20 minutes before I finally located it.

It was a simple matter of dialing in the Crimson Trace laser so it was in synch with the bore sighter's red dot.

Now I am reasonably confident that my laser grip is spot-on. Of course, the proof will be in the shooting, but I'm impressed that my original seat-of-the-pants setting was so close to perfect, considering that the iron sights are ever-so-slightly off.

Isle Royale sunrise

My sons, Sean and Steve, were up with the sun for our first day of hiking and camping at Isle Royale National Park in late June, 1976.

Godspeed, Bill Freeman

I was shocked and saddened when Dave Goyer (on the left) told me our high school band compadre Bill Freeman (center) died earlier this week.

Dave said Bill had been in hospice care with colon cancer. Bill was a year behind us in school, graduating in 1964.

Here we are playing a gig at the Purdue University Club 25 Fraternity in the winter of 1962-63. Trumpet players will recognize the spots on our pants as drainage from spit valves.