Milwaukee Specialty Food and Coffee

Editorials: The Information Reformation

I feel like I've gained some insights that may go a long way towards helping me understand a lot of the issues I've been thinking about lately, both within myself and in my family. So, let's say you're a 40-or 45-year old guy, like my Dad, who is an executive tasked with traveling the world to supervise the company's subsidiaries. What is your job? I'd imagine, it is to be so on top of things that you can meet with the subsidiary's managers and present a highly condensed, yet effective, version of reality--all while under the influence of jet lag and/or sake or whatever. Accordingly, the subsidiary in Singapore or wherever would breed someone to meet with people like my Dad and present their version of reality.

Why was this necessary? Because in 1985, on a day-to-day, week-to-week level, Singapore and Milwaukee basically have NO IDEA WHAT IS GOING ON in the other place. I use all caps because of how mind-boggling this is. I mean, I don't even know if there was civilian e-mail at that point. Even if so, it surely was unheard of. We are talking communication by landline phone. Phone! LOL. I was an exchange student in Germany in 1988 and '89, and I was *gone*, way gone, in a way that you can't be now. Of course, I reported home by phone. "Yes, sure I'm staying sober, Mom and Dad! I'm handling my money very responsibly!" You get the idea. So what's Dad's other task? To communicate, in commanding form, words and tone, that in the six months until his next visit, the managers were to keep things on course. Aha.

So what happens in the intervening six months? He goes home to his office and family and maybe other trips elsewhere. Six months later, he's back in Singapore, and he only wants to hear one thing: that the subsidiary is hiring and firing in a way that keeps them profitable. A little process involved there, but not a lot. I'm guessing it's fairly black and white: the guy meets with my Dad and the answer is yes or no. Either the job was done or it wasn't. There certainly were no Facebook updates, Twitter tweets or e-mails during the process communicating how much blood, sweat and tears was being expended.

So my Dad has to communicate in a way that acts as kind of a time-release capsule. The information unfolds, is passed down the chain of command, gets acted upon, and achieves the desired result. When he returns, the answer is waiting. The news over sake: the union was brought into line or it wasn't. The contract was signed or it wasn't.

Family Portraits: 4734

I needed to point the car in the right direction to get to Panera in Glendale anyway, so I couldn't resist a drive-by to my family's ancestral home: a very unassuming one on Milwaukee's Near Northwest Side.  After six weeks of cabin fever, it's hard for me not to feel a little disoriented, and I half expect past and present to start becoming interleaved like on Cold Case.  The house and surrounding neighborhood is probably one of the two or three most frequent locations for my dreams.  As I drove past the old Holy Redeemer Catholic Church and hit N. Hopkins Ave., I had that strange feeling of deja vu, though I hadn't been by there for years--at least not physically. 

Editorials: Family Portraits: All I Need to Know I Learned From My Parents

I've had the opportunity to spend a good deal of time with my parents in person and in their home, which, in some ways, could be considered a "proxy" for them and their values.  It's coincided both with this year's dire economic news and with some stumbles in my own life that have shown me that a course correction is necessary.  In observance of my 36th birthday yesterday, here are some positive attributes of the folks who made that birthday possible:

-They don't belong to churches that lose over $15,000 by opening a coffee shop.  I guess I have to give my church a chance to explain this, but it's hard to imagine the justification.

-On the coffee topic, they don't much go to the nearby coffeehouses and overpay to be served lousy coffee drinks by stuck-up North Shore girls.  They make their lousy coffee at home ;-)

-They rarely drink alcohol.  Thank Heaven, this is one of the good traits I did inherit.

The list could go on and on, and I'm sure I'll have more to add later.

Family Portrait: Great-aunt Lucille

It seems like every day, we are burying some of our old values, and I don't much like what they are being replaced with.

I just returned from the funeral home service for my Great-aunt Lucille.  In his brief homily, the priest read a recent daily devotion from one of Lucille's bedside prayer books.  The devotion was about discipline.  The priest commented on the discipline she had practiced over her life, even (perhaps especially) towards the end.  Apparently, the doctor had prescribed two bananas a day, and Lucille religiously followed the order.  She even had a certain kind of cereal she ate every day, along with the bananas.

I hardly feel worthy of having the old-time values of Lucille's generation handed down to me, but I can only pray that it will be so.  The best tribute, I am sure, is to open the windows of my life and let that air in.