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Posts Tagged ‘David VanVleck’

It is time to revisit search terms.  Now, I could go for the thrill here and just give Viggo Mortensen the award, but he is actually not on top.  Even though he is 99.9% perfect and he always seems to be my most popular post. 

 

As of October 30th, my all time most popular search term (not me searching, I assure you – this is for finding my blog) is —- drum roll please —   FLDS.  How interesting that people are so fascinated with these odd, brainwashed/washing people.  I suppose that, within reason, it could be any of us born to this group, indoctrinated by these people and now living a 1700’s style life.  After all, my daughter and eight grandchildren are, although without the wierd hair, but with a head covering. It’s one of those “There but for the grace of God, go I” things.  We see their bun-on-top hairstyle and prairie dresses and their men dressed in modern clothing, and we just have to go: WHY!  Why would anyone let another human being tell them how to dress and how to live their life.  It’s like the men are playing some wierd drinking game.

 

            “Okay, you get a shot if you can make your wife fix her hair in the most outlandish style possible.”

            “Yeah, but I bet you can’t make your wife wear a prairie dress for thirty days.” 

 

My second most popular search is for “viggo mortensen girlfriend.”  I really had no idea I was going to have so much competition for the man.  Back off, ladies.  I know that Lyda at  Pollyanna Rainbow Sunshine and the Needles of Doom likes him.  Who wouldn’t?  He is intelligent, soft spoken, artistic and speaks his mind, ie “No Blood for Oil”.  I admire him and I am sticking to that line too.  Out of 49 search terms, six versions of Viggo Mortensen were used to reach my blog.

 

Third:  camera obscura.    This is so cool!  I love turning a room into a camera obscura and I think it is a great way to teach a class how a camera lens work.  EMT is currently taking black and white darkroom in his photography class and loves it.  I have safe lights, trays and paper but I left my enlarger back in Wyoming.  Unfortunately, moving trucks do not have the expanding propertys of the Weasley’s Ford Anglia. Ford Anglia – Wikipedia, the free encyclopediaWhich is a shame as he loves the darkroom at school and I miss developing.  My other painting links on photography are chemistry, painting with fix and developer, film canister pinhole, Pringles can pinhole,

 

The fourth most popular search I have is flooding; in Nashville, in Brown County, in Indiana, in Lowell and several other variations.  I would have thought that, with elections and all else that has happened in the world, the floods would be low in search terms.  Although, I was emailed some photos from Hessville/Hammond flooding and it was amazing.  The water was up to the underpass. 

 

My other search terms, in order of hits, are:

crazy aunt purl – gotta love that girl   Crazy Aunt Purl

 

bradshaw state jail –  I just knew I should not have allowed that link through, because it often includes other words which shall not be written here.. 

 

david vanvleck – This is my brother, but apparently a lot of other people’s brothers names, or he had way more friends than I knew.  So far the searchers choose to remain anonymous.

 

Million dollar weddings: It’s a wedding year for me with the marriage of two great nieces and the first wedding of my Army grandson.

 

Thong accidents and Daughter’s first thong:  I still think this is just so wrong, in so many ways.  Ehuwww!

 

Reaction about the film labyrinth:  A great film; sticks with you.

 

Wake up in strange land:  Thank you, I don’t feel so alone now.

 

Frozen brownie: Hope they get the book, as it is so funny.  Tell Me Lies  Jennifer Crusie’s Bibliography

 

Windows Mojave stupid: Yes, it is and now if Microsoft would just admit it and send us a disc to put Windows XP on the computer, we would be so eternally a Windows fan but I am fast  considering a Mac.

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My mother always said that, if she could relive life, she would be a journalist.  My father, on the other hand, never had such thoughts.  He was too busy watching his “window to the world,” television.  However, I think that dad would have loved to have been a film maker. 

 

 He loved taking movies.  His movies usually consisted of family holidays, back when people were used to sitting still for the camera so we had a lot of years of “wave at the camera” shots.  I do not think it ever occurred to him to take a movie ‘with a purpose’ other than the time he wanted to take one to make it funny by playing it backwards.

 

Dad had us play a game of cards; throwing down the cards, drinking a glass of pop, the dog jumping up on the chair and my brother eating a banana.  The best part though was when David, my brother, finished with the banana and continued eating the banana peel.  That was not in the script and I think that milk came out my nose because I started laughing so hard.  Backwards movies have ick factors too.

 

This is still the most asked for film in the family and part of the reason is that it seemed so out of character.  David was not the family clown.  Well, other than the time, when my nephew was a baby and David stuck the nephew’s high chair suction toy to his forehead and left it there during the picnic.  Needless to say, he never did that again.  The hickey lasted for a week.

 

David was shy.  Painfully shy where girls were concerned.  He was the band nerd in school, and all my friends thought he was adorable but since he was six years older than we were, it was not an issue.

 

Later, he became the computer nerd.  He was the guy who went hunting with a friend and hunted only with his camera.  He spent his life reading books and listening to music and, when he had children, he added a lifetime of Boy Scout leadership to that list.  He loved camping and nature.

 

I still like to think he is somewhere, sitting outside his tent, by the campfire, with his nose in a book.   

 

 

david-mom-favor-cropped1

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I gave birth to two daughters.  I watched them grow and marry and have children and I am here to tell you.  Raising girls is WAYYYY different then raising boys. 

 

I did not give birth to these boys but they lived with me for nine, six and three years before their mother’s second marriage.  Then, I spent an average of three days a week in their home or they in mine.  The oldest, Gaffer, moved in when he was a freshman in high school and he will be twenty-two, in November.  The middle, EMT boy, is nineteen and JRockGuitarMan is sixteen.  These last two have lived with me for the last three years.

 

The big concern for girls seems to be their hair and their butts; and the respective size of each.  Boys: the big concern is more varied.  Shirt sleeves are a big concern.  It is amazing how much time a boy, in Brown County, can take rolling up and down a t-shirt sleeve.  We do, sad to say, live in a rather red-neck county. 

 

I know this because, periodically I have to remind JRockGuitarMan that he does not have a southern accent and that “ya’all” is, in fact, not a word.  Try calling his cell phone and you will think that Randy Travis is answering; with a hint of twang to it.  The boy was born in northwest Indiana and raised in Wyoming, but three years of Brown County takes over.

 

My brother, David VanVleck, was six years older than me.  He read books, listened to music with headphones on and played the clarinet.  He was quiet; unless he was complaining that I was not rinsing the dishes good enough.  This is not the norm with these boys.  They are anything but quiet.  I have stopped sword fights and wrestling in the front room.  If I pull in the drive, and only the boys are home, I can hear the stereo vibrating the neighbor’s windows. 

 

I think that girls are a bit more consistent too.  EMT boy has had his ear pierced three separate times, Gaffer, at least twice.  They decide to let it seal up and then redo it.  Is this some ritual to prove you can endure pain?  Girls are smart enough to do it and keep it.  Why go through that again?  Then, there is the tattoo.  EMT boy designed a fireman tattoo and has had it touched up once.  JRockGuitarMan, who hates needles with a passion, periodically discusses getting a tattoo.  I’m not sure he totally believes how many needle sticks are involved in the process.

 

Then, there is the military.  Gaffer will never let them get their hands on him.  EMT boy dresses military, goes out to Camp Atterbury and challenges them to the obstacle course and wins.  Wins “cool” military posters at school by doing more push-ups than anyone; but until yesterday, he was never entering the military.  I understand this, however, he has found out how much money they will pay him to get his RN.  He does not like debt. 

 

Now, JRockGuitarMan is talking military.  He, like Gaffer, has an aversion to homework and some idiot in Brown County, told him that he could quit school, get his GED and join the military.  He has visions of being Special Forces.  He was informed, yesterday, that if he drops out (in his continuing effort to avoid homework) that he will have to get sixty credit hours at the local college before they will take him.  Opppss!! That did not work out so well for him, now did it?  And, since all the teachers agree that he is a very bright guy, he will be doing his homework. 

 

The best laid plans of mice and young men—

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There are some things parents should not do; naming your child after beaches and spaceships may be yet two of those things.  But, definitely, do NOT name your child the exact same, albeit not common name of a relative.

 

My brother was named David Merle VanVleck.  Mom wanted to name him Allen.  She had loved the name Allen since she was a little girl, but since she also had a boyfriend named Allen-before she met Dad, he would not agree to name my brother Allen.  David was decided upon and Merle was picked by mom, because it was the name of the one cousin who treated mom nicely in Dad’s family.

 

It takes awhile to accept a new wife in some families.  Suddenly, everything the previous wife (who is deceased-which is even worse, especially for her) ever did is wonderful and besides, the new wife is a floozy. She must be; as she wears mascara, lipstick, nylons and high heels.  It was around 1940, after all and her new sister-in-law did not think too highly of her.

 

So, this baby boy comes along and they name him David Merle VanVleck, without ever once thinking about the fact that Dad’s brother and his wife also named their little boy, who might have been a year older or not, David Merle VanVleck.  This would have been fine if my brother had stayed in Indiana and not moved to Illinois and a neighboring city to his cousin.  But, he did.

 

Let me put a disclaimer here; as with all family posts, there must be a disclaimer.  Don’t sue me.  There, that’s it, ‘cause I’m going to tell the truth, as I remember it and I don’t have any assets worth suing over.  Unless you want that laptop with VISTA.

 

Unlike my brother, the other David Merle VanVleck; my cousin, David, had a mean look about him.  I didn’t like the way he would glare at me, when I was a young girl, and say mean things and then smile. That smile, I was convinced had a mass-murderer type of aspect to it and I avoided him when I could.  

 

When my cousin grew up, he made a lot of debts he did not pay, and then he stole money from his father and who knows what else.  I don’t because I still stayed away from him. He also left his wife, who is a beloved member of this family yet and loved him (and even cared for him at the end) until the day he died. His current wife did not show up for his funeral.

 

My brother, having moved to the nearby town in Illinois, would receive his cousin’s bills and collection notices, and all kinds of other troubles.

 

What brings me to this place is that even yet, eighteen years after his death, I think it may be haunting him still.  One of my search terms the other day was:

david van vleck sucks

2

     

Two people, actually searched those four words.  Now, my brother’s name gets a lot of searches for it.  I know there are other VanVleck’s out there and some may even “suck”, but I gotta tell you that both of my families, the good and the bad, David Merle VanVleck’s are deceased now. Both from the cancer that haunts both sides of my family and both were way too young when they died.

 

But, I will guarantee you that my brother was not the David Merle VanVleck, who “sucked.” David was an outdoors, camping, camera toting, phlebotomist, computer nerd, Boy Scout Leader, and listener of The Irish Rovers that we all loved.   And, I am stating we all loved my brother, David, and not the Irish Rovers.  Thank goodness for head phones.

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As my reader’s know, I love my Cloud Tags and my search criteria.  Today, I’m really wondering about the people who have been searching for “David VanVleck” lately. I personally have known two David VanVleck’s. One was a cousin and one was my brother.

My brother passed away in 1990, at age 46. He attended Calumet High School in Indiana and was in the band with Mr. Barberi, a fantastic band director. David played a clarinet in Jazz band. He was in the Air Force and, when he left the service, He worked in Illinois and Indiana as a phlebotomist. He and his wife had three children.

He was a wonderful guy, with a passion for music and books, Boy Scouts, nature and camping. He also loved computers and had a MENSA IQ.

David died of Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma and, if you are searching him because you knew my brother, David VanVleck and this David VanVleck, I would so love to hear how you knew him, how you remember him.  I miss him every day.

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My dad and David during WW II

It is raining in central Indiana. Since I grew up in northwestern Indiana, this does not surprise me. It is the reason that all I want to do is stay in, drink hot oolong/Jasmine tea and curl up under a blanket with a good book.

 

Actually, I love the rain. One of my favorite memories is camping with my family in the rain. Sitting in my living room, I can smell the wet canvas and hear the sound of the tent zipper. My brother and I would play Cribbage by the fire, after the rain cleared, or while sitting at the picnic table, under a tarp. He also taught me to play chess. He loved games. I don’t.  I have a compulsion to create and, the whole time I am playing a game, I feel I am wasting time when I should be painting.  But, I do make an exception for Cribbage and chess and would give a lot to have one more game by the fire.

 

My brother, David, was under two when our dad went off to war. He, mom and our sister lived with our grandmother during this time.  David loved our Uncle Donald.  He followed him around like a puppy dog until Uncle Donald DeWitt shipped out. One day, he woke up from his nap screaming. Grandma and mom went running in to comfort him. He told them that Uncle Donald was hurt, and they put him in a jeep, and they drove him into the forest, and he was never coming back. David was inconsolable. My grandmother said, she knew right then that her son was dead. David’s dream was a warning for her.

 

It was true. Uncle Donald was fighting in the Battle of the Bulge. There was a company in the U.S. that ran out of gunpowder so they decided to try TNT (excuse me if I have the names of the powders wrong). Uncle Donald’s weapon exploded.  An ambulance was not available, so they put him on the back of a jeep to take him to the field hospital; through the woods. He was DOA.  When they received the death notice, the day of his death was the same day as my brother’s nightmare.

 

My brother was born six years before I was. I understand he liked to spoil me when we were little. I don’t remember much of that but I do remember that he was always there to listen, when the world seemed to be crushing me. I also remember him reading or listening to music. He would come to dinner with his nose in a book. In fact, one day he came out of his bedroom when mom had company, and the company asked her who the boy was, who was visiting. They had been to our home several times but he was always in his bedroom reading and they had no idea she had a son.

 

David went off to the Air Force and became a phlebotomist. Mr. Nasty Nice would draw blood, take bodily fluids, and test them. In those days, I believe they just put their thumb over the end of the test tube and shook it up.  However, you would incur his wrath if you took a drink out of his water glass.

 

 

When he signed up for military service, he got the deal to pick where he would be stationed after basic training. As any sane person would do, he chose Hawaii. He actually spent the last years of his service at Ernest Harmon Air Force Base in Newfoundland. The Air Force has quite a sense of irony, doesn’t it?

 

After he left the Air Force, my brother worked at a hospital lab in Illinois. His co-worker invited him to dinner one night and introduced him to her daughter, Terri. They married and had four wonderful kids. He was head of the lab at St. Margaret’s Hospital in Hammond, Indiana, until he got involved with computers.  It was a passion for him and when he became ill, he was able to work from home as he became more ill.

 

Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma took his life.  He fought it for two years.  As the disease progressed and the treatments took their tole, he developed a cough. One of the few things he could enjoy was eating lunch with friends in the hospital cafeteria. One day he was coughing in line and another hospital employee told him, “If you are that sick, you shouldn’t be here.” I kind of understand, but he wasn’t infectious and for the rest of the time he had left on earth, he ate lunch alone in his office.  Which was not right either.

 

People tend to panic on their fiftieth birthday. My brother didn’t.  He panicked when he turned forty. This was before they diagnosed his cancer. I joked that he should wait and get upset when he turned fifty. Something in him seemed to know he would never make it to fifty, and he didn’t.  He passed away in 1990. I miss him every single day; especially the rainy ones.

 

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