Prolific American writer Rita Mae Brown said Happiness is Pretty Simple, “Someone to Love, Something to Do, Something to Look Forward to.” I believe she was on to something.

I had a family to love, plenty to do, maintaining the house and grounds, a book to write, and looking forward to its completion. 

Before Robert was old enough to read, I entertained him with books while in the bath and at bedtime. I fondly remember teaching him to turn over, not like walking, but impressive still. As soon as he was standing on his own, we spent lots of time outdoors, on the beach; eventually, we began exploring and hiking mountain trails.

He played T-ball at a young age, and together we practiced some baseball and basketball, especially when Robert was active in those sports in school. Like me, he was not a naturally talented athlete, but we had fun and never took sports too seriously.

Cheri and I did our best to keep video games and the computer from totally shutting down his outdoor and physical activity.

Early on, I taught him weapons safety and how to shoot with firearms.* It served him well in paintball, and Cheri took him and his friends to endless competitions. He was heavily involved in the Boy Scouts and earned lots of badges. Cheri is fond of saying she was “this close” to becoming an Eagle Scout.

It did not go unnoticed by Robert’s teachers that he had been exposed to a variety of cultural and aesthetic experiences.

As for me, I spent time improving my partially finished basement. My 4 x 8-foot wine cellar is a proud accomplishment because I’m not very talented at handiwork around the house.

After picking up perfectly shaped pine cones on our acre spread — there were so many — I sold a few to a nearby gift shop for holiday decorations.

Clearing lots of brush, tall grass, and small trees, I created a 100-foot safe zone for fire protection around our house and pruned trees. It was a gigantic undertaking that took years to complete and a full-time job to maintain.  I also gathered, cut, and split wood for the stove that heats our cottage.

Then I rested, immersing myself in my thousand-volume library.

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In 2005, I began writing about local veterans and their military experiences, which ran in several Northern California publications and on the World Wide Web. My writing included editorials on veteran issues for Veterans Day, Memorial Day, 4th of July, Armed Forces Day, and Vietnam Vets Recognition Week. I received positive feedback, but nothing as satisfying as the one below.

One of my articles that listed people from our area who were killed in Vietnam featured a  U. S. Marine who lost his life there while serving as a journalist.  Several months after the article ran locally, I received an email from his brother back east. He was surprised to find the story online and appreciative that I had recognized his loved one. I never took any money for the veteran stories I wrote; the fact that he was so grateful to me for honoring his brother, Victor Payne, was priceless.

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Trying to maintain my health, I was going to many medical appointments, usually at the VA Hospital in San Francisco-Ft. Miley, with doctors from the University. Calif. San Francisco (UCSF) and Stanford.

Crohn’s disease was still nagging me. You’ve undoubtedly read enough about my sickness and surgeries, so I will not dwell.

Some highlights: How are 11 days in the hospital for stricture of the colon, a potentially life-threatening emergency? (Luckily, I was in San Francisco when it struck me.)  Then there was surgery for a retracted stoma and another for a revision. I also had four surgeries that fused the center joints of my fingers on each hand (proximal interphalangeal) from a burning-bone-to-bone arthritic hell, blamed on Crohn’s disease. So safe to say, there were several surgeries in the 2002-2012 time frame; honestly, I’ve lost count.  

I recuperated from them all, slowly taking a break from cutting wood and refining my workouts to just walking. Strolling on the black sand at the shores of the Pacific with my canines, drinking California Pinot noir with Oregon cheddar, and reading from my library filled many a day.

Meanwhile, time was running out on my own book. So I would compose a paragraph here and there.

Then I did light work, organizing records, reorganizing the basement and garage, and keeping an eye out for skunks and bears. I became involved in too many interests that require money, like collecting diecast cars (not to mention a few actual cars). There were also tools, knives, weapons, watches, and several lithographs from area artists. Then, I cataloged them all.

After donating my record collection (5,000+) to Laura’s alma mater, Bowling Green State University in Ohio, I had one less thing to organize. They were excited to have my historical collection to expand their first-rate, cataloged repository. I was happy to donate, as I needed a tax deduction that year. I was surprised that the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame wasn’t interested, even when I told them some of the 45s were played on AFVN.

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Working on my appeal to get my correct annuity from Civil Service (now OPM) was very difficult, stressful, time-consuming, and expensive. Fortunately for you, I will not go into any detail. There were many ups and downs, mostly downs. Yet, after a two-year battle, I was successful and received back pay.

Spent: A bonus to my lawyer, money to family members, paid off a few bills, and replaced the deck around my house at $28,000. (It’s a huge 3/4 round deck.) I didn’t spend on any big-ticket items. I already had lots of nice things.  Some money was spent on travel, and a whole lot went to the IRS. Then, I made a few investments just before the crash of 2008.

UPDATE: Another abdominal surgery after stricture of the colon** to untangle the small bowel from a giant hernia (9/1/2025). Twenty-two sutures just above my pelvis. 

*I didn’t touch a firearm, didn’t want to be anywhere near one, until about 25 years after I left Vietnam, and was living in an isolated area.

**(About as much pain as can be tolerated, before shooting oneself)