Since I opted not to teach summer school this year, this past Wednesday was my last work day until the middle of August.

I'm going to fill up my leisure time with as much fun as possible, hopefully allowing me to recharge my batteries in time to engage new and returning students when college resumes in the Fall.

 

My son Michael is visiting me this week from Arkansas. He's scheduled to graduate with his Bachelor's degree in history education from Arkansas Tech University in December.

He'll be doing his student teaching this fall at Russellville High School, his alma mater. Michael sends letters to the editor of this newspaper from time to time and, because we have similar first names, some of you mistake his letters for mine.

Michael's a pretty independent thinker and, although we agree on many things, there are some things we don't.

 

It's always good to have my boys pay me a visit and we always have a good time. There's an element missing to their visits now that used to be present but it's not our fault that it's gone.

 

My youngest son, Will, is attending the same university Michael is and is majoring in broadcast journalism. He still has a year or so to go on his degree plan.

As I've written before, Will travels the country attending concerts and music festivals. Three weeks ago he was at the New Orleans Jazz Festival and the following week, the Beale Street Music Festival in Memphis, an event I attended with him last year. He most likely won't be able to come to McCook this summer because of school, girlfriend, job, and concerts, so I'm planning a trip to Arkansas around July 4th to spend some time with both of them.

 

I sent a dozen red roses to my ex for Mother's Day. She will always be the mother of my children and I will always love her because she is.

She called to tell me that getting the roses made her cry. I figure it's not such a bad thing to cry every now and then.

 

I and a friend of mine, Scott Kasich, known by some as Norm and others as The McCook Chef, are driving to Denver on Memorial Day to watch the Cardinals play the Rockies that afternoon and then on to Red Rocks that night to see Chris Isaak and Stevie Nicks.

For those of you who don't know Scott, his vehicle of choice is a fully equipped hearse so we had to decide whether to drive his hearse or my T-bird. We opted for the T-bird.

 

Two weeks later, on June 14th, Coach Daryl Bonow and I will be taking Amtrak to Reno for a three day visit, highlighted by a Huey Lewis and the News concert at the Silver Legacy Lodge where we'll be staying. This is supposed to be one of the most scenic Amtrak routes there is because most of it is through the mountains.

I didn't have a good experience with Amtrak last summer and some of you may remember I vowed to never ride Amtrak again. Two things made me change my mind; time heals all wounds, plus we got a sleeper car which should make the trip a lot more bearable.

Two friends of ours, Jim and Carol Lemon, will be on the same train with us, on their way to visit friends in California. Their friends will pick them up in Reno and stay a day or so before they drive the rest of the way.

Jim Harris, a friend of ours who splits his time between McCook and Redding, Calif., will be driving over from California to meet up with me and Coach.

 

The weekend after we get back from Reno, I'll be meeting friends in Lincoln to see Coco Montoya, one of the best blues bands I've ever heard.

They will be performing on the streets during Celebrate Lincoln weekend.

 

In the musings category, did you know that research indicates that from 60 to 75 percent of the people on anti-depressant medicine continue to display all or most of the symptoms of depression?

Kinda makes you wonder, doesn't it?

 

Reba McIntyre hosted the Country Music Awards the other night and said that Toby Keith was doing his part to fight global warming by drinking an ice-cold six pack of beer back stage. I don't think she gets it.

President Bush's approval ratings have dropped to an all-time low at 28 percent, tying Jimmy Carter and his dad, George Herbert Walker Bush, for the lowest presidential ratings ever for a sitting president. Maybe the Dixie Chicks were right.

 

I briefly contemplated changing my place of residence last week but ultimately decided to stay where I am.

There are just too many good memories connected to where I live, literally in every room, and I'm not ready to walk away from those right now. I may never be able to.

 

Finally, I know most of you have heard the saying, "Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it." The idea behind the saying is that when we want things we don't have, we conjure up perfect scenarios for them and, if we do eventually get them, reality sometimes lets us down.

On the other hand, there's no way to know if something is going to be as wonderful as we think it will be until we actually have it.

Only then will we know if fantasy trumps reality or vice versa because if we never get it, we'll continue to dream and fantasize about how great it would have been if we would have.

In keeping with that thought, I choose to believe the line spoken by Gene Wilder to the little boy in "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory":

 

"Do you know what happened to the person who got exactly what they wished for?

 

 They lived happily ever after."