November 12, 2025 (Vol. 19. No. 44) - Today marks the 150th anniversary of the birth of my grandmother, Elizabeth E. Harry (1875-1973). To say she was a remarkable woman would be an understatement. In my family, she was a savior. She moved to our home on the Eastern Shore of Maryland from her native Hagerstown to help stabilize a family in crisis somewhere around the late 1950s or early 1960s. My mother and father, both alcoholics, were in the process being divorced. To put it kindly, my father was a bad drunk. While my memories of my personal interactions with my father are good, I also remember that he was abusive to my mother. Five of their seven children were still at home at the time. My oldest brothers Carey and Charles were on their own, often spinning out of control. The State of Maryland was questioning whether it should intervene on behalf of the children. The economic stability of the family was in question. We were not the typical American family.

Enter Grandmother Elizabeth, the only one of my four grandparents still alive. She was the rock on which the family survived. I was too young to know or understand the underlying family dynamics. But what I do know is that Elizabeth was the calm in the eye of the storm. Grandmother Elizabeth relied upon her Quaker background to help bring order to disorder. Even when my mother remarried an alcoholic, the family somehow continued to function. That was especially true when my mother and stepfather "fell off the wagon." (To their credit, they lived their last quarter century together sober.) It would be a lie for me to suggest that everything was smooth sailing once Grandmother walked through the door. But one should not underestimate the value of her presence.

She was often the person I turned to for emotional support. I actually lived with her for two years in a small cottage next to the family home. I would wake up each morning for school and hear The Lord's Prayer sung on the radio precisely at 7:00 a.m. Because it is a prayer of David, she had me memorize it. When I caught my first fish, she cleaned and cooked it for me. She was the one who sewed on the merit badges and assorted patches on my Boy Scout uniform. I watched the Beatles on The Ed Sullivan Show with her. That our birthdays were within four days of each other created an additional bond. Even to this day, more than four decades since her passing, I think of her often. My daughter carries her name, as does one of her daughters. I cannot let November 12 pass without reflecting on the lifelong influence Elizabeth Harry had on me and my siblings. We were blessed to have had her in our lives. That's it for now. Happy Heavenly Birthday, Grandma! Fear the Turtle.

November 8, 2025 (Vol. 19. No.43) - It is with amazement - and amusement - that I today celebrate my 73rd birthday. It is somewhat a surprise that I am still around considering the utter contempt with which I have held my body through the years. I am reminded of a Jimmy Buffett lyric where his girlfriend tells him, “I treat my body as a temple. You treat yours like a tent.”

In many ways, this is a difficult birthday. Within the last week I learned that I am going to have a hip replacement, a root canal and I broke tooth. I’ve started moving around the house like Walter Brennan. There are also outside environmental effects that dim today’s celebration. This is my first birthday without my younger brother Howard, who unexpectedly passed away in August. And as a regular reader of my writings will know, I am not happy that Donald Trump is still counted among the (barely) living. (Did you see where the Orange Buffoon fell asleep during his own Oval Office news conference this week?)

Despite the fact that my body sounds like a bowl of Rice Krispies whenever I stand up, I still feel pretty good for an old guy. I’m an active writer and video editor volunteering for the American Red Cross. I also spend much of my days promoting my latest book and working on my social media presence (such this post). And, of course, I play my greatest role, as husband, father and grandfather. It is amazing how the joy generated by one’s family can blot out the so many negatives the world throws at you.

As I start my 74th trip around the sun, I have plenty of concerns for what’s ahead. But I am optimistic that I will meet all challenges with the same pluck and determination that got me to where I am today. As the other Old Blue Eyes once said, “Regrets, I’ve had a few. But then again, too few to mention.” After all, I did it my way. That'a it for now. Fear the Turtle!