This is the day to remember this man...

Gr-grandpa Patrick J. O'Brien, killed in a mining accident on August 21, 1890.
He was 56-years-old.  RIP, P.J.

A Walk in the Woods.

Check it out...

JP put this short tribute film together... Casey:  The Video.

May Your Big Day be Wrinkle-Free, Stevie!

Ann Arbor, Michigan, July 2011

Birthday Boy Steve and his mates (l to r, Mickey, Adam, Christian -- out
 of frame, Mike) are  mesmerized by DS merchandise-meister Joe
 (AKA, Joseph, Guiseppe, Joey, Hey You!, et.al.), as he lectures them
 on proper clothes-folding  techniques, a valuable skill he learned
 in his retail days.

  Visibly impressed by Joe's ability to handle everything from
 wife-beaters to boxers with the easy facility of a laundromat mogul,
 the boys then promptly left the room, and in a sudden rush to
 get back on the road, haphazardly and hastily crammed all their
 belongings into their backpacks. They then stuffed their backpacks
 into any nook or cranny they could find in the van, vowing to begin
 folding their clothes just like Joe at the next stop.  Not.

HB, Steve!

A fitting Tribute to a Fine Specimen of Doghood...

The Mighty Casey

December 24, 1995 - August 12, 2011

The greatest dog in the world was laid to rest on Friday, peacefully fading into canine afterlife. No doubt Casey's new universe will include an endless supply of every imaginable consumable treat, all within easy reach: no counter tops to scale or reprimands for having an insatiable appetite for almost anything--but especially human food.

Casey joined the family five years before the turn of the century and endured into its second decade. In dog years she was old--very old; in the human equivalent, she was ancient (about 108). Her "cousin" Hillary, also a Vizsla who came into the world at about the same time, lived a great long life--and died two years ago.

Our Casey was a true homebody, never straying far from the patio and always preferring the company of people. Vizslas crave attention and affection and behave more like classic "lap" dogs. Even when she was full-grown, Casey wouldn't hesitate to pile on to you or put her face in your face or her paw on your leg--gently intruding on whatever you were doing for a dose of human touch. She made a lot of friends that way, including complete strangers, who often greeted her with a "hi sweetie" or "what a sweetheart" refrain. Indeed, she was beloved.

Though Casey was no watchdog, she did let the others in the local animal kingdom know on whose homestead they were treading. She eventually made peace with deer, probably because they visited so frequently. Bear were another story: her voice went up two octaves at the very sight, hair tense and up on the back, alive in sheer hysteria. At the other extreme, there were skunks, and Casey's curiosity was appropriately acknowledged: she was twice christened, and when she re-entered the house, she couldn't hide her humiliation. While it took weeks for the stench to fade, it only took her a day or two to get her mojo back.

But it was Casey's preoccupation with food that was the thing of legend. In her prime, she was a master thief: creative, crafty, and most of all, persistent. Among her trophies: an entire gingerbread house, loaves of bread, a tin of coca powder, tomatoes from the garden, a pan of brownies, a whole chicken leg (bone and all, stolen at a picnic out of the hand of a guest). Her tastes sometimes strayed from food and included sun glasses, retainers, tar paper, mulch, bar soap, Q tips, paper napkins, candles. Those occasions didn't always end well, but before long, she would be back in the game.

Mark Twain once said, "It's a good thing a dog has fleas, they keep its mind off of being a dog." Maybe there's an analogy here for Casey. She wasn't bored being a dog, she had a mission. Maybe it was her relentless pursuit of the next item of food that kept her youthful and alive for so long; maybe her insatiable appetite actually added years to her existence. Not because of the additional nourishment, but because she was "in the hunt." Maybe that's Casey's legacy for the rest of us: Whatever the pursuit, there is something to always being hungry. 

MJM, 8/14/2011

R.I.P. Casey.

Got news yesterday of this great dog's passing. In honor of a life well fed, er, led, we offer up this vintage post of classic Casey...

Busted!

Newton, NJ, August 2007 - Our exclusive Hidden HackFester Cam caught crafty Casey up to her old tricks -- in this case, sweeping stray Zingerman's bread crusts off the kitchen counter into her mouth. The above photos reveal her time-tested method: Spotting, balancing, reaching, grabbing, gobbling.  As her loyal and long-suffering masters have learned over the years, nothing edible -- from tomatoes to birthday cake to snotty Kleenex (and worse) -- is safe with this insatiably hungry hound in the house.

Before...

Brothers Rodrigo, Jose Maria, Carlitos - Santa Catarina Palopo, circa 1977

Amira and I depart for Guatemala and the above-named village

on Thursday, August 4.  This is the same little community where

 Linda and I spent most of the summers of 1977 and 1978; and

where Mike, Chuck, and I showed up on Christmas Day, 1977 -- 

after an epic bus journey through Mexico -- playing

 Santa Claus and his helpers.

Due to the long Civil War that worsened in Guatemala in

 the late 70s, we were unable to return, and by the time

 the conflict was finally settled (1996), we

 had other countries and other concerns on our minds.

 In any case, it will be unreal seeing all the good people (many of them

kids) that we got to know (and in some cases, have kept in touch with all

these years); and observing all the changes that have come about in this

utterly tranquil place, where fishing, farming, and weaving were the

 villagers' main occupations.  

Stay tuned for the AFTER photo....

It was 30 year ago today...

Photo credit:  Janusch Family Archives, copyright 1981

A rousing, rollicking mariachi band serenades those fortunate enough
 to be in attendance at the Marion-Dominguez wedding reception,
 August 1, 1981.  Note Richard Gump in background, staring
 starry-eyed into the horizon, wishing that he, too, had been born
 Mexican, so that he, too, could have become a mariachi man and
 have performed at weddings and wakes and birthdays and
 anniveraries like this lucky quintet.  

It was just moments after this photo was shot that he snapped
suddenly out of his reverie, ran over and grabbed Mary Ella,
 and dragged her to the driveway-dance  floor.  There,
 the two of them put on a wild disco-dancing display to the oddly
  compatable Mexican music concert behind them, the likes of
which nobody who witnessed it would ever see again....

Better Early Than Never...

Got this apologetic e-card from MJ on 7/24/11, more than a week BEFORE
 our upcoming 30th wedding anniversary.  Note that he has resorted to blaming
poor, decrepit, defenseless Casey for the card's "tardiness."  So sad.

My reply is below card:

Happy (belated) Anniversary! Just a belated good wish for your now past anniversary! Of course we would have been on time with a call, text, or email, had we not be distracted with Casey's continuing loss of body weight; she's now about 30% of her full adult girth. But she still has a ravenous appetite and can still hold herself up, so we trudge on... We hope you enjoyed a wonderful anniversary dinner! XXOO, The Marions _____________ You can tell us in person Mr. Mgoo... our "now past" anniversary  isn't until Monday, August 1. Or you can recast this email to  suggest an early anniversary greeting.... Either way, early or late, we ALWAYS appreciate the thought, Mikey.   wom

On OUR birthdays, WE go for cake and ice cream...

Le Maison Carpentier, Paris, May 2007

(l to r) Marc, Pierre, Amira, Linda, Marie-Silvie

 

However, on his recent Anniversaire (7/21), Pierre -- French to his

 very marrow -- went for more mature delicacies as pictured just below...

(drum roll please) champagne, fig jam, and foie gras (aka force-fed

goose liver).  You have to hand it to him, HE knows how to PARTY.

Hope it was tres great, Pierre.  My condolences to the geese.

 

The aforementioned foie gras candidates

at feeding time, choking down their meal.

The evolution of a name...

He entered this world at what has to be the most

inconvenient hour ever... 3:21 am.  Due to their

understandable grogginess at the time and the pressure

 to  come up with something on the spot, Martha and

 Bill quickly settled on the name Baby -- brilliant,

 really,  rebecause what was he, if not a baby?

In the morning, after sleeping on it, they came to

 their senses and gave him a proper calling card:

 John Pruitt, an O'Brien-Marion hybrid,

the best of both worlds.

Today, we celebrate the early arrival of little "Baby"

Marion those many years ago.  All the Best on Your Big

Day, Brother Baby (aka, JP).

 .

Baby Marion Himself, in an archival

Harper Hospital photo taken shortly after birth.

 

30 years of deciding what to order...

Gettysburg, PA - HackFest2004

RJ and Mary Ella scanning a menu, and showing in

this simple act, total togetherness in their thought processes;

an instinctive willingness to compromise; complete and utter

 regard for each other's likes and dislikes; and a selfless

determination to "share" (if that's what it would take). 

On this particular occasion, RJ got a martini, then a

second; Mary Ella, got a Cosmo, then a second. 

After that, they were most definitely on the same page.

Congratulations you two on your three decades of

harmonious decision-making.... 

Home Invasion.

    (pictured above, left to right) Amira. Steve, Mickey, Adam, Joe, Linda, Mike, Christian

 7/10/201 - Ann Arbor, MI- The boys of Delicate Steve take time
out  from their summer tour to scarf down Cottage Inn pizza and
Monterrey cervezas with their lovely hostesses Madame Amira and
Mrs./Dr. Marion.  As repayment for the hospitality, the unwitting
band mates were later obliged to sit through a lengthy slide show entitled
Guatemala 101, which they graciously did, thereby earning breakfast
the next morning. 

Note:  1157 Warrington Drive has been officially designated as a National
Heritage Site with the bronze plaque -- which is now being produced in
Washington and which will hang over the front door -- to read: 

Delicate Steve Slept Here.

It's Official...

Key West, FL  7/3/11 - Joel & Charlene, at the very

moment they were pronounced "Man and Wife."  (Or was

it "Husband and Woman?")   Well, regardless...after an

18-year trial run, they went ahead and linked ball to

chain, then sealed it with a kiss.

The spectacular surfside ceremony began with

 mojitos, which I've quickly come to believe should

be a mandatory prequel to every wedding, funeral, baptism,

confirmation, graduation, etc. etc.  And it proceeded perfectly

from there.

Mojito:  Should be required.

 Congratulations Mr. & Mrs. Martin or Mr. Martin and Mrs. LaCasse

 or Mr. Martin and Mrs. LaCasse-Martin. No matter how you choose

 to go, we couldn't be happier for you. 

HB, Maggie...!

The Birthday Girl herself, a minature version anyway,

exuding the signature style (more like elan) and sheer

 sense of cool that makes her T.O. & O.** 

All the Best on your Big Day, Maggie!

Fashion note:  Maggie's ensemble (clothing and accessories)

 by John Galliano.

John Galliano Himself.

**The One & Only

Ye Olde Train Station...

Hackfest92-Wolverine/IndianRiver

Who's having the best time at this gathering?  Clearly Michelle.

And the Most Perfectly-Posed Award goes to... Matty.

Most distracted? Amira.  Most determined not to smile?  Maggie.

Alas, there will be no more HackFests at Ye Old Train Station...

we sold it a few years back.  It now serves as a canoe, kayak, and

tube livery, catering to the annual influx of tourists (AKA,

 "Fudgies - Northern Michigan has lots of fudge shops).

  C'est la vie!