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By April Galloway, September 1, 2010 15:48

I got a real surprise when I was reading Dr. Andrew Weil’s newsletter a couple of days ago.  Apparently, the New York Health Department released a report in 2007 that said a person born in 2004, living in New York City could expect to live to be 78.6 years old.  I know, we hear every day of people who live much longer than that.  Most of us probably know some of them personally.  However, the national average for life expectancy is 77.9.  New York isn’t a long way ahead of that, but the amazing thing is that people living in what may be one of the most stressful, polluted environments in the U.S. are even surviving as long as the national average, much less longer.

Dr. Weil says there are three reasons for it.  The city-wide smoking ban has lowered smoking related deaths by 10%,  New York supplies a wide variety of healthy food options, and New Yorkers WALK.  Not only do they walk more than most of us, they appear to do it faster. Wandering slowly in New York City quickly marks you as a tourist.

In New York, there are many people who don’t even own cars.  Most people, whether they own a car or not, take the subway or the bus as close to their destination as possible, then walk the rest of the way.  People walk to the corner store, bar, or restaurant instead of driving.  New York is not a city with acres of  convenient parking lots at every store.  Even people who drive to the area where they want to shop or have an appointment, must park in a centralized location and walk to finish their trip.   Their environment forces them to exercise.

On the other hand, the environments of those of us who live in suburbs or small towns discourage us from getting natural exercise in our daily lives.  Our neighborhoods, for the most part, contain nothing but houses.  Zoning laws prohibit stores and offices from being interlaced with our homes.  Our downtown areas are mostly dying or being transformed into government centers.  There is very little in the way of traditional shopping venues.  Most of our shopping and dining is done in malls or along commercial strips that are likely to be several miles from our neighborhood and difficult to reach without a car.  Even those that are only a short distance away frequently don’t encourage walking because there are few sidewalks.

Many small towns and the outlying areas of cities, don’t even offer public transportation.  Life without access to a private vehicle is difficult in these locations.  We all own cars of some kind.  Walking simply isn’t part of our routine existence.  To exercise, we are forced to join a gym or drive to a park with a walking trail.  We have to plan a time for it in our already packed  schedules.

My neighborhood does have sidewalks, but I still have a tendency to drive to the park to exercise.  The trail is so much nicer than a sidewalk and there is no traffic to interrupt my path.  Of course, on days when it is too hot, too cold, pouring rain, or my schedule gets too tight, it is easy to opt out of the exercise and leave it for a “later” that never arrives.  New Yorkers, on the other hand, cannot make that choice.  Their walking is built into their lives and they have to go to work, or to the store, whatever the weather.

While they, and the citizens of many other cities as well, walk to live, we who live in a supposedly healthier world, fight to do as little organic walking as possible.  We circle the parking lot looking for the very closest parking spot to the door to save ourselves that extra 50 feet of walking.  When shopping at several stores in the same strip mall, we go back to our cars and drive to the store at the other end, instead of walking there and back.

I live less than a mile from my downtown area and the library used to be located there.   In spite of the fact that I could have walked it easily, I never did.  I drove down and parked as close as possible to avoid that extra few feet, just like everyone else.  The library is now in temporary quarters in the mall, and guess what happens.  Yes, we all drive there and park as close to the entrance as we can get.  They get frequent comments from patrons about how nice it is that there is now such convenient parking.  We will be building a new library and one of the areas of concern is providing enough of that convenient parking so that people can avoid too much walking.

Scientists say that simply walking for 30 minutes to an hour, and not necessarily all at once, just five days a week could lower our chances of diabetes, high blood pressure and many other debilitating diseases.  Exercise is actually good for arthritis and it helps make our bones stronger.  I know that our environment has a big influence on how we handle our daily routines, but we should be making an effort to overcome the unhealthy aspects of that environment instead of giving in to it.  Park at the edge of the parking lot, walk that extra 150 feet into Walmart or Target.  It will help you live longer.

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By April Galloway, July 1, 2010 19:07

Family reunions come in all shapes and sizes.  We’ll be having an unofficial one in a couple of days as most of us gather at Jeanne and David’s for the 4th.  There will probably be about a dozen of us.  Mostly just from Kentucky, but Jamie and her kids will be there from Charlotte.  Over the years, it has become routine for us to use July 4th as the beginning or end of vacation time.

Last weekend we engaged in a more formal “reunion” when Davie, Jim and I took Kenneth with us to Ohio for the Pearson Family annual reunion.  Just another excuse for a road trip.

Waterfall at Monkey Island

We left here on Saturday morning and stopped in Cincinnati for a visit to the zoo.  Their zoo is nice, but our time was limited and the weather was way too hot for hiking anyway.  Davie got tired and went back to the gate to sit in the shade and wait for us.

The Big Cats are my favorites.

Jim, Kenneth and I saw about half the exhibits.  We concentrated on the ones that included shade or air conditioning.   They had a number of “Big Cats” that weren’t really very big inside a big building with glass walls between us and them.  We also went through the reptile house and the indoor bird exhibit.  Many of the animals outdoors were either asleep or hiding in the shade at the back of their enclosures.  They have a Lorikeet cage similar to the one we visited in the Bahamas.  Kenneth got to have beautiful, brightly colored birds perching all over him again.

Heading for a nap after a refreshing dip.

We were disappointed that the Polar Bears were nowhere to be seen. Their enclosure seemed to be empty, but there was no sign to explain.  Perhaps they were simply hiding inside to get away from the heat. We did see black and spectacled bears though.  The black ones were sleeping in the shade.  There was only one spectacled one to be seen and he was swimming when we got there.  At first, all we could see was his head bobbing up and down.  Finally, he came out and wandered over to a shady spot to take a nap.  By this time, I was ready to join him.  Long walks in the 95 degree heat are not my favorite form of exercise.   We found a cafe, bought bottled water and poured it over cups of ice.  I barely resisted the temptation to dump that over my own head.

We spent the night at an older motel in Piqua.  There was no elevator, so we had to drag our bags up to the second floor.  The pool was broken, the snack machine was broken, the sinks were stopped up, and the “Continental Breakfast” consisted of granola bars and coffee.  All the problems were balanced out by the comfortable beds and efficient air conditioning, but we will probably choose a different place next time anyway.

With no real breakfast being offered at the hotel, we ate at Bob Evans then headed to Aunt Jean and Uncle Lowells to follow them to the Park in Springfield for the reunion.  About halfway there, Kenneth asked if we were in the country.  It’s about a far out in the country as you can get without visiting Kansas.

Why do the ducks cross the road? Because Kenneth was feeding them bread.

The strange thing is we wound up at a city park without even a playground.  It is a pretty place with a “crick” running through it and a huge mixed flock of geese, ducks and swans wandering around.  Somehow, no one had remembered to bring paper plates, so we ran over to the nearest store to get some and Kenneth insisted on buying a loaf of bread just to feed the birds.  They finished it off just as the food was ready.

After eating, he and a couple of his 4th or 5th cousins chased each other around under the huge old trees while us “old folks” sat in the shade and visited.  This the only time we see the Ohio relatives.  Aunt Jean is 81 years old and she is the last of my Daddy’s siblings.  About half of my own generation are gone already as well.  Soon, there will be no connections any more because my own children have never been to Ohio and the Ohio branch seldom visits Kentucky.   It’s only been the last few years that we’ve been doing reunions.  I’ve taken some of the grandchildren with me before, like we did with Kenneth this time, but an afternoon isn’t long enough to build a relationship.

Soon after we ate, everyone went their separate ways, getting on with life.  We stopped by the Springfield hospital to see our cousin, Penny, who was having some tests run. She like many other relatives of our generation is beginning to have weight and age related health problems.  I constantly thank God for my good health.  I’ve been generously blessed. I guess some people would say I’m too mean to get sick.

When we left the hospital, Jim decided to play the GPS game for awhile.   We wandered for what seemed like hours down narrow country roads.

Our old Ohio home.

At one point, the road was almost a one lane gravel thing that I was afraid would turn out to be someone’s driveway.  We finally wound up asking directions.  It’s a good thing people there still speak English, otherwise we might still be searching for the way back.  All this was because I wanted to visit Conover and take a photo of the house we lived in when we were kids. We had been by to find it several years ago and, at the time, the people who own it now were in the process of restoring it.  I was curious to see how much they had changed it from what I remember.   I was pleased to find it nearly the same.  The roof over the porch was missing when we lived there and the house was surrounded by trees like the one on the left.  The back yard is now fenced in to protect a swimming pool.  It was a vegetable garden when we were kids.

I was only nine when we left there and came back to Kentucky.  I sometimes wonder how different my life would have been if we had stayed put.   I’m not saying I wish for that.  I have few regrets and cannot imagine giving up my children and grandchildren for any other opportunities I might have missed along the way.

Be sure to visit the gallery for more photos, including my version of the Microsoft XP desktop background.

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By April Galloway, June 29, 2010 01:14

Well, we’ve covered a lot of miles this month.  We left a week ago last Saturday for Charlotte and more or less took our normal route.  Since Jim was driving we stayed on Hwy 41 until we got to I-24, then took I-40 at Nashville, switched to 77 at Statesville and got off at exit 18 to cut across town on Harris Blvd.  It took us a little longer than it would have if I’d been by myself because Jim stops more often, but we were there in plenty of time for dinner.

Everyone but Steph went to the movies Saturday night (she had to work).  We saw Karate Kid.  It’s an old favorite and I was interested to see how different the remake would be.  It really wasn’t like a remake of the same story, more like a new episode of the same concept.  It was pretty good, although I still don’t believe a scrawny kid geek of a kid could learn Karate well enough in just a few weeks to beat older kids who’ve been training for years.  But that has never stopped me from enjoying the story before and it didn’t this time either.  Total reality is not a requirement as long as the plot follows a logical path.

I finally got to shoot a picture I’ve been wanting for years.  The Hickory Grove Baptist Church has a tall steeple with stained glass that is lit at night.  While we were waiting for showtime, we went over and shot several photos.

On Monday, we trekked down to the old Independence Colosseum (It has been renamed Bojangles) for Stephanie’s graduation ceremony.   Considering the fact that Davie counted 590 names in the program, it went really fast.  She was beautiful, as usual and we are all very proud of her.   Afterward, we all went to lunch at a new Japanese place.

College street after dark...

That evening, Jim and I went downtown to do some more shooting.    He wanted a time lapse of the light rail train that runs from seventh street out to the southeast side and I tagged along because I always enjoy spending time in Charlotte’s downtown area.  I sat and read for a couple hours at a sidewalk cafe type place beside the tracks while he worked on his project, then we walked around the block and got some street scenes.

We left early the next morning on our planned  round about journey home.  Kenneth supplied the traditional “Are we there yet?” dialog as we looped up through Virginia, then took surface roads to Cumberland Falls where we spent the first night.

Cumberland River above the falls.

Jim and I got up before dawn to catch the morning light.  Davie took Kenneth to the pool when it opened and we had lunch in the lodge dining room before we started on the second leg of our odyssey.

Although the two-story cabin was nice, the beds comfortable, and the scenery spectacular, we weren’t impressed with the food.  I think the lodge at Dawson’s Pennyrile Park has a better selection on the buffet and the menu was almost identical.  I guess I expected Cumberland to have a more elaborate dining room since it’s a bigger attraction.  If we go back again, we’ll stop at a grocery store before we get there and cook our own food in the full-sized kitchen which is stocked with dishes, pans and everything else you need for an average meal except the food.

It is just a few hours from Cumberland Falls to Richmond, Ky which is the closest town to our next planned stop, Fort Boonesboro.  We checked in to the hotel, then drove out to the park.  Of course, like most state offices, they close at 5pm and we wanted more than an hour for our money, so we decided to return the next morning.

Back at the hotel, we lounged around the pool while Kenneth swam with some kids around his age.  Proving once again what a small world it is, their mother used to live in Madisonville as a kid and attended Pride Avenue school.

Exploring along the way the next morning, we discovered a suspension bridge and Natural Tunnel State Park.  I managed to choke down my fear of heights long enough to take a few shots from the bridge, but the lift down to the tunnel was more than my nerves could stand.  Jim and Kenneth rode it down while Davie and I waited for them above.

I knew going in that Fort Boonesboro was a reconstruction.  Of course, it was impossible for the original logs to survive more than 200 years.  However, I thought it had been rebuilt on the original site.

Gunsmith explaining the art.

I was disappointed to find that it wasn’t, but the original site is inside the park and there are markers to show where important historical spots were.  The dimensions of the new fort are not exact. The walls match, but the cabin roofs are higher.  You can’t go upstairs in any of the blockhouses either.  Only two of the cabins are authentically furnished, while the others are used for offices, storage and little historical demonstrations of candle making, gunsmithery, spinning and weaving, etc.  Even though the fort wasn’t what I anticipated, it was interesting.  Not very authentic or photogenic, but certainly educational.  Kenneth didn’t seem to know much about Daniel Boone before we got there and I think he enjoyed the visit.  The park also has the Kentucky River Museum, which is mostly a house that was home to the locksman and his family.   All in all, we enjoyed the visit, the hotel was comfortable and the lectures of the tour guides were interesting.

The next morning we headed for home, finally getting back on the Interstate system.   Except for a quick stop at My Old Kentucky Home, we resisted all impulses to extend our adventure and got home Thursday evening.  This past weekend we took off again, headed north to Ohio for a family reunion.  But that needs to be another post.  This one is already too long.

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By April Galloway, June 21, 2010 14:22

My brothers and I were blessed with wonderful parents who loved us and tried their best to raise us to be good people.  Our father was a rather reserved man, not cold or distant, just quiet.  He didn’t have much to say, but when he said something we all knew we’d better listen. 

A professor of mine recently made a scornful comment about adults who still call their fathers Daddy after they are grown.  I don’t know what his relationship with his father was like, but I do know that it never occurred to any of us to call our father anything but Daddy.  We loved him and respected him unreservedly for our whole lives.  I am sixty-six years old as I write this, he’s been gone for more than 25 years, and I still think of him as Daddy.

When my children were born, my greatest wish for them was to have a relationship with their fathers like the one I had with mine.  Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.  I don’t want to give the impression that either of my husbands were not good fathers.  They did their best.  However, they were hampered by the fathers they had to use as their examples.  Somehow, they never achieved that combination of respect and affection that my father earned from us.

My children love their fathers and, as they have gotten older, their relationships with them have seemed to improve somewhat.  But, the unfailing affection and support that I knew as a child becoming an adult, has come from other men.  My brothers who never had children of their own have followed in my father’s footsteps and shown my children and grandchildren the trust and support that we got from our father.

Because they are uncles instead of fathers, they haven’t exerted the discipline that we got from Daddy, but all my children and grandchildren know that they can count on my brothers to be there whenever they are needed, whether it is simply attending their ball games or providing them with a place to live, they have a male figure in their lives that they can count on for support.

That is what fatherhood is truly all about.  Someone posted a Father’s Day quote on Facebook yesterday that says it all: “Any idiot can make a baby, it takes a real man to be father.”

Being a good father is so much more than providing a home and food.  It’s about tossing the ball, listening without lecturing, accepting the child as an individual person with dreams and needs of their own, but still managing to require honesty and reliability from them.  So, to all those true fathers out there, whether they’ve ever actually made a baby or not, Happy Father’s Day. You’ve earned it.