Coffee Times

Body, Blood, Soul & Divinity

2008-09-08T14:53:00.009-05:00

In adoration this past weekend I was reflecting on Jesus' greatest miracle, the Eucharist. I repeated over and over in my mind as I gazed at the monstrance, "Body, Blood, Soul & Divinity" . The more I reflected on it the less I comprehended. "I can not possibly comprehend 'Body, Blood, Soul & Divinity'", I thought. When I get past transubstantiation of the wafer it's somewhat easier to 'grasp' 'Body' and 'Blood'. I get past transubstantiation because I believe Jesus is divine and as such can do anything. 'Body' and 'Blood' are easier to comprehend because those are physical things that I have seen and touched in my life. I'm familiar with this aspect of human existence. But the aspect of 'Soul' and 'Divinity'?! Jesus' soul? His divinity?

Have you ever tried to grasp the size of the universe? National Geographic is famous for the many foldouts included in their magazines. Maps of different lands, diagrams of archeological digs, satellite images, etc. One I remember tried to display the size of the universe. It started from the solar system (oh sure, I can comprehend that simple size (NOT!)), which is then represented by a pin hole in the galaxy, which is then represented as a pin hole in a cluster of galaxies, which is then represented as a pin hole in an area the size of a 3 inch square, which is....you get the idea. It's virtually impossible to grasp the size of the universe.

Or how about a trillion, trillion dollars?

I heard a scientist say they now know the numbers of atoms in the universe (arrogant Man!)...It's the number 1 with 70 zeros after it. "A trillion trillion trillion trillion trillion trillion atoms!" he said emphatically. Listening and trying to comprehend these dimensions makes me feel like my brain is only one atom in size! And yet, all of this 'size' is but a pin hole to the magnitude of Jesus' miracle of the Eucharist! His body, blood, soul and divinity!

Think about it. Find a quiet place and reflect on it. It will bring you to your knees in wonder, awe and humility!

Magnificent, Awesome...

2008-08-31T08:54:00.006-05:00

I found this on the refrigerator. It had been there awhile and I hardly notice the things we put there. That is until I need some important information like a store coupon, Mass or kids schedule. On this piece of paper are the letters for 'Marie Bauer' which are used to describe some aspect of Marie. Marie wrote out the words for 'Marie'. I learned later that Theresa wrote the words for 'Bauer'. What struck me was the words used be each person to describe some aspect of this wonderful girl. For me, Marie's choices speak volumes about how she feels about herself. What comes from these words is a great sense of her goodness and her character. I love 'Rational' and "Endless laughter". We'll see how the 'Rational' plays out when she enters her teens.

Theresa used words which come from a mothers perspective, both loving and kind. They show both love and affection. I

t's a wonderful piece! Clearly a keeper!

6 Special Quirks

2008-08-31T08:10:00.006-05:00

I have been tagged by my niece Catherine on her blog and as such I will need to post 6 Unspectacular Quirks. I’ve chosen ‘Special’ quirks because they are mine and I’m special!

6 “Special” Quirks

1. As any member of my family can tell you, I can’t tell a joke for the life of me! I seem to be the only one who thinks I’m funny! After all, I’m the only one laughing.

2. I can crack the knuckles in my toes by simply curling my toes as hard as I can. It’s fun to hear my three precious girls…Theresa, Stephanie, and Marie moan and groan. Marie is the only one that is truly curious about how I do that!

3. I use Coffee-mate in my coffee and I can’t stand the fact that the powder gets stuck to the inside of the cup above the coffee line! I drink a lot of coffee and to keep from using a lot of spoons I purchase stirrers to stir my coffee. Then I toss them out! My contribution to water conservation. So I use the stirrer to capture this unsightly powder and scrap it into the coffee. Then I’m happy. Well, except for the fact that I now have a semi-dissolved clump of Coffee-mate on my stirrer…what do I do with that!

4. I take after Mom in that I love solitaire. Any kind. When I was in high school soooo many years ago I competed in gymnastics. Before leaving home to go to any meet I had to play solitaire until I won. Made me feel better! Mom had some type of board that could be placed on your lap and I’d sit in a chair and play on that board.

5. I say ‘Holy mackerel!’ a lot. I say it so often I don’t even HEAR me saying it! Holy mackerel!

6. I have an uncanny ability to go to a place once and remember how to get back to that same place! I remember shapes, colors, overall appearances to the specific location and even when I am the least sure of how to get there, I get there. It drives my wife nuts which, of course, puts a smile on my face! When we moved to Atlanta I had spent a lot of time looking around the area for a house on my own. When we finally got a real estate agent involved I’d be able to tell her what was coming up in those areas ahead of time. It drove her nuts because she had lived here a long time and was never sure where she was. And, of course, that put a smile on my face! I attribute this skill to the grace of God and my years doing gymnastics…had to know where I was in space and time at all times!

Chris, Meghan, Cassie, Walter Edward... it's your turn!

Here are the directions:

1. Link the person who tagged you
2. Mention the rules on your blog
3. Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours
4. Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them & leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they have been tagged. (For this rule, I only have 4 bloggers)

Random Thoughts

2008-05-07T08:39:00.002-05:00

Heard on the Church steps...

"Wow, that Mass was only 40 minutes!" said the young mother of two, one at her side, the other in her arms.

"Ya!" said the husband. "That's pretty amazing."

"We'll need to come back here more often." she exclaimed!

Sadness washed over me as I shook my head. While I could understand that for this couple with two kids an hour can seem extremely long,they seemed to be missing the very point of being there. It's being in the presence of God himself that make this time of the week very special. Whyis it so hard to take that time to reflect on the goodness of God and His blessings? Can an extra twenty minutes actually make your day any better while twenty more minutes before the Creator can change you in ways you least expect.

I understand it's hard with two kids. But God placed you in a position to make a difference in their lives and to help form their spiritual lives...even at this young age!

I'm also frustrated with our pastor who seems to be put out by having to celebrate the Mass. It's really strange to observe because if you get him one-on-one he's very personable and willing to carry on with a discussion instead of appearing to be distracted and wanting to move on with his
duties. But before the congregation celebrating Mass is seems soooo disinterested. It distracts me. Keep me in your prayers.

Adoration Reflections...

As I read through my breviary during adoration I reviewed the story of the Saint of the day. I continued to review the upcoming days of the week. I noticed for instance the St. James died in the year 62. St. James was the bishop of Jerusalem in the early days of the Church. I thought, "Gee, he died before the Romans destroyed Jerusalem in the year 70!" Then I thought I'd started at the beginning of the year and look through to find St. Peter. (Clearly didn't have his feast day memorized.) I found St. Thomas and learned that he ministered in India. No known year of death
had been recorded. As I read on it became abundantly clear that some saints had been influenced by saints of their day. The Church honors all of them. Being a visual learner I thought it would be interesting to see a timeline of all the saints, see where their lives overlapped and note the events
of the period, imagining how it influenced their faith and spirituality. Then it dawned on me that there have been thousands of people that have dedicated their lives to Christ and the Church and come & gone, all for the love of Jesus. And that these thousands were only the ones recorded. How many millions lived lives that honored God, reflected their love for Jesus and the many they have influenced?

Dunkin Donut watering hole...

Anyone that knows me knows that I visit the Dunkin Donuts store on Saturday mornings after Adoration. As I sat there last weekend enjoying their coffee with cream and 2 Splenda and a plain bagel, toasted with butter, I was observing the behavior of a little boy across the aisle. He waited quietly and patiently for his parents to get through the line and bring the goodies to the table. His first donut hole was the one covered in white powdered sugar. The second one glazed. By the third one he was becoming more active. By the time I left he was running from his table to the exit and back several times a minute. Clearly, the sugar had kicked in...

What is the name of the dark chocolate donut with chocolate frosting on it?

Heard in the confession line...

"Which confessional is our pastor in?" I thought,

"Should it matter?"

A reflection on the Life of Charles Leo Bauer Sr

2008-01-06T22:26:00.000-05:00

The family would like to thank all of you for taking part in this celebration of the life of Charles Leo Bauer Sr. Charles, Charlie, Chiz, Chizzle, Dad, Grampa, Bill and as of last night we learn, ‘Sea-Baby’. A man of many names with a huge heart, a great sense of humor, a profound love for God, his wife, children, grand-children, ice cream and golf.

Dad and Mom began building their family by first building their home. In that home they would set in place a foundation for living their life fully dependent on God’s grace. As the domestic Church they would honor God, dedicate the home and children to the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary and teach their children to know, love and serve God.

Dad was a man of deep faith, living his life with spiritual integrity! He would be for his wife a wonderful supportive husband. For his children, an excellent example of sacrifice, giving, patience and wisdom. He taught us what was really important in life. Here’s is what some of his children had to say:

”We were (and are) a family that prays together. He gave us his love for the church and faith in Jesus Christ.”
“We knew we had something special, something other families lacked – a loving, nurturing environment.”
“Dad’s faith was my first catechism.”
“Dad never got angry. One time on a difficult project I said "If I were you, I'd be ticked off by now." He said "Why, it's an inanimate object? It doesn't have any feelings against me. If the parts aren't going together, then it's because I'm doing something wrong."
“Dad told us to not cheat in the little things like on our expense reports and tax returns, and to leave what is not yours where it is.”
“Dad paid one of our bills without being asked. When I protested, he said, “Sometimes, you have to be humble enough to accept help because the person giving has a need to give.” When asked how he wanted to be repaid, Dad said ‘You cannot repay me, but it is not free – sometime in the future you will be in a position to help others, and you have to help them in turn.’”
"I was amazed that after having damaged his property accidentally, he was so calm, and patient with me."
“Dad taught me the correct priorities in life – God, spouse, family, and work”

Dad taught us how to enjoy life through his unique sense of humor and keen insight into human nature! I remember the times he would sit with my kids open a magazine and begin to pick out food items and pretend to eat the food right out of the magazine. In amazement, each child would take their turn eating. And how about the stories of Ickus, Kickus and Kaboo. Three boys off on some adventure which almost always ended with saving the town and celebrating with an unending supply of ice cream which never made you sick! And did you ever see him with a bigger smile when he let us kids select ‘Just one.’ piece of candy from a box with a variety of shapes, sizes and flavors. “I love to watch them examine each piece”, he’d say, “and try to determine which one to take.” And how about this time as my sister wrote, “While watching the TV show “Bonanza” Dad started running towards the TV with one of those a big decorative wooden spoons saying "HossCartright it is time to take your medicine!" My how he loved to play!

And play he did….golf that is. He loved his golf. Couldn’t get enough of it and was actually a full member of the local country club until this past year! He was always practicing his swing, reading about some obscure new method to straighten out the ‘dip’ in his swing. Nothing could stop his practicing. The iron with the heavy rock taped to the club head, remember? Golf balls and tees everywhere, a driving tee with net along side the house, His favorite saying, ‘Let’s go hit a bucket of balls!’, shagging his drives on some remote piece of property. He had a drive that was straight and true and a putting skill that was as he called it ‘deadly accurate’. If he were here now he’d want this whole eulogy to be about golf.

Dad could often be heard confusing the names of his children. Joe was John, John was Joe, Mary was Loretta, Loretta Mary, Stephen was Peter, Peter Stephen, Paul was Charles, Charles Paul. Anyone of us could be called by any combination! We once toyed with the idea of wearing name tags. They’d be wrong of course but it would have been fun to see his smile. We did however decide to call him Bill. It only seemed fair! Eventually a greeting of ‘Hey Bill’ would become a greeting of affection.

For Dad Christmas time was the most special time of the year. It was a time where all the elements he cherished so dearly came together – God, Church, family and child-like excitement. As the head of the family he kept the focus where it should always be. God first and foremost. He began a tradition that has endured, continuing in all of our homes. We would begin Christmas eve reading scripture and singing songs. We’d bless the Christmas tree with holy water, bless the manger scene and pray before the Christ-child. In blessing the manger we’d pray, “Make it be for us a means of sanctification, that imitating His humility our soul maybe a worthy dwelling place for His rebirth.” In the end we would wish each other a very personal ‘Merry Christmas’ followed by a loud and boisterous meal.

This past Christmas Eve we all prayed for Dad as he lay confined to a bed humbled by a debilitating disease and near death. Dad’s soul had been prepared by his years of faithfulness and so he was again reborn! Our Lord and Savior called him to join the community of saints, to hold close those that had gone before him and for which he loved and missed. Joseph would be John; Fr. Jerry was Fr. Paul; Alice was Katie, Katie Alice, and heaven forbid he call St. Peter St Stephen! But Leo would be Leo I’m sure for he had no other reference point! And Leo would show him around the place, Dad right in step with him! Imagine if you will with me that Leo shows him around and leads him to his home, the one he build by all the good he did while here with us. The caring and loving way he treated everyone. A majestic place it would be and Dad would be in awe. The Lord would greet him, he would prostate himself before Him. Jesus would raise him up and welcome him home! We love you Dad.

Sheets Of Life

2007-10-25T07:02:00.000-05:00

I did some house cleaning in my home office today. I needed to because I wanted to get organized so I could have an efficient office space as I start my new job. A funny thing happened while I was cleaning out files… I ran across my life! For real! Pieces of my life were condensed into a set of Pendaflex files! Insensitive leaflets of life. Sheets of life! Here’s just a short list of what I found:

A paystub from my first employer in Clearwater, FL
Printed emails from coworkers in the company I worked for in Tampa
A letter of recommendation from the CEO of the start-up company I helped get underway in Atlanta and info on the amount of severance I received from them
Hundreds of letters I wrote to a wide variety of employers as I struggled to get out of the unemployment line during difficult economic times
Mortgage information during a refinancing effort
A cartoon I drew after I had completed an exercise to determine what type of work I’d be passionate about
An article from Scott Hahn titled ‘The Fourth Cup’,
Blank labels to prepare yet another folder of life’s little sheets
Plans for constructing an outdoor barbeque and a miter saw table (not together…um, let’s see. What a combo! Barbeque grill w/miter saw table! The images this conjures up can be rather scary!)
Old resumes needing serious updates
Death certificates of my in-laws - needed to file insurance and property claims
Mother’s Day cards with cute sayings from the kids
Instructions for assembling a model of the U.S.S. Constitution.

These eight and one half by eleven sheets of paper represent events in my life that define, in part, who I am today. I’m sure you’ve heard about how people have a vision of their entire life passing before their eyes while going through a near death experience. As I leafed through the papers deciding what to keep and what to toss I was struck by all that it represented. I was equally impressed by how much emotional pain and struggle could NOT be gleaned from these sheets of life. How one represented a great experience while another a tragic event full of tears and agony. These sheets of life in a drawer in my office witnessed the rising and setting of the sun for years on end while I had moved on to the events of today. They witnessed the passing from one event in life to the next that only a few could appreciate. Now, during one of the better times, I can look back, reflect and toss all that away because it simply doesn’t matter now.

Only a Dad

2007-09-13T23:09:00.001-05:00

There are times when I need to re-read the following poem by Edgar Guest (1891 – 1959). It’s best read with a cup of Gevelia’s Raspberry Chocolate coffee, a healthy dose of Coffee-mate and a touch of sugar. It is even BETTER to add a few Pepperidge Farms Milano dark chocolate cookies too.

I thought other Dad’s who may not be familiar with Guest’s work would appreciate it.

Only a Dad
by Edgar Guest

Only a dad with a tired face,
Coming home from the daily race,
Bringing little of gold or fame
To show how well he has played the game;
But glad in his heart that his own rejoice
To see him come and to hear his voice.

Only a dad with a brood of four,
One of ten million men or more
Plodding along in the daily strife,
Bearing the whips and the scorns of life,
With never a whimper of pain or hate,
For the sake of those who at home await.

Only a dad, neither rich nor proud,
Merely one of the surging crowd,
Toiling, striving from day to day,
Facing whatever may come his way,
Silent whenever the harsh condemn,
And bearing it all for the love of them.

Only a dad but he gives his all,
To smooth the way for his children small,
Doing with courage stern and grim
The deeds that his father did for him
This is the line that for him I pen:
Only a dad, but the best of men.

As the aroma of the coffee penetrates my senses and the dark chocolate Milano dissolves in my mouth, I think of my own Dad. My Dad is a wonderful man. A man of great integrity! At 82 years young he represents for me all the good things we imagine in a father. Every Dad should be like my Dad. When I was a child he was fair, just, a disciplinarian and a fantastic teacher. Patient with us beyond my own ability to sustain. Wise with the wisdom of the Holy Spirit he provided guidance as I grew up and gave direction to my life. Conservative in nature, brought on by the effects of the Great Depression and building his own home with little disposable money. I can remember searching the ground around our home for nails to finish a job we were doing, watching him straighten them and hammering in even the most crooked of them. All the while wondering, “Why don’t we just go get some new nails?” This conservative approach to life never stopped him from giving us a banana split at the local ice cream shoppe when we ourselves accomplished a great feat or difficult task! Even today I can’t throw out a nail whether I need it or not. Today I take my youngest daughter out on a date occasionally, as I did her older siblings, to spend personal one-on-one time just to show I care, like my Dad did.

How do you thank a man who provided for his family without complaint? Who was there when you needed him but wise enough to step back when you needed to try 'your way'? No words can express this feeling of gratitude I have for the opportunity to be his son, under his tutelage, feeling my way through this world that challenges me daily. How do you thank the man that provided the most profound, eternal direction in your life…pointing the way toward Jesus? Standing behind me, turning me in the right direction and with a little nudge saying, “Go this way each day son!” And as I step forward each day, I turned to him in my thoughts only to see Jesus there too, with His arm on my Dad’s shoulder, happy with his efforts!

There is a funny family story we tell about a time when we were all complementing my Dad on his positive qualities. I remained quiet while listening to others. When I was asked what I had to say I sat upright and said robotically, “Charlie Bauer’s great! Charlie Bauer’s great!” It got a big laugh. Now, after having many miles of life’s road behind me I realize I misjudged him. Today I’d say, “Charlie Bauer the Great!”

Dad – know that you are loved beyond words.

Innocent Play Ends The Day

2007-03-29T07:33:00.000-05:00

As I have mentioned in some of my earlier blogs, I was raised in Tewksbury, Massachusetts, a small town not far from Lowell, Mass. Most winters were very cold and snow was always expected. Some years the snow was deeper than others but we always got snow.

One winter evening I was in my next door
neighbor’s yard. We were competing against each other to see which one of us could throw a snowball from his yard to the street. This was no small feat for two reasons. We were standing approximately 120 feet from the street and the street was lined with pine trees on both sides. It was early evening but still dark out. From the street you could see where your snowball landed because the street lights would show the impact. If your throw lodged into the trees, no impact could be seen!

The best approach for the throw was to arc the snowball over the trees and let it drop onto the street. Kind of like the ‘Hail Mary’ pass in football. Throw it on a high arc, clear the trees and drop it into the street. We were doing this with limited success. What was making the throw most difficult besides dropping it between the trees was your ability to pack the snowball tight enough to withstand the initial launch and not be too heavy to make the distance. You didn’t want the snowball to break apart as soon as you released it! After each throw we enjoyed chiding each other when the throw didn’t make it. “My next throw”, I thought, “would be right on target!”

As I released the snowball I knew it would have the distance but not sure if I could drop it in the street. One thing is for sure…it was terrible timing. Immediately after I released it a car appeared from our right traveling slowly down the snow covered street. My friends and I stood in fear as we watched the car approach the point were our snowballs were landing. Then, SPLAT! The snowball landed at the base of the windshield. You could see it splatter across the windshield and up over the car. The perfect throw. To our amazement the car moved along as if nothing happened. We were equally shocked to see it return moving even slower than before as if the driver was hunting for those darn kids that threw the snowball.

Having immediately assessed the situation two of us bolted for the woods behind our houses. Our neighbor remained saying, “I’m not leaving. I didn’t do it.” Besides, it was his yard. We waited on the snow covered ground huddled behind some fallen trees. We waited and waited. When we thought we’d waited long enough, we waited some more. The cold, damp conditions finally got the best of us and we left, each to his home.

As I entered our house from the back porch I heard a commotion at the front door. In the living room I saw my mother and older brother John arguing with a man at the door. My mother was saying, “If he said he didn’t do it, then he didn’t do it!” Hmmm. Could it be? My older brother was going to take the blame? Cool! Alas, my conscience got the better of me and I approached the door, confessed my actions to both of them and apologized to the man, explaining it was all very innocent. Like he believed me huh?

The next day we learned from the boy next door that the man drove into his driveway, began yelling at him and went so far as the hit him. Even though I knew it was not right nor fair, I chuckled to myself. “He should have run away with us.” I thought. And, yes I apologized to him and his mother for not remaining there and accepting responsibility for my actions, which while very innocent carried consequences nonetheless.

The Chicken or the Acorn

2006-05-19T18:00:00.000-05:00

You know the old debate about which came first, the chicken or the egg right? Most everyone does. Except for small children of course. They are not meant to understand the many intricacies of life. Its beginning and its ending.

Now I know that the quality of education has deteriorated over the last few decades but this recent event has me wondering. Here’s why.

The other day my son Paul and I were out in the back yard doing some cleaning up the grass, picking up fallen branches and generally clearing weeds and debrie from the beds and surrounding area.

Since it was spring we were noticing that there were a lot of new trees sprouting throughout the beds. As I pulled out a small tree, my wife, who was watching us from the comfort of her chair asked, “Hey what are those plants anyway?” It was hard to tell from where she was sitting. I said, “It’s a tree.” “Oh, come on.” she said. “What are they?”

“Theresa, it’s a tree, like that there and that one over there.” pointing to more newly sprouted trees (conveniently located under the trees they fell from). Like all these trees in our backyard!”

I clearly remember as a child while growing up in Tewksbury, Massachusetts that in the Fall there would be acorns all over the place. Tewksbury was a small rural town not far from the New Hampshire border, just outside the city of Lowell. There was an abundance of trees in our neighborhood and the street was lined with them. (Made for a beautiful canopy over the street when covered with snow…but that’s another blog.) The acorns fell off the trees along with the leaves. There were so many acorns the kids in the neighborhood would gather them up into fairly large buckets! We’d have fights with them, throwing them at each other, trying to put a sting on the other kid without hitting the face. Heck, we’d even remove the ‘cap’ and core out the center, punch a hole in the side, insert a toothpick and pretend we were smoking a pipe! Clearly good old boyhood fun in the early 60’s. We also knew one important point. If these acorns were left to their own natural cycle of life, they grow into trees! That’s why my wife’s next question was a real shock.

“Where do trees come from?” she asked. There is no effective adjective I could use to explain the reaction I had. The look on my face must have said two things to the casual observer, a) “I can’t believe she just said that!” and b) “Of course my wife of 28 years just asked that!”

As I looked over at our son I could tell he couldn’t believe his ears either. After all, he was picking up his chin off the ground!

“What did you just say? Did you say what I thought you said?” I asked.

“No, really. Where do trees come from?” she repeated.

My wife is from Weirton, West Virginia and went to Catholic school. Weirton is an old steel mill town. Her frequently cited memory is that of graphite falling from the sky and collecting on everything. Made for some interesting playground activities. But, she went to Catholic school. That was suppose to be a better education. I on the other hand went to public school. Primarily because I was 4 of 8 and the money wouldn’t stretch that far as my older brother and sister went to Catholic schools too! So I thinking to myself, “Where were you when they taught this subject?”

Realizing I could NEVER convince her any other way, I gently pulled out a newly sprouting tree, acorn neatly attached (as you can see here) and showed it to her.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she exclaimed.

But, alas, I wasn’t. Well we all had a good laugh at that one. My wife didn’t seem the least embarrassed. She's been here before.

Well the next day I was putting together my mother-in-laws lunch and since it was another beautiful spring day, I took her out onto the back porch deck where we shared our lunch together. And I had to ask. I had to because I was still grappling with the hole concept of my wife not knowing about how trees grew! “Annie” I asked, “you know where trees come from don’t you. How they grow and everything, right?”

“No.” she replied. “Where do they come from?”

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!

Pawtuckaway State Park

2006-05-19T14:59:00.000-05:00

When I was young our family would take summer trips to various parts of the country. We'd pack up the camping gear (Dad probably did most of that work!), cram into the car and off we went. My Dad's job was such that he needed to visit several State offices of the American Heart Association to train the staff on accounting policies and procedures. He took that opportunity to bring the family along during the summer months so we could camp and enjoy the summer visiting a host of state parks throughout the eastern United States.

One summer, when I was around 12 or 13, we found a new park that was not too far from home. It was newly opened and provided all of us with plenty to do. I remember this park specifically because of two significant events that occured there. The first was getting to know some of the other campers, especially this cute girl. Ah! The first girl in my life and to me, she was pretty. I specifically remember a time where we kissed on the beach while under a beach towel. (Wouldn't want anyone to see us kissing!) I do remember that she was from Sommerville, MA, we from Tewksbury. I had no idea where Sommerville was. Could have been on the other side of the world as far as I was concerned. I just knew it wasn't Tewksbury so for me she lived far away. We spent most of the time at this park together with her friends and other kids our age. We would hang out on one of the bridges crossing a creek between two areas of the park. As is likely to occur when an immature boy is smitten by a lovely girl, he feels the need to impress her. Seems that the thing to do then was to remove the nuts and the bolts that where used in the guard rails and toss them into the creek. It was risky but it impressed the girls! And I wasn't the only boy doing it but clearly we were not thinking of safety, the danger created by weakening the railing, etc. We had more important things on our minds.

"Stephen!" I remember my Mom's voice calling me from my basement bedroom shortly after returning home from our vacation. "Stephen" she called again! (Hey, a kid never responds on the first call.) I indicated that I heard her and came to the foot of the steps leading up to the 1st floor of our home. There she stood looking down at me and asked me if I had removed some bolts from a guard rail at the park. I sheepishly admitted that I had. It seems when the parks rangers discovered the issue they began to ask the campers questions. They talked to the girl and others who identified me by name. They, in turn, contacted my mother. Ugh! How embarassing. She'd never understand I was just trying to impress a girl! "Well," she said, "They want us to pay them for the repairs and to never go back to that park again! It makes me so mad because we really liked that park and it was close to home!" As if that wasn't enough to make me feel terrible, she said the most dreaded thing she could say, "Wait 'til your father comes home."

Oh, man. "Wait 'til my father comes home" meant a disciplinary act that would be sufficient to make me regret ever doing it and would instill the necessary conversion of will to never do something like that again! As I returned to my bedroom to begin the long, excrutiating wait period before the arrival of Dad at my bedroom door, I couldn't help but have mixed feelings. Heck, she turned me in! I thought she liked me! Well, if that was the case then she must have been uncomfortable giving the rangers my name and she too must have been embarassed along with her family. And my Mom really did like that park. She mentioned it several times throughout our stay. And there goes the money I'd be earning delivering papers for the next few weeks to repay the park. Man, this growing up stuff was going to be difficult!

It's Spring!

2006-05-19T14:40:00.000-05:00

Here I sit on the lower back porch just outside my basement door. It's a beautiful Spring morning in the mid 50's as I sip my firt cup of coffee. Freshly ground Dunkin Donut beans flavored with a touch of haselnut and sprinkle of cinamon. It feels warm in my hand and teases my sinuses in this brisk morning air.

It's a joy to be here in the morning instead of in traffic along I-75, just north of Atlanta. I am blessed with a job that allows me to be able to spend most days at home. Oh, I do a lot of phone calls, attending conferences on the latest issues on the projects we are working on. But to sit here and listen to the morning sounds of the wide variety of birds is just awesome. Woodpeckers hack away at the tree bark hoping to unearth an ant or two. Blue jays, Cardinals, and Robins huslte about looking for the first worms of the day. Some pick twigs to begin their nesting. Each has a unique sound, some brief and sharp while others are melodious. Funny how when you are busy with your day you tend to not hear these simple wonderful sounds.

But here I sit savoring the last few sips of my coffee. Ah yes, time to get to work. People to see, things to do, places to go! As I moan and groan while lifting myself off my favorite Adarondak chair I can only think about taking a beak at mid day and returning to this very spot, wife in tow to discuss the morning and upcoming family events....

"I'm caucasian."

2006-05-18T16:35:00.000-05:00

At least the last time I checked. Yup, just this morning. Although while living in Florida I may have had more of a tan than I do now, I'm still caucasian. Checked that box off on many a form throughout my life.

My company recently merged with a competitor and we are finished upgrading all of our letterhead, envelopes, etc. Now they have finally gotten around to updating our security badges too! So I went into the office today to exchange my current badge with the new one. As I waited in line with my colleagues those that had just received theirs were making comments on the photos. Of course, I mentioned out loud that I hoped they would take a little weight off my image. The guy in front of me looked at his and said, "Yup. They did for me."

When I got the ID I immediately noticed my name spelled correctly. Afterall, we Bauer's are very familiar with spelling our last name because everyone we talk to seems to assume it's spelled the more common form "Bower". Well, I then looked at the photo and said, again out loud, "The names spelled right but the photo's wrong. (with a pause for effect) I'm caucasian!"

Sure enough they had some image of a black person I didn't recognize on my ID badge. They of course apologized and took back the ID with the promise to call me when it is ready. Made for a funny way to start my day and a quick process in getting an ID! Almost!

Into the 21st Century…

2006-05-03T21:55:00.000-05:00

Several months ago I found myself looking out the 7^th floor window that partially surrounds my office cubicle. It’s early morning, around 8am and I’m enjoying a cup of Dunkin’ Donut coffee with a touch of French vanilla flavoring and a sprinkle of cinnamon. I feel the warmth against my nose as I take a second sip. Down below, at ground level, I see a fellow employee, crossing the driveway on his way into the building. Ron is in his sixties, tall with white hair. As I watch him I wonder if he has a weeks worth of clothes in his closet like those he is wearing. “He must.” I think, “because he wears the same outfit every day!” Navy blue jacket, light blue long sleeved shirt, red tie and light grey pants. It’s the same every day. Winter, summer, spring and fall. He arrives exactly at the same time and leaves at the same time too. Like clockwork. On a recent business trip we shared, I asked Ron if he ever works without his tie. (After all, business casual has been the norm for years now.) Nope. He even tells a story that while at a conference he attended they announced that any attendees to the social hour that evening wearing a tie would have it cut off. Just before they broke for that days session they reminded everyone about the social and the president of the organization announced that no ties were required…except for Ron’s. Seems Ron spoke to him after the first announcement about how he never has his tie off and got his point across.

Listening to Ron talk about his career in the telecommunications industry is like reading a book of its entire history. I half expected him to tell me he was in the room when Alexander Graham Bell spoke those immortal words. Suffice it to say that Ron is an expert in all things regulatory within the industry. He has been instrumental in creating the laws passed by the FCC in regulating the Bells. He has been in negotiations with all the Regional Bells to establish purchasing agreements between his company (MCI at the moment) and the Bells. He know their tricks and their misdeeds.

I, on the other hand, have often been frustrated in trying to get Ron to explain how the Bells build telecommunications networks, what the piece parts are, how they are sold and what we can buy. Like Heinz, there’s 57 varieties! My frustration is partly the result of Ron’s wealth of knowledge and my lack of it! But Ron is a pleasant man. Friendly and always willing to answer your questions…no matter how often you return to ask it again. But Ron is what some may describe as a dinosaur in terms of using modern technology in the course of doing ones work. No, he’s not using an old IBM electric typewriter that’s for sure and he is competent in Excel although only a two finger typist! But a cell phone? Nope. A PDA? Nope. A wireless modem? Nope. A pencil? Yes! A pad of paper? Yes!

Heck, if Ron works from home, which is EXTREMELY RARE, his wife answers. If he’s on a conference call from home and he has to send a file, he hangs up because he only has one phone line!

Recently our boss was responsible for pulling together important information about purchasing local access loops in the State of Florida and he really needed to talk to Ron on a regular basis, being the Access guru that he is! With pressure mounting and upper management to report to our boss got extremely frustrated in trying to coordinate with Ron. In utter frustration, he called his secretary and said, “I have five things I want you to do today. All other things are second priority. First, order Ron a blackberry, a wireless modem for his laptop, a cell phone, open up an Instant Messenger account for him and get him set up on all four systems! Let everyone know this is a high priority!” Well the next day Ron is in his office with boxes stacked every which was, some opened, some still taped up. By the end of the second day Ron was loaded with the latest high technology communications gadget. Our boss was never going to NOT REACH RON AGAIN!

A week later while we were all working together in a meeting when I notice Ron reach down and pull out a blackberry. I’m shocked! He’s adeptly flipping through his emails, reading the most recent communications. Our boss says, “So Ron, how do you like all the new toys you have?” “It has changed my #!*& life forever!” We all laughed.

Several weeks have now passed. I walk over to the coffee pot centrally located on our floor. I pass by Ron’s office and noticed the door closed, the lights out. He should have been in by now! I get back to my desk to see that Ron is on Instant Messenger so I know he’s working. But not at the office? He didn’t come in today? Hope everything is all right. When our secretary arrives I ask her about Ron’s absence. “Oh.” She says, “He hasn’t been in much since we bought him all those toys!” I started laughing! “Ya. He just loves the ability to work from home now.” Living and driving in Atlanta, I totally understand.

And just recently, I was working from home and on a conference call with Ron and our boss. I asked him how he likes all those new devices. He loves them. He works from home a lot now. But I just had to ask…”Say Ron, you wearing a tie right now?” “Nope. A tee shirt and shorts!” We all got a great laugh out of that! “Welcome to the 21^st Century, Ron!”

“Thanks!”

“Fantastic Voyage”

2006-04-21T15:07:00.000-05:00

My eight year old daughter Marie was in the TV room to other night when I came in and began flipping channels because…well, I can. I came upon the early part of the 1966 science fiction movie ‘Fantastic Voyage’ starring Steven Boyd, Rachael Welch, Edmond O’Brian and others. Marie has always had a very active imagination and became quickly fascinated at the miniaturation process they showed in preparing the medical team for entry into the patient. Without a doubt, she was going to watch this film.

Marie has been in a special educations program called ‘Target’ - a name which probably means something but I’ve been to busy to find out. It is for those students that have tested well above the average student. A couple of years ago Marie tested in the top 3 percent of her class. She has been in Target classes ever since.

From the beginning of her classes we have been inundated with school projects. Many of them in the field of science. I’m always somewhat cautious when my children are learning science because I want to be sure they understand that all things learned from science are in fact, gifts from God. I’m sure most of those that have dedicated their lives to the field of science have at least pushed aside God in their thirst for knowledge and understanding. Having watched to Science Channel on cable TV for some time now I can honestly say that God is truly a second thought, if thought of at all.

But for me, when I look at the Hubble Telescope images which are becoming imbedded in so many things these days, I see God! I see the fantastic work of the Almighty. And I want my children to understand, while there are ways to determine many things in this universe, that the universe is God’s to do with as He sees fit.

So here we are, Marie and I, watching this very scientific film discussing what we are seeing and how the body part works or interacts with other parts. Suddenly the medical team takes an unplanned turn (after all, it is a movie) requiring the them to divert from their planned path to the patients brain tumor and re-route their path through the heart! In order to accomplish this the doctors outside the patients body will need to stop the heart for enough time to allow the medical team to pass through the heart and continue on to the brain. Marie and I are watching with interest as the miniature ship is passing through the stopped heart when Marie says out loud, “Hey, where’s Jesus? I thought Jesus was in your heart!” I paused for a moment taking pride in the fact that at this age she seems to get that whole aspect of God and science. Then she turns from the TV to me and says with a wry smile, “That was pretty good huh Dad.”

I had to admit that was pretty good.

Modeling

2006-04-19T22:16:00.000-05:00

My eight year old daughter Marie is a marvel to observe. Ever since she could hold a crayon she has been very imaginative in what she does. I’ve seen her build entire cities out of boxes that are delivered to the house. Complete with paper cut outs for people, details on the hand drawn windows include shades and a flower holder on the sill with lots of flowers. She is very creative and there is not a day that goes by that I haven’t in some small way marveled at her abilities.

Then there was this past weekend where she really pulled a fast one. You see, Theresa and I were on a mission to get Theresa a new pair of shoes. She had just been given new orthotics for her feet and her existing shoes were so worn that they offset the benefits the orthotics would provide. So on Saturday morning after our one hour adoration we set out to our second place of worship…the mall. Marie was in tow ‘cause we were going to buy her a couple of fish for her aquarium. As we bounced from shoe store to shoe store, Marie and I were playing goofy games while Theresa tried on some shoes. At our last stop Marie and I waited outside on a bench playing patty-cake. (Did you know there were tons of versions of patty-cake! Yikes!)

Anyway, after seeing that Theresa was having some success, I stopped patty-cake #1,460 to see how much longer she would need. That’s when Marie followed me in to the store and asked what I thought was an odd question. “Mom?” she said, “Is it ok if I model?” Theresa said that it would be ok. To my surprise Marie walked into the stores window display, grabbed a couple of shoes samples, held them in the palm of her hand and stood there modeling the shoes, slowly turning her head from one to another with a nice smile on her face.

I gotta tell you that this really says a lot about the girl. With her cleft lip and slightly deformed nose she stands there as if she is the most beautiful person in the whole wide world! What a gift to us parents!

To watch the people passing by was equally enjoyable. Some didn’t notice her. Others looked, smiled and continued. The really appreciative ones would pause for a moment and point her out to others. All the while Marie was un-phased by the attention or lack of it. Not one bit of insecurity in this girl I’ll tell you. I turned to Theresa and said, “Look at this girl!” Theresa’s response…”Oh, she does that all the time. She really enjoys it.”

Blocked Arteries

2006-01-09T21:47:00.000-05:00

On the way to work this morning, a 37 mile journey - driveway to garage, there was one accident identified. Fortunately, it was 1 mile PAST the final exit I would be taking. Unfortunately, it resulted in blocking three lanes of traffic in a five lane area of the Interstate. What normally takes around 40 minutes with a stop at Dunkin’ Donuts for coffee and a muffin at the drive thru actually took 1 hour and 30 minutes! For two reasons I was thankful. School was still out for the holidays and Dunkin' Donuts was still open. Otherwise who knew how long it would have taken.

Before leaving work for home I typically view the Georgia Department of Motor Vehicles Navigator site to check the status of traffic throughout the metroplex but especially those roads I take home. A great site by the way and one you can visit while in the area. You can find it at:
http://www.georgia-navigator.com/maps/atlanta
Voila! An accident at the intersection of I-285 and I-75 that is blocking 3 lanes of traffic right at the exit ramp form I-285 to I-75 N. Wonderful! Yet another blocked artery. That’s when it hit me.

I gotta get on the treadmill. If one accident can set me back on the road, what have the years of less than optimal exercise set back my health and the cardiovascular system that looks much like an Interstate and local road network! I gotta get on the treadmill!

Tradition

2006-01-08T13:58:00.000-05:00

It’s the Christmas season again and we see within our families, neighborhoods, towns and villages the unfolding of events, displays and gatherings. These have become the traditions of Christmas here in America. Throughout the world traditions are being upheld and re-enacted to reaffirm our faith and belief in the saving power of Jesus. In our family, since I can remember, we have celebrated Christmas with a special service on Christmas eve that focuses the family on the purpose of Christmas – God coming into the world in the form of His Son, Jesus Christ.

As we prepared this year my son Paul contacted my Mom and asked for two special recipes…Mom’s fruit cake and Jesus’ birthday cake! Yes…we celebrate Jesus’ birth with a birthday cake. And so the tradition continues the process of being handed down from one generation to another. Paul worked diligently on making the fruit cake and as you can see has done a wonderful job

And for Jesus’ birthday cake he did yet another excellent job at preparing the very delicious cake

Christmas is all about traditions and keeping in touch with family and friends. Making those connections binds us together throughout the year.

The Catholic Church teaches us about Sacred Tradition. Sacred Tradition, like the Sacred Scriptures, teaches us about Christ and passes along to the Christian community the Christ-like values we should emulate. As described in the catechism, Sacred tradition began with Christ’s direction to the Apostles to go and preach to all nations. “ In preaching the Gospel they were to communicate the gifts of God to all men.” In the early church it is clear there was no written words of Christ. The Christian communities began spreading the Gospel with the oral teaching from the Apostles. The Apostles teaching became for them words to live by, describing what should be done in this world to attain everlasting life. Do we believe these teachings were LESS important than what is written in the Bible? Of course not as they formed the foundation for the entire Christian community. They dictated the behaviors that were acceptable, those that were not and changed the face of the earth forever. So the Apostles handed it down, from one Bishop to the next until we come to the current Pope, Benedict XVI. This tradition continues to this day and is the reason we Catholics listen carefully to the words of the Pope. Listen and incorporate into our very lives the lessons they convey, the guidelines they address, the live-giving, soul saving direction they provide.

"Chivalry is dead!"

2005-09-28T17:18:00.000-05:00

I was into the early stages of my business trip that day. My usual procedure is to drive to the airport, get through security and get into the terminal before I consider eating anything for breakfast or lunch. When I enter the terminal area but before proceeding to the gate I usually stop at the coffee kiosk assuming, of course, that there is time. This one was like so many others you find in the airport. It had two areas on opposite sides to place and pay for your order. Once you get your coffee there is a separate area for customizing it to your own particular taste.

Naturally, I stepped into the queue (that's a line for the Bauer’s that may be reading this) and waited my turn. Several other customers followed suit. As the customer ahead of me stepped forward and began to place her order a couple in their early 60's sidled up to her and engaged in a conversation about their travels. They had matching shirts, were kind of cute and very excited about where they had been. Hawaii I think. I could tell from their accent that they were from the New York area. They continued their discussion until the customer received her order and began to leave. They cordially said their ‘good byes’ but to my surprise, the couple did not move to the end of the line. After all, they could see the line and there were several people behind me waiting too.

My mind began to enter into the common battle between being kind and being fair. You know the one. “These people have a lot of nerve cutting in line like that!” I thought to myself. “It’s o.k. No real harm. Besides, their order won’t take up too much time.” I continued. But finally, I thought, “No. I would not do this and they should respect the practice of getting in line like the rest of us. Wait, they didn’t even acknowledge that we were here! They have no respect for the fact that we have been waiting. This is clearly not right.”

As the women began to stammer out her order I tapped her on the shoulder and pointed out that the line formed BEHIND me. They both turned to see all those waiting in line and reluctantly decided to move across to the other side of the kiosk to place their order. Before leaving the man said, “Chivalry is dead!”

I bit my tongue!

The woman behind me did not. She leaned forward and said to me, “No. There is a line here and they should get in it!”

As I was walking to the gate with my Vanilla Cafe Latte reflecting on this simple engagement, I began to chuckle to myself. “I can hear this couple now when they return to their home and begin describing to friends and relatives how much they enjoyed their travels. I’m sure there will be the off comment about that rude and impolite man at the airport! ‘It’s a shame what people have become’ they’ll say.”

Yes. It is.

Coffee's First Scent

2004-11-08T14:05:00.000-05:00

My wife hears it from the bedroom. My kids can wake to it in the morning. It's the high pitched sound of the coffee grinder as I prepare to start another day. This day it's Dunkin Donut's house blean, whole bean. I place the ground coffee in the pot and press 'on'. The aroma begins to fill the kitchen and then the whole house. There is nothing quite like it!

I am new to blogging. Heck, the term sounds quite unfamiliar to me. Sounds like we are just bastardizing the English language. But it is what it is, so a blogging we will go.

My brother Paul indirectly introduced me to blogging. He has a blog here http://pcbauer.blogspot.com It's a blog about the events that surround him and his family. I can see how these blogs get intoxicating. Interesting reading about other peoples lives. For me the interest lies in seeing how others live and learning that others struggle to get from here to there just as I do.

My Mom has been writing a weekly newsletter of her daily events for years now. She called it the Carolina Chronicles. It's gotten a very devoted following from family and friends. She does an excellent job. Maybe you'll see some of her posts here. Of course, I'll give her the credit too!