The 5 I's

I’m writing this article under the assumption that you have read the lead-in post …one trophy, one team. For those of you who haven’t – that piece focuses on the team as a whole unit. The importance of this team’s ‘one team’ mentality cannot be overstated – it is how they became Champions… But they are also individuals who I’ve come to know very well and I’d like for you to know them, too. So… here is my follow up piece – be kind it has been a labor of love….

On June 16, 2022 at Medlar Field in State College, PA the Everett warrior baseball team made history with their State Championship win. Those young men became the first baseball team in the history of Bedford County to be State Champions and in that I happen to be lucky enough to claim one of the players as my own, I thought I’d give you a little look beyond the stats because, while the players’ impressive stats surely helped, this win was much more than hits, runs and strikeouts.

For the most part, these boys (I’ve known them for the better part of their lives, they will always be ‘boys’ in my eyes) have played baseball together for 12 years. We parents, being typical sports parents, talked endlessly in those days about “…when these boys are juniors and seniors in high school, they will be something. Anything short of state champs will be a disappointment.”

Ok… it was me… I am “we parents”. But in my defense, here we are, at the end of their senior year (six of the starters were seniors, anyway) and they’ve brought my bold, even arrogant, prediction to fruition.

Make no mistake about it – this entire season was a WHOLE TEAM effort but I want you to know a little about each player; I want you to know the stuff that these boys and their parents are too humble to say (now… if you track down a grandparent or aunt – they’ll tell you all of it… grandparents and aunts somehow get a free pass when it comes to this kind of stuff). I’ll even brag up my own player a bit even though it goes against everything we’ve ever taught our kids.

I need to start with the pitchers – we have a few but in my less than humble, perhaps even a touch-biased, opinion we have the greatest 1-2 punch in the state (the hardest part is deciding which is 1 and which is 2). We have a righty (RHP) and a lefty (LHP), and they couldn’t be more different. The righty is smooth, efficient, and slowly saunters off the field each inning after his job is done. The lefty dares the ball to miss the strike zone, has 1 complete game to his name, and is usually the first kid back to the dugout after the last out. And they’ve been best friends since their first little league practice. There is zero competition between them; they are secure in their respective roles, and they support each other unapologetically.

Now, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the contribution of the other 8 guys on the field when discussing the success of our pitchers. This team could compile one helluva highlight reel complete with diving catches, physics-defying throws, and simple high baseball IQ plays. A baseball pitcher doesn’t win games without help and this team was no exception. The only dark smudge on this pitching season is the glaring omission of our righty on the list of 1st Team ICC-9 All-Stars. It was so egregious a slight that it completely invalidated the entire list for this sports fan. But… this is a feel-good story, so I’ll leave it at that and get back to the team…

When I think of this team, I do so from a defensive standpoint – where they play in the field – and that is how I will present them to you. Of course, the defense changes based on who’s on the mound, so I will use the defense that is most relaxing for me… the one where my kid is not pitching (moms of pitchers – you know). I’m not using any references for stats, what I write here is from memory so forgive me the few errors I know I’ll make…

Trenten Mellott (RHP, SS, bats 1, senior) Trenten is that right-handed pitcher I mentioned earlier. He has a number of complete games which speaks to his efficiency and I’m pretty sure his rare losses were the result of unearned runs. He has a curve ball that’ll make a batter cry. His ERA (a complex calculation that boils down to the number of runs given up, without error, per game) is the best on the team – which is impressive as a stand-alone stat – but when you include the fact he’s pitched the most innings… well – the lowest percentage with the most attempts – the kid is good. He’s the leadoff batter in the lineup and he was made for that spot. He gets on base often and he’s quick. In the Elite Eight battle he tied the game with a sacrifice fly ball to deep right field in the seventh inning to ensure that Everett wasn’t going home just yet. That long fly ball was followed a few batters later by a walk-off grand slam, but the sac fly was crucial to the game, and I hope it doesn’t get lost in the retelling.

I’ve spent a lot of time recently thinking back on Cal’s baseball career and I can honestly say I don’t have a single memory of that life that doesn’t include Trenten. Whether it was the two of them hitting rocks in Trenten’s driveway at the age of 7 or getting their varsity letters their freshman year or watching them drive off for batting practice at the Winning Edge facility; I can’t think of a time that Trenten wasn’t woven into the fabric of Cal’s baseball life. There’s a picture of Cal’s first-ever homerun – Trenten was on base so both boys are in the frame. Cal’s face is sheer exultation and somehow – Trenten’s smile is bigger. When one hits a homerun – the other is the first to welcome him at the plate. They talk each other through rough stretches on the mound and they sought out each other after each playoff win this season, the pictures of them hugging, crying… celebrating… are images I’ll treasure forever. There simply is no ‘Cal playing baseball’ for me… it’s ‘Cal and Trenten playing baseball’.

Ian Klahre (C, sophomore) Generally speaking, over the past two seasons Ian has been a good catcher; specifically speaking, over this playoff run Ian was a GREAT catcher. Our pitchers are so different in style, what they throw, how they throw, and Ian moves between them seamlessly. He calls the entire game (meaning he tells our pitchers what pitch to throw), the pitchers shake him off here and there, but for the most part Ian calls a brilliant game. I don’t have the stats to back this up but I’m pretty sure he did not have a passed ball in 6 playoff games and that includes wild pitches; he blocked everything that came his way. He was a brick wall at the plate while laying down a pretty nifty tag to help send us to the Championship game. In the Championship game he threw out a runner attempting to steal second base – seems pretty routine, right? Well… 4(?) pitches earlier he took a foul ball to the forearm of his throwing hand… maybe not quite so routine, after all…

At some point in the season, the coach decided to have another player hit for Ian. The coach, by the way, is Ian’s dad. I can’t imagine the conversation they had but if anybody every questions the Klahre’s dedication to Everett Warrior Baseball – think back on that move and how much easier it would have been (for both of them) to keep Ian in the lineup. Watching that father/son duo celebrate the Championship win was worth the price of admission. They deserved that celebration. Incidentally, Ian is a bit of a renaissance man – he’s a catcher, a quarterback, a drummer in the school bands and is a fixture in the school plays… the kid can do it all.

Calvin Iseminger (LHP, 1B, bats 4, senior) my kid… I’m so much more relaxed when he’s playing first – although that makes him part of most plays, so the tension free periods are short-lived. As a pitcher this kid hasn’t lost a game in 2 seasons… got some no-decisions, but didn’t have a loss (don’t forget the guys around him do some work for that…). His pick-off move is the stuff of legend. Last season he picked off 12 runners (“gotta walk ’em to pick ’em off, mom”), this year I think he got 4; lots of opposing coaches telling their runners ‘don’t mess around over there at first with him on the mound’. In the Championship game he pitched 8 innings (which is remarkable when you consider the fact he had only 1 complete 7-inning game during his entire high school career), gave up one hit and calmly got himself outta jams on 2 separate occasions (for the record – my pacing is directly proportional to the level of jam). After the game, a coach laid his arm across my shoulders and said, “Nothin’ like saving the best game of your career for the State Championship your senior year.” The kid did good.

He’s not all knuckle balls and pick offs, though… He bats cleanup and was top 2 in every batting category this season – at least he was before the playoffs started, we stopped looking at stats around the time of the D5 game – we’re a superstitious lot.

The best part of his game though, is his love of his teammates and coaches. You wanna complain about another player? Don’t do it with this kid around. You wanna question a move by a coach? Don’t let Cal hear you. He will not tolerate any disparaging comments about anybody connected to his game – and because of that, he’s taught me to be a better fan, a better athlete-parent, a better person. Throughout the season he would tell me, “We’re just hanging out, having a ton of fun playing ball, even the guys who don’t get to play are just having fun.” It was the perfect way to end his high school athletic career and this momma is thankful for each person in that dugout.

I’ve been asked by a number of people if Cal was nervous the morning of the Championship game as he was the starting pitcher. I offer this little story of his morning… you decide: Dan and I were walking Cal to the door, wishing him luck, telling him we’d see him in State College when he reached for the knob and couldn’t budge the door. There was a bit of frantic pulling on the door, to no avail. I smiled and asked, “You want me to text Travis and tell him you can’t make it because the door is locked?” Once we rectified that situation, the boy was on his way… 10 minutes later my cell chirped, it was Calvin, “Hey mom, can you meet me out back with my jersey?” He must’ve gotten it all out of his system because my boy went on to throw a gem of a game.

Kason Hinish (2B, bats 2, sophomore) Kason Hinish is that player who seems pretty good until you look at his stats and realize – this kid is awesome. I was reading the breakdown of games published in the Bedford Gazette and almost every clip mentioned Kason scoring. He’s perfect in the 2 slot with his consistent bat and ability to reach home. For me though, he will forever be the diving stop in the game against Williamsport. We were already down and couldn’t afford to allow baserunners. A kid sent one right up the middle. I started to lower my head in defeat but something made me stop and watch… out of nowhere Kason dove behind second base, came up firing from his knees, and got the out. It was major league type stuff.

Here’s a fun fact: I can confidently say that I believe Kason Hinish to be the only player in all of baseball who uses both hands when catching a fly ball – he is the player every coach dreams of. As if winning a baseball championship isn’t enough – Kason and his fishing partner earned a spot in the Bassmaster National High School Championship after placing 2nd in a statewide tournament earlier this spring. Kason is headed to South Carolina in August! He’s a talented kid!!

As an aside, Kason has 2 more seasons with Everett baseball – if you fans could proactively educate yourselves about rally caps – what they are, when to wear them, how to wear them, etc. Kason’s mom would really appreciate it… she’s one of the friendliest, most laid-back humans I’ve ever met – right up until the ump yells, “Play Ball!”.

Dalton Shaw (3B, P, bats 6, senior) I can say without hesitation that I will never in my lifetime witness another high school kid play the hot corner like Dalton Shaw. The kid is mesmerizing on third base. Collectively, we all hold our breath when a ball is hit up the line – and I’m not sure why – because, without fail, Dalton makes the stretch, sometimes well into foul territory, backhands the ball, plants, and fires across the field to get the out. I’ve seen him barehand a surprise bunt and make the throw to first with literally no part of his body touching the ground. He has no fear. I would run screaming, from some of the balls scorched his way, Dalton gobbles them up with little to no effort. He is far and away the best third baseman I’ve ever seen play and it has been a true honor to have a front-row seat for the entirety of his baseball days.

On the offensive side, Dalton had the winning hit for the Warriors in the playoff game against Portage. There was controversy and we needed the next batter’s RBI to get the official win but trust me on this – Dalton Shaw had the winning, walk-off RBI in the first game of the State Championship run. He is another young man who is tightly woven into my memories of Cal playing ball. Years and years of them hanging out, being little boys, fishing and goofing off. Dalton and his family have given Cal some of his most favorite childhood memories and I’m eternally grateful for how they’ve loved my son.

Karson Reffner (SS, 1B, 3B, C, P, bats 3, senior) basically Karson plays wherever he’s needed and he throws the ball harder than any person I know. I once saw him hit a batter in the helmet; the ball was thrown with such force that it careened off the helmet and flew over a 30+ft backstop {no players were injured in the making of that memory}. When he’s playing the field – you better keep your eye on him. Twelve or so years of my life have been spent ducking from his errant throws during warmups – inexplicably… when the ball is in play… the kid throws a perfect strike to the first baseman’s glove.

There is nothing more beautiful than Karson Reffner’s swing. It is true baseball artistry. He absolutely crushed a walk-off grand slam to send us to the final four game. Just prior to that blast he came in and threw 6 pitches to win the game – he does well on the mound, but he’ll tell you he only pitches because he has to. Can you imagine the pressure he was under? ‘Here kid, you haven’t pitched since May 18th, we’re in the playoffs, down by a run and we need you to take down their best hitter.’ And as usual… Kars was money.

This kid is Cal’s longest-tenured friend. He has the most infectious laugh and he sometimes forgets who he’s chatting with but of all Cal’s friends… knowing their high school years have come to an end… I now fully understand how Dorothy felt when she said goodbye to the Scarecrow…

Jadin Zinn (LF, bats 9, senior) Jaybird was unofficially voted by the parents as ‘the kid the other team least wants to hit with a pitch’. He’s a little… shall we say… full of life. That’s not to say he’s a bad kid – not at all; as a matter of fact, my most endearing memory of Jadin is not related to sports at all. I was chatting with him about his trip with the Votech to rebuild a home destroyed by a tornado in the Midwest, he said it was a cool experience and that he “felt good to be able to help somebody that had gone through that.” If only Jadin knew how often I’ve teared up thinking back on that conversation.

Jadin made some great catches during the season but his most extraordinary play came in the Williamsburg game when he made a perfect throw to get a runner at home. He’s a great left fielder but nobody expected that throw! He batted in the 9 spot – but he’s not a 9-hitter in little league terms, he’s a 9-hitter in major league terms. He’s there to keep the inning alive for the top of the order and he exceled at it. I’ve seen him launch a ball 450 ft, but the best hit of his life was a grounder between short and 3rd – he won the Championsip with that hit.

Jadin and Cal shared the Freshman Player of the Year award in their first year of high school football. I think his mom and I have a picture of the 2 of them after every football game over the last four years. Jaybird is a constant in Cal’s sports life and I’m not sure I’ll ever like a teammate of Cal’s more than I like Jadin.

Sid Grove (CF, P, 1B, bats 5, junior) Sid is probably the most complete baseball player on the team. He can do it all. He fields, he hits, he pitches, and man can that kid run. If a ball is hit anywhere between left and right field – Sid is gonna catch it. The plays Sid made would be highlight reel plays for any other player, but he made everything look so dang easy that instead of going wild, we’d just shrug and say, “Sid’s got it.” Cal threw a no-hitter this season and that stat falls squarely on Sid’s glove – he made a couple of plays that I won’t even attempt to describe because they’ll lose something in the telling. But know this… if he can’t get to a ball with his legs – he’ll lay out for it – and he’ll catch it. He runs like a deer – fast, graceful and with seemingly no effort.

I believe he ended the season with the highest batting average. If he was at the plate – be ready to cheer. And cheer we did when he had the game-winning hit against Delone Catholic, sending us to the Championship game. The only thing more impressive than his skill is his enthusiasm. I have such a vivid memory of him diving into third for a triple then jumping up with a growl that got his dugout AMPED UP.

I’m always caught off guard when I see Sid without his hat, he plays with such maturity that I forget he’s a kid… then he takes off his hat and I see the grin… and I remember – he’s only a junior in high school. The team is his next year… it’s in good hands.

Karl Foor (RF, bats 7, senior) before you read anything else about Karl – you need to know that this kid was in 2 car accidents between his 9th and 11th grade years. Both times he broke his pelvis. To recover from the second break he couldn’t put any weight on his legs for 6 months. And in his senior year – he was the starting right fielder for a State Champion team. I am awed by this kid. He was on base – a lot – and you could always hear his dad yelling “Stay Up!” because the thought of Karl needlessly sliding was gut wrenching for him… for all of us.

My biggest beef with Karl is the fact he cut his God-awful mullet in the middle of playoffs. Don’t get me wrong – it needed to be done… just not in the middle of playoffs. It all worked out in the end, and while Karl is always handsome, he’s especially handsome with that hair gone. I just wish he hadn’t poked at my superstitions to do it.

Karl did a great job in the field; every coach dreams of a kid who calls the ball when it’s in the air… “MeMeMe” was all I needed to hear to know it was an out. And while I credit Dalton with the walk-off hit in the Portage game – the officials had a different story in mind. They gave in to a questionable appeal claiming Cal missed 3rd base thereby nullifying his run and bringing Karl to the plate… the kid had ice in his veins. The controversy that preceded his at bat, the well over 15-minute discussion at midfield, the emotions of every fan and player, including his own… none of it affected Karl – he put the ball in play and won the game for Everett. Nothing stops this kid… he is an absolute miracle and I’ve been blessed to watch him shine for 12 years.

Macyn Klotz (DH, bats 8, junior) Macyn was the designated hitter for most of the season. He was clutch. It’s no easy task – coming out of the dugout once every 9 batters – but Macyn was a pro. When Karson launched his game-winning grand slam we needed only one run because of Trenten’s game-tying sac fly – Macyn scored that run. He was the kid who always seemed to be on base when we needed baserunners… I’ve said it a thousand times this season – the bottom of our batting order would’ve been the top of most other’s. In the Williamsport game we entered the bottom of the 7th inning, down a run, with the bottom half of our batting order due up. A few parents told me to speak my season-long mantra… I looked each of them square in the eye, felt it deep in my heart and said, “the bottom part of our order has been saving our bacon all season long.” Macyn was the quintessential bacon-saver.

Jacob Price (Pinch Runner, senior) where do I start with Jacob? How about here: in the last 3 games of the championship run he pinch ran for different players and scored to either tie or win the game. In the Elite Eight game he scored on Trenten’s sac fly to tie the game. In the final four game he scored on Sid’s hit to win the game. In the Championsip game he jumped on the plate for the winning run, scoring on Jadin’s hit.

Let me tell you about pinch runners… sure the kid has to be fast (Jacob is frequently called Wheels) but more importantly he has to have an outstanding baseball IQ. The last thing he wants to do is hurt his team. And finally, he has to be coachable. He gets one, maybe two, chances per game to do something… most kids would take chances just to be the hero. Not Jacob. He listened to his coach and he did what he was supposed to do… in 3 consecutive, big time games.

Lest you think a team’s success relies only on starters, I present to you the 5 players who worked their tail ends off to make this team great. They are the players who showed up everyday to make everybody better. They ran out game-time situations on the base path, they played the field during batting practice and they earned their medals.

Kasey Weaver (OF, junior) Kasey was the definition of ‘next man up’. He was the guy who came in when we were down a player. He did his job well both in the field and at the plate. I’m not sure I’m able to separate Cal’s baseball life from Kasey’s family… The Weavers have been an integral part of Cal’s baseball life since day one and they deserve a great deal of the credit for Cal’s love of the game. Their friendship is a gift that I cherish.

Drake Fetters (Utility, sophomore) Drake was injured during a sport… I should probably know more but the kid plays 3 sports and has no fear so, in my defense, it’s hard to keep track. The origin of his surgery aside – this kid is dedicated to every team he suits up for. Drake had PT almost every day after school and yet, the kid never missed a practice. I’m excited to follow him the next 2 years, his grit will make him a player to watch.

George Kuhne (3B, sophomore) and Reese Sherwood (CF, sophomore) I feel bad grouping these two together but when I talked to Cal about them – he grouped them when he referred to them as the smartest people he’s ever known… after I nursed my wounded ego… I can see that there might be some truth to his assessment. These boys’ future is so bright and their skills on the baseball field will only add to their shine. They are ball players who also happen to be geniuses… they will be starters next year and they will do the team proud.

Jesse Moore (OF, sophomore) Jesse is probably the most successful Everett athlete on the team. He’s no stranger to big games as the Everett boys’ soccer team has participated in a number of playoff games with Jesse on the roster, I don’t think this is all coincidence… Jesse will be an important cog in the future success of this baseball team.

And that is the full 16-man roster. And it’s only part of the story… ’cause every team has coaches. And boy – do we have coaches. The amount of baseball knowledge these 4 men possess is astronomical; they are fascinating to watch in action.

Corey Reffner (asst coach, dad) these days Corey is most widely known as Karson’s dad but there was a time when he was THE southpaw of the area. Corey brings a lot to the team. Most notably, he brings experience; he’s played ball at a pretty high level. But he also brings a sense of calm and comfort to the boys – he’s been sharing a dugout with these young men since t-ball (Cal does a pretty good impression of Corey… ask him sometime). When Cal decided to play baseball in college instead of football, Corey was the person I talked to about it. Sure, he’s a lefty AND he has college baseball experience but more importantly, he’s been a constant in Cal’s baseball life and personal life for as far back as I can remember. I knew he was the person we needed.

Les Lepako (asst coach, Rubber Arm) Coach Les is the perennial batting practice pitcher. He exceeds the 100- pitch limit every single day and the boys adore this man. He’s quiet, always smiling and I believe he’s the oldest… ehem… most senior member of the team – and he keeps them all young.

Mike Kline (asst coach, 1B coach) I think my favorite memory of Coach Kline is watching him lean toward our dugout while coaching first, to explain to our boys how a ball should’ve been played by the other team. He never misses an opportunity to teach; apparently, he also never misses an opportunity to tell a good story. We were at an awards ceremony with Mr. Kline and the 4 I’s left, leaving Cal behind. Cal got home 45 minutes later because “…you don’t walk away when Coach Kline is telling stories.” Cal calls him ‘the most quotable guy he knows’. Of all the coaches, Coach Kline seems the most “old-school”. He carries himself with a no-nonsense air and you fall into the trap of thinking he’s a drill sergeant in cleats… until you see his subtle grin when the boys do something goofy or you see him lay his arm across a player’s shoulder, telling him to have a short memory – an error doesn’t make him a bad player – then he coaches the kid for the next time. He’s the perfect match to our head coach.

Travis Klahre (head coach, manager) In baseball, the head coach is called a manager, but I think in talking about Travis, I need to use both titles. Travis, as a head coach, is exactly who this team needed. He trusted the talent he had. He didn’t over-coach. He was the yin to Mike’s yang, but just as Mike isn’t as tough as he seems, Travis can be tougher than ya think. The boys wanted to win for both of them and that speaks volumes about them as coaches and as people.

Travis was also a manager of the game and he made 3 decisions this season that let me know he was the right guy for the job. The first decision was having a DH for Ian. We’ll never know if that decision was perfect because we’ll never know how Ian might’ve finished out the season at the plate, but we DO know that Macyn was clutch. It had to be an incredibly difficult decision for a father… but as a manager, he did what he felt was in the best interest of the TEAM. It has always been about the team for Travis…

The second decision was pulling Trenten at the end of the semi-final game. Trenten was throwing a magnificent game. He had plenty of pitches left to finish… but not enough to be available 3 days later in the Championship game. So Travis put Cal on the mound – and Cal promptly gave up a double to the first batter he faced. My lord the sweating Travis had to’ve been doing… But, in my opinion, that one decision won us the Championship game. I think Cal pitched better on Thursday because he knew Trenten was available and I think Sid and Karson played better because they knew they wouldn’t have to come in. Cal pitched more innings than he has ever pitched in his life, he’s never been more efficient, but with extra innings – we needed the righty to come in and finish it up. Pulling Trenten 3 days earlier was sheer baseball genius. Travis thinks the decision was – at the time – unwelcome. He’s wrong… everybody knew why he did it, and everybody applauded him.

The third decision is less about making ball players and more about developing human beings. As I’ve mentioned, there was no standout, no MVP on this team and we had 6 starting seniors; because of that, the team had no captain. When the umps would call for coaches and captains, Travis took the starting pitcher with him. In the rotation, Cal was the starter for the Championship game. But… we have another ace pitcher who got us there, too… I heard the umps make the call and I silently begged Travis to take both Cal and Trenten… it was the right thing to do, it was the ONLY thing to do…. I looked down and saw Trenten lay down his glove and head toward home plate and tears spilled down my face. Travis most definitely understood the assignment… all season long.

A lot has been made of this team – their list of engagements is staggering – but it is rightfully deserved. They made history and for a few weeks they electrified this little town and the surrounding areas; they brought a sense of community back when it was desperately needed. They did it by having fun and by playing as a team. Yes, you could say our team was stacked with talent but it was the positive vibe of this team that got them the trophy. A vibe that started at the top and trickled down to the dugout and out to the bleachers. This team is all that is right in the world… and how lucky am I that I had a front row seat?

On May 24^th my husband and I will celebrate 25 years of marriage; I’m very proud of that and also sort of awed by it because to be totally honest, have I always liked this guy? No. 

But have I always loved him? 

Also, no.

Listen, marriage is hard. I mean for garsh sakes I have 5 different shampoos in my shower because I like to change it up every day. And here I am… 25 years later, wearing the same damn ring on the same damn finger every.single.day. Twenty-five years of watching him fall asleep in a recliner instead of just going to bed. Twenty-five years of watching him tap that friggin saltshaker with his forefinger (it’s a saltSHAKER not a salt tapper). Twenty-five years of listening to him lament that he’d be much taller if it weren’t for ‘that missing vertebrae…’  

I’m very suspicious of people who claim they never fight with their significant other. I have questions… do you not live together? have you never remodeled? are you never in the same moving vehicle at the same time? Dear lord people, have you never been visited by your in-laws?

Now, I’ll concede that I may be on the opposite end of the spectrum when it comes to arguing with my spouse, and while I can’t say I go lookin’ for a fight I’m also not sure it’s necessary for me to say things like, “I’ve spent the last 27 years of my life hating the stupid, noncommittal way you cough.” I can see now that my comment might have been a tad confrontational (let me just say, though… a hearty, deep cough might do wonders for his lungs).

For his part – Dan is no fighter. He’d be perfectly content to never have a cross word between us, although, to that end you’d think he’d stop answering the phone, “Yaaaallow….” But, honest to Pete, my husband is about the most laid-back, easy-going human being you’ll ever meet – no matter how hard I’ve tried to break him. So, to celebrate him tolerating me for 25 years, I am offering this love letter in list form: 

1. I love you because Alexandra… Calvin… Abigail. I know true love with you, I know unconditional love because of you. They are without question, the very best part of me (except when they’re acting like jerks… that’s all you).
2. I love you because you took on EVERYTHING so that I could devote myself to caring for my mom in her last months.
3. I love you because when I say, “Order whatever toppings you want” you order pepperoni, sausage, and banana pepper rings.
4. I love you because of the way you look at Lucy when you pet her; conversely, I’m a little triggered by the way she looks back at you.
5. I love you because you get my water bottles ready for me every morning, although… when we’re arguing I hate that I have to thank you for it
6. I love you because you take me to see the Packers… did I mention they play in London this fall?
7. I love you because you think I’m the most beautiful woman in every room (to be fair, though… what’re ya gonna say? “My wife? Yeah… she’s the one with the great personality hovering over the dessert table.”)
8. I love you because of the musical influence you’ve had on our kids – both performing and listening – left up to me they’d botch the kazoo and know only The Beatles, a few 90’s grunge songs and Pink!
9. I love you because you are so dedicated to your job, the church and numerous community organizations… oh wait… I’m actually bothered by the time you give to those things, but I do love that your time away from me does not involve brothels, bars, and betting.
10. I love you because you laugh…a lot.
11. I love you because you do so much for and with my dad, although I do worry that, in the case of divorce, he’d keep you and get rid of me.
12. I love you because you always go along with my cockamamie ideas… now if you’d just realize they are good ideas from the beginning – we could save a lot of time.
13. I love you because you have closed our closet door every night since I read that closing doors in the bedroom is feng shui (it’s even more impressive because I feel like you’re still waiting for me to tell you what the hell ‘feng shui’ means…).
14. I love you because you didn’t leave me during pharmacy school… my competitive nature would’ve driven away a lesser man.
15. I love you because I dream up our remodels and you bring them to fruition (generally many, many, many months after my estimated finish date…).
16. I love you because you genuinely like all my friends; they like you, too (except when I don’t like you… they are my friends, after all).
17. I love you because you can literally do just about anything (except make a decision about dinner, apparently that’s above your pay grade).
18. I love you because every year you look at the Christmas tree I’ve chosen, shake your head in disbelief then set about cutting it down all the while muttering about it “not even fitting in our house”. Then you spend the next 4 or 5 hours making it fit in our house.
19. I love you because more often than not you are the one who cleans out the refrigerator – ‘course you’re the one who makes us save 7 peas but still… it’s nice that you take care of it.
20. I love you because you wear your life vest from launch to land when we kayak.
21. I love you because you thank me for being ‘the air traffic controller’ of our family, uhm… in case you hadn’t noticed, I have control issues – no need to thank me, just get the hell outta my way.
22. I love you because you understand the importance of proper towel folding and storage (in half, in half, again, then trifold, placed with the nice edges facing out).
23. I love you because you are an amazing father, and our children adore you.
24. I love you because you went to be with your dad in his last moments; and I know with everything in me, he knew you were there…
25. I love you because the last 25 years have been so much more than I ever dreamed and wildly more than I deserve and all of it… is because of you.

People tell me I’m lucky to have a husband who is so good to me. To that I say: I wouldn’t have settled for anything less. What I am lucky to have is such a good man who understands me, accepts me, supports me, and also happens to be easy on the eyes… 

A quarter of a century later and you are still the person I most want to hang out with and the absolute love of my life; now if you would kindly refrain from wearing 3 different shades of blue at the same time, we could live on in perfection…

They say a girl always marries a guy just like her dad, but…

My dad’s work attire consisted of boots, jeans, t-shirt and a hat, no cologne (unless you count the diesel fuel smell that foiled my mother for decades). My husband is a daily-necktie kinda guy – and while he also doesn’t wear cologne – he does gel his hair.

My dad is football and westerns, my husband is hockey and sci-fi. My dad didn’t know how to work the coffee pot until my mom passed, my husband makes and brings me two cups of coffee every morning. My dad once built a heckuva messy-lookin’ chicken run in an afternoon, with mostly scraps laying around his property, my husband spent 4 months building a 3-shelf stand to house dirty boots – inside a closet – and actually never finished because I bought a premade unit out of frustration.

When I was 5-years old, my father took me fishing. We stood along the bank of the pond, he looked me square in the eye and said, “I will bait your hook ONCE, I will take off your FIRST fish, after that you are on your own, I’m here to fish, too.” When my family of five hits the banks of the river my husband drops one, maybe two, hooks – he spends the rest of the time addressing our casting woes.

While I enjoy being the life of the party just like my dad, my oldest daughter has been known to ask, “Why am I such a dud?” to which her dad stakes claim by raising his hand and saying “hello….?” (to be fair – neither is actually a dud, but they are a little more… reserved, shall we say? than the rest of us).

My dad, on the rare occasion he imbibes, is a rum and coke guy, my husband is a nightly, craft beer guy. My dad last stepped foot in a church on his wedding day (1967), my husband attends every Sunday, sits on a couple of church committees and performs with the church band. My dad’s favorite pastime involves poker chips, my husband tinkers with micro-chips. 

When I was 6? Maybe 7-years old my dad invited me to fish on the Chesapeake Bay with him. He told me he’d wake me once and if I wasn’t ready to go at 4am sharp, he’d leave me behind. When he went to my room the next morning, my bed was empty. He found me fully dressed, sleeping in front of our back door. I was standing in the 7-11 buying my Yoo-hoo and donuts at 4:02. The first time my husband invited our kids to a Hagerstown Municipal Band concert they whined, until I informed them, “you are going.” The four of us sat in the car for 11 minutes waiting for him.

My dad dug up and moved a Japanese Maple tree, sat it on top of the ground, put a little dirt around it… it has thrived for 12 years, my husband diligently followed the care instructions for an 80-year-old bonsai tree for 2 months, until it died. Every evening, my father enjoyed a home-cooked meal prepared by my mom, I didn’t even know we had a kitchen until Dan mentioned remodeling it to make his dinner prep easier. My dad thinks a good turkey call is music to his ears, my husband picks up any of the myriad instruments we own to bring music to his ears.

At the age of 69 my father had open-heart surgery and refused rehab because after 2 weeks he was already walking further on his own than the physical therapist recommended, the guy I married says, “I’m not sure what’s going on with the cold you gave me, but it picked up steam on its way over.” (full disclosure: my father is a weak, weak shell of a man when he has a cold and my husband would muscle through a surgery just to irritate me).

My father has – on more than one occasion – won the 50/50 at Bedford Speedway, my husband responds to poker invites with, “How ‘bout I just hand you a 50 and save myself the embarrassment?” (to his credit he says he used up all his luck when he found me… I say he’s just ALWAYS been unlucky).

And yet… are they really all that different? I mean… they vacation together – without me (4-wheeler junkies, the both of them), they both have excellent mechanical skills yet have leaned shoulder-to-shoulder on a car while I was under it changing the oil, they both rank The Blues Brothers as the funniest movie ever written and think Marty Robbins’ voice is butter. But their most striking similarity is the fact they are both the most incredible father I know.

My childhood was filled with Saturdays spent riding next to my dad on his backhoe and Sunday-morning fishing trips and soaking up every bit of sports knowledge he possessed. When he calls me Princess, I laugh at the (intended) mocking irony of it. I loved being with my dad (still do) and my fondest childhood memories involve time spent with him. Call it nurture, call it nature but I was blessed with his quick wit and wicked sense of humor (conversely, I got the broad shoulders and facial hair from my mother’s side).

He isn’t the type of dad who kissed me goodnight and told me loved me – as a matter of fact – we shook hands every night before I went to bed, but he is a “hey I put oil and a filter in your trunk, you won’t need it for a month or so, but I didn’t know when you were coming home next” kind of dad. My favorite movie is still The Dirty Dozen because I can so clearly remember curling up on the floor with him 39 years ago and watching until I fell asleep (incidentally… if you’ve ever seen it, you know that is NOT an easy movie to sleep through… what I wouldn’t give for that sleeping prowess today). My father will always be my hero…

And my husband does not disappoint as the sequel to his greatness. Our kids have been blessed with an equally remarkable dad. He is the most caring, selfless, accommodating man I’ve ever met. He’s never too tired to do whatever it is they ask of him, and if he is – he does it anyway. He holds them accountable then offers unwavering support. He earns their respect simply by respecting them. They adore their dad.

It’s pretty nifty watching all three of our kids have a different relationship with him and even more impressive is his ability to nurture each bond, simultaneously, with seamless effort. He has introduced our kids to classic movies, astronomy, ice skating and music – from Beethoven to The Beatles to the Beastie Boys. He provides a sense of calm in the midst of Storm Karen (as I tell my entire brood… unfortunately with the good passion, comes the bad passion). He has shown our son how to be a good husband and father and he has shown our daughters how they should be loved. 

If I’ve done anything right in this lifetime, it was in choosing the man to father my children – I had an awesome 1.0 version to guide me….

Our high school football season has been the embodiment of the term “shit show” from the outset. From not knowing if we’d even have a season (Covid… you ignorant slut) to being down to our 3rd-string quarterback (who is doing a pretty nifty job under center) to Cal starting the season with a knee injury (who said baseball is safer?) to then spraining his shoulder in the 2nd game (ok maybe football is more dangerous).

Anyway – shit show is a mild understatement. Cluster-fuck is closer but still not adequate. And yet… there was a fight to the death over the 2 tickets we had for 3 people. Ok, it wasn’t to the death, but only because Dan realized he’d spend the entire first half driving to the game and subsequently bowed out (when he lamented that the most rational solution was for him to stay home, I subtly slid the shiv I’d been carving, back under my pillow).

True to the tone of the year 2020, the game was over 90 minutes away and the weather was creating treacherous conditions – in October. Now… those of you who know me well, know how much I love watching my boy do anything in a sports arena – I mean I love watching ALL of my kids do ANYTHING but… my boy. on a field. is going to propel me to Chunky Soup or Subway commercials – I just KNOW it.

But I gotta admit – when he texted to tell me the home team had 2+ inches of snow and it was still coming down – I started to question exactly HOW MUCH I love to watch him (especially considering we could live stream the game right to our tv – complete with recliners, beer and forced-air heat).

And then… this….

I literally would’ve snow-shoed the entire 76 miles after that exchange.

The good news is: there was actually no snow

The bad news is: we got creamed

My favorite news is: my boy did KINDA go all Shady McCoy out there

(And at this point I’m hoping against hope that “Shady McCoy” is not some kind of derogatory term that I should not only NOT be repeating but should be beating my kid’s ass for using)

Anyway, back to the premise of this wildly tangential story…

I had texted Pop earlier in the day to tell him he was the lucky fan who won the other ticket and told him to be at our house for a 5pm departure. When he got here he said, “I can drive.”

I countered (a little too firmly), “I’ll drive.” He shrugged and walked out to my car; I was grabbing my gear, thinking… ‘it’s happened, I’ve taken over the role of parent in our relationship.’

When I got to the car Pop looked at the clothes I was tossing into the back and asked, “What’s all that?”

I raised my eyebrows and got my best condescension on, “uhhhh… it’s cold up there but I don’t want to sweat during the drive…”

Pop waved me off, “that shit ain’t gonna help – I brought you a pair of hunting coveralls and a coat, there’s gloves in the pockets.”

I stubbornly laid my stuff on top of his camo offerings – ’cause I clearly know more than him, see:

For reference you need to know – masks were not required. Look at my eyes… I’m literally frozen into a state of disbelief.

After sitting in bitter cold for 3 hours, watching a beat-down, we decided to stop for some coffee to warm us up on the ride home.

“I need to grab my wallet – unless you have cash.”

“Karen Lynn, I ALWAYS have cash.”

When we got in line he looked at my choices, “Hot chocolate and twizzlers? How friggin old are you, again?”

I scrunched my face up and snapped, “I like sugar….”

As we got to the counter something caught my eye, “oooh gobstoppers!” and I laid them on the counter.

“What are you – 7?”

I grabbed my loot and stomped out to the car.

I was crashing from my sugar high as we pulled into my driveway. Pop got outta the car and said, “I love how you’ve decorated your new patio – the empty beer bottles are a classy touch.”

Without missing a beat I said, “They’re Josh’s.”

Now here’s the thing – our friend Josh had actually contributed to the empties but A) I’m 50, B) my father is well aware that I drink beer and C) I paid for the new patio. I’m not sure what compelled me to blame somebody else.

The next day I sat and thought back to my evening with Pop. The evening that started with me feeling a tinge of sadness at the thought we were reversing rolls. And then I got a pretty good giggle goin’ when it occurred to me that the man had brought me warm clothes without me asking, paid for my hot chocolate and candy and then I lied to him about beer bottles.

Meh… I prolly shoulda let his old ass drive…

As Dan handed me a second cup of coffee Sunday morning, his phone buzzed. He grimaced and, already knowing the answer, asked “an anniversary post on Facebook?”

I nodded while reaching for the he-gets-my-coffee-every-day-not-just-on-our-anniversary cup and sipped while he read my post which ended with: #only37togo.

See… I have commitment issues and told him early on that I could only promise 60 years, at which time we could reassess and make decisions about our future. Meanwhile, Cal gets visibly upset when I discuss my intention of leaving his father and going on the prowl at 87. He’s gonna slam me into an all-women nursing home, I just know it.

Anyway, Dan finished reading the post, threw his arm up on my shoulder then looked at me and, no shit, on. our.anniversary. said, “37 to go. We’ve already spent 23 years together. Thirty-seven more seems like so long.”

“Yeah? Ya think so?” I squinted and sorta cocked my head to the side, “Is this foreplay… cause I gotta say… it’s not really working for me.”

He blathered on about how he’s looking forward to having so much more time to love me.

Uhhhhhhh….huh.

Like I’m all tingly thinking about him tapping the salt shaker with his index finger for the next 2 score, give or take. What kind of person doesn’t just shake that sonuvabitch? It is, after all, a salt shaker. Nope… he just holds on to it with the other 3 fingers and thumb and bounces his forefinger up and down. AND! he knows it irritates me so he looks at me side-eyed while he’s doing it. Yeah, 37 years does seem like an awfully long time, asshat.

Despite the rough start, the day progressed in the usual way: gifts, cards, filling a dumpster… ok, the dumpster part is not the norm (and, now, looking back on it, I’m hoping it’s not some kind of weird, unintentional symbolism…).

The dumpster rental was actually a gift for his mom from Dan and his sister, Heidi. Their father, a wonderful man known for a quirkiness that was born out of genius, was a bit of a hoarder. The dumpster, along with our time helping to clear out 75 years of that-might-come-in-handy-some-day, was our Mother’s Day gift to her. The real kicker is: I’ve only stayed married to the man for this long to spite that woman and here I was spending my anniversary emptying her basement.

I kid… I’ve stayed married this long because I’m too lazy to get my own coffee in the morning.

And I’m certainly not trying to spite this lovely woman, who cried throughout our ceremony, underneath her black veil.

Can you tell she doesn’t read my blog?

No worries… she would chuckle if she did.

Our clean-out day/anniversary was actually a fairly nice day. Our emotions were all over the place, missing his dad, wondering how in the hell anybody could justify saving the things he saved, swimming in memories, drowning in questions we’ll never get answers to and floating in the calm that only love and a shared history can offer.

I did walk away with a little glimmer of hope regarding Dan’s (obviously inherited) hoarding tendencies, which are most visible in our basement (HIS basement… in that I refuse to go down there). His dad kept EVERYTHING but, he had it – to some degree – organized. Dan… not so much. But, after 5 days of dealing with his dad’s organized chaos, Dan has made a pact with himself to address his flotsam and jetsam lifestyle.

I’m not gonna lie: there’s a little part of me that longs for it all to stay, otherwise, I won’t be able to use ‘flotsam and jetsam’ nearly as much as I do. ‘Tidy basement space’ just doesn’t really light up my synapses the same way.

The most exciting part of our day, though, was when my husband and I retired to our bedroom.

Don’t get all nervous… my X-rating is strictly due to my propensity for using foul language. I never kiss and tell.

Bedtime was exciting because I gifted my husband a Purple mattress and pillows for our 23rd anniversary.

Incidentally, nothing says ‘I’d marry you all over again’ like an awkwardly-shaped, 145lb gift that he had to fight all the way from the shed to our bedroom and required us to spend the morning behind our bed, doing battle with dust bunnies that looked like they came straight out of Alice in Wonderland.

We were replacing a Sleep Number bed, which is an air-filled mattress that inflated to the desired level by way of a pump – that was hooked to the bed and the nearest outlet – thereby making it extremely difficult to move and clean behind that bastard.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Otherwise I’d have to come up with another reason for allowing 2 ponytail holders, 6 greeting cards, a sock (that didn’t belong to either of us), a stuffed alpaca, 3 magnesium tablets, a pen and the back of a remote to mar my carefully-cultivated dust garden. On the upside, should Dan actually get his basement squared away – it appears I’ll still have the opportunity to use the term ‘flotsam and jetsam’ here and there.

So, we slid into our 24th year of marriage on a new bed, resting our twitterpated heads on new pillows, under a new weighted blanket (the blanket itself was new, as was the experience of using a weighted blanket).

With all of this newness, I decided it was finally time to switch sides of the bed.

I’ve been suggesting this change for years. My side of the bed is nearest the door and it really bothers me that Dan is ok with me being in a position of danger like this… after all – as the man, shouldn’t he want to be killed first should we have an intruder?

Wait! I’ve changed my mind – nothing actually says ‘I would marry you all over again’ like me saying “I’d like for you to sleep on this side, so you die first.”

Now, for the record, you would think changing sides is merely a matter of moving a pillow or two, right?

Not so much.

We’ve attempted the switch no less than 7 times in the last few months. There are phone chargers, remotes (I get the channel-changing remote, he gets the tv-timer remote), slippers and years of habit all rolled into a specific side of the bed. I’ve never gotten further than standing next to his side of the bed, then backing out in a panic-stricken diatribe, “It’s too much. I can’t do it. Not tonight, I need more time….”

Last night, I pushed through. And you know what?

One night over there and I’m pretty fuckin’ certain that asshole is trying to get me killed. I mean, there is NO way an intruder would walk in and make a sharp turn to get to Dan’s new side. No, the intruder would take the easier route and go around the bed – to MY new side.. Now I understand why Dan was so willing to make the change…

He WANTED me over there.

He doesn’t know it yet, but… we’re switching back tonight.

And ya know what? He’ll just chuckle, grab his pillows and head back to his side. More than likely, he’ll stop in the middle to kiss me, with the smile still on his lips.

It’s just what he does. He listens to my whims, does everything in his power to make them happen then adores me all the more when they fail.

He’s the absolute love of my life and I hope the next 37 years last forever; I mean who the hell knows if the next guy is gonna make a decent cup of coffee or not.