Dennis's blog

Great post from Janice. I never knew these things about him.

I got back yesterday from Iowa. Kent came too and we both came and went from Omaha which is about 2 hrs from Panora. We spent the first 2 days with Jayne and Ron, then went to Ankeny for a couple of days. There we drove around the country side taking in the rich Iowa farmland, the barns, the grain elevators, the small towns, etc. The cornfields looked incredibly lush, like the corn was just bursting out of the ground. The beanfields were a deep forest green, a wonderful contrast to the golden color of the corn tassels.

We went to Panera's for lunch and Maid-Rite for dinner. We put up a fan in Grammie's computer room. We spent an entire day at Iowa State, taking pictures and touring the beautiful horiticultural gardens south of the campus. We had a terrific lunch at the tea room in the gardens.

Back at Lake Panorama, we played a new card game called "Poker," not at all similar to the usual game...lots of fun...not too hard to play, so lots of time to talk and laugh. I spent quite a bit of time on the jet ski...nearly rolled it once, giving a ride to one of Jayne's friends. It's amazing the kind of lakefront house you could buy for the kind of money our houses out here cost. The biggest problem is that it's miles to go to anywhere...nice for vacations, but a bit too isolated for us, even for a retirement. We're obviously planted in Calif forever, as we have sown our family seeds here and wouldn't move for a giant mansion anywhere.

I took care of Madison this afternoon so Shelley and Todd could get out with friends for a few hours. We had a great time here, she was laughing and goo-gooing almost the whole time. Eric had two friends here for the weekend and we played about 6 hrs of Puerto Rico. Each one of the four of us won one game. Peter and Kevin are officially hooked on the game!

No more news from here.

Love, Dad

Stanford Report, June 14, 2005 'You've got to find what you love,' Jobs says This is the text of the Commencement address by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, delivered on June 12, 2005.

I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.

The first story is about connecting the dots. I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.
And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.

It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on.

Let me give you one example:
Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.

None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, its likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.

Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something - your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

My second story is about love and loss. I was lucky - I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation - the Macintosh - a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.

I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down - that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me - I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.
I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.

During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the worlds first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I retuned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.

I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.

My third story is about death. When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything - all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.

This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope its the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.
Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

Stay Hungry.
Stay Foolish.
Thank you all very much.

Outstanding story! Wow, what a great position to be in. Janice has people begging her to come to work. I for one, however, am beginning to suspect that she really doesn't want to work! What a great position to be in...play hard to get...you can't fire me...I don't want to be here anyway. If you leave me alone, I'll probably work, but don't push it...

Jonny's meal sounded great to me...like something right out of a morgue. No thanks...give me straight old cooked food...nothing moving.

Speaking of moving, I dropped a potato chip on the nurses station on Sunday, bent over to pick it up, stepped on my cuff and fell over flat on my back. Instead of inquiring about my health, all the nurses just laughed and started pointing at me. The nurse whose chair leg I banged my head on, didn't even look up...hmmph

Our engagement will always be fondly remembered as involving scalded feet, the fog of early morning grogginess, and the city dump.

It all began after work Friday, at a barbeque with some of Mary's co-workers. I joined a game of 2-on-2 basketball on the white concrete driveway at about 4 pm, in the bright sunshine. The other guys playing were wearing flip-flops, so I felt it would be an unfair advantage to wear my tennis shoes (even though we told each other "Of course we'll play half-speed," what four guys will really compete at half speed when keeping score and playing in front of even one onlooker?). Notwithstanding the 104 degrees heat (admittedly, with the slight breeze, it felt more like 103), I decided it would be more fair to take off my tennies and play bare-foot. The pavement felt hot. Really hot. But I thought it would be fine. What an idiot. Seven minutes later, I called a time out and took a look at my feet. It turns out the pavement was more than just hot--it was rough. The bottoms of my feet were covered with nasty, silver dollar-sized blisters. I was barely able to limp to the car, and I had trouble walking around the next day. It felt like my feet were on fire with every step. At least the pain distracted me so much I didn't die of shame.

Now, originally, I planned to propose at the beach. I scheduled the day to correspond with her birthday so she wouldn't be suspicious when I made plans to go to dinner in San Francisco and stay there that night. We planned to go to beach on Saturday, spend the night in S.F., and return to Sacramento on Sunday for her birthday party (her parents and Matt were coming up and we'd all go kayaking with Shoddisonsie [Shelley-Todd-Madison-Cassie] and Dad). But on Friday night, we gradually became stressed with the logistics of getting to the beach, then to S.F. for dinner, not to mention the complication that the truck was full of brambles that needed to be taken to the dump sometime before the kayaking trip ... Considering the logistics and my idiojury (idiot-injury) of scalded feet, we opted to forgo the beach.

So I had to find a new plan. As Dad's fortune cookie said, "It's not the plan, it's the planning." None of us know what that means, but I think it belongs in this story at this point. I decided I would ask her in bed, first thing in the morning. That night we stayed up late (we tried to get Mary the new Harry Potter book at midnight when it went on sale, but we would have had to wait until 2:30am ... it was still cool to see all the really really happy kids with their brand new books).

I woke up at 6am, excited and ready to propose. But because we went to sleep so late, I figured I would generously let Mary sleep in until 7am. Okay, 7:30. So I lay there, unable to sleep, for a looooonggg time, trying to will Mary to wake up so I wouldn't feel bad depriving her of sleep. Then I looked at the clock. 6:03. This would be tough. It would get worse.

At 7:30, I sneaked down and got the ring in its box and came back to bed. I surrepticiously slipped the ring into the bed between us. My plan was for her to discover it and be surprised. I lay there, waiting for her to feel the ring box, heart thumping with anticipation, pulse racing, sweat on my brow. I lay there. For another hour! She sleapt like a rock, never rolling over! Of course I couldn't go back to sleep at that point. So I waited.

Finally at 8:30 am, she got up to go to the bathroom, and I put the ring box on her side of the bed where she would be unable to avoid it. Now, we had stayed up late, she was tired and sleepy, it was already hot in the room, the bathroom smelled bad because we hadn't taken out the trash in awhile ... So when she came back to bed, she just wanted to sleep. Without her glasses on, she bumped the ring box and thought it was a kleenex pack or something. She pushed it out of the way and said, "What is that." (translation: move that, I'm going to sleep). But I said, "Maybe you should put on your glasses and look at it." So she did. And then all was good and happy. She had had no idea at all. She was very surprised, and even more surprised to find out that most of the fam knew already and was eagerly waiting the news that I had finally done it. And she said yes. Yay!

After talking for awhile and calling a few family units, we drove down to the mall with brambles flying out of the truck and bought Harry Potter (it took 4 minutes, and there was no line at all ...). Then we went to the city dump, where two foul-mouthed ruffians helped us celebrate our engagement by unloading a truckful of branches in the dusty heat.

That night we had a great dinner in San Francisco and stayed at the Westin St. Francis with a view on Union Square. I had to limp around the city on account of my scalded feet. We ate Cheesecake Factory cheesecake in the room and watched What About Bob on tv. At the end of the day, I'm left with two thoughts: We're perfect for each other, and my feet hurt.

"You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave..."

That sums up my experience here at Upper Deck. Last week my supervisor, Meryl, came to me sheepishly and asked as nicely as she could.

"What are your plans for August?"

"Oh, I have some family and friends coming in to town, and a couple of other things going on..." I answered knowingly.

"Job" she screamed, "do you have a job yet?"

"No, I don't have anything lined up yet." I said nervously.

"I don't really know how to even ask this, but can you possilbly stay longer? I want to extend you until at least the end of September, or maybe longer depending on if things have settled down any" she responded.

So I agreed, what the heck, I can come and go as I need to, the Director of HR will be back on Monday (18th) Things will get easier, I thought.

Friday the other shoe fell, and fell hard.

The Director of HR called us on Friday (7/15) and told us she is not coming back. She can't bear to leave her new baby...

The upper management here is fantastic, no one has even called us, or the outgoing Director. When Meryl confronted our boss, his repsonse was something to the effect of "I've never met Mercedes, and you guys seem to be doing fine down there, so we'll just go on like this."

Needless to say Meryl has scheduled a meeting to discuss a go-forward plan.

But really, let's get to what is important...what does this mean for ME?

I'm not getting to leave here in 8 days as I had planned, I may not even get to leave at the end of September, I'm going to have to fill the 40 + jobs we have open by myself for the forseeable future, and if Meryl gets her way, I may have a job offer soon. The real question is should I choose to so no, will the Hotel California let me leave??????

Other things:
The reunion was a blast. See if you can get stories out of Scott. His friends from High School are funny! I just put something in the mail for Madison, that should get the ire up of a couple of people living in Sacramento for the summer. =) We are going to try to have Phil's with Jonny tomorrow night, but I will remember, "Phil's without Jonny is better than no Phil's at all"

Today was Mary's birthday, so her folks, Karen and Bill, drove up, as did Meric's friend Matt. We had a picnic at Ancil Hoffman park (hot!) and then 6 of us kayaked down the river - Eric, Mary, Me, Cassie, Bill and Matt. The water was cold, but just right for a hot day. No one tipped over. Cassie did great. Then we came back to the house for ice cream cake and then pizza for supper. Madison talked to us (squealed, babbled, goo'd) for quite awhile.

YAY!! Just routine Ostrem stuff...get engaged, go to the dump!

I stopped at McDonald's this morning on my way to work. Sometimes I stop there and get a diet coke, always the same size, always $1.71....I know, it's a lot, but I like the fizz and the ice that McDonald's offers. Today, because it was going to be hot, I thought I'd get a little bigger one with some extra ice. So I pull into the drive and speak into the box...

"I'd like a LARGE diet coke with extra ice, please."

The voice (female, pleasant) says, "That will be $1.71 at the first window."

Well, that's the same size I always get, I say to myself... so I say, "Excuse me, but what's the biggest size you have?"

The voice says, "42 ounces."

I think to myself... that's way too big. I ask, " Do you have any other size?"

She replies, "Supersize." The cars are beginning to back up behind me...some of the faces in the rearview mirror are looking scrunched up. I'm not getting the information I need, but I'm running out of time.

Somewhat exasperated, I ask, " What's the size just above large?"

"Extra-large"

"OK, I'll take one of those instead"

"That will be $1.07 at the first window."

I'm astonished...why do I pay $1.71 for a large and $1.07 for an extra large???

I drive up to the window. "How come the extra large is cheaper than the large?" I ask.

"The extra large is on sale."

"Oh," I say to no one in particular, as I drive away.

While I'm at the light I look at the extra large drink, trying to size up how many ounces it is. My guess is that it's more than 36 and less than 54, which would make it somewhere in the 42 ounce range. I figure there must be some communication slip-up somewhere. It can't be just that I'm easily confused...

Today we thought the microwave broke. Dennis fiddled with it and it was still not microwaving. I came across the room and stood near it. Dennis pushed some more buttons. Then the microwave worked. And we were happy.

I think I know why it broke momentarily though. It's because earlier, Dennis decided to microwave the sole leftover slice of Zachary's pizza, when many people believe you can't microwave Zachary's because you have to reheat it in the oven to replicate the consistency and heat of the original cheesy goodness that is Zachary's. The microwave was clearly expressing its disappointment in that decision when it decided to temporarily break later that evening. However, obviously it wasn't that disappointed because it was only broken for about 3 minutes.

Today I got a new patient who has a long history of drug abuse, 44 yo man, homeless, family has refused to take him in anymore...he travels all over from hospital to hospital whenever he runs out of money or drugs. My job was to discharge him after his 5th day in the hospital for no reason. I told him we would give him all the heart medicine he would need until he could get established with Medi-Cal. But after we were done, he asked if I would prescribe some Vidodin and I declined. After I left, he called administration and complained that he smelled alcohol on my breath and I was acting strangely! What a gas!

My buddy who is the head of Physician Human Resources had to track me down and, as a formality, check it out. He said this was really awkward, especially since he's been in his admin position for only a year, compared to my 18! We got a good laugh out of it and I said maybe I could return the favor and check him out someday! This was a first in my nearly 30 yrs of practice. My last alcohol was 9 days ago on the way to Wisconsin. I'm very good friends with all the nursing staff on one north and they said they will definitely confirm that I do act strangely most of the time...as one sweet potato said the the other, " I yam what I yam."

So, my fine Sunday began with a trip to the gym. I did a little cardio, and worked my upper body...ouch, today I am sore. My plan was to finish in time to shower and get to Phil's BBQ to meet up with Jonny when they opened at 11AM...can you say ribs?

I arrived a few minutes early, and sat down in the glorious sunshine. As always I had my book in my bag so I decided to read. (There was a strange man standing at the entrance to Phil's, Mary, Kind of like the staring plane woman...I felt a bit self conscious, I can't imagine a 4 hour flight like that.) 5 minutes turned into 10, 10 into 15...hmm, left a couple of messages on his cell phone..."Jonny? Where are you? I'm Hungry....I'm bored" Finally at 11;30, with no Jon in sight, and no phone call, I said fugetaboutit! and I ordered a half rack of ribs, corn and french fries....Mmmmmm exceptionally good ribs, tender corn, and crunchy fries dipped in the abundant left over bbq sauce. But no Jon.

He called about 6 pm to say he was very sorry for standing me up, and he would make it up to me some how...Any suggestions? Is there any way to make up for standing up your sister-in-law at PHILS!!!!!!!!????

Here's the Tribute we put together for Bapa's funeral.

Where do you start when composing a tribute to Bob Mueller? Everyone who has ever known him knows how remarkable he really was. Bob had so many fundamental characteristics to admire it’s impossible to pick out one that by itself defined him. His integrity was unimpeachable. His concepts of honesty and the value of truth were so basic, they serve as models that the rest of us can use to guide our lives.

And his humor…well, his humor was legendary. I wonder if there is anyone here who has not been the object of one of his tricks? The list is so long, I don’t know where to start. Now that I’ve heard most of the stories, I’m beginning to get the impression that Bob was often the instigator, but many times he was able to talk other people into actually performing the deeds, while he himself sat back seemingly totally innocent and laughing like crazy! While he was very serious about the pivotal nature of the National Academy of Arbitrators, I wonder how many Academy meetings just barely missed being turned into chaos through the sometimes-elaborate schemes that Bob and his friends would cook up? His good-natured humor surrounded him everywhere he went and essentially enveloped everyone around him, including the multitudes of poor waitresses that he would kid mercilessly…like the rest of us, they’d all keep coming back for more!

And then there was his love of British humor! I don’t know how many of his friends had to experience this, but I can’t tell you how many hours of “Keeping Up Appearances” and “Bless Me, Father” his family was subjected to! And when you’re first married and your father-in-law thinks something is hilarious, generally you try pretty hard to conjure up as many laughs as you can…actually, this business of British comedy videos has continued through at least 28 years! I don’t think he ever really got the message, even after a number of us would virtually lose consciousness during the multiple episodes we’d have to watch! He would just continue to laugh and exclaim to us how funny it all was!

We all have special memories of Bob’s humor, only some of which are fit for this gathering… Every few weeks Nana would cut Jason’s hair and every time she did, Bapa would come in and offer to do it. Jason always politely declined, but Bapa never gave up asking.

He had a thing with Joan, his next-door neighbor, about who could harvest the first tomato of the season. Joan, I don’t know if you ever found out, but one year when his tomato was behind, he bought one from the store and tied it on!

When Paige became part of the family, it seemed that every time she saw Bapa, he’d be wearing a white T-shirt. Finally one day she asked Nana if he needed some shirts or if that’s all he ever wore around home. The next Sunday, Bapa came to dinner wearing his usual white T-shirt, but this time he had a tie around his neck. Paige was terribly embarrassed, but Bapa thought it was hilarious!

My own early memory of Bapa’s humor was when he and Nana visited us in California for the first time. Of course, I was a nervous wreck; I think it’s natural to want your father-in-law to think his daughter had made a good decision. In order for this to happen, you want to appear to be as competent as possible. Alas, I don’t think I ever really overcame the incident I’m about to describe. At the time, we were driving a Honda station wagon that was several years old. I had never been very good at remembering to change the oil in our car, but I wanted to be sure it got done before Nana and Bapa arrived. I had a big note on the refrigerator reminding me to do it, but somehow, it didn’t happen. So what should Bob say about 5 minutes after coming in the house? “Hi, nice to see you, maybe we should change the oil in your car?” So – as I remember, I think it was even before they unpacked- we go out into the garage and Bapa proceeds to instruct me in how to change the oil…like I’d never picked up a wrench in my life... First you get a pan so the oil doesn’t go all over, then you get a wrench, no that’s too small…get some rags, ok, now get under the car…OK, Bapa…now you find the oil pan…that’s it…see the little nut coming out of it? OK, Bapa…now you turn the nut –counter-clockwise - until it’s loose enough to do it by hand, but be careful, if you turn it too far, the oil will come gushing out and you’ll get it all over everything…OK, Bapa, how am I doing???….Well, I grit my teeth and do what I’m told…when it comes to the point where you quickly remove the nut and get your hand out of the way of the gushing oil, I remove the plug and much to my chagrin nothing comes out! Slowly, a few drops of oil start dripping out,drip …drip…drip. For those of you who are not so mechanically inclined…this lack of gushing can mean only one thing…that you haven’t put enough oil in the car for a long, long time… Bapa, who is carefully watching every step, matter-of-factly says, “Looks like you were running a little low on oil!” I can only imagine what he was thinking. I don’t remember exactly what I was thinking at the time, but I do remember a sense of incompetence that lasted quite a while. Add to this the fact that the only two times I have ever run out of gas were when Bapa was with me. One of these times we had to hike about two miles home with Bapa limping all the way on a bad ankle. I suffered hugely all the way home, but Bapa didn’t complain for a minute…however, with great mirth and enjoyment he has retold these stories numerous times over the twenty-seven years since they happened!

Bob did, in fact, have a long memory if you made slip-ups. For 40 years, he continued to tease Jeanne about breaking a knife while cutting a dessert she had made! At the same time, usually over Sunday dinner, he’d reassure everyone that the reason he had married Nana was indeed because she made such good fruit salad.

Besides being mechanically inclined…only Jeanne knows how many times he repaired that old 3-wheeled lawnmower that he was so proud of and that Jason and Robbie loved to ride on with him … besides this mechanical talent, he was also a master wood craftsman. Robbie, in particular, loved to help him in his workshop. In addition to untold pieces of furniture for his kids and grandkids, Bob also built a large number of children’s picnic tables of his own design and delivered them to the children of all sorts of friends and acquaintances. He loved to build things for the grandkids. He put a huge net in his backyard so the boys could play kickball. He also built a basketball court in his driveway because John and Sue’s driveway was too slanted. He sat through endless basketball games and swim meets to watch his grandsons, all the time wearing the appropriate school-colored sweater or shirt.

Here are a few more memories his family has of Bapa: His kids never thought there was anything he couldn’t fix. Michael would save all of his broken toys for Bapa’s next trip to see him in Florida. As soon as Bapa would come in the door, Michael would bring out every broken car and vehicle and place it at Bapa’s feet. Jason announced at a very early age that “Bapa fixes stuff,” and “Nana is a good cooker.”

As far as food goes, Bapa knew what he liked to eat but mostly when Nana told him what he liked. One time he suggested we go out for Chinese food. Nana said, “But you don’t like Chinese food.” He simply said, “I don’t?” When going out to eat, Bapa’s generosity was essentially bottomless. Just try to pay for the dinner bill! My personal experience is that I was 58 years old before I was finally allowed to pay a bill, and I think that occurred because Bapa happened to be looking the other way! His generosity was expressed in another way to Libby, his and Jeanne’s great friend and neighbor. At the time Libby was working a lot and coming home late. She didn’t like getting out of the car to open the garage door, especially in the dark, but there was no automatic opener, so she just did what she had to. One night as she came in the driveway, her garage door opened by itself. Astonished, she looked around to see what was happening and found Bapa across the street operating the new garage door opener he had installed for her while she was gone. This was the kind of thing he loved to do. I just found out yesterday that a number of years ago Ed, one of John’s assistant coaches, had admired a chest Bob had made, innocently remarking “ boy I could use one of those.” Two weeks later Bob presented him with an exact copy. This kind of story was repeated many times over.

Bob had another love, his unashamed fondness for loud Irish music, which many of us had frequent opportunities to share- sometimes whether we wanted to or not. When Jason was a teenager, he accompanied Bob on an arbitration trip. The trip was long, but not boring, as Bob played Irish pub songs the whole way there and the whole way back. When asked how he liked the trip, Jason said fine, but he wasn’t really sure about the music.

Bob was diligent about his responsibilities to the parties he would arbitrate for. He drove whenever he could to save the companies money, and when he had to fly, he always flew coach and wouldn’t consider going in first class. One month ago, when he was so tired he could barely get out of bed, he dragged himself to Iowa for a case just so Eric and his friend Mary could go with him and witness a case in person. Never once during the trip did he complain about his pain or exhaustion, except to say, “I think this may be the last long distance case.” Irish music was again played. Bob was so dedicated to his clients that the last sentence he spoke before he passed on was a question to Dr. Hei, his oncologist. He said, “ How long is this going to take, I need to get back to work!”

Well, I’ve talked about his integrity, his honesty, his ability, and his humor, but the one characteristic that most defined Bob was undoubtedly his selfless love of, and devotion to, his family and his friends. Bapa loved to laugh and he loved to hug. I learned early on in this family, you don’t shake hands and exchange pleasantries; you share hugs and kisses, no matter how old you are. Bapa loved to cuddle with the grandkids…most of the photos we have of the family have one or more of the kids in his lap, snuggled up against him. Nothing meant more to him than his family.

Nothing, that is, except the great love of his life, his girlfriend, wife, and lifelong companion, Jeanne. It amazes all of us who know them that a couple can actually be married as long as they were and never once be heard exchanging a harsh word! In fact, the love Jeanne and Bob shared was the stuff of an epic story, one that went on for almost 60 yrs! Through thick and thin, through hard times and good, they always had each other. A few years ago, I noticed a series of Post-It notes on their bulletin board. The first said “I love you:” the second, “I love you more” and the third, “Your husband loves you more!” The last of these was dated June 27, 2005, the day before Bob went into the hospital. It simply said the same as the first one: “I love you.” It turns out that for years he had been placing the same notes all over the house where Jeanne could find them. Once again, the way he loved Jeanne could serve as a shining example for all of us.

Jeanne and the rest of us know that despite his physical absence, he will continue to be with her and the rest of us for as long as we live. We know Bapa wouldn’t want any of us to mourn his passing either very long, or even very seriously. But this wonderful, exceptional man, this good-natured, loving husband, father, grandfather and friend, will always serve as a model of how full a life a person can truly live. Those of us who were lucky enough to know and love Bob (Bapa) Mueller, will have him in our memories, and in our hearts, forever.

Thank you.

We're going to move inside now because I think the mosquitos are going to start coming around. Or is that mosquitoes?

Dennis wants me to go check on whether there are tomatoes in the fridge. And I need to check on the tots! Todd is BBQ-ing and it smells awesome, Madison is swinging with Dennis on the swing and chatting with Shelley-- a great summer day!!!

Mary and I are here sitting by the pool playing Civilization, while Dad educates us on various and sundry topics of current disinterest. What a fine day!

Here is Cindy up at Sea Ranch, playing our favorite game, Puerto Rico, with Eric and Mary.

Shelley said that Madison rolled over twice 2 days ago. Shelley, Todd, Eric, Mary and I were watching her on her blanket here tonight. She'd kick her legs up in the air, squeal, and flip to one side, almost make the rollover, but always getted stopped by her one arm. She'd try one side and then the other but despite about 30 -40 attempts, she never quite made it. Eric and she had quite a conversation during a break in the action. "Shoddison" (Shelley, Todd, and Madison) went home about 10 o'clock. They'll be back again tomorrow with their friend Brian for a barbecue and sharing of some Zac's pizza that Meric (Mary and Eric) brought back from Berkeley.

Dennis

I just got back from a week in Madison. Bapa's funeral was yesterday. It was serious, but not maudlin, as Bapa would have disapproved if it had been too heavy. There was a short military ceremony with 21-gun salute and Taps played by a friend of Bob's. I gave a Tribute at the luncheon afterwards that I might post at a later time. Then Jason, Eric, Mary and I drove all over Madison trying to find a place to give the leftover food. We finally found the Salvation Army and they were happy to accept it. We had fancy clothes on from the funeral, suits, ties, etc and we were driving Bapa's Cadillac, which we parked in the back to be less obvious. If we hadn't found them, we were going to have to drive around and yell out "Buns for Bums..." and see if we got any takers...

Dennis