2022- Saying goodbye to year that felt as if it barely started.

 

Sigh. On average, I would day 2022 was a pretty good year for me. Of course, like all the others that proceeded it, ups and downs. My yearend (rear end) review:

I retired after serving on the same job for (almost) 23 years. With all of the feels that go with leaving my career, I think I miss the people I worked with (believe it or not) the most. An I.T. guy for nearly as long as the personal computer, I have seen both the good and bad of technology. Recently, it feels “more bad.” Part of my parting with my job has to do with the fact I believe we humans have mismanaged the real benefits of technology. Parents appear to be more concerned with CRT (A concept more a politician’s boondoggle than a real worry), than the fact their little darlings are dancing naked on tiktoc in front of the whole world.

Still, I miss the pretty teachers and their entire “oooh-ahhh” approach to seeing me fix something. And the kids that actually applauded me (at the teacher’s behest). “Isn’t mister Glaudell amazing, children? Let’s give him a round of applause!”  That part felt rewarding as hell. Also, their ever-so-innocent flirting and baking cookies (et cetera) to get me to look into their issue first. It was a good gig, and I’m glad I spent my time there.

This year I played some music. All by myself. I found myself on a couple of big stages this year. On my musical bucket list has always been the allusive “Brat Fest,” held annually on Willow Island in the heart of Madison. All the best local bands have graced the stages there. A last minute hole in the schedule, and a call from Natalie from The Crystal Grand (bless her!) and I was suddenly up on the program. I began the day’s music at 11am, and had a short, 40 minute set. During my set, the seats were mostly empty. However, some of my followers actually made it and said hello to me after the set.

Then, in October (thanks again to Natalie and all the folks at the Crystal Grand) I found myself on the big stage, actually opening for Tommy James and the Shondells. Again, a short 40 minute set of (mostly) original material. I was honored and humbled by the crowd, as they actually applauded much and laughed at the right places. (with me, not at me). Wow, what a ride that was.

I performed on several other outside shows during the summer, and all were well received. At one point, a winery owner saying, “Well, we had a pretty good day. And we can attribute most of that to you.” (I answered him in my usual smart-asse-ery): “Gee. I didn’t know I drank that much.

It was all good. No rainouts. Only a couple of small mix-ups. And all the rest went well. I appreciate the folks that came to see me. Thank you!

I purchased an RV. As per my “evil” plan, the idea was to walk away from work on that last day, middle fingers flyin’ high (to the “man”), board the SS RV DALEGOESAWAY, and sail off into the sunset. Well, it didn’t quite happen that way. But, I did get an RV. Big waste of money or gateway to a better life? You decide.

As the RV I could best afford was a gently used Airstream Basecamp 16-foot pull-behind. Small in comparison to most on the roadway. Still, from what I was able to glean from all my reading and comparing, this Airstream Basecamp 16x was a very road-worthy and worthwhile towable. Even my son remarked, “Gee, dad. You normally don’t go in for the top of the line stuff. I was expecting something else.” (I’ll bet. I’m not as “Uncle Eddie” as you think, son.)

The trailer (Christened “Shorty”) had nearly everything a camper might want: Wet bath. Shower. Full Kitchen with Propane stove, microwave and good sized refrigerator. It also has solar on the roof, off-road capabilities. A TV with antenna. Hot water and duel electric/propane heat. The people I bought it from also included a full-sized mattress kit (for the back), very comfy. All packed into a small-towable package. Good stuff. However, now it’s winter in Wisconsin and she’s in storage until April. Not quite the life-changing experience I wanted. Still we did get some good usage from her.  

Adventures: Judy and I managed to take some trips. In the spring (before we got the trailer) to Kohler- Andre state park, east Wisconsin shoreline. Nice area. Highly recommended.

We picked up the trailer from a nice couple that lived in Indiana. (Small town not far from Indianapolis). It was windy on the way back and as it was my first time hauling anything, it was quite a challenge. Thanks to Judy, we made it there and back in just a day.

We took Shorty out for her inaugural “camp” nearby at Skillet Creek just down the street. Nice campground. Though the weather (rainy and cold) had much to be desired. Finally figured out how to operate the furnace in the trailer, and having an alternative heat source (Hello, Mr. Heater portable heater) also really helped.

We drove it all the way to Door County, where we spent the weekend at the Wagon Wheel Campground in Rowley’s Bay at the far north east tip on the peninsula. I like Rowley’s Bay, partially because the history of Mr. Rowley, himself. (from the Rowley Bay resort web site:  is named after Peter Rowley, a curmudgeon of a man who searched for solitude on a scale hard to imagine in today’s world. If another settler pitched camp a few miles away, it was enough to send Rowley packing and searching for a new homestead. Making his way up the Door Peninsula in the late 1830’s, his last stop was Rowleys Bay.)

A man after my own heart! 

The weekend went well, save for a big storm that rolled through. But, we discovered the little cove acted as a hedge against bad weather from the West. We managed in the little trailer, with electric and watched movies while the winds and rains blew around us.

Our next camping adventure was just that. I was warned that when you reach a certain age, it’s probably not incumbent to tent camp, unless you’re really “that type.” We discovered with some dispatch, we were not “that type.” Judy wanted to continue a family tradition, and to honor her dad which passed away earlier in the year. So, I got to meet her cousins. In the rain. In the pouring, frickin’ rain! It’s like the stupid Wild Cat Mountain State Park instinctively knew we were going to tent camp.

From the moment we set up the footings of the tent, it rained. And not just a little. It came down in sheets. Probably the most rain that area has seen in some time, all at once. Judy fell on her ankle (twisted and bruised, but thankfully no break), and I was left to setup tent in the mud in the cold, in the wilderness. It was awful, and I was grumpy all weekend.

Still, the canoe trip (my first) down the Kickapoo was much fun and her cousins all were great people. The top of the end of the trip was watching the majestic sun set in the west from “Lookout Point.” The views were breathtaking. Then later, we popped over the star observatory where they were giving a talk about the stars. The rain clouds gave way to a velvet sky filled with a thousand points of light. Made the whole crappy weekend so much better.

The next camping weekend we went to Turtle Island County park just South of La Crosse. We endured the mosquitoes and skunk and beer-seeking raccoon. It rained. The best thing, was getting to see and chat with Mike (from Checkered Past) for a few minutes. He talked mostly politics, but it’s still good to see him looking svelte and hale.  

When we returned, it was only a few days away from my retirement day. A day I never really expected would come. It was (appropriately) a Wednesday afternoon, August 31^st, when I shook the hand of my co-worker (friend) Dan. The next week was the start of a brand new school year, and the hallways were spotless and the rooms all finished, awaiting the new charges. The place smelled clean.

My office was located in the Spring Hill Elementary school, which, besides the new high school was a newer building. For the last time I locked the door, and shut out my office lights. I just had to end my day at Central Office to turn in my master keys, FOB and work phone. I was extremely proud of the fact in the near 23 years of work, I never lost my keys…. Well, I miss-placed them a time or two, but never lost them.

I never got a chance to say goodbye to the District administrator, whom I was grateful that he made a good deal with me to stay on through the summer, to help the district ready for the next year, at least technology-wise. He wasn’t in his office when I dropped off the keys… Lee and set myself free.

He also didn’t make it to the retirement party a few weeks after that. I guess I know now which side of the “please, Dale, don’t go” he stood on. Oh, well. Life is way too short to hold any grudges. And I don’t. After all I was hired on from “before.” Before he was the district admin, and even before his predecessor. So, I’m sure I was viewed as a bit of stale air, blowing through the district.

And he would be right about that, too. To be honest, I had long-ago ran out of forward-thinking ideas and resorted to giving “history lessons” to Dan, and started too many sentences with “Now, when I first came here…”

Part of it was that damned COVID. Part of it was my not-terrific boss. Part of it was I was tired of technology. I fell in love with computers in the 90’s. I fell out of love with computers when kids started TIKTOK-ing, and other awful so-called “social media” BS which is now on our screens every blasted day. Technology (and the Internet, specifically) was meant for us to mass-communicate, and collaborate. Not to instigate.

Well, much was made about a speech I made at the goodbye retirees lunch before the summer. I did it pretty much off the cuff. Made a joke (some got it) and then told a couple of stories. Lots of folk seemed to enjoy it, especially that for the past 23 years I had been fooling everyone into thinking I knew what I was doing, when essentially… all I did was unplug it, waited a few seconds and then plugged it back in. By the way, this is mostly true. Of course, it took me 2 degrees, about 40k and a lot of work to get to that point.

In any case, I did what I could in the waning days of my employment. Tried to say goodbye to folks and generally kept my head in the game. But, frankly… and for some odd reason…I don’t seem to miss it at all (yet). Still, that last day was a big lump in my throat.

We move on smartly.

In August, I finally broke down (literally) and traded in the little mini Cooper for a big azz truck. I still miss the little car. But, the truck (Chevy Silverado) pick up will safely haul “Shorty” and anything else I need.

September, we took Shorty to the little hamlet of Blair for Judy to see her daughter and grandkids. They let us park in their back yard. Very good and very bad. Turns out, Blair in late September is big on Cheese Fest. Light on the cheese, heavy on the tractor pulls. Tractor pulls. Tractors. And more tractors. Son, you ain’t never seen tractors until you’ve been in Blair for “Cheese Fest!”

In all seriousness, it really wouldn’t have been all that bad, except where her daughter lives in right on the main drag and the Tractor pulls go nearly all night long. Main Street is where the tractor vs. heavy weight machine takes place. Hours upon hours of smoke, gasoline, diesel, burning rubber and destroyed transmissions. And we inhaled it all.

Then, just to add to the cacophony of the noise, just one block over bands were busy serenading the locals with the latest rock and country songs at ear-ringing volumes (God, I miss those days!). Judy spent the first night ogling the lead singer (or bass player, not sure which one) and dancing, whilst I went back to the camper to try (try, try) to lower my blood pressure by reading and napping in between pulls.

The best parts of course, was that she got to see her kid and her grandkids and doggie and kitties and….did I mention tractors? Why, I even got my son to come out of his cave of solace to travel down from cosmopolitan Eau Clare and join us for a meal. I tried to apologize to him for the “red-neck-ness of it all” and I think he took offence to that… he told me he had a great time. I was glad. But, if I taught him anything, it was to be polite.

After three days and two night of tractors, seems like the town finally ran out of ammo and had a parade instead.  In true Blair style, the tractors came from across the land for one more showing, along with marching bands (her granddaughter played in one of them). Ignoring latest convention, candies were tossed from the floats, as some gave out Busch beer to the (probably) hung over adults lodged in their lawn chairs.

“Son, run and grab me a beer and run it over to back to me…. “

I managed. We dislodged from our parking spot and headed home. It was nearly dark by the time we got home. It took only two days for the noise of those tractors to get out of my head…

Visited my brother, Nobel in late October and it was so good to see him. My one niece (her very cool teen daughter) and nephew were also there. We all went out for lunch in Glen Ellyn at a nice restaurant. It was a nice family visit. I have a cool family.

Finally, I closed out the year in a fine form as the NYE entertainment at a small wine bar in Baraboo. I only played until a bit after 9pm, and then we headed over to Michael’s Italian Restaurant for a delicious meal. We decided to stop down at Gem City and catch Baraboo favorites “Blacker Brothers” for a few numbers. We made it home just in time to catch the NYE Rockin’ eve on TV.

So long 2022. Moving onward.