Donna says I am a deep thinker. Give me a minute to think about that. I take that as a compliment. I have so much yet to learn and see. With others or on my own. Let me take you into my world. I'm looking down instead of up after the rattler that rattled my confidence walking in the woods. I'm of the mettle to face my insecurities head on but, albeit with trepidation. With encouragement, I'll find my step again and know I have nothing to fear out here when I venture off the trail. We all fear the unknown but I know my woods. Nurture the nature and the beast within me that tries to scare me.......

I'm sitting in my rusty lawn chair among the tall pines and I see butterflies with beautiful black wings and fluorescent blue bodies that flit from twig to twig. They sit and flutter their feathers like they've been born today and looking at a bunch of them I think it is their first day on this earth. Happy birthday boys and girls. You are so beautiful to me. Where do these God given creatures fit into the scheme of life? A butterfly puts on a colorful display of life at it's best. So simple. So beautiful and so free.....

To my left is a big, thick pine tree that is as old as I am and it is in much better shape than I am. It's Upper Michigan green like Washington state green. Or, your hometown green. It will live another score or two years after I'm sent back to the earth that makes this tree  tall. Who will be sitting here next? Who will see it? So many questions I have....

Ants at my feet climb my white shoes and up my socks which cover my pants from the tics. Life broken down to its smallest but as regimented as ours. They have jobs. They are hardy workers. Teamsters. If they traveled a thousand yards it would be like me walking to Paris. Who has the bigger or smaller life? The better life? Because I have a larger brain doesn't guarantee me being smarter. It's how I use it and how the ants use it. From what I see ants have a plan. Can we say as much? So many questions..

A leaf has veins. So do we. It grows from a bud if the squirrels leave them alone. Bright green in color it is in the dawn of its life under the sun. As the summer goes on it gets larger and more vibrant yellow and green. In the fall of its life comes into its own combined with other multi colored leaves that send us to the country to sip apple cider and doughnuts gasping at the colorful sights our trees and its leaves display.  And then, they die. Like we all shall. They float into the wind and dip and fall to the ground to become mulch for the next tree. A worthy life but one season short....

Welcome to my world. I'm not depressed anymore. I have good friends. Boomer is a great site and I can lean on you when I am troubled. Or, I can drop you a line and say hey when I am able. And, I can have my life here. Deep into the woods of my mind. I am what I am. I like that....

Easy...

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I'll call my dad today and we will talk baseball after I tell him he is the best dad any son would ever want. He'll say, "Yea. Ok." He doesn't forward much information lately because there is little good news to share. So, we end up talking baseball. He might tell me about when he got hit in the face (broke his nose) with a fastball thrown by a Japanese picture while he was there during the occupation a the end of WW2. Or, he might tell me about the time he hit homers from both sides of the plate back in high school. One of his favorite players was a guy named Pete Fox who played for the Tigers during WW2. Pete Fox had one arm and all the able bodied men were off fighting a war. It seems what goes around comes around.....

Baseball is our bridge in communication when the words we want to say are so hard to say. Don't get me wrong, my dad knows I love him. I even kiss his cheek every time I leave him. I was hard on him through the years. I thought he made too many mistakes in his life and was too friendly with people and his money. I told him he should have never left Republic because the big city (Detroit) ate him alive. How prophetic is that? I guess we all want our father to be perfect but they never are?
The older the son gets the smarter the dad gets. It's that simple...

My dad is legging out a stand up triple right now. Reaching down into his gut to pull out the mental perseverance needed to die gracefully and honestly. He isn't afraid to die. Far from it. It's just tough to be sitting on the bench because he can't hit a high fastball anymore. He packs his mitt and cleats into a sports bag knowing soon he will be going on his last road trip. His season of baseball seasons is coming to a close. I'll give him a hug and a kiss when he says goodbye to baseball and life. He'll do it all with dignity and the class of an all star. Wanna play catch, Dad?...

This home run is for you dad!!!!

Happy Father's Day......Gene

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 almost stepped on an almost rattlesnake last Thursday. I was on my way home and passing my neighbors empty line shack when I did a half step and backward jump to avoid a nasty looking snake curled up and ready to strike. A rattle on its tail was buzzing away so I backed away and sat on the deck to watch it for awhile. I called Gracie because I wanted to share it with someone. I described the snake to her; light brown with black patches and a dark brown head. I figured it was about four feet long and I was sure it was a rattler. It wasn't....It is a pine snake which does have small rattles on its tail but is not venomous. It eats small birds, frogs and rodents. But, not Easy. I took some pics but it fits in so well with the terrain I can't tell where the snake is to show you.....

One of the really nice guys in Republic has Lymphoma Cancer and the whole town is shook up. I stopped by to say hi to "Bob" yesterday and he was real quiet and pensive. There is not a nicer guy than Bob and we're all praying that his surgery in the coming days will be a success. The prognosis doesn't look good. I'd appreciate it if you'd say a prayer for Bob from Republic. This one hurts...

On a lighter note, the weather is heating up and the bugs are lethal. Another fan of Trout Falls Chronicles bought me a suds when she recognized me from the cover picture. It really makes my day when I get a positive response to my writing. I am so proud of that book and the circumstances of when I wrote it. I have Jerry Harju in my sights. Eh, Gracie? (The amazing editor)....

The Leaky Teaky 2 will hit the water for the first time this summer. Or, is it still Spring? I'll do some lazy trolling for a pike or two. The Wisconsin biker boys are in town and across the lake. These guys and gals know how to party. I was over there Thursday night and it was midnight when I decided to head back home. I chose to walk the 2 miles instead of trusting myself on Blue. Too dark and one two many suds. Nope. No flashlight either. I like these walks at night. It is so dark. No streetlights. No sounds other than critters I couldn't see but did appreciate. It was a great walk in the moonlight and when I got home one of the bikers called to make sure I'd made it home. Hmmmpphh. Like I wouldn't?

Have a great weekend, eh? Be safe and don't get sun burnt. Be careful around water and watch the kids close. Hug a friend or a loved one for no good reason. I'll probably hug a tree......

Easy...

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I passed by the Republic cemetery yesterday and she was there again. She lost her husband six years ago and hardly a day doesn't go by when she doesn't stop to say hello to her mate of 42 years. He died suddenly and life hasn't been easy for her since. It is so hard to let go. It is so hard to move on and put her loss in that special place. We all grieve different. She cuts the grass where he lies. She sits in a folding chair and talks to him. Sometimes she  just sits in her car looking at this headstone. God bless her....

Cemeteries are a solemn but special place in all of our lives. I will be buried in the Champion cemetery is 20 miles north of Republic and it is where all the Plankey's are laid to rest. Cousin Keith, who died of a massive heart attack at 33. My Uncle Johnny who died of the same at 54. The VA put the wrong war on his headstone. We've talked of getting it changed but decided it wasn't necessary. Uncle Johnny would just say, "Can I have another PB &J?"....

In Republic, we have a company that sells headstones. They have a sign on M-95 that says, "Take your time. We'll wait for you". Gotta love that. The owners name is Huff*** but we call him Jimmy Hoffa. Don't tell anyone he is here, eh? I don't make up this stuff folks. Honest.  Lol.

I love walking through cemeteries. They have so much to say on a quiet day when the sun is high in the deep blue sky. It's a good book to be read. I've never admitted this to anyone but I shall now. I was about ten when I spent an afternoon in the other Champion cemetery. The Catholic cemetery. I found a headstone that told in rhyme of a boy who died tragically at the age of six. A picture of a boy looking up at the sun and its rays was etched into the cement stone. I went down to my knees, bent over and kissed the stone. Today, I still have no idea why I did it. I knew I was sad for this boy I didn't know. It just wasn't right. I guess it was then I first realized how precious life is. I found out that day I have feelings for others. To a fault sometimes....

I can't think of anything else to say.....

Easy....

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Jim and I go way back. A long time ago we were in kindergarten together in Republic. Were both 60 now and he is a real tick magnet. This is why most call him Ticky today. I still prefer Jim. He says he came out of the woods when he was a kid loaded with ticks and the name stuck like they do when I find them behind my knee at three in the morning. It's an amusing story told many times through the years but not what I want to tell you about this morning....

He picked me up yesterday so we could both get our clothes washed at the laundromat in nearby Ishpeming. We once had a laundromat in Republic. We once had a grocery store in Republic. Now, we don't have much in Republic but I love the town as much as I love Detroit. I'm either nuts or very loyal. I'll take the latter and hope I don't fall off of it.....

So. Jim pulls out one of those bottles that is corked and inside is a plastic fish dangling from a line seemingly hanging from nowhere. I'm sure you've seen those ships in a bottle that make you wonder how they get inside that little hole in the neck of the bottle. It is an art he learned from his dad Whiskey Bill. I knew Whiskey Bill and I didn't even know he drank and it's because I never saw him sober. He was a mean man who picked on my best buddy unmercifully as a child. No matter how hard Jim tried he couldn't please his father but now looking at this work of art I think he might be proud of his son now. I sure hope so...

He is donating the fish in the bottle to the Republic Sportsmen's Club which sponsors our annual fishing derby which is the one weekend when people come to Republic on purpose. He was offered $200 for it but his heart is in the right place and a raffle will decide who owns it next. I told him while sorting my clothes and when we weren't complaining about having to be washing clothes that he should make another one and I will sell it on Ebay for him. He has an amazing talent and I think he could sell these to help make ends meet. Neither of us are rich but our friendship is priceless....

Cute little story, eh? Well. There is more. Jim has Parkinson's disease. Like Muhammad Ali and Michael Keaton. Last hunting season I stayed the night at his camp and watched him working on another bottle when he tried to assemble a ladder inside a small bottle. I won't give away his secrets but I can tell you he just couldn't do anything right that night. His hands shaked so bad I wanted to grab them to make them stop. It was painful to watch. But, he wouldn't give up. As painful as us it is with us getting old he would start all over and the ladder would fall again and again . I have my Cancer and he has his own debilitating disease too. I felt so bad for him that night I cried later. I knew that night he was going to have to give up making miracles inside a bottle like he has stopped shaving with a razor. Like he stopped trying to write words on paper. Like he gave up a myriad of things the rest of us take for granted....

And now, here is with a fish in a bottle when it is impossible to get that fish through that little hole in the neck. I was so proud of him. I still am today and wanted you to know that WE can do anything no matter or disability or prejudice. I think when we give up trying to be normal we shall die. When we give up living we start dying....

I just thought you might want to hear one more of those feel good stories I like writing about. A true story of a lifelong friendship that has wavered but never died. When those of us who overcome insurmountable odds to just be one of the guys. Or girls. We must never give up until our heart does. And then, it is a worthy time to rest.....

Easy....

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 Island Lake is dead calm this morning and I'm watching two baby squirrels chasing each other up and down the trees outside my window. They are having a ball.They act like they've never done it before. I want some of that. Ahhh, to be young again. I take this view for granted at times but it is still breathtaking and the one constant in my ever changing life. Colors of green, blue and grayish white cover the ice-like surface and if I look close I can see those water bugs dancing atop the water and circle waves cascading out into larger circles and then they fade away. I feel like I am fading away too and I can't seem to turn it around. I went to the woods for answers and came to some conclusions I don't like. About me.....

I sit here waiting for the days inspiration that will get me dressed and to have a reason to smile. I can't seem to let go of the past. I can't seem to live in the present thinking about my future. I feel so alone. I'm in a major slump. I swing at bad pitches. I drop easy fly balls and prove I can make anything a baseball metaphor. I think of all the god times I've had in my life and how easy they came to me. Especially since I moved here to my cabin on Island Lake and since I've joined boomer. I want those days back but I am trying to force matters I can't control my life but sure can screw it  up. Now, my body aches, I have bug bites on top of bug bites, and I get so frustrated with freezing temps when everyone else is basking in 70 degree days. Those little,comical squirrels are one up on me today. I wear my emotions on my sleeve and again wonder where the heck I am going and how to get there. I love being alone but I miss the ones who have made my life a joy. I've squandered opportunities, I've walked away from happiness thinking it it wouldn't bring me any. I can't place the blame on myself or anyone else and think it is just the normal hazards life and living. Just call me 'hap' hazard.......

I love my metal detecting. I don't like the arthritis I have in my hands that make it painful to enjoy the fun of finding something I want. Another metaphor. I may have to give it up because the fun seems gone and the pain stays. I don't feel sorry for myself but melancholy is creeping in like a storm cloud over the horizon. I have to turn this around and get that happy feeling again. I've worked real hard the last few years for others to trust me. Once, no one would trust me. To know that when I say something it will be true and when I do something it will be applauded and not scorned. I am only as good as my word and my actions. It brings good deeds but I feel like I ran out from under that umbrella and it's raining hard times...

I finally got to my favorite fishing hole knowing this would cure me at least for a day. I break my pole and catch nothing except for more disappointment. I can't seem to get any positive motivation going. I sit here thinking of what it is I want. Sometimes I think it is a significant other I need. But, that is folly. Sometimes it is money. Sometimes it is my writing. But, sometimes I can't find the forest from the trees....

I must be nuts for sharing this with you. I am an open book. What you see is what you get. I've lost weight and can't seem to get it back. I lose more. I should be in Detroit with my dad but I sit here knowing how much I detest that city life. I need to find a way to get down there and have places to stay. It's discouraging talking to my dad and he is more upbeat than I am. He is strong and I am weak....

I'm no different than others. I'm just a sad Bob Dylan song. My stuff is just different. Stress kills even out here where I seemingly have none. I find it in my mind when it isn't there. I have to turn this around. I'm not having much fun. I think I need help and have emailed my Christian counselor who has helped me over and over when I fought alcohol, depression and a reason to trust God. I hope it is a stepping stone across the turbulent waters of my insecurities and loneliness. Is there hope for me? You betcha. I've been down before and I will be back again. Until then, I need to chase a squirrel, clean up the camp and mend my tortured mind that led me to being called chicken little when I was in the Marines. The sky isn't falling. I just think I am....

Easy....

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I went to the woods to find answers and for the most part I found myself alone in the woods and cold. It was close to freezing Friday night. And, I found out today that it is the coldest June in 100 years. We have a way of doing things right in Upper Michigan. Yes. I love it. I have a way of doing things different than most folks and I revel in it. I hovered and shivered around freezing but I made the best of a bad situation. Did I mention the rain? At least it waited until I found my campsite near my trout stream where I broke my pole in half after a snagged cast and it was the end to fishing before I'd caught a brookie. No fish on a stick tonight. Can I do anything right? Yes I can.

I set up my tent a couple hours before dark where I could hear the water running but far enough away on a high piece of ground with a rock boulder to cover my back from the wind. It is a good camp for the night. I like to live Hemingway's Nick Adams life and I wondered what he would do in my neck of the woods. Would he bail and head back home to a warm camp with his tail between his legs? I think not. I didn't either. I gathered twigs, dry wood and especially tree bark. It keeps a fire going and with the rain I needed all the help I could get. I covered a pile of night logs with Blue's raincoat and thought of Gracie. The gift she sent me has paid dividends over and over like our friendship has. Before long, I was melancholy cool and had a ripper fire going as the rain hissed as it hit the fire. Ok. The rain mostly stopped and I settled in to my night in the woods. This is what I wanted and I was where I wanted to be. Just don't tell my mom, eh?...

I was hungry and I came prepared. The smell of the food might cost me but with the swirling winds I wasn't worried. I sat back on a downed tree limb and ate a venison sandwich with tomato's that eeked out and fell on the ground. I ate Chito puffs for dessert and It wasn't a big mac and fries but I didn't want one anyway. I was a long way from McDonald's and his farm....e i e i o....

I dropped a tape into my cassette player and blasted Steely Dan (batteries included). Bears don't like music and I love Deacon Blues. 'I'll be who I want to be. Sue me if I play to long'. The sound beats any shotgun or rusty knife and I pulled out my trusty notebook and my best pen while I looked around the perimeter. Go Wings!! The fire crackled and I relaxed for the first time. A squirrel scampered through the brush, a robin called for a mate, a crow squawked above me, and a chippie chipped. Oh God, thank you for bringing me here...

I thought of meems. A sweetie. I thought of Donna. I thought of Junie and Alan. But, mostly, I thought of Deb. She was in the hospital and I know that scene too well. I pray hard for her. I think of Hart and I smile. She's special. I think of Jess worried about sis. I think of Sharkifin, candyappletree, buttercup and starfire. I think of savedbygrace and hope I am too. I think of active and fight off the time I'm not. I'm feeling good now. In my element. I come to the conclusion I am at my best out here. No matter how bad it is I thrive here when I don't out there. I make so many mistakes. I say the wrong thing and I do the wrong thing. I say one thing and mean another. I make mistakes daily but out here I don't. I can't. It's just _me..

Darkness creeps in like reality does. I don't want it to get dark. I can't stop it though. I shiver. I toss a log on the fire and the sparks dance into the sky. Like my hopes and dreams. What have I solved coming to the woods? I can't write it down. It's too personal. What does life mean? It means get out of the rain. I take a sleeping pill and crawl into my tent where it is cold until my body heat kicks in. I get drowsy. I think good thoughts. I fall asleep...

It's Easy....

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What does MyboomerPlace mean to me? It means I can smell the fresh corn growing in an Iowa field and it means I can walk under a waterfall in Hawaii. It means I can enjoy the Navy Pier in Chicago and it means I can ride in a horse carriage in Georgia with one of those Southern Bells wearing a pink bonnet. It means when I am sick I have the bond of mighty prayers to get me well. It means I am here for you at 3 in the morning if you want someone to talk to. Just knowing all of you are out there enables me to lay my head down at night after a particular lousy day. And I can do it all from my front row view of the wilderness outside my cabin on Island Lake. Three miles from nowhere and right here with you....

You have been here with me as I have battled cancer, loneliness, disappointment, elation and immense chosen joy. I've written many blogs I am poroud of. Boomer gave me a venue to write and tell you about my life. Being on boomer has set me free. I love my solitary life but I know I am never alone. All of you only a click away. I click my account for messages and read the home page and I'm home. With you. It doesn't get any better than Boomer....

I need a favor from all of you who read this. Boomer doesn't come to us cheap. Admin, TC or as I call him, Tom, pretty much flips the bill for keeping the server running and all the other duties necessary to be operation. He has able moderators who help him because they care about boomer. I have had the pleasure of being in Tom's command post and watching boomer from his eyes. I have no idea what is going on but he bounces around like a jackrabbit, ok, and older rabbit, and bingo! We pull up boomer and there it is. Every day. Energizer Bunny Mitch Rider everyday...

I challenge you think about and send boomer a donation for operating expenses. Boomer is going to continue whether we donate or not. That's not what this is all about. It's about letting admin breathe a little and think of knew ways to make the site even better. He is the man who got us here and who will stay up with the times as the internet evolves. But, he needs help. He has principles and will not stoop to using some not so great methods to get advertising. Helping boomer is helping ourselves....

I will match the first $100.00 in donations. I, also will be donating a bunch of my books to be given away to people who help the cause. I know you want my book. Right? Donate now and go Gold too....

I am also going to do a couple video's(more if they are ok) 'live' from Upper Michigan, Beaver Creek and my spot in the woods. They will be funny. You will laugh. I will make you laugh.....I hear Tom may even have some of my outtakes when we were together and filming. They are brutal but I'll sit above the water and you throw softballs at the bullsyeye....Donate now......

Easy...aka...Gene Plankey...

God bless and thanking you in advance for your generosity..

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