Missing the Storm

Weather-related incidents can mark the mental timeline we use to navigate our past.  As one ages, and milestones become fewer and further between, the catastrophes of Mother Nature can help anchor us the way, say, an important national calamity can (do you remember the year of the Challenger explosion or the year the Iran Hostage Crisis began?  I bet you do.  1986 and 1979, respectively, for those of you playing along at home).  I still fondly remember the snow storm of ’79, less fondly the heat wave of ’95, and in Elmhurst where I currently live, people still talk about the flood of ’87.  Unfortunately, they’ll probably also be talking about the flood of 2010 for years to come, the Storm of the Century apparently occurring now every twenty-five years or so.

Floods are particularly harsh disasters to look back on with any kind of nostalgia, but other storms can foster warm memories or inspire animated yarns.  We may not be able to change the weather, and we may lean on the weather for small talk far too often, but living through a natural disaster makes for some good storytelling.   My grandfather used to regale me with stories about the weather, including the blizzard of 1947 in Milwaukee, when he had to abandon the city bus he drove for a living and head for a stranger’s home for shelter.  My son and I like to talk about the storm of August 2007, when we had to flee the highway in favor of Fry’s Electronics, and how it took us an hour to drive the five miles home due to fallen trees at every turn.

Storms can also bring us together, igniting a sense of community that’s so often absent from our lives, especially during the fleeting daylight of winter, when days seem to last no longer than an episode of The Office.  When my wife and I were living in New York in 1995, we knew no one in our apartment complex until the day it snowed.  Suddenly, every abled body was outside with a shovel, unearthing their cars like ancient artifacts.  The forty plus inches of snow in Chicago during December of 2000 helped acclimate my family to our new home as we met neighbors almost daily while we hoisted shovels of snow from our driveways and sidewalks.

As for 2011, I’ll never recall the great snow of two weeks ago when we were hit with twenty-plus inches the way I do past blizzards, because my wife and I happened to be in Las Vegas that week, the first time we’d been away from home without the kids for more than two nights since 1998.  And wouldn’t you know it?  We missed the biggest snow fall since 1967.  Vegas was great, but while we watched the Weather Channel for images of driving snow and the sounds of the very bizarre and, to me, heretofore unheard of “thundersnow,” I wished we could be experiencing it firsthand with the kids.  They’ll forever remember 2011 as the year of the blizzard.  I’ll remember it as the year my wife and I broke even.

At least, that’s what I thought until four days later.  Now we’ll all remember 2011 as the year the Packers won Super Bowl 45.  Fortunately, not all events that anchor our memories are weather-related.

Packer Essay broadcasted on 89.7, WUWM Milwaukee

Press play to listen to my essay broadcasted on 89.7 WUWM's Lake Effect program on Feb 9, 2011.

The Waiting: A Packers Championship

I was still in the womb when the Packers won their second Super Bowl in 1968, and my daughters were in the womb twenty-nine years later when the Packers finally won their third.  Although it might have been somewhat poetic had the Packers' fourth Super Bowl victory taken place with the next generation in utero, I’m happy to say that my children won’t have to spend their first three decades on earth hearing about the Glory Days.  Instead, they witnessed them firsthand last night, when the Packers beat the Steelers Super Bowl XLV.

It just so happens that the first Packer game I can remember also took place against the Pittsburgh Steelers, this one in 1975, a 16-13 loss at County Stadium in Milwaukee.  My father and brother went to the game while the rest of the family watched on TV, and I was certain that I could see my father’s checkered pants and my brother’s lanky frame as the camera scanned the crowd.  Losing had become such a tradition in Green Bay by 1975 that the Milwaukee Sentinel headline the next day read (if memory serves): “Losing Packers: Don’t Feel Bad.”  That’s right.  A close game against the defending Super Bowl champions was considered a moral victory for the lumbering Packers. 

Green Bay finished with a 4-10 record that year, and while people kept telling me that Bart Starr was The Man, The Myth, The Legend, as head coach he appeared significantly less than legendary.  I’d never seen clips from the first two Super Bowls or the classic quarterback sneak in the Ice Bowl against Dallas.  I'd only heard the stories.  For many, those last great victories had taken place merely seven years earlier.  But for me, they'd occurred a lifetime ago. 

Prior to yesterday’s victory, it had been fourteen years between Super Bowl wins for the Packers.  Even if another fourteen years times two pass before Green Bay wins the next one, that’ll be sooner than how long those born in the tumultuous year of 1968 had to wait to witness a championship.

Soak it up, young fans.  Championships are a thrill for they simple reason that they happen so infrequently.  You may have to wait a little longer for the Brewers to win a World Series, but I put down some money in Vegas last week for a Brewer appearance in the next October Classic at 8-1 odds.  And who knows?  After last night and the Packers finishing the year with an improbable six straight victories, anything can happen.

An R Movie For the Whole Family - The King's Speech

In 1980 I asked my father to take me to see the movie “Alien” for reasons that now escape me.  Apparently I hadn’t been sufficiently scarred from viewing The Exorcist (on TV no less, but no less horrifying).  Asking my father was a cunning ploy, for he’d moved out the year prior and I thought he might be up for overruling my mother’s wishes.  Seeing “Alien” could be a little secret among us men; mom would never have to know.  Turns out I was wrong.  After initially giving a “sure, we do that,” I reintroduced the topic a few weeks later only to be told that because it was rated R, “Alien” was off the table.  A year later, my mother took me to see my first R-rated film, “Ordinary People,” which was no ordinary movie, but was certainly appropriate for a 12 year old despite the rating. 

I recently followed my mother’s example by taking my entire family to see “The King’s Speech,” including my almost-nine-year old son and two thirteen year-old daughters.  I’d already read the opinions of several movie critics who blasted the Motion Picture Association of America for rating “The King’s Speech” the same as “Hostel” and “Saw 3D” due to a string of profanities used not in a spiteful or sexual way, but as a tool to help overcome a stutter that had plagued England’s King George VI since childhood. 

The criticisms aimed at the MPAA are entirely justified, and the organization should be dismantled not so much for its most recent blunder, but for its decades-long condoning of violence and torture while demonizing the unclothed human body and the occasional F-bomb.  Talk about having one’s priorities completely backward.

Luckily, I have the final say in choosing what’s appropriate for my children and what isn’t, and the Internet is an especially helpful tool in this regard.  After reading a parent review on-line, I knew that “The King’s Speech” was going to be fine.  All my children have heard the F-word, but never in a more innocuous manner than that of Colin Firth’s King George VI.   They’ve been exposed to much worse on their daily bus rides to school.

The movie definitely tested my children’s patience, particular my son’s.   “The King’s Speech” is a slow-moving, methodical portrayal of the royal family’s precarious pre-war years, and there’s as much silence in the movie as dialogue.  Regardless, I’m all for testing children’s patience, especially for such a well-done fictionalized version of real events.   The day after viewing the film, my children and I went on youtube to listen to the real speech made by King George VI on September 3, 1939.  Anytime a film inspires inquiries of history, it’s hard to deem it anything other than an unqualified success.

I suspect that just as I recall seeing my first R movie, my children will remember theirs.  And just as “Ordinary People” upset the critical favorite “Raging Bull” for best picture of 1980, “The King’s Speech” could do the same to my favorite film of 2010, “The Social Network.”  It wouldn’t be undeserving.

A Pain Unparalleled - A History of Packer Heartbreaks

You remember.

Oh, you remember alright. 

You remember the Miracle at the Meadowlands on November 19, 1978, which ultimately led to an Eagle record of 9-7, inching out the Packers’ 8-7-1 record and keeping them out of their first playoff since 1972.

You remember the games against the Bears in the 80s.  Take your pick, except from 1989.  William Perry.  Sweetness.  Only we never called him that.  Not back then.

You remember our playoff hopes dying in 1995 as the Vikings whooped the Pack 27-7 on December 27.

You remember Jim McMahon completing a 45-yard pass to Eric Guliford with 6 seconds to play on September 26, 1993, leading to yet another Viking victory over the Packers.

You remember the no-call fumble against the 49ers, followed immediately by the game-ending touchdown pass to Terrell Owens on January 4, 1999.

You remember the loss to Atlanta on January 4, 2003 followed by the loss to the Vikings on January 9, 2005.

And of course you remember the interceptions:

The fourth quarter interception against the Cowboys on January 14, 1996.

Six against the Rams on January 20, 2002.

The overtime interception against the Giants on January 20, 2008, Favre’s last pass as a Packer.

And let’s not even bother to dwell on the fourth and 26 against the Eagles on January 11, 2004.

But as we prepare for the Game of the Century, the matchup we all wanted, let us not forget that a loss to the Bears this weekend will lead not to a wound that merely surpasses those prior heartbreaks, their scars still shiny, a gnawing reminder of what might have been.  No, a loss this weekend will likely lead to an open bloody gash, inoperable, life-threatening, an injury so painful, you’ll be begging for death or for a scalpel to amputate that part of your brain that makes you feel.

On the other hand, the upside is so damn appealing...

I can't wait.  Packers 24.  Bears 13.