The Garlic Guy is Gone, Farmers' Market Loses Another Old-Timer

He made much more of a splash, both figuratively and literally, in death than he did in life. Until I saw his obituary in the Sunday paper, I did not make the connection between the person who died on his ice boat on Lake Monona and the long-time vendor of braided strings of garlic at the Madison Farmers' Market.

William "Tad" Gedko was both the guy at the Farmers' Market, whose name I never knew, but from whom I yearly bought a long string of garlic heads to hang in the kitchen; and the avid sailor and ice boater who apparently died of a heart attack before his ice boat went through thin ice leaving his body far from shore on the only partially frozen Lake Monona. A much-publicized rescue attempt ensued, causing Tad to finally get his fifteen minutes of fame, a bit too late for him to enjoy it.

Thanks for all the great garlic Tad, sorry I won't be seeing you on the west side of the square, selling it, any more.

No more Big Cheesies?

Another main-stay of downtown Madison has passed from the scene. Miles Allen, owner/operator of Myles' Teddie Wedgers at the corner of State Street and the Square died of cancer on Friday. He was 64 years old and preparing to retire, according to reports.

My addiction to teddie wedgers is well know within my family. It is an addiction I have passed down to the next generation. Please, please let there be a Myles Junior to carry on!

I apologize to my one follower and any other random readers for turning this blog into an obituary column, but I guess I've reached that age at which my friends and acquaintances are dropping like flies!

Poor Miles! Another case of a man who works hard his whole life and dies in his early to mid 60's before collecting a penny of Social Security. How can the Social Security Trust Fund be going broke when so many men die of heart attacks, cancer and the like in their early to mid 60's without collecting a dime?

Hippies?

Mary Travers, of Peter, Paul and Mary, died September 16th (of leukemia). When they announced her passing on Yahoo, they ran this photo.



Yes, that is Bob Dylan and Stevie Wonder performing with Peter, Paul and Mary! The photo is from a concert in the 1980's.

I have been a Peter, Paul and Mary fan for as long as I can remember, so I decided to download the photo and put it on my computer desktop for a few days. That's when I discovered that the name of the JPEG file containing it was hippies.jpg . I was shocked!

I believe that all five of these folks predate the hippie movement. Stevie Wonder got his first national exposure in the "beach party" movies of the early '60's. Peter, Paul and Mary were folk singers; I'm not sure their early hits were even considered Rock-and-Roll at the time. And Bob Dylan certainly got his start in folk music before crossing over to Rock. He notably caused a stir the first time he put down his acoustic guitar and picked up an electric one.

So, where do they get off calling these people hippies? What do you think?

Warning: H1N1 can sneak up on you!

I just lost a friend to complications of H1N1 flu. He was a great guy, a musician, a good friend to all who knew him. But he also drank too much and didn't take very good care of himself. I guess because he had always been a big, strong guy whose body was able to endure the abuse.

Well he got the flu and a high fever. He rested and did the right things for a couple days and when he started to feel a bit better he went back to hydrating himself with beer rather than juice and toughing it out. That's when it got him, H1N1.

He thought it was done with him and it wasn't. He died of severe dehydration and possibly a secondary infection.

So, heed this warning. Don't mess with H1N1, follow the advice of the health care professionals. Get plenty of rest and hydrate yourself well, with juice not beer!

Goodby Che!

Che was my dog and constant companion for nearly 12 years. He was mostly black lab, though he had just enough spaniel in his background to be a pointer. He was also a gun dog to the point that we had to worry about him walking right out in front of the target when practicing with rifles.

But Che never became a hunting dog since I'm a suburb dweller and have done no hunting since I left the farm to go to college. We got him as a puppy from a coworker who had more puppies than homes for them. He was selected on the basis of being the friendliest (and chunkiest) of his litter.

We named him Azabache, after a dog who is a family legend because he gave his life to save my father-in-law from a poisonous snake. Then we shortened it to Che because you just can't go around calling a dog by a 3-syllable name for 12 years.

Che was the stubbornest, most headstrong animal I've ever been around. He was very strong physically, with a broad chest and muscular build - weighing about 100 pounds in his prime. We had to get a harness instead of a collar for walking him since he would pull against the leash to the point he might have strangled himself.

He was also the most loving and lovable pet any of us had ever known. He was so attached to his human pack that as a puppy he would punish us for leaving him alone by destroying things. Eventually we figured out that leaving a radio on would trick him into thinking he was not alone. His favorite station was always WPR News and Classical Music. Even in the last couple years, when his arthritis made it painful for him to get around, he always greeted each member of the pack with puppy-like enthusiasm upon our return.

Che was an ideal watch dog. He took his job of protecting family and property very seriously, patrolling the house at night and barking with a deep base tone bark at any perceived threat. I'm sure anyone hearing his bark, or seeing his apparently angry look through a window was appropriately intimidated. Little did they know that the only real danger they were in was that of being licked and slobbered to death by this big friendly guy!

Eventually, Che's arthritis got so bad that we had to have him put down. But not without a fight. I kept him going, probably an extra year, by giving him aspirin and glucosamine every day (The same treatment I take!). So, I miss you Che. We were best buddies and I don't ever expect to find another like you.

New puppy and a fox den in the neighborhood

I have finally added a photo to this blog. I suspect nobody cares very much what I look like, but we have a new puppy in the house and he is just incredibly cute, as you can see.

We got the puppy through a local Humane Society, so nobody knows for sure, but our best guess is that he is half German Shepard and half Chou. He is an incredibly quick and playful guy, full of spit and vinegar as you would expect a puppy to be.

But, what leads into the second part of my story is the fact that his primary color is a reddish brown (that looks more reddish than brown in bright sunlight!) and he has a face that looks very much like a fox. So, our family joke is that he is just an extra fuzzy, extra chunky fox that somehow was mistaken for a dog, captured and dropped off at the Humane Society.

I've previously written here about seeing a fox in my back yard, and since the arrival of the puppy, my dog walker (a family member) has been reporting that he frequently sees a fox while walking the puppy and that the fox seems fascinated by the puppy to the point that it will follow along at a distance observing the puppy.

Yesterday I was walking the puppy myself when my companion said, "Look at the cats, somebody must have dumped a litter of kittens!" At first glance I decided the animals in question were too big to be domestic cats. After a second look I realized they were young foxes!

The three fox cubs were standing on a mound of dirt which I soon realized was their den. Apparently their fascination with my puppy had overcome their natural wariness. They stared at him until the next house blocked their view.

I would not have expected foxes to have a den in a relatively open spot in the midst of a suburban subdivision, but they do! This does help explain why I have not seen nearly as many rabbits and chipmunks in my back yard as I normally do this time of year.

Where's Obama?

Where's Obama? This is what a youngster said to first lady Michele Obama on the T.V. news cast. It was just so cute to see an obviously unrehearsed moment like that. A cute kid obviously just a bit disappointed that the president hadn't come along with his wife to visit his class.

I'm still getting used to having a president and first family who seem like real people, instead of just rich people trying (at times) to act like real people. President Obama actually said, "I screwed up." In eight years we never heard a similar admission from George W. Bush.

And how about those House Republicans? While three Senate Republicans managed to get several billion dollars of changes to the stimulus package in exchange for their votes, the entire Republican contingent in the House did the "Just say no" thing. Here in Wisconsin, I guess, we are used to having the Republicans be nothing more than obstructionists, but still!

There is a line in Dante's Inferno that I can't quite quote right, but it is something to the effect that the hottest circles of Hell are reserved for those folks who in time of great crisis did not do anything! Throw the bums out, I say. When the country is going to Hell in a hand basket, it is better to do something than to do nothing. I hope other voters remember this, I will!

I'm old enough to also remember "do something" Republicans in Wisconsin, such as Governor Warren Knowles and State Senator Walter John Chilsen. Though I often disagreed with him, Governor Tommy Thompson was also a doer. Who needs these folks who just know how to say no to everybody else's ideas, but have none of their own!