How do you like that, even among misfits, you’re misfits ~ Yukon Cornelius
Happiness is Yukon Cornelius
I love Yukon Cornelius, one of my favorite days on the Appalachian Trail was running into a chubby hiker, with red-hair and beard and when I asked him his trail name, he said Yukon Cornelius!
Yukon Cornelius is the man, I wanted to grow up to be Yukon Cornelius. I originally had the red hair, eventually had the red beard, but I never quite lived up to Yukon! Let’s recount this man’s accomplishments. First, he searched the Yukon eternally in search of gold, and had the ability to taste gold off his axe hitting the ground. Do you know how many Alaskans would kill for that ability? He helped the misfits on the Island of Misfit Toys, he fought a Bumble and won! Then, he made the Bumble his friend. Do you have any idea how much I would love if my one mark on the world was to be the man who found, battled and befriended a Yeti! Quite simply Yukon, is the hero of Rudolph’s story, no Yukon, no Christmas.
Quite simply to hell with Santa, Krampus, the Grinch and even Rudolph himself. Nothing says Christmas like Yukon freakin Cornelius! Although Hermey the Dentist comes pretty damn close.
Grandmothers are a gift not to be taken lightly. So many lose them before they are old enough to know their magic. ~ Nikita Gill
Granny’s Christmas Sugar Kisses
I like Thanksgiving and as a result I have some traditions related to what I do on Thanksgiving, the cooking I do, my annual hike. These all stem from traditions that were built as I was a child related to the holiday.
Christmas, as regular readers will be aware, is not my favorite holiday by a long shot, I downright dislike it. As such, I don’t have a lot of traditions around Christmas, the biggest one I have now is retreating from humanity and spending some alone time in the desert, doing a naked hike weather permitting. There is one tradition the last few years that I have tried to replicate from my childhood. The one thing I could count on every single Christmas for many, many years were Granny’s Christmas cookies. She made several, but there was one that was my favorite, her peanut butter kisses.
I took it for granted for so long that these would always be there every Christmas. My granny made sure, she shipped them to all the far flung places I found myself while she was alive. And after she passed my sister would make them some years and they were good, nostalgic, but not quite the same. Over the last few years I’ve found myself really missing this last piece of my granny.
A little about my granny, she was maybe the most significant person in my life. She’s absolutely the person who is responsible for the person that I am. My granny was the only person I’ve ever known who absolutely had unconditional love for me. She loved me an insane amount, one reason was I was a connection back to her husband, my grandpa POW. He died when I was five years old and I was the only grandchild that had any memory of him, I think that made me a bridge to him for her. My childhood was fucked up and honestly, I should have turned out to be a dangerous psychopath. But what interrupted that path was quite simply my granny’s love. Her constant attention, her constant positivity, her constant compliments. She told me over and over and over that I was smart, good, kind quite simply that I was special. And because she never lied to me, because she was always there for me, I believed her and it’s the reason I possess the self-confidence that I have today. She was my hero.
She was also a Kentucky hillbilly to the core. She grew up literally dirt poor, in a house with dirt floors and no indoor plumbing. If you know granny from the Beverly Hillbillies TV show, you’re not terribly far off from my granny. She was tiny, mighty and ready to rumble to her last day. Hillbillies are the hardest people on Earth to kill, seriously, they’re like cockroaches, you have to drop a bomb on these people. As such she lived til 90, beat cancer and did it all with her own style. The picture I used for the post is my favorite of her, very near the end of her life, I call it her Lou Reed shot.
So missing my granny, and her cookies, like her meatballs before them, I started trying to make them. Years ago I worked out her meatball recipe and now I’m trying to figure out her cookies. Over the last several years I’ve gotten pretty good at making them, but there was always something missing and in my head it was sugar, but it made no sense. I was confused and one year even made them as sugar cookies instead of peanut butter cookies. The texture was right, the taste was not. I’m a cook, not much of a baker but I don’t give up easily. And now, as of yesterday, this Christmas I think I’ve got it. So, I understood the cookie and never did the most basic thing and look at recipes for these cookies, that are typically called peanut butter blossoms. Now, I’m not an idiot, I had looked at a couple of recipes before, but this time I dug in through a bunch of them and one solved the mystery for me, and it was sugar.
You see, after you make the peanut butter batter and roll them into balls, you roll them briefly in sugar and start the baking process. The other piece that I had been missing, I would fully bake the cookies and pull them out, insert the chocolate kisses and that didn’t leave them cracked, a tiny thing but it always bothered me. You see what I was missing, besides the sugar was that you should cook the cookies until about two-minutes short of done, pull them out, place the kisses and finish baking for the last two minutes browning them. The recipe I found specifically mentioned that pressing the kisses in at that point would cause cracks in the cookies, perfection. I’m excited this weekend to make a bunch to take with me into the desert, to sit upon a rock in the setting sun in my favorite spot in the Valley of the Fire, eat a few cookies and think about my granny, merry Christmas to me and a happy day in the desert my friends . ~ Rev Kane
You’re only given a little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it. ~ Robin Williams
Things I’m Thankful for Tonight
Today was a big day, my six month post-surgery appointment, which of course came at seven months post surgery, you have to love American healthcare. If you want to read more about that process, in the categories those posts are under Rev Kane’s Wild Ride. I got up late, was running late, forgot to take my medications, as I got to the floor the nurse was calling my name. Ran in, sat down, got inspected, injected, detected and neglected (IYKYK). Actually, just got weighed and took my blood pressure, 153/90, took if 5 minutes later after sitting there chatting with the nurse, 130/80, doctor came in and took it again 126/70, without medication and that’s damn good news.
It was a really short appointment, my echocardiagram results were really good and she essentially told me she didn’t need to see me for three years and did I have any questions. I had three, first, what type of tissue valve was installed in me, pig or cow. Turns out it’s a bovine valve, so I guess I’ll need to feel a little more guilty when I eat steak. And I was a little bummed, had it been a pig valve it would have meant if I just added a bear claw necklace, I could be man-bear-pig, again (IYKYK).
So I guess I’ll just be little ole me. Question two, is there any reason I can’t scuba dive, she said no. Finally, any reason I can’t jump out of a plane, she said no. Although my research indicates otherwise so I’ll need to dig a little deeper on that one.
I was thinking tonight, with this good news I’d post a little bit about the things I’m grateful for since the surgery. First and foremost, all of the folks who helped out to get me to the hospital, who visited, drove me home and helped me during my recovery, I’ve thanked them each individually but wanted to again publicly, their kindness and generosity blew me away.
I’m grateful for all the little things I do effortlessly that wasn’t the case post surgery. Bending over and not needing a grabber to get things off of the floor. Being able to bench press, even if I can’t do push ups yet, a little frustrating. Being able to easily put on shoes that tie and shirts that don’t button up. Although it’s become such a habit I rarely do, but being able to push up out of a chair using my arms, or coughing or sneezing without having to wrap my arms around my chest. I’m thankful to be on fewer medicines than before the surgery. I’m thankful for having great health insurance, my entire surgical process including my heart cathatarization cost exactly $15.
I’m really thankful that I just finally, nearly, almost feel physically normal and not hesitant to do things like put my pants on standing up for fear of falling and trashing my breast bone. It’s a really good feeling.
This has been a really hard year, I’m thankful it’s almost over. ~ Rev Kane
As anyone who has ever been around a cat for any length of time well knows, cats have enormous patience with the limitations of the human kind. ~ Cleveland Amory
A Happy Holiday Cat Story
So today one of my faculty relayed to me the most amazing happy story. Her mother left Buffalo where she lives to fly to Florida to visit family and I suspect, get out of the New York cold. She brought along Kitty Bear, her beloved 18 year old cat. At the rental car yard the cat escaped it’s carrier and bolted across the lot. She was distraught at losing her cat and searched for her for hours. Even seeing the cat on several occasions but never being able to grab it. Eventually giving up and going to a hotel for the night, she was supposed to be driving and staying three hours away from the airport but stayed in town to continue searching.
She got up the next morning at dawn and returned to the lot and looked for hours not finding her cat. It was at this point she called my faculty, her daughter, and in tears relayed what had happened and that she know had to give up and drive three hours to her hotel. Her daughter, trying to make her mom feel better told her it would be alright, but then got determined and told her, she would find the cat. Her mother, said it’s impossible to do that from California. But her daughter was determined, found her way to a Florida Facebook Lost Kitty page and posted about the cat.
A little while later, someone contacted her, they knew where the cat was, but they didn’t have it. Turned out, she saw the cat on a member restricted cat page on Facebook. She found a way to get my faculty access and she posted out to the page about the cat. A while later, a woman contacted her, she’d found a cat that looked like her cat on a bridge. It was sitting on a piling on the bridge sleeping, one side should it tumble off would be traffic, the other side, the ocean. This woman slipped up on and snatched the cat saving it. Thing is, the cat was 40 miles from the airport, it must have slipped into and then later out of a rental car.
My faculty called her mom, told her that she may have found the cat, told her the story and her mother hung up on her. Ten minutes later her mom called back, she was on the road and heading to get back her cat, even though it wasn’t even confirmed it even was her cat. She got the address and drove to the woman’s house and YES, it was her cat, her cat from Buffalo and it turned out, the woman’s last name was Buffalo. The woman who found the cat, a single mom, ER nurse asked for nothing for returning the cat, but the owner threw money at her for amazingly returning her cat and wished her a very, merry Christmas.
A truly amazing and uplifting story for your holiday season, have a happy day my friends. ~ Rev Kane
Christmas isn’t a season, it’s a feeling. ~ Edna Ferber
Merry Freakin Christmas
So the image above is a perfect image to represent how I feel about Christmas. First, I really don’t like Christmas, this is old territory for long-time blog readers and I apologize for the retread ground. Basically, Christmas for me, is like Christmas for Phoebe Cates’ character in Gremlins. The one where she talks about her father disappearing on Christmas, only to find out that he got stuck in the chimney playing Santa and they found his body a couple of days later. Kind of wrecked the holiday for her. Mine, not so dramatic, but I have honestly had few good Christmases. The root of it for me is this, Christmas is built up as this ideal in your head as a child. Big tree with lights, lots of presents, happy family around the table for Christmas dinner, you know, Hallmark Family Christmas. And of course it always snows Christmas Day.
But like the reality of snow, on TV it’s all pretty fluffy white, but in reality, it’s wet and heavy and shoveling snow is a ton of work. It’s a great way to pull out your back or have a heart attack. Then in a couple of days it’s muddy, nasty slush, mixed with road salt and dog urine. I get that almost no one has the Hallmark Family Christmas, and maybe that image of Christmas was the death of my optimism, the birth of my cynical nature. as I didn’t get the presents I asked for, as I watched drunken family fight and tumble Christmas trees and storm out of Christmas dinner. Christmas for me long ago became the lonely season.
It is the time of year I feel more disconnected from everyone than any other time of year. The early, long, cold dark nights don’t help at all. It’s especially bad if I’m back in upstate New York where I grew up. Driving around there feels like the deepest, darkest cold I can imagine, almost like being alone in outer space, it’s devastating for my psyche. Ironically, I love giving gifts, love making the effort to give someone a gift they truly love, that shows that they mean something to me. Unfortunately, that rarely happens for me. So the holiday is always a mixed bag.
And it’s why the picture above is so perfect for me. The Grinch for the obvious reasons, given my feelings for the holiday I’ve been called a Grinch more than once and it’s a representation I wear well. The other character, if you don’t know, Yukon Cornelius! My favorite character, from my favorite Christmas show, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Even as a little kid, a story full of misfits who hang out with bigfoot (the Bumble) and save the day resonated with me. The Island of Misfit Toys was where I wanted to live because frankly I always knew I was one of them. And Yukon Cornelius cracks me up, I love that character. And, honestly one of my first really great dates as a freshman in college included watching Rudolph, peppermint schnapps and a really amazing peppermint kiss. I often wonder where Kari Lodico is these days, and god I hope she’s well.
During my 20’s and 30’s, my near clinical depression period, Christmas was horrible. It wasn’t until I really figured out how to make Christmas work for me, that it became tolerable. Now, I retreat and embrace my solitary and nomadic nature. I typically retreat to the desert, the last decade or so it’s been the Mojave. Nice warm, sunny, if unfortunately short days, and dark cold nights with skies full of stars above a campfire. I sleep amazingly well in the desert, wake up early, and where I go now, usually to a herd of bighorn sheep walking through my camp. I can avoid people, hike naked in the desert, nap in my hammock in the sun and just be…
This year has been brutal, I haven’t had a vacation in over a year. This year I went through open-heart surgery, my former boss trying to get me fired, my mother’s multiple illnesses and eventual passing last week. It’s been a stressful year like no other and I need some damn downtime. I need to just let go for a bit and be off the grid, I’m looking forward to it like no other year.
The thing is, I know I’m not alone in the way I feel about Christmas. Many, many people suffer this time of year, many more people are alone this time of year than you realize. Many are caught between the desire to be with others and feeling like they just don’t fit when they are, and feel worse with them, than without. So be kind my friends, not because it’s the holiday, but be kind because this time of year so many people are struggling and could use just a little extra grace. So be kind, give them grace and everyone can have happier days. ~ Rev Kane
Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live. ~ Norman Cousins
Sometimes you just go numb
The last two years have been hard. I went from being in a place where I had a planned retirement date, I had a post retirement plan, I was still traveling a little bit, sure my job was killing me, but there was an end date, and I’ve always said you can handle almost anything if you know when it’s going to end.
Then things kind of went upside down. Not Stranger Things upside down, but upside down none-the-less. First, my heart surgery that I thought would be a couple of years off suddenly wasn’t. Then it bounced from on again, off again, on again to delayed and finally to happening. So that meant a year delay in all of my plans, but I could start moving again this fall. So I was just starting to get things moving again and my mom’s illness took a pretty nasty turn, more about this in my last post, Happiness and Loss. So things went on hold again and my mom has passed now, but it’s the holidays and I need to be moving to a job after I retire in order to have insurance, given the horrid state of insurance coverage in this country. And in terms of the higher education hiring cycle November to mid-January is the absolute slowest hiring time of the year. And given issues with the federal government and it’s impact on higher education right now that has tamped down hiring even more than usual.
So the overwhelming thing that I’ve been dealing with is this feeling that I’m stuck in limbo. I’m not happy in my current life situation and I know how to change and improve it, but things just keep sticking me in amber until I can’t move.
The quote at the start of the piece is really meaningful to me, I’m looking at where I currently am, right at this moment as the end of the last chapter. Well, at least after next week when I have my six month post-surgery appointment with my cardiologist. The good news is that she’s already emailed me to tell me the results of all the tests look good, so I believe I’m rightfully optimistic it’s a clean appointment.
So, as I’m resolving my mom’s estate and moving forward with my heart health, it’s time to turn a page.
This is something at times we all have to do, I’ve done it a number of times already. My first chapter was my twisted childhood. Chapter two was leaving for college and becoming an alcoholic and and addict. Chapter three was recovery and depression. Chapter four was adventure and healing. Chapter five was COVID and limbo. Let’s hope Chapter six will be the flight of the Phoenix.
Starting over is never easy, but honestly, it’s always resulted in moving forward. I’ve focused a lot in the past in helping, leading and taking care of others. My sixth and likely final chapter needs to be a bit more selfish. It has to be this way, because at the end of the day we’re always alone, always the only one responsible for our own happiness. Achieving it, often requires hard work and sacrifice, but is almost always worth the effort.
On to Chapter six and no longer feeling numb. ~ Rev Kane
Grief is in two parts. The first is loss. The second is the remaking of life. ~ Anne Roiphe
Happiness and Loss
So, if you’re a regular reader of this blog, first off thank you, you likely have noticed that the posts haven’t been as regular as they usually are lately. For the last few months my mother has been fighting a battle with cancer. Actually, it was her third battle with cancer. She’d asked us not to be public at all with the earlier fights, but over the last four years, she fought lung cancer twice, had a couple of small strokes and finally lost her battle when the cancer spread to her brain. My mother and I had an atypical relationship, in many ways, at a very young age I became her emotional support. I’ve joked often that I’ve been an orphan (parentless) since 1971, even though I had two living parents. My mother did a great job of raising us as kids, she was tough as hell, worked hard as a single mom to make sure we had at least the bare essentials of life. There were times she fell short, sure, no one is perfect. But without her, I would not be where I am today. As such, I swore my mother would never want for anything, I believe I kept that promise. Happily, my mother retained her personality up to the end, wasn’t in pain, and went rather quietly in her sleep.
Loss and grief are crazy things, they dance around and hit when you least expect it, and they hit in ways you don’t expect. But grief can also be a defining point to the end of one chapter in your life, and hopefully the start of a new and happier chapter, let’s hope so.
The header is the nice picture of my mom, I’ve included her obituary below and a picture of her showing her feisty nature, she flipped me off at her 83rd birthday party from her bed at the nursing home. The nicer picture, really maybe the best picture of my mother ever, was shot by my brother.
We are sad to announce the death of our mother, Harriett C Kane of Hudson, NY on December 5, 2025. She passed after a several year battle with cancer. Happily, throughout her extended illness she retained her feisty nature and sense of humor including flipping us the bird on her last birthday.
She was born November 9, 1942 near Cincinnati, OH to Leonard and Harriett Cordato (both now deceased) but lived the majority of her life in and around Hudson, NY. She was the oldest of four children and is survived by her sister Mary and brothers Tony and George.
She worked a number of jobs throughout her life including: as a clerk for the State of New York; several positions for the Grand Union supermarket chain; and as the clerk for the Hudson Police Department where, until her retirement she did her very best to keep the officers and chiefs she worked with in line. The officers of the department were a great comfort to her in retirement and in particular William Osuch who provided her with great support and friendship throughout her illness.
She is survived by William Kane, her former husband who she had a lifelong bond with and remained close with until her death. She was mother to and survived by three children and their spouses, Michael Kane, Maureen Zito (husband, Dino) and Mark Ho-Kane (wife, Doris) and step-mother to Lynn Clark. She was grandmother to six – Molly, Daniel, Mckayla, Ogden, Lucian and Djuna. In her final years, she was greatly supported by the extraordinary efforts of her daughter, Maureen, who was physically nearby to assist her, take her to appointments and provide loving and supportive care.
Per her wishes, there will be no services at this time. Given her lifelong love of animals, in lieu of flowers or cards please either donate to an animal charity of your choice or simply take a long walk in nature and think of her. Per her wishes the family will be spreading her ashes at a later date in a place she dearly loved, Cape Cod. The family wishes to thank the many people who called, sent cards and came to visit her during her illness, it was obvious she touched many people’s lives and will be dearly missed. We would also like to thank the staff at Pine Haven Home for the excellent care they provided during her last weeks.
No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted. ~ Aesop
Level Down Your Kindness
I’ve been quiet on here for a good reason, life has been complex and difficult recently. I was standing in the hall at school this past week and a faculty member I like mentioned he hadn’t seen me in a while and asked if everything was ok. Things most certainly are not ok right now and I proceeded to tell him what was going on with my parent’s health and the whole process of getting everything together as my mother goes through the end of her life. We talked for another minute and I entered the restroom nearby and as I did, a student who must of overheard our conversation came up to me and expressed his sympathy for what was happening with my family and wished me well. This student was an absolute stranger to me and what he did was very kind.
This interaction has had me thinking for days. First, on the level of how kind people can be when you’re going through something significant. Us humans are great at supporting each other when the big things happen. As my mother is dying, my father struggling, when I went through my open heart surgery six months ago, people have been great around all of these things.
The other thought I had though, was how that is completely at odds with how people are on a day to day basis. What I’ve observed over my life is that people seem to have become increasingly self-centered and nearly oblivious to the needs of others. So while it’s great that we are kind to each other when the big things happen, it’s time we all start to level down our kindness. Sure, at the upper level when things are significant we should be kind, but we need to level that down to the more ordinary day to day interactions in life as well. We need to be kinder to each other all of the time. A quote we all know:
Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle ~ Ian MacLaren
The quote sums it up well and there will happier days for all of us if we can be just a little kinder to each other. ~ Rev Kane
If you’re out there can you touch me Can you see me I don’t know If you’re out there can you reach me And lay a flower in the snow
– Robbie Robertson, Fallen Angel
Isn’t the Garden Enough?
Isn’t it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too? ~ Douglas Adams
The Douglas Adams quote above feels particularly relevant to me right now. First, a side note on why I love Douglas Adams so much. He was an individual who was just weird enough, just at enough of a different angle from the the rest of us, that he was able to see us and our behavior in it’s truest form and then promptly, make complete fun of us. But he did it all in the most magnificent and imaginative way. If you have never read the Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy series, you are truly missing out on some of the most imaginatively original literature ever written.
Right now I’m spending a lot of time contemplating life, watching both of your parents decline, both likely soon to be gone, while being six months out from open heart surgery will do that to a boy. And I feel much like the whale from Hitchickers, the whale, snapped into existence, while falling from a great distance, only to work a bit of it out before it goes splat. That’s exactly how I feel right now, like that poor whale, figuring just a few things out, caught in the falling reality of inevitability and obligation and about to hit the ground and go splat!
I’d love to tell you that this situation has given me some sort of new perspective on life, that it’s allowed me as I careen toward the ground to figure things out, it hasn’t. My current situation has left me a zombie, sleep walking through obligation and becoming as numb to everything as I have ever been.
In this darkening fog I have only one piece of advice, the darker and the harder it becomes, the more important it is to bring light and happiness to others. A very simple example from my last week of what I’m talking about. My hotel was across the street from a Cracker Barrel restaurant. I had scanned the menu on line and decided what I wanted to have for dinner so I drove over. It was really cold in NY this last week and I’d decided on a steak and shrimp plate for dinner, but more than that I wanted a salad and I was really excited about a bowl of chicken soup with crackers. One of my absolutely comfort foods and after several days of bureaucracy, paperwork and dealing with my mother’s declining condition, I just wanted a comfortable meal. I went in, the waitress working my section was insanely busy and working hard. When she made her way to me I gave her my order and when I got to the chicken soup she said, “we don’t have it tonight.” I told her she just ruined my night, it was why I was there, and then I laughed and explained it was par for the course the way my week was going. She seemed truly sorry and when my meal came asked if there was anything else I needed and I asked for a couple of pats of butter for my potato. When she came out she dropped an entire bowl of butter pats on my table, giggled and I don’t know why but I found this hysterical and burst out laughing. I also realized in that moment that it was the first time that I laughed in days. I wanted to repay that little kindness and I tipped her $20 and thanked her for giving me a laugh.
The harder it gets for you, the nicer you should be to others. ~ Rev Kane
The real spiritual progress of the aspirant is measured by the extent to which he achieves inner tranquility. ~ Swami Sivananda
In the end, we hope for comfortand peace
At the end of our lives there is not much to hope for, gone is the physicality we counted on for so much of our life. If you live long enough, many of your friends have moved on before you. Your children if you have any, have moved on either geographically or with lives and likely children of their own. No one wants to die, it scares the hell out of all of us. For much of our lives we cling like hell to this existence like a tick on a hound. Watching someone make the transition from hanging on to letting go is difficult when it’s someone close to you.
In the end, what we hope for, for anyone, is that they come to terms with the end, that they in some way, can find peace and comfort in moving on. Not an easy thing for anyone to do but hopefully we all are able to get there and move on easily. I’m in this process right now and comfort and peace is all I can hope for, for them and all of us.
I’m tired, there’s a level of guilt in even having that thought, much less putting it in writing. At a time like this you want to be fully focused on the person going through the process of ending their life. But it is naive to think that there aren’t impacts that ripple out from this event like a rock landing in a pond. We beat ourselves up for considering ourselves and our own needs during these times, but that’s not right, or fair to ourselves. Like they say on the airplane, put your mask on first before you help others.
No matter what you may be dealing with right now, and we’re all dealing with something, never forget that it’s equally important to take care of yourself as well. ~ Rev Kane
The Ministry of Happiness 