Control That Temper Guys. . .

No matter how upset you might get, rein in that temper, guys. Losing it accomplishes nothing.

With the stress and numerous pressures of the Christmas and Holiday season, not to mention the rest of the year, it's all too easy for tempers to flare and angry words to escape from our mouths before we have had a chance to calm down. So, I'd like to challenge average guys everywhere, who are making the effort to kick up their everyday style several notches, to exercise greater self control -- a concept no one ever seems to mention anymore -- and swallow that anger.

Unkind words and/or physical violence do nothing to solve a problem or help a situation. And most often, you'll succeed only in hurting whatever case you might hope to make. Open any newspaper, or turn on the TV, and you'll see all kinds of daily examples of what has happened when two or more guys have been unable to control their respective tempers. Childish behavior, violence, and all too often injury or even death are the sad result of the failure of many to control their respective tempers. Of course, it is sometimes extremely difficult to do so. I get it. But it's far better, much more adult, and safer to swallow that anger, turn the other cheek, and walk away BEFORE you say or do something foolish.

You will, of course, pardon the overt Christian reference in the preceding sentence, I hope. But it is nevertheless applicable here. Funny. It seems that my latent Episcopalian background comes out in all kinds of unexpected ways. My deceased maternal grandparents and the late Father Cosby would approve.

-- Heinz-Ulrich

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Up North Style. . .

Bad Dad makes a friend. YMP and Bad Dad on the shores of Lake Michigan. Or was that Crystal Lake? The Grand Duchess takes a selfie in her kayak. How NOT to impress the girls sunning themselves along the river. YMP and Bad Dad kayaking on the Platte River headed toward Loon Lake. J ust back from a week in Northern Michigan in a charming and spacious house on the banks of the Betsie River outside of Thompsonville. A largely pleasant seven days despite some challenging episodes with the Young Master, who has picked up some very questionable habits and language from his friends in the 8th Grade during the school year just ended. But otherwise, we enjoyed ourselves and contemplated remaining for a few days longer since the house was available. In the end, we decided to return home as planned originally since neither my wife, nor I wanted to spend the remaining days chained to our computers in Zoom meetings from our vacation destination. I actually managed to leave the laptop and ip

Mid-June Thursday Style. . .

A nother pretty typical variation on the theme for late spring, summer, and very early fall. I'm a huge fan of Madras and have several such shirts in the seasonal rotation. Lightweight, exceedingly comfortable, and even dressy when pressed and tucked in, which is the usual way of things here at Totleigh in the Wold. Now, if I had my druthers, I'd still rather be skiing the trails in the upper half of "The Mitten" (of Michigan), in the Upper Peninsula, or Ontario. But summers ain't so bad either, and I'd look pretty funny walking around in cross-country ski attire during June. -- Heinz-Ulrich

A Lazy Saturday at the End of June. . .

A sleepy first half of the weekend here at Totleigh. Warmer and quite humid ahead of an approaching cool front here in Mid-Michigan. Perfect for yet another pair of chino shorts an a seersucker shirt -- tucked in of course -- with the usual leather deck shoes and ribbon belt. Otherwise, not much accomplished beyond a page or so of writing and monkeying around with audio settings for an upcoming podcast episode. However, I was not completely useless yesterday! I made a huge fruit salad for dinner, which the Grand Duchess and I enjoyed a short while later at the table on the back porch. The Young Master, as is his wont on Saturday evenings, took his dinner on a tray in the TV room upstairs where he whiled away a couple of hours on Flight Simulator, flying some sort of commercial airliner to some destination across the Atlantic or Pacific. I would have loved that sort of technology at about nine or 10 way back during the late 1970s, aka The Stone Age. As it is, my sister and

Classic Style

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