 |
| On left front, Wally, Bob, little Jim, big Jim, Pat and Coach Bruce in middle. On left front, Frank, Guy, Chuck, Teresa and Susan. |
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
December 21, 2012 Annual Team Breakfast
What was supposed to have taken place at Uncle Bill's turned out to be a better host site at The Kettle (more space, less noise), site of the annual team breakfast (double click on images below to enlarge):
Thursday, November 15, 2012
November 15, 2012 Magnum Team Breakfast
Pat's birthday was in October and Coach Bruce's in November:
Mystery Picture of Magnum in his youth. Hint: He was not present for the team breakfast:
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Pier to Pier Ocean Swim - August 5, 2012
Swimmers both official and unofficial swimming on August 5, 2012. From left:
Jim Hallett, Julie Biaggi, Don Nelson, Ron Milam, David Milam, Chuck Milam, Teresa McCormick, Tom Bourke, Katay KocsisWooler, Coach Bruce Kocsis, Lee ______ (I need the names of the last two swimmers):
.JPG)
Results from www.surffestival.org:
Rank/# of Swimmers in Age Group Name Time
9 (19) Katay 56:49
7 (60) -wetsuit 18th St. Pod Julie 55:27
10 (26) Teresa 1:08:04
16 (33) 18th St. Pod Alex 54:25
22 (29) Jim 1:16:48
1 (11) Chuck 56:56
4 (11) Tom 1:05.34
41 (80) Wally 1:04:06
15 (27) Helen 1:10.54
78 (90) Peter 1:14:08
62 (90) Randy 1:07:22
18 (61)-wetsuit 18th St. Pod, Don 1:03:45
Fastest 70 yo male in race was 1:07.08
Upon further review of the above swim times, the slow footed booby award
for the slowest club (MCC) swim time is given to Mr. Hallett.
A concerted effort is now underway to prepare Jim for the
3.5 mile Baja-Coronado Island ocean swim on October 13, 2012
Jim Hallett, Julie Biaggi, Don Nelson, Ron Milam, David Milam, Chuck Milam, Teresa McCormick, Tom Bourke, Katay KocsisWooler, Coach Bruce Kocsis, Lee ______ (I need the names of the last two swimmers):
.JPG)
Results from www.surffestival.org:
Rank/# of Swimmers in Age Group Name Time
9 (19) Katay 56:49
7 (60) -wetsuit 18th St. Pod Julie 55:27
10 (26) Teresa 1:08:04
16 (33) 18th St. Pod Alex 54:25
22 (29) Jim 1:16:48
1 (11) Chuck 56:56
4 (11) Tom 1:05.34
41 (80) Wally 1:04:06
15 (27) Helen 1:10.54
78 (90) Peter 1:14:08
62 (90) Randy 1:07:22
18 (61)-wetsuit 18th St. Pod, Don 1:03:45
Fastest 70 yo male in race was 1:07.08
Upon further review of the above swim times, the slow footed booby award
for the slowest club (MCC) swim time is given to Mr. Hallett.
A concerted effort is now underway to prepare Jim for the
3.5 mile Baja-Coronado Island ocean swim on October 13, 2012
 |
Chuck at club with first place medal |
Thursday, August 2, 2012
August 2, 2012 Magnum Team Breakfast
Dr. Susan hosted today's breakfast even though her birthday was in July. Thank you Sue:
 |
| From left: Amanda, Chuck, Jim, Tom, Guy, Coach Bruce, and host Sue |
 |
| From left: Bruce, Bob, Guy, Jim |
 |
| From left: Bruce, Jim, Guy and Chuck |
 |
| Chuck, Bruce, a taller Guy, Rich and Jim |
 |
| The Perfect Moscow Mule: Cock Bull Ginger Beer and Absolute Vanilla Vodka (according to Director of Fun and Games Guy) |
Saturday, July 21, 2012
A Poem from Guy about an old man
We should ask Guy, as Director of fun and games, to rearrange this piece
of work to reflect the effect of time and age on us older swimmers:
When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an
Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any
value.
Later, when the nurses were going through his meagre possessions, They
found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that
copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.
One nurse took her copy to Melbourne .. The old man's sole bequest to
posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines
around the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide
presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.
And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the
author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.
Cranky Old Man.....
What do you see nurses? . . .. . .What do you see?
What are you thinking .. . when you're looking at me?
A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise, Uncertain of habit .. . . .
. .
. .. with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food .. . ... . . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . .'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice . . .the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . .. . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . ... lets you do as you will, With bathing
and feeding . . . .The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?. .Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse .you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still, As I do at
your bidding, .. . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother, Brothers and
sisters .. . . .. . who love one another A young boy of Sixteen . . . ..
with wings on his feet Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . a lover he'll
meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows .. .. .that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . .. . . . . My young now grown fast, Bound to each
other .
. .. With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone, But my woman is
beside me . . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, .. ...Babies play 'round my knee, Again, we know
children . . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future ... . . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing .. . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel.
It's jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles .. .. . grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells, And now and
again .
. . . . my battered heart swells I remember the joys . . . . .. . I
remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years, all too few . . .. gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people .. . . . .. . . open and see.
Not a cranky old man .
Look closer . . . . see .. .. . .. .... . ME!!
Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might
brush aside without looking at the young soul within ... . . .
we will all, one day, be there, too!
The best and most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or
touched.
They must be felt by the heart
of work to reflect the effect of time and age on us older swimmers:
When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an
Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any
value.
Later, when the nurses were going through his meagre possessions, They
found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that
copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.
One nurse took her copy to Melbourne .. The old man's sole bequest to
posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines
around the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide
presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.
And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the
author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.
Cranky Old Man.....
What do you see nurses? . . .. . .What do you see?
What are you thinking .. . when you're looking at me?
A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise, Uncertain of habit .. . . .
. .
. .. with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food .. . ... . . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . .'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice . . .the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . .. . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . ... lets you do as you will, With bathing
and feeding . . . .The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?. .Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse .you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still, As I do at
your bidding, .. . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother, Brothers and
sisters .. . . .. . who love one another A young boy of Sixteen . . . ..
with wings on his feet Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . a lover he'll
meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows .. .. .that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . .. . . . . My young now grown fast, Bound to each
other .
. .. With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone, But my woman is
beside me . . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, .. ...Babies play 'round my knee, Again, we know
children . . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future ... . . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing .. . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel.
It's jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles .. .. . grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells, And now and
again .
. . . . my battered heart swells I remember the joys . . . . .. . I
remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years, all too few . . .. gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people .. . . . .. . . open and see.
Not a cranky old man .
Look closer . . . . see .. .. . .. .... . ME!!
Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might
brush aside without looking at the young soul within ... . . .
we will all, one day, be there, too!
The best and most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or
touched.
They must be felt by the heart
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
