Happy anniversary to my best friend! It has been seventeen years of much fun and lots of joy. I love you, Mer!

(Picture from Central Park,New York City)

Dad died on July 14th, after a six-month battle with cancer. Here is the excellent memorial my sister Kelly wrote for Dad.

We lost my dad today. He did not want an obituary, but we wanted to put something in the paper to let the many people who’ve known him over the last 7 and a half decades know. The following is my effort to adhere to his aversion to the orthodox practices surrounding one’s passing and my attempt to capture his unique essence. I hope it brings a smile and a knowing nod to those who knew him and does not offend.
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John Peter Riordan, 75, of East Livermore, left this world on July 14 to join the Great White Buffalo in its happy hunting grounds. Peter was born on April 7, 1940 in the East Livermore home of his late parents, George and Serena Riordan, in sight of the home he later built and in which he resided for the last 26 years of his life.

Peter was a meat and potatoes kind of guy – especially potatoes, a love that was perhaps genetically predetermined by his Irish heritage. As for meat, for him, it came in only two modes – well-done or shoe leather. He appreciated a glass of wine with his meals, but only if the wine came from a box. He was not much for pretensions.

Peter prided himself on being handy and self-sufficient. His years working as a truck driver demanded those skills. No one rivaled him in his ability to string together colorful curse words while working on his truck during the weekends, but he respected that there was a time and place for such language and kept his talents to himself when the occasion demanded it.

As anyone who struck up a conversation with him knew, Peter had strongly-held beliefs, particularly in the matter of politics, and was never afraid to express his views and stand his ground. Those traits may not have served him so well in the Army and he often mused that his penchant for speaking truth to power may have been behind his transfer from the desert of White Sands, New Mexico to the frozen tundra of Fort Churchill, Manitoba. The latter assignment, however, fostered a life-long love for, and appreciation of, polar bears.

Peter’s strong sense of justice was matched only by his willingness to go to court to be vindicated. Notwithstanding frequently being out-lawyered, he never lost a court case because he only chose this route when he knew within his bones that he was right and that he had been wronged. The more esteemed and powerful his opponent, the more he relished his victory. If there is a next life, he’ll undoubtedly be back as a lawyer who is focused solely on fighting for the underdog..

His mother frequently observed, “One drop of Riordan blood spoils generations.” It is clear that Peter’s stubbornness, love of an argument in the pursuit of justice, and fair complexion live on in the two generations which survive him. They are proud to be so “spoiled.”

He is survived by his wife of 33 years, Kellee, his daughter, Kelly Horwitz, his sons, Shannon, Matthew and Jeremy, his grandchildren, Samantha and Isaac Horwitz, his brother, O’Brien, his sisters, Rose Orcutt and Rita Mynahan, and many nieces and nephews.

He was predeceased by his parents, George and Serena, his brothers Joseph, James, Patrick and Hugh, his sister, Jane, and his beloved St. Bernard dog, Dudley.

Per his request, there will be no funeral services. His remains will be interred with Dudley in the family cemetery he built overlooking the home where he was born.

Those who wish to honor him are asked to raise a glass of boxed wine or Bailey’s Irish cream and do something for the underdog.

Somehow, shockingly, it has been six weeks since we got home from Europe. I’m never sure how and why I let  my little blog languish, but life seems to get busy and I lose track of time and ye olde blog. I wanted to jot down a few final thoughts about our trip that may not have made it into the daily entries.

– Our little “Fabio” – The little red car we rented was a great little car. Clean-burning diesel cars are common in Europe, and I have found them to be efficient and to have decent power. Our rental car was a Skoda, which is made in the Czech Republic, and since our model was called a Fabia, Mer took to calling the car “Fabio.” The car could get 500 to 600 miles off of a tank of fuel, and the rental on the car was only $250, which included special insurance to drive in Bosnia, which is required since Bosnia is not yet in the EU.

– Tattoos – I’m always interested in obvious differences between America and Europe, and at least in Eastern Europe, the tattoo fad has not taken off like it has in the under-30 set here in the States. I saw a few tats on young people, but it was far from common.

– Nice people – In almost two weeks of being in Croatia, Slovenia, and Bosnia, I can’t remember running into a rude person. The people we met were all friendly and helpful, culminating in the amazing man who stopped his car to help us in Sarajevo.

– Pedestrian zones – One of the things I love about European cities are the pedestrian zones. I love how people come out to people-friendly streets and eat and visit and people watch. We visited the pedestrian-only zone of Zagreb on both ends of the trip, and it was a marvelous way to see Croatians milling around. We do have a few such areas in the U.S., but they do not seem as central to urban life here as they do in Europe, and I think that is to our loss.

– Natural beauty – Mer and I have become unofficial parts of the Balkan tourist board. We enthusiastically pitch the beauty of Slovenia and Croatia to anyone unfortunate enough to ask. We also liked what we saw of Bosnia, but we were only in Bosnia for about twenty-four hours, so we temper our advice there. Slovenia especially struck me with its amazing beauty, which is all crammed into a very tiny country. It has rivers, lakes, mountains, a pretty-looking capital (that we did not get to, sadly), and even a small stretch of scenic coastline, and all in a country that can be driven across in just a few hours. Big thumbs up to Slovenia and Croatia, each of which could easily demand two week of touring.

– Mer’s mantra for touring, “Everything is either a good experience or a good story”, is a great way to travel. That typically got shortened to simply, “Adventure!” whenever we hit snags or difficulties.

– That about wraps it up. Many thanks to Meredith, who is the driving force (and forward looking money manager) behind our trips to Europe. Here is looking forward to more adventures!