Book of Jamez

55 y/o malcontent, something of a writer

Category: Jamez

  • If Nothing Changes, Nothing Changes

    In spite of knowing better and having lived in a home where I was fed real meals with meats, vegetables, milk and bread and butter – when I finally lived on my own my main meal almost every day was an entire sausage and pepperoni pizza. A standard 12 inch Tombstone or Roma’s pizza, cooked in the oven for 18 minutes until golden brown on top.  Not that I didn’t eat other things, I did. Like bowls of cereal, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, burgers from a burger joint (and later in life steaks from a restaurant) or if I got to Ma’s for dinner or lunch whatever she would happen to be cooking if I liked it.  Ask anyone who knows me pretty well – I’m a picky eater. I don’t like sauces and dressings generally and am not a big fan of cooked vegetables.

    Despite my careless eating habits and lack of physical exertion, I never really got big or chunky (well there was the first summer at Ma and Pa’s where I put on a belly but it didn’t take) and I could have probably fit into the same pants that I wore when I was 16 at 24.

    Then in 2005 I did two things that changed all that

    1. I quit smoking
    2. I went back to school for a year

    Suddenly I was twenty (20) pounds heavier and my pants and shirts were tight. Worst of all? the start of man boobs, moobies as some like to call them. I haven’t needed a manzier, but I could see they were threatening to become a little more than I was interested in having. Moobies are something I don’t find attractive on men and it would be silly of me to have something that I didn’t like seeing on others you know.

    When I was in school (and sometimes on weekends within the last few years) there were days when I’d start the day with coffee a bowl of cereal and a couple hours later have a pizza for lunch, followed sometimes by a pizza for dinner. I’d follow that up with day long World of Warcraft marathons only moving from the computer to grab water or a snack (candy, ice cream, cereal).

    One Tombstone pepperoni and sausage pizza has the following Nutritional “value”:

    Amount Per Serving                         
    Calories 1635                                    Calories from Fat 736
                                                                  Percent Daily Value*
    Total Fat 81.7g                                  126%
    Saturated Fat 30.4g                          152%
    Cholesterol 156mg                             52%
    Sodium 3944mg                                164%
    Total Carbohydrates 152.9g            51%
    Dietary Fiber 10.6g                            42%
    Protein 71.8g                                       42%
    Vitamin A                                             36%
    Calcium                                                 89%
    *Based on a 2000 Calorie Diet

    Two of those pizzas a day was a lot of bad, especially when you think that I wasn’t doing anything to counter act all the bad that was there.

    So in the working world life changed a little bit. I’d start out the day with coffee and cereal, get to the 7-11 by the office grab two cinnamon twists and two bottles of chocolate milk and maybe a candy bar, then eat burger or pizza or fast food of some kind with the boss before heading home where for dinner I’d have a pizza and a bowl of ice cream – and sometimes finish the night with a bowl of cereal.  Every day pretty much, unless the housemate was cooking dinner then I’d eat whatever that might be (poor guy’s a great cook, but is limited to cook what I’ll actually eat).

    Besides the slowly growing moobies – the waistline kept expanding, the belly seemed to protrude a bit more than I’d like and the cholesterol has been high for probably a decade now. My biological parents were both heavy (Phillip was a football player in high school and Cheryl had my eating habits and aversion to exercise) so deep down in my mind I think I’m destined to be bigger. Suddenly the twenty pounds heavier was 35, 36 and 37…

    If Nothing Changes, Nothing Changes… So what changed. Hell I don’t know…. oh I remember… I was having issues pooping – yes, too much information I know… and the doctor suggested I try to eat more fiber and I actually LIKE my doctor so I started to read about fiber and started to make minor changes in my diet.

    Every morning now the bowl of cereal is raisin bran (lots of fiber). Instead of the donuts and chocolate milk from the 7-11 it’s two bottles of orange juice and sunflower seeds and almonds. Tried to get the housemate to include vegetables that I like in meals he cooks (corn, green beans, peas, broccoli, cauliflower). Sometimes dinner is a bowl of raisin bran and a handful of nuts. And every night I try to eat an apple.  That’s a lot of change for me and my diet let me tell you – and I’m not perfect at it and sometimes I’ll still have a burger or yes, a pizza… hush, I said I wasn’t perfect.

    So slowly my body started to change, but not fast enough so I spent a little cash on a personal trainer and things got a little faster, but not super speed. Apparently dieting and exercise isn’t instant – who knew? The personal trainer and I are doing a lot of things that will never be useful in the real world – push ups, pull ups, lifting weights, curls, this that – but it’s certainly made my arms and chest a little firmer. I’ve also noticed that my nipples are kind of going off to the side now – which I think is really weird – shouldn’t these things point out front? I’ll have to ask someone who knows more than I know about these kinds of things.

    Throw in some cardio classes, keep walking about a mile and a half a day, and up with the fiber and healthier foods and we’ll see what happens to me. It’s not something I had planned on doing and I don’t know how it’ll all work out (the first week back to the gym I hurt my leg and was on crutches for a week – still hurts every now and then too) but it’s probably a step in the right direction.

  • Wasted Youth

    If memory serves I had a physical education class every year in grade school and high school. I was usually the last one picked for teams, which bothered me mostly because we all knew I’d be picked last but it still took a long time to get through all the other loser kids getting picked at the same time. It didn’t really matter, the truth was I wasn’t any good at it, didn’t matter what it was i sucked. The other kids knew it, I knew it and even the coaches knew it – yet I was still required to have that class – I couldn’t tell you what kind of grade I ever got in it, but I know it wasn’t a good grade (I know as most of my grades in school weren’t good).

    Once in grade school I recall one of the leaders who tried to make use of that by making a play where i would catch the ball – I was never covered by the opposing team it would be a huge waste, no one in their right mind would be throwing a ball to me, but this one kid planned it and I halfheartedly was excited to participate – this play would have won us the game. But as these kinds of things go – I was unable to catch the ball, imagine that and therefore we lost and once again I had managed to not be of any help to my classmates. Not once in the remaining years of school was I part of a plan to win, just didn’t happen.

    In high school gym became less of an annoyance as we sometimes were able to choose which activities we wanted to participate in and honestly because some times it was better to not really participate but be stoned while all the other kids did partake in sports. My friend Ted and I used to walk during “Track and Field” and smoke our cigarettes as we did, it wasn’t really something that interested us.

    Some of the many activities that I was required to participate in included:

    • basketball
    • softball
    • track and field
    • curling
    • wrestling
    • flag or touch football
    • tennis
    • golf
    • gymnastics

    There were times in Phys Ed that I had to climb a rope, do somersaults, or head stands and the rope thing was usually done with every other kid watching and giggling or snickering. I don’t recall many of the kids being able to climb that rope well or even doing push ups well, but that could be me not really caring too. Phys Ed was really not a class I had any fun in at all – recess was sometimes even a challenge to find something I cared about doing – usually my imagination had me doing something or pretending to be a superhero – kickball, tag, or monkey bars really didn’t do it for me.

    I know these things were meant to encourage me to be more active, to see if I had interest in sports or hidden talents so the school could get more money if I was a star or something. But honestly I’ve never had a job interview where standing on my head, or climbing a rope was a pre-requisite. No one in my adult life has seriously wondered if I knew anything about curling that wasn’t talking about hair. Yes, if a zombie apocalypse happens I’ll have to avoid those creatures so they wont eat my brains, but have you seen these things move? I’m sure I can out walk em and if necessary run.

    So here I am, 40, and I still don’t find any enjoyment in any of these activities (well maybe wrestling, but that’s only under certain circumstances you know). I don’t feel the urge to watch, participate or even care about these types of activities. The personal trainer I’m seeing at the gym (yes, I know how ironic that seems) keeps telling me that these things were doing are going to make me really strong – but honestly how often am I going to need to arm wrestle myself out of a situation? Is there really going to be a need for a pull up in my future?

    I’ve come to the conclusion that exercise is a lot like math, one of those things that is mandatory learning but not something you’ll ever use in everyday life. I also think that the studies that say exercise makes you feel better are flawed, or perhaps the people who feel better after exercising have a different genetic makeup than the rest of us. I’ve got 5 more weeks of personal training, and it’s possible that I’ll change my mind, but I don’t think it’s likely.

  • What if everything changed?

    The boss is talking retirement, the roommate (landlord) is talking about moving (once his Mom passes on) – well so what? Love my boss and my roommate, consider them family, but I’m ready to go too.

    It would actually be a pretty cool thing if these two things happened in conjunction and it forced me to change too. It would force me to look at my life as it stands now and see what I’d like to do with the rest of it – however long that may be.

    With the whole world out there and I can choose to do anything I want, that seems pretty exciting doesn’t it? Warmer climate? school? menial labor? sure I don’t care any of those would be fine

     

  • I thought it was the end of the world – I was right

    Like most of America I watched the twin towers fall on TV and the internet – living and working in Washington DC I also had a rare experience of being amidst the chaos that erupted in DC and seeing a thick column of smoke billowing from the site of the attack on the Pentagon. At the time I worked on the 6th floor of Children’s National Medical Center and we had a clear view of the smoke at the Pentagon from our windows.

    There was an overwhelming sense of fear and uncertainty, a feeling that this was the beginning of something that would change, if not end, the world. In my minds eye I could see the US retaliating against whomever it was and it leading to global destruction. I thought for sure the end of the world was right around the corner, and it turns out I was right.

    After the attacks on the US our country was encompassed in fear. We were afraid to laugh, afraid to hope, afraid to dream. It was quite a few months before we were confident enough to fly again and even then fear was encouraged by security at airports that grabbed the elderly and toddlers searching them for terrorist devices. Politicians, churches, and pundits of many fields all fueled speculation of worst case scenarios that would lead to the total destruction of our way of life.

    I know that Freedom isn’t free (I know because I’ve read the military families bumper stickers) but it certainly shouldn’t be driven by fear and that’s what I think we have now – people so afraid of the unknown they want to go back in time to a US that was less free, a US that was full of distrust and discrimination, a US that we’ve outgrown.

    Freedom is not a natural byproduct of fear.

    Since 9/11 there have been few moments when the world came together and believed in a better tommorow – the first time was right after the attacks when the whole world mourned with us and the second was when the whole world cheered when Barack Obama was elected as President of the United States. As a nation we’ve squandered away the better parts of these moments of hope, we’ve allowed war to encompass our plans for the future, we’ve allowed McCarthy like politicians stop progress, we’ve allowed FEAR to guide us.

    Is there still a chance that we can live again on the dream of a better tomorrow? Yes, but that means today we have to stand up and face the fears. No longer can we sit idly by and watch the politicians cater to the rich, no longer can we allow our own infrastructure to collapse while re-building other nations, no longer is it “somebody elses problem”.

    Want the loss of life from September 11 to mean something? Want to believe again in a land of the free and a home of the brave? Face the fear, don’t believe the lies, learn a little about the politicians and talk show hosts you so blindly follow. Be the change – such a cliche but one that needs to be said today, tomorrow and forever more.

    We lost a lot ten years ago maybe it’s time we took it back.

  • I can feel them downstairs…

    I can feel them downstairs.

    I know they are rifling through the papers on the end table, planting listening devices in the phone and drugging the milk. They are there every night and every night its the same, I pretend I can’t feel them and hear them whispering. The whispers are the worst I can almost make out what their saying and it makes my skin crawl when I get so close to interpreting the words but then realize it’s gobbledygook.

    I think the cat knows they’re there too, sometimes she’ll glance sharply over at the stair case, eyes wide sparkling her dangerous green. I wonder if they’ve been here long enough for her to be used to them, perhaps they’ve even pet her when I’m asleep – I know they do other things, but can the cat tolerate them – whatever they are? I hope she’ll be like an early warning system for me, if she jumps off the bed and heads to a hole I may have a chance to defend myself, I might even have a chance to run – if they let me.

    Sometimes I awaken from a deep sleep and know one of them is standing over me. I lay perfectly still  – if they know I know they are there they would be more likely to hurt me or something – its the something that is the most frightening, trying to figure out what they want with me. After a while when I can hear their heartbeat, almost feel their breath on my face I cannot stand it anymore, sometimes I moan or yawn and very slowly roll over on my side  and as much as I want to I don’t breathe a heavy sigh of relief, I just freeze like that. One of two things usually happens, if I’m lucky I just pass out from exhaustion if I’m not I can lie there all night wondering when they’ll leave me alone or if this is the night they take me.

    I somehow know they want to take me, I can feel it in my soul a deep need for them to take me with them wherever it is that they go and I know that would be a bad thing for me, the worst thing I’m fairly certain.

    I can feel one behind me as I write this. I can’t see his reflection in the screen but I can feel him standing in the doorway and I know he can read all of this. That frightens part of me and relieves the other part – perhaps the fear can end it’s the anticipation and not knowing that are the worst for me. Not knowing what they’re looking for, when they will take me and especially how much it will hurt.

    Tonight when I turn off the light and pull the sheet over me I know I’ll hear them again downstairs – a scritch scratch of papers moving here and there, a creak in the floor board and like I heard the other night a foot step or two on the stair.

    I can feel them downstairs…

  • Hobbling Around

    I made a decision to try to get back to the gym. I hate the gym, really not a fan at all, but I was giving it a shot anyway. I enrolled at Vida and the membership started August 1.

    Monday I started my new routine by going to Spinning Class which was hard, but it was day one and I know it gets better with practice and routine. I still managed to strain my right knee and for the rest of the day and half of Tuesday I was kind of limping around.

    Wednesday morning I thought I would try Step class as I really don’t mind that or spinning so much. The class attendance was small – just three of us, I guess maybe people don’t like Step anymore or like other things more. We had just gotten started, I stepped up and down numerous times and had my knee up a repetitively here and there.

    As I stepped down from a step to the left I knew I had stepped wrong and I heard/felt a “pop/snap” and knew that was going to hurt. I tried to stretch it out but I couldn’t and hobbled my way home. At home I called in sick, iced and raised my leg and just sat there mostly. It’s hard to do much of anything hopping around on one leg.

    Thursday came and it was still pretty painful to walk on it, but I took a cab to work anyway. At the office the boss and other folks convinced me to see a doctor – I’m stubborn and hate going to the doc. I saw a doctor at around 3:30 and he said I’d likely strained my gastrocnemius muscle. Yes, it sounds like a stomach thing but it’s really a leg thing.

    From Wiki:

    In humans, the gastrocnemius (pronounced /ˌɡæstrɒkˈniːmiəs/ or /ˌɡæstrəˈniːmiəs/) muscle, meaning ‘stomach of leg’ (modernLatin, from Greekγαστήρ (gaster) ‘stomach’ and knēmē ‘leg’, referring to the bulging shape of the calf), is a very powerful superficial pennate muscle that is in the back part of the lower leg. It runs from its two heads just above the knee to the heel, and is involved in standing, walking, running and jumping. Along with the soleus muscle it forms the calf muscle. Its function is plantar flexing the foot at the ankle joint and flexing the leg at the knee joint. In a 1967 EMG study, Herman and Bragin concluded that its most important role was plantar flexing in large contractions and in rapid development of tension.

    The gastrocnemius is located with the soleus in the posterior (back) compartment of the leg. The Lateral Head originates from the Lateral Condyle of the femur, while the Medial Head originates from the Medial Condyle of the femur. Its other end forms a common tendon with the soleus muscle; this tendon is known as the calcaneal tendon or Achilles Tendon and inserts onto the posterior surface of the calcaneus, or mountain bone.

    Deep to the gastrocnemius (farther from the skin) is the soleus muscle. Some anatomists consider both to be a single muscle, thetriceps surae. The plantaris muscle and a portion of its tendon run between the two muscles, which is involved in “locking” the knee from the standing and posterior tibial vein and the tibial nerve. Since the anterior compartment of the leg is lateral to the tibia, the bulge of muscle medial to the tibia on the anterior side is actually the posterior compartment. The soleus is superficial midshaft of the tibia. Frequently there is a sesamoid bone called the “fabella” in the lateral head of gastrocnemius muscle.

    So they gave me crutches and I was wheeled out in a wheelchair to the taxi stand where I took one of those home.

    Friday I had a pre-scheduled eye exam as I had broken my glasses during a recent trip to Wisconsin. Gary was kind enough to drive me there and after my appointment I was wheeled to the Metro. I applaud Kaiser for having people available to wheel the mobility challenged to and from public transportation.

    What I found once I got on the Metro to work was that Metro didn’t plan ahead for people who are mobility challenged. The accessible entrance (elevator) for Union Station was at the very end of the platform and the one at Takoma was in the middle of the platform. As I thought about the different stations that I usually use I can recall some that are at the complete opposite end and some staggered along. This makes hobbling along on crutches or rolling along in your wheelchair harder than it has to be. Fortunately for me I wont have to go to the office on until Thursday and can avoid the pitfalls of Metro’s broken escalators, elevators and long distances between elevators.

    I also thought about my meetings and the long staircases that I would have to climb to go to my regular meetings and I just don’t see it happening. I’m going to pop in a few AA speaker CD’s and soak in what I can and make other arrangements with my sponsee so I can avoid his stairway too.

    Anyway, I should only be hobbling around for a week or so and I hope to be traversing DC’s sidewalks like the streetwalker I am before you know it. 😉

  • Too Long Gone

    God I really think I spent too much time in WI recently, Mouse (the cat) would agree with that statement. It’s just really nice to be home in my own bed, with my own shower. *contented sigh*

    Even though I had been in WI only three days before (for a funeral) on Friday I found myself flying back again for my summer trip. Let me tell you the cat was not happy when I pulled out the suitcase again so early after I had put it away – I was scowled at the whole time I packed.

    Big Dreams
    Charlie ready for races

    I had a rather uneventful flight to Minneapolis on Delta followed by a 2 hour van ride to Eau Claire where Pat and Brenda picked me up and drove me to the Eau Claire airport to pick up a rental car… yes, I know that seems silly. I immediately drove to the local Taco John’s and had three soft shell tacos then called Ma and told her I was on my way to Galesville – she let me know supper would be ready about the time I got there… ooops. I arrived home and everyone was there already: Ma, Rhonda, Ken, Uncle Rick, Sheila, Michael, Cory, Danielle and of course my grand nephew Charlie.

    I had a nice weekend at Ma’s that included seeing two old friends from the area that I hadn’t seen in person in over twenty years. I also spent good quality time with everyone at the Trempealeau County Fair Demolition Derby where Michael ran two vehicles in two heats and Cory was there in his capacity of volunteer fireman. Luckily it had cooled off for the demos as it had been pretty hot during the day Saturday.

    Here are a couple videos from the Demolition Derbys:

    The above is from the Lawn Mower Demos – which was too funny

    The above is my nephew Michael in the 85 truck at the Demos

    My Nephew Cory
    My Nephew Cory the Fireman

    As redneck and hick as it seems, I actually enjoyed myself at the demos… don’t tell anyone.

    Tuesday I left Ma’s and spent most of the day with Dawn, Ryan and Amy at Amy’s house. We ate, played games, reminisced and generally had a good time. That night I drove Ryan to Eau Claire before checking into my hotel for the night.

    Wednesday the highlight of the day was seeing Captain America with Pat. We both really liked it especially after the credits. I think it was the best superhero movie of the year even though it was the least appealing to me in the previews.

    Thursday included a Big Book meeting thankfully… I needed that.

    Friday was the first day of the Chippewa Valley Roundup and we heard a good speaker from Anchorage Alaska who kept us entertained while he shared his experience strength and hope. It was also great to see all the Eau Claire Pacific Group folks that I don’t usually get to see too often.

    Saturday I spent the morning with my friend Tina at the spa, each of us received wonderful treatments and then we went off to lunch. Spending time with Tina is always nice, she helps me keep things in perspective. That night we were off to the Round Up again for another speaker and more fellowship. We were also shown a skit before the speaker that was based on CSI that had a few of my friends in it – rather funny stuff.

    Sunday was there before you knew it and we (Pat, Brenda and I) had breakfast with Sammantha before they drove me to the airport and bid me adieu. I arrived there so early that I managed to get a pedicure in the new mini spa that opened up there… that was nice.

    Arriving home on Sunday night was nice…. Home, really happy to be there.

  • Summer Funeral

    So Grandma passed away on Monday the 11th and I flew home on Wednesday before in case the service was Thursday or Friday and stayed for the weekend. I rented a car from the Minneapolis airport and found myself in line behind the Stockholm Sweden girls team – NO I didn’t take pictures, they were just taking a long time, and no I don’t know what sport, just that they were annoyingly slow in my way. I drove from the airport directly to the most important destination – Taco Johns. Partly because I don’t know how to get to my friends house unless I go through Eau Claire and party cause I love Taco John’s tacos. I think I arrived at Pat and Brenda’s about 10:00 Wednesday night.

    Thursday morning both Pat and Brenda had departed for work and I paid attention to their two dogs before going to Taco Johns for an early lunch. After lunch I walked around downtown Eau Claire, taking photos and doing some shopping, then I stopped for an hour and got a new tattoo on my back (much cheaper in Eau Claire than it is in DC) that says “ZEUS”.

    Then I went to JC Penny’s where I briefly pretended to be interested in window dressings so I could visit with my niece Samantha – always great to see the nieces. Then I went off to Macy’s to do a bit of shopping and found a LOVELY woman, Trudy, who was both entertaining and helpful there. Trudy was one day shy of working at that store for twenty years, and was simply amazing – she sized me up just by looking at me and was pulling out shirts, jackets and slacks faster than I could react. Good customer service and a very nice person.

    Then I headed back to Chippewa Falls to get ready before the Big Meeting – real AA, not that watered down stuff I see here in DC. I was called up during the meeting to share some experience strength and hope as were a few others – my friend Nicholas joked that I must have been the token female called up as everyone was a guy that shared. After the meeting a bunch of guys headed to Perkins, I tagged along and had a bite as well – it’s a nice bit of fellowship.

    Friday I had lunch with a new friend, Jimmy, before heading down to Whitehall for the funeral. It rained most of the day and when I left Eau Claire it was coming down pretty hard. Whitehall is my old stomping grounds, where I attended most of my grade school years and several of my drinking years – it’s always nice to go back and visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there again. I found the Baptist Church easily enough – I don’t even remember us having one back when I was a kid, but there it was right in the back yard of a house where my ex-fiance and my biological father once lived (stories for another time).

    I went in the church and soon discovered my sister Dawn, uncle Joey and aunt Ginger and with them some giant of a lad that I was introduced as a cousin – much to young to be that tall. Soon other relatives would arrive: Amy (sister), Becky (cousin), Ryan (brother), Debbie (aunt) and a whole bunch of folks I’m supposed to know but really have no memory of. Before the service we shared a few memories and caught up a bit – Facebook helps with that stuff but it’s nice to get the little details in person.

    The service was short, not a lot of preaching by the preacher, but he was pretty to look at. Then there was an open mike where anyone could get up and share memories of Grandma. My sister Amy led that followed by Dawn – it was nice that they both brought to my mind times I had forgotten, like listening to old radio shows on cassette tapes (Lone Ranger is the only show I can remember off hand, but there were tons of those), making sock puppets, and writing letters to the editor of the local newspaper. There was some bad singing – mostly because church songs are so boring musically add that to tone deaf singers and well disaster. After the service there were sandwiches, crackers, desserts and drinks before we headed to the cemetery where the VFW was waiting to help us put Grandma in the ground – Grandma was a WAVE during the war and after they gave a 21 gun salute and played Taps (I think it’s Taps correct me if I’m wrong) they gave Grandma’s oldest a folded up flag for her service. That was pretty emotional for all parties involved. In the city of Whitehall my phone only had a good signal in the cemetery – weird. Then we all headed back to the church for a bit before dispersing – I led one of my cousins that I don’t really know to the outskirts of Galesville before heading to my Ma’s.

    At Ma’s I got to spend time with her, my sister Rhonda and here husband Greg, my nephews Michael and Cory and Cory’s wife Danielle. And of course Charlie, my incredibly smart, gifted and cute grand nephew. He’s just such a bundle of fun, and at 2 years of age pretty damn smart I’d say. After everyone had left and it was just Ma, Michael and I it was near enough to bed time that I hit the hay and slept until 5:00 or some ungodly hour and struggled to stay asleep but really – once I’m up, I’m up. Saturday Rhonda, Greg and I went out thrift saling in the Holmen/Onalaska area and before we knew it the day had passed us by and we were back home for some pork from the grill, potatoes from the garden and good conversation. Ma’s recuperating from her knee replacement quickly and everyone seems to be eating healthier or at least less than normal.

    Sunday I took Ma to church where I found there was another preacher that was good eye candy. He preached on ACTS and laws of God and man and sticking to the message, whatever that message might be – at least that’s what I heard. At the service was one of my high school English teachers and I thanked her for being one of the teachers that introduced me to what I love. After the service Ma and I went to breakfast before I left for Eau Claire.

    I stopped at the Whitehall Cemetery to visit Pa and see his stone – which was recently put in. I talked to him for a bit and cried a little bit just thinking about him, missing him and wishing he was still here. When I come home I can still see bits and pieces of him around the house and in the whole family. I don’t think there is a day that goes by that we don’t miss him. The stone is beautiful and I wiped off some old grass clippings and straightened up the flowers. I’ll be sure to stop again next time I pass through town. It is kind of weird to see Ma’s name there when she’s still alive, but hopefully we wont fill in the date after the dash for a good long time.

    Once I arrived at Pat and Brenda’s Pat and I decided to hit a movie, Horrible Bosses, which we really liked. Then Samantha came over and the four of us went to dinner and Dairy Queen and then watched Rango at the house. It’s nice to spend time with them – even when they’re more obsessed with the iPad than any human should be. 😉

    Monday I left the Chippewa Valley around 10:30 for the Cities and then flew home, arriving close to 9:00 thanks to a ride from the Boss who also flew back into BWI last night.

    So I’ll be home for a few days before I head back to the Midwest for my scheduled trip on Friday.

  • Singing with Star

    Growing up I was always surrounded by music. At every family gathering there would be singing by the adults and the kids. My mother would often be asked to come up on stage and sing at bars or at the town festival beer tents. Us kids would often put on shows for our parents or uncles and aunts if they would let us. One of my aunts tried to get me interested in playing the piano and my grandmother often tried to teach me to play the guitar.

    My grandmother, Star, would play guitar, sing and she wrote many songs about her life and the lives of those around her. One particular song “Sawmill Mans Wife” was a childhood favorite, I don’t recall the lyrics, but I do recall that the last time I heard her play it my aunt Ginger cried – so perhaps the lyrics weren’t happy memories. I hope someone managed to save her lyrics and music.

    I was fortunate enough to live with my Grandmother for a few years when I was a teenager and I think she picked up her guitar almost every day, and if not the guitar then the dulcimer, the accordion or would just be humming away. Music seemed to be the center of every moment for her. If she was doing woodworking on her walking sticks, or on a new guitar she’s be whistling away or singing an old song that had special importance for her.

    Songs that I probably wouldn’t have been exposed to otherwise I learned about from my grandmother, songs by Ernest Tubb, Hank Williams, Patsy Cline, and most importantly her songs.

    We would accompany Grandmother to camp sites where they were protesting nuclear power or whatever and Grandma would get up on stage and sing protest songs, popular songs and sometimes some of us would get on stage and sing with her. My sister and I once got into an argument live on stage about the right way to sing Barbara Mandrell’s “Crackers” – I think I was doing most of the arguing – Dawn understood that the show must go on and kept singing, I understood that I was going to grow up and be a drama queen.

    I can easily recall images of my grandmother strumming her guitar, singing at a campfire, or at home. Most of those are good memories that I can cherish for all time. Music has been one of those things that can make me feel better no matter what – thanks Grandma.

  • Men Behaving Badly – Las Vegas

    About eight years ago I was looking into moving to Las Vegas – no snow, lots of opportunities, lots of new housing. During a few of the visits out there I would check out AA meetings (which were pretty good) and modify my online profiles (gay men meet up sites) to let guys know I would be in the area.

    Before one particular visit I met a guy online who lived out there and we started up conversations leading up to my visit getting the small chat out-of-the-way. He had a nice looking photo and didn’t come across as an axe murderer – a good sign in my book. We arranged to go to dinner and the movies when I got into town, it was opening weekend for the Matrix Reloaded and I really wanted to see it. He agreed to pick me up at my hotel – so about 15 minutes before he was to arrive (I do these things to myself all the time – why do I wait 15 minutes before an event? not one clue, but I do it for almost everything) I was outside enjoying comfortable weather in Las Vegas.

    When he pulled up on time in an old beat up collector type convertible (I don’t know car brands, models and crap) I wondered if he was running late and had his father come to pick me up for him – he appeared much older than his photographs online. But he assured me it was him and then explained that those photos were about 10 years old. *sigh* Now you might think this is an uncommon occurrence, surely most people have a current photo on their online profile, but I’ve found numerous profiles with this same issue. This was also not the worst part of the date.

    The conversation on the way to the movies was good, he didn’t frighten me with erratic driving, nor scream at the other drivers even though I wanted to. Sure he looked older than the photograph, but he seems like a genuinely nice man. So when we picked our seats in the movie and he smiled at me before the lights went down I thought this might have potential. Then it happened….

    His cell phone rang. Wow, I hate when I forget to turn off my cell phone in a movie and I get all embarrassed… probably nerves from the first date I think… but no – he starts to have a conversation on the phone during the movie. Yes, the conversation was brief, yes he was quiet, but several people glanced back at us and I really wanted to move several seats away from him. What seemed to me to be an eternity of him talking on his cell phone finally came to an end and he said “Work” with a half-smile, like that was supposed to make it all better.

    So having been distracted from a movie I was just starting to enjoy I took some time in my head to go over the incident and thought perhaps he only had the conversation because he had forgotten to turn the cell phone off and was a bit flustered. This wasn’t a black mark on the date, people make mistakes and he probably wouldn’t do this again. But sure enough, twenty minutes later his cell phone rang again and he had one more conversation with – what I’m sure was the same person from before.

    After the movie I ask him to return me to my hotel, he asks if I’m sick or something or if he’d done something wrong. I stare at him aghast that he doesn’t know how rude his behavior was and I figure if he can’t figure that out on his own then my telling him certainly wont help.

    Now I’ve been to the movies with doctors, lawyers, judges, EMTs and they’ve all managed to put their communication devices on vibrate and a few times have left the movie to respond to an emergency – but this guy, he managed a hotel and couldn’t be bothered.

     

    REASONS THERE WAS NEVER A SECOND DATE:

    #1 PHOTO OVER 2 YEARS OLD ON HIS PROFILE

    #2 TALKING ON HIS CELL PHONE DURING THE MOVIE – TWICE