One of the funniest commercials I've seen recently

Baseball fans will appreciate this.
So will sports widows. ;)

Another night with an old friend

Tonight was another night driving with the moon.

Full moon tonight after a gorgeous total eclipse this morning. I was awake when the eclipse started, and was fortunate enough to be able to see it from my bedroom window...until it disappeared behind the neighbor's house. Didn't want to pull back the curtains to see it, though...didn't want my neighbor to think I'm spying. ;)

But tonight was spent driving with an old friend. It's always nice, seeing the full moon in the sky, off in the distance, keeping me company as I make my way home.

Been on a bit of a Supertramp kick recently, and I was listening to their greatest hits. From Now On was playing, and I couldn't help but think how much I loved that song, how it was one of my theme songs for so long (close behind my all-time theme, The Pretender by Jackson Browne.

Just thought I'd share the lyrics here wit'cha, in case you find yourself driving with the moon...

Monday has come around again
I'm in the same old place
With the same old faces always watching me
Who knows how long I'll have to stay
Could be a hundred years of sweat and tears
At the rate that I get paid

Sometimes I slowly drift away
From all the dull routine
That's with me every day
A fantasy will come to me

Diamonds are what I really need
Think I'll rob a store, escape the law
And live in Italy
Lately my luck has been so bad
You know the roulette wheel's
A crooked deal, I'm loosing all I had

Soon be like a man that's on the run
And live from day to day
Never needing anyone
Play hide and seek, throughout the week

My life is full of romance

Guess I'll always have to be
Living in a fantasy
That's the way it's got to be
From now on

Guess I'll always have to be
Living in a fantasy
No it won't be really me
From now on

You think I'm crazy I can see
It's you for you, and me for me
Living in a fantasy
From now on

Guess I'll always have to be
Living in a fantasy
That's the way it's got to be
From now on

Guess I'll always have to be
Living in a fantasy
It's you for you, and me for me
From now on

Guess I'll always have to be
Living in a fantasy
That's the way it's got to be
From now on

Guess I'll always have to be
Living in a fantasy
It's you for you, and me for me
From now on

Guess I'll always have to be
Living in a fantasy
That's the way it's got to be
From now on

It wasn't all bad the other night...

...I did get leid.




Yes, it's pink. Don't say a word about that, y'hear?

Revelations

The following wasn't easy for me to write. It's deeply personal. If introspective crap like this bores you, please move onto the next blog and come back here next time. I'll try and be more entertaining then.

I had a revelation last night. Nothing dramatic, nothing earth-shattering. There was no thunderclap in the distance to support it, no dramatic music providing a powerful soundtrack, just me, lying in bed, ready to fall asleep thinking about some things I shouldn't have been thinking about (because if I continued thinking about them, I would never had fallen asleep, and everyone knows I love my sleep).

Last night was a family dinner at the home for My Kid. A Hawaiian Luau complete with limbo contest (no, I didn't limbo...I've no intention of falling flat on my back, thankyouverymuch), tropical music, and a slice of pineapple on the piece of ham they gave me for dinner.

I didn't eat too much of my dinner, though. Spent most of my time making sure The Kid was eating properly. Gently reminding her to slow down. (She doesn't think while she eats, and just shovels in the food sometimes.) Reminding her to sip her drink and sip slowly. Wiping off her mouth because most of the food has ended up somewhere else besides where it's supposed to be.

Out of everything else that I've had to do (and believe me, there are some things I've done that would surprise and shock you), that is the hardest thing of all...watching my mother, a woman who was known for proper table manners, being neat and clean, slop food all over the place.

It's a bitch for me to admit that. I can deal with everything else. I've dealt with shit (literally), with blood, with all kinds of other...but I can't deal with watching her eat. The simple fact of having to wipe my mother's mouth off, clear away the mushed up food and drink that she wears, sometimes, more than she eats, and I can't deal with that.

That's why I usually leave before feeding time. I don't want to be there to see her eat. Family dinners, I'll gladly go to and be there for her, but...



She was getting tired (guess she'd been up most of the afternoon), and toward the end of the dinner, she was starting to dose off in her wheelchair. I took her back to her room and stayed with her for about 10 minutes until the nurses came in and cleaned her up (God bless them and their ability to do that...no way in Hell could I manage that), and put her to bed.

I came back in her room, gave her a goodnight kiss, wished her sweet dreams and said goodnight. She was smiling, so content, so happy, when I left. She had a good night, mostly (I think) because I was there.

Wasn't easy, the drive home last night. I felt...I dunno. Lonely. Emotionally needy. Depressed. Mostly depressed, I guess. Things on my mind that I couldn't shake. It wasn't until I got in bed (far too early last night, even by my standards) and I lay there thinking about things I shouldn't and going to places in my mind that I know better than to go, that I realized...it was the simple act of watching my mother eat, and watching her slop food all over herself, when I was raised to be so neat and tidy at the table...

I felt...and still do...feel about one inch tall over this one. Gonna take me awhile to come to terms with this. I'm sure I will, in time. Writing about it helps, and is a start, but it'll take more than just posting a long blog to help me deal with this one.

Comments for this post are disabled. Nothing personal, but please...don't talk to me about it. As my friend the flowerpetal taught me to say, "It is what it is". Leave it at that. Just...thanks for reading.

Since you asked...

I called the doctor's office today.

There are no blockages.

Everyone go ahead and start breathing again... ;)

One Five Oh

This is my 150th blog entry. Wow. I knew I was full of bullshit, but really...I'm impressed.

(Okay, this is more like the 152nd or 153rd. I did delete a couple here and there. I'm not one to slash and burn, but I do delete on occasion.)

Friday night. Sitting on the floor of my living room. Typing on the laptop as it rips (for my own personal use) Beastie Boys Solid Gold Hits CD into OGG Vorbis files. You might've seen the "PLAY OGG" link on my page here. Ogg Vorbis is an open-source audio encoder that, to a lot of people, just sounds better than MP3s. My music player plays Ogg files...a definite selling point for me, when I bought it. Yeah, it's geeky, but those that really know me, know a) I don't do things the easy way, and b) I will geek things out when I can.

Sitting here with my shirt off (calm yourself ladies, please), occasionally rubbing my chest. No, it's not a perverted thing. No, I'm not feeling myself up. It's because parts of my chest were shaved this week.

See, on Wednesday, I had a stress test.

Don't panic. I haven't had any heart problems. It was more...preventive medicine.

See, there is a history of heart problems in my family. My Pop had a bad heart. My Kid has a pacemaker because of an irregular (and now enlarged) heart. There's a definite history of heart problems in my family, and I figure...

I'll be honest. I turn 40 next month. I've not always taken the best care of myself, but I always used the excuse that I was too busy taking care of My Kid to worry about myself.

I don't have that excuse anymore (even though she does have another infection and I've been calling out there daily, checking up on her...especially since I found out they were giving her an antibiotic that I told them she was allergic to.

So, yeah, I had a Stress Test. For those of you unaware of what a Stress Test is, it's where they stress your heart. They make you walk on a treadmill that keeps getting faster and goes at a higher angle until you reach a specific heart rate.

In my case, I had to reach a heart rate of 154 beats per minute. Normally, at rest, I'm about 60-70 beats per minute (less if I concentrate and relax). Walking, normally, I can reach 80-90 beats per minute.

To reach the magic number they wanted, I was on the treadmill for over seven and a half minutes, with it getting faster and higher every two minutes. By the end, yeah, I was getting seriously out of breath and my legs were feeling like mush, but I made it.

Toward the end, they injected me with a dye. They then laid me out on a table, and took pictures of my heart. After a bit of rest, they took more pictures, and were going to compare the two pictures to see if there's any problems.

I'm guessing there's no problems, since the doctor called my house (according to the caller ID), but didn't leave a message. No news is good news and all that.

Otherwise, the doc said I'm in good shape. Clean bill of health and all that.

But yeah, I did the stress test, and they shaved part of my glorious chest hair. Now, it's starting to itch.

At least it gives me an excuse to feel up my own chest. ;)

The tree is gone

Those of you who know of my Storm Artists account, know I've posted a couple pictures of a beautiful tree (found here and here). What most folks don't know is that was out at The Kid's nursing home.

As you can tell, that beautiful tree is no more. I noticed it after visiting with her today...walked out the door was nearly knocked off my feet at the sight.

Went back in and talked to one of the nurses. Seems that old tree was a victim of a lightning strike from the bad thuderstorms we had last Thursday.

Such a shame. That was a beautiful tree.

At least we have the photos to remember it by.

My Saturday Night

The best laid schemes of Mice and Men
oft go awry,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For promised joy!

...Robert Burns, To a Mouse (Poem, November, 1785)

While I had no schemes for this past Saturday, I did have some plans, but plans do have a tendency to change. This is a fact of life. It's neither a good thing, nor a bad. It is what it is.

So, with my Saturday evening free, I found myself at loose ends. What to do? I didn't feel like staying in: The weather cooperated and today turned out to be beautiful, warm but not hot, comfortable but not humid. A rarity for Pittsburgh this time of year, so best to take advantage of it.

After spending the last few nights cleaning out my basement, and today working in the yard and cleaning the house, I felt I'd earned dinner out, rather than taking something from the freezer. A quick trip to Primanti's for, of all things, a Gyro (with fries in in) satisfied my physical hunger, but I yearned for something...more.

I just didn't know what that was, so I decided to fall back on the tried and true: Chai tea.

It was obvious which vendor I was going to visit, but with so many different locations to choose from, it was more a question where. That's when I remembered: Every Saturday night, they have a live jazz concert at the Shoppes at Penn Center East, near Monroeville. Might be a few people there, but it'll be interesting. I'd never been to the concert there before, and I'd always wanted to, so I decided, tonight was the night.

Got there a little early, but already, the little plaza was full. It was a "bring your own chair" kind of event, and I was lacking in this area. Thankfully, the Sears had a portable chair that was in my, shall we say, weight class, for a more-than-reasonable price (thank you, end-of-season clearance specials), so it was off to the show.

I couldn't have asked for a more perfect evening. Clear skies, nice breeze, pleasant, and great music.

There's something about a jazz concert. People are smiling, nodding, tapping their toes but at the same time, being friendly and sociable. Families are there. Kids are (mostly) well-behaved. Some folks show up dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, some, as they say, dressed to the nines. I took my new seat and found a nice spot to the rear. From here, I could hear the music, but also watch the audience and observe.

Something interesting in observing the "human condition" at events like these. Some folks chat with family, most are tapping their toes, but everyone is just there to listen to good music and have a good time.

That's why I was there, and I was glad I came.

Yeah, it wasn't the evening I'd hoped for, but it was a nice night nonetheless. There are a couple more concerts planned before they end. After all, once August ends, we all understand Summer's over around these parts (even if the weather's still nice for another good two months). Still, I think I might take my chair and try to make another show on another Saturday night. Might not be as perfect as this one, but then...life doesn't have to be perfect.

As long as you're living, that's all that matters.

Oh, the weather outside is frightful...

August 8th came and went. Took the day off, relaxed, went out to see The Kid.

She's doing better, actually. She's remembering a bit more, some of the old "fire" has returned (she kept insisting on wanting to go down to the cafeteria for dinner, even though she had just finished lunch), and I can talk to her and get a decent conversation out of her.

Talked to the nurse out there to see if it's possible she can go back to a regular wheelchair (she'd been in more of a padded recliner-type wheelchair for the past few months) now that bedsores have cleared up.

Spending the time with her was good for both of us. I know she misses being around me a good bit and is happy when I come out to see her or call her, and I know she's doing better where she is now. It's a bit of relief on both our minds, I think.

At least she doesn't sulk and cry when I go to leave these days...at least, not so much.


No, this isn't my attempt at art. The rather colorful picture you see here is a radar image I managed to save from The Weather Underground's website from roughly 3PM yesterday.

Earlier in the morning, Pittsburgh and the surrounding counties received anywhere from two to three and a half inches of rain in less than an hour from a storm that, pretty much, appeared out of nowhere. Certain parts of the area, like Millvale and Sharpsburg, that had been flooded earlier in the week, were especially hard hit.

The problem was, the worst was yet to come.

A little after 3PM, this wave hit, harder than the morning's storm. Buildings had parts of the walls knocked off from wind damage. Reports of a funnel cloud were heard from a spout forming in the Monongahela River headed upstream (in fact, the area was under a tornado warning...a rare, but not unheard of, event for Pittsburgh). Basements already flooded from early morning waters were rising higher, as cars and people were getting stranded.

And yet, from my vantage point in the (relative) safety of an office building here at CMU, I could still see college students, running around outside, on the lawn, as lightning was crashing and driving rains poured down.

The immortality and stupidity of youth never ceases to amaze me.

By the time I got home, I expected the worst but found it wasn't too bad. My basement took on a little water, but nothing that couldn't be cleaned up with a broom and a bit of pushing. Thank goodness I had the walls coated with drylock a couple years ago. They kept out the worst of it, but water being water, found weak spots and made its way in anyway.

I did lose almost two longboxes of old comics. My own stupidity for storing them down there, I admit. Nothing too valuable, and nothing I'll lose sleep over. Those were things. Things can be replaced.

They said no one died in the storms that hit yesterday, thank goodness. A couple people had heart attacks, but they'll pull through. Some idiots who decided it was a good idea to drive through areas of standing water and got stucks were rescued, but then, every good storm, you'll find some brainless moron who'll think they can make it through because "it's not that deep". Yeah, right. You have no idea how deep it is, kids...best not to take the chance and stay safe and dry.

Of course, that doesn't mean I'm not an idiotic moron. I wanted to go get my ladylove (who lives in a low-lying, flood-prone zone) and get her and her roommate (and the dog...maybe a cat or two) to the (relative) safety of my place for the night. She told me the main roads were blocked getting in, but I said I could find my way around the back roads. (I know, I know...not the brightest idea I've ever had, but fools in love and all that nonsense...)

She told me not to worry. She was safe. The floodwaters didn't make it up to her place (even if they were about two short blocks away), and they only had two inches of water in her basement (at least they got the washer and dryer up on blocks now). It was best to stay where we were respectively, and know the other's safe.

Level-headed thinking. What a concept!

Things are starting to dry out now. There's a chance of rain for today (you can always check my weather by clicking on the Weather Underground icon, on the right side of the page), but hopefully, it'll be nothing like yesterday.

Just let the humidity drop, and the temperatures during the day stay below 80, and I'll be happy.

One year today

I'll most likely be offline all day today.
We'll talk later.

Memories are made of this.

I had a glass of pineapple juice today.

It tasted so good. I swear, I haven't had a glass of pineapple juice in years. It evoked memories...simpler times, but the, memories generally are from simpler times.

It make me think of visits to Disneyland when I was a kid, and going to the tiki village. They always had pineapple there, either big hunks or glasses of pineapple juice, or frozen pineapple ice. It usually was warm or hot when we went, and it always tasted so good. Doesn't matter if I just ate, had something else, or whatever, when we got to the tropical tiki place, I had to have some pineapple juice.

There's a certain smell that comes with pineapple juice, along with the great taste. It lingers in the air, stays with you, reminds you just how good it can me. Even though I finished it about a half-hour back, I can still smell it, and enjoy the memories it carries.

Memories so strong, I had to talk about it, even if the words seem insignificant and can't compensate for the memories.

Still smells good. Tastes better.

In fact, it was so good, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go have another...

Goddamn it!

I'm slippin' in my old age. Gonna hafta work on this...

Thanks to Cherry for pointing this out to me...