Thanksgiving and The Birds, 2011

This was a busy day. We started early to make the thanks and the feast work for everyone. This was a special Thanksgiving for us. Very grateful to have Vicki's mom, my mom and so much family living in the area and able to be with us.

We always cook the bird stuffed and on the Weber. Never had the skin split before. 'Sup wid dat? 

Vicki makes the very best stuffing in the world. By the way, with continuous basting the meat did not dry out. We also had ham just in case.

Thanksgiving without green bean casserole? I think not!

Calling all chairs! Before the troops arrive.

Food platz. Ms. Kitty is first in line.

This guy watched me all morning as I cooked the bird. Haven't seen him since.

Festive Family Room, before appetizers.

He's still there! Largest Woodpecker I've ever seen!

Ah, it looks better with people on board.

And some of the next generation as well.

Vicki did a very special and moving job with the blessing, remembering dad and missing the family members that could not be with us.

I look but do not touch. Coffee was good though.

All in all I recall it was a very satisfying day as I slipped into a tryptophan daze watching football.

A Ripple, A Wake, A Wave and A Crest

It is not that there isn’t food-for-thought, there is

It is just that there is no thinking going on

There is starvation in the words

Should ~ Could ~ Would

The overgrowth of issues needing solution

provides all the grist we need

***

We lay in the waveless water bed

reading the Sunday paper, working "the big" crossword

watching "CBS Sunday Morning" with Charles Kuralt

as we slip into a comfy nap.

***

The trance of day to day living

dispels the friction of minutes and hours

colliding with each breath we take.

Life’s undeniable tectonic plates.

Not if but when.

***

May we all see hope

in the eyes of our children.

That one day they may see hope

in the eyes of their children.

09.11.2001

The day before I had a job interview for a position with a company called First Health Insurance. They had recently bought a local medical bill - processing company named CCN. The VP of Human Resources flew in to Tampa from Chicago for the day and was planning on a return flight the next day 9/11/01.

Her name was Nancy. She was around the same age as I and had been with the company through several years of rapid growth. She was excited about the future prospects as the company continued to grow mostly by acquisition.

We got along pretty well that day and I felt good about my chances. The next day things changed forever for all of us.

Vicki called me from work in the morning and for the next several days I just remember being glued to the television watching in amazement as the video of the jets crashing into the twin towers repeated. Each new hour it seemed more information and different perspectives filled the sound bites around the constant replay of the amazing video footage.

The stories of terror, panic and bravery were all unfolding and being shared through whatever media was available. I remember thinking what was it that these innocent people from all walks of life could have done to deserve an attack and an end like this? What was it that we did or represented as a society that could provoke such hatred to produce a plan for such indiscriminate carnage?

All this in the name of god? Our curse and blessing as humans is this brain functionality. In our wants and needs we are not that different from the other species on this earth, but as it has been observed before, we are the only species that will kill for reasons other than sustenance.

It is our daily fight for order and sanity. It is our hell on earth. I hope we can come to our senses, but there is so much damage done.

Fall Tease

The last couple of days have been slightly mashed with the tease of fall. Slightly less humidity in the air and the smell of text books, pigskin and marching bands. It is still around 90 degrees here in Tampa but drier air really does make a difference.

There is a little more pep in everyone's step along with a slight curl of the lips that hints of a smile. I miss the fall season up north, but after 30 years down here I am beginning to appreciate the subtle changes of semi-tropical seasons.

We are not out of (said with a hush) "hurricane" season for another couple of months, but the end is in sight.

Still, as I am reminded of fall, I remember doing a lot of walking home on dark nights with a brisk breeze and too much movement of the dead and crispy fallen leaves.

Walking Home

06/18/11

I found a place that I’m not looking for

behind creaky doors, between cracks in the floor

In the dark recesses of a cold fall night

wind rustling dry leaves as I speed up my stride

Thinking I might be found out and exposed

like the emperor’s set of invisible clothes

“He has nothing for us after all,” I may hear,

left behind, ignored and alone I do fear

Is home a direction that gives me relief?

Do these memories cause me joy or just grief?

no rapture, no moments of glee to resound

If I speak and none listen do I make a sound?

Still I’m driven to walk these streets my mind knows

at the pace of a frightened boy running home

Play It Loud

E-MAIL:

All,

I was thinking about driving around on my own back in Roch. and cranking up the radio pretty loud most of the time.

Seems like there were only a couple of stations that played palatable music, WBBF (seems like Jack Palvino was the main DJ) and WSAY (I can only remember Tommy Thomas, because Joe Clifford was that guy for a bit).

I remember being struck by the fact that they made Joe use a fake name instead of his own until he explained they did that for continuity sake. They paid so little that the job was like a revolving door. They would have to keep remaking promotions for the show if every time some new Tom, Dick or Joey took over. Made sense.

Back to singing along. Since Joe and I did a lot of cruising around together, in the '57 Chevy with the rotted out back floor that Chris Putts' boyfriend at the time (Gary something) gave me, or the light blue '60's Ford (also given to me I think) or Joe's Corvair, we did manage to belt out what I think were pretty good harmonies to Simon and Garfunkel, Beach Boys, Beatles, Stones and every one else on the radio.

I was wondering if each of you did the same thing with your friends at that crazy carefree time in your lives or if you did something else similar.

So truth, did you get your crazies on with the early freedom of the road and radio??


POEM:

Play It Loud

09/01/11

When we were finally able to drive alone

we cranked the radio tunes up!

We knew the words to every song

and sang along “con gusto”

Yes, we could sing every melody

and harmony as well

The radio and the road were ours

with no worries

Time has passed for amped up music.

We pay more attention to the road

Now, we hear the old songs

at a moderate lilt

But in our minds we see

that kid at full tilt.

"Behold!"

I miss the word "behold" as it used to be applied with astonishment (usually in the bible), like "Behold, a miracle before your eyes!"

It is a Charlton Heston epic sized word. A biblical frequent flier, at least in the old texts. I'm not sure if it is used as much as the churches attempt to draw in a younger "now generation" of believers.

As for me, these days I am grateful to "be held" on occasion and every day seems to be a miracle!

"Behold, a new day!"

Glad I could get that out of my system.

Did You Know That...?

Some thoughts that made me go hummmm with no regard for common sense. Thus non-sense.

Hummmm Things:

“Crapulent” - has nothing to do with your yard tools that your neighbor has had in his garage for the last six months?

“Lent” - is a time of self-assessment but “relent” is a time of self-denial. I don’t think you can “Re-Lent” but during “Lent” you may often “relent”, unless your neighbor insists your tools are actually his, then you might be relentless!

Stopping your life to smell the roses is very romantic but sometimes life just shoves your face right past the flowers and into the fertilizer.

Life is not all just buttercups and roses. If it were we would not appreciate the pretty little buggers.

Birthday Dinner

Nice dinner with some family members at mom's place.

Prep time at home. Vicki preps while Erin hunts a snack down and I take pics.

You can't tell but dessert is cooking in the oven and smelling great!

Pasta sauce with Spicy and Sweet Italian Sausage

A hug while watching preparation. After all it is my birthday!

Digging in to the good stuff.

Head chef in the Rays shirt.

A man of action indeed

Apple crisp from scratch by the chef

Pretty well demolished pasta. The very best of leftovers!

A Voice Within

STORY:


This poem is possibly about a flesh-and-blood person (or people), but it is also about the workings inside my head.

I have always thought there was more than one "person" working in my brain to make a direction for my life. Not so much a full blown mapped out plan, but rather choices related to the path of least resistance, greatest comfort or a combination of the two. The brains version of the force of gravity.

Picture rain falling on an ever changing surface or maybe just rain that's not falling. No room for good physics to apply here, after all it is in my head and I'm not sure the process of thinking has to follow the earthly rules of force and resistance.

Why the female persona? Its a good way to say that whatever is in this brain of mine, this other side of my thinking, is really a different kind of force and commands respect. Not to worry. She is an Amazon with great confidence and yet a sense of grace and style.

There is a certain amount of tongue-in-cheek in this post, as usual with me, but I'm not sure if it is my tongue or hers. Oh ~ chuckle chuckle.



POEM:

A Voice Within

03/23/11

"I know you now." She said

With a darting glance

that betrayed her words

as their echo rumbled through my head.

A glib laugh that by itself sounds quite awkward

but in context makes me feel the damp

chill of being alone and being afraid.

“Be strong now,” repeats with each beat of my heart.

A heart that I am suddenly more aware of,

connecting my head and chest.

Pounding out the fear

forcing me to breathe in

and out as a tonic.

I will not look in a mirror right now,

not even a glance,

until I am sure.

Could she possibly know

the power she holds?

The Mundane and The Memories

When I started down this blog road I had a flood of things to say and memories that I felt needed memorializing.

This all materialized over the winter and into the spring, which coincided with a new "Christmas" computer, and availability of easier internet access. I tip-toed into Facebook and fell soon thereafter into Skype and the blog thing.

Wanting to follow directions/suggestions I have tried to say something fresh on the blog daily. I have nothing to sell and no terribly dramatic stories or adventures to titillate a throng of readers.

What I do have is hacked-up memories of my life growing up in Rochester, NY and a rather positive outlook on living a considerably ordinary live. Oh, I also have a habit of looking for a way to find a  dry irony (I prefer to call it humor but many would argue differently) in almost everything.

I also have a tendency to blurt out these thoughts for whatever cheap laugh, pursed lips or raised eyebrow I can get. It makes me smile and, more recently, makes me just start giggling like a school girl at myself before I can get a word out.

I really hope for followers, readers and family to roll on the floor laughing and "get it",  but I may have to settle for being my own best (and almost only) true fan/stalker/paparazzi. I will try to be true to my roots and not just write a word or two because its the next day, but only write something with a message (I use the term "message" quite loosely).

For my loyal family members and possible friends who happen to check in now and then ~ Thank You So Much!!

(Self Portrait, As Blowfish)

Foods That Start The Same But Don't Go Together

Combos that make you go yuck!

Apple Crisp ~~ Anchovies

Buttermilk ~~ Bologna

Capers ~~ Cannolis

Doughnuts ~~ Dills

Eclairs ~~ Eels

Flounder ~~ Frappes

Grapes ~~ Gravy

Hummus ~~ Halavah

Continue on your own. Let me know what you come up with.

Cloud Sweeping Pine

(It could happen!)

Eastern Quake and Chicken Soup

An earthquake in Virginia felt up in NYC and Boston? Also mentioned was an earlier event in Colorado.

Goodness what unexpected events.

Building hurricane Irene off the east coast.

Really makes me think about how we are just renting this time and space on earth.

So fortunate we are to be able to delude ourselves, thinking we actually own this piece of land and the house that sits on it.

The house was not here before and chances are that over time it will not be here again.

But while it is and we are in it, I think I'll have some soup and some nice focaccia that Erin made.

(She loves her bread maker)

School Starts Tomorrow

Traffic is going to bite everywhere around Tampa ~

Hard Summer Rains

STORY:


This has been a summer of stressors. It is unusual for us to have so many challenges from so many directions. In the world of statistical probability we were "due" for some crap.

In the la-la land of T.V. sitcoms and commercials we had been holding our own with the good news part of life. Every once-in-a-while we would hear of a friend or acquaintance being struck by a sudden illness or loss and take the opportunity to remind ourselves how fragile life actually is and how fortunate we have been to avoid such things.

The crack in the looking glass started last year with the rise of some family medical stuff and our dad's illness and passing. The theme of our own vulnerability has continued into the new year but with an added twist.

The twist is hitting typical milestone holidays and events (Father's Day, Memorial Day, Dad's Birthday etc.) that are now accented by the fact that dad is no longer with us to share these moments.

This is not woe is me talk. Its more like holy crap and ouch!! Some of this I do not like so much! I would like a break in the action pretty soon, so a good rain storm may be very refreshing right now. Lets go puddle-jumping like kids again (even if only in our minds).

POEM:

Hard Summer Rains

Too much has filled this cup of summer

sunshine for sure

and heat, so much heat

burning memories of time and people passing

a skillet filled with new fish to fry

holidays and birthdays like gasoline on the flames

steam rising in the street

from a rain that is no relief, its hard to breathe

as it burns off from an unbroken sun

Give me more rain and clouds, lots of clouds

give me shade trees

give me a cooling breeze

Let's run in the rain, through big puddles

jump and splash and laugh

laugh so hard that summer never matters

Eyes Wide Open

She is the one for me.

I am a lucky man.

Lucky because I don't know that I have been good enough in my life to deserve even a glance from her. Yet, when I look in the mirror, she is there. When she comes home at night I am as eager to see her as our dog Frisky (whimpering, tail wagging, toy bringing Frisky).

Our lives are intertwined. Fine vines growing together, not choking each other but sharing the earth, the sun and our precious time.

She has abided with me and my silliness, sometimes even enjoyed it, and I am so thankful for that.

I hope you have someone in your life who helps keep your eyes wide open.

Eyes Wide Open

07/18/11

If I close my eyes

will I see less of your beauty?

If I cannot hold you

will I not feel your warmth?

If we sit in silence

do I not hear our song?

If you are away from me

do I lose the fragrance of our life?

If the waters of time pass us by

am I not renewed by our river of joy?

Summer Knock Outs

I think the heat of the Florida Summer is knocking out my creative juice factory. It is down from a three shift 24/7 operation to a part-time, mail it in kind of production. Without knowing for sure, I am now thinking (or not thinking) of it as a seasonal enterprise.

I was a teacher in a past life so having summers off is not that foreign to by biological calendar. Yes, it was over 30 years ago that I tromped through the halls and classrooms of an elementary school on a daily basis, but there has to be some residual "feel good" about summer time and the "cogito ergo sum" work we did painting houses. (Like being a shepherd, you know lots of time to think and all.)

Yes, I worked in the summer because for some reason the bills did not understand that teachers had a break in pay cycles and I wasn't smart or frugal enough to not spend it when I had it. It was fun anyway, getting all physical with ladders, belt-sanders, brushes and cans of paint.

Desmond and I were fussy and good at it if I do say so myself. We still had plenty of time to play tennis, throw a football around or throw pebbles from the customer's driveway into empty paint cans from 20 feet away while we had lunch. I wish I had some pictures to share but we were too busy living in that moment to think about creating memories.

Houses in Rochester, New York do take a beating from the seasons but if you do the right kind of preparation with sanding in blistered paint and washing off dirt and grime before laying a coat of primer and then one or two coats of finish paint over that, they can clean up quite nicely.

We only used a paint sprayer on one or maybe two jobs. As I recall that was quick work on a large multi-family apartment building (dark brown with tan trim). I believe it was in the neighborhood by the Mapledale Party House.

Ouch, I Fractured My Aesop

STORY:


This is a tale based on some truth then mixed in with a major helping of delirium and early summer mind-doldrums. The branch may not look like much, but when you're not looking and it finds you it can pack a wallop!

Live Oak (no kidding!)

I moved, not the branch.

FABLE:

Intrusive Branch Update:  A Fable

06/08/2011

While mowing the lawn the other day I bumped my head on a tree branch that I had just ducked under not more than 2 minuted before. Feeling slightly silly for not remembering the branch was there, I said I was going to cut the branch down. I posted it, 'cause thats what I do these days.

Well, the government got involved, ordered an environmental impact study (50 grand), polled the neighbors, decided to install speed bumps (20 grand) on both sides of the branch and paint it with black and yellow stripes for safety, instructed me to wear a hard hat and safety goggles whenever I go into the yard, realized the neighbors polled were from 2 streets over, removed the speed bumps (4 grand), used mineral spirits to remove the paint from the branch and killed the whole tree, sent a tree crew over to cut the hazard down, the crew thought they were supposed to raze the house, showed up with bulldozers and dump trucks, then I woke up and realized it was just the garbage truck outside.

Moral of the story: When you decide to branch out, learn from where you've already been  or you might get caught napping.

*__*

Have a nice day

The Empty Box

Some believe the brains of women and men are different. The crux of the argument is that men's brains are compartmentalized and there is an empty compartment or "box" that we can go into at will. Whereas women's brains are more integrated making them more adept at multi-tasking and creative endeavors.

Here it is explained in a video (notably by a man).

I happen to think it is generally a communication style difference. What do you think? Write me a comment to 'spress your opinion please.

The Alphabet Studies

STORY:


Really, no story here. Get some chuckle on if you dare!!


E-MAIL:

Sometimes there is fun to BE had when faced with fingers full of keyBoard, a song in my heart and time on my hands. I don't want to Bore you all with rhymes about love, getting old and dust and junk in our trunk, so this is a long way to go for a cheap pun aBout the Beatles, But thats the way my mind goes (and I chuckle to myself or sometimes out loud).

Just think - there are 26 letters to mess with!!! No need for any original ideas for at least a month. I feel a 3-D children's Book coming on, with adult undertones to keep the edge! Only kidding of course, unless Patty, my agent gets a deal for me. Then I'd clean it up a bit.
Love Ya


POEMS:

A “B” Inquiry

06/14/11

Without “B” where would we be?

We couldn’t float well on an _oat,

no flowers or trees with just _ees

or holiday cheer singing Jingle _ells.

Where is comfort in _utton down flannels

and _utton fly jeans are just flappy panels

Only Snuggies could keep us composed

“Look like a clown with your pants on the ground”

wearing _oxer _riefs - good grief!

How could any one sing Happy _irthday

and keep a straight face?

all late wishes cards would chime

“A _elated Happy _irthday to You!”

What a calamity without “B”

Now thats too confusing for old folks like me

content with all twenty-six letters you see

and words with long roots in Latin or Greek

or one of the Euro speaks

So don’t send a text with a__reviations

for two very sound reasons

I don’t have a cell phone and

I just want to Let It “B”

World Without “N”

06/22/11

The most frequently used letter in English is “N”

To write without it would be a mess for sure

All pens would be filled with i_k

to the paper the letters do not stick

how could we cultivate plants to grow gree_?

what might the right fertilizer be if we had to use ma_ure?

traffic would come to a halt I see

no one would know to go on gree_

What does a ka_garoo do without “N”, can it hope to hop?

Can a compass point a sailor to true _orth?

Would you enjoy a play that went on all day

due to a missing final curtai_, without “N”?

And how would we know when to stop a prayer

as we say “World without e_d Ame_” sans an “N” in there

I am a stalwart believer in “N” its so easy

Who wants to be best frie_ds forever? Too greasy!

Love's Direction

STORY:

I find it much easier to speak about love being in a long term and very loving relationship. I also have the benefit of a very loving family and small group of friends for life. Family love may go without explanation (although sadly for some families it may not be so), but "friends for life" is worth discussing.

I think "friends for life" is the elder version of "BFF" sans the tech-no-speak. These are the people that are there for you (and you for them) during critical times. People that comfort you when you are hurt and tell you the truth or lie to you when you need it as well. People you would go to the wall for and you know they would be there if you had a need.

Just like any relationship things can be said and done that are hurtful and cruel or your lives can drift apart from the momentum of living itself. "Friends for life" is what it is though. These people you can feel good about re-connecting with at any time and voila' there you are again like nothing had been missed.

I think all this love stuff really starts with at least liking yourself and then giving a part of that when you reach out to another. Then the chemistry starts to happen!

POEM:

Love's Direction

7/30/11

Isn’t it just a funny place to go

looking for love high and low

no compass points that care to settle

drawn to every metal pot and kettle

as winds will blow we spin and twist

like frantic archaeologists

desperate users, we need a fix

of doctor love’s special mix

what tools can sift the precious lode

to find true love as we’ve been told

no true north or south

this is how love trips start out

the sun and stars no help at all

close your eyes babe and fall

Young at Any Age

STORY:

I could sit here and write about getting older. It would be somewhat predictable as conversations go.

1. Time seems to go faster the older I get.
2. If this is the golden years, well they are not so golden.
3. Would'a, could'a should'a when I was younger.
4. Let's compare medical charts.
et cetera, et cetera, on and on, ad infinitum!

Truth is, I never thought about getting older/aging, illness and/or death until it started happening around and to me. Somehow I kept myself sheltered, disconnected and distant from the thought of "an end".

I fell in deep like with all the advertising images - older men and women scaling Mt. Everest, riding bicycles effortlessly over mountain trails, eating and drinking whatever and whenever they want. There's a right medication for every little malfunction that might occur, so not to worry.

Then there are the "mind-tricks" to play - power of positive thinking - set aside 30 minutes a day to deal with your worries - self-affirmations posted as reminders - do crossword puzzles to keep your mind active and engaged, again on-and-on and on-and -on.

The clock is real. It only goes one way. It is ticking right now. It does not stop. Everything else is pretend.

Get your thoughts down while you are able.


E-MAIL:

OK - so this poem was sparked by a line from a TV show, GLEE. One that we watch every week, at least in this house. Last night was the finale for the season and aside from several choice moments, the one that struck me the most was offered by the air-head character (one of my favorites), Brittany. She was talking heart to heart with her best bud Santana and had a few lucid moments in which she says, "Family is where you love no matter what." So I thought that it was an important enough idea to toss around a bit.

Some time ago I mentioned I felt I wanted to be less selfish. One of the things I felt selfish about was being so hard on people in my family in an effort to make me feel better inside. Most of the time it comes across and is meant as humour but it is ironic humour which can be hurtful. Unfortunately I absolutely love irony and I believe I will not be able to stop. Besides there are probably so many other things I have said and done that have hurt others feelings and/or pissed people off that I can't stop the one part of me I actually entertain myself with. I guess that means I'll continue to be selfish but please know that I love you, I am generally harmless and I have no ill intent No Matter What.

Love Ya

POEM:

No Matter What

05/25/11

We don’t have much

but we have what we need

Not a perfect way to talk

but the right words to speak

Not the same shared faith

but belief in one another

We have a different place in time

but we are always sisters and brothers

Feelings may get bruised by life’s events

but we must apply the salve of forgiveness

When it comes down to the heart of it

family is where you love each other no matter what

The Heart of Charlotte Beach Park

STORY:


Charlotte Beach Park in Rochester, NY was one of my favorite places to go when I was a kid. Over the years there were many different ways we used to get there. First was a ride in the family car, followed closely by city bus down Lake Avenue, bicycle, hitchhiking (thumbing), in friends cars and eventually my own ride.

Whatever the mode of transportation to get us there the activities that followed were the same. We would change into our bathing suits in the locker room, pin locker keys to our trunks, barefoot dash through the hot hot sand to set up the blanket or towels, then a dash into the cold clear (relatively speaking) water. Play tag or catch with a ball and do hand stands underwater.

Eventually we would end up walking out the length of the pier that controlled the flow of the muddy Genesee River into Lake Ontario. There we would watch the pleasure boats come in and out, wishing we could be on one of them. The river had a different (ripe and fishier) smell than the lake for sure. We could only imagine what it was like to go so far out into the lake and get an even better view of Canada on the north side.

Usually included in the day was a few rides on the merry-go-round to try and grab the brass ring. There was only one brass ring per ride and whoever was lucky enough to grab it got a free repeat ride! Amazing enough, the ride is still there (ring grab is gone I'm guessing)!

The day would also include lunch at the Char-Pit (steak sandwich) and a chocolate almond custard cone from Abbott's Frozen Custard stand. Both places almost always had a line cued up to get service, but the wait was worth it, yummm! Just try to keep up licking the cone as it melts on a hot summer day!!


E-MAIL:

Hi,
Isn't this sick? Sorry to bother you again, but I have this continuing need to reach out to you all. I really could stop probably, maybe, but not really. I have these thoughts that are spilling out as poems and these notes.
Please know that I am sending these because I love you and value whatever connection we are able to maintain.
I also feel a sense of urgency about keeping our connections alive and maybe trying to improve them some.
I think that I have felt this need to connect much more since dad passed away. Even though I had seen him almost daily since being laid off in 2009, I still miss him and wish he was with us today (of course as his vibrant self).

This poem is about holding on to each other and to our children the best we can. Even through the times we don't see eye to eye. Even if we have to sacrifice or swallow our own pride or "principles" to do so. Someone has to make the move and keep on making the move and reaching out.
OK big bag of wind that I am.
Love ya,

POEM:

The Carousel Ride

05/21/11

How can I reach across time

and spend only a dime

to sit atop a brightly painted horse, a rabbit or unicorn

spinning to the sound of shrill Wurlitzer pipes

on the Charlotte Park Merry-Go-Round.

Close my eyes and make a wish

take my best swipe at the mechanized arm

hoping to snag the brass ring for a charm

can I reach across time and revive

the innocence that lived in your eyes

the promises I made to love you forever

as I held you in my arms my dear

and whispered an endless stream

of hopes and dreams gently in your ear

how can we possibly tarnish this prize

we have spent our lifetimes to realize

we have no room for such selfish things

there are so few turns of our carousel

and no other rings

My Ticker & The Cost of Doing Business

This is a brief recounting of a day at the cardiologist for my first ever "Stress Test". I felt so grown up (old) to be taking part in such a complex procedure. I actually ran the gambit of test, from least invasive to a half-day procedure in the hospital. This is just the middle part, the stress test segment.

After being hooked up for 24 hours or so, I turned in the Holter monitor "On Time" and asked for a receipt saying so. Nit picky? - I don't think so. Late fee would be another $50 and missing (or unreturned) unit $1,500!!

The Tech who shaved my chest hair and put on the electrode pads was a very kindly looking older lady. As she ripped off the pads it was apparent that for each one of the six there was a little floating of the placement that ended up snagging on some unshaved hairs. As I was trying to distract my mind from the pain I was wondering if it wasn't similar to the feeling a fish might have when removing a hook? Did I mention there were six electrode pads?

Stress test today - another $50 office visit co-pay, more shaving of the chest (asked him (different tech, thank goodness) to make sure he took plenty extra off and make a cool design). He smiled and said, "I already did." Funny :-/

He put 6 electrodes on me with wires hanging, a blood pressure cup thingy on my left arm dangling as I walked on the treadmill and an IV port in my right arm where the "NUCLEAR MEDIUM" was to be injected. I felt totally bionic.

Started walking at a nice pace but then -"gonna make it a little steeper - gonna make it a little faster" (repeated twice more!). "H-ow mu-ch l-on-ger?" I blurted out as I huffed and puffed. He says "15 seconds" and I immediately start counting down. Finally I reach minus five and he starts to shut it down. I am grateful. Then I sit down catch my breath - in goes the nuclear stuff. It doesn't feel nuclear, whatever that might feel like.

On to the X-ray table for 15 minutes while a rotating Death Star Mechanism looking thing-a-ma-bob slowly navigated around my sides and chest. "Mr. Decker, breathe normally but lay perfectly still."

Tech leaves the room as I close my eyes so as not to look directly at the DSM-a-ma-bob. I hear the techies talking and laughing in the other room. I'm sure they're talking about me. I think one of them is eating a sandwich and laughing with her mouth full.

"All done for now come back in 3 and a half hours." He rips off the glued on pads quickly. I still have the IV port in. Can I eat?  "Yes have lunch but no physical activity we want some pictures of your heart at rest." OK.

At 12:30 repeat of "on the X-ray table" glues fewer electrodes on, then when done rips them off and takes out the IV port. I think he got some skin this time - He smiled. "The doctor will review your charts and give you a call."

As I said it was not the beginning or the end of my days with the cardiology office, but it was an interesting time. In the end, after all the tests, the doctor said he wished he had my heart. I took that to mean that he had a very very healthy heart and mine looked even better.  However I might think twice about going to see him again because I don't want any inadvertent heart swapping going on when I least expect it. He is a good doctor though. I really really really like him.

Sunrise Street

STORY:


Our house on Sunrise Street was unique in the neighborhood. A side by side three story duplex with a full basement and attic on a corner lot. One side (my aunt, uncle and three cousins) faced Avis  St. and the other (our half) faced on Sunrise St.. Our half was the only house with a Sunrise St. address. The pitch of the roof brings to mind the look an odd "A" frame Swiss Chalet.

I didn't think of the chalet idea when I was a kid though. I just knew it was a good angle for throwing tennis balls against and catching them as they bounced back down. I did that for hours on end. I guess mom could at least tell where I was from the constant thump, thump, thump on the roof. It must have been a real treat!

My cousins, next door, had a wonderful dog for several years. His name was Shep and he was the very best friend any of us kids in the neighborhood could have. If we went off on an adventure to the woods by the railroad tracks or to snoop around the box factory, he was always there running back and forth between whoever was on the expedition, playfully panting and barking.

I can remember a few times he protected us from getting caught by a worker at the factory or other dogs in the area that were not quite welcoming. One day, when he got really old, he went off by himself, like he did sometimes, and just never came back.

Shep was the best dog ever!


E-MAIL:


Thinking about the old neighborhood today, probably because of Easter coming up and all.
I thought you might like these. Enjoy your Easter weekend.
Love Ya

POEMS:

Shep

The best dog ever was Shep

no pedigree was kept.

multi-dappled, mixed like scrapple,

quick as lightening, to others frightening

With us up and down the street,

Like a downtown cop he’d strut his beat

through the woods, between the tracks

We were his pride, his pack.

Life Was Easy (on Sunrise Street)

It was meant to be an easy task

getting there and coming back

run an errand quick and straight

no complex turns to navigate

Just down the street then up the hill

it shouldn’t be a test of will

so many times we’ve gone before

from Sunrise Street to the corner store

as kids we could ride a bike

trade penny bottles for sweets we like

walk the ledge on the corner church

jump down three feet and roll head first

thats how we learned agility

to roll on hills and climb a tree

of course we had our trips and falls

mistakes, I cannot count them all

It seemed so simple, get milk, a treat

then back up the hill on Avis Street

drop the bike out on the ground

three concrete steps and in we bound