Oh, that this was an option.
let's hit the road
Sunday, September 30, 2012
We have been warned
This weekend the California Department of Transportation (Caltrans) has closed a ten mile section of one of the busiest (250,000 on a typical weekend) sections of freeway in the country. Interstate 405 parallels the freeway we have to take through Los Angeles.
Oh, that this was an option.
Oh, that this was an option.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Just routine
One of those events that is routine at many reunions is the group picture.
Sometimes somebody remembers to take a picture of those taking pictures of the group.
we've been busy
Friday, September 28, 2012
So the schedule has been full
So I guess I have a knack for observing how some folks park vehicles
It was at the hotel.
Then we went down by the waterfront for a stroll.
Last night was a dinner cruise on the bay until after 10pm.
Then we went down by the waterfront for a stroll.
Last night was a dinner cruise on the bay until after 10pm.
maybe more later
Thursday, September 27, 2012
What we saw last night
Maybe I've determined what my issue is with the Blooger interface ...just maybe.
It requires that I change.
WT#?
I already have to get used to change without something I do voluntarily throwing crap at me. Just what is this about somebody who owns something I use telling me how I can use it.
So yeah, I'll get over it. But I'll still call it Blooger when I'mpissed irritated.
I've already managed to make some adjustments.
It requires that I change.
WT#?
I already have to get used to change without something I do voluntarily throwing crap at me. Just what is this about somebody who owns something I use telling me how I can use it.
So yeah, I'll get over it. But I'll still call it Blooger when I'm
just don't have to like it
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Interface angst and other stories
So yesterday I discovered I have to leave a line break between paragraphs when I am using this writing program to create blog posts. Blogger has a tendency to miss those things when text is copied and pasted. I forgot that there is a preview window that's far superior to what used to be the preview.
A month or so ago I received a call from a fellow Lion and member of the Council of Governors from '07-'08. He has a cousin in San Francisco who has season tickets to the Giants, would I be interested in going to the game on Friday night, September 21.
My first thought was, “Does a bear....?” So I said let me check my schedule ...meaning I will adjust any other plans so I can attend ...and then said, “Sure!”
He said he was also inviting another Lion from the Council. Then he explained how this would work.
First, we wouldn't have to worry about driving home after the game. We would be his cousin's guests at his club. Information will be emailed regarding our stay. Second, It seems his cousin doesn't just have season tickets. He has a share in a luxury suite at AT&T Park, behind the visitors dugout and toward home plate, next to the Giants owners suite.
How cool was that!
The next step was I contacted the other invitee, who lives just south of Sacramento, and told him I'd pick him up since it is almost on the way and it doesn't make a lot of sense to me to take any more cars into San Francisco than absolutely necessary. We left it at that.
A couple of days later I received the email about our accommodations at the cousin's club. It's a gentleman’s club, has a pretty exclusive membership, has a rule about no cash changing hands. All services are signed for and guests are not allowed to pay. The host is responsible for all of the guests expenses. Say what? Oh yeah, and guests are to wear a coat and tie at all times in the common areas except when arriving or departing. Weekends are only slightly more casual. I can live with that. Except for the tie. I will just stay out of the common areas except when arriving or departing.
Did I mention this club is at the top of Nob Hill surrounded by, the Fairmont Hotel, the Mark Hopkins Hotel, the Masonic Auditorium, and Grace Cathedral.
Just a brief editorial comment ...best expressed in a picture.
I'd write more but it's way past time to think about packing for the road. Enjoy some pictures for the next few days …and maybe a little commentary.
First, we wouldn't have to worry about driving home after the game. We would be his cousin's guests at his club. Information will be emailed regarding our stay. Second, It seems his cousin doesn't just have season tickets. He has a share in a luxury suite at AT&T Park, behind the visitors dugout and toward home plate, next to the Giants owners suite.
How cool was that!
The next step was I contacted the other invitee, who lives just south of Sacramento, and told him I'd pick him up since it is almost on the way and it doesn't make a lot of sense to me to take any more cars into San Francisco than absolutely necessary. We left it at that.
A couple of days later I received the email about our accommodations at the cousin's club. It's a gentleman’s club, has a pretty exclusive membership, has a rule about no cash changing hands. All services are signed for and guests are not allowed to pay. The host is responsible for all of the guests expenses. Say what? Oh yeah, and guests are to wear a coat and tie at all times in the common areas except when arriving or departing. Weekends are only slightly more casual. I can live with that. Except for the tie. I will just stay out of the common areas except when arriving or departing.
there's more pictures
Monday, September 24, 2012
Some things have changed
So I have made at least one adjustment.
I'm now writing my blog posts in a word processing program because I do not like the blogger interface for creating the written part of my posts. Before they switched me, it was relatively instinctive. Now I'm not sure what to expect. That, and everything's been relocated. I'm sure I could make a switch to some other blogging platform. Maybe I would if I considered myself some kind of literary genius. Instead I will stay right here and find other ways to adjust. Change happens.
So... here's the situation. GS noted she had lost a little more weight than what she felt was optimum over about a six-month time period. She was also feeling a little fatigued.
When we returned from Boston she went to our primary care physician and made her concerns known to him. The Dr. ordered the usual routine lab tests and had her go for a mammogram (I think it was here first ever) and a chest x-ray. The lab work and mammogram showed nothing with which to be concerned. The x-ray was another issue. The wonderful folks you never meet, called radiologists, observed some anomalies and notified our Dr. that GS should come back for a CT scan. In fact they had her back the same afternoon as the x-ray. The CT scan showed there is an aneurism. Well actually there are two, but nobody seems a bit concerned about one of them. It is on the lower part of the descending aorta at present is something that will be observed, much as it would be if it were all there is. No action will be taken on it unless it grows bigger, much bigger. It is the other aneurism that's raised the red flag. It is in the arch between the ascending and the descending aorta, directly behind the heart, at the point where three other major arteries connect. There are a bunch of nerves nearby and the esophagus, too. On top of that, it is big... really big... scary big. Surgery big. The good news is: One – we know it's there. In most cases they are not discovered until they have ruptured and by then it is usually too late. Two – it is not so critical that the surgery has to be rushed. It just has to be done.
Our Dr. referred us to a vascular surgeon in Redding (because that's where the hospitals are), who also happens to be the main guy at the hospital. He introduced himself to GS and then turned to me. I said, “I'm Skip.” He said, “I'm Ed.” I knew I was going to like him. His first question was, “So, how did you find this?” GS told him the story. Then he broke out the pictures from the CT scan and showed us just what was what and said how lucky she is and how it can be repaired. Then he said they don't do that particular repair up here in Northern California, not because they can't, but because they may only see one a year and they need more practice to be proficient enough to do it. He told us he'd refer us to a really good Doc in Sacramento who knows all about these things. He also recommended that another blood pressure medication be added to help reduce the stress on the blood vessels.
The Sacramento Doc's office called the next day (a Friday) to begin arrangements for a consultation after Sac Doc had a chance to see the pictures, which he can access and download online (how freakin' cool is that?) so we don't have to carry huge envelopes back and forth. Our doc had GS in (yeah, I went, too). He gave us his interpretation, prescribed the Beta blocker recommended by vascular doctor and was pleased that she brought the pictures so he could see, too. Then he had one of his Pas (Physicians Assistants) come in to see it, too, because neither of them had experience with aneurisms, at least not at the early [sic] stage.
Sac Doc's office called again at the beginning of the week and asked if GS would be able to come down on Thursday for the consultation. GS asked me, while I was thinking they couldn't keep us away, and it was tentatively set for Thursday afternoon at 2pm, but we should call at 11am to confirm Sac Doc would be available. I guess he's kinda busy at what he does? They didn't want us to make a futile trip. Imagine taking the distance we have to travel into consideration. I was already liking him even before setting eyes on his office.
So at 11am they said, “Come on down.” And we did. We were early by about 20 minutes or so and Sac Doc was delayed because he was seeing a patient nearby. But the office staff kept us informed. I don't think we felt we were inconvenienced by the delay. It was more like we were comfortable knowing he was giving his patients as much time as needed. More points for the Doc. His nurse was really good, too, and it was fairly obvious she was up to speed regarding GS case. But then I suppose she would be because she was the one who GS talked to on the phone. Doc came in and talked with us for awhile explaining even more what the situation is and what his options are. He is quite pleased with GS's physical shape. He expected mush less. He then took us both out to a computer monitor to show us a 3D image of the bulge. That showed a lot more than the flat images we'd already seen. He further explained what He though he might be able to do, depending on certain other factors. I will drive her back to Sacramento on October 2 for a different battery of tests to find out just what may preclude some of the options. That trip will involve an overnight stay and some sedation.
We were then taken by his nurse, her name's Amy, across the hall to visit the scheduler for the cardiologist who'll perform at least some of the next tests. We'll call him Cardio Doc. We get to keep regular hours because they're going to start at noon. I don't know if this is an accommodation to us, or if it's because they like to sleep in. Whatever it is, we benefit somewhat. As it turns out, even if we didn't have plans to be away this next week, none of the testing or further planning would take place until after the 2nd anyway. That's because both doctors down there will be away for the week. We were told to enjoy our trip
What? Haven't I explained the trip? We're driving to San Diego for a shipmates reunion. Former members of the ship I sailed in get together someplace in the states each year to do who knows what. We'd probably visit the ship, but it's somewhere on the bottom of the Arabian Sea. The U. S. sold it to the Pakistanis. It was part of their navy for awhile. Then they decided it would make a better target. Anyway, I may get some nice pictures while we're down south. There may also be some posts because I do plan to take the laptop.
I may post about Friday night tomorrow. That's a whole entire 'nother story.
So... here's the situation. GS noted she had lost a little more weight than what she felt was optimum over about a six-month time period. She was also feeling a little fatigued.
When we returned from Boston she went to our primary care physician and made her concerns known to him. The Dr. ordered the usual routine lab tests and had her go for a mammogram (I think it was here first ever) and a chest x-ray. The lab work and mammogram showed nothing with which to be concerned. The x-ray was another issue. The wonderful folks you never meet, called radiologists, observed some anomalies and notified our Dr. that GS should come back for a CT scan. In fact they had her back the same afternoon as the x-ray. The CT scan showed there is an aneurism. Well actually there are two, but nobody seems a bit concerned about one of them. It is on the lower part of the descending aorta at present is something that will be observed, much as it would be if it were all there is. No action will be taken on it unless it grows bigger, much bigger. It is the other aneurism that's raised the red flag. It is in the arch between the ascending and the descending aorta, directly behind the heart, at the point where three other major arteries connect. There are a bunch of nerves nearby and the esophagus, too. On top of that, it is big... really big... scary big. Surgery big. The good news is: One – we know it's there. In most cases they are not discovered until they have ruptured and by then it is usually too late. Two – it is not so critical that the surgery has to be rushed. It just has to be done.
Our Dr. referred us to a vascular surgeon in Redding (because that's where the hospitals are), who also happens to be the main guy at the hospital. He introduced himself to GS and then turned to me. I said, “I'm Skip.” He said, “I'm Ed.” I knew I was going to like him. His first question was, “So, how did you find this?” GS told him the story. Then he broke out the pictures from the CT scan and showed us just what was what and said how lucky she is and how it can be repaired. Then he said they don't do that particular repair up here in Northern California, not because they can't, but because they may only see one a year and they need more practice to be proficient enough to do it. He told us he'd refer us to a really good Doc in Sacramento who knows all about these things. He also recommended that another blood pressure medication be added to help reduce the stress on the blood vessels.
The Sacramento Doc's office called the next day (a Friday) to begin arrangements for a consultation after Sac Doc had a chance to see the pictures, which he can access and download online (how freakin' cool is that?) so we don't have to carry huge envelopes back and forth. Our doc had GS in (yeah, I went, too). He gave us his interpretation, prescribed the Beta blocker recommended by vascular doctor and was pleased that she brought the pictures so he could see, too. Then he had one of his Pas (Physicians Assistants) come in to see it, too, because neither of them had experience with aneurisms, at least not at the early [sic] stage.
Sac Doc's office called again at the beginning of the week and asked if GS would be able to come down on Thursday for the consultation. GS asked me, while I was thinking they couldn't keep us away, and it was tentatively set for Thursday afternoon at 2pm, but we should call at 11am to confirm Sac Doc would be available. I guess he's kinda busy at what he does? They didn't want us to make a futile trip. Imagine taking the distance we have to travel into consideration. I was already liking him even before setting eyes on his office.
So at 11am they said, “Come on down.” And we did. We were early by about 20 minutes or so and Sac Doc was delayed because he was seeing a patient nearby. But the office staff kept us informed. I don't think we felt we were inconvenienced by the delay. It was more like we were comfortable knowing he was giving his patients as much time as needed. More points for the Doc. His nurse was really good, too, and it was fairly obvious she was up to speed regarding GS case. But then I suppose she would be because she was the one who GS talked to on the phone. Doc came in and talked with us for awhile explaining even more what the situation is and what his options are. He is quite pleased with GS's physical shape. He expected mush less. He then took us both out to a computer monitor to show us a 3D image of the bulge. That showed a lot more than the flat images we'd already seen. He further explained what He though he might be able to do, depending on certain other factors. I will drive her back to Sacramento on October 2 for a different battery of tests to find out just what may preclude some of the options. That trip will involve an overnight stay and some sedation.
We were then taken by his nurse, her name's Amy, across the hall to visit the scheduler for the cardiologist who'll perform at least some of the next tests. We'll call him Cardio Doc. We get to keep regular hours because they're going to start at noon. I don't know if this is an accommodation to us, or if it's because they like to sleep in. Whatever it is, we benefit somewhat. As it turns out, even if we didn't have plans to be away this next week, none of the testing or further planning would take place until after the 2nd anyway. That's because both doctors down there will be away for the week. We were told to enjoy our trip
What? Haven't I explained the trip? We're driving to San Diego for a shipmates reunion. Former members of the ship I sailed in get together someplace in the states each year to do who knows what. We'd probably visit the ship, but it's somewhere on the bottom of the Arabian Sea. The U. S. sold it to the Pakistanis. It was part of their navy for awhile. Then they decided it would make a better target. Anyway, I may get some nice pictures while we're down south. There may also be some posts because I do plan to take the laptop.
...and about as exciting as watching bread rise
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Okay, look, I'd really like to write a post giving the rundown on what going on, but time is limited because we're getting ready to leave for Southern California to gloat attend a ship's reunion in San Diego. I have no idea what to expect.
If I catch up with all the other things that need to be done before we leave Tuesday, a little updating may get done. I can say this much, the specialist we saw on Thursday told us to have a good time.
Something we missed on Friday. I was somewhere on the road, heading for Sacramento before going on to SF.
Everything I heard about the flyover of the shuttle, wherever it went, said it was spectacular.
Something we missed on Friday. I was somewhere on the road, heading for Sacramento before going on to SF.
Everything I heard about the flyover of the shuttle, wherever it went, said it was spectacular.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Because you might've missed it
There were only a couple of hours where they only needed the one game to clinch, here's Tim Flannery, the Giants third base coach, assisting the home plate umpire make a call against the Cubs at Wrigley.
Opportunity missed
Because I was away ...watching a Giants game, thank you very much ... I was unable to post the #2 picture. I will put up for you now.
That's Emmanuel "Manny" Burriss, an infielder. You might ask why I picked him. It's simple. He is an active player on the current roster. The only time I haven't used active players is when the number has been retired. Probably the most famous of Giants to wear the number two was Leo Durocher.
Maybe I will get around to posting about last night's game later.
If the Giants win tonight, they clinch the Western Division.
That's Emmanuel "Manny" Burriss, an infielder. You might ask why I picked him. It's simple. He is an active player on the current roster. The only time I haven't used active players is when the number has been retired. Probably the most famous of Giants to wear the number two was Leo Durocher.
Maybe I will get around to posting about last night's game later.
If the Giants win tonight, they clinch the Western Division.
Friday, September 21, 2012
So... here we are again,,,
Has anyone else had their interface with blogger changed. I'm not liking this one bit. There's enough other stuff going on.
I suppose I should further explain yesterday's second post. We knew we were going to see the specialist in Sac. We just didn't have confirmation that the appointment would happen at the time scheduled. As a consideration to us, for the time and distance involved, his office had us call at 11 to confirm he would be available at 2. So there was no panic involved.
I was a consultation...basically setting up a game plan. Kinda like peeling away the outer layer of an onion. We know a lot more now. But, there's still a lot more to know. We go back October 2. There are more tests. We should learn more.
Thanks for the good thoughts and prayers.
In other news... my clever graphic stuff over in the sidebar tells me the Giants magic number for clinching is 3 (I couldn't find a picture of Bill Terry that showed his number). Had I had the opportunity to recognize the number 4 this picture of Mel Ott would have been there.
I have two more ready to go. Bu,t by the time I have a chance to use them it might just be over.
I get to drive to Sacramento again today... actually it's Elk Grove, but that's only just beyond Sac. I am picking up another Lions Clubs member, who I served on the Council of Governors with. We are then driving to San Francisco to meet up with a third member from that council and attending the Giants game tonight. (this was set up well over a month ago and all of our wives encouraged us to go)
Tomorrow, before I come back, I will stop to see my daughter, son-in-law, and the perfect grandson. They are painting the interior of their house.
I don't know when I will get home...
Has anyone else had their interface with blogger changed. I'm not liking this one bit. There's enough other stuff going on.
I suppose I should further explain yesterday's second post. We knew we were going to see the specialist in Sac. We just didn't have confirmation that the appointment would happen at the time scheduled. As a consideration to us, for the time and distance involved, his office had us call at 11 to confirm he would be available at 2. So there was no panic involved.
I was a consultation...basically setting up a game plan. Kinda like peeling away the outer layer of an onion. We know a lot more now. But, there's still a lot more to know. We go back October 2. There are more tests. We should learn more.
Thanks for the good thoughts and prayers.
In other news... my clever graphic stuff over in the sidebar tells me the Giants magic number for clinching is 3 (I couldn't find a picture of Bill Terry that showed his number). Had I had the opportunity to recognize the number 4 this picture of Mel Ott would have been there.
I have two more ready to go. Bu,t by the time I have a chance to use them it might just be over.
I get to drive to Sacramento again today... actually it's Elk Grove, but that's only just beyond Sac. I am picking up another Lions Clubs member, who I served on the Council of Governors with. We are then driving to San Francisco to meet up with a third member from that council and attending the Giants game tonight. (this was set up well over a month ago and all of our wives encouraged us to go)
Tomorrow, before I come back, I will stop to see my daughter, son-in-law, and the perfect grandson. They are painting the interior of their house.
I don't know when I will get home...
...really hate this interface
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Mad dashes and altered plans
ǝɹǝɥ uʍop ǝpısdn ǝןʇʇıן ɐ ǝɹɐ sbuıɥʇ ɥɐǝʎ ˙˙˙os
Okay the title is a little extreme.
It's more like allow for changes to plans, extended drives on short notice, and hope for the best.
We're off to Sacramento to see a "specialist" this afternoon.
Okay the title is a little extreme.
It's more like allow for changes to plans, extended drives on short notice, and hope for the best.
We're off to Sacramento to see a "specialist" this afternoon.
This is called something
I'm not sure what. I was at the supermarket yesterday and watched the
I thought of all kinds of things to say.
I didn't say a one of them.
As some of my friends would say, "That's progress."
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Aaaargh!
Yeah, yeah ITLAPD isn't 'til tomorrow. But I'd be remiss if I wasn't doin' everything possible to help y'all prepare. So without further explanation here's my contribution for today.
You, too, can learn to draw the image.
any similarity between
the character in the image
and the Oldham Pirate
is purely coincidental
the character in the image
and the Oldham Pirate
is purely coincidental
Monday, September 17, 2012
Let's not jump to any conclusions
There's a story here about a huge heist of some maple syrup. Anyone reading this story might conclude they know what happened. The fact that they both appeared on my sidebar at about the same time is purely coincidence.
Then there was this...
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Today
I was worried I was going to have to choose between watching the Giants at Diamondbacks or Lions at 49ers.
Then I looked at the schedules.
There's no conflict.
Good!
I hate making important decisions.
Today's photo is quite similar to the one posted here. We had all picked a most propitious moment to take pictures of the bridge.
nice place to visit
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Reminder
Speaking of reminders...
I forgot:
Now, before I forget...
September 19th is talk like a pirate day.
Wait... I mean it's Talk Like A Pirate Day.
It's as good a time as any to remind everyone about this [yeah, I know he started on October 19 last year]
Then there's this
I forgot:
1. that Friday the 13th was on Thursday this month
2. to follow that up with a Sure Happy It's Thursday
Now, before I forget...
September 19th is talk like a pirate day.
Wait... I mean it's Talk Like A Pirate Day.
It's as good a time as any to remind everyone about this [yeah, I know he started on October 19 last year]
Then there's this
yeah, he said bacon
Friday, September 14, 2012
Seven different decades (cont'd still further)
We will try to conclude this now. And yes I see that I dragged the eighties out far too long, but it's okay because they were all about me and everything runs together anyway. As you will see.
And it was the Nineties somewhere in the middle of that c-store thing. Time flies when you're having fun. I finally remembered just what song goes through my head during the previous decade
Don't read anything into the words. There are no fingers being pointed or no accusations made. But, there is something inside so strong. What else was there? Oh yeah, I'd been a Lions Club member for awhile. GS decided since I was turning 50 we should have a birthday party. It couldn't be at our house because we'd commenced a remodeling project that was not quite finished. Besides, there were going to be too many people for the house (over 100), from Lions, from softball, family – hers and mine (but not my kids), and work. First they did a roast and then we did karaoke... and there were some adult beverages. Life through the nineties was mostly smooth sailing, with a nice balance of work, home life, and Lions. Lions blends fairly well with the social aspect, too. And there were no bumps in the road or detours through the end of the decade.
Then came the Millenium, and a little bit of discomfiture. Life wasn't as it should be. Work was in the way. Some things were missing. An itch needed scratching. I quit my job. My immediate supervisor called it retirement. It turns out he knew more than I. I didn't seek another. The company actually had a small going away party and there's a watch somewhere. I played more golf and my game improved a little, though I still haven't broke a hundred... unless you count the times I only played nine holes. I stepped up participation in Lions at the district level. I had been doing the district newsletter for a year or so after inheriting it because of another Lion having a bypass operation. Now I was attending leadership retreats and organizational meetings. Some Lions even wanted to know what I thought. Then some planes flew into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and one crashed in Pennsylvania and the world was changed again... forever. And I was drinking a lot. Then I got a wake up call that took a little while to recognize and I stopped drinking entirely. Now the world is a better place, really, and I know the Serenity Prayer by heart. I got an email. Holy merciful Mother of God! It was from my daughter. It said, “Hello Dad,” and I was a basket case for a few minutes. Then I answered the best I could and I love my daughter very much for being a wonderful person. A year or two later she apologized for not inviting me to her wedding that spring. I understood. I'd been away too long. The blend of families would be awkward. Another year later and I was one of the first to know I had a grandson. The less I tried to run things, the more they ran better, the more new friends I had. By 2006 Lions in the district decided to elect me to a huge leadership position and I kept reminding them that I was only there to remind them they were in control and how they could do it. In 2007 I was District Governor and got to visit all of the clubs in the district and a number of other districts in California with other District Governors. We made some important decisions, too. Like not to make some changes for the sake of change. Not that some issues didn't come up. Then my hand started to stop feeling. It was numb... in the worst sense of the word... and weak. My doc referred me to a neurologist, who tested and found some short circuiting at the elbow that explained some of it. He said compressed ulnar nerve and referred me to a neurosurgeon (because the orthopedic surgeon wasn't on the insurance company’s “appoved physicians” list. The surgeon interviewed me further and questioned the diagnosis. He agreed thee was an issue with the ulnar nerve, but thought there was more and sent me for an MRI. That's the one where they send you through a tunnel while operating jack hammers all around. Neurosurgeon operated on the elbow, where the ulnar nerve is, and found the nerve wasn't actually compressed, but all mixed up in scar tissue. He did what he could about it. Then on the follow-up he suggested that I would need another surgery. This time on my spine, in the neck area, specifically a fusion of the discs at C-2, C-3 and C-4, because I had a narrowing of the spinal column called spinal stenosis. Ironically, I knew this because it had been diagnosed about ten years earlier when I had some pain issues in my left arm. That had been treated with anti-interrogatories and had gone away (I thought). This time surgery was being recommended. I was not amused, but by the same token it explained the numbness that wasn't there because of the ulnar nerve. I went back to the neurologist for a follow-up visit. I told him what the neurosurgeon had told me about the fusion. He was almost incredulous. Then he asked about the MRI and realized he could access it online through the computer on his desk. He looked very carefully, asked a few questions. Like, was I having any pain? No. Was I having trouble walking? No. He didn't ask if I could pass a roadside sobriety test. I have had to say no to that, too, because I couldn't walk a straight line or balance on one leg. In the end, after a detailed look at the images, he reluctantly told me he agreed with the neurosurgeon. I should have the surgery on my back. So now I was the reluctant one. It took a couple of months to finally convince me. Surgery isn't so scary (there've been a few), but back surgery is really scary, particularly cervical surgery where they go in from the throat side. So then I go in about four days before the surgery and the doc says, “By the way, if you don't quit smoking, I'm not going to do the surgery.” So now I've stopped smoking, too, for the second time in my life. We'll see if it lasts this time. It's only been four years. And I started a blog.
Now we're in the teens and I have new teeth. My twin cousin, our wives, and I have started a tradition of getting together on our birthday, and there are some current experiences we'd rather not have.
Back in the first post I mentioned John Dewar & Sons. Then further along said, "I don't drink that brand of Scotch any more." So I should clarify two things
And it was the Nineties somewhere in the middle of that c-store thing. Time flies when you're having fun. I finally remembered just what song goes through my head during the previous decade
Don't read anything into the words. There are no fingers being pointed or no accusations made. But, there is something inside so strong. What else was there? Oh yeah, I'd been a Lions Club member for awhile. GS decided since I was turning 50 we should have a birthday party. It couldn't be at our house because we'd commenced a remodeling project that was not quite finished. Besides, there were going to be too many people for the house (over 100), from Lions, from softball, family – hers and mine (but not my kids), and work. First they did a roast and then we did karaoke... and there were some adult beverages. Life through the nineties was mostly smooth sailing, with a nice balance of work, home life, and Lions. Lions blends fairly well with the social aspect, too. And there were no bumps in the road or detours through the end of the decade.
Then came the Millenium, and a little bit of discomfiture. Life wasn't as it should be. Work was in the way. Some things were missing. An itch needed scratching. I quit my job. My immediate supervisor called it retirement. It turns out he knew more than I. I didn't seek another. The company actually had a small going away party and there's a watch somewhere. I played more golf and my game improved a little, though I still haven't broke a hundred... unless you count the times I only played nine holes. I stepped up participation in Lions at the district level. I had been doing the district newsletter for a year or so after inheriting it because of another Lion having a bypass operation. Now I was attending leadership retreats and organizational meetings. Some Lions even wanted to know what I thought. Then some planes flew into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and one crashed in Pennsylvania and the world was changed again... forever. And I was drinking a lot. Then I got a wake up call that took a little while to recognize and I stopped drinking entirely. Now the world is a better place, really, and I know the Serenity Prayer by heart. I got an email. Holy merciful Mother of God! It was from my daughter. It said, “Hello Dad,” and I was a basket case for a few minutes. Then I answered the best I could and I love my daughter very much for being a wonderful person. A year or two later she apologized for not inviting me to her wedding that spring. I understood. I'd been away too long. The blend of families would be awkward. Another year later and I was one of the first to know I had a grandson. The less I tried to run things, the more they ran better, the more new friends I had. By 2006 Lions in the district decided to elect me to a huge leadership position and I kept reminding them that I was only there to remind them they were in control and how they could do it. In 2007 I was District Governor and got to visit all of the clubs in the district and a number of other districts in California with other District Governors. We made some important decisions, too. Like not to make some changes for the sake of change. Not that some issues didn't come up. Then my hand started to stop feeling. It was numb... in the worst sense of the word... and weak. My doc referred me to a neurologist, who tested and found some short circuiting at the elbow that explained some of it. He said compressed ulnar nerve and referred me to a neurosurgeon (because the orthopedic surgeon wasn't on the insurance company’s “appoved physicians” list. The surgeon interviewed me further and questioned the diagnosis. He agreed thee was an issue with the ulnar nerve, but thought there was more and sent me for an MRI. That's the one where they send you through a tunnel while operating jack hammers all around. Neurosurgeon operated on the elbow, where the ulnar nerve is, and found the nerve wasn't actually compressed, but all mixed up in scar tissue. He did what he could about it. Then on the follow-up he suggested that I would need another surgery. This time on my spine, in the neck area, specifically a fusion of the discs at C-2, C-3 and C-4, because I had a narrowing of the spinal column called spinal stenosis. Ironically, I knew this because it had been diagnosed about ten years earlier when I had some pain issues in my left arm. That had been treated with anti-interrogatories and had gone away (I thought). This time surgery was being recommended. I was not amused, but by the same token it explained the numbness that wasn't there because of the ulnar nerve. I went back to the neurologist for a follow-up visit. I told him what the neurosurgeon had told me about the fusion. He was almost incredulous. Then he asked about the MRI and realized he could access it online through the computer on his desk. He looked very carefully, asked a few questions. Like, was I having any pain? No. Was I having trouble walking? No. He didn't ask if I could pass a roadside sobriety test. I have had to say no to that, too, because I couldn't walk a straight line or balance on one leg. In the end, after a detailed look at the images, he reluctantly told me he agreed with the neurosurgeon. I should have the surgery on my back. So now I was the reluctant one. It took a couple of months to finally convince me. Surgery isn't so scary (there've been a few), but back surgery is really scary, particularly cervical surgery where they go in from the throat side. So then I go in about four days before the surgery and the doc says, “By the way, if you don't quit smoking, I'm not going to do the surgery.” So now I've stopped smoking, too, for the second time in my life. We'll see if it lasts this time. It's only been four years. And I started a blog.
Now we're in the teens and I have new teeth. My twin cousin, our wives, and I have started a tradition of getting together on our birthday, and there are some current experiences we'd rather not have.
Back in the first post I mentioned John Dewar & Sons. Then further along said, "I don't drink that brand of Scotch any more." So I should clarify two things 1. It was not Dewar's that I meant.Please write your evaluations on $50 bills, place them in a #10 envelope, put that in a large leather pack saddle, and secure that to a pack mule with a diamond hitch. It knows its way here.
2. I don't drink any brand of Scotch any more, but if I did...
th... th... that's all folks
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Seven different decades (cont'd)
By now some of you have realized that the only real structure to this is that each decade is a single paragraph. Today we carry it a step further and give the eighties their own post. Sick, isn't it?
I had thought about writing this as one big run-on sentence ...because, you know, life doesn't have any full stops.
The Eighties began, but nothing changed, least of all me. No, that's wrong. I started drinking more. There was easy access to beer. Heck there were faucets full of the stuff. I kept trying, but when it went well at work, it wasn't so good at home. When things were good on the home front, it blew up at work, but it was all about family one way or another. I was being buried and didn't even realize it. All of it went away, or I went away without ever leaving. Even professional help didn't clear up in my mind what happened. It was almost like a parallel universe where everything I ever wanted was right there and I couldn't reach it. Suddenly I was alone, like nobody can imagine, and everything I ever knew was wrong. It hadn't become wrong overnight. That happened subtly. On top of that I still had to work with all these folks... until I could be dumped, which was not a simple task. So I was in a fog for another year, and stuck, too. We had joint custody but the specifics had never been spelled out and it was never convenient for me to visit the kids or have them with me, and I went along [that's as much as I'm going to say]. Then during this time my youngest daughter got sick. It started with Strep Throat, turned into Rheumatic Fever, and she never quite totally got better. Then one day she had a lump the size of a softball on her side, a Wilms Tumor. Her kidney had a congenital thing that only develops once in awhile. And I was hearing about all of this second hand. When I did them them, it hurt. Hurt like nothing I've ever known, before or since. It still hurts because I could have done something and didn't. That's what poor choices will get for you. I was at loose ends. Somebody asked me to join the Lions Club. That took care of one night a week and whatever days there were projects. And someone else got me onto a softball team, so there was another night and some weekend tournaments filled in. And there was always beer in the fridge. I had never really been fond of the telephone, but I absolutely learned to hate it because it always seemed to be bad news... always. About the only thing worse than receiving a call was making one. It would take me hours, even days to pick it up to call my ex and the kids. After months of treatment and surgery, my daughter went into remission. And I'd been introduced to someone who was also alone now. Well, except she had three kids, a boy and two girls. We talked a lot. Then we spent a lot of time together. I mean I had an apartment where my stuff was, but for all intents and purposes I was living in her house with her kids, helping to buy groceries and beer, and the occasional bottle of wine. Our first official date was a Lions Club Convention dinner. Then her divorce was final and she had to move from the house. Besides the son had joined the Navy and the middle daughter got married and the house was too big. I'd received a lump sum from profit sharing, or some such, so I found a place in Anderson that I could assume the loan, because I was presently unemployed and pretty much unable to qualify for a loan. We, me, she and her youngest daughter, became a household. Then the phone rang again because there were more tumors and my daughter was back in the U.C. Davis Medical Center in Sacramento. Then she was home, then back, and home and back. And then a phone call in July. She died. And I didn't know what to do, except cry. Maybe I didn't cry as much as when the family split. There was a memorial service and I found out how much a lot of people cared about me. Enough even that one of them wore a suit. I been successful in business before. Shit! I could do it again. First off I worked for a guy who cleaned carpets... enough to know I never wanted to be a carpet cleaner. The I hooked into a computerized sign making business, back before Windows and Mac. It was almost a success. About the time I was getting enough repeat business to sustain things, the landlord sold the building and I had to move. By that time I had also grabbed a small grocery that sold gasoline in Red Bluff. It was just a step up from a convenience store, but I couldn't find a way to merge the two businesses so the sign shop is somewhere in the attic. Then after about a year the grocery's landlord wanted to sell that building and, while I wasn't losing money, I wasn't exactly making wages, I cut loose. It just so happened my fuel supplier, the local Exxon jobber, was looking for some employees for his Red Bluff C-store and he asked if any of my employees would be interested in working there. I told him I'd ask. They all said no. I said I'd work there until I could find something permanent. Within weeks my employer was at my daughter's memorial service and paying me for bereavement time. And I was finding out that I had found a really good small company for which to work. Paid holidays from the get-go, sick pay, vacations, profit sharing, health insurance and evaluations such that employees knew where they stood. Because I was new, I had the crappy shift with crappy days off (7pm to 3am and Wednesday & Thursday). I gave them everything I had and was rewarded. Shortly after a year, an opening in Anderson for the manage position became available and they offered it to me. The profit sharing plan became a 401(k) and they paid annual and Christmas bonuses. Oh yeah, and the lady I'd met turned out to be Grandma Skip. The company had some issues with their c-store in Corning so they started transferring folks (read managers and assistants) around. I was given a temporary position in the downtown Redding location while the regular manager straightened out some personal issues. Then I moved into a sales positional in the main office. Sales is not my forté, but I can drive the heck out of a forklift.Before too long I was back on the retail side, bouncing from one location to another and learning which co-workers I wanted to strangle and developing my motto:
(yeah, more tomorrow... and we pick a new them song)
I had thought about writing this as one big run-on sentence ...because, you know, life doesn't have any full stops.
The Eighties began, but nothing changed, least of all me. No, that's wrong. I started drinking more. There was easy access to beer. Heck there were faucets full of the stuff. I kept trying, but when it went well at work, it wasn't so good at home. When things were good on the home front, it blew up at work, but it was all about family one way or another. I was being buried and didn't even realize it. All of it went away, or I went away without ever leaving. Even professional help didn't clear up in my mind what happened. It was almost like a parallel universe where everything I ever wanted was right there and I couldn't reach it. Suddenly I was alone, like nobody can imagine, and everything I ever knew was wrong. It hadn't become wrong overnight. That happened subtly. On top of that I still had to work with all these folks... until I could be dumped, which was not a simple task. So I was in a fog for another year, and stuck, too. We had joint custody but the specifics had never been spelled out and it was never convenient for me to visit the kids or have them with me, and I went along [that's as much as I'm going to say]. Then during this time my youngest daughter got sick. It started with Strep Throat, turned into Rheumatic Fever, and she never quite totally got better. Then one day she had a lump the size of a softball on her side, a Wilms Tumor. Her kidney had a congenital thing that only develops once in awhile. And I was hearing about all of this second hand. When I did them them, it hurt. Hurt like nothing I've ever known, before or since. It still hurts because I could have done something and didn't. That's what poor choices will get for you. I was at loose ends. Somebody asked me to join the Lions Club. That took care of one night a week and whatever days there were projects. And someone else got me onto a softball team, so there was another night and some weekend tournaments filled in. And there was always beer in the fridge. I had never really been fond of the telephone, but I absolutely learned to hate it because it always seemed to be bad news... always. About the only thing worse than receiving a call was making one. It would take me hours, even days to pick it up to call my ex and the kids. After months of treatment and surgery, my daughter went into remission. And I'd been introduced to someone who was also alone now. Well, except she had three kids, a boy and two girls. We talked a lot. Then we spent a lot of time together. I mean I had an apartment where my stuff was, but for all intents and purposes I was living in her house with her kids, helping to buy groceries and beer, and the occasional bottle of wine. Our first official date was a Lions Club Convention dinner. Then her divorce was final and she had to move from the house. Besides the son had joined the Navy and the middle daughter got married and the house was too big. I'd received a lump sum from profit sharing, or some such, so I found a place in Anderson that I could assume the loan, because I was presently unemployed and pretty much unable to qualify for a loan. We, me, she and her youngest daughter, became a household. Then the phone rang again because there were more tumors and my daughter was back in the U.C. Davis Medical Center in Sacramento. Then she was home, then back, and home and back. And then a phone call in July. She died. And I didn't know what to do, except cry. Maybe I didn't cry as much as when the family split. There was a memorial service and I found out how much a lot of people cared about me. Enough even that one of them wore a suit. I been successful in business before. Shit! I could do it again. First off I worked for a guy who cleaned carpets... enough to know I never wanted to be a carpet cleaner. The I hooked into a computerized sign making business, back before Windows and Mac. It was almost a success. About the time I was getting enough repeat business to sustain things, the landlord sold the building and I had to move. By that time I had also grabbed a small grocery that sold gasoline in Red Bluff. It was just a step up from a convenience store, but I couldn't find a way to merge the two businesses so the sign shop is somewhere in the attic. Then after about a year the grocery's landlord wanted to sell that building and, while I wasn't losing money, I wasn't exactly making wages, I cut loose. It just so happened my fuel supplier, the local Exxon jobber, was looking for some employees for his Red Bluff C-store and he asked if any of my employees would be interested in working there. I told him I'd ask. They all said no. I said I'd work there until I could find something permanent. Within weeks my employer was at my daughter's memorial service and paying me for bereavement time. And I was finding out that I had found a really good small company for which to work. Paid holidays from the get-go, sick pay, vacations, profit sharing, health insurance and evaluations such that employees knew where they stood. Because I was new, I had the crappy shift with crappy days off (7pm to 3am and Wednesday & Thursday). I gave them everything I had and was rewarded. Shortly after a year, an opening in Anderson for the manage position became available and they offered it to me. The profit sharing plan became a 401(k) and they paid annual and Christmas bonuses. Oh yeah, and the lady I'd met turned out to be Grandma Skip. The company had some issues with their c-store in Corning so they started transferring folks (read managers and assistants) around. I was given a temporary position in the downtown Redding location while the regular manager straightened out some personal issues. Then I moved into a sales positional in the main office. Sales is not my forté, but I can drive the heck out of a forklift.Before too long I was back on the retail side, bouncing from one location to another and learning which co-workers I wanted to strangle and developing my motto:
This job would be great ...if it wasn't for the customers.
let's rest some more
(yeah, more tomorrow... and we pick a new them song)
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
As promised - Seven different decades
I mentioned awhile back, after I came of with some theme music, that I'd write a brief synopsis of the decades of my life.
Did you know brief is subjective, in that what is brief to me may not be what you would consider brief. Hence you will find this is going to run on for a day or so. On the other hand, that may be a good thing.
The following does follow a certain chronology, but is not exact... and please do not attempt to read between the lines. Also, if anything seems to be self-serving, call me on it.
In the Forties it was all innocence. For sure there was a war, but it was over by the time I was two. I was the center of the Universe. I never knew my father because the plane he was on never made it out of India. But I had two sets of grandparents, my mother, may aunt, my cousin (at least until his brother came along) and my uncle when he came back from the Navy. But by then it was time to go to school and for reality to set in.
The Fifties found us moving into a single family home and suddenly there was an older (by six months) brother and a dad. We moved to the suburbs and became the Cleaver family, sort of. Two new sisters (there weren't any old ones) joined us. My paternal grandfather retired, moved to the suburbs, bought a new Buick, and died from too much smoking (lung cancer). Then my maternal grandmother had the house painted, the kitchen and master bathroom remodeled, and died. A President who seemed like he was around forever. You could like Ike for awhile. The was a paper route that lasted forever and I went to school with a future celebrity, named Jerry and never learned how to play any musical instruments.
Then along came the Seventies... yeah, well the Sixties were kinda like that. Graduated from high school and immediately found myself in the Navy (completely voluntary), being trained and then chasing all over the Pacific Ocean north of the Equator, acquiring a taste for beer, until I was discharged. Then I was at college pursuing an education and fun. I was introduced to John Dewar & Sons. We developed quite a friendship. Sometime during that time I managed to break my leg and tear a ligament, requiring surgery, and to get into a confrontation that required a different hospital stay and found me requiring glasses so I don't see two of everything. I don't drink that brand of scotch any more. I had more fun than anything and found it necessary to work full time. Fortunately, I found a job I really liked in foodservice, working my way from glorified dishwasher to general manager. The only thing that sucked were the six day work weeks and night shifts, with Mondays off. That was in Palo Alto, a college town, working for Round Table Pizza. Late evenings (or early mornings, if you prefer) some co-workers and I made up a group called the Waverly Street Gorilla Players. It was kinda like a soap opera except for some were actually living it. It was titled AS the Pizza Burns... the price of admission was a case of beer or a bottle of Bushmills, and somebody always had a stash of grass. Ironcially I was playing softball on a team made up of police, who, in those days, weren't nearly as cool about grass as today. The decade ended in kind of a fog. I moved a lot, too, finally settling in East Palo Alto, about three blocks from an area known as Whiskey Gulch.
And the Seventies started out that way. There was some sense of direction, kind of like a shotgun blast has a sense of direction. I'd spent that last couple of years training new franchisees and their employees, watching the company grow from 14 pizza shops to over 40 shops, every one a success. I only knew for sure I didn't want to remain just a pizza cook with a title. Opportunities for advancement in the company were pretty slim. I figured maybe I could do better as a franchisee. So the search for the perfect location started at the beginning of the decade. A friend and I spent my days off and vacations seeking a place where we could sink roots, as well as open our own place, Between us we could borrow enough to swing the deal. On top of that, he already owned a successful business and had a degree in marketing. Then, one September we decided we needed a break and took five days vacation in Hawaii. It was kind of a package deal (flight, hotel, airport transfers and welcome party included). We met two young ladies, one of whom became my first wife a couple of years later. The courtship was interesting in that she lived in the San Gabriel Valley (east of L.A.) while I lived 400 miles north. Visits were, literally and figuratively, a trip. Life had become an experiment. WE still looked for a business location, expanding the circle ever wider, and dated the two ladies, as well. My friend's relationship wasn't nearly as serious. We spent more time dating than looking. My relationship became much more serious and there was this big Catholic wedding in Southern California that my bride paid for and we moved into a new apartment in Sunnyvale and really started to get to know each other. She'd had a great job before and didn't like not working [this is important remember it] so she found a job, working Monday through Thursday, ten hours a day. I at least had two days off each week, but they weren't always the same days each week and weren't necessarily consecutive. We made it work. And we were still looking. We thought we'd been all over, but we hadn't headed north. That's when we discovered just how big California really is and that San Francisco isn't in Northern California. It’s close, but no cigar. By this time my good friend was not involved any longer because his business was going gangbusters. But my in-laws were in the picture and were financially able to participate. Just by chance my bride and I happened into Redding, looked around, and made some inquiries. A motel owner put us onto a real estate agent who'd been around town for a long time. He didn't handle commercial property, but knew folks who did. The next thing we knew, we were writing a proposal to lease and the clock started ticking. Then she was pregnant. Then we were packing to move. Then her folks were selling their house. Then her dad was going for training (and I wasn't going to be doing that). Then her folks were moving. Then we were opening the doors to our pizza place and we were so busy we were working 12-14 hours a day because we had to train out new employees as we went along.”Holy Crap!h It was still the first half of the decade and we'd lived a lifetime in a little over two years. Then my son was born and I got to be in the delivery room to witness the miracle of a new life. And business was good. And my brother-in-law and his wife moved there, got his contractors license, and started to build a house for his folks. And my sister-in-law and her husband moved up. She came to work for the pizza place while her husband finished getting his A.A. Degree and went for his electrical contractors license. Before long with all of the young wives we were being overrun with babies [figure of speech]. Just at 20 months after my son was born, I witnessed the birth of daughter number one. We also realized we were going to have to keep up with the population growth in the community and open another restaurant [that's what we called them now]. It just so happened a new shopping center was being developed in Anderson and Round Table had developed to the point where developers were actually seeking them for there centers. So in late 1977 we opened a second shop with not quite the success of the first. And my wife was pregnant again. So early in 1978 I slipped out of work and took my wife to the hospital and witnessed the birth of daughter number two. It was sometime about this time found I was unable to balance work and family. Nor could I separate them. And then we opened a third restaurant so there was even less time and I was stupid.
(to be continued)
Did you know brief is subjective, in that what is brief to me may not be what you would consider brief. Hence you will find this is going to run on for a day or so. On the other hand, that may be a good thing.
The following does follow a certain chronology, but is not exact... and please do not attempt to read between the lines. Also, if anything seems to be self-serving, call me on it.
In the Forties it was all innocence. For sure there was a war, but it was over by the time I was two. I was the center of the Universe. I never knew my father because the plane he was on never made it out of India. But I had two sets of grandparents, my mother, may aunt, my cousin (at least until his brother came along) and my uncle when he came back from the Navy. But by then it was time to go to school and for reality to set in.
The Fifties found us moving into a single family home and suddenly there was an older (by six months) brother and a dad. We moved to the suburbs and became the Cleaver family, sort of. Two new sisters (there weren't any old ones) joined us. My paternal grandfather retired, moved to the suburbs, bought a new Buick, and died from too much smoking (lung cancer). Then my maternal grandmother had the house painted, the kitchen and master bathroom remodeled, and died. A President who seemed like he was around forever. You could like Ike for awhile. The was a paper route that lasted forever and I went to school with a future celebrity, named Jerry and never learned how to play any musical instruments.
Then along came the Seventies... yeah, well the Sixties were kinda like that. Graduated from high school and immediately found myself in the Navy (completely voluntary), being trained and then chasing all over the Pacific Ocean north of the Equator, acquiring a taste for beer, until I was discharged. Then I was at college pursuing an education and fun. I was introduced to John Dewar & Sons. We developed quite a friendship. Sometime during that time I managed to break my leg and tear a ligament, requiring surgery, and to get into a confrontation that required a different hospital stay and found me requiring glasses so I don't see two of everything. I don't drink that brand of scotch any more. I had more fun than anything and found it necessary to work full time. Fortunately, I found a job I really liked in foodservice, working my way from glorified dishwasher to general manager. The only thing that sucked were the six day work weeks and night shifts, with Mondays off. That was in Palo Alto, a college town, working for Round Table Pizza. Late evenings (or early mornings, if you prefer) some co-workers and I made up a group called the Waverly Street Gorilla Players. It was kinda like a soap opera except for some were actually living it. It was titled AS the Pizza Burns... the price of admission was a case of beer or a bottle of Bushmills, and somebody always had a stash of grass. Ironcially I was playing softball on a team made up of police, who, in those days, weren't nearly as cool about grass as today. The decade ended in kind of a fog. I moved a lot, too, finally settling in East Palo Alto, about three blocks from an area known as Whiskey Gulch.
And the Seventies started out that way. There was some sense of direction, kind of like a shotgun blast has a sense of direction. I'd spent that last couple of years training new franchisees and their employees, watching the company grow from 14 pizza shops to over 40 shops, every one a success. I only knew for sure I didn't want to remain just a pizza cook with a title. Opportunities for advancement in the company were pretty slim. I figured maybe I could do better as a franchisee. So the search for the perfect location started at the beginning of the decade. A friend and I spent my days off and vacations seeking a place where we could sink roots, as well as open our own place, Between us we could borrow enough to swing the deal. On top of that, he already owned a successful business and had a degree in marketing. Then, one September we decided we needed a break and took five days vacation in Hawaii. It was kind of a package deal (flight, hotel, airport transfers and welcome party included). We met two young ladies, one of whom became my first wife a couple of years later. The courtship was interesting in that she lived in the San Gabriel Valley (east of L.A.) while I lived 400 miles north. Visits were, literally and figuratively, a trip. Life had become an experiment. WE still looked for a business location, expanding the circle ever wider, and dated the two ladies, as well. My friend's relationship wasn't nearly as serious. We spent more time dating than looking. My relationship became much more serious and there was this big Catholic wedding in Southern California that my bride paid for and we moved into a new apartment in Sunnyvale and really started to get to know each other. She'd had a great job before and didn't like not working [this is important remember it] so she found a job, working Monday through Thursday, ten hours a day. I at least had two days off each week, but they weren't always the same days each week and weren't necessarily consecutive. We made it work. And we were still looking. We thought we'd been all over, but we hadn't headed north. That's when we discovered just how big California really is and that San Francisco isn't in Northern California. It’s close, but no cigar. By this time my good friend was not involved any longer because his business was going gangbusters. But my in-laws were in the picture and were financially able to participate. Just by chance my bride and I happened into Redding, looked around, and made some inquiries. A motel owner put us onto a real estate agent who'd been around town for a long time. He didn't handle commercial property, but knew folks who did. The next thing we knew, we were writing a proposal to lease and the clock started ticking. Then she was pregnant. Then we were packing to move. Then her folks were selling their house. Then her dad was going for training (and I wasn't going to be doing that). Then her folks were moving. Then we were opening the doors to our pizza place and we were so busy we were working 12-14 hours a day because we had to train out new employees as we went along.”Holy Crap!h It was still the first half of the decade and we'd lived a lifetime in a little over two years. Then my son was born and I got to be in the delivery room to witness the miracle of a new life. And business was good. And my brother-in-law and his wife moved there, got his contractors license, and started to build a house for his folks. And my sister-in-law and her husband moved up. She came to work for the pizza place while her husband finished getting his A.A. Degree and went for his electrical contractors license. Before long with all of the young wives we were being overrun with babies [figure of speech]. Just at 20 months after my son was born, I witnessed the birth of daughter number one. We also realized we were going to have to keep up with the population growth in the community and open another restaurant [that's what we called them now]. It just so happened a new shopping center was being developed in Anderson and Round Table had developed to the point where developers were actually seeking them for there centers. So in late 1977 we opened a second shop with not quite the success of the first. And my wife was pregnant again. So early in 1978 I slipped out of work and took my wife to the hospital and witnessed the birth of daughter number two. It was sometime about this time found I was unable to balance work and family. Nor could I separate them. And then we opened a third restaurant so there was even less time and I was stupid.
and it looks like a good place to rest
(to be continued)
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Oops... wait a minute
I forgot to tell about the plane ride home.
Some of you are probably wondering if the knowledge base has increased any.
Are we going to have a new wildfire in the region every week this year?
Will the smoke linger?
I really don't want to wait until the afternoon for information.
I could use a squirrel for some distraction now... or even all of those kids in the back of the plane where we were sitting.
I wonder if I will finish the synopsis thing I'm writing.
Maybe I mentioned we'd scheduled midday departures for our flights? That was mostly to avoid having to rush anywhere. That worked out well. We arrived at Logan Airport with plenty of time to check in, find a bite to eat, find a spot for someone to smoke a cigarette [have I told the stinkweed story yet?], and locate our gate.
That was a little different. The gate was downstairs and through some plain white doors, not at all inviting or even reassuring. Then once through the doors there was one long single file line heading straight to the security molestation area (that's as opposed to the usual serpentine line where one passes some other folks about half a dozen times before being subjected to whatever mental torture is required). One of the TSA* agents periodically came along the line warning passengers that the rules hadn't changed, but things are a little different because some relaxations had been unrelaxed. The line was moving much slower than I remembered those lines moving.
But there were no issues and we found our way directly to the gate, where it appeared there had been a pre-school set up. Most noticeably there was a young couple with a toddler and an only slightly older child making every attempt to amuse said children. The children were more intent on amusing themselves. As in any conflict there were winners and there were losers ...and lots and lots of innocent victims.
Finally boarding was announced and the young folk disappeared for early boarding. That's why folks bring kids when they fly Southwest... so they can jump the queue ahead of everyone except the folks in wheelchairs and fill the overhead bins with diapers and Pepperidge Farms Goldfish. Then the "A" group was called. Our group was "B" group for this flight, but at least we had a lower number. Somehow (I think it's because I thought I might get an aerial photo of Cape Cod) we found ourselves toward the back of the
Then to top it all off the pilot turned north, instead of south, before heading west.
Everything beyond this point is almost a whole 'nother story ...or more. So I wouldn't blame you if waited until tomorrow to read it. Though, there is a post planned for tomorrow. It's your choice.
I don't think I remember ever seeing fog at Denver before. Then it dawned on me. That's not fog. The entire West must have been burning (we knew about what was going on in Lassen Park and the adjacent forest). It was eerie.
Denver has something a lot of other airports don't... smoking lounges. It's a good thing, because to go outside at Denver to smoke would require getting on a train and riding underground for some distance to find a designated area. Then reversing direction, except at some point going through security would be involved... and since there was a change of planes carry-ons would have to be kept with us. So Denver gets stars for realizing that smokers have to have some place to be.
They serve pretty good soup and nachos in the smoking lounge, too.
Then it was announced that our flight to Reno, we were in the "A" group, was delayed, not because our plane wasn't there, but because a flight connecting from somewhere else (Chicago, I think) was still inbound, and rather than make those folks stay over in Denver, we'd wait an extra hour. That meant, of course, that the check-in line at our hotel in Reno wouldn't be nearly as long as it would be if we were an hour earlier.
It wasn't foggy in Reno, too, just about as much as Denver.
I'm going to give a plug here. So you can skip this next part.
If you're ever going to Reno you should consider the El Dorado. They have a shuttle from ...and to ...the airport. Everything you could want is right there in the hotel. If you do have a vehicle, parking is free for guests (unless you use valet parking). The best part is it is only a few blocks down 4th Street to Louis Basque Corner (okay so it was two plugs). Check out the El Dorado website for online deals.
The drive home, up U.S. 395, was fairly
My familiarity with the area is such that I no the only other way to go from Johsonville is south, the way we'd come. What the sign failed to mention was the highway was closed beyond the junction with State Highway 36, which was the way we were planning to travel. By this point a lot of the smoke was missing and it was clear as we passed through Susanville to the turnoff to Redding and destinations in Shasta County (like Anderson). We could sense we were almost halfway home from Reno.
I'd checked before leaving the hotel and all the routes were open despite the fire in the park. About the only downside was the smoke on Hwy 44, which was much worse that the week before. Even that cleared quite a bit after we reached the Summit at Eskimo Hill (elev. 6100') and by the time we reached Shingletown it was clear.
Four days later the area was being evacuated but I've already posted about that. I will mention, however, that I alluded to a fire to the north that was 260 acres... it's still burning and has reached almost 47,000 acres, and is yet to be contained completely. All of those fires mentioned in the post so far (four by my count were caused by lightning strikes). But since then it seems there have been at least a fire each week in the region caused by stupidity of one kind or another.
There's a kind of a bridge meme (it's subtle so I won't elaborate) anyway I mentioned in a comment that I had a picture of the BP, His Wife, and GS at the Golden Gate Bridge. I was wrong. They're in front of Alcatraz.
I'm in the one at the bridge.
*thousands standing around
stay tuned
Monday, September 10, 2012
How about that
We managed to make it through a whole month of vacation pictures ...and a few distractions.
So what do we do for an encore?
Suldog, Buck, The Surly Writer, and Craig, who used to be Desmond Jones (and maybe a few others) posted somebackground information reminiscences, along with their theme music.
I posted my theme music. I may have to think awhile about how to approach my past history. I have an inkling of how it's going to go.
I pretty sure I mentioned things being a little sideways, or even upside down around here. Someone very close could use some prayers from as many fronts as possible. When I can relate more, I will.
So what do we do for an encore?
Suldog, Buck, The Surly Writer, and Craig, who used to be Desmond Jones (and maybe a few others) posted some
I posted my theme music. I may have to think awhile about how to approach my past history. I have an inkling of how it's going to go.
I pretty sure I mentioned things being a little sideways, or even upside down around here. Someone very close could use some prayers from as many fronts as possible. When I can relate more, I will.
will know more tomorrow
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