Let's sing: On the 1st day of Christmas. . .

. . . my company gave to me, a pink slip after 38 years. On the 2nd day of Christmas . . . .

Terminated! How the dreaded event unfolded: my Blackberry buzzed the final evening of November just as our family and a guest were sitting down to our last Thanksgiving weekend meal together. I glanced at the incoming message from my boss: numerous changes...need to meet you tomorrow at the Motley Motel...bring your laptop.... I chose not to share this cryptic news with our small gathering, and I wasn't much of a conversationalist the rest of the evening either (not that I'm much of one anyway, but this time I felt I had an excuse). Didn't get much sleep that night either.

The next morning the boss buzzed the Blackberry again: confirm receipt of my message...also I do not need you to bring your computer.... What the?? Was this a reprieve?

Nope. At the annointed hour, I dutifully appeared at my execution. The boss (who normally is a very nice guy but this night was looking a bit like Bart Simpson on steroids) ushered me into a very large conference room that had light only over one table with a phone on it and one chair on either side. Kind of surreal. After several attempts, the phone simply refused to allow an outgoing call, so the boss drew his trusty Blackberry and proceeded to conference call with Ms. Armbreaker from HR, and the Queen VP of Global Sales who explained how she had wanted to be there in person, but the dreadful weather at HQ had prevented that - and something about her pending trip to China which, frankly, went over my head.

From that point, the role of my boss was to push various documents at me as the HR professional rattled them off. We ended up having two good discussions about (1) extending the termination date 8 to 10 days to allow me to complete a couple of important tasks with customers and (2) the potential of a continuing part-time relationship as an independant contractor. Of course the #2 won't proceed until I sign the separation document which, near as I can tell, would hold the company blameless for every time they ever mis-spelled my last name plus all evil deeds (real or imagined) they might have done to me during the last 38+ years. And they suggested I get an attorney to advise me (you betcha). And help yourself to a lump of coal on your way out. Thanks for coming.

So my last day was, effectively, the first day of the twelve days of Christmas! Upon reflection, I (almost) feel more sorry for my boss who has to be on his own emotional rollercoaster, along with several of my peers who had to give (or get) similar news. However, regardless of what happens from here, I'm glad to be able to say my tenure with the organization has (literally) been the ride of my life--an extrordinary experience. The ratio of nice folks I have met and worked with vs. the not so nice has been in the neighborhood of 100:1 (probably higher). I think it would have been pretty hard to beat those odds anywhere else!

"Step Back From The Alter Sir . . .

And Keep Your Hands Off My Wallet!" Another sign of our weird times: allow me to share this 12/15/08 post at http://politicalirony.com/: The blessing of the SUVs

Here’s another one of those stories that truly wins the irony award. In Princess Sparkle Pony’s Photo Blog (subtitle “I keep track of Condoleezza’s hairdo so you don’t have to”) is a story about a recent service at the Greater Grace Temple in Detroit. The title of the article is “Programming Note: This Week, the Part of the Golden Calf Will be Played by Three Sport Utility Vehicles”.

At this service, called “A Hybrid Hope”, Bishop Charles Ellis prayed for the future of the American auto industry. But what makes it truly astounding was that Bishop Ellis shared the altar with three SUVs (one from each company in the holy auto trinity, of course).

As if that wasn’t enough, Ellis summoned up hundreds of auto workers and retirees in the congregation to come forward toward the vehicles on the altar to be anointed with oil. Yes, oil. You just can’t make stuff like this up. From Reuters, via Princess Sparkle Pony. More photos.

I'm as grateful as I can get

‘Tis the time of year to reflect upon the things for which we are thankful.
My “A to Z” list:
A = America – can you really imagine living somewhere else (except maybe Canada)?
B = BBL - as in my Beautiful Bodacious Lady (same as “L”)
C = Crosswords – allows my BBL to daily show me her intelligence and skill
D = Daughter (same as “K”)
E = Electricity/Energy – absolutely makes life much Easier
F = Friendship and Family (probably same as “U” and “Y”); Freedom
G = GPS - gets my associate Al (and me) to where we need to go in ½ the time.
H = Harmony – when everything is going smoothly. Same as “Happiness & Health”
I = Internet – use it every day, can’t imagine not having it. Aids my “Intellect”
J = Jeff - (same as “S”) - my boy who has grown into a man to make me very proud
K = Katie – my beautiful girl, a source of both pride and inspiration
L = Linda – synonymous with “Love” and “Life” (also same as “B and “W”)
M = MP3’s- represents my new interaction with “Music” these days
N = NPR – I still can’t believe it, but it has become my favorite radio station
O = Ostriches – just checking to see if you’re reading! Otherwise, OT
P = Punky - our “Puppy” who is my constant companion
Q = Quiet – I definitely like it (and increasingly more of it) these days
R = Residence. As in “Roof over our heads in a nice neighborhood”
S = Son (same as “J”)
T = Texas – wasn’t born here, but definitely am not ever leaving my adopted state
U = Same as “Y”!
V = Vitality – I have some, but mainly feed off “A,B,D,F,H,I, J,K,L,P,S,T,W,U,Y&Z”!
W = Wife (same as “B” and “L”; also the same as “Warmth”)
X = The “X” factor that uneXpectedly improves the eXperience we have
Y = You – if you’re reading this, you have probably touched my life favorably
Z = Zero’s, as in net worth. I have some of them (but you can’t get enough)!

My 1st Lap Around Indy

Made my first ever trip to Indianapolis this last week. How I’ve been able to avoid this for so long is a mystery, but it is a mistake now rectified. The people there are so darn nice!

The occasion for the trip was two-fold. My BBL’s nephew, who also holds the title of godson, was marrying a vivacious local girl. That made an excuse for both a party and a family mini-reunion. Our twig of the family tree had no responsibility for any duty in the wedding other than showing up. Not a bad way to start a trip.

After duly observing and celebrating said nephew/godson’s acceptance of the bonds of matrimonial prison, I kissed my BBL and kids goodbye at the airport and moved my stuff from the downtown Omni Severin hotel to University Place Hotel on the campus of IUPU (which when you think about it, is a better sequence of letters than IPUP!). This move was the result of my first ever transaction with Priceline. I thought I was bidding on a four-star downtown hotel for $75/night (and hoping that might turn out to be the Omni). The new hotel came within a star of where we had been, but in retrospect, I probably could have gotten it for $50 as the place was that empty. It was here I witnessed the only negative reaction by an individual in this city: a woman checking into the hotel said “Darn It” and frowned when she learned that Celine Dion had canceled an evening performance she had just driven over 100 miles to see.

The reason I had extended my stay was to introduce myself to my company’s distributors in the city (I’m at my best when multi-tasking on trips). Little did these customers know that, through no fault of their own, they were now assigned to my Central Region. To their credit, none of them said “Darn it” or frowned when they met me. In fact, each one I met was as nice, if not nicer, than the last.

As I sat in the IND airport waiting to be one of the very last departures out of their “old” terminal, I believe I hit upon a plausible explanation for the pervasive “niceness” of this city’s citizens: Indianapolis is the headquarters of Eli Lilly, the manufacturers and purveyors of Prozac. Perhaps some of this stuff is getting in the city water supply? That would explain the one frown I saw—she was from Fort Wayne.

And I’m Unhappy Because . . . ?

Well, it’s not because Halloween is over where too many in the neighborhood feel they have to display faux graves, skeletons and spiders on their property!

And, I’m not unhappy because all the hot air advertising surrounding this election is about to vaporize. So too, (hopefully) will the forwarded email messages that spew right- and left-wing diatribe--some so unbelievable that the authors should be candidates for straightjackets.

But not all forwarded email is bad – some actually has the capacity to make me think rather than flinch. Like one entitled “Made in the USA: Spoiled Brats” that came in mis-attributed to David Letterman (but a little research on Snopes revealed it was written way back in November of ‘06 by a very un-comedic Craig Smith). He cites a (7/06) Newsweek poll stating that roughly 2/3rds of Americans are (or were) unhappy. And asks why.

Fast forward two years and a Time magazine poll claims that 85% of us are now unhappy—mostly with the economy, but I don’t personally know of anyone who has taken up “dumpster diving” lately. Craig Smith’s questions as to “why” are still valid. To be sure, it is every American’s unalienable right to feel unhappy, but I would think 90+% of us should feel pretty darn good about things – and 98+% of us could certainly find a great many things for which to be happy and thankful.

Your next five minutes of happiness are hereby provided by Robin Williams in this 1982 performance (courtesy of another forwarded email).

Wasn't Halloween Once Called Black October?

The 3rd quarter statements are arriving (whimpering) in the mailbox. Don't know about you. but so far my net worth is about 1/3 less than it was at the beginning of the year. It appears that this is the only area where I've been able to lose "weight" in quite some time. Talk about crash diets!
Let's get this election over with so we can have some new faces (masks?) to blame as soon as possible. Be sure to vote for your favorite "trick or treater" candidate . . . it'll make you feel a lot better--at least for a little while.

Note:

The next few "day" posts chronicle our recent vacation. I have taken the liberty of posting them in reverse chronological order so it (hopefully) makes a bit more sense as you scroll down through the posts. If you just want to "cut to the chase", go to the link on Day 8 to a "movie" slideshow of all our pictures.

Day 1: The Stars Are Big, The Stars Are Bright

[clap, clap] Deep in the Heart of Texas! On Saturday, my BBL and I set off for our 35th anniversary trip. Over the years we’ve gotten into the habit of trying to get off by ourselves for this occasion. This year on the list of possibilities was Honolulu, New England, and Florida. Instead, we found ourselves in remote Ft. Davis, Texas on our way to an even more remote area of the state. And before you accuse me of spousal abuse, let the record show this trip was her idea! (And I immediately agreed). She had seen an article in the Big D News offering a ready-made 8 day round trip itinerary to Big Bend National Park in far, far (did I mention far?) SW Texas.

Our first day’s goals were to get an early 5am-6am start, check into the Hotel Limpia [est. 1884], eat a decent meal, and get to nearby McDonald Observatory by 8:30pm for their “star-gazing” party. Half of these goals were met.

We pulled out of the driveway at 8 am and spent the next 9 ½ hours in the car, about a quarter of it with a (legit) 80 mph speed limit. We managed to squeeze in 2 stops for gas (one in Monahans—home of Texas’ Sahara-like Desert) and a ½ hour stop in Balmorhea State Park that encompasses a 1 million gallon/hour San Soloman Spring-fed swimming pool. Quite a remarkable sight in the middle of the desert.

Around 6 pm we checked into #22, a cozy “step-saver” of a room. Seven pillows were already residing in there, making it feel a tad bit smaller than tiny, and providing proof that not every thing is bigger in Texas. We did have the outstanding luxury of a private bathroom. The toilet seat will be memorable – sitting on it reminded me of my last attempt to ride a horse.

A decent dinner at the Hotel Limpia Dining Room was our other unmet goal. Evidently the primary purpose of the dining room is to get guests to walk through a LARGE gift shop and not necessarily to serve quality food.

McDonald Observatory was definitely the day’s highlight. We arrived just at sunset. Although the night wasn’t perfectly clear, as the sky got darker, the stars got bigger, brighter and more plentiful. We could actually see The Milky Way with the naked eye [truth in blogging notes: I’m near-sighted so I still required my prescription glasses. And the Observatory is not really in the heart of Texas but closer to what could be considered the left love-handle—if you leave El Paso out of the consideration]. Anyway, naked eyes weren’t really required. The staff had half a dozen manned telescopes for us to take in the billions of stars. They also performed a “Constellation Tour” in an outdoor amphitheater. They had an amazingly effective green laser which they used to point out groups of stars that were supposed to resemble big and small bears, scorpions, sea-goats, hunters, etc., but I was lost in a cloud of cosmic dust after they pointed out the Big Dipper. If you ever get to this area, put this on your ‘to do” list and be sure to dress warm. Altitude (~8000’), darkness and wind make a chilly combination—even in lower left Texas.

Saturday pictures

Day 2: When Did Breakfast Become A Drug?

We woke earlier than we wanted the next morning. Seems our fellow hotel guests were bicyclers anticipating their upcoming endorphin highs – sounded like about a dozen of them in the hallway “good morning’ing” each other and inquiring “Did you sleep well?”. We wanted to yell out that we hadn’t, but instead minded our manners. Got up and encountered the highest shower head I had ever seen. Must have been close to 9’ tall—certainly seemed out of proportion to the size of the bedroom!

Thankfully, the H. L. Dining Room was not open for breakfast. We ventured across the street to “The Drugstore” whose only merchandise was breakfast and lunch (and the obligatory gift crapola). We settled in and enjoyed the best (and biggest) breakfast we’ve had in a long, long time. I’d recommend the “Drugstore Special” to anyone—particularly the H. L Dining Room. The two pieces of ham that accompanied the eggs and wheatberry toast positively would have embarrassed the two thin pork chops from my last meal. Breakfast may not be a drug, but it certainly could become habit forming here!

We wandered next door into the lobby of the Harvard Hotel where we met Rick, the lonely manager who was more than happy to provide a personal tour of the facility. We discovered huge, bordering on suite-like, rooms (our seven pillows would be lost in here). Learned the hotel had only been built a couple of years ago and is one of the business units of the Sproul Ranch, which also provides Harvard University a location for their radio telescope on the outskirts of town. Very competitive rates – we definitely will stay here during our next visit to the area.

Then it was off to do all the stuff there is to do in Ft. Davis, which is primarily to see old Ft. Davis, a National Historic Park. It was established in 1852 to protect the early pioneers and other invaders traveling on the San Antonio-El Paso Overland Road from the region’s Indians/insurgents. We learned that at one time over 800 cavalry were stationed here. The site was selected for the local availability of water, wood, grass for grazing (800 Buffalo Soldiers require about as many horses) and cool air—rather than for it’s strategic location to fight Indians. The most impressive remaining feature of the fort was the replica row of officers’ quarters situated in front of an equally impressive sandstone mesa. The (large) hospital had also been rebuilt on its original site. We were impressed with the original foresight to locate it as far away from their military cemetery as they could. We hiked up the trail to the top of the mesa where we gazed down on both Ft Davis’s. From up there it was easy to see the original row of officers’ quarters was built along a line that pointed true north. The re-built line followed magnetic north. The park ranger could not offer an explanation why.

From the fort it was a short drive to Indian Lodge State Park (perhaps there exists a politically correct need to offer equal billing to the Indians?). We discovered a very nice appearing white motel-type unit with the best view I’ve ever seen from a state-owned swimming pool. We also discovered the existence of their Black Bear Restaurant. The Park Ranger bragged on the menu (“if you like liver & onions, it’s better than Luby’s”. We wondered where the nearest Luby’s Cafeteria could be that conjured up this comparison).

We then set off on a 75 mile scenic loop drive (as if we needed to add more miles to our itinerary). Beautiful countryside and smooth blacktop gave us a taste of what we were about to experience when we finally got to our ultimate destination. We passed our fellow hotel guests/bicyclers who were doing the same loop on two wheels. They didn’t look as enthusiastic as they sounded a few hours ago! Actually they looked exhausted.

Took a short nap upon our return to the Hotel Limpia and rested up before tackling the “chicken fried steak” at the Black Bear. While not liver and onions, it was still as good as Luby’s. Then back to the Limpia to relax in the courtyard with Tuxedo, the hotel’s mascot mouser, and watch the bicyclers straggle in. We went to bed feeling rather assured of a quieter morning on the morrow.

Sunday pictures

Day 3: Big Bend or Bust

We got a more humane start on the day, loaded up our Pony and departed for Marfa. No Drugstore for breakfast because the Big D News article highly recommended we have breakfast at The Brown Recluse Restaurant to enjoy one of their famous cinnamon rolls. The article made no mention that the place was only open Thursday through Sunday (as we discovered, this being a Monday morning). So we instead stopped in the famous Paisano Hotel, a sister property of the Limpia to get an alternate recommendation. This prompted a debate between the gift store manager and the desk clerk. The feisty gift store manager, a woman approaching maybe 80, won and we headed off to break our fast at Conchito’s. We found it easy enough (it was 3 blocks from the Recluse) but we had totally overlooked it, or perhaps more properly, had looked past it. We would not have opened the plywood door or sat at one of the 5 tables if we had not been directed to it. It was good enough, although not quite Drugstore quality.

Marfa has become somewhat a haven for the “Arts” in this part of the world – but we also discovered that the Arts are closed in Marfa on Mondays too. It appears the creative seeds were planted here when the classic film GIANT (with bad boy heart-throb James Dean) was filmed nearby. The Paisano Hotel became the base for the film’s production. The other thing Marfa is known for is its “Mystery Lights,” supposedly a supernatural phenomenon that occurs occasionally often enough. Personally, I think it’s a combination of the Observatory’s Constellation Tour’s green lasers and the consumption of products from nearby Luz de Estrella Winery (we can now attest that their whites and blushes are very good).

We had one more county courthouse to count before getting to Big Bend. Alpine is the seat of Brewster County which boasts of being the largest (geographically speaking) in Texas [Marfa was the home of Presidio County; Ft. Davis was headquarters for Jeff Davis County]. Alpine has many attractions: it is home to Sul Ross State University, the alma mater of Dan Blocker (who played Hoss in the TV show Bonanza. It is the birthplace of the Reata Restaurant (gourmet cowboy cusine we last experienced in Ft. Worth); It has Kokernot Field (our guidebook said it was modeled on Chicago’s Wrigley Field – after seeing it, my BBL decided the guidebook’s author probably sees Marfa’s Mystery Lights more than anyone else); Amtrak also stops here; and, oh yeah, they have a Sonic drive-in with a 2-4pm happy hour.

Gourmet fed, happy hour refreshed with diet limeades, and a full tank of gas, we busted out of Alpine toward Big Bend ~70 miles away (but still in Brewster County). On the way we did a Terlingua ghost town drive-by, but didn’t see any chili. Pulled into Big Bend’s Chisos Mountain Lodge about 4:30 and checked into Room 208 – the only room available when I made the reservation 3 weeks earlier. No phone, no TV, but one each of a small refrigerator and microwave, and two beds. Do we know how to celebrate our 35th anniversary or what?!

Monday pictures

Days 4, 5 & 6: Best Medicine—Take 2 Trails A Day

A couple of days ago when we took our first hike in Ft. Davis, my BBL asked, with a small but happy tear in her eye, if six to nine months ago I could have envisioned us doing this (hiking) again for our anniversary trip. That was 3 cranial operations and a whole lot of recovery, PT and OT therapy ago. When viewed from that perspective, it certainly is a testament to how far we’ve come since those dark days. We once again are so grateful for all who pulled and prayed for us along the way.

My BBL selected the trails we would attempt while here—nothing more challenging than “moderate.” Several trails were closed due to bear activity–it apparently is a banner year for cubs (but not the baseball kind). We were told that 7 baby bears had been spotted. But there were plenty of beautiful trails open to us. I estimate we hiked about 5 miles each day. We’ll let the pictures do the talking.

Tuesday pictures
Wednesday pictures (the Rio Grande was at flood stage—this was as close as we could get)
Thursday pictures

We were sad to have to leave but vowed we will return again. We ended Day 5 at the Gage Hotel in Marathon – another 70 mile destination from the park, but still within the confines of Brewster County.

Upon our arrival, we popped into the Gage’s White Buffalo Cantina for some chips and salsa ($4) and their “signature” margaritas ($8). They had run out of salsa but offered us the alternative of free chips if we bought one of their large bottles of salsa ($5). Strange. And, unfortunately, the margaritas were the worst. When we told the bartender we had no brand preference, he must have interpreted our statement as “hold the tequila.” We gave him the leftover salsa as a tip. However, only fifty feet away we had the best dinner at their restaurant. Hands down, the best meal we’ve had in a long time. Huge walnut crusted scallops, shrimp and a bison ribeye so tender we could cut it with a fork. Strange.

Day 7: Park The Pony

About 2am we discovered why the Gage Hotel provides complimentary ear plugs in the room. The hotel is literally across the street from the mainline of the Union Pacific RR. On an intellectual basis it’s easy to understand that the town and the hotel exist because of the railroad; however, the first time you hear the freight train whistling its way past your room, you wonder why they built the hotel so darn close to the tracks!

Our room #39 was located in the Portales annex of the hotel. It provided a beautiful and peaceful sanctuary when a train wasn’t around—quite unique. The room itself had a stocked fireplace and thick adobe walls with wood shutters that darkened the room very effectively.

This was our designated day to “veg.” We decided that the Mustang needed a rest too so it stayed parked all day while we explored Marathon on foot (which didn’t take all that long). The town is laid out very logically, if somewhat un-creatively. North-South roads are Avenues A, B, C, D, etc. while East-West roads are First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth and Sixth Streets. The Elementary and High Schools are way up around Fifth and Sixth Streets (go a block further to get to the six-man football field). Our waitress for dinner this day was a sophomore here. Her class totaled three people. Her goal was to graduate valedictorian and get the hell out of Marathon (to attend UConn). But I get ahead of myself.

Our first breakfast attempt was at Shirley’s Burnt Biscuit Bakery, two blocks from the hotel. Isn’t that a great name for a restaurant? Unfortunately, their breakfast sandwiches consisted of pre-made Saran wrapped things that you could warm up in their microwave. Reminded me of the breakfast offering at a 7-11. We backtracked to Johnny B’s, an establishment only open from 7-11am. Had some great blueberry pancakes and managed to stay under their limit of three refills on the coffee.

Next stop was the bookstore back down the block. The owner is also the custodian of the town museum and library, which seems perfectly rational. We bought a book on CD and , in turn, were offered the key for a personal visit, but we declined as we had a much too busy schedule to dawdle in a museum/library. Back we went to relax in the Portales area outside our room. Got acquainted with the Gage’s no-name cat who insisted upon being paid some attention. Then we walked all the way over to The French Market (French refers to a surname, not a nation) where we split a deli sandwich while I made my BBL’s day by letting her slaughter me at Scrabble. Then I required a nap to help me recover from such a hectic pace.

Before you knew it, it was time to relax again, then walk all the way to the Courtyard Café, an annex of the Marathon Motel & RV Park, which is the Gage’s competition. Along the way we passed a most remarkably painted garage door—a perfect five-pointed star in a circle. It must have taken longer to paint this than it did to build the garage! At the Café we met the aforementioned student and had our last supper in Brewster County – a very Texan sliced brisket and baked potato. Also took my last sunset pictures as the sun set behind the Glass Mountains.

Friday pictures

Day 8: Only 1600 Miles And It’s Over Already?

The end of a vacation is always the worst part and this one was certainly no exception to the rule. Home was only a 10 hour drive away. We listened to our book on CD which helped to pass the time as we approached normalcy again. The most exciting thing that happened was getting stuck in a traffic jam with just fumes in the tank for fuel, wondering if our next hike might be to a gas station.

We pulled into our driveway just under 180 hours and 1600 miles after we left it. Hope this narrative doesn’t scare you away from your own adventure to Big Bend. We had a blast and look forward to doing it again (really!).

Our Big Bend Trip (the movie version) The movie is about 40 minutes long--you've been warned!

IKE 2, Cubs vs. Astros 0

Last Wednesday my BBL and I made the trek to Houston for a combination business/personal visit. The big draw was the three game series between BBL’s beloved Cubbies and the home team who think they’re contenders. What made it even sweeter was the fact a customer had invited us to join them in their seats. Obviously, this appealed to us on so many levels . . . .

On Monday and Tuesday we kept a keen eye on the big thing brewing in the Gulf. When we left Big D on Wednesday, the hurricane trackers were betting IKE was heading more South and West, toward Corpus Christi. Sure, Houston would get some wind and rain, but that’s why Minute Maid Field has a roof, right?

We pulled into Houston about 8:00pm. There were some ominous highway information signs shouting “Hurricane Forming In Gulf – Fill Your Gas Tanks” and we obeyed that order before checking into the LaQuinta Gallaria (one of the very few LQ’s I would recommend to anyone (particularly our corporate travel manager). [here’s a tidbit for you: Do you know what LaQuinta really means? “Next to Denny’s”] Anyway, we walked over to Champs off Post Oak Blvd for some dinner. Our waiter was a twenty-something expert who minored in disaster management and who succeeded in planting a seed of doubt in our mature minds: “what the heck are we doing here?”

Back at the LQ, we fired up the computer and the TV to get a take on the latest developments. IKE had taken a noticeably Northern turn and was now heading straight for Galveston Island with America’s 4th largest city next in its sights. No decision yet on the baseball games, although there seemed a brief possibility the game might be moved to The Ballpark in Arlington (basically our backyard). That ironic possibility quickly faded (no roof in Arlington). We got a fitful night’s sleep.

Thursday morning we got an early jump on the TV/Internet. My customer had told me about a fantastic site to monitor the hurricane’s path (http://www.stormpulse.com/ - highly recommended, but we hope you never need to use it). The immediate coastal regions were under mandatory evacuation orders. Amazingly, Houstonians were being told to stay put (local lexicon: “hunker down”). Still no word on the status of the ballgames, but Mayor Bill White was saying Houston would be virtually shut down on Friday. We decided to cancel all professional and personal business and point the Montego North up I-45. We averaged about 30 mph for the first hundred miles before the road seemed to turn into a NASCAR event.

The hurricane was practically a non-event in Big D with only a couple of hours drizzle – Missouri and Kentucky got hit much, much harder. Friday and Saturday baseball games got totally cancelled. Sunday’s game got moved to the Cub's suburb of Milwaukee where they registered their 1st no hitter in over 3 decades vs. the weary and worried Astro’s (who were supposed to be enjoying a home stand). Don’t tell my BBL, but the ‘stros and their fans got a very raw deal-- on so many levels.

The Wheels of Justice--

--are starting to turn, albeit slowly, in Wisconsin’s Outagamie County Courthouse. Last Wednesday morning there was (finally) a preliminary hearing for the fellow who hit 3 of us while we were walking across Wisconsin Avenue last November 13th. Only took 296 days to get this far!

The assistant DA had to prove before a judge that he had enough potential evidence to bring criminal charges of (1) possession of a controlled substance, (2) driving under the influence of a controlled substance, and (3) causing great bodily harm with a motor vehicle while driving under the influence of a controlled substance. I was Exhibit A for the last charge.

I was surprised at my own emotions while testifying. They snuck up on me and became evident in my voice as I answered the Assistant DA’s questions about “my great bodily harm.” The defense attorney reserved most of his questions for the other witness—the investigating officer who interviewed the defendant and took him to have his blood drawn after the accident [“what made him suspect the defendant was under the influence”, “how much training had the officer had in drug cases”, etc.].

But 45 minutes after we arrived in the courtroom, her Honor determined there was enough evidence for the defendant (who never said a word)) to be arraigned on the charges. If he pleads not guilty, there will be a trial; more than likely in 2009!

Learned a couple of sad facts during this process:
· The 27 year old defendant still lives at home with his parents and didn’t have any insurance;
· There are only 2 qualified individuals in the State of Wisconsin that can do blood analysis for criminal cases. They test first for alcohol. If more/other tests are needed, one has to wait until they get to the bottom of the pile for all the other first tests that are needed.
· Depending upon the plea, the Assistant DA may bring separate charges against the defendant for another instance of “possession” that occurred within a week of the accident!
· My company has paid over a quarter of a million dollars in medical bills for me (so far)!

AA@Your_Dis-service

Last week I experienced less than smooth trip to Green Bay. It started out with promise. I was booked on flight AA47 from DFW to ORD with a cushy seat assignment in the business class section of a Boeing 777 and a dawdling 2 hour connection to the American Eagle flight to GRB. The weather was good all along the route with everything projected to be on time.

All went well until I got to the gate. In place of a boarding announcement, they instead perkily announced that the completely booked flight was cancelled! A cancelled Boeing 777 creates approximately 250 very disgruntled individuals, particularly those 50 or so First and Business class passengers, yours truly included.

If you’ve flown recently, you know there might be one or two open seats on any airplane these days, so I immediately knew I faced a challenge. Flashing my Platinum status at the Admirals Club, I was able to secure a seat that nobody else seemed to want (right next to the engine in the back row) on a flight departing 2 hours later. This trumped the AA elite flyer auto rebooking “service” that left me a message (as I was boarding my flight) informing me I had a reservation for a flight the next day!

Needless to say, it was a very late arrival in Green Bay. Couldn’t leave the airport until I had filed the lost baggage report with America Eagle. I decided to stay at a hotel two miles from the airport to ensure a quick bag delivery as soon as it got in, hopefully (the agent said) that same evening. After checking into the hotel, informing the clerk about my pending bag arrival, I walked a few blocks to a restaurant for dinner. Got a new perspective there on what can be called “lettuce wraps” (but that’s another story). Walked back to the hotel, no bag, so called the wonderfully automated AA bi-lingual baggage service and eventually was told that my bag would arrive at the airport sometime the next day (“that’s all the information that’s available at this time”).

The next morning I repeated the automated phone drill. I mis-hit a button on the phone prompt and a miracle happened: I got a human being! She said it was scheduled for delivery at 8:30am. Not ideal, but OK.

My call at 9:00 revealed that my bag was given to a delivery service at 8:30. Ditto this information for my call at 10:00. My 11:00 call yielded an unhappy tidbit – AA gives their delivery service up to 6 hours to make the delivery! I finally checked out of the hotel at noon. Since I was so close to the airport, I decided to drive over and put an eyeball on baggage claim. No bag. Talked to the counter folks who confirmed that they had given it to their baggage delivery service at 8:30 with RUSH status. Then they noticed the delivery van was parked outside. They paged the representative who eventually wandered over. He confirmed he had indeed picked up the bag . . . and that it was still in his delivery van! The irony surrounding this situation is that the delivery service’ name is: Quick!

I will jeopardize my elite status with AA (whose value is a bit questionable) and again favor Midwest Airlines for my future Wisconsin trips. Should never have changed.

Zero to Sixty . . .

. . . in a heartbeat, or so it seemed. Although the logical side of me estimates it really took more like 3 billion or so, it only took a single heartbeat to cross into another decade of my life--and it occurred in the wee morning hours of 08-08-08. Actually I think it was significant enough to wake both of us! My BBL murmured “Happy Birthday” and went back to sleep. I, in turn, began contemplating my mortality.

Had to remind myself that I was turning 60 and not 65! Although I have looked older than my age for quite awhile now (my hair having turned white in my early 40’s). Perhaps that is the reason I’ve always seemed to relate better to older people, although I never actually wanted to be one of them! For whatever reason, this birthday certainly felt different than previous “big ones” (40, 50, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59); it’s probably because I just plain feel old(er). The events of the past year have conspired to make me feel more like what I imagined 70 or 75 might be like!

In an effort to recapture my youth (and taking advantage of being in the Chicago area), I invited three of my oldest local contemporaries to a birthday lunch: TL and Wiley Joe were working with the company when I showed up (they’re now retired) and Steepo has the distinction of being number two in sales seniority (after yours truly). My strategy didn’t work – the retirees looked great even though they’re closer to 70 than they are to me (and also have had more than their share of health issues). And #2 still looks like he did in 1998!

Old age – better than the alternative—and definitely not for sissies. Like Steve Martin, guess I'll just have to learn to like it.

Colorado Cool

Just got back from a week in Denver and Steamboat Springs. Our plan was to escape some of our Texas heat and see a few of our cool relatives. Well, at least we saw the relatives.

First up was our eldest who lives in an apartment with a very cool view of downtown "Little D." You want to keep your eyes focused on the view outside of his living area-- evidently it is not very cool to keep the inside clean and organized (perhaps just an unproductive use of one's time when one is a financial guru of the bachelor persuasion who is training for a marathon).

Next on our list was my BBL's niece and god-daughter who is one-half of the mile and a half high Double D B&B. While we didn't stay overnight, we did manage to wrangle a gourmet grilled dinner, get introduced to geo-caching, watch a garden try to grow at 8200' and all the while listened to what winter (which evidently starts in in about 60 days) can be like (i.e. VERY, VERY cool!).

On to Steamboat where we lodged at the Sheraton, having secured a good deal if we listened to their version of a timeshare --oops, sorry, meant to say "vacation ownership". Our 90 minute investment grew to 180 minutes before we told Joe "No!" which meant we were late to arrive at the Yampa Remodeling School run by BBL's nephew. Here we witnessed a very cool home expansion project in progress where the sky (literally) was their roof--at least over the dining room! Unfortunately, the day they removed the roof, it poured. Probably would have been better if it had snowed instead.

A couple of observations:
- Subaru's are still the"national" car of Colorado, although the Audi Quattro seems to be gaining ground;
- Gas is more expensive than in any neighboring state and the already high price increases with altitude;
- The Pine beetle is destroying the beauty of the land--naturally. Where are the tree huggers when you need them?
- Strenuous physical activity is mandatory if one is a resident--and one must profess to love it!
- Colorado seemed even cooler when we got home to "Big D" where a brave thermometer was registering 107 degrees!

Obit: Seven Words for George Carlin

He lived. He died. I hardly cried.

As you might guess, I wasn't a big fan of his, which is the case with most of the performers whose stock in trade is "blue" material. I will say that George seemed more intelligent than most. I'd rather remember him for his classic question: "Why do we park on driveways and drive on parkways?"

But his "seven words" trial is a historical footnote, just like George is now. Even though he lost that battle 30 years ago, at times it seems he won the war [HBO's Deadwood and Comedy Central's South Park come to mind]. I'm apparently not alone. Even before Janet Jackson's infamous wardrobe malfunction during the 2004 Super Bowl, public complaints to the FCC about broadcast indecency were jumping exponentially — from fewer than 14,000 in 2002 to nearly 170,000 in 2003. In the first half of 2006, the last statistics the FCC's beleaguered enforcement bureau has compiled, there were more than 327,000 complaints--and none of them was from me (yet).

Go see Brian Regan instead.

Nothing Like A Seizure To Shake Up Your Routine

Another "first" to add to my 59th year. It was barely Thursday morning when I woke up dreaming that my left arm was either asleep or immoveable. Got up and headed for the kitchen for a cereal & yogurt snack that has become pretty much my routine when I can't sleep but felt funny and sat down in the living room. A few minutes later a slow involuntary twitching started. I yelled for my BBL to wake up and help her hubby who was just starting his imitation of being a fish out of water.

She assisted me back to the bedroom following the first rule to get seizure victims to a safe place. We started our debate on what to do next. I was for sitting it out and she was for driving me to an emergency room. Meanwhile the twitching had accelerated to a much quicker pace which made it impossible to get dressed. We comprimised on calling 911. By the time the paramedics arrived, the bed seemed to have developed "magic fingers" (make that fists) on steroids. We were thankful that we had not attempted to drive.

The last thing I remember from the evening was being loaded in the ambulance and one of the EMT's swearing because he couldn't find the medicine he was looking for. I assume he eventually found it because I don't remember anything more until I woke up in the hospital room at 6:00am.

That's when I discovered the weakened left side and lack of coordination (again) in the left hand and arm. But what was really wierd were the sensations in my left hand: although my hand was empty and still, every 10-15 seconds it felt like I was holding a different object with a different tactile feel. e.g. a piece of duct tape; a slippery poker chip; a glass brick; a sponge; a worm; a blister; peeling skin; etc. etc. You get the idea. Very disconcerting. It was like my brain was trying to find a "system restore point" but just like my Vista computer it was failing to do so. But two CT scans, an MRI and an EEG later, the neurologist announced that he thought everything was OK except for some brain slowing in the area where the staph infection had been.

No answers though as to what might have prompted the event or what to do differently if it happens again. Can't help but think if I had only made it to the Cheerios I would have been OK!

Time marches on . . .

just got back from a full week in Northern Illinois where we stayed with the in-laws who are proud residents in Spider Webb's Sunset City -- an immaculate and very symetrical retirement community of ~5800 homes that seem to have about six different styles and four different paint schemes. Their oldest son is also a resident here and lives conveniently close (only about 400 homes away). Since he is roughly my age, I'm still amazed that he meets the minimum qualifying age to be a resident.

During our visit, my BBL had her 50umpth birthday (she qualifies for residency too) which was reason enough to bring the family together. All BBL's siblings (with the exception of sister JoCaliforniAnn) showed up with a nice smattering of nieces & nephews - a testament to the attractiveness of good weather, cake, ice cream and a mystery libation served by sister/hostess JR.

We had forgotten how early the summer sun rises when you're this close to the top of the world. The birds start "going off" about 4:30am (no snooze buttons) and if you're on the East side of the house you can start working on your tan around 5:00am. And if nature doesn't wake you up early, the paramedics visit across the street will.

The weather was, for the most part, delightful. Still, the l0w 70 degree temps were a shock to our system and we came home "wid a duesy of a code." On the way to O'Hare, we filled up the rental car with $4.22 a gallon gas (providing another shock to our system). Now that we are somewhat acclimated, we look forward to our return in August for the Really Really Big Family Reunion that they are having for my birthday!

Thanks for our freedom . . .

According to CBS Sunday Morning, Arlington National Cemetary has 27 - 30 funerals a day.

If blogging is so simple . . .

why did it take me hours to figure out how to add hyperlinks? When I found the "trick", it really ticked me off that it was so simple (and this is where I fall back on the best excuse I've ever had) -"not that bad for somone who has had brain surgery!"


You may note that I've gone back and added a few hyperlinks to previous posts (click on those blue words and you'll quickly find yourself somewhere else). Also I've added two easy ways for you to subscribe to this blog so you won't miss any more insightful gems (or crap) in the future [over there to the right, up at the top of the column].


In my research, I stumbled across an offer for additional (gratis) blogging education -- all I have to do is post the following here:
***************
I'm evaluating a multi-media course on blogging from the folks at Simpleology. For a while, they're letting you snag it for free if you post about it on your blog.

It covers:

• The best blogging techniques.
• How to get traffic to your blog.
• How to turn your blog into money.

I'll let you know what I think once I've had a chance to check it out. Meanwhile, go grab yours while it's still free.

*****************

Being my mother's son (she could never pass up clipping a coupon), I've done the deed. Now I can't wait to receive my free education. Mom would have entered in her coupon log that she had just saved $x. Yeah, she really did that. As a "stay at home Mom", it was her way of demonstrating her contrbution to the family's financial picture since she was emphatic that her saving on expenditures was just the same as "making" the money in the first place. Actually better, since all her "revenue" was tax-free!

Rediscovering Love

Just got back from my first flying trip in six months. Since my Platinum status is still active, I had checked fares on American over two weeks ago for flights to OKC, with a return from Tulsa the following day: over $1,000 round trip! After I got up from the floor, I modified the itinerary to look at going up to just TUL and back the same day: aha! a much "better" fare: only ~$550! I dusted off the http://www.iflyswa.com/ URL in my Favorites folder and checked their fare: $259 including peanuts. Even someone who has had brain surgery can make the prudent decision here.

Truthfully, I haven't flown Southwest out of Dallas for at least 5 years. Not because I have anything against the airline; quite the contrary, it's refreshing to have an airline perform as well as they do, with a hint of fun and a believeable patina in customer facing employees that they are glad you chose their humble company. The main obstacle has been that they fly out of Love Field (just north of downtown Big D). I think 90% of the traffic hassles that significantly consume one's time and patience around here exist between my house and Love.

Because my bodacious beautiful lady (BBL) had serious doubts that I could even find this airport again by myself, she volunteered to chauffer me this morning. Together we discovered that traffic hassles are minimal at 5:30am. I found myself in the security line at 6:10 looking at a huge sign proclaiming Love Field the #1 airport in the country in customer satisfaction according to J.D. Powers. I suspect Mr. Powers wasn't polling anyone at this hour when the rating was determined since it took almost as long to clear 100 yards in the security line as it took us to drive the ~30 miles to the airport.

The security queue was one of those UUU arrangements so popular at amusement parks, where you snake back and forth looking at the same 20 people who are ahead and behind you in line. I couldn't help noticing that apparently the very early morning hours are not very kind to the attractiveness of the North Texas flying female. To this untrained eye, there did not appear to be much "lovable" about their appearance or attitude!

Thirteen hours later I was back at Love Field after having spent the day in Tulsa with a Marine escort who sells our products whenever he isn't on active duty. Got to say the landings at Love are more exciting (seems to be a faster and steeper descent than at DFW). And, to be fair, when I passed the security line at 7:30 pm, there had been a role reversal: Now the males appeared to have turned wrinkled and surly! You gotta love the irony of it.

This is work?

One of the first email exchanges with a customer upon my return to work:

Him to me -
Subject: Freight
My man in S. A. is hearing that your company is going to freight collect with an order charge. That being true, would you please give me your competition's phone number?

Me to him -
RE: Freight
"Only for shipments that go every other Thursday between the hours of 10pm and midnight, unless your order was entered on an odd-numbered day before noon. Still the best deal in the industry! Thanks for allowing me to clear this up for you."

Nice to know I still have it! (Wonder why he hasn't ordered lately?)

Why am I doing this?

It's been an interesting year so far: a craniotomy in early January to address the larger of two chronic sub-dural hematomas in my head that were the result of getting hit in a crosswalk by a fine upstanding citizen of Little Chute, WI (who was driving without insurance and under the influence of something other than alcohol). Then a staph brain infection, a byproduct of the craniotomy which resulted in a second one. After many weeks of antibiotic treatment, the old noggin got a cranioplasty to replace the missing bone flap with space age materials designed to seal off my skull's "pop-top." I'm very thankful that my surgeon remained focused during all of these procedures and didn't sucumb to any latent desire to be a GYN and perform a "D and C'" up there.

During this journey, the family and I started communicating with others interested in our situation via a website called CaringBridge (highly recommended). Over time, our posts there transformed from the mere facts ["he's in the operating room"; "he had his 1st solid food";
"the nurse was surprised by the size of his BM"] to more commentary on the first hand experience of being the subject of hospital procedures, workman's comp, side effects of medicine, etc.

The commentary portion seemed to resonate with some of the readership who have carelessly (recklessly?) encouraged me to continue blogging my thoughts and experiences. The idea has been bouncing around in the old noggin (there appears to be more room up there these days for new thoughts), and then we had a close encounter last week with an experienced blogger (aka a friend and customer) who was brave enough to accept an invitation to be our house guest during his business trip to the Metroplex. We discovered he maintains two blogs (he's such an over- achiever): The Dry Spot and Born Again Cubs Fan -- the latter one really endeared him to my bodacious beautiful lady (that's "Tex-Mex" for wife)!

So "ceeelcee" unintentionally (and unknowingly) pushed me off dead center. We'll see how this experiment plays out. Proceed at your own risk.