All I want for Christmas is Intestinal Colic

The closer we got to Western New York, the pain got worse. A rolling pain in my gut similar to the contractions my wife described during birth, except not as severe... yet. I could ignore it no longer, round about midnight we headed for the ER over in Wellsville, NY.
Just before we arrived at the hospital, the gut wrenching contractions stopped. I still felt like crap. My belly felt like that guy in the first Alien movie just before the creature popped out of him. I made it to the ER, but I was completely wore out and just about went down in the waiting room.
I regained most of my composure lying on the gurney as the nurse started an iv and hooked me up to various machines. They sent me through the big magic donut (CT) with contrast to see what the problem might be. The image was sent all the way to the land down under to be read by some doctor in Sidney. One hour later the doctor announced the scan was normal. I lay there dozing off until 6am when the doc told me I could go home if I felt good enough. Intestinal colic is what he thought it might be. Don't know why nor how... just happened.
I slept until 1:30 today and had a bit of soup to eat. I'm still not very hungry. Very odd for me.
Stay tuned, I'll let you know how I'm doing in a few days.

20 point lead

Look at that Hair!!

I make it to almost every game, camera in hand and a plan of attack to get the best shot. Most of the teams we play are pretty much equal in skills to our team. Every once in a awhile we encounter an opponent with a not so gifted group of middle school BB players.
Such was the case this week in Lake City. The first squad racked up a large lead, and by the second half my favorite player was told to check in. From the second he stepped onto the hardwood, my shutter never silenced.
A commanding performance from the second string kept the lead to the end of the game. Even more impressive, number 15, showed energy and charisma through the last two quarters. What a great night!
I will continue to attend games to the end of the schedule. Sitting in the top row and camera in hand. Watching closely for that nod from the coach, and the OK for my favorite player to play.
All games are won by some margin, 2 points, 3 points, whatever right? Not for me. It's not a good match-up unless we have a 20 point lead.
Bring on that second string!!

Griswold, no. A bit overboard... Definitely

Our Home Christmas 2007

Last year we won the sub-division Christmas decorating competition here in the luxurious Gulfwood neighborhood. Not able to win two years in a row and against my better judgement, I put up lights anyway and even went bigger this time. Added this season; 3 reindeer, 3 wisemen, 4 triangle trees and blanket lights in my pear tree (actually Taxus baccata yews).

I had too, after all - its the meaning of Christmas... isn't it?

Neighbor Tom

Oh - and the idol threats from neighbors, "I'm gonna out-do you this year Basegasket, just wait and see!" , didn't help either.

Sister Second Place. I'm so proud of her

Then there is my sister just down the street. She comes across like a non-competitor, then makes 4 trips to Walmart for more lights... a day! She bought so many lights you can see her house from satellite images.
All in good spirits and holiday fun.
And the real winner is... LCUB!! My electric bill will be about $75 more this December.
Merry Christmas you corporate thugs!

Project Magnolia

I've always considered myself a pretty good shade tree mechanic, and I have collected a fair amount of tools along the years. Both attributes came by force of design, and not by choice. I could never afford a vehicle that didn't need repair and I could never afford someone to fix one for me. A collection of Chilton's repair manuals matching all the rides I drove through the years sits in a box in the attic waiting to be listed on eBay.
Project Magnolia, credit to Tennessee Jed for naming her, has sent me back to Borders Books to buy yet another repair guide and bust some knuckle. This time for a 97 Jeep Cherokee.
Given name; Basketcase, my white elephant seemed like a money pit at first, but has turned into a cash cow. Yes, I have thrown some parts at her; Fuel pump, water pump, radiator, front brakes and rotors, t-stat and new carpet... so far. I'm getting her into ship shape before the reinsertion into Craigslist. With a book value of about $3800, Sweet Magnolia could yield some payola... Cha Ching!!! All Right!! X-tra cash!!!

I don't think so... Remember this post? Visa Commercial.

More to come

So much to blog about... So little time

Whether it's side work, overtime, boy's "A" basketball, project magnolia, or one of any thousands of events going on in the house, there is always something preventing a minute or 2 to sit and post a bit.
There are many exciting things going on around here and I'm chomping at the bit to tell you, like the job situation and letters of recommendation; you just have to hear about that. There's the x-ray where they found a very foreign object in my chest cavity, betcha can't wait for that one. The antic's at Commiserateville, living with teens, Jed and me on the square. Oh and I have to tell you about my new partner at work... you'll love this guy.
Even now I have to rush off to work. Sorry, we'll catch up soon!

PS Christmas lights on the house... 20,000 of them! Pictures coming soon.

Basketcase Basegasket

The Greatest web site in the world, craigslist has yielded yet another gem. 1997 Jeep Cherokee, 102k miles and bone stock. I can't tell you how much I paid for it, but after the guy signed the title over to me, it was on the trailer and gone in 60 seconds!
No it won't start and I think the tranny is bad. It has a layer of mold on it and the interior is trashed. The intake manifold was recently vacated by some neighborhood squirrel. The taillight is broken along with the driver's seat. Needs a battery too.
Officially a basketcase, a term used by my biker friends referring to a motorcycle too far gone to repair without loosing your ass, I felt bad for the neglected orphan sitting in the driveway. The family abandoned her for 2 years, and selling her only to make room for a gas grill or something. How sad!!

:-(

I'll get the power washer out tomorrow and blow off the years of neglect and rodent poop. Get the two year old gas out of the tank and get her a new battery. Get her running... see if she'll go to Sonic for a corn dog and a sweet tea with me.
What should I name her?

ETSU or bust... or UTK... or UTC... or MTSU...

Three cheers to my oldest who has been officially accepted to join the East Tenn State University family. We receivd the letter this week announcing the good news. My guess would be that this is the easy part of the process. The next few years will be full of decisions and changes.

I feel a bit sorry for him with all the details he has to decipher that make up this whole process. I don't know how anyone does it, I can't even figure out all the initials for the different schools around here. With that said, He does appear to have this college thing under wraps, and I'm excited for His future plans.
So over the next few years as I type my own brand of flummery into this blog, we will track the rest of this learning process as it continues. How exciting and suspenseful it will be as we wait for the daily (weekly, monthly, depends on how fast the cash runs out) updates. Grades, activities, adventures, new love...
Stay tuned for the next exciting episode!

On the edge of your seat are you?

Eighteen

He's a good kid.
He picks only good people to hang with. He engages you in conversation. He cleans up after himself w/o being asked. He's a good driver and a man of his word. He is a musical talent with a servant's heart. He's even-tempered and thoughtful. He knows how to have a good time and manages to come home uninjured. He does great impersonations and loves to make people laugh. He can spot a good girl and knows how to treat her like a lady. He's a worshiper and loves God.
Hmmm... How did this happen? Where did the boy come from? The best of his Mom? The best of his Dad? I'm not sure, and it really doesn't matter, because when it comes to him, he is the one who makes the rules.
The other day he downloaded Freebird. Typical of a budding young man on the verge of life. A line in the song goes "For I must be travelling on, now, Cause there's too many places I've got to see." He will move on soon. It's hard for me to accept at times but deep inside I feel confident about all his tomorrows. I can't wait to see what he'll do next. You watch, it'll be great.
We had him for 18 years and now... world...it's your turn! Watch closely, you will be impressed.

Real Life Visa Commercial

In the past month;

School tuition for one month... $1700
Senior trip deposit...$350
College applications...$145
Cap, gown and senior pictures...$297
Homecoming for three...$160
Middle school Basketball...$150
Matching warm-ups...$75
Matching shoes...$88
Middle school Baseball...$375
Misc. fees, books, ect...$263

Watching me sit on the couch doing that thing with my finger on my lips that makes that funny noise wondering how to pay for all this....

Priceless

Mary=Glue

It has been over a year since we packed the U-haul and left everything familiar. Mom and Dad, Brothers and Sisters, Cousins and all our friends... home. Don't misunderstand me, not one minute have we regretted our decision to come to K-town, and believe me, we love it. New neighbors, school, church, and all our new acquaintances. Oh and what fun learning the new language. Where I used to cut off my tee shirt sleeves, and plug up the toilet... now I cut off the water faucet and plug up the lamp. (confusing? I agree...)
Even with all the great things that have happened, we still long for the presence of family.
Four years ago as I was searching every web site for tid-bits about our potential new home, I tried to imagine how we would fit into the community here. Pointing at maps of neighborhoods I would create "a day in the life" for my family in their new surroundings; shop here, go there, live here and church there... All well planned out, a well oiled suburban life machine.
Sadly, not in the picture was the warmth and comfort of blood relations we had grown so accustomed to.
Fifteen months later and I still think one of the greatest miracles I have seen yet is my sister and Mom moving to East Tennessee. It truly has made our transition here... Complete!
It has been so long since my sister and I have been close, geographically. If it were not for her efforts, nothing would have changed. "I want to be closer to my brother and his family!" she exclaimed to me about 8 months ago, and now we share the same street, same church, same restaurant on Sunday and the same teen taxi cab duties. What fun!! We have family again!
Oh but sometimes things don't go so well with family, do they? Arguments, disagreements, and strife sometimes lead to separation. Sad, but it happens, and it's tragic. How can that tragedy be avoided?... "Glue" silly I know. Anything that comes apart needs glue. If it don't want to stay together, put more glue on it! My goodness! Glue is the main ingredient in duct tape. How important is that? Glue grabs on to two things and makes them stick together.
Today we celebrate my sister's birthday, as a family no less. Frick and Frack will come by later with all their antics. The kids will be together sharing all the drama of the standard issue teenager. Peter will walk around just being cute. Cake will be eaten along with everything else in sight , compliments of #9. I can't wait, it will be fun to watch... It will be comfortable... warm. A perfect scene. I will sit amongst the clan members with confidence of family unity because we have the glue!
Happy birthday Mary... Thank you for everything you do for this family.

How the Other Half Lives

Every once in a while I get myself into a situation where I say " I never thought I would be doing this..." Well it happened again. A friend asked if he could use my truck and trailer for the weekend to move his race car. I obliged but I would need something to drive home. My choices, a Honda Passport, a Hummer H3 (not bad) or a Cadillac XLR...

Hmmmn... guess which one I picked?
The XLR is the sister car to the new C6 Corvette, except with a ton of bells lights and buzzers. Leather, performance, topless....$$80,000$$... Me, I don't think so. City workerrrrrr, remember!
Still it was nice, and for 47 hours and 148 miles I got a taste of how the other half lives.
Only one question... What does having "expendable cash" mean?

Shipley

Sad news came from WNY this week. A close friend and riding buddy passed on to the great dice run in the sky. A special service will be held on Saturday at the first Baptist Church. His bike, dressed with a black ribbon, will be displayed outside the church. If you rode with Shipley, you are to show up with your scooter for one final ride, in honor of a great dude.
I guess years of abuse to his body, all in the name of good times and friends finally caught up with him. Even though he never appeared weak or tired or frail, on the contrary he came across, as if you deserved it, he would kick your ass just to polish his boot buckle. They told me he had a heart attack, and all the kings men at Millard Fillmore couldn't bring him back again. Strange... Huh?
This past summer Donny lost his wife Sondra. I was there when he came home from the hospital and gave me the bad news. On the outside we all agreed we would go on without her, "She would want us to..." I couldn't help to think to myself... How will Donny do with out his lady? He was very sad, very empty, his heart was hurt.
Can someone die of a broken heart?
Don taught me all there is to know about being a biker. He was hard core to the bone. Tattoos, sideburns, black pick-up, and a hot woman on the back. I shared the road with him for at least 10,000 miles. Three things I learned from riding with him; I always ate good, I always laughed out loud (a lot) and I always felt I was with a loyal friend.
I saw him for the last time back in July. It looked like he was going to be OK. Happy, and riding with his band of bikers.
I miss Shipley. I miss him a lot. My bff

Sweet Sixteen

She used to follow me around the farm like a loyal dog. Clean the stall, fix the tractor, cultivate the crops, she knew her Dad needed the guidance that only she could provide. As time passed changes came. Barn boots have been replaced by RocketDogs and where Jinn's brush could be found now a cell phone resides. Dad? well... Dad can handle things on his own thanks to the years of Mentoring from his little girl.
Changes... what a plethora of emotions attached to that word. My oldest looking at colleges, my youngest doubling in size every month and my girl... my sweet sixteen, lets go there.
It was like yesterday (actually seems like 6 to 8 years at the most) we were at St. Francis. It was early morning. I was frustrated as I watched a rotund nurse trying to attach cardiac monitor clips to my new born girl with the gingerliness of a blacksmith. Unable to get the job done, She turned to get help and I swiftly slid my hand under the incubator and clicked the electrode to the pad. As the monitor picked up the signal... Flash! I'm in her bedroom on Irving St tucking her in... Flash! A new puppy named Jack and sledding in the backyard... Flash! An amazing essay and a horse named Jinn... Flash! Boobs! Oh my God! Flash! Cell phone... Flash! High school... Flash! Instant messaging... Flash! Boys!... (I hate boys) Flash! "Dad I want a car" Flash! $$$$$
Flash... of my camera as I snap shots of a beautiful young woman with her friends on the Tennessee River boat during her sweet sixteen celebration.
And now, as tears roll down my cheeks, I tap away trying to collect thoughts. It's very hard with all this flashing and spinning going on around me. I wish I could play a less static role in her life. She is so dynamic and complex, and at the same time simple and natural. I want to be one of her best friends. Dads don't have the privilege of that roll I guess, and my efforts to do so have left me looking like a dork or something really odd to her. I don't mean to come across like that, Sorry.
Kenny Chesney sings it in the song "Don't Blink", The words to this song written from the view from the eyes of a 100 year old man. At 42, I feel a lot of these sentiments already.
Baby, I'm so excited for all the great things you have yet to experience, and for all the experiences that have brought you to this moment. Wow how exciting to be so young with so much life ahead of you. Just one more thing, a simple request...If you could grant me one wish before I turn 100... It would be to take one more walk across a pasture somewhere... both of us wearing barn boots.

Grapevine wrath

A co-worker, and non-smoker at COK, we'll call him "tomato" was peddling raffle tickets one morning. He purchased some magazines from me earlier in the year so I reciprocacted the gesture and bought some of his tickets. Never expecting to win anything. Just a couple bucks toward a good cause.
Two weeks later now and the ticket stubs snuggled into their new home at the landfill, I get a call late one night.... "Is this John?..." Puzzled I replied "Who's asking?" Pause... " have something fer you" Now I'm sure this is a prank call, and the Yankee in me came out. Rudely I replied " I don't want it!!". This guy with the phone skills of a 6 year old, proceeded to inform me of the results of the raffle drawing. Our conversation continued filled with solecism and that union county slang I will never understand. I was informed that I was the lucky winner and proud owner of the cherished Grape Vine Wreath

The next morning I waited with baited breath (I don't know exactly what that means, but I heard someone say that once.) for tomato to arrive with my Grape Vine Wreath, did I mention it was valued at over $100. As it emerged from the back seat of his car, I noticed the goofy smirk on his face on the verge of belly laugh. He was able to ward off the belly laugh and handed me the prize. Trying not to stare at the hideous creature, I quickly moved it to the back seat of my truck and covered it with a rain coat.
It rode back there with the doors unlocked for 2 days, with hopes someone would steal it. no such luck, I had to bring it inside. I set it on the hearth.
As each member of my unit saw it, the responses were all the same... What is that??
We discussed options as to the future of the prize... Strip it and put Christmas light on it or donate it to a nursing home, preferably the wing with the most vision impaired guests, were the top choices. It most likely would sit on the hearth and after a dozen hits from book filled backpacks, just vacuum up the remnants and presto! gone forever.
You didn't think it would end there would you? Nooooooo! Another call from junior samples grandmarshall and fund raiser virtuoso. "I need a picture of you with the wreath for the local newspaper...ASAP." (You know one of the things I have learned as I have progressed into my 40's is to hold my tongue and keep comments to myself.) resisting the urge to say all sorts of egregious things, I responded with a shaky OK.

I wouldn't be pictured dead with this thing so I sacrificed my oldest son to the ignoble god of the Grapevine Wrath.

Arrivederci al Luciano grande

I'm not much of a classic music aficionado, but I can recognize a decent tenor when I hear one, dag gummit!!! I was mousing thru the kids I-tunes collection when I came across a Celine Dion tune. It caught my eye because it was a duet with the late Luciano Pavarotti. I clicked on the selection and slipped my head phones on.
I Hate You Then I Love You; (Open in a new tab and the song will play... eventually.) A soothing duet with some modern touches of pop genre, It is the first time I heard Luciano sing a song in English. I couldn't stop the song, I just wanted to hear every word, every note. I didn't sing along, I sat quietly until the next track cued. Simply amazed.
The Italian Tenor died 9-6-07... I would have to hope that a tenor seat in God's Angelic choir has been filled.
Goodbye to the great Luciano.