Back to the world and a new decade

I'm back from 5 days of carefree camping out in the sticks. Great times and good memories.
I'm loading the pics now on shutterfly and will post out the pics soon. Meantime, I've got about 45 minutes left of my 20's left and after a long 5 days, I'm tired and am gonna crash out. After all, I have to work manana morning (yes, I am working on my birthday).
It's all good though, cuz after I'm off, the official party is gonna pop off Halloween B-day style!
I'm sure ther'll be pics of that too. Boy...
Welcome to middle age Marc.

Day long fly-by

(Me in front of the Navy WWII corsair)

Man, what a day on Sunday. No football or drinking though this time.

I get off at work on Saturday at 4am only to come home and take a 45 minute nap. I get up at 6am, meet up with Chris and we head out to Goodyear for the airshow spectacular!! I pound down 2 rockstars and get some energy flowing. We watched the news the night before and saw that the organizers this year made a mess of the event. We took our chances anyways.

We get there, park the jeep in the dirt lot and are amazed of how dusty the parking lot was. We didn't know we'd be sitting in the same stuff. The organizers decided in their infinite wisdom, to move the airshow from the site in Glendale (which was large, completely paved and had a good parking area) to the old Naval base in Goodyear ( a Naval base in AZ?? yes...). The airport was significantly larger, but unpaved. You walked on dirt the whole time. To add to it, the parking area was a mile away and they tried to use shuttles to bring the people in. 10 school busses and 4 private vehicles to shuttle 30,000 people. Um, yeah...

So, we get to the main concourse, find a spot on the flight line fence and then go wandering off to explore. There was a larger number of planes at this years show. A lot of really, really cool WWII planes. Most of which you could actually come up, touch, stick your head under the bomb bays, etc. We explored from 8-10am, then pulled up in our seats for the show. The show starts and we turn around to see that the crowd has grown from the 1000 when we arrived to about the 20,000+ that surrounded us now.

That's when some problems arose. 20,000+ peeps on a hot dirt lot = a permanent dust cloud for 8 hours. I must have ingested 5 lbs of dust. It covered everything. Well, my sunblock, allergies, bright sunshine and dust mixed in my right eye, which then proceeded to swell shut for he rest of the day. But, the show I saw through my one eye was phenominal. I took some awesome pics and vids on my camera, which I'll post shortly on shutterfly and my sites soon.

We ended the show with watching the Blue Angels perform. These guys are adrenaline crazed crackheads with a death wish. The pucker-factor of some of the stunts they pulled made my shorts get sucked up in my ass. Strictly awesome.

We left, or at least tried to. 20,000+ leaving through one exit on limited shuttles. Niiice. We wait in line for our shuttle for 25 minutes and moved 20 ft. The past two days at the show, they refused to let people walk off due to being at a secure area, but this time they said fuck it. So we hoofed it the mile and a half to the jeep. Looking back to see that throng of people it reminded me of a herd of freggin buffalo (which there was some heffers there that day) or of Moses leading his people out of Egypt.

We get to the jeep, drive home, hit Native for wings and a beer, then I head home to wash off the dust and pass out by 1030. All in all, a great day, from the one eye I could see out of. I'd do it all again though in a heartbeat.

Maverick, call the ball

Yay! The Glendale airshow is manana! Papi and I are gonna be up at the butt-crack of dawn to drive out to Litchfield Park at 6am to check out the airshow. We'll be out there til 5pm watching some of America's finest machines streak through the sky. After that we'll spend a little time planning out this week's camp trip.

Peace out Maverick!

My dad's dumb luck.

Sadly, my folks departed today to head back to Cali. They'll spend a day or two at my aunt's beach house in Oceanside before heading back to the cold, frigid tundra of SF that they hate to return to.

I swear, my Dad has the Midas touch. Or at least its uncanny dumb luck. On the way here to AZ, they had a free room in a casino in Palm Springs. They crashed there and played for 2 days. Dad leaves there with $5800 that he won off a nickel slot machine. That's a lot of fucking nickels. Not that I'd mind. It I'd won that much, I'd happily sit on my ass for 2 days straight rolling rolls of nickels. He should be happy that they don't actually give out the coins any longer. All he had to do was cash in a slip of paper.

Anyways, last Thursday we decide to head out to Gila River casino here in AZ. I invite my ex to join the fray since she's not doing anything. At the very least it was good company to have since I don't gamble. I'll just sit at the bar and enjoy cocktails. We were there about 2 hours. I lose $50 playing nickels and I'm done and pissed. Dad is playing away on a machine when I mention that we should all go soon. Mom is losing and is getting tired. Dad says to wait 5 minutes. He has 250 credits on his machine after starting with 100. We hang tight for a few and then come back to see what he's up to. He's up to 750 credits. That's cool. He either wants to get to 800 or down to 700. He gets to 704 before calling it quits. Hey, 700 quarters isn't bad. But wait! He and I are fooled! We think that he's playing a quarter machine, but when he gets his slip printed, turns out her was playing on a dollar machine. Jackass!!!! Dumb ignorant luck I tell you. He just gets $700 bucks. We laugh all the way home.

It was very pleasant to have them here for a bit. I would have liked them to stay longer, but Dad is Dad and when he wants to leave, its time to go.

We got a lot accomplished while he was here outside of spending quality time with the rents. We fixed the drip system, renovated the front yard a little, patched some walls up in the garage, looked at some income properties, met up with Rita our realtor, and even put a conditional bid on a property (which fell apart when the owners wouldn't negotiate).

Had dinner every night with each other, enjoyed the beautiful weather and each other. Seeing what they both went through in the past 2 months, they looked really good. Mom had moments of weakness, but it was just her being tired. I could tell she was happy. Jenny got spoiled rotten by them, and I have to admit, so did I. I was in a better mood all week, eager to get home and hang with them, and saddened to see them leave this morning.

The rents and a 3 day update

So I get a call from the rents on Thursday telling me that they are going to attempt a drive out to Palm Springs to pay a casino a visit. Ah yes..some people respond well to medicine, some to love and family, some on the sheer refusal to feel sickly. My folks on the other hand rebound easily when there is mention of a possible trip to a casino. Less than 2 weeks out of surgery with a potential life threatening situation, my Mom says screw the morphine, get me in front of a freggin slot machine!!!
They made it to Palm Springs on Friday and stayed for their two free nights there. My Dad's ricockulous dumb luck strikes again, this time for $5800 in jackpots on nickel slots. That's a lot of fucking nickels. Pure profit on this one, started winning off the bat.
With their gambling account fat and happy again, they made it out here to the desert on Sunday afternoon.
I had invited a few select friends over for Sunday football that morning, but the only person not busy was Crystal. Ironically, she meets the parents as a current ex. Strange, yes, uncomfortable, no. We've been getting over the uncomfortable awkwardness of the post-break up and have been able to talk again, and even hung out briefly once or twice.
Anyways, Crystal splits, leaving me and the folks to chew the fat for the rest of the night. I make them Choppino for dinner. A tasty seafood stew with plenty of fish, crab, calimari, mussels and potatoes. They are spent and crash early. I stay up for a bit and decide to head out to Scottsdale for a few minutes to at the very least grab my paycheck and check my schedule. I head up to work, do the said tasks, and hang out having a beer talking with Ben who's working door that night. He needed some extra cash, so he asks to take my Tuesday morning shift. I oblige, knowing that I probably won't miss the $30 bucks. It's lame and I'm tired, so I head home and crash out.
Now then...let me explain something about my pop. Dad is a stubborn workhorse. His ideas of vacation don't include sunny beaches, mountain retreats, sitting on cruise ships sucking down a mai tai. If he isn't doing chores, fixer-uppers, or something productive, he's not very happy. That said, he and I have taken on various projects around the house. Past 2 days we have dug up, overhauled and repaired the ailing drip system in the front yard. By the middle of the day today, I wanted to stuff a bunch of C4 in the pipes and blow the fucker up, along with half the plants in the front. 3 trips to the hardware stores trying to fix various parts ranging from $7 to $40. What turned out to work to fix one of the major problems? Taking one of the existing parts-a three cent pump spring, and stretching out the tension a little. Let the celebrations and cursing commence. Drip system done.
While we were working on the system, I was trying out some new recipes for dinner tonight. Slow cooked, Hawaiian style Imu pulled pork. If it works well, its a possible future candidate for a Holiday party menu item. I'm basically waiting on the outcome of tonight's meal to generate a party menu and theme. Speaking of, I gotta go pull some pork out of the oven and mash up some sweet potatoes.

X'plorin

In a dazed mindset Wednesday night at work hopped up on rockstars and irate customers, I decided that I should get the hell out of Phoenix for at least half a day and do some exploring up north past Payson and maybe a little south in the high desert. So, I leave work at 3:15 in the morning and head home.
I grab a backpack with basic emergency supplies, my rifle, some warmer clothes, a small cooler with water and drinks, my dog and I leave home at 6 am. Pull up into the Mesa QT and fuel up the truck and I. A vitamin B pill, jalepeno bagel dog, double strength mocha and a rockstar later and I'm plenty awake.
The drive is actually fast and pleasant. Jenny is passed out behind me, occasionally shoving her nose in the jumpseat window leaving snot trails on the glass to try and smell the air. The sun is starting to burst over four peaks as I stream up north, passing up a roadkill smorgasboard of coyotes, rabbits, skunks and I think one porcupine. As soon as I pass four peaks, the temperature drops ten degrees. It's chilly and I actually drive with the window mostly up.
An hour later I get up to Payson. The sleepy town is just starting to wake up. People out walking in heavy coats, and its rush hour on the road- which means there is like 30 cars driving around. I see that they are having their Western Heritage Day and festival this Saturday. Interesting. Sucks I'm stuck working that night. Would have been fun.
I head north still, exiting Payson and get immersed in the Ponderosa. It's a quick 13 mile drive to my turnoff at Pine for the control road. I make it there quick and head down the 6 miles of dirt to the camp area we want to use. My fear is that the past year's Bryn fire had destroyed much of that area as they had it closed for quite some time. Half the road is smooth, and then as soon as I passed a man working on a grader, it got a rough. I make it to Webber Creek though. I pass a few sites we thought about using for larger groups, one of which is residing 3 large tow trailer homes. Guessing hunters, lazy ones at that. Ones that live close by, but park their trailers for use on the weekends so they guarantee they have a spot. I roll past them and park at our Camp Jethroe- home of the 3rd annual drunken squirrel call championships. Its cold. Well, 50 degrees cold. I'm used to 90. Its nice and I quickly adapt. Jenny goes nuts and explores. The site is smaller than I remember. Definitely greener. It has rained recently up here. The creek is flowing and the water is dirty, the usual for the morning hours, it'll be clear again in the afternoon. Why it does that? I dunno. Amazingly, the site is clean. A random- and I mean random bottle cap or cig butt is around and some busted glass, but all localized in one area. I take in the atmosphere for a few. The only sounds I hear are the morning birds waking up and the constant soothing flow of the creek. It's like one of those relaxation CD's you hear at the Discovery store. Only this is live and free.
I split and head back along the way I came. Halfway down the road I stumble across a herd of elk across the road. One tough one stops and stares and gives me a photo op. Snap. See above.
Back on the highway I head back south. A mile away the Tonto Natural Bridge state park is to the right. I turn in to investigate, and realize that there is a fee to be paid and they may not allow firearms, so I chose not to go this time.
Back through Payson, I head to Mt. Ord and Bushnell Tanks before heading home. I explored the backcountry road of Mt Ord for about 6 miles in. It went from desert to ponderosa pines in 1/6th that distance. You are ascending with a quickness. The road is rough, really rough, but navigable. No campsites though, just a road. Several occasions offer breathtaking views of the Tonto Basin and north to the Rim. I head back and want to once again try Bushnell Tanks. Bushnell has been closed for almost 2 years now due to really bad fires. This past summer brought the Edge fire close to there and kept it closed again. The park service took down the flimsy barbed wire and shotty metal gate keeping it closed and installed heavy duty steel barricades and locked swing gates.
All my energy is sapping quickly, and I need to head home. The drive is quick. The fall asleep is much quicker.

Date Set

I've set on a physical date for this years holiday party. The 9th annual Holiday social will be held on Sunday, Dec. 10th at appx. 6 pm til whenever.

I'm debating on the theme still. I may stick with the traditional semi-casual setting or I may stray this year and go with a Hawaiian motif.

I will set up a menu shortly and generate invitations to you guests. Due to security reasons I obviously won't post any information here. If you are invited, you will physically receive an invitation from me in person or by mail.

So go ahead and get that day off! Prepare yourself for good times, good food and assorted debauchery! Stay tuned!

Passing of a soldier

Sunday morning, as I was on the road driving to north Scottsdale for a planned fun day of friends and football, I talk to my parents on the phone and learned that my Uncle Gus had passed away that Saturday night. He had been suffering from a variety of ailments and had been put in a hospice a few weeks ago. After a series of seizures, he passed.
Gus was a hearty and typical male from my mom's side of the family, the LaFrance's. They all grew up and lived around the Providence, Rhode Island area for most of their lives. After Dec. 7th 1941, the men of the LaFrance family joined the war as a call of duty devoted to their country. Gaston was an Army radar operator stationed on Normandy during WWII, and was more than likely one of the few who knew how to operate the fledgling technology during the second great war. Opon his return to the U.S. after the war, he joined his wife Doris and had a handful of children who fell in line with family tradition and joined the armed services. He was a man that held qualities that many do not possess or understand in these modern times- strong family values, a hard work ethic, undying love for his country, honor, honesty, respect. We was one of the most well traveled souls that I have met. From Europe to the Pacific, to the frigid Alaskan north, to the sunny shores of Mexico, the man traveled and embraced the journeys he had, even after losing his first wife and then re-marrying our current aunt Annette.
Heartbreaking news to my Mom, who never got to say goodbye to her brother, and who also, after just getting out of the hospital, will not be able to attend his services in a week. If the opportunity shows itself, I may be able to go back east to represent the family.
He will be missed greatly.



The soldier stood and faced God, Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining, Just as brightly as his brass.
"Step forward now, you soldier, How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek? To My Church have you been true?"
The soldier squared his shoulders and said, "No, Lord, I guess I ain't.
Because those of us who carry guns, Can't always be a saint.
I've had to work most Sundays, And at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I've been violent, Because the world is awfully rough.
But, I never took a penny, That wasn't mine to keep...
Though I worked a lot of overtime, When the bills got just too steep.
And I never passed a cry for help, Though at times I shook with fear
And sometimes, God, forgive me, I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place, Among the people here.
They never wanted me around, Except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here, Lord, It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much, But if you don't, I'll understand."
There was a silence all around the throne, Where the saints had often trod.
As the soldier waited quietly, For the judgment of his God.
"Step forward now, you soldier, You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets, You've done your time in Hell."

Oh damn!!!

There is just something about that October air isn't it?? The faint briskness in the morning, Sunday morning football games, all the Holiday crap out in the stores even before the Halloween stuff is out...and oh yeah, that means its just about time for THE 9TH ANNUAL HOLIDAY SOCIAL!!!!! WOOO HOOOO!!!! Nine years! That's almost a full freggin decade of memorable parties! Ah the food, the booze, the debauchery!!
Anyways, just a quick update on the party info.
No date is set yet, but I'll be shooting for the first week of December, as usual. I'm going to start planning a menu, the date, theme and guest list within a week. I usually give out invitations about 3-4 weeks in advance, so that people can get time off if needed. It may be 2 fold this year, with the party being on Saturday night, and continuing onto Sunday morning for a football party with the leftover food and booze...If y'all can handle it!! Anyways, keep your eyes and ears glued open as I'll be tossing out frequent updates in relation to this.
Peace out party-goers!!

The master plan

Yes, Shameus is a freggin lush, then again aren't we all? Well, after my breakup with my ex put a royal cabosh on the whole surprise birthday party in Hermosa Beach that included a surfboard, we needed to settle on plan B. If we had a plan B. Turns out that the cancelled Cali trip may have been a blessing in disguise seeing that now, most of us are a little tighter on the wallets, especially with the holidays coming.So, after discussing things over with Chris the other night, and a bottle of vino later, we decided on a semi-usual October camp trip. Its cheap, user friendly for everyone, provides a local enough escape that isn't too far, and is generally a really freggin good time.

Here's the catch though- we don't know which site we are going to go to yet. Why? Because at the time we are slated to go (Oct 26-29th), it may be late enough in the season that our number one choice up on top of the rim at our usual site, may be closed with rain or snow. That leaves our second choice, Camp Geronimo, also may be closed after this summer's fires blew right past them and may have resulted in the closure of the roads. We won't find out until the next weekend at least. Next week Chris and I plan to make a day road trip up to check conditions, talk to the ranger station staff and to scout around for some possible new areas that we may want to try.

Either way, we plan on going and doing something, so here's some simple rules. We want as many people as possible going on this trip. We are inviting EVERYONE! I mean everyone (well 90 % of everyone, some people just aren't our friends anymore). Stay as long or as short as you want, come and go as you please. We got breakfast food covered, but bring your own snacks and late night meals. You wanna drink, BYOB. We'll share some hard booze and mixers, but we aint your personal bartenders, sorry, but we don't have the cash to buy booze for all this time.

Expect chilly weather, bring warm clothes and clothes that dry easy, its been known to drizzle.

This is an undeveloped camp site, which means no showers, bathrooms, cabins, gift shops, etc...be prepared for it. We have developed an elaborate bathroom tent system that works wonders- its private, dry, with a sit down toilet. So if you are stressing about that shit, don't. We've had people come on the trip that were adamant on this issue and then changed their ways once they saw how convenient it is.

Lastly and most importantly- NO FREGGIN DRAMA! No fighting, plotting, rumoring, jealousy, trash talking, all about me attitudes, or other displeasantries, especially on a trip that (not to be greedy) is to celebrate my 30th bday. There may be mixed company there, so be prepared for a mingling of new and old faces. Can't handle it, don't go, take a hike (literally- the closest town with a phone is 10 miles away). This WILL be a fun filled, stress free trip where we all have a good time by golly!!!!

I'll get invites ready soon with directions, info and other shit as soon as we lock down a site. It may be cutting it close, but once you see this and are interested in going, pre-arrange the dates off and be prepared to go and do something!

Remember- October 26-29

I'll actually go out on my birthday night, Tuesday October 31st to celebrate, so if you can't make it on the trip, at least come out and join us on Halloween!!!

Updates as they come....stay tuned.

Am I a superstar?

Aftermath & Reflection

It will still be at least 2 weeks of rehabilitating recovery for Mom to be back to partial or full functionality. It is just a unfortunate way to get a realization of things that are or are to come in the future. Am I prepared for a departure of one or both of my parents. I'd like to think that I am, but you never truly are. Needless to say, I nor I think anybody is looking forward towards that day. It's disturbing, awkward but unfortunately necessary to find out what their final plans are. What they want done, where they want to be taken care of, what the fate of the estate will be, the fate of the family.
Looking back on what this event has given insight to so far is that lessons should be learned as to what happens when you get that old. How should one postpone the inevitable? I'm turning 30 in a month. There is no more time to waste thinking that I am invincible. I'm no longer a spry 19 year old in college that has plenty of time to ponder my future. I need to stop being so self-destructive to myself, because as I see the rest of my family age and have their health problems arise, I see what I am susceptible to. Cancers of all types, diabetes, Parkinson's, heart failure, high blood pressure, gastric problems, bone and joint conditions (which, as a bad sign, I'm already starting to feel effects of- guess I should have never played illegal tackle football in Jr High and broke my arm). I seriously need to take my diet and weight into consideration. I know I can still eat like a 16 year old, but soon enough, my body will take a bad turn in reacting to it.
I know I can't sit down and eat almost a whole package of oreo cookies with a half gallon of milk. Not that I have done that recently, those were the college days. Hell, I haven't had an oreo cookie in I think 2 years. I suppose I'm not doing that bad. I can't tell you the last time I ordered fast food, its been that long. Not that bar food is much better. At least a good portion of the bar food I've been eating is light enough and or grilled not fried.
I'm entering a strange transition right now of aging, family decisions, re-entering the dating scene with different people and future job security and career choices. Before I had some form of guidance. Now there is no solid master plan. Things have the possibility now, as per example from the past few days, that my life has the potential for an unconceivable path change in an instant. It's scary that I may have to give everything up that I have made for myself as a life here in order to take care of my family again. It would be something that I need to do though. I owe everything towards my parents and what they have done for me. After all, after being unplanned and unexpected, I shouldn't even be here today. Instead, they embraced it and changed their entire life to dedicate it towards my future. It's the very least I can do to respect what they have done.
At the very least it should be a realization that all things are temporary over a long enough time frame. We're all just visitors here. Maybe we should enjoy it and try to stay as long as we can or are welcome. I suppose then at the end, it would seem worth it.
Carpe Diem my friends.

Part 6, going home

I woke up Friday morning thinking I was back in high school. It was 8 am, and my old bedroom was still dark. It's like that all the time back home. The fog in the bay area doesn't clear up til 1pm, so it stays dark, unlike Arizona where its bright and blinding at 5 am. September had that chill in the air. I sleep with my window open back home, right above my head. That cold sea chill that invigorates your nostrils on each breath and makes you not want to leave the warmth of the blankets. That was probably why I had to rush to school enough times back in the day, didn't want to get out of bed. I lay awake in bed under the covers for a while. I remember times ten years ago. The smell of fresh brewed coffee and toast find their way once again into my room. I wait for the tell-tale ting a ling a ling of my dad's spoon stirring a scoop of sugar in his coffee. I can hear the pigeons cooing in the backyard. I'm already homesick and I haven't left yet.
I get up and dressed and eat some linguica and eggs for breakfast with dad. We decide on taking separate cars in case I have to leave for the airport straight from the hospital. Dad leaves and I take a quick shower. Before I leave I grab my camera and take a few snapshots of the yard, including the above pic of Dirty Ryan's old house. It's still his house, but its not the same. No more front porch, no trees in front, different paint, different feel.
I pack up my suitcase and toss it in the car and head up.
I expected that the doc would have come by now to give his opinion by now. I should have known better about the hospital system in this country. He was supposed to be around in the early morning, but being tied up in surgery made him come by at noon. Mom is frustrated, hungry, tired, uncomfortable and wants to get the hell out of there.
The doc says that she will need to keep the drain tube and bag in until Monday, but she can go home today. The nurse breaks down the discharge procedure for her, tells her about her meds, what to eat, drink, her activity levels, etc...simply put, soft foods, liquids for a bit, no activities besides walking for 2 weeks, and stay on your antibiotic cocktail til the script runs out. The nurse calls for a transport out of the hospital (stupid California law # 10943- no patient in the state of California can leave the hospital in any condition under their own power, they must be wheeled out by hospital staff). Lame... We end up waiting another 45 minutes for one guy to wheel her down the hall, into the elevator, and out the adjacent door to the sidewalk.
We put her in the car and head out. I drive to the house while dad drives mom to the pharmacy to fill her script. While they are there I grab a few of my dad's apples and tomatoes and pack them in the suitcase.
They come home and mom is instantly in a better mood. I have a bite of lunchmeat and a small roll with coffee before I leave for the airport. Mom is able to eat some of her homemade applesauce. She wolfs down the small bowl. It's the first good tasting thing she's had in three days, let alone anything solid.
I feel bad leaving, but I have to get to the airport. I say my goodbyes, tell mom I love her and as per tradition, my last view of home is dad standing out front exchanging waves goodbye.
Rest is standard...gas up the rental, return the car, shuttle to the airport, board a full plane, sit next to a VERY nervous Arab-American man, which makes me equally nervous. After the stressful 3 days I've had, that's just what I need, to be caught up in another air tragedy. At least I knew that if shit went down that I would let some stress out and do a whole lot of damage to this poor man before it ends. But I'm over-reacting. I think he's nervous thinking that I'm thinking that he's thinking of blowing the plane up or something. Fuck it, I'm too tired, I doze off with one eye open.
Get to Phoenix, pick up the truck and call my boss to tell him that I'll be in work at 8. Home sweet home, for 45 minutes at least. I call up a pizza order to thank the crew for covering my shifts while I was gone. Pick it up and deliver it. Ironically the main guy I wanted to thank started a diet the day before so he didn't eat any of it. So did I, so I couldn't touch it too. People ate it though, so no waste.
It's busy enough at work, but I'm just drained, physically, mentally and emotionally. I'm an empty shell at work that night that just wants to go home.

Part 5

We get back in from the hospital and Dad is toast. He crashes out around 1030. I stay up, make a sandwich and watch Dane Cook on HBO. At least his stand up is funny enough to brighten my spirits up tonight. I can't stay awake any longer though and I pass out on the bed close to midnight. The next morning I wake up and dad and I grab a quick breakfast before heading up to the hospital again. Mom is in a slightly better mood than yesterday, although the hospital food they are giving her as well as the the attention she is getting is lax. Liquid diet only, and a diabetic one at that. Dad and I feel a little guilty when we walk down to the cafeteria to grab a sandwich. I field some phone calls from family members, talk to my boss and give him updates as to when I'm coming home and then we head back up to the room.
They are starting to ween her off the morphine and work vicodin instead. She can get up and walk more now and finally go to the bathroom again even though its only pee now.
She wants to go home bad, its starting to get on her nerves. She dismisses us around 3 to go home and grab some dinner.
I leave first while dad stays for a few more minutes. I tell him that I won't be home until 4 because I had planned to go see my old water polo coach at my high school.
I drive down to the school and park the car.

I am Marc's wanton desire to live in the past again...

I walk into the new pool facility, which is nice, very nice, but not the same. On the other side of the fence where the old pool was is a courtyard and trees now. The girl's team is swimming on one side and the boys are stretching on the other side. I barely recognize Frank. 10 years has aged him greatly. He still has the same strong Italian presence though. The face has aged, but the heart and soul is there. That's what I always recognized anyway. We chew the fat while the boys start to warm up. Catching up on old times and updates is a good feeling to have with an old friend. It warms the soul. He leads the gang through warm-up drills as I watch with a blatant smile on my face. Same drills as before. I want to get in so bad. I can almost feel the chilly water on my face, the slight chlorine taste on my lips, the occasional blinding reflection off the water surface. I miss it. As with every visit back to see him and the team, he offers me a coaching position, whether it be an assistant to him, or in this case, a head coaching position for the girl's team. It's really tempting, too tempting. If I could take it, I would in a heart beat. If the day comes that I have to move back here I will. It has already hinted at shaping up that way, in a large way. Eventually something will happen to mom or dad, and I will have to come back.
Dad is considering another apartment building as an investment, with me managing and living in it. That's for another blog though. I say my goodbyes to Frank and leave him with a little inspiration for the kids by joking that if they ask who I was, by fault of me wearing a Air Force T-shirt, that I was a sports recruiter for the USAF team.
I head home and I whip up some broiled fish and potatoes and an acorn squash for dessert.
While I am working in the kitchen I hear a something going on in the garage. I stick my head around the corner to see what's going on.
Most of the year my dad has a problem with possums, raccoons, rats and squirrels in the backyard eating his crops or trying to kill his birds in the coop. In the past dad would call the local animal control guy for larger animals or kill the rats. Today he was flooding the garage sink with water.

I am Alfreds revenge against his creator...

Dad catches a squirrel in a large trap. In what I can only describe as Dad dishing a little payback against the God he does love, he wants a little payback after dealing with 5 years of cancer and now making the woman he loves suffer by handling the fate of one of God's creatures. The cage goes in the water and the squirrel is dead in less than a minute. Fertilizer for the lemon tree.
We eat dinner. Dad is stuffed and happy. Head back up to the hospital and I make the judgment call based on Mom's condition that I should be free to return to Phoenix the next day. We spend the night at the hospital talking about family, watching a few game shows on TV, then the hospital kicks us out after the end of visiting hours.
We have to be up early and at the hospital in the morning to wait for the doctor for a report and possible discharge so we head to bed.

Stress factor part 4

I tell dad that I need a little extra rest and a shower, so I'll meet him at the hospital. I head up there an hour later than Dad and walk in to see Mom hopped up on morphine again. She doesn't look much better, but then again, she just had surgery and she doesn't look any worse, so I suppose that's a good thing.
They cleaned her out orthoscopicly and now have her on a antibiotic cocktail along with the morphine. We stay for a bit, Dad and I catch up on updates between us, and occasionally spit out a comment to mom about the casinos. Funny how she zips back to consciousness when her favorite hobby of "casinoing" is brought up. At least her spirits perk up when that stuff is mentioned. We stay til 5 and then head out to get some diner and groceries while the nurse attends to mom and let her get a little rest.
Dad and I head out to the market and grab some food for meals. I decide on making pork chops and rice for dinner. This is where some things sink in. I'm an independent guy. I can cook really, really well, clean, shop, laundry, you name it. I'll be a pretty good wife someday if I even need one. My dad isn't that independent. He can cook a little. Can't shop or clean. He runs the business show, Mom runs the home life. Without his partner he is lost. At the grocery store he is lost. I grab items we need and he is back pushing the cart all wide-eyed and confused. I toss something in the cart and he asks why. We are out of bread I say. We have no more cheese. The pork chops are for dinner. You are almost out of mocha mix. Takes him a second, but he gets it.
It's hard to think of him living without mom. It's even more wrong to think that when the time comes, it would almost be better if Dad goes first. Mom could handle herself better than dad could alone. Either way, no matter who goes, I'd still be at home with them, so it wouldn't really matter.
We get back, I start cooking. I'm not used to electric stoves. They suck, uncontrollable, and burn easy. I manage, and manage well to turn out a good meal. Dad says he needs to make more coffee. I tell him I just made a new pot. I clear off the table like mom would have and do dishes. I tell Dad to go sit and relax, watch the news like he normally would. I am officially a surrogate mom.
My Godparents visit for a minute and we update them on her condition. Dad fields random phone calls from relatives inquiring about her. We then head up back to the hospital.
She's awake and coming down off the latest dose of morphine. The nurses are pushing for her to urinate and pass gas. They had to basically inflate her like a balloon to do what they had to do. The bloating is actually causing more pain that the operation or the drainage tube they had to put in. Her modesty though gets the best of her. To put it crudely, she can't fart in public, let alone near either of us. The nurses also are encouraging her to start walking if she can. We gingerly get her up, disconnect her IV from the wall and we escort her down the hall. Surprisingly we made 2 trips down and back. Give her a A+ for determination. However the day's events and medication name her dizzy and nauseous and on the 2nd trip I have to make a dash for a trash can so she can vomit in my arms. Enough for her. We get her back in bed and that will be it for today. We stay til 11pm and then go home.
Stay tuned for parts 5 and 6...

Stress factor part 3

There is nothing more heartbreaking than seeing someone close to you whom you love so much lay there laying in the most intense pain you can think of. I walk in and see Dad, dead tired from staying up by Mom's side all night, eek out a small grin of relief. Then I take a good look at Mom. Pale, disheveled, a permanent look of discomfort on she face, tubes coming out of her face and both arms. My eyes well up. I give her a gentle kiss and start asking both of them what the story is.

Apparently the doctor has not done surgery yet. They have her on a IV and morphine drip right now. What has happened was that her appendix had gotten infected and inflamed. Instead of it swelling down and out as usual, it inverted and got tucked under her bowels and internals, which masked the sickness until it finally ruptured, contaminating and infecting a good portion of her abdominal cavity. Her gut was swollen and tender and needed to be cleaned out stat. Within 24 hours she's be dead.

We sit and talk, trying to comfort her as much as we can. The morphine has her drifting in and out until the pain wakes her up again. This has happened before to us, which is what's scary. 25 years ago her mom, my grandmother, had the same thing happen. A rupture contaminated her abdomen and despite cleaning it up as best as they could, she died a few days later. I really don't want my mom to pass the same way.

Finally the orderlies come and we wheel her down to the surgery ward. We wish her well, love and kiss her goodbye. Dad and I go to the waiting room. We chat, making exhausted small talk over really potent coffee. I'm sorry, but hospitals don't make weak coffee. Straws, spoons, hell even a horseshoe would stand up straight in this stuff. I suppose its strong for obvious reasons. The waiting room is boring, so we take a walk around the hospital. Dad chats about the hospital and the doctors he's had. It's strange to hear that the shoe is on the other foot now. Mom, in the past 5 years had to deal with him and his doctors, his operations, 4 cancers in 4 years, 2 lung operations, chemo, radiation, etc...and now Dad has a taste of what Mom has been going through. He's aware of the stress now that something like this can bring.

After walking a while, we head back the waiting room for the doctor. It was estimated that the operation should take an hour. With complications, it took near 3. The doc comes and explains things out to us and says that she'll be in recovery for a few hours. The doc is joking and optimistic, which is always a good sign. This gives us a few hours to head home, eat and rest. Which is exactly what we do. After a quick sandwich, I crash in my old bed. It's low, musty, but pretty damn comfortable. AS I drift off for a 45 minute nap, my eyes wander a bit and take in some of the items still up in the room from my high school days. Nostalgic memories doze me off.

Stress factor part 2

I wake up from the worst drunken hour and a half nap ever at 5am. Grab my bag, chuck it in the truck and drive to the long term parking lot. Hop in the shuttle and book it to the airport terminal. No line thankfully, so I head up to the kiosk and attempt to check in. Computer is not letting me. Try a different way, and then another, and another. The attendant says that I am not in the system and to go to the full service desk. I head up there and she tries to figure it out. Turns out that in my stressed and somewhat drunk minutes that night when I was booking it, I had forgotten that it was now Wednesday when I booked it, thinking it was still Tuesday. By booking it the next morning, I had actually booked it for Thursday morning. She looked at me like I was an idiot and told me that the flight was for the next day. I told her my brief story, and without compassion or acknowledgement of a simple mistake, she had no sympathy for me. A $100 reservation alteration fee later and the twat had me free to go to the gate. I had to call up the car rental too and do the exact same thing.
Get to the gate, board, get my seat. The booze is starting to wear off and I'm getting nauseous and hungover. I get some water and some crackers. Pass out on the flight once for a 5 minute nap. Get to the airport in San Jose, grab a rental car from Enterprise. Dude there was named Tito. Nice guy, professional, courteous. Very cool actually. Mad props, made my morning a little easier, gratzi.
Get in the car and head up north to home. I get on the phone and call home, but there is no answer. I assumed right thinking that Dad was still at the hospital. I call my Godmother and try to get info out of her, but she knows just as much as I do. I bypass home and head straight to the hospital. Get info at the front desk and head up to the hospital room.

Stress factor part 1

First, yes, I am aware that it is Sunday now and I am posting on events from the past 5 days. I'm sure once you get into the reading that you will see why I couldn't get to this sooner.
Not that any of you are beating down the doors to get reading my blogs anyways.
So...yes...
Titty bar Tuesday is a happy day right? Or at least it is supposed to be. Especially Titty Bar Tuesday combined with a birthday right??! I opened the bar on Tuesday, got off at 6, had a quick half drink with Courtney, my server before heading home to get ready to come back out for my friend Laura's birthday. I head out to home, along the way I pick up a birthday cake, scribble some happy words on the cake, wrap a present and a card, have enough time to step in the shower, get dressed and then head back out. Where to? Of all places, my own work. Oh joy! Spend most of my time there already, so what is a few extra hours of off duty partying?
I get there and Laura, her friend, Drea and my ex Crystal are there. A little awkward since we have not hung out or talked since the breakup, but I'm not going to let that ruin a birthday. Especially a mutual friend's day. We make small talk and are generally cordial to eachother. What's important is that we are at least on talking terms.
Anyways, Papi shows up, Lauren, and Courtney too. Courtney wants to do shots, so we do a few rounds. We push some on Laura and she's on her way to happy land. So are we, because Courtney's boyfriend works at Skin and can get us the hookup.
It's unanimous, it's titty bar time. We pack into a few cars and head out to the strip club. Courtney's man gives us the free pass hookup and we are in.
The layout of Skin isn't as good as Babe's. The girls are just as good looking, but the stage is definitely not as accessible. We fanangle a table and all plop down to enjoy the show. Right about now is when the redbull in my vodka redbulls is kicking OFF. Buzzed to wasted in about 5 minutes. I keep trying to shake it off and sober up a little. I negotiate a lapdance for Laura and Papi and Randi (out dancer) grinds away on them both for a few minutes. I think Papi enjoyed the dance a little better with her tits in his face after they came out of the black fishnet top despite her having what he called, "crazy eyes". I tell Papi its time to go because I'm wasted and hungry and really need to pee without using the club bathroom with "Reggie" the attendant charging a access fee for handing you a paper towel.
We head out, I piss for 10 minutes on a dumpster (which Chris took a future incriminating photo of, wanger in hand), and we head out to the Philly Co for a sandwich.
We order and pay and wait for the food to come up. While we wait, I head outside to check my phone which says I have 2 missed calls.
Here my friends is where my night went from a 9.5 to about a negative 5. I get on the phone and my one message is from Dad at 1:30am. Mom in is the ER and is about to undergo emergency surgery.
I am now the most sober person in the world.
I call Dad and try to get a straight answer out of him. He can't tell me what's up except that she is about to get surgery. I tell him I'll be there ASAP. He argues that I shouldn't worry about it.
I don't yell at my father. Ever, let alone tell him to shutup. I did both. I tell him I'm on my way to the airport and will be there as soon as I can. Click.

I am Marc's panic delirium.

Next 20 minutes are a blur. I run across the street and down the block to work to try and find my boss. Chris follows me in his jeep. Pretty sure I outran a jeep. I get to work and my boss isn't there yet. I get him on the phone and I remember losing it on the phone with him. He tells me to calm down and then yells at me to get home and take care of things without worrying about my job for however long it takes. That's why I respect my boss as a person, it shows after all that he's human too.
I get in my truck and tell Chris to follow me home. Hit the highway and I lose Chris. I never lose Chris. Apparently going 100 on the freeway is an easy way to do this task. I get home and book the next flight out of here to head home.
I throw a couple sets of clothes in a bag and catch myself thinking " should I pack light? For a long stay? Or for a funeral?" I start to lose it again.
I pack light.
I have time to kill as well as time to sober up before I need to leave for the airport. I lose it again in front of Chris. I need to sober up. Chris still has the sandwiches from the restaurant and we decide to chow down. I need the food to sober up.
I have never had a great tasting sandwich taste so horrible. I ate it because I needed food in my stomach, honestly, I had no appetite. The sandwich was tasty in of itself, but I had no joy in in.
I explained what I could to Chris, questioned faith and God, gave him my house keys, kicked him out and passed out on the bed for a disturbed hour and a half nap.