I love book quotes. I love blurbs in general. This is my latest favorite, I don't remember where it's from. - "Elliott may be writing under the influence, but it's the influence of genius."
Previous favorites include - "This book touched me in a way I wished I hadn't been touched."
And finally, a once and future classic - "This book was written for the illiterate."
Monday, June 17, 2013
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Conway Twitty and Trish the Dish
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Add To The Sadness
For Hans
How do you react when you hear your oldest and dearest friend is dead. How do you react when you hear it was a car accident. What do you say when you find out that the car was traveling at a high rate of speed, crossed 4 lanes of traffic trying to get to the exit. What do you do when you hear that the car slammed into the overpass support, flipped over and burst into flames. How do you feel when you find out that they had to use dental records to identify the body because it was burned beyond recognition. What do you say when you find out that his body lay unclaimed and unidentified for over a month. How do you feel when you find this out because you hadn't heard from him in over a month, and he didn't respond to your voicemail. What do you do when you find all this out by googling his name because his facebook account was down and you had lost e-mail contact. What do you think when you see the headline, "Victim of last months fiery accident Identified." What do you do when you see his name, age and hometown under the headline. What do you say when this person was a part of you. What do you say when you hear this about someone you have known and were close to for over two thirds of your life. What do you do when you can't breathe or see through the pain. How do you live without someone who knew everything about you.
How do you react when you hear your oldest and dearest friend is dead. How do you react when you hear it was a car accident. What do you say when you find out that the car was traveling at a high rate of speed, crossed 4 lanes of traffic trying to get to the exit. What do you do when you hear that the car slammed into the overpass support, flipped over and burst into flames. How do you feel when you find out that they had to use dental records to identify the body because it was burned beyond recognition. What do you say when you find out that his body lay unclaimed and unidentified for over a month. How do you feel when you find this out because you hadn't heard from him in over a month, and he didn't respond to your voicemail. What do you do when you find all this out by googling his name because his facebook account was down and you had lost e-mail contact. What do you think when you see the headline, "Victim of last months fiery accident Identified." What do you do when you see his name, age and hometown under the headline. What do you say when this person was a part of you. What do you say when you hear this about someone you have known and were close to for over two thirds of your life. What do you do when you can't breathe or see through the pain. How do you live without someone who knew everything about you.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
45%
The jaw pain started earlier in the week. It was starting to radiate into my chest, finally peaking by Thursday night, to the point where I was on my hands and knee's in bed unable to focus on anything but the pain.
By Friday morning I was flat on my back in the emergency room, strapped to a EKG machine next to an old lady who kept saying every 10 seconds, "My tummy hurts... my tummy hurts..."
I sure hope these aren't the last words I ever hear.
As usual the emergency room was doing a brisk business. There was a high school girl who had a fractured pelvis, as the result of a car wreck, who was getting a lot of visitors. One of her friends was a few bed's away. Alcohol may have been a factor.
They moved me to Bed #8. It was good to be out of the hallway.
The guy in bed #9 was talking to the nurse. He had an infection," I'm sorry darling, at first I thought it was a blister, I'm self-employed and I don't have any insurance, so I treated it myself until the pain got too bad. I don't mind losing the toe, but I don't want to lose the foot. I have to stand on my feet all day" (Turns out he had his own dog grooming business. I did not see that one coming. I saw him walk in with his buddy, I had him pegged as an oil change guy or possibly a plumber's helper. You just never know.)
There was a 94 year old woman two beds over, who had taken a fall.
There was the reasonably attractive red-faced young woman, I almost walked in on, being escorted out of the bathroom by the sheriff's deputy, carrying a urine sample. (Well, as pretty as you can be, when you're handcuffed at the waist, with leg-chains, shortly after peeing in a cup. I'm sure even she would agree this wasn't her best look.)
The Dr. came in with the results of my EKG, "We're troubled by the changes in your EKG, and we're going to admit you to the hospital. We're just waiting for a bed."
If I wasn't having chest pains before, I am now.
There were a series of visit's from nurses, technicians, several members of the cardiac team, someone from the respiratory unit, a nutritionist and a random sampling of people with no discernible purpose.
The left side of my heart is only pumping 45% of the blood it needs (It should be 55%)
What followed over the next seven hours was a regular series of questions, blood test's and ekg's.
Are you having chest pains now?
Are experiencing shortness of breath?
Are you having any swelling?
Do you have any tingling in your arm?
When did the pain start?
Where did the pain start?
What were you doing when the pain started?
Can you describe the pain?
Does your jaw hurt?
Where does you jaw hurt?
Can you describe the pain?
Between 1 and 10, how bad is the pain?
Are you having any swelling.
Do you suffer from acid reflux?
Do you smoke?
Do you drink alcohol?
Do you use any illegal drugs?
I hadn't eaten all day because they weren't sure what they were going to do.
More blood draws, more ekg's and more questions.
By 5 o'clock they brought me food. It was easily one of top 5 meals I've ever eaten. (For the record, it was meatloaf, mashed potato's and green beans. I make a mental note to add this to the list of possible last meal options.)
I still have pain in my chest, but I am not having chest pains.
When they were ready to move me upstairs, I asked the nurse if they pushed you in the bed or in a wheelchair. She asked "do you have a preference?" I thought a wheelchair would be more dignified.
Dignity is a fickle mistress.
The last time I was personally in an emergency room, (as opposed to just visiting) I woke up in it, after a night of drinking. All I remember was sitting in a bar and the guy next to me said "this place is dead." I said "you're right, follow me." The next thing I know I wake up naked on a metal table with a sheet over me. The first thing I do is look for a toe tag.
The second thing I look for is my pants.
They are throwing words around like, sinus rhythm, abnormal t,left atrial enlargement, possible ischemia widespread, v-rate, blockage, stent, arteries, heart disease, family history, stress test.
(After a routine visit to the Dr. while visiting my parents in Las Vegas a couple of years ago I had my first ekg and stress test.
My brother in-law, who is a surgeon (not a heart surgeon) told me at dinner that night, after looking at my ekg results, it appeared that I had had a heart attack. "Can you have a heart attack and not know it?", I said.
"Sure." He said.
At least he waited until after dessert.
I had a treadmill stress test the next day, which was conducted by a middle-aged german woman. I thought this will be a breeze. I only have to do it for about 10-15 minutes. I start out strong, maybe a little too strong. Pace yourself I think, I don't need to lead the pack, I just need to finish. Life is a marathon, not a sprint! So I ease up a little and decide to focus on my breathing. I focus on my breathing, I focus on the mountains outside the window, I focus on the cars in the parking lot, I focus on the sound of the treadmill, I start to focus on lunch. Winners never quit, quitters never win! I WILL REACH THE MOUNTAIN TOP! I am starting to feel the burn, it starts in my side, and works it's way into my eye's. I am now drenched in sweat and can no longer see. My knee's are weak, my chest hurts and I can't breathe. I may have already lost control of my bowels. Don't give up now, you're almost there! Is someone making toast? Dear lord, if you let me finish this test I will be a more patient and loving man. Oh God, don't let me vomit on the window! Ve vill now increase de speed a little bit, say's a voice from the not too distant past. I am being thrown to and fro like a marionette. Centrifugal force and gravity are the only thing's keeping me attached to the treadmill. I am now singing in German. I quickly switch to Spanish, no mas, no mas!
She stops the treadmill, helps me off and sighs audibly.
The total elapsed time of my stress test was less than 5 minutes.
I lasted less time than my 78 year old (at the time) father who had had a bypass..
The Dr. said to me later, in a voice more resigned than judgemental, "You are not in good shape."
It would have hurt less if he punched me.
I promise to walk more, eat right, quit smoking.)
They finally move me upstairs.
It is a double room with one bed. Life is starting to get better.
The nurse gives me the rundown, if you have any valuables give them to your wife. Things tend to grow leg's around here overnight. I give my wife my wallet. I keep my phone in my pocket. I guess we'll find out if things also grow hands.
She also says, you won't be able to eat or drink anything after midnight so you should eat something now.
My wife brings back a chicken sandwich, a banana and a cookie. I had big a mouthful of food when a nurse comes by, wearing a sign that says "Echo" and pushing a big machine into the room. "Is it Chris or Christopher?" she asks. I start gesturing, pointing to my mouth and chewing, trying to convey the universal sign for " I heard and understood everything you just said, but my mouth is completely full at the moment, and I will be right with you." She waits a beat and turns to my wife and says, "OH IS HE DEAF?! I'm chewing furiously and gesturing frantically with both hands like a ravenous deaf mute, trying to get her attention. I'M NOT DEAF! I try to sign. She's a pro and just rolls with it. She gives me a smile and says, "That's cool, I've seen worse."
to be continued...
By Friday morning I was flat on my back in the emergency room, strapped to a EKG machine next to an old lady who kept saying every 10 seconds, "My tummy hurts... my tummy hurts..."
I sure hope these aren't the last words I ever hear.
As usual the emergency room was doing a brisk business. There was a high school girl who had a fractured pelvis, as the result of a car wreck, who was getting a lot of visitors. One of her friends was a few bed's away. Alcohol may have been a factor.
They moved me to Bed #8. It was good to be out of the hallway.
The guy in bed #9 was talking to the nurse. He had an infection," I'm sorry darling, at first I thought it was a blister, I'm self-employed and I don't have any insurance, so I treated it myself until the pain got too bad. I don't mind losing the toe, but I don't want to lose the foot. I have to stand on my feet all day" (Turns out he had his own dog grooming business. I did not see that one coming. I saw him walk in with his buddy, I had him pegged as an oil change guy or possibly a plumber's helper. You just never know.)
There was a 94 year old woman two beds over, who had taken a fall.
There was the reasonably attractive red-faced young woman, I almost walked in on, being escorted out of the bathroom by the sheriff's deputy, carrying a urine sample. (Well, as pretty as you can be, when you're handcuffed at the waist, with leg-chains, shortly after peeing in a cup. I'm sure even she would agree this wasn't her best look.)
The Dr. came in with the results of my EKG, "We're troubled by the changes in your EKG, and we're going to admit you to the hospital. We're just waiting for a bed."
If I wasn't having chest pains before, I am now.
There were a series of visit's from nurses, technicians, several members of the cardiac team, someone from the respiratory unit, a nutritionist and a random sampling of people with no discernible purpose.
The left side of my heart is only pumping 45% of the blood it needs (It should be 55%)
What followed over the next seven hours was a regular series of questions, blood test's and ekg's.
Are you having chest pains now?
Are experiencing shortness of breath?
Are you having any swelling?
Do you have any tingling in your arm?
When did the pain start?
Where did the pain start?
What were you doing when the pain started?
Can you describe the pain?
Does your jaw hurt?
Where does you jaw hurt?
Can you describe the pain?
Between 1 and 10, how bad is the pain?
Are you having any swelling.
Do you suffer from acid reflux?
Do you smoke?
Do you drink alcohol?
Do you use any illegal drugs?
I hadn't eaten all day because they weren't sure what they were going to do.
More blood draws, more ekg's and more questions.
By 5 o'clock they brought me food. It was easily one of top 5 meals I've ever eaten. (For the record, it was meatloaf, mashed potato's and green beans. I make a mental note to add this to the list of possible last meal options.)
I still have pain in my chest, but I am not having chest pains.
When they were ready to move me upstairs, I asked the nurse if they pushed you in the bed or in a wheelchair. She asked "do you have a preference?" I thought a wheelchair would be more dignified.
Dignity is a fickle mistress.
The last time I was personally in an emergency room, (as opposed to just visiting) I woke up in it, after a night of drinking. All I remember was sitting in a bar and the guy next to me said "this place is dead." I said "you're right, follow me." The next thing I know I wake up naked on a metal table with a sheet over me. The first thing I do is look for a toe tag.
The second thing I look for is my pants.
They are throwing words around like, sinus rhythm, abnormal t,left atrial enlargement, possible ischemia widespread, v-rate, blockage, stent, arteries, heart disease, family history, stress test.
(After a routine visit to the Dr. while visiting my parents in Las Vegas a couple of years ago I had my first ekg and stress test.
My brother in-law, who is a surgeon (not a heart surgeon) told me at dinner that night, after looking at my ekg results, it appeared that I had had a heart attack. "Can you have a heart attack and not know it?", I said.
"Sure." He said.
At least he waited until after dessert.
I had a treadmill stress test the next day, which was conducted by a middle-aged german woman. I thought this will be a breeze. I only have to do it for about 10-15 minutes. I start out strong, maybe a little too strong. Pace yourself I think, I don't need to lead the pack, I just need to finish. Life is a marathon, not a sprint! So I ease up a little and decide to focus on my breathing. I focus on my breathing, I focus on the mountains outside the window, I focus on the cars in the parking lot, I focus on the sound of the treadmill, I start to focus on lunch. Winners never quit, quitters never win! I WILL REACH THE MOUNTAIN TOP! I am starting to feel the burn, it starts in my side, and works it's way into my eye's. I am now drenched in sweat and can no longer see. My knee's are weak, my chest hurts and I can't breathe. I may have already lost control of my bowels. Don't give up now, you're almost there! Is someone making toast? Dear lord, if you let me finish this test I will be a more patient and loving man. Oh God, don't let me vomit on the window! Ve vill now increase de speed a little bit, say's a voice from the not too distant past. I am being thrown to and fro like a marionette. Centrifugal force and gravity are the only thing's keeping me attached to the treadmill. I am now singing in German. I quickly switch to Spanish, no mas, no mas!
She stops the treadmill, helps me off and sighs audibly.
The total elapsed time of my stress test was less than 5 minutes.
I lasted less time than my 78 year old (at the time) father who had had a bypass..
The Dr. said to me later, in a voice more resigned than judgemental, "You are not in good shape."
It would have hurt less if he punched me.
I promise to walk more, eat right, quit smoking.)
They finally move me upstairs.
It is a double room with one bed. Life is starting to get better.
The nurse gives me the rundown, if you have any valuables give them to your wife. Things tend to grow leg's around here overnight. I give my wife my wallet. I keep my phone in my pocket. I guess we'll find out if things also grow hands.
She also says, you won't be able to eat or drink anything after midnight so you should eat something now.
My wife brings back a chicken sandwich, a banana and a cookie. I had big a mouthful of food when a nurse comes by, wearing a sign that says "Echo" and pushing a big machine into the room. "Is it Chris or Christopher?" she asks. I start gesturing, pointing to my mouth and chewing, trying to convey the universal sign for " I heard and understood everything you just said, but my mouth is completely full at the moment, and I will be right with you." She waits a beat and turns to my wife and says, "OH IS HE DEAF?! I'm chewing furiously and gesturing frantically with both hands like a ravenous deaf mute, trying to get her attention. I'M NOT DEAF! I try to sign. She's a pro and just rolls with it. She gives me a smile and says, "That's cool, I've seen worse."
to be continued...
Monday, December 10, 2012
Lush Life
At this point in the story I was living in a fleabag hotel in Downtown Oakland, (albeit one of the nicer ones but a fleabag nonetheless.) Not like the Will Rogers Hotel where my buddy Ralf was staying, now that place was a fucking dump. The first thing that hit you when you walked in the front door of the Will Rogers was the smell. That's the thing, it actually hit you, this smell physically assaulted you. It reached out and punched you in the face, poked you in both eyes, grabbed you by the throat and kicked you in the nuts. This was an angry and heartless smell. (I was very proud of the fact that while my knees buckled the first time it hit me, I never completely lost consciousness. I was Jake Lamotta in Raging Bull, bloodied but unbowed. I never went down Ray, I never went down!) It was a heady and stupefying mixture of vomit, mothballs, urine, (to be honest though, it was the 80's, so everything smelled like urine.) rotting flesh and industrial quantities of disinfectant. This smell was like some pre-historic hazing ritual. The smell was so bad it affected your short-term memory. Nothing, came before this smell.
The lobby was littered with bodies, (many of the fallen having no doubt succumbed to the smell.) if you were lucky enough to claw your way through this wall of stank and make it to the front desk, you had to sign in. There was a couple that ran the place. He was an angry little man who ran a tight ship (which is easier said than done when you've got a place full of ex-mental patients, drug addicts, alcoholics and broken down old people on a limited fixed income.) and she was made up like a madam, or a grandmother. (They are not mutually exclusive.) I had a pen that my mother gave from the jewelry store where she worked , it was very small, very thin (about the size of a very large toothpick or a small q-tip.) and it looked like it was gold-plated (I'm sure it wasn't real gold, otherwise I would've sold it for a drink within 10 minutes. Like my high school class ring, or anything else I had of value....) and when she saw it she said, "ooh la la". (Was that the madam or grandma talking?) When we got upstairs Ralf said, "she really likes you man, I've never heard her say that to anyone."
The Will Rogers Hotel (which I ended up getting thrown out of, while in a blackout one night. I guess I was the one guy Will met that he didn't like.) sat in the shadow of the Tribune Tower (home of The Oakland Tribune newspaper) and catty corner from Johnny's Coffee Shop and directly across the street from a 2- story parking lot. There was a bar next door to the Tribune that I would go in occasionally (any port in a storm as they say) and I remember one time I was in there having a drink, it was probably 9 in the morning and I was job hunting and reading the classifieds, (It was probably even the Trib!) and I happened to look up and notice there was one other person in the bar at the time and it was a guy I had just been in rehab with a few months earlier. There was that moment of sheepish recognition and we both just shrugged our shoulders and raised our glasses, "Maybe next time." I said.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
How can I miss you if you won't go away
Turns out after the election people in 20 states filed petitions to secede from the United States. Of course Kentucky is on the list. I'm actually okay with these pinheads leaving. Naturally, when you secede you no longer get to use our services - lights, roads, cars, food, air (that's American air motherfucker!), phone service, cable t.v., radio, no internet (so read read this quick and get the fuck out of the library you leech!) hospitals, no medicare, no social security (no problem!) schools, (obviously this won't be an issue), mail (so you can't mail in your petition asshole!) the police will no longer come to your house, the fire department will no longer put out your fires, no more garbage pick up, no more water. You are now officially a drain on society, you are now illegal, you no longer have a voice, so we no longer have to listen to you. So thank you for your courage and your sacrifice for our (no longer your!) country. If for some reason you decide to stay (and I don't anticipate this happening, because if nothing else, you are known for the sanctity of your word and the strength of your convictions!) maybe we should build a giant electric fence to help keep you out or count on your discretion to do the right thing, you know... the right thing... Jim Jones ring a bell?... In America you are free to leave.
Friday, June 8, 2012
The Easter Bunny is an A**hole!
There is a rabbits nest in our yard. I only know this because Gale found it. Gale is our Greyhound (see previous post-The Most Beautiful Girl in the World). She was rooting around in the yard late at night and eating what looked like a squirrels tail. We don't like to let her eat found objects in the yard, or kill any animals. While she is a natural predator to small animals, such as squirrels and rabbits, we try to keep the carnage to a minimum. Granted, this was more of a problem when we first got her 8 years ago. She was fresh off the track and in peak physical condition, so there was more of a sporting aspect to it, it was like shooting fish in a barrel for her. Sorry Mr. Squirrel! Goodbye Mr. Rabbit! Most dogs will chase rabbits and squirrels but the overwhelming majority of them did not do it professionally. (For the record, she had 438 races, she won a little over 10% of them, and finished in the top 3, 70% of the time). So, it wasn't a level playing field to start with. I don't know who was more surprised at how quick she got on top of them me or the squirrels. Probably the squirrels. It didn't take long for the backyard to turn into the killing fields. I was starting to get a little pissed off, how many squirrels and rabbits have to die before they get the message? The rabbits definitely got the memo quicker, after we started reaching double digits in dead critters we saw less rabbits in the yard. She even got a couple of doves (I told you she's quick). In our house all animals are sacred (we relocate spiders, we don't kill them), so we have never endorsed or encouraged this kind of behavior, (can you be horrified and proud?) but there are natural laws and the squirrels need to get their shit together. Now whenever we let her out we always make a lot of noise and leave her with the parting admonition, "Don't kill anything". (Parenting is parenting, let's work together). And, we never leave her unattended in the yard for any length of time.
So now I have to spend half my time in the yard with her, to make sure she doesn't turn this years Easter Bunny into a chew-toy. As much as we love and trust her, jungle law is jungle law and the honor system will not work here. What's the turnaround time on a newborn rabbit any way? I mean completely, from birth, to out of the hole, to living on it's own? Days, weeks, months??!! I need to know now, I've got shit to do. I can't be spending the next few weeks of my life standing guard over a rabbit hole, just because some self absorbed mother rabbit had the irresponsible and ill-conceived idea to give birth in the middle of hells half acre. I feel for the bunny, I do, but isn't that the chance the rabbit was taking? What kind of Darwinian exercise is this anyway? You'd expect this kind of behavior from squirrels, guinea pigs, or gerbils for god's sake. But I thought rabbits were better than that. Have they just given up as a species? Was there a total breakdown in the genetic code somewhere and now they are all coming back as gerbils? Look gerbils are cute, and considering the places gerbils have turned up, I should consider myself lucky they've only ended up in my backyard. Doesn't the smell of blood still hang in the air? Don't the dead souls report back from the afterlife? "Whatever you do avoid the yard on the corner, it's got the biggest fucking cat I've ever seen!"
The rabbit has left the hole! I repeat, the rabbit has left the hole! A great day indeed. I must say I am proud, thanks to our hard work and vigilance, and frankly, no real help from the rabbit community, the last baby has survived. But now it won't leave the yard. Are you kidding me? Look pal we got you this far, you are free to go, leave! Hit the road, hey look, the people two yards down haven't mowed their lawn in weeks, go for it! I was complaining to Denyse about this, and she said, he doesn't want to leave, he was born here, this is his home. And I said, Well, if he doesn't snap out of it, he's going to die here. I've got two words for you buddy, natural selection.
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