stuff

Kyle still feels blechy with recurring coughing fits.

He now has bands around his molars, spacers for braces in just over two weeks.

Lisa has her first personal training session today; hopefully, Saul won't kick her ass like he did mine (I'm afraid she'll bail of she overdoes it).

But seriously, can this woman just SHUT THE FUCK UP?



[uh, actually, under Gerald Ford]

Rep. Michele Bachmann (R-MN): Obama campaign un-American. Wanting the people of Minnesota to be "armed and dangerous on this issue of the energy tax." Proclaiming her role in Washington, DC, as "a foreign correspondent on enemy lines." Declaring Ted's Kennedy's "Serve America Act," a community service program for young people, "re-education camps." Stating that carbon dioxide is "necessary... to human life."

She's making Daisy look like a freaking rock scientist (in the immortal words of Tara Reid).

Ah, swim season

That would be me floating face-down. Not that Kyle's doing any better today. He didn't go to polo practice yesterday (fatigue from the previous night's hospital visit), and he didn't go to school today. He has some shortness of breath... Lisa talked to Chronis yesterday, and the doc said that if things remained status quo not to worry, but if he started feeling some shortness of breath, to get an appt... so I'm waiting until the office opens at nine to call...

0859 now.... and...

time to call...

He's a Loser, Baby... so why don't you kill him...

So we spent much of last night/this morning in the St. John's ER with Kyle and bronchial spasms... more on that later... maybe later today, maybe tomorrow.

On more pleasant news, SUC's thug Rey Maualuga fell precipitously in yesterday's NFL draft.



After his unprovoked assault on a kid at a Halloween party (and his subsequent "own"ing of the police), and his brutal head-shot on Pat Cowan in the 06 game (which for some reason, highlight reel makers LOVE to show despite it being CLEARLY a cheap shot... and illegal at that), and his coronation as some kind of god among linebackers (including the cover of SI last week... which I had to pass on to my Trojan friend/neighbor because I didn't want to risk paper cuts wiping my ASS with it)... well, let's just say his falling to the second round of the draft behind the two other SUC linebackers (and honestly, I think Cushing is a stud, and Matthews will probably have a better career than Cushing and Thugaluga COMBINED)... is just a great example of karma being a bitch wearing Bruin blue, baby.

It couldn't have happened to a nastier guy.

Fuck him.

more death

Ninja, our guinea pig, passed away in the night.

Last Sunday, Lisa took him outside to play in the sun and on the lawn. He snacked on a callalily... as it turns out, they're toxic.

So we'll bury him in the backyard tonight.

Damn, it's been a rough week.

Pa's still coughing. Last night, his foot on his stroke-affected side swelled up. He's going to call his surgeon today.

Man, the hits just keep coming.

oh, come on... this is ridiculous!

Last week, Bruce brought out Mike Ness of Social Distortion on stage for "Bad Luck"...

Last night in Boston, Bruce covered the Ramones' "I Wanna Be Sedated"... and brought out members of the Dropkick Murphys for "So Young and In Love," "American Land" (I'm sure their brand of Irish punk dovetailed perfectly into that one... YOUTUBE DON'T FAIL ME!!!), and "Glory Days."

Man, what's next???

----------------------

OK, I guess the Dropkick reference kinda makes sense... they've been covering "Badlands" lately...



Yeah, baby... for the ones who had a notion, a notion deep inside...

gone

GG's gone, but not forgotten.

Hospice cleaned her up... and quite frankly made her look dead. Before, she just looked asleep, at peace. But of course, she was in a curled-up sleeping position on her side... with rigor mortise, that probably would have been bad for when the mortuary came for transport.

Grandma B is doing well. Her brothers in town are a very good thing. It's good that she finally called Wally on Sunday.

The mortuary took her away yesterday afternoon.

Jack took it fairly well... we talked for a long time about missing people (Jack was jealous that he only had GG for 9 years but Kyle had her for 14... didn't have the heart to tell him that the nine years he got weren't her best). We talked some about Scotty, GG's husband, and how both boys would have loved him. All in all, he took it well.

Kyle took it fine as well. He had gone over with Lisa the night before to say goodbye, so he was prepared... well, as prepared as a 14 year-old can be.

Yesterday, we looked at the scrapbook Lisa had put together for GG's 80th birthday, nearly 11 years ago. It was great to see her smile, her big open winning smile.

Better yet was a two-page spread late in the book, with pictures of GG's wild life... "A wild horse of a woman" was the title, taken--I think--from a Sandra Cisneros piece. That she was. The pictures covered good times from the 30s through the 80s and they were crazy. Dressed as a beer can for Halloween. Laughing over a beer bottle that had a cock's head nipple on it. The legendary picture of her at Pt. Mugu standing next to her racing dirtbike.

On the way back from picking up Kyle from practice at Rio, I shared with him the bawdiness of the old badass broad: in her bathroom down in Santa Monica, the light-switch cover was a picture of a guy in his garage workshop, holding a book that read "Do It Yourself"... only his pants were at his ankles, and his dick was the light switch... so every time you turned on or off the light... you were doing it (him) yourself. I'm sure it mortified Lisa as a girl... but, man, on my first visit to meet her grandparents? Well, let's just say, I don't often laugh in someone's bathroom, but that sure put me to ease... what a bawdy old lady.

And on that ride home from Rio, he played songs to fit the moment. "And the Band Played 'Waltzing Matilda'" ... he knew that GG's name was Matilda. "The Body of the American" perfect. "Ida Called You Woody, Joe" a tribute to someone loved and respected who has passed. And then as we neared the house, "The '59 Sound"... I slowed to make sure we heard it all. I know what would have been next: Joey Ramone's version of "What a Wonderful World."

Thank goodness there wasn't time. I was already crying, and I wouldn't have been able to see the road if I had heard that great great song.

I'm listening to it now, though... and while my eyes are wet, I'm smiling.

I think that's how GG would have wanted it.

GG

I'm sore from yesterday... thighs feel like concrete... will need to stretch some today... but all that doesn't matter.

GG looks to be on her last legs now. She fell on Saturday, and has not been able to stand on her own since, and yesterday did not get out of bed at all. Her two sons are now in town.

Lisa and I want this to end as quickly as possible. GG was always so full of life (I think I mentioned this before, but we have a photo of her racing dirt bikes at Point Mugu back in the '30s), and -- at least until Sunday -- her faculties have been there, and so we can only assume that she has some discouragement that her mind can't make her body do what she wants.

Friday night, when we dropped by, I asked her, "How are you doing?" and she responded with "Anyone I can." That's GG, bawdy and rowdy... that response has been infrequent of late (and even then, she hasn't used her usual follow-up -- "And the goodlooking ones twice." -- in a long, long time). But the fact that she used it at all late last week told me that she's still in there, that the faculties are still somewhat intact.

Of course, those faculties are slipping now.

Monday night, GG told Lisa after waking up from dozing that "there must be two places." Lisa could only get that GG was dreaming of a different place. Her old house back on Greenwood in Santa Monica? Heaven?

The same night, she kept saying, "He's here." While I think that may have been a reference to son David's arrival. Grandma B is sure that she's talking about Scotty, her late husband, and that he's come to escort her.

Last night, Kyle went over with Lisa. He came home with an account of what I can only call delusion: GG would hold an imaginary piece of food in one hand, and use the other hand to pick pieces off of it and put it to her mouth. After doing this for a while, she would then bite or lick the main piece in her hand (Kyle thought she was biting, Lisa and Shannon thought she was licking). And while in the telling of it, it might sound sad or pathetic, both Lisa and Shannon thought it was endearing, even cute, like a child imagining.

[it's interesting to me that her imaginary act was one that hasn't happened in real life for days, maybe even a week. GG has stopped eating. She is willing to drink but when she is brought food, she says she just ate and that she's full... the Alzheimer's? ]

The sons will go back on Friday. We don't want Grandma B to have to be in the house alone when GG passes, so we're hoping that she goes quickly. I want my memories to be of the badass bawdy broad, not the neo-child picking at imaginary fruit.

----------------------------

Grandma B just called distraught. I think GG's gone, but I'm not sure... I called Lisa and am waiting for her to get back to me.

-----------------------------

11:50:

back from Grandma B's...

she's gone. at peace. not forgotten.

laughing hard in Heaven, telling dirty jokes, bowling a 300, and square-dancing away eternity with Scotty... all while wearing a human-sized beer-can Halloween costume!

gonna miss that badass bawdy broad... Godspeed, Tillie... we all love ya

consider that an ass-whoopin'

went to the gym for my first personal training session. measurements were taken, condition evaluated.
238 pounds. 36% body fat (and 24% is the upper end of "overweight"... so I think that puts me in the "obese" category).
trainer wants me to lose 45 pounds... his calculations are that if I get down to 195 then my body fat will be only 24%... joy.
the ellipitical (sp?) feels awkward.
stretching was a pain in the ass. literally.
core work wiped me out.
then this damn hopping on one leg got me to the point of nearly puking.

being fat drunk and stupid is sooooo much easier.

and we begin again

Joined the gym on Saturday.
Need to get back on the bike.
Want to get Jack to the tennis court.
Gotta start counting points again.

I've wasted nearly a third of this year: my weight is back up to 239.

Damn.

World Turned Upside Down

'Nuff said.

New Music

OK, so I didn't see Bruce Wednesday night (Tom Morello showed again for Ghost again) or last night (Jim, I'm counting on a report!).

And I won't be checking out Gaslight at Coachella on Sunday.

But listening to NPR's All Songs Considered, I heard a cut off the new Bob Dylan record, "Beyond Here Lies Nothin'" ... and in the words of my beloved Anthem:

And then I heard it like a shot through my skull to my brain,
I felt my fingertips tingle, and it started to rain...

Damn, that's cool... and yeah, that Los Lobos-y sound is coming from David Hildago.

Gotta break out my ol' Los Lobos today (even though I'm deep into the audio book for Columnbine by Dave Cullen [incredible, btw]).

The meds are kickin' in, if you haven't noticed... damn, without this head cold I think I'd be feeling pretty good today...

meds

are good... though I'm battling the cold that's been floating around the house, I feel somewhat better now that the wellbutrin has arrived (feel down, but not out... which is how I felt yesterday)

I wanna be sedated (not really, but I need my fucking drugs)

OK, I know. It's been a while.

Jack's been on break for a week and a half now. Kyle just this week.

We started a mail-order prescription thing, but there's been a delay, so I haven't had a wellbutrin in a handful of days. I'm starting to feel it. Kinda just hitting that wall.

The doctor's appointment for Jack went well. The pediatrician discussed some ways to dealing with the situations as they come up. He thinks Jack's just acting out (given the frequency or lack thereof). He's concerned that doing any sort of psychological intervention at this point may just reinforce the sense of attention and therefore actually help the problem escalate. He's probably right.

Our main tv (the bigass behemoth Pa brought with him) died on Easter. So yesterday we moved the tv from our bedroom (another heavy bastard, a 22-year old Sony) into the living room. We went looking for tvs last night (our thinking is that we'll put a small flatscreen in our room, learn the ins and outs of installing/setting it up and then once we're comfortable with that -- and once we've researched and picked out the right monitor, wall mount, etc -- we'll buy the replacement for the living room). It's a good thing the tax man's news two weeks ago was good.

Of course, it does remove some options for us doing our patriotic duty and stimulating the ol' economy. I think Springsteen day after tomorrow is (or at least should be) out. Coachella on Sunday is out (really wish Gaslight was playing a SoCal date that wasn't out in the desert)... Kyle's got a series of games on that day (though with his cough, coupled with the fact he missed yesterday's club practice because if it, and now this morning's swim practice because of it, AND the two goalies ahead of him are already signed up for the games, I'm not sure about how much playing time he's going to have in the pool).

And I guess that's what's hitting me right about now (that and the fact my keyboard is occasionally dropping "I"s I key in... in fact, for the remainder of this post, I'm not going to fill them in [or I will, with just an underscore]). I don't know if it's the wellbutrin not talking to me or if I'm h_tting some kind of mid-life crisis of selfishness. I want to do it all. I want to go to Coachella. Want to see Springsteen (and yes, in priority of Jersey bands, that is my order of preference right about now). I want Lisa around the house th_s week and not babysitting GG for Grandma B (who has been farming out that responsib_lity more and more lately, even calling down the cousins aga_n last week for duty). And I want the damn Ural motorcycle..._ must be in a mid-life. I have even thought: well, we'll need another vehicle when Kyle turns sixteen next year... so a Ural w_th a sidecar that can't go faster than 60 might be the safest vehicle (motorcycle as the safest vehicle... Ma's ashes are spinning out in a vortex out there in the Pacific somewhere). I had been thinking maybe a SmartCar as the new Kyle/backup vehicle next year, but in my MLC (mid-life crisis) mode, I'm thinking: well, where's the fun in that? Or maybe _ just need the fucking wellbutrin.

Whatever.

Plus the news that Logan Paulsen, our stud TE m_ght have broken his foot again (shades of Ben Olsen???) is not help_ng my mood.

damn keyboard

Might as well just get to work...

---------------------------

update

talked to my doc's asst... the pharmacist company balked at my wellbutrin order... said that 200mg 3x daily was an awfully high dosage. doc said it was correct LAST WEEK... so the asst is confused as to why the meds aren't here yet... she's gong to follow up but in the meantime send a week's worth of script to the local pharm... should have t for tonight...

now, of course, I'm a little concerned... so I'm at the high end of the prescription scale of the wellbutrin? joy

of course, the concern doesn't end there... so if it's such a high dosage, let's cut the fucker off cold turkey

no wonder i feel like crap... at my haircut, I kept staring at my own face, it and just didn't look right... and haven't felt that way in a long while... sigh

Lisa must be concerned, too... she's on the phone now wth the mailorder pharmacy after talking to the doc's asst herself...

so everyone is freakin' ... great

--------------------------------------

The mailbox runneth over with meds... thank goodness....

uh, right

yesterday was crazy with work (started with a 7am conf call with the MAJ ripping the LT a new one... I tried to intercede, saying that the end user may have a-- only to be cut off by the MAJ on a tirade... glad he's not pissed at me)... and at noon I got a voice mail (I leave my cell at the desk for lunch) from the MAJ needing an immediate callback (though not for anything to do with the site... huh?)... looks like we're patenting the app I've been working on, and they needed my full contact info. That was pretty cool.

Monday, those U2 tix go on sale, but today as UCLA season ticket holder, we get an early chance for tix... I think we may just do that.

More later as I think about it... in the midst of a confcall at the moment... typing and listening... uh, right

-------------------------------

Listening to Hulu again... this time, one of my favorite films from the last decade, Sexy Beast... with a scary Ben Kingsley and a much lesser well known Ian McShane (man, I miss Deadwood [Kings is all right, but no Deadwood]):

Tank, What Tank?

Well, if people were wondering if Obama would get a free pass from Jon Stewart on the Daily Show, I think we now have an answer:



Good to see everyone is fair game (especially when they do something stupid... as, sigh, is the case here).

In other news, Kyle's Open House is tonight... should be interesting.

In other other news, I've been getting pretty severe headaches after an hour or so of work (no, seriously)... luckily, Lisa and I have optometrist appointments next week... I think that may be the root cause ('specially since after a day of work, I can't read without my reading glasses). Time for some tylenol...