East Coast Squarehead

66 - 67

2010-03-20T15:19:00.004-05:00

My kindergarten teacher was a nice old lady. When I was a cop I helped the medics carry her out of her apartment on an aided case one day. She said that she remembered me. It was twenty-five years after the fact but she remembered me. I wonder how that works, with teachers I mean. Are they all blessed with this indelible memory of every kid who sat amongst the sea of kids that a teacher must swim through in a decades long teaching career?

I'm pretty sure she really did remember me. I have an unusual name. A Scandinavian name. She was first generation Scandinavian. Same country even. Yeah, she really did remember but she never made it back to that little apartment. That was kind of sad. Cops firefighters and medics all deal with that sort of thing all the time. It's a lot different when it's someone you knew or had a connection to.

I knew this guy John. We hung out with the same crowd when we were teens. When I was a cop he ended up living just blocks from my station house. He actually lived upstairs from one of the cops I worked with. One day a neighbor in the building where he lived called nine-one-one. The neighbor said that she had not seen John in days. She knew John and she knew that was unusual. She was fairly certain he was in his apartment. My partner and I arrived and spoke to the cop we worked with who lived downstairs. I ended up going up the fire escape with that guy while my partner continued to pound on John's door in an attempt to contact him.

From the fire escape outside John's kitchen window we could see dozens of empty beer cans and hard liquor bottles strewn about the floor. We saw legs, John's legs in blue jeans and white running shoes laying across the doorway from the kitchen to the living room of the small one bedroom apartment. The double hung window was not locked. We slid it up and the off-duty cop I was with punched the screen to gain entry to the apartment while I called for medics to respond.

John was barely breathing. He was not responsive at all. My partner had retrieved the oxygen we carried in the trunk of the patrol car and hooked it up with a nasal cannula. He fit the cannula in John's nose and set the rate of flow at number two. All we could do was wait for the medics who did respond in very good time.

I knew John had a drinking problem prior to this incident. Another guy I worked with had charged him with DUI after an MVA that the officer witnessed himself. Thankfully no one was injured in that accident. I would see John at the bus stops at times. I would see John stumbling up the street. We gave John rides when we could. Just to get him off the street. He was never incoherent or unable to converse so transport to the hospital was never required. John had been through all the programs.

I called a couple of old friends who knew him as well. They were able to contact family. When I was done with my shift that day I changed in the locker room and responded to the hospital to see John. I was not family so I was not allowed to enter ICU to visit. I badged the nurses. I told them I was an old friend of John's. I told them I was one of the cops on the call. They said no family members were present. No one was with John. They let me in for a visit. He was still in a coma like state. I held his hand for a minute and talked to him. I left after a short time. I didn't want to get emotional. The two guys I had called went to visit him after I did. I talked to them on the phone about it. They reported the same. No family members present. John still in a coma.

John died a few days later.

Brick.

2010-03-19T13:15:00.007-05:00

I was talking to my sister. She said that I'm facing what may seem to be an impassable brick wall. She said that on the other side of that wall is a garden. The garden leads down to the dunes an onto the beach. She said that I will get to the other side of that wall.

(I need some overhead imagery. How long is the wall? Do I go left or right? What's the quickest route. How thick is the wall. Can I breach it?)

I wasn't getting it. I never do. Then she tells me that when I'm driving back up to Jersey from Florida I should stop and stay at my niece's place when I get to D.C.

(...ring the bell...Hi! It's your recently suicidal uncle here for an unexpected visit. Got any ammo? Preferably hollow points. Wad cutters won't do. I might just wound myself then have to wait around and die from led poisoning.)

If I'm as far north as D.C. I'll just finish up the drive. It's close enough to Jersey. My swimmingly cosmopolitan niece does not need her uncle dropping by to disrupt her life. She would not agree of course. She's family. I'm just saying that there may be some better options.

(I have this blind cousin who still rides his old Triumph. He loves Zep. A blind Zep fan on a motorcycle. I love this country.)

I'll stop in North Carolina. My cousin lives lives there. Not too far from Fort Bragg. I can spend a night or two, it's about half the way up so it's a given. Maybe he'll let me ride one of his old bikes around.

SEVEN - OH.

2010-03-18T13:05:00.017-05:00

When I was a cop that meant out of service. The Ten Code guys would say ten-seven. I think the trend is leaning towards just saying what it is. Numerical radio codes can be confusing.

I'm in Florida right now. I drove down here almost two weeks ago. Left home late Saturday afternoon. Arrived here on Sunday evening. It seems that I wanted to die. Briefly that is. I don't mean die briefly, I mean for a brief few moments in time I wanted to die. My wife wouldn't give me my pistol when she threw me out this last of now six times that she's asked me to leave. I told her I wanted to sell it.

Somewhere along the highway I stopped at a rest area with no facilities available beyond a place to park. I dug a very small hole. Just wide and deep enough to hold my four inch folding knife blade up with the handle firmly secured in the dirt. My plan was to fall on the blade. Not a very good plan. As I stood over the knife trying to line it up correctly I realized that the odds were not in my favor, at least as far as the wound being fatal. No, my training and experience led me to believe that I would probably just hurt myself and end up looking stupid when some truck driver or Trooper found me there.

(I didn't really want to die anyway. Still don't. Never really did. Looking at it on this side. Now.)

So my next stroke of shear genius is as follows:

I decided to continue south. The Sunshine State being my destination. I have an old friend there, I'll go see him. He owns a couple of weapons. Firearms that is. I'm thinking I'll talk him into going to the range and when he opens up that gun safe I'll grab something short like his pistol and run out the door with it. When I got to his house I realized I wouldn't be doing that either. After a few hours of sleep I told him what was going on. I told him that I had actually considered using his pistol. He was fuckin' pissed. I don't blame him. The cops probably would have kept the piece.

(As well as the peace. Get it? I like that. I'll have to use that sometime.)

So not only would he have to live with me capping myself using his gun, he would have been out at least a grand. It's a titanium Smith with an integral laser site. Nice gun.

(He doesn't care about the gun. That's my own spin.)

He calls a number. I checked myself in. I told the shrink what I had thought about. They kept me for a week.

I take two pills every morning. One at night. I'm doing follow up care. I will not leave my kids like that. It was selfish for me to think that I could. That's just part of it. That's the most important part for me however. Suicide ain't painless. That's a stupid fuckin' song anyway. Good movie, great show, stupid song.

I'm staying with family right now. I've got some relatives down here. Good people. I have to replace calipers and rotors on the old Jeep. Had a caliper freeze up once I got down here. When that's done I'll be heading north. I'm going to stay with family and try to assess the situation. Get involved with my therapy up there. It's already set up. With enough sleep you realize that life really is good.

EIGHT - OH....Back in service.

Tunes.

2010-01-29T21:00:00.010-05:00

I want to write something. Got nothing to write. Listening to Steve Earle. Copperhead Road. What a song. I love the old Highlander pipes in the beginning.........

McKee's Mills.

I remember my great-uncles on my mother's side in Canada. The ones who fought in WWI. Those guys were something. I remember three of them. There were five or six all together. I think I remember three of them. I know for sure that I met two of them. One of them in particular, A.J., I spent a summer with in 1971. He was an old man even back then. He lived in a cabin on the Little Bouctouche River. One of my grandmother's cousins lived upsteam on a farm. I called him Uncle Earl and he taught me how to shoot that summer. An old bolt action single shot .22 with a scope mounted on rings that held the scope an inch or so off the top of the rifle. I was an excited nine year old. I was going to shoot like the big guys, with a scope and everything. I sat on the bench behind that rifle that was nestled on some small home made sandbags on an old picnic table. Several targets were stapled to the old barn about twenty-five yards downrange. I could see the small bulls eye clear as day through that scope. Earl quietly put some tape over the scope and directed me to use the iron sights that were visibly accessible through the scope rings. The small bulls eye was an even smaller black circle off in the distance now.

"The top of that front sight blade on the bottom of that bulls eye circle. Keep it centered in the rear. Breath out slow, and squeeze."

Earl taught me the basic fundamentals of good marksmanship that summer. Earl also taught me how to handle a weapon safely. Earl took me fishing on the banks of that Little Bouctouche River. We also went fishing in the little flat bottomed boat out where the river gets wider, closer to where Uncle A.J. lived. Yeah, Uncle Earl was a steady, confident and patient teacher. Uncle A.J. on the other hand, Uncle A.J. was a little different.

Uncle A.J. had a shit eatin' grin as wide as that river just down the hill from his cabin. Uncle A.J. liked to show off his bearskin rug and tell you how he killed that bear with a Broom Handle Mauser that he took off a dead German in the trenches back around 19 something teen. That bear chased him up a tree and he dropped his rifle of course. Now he would be the first to tell you that climbing up a tree is not the thing to do when running from an angry bear, unless you want to lure that bear to an early demise with a couple of magazines at point blank range. Even then the bear didn't die right away. Uncle A.J. had to track that bastard almost two miles before he came upon it and finished it off with a rifle round to the the chest. And don't get me started about the Moose. The rack that hung over the door to that cabin seemed like it was ten feet across.

I had a real nice time in Canada that summer when I was nine years old.

Those guys were good guys.

April? continued.

2010-01-26T10:52:00.006-05:00

Yeah, after I said "April?" and must have sounded surprised, and said something about being put on hold on the suicide hot line and not getting any respect (I love Rodney Dangerfield. He was a funny bastard.) the girl took my particulars after asking me to hold on while she checked with someone who turned out to be a Psych. Nurse who called me back the next morning. I wasn't home so I had to call her back. I just got around to doing that today. Well I have not done it yet but I will as soon as I'm done with this. Did I mention that sometimes I put things off? Anyway, it's all good. I am to speak with someone today who will "interview" me telephonically.

Is that even a real word? Telephonically? I would sometimes write that in police reports back when I did that sort of thing.

The witness was contacted telephonically at his place of employment and interviewed briefly
via the aforementioned telephone. The witness did state that he (the witness) did observe an altercation that took place at the aforementioned location on the aforementioned date at the aforementioned time. The witness did further state that he (the witness) did clearly see the aforementioned alleged perpetrator known commonly on the street as "Meat" strike the victim with a telephone numerous times about the victim's head and shoulders. The victim was in fact beaten.........telephonically?

Okay. Not really, but you get the idea. We really did use the word telephonically. Maybe not that often but we used it. And I did once know of a guy called "Meat". I never met him but I know someone who did. Oh yeah. The assault with a phone thing is actually fairly common. It's a readily available weapon, frequently used during domestics.

Hey Tommy. I have to go call the Psych people back. I'm fine.....Really.

April?

2010-01-25T15:19:00.003-05:00

So last week I called the mental health section of the local hospital to make an appointment. I'm not sure how it works. Do I need a referral from my doctor? The answer is no. After asking me what kind of insurance I have they tell me I do not need a referral. Guess I have one of those "Cadillac Plans" that congress wants to tax.

Yeah, that's a great idea. Lets tax hard working people who have insurance while the plugs on Wall Street continue to pay themselves millions of dollars in bonuses with our money that many of them still have not payed back. Hey, are those useless skells in Washington going to pay taxes on their insurance plans? Are the plugs on Wall Street going to still be able to claim private jets and fancy vacations as business expenses? I have to be honest here. If the tax burden is equally shared, with every American shouldering his or her responsibility based on what we earn and what we can afford then I am all for it. I just have a sneaking suspicion that that's not what's going on here. Call me a cynic. I'm just sayin'.

I digress. It just occurred to me. I don't need therapy and we don't need health care reform. At least not the kind of reform that's being discussed. Not one single Washington skell is really looking out for us. They are all looking out for themselves and their rich friends, the plugs on Wall Street and the Insurance Vultures. The President wanted health care reform. He had some ideas that he wanted to implement. He talked about those ideas during his campaign. We The People put him in office. We gave him a majority in Congress and he decided to ask Congress to write the health care reform bill. He wanted the losers, the minority in Congress to have a say in the matter. When did the minority, when they were the majority ever give a rat's ass about what the minority thought? Never.

No. I don't need therapy and we don't need health care reform. What we need are pitch forks and torches. (That's a metaphor. Just trying to make a point.) Next time we go to the polls we need to throw them all out. That's the only way that the organized crime families, excuse me, the two major parties in this country who control everything and neatly divide and share power in a way that makes it look like they are adversaries even though they are really just the same big organization with one goal in mind and that is to screw We The People every chance they get, that's the only way they will ever get the message. Thank God for run on sentences and shit.

Okay. I'm done. So the girl who answered the phone at the mental health center said none of the doctors are available until April. She asked me if I could call back then.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with our health care system.

Can't Think.

2010-01-09T14:14:00.003-05:00

I never wanted this to be a blog about me. It was supposed to be like a journal. Random nonsense, stuff like that. I don't how it got here. Well I know but I don't like it. This blog was supposed to be my way of scratching my writer's itch. Nothing more than that. Now I've gone and put some real personal stuff out there. Can't say I'm happy about it. Don't want anyone to think I'm feeling sorry for myself or looking for attention. Having read some of what I've written I can see why someone might think the opposite.

I will get help to deal with the past. I'm just not sure that I want to write about it anymore.

Hey Tommy. Not much to say right now. I'm more than a little embarrassed. I think I'm just gonna keep this simple for awhile.

10. Already?

2010-01-05T12:01:00.010-05:00

Yeah. So it ain't been great. What can you do. Three posts started in the last six months. All of them remain incomplete. That orange word draft stares back at me every time I look at this blog.

My father did pass. It sounds stupid, everyone says it but it's true. He was suffering horribly. He is at peace now. My mother is adjusting. My oldest nephew lives at her house now. He works and goes to school. He is doing a good job helping out his grandmother. She gave him my father's Chrysler. He needs it to get to and from. It was a good thing to do. Give him the Chrysler.

My wife is going through a lot these days. The chemo left her with arthritis in every joint in her body. We have to drive all the way to Altoona for that doctor. They put her on meds for that too. She had her ovaries removed to prevent her body from producing estrogen. Estrogen is the enemy when it comes to breast cancer. She still has to take an estrogen blocker because the body still produces a small amount of estrogen in the fat cells. That happens in men too. All in all it's safer than Tamoxifen, for her anyway. Everyone is different. This seems to be what is best for her. Six different heavy duty meds now. Actually seven when you count the antibiotic she just started, but that one is temporary. Hopefully it's an infection and not something else insidious like bladder cancer or liver and/or kidney damage from the other powerful meds.

I am not always what is best for her. I have not been taking care of her like I should. I moved out in September at her request. I moved back home just before Thanksgiving. The Sunday after Christmas she asked me to leave again. On New Years Eve I moved back. It was an hour or so passed midnight. New Years Day I guess.

She had real reasons for asking me to leave. We were arguing too much. Well, it's more like I was arguing too much. She is going through, and has gone through life changing, body scarring, mind altering situations that are hard to imagine. I have stayed the same.

When I think real hard. On those very rare occasions when I'm totally honest with myself, and I'm talking rare. Like maybe twice in the last thirty years kind of rare. When that happens I have to admit that not only have I stayed the same while my wife goes through all this, I have been the same since about 1972.

I promised her I would go to therapy. I have not done that yet. I have not done much of anything except run away and avoid stuff, since about 1972.

So here it is. 2010. A guy from my old high school is a governor. Another guy is a best selling author. Those two guys are my age and I would have graduated with them had I actually graduated instead of quitting. Running away. I did not know either of those guys. I didn't even know their names. I don't recognize their pictures. It's a big school. It was even bigger back in the seventies. I got my G.E.D. and a bunch of life experience. I enlisted. I became a cop. It was all about running away...... Pretending...... Falling...... Pretending...... Falling.

My father was an alcoholic. He spent the better part of his last twenty years here on earth sober. He was very involved in AA. He helped a lot of people on their own paths to sobriety. For that I am proud of him. The rest of it, growing up like that. The only boy. Catching the beatings. I fell. I ran away from all of that.

I was molested by an older cousin when I was ten. I ran away from that too. I don't even like writing it here.

I have talked about these things in private. Shared them with my wife and a couple of close family members. One best friend. I still run away. I still pretend. I still fall.

So I'm broken and hard to live with. Honesty scares me. Now you know why my wife has had enough. She no longer has time for my bullshit.

I have used this blog in the past as a vehicle. Run away. Pretend. Falling. The events described are true. My truth is not. If that makes any sense.

If I click on the orange button. If I publish this post I will still be running. Still falling. Still pretending to a point because it is anonymous. I won't be able to take it back. Maybe that's a start. Maybe I'm still lying to myself. Pretending. Falling away from the truth.

Only time will tell.

".......please call......"

2009-06-30T12:43:00.002-05:00

The answering machine was flashing. The message was not good. I called. My sister said he died at 11:00 AM on that Friday. I didn't say anything. I just told her I would be there soon. I left about two hours later. Five hours after that I was at my mother's house in Jersey.

The funeral home had already taken him away. My mother was glad to see me. She cried and I held her for a few minutes. Her husband of fifty eight years, my father, was finally at peace. He fought hard. He fought to the end. His stubborn refusal is to be admired. His last lesson to his children and grandchildren was never give up. Never give in. Never let the bastards, or death make the rules.

Hey Tommy. Yeah, almost three months since I've written a damn thing. My wife is okay. She's doing better than she was. She's in North Carolina with the girls. Our friends have a place on the Outer Banks. I couldn't go. Couldn't get this week off. Besides, it's better this way. Just Momma and the girls. It's good for all of them. I have to take care of the dogs and the birds. I'm going to write in some detail later today.

17, 18, 19, 20......

2009-04-02T15:15:00.004-05:00

Why not. It all rolls by like mile markers on the big road. Yard sticks. That's what we truck drivers call them. Yard sticks..........."Back it down eastbound. You got a four wheeler broke down in the fast lane, fifty-six over four."

Not a good place to be broken down. When I rolled by a Trooper had positioned her radio car behind the stalled mini-van. All the emergency lights flashing. The Trooper, wisely, had the driver and young passengers out of the vehicle and standing up on the berm off the roadway.

Stalled on the big road. Stuck in the fast lane. Too many stupid metaphors come to mind. Best to leave it alone.

I'm so friggin' tired these days. Run. Diesel. Radio. Stop and drop the pallets. Roll on to the next store. Kick the tires. Drop and hook. Shower. Sleep. Run.....Run.....Run.....

It don't get any better than this. I didn't really leave it alone either. I guess you can't help it. Everything is everything else.

I'm hungry. I need a cigarette.

Autosave.

2009-03-15T13:51:00.009-05:00

Okay. So this picture was taken a long time ago. I redacted my face and identifying tattoos. I only wanted to post this image because it is the only picture I have of my 1981 Wide Glide.

I have come to the conclusion that life as I knew it then was not as great as I once thought it was. Looking in the rear view with rose colored glasses ain't always the right way to look.

So now it's 21MAR09.

Got the new tires on the old Jeep today. The tire guy gave me a rebate form to fill out. I mailed it on my way back home. Fifty dollar rebate from Cooper.

Great. The Parrot is screaming and my wife is trying to get some sleep. She forgot to take one of her medications last night. She took it this morning but it still messed her up. Missing the scheduled dose. I'll have to get him something good to eat. That usually works.

I drove down to Pittsburgh yesterday morning. I pulled an empty fifty-three down to ABC, next to the Fox Chapel Yacht Club. It's right on the river. Exit eight off twenty-eight. All I had to do was pick up the Daily's and Little Hugs. Kids drinks. Only fourteen pallets, about twenty-six thousand pounds. Nice ride. Nice day for it too.

Hey Tommy. Nope. I got nothin'. I'll try to write some more later.

Good Stuff.

2009-02-22T19:04:00.005-05:00

So for Valentine's Day my wife gave me the Robert Plant/Allison Krauss album. "Raising Sand". It really is very good. I listened to the CD for the first time on Thursday, the twelfth. She gave it to me early so I could listen to it on my overnight Pittsburgh run. The mechanic down at The Dock put a new stereo in my tractor. I don't know how he got the company to pay for it. I didn't ask either. Sometimes you just don't need to know. You know?

The album is very good. I have always been an Allison Krauss fan. Her voice just gets to me. Robert Plant. I'm a die hard old Zep fan. It's Robert Fu#*in' Plant man! Talk about a guy who knows how to get the job done. He has really grown older gracefully. It's hard to imagine him doing Black Dog now. I just mean that all that good stuff was then. All this new good stuff is now.

So now it's the First of March. I wrote the above a couple of weeks ago. I have not sat down at this keyboard since then. Except to do the taxes. TurboTax. I bought it at Wal-Mart a few days ago. It makes life easier, and it's cheaper than going to a place to have it done. All those places do is fill out an on screen form, like TurboTax. We will actually get some money back this year. I had extra held from my paycheck. Last year we had to pay.

So we started filling the living room up with house plants. My wife's idea. I never told her about the reader comment on the last post. Plants are nice. Plants make you feel good. Spring is really trying to bust through the winter. I'm going to grill steaks later today.

My wife said I get to decide what we do with our tax refund this year. I'm going to put new tires on our old Jeep. Anything else it might need as well. I think I'll leave the rest of it alone. We should have a couple hundred left after tires and a whatever else the old Jeep might need. (I'm thinking exhaust hangers. Got a little vibration coming from back there.) It's nice to have that option.

We are laughing more these days. She is feeling better. She still gets those hot flashes. That's the Tamoxifen that causes that.

I was on the phone with Beetus on Friday afternoon. I was dog assed tired from the work week. Laughing like a couple of idiots, me and Beetus were. Laughing at stupid nothings just like when we were sixteen and stoned. It's better these days. We are older now. We get tired easier than we did back then. Tired is as good as stoned. Tired is better than stoned. Tired is free and legal.

So my wife hears me laughing in the kitchen. She knows I must be on the phone with Beetus. She comes in and starts just like she always did, but hasn't done for awhile because of the whole cancer thing. She starts on both of us. She's really good at breaking balls. She's like a Zen Master of ball breaking. Me and Beetus, we can't keep up. Me and Beetus are totally out of our league. The best we can do is make the occasional pathetic attempt. All that does is leave the door open for more. Beetus is laughing so hard he's crying. Me too. Beetus is very happy about all of this. Beetus just said, she's back.

Yeah. She's back. I hope it's all here to stay. It's so good to hear her laugh. It's so good to see that sparkle in her eyes. She has another appointment coming up. A complete round of diagnostic stuff to see where she's at. I'm praying, with my fingers crossed. Praying that they find nothing else. Praying that she's beat this thing. Beat it like a drum baby.

1979.

2009-01-24T18:11:00.003-05:00

That was a good year. My first Harley. It wasn't really a Harley. It was an old home built rigid chopper frame with a 1200 Sporty motor. I didn't have a motorcycle license. I didn't have a driver's license. It was before I took my road test. I never did register that bike. I did ride it a lot. I kept it at a friends house because I didn't want my parents to know I bought a ratty old chopper. I don't think they would have cared. They may have complained about all the room I was taking up in the one garage. 1979 was a pretty good year to be seventeen with a job.

I started this post a few weeks ago. I don't remember where it was going. Probably some place stupid. Considering the old chopper thing and all. It's safe to say that this was going to a stupid place. I have always been comfortable in Stupid. That's a good premise for a story. "Going To Stupid". Or, following the less is more thing. How about this. "Going Stupid". I like that.

Today is 08 February. The Steelers won. That's cool. My wife is struggling with all she now faces. I am struggling too.

I think I'm depressed. Not clinically, like I need a therapist and medication. I just think I'm not feeling great. Other than shovel snow and go to work I have done nothing but lay around with the clicker and eat. This has been going on for several weeks now. Today I will get moving.

I hate this part of the winter. The snow is no longer fun and new. It's all just gray and sad.

Spring is closing in on us. Now that thought puts a smile on my face.

Hey Tommy. Yeah, my wife and I joke about being old down in Boca. She had another bone scan. Doctor said she has arthritis in every joint in her body. She didn't have that last July, her last bone scan. They saw a very large spot on her spine. Further investigation, an M.R.I., shows it to be arthritis as well. She made a joke about moving to Arizona. The doctor said no. He said you want moist and warm for arthritis. He said Florida or the Gulf Coast somewhere. I guess we'll end up down there someday. After this winter. After several near misses driving the semi on the ice, Florida is looking better to me too. Yeah brother. Florida is looking real good to me these days. No more trucks. No bikes either. Maybe an electric golf cart. Later Tommy.

Better.

2009-01-09T08:01:00.003-05:00

Things have been. Better that is. We finished the hall and stairs project. We hung the new light at the top of the stairs, over the landing. Had to build a scaffold out from the upstairs hall to the landing so we could foot a ladder and hang the light. I busted through the ceiling from the attic. I took power from the fixture that was at the very top of the stairs in the upstairs hallway. I J-boxed it under the attic floor and pulled some wire over to the new location. Having two fixtures hanging within ten feet of each other would be stupid. The area where the old light hung is now patched and a smoke detector will go there. It's very nice.

The new light fixture is pretty cool. It's big but it works in this big old house. It was our Christmas present this year. My wife and I don't exchange gifts. We get something for ourselves together. Usually something for the house. One year we got a nice stereo. Once it was the video camera. We got the table that one year and the Shep chewed on one of the legs when she was a puppy.

So I'm hanging this light on Wednesday night. I already had the box up and the wire pulled from earlier in the week. So I'm on the eight foot ladder on top of the scaffold. The ladder is level with the upstairs floor but well above the downstairs floor. Being up in the air like that never really bothered me. I'm careful.

So my ears pop. I feel like I'm losing my balance. I try to get down off the ladder safely and for the most part I do. Sort of, but that's not the important part. I call in sick because I have a midnight Pittsburgh run that night. I go to the doctor yesterday. It seems that the Eustachian tubes in both of my ears are filled with fluid. Now this happened once before, just about three months ago and the docs gave me meds to deal with it. It's back. So I'm off work today, I will return on Monday. If the meds don't work this time then the ear nose and throat doctor will do something else. I'm thinking like a drain snake down through my ears.

My wife is glad to have me home. We are getting along much better now. I am keeping in mind that she is not herself these days. I am doing what she wants done when she wants it done. That's a big one. That's the one that really seems to be making a difference. That's the one that lets her know I love her and I will do anything for her. My procrastination thing has to be put off for another day.

I will write again too. I will also go do a little target shooting like I did back when. I always enjoyed putting holes in targets. It's something I've been good at since I was very young. I need a hobby. Writing is my passion. I don't know if it will ever go anywhere and I don't care. I will always write. Target shooing is something that I'm good at. It's something I enjoy. It's a skill that I would like to stay on top of. Maybe enter some local contests. It's an outdoor activity, so this ain't the time of year exactly. Writing however.

Hey Tommy.

Facing About.

2009-01-01T13:46:00.002-05:00

I've tried more than ever. I will keep trying. Facing yourself is something that's never finished, for me that is. One word answers no longer cut it. My wife wants all of me. She deserves that. An anonymous comment on the last post has me thinking. I have a habit of not thinking. It's easier that way. I'm finding out that it's not a good habit.

"Do something. Do anything even if it's wrong. Don't just stand there."

Words I've lived by for many years now. Words I heard in army training. Words I heard again in police academy training. Words I said myself as a firearms instructor at the academy. Words that I've mistakenly applied to every aspect of my life. I don't think the instructors who imparted those lessons really meant for them to be applied that way. But it worked for me, until now. Now I do have to just stand there. Now I do have to accept what's happening because it's really not in my power to change it. What is in my power, is like Anonymous said. What is in my power is to change me. I'm forty-six years old. I'm a stubborn blockhead. This will be no easy task.

Things have been going a little better since my last post. What I have done is a temporary fix. What I have done is to do whatever it is she wants done when she wants it done whether I agree or not. I know that's not the whole solution but it really does help. Besides, my wife is very smart and I really can't go wrong following her lead.

The Parrot is quietly talking to himself while I write this. I just got him a little treat. It's Bird Bread. My wife makes it from a recipe she found on-line. The younger baby girl and me, we made the current batch. It's corn bread with veggies and peanut butter and cheese. It's healthy and The Parrot loves it. I broke up a small piece for The Love Bird too.

Christmas was good here. I had to go to work at midnight and run a trailer over to one of our bigger stores. The holiday schedule. I have to do the same thing tonight, well Friday morning at 0100. Two stops. Easy shift. I'll be done early and the boss will probably let me go home when I'm done. I'll get paid for eight hours. It's his way of thanking me for not bitching about the extra overnight holiday schedule trips. He did that last week when I took that Christmas night run without complaining. I'm just glad I have a job. I'm not bitching about anything.

In my profile statement at the top of this page it states that I'm this simple guy. It states that life is good. The second part is still true. I mean it's not good that my wife has cancer. It is good that our kids are healthy and doing well. The simple guy thing. That's one of those things I have to look at. Being the simple guy ain't workin' to well these days. I'm not sayin' that being a simple guy is bad 'cause it's not. In my case, being a simple guy is a way of avoiding stuff. So in my case being a simple guy is something I can no longer get away with. I can still have simple taste. I can still enjoy simple pleasures 'cause I do. I just can't be that one word answer simple guy when it comes to the real deal. Life just ain't all that simple anymore.

I got an e-mail from my cousin. He's a Teamster too. He drives a beer truck in New England. He's a funny guy. I always liked him.

About Face.

2008-12-21T09:06:00.004-05:00

I don't see myself in the mirror. I'm there. I know I'm there. I just don't see myself. If I could really see myself I'd probably run away.

Yeah, it's snowing. Not a good day to go anywhere. My wife just went upstairs to lay down. She's been up since Friday morning. She napped on the couch for a few hours early Saturday evening but that's it. The Tamoxifen is messing with her. She started taking it on Friday as per her doctor's instructions. Last night she had deep aching pain in her bones. That's the Tamoxifen.

I have to make a base for the inflatable Frosty. The anchors they give you don't quite cut it. I used para cord and tent stakes for the guide lines. The little ones that come with Frosty were not enough. When the wind blows real hard, and it does do that here, he will pull out of the ground even if he's not inflated. I'm going to use some three quarter pine boards and screw the metal stand down to them. I can then sit some nice heavy flat rocks on those boards. Frosty will be stable. You have to secure your gear. That's important.

The older baby girl is home from college for Christmas. She's crashing in the living room with the clicker and one of the dogs on her lap. It's good to see her back home. It's good to see her relax.

The younger baby girl just had breakfast and went up to her room to read. She asked me if I would tell her when I'm done with this computer. I told her I'll be done soon. She smiled at me. I love to see that.

I argued with my wife again last night. She feels like crap. I wasn't seeing it. I was tired. I didn't just let her have that. I don't know how to handle any of this. I just keep acting like everything is still the same. It's not the same. It will never be the same again. I have a real hard time saying what it is. Saying how I feel. Saying what I think. She knows that. She tells me that. I deny it.

The truth is this. I've had a pit in my stomach for a year now. I am so damn scared. I don't want to lose her. The sicker she got from the chemo, the scarier it got for me. It's not about me. I have to face the truth. I'm not sure what that truth is. Half of my life is about avoiding the truth. She told me that last night. I know she's right. She said she feels trapped. She depends on my insurance and income. She's not able to work and take care of herself. She's no longer independent. She said she feels like I'm taking advantage of that. Maybe I am. I don't know if I am. I don't know as much truth about myself as I should. I do know that there is much to face. I don't want to face myself. The ugly stuff. The nasty stuff. The stuff that makes me cringe. The stuff that would not be there had I faced it when I should have. Or faced it the way it should have been faced at the time. I'm much better at looking out. I will face anything as long as it's not me. Now I may be losing her because of me. I have to face this. I have to stop, look, and listen to myself. To sort it all out and say it out loud. I really don't want to do this but I have to.

Honesty is scary.

It Goes.

2008-12-13T13:17:00.002-05:00

Another week just rolled on by. Quickly. More Pittsburgh trips in the semi. Down to Pechin's and Nickman's on Friday in the snow. It's a little bit dangerous driving the eighteen wheeler in the snow. The Jake brake can cause the tractor wheels to slip. The foot brake can cause the trailer wheels to slide, leading to a jackknife situation. Riding south on 119/22/66 with thirty-thousand pounds of cargo was not as bad as riding back north with an empty trailer. Had a couple of dicey moments. It's all good.

My wife is facing the cancer now. Facing it like she has not faced it before. Now that the chemo is done it seems like there is nothing looming on the immediate horizon. She has been crying by herself. The events of the past year and a half have come home to hit her. Hard.

The younger baby girl is now thirteen. We will take her out for dinner tonight. Her choice.

It just goes on.

07DEC08

2008-12-07T09:05:00.003-05:00

It's Sunday. December Seventh. So it was sixty-six years ago that the Japanese Imperial Navy attacked Pearl Harbor. When I was a little kid it was twenty- something years. Many of the parents in our neighborhood would remember this day. Most of my friends had fathers who fought in the war, with a few exceptions. Some of the younger dads served in Korea. I had a sixth grade teacher who fought in WWII, Korea and then spent some time in Vietnam in the early days of our involvement there. He was from North Carolina originally. His wife was from New Jersey. They were both teachers. He spent twenty-five years in the Army. He retired in 1965. I was in his sixth grade class in 1973.

I had a friend who lived on the block behind me. His grandparents came from Ireland. His father made a combat jump with the 82nd on D-Day. We only knew that because my friend's mother told us. His father never talked about it. His father was a cop in Newark. My old friend from the neighborhood is a cop too. State Police. It's an Irish thing I guess.

Another friend of mine. A very good friend. His father had been an Army Medic. He was tall and lean. He was very soft spoken but very tough. He was a truck mechanic at one of the big breweries in Newark. I broke my arm when I was seven. A stupid accident. The result of doing something stupid. Actually I was trying to fly but that's another story. Anyway, my friend's father made a kick ass splint and he made it very quickly. The bone was sticking out of my fore arm so he used rolled up newspaper and towels. The doctors at the hospital were impressed with the improvised dressing. They wanted to know who had done that. My mother told them it had been our neighbor and that he had been an Army Medic. That seemed to make sense to the doctors at the hospital.

I had a neighbor three doors down, to the north of my house. He lost his legs in WWII. He was Italian. He was very nice. When I was maybe five or six years old I asked him what happened to his legs. I thought he said he lost them in the water. So for quite some time I was thinking a shark bit them off or something. What he actually said was the war. Not the water.

In my high school, one of the administrators had been a young officer in the 82nd. He had been at that battle in Holland. It was a bridge that the paratroopers were trying to hang on to before the Germans could blow it up. The paratroopers were way out in front of their lines. They were on their own. They took some serious casualties. Someone made a movie about it once. The movie was called A Bridge Too Far. I think. Anyway, he was one of the guys you got sent to see when you screwed up and got in trouble. I knew him quite well. I remember the day I told him that my future plans involved the Army and airborne school. I told him I wanted to be a Ranger. I remember how he smiled. His mouth smiled but the rest of his face stayed stone cold. He told me I had better start doing some push-ups. He told me I'd better start running every day. I told him that I was in good shape. He agreed. He said I was in good shape, for a civilian. He told me that I'd better start getting mentally tough as well. He smiled again. That stone face smile. He just said good luck with that and sent me out of his office without any disciplinary action taken for whatever infraction it was that landed me there in the first place.

My own father and his older brother served. Other than anecdotal stories they never talked about it either. Ever.

Hey Tommy. It's been a while I know. My wife is doing okay I guess. Well, as okay as one can expect. We had a big argument yesterday. I wrote all this stuff about December 7th because I don't want to deal with the reality. I still don't want to so I won't. I will say this Tommy. I have a lot of work to do. I said some really stupid things yesterday. My biggest mistake was saying anything at all. Whenever I try to say what I think or feel, it's always a lame attempt at defending myself. It always comes out wrong. I just don't have what it takes to be a vocal person. Not when it comes to real stuff anyway. I can shoot the shit all day long about nothing. When it comes to real stuff I'm just better off keeping my mouth shut. You know what I mean Tommy.

Home Three.

2008-11-30T08:16:00.002-05:00

They returned home yesterday. Arrived about 1730. I was so glad to see them. I was so glad to hug the baby girls. I was so glad to hug my wife.

They had a good time. They went to The City on Friday as planned. Family members in Jersey insisted that they take the bus and the subway to avoid traffic and parking. Traffic and parking on a Friday in November in Chinatown?

They should have driven in. They should have taken the Holland Tunnel. They would have been in Chinatown from the grandfather's house in about twenty or thirty minutes. They probably wasted two hours with the bus and The Port Authority. Time that could have been spent enjoying Downtown.

The younger baby girl was exposed to some not so nice stuff on the subway. That makes me mad. They missed the bus on the way back out. They had to wait over an hour for the next bus. The whole thing was stupid and if I'd been there it would not have happened. My wife said they walked passed dozens of open parking spots right on the street. I said I know.

The bus and the trains are great, sometimes. Sometimes it's just better to drive.
My wife did not need to be running to try to catch a bus while keeping a close eye on the younger baby girl. The older baby girl too, but she's a little more street smart. She's just been around longer. My wife is recovering from chemo. She's been in better shape. It just makes me mad. People don't think sometimes.

On the subway they had crazy junkies and street people doin' the panhandle thing. I would have made them go away.

I remember this one time, before I met my wife. A bunch of us cops were going to Yankee Stadium. We were all in this old van that one of the guys had. So we were up in the Bronx stuck in traffic. These street thugs were harassing the motorists, looking for handouts. I'm not talking about homeless people or cripples, the kind of folks you want to help out. I'm talkin' about street thugs. Young guys taking advantage of the situation to intimidate those stalled in traffic.

As the group of six punks approached us we were ready for them. As soon as they banged on the passenger side of the van, the sliding door flew open and four of us stuck guns in their faces. You want to see six assholes go from "bad" to "oh shit" in about two seconds. None of us had our badges out. Just pistols as we jumped out of the van to confront the assholes. They backed away rather quickly. A couple of them had hands in the air as they turned on their heels and literally ran back down the block. The car behind us honked their horn and applauded. The woman in the passenger seat yelling thanks as we stuffed our sidearms back under our shirts.

So we hung out for a few minutes on the sidewalk 'til the traffic started moving again. Those guys didn't come back.

Three Days.

2008-11-28T20:17:00.002-05:00

It's Friday night and I now have three days off. The outfit I work for gives us all off on Opening Day of buck season. I had an easy trip today. I was done in eight hours. Got home about 1445. I took the dogs out. I heated up some leftover chicken parm that my wife made before they went to Jersey. I promptly fell asleep on the couch.

Beetus called at 1905. Good thing he woke me up. I put some coffee on and took the dogs out again before I called him back. We had some laughs on the phone. Me and Beetus did. He had to go because he needed his shot. He takes insulin for diabetes. He said he was getting like a hot flash. I said, must be menopause.
He said no. He said that happens every now and then. He hasn't exactly been paying attention to his diet like he should. Thanksgiving will do that. He was trying to describe this hot flash thing. I said I've seen the chemo do that to my wife. I said the tamoxifen she'll be taking soon will do that too. He said there was a time when he would have paid to get that feeling. We both laughed. Beetus is a funny guy.

I'm slamming some coffee right now. Then I really have to start cleaning this house. It's not very messy but I want it all clean. My wife and the baby girls will be returning from Jersey some time late tomorrow afternoon. I want to cook something so they can all eat when they get home. I want to cook something they will all like. I'll have to give that some thought. I can go to the grocery store at first light.

Maybe just a little more writing on Fiction Squared. We'll have to see. First some cleaning and chores. I'd rather write. First things first I guess. Sometimes
I hate being responsible. Goes against my nature. It does make life easier. Being responsible that is. It's just not as much fun.

I have to go. Somebody stepped on a duck. No really. The dogs have this toy. It's a duck that quacks when you squeeze it, or step on it.

Broil London; 1

2008-11-27T09:50:00.003-05:00

Happy Thanksgiving to all.

Logged a lot of miles this week. Produce and meat in the ice and snow on Monday. Took me forty minutes to get from 111 to 120 on I-80 eastbound. Trailer wheels slipped a little. A driver behind me came over the radio. He said we should take it easy. He said we should just get down off the hill in one piece. It's a big hill. At the top reads a sign. Highest point on 80 east of the Mississippi.

Tuesday was Pittsburgh. Snowing down there too. Crossed the Highland Park Bridge three times again. Six stops starting at 0500. Finished up at 1530. Two hours overtime. I like overtime.

Yesterday was produce and meat plus. It's a holiday schedule this week. Everything is subject to change. Got called in two hours earlier than usual for a produce run. Finished up at 1930 hours last night. More overtime.

When I got home they were gone.

My wife and the baby girls went to Jersey to spend Thanksgiving with her father, her sister and her father's girlfriend. They took the older baby girl's car. I have to stay here because I have to work on Friday. I also have to take care of four dogs and two birds.

I will be grilling in the snow today. The sun is out. I'll have to knock the snow off the top of the grill. I have a London Broil. I took it out of the freezer last night. I have some Romain lettuce, onions and a tomato. I also have a six-pack of Molson's in the fridge. Life is good.

I don't mind being alone on Thanksgiving. I'm not really alone. Four dogs and two birds. I miss my family very much. I do know that they are having a real good time. It's good for them. It's good for the girls to spend this time with their mother. It's good for her to spend this time with her family. She needs this.

I think I'm going to write today. The dogs are content, having all been given some outside time and lots of food. The birds are pretty happy too. I've got The Parrot "stepped up" on his perch. The Love Bird is............OOPS!

The Love Bird's cage is uncovered. He's now happily chirping away with fresh food and water. The younger baby girl's Betta fish has been fed as per her written instructions.

When I was up at the "big cooler" on Monday I got a call on my Trac-Fone. The "big cooler" is the perishables facility that the outfit I work for owns. It's about two miles from The Dock. Anyway, it was The Gifted Program Coordinator calling me. We received a notice from the school to schedule a meeting with her sometime in December. It's an annual thing. They need you to sign off on a form that allows your gifted kid to stay in The Gifted Program.

So The Gifted Coordinator tells me we don't have to have the meeting unless we feel like we need to discuss something. She said she could just send the form home and we can sign and return it. I said that's fine. I said that my wife and I know that the younger baby girl is doing well. The Gifted Coordinator starts going on about how well she is doing. The gifted Coordinator tells me that the younger baby girl is her smartest student. She said that the younger baby girl is so far ahead of the other kids, the other gifted kids, that it amazes her. The gifted Coordinator that is.

The Gifted Coordinator said that the younger baby girl is really patient and kind. The Gifted Coordinator said the younger baby girl's circle of friends is a good one. That's something that we know. She does run with a good crew.

If it sounds like I'm bragging. I am. Our girls are our treasures.

So after The Gifted Coordinator is done gushing about how great the younger baby girl is, I ask her this. Can you teach little Miss Einstein to put the phones back on their respective chargers? Can you teach her to put her clean clothes away and pick up her room?

Okay. I don't really ask The Gifted Coordinator those things. I just say thank you very much. I promise to call her if my wife and I feel like we need to. I tell her I don't think we need to because the younger baby girl is doing just fine. The Gifted Coordinator agrees.

I'm going to slide my feet into my slick soled work boots and put on my old Carhardt jacket. I'm going to step out back on the patio and smoke a freshly rolled cigarette. I really do need to get a new pair of boots. No traction left at all on my current pair. That sucks when you have to two-wheel down a ramp from the back of a straight truck. One day about a week ago I slid down a truck ramp with a loaded two-wheeler out in front of me. I didn't lose it. I do need to get myself some new boots.

Coffee and a smoke.

I know I have to quit smoking. My wife and I have discussed it. She will tell me when. She quit already. The whole cancer thing. Smoking does not cause breast cancer. The experts have told us that. Anyone who thinks it does is an idiot. It does not change the fact that she had to quit. The only reason I have not quit yet is because we did that before. We both quit together and it was terrible. We were at each other. I ended up staying at a friends house for a few days. That's how bad it was. This time will be different. When her stress levels have gone down enough, then she will tell me it's time. I'll get the gum.

I'm really going to miss smoking. Maybe one day I'll be able to enjoy a good cigar. I always like a good cigar. I never inhaled a good cigar. It ruins it if you inhale. One of my best memories is enjoying a real Cuban with several cups of black coffee. It was on the deck behind my friends house. We were partners when we were both cops. We went to the academy together. After we put in our rookie time they let us ride together. We worked well as a team.

That Cuban and coffee time came after a real bad night at work. A baby had died. It's never good. No matter how much experience you have. It's never good. A little part of your humanity fades away. I had two of those calls in my time on the job. When you're a cop you're expected to fix the problem. To save the baby. It don't always work out that way.

So that Cuban and coffee time was one of the best not because of what happened the night before. It was the best because of how it helped so very much the day after. We just sat there on his little deck. We didn't talk. We just enjoyed. I know it sounds strange. I can't put it into the right words. It was better than the first time I had a D.O.A. baby call. This is getting too messed up. I'm afraid that someone who reads this will not understand.

If anyone who reads this has lost a child. Or anything like that. Or knows someone who did. I am so very sorry.

Time for me to suck it up. I have my treasures. I can't imagine losing them. I have no reason to..............Oh God why do these things have to happen.

I am so very thankful for my wife and beautiful girls.

Hey Tommy. I'm going to try to right some fiction on my fiction blog. I do mean right. At least on paper you can right some wrongs when you write.......

Overnight.

2008-11-20T17:33:00.003-05:00

Don't know what it is about that overnight Pittsburgh run. Had that trip last night for the first time in two weeks. I finished up at 1430 hours on Wednesday afternoon. I hung out with my wife for a couple hours. Did some sanding on the staircase. Showered and went to sleep at 1800.

I woke up at 2200. I made some cigarettes and filled my Thermos with coffee. My wife had already made my lunch. She's the best. I left for work around 2345.

After warming up my truck, kicking the tires and making sure there was a pallet jack in the trailer, I pulled away from The Dock at about 0015.

Route 28 southbound. I was lost in diesel driving dreams by the time I was passing exit 17. I don't have a get off 'til exit 8.

I think I write when I drive. In my head. Sometimes it's a song on the radio that gets it started. I usually listen to WDVE on the overnight. Last night they played some Zappa. The one about being a dental floss farmer in Montana. That will get your Writing Jones all fired up.

I saw Frank Zappa once. It was in New York and I was maybe fifteen or sixteen years old. I think it was Poughkeepsie. We took a bus and stayed with some cousins of a friend of mine. What a show. After the concert a bunch of us were hanging out in this park near the place we were all staying. The cops showed up and we all ran. That's what you did when the cops showed up. I remember running next to this girl. She had pretty red hair and I had tried to talk to her earlier in the evening. She didn't seem like she wanted to talk to me. Once we were running from the cops that changed. Now she was scared. I wasn't scared. I'd run from the cops before. I'd run from Jersey cops. And back in the seventies if you ran from Jersey cops you better make sure you got away.

So me and this girl run in a different direction from the rest of the group. One thing I knew about running from the cops was that it's better to split up. I had a feeling that the cops were more interested in chasing us out of the park than actually catching us.

(Years later when I was a cop myself, I found out how right I was that night in Poughkeepsie. Sometimes you just want to make people go away so you can have a quiet night in your zone.)

So it turns out that this girl's parents were on vacation. It turns out that her older brother who was supposed to be watching the house had gone fishing up in Vermont with some friends. It turns out that this nice looking seventeen year old red head had the house to herself. She was happy that I had stayed with her and helped her get away from the cops. I ended up staying with her for almost a week, even after her brother got back from fishing.

Yeah, so back to the overnight trip to Pittsburgh last night. I heard Frank Zappa on the radio. Like Robbie Robertson said, it was "sure stirrin' up some ghosts for me." That's what often feeds my Writing Jones. The Stirring. Good ghosts and bad ghosts. Take something real, like the Infamous Poughkeepsie Concert Trip and make something out of it........I really need to start writing again. And this time I think I know how to do it right.

I guess I've always had a thing for redheads.

Hey Tommy. Yeah, she has her last chemo infusion tomorrow. She's been getting sicker and sicker as the chemo builds up in her system. It's going to get worse before it gets better. Keep 'em up brother.

"I'd Like To Go For A Walk".

2008-11-16T08:06:00.006-05:00

So it turns out that his turn for the worse was not. The abdominal pain that the docs said was cancer returning was caused by a urinary tract infection. It was the sudden high fever and some other stuff that gave them the clue. It was a hospice nurse who put two and two together. She came up with four. The docs sum total was five. The docs were wrong.

So my father was not standing with one foot on the banana peel. He is up and moving about for a few hours each day. He is talking politics. He is driving my mother crazy because he can't stand not being in charge anymore. He is on his way out. He is under hospice care. The massive doses of antibiotics just bought him some more time. He's digging that.

He's kind of like the old guy in Monty Python's Holy Grail. The one they want to put on the cart while he's still alive. The only difference is this. My father is holding the club.

Hey Tommy. It's been a while. Man what a couple of weeks I've had. I saw an elk the other day. Up on route 255 near the 555 split in Elk County, go figure. This big guy was munching on foliage by the side of the road. Steam would snort from his nostrils with each breath. It was kind of early, like 0630. I slowed down to get a look at him. The Jake Brake in my truck was doing it's thing, making that noise that it makes. That elk just looked over at my passing big truck with no interest at all. I have to find out how these elk ended up here in Pennsylvania.
I don't think their from here originally.

Hey Tommy. I just looked it up. As far as I can tell the elk are from here. Elk County is the only place any of them are left.

Close. Real Close.

2008-11-09T01:31:00.004-05:00

My father is almost dead. It's been coming for some time. He's been ill. The grumpy old WWII vet is nearing the end of his more than eight decade run. I have to go see him next week. I hope he's still there.

My sister said he sings a lot these days. Old songs from the thirties and forties. Songs she does not always recognize. My sister thinks he sings because he's scared. I think she's right. It never seemed to me like he was scared of anything.

Like I've said before. Things were never very Cleaver at my house. My father drank and was often abusive. My sisters put up with a lot of verbal crap. I took most of the beatings. I put a stop to that when I was fourteen with a length of hardwood and a lot of determination. We didn't talk very much for about four years after that.

My father had a friend who was declared 4-F for medical reasons at the start of WWII. When my father left home at seventeen to serve his country, his friend's parents gave my father an old silver dollar. It was minted in the 1890's. It was a good luck charm. My father gave me that silver dollar when I enlisted.

He finally got sober when I was twenty-five.

He has lived a sober life for the last twenty-one years. He has gone out of his way to help others do the same. Giving guys rides to meetings. Standing by the phone. Helping out as much as he can. He has not been able to attend any meetings or help anyone out for over a year now. He has not been able to get out of bed for the last six weeks.

He deals with the pain. He will not take any pain killers. He wants to feel it all, even the worst of it. They have to give him small doses of morphine in pill form at night so he can sleep. They don't tell him what it is or he won't take it. They have to make the doses very light because he's down to less than one hundred and twenty pounds now.

My parents still do not know that my wife is fighting cancer. We don't want them to know. They have enough to deal with right now.

My father is not a happy person. I don't think he had much of a childhood. His father hung himself at a very young age. My father worked delivering papers, giving all but a nickel a week to his mother during the Depression. I know they went back to Denmark for a time. They came back here again. The war came next. Hard to imagine when you really think about it.

Maybe he will have some peace. Maybe God will grant him that. Just a little bit before he dies. He tells my sister that he goes for a walk every night. It's in his dreams but it's real to him. Maybe that's his peace. All I know is I have to see him one more time before he goes. I have to do that for me. I guess maybe a little bit for him as well. I just have something I need to say.

I'll know what it is when I get there.

No Myrtle No More.

2008-10-23T16:06:00.002-05:00

So the 1981 BMW 320i that I've been so very proud of is gone. We called her Myrtle. She was purchased brand new from a dealership in Myrtle Beach. We have the original paper work. I had to take her off the road a few months back. The gas tank was leaking up at the top. Other problems with her too. The registration expired in September. I kept her insured because we don't have a garage. The minimum liability was not that expensive.

I had her parked out back. In our driveway, just off the alley. I got a notice from the Code Enforcement people. It came in the mail last Saturday. It was a warning. The notice said they would give me ten days to get her registered, inspected and running. Or rid of her.

My wife and I were planning on restoring her one day. That's not why we bought her. We bought her 'cause she was affordable. Good cheap transportation. I got about four years out her. I had very little money in her. The gas tank issue was something that needed to be addressed in order to operate her safely. We just don't have the money for that sort of thing right now. With a daughter in college and my wife having cancer. Restoring old cars is not a priority.

I work with this guy who runs a used car business with his father on the side. They swung by here with the flatbed on Sunday afternoon and pulled her over to their shop. They will do what they can. They might know a guy who can part her out. They might get her running and sell her. They might just scrap her for three bucks a pound. The price of scrap is way down lately. It was as high as nine bucks a pound a few months back. No matter what they decide to do, I'll see a couple bucks out of the deal.

So next week is our fifteenth wedding anniversary. We are going out for a nice dinner one night during the week. We were going to wait 'til the weekend but my wife has chemo on Friday. She won't be in the mood for our favorite Italian place after chemo. We realized that it's been well over a year since we've really gone out anywhere. Like on a date gone out. It's been longer than that since we've been to our favorite Italian restaurant. The younger baby girl will be joining us for our anniversary dinner. Her big sister is away and we are not going to leave her home or drop her at a friend's house. She's part of this fifteen years. She's almost thirteen of them.

It's sad. The younger baby girl really likes that old BMW. She loved the sunroof.
She had a stuffed duck that she named Jake sitting in the back window. I made sure she got her duck back.

Heard Jackson Brown last night on the radio. WDVE at about 0200 on my overnight Pittsburgh run. The Pretender. What a good song.

I know it's not the car that's making me cry right now. It's everything. I'm very tired.

Coffee time for this Happy Idiot. Pick up the Struggle again tomorrow.

Rough. Ruff.

2008-10-17T18:58:00.004-05:00

I have that other blog. FictionSquared.blogspot.com......I have not written anything on that blog since 20OCT07. I wrote something on there tonight. I would put a link to it on this page, if I could remember how to do that. It's on my profile page. The link is on my profile.........I like to write........I'm going to make a real effort to write more often. To work on the fiction thing........Anyway. It's all rough stuff, with no edits. No re-writes. No re-reads. It's rough and the dogs are barking. I have to go see what they are barking at.

Caution Crossing.

2008-10-16T14:29:00.002-05:00

Why are the Cautions crossing? What do the Cautions look like?......So I can keep an eye out for them when they cross.

This morning when I got home from that overnight Pittsburgh run, my wife said that the Kool-Aid chemo was actually better than this New chemo. She said the Kool-Aid chemo made her sicker. She said the side effects were far worse. She said the difference is this. With the Kool-Aid chemo, she knew when it was over. With this New chemo, it comes and goes in waves. It changes all the time. She never knows how she'll feel one minute to the next.

This past weekend she was up on the eight-foot step ladder sealing up first floor windows while I did yard work. Today she's crashed. She hit the wall and crashed in the Pooh chair. We have this chair that sort of looks like the color of Winnie The Pooh. Not really but it's close. We call it the Pooh chair.

Had a stop I've never had before on last night's trip. Naser's in Apollo. It's at the end of the Apollo bridge, right on the bend on the left hand side. That's if you're coming out on 56 east through Vandergrift like I was. It's a tight squeeze into that loading dock. You have to drive your semi in between the grocery store and a beer store. You have to jack your trailer into this very old and narrow dock.

When I got there I didn't see or hear anyone. The sometimes vehicles crossing the Apollo bridge out front were all that could be heard. Not a sound came from the store. The garage type door was unlocked so I entered the store after ringing the loading dock bell a few times with no response. The lights were all on. I walked through the back of the store from the loading dock area as quietly as I could. I didn't just walk in shouting hello immediately.

This slightly paranoid ex-cop from Jersey is now thinking that something must have happened. You don't just walk into an open and empty supermarket at five in the morning, find no one, and assume everything is okay. It could be anything. The overnight person could be sick, and or incapacitated due to injury or even a heart attack. Worse case scenario is of course the obvious robbery. The perps could have the store people stifled at gunpoint when the truck driver shows up to make the delivery. So like I was saying. I don't just go barging through the store making my exact position known to all.

I proceed with due caution. Carefully approaching the end of each aisle. Stopping for a second to listen and look at the floor for changes in light patterns. I do this before dropping to one knee and taking a quick peek down the aisle. I listen for a second again. I check six, or look behind me, then move to the end of the next aisle. Third aisle down I see a mop and bucket standing just about ten feet down. I hear something just then. I quickly and quietly back track to the loading dock area. I very quietly pass through the swinging doors that mark the border between the store and the Employees Only back rooms. Through the dock door and out to my big truck. I retrieve my phone from the cab. For a second I wish I had a Glock. Then I saw him.

His name is Dennis and he works at the store. Turns out he was upstairs taking care of his overnight cleaning detail in the bakery/deli area. I didn't know they had an upstairs. It seems the unlocked garage type door on the loading dock was an oversight. It turns out that this is not the type of area where that would pose a problem. All is well at the grocery store. No one knows about my paranoid reaction. I'm not planning on sharing that with anyone either. Given the same set of circumstances, I'd do it the same way again. Old habits die hard.

I heard Molly Hatchet, Flirtin' With Disaster on the radio on my way down 28 earlier in the shift. They followed it up with The Beatles, Yesterday. The Georgia Satellites rounded out the set. Keep Your Hands To Yourself. There really was no obvious bridge between them. It kind of works though. If you think about it.

Man made moon glow sparkles on the highway.
Franky said; I got to do it my way.
Drive on troop. It's almost Friday.
Got to have a beer.

Radio Free Beetus.

2008-10-10T21:10:00.004-05:00

A couple years ago I wrote something about my friend Beetus. That's not his real name. We just always called him that. It was a post about flying the Shelby.

Me and Beetus, we go way back. Known each other since we were kids. We even worked at the same gas station where we grew up in Jersey. The guys who owned the gas station called me Gustav. That's not my real name. They just always called me that. They would drag it all out so it sounded like this. "GGOOOOOOOSTAAAAAAAV"!!!

They had a name for Beetus too. They called him The Flying Chap. It was cautionary in nature. Like when we had to take the old International Scout out to jump start some customers car. "Oh God son. Don't let him drive, he's The Flying Chap"!

So Beetus lives far away now. Me and Beetus are still tight. last week Beetus decided to buy me a CB radio that I can use at work. Since I now drive big trucks for a living, it was a very useful gift.

Beetus didn't buy me a CB radio out of the blue. It's something I've been meaning to do. The truck I usually drive has a broken old radio in it. It worked at one time. Now it's down for the count. That old radio has broadcast it's last ten-four. Not that it matters, but just for the record. I don't say ten-four on the CB radio. I find myself saying roger, received, okay or just 'kay. When I was a cop we said received. Some departments say ten-four. We just said received.

I'm going to drink some coffee and have a cigarette. I'm really not sure where this is going. I guess I'll find out when I get there. I do know that I will be traveling across waves of caffeine. Through smokey blue clouds of nicotine that will drift up from my back porch, rolling under the edge of the overhang only to ascend towards the heavens. My gift to the stars. My second hand smoke for the gods.

I'm back. That's better.

So Beetus orders the radio and antennae in a slip-seat set up. I can hook it up in any truck I drive in less than five minutes. It's good to have a CB radio in the big truck. Road conditions, construction delays, Amish buggies on the highway. You can get a good heads up on these things with a CB radio. You have to listen to a lot of nonsense as well. It just goes with the territory I guess. Today I drove with my new radio for the first time. It came U.P.S. here to this drafty old house on Wednesday. I did the overnight Pittsburgh trip Wednesday night for Thursday morning at midnight. Didn't have time to set it all up before I left.

Wednesday night's trip was odd. 102.5 FM, WDVE Pittsburgh was playing a bunch of John Lennon stuff while I was southbound on 28 approaching the city. Seems it would have been John Lennon's birthday. He would have been sixty-eight were it not for that jag off who decided to shoot him. Instant Karma was one of the songs they played. When I first heard Instant Karma, years and years ago, I thought he was saying "Mr. Carter's 'gonna get you....."... I guess I thought he was singing something about President Carter. I'm not even sure if he was still President at the time when I thought that. How's that for screwing up lyrics?

Dyer Maker as I cross the Allegheny River on The Purple Bridge after my first stop in Fox Chapel. "Oh oh oh oh oh oh"... Slowly I climb the long hill towards Oakmont. I caught the lights at the railroad tracks green but I thought they were going to be red so I was downshifting when I should have been getting on it. Fly Like An Eagle while I climb that hill.

Queer As Folk. Some of the houses on the right while me and Steve Miller slowly climb that hill remind me of that TV show. I only saw one episode when it first came out and we had one those free preview weekends for Showtime. Came out. I didn't mean nothin' by that. It seems funny now though. After I read it I mean.

Turn right at the S&T Bank. The traffic light is flashing because it's like 0230 hours and the traffic lights around there just flash that late at night. I go under the highway and over the tracks to wind down the hill as what sounds like an old iron block Harley with a big after market cam and straight pipes warming up comes rolling through the truck cab speakers. Hot For Teacher. Van friggin' Halen. It's worth turning up a little. As I round the last curve on Milltown Road I see the bright neon lights of the used car place that stands next to the Plum/Penn V.F.W. Canteen that's right across from the entrance to the Verona Community Market. I have to turn into that parking lot. I have to follow the ramp to the back of the store and make my second delivery.

Next stop is off 56 in Lower Burell Township. I stay on 56 and head back out towards route 28. First I stop at the Donut Connection. I can swing into the very large lot behind Donut Connection. The lot by the Staples. I walk across the lot and enter the Donut Connection. The Stones are playing in my head and I'm cracking myself up. You Can't Always Get What You Went. You know the line where he says something about meeting a connection. Get it? The Donut Connection.

I was never as tough as I once believed I was. The older I get, the easier that is to face. Don't let the ink on my arms fool you.

My wife had chemo today. Her next one is on Halloween. I screwed that all up in my last post. Her last chemo session will be right around Thanksgiving. So. Only two chemo sessions left. She got a free gift bag at the hospital today. A handmade bag with some cards and other sundries inside. A volunteer group from Pittsburgh put them together for the chemo patients. She was happy. It's nice.

The older baby girl is gone now. Living in the dorms in downtown Pittsburgh. She's home for the weekend. I drove down after work and picked her up, along with all her laundry. It's really good to see her. It's really good to talk to her. It's even better to listen to her talk about all the doings at the college. She loves the city. She's a city girl at heart. I love my daughters.

Thanks for the radio Beetus. Good commo is hard to come by these days.

Overtime.

2008-10-03T17:00:00.002-05:00

Twenty-four hours overtime the last couple of weeks. Ran as far east as Gettysburg to pick up produce. Ran as far north as Fillmore New York on the I.G.A. run. Keep in mind, we run local. We had a couple guys off on vacation. I don't mind picking up the slack.

I got paid today. All that overtime, like five-hundred bucks worth of overtime in addition to my straight forty hours. They took almost four-hundred out in taxes.

My wife started the "new" type of chemo last Friday. She reacts to it differently than the "old" chemo. This chemo drips into her port slowly. The "old" type was injected. Her time in the chemo room at the hospital is longer now. She was pretty sick last weekend. She's feeling better now. She only has three more chemo treatments left. The next one is on Halloween. She's bummed about that.

So this past Thursday I had the overnight Pittsburgh run. Fox Chapel and two stops in Verona. One more stop up on route 85 on the way back. I left at midnight, Wednesday night for Thursday morning. On the way down 28 all I wanted to hear was some good driving music. The Silver Bullet comes over the radio with "The Fire Down Below". I cranked that up, took a big pull from my large stainless steel coffee cup and fired up a cigarette. 475 Cat horses sitting out in front of me. Fifty-three feet of Reefer following along behind. Bob Segar blasting out of the speakers and no traffic in sight. Now we're truck driving. Now we can just think about driving. No cancer. No politics. No bullshit. Good tunes all the way to Pittsburgh. Yeah.

Hey Tommy. I got some very nice comments about all that political stuff. I just can't put them up here because I don't want to do that anymore. You know how I get. I get all fired up about something that has nothin' to do with what I'm all fired up about. That's why I have to leave this stuff alone. I'm votin' Tommy. I am votin'. I just ain't discussing it with anybody anymore.

Bad Idea.

2008-09-20T20:02:00.002-05:00

That previous post was a bad idea. I may have severed a friendship. Ranting about politics is not worth a friendship.

I should have listened to my grandmother. Never discuss politics or religion.

I should have listened to myself. This is not a political blog.

I should have listened to my friend who was only trying to have a civil conversation about the whole thing. Now I'm that person that I was ranting about. Someone wants to discuss the issues and I shouted back at them.

I will never write about political stuff again. I'm really not very good at it.

Politics is not worth a friendship.

Vote.

2008-09-14T11:06:00.003-05:00

I got an e-mail from a friend. My friend does not want me to vote for Obama. My friend said that redistribution of wealth never works. My reply is this.

For the last eight years this country has been redistributing the wealth. From the bottom up. All of our money goes to the oil companies and other countries. Countries like China and India. Countries like Saudi Arabia. I'm sure they have our best interests at heart. Our president walks hand in hand with Saudi royals while they refuse to increase oil production. Our military forces protect their sandy asses from Syria and Iran.

We are on our knees, handing our hard earned dollars up to Exxon/Mobil and Halliburton. They send our jobs over seas so that they can line their pockets with more than they already have.

My friends and I are hard working people. We don't ask for something for nothing. We will do what we have to do to take care of our own. We just want an even playing field.

Why do we have to bail out these failed banks and mortgage companies? Oh yeah, that's right. China asked us to do that to protect their investments. Well, we sure don't want to offend China while they run over their own people with tanks. And when we do have to bail those failed banks out, why are the people who ran them into the ground still driving around in their shiny expensive cars? If they ran these banks into the ground then they should be flat broke like the rest of us. Why are they being rewarded for their failure? And if they did violate the law to line their own pockets like the people at Enron did, why are they not sitting in real prisons like the criminals that they are? If you threw a couple of these corporate thieves into a real federal prison I think that would put a stop to much of this "white collar crime". Imagine some country club asshole having to deal with the bikers and the gang bangers and the mob guys on a daily bases.

Hell yeah I'm angry. I'm fed up with the Republican party and all of their dirty tricks. I voted Republican for most of my life, 'til 2004. I despise The Patriot Act. Even the name sounds bad. I am afraid of Homeland Security, as an entity not a practice. I have had enough of the lies. I have had enough of Karl Rove and all the other limp wristed do nothings with soft hands who love to tell us how tough we need to be. How many push-ups do you think old Karl has ever done in his life? He is a lying sack. He plays dirty and now he's supporting John McCain. That's reason enough not to vote for McCain.

This is not a political blog. I do not think I have all the answers. I don't have any of the answers. I'm just an ex-cop who ended up driving a truck for a living. I have been a blue collar guy all my life. I always believed that if you worked hard you'd be okay. That ain't the case anymore.

I'm also sick and tired of the whole sixties generation thing. The aging hippies need to go away. The guys who want to win in Iraq to make up for Vietnam, like John McCain, need to go away. I have nothing but the up most respect and admiration for Senator McCain and his service to this country. But it's time for him to step aside. He is no longer The Maverick. He has become an RNC team player because he wants to win so badly. He knows that Senator Obama is not a Muslim acting like a secret agent in order to bring about the downfall of these United States. But he lets his trolls put that out there. That's just wrong.

I'm pissed off. The only real way I can express that is at the voting booth. So I'm voting for Senator Obama.

Bear. Bare. Grin?

2008-08-27T11:53:00.005-05:00

I started this post back on 27 August. It's now 14 September and I'm going to try to finish it up today. I've been busy of late.

This guy I work with. He's a big bear of a man. He has a loud hardy laugh. He always greets you with a smile. From what I'm told, at one time he was a mean drunk. He had a temper and the fists to back it up.

They say his wife changed him. He stopped drinking and went to church. Without the booze his temper was tempered. He did so love his wife. She died about six years ago.

He raised the kids, the youngest was twelve or thirteen when their mom passed away. That youngest boy is now done with high school. His oldest is a daughter who just had her first baby. The Bear is now a Granpa.

My wife is very sick these days. She really looks a cancer patient now. She has to take antibiotics because she has a runny nose. Her immune system is compromised. The chemo does that.

On Friday, 12 September, she had an Echocardiogram instead of chemo. She goes back for more chemo next Friday. She thought she would feel a little better, missing a week of chemo. She actually feels worse than ever.

I'm still working on this front hall. I'm trimming now. The ceiling is done, tongue and groove. It looks good. She's crashed out on the couch this morning. We watched SNL last night. I feel asleep in the chair, she on the couch.

Last night we partied. I went to the store and got a shrimp ring, mozz sticks, wings, bagel bite little pizzas and mini corn dogs. Onion rings and two big bottles of Dr. Pepper.

My wife and the younger baby girl and me, we had what my wife calls "Greasy Grill" night. It was fun. Paying for it today. A junk food hangover. The younger baby girl is not affected by this.

She cries more these days. She is tired of being sick. She's upset about not being able to work. She's upset about the older baby girl going off to college. She's upset about having to endure three more months of chemo.

Hey Tommy. Yeah man, it's all like that. It's like that every day now. What about you Tommy? What's it all about for you?.....................Hey, she was at the mall on Friday night with the older baby girl. They were both saying how people were staring at her. In the past, with just the hair missing she didn't draw so much attention. Now she really looks sick. No amount of makeup will hide it. People just kept staring. That sucks.

Yeah, she heard this thing on the radio so she looked it up and read an article about it. It was about the governor of Alaska and how she was laughing with these radio show idiots who were making fun of some political type up there. They said that this person was "a cancer". They laughed and the governor laughed with them. This person is a cancer survivor. My wife heard that and she got very angry. She said she hopes that they get cancer. I have never heard her say anything like that before.

Hey Tommy, what about it? Why are some people just so fuckin' stupid.....

Coffee.

2008-08-25T07:41:00.006-05:00

I was thinking about something. I try to avoid thinking when I can. It usually turns out not so good. When I think that is.

I'm working second shift this week. Four to midnight. It started yesterday at 0500. I'm covering for a guy on vacation. He works Sunday through Thursday. Starts at 0500 on Sunday then 4 to 12 the rest of the week. Right now I'm going to go outside and have coffee and a cigarette.

I had two cigarettes. It was a big cup of coffee.

This is not a political blog. I'm really bothered by the Olympics in China. I'm glad it's over. When I was eighteen President Carter declared that boycott of the Olympics in Moscow because the Soviets invaded Afghanistan. I thought that was a good idea. I don't understand why we now have to support China while they continue to abuse their own people, pollute the planet, poison our dogs and children with their tainted products, and take all of our jobs away from us. It just bothers me. I think it has more to do with money than anything else. I'm brilliant. I figured that all on my own. American business puts greed before what's right for this country.

A few months back Senator Obama said he would send troops into Pakistan to get Bin Laden if he knew for a fact that he was there. He was criticized for saying that. I want to know why. Why shouldn't we do what we have to do? Why do we worry so very much about annoying Pakistan? What do we care what Pakistan thinks? If Pakistan won't do the right thing then we need to do it for ourselves.

I am so sure that our country has within the ranks of our military more than a few really tough people who could get that job done.

I've been thinking about Senator McCain. He's a guy I've always respected. I don't respect him as much these days. I don't mean to sound disrespectful. I still respect his service to this country. I still think he's a good guy on so many levels. I don't know him personally, I'm talking about publicly. You know what I mean. I will say this. I would not want to tangle with John McCain, like in a bar fight or something. I don't care if he's seventy-two. I think he's probably a very tough man. I also think that if he does not win the election he will stand up and support the President. I don't think he will be petty and selfish about it. I don't think he'll act like the Clintons have acted towards Obama.

I think that it's time to take it away from the whole sixties generation. I'm tired of all of it. I also think that if Senator Obama wins it will really annoy the crap out of so many people. I really like that idea. I should say that I also really like the thought of Obama losing, and how that would annoy the crap out of so many other people. Blogger spell check keeps telling me that I'm spelling Obama wrong. His name keeps coming up in bright yellow highlights. I think that's a sign.

So I've been thinking. I've made up my mind and I'm going to vote for Senator Obama for President..........Wow. Better alert the press. Some idiot with a blog just endorsed Senator Obama for President.......See what I mean about thinking?

Hey Tommy. I know, it's stupid. But I didn't say cancer or chemo even one time.........
Damn!

Yeah. It's time for more coffee.

Like It Is.

2008-08-24T15:16:00.002-05:00

It's like this. I've been out in the shade once or twice. Bent the rules. Snapped the rules in half. I do not judge people. At least I try real hard not to judge other people. When a guy like John Edwards holds himself out to the rest of us as some kind blue collar hero who swept the floors at the mill and went on to college so that he could reach back and lift us all up where we belong. When a guy like John Edwards turns out to be just another slick player who should at least give us a reach around if he can't reach back. Well, that just pisses me off.

The nurses who work in "The Chemo Room" call it Kool-Aid. They call the chemo Kool-Aid. My wife can't drink any red juice. She can't eat red yogurt. Strawberry was her favorite, the kind with the fruit on the bottom. Red is the color of the chemo that is injected into the port on the front of her right shoulder. The syringe looks like a turkey baster with a six-penny nail on the end. They shoot the Kool-Aid into her with that.

I knew this guy once. He was one of the cops I worked with. He cheated on his wife a lot. He was pathological about it. He was a serial cheater. His wife was so nice. She was pretty and sweet. She was the mother of this guy's children. What a surprise, a cop who cheats on his wife. I never really liked that guy. It had less to do with him cheating on his wife, it was more like, you just knew you couldn't trust him. He was the guy who would give you up in a second to save his own ass.

My wife is crashing right now. You really can't call it sleeping. It's a crash. Her hair fell out weeks ago. Her eyelashes started falling out shortly after that. Her eyebrows are going now. Our younger daughter called them "eyebrellas" when she was little.

I knew this other guy. He was a cop too. He cheated on his wife once. She found out about it and swung a golf club up and into his groin. I bet that hurt. He was so worried that she'd do it again that he had his two brothers go with him to move his stuff out of the house. His grandmother was going to rent him an apartment in the three-family house that she owned. When his grandmother found out why his wife had cracked him in the nards with a golf club and thrown him out of the house, she said he couldn't live in her building. When he told me about the whole situation I laughed. He had it coming to him and he knew it. I still trusted him.

On TV and in the movies they always show the chemo patient hooked to an IV. In my wife's case the IV comes before the chemo. It's the IV that takes the longest, up to an hour or more. There is no chemo in that IV. That IV has four different types of anti-chemo-symptom type drugs on board. The chemo, or Kool-Aid in a turkey baster comes last. At least that's how it is in my wife's case. Everybody is different. Everybody receives different treatment and it all depends on any number of variables.

It's like this. I am not some kind flawless character. I've got flaws as big as the friggin' Grand Canyon in some places. I can say that I have never harmed anyone who didn't really have it coming to them, like self defense. I can also say that I've never played those kind of games, like those guys I was telling you about. Or like John Edwards.

Fewer than five-percent of the more than one hundred thousand woman who are diganosed with breast cancer each year are under forty years old. My wife is thirty-nine. She's a Stage Two at least. It's already been found in her Lymph Nodes and that's not good.

Do Overs.

2008-08-23T10:44:00.003-05:00

I would take that back if I could. That last post, I would take it back. I was feeling sorry for myself and it shows. I won't be riding off any bridges. I wouldn't do that to my girls.

She had chemo again yesterday. The last of this type of chemo. In three weeks she goes in for an Electrocardiogram. Not sure I spelled that right. A week after that she goes back to begin the next round of chemo. It will be a different type of chemo. She will have four chemo sessions, one every three weeks just like this last time.

Monday she has to report for an injection. Friday she has to report for weekly lab work. It's not like she ever gets a break from all this stuff.

I love her more than ever. I respect her strength and drive. She doesn't think she's strong. She is very strong.

John Edwards is an asshole. I'm not judging the guy. I'm just saying how it is.

Untitled.

2008-08-10T15:31:00.002-05:00

My wife said her time here will be shortened. She said even if she comes out of this chemo and beats this cancer, the chemo alone will shorten her time here with us. I did not want to hear that. I told her that if she leaves me alone with the kids and the dogs then I'll make sure the girls get through college and the dogs live as long as they are meant to live. Then I'm going to follow her.

I figure I'll get my hands on an old Shovelhead, maybe some rigid frame bar hopper. I'll ride around the country for a few months. I'll find myself an open ended bridge with a real long drop. I will have to hit some biker bars and scare up a big fat joint because I promised myself years ago that I will get stoned at least one more time before I die.

So I'll smoke that joint and wash it down with an icy cold six-pack of Coor's before I hit that open ended bridge with the throttle buried and those straight pipes screaming.

Now if she leaves us when the girls are older and there are grandchildren involved, well I'll have to stick around for the grandchildren. I'll have to make sure they know all about their grandmother.

Not Coor's Light. Regular Coor's in the yellow cans. Light beer, that would be a sin.

220/99

2008-08-07T20:31:00.002-05:00

If you drive north on Route 220/I99 from Bedford Pennsylvania towards Altoona, you will find yourself on a long downhill stretch around the Inman exit. If you look out your driver side, look out and off to the left you will see a picture as pretty as any painting.

The valley rolls north and south. The hills off to the west. It's something you just have to see. I don't know why that one particular spot seems to have captured me so. I drive through there pulling my fifty-three at least twice a month.

This guy I know at one of the big stores I deliver to in Pittsburgh, his son just enlisted. This guy I know is pretty shaken up about it and I don't blame him. It's times like these, I'm glad I have daughters who show no interest in enlisting.

This guy I know, his kid is going Airborne.

Flat Track. Dirt.

2008-08-03T11:34:00.004-05:00

Went to the races last night. My buddy called and asked me if I wanted to go. The local track is not too far from here. I am not a big NASCAR fan but I do like the flat dirt track racing. It's all local guys, a couple of girls too. They run several different classes at the track. The Late Model Modified class is always the best.

We got there in time to get good seats. We each had a blanket to roll up and sit on. The old school hardwood stadium style benches are not very comfortable. We got some chili dogs, burgers and fries before we settled in to wait for the first heat. We both like to eat before the races start. The good greasy food is better without the gritty taste of flying dirt in the air. If you have ever gone to see dirt track racing you know what I mean.

The sun was setting off to our left in the crystal clear Western Pennsylvania sky. It was a perfect evening for the races. Not too hot and not too humid. We like to sit dead center in the front stretch. The American flag at the top of the racing official's stand where they wave the green and yellow and white and checkered racing flags sits just slightly to our left and about twenty-five yards in front of us.

I looked around at the crowd. I looked at the families who were all together to enjoy this experience. This so very American experience. A moment of silence was called for as we all stood up at the track announcer's request. The moment of silence was for the local volunteer fire department chief who had recently passed away. On the edge of the track stood about twelve members of the fire department, all visibly shaken by this loss. The National Anthem followed.

The announcer asked that hats be removed. I noticed a big biker guy who removed his bandanna from his head with his left hand, slapping his right hand smartly against his chest while he assumed the position of attention. A veteran for sure......America.

After the National Anthem played over the speakers that line the bleachers the announcer made some public service announcements. A Poker Run is to be held in a couple of weeks. The proceeds to benefit a local active duty Green Beret who suffered extensive burns. The poker run is sponsored by a local Nam Vet motorcycle club. The same club is also raising money for the family of a little girl who is suffering from some rare bone disease. The money is to help defray the costs of travel for the family who can't afford the gas to take her to and from her many appointments.....The Beautiful.

The sun began to set, turning the few white clouds a golden orange while the flag continued to wave in the steady breeze that came from the west. The breeze that would help coat all present with dirt and dust from the track once the races began.

The races were good. Lots of action and no one got hurt. For a few hours I was able to think about something other than the cancer that lives inside my wife. The cancer that the Chemo is attacking while it attacks every other living cell in her body. I feel quite fortunate that we do not have to be the recipients of good will, like the Green Beret and the Little Girl. We have good insurance and the money I earn driving the semi combined with my cop pension is seeing us through.

Hey Tommy. That goldfish, Al. He's doing great man. My wife and our younger daughter bought two more little guys to keep him company. We named one of them Mezzo. It's a name from one of the Japanese cartoons our Younger Baby Girl is so fond of. The other new fish I named. I named him Spot.

Swaying Still.

2008-07-10T21:14:00.001-05:00

Sunday, 06 July.

The sun went down and the wind picked up. She opened the front door to let the cool breeze roll through the house. I opened the kitchen door at the back of the house. We turned all the first floor lights off, didn't want to attract moths and other flying night bugs. The front door has a screen, the door at the back of the house did have a sliding screen door at one time. The dogs ran through it one day breaking not only the screen itself but the aluminium frame as well.

I stood by the open door as the rain began. She joined me there in the dark and cool kitchen. The only light we had came from the garden lights outside. The little kitchen radio was on like it always is. Nora Jones was singing something about "come away with me". We held on to each other. It was one of those moments you get every now and then. It was one of those very real moments.

We did not dance because we don't really dance. We just sort of swayed in that cool, dark, sweet rain driven summer breeze.

Hey Tommy. The goldfish died but me and the younger baby girl, we went and got another one. We named the new one Alphonse. We just call him Al.

Goldfish. And A Low White Cell Count.

2008-07-03T17:34:00.003-05:00

We had this goldfish once. He was eleven years old and almost a foot long when he died. My wife got him when she was seventeen. We kept him in the freezer for a few months, after he passed away. We were going to have him mounted. We had no idea that taxidermy was so expensive.

A few months ago we decided to try again. We got a little fish bowl and a little feeder goldfish up at Wal-Mart. Two fish came and went. Our girls went up to Wal-Mart one day and picked the third one out. The fish they picked out jumped from the net when the guy went to scoop him out of the tank. After the fish was retrieved from the polished Wal-Mart floor our girls decided that he was the one.

He's only about an inch, maybe inch and a half long. My wife named him Wardley. He jumped out of the fish bowl onto the table one day. He jumped out of the fish bowl and landed behind the buffet after that. My wife noticed he was missing. No fish in the fish bowl. Our older daughter and my wife found him on the floor behind the buffet. He was dusty but still alive. She decided to name him Tank Wardley. We put aluminium foil with holes poked in it over the bowl, then we decided to buy a small aquarium. Tank Wardley is tough. Tank Wardley just might be the one.

We purchased a five gallon hexagonal shaped aquarium last weekend. It's up and running with it's integral in the lid filter complete with bio-wheel. Tank Wardley still didn't seem like he was doing as well as we had expected. Today I changed all the water out. I changed all the gravel and replaced the filter cartridge. I added an under gravel air stone hooked up to a little air pump that my wife purchased after her weekly labs and blood work this afternoon. I put Tank Wardley back in his new and improved aquatic environment. The water is properly treated to neutralize any chlorine and I let the system cycle for a couple hours before putting him back. He seems to be doing a little better. He has an obvious eye injury from his fall behind the buffet but he ate well. The bubbler seems to be good for him. He seems to be enjoying it.

The hospital called before my wife returned this afternoon. The hospital said her white cell count is very low. It's the chemo that does that. I asked them how low. They said like one point five. I asked them what it should be. They said like fifteen. They said they would treat her if her count was a five. I asked them how do they treat this. They said antibiotics, just in case. They said she should rest. They called in a prescription and I just now returned from picking it up.

Her hair is starting to fall out. A little at a time. She had a handful come out in the shower yesterday. She's noticing more hair than usual in the brush and on her shoulders. She has a nice wig and some other things like scarves and a halo that goes under the scarves or a hat. She's as ready as she can be. She's going to cry when it's time to use the clipper. I know she's going to cry because any woman would cry.

I've had lots of overtime lately. I had this past Monday off with pay because it was my birthday. The outfit I work for does that. They give you your birthday off with pay. I have tomorrow, the Fourth of July off with pay as well. I had a very easy trip today. I was done at 1100 hours. I punched my card and left. The overtime will more than cover the few hours lost. I was going to go to labs with my wife. She told me not to. She told me to take a nap because I needed it. I did need the nap. It was a good nap. She's going through all of this and she tells me to take a nap. My wife is the best.

Hey Tommy. I sure hope that goldfish makes it.

First Time.

2008-06-24T16:29:00.003-05:00

First times. We don't get many of those. First times are often memorable. This Friday past my wife had CHEMO for the first time. (actually two Fridays ago)

Her father drove out from Jersey so he could take her to her first chemo session. He went through it last year, he knows from chemo.

It's strange how they have bonded over this. Chemo shared.

Friday night, when it was all over and I had returned from work we all sat out on the patio. My father-in-law had prepared his world famous potato salad. He also brought a ten pound roll of Taylor Ham and some of the best kielbasi you have ever tasted. The kielbasi is from a Polish butcher down in Garfield, New Jersey.

We fired up the grill. Did I mention that he also brought a twelve pack of beer?

I have to finish this later. My brain don't work so good these days.

Okay. I'm finishing this now. It's Saturday, June 28th and I'm finishing this post.

Hey Tommy. Better late than never, huh bro?

No Reason.

2008-06-18T20:34:00.003-05:00

What a friggin' week this has been. It's only Wednesday. The Mutt got fixed. He wasn't broken but he got fixed. He has a cone. He's pissed off.

My wife had a CAT SCAN and a BONE SCAN today. She had to drink the dye last night and again this morning. She had to drive herself because I had to work. Her father arrives tomorrow afternoon. He will take her to her first Chemo session on Friday. She's sleeping right now. Me and the Baby Girls are cleaning up around here some.

Five hours overtime so far this week. I'll get two more hours O.T. tomorrow. I'm a little tired but that's okay. I cried in the truck today. I was pulling up a big hill in fourth gear. Flashers on, riding in the far right truck lane. I just started crying like a little friggin' idiot for no reason at all. Well, I have reasons. It's just that the truck is not the place to cry.

Of Alpine Trucking and Cancer.

2008-06-12T17:18:00.003-05:00

Can't believe it's been almost a month since I last wrote anything. I have over sixty e-mails in my in box. Been busy. Driving full time now. Pittsburgh runs in the wee hours. Pittsburgh runs during the day. The early morning runs are better. It's quiet. No traffic.

A Johnstown run last week ran on for over fifteen hours. I broke down on 422 and had to wait for three hours. They brought me a different tractor and hauled the first one back to The Dock. I went on from there to make my three stops. After my last stop I had to head down to Roaring Spring and pick up a full load of spring water. Twenty-two pallets, twenty-eight cases per pallet, six gallons per case. That was a heavy load. Low and slow back up the mountain on 220/99 to exit 28. Route 22 west from there.

I'm making good money these days. Better than I was at least. Last check included over three hundred dollars in overtime, plus my straight forty hour rate. This check will be about the same. It's a good thing, the overtime, with my wife unable to work these days. Medical bills are close to a hundred thousand over the last ten months when this all started. The insurance is covering most of it. I have no idea what we'll have to lay out yet. Time will tell I'm sure. I'm really not too worried about that. If I don't have it, they ain't gettin' it.

They installed a port for the chemo in her chest yesterday. It sits more on the front of her right shoulder than on her chest. It hurts her. She's not happy about this. I guess the chemo starts next week some time. We'll find out on Monday. The insurance company said they will pay up to five hundred dollars for a wig but it has to come from a medical supply place. Every medical supply place we have called so far does not carry wigs. The insurance company said that a wig is considered a prosthetic device so it has to come from a medical supplier. How friggin' stupid is that? I guess that's the "Catch-22" for the insurance people.

Six months of chemotherapy. That's what is happening now. Six months. I installed an A/C unit in the living room last weekend. I cut a hole in the wall, framed it out and trimmed it up real nice. At least she can be comfortable, temperature and all. I put one in our bedroom and one in the upstairs bathroom too. The upstairs bathroom in this drafty old house is very large. It was actually a kitchen at one time. We always just had one window unit and we would put it in the guest room. The guest room is an extra room we have, it has no bed but we have air mattresses. Anyway, the girls would crash in there on really hot nights. That unit is now in our room and the girls can crash in the living room if they want to sleep with the air on.

Last night I had the midnight Pittsburgh run. Fox Chapel Community Market is the first stop. After that I follow the river north to the Purple Bridge. Up the hill and turn right at the S&T bank by the flashing light, just across from Oakmont Country Club. Down the hill, wind around and turn right into the lot for the Verona Community Market. Unload and pull away from the dock. The dock at that store is in pretty bad shape. The lot is a big mud hole and it's a tight cut to back in. Always glad to get that one out of the way. Fox Chapel is harder to back into but at least the lot is paved. Community Market in Verona, that's where I usually hang for a few minutes and eat my lunch. Last night was nice and cool. It was a nice lunch.

Wind back around. Wind back up the hill. Last night I had to stop at the top because a coal train was passing. I set the brakes and lit a cigarette. I was thinking how cool would it be to listen to some jazz while the coal train passes. Instead I had Toby Keith singing about "she's a hottie". I turned the radio off and listened to the train. It was better than "she's a hottie". Now I like Toby Keith. I just don't think that's one of his better songs. So the train passes and it's under the overpass and back up the blinking light. Hang a right and Jake all the way down the big long hill towards 366. Next stop, Community Market in Lower Burrell. That's an easy dock to back into. It's an easy stop all the way around. Head towards Tarentum and the other river. Cross that bridge looking towards Natrona but stay on 56 to 28 north.

Hit the highway runnin'. Music crankin', coffee sloshing all over the dash while I light a cigarette and run her up through all the gears with my right foot on the floor. The forty-eight foot trailer is much lighter now. Now it's fun to drive, less like work. Say goodbye to Pittsburgh as the sun comes blazing through the windshield. Flip the visor down. Start thinking about a good place to take a nap 'cause I got some time to kill.

It's a living. Somebody has to do it.

More News.

2008-05-16T15:12:00.004-05:00

Doctor called me yesterday. My wife was sleeping. I got home from work around 1815hrs. The phone rang and it was her doctor, the Surgeon/Oncologist guy. He said they found more cancer in one of her Lymph Nodes. He said it's not that bad. They found it in the Sentinel Node and one other Auxiliary Node. He also said they found Invasive Cancer in the remaining breast tissue on her breast that they removed two weeks ago. Remaining because she already had a Lumpectomy done on that breast last fall. I forgot to ask him about the left breast tissue, they removed that one too. I guess if they found something there he would have told me about that.

The doctor said they got it all. The doctor said nothing has changed. She will start Chemotherapy in a few weeks. The doctor said it all looks good, for now.

I didn't know how to tell her. I just told her straight out. She was actually relieved. I didn't understand. Why would she be relieved to find out that she actually had an Invasive Cancer hiding like a sniper, camouflaged amongst the DCIS? She told me why. It makes sense when you think about it.

When they found cancer in her Sentinel Node after the biopsy they did a couple weeks before the double mastectomy, they said they didn't understand why it would be there. They said that DCIS does not do that. DCIS does not "travel". She was worried because it was an unknown. Now it's a known. It's a known and they got it all. Her most excellent Surgeon/Oncologist got it with his scalpel. Now, just to make sure, another doctor will nuke that bastard Cancer with Chemotherapy. The other doctor is a Medical Oncologist.

On Friday, 16MAY08 around 0915 hrs. I was standing on the loading dock at a grocery store called Pechin's in Conelsville. It's on 119 just south of town. Actually, I think it's in Durbin. The Nurse called me on my Trac phone. The Nurse is our primary contact with the Surgeon/Oncologist. She apologized for calling me at work. I told her not to worry about it. The guys from Pechin's were unloading about one thousand cases of stuff that was all stacked and shrink wrapped on pallets from the back of my forty-eight foot trailer. They have to check everything in while they unload. Basically, I just stand around for two hours while they do this.

The Nurse said that they were scheduling her an appointment with the Medical Oncologist. She also said they were scheduling her an appointment with a Pain Management Specialist. She said that Pain Management may also include some therapy to help her deal with all this. The Nurse said she is mailing two more prescriptions for the pain killers that my wife needs while she recovers from this surgery.

Hey Tommy. I'm good. I don't need therapy. You know how that goes. I just drive my big truck all around this Western and Central Pennsylvania. It's a great detail. Nobody bothers me. I'm my own boss. I get overtime and I'm home every night. I usually start at 0430, maybe 05. Two days a week it's 0830 hauling produce. I'm home between 1430 and 1800 hours, depending on the day. I don't even listen to the radio. I turn the stupid CB off. The CB is usually just full of guys who like to hear themselves talk and they talk about nothing at all related to road conditions. No man, I just think while I drive. It's all good on my end brother.

Hey Tommy. Man, I have got to tell you about this place where I run produce. It's called Whyte's Comet Market. It's right on the Allegheny River in Parker. On the west side of the river just ten miles from exit 42 off I80. It's the coolest store man. They got the nicest people working there. The fishing is great, or so I've been told. Maybe I'll find out for myself one day.

Check.

2008-05-14T13:23:00.005-05:00

We took a ride down to Pittsburgh this morning. The doctor removed the drains. I could see a noticeable difference on her face. She looks so much better without those two foot long plastic tubes that look like air pump lines from a fish tank with little clear hand grenades hanging off the end sticking out of her body. Two on each side.

We went to Ritter's Diner around the corner to celebrate. She has not been anywhere in two weeks, other than the patio behind our house. She was so happy she almost cried. She is sleeping now. She needs to sleep.

I don't know if I mentioned this before. Two weeks ago, on 01MAY08, when I had to leave Pittsburgh after taking her to the hospital for the double mastectomy. I stopped at Ritter's for breakfast and coffee to get me back home. When I was at Ritter's I had to utilize the facilities. I walked through the two way swinging door at the end of the counter to the rear of the diner and turned right to enter the Men's Room. The Men's Room at Ritter's consists of one stall located to the left as you enter. A sink stands to the right of the stall and two urinals are mounted to the wall to the right of that sink. The first urinal, the one closest to the sink, is much closer to the ground than the second urinal. The first urinal I suppose is placed at the proper height for small children, midgets and maybe the handicapped. The second urinal seems to be set for the average adult male, height. I'm talking height here.

So on that Thursday two weeks ago, as I stood in front of that second urinal I looked up the ceiling for no reason at all. On the ceiling directly above was one word scribbled in pencil. Keep in mind that the Men's Room at Ritter's is not littered with graffiti. That one word that I saw written on the ceiling above me was;

HOPE

I saw it there again this morning. I saw the word HOPE looking back down at me.

Hey Tommy. I don't know man. I do know that it makes me feel better. I mean, HOPE. Who can argue with that?...........................No word on those biopsy results yet. We do know they found cancer in the Sentinel Node, that's why they removed all of the Lymph Nodes in that cluster. They said it would take about a week to get those results. They said that almost two weeks ago. I'm holding on to what I saw above me in that latrine at Ritter's Diner in Pittsburgh. I'm holding on to that real hard.

Five Mayonnaise.

2008-05-07T11:12:00.004-05:00

I brought her home on Monday. She's been doing better with time. Today we have a Visiting Nurse here in our drafty old house. She's with her right now. The older baby girl is with them too. It's time for the dressings to be changed. Nurse says it all looks good. One week from today she will have the drains removed. The older baby girl will drive her to Pittsburgh for her 0845 scheduled appointment. I was transferred to day shift starting next week, I can't take her.

Day shift down on The Dock starts at 0600. For trailer drivers, like me, it starts at all different times. It depends on the run you get for that day. I will probably be heading to Pittsburgh at 0400 several days a week. That's fine with me. Day shift trailer drivers get Lots-O-Overtime.

So we have to empty the drains twice a day. Four tubes, each attached to a plastic squishy bottle that resembles a hand grenade in both shape and almost in size. Difference is this. You squeeze these balls.

(I know, I know. I could have said that better.)

Anyway, you squeeze them and they create a vacuum that helps the drains, well, drain. When you empty these things out you have to measure the amount fluid in each one and record same. They are designated "A" through "D". She will be very happy when they are gone.

I have to go for now. I will continue this later. 1225hrs. 06MAY08.

It's now Friday, 09MAY08. 1240hrs.

She's sleeping. I'm tired. I will sleep on the weekend. I start day shift on Monday. Have to alter my sleep patterns accordingly. It's all good. I'm going to to take a personal day on Wednesday, 14MAY08. I willl take her to Pittsburgh to have the drains removed. She asked me if I could do that. She worries about the girls.

A View?

2008-05-04T07:38:00.002-05:00

It's Sunday morning coming down. I love that song. 0839 hours. 04MAY08. My wife just called. She said they might give her a private room. She said they might give her a room with a view. I asked her how that happened. She said she doesn't know. She said they came in to her semi-private room with no window about an hour ago. They just asked her if she'd like a nicer room.

She's in pain. A lot of pain. She says she feels "slaughtered". She's got stitches everywhere. Stitches in the front. Stitches in the back. Stitches on both sides. She was crying on the phone last night. She still does not want me to come and see her. I'm thinking maybe I'll go anyway.

Hey Tommy. I don't know nothin' about that. It's just good timin' I guess. I mean just last night she's sayin' how she walked around a little bit. She was sayin' how they got all these nice rooms on her floor, with windows and flat screen TV's. She was just sayin' how some of those rooms are empty and how her little room at the end of the hall is so small and it has no windows. All of the sudden maybe they're thinkin' about givin' her a nicer room. It's funny how that stuff happens, you know? Yeah, like I was sayin'. I don't know nothin' about that. Maybe prayers do get answered directly sometimes. Maybe you just got to say it the right way.

This Post.

2008-05-03T16:25:00.006-05:00

I don't know what to call this post. I think I'll call it "This Post". That works for me. I don't know why a post needs a name. I guess it just does. I'm going to fill in the title box now.

There, now I feel better. The younger baby girl came with me to the grocery store today. We bought a six pack of IBC Black Cherry Soda. We like the Root Beer and the Cream Soda from IBC, we have never tried the Black Cherry. I was carrying the six pack of IBC Black Cherry into the house. I was holding it by the carry handle so conveniently located at the top of the cardboard IBC six pack container. The handle broke. The six pack of IBC Black Cherry Soda landed upside down. All six bottles of IBC Black Cherry Soda broke. All six of the twelve ounce bottles deposited their contents of IBC Black Cherry Soda on the patio. It was sad, watching the IBC Black Cherry Soda run across the concrete, mixing with the light rain that was falling at the time. I stood there with the cardboard handle still in hand. It was all so very Hitchcockian.

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

May Day; Revisited.

So the doctors called me on Thursday. The first doctor called at around two-thirty in the afternoon. He said the first part of the operation went well. No complications. He said the second surgeon was working on her. The reconstruction team was on the job. The second doctor called me on my cell phone, well it's a TRAC FONE just for emergencies. Anyway, the second doctor called me a little bit after five on Thursday afternoon. I was down at The Dock for my regular shift. We are not supposed to use cell phones unless on a scheduled break but this was different. The Foreman knew I was waiting for these calls. I was back in the racks when the call came in. The second doctor said his part all went well too. No complications. He said she'd be in recovery for about four hours and he gave me the phone number for the recovery room. I called the recovery room on my lunch break, they said she was already moved to a regular room and doing well. The nurses in the area where they moved her said she was sleeping. I figured that was good and I'd talk to her in the morning.

Friday morning I take the younger baby girl to school. The older baby girl is still sleeping and my wife called at around eight-thirty. She sounded good. She said she was hungry. We talked for a few minutes. I ran up to Radio Shack and got the stuff I needed to hook up the stereo to the computer so we can play streaming audio and all that good stuff through the stereo. I had to pull some wire through the basement because the stereo and the computer are in different rooms. I got it all done before I went to work. Now when she comes home from the hospital she can listen to her favorite radio station. KBXR 102.3 Columbia Missouri. She really likes Simon Rose, this British guy who's on the air at BXR from two through seven (CST) on weekdays. My wife has always been a sucker for a British or a Scottish accent. She likes that Craig Ferguson guy too.

I put in my time down The Dock and got home about fifteen minutes before midnight. We start at three on Fridays. No sooner had I walked in the door and the phone rang. It was my wife. She was upset. We talked for almost an hour. Her hospital room has no windows. Now I'm not a doctor but I would think that kind of lock down situation has got to mess with a person. It can't be good for your soul if you can't even look out the window. I'm not complaining, they are taking good care of her. I just think every hospital room should have a window. She said they were concerned about the bleeding. She has these drains in her, two on each side. She said the doctors were concerned, the blood seemed to be draining faster than normal. At one in the morning they came into her room to give her a transfusion. We had to end our phone call at that time.

This morning she says that the bleeding slowed way down. It's all under control. We have spoken several times today. At one point she told me they took her off the morphine IV drip thing. She said they were giving her pills now. The next time we talked she asked me to call her doctor and tell him that she needed stronger pain killers for when she comes home. I only heard the first part. I thought she was saying that she needed stronger pain killers right now. I didn't hear the part about when she comes home. She was basing this request on the prescription they gave her almost two weeks ago when she had the biopsy done on her Sentinel Lymph Node. She was saying that now, after the bilateral mastectomy, now it hurts a lot worse so she would like to have stronger pain killers.

So I call the doctor and get his service. I tell the service that I just need a minute of the doctor's time. He calls back in like ten minutes and wants to know if the nurses are taking care of my wife and giving her the pain killers. I said yes, the nurses are taking real good care of her and that she just wanted some stronger medication and, oh boy. Did I screw that all up.

So the doctor starts telling me that my wife has to talk to the nurses and that he cant' be going to her room to give her a pill and,...... AAAAAHHHHH!......THAT'S NOT WHAT I SAID..... I wanted to scream but I didn't. So he says he's going to her room to see her and see what he could do. I call her right back and let her know that he's coming down to her room to check things out. I guess he did that. I guess it's all good now.

I have to be honest here. I don't really care if some nurse thought I was complaining. I don't care if the doctor thinks I'm complaining. All I care about is my wife and what's best for her. I would be there if I could. We live pretty far from Pittsburgh and I have to work. We have kids and dogs and birds who all need to be taken care of. I don't need to be losing hours at my job and losing money from my paycheck at this point in time when my wife is not able to work because she has cancer and just had her breasts removed and will need chemotherapy and who knows what else by the time this is all said and done. If those people at the hospital in Pittsburgh can't understand that, if they can't understand that it's a little bit hard to be the concerned spouse and advocate for my wife while she goes through all of this on her own because I have to be here to hold the fort down and work so we can pay our bills. If those people can't cut us just a little bit of slack here then shame on them.

Hey Tommy. I have to run bro. I have to put some stuff in the dryer and go to the store to get some IBC Black Cherry Soda............Yeah buddy I know. Right about now I'm talkin' too much.

May Day. Today. D-Day. The Day.

2008-05-01T12:30:00.005-05:00

Finished up work down at The Dock at 0030 hours. After a shave and a shower, some eggs and lots of coffee, we left for Pittsburgh at 0340. We arrived at 0510. They checked her in. I stayed with her until they threw me out.

I went around the corner to Ritter's Diner and stuffed myself on corn beef hash, eggs over easy, home fries, sausage and rye toast. More coffee and coffee to go. A Rocket Fuel Breakfast.

Left Ritter's at 0725. Drove back up South Aiken and hung a left at Fifth. Washington Boulevard (Rt. 8) back to the Highland Park Bridge then north on 28 with the classic rock blasting over the radio through the two good speakers in my old Jeep.

Heart. "Crazy On You". The long play album version with that great acoustic intro took me past The Mills. The Wilson sisters. Damn. Is there guy my age out there who didn't have teenage dreams about the Wilson Sisters? And Stevie Nicks too.

Route 85. South Mahoning Township, Indiana County. Is that house teal? It looks like a swimming pool. Maybe it's me. I'm tired. Those hills sure are pretty. Rolling, like waves. When the dandelions turn to seed it will look like white caps on those waves.

Journey. "Wheel In The Sky". And it keeps on turning. Loud obnoxious morning drive adds and sports updates that I care nothing about. I need music to keep my brain from spinning out of control. The Seek Button. Three clicks and Steely Dan. That's better.

Got home and slept for a couple hours. Called the hospital for an update at 1300 hours. I had to give them my P.I.N. for patient information. She's still in surgery.

1410 hours. Her surgeon just called me. He's done with his part and the plastic surgeon's team is now on the job doing their reconstruction thing. The doctor who just called, the main doctor, oncologist/surgeon said everything went well. No surprises. She's been on the operating table for well over six hours now. The doctor said it will be a couple more hours before it's done. The doctor said that the biopsy results of the remaining lymph nodes that he removed this morning will take about a week to come back. He said he didn't see anything obvious.

I need more coffee. I need a hell of a lot more coffee. I'm going to go drink as much coffee as I can between now and 1510 hours when I pick the younger baby girl up at the bus stop. The older baby girl is at work. She will be home before I leave for work. The doctor will call me at work or on my cell phone.

I will go back to Pittsburgh tomorrow morning to bring her some things that she will need for her stay at the hospital. She will be knocked out until tomorrow anyway. I'll take the girls down to see her over the weekend. She should be able to come back home on Monday.

Always.

Results.

2008-04-25T10:03:00.005-05:00

The doctor called.

Wednesday night, 23 April. I was at work and I called home on my lunch break. She said the doctor called at seven o'clock. The doctor said the Sentinel Node Biopsy results came back positive. the doctor said he was very surprised. The doctor said that nothing indicates an invasive cancer, except the Sentinel Lymph Node Biopsy. The doctor said they found a tumor inside the Sentinel Node. The doctor said this will add an hour or more to her upcoming scheduled surgery. The doctor said she will need Chemotherapy.

She was shocked. She cried. Chemo scares her more than the cancer itself. She saw what it did to her father. She did not cry when she was on the phone with me. She asked me if I was okay. I lied and said I was.

I was still on my lunch break so I went outside off The Dock and sat in my old Jeep. I put the radio on and listened to some jazz on 90.5 DUQ Pittsburgh. The music came through the two good speakers that still work in that good old Jeep. I drank a cold can of Pepsi and smoked a couple cigarettes.

The doctors all said that hers was a case of very early detection. The doctors all said that it was so wonderful, they were going to be able to treat her without Chemotherapy. The doctors all said. The doctors should know, they are all very good doctors and experts in their chosen fields. The doctors all work at The Hillman Cancer Center, and the big UPMC hospitals down in Pittsburgh. The doctors all said. The doctors were wrong and they don't know why.

My wife is no longer a very lucky woman who was diagnosed with stage zero D.C.I.S.. My wife is now a woman who has cancer that has spread and the doctors don't know why. She is a stage two or three at this point. We will find out more on Monday.

Last night we sat and talked when I got home from work at around one in the morning. We each had a beer. That is unusual for us, to have a beer during the work week. She wanted to say some things. She wanted to talk about what would happen if she doesn't make it. I did not want to talk about that. It was not up to me. She made me promise that I would be there for the girls. Of course I will. She made me promise that I would move on with my life so that they would move on as well. I told her that the older baby girl is going away to college in the fall like she planned. I told her that I would sell the house and quit my job if I had to. I told her I could rent something and live off my cop pension and be home for the younger baby girl. You can still do that around here. You can rent something affordable if you have to. The Greed Monger Yuppie Scum From Hell have not ruined this Blue Collar Paradise, yet.

Her mind is spinning. I guess it would. Her thoughts are all over the place. She is going to teach me her book keeping methods, and how she pays the bills. I'm going to have to take that over, for now at least. She has a long road ahead of her. Recovering from surgery, then the Chemotherapy that will kill her as it cures her. I am going to have to step up to the plate like I never have before. I am going to have to be as strong as she is. Real strength, not just my stupid guy kind of strength. I can't ride a Harley and make this all better, if I still had a Harley. I can't jump out of a perfectly good aircraft and fix this. There is nothing in my toolbox that will help. I have to be like her. I have to face this honestly.

I want to say the moon was out. I don't remember if it was. I want to say I saw a sign. I don't remember if I did. I want to say my prayers are being answered. I don't know if they are.

Hey Tommy. The calender hanging on the kitchen wall here in this drafty old house says today is Good Friday............Pretty funny, huh bro?...........

Primary.

2008-04-19T10:54:00.001-05:00

I can't believe this. I wrote this killer post and blogger was "unable to complete this request" when I hit the "publish" button. My killer post is gone. It's lost, adrift in cyberspace. I will miss that post. It was really very funny. It was the funniest thing ever written in the entire history of the world. Of course you can't deny that it was because it's gone now. You will just have to take my word for it.

Senator Clinton woke me this morning. I have decided to vote for Senator Obama because he never woke me up on a Saturday morning after I worked all week second shift plus overtime.

I hate this whole primary thing.

Hey Tommy. If you happen to see my killer post out there somewhere, send it back to me before it gets lonely and scared.

Slim.

2008-04-15T09:21:00.003-05:00

So I'm sitting here at UPMC Shadyside. My wife is in surgery. Not the big surgery. The Sentinel Node Biopsy. Sometimes called the Mother Node, it is located by injecting a dye into the bloodstream. If cancer is present in the Mother Node, that's bad. If cancer is not detected in the Mother Node, that's very good.

I'm in the Family Lounge in Posner Tower at Shadyside. They have two computers here for our use. I have a flashing pager, the kind they use at restaurants. The pager will activate when it's time for me to report to the desk. They paged me earlier, just before they wheeled her away. I gave her a kiss and I tasted like coffee. She was not allowed to eat or drink anything after midnight. I kind of felt bad because she really loves coffee. She said it was the best kiss ever. I'm thinking about finding me some coffee flavored toothpaste.

I worked down on The dock 'til 0030 last night. I slept from 0100 'til 0300. We left at 0430 and arrived here in Pittsburgh at 0602. Good time. Very little traffic.

I'm numb at this point. Driving on impulse power. It's all good.

Hey Tommy. Who is the real Shady?

Yesterday.

2008-04-12T13:05:00.004-05:00

So I had to work last night. We start at three instead of four on Friday. My wife had an appointment down at Hillman at eleven in the morning. She took the girls with her. She let the younger baby girl skip school. The other doctor's office called on Thursday and asked if she could stop in there at noon. The other doctor is the plastic surgeon who will do the reconstruction. The folks at Hillman had to do the required monthly blood work, E.K.G. and chest x-ray. She had the blood drawn, then drove down the block to the plastic surgeon's office, then drove back to Hillman for the rest. Her oncologist/surgeon who is in charge of The Team spoke to her briefly. It was good that the girls went with her. They now have a better understanding of what is going on.

Everything is moving very fast now. It looks like the first of May is the date for her surgery. Kind of strange. May Day, the distress call. She is sleeping right now. She is exhausted. Stress will do that to a person. They sat in Friday afternoon Pittsburgh traffic on their way back home yesterday. She said the traffic was bumper to bumper from the Highland Park Bridge all the way to The Mills. Construction. I shot home from The Dock at my seven-thirty lunch break to let The Dogs out. They pulled up five minutes later. A very long day for the ladies in this house.

I'm going to eat something now. I'm thinking about what I will have. These are important decisions. I'm glad we have options. I actually complained the other day. I complained about the fridge being so full that I couldn't find what I was looking for. I immediately realized how stupid that was. Well, like my grandfather always said.

"No sense bein' stupid unless you show it now and then".

I made that up. As far as I know my grandfather never actually said that. It sounds like something a grandfather would say. I'm going to go eat now. I'll be back.

That was good. She makes this dish, it's a recipe she got from Southern Living magazine years ago. It's pretty simple, but oh so good. Ground beef with chopped onions and all kinds of good seasoning with a crust made out of crescent roll dough. You lay the dough in a 8 1/2 x 11 glass tray/pan thing and fill it up. Then, you criss cross the rest of the dough on top and bake it. It's best served with sour cream on top. I like to put some hot sauce on the sour cream. I had a large serving of her home made pasta salad with it. I sat on the living room floor with my back up against the couch and ate while watching some of a John Wayne movie on one of the cable channels. I think it was on AMC. I really like John Wayne movies. I put my plate on the sink. I stepped out back and hung a smoke.

She has been cooking a lot this past week since she's been home again. She made her world famous lasagna. She made this ham and rice dish that we all love so much. We made chili together last weekend. And of course she made the recently consumed, aforementioned meat pie and pasta salad.

It's good to see her feeling a little better. Not having to drag herself in to the powdered metal factory every night at midnight is starting to show. Her hands are cleaner. The powdered metal dust is washing away a little at a time, no longer being replaced each night. Her sleep patterns are improving as well. The one down side is that now she has more time to think. It's almost easier to deal, or not deal, with problems when you are busy and tired all the time. It's good that she's thinking about, and absorbing all of this cancer stuff. It's good but it's not easy.

My friend Beetus, I wrote a post about him some time back. Well Beetus called last night and told me that he had this feeling. Beetus said that I have to buy a Powerball ticket today. He said I have to buy it but my wife has to pick the numbers. It's unusual for Beetus to say such a thing. I went out and got the card that you use for picking the numbers. When she wakes up I'll have her fill it out. I'll take it down to the corner gas station/convenience store and buy the ticket. You never know.

Hey Tommy. I was thinkin' 'bout you this morning bro.........Yeah, you know the deal......Well bro, I got to go for now. I have to listen to Elvis and get some work done on this hallway that we've been working on here in this drafty old house........Maggie was her name Tommy. My grandmother's name was Maggie. I wrote a post about her too. It was like a year ago, maybe longer........Yeah Tommy. Later.

"I'm gonna stick like glue........because I'm, stuck on you....."

That's the one I sing to my wife.

"The Changeling"

2008-04-07T07:34:00.005-05:00

One of my favorite Doors songs. Anyway, lots-o-changes here. Last Thursday I went over to The Dock around 1030 hours. I asked to see the Big Boss. It's a family owned and operated business. The Big Boss is the eldest son who, along with his brother and cousin, run the whole show.

I had spoken to him about six weeks ago. I spoke to him about a full time position. He told me to wait a couple months. He said a customer owed him a lot of money, and the contract was open. He said that the Dock Supervisor and my Shift Foreman both want me on full time. He said he wants me on full time too, just not yet. I smiled and thanked him. I reminded him that I was an ex-cop from Jersey. I told him maybe I know some guys. Maybe we could collect that debt for him. He laughed, thank God he laughed. Sometimes people don't get me, humor and like that.

Yeah, so I go see him on Thursday. He calls the Dock Supervisor in his office and we talk. He is very nice and I like him. He said he would have an answer for me within two weeks, one way or the other. See it's like this. One of the company trailer drivers just quit, went to work for a drilling rig outfit. I know that they need that slot filled and I have a class A c.d.l....I can drive a trailor.

So I come back home and the phone rings about ten mintutes after I walk in the door. It's the Dock Supervisor. He said I start full time on Monday, that's today. That means an immediate increase of four dollars and thirty-five cents per hour with two more increases at six month intervals of seventy-five cents an hour each. It also means paid holidays, five paid sick days, one personal day and a week's vacation. Two weeks after three years. I will also get my birthday off with pay, and I will be in the Teamster's Pension fund. Not bad. Oh yeah, since I don't need the insurance because I have insurance through my cop pension, I will get a little extra in each check for that as well. This is very good news. To land this job at my age, in this economy, it's very good news indeed.

The best part is this. My wife was able to take leave from her job at the powdered metal factory. She can schedule her needed surgery and not have to worry about rushing back to work. She can take the time she needs to beat this friggin' cancer. She can be home more with The Girls and The Dogs and The Parrot and The Love Bird. She can get well.

Yeah. Last Thursday was a real good day. Life is looking up. I love my wife.

"I live.......uptown.........I live..........downtown........I live.......all around"

Ritter's Diner

2008-03-31T09:08:00.004-05:00

Three more trips to Pittsburgh since my last post. We discovered Ritter's. A nurse at Hillman told us about the place, it's right around the corner from the hospital. Ritter's is the best diner we have been to in years. It's just like the places we all hung out at when we were growing up in North Jersey. Ritter's has a non-smoking section. The rest of the booths and the counter all have ashtrays so you don't have to feel like some kind of outcast for having a smoke with your coffee. The coffee is very good by the way. Nothing fancy, no latte mocha Seattle yuppie crap, just good coffee. They have CD jukeboxes at the window booths. Waitresses who call you "honey, dear" and "sweetheart".

So the next step is to schedule the surgery. She saw the plastic surgeon last week, he can handle the reconstruction. He works closely with the people at Hillman, with her surgeon/oncologist in particular. They will want to see her one more time, at the plastic surgeon's office, after they schedule the operation. The hospital will need her to come in for one more biopsy about a week prior as well. They want to do a lymph node biopsy as a precaution.

She is scared now. It all seems so final now. A bilateral, or double mastectomy is in her near future. Reconstruction will begin on that day, it's actually the best time to do it. She had a hard time making that decision, to have the reconstruction. She said she felt like it made her seem shallow to want that. The plastic surgeon gave her a DVD to watch. The DVD explains the whole process, it also includes interviews with many women who have been where she is now. They all said the same things, they all felt felt the same things. They all expressed the same thoughts about breast cancer that she has been having, from diagnoses up to and including reconstruction. They were all glad they had the reconstruction.

Hey Tommy. Yeah bro, sorry I havn't written nothin' for a few weeks. Just ain't been happenin' for me, you know? I went to Jersey. I saw that old man. He is on his way out. I think he's okay with that. It was good that we talked, me and him. Our old neighbors from a few doors down when I was growing up, their mom is in the room across the hall from my father. Talk about a strange reunion. It was good to see them. Well, two of the brothers and the one sister were there. The other two brothers I didn't get to see this time. Me and "J", we exchanged e-mails. Me and him are the closest in age. We ran around together when we were kids. We were all part of the same crew. Yeah, Jersey was a lot different back then. We all grew up blue collar and regular. It's all yuppies and big money these days. "J" said that my old house is for sale. "J" said he had to take a walk through when they had an open house. "J" said it was cool, lots of memories, good times sneaking out the side door runnin' wild. "J" said the guy who's sellin' that house is asking over a million for the place. That's just nuts. My parents sold it for a little over a hundred thousand back around 1981. That's a real shame I think. Jersey is gone. Ain't no Jersey left, not like we knew it. It's just a big friggin' suburban wasteland now. Too much money. How much is enough?

3-3. 3-11

2008-03-08T11:39:00.004-05:00

We reported to Magee Women's Hospital on Halket Street in Pittsburgh this Monday past. The first thing they did was a head and eye x-ray. That didn't take too long at all. In fact she was done before her scheduled appointment time. Second stop was across the third floor lobby to the Breast Center for mammograms. She was in there for two hours.

I had gone downstairs to get her a cup of coffee while we waited for her scheduled two o'clock mammogram appointment. I returned with her coffee and she was gone. They had called her a few minutes early. I read the Pittsburgh Post while her coffee went cold. I walked out into the third floor lobby. Leaning against the railing looking out at the city I saw a medi-vac chopper make it's approach. Cautiously, the bird flared for it's landing on a nearby rooftop. Judging the angle I assumed the chopper was landing at UPMC Presbyterian Hospital located a short distance from where I stood. It's odd seeing and not hearing a helicopter in such close proximity.

I went outside to call our daughter, the older baby girl. I had our pre-paid Trac Fone in my pocket. She picked up her sister at the bus stop.

*

So I started this post on the eighth. Today is the thirteenth. On Monday, the tenth, we were back at the Hillman Cancer Center on Centre Avenue in Pittsburgh. They drilled holes in her. Biopsy. She's waiting to hear from the doctor. She is bruised. She is uncomfortable. She did not go to work on Monday night. The doctor said no work for twenty-four hours. She went in on Tuesday night at midnight. She went in again last night. She's sleeping now.

When we were at Hillman the other day, I went outside and crossed the street to have a cigarette. I stood near the corner of Shadyside Hospital, the northeast corner by the overpass. I don't remember much. I guess nothing stood out. They have free coffee at Hillman. In the main lobby when you first walk in, and up on the third floor to the right of the reception desk for outpatient services. The coffee on the third floor is better.

I have a pit in my stomach.

We have a new dog. A puppy. He's a Papillon. He's great. My wife said we need something positive in this house. She's right. The girls love him. I love him too. The other two dogs get along with him just fine. The Shep, she looks out for him. The younger mutt, the smart one, he's teaching the puppy how to play.

I still have a pit in my stomach. Don't know what to say so I don't say anything at all. It's not working out very well.

It was Tuesday the eleventh when we went to Hillman. It was not Monday, it was Tuesday.

It's Just Off Fifth.

2008-02-24T15:44:00.004-05:00

Tomorrow morning my wife has an appointment at The Hillman Cancer Center, U.P.M.C. in Pittsburgh. She's going to see a specialist. I'm glad she's going. This doctor she will see tomorrow, he's an Oncology Surgeon who specialises in breast cancer. This guy trained at one of the big hospitals in Boston. He spent some time at the National Cancer Institute in Bethesda and he was even an instructor in surgery at Harvard for a few years. I'm thinking he's probably going to have a little more to say about her breast cancer than we've heard from her current doctor.

I'm not saying that her current doctor isn't a good doctor. He is a good doctor. Her current doctor is a general surgeon, he is not a high speed specialist like this guy down in Pittsburgh. You get what you pay for. We have good insurance.

She's scared. I'm scared too. Don't know what to make of this. I'm focusing on the directions. Mapquest works. Google Earth allowed me to track the entire route from satellite images on the computer screen. It seems like a bit much but it keeps me occupied. We also got directions from a friend who has been there.

We watched Clean This House on TV this morning. The woman who hosts the show plays one of the deputies on Reno 911. We have been "de-crapping" our house for the last couple of weeks. We got all motivated and "de-crapped" some more today. It feels good to throw out the crap. It makes my wife feel good to have less clutter around. I am a big source of the clutter.

Our dog, the little mutt, he lost three and one half pounds. He was getting fat. He looked like a sausage. He was having a hard time rolling over when asked to roll over. We cut way back on his treats. We cut way back on the table scraps. No scraps at all. He goes for a nice brisk walk every day. He's looking good. He can roll over again. Our other dog, the German Shepard, she's getting gray hairs all around her muzzle. She's middle age now. She'll be six in June. She doesn't like to go for walks. She likes her yard and her own house. She stays home when we take the little guy out for his exercise.

I played hookie from work on Friday. It was my wife's idea. Seems some of the guys she works with up at The Plant were killing time at a local tavern like they do every other Friday when they get paid. It's a regular thing. She dropped me off around noon. We drank beer and shot pool all afternoon. I have not done that in a long time. It was good. I called my foreman from my Trac Fone in the back room at the bar. The back room is real quiet. I just said I wouldn't be in. He didn't ask and I didn't care. If he asks me on Monday when I get to The Dock I'll tell him I was at the bar. I ain't going to lie about something like that. It's all good.

Yeah, so she's decided to work half a shift tonight. She'll clock out at 0400 and come home for a shower and maybe some breakfast. We'll leave here by 0600 to make it to her appointment in time. We want to leave extra early, Pitsburgh traffic being like it is. The Hillman Cancer Center, it's downtown on Centre Avenue just a little bit off Fifth.

Drive On.

2008-02-10T14:13:00.000-05:00

Yeah, so those were a couple of old war stories. My days as a cop in my native North Jersey are well behind me now. There are times when I miss it. When that happens it don't take long for me to remember all the stuff I don't miss. Can you dig it?

Snow squalls in today's Western Pennsylvania forecast. They ain't kiddin' either. Friggin' spell check won't work on this blogger thing. We owe seven hundred and something bucks on our taxes this year. The bastards just keep knockin' you down. We really don't make a whole lot of money. We have three incomes. My pension, what I earn down on The Dock and my wife's job too. It don't seem to matter what we claim to have witheld from our paychecks, it's just not enough. If you add the three things up it puts us in a higher tax bracket. I bet we pay a higher percentage then friggin' Exxon. I'm so sick of this.

Looks like March the fifth. That's when my wife will have her breasts removed. Friggin' breast cancer. The doctor said that breasts are considered a "non-essential" body part. That means that the friggin' insurance company can have her sent home from the hospital sooner. They will probably send her home that day, maybe one night in the hospital but as soon as they can get away with it.

All these assholes runnin' for president. Did you see how much money they spend for their respective campaigns? It's disgusting. All so they can get in the White House and take our hard money while they let the insurance companies and the oil companies do whatever they want. All they will do is take care of their rich contributors. I really don't believe a word any of them say. And they wonder why people don't vote? Why the hell should we vote when all they do is stick it to us every chance they get?

Yeah, I'm a little bitter. Yeah, I'm pissed off too. Don't worry, it will subside.

I am married to the best woman on the planet. We have been blessed with two of the sweetest, brightest kids anyone could ever hope for. "They" can tax me to death. "They" can rip us off like they always do, "They" will never have what we have here in this drafty old house.

Okay, I'm done with the whole cry baby routine. I'm not even sure if I'll post this post. If you read then you'll know. If you don't read it.....................................

Hey Tommy. Hey, I may be a sniveling little jerk but I'm honest about it. I know that doesn't make much sense. I'm scared to death man. I'm so scared about this cancer thing, I just don't know what to do. Drive on bro.

Guy.

2008-02-08T10:31:00.000-05:00

I know I said I'd write about this other guy, the one I'll call Guy. So I'm writing about Guy. He was mentally ill. When he was on his medication he was great. When he went off the meds, or the meds had to be adjusted, he could be a problem.

Guy was never as dangerous as Kid. He could have been, he was just much less prone to violence. Had Guy been prone to violence we could have had some real problems. Guy was a big man. Guy had served in the Marine Corp and seen action in Vietnam. Guy's mental illness did not "show up" until he was well into his thirties. He must have hid it well, or been able to control it through force of will. He was in his early forties when I first met him. Guy had a loving family. His extended family took good care of him. When we dealt with Guy we knew we could always call his grandmother, she could always keep him in line. Guy loved his grandmother.

We had this Captain, a Vietnam vet also, who always went out of his way for Guy. Some of the other older cops, the 'Nam vets, they looked out for him too. We were told from day one to treat Guy with respect. We were told to call the Captain or one of the other vets if he got out of control. All we ever really had to do was tell Guy that we were calling his grandmother, then he would get in the rig with the medics and go the hospital voluntarily. They knew him down at the ER. A couple days of observation, a change in his meds and Guy was good to go. Then his grandmother died.

One night we rolled up on Guy who was in the middle of the street, naked, drawing what looked like a big space ship on the pavement with sidewalk chalk. It was very late, about 0300, and it was a quiet one way residential street so traffic was not an issue. My partner, who was himself a former Marine, always got along with Guy quite well. My partner was not a 'Nam vet, he was far too young, but the Marine Corp thing seemed to be their connection. My partner was big too, almost as big as Guy.

I stood by the car while my partner walked up to talk to Guy. We were pretty sure he was not carrying any weapons. Guy was never known to carry weapons. Like I was saying before, Guy was stark naked as well. Kind of hard to conceal anything when you are naked. It can be done, but it would be very uncomfortable I'm sure.

So Guy said he was drawing the space ship as sort of a landing beacon. Guy said his people were coming to get him and take him home. My partner asked him where home was and Guy said that home was in Japan. Guy said he was Japanese. Oh, did I mention that Guy was African American? Guy did not look Japanese. Guy's grandmother once told me that she was born in Virginia. She said her husband was from New York.

Utelizing our combined powers of observation, my partner and I concluded that Guy was in fact going off the deep end again. We could not invoke his grandmother's name because sadly she had passed away a couple months prior. So, My partner asks Guy if he wants to take a ride down and see the doctor. Guy stands up, his knees and hands covered with sidewalk chalk dust. Guy glares at my partner. I'm thinking, here we go. Instead of a fight we had a chase. Guy took off on a dead run. For a guy his size, he could run. Down the street and out onto the Avenue. Cars honking and hitting the brakes while Guy ran full steam, naked, down the middle of the four lane busy main street. I started to laugh. My partner was laughing too. It's hard to run when your laughing. It messes with your breathing. It throws off your cadence.

Guy finally stopped. He turned and smiled as if he were waiting for us. Guy laughed at us. Guy said it was pretty sad that a couple of twenty somethings got beat out by an "old man". Guy told my partner that he was making the Corp look bad. Guy said we should stop eating all those free donuts.

A tavern owner came towards us. He had been locking up the bar when he saw us run down the street. The tavern owner had a table cloth that he gave us to wrap around Guy. We walked the three blocks back to the radio car. Fortunately it was still there. In the excitement of the chase. The "dog pile on the rabbit" syndrome, I had left it running in the middle of the street. We put Guy in the back of the car and called for the medics.

At the hospital, Guy asked us to stay with him until the doctors could see him. We stayed. The nurses were afraid of him. We told them not to be. They didn't believe us.

Guy was a good guy. Guy died about ten years after that incident. I was already retired from injuries when I heard he had passed away. I hope he's with his grandmother now. I hope the voices in his head left him when he moved on.

I Know.

2008-01-30T14:13:00.000-05:00

Yeah, I'm supposed to write about that guy, the one we'll call Guy. He's another aided person/mentally ill individual we dealt with back in the day. He was an ex-marine, a Nam vet. His mental illness had little or nothing at all to do with his service. He was probably always crazy, he just hid it better when he was younger. That's what the ER doctor said. I will tell you about him, I promise. I just don't have the time right now.

So after weeks of looking, my daughter and I finally found her first car. a '99 Dodge Neon with 72K miles. The car is immaculate. Well maintained by this guy she bought it from. The car Blue Books at thirty-four hundred. She got it for two grand. The guy even filled the tank up for her before we picked it up the other day. Nice guy. So she has her own wheels now. Payed for it with her own money, and she got her own insurance in her name. Wasn't too long ago, like three years ago, I was teaching her how to drive. It seems like it was only a week before that I was teaching her how to ride a bike.

I had to replace the sending unit for the oil pressure gauge on our old Jeep. One day the oil pressure just peeked all the way at the high end. I almost soiled my jeans. It only took a minute for me to realize that the motor was humming along nice and smooth, that it must have been the gauge, but that was not a fun minute. Forty bucks for the sending unit. Oh well. Now I have to replace the radiator, got a small leak in the radiator itself. When I was a kid you could have that fixed, or buy a re-built radiator pretty cheap. These days they make them out of aluminium and plastic. You can't really braze and silver aluminium and plastic. One hundred and thirty-four dollars for a new radiator. I called the auto parts guy this morning, he has to order it. I'll pick it up on Friday. I know what I'll be doing on Saturday.

I was sick as a dog this past Saturday night, early Sunday morning. Riding the porcelain train. Nasty bug going around here. Still not a hundred percent. Stayed home from work last night.

Have to run. Lots to do.

Messed Up Kid.

2008-01-21T11:11:00.000-05:00

So there is this blog I really enjoy. Fomamostly.blogspot.com. I really should have a link to it here on my own blog. Seeing as how I'm technically challenged, and borderline lazy, I don't.
She has this post up there about mental illness. It really makes you think. It also reminds me of several I.R.'s, or Incident Reports that were generated when I was a cop in Jersey.

The first I.R. that came to mind involved a kid, I won't use his name so we'll just call him Kid. Anyway, Kid would walk around with a Walkman on. No batteries present in that Walkman but he would hear the music. One night he climbed up an apartment building fire escape and jumped across the alley below, landing on the roof of a grocery store. He took all his clothes off and began yelling at people down in the street. My partner and I arrived and knew we had to be careful. I began to talk to Kid from the alley. I knew him, we had dealt with him before. While I had him distracted my partner made his way up to the roof. The manager of the grocery store let him use the interior service stairs. Kid heard my partner coming and tried to run away. At that point I hauled ass into the store and up the stairs myself. It took both of us to subdue Kid without hurting him. Our biggest fear was that he would jump off the roof. People below were cheering and screaming while we chased the naked Kid around that rooftop for about a full minute before my partner was able to tackle him and I was able to cuff him up. He was sent to the County for observation and released three days later.

Just a few short weeks after that incident, Kid called 9-1-1 and told the operator his name. He said he had a pistol and intended to shoot his parents. Three two man cars were dispatched to his parents house, a shift supervisor arrived as well. We took up positions on foot. None of us wanted to be sitting in a marked car with an armed Kid roaming around. The supervisor, who was a lieutenant and our sergeant who had also arrived on scene were in the house with Kid's parents. My partner saw him first, a foot chase ensued. We cornered him in a parking garage behind some garden apartments down the block. Kid had a brown in color paper bag in his right hand. Kid began to raise the paper bag as if it contained a weapon. Kid pointed that bag directly at my partner while I drew my Glock and was literally within a second of shooting Kid in the head from a distance of about six feet. The head shot was the only shot I had, a parked car stood between us. My partner stood directly in front of Kid, toe to toe. The only reason I did not shoot is because my partner, an ex-marine and former boxer, hit Kid square on the jaw with a punch that came from Kansas. The bag Kid was holding went flying and smashed against the hood of the parked car. It contained an empty glass bottle, a pint of gin. Even with the sledgehammer punch my partner had placed so squarely on Kid's chin, it still took four of us to subdue him, again without hurting him. This time Kid was sent to a state psych. facility and released three months later.

The last time I saw kid was in the doorway of a church. I had him at gunpoint while three other cops took him down and cuffed him. It seems that he had entered our station house and pointed a loaded pistol, a real pistol this time, at the desk sergeant who drew his own sidearm and ordered Kid to drop his weapon. Kid turned and ran out of the station while the desk sergeant called for back-up. We were right near the station when the call went out over the radio. We saw Kid running. My partner was driving so I jumped out of the still rolling radio car while the brakes screeched to a halt. Kid cut back through a parking lot and ran across a busy street, almost getting hit by a car in the process. I stayed on him. My partner was now driving around the block against the flow of traffic to cut Kid off on the other side. The sirens were screaming, everyone was rolling and the street was full of flashing red lights in a matter of seconds. It was still just me and Kid. I could see the gun in his hand when he tried to enter the church. I had him cold. The church door was locked. He threw the gun and started crying. I didn't say anything. I kept him covered while catching my breath as the other guys came charging out of the darkness and slammed Kid on the ground. We were done playing with Kid. Kid had crossed the line. It was a real gun this time. Kid went to prison. I don't know what ever happened to Kid.

I'll write some more about this other guy we used to deal with too. This other guy was also mentally ill, just like Kid. We'll call this other guy, Guy. Next post.

Salt. Chip. Shovel. Sweep. Salt.

2008-01-18T11:11:00.000-05:00

Yeah, so last night it was raining and snowing at the same time. A couple of us step out off The Dock around midnight to hang a smoke before we punch out at the end of our shift. It was raining and snowing at the same time. Weather report says a high of thirty-four degrees today. Weather report says it's going to get real cold this weekend. We're talking single digit cold.

So my wife comes home from work this morning. She says maybe she wants to run some errands. Maybe stop for lunch like we did yesterday when we had to go to the bank. Yesterday we shared a small pie at our favorite pizza place. She had her half with peppers and onions, olives and mushrooms. I had my half with sausage and pepperoni, onions and peppers. It was damn good. We ordered a large extra cheese to bring home for the girls. The younger baby girl was pretty happy with that when she got home from school. The older baby girl had some when she got home from work.

So I'm thinking that maybe because we had such a nice time together yesterday, and we really did have a good time. Lots of laughs, good conversation. Yeah, so I'm thinking how nice it would be to do that again today. So I wanted to jump on the offer to take my wife out and run some errands when she got home from work. I had to decline. I had to clean up the steps and the sidewalks after last night's rain and snow. With the deep freeze coming, it had to be done. We probably shouldn't spend the money anyway. We spent almost thirty dollars for lunch and the pizza to go. That's enough for now. I absolutely hated saying no to my wife this morning. I would rather hang out with her than chip the ice. I'm trying to be responsible. Chip the ice.

She's sleeping now. I won't see her 'til midnight tonight when I get home from my shift down on The Dock. She's not working overtime this weekend so she'll be home. I'm glad she's not going in for the overtime shift. She did that last week. I know the extra money is nice, but she works too hard as it is. I worry about her. I feel bad that she has to work at all. She likes to work, but it would be nice if it were an option rather than survival.

Hey Tommy, I was listening to the news before. They were sayin' that the government is going to try to do something about the economy. It's only been years with all of us out here in Blue Collar Land drowning. It seems that the Dow is losing money. The Dow is slipping. Can't have that now can we. God forbid all those Wall Street guys lose a little money while they continue to send our jobs out of the country and pay us less for what little work is left here for us to do.

Those assholes in Washington, who are supposed to work for us, better do something quick. If they keep letting these business school graduates and lawyers run the show, there ain't goin' to be too much left for them to govern. Yeah, and look who's runnin' for President these days? That's right bro. Lawyers and business school graduates. Like we can really trust any one of these people to do what's best for the whole country, and not just what's best for their own rich friends. Change. That's what they are all sayin' now. Make a change. Time for a change. Like it's some kind of big deal. Like it's goin' to be so hard to do things a little different. Like doing the right thing, doing your job. Doing the job that you were elected to do, the job that we pay you to do. Like that's so friggin' challenging. Like they are goin' to have to work soooo hard, and sacrifice soooo much. We should all feel bad for them. Look how hard they work. They have to raise all that money from the rich people and the corporations. It's really hard.

Bullshit. They could fix that in a second. They are the ones who have set the system up this way. They are the ones who will not let anybody else in. But they work so hard. We should all be thankful for their tireless efforts, while they sell our country out from under us. They have their supporters holding up signs in the background whenever they get in front of the cameras. The signs all say CHANGE. Just like that, in big bold letters. How stupid do they think we are? How damn insulting to us all. As if a friggin' cardboard sign is goin' to get you my vote because it has the word CHANGE on it.

Hey Tommy. I'm sorry man. I don't mean to get up on a soapbox and rant about politics. I'm just pissed off 'cause I had to chip the ice.

Nope.

2008-01-18T09:15:00.000-05:00

The puppy was gone. Somebody else fell in love with him. We are conflicted. The responsible adults are glad. The dog lovers are sad.

Guess it was not meant to be.

Puppy.

2008-01-17T10:26:00.000-05:00

Not sure, but I think my wife is buying a puppy. She's at the pet store up at the mall right now. We had to go to the mall the other day. We had to return something, and get a couple of work shirts for my wife because she needs a couple more warm shirts to wear at The Plant.

So we run in the pet store, like we always do, to see the puppies, like we always do. It's fun to goof out with the puppies. We never have a problem walking away without buying one. We have two dogs already. We have never bought a dog from a pet store. Our big Shep came from a breeder. The Mutt was free, an ad in the paper that said free puppies.

So we both fell head over heels for this little Cairn Terrier. He's so full of life, and so damn smart. You can tell he's smart, it's in his eyes. So the guy at the store asks us if we want him to open the puppy pen so we can visit with him. My wife says no. It's me who caves in. I say yes. This little dog just won our hearts. You should have seen her holding him. It brought tears to my eyes. When I was holding him, he gave me kisses and I swear he winked at me.

So I'm ready to give the guy a deposit, go back the next day and get him. My wife says no, we really shouldn't do that. We talk in the Jeep on the ride home. We know we shouldn't do this. Well, today she came home from work, washed up and put some clean clothes on. She left saying she had some errands to run. I saw the twinkle in her eye. I know we shouldn't do this. I really hope she comes home with the puppy. The money would come out of our extra "work on this old fixer-upper house fund".

Three dogs? Why the hell not? You only go around once in this life. Nothing wrong with a little crazy and lots of love. We all love dogs in this house. The Westminster dog show is like the Super Bowl here. We tape it. We set up a table in the living room and order pizza. We cook all kinds of stuff and settle in for the four hours worth of canine TV. We all pick our favorites. We yell and cheer. We shout and cry foul when the judging does not go our way. Three dogs?

Yeah, three dogs. It will put a smile on her face. I love to see her smile.

Hey Tommy. Man I am tellin' you bro. This little dog is just full of all the stuff you want to see in a dog. I'm crazy about him. I really hope she gets him. I really hope she doesn't "come to her senses" all of the sudden. Dogs rule. Dogs are so much better than people sometimes. Dogs don't judge. Dogs just love you. Besides, it's a security issue. The Cairn Terrier is supposed to be very alert, an excellent watchdog. I know he's little, won't way more than ten or twelve pounds full grown. Like Toto. Yeah, Toto was a Cairn Terrier. So if he alerts, well that's when the Shep does her thing. Dogs are better than an alarm system. I know, I'm rationalizing. I really hope she comes home with that puppy. They are a Scottish breed, the Cairn Terrier is. I don't care what the girls decide to name him. I'm calling him Angus.

Rip.

2008-01-12T10:23:00.000-05:00

It's just cool. Being able to rip songs from my CD's and put them in a playlist to burn my own custom CD's later. I'm ripping Molly Hatchet right now. Just ripped Zep II a couple minutes ago.

Okay. Now ripping Johnny A. Get Inside is the name of the album. My sister sent it to me for Christmas. It is personally autographed to me. I don't know how she did that. I guess she must have gone to see him play.

I have an old canvas bag full of CD's. I'm going through them this weekend. I'm going to rip what I want and burn myself some good mixes. It's my weekend this weekend. My wife said. She said that I've been working hard. She said that she's not going to ask anything of me this weekend, that I should just chill and do what I want. I do have a project that I've been working on, I would like to work on that. I can't right now though, or rather, I don't want to. I might even have a couple beers later on tonight.

I will be writing, I know that for sure. I am actually going to write some on FictionSquared.blogspot.com.

It's funny. My wife tells me that I've been working hard. She did at least ten hours overtime this week, maybe more. She has breast cancer. She tells me that I've been working hard.

Got my new burn list playing right now. Hip Bone, Johnny A. Too good. I can't stand how good this is. Tony Bennett is next.

Got some exciting stuff going on right now, related to writing. It's all top secret. Getting some help. I really need the help.........This is to weird. Tony Bennett is singing on my computer. It's an old Johnny Mercer song, I Wanna Be Around. Anyway, when I adjusted the volume the last line I had written here went to bold. The font actually turned bold. So, I adjusted the volume again and it went back to its normal look. Too weird.

Oh man. I've got a couple lottery tickets to check. Marshall Tucker, Take The Highway. The Parrot is diggin' it. He's all fired up and happy. Dogs are sleepin'. Younger baby girl is upstairs in her room doin' whatever it is she's doin'. Probably reading or playing video games, or planning on taking over the world. The older baby girl is waiting for her boyfriend to pick her up so they can go to Pittsburgh, see a movie and eat. She says she'll be home late. My wife is sleeping 'cause she worked overtime last night. I have fourteen beers in the fridge. Four bottles of Yuengling Black and Tan. Five cans of Yuengling Lager and five bottles of MGD. These various beers have been accumulating since Thanksgiving. I've had two Black and Tans and one Lager over the last few weeks. My wife had one MGD. Think I'll be puttin' a dent in the stash this weekend. Don't want the beer to go bad. That would a shame. John Prine is tellin' me all about Lake Marie right now. The Italian sausages are sizzlin' on the grill, that's what John Prine just said. Standin' by peaceful waters.

The Dead. Friend Of The Devil. He loaned him twenty bills........I do so love this song. There was a time in my life, a very long time ago, when it seemed likely that I'd be settin' out runnin' too.

The screen door just slammed. Mary is a vision, dancin' across the floor. Thunder Road. Junior High School, 1974/75. I remember when I first heard this song. Still sends chills sometimes. If it catches me just right that is. It just caught me just right......I need a cigarette. My computer is singing, sounds just like Bruce, and I ain't even drinkin' yet.

Oh man. Al Green. He's so tired......Lucinda Williams. Righteously.

I'm just sittin' back. Got my head resting against the wall. What Is And What Should Never Be.
I was seven years old when ZepII came out........It only goes to show........baby baby baby baby.

See, now this is a good song. Gary Allen. Smoke Rings In The Dark. This guy has a great voice. The computer says this song was written by Houston Robert and Rivers Rutherford. How strange. Texas and New Jersey.

That was hard to write because The Allman Brothers were playing Statesboro Blues. Now Molly Hatchet is playing an Allman Brothers song. Dreams I'll Never See. I don't usually like covers. I love this one. My wife says "it rolls". That's how she describes it. She says that about Springsteen's, She's The One also. She likes songs that roll.

I just did a spell check. Blogger says I spelled Allman Brothers wrong. Well, it says I spelled Allman wrong. Brothers I got right.

Ramble On. Led Zeppelin. This song rolls too. I saw Zep at the Garden thirty years ago.

Well. Time to get to work. I've got some writing to do. After that I'm going to work on this hallway, then I'm going to kick back later. Sink a few cold ones.

Stormy Monday. That Duane sure could play the guitar.

Hey Tommy, it's me.

2008-01-08T10:52:00.000-05:00

How you been? I know it's been a little while. Been busy. Hey, I was thinkin' about something. I was thinkin' that maybe you would be votin' for Mr. Obama, if you were votin' that is. I was thinkin' how you never really cared for politics, or politicians. I was thinkin' how you'd probably like this guy. He seems honest. Seems. I saw him interviewed a few months back. One of those stupid TV news magazine shows. Anyway, the reporter asked him about drug use in his youth. He gave an honest answer. It could have cost him but I guess it didn't. Maybe most of us out here in the real world don't give a rat's ass about he smoked a little weed, or snorted a little coke back in the day. It's a stupid question anyway. Now, if some candidate were an active drug user, well that of course would make a difference. Another reason why I'd think you'd like him bro. If this guy is elected president, it would really piss a lot of people off. I know you'd get a kick out that.

Hey Tommy. These morons on TV. They keep talkin' about experience. They keep sayin' that he's got no experience, he's not "qualified" to be president. Well, I checked. The Constitution says that if you want to be president you have be born in this country, and you have to be at least thirty-five years old. Mr. Obama has those qualifications. Anyway, I know you don't care much for politics, or politicians. I just was thinkin', you'd like this guy. If he gets the nod, I'm votin' for him.

Oh, hey Tommy. One other thing man. When I saw that interview? His wife was there. She asked the American people to let her know if they see him smokin' a cigarette. I guess he was supposed to quit smokin'. Seems like maybe he sneaks one every now and then. It just makes him seem a little bit more real to me. I don't know, maybe it's stupid. It's just a little thing, but what the hell else do you have to go by?

Oh man. Hey bro. You got to see The Parrot right now. He's givin' me the evil eye. I gave him some of his favorite treats to keep him quiet and happy so's my wife can sleep 'cause she worked all night. I think he thinks I'm goin' to be tryin' to take it from him. He's a trip, The Parrot is.

Yeah so I called my father back on Sunday like I said. I agreed to go and see him soon. I told him I got to work out the logistics 'cause the Myrtle, our old BMW, ain't runnin' right now. We're sharin' the old Jeep 'til we figure somethin' out, or 'til we get our tax return and maybe I can find me an old beater truck or somethin'. Anyway, he calls me back yesterday and tells me to rent a car. He says he'll pay for it. He says he'll give the rental guy his credit card number over the phone. I guess that works. I guess he's serious about seein' me sooner than later. I guess time is critical.

Still not sure how I feel about all this, just yet. I can't go there if I'm goin' to lose my temper. No sense in yellin' at a dying old man. I don't want to do that. I have to make sure I'm ready to say what needs to be said. I'll say it I guess, even if I don't mean it I'll say it. Isn't that what you're supposed to do? I have talked to my wife about it. She's supportive and cool, like always. I've also talked to Beetus about it. Same thing there. This is somethin' I have to figure out on my own.

The hard part is this Tommy. I don't care about all that shit from when I was a kid. It's the crap he threw at my kids that I can't get over. Like the song says; "Jesus can forgive, but a daddy don't forget." You know what I mean bro?

This is the shit I don't like. None of this is simple. Life really ain't that hard. It's people that make it so hard. I like simple. You know, like I was sayin' before. The Simple.

Catch you later Tommy. Hope all is well where you are. Wherever that is.

Long Distance.

2008-01-04T23:49:00.000-05:00

Received a call this afternoon. It was my father. Haven't spoken in over two years. It never has gone well. This was different. He's dying. You can hear it in his voice. He's dying.

My wife and I were upstairs, the younger baby girl was up there with us. We were moving our bed back into our bedroom. She painted the bedroom. We were hurrying a little, I had to go to work. The phone rang. The machine answered. The phone rang again, the machine answered. When we were done I went downstairs and hit play. His voice is shaky, unsure, confused. He sounds so very old. The first message, he says he wants to talk. The second message, he says "thank you operator". Confused.

My wife smiles at me. She smiles at me with her understanding eyes. She says I should call him back. She stays upstairs with our younger baby girl. I go back down to the kitchen and use the wall phone. I'm already a little late for work. This is important.

So he answers the phone. He sounds surprised to hear it's me. He says he had trouble dialing my number, had to have the operator help him. He says he wants to see me. I've heard that before, but never from him. He says he's glad he called. I tell him I'm glad he called too. I'm really not sure if I am, glad he called. I have to tell him that though, he sounds like he's dying. I'm not that cold.

He says he has Hodgkin's, just finished up with eighteen weeks of chemo. Says his long gray hair and his beard are all gone. He says he went to the barber for a close shave and a buzz cut before it started falling out. He says he didn't want all that falling hair to clog the drains and mess up the washer. It's kind of funny, his long gray hair and the beard. This guy is well past eighty. A WWII vet who gave me nothing but a hard time over my long hair when I was a teen in the seventies.

He says he doesn't go out much these days. Says he only goes to his A.A. meetings twice a week, when he can. He's hooked up to oxygen. He drilled a hole in the floor and ran seventy feet of tubing down to his shop in the basement so he doesn't have to carry one of those bottles around with him while he's working on stuff. His machine provides the 02, and fills up bottles for travel.

I told him I had to go to work. I told him I couldn't talk for very long. He asked me to call him back on Sunday morning, when my mother is at church. I told him I would.

Things were not too busy down on The Dock tonight. I kept trying to keep busy though. I don't want to think too much about all this. I'll call him on Sunday. I'll think about it then. I will go see him as well. I suppose I should, at least once before he's gone.

My family has ghosts in the closet. Old ghosts, and some newer ones too. I don't like the secrets. I don't like the lies. I don't want to talk about any of it any more. It's all over anyway. Too much talking is just that. Too much talking ruins everything.

Sometimes long distance is a very good thing.

Post, Post, One.

2007-12-27T15:17:00.000-05:00

27DEC07. 1519 hrs.

Yeah, so Christmas is over. The tree is still up at our house, will be for as long as possible. Needles are still holding on. I water it every day. It smells so good.

Much has happened around here the last few weeks. Right now I have to go to work, I'll finish this later. I just made rye bread in our new bread maker machine. It came out really good. The younger baby girl and me, we just had some covered in butter. Bread was right out of the pan, steaming when I sliced it. The butter melted like, well it melted like butter. I'll explain more later. Got work to do down on The Dock. I'm going to buy a lottery ticket 'cause it's payday, and I saw a 1967 Scout for sale, good inspection. Later.

28DEC07. 0044 hrs.

Just got home from work. I'm pretty tired. Time for a beer and a cigarette.

28DEC07. 1309 hrs.

Never did have that beer, or that cigarette. Drank a big glass of milk, went to bed.

04JAN08. 1100 hrs.

Have not been here since last year. Wow. Too much to catch up on. Been real busy. Spent the 31st painting our bedroom. My wife does the painting. I'm the helper. Had problems with the computer, security software issues. Got that fixed. Phones here were out last night, must have been the weather. It read five degrees on the bank clock on my way home from The Dock. Warming up some today. Supposed to be close to fifty by Tuesday. I just talked to a tech support guy in the Philippines. He fixed the software problem. He was very nice, very helpful. I can't help but think, how much smaller this Internet thing makes the world. That's a good thing. The Christmas Tree is still up, still lit, still smells great. I'm tired, my wife is too. She worked all night last night. She's out running errands right now. She would work all night then come and paint for half the day. She's been doing this all week. She's great. I'm not worthy. She's been thinking about the next round of surgery. She knows she has to schedule it soon. It's all very scary stuff, she handles it better than I would.

Have to let the dogs out, one at a time. The Big Shep is pacing around, she has to go......Okay, she's outside right now. She will wait at the door when she's done. She won't leave the yard. She's so good that way. The Mutt will go out next. He usually goes first but he was sleeping. She really had to go. The Mutt has to be watched when he's outside. He is so smart, like scary smart. He counts up to four. He barks the numbers. If you say "one" he barks once. If you say "four" he barks four times. If you show him flashcards with the numbers written on them, he barks according to what number he's looking at. He does all kinds of cool stuff on command. Like I was saying, he's real smart, but you can't leave him outside alone, unless you close the gate to the fenced in part of the yard. He'll get himself in trouble.......Okay, I switched dogs. She was standing at the door, waiting to come in. She's a good girl. I had to let him out next, I closed the gate.

I still have to find that one picture I have of my old Shovelhead Glide. The Wide one.

I'm done. I'll write some more stuff later on. Maybe this weekend, maybe not.

PEACE.

2007-12-24T16:25:00.000-05:00

To all...........

May peace, settle over this planet.
May peace, fill our hearts with good cheer.
May peace, take no one for granted.
May peace, settle over this planet.

Yeah, I said the first part twice. It may seem altruistic, but that is my Christmas prayer and I'm stickin' to it. I still have hope for this human race. I ain't that cynical, yet.

Simple.

2007-12-21T10:32:00.000-05:00

That's what I'm missing. The Simple. I always do better with The Simple. If I try to think things out, I just get in trouble. This was never meant to be anything else. It was meant to be basic and skinny, The Simple.

I have to try to write again. I have to re-write that book that I wrote. It really is a good story, it's too damn involved. Got carried away with myself. The Simple needs to be applied.

We were at Ollie's the other day. They have a wall of "Dummies" books. My wife got one. "Breast Cancer For Dummies". She knows she can never know too much about breast cancer. It was kind of sad. The last "Dummies" book she bought was "Birds For Dummies" when we got The Parrot.

She pointed one out to me. "How To Get Your Book Published For Dummies". I got it. I've been reading it. I have made so many mistakes. I'm going to start over. Have to try again. No sense giving up.

First I have to pick up where I left off on FictionSquared.blogspot.com. I also have to finish reading my "Dummies" book. The Simple. Have to apply it every day. The Simple always works, for me.

My wife will be scheduling her next round of surgery soon, after the holidays. They will remove what's left of her right breast. They will remove all of her left breast. Probably more after that, treatment that is.

The shopping is done. We got some nice things for the girls. Santa will be good to them. The Swiss Colony packages arrived. Sausage and cheese. The Petits Fours and candy too. I like the sausage and cheese.

Life is hard enough. The Simple keeps things from getting out of hand.

Hey Tommy. Yeah, The Simple bro, then move on........Hey Tommy, did I tell you my sister sent me an autographed copy of Johnny A's CD?....Yup, it's good stuff. That guy can play the guitar.

I Just Don't Know.

2007-12-18T13:47:00.000-05:00

Where the hell did that last post came from?.....Why would I share that?......Senility......It runs in the family.

No time, have to get ready for work. Just wanted to put that down before I forget.

(Taking the trash out to the alley, taking care of dogs and birds, taking a shower.)

Yeah, so I'm back. Got the ice chipped and scraped off the front steps this morning. Spent some time talking with my wife. She stayed up for a bit, after her overnight shift at the plant, to do some Christmas cards. We were talking about stuff. She's hot.

The Parrot is swinging from his favorite toy. He just stopped and looked at me. Now he's swinging from his favorite toy again. I have to go soon. I have to pick up the younger baby girl down at the bus stop after school. We'll have a little time together, then I have to go to work. She's still doing well in school. Straight "A's".

Time is passing and I can't stop it......I want to save all the perfect moments......I once wished I could change my life......I don't feel that way anymore......Spin around.......Spin around.......Spin around.......

The older baby girl is over in Jersey with her boyfriend. They called from Rockefeller Center before. They had to see the tree. He's never been to New York. She said he loves it. They are with family, it's all good.

What we say, what we do, sometimes hides how we feel......I'm afraid of being afraid.....Franky was right.

So, as I sit here and write this I'm still wondering why I would share that story from the previous post. I think I'm thinking too much. In my case that can be dangerous because I'm not that smart to start with. I'm not fishing for assurances here, it's true. I am kind of stupid. Knowing that is a strength I think....................See? There I go again. Now that makes no sense on so many levels, yet I know what I'm talking about.

Now I really do have to go. Don't worry, I'll be back.

Down That Road.

2007-12-16T09:54:00.000-05:00

Hey Tommy. I have to find that picture, the one of you and me. I was thinkin' 'bout maybe scanning it in here, puttin' those black lines 'cross our faces. I know we're covered with cammo paint but still.

Hey, you remember my '81 Softail Shovel? I want to find the only picture I have of that bike. That was my favorite bike. Sometimes I miss that old Shovel. I don't regret sellin' it bro. You know why. I don't think you were there the day Ivan took that picture. Yeah, you were already gone at that point. That was a good day.

So this guy I would go to when I needed work done on my bike, stuff I couldn't do myself, he was a good guy. Probably still is, I just ain't seen him in more than fifteen years. He's a Nam vet, rode with a certain well known motorcycle club and ran a custom chopper shop. It was a nice old grungy hole in the wall. He had a Rottweiler, big as a truck. That dog wouldn't let you behind the counter if C was out back in the shop. Good dog. I think C liked me. I accidently bounced a check with him once and he called down to Pete's bar lookin' for me. I went right over there and payed him cash to cover the bill. I offered him extra in case my bounced check had cost him any bank fees or anything like that. He said it hadn't. I always payed him cash after that. He liked the fact that I had been in the service. He liked the fact that I didn't "act like a cop" when I was off duty. He liked that I rode year round, rain, snow, whatever.

I know he did some federal time because he told me. It was years before I ever knew him. I know he rode with that well known, somewhat notorious motorcycle club because he told me. I never judged him on any of it. We didn't hang out, except maybe a little at his shop when I needed parts, or like I was sayin', some work done. I know he fired a guy who was dealin' a little weed at the shop. I don't think C cared so much about the guy smokin' a little gish, or sellin' some to his friends, but C ran a business. He didn't want that goin' on at his place of business. He told me about that too. I agreed with him. First you get your work done, then you pay your bills, then maybe you party on the weekend. You don't jeopardize another man's livelihood, dealin' grass at their shop.

One day, out of the blue, he asked me if I could get him a cold piece. He figured maybe somethin' I took out of a car on a motor vehicle stop, somethin' like that. That time I did ask him some questions. He said some guys from his past were maybe goin' to give him a hard time. He said all I had to do was leave the pistol in his truck, so there wouldn't be any direct contact between us involving the gun. I told him I'd think about it. I never went back there.

Not long ago I was over in Jersey visiting. I took a ride in my old Jeep and drove past his place. It's got a second story built onto it now. It's all fancy and high end lookin'. I guess he's doin' okay, probably sellin' over priced chrome ponies to yuppies who ride on Labor Day weekend and shit like that. I guess whatever problems he was expecting from those guys in his past didn't come to fruition. The other thing I'm thinkin' is maybe someone was trying to set me up. I know that there were some other cops who didn't like me. I didn't "act like a cop". I didn't walk around all puffed out lookin' to write a million tickets. I didn't get all involved with the PBA. I still hung around with some of my old friends. I liked to ride my Harley and I didn't really care for the police motorcycle club.

I sure hope that wasn't the case. I'd hate to think that C would be involved in trying to set me up. I never did nothin' to him. I never betrayed a confidence. If he got into a legal jam however, well who knows what people will do to save their own asses.

I was surprised when he asked me about a gun that day. Maybe I should have reported it. Like I said, I never went back there. I never did go down that road. I'm glad I didn't.

Catch you later Tommy.

Drifting.

2007-12-14T13:49:00.000-05:00

Away.

14DEC07 1350 hrs.

With all that's going on, with cancer in the house, I detach. I find myself, at times, farther away from where I should be. I know it's not my thing. I tell myself that it's not my thing, every day.

I look at her face, sometimes I don't hear a word she's saying. I know that happens, but this is different. It's hard to explain. How can you describe something that you don't understand?

That picture was taken in 1978. I was 16. It's me and one of my bikes. It reminds me of those Star Trek scenes where they can't get the transporter to work. Kind of how I feel sometimes lately.

I'm going to stop for now. I'm going to come back to this later. All I have to do is click the blue in color box at the bottom of this screen. The box that reads "SAVE NOW". The box will actually appear to click in, like a real button on a tape recorder or something. It's all fake. It's not a real button. It's barely two dimensional and it exists only in this cyberspace. Were it real, were this computer thing as powerful as we'd all like to believe then I could click "SAVE NOW" and it would. It would save her. It would save her from this cancer. It would save her from the surgeon's life, body, and soul altering scalpel.

To the left of the blue in color "SAVE NOW" button is an orange in color button that reads "PUBLISH POST". I think I'll click that one. I'm not even going to click the spell check button first. Forget about all of it.

Trees, Christmas, Four.

2007-12-10T09:41:00.000-05:00

So we went to the nursery on Saturday and got a nine foot tree. It was a little better than nine foot I think. We have nine foot eight inches from the base of the tree stand to the ceiling. We only trimmed a little bit off the top after the tree was in place. It's a nice big fat tree. The lights went on yesterday. Nine hundred little white lights. The gold in color plastic pearl looking beads were draped around it. The big red velvety bow with the four long velvety red ribbons that hang down, sectioning the tree into quarters was hung at the very top. All of the smaller red velvety bows were strategically placed about the tree.

We talked about her cancer on Saturday.

The older baby girl worked 'til nine last night. The boyfriend picked her up and they came here. The younger baby girl, the older baby girl and her boyfriend, and of course my wife proceeded to hang all the ornaments. The Elvis Christmas CD was playing. All the Christmas CD's were playing. I was assembling one of the three artificial trees that will also be displayed throughout the house. Like I was saying, my wife loves Christmas.

I wanted to cry.

So all of the other decorations are up as well. Most of them anyway. The dining room looks great. The garland and lights adorning the drapes, all that good stuff. Ten large plastic bins came down from the attic. Six of them are back upstairs, empty. The rest will be addressed throughout the work week.

She went to work last night, like always on Sunday night. Midnight to eight. I did cry after she left. My daughter wanted to help clear the table, do some dishes. I told her no. I told her I got it. I didn't want her to see me cry.

I just took a break. Coffee and a cigarette. This guy on the radio says that my liver is working overtime this holiday season. He wants me to buy a liver product I guess. Some kind of supplement. How bizarre. Don't forget your liver this Christmas.

So I pretty much cried myself to sleep last night. Like a sniveling baby. I guess it had to be done. I'm so glad she didn't see that. Like I've been told, it's not about me. I can't have her seeing that. We had such a good weekend together. We accomplished so much. On Saturday I went and rented the carpet cleaning machine. She likes to steam the carpets and rugs before we decorate. It's a tradition. I returned it on Sunday. I was listening to the Allman Brothers on my way back to the store. I listened to that song "Wasted Words". I listened to "Trouble No More".

We talked about her cancer again on Sunday.

I know this is all out of order. Chronologically speaking and all. I guess that's what happens. I cleaned The Love Bird's cage on Saturday, while my wife did almost everything else.

Last night, when my wife was leaving for work, I walked her out to the Jeep like I always do on Sunday nights. I had the Jeep running. It was nice and warm for her. She had been saying earlier how she just doesn't feel good. When she got in the Jeep she gave me her winning smile. She told me how she had a really good weekend. She gave me a sweet little kiss. The sweetest kind of kiss. She told me that she loves me with that kiss.

Now I'm wanting to cry again. Now I'm thinking too much. Now I have to go.

Geo. Not The Metro.

2007-12-06T15:58:00.000-05:00

So the younger baby girl is participating in the Geo Bee this evening. It will be televised live on the local public access cable channel. We don't have cable, we have a dish. A friend of mine from work is taping it for me, he has cable.

The Geography Bee. I didn't know they had those. I was in a spelling bee once. I think it was third grade. I was eliminated in the early rounds, the word that got me was cat or something.

The little baby girl said that during the elimination rounds leading up to her winning a spot on the team of five, she guessed at the last question, and she got it right. Well, she didn't really guess, not like I would guess. The question was, which state has the most seats in the U.S. Congress? She figured it was either Texas or California. She went with the latter because she figured California has the larger population. She was right. Well, I don't see that as guessing. That's more of an educated guess if you ask me.

I'm taking off from work tonight, I won't get payed but I'm taking off anyway. My wife agrees. Actually it was her idea. I'm going to sit and proudly watch my very smart little girl take part in the Geo Bee. My wife can't go because she has to be in at midnight. She has fourteen hours overtime so far this week. She doesn't want to lose any of that and I don't blame her. At my job we get OT after eight, at hers it's after forty hours. Christmas is coming and she wants to make it as nice as we can for the girls. I know she wants to go. She's doing what she feels is best because she is the best.

[I have to run for now. More about this later: 1620 hours.]

2034 hours. We just got back, the younger baby girl and I. I have to leave in about twenty minutes to pick up the older baby girl at work. She went to work this afternoon, right after she finished classes up at the college for the day. She's almost done with school for this fall semester. One week to go, finishes up finals on the fifteenth, a week from Saturday. She'll be taking the spring off, starting classes at art school in Pittsburgh in the fall.

Yeah, so, this Geo Bee. We had no idea. It's the National Geographic Society Geography Bee. They started this thing about twenty years ago, to promote geography in the schools. The over all winner from each school can then take a written test to see if they qualify for the state level competition to be held in the spring. Winners from the states go to Washington D.C. shortly after for the national Geo Bee, hosted by Alex Trebek. I really hope I'm spelling his name correctly. Alex Trebek is not a name you want to spell wrong, no what I mean?

So, like I was saying. We had no idea. My daughter didn't know, the permission slip I signed didn't say anything about this being a National Geographic sponsored event. Wow, the questions started out pretty easy, they got real hard real fast. It was kids from all three grades at the middle school. She did well but she didn't make it to the next round. It doesn't matter at all. I was so proud to see her up on that stage. We went out for something to eat afterwords. We laughed and she had hot chocolate and ice cream. I had coffee and pie. Boston cream. Good.

She's determined now. She figures she'll get a shot again next year. She's going to read every issue of National Geographic cover to cover every month when it shows up here at the house. It seems that if you win the national Geo Bee, you get a twenty-five thousand dollar scholarship. She says to me over dessert, she says;

"I could use that twenty-five thousand dollar scholarship".

[Have to run again. Have to put some gas in the old Jeep and get my daughter at the store]

Okay. 2117. I'm back. I have to go again, the older baby girl needs this computer to finish a paper. It's fifteen degrees outside. Too friggin' cold for me. The neighbor's dog is stuck to the fence with his leg in the air and a frozen stream of urine securing him to the galvanized chain link. I better go over there with a bucket of hot water, or the oxy-acetylene torch, or both.

2154 hours. The neighbor's dog is safe. I guess the neighbor has a set of torches too. The older baby girl never did sit down at the computer to work on that paper that's sooooo important. She's busy yelling at the boyfriend. She's on her cell phone, he's at school in his dorm, he goes to a different school than she does. He's about an hour away. So she's yelling at him. I tell her to fight nice. I have no idea what's going on. She gives me that look. So I ask her if she wants I should kick his ass. She says yes, with an evil grin. I look at my watch, scratch my head as if I'm trying to make a plan, for kicking his ass. I say tonight's not good for me. I ask her to ask him what's good for him. I leave her alone. They are talking now, I think. I don't hear her yelling anymore.

The younger baby girl is off to sleep now. She has her Zen music meditation CD playing quietly in the background. I just woke my wife up, she asked for another half-hour. She didn't get to sleep 'til late this afternoon. She was up and running to the store, picking out an outfit for the younger baby girl to wear to the Geo Bee. The younger baby girl hasn't gotten any new clothes in quite some time. My wife wanted her to feel confident for the Geo Bee. She was stoked to get some new clothes. She felt totally confident. She had a good time.

Now I'm signing off. The older baby girl is crying on the phone. I can hear her in the living room right now. I don't know why she's crying, but if that boyfriend upsets her I will kick his ass for real. At least I'll want to kick his ass. She can handle that stuff. She's nineteen. It's her life. If she asks me to I will though. Kick his ass that is. I hope she doesn't ask me to, 'cause I really like him. He's a good kid. She won't ask me too, she's not like that. If she asks me to I will though, kick his ass that is.

Hey Tommy. I checked the program they handed out at the Geo Bee tonight. Hey bro, guess what?......I spelled his name right, that's what.......Alex Trebek, I spelled it right......Yeah well, I'm excited.....Yeah, she's still sobbing a little and talking. I can't hear the words but it don't sound angry.......Yes I would. You know I would. I wouldn't want to, and I probably won't but hell yes I would.....Okay, maybe I wouldn't kick his ass. I tell you one thing Tommy, I sure would call him some names though.....Later man.

Keep It.

2007-12-05T13:33:00.000-05:00

Went to the store yesterday. Me and the older baby girl. Had orders to purchase photo storage boxes. My wife has been organizing her pictures lately. She takes a lot of pictures. She takes some great pictures. She has a real eye for that sort of thing. She's very visual.

So, my daughter went with me. She was a big help, I didn't get the wrong thing. We also purchased a half dozen washcloths and some spoons. Just spoons. We got twelve of your standard spoon, nothing fancy, just spoons. My wife made that request. Like I was saying, I wasn't about to get into the whole flatware thing again.

One of the guys at work had a heart attack. He's three years younger than me. He's been dealing with high blood pressure for quite some time. He's in very good shape. His father died young, early fifties I think. I guess it runs in the family. He's okay now. He had surgery, they installed these tubes, or shunt type things to keep his arteries open. They say he's coming back to work next week, light duty.

It's snowing and cold. I have to go buy some salt to throw on the steps out front, and the walk out back to the alley.

My wife mentioned her breast cancer for the first time in some time this morning. She's thinking about it a lot. She knows she has to schedule the additional needed surgery. It's good that she's thinking about it. I think about it all the time. I don't bring it up unless she does. It's her thing, I have to let her lead the way.

We saw the articles about overnight shift work and breast cancer. That really sucks. She's been working steady overnight shifts for well over a year now. She's been thinking about it a lot, like I was saying.

My best friend is getting a divorce. He was handed papers yesterday. It's sad. He's upset. He needs to see a lawyer.

Sometimes I really don't like winter.

Flat. Where?

2007-11-29T14:13:00.000-05:00

Never buy the flatware. Words to live by......

Two years after we married we bought our first house in Warren County, New Jersey. Shortly after we moved in my wife said we should get a matching set of flatware. The knives, forks and spoons that we were using came from a variety of mismatched sources. She figured, since we were now homeowners, that we should have a set of matching knives, forks and spoons. I agreed. Things were hectic, having just moved, a baby on the way, you know the deal. She didn't get around to picking out a set of flateware right away.

So, a couple of months passed, our younger daughter was born, we had our first Christmas in our own house. One day I find myself across the bridge in Stroudsburgh Pennsylvania at the new Wal-Mart Super Center. Wal-Mart was a relatively new, and still exciting experience for us at the time. We had not yet begun to despise Wal-Mart, or the Wal-Martians who lurk in the aisles there.

Where was I? Oh yeah, flatware.....Yeah, so I'm over the bridge at the Wal-Mart and I accidentally, believe me it was an accident, walk down the housewares aisle and I see sets of flatware on display. Oh boy, I think to myself. This will be great! I'll get her that new flatware that she mentioned. Needles to say, not one of my better ideas.

It's like this, okay? If "Real Men Don't Eat Quiche", then real men definitely should not buy flatware. Just so you know, I had to do spell check on both quiche, and flatware. I had them both wrong. So you can imagine my wife's surprise, read shock and horror, at the flatware pattern that I chose. I got the one that was on sale. I guess it was on sale for a reason.

I'm only bringing this up because I think we might need new flatware, again. In the dozen years that have gone by since the "Flatware Incident", the flatware set has deteriorated through sheer attrition.

It's mostly the spoons. The spoons get packed in lunches for work and school. The spoons get thrown in the trash by accident after the school or work lunch is consumed. The spoons also, sometimes, end up standing in the garbage disposal drain. The spoons are usually damaged when a less attentive person (me) then activates said garbage disposal unit. It makes one hell of a sound. It's almost as if the spoons cry out in agony, there little spoon heads spinning at a high rate of speed while the very sharp blades attempt to shred them into little tiny spoon pieces. A tragedy really.

So, this afternoon, while emptying the dishwasher I noticed that we are down to two spoons. The regular size tea spoons, the spoons you eat your cereal with. We have plenty of the larger soup spoons, the table spoon size spoons. I'm really the only one who uses the larger spoons. It's easier to shovel large amounts of food into my big mouth with the larger spoons.

So I'm thinking we should probably get some new flatware. I'm thinking that it would be best if I don't say nothin' about it. I'm thinking that I don't want to know from the flatware. I'm thinking that the only "flat" I need concern myself with is the flat spot on top of my square head.

I did buy two boxes of disposable plastic spoons for work and school lunches. I know it's not very ecological of me but I really don't care. I am not getting involved with flatware. I hope Mother Nature can forgive me my transgression in this one particular area.

The plastic spoons don't last too long in the garbage disposal.

Saturday. Blue. One.

2007-11-24T19:04:00.000-05:00

So I'm home alone. My wife and the younger baby girl are over in Jersey visiting family. The older baby girl stayed here, she has to work all weekend at the store. I saw her last night when she came in. I saw her for a little bit this morning before she went to work. She just left with her boyfriend.

The sky just lit up. The house just shook. BOOM, POP, BOOMBOOMPOPBOOM...........Heart races for a second.......... I remember now..........They shoot off fireworks here, the Saturday after Thanksgiving they shoot off fireworks down in the park.

Last week I bought a pay-as-you-go type cell phone, a TracFone. I wanted my wife to have it with her for the drive to Jersey, just in case. I set it all up. I activated the phone on the TracFone website, I added the airtime minutes and charged the battery. So on Thanksgiving I had to go to the store for some last minute grocery type stuff. I'm standing by the spice display rack looking for ground cinnamon and I hear this ringing sound. I'm thinking to myself, do they have some kind of spice rack display alarm here? Then I'm thinking, no, that makes no sense. I'm thinking maybe that ringing sound is part of the song that's being piped in over the store's sound system. I'm thinking about how bad that is, and who would add a phone ringing to a pop song. I'm thinking about how I just don't get it, all this new music. I'm thinking about how much better the world would be if The Alllman Brothers were still on the top forty charts.........That's when I realized that it's my pocket that's ringing. I brought the TracFone to the store with me in case my wife thought of something else she needed while I was there.

So I'm fumbling with the phone, flipping it open, saying "hello" repeatedly. I'm thinking she must have hung up so I'm dialing the house, not realizing that she's still on the line listening to the beeps as I attempt to call her back. She hangs up. I hang up. I call her again and she answers, we laugh at my lack of technical knowledge. I'm so damn analog.

We had Thanksgiving dinner. It was the best, like always. Friday morning came and they left, eastbound for Jersey. It's only been a day and I miss them so much.

There was a time in my life when I cherished solitude. There was a time when I embraced loneliness. That was all before the whirlwind of crazy in love ripped open the doors bringing light and laughter into my solitude........ Loneliness can't stand up to that. The day I met her was the day I truly began to live. The baby girls multiply that by numbers so high you can't count them.

I don't want to dwell. I just can't get away from it. She has breast cancer. Early stages, treatable yes, but still it's cancer.

My gut takes a turn all on it's own.

I'm so damn scared. I stumble, I fumble. It's always there. I'm so damn scared.

Her favorite song is Silent Lucidity.

When we first met she laughed because I went to the 7-11 to buy groceries.

She wears Poison. She sprays it in front of her then walks through it.

When we first met I used to eat at my friend's tavern every Thursday. That was meatloaf day.

She loves Christmas.

Before we met, pizza and a Star-Trek marathon made for a perfect Saturday night.

She thinks Jack Black is hot.

Long rides on my old Harley. Bars I'd never been to before. No one to laugh with.

When she says she loves me she means it. My heart soars when she says she loves me.

I don't want to go back there. I want to know for sure. I want to know that she's going to beat this cancer. This world is a much better place because she's here. Our baby girls are who they are because she's here.

Hey Tommy. Something tells me that you know what I'm talking about. Something tells me that you know the truth. Something tells me that you ain't planning on sharing the truth with me. Would it break the rules if you did? Would you get in trouble?......Maybe it's just not done. Maybe it's never been done........Hey Tommy, I've never really asked you for anything, and forget about that fifty bucks. I've never asked you for anything so real.......Can you let me know?

Hey Tommy. Guess who just called? That's right bro. I feel better already. She needed a recipe, I read it to her from her recipe card file thing. Guess she's cooking for her father and her brothers and her sister. Sounds like they're having a real good time. She told me to call her back in like forty-five minutes......The last thing she said to me was, "I love you".

SOARING!

Do The Chicken?

2007-11-17T11:40:00.000-05:00

She was up all night. It's normal, she works the midnight shift. I got home about 2345 last night. She woke shortly after. I took my after work shower while she drank some coffee. We talked for a bit, then I crashed. I got up a little after eight this morning, she was just coming in from an early morning run to the grocery store. The kitchen was immaculate, all the laundry was done.

We hung out, drank coffee and made fun of the dogs. She told our younger baby girl to get The Parrot out of his cage so he could hang out with us too. I gave the older baby girl a ride to the pharmacy, she's working nine 'til five today. The Parrot hung out on the counter, playing with the measuring spoons.

She's back at the store, more stuff needed for the eat fest that is this coming Thursday. We got our turkey yesterday, it was free. Her company gives out certificates for turkeys to all employees. They also have a payed holiday break from Thursday through next Tuesday. Monday is Opening Day, rifle/deer season here in Pennsylvania. It's big doin's and the schools are closed and most people don't go to work anyway. Most companies just give everyone the day off. I'm off too, down at The Dock.

The Christmas decorations will come down from the attic this week. She so loves Christmas. She so loves being home with her children, and me I guess, and the birds, and the dogs, and the music and the food. Christmas means it's time to bust out the Christmas With Elvis CD, along with all the other Christmas music, but Elvis is my favorite. No matter what ends up in the CD player, (It holds five CD's, it's an older model) Elvis is always there.

She has had several good days in a row now. She says she feels like, maybe, she's getting used to it. She is getting to be good friends with the new lady at The Plant. They really seem to hit off. They exchanged e-mail addresses. My wife ran in to her at the store this morning. She met her husband too, says he's a good guy. She says her friend's husband has gray hair in a ponytail, seems around my age, thinks maybe we'd get along too. That's cool.

She signed up for a Roth I.R.A. at her work. The Plant matches funds up to three percent, then a percentage after that. It works out to four dollars for every five, not bad. She said she gave the financial guy a hard time. I say so what, he's makin' money off of her hard earned dollars, he can answer her questions and deal with her healthy skepticism. She says she asked him what his cut was. She asked him what's in it for him. He's talkin' all about how great this is for her, like he's doing her a favor or something, so she called him on it. Good for her.

Too many people think they can pull that sales crap on you, win you over with their fake enthusiasm and practiced smile. Nothing wrong with this guy puttin' some scratch in his pocket when he signs people up for these deals, that's his job and he's got to earn a living too. Just don't act like it's anything more than that. Don't act like you've dedicated your life to helping press operators at the powdered metal plant secure a future in retirement for themselves. Nothing wrong with liking your job. He may actually feel that way. He may enjoy helping people out, but he ain't doin' it for nothing.

We have been scammed too many times. It's taken a while but we have figured out that you can't assume everyone else is coming from an honest place, just because you are. Maybe that's what they mean about, life begins at forty. You don't tolerate cheesy car salesmen. You despise insurance companies who take your money yet try their best to avoid holding up their end of the contract. Slick people wearing the business uniform, preying on the rest of us. If they can't, or won't answer a question then they don't get our business. If they want to get all offended, tough shit. If they want to get angry, then to quote Roscoe Rules from The Choir Boys;

"Knee drop 'em, and make 'em do the chicken".

Figuratively, or literally if need be................I'm still not sure what that means exactly, I just like the way it sounds.

Yeah, we are at a point in our lives where we don't have time to play games with stupid people. My wife has cancer. We don't know what's coming next. Try to get the most out of every day. Try to avoid stupid people, and if we can't then we take a stand.

It turns out that this financial advisor guy is a good guy, or seems to be at least, for now. He answered her questions. She said he was pretty straight forward with her. That's a good thing. Not enough of that in this world.

Hey Tommy. Yup, I heard that....I don't know if I'm going out to The Camp this year. I have to see what's going on, you know?.................Exactly bro.......That's exactly what I'm sayin'. She's too important. Like I was sayin' man, everythings changed......Man, I do so love this woman.........Yeah, catch you later.

It Just Is.

2007-11-12T14:29:00.000-05:00

No school today, for the younger baby girl. The older baby girl has classes. So as I write this, The Parrot is hanging upside down. He's ringing his cowbell toy, he's all fired up. The younger baby girl is in the next room watching cartoons. I just heard the theme song to Top Cat.

Phone just rang, it's for the younger baby girl.

So I had to run two errands today. First stop was the smoke shop where I bought a bag of Black Jack tobacco and some tubes. I make my own cigarettes, it's a lot cheaper that way. Second stop was the one stop for everything gas station/convenience store for milk. I bought a lottery ticket also. It was an impulse buy. I haven't bought a lottery ticket in almost a month.

It's raining, kind of nasty out. I popped a CD into the CD player in the old Jeep on my way to the smoke shop. The Allman Brothers. Stormy Monday. It wasn't intentional, it just happens to be Monday and stormy.

Ups and downs. Lefts and rights. Strange weekend. We stayed up all night on Saturday, my wife and I. We watched a show about Humpback Whales. We watched a good movie. We ate cake and ice cream at five-thirty in the morning.

Earlier that evening we were talking about financial stuff. Scary student loans, intrusive disclosure statements all related to the older baby girl attending art school. She'll be transferring from our local campus after she finishes out this fall semester. So it's mind boggling stuff.

"Well, it's a distraction from all this other stuff".

That's what I said to my wife while I motioned towards her with a wave of my hand. I didn't think much about it. Later on she told me how much that hurt her. I didn't mean to hurt her. My wife is not the type of person to make something out of nothing. She is not so easily hurt, not so easily offended. If she says something hurt her feelings, it's the real deal.

I felt bad. I still feel bad. It was a stupid thing to say. It's all still very fresh. It's all still very new. It's all still overwhelming.

In waves. It comes in waves. No rhyme or reason. No time to prepare. It comes in waves.

Everything is changing. I have to change with it. When I went out with the guys from work a couple weeks ago I was supposed to call her for a ride. I never called. I just showed up at home around 0230. I should not have done that. Last year it would not have mattered so much. I don't go out often. This year it's different. She really needs me. Now she has breast cancer. Everything is changing. I have to change too.

It rolls up like a tsunami from the otherwise calm. It rolls. No time to prepare. She doesn't know when. She's really not sure. It just rolls over her.

I have to be there always, not just be there but really be there. She has always been the very cool wife. She has never given me a hard time about going out to my friends camp for opening day. She was happy when I went to the dirt track races this past summer and ate too many chili dogs. She knows that once a year, after inventory week, all the guys from down on The Dock go out for beers. But like I was saying, everything is changing. She needs me to be more than I've been. She needs to be able to rely on me, like never before. I can't keep fumbling through with my half-ass grin and an "I'm sorry baby".

When it's time to take The Parrot out of his cage you place your hand against his belly and say "step up". I have to step up now too.

She was talking to a woman she knows, a woman who's been through this. This woman said she'd just bust out in tears for no reason. She could be at work. She could be making a sandwich, she'd just burst, and cry.

It comes out of nowhere. No rhyme, no reason. It just is what it is.

It just is.

Nope.

2007-11-09T09:59:00.001-05:00

It didn't work. the printer cartridge refill-it-yourself kit didn't work. Our printer is almost ten years old. We have a new computer that we bought two years ago 'cause the girls really need it for school. These days it's essential. Never did buy a new printer. Need to do that now. They both have papers that have to be turned in this coming week. The older baby girl has a paper due for her religions class at college. The younger baby girl has a book report due on Tuesday up at the middle school. They have completed their papers. We just need to print them out.

I was going to do a little work on the old Jeep this week. It will have to wait 'til next week. School is the priority in this house. The new printer is the priority this week.

The older baby girl was accepted at the art school. She's excited. If all goes well she will be leaving just after the first of the coming new year. She will live on campus. It's very expensive. She's very smart and talented. She will get some help from the school, the rest will be covered by student loans. We are going to help her as much as we can. I love her so much. We are so proud of her. Her high school G.P.A. was 3.8, I can't relate to 3.8..........I think my high school G.P.A. was around a 2 or something.

Her little sister will miss her. They are very close. They will e-mail and talk on the phone I'm sure. The younger baby girl will hang out in her big sister's room, just to give it that "lived in look" that teenagers seem to be so comfortable with.

Yesterday I was crying about the National Debt. Today I feel stupid. No sense crying about what you can't change. No sense crying at all, it doesn't help. Crying just clouds your vision.

Worked some overtime last night. When I got home there was a note on the kitchen counter. She wanted me to put the meatloaf away. It was right out of the oven and too hot to throw in the fridge before she had to leave. She made meatloaf before she went in for her shift. I'm the only one in the house who really loves meatloaf. She makes meatloaf for me. She makes really good meatloaf. It was difficult to put it in the fridge without sampling some. I was strong. I did not partake. Today will be different. I'm going to have some for lunch. I'm going to bring some to work with me tonight. We eat lunch at half past eight on our second shift.

She's not crying today. She's on the phone with a friend right now. She's laughing. It's so damn good to hear her laugh.

She knows that she has to have more surgery. She knows that it will be hard. I will be home with her when it's time to remove the dressings. We won't make that mistake again. Who knew? It's not like somebody told us what to expect. My advice to anyone who faces a similar situation is this. Do not be alone. Make sure you are sitting down. Be prepared, as prepared as anyone can be, to be hit with a sledgehammer.

The doctor says that the double mastectomy may mean she can avoid chemotherapy. She knows that losing her hair would be the worst, for her. It's almost like she'd rather lose her breasts than her hair. If she ever does need chemo, I'm going to shave my head too. I wear it buzzed to less than half an inch now. I will take it right down to the skin if that happens.

Maybe I'll grow my hair out, donate it to Locks Of Love. Probably not a good idea. Anybody want some forty-five year old graying blondish hair that smells like Marlboro smoke, beer and hydraulic oil?

Hey Tommy. I was thinking about you the other day. I was thinking about the time when I wrecked that old Sportster. I was pretty lucky that night. A couple inches either way when I hit that tree and I wouldn't be here, or I'd be pressing these keys with a pencil in my mouth........
Yeah bro, that was a hell of a night........It should be me. It shouldn't be her.

Cash.

2007-11-08T13:11:00.000-05:00

It all comes down to money.

We are very lucky to have good insurance as part of my police retirement package. What about all those people who don't?

I am trying to land a position as a full time tractor trailer driver down on The Dock. I have my class A CDL and a good medical card. If I'm able to get the new job it will mean almost twice what I'm earning now. That would mean my wife would able to worry less about money and more about getting better.

She needs more surgery. It's called a bilateral, or double mastectomy. Recovery time will be longer than the first time. They called this first round a lumpectomy. It was more than that. Once they looked inside, they discovered more than they thought they would. They actually removed so much tissue that they might as well have taken the whole breast.

She is upset. A couple of good days followed by some not so good days. It hurts her, she has pain in her right breast and she's still going to work every night. She started back this week. She doesn't think she'll be able to do the overtime on Saturday. I'm glad she's not going to. Knowing her, she still might.

I don't want her working in the powdered metal plant anymore. It's not my place to tell her what to do, but I did tell her how I feel. I don't think it's a healthy environment. I don't think it's conducive to a healthy recovery. I hope I get this new position. I never heard back from the railroad, oh well. I hope I get this new position so that she can work part time around the younger baby girl's school schedule and be home with her more than she is now.

The doctor says expect the worst. The doctor says prepare for the worst so that we are not blindsided by this cancer. Well, expecting the worst. The more time she can spend with the girls the better. Know what I mean?

She's angry. She's determined. I'm determined to back her up all the way.

My wife says they have free mammograms available for those who can't afford it. Her point is this. Then what? What does the woman who has no insurance do when her mammogram results harbor bad news?

I heard on the news this morning where Congress and the President agreed to raise the National Debt level to nine trillion dollars........Nine trillion dollars........Assholes.

It all comes down to money.

Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That's what we here in this country are guaranteed. The only time I've heard that said lately is on those Cadillac ads. They drop the ending. They drop the "of happiness" part. They just say "the pursuit" part.

So if we can buy a new Cadillac then we're guaranteed these things? I don't want a new Cadillac. I want to see my wife beat cancer. I want the older baby girl to be able to continue her pursuit as she prepares to attend art school in the spring semester. I want both of our girls to be able to spend as much time with their mother as time will allow.

Nine trillion dollars in debt. Three bucks a gallon for gas. Natural gas prices going through the roof. Electricity rates about to be deregulated. It's like these idiots in charge really want to return to those long lost days when they ruled over us. They don't want to serve their fellow man. They just want run the show while the rest of us foot the bill.

Nine trillion dollars. How come I can't go to the bank and borrow more money than I will ever be able to pay back? How come I can't go to the bank and borrow money that I don't have to pay back because it will be paid back by other hard working people? Oh yeah, I forgot. I didn't go to college and learn how to be smart like they all did...........Assholes.

Don't hand me that Democrat versus Republican thing. They all did it. They all continue to do it. They will all continue to do it and nothing will ever change...............Assholes.

She's sleeping now. I just used one of those refill-it yourself printer cartridge kits and I'm waiting for it to set up. Both of the girls need to print out stuff for school. I saved over forty bucks doing it this way. I sure hope it works. If it doesn't, maybe Congress can send me printer cartridges that they bought for the Pentagon. They probably pay five hundred bucks for what I can get downtown for fifty.

Nine trillion dollars in debt. There ain't enough overtime available to pay that off.....................

ASSHOLES!

Bleeding.

2007-11-06T14:31:00.000-05:00

My favorite Stones song is Let It Bleed. I always liked it more for the music than the lyrics. It's got that bluesy old school rock and roll thing going on. I love the guitar licks.

It's still my favorite Stones song. The lyrics mean more to me now. Some of them hurt, but that's okay.

She went back to work Sunday night. Midnight 'til eight on Monday morning. They hired someone new while she was out on medical leave. The new hire is a woman who has a pet rabbit trained to use a litter box. Very cool indeed. My wife seems to be hitting it off with this new lady. That's good, they seem to have a lot in common. My wife says the new girl is not nosey. She doesn't get all intrusive about things. That's very good 'cause we are private people.

I let the younger baby girl stay home from school today. She had an orthodontist appointment at 1300. It snowed here for the first time today. Nothing sticking, still a little too warm for that. Before her appointment we went and bought a fishbowl, two little goldfish and some goldfish flakes. We got blue glass marbles for the fishbowl. If these fish survive and grow some, we'll get a twenty gallon tank with a filter.

Years ago we had a goldfish who lived 'til he was twelve. He was almost a foot long. My wife got him for ten cents when she was seventeen. He was already pretty big when I met him. We put him in a thirty gallon tank, then a fifty-five gallon tank. He died one year when a big storm knocked the power out for three days. I guess no filter and no 02 put too much of a strain on his old system. I always took real good care of that tank. It was spotless. Crystal clear water, no algae, no smell.

So she wants goldfish. She wants to try again. I'm up for that.

Mister Cairo.

2007-11-04T12:24:00.000-05:00

I received an e-mail from England. That's a first for me. It seems that these good people at a website called http://www.postoftheweek.com/ selected one of my posts as Post Of The Week. The post they selected is titled New Tears. 20OCT07.

At first I was happy to be recognized for my writing. Conflicted is how I felt next. My wife never reads my blog. I had to ask her to read New Tears. She liked it. She thinks it's good that I'm writing about it. She said it's good that I have an outlet. After sharing this with her, I no longer feel conflicted. I feel honored to have been chosen. It means a lot to me.

I have been trying my hand at this writing thing for several years now. I wrote a novel, that novel sucks. I am trying to write another one, it's on FictionSquared, my other blog. Old cop stories, old war stories. It's all been done before. Now this. Now breast cancer. Now something so real.

My wife wants me to keep going. She wants me to share this. It is certainly not what I want to write about. Breast cancer was never the topic I envisioned myself discussing with Charlie Rose at the big oak table on PBS. One of those daydreams I share only with my wife.

Have to go for now. More to say later. It's birthday dinner day for our older daughter who is nineteen tomorrow, o5NOV......Doing it all today. Tomorrow she's got classes all day, then works at the pharmacy 'til nine o'clock at night......Roast beef, mashed potatoes and green beans with lots of gravy. That's her favorite.

Yes. That was good dinner. After we ate, the birthday girl and her boyfriend went up to the college. She had to take a test on the computer there. They were back in an hour, we had coffee and birthday cake. The girls and the boyfriend are all settled in the living room watching Cabin Boy on DVD. It is a funny movie. My wife just went upstairs to take a nap. She's going back to work tonight at midnight, her regular third shift routine. She's a little bit apprehensive. It's understandable given the circumstances. The doctor said she's clear to return to the plant. I don't want her to go, but I know she should.

Yeah, today is a really good day. We cleaned and cooked and listened to music. Last night things got a little romantic. Our relationship is changing, for the better. We are both looking at each other through new eyes. We are both seeing what it was that brought us together in the first place.

So the doctor says she has time. He says not years, but time. She has to decide when to schedule the next round of surgery. She has to decide when to have her breasts removed.

We have been talking a lot about this. Hours of conversation. I try to just listen, only say something when I have to. These are her decisions, I think she's making good ones. From all that we have read about breast cancer, one thing seems perfectly clear. At her stage, very early, her best shot is a double mastectomy. It's never a guarantee, but it's so damn close that it seems like a no-brainer. There are women out there who never had the chance to decide. We know how lucky we are to have this chance.

My wife gets angry sometimes. She gets angry at a society that places so much importance on appearances, and breasts.

I do not want her to lose her breasts. I would not want her to lose her ears, her big toes or any other part of her body. I do not want to see her go through any of this. I do not want her to have cancer. I do not want her to lose her life. Her decision is the right one. I am proud of her.

She says she doesn't like it when people tell her she's brave. She says she's not brave. She says she's scared. I still say she's brave. Many acts of bravery are motivated by fear. It depends on what you do with that fear. She is facing it, head on.

Hey Tommy. I got to tell you this one bro. This morning I sat down in front of the TV with a cup of coffee. Our younger daughter joined me. The Maltese Falcon was on one of the cable channels, she watched it with me. She got a real kick out of Mr. Cairo. He really is a funny character. She thought it was great when Sam Spade took the gun away from him, knocked him out and tossed his wallet. Maybe she gets that from me. She thinks it's great that I'm an ex-cop from Jersey. She's daddy's girl, no doubt.......Catch you later man.

Oh One.

2007-11-02T10:25:00.000-05:00

Pink Ribbons...Fender Benders...Titanic Book Bags.

Yesterday, the first day of November. Our older daughter, the bigger baby girl. She takes the old Jeep up to the campus for her morning classes. She calls me at around eleven. She says she hit a parked car in the student lot. She's crying. She said she left a note on the windshield of the car she struck. The note said she was sorry. The note included her name and our phone number. She's a good kid. She did the right thing.

So I get a call from this woman down in Pittsburgh. Seems it's her daughter's car that was struck. I tell her that our daughter will pay for the damages. This woman is very nice. She says her daughter did the same thing in a store parking lot a couple of years ago. I tell her that my daughter will be home soon. I tell her that I will call her back. She is concerned that her daughter may not be able to drive safely at night. Damage is to the passenger side front blinker and headlight assembly.

When my daughter returns my wife and I give her hugs. We tell her it happens. We commend her on doing the right thing, leaving the note. With the nice woman's permission, the mother of the girl who's car our girl hit, my daughter and I go look at the damage to her car. It's not as bad as I first thought. I call the girl's mother back. I tell her that it appears like the lights will function, repairs are required of course, but she should be able to drive the car until repairs can be made. The other mother is relieved, she talks to our girl on the phone. She tells our girl that it's all okay. She tells our girl that she appreciates her honesty. She tells our girl not to worry, it's an old car and all they want to do is repair the lights. They are not worried about scratches and paint.

The doctor calls at around half past two. My wife gets the results of all the testing done on the mass they removed from her breast a couple of weeks ago. The first round of tests showed more cancer than was originally thought to be there. The more extensive tests confirmed that. The more extensive tests also showed that none of it is invasive yet. They are calling it aggressive D.C.I.S.........The doctor says that the whole breast will have to be removed.

My wife is telling me all this. I had to leave and pick up our younger baby girl at the bus stop. I return and my wife tells me the rest. I have to leave and go to work. I call her at lunchtime and we talk some more about it. After work last night we talk again.

She tells me that our younger baby girl left the cap loose on a bottle of water. The bottle of water was in her backpack. Her nine-hundred page math book, drenched. Her science book, drenched. The water logged school property was sitting on the heating vents, upright, opened slightly. As the pages began to dry they had to be seperated from each other. It was a save. The books are usable but obviousely damaged. The process continued well into the wee hours on Friday morning. We will have to pay a fine at the end of the school year. We will also have to figure out how to repair the damage on our old Jeep. Did I mention that a crease and dent are now visible on the passenger side front fender as a result of the older baby girl's failed attempt at parking in a clearly marked parking slot that's big enough to roll a semi-truck through?

With what we are facing, it don't mean nothin'. Wet books and dented Jeeps. Forget about it.
Jeeps look good with a couple of small dents anyway. Jeeps can carry that well. Battle scars. I know I've got a couple of old scars that I am actually proud of. Old Jeeps and guys, we can carry that well.

My wife is determined. She is going to kick this cancer's ass. She is going to have both of them removed. I think that's the right decision. It's important to note that what I think is, and should be, secondary in her decision making process. It is part of what we have been talking about. She wants to know what I think. I told her I just want her to live. I told her I just want her to survive. I know it's traumatic for a woman to loose her breasts, but as man, I can never really know. She is only thirty-eight. There are women even younger than her who are facing this.

She knows how lucky she is, early detection and all. She also knows that much of what they found did not show up in the scans or the ultrasound. It did not show up in the mammogram or the core biopsy. Most of what they found showed up when they examined and tested the tissue that they removed during her lumpectomy a couple of weeks ago.

Oh One. Oh one hell of a day. Many more to come I'm sure. She will lead the way.

Hey Tommy.......Yeah. Drive on.

Ain't She Great?

2007-10-26T16:51:00.000-05:00

Today was inventory day down at The Dock. Worked 0730 'til 1600 instead of my usual four to twelve. It's a tradition, that all the guys go out and sink a few beers after inventory day/week. Sometimes one of the bosses shows up and buys rounds. I was thinking, with everything going on at home, that I might just skip the after work beer fest with guys this year. I was thinking wrong.

She insists that I go. She's going to drop me off down at the bar just like last year, and the year before that. She's taking the younger baby girl up to the school for the Halloween Dance. She'll drop me off on the way.

I thought I would have to take the younger baby girl up the hill to get a pair of shoes to match her costume. The older baby girl took care of that between classes this afternoon. She knows what size her sister is.

My wife is doing the Cheetah make-up as I write this. I just had to pause and print a google Cheetah image.

My wife is having a good day today. She's doing her best. She's also looking forward to having the house to herself for a few hours.

Today, life seems pretty good. Today we can pretend that she does not have cancer.

Hey Tommy....Yeah I know. She was going to be a pirate. She changed her mind, chicks tend to do that........No, the pirate stuff I got the other day will go in the costume box for future use. The Cheetah costume is one her older sister made and wore to a high school Halloween Dance a couple years ago....Yeah, catch you later bro.

Damn.

2007-10-24T13:03:00.000-05:00

So I got a call at work last night. She needed the doctor's cell phone number. I told her I wrote it in the book. She said she has pain and discomfort, a walnut size bump on her side, the side where she had the surgery.

So I call her back later. She had just hung up with the doctor. The doctor said it's nothing to worry about. Fluid and blood, not uncommon. He'll look at it on Thursday during her appointment. He tells her something else.

The doctor said that they had to send the sample out for more extensive testing. It looks like it may be more involved than they first thought. It looks like they may have to take the whole breast.

It's all up in the air. The doctor still thinks it's DCIS, just more of it. We don't know. We are back to square one. He's not sure if he'll know on Thursday at 2:15PM when she has her next office visit.

He said she has time. If they have to operate again, it does not have to be right away. He said they reconstruct the breast from tummy tissue. He said she doesn't have enough tummy tissue to do that. I told her she could have mine. She laughed, It's good to hear her laugh.

We just don't know yet. It may not happen. I'm afraid it probably will. I don't care if they can't reconstruct the breast. I just want her to live.

I don't know why this is happening. We have been through enough. I'm starting to get angry.

She's worried about money. More surgery means more lost wages. We have family willing to help. I applied at the railroad. Good money but lots of hours. Four twelve hour days and on-call for the other three. No life with a job like that. Who needs a life? I'm going to need to pay the bills. I know a guy who grossed 70k last year at the railroad. That's good money. I hope I get it. I don't want her working in the powdered metal plant anymore. I want her to be home for the girls like she was once. I want her to be home for her. I want her to live.

New Tears.

2007-10-20T08:53:00.000-05:00

She seemed to be doing so well. Her sense of humor was right on target. Talked to her on the phone at lunch on Thursday night. I was laughing so hard that tears were falling.

Yesterday afternoon, (Friday) forty-eight hours after surgery and time to remove the dressing. I went to the pharmacy before work, while she was sleeping. I purchased extra thick padded gauze, four by fours and tape so she could dress it again if needed. A guy came to the door with flowers and get well balloons from her friends at the plant. I left her a note. "Damn, if I ain't been trumped. All I got you was bandages". That's what the note read.

So, I'm way back off The Dock at around nineteen-thirty hours last night when this kid Johnny comes flying back through the racks on one of our faster pieces of equipment. Me and this other guy, we were moving some big stuff around with a lift. Johnny says my wife is on the phone. Johnny has this look of concern on his face. The guy I'm working with tells me if I have to go to let Johnny know and they will take care of my card.

I enter the foreman's office and he exits quietly. He lays his hand on my shoulder as we pass. I pick up the phone and I don't recognize the voice on the other end. Well, I recognize the voice but there is a tone that's new to me. We've been together almost fifteen years. I have never heard her cry like this.

Sobs. No breath. Short choppy breaths. Sobs. I tell her to breathe. I tell her I love her. I leave the foreman's office. I tell Johnny that I have to go, he already has my lunchbox and my sweatshirt in his hand. Seems he answered the phone. He knew I'd be leaving.

The foreman nods with feeling. I nod back and head for my old Jeep. I'm home in minutes.

She's on the patio when I pull up the alley. I don't say anything, just hold her and those breathless sobs that I heard on the phone come back tenfold. I don't say anything. I just hold her.

Our older girl was at work. Our younger girl was doing her best to keep it together for Mommy.

I get her in the house, sitting at the kitchen counter. I have to hold her, she might fall and hurt herself. It takes about twenty minutes for her to get it all out. I give her a glass of water with a straw. I make sure it was not one of the pink straws.

Seems that when she removed the bandage it all came flooding over her. She didn't know what to expect. She didn't even know where on her breast the stitches would be. She called her friend from work. All her friend could make out were the words; "I can't breathe". The friend tried to call back and got no answer. She was on the phone with her father's girlfriend over in Jersey and ignored the call waiting. The friend came to the house. He's a good guy. I called him back and thanked him for his concern. He said no problem. Like I was saying, he's a good guy. So I called her father's girlfriend back, she was glad I was home. She's the one who told my wife to call me and get me to come home.

My wife talked to our younger daughter. They hugged. My wife motioned me to take her out of the kitchen and talk to her. The little baby girl understands. She's okay. She knows Mommy needs to cry and get it all out. She went to bed with a jazz mix CD playing.

The short breaths started again. The sobs. The New Tears. It took a couple hours for her to tell me all about it. I didn't ask, she needed to talk. Best I could do was hold her, listen to her, be there. We were up 'til like 0300. We were both up again just now. She's laying down again. I'm writing this.

I'm going to the grocery store. First I'm going to take a nap, or try. I'll probably end up on the couch watching cartoons with the little baby girl who ain't that little anymore. She's almost twelve. Doing well in school. The older baby girl is working a ten hour shift today. I think her boyfriend is picking her up at work. She'll call if she needs a ride.

It's on the cooler side, cloudy. Not a nice day for doing outside stuff.

Everything is changing. My wife has breast cancer. I'm afraid the New Tears are here to stay. I'm afraid the New Tears will never go away. Can't stop the New Tears. Maybe it's supposed to be this way. Maybe the New Tears will lead the way.

Hey Tommy. Man, do I wish you were here.

So Far.

2007-10-18T12:01:00.000-05:00

So her surgery seemed to go well. No complications. Next week, October 25th., we find out the results.

It's like this. We both thought this was it. We didn't know that what they removed would have to be studied as well. We thought the initial biopsy was all they needed.

Another week of W.T.F............

I went to work last night. I was in kind of a fog, lack of sleep and like that.

The girls were both here to keep an eye on Mommy. I had my daughter drive me over to The Dock, so she would have the Jeep, just in case they needed anything.

I opted to work outside last night. It was better, no brainer kind of stuff.

It all seems slightly off cue, not in a bad way, just different. So maybe I'll write some more on Fiction Squared. I have to go to the grocery store after work tonight.

Block.

2007-10-12T10:48:00.000-05:00

Have to write and I can't. Want to write another few paragraphs on my Fiction Squared blog but I can't. Too much for this old Squarehead, can't write in this state of mind......

I know she will be alright in the long run. I know they caught the cancer so damn early, even the doctors are kind of stoked about it. I guess they know they can win this one, that's got to be a good feeling for those who fight such a formidable foe......

My wife is seven years younger than me. She's only thirty-eight. I guess the inevitable is hitting me. I want to die first, some day, because I don't think I could stand to be on this earth without her. I think that's what's bothering me so much. I know she'll be okay. I know that they have a lot of success with this type of cancer when they catch it this early.....

That word. Cancer. I hate that word. I'm a Cancer, astrologically speaking. I wonder if I can change that? Who do I petition to change my sign? Can't I just be Crabby instead of Cancer? Who was the moron who came up with that anyway?

"Hey guys! Why don't we name this deadly disease after a constellation and astrological sign? We'll call this deadly disease Cancer, because those who get it are crabby as hell"......

I'm just sayin'.

It's Official.

2007-10-10T13:23:00.001-05:00

Doc called yesterday afternoon as I was on my way out the door for work. My buddy was sitting in the alley waiting for me.

My wife has breast cancer. Early stages, very early detection. She's scheduled for surgery next Wednesday.

They will remove a section from what my wife now refers to as her "bad titty".

Three or so weeks of daily radiation treatments will follow. Five years of hormone therapy after that.

We kind of knew I think. We were prepared to hear the worst. It's a little tough around here right now.

When she was on the phone with the doctor yesterday, like I was sayin' I left for work. When I got down to The Dock I turned around and came right back home. One of the day shift guys gave me a ride up. We talked for about an hour then my daughter ran me back and I finished out the shift. I wanted to stay with her, this ain't no time to be losing hours though. She's going to miss two weeks. That's going to be hard enough.

I don't care about her missing work. She cares because she has perfect attendance, just short of the complete year she needs to get the bonus.

Drive on.

The News, Sort Of.

2007-10-08T12:50:00.000-05:00

So we went to the doc's office last Thursday to see about the results of the biopsy. I waited in the lobby, she wanted to deal with this herself. I can understand that. So she's out in like five minutes, she motions for me to follow her. When we find ourselves alone on the elevator, that's when she tells me.........

They still ain't sure.........

It seems that the lab guy here at our local hospital can't say conclusively one way or the other. They sent a sample down to Pittsburgh for more extensive testing. We should hear something within a few days, or a couple of weeks. Nice.......

So it looks like a non-invasive form of breast cancer. I looked that up, it doesn't spread so that's a good thing. We still don't know for sure though. We still ain't heard from Pittsburgh.......

Yeah Tommy I know.......I've been a little busy. I'll get to it bro.

O.T.

2007-09-26T13:53:00.000-05:00

Every day, seems like it's runnin' into the next. Working 'til 0230, up at 0630, walk the younger baby girl down to the corner bus stop. Try to catch some sleep during the day. Try to get at least the dishes done. Walk back down to the corner at 1510 to meet her bus again. That's when I see her exit the school bus. That's when I see her little face. That's when I don't feel so tired. back to work at 1600. Do it all again.

Went to the Pittsburgh Bird Show this Saturday past. It was just outside the city at the Washington County Fairgrounds. Lot a fun. We all had a good day. Ate at the Red Robbin in Washington. Stopped at the Cheese House in Blairsville on our way back home. Had an agument with my wife later on that night. Stupid me. Tension still up between us. Stupid me.

Okay.

2007-09-25T12:10:00.000-05:00

So the first post is up on Fiction Squared. Not a lot of time right now. Will post here soon, maybe tonight? It depends on how things go down at The Dock. Lots-O-ot lately.

Fiction Squared.

2007-09-18T13:00:00.000-05:00

Yeah so I went ahead and did it. I started another blog. Fiction Squared. You can link to it off my profile page. I'll put a link on this page too. Just a brief introduction up there now........

FictionSquared.blogspot.com

Now I have to fill it up, with fiction. Now I have to put my money where my mouth is. Actually, right now I have to jump in the shower and walk down to the store before I meet the little baby girl at the bus stop. After that, I have to go to work, that's reality...Realty sucks...Reality sucks too but I imagine that if realty were your reality then it would suck as much as any other job.......This is gettin' stupid.

Dancing.

2007-09-17T11:09:00.000-05:00

So the little baby girl attended her first school dance this past Friday night. She said she danced and danced, had a real good time. She ate three slices of pizza at a buck per slice for the first two, fifty cents for the third 'cause the dance was almost over.

We all had a good weekend, got lots-o-stuff done around here. My wife and I were both up at five on Sunday morning. Had an early quiet breakfast together, took showers and headed out to Wal-Mart at seven. We don't really like Wal-Mart but these days it's not like we are availed of a plethora of affordable choices. Key word here is affordable. Even Wal-Mart ain't all that affordable any more.

We got some things for the living room that my wife painted over Labor Day weekend. We got some picture frames and a lamp with a funky old school looking lamp shade that actually goes. I know it goes 'cause my wife and girls say it goes. I have no decorating sense whatsoever. I like blue, black, green and sometimes chrome.

Made more jelly. Two batches over the weekend. Many more grapes still hanging on those vines waiting to be eaten by the birds or picked, squished, mashed and boiled by we humans. Was able to set another dozen or so patio stones yesterday. Got fourteen more waiting to be placed, then we'll have to buy some more. Probably need to pick up about fifteen to finish up the job.

I love walking the younger baby girl down the corner to catch the school bus in the morning. She loves the morning birds. We talk while we walk. Well, she talks and I listen. Every day she tells me something about something that I didn't know. She's a sponge, just soaks up the information. We got her PSSA testing scores from last year in the mail. She's hundreds of points above what they consider to be advanced in both math and reading. She's right there at the advanced level in writing. The girl is scary smart. We don't push her, we never have. We just always made sure that the homework is done on time. She's just like that, scary smart.

Every day I watch the older baby girl drive off to the campus, sometimes I drive her but usually she just takes the old Jeep. After classes, almost every day and most weekends, she goes to work at the pharmacy. She has over two grand saved up for a car. We told her to keep saving, get a better car that way. We are so proud of her. Last night I was looking at pictures from about fifteen years ago. Me and the older baby girl running on the beach down the shore. She would pick up every broken shell she could find. She loved to dance at the edge of the surf. We would go down the shore in the spring on weekdays, have the beach all to ourselves. Can't believe she's in college now.

Redundancy is everything, and repeating yourself is cool too. I know I've said all this before, just sometimes it overwhelms me with pride. These two girls, couldn't ask for more.

Hey Tommy. I went and checked out that car. It's a '99 Grand-Am, looks to be in great shape but, it needs tires and it has 143,000 miles on it. That's kind of high mileage for that little aluminium GM motor. I don't want her to have to be dumpin' money into the motor right away. I asked the guy why his son was sellin' the car. The guy said his son is a Marine gettin' sent back to Iraq for his second tour. He said his son also sold his other vehicle, an older 4x4 truck. He said his son figures if he makes it back this time then he's gonna treat himself to a brand new vehicle. I just said to him, God bless your son. He said thank you and that was it.

Dancin' on the beach. Dancin' in the gym. Dancin' on the head of a pin.

Seven.

2007-09-13T13:54:00.000-05:00

Got to run in seven minutes. Got to meet the younger baby girl at the bus stop. Got to run into the one stop shop for everything corner store/gas station first. Got to get a dozen eggs, my wife likes a couple fried eggs before she goes in at midnight. Got no eggs right now.

Said nothing about 9-11 on this blog. Said nothing last year either. Got to say something, I guess. Got to say nothing, better still. Can't believe Osama is still out there. They need to get him. That's all I got to say.

Two minutes left, then I got to go.

Hey Tommy, weather broke. Nice and cool here the last couple days. Chilly in the morning. I was thinkin' Tommy. I was thinkin' about what to write on the other blog I'm thinkin' about startin'. Then it came to me. You'll like it.
Later bro.

Another Month. Almost.

2007-09-11T09:58:00.000-05:00

So last week we went to the hospital and my wife saw the surgeon. He said some very positive things. She likes him. She said he's easy to talk to. She said he answers all her questions without an attitude. You know that attitude that some doctors will throw your way. She said that he said that he doesn't think she has breast cancer, yet. She said that he said he would put the odds at one in fifteen in her favor. She said that he said that she has those clusters that can lead to breast cancer, but he doesn't think she has it yet. He said they will biopsy the clusters. We have to wait until the first of October, of course. She said that he said that even if she does have breast cancer, it would be so very early on that treatment would be less invasive and very successful.

I waited in the waiting room while she was in with the doctor. I was really sucking wind. I knew it was better than the worst when I saw her smile light up the waiting room as she walked through the door after her visit.

So, the first of October before we know for sure. It for sure sounds better than it did before.

We had a great weekend. Busy as hell but a great weekend. The grapes are ready and my wife started picking and sorting. I started mashing them down and cooking them out, squeezing the juice through a cheesecloth. We made our first couple quarts of jelly.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM. It's-a- so nice.

Got about six more quarts of juice sittin' in the fridge. I'll be making more jelly today before I go to work.

The younger baby girl started Middle School. She rides the bus. We walk down to the bus stop at about 0710. I walk down and meet her at about 1515 each afternoon. She likes the Middle School so far. They are having their first dance this Friday at 6:30. The older baby girl and one of her girlfriends will be helping her pick out an outfit and get ready for the dance. It's exciting, her first real school dance. I'll be at work but my wife said she'll call me down The Dock after she picks her up at 9:00, let me know how it went. My foreman will get me when the call comes in. He knows the deal. He knows how I feel about the baby girls. He's a dad too.

Hey Tommy. Yeah, so I've been thinkin' bro. I've been thinking about starting a second blog. It's goin' to be a total work of fiction, this second blog. I'm goin' to write a story, a little bit at a time. Maybe someone will enjoy it. Hell, I know I'll enjoy writing it.........Yeah, but I don't think people really do that so much. I mean stealing other peoples work like that. Besides, this blog is copyrighted and if I ever found out that someone stole my stuff? Well, they would have to pay me lots of money then wouldn't they? Besides, I think that's a lot of urban legend. Maybe I'm wrong, and I don't really care. If someone ever stole my stuff, well that means it's good enough I guess.........Yeah, based on that theory I got nothin' to worry about.....No man, I'm just lookin' to have some fun. You know I love to write, that's all that matters to me......Yeah, I'll let you know. Should be a link to it from my profile page. I just have to figure out how to do it 'cause I'm a moron when it comes to all this computer crap......Yeah Tommy.

Labor................Day.

2007-09-03T22:47:00.001-05:00

Yeah, so I took the girls over to Jersey to see their grandfather over the weekend. My wife decided last minute that she didn't want to go. She got a call on Friday morning, a few hours before we left, from the doctor's office. They said she's supposed to see this surgeon on Tuesday at two o'clock for a consultation. The nurse who called told my wife that the two lumps in her left breast are cysts, probably nothing to worry about but..................The other breast, the one that does not bother her, the one that's not showing any lumps. That one has micro (something) clusters. Micro (something) clusters are not good.

Yeah, so, yeah...........................

Had a good time in Jersey, sort of. The girls had a ball. The grandfather and his girlfriend spoiled them rotten, tons of food, gifts, a little cash for their bank accounts......................

Saturday morning I took a ride. Said I had to get a few things at the store. Just drove around some of the old neighborhood. Thinking....................

Yeah, so on Saturday afternoon they take me and the girls down to Lyndhurst, Polito Avenue. Medieval Times is the place. It's very cool indeed. You stuff your face and watch these guys on horseback go at it with swords and lances in this large indoor arena. If you never heard of it then just look it up on-line. They got like ten of them all around the country............

Sunday morning I got up and went to the store again. I had to get Taylor Ham at the Shop-Rite. You can't get Taylor Ham in this part of Pennsylvania. It's criminal I know, but what are you gonna do. My old Jeep don't really fit in at the Shop-Rite, not so much these days. They got a friggin' Rolls Royce dealership out on 46 in Pine Brook. Things have changed. I mean Globe Mercedes was always there on Bloomfield Avenue. Montclair had the Rolls/Jaguar dealership, but Pine Brook? We used to go drinkin' at Dirty Jack's in Pine Brook...............

My wife spent the weekend painting the living room. The little baby girl knew all about it, she went to the store with my wife on Friday about an hour before we left for Jersey and picked out the paint. She's good at keepin' her mouth shut. Me and the older baby girl were completely surprised. The living room looks great. We just hung the curtains back up about an hour ago...

First day of school for the little baby girl tomorrow. She'll be takin' the bus. I'll walk her down to the bus stop at 0710. At 0900 I have to drop the older baby girl off up at the campus, she's got classes 'til 3 o'clock. At two I have to take my wife up to the hospital to see that surgeon. At a quarter after three I have to meet the bus and see how the little baby girl made out her first day of middle school then go back up to the campus and pick up the older baby girl who will then drive me to work at four................

Things just don't seem real lately, or maybe they seem a little too real. I know that micro (something) clusters are bad. Micro (somethings) alone ain't too bad, sometimes they can even remove them when they do the biopsy, but clusters are bad. Macro is less bad, or maybe it's micro that's not as bad, I don't know. The nurse said micro, my wife wrote it down..................

All the stupid shit I've done in my life, I should be dead at least five or six times already. It ain't right, but I ain't sayin' nothin' either...........

Early detection, all the medical advances and we have good insurance.................

We'll know more after tomorrow...................

Whatever it takes..............

If I have to I'll find me that Crossroad, get down on my knees.

A Day.

2007-08-29T13:53:00.000-05:00

Worked over last night. Got home a little after 02 this morning. Up at 0800. Drove my daughter up to the campus for her morning classes. At about a quarter before noon my wife and I, along with our younger daughter headed over to the hospital, not too far from the campus. My wife had her scheduled mammogram and ultrasound at noon. So we drop her off, she goes inside. She's nervous. I'd be nervous too. Me and the little baby girl head over to the campus to pick up the big baby girl who gets out at 1210 hours. She has no classes 'til 1430 so we all go back to the hospital and sit in the waiting room while my wife is being clamped into the breast crushing torture device known as the mammogram machine.

The big baby girl is working on math while the little baby girl is working on it with her. Sometimes I think that's why the little one is as advanced as she is. The two of them do school work together all the time. I'm diggin' the moment, my girls and all like that. I'm tryin' to read National Geographic. I'm not doin' a very good job, reading that is.

So my wife comes out at around 1320, she's sore but glad that it's over. She wants Chinese, we all go have lunch together. The big baby girl drops us off at the house and takes the old Jeep back up to the campus for her afternoon classes. She's done with school at 1650,reports to work at 1700. I'm gettin' a ride over to The Dock from this kid I work with for our 1600 shift.

We have to wait for the results. She said they took extra pictures, twice, of the breast that has the two lumps in it. I'm prayin'. Hope I'm doing it right.

A friend told me to keep my mouth shut, that it's about her right now. My friend told me that I can't let it bother me, at least so she can tell it's bothering me. That friend is right. I'm doin' the best I can. It's all about my wife, not about me bein' all emotional and stupid. I think I'm pretty good at hidin' my emotions, most guys are. Now, the stupid part is a different story. I don't have as much control over the stupid part but I'm tryin'.

Hey Tommy, did I tell you I've been losin' my hair?....No, really man. Over the last few months on the back of my head. It looks like Friar Friggin' Tuck and shit.....Yup, I'm gettin' ready to get all Kojac now. Gonna have to buy me an electric razor and hope that old scar up there has faded enough.....No, my wife thinks it'll be cool. She's totally cool with it.....Yeah, thanks bro.....Yeah, I'll let you know.