earning my wings

A new counter is running on the site. It says countdown to Tampa but it might as well read countdown to complete nervous breakdown or countdown to massive involuntary bowel movement episode. A group of regulars, including myself, are going on our annual get-outta-Dodge golf trip. And we are flying. In a plane.

I am not a big fan of flying.

My wife is growing tired of my daily questions:
Sue? Am I going to be alright? Yes Joe, you'll be fine.
Sue? You don't mind flying, right? No Joe. I don't mind flying. You'll be fine.
Sue? The maintenance guys are going to tighten all the nuts and bolts, right? Yes Joe, they are the best mechanical guys around. They don't let those birds off the ground unless those bolts are torqued to specification. You'll be fine.

I hate when people say air travel is much safer than getting in your car. Phooey. In my book, if the unspeakable happens in a car, it is much better than the realization of your impending doom while nosediving for 3 minutes from 30,000 feet. Excuse me? Do you have any paper? I need to chicken scratch a message to my family.

I've flown before or maybe I didn't; I'll explain later. I'll admit, when we are cruising on the runway and the engines are thrown to full power for lift-off, it's a thrilling and powerful experience. But what I hate the most is the initial almost vertical climb to altitude. You see, in my head, flying completely disregards logic. How can a 500 ton piece of metal even get off the ground? And then sustain flight? It's magic, I'm tellin' ya. Smoke and mirrors. That's not jet-lag you feel after a flight, thats the feeling of all your body's cells getting glued back together after getting warped Star Trek style from one place to another. And I don't want to hear about your Mile High Club experience. That was simply a wet-dream warp proven by the best conspiracy theorists the world has to offer. Also, please don't try to explain the physics behind this magic. Lift, drag and rotation is helicopters. I'm no dummy. Thrust? Suuuure. I also find it offensive when a plane goes down and all the expert investigators are scratching their heads as to why. I know why. It's because flying is illogical. If mankind was meant to fly we would've been born with yada yada yada.

Driving to Tampa would be a 20-22 hour trip. Flying is about two. That's a big time difference. When I committed to flying with our golf group, I didn't give it much thought. Now I think about it everyday. Before my flight I think I'll indulge in a little self-medication at the airport lounge. Or maybe I'll have my brother Mark shoot me with a rhinoceros tranquilizer gun in the parking lot. Or maybe I shouldn't do any of these things. I need to retain my status as the cool old guy within my circle of golf trip buddies. I have to keep it together on that illogically large airborne cylindrical tube of uncertainty because I don't want to be the butt of jokes for years to come. I'm just wondering but do you think they'll notice if I'm wearing a Depends?

Uh Sue? Why don't they make planes with tops that pop open and seats that eject with parachutes in cases of extreme emergency? For the love of God Joe! Grow a sack and get on the damn plane!

Ok Sue. You got it. I'll do my best because I'm a big boy and I wear big boy pants. But if anyone reading this sees me at the grocery store on May 5th buying adult diapers, keep me in your thoughts and keep the diaper thing to yourself. On a wing and a prayer, I'll return. Hopefully.

two weeks of heaven

We now interrupt your regularly scheduled prime time programming (and some afternoon soap opera time) for the absolute greatest event in sports. I'm talking about The NCAA Basketball Tournament. If you're looking for soul-stirring drama where David has the chance to take down Goliath, look no further.

So sit down, crack a beer and enjoy March Madness with me. You'll love it!

A taste: buzzer beater!

crazy legs

Eric, I.. am your.... father

I'd like to revisit a theme I used from my very first blog post over a month ago. I had talked about "significant moments" that we as dads experience from time to time when dealing with our kids. These moments of significance happen to us all. I'm not sure we as parents recognize all of them; some may fall through the cracks without any reflection whatsoever. Well one happened last night. The gravity of the moment was simple in nature, but the significance of it empowered me with the will to go toe-to-toe with Mike Tyson in a 12 round title bout. Maybe we can scale that back a bit. Let's say tickle contest.

I will try to set the scene best I can.

Sue usually puts Eric to bed and reads a book or two before he drifts off. Evan, our youngest wasn't feeling the whole bedtime vibe at that moment and was being especially difficult so Sue thankfully opted to deal with him instead. So I was last night's book reader.

Walter the Baker was the choice and I found myself enthralled by the story. It's just a story about a baker and an unreasonable king who was really ticked off at the baker because the baker's cat spilled the baker's milk so he had to make the king rolls with water instead of milk and the king wanted to throw him out of town because the rolls sucked but the baker pleaded and the king relented and issued a challenge to come up with the most ridiculously awesome roll by tomorrow or else so the baker accidentally invented pretzels and the king loved them so they all partied in the street like mardi-gras with beads and alcohol and wet white t-shirts. The only thing Eric cared about is why the king had a dog.

When I read Eric bed time books I lay in bed with him flat on my back with the book on my chest. Eric snuggles next to me with his head on my shoulder. When the book was done there was a moment of silence but I didn't look his way for fear of jarring him awake in case he was already asleep. I let another minute pass and gave him a glance. I was surprised to see him staring blankly into my eyes. I softly said "Night night I love you buddy" and his eyes slowly closed while he replied "I love you too, daddy" and he was out like a light, cuttin' logs.

I am finding it hard to describe how I felt at that moment. I mean everybody's kids tell them they love them. There was just some kind of significance there that I immediately recognized and will cherish probably forever. A confirmation or affirmation that I am dad and he feels safe and secure.

I'd like to re-neg on the whole Mike Tyson bit. I would easily win a tickle contest. Did you ever see Castaway? With Tom Hanks? There is a part in that movie where Tom struggles to make fire. Finally after many cold nights with no success and on the verge of giving up, he does it. The euphoria and gratitude for warmth Tom displays is probably the best comparison to how I felt when I got up from Eric's bed.

Paid in full, Eric. Sweet dreams.

(click here if your memory is fuzzy for re-enactment of Castaway scene I found on youtube.)

good news from the carpe diem department

Last week, my brother and I took a trip to see mom in South Carolina. It was planned as an intervention of sorts after we caught wind that mom, who was diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer last year, was still smoking. We just wanted to remind her that there's a lot to try and live for since our calls and emails haven't been replied to for quite some time. The last time we saw her in August she was in bad shape with all the chemo and radiation treatments she was going through. We didn't know what to expect or how we were going to be received.

I am happy to report that there were no cigarettes present for the three days we were there. And she looked good too! Last summer she couldn't eat much because her throat burned when she swallowed. That's gone now and her hair and weight are coming back strong.

The really good news came when the phone rang this morning and it was her saying her latest pet scan shows the cancer is all but gone and she is being released from most of her treatments.

I know it's hard to give up a 40 year habit. I am very proud of her strength and hopefully her commitment to stay clear of cigarettes and ultimately be lung cancer free.





Mom pretending to look for shells but actually prowling for studs.

just so I know that you know

Writing posts in a blog is therapeutic. I say therapeutic because there have been many events in the past couple of weeks that have steered my innards in every emotional direction and a little keyboard therapy never hurt anyone. I enjoy the naked translation of turning my thoughts or feelings into words so my audience or followers can understand who I am. Doing this has helped me better understand who I am. I recognize I have a lot to say; I just can't say it. I always thinked I speaked english goodly but I'm constantly at a loss for words when I open my mouth, even if Sue in one way or another tells me to shut-up ten times a day. I am much more comfortable when I write and I'm truly appreciative of the compliments and encouragement to continue that I've received. Thank you from a guy who failed English his senior year in high school.

I am touching base since it's been over two weeks since my last post. Over the next couple days I will expound further about those events that have twisted my innards.

This therapy session is now out of time. Thanks for reading and see you next session.