It was a good day, it was a bad day.

Walking today was the worst it has been in… well I think it was the worst day ever for me. I had to stop every couple of blocks and sit. Thankfully, Palm Spring has many park benches spread through downtown. I guess they are used to elderly people.

But I used gift cards to buy some fancy new clothes.

The flight back to Portland was uneventful. We were a little late landing in Portland, as they had to de-ice the wings in Seattle. I should have known it was a bad omen.

I got to Richard’s car. It wouldn’t start. There was frost on the inside of the windows. Thankfully, the Port of Portland has people who jump cars and they are quick to help the needy. The drive to the hotel was harrowing, but I made it.

I am snugly tucked in, just a few miles from my brand new car.

Tomorrow starts a new era.

It's Christmas Eve Day

And the sun is shining.

Merry Christmas to all!!!

Forecast

12" to 18" of snow for the Upper Valley in the next 24 hours.

We will see!

It is time to stand up for what is right

I’m not out of touch. I do read about all the hell going on in the world. Radicals of all religions are doing shit that shouldn’t be done in the name of their god. Perhaps I am becoming a radicalized secular humanist. Maybe it is time I stood up and screamed and held up my (okay, is there a religious book for secular humanist) and shouted, “This is just wrong.”

America has a serious presidential candidate who is preaching hate and venom. It is time to stand up and speak out. Some say he is un-American, that his hate has no place in this country, but we have a history of hate in the United States.

It is time each one of us screamed from our rooftops that this kind of bigotry is not right. That prejudice has no place in our county. Be it blacks or Jews or Hindis or Sikhs or gays, we each have something to give to the world of people.

Yes, even Muslims have a place at our table. And attempts to silence or limit or marginalize them are wrong and hateful. 

Stop the spread of radicalism. Join hands.

No words

An odd memory from my youth.

I worked at Lewis & Clark Theater for a year during high school. It doesn’t exist anymore, done in by modern progress.

Many of my co-workers went to Tyee, my alma mater, but close to an equal number went to Glacier, the neighboring high school.  Technically speaking, Lewis & Clark was in the South Central School District, but I don’t remember any co-workers going to Foster High.

I remember being in the break room with a co-worker. He was a year younger than me and a star running back for the Glacier Grizzlies football team.  He told me about how he and some friends went gay bashing in downtown Seattle the night (or weekend) before. My memory is fuzzy. I can’t tell you his name.

He told me in a way that almost apologetic. I don’t think he was boasting and bragging. I think in a way he was looking to me for support. But, of course, I took the chicken shit way out, and left without comment. He may have been opening up to me, or I may have been laid out unconscious in the parking lot that night. I’m not sure. I hope he found peace.

Medical alert!

In a blatant attempt to steal my thunder, Tom has decided to develop crystals in his urine.

Bad kitty, bad kitty!

So, starting tonight he is on a special diet. For 6 weeks he can only eat one of the really expensive, specialty cat foods. This means feeding time has just gotten more intense and brutal. I haven’t had the heart to tell either Tom or Max that their free-wheeling days of eating whatever and whenever they want is crashing to a halt. 

Join me in a moment of silence, as my sleeping thru the night has just coming to a clawing end.

I am home.

And I am safe and sound, unless you count the hordes of marauding cats who demand attention and petting rituals and walking all over your prone body as you attempt to sleep.

And I am high as a kite. Oxycodone does a number on your definition of reality. I’m not sure how it got there, but I found my cell phone in my bed, early this morning. Either Max was expecting an important call or the phone was cold and lonely, or perhaps both.

But the surgery was successful, or so they say. Technically speaking, I was there, but my notes are sketchy and I remember very little, but Dr. Aliabadi promised me it was a success. She even showed me pictures of the tumor and the adrenal gland. It was really ugly. Now I understand why it had to go. Unattractive growths like that have no place in my body.

Oh, and I have a five more scars. (I know that in my last post I reported “4”, but Oxycodone and math are not friends.) I haven’t seen them yet, as they are covered by bandages, but these are on my belly. Frankenstein, you got nothing on me!

I am glad to be home and glad that I have Karla here to help me with the trials of reality.

More late as I make it up!