On the Road Again . . . Day 3

Washington City, UT. This morning we left at 6:48 and headed up into the Rockies. Awesome! Gorgeous! Breath-taking! Coming out of the Eisenhower Tunnel you see a spectacular view of the snow capped peaks. If only I had asked Alex to pull over so I could take a shot to share with you. Ah well. The going was very slow but the scenery is so wonderful that I didn't really care. And without the assistance of little Tommy we found a mountain Starbucks -- in fact there was a whole shitload of them. These mountain people really like their over-priced coffee.

About the incident from yesterday. Never happened. Well, it never happened to Alex. It did happen to me and Karen about 35 or 40 years ago. Of course there were no ATM's then so we had to get the cash from Karen's mom and take it back to inbred Jed in BFE. And the asshole did want to put me in the clink.

I'm writing this at 4:30 AM in the bathroom so I don't wake up Al, who is probably awake anyway.

We did have one semi-interesting personal encounter of a sort. We discovered Illinois Man. He's driving a shitty-looking white midsized car of some kind. It's maybe fifteen years old. You'll recognize it by the crap stuffed in in the seats so high the back window is completely obstructed. The passenger's seat is likewise full of shit. And it's clearly junk, not well packed personal possessions. We saw him Tuesday for the first time. We made our snide remarks and forgot about him. Until Wednesday when Alex said "We passed that guy yesterday." Mildly interesting when you're bored to death. After stopping at Starbucks and driving for a while, guess who? Illinois Man. Did I mention he still had on the same shit-eating green tee shirt? He did. Well, we passed him two more times in two more states. On our final descent into Southern Utah I saw a shitty white midsized car on the side of the road with the driver looking under the hood. Illinois Man? I hope not; the man needs to get where he is going.

The weather was cloudy all day but when we checked in at the Holiday Inn Express (Thanks, Chris.) it was sunny, breezy and about 82 degrees. Perfect. Wish I could package this. I feel great.

Deep Thoughts. I know you're asking yourself "Where do these deep thoughts come from, Jim?" Well, thanks to my illnesses I can't sleep more than 4-5 hours and I don't want to wake my traveling partner, so I think deep thoughts (imagine scary organ music).

The first of which is a follow up to yesterday about powerful men who think they can get away with anything. It's this: These men have chosen to lead DELIBERATELY PUBLIC lives. . . and they still think they won't get caught. Does the President of the United States think he can get away with sexual indiscretions and then get away with lying about it? (And I like Bill Clinton.) I guess the Ohio State football coach thinks it's worth risking his career to keep nitwits who trade memorabilia for tattoos eligible to play in a damn college football game. I guess now he knows the answer.

But I digress. Today's deep thoughts are about movies. What's the difference between your Favorite Movie and the Best Movie you've ever seen? Probably that your Favorite Movie is the movie you enjoy watching the most because something about it strikes a chord with you; whereas, the Best Movie you've ever seen probably has the best writing, acting, casting, direction, music, production design and so forth. In my case they are the same movie: the so-called Godfather Saga. That's The Godfather and The Godfather Part II played in chronological order. I love just about everything about these movies. What makes them the Best Movies I ever seen are all the things I've just enumerated, but most of all it's the characters. They are so authentic, particularly the supporting roles. Here's one: Don Fanucci, the Black Hand. Remember his white suit, his tilted fedora, his pinkie ring, his coat draped over his shoulders and his regal wave? I look at him and I believe that is the Black Hand, not an actor playing a role. There are dozens more. And the production design! Was Vito's tomato garden the perfect set for an old Italian man? The music! Let's not forget the dramatic tension between despising these men as vicious killers and thieves and admiring them as fathers and men of unshakable values.

Well, you get the point. So why is it also my favorite? What strikes a chord? I feel so Italian when I watch it. It makes me feel special as an Italian. Sometimes a movie is so good that you like it just because it is good.

And finally . . . Tomorrow (actually today) we hit LALA land. Alex can't wait to get there. Me, I have mixed feelings. I'm excited for her . . . and for me. But I dread getting on that plane back to the motor city.

Thanks for taking the tine to read this.

On the Road Again . . . Day 2

Day 2.
My apologies for the number of errors yesterday, I’ll do better today.

Destination: Denver, CO. We were up and pulling away from the hotel at 7:05 am. The Starbucks that little Tommy (our portable GPS) directed us to was just a figment of his imagination. So we departed Des Moines Starbucksless but happy to be on our way. Poor Alex is still sick and her nose is running like Usain Bolt. We quickly made it to the Nebraska border and the city of Omaha. One of the low points of the trip so far is entering Nebraska and knowing you have to drive 455 miles before you hit Colorado . . . actually that’s the mileage to Wyoming. However, Colorado feels just as far.

I found a way to shorten the trip through Nebraska: sleep. Since neither Alex nor I sleep very well the night before, the combination of tiredness and boredom is a good pacifier to lull you to sleep. At least it worked for me. Seems like I was out for more than an hour and a half. Once we crossed into Colorado, the weather was gorgeous and the traffic was light. We zoomed the 672 miles from Des Moines in nine hours forty minutes.

We met my brother Jerry and my sister-in-law Cheryl in Westminster, Co for dinner. It was fantastic to see them. They are two of my favorite people in the world. We went through the entire family starting with Great Grandma B through our siblings and my kids and their cousins. Unfortunately it was a short visit but Alex and I were glad we saw them. We’ll meet again (unfortunately without Alex) in October in Hilton Head.


We did have an “incident” on the ride through Nebraska. Contrary to popular lore, they do stop speeders out west. My lead-footed daughter can attest to it. Getting stopped going 85 in a 65 was just the beginning. Since we were passing through a rural county, which is apparently in the dark ages, we were escorted to the local Justice of the Peace for determination of the fine. Regrettably we did not have $195 in cash between us and Andy of Mayberry did not accept credit cards. So the fat-assed JP with the nicotine stained fingers suggested the Alex should sit in Jail until I bailed her out. Fortunately the state trooper pleaded our case and asked the stupid JP to let us go to an ATM for cash. We did so, and got the fuck outta Dodge.

Deep Thoughts: When we were leaving the hotel in the morning, I noticed a copy of USA Today lying on the floor outside our door. On the front page was the story of Jim Tressel’s “resignation” as Ohio State football coach. This again raises the question “Why to powerful men think they can get away with anything, no matter how stupid?” From Bill Clinton to John Edwards to Tiger Woods to Charlie Sheen, and a zillion other assholes, men in powerful positions seem to loose sight of the fact that they are not invincible. Doubt me? Ask Newt “Big Dumb Shit” Gingrich. How can these highly visible men forget that we live in the age of social media where your every fart is recorded and posted. I hope they all get what they deserve: public disgrace AND loss of their career.

I have more Deep Thoughts but let’s let them simmer until tomorrow.

Thanks for reading.

On the Road Again . . .

DES MOINES, IA. Yet another road trip. This time my youngest daughter Alex and I are off to Cerritos, Cali. Quite a bit different from my last road trip out west in 2007. That was round trip, alone and for three weeks. This time I am helping Alex drive to her new home and new job in Cali. Then I'm flying back from LAX after a few days of sun and fun. Actually Alex and I have done this before -- at least as far as Boulder. Then six weeks later I flew to Denver; hopped off the plans; and jumped in Alex's car and were off to Michigan. That was a killer. I swore "Never again." So here I am again. One major difference is that Alex just bought a Hyundai Tucson which is many times more comfortable that her old Jetta with 115,000 miles on it.

It's a big stretch to come up with something interesting, entertaining or, maybe, funny. A good place to start is always something that went wrong. For example, the top thing on my list for the trip was some new prescription sunglasses. My current ones are scratched and not that effective. First I tried Pearle Vision who wanted $480 for one pair of polarized sunglasses. No way. On to Lenscrafters. Amazingly that had a 50% off sale going on. What a shock! They have more 50% off sales than Diamond Jim's Whoopee Emporium. So I gave the guy my prescription (which I noticed had been written in 2007) and in an hour they were ready . . . and at half the price! Amazing. I did notice that I couldn't see all that well, but that was because I was inside. Unfortunately it didn't take long to realize that this was not my prescription. So I took them back for a comparison to my current glasses and . . . (drum roll) they were completely different prescriptions. I needed a written prescription for them to make me some new ones. I had no time to get to my doctor before we left on the road trip. What to do? Well, I told this story to M and she asked why I didn't get their doctor to do an eye test on me. I don;t know. Because it was too obvious. Because my head is too far up my ass? And thus, no new sunglasses.

Meanwhile our drive from Michigan to Des Moines was marred only by the fact that our attempt to buy a delicious breakfast at McDonald's required three stops and almost an hour. After unsuccessful stops in Marshall, Michigan (line was too long)and Albion, Michigan (too closed), we spent a half an hour in Kalamazoo waiting for our wonderful food. No more McDonald's.

We crossed the Mississippi at Quad cities and stopped just on the other side at the Primary Iowa Welcome Center. Which of course made me wonder what the secondary welcome center might be. I took some photos of the mighty Mississippi but they are shit, so no picturesque shots to accompany this blog. As we continued our initial incursion into Iowa we learned a couple of interesting facts about Iowa's rest stops: they apparently don't know what primary means because their was a second Primary Iowa Welcome Center about ten miles in and in Davenport their are two rest stops that are two miles apart. And it is so exhausting to drive that extra two miles that the second one is for parking and sleeping only.

Deep Thoughts. (Remember the segment on the original SNL with that name?) For many many I’ve had the same recurring daydream while I’m driving on the highway. I’m driving with a guy who has been transported from the mid-19th century to my car. He has never seen a car or a highway and of course has never traveled at eighty miles an hours. My job is to explain where he is an what our time – which is of course the future to him – is like and what a car is and so forth. After a while I drift into the opposite direction and I am back in the mid-19th century but with my life’s worth of knowledge and experience from the 21st century. I wonder how much an average guy like me can help move technology and society forward then. Vat does zis mean? Maybe I want to be a time traveler. I sure as hell whole like to go back before I got sick and try it again.

And finally. This trip allows me the great privilege and pleasure of spending one on one time with Alex. Even though we talk every little – so little that many people find it strange – I enjoy the opportunity tremendously. Alex is a wonderful person. Even though she is soft spoken and a real rule-follower, she is gutsy as hell and tough and resilient. I think she will love California and will do great there.

As always, thanks for reading.

I vow . . .

That as of today, February 28, 2011, the third anniversary of the day I met the Lovely M, I will make no further contact with her. The excitement is not greater than the pain. She did nothing wrong. She was just herself. I should know better.

Recently I have wanted to contact her. Our non-relationship held the potential to inject some excitement into my life. I started telling friends that a bad day with M was far more interesting than a good day sitting home alone. I finally acted when I felt particularly down after reading a couple of medical reports about me that used the term MSA (multiple systems atrophy.) This the the fatal version of the autonomic dysfunction I have. It greatly upsets me when I hear it used loosely to describe me. I wanted to seek her out for comfort. Insane though it may seem, I knew she really cares about me and I thought she would comfort me.

I called and arranged lunch the next day. Although I had promised myself that I would keep it light, after 20 minutes or whatever I asked her "Why to do think I'm so fascinated with you?" That opened the floodgates. I won't divulge the conversation but I was floating on air afterward. I believe that I simply caught her off guard and she showed her genuine affection and joy. I texted her when I got home to thank her and test whether I had been dreaming. She come back with a nice response.

I allowed my fantasizing to go wild - I was seriously imaging us married. I thought about how I was going to work to fix this with my kids and her. I was briefly in heaven. I knew I was on very thin ice but when you have faced as much pain as I have you don't deny yourself the opportunity to feel good. Really good.

Saturday night we had dinner. She was reserved, evasive and withdrawn; not to mention oblivious to her insensitivity. I think she truly believes that evading and redirecting issues is "nicer" than facing them head on. In any event it took very little time to see there was not going to be any "new" relationship. Again I don't feel like recounting the details.

I left her house with another big hole in my heart. However, I wouldn't change it. A bad day with M is better than a good day home alone. It's not her fault. It's my addiction to drama/crisis. If they don't occur naturally you have to create them.

I have so many wonderful friends and such a fantastic family that I need to use their support as an alternative to a "good day home alone." It's far less stressful. As for M, my addiction is always there. I just have to overcome it.

Back in the Saddle Again

Last year I essentially stopped writing blogs. Mostly because I was feeling so lousy and was so preoccupied with my my poor health that I couldn't focus on other things which might be fun to write about.

Well, for now I feel better and want to be upbeat and entertaining. It'll be a challenge but let's start 2011 with my best shot. As you can see I'm writing this in the middle of January. Not quite half way through Winter and everybody's really sick of it already. I have cabin fever like you wouldn't believe even though I go out at least once every day and I have an aide or two come to my home everyday but Saturday. I play Wii a lot and I'm pretty good at some things. Mostly those games which don't require quick reflexes, like golf. My evening aide and I play 5 nights a week and she has become as good as I am. We both enjoy the competitive challenge and the opportunity to cuss like truck drivers. She has been seriously kicking my ass the past few days and I need to get my dignity back, starting tonight.

The light of my life is the young man I'm holding in the picture above. My grandson, Beckett. That picture was taken the day he was born. He's now six months old and twice that size. Check out my profile picture on Facebook for a more current picture. He is pure joy to be around. I know every grandparent is bursting with pride over their grand kids but Beckett is truly amazing. His mom and dad have already done a wonderful job raising him and it's only been six months. Every time I see him I just want to enjoy every second I spend around him. He fascinates me. He must be the most photographed kid in the country and that's great. It just gives me more opportunity to see him and be amazed. Just like I am with my four great children.

Do you know the word antediluvian? It was an answer on Jeopardy last night and I got it correct. For an old fart, I'm pretty good at Jeopardy. By the way the category was Six Syllable Words and the word means before the flood. I had a pompous law school professor who referred to someone's thinking as antediluvian. That's how I knew the word. While I'm on the topic, the answer to Final Jeopardy was caduceus and I got that one too.

What I need to cure this cabin fever is a trip to the South. That has become my habit for each year since the turn of the century. This year I can't come up with a traveling companion and I refuse to go alone (nor should I go alone with my poor health). I have a new friend nearby and I thought about asking her - strictly platonic of course. But some family issues that require her to stay put have come up so that idea is no good. I even considered going with a guy! Me? But there's no apparent candidate there either. If I can't figure that one out, I need another short term goal to get my mind off of being trapped in the cold. I'll come up with something no doubt.

My overarching goal is to find something I have a passion for that will occupy my time and my mind so that I am challenged and have a sense of accomplishment. I have spent a ton of time thinking about this and talking to my therapist about it and I haven't hit pay dirt yet. So indulge me for a couple of minutes will I think out loud. The first obvious question is what have I been passionate about before. Well, there's My Children; Women; My Work; Traveling; Golf; and Movies. All good passions I guess but none meet the criteria of currently occupying my time and mind. I am as passionate as ever about my kids and my grandson, but they are grown and self-sufficient. I love visiting them but that's a few weekends at best. Sure I'm preoccupied as always with women but given my circumstance, dating is not an interest right now. One woman who has proved to be bad for me still occupies my mind a lot, but we've had our 5 or 6 chances. It's over. OK, you might say "What about work?" My answer is that I could do some part time mentoring but frankly I have no passion for it. I'd much rather go into business with someone. Maybe if my health continues to be reasonable, I might find something. I need to push myself out of my comfort zone but within reason. There are many things I simply can't do. Working on a fixed schedule is one. Traveling, golf and movies are terrific interests and consume some time but they're not challenging. Golf is of course, but my golf days are probably over.

So I wonder if there's something else out there that will fire me up. Maybe I can get back into writing and get my damned book published. I'm done with the first draft and first edit, but there's a ton of work left - hard work. Getting published would certainly juice me up though.

Thanks for reading. I'll do better next time.

Random Rants

* I've been looking for something to write about that didn't concern my health and that I could be a wise ass about. Here's what I came up with.

* Cleavage. Yes, you heard me - Cleavage. SInce the invention of the Wonderbra we have lived in the age of in your face cleavage. ("Wonderbra is the tradename for an underwired bra with side padding that is designed to uplift and add cleavage.") I guess I'm not complaining but even a ladies' man like me can feel a bit uncomfortable when you tun around and BAM! there it is right in your face.

Ok, fine. It's not going to change for a while. But I about wet myself when I first saw an ad for the Cammi Secret. This amazing little invention is both the analog of and the opposite of the dickie. You remember that fabulous fake turtleneck that guys wore under a sweater or sport coat. Well the Cammi Secret is a piece of fabric that a woman can wear under her sweater or top to expose as little or as much cleavage as she desires. Of course, it comes in a variety of fabulous colors and is sutiable for any occasion. And guess what. If you order now, they will send you a second Cammi Secret for free - all you do is pay shipping and handling. (Of course shipping and handling is about the same as the cost of the damn thing.)

* Five pet peeves about sports:

--Joe Pa. That's right, Joe Paterno the venerable 83 year old "head coach" of Penn State's football team. Would everybody who says that Joe Pa has "earned the right" to decide when he wants to retire please shut up. He has not earned that right to stay in the job as long as he wants. No one earns the right to keep their job for as long as they want. For one damn thing, employment is a privilege not a right. For another, he man isn't even the damn coach. He's a figure head who hasn't actually coached the team in years. They won't even give him headphones. He is treated like some kind of old school icon. He's just an arrogant old man who can't let go. He is long past the time where he could have retired with some dignity and class. I acknowledge the man's accomplishments which are many; but he's no saint. His cronie Bobby Bowden was unceremoniously booted at Florida Sate last year. Apparently the administration at FSU has a bigger set than those guys at Penn State. Joe Pa, you're not a lovable old curmudgeon; you're a self-absorbed old man who doesn't have the decency to quit.

--Lane Kiffin. How does this arrogant little prick get the head coaching jobs at Tennessee and Southern Cal in consecutive years? What's so compelling about your resume, Lane?

--The Miami Heat. Hard to think of anything that has not been said or written about their off season signing of LeBron, Dwayne and Chris. How about this? (1) The Miami Heat do not have three superstars. Chris Bosch is an All Star but nowhere near the status of his new teammates. (2) By instantly becoming the most hated team in the NBA they will be the biggest road attraction in the league. David Stern must be wetting his pants he's so happy. BTW, don't expect them to beat the Lakers - who have now ceased to be the most hated team in the NBA.

--What's His Name. The guy who plays quarterback for the Vikings has in the course of three short years gone from the personification of youthful exuberance and the consummate football player to pampered prima donna that everybody is sick of. Nice job Brett!

--High School Sports on ESPN. Really? Is there not enough evidence of how the lure of big money in pro sports has messed up enough immature kids that ESPN could not police themselves and just say no. Just because there's an audience for it doesn't mean it has to be covered. ESPN is so ubiquitous that there will be plenty of opportunities for national exposure if these young athletes are in fact any good.



* But seriously folks. Thanks for all the interest, support and concern you have all shown to me during my recent health problems.

See you in church . . .

Is it Big Jim or Grandpa Jim?

I had no idea! I knew I would be happy when my older daughter gave birth to her first child, but I was not prepared for how unbelievably happy I would be. I met my grandson when he was less than two hours old and he is incredible. Normally I don't use real names in my writings, but Beckett Barcelona Kneisel is such a wonderful name that I must show it off. Besides, he's only been using it for three days -- I'm sure he'd be okay with it. He arrived on July 3, the very date on which is was due. What a beautiful baby! Everyone thinks their baby is beautiful, but Beckett really is.

What a joy to hold a newborn again. I haven't held an infant since my youngest, Anthony (of course that's not his real name) was born almost 21 years ago. I love babies - all babies. But now I know that having a grandchild is just as great an experience as having your own kids. I could just sit and watch an infant for hours on end. They are so fascinating and fascinated. As my son-in-law said to me, it's hard to imagine a baby could be just two days old. How could anyone be so young? Forty-eight hours ago he was floating in a warm wet bath just riding along with his mom and then Bang! He's out in the world. He has to learn to breathe air, see light, stretch his limbs, cry, gurgle and the dozens of other things he has to do for the first time after he comes sliding on out of the womb.

It's hard to express how happy this child makes me. I absolutely feel better physically and mentally since the moment I saw him. What wonderful memories it brought back. Nothing compares to having children and it's immediately clear to me that the love and pride I feel for my four amazing children will be exactly what I'll feel for Beckett.

Now the question arises. What will he call me? What would I like him to call me? Grandfathers do not seem to have a group of idiotic nicknames like grandmothers do. You know: Nana, Gammy (You've got to be shitting me!), Mee Maw (OH MY GOD!!!!), Big Mama, Gommy and so forth. Grandpa Jim would seem to be pretty standard for me; but I like Big Jim because it's what my daughter-in-law calls me. Although I don't think of myself as big, I am pretty huge next to my daughters. Big Jim has a note of authority to it, don't you think? Well maybe it sounds like the patriarch on Dallas but we'll see.

Beckett, you marvelous young man, thank you for coming into this world. I know your parents are delighted and I am so proud of them and of you.