Pooched...

Pooched...

Many of my regular readers know we had little scare last night with ma mère. What to my uneducated eyes looked like stroke turns out is probably hyperthyroid. Once the diagnosis came in the early this morning a bunch of facts clicked into place like the tumblers in a combination lock. But prior to that I lived through 14 intense hours. We're waiting for final confirmation and a doc visit first thing tomorrow morning, and then we're expecting them to release her. She wondered if she should call a cab for the ride home tomorrow morning, so you can see her sense of humor, unlike her dignity, was undamaged.

All in all, things couldn't have fallen apart in a better way, if that makes any sense. As we sat through what seemed like interminable waits for tests and test results last night we kept shaking our heads. One of those trite slogans that you see on church billboards that I tend to roll my eyes at but find myself puzzling over last night is 'Coincidences are what happens when God wishes to stay anonymous.'

Cynics shake your heads. It's OK. I'm not what you would call sure.

For now I'm relieved. Pooched. Sorry I missed the company's 25th anniversary bash, but grateful it all worked out as it did. And as I write this my neighbor's dog, loose from his normal tether, keeps sidling up to me to get a scratch on the top of his tan, slobbering head. I call him 'Buddy' because I don't know Spanish.

Increased...

Increased...

I drove - or more accurately 'rode' since someone else did all the driving - in a car all the way to Cincinnati this morning. What a wonderful way to travel. I'm not talking about driving. I'm talking about Anything Other Than Flying.

Sometime during the drive my companion reminded me of one of my pet peeves - the one that is a noxious combination of airline travel with official bullshitspeak (or is it bushshitspeak?).

I'm talking about the announcement that all airports seem required to air ever 10 minutes or so. It goes something like this: "The Secretary of Homeland Security has increased the Homeland Security Advisory System Threat Condition to High, or Orange, indicating serious threat of terrorist actitivity... "

Now I have no doubt that we are under a 'serious threat.' With our bad behavior on the world scene, is there anyone who doesn't want to take a shot at us? And maybe if I felt the toy cops at the TSA stations had a prayer of stopping that 80 year old grandmother boarding in front of me from overpowering the stewardess and flying our plane into the Hancock Building in Chicago, I'd be more supportive of the whole idea. But I'm not confident or supportive.

But what really bugs me about this announcement is the word 'increased'.

The first time I heard that message I thought, 'Oh my God. I better turn on the news and find out what happened.' Everyone in the airport roused my suspicion. I watched my bag to make sure no one furtively planted a bomb in it. I made note of any suspicious activity. Then my flight went fine. A few days later I got on the plane again and flew home and - except for my increased anxiety - everything was just fine. Then the next time I flew - probably a couple weeks later - I heard the same message about increased threat levels and my first thought was 'oh my God...' and then I thought, 'Wait a second. Wasn't it orange the last time I flew?'

That was at least a year ago., and I'm still hearing the same message. I no longer think 'Oh my God...' Instead I think about how fed up I am with living with a constant barrage of fear mongering. A much more honest message would say simply "The Secretary for Homeland Security has set the threat advisory to orange..." A really honest message would be something like "The Secretary of Homeland Security set the threat level at orange. The best thing we can tell you is to be a little suspicious and watchful. Other than that there isn't much you can do if someone really wants to terrorize you. But rather than watching your bag, what you should really do is stop the war in Iraq and stop driving a vehicle that gets less than 50 miles per gallon."

In other news....

As I said, I'm in Cinci tonight. I'm making a sales presentation tomorrow, and I spent today getting ready for it. I'm pretty confident this one will be a home run.

M-13 days and counting...

M-13 days and counting...

I'm under two weeks to closing, possession and moving. I'm so (emotionally) ready. Tonight I biked past my new place and the current owners are loading up trucks and trailers. I don't know why this should take them 2 weeks yet, but I'm trying to stay patient. They do have a lot of stuff.

I think I'm pretty well organized and ready to rock and roll:

• Mortgage? check.
• House insurance? check.
• Gas & Electric? check.
• Water & Sewer? check.
• Phone & Internet? check.
• Truck? check.
• Moving crew? check.
• Packed? Well, no. But most of the stuff is in storage. I'll get that all organized on the 4th.

What am I forgetting?

This move falls one day less than 9 months from moving out of Greenwood. I won't push too hard on THAT analogy. But it has been period of death, grieving, gestation and birth. And birth.

It also falls exactly 12 months after the start of my silent, directed retreat last summer. Hum...

Speaking of massive change, I think my friend the helicopter pilot just flew over my house. I'm pretty sure he is due back tonight from his trip to Colorado! Amazing: he took his first lessons just last August.

Mosquitoes are starting to come out! Time to go inside.

Home again, home again...

Home again, home again...

All flights in this 3rd and last leg of my trip were on time. I had the aisle seat in the very back row. God, I hate red-eyes. I took this one because I didn't want to spend my whole Saturday traveling. Plus it saved the company probably $500. But when I got off the plane in Chicago I felt like death warmed over. Is any price worth this? I'll spare you my complaints, but suffice it to say the plane was crowded, dry, and, since I was in the last row by the latrine, smelly. Blech.

Enough whining about travel.

Last post I bitched about Cheney. The report I was referring to is the AP story the other day that there was a meeting scheduled among the bushwackers to debate closing the Guantanamo Bay detention center. The press jumped all over the story, and the bushwackers denied there was any such meeting. Then at yesterday's press briefing here is how the Dana Perino responded to questions:

Q Can we go on to Guantanamo? Was there a meeting scheduled for today to discuss Guantanamo?

MS. PERINO: There's meetings scheduled regularly to talk about Guantanamo, they happen frequently, they happen often, because people are charged with the responsibilities that the President has given them to try to close down that facility. Yes, there was going to be a meeting today, but there was a determination that it wasn't needed.

Q Was it because of the AP story?

MS. PERINO: I think that the decision to make -- to not have the meeting happened late in the day after that story came out.

Q So it was because of that?

MS. PERINO: What I can tell you is that meeting was not a decisional meeting...

So there was a meeting scheduled. After the AP story broke, the meeting was canceled and they denied that one had ever been scheduled. Then once the heat was off the story that they were considering closing the detention center, they admitted that there had been a meeting scheduled, but it was just a routine meeting. Balogna.

Cheney genuinely scares me. The companion story is his refusal to comply with the Executive Order 12958 requiring all Executive Branch offices to report on their use of classified information. Both Bush and Cheney claim they are exempt because they are not part of the Executive Branch.

To quote Angry Black Bitch: Blink.

Not part of the Executive Branch?

OK, I'm not very smart, and I'm certainly no expert on law. But I took American Government from Miss Wilken at North Side Junior High School, and she taught me that they ARE the Executive Branch. I know I didn't fall asleep at that point because Ruby would NEVER let that happen in her class. But like I say, I'm really not that smart so maybe I misunderstood her.

What scares me is that the bushwackers seem to think they are above the law.

And they lie about little things (there was no meeting scheduled) and big things (WMD).

I have an idea: Rather than withdraw our troups from Iraq, lets replace them with the two most powerful men in the world: Bush and Cheney. Two birds with one stone...

PCH...

PCH...

I've been in the LA area for the last couple of days. Today I had three customer visits - one of which took me 3 hours of driving to get to - and it was just 75 miles north. Ah the LA freeway.

At the end of my last appointment, I asked my host about traffic heading back to LAX. He advised me avoid traffic by dropping South on Kanan Rd to the Pacific Coast Highway. The route took me over a beautiful, rugged hills down to Malibu, and then back East along the PCH. I stopped a couple of times for the view. The smells were so refreshing - sage up in the mountains and then the ocean. I had forgot all of those smells. It was such a wonderful surprise. An antidote to the freeway drive. Of course all of that ended when I got down to Santa Monica and back on I10. But for maybe an hour the landscape nourished my soul.

I ended up at a Panera (free wifi does it again). While I waited in line a father was playing 'Tommy says' with his very cute 4 yr old daughter. 'Tommy says take a step forward.' 'Tommy says rub your stomach.' 'Tommy says rub your stomach and pat your head at the same time.' They were fun to watch.

One thing that I enjoy about LA - and I suppose about most places - is the diversity of the people. So many colors and languages. All kinds of interesting dress and decorations.

Driving the freeway listening to NPR talking about Cheney in the news today: refusing to discuss Gitmo, and refusing to turn over records about secret investigations. The Gitmo stuff: lies - lies - lies. I don't have time to get into it now, but that guy is awful!

I gotta get moving now: drop off my rental car, check in for my flight. I take off at 11:40, arriving in Chicago at 5:30am. I get back to SBN at maybe 8:30. I'm not looking forward to this one, but it will pass.

Immigration...

Immigration...

I wish I could write like this.

In other news, I am in Santa Ana, CA tonight. My trip is going well if you don't count the travel. I've had two nights in a row with 2+ hour delays in crowded airports. Last night it was the United Airlines debacle. Tomorrow night I catch a red eye back home, arriving mid-morning Saturday. Maybe I'll have time for a longer post tomorrow while I'm waiting for my flight at the Panera by LAX.

More on Towels...

More on Towels...

A friend stopped me today and made a point of telling me that when she has stayed at a Doubletree for more than one night, and she has hung her towels on the rack, they have left them alone.

So maybe my cynicism is unfounded. Maybe... Any other data out there?

"Your call is important to me..."

"Your call is important to me..."

If you were to call my office when I'm not in and you left me a voice mail message, you'd hear something like this:

"Hi, you've reached my voice mail and here is how it works. If you a customer or a business associate with whom I already have a relationship, please leave me a detailed message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. If you are a sales person and we have no prior relationship, leave me a detailed message and if I'm interested I'll get back to you. If I'm not interested you won't hear from me. Its nothing personal. I just can't respond to everyone who wants to sell me something."

You wouldn't believe how many people leave messages telling me how refreshing it is to hear someone actually tell the truth about how their messages will be handled. (Not 'Your call is very important to me and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.')

I was thinking of that today because twice in the last two days I picked up and actually read the USA Today that was left outside my hotel room door in the middle of the night.

Some of my friends have been shaking their heads in dismay that I've been on a quasi sabbatical from 'the news' for nearly the last year. It started right after my retreat last summer when I felt the news really wasn't, well, that important. OK. I admit, I'm sticking my head in the sand. But really. Here is what I know that was true then and is true today:

• Where in a hell of a mess in Iraq.
• It is going to get worse before it gets better.
• A lot of people are dying and it is senseless.
• Things are getting worse in Palestine.
• Our president is clueless.
• His administration is corrupt.

I'm sure I missed a lot of things, but in the nearly 12 months since I read a newspaper cover to cover these really important things haven't changed. (Not withstanding, I couldn't help pumping my fist ("YES!") when I heard the judge turned down Scooter's request to stay out of jail until his appeal was heard.)

One thing that I noticed has changed is that after nearly a year off, I believe very little of what I read. If a story quotes some study, I want to know who paid for it. If it quotes some government bureaucrat, I raise my eyebrows. If it quotes someone in the bush administration, I roll my eyes.

The other night I stayed in a Doubletree, which is part of the Hyatt chain. I've stayed in lots of hyatts over the years, and some time ago they started posting a little sign in the rooms that talks about how important it is to protect the environment and how each of us can do our part by, if we're staying more than one night, hanging our towels up. "Towel on the rack means I'll use it again. Towel on the floor means give me a clean one." Except they say it in some cute litte rhyme. In all the times I've stayed at a Hyatt, I've ALWAYS been given a new towel.

So pardon my skepticism: I think their signs are a bunch of crap designed to enhance their corporate image. Can anyone give me evidence to the contrary?

I'm well aware that I'm just as capable as the next guy of lying to myself and to others. But in my voice mail message I've taken a stand that truth matters, even if it is something as innocuous as whether I'll return your call.

And I'm still not sure if I'm going to renew my newspaper subscription.

Road warrior...

Road warrior...

I'm livin' the dream. Tonight I'm in Dallas. For a reasons not exactly known to me (Ok, I wasn't paying attention... if I had paid attention I could have booked a an evening flight back to Chicago, but I'm stuck here now) I'm sleeping tonight on hotel row on the north end of DFW. Hotel row is maybe 8 or 10 of the national chain hotels crammed into three Texas blocks. There's a Homestead Inn, Hampton Inn, Fairfield Inn, Sleep Inn, Hawthorn Suites, Motel 6, Super 8, Red Roof, Best Western, Worst Western and probably a couple others. There are probably rooms for a couple thousand people in this little enclave.

Now, would you like to guess how many restaurants there are within walking distance?

If you count the WhataBurger in the convenience store at the edge of it all, there is exactly one. I'd like to know who the bone head was who said "lets plop a bunch of hotels by the airport and then make it impossible to get any food without driving."

I don't have a car.

Texas, at least by DFW, is not walker friendly. (Actually there are big stretches were there are sidewalks, but that doesn't compensate for the suvs and trucks.)

I went for a run earlier this evening and in 20 minutes had a couple of near-misses. (I don't think it was a case of "Look Marge, a runner. Let's hit him." I think it was more "Say, Marge, did you just hear a thump?")

Anyhow, my hotel offers a happy hour, which turned out to be free beer, with chips, pretzels, spring rolls, salsa, and some kind of little deep fried triangles. I filled a couple little plates, washed them down with a couple of buds all the while avoiding stories in the local paper about Paris Hilton.

Tomorrow I've got to be up in time to catch a 6am flight.

Is this the life?

I'll spend tomorrow in Chicago calling on customers, and get home sometime in the evening. My trip to Cinci got postponed / canceled.

Time to stop whining.

Lark's Car Wash & Ribs...

Lark's Car Wash & Ribs...

Last night the Owls (formerly screech, now barn) played a gig up at the Box Factory in St. Joe. We got up there in plenty of time to run over to Willie Lark's Bar-B-Q and Car Wash. Lark's was recommended by a friend of my brother's.

It really is a car wash: the chief griller was working on a big Kenworth with a sleeper cab while we ate, stopping every few minutes to give things a flip on the smoker. You walk into this little storefront - really the office of one of those old style gas stations that have mostly been torn down and replaced with 7/11s - and the smell of grilling gets your mouth watering. I thought I might swoon.

It was early, so there were lots of ribs coming in off the grill. In a few minutes I had my half slab and was out the door. We were going to grab them and run back to the hall to eat, but a couple of our crew ordered fish sandwiches and they had to be prepared specially for them. As we waited, the smell got to me and I opened my box and started eating.

These were grilled dry, and then smothered in a fantastic spicy sauce, complete with a couple big potato wedges and three slabs of white wonder bread! The sauce was just hot enough to get your nose running a little, which was kind of interesting since it was hard not to have sauce up to your elbows in the first few minutes. I managed because Willie thoughtfully stuffed my bag full of paper towels, and I could more or less keep the mess from spreading too far.

It was fantastic! Makes me hungry all over again for them. Might be worth a road trip just for the ribs.

The gig went well. Very small crowd, but appreciative. Playing out with my new mandolin is so cool, and my fiddle isn't such a bad instrument either. I love having these beautiful instruments to play on. They're a huge part of the fun.

In other news... I'm traveling a bunch in the next couple weeks. Tuesday I fly to Dallas, returning to Chicago Thursday AM, then driving straight to Cinci for a meeting there Friday. I expect to get home sometime late Friday. Then the following week I'm flying to Denver, again on Tuesday, then on to LA Wednesday night. I'll catch the red eye back from LA Friday night and get back home sometime Saturday morning. (I swore years ago that I'd never take another red eye, but I've forgotten how painful they are and I'll have most of Saturday, instead of giving up the whole day. )

When I get back from LA, I'll just have two weeks left with the girly angels before I get into my new digs.

Oh - and Happy Birthday to Joe. Doesn't seem possible that it is 39 years. And congrats on the Chapin award. Well deserved!

Crimson...

Crimson...

Tonight I went to hear, or more accurately see, my brother's daughter sing in the Crimsonaires, our high school's swing choir. As a listener, swing choirs aren't exactly in my sweet spot.

But I really had to see my niece in a floofy dress, with fluttering hands and the crimsonaire's smile. She's always seemed to prefer sweat pants, so it was fascinating to see this other side of her so publicly displayed.

Great Job, Nor.

Actually the last piece of the night had me in tears. I think it was something like 'You'll always be in my heart', sung sitting quietly (the least swingy of the pieces) at the front of the stage while pictures of the choir members as little kids were projected behind them on the stage.

Sigh.

Even though my kids are well out of high school, I still know enough of those kids (and their parents) to remember them in those preschool and elementary years.

Some how it got me right in the gut. I know it's a cliche, but it just seems like yesterday. Where did the time go? Sure the emotions are intensified by the changes I've been though in the last year, but it's also more than that. It's about aging and a profound sense of loss.

It's a good thing I haven't been drinking. I'd be positively maudlin.

Music, Music, for everyone...

Music, Music, for everyone...

Three gigs, three bands, three nights turned into four gigs, four bands, four nights if you count playing for my Aunt's funeral this afternoon. The family asked my brother and I to play a couple of hymns for prelude and postlude, so we worked them up on violin and guitar. My uncle seemed to appreciate it; several people told us he didn't want to leave when the minister got up to usher him out.

Last night the Owls played a little festival in neighboring Plymouth. It is a new, one-day folk/historical celebration. They had half a dozen bands at an outdoor stage through the day. We played a one-hour set in mid-afternoon, and then, under threatening skies, we played for two hours of dancing. By the end of a night like that my bow hand is starting to go numb and hurt at the same time. But it is usually fun to play for dancers, and this was no exception.

Friday night the Heisenberg Quintet (oh, but a clarinetist showed up late, so we became the Heisenberg Sextet) played at Rachel's. That event rated a 9 or 10 on the fun scale. We had a fantastic audience, and it is amazing how much difference that makes. The biggest group was an extended (three generations) family who were having a great time already, and they seemed to really enjoy it. During one number the family patriarch got up and danced with his daughter. Plus the jazz clarinet player sounded great, and all that helped us sound better too.

The other unseen benefit to the Heisenbery gig was that it got that song we recorded Thursday out of my mind; which was just in the nick of time.