I laugh to myself every time I think about it, and I’m not sure if I should, or whether a bit of angst is the more logical response—as if angst ever had a thing to do with logic. When I was finishing my last stint as a 2005 Red Kettle bell ringer, Jeanne saw me at the Wal-Mart grocery entrance. She told me she was thinking of Grandy-bo because I was wearing the Hudson Bay coat that originally belonged to William Breidenbach, and she remembered that Dadbo wore it for a few years after Dana gave it to him. She didn’t realize it was me at first. We were having a sweet brother-sister moment when my Rotarian replacement arrived, a lady who’s a top employee at one of our client businesses. Jeanne put her arms around me and gave me a kiss. I said, “See you tomorrow night.” It wasn’t until later that I recalled the odd look on the woman’s face when I handed her the bell and wished her a Merry Christmas…
Archive for the ‘Family’ Category
It was some blonde… I don’t know who she is
Saturday, December 24th, 2005Check out Chicago’s proposed Fordham Spire
Thursday, December 22nd, 2005I rang the bell tonight during the last kettle hour at Wal-Mart, and I think it was the heaviest kettle I’ve ever held. I hope we make our $60,000 goal by Saturday. Marty showed up and came with me to our house for the night. After supper, he turned me on to a cool Website, if you like skyscrapers (and who doesn’t?).
Don’t ask me, wait and see
Wednesday, December 21st, 2005After spending a night in critical care, Bruce is being released to a regular room. They replaced tube lines that were the likely source of infection. Aside from the pain associated with that procedure, he seems to be doing well, and all his test results look good.
Dr. Tam — Paging Dr. Simon Tam
Tuesday, December 20th, 2005With less than a week ’til Christmas, it’s not happy news to find out that Bruce is being admitted back into Methodist Hospital tonight. He started to run a fever after Dana left this weekend, and his temperature climbed above 103 degrees by the end of his dialysis treatment today. Something undesirable is clearly working again on the inside, so it’s best they get to the bottom of it promptly.
Tales of the Graybeard Prospector V
Monday, December 19th, 2005• Sometimes it takes awhile for a prospecting effort to result in a strike. I can’t remember exactly when the Dixon Family Reunion was held at the Blue Bank Farm (May 2004?), but by the time it was over, my cousin Joe and I had made the first step toward exploring a working relationship. He runs a company in Virginia and was looking to support his sales and corporate identity objectives with a higher level of visual design. We continued to talk, and when Bruce was in the hospital last spring, Joe even stopped there once to make a connection. Yesterday we talked again and I knew it was the moment to close the sale. I think he knew it, too. I’m excited about what 2006 holds in store, and this is one more good reason.
Thar’s gold in them thar hills!
Clean and shiny
Saturday, December 17th, 2005Day started out great when I got tricked into an eight-miler, even though my head meter was stuck on six. By the time I got home, I was psyched to make some art, and then I found out the good news—Dana had just blown town and would be back to Danville by evening, which means Bruce has improved enough to say “Go home, Mom.” Better tidy up the kitchen!
Magic Island
Wednesday, December 14th, 2005I saw Joan’s mention of Aunt Carol’s game.
Beverages included? What about spices?
Ok, ok…
If I spend any more time, I’ll just keep fiddling around with them, so here are my picks—
Corn, tomatoes, spinach, almonds, eggs, cheese, avocados, vanilla ice cream, strawberries, and raspberries.
And we get to share, right?
How about if we add to the game?
I wasn’t there at the genesis, but what if we discovered a chest on Magic Island containing three books—a Holy Bible, the Complete Works of William Shakespeare, and Webster’s Dictionary of the English Language (unabridged)—and each of us could pick three additional books, which the chest would produce for our group library. There would be no other books on Magic Island—for the rest of our lives.
What three volumes would you choose?
Here are my selections—
The I Ching (or Book of Changes), The Odyssey of Homer, and James Clavell’s SHÕGUN.
When faced with picking books with pictures or books with words, I chose words. When faced with making more universal choices or being selfish, I decided to be selfish.
What about you?
Would you pick a how-to book, a cookbook (not a bad idea), or a collection of reproductions? Literature? What about a book with blank pages—no other books on Magic Island means just that—or a work you’d want the other inhabitants to read?
Nobody knows how long the chest’s magic will last.
Hurry, but choose wisely…
And the nominees are
Monday, December 12th, 2005Dana made the trip back to Indiana today so she could help Bruce get acclimated at home again, hoping there’s truth in the old saying, “third time’s a charm.” Uncertainties about the security of his pain medications required her to personally sign and take responsibility for the powerful drugs, but I won’t be going into all that here. Suffice it to say—the long saga continues in Hoosierland, and this woman deserves to receive the 2005 “Mother of the Year” award.
Bust out
Sunday, December 11th, 2005After yesterday’s cancelled release, I wasn’t sure how long it would be, but Bruce learned from his doctors today that he gets to go home tomorrow. They’ve stopped all antibiotics, so this will be an important opportunity for his own bodily defenses to kick back in. He’ll undoubtedly have a few ups and downs—par for the course with dialysis. Nevertheless, I think his home care is really going to stick this time around.
:::: “Thank you. Merry Christmas. God bless you.” :::
Saturday, December 10th, 2005I’m tired. It was a long day that started out with Dana preparing to drive to Indianapolis, but I found out after I’d been in Liberty for a while that it was a false alarm, and Bruce wasn’t really going to be released, because his blood pressure had dropped too low during dialysis. I spent a lot of time on my feet in the cold ringing the bell for the “no shows,” but it was nice to see members of the Clan, and the red kettles felt heavy at the end of the day (especially the Pamida one), and I also had a good conversation with Kyle Durham, Seth’s mentor, after we’d shut down our Saturday operation for another week.
Various & Sundry, part twenty-nine
Thursday, December 8th, 2005— At tonight’s local GOP Christmas reception, several Republican heavy hitters put on a full-court press, trying to convince me to run for public office in 2006. It’s nice to know I’m on the short list, but the timing couldn’t be worse.
— While we’re on the subject of politics, I was happy to learn that Seth was elected Governor for the 2006 session of the Kentucky Youth Assembly (YMCA). Couldn’t have happened to a better man. Congratulations!
— I surprised myself at the pool today, coming within a second of my 50-yard PR. I haven’t even been practicing my sprints lately, so I don’t know what to make of it.
— Just had to hit the chuck wagon for second helpings, watching the “Firefly” pilot again to catch things I missed on the first viewing. I realize now that I was totally hooked by the time Kaylee got shot and willingly chomped down hard on the barb when I saw Zoe with her “mare’s leg.” I guess Joss Whedon has my number, and Brendan was the first to know it!
— Although I’ve never included John Lennon on my list of personal heroes, when I look back on his art, cultural innovations, and powerful position as a generational role model, I have to consider that he probably had a more profound influence on my life than I’d care to admit. 25 years?
— Bruce is dealing with some post-op pain, but says he’s feeling better every day. They took out the “rubber band drain” in his back, another good indication of progress. I hope he improves enough to be settled back in his home by Christmas.
Careful how you answer, son… I’m a might twitchy
Wednesday, December 7th, 2005We watched the “Firefly” pilot last night. This is from the box that Brendan loaned to us, and I want him to kindly tell me this is not the only group of available episodes.
There’s got to be more than this one little packet.
Please, please tell me there are more…
It’s a grand slam
Tuesday, December 6th, 2005Dana and I decided to just go all the way with a “biopic grand slam,” and so we borrowed “Ray” from the library. Every so often I watch an Oscar-winner at work (Nicolas Cage in “Leaving Las Vegas” comes to mind) and I think, “Is this truly a performance that deserved an Academy Award?” This was definitely not one of those times. I’ll leave it to others more gifted than me to characterize Jamie Foxx’s phenomenal achievement.
As far as the movie goes, it makes “Beyond the Sea” look anemic by comparison—the difference between an obvious indie project and a big commercial picture with the highest production values. “Ray” is one of the best sounding Hollywood products in recent memory. The sound mixers deserved their awards every bit as much as the lead actor. Superbly directed, designed, and edited, the film is a technical masterpiece, but was it a better picture than “Million Dollar Baby?” No—because Clint delivers the full package that your heart is yearning for when you choose a movie like this. “Ray” has its moments—quite a few, and they’re exceptional—but failed to sustain a deep emotional connection for me. I cared more about whether Johnny Cash overcame his addiction in “Walk the Line,” and I really don’t think it was a function of who Ray Charles was or how good a job Jamie Foxx did.
I’ll continue to contemplate the similarities and contrasts of the four musical biographies I’ve discussed in my last two entries, and why one or another excelled in a particular area. In any case, each one of them is well worth the time, but now I plan to accept a couple new assignments in the spare-time department—the complete “Firefly” collection plus an early Paul Watkins novel…
The Manifesto
Saturday, December 3rd, 2005Someday I’ll have to detail the story of how Dana and Pam, exasperated by the red tape and bureaucratic idiocy of the Medicaid system, decided to pick up the phone and call the Governor of Indiana. Long story short—his office cut through the nonsense and Bruce got the help he needed. My take on it was, “This is how government should work when government doesn’t work.”
Not long after that happened, I read George Will’s column about Mitch Daniels and the possibility that what he’s doing with Indiana state government is the wave of the future in the political world. I suddenly had this consuming desire to reassess my role as a Kentucky Commissioner—to develop a comprehensive vision and philosophical position with respect to my advocacy of bicycle and pedestrian issues. If I don’t have a coherent stance in support of non-motorized infrastructure enhancements, I run the risk of coming off as just another pork-barrel Republican or free-spending Democrat. I have to be able to articulate the advantages of increased exercise as a disease-reducing activity worthy of public investment versus the unchecked explosion of costs to maintain the Medicare/Medicaid entitlement promised to aging baby-boomers.
The way I see it, we have a window of opportunity to be proactive. If we don’t address the current and future demand side of the equation, we’ll never be able to handle the supply side commitments without screwing our combined standard of living and quality of life in America. We’ve concocted a scheme to overwhelm a health-care system that’s already too expensive (read my log entry from Thursday).
I’ve got to make sense of this. Maybe it could become a Clan project!
• Uncle Jerome could summarize the latest empirical evidence on exercise.
• Caitlan could investigate the macro-economic cost/benefit relationships.
• Brendan could explore how to communicate the practical aspects of alternative transportation.
• Ian could reinforce it all with an easy-to-digest philosophical paradigm that would fit on a 10th Planet T-shirt!
Relax, Uncle John… You’re really getting carried away this time.
Watkins rocks
Friday, December 2nd, 2005I was mildly freaked out when Ian told me on Thanksgiving that he ordered “The Forger” based on my recommendation at this site. I hope he’s not disappointed. One never knows if another will have a response to a work of fiction similar to one’s own. I think he may find interesting the parallel between a young man living alone in Paris and his own solitary travel to an unfamiliar city.
But Halifax had it easy. He only had to deal with the Gestapo.
Various & Sundry, part twenty-eight
Thursday, December 1st, 2005— Month of November workout totals: Swim-7; Bike-0; Run-3; Lift-0; Yoga-0
— If I keep up this exercise pattern, I won’t be able to call myself a triathlete any more. It’s interesting that during these weeks of low-grade anxiety and stress, I’ve fallen back primarily on what was my “boyhood sport.” Since those days of backyard family fun and our frigid plunges at Dunn’s pool, swimming has always been my favorite physical activity. (Don’t tell anybody on the Bicycle Commission!) More than that, being a lifeguard enabled me to escape unpleasant fast-food and grocery jobs, providing a foundation of employment during my youth until I developed entry-level creative skills. Truthfully, I never understood why a young guy would want to work all day when he could build a nice tan while observing pretty girls in bikinis.
— Dana and I were badly in need of some soul nourishment, so we visited the Indianapolis Museum of Art this morning before our stop at the hospital. The special exhibition we “accidentally” found out about and then had to see—International Arts and Crafts—was even more astonishing than we’d hoped for. It was so phenomenally well-done, I have to think back to the famous Tutankhamen or Impressionist exhibitions, or my experiences at the Van Gogh, Rodin, or Tate galleries in Europe, to find any parallels. This one will stick with me for a long, long time and open up many new areas of personal investigation. The
Speed Museum was still open when we came through Louisville tonight, so we caught about an hour of Mary Ann Currier. Fortunately, her stunning work can be appreciated purely at the sensory level, because the show at the IMA had thoroughly exhausted my capacity for intellectual delight.
— I can’t get over the costs involved in maintaining Bruce‘s extraordinary care. Prior to his recent surgery I saw him get a 1-ml intramuscular injection that carried a $1,000 price tag. That’s a million dollars a liter, for cryin’ out loud! The night before we came home, the lab prepared a bag of custom-mixed IV nutrition that was worth $1,500, but for some unknown reason Bruce refused to take it. Certain people were not very happy about that. I’m beginning to think his months-long iron will is morphing into a bored, laid-back stubbornness. He needs to get out of the frickin’ hospital.
On earth we your children invoke your sweet name
Wednesday, November 30th, 2005Bruce is out of surgery, doing well, and will go directly back to the fifth-floor renal unit rather than into critical care, and that’s the best news of the day. The surgeon said he broke up and removed a pool of pus around the spleen the size of a “small dinner plate.” He irrigated the area and put in a “rubber-band drain.” When I asked him if he had to remove the spleen (something they warned might be necessary), he said, “No.” It looks to me like he tried to get the most benefit from the shortest procedure and smallest incision, since Bruce can’t handle much time under anaesthesia until he gets stronger. This postpones for another operation the intestinal reconnection and a minor pocket of infection around his nonfunctional, transplanted kidney, which could disappear on its own, if all goes well after today.
Pam said she was told that Bruce is only the second patient in the history of the medical center to survive this long after such a severe case of pancreatitis.
Ave, Ave, Ave, Maria.
Indiana… take my hand. Let it go
Tuesday, November 29th, 2005Yesterday my gray matter felt like a gooey mollusk, but today it’s firing in hypermode, typical of the period leading up to an Indy departure.
I sincerely look forward to seeing Bruce, while at the same time admitting that I detest almost everything else about these trips.
Maybe it’s my brain that’s a slug
Monday, November 28th, 2005Bruce‘s surgery is scheduled for Wednesday, so we plan to head out Tuesday evening. In order to keep the operation as short as possible, they plan to deal with the most troublesome pockets of infection by operating through his back.
I see I haven’t been very talkative in my recent entries, but I can’t explain it. Everything that’s going on right now evades my verbal capacities.
“When the mind is actively and vitally at work, for its own creative uses, it has no time for word-building: words are too clumsy: you have no time to select and group them. Hence you must think in terms of images, pictures, of states of feeling, of rhythm… Writing is but the slow, snail-like creeping of words, climbing laboriously over a little structure that resembles the thought: meanwhile the mind has gone on and on, here and yonder and back and out and back again.”
—Louis H. Sullivan, 1934
Standing by
Sunday, November 27th, 2005Our trip to Indy is on hold until we learn more about the surgeon’s outlook.
Expecting a decision
Saturday, November 26th, 2005It looks like Bruce will find out on Monday how soon he’ll be having surgery, so I’ll be returning to Indianapolis with Dana tomorrow.