Working on the family movie has been fun, and I’ll be somewhat sad to see it finished. I don’t think I can imagine a young person taking a project more seriously than Seth is taking the completion of “Pirate Revenge.” I can tell that it’s a bit painful for him to watch me insert gags and “camp it up” (in the old Dixon manner of my generation), and when we talked about continuing to tweak it, I shared the George Lucas quote, “No film is ever finished, only abandoned.” Seth thought that was depressing. Marty, who came along to work with us one night, wanted to know if I saw the essence of the piece as drama or comedy. I said, “If anyone can tell, then Seth and I have failed.”
Archive for the ‘Family’ Category
Twelve years later and worth the wait
Monday, August 8th, 2005My heart is once again laden with gratitude
Sunday, August 7th, 2005After yesterday’s race, I had lunch with David in Lexington and hit the gun show, where we bought supplies for our deer ammo project and I bought a soft case for my Marlin. Dana and I made a connection, drove to Indy, and visited with Bruce until late. Today he mostly wanted to sleep, so we headed to Ohio. I read the conclusion of “The Sparrow” aloud, and the two of us discussed its themes for quite a while. When we got to Sydne’s marriage celebration in Bellbrook, it was a surprise to see her in a wheelchair She’d almost lost a big toe in a freak picture-hanging accident (that’s our Sydne!).
At the reception I struck up a conversation with a local couple, and found it hard to believe that they were of the World War II generation, since they looked younger than that. After about an hour, Ruth got Barney to open up a bit and I found out that he was personally decorated by President Truman. He’d been wounded three times—once by a sniper—and had successfully stormed a Japanese pillbox with a flame-thrower before being captured and sent to a POW camp on the Malay Peninsula, where he’d been tortured for information. I could see that his fingers were permanently disabled. I felt honored to have met him and he just averted his eyes when I expressed my appreciation for his service and the sacrifices he made. His attitude was made clear when he reminded me that he’d lost a lot of buddies and then told me this story: When he met Truman he said, “Mr. President, I don’t think I deserve this.” According to Barney, Truman replied. “I don’t give a damn what you think. Your commander says you deserve this.”
Before we left, Ruth said to me, “He’s been through a lot.”
Bruce… Barney… What have I ever been through?
Earlier in the day I’d read in the newspaper about a staff sergeant from Indiana who’d been injured in Iraq during the invasion and was now on his second tour, having just single-handedly taken out a suicide car bomber before his convoy could be harmed. He was recovering from shrapnel wounds to his face and head.
My Lord… may this nation continue to deserve such men.
(Josh is due to arrive home today for his two-week leave.)
Various & Sundry, part twenty-two
Monday, August 1st, 2005— Month of July workout totals: Swim-7; Bike-5; Run-7; Lift-0; Yoga-0.
— The yew shrubs (taxus) in front of our porch had gotten totally out of control the past couple years. I figured I needed to either yank them out or do something radical with their appearance. On Saturday I sat and stared at one of them for half an hour, and then I attacked it with my old lopping shears. We’d seen pictures of how landscapers sculpt these bushes in the oriental style, then began to notice examples (Chicago, Cincinnati) in proximity to “Arts and Crafts” residential architecture. It was worth a try. I was pleased with the result, especially after I used shoe polish to camouflage the pruning scars. I have no idea how old these plants are, but they’ve reached nearly six feet in height and have to be dealt with.
— Bruce is doing better, now that he’s back in the hospital. It’s hard for me to see how they could discharge him last week without ensuring the continuity of treatment essential for his improvement. Much of the routine care he needed fell into disarray or was changed. If it hadn’t been for family…
— While Dana was having her Indianapolis adventure, I was trying my hand at topiary arts, making more stabs at getting back into triathlon condition, and spending some time at David’s range with my two carbines. The 1894s clobbered my shoulder until I learned to hold it correctly. David helped me take off the scope that Dadbo put on it, and that restored it to the desired simplicity. I’ve decided to learn to use this nice rifle with the naked eye. I don’t think I’d ever be comfortable with scope hunting, so I don’t intend to start that. If I can’t get a kill shot with open sights I intend to let the moment pass. The .30-caliber M1 was fun to sight in and proved to be far more accurate than I was expecting, probably due to the influence of some negative Rick Jason remarks published in a book about the “Combat!” series. Or maybe I just happened to get a particularly good example of the WWII-era design. I checked my notes and can’t believe I purchased that gun in 1993. That I just let it gather dust must have something to do with Dadbo dying less than a month later. (Interestingly, my father and Rick Jason were almost exactly the same age. I only just learned that he died in 2000 of a self-inflicted gunshot wound, but I don’t know any details.)
— Josh should be back in the States on leave by this weekend. There’s a tribute planned for the following Friday evening at Eagle Nest. That should be a memorable gathering and celebration. To top it off, it’s the World Premiere of “Pirate Revenge,” the family short we shot at Lake Cumberland a dozen years ago, but it was never completed as the last installment of the Clan Pirate Trilogy. Marty and Coleman were babies, Brendan was a squirt, and Dadbo made his final contribution to family creativity as “Frank, the old fisherman.” My, how time does fly…
Book Two
Sunday, July 31st, 2005Received word from Dana that Bruce has been admitted back into the hospital. Obviously, the situation with the rehab center was not working out. He just wasn’t getting the level of care to preserve his stability, and so the notion that perhaps he wasn’t ready to leave the hospital is affirmed. Dana drove him back to Methodist herself and ran interference, answering numerous questions that the institution could have made unnecessary, but the ER people didn’t have access to his extensive chart.
Happy, happy, happy
Friday, July 29th, 2005• Happy Birthday to my favorite stepdaughter…
• Happy Birthday to my favorite Russian composer…
• Happy Birthday to my favorite among favorites…
(I beg your pardon; the last one is totally not a joke.)
Chapter Two— at long last
Tuesday, July 26th, 2005Don’t you eyeball me
Monday, July 25th, 2005I got an email from the optometrist today, He wasn’t able to provide any answers, but recommended that I see an ophthalmologist for my “interesting” eye deviation (which doesn’t surprise me at all).
Do I want to buy a ticket for this ride? I’d better have a chat with Jerome first.
Memorable day in the history of my Clan
Sunday, July 24th, 2005The Clan Council made its historic decision to expedite the Living Trust on behalf of Mombo. After the meeting I finished most of the trimming in the cemetery and then picked a gallon of blackberries with Marty. Before leaving the valley, I took possession of Dadbo’s Marlin 1894s lever-action rifle—the one chambered in 44 Rem. Magnum. It’s the only firearm of my father’s that I ever had any interest in taking home with me. I’ll find a case for it and then test it out with David at his range.
Meanwhile, Lance Armstrong had a pretty good day, too.
And I think to myself
Saturday, July 23rd, 2005It’s my month to care for our family cemetery, so I spent most of the day doing my duty on the quiet hillside. I’ve come to notice that when I’m working there, I actually take the time to absorb the natural beauty of our secluded valley, especially on days like today, with the cerulean hue of an N.C. Wyeth sky, and the wooded knobs in their full summer contours. It was hot and humid, but I didn’t mind. I’d gotten any discomfort out of my system early in the day during a 10k run on Bluegrass Pike (after Buck showed off his new MINI Cooper topless—super-swank!).
When the way things oughta be ain’t
Thursday, July 21st, 2005Dana’s been putting in too much overtime trying to sidetrack any effort to discharge Bruce to an inappropriate facility while his medical situation remains tenuous. Thankfully, Jerome has taken time to advise Pam, plus valuable counsel is coming in from friends who know their way around the health care system.
Two examples—
“I know that you don’t need any more pressure at this time but that is the reality. Don’t hesitate to call the case manager and tell her/him that they need to make something happen. Also, call the chief of nephrology and any other medical team caring for Bruce, as well as the hospital administrator. If you’re not getting the satisfaction that you need then you keep going up the ladder. You’ll eventually rattle the right person.”
“…there is absolutely no excuse for the quality of care to be sacrificed. Problem is, physicians are pressured by administrators to rapidly get costly patients out of the hospital. You will never get an admission by anyone that this actually happens. If you aren’t getting the response you need I suggest making an appointment with the hospital administrator and in as nice as manner as possible serve notice that you are unwilling to tolerate poor quality in the name of a dollar. I can’t tell you the number of times I have seen patients drop through the cracks after an acute battle. Doctors loose interest or perhaps they just move on to the next big challenge. Feeding the ego can be such a dangerous thing….especially in medicine.”
Herding cats
Monday, July 18th, 2005We decided to spend the night, staying over long enough to monitor the situation with Bruce, to be sure he’s stable before we head in the direction of home. The surgical resident seems relatively free of tunnel vision and has agreed to attempt setting up a family conference with the various practitioners involved. We’ll see if that might happen any time soon. Since Bruce’s pancreas is still leaking, I’m mystified as to why that impressive pancreatic specialist who helped save his life in April is no longer a part of the team. Perhaps I shouldn’t be. The miserable economics of “safety-net medicine” or petty turfism would explain it.
Circling the wagons
Sunday, July 17th, 2005Something hasn’t felt right about the situation with Bruce, especially after having to avert his precipitous transfer to an inferior convalescent facility. When the harsh economics of modern health care kick in, sanity seems to drain away rapidly. After an enlightening (and fortuitous) conversation with Audrey, it’s my firm opinion that he needs hospital-based rehabilitation with aggressive physical therapy, while preserving high-level continuity of care. My viewpoint hardened last night when his potassium level spiked dangerously and the nephrologist ordered emergency dialysis, personally wheeling his bed out of the room. Dana has been persistent in her role as protector, but I see signs of a deep weariness. I must say that Bruce’s wife Pam has come through admirably as a forceful advocate of common sense over the past few days. Way to go! Let’s get some mileage out of that personality, Toots…
Saturday sojourn
Saturday, July 16th, 2005Headed north to hit the Seitz Family Reunion, and then west to Indy for a visit with Bruce.
I switched to a digital camera this year to take the portrait. It was tricky, but the group was surprisingly cooperative and full of good cheer. At least I had a real-time verification, which reduced the stress of whether I got a decent shot. Seth gave me a VHS tape of his editing work. I didn’t have time to talk to Brendan; wanted to discuss Urban Dead. James and I got a kick out of Mark’s hundred-foot row of zucchini. What was the poor devil thinking!?
(ps — Did anyone else get chiggers?)
Put the lime in the coconut, then you feel better
Friday, July 15th, 2005Thought a lot about Uncle Clarence today, so I sent him one of my cards. Knowing how much I’ll miss Aunt Alma, I can’t begin to appreciate his sorrow. They were married for almost 73 years!
Also spent some time on the Web trying to find out more about my eye condition. Nothing compares to medical science when it comes to creating barriers to basic understanding. Diplopia— Why not just say “double vision?” Asthenopia— Why not call it “eyestrain?” Nothing doing.
So I have to get used to decrypting phrases like “cyclovertical heterophoria” and “dissociated strabismus complex.”
HELP! I need Maria’s brain!
Dateline London
Thursday, July 14th, 2005Word comes from Brendan that his traveling mom—my sister Joan—saw Brian Dennehy perform on stage.
NO FAIR!
So long, my friend
Wednesday, July 13th, 2005Mack was buried in a family cemetery on his farm, as some day I will be at our farm (near the grave of my namesake). Mack was a generous man… no, more than that—magnanimous. The same can be said about my father. They also had in common a low-key personality that was somehow magnetic. They were both complex, multi-talented individuals with deep connections to the natural world. Whatever they chose to do, they did well—and they attempted many wide-ranging things. They also had a profound spiritual side to their character that was instructive by example, never overbearing. Until today, I hadn’t thought about how Mack and Dadbo were so much alike. Indispensable to their families, the void they leave can never be filled. It can only be honored. Mack was not a father figure to me, but perhaps a mentor, although I thought of him only as a friend, which, I believe, is all he would’ve wanted. And even though he defied the foe until the end—with his expansive optimism, quiet competitiveness, and good cheer—I think he knew that everyone in his world was watching how he countered death’s grasp, as we all must when our time comes, and continued to share his graceful spirit until called to run the unknown trail ahead of us.
A new concern
Tuesday, July 12th, 2005Dana and I made a Lexington run to do routine errands and get our eyes examined. The eye condition that I’ve had for some time was diagnosed as hyperphoria.
Jeanne, it’s time to cut me off again
Monday, July 11th, 2005Here we go; these painful losses seem to come in clusters.
First my Aunt Alma, then my good friend Mack, and now my pal Bob D, one of the outstanding Bobs in my life.
I don’t know, Johnny, I really don’t know
Saturday, July 9th, 2005Seth and I put in a rigorous session with Lady Casablanca and learned a few hard lessons in our first team effort to produce a final cut of “Pirate Revenge.” When we were no longer laughing at our funniest scenes, we knew it was time to call it a night.
Weird, wild stuff
Friday, July 8th, 2005Just for the heck of it, I googled for the word “Bruce.” Although he didn’t come up on the search, Bruce will get a kick out of the fact that Bruce Campbell topped Willis with the first listing, and that Bruce Lee was next, beating out Springsteen. Bruce Cockburn made page two. Lenny Bruce didn’t show up until page ten, and no Robert the Bruce until page 14. I didn’t see Jenner until 52 or Boxleitner until 61.
When I google for “Bruce” and “Uncle John,” we come up as the fourth item. When I add “Indianapolis,” we’re number one.
Even Uncle Bob, who has forgotten more about computer science than many programmers will ever learn, is amazed at Google’s penetration. When he googled for his home base, “Broadwing Farm,” it came up first, with the Dixon Design page that exhibits our work for the farm’s “Red Crow Hot Sauce” a few listings down.
I wonder how long it will take for this particular page to be catalogued within their system?
(ps — Bon Voyage to Uncle Bob, Aunt Carol, and Joan. Be sealed in angel armor…)
Various & Sundry, part twenty-one
Thursday, July 7th, 2005— If we need another grim reminder that the world is at war, this story makes it clear that we’re all potentially in harm’s way—especially when we leave the homeland—as Joan, Aunt Carol, and Uncle Bob are planning to do this weekend. Manolo, get out your Blessing Engine. Meanwhile, the rest of us will pray—hard.
— Speaking of Bobs, I’ve known a few in my life. A Bob is never wishy-washy, but invariably an exceptional guy (occasionally you’ll encounter one who is distinctly uncool), and always makes an impression. This Bob is one of my favorites, and so I’ll do my part to extend his 15 minutes of fame.
— At Aunt Alma’s funeral I talked to cousin Don (accomplished musician and former CEO of Rolodex), and, without any prompting from me, he declared Centre professor Vince DiMartino as the greatest living Jazz trumpet virtuoso. Hmm… At the Brass Band Festival, Vince gave the honor to his friend Allen Vizzutti. Anyway, here’s a montage I made from shots I took during the Festival, so you can see the world’s finest trumpet player in action, whichever one he is!
Josh—be safe and secure until you come home
Wednesday, July 6th, 2005The latest news is that my nephew has lost another fellow Guardsman. There is no doubt that the mission of the 623rd in Iraq is extremely dangerous. Nothing yet about whether Josh was assigned to the convoy that day.