The Drizzlies

There seems to be some kind of bug that has decided to try to make a liar out of me. First, my two sons, Maps and Pappy came down with a double-barrelled dose a few weeks ago. Then, a couple of weeks later my wife was attacked by the same unwelcomed intruder. The symptons were simple and unpleasant. That would be the complete discharge of contents of the digestive system from stem to stern. That's right. Paintin' the porcelain and blowin' beets in harmony. It's unbelievable that the human digestive tract can contain so much...well...CRAP. Of course that really dosen't bother me. As long as it exits through the proper orifice, it really isn't that bad. However, the unrefined stomach contents that are violently rejected and ejected, that's a whole different story and I'd like to brag for a minute. I haven't hurled in over thirty years. I simply refuse to. I'll do anything possible to force everything out of the south port. I'll sit on the throne for hours if that's what it takes. I'll stuff a sock in my mouth and hold my nose. I won't allow myself the agony of calling "ralph". I much prefer the back-door trots or the "drizzlies" as I like to call my watery feces. Well, this past Monday I started feeling "sick" at work. I should tell you that I don't get sick, thank God. I haven't called in sick for almost as long as I haven't puked. Anyway, I left work on time on Monday feeling quite nauseous. I just figured business as usual. I'll get home and drop the kids off at the pool and I'll be fine. Unfortunately, the bug had a more sinister plan. I couldn't get warm or comfortable and the pool was already crowded. Then it hit me. I felt that overwhelming urge to surrender Domino's, Taco Cabana, and Whataburger via the enamel highway. Could this really be happening? My thirty year record down the toilet, so to speak? Say it ain't so. "No chunks! No chunks!", I prayed as I walked downstairs away from the toilet I was just standing next to. I'll be damned if I'm gonna lose this battle. So, after many explosive visits to the library, I held on to my cherished record. I won the battle. The bug met his match. I thought I was gonna die there for awhile, but my backside became my best ally. Is that where the term "a$$hole buddies" comes from? Who cares. Al I know is that I was only a couple of hours late to work on Tuesday and my perfect attendance record was preserved. Long live the drizzlies! Long live the drizzlies!

Sorry Folks

I have just been informed by my #1 follower that my "comments" setting was turned off. Doh!!
I have corrected the problem so that my legions of followers can now proclaim the sheer brilliance of my posts. This was purely accidental and I will try not to let it happen again as I enjoy all of the comments that my followers are so eager to send my way. Elvis is back in the building.

Mom

Where do I start? Currently, my mom spends most of her time lying in her bed with the TV on. She can't really see too well so she listens more than she watches. Her favorite shows are Wheel of Fortune and Everybody Loves Raymond. She also spends a lot of her time praying for others, including family and friends who have passed away. She thinks about food constantly. Unfortunately, she can't or won't eat more than a couple of bites of anything. We hired a live-in caregiver to make sure she is medicated, fed, cleaned, and anything else she needs or wants. Medicare provides her weekly visits from nurses and therapists.Through all of this she has told me that she would just like to go to sleep and not wake up. Well, shes fixing to turn 84, so that's not such a disturbing wish. Like her, I believe in Heaven and all of Christ's promises. So in my mind, dying would mean that she could be re-united with her husband, her parents, her sister, and all of her deceased friends. That sounds pretty cool to me, but it's up to God to make that call. Shoot, she may be around for many more years. I just hope she is in better health than she is now if she sticks around. She has myasthenia gravis which is treatable but it will follow her to her grave. Whether she passes sooner or later, she will always be remembered for her love of her family. She was generous to a fault, and she always made time for her grandkids. The Galleria was her home base of sorts and she loved to take the kids ice skating. She also treated them to trips to New York and Europe. If you could put up with her constant complaints about quality and service, you could enjoy her generosity for the most part. However, she had a penchant for embarrassing whoever she was with. She sometimes spoke her mind without any regards for discretion. Store employees would be forced to give in to her demands just to get her on her way. Man, she could wear people out. However, it was a small price to pay to enjoy her attention. She was always there to help even when her help wasn't always welcomed. All she ever wanted was to make sure her family was always taken care of.

So now it's time for her to be cared for. It's time for her to be loved and remembered. It's time to acknowledge her love, generosity, and caring for others. If you know her, call her or better yet, pay her a visit. If you have a similar situation in your family, remember to make the time to show your loved ones you still care. Let them know that they can count on your love and support. I know it can be sometimes unpleasant, but it's worth every minute you can spare. I love my mom and I will make every effort to make the rest of her life as rewarding as she has made mine. I could bore you with more details, but I'm sure that's not necessary. Just be sure to stay close to your mother. Make Mother's Day special this year, even if it's just a simple "I love you, mom."

"Life is too short for the living and life is too long for the dying."

Arthritis! Really? Really?

Who would have thought that this middle-aged, plus-size hunk of a man would develop arthritis at the 54 year mark? Hello, fat-ass. Can you say wake-up call? Haven't your friends and loved ones been politely warning you that looking like a cheeseburger with clothes on, is the pathway to potential health risks? Hell, what do they know anyway. I'm fine, I'm fine. No need to worry. Big is beautiful. There's more of me to love. I'm too short for my weight. Well, tell that to my left knee as I'm limping around like House without his Vicadin. My son-in-law Adam, actually had my symptons diagnosed a couple of weeks ago. I thought I had a more impressive, athletic type of injury, like a torn ACL. I thought for sure I would require surgery which in turn would entail rehab at home. I could lounge in my La-Z-Boy while my wife of 33 years would mix me a drink when I rattled the ice in my glass. Okay, that's not gonna happen, but it was worth some dream time. Anyway, I now take a daily anti-inflammatory and I've been told I need therapy, physical that is. So I limp into the therapist's office and find out that for a mere 180 bucks, I can get an hour of their finest rehab proficiency. Are you kiddin' me? 180 bucks! Insurance aside (I have not met my deductable), I'm not paying anybody any amount of money to put me on a treadmill. I'll just walk it off at home, thank you kindly. My meds only cost me 20 bucks and they're working just fine.A few daily trips to the fridge and the bar will be more than enough exercise. I can even go to Spec's superstore and mosey down every delicious isle until my knee says I've had enough. Of course if I shop and spend, then the therapist might have actually saved me a couple of bucks in the long run.Oh well, who's counting. It's my damn knee and I'll deal with it how I see fit. Let this be a lesson to all of my fellow couch potatoes. If you don't take more time away from food, drink, and TV, you might end up rehabbing at Spec's or Sam's Club. Hey, maybe arthritis ain't so bad after all. Y'all have a great Easter weekend. Stay close to God, family, and friends. Cheers!

Ostentatious?

Is it okay to want to own a vehicle that costs upwards of a half a million dollars? Not only is it okay, it can also help you to get your priorities straight. I've had the Rolls-Royce bug since I saw my first one over forty years ago. Of course I was just a kid and had no idea Iwas starting to develop enormously expensive tastes. I'm sure I'm not the only person who can walk into any store and be drawn to the most expensive merchandise. It's a gift and a curse at the same time depending on your station in life. It's a gift because it shows your keen eye for extraordinary quality. I wanted a nice watch when I was in grade school. My mom took me to Sweeney's Jewelers and I started to look around. "Sir, could you show me THAT one?" He looked up at my Mom with an eager smile while she was shaking her head NO! "Why not, mom?', I asked. "Is that the only watch you like?" she asked. "Well, it's the best looking", I answered. Needless to say we left the store with a watch that was a small fraction of the cost of the Rolex President's Datejust that I so wanted. As I've gotten older, I've decided that a gold Piaget would suffice if I have money leftover after my Rolls is tucked away in my garage (said with a British accent). These types of experiences continue to this day. This is where the curse shows it's head. I could save a fortune if Brooks Brothers, Ralph Lauren, and Cole-Haan would allow me to shop at Dillard's. It's just not possible. If I can't have the most expensive, I guess I'll just wait. And that's how you set your priorities. If you want it, but can't afford it, spend less. Or, just wait. You''ll become more aware of the difference between need and want. I know in my heart that I'm gonna have that Rolls someday, I just hope that I'm still able to drive when that time comes. The fact that I already have more than I deserve leads me to believe that hope may be the icing on my cake. I have a great family and great friends. I have a job. I play poker. I eat and drink what I enjoy. Most importantly, I have faith in Jesus. Sometimes I think He is the one who keeps those "carrots" dangling in front of me so I'll be more aware of my blessings. When I get my Rolls, would you like to go for a ride? I think pretentious sounds better than ostentatious, don't you?

Mr. President

Well I was gonna write a blog about Obama, but if you can't say anything nice....

One of a kind

Anybody out there recognize this wonderful man? He was quite a character. He was a singer-songwriter from the progressive country era. That's back in the seventies for all of you youngsters out there. His name was Rusty Wier and he had a style and talent that was largely missed by many people outside of Texas. His music helped lift Austin into the stratosphere of Texas music. He was joined by the likes of Jerry Jeff Walker, B.W. Stevenson, Tommy Alverson, Gary P. Nunn, Guy Clark and many other Texas troubadors. I started listening to his music back when I was in high school and I've never stopped. I last saw him perform here in Houston at The Armadillo Palace. Whenever he came to town, my kids and my friends would sit directly in front of the stage where we would enjoy his music, his stories, his jokes, and his friendly smile. He liked to call me "chief" because I would always sit with my arms crossed. I was one of many of his fans he could make gestures to or give a friendly wink to during his shows. After the show, we would acknowledge each other with a gracious hug. I was thankful for his performances and he was thankful for my support. We were friends. Not the hang out together kind, but friends through his music.

Unfortunately, Rusty was fighting a losing battle against cancer. He lost that battle on October 9, 2009. I'm gonna miss my friend. I'm gonna miss his performances and his big ol' Rusty grin. I wish he had a bigger fan base, because so many people will never know what a talent he was. Thank you, Lord. Thanks for sharing him. Thank you, Rusty. Thanks for sharing yourself with your loving fans. Rest in Peace, sir.

While we're sharing, I'd like to share a sample of Rusty's songwriting. The song is called Silly Rhymes. If you can find a recording, get it.

Take a look at the silly book,
Read between the lines
And find out it’s not even funny.

Take a train in the middle of the rain,
Step inside, it’s not the same,
Now, is it honey?

Try to fly in the clear blue sky
Get real high
But you’ll be back tomorrow.

Try to say in a funny way
It’s been a bad day
And that’s why you’re in sorrow.

Pick up your loose ends, take ‘em to your friends,
They’ll put ‘em back together again
If you let ‘em.

They’re all you got, believe it or not
They’re the only ones that mean a lot,
Don’t forget’em.

You drink your wine, you say it’s fine
And that’s the only line
You can remember.

Your head caves in, you can’t see sin,
You say you’ll never do it again
But you don’t remember.

The flowers grow the seeds to sow
But no one really knows
Where to throw’em.

Aw, they look real nice, they’re there to entice
But is it worth the price
We pay to grow ‘em.

Say the words you’ve always heard
Don’t they sound absurd
When you stop to listen?

Like shades of night they give up the fight
And in the mornin’ light
They start to glisten.

You wanna know the way to go and who to show.
You wanna know the way, but who’s to say.