Wow, work can be interesting somedays. All the news coverage about the tigers at the Zoo was my evil doing. I'm getting a kick out of the news blogs, most of which are filled with the socratic wisdom of an AA intervention.

On the Ch 2 blog, I got tagged. "Were they named that because the Zoo marketing manager is a former Time Warner Employee?" That's exactly why, Katrina! Two post down, a guy wrote in that if he could get something for it, he'd name his pending twins "La" and "Nova." Had to laugh. People bitch when Ralph Wilson doesn't name his stadium when he needs money. We go out find some and that has a few miffed. The contradiction is pretty hilarious. I thought it was fun to orchestrate a press fiasco and manage to avoid most of the cameras.

Sunrise at the Zoo can be romantic notion, but it was too damn cold to appreciate the view. Cubs came out and did their thing and just as quickly as it began, the circus was over. I won't kid you, it was a cool power trip watching them all jockey for space at my behest.

But, back down to earth, I'm still waiting for parts for my car. I guess they have everything fixed except the spring and with Mitsubishis, you sometimes wait. I can't help but wonder if that is a sign to see what else might be out there.

Come to the convention center tomorrow night. It's a cool fundraiser, taste of Buffalo style, should be fun and inside.

Perhaps it's a post for another time, but managed to get through the service for my dad-in-law in one piece. The ceremony was nice and the small church off Michigan Ave was filled to overflowing. That church has a tradition of the receiving line as people enter. So, I stood up with the ex and had her back for the masses. For everyperson you want to see and greet and hug and whatnot, there are 15 that make you want to bath in purell. Been patted and arm grabbed with in an inch of my lilywhite self. Wound up not speaking, but my uncle-in-law cribbed a few choice paragraphs so I guess that makes me a eulogy ghost writer

Plenty of laughs and tears at the service and at the reception at the UU church over on Elmwood. Pretty sure I got hit on twice too. Once was a little skeery, but perhaps there is some "there" to the other.

Sometimes you never know......

Sometimes it really is a hard knock life.

My car decided it needed to act up. I was taking day off and leaning toward taking yesterday when I was driving around for work on Wednesday morning. I made my rounds from the science museum to the Bisons offices to Buffalo Spree and was almost back to the Zoo when my brake pedal went all the way to the floor while on Hertel. I stopped, but could only wonder what now?

With an eye toward dealing with it after the afternoon of work, I came out at 5:30 and sure enough got the same thing. The Master Cylinder was dry as a bone inside and out, so I knew it wasn't guilty. To find out a little more, I emergency braked my way over to Pep Boys. NEVER, EVER, do that Peeps. It's a bad idea. I tell em it's a brake issue. They could never identify the problem. Their solution was to replace everything. On a fourteen year old car? At those prices? HELL to the No.

Went back down there, to find they left my car in pieces, despite me telling them no. Had triple AAA tow it over to my real mechanic. He initially wasn't sure he could save it. That really wasn't what I needed to hear. Initially, he believes a loose strut snapped the brake cable. Trouble was, the strut due to age or some fuckstick at Pep Boys literally dropped off the car. Realistically, I know it's age, but when people keep pokin at the same spot, eventually they are all going to leave a bruise.

I think we'll be fine, except for my miniscule tax refund and birthday funds are going to buy me the ability to stop. Not exactly the present I had in my sites, ya know. Might be time to start shopping a little for a suitable replacement for a younger vehicle.

Can you see me in an Intrepid?

Seeyas for Pizza tomorrow.

Here you go, the last in my unintentional series of the immediacy of death. Thanks for the notes of encouragement. It means a lot as I have to make my debut as one of the eulogizers on Thursday. A white, almost pink, dude from the suburbs trying to wax eloquent on the steps of one of the city’s eldest black churches. I got a feeling that was one of Pop’s final shots at messing with me a little. I like to think the image has him chuckling wherever he may be.

Anyhoo, if it seems like I’ve harped a little too much on mortality laden for you casual journal readers well, bugger off, it’s my journal. I started to think about what to say whilst we were doing what you do in the waking hours of such events. While my ex and her brother tended to the funeral director, I tried to make myself useful by answering the door, mixing drinks and whatnot. It felt a little strange to be a block away at the height of events Saturday night, but I’m not sure what being right there would have accomplished. Sitting with the kids seemed like the next best thing so their mom could say goodbye and have some time to grieve without worrying about the rest of us. The day after, you sit, you eat, you cry, you laugh, repeat.

I had to laugh a little as my ex’s current girlfriend and her former were both there, setting up higher comedy or drama. My daughter sidled up me at one point and said “You think they’re going to go at it?” Such are the vicissitudes of lesbian turf battles. Thankfully, said current one has some sense.

Given that a large family and a large populace sometimes rarely see one another, you can never be too certain as to who everybody is. I have the perfectly sincere “Hey!!” down pretty good. Pretty sure I was hugged by three people yesterday who I have absolutely no idea who the hell they were. I did reach for my wallet to be on the safe side.

You never know what talents can get called upon. After getting the kids and their Mom back home, I went back to my place to do photoshop work for an obituary portrait. Never been in that position before. I had to walk through some watermarks to make a passable picture, and I think it worked out fairly well, given the original document.

So, this is what I’m thinking for behind the pulpit

“I can’t say if today is a day of remembrance, commemoration, sadness or celebration. Pop would want it to be whatever you need it to be. He got much of his strength through moments in this very building, but he never wallowed in it. I can’t tell you anything you don’t already know about him. What I do know is that he wanted the best that life had to offer for everybody in the room. If there was a chance to reach higher, it is a chance that he deemed worth taking. It may even feel a little ridiculous to start with, but the long term payoff would always merited us trying. He never stopped looking for the opportunities for all of us. We may have lost a booster, a cheerleader, a champion, but savor the knowledge that we had him on our side. He wants us all to shine, daring us to be great. I think he’d spot us today, but put tomorrow on notice because we’re coming.”

Alright, so I ain't Father Flannigan, but it's genuine and to the point.

He passed away about 20 minutes ago

Thanks for the good wishes all, but I wish I was off to a better start. Roswell is out of options for Dad-in-law. It's pretty much killed my celebratory urges as his only meaningful phone call is going to Hospice. When you can't get sturdy enough to even think about chemo, you know you got troubles. My ex says the drill is to keep him comfy

The Zoo folk whooped me up with lunch and cake, but the cake was tough to grin through as I got this little medical bon mot to deal with.

So, I effectively stopping giving a shit about birthday proceedings as a result. Doesn't seem to matter when you have that likely possibility floating on the horizon. I started the day thinking my biggest issue is that thanks to debt, car insurance, repairs and rent, my paycheck was done on arrival.

Funny how a prognosis can color your whole day. I'm working but I really don't feel like it. Supposed to celebrate with the kids and my folks, but my heart just isn't in it anymore.

I found this beautiful winter poem and thought it might be a comfort to you. It was to me, and it's very well written.


"WINTER"

a poem by Abigail Elizabeth McIntyre...






"F U C K , It's Cold !!!!"

The End

Eddie Izzard just rocks. This is too fucking funny

The drama never friggen ends. I began Wednesday dealing with a failing starter on my car. A brief spark show later, my oft-mentioned little buggy has a new starter and I'm shopping at Aldi's for the next two weeks. If life could have been quiet there, I would have been fine with it. You never like getting stuck, but you could do a lot worse than the ring road in Delaware Park.

Never thought I'd pass for the picture of health, but I'm starting to wonder. I already wrote about my Father-in-law's cancer battle. Poor dude can't get a break. He had a reaction to I think anesthetic so he was getting rushed over to Buff General, who made sure there were no other obstructions or obstacles to overcome. An MRI later today should confirm that. They brought him down the tunnel to Roswell thursday night. The Ex hung out there whilst I pinch-hitted with the kids. Thursday night stretched magically into Friday morning in that regard.

While all this was going on, my mom was in the emergency room at Suburban. She has been undergoing a treatment regimen for what consensus believes is vascular arteritis, featuring an unhealthy amount of Prednizone. Apparently, it can have some graphic side effects. One of which was a nose bleed. Not one of the "ooh, I bumped my nose" types of bleeds. It was more of the "Who died here" kind. To get it to stop, staff there used a liquid form of cocaine.

Now I have officially seen and heard everything. After a childhood of hearing my mom say things like "tilt your head" and "hold that washcloth still," I can now respond with "Mom, did you do your coke."

Meanwhile, back in Elmwood Village, we had "the talk" with the kids about their grandfather being unlikely to recover. That went about as well as can be expected considering we were making it up as we go.

I had my first day at the Zoo of being devoid of caring, just waited till 5. I swear this being a grownup doesn't look anything like it does in the brochure.

If I wasn't so bill laden this week, I would so be having Guitar Hero plugged into the PS2.

Weekend, anybody?

Got to love the Onion



Funny because it could be true if it wasn't for those tricky amendments

I just completed spending a god awful amount of money for billboards for the zoo beginning in June. What follows seemed appropriate.