Meanwhile...

Sickness has been traveling through the home.

Sore throats, sneezes and the ever present cough.

I'd like to say that I am immune to all this because it

would make my day to day business that much easier

to tackle, but I'd be lying if I said this.

Instead we must power through with the sore throats

and savor the moments when we can sleep

for a few uninterrupted hours.

Today was a bit different though, my weekend was 

bookended by two days off in which I worked harder

than I do at my day job. 

I mean to tell you I was blazing through my checklists,

knocking chores out left and right.

And it feels so good to be doing the things like this.

To be adding the order back into the mix.

It helps you see straight.

It soothes the soul.

For real.

And Then This Happened.

Usually people know to talk to me.

Crazy, unhinged people know this. 

They want to sell me some nail paint, 

or they want to bemoan the state of the world, 

sometimes they want to do me physical harm. 

It's probably my fault for acknowledging their existence.

I just can't help it though,

I have to look up,

I make eye contact,

I seal my fate. 

So what happened was Burger and I get on the train for a special trip to the city.

The doors open. 

Wow! A practically empty train greets us... how nice!

But then I sense him and next I hear him. 

"Fuck you with those fancy glasses"

Even though I'm sure he's talking to me, 

I tell myself he can't  be talking to me 

because my glasses are NOT fancy.

They aren't!

So rather than just turn around and wait for another train 

we sit down a ways away from the man 

and I just tell myself that there are some other fancy glasses angering the man.

There must be, because mine are certainly not fancy.

Burger and I watch out the windows while I try to ignore the persistently louder agitated vibes. 

And then we pass the tipping point. 

I say "we" because at this point wether I like it or not, this man is a part of our universe and will be until we can escape the train. 

This is when Burger starts to ask me what this guys problem is. 

He's sick I tell him.

He's angry I tell him.

...I don't know what is wrong with him but he's angry and sick. 

And then in a blur the man is crossing the train towards us. 

He's mad. 

He's yelling about surveillance, and CIA things.

He's yelling at me for teaching my son to hate black people. 

I turn Burger around, away from the man and I tell him not to listen.

Don't listen to the man. 

Just get ready I tell him. 

Then Burger turns around and looks at the man.

Which is something else I told him not to do, on account of how it engages them. 

And then the man reaches out, as if to separate Burger from the ensuing beat down he is ready to hand to me. 

He says 

Your daddy is a bad man. 

Your daddy's teaching you to hate black people. 

Then he says to me, I don't give a fuck, I'm not gonna hurt your boy but I'll kick YOUR fucking ass. 

I'm holding Burger's hand and telling him not to listen, just get ready to get off the train. 

You're daddy's a bad dad!

That does it. 

Burger swings around out of my grip and yells 

"MY DAD IS THE BEST DAD IN THE WORLD!"

He doesn't say this with any fear, he states it like the most absolute truth he knows. 

a.) I am six years old. 

b.) Legos are fucking awesome. 

c.) My Dad is the best Dad. 

And the man goes quiet. 

The train, half full of bystanders unwilling to intervene is quiet. 

Then the man looks at me and I look at him like what can I say!? The Boy has got my back. 

I'd like to say that this broke the tension, or that the train erupts with cheers and whistles, or that in this moment of clarity the man's brain suddenly rights itself and he apologizes and we all go about our day, happy as clams. 

But no. 

Instead, in the shock of the moment the train doors open 

and I say let's go! 

And we eacape, unharmed but a bit rattled. 

Now we are in a different train car, and we are sitting down. 

Deep breaths. 

Burger says he's sorry for talking to that man. 

It's okay I say. 

Then we are quiet. 

Then I say "You really told that guy what's what, you saved the day."

A smile starts to spread across his face and then he giggles 

"Yeah! I yelled at him and protected you!"

I can only stare at him, his beautiful face, 

his brave spirit, 

his bold voice that can silence a crazy world for a few precious seconds...

Then the train doors open

 and we walk out and up the stairs, 

holding hands, 

ready for the shit. 

Wookit.

The Fam is kind of sick.
We all is, kinda.
Not so much me, but a little bit.
I think I am just sick with worry.

There in spirit.

Me and this nerd been together so long, I forgot what it was like to be the dumbass I was before I met her!
May we all say a silent prayer, or light a candle... silently, send positive energy and good thoughts, anything you can spare to the efforts underway to cap off the catastrophic oil explosion in the gulf.
I know it is something like, 18 days too late, but you know how the saying goes
"You can't build a 4 story, 100 ton cement and steel dome in under 15 days."
Whoever came up with that saying, I bet they are wishing they put that on a bumper sticker or a T shirt or something.

I hope you are well, I been sick as hell, but I am getting better.
So please, send your prayers to the gushing oil well a mile beneath the surface of the ocean and not to the gushing well of mucus and tears pouring forth from my face.

good night!
lovmeathtew

You guys, I love you.

I was looking through all the photos I have posted on the blog.
Man, it is like a trip down a lane of memories.
A trip that makes me want to cry and laugh at the same time.

I fed the boyzo, he ate a bunch of stuff.
Like his Mother, you have to keep an eye on him or else he will just eat whatever is within
his ever growing reach.
So I don't know what he ate while I was not looking, but I can only hope it comes out the other end.
Some day.

You guys, I don't know why it is that getting sick is such a stressful thing for me.
When I can feel it coming on, and I don't know to try and fight it or just let it wash over me.
I immediately think of the days I might miss of work.
That is the main stress point.

But what can you do?
Rest? Pray? "Medicine"?
I am at a loss.

I just try to keep on keeping on.
Such is life.

I am going to go on a date tomorrow.
I can not wait.
I can only hope.

lovamwhetr

I hung that shit perfect.

Did I tell you that I worked yesterday?
On Saturday?
I had to go to Connecticut for an install job.

I was responsible for hanging a large framed photo, 40 something inches by 90 something inches.
It was heavy and cumbersome.
And after measuring twice, Del and I hung that bitch perfectly!
BLAOW!!!

Then we ate some chicken sandwiches that were provided for us.
Then we left.

I said this before, but things like a perfect install job MAKE my job.
The sense of accomplishment I feel during those moments make my job so enjoyable.

Anyways, all day yesterday, I had a bit of a postnasal drip, and then this morning I woke up with it even worse.
So I made some breakfast, and then walked Truen to the bus.
Then I went and bought a bunch of Kleenex (the lotion kind was on sale!) and then I sweated my way home.
Even in the crisp morning air, I was sweating.

Truen thinks I am working too much, but I disagree.
True, I do work a lot, but I think it is more about the pending birth.
I am trying to get a lot done before the baby arrives (in the mail) and I am maybe working too hard... at life!

Well I wanted to share something with you, the casual blog reader, that I am proud of.
It is a solution I came up with to a problem that was robbing me of sleep.

There is a silver heating pipe right by our bed, and it makes this bumping noise on and off through the night.
I am a light sleeper, and this bump noise wakes me up immediately, and as long as it is bumping, I am awake.
So originally I stuffed a rolled up piece of moving strap between the wall and the pipe, and it worked.
It only worked for an hour or two, and eventually it would loosen and fall out of it's nook, and then the bumping would make up for lost time by bumping louder, like it was gloating.

So then I tied the strap around the pipe, and would simply yank on the strap every time the bumping would start.
This was also successful but it required me to really yank on the strap, and that wold wake me up as much as the bumping would. So I had to come up with something better, something to help in the long term.

What I came up with is a combination of elements that came into my life separately, but were meant to combine forces to become the useful anti bumping system that I created and implemented, saving me from having to suffer through any more "bumpy" nights.

I took a hammer, and a big chink of wood that I brought home off the street and what I did was I put the claw end of the hammer between the pipe and the wall, then I applied force against the handle of the hammer. This pulls the pipe away from the wall, and creates pressure on the pipe, tightening it in it's fittings which is where I think the bumping was coming from in the first place. THEN I simply put the chunk of wood against the handle of the hammer to keep the hammer in place, the pipe tight, and me sleeping!

It is a win win situation, and you better believe I already filed for the needed patents and copyrights.

Well, today is either a very big day for New York Giants, and everyone else that is sick of the Patriots and Tom Brady's robot like eyes, or it is just another boring Super Bowl.

We'll see.
lovematehw