Graduation Parade

My great-niece’s high school graduation parade announcement was on Face Book.

We’ve driven our Chevy in a few parades lately. We thought about how fun it would be to show up for that one.

But this parade would be in Texas, and attending was extremely unlikely. Driving the Chevy there was even less likely.

My wife checked on the rumored, low cost airline tickets – a false rumor. What if we drove the Yukon? I asked. I told her the map said it was a 27-hour drive. We were standing in the lower part of Tuesday – the parade would be Thursday. We would have roughly 48 hours to drive 1750 miles. That’s less than 37 MPH – we can beat that!

Adventure was calling. We made a last-minute decision, quickly packed the Yukon and left home at about 7:30 that evening. We drove non-stop (about 24 hours) to Phoenix where we got a room for the night.

I saw 113 degrees on our Yukon thermometer in New Mexico. Good thing we didn’t drive the Chevy, it has windows – not air conditioning.

We continued 7 more hours the next day, arriving in El Paso less than an hour before the parade was to begin. My nephew knew of our plans, but the graduate, Isabella, did not.

We were the last car in the parade.

Isabella cried when we surprised her. It was contagious.

We stayed five nights. I forgot how long it had been since we last saw my nephew and family. We did a lot of visiting, just sitting and talking – although we did break away to go and see the world’s largest Pistachio.

The best part about our marathon visiting was recognizing little johnny’s personality in the adult johnny’s body.

We ventured out for dinner (and a bank robbery?)

After returning home, I had an overdue colonoscopy and a follow-up upper endoscopy, it was kind of like a two-for-one deal. The resulting list of discoveries included Polyps (removed and sent for testing), ulcers (Ulcers?!), and internal hemorrhoids (what?).

This is my favorite Isabella video: her witch dance

Blown Away

I went to the hospital for my quarterly blood draw and testing. It was easier than ever to find a parking spot. The hospital appeared deserted except for the guard in a Hazmat suit that stopped me at the main entrance.

She interrogated me, took my temperature, and directed me to the new annex across the street. There I received the same greeting before my blood draw – with all of us wearing face masks.

I’ve had two Virtual Doctor Appointments since the Corona Virus threat became apparent. A Virtual doctor appointment is not much more than a video chat.

You do get extra credit if you tell them your current weight – and you really get bonus points if you can report your blood pressure. My blood test results were in, repeating my favorites: normal, stable, same as last time.

Our (grand) niece turned thirteen but couldn’t have that important birthday party while maintaining safe social distances. My wife suggested a birthday parade.

We drove the Chevy to Portland and joined six other decorated cars to form a short but heartfelt parade. We drove to and circled a cul-de-sac with the surprised birthday niece standing in the center. It was brilliant.

Passing over my home, I’m not sure what caught this bird’s eye, but for whatever reason, he circled and descended. He spotted the bird feeders hanging from the eve of our garage roof, and multiple bird houses affixed to the exterior of my back porch.

Nice neighborhood, he had to conclude. Free food, free housing, nice view, pleasant neighbors. I LIKE IT!

He probably sampled the feeders before a few wing beats carried him to closer inspect the available housing for vacancies. The bird houses were protected by the roof overhang, were varied in style and color, and were generously spaced; but the lower house with a metal roof piqued his interest.

He slipped through the opening and was inspecting the interior – nice approach, covered entry, clean, and roomy – especially with this cavernous hallway – where does it end?

I’LL TAKE IT! I’m sure he said to himself as he began celebrating with his happy dance. That had to be the noise I heard when passing the laundry room door, a loud, scratchy – flappy noise.

It sounded like something with claws was in the dryer, and then I realized there must be a bird in the dryer vent. Lint had built up and kept the vent flap-door from closing completely.

To firmly convince my new tenant that this arrangement was not going to work, I defied our governor’s temporary non-eviction order and in three….. two….. one…… I pushed the Eviction Button……. on the dryer.

That must have blown his mind.

Bye bye, birdie!

It had to blow him away – Literally!

That bird has a story to tell.

Social Distancing

As I sat at my computer late Tuesday, March 17, 2020, it felt like we were on the verge of something, maybe something big. Or, maybe something big like “Y2K.” We won’t know until we can look back a couple weeks from now.

The president declared a national emergency a few days ago over the Corona Virus, the novel coronavirus, COVID-19.

My home is not quarantined, as some are. We are not self-quarantined, as some are. We’re not under curfew, or sheltering in place voluntarily or involuntarily, as some are.

A story in the local newspaper showed the emergency tent erected at the local hospital to help manage the Tsunami of virus victims. I hope it remains vacant.

We are not hording toilet paper, as some are. I don’t think we are headed for financial ruin, as some may be with businesses and schools temporarily closing. People can’t work and won’t get paid. Some have no choice but to stay home with kids who are locked out of schools.

We are not Social Distancing. That’s the new term of the season, Social Distancing. It’s actually anti-social distancing – distancing people from people, but calling it anti could attach a negative connotation.

I had been planning to join two friends for a day trip to the Lemay Car Museum in Tacoma. With all the craziness going on, we decided to postpone and meet instead for lunch at Wendy’s.

When I got home from lunch, my wife told me our governor had just decreed a four week ban on all statewide events of more than 25 people, closing all restaurants and bars, allowing only take-out and delivery. Stores, grocery stores, and pharmacies are exempt from the ban.

So, with the atmosphere of a Sci-Fi Pandemic movie:

THE BOOMER DOOMER

(Thanks, Daro)

AVOID IT AT A THEATER, BUSINESS, SCHOOL, RESTAURANT, OR CROWD NEAR YOU

Maybe we are practicing Social Distancing.

Old Person?

It started a few years ago when I was near the front of a group of people about to open double doors and walk through. Someone reached for a handle and pulled. Instead of the expected elbows and stampede, the person holding the door stood in place looking at me.

What? Did I step in something? Am I about to? I looked around quickly and realized – this respectful younger person was holding the door open for an old person, me. My first time. I guess it’s my turn.

It’s a generational thing. A peer thing. My peers and I started out about the same time – give or take a few years. That’s why we’re peers! The timing of our individual departure from this earth will vary greatly, but between the starting and ending points, I’m among a lot of people with a lot in common, doing a lot of the same things, at about the same time in life.

At one point, my peers and I were happily learning to walk. At another, the bulk of us were learning to drive. Before long, most were getting married. The majority made babies. In a relative flash, my wife and I, and most of my peers were becoming grandparents. Many rode the wave of retirement. Sure, there were lots of exceptions, but that’s life. Are they really exceptions if they are part of the norm?

My body issues regular status reports warning of maximum wear limits. Parts of me are getting old and can’t deny it. Parts of me deny getting old, refusing to believe it.

I was talking with an old friend (older than me!) and he asked rhetorically, what’s happened to us? We used to talk about cool cars and hot women… Now it’s prostate issues and medication side effects.

What’s happened to us? I’ll bet I know! We’re still in this game of life playing the hand we’ve been dealt. I’ll see your biopsy, and raise you a Stem Cell Transplant! Read ’em and weep (rhetorically)! Read ’em? Where are my glasses?

It’s a generational thing, and here we are. It’s our turn to be the old folks. This is not an assignment for sissies. I try to remember it’s a kind of honor not everyone gets to experience.

I’ve been digitizing pictures for my aunt and found this one of me in her collection. I had never seen this photo of my original family.