Star Date 03092016
If Charlie had a theme song…I think it might be this:
“The Way We Were” Mem’ries, Light the corners of my mind Misty water-colored memories Of the way we were Scattered pictures, Of the smiles we left behind Smiles we gave to one another For the way we were Can it be that it was all so simple then? Or has time re-written every line? If we had the chance to do it all again Tell me, would we? Could we? Mem’ries, may be beautiful and yet What’s too painful to remember We simply choose to forget So it’s the laughter We will remember Whenever we remember… The way we were… The way we were…
The Way We Were
I wake up with a new (ish) song, in my head…every day. This morning it was the above. I believe Charlie picked this one special, as today is and will be full of mammaries…er…memories. Down Charlie…bad Charlie. With Wheezy still here, we are walking…actually driving down memory lane. In this case, memory lane consists of where we grew up, paper route, things like that. Irrelevant stuff that ties Wes and I forever, together. Joey and Sam don’t understand us but entertain us anyway. We are due to start our day with breakfast. Not uncommon for most, but the uncommon part here is that we are going to a place we used to skip Sunday School for, with the man, the myth, the legend…Uncle Leonard. Alas, Leonard will not actually be with us…Tom will. Leonard is still in a box in my basement. He has traveled and lived everywhere I have. Wes, Mark, and I were supposed to have scattered him over the ocean, after he died…okay…died and was cremated. Instead, there has never been an opportune time for the three of us to get together to perform said scattering. Irony, or just poor planning and follow through, I will need to find a reliable person to task with taking both Leonard and me to an appropriate place…likely a public restroom toilet, as they have super, power flushers…and disposing of us together. Assuming the worst outcome. Yes, that is Charlie’s current feeling. Between a Barbra Streisand song, seeing family, friends, et al, Charlie is running amok in my gourd. I suppose this current line of thinking is also tied to having had the conversation with Sammers.
Sidebar. There is nothing so gut-wrenching as being the cause of disappointment and sadness to your child or spouse. In this moment, I feel like I am supplying my family and friends the ultimate and ‘forever’ disappointment. I am lesrning the empathy gene as this is something that has eluded me o’er my years…something the Spock side of me does not fully understand, nor has ever gravitated toward.
Game on. So, we will see the infamous sites of the frolicking of our yutes. We will take another car ride, back toward mid-state, to see Casey, Michael, and my baby, Logan. There will be a meal shared betwixt the six of us. Then, Wes and Joey will depart to head back where they belong. I am trying not to be sad for that moment, as I am currently sad in this. The ‘what ifs’ are at a full-tilt-boogie (not to be confused with toilet guac boogies) in my crowded brain box. I do not know why I am in this mentally, emotionally fu**ed up place, this morning. I just know that I am. I further (and regretfully) understand the importance of being in this darkness and allowing my stupid and sentimental to fight this fight without my logical side playing anything but spectator.
Many tears fell during the dialogue between T2 and me. The conversation went as you might expect:
Out of the blue…Sam asks, “how’s the headache been?”
Me – So…we need to have a conversation
T2 – okay…about what?
Me – the tumour in my head.
Discussion and picture followed, as did Sam’s tears. In an effort to take it up a notch, and in attempting to show some manners and fairness to Charlie, I did let Sam know Charlie is said tumour’s name. It went a little something like this…maestro…can I get a ‘C’?…make it a bouncy ‘C’…yeah…dig it (SNL reference to Martin Short playing Irving Cohen):
Me – So…my tumour has a name.
T2 – (slightly smiles through tears) of course it does.
Am I so predictable? I don’t think so. Unless the prediction is?
Clubber Lang – Rocky III
See? Charlie knows this movie all too well. In fact, I think he quotes this to himself…thus, me, all day and all night.
Charlie v. ATOI – late edition…late as in from yesterday. Travel back in to the recesses of my brain…the part where Charlie has not yet taken over. Recall with me, the not so pleasant town of Barstow. I am in the elevator of my Hampton Inn and Suites…well off the Route 66 choice that Wheezy and Joey stayed at. Where, at breakfast yesterday, Wes explained that after getting situated the night before, Joey repeatedly checked the door locks. Wes added that they both questioned whether or not they were hearing gunshots in the not so far distance. Whereas my stay…albeit encumbered by the A/C not having a steady ‘on’ fan cycle, was far more pleasant. HGTV on in the background. Charlie enjoying a wee bit of firewater. So we are clear here, the pain med was applied night before, not morning of the elevator incident. Back to the elevator. I was on the 3th floor and the elevator stops on the 2th. An older chap enters….not me…the elevator. He is in leathers. and a Dudley Perkins tee. The following conversation ensues:
Me – So, I can see that you ride, but have you actually been to Dudley’s store, or did someone give the shirt to you?
Chap – I met some buddies to ride the Pacific Coast, and we went to Dudley’s store while riding the coast. It was a neat ride. (Presumably I believe him to be speaking of the motorcycle and not one of his buddies…although the chap does appear to be a little light in the boots…not that there’s anything wrong with that)
Pre-sidebar. Take note…I would be remiss if I did not point out that friends are friends, pals are pals…buddies sleep together. I know not the origin of this little diddy, but I am a firm believer in this truth. …just sayin.
Sidebar – Two noteworthy items should be mentioned here. A, this chap is about 5’6″ and looks identical to:
Chap…from elevator
Two, Dudley Perkins Harley Davidson, is one of, if not the oldest Harley dealer in the world.
Dudley…or the chap in the elevator in his younger years
C, the dealership …for those who like motorcycles, has a full Harley museum attached, with some awesome bikes.
Four, and almost as important as the rest of this useless information, they have a wide selection of the correct tee shirts. What is “correct” as it pertains to a tee shirt? Glad you asked. The ideal situation is a 50 Coton (old spelling), 25 rayon, and 25 poly. The second ideal would be 60 poly with 40 coton. The least ideal, but still better than 100 coton, is the 50/50 blend. Now…a few of you have seen this parlour (also old spelling) trick. I …rather Charlie, can see what a shirt is made out of without having to feel it. Once you feel the ideal, the rest …well..they pretty much suck ass.
E, the chap in the elevator is clearly a neanderthal, as he purchased a 100 coton tee.
And……action:
Me – Did you ride just along the coast?
Chap – Mostly. We went down to Hearst Castle, Monterey.
Me – (nodding approvingly) Very cool. Did you guys do 17 mile highway?
Chap – No…where is that?
Me – (looking disgusted and wanting to pick the gnome up and shake all the loose change out of his husky boy jean pockets) Right down by Monterey and Carmel…you would have ridden (not driven) right past or next to it.
Chap – Are you from that area?
Me – (walking out of elevator with chap and toward doors of fine sleeping establishment) Sort of. San Jose, CA.
Chap – That’s a nice area.
Me – I guess…if you’re in to that sort of thing
Chap – (confused look) right. You ride?
Me – not from here. My bike is back home in PA
Chap – Wow…that’s a ways. What brings you out here?
Me – (wishing desperately that I had an indelible marker to write the word ‘sucker’ on his forehead) Sort of a farewell road trip with my brother and nephew.
Chap – (chuckles…but is clearly uncertain as to why) farewell tour. You a musician?
Me – (chuckling with a purpose) No sir. (Here comes the BOOM) I was just diagnosed with a brain tumour and wanted to see family.
Chap – Jesus Christ
Me – (quietly …so as not to frighten the little fellow further) Yes, my son
Chap – That is some fu**ed up sh**
Me – Nah…it’ll all work out. (the true A**hole in me wants to ask him if he’s interested in buying my bike…just because)
Chap – Brother, I am sorry. I hope everything turns out.
Me – It will. Have a great ride…stay safe.
Charlie 4. ATOI 1
Fast forward. Tom U joined us today at the breakfast spot. Tom, as in Tom from yesterday’s spotlight, as you may recall, has been a part of our family for many years. Sunday School and AWANA. The list goes on. I do not know what I expected from our conversation…our group conversation, given where each of us at that table is in and has a different way of connecting. Sam and I got about half an hour alone with Tom. As Tom and I have kept in contact, we caught up quickly on current events. Sam listened and joined in. The dynamic changed when Wes and Joey arrived. Tom and Wes have not seen each other in close to thirty years. The catching up was a little more what one might expect, based on that. What are you up to seemed to be the only question needed to consume the next hour or so. How? Wes gave a very succinct and exact account of his work and life. When the same question was posed to Tom, the mood was tweaked ever so slightly to reveal very wide eyes and dropped jaws. Not for me so much because, again, Tom and I have kept up. I reckon I understated the magnitude of Tom’s heart, protection, personage. Tom shared with Wes, Joey, and Sam, just what a small slice of hell he has served to him every day. Tom has been married to Sharon since the late nineties. Between them they have fostered close to 100 kids. Tom’s kids were typically from situations where parents had been and still often were involved in drugs and alcohol. Sharon took on special needs kids. Currently, they have three living with them. Two are autistic and the third has CP and behavioral issues. Now, before you judge me for having said that Tom was dealt a slice of shit pie, it is not these kids…who are in their twenties…it is the rapid onset and progression of Alzheimer’s, Sharon, and therefore Tom deals with, all day. Every day. Throw in that Tom lost a close buddy of his (a grandson) a couple years back, and Tom certainly has enough reason to not be happy, or even remotely present. As Tom shared his journey, I watched the faces of my family. I saw the sadness reflected from Tom’s words as they fell repeatedly in to the unsuspecting ears of Wes, Joey, and Sam. It was not the sadness I focus or focused on inasmuch as it was the joy of knowing Tom. Tom has always been positive in the face of doom. That was my takeaway. I love Tom.
Final thoughts. Final, final thoughts:
What Charlie? I got me a Logan.
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