Flashback Friday

Star Date 09092016

Two Fridays ago, I was sitting in pre-op for Ben’s removal. …still don’t have the results of that biopsy. Hopefully my head heals a little better than my finger seems to be. No funky smell from Ben, Just a rather deformed appearance. I’d upload a picture, but it even kinda grosses me out…and that’s sayin somethin. Speakin of sayin somethin, today’s song from Charlie is, ” I Say a Little Prayer” …not the Dionne Warwick version, but the Aretha Franklin version. It’s a little sassier and more upbeat. Less nostril involved. Just sayin. The Aretha version, should include Burt Bacharach on piano…since he c0-wrote. Props. To Austin Powers as well. Burt in the background.

So, there I am brushing my teeth, humming Charlie’s song of the day, and reflecting on the loss of Ben, two weeks ago. I was laying on the operating table, I felt a strange tugging sensation on my left hand…like if on some random Sunday Dinner (which, by divine law, does not necessarily mean Sunday, but no earlier than Friday)…Mushu were able to grab hold of my finger and carry off my hand to pick at my knuckle with her canines. It was in that moment that having Ben removed seemed quite silly in the grand scheme of things…news…life. I had my teeth cleaned the following week. Also a waste of time? The joys of flashback Friday. You were hoping for something more uplifting? Me too. Some days just feel slightly tilted, askew, askance. Today is one of those days. It is our last day in Sac. Jubilee. Nope. Partial jubilee, mayhaps? Me thinks. Michael has a smoker. Ribs. Michael made his special seasoning blend for the meat rub. Teehee. Then Michael uttered something along the lines of blasphemy. Just get ribs from Bel Air or Safeway. It took Casey and using the very stretchy Logan as back up, everything to restrain me. I thought Michael might actually beg for death. Grocery store ribs. “Youth is wasted on the young.” (reference best Christmas flick of all time – It’s A Wonderful Life):

Okay…so Michael never came close to death. Everyone else knows that my meat is nothing to be trifled with. …er…meat cannot be beat…er. As it turns out, people forget about local butchers. ….

Life lesson. Hi there. I wanna shout out to the yute’s who are both able to and actually reading this. Find a butcher. This is a multi-step process. Internet search for butchers near me. This may fail. Prior to failing this search, call the butcher to make sure they have a shop. You can also do a search for meat markets…As I have a few years on most, this turned out phenomenal results…not so much. Turns out that the location you are searching from may offer different results than I encountered. As I have spent the week in the central valley of CA, I am exactly where I can safely type such a search string (alliteration). Dee’s Meats of Galt, CA. Commit it to memory, Michael. If you don’t, Casey is likely to brain you. Congrats on the lack of tumour for Casey’s headaches. MRI came back clean. For 80% of 100%, I walked out with a rack of babybacks, rack of St. Louis style, 4 pounds bacon (pepper, thick, regular), 6 pounds of pre-marinated/vacuum sealed chicken breasts, and two packs of jalapeno and cheddar beef sticks (Norm). I was pleased to have added this nugget to my Charlie nugget…more importantly to have lived long enough to know to find a good butcher. Do not judge me for my knowledge of meat. I’ve spent the better part of my life looking for good, solid meat…what I mean is…forget it. If I say I’m headed to Herb Brittner’s to anyone back in my hometown of Pitts, watch em drool. Can’t ever get enough of Herb’s smoked meat.

Back in Sac. The rub is on. The smoker is on. Tonight, although ultimately very sad, will have a happy, meaty mooment…see what I did there? Sam will be joining this eve as well. Double happy…double sad.

Yep. Enjoy the bottle read

Michael and Casey have been gracious and generous hosts and I cannot thank either of them enough for allowing us to interfere with their daily lives. By the time Casey reads this, Logan will be safely away in Pittsburgh. Muwahahahaha. What? No farting gifts?…parting gift…my bad. Speaking of farts. Princess Buttercup…I know we’ve covered this, but she is explosive. In fact, as I type this, it would seem she farted herself in to some sort of hiccup frenzy. She has no clue how powerful this can be for her. I will work with her to have her learn the lost art of the forced fart. Yep…this sh** just comes to me.

More flashback moments. Les. Rob. Les is the spotlight today, but Rob is spending his last in the forties. Happy birthday to my bro, brah. And, Les. Les and I did not start out as friends. I am fairly certain Les actually wanted to kill me when we first met. Not sure why. Then one day, Les and I sat next to each other in a meeting. Both of us making comments under our breath. I do not recall the comments being meant for the other, per se, rather just being made to …well…to be made. That and working a couple night shifts sealed the friendship. It was not long before our boss would split us up during meetings. Never on the floor. She tried putting us at opposite ends of the table. Mistake. She tried having us sit next to each other in the middle of the desk. Nope. She tried splitting us between other management folk. That just got the managers in trouble. Alas, we won. Les and I were not meant to be in the same state for very long. He and Cassie headed back to TX to be close to family. Les lost Cassie to El Cancer. Les becomes an RN. Les becomes a hospice RN. Fast forward a bit. Jess and I, Les and Sonya (Les’s wife) are sitting in a restaurant in TX. Fast forward a bit more. And …stop. We hope the next part moves quickly. Les and Sonya are dealing with Sonya’s story. Perspective:

BTW, Les is also an accomplished wrapper…crapper? rapper. That’s it. Well…Actually…Les is accomplished at all three. Les and I share similar rivers as they pertain to starting points and such. …as well as a few points along the way. So screwed up is he for choosing TX over me. Alright. Sonya deserves him a little.

I am not ready to leave this place, yet ready to be in our place. I already miss my girls and I am still 12 hours from leaving them. Missing all my peeps. Not the marshmallow things…those are gross.

Fast forward. Both styles of rib were delicious. Michael’s personal meat rub was quite tasty…as was Dick’s rub. Sam will be here in about half an hour. I believe the shower was a good call on my part. Smoke is gone…but the fire remains. Oh Yeah. We have determined that we will need to leave the kids’ house by 0445 tomorrow to get the car back and so on. Back at our home airport sometime around 5pm Eastern. A very long day. I am tired and am listening to Michael and Casey interact on the couch…together…for the first time since we’ve been here. Again, gracious hosts. They are a phenomenal team and are clearly MFEO (made for each other – reference Sleepless in Seattle). I will do what I can to force some happy. All of the little things along the way, starting with a very long road trip and lots of good conversation and laughter. Time with the Zempels…less Ms. Sophia…whom I got to bother, not once, but twice. Time with Renfros plus a Ma, but minus all Renfro kids. Time with my girls and the babiest of tiny girls. What a week.

Final thought. Though I know how the surgery will turn out in now less than 30 days, I do have fleeting thoughts of what if this the last time I get to see my West coast family? Yes…I know it is Friday and should be fun day. And it is. But that fleeting moment has been brought front and off center…and slightly behind my right eye. F you Charlie. My East coast family awaits and I am equally thankful and mindful of them. Charlie and eye…er…I say goodnight from CA.