For reasons I can’t explain publicly, I have just had to make one of the toughest decisions of my life. It involves having to choose between two of the most people I love in the world.
Why, oh why, does life have to be so hard? Haven’t I sufferred enough? I mean, myself and also my family?
Since I’m only able to see my son twice a month for two hours at a time, it took me about a month to compile these pics and create this video.
Megabus #480
Cell phone left there
I found this flash mob on You Tube recently. I STILL tear up every time I watch it.
Exactly five years ago yesterday, at about this exact same time, I took my then pregnant and then wife, Sara to Fairview Southdale Hospital in Edina. She had been complaining of contractions for a few hours and knew it was time to go. After several grueling hours (well, only about 6 or 7), we were the proud parents of a beautiful new baby boy, Austin William. For the very first time, he had witnessed the odd sensation of dryness, the sound of his own screams, and the wondrous glow of flourescent lighting.
It’s sad to say, but this would be the first and (so far) the last time that Austin and his beloved and devoted daddy would be together on his birthday. Neither of us suspected that 10 months later, his mother would unilaterally decide to tear us apart.
July 22, 2006
Austin - 12-17-2010
Went to Heartland Church with both my sister AND my dad today! The message was very good. I’m impressed my dad came with us.
It was a beautiful day. Later, my dad and mom and I went over to Moch’s house for a cookout. We weren’t there for very long at all.
Spent a lot of time trying to learn how to create web parts in SharePoint 2010. I’ve been having some moderate success, but have still been running into some roadblocks now and then.
7:53AM So, I've resigned myself to just waiting out the next couple hours here at Union Station in Chicago until the Van Galder bus leaves here at 10:30. I'm sitting here outside of a McDonald's watching all the casual Friday commuters pouring in from the trains underneath me. It's very interesting, actually. I'd be curious to know how many people will have passed by me during this rush hour. It's quite amazing, actually. Now there's a huge bottleneck at the escalators going up to the street level. I WAS thinking about taking a Metra train over to O'Hare so I can catch the Van Galder bus from there since the schedules from there are much more frequent. But, I can't figure out which train/track or whatever I'm supposed to go on. I remember coming down here quite a bit when I was working for PPI back in the 90's. I was one of these poor mopes. (OMG, some guy just walked by with a white cowboy hat; thinking that e actually fits into the mix. Of course, I'm one to talk with my broken "computer-bag-on-wheels." I'm getting exhausted now. It was a horrible ride from Minneapolis. I had to share the seat next to me with someone for most of the ride. When I got on in Minneapolis, I sat next to this poor woman who was coming back from Montana, had been on the bus forever, and was planning on getting off at Tomah at 12:30 in the morning. From there, she was going to wait 9 some hours in order to meet up with her boyfriend in Wisconsin Dells. When I told her that the stop at Tomah was really nothing but a McDonald's there, and that I wasn't sure if it was even open 24 hours or not. But, what floored me even more, is that the distance between Tomah and the Dells was only about 40 minutes! I told her she could have walked there and made it sooner than had she waited the 9 hours. I guess what floored me EVEN MORE is that she also told me she had lived in the area all her life. In any event, the driver heard us talking and announced that he would make a special stop in the Dells. It's 8:43 now. I've been here in Chicago for 3 hours now. I'm over-tired. (What does that word even mean, actually?) Today is Sara's birthday. She's 34.
“How’s everything tasting?”
I’m convinced. There’s a nefarious conspiracy afoot, and, it’s occurring right before or eyes in every major restaurant chain in America.
Am I the only one out there that has noticed this most annoying trend in food service lately? I remember, oh, way back when, like sometime during the “I-Hate-Bush-Becauase-He’s-The-Worst-President-Ever-Even-Though-I-Don’t-Know-Why-or-Even-Really-Care-But-Since-All-My-Friends-Hate-Him-I-Feel-Like-I-Should-Too” era, or even when people actually still liked Tiger Woods, servers at restaurants, I mean ALL restaurants were in the habit of stopping at your table with fake grin and would ask, “How IS everything?”
(As I just wrote that, a real soothing, calming effect came over me; nostalgic remembrances of “the good ol’ days” when my waiter or waitress was genuinely concerned about my overall experience at their fine or not-so-find establishment. That refreshing question allowed me the freedom to comment, not only on the food, (which, is probably much more likely to get a favorable performance rating otherwise, I would have probably gone somewhere else), then say something a bit more controversial like, oh, I don’t know, THE CRUMMY SERVICE, THE FILTHY BATHROOM, THE RUDE, AND LOUD TABLE NEXT TO ME, THE FOUL AND MYSTERIOUS STENCH EMINATING FROM THE KITCHEN, etc., etc., etc.
But, today, when I go to my beloved and well-trusted “neighborhood grill,” Applebee’s, instead of my all-too-cheery server asking me whether or not my entire dining experience that they are providing for me is satisfactory, (“Could you PLEASE turn the speakers down just a bit? I wasn’t envisioning my first date with this girl to include Barbara Streisand’s throat bellowing into her ear such that her only impression of me would be watching my mouth move.), they are only asking about the FOOD!
“How is everything tasting?” The very nature of this question is Machiavellian. My server KNOWS that I only want to provide him or her with a very quick, yet polite answer in order to brush him off quickly. However, in that moment, I am ONLY allowed to provide a positive response. Nevermind, that my food showed up ten minutes late, that I never even saw the server until I had to ask for service from someone else randomly passing by.
Now, when it’s time to pay up and I have pen in hand and I’m about ready to write in the tip amount, what is on the forefront of my memory, my responses to his innocent yet insidious query, “How is everything tasting?” “Oh! Just great, thank you!”
As I move my thoughtful eye away from the attractive sconce in the upper left-hand corner of my view back down to the receipt, I find myself writing a $65.00 total on $50.00 tab, but not really realizing it until I’m driving home by myself . . .
