East of Moline...

If you were to look up Shorewood, IL, on Google Earth or Google Maps or Google Mildly Useful Product #341, you would see that west of Shorewood, all the way to Moline, IL, on the Illinois-Iowa border and on the banks of the Mississippi, there is, essentially, nothing. Oh sure, there are maybe a couple of hundred houses stretched across a couple of hundred miles, but really, there's just nothing.

Driving along Route 52, or Route 80, it's a rather featureless landscape -- lots of flat fields, green in summer, brown any other time, growing corn, wheat, and soybeans, and providing forage and space for hogs and cattle. All of those are important -- but it makes for a boring, even dreary landscape.

Adding to the dreariness, we are here in Shorewood to celebrate and mourn. We are here to celebrate Cherie's dad's birthday, but here to mourn that this is likely the last birthday he will live to celebrate.

He suffers from terminal, metastatic prostate cancer. Seven years ago, while prepping for surgery to repair fractured, weakened bone in his upper right arm (the consequence of another cancer, liposarcoma, that he beat, and the severe doses of radiation he endured to beat it), doctors found the prostate cancer. He suffered every treatment the fine doctors at the University of Chicago could come up with -- chemotherapy, radiation, surgery, more chemotherapy, androgen deprivation (aka chemical castration), various drugs in various phases of clinical trial, and soon more radiation-- but no treatment has been able to fully arrest the growth and spread of the cancer. He has suffered loss of appetite -- for food and sex -- had to shit through a pillow, lost his hair, puked his guts out, pissed blood, filled with fluid, nearly gone comatose, had his testosterone level driven to zero, suffered radiation burns to his skin -- has survived every side effect that has been thrown at him -- but it hasn't stopped the cancer.

Instead, slowly, inexorably, it has spread to distant regions of his body. He has lesions in his shoulders, back, and ribs -- and more growing in other places, not large enough yet to show up on the various scans he endures on frequent visits to the hospital. Doctors long ago stopped talking about remission, first retreating to talking about slowing the disease, and now talking about "palliative" care -- reducing pain in the face of fairly imminent death. The lesions are growing, more are appearing, the cancer markers in his blood are more numerous, and the pain he suffers is greater by the day.

No amount or variety of painkillers eases the pain completely. Sometimes he swallows oxycodone until he passes out. He sleeps off and on all day. But the pain is always there. The lesions eat through bone, causing tremendous pain, and weakening his bones to the point of fracture. The lesion on his spine may eat right to his spinal cord, which he won't know until one day he wakes up paralyzed, or just doesn't wake up at all.

He's not yet 60, but he shuffles like an 80 year-old man. The radiation treatment he will soon begin will target the individual, visible lesions, seeking to shrink them and reduce their impact. Ultimately, the treatment will fail, and it will be time once more for a decision he has faced several times already -- fight on, or give in -- and die?

Fight on, he says. More medicine that makes me puke, he says. More radiation that burns my skin, he says. More chemotherapy that makes everything taste like metal and gives me hemorrhoids and makes my hair fall out, he says. I've fought for seven years, he says. I've seen four grandchildren born, seen the first reach first grade just today, he says. I've seen a son and a daughter become parents, and I've seen another daughter grow into one of Boston's finest surgeons, he says. Fuck you, cancer, he says. I'm not done with you yet. You may have taken my brother, mother, every uncle and aunt I've ever known, others I never got to know, and you may get me, he says, but NOT WITHOUT A FIGHT. Seven years and counting, and I'M NOT FINISHED.

And that's why I love him. For all the agony -- the pain, the suffering, side effects, the bad news, the march of treatment, failure, treatment, failure, treatment, failure -- he blazes on. For his children, grandchildren, wife, brother, friends, and for all those who fought and lost and all of those who fight on still, he blazes on.

West of Joliet...

Dateline!

That's a shout out to Eliza Schlesinger for all of those fans of the Last Comic Standing, from her gig on TheStream.TV. Check it out. Anyway..........

The whole clan is once again in this hamlet of nothingness known as the "Village of Shorewood", in eastern Illinois about 50 miles southwest of Chicago .

Sitting west of Joliet off of Exit 253 on Route 55 South, Shorewood sits on land formerly occupied by corn stalks, soybean plants, and the occasional cricket. Its largest feature (depending on how one defines "large") is either the "Del Webb" retirement community of "Shorewood Glen" in which I sit typing this, or the white water tower I see rising above the flatlands, shaped like a hot air balloon, with "Shorewood" painted on it in black, block letters.

The trailer park is big, too, but not quite as large as Shorewood Glen. It (the trailer park) may be more populated, though.

Cherie's parents bought into this "Active Adult" community two years ago yesterday -- about the time the housing market began to tank. Consequently, the part of the community where you'd find Casa de Raven is surrounded mostly by empty home lots awaiting new owners and new construction.

Pulte Homes is the developer behind "Del Webb" communities. Personally, I think it's time to retire the Del Webb brand name. Webb was a name that meant nothing to me prior to learning about Cherie's parents' home purchase. I have since learned that Webb was born in 1899, died in 1974, and was the real estate developer who (among other things) built the famed retirement community, "Sun City" in Phoenix, Arizona, and also built up Tuscon. All of this occurred between 1948 and 1960. He also built the Flamingo, Sahara, and Mint casinos in Las Vegas, and used his wealth to buy a share of ownership in the Yankees.

He was, by all accounts, quite accomplished.

Unfortunately for Pulte Homes, Webb's -- and Sun City's -- heyday was in the early 1960s. This means that the folks now retiring and searching for "active adult" communities (which like to bring in people around 55 yrs of age) were probably around 10-12 years old when Webb was at his peak. So, they probably barely recognize who he is, if they recognize him at all. His name is at this late date unlikely to retain any strong selling power -- when's the last time any of you thought, "When we retire, let's go to Sun City!"

Certainly, his name doesn't seem to have spared Pulte from the recession. This development is half-unfinished, and in many cases, empty home lots have reverted to nature. The lot behind the house I'm sitting in is now a small pond with reeds, snails, and at least one family of ducks.

More to come in the next post....

Right on cue...

...unable to stand the cold of Alaska without the warm embrace of the spotlight, Sarah Palin chimes in on health care and once again exploits her retarded son to make a point. Some terrible victim of the media she is....

Today...

...I biked 8 miles, and Cherie and I took the kids to Camden Yards to see the Red Sox put a whooping on the Orioles -- which they did, 18-10, to sweep the 3-game series. It was Audrey's second Red Sox game, after a game at Fenway last year with my brother. It was Edziu's first game ever. And damn, if both kids didn't act like saints for 3+ hours. My son sat quietly, watching the game, and Audrey cheered for Big Papi and munched on chocolate ice cream with sprinkles to battle the heat :-) And, after torrential rain in the morning, we found Camden under blue skies and sunshine.

I could not have asked for a better way to conclude the weekend. Now, 5 more business days to vacation.

It cannot come soon enough. I am ready to strangle my clients with my bare hands. I need a few days unplugged from my laptop and Blackberry. Paul, you need a Whataburger real estate scout for the mid-atlantic?

Why aren't there any Whataburgers here in the DC area, Paul? There are so many transplants from Texas and the rest of the South here, I bet Whataburger would kill. DC is dying for a non-McDonald's/BK burger joint besides 5 Guys -- its burgers are so greasy you can only eat there twice a year without inducing a heart attack or stroke.

And riddle me this -- why aren't there any Sonics closer to the DC metro area than Fredericksburg and Winchester? I mean honestly, if Sonic can open a franchise in Binghamton, where it's only warm enough for drive-up service 3 months out of the year, Sonic could make a killing in northern Virginia!

The Sports Guy at his self-indulgent best...

I love me some Sports Guy. I love me some Almost Famous. Here, I got both. Lovely.

So I got tired...

...of staring at that long article. I won't do that again. That was just obnoxious.

In other news, I am still employed. Good times. Check back again in September, when the "new organizational structure" is announced.

Peculiar family values...

I don't often agree with Sally Quinn. Mostly, I think she's useless, and has been riding her marriage to Ben Bradlee for a long time. But, in this article about Sarah Palin, I think she's dead right. I'm sick to death of hearing Palin bemoan her victim status, when she's dragged herself and her children into the spotlight again, and again, and again. She's no one's victim except her own. If only her children could say the same.

Great Storyteller

Hey, Chaps. Your ex-wife got a job at Lockheed Martin. Must be a huge step down from that work at Geffen.

All divisions outside the AL East are poo-poo...discuss....

At nearly the halfway point of the 2009 MLB season, the AL East remains the superior division in baseball.

The AL East has 4 of the top 10 teams in the AL, including 3 of the top 5 (#1, #2, and #5).

4 of its 5 teams are over .500, with 3 teams at .550 or better. The other divisions:

AL Central: 3 teams over .500, but only 1 over .550
AL West: 3 teams over .500, but only 1 over .550
NL East: 2 teams over .500, 0 teams over .550
NL Central: 3 teams over .500, 0 teams over .550
NL West: 3 teams over .500, 1 team over .550

The other division leaders would be in the following positions in the AL East:

1. AL Central -- Detroit Tigers (.551) -- 3rd place, just ahead of the Tampa Bay Rays (.550)
2. AL West -- LA Angels (.553) -- 3rd place, just ahead of the Tampa Bay Rays (.550)
3. NL East -- Philadelphia Phillies (.520) 5th place, behind the Toronto Blue Jays (.525)
4. NL Central -- Milwaukee Brewers (.538) 4th place, ahead of the Toronto Blue Jays (.525)
5. NL West -- LA Dodgers (.633) 1st place, 1.5 games ahead of the Red Sox

Just my way of saying, The AL East is MONEY, and so are my RED SOX.

The History of Golden Tee

Thank goodness at least one person around here still reads newspapers in print form. This eye-opening article revealed that I live near ground zero for Golden Tee-dom. Proper.

Oh Retro TV, how do I love thee?

Airwolf, Magnum, the Beaver, Incredible Hulk, Knight Rider, A-Team, the Hardy Boys, Buck Rogers, classic Battlestar Galactica, and Alfred Hitchcock, all on one channel?

It's all the TV I watched when I was 10, and on one channel! How can I resist?

Oh, and I left out the Rockford Files!

It's awesomeness and crapitude all rolled up in one!

Terry Francona is giving me agita...

Last night, ageless Tim Wakefield was, if not cruising, certainly easing through the Yankees lineup, with a 6-3 lead after 6, and not appearing to struggle. The whole value of Wakefield is that when he's not struggling, he's an innings-eater.

So what did Francona do? Sat him after 6 and brought in Ramon Ramirez, who promptly gave up back-to-back home runs. Though the Red Sox hung on for a 6-5 win, it was a managerial move that made no sense.

Tonight, Brad Penny has absolutely cruised through 6, shutting out the Yankees and protecting a 1-0 lead. He was in rhythm, befuddling most of the brutal Yankees' lineup.

So what did Francona do? Sit him after 6, bringing in Manny Delcarmen...who promptly gave up 3 runs, putting the Red Sox down, 3-1.

Gaaahhhh!! It's ok to leave your starters in more than 6 innings, Terry, especially when they're doing well. Gaahhh!

A Capital Idea

It has occurred to me several times over the past few months that next February will mark the 10th anniversary of Russ the Bus booting the gentleman of 4319 44th Street from their long-time living space. Though my IQ and general decision making declines precipitously when I return to Tenleytown, it seems to me that a reunion-type gathering is in order.

I've already talked* to the current owners of 4319 and they've agreed* to let us rent the house for a week for 1/4 *of what we paid monthly in 2000. I thought that was very generous of them and immediately accepted*. I'll collect the $300 from you later.* It'll be great to be back in that place.*

Boo also was ok* with our return for a week though he will be on vacation*. I also managed to track down* the owner of the building that used to house the Malt Shop. He agreed to open the building up for us - we can't bring alcohol there but there are some kegs left over from before the old place left.* I figured that's ok because it has to be better than the current Malt Shop.+

Things are in motion. So, start thinking about setting some time aside next February for a trip to DC. Since all of you seem to be moving to the area anyway, you won't have much excuse for not making it.

*Not even close to being true.
+Sadly, true.

To be angry or envious...I couldn't decide....

For most of the last two weeks in northern Virginia, it has rained just about every day. So, yesterday, when the sun emerged just as we picked up the kids from daycare, Cherie and I decided to take the entire family out to eat at one of the many restaurants with outdoor seating at the Kingstowne shopping center.

Kingstowne is usually swamped with teenagers. Apparently, loitering at the outdoor shopping center has replaced loitering at the indoor mall as a rite of passage for teenagers in this country.

Yesterday was no different. They were everywhere, and as we drove by the movie theater toward the parking garage, I noticed several couples engaged in one form of PDA or another.

Not long after pulling into the parking garage, we spied an empty parking spot just across from the elevator that led to the movie theater and a number of restaurants. We immediately pulled into it. I got out and began to turn toward the back of the car to get Audrey out of her car seat.

It was as I turned that I noticed that a young man was seated in the driver's seat of the SUV next to us -- possibly Indian, but definitely of some South Asian origin. And then I noticed, hey, there's someone -- a girl -- stretched across from the front passenger's seat -- and hey -- her head is bobbing up and down over his lap. Hey, wait, she's -- she's -- oh my god, she's giving him a BJ right there in the front seat of the SUV 2 feet from me!!

I simultaneouly registered two opposing thoughts:

First: hey, this is terrible, this is disgusting, I have my kids here, they don't need to see that, why don't you two find some other less trafficked locale for this kind of action ?!

Second: damn, that is one lucky bastard. I remember those days, and they're too long past.

2004 World Series Champions*

*Cheaters.

Vacation, Day 3

I took this picture of Pike's Peak in Pike National Forest at the Crowe Gulch scenic overlook/ picnic area, elevation approximately 9000 feet. I scrambled up to the top of a jumble of granite boulders above the picnic area and had this view as a reward.

It was a cloudless day, and I had just descended from near the summit of the peak. Couldn't get all the way up, because a massive snowstorm shut down both the last few miles of the highway and the last mile or so of the cog train. So, instead of summiting at 14,000+ feet, I settled for about 13,600 feet. Still the highest I've ever been, with the Olympic Mts. and Mount Fuji both earning honorable mention.

It also turned out to be fortuitous that I traveled to Pike's Peak and the Pike National Forest...because today, the entire region was beset by thick fog. Cherie and I tried to go back so she could see the Peak (she was conferencing all day yesterday), and instead, we saw nothing. The fog was so thick at 9,000 feet that had I tried to take the same picture a day later, it would have looked like I took a picture of nothing. Couldn't see 5 feet in front of us -- it got so bad, we turned around at about 10,000 feet, because it you couldn't even see headlights coming at you from a few feet away -- it was just too dangerous, so we drove back down and stopped at Phantom Canyon Brewing Company for some libations. Yum.

Vacation, Day 1

While we're at it

Meet the new director of marketing & communications at Mohawk Valley Community College.

Positive movement...

Earlier this morning, I received a confirmed job offer from the firm that will be acquiring my current employer. In the interests of starting fresh, this will be the last blog post concerning anything of a professional nature at all related to my job. I will continue to post on other topics.

We'll see how long this lasts (my new job, and not posting about it).

The Blog Drinking Game

We missed the five year anniversary of this site.

Drink.