Los Lobos were, of course, great. For their encore, they filled the stage with dancing women from the crowd. You could barely see the band.
Category Archives: Uncategorized
Today
This morning we’re going to a sixtieth birthday brunch for a college friend. I’m old.
I just finished reading Everyman by Phillip Roth. I don’t recommend it to anyone my age. Depressing.
Tonight we’re seeing Los Lobos at the Zoo. Should be a great show.
Why is it…
…that some people cannot stand the fact that I am able to navigate through life soley on the basis of my good looks and charm?
The top image is a self portrait I took the lower
Moving toward the empty nest
We’re taking Lucia down to Ames today. She’s moving into an off campus appartment with three Landscape Arcthitecture students. Them in two weeks we deliver Quinn to the University of Minnesota and we will be alone in the house together. For years I’ve joked about how glad I’ll be to get them both out of the house, but faced with the reality of the situation, I’m starting to feel a little anxiety. I know I’m going to miss them a lot. They’ve grown up to be such vibrant young women.
I’m hot in the Ukraine
When I look at my “Footprints” I keep seeing what seems like someone from Ukraine googles something that connects them to my guestbook. Is it the same person? Or is there something in my guestbook that just happens to be hot in the former Soviet Union. Is there a way to find out what the search terms are for these google references?
New senility indicator
This morning I put my underwear on backwards.
Minnesota humor
I heard a good Minnesota joke yesteday. But you might have to be from here to get it.
Many of our towns and lakes have Indian names, like Wayzata (why-zetta) Minnihaha, Winnibigoshish, Pokekegema and Shakopee (Shock-o-pee).
Shakopee is an old Indian word for “electric fence.”
Butt-hole Surfin
A picture is worth a thousand words
The whole two yards
Count ’em, sixty biopsies.
A word about colonoscopy
Many, I suppose most, of you have not yet reached 50. Katie Courec has made it well known that everyone should get one of these at 50 for early detection of colon cancer. Good idea. But of course the very thought of a six foot long black rubber tube inserted in our asses scares the crap out of almost everyone except rache. Lucky me, because of crohn’s disease, I get to have one every two years. Let me assure you, my children, when your time comes, it’s not nearly as bad as you would imagine. They give you great drugs and depending on the skill of the driver, it’s barely noticable. For some reason, I didn’t have my regular guy today, and I was a little tender, there was some discomfort, but not as bad as, say having a cavity filled. I mean a cavity in a tooth.
Having said that, I’ll tell you the really shitty part is the twenty four hours preceding. First you can’t eat. Even at my age I have a metabolism similar to a chickadee. I get hungry. I’d be one of the first to go in a famine. Then that evening you have to take three eight ounce glasses of the clear, chilled, nonalcoholic beverage of your choice mixed with a tablespoon of a laxative that is only rivalled in foul taste by effectiveness. Do not, I repeat, do not plan to be more than 25 feet from a bathroom at any time. Repeat in the morning. So you show up for the procedure in a weakened state with a very clean bowel.
Tip: After several of these, I’ve found that tonic water is the best thing for masking the taste of the laxative. This is important, the thing that fills me with dread as I approach my appointment is not the black rubber hose, but the salty motor oil taste of Fleet Phospho-soda. Last time I puked before I could choke down the last dose.
A final note: They found a couple of polyps today. Never had one before. One was just a tiny lump, but the other one looked like a potato (oh, yeah, you get to watch the whole thing on TV, like Journey to the Center of Your Bowel) hanging down from the top. They told me that they were inflammatory, not cancerous, but the hypochondriac in me says, “Doctors Lie!”