Throwback Thursday: Rehoboth Beach

Rehoboth Beach Boardwalk, Spring/Summer of 1992. The year the first townhome was purchased as a summer rental and 3-season get-a-way.

Rehoboth: North Shores - Whiskey Beach, 1992. Mostly gay folks with and without kids. No tourists. Not crowded and before the era of cell phones - quiet. No snack bar so you brought your own and carried your refuse out of the park with you.

More later.
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Accidents & Anxious Monday

There were 3 multi-vehicle accidents between my place and the Center yesterday. The first before I even got out of town, at the infamous circle that drivers don’t know how to navigate. (Neighboring states have different rules applying to circles.) This only added to my anxiety because the next one on the highway looked really bad. Vehicle parts strewn across the roadway and a makeshift triage on the shoulder grassy area.

I was almost broadsided by a dumpster truck that decided to make a U-turn where there isn’t one. I hit the brakes, steered out of his way, and he shot ME the bird. I was near combustion at that point. 

My anxiety level was already elevated having noticed something had sprouted overnight. A rather large lesion, about the size of a quarter between the lip and chin on the right side of my face. It is dark purple, doesn’t hurt, itch, or anything. It’s quite flat.  Looks like someone socked me in the face.

It’s scary, reminding me a little like KS. After years as a buddy in the 80s, I saw a lot of those monsters devour faces, feet, and hands. Back then there wasn’t much in the way of treatments since up until the AIDS pandemic, it had been a rare cancer usually limited to the elderly. Well, I guess I qualify for that status nowadays. And with the Chemo treatments, a whole Pandora’s Box of possible infections has probably been unleashed in my body.

There are new treatments, including radiation, and even a topical protocol that can help. I read more about it before heading to the Center for the Labs. 

The nurses wouldn’t comment on it, so I didn’t push the issue.   I knew I’d be seeing the doctor later today, so I waited.

The bad news is my neutrophil count is in the gutter, so I must wear a mask everywhere in public while I spend the next 3 days receiving Neupogen injections in a effort to boost their struggling numbers. 

Stopped at the liquor store for wine which helped me get some sleep last night, but not much.  Tuesday arrived much too soon. As it is now, I’m wired, not the least bit tired. Just anxious, very, very anxious.

Off to the doctor’s appointment and Neupogen shot number 2. Gawd, but my life is just one thrill after another…

More later.

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Happy Hour: Munchies and Mayhem

Dark & Stormy

In all my years living here I have never seen the town so full and bursting at the seams. Although many colleges started classes last week, the crowds were enormous.

In an attempt to head ‘em off at the pass, (and assure myself a weekend parking space) I ran to the pharmacy early - less than 2 miles away - and it took 45 minutes to do the deed. Aside from 5 or 6 minutes picking up the prescriptions, the rest was spent in heavier than usual traffic.

Even at 9:30 a.m. drivers were in a bad mood.  I was an obstacle in their way to the beach, if you get my drift. The speed limit in town is 25mph. I was one of a few locals obeying the law, also one of the few drivers not to be pulled over for speeding.  This did nothing for the visitors' attitude. Nothing.

Now available pre-mixed.

My parking space was still vacant when I returned. I cheered and blessed the Universe. Spent the rest of the day doing bits of nothing; passing time until 4:30 when Linda’s chariot parked out front and beckoned me aboard for a few hours of frivolity and sick humor.  Oh, and cocktails…let’s not forget the cocktails.  Sean made my Dark & Stormy’s and I was in heaven. Jeffrey tried a “Daddieo-Paddio” (sp?) which is a sort of rum martini, but sweet. I had a sip.  It’s lethal, trust me.

This being the last weekend before Labor Day a few of the usual suspects couldn’t join in the fun, but we shared photos and text messages with them, so as not to be totally left out.

As we munched on shredded beef nachos, mussels, clams, and hog wings (yes, we were at Pig & Fish) the funny and not-so-funny stories were shared and

passed around.  Even the P&F staff told a few of their own tales of woe.  Looks like it was the same stories all over town.

Jeffrey, Me, Frank

Tourists were more arrogant and needy this summer than in the past. Large families not willing to give an inch to anyone in their way of having their vacation experience exactly as planned.  Sad, really. So much angst when they ought to have been relaxed and laid back. 

As we were clearing up the tab, the owner of another restaurant came over to chat. His is a classical Irish pub with traditional local Irish foods and always very good. He invited us to celebrate post-Labor Day at his place next Monday after everyone gets off from their shift. It’s to be a special Happy Hour/Party for downtown service workers to wind down from the Summer-from-hell. There’ll be drink specials, of course, as well as a few surprise food specials that made Linda’s mouth water. He had me when he mentioned Irish sausages.

Stoney Lonen Irish Pub & Eatery.

Linda, being an Irish lass and knowing the owner better than any of us, quickly accepted the invitation, informing us all (me included, she will pick me up) that we are to meet there on Monday afternoon. So, now there is another social gig on the horizon to look forward to…I am soooo there!

Before driving me home, Linda took a tour of the town and amazed me with the staggering number of people walking around as well as those driving around (and around) in search of a parking spot. The beach block was insanity writ large, and not having been in large groups or crowds in a year, made me uneasy, even though I was in the car behind plate glass.

Amazingly, just 2 blocks away, my street was a quiet sanctuary with only parked cars evidence of the mayhem just around the corner. 

Ten days from now it will all be over; visitors will all be gone and the town returned to us, a little worn out, but still intact.

I was in bed before 8 o’clock and feeling like a million bucks.

And so it goes.

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Throw Back Thursday: Mystic

Mystic Seaport, Connecticut

Circa 1985

I had that monstrous camera bag and that shirt until a few years ago.  Hated the bag, loved the shirt.

And so it goes.

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Another Day: Where Am I?

Day Two of Cycle Three of Chemo, that’s where! 

Today was “Let’s Bitch About the Summer Traffic” day. And man, did they ever bitch. It was inevitable; it’s August. There were plenty a damning story - or a harrowing tale of the stoopid - to tell.  I listened and chuckled to myself feeling grateful. I simply do my little centering exercise before hitting the road then tune out the madness. No stress for me.

One older gentleman (using the term loosely) bellowed for a half hour about having to drive to the Center in heavy traffic no matter the time of his appointments. He’s just moved here from the DC area and hasn’t figured out the back roads yet.

Granted, everyone has to spend some time on the Coastal Highway, but using back roads can cut that time considerably, if you know how to do it.

If you are unfortunate enough to live in one of the newer developments with outlets only to the highway, your ass is grass, as we say. Whether you need to travel north or south, you’re going to pay the price.

Most of today’s complainers lived south and/or west, so the patients who also live in those areas shared the secrets of avoiding the worst of highway travel. The routes may take them out of their way, but they’ll still get to the Center in less time and stress-free. Those living north and west already know the shortcuts allowing them to simply cross the highway and not get stuck on it.

As I wrote a while back, this is the first summer I’ve had to face highway traffic - and on a daily basis - so it was either find a good quiet place for my head or sit up and wait for it to explode.  I chose the former and it works well for me.  It’s also how I found my fab silver queen farmer’s parking place, so the cloud had a silver (queen) lining.  Oooh, sorry!

Following my treatment, and as suggested by Roger (the dear) over at 3rdnlong, I hung around and visited with a new patient who seemed overwhelmed. He was about my age, I suppose. When he was ushered in alone, his eyes were the size of dinner plates; they were much smaller when I left him. He wasn’t sure what to make of the chatting, carrying on, or the humor between patients and staff. I hope our time together helped to relax him a little.  

I just received this: one of the daytime cooks at DL was riding his scooter home on Coastal highway in heavy rain on Saturday clinging to the shoulder of the road using the bicycle lane, when he was hit by an SUV trying to dodge slow traffic in the turn lane. He’s in hospital with broken pelvis, broken leg, and shattered right arm.  Doctors are hopeful, but he’ll probably never be a professional cook again. 

You couldn’t get me on the highway on a scooter on a clear afternoon, but in a heavy downpour??? He was crazy to even try it. He was warned and made his choice. He’ll be in hospital for months, then rehab a few more months. I’ll visit in a few weeks, after all the painkillers and surgeries, when he’s on the mend.

Sometimes smart people do stupid things. As I raise my hand in total agreement.

And so it goes.

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Aw Shucks!

Uncle Joe and Dr. Jill paid our little beach town a visit yesterday and I missed them. They were 2 blocks away at the Convention Center and didn’t even call to say they were in town.  I’m crushed. Crushed, I tells ya.

For you non-Delawarians, Uncle Joe is Vice President Joe Biden and of course, Dr. Jill is his lovely wife. Delawarians themselves, of course, and good people.  Our local elections are only a week away, so that may have had something to do with the visit. Seems they came to town by motorcade, did a fundraiser, or whatever and then suddenly whisked away by Helicopter in the early evening.  

This turn of events surprised everyone involved. There was talk that a cocktail reception was planned, but that never happened. Half hour later, the area was hit by a thunderstorm with rain and lightening of such a destructive nature that cars simply stopped in the streets, unable to see to drive, and the streets were cleared of pedestrians in seconds. 

Something tells me the gubmint has far better forecasters than the rest of us. The limos retreated quietly back to the highway as the first storm cleared. A second storm arrived within an hour of their departure. Interesting, no?

Awesome Steak! 

I decided I wasn’t terribly crushed by the brush-off, I prepared a quick supper (in case there was a power outage) and had a glass, or two, of Merlot. That truly was a melt-in-your-mouth petit filet. Just enough for one! Absolutely heaven. To hell with kissing the chef.  I’ll kiss the butcher - anytime.

The storms continued through the night, making it almost impossible to sleep comfortably. And it’s been raining most of the day. I’m staying in, doing some reading and when I feel the urge, a bit of cleaning. Plan to venture outdoors on the morrow, as they say. The sky is supposed to clear by then.

And so it goes.

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It’s All Good

Homes facing the ocean seen from the boardwalk.

It’s been a first rate kind of day.  Not having to be anywhere near anything even remotely medical was a real joy. I took my walk on the boardwalk at dawn, then sat with an iced coffee on a bench watching the walkers, runners, cyclists (bicycles are banned after 10 a.m.), and groups of friends heading out to breakfast after what appeared to the naked eye to be a very happy Friday evening on the town. 

None the worse for wear from my 2 Dark & Stormy’s last night, I felt in fine fettle, as it were. One of those rare, for me anyway, mornings where everything felt as it should. Everything at peace.  I know reality is far from that, but for a few brief moments it worked for me.

Got into the car and drove to my Silver Queen farmer’s staked out spot and waited for his arrival.  Snagged another 6 small ears and was told that there will be corn for another week, or two.  Then that’s it until next year.  Though the ears are smaller than most corn, I can eat only 2 at a sitting, and I don’t want them to dry or turn starchy. Pigging out on Silver Queen this weekend is a good thing.

Too bad the stuff can’t be hoarded or frozen - it loses it’s fine texture and sweetness after freezing, unless you take it off the cob and par-boil it beforehand.  That ruins the taste for me. I’m grateful for what I’ve had this year. 

Was going to stop for a few bottles of wine, but the car parks at the liquor stores were overflowing and I didn’t feel like waiting, since there were others there ahead of me. There must be something going on in the beach communities this weekend that I don’t know about - which in itself isn’t unusual. I don’t keep track of these things anymore.  Traffic was already bumper-to-bumper as I drove home before noon. I have a bottle each of Chardonnay and Merlot left, so any new purchase can wait until Monday. 

Visited a few fave blogs and caught up on lives and news. I was especially intrigued by Fearsome’s recent posts from Comic-Con.  In the process I discovered what will likely be a future Nexus reading adventure.  I’d not heard of the “Outlander” books before. So I used the Google to learn more.

They sound interesting, so I will definitely check them out. The Kindle editions are available on Amazon, so it will be easy to get started. There’s also a TeeVee series based on the books set to air in the US next month.  Of course, I won’t see it; not having TeeVee service and all, but it looks well done,  interesting.

The nicest part of today was receiving text messages from the usual suspects from last evening, saying how much fun they had and that we really have to do it again in a week, or two.  

Last evening’s event was a reminder of how much these people mean to me. I don’t know if I mean the same to them, but that doesn’t matter. They bring such joy, humor, and a healthy dose of crazy into my otherwise stifled life, that I could never thank them enough. Besides, if I got all mushy like this with them, they’d slap me upside the head and tell me to drink up!  And, I would.

Well, in about 2 weeks the schools and colleges begin opening and that should make parking and getting around town a hell-of-a-lot easier.  So, yeah, Thursday or Friday Happy Hour!?!  Game on!

And so it goes.

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Stirring up Trouble & Stir Fry

Just when I thought it was safe to take a short walk around town, there was an

attempted robbery - yes, here in town - and the summer rent-a-cops are having a law-enforcement field day.

As I watched the chaos unfolding, hearing the shouts and crackling radios, I realized no one knew what he or she was doing. So, I did an about-face and returned home. The walk will wait for another day.

After the morning lab work and Neupogen shot, I stopped at the market for veggie fixin’s - red pepper, snow peas, bamboo shoots, spring onions, and broccoli.  I’ve been on a stir-fry kick lately. Wokking everything in sight; chicken, pork, beef are alternately on the menu. Nothing is safe from my Wok! Such cooking adds spice and zip to my otherwise bland diet. I need the extra zip because my taste buds are not functioning well and spicing things up helps a lot.

Tonight will be sliced pork in a hoisin and peanut sauce. With sticky rice, of course. There is usually enough  left over for another meal, so when I am tired and don’t feel like cooking, it’s pork stir-fry magical microwave time.  Supper in less than 10 minutes.

Just received a text from Linda, the wee Irish Lass, and my old GM at Dos Locos, wanting to set up a Happy Hour Birthday Celebration with me this week. I had hoped no one would remember, but no such luck. She ticked off 5 options, informing me that there will be at least 4 other folks involved and that I will be picked up and delivered home for the occasion. No Ifs - Ands - Buts about it. She asked what I wanted for my birthday…I chose not to share my real wish.

The final Neupogen shot happens tomorrow along with a double transfusion session, so I suggested we aim for Thursday afternoon.  With new blood coursing through my veins I should have the energy of a bear and will likely be more positive about the whole affair than I am right now. 

Still, it’s nice that she is thinking of me and wants to spend some quality time with me. (Ahem! What she really wants to do is get me drunk with friends. She may just succeed.) She and the other 4 cohorts are former co-workers of mine at Dos Locos, so it ought to be a hell of a good time.

Meanwhile, many of the ebooks I’ve downloaded in the resent past have been rejected for one reason or another. Bad writing, editing, proofing, and storytelling...and I don't think I'm that hard to please.

I find myself wanting to revisit books read many years ago.  I also find that they hold up better, writing-wise, than most of the new product on the market. Then imagine my surprise when, today I found another Pern book from the Dragon series. Of course, I downloaded it,  “The Dolphins of Pern” will be special (read distracting) for tomorrow while being transfused.  

Sometimes life does indeed suck, but this isn’t one of those times.

And so it goes.

Sunday at the Beach With Tourists

The fool-proof way I know Sunday from the other days anymore, is by the ringing bells of All Saints Episcopal Church a few blocks away. Other than that, the days just run one into another with little  discernible difference. The only distinguishing markings are scribblings on the calendar to let me know when I have to be where, and at what time. 

Although rain was threatening, I went down to the boardwalk at dawn and had a nice walk. Met some lovely people from Chicago on their first visit and we sat on a bench for a while with iced coffees in hand while I gave them a few tips for things to see and do that are either totally free, or request small donations. 

Of course, they wanted dining suggestions, as well, and you know me, I was all too happy to oblige with a few of my favorites. They wanted to leave their cars parked as much as possible and enjoy what the town has to offer. Fortunately, everything is within walking distance of the beach and their B & B. 

I had suggestions for Lewes, too.  Especially a visit to the Zwaanendael Museum in the center of town. A Little bit of Dutch in Delaware. The Dutch  settled the place, you know.  The building is modeled after the town hall in Hoorn, the Netherlands and a visit is always a treat.

Suggested having lunch at one of the restaurants on the Lewes-Rehoboth canal

which leads directly to Delaware Bay and the Atlantic Ocean. Could be a relaxing day trip.

They had plenty of questions regarding the history of Rehoboth Beach and Lewes.  They chose Delaware for this year’s holiday because of a couple of articles they’d read and a few visits to various RB websites.

Turns out they’re staying in the B & B owned by two guys I know and were relieved to get a good review. Seems their previous B & B experience wasn’t such a good one - on Old Cape Cod. They couldn’t believe the kindness, friendliness and generosity of us local folks.  

Our willingness to engage in conversation with strangers, pride in the town and local businesses really took them by surprise. That’s usually the case when folks come to visit from far away big cities; there's always that fear of being ripped off, taken advantage of, or dismissed as only a bottomless money-pit.  In spite of what you may have read elsewhere, it ain’t like that here.

Anyway. I had to keep my appointment for the shot, so I left them with a short list of eateries, and local businesses for shopping - in town.  Not the outlet stores. They can get far better merchandise and better bargains right here in town.

Yes, I also told them to enjoy at least one dining out event at Dos Locos.  They like Mexican food and were grateful for the suggestion. These people are really nice and I am sure the Locosguys will love them, too.

Coming home from the Center all southbound traffic came to a screeching stop. A 4-car pile up - involving all three lanes - had the state police quite busy for a while.  We had to wait for the helicopter med-evac to leave, and the roadway was cleared of the auto parts and other debris.  An hour and forty five minutes later, we were on our way. That was my cue. Parked and home until I have to get the next shot tomorrow at 8 a.m.

Forty-three days til Labor Day - which is early this year - and it’s all over. (Yes, I am counting. Just shoot me!) Some schools and colleges start in about a month, so things should lighten up around here at that time. May it be so.

And so it goes.

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Give, Take, Change, Manipulate

Changed appointment time for the Chemo today so I could get to the surgeon’s office for the possible  removal of the port-a-cath. There was no way I could have been at the Center at 1:30 then her office by 2:00 - even on a good day without beach traffic.  

I gave myself plenty of time. That was a very good thing because it took longer for the pharmacist to mix the Chemo_cocktail today than on previous occasions. There were also thunderstorms in the area making traffic another ordeal to contend with, but I made it to the doctor’s office in good order. Only witnessed 2 fender-benders that (fortunately) didn’t happen in my lane of traffic. 

Not exactly smooth sailing, but better than expected on a July day. Brought reading material for the wait. As it was, it took 40 minutes to drive the 4 miles from one to the other. Then, it took over an hour to drive home. A total of about 6 miles. Hey!  It’s summer at the beach!

Long story short: Doctor didn’t remove the port.  

The site is taking forever to heal over properly.  I guess that’s what a compromised immune system does. Healing that used to take a few days can now take weeks. The doctor asked that I try manipulating the port under the skin to keep it moving and maybe continue to develop a healthy outer surface.  She gave it another 2 weeks. She also took the precaution of scheduling a new date for replacement surgery.  She’ll remove the port on the right, replacing it with another one embedded in more fatty tissue (we hope) on the left.  Hey!  It’s a two-fer!!!

So now, instead of sexual fantasies I get to play with er’ manipulate my port-a-cath a few times daily.  Sounds like a very strange plan, but since I’ve got nothing else to do, it works for me.

As some of you may know, I use cash only when I absolutely have no other choice. I prefer to use cards for everything and anything throughout the month, then pay off the lot when the bill arrives. Why not use their money instead of mine? Plus, all cards in my wallet offer some kind of bonus: Cash back, travel points, shopping credits, you get the idea.

This setup has served me well for years and offers a great way to watch the budget, as well, since all transactions are itemized on each statement. Well, I arrived home this afternoon in the rain to find 3 items in the mailbox; a brochure for an adult hearing seminar (no joke!) a propaganda leaflet for the upcoming election for city mayor, and…a $100.00 gift card announcement with the retailer of my choice. 

Well, that was easy.  None of the suggested retailers are located nearby, so I went with my usual, obvious choice - Amazon.  The truth is that the nearest tacky Mall is about 45 miles away and the nearest chic Mall is almost twice that distance. So, Amazon was a given.  

The thing is, I don’t NEED anything - ok, aside from working bone marrow - but I know a person or two who could probably make use of this windfall gift. If they will choose to accept it.  Always iffy, when pride is involved.  I’ll give it a shot. No one else has to know. 

It takes nothing away from me to give to others. Why is it so difficult to understand this very simple concept?  Dunno.

And so it goes.

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Disturbing Night - Stunning Sunrise.

Sunrise over the Atlantic this morning. Cool, and quiet; few people around. I grabbed the camera and headed to the beach just at dawn. By the time I got my large iced coffee the sun was already where you see it in the image, but partly behind a band of clouds. Very pretty.  The photo doesn’t do justice, really. My boardwalk stroll was perfectly timed and if the camera didn’t register the gorgeous imagery, my eyes did.  Just stunning, as usual.

It was not a good night in these parts. I was awakened by fireworks at about midnight.  No, these weren’t authorized or city-sponsored.  It seems it was a large family gathering that pushed the envelope.  Very disturbing, sounded as if they were right next door, though they were around the corner and down the block. 

Evidently the home responsible is cause for concern by police more than a few times a season. In any case, I was not in a state conducive to sleep after that shake-a-wake call.  I did try getting back to sleep, but it was no good. The night and my sweet, relaxed mood had been shattered, maybe what we call an “altered state.” Sorry, I couldn’t resist.

When sirens wailed belatedly, I figured there had been an injury and an ambulance was summoned. Indeed, that was the case.

So, 2 a.m. found me preparing eggs and toast for breakfast while knocking back a huge cup of coffee.  Eventually, I had 2 of those large cups, but the caffeine didn’t take effect for hours. 

My original plan was to breakfast at the best place in town this morning, but having eaten a large meal so early, I thought it best to wait for another day. 

The Royal Treat has been here forever.  Owned and run by my sidekick Deb and her family.  It’s a multi-generational thing. Families come back year after year. No reservations, first come first served. (The tables on the screened front porch are always the first  to go.) Even the First Lady waited in line last summer for her bacon and eggs. (She was here with the girls for a weekend.  The prez wasn’t with them.)

If you’ve been to Rehoboth you probably already know the place.  Someone may have already introduced you the "treat". If not, make sure you put it on your list to visit when you do come to Rehoboth. It’s delicious, tradition, and well worth the wait for a table. 

The place is legendary for not only their breakfasts, but their homemade ice creams. Most of us locals love the place, but since most of us work all the time, it’s tough to get a break to enjoy a meal or sundae there except once or twice a season.

It’s probably best that I didn’t go today. A sunday is very busy with lots of big families in attendance. I guess I could surprise everyone by showing up tomorrow.  Now that I have the Handicap placard, parking close by won't be an issue. 

And so it goes.

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Observing the Fourth - Differently

I am not a big fan of 4th of July Celebrations.  I've had enough hot dogs and patriotic cupcakes to last a lifetime.  Since I worked most holidays it was more fun for me to enjoy watching others enjoy.  Of course, as with all American holidays, getting drunk is a major priority, while making an ass of oneself earns extra points and a likely trip to the ER following an enchanting “Hey, Watch This!” moment.  Yes, indeed.  Three Cheers for the Black & Blue, er' Red, White, and Blue.

Frankly, I prefer this…

to This…

Anyway...

In heavy downpours and high winds, on flooded roadways, I drove to the center for the injection this morning, then stopped by the drugstore to pick up yet another called-in prescription that I previously knew nothing about.  It is ever thus…

My clothes hang in the bathtub drip-drying as I type. Of course, I was soaked to the skin, and then some. Even the underwear took the hit. Yes, I know - TMI!!! I was freezing when I got in.  Rains have continued through mid-afternoon, and my bones are beginning to ache from the Neupogen. 

Observing people this week I've noticed there is a sort of pall over the beach communities this holiday. Not caused by the hurricane, which hasn't done any damage, but the sort of chronic fatigue of everyone - resident and tourist alike - and if today is any measure, most are anxious for the Summer to be over and out of the way. Seems to me they’re rushing the year, though.

I was out early enough that I picked up a few cleaning supplies, so I can run a few loads of laundry today or tomorrow - more likely tomorrow - and folks just seemed all party’d-out; none too happy to be here.  I could chalk it up to the frenzy leading up to the hurricane, but since it missed us I would think everyone would be grateful and ready for the beach tomorrow.  But that doesn’t appear to be the case. I could chalk it up to the rain and drizzly weather, but that’s not uncommon around here in summer.  No, this is different.  

My usually boisterous, heavy-smoking, Duck-Dynasty-loving neighbors are more subdued, even with a house full of visitors.  They’ve set up 3 huge beach umbrellas in the alley, each overlapping the others so they can sit outdoors in whatever weather and cookout, play games, annoy the other neighbors, you know, the usual. But there’s been no loud, obnoxious music or screaming.  Mostly just quiet conversation.  Even the kids are more indoors than out, doing God-knows-what, but quietly.

We’re at the halfway point and it’s all downhill from here.  A local store circular has Autumn decorations, gifts, and pumpkins on sale - yes, already. Even before the back-to-school shit hits the shelves, which ought to be any time now. 

And now, just to be annoying,  I have broken my 30 year old can opener (I didn’t know they could break!) and will have to purchase another. Maybe it was old age (grin). Have to find one first.  Nothing electric, just a plain reliable smooth edge can opener.  I hate having to go out again, but I’ll need it sometime over the weekend, I am sure.

I’ll wait to see if the rains slack off, and if not, I’ll shop around tomorrow after the morning injection. The fact that the blood count continues to drop, and I’ve required 3 consecutive Neupogen injections 2 weeks in a row, has me concerned about what may come next.  

Anyway, the hifalutin surgeon at Christiana Medical Center told me last year that without benefit of a marrow transplant I had about 2 years of infusions before the old body couldn’t take it anymore and shut down.

Whatever the case, it is what it is.

 Right now I am about to marinate a pork loin roast in olive oil, rosemary, and garlic for my supper this afternoon/evening.  It will be accompanied by fingerling potatoes and brussel sprouts.

The sky is beginning to lighten up, so I may make a valiant effort to find a new can opener today, after all. Then again…

And so it goes.

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Holiday and Hurricane Cometh

In no particular order...

The REAL Weather Channel.

Heavy rains overnight (nothing to do with Arthur) caused local flooding and kept the humidity high; off the charts and making it hard to breathe.  The sun came out briefly, but made it even worse. 

Had a Labs appointment at 7 a.m. this morning to check my numbers, in case I need fresh blood to hold me over for the holiday weekend, also endured prep testing for the Chemo routine beginning next Monday. Took longer than expected, but I didn’t need to be transfused - this time round. Yay! 

Although I don't feel compromised or ill, the white cell count is farther into the danger zone than anyone suspected. I am not to be in crowds or around small children (unless they’re properly cooked) and must wear the damned Isolation mask when I do venture out in public.  Oh, how I hate having to do that.

I will receive 3 more Neupogen injections this  weekend, however. Today through Saturday. Yes, it’s annoying, but it is what it is.  There’ve been many pricks in my life, but these are by far the easiest to deal with. Sorry.  I just couldn’t help myself with that one, it just made itself and fell out onto the page.

Tourists and Tempests Don’t Mix.  I think I read that somewhere before, and it's true... Where is the Whiskey Sour when you need one?

Mid-day shopping was a nightmare - especially with: 1.) the Independence Day holiday at hand, and 2.) the terror inflicted by the oncoming first hurricane of the season, Arthur.  There was panic in the aisles, car park, and street. Havoc reigns at the beach.  I left without making a purchase. What was I thinking?

What's coming is a Natural Storm, people.  Not Dick Cheney, or Godzilla!  If you’re so scared, why in Hell did you come to the beach, anyway?  OK, OK.  Now, the sky is dark gray to black and the winds are gusting to 35 mph, already. Not a good sign. Never mind.

My newly acquired patience appears to apply only to road rage and heavy traffic. A$$hole shoppers are not included - not yet, anyway. (I guess there is a whole lot more work ahead of me.) The loud rumblings in the sky did nothing to calm folks down.  

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

BTW, the Silver Queen was grand, had it til it came out of my ears (sorry!) so to speak.  Came across a great way to steam it in the microwave - husks-on. Super delicious and so easy. Corn comes out of the husks clean, and very hot!  I’ve got to see that man and his truck one more time.  

All finger food tonight: ribs, artichoke salad, and silver queen corn (2 ears left) are on the menu. Hey!  It’s something to look forward to, anyway.

The thunderstorms are beginning and I am glad to be home, out of all madness for the duration.  Nothing on my gay agenda until Monday when the Chemo treatments begin again, unless an evacuation order is issued. Which I doubt will happen at this late stage.

And so it goes.

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Arthur, Schmarthur. Just Go Away!

Tourist’s and Tempests Don’t Mix.

Rehoboth Beach is just east of Washington DC - on the Atlantic coast. We do not need a hurricane baring down on us on the Independence Day Weekend. 

Just to add my two-cents (plain), here’s to Le Morte d’Arthur.

Update HERE at the NHC.

More later.

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Zen and the Art of Picking Silver Queen

(Not being a silver quean.  It’s a type of white corn.)

The quiet drive to Lewes Beach this hot, (84’F at 6 a.m.) muggy morning at sunrise got my day off right.  Taking pictures of the deserted beach, bay, and surrounding areas. It was refreshing to be the only person within a half mile of the place. Although there were parked cars in the lot, their occupants were nowhere to be seen.

As I sat on a bench facing the sunrise on the bay, I thought about cooking and what dishes I’d like to make for upcoming lunches and suppers.  That brought my thoughts to the Utility/Knife drawer. Don’t ask.

Cleaning out the utility/knife drawer took up most of the rest of the morning. I figured if the utensil or knife hadn’t been used in a year or more, it was time to chuck it.  I have removed the cleavers (Chinese & French), poultry shears, 3 very large chef’s knives (I’ll never use a 12” blade again, that ship has sailed) and pared down the number of paring knives accumulated over the years. 

I discovered I could use 5 or 6 inch Chef and Utility blades - more workable in my tiny kitchen space - and a sharpening stone (lost my grandfather’s stone in the settlement). Two of my best are not terribly sharp though they hold an edge well. So, all these items are in a box to go out - somewhere -  and I’ll be keeping an eye open for new replacements.  Good ones. I’ve had good luck at local Thrift Stores and a few are closing soon, so I’ll check out their stock.

Meanwhile…Transferring, editing images off the stick to the hard drive became next on the to-do list.  It’s way too hot and humid to even attempt anything outdoors, so this was just the right chore at the right time. This also means more old images to post for unsuspecting visitors on Throwback Thursdays.  Heh-heh, yeah, right.

At peace: Finally, having to drive in summer traffic I’m learning patience with

the crazies on the roads.  I mean, there are things that have to be done and not on my preferred time-of-day.  Not coping really, just dealing with it all. Adjusting and finding ways around potential bottlenecks and problem areas.  Not so hard to do, if I just keep cool and take my time.

I clocked the actual time waiting to get into traffic at a stop sign on the Coastal Highway - a spot where everyone gets anxious and complains about it. The reality was a little over 1 minute before there was a break in traffic due to a red light up the road. It just SEEMS like forever, and man, does it ever. Still, I’m learning and seem to be doing well, considering. 

I’ve sought alternative routes, too. They’re not most convenient, but beat sitting in bumper to bumper exhaust fumes by a long shot. Truth is, because of one such detour, I found a local farm truck on the side of the road selling fresh picked corn-on-the-cob today. It’s Silver Queen, still coated with the morning dew, and I will enjoy it with supper tonight.  See, there’s an upside if we just back off and let the chaos flow around us as we stay focussed on our own goal.  Jeez!  I sound positively New Age, don’t I?

Thing is, I have to be out in the chaos anyway; there’s no way out of that, so I’ll make the best of it rather than fight it and get all stressed out.  Stress is not our friend. 

Wok Stir-Fry supper.  Pork and peppers, onions, snow peas, and garlic.  With sticky rice and Silver Queen corn, of course.

And so it goes.

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A Lunch, A Flight, A New Reality

Was at the Center at 7:30 yesterday morning hoping to get blood work done via the port, but it wasn’t meant to be.  Access was made through veins in the arm, much to everyone’s dismay. It had to be done. Maybe by Thursday things will be better.

Due to the recent parking problems and missed appointments I received an approved application for a Handicap Parking Placard for the car. I was surprised and shocked that I would even be eligible for one of the things. This reality (my new disability) is taking a long time to sink in. I can’t help feeling ashamed that I should have to use one. 

I know, I know. I need to get over that. This is my present and probable future.  Like it, or not.  I drove out to the DMV and picked it up. I drove back to the beach staring at the thing on the seat beside me feeling very depressed. At least I won’t have trouble parking at medical facilities anymore.

Then friend Jeffery sent a text yesterday afternoon (co-worker and friend; drove me to and from hospital for the port surgery in April) suggesting we meet for lunch today.  His one weekly day off during the season.  I was flattered that he’d want to share part of the precious day in my company, so I immediately said, “yes!” 

The Pork Flatliner! Any questions?

Of course, dining in town was out of the question with crowds and parking at a premium, so we opted for the sister of one of the restaurants outside of town.  This one is on the Coastal Highway and, unlike her in-town sibling, open for lunch every day. 

Rather than having him fight traffic in town to pick me up, we decided to meet at the restaurant, which turned out to be best for both of us. 

The place was busy.  Seems other locals had the same idea because we ran into quite a few folks we know from town who were either at the bar, or in the dining room enjoying a non-frazzled lunch break. And, of course, the 2 flat screen TV sets were tuned to the World Cup and the bar was rocking. Who’da thunk it?

It was great fun. Jeffrey and I caught up on our news and his recent eastern European holiday.  Aside from my riveting medical experiences there was little for me to share, so he did most of the talking.  That was fine with me. 

Lunch was a fine time, too. We each tried new items on the menu - time to move out of the comfort zone for a day - and each enjoyed a “flight” of 3 new micro-brews along with it; in three 4 oz. glasses.  Why not go whole hog with the new stuff, I always say.  Well, I do. 

We munched, laughed, rattled, and hummed for 2 hours. Time went quickly, it felt like a half hour. Fortunately, the staff know we’re restaurant folks, too, taking a summer breather, so while attentive, they didn’t bother us.

We parted as he made his way to meet other friends to watch the USA vs Belgium match this afternoon.  Mercy! The World Cup fever has invaded the gay community of Rehoboth Beach and things may never be the same.  Still, I like this football much better than the American version, so I guess it’s a win-win all round.

Jeffrey wanted me to join the group (mostly co-workers from Dos Locos) but my energy isn’t very high and I have to be careful in large groups and crowds, so I begged off.  It would have been a festive, gay old adventure any other time…but not until I’m well, again. Still, it was good company, took my mind off that damned Handicap placard, and a chance to get out of the house again. Any port in a storm, I always say…

And so it goes.

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Rainbow Ending for Toronto Pride Day

Mother Nature sure knows how to end a party! Rainbow over Toronto on Pride evening after a day of rains & drizzle.

Seen from the Gay Village.

Can't believe almost the whole thing is captured in this one shot.

Wonder what crazy Unca Pat Robertson will have to say about this on his TeeVee Show?

More later.
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As Luck - and Tourists - Would Have It…

A lone daylily struggling to survive amidst seagrass.

The Ultrasound appointment never happened. Couldn’t find a single parking place at the hospital - lots of handicap and reserved parking for physicians and police though - having driven around for 40 minutes in the 95’ heat being followed everywhere by other vehicles in search of the same thing. The appointment coincided with Visiting Hours, so that may have been the major issue.  When I realized I was already 15 minutes late I gave up, disgusted, called the Center to report the situation and drove home for a good cold shower. 

I’ve been knocking back Benadryl on my own and the swelling has subsided quite a bit, plus my boardwalk strolls seem to help too. Still, staying in bed with the leg elevated while reading seems to be the best of all possible things, at least until they can schedule another ultrasound. 

In other boring medical news…The surgeon cancelled Thursday’s appointment to remove the stitches from the port-a-cath repair.  It has been rescheduled for Monday morning.  When I removed the most recent dressing however, the site doesn’t look promising. Again, the rim of the port is visible under the skin and I don’t think that’s as it should be.  I’ve got a feeling she will have to remove the device, let it heal and maybe (I said, Maybe) try the surgery again. As luck would have it, I may not have to make that decision.

Weather has been pretty crappy these last few days and we all know that such things tend to piss off the tourists. On top of that, I hear the crazies are arriving early this season, more demanding than ever. Still, I wish I was working at the restaurant.  I miss all the fuss and frolic that plays out during the season.

I  walk on the boards and “make groceries”** as early in the morning as possible, so the hard-core grumps are still asleep, or sleeping it off.  Yes, I hear the booze consumption is way up this year, too. Seems there ain’t nobody happy this summer season, and it’s just formally begun today. Not that anyone cares.

I’m also seeing a lot more bumper stickers that read, “Don’t Hassle Me, I’m Local” "Turn Off the F**king Phone" and the most popular, “If It’s Tourist Season, Why Can’t We Shoot Them?”…neither go over well with obnoxious visitors anytime, but this year, especially.

Me?  I stay out of the way; away from crowds, large families with small children, and heavy traffic unless I absolutely must drive in it.

Meanwhile, I am not supposed to drink liquor, but my friend’s 90+ year-old mother is visiting from New York this weekend, and she makes the meanest whiskey sour on earth. She would also shoot my ass if I didn’t have one with her as we chat for an hour or two.  She’s a delightful piece of work and I love her dearly.  She (and the whiskey sour) may be just what the doctor didn’t order as a cure for my immediate depression.  Hey!  Couldn’t hurt!

**An old New Orleans-ism for grocery shopping.

And so it goes.

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New York World’s Fair - I've Got Proof

A while back I posted a piece about reading “Tomorrow-Land: The 1964-65 World’s Fair and the Transformation of America”.  In that post I reminisced  about working at that very same World’s Fair and the fun to be had for those of us lucky enough to do so.

I’ve received a number of comments from disbelievers suggesting that I’m not old enough to have worked at that Fair.  Well, let’s put that puppy to bed right now, shall we.

 

Above is the employee ID card for the 1965 season.  (Click to embiggen.) This one survived because after the 1964 card disintegrated, I had this one laminated.  One of the few smart things I did during that period.  Oh, and yes, the photos were taken using one of those photo booths like those in Penny Arcades back in the day.  This was 1965, the dark ages of this sort of technology. Mr. Moses did everything on the cheap.

Unfortunately, none of my original photos from that era survive.  They were lost in the settlement of my previous life and never returned to me. But, I have my memories and this physical reminder.

And speaking of photos, I’ll get the slide copies off the old Windows machine today.  I scanned them into the PC over a year ago, and then the PC up and died.  I’ve waited for 9 months for a co-worker to retrieve them.  He remembered when he got back from Romania 2 weeks ago and finally did the deed.

There are few shots of myself - but I’ll post them anyway. I like to think of them as a part of my history.  Others may simply point and laugh.  Hey! Whatever works.

And so it goes.

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Random Thoughts and Goings On

Well, it’s over…for now. The last Chemo treatment was administered
yesterday; while trumpets were not physically in evidence, they were certainly blaring loud and clear in my head. No more puncturing (except for blood) for the coming 3 weeks before phase 2 starts it all over again. I am nothing but a mass of puncture wounds, red welts, and bruises.  Truly a sight to behold.  Or not.

Another patient receiving Vidaza treatments shared a relatively unknown aid for the unsightly skin wound side effects.  He uses Evening Primrose Oil which, he insists takes the sting, red, and swelling away in a matter of days. It also relieves the burning and itching which usually begin a few days after treatment.  Needless to say, the Health/Natural Foods Store is on my Gay Agenda today, as well.

Took a sweet walk around town this morning before breaking my fast, and though it was already hot (82’ at 6:30) there was a nice breeze and the air smelled of the ocean. A brief walk on the boardwalk was followed by a mosey around the south end of town where few cyclists ride and even fewer folks stroll. (The above image is at Silver Lake and yes, those are ducks, gulls, and cormorants resting after their own breakfast from the lake.)

I’ve developed some soreness and swelling in my ankles so an ultrasound is waiting in the wings today to be certain there is no clotting.  A real danger with this brand of Chemo, so they’re taking no chances. Personally, I think I’m not walking enough; not getting the blood pumping through the system.  Just lying in bed reading, isn’t cutting it.

Aside from new bone marrow and a fully-functioning body, there is nothing that I need, but I finally decided what to buy with that Amazon Gift Card: a new cotton blanket (not heavy wool), the Mac  version of Print Shop Deluxe,

(unfortunately, there is no Mac version of Paint Shop Pro I’ve used for years, and I wanted a photo editor), and a case of coffee pods for the Senseo.  No one sells them around here anymore, it’s order from Amazon, or the Netherlands.  Stores in these parts (and I suspect most everywhere else) sell only those silly, wasteful K-cups for the worst machines and even worse tasting coffee. Expensive coffee and the machines are unreliable.  So there!

Placed the order this morning with arrival scheduled for next Monday or Tuesday. And there is still a little credit left over for a couple of Kindle books I’ve had my eye on when I finish what I’m reading now.

I’m off like a herd of turtles to the hospital for the Ultrasound appointment, then it’s home for the rest of the day.  What a surprise! Yay, for me!!!

And so it goes.

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