Election Day...

 Here it is....the much anticipated "mid-term elections". I hope everyone reading this has voted, or will vote before the day is done. Debbie and I cast our ballots on the first day of early voting. That isn't a real screamer of a headline normally. We always vote but this election is so critical to our nation at this time. Our once great nation has fallen victim to special interest demands and evil schemes. I am not political. I have voted on both sides of the Parties in the past so I'm not pushing any specific agenda. However, if my simple little brain, housing a defunct computer chip shunt, can see what's happening in this country I'm sure it is, and has been obvious to all you smart people out there. 

I don't care how you vote. It's none of my business but if you don't care how things go and don't bother to vote, I will assume you have no children or grandchildren to worry about. Things appear to be swirling swiftly down the proverbial toilet bowl and I'm worried about the world we are leaving behind. Ours has not been a stellar generation and this election is one of the last in which we can feel that we really contributed to the future. Most of our heroes are gone now and we are the old people who should be spilling out vast wisdom to the younger generations. Sadly, we haven't shown much wisdom and the younger generations aren't listening anyway. There is no one to blame but the parents who raised these youngsters. That be us.

I tried and tried to write something humorous today but I just don't have it in me. We need to take the time to know the candidates and look beyond the rhetorical words to see who they really are. We need honest, wise, brave leaders. Party affiliations aside, we don't have that in Congress. My prayer is for that to change in Washington. 

Sorry for the seriousness. Like I said, I really tried to be humorous. Maybe tomorrow....

So That's Where You've Been...

Okay, I told Debbie I was posting a story today even if the creek does rise...which it won't at this time of year. I've had my coffee, read my Bible, pleaded with the Lord to take control of this mess, brushed my teeth, and found some soothing music to enjoy. All set....here goes..

My last post was in February, and I apologize for this, but it isn't my fault. I have a strict policy of never writing while I'm depressed. Those who've known me long and well understand this and also recognize how long a period of time can pass before the darkness goes away. Depression hasn't been my entire problem this time though. In April I decided to fall in my garage while sweeping sawdust. I hit my forehead on the corner of my work table and knocked myself out. I woke up after fifteen minutes (a fact relayed to me later) on my belly with my face pressed onto cold concrete. My first thought was, "Why in the world did I decide to take a nap on the garage floor?" I tried to get up but couldn't lift my head off the floor. I yelled for Debbie. She didn't hear me. I yelled "Help" and nothing. I yelled "Free chocolate" and no one came. I finally managed to reach my phone and called Deb. She came running and immediately called Cody, our neighbors Charley and Susan, 9-1-1, and the Salvation Army. All but those rascals at the Salvation Army came running. They told Debbie she would have to put me on the front porch and wait until one of their drivers was in the area.

I was in a bad way, enough so that I didn't argue when the paramedics insisted on carting me to the ER. In fact, I don't remember anything about the ambulance ride or my introduction to the ER staff. I also don't remember anything before hitting my head....it's a complete blank. I could have been pushed but a poltergeist would have had to do the pushing. I don't really think that happened. I just didn't know at the time why I fell. Of course I now know my balance issue and other problems weren't just my imagination. I spent three days in the hospital nursing a severe concussion, huge knot on my forehead, two black eyes, and a nice headache.

Well, that was supposed to be the whole story before I got started on my slap your knee funny story I was about to tell, but my sad tale didn't end there. I had to see a neurosurgeon who diagnosed me with Normal Pressure Hydrocephalus, or NPH. I know! I never heard of it either! And of course the doc, my wife, and both sons took this as serious information and insisted on more tests, more CT scans, more MRI's and more time in the hospital. It's been a tough six months since then, including enough CT's to cook bacon, hospital time, and brain surgery. Supposedly my problem was fixed when a hole was drilled into my brain and a shunt (formerly known as 'foreign object') was installed. It did work though. I didn't realize how bad I had gotten until it was fixed. I felt 25 years younger! Good old neurosurgeons! Can't beat 'em....but, and this is a big but...

...the shunt was set too high for removing the excess spinal fluid in my brain. After a few weeks of outstanding good health I went for a followup CT scan. That same day I got a call from the surgeon's PA asking how I was feeling...any dizziness....any headaches....numbness?? Nope, I felt great. The PA then said this was quite surprising. I needed to have someone drive me to the hospital immediately. Reservations had already been made and they were expecting me with needles, tubes, uncomfortable bed, and all the other stuff associated with hospital time. It turns out the shunt was removing the spinal fluid so fast two voids had been created in my brain. One 'ventricle' had shrunk and one had completely collapsed causing the brain to pull away from whatever the little protective sac around the brain is called. I was bleeding internally. Oh my goodness. That was a bit unsettling. Over the next several weeks I was placed on limited activities, which meant doing absolutely nothing but sitting. I had several more scans while adjustments were made unsuccessfully. I was still bleeding. Finally, they had to turn the shunt off. Actually, a shunt can't be turned off. The drain tube has to be crimped to block any more drainage. This involved an incision in my neck which is still hurting as I write.

After the shunt was turned off I slowly drifted back to my old self with my balance problem, dragging my left foot causing a shuffle no dance song will ever be written for, and a speech problem from vocal chords taking an extended medical leave. 

And this is where I've stayed for weeks. Debbie deserves a medal for all her help and support. She makes sure I try to stay as active as an immovable object can stay. She takes me to church as long as I stay close to her. She even takes me out to eat occasionally because my appetite is still perfectly healthy. Sadly, I can't remember the funny story I was going to tell. Sorry about that. It's completely gone from my defective brain. Memory loss is another fun symptom of NPH. I had forgotten to mention that earlier.

Oddly, I'm not depressed over this situation I find myself in. I'm perfectly content sitting and watching the  world go by. I know I will eventually be fixed again and life will go on. I still get to enjoy my family, especially those not so little grandkids. I enjoy reading and watching old movies. I just can't seem to remember too much about my earlier years right now. If I can't get those memories back I will get depressed eventually...but not today. Today all is good. I'm going to shuffle on in to the den, hug my wife, eat some lunch, and ...take a nap. I wasn't going to include the nap thing but Debbie will probably read this. Honesty is the best approach. Love to all!!

Mike Wouldn't Lie...

 I spent the first five years of my life living in River Oaks. If you don't know, River Oaks is next door neighbors with what used to be Carswell Air Force Base. Carswell AFB was next door neighbors to what was then called Convair, also known as the bomber factory. Carswell and Convair got along so well as neigbbors they shared landing strips. Bombers would take off for tests of the bomber itself for Convair and Carswell would have bombers take off to test the flight crews. They probably had cookouts too but we never got invited to them. 

I loved hearing and watching all the big planes, and some fighter jets, taking off every day and into the night. The spookiest sound from those big bruisers was the B36. The B36 had a mournful sound that vibrated all the way to the soul. The windows would rattle, the floors would shake, and some small children would scream in terror.....okay, I only screamed once when one went over our house late at night. I would have stayed scared had my dad not explained that it was just the sound of freedom. After that I loved to see and hear them. I guess if there is ever a trivia test in heaven and the question of "What was your favorite airplane during your childhood?", I will readily answer, "The B36".

My dad and my uncle OC (his parents were tired of naming children I guess) both worked at Convair. OC was my cousin, Mike's, dad. Mike was my best friend. I've talked about him before. Go back and read earlier stories. Mike knew a lot more about Convair than I did. OC was more involved in the day to day of the place and my dad was just learning how to be an electrician and electrical installer on the bombers. We were both proud of our dads. OC had several years more seniority than my dad because my dad had to go off and fight Koreans shortly after returning from fighting the Japanese. My dad didn't have anything against the people of Asia. He just made the mistake of staying in the Army Reserve after the war was over and uncle OC didn't. He was finally able to settle down to a factory job and ply his electrical skills...which were limited until he was trained.

Mike and I talked about bombers, fighters, and the mighty men who flew them all the time. Mike wound up working for Convair, aka General Dynamics, aka Lockheed his entire career. He was smarter than me then and still is. He got busy getting two degrees, one in math and the second in engineering. I got busy going to junior college and dating every pretty girl I came in contact with. I came out of it with an associate degree in mid-management, experience as an excellent Spades player, and wonderful memories. I didn't get busy with education until later in life. I still got my bachelor's degree in business early enough to make good money most of my career but that late start made a lot of difference in life.

I got off track...I do that occasionally. I think its due to....wait a minute, I'm getting off track again. As I said earlier Mike and I talked about our dads' jobs real often. Sometimes though we discussed other things...things like, how to build a better stink bomb by using doodle bugs as part of the recipe, who was the best TV cowboy, or who got more spankings by our dads the previous week. My dad was tough but I think Mike won that contest. I did complain that I couldn't figure out how my dad knew everything I did while he was at work. He got onto me all the time about climbing on the mailbox post. How did he know??!! Once while he was replacing another broken post I watched closely to see if he had installed some kind of device to monitor my actions. I never found a thing the next time I climbed up there to get the mail. I mentioned this to Mike once when we were comparing notes. He told he knew how our dad's knew everything because his dad had told him. It was evidently a common fact that Convair had a giant telescope where dads could spy on their little miscreants. Poor old uncle OC must have spent most of his workday on that telescope because he had three little boys and my dad just had two. I have to say two of OC's boys made Mike, my brother Glenn, and me look like saints most of the time but we still got our share of spankings. 

Once when I was spending the night with Mike we were playing on his swing set. I was trying for a new height record on the swing and didn't notice Mike had vanished. I realized it finally and started looking for him. Then I heard a whisper from under some bushes, "If you don't want to watch me get a whupping you better get under here with me. Daddy's home!" I don't have any idea what Mike had done that day but he did indeed get that whupping. I was scared til bedtime uncle OC was going to get me next.

I miss those simple days.