Saturday, August 29, 2009

Saturday Change Of Plans

We decided this weekend that we’d turn Mommy loose for that antiquing day (you know, the one she didn’t get due to the fish) and the kids and I made big plans: breakfast out, walk around the the arboretum with Buddy, Chuck-E-Cheese…you know, big plans. Well, one down and two to go…maybe.

Once we got back from Magees Kim pointed out that the Volvo has a flat tire.

Great.  So I’m banging away at the keyboard while the kids moan about maybe not going to Chuck-E-Cheese as we wait for Triple A, and I tell them – its not you that suffers, it is Buddy not getting to go to the arboretum.  He’ll just have to do a regular around the neighborhood walk/bike ride.  Riding bikes? Not bad, but really, lets get down to it. We are still going to Chuck-E-Cheese, right?

Drive on that spare Dad, priorities. :-)

Posted by Jerry in 15:12:43 | Permalink | Comments Off

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Maybe I’m starting to get it?

I spent the past few days in Seattle; I attended a social media conference that a few years ago was fantastic.   This year, not so much.  I think the ‘what’s next’ for social media is unclear, and it is ill defined how to talk about the future.
It seemed most of the discussions were around the individual contributor and how he/she is impacting the Web in some sort of  ‘hyper’ format, and that impact was a wide ranging discussion from raising awareness of causes, to philanthropy, to trying to duplicate what I’ll call ‘virality’ of a the small Web site or personality.  I was hoping to hear and find best practices about what’s working to grow that awareness from a business point-of-view.  One of the viral discussion dived into a talk, literally, about how the numbers for a site jumped off the page when you record yourself farting naked on video.

Yea, this isn’t a strategy that we’ll be undertaking at the office.

So I think this proved a theory I’ve been swilling in my brain that we are at an inflection point that is moving beyond the emergence of social media. There really isn’t the fundamental need to listen to the self-made social media experts, regardless of genre anymore and how they are innovating – this is all now too well known and understood.  What’s now needed for the business community is a best practices on using these tools and applications to move all these small niche audiences.  The ‘how to’ is known but the measurement of moving the needle is less so, and can it be done holistically to improve aspects of a company’s brand or customer satisfaction?  A conference like that is where I now need to go to learn. The take away is I think, still, is I was lucky to be at this show to have this epiphany. You have to be in the moment to see the shift, don’t you? Of course, the shift is pretty clear when one of the presenters is discussing growing your passion about knitting online.

She has a huge following in a very small niche, and presenting in genres of knitting makes sense, but again, can she be juxtaposed with someone from a Fortune 1000 company using her strategy on a mass scale, and can that presenter match the knitter’s success? That’s what I was hoping to hear and discuss.

Ah well.  We have another show upcoming other employees are attending, maybe they’ll find a bit of what I’m seeking and report back on it.

While I was disappointed professionally, I was fulfilled personally, as I reconnected with a number of good friends from our years out in the Pacific Northwest.  I’ve seen these friends on and off over the past few years (as getting to Seattle is not an easy trip to regularly make) and I’ve met their kids, but most have not met mine (not since Demetrius was literally ‘months’ old), and none have had the pleasure of meeting Ms. Maya.  Last night I had dinner and I watched their kids run and play, and I watched my friends’ ‘parent’.  What a hoot.  It was a dramatic shift for me as I have been around them a lot since their pride-and-joys have entered the world.  That said, you see which child works which parent, and the tone of voice that is subtly used with the apple of one’s eye.  It’s fun to see that I’m not the only one wrapped by their child.

Even though we stay in touch, it is hard for me not to fall to the frame of mind that we are all still 29 years old, taking on the world, enthused about what’s next, and drinking wine until 1am.  That’s when we left, just after we turned 30 and Kim was expecting Super D.  So when I see these friends, this is often where they are in my mind’s eye.  And I know better, but is still a juxtaposition when the 40 year old discussions take place, talking about job security and fulfillment, time management between work and family, concerns about public versus private education, etc…  These little worries do hide behind the smiles, chuckles and gentle barbs in the catching up conversations.

I wouldn’t say anyone isn’t happy or disillusioned.  It is just so obvious that the definition of happy is different.  Mostly, a job is a job, the literal and figurative big trips in life have been taken at some level, and the next ones for each of us, lets face it, involve the little voices and their discoveries – but right now that big discovery probably needs to get to bed or he/she’ll be really grumpy tomorrow.  So we need to wrap up by 9:30 because we’ll be up at 6am.  So much for discussions over claret and pinot noir at 1am, eh? Another inflection point, no?
So I laid in bed in my hotel room, feeling the red wine that I drank a sip or two too many of, lining up a week of inflection points, I’m perplexed about the maturation of social media professionally and soaking in the maturation of my life and my friends lives personally – all in the course of a week.

Heavy stuff, then I said, “What the hell Jerry, you have a 6am flight, be deep some other time.” So I turned off and thought about what a great friggin’ movie Inglorious Basterds was.

Posted by Jerry in 21:38:21 | Permalink | Comments Off

Friday, August 21, 2009

The Nod

Your mom told you not to stare, right?  We tell Maya this, alot (in fact, a few years ago, at Whole Foods, we were behind a guy missing an arm, and we told her not to stare, and she got real confused and asked why not, because he doesn’t have an arm and he’s interesting to watch.  Interesting take on staring, no?).

However, when you have an autistic spectrum child, you recognize the small signs in others, right?  I figure this is very much fun for psychologists – that guy has OCD, she has four personalities, etc….

But this morning, I saw a Mom with her 13-14 year old daughter in a lobby of the hotel.  The daughter held tightly to her mother, stared up to the left, and held a little stuffed purple monkey in her hand.  The Mom was getting some coffee, while pouring she whispered to her daughter, and the girl smiled, and giggled, but she never looked down.  But when the seniors group collected and the ladies let out a big laugh before they got on their bus (and the laughter reverberated loudly in the atrium/lobby), she squeezed her monkey and the mom whispered to her quickly.

The mom and I caught each others eyes. I nodded in the best way I possibly could that I knew what was going on with her daughter.  She understood.  Brief smile.  The nod back.

Insiders Nod?  I think so.  The signs are subtle that her daughter has autism, and its not obvious to others, but we had the parents who know moment, the nod…

Anyone else experience this?  With the severe cases it is easily detectible, no? But for the rest, you give the nod that I get it and I get the small things. I get the small monkey and the stare off to the left.

Do you?

Posted by Jerry in 18:43:21 | Permalink | Comments (1) »

Thursday, August 20, 2009

In trouble cuz of the Fed Ex Lady

Yea, thought that headline might get your attention, for all the bad joke reasons. :-)

Kim tells me on the phone this morning that she was going to have a few hours of ‘Kim time today’ to explore Lexington before she’s got to go and get into car pool line to pick up the wee-ones.  As she pulls out, the FedEx lady pulls up.  Big box from Seattle. Perishable.  39 lbs of salmon. Kim tells her to leave it on the step. The lady tells her that this says its perishable, she can’t and Kim signs for it.

She opens it and finds the treausre.  Tens of lbs. of wild white king salmon.  Fileted in easily grillable filets? Of course not.  Large filets she must cut up and bag and freeze.

So long to the afternoon to yourself, Kim.  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for universes to collide here, but irony in life can be funny.

At least Buddy is going to really, really, really love to be around you the next few hours.

Posted by Jerry in 18:54:41 | Permalink | Comments Off

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

So What’s It Like?

When the boy was diagnosed seven years ago, I used to offer up to everyone as much as I could about him, autism, and us.  This vein of thought, of course, led to this blog (along with what the marketing team at calls, the ‘itch to write).  I didn’t lead conversations with, “let me tell you about our autistic son.” But I didn’t hold back either.
It isn’t that I hold back or have changed my tune about the sharing of info, in fact, I suspect and hope, as all of us make this journey and have more experience, its just not that defining a factor in conversation.
If you get to know me, over time, you are just going to know. Its as much a part of me as my love handles, dashing looks, witty personality, 26-inch inseam, moxie and machismo.    I find that as I look over my blog postings the last year or so, they are becoming less emotional.  I don’t feel the need to spill out over the rim of the cup with words expressing my frustrations or misfortunes as I used to.  Its not that it is smooth sailing in front of us by any sense, it is just that I’ve come to expect the choppy waters.

But now that I’ve been in the new town for the better part of nine months (making that turn into a year now), and we’ve gotten to know a few folks (me both personally and professionally), and I’ve gotten the almost whisper question by a handful – they ask so seriously and quietly, as if the question will be seen as bad manners or I’m going to get up out of my chair and get my keys and drive off “What’s it like?”

Hmmm, an excellent question that can’t be answered simply, or without a nice glass of Pinot Grigio or Cabernet Franc!  But it can be written, I suspect, more easily.

What’s it like?

Liberating, because as I’ve said, I know exactly what my last thoughts will be on my deathbed, “Is he cared for, and did we give him a good life?”  Such epiphanies will set you on a certain path to make certain choices. As we look back at the short time we were here, I’ll look back at only few things, overwhelmingly.

It’s like Super Glue for me.  Once you get that special needs diagnosis with a child, it is stuck to you. It isn’t going away.  I suspect this is the same realization families fighting cancer and other diseases and afflictions have.  It is here, with you, and you either deal with it, with you when you look left or right or you try to pull it off, and it doesn’t go away.

Humbling.  I am no way in control or master of my universe.  His bad days and his ticks, like chewing through a tee shirt or squealing at the top of his lungs, TV talk, the whole enchilada, reminds me of the randomness of life.  It is human nature to try to control our environment, and some of us do it better than others, but to know that at the end of the day, ‘this’ has happened, well, keeps you grounded.  The highs aren’t too high anymore and the lows aren’t too low.

Lonely. God, at times is it lonely.  Watch some other boys play soccer and you ache to see Demetrius do the same and interact in a certain way with his peers, to experience what others are experiencing…and you just feel very alone.  Or when he just wants to turn off and decompress and turns off from you.  The TV talk can be deafening.  This is less an issue each passing day, but it is still there.

Tiring.  The cycle of maturation trickles rather than flows.  Here’s the explanation of what I mean: remember when you took your toddler-five year old to the park. You had to watch everything, you couldn’t not pay attention.  High alert at all times.  As your child matures much of this just naturally ‘dissipates’ through lessons and swats on the butt. Look both ways when crossing the street, don’t wander off following whatever catches your eye. Ask if you can leave one playground to go over to another (some kids catch on quicker than others).  With Demetrius, we still have to hover like over anxious type A new parents at the city park for the first time.  Thus, why I can legitimately say that I’ve never been more mentally tired than when we came back from Disney World (that and the weather and the fact that I was the family pack mule).  Will we ever outgrow this? I don’t know.  But I suspect we’ll be too old to go play at the park before we actually do.

Lower bullshit tolerance.  I think this one is pretty much self-evident.  Get over your &#(@&@ self.  Once you have kids it stops being about you any way.  Add the special needs issues all over it and you’ve got to tell yourself at times, “His or her worries are just as important to him/her as yours are to you in regards to Demetrius.”  That’s the first free pass.  After that, solve your problem and quit bitching about it.

Living in the moment.  As much as tiring is an issue, you do live much more in the moment.  Note my posting on diving into the pool from the high dive last week.  Look what he did.  Now just don’t do it again or you are going to give your mother a heart attack, boy.  See also, humbling above. You gotta plan for some things, and you gotta let other things (mostly things tied to your personal ego), go.

Rereading this, I can accurately say it hasn’t improved my patience or tolerance for stupid mistakes. But hey, even if I can identify a few things insightfully, I’m still human and have character flaws.

Maybe this is just a realization at 40 I am who I am, but maybe this too, is something I can attribute to autism. It’s made me better in a lot ways. Or, at least, made me aware of a few things.

Posted by Jerry in 17:56:10 | Permalink | Comments (1) »

Thursday, August 13, 2009


As Grandpa so aptly put it on the phone yesterday, you could have cut the nervous energy in the house with a knife the past few days.
Why? Well, we started school this morning.  New school. New teachers. New kids.  New fears and concerns.

Maya, will any girls like me? Will I make friends? Will I be the lonliest child in the history of lonely children? (Yes, quite dramatic, but we are good at that.)

Kim, IEP, IEP, IEP…what do the teachers need to know that I haven’t told them? What if…fill in the blank.

Demetrius? Well nothing really from him.

Me? Shit, I just wanted to stay out of trouble with Kim and Maya, mostly. But I was nervous if it wasn’t going to go well, what the ‘spillage’ might look like with the Grassos and the school.

So I bought some special ice cream, cherry pie, and other comfort foods to help…but that’s enjoyed, and then the worrying sets back in.

This morning, after I ran the dog, Kim popped out of bed at 5:45, very determined and very worried.  Maya popped up not long thereafter, chatting non-stop. Nervous chatting.  Filling the quiet space, and quiet space allows concerns and worries to crop into it….

Demetrius came downstairs with a comic book, singing a song from Willy Wonka.
As we got ready to leave for school, Super D turned to me and said, “Daddy, you don’t need to come, I’m fine.”

Okay, to not ruffle feathers, I stayed home. Gave some kisses and hugs, and the van pulled out of the driveway.

Surprisingly, Kim was home soon after? They kicked her out already? ☺ No, in fact, when Demetrius got to his classroom he turned to his Mom and said, “Mom, you can go now. I am fine.” And waltzed right into 3rd grade.  Maya was a bit more complicated…a bit.

So that nervous energy has floated out of the house….

Hopefully not to return any time soon.

Hope your first days were as uneventful as ours.

BTW – had dinner at restaurant called AP Roots tonight, very tasty.  D had two plates of French fries, so clearly school did not affect his appetite….

Posted by Jerry in 02:10:11 | Permalink | Comments (2)

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

The High Dive

I took roughly a week off from blogging, tweeting (and during it a huge DDoS attack) and a smack of FBooking, but really man cannot live online. And if he does, well, he probably will live literally alone.

It is also the last few days of summer break for the kids, so we’ve gone for ice cream after work, wrestled some, took Buddy for walks…and I went to Boston for a few days for the job, which was warmer than Lexington (weird summer).  I enjoy that city.  There is nothing in particular about Boston I could tell you I love specifically, I just like the vibe from Copley Square, to Cambridge, to even out towards Framingham, etc…I just like it.  I’ll probably never live there (the only area of the country we have yet to live in is the Northeast), but I like to visit.  (Sorry Katherine Rooks!  Booked from sun up till sun down or I would have called and/or visited…)

One of the fun things I had not yet done in Lexington was go to the ‘Pirate Pool’ at Woodland Park.  We spent a few hours there on Sunday afternoon.  As we were wrapping up, Kim told the kids to go off the low diving board and do a dive.  But what fun is that? With Mom and Dad picking up towels and the like, why not head over to the high dive, which is much more fun!  And since one of us is literal, “Mom told me to do two more dives”…well, we walk to the edge of the board, put our hands together over our head, lean forward….

At this moment, Kim and I fall immediately into stereotypes.  Kim, covers her mouth and then yells, “Demetrius just jump!”  I stand up and say at the same time, like Rob Schneider in the Waterboy, “You can do it, D!”  Since our voices combine to make even more white noise at a public pool on a 90 degree day at a public pool, he dives in.  I kind of give the out of shape dad jump at him doing it, and Kim ages at least another year, immediately.  He swims over and gets a few high fives from Dad, and I shuffle him to his Momma Gorilla, cuz ain’t no way she’s going to let him jump again. Once was enough for her.

But not to be outdone is his always aware, always watching and listening little sister on the ladder behind him.  “Daddy, watch me!”

Now, one to thing to know about Maya.  Like many kids, rough and tumble about many things, and completely chicken about others.  Like her dad, Maya is completely scared of heights (and spiders).  She goes to the edge, hands over head…and she looks down.  That is a long way to go head first.  She looks up, gets a bit of a panicked look, and just jumps.  I meet her at the ladder on the side.

“Dad, I’m little, I got scared” (when we chicken out, sometimes the ‘I’m still little’ excuse card is played).  “Maya, how many other seven year olds are jumping off the high dive, do you think?” I ask.  “Some, but not many.”  “And how many are seven year old girls,” I follow up.  “A couple.”

She did the math, and became a bit more proud of herself…without taking another two years off the back end of her mother’s life.


A few more humorous moments from the weekend.

We went to get Demetrius his soccer cleats for his US Soccer TOPS Soccer league.  I acutally didn’t get him cleats, we got him Puma indoor soccer shoes. This way he can run around and not eat it on the cement, etc…he didn’t like cleats when he wore them before, and I don’t see the need to actually get him a pair. But I did want to get him a ‘real pair’ of soccer shoes, so we went to the Soccer Center (store) here in Lexington.  We got a sweet pair of Pumas (see photo).   A couple of interesting exchanges.  I showed Maya a pair of Adidas Copa Mundials, which were my preferred cleat when I played growing up.  She looked at them compared to the models with different colors (in fact many aren’t even black and white anymore).

“Daddy, they are old fashioned, your old shoes.”

“Maya, I prefer to think of them as classics.”  This point of differentiation was lost on her.  Nor did she really care, as the ‘girl’ helping Demetrius was more interesting, as she plays soccer in college!  Wow!

Demetrius let her know she smelled like french fries. She was eating lunch when we came in and the store smelled like McDonalds.  I’m not sure she recognized it as the compliment it was meant to be.

And if that exchange wasn’t enough, as we drove away we called Nonni and Grandpa to talk about soccer shoes (Grandpa loves this, of course) and Daddy’s ‘old fashioneds’.  Just after we hung up, Demetrius wanted to know if I still had my old cleats ‘in my closet’.

“No Demetrius, I don’t.”

“So they don’t give you ouchies (blisters)?” (This is a big worry for Demetrius, the last pair did, big time.)

“No Demetrius I didn’t get ouchies because they fit right, you have to tell me if your new shoes hurt, okay?”

Maya: “D!  Daddy didn’t get ouchies when he was a boy. He played soccer alot. Anyway, he was skinny then so he ran faster.”

So after I almost hit the car in front of me….

About two hours later Demetrius and I are at Valvoline getting the oil changed in the min-van, and he’s watching Attack of the Clones on the DVD player.  When the technician cuts the power:

“Hey, what the hell are you doing!?!”

I think we need to cut back on the PG-13 movies…..

Folks, gotta go get ready for work.  Have a great Tuesday and see those new kicks we got Super D below….

Demetrius' Sweet New Kicks

Posted by Jerry in 11:58:34 | Permalink | Comments (2)

Friday, July 10, 2009

Moving On

Most all of the time, while in the moment, you don‘t have the opportunity to reflect, or at the least, slow down, especially when the moment is raising a special needs child.
So right now Kim is sending emails, making phone calls, lurking and trolling local user groups, etc…to build the support system we’ll need for Demetrius, and I’m not even talking about in-school services.
How different it is than just signing up for gymnastics or soccer, or some other summer-bound activity that may lead Maya to more potential little girlfriends – no interviews at the pool to see if Maya and little Suzie are the ‘right fit’ for each other like Demetrius will have to go through with therapists and special needs pediatricians.

Beyond this, I’m also reflecting a bit about our last ‘big move’, from California to Atlanta in 2002.  Certainly a cascade of angst and fear, our discovery phase in evals and tests that the boy was autistic, and trying to figure out just what the hell this actually meant.  As I always write, it was a gray time, a move that seemed less than exciting or promising – not at all an adventure because of the situation.

So maybe, with this relocation, we are more in a ‘phase three’ – if phase one was what I wrote above and the learning and understanding of what the diagnosis would mean to and for us all, and how our days and lives would be shaped by it, and how it blended in to become…well, phase two may be the realization that autism is just part of our life, like the sun rising and setting and Maya’s non-stop chit chat.  Still hard and still making us peer around corners as we approach new moments in life, but nothing so gray as the last move.

So what could phase three be?  We know so much more about the boy and his habits, the ongoing give-and-take with remote control and DVD player passwords, what nervous ticks really mean for him (twirling of the hair when nervous or tired), TV talk from movies he liked when he was younger when he’s happy, etc…that he’ll actually talk with us now (still much prompting) – we also know he’s generally happy and nervous about going to a new school, no different than any other soon to be third grader who has relocated.

This leads me to think that phase three is much more about moving on? Could it be that we know that whatever is around that next corner, it won’t deaden us anymore? There will be low moments, but we know what that black hole looks and feels like, and we know that we’ll come up from it?  Moving on, maybe moving with speed?  We’ve had a few conversations about if I take to trip to NYC for work that we might take a trip in the City and see the Statue of Liberty…sure, we’ll go grayer (all those people on every side walk… aggressive cabbies!), but I don’t know if I could even contemplate doing this with Demetrius a couple of years ago, let alone consider it from a positive frame of mind first and foremost!  Moving from NYC to a conversation about hitting the mall in DC and doing the Smithsonian (might that be too much? Maybe, but not because of autism, but because how long can a 7 and 9 year old hang at a museum?!?).

Moving on.

I like this house, it seems brighter to me than the one in Atlanta.  When I walk in the door I don’t feel like I have to take deep breath of trepidation because we might be staring out the window and haven’t spoken to Mommy all day.  Coming home is an exhalation and someone running by with his Indiana Jones hat on asking me if I know where his whip is (Mommy has hidden it), or being told I need to change and I’m Darth Maul, and being instructed on how I need to die in a light saber battle.  Moving on.

We were lucky to live in Atlanta.  There is nowhere better in the world than the Marcus Institute and even if we have an absolutely great developmental pediatrician in the future – she or he won’t be ‘Dr. Amy’.  We have some great friends coming to see us soon, and we’ll be making many drives down 75 to see these friends in the future, no doubt. I miss them already.  The kids got along and we could spend hours and hours just sitting, watching TV and chatting.

But maybe for phase three to happen, we had to literally move on?  We’ve moved a lot in our marriage, professional gypsies, but maybe we needed the literal and figurative to happen for this to begin to take shape?

Who can say if Lexington will yield the friends Atlanta did? Lets check back re: school after next year to see if third grade was a success.  But right now I’m a place where it feels that we’ll be able to quickly move on if we hit a few bumps.

Oh, and for you long time readers of this blog, I’ve told you about what happens when I put my headphones on when I fly.  Somehow all the pain and frustration hits and leads to tears.  Some weird manifestation I’ve never figured out that wigs the shit out of the people in the seats next to, and around, me.  And those of you I’m closest to, I’ve promised not to blog about being out of town when Kim and the kids are home alone.

Well, by the time you guys read this, I’ll be back home from a trip to San Francisco.  I’m typing this over Colorado and the Rocky Mountains, I’m listening to the Cars, “It’s All I Can Do” from Candy-O, one of my all-time favorite albums.  No tears.

Moving on.

Yea, I guess we are moving on

Yea, I guess we are moving on

Posted by Jerry in 14:11:10 | Permalink | Comments Off

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Hi, I’m your new neighbor, dog fight?

Buddy and I were doing what Buddy and I do in the morning, walk around the block.

Now, we’ve been in the house about two weeks.  I’ve met a few neighbors, but not all my neighbors.  So, as Buddy and I are almost home, our neighbor to our right is out…I introduce myself….and her big ass dog attacks Buddy.

Clamping down as hard as possible on his neck.  Now, poor Buddy doesn’t have a bit of ‘fight’ in him, he’s scooting backwards into me as fast as possible.  This dog is trying to twist his neck (Buddy is too big, whew!), but the woman (my next door neighbor) is not strong enough to stop her dog, he’s pulling her every which direction he chooses to go, which is trying to be right on top of Buddy in a kill position, but I’m trying to get in front of him, but leashes are tangled and she’s trying not to fall.

I get him off Buddy’s neck but he bites into Buddy’s chest.  It is no use, she can’t control her dog, whack! I kick as hard as I possibly can. He releases, but as Buddy tries to scatter the dog takes a big ass bite out of Buddy’s rump.  Whack! A good kick to the chest and he goes back, Buddy and I go left and right into the house.  He’s a mess (scared) but at first I don’t see any blood, but he’s limping.

I tell Kim and my in-laws, but they think I’m weaving a bit of a Texas tall tale.  I go over to see if the neighbor is okay, but she’s really shook up.  It isn’t even her dog, it is her daughter’s who is in for the holiday….she chokes up, and tells me she can’t talk.

Fast forward a few hours. Blood on Buddy’s bed.  Trip to the vet, stitches in a couple of different areas from the fight. His chest and rump.  Bad limp will get better, big worry is infection from the other dog. A number of shots. Poor guy. His back leg hurts him too much to hop up on couch.  The agony!

Funny, my father-in-law and I go to a couple of bourbon distilleries.  My foot aches, I look down at my toes in my Chaco (right foot).  Fourth toe is purple, toe nail cracked in half, foot is swelling.


Did I tell you the neighbors are both doctors?  They find out about Buddy’s vet trip. They pay the bill. The woman is upset. I go by to their house. She’s okay I ask her husband? Yes. And your dog. He’s fine.  Thanks for paying the bill.  But, could you look at my toe, it really hurts.  How do you think you did it, she asks as her husband starts to look at it….well, um…..when I kicked the dog to get off my dog. She puts her head down. She walks out….

Long and short of it the husband’s (he’s a pediatrician) not sure its broken, but put a buddy bandage on it and come back in a couple of days. It is probably just jammed really bad (I’m thinking to myself – all you soccer players out there, see, another good reason/example why you don’t want to toe-poke the ball) , if not, it may be a hairline fracture.  She comes back and apologizes. We chit-chat for a minute…and the husband chuckles and says, “pleasure meeting you, better circumstances next time, I hope.”

I really can’t take anymore first time meetings like this, I’d rather be a recluse!  Neither can Buddy!

Posted by Jerry in 02:55:44 | Permalink | Comments (1) »

Friday, July 3, 2009


Most of the staff is out today, with tomorrow being the holiday for the 4th.  A few of us are working, and there is plenty to do…so hoping to not have to bring a ton of work home for the weekend.  To make sure I can achieve this goal, I got into work early (even for me, a 7:30am guy).

In front of my office, on the partition in front of a desk, sits a plate of four muffins (there are four of us planning to be in the office today).  They look very good, and I was hungry.

So I ate one (I hear Kim {one of the women I work with} rustling in office a few doors down). 

Banana chocolate chip.  Very nice!

Jerry: “Kim! Your muffins are very good, I liked it a lot.”

Kim: “I didn’t make muffins.”

Jerry: “Uhhh…there were four muffins on a plate outside of my office, I assumed you made them?”

Kim: “It is 7:00 in the morning, who would have put them out there?  Ewwwww.”

Yea, ewwwww.  Who put them there, and how long were they out…

Never, ever, assume about muffins in front of your office. That’s a general rule we should all follow, moving forward.

Tasted good though.  Could have been made with God-only-knows-what, but tasty.

Posted by Jerry in 16:37:25 | Permalink | Comments (1) »