I'm humbled by how my almost-two-years-old son likes -- no loves -- to "pway."
"Deah Gahd...", he starts, always grinning, like he's just found the coolest thing in the world.
"Thank you for...", pregnant pause, quick smile, then "Mama!", he'll explode. And Dada, and food, and Pabo (Pablo from Nick Jr's The Backyardigans), Kitty Cat and whatever else floats in front of his consciousness.
He's been pwaying, er, praying a lot for Didi (my mom). Apparently, he (and innumerable others) is being heard.
Yesterday, the X-ray showed that the upper mass in her chest is gone. Not reduced, not receding, gone, baby, gone!. The other, larger mass is spotted, like an old rusty piece of metal. That means the chemo is eating it up.
She's feeling better, has more energy, etc.
Not bad at all, considering that the scalpel jockeys said that she would likely be dead by tomorrow. I love how the oncologist put it; "I don't see an expiration date on your big toe. Do you?"
Nope. Not a trace.
"Ay-men!"
In other news:
My two favorite bands are releasing albums this fall: Metallica and U2. Yeah, I know they couldn't be further apart in philosophy, style or lyrics. But if you want to get me in a nutshell, you'd need a pretty danged big nutshell. No wait. What I meant was, mash'em up and you pretty much have my core musical tastes and guitar-playing style. Which is probably why I like Queens of the Stone Age so much. They're about as close to a mash-up of Met and U2 as I've found.
In the meantime, I've been working on a very, very different musical project. It's a return to my first love of piano(!). I'm by no means an accomplished pianist. I play by ear. I'd probably be a lot more accomplished if I used my fingers like everyone else.
But really, it's painting with totally different colors than I've ever used. The nice thing is that I'm finally realizing a tune that I started on my mother's piano in 1989. I've tried so many times to eek this one out of my head, with no luck. This time it just flowed. Lyrics, structure, instrumentation, melody, everything. No one else may like it, but at least it freed up some of the clutter in my head. One down, 58,423 to go...
If I had to put an "it sounds like" on it, it would be in the vein of Keane, Coldplay and some U2. But with, ahem, a little more testicular fortitude than those previous bands typically display. (Well, maybe display wasn't the right word. But I'm having a ball re-reading it now... what a nut I am.)
The funny thing is that I don't feel like I've got a handle on a project until I can name it. Anyone else that way? Until it has a name, it's an amorphous, nebulous, marvelous pile of random I-don't-quite-know-what. Gots to gets a name on it, both as a "band" thing (I'm sure it's a holdover from my real-live-band days and my need to hide behind it) and as an album (or collection of songs or whatever we call it these days). Perhaps one will lead to the other.
I'm very seriously considering releasing this. I've had other recording projects on the burner for a couple of years, but this feels so different that I'm actually getting excited about music again. Kind of like coming home to see my family at the end of the long day. "Hey! People I know and like! Who're excited to see me! Yay!"
We'll see.
On another "I never thought I'd do this", I'm writing a couple of songs for my friend James Dunning, my doppelganger and the main songwriter in Lost Immigrants. History: JD and I ran more or less parallel lives throughout college. We played in a lot of the same bands, dated some of the same women (not at the same time), and later worked at the same jobs. Somewhere along the way, James and Craig Hinkle (one mean bass player, who also played in some of the same bands) both received a bonk on the head and started playing Texas country (more rock, sort of like old Skynard). Then they won the Shiner Bock Texas music contest (out of a million bands) and started recording. Wow.
Anyway, it's not the first thing I'd reach for (the music, not the beer. I actually kind of like that on certain occasions. Like Tuesdays. But I digress...), but I'm having fun writing in a totally different style. We'll see if he likes it enough to perform it.
Over and out.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Under Pressure
"Pressure, pushing down on me
Pressing down on you, no man ask for
Under pressure...
-- Queen and David Bowie, 1981
Man, my head is about to guh-splode off of my neck.
I believe that God infuses what I call a "divine discontent" when it is time to take another step. We thought we knew what that step was, until the door closed on it in a very frustrating manner.
Now I'm dealing with dwindling options and the prospect of another frustrating year at my current job/situation. The options I will consider place my family first. I'm concerned that the options before me don't do that.
I'm trying to be patient, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel. It's closing fast and there's a whistle a-blowin'.
In other news:
I finally heard something from the Navy.
More "hurry up and wait." Now my next selection board has been moved to bloody October (it was August). Man...
Over and out.
Pressing down on you, no man ask for
Under pressure...
-- Queen and David Bowie, 1981
Man, my head is about to guh-splode off of my neck.
I believe that God infuses what I call a "divine discontent" when it is time to take another step. We thought we knew what that step was, until the door closed on it in a very frustrating manner.
Now I'm dealing with dwindling options and the prospect of another frustrating year at my current job/situation. The options I will consider place my family first. I'm concerned that the options before me don't do that.
I'm trying to be patient, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel. It's closing fast and there's a whistle a-blowin'.
In other news:
I finally heard something from the Navy.
More "hurry up and wait." Now my next selection board has been moved to bloody October (it was August). Man...
Over and out.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Of A Personal Nature
It's been a strange ride for the past few weeks. A lot of out-of-left-field goings on. The most significant of them is my mother's diagnosis of terminal cancer.
Or maybe not.
A few months back, she went into the hospital with double pneumonia. After a few weeks of treatment, she went home. Tired, but charging on. About a week later, she was having difficulty breathing. Prognosis: fluid in the lungs. More treatment. More time passes.
A something was found in her chest. Doctors assume that it's infection remaining from the pneumonia. They remove a liter of fluid from her lungs. They check it for cancer. None found. One doctor proclaims "cancer" without ever doing a biopsy. A second opinion is sought. Or, a more scientific, informed first opinion.
More time passes. More fluid builds up. She's sent to a hospital in another town. A biopsy reveals that it is, indeed, cancer. Small-cell lung cancer. All throughout her abdomen and around a vertebrae. Prognosis: terminal. Three to four weeks.
What? Though tired, mom does not look like someone with less than a month to live. But family is called and family arrives.
One more visit. This time to an oncologist to see if chemo is even an option.
This doc has a different story. He believes that it may be a form of breast cancer and that one of the biopsies might have been tainted, giving the impression of lung cancer (she has no indicators for lung cancer -- no smoking, no second-hand smoke, no drugs, no alcohol, no strong chemicals, nada nada nada).
Chemo is ordered. Three drugs are given. The first nearly kills her via allergic reaction. She's stabilized. The more important second and third are taken like a pro. She's eating, getting strength back and in good spirits.
Prognosis? Hopeful. To quote mom: "We aren't out of the woods yet, but we're chopping down trees."
You have to love that attitude. Prayers are appreciated and requested. Let's see what God can do with the medicine in her system now. This has been hard, as we watched her brother waste away with cancer exactly one year ago.
I know that parents will be gone from this world all too soon, but the impact is still hard. The rational side and the emotional side of my personality are wrestling a lot these days. I feel a bit like it's all a strange dream. I feel for my father. She's been his anchor for decades, the tether that pulls the extremes of his personality back into friendly territory. I don't know what he'll do without her, if her time is near.
The upshot to all of this? If the time is near, at least we've had some warning; some notice to remind us to say the things we've needed to say and didn't make the time or find the courage.
I believe that there are only two other people in this world who's passing would impact me more.
In other news: I love my family. Good, bad, ugly, mean, awesome, caring, thoughtful, thoughtless... unique. We are them and they are us.
Sorry if this one's a bit personal.
Over and out.
Or maybe not.
A few months back, she went into the hospital with double pneumonia. After a few weeks of treatment, she went home. Tired, but charging on. About a week later, she was having difficulty breathing. Prognosis: fluid in the lungs. More treatment. More time passes.
A something was found in her chest. Doctors assume that it's infection remaining from the pneumonia. They remove a liter of fluid from her lungs. They check it for cancer. None found. One doctor proclaims "cancer" without ever doing a biopsy. A second opinion is sought. Or, a more scientific, informed first opinion.
More time passes. More fluid builds up. She's sent to a hospital in another town. A biopsy reveals that it is, indeed, cancer. Small-cell lung cancer. All throughout her abdomen and around a vertebrae. Prognosis: terminal. Three to four weeks.
What? Though tired, mom does not look like someone with less than a month to live. But family is called and family arrives.
One more visit. This time to an oncologist to see if chemo is even an option.
This doc has a different story. He believes that it may be a form of breast cancer and that one of the biopsies might have been tainted, giving the impression of lung cancer (she has no indicators for lung cancer -- no smoking, no second-hand smoke, no drugs, no alcohol, no strong chemicals, nada nada nada).
Chemo is ordered. Three drugs are given. The first nearly kills her via allergic reaction. She's stabilized. The more important second and third are taken like a pro. She's eating, getting strength back and in good spirits.
Prognosis? Hopeful. To quote mom: "We aren't out of the woods yet, but we're chopping down trees."
You have to love that attitude. Prayers are appreciated and requested. Let's see what God can do with the medicine in her system now. This has been hard, as we watched her brother waste away with cancer exactly one year ago.
I know that parents will be gone from this world all too soon, but the impact is still hard. The rational side and the emotional side of my personality are wrestling a lot these days. I feel a bit like it's all a strange dream. I feel for my father. She's been his anchor for decades, the tether that pulls the extremes of his personality back into friendly territory. I don't know what he'll do without her, if her time is near.
The upshot to all of this? If the time is near, at least we've had some warning; some notice to remind us to say the things we've needed to say and didn't make the time or find the courage.
I believe that there are only two other people in this world who's passing would impact me more.
In other news: I love my family. Good, bad, ugly, mean, awesome, caring, thoughtful, thoughtless... unique. We are them and they are us.
Sorry if this one's a bit personal.
Over and out.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Fun with Photoshop
I'm practicing a little avoidance behavior this morning. Well, actually, I'm waiting on a worker to arrive before starting the next project, so I have a few minutes to kill.
So, it's time for fun with Photoshop.
I've posted a few photos of my son, heavily altered, in past posts. I found a good one this morning that set the imagination running.
Here's the original:
The way he has his hands on the bowl in front of him, it reminded me of a steering wheel. With his "Fire Chief" hat, you'll see the easy leap to the next level.
I found this photo through Google. Clearly, I'm violating someones copyright, but since this isn't for profit and merely for "educational purposes," I'll take the chance that they won't come after me.
So, now I have my source materials. I cropped the photo of my son, then eliminated the other kid from the fire engine photo (just judicious use of cloning, for the most part), dragged the cropped version of my son into the fire truck, positioned, a little cloning to set it properly, a few burning and dodging tweaks and we have this:
No, it's not perfect, but for less than 30 minutes, it ain't bad.
I also posted this storm pic in my last post:
The exploding cell reminded me of a fist coming at me (look closely, you can even see "fingers"). So, why not "enhance" the image?
Found a fist on Google. Cleaned up the back ground, created a PSD like the other photo, resized, dragged into the original photo, set the opacity to taste and viola:
Again, not perfection, but for 10 minutes work, you get the idea.
In other news:
We still need prayer for my mom. They called it cancer (without a biopsy, I might add...) but now some new symptoms support that it's an infection. Either way, she's on a breathing machine for part of the day and in poor spirits. We just want someone to diagnose this nastiness, treat or remove it and let her get healthy.
Over and out.
So, it's time for fun with Photoshop.
I've posted a few photos of my son, heavily altered, in past posts. I found a good one this morning that set the imagination running.
Here's the original:
The way he has his hands on the bowl in front of him, it reminded me of a steering wheel. With his "Fire Chief" hat, you'll see the easy leap to the next level.
I found this photo through Google. Clearly, I'm violating someones copyright, but since this isn't for profit and merely for "educational purposes," I'll take the chance that they won't come after me.
So, now I have my source materials. I cropped the photo of my son, then eliminated the other kid from the fire engine photo (just judicious use of cloning, for the most part), dragged the cropped version of my son into the fire truck, positioned, a little cloning to set it properly, a few burning and dodging tweaks and we have this:
No, it's not perfect, but for less than 30 minutes, it ain't bad.
I also posted this storm pic in my last post:
The exploding cell reminded me of a fist coming at me (look closely, you can even see "fingers"). So, why not "enhance" the image?
Found a fist on Google. Cleaned up the back ground, created a PSD like the other photo, resized, dragged into the original photo, set the opacity to taste and viola:
Again, not perfection, but for 10 minutes work, you get the idea.
In other news:
We still need prayer for my mom. They called it cancer (without a biopsy, I might add...) but now some new symptoms support that it's an infection. Either way, she's on a breathing machine for part of the day and in poor spirits. We just want someone to diagnose this nastiness, treat or remove it and let her get healthy.
Over and out.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Formation Fifth
This post was originally going to be "Formation Friday," but I was lazy and missed it.
So, hence, etc...
I've been cleaning out the cell phone camera. I've found a few snaps of cloud formations that I've taken over the past two or three months.
I love storms. I used to chase them in college for the radio station I worked for and for the National Weather Service as a spotter (please ignore the awful sentence construction).
This one was taken as my son and I took a walk. He kept looking at them and saying "airplanes." Good imagination, that kid.
This one was taken from where I work, about 50 miles from the actual storm. Several strong rotational echoes were recorded, indicating tornadoes, but none were actually seen. Lots of wind damage, however.
This one is actually a tornado, categorized as an EF-3. It was one of two over the community I was in (about 30 miles from home). Even with my training, I still managed to be right in the path of this one. It was a tense hour and a half, as the weather behind the tornadic edge was intense. Lots of downed trees, power lines, etc. It usually takes me about 40 minutes to get from where I was to where I work. That night, it took about 90 minutes. Rough night. Lots of flooding too.
This one is just pretty. It was about 70 miles from where I was at the moment. I just like the scenery. :)
In other news:
Satan drives a Honda.
I sure hope that those aren't vanity plates...
Over and out.
So, hence, etc...
I've been cleaning out the cell phone camera. I've found a few snaps of cloud formations that I've taken over the past two or three months.
I love storms. I used to chase them in college for the radio station I worked for and for the National Weather Service as a spotter (please ignore the awful sentence construction).
This one was taken as my son and I took a walk. He kept looking at them and saying "airplanes." Good imagination, that kid.
This one was taken from where I work, about 50 miles from the actual storm. Several strong rotational echoes were recorded, indicating tornadoes, but none were actually seen. Lots of wind damage, however.
This one is actually a tornado, categorized as an EF-3. It was one of two over the community I was in (about 30 miles from home). Even with my training, I still managed to be right in the path of this one. It was a tense hour and a half, as the weather behind the tornadic edge was intense. Lots of downed trees, power lines, etc. It usually takes me about 40 minutes to get from where I was to where I work. That night, it took about 90 minutes. Rough night. Lots of flooding too.
This one is just pretty. It was about 70 miles from where I was at the moment. I just like the scenery. :)
In other news:
Satan drives a Honda.
I sure hope that those aren't vanity plates...
Over and out.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Form and Function Friday
Meet GINA, a concept vehicle from BMW. This is a fairly exciting idea, as it radically rethinks the roll of a vehicle's "skin."
This is not, however, a new idea. I'm reminded of the rigid dirigibles of the last century (the Zeppelin airships) and the everyday use of a folding, collapsible umbrella. But the new application of modern materials in this manner to a vehicle raises a number of other interesting ideas in my mind.
Could the use of OLED (organic light-emitting diodes) be woven in to the skin, creating a moving billboard? What about a new "look" for the vehicle any time you wanted? Fabrics that change color? Are bulletproof? Inflatable on impact?
I'm intrigued by the possibilities of a sudden loss of weight on the vehicle as well. What sort of fuel economy would be possible?
Very interesting concept for once. Naturally, it came from BMW. Those folks just ooze innovation with the personal vehicle.
In other news:
I'm still ga-ga over this one. Here's another, longer studio version:
Can you imagine what this idea would be like if you dropped it on the "street" with the folks who truly customize (I'm thinking hydraulics, etc.). Or what about NASCAR?
My idea? I'd love one that rapidly expanded, sort of like a puffer fish. That would be great fun during rush hour.
Note: I love the video creator's grammar... "blowed up..." sheesh.
Sheesh.
Over and out.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Wednesday, day of useless letters
"Wednesday." I really hate the word. It doesn't truly roll off the tongue as it should. "Wensday." How about that? Fewer letters. That would probably save millions in printing every year, just axing the extra "d" and "e".
Or how about calling it "midweek"? That works too.
Or what about calling it something totally different? Like "Bernie"? That would make conversation a lot more fun.
"When are you going to go home?"
"On Bernie."
Or, if we're really feeling irreverent, call it "Your Mom."
"What day are you going to go home?"
"Your Mom."
I could see that working very well. I'd love to hear that at the beginning of network newscasts, in the big, James-Earl-Jones-y voices, "The news, for Your Mom, June 25th, 2008."
That would be fantastic.
***
I either have a cold or super-massive-crazy allergies. I'm not sure which it is. It feels like a cold, but I started to get a migraine (loss of vision...) last night as if it were from crazy allergies. Fortunately, retreating to a dark room, followed by a very, very hot shower seems to have staved off the actual headache.
Or it could be both. That would double-suck.
***
I've been on a 90's music kick this week, finding songs I'd long forgotten. Right now, we just transitioned from Filter's "Hey Man Nice Shot" to Tripping Daisy's "I Got A Girl."
My head is totally in 1996 right now. Only 20 pounds heavier (me, not just my head). And more in debt. And married with a child. And avoiding my work.
***
I've been watching Mission Metallica as the band records their new album "Death Magnetic" (I'm not too enamored with the name, but realistically, I haven't liked any of their album titles.) and subsequent touring. It's been interesting to watch the band age -- not exactly gracefully, but interestingly. The new music sounds (so far...) like a updated return to their thrash glory days.
But since I'm on a 90's kick, I have to be the one guy who will still stand up for their body of work in that decade. Considering the implosion of hard rock and metal during that time, their more hard-rock, bluesy sound was a smart move. And it was good music. Even the last album "St. Anger" had 4 or 5 tracks that stand with their best stuff.
Love it or don't. There's always Coldplay for the rest of you.
***
Speaking of virtually nothing in common, my wife (we have a lot in common, just not this abrupt change of musical styles) downloaded some Rich Mullins songs a few days back. Man, I love that guy's music. I'm still disappointed he was killed in a car wreck. Guess God wanted a command performance. Can't blame him for that...
***
There's a lot going on I would love to go into here, but that's just not appropriate... Let's just leave it at "work is a four-letter word."
***
In other news:
Answered prayers: No colon cancer for Mom. But they did drain more than a LITER of dark fluid from the mass in her chest. So far, no cancer cells detected in the fluid (they don't know what it is... it's not good, that's for sure). Now they'll do a biopsy on the mass to see if it is cancer or a wicked infection.
More prayers, please.
Over and out.
Or how about calling it "midweek"? That works too.
Or what about calling it something totally different? Like "Bernie"? That would make conversation a lot more fun.
"When are you going to go home?"
"On Bernie."
Or, if we're really feeling irreverent, call it "Your Mom."
"What day are you going to go home?"
"Your Mom."
I could see that working very well. I'd love to hear that at the beginning of network newscasts, in the big, James-Earl-Jones-y voices, "The news, for Your Mom, June 25th, 2008."
That would be fantastic.
I either have a cold or super-massive-crazy allergies. I'm not sure which it is. It feels like a cold, but I started to get a migraine (loss of vision...) last night as if it were from crazy allergies. Fortunately, retreating to a dark room, followed by a very, very hot shower seems to have staved off the actual headache.
Or it could be both. That would double-suck.
I've been on a 90's music kick this week, finding songs I'd long forgotten. Right now, we just transitioned from Filter's "Hey Man Nice Shot" to Tripping Daisy's "I Got A Girl."
My head is totally in 1996 right now. Only 20 pounds heavier (me, not just my head). And more in debt. And married with a child. And avoiding my work.
I've been watching Mission Metallica as the band records their new album "Death Magnetic" (I'm not too enamored with the name, but realistically, I haven't liked any of their album titles.) and subsequent touring. It's been interesting to watch the band age -- not exactly gracefully, but interestingly. The new music sounds (so far...) like a updated return to their thrash glory days.
But since I'm on a 90's kick, I have to be the one guy who will still stand up for their body of work in that decade. Considering the implosion of hard rock and metal during that time, their more hard-rock, bluesy sound was a smart move. And it was good music. Even the last album "St. Anger" had 4 or 5 tracks that stand with their best stuff.
Love it or don't. There's always Coldplay for the rest of you.
Speaking of virtually nothing in common, my wife (we have a lot in common, just not this abrupt change of musical styles) downloaded some Rich Mullins songs a few days back. Man, I love that guy's music. I'm still disappointed he was killed in a car wreck. Guess God wanted a command performance. Can't blame him for that...
There's a lot going on I would love to go into here, but that's just not appropriate... Let's just leave it at "work is a four-letter word."
In other news:
Answered prayers: No colon cancer for Mom. But they did drain more than a LITER of dark fluid from the mass in her chest. So far, no cancer cells detected in the fluid (they don't know what it is... it's not good, that's for sure). Now they'll do a biopsy on the mass to see if it is cancer or a wicked infection.
More prayers, please.
Over and out.
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