Playing catch up

Three days without posting is like replacing caffeine with Castor oil. Events thrust upon me- surprise birthday party, my parents' surprise materialization, the Super Bowl- precluded my efforts to post. Saturday morning I had begun to write, only to stop on a dime at the sound of my mom's voice. My mom, who has spent the last several months in a halo- a term that has no angelic significance when you have a broken neck unless God broke all the Angel's necks and had them fitted- then a neck brace, jumping from hospital to rehab and bed to floor to hospital, was in my living room. I hobbled down the stairs- now in need surveillance- and into my Jazzy, where I met her and Salim, where the waterworks blew a valve and I  bawled out of control, gaining my composure and losing it until finally sucking in a deep breath, bringing myself under control.


I was supposed to meet a buddy for a late lunch at the Silver Dollar that afternoon, arriving, expecting him to be sitting at the bar- which he was- not expecting to be greeted with a Paparazzi worthy throng of people hollering in unison "Happy Birthday!". My friend's face, barely visible through the masses, was failing at holding back a s*** eating grin- I called him a liar- he took it in stride.


I want to thank all who took time out of their Saturday to be a part of Amy's surprise. Actually my surprise. Don't for a second think that I am unaware of the difficulty many of you have with the reality that soon we will be moving to Dallas. Most friends in my life, collected, literally, since 1971, are here. Other than family, I know a total of about 4 people in Texas. It is- cliche- with heavy heart that I leave. Those who read my posts are from the several demographics of my life. Some are connected to me through my life as a builder- trades, customers, suppliers, employees, salesmen, various contractors, inspectors, city officials- all of whom are my friends. As for my 24 years in the martial arts, all as a student, 16 years a teacher, I will forever hold dear- my instructor, my co-students, my students and their moms, dads, sisters and brothers, those who have helped teach my classes, those- specifically Dennis and Todd- who help me every day, all of whom are my friends. I can go back to 8th grade and remember the guys from JFL Football, those from school, others. High schoolers I still see on occasion. Kids I coached in JFL 25 years ago. The girls and boys at Fr Sweeney I coached for six years, who are now men and women, many married, some with kids. I will be leaving all he musicians I got to know through Nick's development, all helping  us to better understand the world of performance and showmanship, coupled with sacrifice and dedication necessary to pursue a passion. Nick is living proof of their help. Lastly, I will miss all who cannot be categorized, those who have been interwoven with our family in all aspects. They know who they are. I know who they are. Some are recent acquisitions, most are ancient treasures, all are instrumental to our survival. All are loved.


Enough! You'd think I was dead- in which case this post would be much more than disturbing- or moving to Moldova. Truth is, we are moving a scant 800 some odd miles southwest, not far enough away to prevent many timely visits to P-town, usually when Nick is playing nearby. This blog will continue to spew, albeit with a few "moving" days off, right up to the Mayan cataclysm. Don't fret, other than moving to Dallas, I ain't goin' nowhere!