Catching my breath.....

I finally had time to do a little breathing after being very busy last week, taking care of the wife, cooking, cleaning, entertaining.....My niece and her boyfriend came in from Buffalo for a visit, and we had a good time. A little extra medication for the wife, and she actually enjoyed herself as well.

I am preparing some thoughts on Obama, the elections, and what is going to happen to this country in the coming years. While history may be replete with turning points and crossroads, I think it is fair to say there is a big one on the horizon come this November........

Mr. Nightime is back in paramedic mode......

The wife is down for the count with a bad back, and is in a lot of pain, so I am in paramedic mode. Took her to physical therapy, and the pain killers are helping her sleep, but she is not used to being in this type of pain. This is going to be a long few days to be sure.....

Elixir of life.

Anne-droid, as I am, is a coffee fiend. We both have a love for the most beautiful brown liquid in the world. PG Tips and Typhoo tea are a close second, for me anyway. I can't speak for Anne on that one.

I always like to joke that I was weaned from the bottle to the coffee cup, but there is a large amount of truth to that. I was born in Brooklyn, and lived there until I was about 2 or 3, in the same building as my grandparents. (We lived one floor below them.) Coffee was a staple food in our household from as long as I can remember. As this was the late 50's, early 60's, there were very different ideas on what was safe for kids to eat and drink. Most parents today would perish at the thought of their 3 year-old guzzling down a Starbucks triple shot latte, but so many parents give no thought to allowing their kids to guzzle down huge amounts of caffeinated soda, so where's the difference?

On 98th street, which was the block I lived on in Brooklyn, there was a lunchonette called "Benny's." It was the local hangout, soda shop, basically a miniature diner. Going to Benny's for breakfast or lunch was something of a ritual, and I would accompany my parents and grandparents on many an occasion. Here is where I would get my first taste of java, and where the path of my caffeine addiction started. To this day my mother swears that my first complete sentence was "Let's go to Benny's for coffee!" Whether this is true or apocryphal is unknown. I would like to think it is true.

Going to relatives was always a coffee fest. Often it was brewed Chock Full 'O Nuts, or Maxwell House; brewed in the percolator that would go "plop, plop" that I would watch from the counter in my Aunt R's kitchen. If I was lucky, I would get to fill the basket that would go inside the percolator, and put my nose into the coffee can to inhale it like a coke junkie. Whether it is a coffee spoon or a coke spoon, the craving for that fine powder for irresistible. At least with coffee though, you wouldn't end up in jail for possession.

I can remember when we got our first automatic drip brew, a Mr. Coffee, of course. They were all the rage, and they were much easier to use than the percolators, and took much less time as well. They didn't always make the greatest cup of coffee, of course, but over time they have gotten much better. I think the popularity of espresso machines might have helped that along.

Working as a paramedic all those years, coffee was my daily drug of choice. It was an absolute necessity for survival, as important as any medication I carried in my drug bag. God forbid I got a call before my first morning cup. There would be serious doubt as to whether or not the patient would live, as I would be irritable, and possibly annoyed that they had the poor grace to call me because they were in heart failure. You want to have a heart attack, fine. Do it after my first cup of the day. (Yes, I am only kidding - maybe.) 5- 6 cups during an 8-hour tour was the norm. We won't discuss how many I had if I was pulling a double shift.

My most horrific moment came while on a hostage incident. We were called to the scene of a shooting, the cops had this guy cornered in a home, he started firing at the cops, (uh, while we were there, and had to dive under the ambulance for cover) then after some tense moments, he came out, and put a gun to his head threatening to kill himself. The emergency services unit arrived, were trying to talk the guy down, and in the meantime, my partner and I were stationed about a block away, waiting it out. I went into the bodega (Spanish grocery) on the block, got two cups of strong Spanish coffee (Cafe' Bustello) for me and my partner. I had maybe 3 or 4 sips, when we heard 'BANG!!!," and the screams of the officers for medics. The guy unloaded one into his head. We had to rush to him, stretcher and equipment and all.

I had to ditch the fresh cup of coffee. That was the real horror..........(The guy made it, much to our surprise, with a .22 slug rattling around his brain.)

Now, I am sure my Euro and Brit friends who have been here to the States have differing opinions on American coffee. "Weak," is usually the operative word I have heard them use. There is a large amount of truth to that. (Don't EVER have coffee at Shoney's, a restaurant chain in the south. It is vile. I would rather drink tepid dishwater than ever have another cup of their coffee again.) I think though that, for better or worse, Starbucks has forced American coffee to become far better in say the past 10-15 years. You can find far better places to consume your favorite cups of joe, and varieties such as Sumatra, Ethiopian, and Jamaica Blue Mountain are now commonplace.

Rochester has some nice coffee houses here. Two of my favs are:

Spin Coffee on Park Ave. (no, not THAT Park Ave.) Lovely little place, great coffee, good lunches and desserts as well.











Boulder Coffee, on the corner of Alexander St. and Clinton Ave. A recent discovery of mine, though they have been here for some time. Lovely, funky interior. Reminds me of certain places in Greenwich Village in NYC. Have not really tried their food, but will soon.

Both these places are also great as they have free wi-fi, and I get a lot of writing done there.......
Now, all I need to do is to replace the carafe to my coffee maker that I smashed this past Saturday morning.......Oh, the horror, the horror........

Banality killed the radio star.

American Idol. Eurovision Song Contest. What is happening to music these days? While this has been a process that has been going on for about the past decade and a half, if not longer, it is sad to hear what passes for musical craftsmanship. Has all originality gone out the window?

Perhaps I am a bit of a dinosaur, but I feel very lucky growing up as part of the last generation to experience rock/pop/ punk, and whatever other tag you want to apply, as original and creative music. I remember all my friends and I would be glued to the radio to WNEW-FM in NYC to hear what new groups were out there, and what DJ's like Scott "The Professor" Muni would let us be privy to. This is when radio DJ's had a tremendous amount of freedom to play what they wanted to, and this allowed a huge array of talent to be brought to the forefront of America.

Originality. It is something that seems to be so sadly lacking today. Sampling has taken the place of any original ideas. Stealing others work passes for the lack of any real talent. There are very few artists that have caught my attention over the last 10 years or so. Have I not been paying close enough attention? I don't know. I will admit to liking Fatboy Slim, for reasons I cannot articulate. (Yes, he tends to sample, but he seems to have an original style as well.) If anyone has other suggestions to things that might catch my ear, I am open to them.

I got to thinking about this while watching one of my favorite concert films, "The Last Waltz." The Band was one of the most influential American (Canadian-American, if we want to be precise.) bands that ever existed. For those not in the know, they started off as a back-up band to Ronnie Hawkins, an American rockabilly singer living in Canada. They were known then as "The Hawks," and through a series of events, wound up in Woodstock, NY backing up Bob Dylan. (They were Dylan's back-up band when he went electric.) Simply known then as The Band, they were so influential, that Eric Clapton tried for quite sometime to join them. They took so many musical influences and came up with music so original and so their own.

I would highly recommend getting this DVD, if you are not familiar with it. Here is a little taste:



I have to wonder why it is that as I have gotten older, I have less embraced new music as much as gotten more into jazz and blues. They seem to speak to me more. While I am not a musician, I appreciate good musicianship. I appreciate craftsmanship. I have no doubt that stems from my own work as a theatre and film actor. Creation of a character is akin to creating a piece of music; it comes from somewhere deep inside of a person. It is an expression of themselves.

Somehow, too much of today's music is less about personal expression, and more about style over substance.

P.S. - If you want to know more about The Band, look here: http://theband.hiof.no/

Mine are better than Van Gogh's .......

Holly is a big fan of lilac's, and while I am not huge on flowers per se, I can appreciate certain ones. We have irises in our front and backyard's, and they are a bumper crop this year: (There are many more that have not bloomed yet.)





I don't know about Van Gogh, but I'll take mine any old time........

Weapons of dental destruction.

So, in between hacking, coughing, and general lousiness, I did have to take a scheduled trip to the dentist yesterday. We transplant recipients have to be careful about many things both medical and dental, especially since some of the medication we're on can cause issues when it comes to the latter. I take a small dosage of Prednisone, which is a steroid, and while I won't be hitting longer home runs, it can cause problems with bone loss if you are on it for long periods of time. (I've been on it for 11 years come this August.)

As such, and for other reasons, good dental care is a must. I went yesterday, feeling like death only partially warmed over because to reschedule would have meant a longer than a month wait. Good thing the techs who scale and clean my teeth wear masks and gloves.......in this case for their sake, not mine. All went well, I won't be required to leave my teeth in a glass at the bedside table anytime soon, and I was given some new dental tools in which to keep the choppers in a minty fresh state.

First, there was this nifty little device:

Now, aside from looking like a tiny tree on a stick, this little device gets in between the teeth to get at the places where, if you tried doing that with your toothbrush, would require several thousand dollars worth of orthodontia, not to mention a gross of pain medication. It really does work quite well...

Now next, we have this:

Maybe it's just me, but this looks suspiciously like a toothpick. It is made of wood, is flat instead of round, and you won't find them on the table at your local diner. In fact, aside from your dentist, you can only get them at the local pharmacy. (Chemist, for my Brit friends.) Of course, this means that these fancy toothpicks cost more money and you get less of them. (They are called Stim-U-Dents, as their purpose is to stimulate the gums.)

If of course, you want to have the appearance of being environmentally friendly and save the life of a tree, you can now use these brand-spanking new devices, fresh off the assembly line:

These do the job of the aforementioned stimulator's, but are probably more expensive, as they are new. We'll see. I have the choice of killing a tree, or putting more plastic into landfills, as these are not biodegradable or recyclable. So many choices! ;-)

So that is all from the dental front, but oh, just to update you on my scoping of a few weeks back; everything turned out fine. As a matter of fact there actually has been improvement. The new drug they put me on for the colitis last year is working nicely, and there is less inflammation than in the past. My GI doc was very pleased, and I was as well.

The best payback..........

In between coughing fits, I did find time to laugh hard......which then made the coughing worthwhile......The moral of the story below? Living well is the best revenge.
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All women should live so long as to be this kind of old lady!

Toward the end of Sunday service, the Minister asked, 'How many of you have forgiven your enemies?'
80% held up their hands.

The Minister then repeated his question.

All responded this time, except one small elderly lady.

'Mrs. Neely?'; 'Are you not willing to forgive your enemies?'

I don't have any.' She replied, smiling sweetly.

'Mrs. Neely, that is very unusual. How old are you?'

'Ninety-eight.' she replied.

'Oh, Mrs. Neely, would you please come down in front & tell us all how a person can live ninety-eight years & not have an enemy in the world?'

The little sweetheart of a lady tottered down the aisle, faced the congregation, and said:
'I outlived the bitches.'