Sliced and Diced

I got back a little bit ago from the surgery. Here's the recap:

The Good

1. I enjoyed a chili burger and chili fries before going in.
2. The nurse was ready for me a bit before the appointment, so things progressed on schedule.
3. The doc got out nearly all of it (and there wasn't much) with the first scraping. He was so (rightly) confident that he sewed me up after the second minor scraping). The whole thing took less than two hours from check in to walking out.
   
4. He was able to make the incisions along existing creases, so he says it will heal up fine.

The Not So Good

1. The incisions were longer than I thought they would be. I thought it would be more like the biopsy.
2. I have a good sized bandage on my face, albeit with "flesh" colored tape over it (me and the Asian nurse had a good laugh over that). This makes my attendance at the Rotary thing tonight a bit dicey, but I'll go. However, I get to replace it with a smaller one tomorrow.
3. The doc recommended no alcohol for three days. That's just not going to happen with the bachelor party tomorrow. But, I'll stay off of the juice tonight.
4. Talking led to the wound bleeding some. The doc said that the bleeding wasn't abnormal as the blood vessels go back to normal as the numbing agent wears off. 15 min of pressure seemed to take care of the situation.
5. Sneezing hurts like hell.

The bottom line is that I'm glad it's done. I would have preferred that it wasn't as invasive, but that's life. For the time being I'll trust that I won't have a zipper on my face.

Thanks to all for hanging with me though this.

Off to Face the Knife

This morning I dropped off the HB at school and am now at a nearby internet cafe getting in touch with my urban redneck listening to Kid Rock. I'm glad I brought some headphones because I can't imagine any music being worse than the shit that's being piped in here (some Love Songs station that seemingly plays nothing but Michael Bolton and Celine Dion).

Hanging her allowed me to get caught up on e-mail, send out a project proposal and get some other work done. This is good as I have NO idea how long I'll be at the hospital. I'm scheduled for 11 am and after a little prep (e.g., needle into my face) they'll get going. My understanding is that they will take a small (1 to 5 micron) slice then analyze it (which takes 20-30 min). If it has cancer cells in it they'll go take another one. If not, they'll cauterize and I'll be on my way. The guy who did the biopsy didn't think I had much left, but he didn't think it was cancerous in the first place. The area where the biopsy was done is still a little raised, so I'm hoping that's the extent of it.

I'm not looking forward to having a bandage next to my nose tonight since I'll have to get on stage and say a few words in front of 200 people, but that's how it is likely gonna be. Right now I'm not having a lot of anxiety, but am looking forward to getting this over and done with. My only fear is that I'll end up with a big dent in my face and have to go through a round of plastic surgery...ugh.

Fortunately, since my wife will be on a plane while all of this is going on, my parents will pick up the HB from school. They would have wanted to see me right afterwards anyway, so this will take care of two birds with one stone.

OK, off to the hospital (with a stop at my fave chili burger place first). Wish my surgeon skill. I'll keep ya posted.

End of Bachelor Week...Or Is It?

The one day per week that I normally pick up the HB we try to do something special, or, as we call it, go on an adventure. Unfortunately, when that day moved to Wednesday it meant that we couldn't go to the LA County Museum of Art as that is the day it is closed. So, today we relived old times by going. Even better, the new BCAM wing is now open.

I've never been a big believer in taking the HB to a museum so he'll be "exposed" to art. Rather, I look for exhibits that he can relate to. I won't walk him through hallways of virgin mary paintings or Monet's cathedrals and haystacks (no matter how much I love them) because he'll just be bored.

I think like most kids he's drawn to the bright colors of modern art. When we go into a gallery I'll let him walk ahead and see what he goes to. Sometimes it's Picassos, but today it was Koons (because we could make funny faces in the reflections) and some Lichtenstein (because they looked like cartoons). It gave us a chance to have a conversation about art and artists and make some jokes. For instance, when the nephew was really young he would give me and my wife his scribbles. Whenever we saw some abstract art we would look at each other and say, "Nephew Art." When I mentioned this to him while we were looking at some paintings without identifiable subjects he thought it was HILARIOUS.

The ground floor has a great Serra installation. Besides the hugeness of it (something else that appeals to kids) it was cool to walk (OK, run) through it and hear the different echoes.

Tomorrow my wife comes home, though I don't exactly know when yet. It depends on her meeting schedule in the morning. However, she won't get back until after my surgery (I'll post about that separately). Her return is NOT the end of bachelor week as a buddy of mine is having his bachelor party Saturday night. Woot!

Best I can tell is that about 10 of us are going to meet up near his place at about 1:30 pm on Saturday where he or his best man have already reserved us a few hotel rooms and a bus to drive us around to all of his favorite bars in SoCal then back to the hotel. As far as I know, no strippers have been hired for the evening nor are any such clubs on the itinerary. I'm ambivalent about this. Going to strip clubs was never one of my favorite things to do, but it doesn't seem like a bachelor party without making the obligatory stop at one. Then when one considers that many of the women at the clubs or who we could hire for a private party would be young enough to be my daughter, it just gets down right creepy.

After filling my wife in on the general plan, especially the, "I'm not coming home on Saturday night" part she says, "Well, you should check with the doctor to see if you can drink this weekend." Hahahahha. Since I'm just getting a local, I'm thinking it's not a problem.

New Comedy Writers Are at the NY Times

From this morning's NY Times online:

Mine Water Poses Danger of a Toxic Gusher

By DAN FROSCH

Above, residents of Leadville, Colo., where officials are concerned that contaminated water could burst from a drainage tunnel and flood the town.

Seriously? Bad water in LEADVILLE?

And, from yesterday's:

The Architect of Modern Conservatism

By DOUGLAS MARTIN

William F. Buckley Jr., who marshaled polysyllabic exuberance and a refined, perspicacious mind to elevate conservatism to the center of American political discourse, died at 82.

Very dry, yet funny.

Am I a Sports Nut?

The HB and I had another fun night. We cooked pasta and hung out and I gave him his first algebra problems (yeah, like he'll remember that fondly). He must have been pretty whooped as he turned off his light before his bedtime.

Commenting on my post where I essentially called all PGA players not named Tiger a bunch of pussies, Jen wrote, "Do you watch ALL of the sports?" There may be differences of opinion on this, but I think I can definitively answer that, "No." For instance, I would never willingly watch NASCAR, soccer, rodeo or ice skating.

I grew up playing a lot of sports. I wasn't that big, strong, or fast, but had enough wits about me to learn by observation. So, while I was never the best kid on the field, I wasn't the worst either. Some sports (baseball and tennis) came more naturally than others (basketball and skiing), but I would give just about anything a try. And me and my friends would play any sport any time (one of the many cool things about growing up in SoCal).

As a kid, baseball was by far my favorite. I know that I learned math from the backs of baseball cards. I grew up as an Angels fan, which was tough when I was young because they sucked just about every year. And when they didn't, they would suffer a heartbreaking loss in the playoffs (the Red Sox of the west as a friend of mine called them before either team won a World Series in our lifetimes).

I enjoyed football and became a Raiders fan the first time they were in Oakland. Probably because they were the only team in the NFL with a player with my first name (or, so I thought). I also rooted for the Rams because my dad and some buddies had season tickets (first at the Coliseum, later at Anaheim Stadium). When the Raiders moved to LA I was VERY happy. I had other friends who were (and still are) Raiders fans and I remember going to some great games before they left.

The college I went to (UC Irvine) didn't and doesn't have a football team, so it shocked many of my friends that I went there (my wife still can't believe I went to a school without a football team). But, Irvine was a small enough school that I was able to not only DJ at the campus radio station (see link on right side of the blog) but also do play-by-play for the basketball team and for some baseball games. Doing that was awesome and was something I considered pursuing. In fact, in the pre-ESPN days I auditioned as a sports announcer for a new all sports radio station. I did a few gigs for them and then the station went under. I think they were just a little ahead of their time.

When grad school came calling, going to a university with a big sports program was not on the decision making criteria, but I'm glad that Tennessee had one. Being in that atmosphere on a big football Saturday or when Kentucky came for basketball is an unbelievable experience that pro sports rarely touch (though Raider Monday Night games and Laker playoff games were close).
I still remember many of those games, which is kind of a miracle considering how much we drank at them, and still try to make it back to UT once a year for a game.

A couple of profs suggested that I combine my interest in sports with my career, but I decided against it. It just seemed like shitting where I eat. I would have hated to lose my interest in sports, or become overly jaded about it, because I had to keep some emotional distance to 'understand' it better. I like being really happy when my team wins, even if it means bumming out for a bit when they lose.

Since the HB is not into sports at all, I don't go to that many games. In fact, my wife and I will get a sitter so WE can go to a baseball game. When he was young it was tough to catch all of the games I wanted to on TV. But then, the DVR was invented {angels singing}. I would say that I spend less time watching sports now than I did before the HB was born, but I get to see all of the games I want to since the DVR cuts the time it takes to watch one in half. Have I ever told my wife or son I can't do something because a key game is on? No. No game is more important than spending time with them.

Having my own business does make some events easy to catch. For instance, the first two days of the NCAA men's basketball tournament is a company holiday. As is the opening day of baseball.

Am I a big sports fan? Hell yeah. Nut? Well, that's in the eye of the beholder.

It's Bachelor Week!

My wife's off to DC until Friday night (yes, she'll miss the surgery), so that means a guys' week for me and the HB. Woot!

So, we start by hitting the seafood counter at the market (for those just joining us, my wife next to never eats things that used to live in the ocean, so the HB and I get our fix when she's gone). I intentionally went to the market that has a good soul food selection because I wanted to get some crawfish while they were in season. We get to display and didn't see any, so I ordered up some shrimp while looking in the other cases to see if maybe they had some pre-packaged ones, which they didn't. So, when the guy asks me if I want anything else I said, "I'm surprised you don't have any crawfish." Why I'm so passive and can't ask if he has any is beyond me. But that's for a different discussion. So, he looks around, doesn't see any and says, "Yeah, we have some...strange that we don't have any out." So, he brings out a bag of pre-boiled ones which at first was disappointing, until I realized that I didn't really have the time or inclination to whip up a crawfish boil. Happy as, ahem, clams, the HB and I head home.

In the car we discuss how we are going to enjoy our crustaceans. Then we arrive at a decision only two boys can make--crawfish and shrimp pizza. We ate dinner (with steamed green beans, so you don't think I completely abandoned all semblance of parenting) while watching the first half of the Tennessee vs. Vanderbilt basketball game (ilu, HD-DVR). Then we decided a jump in the jacuzzi was in order. After showering, we watched the end of the game (the Vols lost...but those 72 hours as #1 sure felt good).

After some playing with the dog and reading Harry Potter, it was time for lights out. I can't wait for tomorrow.

Another Reason Tiger Kicks Their Asses

It's gotta be tough being a professional golfer not named Tiger. You've practiced what you think is hard your whole life. You think you've eaten well, honed your game and convinced yourself you're a winner. And for what? To get your ass handed to you on a regular basis.

More proof of this was at the Match Play Championships this weekend. Early on, a couple of guys had Tiger on the ropes, but couldn't seal the deal. Then, he obliterates Steward Cink in the finals yesterday.

But here's the thing: Most of the guys he plays against come off as rich, spoiled bitches. Tiger says, "All I know is I love to play against the best players in the world. I love winning and I hate losing." Stenson, the guy who won the tournament last year says, "If I was to make the decisions on this championship, I think probably Justin [Leonard, who he played in the consolation match] and I would have been happy not to play today and take a tie for third place. It is hard to mobilize the energy for a match for third place."

Now, forget about that the difference between Stenson winning or losing was $175 large. I'm glad that's chump change for him. And, never mind about the fans who paid real money or tuned in on TV to watch him play. My guess is that if the match was to determine who would finish 63rd or 64th and Tiger was involved, he'd make damn sure he didn't lose because he NEVER wants another guy to think he has a chance the next time they play. You just can't turn that on and off. That's why Stenson, like most of the other guys on the PGA tour, roll over like a $5 whore when they play Tiger. They'd just rather take the easy money and not really challenge themselves. They just don't care about winning enough, or else they'd try to do it ALL the time.