originally 5/12/01
Wednesday morning went to the doctor cuz of the pain recurrences. She basically told me to take more pills and see if it helps. She was happy with my blood pressure though, 129/80, guess that's ok. The next cholesterol check isn't until July.

I'm trying to do better about that. Thursday I had the Jones for sourdough at lunch. Yes, really. So I got a Western burger at Hardees. I removed the bacon. Didn't want to. But I removed the bacon. Didn't eat it after removing it, I'm not a lawyer. No, the bacon was actually trashed. Still didn't eat it, cuz I'm not Bill Clinton. At this time it is either in the landfill, or the janitor.

Thought I'd be better Friday and have a salad. But when I called Panera to order one, it listed their soups automatically. The last one was corn chowder with green chili's. Couldn't resist, so I ordered the Pick Two and got half a salad and the chowder. It's not easy being weak, but I am well-fed. Only one problem, they gave me a fork, but no spoon. The chowder was thick, but not that thick. Had to walk back to the conference room to get a spoon, proving that no matter how inconsequential, you will get at least one bitch per e-mail, guaranteed.

And nobody else, nobody else, will guarantee that. Admittedly, some may do better than that. But the guarantee has a certain je nais se quos, whatever that is.

Thursday we had a terrific storm, funnel clouds and golfball size hail. At least a dozen dents per vehicle. I would have slept through it but Trainboy was so scared he sat by me and screamed and screamed and screamed. Between sleep deprivation and all the pain pills I was in La La land, wherever that is. I don't remember cuz I was asleep. Had the hail pierced the roof and hit me, it would not have hurt. Such are the marvels of modern medicine.

But having come out of my near-coma, I sized up the situation immediately. He needed comforting and strength, so immediately I slipped into a John Wayne impersonation. I patted the little feller on the head and said, "Don' chu worry lil' pardner, momma will be home soon." And lapsed back into my coma. Comforted and inspired, he girded his loins (as well as a 3 year-old can), poured himself a tropical juice, kicked back, and turned on Cartoon Network.

Actually, I carried him around the house and showed him there was nothing to be afraid of. But sometimes the truth takes a hit when there's a better story to be told.

I know. You're saying, "Cut the crap Dale. What are you getting The Wife for Mother's day?" I was hoping to avoid the point. And you ask it so bluntly it hurts even more. For I took my wife at her word. She has said, "Don't buy me anything, I want services." So today I mowed the lawn. You laugh in derision, you sneer in contempt (for how else does one sneer?)

But I ask for a little understanding. After all the rains we've had it was not a mowing so much as a first cutting. Everything had to be mowed twice to get it even, a job more worthy of a combine than a mower. The backyard now looks completely green-mulched. It looks like the next step is baling it. I would much rather have bought her some opal earrings, and left the mowing for her to do. But I did not. So you see, the way of love is not easy. Because if she wants it raked she can do it herself.

If you're here, you read the whole thing, and need to find something better to do with your time.