For our friends vacationing in Florida or Mexico or even Des Moines, we imagine the mercury is higher. But blue sky and rain tag-team each other all day, waiting scant minutes between showers and soaking sunshine. We’re told some here even feel responsible for the weather, one embracing the wetness so much that she feels better in Portland than back home in LA. The moisture encourages roofs to be overrun in moss, yet beautiful daffodils, forsythia and cherry blossoms already are out and shining. Those in Michigan still lag within the safety of their buds.
As our local Blockbuster store goes out of business, I drive by their abandoned corner with a bit of a heavy sigh in my heart. Being a movie buff, I’ve spent countless weekend nights searching through their videos, then DVDs and eventually Blu-ray discs. I feel horrible about it closing, especially since I know I’m part of the problem.
Me and streaming videos; we’re the culprits.
And … ACTION!
One of my not-so-secret passions in life is movies. Yes, I dig frozen coffees, pizza, traveling and, oh yeah, my family. But in a year where you’d think my movie going would be severely challenged, I still managed to rack up scores of films by either renting them, going to the early matinees with the fun senior citizens who talk very loudly during the show or through my latest craze of watching them instantly via Netflix.
Each year I like to share my favorite films with the rest of you. Read More
FACT: This video of Scott and I boxing was shot nine years, a couple houses and several jobs ago.
FACT: Just this past fall, I received a bone marrow transplant from my brother Scott.
As my daughter Taylor and I were looking at old family movies for a video she was putting together for her sister Skye’s birthday, we stumbled across this 30 second clip. Our jaws dropped — really, physically dropped as we stared at each other in a stunned stupor. Everyone else in our extended family had the same reaction to Marci’s seemingly innocuous commentary while taping us whapping each other. Back then there wasn’t even a hint of my leukemia or health issues to come in eight and a half years.
I don’t believe coincidences are merely random events in our lives, but occurrences that point to some higher, subtle interconnectedness between all of us. I keep a Connection Collection icon on my desktop and update it regularly with amazing and simple events that happen to and around me. This is my latest entry.
January is the wicked step-mother of months. Contradictory and contemptuous, January is sun, rain and snow, all in a half-hour’s time. It’s slushy toboggan runs and black ice on I-75. January is your passive aggressive co-worker who smiles in your face then shoves daggers of ice in your back. It’s not surprising, since the month is named after a two-faced Roman god.
Scooping poop in the backyard I noticed, quite clearly, a bar code sticking out from one of Bernie’s turds. Being on doggie duty I couldn’t help but be amazed at how far-reaching the packaging phenomenon has spread. When crap comes out of your dog’s butt already assigned a specific code, we’ve either taken a great leap forward in biotechnology, or Bernie’s just gotten into something he shouldn’t have. Read More
When we finished talking the other day I couldn’t help but feel I left you hanging. You’ve been my friend for many, many years and even though I couldn’t completely explain what it all means, I felt as though I just gave you some pat, standard answers. I apologize for that.
But it’s a tough question, “what’s the meaning of life?” Read More
Food arrives at our place on an almost routine basis these days. Organized by the amazing Carol Pochodylo, a chuck wagon rolls up to our house several times a week in the form of our kids’ friends’ parents, (if I’m allowed to use double apostrophes). The meals have been luscious and much appreciated. And wow, the stories that’ve arrived steaming hot have also been delicious.
Rodney’s Book — A “cute” Leukemia — is available everywhere.
(This piss, err, piece premiered on Michigan Public Radio.)
They monitor my urine here. The total cost of my stay to the insurance company will be probably well north of a quarter million dollars. But to the people that have to dump my collected urine, that cost is far too low. The nurses here at Karmanos Cancer Center need to know how much my output is keeping pace with my input, so no toilet for me; it’s a series of random jugs, some of them placed bedside in the middle of the night, some elsewhere. I’m the Easter Bunny of pee.Read More
On September 11th, after both twin towers were hit, I called my buddy Peter to find out what was happening. Peter lived in lower Manhattan at the time and my little paper in Midland was like every other news organization trying to make sense of the madness. Peter’s partner Masood got on the line and gave us some good, solid quotes about what he was witnessing.