2013
For many completely separate reasons, 2013 is easily the most incomplete year out of about the last 25 or so, as far as my documentation is concerned. I have the least writing from this year, I have the least pictures. Though something of an eternal optimist, to the extent many others consider me possibly demented and borderline annoying, it’s safe to say that none of us in my immediate circle would call this our personal favorite year.
So anyway…for now the strategy concerning 2013 is that I’m posting what I’ve got right this very second, though admittedly highly incomplete. But will hopefully continue updating on a regular basis, as more material comes to light. If you need a complete rundown of some known mishaps, this is just off the top of my head: some of my notes and possibly entire journals appear to be missing (not exactly the first time this has happened — for example the first journal Erin ever bought me, from Xmas of ’09, I haven’t seen for at least a decade, and I can tell you that was filled cover to cover with handwritten entries); I was using this junky digital camera up until Erin demanded I break down and get an iPhone about halfway through this year, and can only locate a handful of the many photos I know for a fact existed on SD cards from that era; as a pure accident, my brother’s ex-girlfriend also just happens to have destroyed my flash drive that I was using to back up a lot of this stuff, during a poker game in his garage, when she bumped into my laptop and sent it crashing to the concrete floor, landing just precisely so in order to crack that flash drive in half; my parents sold their house, were living in this RV in a campground for months until relocating about 5 hours away, which adds to the overall chaos; there’s also some negative stuff that went down, which I really don’t feel like getting into, but can be summarized as definitely contributing to a few of these gaps found here; this was also the notorious summer that it rained seemingly every day here in North Carolina, no joke, which kind of doesn’t matter but also wasn’t helping matters any from a general vibe standpoint.
January 1
Emma is texting Erin off and on throughout the day, sends one video, calls a couple of times. Maddie is babysitting, but sleeps in extremely late, meaning Emma’s on her own and Erin is for all intents playing nanny by remote. Then Jill gets home and apparently just goes straight to bed, as Emma continues to text, even calls once saying she and Madison have been snacking all day and that they were going through the school supplies Erin gave them, but still needed markers and binders. Madison was chirping in the background, too, which was cool, and appears to have sent at least one of the texts from Emma’s phone.
A rainy day, we leave the house not once. Jennifer is here for most of it, having slept on the mattress I pulled into the living room for her. We made a beef pot roast, after I defrosted and rubbed down a piece of round roast that was leftover from the Thanksgiving buffet at River Run — good stuff. Add beef broth, crock pot it for about six hours, boil some egg noodles. Pretty awesome stuff.
January 3
Emma loses her first tooth. She’s extremely excited, texting and calling a lot, though Erin falls asleep extremely early and my phone’s in my work pants pocket, so, unfortunately, we don’t find out about it until the next morning.
Today is the source of that note at the top of the page, which I wrote on the back of an envelope. But at this point I have no idea what it means.
January 7
my 3rd of 6 consecutive Mondays off. Of course, the last two weeks I also had Tuesday off, but not this one. Matt comes over for the first time in months to jam, and it’s a very productive day. Daniel stayed up past midnight, calling me for help working out bugs with Cakewalk even, to email me a track of him singing & playing the guitar part for Rotten Apples so we could work on it today. Matt lays down 3 different bass lines for it. He also rocks out some on the drum kit — random but ferocious — uploads two acoustic parts and a heavy metal guitar piece, all from his digital recorder, tries playing bass along with the first acoustic part, and tries a number of improvised vocal takes for Viking Funeral. Making up lyrics on the spot. Then he drives to the gas station, buys a 6 pack of Yuengling, we hang out in Emma’s room (where all the gear is set up, bed temporarily standing up against the closet to make room) and listen to some vinyl albums he brought over (Quicksand, Goatsnake, etc) and watch Van Halen clips on YouTube.
January 10
people from the store call up here asking me how to do some aspect of my old pricing job (occasionally, anyway — usually don’t even bother), but even when they ask, often wind up ignoring this anyway and doing the complete opposite. Like today. They import entire Tree Of Life catalog, then entire UNFI catalog, all in one day, don’t separate it by department, and even though I also advised doing it first thing in the morning, do it middle of the afternoon instead. In other words all 4–5 points there the exact opposite of what I advised. So among other complications, this causes the cash registers to freeze at Davidson and South Blvd while these massive files are processing.
January 12
January 18
hilarious night watching “Ghost Bros” (Ghost Adventures) over at the Walle residence. They break out this new feature — at least I’ve never seen it before — of stamping DEBUNKED in red on top of footage they later figured out wasn’t paranormal, i.e. had a rational explanation, as they’re touring some place on Staten Island. We’re cracking up at how ridiculous this is, wonder how much talent this really takes and how much money they’re making.
“I could do this,” Tom says, “I could walk around proving a shadow from my hand is debunked. I’m debunked…I’m defunct…I’m deformed…I’m fucked…” he concludes, examining his hand.
January 21
My parents’ 30th wedding anniversary. Erin and I both off work today — she for MLK day, me not quite — they gave me a bunch of extra PLO hours in November, to put HHM’s policies in line with Tropical’s, but I had to squeeze these in by January 29. So I’ve had to take 6 Mondays off in a row. MLK is a floating holiday for us, meaning we can take it then or later. I actually put in a PTO for this day, not realizing it was MLK day — so technically my floating holiday is going to be next Monday instead.
February 8
At work I finally get around to pitching a bunch of old paperwork from 2008 and earlier, mostly because I need the folders for a filing project of my own.
February 9
Elaine, John, Erin and I drive to Hickory to see this Pink Floyd laser light show at the Catawba Science Center. I somehow only realize in retrospect that they played the songs in sequential order: Astronomy Domine, One Of These Days, Money, Wish You Were Here, Pigs On The Wing Part One, Comfortably Numb, and then Keep Talking. It’s interesting too that this chronology meant that Syd and Rick (Astronomy), Nick (the single growled line in Days) and then David (Money) all made vocal appearances before Roger (Pigs). On the way home we’re laughing at this middle aged mustachioed longhair, a total tool, who was complaining to the museum curator guy that this was false advertising and he expected actual lasers like at a Floyd show, like this one he saw in Texas, man. Did I mention this cost $9?
“What a dick,” John laughs as soon as we’re outside.
Before that, we had dinner at Atlanta Bread Company, which is a first for me. Erin has this squash soup in a bread bowl along with salad, the rest of us opt for sandwiches or paninis. It’s funny how little I still know in some respects about, I don’t know what you’d call it, the modern experience or whatever, particularly chain restaurants. The food is very good here, however.
February 12
After picking her up, Erin requests that we go out to our Valentine dinner tonight, at BJ Hibachi Grill. It is a great place to eat for less than $10 per person. Hibachi station in the back — Erin has teriyaki on hers, of course — and an awesome selection, all pretty top notch quality-wise. Erin gets one bowl of shrimp sauce and another of sweet and sour, giant bowls, too, as part of what I refer to as her “dipping sauce strategy.” She has a cold though so we walk over to the dollar store and she picks up some medicine, is passed out at a pretty early hour.
As far as work, I went to South Blvd today, to train TJ some more.
February 23
March 9
Alice’s funeral, in Conover. Stacy had spent the night with Caitlin, so they come over here, then Mom drives up and the four of us ride out together in her Honda. Alice had been at the store since slightly after it opened — something like 2000, about 13 years — and was the longest tenured employee there. She, Michele, Mary Helen and Robert were all working at the store when I started there, the last holdouts.
I think it’s lame that neither Jeff nor Mike is at this funeral. Aside from the 4 of us, it’s Robert, Joan, Travis Maddox, Judy Peltz, Johnny, Luke, Pam, Michele (her man sits in the car until some of us come outside to chat afterwards), Mary Helen, some other new hires and/or short lived hires that I don’t really know, I think that’s about it for HHM representatives. Come to think of it there is nobody from her vitamin department here, and that’s pretty pathetic as well. The pastor is kind but doesn’t seem to have been an acquaintance of Alice’s, reads an R.L. Sharp poem and one other amongst Biblical interludes. The boyfriend from Sarasota is here — Hank — but doesn’t feel up to reading this piece he’s written about Alice, thus sends a close friend up to the podium in his place. He says they spoke three times a day, every day, on the phone. Her ex-husband is here as well, tells me in the meet n’ greet afterwards that he and Alice used to run this vitamin operation out of their garage, which is how she got interested in this line of work.
March 11
Erin makes amazing BBQ chicken mozzarella pizza on bagels.
March 12
Rice Fun. We’d been at Kmart looking for birthday gifts (Maddie, Emma) but decide we’ll just send cash instead. Awesome weather.
March 13
Sneakily swing by Kmart and buy Erin this blue sweater she liked yesterday. Then come home, don’t say anything, just put it on top of this other pile of clothes. She notices it surprisingly quickly, is really excited about and thanks me profusely for it.
March 16
Golfing at this crappy Warrior course near China Grove, for Nick’s bachelor party. Our group consists just of Dad, Armando, and me. We rode here together and arrive slightly after everyone else, therefore are the last group in the posse. Daniel and Nick and the other guys are pretty blasted already — and taking forever at every hole as a result. At one point this other group of older guys, not with us, catches up to where we are. But of course we are stuck as well, waiting on the guys ahead of us. It’s a royal logjam. These older gents are grousing about what the holdup is, so we invent an answer.
“It’s a bunch of women,” we tell them.
“Oh, it’s a bunch of women,” they nod, glancing at each other, suddenly understanding and buying this as a reasonable explanation.
Beers in the clubhouse afterwards. Erin went to Charlotte today with Amy.
March 28
All day at the hospital from 10:30am ‘til 9:30pm, for Erin’s gall bladder surgery. She painted her fingernails the color of the bruises on her arms from where they drew blood yesterday. The remote controls for the tv are mystifying because every single button has both an icon and the actual word…except for the button where you page the nurse, which just has an ambiguous picture of a triangle with a plus sign in the middle and a couple of wings coming off of it — this is supposed to be a candy striper’s hat, I’m assuming. No words of any sort, though. Erin hasn’t eaten or drank anything since before midnight, so as the day goes on her head is killing her. Plus everything takes far longer than expected — they want us there at 10:30 to prep her for a noon surgery, but then at about 12:15 they’re saying it’s going to be about 12:45; about 1:15 a different nurse says, “well, it’s past noon, obviously, but we just wanted to let you know that the doctor’s busy, so it’s looking more like 2 or 2:30.”
Actual time they wheel her back for surgery: 4:45pm
Elaine, Tom, and Caitlin followed us over from the house (Erin went there to shower with this stuff they gave her yesterday, which she forgot to bring home last night), then Tom left after awhile, came back, Caitlin left, Elaine and I were there all day. After Erin went back for surgery, which went quickly, the doctor came out around 5:30, was talking like she might be ready to go home at 7, but no, this dumbass older lady first took us and these two black ladies and some other middle aged woman, who were all waiting on people, back to a tiny waiting room that was completely filled with people (the outpatient surgery area closes at 7, and Erin was nowhere near ready to go home), she was like, “here you go!” and we’re all more or less saying, “are you kidding me, lady?” so she steers us to a different waiting room that is only slightly less crowded. Then she comes in about an hour later and says they’re about ready to take Erin to recovery, even though the doctor had told us about two and a half hours earlier that Erin was already there. It turns out this woman couldn’t keep “Walle” straight from “Walker” and kept getting them mixed up.
Anyway, they finally bring Erin up to her room for an overnight stay, 523, at around 9. Two students from her school, a brother and sister, both of which have had her as a teacher, happen to be here because their mom is having surgery, thus check in a few times as we’re hanging out waiting on Erin to come up. She’s highly drugged but semi-responsive by now. Tom and Elaine leave, I hang out awhile longer. This bitchy nurse makes Erin keep the oxygen tubes in her nose and won’t even let me give her some water to drink without running out to ask someone else. Then she returns saying Erin can have “clear liquids” so I just ask a normal question about, “so she can have some water, then?” as I’m holding the Styrofoam cup with the water, and the lady looks at me like I’m moronic for asking. But does bring her some Sierra Mist and chicken broth.
I finally leave at 9:45, leaving Erin a note as she’s passed out cold again. Trip on the sidewalk outside and scrape both knees, the left one pretty badly. Erin calls me around 11:15 sounding out of it but sad, says she doesn’t want to be alone, though telling me I don’t have to come back even though I offer a number of times. But the surgery went well and she will be home tomorrow, which is all that matters.
March 30
Brutal 9am-5pm shift at River Run. “Stop playing with the chorizo,” Bony tells David, hilarious because Spanish accented, as the kids are all chasing each other around, screwing off. Nick snaps Ami with a towel in her side and she is bleeding. Coming home, Davidson is deserted because of the holiday, I’m cracking up to see that the bicycle store is open.
April 3
Watching a Yankees-Red Sox game at the Walle residence, the season has just barely started. Jackie Bradley, Jr. is standing on 1st base, there’s a little pop-up blurb announcing that this is his first career hit.
“I’ll bet he was named after Jackie Robinson!” Caitlin speculates.
“Mmm, I’m guessing he was named after Jackie Bradley, Sr.,” I reply, everyone cracks up.
April 12
We’re in Cherokee for the weekend, a trip which came together because Daniel and I really wanted to play a WSOP circuit event. He and Melanie drive over on their own. Then in another car I’m driving, with Erin, Mom, and her friend Joanne also aboard. They are staying in one hotel directly across the street from the Harrah’s casino, the four of us are in the hotel next door.
Pick up K-K my second hand at the computerized cash game, in the small blind, and have two players hang with me through the showdown where I show off a full house and make about $80. I win another huge pot a few hands later for about $70, but later lose a bad beat to an all in on the river (he had Q-J, I had A-K; the flop was A-Q-x and he was a total chip spewing moron who hit a J on the river) to drop back down to $161.75 (I bought in for $100) and I cash out.
April 13
Make it over to the poker room at 9am and start out slow but eventually end up the big stack at my table and having everyone running for the hills from me. Unfortunately you are forced to be social when you take these vacations with others, plus there are things like eating to consider, so after a few hours I left with something like $225 in my account. The sickest move was limping under the gun with A-A because I knew this black dude at the other end of the table couldn’t resist popping it in these situations, then when the flop came 10–10–4 I check raised him, somehow pulled off a check-call on the river as well when I was about 90% certain he didn’t draw to anything. The big stack to this point immediately left the table after this hand, though not involved with it, he was slowly being whittled down as I took over the table. This was my overall strongest session I feel, out of 5.
Two under discussed advantages of being a tight-aggressive player as I am is that you are one of the few people able to pull off a preflop raise with absolute garbage when you are card dead, plus, when you run into one of these “alpha male” or “block watch captain” types or whatever you want to call them, you can somehow often get paid on all three streets with a check-call and/or check-raise move, sitting on a monster, because they assume they can shove you off a hand, that you are timidly chasing some kind of silly draw. Online I’ve actually pulled off a check-raise on all three streets a couple of times through the years, which is completely insane.
Then Daniel and I are in this huge WSOP circuit tournament, which costs $130. Despite 400+ entrants and signing up hours apart…he and I somehow end up at the exact same starting table…
Greg Raymer and Josh Arieh are here this weekend. Those are the two big names, although I seriously doubt they’re playing this low budget tournament. By their standards, anyway — for us, this is quite the investment. This isn’t Vegas, so they’re not plying you with free drinks all day, but they also don’t care if you walk in with your own, so long as it isn’t blatantly obvious. So this is pretty much what we all do. Also, these Angry Orchard reps have set up a table in the lobby, so every time you walk in, they’re attempting to foist sunglasses and bottle openers on you. I probably end up with 5–6 pairs of the shades and a couple of the bottle openers.
Anyway, as far as this table is concerned…our dealer only informs us now that Daniel and I could have asked for an immediate family exemption, to avoid starting out at the same table. Neither of us have ever heard this before. This dealer as it turns out is from Cornelius, basically just came up for the event himself, and often works home games. So Daniel gets his number.
The format is garbage, though, we soon learn. $3000 in chips to start, 20 minute levels beginning with $25/$50 blinds. By the 2nd level it’s pretty much already shootout mode. There’s a guy to Daniel’s immediate left who shows up late, but when he does, you can tell with one glance at him that he’s going to be good — turns out he has narrated some poker on ESPN3 & is incredibly interesting as well as, yes, turning out to be quite the strong player. He keeps talking non-stop, telling all kinds of compelling, often behind the scenes type stories, while playing pretty much every hand. And knocks out the first three people to leave our table.
There’s just one woman at our table, but she’s an attractive if somewhat older lady who just so happens to already be the semi-notorious chick I’ve already heard quite a bit about, from some other guys over in the cash room. She accidentally went all-in last night for $490. They don’t have live cards in that room, it’s this weird computerized thing that’s actually way cooler than we thought it would be. You’re seated around a table like normal, but there’s no dealer, everyone has their own computerized screen to look at. The advantages are that action moves much faster and you don’t have to tip anyone. Anyway last night she accidentally hit the “All In” button when she meant to fold. Immediately announced to the entire table what she did, and asked for a pass on any future action, she’d somehow settle up with whoever won the hand. Well then this one guy with AK said screw that, he was calling her. But then she wound up winning the hand with whatever junk she was holding.
So I now hear pretty much the exact same story from her. She plays way too many hands here, however. It’s one thing if you can pull it off like ESPN3 over there, but she really doesn’t. Meanwhile, up on the 3rd floor, Erin and Mom are watching us play. Mom’s actually the one who shot those pictures above. I go all in under the gun with KQ, having just 10 big blinds left, and it folds around to Daniel. He debates for quite awhile before folding AJ, says I’m pretty much the only guy he would’ve folded to in that spot. This is the second hand we’ve gotten tangled up in, the first being a Q9 I had in the small blind, where I check-raised on a flop of Q-8–2 (everyone limped), then led out on turn. I go all in later with 10–10 & this Latino dude (new arrival — there were already 3–4 bustouts from our original group) with AK calls, hits an A on the turn and I’m toast.
I head directly over to the cash room from here. Out of 5 cash sessions this weekend, it will turn out to be my only losing one (-$40) as I just can’t seem to get anything going. The seating is bad, as this Asian guy to my immediate left has about $500 the whole time, and the only reason I’m even sitting here is I was dumb enough to agree when this Asian chick, who had around $1000 when I played against her the first night, asked if I would switch before I sat down at my assigned seat.
April 14
Recreational Farmer Man: surely not the “official” name I would term this type of player, but I had one to the right of me this morning and it occurred to me that nobody has really ever classified this guy, to my knowledge. We are playing $1/$2 no limit hold ’em, and whatever the street, whatever the pot size, whatever the situation or number of players, if it folded or checked to this guy and he was interested in the hand, he would bet $5. WTF is this, exactly? Not quite passive, not quite aggressive…but definitely not a maniac, though definitely not tight, either…he is certainly a calling station, but often takes the initiative, too, in a hand, such as it is…
Interestingly enough, I finally manage to stack this guy in the one occasion where I witness him diverge from this strategy. After a disappointing end to my Saturday night (no cash in the tournament, and my only losing cash session as well), this morning I had managed to grind out a slow but small profit, and finally pick up kings on a hand where this guy changed his preflop raise to $7 for some reason. I make it $20, it folds around to him, where he mulls the situation for a few seconds (and that was the other inexplicable element, that he was talking intelligently about Pot Limit Omaha and this game though completely sucking at it) before deciding he doesn’t even have enough chips left to fold, and going all in, after which I insta-call and he flips over a suited A-10.
I groan and assure him that an ace is guaranteed to hit, because pocket kings are ace magnets. Another guy at the table laughs and says he folded an ace, so now it definitely will hit. The flop is A-A-Q. The entire table laughs, and the turn is a blank, further sealing my doom, and this $80 pot is going to make another losing session for me, it looks like, at a juncture where we’ve been playing a couple of hours, and everyone in my posse is talking about leaving soon (they’re at different tables), and Daniel’s way up and so is Mom, and I’m finding myself getting not so much angry now but bemused to my inexplicably rotten fate in big all-in pre-flop pots, no matter how much a favorite I am…but then one of the last two kings in the deck hits the river, and this justifies everything, both for the hand and for the weekend.
I had told myself I was not going to be content with small victories like I have been in the past, and though the end result for the trip (only up a whopping $40) looks conservative, I am happy with how I applied that strategy and, ultimately, with how it worked out. It’s a very profitable game this morning, for all three of us, at separate tables. I think the Sunday morning cash game is where it’s at, on big tournament weekends like this — you’ve got all the donkeys going berserk, trying to make all their money back before leaving town. So I’m up a couple hundred on poker for the trip, even after dropping $130 on that tournament yesterday.
April 20
April 26
Erin has two interviews at ADR, one for West, one for Statesville Junior High.
April 30
Monsoon rain conditions when we leave for work this morning, literally running to my car. Erin finds out she is getting the Blended Learning Coach position at North Middle!! I am so happy for and proud of her. She is extremely excited and a little bit nervous, obviously.
May 1
While Erin does other school work, she has me calculating her students’ GPAs. This is curiously kind of a fun project. It’s official now that she is going to North Middle as their Blended Learning Coach — didn’t even have to interview for this one. She’s excited & so am I, I know she’s the best at what she does.
May 3
Crazy day all around. In to work at about 7:30 because Erin wanted to be dropped off earlier, and this is good, because I agreed to do the entire UNFI update for all of grocery.
At River Run, it’s 4D night, as they call it for some reason, a tournament down at the tennis center which transpires every first Friday. Bony’s out of town, and Jennifer didn’t schedule me in until 5:30, which means it’s the usual chaos compounded by Bony’s absence, in essence that I show up at the clubhouse somewhere in the middle of the setup process, and the van isn’t there, and Jennifer doesn’t quite know what’s been loaded and what hasn’t, and there’s a brand new chick (Rose) who has never worked this event, scheduled with me in place of Bony. So basically we’re stuck standing around twiddling our thumbs until Ben, who is also working this event for the first time, shows back up with the van.
Tiptoeing through the mine field of various managerial personalities above you is half of what makes any job so difficult. Chris is the only good one left from before, the lone holdout from the old regime. And I also like Mark, of course, even though he’s somewhat hardcore — I don’t have problem with hardcore. What I can’t stand is this constant, zany, disorganized mayhem from people who allegedly have a ton of experience, like Jennifer and pretty much all her handpicked minions she brought in.
Ben’s deal isn’t so much power tripping or bossing people around, not quite, it’s more along the lines of Jeff’s at HHM, which is that his first concern far and away is trying to look like an expert, desperately wanting people to take him seriously. Way down farther on the list is whether or not something is actually correct. Like I actually have in my pants pocket a neatly typewritten list of what we took down to 4D last month, useful because the setup is pretty much the same every time, but though I bring it up to Ben no less than three separate occasions, asking him if he wants to look at it, he refuses to, his answer is always, “we’re pretty much set up, I just need you to get…” as he rattles off a few things. Meaning: he knows what he’s doing, he’s not consulting any goddamn list, got it? So of course what happens is that it’s a ton of trips back and forth, after Ben and Brandon load up the van and take off, Rose and I load up my car with the few things Ben had rattled off, and drive down there, then Rick shows up in his ride, heads back at least twice for more things, as do I once in my car, as does Mark, after reaming us for not being more organized, because this is the best anyone can manage even with a van and everyone having cell phones.
And of course I could manage it better, if the dude in charge would stop playing expert for a minute and consult the freaking list, or if I had any authority to actually just call the shots myself. Somehow last summer, with Bony and me handling everything, it was always a lot more organized than these first two events this year have been, with a handful of managers and about seven or eight employees involved. As merely a lowly employee you find yourself in this no-win quagmire in trying to listen to one manager (Ben), while the guy even higher than him (Mark) is attacking you for doing so, more or less, and you can’t really speak up without selling someone out, you can’t avoid looking like an idiot without being insubordinate. On top of it, Ben’s whole line of defense is playing dumb himself, telling Mark, “this is my first time doing this!” And meanwhile Ben is telling you to do five things at once— like demanding you light the candles, and then when you’re only partially through this, asking you to run and get him ice, then as you return with the ice, casually mentioning that we need more silverware rolled as he tells you to go help some other guys unload the van. Yes, well…let’s just say I’m not alone in finding him incredibly annoying, and inefficient to boot. Then complaining, when Mark is asking him why things aren’t done yet, that he had given us orders to get them done and doesn’t know why they aren’t.
As for the rest of this event: Ben insists on manning the bar for some strange reason, though I’ve never seen him do so before (then again, not doing so would either mean standing around doing nothing, or helping us serve food and bus tables), then splits just before it ends after roping me in to take his place back there. Clever. Though Rose and Brandon and I were the only ones around for dinner itself (aside from Salem’s strange but much appreciated insistence upon helping us), Rick returned with a couple of busboys after it was over to help us tear down, so that was cool. But then, after everyone left with a van and a truck loaded down, with Rose and I the only two on hand, I was breaking down the bar, there were a handful of members still chilling at one long table, and the lights cut out — they were on a timer to do so at eleven. Ben had given me some perplexing orders to count the soda and the juices tonight, not just the alcohol, and this was as far as I’d gotten before it turned pitch black. So the members left, and Rose’s allergies were clearly making her miserable, so she sat slumped against a wall, as it took an eternity somehow for anyone else to return. I occupied myself trying to tear down and clean up the patio in the dark. Back at the clubhouse, Harry shakes his head at Ben’s bookkeeping methods for this event, finds the juice and soda business absurd, but to my relief he and I just sling everything back into their respective coolers and storage spaces rather than counting it all now.
May 6
Mike calls to ask if I will take my old pricing coordinator position back. “It’s been nothing but problems,” he says. I agree to it, so now they’re going to post this accounts payable job. It’s been cool and all, but really does get kind of repetitive after a while.
May 7
Sissy retirement lunch at O’Charley’s. It’s everyone from the accounting department (Sissy, Donna, Kathy, Vicky, Amanda, Jonika, Sherry, me) with the exception of our weirdo new-ish boss (Craig) who said he hasn’t worked here long enough and would feel like a 5th wheel. Lackluster food here, though — lunch Caesar okay, but roast beef sandwich way too much bun, little meat, horseradish negligible.
Leave work at 2:45, pick up Erin. We stop at her parents’ house to get an overnight bag for Elaine, who has a hotel room tonight, in Winston-Salem. Erin & I continue to the hospital there, where Tom is recuperating after an experimental heart procedure. This place is huge. He’s in the CCU on the 7th floor & his room has sliding glass doors. He is in a foul mood, though, which is totally understandable.
May 16
Erin is turning into quite the chef! She’s come a long way since we first started dating. Today it was cobbled together greatness on a budget — she mixes some cheese, milk, and bowtie pasta for mac n’ cheese, throws some stuffed clams that have been in our freezer for months in the oven, after stopping at Bi-Lo and buying four ears of 29 cent corn, then using a BOGO coupon for Caesar side salads from Wendy’s.
She falls asleep early on my lap as I’m sitting on the couch reading, and then the last episode of The Office comes on, and though we were taping it with the intention of watching together later — with other episodes taped we haven’t yet watched — I don’t have the remote handy, and don’t get up to change it. Seems fitting this way, somehow, reminding me of the night twenty years ago (yikes!) that I sat in the basement at Needham Rd, taping the last episode of Cheers to VHS (a tape I still have) even as I watched it. This final episode wasn’t as good as that one, but a fitting end nonetheless, well done if not all that hilarious — and I like the fact they don’t overplay an unexpected Michael Scott return. It feels like real life.
May 17
Erin meets me in Mooresville. We were going to have dinner at Taps but Daniel isn’t working. We decide to try out this Fusion Bowl place behind it, which is great. It’s not nearly as packed as Joel’s, but more comfortable and cheaper while offering pretty much the same thing. We both order the “build your own bento box” deal. The seaweed salad and fried rice is identical, but we diverge from there — she goes for lo mein noodles and tempura shrimp sushi. Having never heard of “bang bang” shrimp before, I try it in mine (Erin also samples, instantly loves it as well) and discover it is awesome. There’s a glassed in waterfall by the front door, hardwood floors, Chinese letters above the bar lit up in red, carved into the wood. A dark and classy look to this room. Our waitress says it’s been open 3 years.
The weird parallels between what I’m writing about & real life continue. Last night around 11pm or so I was working on the 2nd draft of Accelerated, editing this section that alludes to the Mark Sanford saga. Despite having never before heard anyone mention Mark Sanford, ever, in person, in my life, today Jonika and Sherry mysteriously begin talking about him on the other side of the partition. I’m not sure what to think about episodes like this. But they sure are mighty strange.
May 18
Off at River Run for a change, which doesn’t happen often on a Saturday. Supposed to help Tom open pool, power wash house, etc, but it’s raining. And yet even so we take turns mowing his yard with a push mower.
May 25
May 27
Erin & I have lunch at East Coast Wings. They’re on sale (the wings) every Monday & Erin has Mango Bango while I opt for Jalapeno Cheddar. Bottomless homemade chips too of course. Then over to Lowe’s & Home Depot. Then take the back way through the countryside, completely around Statesville, over I-40, past East Middle, to her parents’ house. They’re out of town and Elaine has asked us to paint her bathroom, she doesn’t care what color.
Erin starts out painting first, with this yellow color we picked today, over top of the preexisting bizarre blue-with-random-splotches-of-tan pattern. But it’s not covering well. It’s clear we do need primer, though Erin had insisted, “you don’t need it with this kind of paint.”
So I head off to buy some primer at K-Mart, after first stopping at home to pick up rollers & whatever else supplies we might have. Back at their house, Erin does a decent amount of primer, then I take over & finish.
June 2
I take Tom’s truck (Erin’s been driving it) to River Run. Instead of doing Sunday brunch, Bony & I wind up using the van & my truck to set up this birthday party at the Hagen Knoll pool (a.k.a. “the old pool,” as there are two belonging to this country club.) Ben is extremely annoying when we first arrive & I’m not sure how much more of this dude I can take. He doesn’t care about what’s right, he is only concerned with looking like an expert. Jennifer & Shea laid out for Bony & me last night in fine detail what needed to be done today, we even have computer printouts for some of it.
But Ben, there’s no other way to interpret this, is majorly agitated because we have shown up already knowing what to do. He wants everyone showing up here and begging him, “oh no, please, master Ben, please tell us what to do!” It’s pretty clear to me, for instance, that he wasn’t initially aware this morning that the Hagen Knoll pool even existed. Though attempting to bluff otherwise later, once he figures out what we’re talking about. He basically tells us not to load up the van, so Bony’s ticked off about the situation, calls Jennifer at home for clarification. I think it’s hilarious. Then we ignore Ben & press onward with what we know to do.
When Jennifer comes in, she apologizes, blames her dude Ben’s behavior on some medication he’s taking right now for his foot — but no, sorry, he is always a pompous tool. Nice try.
June 4
we put up little deck tents (whatever you’d call them) on the bottom & top decks both at Tom & Elaine’s. Then come home, & Erin’s sleeping on the couch, The Baron is peeing in the hallway — I run after and yell at him, then for some inexplicable reason, he does a U-Turn in the hallway, runs into my left foot, must either bite or claw it because the 2nd toe from the left is bleeding. Then he runs and hides in the jam room.
I’m pretty good to these cats 99.999 percent of the time, but something about this idiot and his latest stunt sets me off. So I’m yelling at him, but the most hilarious part is that Maxwell has followed me in here, and he becomes the enforcer. He pins The Baron in a corner by my giant speaker and begins swatting at this head, pummeling the crap out of his deliquent orange brother here. Thomas is actually dropping poop on the floor as he wards off Max, this is how scared he is. Hair is flying, as the ungodly commotion has of course even awakened Erin.
June 5
Howie calls my parents to tell them Daniel Haynes has died. To be blunt, he basically drank himself to death — and he was only in his mid 30s. But as a semi-distant cousin, I didn’t really know him all that well. The doctors basically told him a short while ago that if he would stop drinking, he would have about six months to live, and understandably I guess he kind of figured what’s the point.
I stop to help the parents pack, since they’ve just sold the house. Dad and I load some stuff onto this box truck he has rented, then he drives his own truck, loaded with vinyl albums, up to store here with me. I am right behind in my car, it’s raining. Erin is at her parents’ house — rough day seeing doctor about blood pressure, he sends her home.
The Baron escapes somehow while Dad & I are bringing in this heavy trunk full of albums. But why would a cat intentionally run out into the rain? Erin gets home, is extremely distraught because he still hasn’t returned. I drive around our neighborhood, then walk it in a very light sprinkle — not a moving vehicle seen or heard, nor another living creature save one rabbit staring me down bug-eyed in a front yard. As soon as I get home, it starts pouring. Just in case he returns, I sleep on the couch with front door cracked open (a box of shoes against it, to keep from blowing open further) and the sliding back one as well.
Erin is bawling her eyes out & hysterical by now, and I feel terrible about letting him escape. He has to be thoroughly soaked by now, so where did he go? But some people have pointed out that cats often like to take off and disappear when they are ready to die. So we’re hoping this isn’t the case.
June 7
Erin’s last day with students, my parents’ last day in their house — or supposed to be, anyway.
4D night at River Run is zanier than usual. Mark says the tables are too plain, then emerges from the tennis shop with a pair of scissors. He wants me to cut these pine-cone-shaped flowers, white ones, from these bushes lining the tennis court fence, and gives me a box to fill up. Naturally, I don’t notice the gigantic yellowjackets swarming everywhere until after one of them stings the hell out of my left index finger. Mission accomplished nonetheless. But the tennis players are really fired up tonight for some reason, dancing crazily to the tunes George has fired up on his iPad or whatever (and he too is in a much livelier mood than usual), which seems to work out as hearing Daft Punk’s Get Lucky approximately every third song for the entire night. And watching — or rather, attempting to look away from — these busted up old women trying to dance sexily & provocatively. Yikes. There are about 3 attractive women out of all these tennis people, and Salem is by far the best looking of them. She’s drunk on wine by the end & giving me high fives, declaring this the best one ever. Of course, she isn’t some member’s wife, she’s actually younger than me and runs the tennis shop itself.
When the lights cut out at 11pm on that timer, we’re operating by candlelight, which means (I’m bartending) trying to count our alcohol in this manner as I’m putting it away. “You must be one hell of an accountant!” Mark laughs, watching this. For the 2nd time in a row, it’s so dark out here that I twist my ankle taking stuff out to the parking lot.
I stop by my parents’ place after getting off there, around 1am (so by now it’s technically 6/8). I’m going to miss this place, which they moved into clear back in 2000. Also during this whole River Run era, it’s been great because if I take the back way out of the country club, I can hit Shearer Road and then it’s a short drive straight up to their house. Basically the back way there, too, out in the boonies, although passing exactly one store and one gas station if I need anything. Some nights after getting off at River Run, I’ve stopped and gotten beer at the gas station, then hit their hot tub, drank a couple, before continuing home. Which is just awesome after a long day.
Anyway, tonight they are sleeping on the living room floor but wake up when I’m tiptoeing out (I’d stopped here to see if they needed help, because they were planning on working on this until late). There’s still a ton of stuff here, but they are wiped out, after toiling away at this all day.
June 8
Doing a bunch of yard work at the Walle residence somewhat early, after Erin & I have breakfast at IHOP.
June 16
A wild, wild day, & the adventures have only just begun! I sit in a remote corner of the New York, New York lobby, writing about this stuff, at around midnight. Mixing whiskey & Cokes in the bathroom, up elevator to ice machine occasionally. Dave & Paul get in around 2am.
I got here a little after noon, checked my suitcase at the desk, walked over to Planet Hollywood with my backpack. In the cash game I picked off this dude who would always call my raises in the blind & then try the “lead-donk” play on every single flop — got him for about $60 eventually.
Bought into a $70 tournament & finished 4th, though I should have been heads up with the chip leader. This dude who folded every single hand called my all-in with K9 & rivered a straight, then this English broad who totally sucked & also folded every hand called my next all-in with a small pocket pair. Bye bye. The quality of play was really bad and I don’t feel like I made many mistakes. One guy with a stack tried this bizarro play of check/call, check/call (after calling my preflop raise), then check/min-3-bet on river even though I am down to less than pot. I go all in and he folds — makes no sense whatsoever.
So after cashing in that for just $157, I walk up to the Rio and watch the WSOP in action. First the ESPN “tv table,” which is down to the last 3 players battling for a senior’s bracelet, then to this roped off section in the back. And wind up being extremely glad that I came over here.
The first familiar face I see sits two tables in, facing my direction, wearing these gigantic headphones — it’s Eli Elezra. Then I realize Marcel Luske is sitting even closer, at the 1st table in from the ropes, in seat #3, and furthermore, I’m pretty sure I recognize that stupid little top hat perched atop this other guy’s head, even though he has his back to me — and yes, moving sideways down the ropes enough to see his face confirms it, this is Jeffrey Lisandro. And then as if to remove all doubt, after the hand ends, Lisandro points his finger at the dealer, begins berating him for some matter, I can’t tell what. But clearly being a bunghole about something.
This is the craziest scene I’ve ever witnessed, and it only gets cooler — Erick Lindgren, Greg Mueller, and then I notice Gus Hansen and Daniel Negreanu are at the same table! Over by the side rail! Then Marcel Luske draws my attention when he calls out to some tall, apparently random blonde in a purple dress, who just happens to be strolling past this section.
“Hey, Candy!” he shouts.
She stops and looks back at him, replies, “my name’s not Candy.”
“Oh…well, you look like you’d be sweet, like candy!” Luske says.
After this interesting exchange dries up, I move over to the rail beside the Hansen-Negreanu table. I would estimate the closest seat is maybe 6 feet away from me. Some player I don’t recognize is talking about Phil Hellmuth, some piece of playing advice he’d read, that the Poker Brat had imparted.
“I will say this about Phil Hellmuth,” Gus tells the table, “he’s probably the only player in the world who could make his playing style work. Some of the things he does make my head spin — which they should. They should make anyone’s head spin.”
“Who they talking about?” this guy behind me asks.
Turning to face him, I say, “Phil Hellmuth.”
“Oh. I thought they were talking about my son.”
“Who’s your son?”
“Calvin Anderson.”
I choke back the urge to laugh. I have no idea who Calvin Anderson is — though I’m sure he is a fine player and everything, his dad here is somewhat delusional and must be taking vicarious living to a ridiculous extreme.
“Do you know who he is?” the dad asks.
“Well, I’m sure I would recognize his face,” I recover enough to blurt out, though not exactly convinced this is true, either, “half the people in this room I recognize, but don’t know their names.”
Meanwhile, Hansen jokes after a hand, “I’m a really tight player.” And all I can think is that of course this ghetto digital camera seems to have dead batteries now.
With near frantic urgency, I dart out of this massive room & into the hallway, hit up every little snack vendor kiosk from here to the casino. No batteries. Finally, back at the Rio gift shop, I pick some up. Dip back into the hallway, & realize out of the corner of my eye that Hansen just walked past me. Sure enough, I turn around & confirm it is indeed him, walking into the heart of the casino. Either he just busted out, which seems unlikely considering the amount of chips he had, or they are on break. Great.
I make my way back to the Amazon Room. At some point, I inquire at the tournament registration counter about buying into a WSOP satellite. They don’t have it set up as straightforward as I’d hoped, as you would think, there is no satellite that punches your ticket directly into a tourney. You pretty much have to win 2 or 3 of them to get into any tournament. Furthermore, I ask the guy if you can sell or transfer winning satellite tickets, & he pretty much laughs me out of the room, shakes his head no. Weird. I am just about certain that guys used to have little cottage industries going of doing nothing but this, winning satellites and then selling them. When I say something about, “wow, this is getting just like the airport, they’re cracking down on everything,” he laughs even harder.
After this, I hang out some more watching that “TV table” for ESPN. You can’t tell from watching it on television, but they’ve just dressed up one corner of this massive conference room, rigged it with those famous blue lights, and then erected these wooden bleachers for people to sit in. It looks nothing like the rest of the room, which they’ve cropped out of the footage.
Then possibly the craziest moment of this entire day occurs. I drift back to that roped off section in the rear, where I somehow become just the 5th person hanging out, aside from the still seated dealers: Marcel Luske is standing here talking to two guys I don’t recognize, and then in between us, Todd Brunson paces back and forth, clearly obsessed and stewing over something, as he doesn’t really look up from the floor. I debate saying something to him or Marcel, but can’t think of anything that isn’t 100% dorky, and don’t want to interrupt.
When action resumes, I am able to snap a few halfway decent photos and even a tiny bit of video. But this crappy digital camera sucks, I would have been far better off with film. By far, the best of these is this one, where Hansen is staring down Negreanu:
Erin is a big Gus Hansen fan, and I like to think we can basically thank him for my iPhone. When I post these pictures to Facebook, she laments the relatively poor quality of this footage. Has ordered me that snazzy new phone, which will arrive soon after I return from Vegas.
June 29
Erin, Caitlin, Victoria & I leave for Ohio, just past midnight. We stop at Denny’s in Wytheville for grub. We have a rental car this time around. Erin drives until sunrise, Gallipolis, where I take over. Emma is extremely excited when we arrive, runs out squealing, “Daddy!” and hugging me. They have a pretty nice place, off of 23 in between C-bus and Delaware.
We have breakfast at the Canal Winchester Bob Evans, and Emma orders spaghetti. Then on 33 in between Nelsonville and Athens somewhere, she’s listening to music on her headphones, just randomly screams, “OHH! Trouble…trouble…trouble…,” out of the blue, obviously singing along with that one Taylor Swift song. So we’re all cracking up about this.
Other classic Emma moments:
- To Caitlin, they are talking about something completely different & Emma blurts out, “you’re really pale!”
“So are you,” Caitlin says.
“Yeah but not as pale as you! You’re really pale!”
2. Also to Caitlin, in the Ravenswood McDonald’s: “you look a mess!”
At Charleston I get extremely drowsy & Erin has to drive for an hour, at which point it suddenly starts raining. We get into Statesville around 5, hang out at Tom & Elaine’s for a while.
June 30
Day of swimming at the Walle residence. Michael & Julia bring McKayla over for this prearranged play date. The water is down somewhat, but still, Emma is taller now & can just barely touch the bottom of the pool on her tippy-toes. Emma gives a classic speech to Jennifer, beginning with, “I heard you might not have enough money to buy the stuff to make s’mores? That’s gonna be a problem.”
“No, I have enough, it’ll be fine,” Jennifer says — she’d been discussing money with Tom in hushed tones, apparently, and Emma overheard.
“Okay, because I was gonna say, if you don’t have enough money, we could get someone to let you borrow it. Or maybe they could buy the stuff to make s’mores!”
It starts raining, which puts the kibosh on any grilling plans. We order King of the Sea instead, and I drive the rental to get it, with a quick pitstop at Wendy’s to pick up nuggets, fries, and Cheerwine for Emma. After we eat (they add & charges us for an extra stuffed clam meal, but we decide to keep it — always screw up someone’s already, though, always) Tom follows in his minivan as Erin drops off the rental. Emma and I ride with him. He’s talking about his disability payments, wishes he was still working, etc, while Emma enthuses about possibly night swimming. She was obsessed with this last summer, too. After depositing the rental, Tom drops all of us off at our house.
Later, Victoria comes over to spend the night. She braids Emma’s hair, and when Emma strolls proudly into the living room to show us (Erin & I are watching tv in the dark, exhausted), I realize how fast she is growing up, & that this a little sad. But also think she’s beautiful, & this makes me want to cry. It’s almost surreal when you step back and think, “I made this!” because it seems a little outlandish that we are even capable of doing so.
July 1
Emma gets to hang out with McKenzie some, and swim at Elaine’s
July 2
Everyone getting their hair cut by this Carla chick at the Walle house. Actually I’ve met her once before, one time last school year where I picked Erin up at Carla’s salon at Old Mountain Rd/Buffalo Shoals, she and Lauren were cutting their hair cut then. Lauren is over tonight with Carleigh, says she bought Indians, Browns, Buckeyes, & Red Wings clothing for the baby. Carla’s three kids are here too. Everyone gets a haircut, Erin even pays the lady to shave my head and face. Her kids are hilarious, know a lot about sports, are daredevils in the pool — it’s the 3 of them, Emma, & then I’m forced/volunteer to chaperone, an idea that only occurs to them after dark.
Before that, we’d been watching a Reds game that, I would only learn hours later, after arriving home, wound up being Homer Bailey’s 2nd career no-hitter. But they made me switch over to the Yankees game at 8, then haircuts, etc. The younger kid I had to pay $1 because he successfully jumped from the railing to this one flip-flop shaped float, and remained on it. He’s also telling what I consider suspect tales about meeting A-Rod and McGwire. I drink a bottle of cab. Erin’s new haircut turns out great:
July 3
Soggy fireworks night in Statesville. Elaine, Jennifer, Julia & McKayla are over, though Elaine leaves before it even starts. Erin refuses to step outside, the rest of us get absolutely drenched — the rain starts almost exactly when the first firework goes off. Emma & McKayla are running through our back yard, holding hands, singing, etc, then sit down on this wall in Brian & Michelle’s yard. When the rain becomes totally unbearable, we head inside & I open the curtains in our bedroom (“wow, they’re really going fast!” Emma notes with complete seriousness, at the rapid fire pace) so the two little ones can watch. Everyone in the park either brought a tent or is under the pavilion, from the looks of things.
July 4
I work from home starting at 7:30am. This saves gas & allows me to take a 3 day weekend instead — Tropical closed today, it was either this or drive to an HHM location. Erin & Emma head over to Walle house to swim. I have my Memorex mp3 player set to “The Lake” FM station, blasting tunes while I work. Awesome. Journey block at 11.
Later, I drive over there & we watch NYC’s fireworks across East River. Emma dances to the music (as the fireworks are going off, surprisingly non-horrible live cuts by Tim McGraw etc)(Usher “curates” the festivities, whatever that means).
Elaine asks me, “are your parents living on Woodstock time still? They are, aren’t they?” Then adding, “those are two of the wackiest people I’ve ever met. I just love them!”
July 5
I think she might be onto something, though. My parents did, indeed, make what seem to be some very wacky plans — first they paid to rent the spot next to them on High Rock Lake as well, for the 4th, because it was so noisy on Memorial Day. And we were planning on camping in a tent there; then they announce they’re going to Oak Island instead, invite us to meet them there; except it turns out they are not actually staying on Oak Island — they rented a hotel room in Whiteville, about an hour away from there! And yet we were planning on going there, still, even after this latest wrinkle. Except around eleven this morning I talk to them, and say we’ll be on the way soon, then shortly thereafter call back to say we changed our minds.
Erin’s in somewhat of a funky mood partially due to this, plus the weather sucks (raining every day, off and on), we don’t have a ton of money to do stuff, and my car is in rough shape (expired tags, 2 very bald tires).
I think we made the correct call not driving clear across the state today. Instead we hit East Coast Wings for lunch. Emma has a cheese pizza which actually looks surprisingly tasty, Erin and I both the buffalo chicken wrap with homemade chips, are both disappointed the chicken turns out to be grilled. But it’s still pretty good. We also walk over to Delishi — Emma had never been there.
We fashion a cool day out of nothingness. Drop Erin off, she tries to nap. Then I drive Emma to the library in Tom’s truck (we’re always borrowing). Along the way she tells me, “if you don’t shave those legs you’re gonna turn into Bigfoot! You furry animal!” We sign her up for the summer reading program. She keeps saying, “I can’t read very good,” but that’s not true at all. For example she picks out large words on the posters, library signs, etc, can read those, then goes over the computer and types “mermaid” into the search box.
“I look that up on YouTube,” she explains.
And knows how to spell Americans, and so on. The truth is she doesn’t feel like reading, I think, and is therefore constantly steering me to the younger, picture books. I strike a compromise between the two sections, even if all she checks out is mermaid books & ones on cats (grabs one on Maine Coons all by herself, interestingly enough, with no prompting from me).
Then back at the house, Emma shouts, “woohoo!” or something to that effect, waking up Erin on the couch. We go play in the park to allow her more time to sleep, taking Maxwell with us on a leash. It’s muddy there, she makes a couple temporary friends. Max is tied to a tree. Return home again, later the three of us drive over for a swim.
July 6
I’m mowing around the pool while everyone swims & feel a sting on my left ankle. Then there’s another on my right thigh, and I take off running. Even so I’m hit by three more, in rapid succession, all on my right side: hamstring, ankle, top of foot. I swat two more off of my shorts — hornets, that is, yellow & black ones. So they obviously have a hole in the ground I just mowed over.
I stand on the deck panting; everyone else is out here & enjoying themselves & haven’t even noticed, so that’s good. But then Emma walks over and asks if I’m okay. I decide to downplay it, admit to one “bee sting.” It doesn’t even really hurt at first, and I even goof around in the pool for quite awhile (after slamming a couple beers, mind you).
After I come inside, Erin eventually convinces me to take a Benadryl. She & Emma go to Delishi to see Victoria work, I try to sleep in Elaine’s room. The Benadryl does nothing, really. It just knocks you out, and even then not effectively, because I keep waking up either itching or with my leg on fire.
-Erin paints Emma’s toes on living room floor. Emma starts out using “eeny meeny” method but abandons this, to pick color.
July 7
Erin goes over to her mom’s house around 9:30 because Emma & I are still sleeping. Emma’s excited when she gets up because she can pick out whatever she wants to wear. She brings out a bunch of different outfits & asks which one I like best, then goes against all suggestions anyway & wears this maroon summer dress. “I wore this my last day of school, which I didn’t even know was gonna be my last day of school (they moved away abruptly), and I really like it,” she says. Now on the quest for a hair brush.
Actually one of these rare days where I wake up early & knock out all my writing “requirements” for the day (currently trying to edit 5 pages a day for Accelerated 2nd draft). Then hang out over at Erin’s parents’ house, as they’re all in the living room, for eons at kitchen table by myself working on Vegas story. Jane tells me, “you have a nice black man’s butt,” and even rubs it, adding, “you have to have some black in your family tree somewhere,” and by this she means how I look. Amusingly enough Miles also once said I must have some black in my bloodline, years ago, but he was talking about my mannerisms. So who knows.
I swim with Emma and John, as Erin and Jennifer drive down to Earth Fare for chicken breasts, etc.
July 10
Emma & I go up to High Rock Lake in the evening, spend the night on Mom & Dad’s RV. Which is in fact currently their home. It is raining pretty steadily and we can’t seem to get a fire started despite paper & kindling, boxes from my trunk, etc. Some people at a neighboring site check out, so Dad & I run over to their still smoldering fire & grab what we can, piling hot pieces onto dry carriers. But nothing takes, we give up, it keeps raining. Then Dad tries again a little later and somehow gets it started, Emma is able to make s’mores.
It’s a pretty early night, actually. We rented a couple RedBox movies for Emma and by the time she puts in the 2nd of these, asking me to watch it with her (an American Girl movie with Jane Seymour & this one dude from Final Destination), Mom & Dad are going to bed. “You’re a good dad,” he tells me, as he’s leaving the room.
July 11
I stay at High Rock all day. And am able to work remotely here, out of Dad’s trailer, from about 7–3. It’s a pretty sweet setup he’s got in this thing, actually, a side door leading into this office area that he uses quite a bit himself. Full power, the internet’s even surprisingly good here somehow despite the terrible phone service. Mom walks across the road and buys us all breakfast, brings it back — pancakes, bacon, etc.
July 13
A really fun father-daughter day, just me and Emma hanging out around town. First we go to the library, check out some more books for her. Then lunch at Wendy’s, where Emma gets on this kick, going on about how important trees and money are. Then thrift store shopping over at that somewhat downtrodden place on 151. I buy her a 75 cent doll, she straps into my hat as the doll’s “car seat”:
After this we go to the movies & catch Monsters University in 3D. Awesome, awesome day.
July 15
Emma somehow manages to hit her face on the bottom of the pool. This is the first complete day with no rain in weeks.
July 19 & 20
High Rock Lake with Emma. Daniel & Matt were both supposed to be here too but bailed for various reasons. Emma doesn’t have much interest in hanging out by the fire, would rather stay in the RV and watch TV. This middled aged dude at the next lot over stops by one night. He’s round & mighty wasted but sings well, along with these tunes that we are blasting. Emma asks me a few times to stay inside and watch these kids shows/movies with her, but I explain that I actually see even less of my parents than I do of her.
July 21
Tom & Elaine pick us up at 7am, we are on the road to Myrtle Beach. It’s the first time since April 2010 that Erin and I have been here, and Emma’s first trip since Jill and I took her and Madison in June of 2009. Tom & Elaine were there just a couple of months ago. We make it to Salisbury and decide to stop — or rather it had been long predetermined — at McDonald’s for breakfast. Tom asks if we’re getting out or going in.
“Oh no, we’re going in,” Elaine says, “we need to make our coffee, we need drugs…coffee and drugs…”
“Coffee’s a drug,” he says.
“We’re going in.”
They pay for our breakfast, and we’re on the road, 70 as it turns into 52, and then staying on that all the way into South Carolina. Emma has one dollar and some change and contemplates at every stop — which is often because we are stopping about every 40 minutes, they’re on a schedule to do so because of Elaine’s back. Somewhere around Ansonville I’m cracking up at this dilapidated red building, a deserted produce stand, that a hand painted marquee bills as “My Dad’s Place.”
“You notice that too?” Elaine cracks, “that’s pretty sad. I think they should put dad in a home and get it over with.”
Emma quote later, at Myrtle, as she and I are walking from the pool to the elevator. It’s 11pm and we are finally calling it a night. “I always make friends, everywhere I go. It’s a special gift I have,” she says.
July 25
Geneva has just started, talking my place in accounts payable. It’s my first day back from vacation, training her.
July 26
And now Erin’s first day back at work, in this new BLC position. Emma stays at Elaine’s all day while we’re at our jobs.
July 27
Monsoon type rain early in the day — soccer park completely flooded — but it ends up being a strangely productive one. Erin and Emma pick up McKayla and head to the $2 theater in Salisbury, watch Epic while I stick around and get some things done:
-head to library, return books, but the power’s out there (lady standing outside takes my books), so I can’t go in
-to bike shop downtown, have new tube put on
-to Habitat For Humanity, spend $1 on picture frame that I think will work for some of beer bottle cap collection
-home, rotate a couple of tires, change out a bad light bulb (marked bad on failed inspection, anyway, turns out it’s not, the guy was just a moron)
-sort and frame a bunch of those beer bottle caps, hang on wall in my office
It’s now just after 2am, I’m watching Poker After Dark reruns and have already knocked out my daily edits for Accelerated, all done while also performing my new second job, tagging pictures online. The girls have been asleep since about midnight. Earlier, Emma had me tape this wound- up bracelet to a naked Barbie’s chest as her “bra” (she’s strangely inventive, a family trait), was having trouble sleeping as always even after laying there in her bed watching tv while drawing pictures, having me read a little out of this mermaid book to her, etc. “I have a lot of energy and I just have to let it flow out before I can sleep,” she explains to me, shortly before finally dozing off for good.
July 29
Erin’s first real full day back at work.
July 31
August 2
August 5
Erin and I celebrate 2 year anniversary at Village Inn Pizza.
August 6
Meet Dad & Daniel at storage space in Mooresville, load last few heavy objects before work. Drive to South Blvd, spend day there.
August 9
South Blvd, Comet Grill, pickleback, walk
August 14
horrible hippie duo singing made up nursery rhymes to kids
September 7
Asheville with Erin. Not having eaten, we decide to pick up snacks at Walgreens before leaving town. This is when Erin invents the “snunch” term (snack lunch). Also, once we get to Asheville and start walking around, she coins “DPC” (deodorant per capita) and “BPC” (Birkenstocks per capita). There’s too much of one and not enough of the other — feel free to guess which is which.
September 14
Blue Ridge Parkway with Erin, Elaine, Tom. “You got to lean into it!” I tell them, about going down these steep, mountainous curves. At one point Tom’s leaning back and forth nonstop like a Weeble Wobble, it’s pretty hilarious. Then somehow we find ourselves in Boone, just driving around randomly, end up eating at the old time-y Daniel Boone Inn restaurant there. They really like the Dickinson’s blackberry jam or preserves or whatever it is.
September 19
I burn a mix CD of favorite Fleetwood Mac songs at work (South Blvd)(band & solo) & pop the disc in as soon as I get in my car to leave — Hypnotized is the 1st track. Erin & I have already talked on the phone & agreed to meet at Fusion Bowl in Mooresville for dinner. I stick to the interestate & it’s actually not as bad as usual through the trouble spot (between exit 19 & 23) but then slows to an absolute crawl between 31 & 33. I spend a good 15 minutes there all because of an accident on the other side of the highway that everyone of course has to gawk at. It’s smooth sailing for a quarter mile past that point. These bumper to bumper crawl moments are spent, in part, listening to Bob Welch’s solo version of Sentimental Lady, and then Green Manalishi, Leather & Lace.
Then, bizarrely enough, I finally park at Fusion Bowl — Erin has already gotten a table — and the tune blasting from the patio speakers is…Bob Welch’s version of Sentimental Lady! Erin has already ordered appetizers (half price during happy hour) because that’s the move to make here: edamame in the shell, egg rolls, Vietnamese spring rolls, & firecracker sushi. Therefore we don’t eat much in the way of a quote unquote actual dinner meal.
Erin follows me home, we converse with windows down at the red light at Signal Hill & Broad. She heads home, I continue onward to Bi-Lo for beer (me) and a “surprise” (her), which, after looking all over them in this recently remodeled store, I finally find in a back corner, on a rack by dairy. It’s this little Krispy Kreme individual cherry pie I know she loves (similar to McDonald’s old cherry pies before they changed the recipe in the 90s). This strange ride home concludes with the 21st and final track of my mix CD, After The Glitter Fades, ending two seconds after I pull into our driveway.
September 22
Jen D. over to look at house. Cookout at Daniel’s. Him, Mom & Dad, Erin & me. Nick shows up late. We record this goofy but amusing All The Tech song, which is a family effort. Frozen burgers, dogs, cheese brats, zucchini & mushrooms.
September 23
Erin starts running, training for the 5K! Kym comes over, they have a helper robot on their phones — alternate walking & running for 28 minutes.
September 24
I’m at SECU to discuss possible conventional mortgage loan, then work at Davidson store. Not exactly my most productive day — my parents are in, it’s like a big party. Dad even drinks a beer in the office with Brian. Mom borrows my car to meet Denice at Starbucks. Dad pressures me to leave an hour early, we have 2 beers at Brickhouse. Then meet Erin & Mom at Sauza’s.
September 25
Erin & Kym walk/run again. John also stops over. There’s this deal going at Bi-Lo, buy a pound of deli cheese, get a pound of free deli meat. So Erin does this (horseradish cheddar!) and John too, but they’re vegetarians now, so he donates to us anyway. We make awesome homemade subs for dinner.
September 29
Ride bike to Walgreen’s & back. Last day of regular season.
October 1
Smash the crap out of toe beside big toe on my right foot. Bleeding everywhere, etc. This happens shortly after the Indians’ one game in the playoffs begins. I’m cleaning out front closet & yank on extension cord — turns out it’s connected to this huge heavy drill we borrowed from Tom awhile back. The drill comes unplugged & drops on my foot.
I expect to lose the toenail — it’s very loose & turns black — but keeping band-aids & socks on at all times for weeks prevents this from happening. And of course Cleveland loses this game.
October 6
Highly action packed day. Erin and I begin the morning by driving over to Mitchell College (M.I.T. the locals jokingly call it — Mitchell In Town; either that or UMAS — University of Mitchell Across the Street) to attend the Carolina Balloon Fest training course. Though we already volunteered there back in ’11, they recommend you attend every year if only to receive your tee shirt, parking pass, and wrist band. A few hours of volunteer work will get you into the event for free all weekend.
-over to get Luna afterwards
-drive up to North Wilkesboro for Apple Fest
-home to nap
-dinner at Ruby Tuesday’s with Tom and Elaine
-over to Family Video, sign up for membership and rent 4 flicks: Looper, Varsity Blues, The Last of the Mohicans, Super 8
October 8
I have a great FaceTime conversation with Emma. She is missing the two top teeth flanking the front two. Temorary tattoos everywhere but also a bite from the dog they’ve already gotten rid of — Emma was dancing & stepped on its tail, it attacked her. She reads me this story she was assigned for homework, about some kids going to the fair. She shows me this book on Sacagawea that was assigned for a larger project due in November. These days she’s going to Arrowhead and her teacher is Mrs. Bracken. She’s singing lead in a school play on November 11 called A Salute To Veterans. I can hear Jill in the background telling Emma to ask me if I can make it, so I’ll see what I can do on short notice. Emma also tells me that she has 12 friends.
October 20
I find a missing notebook of mine while cleaning. For some reason that I can’t even begin to explain, it’s under the kitchen sink. This is from the summer of 2010, about halfway full, contains entries for example from when we went camping in Linville Falls. Even some notes that Erin herself wrote in there. I jot a quick entry in there, dated today, and put it with my other stuff. I honestly had no memory of this notebook even existing, nor most of the material within — another great example of why you should write things down.
Erin’s over at her parents’ place. Last year we never bothered to put up Halloween decorations, but I do so today just to make some room in this house!
October 21
Erin makes a good, fun, interesting dinner of rolled up stuffed flank steak, some kind of kit pasta with broccoli & cheese. Before this she asked me if I wanted to “try” an egg & avocado on pumpernickel, then handed me this giant freaking sandwich. I ate it.
October 22
Wow, what a day. Walk about 8 miles from our Davidson store up to Cascade Tire, on Rinehardt in Mooresville. But it’s fun to confirm every now & then that you can still pull off some crazy stunts like this. And I think at the end of this ordeal you can add another page to my Things That Work file — it’s been my theory for years that old people tchnically don’t get “set in their ways,” as the popular saying goes. It’s more a steadily accumulated list of Things That Work over a lifetime, & yeah, once you find Things That Work, you tend to hang onto those for dear life.
What I mean by all this is that you battle for eons to find even one halfway decent mechanic — and I think these are some good guys working here, knowledgeable and reasonable. If they are still around and I’m in my 60s coming here with every automotive concern, you’ll say I’m “set in my ways”…but for now it’s just the exhilaration of finding another of these Things That Work.
The rest of the day is equally interesting. Leaving home at about 7:45am, I drive to Cascade Tire. This Benn guy isn’t here yet, so I leave teh key n the ignition when Daniel picks me up at about 8:45. He’d dropped Holden off at Brandy’s house at 8:30, which is apparently a normal Tuesday morning routine. We head back to his house, get some coffee, he brushes his “fangs,” we pet Moopus on the porch & switch from the Saturn to his truck. He drops me off at the Davidson store.
Leave there at 1:45 and start walking up 115 to Mooresville. At Shop N’ Save I buy a bottled water & overpriced frozen M & M cookie ice cream sandwich thing I was nonetheless craving. By the time I reach the 115/150 intersection, I haven’t heard from Benn yet, so call over there. His woman says he’s yet to return from Salisbury with my part.
I chill out eating dinner in this charming but sad Long Island Deli, having a sandwich called The Concord. Along with Lay’s chips, a pickle spear, and a Corona. I’m the only customer, but the food’s great. A TV mounted above plays a futbol game in Spanish & I try to change the channel but nothing else comes in. Then walk over to Food Lion & read magazines until Benn calls. Then continue strolling up there.
He closes at 5, technically, but it’s 6 and he’s still here, as is one other mechanic helping some chick with her car. It turns out those morons at Statesville Collision put the wrong axle on my car last year, which is why I’m having problems. He replaced that and the front left wheel bearings and still only charges me $150 total.
November 1
Erin’s birthday week begins. I bring home a bouquet of mostly purple flowers, we have dinner at Chopstix. I also ordered her ring today, which should be here by Wednesday. She has a lo mein noodle & bean sprout dish, I have this curry duck. Erin tries one piece, the first time she’s had duck. But she doesn’t like curry. I request #4 out of 5 on the spicy scale, but add more red curry powder anyway — it’s delicious but my nose is running soon enough. Our waitress is a former student of hers. Erin has a ton left over. We also had egg rolls for an appetizer — this has to be one of the best restaurants in Statesville.
November 2
Really fun day, one mini fight but it’s no big deal. Somehow we haven’t had a major fight in over a year, so this isn’t too bad. And it isn’t like we’re doing the whole comfortable indifference thing, either (like me & Heather, after a while), more that we are just perfect personality matches.
- city dump with Tom early today
- to Hickory with Erin (Atlanta Bread, Krispy Kreme)
- we check out the Bunker Hill covered bridge. This is the source of the mini-fight, arguing about how to get there
- Rugged Wearhouse
- Erin goes over to hang out with Jennifer and play LOTRO for second straight night
November 5
FaceTime with Emma for 2nd day in a row. Erin joins in tonight. Emma’s showing us her homework (some of it reflexive pronouns — I’m impressed) & flips through giving a synopsis of this book A Mutt, A Marine, A Miracle, which she says, “is kind of sad, but it has a happy ending.”
November 7
Hauling ass to make it to Mooresville before the jewelry store closes at 6 but of course this is literally the worst traffic home I think I’ve seen all year. It figures. So I am parking downtown at 6:06, just on the off chance they’re still open, which, naturally, they are not.
November 8
But I make it there this morning a few minutes before ten, and they’re already open, so I buy Erin’s ring before working the day at Davidson. After work (more atrocious traffic once I reach Statesville, a wreck near exit 50), I meet Erin, Elaine, John and Kym at Village Inn Pizza. They know like half the people here, too. Erin pressures me to give her the present (it’s already 2 days later) as soon as I walk in, so she’s unwrapping it right at the counter where you order and pay. It’s pretty hilarious. Half the restaurant is seemingly congratulating us. She loves the ring, absolutely loves it, and that’s all that matters. She deserves this and so much more.
November 10
Helping Erin with her war veterans video
November 11
Here’s Emma rocking the mic, in this cute little production at her school. I love this video:
November 14 Thursday
At Independence today, spend most of the day in their pets section — updating prices, figuring out what’s not selling, etc. Erin gets us Chinese for dinner. When I get home (7pm) she’s sleeping topless on the couch — awakes and explains she got food on her shirt, thus just took it off. Fell back asleep immediately and as of this moment (9:53) has yet to reawaken. She had a long day.
November 22 Friday
Pinko belated CD release party at Bella Love. I have to leave before they actually play, but they seem okay with this. Meet the owner — he says this operation is finally starting to make a little money — and watch Wolfdog play. Also finally meet Kyle Ketsdever, he agrees to send some songs within the next week.
Nov 28 Thursday
Thanksgiving dinner, it’s my parents, Erin & me, Ashlee, Matt, and Koda. Mom made turkey of course but also her own fresh cranberry sauce (the recipe with cherries that she actually learned from Stacie), corn pudding, rolls, and stuffing (special dish on the side for me with no onions). Her cooking is awesome it goes without saying. We talk to Clifton on speaker phone. Also Matt Montanya calls and Erin is cracking up at how many times “bro” is uttered on both sides during this conversation. She may perhaps even count them.
“Black Friday” shopping afterwards with Erin in Wilmington. We hit Wal-Mart, they’ve got all the hot deals under wraps until the agreed upon starting hour. So I’m left guarding these trash cans, one of which Erin wants to get for her parents, while she stands post elsewhere. After this we then hit Kmart, Ulta, grab a little grub at Fox And Hounds, then Michael’s and Old Navy. Everything is fine except this last stop proves to be excruciating.
We’re in an hour long line that wraps completely around the inside perimeter, and there are these three Latino kids behind us, with just their mom, who are unruly as hell. They keep crashing into us. At one point, they’re pretending to be on this boat on the Gulf Of Mexico and are acting out scenes — it would be funny, if, well, you were watching this from afar, or in a movie or something. One time I’m so startled when they crash into me that I jump in the air and blurt out some curses. Erin politely asks them to stop on a number of occasions, and we give the mom countless dirty looks. She’ll lecture them in Spanish (we can make out “senorita” or “muchacho” but that’s about it) and they’ll behave momentarily, before starting right into their horrible antics again.
On a positive note, Erin does stumble across a grey pea coat that she absolutely loves — left out of place by someone. It’s decided that this will be her 2nd “early” Xmas present from me (along with a curling iron). Some well-dressed black guy with his family in tow walks up to us, apparently figuring that we look approachable and/or believable, asks how long we’ve been in line; we tell him “about an hour,” he shakes his head with a grin, says he’s not doing it and they leave.
That was it. We were done by 11:30. I made this Vampire Weekend mix CD for the drive over here and we’re listening to it quite a bit. We’re back to Oak Island by midnight.
November 29
Erin wakes me up at a ridiculously early hour to bring in everything we bought last night, to show Mom & Ashlee. Mostly Barbie stuff for Emma, but also this blackboard/whiteboard easel art set. We discover that they forgot to charge us for the candles at Michael’s.
A little later, we all drive over to Dewane & Mona’s house, in Carolina Shores. This is my first time here. On the way, we’re listening to this dreadful instrumental CD, and Dad’s insisting that the lights change faster now on 17 than they do at night, as in, when those signs that warn you (usually on straight flat country 4 lanes) that the light is about to change. He says it’s faster than usual today.
Michael, Claudia, their kids and the au pair were here, but left already. Dad keeps making fun of this au pair business, keeps referring to her as “the babysitter.” Dewane & Mona are just renting for now, while they look for something to buy in the area, but this place is nice and feels like it belongs in Florida. In their office Mona has a framed poster of the original Da Vinci Code cover (Dan Brown changed it at the last minute — Michael says he’s a total pain to work with). Their sun room is the coziest in the house, Shawshank is on TV when we show up and as we sit there.
Mona breaks out some amazing salami to snack on, crackers, Boursin spread. Erin actually drinks a tiny bit of moscato, which is rare. Then everyone is hanging out & Koda’s crawling around on the floor — Mona just happens to be paying attention and notices the baby’s about to start chewing on this one plant.
“Koda! No! Don’t chew on that!” she shouts, stands up & runs over to the baby, “that plant’s poisonous!”
“Mona! Why you keep poisonous plants in the house!?” Dewane barks.
There’s a peculiar police checkpoint set up at the end of their neighborhood when we’re leaving — bizarre because it’s on the street leading out of their neighborhood, which as far as anyone knows is purely residential. Dad machine guns his mouth & the car with breath spray, which to me would raise as much suspicion, if I were a cop, as the alcohol smell. The one officer hands us off to another, as he strolls back to check Matt & Ashlee’s car. Mom & Erin get involved with some harmless small talk with this cop, then Dad says, “so we’re good, then?” gets the nod, and drives off. He will then claim it was some “friends of the police” type card he flashed (given to him by Brian Martin in, like, 1991 or something, clear up in Ohio), when they asked to see his license, that saved the day. Erin says she felt like they were looking for someone, though, and this does make more sense to me.
Once back at the house, us three guys run to Food Lion for beer, then settle into the “man cave” out back. Matt keeps telling us stories about amusing things that have happened on base, and I’m thinking that this actually makes for a nice change of pace from the usual crap Dad & I talk about. He hangs with us until at least 1am, maybe 2am. We’re watching a DVD of The Johnny Cash Show and then a VHS tape I brought of I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times, finally the 9/11 tribute concert. Dad & I are laughing our heads off making up a scene where Bruce Springsteen wants to play but isn’t allowed.
We drink up a healthy amount of beer (my Natty Greene pale ale, his Yuengling) though I am astounded when we step outside at last (he has no clocks & I left my phone inside the house) and discover it’s daylight. Yes, daylight. So it’s about 6 in the morning when I go to bed.
Dec 2 Monday
Erin buys a small live Xmas tree, brings it home and we decorate it. Looks pretty snazzy if I do say so myself.
Dec 3 Tuesday
Erin makes this awesome video for school about “social media safety” and posts it on Facebook to prove how quickly things spread. She asks me to like it with all of my profiles/pages, and I do. Thousands of people have viewed it within a day, some of them in Europe, etc.
Dec 4 Wednesday
Daniel comes over to fix the ceiling. It takes him about 7 hours, much longer than he expected.
Dec 6
Erin’s work party, at Logan’s. Aside from one other couple, in their 20s, we are the youngest — Erin says she works with people our age, but none of them came to this party. I guess that’s kind of like how the more normal coworkers typically steer clear of mine.
Barbara I’ve met once before, that night at Village Inn Pizza, but everyone else is new to me. This is after all her first work party for North Middle. This black dude sitting to my left is Mark, an 8th grade Social Studies teacher. He’s quiet but nice on the few instances where we do talk. Erin and I probably talk to that younger couple the most, this Amber chick and her husband — they’re telling us they want to have 4 kids. There’s this minor controversy when this one clueless older woman grabs the first steak that comes out (I blame the random kitchen guy more for not even announcing the temperature), taking a bite or two, complaining it’s not done enough, etc, which throws everything into a tailspin.
Dec 8 Sunday
There’s an article in the Statesville paper about the video Erin shot — proving how fast social media spreads, in anticipation of these devices the students are getting with this grant — and it quotes her. They came to North Middle for the interview earlier this week.
HHM Xmas party, again at Dilworth Billiards.
December 9
Erin’s interview on the front page of the Statesville paper.
December 13
TK Sushi. Crazy Roll description: “big roll inside-out, never the same.” We order without asking what this even is. Erin printed off $25 restaurants.com gift certificate bought on sale, so we have to spend a minimum of $37.50 to use it. Her main course is what she refers to as “The Shiki” (so named for restaurant near our house) which is chicken, broccoli, fried rice, etc. And we both munch on a seaweed salad to start with. My hot meal is this “side” portion of hibachi steak and mushrooms, which turn out to be an insane pile of food for $4.50. Crazy Roll it turns out is tempura fried & not exactly crazy, inside out, or life altering. Rocky Roll (our favorite — spicy & drizzled with eel sauce) and Plaza Roll are both better options here. Finally, bubble tea — Erin has never had this before. But she orders a green apple one and loves it.
December 18
Erin makes this awesome snack: takes a bag of pretzel sticks, dumps in vegetable oil, ranch dip mix, cayenne, etc, shakes bag, dumps on cookie sheet, throws in the oven at 200 degrees for an hour & a half. Awesome. Even though she had been boasting that she doesn’t need to measure anything — and then it winds up too spicy for her tastes.
December 19
Erin calls me squealing with happiness — her school is going to be the 1st in the county getting electronic devices for the students. She’s the reason this happened, naturally, her awesomeness at the BLC role.
December 24
Xmas party at Walle house. The girls wear their matching pajamas. We do our Secret Santa exchange — I got John a $10 gift card to Starbucks & Erin did the same for her dad (planned that way); Caitlin got me this 5 pack of various coffee flavors from World Market, etc. Any actual present giving (those rare ones still reamining unwrapped, that is) will wait until Xmas day, though. I do receive my stocking from Elaine, which has Slim Jims, gummies, & trail mix, as well as a couple goodies thrown in by Jane, which would be Twizzlers & these boxer shorts with roosters all over them (everyone is referring to these as “cock boxers”). Jane & crew are not actually here, however.
December 25
Queen of the Night pale ale. Orange cap with skull. Comes in variety pack of 6 that John & Kym get me for Xmas. Purchased at Wine Maestro in downtown Statesville. Also includes Ass Kisser Strawberry Wit, Cottonwood Frostbite, Highland Kasmir, Highland Thunderstruck Coffee Porter, & Weyerbacher Pumpkin.
December 26
Before work, dropping off Erin at her parents’ place. We finally get around to listening to her mix CD, she loves it. She thanks me for the chill day yesterday.
After work, I meet Dad at this Hideaway bar in Mooresville, where he’s already had a few with Ric Antinori. This used to be a jumping place but is thoroughly dead now — just two other guys aside from the 3 of us, and then even those guys leave.
Erin texts me that she’s arrived at Daniel’s. Dad & I have one beer after Ric splits — now the only two patrons here — and then we bounce over to I. Bambini, placing a to-go order that takes forever to arrive. We sit at the bar & have one giant draft apiece while waiting, of course. He is fascinated with cutting up with the employees like always.
Food-wise, the wait is worth it, though. Back at Daniel’s house & digging into the pizza I ordered, it might be the all-time best I‘ve ever had. Erin wanted a salad, because I brought her one home once in the past and she loved it. The pizza has eggplant, basil, artichoke,
December 27
We get these bizarre Xmas presents in the mail consisting of a $50 travelers check, a Disney handbag of some sort, and a NY Yankees wristwatch. But no note of any sort, so we have no idea who this is from. Erin goes to Birkdale with Caitlin today, spends much of the $50 at Total Wine. Buys a bottle of sangria for herself, a 6 pack IPA sampler for me: Acme IPA, Abita Jockamo, Ballast Point, Avery, Great Divide Titan, & Mission Shipwrecked Double IPA.
December 28
I leave for Ohio at about 3:50 a.m. Made a mix CD Friday night which, bizarrely enough, ends right as I’m pulling into the Wytheville gas station for my first pit stop, having started the disc in my driveway (2nd time something like this has happened recently). Have to stop at Princeton Walmart for toll cash, thus purchase an apple for breakfast. Making not great time with all these stops, then, stopping off at Cross Lanes exit at 8 for McDonald’s & gas, then gas again in Columbus & finally picking up Emma just before 11. Quotes from the drive back down to NC:
Me: what’s your horse’s name?
Emma: Moxie because she likes to play! She’s a fantasy horse!
also she says at one point: “we’re in a plain. I know because we’re studying land forms in science class.” (Southern Ohio)
and: “I’ll give you a hint — she was in the Disney Channel movies Camp Rock and Camp Rock 2.” (she wants me to guess who is singing the song snippets she’s playing, a game) (no clue, but it turns out to be Demi Lovato)
Even stranger night in many respects. Dinner & festivities at the Walle house. My parents rented a hotel room in Statesville, so they can hang out with us tonight & then shoot on home down 40 in the morning. I text Mom to say Elaine made eggplant parmesan, & she responds that they will be right over.
But then somehow or other it turns out that my cousin Tonya wants to come over, too. She recently moved to Love Valley (from Kentucky) to be with her boyfriend who was transferred here for work. I haven’t seen her since either Tyson or Cissy’s funeral, I forget which. But anyway they have no car, just one freaking moped between them (interesting factoid about North Carolina in case I haven’t mentioned this before: I don’t know if this is their specific situation but you don’t need a driver’s license to tool around on the roads on a moped in this state. This makes them highly popular with DUI recipients around here, and they are therefore nicknamed “liquor-cycles”) (as in rhyming with bicycle).
Anyway, since it will take them all night to make it here by moped even just from Love Valley, we work out an arrangement where I’m going to meet them at the Signal Hill Mall, after the boyfriend’s mom drives them that far in her car. Initially I was going alone so Mom called them with my car description, but then Dad “reluctantly” got involved, i.e. I think he just wanted to be in the mix, and volunteered that he and I go in his truck instead. So then Mom called again with a revised vehicle description.
We’re idling in his truck at Signal Hill, in front of IHOP, listening to his Xmas mix CD that I made him. He’s complimenting me on the sonic quality being improved from past efforts. One little beat up car zips past us, but it’s not them, even though I’m joking about how that looks like a Galion car, & we continue to wait. At least 15 minutes go by, & we’re singing Welfare Time (made up on the spot) to the tune of Tulsa Time.
Finally, they arrive — it was that initial beatup little car. Even though we’d stood in the kitchen listening as Mom told that guy’s mom, who was driving, that we would be in this truck instead, and she said okay, it turns out she didn’t actually hear or understand that message. So they were looking for my car. But whatever. Tonya & her new boyfriend climb in, the mom leaves. There’s some kind of scandal going on in that Tonya’s husband is in KY with the kids but they’re split up now & she’s down here with this guy, but we’re not supposed to tell Allie.
Tonya’s boyfriend, Chester, seems friendly enough. He says everyone calls him Baldy. I don’t know what’s going on, it’s a weird situation. But they seem calm & lucid, they don’t give off a druggie vibe or anything. And Tonya appears to be in cheerful spirits overall.
Back at the Walle house, they are very nervous and shy about accepting some eggplant parmesan & one beer apiece. Then those two & Mom & I hang out in the garage, with the door open, telling stories & laughing. Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Dad is hitting it off with Tom & Elaine. “I didn’t know you people were so much!” he says.
My folks wind up driving Tonya & Baldy back to Love Valley at the end of the night.
December 29
Emma, McKayla, and McKenzie have a play date. Emma keeps singing at the top of her lungs.
McKenzie- “you sure like to sing”
Emma- “the reason we came here is there’s cats at our house, and you’re allergic to cats”
McKenzie- “couldn’t you like, put them in a room or something?”
Emma- “are you gonna play mermaids or not?”
(one conversation among many)
December 30
Emma & I are playing this strange hodgepodge with ever evolving rules that’s sort of a cross between volleyball, basketball, and soccer. Basically in its final incarnation it involves Emma jumping up & down on the bed, me on the ground on the other side of the room, while we kick/hit this giant purple ball around. If it comes to rest at all on your half, the other person gets a point. The game abruptly ends, however, when I dive for the ball and slam into a corner of her dresser, opening up this huge gash on my left side. I’m out of breath but actually fine with continuing, but Emma must be spooked or something and says we should play tomorrow in the yard.
