The Big Apple

The last time I was in NYC, it was to see the tree at Rockefeller Center with Susan. The trip was notable because I managed to hit the Lincoln Tunnel: it was sunny, and as we exited the tunnel I was swapping to my prescription sunglasses. A tire brushed the Jersey barrier which was fastened down with protruding spikes, which kind of ruins the point of a Jersey barrier: it ripped a hole in my tire and I had to change it while squeezed onto the shoulder.

That was in the mid-Nineties. No further visits to see What Rudy Hath Wrought, until Sue expressed a desire to see the famed Disney Store in Times Square, surely a magnificence that  exceeded the massive one at Disney World. We picked a weekend with two criteria: she had to be off that weekend, and it had to be between storms. As it happened, it started snowing as we left the city, but that's neither here nor there.

Sue was underwhelmed by the whole experience. Back in the days before I drove, I used the Port Authority Bus Terminal a lot, Greyhounding from New London and catching the locals to home in NJ. Or I'd take the Amtrak to/from New London, and walk between the PABT and Penn Station. Sometimes I'd stroll around for a bit. So, I had the basic area down; it's the easy section of town, with everything clustered together and the avenues and streets in the basic grid. We drove from Connecticut, stopping for brunch at 10:00 AM. Sue wasn't really hungry, but I knew if we waited and she had a pretzel or something in the city, she wouldn't want dinner. Her two goals were to see the Disney Store, and have a meal in a Real New York Deli. If she could have convinced me to drive to Brooklyn or Coney Island (the "old country" of her parents) we would have gone there for dinner.

We took the Lincoln Tunnel to the PABT, avoiding any hard objects at the sides of the road, and parked there at about 1:00 PM: it was easiest, and I wasn't going to drive in circles to save a few bucks.

Out into the streets: they were pretty clear, snow-wise, except for piles of slush at every corner. I was impressed at the absence of the X-rated shops, and the pedestrian sections of the square. So, okay, points for improvements. It was still crowded, and I hate crowds, but we worked our way north, pausing to snap photos of the New Year's ball. We went right past the Disney store: the facade is impressive from across the street, but the entrance itself is just a pair of doors, and we didn't notice the signs above our heads. We went up 7th Avenue and finally cut across to Broadway and back, asking Elmo and SpongeBob for directions outside the M&M store. From that side of the street we could see our goal.

The Disney Store was Not Too Much.

Narrow, filled with standard Disney stuff. The employees were standard-issue nice and friendly. Sue had expected more from the website descriptions and the wide-angle photos. She (after much waffling) got a NYC-themed Disney T-shirt. I explained how expensive Times Square real estate was, but she was still disappointed. We then schlepped up to F.A.O. Schwartz, which was quite a bit bigger, and looked around. It was then getting dark, and we headed back to the Carnegie and Stage Delis. Sue checked out the menus (I had previewed them from home, and warned her how large the sandwiches were, and expensive) and, as predicted, decided she wasn't that hungry and it was too much to spend. We saw down a side street one of the Famous Famiglia pizzerias which for reasons unknown had a branch in Maitland, FL, in the plaza next to where I was living in the late 80s, and also in Groton, CT, since under new management. I was tempted...

Arriving back at the Port Authority, it was getting cold and flurrying, and Sue wanted to leave. It was after 5:00 PM, and it cost us $28.00 (!!!!) for parking. I had thought of going up an avenue to the Cross-Bronx for the sight-seeing, but decided, nah, just get out of there through NJ. Sue wanted the scenic route, though, so off we went. The scenery was mainly rows of cars buried in snow from the plows-- evidence of how you don't need a car in NYC, and also of how valuable a parking spot is. We finally made it to Connecticut, where we had a late dinner in West Haven and on to home.

Verdict: bleah. She wants to go to Coney Island when the weather is nicer to visit relatives, but otherwise Sue is unimpressed with the glamour of the Big City. Fine by me.

My First Car

My FIL just passed around an email showing some automobiles from the 1950s.  I replied with the following:

My first car, inherited from my grandmother, was a 1966 Chevy II (AKA Nova).  This is her with her new baby.

4-door, straight-six engine with the vaunted 2-speed Power-Glide automatic transmission.  On the highway it was like driving in passing gear.

I got a lot of offers from mechanics-- even a sedan was valued for racing.  I learned to work on cars on it: it was dirt-simple, power nothing, no A/C and you could climb into the engine compartment.  It was considered a compact car, but I could roll my 10-speed bicycle into the back seat.  I can only get my bike into my current minivan if I take out all the seats.

I remember when I took out the AM radio and put in a AM/FM stereo cassette player.  No way could I get it to fill the gaping hole left by the radio, so I just braced it and it hung there in the dash.  To put in the speakers on the deck behind the rear seats was an adventure: nowadays the deck is plastic, or cardboard with a few metal braces.  In this car it was thick sheet steel, with a zig-zag fold from one side to the other to stiffen it.  I had to use a jigsaw from underneath in the trunk, with the shavings falling in my face, through the fold, and then file to fit.  What a chore.  Sounded nice, though.

When I traded it in on a used 1982 Trans-Am, it was at Valenti's in Mystic.  As I was driving it into the dealer for the last time, someone was leaving-- in a 1966 Chevy II wagon!  He gave me a big grin and wave, and I felt like a heel, a traitor.  I got over it, though: mmm, but that Trans-Am was nice!

Knock, Knock, Knockin'

I was feeling tired leading up to the long Memorial Day weekend, and by Sunday was panting for breath just standing up to walk to the next room. Must be some bug, that will go away if I just rest, huh? Memorial Day I did nothing but sit in my La-Z-Boy. Just getting up to pee was a major event-- being a Type-II diabetic I pee often, and I would stand there with my head spinning and heart racing. Tuesday I stayed home from work, and finally I got the hint when I threw up some bright red blood. Ah-ha! Bleeding ulcer! So *that's* why I was shitting this black goo (oh, yeah, that's what digested blood looks like: now I remember). So when Sue got home she drove me to the clinic (the bloody sink really impressed her). Thinking I might pass out, I told Sue to tell them I had an ulcer and needed blood. The clinic doesn't do blood. Hunh. They sent me right over to the hospital via ambulance.

At the hospital I went straight to ICU where they gave me four units, did an endoscopy, and patched up some severe bleeding in my stomach. I put off going to the hospital for so long I almost bled to death. The doctor later told me that it was one of the longest endoscopys he had done in 30 years; I was coming out of the sedative they give you (no anaesthetic) towards the end-- not pleasant.

They were poised for emergency surgery the next morning because the doctors weren't sure they plugged all the holes, but they had. The remainder of the time until Sunday --two days in ICU, four days in a private room-- they spent pumping blood back into me-- nine units total! --and checking to see that my blood count was going up as it should: checking for leaks, as it were. The long time in hospital was due to it not going up as they expected, but neither was it going down as if I were bleeding. They finally let me go home, with me feeling fine and out of ICU from Thursday on, just lying and sitting around the hospital room. I finished a large book, and enjoyed looking out all week on the bright sunshine. The day I was released, it poured rain. Figures.

I actually went back in for an overnight: I was released on a Sunday, and beginning on about Tuesday my legs/ankles/feet were swelling up: I was retaining water. I called my doctor and he had me come in, and he gave me a high-powered diuretic to take Thurs/Fri/Sat and come see him again Saturday. It was like turning on a tap at first-- peeing every five minutes. Finally died down but I was still up every 20 minutes: hard to sleep (I had the same issue during my hospital stay, once they restored my fluids). The swelling went down: between visits to the Doc, Thursday to Saturday, I lost 25 pounds in water! The overall hospital stay I lost for real about 20 pounds.

So now the swelling is gone, but I am beginning to feel dizzy standing up again Sunday night and Monday morning. Am I still bleeding internally? No other symptoms, but better safe than sorry: Sue drove me to the emergency room Monday morning; I was dizzy and sweating profusely but still ambulatory. They did a blood test and I was down, way down, on potassium, and my other levels were screwed up, too: between the transfusions and the diuretic, I was AFU. So they kept me overnight (had to share a room this time) and pumped me full of fluids again. Since then I've been okay, but taking plenty of iron pills while I build up my red blood cells.

I went for a follow-up endoscopy a couple months later: nothing. They see an old, healed ulcer, and this current one is healed. Nothing to indicate a cause, no tumor, nada. I'm still on stomach pills, but that's it: goodbye, have a nice day, don't come back. Go figure.

Scribendi Cacoethes

I have lots of things to post about. I compose marvelous essays on many topics, but when it comes time to set them down I run out of time. Tonight I have Things To Do, and I have to get up a bit earlier than usual in order to drop my car off at the shop (safety inspection for buying out my leased car, and timing belt replacement). There's another topic for you.

I will give up most of the political stuff (after all, I have been so verbose on it lately), and just tell the none of you that read this about my daily life and the random thoughts that cross my mind.

I can bore you with the thrilling saga of my Recent Brush With Death, via an upper GI (gastro-intestinal) bleed-- procrastination on my part carried out until I almost bled dry, literally. My adventures with my PC: I am having a Mac thrust upon me. And more!

Stay tuned...