Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Today I’m going to do something stupid and talk about my family on my podcast. This involves moving my father to a long term health care. I live an hour north west of my father and brother. Instead of going with the location I found that was about half way between the two of us, I went with a location that was an additional 30 minutes in the wrong direction. This means that if I want to see my father I have to drive an hour and a half.

He called on Wednesday and asked for my opinion on moving Dad 90 minutes away from my house, and I said “that will not work, you are going in the wrong direction.” There are tons of places that are between the two of us, or worst case scenario, it if was by his house (that would be an hour away). So on Wednesday I explained how this was absolutely not going to work, and on Friday my brother (having power of attorney) moved him there anyway. This is not only further away from me, its further away from everyone in the city where my Dad lives.  I’m not sure how I’m not supposed to be offended. I’m not sure how I’m not supposed to feel invisible, small, and insignificant. So for probably the first time in 30 years, I’m mad at my brother.

When I visited the “wonderful” site my Dad was moved to. It’s a very nice place, but not that really different from the place that was 40 minutes from my house. The biggest difference was paint. It didn’t look so much like a hospital. It had hospital beds, people in nurses uniforms, wheelchairs, etc, but the walls were beige and green instead of white. So I’m driving an additional 50 minutes for a fashion choice. Don’t get me wrong, its a great facility with a talented loving staff – that just so happens to be 90 minutes from my house.

It’s hard to stay mad at my brother (and I won’t). You see:

My brother was the person was running behind balancing the bike the first time I rode without training wheels

My brother was the person who taught me the immortal phrase “lets go piss” which my mother did not find amusing coming from her four year old.

My brother showed how to play some cords on the guitar.

He was the person who helped me fix my first car.

Took me to my first concert

Bought me my first baseball glove

Was the person who insisted I move in with him when I got divorced/bankrupt

Said it was ok to continue living in his house while I got my second degree.

My brother stood by me at both my weddings

Is the only person on the planet who knows what its like to have Dad as a dad, and my sister as a sister.

He is the person who helped me when I got my first house, first car, first guitar, first girlfriend, first……

So I’ve learned my brother isn’t perfect and he made a bad decision. Its partially my family’s fault. When my Dad went into the hospital we should’ve been looking for a place for him to rehab, but we waited instead 9so we didn’t have the luxury of time to find other alternatives).

So I’ve been here. I’m mad at my brother. So this is what it feels like? OK. Time to put it down. I will… eventually.

Music in this Episode

Mad at You by Joe jackson

No Respect – Extreme

Tags: Family Fued, Nursing Home

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

It’s funny when you have young kids. How do they get your attention when they are hungry? They scream and cry. You can shake keys at them, put on Barney (or whatever the latest kid tv is), bounce them on your knee and NOTHING matters unless you solve their one problem: THEY’RE HUNGRY.

This week my father was disgnosed with Colon cancer. It’s a scary place to be and a scary situation to live through. The first night in the hospital, my father had gone through a few tests and he thought they had removed his giant tumor. They hadn’t.  What happened was they did a biopsy, and we needed to wait till the next day to get the results.

I had been telling my wife how you can’t tell me Dad what to do. At 80 years old he knows everything, and nothing will get in his way. He once walked 3 miles to the grocery store. Luckily a friend saw him at the store and gave him a ride home (he hadn’t thought throw how he was going to carry the groceries home).

After visiting him at the hospital that first night, we only made it to the parking lot before Dad had removed his IV, and was preparing to “break out” of the hospital. I turned to my wife and said, “Welcome to the world of my Dad.”

We went back to the hospital, and tried to explain to Dad that there was a tumor still inside him. Thankfully my wife still had her nurses uniform on, and she talked some sense into him. He just wanted to eat. He wanted food, and was not going to stop until he got some.

So there I was with the roles reversed, with a better grip on the “big picture” than my Dad did. I was explaining what to do, and why these actions were what was best for him. Much like a teenager, he thinks he knows everything.

He goes in for surgery on Tuesday, and the road after that will be long and hard. There is no manual for this (except the bible), and it’s going to be tough. No human likes change, and nobody likes getting older, or hearing that they “Can’t” do (insert task here) anymore.

Luckily my wife has lived through this (she onced worked at a nursing home, and obsviously deals with all sorts of situations being a nurse) so she has already been a huge help, but none the less this role reversal will be like a new pair of shoes. They may fit, but they’re not comfortable and will take some breaking in

Tags: parents and kids, role reversal

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Today I talk about a lovely trip to Chicago where we stop at a Burger King to get something to drink. When we go back to the to the car only to find our GPS missing.

We noticed the homeless guy near my car, and like my GPS he was also gone.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that all homeless people are thieves, and con artists. You should donate to those organizations that help the homeless.This way we know the money is being (hopefully) used for good.

Today’s sponsor

Looking for love? I found my wife online. You can to and get a great deal at

www.Perfectmatch.om/dave

Tags: Con Artists, Homless, Liars

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

I will turn 45 in a little less than two weeks (Feb 8th). I’m starting to feel like Andy Rooney. I heard a song by George Hrab called “When I was Your Age” and it inspired part of this episode. Looking back at my life here are some thoughts:

Every phone had a chord on it. The phone RANG. There were no ring tones.

Movies were about $5 and if you didn’t see it at the movies you waited till it came on TV. There was no way to rewind or pause. If you had to do something you had to wait until a commercial came on.

Cars ran on leaded gasoline.

Speaking of Gasoline, the air was dirty and the sex was clean. Well, it wasn’t lethal anyway

I barely, I mean barely remember black and white TV.

Captain Kangaroo was cool. Mr. Rogers was not.

Ernie was my favorite muppet, but looking back I wonder if Burt was his “partner.”

Saturday mornings were spent with Bugs and Friends, and School house rock (educational TV, what a thought).  I would have a bowl of Captain Crunch, or Quisp, or Frankenberry.

I remember when we left the cool new “video game” PONG on without turning off the TV and it burned the final score into the screen. It was so much cooler than playing pinball.

I was the only kid in first grade who knew who Jimi Hendrix was when he died.

Nixon was president and Ali was champ, and you could catch “The Johnny Carson show” (as I called it) at 11:30 for a large part of my childhood. In my opinion, Ali is still the champ.

I remember listening to top 40 music on AM radio through the one speaker in dash board of my mom’s Plymouth duster. None of the words were bleeped out.

I remember hooking up a CB radio in my bedroom with the antenna going out the window. On occasion I could talk to my friend at the end of the street. (ancient version of text messaging?).

I road my bike everywhere. No hill was too tall. I’m not sure how, but my Mom didn’t seem to care that I was gone most of the day. There was no way to reach me. If I was going to be late, I would use a pay phone. I had to be home when the street lights came on.

To this day, I never understood how 8-track tape players got popular. They sounded awful, didn’t play right, and often fell apart.

I still have two containers of 45 records, and over 400 LPs. I haven’t listened to a single one in about 4 years. I still have a turn table, but nothing to plug it into (and yet I will not throw them away).

I am noticing that more and more of my sentences begin with “these kids of today…”

I remember life before Google when everyone had a set of encyclopedias.

While I vowed as a child to never grow up to be like my Dad, I hear more and more of his words coming out of my mouth directed at my children. He’s kind of cranky and will turn 80 in June. That scares the crap out of me.

While I use to be able to get away without wearing my glasses, things are really getting blurry now. The bad news unless I get surgery, my eyesight is only to get worse. That’s right: this is as good as its going to get.

When I was a kid, if I got pudgy a growth spurt would come along and take of it. I’m still in need of another growth spurt.

When I was a kid the word “sucks” was a curse word (it insinuated oral sex).

There was no attention deficit, and ADHD, and ADXKYMGT (etc) kids. If you were hyper, you got detentions. If you continued, you got paddled. My ninth grade Algebra teacher flung  an eraser at a student who was sleeping in class. There were no guns, no metal detectors, and in general we all attempted to pay attention.

When I was in school there was honor roll (GPA 3.5 and above) and Merit Roll (GPA 3.0 – 3.5). Today there is no Merit Roll, and the honor Roll is 3.0 and above. And yet people want to argue about the “dumbing of America.” We also kept score. There was a loser and a winner. Both experiences had lessons to be learned.

A dirty fight in high school was if someone brought a bat. It only happened once, and we were all so shocked it never happened again.

I remember at McDonald’s when I graduated from the hamburger, and could actually eat a Big Mac. There were no super sizes. I think there were small and large fries. No one would even think about eating two big macs in one sitting. We would eat McDonald’s every Thursday before Mom went bowling. I enjoyed dunking my fries in my milk shake. Today if I eat a big mac, I spend the next hour clearing my throat and feeling awful.

There might have been one person who got pregnant (we understood the concept of a condom, and feared disappointing our parents). Now there are day cares at the high schools. Girls are congratulated when they get pregnant at age 16, and told “you’re are so lucky.”

I have seen parenting traded in for friendship. I have also seen children with fewer manners, less respect for adults, and a general shrinking of the time when children are “innocent.” My parents dragged me to church. I didn’t always want to go, but I’m glad they did. I never would’ve survived my Mother’s Death without my faith. There are no teenagers at my church because the parents want to be “friends” with their kids, and they let them call the shots.

I knew all my neighbors growing up. I can’t name a single neighbor on my street. That’s sad.

I have seen Americans grow larger (myself included). When I was 25, “That was the year” that I was going to get in shape. When I was 30, THAT “Was the year” I was going to get in shape. Well I’m turning 45 in 12 days (February 8th) and THIS IS THE YEAR that I get in shape. You see as you get older your muscles shrink, and losing weight will only get harder – unless I take steps to keep the muscles I have and build new ones.

I’m turning 45, and my wife jokingly says I’m half way to dead. We’ve come along way. I’ve witnessed black and white TV to the space shuttle. While technology is supposed to enhance our lives, I feel nothing is more enhancing than having my family around a table at dinner. Nothing competes with someone saying “I love you.” I feel nothing recharges my batteries than my faith in God. I truly believe that freedom can come through the discipline of teaching our children right from wrong. That takes courage. They will hate you for about 10 years, but when they turn 25 and have children of their own they will thank you.

The first 45 years were good. The second 45 are going to be great (if I can just remember where I put my glasses).

Tags: Dave Jackson, Growing Older, Turning 45