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If you’re in downtown Raleigh Saturday night for the grand reopening of Fayetteville Street, stop by the Wachovia Building lobby between 6pm-9pm. I’ll be performing some improv with a group from ComedyWorx. I’m not exactly sure how the structure will work, but it’s bound to be fun.
Today is Sysadmin Appreciation Day, a time to thank the people who keep your computers going so you can work. So tell your local sysadmin that you appreciate them.
Remember – we can read your mail, so we’ll know if you don’t.
Of my five* grandparents (the four standard biological ones, plus my Mom’s stepmother who was more “family” than a lot of my blood relatives), two died long before I was born, and one died when I was too young to remember. That left me with Mom’s stepmother, “Mema”, and my dad’s mom, “Grandma,” throughout my childhood.
Both of them were relatively well-off into my college years. But, as you get older, especially in this day of extended lifespans without necessarily an extension in life quality, there comes the time when those people of your grandparents’ age start to deteriorate in front of your eyes. Even if you know it’s coming, watching the process unfold on those grandparents who were so much fun when you were a kid is heartbreaking.
Mema went first. She was an independent farm woman who wasn’t slowed one bit by a birth defect that took half of her left arm, a woman who lived alone on the farm for many years after her husband’s death, someone who could still in her 50s sling a rifle over her stump and pick off a snake in the yard. She spent her last several years at the “Annex” at South Hill hospital, a place that just smells of death, hopelessness, and surrender. She spent a good year, I guess, really out of it, not remembering her grandchildren or really much of anything else. She died over Thanksgiving 2000, six months before my wedding. Hayley never saw her.
Grandma has held up a bit better. In spite of eye disease that robbed her of much of her sight, she was still somewhat active and social in a South Hill retirement home. But, much like Mema, her condition has gone downhill rapidly over the past couple of years. I talked to Dad the other night, and he said that her bowels were shutting down and, in accordance with her living will, he wasn’t going to put a feeding tube in. This morning, I got an email from my sister saying “if you want to go see her, now would be a good time.” I took off work and drove up to South Hill, not really looking forward to what I was going to see.
In retrospect, I’m told that I caught her on a really good day. She was frail, hooked up to oxygen tubes and another one going into her nose and somewhere in her body, pulling some blackish stuff out and into a container. She had her eyes closed when I came in, turning uncomfortably. But she did realize that I came in and, after I said hello, said “Is that my grandson? Are you the one from Georgia?” “No Grandma,” I told her, “I’m Wade – I live in Raleigh. Scotty’s the one in Georgia.” She did ask about “the baby,” which was a good sign that she was thinking of the right person.
We managed to have a mostly lucid conversation as she drifted in and out of awareness, her telling me how sick she was, but she was going to fight through it. She kept asking me for juice, which the nurses said she couldn’t have. I did give her water through what looked like an oversized Q-tip, and she would suck on the sponge until she drifted out again – a process that gave me a flashback of her giving me a lolipop as a child. She wanted me to fan her with some paper, so I did, and she would alternate saying “Don’t fan so hard” and “Can you fan me?” She also told me not to cry, because “There are better days ahead.” I tried to agree with her.
Dad met me there and we visited for a few more minutes until Grandma said “Y’all go on home now – you’ve got things to do. Don’t tell anyone I told you to go home.” So we did, letting her get some rest. Talking to my sister, that was apparently a very good day for Grandma, as the last time she went by to visit, Grandma thought she was back at her old house in Hopewell fixing dinner, and that my parents were still married. As broken up as I was on this “good” day, I really don’t know how I would have handled a “bad” one.
I told Grandma to try to get better so that she could come to Thanksgiving dinner at our house, and she said she’d try, but the unsaid truth hovering in the air is that, even if she does manage to make it through this (and her doctor told my Dad “I’ve written her off for dead twice and she’s managed to come back strong, so I’m not making any more predictions.”), she’ll never be outside round-the-clock care again.
Before I left South Hill, I stopped by the less-critical part of the hospital to visit Aunt Allie. Allie is Mema’s sister, so she’s in her 80s, I guess. Her husband, who died a few years ago, used to cut hair in Kenbridge when I was a kid. She’s been reasonably independent, but has had a hard couple of months. I think at the very least she’s had a massive heart attack and kidney failure. She’s pretty mentally with-it, though, recognizing me when she opened her eyes and saw me standing there. And it somewhat surprised me, but they’re talking as if she will go home in a few weeks after therapy. So at least she’s got that to work toward.
It’s tough to watch all of those people, who were always “old” to me, but mobile and vibrant, getting reduced to frail bodies with tubes running in and out. When you’re a child, and the “old people die,” it’s pretty much that they’re just not around any more one day. But much like eating the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, as you grow up to take on the responsible adult role, it’s with the tradeoff of learning exactly what happens when you outlive your quality of life. And if that doesn’t sober you up, Bucko, you’re not paying attention.
Grandma may pull through again this time, or she may just kind of sputter out, somewhat aware of how her body is betraying her. If it’s her time, we’ll all be sad, but I’ll be glad when she finds her peace. And it will be with the sad knowledge that, in a decade or two, the roles will shift, and I’ll be the one dealing with the pain of watching my parents deteriorate, while Hayley is in my role of sadly thinking “I hate to see my grandparent like this,” and learning her life lesson.
I think I need to go to bed. It’s been a long day.
Update 7/28: It’s a good thing I went up on Wednesday. Grandma died peacefully in her sleep at around 9am this morning. She’ll be missed, but I’m very glad her suffering is over.
The big news is that we got a closing date on the new house recently – we’re currently scheduled to close on Friday, August 11. That’s oh, let me check the calendar, AAAAH! Two weeks away! We haven’t packed anything!
Well, we have a little bit of a cushion because, assuming that there are no delays and we do make the August 11 closing date, we’ll be moving the following Wednesday. That should give us time to go do anything we need at the new house, haul some stuff over there that the movers can’t or shouldn’t carry, and finish our packing.
Will the house be ready in two weeks (we do our “walkthrough” two weeks from today)? It’s certainly possible. I went by the house this evening and, for the first time in a while, there were no workers there. The doors were locked, but once again, the windows weren’t, so I managed to get inside.
New since last time? You can check the Flickr photoset, but the big things are:
However, there’s still a bit to be done:
So there are still some significant details yet to be done. Given the speed they’ve been going, it’s certainly doable, but there’s probably not a lot of room in the schedule for delays. I should probably check with the builders next week to make sure we’re still on schedule.
I got the second half of my Stanley Cup bet prize in the mail yesterday, after the week of seeing Mike’s blog in Hurricanes colors. True to his word (not that there was ever any doubt), Mike came through with a box of “Canadian Stuff” as a prize.
Included in the box were:
Thanks, Mike! That was a great selection of things (though Hayley has already claimed the stickers and Holly is scared of the candy). We might have to do it again on December 6.
The dust seems to have settled on the Hurricanes offseason moves, so it’s time to check them out and see what’s what.
Much like in 2002, Jim Rutherford has kept most of his team together, even after saying he thought he made a mistake doing that back then. That’s somewhat surprising considering the raises some players took home.
Who’s out? Martin Gerber has gone to Ottawa. His departure was expected, since he wants to start and he wasn’t going to knock the Conn Smythe winner out of our net barring injury. He had a good season with us, and it’s probably in his best interest to move on.
Doug Weight went back to St. Louis in another expected move, since he had “Rent-A-Player” written all over him. Still, he did what he was traded to do, and helped us get the Cup.
Matt Cullen and Aaron Ward both went to the Rangers. I was sorry to see them go – Cullen really took to his role in Carolina and had a career season, though I’m not sure if he was worth $2.8M a season. Ward’s a very likeable guy and involved in the community, and really came into his own as a defensive leader. He’s keeping his offseason home in Raleigh, so I wouldn’t be surprised to see him join the Canes broadcast team after he retires. Again, though, $2.8M for him is also steep.
Mark Recchi hasn’t re-signed anywhere, but I don’t expect him to come back to us.
Who’s in? Two new faces. First, John Grahame comes over from Tampa to back up Wardo. He had a rough season in Tampa and went into the doghouse, but has played for Laviolette before, so there’s a familiarity there. $1.4M/year isn’t a bad price for a qualified backup. The other new guy is former Blue Jacket Trevor Letowski, who could be another Matt Cullen-type versitile player (wing and center) for a cheap price ($800k). We’ve also signed a former Thrashers prospect for Albany, and will probably make a few more moves to shore up the minors.
Who’s getting paid? Lots of people. Rod Brind’Amour signed a 5-year deal paying around $4M a year. That’s a long deal for a guy in his mid/late 30s, which raises some eyebrows. However, he’s proven his value as a two-way player and team leader, and if anyone can keep fit as they get older, it’s Brindy. So I’m not too worried about that. Joining him at the top of the pay scale are Eric Staal ($4M), Erik Cole ($4M), and Justin Williams ($3.5M). There’s your core offensive group right there, locked up for 3 or more years. While it’s a lot of money, we’re not talking a Tampa-like situation where half your salary cap is blown on three guys. Cole is probably the most suspect one, coming off a broken neck and still questionable as to the injury, but he’s also one of the most popular guys on the team and someone who has earned his money.
Another guy getting more than his market value due to his contributions in Nic Wallin. Is he worth $1.7M? Probably not in pure dollar-per-value terms, but he’s an ultimate clutch performer and steady defensive anchor, so it’s hard to fault the guy.
Glen Wesley came back at a one-year deal, shocking the hell out of me. I was sure he was going to do a Jerome Bettis and go out on top. I don’t know if he’s physically up for another season, so I’m somewhat down on this move.
So the team ends up at around $38M on a self-imposed $40M budget (cap is $44M), which gives room for more Rent-A-Player moves if we find ourselves in contention again next year. Unlike 2002, where we retained a group of players who got lucky and trapped their way into the finals, I think we’ve locked up a core of guys who can excel in the new NHL for several years. I don’t anticipate another dropoff next year with guys like Staal, Stillman, Cole, Williams, and Brind’Amour still playing. I don’t know if another Cup is in the cards (history would say no), but I think we’ll be competitive all year.
As for me, I’m splitting a season ticket with John Fowler, so I should be going to about half of the games next year. Woot!
The 2006 World Cup is over, and I paid more attention to it this year than I had in years past (of course, I hadn’t paid any attention to it in years past), trying to be a good World Citizen and appreciate the largest event in the Most Popular Sport In The World.
What was good about it? The play wasn’t as bad as I’d remembered soccer being in the past, enough to keep me mostly interested during the game. For all the flack the US television announcers took, I thought they did a decent job explaining the game to a group of people (Americans) who don’t really care or know anything about soccer. And it was a lot of fun sitting in the hotel bar in Chicago with a bunch of Brits and watching the England victory, so I can see how the pub-environment communal experience could be a great part of the culture.
What was bad? I know, I know, fans of the Most Popular Sport In The World really aren’t interested in any feedback from an American who just Doesn’t Get It, but there are things that I noticed watching the tournament that were relevant to me, as someone who doesn’t find soccer very interesting.
I think I realized my biggest problem with soccer. People always talk about the low-scoring games, but it’s not so much the lack of scoring per se – I watch hockey, and you can see 1-0 or 2-1 low-scoring games there pretty easily. It’s the lack of scoring chances that turns me off. The entire game seems to be designed to be played in the middle 20% of the field. True attacks seem to be rare – so many people hang back protecting their goal that you end up with large mismatches against the offensive team, and goalies seem to only have to make a handful of saves per game. Contrast that with hockey where you may get the same 2-1 score, but the goalies will have made 30+ saves by the end. The soccer strategy seems to be to kick across the box and, 9 times out of 10, a defender will get a head on the ball and send it away, but that one time that the ball goes toward the goal is considered a win.
Another thing is the slow speed of the game. Again, I’m probably spoiled by hockey, but it seems like everything is just going in slow motion. I certainly respect the conditioning of a soccer player to go 90+ minutes running around, but it takes ages for a play to develop. Couple that with the aforementioned “pull everyone back around the goal to defend” tactics, and it seems to be near-impossible to get any sort of sustained offensive pressure before the ball is flying back to midfield. Plus, in spite of the conditioning, the players are dead by the end of the game. You only get three substitutions during a game, which doesn’t help matters. The dead-tired players seem to be playing not to lose, instead of playing to win, which is fairly boring. Maybe the answer is to allow more substitutions to keep fresh players out there more often.
One thing that started off amsuing but quickly became embarassing was the diving by the players. Holy hell, you’d think there were snipers on the roof the way players would drop during a game, writhing around as if they’d just suffered a forced amputation. Then you’d see a replay that showed little to no contact before the seizure. Stretchers would come out onto the field multiple times a game, cart players off, and they’d be back good as new a few minutes later. It reminded me of a child throwing a temper tantrum until they saw that the parent (or ref) wasn’t looking, then they’d get up, move into the line of sight, and do it again.
There was a discussion on ISCABBS in the World Cup forum about the comical levels of diving. Several diving apologists tried to put forth the argument that diving is “just part of soccer culture – you embellish to try to draw the foul, and it’s expected.” I’m not buying it – it’s embarassing. It’s probably also more obvious after watching things like Kevyn Adams break two bones in his wrist blocking a shot in Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals, wince, and play the rest of the game, then seeing a grown man flopping on the grass like a fish after getting bumped. Even the “shocking headbutt” in the final game looked like something you’d see in pro wrestling – a weak headbutt that knocks a guy out like he’d been hit with defibriliation paddles. Part of the diving issue seems to be cultural, and part of it seems to be that there aren’t enough refs to watch the whole field and keep an eye on obvious dives.
So it was interesting to watch – it wasn’t as boring as I’d remembered it, but the game still has too many things that just don’t appeal to me for me to really care about it. Maybe in another four years I’ll reevaluate.
A plan that was over a year in the making was finished today. A little over a year ago, I had the idea to work up custom ComedyWorx hockey jerseys, as a cool collector’s item and something fun to wear. I pitched it to the group, and the reception was lukewarm at best, so I dropped the plan.
This year, though, with the Hurricanes success, I brought up the project again, resolving to get enough interested people and make the order with whoever wanted to come on, even if I just ended up getting one for myself. I don’t know if it was hockey fever or the pitch I made, but I ended up with 12 orders, counting myself, which was more than I thought I’d get. I placed the order about a month ago, and the jerseys arrived in the mail today!
Big thanks to the guys at Big Stick hockey jersey company up in Toronto for putting the order together. They did a great job and were a pleasure to work with. So if you need hockey jerseys, I highly recommend them.
Look for these jerseys on fashionable improv performers everywhere.
I hadn’t written about the new house in a while, but the big news is that the drywall was done by the weekend of June 26. That’s when I stopped by with the camera and found that within the span of a week, the drywall had been completely hung, with the possible exception of a couple of sheets in the garage. In addition, the siding on the house was finished (again with the exception of a couple of weird holes that looked like damaged pieces had been removed.
The guideline that the builders had given us was “Once the drywall is in, the house is about six weeks away from completion.” I asked the lady in the sales office (who was surprised that we were as far along as we were), said “Yeah, it should be six to eight weeks, but don’t be surprised if it’s longer.” When I asked her why it would be longer than that, and she didn’t have an answer for me. So we’ll see.
I went by yesterday afternoon (without the camera). The only noticable updates were that the mantelpiece and slate is up around the fireplace, the HVAC and water heater are installed, the circuit breaker box looks like it’s quasi-done, and all the interior doors have been delivered and are sitting in the garage. Oh, and they’ve graded and framed out the area were the driveway and sidewalk will go, so they’re just waiting on the concrete to be poured there.
Progress!
We made 20 more jars of blackberry jam today, and barely touched the bucket we picked tonight (used up the berries from last week). And there were still a ton more on the vines that I’m letting fatten up a bit more.
That’s a lot of blackberries.