My truck Jill is thirty six years old. I don't know the formula, but I know one vehicle year is longer than a human year. Say it's just two, Jill would be 72, three she would be 108.
I continue to maintain her as she ages, like I do myself. Buying another vehicle is completely off the table and I need to get around. I need to be able to get to the stores here!
Although, if she dies, I could just say screw it, go on food stamps and use the local ride share services offered by the Senior Center to get to Krogers. I could even have everything delivered.
Jess grabbed some shots of Riley hanging out with his girls, and a visit from his mom and grandma.
His redheaded mom Colleen:
His redheaded grandma Sharon:
I thought I really had my truck in great shape as she purred down to Tampa over Christmas. Then the cold weather hit and white smoke started belching out the tail pipe, and she started running rough.
My boy Riley correctly diagnosed it over the phone as a blown head gasket and my mechanic Thomas just confirmed it this morning.
He pulled up a guide that estimated the job at more then $1750, but he bid it down to $850. I asked if he would make a profit at that point, between him and his helper, and he said barely. We settled at a grand and that could finish off my travel plans.
So tomorrow I'll drop it off at 0800, Thomas and the helper will strip the head down and take it to the machine shop for resurfacing, all back together by Friday afternoon.
Well, it looks like a great visit is about to go down this Summer, between me and my sons Pacific Northwest family, and my amazing grand-daughter Shelby.
We can fly in for a week and enjoy both family and area. I'll show Shelby Seattle. Maybe hook up with some old friends.
I've got some issues to resolve first though. My old truck is running pretty rough, it started when the cold weather hit a couple of weeks ago. And, white smoke is blasting out of the tail pipe.
I told my automotive genius son Riley about it, and his answer was "ahh oh". He suspects a blown head gasket and had me check for a milky fluid in either the radiator fluid or the oil. If the two merge together, I can lose my engine.
They looked alright so I kept my neurology appointment today, 30 miles away. She got me up there and back and I booked a 1000 with my mechanic for tomorrow.
Thomas the mechanic said the recent rain and snow took out the roof of his small shop, and he's basically shut down for a bit, but he'll look at it out front.
I also got some bad news from my neurologist. Looks like my Parkinsons is getting worse and they're not going to continue the drug I've been out of for a month now, which was just for tremors.
Now I'm walking funny and my arms are messed up, so I've got a new heavy duty drug, to be taken three times a day, arriving at Walgreens tomorrow.
It's Carbidopa/Levodopa 25-100mg Tabs, Qty: 270. Apparently Parkinsons destroys dopamine, and this restores it.
Also, as I was driving up there this morning I had a couple sharp chest pains. I mentioned that to my doctor and she made it clear that she wanted no part of that and asked if I needed to go to the ER. I smiled and said no.
So, this is my drama queen post. Poor poor pitiful me. I'm actually not looking for sympathy, just documenting things if I or my truck drop dead.
Daniel's and my poker game was into day three on my table today, but his wife has had him snagged since yesterday, I needed the space, and just tore it down.
Grand-daughter Shelby and I are talking a Seattle trip this Summer, she out of Tampa, me out of Nashville. She's got some Defense business to do, we both have a new baby to meet, and we can stay in their trailer out back.
Shelby's also a travel agent, so I can just leave the arangements to her.
This will probably be my last adventure. I'm running out of money, mobility and ambition. A great trip to hang with my favorite people this Summer, is a perfect way to wind down.
Hey Riley and Jess, plan an event that includes both sides of your families. I would love to see them all again, and introduce them to Shelby!
Update: Can you spot Shelby emanating from the middle, surrounded by two dark haied ladies and a hot redhead?
Something is going on with me, my brain is fading, and I don't even know how to write about it. Daniel thinks it's because I've been off my main Parkinson's drug for more than a month, and I need to go see Amanda up in Columbia for a refill.
Maybe I can just call her office and request a refill? It's not like they need me up there to confirm I still need it!
So I'm down to two meds, morning and evening: Celecoxib for my right shoulder pain and Pramipexole, my other Parkinsons pill.
So, I suppose that's not bad, just four pills a day at the age of 77, with a max of six if I ever get my self together.
I got a craving for an ice cream sandwich and a little chocolate this afternoon, so I drove up the hill to the Dollar General. There was a couple in front of me buying out the place with their teenage daughter, who swore that Kit-Kat was her favorite taste in the world.
As I stood there with the ice cream melting in my hand, I thought about my ex who started working for Dollar General when we moved here five and a half years ago. She has since told me fuck you and disappeared.
And I realize the only feelings I have left from that twenty year relationship is sadness, and anger. For a while there I thought she would contact me and tell me how she landed, I loved her and wished her well, but it never happened.
Now I'm just bitter. I arrived in this place thinking I would have some family and maybe continue a friendship, and just ended up a broken lonely old man on a dead end street.
I have always spoken lovingly here of my many years with Steph, but I'm making it a personal vow to never mention her, or her family, here again.
My friend and next door neighbor Daniel and I have had a poker game going on around my round table for the last two days. We had a phone chat yesterday evening with Erica, our hairstylist, as Daniel made his appointment for this afternoon.
Erica is the stylist lady that both he and I lack in our personal lives. Steph was that woman for me back in Idaho and is long gone now. We can let our heads go to hell and she fixes them when we're ready.
She cuts our hair down to a short stub, shaves our faces and trims our goatees. She gets that hair on the back of our necks, she trims our eyebrows, the hair in our ears and up our nose.
Daniel was late getting to the poker game tonight because he was getting the Erica treatment at the Beauty College. My turns coming up, not sure when, and I am a mess.
Profound thoughts dissolve quickly from my fading scattered mind. I've been working on a good buzz with a good buddy all day, and now he's gone, along with my mind. Drove it right along into the rainy afternoon and now it's in stoned neutral.
I'm accepting the fact that my mind is on the last train to Clarksville, my body has left the station, and it's OK!
I had a great video chat last night with my boy Riley and his family in Washington State. My grand-daughter Ariella now remembers me from Nashville last Summer, and that's very cool.
She was holding the phone and staring into my eyes with a glimmer from hers that said I remember you grandpa!
So I guess I'm OK. I have no love life, just a couple of friends, and family scattered across the country, that I will never see.
I turned the homeless guy away today, and as my lonely night sinks down over me, I know I made the right move.
I look at each major moment of life these days, as either a right or wrong move, never neutral.
My moves have been alright lately. I'm taking the depression of decline, and mellowing it out with vodka and legal smoke.
I look forward to my next day, my next month, my next year. I will give each one all the honesty and integrity I have.
And if I have to close the door on a homeless guy to keep my sanity and integrity, I will.
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