Time warp

It’s a beautiful day at Mike Martin Field at Dick Howser Stadium, which is where I am at the moment. In a weird, internet-connects-all world, I landed a one-time freelance gig to cover the Rhode Island-FSU game for a RI newspaper.

I haven’t covered a sports story since the 2007 Detroit Shock

I’m only slightly daunted. I guess I am a reporter at heart. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.

The RI team has its ace in, but realistically, FSU is No. 1 in the country and unless they totally muck it up – which is entirely possible – the Rams will walk out of here 0-for-No.1 series in their last three years.

The story is going to be how they’re preparing for their conference run, tackling the No. 1 team and all that. Hopefully it comes together quickly. There’s no immediate deadline pressure but it’s not like a feature with the Wings a gamer for the Tigers where I can get the information at the next skate or from someone else in the pressbox if I don’t think to get it.

The Rams have lost both games so far in this series, but in the bottom of the second so far, they’re the stronger looking team. It’s early, though.

Anyway, as much as I’ve looked forward to this, it’s not the week’s highlight. I finally caught up with Leila and her family yesterday. This includes her mom, who, I should add, looks fabulous these days.

She’s got a raised bed garden in Leila and Chip’s backyard and it’s growing quickly. They set it up six weeks ago and man, it’s so much healthier than Daddy’s corn right now. The difference between composting and having trees, I guess. One adds nutrients; the other takes them away. No real surprises if you think about it.

But it was just so good to see Leila and hang out with them. Riley is such a cutie. It took a bit for her to warm up to me, but I got a big kiss when I went to leave.

Chip still makes awesome sweet tea, too.

I was out there several hours but still felt like I had to run home to the puppies. I’m alone with them this weekend and man, it’s been challenging. I’ve also been doing some work for Florida Law Weekly and haven’t been around the house. Rally and Batgirl have been thrilled to see me when I’m there.

Their scratching is driving me nuts. Combined, they don’t weigh 12 pounds, but it’s all flea. Yesterday I got them some Capstar – can you say overpriced? – and it helped but at this point I think they itch out of habit.

Right now, the pups are home alone. So far, I’ve been lucky, but today will b the longest they’ve stayed at the house by themselves. And I could not figure out where Batgirl put the toy you fill with food. I’ve been leaving them with that as I leave and it’s kept them distracted for awhile. But God knows what the girl did with it.

I’m definitely not looking forward to opening that door this evening.

The longest stretch

At the moment, I’m hunkered down in Havana on my longest stretch “home” until I leave for Minot.

I got back after visiting Lafayette (and two Bass & Pro Shops) on Monday, and this week has been all mucked up as a result. I kept thinking it was the wrong day. So confusing when there’s no job to guide your weekends, but it’s not like I’ve had one of those kinds of jobs for awhile anyway.

Telling time is easy, it’s telling day and date that’s complicated.

My big task this week was doing my physical for the State job. I think it’s really more intense than the one for PC, but it really was easier to do.

Much, much easier to do, in fact. For PC, you basically had a ton of forms that said something like, “List every time you ever got sick, tell us how it won’t ever happen again and go to the doctor to have him or her also verify it will never happen again.”

You also had to have a recent eye exam, a dental checkup with complete X-rays and if you had ever been to a specialist, you had to go back to them and essentially get notes promising whatever little thing was wrong will never, ever happen again, so help you God.

So honestly, even though this one consisted of extensive testing that hadn’t been required by PC (such as a chest X-ray and an EKG), it was just so much easier.

Prior to leaving for Louisiana, I went by a Patient’s First to see if they could do it all in one visit and with one bill, and they said they could.

Since the State Department will (allegedly) reimburse me for all costs, I hoped for minimal bills, so I made an appointment there. Since I have no insurance at the moment and no primary care doctor, it seemed like a likely spot.

When I arrived for my appointment, I realized I’d forgotten to ask about one test – it was on a separate page – and when I asked if they could do it, the nurse hesitated. She left, then returned, telling me that while they did offer the test, they couldn’t do it on a walk-in basis on a routine physical.

I said, uh, hold up there. First, I did make an appointment and second, this is NOT a routine physical. I guess they lost sight of that between the sign-in sheet and calling me back. So once that got re-adjusted, everything went OK.

It took forever – like an hour and a half. And it seems so unnecessary, really. I mean, I had to have tests for HIV, HepB and HepC. Beyond the fact I’ve been tested for at least one of those in the last two years, I am at NO risk – not low risk – for two of them, and the other I’ve been vaccinated against.

I see the relevance of needing to be medically cleared worldwide, but hello. What a waste of tax dollars.

And it is your tax dollar at work. The State Department says it will reimburse candidates after their insurance companies pay that share. Well, as I don’t have insurance, my share is a boatload of money.

Going in, I’d tried to mentally add up how much it’d cost and figured on about $600, tops. I hadn’t, however, taken into account the useless-for-me tests, and I honestly don’t know if I’d added up the costs of the other tests correctly.

Even though I am perfectly healthy and have the test results to prove it, I almost dropped dead at the price tag: $1,050.

One thousand fifty dollars. Holy smokes.

I have not yet gotten all the results to send to DC, but you better believe I already sent them money claim. Hello. My American Express is slightly insane right now.

Monday morning, I need to call and verify I’ve submitted the proper paperwork thus far.

It’s just one of a million things I need to do during this long stretch of being in town. I managed to knock off a lot last week but have a bunch left.

Today, however, was pure fun. I visited church for the first time since I’ve been back and saw some of the people I’d met (somewhat briefly) on my last stop in town, then hung out with my niece all afternoon.

Mac and I went to Lake Ella and wandered around, then had ice cream before meeting Barry.

It might be my only shot at seeing Mac while I’m here, so I was really happy to sit on a bench and count turtles and geese with her.

Hopefully I get to do the same with Nic and Zac at some point. My time is short.

Beware the Rajin Cajun

Checking in a little late this week because I’ve been on the road. And still am, actually.

At the moment, I’m sitting in Gray’s house in Louisiana, taking a break from cleaning.

So far, my mom and I haven’t started the real task, which is checking with the doctor to see what the soon-to-be 86-year-old needs as far as supervision goes.

Gray has no idea we know the entire history (which I’ll spare you) of his being checked in on my Elder Care and the resulting fallout. But tomorrow, under the guise of leaving after a short visit, we’re going to run around town and try to check with Elder Care, his doctor and the VA hospital to try to figure out what to do next.

During the visit part, my mom’s been ironing and I’ve been cleaning out Gray’s two freezers, which are so full of outdated food that it’s dangerous.

And I don’t mean in the vein of how-old-is-that-Taco Bell-taco-sitting-on-the-shelf scary only. I mean as in the this-half-pint-of-milk-fell-off-the-shelf-and-cracked-me-on-the-neck-twice-already scary.

I have filled the trash can with stuff that has no business living in the freezer at this date and time. My theory was, if it was around for the last presidential election, it’s being tossed, whatever. I mean, I can see freezing a container marked “grits,” but a container marked “grits 2007,” uh, no.

Honestly, I’ve no idea of how long things can stay in a freezer, but let’s just say I was really leery of a Ziploc of a thing of meat with a “sell by” “date of 2000. And there were multiples of those. I hate to think how much of Somalia I could have fed with what’s in the trash can right now.

And under that layer of soon-to-be-stinky garbage (the trash collector comes Tuesday; I’ll move the can out before I leave tomorrow and hope stray dogs don’t investigate) is a layer or so of old newspapers and magazines, some of which are unopened. I pilfered all I could – Gray tends to get upset when we go through his stuff. Now, I did ask permission before I did all this, but it’s a coin toss as to if he remembers that tomorrow. He’d been known to get a little hot under the collar when we try to clear the clutter.

So tomorrow we try to get paperwork accomplished and then head back, stopping somewhere along the way to crash for the night. It’s really only a nine-hour drive back, but we’re likely not going to get going until noon or after so we might stay in Biloxi or somewhere like that, which will enable me to break up the drive and visit the Bass and Pro Shop, which is always cool.

On the way here, I’d stopped in Pensacola to pick up Zippy, who played in a tournament there. They went undefeated and won the whole thing and we celebrated at a place called Flounder’s. (The celebration was premature, being on Friday when the finals were on Saturday, but it worked.) I had some awesome Gulf grouper, blackened, and finally got to wade in saltwater for the first time in forever. You’d think living in a country of over 17,500 islands I could have made it to a beach, but it didn’t happen.

But the Gulf didn’t disappoint (neither did the grouper) and, while wading, I assisted some little kids catch some crabs. I’m such a bad influence.

This trip is my second since returning, but after this it should slow down. I arrived back in the States on April 2, and left on the 8^th for DC to take that assessment.

That was successful, though not overwhelmingly so. I passed and have advanced to the next step, which is medical. So I’ve now made a doctor’s appointment and am hoping for the best. Glancing at the paperwork – which is all I’ve really done since I’ve been on the go since DC – it doesn’t appear to be as intensive as the medical paperwork for PC.

I have 30 days to do that, and after that the security paperwork kicks in. I’m not looking forward to this. There’s nothing in my history that’s shady or anything, but it’s a lot of paperwork and a lot of questions I have to answer. I think on paper I look like I’m going to be a complicated case – as in, I’ve traveled internationally a lot – but once you actually take a look at it closer it’s really boring. I mean, yes I’ve been to Rome, Cairo and Seoul, for example, but I didn’t overnight during any of those trips. It’s much more exciting on paper.

So those are my next two steps in this process. I’m still not guaranteed a job, but clearing the assessment thing was a big, big one. I’m really relieved for that.

A massive misnomer

Yes, I’m back, but not before I had a GREAT send-off at Bluegrass.

Like I mentioned before, though, “Bluegrass” for that bar was the biggest misnomer since “Barenaked Ladies.” The music was not remotely close to bluegrass, but the burgers were exactly what the doctor ordered in getting re-acclimated to the United States. It was huge and fabulous.

The JG crew gave me an awesome card – drawn by Tim, my neighbor-colleague – with an FSU theme. How cool is that?

We had a fantastic turnout, too – really, all the US/Aussie/NZ and GBers. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.

The next day, I got up before bright and early and headed out. Had no trouble catching a cab, and really, despite the fact the travel day was longer than any other I’ve experienced, it went just fine.

The CAN airport – I still don’t know the city name – was nothing like I’d read. Sure, I couldn’t get free Internet, but they had drinkable water, a pleasant atmosphere and a nice place to curl up and read Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy and eat Polo mints, on which I’d restocked one last time.

Re-entry to the States was typical – a rude border guard. Sheesh. And upon arrival to LAX I learned my bag had been checked improperly and I had to exit the airport and walk the length of what seemed like eight football fields to re-check it, but it really wasn’t that long.

On the flight to LAX, I sat next to this nice guy who was a Cape Town born New Zealander who lived in Perth. He was traveling to Atlanta, too (though not on my flight) and looking at colleges for soccer scholarships. Really nice guy.

The only bumps in my trip were from LAX on. That airport was absolutely packed with late-leaving flights. Mine had been scheduled for 11:50 p.m., but we left late.

I really wish gate agents would be more vigilant about letting people on with huge carry-on bags. They say they have these strict rules, but holy smokes, there were so many let on that did not fit the overhead bins, these people had to deplane, check their bags and then get on again.

As a result, we left late into headwinds and for four hours, I sat and watched the little “arrival” time display get pushed back to where I was pretty sure I had little chance of making my connection.

Once we finally got into Atlanta and deplaned – at Terminal T – I knew a visit to Chick-Fil-A was an impossibility because I had exactly 15 minutes before my flight was scheduled to leave.

Holy smokes. I was hoping it would be late since everyone was late arriving, but the little sign that directed me to Terminal D didn’t mention that.

If you remember the Atlanta airport, you remember that T is before A, and once to A I still had to get through B and C before getting to D, taking a right and running down to gate 42 – when 46 is the last gate.

When I rushed up, fortunately, the gate agent hadn’t shut the door, but he was pulling it shut at that very moment. I pretty much shouted “No! Please wait!” and he looked up and held it for m.e I ran by him, thanking him as I got on. (I’ve since written Delta a thank-you note for him).

Out of breath, I panted to the flight attendant that I knew there was no way in hell my bag would make it but I just didn’t care.

And it didn’t, but it made it on the next flight, which was OK because in between the flights, I wound up going with my mom to Ace Hardware (not at all like the one in Indonesia) to pick up another puppy from Wendy.

Someone had thrown this little pup – Jakarta rats would eat her alive – from a movie car with her brothers and sisters. She’s the only one who made it, and now she’s a feisty monster. We’re calling her Batgirl, and when she and Rally tussle, she sounds like an angry beehive.

My mom thinks I’m taking her to North Dakota, but no way. She’s cold and it’s April in Florida. She can’t weigh two pounds.

On ND, I’ve found out I will be leaving here on June 8. Instead of flying me to Chicago for training, they are just going to have me drive there and then drive on to ND after, which would put my start date at June 18. I can deal with that: I’m ready to get going.

In the meantime, I’m eating. I’ve been out to a meal once a day since I got here. Granny’s Frying Pan twice (once was takeout between yard work), the Tomato Café, Chick-Fil-A (I had a wrap for the first time – those things are big enough for three meals) and Connie’s Ham.

Oh, pig ass. I have missed pork so much.