Honey-Do.

Up at mom and dad's. Had an eventful trip up here last night, spent the two-hour drive testing the limits of my sanity, as well as the limits of my beloved Bose stereo system in the truck. "Clearing my head" usually works best with angry rock music and unsafe speeds ... but for some reason, my head is still muddled like mint leaves in the mojitos pitcher.

Mom's in the hospital, they have already poked and prodded her enough for three lifetimes this morning. They are discussing putting a port in her neck to deliver medicines, and putting her on an injectible regimen of RA / Lupus drugs (the diseases and treatments are similar). My dad is surviving OK, I think in a strange way he's coping with everything by making me believe that he's enjoying being able to watch bass fishing shows without interruption. Now, keep in mind that I am now "city-fied" and didn't even know that you COULD watch fishing shows on TV. Hmm. Learn something new every day, I guess.

My dad (affectionately known in my circles as "The Glennster") is really a pretty quiet guy. He really doesn't say too much, but when he does, it's either totally profound or completely hysterical. Here's a quick synopsis of our conversation over a bass-fishing show this morning ... BACKSTORY: I'm not fucking kidding you, this guy was bass fishing, rockin everyone else's world with how many fish he caught ... and he was a multiple amputee. What the hell? Then, my dad lets fly with the following conversation:

Dad: "heh heh ... look at him go. It sucks though."
me, confused: "Why dad?"
Dad: "He can't go fishing alone. Who would take the fish off the hook?"
me: *GROAN*
Dad: "Hey man, he should be wearing a life jacket. I don't think he can swim."

See what I put up with?!? Thankfully, mom called with her "honey do" list, and I'm currently chasing my dad with a cattle-prod to get a shower and go with me. He needs a haircut, he looks like an old wino.