Another abandoned object. Not the guy in the van, that is good friend David. This is besides one of the character building back roads in Death Valley. The van died and unless someone feels duty bound to haul it the 75 or so miles to what passes as civilization, it will stay here a very long time. It won't even rust. Another time we went to the tourist part of the valley. There were rows and rows and rows of very spendy motor homes, all tethered to the power and water lines. If you asked the owners, they would say there were "camping!" I will be very old when I go back again.
I am not a fan of Mike’s or of boxing, but the rest of the headline caught my attention: “…the ex-world champion learns to love the boring life.”
That is all I need to understand. I didn’t read the rest of the piece, it was enough.
When you are world champion anything, particularly something that has a lot of money involved, it is pretty hard not to live pretty fast, I would guess. Seems like I remember that Mike made zillions of dollars and is pretty well (if not totally) broke now.
Not too long ago I was looking at a series of photographs of abandoned building around the world. There were a lot of former mental hospitals, TB hospitals and such, but there was also a picture of Mike’s gym, the one he had custom made for him in his mansion somewhere.
The suggestion was made that he did not own it any more, probably some bank somewhere does, I don’t know.
The gym had long been abandoned and neglected as had Mike’s fast life. It was sad, even if I did not know the details.
Now he is getting used to the boring life.
But actually, the boring part is still in your head.
Way too early, and I will pay later. It is the staying asleep part that I have troubles with, hence these early hours.
One of my neighbors goes to work early. That is OK, but he starts his car and let's it idle while he showers, eats breakfast, combs his hair, walks the dog and does his taxes.
In short that car will idle for a long, long time.
In my subterranean home, I can feel the vibrations of the engine. It is a big engine, probably a V8 and it throbs.
Around here, any caring about the natural world that surrounds and sustains us is considered un-American, so I should not worry, or think of impinging on this man's freedom.
And I don't wish to maim is freedom, but I do wonder about his wisdom and his logic.
When I get up this early, I might start a fire in the stove. I really should. But, usually when I get up very early, I go back to bed after an hour and a half or two, and it would waste firewood to build a fire and abandon it, so my logic goes.
Instead I get out my 1979 North Face Cats Meow sleeping bag and cuddle inside it while sitting in my recliner. The Meow has done well though the years. It was good for it's 20 degree rating for a couple of decades, but now I use it to avoid building a fire.
The grandparent to student ratio was pretty high, maybe 1/1, when you remember that most students had two grandparents, at least.
When I went to check out and give my room key back at the end of the weekend. I had my checkbook ready to pay for the room (the earlier information was that there was a small charge). But when I went to pay the kind girls dean said: “There is no charge for Grandparents.”
I am sure they would appreciate it if a few grandparents left checks that had a lot of zeros left of the decimal point, but nothing was ever said that direction. I did leave a check, but I am afraid it did not have any where enough of those zeros.
One interesting thing happened.
We stayed in the girls dorm. They have a section that has doors keeping it separate from the rest of the dorm. Guys (even Grandguys) are not allowed past that door without an announcement: “Man on 2nd floor.”
The bathroom in the part where we stayed was for women, of course, but while we were there it was re-designated for the men visitors. The proper women’s restroom was past those big doors and down the hall.
I sent Miriam down there a couple of times, then had to get someone to go rescue her. She would make the wrong turns and end up the wrong way.
So I decided I would take her into the mens bathroom instead.
There was a stall right by the door. I would announce my intentions, in case one of the other stalls was occupied, and then usher Miriam into the end stall by the door.
That is the proper way to handle that detail of life when you are with a handicapped person, as I am told. For durn sure I am not going to go into the Women’s room for any reason other than tile repair.
It worked well and we got to spend a good bit of time with granddaughter Jessica. It was a good weekend.
This blog began as a spot to vent about my life with Miriam and her time with Alzheimer's disease.
She was diagnosed in '99 and her decline has been quite slow. In fact some of our best years of our long marriage have been these recent years.
Alzherimer's, at least her version is a disease of waiting. One shoe drops and it can be a very long time before the other one drops.
So life goes on.
At the beginning of this blog I told the story of our courtship and marriage, about out family and our personal journey with this disease. The part that scares the most is the anticipation as the disease slowly progresses.
So, I will touch on that subject from time to time, but the entries will tend toward comments on life. I'll leave politics and religion for others to worry about, not that I don't have strong opinions!
I have my hands full just looking after my wonderful Miriam.
We met when we were 6, began dating at 15 and have been together since. We will have our 56th anniversary this June.
We have four wonderful daughters. Smart, independent, awesome. They have given us 7 grandsons and 4 granddaughters. None of them are little any more. The oldest is 28 and married, the youngest is 14.
Until this last fall we lived in a hosue I designed and built in the '70's and it is pretty weird and wild, but very comfortable. Last summer the girls came to the conclusion that I really did need help dealing with Miriam. Now we live on a couple acres with daughter 1.
Life has been good. There is not much I would do different even if I could. We are rich beyond belief but chronically short of cash!
And, unless stated otherwise all the photographs are mine.