A Bad Week for STL

Saturday, August 11, 2007 our friend Dan was killed at his and Courtney's home on the North side of the city. It crushed us all, his neighbors, friends and fellow SLU alums. It has devastated his family, including Courtney, his siblings, his parents, Courtney's siblings, their nieces and nephews and their closest friends Tony and Julie. It remains unsolved. The wake and funeral were terribly sad, but also wonderfully carried out by people who took time from their own grief to help out, or people who might have only known the grieving family peripherally but who just felt that helping out was the right thing to do. More distant friends sent money to cover costs of food for the funeral luncheon, sent money in Dan's name to a trust that will cover (hopefully) the costs of others continuing Dan's work for a long, long time, and sent their best wishes from all over the country and the world. There was a condolence notice sent from the United Nations office in Kabul, Afghanistan. Mark Chmiel gave a beautiful, sad reflection at the funeral that is posted here.

More articles are here,
here, and here (username: saintlouis, password: missouri)

Four days later, a 22 year old St. Louis police officer was shot and killed in North City and a 15 year old has subsequently been arrested for the murder. The young officer was from the area he was patrolling and had requested to be assigned there so that he could be a "role model" for youth in his home neighborhood. His photo looks like the face of a child with his dad's uniform and oversized police hat. It is said that the 15 year old planned to kill a cop, any cop would do and so he got a gun and did just that.

Finally, 24 hours after Officer Brown's death, St. Alphonsus Rock church burned after being struck by lightning. It is a St. Louis city institution, a Catholic church but important to many besides Catholics. Its an African-American parish, known for epic services that include dancing in the aisles, a gospel choir, tourists and visitors from all over St. Louis and the Midwest, and its incredible neighborhood outreach programs. The photos of "before" are beautiful, and the word now is that the church can be rebuilt. A drive by it shows the roof nearly completely missing, with some burnt wood protruding from what now appears to be a football-field long "skylight" at the top of the church. Very likely, its age (135+) will be its saving grace, as old construction here and in Europe has proven to be superior in withstanding flood, war, and fire to anything built today. Also, the people who love the church and make it function are resilient and still had services this past Sunday in an adjacent gym.

In 6 days, three very significant losses hit our city. It was a very bad week.

So as previously mentioned, I'm going to be an obi-san, or aunt. My sister-in-law has just crossed over into the second trimester of her pregnancy and will likely be having the first Fingerhut grandchild around my late Grandma Millie's birthday of February 13. Its very exciting for the entire family, probably especially for my parents who, like good Catholics, gave birth to 4 children relatively early in life likely expecting to also be grandparents relatively early in life. As the oldest, I have to apologize to them for not carrying out my end of the grandchild business. Fortunately, my brother has picked up the slack, married very well, and they'll be grandparents before they turn 60. That's great for them, and fun for the rest of us who get to spoil and hang with our new, half-Japanese, half-decendant of Nellie Fogarty, all Fingerhut neice or nephew. One interesting thing is that this child is destined to be 100% bilingual. That means the kid will always have a "secret language" with which to fool teachers, baby sitters, friends, and enemies growing up no matter on which continent they reside. Lucky little kids, that will only benefit them as they grow, apply for college, and seek a career path.

In Cardinal news, Rick Ankiel has returned to major league baseball in fine fashion. I don't think anyone could have predicted what he's accomplished in making it back, and no one every would have put money on his hitting a 3 run homer for the Cardinals in August of 2007.
Rob, Andrea, and I watched from Tanner B's. The entire place gave him a standing o, as did all the fans at Busch and probably people watching the game from all over the Midwest. Welcome back, Rick Ankiel. You've given us something to be excited about again.

Goddess trilogy

I have no particular reason to post about anything other than my recent coast-to-coast trips or the many exciting adventures being undertaken in the Fingerhut world, but just had to record one of my favorite celebrity gossip quotes because I ran across it online today:

"In this crazy patriarchal world we live in, we are doing our part to balance the energy. We are proud to announce the completion of our goddess trilogy with the birth of our third daughter, Makani Ravello," -Woody Harrelson and wife Laura Louie, 6/06.

I just enjoy its originality and of course I enjoy that Woody Harrelson is a free-thinker and says what he'd like in career-be-damned fashion. That's some self-confidence, a rare quality in show biz.

In the last two weeks I've dipped by feet in both the Atlantic and Pacific oceans and left the country for the first time in 20 months. I'll post more later and some photos as well.

Oh, and I'm going to be an AUNT!!!

Or, an Obi-san.

YEAH!!

Lazy People

As a rare visitor to MySpace, when I log in I read up on what everyone else has been doing. I saw a link on Becky's page to a myspace page for a family whose baby has been shaken (by an unrelated caretaker) and is critically injured. That is very sad, and I went to the website to read an update. The website is also a plea for financial help as the parents are practically children, the mother is only 21 and the father roughly the same age. So I peruse and feel bad for them and then see one of those little internet quizzes the mother had filled out. I presume this was completed before her baby became ill. She wrote: "I don't understand...:Government Assistance... A bunch of BS! They only help the Lazy people."


If I were cruel, I'd comment on the irony here. But she is just 21. She'll soon learn if she has not already that while she, her husband, and their infant are likely not "lazy", they will soon be the beneficiaries of the same "government assistance" that she has scorned.

Please Drink Responsibly

Last evening, 8 in the Fingerhut party (including one in-law and one significant other) took in a Gateway Grizzlies game. Reliving our childhood vacation destinations of small town minor league baseball stadiums, most of us stayed until the Grizzlies took the Southern Illinois Miners (with infamous starter Danny Almonte) into 11 innings. Just as in our childhood, there was excitement around every turn in the indy league park. There was Miss Illinois, Heidi signing autographs and clearly showing her Talent- impeccable spelling of Japanese names. In the bottom of the 10th, score tied at 5, a Grizzlies batter grounded out to first- and the lights in the stadium promptly turned off. No, the game is not over! came the word from the announcer, there's just been a light malfunction. Oh, and the Cardinals won 5-2 tonight over the Pirates and Jordan something is your new American Idol. The "light malfunction" took 45 minutes to correct, and after the delay the Grizzlies rallied to win in the bottom of the 11th. At midnight. You've gotta love minor league baseball!!

Fortunately for Rob and MF, word from the concessioneers was excellent- last call for beer? "There's no such thing". I suppose the laws are more lenient in Sauget. Did I mention the Grizzlies play in the Village of Sauget, IL, population 249? Well, they do, just a stone's throw from the Oz and a number of other choice venues for XXX girls, all night beverages and Yellow Brick Road, sight of Josh Hancock's collision with an 18 wheeler a mere 60 hours before his second collision which cost him his spanking new rental SUV and his life.
The irony of the lawsuits his family announced today could almost top the irony of the bracelets the Grizzlies pass out if you are a card-carrying 21 year old in their stadium intending to imbibe:


The juxtaposition of the "Please Drink Responsibly" millimeters from the contact info for Rekowski and Associates, Criminal DUI Misdemeanor attorneys makes about as much sense as the Hancock family's foray into frivolous lawsuits.

I've posted on forums today, I've listened to local radio and even read some national coverage and the bottom line on this is that a family is clearly in pain. They have lost their son, brother, nephew, and grandson. He drank himself into a heavily buzzed state at Mike Shannon's and then took off for Clayton, calling friends along the way to join him for a few more hours of partying. Fortunately, he took no one with him when he decapitated his SUV on the back of a tow truck driven by a good samaritan who stopped to help the driver of a Geo Prizm who either stalled or was forced by a collision into a stop in the fast lane of highway 40. The Hancocks are suing them all- Shannon's staff, the restaurant itself, tow truck company and driver, and now here's the kicker- the driver of the Geo Prizm. I've never been in a Prizm, but I briefly had a Geo Metro as a teenager and let me say for the record that a Geo driver does not have a lot of cash to spare. Trust me here. The Prizm driver needs what little he has. After the accident he immediately went to check the pulse of the fatally and gruesomely injured driver who we all learned a few hours later was Cardinals reliever Josh Hancock.

The family of a MAJOR LEAGUE baseball player has decided that they should extract some cash from this kid.

Amazing.

I hate to be the one to break the news to the Hancock family, but so many have taken the high road in covering and discussing your Josh's behavior and accident. The police, the Cards organization, every player, the management at Mike Shannon's, the fans, everyone had nothing but condolences and sympathy even though Josh was driving 68 MPH and on a cell call when his truck slammed into the tow truck. Oh, did I mention he was at twice the legal limit for driving in MO? Yeah, that too.

Well, the pity is no more. I'm fairly certain the Hancock family would not be welcomed to St. Louis anymore. I've never seen such public unity on a potentially explosive issue. Opinions are not a bit mixed. The Hancocks have wrecked their good name and whatever good was left of Josh's with this lawsuit business. Sympathy is gone. The rumor is that Josh's life insurance won't be paid out due to the circumstances of his death and his family is seeking to recoup some of the costs of his lost potential earnings to secure their financial future.

I think perhaps Justin Tollar, former owner of a (likely totalled) Geo Prizm should lower himself to a Hancock level and file a countersuit to try to recoup the cost of the years of psychotherapy he'll need to cope with the horrors he must have seen in the cab of that SUV when he selflessly went to check the pulse of an already deceased Josh Hancock.

I'll bet he could use a vehicle, something a little more substantial than a Prizm. He should get in touch with Rekowski and Associates, I'm sure they'd be happy to help.

If it Makes Ray-Ray Happy...

Ray Burke, he of denying communion to John Kerry fame, today announced he will not attend nor support the Cardinal Glennon fundraiser this weekend because Sheryl Crow is performing.

He's got a beef about her "positions which are contrary to natural law" and Catholic teachings because she's a "proponent of procured abortion" and also because of her commercials in Fall 2006 in support of stem cell research.

Burke also said that Catholics should not attend the fundraiser, but are absolved if they bought the tickets "in good faith." (whatever that means) "The church's teaching is very clear on procured abortion and stem cells" says Ray, so Burke is removing himself from the board of Cardinal Glennon.

Bob Costas (a self-proclaimed "Catholic faithful") is the host, he says he respects Burke's opinion but has no misgivings about Crow and is very greatful to her for her performance and support for sick kids.

This is from a radio interview earlier today on KMOX.

Has Sheryl Crow said anything about abortion? I'm unaware of anything like that. Many in show biz are pro-choice, but I'm not aware of her personal feelings on it. It would be nice if Burke would also point out that Crow has been outspokenly against a war that the Catholic church also has official opposition to by decree of two Popes, and on that issue he agrees with her as I've sure heard her talk more about war than abortion, but I suppose he reserves the right to critique whomever he likes.

I suppose Bob Costas had better not try to get communion anytime soon.

What exactly is "procured abortion" anyway? The definition of procured by Webster's dictionary is 1 a : to get possession of : obtain by particular care and effort b : to get and make available for promiscuous sexual intercourse

So Ray is against Getting or Obtaining an abortion? Is there another way for abortion to happen? Does he mean miscarriage? Surely he and his peeps would not use the scientific term "spontaneous abortion" to signify miscarriage as the A word there might somehow imply some sort of sin or fault, right?

So Ray is against Sheryl Crow being for the Getting or Obtaining of abortion.

Ray might be OK with the ex-future-Mrs. Armstrong being pro-reproductive choice while still opposed to the Getting and Obtaining of abortion.

I wonder.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure Sheryl Crow giving her time and earning potential to raise money for seriously ill babies and children is not worth a boycott. If I could afford a ticket, I'd probably go.

And I don't even really like her music. I also don't think people in my income bracket are the target audience of this fundraiser!

Pat Tillman

Recruitment tool, anyone?

Mary Tillman thinks so.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZwxM42Tl7Jo

The gross coverup of Pat Tillman's death has far-reaching effect on our country.

Call me a skeptic, but who was a better face of recruitment for the "War on Terror" but this handsome, strapping, intelligent football player?

It was known by the Army Rangers that his death was by friendly fire the day of his memorial service which was a patriotic call to arms broadcast throughout the nation. Even I, not particularly a fan of Tillman's, football OR the Army, listened to it largely because Jim Rome was speaking!

http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/eticket/story?page=tillmanpart1

The Army knew what they were doing. By the time they awarded Tillman a Silver Star, the Army had burned his uniform, his diary, and altered the documents submitted nominating him for that award.

His family's statement reads in part:

The Army can still not cite a single instance of any Silver Star, before Pat, that was awarded in the case of fratricide, when the subject of the award was never fired upon by the enemy.

No one who knew Pat ever doubted his physical or moral courage.

But the award of the Silver Star appears more than anything to be part of a cynical design to conceal the real events from the family ­ but most especially, from the public ­ while exploiting the death of our beloved Pat as a recruitment poster.
http://counterpunch.org/tillman03272007.html

9/11 seemed to be the sole reason that thousands of young people enlisted in the military. I hear those stories every day. Was 9/11 not enough? I'm not naive enough to suggest that any event thus far was staged as a military recruitment drive, but that the event's existence and subsequent promotion and publicity was enough to spur a rush of young men and women who felt called to serve.

I wonder how many American soldiers' deaths in Iraq were predestined when they first heard or saw a broadcast of Tillman's stern, confident Ranger portrait flashed in ESPN?

Four More Years?

Today is the 4th anniversary of the start of the very misguided invasion that has come to be known as the Iraq War. It is now longer than World Wars 1 and 2 and has cost 3218 American lives- not to mention the thousands of US injuries. Somewhere around 60,000 Iraqi civilians who were alive on March 19, 2003 are now dead of war-related injuries. Rob and I attended part of a 24 hour vigil in downtown St. Louis yesterday that culminated in a walk to Senator Claire McCaskill's office today to present a petitition asking her to vote against further war funding.

This is the official purpose of the vigil, to let our reps know that we the people are finished with trusting a government that spoonfed us this bogus war. Four years ago, I stood on Art Hill as the first bombs were dropped on Iraq and then we were a small minority. Public sentiment was very pro-war, very rah-rah, post-9/11, go get 'em, BRING IT ON. Those thoughts and cheers have been subsiding ever since, and now we're a vast majority- a very vast majority. Some say as many as 75% of all Americans want this mess to end. Of course we're discussing leaving Iraq in absolute ruins and chaos, but this was expected by the small minority of us standing on Art Hill on 3/20/03. We predicted it. We hoped for better, but why should our expectations have been any different? Bush should not be hailed as anything but a failure, and if he weren't so blissfully oblivious, I'd worry about his future mental health. I have screwed up some things in my life, but not really fundamentally ruined anyone else's sense of security or well-being. Bush has done just that for the entire population of at least one nation and to probably half the families of the US war dead and injured.

And to add insult to injury, care at Walter Reed turns out to be as sufficient as slapping a bandaid on a spinal cord injury.

These are sad times for the Bush administration and they exude- nothing.

Blank, quiet, nothing, nil.

"Stay the course". What course is that? See above.

The most heartbreaking story last night was of Lavena Johnson. Her HS senior picture is above. Her story is here: http://lavenajohnson.blogspot.com/

She died in Iraq, but not in combat. She died a mysterious, tragic death that the army has ruled a suicide. Her family and medical experts beg to differ. Veterans for Peace is trying to help her family uncover the truth. Lavena's case is closed, they have the official report on her death so their investigation and call for a reopening of her case is not premature.

One would think that a year and a half later, with inadequate reports on the death of a vibrant 19-year-old woman, asking for reviewing the case would not be unexpected. This is the Army, though, a veil of silence.

And so it goes with the Marines as well. The obituary that begins, "U.S. Marine Corporal ..., 22, died June 5, 2004, while serving in the U.S. Marine Corps on deployment..." is another open case. This one is in my family. That case is still open, nearly 3 years later.

Is that good enough for anyone who gives their life for their country? Is that good enough for their parents, who are undoubtedly young enough to expect to live a lifetime without their children and without knowing how they lost their lives? 19 and 22 year olds don't just die, not even while deployed in war zones.

But ask how that could happen, and that veil of silence will meet your call.

Interns vs. Pages

Maybe, finally, we have heard enough about stains on blue dresses and will finally be able to shoot back, "Yes, but at least she was an ADULT" and not a 16-year-old on IM.

Maybe.

It's not as though the blowjob even caused mayhem and horror here or abroad like the fraudulent Iraq war has continued to do, but somehow its the unforgivable moral downfall of the Clinton administration that the right cannot move past. The "When Clinton Lied, No one Died" cliche/bumper sticker is accurate but old and tired. I see a new one: "At Least Lewinsky was LEGAL"! This had better be the scandal that finally takes the Republican leadership out. "Family Values" for all, read here: http://pageoneq.com/news/2006/foley_093006.html

As a disclaimer, if this exchange was between two men over the age of 18, no matter how politically powerful either was, I would have no problem with it at all. I would laugh at how dumb the Congressman would be to IM his boyfriend like some kind of teenie-bopper text messager, but it would be perfectly fine. But this is a different kind of stupidity: the criminal kind. Oh, and if it were two adults involved, I doubt neither would make reference to "my mom" walking in or to having "AP English" homework to do. What a sicko. He's blaming alcohol and a priest from his past. Nice try.

I haven't written here in ages. Since I last wrote, the baby boom has been completed. The final count was 3 boys and 11 girls. Everyone was healthy, even the 2 preemies. There were 2 Graces, an Eva and an Ava, a Lily and a Lillyan, a Sarah and a Zarah. All families are doing well and I've been able to meet almost all of the new little guys. I won't say who I think is the cutest because that would be mean and it might also require me to mention which one's picture nearly made me lose my lunch. Just kidding, that didn't happen.

We lost Tiawanna on August 21, that was the worst week of this summer. Bill McClellan wrote an article about her which is nice but inadequate: http://www.stltoday.com/stltoday/news/columnists.nsf/billmcclellan/story/F1E7EE7A4959E18C862571D600321CF3?OpenDocument

I cannot believe she is gone even a month later, and for a long time I will be able to hear her laugh. We always talked about buying houses and I closed on my first one 4 days after her life was cut short. She would've liked to have heard about that!

And yes, I am a homeowner. I now read home improvement and repair books with the same voracity as novels and the newest People! My house is a 96-year-old historical Dutch Colonial that looks like a barn. The most exciting thing since the purchase and move was the car accident on Monday, October 2. Here's a letter I wrote to my alderman about that:

Hello Mr. Alderman.
My name is Lynn ---, I have lived at ------- for just over 1 month. I'm new to the area and haven't yet had time to look into neighborhood meetings and such but I do have a concern. You are likely aware of the serious accident that happened on my block Monday evening. It was caused by someone who may have been impaired by some chemical but was certainly exacerbated by speeding. I observe at least 5 cars daily who fly down ----- going 45-50 mph+ and I have yet to see one police officer around the area or one driver pulled over for speeding.

This is a very family friendly neighborhood populated by many children, bikers, pedestrians, and dogs. Someone is certain to be killed or seriously injured soon by one of these speeders. The accident Monday caused damage to a dozen parked cars and ultimately has likely totaled the driver's car. This accident was a very scary reminder of all the frighteningly fast driving I have observed in the last month. There is no possible way to damage 10+ cars and to total your own if you are driving at the posted 35 mph speed limit.
I would like to see how the speeding can be addressed. I would support a speed bump, stepped up police patrols, neighbors watching and recording license plate numbers of speeders, the reversal of our block's one-way direction to curtail drivers using it as a through raceway between ---- and -------, or any discussion on this matter that could resolve it in other ways.
I don't feel the the officers I spoke to after the accident recognized that this is an ongoing problem.

I am concerned. Please let me know what I can do, and as I am certain after Monday that other neighbors share this concern, and what we as a block can do about this. Thank you for your time.

Speeding IS a problem, and the drunkard that did it totalled a couple of cars. Fortunately, my car was on the opposite side of the street of the side the driver rammed. Apparently he has neither a license nor insurance, so I'd be paying for the mirror on the Focus myself if I'd parked to the south.

Besides that, I've constructed shelves, a compost, and patched cement on my house. That is the extent of my home repair thus far.
I need to figure our how to post photos here so I can show off my handiwork!

The Cardinals are up 1-0 in the NLDS vs. the Padres with another game tomorrow.

Good News

There is all around good news this week. Andrea is cancer-free after a grueling 5 month treatment period, during which she has lost skin, hair, and appetite. Here thoughts on the news and suck are here:
http://www.caringbridge.org/cb/inputSiteName.do

She got the news July 3, a celebration followed as it should have.

The baby boom of 2006 is almost over, and everyone has fared quite well.

On the same day as Andrea's good news, baby Peri made his appearance. His name is Prahlad Sai, and with his genetic makeup, he has no choice but to become handsome, interesting, and smart. Poor kid. Shruti gave birth to the 13th of 14 babies that I expected to enter my life this year. One is left, a girl at the next month from the McNelleys. The tally was 10 girls, 4 boys. Two were tiny preemies but thriving now. There were two Lilys (Lillies?), a Sarah and a Zarah and an Eva and an Ava. The Wassilaks had the biggest at 9lbs, 14 oz and the Lowders the tiniest at 3lbs 12 oz. I believe 4 were c-sections, 10 not.
We begin again in September, as I have 5 expectanct friends/family members between mid-Sept and February.

The Cardinals are rolling along in sucky fashion. We are not used to losing here in the Lou and its been a rough month. Still, we have 3 all-stars (Eckstein was ROBBED), are in first place (terrible division), and will likely be playoff bound again. I don't think any NL team is capable of beating an AL team in the World Series anymore, so I no longer think it is important to get to the World Series. The Mets, Astros, or Cardinals will be swept by Detroit, the Yankees, Red or White Sox, so who cares about the WS anyway?!

I may save some cash and stay home during the playoffs this year. We'll see how I feel in September.

Rob and I traveled to the Bay Area and then the Lake Tahoe area in mid-June for the wedding of Kendyl and Mary. It was beautiful, every single part of it from scenery to ceremony to the entire vacation experience. Their website: http://www.donnerlakeinn.com/Kendyl&Mary/
has a number of my pictures and I took dozens more.
My must-leave-the-country-itch is likely not going to be scratched in 2006 but likely a no more cancer celebratory European adventure will commence in spring 2007 so I suppose I'll hold my anticipation and extra cash until then.

A Rough Day

My client Frank died today. He is survived by a wife, a teenaged son, a host of extended family members, co-workers, and friends, and 1 million others who live with HIV and AIDS in the United States today.
This death is particularly sad for many reasons. First, 40 year old men are not supposed to die. They are certainly not supposed to die in nursing homes, unable to feed themselves or to talk. Secondly, his young family is already struggling to cope with the loss of their beloved father, husband, and breadwinner and their rapid fall from the upper middle class into near poverty. Finally, it was a preventable death. Frank never saw a doctor, had bloodwork done, or took a single medication before falling suddenly, ultimately fatally ill just 2 months ago.
I have about 80 clients at a time, most of them have been living with HIV for many years. Some are more recently diagnosed, but the average length of life with HIV on my caseload is about 10 years. In 1996, the anti-retroviral medications came out and changed the way my clients, and all HIV+ people live and die. With regular medical care, and medications when necessary, life expectancy for positive people is indefinite. Frank’s wife recognized this. Both of them were diagnosed after a routine blood test for a life insurance policy. When it came back positive on both, they panicked, hid the letter that stated their positive result in their car, and drove 40 miles from their suburban home to my office to ask someone who knew more about HIV than they did how long they would live. They found me, and I sat with them 3 years ago, both of them shellshocked and humiliated, sure that they would die before their then-preteen child grew up. They had no idea how HIV entered their world. They both stated that they’d been faithful to each other, with only 2 other sex partners total and both of those before their marriage a decade and a half earlier. Neither claimed to have used drugs or had any transfusions or needle sticks. We never determined their risk factor, but does it really matter in the grand scheme of life? To some, who want to determine guilt or innocence in this epidemic, it does matter. But in this case, this young couple wanted information about their future. Their past was not mine to question or judge.
I told them about HIV, how it progresses, what they might expect if they went to a doctor. I told them about the medications, about how some people don’t need or want them but for some they are the answer to continuing a productive life. We talked about disclosure and both of them were adamant that no one know their status. They had their son tested, he was negative and his parents opted not to tell him about his their new crisis. They told me they felt dirty, damaged, and that if their friends and family knew then surely they would be abandoned. This couple made too much money to qualify for any of the services that my agency offers, but I made sure they knew that they could call at any time with any questions or issues or even just to talk. Frank was quiet, his nature and also this intrusion upon his very personal life by first a life insurance company, and now a strange social worker unwelcome. His wife worked up the nerve to see a doctor one year later. She began meds immediately. Frank never did. He collapsed at work 2 months ago, after days of debilitating headaches and double vision.
His brain was ravaged by an unusual opportunistic infection. His CD4 was 8, while a healthy immune system has 600-1200. He never walked or talked again, though his wife said he was conscious behind his closed eyes and that he communicated with her.
He died an AIDS death straight out of 1983. Uncomfortable, rapid, and away from the comforts of home. Few knew his HIV status. His obit will likely read “unexpectedly” and a possible reference to a brain tumor, but nothing about HIV.
Frank’s wife is left to pick up the pieces and decide how she will live. She will be told over and over again that Frank’s death is not her future. I’m not sure she will believe it. Right now, with the powerful meds, her immune system is as strong as any other 36-year-old woman’s. Her husband did not have to die as he did, and she has to live with that anger at him as much as with her own illness.
Many believe that the mere existence of such successful medication regimens encourages promiscuity and wreckless abandon in HIV prevention. If you can take a pill later, why use a clean needle or a condom now? It is, of course, more complicated than that. Anyone on an HIV med regimen can talk a blue streak about the lipodystrophy, the diarrhea, stomach pains, weight loss and gain, the loss of sex drive and the meticulous schedule one with HIV must keep of eating, sleeping, water consumption, and bathroom time when they start a med regimen. It’s no picnic, but it is survival.
If Frank’s wife chooses to stay in care and take her meds, she is highly likely to see her son grow up, to get older and to experience whatever hurdles aging and family history have in store for her. She might get diabetes, cancer, or heart disease. She might be in an accident, she could die of any of these or she might die peacefully in her sleep at 85, as we all should hope to do when we meet that ineveitable conclusion of a life well lived. She will probably not die of AIDS-related causes.
Frank chose denial, and it killed him. This was his choice and it saddens me, though compared to the heartbreak of his wife and son it is nothing.

(The story is true, some identifying details are altered)

The beta that keeps me company here in my cube at work also died today. It is the anniversary of the Oklahoma City bombing and Waco, and tomorrow the anniversary of Columbine.

Opening Day

April 10 was the first game at the new Busch. I was able to get a sneak preview during an exhibition game on April 4. Link to the photos is below:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/lfcardinalsandmore/sets

In other news, babies 3 and 4 have been born. For those keeping track at home, we've got Zarah on Valentine's Day, Sarah on March 15 so far. Then, Grant Christian made his appearance on March 27, the day of his late Great Grandpa Tony's birthday. He's great grandchild #2, #3 is to be named Lillyan, is due in May and gave her parents quite a scare this weekend by not moving around while her mom and dad were enjoying opening day. She's fine, though, and still due in May. Baby #4 in my baby boom was due around the same time as Lilly but decided not to wait those extra 50 days and showed up on April 8. She's tiny but fine, so the little pack of newbies is now 3-1 girls to boys. Next up is probably Dave and Emily's little guy. This one will be the fourth in his/her household, so perhaps he or she is in no hurry to make an appearance. This might be his/her last few weeks of peace and quiet- ever.

The Cardinals are 4-3, I've seen so far just the disgusting final game of the sweep in Chicago. I also saw 2 fights in Wrigley and Izzy doling out a GRAND SLAM to Michael Barret who, incidentally, beat us with a homer the night before as well. Itwas painful to watch, and Izzy tried his damndest to lose opening Day in Busch III also, but just didn't quite make it. He did reduce Mulder's 6-2 lead to 6-4, and jacked his ERA to above 15 so it was a valiant effort. I have no problem with fans booing him, despite TLR reminding us all that Izzy already has 3 saves. Who cares?! He's scary.

I missed the immigration rally in STL, but am still baffled by the sudden interest in this issue. Immigration reform is the new gay marriage, I suppose. I wish the Iraq war was the new gay marriage. The bipartisan immigration reform proposed is dead now, but I'm still left to wonder: When you are undocumented, how do you prove you've lived in the US for 2 years, 5 years, or 3 years. If you've never been able to get legal driver's license, buy a house, sign a lease, or pay taxes, how do you prove your residence? Do you expect your employer to vouch for you, rendering bigger companies liable to bad press about how they employed undcoumented folks for years in large quantities? I doubt it.

How would that work? That plan seems as absurd as the idea of the great Berlin/wall of China Wall that some genuises want to use billions of dollars to erect on the southern border. What kind of garbage is that?! How about throwing a billion or two to the Mexican people who don't have potable water? How about addressing systemic problems that keep their children starving and their parents crossing the border in hopes of finding work that might keep their families alive. NAFTA, people, NAFTA. We did it, now we have to deal with the consequences. A wall is not "dealing with it".

Brilliant.

Life and Death, Part II

Addendum to earlier post because I just checked my e-mail and Sarah Bukaty Sheiber was born yesterday, one day before Mo!

Of the 14 pregnant people I knew 1 month ago, she's baby #2 and the second girl. Zarah Michelle Brown came on Valentine's Day. Next up is baby Reinneck, a new cousin and I expect that she, too, will be a girl because none of the 14 seem to be having boys.

So I go from birth to a small death, though I hesitate to use such a grave word on such a relatively mundane activity. I have to go to sleep because I have to go wig shopping with Andrea in about 4 hours. Its the cancer thing again, and no I don't associate it with death but rather the demise of Andrea's hair as we know it. She's never had short hair since I've known her. Any day now, it will be gone and she'll look like I've never seen her. Eh, its just hair- but what a cruel irony that you can't even keep what you look like when trying to just beat something so mean and difficult. Birth and wigs, I should call it. What's the death of a few follicles among friends anyway?

Happy Birthday, Sarah. I love that you have your mom's last name!! Woo-hoo!!!

Life and Death

Just under one hour ago, at 3:23 AM to be exact, I witnessed my first birth. It was a boy, a very big, 8lb, 15oz boy that his Somali mother delivered naturally with zero pain meds. Amazing. It was her 5th birth, she spoke no English so there was not much chatting going on. She hardly even groaned when she pushed him out, and groaned only a little louder when his shoulders were briefly stuck. She was circumcised and had scars from that ritual, but besides that she did not look injured and did not tear. Her baby was huge and wide-eyed, cried for a minute then just laid calmly on the warming table while the 2 nurses and Darryl, the OB cleaned up his mother. We asked what she was going to name him, she and her baby daddy (husband? Who knows?) didn't seem to understand the question, so I'll just call him Mo after a nickname for their names. Mo is the first little guy I saw born.
Five minutes after Mo was cleaned up and left with his mom to start breastfeeding, I saw the first person die that I've seen since I watched my Grandpa Tony breath his last. Truly, this was the first because technically I was about 10 feet away when my grandpa stopped breathing and I didn't really notice he had until my Aunt Renae said that was it. I realized I'd been watching but hadn't really seen him go.
The first person I truly watched die was not going to live long anyway. He was a tiny, tiny boy who was only 22 weeks, 4 days from his conception. There is no technology to save such a tiny body. Darryl says at 24 weeks the hospital can fight like hell to save a preemie, at 25 weeks there's a pretty good shot. After 30 weeks, its almost guranteed as long as the baby has gained enough weight. That's not to say the preterm kids are going to be healthy or unimpaired. Nope, they will simply live, the quality of that life is completely unknown.
This was the second preterm birth of the night I spent following Darryl around checking on his patients. Neither was his patient, and the first preterm- a 21 weeker- was born and died before I got there. The nurses were making up a little care package with a Certificate of Being for the first one while I waited for Mo's mom to progress. They had his tiny footprints preserved in plaster, several certificates that stated his vitals (1lb, 4.2 oz, 12 inches long, parent's names, date and time of birth and death which were identical), and a little outfit that he'd worn. They'd taken some pictures of him and already had then printed out and were pasting them in a memory book for the parents. There was, at the time they worked on their gutwrenching project, on the board three preterm labor patients- another 21 week, a 23 week, and a 24 week. When I walked out of Mo's room, I watched the 23 week (which turned out to be 22, 4 days) being wheeled into the nurse's station. The nurse had a finger on his chest, he was wrapped in a blanket on his cart, and she was gently telling another nurse that they had to have a doctor come and declare the heartbeat stopped- except it was still beating. It stopped while she stood there. The baby was still bloody and wet, they had covered him up but his tiny chest was exposed to her hands. The nurses were all so gentle and spoke softly. When he died, the one who'd had her finger on his last heartbeat just shook her head and commented on how hard that was. Another nurse followed her into their handwashing room also shaking her head. This is a delivery center for high-risk pregnancies, so I'm sure each nurse had seen this before and would again. They'd see it again at least one more time tonight, I'm sure. The little guy was half exposed to the light and Darryl motioned for me to come look at him. He just looked like a tiny, toy version of human. He had the tiniest penis, smaller than my pinky fingernail and little spindly legs that almost looked human but not quite. I'm not sure why the parents didn't keep him in the room until he died like the first family had, but then I guess everyone has different comfort levels and ideas about what they want.
I'm sure now the nurses are making up another keepsake book for a baby without a birth certificate.
But on the bright side, I'll bet Mo is nursing and looking at his mom right now. I'll bet she is looking down at him and thinking, How the Fuck did I push that massive melon-headed child out of me?!.

I got to see how the nurses work, how all the moniters track progress, what all the jargon on the board means (Gravita- # of pregnancies, Prema- # of births), some fun pneumonic devices- Florida Gas and Light, Something Gravita, abortion, and Living. Hmmm. I'm bad at this medical crap. I watched an epidural go into a teenager whose 4 young female friends twittered around her like they probably do while gossiping at the restaurant where they all appear to work, given that 3 of the them (not the mother) were wearing shirts with the restaurant's name. No baby daddy or even baby momma momma in sight. Sad. I wandered through the NICU seeing tinier babies barely alive, but still breathing. One little guy, he was over 2 lbs by now, was born at 27 weeks and was squalling and the nurse said he was hungry. Her hand covered his entire torso when she went to feed him. He had a full head of hair, just like he was a newborn on his way home.

I did all this from 10PM when I walked out of Block Party at Darryl's page ( I got a refund, thanks Esquire!) to 3:45 am when Mo was safely delivered, epidural mom was asleep, and Darryl said it was time to head home. I was absolutely fine during the delivery, no wincing or passing out. It did smell a bit, but how could I complain when it was little Mo's face right up in the mess that probably smelled worse. I'm sure that's immature to comment on, feces are no joke during delivery, just a fact of life- but Darryl and the nurses joked about the kid getting a faceful too. There was one scary moment when it looked like his shoulders might get stuck, but crisis averted when he slid down and the nurses pushed on the delivering mom's abdomen to push him out. I can't say it was Beautiful, the Most Inspiring Moment or anything hokey, but it was really cool. He was really perfect looking, too, just 4 minutes after being squeezed out. That's when I touched his tiny head, and he just wriggled his legs. Happy Birthday, Mo.

The Big C

Oh, man, what is this about?

Today is supposed to be a post about how pitchers and catchers report in a week, or maybe about how bad the State of the Union sucked or about how long its been since I have written and how THANK GOD blogspot is allowing little old me to post again after an absence and major blog migration fiasco.

All of it to be explained later- maybe.

But tomorrow starts a new era. The era of being the Best Friend of the Girl With Cancer. Not really, that actually started when she got diagnosed a week ago, on February 9. The dramatic title of BFotGWC was not actually her idea or mine, but a concoction Shruti and I came up with for when I write my book or go on Oprah. It is very theatrical and whoa-is-me and I think perhaps an ABC afterschool special if we were 15. But we are not 15, we are 31 and 32 and have known each other since she was 15 and I 14. I think we bonded over New Kids on the Block and a friend that neither of us even sees or speaks to anymore. Now we have breast cancer to bond over, but that has happened only to one of us and that is the good news. The other good news is that its treatable and treatments are more tolerable, quicker, and more successful than ever.

There will be no pink ribbons here. I think she is boycotting them, and I for one am mad at them. I mean, if you wear pink ribbon t-shirts and buy candy with pink ribbons and bottles of wine that benefit pink ribbon funds and eat and drink and run and walk for pink ribbon campaigns- then why has that money not made breast cancer go away?

There will also be wigs, for her and I imagine for anyone else who wants to borrow the silver, pink, Cardinal red, or afro wigs that she ends up with. Probably she's the only one who will get to wear the genuine, luxurious Felicity wig that is the epensive one.

There will be pity and confusion and some pain, some surgery and chemo and radiation and hopefully some fantastic celebration in August when the remission comes. I hope I do OK as the Best Friend of the Girl with Cancer because I don't know how to do that. I already hope I have not told too many people or not enough, or called too much or not enough. I'm nervous about calling and also about not calling. Why is that?! How fucked up is it that you can know someone for 17 years and then get nervous about calling them? Ecchhhh. I'm inventing drama of course. Cancer is not like it used to be, they even do radiation around your work or family schedule and give you special parking so you duck in and duck out like you are running in to pick up some fast food- only its high dose radiation instead of breakfast or lunch.

I hope she's OK. I hope I'm OK at this. I hope we still get to go to games and make fun of mullets and ogle Mark Mulder and drink beer on Bryan Cave, even if we are wearing Cardinal scarves or cheesy Cardinal red afros. Of course I'll wear one too, if she wants. I'm not going to be allowed to touch the Felicity wig, this much I know from the first 17 years. Hair is HER thing.

And being the Best Friend is mine, I guess.

Good Busch

Today is the end of an era. Busch begins its' 3-month-long fall in one hour and 16 minutes. This is the place I first visisted probably 25 years ago, perhaps earlier. We would sit in row 23, the highest in the stadium with our jugs of lemonade and water and our Aldi's pretzels. Sometimes it was my dad, Joey, and I, and sometimes the whole family. We sat on the isle, probably so the various toddlers and small kids in the family could run up and down without disturbing the other roof-dwelling fans.
I saw the circus at least twice at Busch, long before anyone told me that circuses are cruel to animals so I enjoyed them guilt-free. One performance included a tightrope walker navigating the width of Busch high above other activities happening in the rings far below. It took the guy probably 20 minutes or more to get across the stadium, and he never wavered.
I saw U2 there once on the Zoo TV Tour, Elton John and Billy Joel together, and New Kids on the Block once. I took two stadium tours and walked on the field several times. I saw probably between 150 and 200 baseball games there, including my first playoff game on October 13, 1987 when the Cardinals beat the Giants in Game 6 and the crowd taunted Jeffrey Leonard with cow bells and "Jeeeffffff-reeeey". I saw Ozzie backflip lots of times, Willie McGee throughout his entire career, a 1-hitter for Jose Jimenez against Randy Johnson, McGwire's homeruns number 61, 66, 69, and 70 and career number 500. I saw Ken Griffey's carreer 500th homerun and about half the home games of the first 5 years of Albert Pujols' legendary career. I saw my first World Series game last year, 2004 against the Red Sox. I saw Jim Edmonds send us into Game 7, then his amazing catch in Game 7 of the NLCS last year. I saw about 14 playoff games total including the one in 1987 and all the rest from 2000-present. I slept outside for playoff tickets at least 6 times, camping out with Mayers, Naumans, and thousands of strangers including once in 2000 with my new puppy, Foster. I got autographs from players and watched them walk to their cars and wave to fans after big games. I went to both Jack Buck's and Darryl Kile's memorial services on hot June days in 2002 and shot the last videotape ever (probably) of Kile on the field after Buck's service. That was the day I met Steve Kline in the stadium, the only time I ever actually met a Cardinal in that stadium.
I've sat in just about every section and probably 10 different luxury boxes over the life of Busch. Playoffs were largely spent in the bleachers. I sat in the seat I had purchased or had purchased for me until I was a teenager and we realized that you did not have to sit where you'd paid to sit when other seats were open! I've legally sat just rows from the field on a handful of occasions, and more times than that illegally including the last home game at Busch on October 2, 2005 when we closed down Busch about 8 rows from the visitor's dugout.
Until the playoffs of 2005, after my teenaged days I never ventured back up to Row 23 in the 300-section because there was always some better seat for me, my family, and friends. We discovered 246 was player seating and since players don't often give out all their seats, this was our surrogate season-ticket section. We also discovered you can come into Busch for free in the 7th inning.
We've finagled free parking (sometimes in the player area!), free soda from Guest Relations, and hordes of givaway items over the years. Sports bags, balls, bobbleheads, pins, hats, t-shirts, and the certificate for being at the last home game. I've been on a couple of dates there, none too memorable, and have been to Busch alone when no one else could go with me and I couldn't stand for tickets to go to waste.
I've probably been inside Busch more times than any other building outside of my own houses, a couple of jobs, and my grade and high school. From Jessi, Joey, and I taunting Giants fans and screaming when Edmonds blasted the homerun and jumped into the crowd at home plate, to writing all over the walls with Sharpees on the last day at the stadium, we've made the most of our time with the old ballpark.
Good night, old Busch.

I fear the disease is incurable.

"A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find that after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us. Tour masters, schedules, reservations, brass-bound and inevitable, dash themselves to wreckage on the personality of the trip. Only when this is recognised can the blown-in-the-glass bum relax and go along with it. Only then do the frustrations fall away. In this, a journey is like a marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it. I feel better now, having said this, although only those who have experienced it will understand it."
-John Steinbeck


Why is it that we are never settled, or if not "we" that I am never settled?! Why do I keep looking, keep planning, keep wondering what I am missing? And just when I feel like writing it all down, I find that someone already has. Yes, Charley is a French Poodle which is somehow distasteful to me, but the journey is already recorded adn I wish I'd read it before my own US odessy. I suppose now I'll just have to take another...

October

The very best month of all!! Humidity in STL is history, the postseason in MLB is in full swing (and I have tickets!), the leaves are changing, and according to the RFT Best in STL poll, October is the best month to visit/stay in St. Louis. I could not agree more.
I've been back from Asia for 3 weeks, the reverse jet lag is gone so I'm again tired in the AM and awake all night long. The difference with the jet lag was that I never got tired at all, and that made me terribly productive. I've unpacked my entire house almost all by myself, while also managing both full and part time jobs and going to all but one of the last 7 home Cards games. The only one I missed (9/28) was their only loss in the last 7, so my record remains excellent. The Cardinals finished the regular season 100-62 and are 2-0 in the postseason. My final number of games attended, which included Cardinals both in and out of STL, was 25, with a 18-7 record. I saw every starter 5 times but my boy Mulder who I saw 4. (Carp and Mulder once each in the NLDS). The remaining start was Eldred vs the Nationals in DC, a bullpen game that we won. With any luck, I will be at 3 more games and maybe more this season.
Finally, there will be a Cardinals game on my birthday for the first time since 1982 (Game 3 of the WS v. Brewers, we won 6-2). Twice in a lifetime- so far. Game 3 of the NLCS and by then, the Cards will be due for a loss so I'm going to have to be satisfied that they are merely playing, and I hope for a Suppan start. He deserves a game 3 start in SOME series, and TLR is obviously delusionally allowing an undeserving Morris the opportunity tomorrow in San Diego. Bad move. We'll likely still win, but bad move.
I think once we win a world series, be it this year, next, or in 4 years, I need to scale back the obsession. Its time consuming and really does no one any good. I should focus my energy on figuring out what I REALLY want to do for a living longterm, or perhaps planning extended travel or working for really important causes. People are suffering, and I spend time memorizing the stats of minor bench players and researching whether the Giles are related (they are brothers). I need to get a grip.
Next year. I swear. Once we win it all and its impossible for me to get/afford tickets at the new Busch, I'll have to divert some energy elsewhere.
Maybe.
Since I returned, there has been another hurricane, a new Chief Supreme Court justice and another nominee to the court. So far, their records are both clear as mud and aside from not being affiliated with any Arabian horse management, very little is known. Bush is either scared of his sliding approval numbers, owing favors, or a friggin genuis for slipping through 2 evangelicals that no one can call evangelicals to legislate us into the 14th century. I doubt he's a genius, so it's either of the first two. Harriet is the kind of woman Bush seems to love- older, very, very well educated, married to her work but no other person, of ambiguous sexual orientation and values, and likes to kiss him. She and Condi could be two of a kind, but we are aware of Condi's fondness for unjust war and unnecessary death so truly its hard to discern how alike they will be. The whole confirmation process will be interesting. Even Repubs these days are Bush-haters, its entirely possible that this woman could end up supported by the Democrats and rejected outright by Bush's own party.
All I know is that my clients are all getting their gas and electric turned off. Its an epidemic. My suspicions are that the agencies they (and we) usually find to help them through lean times are all Katrina-ed out and have nothing left to give my clients who are still poor and sick. Its a vicious cycle, as the poor and homeless of New Orleans need cash too. What can you do?
At least they can live without needing heat or AC in October. This brings me back to another reason why October is the best month of all. Viva octubre!

Eckstein

I'm Eckstein-ed out. I blame the media, not David. I'll explain.
I think David Eckstein is a fantastic human being. He's got a work ethic unparalelled on the Cardinals with the possible exception of Pujols. He seems to enjoy being in St. Louis, working hard and greeting fans. He also gets paid beans next to his underachieveing predecessor Renteria and has been the best investment of the year by team management. I'm happy he's here and wish him all the best.
That said, I am sick of hearing about how short Eckstein is. If I hear one more sports reporter in print, on TV, or radio spit out the phrase, "and he's only 5'7", or as Whitey Eckstein is often quoted, just "5'6" and 3/4", I'm going to vomit. Also words like "scrappy". Thesaurus anyone?
Then there's the family story. It was overtold last year when we signed him, then there are the 4-times-per-night commercials during the game broadcast with David promoting organ donation. Sometimes they run twice in the same commercial break. I think his family is probably filled with other fantastic, hard-working, scrappy people, but I've heard enough. I should not know his siblings' names. Christine, Susan, Rick (the other healthy sibling), and then, who else? One more brother who got a transplant from a stranger, I think it's Steven. Steven appears to be gay from my observations and I'm suprised this has not yet been delved into in a 4-part story on channel 5 as the rest of the kidney saga has. Oh, and then there's Pat the mom who gave Susan her kidney, and Whitey the dad who just got a kidney from Liz, a family friend.
I don't even know if Albert Pujols, Jim Edmonds, or Scott Rolen HAVE siblings, let alone their first names and life stories!!
I'm very happy all the Ecksteins (who despite the semitic name are in fact, practicing Catholics- thank you St. Louis Review!) are healthy little people. Truly I am happy for them, and also glad that organ donation is probably getting some much-needed attention. But I'm also annoyed by something that is probably a cruel detail to point out. This is congenital kidney disease, a genetic tragedy for this family. They state that already, the next generation of Eckstein offspring already include a number of children with the genetic flaw that will cause a transplant to be necessary later in life. Dad told David and his healthy brother to hang on to their organs in case one of these kids need it down the road. Very admirable. Then Dad goes on... you know, David is getting married soon and his kids might need the organs too.


(pause to ponder this profundity...)




Huh? You carry a genetic flaw that can cause painful, debilitating symptoms that require 4x weekly dialysis treatments, eventual life-threatening surgery and anti-rejection meds for life and more than likely another surgery later to replace your replacement organ? And you have a family in which several people already suffer this fate and will probably require new kidneys in their lifetime? And you STILL plan to bring more people into the world who have a 50% or greater chance of having the same condition?
Is that selfish or is it just me?
There's already a serious organ shortage in the world. I'm sure the publicity has caused more donors to sign up but should ALL of these donors be contributing to the Eckstein family? This is a prolific family, exceptionally fertile from an observer's view and the waiting list for kidneys in California might be populated by Ecksteins in great proportion in the next 20 years. Am I mistaken in thinking that Rick and David can only spare one kidney each? That's one neice or nephew each, and what if David and his little wife pop out 5 or more future kidney recipients? Sorry, young Jimmy, but I promised Dad I'd give my kidney to your cousin Bobby a long time ago, so we're going to put your name on the waiting list and you can just keep having your blood cleaned for another 5-10 years while we wait for your turn.
I'm thinking that vasectomy and adoption might be the way to go here, folks. I realize that the temptation to create another MLB player to keep the organ donation promotion in the news as well as the medical-bill income flowing is great, but Scrappy Dave is about 5'6 and 3/4 and 140 lbs soaking wet and his tiny fiance is probably half that so are we to believe that lighting could strike twice?
I'm probably going to hell for writing this, but maybe others are thinking it. Lord knows we all have enough info on the Eckstein family to have opinions on their situation. Maybe its just time someone talked about a different angle. Hey, here's to David being the MVP of the NLCS, because I'm sure there's an anecdote or two we haven't yet heard about his wee family, and its time ESPN picked up that story.

Aren't We Courteous?

I'll finish the trip summary even though I'm home and enjoying reverse jet lag here in the Lou. After I left MF in Ko Tao, I went on to Ko Samui. I did not have any motion sickness during my long catamaran commute this time, and spent one night in Charlie's Huts on the Chaweng (schwing!) coast of Samui. It was uneventful, I was attacked by hungry mosquitoes or maybe just one that was stuck with me under my mosquito net in my bungalow. Its a week later and I still look diseased on my lower legs where the Samuin pest left 40+ marks for me to scratch on the duration of my travels. Thank God for the mystery Japanese potion that relieves mosquito itching. I'm all out, Mark said he shipped some home and I plan to use it and perhaps invest in it. Its a miracle!
I went on to Krabi and then to Ko Lanta. All three of these destinations- Samui, Krabi, and Lanta can be summed up with the same adjectives- quiet, beautiful beaches, crystal clear water, picture-perfect scenery, and pretty darned boring beyond that. It was not tourist season in the west so things were very quiet and only a few staff members were around the bungalows I was in. I had a little freakout time as my ATM card was rejected by the machines in Krabi and then in Lanta, and I was down to my last tiny bit of cash. It amounted to about $7 US, credit cards are accepted nowhere in southeast Asia so I was sweating. I planned enough to get to the next city- Trang- and didn't eat for one day. I thought if I could get to the train station in Trang there should be a suitable ATM and if not, at least I'd be in some slightly bigger city where I could attempt to somehow access my bank account.
I got to Trang and the card worked! I filled my pockets with cash, had a big meal and bought some gifts. Then I caught a bus to Hat Yai and from there to Kuala Lumpur, capital of Malaysia. According to Lonely Planet, Hat Yai is where men from Singapore, Malaysia, and other Asian countries go to "get laid". Its a huge male tourist destination despite having no striking scenery or any landmarks. Go figure.
I caught a bus there to KL. I was feeling comfortable with my money, my timing and the fact that I'd finally picked up a few gifts for some friends. We came through customs and all the checkpoints after dark, I had been told this bus reached KL at around 7 AM so I'd have the morning hours to hunt down a place to stay and some food. I fell asleep, and was awakened by all the passengers exiting the bus at 3 AM. THREE IN THE MORNING. I had been chatting with a Malaysian guy at a rest stop and he woke me up. Downtown KL at 3 AM is what the Bronx looked like at 3 AM, only cleaner. Every single thing is closed, dark, and sealed up. I realized in talking to my new Malasian friend that no Thai money is accepted there and the ATMs were all closed for the night. So again, I am stuck with no money in a place where credit cards are as valuable as gum wrappers.
The Malaysian, Siva, told me he lived in the outskirts of KL and was going to just grab a hotel room for a few hours then head out of town. He told me to come with him. So I look at this objectively: new country, unknown city, no money, total stranger telling me to come to a hotel where I know I cannot pay. The guy was friendly, did not assume I'd share a room with him, but still! Then, like an angel, a man walked up with a flier for a guest house!! The guys says, are you two together? Do you need a place to stay- in English! He tells me the house is a block away and is free for the first night as long as you stay at least one more.
I bid Siva goodbye and followed the guest house guy into a hostel in the heart of KL and the perfect location for exploring the city. It also had hot water and AC, my first of the trip. I slept until the morning daylight, then went trekking around KL. I loved it. I know I'm a city person, but this reminded me of that all over again. KL was sort of a clean New York City, a smaller Shanghai, and sort of Chicago-esque. The diversity there, and I assume in most of Malaysia is also unusual for Asia. There are Indians, Middle Easterners, Malays and other natives, lots of Chinese, and many black and white people of all backgrounds. Malaysia is a Muslim country, the first I'd been to. Many of the women wear headscarves, and alcohol is pretty scarce, but this was all I noticed about the Islamic influence. Apparently there is much of that influence over the architecture too, but I'm not well versed in architecture or Islam so it was really lost on me. I went up in the KL Tower, not Petronas which are the highest twin towers in the world and the second highest buildings in the world, and took some great photos. I wandered around all day, seeing Chinatown and some major shopping districts, some beautiful architecture and an urban rain forest (the only one in the world). I saw the stadium where Malaysians proclaimed their independence from Britain, and the home of the royal family who are mostly ceremonial leaders. I enjoyed the city immensely and have never met friendlier people. Many Malays speak Enlish and all signs are in both English and Malay. On the monorail, there was a huge sign on a window over 4 seats that said (in Malay and English), "These seats reserved for elderly, pregnant ladies, and disabled people. Aren't we courteous?"
Indeed.
After a 50 hour journey through KL, Stockholm, Newark, Times Square, Long Island, Chicago, and finally Lambert International in St. Louis, I came home.
I'm unpacking in my new place, very slowly but surely. My Cardinals have clinched and today I somehow squeezed through the online ticket system and ensured that many Fingerhuts will see many playoff games again. My jet "lag" has actually manifested itself in extra hours that I am wide awake. I have not yet used an alarm clock since arriving at home, despite some early morning commitments and I've done crazy, non-Lynn things like waking at 6:30 and walking the dog, washing screens and scrubbing the bathtub before showering and getting ready for the day. Usually that time would be spent sleeping, hitting snooze, then scrambling to brush my teeth and get out of the house in 15 minutes. I wonder if this will last? I don't mind, it'd be nice if the need for sleep remains low until I am completely unpacked and settled in my new place, which I love.
My latest journey is over, the adventure complete and now I'm certain I can handle solo international travel. There were moments of loneliness, and lots of "someone else needs to see this!" times, but it sure beats never going anywhere at all. I'll take solo trips over no trips for the rest of my life. It's kind of empowering. I recommend it.
'Til later...