thanksgiving at seven springs

now playing: pure prairie league, “the cost of doing business” (from the brand new, not yet released “all in good time” album)

yeah, yeah, yeah…i know what day it is.

and how long it’s been.

sorry. i’ve been busy.

as some of you know, i’ve started work on a new record (and a new blog to accompany it), and i ran into a bit of a snag this past week…i installed a fanless power supply and a low-noise heatsink and fan on the CPU of the computer – got everything booted back up, got the desktop up on my monitors, and went to dinner with wendy and jayda. when i came home, it was off – locked up, black screen, with a green light on the front of the case, but no other indication that it was even on.

it hasn’t booted up since.

the main problem here is that i had hoped to have some roughs done to mix to disc and take with me to seven springs this weekend for the poco show. alas, it was not to be.

i still haven’t gotten it working again yet.

i will, though. it might not be today, and it might not be tomorrow….

the trip, the shows, and the place itself were all great…seven springs is a ski lodge just off the somerset exit of the turnpike…the trip ended up being myself and my friend jon, charlie wade’s wife dorothy, and wendy – we left reading on friday a little before eleven, and got there around 3pm or so. soundcheck had already started, and poco was opening the show, so they were last to soundcheck…pure prairie league had finished just as we got there. (for those outside the loop – bands usually soundcheck in reverse order…the last band to play soundchecks first, first band last…so that once the first band to go on has completed soundcheck, nothing has to be changed between that point and showtime.) we stuck around for soundcheck long enough to hear bill lloyd do his impersonation of country singer john anderson on a snippet of the jethro tull classic locomotive breath…bill was filling in for ailing poco guitarist paul cotton for this show. he’s a hell of a guitarist, songwriter, and singer…i managed to strike up a conversation with him about his long players project – the long players are a group of nashville musicians who, every few months, go out and play an entire classic album from front to back – live – with special guests from the nashville community singing the songs. if you go to bills’ website, there’s a full section on the long players and some of the albums they’ve taken to the various stages in nashville…it’s pretty ingenious.

i also got to renew my acquaintance with curtis wright, who i met for the first time a couple of years ago when PPL did a co-bill with poco at the scottish rite auditorium in collingswood, nj. the first time we met, i walked up to him at soundcheck and started up a conversation with him about his guitar, and he handed it to me – pretty trusting soul, i’ve gotta say. but i’ve run into him a couple of times in the time since, and he’s always been more than generous with his time and his advice. incredibly humble, too, considering how talented he is.

at the seven springs show, he had his mother and two brothers with him – he’s originally from huntington, pa – and his mom was so much fun to talk to. she reminded me a bit of my own grandmother, caledonia stricklin….a slight, frail woman at first glance…but anything but that after you talk to her for a few minutes.

jon and i went downstairs before the show and brought the huge bags containing all the bands’ merchandise up to the floor where the show was taking place, then we all broke for dinner before the show. we came back into the hall and started unpacking t-shirts, hats, cd’s, and the like at around 6:30 or so, and it was as if we’d broken out the original fishes and loaves…people swarmed us (and at the time, it was only wendy and i) and we probably sold…well, i’ll just say we probably sold a substantial amount of merch before jon and dorothy made it down. i think it was a little overwhelming for wendy – she’d never done it before, and i don’t think she expected the volume of people or the pace that trying to satisfy a throng of souvenir-hungry baby boomers would entail – so she was only too happy to see jon and dorothy when they got there.

we went to sit down once the show started – all three bands from the drifters’ church staple were on the bill (which was my main motivation for being there)…poco got through their set as well as anyone could have hoped, considering that they were without one of their principal members – they sounded great, bill did a superb job with the guitar parts and staying on top of the harmony parts…he’s a true pro. pure prairie league was amazing – they’re as good a live band in their genre as there is…i’d put their harmonies up against the occupants of hotel california anyday.

i was a little disappointed in firefall…in fact, we left after three songs. the drummer was playing much closer to the neighborhood of linkin park than 70’s soft rock, the bass player had this piercing, shrill voice, and the guy who sang rick roberts’ parts just plain had no sense of pitch whatsoever. it was…well, uncomfortable.

i left because i wanted to be able to listen to their music at some point after the show and not have the experience colored by how they sounded that night.

anyway – we gathered up all the gear and the merch at the end of the night, after standing around at the merch table for a while talking with rusty and bill – then we went out to the bar and talked to curtis and his family for a while…one of PPL’s roadies from their days on the bus had come out from ohio to see the show, and he was down in the bar with his wife…they were talking a bit about michael connor (conway), their keyboard player who passed away last year…and apparently, curt had a penchant for throwing “penalty flags” on the band back in the day, which he’d done that night but it was a largely unnoticed inside joke – i wasn’t sure what the hell he was doing when he did it.

curtis and i decided we were going to stage a coup in the bar and take over for the acoustic band playing in the corner as soon as they took a break, but they never did…and i got tired of the barrage of “panama red”, “signs”, and “friend of the devil”-ness that they were throwing out non-stop, so we went back out to the bar for a while, grabbed something to eat, and bumped into curtis again on the elevator going up to our rooms at a little after 2 am.

the next morning, we got up to go downstairs for breakfast and met up with jack, rusty and mary – rick alter came down and joined us as well…after breakfast, we all piled in the trooper and headed back east.

i’m still a little bummed out that i wasn’t able to rescusitate the studio computer in time to get anything off it to play for rusty and company – i’ll fine tune it once i’ve gotten it fixed and send him something to listen to around christmas, if all goes well.

we’ve booked a date at the tin angel with my nashville buddy charlie degenhart…we’re appearing with darcie miner. show is at 10pm.

y’all come, ya hear?

overheard today from the stall in the bathroom at work:

“why is it that it takes white out all day to dry on paper, but only seconds to dry on your fingers?”


quiet, i suppose…

now playing: lord of the rings

a hell of a time of day to be watching tv, i know…but there’s a good chance i might not go to sleep at all tonight.

i slept more this weekend than i think i ever have in a two day period…i came home from a trip to york yesterday afternoon to meet my new friend steve at speakeasy vintage music and drop off what i found out was a 1937 hammond C series organ and a leslie 25 cabinet. we had a few minutes to chat about what had to be done with them to get them up and running, what my options were…and i can see why people like aaron neville and alicia keys send their stuff to him…he knows his stuff.

anyway, i got home and talked to jayda for a bit..we waited for wendy to come home, and ate dinner…then i took her to her friend frankies’ house and came home and laid down for what i thought would be a nap at around 6:30…

…and i woke up at noon today.

but that’s not all of it…i fell asleep again at around 7 or so and got in a couple more hours’ sleep.

i guess i was tired.

now, though, it’s quarter after three in the morning, and i’m sitting in front of the television.

tomorrow i will pay for this.


squirrelly activity

now playing: jimmie spheeris, “monte luna”

so today, i seem to be faced with the same sentiment on a number of different fronts in my life….

…i need to stop messin’ around and start getting some serious work done.

perhaps it’s just remorse for having spent so much of my weekend asleep, but i’m feelin’ a lot of pressure today. pressure to finish building the baffles for the back room in the studio so that i can record drums with a minimum of outside disturbance…pressure to have at least three or four songs close to completion by the time i drive out west over thanksgiving weekend, so that i can have something tangible to play for the guys…pressure to finish the whole filing project that i stayed up all night the other night to start (i’ll be really happy that i finished this one come tax time next year), pressure to get more on top of what i think most people would consider basic housekeeping stuff at home…

i think that, unlike other times, this particular pressure has roots in the fact that i’ve gotten so much accomplished over the last couple of months – it feels like i’m so close to being in a place where i don’t have all this stuff hanging over my head that needs to be done…closer than i’ve been in a while…and that makes getting over the hump that much more important. i guess it’s always easier to discount the possibility of actually getting there when it’s miles and miles away. that doesn’t feel like the case anymore.

dylan got his report card for the first quarter of the school year last week, and he kicked ass – even under the duress he experienced the last two weeks of the reporting period (with the surgery and having missed two weeks of school and all). A’s and B’s throughout.

so he celebrated by taking the liberty of walking home from school the next day without letting anyone know what his plans were.

his sister would have been crucified for doing such a thing (has been in the past, i should point out)…dylan, however, still floating on his cloud of report-card-induced-invincibility, received a few moments of scorn and then life went on as it does over at moms’ house.

our gender-based double standards are reinforced here on a daily, maybe hourly, basis.

my personal challenge to myself this evening is to complete at least one (if not two) baffles, solder the banana clips onto my speaker cables, and get the kinks ironed out of the ADAT lightpipe connections. once i’ve done that, i can make peace with ripping the PC apart later this week to install the fanless power supply and the new CPU heatsink assembly.

i should think about actually recording some music amidst all this squirrelly activity, as well.


i’ll sleep when i’m dead…which may be soon at this rate

now playing: dan tyminski, “carry me ‘cross the mountain”

ok, first of all – myspace kicks some serious ass.

i never thought that anything would really come close to replacing the old site when it was assimilated by some years ago, but this does it in spades.

it’s keeping me up nights.

i’ve rekindled acquaintances with a bunch of old friends that i haven’t seen or talked to in years on here…i really do think that i must be the last net-enabled asshole to catch onto this.

i have laundry in the dryer right now, so i can justify this somewhat…but i really do need to sleep. there’ll be no sleeping in this weekend…on saturday i’m taking a hammond organ and not-even-close-to-matching leslie cabinet to speakeasy for an overhaul, and then sunday is the fall philly guitar show…

i guess that i’m just going to have to go to bed at a decent hour both of those nights.



this particular fridays’ list

now playing: alison krauss and union station, “broadway”

for todays’ edition of all time top five friday, i submit for your approval –

all time, top five albums for enhancing an already powerful emotional funk

now i have to say before i get started – if i were going to make this a true representation of my personal all time top five, it’d be mix tapes. i know, i know…they’re not really mix “tapes” anymore, but then again it could be argued that they’re not really “albums” anymore, but i still use that term pretty exclusively when i talk about collections of music.

i guess it’s just a me thing.

but – what with having eliminated mix tapes and all, here’s my personal picks for times (like right now) when no amount of peppy, upbeat music is going to do me any good, and all i can really hope for is to intensify an existing funk by mixing some truly sorrowful, poignant, wistful and sappy songs into my personal soundtrack of despair.

ok, so maybe i’m not quite there yet….but after a steady dose of these, i might be.

one – joni mitchell, “for the roses”

all that really needs to be said here is that if it’s not on your list, you’ve either never heard it or you have no concept of what i mean by a “funk”. this album is brilliant for countless reasons that may or may not take into consideration the overall melancholy theme of the album, but it’s perfect for quiet contemplation or reflection on your place in the cosmos. achingly beautiful songs.

two – the blue nile, “hats”

you know what? don’t even listen to the whole album. just put the disc in your cd player and cycle “let’s go out tonight” over and over a few times. in roughly half an hour, you’ll be on the floor of your living room in the fetal position, gently weeping and sucking your thumb. paul buchanan is one of the most amazing vocalists you’ll ever hear – he’s who bryan ferry and morrisey want to be when they grow up.

three – karla bonoff, self titled

“if he’s ever near”. “rose in the garden”. “home”.


i have to admit, i almost went with her second album, “restless nights” – and on another day, i might have gone ahead and made that substitution. they’re both brilliant records.

four – dan hill, “longer fuse”

alright – yeah, it’s that album. the one with “sometimes when we touch” on it. let’s get over that, for the sake of this discussion.

after you get past that song, you immediately go into a song called “14 today”, and you’ve soon forgotten that you know what was on this record at all. the title track is amazing, as is the final song on the album, “still not used to”….still not used to having people pay to hear me…

seriously, there are some great songs on this album.

honorable mention to a couple of other things he’s done – “frozen in the night” (another great album) and a single he released called “all i see is your face”…

five – janis ian, “stars”

yeah, another record by a one hit wonder that happens to have the one hit on it. sue me.

take this disc into your living room, put it on the stereo, light a candle and/or some incense, turn the lights down or off and curl up on the sofa and close your eyes.

a few days later, when your landlord and the police break into your place because of the complaints from the neighbors, they’ll find you right there…in the same place…with the same clothes on. you’ll still be there, looking painfully like christopher reeve at the end of somewhere in time.

when they finally succeed in rehydrating you and cleaning you up, you’ll leave the halfway house they’ve “strongly encouraged” you to camp at for a while and learn to slowly re-enter society…you’ll rebuild relationships with your friends, you’ll return to work, and eventually the whole thing will be written off by those you love as “that weird weekend”.

but you’ll never be the same. ever.

go out and buy it now. yeah, right now. wal mart is open.


aborted mission statement

now playing: matt pond PA, “claire”

y’know, for as much as i think tom cruise is overrated, at least he had the balls to follow through with trudging to the printers’ in the middle of the night and putting his thoughts out there.

not me.

i chickened out.

i had my finger on the “send” button, ready to fire my own personal version out into the email community where i work….ready to let the entire workplace know that i’m mad as hell, and i’m not gonna take it anymore….

and i backed down.

i thought about calling my boss and reading him the text before doing so and getting his thoughts on the matter, but i felt pretty confident that i know what his position would be on the issue.

so a moment of inspiration dies on the vine.

here, however, is what it said:


Hello and Happy Friday, Everyone.

Everyone, at some point in their personal or professional lives, composes their thoughts in a forum of some sort only to later regret having done so. I’ve come to refer to these incidents as “Jerry Maguire Moments”…and this may very well be mine. But I’m going to put these thoughts out there before I get cold feet and change my mind.

Now that I’ve already made you uncomfortable, let’s get straight to the point.

It’s just now 9:20pm, and I’m still sitting at my desk.

You might ask why.

I’ve been working on a PC – the same PC – for almost five hours now. For the sake of brevity, here’s what has happened.

The individual to whom this machine belongs had an error that presented itself every time he booted up that stated that his anti-virus protection failed to load properly. There was no getting around it, it took up his whole screen before he could even log on – but he chose to ignore it and “entered” past it every time he had to start his machine. For the sake of speculation, I would assume that this problem probably started around the time that we moved the Anti-Virus server to a new machine and began to push out client updates…but I digress.

I noticed, over the course of the past couple of weeks or so, that this particular user complained frequently and loudly about his machine locking up, about having to reboot, about how slow it was…but the complaints were never directed to me until a problem presented itself today that finally pulled me into the loop.

When I first went to the machine, the very first thing I noticed was the Bright Yellow Exclamation Point on the Antivirus icon in the lower right hand corner of his screen. For those of you who don’t already know this, that’s a problem. I went to uninstall and reinstall his Antivirus software, and every single program on his computer had vanished from the add/remove programs window.

That, of course, is also a problem.

Again, in the interest of brevity, I’ve spent the time since then trying to salvage his Windows installation and the data on his computer from the over 400 malicious files found by Ad-Aware and the 1850 files I finally managed to get Symantec to delete from his machine. That is – once I was able to get it to work again, against the wishes of the infected files that kept closing it and corrupting the installation while I tried to fix it. As I do this, there are people waiting for their husband/father at home, wondering why he’s at work late every night this week.

Why do I do this?

I do this because if the shoe were on the other foot, and I had turned my sensitive data over to someone else, I would want to know that they would exhaust every potential solution before wiping it out and starting fresh with a few clicks of the mouse. I’ve always tried to make sure that I tried every means at my disposal to salvage people’s data before reaching for the cyber-sponge and scrubbing their drive and starting fresh.

However, I find myself in a position that forces me to rethink my personal ethic in this situation.

Right now, our three-man IT department is in the midst of a transition that has monopolized our time and attention for the better part of this week, and will continue to do so to varying degrees for the next four to six months as we bring our new manufacturing software and our new network infrastructure online and go live with it. I’m not complaining – simply stating the reality of the situation. Tomorrow, there’s no doubt in my mind that I’ll find myself defending my decision to try to salvage this machine instead of just scrubbing it…even without having put myself in the position I’m putting myself in by sending you this email, I’m sure I’ll be questioned as to why I chose to put the time and effort into this situation that I did. And rightly so. I’d be asking the same questions if the tables were turned.

This is not a position I will put myself in again.

In the past, time has allowed me to indulge my integrity, on the issue of going above and beyond to salvage data in these situations. That is no longer the case.

So what I’m trying to say is simply this:

In exchange for my effort to save your data, I need you – the end user – to police your machine and make us aware when your machine isn’t functioning the way it should.

I need you to be willing to pay attention to the warning signs that your machine is vulnerable to threats and potentially unprotected from them.

I need you to be far, FAR more aware of the things you download onto your machines that contain code and applications that exploit these vulnerabilities.

We’ve had a collective free ride on the issue of downloading cute but useless and potentially harmful eye candy for a long time. There’s never been a time when this wasn’t a problem, but it’s been a tolerated annoyance. Our current time constraints and the dwindling amount of time that I have to address these issues dictate that this simply cannot continue to be the case.

To summarize:

If you’re either unable or unwilling to do your part to help keep your machine clean of this sort of thing, I might not be quite so motivated to try to save you from yourself the next time your machine ends up on my bench.

I can scrub hard drives in my sleep. It’s the saving of the data on them that takes time, effort, expertise, and the ability to swallow insane amounts of frustration.

To return to the Jerry Maguire analogy….I’m asking you to help me help you.

If you’ve actually read this far, I thank you for your time. The last virus scan is almost done now, and I should probably prepare for the potential fallout from this email by cleaning out my desk.

Have a nice weekend, everyone.


now i’ll be left to spend the weekend wondering what could have been if i’d had the balls to actually put it all out there and let the chips fall where they may.

but hopefully there’ll be some consolation in the fact that i’ll have somewhere that i have to be on monday morning.

4 pm on some idle tuesday

now playing: kim richey, “those words we said”

as was hashed out in the comments, the gent in the picture is none other than david lindley, one of the most amazing musicians in the history of mankind. and one of the nicest guys, too. he’s on tour on the east coast right now, and stopped at sellersville theatre on sunday night. it was a one man show, just him and his arsenal of instruments…three weissenborn-style hawaiian guitars, a bouzouki and a cittern, a saz, an oud, and a couple of plain ol’ guitars. i would’ve wished for a fiddle piece or two, and possibly a banjo as well – only because i know he’s quite proficient on both, and i think it would’ve been cool to have them along. as it is, he travels pretty heavily – and i can relate. if i brought everything i wanted to to every gig, it’d get pretty crowded up there.

david was great, though – played an extended version of cat food sandwiches that will forever change the perception of the phrase poker chip in the minds of the audience who witnessed it. he also played a song i’d never heard before called when a man gets boobs in a style that i guess could only be called Bhagwan John Lee Hooker – a chicago blues shuffle on the oud. and as per usual, he played a number of instrumental pieces that showcased his uncanny ability to not only play his instruments proficiently, but to be innately musical in the process – his sense of what’s appropriate and precisely how much flash embellishes the melody and how much is too much is completely intact.

he really is as close to a master musician as there is, i think.
i tried to wait as long as i could for most of the other folks there to trickle out before i went over to talk to him – i had brought my studio wallhanger guitar for him to sign (where his john hancock now resides alongside those of ed king from lynyrd skynyrd, stephen stills, rusty young and paul cotton from poco, curtis wright and craig lee fuller from pure prairie league…and a few others). i had a “win this record” era 8 x 10 glossy that i had him sign for me as well, and as we were examining my lame guitar (shaking it and giggling at the sound of the truss rod flopping about inside the neck), we started talking about instruments for a while…i asked first about how he amplified his saz (which is devoid of soundholes, and thus making the typical sunrise installation impossible), and then we started talking about hawaiian guitars, comparing notes on the Superior instruments (which morphed into K&S over time) – turns out that he has one identical to mine in every sense…even in the fact that the bridge is beginning to lift up a bit.

he was very accomodating, very sweet – and we exchanged contact information after i brought up the concept of the book…he apparently hadn’t gotten the email i sent him before he left on tour, so i gave him the thirty second pitch. as soon as i told him the title of the book, he smiled and said, “boy, do i have some stories for you….”

that was encouraging, to say the least…since, let’s face it – from my own perspective, there’s not much of a book without david.
so while we probably won’t be able to sit down during this jaunt, i don’t foresee any real obstacles. in fact, i told him that i’d be willing to come out to him next year if that was easier. i’ve never been, and it’d be a great excuse to go to subway guitars in person and meet the infamous fatdawg…and i’m sure i could find other things to do out west to lure me out for a while.
ok. all that said…the week’s other big story…
on tuesday afternoon, i got a call from the kids’ mom saying that the school nurse had called from school and asked that dylan be picked up…apparently, there was something wrong that the nurse wasn’t comfortable with. she said that she’d gotten there to find that he’d been in band and had bent over to pick something up off the floor and was met with excruciating pain in his…crotch. jill picked him up and made an appointment for him later that afternoon with the doctor, who took one look at him and began arranging to have him whisked to st. joseph’s hospital for emergency surgery. they apparently suspected tortion of one of his testicles. now apparently, if that happens, you have a window of roughly six hours or so to correct it or it becomes a lost cause…it dies and has to be removed. and when that happens, there’s apparently elevated risk of becoming sterile, because the other one suffers as a result as well.

now apparently, the doctor saw fit to tell his mother this (as i was on my way, 115 mph style, to the hospital) while dylan was in the room, and that kinda sent him over the edge. he’s a hard kid, and he didn’t show any real outward emotion, but jill said he was trembling when he went into the operating room. i got there just minutes after they took him in, still hanging on the initial tortion diagnosis.

it felt like he was in there for a week. i felt like i wanted to puke. i felt so bad for dylan, whos’ not exactly brimming with self esteem in the first place, having to deal with the stigma of potentially carrying this label with him through high school (because how do you keep something like that under wraps when everyone knows why you went to the nurse in the first place?) and potentially having the ability to have children of his own involuntarily lifted from his shoulders. how do you help a child deal with something like that at a point in their lives when they’re just beginning to start to figure out where they stand on their own sexuality?

as i sat there agonizing over dylan’s predicament, i couldn’t help but be struck by the words from that infamous email that we all got eleventy billion times seven or eight years ago…you know the one, right? the one that purported to be kurt vonneguts’ commencement address to MIT or some such nonsense? the one that was eventually set to music by baz luhrmann? the sunscreen thing, remember? sure you do.
“Don’t worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real trouble in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday….”
it was well after 4pm now, and the worry was firmly set in motion at this point.
wendy came as soon as she could, in her own version of crisis mode, which i probably didn’t handle very well, but sometimes you just have to quell the din as best as you can. it wasn’t really a time for being verbose in any quantity.

about an hour and forty five minutes after they took him in, the doctor who did the surgery came out to fill us in on what had happened.

apparently, the vast majority of men are born with testicular apppendages that are essentially appendix-like…they’re leftovers from evolution (maybe there was a time when men had – oh, say, half a dozen or so testicles…it would certainly explain the other attributes of prehistoric mans’ genetic makeup), and they cause this problem more often than we’re aware of, but usually it doesn’t require surgery. but since they had operated based on the tortion diagnosis, they cauterized and removed it…which is apparently routine. he said that anytime they find themselves in that area of the body, they usually remove the “growth” as a matter of procedure.
dylan came out into the recovery room some time later and we went in to see how he was holding up – his first question was, “will i still be able to produce children?”
i wanted to cry. even though i knew he was fine, he just broke my heart.
a little later, we were talking, and i straightened out his covers and grabbed his hand as it stuck out of the sheet at about waist level – he looked over at me and said, “i love you.”

i said, “i love you, too, dylan. i’m sorry i wasn’t here sooner.”

then he looked at his mom and said, “you, too.”

and then the academy award speech started….”and aunt jodi, too…and jayda….”
maybe thirteen is too young to feel your own mortality, i don’t know. but i think he was feelin’ it that night.
later, after we got him into a room, he and i settled in while his mom went home for a shower and watched the world series (it was the night of the record setting longest game in world series history that the white sox finally won in houston). he was a little dopey from the anasthesia, but it was a far cry from the goofy lightheadedness exhibited during his routine tonsilectomy the previous year…it was a somber, dazed brand of aloofness. he got to get something to drink at long last, and we dug in for a long game. his aunt jodi talked to him on the phone a little while later, to wish him a happy “twisted testicle tuesday”, and he called his sister to tell her that he loved her. his mom returned at a little before midnight to find him still awake, and he managed to hang in there until almost one in the morning because he wanted to see who won the baseball game. he finally dozed off and i went home a little later, just relieved that it was over.
jill stayed the night with him and brought him home the next day, and i stayed home with him on thursday to keep an eye on him. the aloofness went away with the anesthesia, and he stayed on a pretty disciplined regimen with his painkillers the first couple of days to keep it at bay. by the weekend, he was starting to get around better, and went with wendy and i to buzz and sues’ house, but he was still far from one hundred percent.

he’s only really started to show some degree of life within the last few days – he went back to the doctor yesterday, and was cleared to go back to school next week…in the meantime, he’s got an assload of homework to do, and he’s on pretty strict “slacker orders” – stairs to an absolute minimum, no moving around unless necessary – which, if it weren’t for the pain and the fear involved, might be motivation for dylan to twist something down there every month or so…
but, all ass-busting aside, i’m glad that the scare is behind us…and i think dylan now has a gauge by which to measure the things that he may or may not take for granted in this life.