EPIDURAL NO. 1

The pain still shakes me...

The epidural has provided no relief from the pain in my right hip area. The only relief I get is when I am lying down on the floor or on the bed. Once I start moving around, the pain returns. However, the pain is not as intense as it was last week.

I went to Ikea to shop. The pain was so intense I had to sit down in one of the comfortable chairs until I could walk again.

I know one shot does not constitute full recovery status. I am ready for another epidural this Friday, but I am not scheduled until March 10.

I am going to call my doctor to prescribe me pain medication. Vicodin does not help. Now I am concerned about becoming addicted to the pain medications.

That I do not need in my life.

SAY WHAT?

I received in the mail my MRI results from NDC. I called my doctor and left a message to explain all this medical mumbo-jumbo. He returned my call and we went over what the heck I was reading. I asked my doctor, "On a scale of 1-10 with 10 being the worse case scenario, where am I at on the scale?"

His reply was, "About a 3 or 4."

I like those numbers.

MRI LUMBAR SPINE WITH CONTRAST

CLINICAL HISTORY: Worsening sciatica

PROCEDURE: Coronal and sagittal T1-weighted, sagittal T2-weighted, and axial dual-echo sequences of the lumbar spine were performed on a 1.5T Siemens Vision Magnetic Resonance Imaging System. Postgadolinium axial and sagittal T1-weighted images were also performed.

FINDINGS: There is normal anatomic alignment of the lumbar spine. There is normal bone marrow signal intensity.

The T12-L1, L1-L2, and L2-L3 intervertebral discs appear intact.

At the L3-L4 disc level there is moderate disc desiccation with associated mild degenerative endplate changes and minimal anterior and marginal osteophyte formation. In addition, there is a 5 to 6 mm (anteroposterior) broadbased left paracentral-lateral disc extrusion which is abutting posteriorly displacing, i.e. apparently impinging upon the traversing left L4 nerve root. This is best demonstrated on image number 28 of the axial T2-weighted sequence and postcontrast image number 6 of the sagittal T1-weighted sequence. There is resultant moderate to severe compression upon the left ventral aspect of the thecal sac. The extruded disc extends by approximately 5 mm in the cephalocaudal dimension posterior of the left aspect of the L4 vertebral body. In addition, there is moderate facet joint arthropathy with resultant mild central canal stenosis and mild bilateral neural foraminal stenosis.

At the L4-L5 disc level there is moderate disc desiccation with associated mild degenerative endplate changes and small anterior and marginal osteophyte formation. In addition, there is a 3 mm broadbased posterior central disc protrusion with resultant mild compression upon the ventral aspect of the thecal sac. There is a tear of the central aspect posterior annulus. In addition, there is moderate facet joint arthropathy which in combination with the disc protrusion and congenitally shortened pedicles has resulted in mild central canal and mild bilateral neural foraminal stenosis.

At the L5-S1 disc level there is moderate disc desiccation with associated mild degenerative endplate changes. In addition, there is a 3 to 4 mm asymmetric broadbased posterior disc bulge which is more prominent in the right lateral aspect central canal where it is abutting without significantly displacing the traversing right S1 nerve root. This is best demonstrated on image number 41 of the axial T2-weighted sequence. In addition, there is moderate facet joint arthropathy at this level which in combination with congenitally shortened pedicles has resulted in mild central canal and mild left neural foraminal stenosis. There is no significant right neural foraminal stenosis.

The conus, medullaris, and thecal sac otherwise appear normal. There is no evidence of abnormal enhancement following contrast administration. The limited imaging of the prevertebral soft tissues is unremarkable.

IMPRESSION:

1. L3-L4: 5 to 6 mm (anteroposterior) broadbased left paracentral-lateral disc extrusion which is abutting posteriorly displacing, i.e., apparently impinging upon the traversing left L4 nerve root. There is resultant moderate to severe compression upon the left ventral aspect of the thecal sac. In addition, there is moderate facet joint arthropathy with resultant mild central canal stenosis and mild bilateral neural foraminal stenosis.

2. L4-L5: 3 mm broadbased posterior central disc protrusion with resultant mild compression upon the ventral aspect of the thecal sac. There is a tear of the central aspect posterior annulus. In addition, there is moderate face joint arthropathy with in combination with the disc protrusion and congenitally shortened pedicles has resulted in mild central canal and mild bilateral neural foraminal stenosis.

3. L5-S1: 3 to 4 mm asymmetric broadbased posterior disc bulge which is more prominent in the right lateral aspect central canal where it is abutting without significantly displacing the traversing right S1 nerve root. In addition, there is moderate facet joint arthropathy at this level which in combination with congenitally shortened pedicles has resulted in mild central canal and mild left neural foraminal stenosis. There is no significant right neural foraminal stenosis.

EPIDURAL

My family doctor-referred anesthesiologist called to schedule sessions for my epidural.

The three sessions will be two weeks apart. My first session is Friday, February 24 at 11:30 a.m. He wanted to do it on Monday, February 20, but I have other issues with the exterminator man that day.

My co-worker and "hiking wife," Kindra, has offered to take me to the clinic. It is a coincidence that we are going to the same clinic I took her to when she went for her epidurals. Strange, but true.

After the sessions, I will be sedated and I will be in no condition to drive. This should be fun!

Imagine me trying to explain to the CHP officer why I was driving erratically: "But ociffer, I had uh edipural and me under evy shedayshun and I wuz on my waaaaaaaaaaaay hoam. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Humor is the best medicine.

I figured Fridays would be good since it extends my weekend and gives me two days to rest during the weekend.

I have also decided to go for a walk in Crystal Cove State Park. No pack. I have a Camelbak FlashFlo pack that I will use. I will shoot for 3 miles on relatively flat trails. From the parking lot to the junction of Poles, Mach One, and El Moro Canyon is about 1.5 miles. My two hiking friends, Garv and Joe, will hike the route I scheduled. We will probably grab a bite to eat afterwards.

The forecast calls for some rain. How much will fall in Crystal Cove State Park is anybody's guess. If the trails are too muddy, I will not walk it in fear of slipping and falling and really screwing things up.

Wouldn't be prudent.

MRI

Had my very first MRI this morning at Newport Diagnostics.

I went to my doctor yesterday to tell him my sciatica still lingers. Now it is painful in my left hip and it feels like my leg is on fire. The Lodine, Flexeril, Vicodin, Ibuprofen, Darvocet does not work. It is difficult to sit down and enjoy a meal or watch TV or drive for that matter. I haven't ridden my bike for quite some time either.

He scheduled me for an MRI for the next day. There was an opening at 9 a.m. on Valentine's Day.

I drove to the clinic and filled out some paperwork and sat and waited. About 40 minutes later my name was called and I was escorted to a small room and was asked to take my shirt and pants off and put on the gown. Reminded me of "Animal House": Toga, toga, toga, toga....

They had me put on a gown and lie down on the table. They put on a pair of headphones with classical music from Mozart. They raised the table and the radiologist said, "See you in 15 minutes."

"Beam me up, Scotty, it is time to get resonated."

Weird sensation being inserted into a tube with super-magnets.

To avoid feeling claustrophic, I closed my eyes as I listened to the soothing classical music.

Then I heard this "techno" beat sound. Sounded like a jackhammer.

I started to feel a little warm and uncomfortable. I kept thinking of the movie, "The Fly." Are we done yet?

As soon as I thought that, I was slowly being withdrawn into reality. Oooooooooooo....

I was still feeling warm and the radiologist assured me it was the MRI. I was told the machine does warm you up. Skinny people complain of chills. Guys like me with huge muscle mass tend to get warm. Whatever.

Then I was slowly being withdrawn from the tube. The radiologist said, "We need to do a contrast."

So, the radiologist inserted the stuff in my veins and went back in for another 5 minutes.

After that, it was all done.

Now my next concern is what the results will be. The radiologist said it will be one to two days until my doctor will contact me.

I hope it is nothing serious, because I have a couple of mountains to climb...

Mt. Whitney (14,497) and Mt. Rainier (14,410).

POW WOW FOR PABLO

Bob, me, Ken, and Gary of the Fugowhee Tribe. We were the last active members of the team. We played a lot of games together. A lot of games.

We muster at the Claim Jumper in Santa Ana for one last tribute in honor of Paul.



I do not know their names, but they were some of the many mourners in attendance.

"Batman", me, Bob, Gary, and Ken. We are the "Fugowhee!"

As we gathered and ordered our drinks, Batman stood up and proposed a toast. We relived old times. We drank and ate.

The crowd started to thin out. I asked Kathy to take a shot of the four of us outside Claim Jumper.

Afterwards, an eerie feeling came over me and I returned to Fairhaven Memorial Park. I drove up to the spot, got out, took a picture and said, "Paul, we had a get together in your honor. I just thought you might want to know that. Then again you are up there looking down so why am I here?"

And I bet his response was, "You dumb jarhead!"

I smiled and chuckled. I walked away. Got into my vehicle. Took one last glance and drove off.

I shed a tear.

THE MEMORY REMAINS

Today was rather a very difficult day for me and for all of us who knew Paul.

As always, and anyone can attest to this, I always arrived early to all of our ballgames just to get mentally and physically prepared. Such was the case today. I got to the cemetery around 8: 40 a.m. I drove by Lawn AW where Paul was to be put to eternal rest. I couldn't stay and wait for the others to show up at 10:30 so I visited my friend Ken at the Chevrolet dealership where he works that was nearby the memorial park.

As I drove, I drove past the school where Paul and I had batting practice with some of the women on our co-ed team. Paul had a lot of patience. I ran out of gas shagging balls.

Then I got to Glassell Street/Grand Avenue. Off to the north on the other side of the 22 Freeway is W.O. Hart Memorial Park. Many Fugowhee softball games were played on those two fields. Fond memories.

When I arrived at the dealership, I walked inside to the receptionist's desk and I had the receptionist tell Ken that I was here. Ken emerged from his office and we walked outside to the parking lot where our vehicles were.

We walk to his car and he opens up the car door and he hands me his Fugowhee jersey. I cannot recall if I had thrown my jersey away because it didn't fit or that I stored it somewhere else. Nonetheless, Ken came through. My jersey number was 19. His was 11. We chatted outside for a while then went back inside to give him my new mailing address to update their database.

I drove back to the cemetery and got there around 9:30. I walked around with jersey in my right hand. I noticed joggers and walkers. Strange. I could never jog in a cemetery.

I noticed an old familiar face pulling up into the cemetery entrance. It was Dave aka Batman. I waved at him as he drove by and he had this perplexed look on his face. He didn't recognize until I introduced myself. He drove 4 hours from Santa Maria to say goodbye to his friend.

As I strolled back to Lawn AW I noticed Ken had pulled up behind my truck. He had his jersey on and I in turn put mine on.

People started arriving. Old faces. Old faces with forgotten names. Faces with no names, but were friends of Paul and his family.

My other good friend and teammate Bob arrived and he was carrying a placard with the picture I had placed in my blog. The picture was of crystal clear quality. Much better than the one on my blog. I made a comment to Bob, "If it were our time to go, then we should all go at once so that we wouldn't be doing this."

Then I saw Gary arrive with his girlfriend, Kathy. A few months ago, Ken and Paul told me he got married so I offered my hand of congratulations. He wasn't married. Ken and Paul were pulling my leg. Insert foot in mouth. It was all in good gesture.

More people started to arrive. I estimate the mourners to be 100 or more.

Paul's mother, Gabrielle, arrived with her daughter, Kit, and her son-in-law. I never did get his name.

The Reverend Rose was fantastic. I was singled out to step forward to share with the others in attendance on the meaning of our team jersey, "Fugowhee." To make a long story short, the name came to be when a band of ancient Native Americans walked to the top of Santiago Peak and exclaimed, "Where the fug ow whee?"

After telling that story the people gathered burst into laughter amidst their tears of sorrow. I told of how Paul got "peppered" by a line drive and a hard throw. I told of how he wasn't the best baserunner in the world but he always ran out every hit whether he was safe or out. I talked about his fight with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I touched on a few other topics but I was getting a little choked up and felt it was best I exit center stage before breaking down. Ken and Bob congratulated me on my oration.

There was another gentleman in attendance who stepped forward to speak and told of Paul's chili. He told a great story.

After the services, I approached the Reverend and told him that he gave a great service. He hit on a few things that made me think as I stood by the casket. My eyes panned the many faces with tears in their eyes. I did not shed a tear. I knew Paul wouldn't tolerate seeing a "sea going bellhop" cry since he was Navy and I was in the Marines.

I noticed my ex-wife Mary in attendance. I thanked her for coming and gave her a hug. Paul was her friend as much as mine.

I stayed around and made my way to see old friends and teammates. There was one gentleman who introduced himself and told me that he and Paul started playing softball together in 1970. Incredible. That is a long time!

Another gentleman approached me saying that Paul was a big NASCAR fan and Greg Biffle. I did not know that.

It was decided to have lunch at Claim Jumper as a final tribute. I walked around certain groups to tell them of our intentions. I tried not to have the Donaldson family hear of our plans out of respect for their grief.

I got into my truck and rolled down the windows and hit the Guns N' Roses version of "Knocking on Heaven's Door" and headed down to Claim Jumper.

KNOCKING ON HEAVEN'S DOOR

Ken, Bob, Paul and me at Wallaby's in Santa Ana.

The four of us are the best of friends.

That's me kneeling on the far right yelling, "TIME TO BREED!"

Glory days at Centennial Park in Santa Ana after winning the mens' Sunday softball league championship in the spring of 1989.

Graveside services will be on Tuesday, February 7, 2006 at 10:30 a.m. at Fairhaven Memorial Park in Santa Ana in Lawn AW. Bob, Ken and I will be wearing our Fugowhee softball team jerseys in tribute to our dear beloved friend.

This obituary appeared in the Orange County Register on Wednesday, February 8, 2006:

Paul W. Donaldson, 56, of Tustin, an accountant, died Feb. 1, 2006, of congestive heart failure. Services have been held. Arrangements by Fairhaven Memorial Park & Mortuary, Santa Ana. Survivors: Mother, Gabrielle; sister, Kit Katz.

I received a phone call last night from one of my friends and old Fugowhee softball teammates, Bob. He called to inform me that Paul, fellow teammate and all around good friend, passed away sometime early February 1. He got the news from Ken.

I called Ken's home phone and left a message. He later returned my call. Apparently it was pneumonia. Ken has known Paul since 1980. I cannot imagine how he felt when he first heard the news.

I do not know at this time when the services will be. There are two things in this world I do not like to go to: funerals and hospitals.

Paul used to live in an apartment around Old Town Tustin. He eventually moved in with his mother who has Alzheimer's. I do not know how Mrs. D is doing now that her son has passed away.

Paul was my tax guy for a while. He was an airshow fanatic, especially the one at Chino Airport. We would often frequent Flo's for breakfast. He was our pitcher on the Fugowhee softball team. He always needed a courtesy runner if he reached base safely, because he had weak knees. The one thing you never saw him do was give up. He ran out every hit hobbling down the first base line. We played softball almost every night of the week in mens and co-ed leagues in Orange and Santa Ana. I had a lot of trophies to prove it.

There was one game in particular that we played in Centennial Park in Santa Ana. I was the catcher. There was a hard hit line drive up the middle. Unfortunately Paul was in its path. It caromed off of him. He had no time to react. He winced in pain as he circled the pitcher's plate. And if that wasn't enough "insult to injury" the third baseman picks up the ball to throw to first and hits Paul on the side of the head. Ouch! Poor Paul. All this was happening right before my eyes. If it were me I would have gone down for the count. Not Paul. He hung there. Finished the inning. Finished the game. We won. Afterwards while downing pizza and beer we recounted the game's highlights. We busted a gut. Paul gave me one of his "evil stares" but eventually Paul was laughing, too.

We used to go to Claim Jumper in Santa Ana every Friday night for male bonding night. It would be me, Ken and Paul talking about stuff. We also used to go to Claim Jumper every Sunday morning when they served breakfast. We would waltz in to the bar, plop our Sunday paper down on the counter, order breakfast, and then eat as we read the sports page or comics. I always ordered the "Kitchen Sink Omelet" with extra side of hash browns.

There were other watering holes where we would muster. Louie Louie's especially after batting practice. Pineapple Hill Grill. Benjies. Wallaby's aka Slammy's aka OBs.

I never went to Tustin Tiller Days to taste some of Paul's chili. Maybe it was good I didn't.

A couple of years ago, Paul was stricken with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma (NHL). I was going to ride in his honor for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's Team In Training cycling team, but never got around to doing it. He pulled through. Just like his baserunning, he never gave up.

I last saw Paul at the Santa Ana Claim Jumper on Friday, January 20, 2006. I hadn't seen him in a while. My friend Ken and I were already there chatting. We got to talking about Paul and how he "looked like sh*t."

Then Paul walked in. He did not look good.

We talked for a little bit. Then it was time for me to leave. We shook hands and said, "See you later."

I was in sorting things out in the garage when I came across that softball picture. That night I had a dream that I attended Paul's funeral. I remember distinctly during the wake. He was wearing his Fugowhee jersey #17. Eerie.

My heart goes out to Paul's family.

Paul, have fun up there in heaven. Just think NO MORE TAXES! No more struggling to meet deadlines or filing extensions with all your clients around April 15. I bet you are trying to convince St. Peter and God to file 1040 EZ. I can imagine that heaven is THE PLACE for an airshow with chalet seating and all the Conmemorativo tequila you can drink. Easy on the spices in the chili too, Paul! We don't want God to experience any Divine Wind.

Goodbye, Paul, I will miss you.

NITERIDER NICAD

To know more about Nite Rider, click on the above title to the link.

The NiteRider NiCad (nickel cadmium) battery I ordered on Monday, January 16, came yesterday. Nite Rider is headquartered in San Diego. Whenever I need something, they have always come through in the clutch. Thanks guys and gals at NiteRider!

This battery can get you in trouble at the airport, because Transportation Security Administration personnel have mistakenly identified it as a bomb. If you were the TSA and saw this flash before your screen, you would be alarmed, too.

SUBLIMINAL MESSAGES?

I couldn't help but notice words inside my REI Traverse pack that I use for my cycling commutes. Amazing what phrases were inside...

God's cathedral is the forest.
The road to heaven is a trail.
Open your ears to the silence.
Climb the peaks within yourself.
The best camera is your memory.
I am a sherpa.
Animals were here before you.
Reach the top.
Make the bottom.
Wind tumbles down.
Move like a glacier.
Carry no burden.
Life begins at the trailhead.
Just about halfway.
You can always take one step more.
Switchbacks keep me rising.
Home is where you pitch it.
Reality is for those that can't deal with nature.
Peaks scratch the sky.

There are more phrases, but I ain't tearing apart my pack to find out. Maybe when it is very worn and frazzled.

It is amazing what you can discover every day.

WILDERNESS PERMIT APPLICATION

Click on the above title to view the form. For any enthusiasts out there planning to hike to the highest in the lower 48 states, feel free to print and fill in and follow the instrucions on the application and good luck.

The groundwork for another dayhike summit attempt of the 14,497 foot Mt. Whitney is in the planning and development stages.

Target date is Wednesday, August 9, 2006. Second choice is Thursday, August 10. Third choice is Tuesday, August 1. The rest will be random weekday dates for August, followed by September, then August weekend dates, and then September weekend dates. About four pages of the application will be filled out and sent after midnight on Wednesday, February 1.

All applications must be received between February 1 through February 14. The lottery will be held Wednesday, February 15. Anyone entering the Whitney Zone the cost is $15.00 per person. You can pay by credit card or personal check. Just watch for any "hits" on your statement. A "hit" means YOU ARE A GO!

The permit will be mailed to:
Wilderness Permit Office
351 Pacu Lane, Suite 200
Bishop, CA 93514
Fax 760-873-2484

One of my co-workers, Horacio, is coordinating the event. I am the team leader.

Me (August 6, 2004; July 12, 2005; August 5, 2005)
Greg
Anthony
Horacio
Garv
Jonathan (August 5, 2005)
Kelly (Horacio's girlfriend)

Besides Jonathan and me, the rest will be trying to summit for the first time. Garv has tried twice and failed. The rest are not experienced hikers, but that will change over the course of the next few months. A vast majority of our training will be at Mt. Baldy with at least one or two hikes scheduled to the top of San Bernardino Peak (10,649). They don't know what their training schedule is like, but they will! Oh, they will!

If I can do it, they can do it.

A TALE OF SIX BOYS

I received this email from one of my friends, Kandy. I pass this on for all to read:

Each year I am hired to go to Washington, DC, with the eighth grade class from Clinton, WI. where I grew up, to videotape their trip. I greatly enjoy visiting our nation's capitol, and each year I take some special memories back with me. This fall's trip was especially memorable.

On the last night of our trip, we stopped at the Iwo Jima memorial. This memorial is the largest bronze statue in the world and depicts one of the most famous photographs in history -- that of the six brave soldiers raising the American Flag at the top of a rocky hill on the island of Iwo Jima, Japan, during WW II.

Over one hundred students and chaperones piled off the buses and headed towards the memorial. I noticed a solitary figure at the base of the statue, and as I got closer he asked, "Where are you guys from?"

I told him that we were fromWisconsin.

"Hey, I'm a cheese head, too! Come gather around, Cheese heads, and I will tell you a story."

James Bradley just happened to be in Washington, DC, to speak at the memorial the following day. He was there that night to say good night to his dad, who has since passed away. He was just about to leave when he saw the buses pull up. I videotaped him as he spoke to us, and received his permission to share what he said from my videotape. It is one thing to tour the incredible monuments filled with history in Washington, D.C., but it is quite another to get the kind of insight we received that night.)

When all had gathered around, he reverently began to speak.

Here are his words that night:

"My name is James Bradley and I'm from Antigo,Wisconsin. My dad is on that statue, and I just wrote a book called "Flags of Our Fathers" which is #5 on the New York Times Best Seller list right now. It is the story of the six boys you see behind me.

"Six boys raised the flag. The first guy putting the pole in the ground is Harlon Block. Harlon was an all-state football player. He enlisted in the Marine Corps with all the senior members of his football team. They were off to play another type of game -- a game called "War." But it didn't turn out to be a game.

"Harlon, at the age of 21, died with his intestines in his hands. I don't say that to gross you out, I say that because there are people who stand in front of this statue and talk about the glory of war. You guys need to know that most of the boys in Iwo Jima were 17, 18, and 19 years old.

(He pointed to the statue) "You see this next guy? That's Rene Gagnon fromNew Hampshire. If you took Rene's helmet off at the moment this photo was taken and looked in the webbing of that helmet, you would find a photograph... a photograph of his girlfriend. Rene put that in there for protection because he was scared. He was 18 years old. Boys won the battle of Iwo Jima. Boys. Not old men.

"The next guy here, the third guy in this tableau, was Sergeant Mike Strank. Mike is my hero. He was the hero of all these guys. They called him the "old man" because he was so old. He was already 24. When Mike would motivate his boys in training camp, he didn't say, 'Let's go kill some Japanese' or 'Let's die for our country.' He knew he was talking to little boys. Instead he would say, 'You do what I say, and I'll get you home to your mothers.'

"The last guy on this side of the statue is Ira Hayes, a Pima Indian from Arizona. Ira Hayes walked off Iwo Jima. He went into the White House with my dad. President Truman told him, 'You're a hero.' He told reporters, 'How can I feel like a hero when 250 of my buddies hit the island with me and only 27 of us walked off alive?'

"So you take your class at school, 250 of you spending a year together having fun, doing everything together. Then all 250 of you hit the beach, but only 27 of your classmates walk off alive. That was Ira Hayes. He had images of horror in his mind. Ira Hayes died dead drunk, face down at the age of 32 -- ten years after this picture was taken.

"The next guy, going around the statue, is Franklin Sousley from Hilltop,Kentucky. A fun-lovin' hillbilly boy. His best friend, who is now 70, told me, 'Yeah, you know, we took two cows up on the porch of the Hilltop General Store. Then we strung wire across the stairs so the cows couldn't get down. Then we fed them Epsom salts. Those cows crapped all night. Yes, he was a fun-lovin' hillbilly boy.

"Franklin died on Iwo Jima at the age of 19. When the telegram came to tell his mother that he was dead, it went to the Hilltop General Store. A barefoot boy ran that telegram up to his mother's farm. The neighbors could hear her scream all night and into the morning. The neighbors lived a quarter of a mile away.

"The next guy, as we continue to go around the statue, is my dad, John Bradley from Antigo,Wisconsin, where I was raised. My dad lived until 1994, but he would never give interviews. When Walter Cronkite's producers, or the New York Times would call, we were trained as little kids to say, 'No, I'm sorry, sir, my dad's not here. He is in Canada fishing. No, there is no phone there, sir. No, we don't know when he is coming back.'

"My dad never fished or even went to Canada. Usually, he was sitting there right at the table eating his Campbell's soup. But we had to tell the press that he was out fishing. He didn't want to talk to the press.

"You see, my dad didn't see himself as a hero. Everyone thinks these guys are heroes, 'cause they are in a photo and on a monument. My dad knew better. He was a medic (Navy corpsman). John Bradley from Wisconsin was a caregiver. In Iwo Jima he probably held over 200 boys as they died. And when boys died inIwo Jima, they writhed and screamed in pain.

"When I was a little boy, my third grade teacher told me that my dad was a hero. When I went home and told my dad that, he looked at me and said, 'I want you always to remember that the heroes of Iwo Jima are the guys who did not come back. Did NOT come back.'

"So that's the story about six nice young boys. Three died on Iwo Jima, and three came back as national heroes. Overall, 7,000 boys died on Iwo Jima in the worst battle in the history of the Marine Corps.

"My voice is giving out, so I will end here. Thank you for your time."

Suddenly, the monument wasn't just a big old piece of metal with a flag sticking out of the top. It came to life before our eyes with the heartfelt words of a son who did indeed have a father who was a hero. Maybe not a hero for the reasons most people would believe, but a hero nonetheless.

We need to remember that God created this vast and glorious world for us to live in, freely, but also at great sacrifice. Let us never forget from the Revolutionary War to the current War on Terrorism and all the wars in-between that sacrifice was made for our freedom. Remember to pray praises for this great country of ours and also pray for those still in murderous unrest around the world. STOP and thank God for being alive and being free at someone else's sacrifice.
God Bless You and God BlessAmerica.

REMINDER: Everyday that you can wake up free, it's going to be a great day.

The Clint Eastwood directed movie, "Flags of Our Fathers," is scheduled for release August 2006.

SOLD?

Signed paperwork for a possible sale of the "shoebox."

iPOD

My 30GB iPod is great! I wanted to get a Nano, but Circuit City was out of stock and an urgency of need outweighed the wait. For $50 more, I figured why not get the 30GB.

Just where am I going to find 7,500 songs, 25,000 photos, and 75 hours of video? CDs I have and maybe that's only 800-900 songs. I do have some DVDs, so I will download two to see how it goes. I will download "Silence of the Lambs" (A census taker tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti. Th-th-th-th-th!) and "Touching the Void" (SIMON!).
Photos? I have plenty of those on CDs, too.

I asked the Circuit City associate all kinds of questions. I am not much of a techno-geek, but I am working on it. I used their no interest plan and I got a few accessories. They also threw in $15 of music to download from iTunes. At 99 cents a pop, I am going to make my list of hard-to-get-songs. A vast majority of my music CDs are "best of" or "greatest hits" so I am pretty much covered.

I went to the Apple Store at Fashion Island to get a Speck Tough Skin Case since Circuit City didn't have any at any of their stores. It has a belt clip and I figure that is good enough for me.

I will use my iPod for use during those moments when I want to rock my brains out listening to Metallica or relax listening to the sounds of Japanese classical music.

Use while running, biking or hiking? Never! I intend to keep "in tune" with what is around me.

Besides...

Wouldn't be prudent.

AND THE RAIN CAME DOWN

First major storm of the new year. Heavy rain, gusty winds, and SNOW!

I have been monitoring San Gorgonio Backcountry Bulletin Board. Avalanche conditions will be a major concern during the upcoming winter season.

I will be waiting for more snow and get my permits for either South Fork, San Bernardino Peak or Vivian Creek trails.

2005: A YEAR IN REVIEW

Hiking/running totals: 718.48 miles / 303 hours 52 minutes 54 seconds.

Commute cycling totals: 2,222.96 miles / 145 hours 28 minutes 7 seconds.
Ride days: 137
Non-ride ("wasted") days: 95Weekend/recreational cycling totals: 42.19 miles / 3 hours 8 minutes 48 seconds
Overall ride total: 2,265.15 miles / 148 hours 36 minutes 55 seconds


Pushups: 66,100
Crunches: 119,000
Pullups: 1,310
Bardips: 1,310


Summits for 2005 (elevations in feet):San Gabriel Peak (6,161) -- Red Box Station, ODC, January 29
Rocky Peak (2,714) -- Hummingbird Trail, ODC, March 13
Sunset Peak (5,796) -- Mt. Baldy Village, ODC, March 19
Bedford Peak (3,800) -- Silverado Motorway, ODC, March 26
Bald Peak (3,947) -- Silverado Motorway ODC, March 26
Modjeska Peak (5,496) -- Silverado Motorway, ODC, March 26
Tahquitz Peak (8,828) -- South Ridge Trail, ODC, April 17
Strawberry Peak (6,164) -- Red Box Station, ODC, April 22
Thunder Mountain (8,587) -- Manker Flats-San Antonio Road, ODC, May 14
Timber Mountain (8,303) -- Ice House Canyon, ODC, June 5
Mt. San Antonio (10,064) -- Baldy Bowl-Devil's Backbone-San Antonio Road, ODC, June 25
Mt. Whitney (14,497) -- Mt. Whitney Trail, ODC, July 12
Mt. Whitney (14,497) -- Mt. Whitney Trail, ODC & TFG, August 5
San Bernardino Peak (10,649) -- San Bernardino Peak Trail, August 13
Mt. San Antonio (10,064) -- Baldy Bowl-Devil's Backbone-San Antonio Road, ODC, August 20
Bertha Peak (8,201) -- Cougar Crest Trail (Big Bear), ODC, September 4
Mt. San Antonio (10,064) -- Baldy Bowl Trail, Solo, October 22
Los Pinos Peak (4,510) -- East Horsethief Trail, ODC, November 19

Almanac:January 6: First ride day of the year (16.52 miles / 1:06:34)
January 18: 30,000 cycling commute miles since working at TFG.
January 19: I get a FasTrak transponder. No more fumbling for quarters on the tollways.
January 23: Pulled my left calf and right hamstring in a co-ed softball game. Two limp gimp.
January 26: My sixth year at TFG.
January 29: First summit of San Gabriel Peak (6,161)

February 13: Led my first ODC hike at Crystal Cove State Park. The muddiest ODC hike ever!

March 26: First summits of Modjeska Peak (5,496), Bedford Peak (3,800), Bald Peak (3,947).

April 14: One thousand miles cycling commute.

May 4: "Blogging" for the first time.
May 14: First summit of Thunder Mountain (8,587).

June 5: First summit of Timber Mountain (8,303).
June 13: Unsuccessful Whitney summit. Hyperextended right knee.

July 1: Vivian Creek trail opens after months of logging.
July 12: Second Whitney dayhike summit with ODC members Tonya, Joe, and Adrienne. Their first summit on their first attempt. 22 miles in 13 hours 46 minutes.
July 28: Chemotherapy over. Onward to the next switchback.

August 5: Third Whitney dayhike summit with ODC member Cisco (first summit first try), and friend, Joe (third summit) , and co-workers Garv and Jonathan (first summit first try). 22 miles in 14 hours 27 minutes.
August 13: First summit of San Bernardino Peak (10,649).

September 1: Mandatory Settlement Conference. Divorce final. Time to move on.
September 4: First summit of Bertha Peak (8,201).
September 8: 100th bike commute day.

October 15: The "shoebox" goes up for sale with an asking price of $519,000.
October 22: First solo summit of Mt. San Antonio (10,064) via Baldy Bowl Trail.

November 11: Two thousand commute miles. Egads! Seven months to ride 1,000 miles?
November 14: The "shoebox" drops to $499,000.
November 19: First summit of Los Pinos Peak (4,510). Easy scramble!
November 23-27: Walking in a Whitney Wonderland. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!
November 27: The back goes out trying to repair a vacuum. Go figure!

December 7: Ex-wife "proposes" to pay me $2,000 to move out by January 15. Not! NUTS!
December 8: Sciatica. The back and now this!
December 10: The "shoebox" goes down in price to $485,000.
December 18: The "shoebox" gets a bid for $485,000.
December 25: Another Christmas come and gone.
December 28: Broke the 2,200 mile barrier in cycling commute.
December 29: Signed paperwork for a bid of $475,000 on the shoebox. Counter offers to follow.
December 31: I buy an iPod. Thank you, Mom and Dad! My parents still spoil me so at my ripe age! The one that stores 7500 songs. Jeesh! I don't know that many songs!

And that's the way it was for me in 2005.

I was lucky. There are many of you out there who know of people who lost loved ones and were displaced by the recent hurricanes. I cannot imagine losing my home, my business, my job as well as my worldly possessions and having to evacuate and to live in a strange city without knowing where I will be living next. My heart and prayers go out to those families.

Natural disasters and wars take their toll. We grieve, but we must continue with our lives. Yes, it has been hard for all of us.

I always say to people, "If I can do it, you can do it." We have to pull ourselves up from our despair and continue to live and breathe another day and appreciate all that surrounds us.

Well, damned if we do and damned if we don't. Well, damnit, let's do it!

May your 2006 be a wonderful year. My resolutions? Have fun, ride more, hike more, run more, help others, etc.

In other words...

Carry on and be myself.

RED SKELTON'S RECIPE FOR THE PERFECT MARRIAGE

Two times a week, we go to a nice restaurant, have a little beverage, good food and companionship. She goes on Tuesdays, I go on Fridays.

We also sleep in separate beds. Hers is in California and mine is in Texas.

I take my wife everywhere...but she keeps finding her way back.

I asked my wife where she wanted to go for our anniversary. "Somewhere I haven't been in a long time!" she said. So I suggested the kitchen.

We always hold hands. If I let go, she shops.

She has an electric blender, electric toaster and electric bread maker. She said "There are too many gadgets and no place to sit down!" So I bought her an electric chair.

My wife told me the car wasn't running well because there was water in the carburetor. I asked where the car was; she told me "In the lake."

She got a mud pack and looked great for two days, then the mud fell off.

She ran after the garbage truck, yelling "Am I too late for the garbage?" ...The driver said "No, jump in!"

Remember: Marriage is the number one cause of divorce.

I married Miss Right. I just didn't know her first name was Always.

I haven't spoken to my wife in 18 months, I don't like to interrupt her.

The last fight was my fault though. My wife asked "What's on the TV?" I said "Dust!"

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

May you have a safe and wonderful Christmas with your family and friends.

As for me I will pick a direction and go.

CARPE DIEM

Didn't sleep well last night and this morning. Wasn't anyone or anything keeping me awake. I get into thinking early in the morning.

I figured that my current condition with my back and sciatica is the result of becoming "soft." I have been accustomed to riding 25-30 miles per day. Riding 5 miles each way is not my idea of keeping an "edge."

A lot has transpired in my life these last few months. Some good and some bad. It is time for an attitude adjustment.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and wisdom to know the difference.

Well, I know the things I cannot change and I know what I can change, but I don't need the wisdom to know the difference.

It is time I HAVE to make that difference. Today is the day of MY resurrection. I "cleansed" myself by riding 15.66 miles in 1:03:49 (ride day 132) on my Trek 6700 mountain bike.

That is something I haven't done since I rode 14.31 miles in 59:58 on April 27 (ride day 59).

Carpe diem.

I had to leave work early for a doctor appointment so I rode 5.36 miles in 21:07.

I rode for 21.02 miles. My first 20+ mile ride since September 8 the day after a tragic event.

Carpe diem.

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN LIBERALS, CONSERVATIVES AND ME

Scenario:

I am walking down a deserted street with my wife and my 2 children. Suddenly, Osama bin Laden and Saddam Hussein come around the corner and are running at us while screaming obscenities and wielding scimitars. In my hand is a Glock .40 and I am an expert shot. I have mere seconds before they reach us. What do I do?



If I were a Liberal…
Well, that's not enough information to answer the question!

Do they look poor or oppressed?

Have I ever done anything to them that is inspiring them to attack?

Could we run away?

What does my wife think?

What about the kids?

Could I possibly swing the gun like a club and knock the scimitars out of their hands?

What does the law say about this situation?

Is it possible they’d be happy with just killing me?

Do they definitely want to kill me or would they just be content to wound me?

If I were to grab their knees and hold on, could my family get away while they were stabbing me? This is all so confusing!

I need to debate this with some friends for a few days to try to come to a conclusion.



If I were a Conservative…

BANG!



But since I am not a Liberal or a Conservative…

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! click (sounds of clip being ejected and fresh clip installed)

Wife: “Sweetheart, he looks like he’s still moving. What do you kids think?”
Son: “Mom’s right, Dad, I saw them flinch.”

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

Daughter: “Nice group, Daddy! Center mass! Can we go home now?”


That’s the way I am.

Disclaimer: This scenario does not reflect my political views. Humorous purposes only. Not responsible for content.

SCIATICA

Sciatica...sounds like a name of a rock and roll band.

This morning while taking a shower I noticed my lower left leg was numb. No major cause for concern, but I am monitoring all the little aches, pains, and numbness and will see my doctor in about another week. It is time to take those soft mattress pads off the bed and sleep on a firm mattress. I have to stay active. Hiking may have to be put on hold, but maybe I can do short hikes with a lighter pack to ease back in.

I rode my bike again to work. Temperatures were not as cold as yesterday. I tried to stand up on my bike while pedaling to see how the leg would hold up. I couldn't.

I am experiencing discomfort as I sit at my desk. Relief comes when I force myself to walk around the confines of the office while looking busy at the same time.

A nice soaking in the Jacuzzi tonight is in order. Maybe a lap or two underwater in the pool may tweak me in the right way.

Refuse to yield.