Saturday was somewhat of a celebration. The weather was threatening but it didn't stop friends and family from gathering to welcome the Bald-headed Wonder back to Cinnaminson.

An opportunity in NYC brought Dooner East and he had the weekend off so he took the train and visited with us. It was very weird having him home - I'm thinking that we've sort of gotten used to it just being the two of us in this house.

In any case, it didn't rain and I didn't cry. The food was yummy and the laughs were many. Tim's shirt was salmon! There are more pictures if you click this link :

http://www.flickr.com/photos/28922249@N00/

We hope to see him a few more times before he returns to California! If the weather's nice on September 9th, we'll go up to Madison Square Park and check out the venue like we did last year. And perhaps he'll have a few days to stop home again at the end of his gig, do some laundry and catch up with a bunch of other folks.

I'm looking forward to that :-)

So today’s topic actually began to take shape 2 days ago – a typical rainy day and Monday. I was scheduled to drive up to our Pennington location so I found myself driving north on Route 130 instead of south… Either way, it would’ve been a crappy day because southbound 130 was flooded as was Route 73 and I would’ve used either of those routes to get to work in Swedesboro.
The point of this story is that it was raining and I was driving through Burlington on Route 130 – just before the Burlington Bristol Bridge. I looked up and noticed a the light had turned red and was slowing down when the three cars in front of me seemed to be braking suddenly. I think I was going about 20 mph but I slammed on my brakes and found myself gliding into the rear of a red Nissan Altima.
Well, there’s no need to go into the prayers followed by the string of obscenities issued from my mouth! Yah – I prayed. “Please don’t let me hit it. Please don’t let me hit it. Please don’t let me hit it.” (The three thing again!) Yah – I hit it.
I wasn’t going that fast so the airbag didn’t open. Apparently, the damage wasn’t so bad either. The worst thing was that the screws on my license plate holder left an imprint on her rear bumper. I was pretty shook up and upset at the stupidity of the situation, so much so that I neglected to check the obituaries when I got into work.
Also, I tried to call Shel and I had to leave a message because his cell didn’t pick up. When he finally called me, he started yelling because I didn’t call the cops… really the damage was so minor… I finally hung up on him because I had had enough crap all day! I even told Andy to take a walk out to Postal to check the time on their PCs.
SO… yesterday morning, I’m driving to work – the southern direction and I catch the light at Riverton Road. This woman using a walker is crossing Route 130 at the street, not using the famous overhead crosswalk that Erika used to love crossing to go to Clover to get her birthday present. No – this woman was crossing at road level and, while she was making good progress, it was unusual enough to make me giggle – especially when she motioned for oncoming traffic to inch up on her!
Then, a little farther down the road, still in Cinnaminson, this little blonde chick hopped the medial strip and got stuck there as she tried to cross Route 130 – not even at a light let alone over the cross walk! I wasn’t going fast, but someone with a little speed, could get her caught in their draft and fling her up like Dorothy’s house in the twister!
So now, I’m approaching Cinnaminson Ave and I noticed there was a car stopped at the light going northbound and an older guy was standing beside it pouring gas into the gas tank. The light changed and everyone begins to move and I noticed that a police cruiser is up ahead with its lights flashing. This cop has decided that he’s going to cut through the medial strip and go back north on 130 to the guy with the gasoline can.
I started braking (probably because I was still freaked from the fender bender the day before) and it was lucky that I did so! The guy in front of me slammed on his brakes but slid into the rear of an old taxi. The taxi then, pulled to the right to avoid hitting the SUV in front of him, but clipped it anyway, knocking the rear passenger lights off.
There was a younger guy driving the Mazda in front of me so I told him I’d be a witness if they needed me. He was a wreck. Then I called the cops because this was a much worse collision then I’d had the day before. A cop came, took my info and told me I could leave. Then he stopped traffic so the other cars could pull off to the side of the road. As I drove away, the guy in the Mazda waved a thank you.
This morning – it was quiet.

Got Wedding?

An amazing adventure began somewhere back in 1979. Two families became inexplicably bound – first, through the Spirit, then through music. I won’t get into the details except to say that this Saturday, we celebrated together the wedding of the youngest J. sibling after having celebrated a total of 10 weddings, myriad christenings and several very difficult funerals. The P.’s and the J.’s have shared a lot of ups and downs and although it seems impossible, more than 25 years have elapsed and the music still flows as does – the milk. In fact, two of the culprits in the picture are highly successful children’s musicians… but that’s a story for another day.

So the point of this entry is that sharing music with the J boys and my brother at Church was inspiring to say the least. There’s such a feeling of heaven when you share space and time with folks you love. So much so that we immediately went into buffoon mode at the reception – you know we really know how to balance our lives!

First, Mike spilled beer on Jerry, which, of course, prompted the “Spiller in the Family” discussion. We have one in our family too… although he wasn’t at the wedding. Sue asked Karen, “So which of your kids got the ‘spilling gene’”? “Oh,” she sighed, “Peter got it.”

Well, don’t you know? Peter comes over to our table with a gallon of milk which promptly slips from his grasp, hits the floor, pops the lid and spills all over the floor. (Thank God, they had the sense to stick us in a dark corner.)

Karen and Sue just shook their heads and sighed together. You can’t make this stuff up!!

Got Wedding Part A

So about the sharing time and space… the prep for the Wedding (I know – I’m working backwards here) was a hoot. Mike, Ernie and I met at Mike’s house one night about two and a half weeks before the wedding and attempted to put together the music that would be needed for the church.

This turned out to be a larger obstacle than I expected. First, there was the whole – “the groom wanted to get married by a lake so he could go fishing afterwards…” thing. Then, the bride only really wanted one song – and we were banned from singing it during the ceremony because, even though it’s based on scripture, it isn’t liturgical. Ah, well, the challenges of selecting songs for a church wedding ceremony…

The sub-plot was that Mike was in the backyard when we arrived, setting up a tent so that Rebecca and a friend could camp out that night – in 90+ degree heat!

Karen explained that Mike was frazzled because they had a toilet that he couldn’t fix and she had just noticed that the LED on the thermostat for the central air conditioner was faded out and she couldn’t read it. She was afraid to tell him, thinking he would freak. She swore Ernie and me to secrecy so that we could get some productive work done.

The music selection went fairly well – even Ernie had some positive contributions. We chose some oldies but goodies and some new songs. I promised Ernie and Mike I would send MP3s of the 2 new tunes. Of course, we neglected to set a rehearsal date, so that when it became apparent that I would be unable to attend the church rehearsal (because I was prepping for the dreaded colonoscopy), Ernie ended up not being available for when I COULD practice. Mike, Neal and I had a productive rehearsal on Wednesday before the wedding.

On Saturday, Wedding Day, Neal, Denise and I began the drive down to Camden (yes, Camden, NJ – City of Violence). As we passed the Old Ivystone, Neal looked over and said, “Hey, when did that place become an old people’s home? I saw Yngwie Malmsteen there!!” I am not lying when I tell you that place has been an assisted living facility for probably more than 15 years. And it’s not like Neal hasn’t driven past it once a week for the last 20 years!!!!

We arrived at the church early enough that we had a bit of time prior to the actual wedding ceremony and used that time to brush up some of the newer stuff and set harmony parts and beginnings and endings. Mike mentioned that at the wedding rehearsal Thursday night, Father Mike had asked if we planned to sing the “Our Father”. Mike said, “I told him we didn’t plan on it.” I thought to myself “Good, it’s been a long time since I had actually played the one that Father Mike would’ve wanted us to play”. Moments later, Ernie said, “Oh by the way, Father Mike wanted to know if we were going to sing the Our Father. I told him we weren’t going to.” I was just about to say “Good…” when Father Mike came up to us and said, “We’re singing the Our Father right?” In unison we responded, “No Father Mike, we didn’t prepare it.” I started to figure out the chords just in case. I got more than halfway through the song and Ernie looked at me. “No – we’re not doing it, Peg.” I nodded and we began the prelude songs as people were starting to come into church.

The ceremony went well and when it came to the part where we all would pray the Our Father, Father Mike looked right over at us and said, “Now let us all raise our voices in song as we pray the Our Father.” I couldn’t really see the paper where I had jotted down the chords, but I did my best from memory, completely ad libbing the ending… We all just giggled through the song.

When ever we do one of these church gigs, there is always one song that we fear will be a challenge and we had one for this gig. It happened that we needed it during a quiet prayerful moment of indefinite length. We had planned to sing the refrain twice hoping that we’d only have to do one verse because Ernie and Mike – who were doing the verses – weren’t real confident with the 2^nd and 3^rd verses.

As it turned out, our bride ended up NOT saying much of a prayer and we’d barely got through the refrain once when I saw her returning to her space in front of the altar. I signaled for a quick end to the song only to watch Ernie have a conniption because he had practiced and practiced that song and never got to sing a verse!!! “It was the best we ever did it,” he blustered.

AH – church gigs…

Be Kind To Your Colon!

So-o-o-o… last week I experienced a miracle of modern medicine – the colonoscopy. I’m over 50 and have never had one so it was time. Having put it off for four years, I truly wasn’t looking forward to the adventure but decided it would be worth it in the end (ha, get it). Besides, it will be five years before I need another one and if I’m lucky I can put that off as well.
The procedure was scheduled for Friday so the fun began Thursday morning. I took my happy pill at 4 am with a piece of pretzel and that was the last solid food to be consumed for the next 36 hours or so. I drank sprite and beef consommé – never did get around to the chicken broth.
I left work early to set up VPN access for the human resources director of our company. She’s having knee replacement surgery and because she’s in so much pain, can work from home where she’ll be comfortable… also on days like Monday, when she has pre-admission testing from 10:00 to 2:00, she can work – do the testing and work without having to drive 60 miles round trip to work.
Oh, so, I got home at 4:15 and took the first 4 Visicol tablets with 8 ounces of water. 15 minutes later, the next 4 tablets with 8 ounces of water, etc., until I had consumed 20 of these gigantic pills that I gagged on by the end of the preparation. These lovely white gems draw water to your colon so that, um, things will start moving… which they did within an hour of the last pill sequence… just like the literature stated. I kind of just lay in bed and watched TV to take my mind off of everything.
Then at 9:00 pm, I took 4 – count ‘em, 4 – Dulcolax tablets and things really started happening. I guess I finally drifted off to sleep at 10:30 pm and awoke at 4:00 am for the final clean out. All in all, it wasn’t painful or uncomfortable. It just was!
Shel stayed home and took me to Voorhees for the procedure, after stopping at WaWa for coffee and cigarettes. By now, I had a bad headache from caffeine withdrawal. We got to the medical center and the stupid benefits credit card didn’t work so I had to write a check for $200 – awesome, huh!!
Eventually, they called me and Shel went to get breakfast. I got an IV, a hospital gown, robe and those little socks with treads. I walked into the operating/procedure room, hopped on the stretcher and was told to lie on my side. A nurse injected something into my IV and I asked if it would make me say stupid things. She said, “You won’t even have time to say…” I don’t know what else she said because the next thing I knew, I was in the recovery room.
The nurses were very cheerful and were actually singing Mellow Yellow, which they thought was a Beatles’ song. I let them know that it was Donovan. They were pretty young to really have known that. Then they were singing Lola by the Kinks and I think they though that was also by Donovan…It’s ok, like I said, they were pretty young.
Then the doctor came in and said everything looked good – no cancer – maybe some colitis. He took some biopsies and said “No aspirin, Motrin, etc. for a week. Follow up with me in three weeks and we’ll go over the biopsies.” He even showed me the pictures!
So, all in all, I’m pretty proud of my colon and decided to share a view with my friends. I sent an email with the following text:
The miracle of modern medicine makes it possible for me to share an image of my healthy colon... after a bunch of biopsies, i'm doing a-ok. NO CANCER - that was never even in the thought process... I'm just over 50 and never had one... maybe colitis but we have to wait for biopsy results...
... oh yeah, if it had been ERNIE'S colon it would've been funny.... I see how it is!
My friends immediately made comments like –
LOOKS LIKE THE INSIDE OF THE TERRACOTTA WINE COOLER!! – Tim
See,
If it was me, I would have had part of my colon removed.
Just so I could say that I had a semi-colon.
That's what I'm talkin' 'bout.
Fmwah,
Ernie
IF WE'RE HAVING A CONVERSATION ABOUT YOUR COLON, DOES THAT MEAN WE'RE HAVING A COLIN POW WOW? (BABA WAWA) – Tim again
An oldie but goodie – Jeff who sent this picture of his famous broken finger surgery…

And that about ends it for Be Kind To Your Colon week.

Eagles Pre-season – Hall of Fame Game

Well you KNEW this was going to happen sooner or later. First pre-season game of the 2006-2007 season… And WHO was there???? Not Ernie – he doesn’t come to pre-season gatherings. Not Neal – he just came back from vacation. Not Dooner – he’s in California – and besides, he probably needs an exemption for this season so I don’t even count him. AT LEAST HE CALLED when the Eagles scored.

Peg was there… of yeah, of course I was there. I tried not to be too loud, be cause we all know that only ERNIE can be loud and be funny. When I’m loud, it’s stupid and NOT funny. I’m a little bitter, of course, but I’ve been trying to control myself.I was talking “drunken gibberish” so a lot of F-bombs were dropped. I promise to try harder and better throughout the season. And also, I promise to be quieter… but I still love McNabb.

This is just amazing.

Back in May, my sister and I went out to get some perennials to plant. Perennials are flowers or plants that don’t die after their season is over. They bloom or grow every year. I got some sedum and stuff.

Then we went and got some herbs – basil and flat parsley – and I picked up a four tomato plants. Got home, got everything planted in containers on the deck and then our neighbor came over to borrow our wheelbarrow.

Our neighbor is a pretty cool guy. He just doesn’t own a wheelbarrow and has no plans to ever own one. We didn’t really care about him borrowing it because we weren’t using it and it’s kind of nice to know that a tool is being useful to SOMEONE.

When he returned the wheelbarrow, he brought over two zucchini plants, four pepper plants and five more tomato plants. “Thanks for letting us borrow the wheelbarrow. Here are some vegetable plants. If you can use them, great, I was just going to throw them out because I didn’t have enough space to plant them.”

Well neither did I… so I dug up an area near the deck and in went the vegetables.

Now it’s August and this is what I got!!!!