The Adventures of Fric and Frac: Adventure 420: Fracless Day Ten

Ice Cream all gone.

I had a dream recently where I was watching myself from a safe vantage point. So, in this out of body experience my safe self was watching my unsafe self body surfing on a huge wave shaped like a half moon, a mass of foaming power. I floated on it like a soap bubble. I remember feeling the motion as I was hurled forward toward the beach. I had no control, and no choice but to "go with the flow". Eventually, I was tossed off the wave as easily as a cow's tail whipping a small fly off its back. I tumbled, unhurt, onto the beach. My safe self thought my unsafe self looked like the Wiley Coyote in the midst of another of his outrageous crashes, which of course, he deserved as punishment for trying to harm that sweet little "beep", "beep".. I don't know the meaning of the dream, but it did wake me up, and as I shook myself into consciousness, I physically checked to see if I was all right. I guess I am because here I am riding this current wave of reality. I've heard that some Christians who battle adversity say, "God doesn't give us more than we can handle." So, this morning when I woke up with the sore throat, and when I discovered that the refrigerator water filter required replacing, and when I discovered that Dad had flushed one of the straps holding his catheter bag down the toilet, I asked, 'Really?" In reality, these small trials are so insignificant, they're ludicrous, and except for the sore throat (which could bloom into a bigger issue), I found it all quite funny. We've had a good morning otherwise. Dad's eaten applesauce, chicken broth, cranberry/orange juice, a small bowl of ice cream, three glasses of water, and two orange slices so far. While not active, he is awake, and his physical appearance is rosy. I don't think he's ready to move into the general population, but I'm going to try and keep him awake for a while, and I'll make an effort to get some chicken noodle soup into him at lunch. In the meantime, I've got gameshows blaring in the background as I type this. Last night, I made the trip out to my friend, Dave Ulmen's house. He's in the beginning stages of cancer treatment, which so far he is tolerating quite well. Meanwhile, he's living the good life. His youngest son and wife and grandson, Gus, spent this weekend at home. His oldest son and wife and granddaughter, Celia , come this week, and next week, his middle son and wife (no progeny yet) come. Nothing makes the ride better that family, especially the grandchildren. I only have three; they're all great. I can only imagine what my former in-laws, Jack and Chotsie O'Brien, felt when they were surrounded by theirs. They had 35, and more if we count marrieds, adoptees, etc. Regardless of the number, I imagine their joy was much the same. I know that Dave and Liz take joy in theirs. It's likely true for most of us. Which brings me to my observation of the day. Back in the sixties a musician named Cannonball Adderly had a song called "Walk Tall". It was a message to African Americans to stay true to the struggle. He said in part. "There's a lot of funky stuff coming down, a lot of rain and thunder, a lot of cold weather, but none of that matters until the storm begins to get you down." He said, "You must face the storm, you must walk tall right into it, take its full force with pride, and never bend under the raging wind." I like that idea, and I also like the comfort of a safe refuge. Family and friends provide that safe place. So, that then helps make life good, especially today.

Boot Camp report: Three shots of bourbon ingested; very little exercise, except for the first sixty-eight moves of the form; random, mindless food consumed as a pitifully weak stress response.