Thursday, May 31, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Only in New York
Last night, Wilber and I were out to dinner at this little sidewalk cafe not far from my apartment. All of a sudden, a blood-curdling scream comes from this woman across the street. This scream was such that I jumped up from my table and people inside the rest came running out to see what was wrong with this woman.
Turns out, she was walking her dog and passed this guy walking his dog and the two dogs got into it a little bit. They had somehow locked jaws. This woman was hysterical. "Get him off! Oh my God! Get him off! You're going to have to pay for this! You'll have to pay for this!"
The guy walking his dog was an older gentleman, so now he's all shook-up on account of this young woman's screaming. Now, add the furious woman who lives in the apartment building in front of where all of this is taking place. She comes out and starts yelling (in her best native-Brooklyn speak) at the young woman for making such a scene and drawing people out of their homes with her hysterics. The young woman proceeds to call 911 to report the whole situation. Not really sure what she's going to report, but she calls nonetheless. In two minutes time, NYPD shows up followed by an unmarked police car which speeds up to the scene, parks in the middle of the intersection, and the two cops bolt out of the car.
Wait, it gets better. Then the paramedics show up. Not kidding. The ambulance arrives and they hop out so now we have: the young woman in hysterics, the Brooklynite woman yelling at her, the older gentleman shaking his head, 4 cops, 2 paramedics, and street corners full of bystanders. It was really quite the scene.
After everyone collected themselves and the unmarked police car sped away squealing its tires (not kidding), the girl at the table to Wilber and me leans over and says, "I don't what the big deal is. Besides, that woman's dog probably said something bitchy to the other dog anyway." Only in New York, my friends, only in New York.
Turns out, she was walking her dog and passed this guy walking his dog and the two dogs got into it a little bit. They had somehow locked jaws. This woman was hysterical. "Get him off! Oh my God! Get him off! You're going to have to pay for this! You'll have to pay for this!"
The guy walking his dog was an older gentleman, so now he's all shook-up on account of this young woman's screaming. Now, add the furious woman who lives in the apartment building in front of where all of this is taking place. She comes out and starts yelling (in her best native-Brooklyn speak) at the young woman for making such a scene and drawing people out of their homes with her hysterics. The young woman proceeds to call 911 to report the whole situation. Not really sure what she's going to report, but she calls nonetheless. In two minutes time, NYPD shows up followed by an unmarked police car which speeds up to the scene, parks in the middle of the intersection, and the two cops bolt out of the car.
Wait, it gets better. Then the paramedics show up. Not kidding. The ambulance arrives and they hop out so now we have: the young woman in hysterics, the Brooklynite woman yelling at her, the older gentleman shaking his head, 4 cops, 2 paramedics, and street corners full of bystanders. It was really quite the scene.
After everyone collected themselves and the unmarked police car sped away squealing its tires (not kidding), the girl at the table to Wilber and me leans over and says, "I don't what the big deal is. Besides, that woman's dog probably said something bitchy to the other dog anyway." Only in New York, my friends, only in New York.
Friday, May 18, 2007
My Music
Next to God, music is the thing that is nearest to me at all times in my life. I've got a song in my head all day, everyday, from morn til night. It's part of what makes me me. A co-worker once asked me, "Can't you ever stop singing?" The answer to that is no. The ceasing of my singing will signal my passing.
Music is my therapy. It's the way I decompress, veg out, connect to God, connect to other people or events. Whenever I return home from someplace I've been, from a particular experience, I continue to relate to said experience via the music associated with it. It helps me not go into withdrawal for the people or emotions that surrounded the experience.
The last two weeks I was in Virginia, I drove around in my dad's 3/4 ton extended-cab long-bed 4x4 pickup. It was freakin' awesome. A man's vehicle, no doubt. The songs I played continuously, that I'm playing as we speak, are Jars of Clay's "Redemption Songs" and "I Need You" by Tim McGraw and Faith Hill. They are the songs that connect me to my dad and to my brothers (who were in the pickup with me).
What's your method of connecting to past experiences? If it's music, feel free to share a few of the songs you've turned to.
Music is my therapy. It's the way I decompress, veg out, connect to God, connect to other people or events. Whenever I return home from someplace I've been, from a particular experience, I continue to relate to said experience via the music associated with it. It helps me not go into withdrawal for the people or emotions that surrounded the experience.
The last two weeks I was in Virginia, I drove around in my dad's 3/4 ton extended-cab long-bed 4x4 pickup. It was freakin' awesome. A man's vehicle, no doubt. The songs I played continuously, that I'm playing as we speak, are Jars of Clay's "Redemption Songs" and "I Need You" by Tim McGraw and Faith Hill. They are the songs that connect me to my dad and to my brothers (who were in the pickup with me).
What's your method of connecting to past experiences? If it's music, feel free to share a few of the songs you've turned to.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
The Last Two Weeks
I arrived back in New York last night after having been away for a couple of weeks in northern Virginia with my family.
Long story short: My dad has bacterial endocarditis. The particular bacteria causing his infection has only been documented twice before in medical literature. His doctors are baffled by this bug and where Daddy picked it up. The infection caused an aneurysm in his brain which leaked and had to be repaired. His aortic valve and part of the heart muscle itself also had to be replaced. Nasty infection, really. After two surgeries, less than a week apart, he is recovering remarkably with no neurologic deficits. He'll be on IV antibiotics for the next couple of months at home, but that's okay. I'm grateful that he's on this side of those operations. I love you, Daddy.
My entire family flew in to be with my dad during these last two weeks. It was beyond wonderful to spend time with them, especially Josh and Matthew. I miss my brothers. We're already making plans to move back nearer each other.
Fairfax Church of Christ, where my dad and Sharon attend, was incredible in their support of my dad and the rest of the Joneses. They spent the nights in the ICU waiting room, just to be on hand for us. They brought meals to wherever we were. They donated an entire house to my family so that we could move in for as long as we needed and not have to worry about hotel expenses. They took off work to take care of us. It was really moving to seem them serve, as one body. I will cherish their relationship to my family.
My own church family at CCfB was wonderful in their support. Countless emails and text messages reminded me that I was not alone and that our family was covered in prayer. I felt that. Thank you Father for the people in our lives who give of themselves and who let us know they care. May I extend that same spirit of service to others.
Long story short: My dad has bacterial endocarditis. The particular bacteria causing his infection has only been documented twice before in medical literature. His doctors are baffled by this bug and where Daddy picked it up. The infection caused an aneurysm in his brain which leaked and had to be repaired. His aortic valve and part of the heart muscle itself also had to be replaced. Nasty infection, really. After two surgeries, less than a week apart, he is recovering remarkably with no neurologic deficits. He'll be on IV antibiotics for the next couple of months at home, but that's okay. I'm grateful that he's on this side of those operations. I love you, Daddy.
My entire family flew in to be with my dad during these last two weeks. It was beyond wonderful to spend time with them, especially Josh and Matthew. I miss my brothers. We're already making plans to move back nearer each other.
Fairfax Church of Christ, where my dad and Sharon attend, was incredible in their support of my dad and the rest of the Joneses. They spent the nights in the ICU waiting room, just to be on hand for us. They brought meals to wherever we were. They donated an entire house to my family so that we could move in for as long as we needed and not have to worry about hotel expenses. They took off work to take care of us. It was really moving to seem them serve, as one body. I will cherish their relationship to my family.
My own church family at CCfB was wonderful in their support. Countless emails and text messages reminded me that I was not alone and that our family was covered in prayer. I felt that. Thank you Father for the people in our lives who give of themselves and who let us know they care. May I extend that same spirit of service to others.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)