Chicago Boondoggle

Well she is off again. Flannery has finagled a "work trip" into a semi-vacation and has left yours truly to hold down the fort while she meets up with Bubs at Hala-Kahiki, a swanky Tiki bar. There isn't too much of blogdom that she hasn't met. Coaster Punchman & Poor George, Beckeye, Dr. Monkey Von Monkerstein, and many others I'm sure. I've gotten to meet Some Guy, but only because he came to my house.

Now she is off to Chicago, home of good blues, good food, good Tiki bars, and good people, while I am at home like a dog chained up in the backyard. She is meeting up with Johnny Yen, Grant Miller, and Bubs & MizBubs. There may be more, I don't know, as she hid the guest list from me and droned on and on about what a grueling week of "work" she had to look forward to. "Sure honey, whatever you say."

I'm not really as bitter and disgruntled as I sound. I'm just disappointed that, once again, I'm missing out on meeting some of the fine folks that I've gotten to know from reading their blogs. I know every time she has to go out of town it is something of a draining experience for her and she comes home tired and spent, ready to climb into her own little bed and sleep for a week. I'm glad that she at least gets to have a night on the town with friends and I'm certain it will be the highlight of the trip. She promised to take lots of pictures and I can't wait to see them, as it is always nice to have some photos to go with the wonderful tales that she inevitably brings home.

So here's to you Windy City, and to Bubs for showing a nice lady a good time on the nickel tour. Hoist a cold one for me and know that while I'm keeping the home fires burning, I'm grateful for your hospitality even if I didn't get the chance to experience it.

And Flannery, have a grand time, but hurry home. I love ya, and I miss you something awful.

Your lovin' man,
Doc

In Honor Of George, Let's Have Some Sacrilege.

What better way to console the grieving than to provide some music to salve their aching, broken heart? And what music better expresses the pain and anguish of loss better than the blues? With that, I give you this:

In no way should the above be confused with a grand master like this:

I know I didn't sleep at all last night. Maybe I just need to get my perscription filled. I've got milk and cream, I just need the third.

Doc

(I still feel damn blue, so the blue stays a while longer)

Doc's Lament, or, Have You Got A Shoulder I Could Use?

I left my home in Georgia

Headed for the 'Frisco bay

'Cause I've had nothing to live for

And look like nothin's gonna come my way

--Otis Redding, Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay.

***

I must be getting weak and sentimental in my old age. Flannery has been out of town all week and I have been a fucking mess without her. She has had to go out of town for work many, many times in the past and I've always managed just fine. I missed her sure, but I wasn't devastated, heart broken, and lonely as hell.

I'll admit, in times past, I somewhat looked forward to her trips. I'd buy a big bag of salt and vinegar potato chips, hot fries, and BBQ pork rinds, ice down a dozen beers and watch war movies, westerns, and action pictures to my hearts content. I ate snacks she doesn't care for, fixed dinners of things that I like to eat, and watched flicks she didn't like. I felt it was good quality "Me Time" well spent. She would be home in a few days and tell me of her adventures, the people she met and mingled with, the funny thing that happened, and all the lurid gossip.

I would tell her of my laying about and watching T.V. and how lucky she was to be staying out of town two nights ago because a pork rind/s&v chip/hot fries/beer diet tends to catch up with a person after the third day.

We celebrated her homecoming, had a nice meal, and would sit and talk for hours. Then we would snuggle up in bed and turn on some Mystery Science Theater 3K and fall asleep to the robots as we enjoyed each other's company again.

But this time it is different. I'm not sure why, but it is. I miss her like crazy.

Sure, she calls and I talk to her at least twice a day. But still, I miss her much. I'd be a liar if I said I didn't replay the twenty-second message on the answering machine more than twice. It was just a simple "sorry I missed you, will call later, I love you, goodbye." But Damn, she knows how to say I love you.

I feel adrift with her gone. I know she is an hour and a half away but somehow that just makes it worse. A gross as this may sound but I feel amputated somehow. I could manage a few days with one arm or the other out of commission, or if one leg was gimped up. It would be hard, but I would manage. But I feel as if I have lost something much more dear than my good right arm.

I've lost my heart. I sent it to Cleveland with Flannery.

To match my mood, I have selected an oldie but a goodie. Sit back, where ever you are, and bask in the morning sun, watch the tide, listen to the gulls, and count the boats.

As pleasant as the tune is, it has always sounded somewhat sad to me. He recorded this three days before his death. It was his only #1 hit on the Billboard Hot 100, and was a departure from the bulk of his other work. (thank you wikipedia)

Flannery will be home tomorrow night, and in the mean time I'm going to have a PBR, sort socks, and watch "Beerfest" to cheer myself up.

I hope you have a grand Friday and you make all the lights, cash a big check, kiss someone you love, and drink responsibly. Or at least in groups of four or more. There is at least a 75% chance you won't have to be the designated driver that way.

Doc