The therapists at John Heinz were as incredibly talented as I am hammer-headed. With that said, a big comeback was my plan from the getgo. I said big, not quick. Here I am five years removed, and I just now feel like typing again. Bad news for the lot of you, but I see it as good.
As for lingering deficits, the muscle memory in my fret hand is all but gone. No more guitar torture. I'm ranging around just fine. The doctors would not allow me to return to my job. Too physical, say they. I have added an electric hub motor on the front tire of my beloved Hummer, so the bikeabouts will soon resume.
The unexpected health emergency put the brakes on my long-sought meeting with my father and that has pained me since I now know his exact whereabouts in Alsea, Oregon. Yeah, that's Oregon, as in 2900 miles away. I"m working on the logistics and the like for the trip. By the way, they like the pronunciation to amount to ore-gun not gone. Nobody's gone.
I now reside in Plains Township. No, we don't miss the drugs, the shootings and all of the other nasty forms of reverse-gentrification that diversity provides us. Quiet works. Yeah, white flight is a workable plan afterall. Hell, I don't even listen to the police scanner anymore.
I would have never believed the end of the world could be so completely entertaining. Save for Putin and Biden, you people are hilarious. Without Sue and Rush, WILK is over for me. Wilkes-Barre is also over, although, not only for me. Thanks to the aforementioned diversity, the cities are losing their tax bases. And when the money goes away, so go the cities.
The core group of five grandchildren have accepted two expansion franchises: Kroy (6) and Koury (3). Like that? Koury Cour? In the past year we've had two finish high school and another finish kindergarten. Gettin' crowded, but I love it. My only regret about having children is that I had too few.
On a brief aside, when I was being placed in the ambulance five years ago, the EMT asked "aren't you the guy with the blog?" Yup, i'm THAT effin' guy. Somehow, I didn't get the cyanide drip. Now I'm just another brain-damaged guy with a blog.
Trump in '24!
Buh-bye
2 comments:
I was wondering where the hell you got to!
I got a mysterious message from you telling me to go to some website or call some number, I forget which, and I figured you had been hacked. Maybe that really was you.
Glad you're back to being your old self.
Mark:
I had no idea! From one blogger to another, glad to see your back and good luck with the recovery.
Andy Palumbo
Post a Comment