Oh well, it’s calories

My liquid diet needs more variety, so I picked up some juice drinks this morning. I’ve enjoyed them in the past, but now, with my messed up tastebuds, they taste very strange and not much like food. Sigh. Some day.

At last!

The tracheostomy tube was removed today. However, the bandage might be a bit of overkill.

More important than getting an annoying piece of plastic out of my throat, though, the doctor was pleased with what he saw when he ran the tiny camera through my nose and into my throat. And I was fascinated.

Before and after

As I looked in the mirror it occurred to me I no longer look anything like the bearded puffy-faced guy on my passport and driver license. Hmmm.

So I went online and found confirmation that, yes, people whose faces have changed dramatically (cosmetic surgery, deforming accidents, weight loss/gain, tattoo addition/removal, etc.) would need a new passport.

That puts a crimp in my plan to pick up medications in Mexico in a couple of weeks. New photo, paperwork, fees, waiting, yadda yadda yadda. And it means a DMV visit the next time I’m in Arizona. Whee!

Why the West?

A while back I started writing a post about the reasons I choose to wander in the West rather than other parts of the country. I got bogged down. Or maybe I started with an incomplete idea. Or too many ideas. For whatever reason, I didn’t finish it.

Then, as I watched the final episode of the 1996 PBS series The West, historian T. H. Watkins said something that struck me.

The Western landscape, in all its variety and drama and sense of wide open spaces, carries and enormous emotional weight—I think with not only Americans, but with much of the world. There’s always been a place in human history that became the repository, if you will, of all the dreams, hopes and aspirations of people. Some place that was always going to be better than where they were. The West still has that characteristic.

Yes! The West is certainly the repository of many of my dreams, hopes and aspirations. It was the place I needed to go to live the next phase of my life. A life that was more contented, richer, meaningful. The West—even at its worst—has not failed to be better than where I was, where my mind was, where my soul was. It’s where I feel completely at home.

Where I was

The past year’s travels will be remembered for less wandering and more days spent in hospitals. There were also more nights in hotels. Because sometimes, when I’d had enough too-hot or too-cold weather, I indulged.

Wisdom from a friend

I first met Joe in 2017 when he lived out of a Volkswagen. Here’s the link to a video I did with him.

He recently wrote an article entitled Stop Confusing Homeless and Houseless. He starts with his personal story then explains:

Defining homelessness simply by whether or not you have a home completely misses the point. 

I was houseless, yes; I was living without a traditional housing arrangement. 

But I was doing it on purpose, because I enjoyed it. That’s the big difference. 

…Most importantly, I had a way out if I grew unhappy with the lifestyle.

Homeless, Joe explains, is a different animal.

Real homelessness is living outside because you lack the ability, resources, or social status to pay rent and live inside, even though you’d prefer it. There’s nothing fun about that at all. 

…The distinction is important because so many people are suffering, and if people start to think homelessness is some kind of fun lifestyle experiment, it draws attention away from the absolute misery that the homeless endure. 

Joe continues:

…If we really want to help homeless people, I think we should help them meet their basic needs in a secure, stable way. Let’s give them homes first without presenting additional barriers. Let’s not withhold financial aid because they suffer from addiction. Let’s not make it hard for them to find bathrooms, water, food, or a place to sleep. Let’s not stigmatize them for mental illness or substance issues.

Doing myself a solid

Ceebs and I went looking for hats today. One of the advantages of a major city, especially one whose most famous industry involves costumes, is that there are many specialty clothing stores, including hat shops.

However, the first order of business was coffee for Ceebs. We pulled into the McDonald’s at the end of her block.

Ceebs asked, “Do you want anything? Some kind of food?”

“Maybe something simple. How about the chicken strip thing?” I had been thinking about solid food the past few days. This would be a test of my tastebuds and saliva glands.

I took a bite.

Okay, it tastes like something instead of nothing.

It tastes okay instead of nasty.

My mouth is a little dry but not too dry to finish chewing and swallowing.

Alright. Good. Progress.

I finished the first strip and saved the rest for later. I would observe how solid food sits in my stomach. (As I write this, so far, so good.)

As for the hats, I saw some that were close to what I was looking for, but none that said, “I am the damn hat you need!”

All shirt and no cattle

I went shopping today for some clothes that fit my new leaner body. I saw the cowboy shirts and thought, hell, why not? I chose red because it makes me happy.

Happy vanniversary

It’s the anniversary of the day I hit the road to freedom and a new, happier life. I never imagined I’d spend the day recovering from throat cancer.

I’ve had solid health all my life and had assumed that would be the trend for years to come.

Reality said, “Not so fast.”

I’ll be back on the road in a couple of weeks. That will be Vanniversary II. I hope there will be no need for Vanniversary III.

Reality chuckles.

Marking my calendar

I’ve been to the Neon Museum in Las Vegas. Very cool.

And I’ve been to Sparky’s in Hatch NM — a burger joint decorated with large advertising figures like the A&W Drive-In family. Also cool, with the added benefit of good food.

I stopped to visit with Miss Hubcap Capital of the World in Pearsonville CA.

I’ve even waved at Big Boy in a pasture near Wapiti WY.

Then today I learned about Bell Plastics, a company in Hayward CA devoted to making new advertising statues, often called Muffler Men, though not all the statues are men or even human. Once a year (like last week) they open their facility to visitors. I want to be there next August.

Wait, am I in Canada?

English and French on the package, but no Spanish. Metric measurements given priority in the listings. This ain’t no US market package, yet I bought it in California. At least I think I’m still in the US. Maybe I’m not and it’s all a freaky side effect of radiation therapy.

UPDATE: Oh, wait, I just figured it out. Someone at Charmin got confused and shipped this TP to La Cañada, California, north of Pasadena.

Hemmed in again

In the winter I usually hunker down in the border desert. Toward March I get restless and want to hit the road again, but the weather reports show disgustingly cold or wet weather all around me.

Now the flip side of that. I’ve been hunkered down in Los Angeles most of the summer but I’ll be able to return to the road in a couple of weeks. I’ve been checking the forecasts again and I’m surrounded by hellishly hot weather in nearly every direction.

Sigh.

No news, good news

Nothing to blog about this past week. I’ve just been relaxing, recovering and watching a lot of model building videos. (It used to be my big hobby.) My weight has stabilized, I have more energy, and my throat hurts considerably less. I have an appointment for the 5th to have the trach tube removed. Then I’ll head out on the road until the first week of December when I return to LA for a PET scan.

Oh, about the weight thing. I lost about 40 pounds the past few months. I’m under 200 pounds for the first time since, oh, high school. I’ve had to do a little clothes shopping. Pants are down from a snug 38 to a roomy 34, almost 33. T-shirts are down from 2XL to L. We’ll have to see how long the smaller self lasts.

Meanwhile

Lou has been making progress on kitchen cabinets and a closet. He teased me, saying the countertops will be something special. I guess I’ll have to go back in order to find out.

Continuing with the luck theme

It’s a rare and beautiful thing to work at a job you love with people you really like. I was lucky enough to have that for part of my career. It’s equally rare and beautiful that you still enjoy each other twenty to thirty years later.

When a friend/coworker learned I was in Southern California getting cancer treatment, she put together a combination celebration of my recovery and company reunion. I’m not much of a party goer, but there was no way I was going to miss this, even if it hadn’t been in my honor. It was an excellent gathering.

That’s the former CEO in the middle of the photo. Last night he said, “I wanted to make it the type of company I would enjoy working for.” He succeeded. I replied, “There were two things that meant a lot to me, and that I never got anywhere else. Acknowledgement of my value to the organization, and the reciprocation of loyalty.” We hugged.