2012 Cherry Blossom Festival, Washington, D.C.

What better way to resurrect the Scot-Spot after a long hiatus than to talk about flowers. What can I say, I'm all about nature. There is nothing more peaceful than walking through a beautiful garden on a sunny afternoon.

However, when it comes to cherry trees, thousands of others agree, as evidenced during the 2012 Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington, D.C.  Due to the warm weather, the trees bloomed earlier than usual, peaking on March 23. How I came to be here on this fabulous day is a tale of random, wanton spontaneity, sprinkled with a touch of boredom.

I had purchased a Nikon D5100 as an early Christmas present last November, but  I really hadn't put it to good use yet. I had tested it out on random things, such as the sky, abandoned buildings and squirrels, but really didn't use it to its fullest potential. Knowing that the festival was fast approaching, I thought it would be the best venue to try it out for sure. I knew the vivid colors of the flowers and blossoms under an azure sky would be a lovely subject.

Little would I know that because of the aforementioned early peak, my window for the best photos was very short. That, coupled with a very unfavorable weather report for the following weekend, spurred me to act quickly. Luckily, I was blessed with a ridiculously light workload for a Friday. So, I had packed all my gear in the car the night before in anticipation for booting it towards Washington as soon as the shackles were released.

Having grown up in the area, I knew full well driving into town would be a sadomasochistic exercise. Anarchy reigns during the festival. To this end, Metro was my salvation. Of course, once I arrived at the Tidal Basin, the grounds were writhing with the mass exodus of the unwashed yuppie masses. It seems that at least once a year most people feel compelled to return to worship the sun god and woodland spirits, as our ancestors of old. I suppose I was no different.

I completed a lap around the Tidal Basin, fighting the tides of tourists who didn't seem to know which direction they wanted to go. The whole time it seemed I was a small boat tossed about on the stormy seas. And I didn't even have the Captain to share my misery with.

Truth be told, it really was an enjoyable experience. I'd like to thank the gentleman who, as I was setting up the camera and tripod by the Washington Monument, shook my hand and wished me a blessed day. All because I said I was doing this for my blog. Flowers really do bring out the best in people.

Flooding In Central Pennsylvania, Part Deux

Now that the threat of small streams and creeks overflowing have subsided, all eyes have turned to the Susquehanna River itself. Though this flood is not one of the worst that's happened here in the Harrisburg area, its effects are still devastating. Though there is significant property damage, loss of life has been minimal.

For some reason, I have a fascination for natural disasters. Of course, I don't like the human suffering component about them, as the horrors in Japan defy description. Nonetheless, there's something about the awesome power of Mother Nature that mesmerizes. Humans can try all they might to try to harness it, but she will always prevail.

Here are some images showing the Susquehanna River today, just after it crested at 20.09 feet around noon today.

Corner of Front and Market Streets, West Fairview. Don't expect that car to run anytime soon.

North Front Street, on the Susquehanna - Middle Paxton Township line, near Fort Hunter.

North parking lot on City Island. Don't let the banners on the poles fool you, this is definitely March. The City of Harrisburg is so broke that it seems they couldn't afford calendars this year.

This unknown bicyclist made it a point to tell me that the water was "cold." Never mind the strong current.

Parking garage in City Island's south parking lot.  You can see the "Pride of the Susquehanna" riverboat to the right; normally it's dry docked on the pavement for the winter, but it's actually floating again in this picture.

Flooding In Central Pennsylvania

First of all, I want to convey my thoughts and prayers to all the victims and their families of today's major earthquake in Japan. To put things in perspective, that makes the widespread flooding occurring here a mere nuisance. I'm almost embarrassed to even post about the flooding.

However,  that is the big story here in Pennsylvania for the moment. I thought I'd share a couple pictures that were taken earlier today down the road from where I live. Since I live in a narrow mountain valley with only one main road, flooding effectively cuts me off from the rest of the world. So, just for today, I'm enjoying my little "castle" with the nature-made moat effectively protecting me from the oncoming hordes. For some reason I thought I saw a large wooden rabbit earlier.

These photos were taken earlier today, on Clarks Valley Road (PA Route 325) in Middle Paxton Twp., Dauphin County.

Westbound. As with every flood, some fool thinks their Nissan is an amphibious assault vehicle. That is the farthest they were able to go before their engine quit.

Several locals looking on at the spectacle. We tried to stop them. Honest.

This poor family (not poor literally) gets the brunt of the floods every time. You'd think they'd get the hint...

I wouldn't be going that way any time soon. Then again, this is someone's driveway.

This old stone arch bridge always intrigued me. One of these days I'm actually going to take the time to research it. I'm actually standing on the newer "singing" bridge on the highway, facing North.

This bridge is about 200 yards further up the road, heading Eastbound. The water is about three to four inches from the deck.

BEWARE OF SOCIAL NETWORKING SPAM!!!!

This is an alert to avoid, whenever possible, the social networking site known as WAYN.com (Where Are You Now). A long time ago, I had signed up on WAYN.com for gits and shiggles, just to see what it was like. I was attracted to its travel theme. However, as soon as I created an account, I realized it was a big mistake. I immediately was spammed by every creeper from Amsterdam to Angola. Needless to say, the conversations, if you could have one (you need to pay money to access the enhanced features), were not travel related. Discouraged, I walked away from the site, never to use it again. However, it doesn't end there.

Just today, I received an E-mail from the site stating that somebody with some crazy name (Mbupu? Mwananabala? Ghaddafi?) wanted to be my friend. I didn't click on the E-mail for obvious reasons, but this reminded me nonetheless that I still had an active account with WAYN. So, I did what I thought was the logical thing, and logged into the site to deactivate my account. As soon as I logged in, my browser went haywire! I was redirected to one of those fake virus scan sites, and a program was trying to download and open automatically. Luckily for me I use Firefox, which has excellent blocking capabilities, and also luckily for me, is that these cyber-miscreants were dumb enough to create their own pop-up windows that looked like Windows XP (I use Windows 7 now, fellas!) I also have Microsoft Security Essentials which is a great anti-virus utility. I strongly recommend it, but I digress.

I just wanted to put the heads-up out there to avoid WAYN.com. It will certainly save you a lot of headaches.

Update On Dad

I just found out about an hour ago that dad's blood test came back with a low T-cell count. We (as in the rest of the family) are also noticing that his speech and memory problems are beginning to become noticeable again. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it's only a side-effect of the radiation treatments he finished about two weeks ago, along with the industrial-strength chemicals he has to ingest on a daily basis. He does have a final follow-up appointment with his surgeon on Wednesday and there's another MRI to come soon. Hopefully it doesn't reveal any unwanted surprises.

Other than that, we're taking it day by day. The Christmas tree finally came down today, so now it's just dreary blah-ness for the next two months or so.

My Own Health Scare...

First of all, I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving holiday.

In all this taking care of everyone else, I somewhat neglected myself. Just before Thanksgiving, I was knocked on my butt with some sort of infection that nearly swelled my throat shut. Mega doses of antibiotics got rid of it, but not without losing about ten pounds. Because I couldn’t swallow, I had to eat baby food! I have to give credit to my ex for helping nurse me back to health; then again, I was practically evicted from my parents’ place as my illness would put my dad, with his lowered immunity system, in danger. I just hope I don’t have to go through that again.

God Bless the Cancer Survivors

As I'm sitting in the waiting room while my dad is having his treatment, I am struck by the many different folks here who are going through the same thing he is. They are all here for different reasons: the grandmother who relies on oxygen to breathe; the twenty-something man who needs a hand held device to speak. Rich, poor...cancer sure doesn't discriminate. Yet, they're here, with the hope that they can beat it. I can't get over how positive the atmosphere here is, also; you'd think that a cancer ward would be a bastion of desperation and despair. However, that's not the case. Here, there's no such thing as if they'll beat cancer, it's when. This makes my problems seem a little more...petty.

My Thoughts on Joe Paterno's 400th Win

I couldn’t have been more proud to be a Penn State alumnus than I was last night. It’s not often that anyone has the opportunity to witness history; all from row 19 on the 35 yard line. I sat, with 104,147 souls, as we went through heartbreak, misery, the halftime show…then the heightened excitement (and if you’re a Northwestern fan, heightened excrement) as the boys in blue and white pounded back from near oblivion, to the elation of achieving a hard-earned victory; Joe Paterno’s 400^th.

Okay, so I fluffed up the language a little. It was a bit better than saying “over 100 thousand drunken idiots were screaming holy hell…” But, still, regardless if you’re a Penn State fan or not, you must admit that Joe Paterno is one class act. So what if he started coaching during the McKinley administration, and he’s about to celebrate his 147^th birthday in December. The point is he still knows how to win. And, do it the right way. There’s no cutting corners. You step out of line, and you clean out your locker. That simple. And, hit the books. Winning isn’t everything, but an education is.

I admire a man who has a competitive spirit but is willing to do the right thing to achieve the best results. That shows a lot of patience. Just like last night; sure, when we were down 21 points just before the half, the lads in blue could have all just assumed the fetal position, or at the very least play not to lose too badly. But, hoo no, not this team. Not with Matt “gee, I have nothing to lose because I’m the backup anyway so let’s kick some ass” McGloin. It was a miracle that Joe decided to put him in there to begin with, considering he’s very loyal to his first-stringers. Not this time.

I’m only going to say that the honor of being college football’s winningest coach couldn’t go to a more deserving coach. Well done, Joe.

We are….Penn State.

Joe Paterno wins No. 400 after Penn St. rallies from 21 down (from the Associated Press)

Doctors SUCK

Today, I found out just how much doctors don't value your time.

Finally, the ball is rolling on my dad's treatments; it took a phone call from my mother to the doctor to discover they hadn't even processed his paperwork yet. It was sitting on someone's desk, probably encrusted with coffee stains and neon-glow cheesy poof crumbs. But, at least they said, "oh, geez...come in tomorrow for an MRI at 1:30, then there's two more appointments: one at 2:30, and the next on Thursday morning at 9:30." Okay, fine. Forget the fact that I'm the one who has to drive him there: "Uh, boss, I just found out that you'll be losing two half-days of productivity from me with no notice because of scheduling incompetence." Luckily, her attitude was that of "you gotta do what you gotta do." Whew. So, that being said, I get to my parents' house, when my mother tells me the appointment was moved up to 1:15. "*Teeth grinding* sure, *twitch* no problem *twitch twitch*."

I went to work earlier than usual today, then left to go to the appointments. They were long, but necessary. But, hey, as a consolation prize, I was treated to *ahem* Chinese (shhh, you didn't hear that). After we got back to the house, which was around 6:30, we discovered a voice mail from the doctor's office for tomorrow's appointment. [nasal voice] "We need to change your appointment time to 3:30 p.m." @#^%^$#%**($!!!!! Now, I have to go in to work tomorrow morning, which no one expects me to do since I haven't been able to tell anyone of the change, just to leave early again! Those f@#$ing *bleep* *bleep* *BLEEEEEEEEP*...

Finally Got the House Sold

The house on South 2nd.

After many months of suffering, anguish, and mayhem, my grandparents’ house is finally sold! Thanks to the soaring costs of health care for the elderly, we were forced to put the old homestead up for auction to help pay for grandma’s ongoing medical care at a local nursing home. It’s sad to let go of a place that’s been in the family for 66 years, but it needed a lot of work, and no one in the family was in any position to buy it.

It was a long, busy day.

What we found astonishing was the amount of crap my grandparents accumulated over their lifetimes. We found whole sets (with an “s”) of fine china; one set was wrapped in newspaper dated from 1944! I collect old maps, so I got to inherit a multitude of old atlases and road maps; my prized finds are a Pennsylvania State Highway Map from 1937, and a visitor’s map to Philadelphia from the Democratic National Convention of 1936. It required two auctions to get rid of it all; one in late August, and the other was yesterday.

One good thing that came of this was the workout I got moving furniture, tables, and running items up stairs from a holding area in the basement. When our role was finished, which was about one in the afternoon, I got to take a hike through the town to blow off steam, and soak up the beautiful mid-October day.

This sums up the whole experience: "'arrowing"

Now that the saga of the house is finished, my dad can focus completely on his recovery; and although I don’t need to help with the house anymore, the challenge remains to take care of his needs while trying to squeeze in my own. Even today, there was no respite; we had to resume the weekly ritual of visiting my grandmother at the assisted-living facility, and breaking the news to her that her house was no longer hers. In a way, though, her suffering with Alzheimer’s seemed to be a blessing; her response was, “What’s for lunch?”

The Shoes Make the Man

Today, I finally got to walking again! I hit the ol' treadmill for about an hour, and it felt great. I tell you one thing, the shoes make the man. A couple months ago, I went out on a limb and bought a pair of relatively inexpensive toning shoes (the kind with the rounded sole), at a local box store. I was curious to see if the "hype" regarding how they burn fat and tone was just that. Well, I have to say, after walking for an hour straight in them, I'm feeling it. I'm disappointed, though, at the limited selection for men; one of the chief complaints I've heard about them is purely aesthetic (they look like platforms, man!) Hey, I don't care; they're comfy, and they seem to be doing the trick.

Back in the Saddle Again

Current weight: 305 lbs

After everything that’s been going on with my dad the last couple of weeks, I haven’t had a lot of time to hit the gym, track, or anything else of usefulness to yours truly (excuses, excuses). I have, however, rediscovered the magical realm of the refrigerator, and that’s a bad thing. Luckily, yesterday I had to help move some furniture at my grandparents’ old house, so I suppose that could count as some physical activity. Obviously, I need to do better than that. That’s why, starting tonight, I’m jumping back on the wagon, provided it slows down enough for me to catch it. I had  fish for dinner with veggies on the side, so that’s a good start.

Dad Returns Home...Now the Work Begins

In a surprising turn of events, my dad was discharged from the hospital this afternoon, sooner than expected. Many of us were expecting him home tomorrow at the earliest. That's a good thing, but now the long treatment begins. He's still physically weak but alert.

I know one thing; crises tend to bring about the weirdest circumstances, and sometimes small miracles occur (and we could use them). For instance, having my dad laid up has my mother (bless her) in a tizzy. She has zero medical knowledge. My ex-spouse, however, is a trained Certified Nurse Aide, but they really don't see eye-to-eye about, well, everything. However, tonight, my ex is caring for my dad with my mom's blessing, and they're actually getting along! Can you hear the angels?

Dad's Back to His Ol' Self

I didn't have an opportunity to post anything yesterday because I was picking up where my dad left off in preparing my grandparents' old house for sale. He was doing most of the work, but for obvious reasons now he's going to have to hang up that job for a while. I did get to see him briefly last evening, and he's starting to look better. He was more responsive, and at his insistence we put the Penn State game on for him on the TV in his room. The dude loves his Lions, but even he admitted that he probably wouldn't be able to stay awake for the whole game.

I didn't get an opportunity to visit with him today, but my mother and brother did. Apparently, he was even more alert than he was last night. He admitted that he stayed awake for all but the last eight minutes of the football game, and that was only because he knew at that point Penn State was done for. We found out why he wasn't eating that much; in a nutshell, the hospital was feeding him crap. My dad is a notoriously picky eater, and there are several taboo foods you never feed him: mushrooms, peppers, onions, green beans, any kind of barbecue sauce on meat, to name a few. My mother got a hold of the menu yesterday, and picked out stuff he'll actually eat; and today, he was wolfing his food down. Things are looking good for a possible Tuesday release; and that's when he'll find out about the fauna faux pas I had on Thursday night with his van. Gulp.

Maybe in a couple days I'll actually resume writing about my workouts, or lack thereof as is the case now. One thing I can say; tonight, I finally had culinary freedom to make whatever I wanted, and I chose sloppy joes with a side salad (I omitted the bun and used lean ground beef). It was darn tasty.

The Day After...

Today was the first twenty-four hours after my dad's surgery, and the reality hasn't set in yet. In fact, I went to work today, and put in the only full day of work this week. Other than answering the requisite "So how did your dad's surgery go?" seventeen times, the day was, well, normal. I did the same work I always did, and my co-workers heaped more work upon me like they always do. Some things got done in my absence, many others did not. Such is the way of things.

I was jolted to reality somewhat when my brother and I went to the hospital to pick up our mother, who sat vigilant by our dad's side all day long. Because he is still tired from the surgery, he slept almost the entire time, so she told us. He only came to when his sister visited around noon, and again when the nurse came in while we were there. He recognized us, and understood us. Though my brother and I didn't see it, my mother said that his words are still muddled. His face was bruised and swollen, like he was mugged. But, I still hold out hope that he's going to beat this. The waiting for the biopsy results are what's torture; it now looks that next Thursday is the day the results should be ready. Is it cancer, or not?

When It Rains, It POURS...

I had to chuckle at the irony of the title I chose for today's post. Today, it just happens to be pouring rain. Nevertheless, today my dad had his surgery. We had to check in at 5:45 a.m., which for me is far to early to be doing anything, let alone surgery; then again, I wasn't getting the surgery, so never mind the complaining. The surgery, if routine, was supposed to last about three hours. After six hours, the doctor finally came to the waiting room, and after seeing his face, I could tell he didn't have good news. We went into a side consultation room, where the doctor was forced to admit he was unable to completely remove the tumor. It turned out to be a monster, which with a life of it's own, had rooted itself deeply into various parts of my dad's brain. It had grown malignant. The doctor was able to get out most of it, but now my dad faces six months or more of combined chemotherapy and radiation treatments. Today, my dad became a cancer patient.

I may be jumping the gun a little, for the official verdict won't be determined until next Tuesday, when the biopsy is complete. However, the doctor said that it is most likely the case that this tumor is indeed brain cancer. But, when he said that, we couldn't help but look at each other to see if my dad was just handed a death sentence. I shook it off, though; I want to be optimistic. Some microwaving and mustard gas will save the day, right? (For those who don't know, chemo drugs at one time were by-products of mustard gas.) I hope it works, since my dad was "Mister Fix-It" around the house; tonight, already the power was out and the roof started leaking. But, it isn't all gloom and doom; he did eventually wake up several hours later in ICU, and recognized everyone and was responsive. Sadly, his speech was garbled, which is what we were told to expect. At his request, prior to the operation, he asked that he be left alone to rest the first night, which is tonight.

As for my diet? Forget it. We had Chinese for dinner. I didn't fall off the wagon; I jumped. But, I did weigh myself earlier today, and I did lose two pounds. Thank God for little miracles.

I haven't even reached the climax of the day yet. After my dad's surgery, after the news of his grim prognosis and long recovery, after the pouring rain, and after drowning my sorrows in sweet and sour chicken...

...I hit a deer on the way home, while driving my dad's $30,000 leased 2008 Dodge Caravan.

When it rains, it pours.

"The Wake-Up Call," or "How I Rediscovered Humanity In This World" (pick one)

I couldn't decide on how to title today's screed, so I'm letting you decide for me.

In the last couple of days, I've learned just how fragile life is. And, today, some of my faith in humanity was restored in the process.

Last week, it was discovered that my dad had a large, walnut-sized tumor near the left temple. As of now, we don't know if it's benign or malignant, nor do we know where it came from (the doctor said it didn't originate in the brain, it came from somewhere else, possibly the lungs).

A health scare, I learned, can hit anyone at any time for any reason. My dad exercises daily, eats moderately, has never smoked nor drank alcohol. Some may say he's a total square. In spite of this, he has a lumpy mass growing in his head. I myself used to think walking to the TV to get the remote was exercise, and half a pizza covered the basic food groups, or pyramid, or obelisk, or Temple of Doom; whatever they call it these days. So, bottom line is that a man who respected his body has a serious medical issue, while I, who treated mine like a container from Waste Management, is so far only dealing with some extra weight. There's a disconnect there. Anyway, this obviously has me scared; but, ironically not to the point that I need to wash down the fear with a pint of Chunky Monkey and pilsner (I've done that). In fact, I now value more than ever the need to get healthy myself.

This leads me to my next point: that humanity lives on, and there still is compassion in this world. My mother has had health problems of her own, and is unable to drive. My dad's been grounded from driving until this all has been resolved. My brother is, well, my brother (in all fairness, he's bogged down with classes). So, I've had to step up to help take my dad to appointments, and ultimately his surgery on Thursday. Two details I left out are that I have a full-time job, and that I'm supposed to go away for an entire week next week to a conference related to work. I missed work all day yesterday, and half of today. The executive director pulled me into the office, along with my direct supervisor, and said:

"We put family first in this office. If you need, you may work here in the office next week on a part-time basis so you can be close to your family. If we were in your shoes, we wouldn't want to be a couple hundred miles from our family for a week either."

If anyone remembers the old Bugs Bunny cartoons where a character's jaw drops to the floor in shock and awe (usually either Daffy Duck or Wile E. Coyote), just picture me doing that. This conference is the premier event of the year for the association. For months, it was common knowledge that I would need to be there; but here is the boss' boss, telling me to put family first. I didn't know what to say. Professionalism aside, I wanted to kiss the man, but I opted for a firm handshake. Now, I can tend to the needs of my family without having to worry needlessly. Humanity lives again.

Well, It's Not Going To Be Easy...

First weigh-in since my last post was today. It came in at a whopping 304 pounds. Yikes. I suppose it didn't help that I went to a football game yesterday, where there was the overwhelming temptation of junk food galore. I fought it; I fought hard. But lost. One buffalo chicken sandwich later and I was in the fetal position, crying. Okay, I wasn't in the fetal position.

I need to put some perspective on my progress, though. Last June (2009), I weighed 350 pounds. So, I did make some progress. During the winter months, I joined a gym, and was going religiously. I was down to 285 at one point. I eventually wanted to get down to about 225, which is still above my ideal weight, but by no means unattainable.

Then, I lost my job.

When my lifestyle took a hit, I went right back to my old ways. Lack of funds prevented me from going to the places I usually went to get my exercise. Depression told me the gym could wait. I began eating again out of boredom. Talk about playing with my food; it became entertainment!

In the grand scheme, I suppose 20 pounds regained doesn't seem like much to a big dude. But, to me, it's a failure. A failure to exercise discipline and self-control. So, that being said, I just have to get back on the horse; a very big, strong horse with a high tolerance for pain. I have to show a larger scale of determination if I want to beat this thing.

In the next couple days, I'll start posting what I'm eating, and trying to eat, and what I'm doing to get off my butt to be active.

The Scot-Spot is Going in a New Direction

After many weeks of trying to figure out what to do with this blog, I finally came to a conclusion: I suck at blogging. That being said, I had to come up with something that someone would read. Thanks to a very old friend of mine who came up from his tropical paradise in Florida to the, err, not so tropical Keystone State, my muse finally clobbered me upside the head with a proverbial two-by-four.

All my life, I have struggled with esteem and weight issues. Although I was considered smart in school, I was a chronic underachiever who just wanted to "get by" with the minimum. I had a parent who was abusive and demanding, while he himself, as I found out later, was also an underachiever who constantly got into trouble at work and in other extracurricular activities. I guess after he got smacked around by his bosses, he came home to take it out on my mother and me. Pffft, whatever. The main issue is that wonderful childhood manifested into a mediocre adulthood. Ill-advised, I changed majors in college to one that I don't have a natural aptitude for. I had a couple iffy relationships before I married a nice-enough girl who unfortunately had too many demons of her own; needless to say that marriage failed. Yes, I've had struggle after struggle. And I'm sick of it.

That leads me to the point of this diatribe. What I'm going to blog about is the positive steps I am going to take to better myself, get out of this funk, and be the man I know I can be. One of the biggest topics I will be talking about is my weight loss; how I am a chunky monkey now, but will eventually be that sixpack stud that everyone sees in the Fireman-of-the-Month calendars. I will be periodically posting my fitness progress on this blog. I also want to talk about furthering my career; right now I'm employed but I am looking to find something more meaningful and fulfilling (it's not about the money). Granted, one can't be too careful talking openly about careers on a medium possibly seen by current and prospective employers. But I want to convey to you, dear reader, the sense that one should not fear making a change for the better if you don't like the direction you're going in now. The hardest part is taking the first step.

This is my first step.

Waffles

My son and I are having a debate about waffles. Are waffles inherently round, with squares? Or, can they be square also? I say a good waffle has to be square. That's what I've seen in restaurants, and that's how they turn out in my waffle maker. The round waffles are the ones you see in the grocer's freezer. Yuck! Blueberries and freezer burn, I say! But the best waffles have strawberry compote and whipped cream on top. I've even had them with ice cream and hot fudge. You can't stick that in a toaster!

It's the Waffle Song! Click Me!