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| 10 points to your house if you get the reference... |
I feel the need to greet you formally as a means of kicking off this particular blog post seeing as how it's been more than a month since my prose graced your eyes, and quite frankly I'm a bit bummed out about that. I felt like I was getting on something of a roll with my entries to this blog and I felt rather upset about not having had the free time to keep that momentum going. (At least I'm doing better than I was when I was attempting to run a full site of my own - I paid for hosting for almost a year and a half on a site that I didn't touch for lack of time to do anything with it.) This may seem like a trivial thing to certain people, putting your innermost thoughts out into the ether for God only knows who to read them, but I rather enjoy the experience as I've grown to be fairly fond of writing. I don't need to be sitting on a psychiatrist's couch to vocalize my feelings, I just need an open network protocol with access to this here Internet thingie.
To say that the last few weeks have been tumultuous at times would be a vast understatement. Some of it was the good kind of tumult, which is when you're busy and wrapped up in things that bring you joy or that you otherwise appreciate the opportunity to be involved with. Of course in life we can't have the good without our fair share of the negative - there was plenty of sadness to be had in the time between now and when I last wrote as well.
Back in the middle of June, my wife (Jill/Wifey/J-Tru, if you don't know her - you should really read her blog, too, if you don't already) and I made our annual trip to Pirate Land Campground in Myrtle Beach, SC for a week-long vacation. This is a tradition which we've picked up from her family as they make something of a yearly pilgrimage to this same campground and have done so for the better part of Jill's lifetime. When I say "her family", it helps if I can give you a gauge of just how many people we're talking about because it's significantly more than what you're probably thinking. The caravan of campers that migrates from Lugoff, SC to Myrtle Beach is between 7 and 10 units strong; I have to leave myself some leeway with the estimation by saying it's between X and Y because I know I'd be wrong if I tried to assign a specific value (yes, that's my way of admitting that I have no idea who some of her family members are - the extended ones, mostly - even though we've been together for almost three years now). Figure in that there will be anywhere from 2 to 6 people staying in each of those campers and you start to get an idea of how many people are included in this trek. It's an impressive assembly and it makes for a great event seeing as how it seems that so few people do something like this these days.
I'll never forget the first time I joined Jill's family on this trip because it was my first legitimate camping experience. No, I've never slept in a tent and I never intend to do so. Yes, this was a "camping experience" in that we stayed in Jill's parents camper. While that might not count as roughing it for some people, I will counter your snide remarks contradicting my seasoned camper status by letting you know that I did sleep on the floor of the camper for the duration of that first trip. I was on an air mattress with a pillow and positioned directly under an air conditioning vent, mind you, but still on the floor!
Since that trip, Jill and I have moved on from staying with her parents to renting a camper that's on one of the permanent sites within Pirate Land. The campers on these sites have been modified so that they don't resemble campers in many cases. They feature Florida rooms, improved bathroom facilities, custom kitchens, and a range of other amenities.
The camper we rent is in an absolutely picturesque area as it is nestled in between several trees and situated immediately beside an inlet. Not surprisingly, the trees are home to quite a few squirrels and these squirrels have become a welcome, albeit noisy addition to memories of our beach vacations. They will often drop their acorns onto the metal roof of the camper then drop down and trot across in an attempt to reclaim their lost vittles. The first time we heard them do this we had literally no idea what was going on and it startled us (we lovingly refer to them as terrorists). I would never claim to know much about fishing (seeing as how I do it so infrequently that I have to ask Jill to give me a refresher on the operation of the reel; she grew up with a master fisherman in the form of my father in-law, who is a talented angler and sportsman), although the inlet has allowed me to do something I hadn't done since I was a boy fishing on the banks of a pond back home with my Grandpa. We have yet to catch a fish (we know they're there seeing as how they routinely jump out of the water as if to taunt us with their refusal to take the bait) but that doesn't make the experience any less enjoyable.
Jill's family has many traditions that they engage in while at the beach, my favorite of which involves everyone getting together for breakfast each morning (I know, it's shocking that I would enjoy an event centered around bacon above so many others). The most prominent traditions that Wifey & I have developed on our own for our beach vacations are: 1) a trip to Medieval Times Dinner & Tournament and 2) the Annual Truesdale Myrtle Beach Putt-Putt Challenge Championship.
Jill and I are both fans of professional wrestling and Medieval Times isn't too far removed from wrestling, but at Medieval Times you get served a fantastic meal while the action is unfolding before you, making it instantly better than most wrestling cards. Vegetable soup, garlic bread, an oven-roasted half chicken, ribs, baked potato, and desert - it's a meal fit for a king, which is appropriate seeing as how it's customary for everyone to wear paper crowns while you're there. If you've never been to MT, I highly recommend it. It's not exactly a cheap date, however it is a lot of fun and a unique experience.
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| Wifey & I at Medieval Times - BLUE KNIGHT, FTW! |
The Annual Truesdale Myrtle Beach Putt-Putt Challenge Championship (or ATMBPPCC for short) is an event that evolved from Wifey and myself placing wagers on our putt-putt matches. (Not wagers in a monetary sense, rather things like doing the dishes for a week.) During our first vacation to Pirate Land, Jill may or may not have conned me into a bet by having us play on the course located within the campground. Keep in mind that Jill and her family have been coming to Pirate Land for upwards of 10 years - point being, she had an advantage over me in that she knew the course whereas I was flying blind. She bested me that day, but rest assured I haven't forgotten her clever maneuver...
Since that first match we've taken to playing at random courses so as to even the playing field. In addition, we've changed the format from a one match scenario to a best 2-out-of-3 contest. For the 2010 edition of the ATMBPPCC, we played at Cancun Lagoon and Jurassic Golf with yours beardly pulling out a pair of close victories to take home the title. This year, I decided it was time to build the legacy of the ATMBPPCC by making it more than just a made up championship with an absurdly long acronym by creating a trophy to represent it.
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| The ATMBPPCC trophy - Lord Stanley's cup is officially weaksauce! |
The fine folks over at A-1 Custom Trophies assembled that beauty for us. Their handy online utility for designing a trophy of your own is an excellent tool as you'll be able to see your trophy before it's constructed.
Round one of the 2011 ATMBPPCC was held at Jungle Safari Golf. It was appropriate that we selected a course with an Amazonian-theme seeing as how the weather in Myrtle Beach was what you'd expect to encounter in the jungles of some far-off land, that being humid, hot, and generally unpleasant. (Adding to these environmental hazards was the fact that we were down-wind of smoke coming off of a large wildfire north of Myrtle Beach that was drifting south along the coast.) Indeed, the air was so thick with moisture and heat that I would describe the experience as walking around in a bucket of hot water. (To quote Matthew Broderick's character from the 1988 film Biloxi Blues, "Man it's hot. It's like Africa hot. Tarzan couldn't take this kind of hot.") Our matches always seem to be close and this one was no different. I prevailed and by the narrowest of margins, a single stroke, despite being drenched with sweat and feeling like the inside of a used gym sock.
To her credit, I believe Wifey may have been a bit put off her game by the fact that about mid-way through the match a young lady driving by gave me a cat call - yes, a quite scandalous turn of events it was, but far be it from me to deny a strategic advantage of any sort. Nevertheless, we moved on to round two which was played at Captain Hook's Adventure Golf.
Putt-putt is, as you would expect, a very popular past time around Myrtle Beach as it is an activity anyone, families on vacation in particular, can do and enjoy (this despite the expense involved - I'd like someone to explain to me why it costs $20 for 2 people to play one round of mini-golf; for that price I should get a commemorative mug or something equally useless that would at least let me feel like I received something of value for my money). As it would turn out, the evening we played at Captain Hook's was a busy one as our match took more than 2 hours to complete. Jill and I were both feeling the effects of the prolonged match as we were growing frustrated not only with those players ahead of us but with the course itself. Captain Hook's is not a cakewalk by any means; I can appreciate a course with a decent amount of difficulty, but certain of the holes there seemed to have been designed to cause grief more than anything.
Yet again, our scores were close throughout most of the match. The sixteenth hole would prove to be Wifey's ultimate undoing in this, the second round of the 2011 ATMBPPCC, as its cup was set upon a plateau that featured several treacherous contours. She was forced to take the maximum stroke count for the hole, giving me a clear advantage going into the final two stages. I was able to hold off her attempt at a rally despite having not been able to finish the game as my ball went careening off the course during the eighteenth hole, nowhere to be found. With that, I won my second straight ATMBPPCC title and I look forward to defending this prestigious championship again next year!
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| Yours Beardly with the ATMBPPCC trophy |
Our beach trip was not without a bit of drama. Jill's Grandmother became ill and was forced to spend a majority of the week in an area hospital. She gave us all a scare and it was rough goings for a few days but the silver lining of the situation was that she had plenty of family around to assist her and stay with her. She's since made a full recovery from those ailments and is back in the comfort of her home with her husband.
The weeks after our beach vacation were mostly normal. Jill and I went back to work, returning to our everyday grind, wishing all the while we could be back on vacation. Not long after getting back home I received a jury duty summons for municipal court. Some people might cringe at an assignment like that but I was genuinely looking forward to it. I'd served as a juror years ago and found the legal process fascinating with all its posturing and technicalities. It appealed to my meticulous nature, I guess you could say. This more recent experience would prove to be far less rewarding.
I reported for jury duty as instructed (Commanded?) and went through the usual attendance-taking procedure. (I was shocked at how many people didn't appear; there were probably 70 names called with barely over half being present.) When it came time to hear the first case it turned out that the prosecutor was forced to ask for a continuance because an officer who was to testify before the court didn't show up. The defense rejected the offer for a continuance and the judge agreed that all parties had had plenty of advance knowledge of the trial to have made it to the proceedings on time. With that the juror pool was dismissed until after lunch. When we all returned, the second case of the day appeared to be lined up and ready for launch - or so it was until the defense attorney mentioned to the judge that he had "a matter" which he needed to address with him regarding the case, and he recommended that the jury pool be dismissed while they discussed the "matter". The judge called both attorneys into his chambers where they would stay for nearly 90 minutes. An hour and a half isn't a brief intermission when you're sitting in what amounts to a church pew with no padding on it whatsoever, which is why I got up and walked around for a while until the counselors and judge returned. We (the jurors) were told that because of the "matter" the case would not be heard. Myself and the rest of the juror pool were dismissed for the remainder of the week. We never found out what the "matter" was, much to my chagrin (I would've liked to have found out if for no other reason than to satisfy my own curiosity). Late last week I received my payment for having been a willing juror - a whole $6. I haven't cashed the check yet, mainly because I don't quite feel like I did anything deserving of being paid, but I may do so sometime this week so I can go buy myself a Snickers and a Pepsi.
Two weeks after our vacation, Jill & I received word that my Grandmother had been taken to Springs Memorial Hospital in Lancaster, SC with elevated blood pressure and blood sugar levels. She'd had episodes similar to this in the past and had been able to shake them off after a few days of treatment, so I didn't think it was much more than the same. This was far worse, it would turn out.
My childhood was different than most in that my Mom (who had gotten a divorce from my "sperm donor" as I've grown to call him over the years) and I lived with my Grandparents. My Grandfather passed away in 1993, and after that it was just the three of us. Mom was an elementary school teacher (a damn good one, too) and for the bulk of my formative years I spent time at home with my Grandma while Mom was working. We'd go shopping, out to eat, to the movies - I basically became her traveling buddy and I loved it. (My Grandma loved to travel, especially throughout the old West, as proven by the fact that she'd taken numerous bus tours across the United States.) That said, it's easy to see why I've felt as if I had two moms for my entire life.
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| My Grandma & I on vacation, somewhere near the mountains of North Carolina or Tennessee |
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| My Grandma, myself, and my Mom on one of our many trips to Florida |
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| My Grandma and I with George W. Bush before he was President |
Jill and I drove to Lancaster the Sunday after Grandma was taken to the hospital. We'd learned that she might have possibly had a stroke as she had stopped moving the left side of her body but the main concern was that she had developed a blood infection. I can't describe how difficult it was seeing her when we arrived at the hospital. I don't think any members of our family were prepared for her health to have taken such an immediate turn for the worse. She seemed to have been fine in the days prior and yet here she was suddenly struggling to breathe, to live.
My Grandma passed away two days later, Tuesday, July 12. She was such a vivacious, strong woman who lived her life to the fullest, and I miss her very much.
Grandma died exactly one month to the day after Sara Edwards, a dear friend of hers, had passed. She missed her friend, and she missed her husband. I hope they're all together again now in a much better place than here.
Jill and I have added a new member to our family, a furry, four-legged son as we've begun to refer to him. Roddy "Hot Rod" Truesdale, a miniature dachshund who is of the black & tan variety but who also has a very unique set of dapple markings. We adopted him from Johnnie & Allan Judy who operate Rosegarden Dachshunds out of Lugoff, SC. He was born May 17, 2011 and as of this writing he's about 10 weeks old. So far he's proving to be quite the smartie as he's already picked up on some basic lessons and is learning to play fetch with a set of mini-tennis balls. Needless to say, we're looking forward to spoiling him and making him feel loved.
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| Jill & I on the day we picked up Roddy |
If you've managed to read this entire blog entry I commend you because I'm not sure that even I would want to read something of this length unless I was coerced into doing so. I feel like I should be posting a coupon for a free order of Crazy Bread from Little Caesar's or something similar as a reward. (Not that I have that kind of authority, just that it would seem appropriate.) This is what happens when I let too much material accumulate, I churn out a blog that's the length of Yao Ming's legs. I'll try to do better with being more concise in the future. Maybe. If I feel like it, that is. Which is doubtful, honestly.
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