CAFE DE'CAY

Looking at scary decorations today I was reminded of some of my son's epic Halloween creations. Darrin always loved the costumes & makeup part of Halloween. That was probably the artist in him emerging. Too old to Trick or Treat when he was about 13 or 14 he decided to dress up as Freddy Krueger from "Nightmare on Elm Street". He had an old hat that resembled the one Freddy wore that inspired him. Darrin loved being the one who dressed up to give out the candy.

Of course, Mom got in on it by perusing the thrift stores until I found a red & gray striped sweater that was perfect for Freddy. Darrin got to work on his makeup using smudged eyeliner all over his face to create the scars & added some fake blood to finish the look. He had a toy glove from Toys R Us that had the long razor fingers (plastic ones) Freddy was famous for to complete his outfit.

Darrin still wore eyeglasses & unfortunately he couldn't see well enough without them to enjoy his evening. He solved that problem by putting a beach chair on the porch surrounded by a plastic bucket & shovel, a tropical drink, an umbrella, even a bit of sand & wore his prescription sunglasses.

The following year was probably our best Halloween extravaganza! Darrin & I came up with the idea of Cafe De'Cay. We had a carport on the side of our house with a gate at the end that led to the backyard. Under the carport we set up a small table with a black tablecloth. In the two chairs we sat a skeleton & a grim reaper. A vase with black roses rested on the table. Spider webs adorned the entire gruesome scene. Rubber bats & plastic spiders dangled from the ceiling. A large poster board Cafe De'Cay sign in the front attracted our "customers".

But the real attraction was the tour of the Cafe De'Cay kitchen which we offered those brave enough to enter. In the dark backyard with some eerie lighting & music playing we set up a couple of folding tables covered in white sheets adorned with fake blood, fake fingers, plastic knives & cleavers along with other assorted bizarre, creepy items.

I made aprons for our chefs, Darrin, his best friend & his dad, from old white sheets. Another trip to the thrift store for long sleeve white shirts made a good background for our bottles of more fake blood. My creative juices were flowing as I had the great idea to make chef hats using a strip of white poster board wrapped around their heads & stapled (to itself, not their heads). Tissue paper bunched up on the top made the ballooned tops. They all looked pretty good if I do say so myself.

A day or two before Halloween we went to a few supermarkets & bought several kidneys, livers & a few hearts of something or other. It was pretty gross in our fridge for a couple days. Darrin & his friend made a disgusting soup of god only knows what. They spread out all the internal organs on dishes placed on the tables, drizzled blood all over & made a gag worthy concoction of meals.

The guys made up their faces to look really scary & manned the tables to gross out the kids willing to tour the kitchen. Donning my witch costume I stayed out front to give candy to the little kids & ask the older ones if they would like a complimentary tour of the backyard kitchen. I only let a few back at a time while the others listened to the screams from the yard.

One poor little girl wouldn't even come up to the carport so I walked out to the sidewalk with some candy for her. She tentatively asked, "Is Freddy back there?" I replied, "No, Freddy isn't here." She skeptically said, "He was here last year." Guess Darrin made quite an impression.

That was great fun back in the day. Lately it seems that we are reduced to handing out candy to teenagers carrying pillowcases who aren't really dressed as anything. It is fun interacting with the little kids but they seem to be fewer & fewer. Two years ago we ran out of candy pretty early so last year I bought a lot more. There were less kids than usual which meant we were munching on candy until Christmas.

I told Lou I think I'd prefer a year off from all the Trick or Treaters. So, maybe we'll go out to dinner & a movie or just hide in the back of the house with the lights off.

Happy Halloween! Enjoy!

AIRPORT SECURITY

Most of you know that as of July 17, 2018, I have a new, rather large piece of surgically implanted metal where my right hip used to be. I have flown to New Mexico twice since my artificial hip joint has been in place. In years past doctors used to give you a card stating that you had a metal joint & would set off the metal detectors. With today's technology they no longer issue those cards since anyone can print one up on their computer then theoretically hide a weapon where their hip should be. I haven't a clue how you would do that without looking like you had strapped a gun to your side.

Both times they directed me toward the x-ray/scanner machine. You know the drill, hands above your head, feet apart & don't breathe. Every single time the screen shows that my right knee has metal but nothing shows up on my right hip - which is metal. This makes no sense whatsoever. Then a woman TSA agent has to come feel my knee & tell me, "You're fine. Go ahead." If I happen to have on a top with some sparkles on it those show up, too. A quick swipe of my shoulder also has them telling me to go ahead.

This is nuts but I know the drill - how else are we going to keep the friendly skies safe? Okay, this past trip I had to change planes in San Diego. We arrived at Gate 3 & my next flight left from Gate 1. Score! It's a simple, quick, close by walk. Since I left in the early, early morning, I was starving when I arrived & found a couple of breakfast options. I chose the $17 eggs, bacon & potatoes. Airport prices are ridiculous!

With a full tummy, I saw that Gate 4 was to my left  & Gate 3 in front of me, so I headed right looking for Gate 1. There was a small sign with an arrow pointing down a hallway for Gates 1, 1A & 2. I asked a gate agent where Gate 1 was located & was told I needed to go out through security, walk past the ticket counters & go back through security to Gate 1. What the hell?

I had about half an hour before my flight boarded. As I approached the security line, I saw that it was fairly long. But I had "TSA Pre". If you travel you know that means you are expedited through security & don't have to remove your shoes, your jacket, your quart bag of liquids, your electronics & Lord know what else from your carry on bag. BUT there was no sign for the TSA Pre line. Knowing the answer, I asked anyway, "Do you have a TSA Pre line?" The agent replied, "No, but here is a card that will help." The bright pink card read, "You may keep your shoes on during the screening."

Finally reaching the x-ray machine, I was told that I had to remove all my electronics. my quart bag & anything else that might set off the metal detector.....BUT I could keep my shoes on! Not at all prepared I found my phone, my Kindle, my quart bag, my other Kindle & put them in a bin to be screened. Then I remembered to tell them I have an artificial hip. I was told to step over to the x-ray scanning machine. I waited & I waited for a female agent to appear.

Once again, the machine said my knee had metal, not my hip. Trying to keep an eye on my belongings off to the side I told the male agent, "I don't care if you feel my knee," to which he replied, "I can't by law. It has to be a woman." Finally the woman arrives, does her cursory feeling of my knee, which is fine, but she also says that my right foot shows metal. WTF??? I remove my right shoe & she feels my foot. She declares it is fine but my shoe has to go back through the metal detector.

At this point, the agent working the machine says, "Whose bag is this?" It was my carry on, of course. He opens it & finds my full reusable water bottle. Having already gone through security in Sacramento, I filled up my water bottle & forgot about it. He says, "You have to go back through security & empty it." I replied, "I only have one shoe since she is checking the other one. And my flight is boarding in like five minutes." I considered playing the hip replacement card & limping laboriously toward him but decided against it. My patience was wearing thin but I know better than to argue with them. I asked if he could just go empty it for me but he said I had to be with him.

By now, I'm trying to gather my electronics, my quart bag, my carry on bag, find my shoe & make sure I still have everything I started with. Suddenly I spotted my shoe on the conveyor belt, apparently it had passed inspection & wasn't equipped with God knows what to take down the plane. I turned & the agent had apparently taken pity on me & emptied my water bottle since he returned the empty bottle to me & said, "Have a nice flight."

I took a deep breath, put my shoe back on, took inventory of all my stuff & sat down. Two minutes later they started boarding my flight. I think I will avoid changing planes in San Diego from now on.

PUNCHLINES

Back in my old skydiver days, telling dirty jokes was a favorite past time over beer at the local pizza place. A good joke teller with some new material always elicited a laugh. Here are some of my favorites that I've continued to tell over the past 50 years or so. Most of them are better if you've had a few drinks so go grab yourself a glass of wine or a beer. Here we go!

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A guy walks into a bar & says to the bartender, "Hey, give me a bubble dourbon." "A what?" asks the bartender. "A bubble dourbon" replies the guy. "Oh, you mean a double bourbon", says the bartender. "That's what I said, a bubble dourbon," answers the guy.

Making small talk the bartender asks, "Where are you from?" "I'm from Collar Denverado," replies the man. "Where," queries the bartender. "Collar Denverado," repeats the man. "Oh, you mean Denver, Colorado," explains the bartender. "That's what I said, Collar Denverado," says the guy.

"What brings you here?" the bartender asks. "I'm here for the shurkey toot," the guy answers. "The what?" says the bartender. "The shurkey toot," says the guy again. "Oh, you're here for the turkey shoot," the bartender exclaims. "That's what I said, the shurkey toot," the man replied.

About this time there is shift change & a new bartender comes on duty. The off duty bartender walks down to the new bartender & says, "If you get a chance, go talk to that guy at the end of the bar. It will shickle the tit out of you!"

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Two guys are in court before the judge. One is beat all to hell with bandages, bruises & black eyes. The other doesn't have a scratch on him. The judge asks the beat up guy what happened & he replies, "I was just walking along minding my own business & this guy jumps out of the bushes & beats the shit out of me!"

The judge asks the guy without a scratch for his version of what happened. "Your honor, I was walking in the park & met this woman who asked if I was looking for some fun. I replied that I was & asked how much "fun" cost. She told me it was $2.50 an inch. I told her I'd take $7.50 worth of fun. So, we are in the bushes having some "fun" when this guy comes along, steps on my ass & pushes my bill up to $15.50!"

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A man, a genie & a one foot tall piano player walk into a bar. Seeing the odd trio, the bartender strikes up a conversation. The man says, "This genie grants wishes. I suppose I could let him grant you one wish. What will it be?"

The bartender thinks for a minute, then says, "I wish for a million bucks!" Suddenly, a million ducks are flying all over the room knocking things over & wreaking havoc. "What the hell?" the bartender asks. The man replies, "I forgot to mention the genie is a little hard of hearing. Do you really think I asked for a twelve inch pianist?"

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Telling these jokes, particularly the first one, requires just enough alcohol to be able to get into telling it but not too much too screw it up. Usually, I can still tell them with enough flair to get a laugh or two. Please feel free to share your favorite dirty jokes with me! I'd love to add a few more to my repertoire.

THE CATCH

If you lived in the Bay Area or were a football fan back in the 1980s, you most likely remember "The Catch". The San Francisco Forty-Niners were on the verge of playing in their first Super Bowl in 1982. Only the despised Dallas Cowboys stood in the way of that milestone. Dwight Clark, number 87, vaulted higher in the end zone than anyone (even him) thought possible as he caught the touchdown pass from quarterback, Joe Montana.

That leaping grab is permanently etched in the minds of Niner fans the world over. And it will forever be known simply as "The Catch". More thoughts on wide receiver Dwight Clark a bit later.

First, my father & I watched that game together. My son was only 5 years old so I'm guessing my mom took him somewhere fun leaving us diehard fans to watch that momentous game with no distractions. Years before my father had made up a ritual believing that his knit 49er hat had special powers that helped his cherished team win big games. We always laid our hats reverently beside us since we didn't want to waste their limited abilities unless it was absolutely necessary. Over the years we all purchased Niner ski caps to continue the tradition.

That Sunday, January 10, 1982, will live forever in 49er fanatics memories. Dwight Clark came down in the back of the end zone with the ball putting the Niners ahead! The defense held the Cowboys scoreless & our beloved team went on to win the first of five Super Bowl victories! We yelled, screamed, jumped up & down while wearing our enchanted hats. It was truly magical & sharing it with my father was a moment that I will always treasure.

We have been blessed in the Bay Area to have extremely successful professional sports teams - the Oakland Athletics, the Oakland Raiders (Boo, I hate them!), the San Francisco Giants & currently the Golden State Warriors. But I think if there was one iconic image of Bay Area sports, it would be Dwight Clark stretching toward the heavens to gracefully grasp that football known as "The Catch".

Dwight Clark was a regular guy. During his 49er career, we had the pleasure of attending autograph sessions featuring Dwight three times. He always smiled & graciously signed each autograph as he interacted with the fans. The final session was at a local Wendy's hamburger joint where he signed my copy of Sports Illustrated that showcased Dwight Clark on the cover just as his hands enveloped the football. It is probably my most prized possession.

About three years ago Dwight Clark was diagnosed with ALS, Lou Gehrig's Disease. That is a debilitating disease that took his ability to walk & otherwise ravished his body but it didn't dampen his spirit. On June 4, 2018, Dwight Clark died at his home in Montana at age 61.

There is a documentary titled "Letters to 87" now showing on our local sports networks. It includes letters from fans who reminisce about "The Catch" & comments from his teammates who all gathered at his bedside about a month prior to his death to share their memories & tell stories about this San Francisco legend. You can probably find it online, too, but be warned & have lots of tissues handy. It's a tearjerker.

Watching "Letters to 87" brought back so many football memories that I shared with my father but none was more memorable than that iconic moment in history forever known as "The Catch". Joe Montana said that Dwight was always fond of reminding him they don't call it "The Throw".

My recollections are bittersweet right now. Dwight Clark was my favorite Forty-Niner ever but he died way too young from a terrible disease. He was an unlikely star receiver on a championship team. He always had time for the fans & seemed genuinely happy to have enjoyed the success that he did.

My father died not quite 8 weeks after Dwight. Although my dad was almost 90 & we knew his health was far from great, there just doesn't seem to be a good time to lose your last parent. I remember mentioning Dwight Clark's passing to my dad & we briefly discussed "The Catch" one last time. Now, they are both gone but rest assured they will live on in my memories for the remainder of my life.

THANKS FOR THE MEMORIES

Humor was the way my dad coped with most things in life. Two ER visits ago, the doctor walked into the room & noticing my dad's half foot asked, "Why did you have your foot amputated?" My father replied, "For fun." I giggled & the nurse laughed out loud saying, "Mine is scheduled for next week." The doctor just semi-glared at all of us. That gives you an idea of my father's off beat sense of humor.

Over the years with all his health issues that I described in my last post, we always said if he ever stops eating & loses his sense of humor, we are in trouble. He would be in ICU throwing up blood & the nurse asked how he was doing. He always answered "I'm fine." Over, over & over, "I'm fine" no matter what was happening. My dad was never one to complain. We joked that we we're putting that on his tombstone, "I'm fine." But, alas, there will be no tombstone. His ashes will be scattered with my mother's in Sea Ranch according to his wishes.

My sister & I had numerous adventures with our dad - most I assume were to get us out of the house so my mother didn't kill us. Late afternoon bike rides were common. One day the three of us decided to play polo on our bikes taking some croquet mallets & a softball to the local school. About two minutes into the first chukker, I peddled furiously & swung my mallet which lodged in the spokes of the bike! My bike stopped instantly & I flew over the handlebars scraping the hell out of myself but no lasting damage was done. That ended our polo career.

Another day while hiking in the Hayward hills long before organized trails we were chased by a cow with a calf. I'm guessing I was about 9 or 10 & my sister 4 or 5. My dad scooped up my sister & yelled "Run!" We made it to the fence with the cow in hot pursuit. My dad dropped my sister on the other side & boosted me over before climbing it himself as the cow angrily approached. Just another funny story to laugh at years later.

As we all gathered at my dad's house last weekend my sister brought up another memory. Our dad was deathly afraid of snakes. He couldn't even look at one on TV without freaking out. One day as kids we were having a family picnic at a park in the hills. While my mother set up the meal, my dad, Karen & I went for a walk in the woods. Apparently, my dad saw a snake & took off running abandoning his kids! We followed suit running after him. My recollection is that my mom was none too pleased at his "save myself" actions.

My dad spent hours teaching me to throw, catch & hit a ball. I can't remember a time when I didn't know the rules of baseball. I still smile when I recall bundling up to attend a Giants night game in chilly Candlestick Park with my dad.  As adults he & I could flick between three channels with the TV remote watching football or basketball games. Our biggest connection was always sports. Several years ago, Lou took me to the Indy 500 auto race. That was the one sporting event my dad always wanted to attend & he was able to live vicariously through me.

I learned to drive on his four speed 1960 MG sports car. Cars were always my dad's pride & joy. At age 13 or 14 I recall sitting in the MG in the garage on weekend mornings practicing shifting. My dad was a great driving instructor patiently enduring the hours as I jerked & killed the car perfecting the ability to operate the clutch & gear shift. Darrin credits my dad with ultimately teaching him the fine art of shifting smoothly.

Along with kind & caring, the word that comes up over & over when people talk about my dad is "generous". My father was indeed a generous man always saying "put lunch on my card" or "take the money out of my account." He was also generous with his time & convictions. I don't ever remember my dad saying "no" to anything. As we spoke about what do with all his stuff, we decided to simply give it all away in his honor.

His 20 year old Pontiac Grand Prix went to the couple who cared for him full time a couple years ago & currently spent every other weekend with him. They were blown away by our father's generosity manifested through his daughters & grandson. His 42" flat screen TV went to his new caregiver. Darrin put his furniture on Facebook Marketplace for free & by the afternoon he had found a deserving woman who pulled up in a pickup truck & happily took it all assuring us it would have a good home.

We went through our pecking order - daughters, grandson, caregivers - as we divvied up most of his possessions. I loved when someone would say, "Is this table spoken for?" & I could answer, "It's yours." The little bit of money we gave up not selling things was more than made up for by the warm, wonderful feeling of continuing my father's legacy of generosity. Yes, we will miss him but our fond memories will carry on for our lifetimes.

A LIFE WELL LIVED

My father, Ronald Bray, passed away a week ago just a couple months shy of his 90th birthday. Everyone loved my father & no one had a bad word to say about him. He had a wonderful sense of humor, was an avid sports fan & a genuinely good person. He was a great fast pitch softball pitcher, a self taught golfer, a tennis player &, boy, did he love his cars!

His health had suffered in the past 20 years beginning with a brain stem stroke at age 69. Most people die from those but my dad recovered, drove again & accepted his limitations. Five years later he had back surgery & contracted MRSA. I remember the surgeon telling him, "Worst case we will stop your problem where it is." That wasn't the worst case at all, after the second surgery to combat the MRSA, he never walked without a walker again. But he never complained.

A few years later he was diagnosed with Normal Pressure Hydrocephalus necessitating brain surgery to insert a shunt into his brain that drained into his abdomen. Not long after that a cellulitis infection ultimately caused his left foot to be partially amputated. That was a three year ordeal that finally healed thanks to a wonderful podiatrist with faith. All this time my father accepted his limited abilities & the fact that he needed live in care. His brain still functioned well & he was pretty sharp until this past year. Even then he wasn't really bad just not himself anymore.

The final thing that got him somewhat down was needing a catheter all the time. He really didn't like that but it was a fact of his life. I was always amazed at what he went through & just kept plugging along. He was always willing to share a glass of wine with me & watch some sports. I called him the Energizer Bunny - he kept going & going. With similar limitations, I would have likely been throwing things & screaming but he never once seemed to let it get to him.

The interesting thing is that what ultimately got him was a massive heart attack. There was never a hint of heart disease until about a year ago & it was really minor. We had been to a cardiologist twice & both times he said it looks good, come back in six months.

Last Sunday afternoon his caregivers stepped out for 20 minutes (which was perfectly fine) & returned to find him on the floor not breathing. The caregiver & paramedics performed CPR & got him to the ER. Lou & I headed out immediately. When we arrived he was being kept alive with machines which we knew my father did not want at all. I was able to spend about 15 minutes holding his hand & talking to him. There was no indication that he knew I was there BUT I am choosing to believe on some level he knew. I then told the doctor to remove the tube & he breathed for another 10 minutes before leaving this world.

I was so grateful to be with him during his last minutes on earth. We visited him that morning & he seemed perfectly fine. It is comforting to know that he only suffered maybe a minute or two at most & then was unconscious. Yes, it was shocking that it happened so quickly but, honestly, what better way to leave this life?

He knew that I was okay after my hip replacement surgery. I had seen him three times in the ten days since surgery - I made a point of letting him see that I was making progress & starting to recover. I understood that I was HIS kid having surgery & I knew how I felt when MY kid was having surgery just a few months ago.

I can honestly say, I don't have a single regret - not one. I did everything I could for my father these past 15 years. I kept my promise to do everything in my power to keep him out of a nursing home. I was there for him up until the end. On the drive back home, literally only two hours after the initial phone call, I felt a real sense of relief & peace that he was no longer suffering. Of course, I have had my moments when something will trigger some tears through the smiles, but it is all good stuff. Sure, I miss him. Not a day goes by that I don't think, "Oh, I need to remember to tell my dad that."

In a few days I will share what my sister, my son & I came up with as bit of a tribute & maybe a sort of legacy to honor the type of man my father was in this world. He was a special man & I am honored to be his daughter.

MIND BODY CONNECTION

My total hip replacement surgery is just two days away now - Tuesday morning at 8:15 AM to be exact. It's a little freaky to accept that my doctor will cut into me, saw off parts of my bones & replace them with metal parts. While I work on calmly resigning myself to this fact, I am focusing on using guided imagery to keep myself relaxed in a positive place for surgery, minimize the pain & bleeding, promote healing & making a speedy recovery.

I have always believed that our minds have amazing control over our bodies & our health. Pretty much everyone believes we can make ourselves sick, so doesn't it stand to reason that our minds can also make ourselves better? There is such power in our brains & our subconscious but we don't know how to fully use it for our benefit. Back during the years I was going through menopause, I could bring on a hot flash in a matter of seconds just by thinking of it engulfing my body in searing heat. BUT, damned if I could figure out how to stop one in its tracks as soon as it started.

I believe that meditation & guided imagery is a fantastic tool to aid us in preparing ourselves for a positive experience as we face surgery. Fifteen years ago when my father was having his first back surgery, I did some research & purchased a CD titled "Preparing for Surgery - guided imagery exercises for relaxation & accelerated healing". The CD includes an introduction & three 22 - 25 minute guided imagery sessions - the first for before surgery, the next for the day of surgery & the last for healing after surgery. The CD is narrated by Dr. Martin Rossman who co-founded the Academy for Guided Imagery.

Way back when, my dad agreed to listen to the CD prior to his back surgery even though I'm sure he thought it was gobbly gook. Dr. Rossman puts suggestions into your mind that you don't have to believe will work or know how it works but your body can use to promote healing. He stresses that your body knows how to minimize bleeding during surgery. One of the first things my dad's surgeon told me when he came to talk to me after the procedure was that there was remarkably little bleeding. Whoa! I was a believer.

Over the years I have copied the CD & shared it with a few friends facing surgery. Being one who likes to put my money where my mouth is I pulled my trusty Guided Imagery CD out of the file cabinet & started listening to it several days ago. I bought a small CD player on ebay & will be listening to the day of surgery mediation as well as taking it with me to listen to the healing after surgery one in the hospital. The Joint Institute staff encourages us to bring music or meditations.

While I am not looking forward to this surgery by any means, I am definitely looking forward to two weeks from now when it will all be over & I should be well on my way to healing & being pain free. I know that it is time. It won't get better on its own. I am 100% confident that I am in the best place possible with the best surgeon doing the surgery. I am as prepared as I can be for a positive outcome. I have numerous friends & family members who are keeping me in their prayers, sending good wishes & generally supporting me. But I'm still scared. This is my first major surgery - ever!

I even filled out the Advance Directive form with my health care wishes just in case it all goes to hell.  And as my son pointed out over dinner last week, "That's good, but I think with a spinal block instead of general anesthetic & replacing your hip joint, it will be pretty hard to kill you. They would really have to work at it." True!

So, here we go!  I'll keep you all posted.