Ongoing Observations from the Lower Class
Ok, Mr. Smarty Geico lizard: Now what?!?!
So, today two important rites-of-passage were reached. The first is that I became officially old. I have attempted to stay relatively "young at heart," as they say. I don't always participate in all the latest cultural trends, but I try to stay abreast of them, and I haven't yet gotten to the point where I will go to the store dressed in whatever I have on because it's the most comfortable (i.e. bathrobe, house shoes, Family Guy lounge pants, etc.) I attend all of my son's band's "metalcore" shows, I can play WII Sports with my daughter(and win sometimes!), and I know how to pirate MP3s off the internet. I'd say for being in my '40s I'm still fairly hip (other than I would use the word "hip".)
But, it's the second of the two rites-of-passage which resulted in my sudden old-agedness.
My 16-year-old son received his driving permit today.
Yes, although he is required by state law to be accompanied by a licensed driver of at least 18 years of age seated next to him in the front seat at all times, my little boy - of whom I changed diapers, spoon fed, potty trained, taught to tie his shoes, help to ride a bike, went with on his first day of Kindergarten, played catch with in the yard, traded his lost teeth for Tooth Fairy money while he slept, and tied his necktie on his first school dance - is now legally allowed to crawl behind the wheel of a three-ton vehicle, capable of crushing entire families in an instant, and driving freely on the same public streets as I do; his only limitation that he be co-piloted by someone three years shy of beer-buying age.
I took him to the DMV today to take his written test (I guess the third time really
is a charm) and he confessed that he was one question away from failing it again, but luckily he guessed correctly on it. Then, after a couple other stops, he says, "Hand me the keys; I'm driving home!"
We were only three turns and two stoplight away from the house, so I proudly handed him the keys, made sure my daughter had her seatbelt fastened tightly in the backseat, and away we went. It wasn't the first he'd driven the car, but it was the first time in the city with other cars in motion on both sides. It took about three minutes to get home, and by the time he had backed into the driveway, I felt about three years older.
He had completed Driver's Ed class at school, but he explained that they never taught the kids to parallel park or drive using their mirrors. He said in all he was only behind the wheel about 4 hours in total.
After he got his permit, he told me all that.
It's going to be hard now trying to run out to grab something from the store without hearing, "Can I drive?"
Sure, it's your mom's car.
Labels: driving, son
What happened to the apple-a-day?
For those of you who are unaware of the fact, I have suffered from Multiple Sclerosis since 1995. Upon my diagnosis, I was fortunate enough to coincide with the indroduction of the first round of pharmaceuticals used to actually treat MS. Not to reverse anything, or relieve anything, but merely to slow the progression.
Seems like a good thing, right?
Well, it all depends on what you consider to be a "good" thing. See these meds, called Interferons, have a wonderful side effect of flu-like symptoms. For some people, they subside after a while. For others, one of which am so lucky to be, they continue for the duration of usage.
So not only to I have to self administer the injections thrice weekly, I get to have the flu after each dose. Basically, three days per week I have the flu. Three days per week I'm
recovering from the flu, and one day I get to feel relatively normal. Of course, my disease has progressed very slowly since I was diagnosed, but there's no guarantee that the medicine is resposible for that. So it's a constant battle inside my head; "Why put yourself through this year after year when it might all be pointless?" vs. "Are you willing to risk it by
not taking the shots?" Then I think about the unfortunate ones who were crippled overnight; or that are unable to sit in a chair unassisted and even type a blog. I think being able to walk far outweighs the discomfort of tri-weekly bouts of flu.
The crazy thing that makes interferons work is that it's basically a poison. It contains something that shouldn't be in your body, so the antibodies attack that foreign substance, as opposed to the myelin sheath that protects the nerves.
My medicine gets delivered in a cooler via USP, and one side of the box is always covered with the huge pharmacy information sticker. Recently I saw what has been hidden under that sticker.
Chinese hamster ovary cells?!? Really?!? Is it any wonder I feel like crap?!?
And the insurance pays almost $1500 per month for this. Seems like it would be cheaper just to eat a hamster every month.
Labels: MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Rebif
Maybe I'm NOT for everyone?
This afternoon Becca and I spent an hour at our
public library to scope out the monthly "Brown Bag Book Review." Last week I had donated a copy of MOAGJ for placement in the local authors' section, and before I could even think about it, agreed to a speaking engagement there at the library to talk about my book.
I promote my book as being for everyone, just because it covers lots of subjects; some of which allow for only "black or white" opinions. I designed it so everyone would be forced to agree with something, but no one could possibly agree with everything. Most of it, of course, doesn't require a stance or opinion; it just is what it is.
A couple of the topics which
are potent(abortion, religion, politics, racism, etc.) however, might not even be proper discussion in
any forum for
any reason, which I never considered until I attended today's gathering.
As of today 2/20/11, I am 42 years old. Becca is 38. Adding our ages together, one might be able to calculate the average age of those in attendance. And although most of the estrogen in the room had turned to dust decades ago, I was the only source of testosterone present. There were a couple ladies that didn't seem to be AARP members, but most of them had probably, in their youths, been the proud occupants of a horse-drawn wagon . They also all seemed to know each other, as if this is something they attend each month, regardless of who the guest speaker is.
According to the librarian in charge, I am slated to be the guest speaker in March. How am I supposed to stand in front of the geriatric peanut gallery and talk about my book? "Hello, ladies. I thought we'd steer clear of any controversial topics entailed in my book, so who's up for talking about
poop?!"
At least there's one more Brown Bag Book Review before I'm up, so maybe there will be a more diverse group there, or at least I might come up with some ideas for when I have to be in front of them. Just glad I left the "when I was your age" essay out of this book. They would definitely have destroyed me in that respect!
Labels: library, Princeton, West Virginia
The new year begins...late.
Ok, so the holidays took a
lot more time and effort than I had anticipated, and subsequently the whole blogging thing didn't take off as planned.
Oh, who am I kidding? I forgot how to get back into it to post anything. Since I published the book, I've been working on so many websites with so many programs that I overwhelmed myself and just plain forgot how to do it. Time management has never been one of my strong suits. Apparently I lost the ability to make notes for myself, or even bookmark websites for that matter.
At any rate, I've found my way back in, and left myself detailed instructions for how to return.
The Christmas decorations are finally put away, so now I'm planning on spending a lot more time here. I will most likely be using this forum as a journal of sorts; commenting on current events and updating everyone on the progress of the next book, tentatively titled, "Memoirs of a Generic Joe: I Can See Middle Class From My House." Yes, it is a play on Sarah Palin's famous soundbite referring to her ability to see Russia from
her house. I feel I'm entitled to do so simply because she screwed with the original title to my first book, which was "Memoirs of Joe 6-Pack: Observations From The Lower Class." After the 2007 Presidential race, she threw the name Joe 6-Pack around so much that I was afraid to apply it to my book for fear that people would, A) think I stole it from her (not that she or I created it, but still...) or B) think I was using it as a way of showing support for her. Neither of which are true. Of course, I could have probably capitalized on the fact that the latter would have generated some sales, but at what cost? My principles? My integrity? My soul?
In hindsight, I probably should have, if only to boost sales. Self-publishing is no picnic.
Still, I wanted to stay with the same basic feel, and I remembered that back in high school my friends and I used to refer to people we considered boring and plain as being "generic." Now that I am one, it seemed the perfect choice. Ergo, "
Memoirs of a Generic Joe: Observations From The Lower Class" became a reality.
Read more »Labels: Amazon, Bo Deans, Christmas, New Year