So, While I was Sleeping....(Or, They Killed The Clot Before It Killed Me.)

You know, I just don't find updating this blog as interesting as I used to. I can be found at http://www.tinytunesdjs.blogspot.com/ with some tips for weddings and parties, for my business, Tiny Tunes Mobile Music. Not getting up at 4am has messed with my muse, I think. I still have thoughts, and opinions, but I just don't feel like commiting them to bits and bytes....

Either that, or it's the medications I'm on. Let me recap, for those without a scorecard....

Mid November, I spent a weekend with what I thought was bad gas. After not being able to sleep on Saturday, and sleeping away the morning on a Sunday, I decided to go to RediMed. They checked my blood and my urine (and noted that the two fluids were intermingling) and sent me across the street to Lutheran Hospital, where they promptly admitted me. Turns out that the gas pains I had been experiencing....was actually appendicitis. My appendix was ready to burst. But that wasn't the only news......

My blood sugar was at 507. To give you some indication of what exactly that means, keep in mind that the NORMAL range is 80-120, and anything above 350 should send you to the doctor immediately, and could cause you to slip into a coma.

Nine days (and tens of thousands of dollars) later, I left the hospital, a confirmed diabetic, with all the corresponding medications coursing through my bloodstream.....AND with my appendix intact. My sugar levels were so high, they didn't want to operate....and by the time they got the diabetes under control, my appendix attack had subsided. Dodged the bullet (well, actually, the scalpel) on that one.

Fast forward to the first weekend in February. Had some pain in my left leg. Felt like a charley horse. Now although I've been watching what I eat, and when I eat it (as per the diabetic regimen) anyone that knows me will tell you I have a tendency to push myself too hard sometimes. Besides, the charley horse came and went. No reason to be concerned, or to disappoint people that I had made commitments to, right? So I downed some Gatorade (potassium, and electrolytes--good for a charley horse, right?) went to the Northrop Show Choir invitational, and MCed all day. THEN I went to the Down the Line show at the Embassy. THEN on Sunday, I made an appearance at the FW Boat Show and Sale. THEN, with the leg still hurting, I decided, once again to visit my friends at RediMed. (Note to self: don't GO to RediMed on Sunday.) Once again, they sent me across the street, this time to access imaging equipment that they didn't have.

The upshoot of that trip? A blood clot from below my left knee to my groin. Could have killed me...not to get all dramatic, but that's what they told me. They caught it, and stuck a wire in my leg to break up the clot....them put me on heparin....ten days later, I left the hospital (tens of thousands of dollars later again) with a screen inplanted in the vein in my leg, and MORE medications to take on an ongoing basis. Can't drink....can't eat most greens....so there's some good, and some bad. (smiles)

So here I am, still limping slightly when the leg gets tired (after being immobile, it got a little weak) and plotting the future. Coumadin is my friend. I feel lucky to be alive, when I have friends that haven't been so lucky with both the diabetes, and blood clots. It's given me a slightly different outlook on life, and what you should do with it.

To all my friends, thank you for the support, and well wishes. If you are my friend, and are just learning of my recent journey, know that I didn't slight you--it was a combination of Vicodin, and morphine, and those late night pokings and proddings, that prevented me from contacting you. But I appreciate all of you.

I hope to see you on the radio soon!

--TINY

IT LIVES!!!!!!!

Got blown out of my full-time job at work, so I now have some time to blog again. Still working part time, and doing lots of remotes with my friend Shelly Barter. Looking for another full time position, but in the meantime, going out and doing these remotes is a good way to make a buck, and pass the time.

What do we talk about at a remote broadcast? Well, at our most recent outing, at All Star Sports Bar (the back room at Pieres) the following topics came up (some prompted by one of the patrons, some just randomly thrown out there)--

Drawerless whores (I swear you could see her tonsils in that short, short skirt)
Spunk on the windshield and in the hair (think There's Something About Mary)
The shaving of the beaver (votes pro and con are welcome in comments here)
Why there aren't any Cowboys fans around here (well, except for the obvious fact that the team sucks, and Jerry Jones is a total egomaniac)

Join us at a future event, and join in on the dialogue, won't you?

Buy The Soundtrack. (Or, I Know What Christmas Is All About, Charlie Brown.)

Luke 2:8-14 (King James Version)
8And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
9And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.
10And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.
11For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.
12And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
13And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,
14Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

Charlie Brown was right....Christmas is becoming too commercial. Am I right? I said, am I right?

Hug a friend or loved one today, and take time to reflect on the good things in life, and how much we have been given.

Merry Christmas (or the holiday greeting of your choosing.)

The Snow Turned Into Rain. (Or, RIP Dan Fogelberg.)

From DanFogelberg.com.

Dear friends,Dan left us this morning at 6:00am . He fought a brave battle with cancer and died peacefully at home in Maine with his wife Jean at his side. His strength, dignity, and grace in the face of the daunting challenges of this disease were an inspiration to all who knew him.

Dan Fogelberg was diagnosed in 2004 with prostate cancer. I remember hearing about his decision to stop recording and touring after being diagnosed, and then thought nothing more about it, frankly, until I read this today.

Guys, go get checked. I'm going to.

Some might paint Dan Fogelberg's music as lightweight pop. I prefer to think it's folk-infused classic country rock. Whatever the label you happen to put on it, there is no denying the talent of the man to create timeless music. One of the few things my ex-wife and I can agree on. When I hear Dan's music, I'm taken in my mind to the Pearl Street Mall in Boulder Colorado... with a light dusting of snow under clear Colorado skies. Dan's music consistently had the ability to paint a picture, and put you in it, like few artists can. I recommend the Greatest Hits two-disc package for a good retrospective of his music.

The holidays without the reflection of 'Another Auld Lang Syne'? Sad indeed. Rest in peace, Dan.

News From East Tennessee. (Or, Could This Be Fred Thompson? )

A young farmboy from Tennesee goes off to college, but half way through
the semester, he has foolishly squandered all his money.

He calls home. "Dad," he says, "You won't believe what modern education
is developing! They actually have a program here in Knoxville that will
teach our dog, Ol' Blue how to talk!"

"That's amazing," his Dad says. "How do I get Ol' Blue in that program?"

"Just send him down here with $1,000" the young cowboy says. "I'll get
him in the course." So, his father sends the dog and $1,000.

About two-thirds through the semester, the money again runs out. The boy
calls home. "So how's Ol' Blue doing, son," his father asks. "Awesome,
Dad, he's talking up a storm," he says, "but you just won't believe this
- they've had such good results they have started to teach the animals
how to read!"

"Read!" says his father, "No kidding! How do we get Blue in that
program?" "Just send $2,500, I'll get him in the class."
The money promptly arrives. But our hero has a problem. At the end of
the year, his father will find out the dog can neither talk, nor read.
So he shoots the dog.

When he arrives home at the end of the year, his father is all excited.
"Where's Ol' Blue? I just can't wait to see him read something and talk!"

"Dad," the boy says, "I have some grim news. Yesterday morning, just
before we left to drive home, Ol' Blue was in the living room, kicked
back in the recliner, reading the Wall Street Journal, like he usually
does. Then he turned to me and asked, 'So, is your daddy still messing'
around with that little redhead who lives in town?' "

The father exclaimed, "I hope you shot that dog before he talks to your
Mother!" "I sure did, Dad!" "That's my boy!"

The kid went on to be a successful lawyer...eventually giving up his
practice and going into politics.

RIP HK. (And CBGB & OMFUG, Too.)

From The New York Times.

“Hilly Kristal, who founded CBGB, the Bowery bar that became the cradle of punk and art-rock in New York in the 1970s and served as the inspiration for musician-friendly rock dives throughout the world, died in Manhattan on Tuesday. He was 75. His son, Mark Dana Kristal, told The Associated Press that the cause was complications from lung cancer. ... Besides his son, Mr. Kristal is survived by a daughter, Lisa Kristal Burgman, and two grandchildren.”

A man who set out to do something (create a country and bluegrass bar in New York).....got sidetracked along the way....and instead helped create the legendary punk rock bar, and inspire and promote a host of legendary bands. I like to think of the rugby bar (at least in its earlier, dirtier incarnation) as a midwestern stepchild of CBGBs.

Rest in peace, Hilly.

As Long As You've Got Their Attention. (Or, I Like To Probe Deep Into What Love Is.)

Too busy to write much....plus, the muse has left me, too. Maybe once things slow down....

In the meantime, contemplate love from behind.