Hell of a Guy
Don't stay in bed, unless you can make money in bed. - George Burns

Saturday, April 08, 2017

A Trip Home…


The Nancy and I are on our way home from a trip to Orlando and her annual conference. This whole thing began on the 31st of March with me dropping Her Majesty off at Baltimore/Washington International so she could catch her flight to Orlando. Having dropped her off, I began the 800-mile drive with all of her conference materials.

My part of the excursion did not begin well as I began driving south on I-95. It was raining cats and dogs and the cats were winning. Traffic in many spots along the way was at a complete standstill allowing me to make it just about 60 miles in the two hours. My original plan had me, after dropping off my wife at 9:30, in Richmond, VA and a lunch date with my two girls. I did not get to Richmond until after 2pm, a trip of 141 miles. With lunch apologetically canceled, I drove on in the pouring rain, hoping to make it to Manning, SC on the first day. About the time I crossed the Virginia border into North Carolina, a miracle occurred, the rain ceased, the skies cleared and the sun appeared. I made it to Manning, SC about 6:30 tired and hungry. It was a long day fighting traffic and exercising my four-letter word vocabulary, but all-in-all not a bad one.

The rest of week went very well, and now we are on our way home, the Nancy in tow with the remainder of her “conference stuff.” We left Orlando Thursday morning, headed north on I-95 and spent the night in Florence, SC and resumed the journey Friday morning.

Now to the meat of this little piece. Driving up 95 on Friday and a little after noon as hunger bugged us, we decided to stop for a bite. We remembered a small café we had enjoyed when passing through Rocky Mount, NC a couple of years ago, so we headed for the Westridge Grill. Now this is not a fine dining establishment, but is provides good, down home grub at reasonable prices and, best of all, some very friendly people.

As I said, we were here a couple of years ago. The owner happened to be behind the bar where we sat. We told him we had visited in the past and kind of fell in love with two of his employees, Miss Jay and David, and couldn’t be in range of the place and stopping for a meal. After telling him this, Nancy noticed one of my “Hell-of-a-Guy” cards tapped to a mirror behind the bar. I had left one there the first time she and I visited. I guess we made a favorable impression while there that time. In any event, that was a first. I always thought of passing out those cards as kind of a joke, never expecting anyone to hold on to them.  It made me feel good, like a celebrity of some sort. Now I can make the rest of the trip with a smile on my face.

And that is all I have to say about that…

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Hell-of-a-guy Lives on…


It has been a while since I posted anything to http://www.hell-of-a-guy.com The o.nly reason for my absence is merely and mostly because I am lazy, not to mention I just don’t think about it all that often, and generally when I do I am in the car or somewhere else other than nearby my laptop. Believe me, I have composed some beautiful stories in my head. Unfortunately, due to the cerebral atrophy associated with aging, the thoughts don’t hang around in my brain very long.

There was a time when the program my son-in-law runs my website through had apparatus to count the number of hits on this site. That software developed some serious issues (listen to me speaking as if I know what happened) not allowing me to post anything and new software he found to run the program does not have a counter. I have been on this new system for several years, but the last count I saw a few years ago was well in excess of 500,000 hits. Knowing there were people accessing the site made me feel good and also motivated me to write. Some of what I wrote was really good, others not so much, but it was fun.

Recently The Nancy and I were visiting her dad and celebrating his 88th birthday with family. One of the grandsons told me he and his girlfriend had visited Hell-of-Guy and read some of the posts. That made me feel good, but also a tad ashamed I have neglected it, hence, this post. So…as it goes…I promise to write some more “stuff” and post it.  Until that time, enjoy some of the older shit I wrote.

And that is all I have to say about that…

Thursday, January 05, 2017

Birthdays Suck, Unless You Don’t Have One…


As I have one of those nasty birthdays ascending on me as a rapid pace, I cannot sit here and say I am very excited at the prospect of it. It will by my 73rd of what at juncture is a downhill slide, and I am okay with that as long as the downhill grade is not at an acute angle.

I remember a time when I was still a working stiff, in my sweet company car driving to an appointment as I listened to a man and woman talking on the radio, I think they were out west somewhere. They were talking about various news stories, one in particular caught my ear. The guy was reporting on a story about a California woman who was about to become the oldest known woman on the planet at age 116. The woman began to giggle and quipped, “Who in the world would ever want to be 116?” Well, it took me about a second to scream at the radio, as anyone with half a brain might have done at that moment, “Someone who is 115.”

Think about this for a second; how many people in their right minds really wish to die? I would suspect those whom fall in this category are a mere fraction of 1%, probably pretty close to zero.

As a rational person, at least I think I am, I truly do not mind getting older, though it does give me something to think about. It is not the getting old that bothers me as much as the loss of function. I do not hear or see as well as I once did. My bowel habits are fluctuating, my prostate gland isn’t working as it once did or is supposed to work. My knees are weak – when I get down, I plop down the last few inches and when I attempt to rise I need something to assist me, something to grab onto. My back aches 99% of the time. And then there is the funniest scene ever, me trying to put on socks (I remind me of my dad).

But in the end, well, not really the end but close, all is good. I have no complaints. In my case I view it as the Universe unfolding exactly as it should. I am in this for the long haul.

And that is all I have to say about that… 

Saturday, October 01, 2016

A Pain In My Back Is A Pain In The Ass…


A saga.

This saga began on September 15th with a visit to the National Spine and Pain Center in Hagerstown, MD, my second visit to this office to see if something can be done about my constant back pain.

Result…not much. I was told they could “burn a nerve” to reduce the pain sensation, but that is just a masking of it not relief of it. They recommended I see a neurosurgeon, which is what I wanted to do in the first place. Since I already have a doctor in mind, a referral was to be sent that day.

Nancy left that Sunday for a meeting in Orlando, and I was to fly out on Friday and meet her in Phoenix for the Association of School Business Officials, International’s annual conference. On Monday I checked with the surgeon’s office on the referral, and was told none was received and that they used a specific form for referrals. Now know I had on two occasions visited this highly recommended and capable doctor’s office, asked about getting an appointment, told I needed a referral but not told of a special form. I gave them the Spine Center’s number and asked the form be faxed to it. Checked with the Spine Center the next day and told no form was received. Called the surgeon’s office and asked again to fax the form (they told me they could not email it). The young lady I spoke to told me she was doing it while I was on the phone.

Friday on my way to the airport I stopped by the Spine Center, again I was told no form was received. I thought perhaps one was sent but my name was not on it, so nothing was done because they did not know what who it was for. The Spine Center then, after calling the surgeon’s office and getting a different fax number faxed their original referral form to the surgeon. The following week after we got back home from Phoenix, Nancy’s dad was to have a colonoscopy and an endoscopy, so I put this issue aside, took Nancy to Joe’s on Wednesday and Thursday got back into my problem.

First thing on Thursday I faxed a note and the referral forms I had copies of to Dr. Underwood’s office. I checked later and was told the carbonized form I faxed could not be read and that the report I sent was not what they needed. I made a trip to my doctor’s office and got a copy of the MRI report. I went home determined to make progress on getting this referral properly done and submitted. Asked again the proper form be faxed to the Spine Center, checked the Spine Center and was told again no fax was received, called the surgeon’s office and was told they got confirmation the fax was received at the Spine Center at 12:47pm. Called the Spine Center…no fax could be found.

Exasperation sets in…I am on the verge of being really ticked off. I called the surgeon’s office and asked they fax a copy of the form to my doctor’s office. Called Doctor Quarantillo’s office and asked they fill out the form and return to the surgeon. They tell me they cannot do that until the doctor sees me. I told them I had been there with him three times on this issue, and that my original request was to refer me to this surgeon and it was my doctor’s idea to try the Spine Center first. Again, they told me I must come in for an appointment. I nearly told the lady to fuck off, but held my tongue, but nonetheless she knew I was pissed.

Called the Spine Center and after a lengthy discussion got a lady who gave me the fax number that was at her desk, got it to the surgeon’s office. Viola! Finally the Spine Center had the required form. Now all the needs to be done is to get the PA I saw there to fill out the form and transmit it to the surgeon. I will check on Monday to see if it has been received.

This will be a test to the power of prayer.

And that is all I have to say about that…

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