Back to SLO

Note the stack of planes over the wing.

I got back here Tuesday night at about midnight local time, 15 hours to go 3000 miles. I remember when that was a 6 hour trip. In Chicago, they forgot to have a plane with a windshield waiting, and when they finally got one 1.5 hours later, a weather system had moved in. They loaded the plane so we wouldn't run away, and then had us sit on the tarmac for another 1.5 hours. Needless to say, I missed my connection in SLO, and now was faced with the last flight out of SFO to SBP, etd of 10:45, the fog time. That is why I had booked the earlier flight, ever wary of the FOG.

We landed though, and I fell into my own bed. Happy to be here.

We held a memorial service for my Mom on Sunday, the 12th, a simple affair with a short prayer service, and many of Mom's friends and neighbors paid their respects, as did the friends of all the siblings. We then held a reception or collation, as they say in RI, meaning everyone was invited to gather at a local restaurant for food and drink. This worked out perfectly, as we were completely guessing on how many would attend and had only room for one more person and plenty of very good food.

In the days following, I found myself occasionally thinking, I should call Mom, and then catch myself. That will pass.

I can't say enough about the kindness of Bill and Rose, providing us (my brother and I) with food and lodging, and Leslie and Bob for lending me a car, and for putting up Lisa and Manuel. I went golfing with Bill a few times, and played badly and felt badly for days after. Wrecked my back and left shoulder and ego, waaah.

Randy and Gail were super kind too, throwing an awesome and delicious dinner party for me and many of my old friends. They've done this before when I stumbled into town. Unfortunately, I started getting a toothache the Saturday before while golfing with Bill, and my left jaw started going numb. On Tuesday the dentist yanked a bad tooth (#21) and put me on penicillin for the infection, so I couldn't eat fast enough at the dinner party, and Pat and Paul ate all the brownies before I got any.

A couple of days later a bunch of hooligans gathered at the Narragansett Inn in Jamestown to hear the Lois Greco Band play, and they rocked. Lois was channeling Janis Joplim, and Earl was smoking the bass (guitar not fish), and our ears fell off. See http://www.loisgreco.com/. Check out the videos, this band is tight!

Instead of watching the Patriots lose to the hated Jets, Earl took me out on his boat on the Narrow River on Sunday afternoon, and asked me 200 questions about my relationships with people, in preparation for his next career, 'Dr. Earl, Hoarse Whisperer.' It was nearing sunset, and we headed to the rivermouth. Igor was leaving his mark, so we did not venture into the sea, but it was beautiful and serene.

Monday Pat and Bill McNiff and I got together for lunch in Narragansett, and then went to check the waves.  Bill and I traded leukemia tales, and I will try to cure my hand cramping with salt.  I neglected to take any pictures, and not protect the innocent as there were none present.  I checked my phone and I only took one pic the entire trip, and that is above.  Sheesh, I claim brain damage.