I'm so proud of my mom.

Today was a bit of a bummer, but there were a few highlights.

Rolled home at about 7am and sat down in front of this thing in a funk. Need-to-know kinda shit. So anyway... I popped open OE and read one from Mushy reminding me that he was going to see the Black Crowes in Knoxville Wednesday night with a load of good friends. For a second, I actually thought to myself "You know, If I left right now... I might be able to get there by show time." SHEEEIIITTTT!

I tell ya, I've GOT to get a new set of friends around here. Boring the shit out of me lately. Never want to go do anything, accept go out after work and play pool. Cheeeerist! Have to drag them kicking and screaming to do anything else. The Crowes are playing in Austin and Ft. Worth in a few weeks, and I'm havin' a hell of a time finding anyone who wants to go. Got one ticket to the Austin show, but waiting on word from others about the show at Billy Bobs. Well, I'll have a good time anyway!

So, I stuff it all, like usual, shower, dress and head to work to teach my lunch time classes. My mom calls me about half way through class and tells me that she's bought a new car and needs me to come over to Temple to help them go get it.

Mom and dad have been talking for a long time about replacing the old Grand Marquis. With about 120,000 miles and lots of little dings and creeks, mom was worried that it would start to cost them money on repairs. So I was trying to get them into something. I wanted to take them out to look at a used Camry, but never could get mom to go with me to look.

Thing is, dad always handled these sorts of things in the family. He always got the cars fixed, and decided what they needed, and did all the talking with the dealer. And of course, the cars were always in his name. Dad did everything, to the point that I didn't know anything about buying a car till I did it for myself the first time, buying this Solara. Dad even put gas in the cars for years, with mom never having to worry about it. It was like he saw this as his job as the provider, and the boss, to do everything, and felt hurt if we wanted to do anything or make any decisions on our own.

This time, dad couldn't do anything. He's beyond it. Usually doesn't remember the last thing he said fifteen minutes ago. Tells the same stories over and over, and says things to me like "Did I ever tell you about taking my father to see your house?" His dad's been dead for 45 years.

So this time, mom did it all. She looked in the paper and decided what sort of car she wanted, went out to the dealership and found the car she liked, and then made the deal to get it. There was an unexpected wrinkle though. In stead of trading in the old Grand Marquis, she ended up getting a fat check from the insurance company.

About two weeks ago, driving dad to the VA for his morning exercise, she was back-ended by another elderly lady. The car was drivable, but with the age and mileage, the insurance company decided to total it. They would never have gotten much from the dealer in trade, but USAA ended up giving them $4000! Mom put the money down on the new car, and we went over today to pick it up.

It's a 2007 Buick Lucerne, with about 20,000 miles on it. Beautiful! The colors are perfect (I think it's called Sagemist Metallic). I was amazed and so proud of her. I told her it was beautiful, and that she'd done a great job. She was relieved, hanging on my words, thinking that maybe I wouldn't like it. I told her how proud I was of her, gave her a big kiss and she hugged me really tight.

We went into the office so that mom could sign all the paperwork, and dad sat to the side, next to the wall. As mom signed all the papers, the car being in her name this time, dad spoke up saying that he felt like crying, like he was unnecessary. We all told him not to be silly, but it broke my heart.

I looked out the big glass pane window at the blue sky and billowing white clouds and almost started crying myself. Then the finance guy gave dad a little box, and told him "This is for you." He fumbled with it but couldn't open it, so I got up to help him. I was thinkin' it might be a cool little pocket knife, but it was a cheap little Buick key ring and emblem. It was like giving a shiny toy to a little kid to give him something to play with.

My heart broke again as I remembered how strong and authoritarian this little old man once was. He used to be in control, to the point that the rest of us were left unprepared for life. God, I used to hate him. Now, at 85, he has just enough memory to now how things used to be, and how much fun it was being in control, but not enough to be able to function on his own on any real level. It's a terrible limbo to watch him walk around in. I find myself some times wishing he'd die quietly in the night, so he wouldn't have to deal with the indignities of his age and ill health, but that's not the way life goes.

I took the Marquis back to their house while mom drove dad home in the new car. I took the old DOD stickers and plates off the old car and emptied it of all their gear, and parked it out front of their house so the USAA folks can pick it up tomorrow. I got all this done just in time to jet back to Killeen to teach my 4:45 PM class. I didn't have any time to relax at all, and all I could think about on the drive back to the base was my poor old dad, and my buddy in Knoxville, havin' a great time.

In about two hours and a bit, I took my students from the Boston Massacre to the end of the Revolution in 1792, and then after class I headed over to the local Chinese food place to meet Denise and a mutual friend from work. Some of you, who read this thing regularly, may know that Mushy's cousin Kay works here on Ft. Hood. The three of us met at The Great Wall Cafe and had a great dinner. I sat and listened to the two of them solve all the schools problems, and it was a hoot. I was forbidden from taking any pictures.

Afterwards, my sweetie and I retired to the house in our individual cars, and while I sat down here to check email, she made a trip to the grocery store. She knew I was feeling down, and that it'd been a crappy day, so she got me a present. When she got here, she busted out a six pack of Guinness Draught! The bottles, with the little doohickey in them. Her English family drinks this stuff, and from what I'd heard, it's supposed to be pretty stout shit.

Usually I'll start to feel a little buz after a few dark beers, especially if I chug 'em. Well, I've downed two of these so far tonight without even a hint of a buzz. Kind of a let down. Tastes like stale root beer, without the sweetness. Not really BAD, but not all that ether. I dunno man. Maybe it's not hittin' me because my gut is loaded with the generals chicken and shrimp fried rice. Who knows? Maybe I need to kill off a few more. Well, I'll save the binge for later.

Mushy briefly called me from the concert a little while later, and it sounded like he was being jammed by the NSA. I called him a bit later and he told me that the concert was a bust. Lousy sound system. Go over to his site when he posts the review and he'll lay it all out for ya. I was very disappointed. I love the Black Crowes to death. I saw them in about 1995 in Austin, in a little intimate venue, with Government Mule as their lead-up band. They knocked my socks off back then, touring to support their wonderful Armorica album. Well, I'm hopin' they fix the issue, whatever was, by the time they get to The Backyard in Austin, because I'll me layin' on the lawn, cuttin' class and chillin' to the tunes.

Well, that's enough for a Wednesday night. Have a great day, and I'll see ya later. Cheers.