AIDS Lifecycle Day 7: 61 miles Ventura to Los Angeles

On the last day of the ride I got out early on the road to enjoy the last 60 miles into L.A.

Saturday:
All week when I spoke to you, I told you what happened that day at the San Francisco AIDS Foundation because you rode today. Today – this exultant, glorious day at the San Francisco AIDS Foundation, all of us – clients, volunteers, staff and Board – are grateful to you. Because you rode, because you roadied, because you stood on the side of a highway and cheered – because of you, we’re ready to return home and face the challenges of another year fighting HIV and AIDS.

This was my favorite stretch of the ride - biking along the Pacific with the Santa Monica Mountains towering overhead.

Strong salty breezes came off the ocean as we continued to get closer to our goal. Very few people were out on the road this Saturday morning.

As we got closer to Malibu, more and more surfers, climbers, runners, and triathletes could be seen along the route.

Once into Malibu, it was a survival test to avoid the traffic along the Pacific Coast Highway (PCH). The traffic and population density got worse as we made our way through Malibu and into L.A.

One last climb finished off the ride as we made our way to the VA Medical Center in L.A. I purposely started early on this last day so I could meet up with some fellow Peace Corps Volunteers in L.A. for lunch.

Dana, a fellow PCV, drove up from San Diego to see me finish and meet up with another PCV and myself for lunch. This AIDS Lifecycle / California trip turned into a West Coast Peace Corps Reunion Tour for me. After the ride, I spent another week in San Diego and Los Angeles visiting a couple of PCVs.

Jim and I standing near the finish as the last riders were coming in.

This was the scene as the last riders were finishing. Motorcycles usually escorted the last riders finishing each day. This last day was no exception. They roared their engines as they coasted in, but the roar of the crowd was a bit louder.

The closing ceremonies involved rolling our bikes into a parking lot as spectators, fans, family, and friends circled the area. Dance music was pumped into the party, riders raised bikes in celebration, videos of the ride were played up on a big screen - it was a jubilant scene!

There were a few speeches about the ride and what raising $11 million dollars as a group meant to the HIV+ and AIDS community, but overall it was kept short as everyone was spent from the week of riding. The final moments were engulfed in music and crowd cheering.

I've done a lot of enduance events, but none of them compared to this trip. Never have I experienced a place and time where such a large and diverse group of people came together, took care of each other, and worked toward such a large goal. It's the kind of environment I want to strive for and live in. So, one last time, Thank You again for supporting me to do this ride. I plan on doing this ride again next year, and I encourage anyone who is thinking about doing it to not think twice about it. You won't regret it!

Thanks for reading my AIDS Lifecycle journey. I hope you enjoyed the pictures!

Take care of yourself,

Nathan

AIDS Lifecycle Day 6: 84 miles Lompoc to Ventura

It was another amazing day as we returned to the Pacific for the final time.

Friday:

Today, because you rode, you made it possible for 1,000 men, women, and children to receive AIDS care and medications in rural villages in China, South Africa, and Rwanda through the work of the Pangaea Global AIDS Foundation.

Pangaea is part of the San Francisco AIDS Foundation. Pangaea’s staff knows what it takes to prepare a country for HIV because they learned it in the US – by pioneering syringe exchange, by advocating for lower-priced drugs, by taking a firm stance about HIV prevention and education.

The first dozen or so miles took us out of Lompoc through rolling hills and smooth roads. We encountered no major hills as Jim, my tentmate (left in red and black), and I made our way to the first rest stop. I can't recall the theme of this stop, because it was early and I didn't spend much time here.

A view from the first rest stop of Day 6. A short climb after this rest stop, the route dived down into the Gaviota Pass where Hwy 1 and Hwy 101 meet and flow down toward the ocean. It was a steep decent all the way to sea level.

Jim and I at rest stop 2 on the Pacific after Gaviota Pass.

They held us up at rest stop 2 before opening up one of the highway lanes across a narrow bridge. Once the clock struck 9am, everyone rushed out of the rest stop as if it was a race. Competitive juices flowing, I gave chace.

After passing a bunch of people, and finding out who could hang and who couldn't, a pack of riders suddenly formed. But, only myself and four other guys were willing to ride at the front of a group of 25 riders. An hour later of the hardest, fastest riding of the week, we finally encountered a major hill that blew apart the group of riders into many fragments. I didn't look back as I charged up the hill to stay with the lead group of six riders. We worked together to finish the last 5 miles before heading into lunch. Exhausted, I ate my lunch in the shade and told myself to take it easy the rest of the day.

After lunch, I headed out alone and toward Santa Barbara. I wasn't alone for long as another group of about five riders formed and we pushed hard into town. So much for taking it easy! Santa Barbara was the first city that had local people out cheering on the riders, and I got a sense this was going to be a good time to take in the hospitalities of the people. How? I had no idea.

Rest stop 3 in Santa Barbara(left). With palm trees and white sandy beachs everywhere, I took my time taking in the So Cal sun biking along the beaches. The route turned off the beach and onto a bike trail that went inland a few blocks.

I was alone and gliding along the bike path when suddenly I heard screaming coming from ahead. I looked around wondering what was all the commotion. As I got closer, I realized it wasn't screaming but cheering. Cheering for me! The clouds parted and down came the heavens to deliver...

...Paradise Pit! I suddenly found myself surrounded by women spraying me down with cool mist, taking my bike and helmet, and leading me to the massage table. Organized by Paul Mitchell Salon and Spa to support the AIDS Lifecycle, this place was an oasis with massages, ice cream, music, and plenty of shade!

Where the loud cheers were coming from!

Reluctantly, I left the Paradise Pit and headed south out of Santa Barbara toward Ventura.

On the night of Day 6, there was a candlelight vigil to remember those that have died of AIDS and for hope for the future. It was a powerful scene as we all walked onto the beach and formed a gigantic rectangle in silence. After a few moments, each person walked to the water's edge and doused out their candle.

Although Day 7 was a celebration of completing the ride, Day 6 was the most complete day. It had amazing scenery but also addressed the meaning of the ride in a unique way.

AIDS Lifecycle Day 5: 45 miles Santa Maria to Lompoc

After four days of riding hard, I was looking forward to today's ride - a short 45 mile ride.

Thursday:
Because you rode, today in San Francisco – and all over the world, 40,000 people will receive BETA: The Bulletin of Experimental Treatments for AIDS. Published three times a year in English and in Spanish, BETA is widely regarded as one of the ways we learn about new treatments for HIV in the pipeline, and new biomedical interventions that prevent HIV transmission.

Day 5 was "Dress In Red Day" to create a trail of red along the route, as in the red ribbon signifying the fight against AIDS. The name, not surprisingly, was unofficially changed to "Red Dress Day."

I took a few pictures right from my tent...


This guy (notice he's smoking a cirgarette) had bolted clips on the bottom of his platform, high heel, leather boots to clip into his bike pedals. That's dedication!









I don't think this guy's shoes go with his outfit.














Morning yoga...






Since it was a short day of riding, I left camp at the latest time possible - 8:30am. The route looped out of and back into Santa Maria before the first rest stop. At the first stop, I sat and iced both achilles at the medical tent. While resting, I overheard the Physical Therapist talking about volunteering in Nicaragua last summer. Of course, I immediately struck up a conversation with her. Then, a guy who had just sat down next to me said he had volunteered north of Managua, Nicaragua for six months in 2005. To add another level of small worldness, another guy!!! sat down and overhead us talking about Nicaragua. He jumped into our conversation and said his parents were from Nandaime, a town about 10 miles from where I lived while in the Peace Corps in Nicaragua. Before anymore Nica connections appeared, I decided it was time to get going.

Heading out of Santa Maria, the route turned into a series of short, steep climbs in the California sun out of the Santa Maria River Valley. At the bottom of each climb, you could see a stream of riders all in red, and indeed, it did look like one long red ribbon. But with the climbs it was quickly turning into a tough day of riding.

I thought these were the most creative outfits of the day.


Rolling into Lompoc, I felt like I needed to sleep in a normal bed for just one night. So, I decided to walk into town and "princess it" for the night. I was asleep by 4pm.

AIDS Lifecycle Day 4: 94.7 miles Paso Robles to Santa Maria

At breakfast, I read this in the daily flyer.

Wednesday:
Today at the San Francisco AIDS Foundation, you helped our Black Brothers Esteem program serve more than 100 people. Because you rode, you made it possible for the Brothers of Black Brothers Esteem to become empowered to demand better healthcare for themselves and their partners, to speak up about HIV and AIDS, and to come together in fellowship to celebrate themselves and their sexuality. THANK YOU!

This was the best day so far in the AIDS Lifecycle! We climbed out of Paso Robles with two big climbs during the first 20 miles. Looking back at the top of the second climb (above), I felt excited about reaching the half way point of the ride and seeing the ocean again. The salty breezes were just ahead.

Once over the top, this was the view of the Pacific. We had about a seven mile decent to the ocean on smooth roads.

My Fuji Ma, retro Formaggio jersey, and I at the half way point. I bought arm guards after the first day due to the cool weather in the morning. Most days, I ended up wearing them the entire day to avoid additional sunburn. I should've worn ear guards too, because despite applying spf30 at every rest stop, by the end of the week I had second degree burns on them. Lovely!

Once at sea level, I joined up with fellow rider Annabel from San Francisco (actually she is British but living in SF) taking turns drafting as we went from coastal town to coastal town. I wanted to stop and jump in the ocean, but riding in wet, salty bike shorts was not something I wanted to experience.

After a quick rest stop, I decided to push on ahead to try and join a group of about 15 riders I saw fly by as I was filling my water bottles. Close to ten miles later, I caught up to them as the route turned inland and up about a mile climb over a ridge. Just as I caught them, the group blew up into a few fragments. Exhausted from trying to catch them, I stayed with the slower climbers until the top. Once over the ridge, I pushed on ahead dragging a couple riders with me. Three or four miles later, I caught the lead group. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to draft and rest a bit, because a mile or so later we were flying down a long hill into the Santa Maria River Valley. The strong winds on the valley floor were strong enough to flip you over, similar to Day 2. But some rest and humor were just ahead...

...the Spa Rest Stop! Enough said!

I spent some time in the shade icing my achilles tendon before heading out ahead of the other riders I came in with. There were just 10 miles to Santa Maria, and as luck would have it, there was a strong tailwind! Flying down this busy road with a wide shoulder felt great as cars weren't passing me as fast.

I collapsed at camp and took an afternoon nap for two hours before heading to the sports medicine tent. They taped my leg up a bit, and I remained on ice for a good part of the rest of the day. Of course, I had three full plates of food and seven or eight cartons of chocolate milk. Day 5 was going to be a short and easy day......or at least I thought.

AIDS Lifecycle Day 3: 77 miles King City to Paso Robles

Every morning at breakfast, there were flyers handed out with motivational stories and reasons for riding. The flyers also gave information about how we were able to help out back at the Foundation.


Sunday:
"Today, because you rode, your support helped us provide 380 people living with HIV/AIDS with subsidized housing and support services. THANK YOU!"

Monday:
"Today —and tonight – because you rode, you made it possible for 190 anonymous callers to reach out to the California AIDS Hotline for up-to-date information, referrals and support about HIV/AIDS. Our hotline takes calls from all over the state. Perhaps in Aptos, or Salinas or right here in King City, a 15-year-old boy will call tonight with a question about his first sexual experience. And HIV. THANK YOU!"

And today, Tuesday:
"Because you rode, today at San Francisco City Hall and in Sacramento and in Washington, DC, you helped the San Francisco AIDS Foundation and the LA Gay and Lesbian Center work alongside elected officials to ensure adequate funding to for housing, medical care and mental health for people living with HIV and AIDS. THANK YOU!"

I will continue with more motivational bits tomorrow, but I just want to say thank you, yet again, to all who supported me so we could all help others.

Day 3
Dry and dusty are two words to describe Day 3's route. To offset this not-as-exciting route, the volunteers/Roadies took it upon themselves to design some humorous rest stops. It was a day of tumbleweeds and crossdressed rest stop volunteers.

Please don't get me wrong when I say this day was not- as-exciting as the others. Each day of this ride was incredible and uplifting biking through this beautiful country for such a great cause.

The steepest climb of the week came about 20 miles into today's route. Quad Buster is the name of the 1.5 mile mountain pass we went over. And at the top of the climb was Ginger (left). Honestly, I don't know Ginger's story and/or background, but he, or she?, was out cheering everyday wearing the most colorful outfits you've ever seen.


Over the top of Quad Buster and down a gradual 10 mile decent, riders came upon the Fantasy Rest Stop. Most of the volunteers were dressed in pixie and butterfly outfits. Being in the middle of cowboy country and a dry valley, this sight was so out of place, which made me smile and had me laughing for the next stretch.

Unfortuntely, I didn't take any pictures of the Santa's Village Rest Stop. But maybe that's a good thing, since Santa was in all leather.

Lunch was in the small town of Bradley, population less than 200 people. The local K-12 school was having a BBQ fundraiser to raise money for books, materials, and suppies. Their academic year depends on lunch sales to the AIDS riders. Although riders were offered a free lunch by the AIDS event, most chose to buy food from the school BBQ. Later in camp, the school principal came to thank us for a successful event.

After lunch, there was a long stretch of biking along a dry river bed and onto Hwy101. The last rest stop of the day was the...


...Dreamgirls Rest Stop! Every 15 minutes or so, the "dreamgirls" would perform a show on the little stage they had set up. Too funny!

By the time I got into Paso Robles, I was in a good amount of pain. I had pushed myself on a lot of the miles so far on the ride, but now my right achilles tendon had flared up to noticable proportions. I spent the rest of the afternoon with ice bags around my ankles and trying not to walk. I was going to have to be careful.

AIDS Lifecycle Day 2: 105 miles Santa Cruz to King City

With a century ride ahead of you, it's always good to get out early to avoid as much heat as possible. This 105 mile stretch of road took us through the argicultural land of the Salinas Valley and hugged the base of a few mountain ranges as we headed south. It was a day of survival on a long and relatively flat course.

I stumbled out of our tent around 5am and noticed my right achilles tendon was a bit sore. Ignoring the pain, I got ready for the day's ride by following a schedule I would repeat every morning - eat breakfast, check on my bike, dress in bike gear, pack up, drop off my bags, and head out on the road.

It took about a 1/2 hour of riding to get out of Santa Cruz before coming upon the endless strawberry and artichoke fields. Farm laborers were out in abundance on this cool morning, some stopping to watch and wave as we passed along the poorly paved, back country roads. Just before entering the Salinas Valley, riders came upon...


...Sesame Street Rest Stop! It was great to see Big Bird wearing the latest pair of Nike crosstrainers.

Rest stops provided Gatorade, water, salty and sugar snacks, Clif Bars, fruit, medical services, and bike techs.







Just after lunch outside of the town of Salinas, I stopped to take a couple of pictures. As I was slowing, my tube on my front wheel blew. Too much air in the tube along with the California heat caused it to blow. A couple of riders, Roland and Annabel, who I would end up riding with a lot over the rest of the week, stopped to help. This was the beauty of the AIDS Lifecycle. If ever you had a problem, within seconds two or three riders would appear to help out and provide humor.


Long story short, I blew two more tubes before discoverying my tire had a small rip in it. Luckily, a sag wagon was heading back to the lunch area and was able to give me a ride back. Oh! Did I mention the drivers were dressed as pirates with skull & crossbone decorations all over their large pickup? An hour or so later, I had a new front tire and was passing the same area. Yes, it was turning into a 110 mile ride for me.

The rest of the day was blazing speeds south along the valley floor, as a strong tailwind made holding speeds in the high 20 mph on flat roads easy. Our first siting of wine grapes (above) came just northwest of Greenfield as our route headed eastward. Turning eastward and sideways into the wind was a challenge. You had to lean hard to stay upright. Later in camp, stories were being told about a few inexperienced riders flipping over due to the strong crosswinds.

The last rest stop of the day was the mock California DMV Rest Stop. The volunteers working this stop were in character, acting quite smug and grumpy. This stop also had a photo opp (left). I'm sporting the latest trend: the tri-hawk hairstyle.

The last ten miles into King City ran along a railroad bed. Rolling into camp, it felt great to have this long, hot day behind me. I went straight to the massage tent for my first of two alloted massages.

AIDS Lifecycle Day 1: 89.9 miles - San Francisco to Santa Cruz

The number 545 was my first thought as I rolled out of Rethans' hide-a-bed in the early hours of Sunday morning. As I went about readying myself for the journey ahead, I had to laugh, for I had yet again put myself in a position to complete some silly amount of mileage on my own power. Thus is the life of a sockmonkey...

After saying goodbye to Rethans, a fellow Returned Peace Corps Volunteer, I headed into the Cow Palace, our launching point for the AIDS Lifecycle. Thousands packed this agricultural expo center for the Opening Ceremonies and last words of encouragement. An hour or so later, with all my "important parts" covered in bodyglide, I was on my bike at the starting line next to my tentmate Jim, who I had just met the day before.

A fog and a crowd of spectators saw all 2300 riders off as we left the Cow Palace and climbed out of San Francisco. The going was slow as we climbed small hill after small hill, eventually making our way out of the urban setting. One thing I noticed immediately was how courteous the riders were out on the road. "On Your Left!" was something you'ld say and/or hear a lot throughout the week. This simple comment defined the AIDS Lifecycle a "ride" and not a "race."

Day 1 provided the hardest climb of the week. After rest stop 1 at mile 20, the route finally broke out of the fog, and with it a 2500 foot climb over 11 miles! Powering up the winding Skyline Blvd brought spectacular views of the Bay Area off to the east and an inverted cloud cover over the ocean to the west. Rest stop 2 was conveniently located at the top of the climb. A quick fill of my water bottles and off I went down the 12 mile decent through beautiful forests and canyons.

Fuji-Ma, my steel frame Fuji road bike, at the bottom of the decent.









The fog returned as the route pushed toward the ocean and our lunch break! The route continued up the hill (on the left side of the picture) - part of coastal Highway 1. We would see much of Hwy 1, along with Hwy 101, and the Pacific Coast Hwy throughout the week.



After lunch, the route hugged the coastline along Hwy 1. Rolling hills and beautiful, open skies provided much the backdrop for the rest of Day 1. I let the feeling of being free out on the open road wash over me. Then, I came upon this...




...dancing monkeys from the Wizard of Oz! Huh?

Each rest stop had a theme to it, and provided a little humor to keep you going. I found myself curious and excited to see what each up and coming rest stop would be. I made sure to stop at each rest stop, at least for a minute, to see what production and decorations were up. More rest stop pictures to come...


Day 1 ended in Santa Cruz where our campsite was located in the outfield of a baseball park. To the left, you can see the row of Budget Rental trucks used to carry our gear from camp to camp. This daily logistical challenge was carried out each day by Roadies - a group of volunteers who also each raised the minimum $2500 to participate.


Camp life was like no other camp I had ever been to. Semi-trucks with hot water showers, massage tent, dedication tent, hand laundry area, medical/chiro/sports medicine tent, information tent, breakfast and dinner tent, morning stretching, yoga, an organized grid of personal sleeping tents, port-a-pots with an endless supply of hand sanitizer, bike techs, protected bike area - it was essentially a moving town.


Area B/Spot 45 was where Jim, my tentmate from Los Angeles, and I shared a tent. Although Jim hardly snored, earplugs are a good idea to have while trying to sleep at night - snorefest!


Of course if you decided not to stay in camp, you could also go the route of what people were calling "princessing it." As in, I'm going to princess it tonight and stay at the Days Inn.

AIDS Lifecycle Ride

Many of you know I am raising funds for the AIDS Lifecycle. This 7 day ride in June begins in San Francisco and 545 miles later ends in Los Angeles. I am asking friends and family to donate what they can in order to help me reach my goal of raising $2500. If you have a few dollars to spare, please visit the following site to donate to this worthy cause. www.aidslifecycle.org/5604

If you are living in the Twin Cities and have nothing to do on Thursday, May 10th, please come out to Memory Lanes in Minneapolis for the Bowling & Bands AIDS Lifecycle Fundraiser. $12 will get you hours of bowling and live music by Derailleur and Cryns #3, who will be playing right on the bowling lanes! Check out the advertisement flyer: www.cryns.com/stuff/misc/memory_lanes.pdf

Thank you for all your help.
Nathan

Beyond Endurance

This is the third and final installment of dealings with my father's suicide. This last part describes living with lost love and moving on to happier times.

It is said eye muscles move about one hundred thousand times a day, yet my right gluteus maximus muscle hasn't done any work the last two years. Where have you been glute max? Luckily, I've found you and you're making a come back to restore my physical health.

What is this injector of physical health have to do with suicide? I bring this up, because physical and mental health are closely related. Before my SI joint injury, running was masking a deeper pain. I was literally running away from having to deal with thoughts about my father. This injury forced me to face these demons head on. And so I created this series of blog entries.

What defines a hero? I believe it is their villain, their arch nemesis. How else can you measure a hero than by the depth they go to to save the day? Now, I'm no hero except to myself, but I have come back from some pretty dark places involving my father's death. This has only given me confidence to talk about what happened and what becomes of those that are left behind.

I know I've been hot to touch, and have probably made a lot of people worry about my overall health and wellbeing. I'm sorry. It was just something I had to go through. And if you, or someone you know, experience this, you will probably see something similar. Hell, this is one of the reasons I'm writing this - so others know what to expect if it happens in their lives.

If suicide does hit home, or any loss for that matter, do everything you can to prove to yourself you are alive. Try some new hobby, scream at the top of your lungs, cry uncontrollably, grip a hot plate, push yourself in new ways - anything that elicits feeling. It is almost as if you have to go to extremes with every emotion, exploding many times over, just to exhaust that feeling. Once it is exhausted, you can adjust back to the stable middle. Does that make sense? Maybe. It is a process of restructuring your character.

Just don't become driftwood. Let any pain and sadness wash over you and then rebuild yourself and move on. Change all "why" questions to "how." "Why did he do this?" needs to change to "How am I going to get through this moment?" Talk about what happened! You must find a way to open up. It is only human to talk about the true struggles of life.

Then one day you will be able to manage the brokenness, which will lead to a mended soul.

As for me, I sit on the eve of my father's death. I'm looking forward to thinking about all the great things he did for my family. He was an amazing listener. He was forgiving, humble, and a bit of a jokester. He challenged me to do well in science and cross country. He was a teacher at heart. He loved giving gifts. He loved tradition. He sacrificed a lot for us. He exposed us to the West, camping, and the true art of fly fishing. He was most happy in a Jeep with a black lab. He gave the best hugs. He loved us very much.

Looking forward, I look to questions about what I want out of my life. I want a simple life. I've slightly altered my career path lately, and it will be for the better. With some patience and a bit of good fortune, I hope to one day have a family. If I get that opportunity, I will put love and effort into my family like my father did. This life would be full and worthwhile.

As I was writing that last paragraph, I remembered I already have a great, supportive family. Throw in the handful of solid friends that exist, and my life is already good.

Now, how can I get all of them to move to Minnesota?

Thanks for listening to me. I hope this finds you well and looking up. Take care of yourself.

Endurance

This is the second of three installments involving facing my father's suicide. This second part describes the monster I've been at war with.

"The end product of love is pain and hurt." I don't like this quotation, but it was slapped on my forehead when my father took his life six years ago. The vast valley that was created with his departure has yet to be crossed. Think about someone, something you love more than anything. I mean someone, something you love with all your heart. Then have them removed from your life with no explanation.

I've wrote about this before in another media, but when someone dies of cancer, car crash, or bear mauling there is (usually) an explanation. With suicide, those left behind are planted into a world of confusion. Why? Why? Why did he do it? Endless questions pop up never to be answered, because the one who can answer them is gone forever. It is a misery I would never wish upon another. It is a constant fog you're driving through, and putting on your bright lights will only make it worse. It is having your heart ripped out, rearranged, and put back in so not to work properly for some time. It is a complete loss of emotional control. It is an exhausting mental battle that rages on for years. Simply put, it is a deep, lost love - the worst loss of them all.

"What would make someone take their own life?" This question engulfed me for months after my father's death. I tried to put myself in his shoes, in his mindset. It was a dangerous path, and probably not a wise one. After exploring many dark paths and my imagination, I came upon a time and place where I knew if I continued I would end up hurting myself. So, I turned and walked away, but not without scars.

Those scars still exist today. The "why" questions are also still lingering. WHY SHOULD I GO DOWN TOO??? I didn't have any such grand problems before this, and now I'm fighting off this pain and hurt with sword and shield to save myself.

Past, present, future. What also hurts is what he will miss in my life. This runs too deep to sometimes deal with, but he is never going to be part of anything I do. If one day I am lucky enough to get married and have a family, he won't be a part of their lives. It is sad. Sad because he was a great person, and they won't ever know him.

God, whatever or whoever you are, my father didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know he was going to cause so much pain and destruction in his wake. He was in a painful place. A place where he couldn't handle being alive. So he left. Please forgive him.

The final installment will continue next week and will describe new tactics on looking forward and finding my place in the universe. Until then, take care of yourself.

The above painting is by Fred Tomaselli called Colony.

Within A Protest

This is the first of a three part series facing what has consumed me for much of the last six years: my father's suicide. This first part is me digging deep and picking a fight.

I stand here now within a protest. A protest against how my inner self is being consumed by never-to-be-answered questions. This king of pain role I've been in has gone on far too long, and it is time I right this ship, my ship away from the path of fatalism.

The latter part of March, the same time as my father's final deterioration, brings about a mental obstacle I've had a hard time getting over. I've often collapsed, gone numb, lost all control in trying to figure out this code. My plan has always been to wave the white flag, take all the pain and helplessness square in the chest, and walk into April bloodied from being blown away from the loss.

But now I'm digging in and picking a fight against what I've become. Anger, the only emotion I haven't felt about my father's death, will finally find me. Bouncing back from any blow will be quick and confidence will be my new spring jacket. Pain is not going to take me down any farther into the abyss. I'm climbing out of this mess and finding simplier times.

Will winning this fight mean letting go of him? No. Not completely. There will always be a few thin strings tugging at me.

Can people change? Can this change come over me? There is no place for doubt here, because I know if I can't fight for myself, well, then no one will. But, I know I will never be able to go back to the way I was when he was alive. Call it a scar. Or call it playing Boggle with my soul. I may look similar but my way of thinking will have different meanings.

Armed with a new determination and a stronger heart, I now go into the monster's den for the next couple weeks. The only acceptable outcome can be a new found peace. It is there. I know it is. I just have to fight my way through what has been pulling me down for so long.

Don't be afraid. Dealing with suicide can scare you out of your mold. It can get you lost and confuse you, but don't be afraid. I've made it this far and plan on seeing this through to a new light, a new outlook.

The second part will continue next week with a description of the monster I am actually facing. Until then, take care of yourself.

5 Card Sorry!

Lookout Texas Hold 'Em! 5 Card Sorry! is now the hot game in town!

Back in the early 80s, my father and I decided the original Sorry! game and rules were too boring, too robotic. The game was a process of going through the motions flipping one card over at a time and leaving it entirely up to chance. Strategy, a key element in making a game great, was no where to be found.

There was so much potential in the original. Just look at the board! There are safe houses, slides, and curveball playing cards (my favorite is the 11 switch). And don't you just love the Sorry! font? I can't get enough of it. But the makers botched it by keeping the rules elementary and targeting it toward children under 12.

I don't understand. So this game was suppose to teach kids to say Sorry! when they, by chance (i.e. it's not their fault), killed another player? I don't see the lesson. The only long term effect I saw happening was kids learning how to say Sorry! and not mean it.

Throwing the above out the window, my dad and I changed three things that made Sorry! into an all out vicious, deliberately killing rainbow colored survival game. Three simple changes created a monster fight. Here they are:

1. Deal 5 cards out to each player. Each player plays from their hand. When you play one of your cards, you need to pick up another. Always have 5 cards in hand.
2. At the start of the game, each player gets one of their playing pieces active in the 1st box.
3. If you use the 2 card to make a playing piece active, you place it on the 2nd box from your start, and not on the 1st box.
   

Rule #1 not only adds strategy to Sorry! but makes knocking off other players deliberate. A game of sweet revenge indeed! Rules #2 and #3 help speed the game up a bit. The original had you wait until a 1, 2, or Sorry! appeared to get you out of start. Often, you could take a brief nap before someone got out. Rule #2 gets you going right from the beginning. Rule #3 allows you more room to get playing pieces out of start, or another chance to knock someone off if they are sitting in your 2nd box.

I hope you enjoy these new rules of Sorry!

I recently viewed a re-released version of Sorry! and saw they have Adult rules that are similar to the above, but not exactly the same. These rules must have come out recently because they weren't present in our early 80s version.

2 Tickets to The Police

Monday March 5th, 2007. 10 am. Ticketmaster.com. 2 tickets purchased.

The year was 1983 and my aunt Carolyn was babysitting me. We were down in my grandparents' unfinished basement. She was watching a soap opera while I was making a fort out of folding tables, bed sheets, and pillows.

I peaked out my head just in time to see the soap plot thicken. A stalker was closing in on his victim, but at the last second he backed off. On queue a song came on....."every breath you take, every move you make, I'll be watching you..."

I remember saying to Carolyn, "I like this song, but the show is kind of creepy." Then I asked who was playing. Instead of answering, she took me upstairs, showed me a large poster of The Police hanging on her wall, and put in their latest album Synchronicity. My impressionable youth was exposed and I've been hooked since.

Say what you want about Sting and his worldly solo career, but when The Police were together they were pure, raw energy. Their earlier songs like "Fall Out" and "Truth Hits Everybody" are great substitutes for a can of Red Bull. Such driving music instills instant confidence. It's a force you want to get on and ride until exhaustion.

In six short years, The Police climbed to the top feeding rebellious souls with each new song. Then in 1983, while at the top, they broke up. It wasn't until later we learned that constant arguing and differing opinions toward song writing and lyrics eventually split the band. But now they are back for a reunion tour and to celebrate the 30 Anniversary of the release of "Roxanne."

You should allow yourself to go all out on at least one band in your life. The Police is my choice. That's why I forked over a couple hundred dollars to see them come this July. But I'm not going to stop there. I'm buying the tour t-shirt, the bumper sticker, the mug, and the tour pin.

I have an extra ticket. Do you want to go?