Initial Impressions 2.0 Blog #123: A Classic Story, Birthdays & Graduations, Meteors, etc.

1. It sometimes shocks me to think that I have been a part of social media for 23 years. My first profile was created for Friendster in 2003. We’re closing in on half of my life chronicled online. This is all on Facebook, as nothing original from Friendster or Myspace exists anymore. I check the memories page on Facebook daily. It creates some fun snapshots of different chapters of my life. One rabbit hole that I fell down this week had to do with the last year of my Nana’s life. There wasn’t much of substance relating to her from 2009. However, a specific memory popped up this week. It involved someone hitting my parked car while I was at my Nana’s house. In short, the guy did a U-turn and rear-ended my Jeep, destroying the rear axle. This guy was a weirdo and wanted desperately to go inside and talk to my 85-year-old Nana. Why? To tell his side of the story? It’s like, dude, you hit my parked car, tell me the story, not my grandmother. Anyway, I went way down the rabbit hole of that accident story and turned it into a great blog (I think). It was the last classic story of my life while my Nana was still alive. You can read the blog here: The Final Classic Story From My Nana's Life



2. I was asked to do an author talk about my latest book for this summer at a local library. It was all set up with the date and time. Then the person who reached out to me about the event said the date they agreed to had already been taken. Funny how they offered it and agreed to it, but then went back on that. Okay fine. So I rescheduled. I filled out paperwork to use their conference room, which I’ve never had to do for any event I’ve ever done. Whatever, it was all set. This week, the same person reached out and said they needed to reschedule yet again. No reason given. So I sent in a pair of dates I could do, making this the third different set of dates for a show at this same library. I am not sure if they are incompetent. Maybe they think they can just jerk me around and I will continue to reschedule my talk, which, remind you, they reached out to me for? While I love to do these speaking events and I will be way more flexible than I probably should be, part of me wants them to not be able to accommodate my new dates so I can just tell them to take a hike. We’ll see what happens.


3. After writing the full treatment for a sitcom I am trying to get picked up, I joined a website where people post their shows in the hopes that television companies and execs will see it and possibly want to create it. I am hopeful but not holding my breath since I know that for every person like me, there are probably hundreds of others, many likely with good ideas as well. I want to make the best impression I can, so I shot a video and shared the full details of the proposed show. Any decent profile needs a photo, so obviously, I wanted to put a good face out there. That’s where the hiccups came. No matter what I did, the site kept saying there were issues with my photo. I tried several photos before finally contacting the website. I explained my issue and then also said I could send the photo to them, asking if they could just put it on my profile. Instead, they recommended changing the size, the DPI, and the file format of the photo. Each time it didn’t work, and I reiterated that it might be easier to just send them my photo. Finally, after three times of being given advice that didn’t work, they asked me to send the photo. Gee, thanks for listening. It only took a week and a handful of messages. I don’t think that I missed any opportunities in the week that my profile was up without a photo, but still, would it have taken more than five seconds to plug my photo in? It probably took 1,000 times more effort to write three emails than it would to click and post. Oh well, it’ll be worth it if the show gets picked up.


4. Despite creeping toward 50, I still enjoy playing basketball every now and then. I don’t play competitively; my body can’t handle that. I go to a nearby recreation area where there is a court that is almost always empty. I went this week to shoot around for a while. It was a perfect afternoon. Well, except for one thing. It’s pollen season. Oh boy, did that come into play. Every time I bounced the ball, a puff of yellow dust came up. I made it 15 minutes before I was getting gassed, but I pressed on. I needed to make it to at least half an hour of good cardio. By the time I hit that mark, I was pretty much choking on the pollen. I must have had a cloud of the stuff all around the court like I was Pigpen in Peanuts. My black shirt and shorts were coated in yellow like powdered sugar on a donut. That being said, it ended up being a good shoot around, and I burned over 300 calories. Not too shabby.

Me playing basketball this week.

5. I highly recommend The Burroughs on Netflix. I had been waiting for it since I saw the first trailer a little over a month ago, and it did not disappoint. Without spoiling anything, it is basically like a perfect mixture of Stranger Things and Cocoon. It centers around a retirement community that is a town in the middle of the desert. It stars several big-time actors like Alfred Molina, Bill Pullman, and Geena Davis. She is excellent, and there is a nod to Thelma & Louise in it. It is eight episodes, so an easy binge. Or you can be like me and savor it and only watch one episode per night. Even then, it only lasted a little over a week. It has been really popular on Netflix since debuting, so my hope is that it gets greenlit for a second season because there is a lot of room for more story. Go and check it out if you can.

6. A nightmare scenario almost came true this week. Since Memorial Day Weekend has passed, the beaches have gotten their porta-potties back. There is a beach I like to spend a few minutes at on my way to work most days. I took a little walk and decided to use the facilities before heading back to my car. A few steps from the porta-potty, I spotted what looked like a septic truck entering the parking lot. I figured whoever was driving saw me. Then I heard the beeping of it backing up. It dawned on me that they were there to empty the porta-potty. For a brief moment, I didn’t know what they were going to do. Bust in through the door? Strap the thing to the truck and take off with it? Even if they didn’t see me, I knew they weren’t just going to knock the porta-potty over to empty it. They’d have to open the door, which was locked. I don’t know why I felt this sense of dread while listening to the truck backing up. I stepped out and gave a wave to the driver, and everything was fine. I hope those guys get paid well. I have seen some of the most disgusting porta-potties, and knowing that people have to clean them is just nasty. So yeah, pay the septic people more, they literally deal with shit for a living.


7. This weekend, I was able to see my nephew Landon graduate from high school. It’s an interesting feeling to watch someone you’ve known since they were born taking that step into whatever the next chapter of their life is. I say this time around is interesting because next week marks 30 years since I graduated high school, so my mind has been back in those bygone days of 1996. At times, I feel like I have one foot back in my youth with the other foot trying to keep me moving forward into the future. There are times when I feel confused. How can the younger generation of family be moving on to the ‘real world’ when I feel like I haven’t firmly established myself? Luckily, I am not the only one. Everywhere I look, I find people my age expressing how they don’t feel like they’ve got being an adult down to a science. I kind of long for the days of having a textbook to follow when going through classes in school. Now all you can do is keep walking the path you’re on and hope that you’re going the right way.




8. Pontificating aside, the graduation was a fun family event. The weather was rainy and windy. It held off when we all arrived, but by the time we walked outside, the wind was kicking up, and the rain had started falling. It’s a shock to the system to be standing outside on the last weekend of May with wind chills around 40. A sunny and warm outdoor graduation would have been better, but I’m just glad I was there at all. I didn’t get to see my nephew Liam’s graduation, and my niece Emma’s graduation was during COVID. I did manage to see it from outside the fence at the high school, but it wasn’t the same. I wish we could have had a family cookout after, like we did for my oldest niece, Kaleigh, but just being with a good chunk of family was a pleasure that I don’t get nearly as often as I wish I did. We got some photos before the rain really kicked up to remember the day.


9. Staring down 50 in 18 months, I think, has made my sentimental side take over a lot in my life. I find that there are a lot of achievements, celebrations, graduations, and such that give me mixed emotions. I am happy to see and be around family, but then I end up feeling a bit empty and bittersweet. It’s not anything they do. It is the sad reality that we don’t all get together like we used to. I miss the giant holidays at my grandparents' houses. I miss big cookouts, family reunions, and hangouts just because. As we all go down the roads of our own lives, sometimes they can take us further from each other, even though we might not physically be too far apart. Jobs take up hours, and schedules don’t match. Other obligations can make it so that only when events like achievements, celebrations, and graduations come around can the family find a way to be together. It’s bittersweet because there are only so many of those types of events. If I could, I would have family get-togethers every week until we got so sick of each other that we had to pause them to recharge. Sadly, that isn’t in the cards for me currently. All I can do is check my calendar to see what the next event is that might result in another big family gathering.


10. There was a high wind warning this weekend. It was on the day of my nephew’s graduation. It really picked up in the afternoon with winds gusting 40-50mph. Despite the terrible weather, I needed to head out to the store plus to get gas. I could feel how bad the wind was while driving. It felt like my car was being pushed side to side at times. At this point, it was only in the mid 40s with wind chills dipping near freezing, at the end of May. I stopped for gas and didn’t pay attention to the wind. When I opened my door, the wind took it. The door ended up smashing into a trash can and sending it toppling over. I picked it back up, but it made the person pumping gas next to me look worried. I don’t know if she thought I was mad about gas prices and just karate kicked the garbage over. I figured I’d leave it a mystery rather than explain to her about the wind. She probably wouldn’t have believed me, or freaked out, scared, and taken off.


11. It’s not every day that a meteor comes flying into the Earth’s atmosphere. It’s even rarer when it happens only an hour from where you live. This weekend, we had a meteor rumored to be about three feet in diameter explode through the sky around Boston. The sonic booms were captured by all sorts of cameras. Apparently, the sound could be heard anywhere from Montreal to Delaware. It happened around 2:30 pm, and I was inside, so I have no clue if we could hear it. Reports said it landed in Cape Cod Bay. Not sure if anyone is going to try to find it or not. Plus, there was a rare Blue Moon that same night. So to recap, on the same day in Massachusetts, there were gale-force winds, snow, a meteor, and a blue moon. I love my home.

Radar picking up the exploding meteor(WWLP)

12. My niece Kaleigh celebrated her 27th birthday this weekend. It’s amazing how fast time can go. I fully remember my sister Kate being pregnant with her and having me drive my beat-up old Ford F-150 down the bumpiest roads we could find to try to induce labor. I have vivid memories of moving all of our stuff into a new house with my stepfather, Serpa, on the day Kaleigh was born. He and I were the last to the hospital to meet Kaleigh. I was 21 and had orange-yellow hair, an eyebrow ring, and a hemp necklace. It was the dawning of the full-on quarter-life crisis. I remember those early months being a travel trio with Kate, Kaleigh, and the numerous people who thought she was my daughter. My sister’s reaction was always priceless. I bring these memories up because, for as much as I am not a fan of getting older myself, I can deal with aches and pains and grays because I know I got to spend so much quality time with my nieces and nephews. The bittersweet feeling I tend to get around their milestones as they grow mainly comes from knowing that with each passing day, our roads grow further apart. I don’t have regrets about not spending enough time with them as kids because I actually did. In a world where I have had way too many regrets to count, the time I spent with my nieces and nephews is not one of them. I tend to get very reflective in moments like these. It was a good week for family and a good week to be reflective.

The Final Classic Story From My Nana's Life

Social media has been a part of my life since 2003, when I created my profile on Friendster. It has been mostly a blessing as it allows me to keep in touch with family and friends while also sharing my work, thoughts, and random moments from life.

In one major way, it has been a blessing because it serves as a makeshift journal chronicling my life. Anything on Friendster has long since been lost. Anything on Myspace, at least from its heyday, has also been lost. The biggest storage container of the memories of my life on social media is Facebook.

Since the spring of 2007, my life and the events of it have been shared on Facebook. Every day I look at the ‘Memories’ page, and it brings me back to different chapters of my life. It’s amazing to think that I started on Facebook at 29, and later this year, I will turn 49. It’s getting very close to half of my life.

A recent post from the memories page is what spurred this article on. When it comes to my grandparents, the three who were alive during my lifetime at least, my final memories of them are different. Not so much the very end. They were all sad, but in a small way, also a relief because they were all old and suffering to a different degree. I am looking at the final full years of their lives.

My Grampa’s final year, May 2018 through May 2019, is burned into my mind. He was trending downward from the effects of dementia. The older memories still remained, but ask him about present-day, and it was a lot of stammering and blank stares.

My last truly wonderful moment with my Grampa was sharing a photo of his childhood home in Fitchburg, Massachusetts, with him in November 2018. From then on out, it was a rapid decline and an end that was sad, but a relief because, as I said, he was suffering.

My Grampa's childhood home in Fitchburg, MA

My Nina’s final year, March 2020 through March 2021, was awful. I am sure most of you see the timeline there and know what was going on. My Nina’s final year was spent in lockdown at the assisted living facility she had been at.

The sad irony was that I had been working at that same place and had access to her every day I worked. I would visit every day, bring the foods she liked, including raising toast and bacon. If anybody questioned it, I said I was family, and I was giving her what she wanted, and basically, they couldn’t stop me.

Mere weeks before the COVID pandemic shut the world down, I left that job. I was looking for part-time so that I could start getting back into personal training. It was a huge mistake. The new job was a terrible step down, with or without the pandemic. Leaving my Nina on her own when I had been there has left me with guilt that I might never live down.

When it comes to my Nana, things are a bit blurry. Her last year was December 2008 through December 2009. With my Nina and Grampa having lived until much more recently, I have found that their lives remain fresh in my mind. Having been nearly 17 years since my Nana died, it can be hard to form a clear picture of her last year.

My last real memory of my Nana in a normal sense was around my birthday in early November 2009. I would always visit her even as I grew older into my 30s. It wasn’t until after she had ended up in an assisted living facility at the end that a few things became clearer.

Her memory was slipping, but at 85, that was to be expected. Physically, she had much more trouble walking. It became more of a shuffle. This actually led to a funny story during those final months.

I was sitting at the dining room table as I had done hundreds of times in my life. I believe that I had my laptop open and I wanted to show her something. Sitting on the floor next to me was Nana’s cat Mittens. She was a black and white striped cat who, by that time, had to have been 15 years old.

Nana came over to look, but in doing so stepped on Mittens’ tail. She screamed out and tried to run away. My Nana, with her legs weak and heavy now, couldn’t lift her foot fast enough. It ended up looking like a cartoon with Mittens jumping into the air with all four feet elevated, but stuck by her tail under Nana’s foot. Eventually, she lifted her foot, and Mittens ran off. Her anger only lasted until Nana opened a fresh can of cat food for her. This video is from October 2009, just over two months before my Nana died.

The social media aspect of this post comes through when I had a memory pop up from May 2009. A story I had totally forgotten about. I will share it, but it also made me want to take a trip back in time and see what other sorts of stories I might have shared during my Nana’s final year.

The final hurrah in terms of classic memories with my Nana actually has little to do with her. She was more of a background player in what turned out to be a typical event in my life.

It all began with a car accident. I was at a pretty rural intersection in Yarmouth. I had never before, or since, had anything remotely odd happen at that meeting of the roads. On this date, August 27, 2008, I stopped, looked both ways, and started through the intersection. Then I saw it.

A car came barreling around a bit of a blind corner. It flew through the intersection. I had a moment to cut my wheel and turn away before the car t-boned me. It hit me on the driver’s side just in front of the tire, spinning me around. My airbag didn’t deploy, which was great. If I hadn’t cut the wheel, who knows what types of injuries I would have had?

My totaled Saturn

I was fine and stepped out of my car only to see the other vehicle slowly, very slowly, driving away. I chased after it, yelling and swearing because this jerk had slammed into me and was trying to sneak away like they were a naughty child. It turned out I wasn’t too far off.

A neighbor ran out and chased the car down while another man came out to check on me. It ended up being the same man who was our school police officer at my high school back in the day. He’s asking me if I’m okay, and I’m getting excited to see him because it has been 20 years.

The man who hit me ended up being 95 years old. Insurance took care of everything, but unfortunately, my Saturn Ion was considered totaled. I ended up having to get a rental car for a few days while beginning the search for a new car. The tie to my Nana was that I was heading to her house after work on that day. So I ended up not making it due to my car being totaled.

This time, instead of choosing a smaller sedan that was good on gas, I went with a Jeep Liberty SUV. 4X4, heated leather seats, moon roof, terrible gas mileage, but whatever. I loved it.

The winter was great. I didn’t have to worry about getting stuck in the snow or sliding on ice with my Jeep. I figured that the accident with my previous vehicle was an anomaly and a story I’d be telling for years. It turned out that there was a sequel on its way.

Flash forward to May 25, 2009, and the reason for this entire post. Thanks for making it this far.

I was at my Nana’s house. It was getting dark, so it must have been closing in on 8pm. I was probably watching a rerun of The Simpsons with my father while Nana was sitting at the dining room table.

From outside, I heard a crash. Thinking there had been a collision, I jumped up from the chair and looked outside. I spotted a sedan to the right side just at the edge of my Nana's yard. Its front end was smoking, but it was still trying to drive off. There was no other vehicle until I realized what had collided with that car: my parked Jeep.

This vehicle had slammed into the rear end of my Jeep while doing a U-turn in the middle of the road. Then they tried to sneak off, much like the old man the previous August. I knew that my rear axle had to be trashed from the collision.

I ran outside yelling at the other car. This scrawny guy steps out. He was probably around my age, then early 30s. I could tell he must have been on something by the way he was speaking in stuttering phrases while being very jittery.

Flashbacks of my Saturn popped into my head, and I started going off on the guy. How could he be so reckless as to slam into my parked car? I wasn’t in the middle of the street. I asked him if he was drunk, and suddenly his demeanor changed.

He started begging me not to call anybody. He begged to be able to go inside and talk to the people in there. So this tweaking weirdo wanted to go inside and talk to my 85-year-old grandmother? No way.

By this point, my Nana had come to the door to see what was up. This bag of bones sees her and starts calling out to her. He’s begging to be allowed to go in and talk to her. Why? Honestly, what did he need to speak to my Nana? To plead his case? You hit my car, pal. Plead your case to me.

I stood between him and the front door, telling him explicitly that there was no way I was letting him near my Nana. I demanded his insurance info. Now my father had come out, and the other guy finally relented. Granted, he was still pleading his case, but what could he say? He hit a parked car like a moron.

I remember being so mad. Part of me was mad that I had stayed a little longer at my Nana’s. The whole situation could have been avoided if I hadn’t been there. That was just misguided anger. It was a random coincidence that nobody could have predicted.

I believe I drove my Jeep home, but then I didn’t dare to drive it. The sketchy other driver continued to bat 1,000 by ducking his insurance company for days. I had to think seriously about going to the police to get this guy to cooperate. I was also shopping around for a good, reliable mechanic to fix the Jeep.

A few days were spent chasing the guy down and getting his insurance company to handle the claim. I did a lot of walking until I got a rental car, which ironically ended up being the same model as a friend at work. That should be where the story ended, but it wasn’t.

A rare photo of that rental car.

You’d think that it would be as easy as bringing the Jeep to the mechanic and getting the rear axle fixed. Nope. Come on, why would it be that easy? From the day that the accident happened to the day that the Jeep was 100% again was two months.

Not only did it need a new rear axle, but a new fuel tank as well. There was also confusion from both insurance companies as to the actual place where my vehicle was. I had to deal with the idiot who hit my car, calling me angrily, asking about where my Jeep was. In reality, the guy was pissed that he had caused way more damage than he thought. It’s like, hey dude, don’t drive like a moron, and things like this won’t happen.

After five weeks of rental cars, walking, and even riding bikes, I got my Jeep back. Almost immediately, my battery died. It was a comedy show, as anytime I wanted to go somewhere, I had to pop the hood and jump my battery. I believe I had borrowed a portable battery charger. This was every single time I needed to start it. So back to the mechanic it went.

As I mentioned, it was two full months before the Jeep was purring like a kitten again. I loved that vehicle, but an issue would rear its ugly head. Gas prices. Shortly after my Nana died in the last week of 2009, I started doing road trips to cope. I took photos and wrote articles about the places I saw. Those articles are actually way, way back in the archives of this blog.

Gas prices were nearly as high as they are in 2026. Each trip I took got further from home and cost more. I knew I had to make a choice. It was either the road trips that were soothing my soul after my Nana’s death, or the Jeep that up to that point had been my favorite vehicle I had.

In the end, I chose the road trips. I sold the Jeep and got a Ford Focus. Great gas mileage, average looking, but it allowed me to keep logging loads of miles. It worked out for the best.

Me parking my new Ford in some odd places.

Only when going through my Facebook archives did I come upon this story of the Jeep accident. It makes me glad that I have shared as much as I have on social media. I have a great memory, but some things slip through the cracks.

Besides that accident and her standing on Mittens’ tail, there aren’t many memories I have from my Nana’s final year. Luckily, in her case, and the case of all of my grandparents, I have more than enough memories to keep them alive inside my mind for as long as I live.

That is a big reason why I choose to share stories like this. Sure, it’s kind of funny, but it’s also a way to keep my Nana’s memory alive. She might have been gone for going on 17 years, but she created a legacy, and I am a part of that. It is partially my duty to her that I keep the legacy going. I take great pride in that duty.

Initial Impressions 2.0 Blog: #50 - My Nana, Middle-Aged Teen, Getting Mad Cash, etc.

1. My Nana passed away 15 years ago this week. I still miss her like she died just yesterday. Despite that, I do feel at peace knowing that I spent so much time with her while she was alive. Of course, I’d always want one more get-together but I’m blessed to have thousands of memories of her. That being said I do get sentimental on certain days. Her birthday, Christmas Eve, and her death date. I still remember it like it was yesterday. She had died late the previous night so I found out early the next morning. I remember feeling numb. I found it interesting that only moments after finding out Nana had died I spotted 3 crows on the roof of the house next door. They represent death and the afterlife so it was very appropriate.

2. My favorite Chinese food spot on Cape Cod is Sun On in Dennis. It has been for loads of years. To me, the food is always great. However, one thing I really like about them is that they remember you. The man who I think is either the owner or manager always remembers my name. In fact, I went in this week and saw him for the first time in probably a couple of years. He immediately smiled and said hello and remembered my name. Yes, that earned a little cash tip in the jar.

3. I am going into 2025 with more of a clean slate than usual. Sure I have things I am working on, or working toward, but I am also feeling like I need to leave a lot more open. This will allow things to come into my life that I might normally miss. I don’t have any books I’m working on. I don’t even have any book events scheduled. These are typically the times that unforeseen things show up. I’m cautiously excited to see where things will be at the end of 2025.

4. I had a very low-key New Year’s Eve. I definitely don’t miss those days of staying out until after midnight and drinking. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of funny stories from years past. More funny because I survived. This included a year, probably 2013 when I drove home from a favorite restaurant/bar close to 1am. My drive home included blinding snow, a curvy road, and a good buzz. Like I said I can laugh now but that easily could have been how my story ended.

5. At a small local convenience store I was gifted a huge pleasant surprise. No, not a winning lottery ticket. This store carries the 16oz 5-Hour Energy drinks that I love but rarely can find. The last time I had one was when I was up in Brattleboro, Vermont in August. I bought a few and now know I can get them whenever I want. The store itself is a bit sketchy but that just means I need to get in and out fast with my haul.

6. I was faced with a sad reality on New Year’s morning. I got up *relatively* early to go to the gym to kind of kick 2025 off right. I wasn’t up that early but I rolled into the gym at 9am. It was a good workout and the gym really wasn’t crowded. It wasn’t until I was finishing up by walking a bit on a treadmill that I noticed something. Easily 95% of the people in there were older than me, and older by a lot. I wasn’t the youngest in the gym but I had to be close. It made me realize that my ‘out late partying’ days are really over. Well, honestly they were never that crazy anyway, but even if I wanted to start being a party guy it’s way too late.

7. The good news: my blog, this blog, recently passed 450K total views. The bad news: I’ve been running this blog since 2008. We’ll keep that second part quiet. I have somewhere in the neighborhood of 800 blog posts dating back to my debut post on October 25, 2008. Did you know that you can make money on these blogs through ad clicks? There is a $100 minimum threshold for payout though. Would you like to know when the last time was that I got a payout on my blog? February 21, 2014. So going on 9 years. I’m not saying that blogging doesn’t pay off. I’m just saying that you need to have other side hustles or try out different subjects to write about. But oh man I’m getting close to that next $100 payout. I can’t wait to use it on groceries for the week.

8. From the ‘Everything Is Coming Up Milhouse’ department: I was at a grocery store paying at the self-checkout. I had cash but the total included 1 cent. The question came up, do I break a bill and get 99 cents back? Or do I use my debit card to avoid getting back that change? Well, the grocery gods were smiling on me as I looked on the ground beside me and saw a penny on the floor. No this wasn’t like finding a winning lottery ticket on the floor but I guess it was the next best thing. Maybe not the next best. More like the 100^th next best but still, exact change is a fun accomplishment.

9. After many years I finally have a really good writing station. I bought a comfy office chair, an actual desk, and a plastic floor cover so my chair doesn’t tear up the carpet. Within a few minutes of sitting down at this desk, I found myself working on several projects at once. Having a different setting for work is indeed a big key for creativity. So far it’s only been writing and editing, no recording but as of now, I am thrilled with this setup. Plus I put everything together myself so I feel a bit handy as well.

10. Here is what is likely the most appropriate shopping trip for me. I bought myself a basketball. I haven’t owned a basketball since high school and I want to start playing again as the weather gets better. It’ll be an easy way to trick myself into exercising. However, I also bought myself a pill organizer. You know the one with the days listed and their own individual containers? I keep forgetting to take my vitamins so I got that as a reminder. It’s like teenage me and middle-aged me are being melded together into one. 

Middle-Aged Teen Playset

Initial Impressions 2.0 Blog: #46 - Funny Signatures, That’s Not Toothpaste, Bad Road Work, etc.

 

1. December arrived and boy did the weather follow suit. I went out to shoot the sunset on December 1^st and was definitely under-dressed. The fall has been at least somewhat warmer than usual. I took that for granted and went out dressed like it was 55 degrees and not 35 degrees. The temperature, a howling wind, and the sun setting at 4:10pm made me immediately long for spring. Oh well, at least starting December 14^th the sunset times will start getting later. Before you know it the sun will be setting after 5pm again, well February 4^th.

2. I have begun digitizing my old Las Vegas journal to share on my blog and on Patreon. Granted these will be somewhat redacted and I’ll tell you why. In this journal there is a lot of great insight into me, full-on in my quarter-life crisis, going through a cross-country move. The problem is not sharing some deep thoughts, it is the sheer amount of girls I was interested in that I name-dropped. I was a bit surprised. I think I was really looking for whoever was going to come along and fill that void. That being said, I don’t think naming names is going to do any good. Not that they’d all be reading my blog, but I highly doubt any of them would read my thoughts from nearly 25 years ago and suddenly say ‘I never knew!’ and we live happily ever after.

First part now up on this blog.

3. Something a bit interesting to me. I noticed now that it’s December that when I turn my heat on I like it at around 64-65 degrees. I run hot so I don’t need it sweltering to be comfortable. The interesting part? In the middle of summer, I like my air conditioner to be set at 68-69 degrees. So my heat is set to a lower temperature than my A/C is. I don’t know, I thought those numbers would be flip-flopped. Actually, it would make more sense for the temperature to be equal all year round no matter the heat or A/C.

4. I feel at times like my life is an echo chamber of my own thoughts. What I mean is that as I continue on a journey of trying to become totally self-employed I sometimes find myself trapped by my own mind’s limitations. I want to use my writing and creativity skills to do something meaningful and fulfilling but it’s hard to see outside of my own little box I’ve been in for years. It can feel like the Seinfeld episode where George gets an audiobook and the narrator sounds just like him. Sometimes you need advice from a voice that’s not your own.

5. For the first time in quite a while I visited a spot called Scargo Tower in the neighboring town of Dennis. It’s a beautiful stone tower with one of the best views on Cape Cod. I shot a video of me going up the stairs to the top at sunset which was great. I was shocked when I drove up to it that there were no other people there. My excitement was short-lived as while I was shooting the video a van full of people showed up. Then after they left a young couple showed up. I decided to leave the tower to them because I was young once. I just found it funny that as soon as I thought about how great it was that nobody was there all of these people showed up. I should have just kept my mind blank.

6. A random patient at my work made me think of one of my favorite memories of my Nana. Long, loooong ago she would get Christmas cards from her trash man. It was nice, and also a way to remind customers to tip the people who take their stinky trash away for them. Anyway, the trash man signed his card and I believe his name was Doug Carp or something close. I can’t remember for sure but someone in the family remarked that his signature made it look like his name was ‘Dog Crap.’ That alone was too hilarious, but the best part was my Nana’s reaction. She laughed in only the way she could until tears were literally streaming down her face. Those were some of my favorite memories of life, someone making my Nana laugh until she cried. I miss those days.

Maybe just print your name next time?

7. On one of the mornings when I have to get up before 5 to get ready for work I nearly had a unique experience. When going to brush my teeth in my drowsy state the first thing I reached for to put on my toothbrush wasn’t the toothpaste. No, I grabbed my deodorant. I even popped the cap off of it so I was close to having a different sort of fresh mouth. However, nothing will top the time as a 5-6-year-old kid when my sister and I brushed our teeth with Preparation-H, the hemorrhoid cream. Yes, that happened. Hey, give us a break, the old tubes of Preparation-H look just like toothpaste to little kids.

8. One part laughing, one part shaking my head in sad amazement. There is a road in my town that was a part of drainage repairs over the last several months. It’s right in front of where I go to the gym. After all of the repairs were done the time came to repaint the double yellow lines that go down the middle of the road. I said ‘middle.’ In a stunning act of stupidity whoever was painting the lines had them running two-thirds over to one side. This means that you can fit a car and a half on one side of the road while on the other side, any vehicle that isn’t a Smart car is hanging over into the other lane. I have no clue how these people couldn’t figure out how to paint lines down the middle of the road but don’t worry I’m sure they are getting paid a lot to be that dumb.

9. I am a huge fan of retro commercials. The ones I grew up with from the 70s through the 90s are great. I even like ones slightly older. However, I find more recent commercials to be annoying or just plain stupid. One that I constantly hear on my Spotify app is both. Garden of Life probiotics might be the worst one yet. Talking about loving to poop is one thing, and this product helping you to poop is fine. I think it’s the way the woman in the ad gushes about just having pooped to some other woman like she’s 3 years old that just annoys me. It sounds like what a toddler would say to a parent with the child then hoping to get a toy or at least a cookie for pooping on the potty. So dumb.

10. I have found that feeling lost and feeling dehydrated are very similar. By the time you realize that you are either it is way too late and it will take a lot more work to get back to normal than it should. It’s just that you solve one easily by drinking lots of water. The other? I am still trying to figure out how to solve that one. 

Initial Impressions 2.0 #15: No Trespassing, Dogs v. Texting, Google Car Is a Rolls-Royce?, etc(5-6-2024)

1. Have you ever noticed that it is typically the houses that look abandoned, have unkempt yards, no grass, and rusted-out cars littering the property, these are the houses that have ‘No Trespassing’ signs. It’s like don’t worry I don’t want to get any diseases by stepping foot on your garbage property. How about taking the money you wasted on several No Trespassing signs and using that for grass seed, or a bucket of house paint?

2. I don’t understand how someone can work for a supermarket chain and hate all of their bosses so much that they constantly transfer to other stores in that chain. I also don’t understand how if they hate management at all of these stores why they don’t go work for another chain altogether, or get into a different industry. Unless you signed a contract with your job you are not forced to work there. It’s almost like they’d rather just be angry and spiteful because it’s easier than looking for a new job.

3. I grabbed a few energy drinks at a local dollar store because they were crazy cheap. I didn’t get a bag so I walked out and back to my car holding a few cans. On my way, an old man, likely mid-70s, joked that I couldn’t drive home if I was drinking those. I laughed and thought about offering one to him but could already hear the ambulance sirens in my mind if the man drank something like that.

4. It would have been my Nana's 100th birthday this week. She has been gone for nearly 15 years but it only took me a few minutes to come up with a dozen things that I immediately associate with her. It shows her importance in my life even as our times together fade further into memories. I do things like this because I want her memory to remain alive and as long as I live all of my grandparents will live on.

5. I was paying for groceries at self-checkout with cash. I had some extra change in the center console of my car so this was an easy way to get rid of it. In the end, I owed 1 more cent. I actually looked around the area for a random penny on the floor, but no luck. I grabbed out a dollar and wouldn’t you know it the dang machine eats it. It was a 10-minute ordeal of finding someone to open the machine to get the dollar out. The person who helped actually put a penny in so I wouldn’t have to try the dollar again. To top it off the lady overseeing the self-checkout area then decided to give me a lecture about how to properly insert money into the machines. I said as nicely as I could that I knew how to pay at self-checkout seeing as how I have done it literally hundreds of times. As I walked out I said to myself ‘this is going in the blog,’ and here it is.

6. I actually saw a cat wandering around in a neighborhood. There was nothing odd about the cat, but I feel like over the past several years, especially on Cape Cod, outdoor cats have become increasingly rare. We have a coyote problem down here. Not sure if outdoor cats are still common in other places. Or maybe they still are everywhere and I just don’t notice them.

7. So in all honestly what is more dangerous? Texting while driving? Or having a dog in your lap? They both seem equally irresponsible yet only one can get you a ticket as far as I know. Are there laws against dogs being in a driver’s lap? You wouldn’t have a child roaming around while you drive, so why let a fidgety dog jump all around you while you’re behind the wheel of a 2,000-pound weapon on wheels?

Cute but dangerous

8. While out driving I saw this beautiful Rolls-Royce. It was slowing down to turn onto the road I was on. I was momentarily shocked and confused as I saw nobody driving it. Then as it turned it all made sense, it was a European model of the vehicle so the driver’s side was opposite to here in the U.S. For a brief moment, I wondered if the Google Maps vehicle was on Cape Cod, and also a Rolls-Royce for some reason.

The next Google Maps car?

9. Every now and then I see people driving in a parking lot and using their turn signals when going up and down rows of vehicles. I think I see this about as much as I see people using their turn signals for actual turning on the road. Maybe not that much but it does seem odd to use blinkers inside a parking lot. I have seen way more examples of people not using their blinkers on the road though but I think that’s more common everywhere these days.

10. I was thrilled when I stepped on a set of bilateral scales at work and the numbers were exactly the same on each. When I first got to my current job 3 years ago I had a misaligned hip that caused the end at the time of my competitive running. I was 15 lbs heavier on my left than my right when I first used the bilateral scales. The work I’ve done to fix my hips has paid off which makes me very happy. However, I was hit with a cold slap of reality when I added the 2 scales up and it was more than I had ever weighed in my life. So yay my hips are good again, and boo it’s diet time. 

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The Power of My Nana's Life

“Ain’t it funny how time slips away.”

14 years is a long time. It’s 5,113 days. Yet in that time period from December 29, 2009, to December 29, 2023, I never took the time to actually tell this story. It was one of those ‘everybody kind of already knows’ types of things. For me though, as a way to remember, I think now is a good time to share, better late than never.

I had never dealt with death really in my life up until my Nana died. Sure, there were family members who had passed, some of them pretty close. However, there hadn’t been a member of my inner circle that had left. That’s what made my Nana’s death a true watershed moment in my life, and likely why all of this is still so clear 14 years later.

High School Graduation 1996

Looking back with 20/20 hindsight my Nana was declining pretty rapidly during the later summer into the fall of 2009. I visited her usually once a week and had noticed the changes. Her mind was still pretty sharp, but there would be moments of quiet and confusion. Nothing like what I dealt with when my Grampa started declining ten years later but still it would perk up my antennae.

I noticed Nana walking less and shuffling more. She sat in her favorite chair more and was up and about less. There were even times that I’d come to visit and she preferred to stay down the hallway watching television in another room. It was hiding in plain sight but things were turbulent in my own life at the time, so I think I registered what I saw but didn’t talk about it.

Visiting my Nana for my 32^nd birthday was the last real moment we had together. At least the way I remember things. It was early November and we sat in the living room at Boxberry Lane, the house I had spent as much time in as any other place on earth.

I can’t remember exactly what we spoke of, likely how much I hated cooking and wanted to be a writer. I am sure we talked about family, old times, and funny stories, those were the things that distracted me from my own life. Even at 32, I felt like I was behind where I should have been in life, but that’s for another day.

I vividly remember leaving in the early afternoon, before sunset. Nana was basically in her pajamas still sitting in her chair. I bent down and gave her a kiss and a gentle hug, told her I loved her, and left. I don’t remember if I saw her again before things hit the tipping point but at my age now I prefer to remember that time as the true end.

One of the last photos of Nana, she hated having her picture taken.

A few weeks later came word that she had fallen at home. Nobody had been there, well except for her cat Mittens. Nana lay on the floor for several hours before my father showed up and she was taken to the hospital. She was still with it enough to make the joke that Mittens had walked around her and stuck her butt in Nana’s face, but once she realized she wasn’t going to be fed Mittens left to go sleep in another room.

It was only a few days before Thanksgiving. I was living at home and the stress was overwhelming. In my mind, Nana would recover and be home as good as new relatively soon. There was no need to go and visit when I could just see her at her house when she got back.

On Thanksgiving, my Uncle Eric led a prayer for my Nana that she would have a swift and full recovery. It was the first holiday that she wasn’t at that I had any memory of. It was different, but once the food and stories started it felt like any other holiday on that side of the family.

I remember as the evening was dying down my Uncle Eric and Aunt Emma asked to talk to me. They had noticed what was going on with me and the stress of my home life. Out of the goodness of their hearts, they offered me their spare bedroom to move into for a while which I gladly accepted.

I didn’t leave home with anger or malice toward my family. I just knew that I needed some sort of change in my own life and had to do something about it. Little did I know moving would be the smallest change coming.

December came and my Nana didn’t return home. She seemed to be improving so it felt like it was just delaying things. Her going home would be the ultimate Christmas present for us all. A friend of the family worked at the rehab center that she was sent to so we all got routine updates on how she was doing. Then something seemingly innocuous happened that ended up being the turning point in this whole story.

They lost her teeth. Yes, it sounds like a bit from a comedy show and I wish it was, but it ended up being far too symbolic. I don’t know if my Nana took it as a sign, or if things were just headed in that direction regardless of outside circumstances. From the moment that her teeth were lost her decline sped up.

In my mind still, it was just delaying her coming home. Things would go back to normal, they always did. Despite being 32 like I said I had never dealt truly with death so I didn’t know the signs. If I had known then, in mid-December 2009, that my Nana wasn’t ever coming home I would have gone to visit her while she was still Nana.

When it became apparent to my Uncle Eric and Aunt Emma that Nana was getting close to the end they brought me and my cousin Patrick to the rehab center to see her. We had not gone and they knew this was likely the only time we’d go.

What I saw when entering her room was something that still haunts me to this day. My Nana was not my Nana anymore. She looked withered and wasted away, almost sunken into the pillows behind her head. Her eyes were closed and when we spoke to her all that we got were whispers barely audible above the room ambiance.

In that moment reality broke through my rose-tinted glasses. In that moment I finally saw that things were not going to go back to normal. When looking at my Nana’s barely recognizable face I felt the child in me wanting to scream and beg for someone to wake me from this nightmare. However, we were all a part of this and we would all have to deal with it.

Patrick and I held on to each other in stunned and horrified silence. Aunt Emma asked us to kiss Nana goodbye so we did. At that moment, as I slowly exited my Nana’s room, never to see her again, memories flooded my head. I didn’t know when the end would be, only that the end was coming. When we all got back into the truck to leave Aunt Emma said we didn’t have to go back again if we didn’t want to. She had seen our faces and knew at the very least we had said our goodbyes.

Christmas Eve 2009 was the first year of a tradition I have kept to this day. My Nana’s favorite place to be was Englewood Beach in West Yarmouth, MA. If ever I went to her house and she wasn’t there I had a pretty good feeling she was at Englewood doing her crossword puzzles and enjoying the scenery.

I knew how much she loved it there so I went to Englewood on Christmas Eve for a little while because I knew she couldn’t. I took a photo of the sunset with the naive thought that maybe I could show it to Nana someday. On Christmas Eve 2023, I went to Englewood for a little while for the 14^th straight year. I consider it my sunset date with my Nana so that even after all this time we can still spend time together on Christmas Eve.

Christmas Eve sunset at Englewood in 2019

Christmas passed and I can remember there wasn’t a conversation about Nana’s impending death. I don’t think we really talked about it, but I know it was in our thoughts. We hoped that she would at least make it through Christmas. I also hoped that she would make it past December 30^th as that was my Uncle Bob’s birthday and that would have been a terrible trauma to have to cope with every year.

Then the day came. December 29, 2009. I was sitting in a rocking chair, my Dell laptop in my lap as I was posting something irrelevant to Facebook about why I felt I could never find ‘the one.’ My Aunt Emma came in and broke the news that Nana had died. We exchanged a hug but I felt numb and hollow.

I sat back down by myself. I stared out the window trying to feel for anything to hold on to in that moment. On the sloped roof of the house next door, I watched as crows began to gather. One turned to two, three, then four. They all perched in a spot where they would be visible to me. Depending on what you believe crows have very deep spiritual meaning when it comes to death and change in general. I felt their presence, but I also felt my Nana’s.

I was sad, but not for the reasons you might think. I was sad selfishly because I knew part of my life was over. Although I had thousands of memories with my Nana I had always thought there would be one more. I was also sad because I should have been there more when she was nearing the end. It is one of the biggest regrets I’ve ever had in my life. In fact, when my Grampa was rapidly declining with Alzheimer’s in 2019 I made it a point to be there every excruciating step of the way because I hadn’t done it for my Nana. Grampa’s final weeks are a trauma that I still haven’t fully recovered from.

Nana's cat Mittens sitting in her chair the day after she had passed away.

The changes only continued. With Nana gone next to go was the house on Boxberry Lane where we had all gathered for countless holidays, cookouts, and random days of just living. The house was sold before winter turned to spring in 2010. We had one last get-together there. I still remember ordering Giardino’s pizza because she always enjoyed it, and always had coupons. We shared stories, laughed, and cried. It was truly an all-encompassing celebration of life.

I felt then, and still do now, that I didn’t allow myself to fully grieve for Nana. Partially due to wanting to be a rock for the others in the family, and partially due to fear and not wanting to accept life had changed forever. Over the ensuing months, the grief would manifest. I would have numerous vivid dreams with my Nana in them, her face, her voice, the way I remembered.

The fact that I was staying at the time with my Uncle Eric and Aunt Emma was no accident. Emma’s mother Neta who lived there too became a surrogate Nana to me. I was laid off from work for the winter which luckily(or unluckily) gave me ample time to think about what was happening. I can remember many times that I sat and had lunch with Neta and just talked. I didn’t confide feelings of grief, or look for profound answers on the meaning of life. No, I just enjoyed her company. In the years that have passed, I look at Neta as a Godsend. I know I thanked her, but hope I thanked her enough for just being who she was at such an important time in my life.

My final time inside the walls of my Nana’s house was in early February 2010 when I had to get anything of mine that had been stored in her attic. For the most part, I was by myself in the quiet of the house. My father who had lived there into his 50s had used Nana’s death as a catalyst to move to Florida. He also took her cat Mittens with him. He would return mere weeks later, Mittens though, would die at some point during the trip.

The house on Boxberry Lane years after it was sold.

The house was silent as I grabbed boxes to take to my car. I amerced myself in the quiet, hoping that there might be some sort of sign from Nana. It wasn’t to be on that day. However not too long after I had a vivid dream of me entering her house and calling out to her. Clear as day she spoke from the end of the hallway as she often did when she was alive. She said, “I’m okay, I’m alright.” I can hear it still 14 years later.

They say a person dies twice, once when their life ends, and again when their name is spoken for the last time. I have made it a point to keep my Nana alive with things like this, and remembering her on her birthday. I do the same for the numerous others that I have lost since my Nana.

I remember my Grampa, my Nina, my friend from age 7 Matt Medeiros, my friend from high school Pete Machon, our family friend I considered my aunt Brenda, and most recently my Uncle Eric. Their memories are still alive in me.

Today marks 14 years since my Aunt Emma told me my Nana had died. She, my Uncle Eric, cousin Patrick, and Neta all kept me afloat during those times, and I hope that I did the same for them in some small way.

In the years since the family on that side has splintered. With no home base on Boxberry Lane, it became harder to get together. When Uncle Eric and Aunt Emma moved back to Las Vegas the gatherings on the Setterlund side stopped altogether. If I am lucky I bump into my Uncle Bob every once in a while which is always a welcomed interaction. Sadly, the last big family get-together was in the spring of 2023 as we had a celebration of life for my Uncle Eric after he passed in January 2023.

It’s interesting, as I write this I feel like a narrator of a film. These words have my voice, but my mind is filled with scenes of joy and laughter with so many people both here and gone. That is the power of a life. Even after someone is gone they can leave you with smiles, and tears, for endless years. After 14 years that is the power of my Nana’s life.