This has been our final weekend in Ohio. We spent the better part of it up in the Akron/Canton area visiting my family and other loved ones. Needless to say, insanity erupted. It went something like this:
Part 1: Lil' Joe's Bum Wing
My dear mother graciously decided to have a shindig over at her house Friday, so that all the relatives could wish us well and send us on our way. It was a delicious feast and a great time. Mom even hauled in some of my favorite desserts for the occassion (German chocolate cake and Carrot cake - delish). It was wonderful to see the grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, sisters... even my dad and his special lady made an appearance.
Then little Joe decided to take a walk outside.
A little background: my Uncle Joe and Aunt Suzette have children the way other folks acquire credit cards... i.e., it just keeps happening for them. At last count, they're hoping for #6. While little Joe is their middle child, he's still as yet just a tyke (4 yrs old maybe? Something like that). Well, he decided to make his way outside with his younger brother, Caleb, to do whatever little boys do in their Aunt Becky's yard.
A little more background: my mother's next-door neighbors are truly ridiculous people. Living beside them has been an absolute chamber of horrors from the beginning. In a nutshell, they've given my poor mom nonstop trouble, including hurled rocks at her bay windows and even a tractor rammed into the side of her house... all perpetrated by the neighbor's son. Also, they have an ill-tempered Rottweiler.
You can probably begin to see where this is heading.
Scene 1, quiet on the set. Rolling... Cue little Joe... cue Rottweiler... action.
In the end, a terrified Joe was forced to run, screaming, from this unrestrained helldog, which resulted in his falling, breaking his left arm. Uncle Joe and Aunt Sue rushed him to the hospital, only to wait forever and a day... to finally be told that there was nothing the hospital could do for little Joe, but he has an appointment with a bone surgeon next week. Until then, he's keeping the arm in a splint. In the meantime, the police have been notified, and, since Rottweilers are, by law, supposed to be restrained and/or supervised at all times, my Uncle and Aunt have filed a report and are considering filing a civil suit against Mom's neighbors.
Other than that, the party was a lot of fun.
...
Part 2: Jeremy Who?
One of our primary objectives in our Canton visit was to attend the wedding of an old friend and collegue, Monica Renier (now Monica Erikson) Saturday afternoon. Despite the fact that it's been years since I've seen or spoken with Monica, she remains one of my favorite people in the world. A wonderful lady with a truly sweet disposition. Nothing at all like a Rottweiler.
Unfortunately, we forgot Monica's invitation back in Columbus. On it was some very pertinent information, such as the name of the church at which the blessed nuptials would be held.
Well, I had really no choice but to go through the phone book, looking for others who might know Monica and might also be attending the wedding. Call after call... no luck... wrong numbers, changed numbers, disconnected numbers... finally, in desperation, at 10:00 PM I found myself calling Patty Finefrock, who'd worked with me an Monica back in 2000 for a few brief months.
JER: Hello, is this Patty?
PATTY: ...Yes...
JER: Patty Finefrock!?!?!
PATTY: Eh... yes... who's...?
JER: Patty, hi! It's Jeremy Bear!
PATTY: Who?
JER: Jeremy Bear! Remember me? We used to work together.
PATTY: No.
JER: Patty, you came to my wedding! You really don't remember?
PATTY: ...Hhh... I don't know... Wait, Jeremy what?
In the end, she finally did remember me. Unfortunately, she hadn't been invited, which was a bit embarrassing. She did, however, give me a number to call, which she said might even be Monica's number. In the morning, I gave the number a try. A groggy voice answered.
JER: Hi, is this where Monica Renier lives?
GROGGY VOICE: ...Yeah... but, she's not here. She's at her parents' house.
JER: Oh. Look, sorry for calling so early.
GROGGY VOICE: ...It's okay, I was more or less up anyhow... what do you need?
JER: Well, Monica's getty married today, right?
GROGGY VOICE: Yes she is.
JER: I'm a friend of hers from Columbus and I was going to attend the wedding and I forgot the information. Do you know what church it's at and what time?
GROGGY VOICE: Yeah, it's at 2:00 this afternoon. It's at St. Barbara's Catholic Church on Lincoln Way in Massilon.
JER: Okay, could you repeat that? I'm writing all this down.
GROGGY VOICE: 2:00. St. Barbara's Catholic Church.
JER: And that's on Lincoln Way?
GROGGY VOICE: Yup.
JER: Listen, thanks a lot. I really appreciate this. I've been calling all over.
GROGGY VOICE: No problem.
JER: By the way, who am I talking to?
GROGGY VOICE: I'm the groom.
---
At least I got the info. And it really was a beautiful wedding.
...
Part 3: Smelling Salts for Bill
After getting off the phone with Josh, Carey and I went to breakfast with my mom and her husband, Bill. Sort of a last last last hoorah with Mom. Breakfast was nice and my mom even paid. Since we were staying at Dad's house, they drove us back afterward. We pulled into the drive and I said, "well, Bill, thanks a lot. I hope we see you again soon." I shook his hand, and he nodded and I couldn't help but notice that he looked like death. Carey also said her goodbyes to Bill and Bill replied. "I'm going to faint."
Immediately, Bill hopped in the backseat of his SUV and lay on his back, fighting for consciousness. We got him some ice (still not sure why), as he flickered in and out. Mom was a bit concerned.
So we said some quick goodbyes to Mom and she carted old Bill away into uncertainty, leaving Carey and I hoping that we hadn't lost yet another relative to the Emergency Room this weekend.
In the end, he insists it was something he ate. When we called later in the day to check on his condition, he was outside waxing the car. God bless you, Bill.
...
Part 4: Why I Hate Buddy
Monica's wedding was absolutely terrific. Beautiful ceremony, beautiful reception, tasteful decor, delicious cuisine... even got to hang out with some old friends from years gone by. Specifically, Kristie Bryant and Jennifer Barnby (two talented designers from the old advertising days in Canton). After a splendid dinner, a couple drinks, and a spin or two on the dance floor, Carey and I headed back to Dad's.
As it turns out, Dad is dog-watching for a neighbor this weekend, much to the delight of his own dog, Skip. Buddy, the neighbor's dog, is a wiley little fellow and obviously enjoys a good romp. Anyhow, when Carey and I arrived at Dad's, he was out on a date, but Skip and Buddy were there to greet us.
Now, I had a rather difficult deadline to meet: 80 coloring book page pencils due Monday. I still had a long way to go, so... tired, stressed and nearly tipsy, I began to draw draw draw at Dad's.
Then Buddy urinated all over the living room.
Man, I'm not a dog person. I don't understand 'em and I usually avoid them. I haven't the faintest about what to do in these situations. Should I yell at the dog? Beat him? Hug him? Clamp his genitals? Let the matter rest? I decided the best course of action was to let him outside.
This turned out to be the very worst course of action. Surely-do, Buddy took off running for parts unknown.
Of course, Dad pulls in the drive about 5 minutes later and it was only a few moments before Dad, Carey and I were combing the streets for our peeing fugitive. After much driving, calling, yelling (in every tone of voice imaginable... ranging from "you're in big trouble, mister" all the way down to "please, Buddy, come back home to micturate on us again... we love it and we love you!"), Carey and I finally tracked him down, dragged him into the car and locked him at Dad's house. It was a maddening affair, especially considered my already frenzied state. Oh, I could have just killed that mongrel.
But, Buddy is now back safe and sound. I only hope he was able to greet his owner upon his owner's return in the same oh-so-poignant way that he greeted Carey and I.
...
Part 5: Just call me Wile E. Coyote
So, we headed back to Hilliard, just in time for Church. Church was lovely, and Pastor Tom Bennardo was even kind enough to pray for our journey out west. T-minus 1.5 days until takeoff.
We headed back home to let the final tornado of cleaning, calling, reserving, and general squaring away commence. Then, I logged on to the internet to find... I couldn't log on to the internet. Roadrunner had cut off our access 3 days earlier than we requested.
May seem like a little thing, but I depend on my web access for email, transferring work files, phone directories, maps, directions, bank balances... the works (not to mention updating this website and blogger). Probably, most important of all, my ability to set up internet access in Long Beach was taken away. A phone call confirmed it: "we're sorry, sir, it was shut off at the pole. There's nothing we can do."
It's a good thing I don't believe in omens. That's not to say, however, that ominous matters don't make me nervous.
...
So, that was the final weekend in Ohio. Thanks to Part 5, it'll be awhile before I can post this. Details of the actual journey itself soon to follow.
Part 1: Lil' Joe's Bum Wing
My dear mother graciously decided to have a shindig over at her house Friday, so that all the relatives could wish us well and send us on our way. It was a delicious feast and a great time. Mom even hauled in some of my favorite desserts for the occassion (German chocolate cake and Carrot cake - delish). It was wonderful to see the grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, sisters... even my dad and his special lady made an appearance.
Then little Joe decided to take a walk outside.
A little background: my Uncle Joe and Aunt Suzette have children the way other folks acquire credit cards... i.e., it just keeps happening for them. At last count, they're hoping for #6. While little Joe is their middle child, he's still as yet just a tyke (4 yrs old maybe? Something like that). Well, he decided to make his way outside with his younger brother, Caleb, to do whatever little boys do in their Aunt Becky's yard.
A little more background: my mother's next-door neighbors are truly ridiculous people. Living beside them has been an absolute chamber of horrors from the beginning. In a nutshell, they've given my poor mom nonstop trouble, including hurled rocks at her bay windows and even a tractor rammed into the side of her house... all perpetrated by the neighbor's son. Also, they have an ill-tempered Rottweiler.
You can probably begin to see where this is heading.
Scene 1, quiet on the set. Rolling... Cue little Joe... cue Rottweiler... action.
In the end, a terrified Joe was forced to run, screaming, from this unrestrained helldog, which resulted in his falling, breaking his left arm. Uncle Joe and Aunt Sue rushed him to the hospital, only to wait forever and a day... to finally be told that there was nothing the hospital could do for little Joe, but he has an appointment with a bone surgeon next week. Until then, he's keeping the arm in a splint. In the meantime, the police have been notified, and, since Rottweilers are, by law, supposed to be restrained and/or supervised at all times, my Uncle and Aunt have filed a report and are considering filing a civil suit against Mom's neighbors.
Other than that, the party was a lot of fun.
...
Part 2: Jeremy Who?
One of our primary objectives in our Canton visit was to attend the wedding of an old friend and collegue, Monica Renier (now Monica Erikson) Saturday afternoon. Despite the fact that it's been years since I've seen or spoken with Monica, she remains one of my favorite people in the world. A wonderful lady with a truly sweet disposition. Nothing at all like a Rottweiler.
Unfortunately, we forgot Monica's invitation back in Columbus. On it was some very pertinent information, such as the name of the church at which the blessed nuptials would be held.
Well, I had really no choice but to go through the phone book, looking for others who might know Monica and might also be attending the wedding. Call after call... no luck... wrong numbers, changed numbers, disconnected numbers... finally, in desperation, at 10:00 PM I found myself calling Patty Finefrock, who'd worked with me an Monica back in 2000 for a few brief months.
JER: Hello, is this Patty?
PATTY: ...Yes...
JER: Patty Finefrock!?!?!
PATTY: Eh... yes... who's...?
JER: Patty, hi! It's Jeremy Bear!
PATTY: Who?
JER: Jeremy Bear! Remember me? We used to work together.
PATTY: No.
JER: Patty, you came to my wedding! You really don't remember?
PATTY: ...Hhh... I don't know... Wait, Jeremy what?
In the end, she finally did remember me. Unfortunately, she hadn't been invited, which was a bit embarrassing. She did, however, give me a number to call, which she said might even be Monica's number. In the morning, I gave the number a try. A groggy voice answered.
JER: Hi, is this where Monica Renier lives?
GROGGY VOICE: ...Yeah... but, she's not here. She's at her parents' house.
JER: Oh. Look, sorry for calling so early.
GROGGY VOICE: ...It's okay, I was more or less up anyhow... what do you need?
JER: Well, Monica's getty married today, right?
GROGGY VOICE: Yes she is.
JER: I'm a friend of hers from Columbus and I was going to attend the wedding and I forgot the information. Do you know what church it's at and what time?
GROGGY VOICE: Yeah, it's at 2:00 this afternoon. It's at St. Barbara's Catholic Church on Lincoln Way in Massilon.
JER: Okay, could you repeat that? I'm writing all this down.
GROGGY VOICE: 2:00. St. Barbara's Catholic Church.
JER: And that's on Lincoln Way?
GROGGY VOICE: Yup.
JER: Listen, thanks a lot. I really appreciate this. I've been calling all over.
GROGGY VOICE: No problem.
JER: By the way, who am I talking to?
GROGGY VOICE: I'm the groom.
---
At least I got the info. And it really was a beautiful wedding.
...
Part 3: Smelling Salts for Bill
After getting off the phone with Josh, Carey and I went to breakfast with my mom and her husband, Bill. Sort of a last last last hoorah with Mom. Breakfast was nice and my mom even paid. Since we were staying at Dad's house, they drove us back afterward. We pulled into the drive and I said, "well, Bill, thanks a lot. I hope we see you again soon." I shook his hand, and he nodded and I couldn't help but notice that he looked like death. Carey also said her goodbyes to Bill and Bill replied. "I'm going to faint."
Immediately, Bill hopped in the backseat of his SUV and lay on his back, fighting for consciousness. We got him some ice (still not sure why), as he flickered in and out. Mom was a bit concerned.
So we said some quick goodbyes to Mom and she carted old Bill away into uncertainty, leaving Carey and I hoping that we hadn't lost yet another relative to the Emergency Room this weekend.
In the end, he insists it was something he ate. When we called later in the day to check on his condition, he was outside waxing the car. God bless you, Bill.
...
Part 4: Why I Hate Buddy
Monica's wedding was absolutely terrific. Beautiful ceremony, beautiful reception, tasteful decor, delicious cuisine... even got to hang out with some old friends from years gone by. Specifically, Kristie Bryant and Jennifer Barnby (two talented designers from the old advertising days in Canton). After a splendid dinner, a couple drinks, and a spin or two on the dance floor, Carey and I headed back to Dad's.
As it turns out, Dad is dog-watching for a neighbor this weekend, much to the delight of his own dog, Skip. Buddy, the neighbor's dog, is a wiley little fellow and obviously enjoys a good romp. Anyhow, when Carey and I arrived at Dad's, he was out on a date, but Skip and Buddy were there to greet us.
Now, I had a rather difficult deadline to meet: 80 coloring book page pencils due Monday. I still had a long way to go, so... tired, stressed and nearly tipsy, I began to draw draw draw at Dad's.
Then Buddy urinated all over the living room.
Man, I'm not a dog person. I don't understand 'em and I usually avoid them. I haven't the faintest about what to do in these situations. Should I yell at the dog? Beat him? Hug him? Clamp his genitals? Let the matter rest? I decided the best course of action was to let him outside.
This turned out to be the very worst course of action. Surely-do, Buddy took off running for parts unknown.
Of course, Dad pulls in the drive about 5 minutes later and it was only a few moments before Dad, Carey and I were combing the streets for our peeing fugitive. After much driving, calling, yelling (in every tone of voice imaginable... ranging from "you're in big trouble, mister" all the way down to "please, Buddy, come back home to micturate on us again... we love it and we love you!"), Carey and I finally tracked him down, dragged him into the car and locked him at Dad's house. It was a maddening affair, especially considered my already frenzied state. Oh, I could have just killed that mongrel.
But, Buddy is now back safe and sound. I only hope he was able to greet his owner upon his owner's return in the same oh-so-poignant way that he greeted Carey and I.
...
Part 5: Just call me Wile E. Coyote
So, we headed back to Hilliard, just in time for Church. Church was lovely, and Pastor Tom Bennardo was even kind enough to pray for our journey out west. T-minus 1.5 days until takeoff.
We headed back home to let the final tornado of cleaning, calling, reserving, and general squaring away commence. Then, I logged on to the internet to find... I couldn't log on to the internet. Roadrunner had cut off our access 3 days earlier than we requested.
May seem like a little thing, but I depend on my web access for email, transferring work files, phone directories, maps, directions, bank balances... the works (not to mention updating this website and blogger). Probably, most important of all, my ability to set up internet access in Long Beach was taken away. A phone call confirmed it: "we're sorry, sir, it was shut off at the pole. There's nothing we can do."
It's a good thing I don't believe in omens. That's not to say, however, that ominous matters don't make me nervous.
...
So, that was the final weekend in Ohio. Thanks to Part 5, it'll be awhile before I can post this. Details of the actual journey itself soon to follow.
posted by Jeremy Bear at
10:33 PM
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