Caroline is A-OK

Posted in Family with tags , , , on July 25, 2008 by macmystery

My sister’s baby, Caroline, had surgery Friday for a blockage in her stomach and came through with flying colors.

Brooke and I went to visit her at the hospital Saturday and got there just before they checked out. It was the first time I had seen the little girl. She’s a cutie … she’s got fingers long enough for two babies.

And to our surprise, my mom and dad were there, (I guess we should check our messages) and we got to see them, too.

I shot a man in Reno …

Posted in Music with tags , on July 7, 2008 by macmystery

Before I left home for Reno some five weeks ago, a co-worker of mine who listens to a lot of the same music I like asked me, “Are you gonna shoot a man there?”

“I might,” I said.

“Just to watch him die?” he asked.

“Why else?” I replied.

He was of course referring to the line in Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues.”

But then my co-worker went a little too far.

“You know, there’s something wrong with that song,” he said.

“What?” I asked.

“Well, if he shot a man in Reno, what the hell is he doing in prison in California? Wouldn’t he be in prison in Nevada?”

My reaction included a few choice words. He had permanently guaranteed that every time I heard that song, I wouldn’t be able to stop from asking myself the same question.

Well, wouldn’t you know it, while I was in Reno, someone took a shot at answering that question.

Caleb Cage of the Reno News & Review, a weekly paper, looked a little deeper into the story … or stories … behind the song in his story, “I shot a man in Reno,” in the July 3-9 issue.

If you like Johnny Cash at all, you should check it out. Then you should check out this 1959 performance of the song.

I’ve missed a lot

Posted in Family with tags , , on July 4, 2008 by macmystery
Dylan\'s growing up.

Dylan is growing up.

I’ve been in Reno, Nev., for five weeks now, away from my family. While I have learned a lot at the editing program and thoroughly enjoyed my stay in “The Biggest Little City in the World,” I’m ready to go home.

Early on, my trip was a lot harder on Brooke and the kids than it was on me. While I missed them, she was at home having to make things work without me with two kids and a job and all the responsibilities that go both.

But now, I’m ready to be back.

We talk on the phone semi-regularly. We exchange numerous e-mails a day. And my wife is blogging, so I get to read how her day goes. But it doesn’t make up for the things you’re supposed to be there for.

My little girl has her first two teeth and I haven’t seen them yet. She’s been sick the last couple of days and it hurts to hear her cough when I’m on the phone with them.

I’ve never been away from my little boy, Dylan, for this long. Previously, the longest time I had spent away was a little less than a week. This time, he came to the airport with me to say goodbye, but in the name of increased security, he couldn’t see me get on the plane or watch my plane take off from the terminal.

A few days after I left, I got a phone call from my wife at an unscheduled time. The realization had hit Dylan that Daddy was a long way away, and he was worried I wouldn’t be coming back and I had to calm a crying child from more than 2,000 miles away.

About two weeks ago he called me to ask how long would it be before I came home. “How many days?” he asked. “Twenty-one,” I answered.

But for the most part, he’s taken it well. We talk on the phone and he ends every conversation with, “Be careful coming home,” which is his way of saying good night, just like he does each night when I’m at work.

But two days ago my wife threw me a curve. As it is, I think she sends me e-mails and writes blog posts with one specific goal, to see if she can make me cry. And sometimes she does. But this was new.

I opened my e-mail inbox and there was a surprise for me: an e-mail from an address with my son’s name attached to it, rather than my wife’s. I opened it, and this is what it said:

dear daddyy,
i hope you are having fun in nevada. i am haviing fun with just my mommy aand eella.
love
dylan
My son, not yet 5, is sending me e-mails, with mom’s help I’m sure. But still …
It’s time to go home. I’m missing too much.