For Mom

As I mentioned the other day, in my first post about Mom's passing, I thought I'd use it as a starter for her eulogy.

I did.

Below is my draft.

This is a day we all knew would come.  Death, of course, is inevitable.  And in Mom’s case, though she was a fighter, she was medically fragile.  CHF, COPD, Pulmonary HTN, Macular Degeneration and more wore her down over time.  The last few times we saw her, several of us commented on how tired she looked.  

The end of life, by it’s nature, tends to be sad for those of us left behind.  But, it doesn’t have to be.  I remember, several years ago at the funeral for my Aunt Pearl, the priest said - 

“Some deaths are a tragedy, some deaths are a blessing.  And Pearl’s is a blessing.” 

He was referring to the way cancer ravaged her, how her physical pain was over now and she was finally at peace.  That always stuck with me.  But I’m not here today to get all philosophical with you.  I think most of you know me well enough to know that’s not my strong suit.  

Instead, I’d like to tell you about the time Mom took me to Driver’s Ed class.  She drove.  I was only 15 and on a learner’s permit, she couldn’t possibly trust me with something so important as to drive the mile and a half to Central High School for my class.  My Driver’s Ed class.  So I could learn how to drive.  About 150 yards out of our driveway, Mom drove into a wheat field.  On the way to my Driver’s Ed class.  No damage done to the car or us, she drove back onto the road and finished driving me to school.  For my Driver’s Ed class.  

We were all close to Mom, of course.  In fact, John was so close to Mom, on his first day of kindergarten, when Mom walked him to school, he followed her back home.  He’d rather hang out with Mom, than go to school.  

He’d definitely have had better snacks.

Mom was an outstanding cook.  And she made so many things that are ingrained into all of our recipe rotations.  Potato Salad, Cowboy Dish, my personal favorite - Pinwheels.  Mom didn’t pay much attention to the healthy cooking movement.  If gravy was currency, Mom would be Bill Gates.  But good Lord it tasted great. 

After Dad died, Teri and Penny took many road trips with Mom.  Branson, MO was a favorite place, and they went out to southern California to find where Dad’s parents ranch used to be.  Somehow, they managed to get Mom on airplanes.  She hated to fly.  

She was a nervous traveler in any mode.  Any family member that ever drove Mom anywhere will tell you that, despite vision that prevented her from seeing someone standing 2 feet in front of her clearly enough to identify them, she still “saw” cars, deer, potholes, tractors, children, police cars, you name the threat and she “saw” it and warned you of it.  Most of us learned to apply the phrase Dad used many times...

“Do you want to drive?”

...and that, with a chuckle, would end her attempts at helping us drive.  At least, temporarily.

As far back as I can remember, though I don’t know why, I’ve been told I was Mom’s favorite.  I mean, I don’t blame her.  If I was Mom, I’d make me her favorite too.  But as I grew into the role and all it entailed, I got to spend a lot of quality time with her over the years. 

And we’d talk often about the old days and how much fun we all had growing up.  

And the talk always turned to how much she missed Dad.

“I miss him everyday.” she’d say.  “He was a good old guy.” she’d say.

As Kathi and I were driving home from the hospital in Rockford about 1:00 Monday morning, we talked about Mom.  I really wasn’t too sad, like I said, she was tired.  And to be honest, I’d been preparing myself for that drive home from the hospital for years, just didn’t know which hospital or when it would happen.  I was, however, worried that Mom passing away on Christmas, a day that’s supposed to be about the joy of the season,  would create heartache for some of us.  

Then Kathi said something, that really put the day’s events in perspective for me.  She pointed out that Mom had spent the last two days with almost all of her 16 grandkids and 28 great-grandkids, something she adored doing.  And then, she got to spend Christmas night with Dad.  After 17 years, they were together again.  What better gift could Mom ask for?

We should all be so lucky.  

I hope she likes it.  I think she will.

Merry Christmas El, it's not what we originally gave you for Christmas, but this is now more appropriate than a gift certificate to your local casino.

I Love You.

Ellie and Andy

I've started and stopped this post about 5 times... and this one may not see the light of day either...

I sat down to work on my eulogy for Mom.  It's important to me that I do this.  I've gained a certain amount of experience speaking in front of crowds about intensely emotional, personal things over the last 6 and a half years, I've become pretty decent at it, and it's something I want to give to her.

Lord knows she's given plenty to me.

Typically when I speak there's a PowerPoint running behind me, I don't believe I'll have that advantage this time, but that's OK.

I would like to share a couple photos with the class here though.  For example, this one...

...is Andy and Ellie in Texas, right about the time they got married in November 1942.

Dashing, no?

I can't figure out who Dad was trying to be with that pose.  It's certainly pre-Cap'n Morgan so it's got to be a movie star of the era.  They were a good looking couple, Dad in his class "A", Mom showing a little leg.

My two sisters were born in the post war 40's (sorry, but you can still tell your grandkids you're 39, they won't read this) and my brother (1951) and I (1958) in the fabulous 50's.  As the baby of the family, I was, without doubt, the favorite.  They worked out all the kinks with the other three, so by the time I came along, well, you know.

Mom caught a lot of grief from my sisters and brother about that too, and she denied it until much later in life, when she finally admitted that, yes, I was her favorite.

Just kidding, she never "really" admitted that.  But she stopped denying it, so... potato/potatoe it's still a win for me.

Well then.

Since my stated purpose was to work on the eulogy, and I haven't gotten any closer to finishing that with this hot mess...

Let me close by adding Mom and Dad's 50th anniversary picture...

And finally to leave you with this little pearl of wisdom -

Kids, talk to your parents.  Ask them about their history, the family's history.  Take notes.  Because one day, your kids will want to know and you'll want to tell them.

Grandma Ellie

My Mom passed away last night.

Merry Christmas, huh?

Actually, upon further review, this was the best Christmas she could've had.

Allow me to explain...

Eleanor Marie (Rakow) Mains, was born in the house my grandparents lived in, in 1922.  The youngest of her family, she often talked about how my grandmother spoiled her and sheltered her.  That kind of set the precedent as it turns out, because after she and Dad married in 1942, he doted on her.  My Dad was the most patient person I've ever known.  A trait I wish I'd gotten more of. But he always took good care of Mom.  She was, shall we say, demanding at times.

And I don't say that as a way to run her down.  Mom had certain expectations and if they weren't met, you heard about it.  She was opinionated, stubborn and quick to anger.. But she was also quick to forgive and forget; loving and protective of those she cared about.

She often found herself the butt of jokes, a position she never feared.  Mom rarely drove.  She had a driver's license for probably 50 years but Dad drove everywhere.  The last time she drove, was when I was 15 and, ironically, she was taking me to school for a Driver's Ed class.

We ended up in a wheat field...

She just drove off the road...

We weren't hurt, she drove back onto the road and finished the trip, but that was the last time she drove.  That never stopped her from being a first rate back seat (front seat actually) driver.

Nor did failing eyesight.

By the time she reached her late 70's her macular degeneration had gotten the best of her.  She would often ask us who someone was, she wasn't able to clearly see their face.  But rolling down the road at 55 miles per hour she could "see" a car at a crossroad or coming out of a driveway and warn you

"Watch that car up there!"

We all applied the question Dad used many times, knowing the answer as he did.

"Do you want to drive?"

She'd laugh and say

"No, I don't want to end up in the wheat field again"

And we'd continue on our way.

Mom was an excellent cook, if you were willing to suspend the whole "healthy eating" movement of the last 40 years.  Everything Mom made, came with homemade gravy.

And it raised your cholesterol level when you looked at it.

And it was awesome.

There are so many things that she made, most of which have been passed down to family members, that it's not an easy task to choose, but to me, if the streets of heaven are lined with anything, it's vendors giving away Mom's pinwheels.  Pinwheels, for the uninitiated, are made from Bisquick and leftover roast.  And they are nirvana in a meal.  That was actually about the only way I ate vegetables when I was a kid, they were ground up so finely in the pinwheel mixture, I didn't care that I ate pieces of carrot and celery.

When Dad passed away in 1995, Mom continued to live in the little apartment they shared.  Even as her health slowly deteriorated, she stayed there, for 15 years, until she finally reached the point where she couldn't live alone anymore.  Mom, my sisters, brother and I looked at several assisted living facilities as possible new "homes" for her.  But none seemed right.  So sister number 2 decided Mom should move in with her up in northern Wisconsin.

My Mother the Cheesehead.

My sister had no medical experience whatsoever and she felt a little intimidated, I think, at least at the start.  But she did a great job with Mom and they adored their time together.  My sister often told me she felt bad, the whole time Mom was down here the burden of her healthcare issues; doctor appointments, hospital stays, runs to the pharmacy, well being checks, etc. fell on one of us and she was unable to help.  This, she felt, was her chance to help in Mom's care.  Mom flourished under my sister's care.  And I believe she did far better up there than she would have in any assisted living facility.

But, as Christmase Eve turned into Christmas Day and all the different family parties ended, it came time for Mom to go back to the hotel where they stayed during their visit.

Without going into details, Mom stopped breathing during the car ride.  The granddaughter that was driving her is an experienced EMT and did everything right, but Mom had had enough.

She was pronounced dead at the hospital.

So for her last Christmas, she was able to see most of the 16 grandkids and 28 great-grandkids and that was always her favorite part of coming home to Illinois.

But the best part, I think, for Mom was that finally after 17 years, she got to see Dad again.

What better Christmas gift could she ask for?

Here's Mom with one of her grandkids, pretty sure the date is accurate.

Rest easy Ellie, I love you and we'll miss you.

Brain cramps

I probably suffer at least as many of these, if not more, than anyone.  So it shouldn't come as a surprise to me that I missed a post.

And yet, somehow, I'm surprised I missed one until this morning.

As I was reviewing some of the stuff I've put up here recently, I noticed this one down below the Teaser Alert I mentioned one more tour related post.

Oops.

Uhhhh ya see, it's like this...

I got nuthin.

So here goes.

The big mystery was a video that the good folks (Thanks Sarah, you rock!) at Advocate Good Sam's PR department shot as a follow up to our tour visit, the work of local 3234 with the Cnacer Care Center Wig Boutique and also as part of the October Cancer Awareness programs.

I saw a preview of it, but couldn't pre-empt the official release.

You may recall, I sometimes (often times?) have issues with secrets so my natural inclination is to "forget" about it or else I turn in to a six foot tall 10 year-old.

Trust me THAT isn't pretty.

And so, with no further fanfare (we need to use that word more often, IMHO) here you have it...

Once again, kudos to Sarah Scoggins at AGSH PR for the excellent camera work and editing.  She made me look good and that isn't easy to do.

Pink Heals!

Peace

Coming out of the closet... So to speak.

No, not that closet.  Got your attention though, didn't it?

I've decided I don't want to hide behind the anonymity of the internetz anymore.  Well, at least not as much as I did.

As you may or may not know, I'm rather active on Twitter (@50isthenew50) and there's been some drama on my timeline lately among people I follow.  As I watched this Jr. High pissing contest unfold, full of the name-calling etc. and I kind of came to the realization that, if someone, for whatever reason, REALLY wanted to find out who I am IRL, they could do it.

I've watched people "out" trolls on both ends of the political spectrum, posting names, addresses, photos, kids names, all sorts of stuff.  It's one of the reasons I don't engage in that.  And not to come off as holier-than-thou, I just don't enjoy that kind of thing.

It's not my personality type.

I'm a lover, not a fighter... or something...

Blogger has been asking me for some time if I wanted to switch my profile over to a more public G+ profile and I've resisted it for several months.  But I finally decided I've got nothing to hide, well not TOO much, and just thought I might be able to accomplish more this way.

So now, on to my next conundrum (a word that needs to get dusted off from time to time)...

I'm active in several non-profit organizations.  Non-profit organizations that, by nature of their existence must remain, if not apolitical, at least non-partisan, or they lose their non-profit status.  And I don't say that to blow my own horn, it's just what it is.

So far, so good, right?

Here's the thing.

Me, personally?  I'm neither apolitical nor (or?) non-partisan.

Far from it.  In fact, the charming picture of the adorable little protester to the left, is from one of the marches on the Wisconsin state Capital building.  And as we speak, I'm making plans to go to Freeport, IL this Friday to protest Bain Capital and their closing the Sensata plant out there, shipping 170 jobs to China.

I'm a proud union member, IAFF local 3234, and will do what I can as an individual to make sure my opinions are out there (some would say WAY out there) and to protect the rights of other individuals to take part in the processes that make our country, our country.

Even when I don't agree with them.

It's what we do.

Or should do.

Pink Heals.

Peace.

Phil-A-Palooza

Well this didn't work at all like I had planned...

I had all sorts of good intentions to keep this thing rolling on a regular basis after coming home from the tour.  Thought sure getting in the routine of writing every day while out on the road would get me in the mindset of doing it here too.

I suppose, technically, I could still post regularly with this start.  Assuming by "regular" I mean once every three weeks...

Sigh.

So, off to the matter at hand.

This guy 

retired last week.  And as much as we'll all miss him,

we're all happy for him.

I knew this was coming, it was just a matter of time.  He talked about it last year.  And I certainly wasn't prepared for it then, I'm not completely convinced I'm prepared for it now.  

But it's not my call to make.  

Laz is happy with his decision, has been talking about what he's going to do for several weeks now, and ultimately, if he's happy, I'm happy.

So, in honor of his last day after serving our community for 31 years part time and full time, we all made sure he was kind of a big deal last Thursday...

The day started with a flag raising ceremony at our station. The honor Guard came out and raised a ceremonial flag in his honor.  All the Chief's were present, in their Class "A" uniforms.  It was nice.  After that, we planned "Lunch with Laz" where we provided the food and all the on duty companies, and anybody off-duty, or retired guys, or friends, family or what have you, could come by and join us for an open house type lunch from 11-1.  Fortunately the taxpayers co-operated and we didn't have any 9-1-1 calls.

We left to go down to Station 2, our headquarters, a little after 2.  The Chief wanted to do an exit interview with him and after that, from 3-5 there was a nice cake and coffee reception for him at #2.  His kids and grandkids came by, we showed embarrassing pictures and all had some laughs at his expense.  As his last official act, Laz got to give our new guy "The Wolf" his badge, since he completed his probation.

From there, we went back to our station where, along with his family and some select friends, we had an awesome dinner with smoked turkey and a giant pan of home-made lasagna.  It was just before dinner that we got his last calls out of the way, and his last EMS call was truly memorable...

"Engine 3, Medic 3 for the naked man in the intersection..." 

Sure enough, when we got there we saw a naked guy sitting on the back seat of a squad car.  The medics transported him and as we chatted with the cops on the scene we got dispatched for his final fire call, smell of something burning in a condo building. It was nothing though, very anti-climactic, on the heels of the naked guy call.

We went back and enjoyed dinner, and after the families left, we made a stop at dispatch so he could bid them farewell and then stopped at the hospital to tell a doc he liked good-bye.  We got back into quarters and sat at the kitchen table, the five of us, talking til 11:15, about 3 hours past his normal bed-time.  

His last shift concluded in the morning with the finish of the flag ceremony.  The Honor Guard lowered and folded the flag raised the previous morning and the Chief presented it to Laz, with his thanks.  

Finally, he was escorted to the village border and returned to the wild. 

Pretty emotional day for a few of us.  

For the last several years Laz took to admonishing the new guys "I'm not turning my Fire Department over to a bunch of a**holes" so my friend, I say to you now, you haven't.  We'll take good care of it.

You take good care of you.

Congratulations on 31 years, I hope your retirement lasts twice as long.  

Love ya!

and btw, Pink still Heals!

Peace

Day whatever it is (I don't want to turn this into "NIghtline")

Here we are... 

I've been home for almost a week now, trying to settle back into the non-road routine.  I still miss being on tour, still miss being with those guys, but it's good to be back home.  I miss the knuckleheads (an ABSOLUTE term of endearment) at work (most of them were off Wednesday when I went back, are they trying to tell me something?) and can't wait to see them all again.  

I wanted to go back out (still do) and I was looking at the first week or 10 days of October, but my real-life calendar wouldn't allow it.  Work commitments, home commitments and the like.  

Stuff happens.

I was really looking forward to it too, SoCal to PHX had a nice vibe to it, travel-wise.  Dave also talked about trying to put together a "town hall meeting" tour this winter.  Traveling across the south for 6 or 8 weeks meeting with small groups of people to explain what we want to accomplish with this movement.  He said he's not sure if he'll be up for going back on the road like that in between this year's tour and next year's.  It's quite a grind, especially for him being out from start to finish.  I want to be a part of that, in addition to going on tour next year and trying to start a chapter here.  I think the experience of going out and sitting in on, and speaking to, groups like that would be invaluable for me.

As people have asked me about my experience on tour, I always tell them the Baltic, SD story.  The one about the couple on the motorcycle.  Here now, to enhance that story, thanks to my guy Mike from FL, is a picture of the lady with the sign.  It's a little blurry and a tad distorted due to raindrops on the window, but you can see and read the sign pretty well...

Cool, no?

***Teaser Alert***

I have one more (at least one more) tour related post coming up here, hopefully tomorrow, but as soon as I get the ok.  I just got a sneak peak of it a little bit ago and it turned out really nice.  Waiting for final approval from the authority types, but once they ok it, I'll write a little something and post a link.  

I think regular readers (both of you) will enjoy it.  

Off to do real life type stuff for now, as always...

Pink Heals!

Peace

Day 16 PPS (or is it PSS) (I forget...)

I was all set to sit down and fire out a September 11th post, I really was.  I'm not usually one to keep bringing it up but for some reason, today, it felt right for me to comment about it.  Maybe to kind of swing my posts back to a more political type rambling instead of the pink updates journal it's been while I was on tour.

That changed when I got home and checked the mail.

There was an envelope, addressed to me, with a return address from McLaughlin, SD.  As you may recall (geez I hope you recall, I just wrote about it a week ago) that was a small town in northwestern South Dakota that we visited on tour.  The town where John rode the bull.  Yeah, that town.  

I opened the envelope and found a copy of the local newspaper with a huge picture of us on the front page and three more full color pages of us inside.  It included a post-it note saying-

"Thanks for making the stop here memorable for everyone."

And it was signed by (I think) the fire chief's wife.

Holy crap.

What an awesome town.  

I fired off my second ever Letter to the Editor and pasted it below.  I redacted my own name only

Editor

Corson/Sioux County News-Messenger

P.O. Box 788

McLaughlin, South Dakota 57642

September 11, 2012

To the Editor,

I’ve addressed this to the “Editor” and while that may be technically correct, it’s not accurate.  This letter is more to the amazing people of McLaughlin, South Dakota.

Thank You.

My name is ********** and I was one of the drivers that pulled in to your town on September 3rd.  The reception we got, from the very beginning at Dallas’ farm through the escort out of town, was nothing short of remarkable.  We talked about it for days after.  

I grew up in a small (population 500 or so) rural town in northern Illinois, surrounded by cornfields.  I’m familiar with the type of folks that live in and around a town like McLaughlin, and while I wasn’t surprised at the warm reception we got from you, it was, without doubt, one of the high points of my time on tour.  My impression of McLaughlin and her residents was confirmed today when I went to the mailbox and found a copy of the local paper with a note that said... 

“Thanks for making the stop here memorable for everyone”

I’m sure I can speak for all the drivers when I say; please be assured, you all made the stop memorable for us.

Thanks again for your kindness. 

Sincerely,

**********

It's one of the places I hope I never forget.  

Pink Heals!

Peace.

Day 16 (I get to travel, yay) That waas sarcastic, btw)

I just arrived at BOI, that's airline speak for the airport in Boise (Shoshone for "where'd all these potatoes come from?) Idaho.

A couple observations...

It was ridiculously easy to get my bag checked and get through the security screening.  Like, 15 minutes tops from the time I walked in the door til I was lacing up my shoes, easy.  I'm used to flying out of ORD (O'Hare Airport in Chicago for you travel noobs).  In fact, if it wasn't for a lovely couple flying Alaska Airlines, it probably would've been closer to 5 minutes.

Second observation?

Not a single super mega-global, Pacific northwest based, coffee-based, beverage vendor on the property.  Not.  One.  And if anyone is asking, I'm STILL available for endorsement opportunities.  Just sayin. 

Big D gets in from Albuquerque (city slogan "let's call it something NOBODY can spell correctly") in 10 minutes, can't wait to see him!

Beback later...Pink Heals!

Peace.

Day 16 PS (I know, I know)

So how, you may ask, can there be a post script if there's no script from which (whence?) to post?

Go on, ask.

Thank you.

Well, smarty pants, there IS a script. I wrote it yesterday sitting at the airport waiting for my flight home. But the mobile app from Blogger (it's always someone else's fault) wouldn't let me post...

There's been much running of errands and going to meetings today, now that I'm back home. I'll retype and post yesterday's stuff tonight.

Pink Heals!

Peace

Day 15 (this time for sure)

Leonard and I just got in to our hotel in Boise, Idaho (state motto "you'll never find cheaper potatoes") but the tour (we're officially done) is staying in Mountain Home, Idaho (state motto "famous potatoes, and nothing else") getting ready for an event tomorrow in Middleton, Idaho (state motto "we also grow beets") a small town on the outskirts of Boise, Idaho (state motto "pay no attention to the radioactive waste"). 

But Leonard and I are done.

We'll head to the airport early tomorrow.  He flies out at 7:30, I leave at 1:15.  well, maybe I'll hang out at the hotel for a little while, but I'm meeting one of our relief guys, Denver at the airport to give him the lowdown on the bus.  After Mike from FL went home, I took over the role of Dave's assistant/bus driver for a few days, so I'll go over the vehicle's quirks with big D.

I miss it already.  I miss the spontaneity of the tour, never really knowing what we're going to do until just before we do it.  I miss the guys, those that left and those we left.  I miss the people we met.  Even the guy that honked at us and yelled at us to move cause we were blocking his driveway during a home visit. 

No, really.  He yelled at us, three pink fire engines and a big pink tour bus, and told us to move so he could get out of his driveway.  Never mind his neighbor with cancer, he had somewhere to be.  Right.  Now. 

Sigh.

I will always remember some things.  Always.  Last year, it was my first ever event, outside of Bakersfield that will stay with me forever.  This year, out of all the amazing things I saw and did, the one thing that will stick with me forever was the ride from Baltic, SD back to our hotel in Sioux Falls, SD and seeing Theresa and her husband ride by on their motorcycle and Theresa holding the hand made sign that said "THANK YOU".

If you know me, you know I'm not often at a loss for words, but that left me speechless and almost left me a sobbing mass driving down the highway. 

And I'll never forget that moment, ever.

On to today's events...

We set up in the parking lot of the hotel we stayed in and ended up doing pretty ok in t-shirt sales for a spur-of-the-moment thing.  Plus we met several local women that were fired up that nothing happened here to make this event a big deal.  Two years from now, when the tour is back in this part of the country, Idaho Falls will be a VERY big deal, I'll bet.

The drive to Mountain Home was pretty uneventful except for near the end when a semi nearly ran us off the road while we were climbing a hill.  Both vehicles were struggling up the incline, he was in the left, we were in the right.  As we climbed, he slowed more and merged in front of us.  No biggie, right?  Well, he decided he needed to get on the right shoulder and he hit the brakes HARD before he cleared our lane.  I missed him by a foot or two. 

And, finally, our last installment of "meet your Pink Heals Tour drivers"  except, he's not technically a driver...  tonight, we meet Dave!

Here's Dave in McLaughlin, SD sitting on Rhino after John showed us all how it was done.  He looks like he's having second thoughts, no? 

Here's another action shot of Dave...

Now, bear in mind, that he's on tour for three to four months so even the mundane stuff has to get done out on the road.  We had some time to spare and one of the ladies that stopped to see us today worked in a salon, Dave needed a haircut so she got him in. 

But those pictures were me having a little fun at his expense.  He is absolutely dedicated to this cause and he inspires me, and many others, to work our fannies off to make this thing a reality.  He's a lot of fun to travel with, we laugh a lot, but when it's time to get stuff done, there's no question who we take our leads from.  Dave is THE MAN in so many respects and I'm proud to call him my friend.  Thanks for bringing me into the fold, buddy, call me anytime for anythinig.

OK, I'm done for the evening.  By this time tomorrow night I should be home.

But I'm planning on carrying the momentum of the tour into my writing (you lucky people) so I'll be here more regularly.  But always remember...

Pink Heals!

Peace.



 

BREAKING NEWS

This just in...

"I can relate to ducks" has learned that an event has been scheduled at a local mall here in Idaho Falls for this morning!  

Our sources tell us a guerrilla marketing approach will once again be employed to, again, ask why the women of this community aren't shown more respect, especially those fighting such an insidious disease as cancer.

This is, for me, both good and bad...

Good for, well, the obvious reasons (have you even BEGUN reading this humble, little, blog yet?) and bad, because, well, we're not in Watertown anymore.

I have to do my own laundry.  I have no clean tour t-shirts (not a huge problem, there's a bus full of tour shirts, many in my size)

I'm currently going "commando"... 

Sorry to drop that little gem on you so early in the day, but I believe in open, honest communications.  

First cup of coffee half way down, I'm going after the laundry.

Pink Heals!

Peace.



  

Day 14 (Not with a bang)

Apologies to T.S. Eliot, but

This is the way the tour ends
This is the way the tour ends
This is the way the tour ends
Not with a bang but a whimper

Leonard and I have done our last event for the 2012 tour.  It seems we have nothing scheduled until Sunday, in Middleton, ID.  By the time it starts, he'll already be in the air heading home and I'll be waiting for my flight home to board.  

I. Hate. This. Part.

We've met so many amazing people on tour.  People that we'll never forget.  Guys we worked with, survivors we met, family members, townspeople and various supporters of what we're trying to accomplish.  

I personally laughed myself to tears several times.  Thanks John and Dave and Mike.  

And I also fought the tears.  The tears I didn't want to shed from the emotion of seeing a woman, so grateful for the opportunity to sign one of our pink fire trucks, she couldn't express herself in any other way.  Some of them, long time survivors, that had never had the chance to do something like this before. 

How do you respond to a woman, with tears streaming down her cheeks, that says "Thank you so much for this".

All you can do is say "It was my honor" and hope to stay strong enough to be supportive for her.  

I said it before and I'll say it again; I'm so grateful for the women in my life, ALL of them (yes, even the dragon lady) I truly am proud to do some little thing like this to honor them.  And not just women in my family.  I have so many female friends that are so important to me, that I've drawn so much from over the years.  I'll never be able to repay you all.  But I hope this helps draw the account down a little.

We left Butte (town slogan "Moose-free for 6 days) a little after noon and headed south on I-15 for Idaho Falls.  Crossing the Continental Divide (not just a terrible John Belushi movie where he plays a Royko knockoff) and that was a cool experience.  The mountains weren't as bad to drive up as the trip in to Butte (the Pink Heals Tour bus isn't made for climbing hills) but it was still a long trip down.  We made a pit stop in Spencer (population 19), Idaho (the pink opal capitol of the world) (no, really, it is) and I swear the folks in the little store we walked in to hadn't had a visitor in weeks.  Let alone a customer. 

We got in to Idaho Falls around 5:00 and had 14 boxes of tshirts and a new tour driver waiting for us, welcome to the tour Mike O'brien (or O'brian, I'm not sure which) so we spent an hour or so organizing the bus for future events.  Two drivers are coming in on Sunday, my guy, Denver from Austin, TX is one of them but I don't know the other one.  I hope to meet up with Denver, at least briefly, at the airport, but...

It's too bad we couldn't get any interest here, the little bit I've seen is beautiful

Dave makes his initial attempts at contact with local authorities six months in advance, it's up to them if they want to respond or not.  In this case, despite monthly attempts at follow up, no-one was interested in helping the women of the community.  

It happens.

Instead of going all political on you here, I think instead I'll put up another episode of "meet your Pink Heals Tour driver"!!!  Tonight, meet Grant from Illinois!

Here Dave helpfully points out how Grant gets fully involved in explaining the program to a visitor

Grant, as you may have figured out from the pictures, is a big guy.  He's got an equally big voice.  He's well versed on many topics and has been a team player every step of the way.  He's kind of like our right fielder.  

Not sure what tomorrow will bring, but I'll be back for at least one more episode of the tour.

G'nite all.

Pink Heals!

Peace.

Day 13 (Blanche Dubois is our Guardian Angel)

First a little housekeeping... I forgot to mention (I can't believe I forgot it) yesterday I had my first super mega-global, Pacific-northwest based, coffee-based beverage in 10 days!  It was like manna from heaven.  The best part is... there's another super mega-global, Pacific-northwest based, coffee-based beverage vendor about 300 yards from our hotel tonight!  Two days in a row!  WOOHOO!!!

OK, here's today's Blanche Dubois moment... we talked last night about filling up the trucks at a fuel stop right next to our hotel.  We decided against it because it was too tight a fit, especially for the bus and the trailer.  So we headed west on I-90 pulling in to a truck stop 8 miles west of Billings.  When we got there, I saw a woman with her three little dogs following behind her and figured she was either a trucker or was riding with her husband.  She was taking pictures of the rigs and saying how cool they were.  Well after I finished fueling up the bus and powdering my nose, etc. Dave told me she was the owner of the truck stop and she was a cancer survivor to boot.  She wouldn't let us pay for the fuel.  $500.00 worth.  That's huge.  The kindness of strangers.

UPDATE- I'm currently sitting outside the local Pacific-northwest based coffee-based beverage vendor (I'm still available for endorsement opportunities btw) looking at the mountains, enjoying the sunshine and sipping on a lovely laaaattaaay (read as Forrest Gump, it makes a difference, really it does) and if (unless of course you're from the afore mentioned super mega-global, Pacific-northwest based, coffee-based beverage company, in which case I would NEVER make light of your amazing products) it wasn't for the whole 863 feet of snow per winter, combined with an average winter temperature of roughly absolute zero, I could get used to this. It really is beautiful out here. 

See?

This picture doesn't do the mountains justice, they really are amazing.

As I said earlier, today started out with us leaving Billings (or Boise, as John likes to call it) and arriving in Butte (or Boise, as John likes to call it).  We started out parking in front of the firehouse, the Chief very graciously provided us with pork chop sandwiches for lunch, and we met some really great people there. 

From the firehouse, we split up with Leslie and Tonya (the two engines, driven by John and Grant) went to do a home visit while Karen and Ann Marie (driven by Leonard {sans chaps} and me, with Dave riding shotgun) went to the local mall for a static display.  Met a lot of nice people there too, and between the two stops we sold a decent amount of t-shirts and hats which is always a good thing.  As I've mentioned before, that's what keeps the trucks on the road.

Tonight I'm in the hotel for the rest of the evening.  Time to do some laundry.  Apparently no-one from Watertown, SD called ahead for us... or they don't have a "wolf" working for them here. 

Tomorrow we leave for Idaho Falls, ID (or Boise, as John likes to call it) we have a travel day tomorrow but there are 14 boxes of t-shirts waiting for us there, so we'll be busy once we get there.

Pink Heals!

Peace

Day 12 (proving the Blanche Dubois theory)

Well today we did the Pink Heals Tour version of trolling.  We went to the local mall, set up in a corner of the parking lot and let the pink fire trucks do what they do best.  Draw attention.  

People are, oddly enough, attracted to our vehicles.  Who knew, right?  Among the people to stop by and see us was the wife of the mayor of Billings, a lovely woman named Robin.  She signed our truck in memory of her Mom and Dave had a really nice chat with her, telling her who we are and what we do.  We also spoke to some guys from the Billings FD about getting a chapter started up out here.

Reporters came by from the two local TV stations as well as one from the local public radio station.  All-in-all it was a really nice day for something pretty much spontaneous.  We even made contact with the local cancer care center and swung by for a visit.  Most of their patients had left for the day, but they also have a center in Butte (next town we visit) and we made arrangements to stop in there.  Like I keep saying, kindness of strangers...

Occasionally when we have a little idle time we may do strange things like, for example...

But we also do what we're best at, like this...

That's John from OK talking with a woman fighting breast cancer, and her daughter.  It's funny how much of a hold Komen has on the color pink.  The vast majority assumes we're only about breast cancer because of the color. 

We're about so much more.  We're really focusing on keeping money raised in the community where it's raised, whether it's city, county or state, it needs to be easily accessible for the people that need it where and when they need it.  That's why we don't take donations.  we want people to give their money to a local entity so it gets to the person on the next block that can't make a car payment because the chemo makes them too sick to go to work

OK, I'm off my soapbox, for now at least.

On to the next installment of meet you Pink Heals Tour driver!  Today it's Mike from FL.  Mike went home today, and I'm bummed to see him go.  And I'm even more bummed since I realized I don't have a picture of Mike to share with the class...  Mike came on tour last year for 18 days and this time around filled the role of bus driver/special assistant to Dave.  He's a really good dude and I enjoyed working with him and chatting with him.  

We leave in the morning for Butte, so until tomorrow...

Pink Heals!

Peace

Day 11 (break time)

We did nothing today. And I'm ok with that.

Yesterday was pretty busy and we logged more windshield time than we did time at events so it was a long day too.

It was nice to get caught up on mundane tasks and tonight I'm going to bed early. Been fighting a headache all day too and that hasn't helped.

I had dinner tonight with the son of one of my nieces, he's going to school out here in Billings. I thought about going out to catch a movie with a couple of the guys, but now that I'm in my room I don't see me going back out.

We took Duane from NC to the airport today, he's going home. Duane is starting a chapter in Cape Fear, NC (I always hear Robert DeNiro saying "come out, come out, where ever you are" when I say Cape Fear) and he's going to do a great job with it. Duane is a hugger and he loves getting out and meeting with people. Also? He's a snoring machine. I roomed with him for the last week, let me tell you that man makes some noise. Take care rooms. Good luck with the chapter.

Ok, I'm out. More in Billings tomorrow.

Pink Heals!

Peace.

Day 10 version 2.0 (civilization is not over-rated)

We're in Billings!

I never thought I'd be excited to say that.  

I've decided discretion is the better part of blah, blah, blah and I'm not going to rip Miles City, MT (I know, I know, but hey they have to live there.  We were just passing through). OK I feel better.

We left Pierre (French for "I told you we should've turned left at Portland") just at sunrise

and headed up to McLaughlin, SD.  We got there an hour early (bouncing back and forth over the time zone change) so we hung out with some of the local folks on their ranch.  A ranch which, by the way, houses bulls used on the Pro Rodeo circuit... Can you guess where we're going with this?

Yes!  It's another episode in the continuing saga of "Mommy what's that man doing to those cows"

 Now that his ride has been selected...

Despite our pleading, they wouldn't open the chute and let John really ride Rhino.  That's probably for the best.  It's never dull with John on tour.

We were paraded into to McLaughlin (population 683) by the local Fire Department and it was awesome.  A good percentage of the town was out cheering us on as the FD led us to the local high school.  We met with the residents, had several people sign our trucks and then went in to the school for refreshments.

Dave got everyone fired up about the program, something he's very good at, and after an hour or so, we headed up to North Dakota (state motto - "You betcha we're not part of Canada, eh?) arriving in Bismarck (no, it really is named after the pastry) around 3:00 or maybe 2:00 because I swear we were back and forth between Mountain and Central time zones about 48 times.  Plus we had no cell signal for basically the whole trip.  That was an odd feeling.

Our hosts in Bismarck (look it up, I'm not joking) took us to two home visits.  Well, a home visit and a work visit.  The woman at the work visit was upset we were coming to town and she couldn't get off work.  So Tracey, the local chapter president, brought us to "K's" work.  She had no clue.  

It.  Rocked.

Here you can see Duane from NC leading her to Vivian, the local chapter's engine, so she could sign as a survivor.  She was thrilled.  We did another home visit, supporting Tracey's aunt as she fights a cancer that has metastized.  What an amazing spirit this woman has.  Our next stop was a static display in a parking lot.  We had a really nice turnout there and sold a bunch of shirts to keep fuel in the trucks.

Lastly, we gave Mia and her Mom a ride home.  Mia beat brain cancer, quite an achievement for a little girl.  She grinned from ear to ear when I asked her if she wanted to drive and kept that grin as our fleet pulled away after we dropped them off at home.

Heading west to Montana (state motto "South Dakota gets their dust from here) we got to see an awesome sunset

to go with the beautiful sunrise we saw yesterday morning.  

In our ongoing "Meet your Pink Heals Tour driver" series, I originally planned to write about Duane from NC today, since he left for home this morning.  But at the ranch outside McLaughlin this happened...

Meet Leonard from Michigan.  He's a deputy working in Corrections in real life.  I like him anyway.  He's also a volunteer firefighter in Southwestern MI.  Subtle humor, good patience and intestinal issues are what I'll always remember about Leonard.  Plus he's going to do the upholstery for us if we ever find an engine for our Pink Heals chapter...

OK, I think that's the full roundup from yesterday (did I mention I don't care for Miles City, MT?).  Also?  Bismarck probably isn't really named after the pastry.  But it should be because it's a lovely pastry.  

I'll be back later for an update on today.

Pink Heals!

Peace.

Day 10 (Readers Digest condensed version)

This is going to be short and sweet. 

Apparently Miles City, MT (which, coincidentally got its name because it's miles from anything you could call a city) is perfectly content with their dial-up service...

I'll get caught up in Billings.  I hope. 

I have much to say. 

Pink Heals!

Peace. 

Day 9 (I feel like registering to vote in South Dakota)

Well today was... interesting. 

Welcome to the Pink Heals Tour, where we're kind of like Blanche ("we have always depended on the kindness of strangers.") DuBois.  Leslie has a loose belt and this fine gentleman climbed up to take a look and see if he could be of service.  Despite his best efforts, Leslie's belt is still loose, but we had no issues with it today.

We left Aberdeen around 8:30.  Saw a lot of farm land including sunflower fields, a first for me.

We made our way west and then south to Pierre (French for "holy crap it's windy here") and got into town around 11:30.  We were met by an engine from Pierre FD (side note, Pierre Fire Department is all volunteer.  Nobody stays at the station, they all come from home.  For real.  The state capitol.  Color me surprised) and (don't get me wrong, I'm not knocking volunteers.  I'm just surprised) we were escorted to a large, Arkansas based, we sell everything on the planet, store (hold the endorsement opportunities, I'll pass) and we set up in the parking lot.

Met some nice people there, did a few home visits and then went on to the local dragstrip for a quick (see what I did there?) event.

But if you know me, you know I'm not a big racing guy.  It was cool, but it wasn't well organized from our perspective and I was ready to go about 15 minutes after we got there...

So instead of rambling on about nothing of consequence, I've decided to turn the rest of this into the first installment of "meet your Pink Heals Tour driver" effort.

Meet John, he's from 

He's also a famous movie star

That's him (a younger, hairier, him) on the right (in uniform) with Helen Hunt in a scene from "Twister"  We tell people all the time he's famous.  I also tell people he's my dad, even though he's less than 10 years older than I am.  John is a genuinely nice guy, and he makes me laugh.  He's also really good at interacting with people.  He's got that Okie drawl and I'm never quite sure if he's trying to pull a fast one or not... Here's John entertaining us -

Stay tuned for more installments of "meet your Pink Heals Tour driver"

Tomorrow we head up to McLaughlin, SD then we cross in to North Dakota (no offense South Dakotarians, but THANK GOD!) and head to Bismarck (a lovely pastry) and then to Miles City, MT where we'll spend the night.  Yikes.  Lotta windshield time tomorrow.

Pink Heals!

Peace