Blizzard of ’77

Blizzard of ’77
Nada Surf

In blizzard of ’77
The cars were just lumps on the snow
And then later
Tripping in 7-11
The shelves were stretching out of control
On a plane ride
The more it shakes
The more i have to let go
Now the signals
Still getting all mixed up
We’re always doing damage control

But in the middle of the night i worry
It’s blurry even without light

I know i have got a negative edge
That’s why i sharpen all the others a lot
It’s like flowers or ladybugs
Pretty weeds or red beetles with dots

But in the middle of the night i worry
It’s blurry even without light

I miss you more than i knew
I miss you more than i knew
I miss you more than i knew

Last day with Gerry

I was at work when Kelly called me at 10 AM. Gerry’s status hadn’t improved and had actually worsened overnight. He was no longer breathing on his own and there was absolutely no sign of brain activity. The family was talking of making final preparations, Kelly said, and if I wanted a chance to say goodbye while he was still being kept alive I needed to go immediately. I dashed off a note to my manager before rushing out the door, frantically calling up Jeff and Scott as I went.

Unlike my Monday afternoon trip to Duke Hospital, when I got lost driving around Durham, this time I took the Durham Freeway straight there. I walked up to the hallway outside his ICU to find some of his friends already there, many of them already in tears.
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Remembering the good times

Beer Night

Gerry’s “Beer Night” drinking buddies, Jeff, Scott, and myself, decided to get together last night for beers and to talk about Gerry. His good friends Bill Ramsay and Janet Mobley joined us at the North Hills Fox and Hound. We were only together for less than two hours but there was a lot of laughter and stories shared.

It was the best therapy I could’ve asked for during this difficult time. Gerry had a knack for collected some pretty cool friends.

Sinking in

I’ve reached that point now, the one where the reality is beginning to sink in that the Gerry that I knew is gone. Up until now I’ve put up a good front and kept up with the gallows humor but the truth I’ve known all along but refused to acknowledge is finally being accepted. Gerry was gone the second that truck smashed into his car and he isn’t coming back.

Some folks at the office are aware of my loss and many have stopped by my desk to inquire about him. I’ve been giving somber replies but have usually thrown in something positive to lessen the stark reality. I used to think it was for their benefit but it was really for mine. No use pretending anymore.

My manager wanted to talk with me today after hearing the talk in the office and so I told him the whole story. Today was the first time my show of strength failed me, that I could no longer hide the pain. Describing to my boss how Gerry had chance to dodge the truck barreling down on him, I lost my composure and began to cry.
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Holding out for a miracle

I didn’t sleep very well last night. Nor did Kelly. Nor did Gerry’s family nor the hundreds of friends that knew him. I couldn’t stop thinking how quickly things happened. In the blink of an eye my friend went from a happy, healthy life to tragedy. It is the dream I can’t wake up from.

I was feeling pretty glum today about his status. Several of my coworkers came by to ask me about him and express their sympathy. I appreciated that but I stayed in a funk all day. It wasn’t until I spoke with Kelly around 11 that I gently began to feel better. That’s when she mentioned that Gerry’s gag reflex had returned. It’s such a simple thing, a grain of good news next to a mountain of bad, but it provided me a glimmer of hope.

I’m not fooling myself into thinking that it Gerry’s prognosis is anything but grim. It will take nothing short of a miracle to heal Gerry, an honest to God miracle. But miracles do happen. All the time.

We’re not privy to the script in life’s play. None of us know when we’ll play our last scene, or how the play will end. We just play our roles and pine for the time when we can once again join our fellow actors backstage. And I look forward to kicking Gerry’s ass someday for putting us through this, here or elsewhere! 🙂

My friend Gerry Reid severely injured

Gerry Reid

Gerry Reid

My close friend Gerry Reid was severely injured this morning in a terrible car accident on I-40 today. Gerry had stopped in traffic and got rear-ended by a tractor-trailer. He was flown to Duke Hospital where he was in surgery all day.

Gerry’s in critical condition. He has been severely injured, with serious neck and head injuries. The next 24-48 hours will be critical for him. He has swelling in his brain and is unresponsive. Doctors will perform more tests in the morning to see how he’s doing.

My friend is in a fight for his life. Please keep him and his family in your prayers.

Where does the weekend go?

I had a fun weekend around the home. Saturday was spent going to and from the kids’ basketball games. Today was spent going to and from the circus. A great time was had by all. And the weather cooperated a bit, being dry and in the mid to upper 50s.

I’m sorry to see the weekend go. Tomorrow it’s back to the daily grind.

876-561-5492 and 876-559-3893

I got two mystery calls to my mobile phone today, one from 876-561-5492 and another from 876-559-3893. I didn’t answer either one, but I suppose that’s not the point of the calls. The point is for me to see that I missed the calls and attempt to call them back!

You see, the 876 area code isn’t an American area code, but a Jamaican one. Calls to Jamaica, even with my dirt-cheap VoIP calling plan, are $0.26 per minute! So some unsuspecting person sees that they missed a call from an 876 number, calls it back, and gets strung along during the call, thinking that they’re paying domestic rates while all along they’re paying through the teeth for the call.

AT&T has a nice page that discusses 876 area code calls. Read it and take its advice: don’t call back numbers you don’t know.