Detroit City Hall is Dirty

Yes, Detroit City Hall is dirty in more ways than one.

More than a week after an "alleged" power surge caused a fire in the basement of the Coleman A. Young Building in Detroit, employees are still not allowed back in the building.

Employees are forced to take vacation days or go without pay.

Mighty convenient. I wonder if any Members of Team Kilpatrick will go without their paycheck or be forced to take a vacation day.

Don't think so.

Meanwhile, Wayne County Prosecutor Kim Worthy announced today that more charges are pending against the Text King Mayor of Detroit.

Then there is the Sludge Scandal that Monica (Do it Baby!) Conyers is involved in. Seems like the Majority of Detroiters like having the wool pulled over their eyes. Seems like the majority of Detroiters like having their tax money misappropriated, misspent and misused. Seems like the majority of Detroiters like having their city looted and given to Team Kilpatrick.

Not me. Not one more dime from this non-represented taxpayer. No Taxation without Representation.

NEXT

About a week and a half ago I got permission from my doctor to start driving again. First thing I did? Went to the Green Brain, a comic store here in Dearborn. Plopped down $20 for An Incredible Hercules (formally the Hulk), Issue #3 of HULK (featuring Red Hulk), two issues of the X-Men and #1 of Secret Invasion, where we find out that the Skrulls have been secretly invading Earth for some time now.

I also bought an issue of Comic Book Monthly.

Not much for $20. I remember when $1 bought FIVE Comics. With $20 back then I would have been safe for nearly a half a year. Now the cost is $2.99. One of the reasons why I gave up reading comics 15 years ago.

But I'm in a Comic Book Mood nowadays. This summer is filled with Comic book goodness. In fact, just got back from the afternoon matinee of Iron Man. Honestly it is one of the best Comic adaptations I've seen. I guess everyone should have some kind of habit. I don't smoke, take drugs, buy porn (that should drive some traffic here) or drink in excess (at least the last two months). $20 a month habit for some comics should be fine.

NEXT TIME: The Final Week at Home

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The Gastro Strikes Back

Had a small set back not to long after my last entry.

Seems like while my heart was what needed fixing, my internal "gastro" areas got jealous and needed a little attention.

When I was in the hospital the first time, a few days after my open heart surgery, I went to the bathroom, which was nothing more than than a small pull out toilet in the room with small curtain.

After what I felt was a satisfying bowel movement, I called for the nurse to help me back to my bed. Next thing I knew I was sitting in a hospital chair surrounded by white coats. My blood pressure went through the roof after the bowel movement and I fainted.

There is nothing funny about fainting after a bowel movement.

Ok..I guess there is.

Well, after a few weeks at home, and as I wrote, after my last blog entry, I started to feel a little constipated. Then a little more. Then I was gaining weight.

Then I woke up sick, with a fever and bowled over in pain. So I won a beautiful four days, three nights back in the hospital classified NBO (Nothing By Mouth) . The O means Oral.

After a good cleaning by the hospital staff I lost about ten pounds and was cleared to go home. But then I was back on a few meds which made it a little difficult to collect my thoughts.

I've been back home now two weeks and I am 15 pounds lighter than when I went in for my OHS.

In Other News: I want to thank Joe and Mike for stopping by the other week to visit for a while. And I guess I am now the Commish of the Blue Hippo Fantasy Football League.

And the FBI is investigating the Detroit City Council.

Apparently I have a lot to write about now.

NEXT TIME: Sixteen again and I have the keys to the car.

Searching for Lost Time

Today is my one month post-op anniversary.



And I don't know where the time went. Seriously, each day has blended into the next. While in the hospital, it was hard to develop a timeline as to when what happened.



I've been told that for each hour a patient is under anesthetic, it takes a week for it to leave the system. My surgery was supposed to be only 4 hours, it last a little more than eight.



Which means I'm only halfway to being "clear". (Not to be confused with $cientology's concept of being clear. Crazy Tom Cruise)



Anyway, here I am one month later and I have my good days and bad days. Much of it comes form the medication and some comes from the anesthetic. When they finished replacing my heart valve, they had to open me up and stop some internal bleeding I had. Basically I had two invasive surgeries in the same day.

Luckily thy found the problem: an artery got torn during the surgery.

But again, here it is a month later and it seems like yesterday. I've had a whole month of basically sitting at home doing squat. The first week home was the worst. Couldn't read, walked around like a zombie, couldn't sleep and couldn't taste anything. The pills I was taking made water taste like blended rocks.

But as I mark one month post-op, I'm now trying to make better use of my time. Yeah, I've lost about a month of my life in a medically induced stupor, but now I'm looking forward to the second month.

This week I can start driving again, at least to the corner store.
My medication has been reduced to ten different pills three tiems a day, to five pills, once a day.
Kelly and I are going on a small vacation Up North for a week at the end of June. Time to recouperate someplace different than my living room.
I'm reading a book a week now.

While I've lost a bit of time, its time for me to make up for that by looking forward to times in the future. The Fall fishing trip is only about three months away.

Next time: My Time In The Hospital or Fainting on the Loo.

Trying to remember memories.

First off, I have to say, what a pathetic performance from the Mayor of Detroit. Yeah, I know he's the Mayor and all, but c'mon. He deserved every boo. The Detroit Red Wings "embiggen" everything great about Detroit; Kwame is what is wrong with Detroit. For him to finish his 30 second speech with "the beer is on me" is beyond unreal.

Its all about Kwame, isn't it?

Enough about that.

Its funny what you remember and how your memory play with your mind.

When I was rolled into the operating room, I was freshly shaved. Not just my face, but my whole body...WHOLE BODY. (except my head).

Its wierd to just nod off one second, then open your eyes and its 12 hours later and have 5 tubes sticking outta me. I don't remember much of a timeline, but I do remember incidents, just not in any order.

I honestly don't remember anything from when I woke up, except for them taking the breathing tube out of me and the blessed joy of having ice cubes to chew on. The operation was on a Monday and I really start tot remember stuff on Wednesday. Maybe late Tuesday.

I remember them taking my neck tube out. Then some metal wire from my chest. The catheter being taken out was Tuesday, I think.

What I remember vividly was the sound of my Wife Kelly telling me I was ok and that everything was going to be alright. I remember my mother telling me to take the ice cubes slowly.

I try to recollect those lost moments, but its fruitless. Much of that time is gone forever. Try as my family does to fill in the blanks, I just can't remember. Maybe its a good thing. My body went though a tramatic experience. This may be one way to heal.

I don't really need those memories. I know my family was there beside me when I came out surgery. .. a surgery that should have only lasted 4 hours.

Instead it lasted twelve becasue when they stitched me up, I started to bleed.

Something went wrong. The surgeon had to go back in.

Through the Looking Glass

Bugs on the Wall
Polar Bears outside my window
Passing out after having a bowel movement
Severe mood swings
Water that tastes like a blended rock.

Yeah, its been a tough couple of weeks. All I am missing is the Red Queen and the Mad Hatter.

On May 12th I went in for my open heart surgery to get my aortic heart valve replaced. I fully expected to be out of the hospital six days later.

Ten days later I was still in the hospital.

Three weeks my surgeon finally cut back the number of pills I had to take everyday. My head is a bit clearer and I don't feel like a walking zombie anymore. (Speaking of Zombies, read World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie Wars. Good Stuff)

After a little absence from the Hippo's Ass, I back again using this as a way to re-collect and try to focus my thoughts again. The drugs haven't helped my mind. While my body is slowly getting better, being couped up in the house watching Rachel Ray and re-runs of every news story twice can make Jack a dull boy.

Before going into the hospital, I envisioned going home, reading a novel a week, and doing a lot of writing. I'm still trying to finish a book and this is the first bit of writing I've done in almost a month. Thank you cards are even tough.

So if you are interested in what I've been doing the past three and a half weeks, tune in tomorrow and the following days.

I'd also be interested in hearing from you. Drop me a line.

Monty Python in Legoland

Its Thursday and I should be getting out of ICU today. Hopefully. If all goes according to plan, they will move me to what they call the Cardiac Step Down unit. I may or may not still have a few tubes hooked up to my chest, neck and arm. (We won't mention the catheter)

Meanwhile, here are two more Lego movie shorts that I found on YouTube. I just can seem to get enough of these right now.

Here are two scenes from Monty Python and the Holy Grail

First: The French Taunter




Next up: The Camelot Scene. This one looks more professionally done than the others, but its still funny. If you get a chance, check out some of the others on YouTube.



That is all for now. I should be home Saturday but will probably not post anything till Monday. Till then....

Cake or Death

No, my surgery wasn't postponed. I have gone the way of Neo and made my way into the Internet. Its keeping me busy while my surgeon is busy mending my heart.

Since I probably won't be laughing much today, I thought I'd at least make you chuckle. Besides, getting open heart surgery is no excuse for not posting on the HA.

Here is another hilarious Eddie Izzard routine, illustrated through the magic of Legos. Courtesy of Thorn2200.

Enjoy!

Popping the Steelhead Cherry

Final Installment of the Spring Fishing Trip

Written by Joe

Fishing for Steelhead Trout is a lot like sex. For some, it comes naturally, in no time at all you are out in the wilderness, waist deep in a wet river, maneuvering your rod with such skill that with the faintest flick of the tip you gently drift your fly into a hidden honey hole resulting in a heart pounding give and take tango with a glistening hen (aka female steelhead)

And then there is the rest of us who after multiple years of futile attempts find themselves paying for it… and let me tell you, it was worth every penny.

Most of the morning was spent learning from our guide. First we focused on how to handle our rods our reels our line and our flies. Next we learned the secrets of finding the fish and how to approach the hole. Finally after honing our techniques it happens… FISH ON!!!

It was a text book cast played to perfection. Justin drew his nine foot rod back and thrust it forward shooting his line across the mighty Pere Marquete. Dit… Dit… Dit… the sinker bounced of the rocky bottom. Dit… Dit… Dit… the current carried the fly toward the hole. Dit... Dit….. tug?

Tug?

Tug?

FISH ON and all was quiet

What do you mean FISH ON? We never FISH ON? How do we FISH ON? AHHH WHAT DO I DO Justin calls out to our guide.

With all the calm of someone who as caught as many fish as we’ve drank beers our Guide swings into action.

Tip up Justin, keep the tip up.

Let it RUN… Let it RUN… Give it some line…

Ok, good Justin, when you get a chance start to reel.

Justin standing tall and proud in the river mastering his rod maneuvering the… the… the… what? What exactly did Justin have at the end of his line?

SPLASH, with a sudden thrust a massive steelhead trout launches itself from the shallow river bed high into the cool spring air.

SPLASH again the monster steelhead breaches shaking its massive head left and right trying to spit the fly which snared him.

SPLASH… DIVE… RUN the steelhead speeds down river

Scoop

Again with the calm of a master angler our guide nets the fated beast.

Finally after several years of failed attempts, Justin breaks our collective cherry.

Smiling from ear to ear Justin gently grips the monster and raises it from the net holding it high and proud like Yzerman hoisting the holly grail of all sports trophies.

Stage left enter a conflicted fisherman… how could it be? I was the one who was supposed to catch the first steelhead ever. Why Justin? Why not me? A half jealous half proud Joe congratulates Justin on his triumphant catch.

Slowly lowering the mighty catch into the water holding its head upstream allowing the gentle current to pass oxygen through its gills Justin nurtures the trout back from the brink of exhaustion and lets it swim gently away.

We all catch our breath and get back at it. You see the secret of fly fishing for steelhead our guide explains is this… First, as long as you don’t catch the hen, there will always be males around to catch. Second, you never leave fish to find more fish.

So our anglers continue… FISH ON… Again? Twice in a row? How can it be?

Justin begins to reel in fish number two. This time though there is no fight, there is no splashing, Justin reels in a baby brown trout. Our anglers all laugh thinking we’ve seen bait bigger than this little fella. But still, a catch is a catch and that makes it Justin 2, Joe donut. Sorry we can’t tell you about Don just yet, he was fishing another hole.

Our anglers celebrate the recent catch with some fantastic habanera sausage and a cold India Pal Ale (a delicious beer the Canadian brought from the great North)

Another hour goes by and our dynamic duo continue to thrust their rods at the hole hoping to get lucky…

Dit Dit Dit tug…

TUG? FISH ON

FINALLY IT’S JOE’S TURN.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzing line rips off the reel like it were attached to a freight train.

Farther and farther down the river the steelhead swims.

Jump splash not once not twice but five times we see the steelhead break the river’s surface trying to spit the fly.

Tip Up… Rod toward the shore… Reel Reel Reel… run run run Reel Reel Reel wow we have a fighter. This guy isn’t giving up any time soon.

Now I’ve caught huge pike, bad ass walleye, a couple sheep head hogs and a fat belly bass or two in my day, but never has a fish fought for its freedom as much as this guy.

Minute after minute the fish battles to escape until finally after a quarter of an hour he finally subsides

Scoop, way down stream our guide nets Joe’s first steelhead.

This guy was a few inches smaller in length and girth than Justin’s monster (insert that’s what she said joke here) but he was newer to the river. Our guide again emparts some knowledge on our young anglers (note our guide was several years younger than us however in fishing years he was like 740)

You see, Gabe explain, the longer a fish is in the river the darker his color will be and the redder his fins and cheeks will become. Also, the longer they are in the river the less energy they have to fight due to the constant effort they endure to swim the mighty currents.

So, apparently I caught a rookie. And man was he fun to catch.

Justin 1 Steely 1 Brown, Joe 1 Steely, Don we just don’t know

Our anglers celebrate the recent catch with some fantastic habanera sausage and a cold India Pal Ale (a delicious beer the Canadian brought from the great North)

Lunch time… our guide fires up the grill while our anglers continue to perfect their technique.

The delicious smell of grilled marinated chicken fills the air and the faint sizzle and pop of the grill can be heard over the rushing current. Gabe begins to set up for lunch

Dit Dit Dit… tug? FISH ON.

Again Justin hooks into a monster steelhead. With the chicken grilling in the back ground our guide and Justin muscle in another monster fish. Almost as big as the first one. Time for a picture, Justin puts his rod between his teeth and bites down holding the nine footer in place while he and his fellow angler pose for another memory. Another beautiful steelhead catch captured in time.

Fishing makes one kind of hungry, especially at the rate we were nailing them. A brief pause for lunch. And it is scrumptious. Another India Pale Ale another chunk of spicy sausage and its back at it.

Having a few miles of river yet ahead of us our anglers have to leave theses fish to find more fish closer to base camp.

Masterfully Gabe manuvers our boat down stream dodging fallen tree, raging rapids and the occasional fisherman fishing a hopeless spot lacking of gravel and shade. Gabe laughs at them as he passes by explaining the intricacies of finding a good fishing hole. And it becomes clear as day to our anglers, YOU CAN’T CATCH FISH BEHIND THE TROUT POST. Its just not a good spot.

We are nearing the end of our 8 hour float each of us having caught three fish each when out of the corner of his eye Gabe spies a pot of gold… swimming in place behind some rocks in the shadow of a tall pine tree are a school of steelies.

Quickly ditching the boat into the shore and dropping the anchor our anglers leap into the river

WOA! The river is DEEP here and the current is FAST… Gabe looks us in the eyes and asks, can you handle the river here, with trepidation we go all in.

First cast dit dit dit TUG zing… another monster tears down stream ripping line out of Joe’s reel. Jump splash dive

SNAP

For the first time all day our anglers fail to land their prey.

Second Cast, this time it’s Justin

Dit dit dit… tug zing!

Again a monster plows down stream right into the net of our guide.

3 Steelhead 1 Brown for Justin 1 Steelhead 2 Trout for Joe

Dit dit dit… tug zing snap Justin loses the second fish of the day.

Dit dit dit tug zing… FISH ON… Joe catches his second steelie of the day.

Arms aching, spirits high, our anglers muscle up to cast again when on the horizon we see our good friend the professor.

Excited to hear of Don’s success and to share stories of Justin and Joe’s fantastic day our trio unite.

Sigh… none? Zero? No steelhead? How can that be? Justin and Joe caught five steelies and three trout. How can it be that Don had yet to land a treasured prize.

This can not be, it will not be, Joe gives up his spot to his good pal Don and climbs the bank to watch in hope that the professor will school a monster.

What kind of line do you have on this reel our guide asks Don’s guide? Our guide shakes his head at the answer.

What kind of set up do you have on this rod our guide asks Don’s guide? Our guide shakes his head at the answer.

Realizing Don has inferior tools Gabe stands tall beside him in the river coaching him up on technique directing Don toward the fish.

Cast, drift, dit dit dit tug?

Pause

Tug ?

Pause

ZING with more speed and force this fish storm down the river like none before it.

Hard left it turns into some rocks shaking the line under water trying to free itself. Hard right under the boat it swims hoping to rip the line on the sharp edge of the hull. Zing down the river and around the bend the fish swims tearing the line off the reel getting down to the very end.

Standing tall in the river, arms aching, heart pounding Don stands alone as the guides run through the water up stream and out of site to hopefully net this fighter of all fighters.

Tight the line bends Don’s rod nearly dragging his boots along the rocky river bottom then nothing, not tug, line limp, rod straight in Don’s hand… silence…

Then from around the bend our anglers hear a loud cheer. Gabe had netted the beast just as it spit the fly nearly freeing itself from being caught.

Thrashing in the water our guide walks upstream smiling from ear to ear. Don had caught the hen.

A beautiful silver female steelhead. The most striking fish caught all day.
Just over eight hours into our trip, sun beginning to set, our day had ended.

As Don coached the hen back to health letting her swim down stream so went the males that filled our lucky spot.

Justin 3 Steelhead 1 Brown, Joe 2 Steelhead 2 Rainbow, Don 1 amazing female steelhead.

Editor's Note: When I first heard that I was not able to go on the Spring Fishing trip, I was sorely upset. After all these years of not catching fish on the Pere Marquette, I just knew that this was going to be the trip. I thought I would be bitter and jealous.

But after reading these reports and when I first saw the photos of Joe, Justin and Don catching what may well be the most spectacular fish we've ever caught on our Fishing Trips, I was not jealous, I was extremely happy. That's what these fishing trips are all about. I wasn't there with them personally, but I was there in spirit.

There is always the next trip to personally catch fish...So, where are we going in October???

This week while I am in the Hospital, I've left a few posts for you to read. Tune in after today. Enjoy.

Jeff Vader

This is frakkin hilarious.

Darth Vader at the Death Star Cafeteria



YouTube User Thorn2200 created these to comedian Eddie Izzard's stand up routine.

Simply Genius!

Mayor Tootsie, Versed and McCain/Clinton?

Could This Happen?

Right now there is no way that Hillary Clinton will catch up to Barak Obama in delegate counts. It would probably take ALL of the Super Delegates to go for Hillary for her to win the Democrat Nomination.

Rumor has it, Michigan and Florida are considering giving Hillary 55% of their delegates and Obama 45% just to get them seated at the convention. Not enough to put Clinton over the top.

John McCain has made it no secret his desire to play peace maker, trying to bridge the gap between Democrats and Republicans. Some even thought he might leave the Republican Party a few years back to become a Democrat.

Consider this: Is a McCain/Clinton ticket possible? Could Hillary pledge her supporters to McCain and run on a “Unity Ticket”? How bad do the Clintons want back into the White House?


Versed: Preferred by 9 out of 10 Death Row Inmates

Last week I had my catheterization. The procedure wasn’t that bad, it lasted all of one hour and I was pretty doped up on Versed all the time. I spent six hours on my back watching re-runs of Different Strokes. One was the episode where Arnold and his friend get taken advantage of by Mr. Carlson from WKRP in Cincinnati, who plays a perverted white man with a camera. Why this two part episode didn’t garner an Emmy nomination, I’ll never know.

For every hour you have anesthesia in your system, it takes almost a week for it to leave. Saturday, all I did was eat and pass out. Now I’ve been limping all week because the swelling in my thigh went down and I am sore and bruised. It should be completely healed by the time I go back into the hospital for some more pain.

Then I find out this little tidbit about Versed:

Versed is offered to death row inmates before execution in the United States, according to the film The Missouri Protocol (1990). A Missouri prison doctor interviewed in the film said virtually no prisoners turned down the drug when it was offered a few hours prior to execution.

Had I known, I would have demanded a “Last Supper” of my grandmother’s meatloaf, mashed potatoes and corn.

The countdown for me has started. Monday is coming up pretty fast. I’m hoping I get the “employee dosage” next week when I finally go in for my OHS. I don’t want to even remember that I had a breathing tube in. That’s what is bothering me the most: Waking up to find myself on a ventilator, helping me to breathe.

There were two things I told Kelly, 1) keep giving me the pain drugs and 2) get the damn breathing tube out of me as soon as possible.

Three full days left.


Mayor Tootsie

Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick is denying that this is him dressed up as a woman for a school play:

(Hint: He's the one in the red dress). Team Kilpatrick is vehemently denying it. Detroit Ministry of Truth Director Denise Tolliver even went so far as to threaten to sue the New York newspaper that printed the story. Several of Mayor Tootsie’s classmates confirm that it was him in the play. What’s the big deal? It's not like we all haven’t dressed up in women’s clothing once in our lives. I’ve done it twice (that I know or admit to). The top two funniest comedies of the 20th Century (Some Like it Hot and Tootsie) both have men dressed as women. Monty Python. Kids in the Hall. ‘Nuff Said.

But I guess that would just ruin his image as the Hip Hop Mayor and destroy his street cred. Kilpatrick is so full of himself that he unless he controls the flow of information (or propaganda) he gets upset. Busted is what you see, Kwame.

His “Minister of Truth” Denise Tolliver isn’t doing a very good job of “keeping it real” in the media. Tolliver failed in her propaganda role to stop a national show from mocking King Kwame.

The Daily Show with Jon Stewart ripped Kwame the other evening in their broadcast on Comedy Central. Watch this clip below. Its 7 minutes long, but well worth your time.



Ah Kwame…I guess we ARE all out to get you, with good reason. Now that the National Media is openly mocking the Sex Text Mayor, when will we see the Detroit Corporate Community finally step up and demand that Kilpatrick step down? Why won’t Roger Penske, Mike Ilitch of Little Caesars, Tony Earley of DTE, Peter Karmanos of Compuware or David Brandon of Detroit Renaissance, (just to name a few) do the right thing. What are they afraid of?

Kwame won’t step down till Team Kilpatrick is finished looting the city of Detroit. He still has 20 months till election time to compete the job. Unless the citizens of Detroit succeed in recalling him or the Business Community starts acting like LEADERS, Team Kilpatrick will continue to steal from the hard working taxpayers of Detroit to fill the gold lined pockets of his cronies.

Tomorrow: The final installment of the Spring Fishing Trip where we actually get to see pictures of Fish.

Coming Soon: Scott goes “off the grid” for a while.

The Sound of Distant Thunder

No one needed the alarm to wake them up… in fact, collectively our three fishermen shared just a few scant hours of sleep between them. Who could sleep… just knowing the impending sunrise would mark the beginning of our journey up the Pere Marquette river to catch the elusive Steelhead Trout was enough to keep even the most sleepy of our fishermen wide awake.

Beep Beep Beep the unnecessary alarm rang out announcing to everyone in the cabin that it was time to catch trophy fish.

Beep Beep Beep the unnecessary alarm rang out again reminding everyone of our brethren who could not make the trip.

Beep Bee…… silence, in the quiet of the cabin we hear the Canadian ask “pull my finger”

So, with a small thunder the adventure begins.

Fun FACT #1 Pull My Finger is a joke or prank regarding flatulence
in which a mark is asked to pull the finger of the illusionist (or person
playing the joke), who simultaneously flatulates so as to suggest a causal
relationship between the pulling of the finger and the subsequent expulsion
of gas. References in popular culture tend to treat "pull my finger" as a meme, saying the line but not showing the result, apparently on the assumption that the result is well known.>

Our trio race out the door guzzling coffee, chomping Pop-Tarts and dodging deer as we reach outrageous speeds negotiating the twists, turns and dips of the two track road to civilization.

There it is, up on the right. We see two guides, two monster trucks (one Chevy one F150) and two boats parked in front of the PM Lodge. It’s a beautiful site.

Clint and Gabe are the guides. Not what we expected, to say the least. Clint a dead look alike to Ned Flanders until he takes off his hat revealing a more Homer Simpson like bald melon and Gabe, the 23 year old anti-corporate America, fish-or-die-youngster greet us in the parking lot.

Fun FACT #2: (From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia) Gabe was born on March 31, 1994. he is currently in 8th grade going on 9th. He has many friends including Ashley M., Salina C., and Jordan R. He is Tall, Funny, and Smart.
hello. this is ashley speaking now. Gabe is the raw deal. i freaking love him. =] ♥♥
Retrieved from "http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gabe"

Justin refuses to ride in a Chevy when there is beefy Ford to style in, so he, the Professor and Clint take off to the boat launch. Joe rides off with Gabe.

On the journey to the launch we learn a little more about the trek we are about to endure. First the bad news, due to the nature of stream fishing, it is difficult to keep two boats together floating down the river at the same time. A) the current is just too difficult to manage and B) there just isn’t enough room for two boats to fish the same fishing hole. So or trio must divide in order to concur.

One… Two… Three… NOT IT… Justin and Joe team up with Gabe and Don heads off on his own with Clint.

Just getting in the boat was an adventure. Justin in front, Joe in the back and Gabe in the middle.


45 minutes into our float down the river we catch up with Don and Gabe. Don already waist deep in the cool river, rod in hand, guide by his side casting into our first fishing hole. It was like a Norman Rockwell photo.

Justin, Joe and Gabe settle in a hundred yards down stream and the fishing begins…

Well, not exactly. The fishing didn’t really take place until multiple attempts to teach Justin the following technique.

Roll cast, flick, mend, mend, drift set the hook….

Ok, your turn Justin… roll cast, flick…
Ok, try again, Justin… roll cast, flick, mend…
Ok, try again Justin… roll cast, flick, mend (so close this time) mend…
Ok, try again Justin… roll cast…
Ok Justin, lets try something else…

So another 45 minutes passes as Gabe tries to get Justin set up all the while Don is fishing just a short way up stream catching a nice trout and Joe sits miserably watching EVERYONE ELSE get to fish. Really not a good start for Joe… nonetheless he is patient…
Justin tries a new technique: rip some line, hold it with your left hand swing your rod around and cast across the river, drift, drift, drift set the hook. Got it?

Good, your turn… Rip some line, hold, swing the rod… snag
Ok, Try again Justin… Rip some line, hold, swing the rod, cast… snag…
Ok, Try again Justin… Rip some line, hold, swing the rod, cast, drift drift drift… no fish but FINALLY we have made fishing!!!

After another 45 minutes of teaching Justin how to cast, Gabe points the bow of the little boat down stream to seek out a spot where our brave fishermen would break their collective Steelhead cherries.

Coming Soon: After Four Trips, Two Fly Rods and Copious Amounts of Kesslers, the Guys Finally Catch a Fish.

But Next Time... Versed: The White Man's Crack.

A City Full of Idiots

That’s not my opinion, that’s the opinion of Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick’s sister, Ayanna Kilpatrick. In a message sent after one of Kilpatrick's cronies lost a special City Council election and bond proposals the mayor supported were defeated, Ayanna texted Christine Beatty on April 29, 2003:

"Long road ahead of us! How do you educate voters in a city full of idiots ...?!"

This is exactly how Team Kilpatrick views the taxpaying citizens and workers in the City of Detroit. To them, you are all just idiots with open wallets; an endless supply of money to fill the gold-lined pockets of Kwame Kilpatrick's family and cronies.

Ayanna headed up the Next Vision Foundation, a charity Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick's family established to help city students. The Charity spent more than half of its money on salaries for three employees: the mayor's sister, his wife Carlita and the wife of one of Kilpatrick's best friends.

More than $395,000 of the $717,000 the foundation raised in 2002 and 2003 from other charities, local businesses, casinos and city contractors was paid to Ayanna Kilpatrick, the mayor's sister, first lady Carlita Kilpatrick and Lisa Cylar Miller.Tax records and interviews show that:

• Ayanna Kilpatrick was paid a $100,966 salary last year, 14 percent more than she received in 2002.
• Carlita Kilpatrick, who had a part-time job doing marketing and event planning, received $22,666 for less than a full year's work in 2003. In 2002, she received $44,231 for her part-time position.

Want more proof?

WXYZ aired a Steve Wilson story revealing that Kilpatrick, his family and a babysitter vacationed at an exclusive southern California spa a couple of years back, with the Kilpatrick Civic Fund, another nonprofit charity founded by the mayor, paying the lion's share of a $10,000 hotel tab. Officials at the fund — which is run by Kilpatrick's sister, Ayanna Kilpatrick, and has Christine Beatty, the mayor's chief of staff, as its treasurer — claimed the mayor was out West trying to raise money for the charity.

City Council is no Better

Watch this YouTube video of a young Detroit Student taking Monica "Do it Baby" Conyers to task for her "Shrek" moment.

So no, Ayanna Kilpatrick, not ALL Detroiters are idiots; just the ones who are members of Team Kilpatrick.

Heart Update: Tomorrow I am going in for a Cardiac Catheterization. Cardiac catheterization is usually performed to evaluate heart valves, heart function and blood supply.

I will be semi- awake and able to follow instructions during the catheterization. A mild sedative is usually given 30 minutes before the procedure to help you relax. The actual procedure may last about an hour, but afterwards, I will be laying on my back for about 5 hours.

After the test, the catheter is removed. Since the IV is placed in my groin, I will need to lie flat on my back for a few hours after the test to avoid bleeding. This may cause some mild back discomfort since this may take up to 5 or 6 hours.

No Driving or Drinking for 48 hours. Next stop: Open heart surgery on the 12th.

I’m hoping to get the last update from the Men’s Fishing Trip from Joe soon. Then I will post some pictures.

A Newlywed Man, A Professor and a Canadian go Fishing

The Men’s Spring Fishing Trip by Joe
Translated by Scott

It was the best of times it was the worst of times. A newlywed man, a professor and a Canadian, three brave fishermen, traveled north to the mighty Pere Marquette River in Baldwin Michigan for the start of the Men’s Spring Fishing trip. Their hearts were heavy as they grieved the absence of their trusty fishing pal who we'll call old-ticker, who, under doctor’s orders was forced to stay home and play an idiotic game of Fishing on his Wii. But their hopes were high of catching an elusive trophy steelhead.

So you could have a profile of Baldwin, I went to Epodunk.com, who specializes in profiling more than 46,000 cities and towns in the United States. This map comes from their site:

Lesson here? Don’t use Epodunk.com because they have no idea what they are writing about.

Many people come to Baldwin Michigan to take in some of the local festivities which include the annual Blessing of the Bikes and the annual Miss Lake County pageant. One notable spot that many tourists visit for a tasty treat on a hot summer day is Mom and Dad's Cone Shoppe. According to Wikipedia, Mom and Dad's has about the biggest one scoop cone that you will ever see.

The Famous Pere Marquette river is named after Father Jacques Marquette (June 1, 1637–May 18, 1675[1]) a French missionary who founded Michigan's first European settlement, Sault Ste. Marie, and later founded St. Ignace, MI. He died of dysentary because Kesslers wouldn't be invented for at least another 200 years or so...

Four fishing trips had been attempted up at the PM, none successful. This year would be the first time we actually asked for help. Our mission: to hire a guide and find out what we’ve been doing wrong all these years.

The crew left the Warren hood at 4:13 PM on a sunny Thursday afternoon. Not long into their trek north came the first stop, Bass Pro Shops. This trip could have been completely avoided if the Canadian would have shared his secret "on-line" fishing license purchase website. Additionally, the only real purpose the newlywed’s newly purchased rain coat served was to ward off any sign of rain at all. And the professor’s polarized sun glasses became more of a fashion statement than an integral fishing tool. Nonetheless, the three enjoyed the stop, which took about an hour longer than it need be.

Apparently our trio was lost without the guidance and decision making ability of old-ticker, who was home noticing there was a hatch going on in his back yard.

Our trio survived the dreaded detour around the haunted open structure Zilwaukee Bridge, a grand monument to the wasteful spending of our hard earned tax money, and eventually landed at a pizza and grinder shop just 30 minutes outside of Baldwin. The sign on the wall read, buy two subs get the third one free. That is unless you purchase and pay for two subs individually in that case you did not buy "two" subs rather two people purchased "one" sub a piece therefore do not qualifying for the "free" third sub. A trick most city folk fall for we assumed. Where was old-ticker to thwart the man's evil sub deception? He was home watching a repeat of Rock of Love II.

Next stop... COLD BEER and breakfast. A simple early evening task? Think again...

Stop one, Wesco gas station... loads of beer, three kinds of pop-tarts, no packet oatmeal (the Canadian wanted stick to your ribs oatmeal...next

Stop two, Gas station up the street from Wesco... loads of beer, same three kinds of pop-tarts but again, no oatmeal ... next

Stop three, grocery store CLOSED

Stop four, Only gestation left in town, same loads of beer, same three kinds of pop-tarts, still no oatmeal... frustrated, our trio purchases beer, pop-tarts, ice-cream, peanut butter (a fishing trip staple) coffee cream, water, coffee filters and ice... we almost left without the ice.

DID YOU KNOW? In 1971, a cartoon character named Milton the Toaster was introduced to promote Pop-Tarts. The campaign ended when a commercial showed a child hugging the toaster, leading to complaints that children might imitate the commercial and burn themselves. True story.

When you are single, the dizzy air headedness of women can sometimes be endearing, at least temporarily. When you get married, you find that they become all too annoying and you wonder why you even talk to them at all. Consider the conversation our newlywed had with the female clerk at on of the gas stations:

Newly Wed: Do you have water Whack Job: What do you think is in the coolers
Newly Wed: No, I mean large jugs of water
Whack Job: You walked right by it
Newly Wed: Um...ok, how are the steelhead biting
Whack Job: Pretty good, but you folks should try the Tippy Damn
Newly Wed: Really, what are they biting on
Whack Job: Some yellow fuzz and a hook

A small debate occurs, do we trust the Canadian's keen tracking abilities and sense of direction,(some call it the Spirit of the North, others call it JustinJustin) or do we trust the professor's high tech global positioning system to find the trout post... Good for our trio we had both.

The instant our trio hit dirt road... crack fizz, crack fizz, crack fizz... three delicious beers never tasted so good.

Scared out of his mind the newlywed unlocks the trout post door and creeps down into the dark spider infested basement to switch on the electricity... Normally this is old-ticker's job, which we totally too for granted all those years.

With the lights are on and the all wheel drive Subaru unpacked and sleeping arrangements accounted for (the Canadian claims the master suite, the newlywed claims the empty bed room and the professor claims the couch, because he is the boss and doesn’t want anyone to step on his head if they get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom (The Office reference)). The trio settle in for the night sipping 12 year old scotch, drinking India pale ale and lamenting about years past when there fellow brethren had also made the trip with them.

Next Time: BEEP BEEP BEEP 6:00 AM time to go fishing...

White Man seeking Mechanical Heart Valve and Presidential Candidate

First, something to make your blood boil.

Recently, Nora Ephron wrote in her Huffington Post blog:

This is an election about whether the people of Pennsylvania hate blacks more than they hate women. And when I say people, I don't mean people, I mean white men. How ironic is this? After all this time, after all these stupid articles about how powerless white men are and how they can't even get into college because of overachieving women and affirmative action and mean lady teachers who expected them to sit still in the third grade even though they were all suffering from terminal attention deficit disorder -- after all this, they turn out (surprise!) to have all the power. (As they always did, by the way; I hope you didn't believe any of those articles.)

(the) outcome of the general election will depend on whether enough of them (white males) vote for McCain. A lot of them will: white men cannot be relied on, as all of us know who have spent a lifetime dating them. And McCain is a compelling candidate,
particularly because of the Torture Thing. As for the Democratic hope that McCain's temper will be a problem, don't bet on it. A lot of white men have terrible tempers, and what's more, they think it's normal.

Seems like the Democrats have chosen who the “Big Bad” is for this election: White Men.

Expect to see more like this in the coming months as we get closer to election time.

A couple of heart updates:

First, I decided to go with the mechanical valve over the bovine. Mechs (as the cool heart patients call them) last far longer than animal tissue. The only drawback is that I have to take Coumadin for the rest of my life. Every week I will need to test my blood to make sure the coagulation level is correct. Because I am on this “blood thinner” I will need to be careful about what I do to avoid serious cuts or internal bleeding. Excessive amounts of alcohol are out.

Meaning the days I did a keg stands after the rugby matches are long gone.

The alternative would be the animal valve, which I would have to get replaced every ten years.

I’ll give up the rugby matches.

Secondly, after I made the decision to go with mechanical, the rollercoaster ride began. Just this morning I met with my surgeon. We went over the details of the operation, the risks and the recovery period.

As I wrote before, the incision won’t be as long. Typically it’s around 6 – 9 inches; mine will be around 3 inches. It’s going to take me roughly six weeks to recover; possibly eight. I certainly won’t be able to drive till around week five.

Overall, it will be a good six months till I am fully recovered. I’m shooting for an early October Fall Fishing Trip, depending on how my rehab goes. Keep those dates open. Preferably someplace we can get a pontoon boat or something comfortable as I probably still won’t be 100% yet.

Then came the big moment for me: setting the date for my open heart surgery:

Monday, May 12….Roughly two weeks from now.

Once the rollercoaster ride starts moving, you can’t get off.

Next stop: Cardiac Catheterization or You’re going to put WHAT through my Groin?


NOTE: I will have an update on last week’s Fishing trip probably later this weekend. Promise. Joe sent in Part I of his report and as soon as I am finished formatting it, I will put it up.

Fear and Loathing in the Democrat Party

The contempt that the liberal academic elite feel toward normal, working class Americans is beginning to become all to evident. Barak Obama’s recent remarks on the “bitter” working class people of Pennsylvania is a crack in the glossy façade that threatens to unveil the true “wizards” behind the curtain of the Democrat Party.

Huffington Post political Editor, Thomas Edsall, in his recent blog: On Course for Another White Guy Election, wrote:

(Hillary) Clinton has set the stage for an election in which a crucial voting block will once again be white men, and the issues will be those that tend to push these voters to the right, towards the Republican Party, regardless of which Democrat is the nominee.

Those issues of course being themes like patriotism, gun control, terrorist threats, intimidation (reverse racism) by a black preacher, and a 3AM phone call signaling enemy attack.

The article is posted alongside this photo of the type of “White Men” Edsall must envision make up the bitter, gun toting, god-fearing, law abiding population that want only to bring down Obama because he is black or vote against their best interests simply because they are too ignorant to realize it.

Imagine if someone were to write a blog about work habits of Mexican Immigrants and posted this picture along with the article.


Further on in his blog he writes:

“Just last year, Democratic political scientist Thomas F. Schaller was breathing a sigh of relief over the prospect that white men were a steadily diminishing factor in the political landscape. In an essay titled "So long, white boy" published September 17, 2007 on Salon, Schaller wrote:

"The Democratic obsession with the down-home, blue-collar, white male voter,that heartbreaker who crossed the aisle to the Republicans many decades ago, may finally be coming to a merciful end....it's a waste of time and resources for the Democrats to pursue them -- a classic sucker's bet....Democrats finally seem to realize that cultural contortionism in the pursuit of Bubba produces little more than smiles on the faces of Republican consultants."

You can read the entire blog here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/04/22/on-course-for-another-whi_n_97965.html

Both Edsall and now Schaller are of the group whose self esteem must really be the pits that they feel the need to look down their noses at us and tell us we are wrong, but just to ignorant to realize it. These are the upper echelon of Democrat Party Members who live in their small academic worlds, filled with disgust for you and me. To them, patriotism is jingoistic, guns are to be feared, going to church is like believing in the flying spaghetti monster, and laws should not be followed if you are anything other than a white male.

Remember that come election time. McCain is not perfect. Hell, I voted for Ron Paul in the primary because I wanted to teach the Republicans a lesson. But four years of Democrats in the White House may make the entire nation similar to Berkeley, where elected officials voted to remove the Armed Forces station from the city limits.

Back to the photo, if it was meant to characterize the “mentality” of white male voters, to those on the left that feel superior because they can tell the difference between a Fork and Spork, it may have a different result.

To me, these two fellows, based on looks alone, look pretty happy. They obviously don’t need a Prius as a status symbol or feel the need to spend $5 on a latte at Starbucks when a $1.25 jumbo Papst Blue Ribbon will do just as well. If I had the choice to hang out with “intellectuals” like Edsell or these two, I’d pull up a seat on the porch any day.

They probably know where all the good fishing holes are too.

For those of you interested, Tom Edsell is the author of Chain Reaction and Building Red America. Tom can be reached at edsall@huffingtonpost.com.

From the Heart: I've made my decision on heart valves. I'm going with the St. Jude Mechanical Valve. I'll tell you why later. For now, the next step is contacting my surgeon and getting the process in motion. It's now only a matter of time.

Next Time: More White Man Bashing or the Democrats Current Talking Points.

Artificial or Live Bait?

During this time of the year I'm usually picking out new lures for my tackle box. Instead I'm trying to make the decision on whether to go with an artificial heart valve or one made from animal skin.

As with lures, do I go with artificial or live bait?

Kelly and I went to see my surgeon for the first time last Thursday. A couple of things came from that meeting:

1) Seems like I'm going to need the operation sooner rather than later. Already knew this, but the time frame is now 1 - 1 1/2 months.

2) I may not need as invasive of surgery as previously thought. Here is picture of what open heart surgery would have looked like:

Not pretty. That would have been revenge for all those fish I filleted over the years. Now, my Doc may be able to operate in a less than invasive procedure, which will hasten my recovery time and leave me with less pain. Instead of feeling like I've been run over by a locomotive, it will now feel like I've been run over by a Prius.

3)I can't eat sushi. Seriously. Well...I could eat sushi, but no soy sauce, not even the low sodium stuff which still has something like pound of salt in a teaspoon. When I asked my Doc about what type of diet I should be looking at, of all the foods he could have named, he said "No Sushi."

No Fishing trip...no sushi. I smell a conspiracy here.

Finally, back to choosing lures. Right now my only decision is choosing the right heart valve.

If I go with mechanical as seen here, It lasts upwards of 30 years, but I will have to be on Coumadin the rest of my life. Its an anti-coagulant that helps stop blood clots from forming. Blood clots lead to stroke. Plus, I would have to stop any physical activity that would lead to internal bleeding, so my days as a professional rugby player would be over.

If I go with a bovine valve, (the donor seen on the left), I won't need the Coumadin necessarily, but the valve is only good for 10 - 15 years max. Meaning I would have to undergo another operation to get that replaced.

I don't like going to the dentist so having to schedule an OHS every ten years will not make me a happy camper.

I am seeking two second opinions this week I've contacted the Cleveland Clinic and University of Michigan. We'll see if they get back to me; if not, then I will make the decision by Friday. Next step, actually setting the date for the operation.

Next Time: Justin's near-record steelhead: Hoax or Fish of a Lifetime?

BREAKING!: The Hippos Ass has obtained actual photos of the fishing trip and will post them soon. Stay tuned.

Outta My Thursday Moaning Mind...

The Hippo’s Ass read that Detroit Assistant Police Chief Dunlap is a proud owner of a Green Team Kilpatrick Jacket. Word on the street is he wears it even during meetings with Police Reserves.

Looks like The Detroit City Council finally grew a pair. Even though three members of the Council seem to be firmly in the back pocket of Team Kilpatrick (the Tiara wearing Barbara Rose Collins, Monica “DO IT, BABY! DO IT!” Conyers and Martha “I’m just famous” Reeves), the Majority decided not to entertain Mayor Kilpatrick’s grandstanding and firmly dismissed the Mayor when he arrived to present his budget. The council did their due-diligence and accepted the written budget, which is all they really need to do.

Apparently I’m a bitter person because I own two guns, go to church and believe that illegal immigrants should follow the laws of our country. Fancy that! Barak “The next President of the United States” Obama is a typical academic elitist liberal. We are just too stupid to realize that he is right. Anyone else think his posters look similar to Communist Propaganda posters from the Stalin era? You decide.

I hope Joe, Don, Justin and Chris all catch some fish up at the Pere Marquette River this weekend. The only thing worse than not being able to go is having them not catch anything up there.

Going to pull the boat out of my garage this weekend (with a little help because I can’t pull or lift anything right now). I need to get the throttle fixed now before I get laid up. The engine needs a tune-up as well. When we go Up North in August, I want it water ready. No telling what shape I will be in at the time so it needs to be easy to start and use as possible.

Speaking of boats…remember that couple that disappeared a while back and their boat was found abandoned in Lake Huron with the motor running? There is a mighty strange rumor floating around the internet about these two and a connection with a certain “Strawberry”. More later….

From the Heart: My first appointment with my Surgeon was today. I'll give an update tomorrow because it might be a little long.

Next Time: A Heart Update unless Kwame and the CLownsil do something stupid again.

Is this how you "represent" Detroit?

What the Frak is going on?!?!?

Yup...You guessed it. That is the "Queen" herself, Detroit Councilwoman Barbara Rose Collins at a council meeting Monday to discuss Mayor Kilpatrick's budget scheme. She came to the meeting wearing a tiara because it was her Birthday over the weekend.

Welcome to the City Clownsil Circus of Detroit.

You will remember that Barbara Rose Collins is the council member who insulted philanthropists in Metro Detroit, calling their volunteerism on Detroit-based non-profit boards, a "Slave-Master mentality" because they dared to live in the suburbs but were willing to help out the needy in Detroit.

Collins, according to the Metro Times, once held a fundraiser in a strip club, shortly after firing an aide for being gay.

When the Detroit Zoological Society offered to take control over the ailing Detroit Zoo and help relieve some of the City's financial burden, Collins voted against it saying, "This is not a plantation. Black people are no longer owned by white people."

Then there is this nice little ditty:

The Greater Corktown Development Corp had presented the City Council a list of nine Corktown residents it wanted on the Citizens District Council to help direct the (Tiger Stadium) project. But the initial list was rejected due to complaints because there were too many white people on it. Of the proposed members, six were white, two were Hispanic and one was black.

"I don't like that list," City Councilwoman Barbara-Rose Collins said at a council meeting.... "I would not approve any CDC that is all white in a city that is 90 percent black, even though the location is Corktown, and there's a lot of white people in that area."

As a taxpayer to the City of Detroit I don't like the fact that City Clownsil and the Mayor can misspend my money anyway they please but they won't give me any representation for my taxation. So there.

No wonder Southeast Michigan has trouble luring world-classed businesses to the City. When they look at the council and see one of its members dressed like a 7 year old girl, they must shake their heads in wonder.

From the Heart: Good news! The appointment with my surgeon has been moved up to this week. It was originally scheduled for early May. Now I won't have to wait so long. Check back later this week for an update.

Next Time: Revenge of Shrek, or How Some City Council Members Finally Grew Some.

YO! Big Bro is Watching You!

As if wasting $8.4 million of Detroit Taxpayers money wasn’t enough, the embattled Mayor of Detroit has created his own version of the Ministry of Truth from the novel 1984.

The Kwame Kilpatrick administration, or as they refer to themselves, “Team Kilpatrick”, complete with matching green jackets, has hired a Media Watch company to patrol television news reports, radio stations, print media and the internet for any “biased” reporting on Kilpatrick’s perjury, obstruction of justice conspiracy and conduct unbecoming of a public official.

George Orwell is spinning in his grave.

So since this media watch company searches by key words and full names, let me just say this:

Kwame Kilpatrick, you are a fool and a crook. Resign now you big dummy!

Team Kilpatrick’s Ministry of Truth is headed up by his hired PR person, “Minister of Truth” Denise Tolliver who has already admonished a Florida TV station for reporting a 20 second story on the Mayors crooked deeds. Apparently reporting the truth is “biased”.

Seems like Kilpatrick can’t spend this taxpayer’s money fast enough, huh?

Michigan’s economy is bad enough as it is and we would hate for Minister Tolliver to lose her job, so I will be featuring a Team Kilpatrick Minute in each of my blogs. As long I use his complete name, I’ll be sure that Team Kilpatrick is reading this and keeping Tolliver busy. Since I pay taxes, but am not allowed a voice on Council or a vote (Taxation without Representation), this may be my only way to voice my discontent with the crooks and cronies running the City of Detroit.

Meanwhile, the City Clouncil is doing its best to make Detroit the butt of jokes.

After shouts of “You’re not my Daddy, don’t disrespect me! and Do it Baby! Do it!” Detroit Clowncilwoman Monica Conyers degraded the City of Detroit further by calling Clouncil President Cockrel “Shrek”. I don’t know about you, but Shrek was pretty lovable.

See the verbal exchange here:



Maybe Monica Conyers sees herself as Donkey. Donkey was pretty annoying, but also lovable and there is nothing lovable about Conyers. Regardless, she’s certainly making a “Donkey” of herself if you get my drift.

Monica Conyers: this week’s Hippos Ass Award Recipient.

Heart Update: I have an appointment with my surgeon for May 6th to discuss next steps. That's the first available slot, but I'm on a wait list if there is an opening.

Crossroads

There is a Philip K. Dick story about a man who wakes to find that terrorists placed a bomb in his chest. At any moment he could explode.

A month and a half ago I was ok. I was healthy. Plans for the summer were being made. There was a vacation with my wife to Lake Cumberland in May. We were going to rent a houseboat for a week. This year’s Spring Fishing Trip with my buddies was going to be up at the Pere Marquette River in Michigan. It was time to pull the old Glassmaster boat out of the garage and get it ready for walleye fishing on the Detroit River. The garden needed tilling.

But I wasn’t healthy. I wasn’t ok. I was inching closer and closer to a massive coronary heart attack and didn’t even know it. I was on the way to being one of those people you hear about: “He seemed perfectly healthy then one day, boom, heart attack, at such a young age.”

Back to the bomb in my chest. Damn Terrorists. I’m more conscious about my heart beat. I can FEEL it beating now more than ever. Right now I have a 50% chance of having a heart attack in the next two years.

When my cardiologist told me it wasn’t a good idea to go fishing and to put a limit on what I do, it finally hit home. No Fishing Trip. No vacation with my wife. No getting the boat ready. No gardening. No exercising. No excessive climbing of stairs. No heavy lifting, no stress etc, etc, etc…And this is just BEFORE my operation.

Although something is different, I’m still the same person. But I have different plans now to deal with.

I’d hate to put the pressure on my wife and my friends, having something happen to me in the middle of the woods, with little cell phone coverage, more than 30 minutes away from any major health facility. So, on the advice of my doctor, I’m going to put off many of my plans.

A little inconvience now ensures that I have many more chances to enjoy vacations with my wife and family, fishing trips with my friends, and many more chances to see my garden in bloom.


I don't want this blog to be a Whoa is me Blog. I just wanted to get this out there. But I promise to keep you updated as things progress. And should you be going through the same thing, drop me a line...I'd love to hear your story.

Especially if you really DO have a bomb in your chest.

Since I can't go fishing, I guess I'll try frying some bigger fish.

Next Time: Team Kilpatrick’s Ministry of Truth, or Yo! Big Bro Got the Peeps on You!

Aortic Stenosis: 12th Cylon?

According to Wikipedia, Aortic Stenosis is a valvular heart disease caused by the incomplete opening of the aortic valve.

Major causes and predisposing conditions of aortic stenosis include acute rheumatic fever and bicuspid aortic valve. As individuals age, calcification of the aortic valve may occur and result in stenosis. This is especially likely to occur in people with a bicuspid aortic valve, but also occurs in the setting of perfectly normal valves as a result of age-induced 'wear and tear'.

Wikipedia is the best thing ever. Anyone in the world can write anything they want about any subject, so you know you are getting the best possible information.

Michael Scott The Office

Apparently I had a mild form of rheumatic fever when I was younger. The fevers were attributed to tonsillitis and stopped when my tonsils were removed.

I also have a mild regurgitation. Dave had regurgitation once, but that was due to small woodland creatures. Mine is basically backwash in my heart chamber.

I hate backwash. When I was younger, my brother Dean would purposely backwash into a bottle of pop just so that he could claim the rest of the pop for himself. Little bits of food floating to the top would gross me out.

There is also a Battlestar Galactica wiki here: http://en.battlestarwiki.org/wiki/Main_Page

The 12th Cylon (WARNING: HERE THERE BE SPOILERS)

The first Hybrid gives a monologue about his knowledge of the Final Five in the extended version of "Razor". It states that "...the fifth is still is in shadow, drawn toward the light, hungering for redemption, that will only come in the howl of terrible suffering."
I think the key word here is redemption.

My guess: Tom Zarek. He is also portrayed by actor Richard Hatch, who portrayed the original Apollo in the Original Series. “…this has happened before and will happen again.”

Next Time…Finding Out You Are a Toaster, or Why I Can’t Go Fishing.

You Can't Spell HEART Without the HA

We can Rebuild him...We have the Technology...Better...Stronger...Faster.

My first real experience with blogging was when I wrote to a newspaper in response to the cancellation of the Six Million Dollar Man. Back then there weren't any blogs or entertainment sites on the Internet to give us an update that a show was gone. It just disappeared from the TV. Honestly, I thought the original Battlestar Galactica was on for three years. It only had 21 episodes. (We won't talk about Galactica 1980. Ever.)

I even had the Six Million Dollar Man action figure. There was even the space capsule that turned into an operating table. The action figure had a telescopic eye, the skin peeled back on one of the arms to reveal circuitry.

Don't know whatever happened to that figure. Probably sold it at a garage sale for $1. Its worth about $100 now.

In a few short weeks (probably), I'll be on my way to becoming the bionic man. However, I'm not getting the cool eye or super strong legs.

I'm getting an artificial heart valve.

Without it, I may be dead in five years.

I've used this space in the past to poke fun at members of the Blue Hippo Fantasy Football League. But now, I'm going to use this blog to talk about my experience with Heart Valve Replacement, you know...fun stuff.

Imagine being 39 years old and finding out that your heart is defective and has been your entire life. Go into the Doctors office for a routine physical, come out needing to have your chest cracked open and some doctor putting a fake valve in your heart.

Right at the start of Fishing Season. Yeah....Frakkin A it sucks.

But I imagine there are others out that may benefit from my experience. So, I hope this helps you in some way. If it does, drop me a line.

Tomorrow...Aortic Stenosis, Medical Condition or the 12th Cylon