5, er 6 days, a trip and an opportunity *part 1*

I know there's a few people out there that have been waiting with baited breath for me to post here over the past few days. In fact, some have ever emailed, sent texts and IM'd me asking "When are you posting!" or something to that effect. Let me start with an apology for being so very far behind here, I had a hell of a weekend starting Thursday evening all the way through to Sunday evening and then Monday was a wash in attempting to even log into this little ditty. So, sorry for that, I didn't realize there were that many loyal followers, as I can see only 9 listed. Really need to work on upping that count...hmmm, marketing strategy and challenge?

So, I started writing this yesterday, Tuesday the 25th, and now that I'm on the train with 30 minutes to spare, I'm actually going to try and finish it. There's just so much to talk about in the last 5 days since my last post that I'm guaranteeing now that there's no way I can come close to covering it all, and as I caveat this reality, I realize I'm wasting time instead of getting into it. Here goes...

Thursday night following another long day of work in the dungeon, Jackson and I got back to the apartment around 6:30. Knowing that we had an early flight out the next morning, our military tactical approach to completing everything that needed to be done prior to leaving, went into effect. We walked in the door, Jackson ran straight to his room for two arms full of trucks and his monkey and came sprinting (litterally) back to the living room while I turned up some water in a pot in the kitchen. He made his way to the couch, arms still full at this point, and began the herculean task of getting up onto it without asking for help. One by one, race car after truck after duck, fell to the floor. With each loss from his arms began another attempt at getting up there. By the third try, yes I sat back and watched his effort, he started tossing each toy individually up onto the couch, making sure they were all retrievable once he finally got settled in. Now completed he turned to me with a huge satisfactory smile and said "Up?" and raised his arms. Looking my right in the eyes, he repeated his request for me to lift him up to the couch and I couldn't help but smile realizing he was tired of the failed attempts and really just wanted to be reunited with his valued toys. He needed my help. I walked over and simply asked, "Are you sure you can't do this one by yourself?" and with a quick tilt of the head as he thought about this question, at least I like to believe that's what he was doing, he turned back to the couch, threw both arms up onto the cushion, and began his assent. One little pull after pull, he decided to use the ottoman with his feet to help him finish the climb. One foot, then the other, pushing with his feet and pulling with his hands, he was finally up on the couch. I swear it was like watching the final 20 feet of a climbers assent at K2, he was pumped and smiling wide, and I cheered his victory like a baseball game. Jackson in his glory suddenly stopped smiling as he looked at the dark screen of the tv, turned his gaze back to me and said "Cars? Cars". Like any great parent (HA) I turned up the TV and pushed play on the DVD player, Pixar's "Cars" may never leave the DVD player again.

So the list continued from there; I got dinner done with relative ease, started the first of three loads of laundry, ran a bath for Jack, teeth brushed, sat on the potty, jammies, changed out laundry for load #2, read a book in a race car bed to my little man, argued about bed time, switched loads again (#3), went back to calm down my over-tired-crying for daddy- upset-now crying for mommy toddler (this went on past 10 pm), gave in to another sippie cup of milk (finally did the trick), folder laundry, packed 1 suitcase and whew...11:00 pm Thursday night and I think I can go to bed now. Bah, did I remember enough sippie cups? Diapers and Wipes for my carry on? Jackson's birth certificate? Movies for the plane ride? In my head the list kept getting longer and I started to kind of freak out a little bit. Remember, I'm not the guy who like to have to plan or get things organized. I'm usually running out the door, with a half packed backpack, just trying to make a flight and replace what I forgot when I get there. Can't do that with an infant, and so my 11:00 pm calm of getting to sleep turned into my head finally hitting the pillow at 12:30 am with an alarm set for 4:30 am and the thinking in my head that I'm probably going to oversleep... so now I can't sleep. I don't know exactly what time I finally fell asleep after worrying about oversleeping but out of the dark of the morning, my alarm hit the first beep and I jumped out of my skin and subsequently my bed, and hit the shower. Out the door by 5:15, we were on schedule and on our way.

The airport is always an interesting experience, it's never easy and it's never without some sort of hurdle to get over. This time was like every other time but actually not as stressful as expected it to be. Off site parking, jump in the shuttle with the stroller, 1 suitcase thingy on wheels, my laptop bag, a talking walking baby and his goldfish crackers. One of the first times I remember him being in a vehicle without a car seat and he was pretty stoked, getting to look out the window at all the lights and seeing airplanes taking off, one after the other. Out of the shuttle, into the stroller and making our way to the elevator. Pretty seamless at this point. Across the sky bridge and into the ticketing terminal, and there it was, the first sign of "oh shit"! The line for Southwest was around the corner from the counter and people were looking like they just might die waiting in this line. Even the people who had already printed boarding passes and just needed to check luggage were doing the "pee pee" dance, afraid to get out of line to use the restroom in fears they may never get through to their flight. Of course, I have my blackbelt in airport planning and we had just under 2 hours to make our flight. When we finally made it to the roped area of the ticket counter, there was a Southwest employee helping people get in the right lane. He took one look at Jackson relaxing and looked at me and said, "Is he a lap dog"? Really, did he just ask if my son was a lap dog? I hesitated for a moment, searching for the patience and the words that weren't going to keep me from making my flight. I looked him straight in the eyes and said calmly but irritated, "Excuse Me"? to which he replied, "is he a lap child"? and it finally hit me, he was asking if Jackson was sitting on my lap or have his own seat on our flight, not that I think it made any difference in what lane we were in to check in, but I realized how uptight I was that morning, not the calm and assertive mode I needed to be in. Near blow up averted, we finally got checked in and headed to the security checkpoint with 45 minutes until our flight was ready to leave. I'll spare you the details on the rest of the airport or flight or arrival at our destination, it was a cakewalk and fairly uninteresting.

By the way, that last paragraph and these subsequent words were written Thursday, yes, it's taking me 3 days to write this week. Not the norm but hell, it's been busy, and there's been so much going on both personally and professionally that staying on top of this piece has fallen down the priority chain.

So Friday in Boise is rad, there's so much to do and yet, it's one of the first times I've visited in a long time where I didn't feel stressed out to get things done. Very small agenda compared to most trips out of town and it all started with a tattoo appointment with my man Sean at Black Cat Tattoo at 4:00 pm. Sean started a piece on me last September, that for almost a year had been nothing more than an outline and shading on my left bicep. That's the problem with having one person you trust to work on you, living 8 hours a way by land or $200+ by air. Interestingly enough, there's no sea travel from Seattle to Boise, guess there's always the rail too though. Anyway, the previously mentioned outline originally took about 3 hours to do and this visit was just slightly short of that. From about 4:15 to just after 7:00 pm, Sean worked his genius as he added color after color to my FooDog, and there were no breaks. The bicep area is a damn fun place to get tattooed, and when I say fun, of course I'm being facetious cause it sucks! I though my legs were bad, but the inside bicep and most of that area are pretty gnarly, especially close to the armpit. When I left, my left arm was bruised in a few places and swollen from the hours of inking. I think I had a 21 inch python for a bicep on the left arm with the full 14 inches on the right... Yeah, it was pretty funny and the color is amazing. 6 days later and it's healing really fast. I think being somewhat tan before being tattooed helps speed up the healing process. I could be wrong and have no scientific evidence that this is the case but it seems to be the story, for me at least.

Got back to my folks house to find my son and mom in a trance while watching "Cars", almost incoherent to my return to the stable. We had a quick chat, I made some phone calls, changed my clothes, and went out the door for a "brief" night out with my brother and some very near and dear friends from back in the day. An early start means an early night, right? Good intentions often lead to the opposite when you hit the first bar at 8:30, and so this story goes. By 9:00 my friend and major league baseball pitcher, Rick, arrived at 'Opa' and I think we were already on our second round between my brother and his lady friend and I. Now Rick is a guy that everyone should have as a friend, he's straight up, like to party and has no problem telling you any story you want to hear, maybe even some you'd rather not hear, but at the end of the night, you're stoked you got to hang out and can't wait to do it again. He's also 6'6" which definitely makes you feel that much shorter when you're standing in at 5'11" on a pilates day. Over the next hour, friend after friend arrived on the patio of Opa and drinks came and came and came. We were all feeling pretty good as we made our way into the downtown Boise nightlife around 11:00 and I'm not entirely sure where we next but there were probably 3 or 4 more bars that we hit up before we heard last call at some place filled with babies. It was one of the first bars in recent memory where I felt old and creepy, being surrounded by kids barely 21 and looking around at guys much older than me, talking up a storm. Did I just mention I actually heard "last call" at this place... damn, there goes my early night and well, the whole idea that I wasn't drinking too much Friday night also went out the window when Rick showed up. Every time I turned around it seemed like he was either asking me what I wanted or was already handing me another giant something or other. I think the entire night cost me like 20 bucks as my over generous friend kept picking up tab after tab, makes me wish I had some Major League money, right? A huge thanks goes to Ricky, we had a killer night, met some cool new friends as we hoped from bar to bar, and we all made it home in one piece. Even Jo, who took a cab instead of letting me get him there. Probably the right call

So, that's all I can muster out right now, tomorrow will have Saturday and Sunday and all the rest, as there is plenty to tell but I know two things at this moment that are leading to this:
1- If it's too long, you'll never read it
2- I'm freaking tired of typing right now and if I start into Saturday, it'll be next week by the time I publish it.
And since this piece probably isn't as funny or witty as I think I normally am, you all might just stop reading it all together anyway, right?

Stay blessed and hydrated-