Cody, the KILLER!!!

Look at the cute doggie on the left here! His name is Cody. I believe it will be one year this week that we picked him up from the doggie rescue in DC. (Picking anyone up and getting them out of DC is a rescue any day in my book, but that's another blog post) He is originally from North Carolina, and I think it's in his blood to be a bit of a red neck. If Cody were a human, I think he'd own a rifle. When we first found out about Cody, we were actually calling about his sister. The people at the shelter told us she was taken, but they said he has a brother. So I made an appointment to see Cody at the foster home. When I first saw him, he was really skinny, and somewhat frail. Scared? Well, I guess depressed is what I can say. Look at the picture to the right. This is the week we picked up Cody. We were at the playground, and even though Alex is kind of hugging Cody, the somber demeanor of the moment was his general demeanor for the first few months. (Look how bright blue his collar is; not these days!) So as the months went by, we made friends with Cody, fattened him up a bit (can't see his ribs now!) And we have taken him to the beach and let him run. Sad thing is from May thru September, no dogs allowed on the beach/boardwalk in Ocean City. But throughout the summer we would go to all sorts of rural parks in Frederick County. And we would let him run loose to get his jollies as all good dogs should. And every night I take him to the local park, which is kind of a clandestine dog park. If there are no kids or events happening, quite often people bring their dogs by and let them run loose. And the cops drive right by and don't say anything. So when I take him for a walk, we go about a quarter mile from the main road, and I let him run through a stand of trees to chase rabbits and squirrels. Because, hey, he is a dog and that is what he does!

Look to the left. They look cute, don't they? But they are not. In the tree-lined neighborhoods of Montgomery County, there are a million of them. Really, I counted. One Million Squirrels. And .1% live above and around my house. Whenever I take Cody for a walk, he always gets his ears up, and tugs at the leash, trying to go after the squirrels. And from time to time, I decide not to be a slug, and I will actually run with him to "get" the squirrels. But in all this time we've had Cody, whether we have let him loose, or he's been on the leash, he has never caught a squirrel. I believed he was into it just for the sport of it. So yesterday, the whole family was saddling up to go for a walk to the park. I came outside and saw these 2 squirrels fighting around the neighbor's oak tree, both of them looking fat from acorns (we've got a million of those in our yard...from the neighbor's tree!) As I walked around the side of the house to get Cody, I muttered under my breath, a comment directed at the squirrels. I absentmindedly said, "Frickin' squirrels, you better GTF out before I bring my dog and he tears you apart." I mean, it was me living the comedy life in my mind. And at that A) I would never let Cody off the leash this close to the road B) If I ran with Cody at the squirrels, he could only go as fast as me, and I know I am not fast enough to catch a squirrel. So I get Cody out of the backyard, onto the retractable leash, and I walk toward the sidewalk to begin towards the park. But lo, and behold, the 2 squirrels are sitting on the sidewalk by the neighbor's house. Cody's ears are up to the sky, the hair on his back was standing up. But the 2 squirrels just sat there, oblivious to the human and the dog, the true masters of the urban jungle. So in order to let Cody calm down before we began the walk in earnest, I thought we'd bull-rush the squirrels, and they'd take the hint and take off, and that would be the end of it. Now remember, I was never a fast runner, so I'm thinking this will amount to nothing. We move forward, and Cody immediately takes the cue. And the 2 squirrels just sit there like 2 dumbasses. Next thing you know, CODY HAS ONE IN HIS F***ING MOUTH!!! All I can think is OMFG!

I am in a panic. This went from a few seconds of sport, to an actual tangle of fur flying at the end of the leash I am holding. Cody has the thing by the back thigh, and he is shaking his head left to right and the squirrel is writhing around! Anyone who knows me, knows that about a month ago I was bitten by a dog and the lady and the dog took off from the scene. And so now I am gun shy with just the thought of rabies. I can NOT believe this squirrel didn't get away, and I am starting to think maybe he is sick i.e. rabid.

At that moment he breaks Cody's grip and can now get away. Then some more thoughts run through my head:
Q: What happens if he bites Cody? A: Cody has his shots for Rabies.
Q: What happens if the squirrel is on the loose? A: There is now a rabid squirrel on the loose.

Conclusion: There must be something wrong with this animal.

Mind you all of this is happening in a 2 or 3 second period. If I did nothing, Cody would have regrouped and gone after the squirrel. The burden was on me to pull Cody away, and get him away from the squirrel. But I am now panicked and don't want to "turn my back on the threat". I mean, I pictured this squirrel now going beserk in its own right, and getting all pissed off, and transforming into a bigger, muscle bound squirrel with a green hue out looking for vengeance. I mean, that is what rabid animals do, don't they?

Before I could think twice, it was like Cody and I were of the same mind. He wanted that squirrel, and by God, I'd let him finish what he started. From what I could see of the squirrel at this point, part of his tail was taken off, and he appeared to be really gorged from acorns (one would presume). So Cody zeros in, and clamps right down on this fat-ass squirrel. I mean, his grip is perfect. He then starts to shake the squirrel back and forth in his mouth in earnest. At this point the adrenaline dies down a bit, and I am no longer in "the silence" that occurs as a result of an adrenaline rush. I hear my wife screaming, "Oh my GOD! Does Cody have a SQUIRREL?"

Let us pause here for a Garrison Keillor moment. Slowly read this in a languid manner, much like everyone's favorite companion on the Home Prairie. Because a moment of awareness was then upon me. In the world inside my mind, I had just experienced a veritable spasm of neurons. Neurons firing, firing, firing...and decisions that had to be made. Arguably life and death decisions. This squirrel could have been a carrier of one of the most terrible animal borne diseases after bubonic plague. This is the frame of mind I had been in. But, as I saw my wife standing there, her face aghast, it was like waking from a dream. And there too, were my children, the children I wanted to shield from this diseased, and now deranged squirrel. Then I turned back to my loyal companion, my golden retriever, yellow lab, German shepherd mix. And there he was, his jaws clamped down around the squirrel, shaking his head back and forth.

Those of you who have children, you perhaps can think back to a moment that brought your parenthood into bright uplands. I recall a story where a friend of mine took her 6 year old son to the woods with his new bicycle, and he spent a good hour riding up and down a series of little hills in these woods. Hills much like a bike motocross track. And from what this mother told me, he was quite good at it. When they got done, the boy walked up to his mother and said, "Mommy, I love Jesus first, but I love you the most for taking me here." I forgot about that story for years, until I pictured Cody in my head, with the squirrel in his mouth, shaking it back and forth. And then the moment when, with squirrel in mouth, he looked me right in the eye. Because at that moment, I believe he did love Jesus first, but he loved me the most for allowing him to shake living shit out of one of those pesky neighborhood squirrels. And for that, I loved him.

(Garrison Keillor mode: "off")

Cody dropped the squirrel as we began our walk. And the squirrel was just lying there. My wife suggested that at some point, I put it out of its misery. I said I would get the BB gun and do so if he was there when we got back. Surprisingly, when we got back he was gone. I think he was just stunned and gathered his wits, and ran away. But another part of me thinks, much like the Viet Cong, his buddies came and dragged his body away. Dragged it into one of the nearby tunnel entrances, just so we wouldn't be able to know one way or the other the fate of the deranged fat-ass squirrel.

First Day of School

All Summer long my wife and I had been churning our guts about where Alex was supposed to be going to school. He was 5 in February, and this Fall, he would be starting Kindergarten. For those of you just tuning in, Alex has autism.

He has been in some sort of County program in one form or another since 18 months 0ld. Back then, we were concerned that he was not yet speaking. So we had the County send some people down from the Infants and Toddlers program to work with Alex. He went into an actual school/classroom setting at 2 years old, and started full days of school at 3 years old.

In that time, he has really excelled at quite a few things academically, especially reading.


But last semester at his school there was an issue regarding where he would go to kindergarten. For some reason we still don't understand, and that would take too long to explain here, his teachers wanted him to go to a program for "slow kids". I am using that term just for the sake of explanation in this blog. They wouldn't refer to that place as such. But one issue we had, was when we posed the direct question of whether this is a diploma bound program (as opposed to simple life skills) we were told "yes". Later, once we had signed off on this, we learned it was NOT a diploma bound program. And whether you want to soft pedal it, or come right out, I don't know how else to say we were lied to.

It seemed like we were set up to not discover this, or discover this after it was too late to do anything about it. Once we realized Alex had a ticket to Shanghai, we got things in motion. We took him to a top notch child psychologist in Bethesda who ran every test out there on him. Come to find he has problems with verbal instructions. But he is king with non-verbal problem solving, and when it comes to the written word and reading he has a second grade reading level. (None of this was discovered by his school)

During the summer, we didn't send Alex to the extended school session. We sent him to two separate camps, one being a theatre camp with "typical" kids, and he did quite well at both.

But in the meantime, we hired a professional advocate as well as a lawyer to help us get Alex into the regular school. The Federal law passed in the 1970's, the IDEA law, states that the first compelling directive is to give the child the least restrictive environment preferably at his home school. In the two meetings we had with the school district this past month, they decided to fight us both times for reasons I can't understand. Especially in our case, as our lawyer said, that we wanted less services, not more. And if Alex needs another program, we can move onto that. She said that in the past, when she argued before the school district asking for more services, they were always throwing the Less Restrictive Environment (or LRE) in her face, so why not now?

I am very tempted to describe the surly details of the final hearing we had with the School District. A very compelling experience for those who'd like to know. But I don't think I want to go through it again. I'll just say, Liz had all the documents, the attorney had the mojo, and I had the bad attitude of the angry father. I can say I now understand how actors mentally prep themselves for a harrowing scene, because I unwittingly relied on a mental technique to prepare myself that almost made me jump across the table. In the end though, they relented to what we asked for: Alex go to regular kindergarten with his own para-educator to shadow him.

So today was the big day, and I was a nervous wreck. All that work and effort, and it all comes down to the picture on the left. Alex strapped into the seat for the ride of his life... so far. The moment kind of reminded me of the scene from "Band of Brothers", where after 2 years or so of training, the guys were finally going to face their destiny. And they are strapped into the airplane, waiting to go, to make their jump on D-Day.

This morning, Alex kept saying, "go to school..."


He thought it was going to be like orientation, where I would be there in the room with him. But you must remember, he is an old hand at this going to school thing. Full days of school since his 3rd birthday! Even so, when I saw him sitting here, I knew the ordeal he was facing...and he didn't. Any other given day, strapping into the car seat would be the beginning of a fun ride to the store or the park.

So I dropped him off, and yes, once he realized that I wasn't staying, he started to cry. Two teachers took him by each arm, and walked him to the classroom. I said goodbye and turned away, and went back home. Now all I can do is wait to find out what is happening right now. I can't rid myself of the idea that if a "normal" kid cries, everyone chalks it up to a typical reaction, and if Alex cries, people will say, "Well, shouldn't have sent him here. Can't handle the big kid's school". I know I shouldn't think that way, but once bitten, twice shy, you know? We have already experienced how people who should be looking out for our son, in essence were really not doing so, and were ready to relegate him to the refuse pile for any number of reasons, least of which the fact that they already decided and didn't want to admit they were wrong. Maybe I am being harsh. Maybe. But he's my kid, and we see so much more of his talents than his old teachers. That being said, I also feel that what happens today and this first week is going to set the stage for the rest of his school career. And in a way, you can forgive me if I somehow feel that I am sending him in harm's way.

But I can't end this blog on that note.
This is something that I know we must do...

Where the hell does time go?

I am adding to this blog. Today on May 29th. Why today? Because for the past 6 months I forgot about it...

Yes I did. Until today totally forgot.

Then today I was tracking visits to my webpage, and saw someone Google'd my name. Then I saw what the Google found, and there's this blog. Oh yeah, now I remember.

Back in October I was sooooo ambitious. Posting the picture of ME and Jay Daniels, and all these ideas of oh, so funny writings. Ah yes, I would express myself so well, with so much humor that the freelance job writing for The Onion was only a day away.


But no. Because for some reason I can't totally explain, my days are like falling down an icy sliding board. It might be my two kids, ages 5 and 2 eating up some of that time. And the fact that I work from home adds to the expectation of me doing so much more around the house because, hey, I'm "at home".

By my bed I have assorted books I read in the short time before I fall asleep. One I keep grabbing is by Michio Kaku, "Beyond Einstein". Right now I am reading the section about how in the 60's and 70's, (post Einstein's death) how scientists were fiddling with his equations, and seeing if mathematically there could be a time machine.

So, here's what they came up with, what you need for a time machine, really.

This is supposed to work. You need:
1) A wormhole
2) A billion trillion gazillion joules of electricity
3) A craft that goes near the speed of light

The premise is some future generation would be able to do this. So to get a wormhole, you need the electricity. But the amount of energy needed would outdo the entire gross national product of the entire world. And you would use up all the energy we have now in the form of coal, oil, and nukes.

So you get all this electricity, and 2 metal plates. I love how you apply something so complicated to something so simple. I think you can get the plates at Home Depot, but they have to be man-sized. Then you apply all that electricity to the plates, and open a wormhole. It's just that simple. Despite the fact that wormhole or not, that is enough electricity to blow your ass to Candy Mountain.

So now the next part. Once you open the wormhole between the 2 plates, you put one plate on your super airplane and fly it close to the speed of light. So at this point I imagine the wormhole is stretched out like a giant slinky.

So as the plane is flying at or near the speed of light, someone on the ground where the other plate is, well, they jump into the wormhole, and end up on the other side. The thing is they don't know if they will be in the future or the past. And never mind getting back. If there would be a "back" to return to.

What makes me marvel at this? Of course, it sounds like a lot of poppy-cock, and some people marvel at that, like the Village Idiot marveling at a scrap of velvet.

But there is a similar effect that I will be encountering shortly. And I didn't think of it as I started writing this post. But it was bubbling somewhere in the blood/brain barrier.

That being said, take a look at the picture I posted above. That's me in 1986 with Daniels and Webster in new York at ABC studios. Me and my Duran Duran hairdo. And when I look at the picture, I am beyond saying, "It seems like yesterday". Because I think I'm at the point where I am beyond that. Because it is starting to seem long ago.

Another thing that was long ago was my college graduation. June 1984. And this week we are having our 25th reunion. Keeping in the style of the Radio/TV Department at Marywood, we blew off all the "official" Marywood events, and set up a party of our own, at a secret undisclosed location at the upstairs of The Banshee in Scranton. No one knows where that is, so don't tell them.

But take a good look at the picture to the right. That of course is me, and judging from the glasses and beard, I believe if to be Winter 1982/83. Not one of my favorite pictures, but still a good picture in that it's true to what I was doing at the time. Army field jacket, with "An Official Bealtes Fan" button. And ski lift ticket on the zipper. 1972 Toyota Corona.

I know where I have been in the meantime. But to all the people coming to the reunion, this is how they remember me. And in essence, it will be as if I zapped my ass into the wormhole. Except that instead of going to Candy Mountain, I ended up at The Banshee. So when I get there, all my classmates will see someone with a lot of miles on the tires. To paraphrase Indiana Jones, "It's not the years, it's the miles." And I presume that it will seem the same for me looking at the other people.

So where does the time go? Good question. Because at the rate I'm going, the next post for this blog will be my 35th reunion. Maybe it ends up at Candy Mountain...


Candy Mountain! Candy Mountain! Fills me with sweet sugary goodness!!!!

First Blog. Just a test. Yay me.

Well, a lot of times people will work on their internet stuff, and put together "test stuff". But I plan on expanding a few things, as well as learning a few things too. Applying FTP and subdirectories perhaps? Sounds fancy? Pretty special, huh. FTP sounds like something you put in your car's engine. But it is quicker than regular internet.

So here's a picture to test with this fancy blog as well.

Okay, Jay Daniels and me at the D&W 5000th Broadcast. That coat just makes me look fat. SEE! There, I just used the italics thing. That was a bold move! Get it!