Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Here in my San Francisco hotel room, I finish off my dinner of buffalo wings and beer while "Law & Order: SVU" is keeps me company. The giant bathtub next to the bed and the shower set-up tells me the room is designed for the handicapped. I try not to think about the next 24 hours but have given up, it is impossible.
Tomorrow, I meet with my bosses to discuss where I go from Here. Nearly everyone in their career has been to that point but I've certainly taken the long road. We'll just have to see what is said and more importantly, what is heard.
Tomorrow, my father goes under the knife. First thing in the morning, he'll have double bypass surgery at the VA in Houston. I keep hearing about how routine it all is, how thousands of these are done every year. Still, it sucks. I don't like it one bit. I'll feel much better when he back to his cigars, DQ blizzards and dispensing weird advice: "Remember, punkin, always cheat the government when you can."
I spoke with him earlier today. I didn't want to hang up but didn't want to be melodramatic. He hates that shit. I wanted to come to Houston but he was adamant. He knew how long I'd been angling for this meeting and wanted no part in my missing it.
"Okay, punkin, well good luck tomorrow. Give 'em hell," he said.
"Okay, Dad. Good luck tomorrow. Get fixed," I responded.
"I love you."
"I love you too."