stacy b-log

If you tuned in to read my thoughts of peace and goodwill on Thanksgiving or perhaps enjoy a welcome "attitude of gratitude" from me, please skip to the next item in this blog because you'll likely be offended by this screed, which was sparked after I listened to "national recording artist" Demi Lovato obliterate the National Anthem before the Dallas Cowboys game.

THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER IS NOT AN INTERPRETIVE MUSICAL ADVENTURE. IT'S THE NATIONAL ANTHEM OF OUR GREAT NATION. IF YOU CANNOT SING IT IN A STRAIGHT-FORWARD AND RESPECTFUL MANNER, DON'T BOTHER.

I promise you, singing the National Anthem is not a star-making turn - unless your name is Whitney Houston, and when she sang the National Anthem at the Super Bowl, she was already a star and she showed how to move a nation to tears at her gorgeous rendition of our national song.

After watching Demi "Who the hell are you?" Lovato bitch-slap the opening bars of our National Anthem, I wanted to kick in my TV screen. After I listened to her go all vibrato on "the rockets red glare," I was seeing enough red that I wanted to kick in her head instead. And when she attempted to hit a "money note" on the "ramparts we watched," I wanted to climb behind the ramparts and watch Agent Orange rain down on the stage-parents that thought they were doing us all a favor when they brought her into this world.

Now as my buddy Cliff will tell you, I can sing only one note - and I don't do it very well - but even I could bark out "the bombs bursting in air" without bursting anyone's ear drums. Oh, and I manage not to make gasping inhalations while I'm doing it.

"Beautifully done," said announcer Tim Buck, and I must say, describing Lovato's "performance" as "beautifully done" is like saying that Roseanne Barr's rendition was "emotionally moving." Yeah, if you're moving your bowels, because after both Roseanne and Demi's verbal projectile diarrheas of the Star-Spangled Banner, I for one, wanted to vomit.

Because we at the stacy b-log try to be educational as well as inspirational, we are going to conduct a little compare and contrast exercise for your intellectual stimulation. Here is that banshee's version of the National Anthem. Warning: You may want to turn down your volume levels just a touch as I do not want to be responsible for any hearing loss - or damage you may do to your monitors. Don't say you weren't warned.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kbB4rCn4Sd0

To rectify this situation, I am linking to the most inspirational National Anthems ever to cleanse your audial palettes of the degradation they just suffered. Here's Whitney Houston (before she defiled herself with a sham marriage to Bobby Brown - but try to block that from your minds and allow her goodness to block Demi from your inner ear)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qciWEufZ2xA

Finally, if you're old school, here's the United States Air Force band's version. I can't link directly to the song, but if you look under "Most Requested Recordings" on the homepage, you can click on the Star-Spangled Banner and hear it:

http://www.usafband.af.mil/recordings/

This has been a public service of the stacy b-log.

Posted by stacy at 02:35 PM | Permalink

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday (aside from December 9, which is National Day of Celebration for the Birth of Stacy Feducia - mark your calendars). And on this Thanksgiving morning, I awoke to the sound of raindrops at my window - football weather in the desert - and I realized that I have so much to be thankful for on this grateful day...

I am thankful for wet dogs and single-malt Scotch and rainy Sundays (and Wednesdays and Thursdays). ... I am thankful that my parents are game enough to camp out with their grandchildren on Thanksgiving Eve, and light a bonfire in the pasture and remember other Aggie bonfires from other days... I am thankful that my niece and nephew are learning to love the mystery of the night sky and the wonder of the outdoors. ... I am thankful for family recipes that civilians don't understand (and I don't really understand either, but they work like a charm and taste like home). ... I am thankful that my sweet husband is in one piece (sanity notwithstanding) and that he gets so much joy from racing his motorbike, it makes up for the pain of a broken collarbone... and crushed rotator cuff... I am thankful that he's alive... I am thankful that my Mum-in-law is on the mend from a bypass and valve replacement - she's returning to her feisty ways and Pop is finally starting to mellow out and see how she runs... I'm thankful that the first thing she wanted to eat was a McDonald's hamburger and her docs said it was OK, and I'm thankful that Pat and I had the opportunity to bring it to her because they made it home safely - and weren't stranded in St. Martin's where all these events transpired... I am thankful that I work for the smartest guys in the room, who also happen to be the most thoughtful and decent and they let us try and fail and succeed with equal enthusiasm... I am thankful for my manager Nancy who has been so gracious these past few weeks while I dealt with the Bertinelli sick bay... and for my fun, funny coworkers Cliff, Lisa, Lisa, Karen and Christine who have been so supportive and kind and who are the five folks I want in my foxhole as we work our way through these dark days... I am thankful to have a job when so many others are searching, and the fact that it's a great job with terrific people is just lagniappe... I am grateful for the chance to go back to school - as recently as the 1970s, some med schools didn't even admit women, not that I've been admitted yet, but that I have the opportunity to apply... I am thankful that we are witnessing an historic transition of power from one administration to the next, and regardless of how you voted, it is really amazing that we can do this without gunfire or bloodshed - it is a testament to the American Experiment... I am thankful to all our military personnel and veterans who are serving their country - and to the families who are supporting them... Keep your head down and your wits about you... I'm thankful for the good citizens who welcome them home with open arms - like the men and women who bought our friend Tyler drinks in Las Vegas when they heard he was home from Iraq - and I am so grateful that he made it home safely... I am thankful for my friends who are patient and wise and put up with me on dour days - Penny, Kellee, Gina, Kristi, Chris, Stacey M, Cynde, Liz, Kathy, and Toni Clay - and wait for me to come out on the other side smiling and happy again... I am thankful for my sister - that she understands me probably better than anyone, and has forgiven my shortcomings more than anyone ever should... I am thankful for friends who bring food (though not for the pounds it packs on) that said, Tami Simmons makes the BEST... MEATLOAF... EVER... and it was a delight to spend an hour drinking a beer with Rockin' Bob last Sunday (and eating the ribs he brought afterward)... I'm thankful for muddy singletrack, small pocket pairs that connect on the flop, dark roux, Led Zeppelin, Harris hawks, fresh grapefruit, the Stone Brewing Company, Dave Dinsmore at the Camp Pendleton Marine Corps Mud Run, Local First - and all the great things that Kimber does that no one ever hears about. I'm thankful for Changing Hands Bookstore, Flo's coconut soup, John the tire guy at Community Tire (and especially his boss Howard), the stereo on my MINI, Mardi Gras, the rebirth of New Orleans, the random videos that David P sent my Mum in the hospital, the Sunday league, the Ladies (and their husbands) poker league, the piney woods of East Texas (and Northwest Louisiana), old jeans, Pat's hospital gowns, full puppy bellies, and did I mention rainy Sundays?

I have a lot to be thankful for... In fact, I could write all day long and into tomorrow and still not run out of things to say, but I have a pot of Gene's garlic cheese grits to stir and Chef Tracy's spicy cider to make, and so I think I'll sign off. Happy Thanksgiving... Thank you for reading - and thank you for being my friend.

Posted by stacy at 10:28 AM | Permalink

Sedated, plated and thoroughly elated, my sweet husband Pat is back in one piece now and snoozing on our couch in his freshly laundered hospital gown.

We showed up at the Gateway Chop Shop and Drive-Thru Surgi-Center this morning at 7, had a meaningful 45-minute visit with Dr. Evan "Rack-em/Stack-em" Lederman at 8 and made it back to the house by 10:30 AM. In the same time it took to put Pat's humpty-dumpty collarbone back together again, you could have driven from downtown Phoenix to north Peoria. That, my friends, is efficiency.

Here's Pat before the operation - you can't really see the bone fragment pushing against his skin, but at least the colors are pretty.

Highlights of Pat's visit: When his new best friend, the anesthesiologist, pushed the "happy meds," Pat told the assembled collarbone-correction team, "Well, it's been nice knowing y'all, I think I'll sign off" and promptly lost 45 minutes of his existence ... Dr. Lederman let Pat keep the drill bits he used to plate and screw his three-piece left clavicle back together - not sure what Pat is going to use them for, but he'll have plenty of time to putter around the garage since he won't be back in fighting shape for another three months... Pat got a new blue hospital gown to add to his collection - he asked the nurse if he could keep it because he likes them for "home use" ... We learned a new term for genitalia when we overheard the following from a nurse in the adjacent recovery cubby: "Now Mrs. X, Mrs. X - just lay back down. Pull that sheet up, OK? Don't show us your Britney. We don't want to see your Britney. Just cover back up, Mrs. X." Wondering if the male version is a "Federline." ... The good news is that Pat is pretty much back in action now - he has three functioning limbs (four for my purposes) plus one flipper, and he should be back on his feet by Monday.

Here's Pat after the operation, when we were hoping the curtain didn't pull back to reveal Mrs. X's Britney. He wishes there was gin and ginger ale in that plastic cup - soon enough, my friend!

We left 10 minutes after I took that photo. So now we're back at the Pat and Stacy World Headquarters and he'll be laying low throughout the weekend. He has plenty of Percocets to keep him comfortably numb, and no, you can't have any - unless you decide to break your collarbone in three places, in which case, we have a drill bit, two hospital gowns and an aspiring pre-med student looking for some practice. Any takers?

Posted by stacy at 12:51 PM | Permalink

My sweet husband tucked the front wheel of his motorcycle going into Turn 3 of the second lap of his third and final race on Sunday. Here's what happened next...

You may recall that Pat "disintegrated" his right rotator cuff in April 2005 when he did a cartwheel off the front of his bike going 90 miles per hour while practicing for another race. Fortunately this time around, it was the other shoulder, or to be medically accurate, his left-side clavicle aka collarbone aka THE MOST PAINFUL BREAK YOU CAN POSSIBLY HAVE BECAUSE THEY CAN'T PUT IT IN A CAST. And could you tell from the X-ray that he broke it in THREE PLACES?

Unfortunately I was not at the track to witness the spectacle – I left after the second race (third place) to come home and get ready for our neighborhood block party. After the 45-minute drive from the track with a 15-minute pitstop at the grocery store, I walked in the house to the dulcet sounds of a ringing telephone. You just can’t leave this guy alone for that long without him finding some kinda trouble.

One of my fellow racing-wives Jan Bucher, who thankfully is a paramedic, was driving him to Scottsdale Healthcare at Thompson Peak – just minutes from our house, and might I add, the place I aspire to work when I grow up (see previous post: Bak 2 Skul).

Sadly, the nice folks at Scottsdale-Thompson Peak cut his T-shirt off, and while Pat was cool to go topless into the good night, the hospital staff didn't want to expose the general population to his man-boobs and graciously allowed Pat to wear his hospital gown home, thus touching off one of the most head-scratching fashion trends of the young millennium.

Yes, that would be my sweet husband, standing in Walgreen's wearing a hospital gown. I'd like to say that it's Pat's own way of showing THE MAN how he feels about shopping in a chain store but by the time we got there (next door to the hospital), the drive-thru pharmacy window was closed, and even after two shots of morphine, Pat needed the Percocets YESTERDAY so we had to swallow our indie-pride and go inside.

... and horrify our fellow shoppers. Walgreen's isn't the most happening place on a Sunday night, so you can imagine the panic incited in the denizens of North Scottsdale when they witnessed this spectacle.

"Did you escape?" one woman asked, as Pat one-armed his way through the bin of movie-size boxes of DOTS and Junior Mints.

Suffice it to say, we grabbed his (our) pills, two bottles of soda, a Pedi-Paws dog nail trimmer (as seen on TV - the cashier said it works) and a box of DOTS and beat a hasty retreat back to the Pat and Stacy World Headquarters. Here's why I want to work Scottsdale Healthcare Thompson Peak when I finish this adventure in 12-15 years: Floor to Door - 3 hours.

From the time Pat hit the floor (er, pavement) at Firebird Raceway around 3 PM, got driven 45 minutes to Scottsdale Healthcare Thompson Peak, got his x-rays, got his shots, got his walking papers and scandalized the Walgreens to the time we walked in the door of the Pat and Stacy World Headquarter was just about 3 hours. That has to be a world record. For those of you who have read House of God: This is how they move the meat - or, to put it more delicately, if you have an emergency, it might be worth the drive to North Scottsdale. As you can see, the folks are real friendly... or rather, tolerant:

So here's the good news: Surgery is scheduled for Thursday morning, 8:15 with Dr. Evan "Thanks for the kitchen remodel" Lederman - who did Pat's other shoulder. Dr. Lederman was grateful that he landed on this one this time. Last time around, you may recall the good doctor offering this advice, "I can keep putting you back together, but every time, I'll have less to work with so keep that in mind when you get back on the bike."

Yeah, well, point taken. It's an outpatient surgery at the Gateway Chop Shop. They'll sedate him and plate him and he'll spend the rest of his days setting off airport alarms - "ask for titanium and carbon fiber!" Jan said.

I'll post the results when I get them - but first we'd like to take a moment to thank some really awesome folks who helped us out yesterday: Thank you Jan for taking Pat to the hospital and keeping him company. Thank you John Brooks and Ray and Suzie Thibedeau for picking up Pat's bike and hauling the it away from the track (the bike is in remarkably good condition - obviously Pat's collarbone took the worst of it). Thank you John Jewitt for sitting with Pat trackside while y'all waited for safe passage to the paddock. Thank you also to all of our racing friends and family at Road Race Southwest who have called with kind words and well wishes.

Most importantly, thanks to Pat's mom for not having a heart attack when she heard the news (actually she had one three weeks ago - so it's cool). Will keep you posted on the patient.

Posted by stacy at 05:40 PM | Permalink

Took my third and penultimate exam last Monday... missed two... scored a 92, which is an A.

Fortunately, the intellectual giants that are my classmates managed to score an average 62, ergo, Dr. Younger-Than-I added six points to everyone's score, giving me a buffed-and-polished 98.

I AM PROUD TO CALL MYSELF THE CURVE BUSTER!!!

And speaking of kicking people to the curb, I believe Baby Mama has dropped the class and has taken up knitting full time. Didn't see her at the exam... or in lab. I can only be so lucky... or not. Read the next entry and find out why.

Posted by stacy at 01:39 PM | Permalink