Holiday Hospital Déja-vu

We spent Christmas last year in the hospital with our then one-month-old, Madison, with the respiratory virus, RSV. It should have come as no surprise when, on the night before we were to fly home from our Christmas visit with Katie's family in Tennessee, Madison woke me up around 2am. I could hear her labored breathing through her crying and coughing.

After calling our pediatrician's nurse advice line and being told to hang up and dial 911 based on hearing Madison over the phone, we jumped in the car and drove to the hospital. Madison enjoyed her first ride in the front seat on the way there.

After our poor girl went through chest x-rays, blood tests, and then additional chest x-rays, she was given an antibiotic shot in her thigh and a prescription for another antibiotic taken orally. Poor girl. She was exhausted when we finally left the hospital close to 7am. We thank the Lord that Madison's upper respiratory infection wasn't any more serious, and for the graciousness of the American Airlines employee who waived our change fees to let us fly home tomorrow instead. Time for bed!

Pastor Mike the Repo Guy

Freaky night. I just helped repo a Volkswagon Passat for my brother-in-law, Kory, who owns a car lot. Seems like someone had gone delinquent on their payments, so in East Tennessee, the car legally belongs to him. So, around midnight, four of us guys set out to get it back. Game on! (Here we're alerting the cops to the fact that we're poaching the car, so they're aware when the current owners call it in as stolen.)

Giggling like freshmen at their first dance, the four of us developed our plan. Katie's two brothers, Kory and Kyler (the Hollywood film editor) would stay in constant phone contact with us while my twin brother, Christopher, and I would actually jack the car. Sweet.

I must've drawn the short straw, because I was the designated photo/videographer for the mission, while Christopher got to drive the Passat. Well, it beat staying home, let me tell you. Hearts pounding, we arrived on scene at the rear of the apartment building. There she was, with her front bumper sitting about 5 feet from the sliding glass door to the unit! This was going to take stealth and speed.

Getting in as quietly as we could and being careful not to slam our doors, Christopher and I kept a wary eye on the sliding glass door and windows right in front of us while he inserted in the extra key Kory always keeps just in case a situation such as this one becomes necessary.

After a couple of unsuccessful attempts at starting during which every second felt like an hour, the VW finally sprang to life. Slamming it into reverse, Christopher lurched backward in the darkness with the headlights as yet unlit. I was freaked out that someone was going to come out that back door at any second. When he had it turned around, Kory and Kyler roared out the driveway ahead of us and onto the country road toward home.

Stopping at a local gas station to admire our work, we finally let out a sign of relief. I called Katie to let her know we were safe, and then we began noticing the first of several bad news signs. The entire air blower assembly was sitting on the back seat of the car. Then, on the way home, it started smoking. Stopping in the middle of the road, Kory checked it out. Turns out the turkeys had blown the head gasket to the tune of about a $1200 repair job. Yikes. It's no wonder they didn't want to keep making payments on a dead car.

I hope you enjoy the videos as much as we enjoyed making them! (Note to dial-up users: Why bother? You have better things to do than wait for these videos to load! P.S. Get faster internet access!)


Move over, Dog the Bounty Hunter! Yeah, right. Though I enjoyed the rush, I'm not sure I'm exactly cut out to be a full-time repo guy. Pastor Mike the Repo Guy. Hmm. On second thought, maybe I should call up the Discovery Channel after all.

Chick-fil-A ROCKS!

Driving through the night 8 hours from the Memphis airport to East Tennessee after flying all day wasn't my idea of a picnic. Then the familiar Chick-fil-A sign shone like a beacon on a stormy night. With no Chick-fil-A restaurants in my area of Cali, I crave the taste of their sandwiches, their fries, their lemonade, their ice cream . . . get the picture?

Trying not to squeal the tires turning off the freeway, I tore into Chick-fil-A with Katie in tow. She INSISTED on buying me a t-shirt along with the meal. Fine. I might as well own up to the whole "I'm a fan at the nerd level" idea.

After hunting around for a t-shirt, the helpful crew member alerted the night manager, who came out to give me grief. Yikes! It was Daniel Morgan, a friend from my old IBLP days, when I used to be his "Family Coordinator." This meant that when he was nothing more than a wee whipper-snapper, I was supposed to try to give him good counsel and sage advice while setting an example for him. Right.

We obviously graduated to Friend Level, and good thing, too, because this man now held in his hands my Chick-fil-A future and dreams. But would he fulfill them?

Done.

I won't tell you that he gave us TEN "Be Our Guest" cards (good for one free sandwich at any location) because that might get him in trouble OR make him look like a pushover. So, instead I'll just say that he HOOKED ME UP. No, you can't have his phone number. He's MY friend.

Maybe this Christmas vacation in East Tennesse isn't going to be so bad after all . . .

Merry Christmas!

Christmastime with little people in the house . . . what a difference being a dad makes! In spite of all the carefully planned treasures for my family, I still found time to hope, worry, ponder, debate, muse, and fret over what little ol' ME was going to get. Aargh. King of Commercialism, I concede this battle to you.

No, I didn't get the main thing on my list, a surfing calendar. Instead, my mom got me a boat trip to watch suicidal surfers hit Mavericks (INSANE surf spot near Half Moon Bay, for you novices) from as close as 30 feet away, in the water. SWEET! But, sheesh. No calendar. Guess I'll have to take enough pics to make my own.

I was able to make Katie's season a bit brighter with an iPod Nano (4GB, 3rd generation, video enabled, yada-yada for those of you who pretend to care). She'd been relegated to Technology's Stone Age thanks to our 1989 Buick LeSabre that has a barely functioning stereo and cassette deck. Now, with the cassette adapter, she's got all her fave CDs on the go. Did I hook her up or what? (Okay, so in this tumultuous employment season of our lives, it didn't hurt to get a REALLY good deal on the Nano, but that's between us.)

We're off at 4:30am to join the unwashed masses who will be traveling tomorrow. We'll be in East Tennessee, visiting Katie's side of the family. I think they've got electricity, so I should be able to plug in my laptop, fire up my Broadband Access Aircard from Verizon, and keep in touch with the civilized world. (Okay, so it just FEELS that way. I guess the running water isn't quite the luxury I usually make it out to be.)

I certainly pray you and yours had a blessed Christmas. May the Savior Whose birth we celebrate be nearer to you than ever before, and may you continue to seek Him diligently throughout the New Year.