Saying Goodbye to a Friend
In August, 1994 I took one of the first big chances I had ever taken in my life. I had been excepted into Graduate School at Xavier University in Cincinnati. Unlike most people, I had spent the previous couple of years in the work force after receiving my undergraduate degree, and hated. So thanks to some prodding from a good friend, I applied to grad school and was excepted at X, but I had never been there. Never saw the campus, or even been to Cincinnati. But I decided to go. After finishing my first semester, and starting work with the local minor league hockey team, I felt that something was missing. What was missing was a pet. I had always had pets and kind of wanted a dog. But between school, and work with the team, and the fact that I lived in an apartment, I decided against a dog and instead adopted two wonderful cats, since cats take care of each other.
About a year or so later a friend of mine came to me at work. He was out walking his dog when he discovered an alley cat that someone hit over the head with a brick. He wanted to keep him, but because of his dog, couldn’t. Being a sucker for animals, I told my friend that I would take him, but we would need to find a better home for him.
About two years later I left Cincinnati to come home to the Philadelphia area. Me, a UHaul with my Chevy Blazer towed behind, and three cats. I put the two girls in a large carrier and went back into the house for my boy, who promptly ran out of the apartment at 3 in the moring. Luckily, he didn’t go far, as I was wondering what I would do if I couldn’t find him as I was running down the steps. I scooped him up, placed him in his carrier and off we went.
I’m very grateful for having my feline friends. Several years ago I was suffering from severe depression. This is a disease that I don’t wish on my worst enemies. I constantly felt as if I was drowning, alone even among a group of people. I was suicidal. I couldn’t go on. I was literally driving to a place where I could end my agony until I thought about who would be there to take care of my “babies.” It was that thought that aloud me to get the help that I needed.
It is truly amazing to be the anamosity that some people feel for cats. If they do, they have never had the pleasure of knowing these amazing creatures. Whenever I came home, they were there to meet me at the door. When I was sick, they would sit by my bed. Their purring was always there when I needed a pick me up. The day I thought about making my last in this lifetime, I went home and hugged my cats like never before, and they just stopped and let me. Except for the youngest, he licked me.
Last year, I buried the two oldest, Rogue and Shadow. They were 17 and 15 1/2 years old and lived a wonderful life. But my boy and I went home and he continued to be there for me. Until tonight. Tonight, I had to put Gambit to sleep. His kidney’s were failing, and I couldn’t give him the care that he needed. I didn’t want him to suffer, so I made one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make. Tomorrow I will lay him to rest with his sisters at the family farm.
Gambit, 1995-2009, Rest In Peace.
He was a very, very special cat. He tucked me in every night when I went to bed. Literally. I would turn out the lights and get under the covers. Then he would jump in bed with me, head butt me, and then sit by my legs for a while, while drifted to dream land.
He also had a kneading habit. Many cats do, where they start kneading a part of your body with their front paws. But Gambit, being special like he was, would stick his very, very wet nose on your arm or leg while he kneaded you.
I could go on with stories for a long, long time, of all three of my feline friends. They were my favorite photography subjects, and my favorite culinary critics. Oddly enough, unlike his sisters, Gambit was never big on human food, except of course, for tuna. And then only little bits from the can.
I really miss him, and his sisters. In fact, their loss from last year still weighs deeply on my heart. But I know that the three of them are together now in heaven, that better home I promised Gambit I would find him one day. I know I will see them there again one day, but thanks to them, not for a long time.
Goodnight Gambit, tonight I tuck you in.
Living the dream, Driving a NASCAR Stock car.
Yesterday, thanks to my Brother, I had one of the most incredible experiences of my life. I got to drive a race car on a super speedway, the 2 1/2 tri-oval at Pocono. I’m still struggling to find the words, but I’m gonna try.
The day actually started the night before at my Dad’s house. My brother, not known to me, invited two of my closest friends to share the experience. One of them came from Clifton, about 45 minutes away, the other from Las Vegas, NV. Michael had booked us a hotel and off we went after dinner to try to get a decent nights sleep as we had an early start to the next day. For whatever reason, I do not get a good night’s sleep in hotels, so it was very hard to get up the next morning, but up we were and on the road at 6:30.
After getting close to the track, we found a Dunkin Donuts for breakfast (I’m addicted to their iced coffee!) And then off to the track.
Once we got there, it was through the tunnel, on through the infield and in to the garage area to register and start class. Class is really a couple of short video’s designed to give you basic safety information, teach you about the signs you’ll be shown from the flag man, etc. The biggest thing is that you’re driving race cars, not street cars and they are very different.
After the video class, it was off to the garage where our instructor first showed us how to get into the car. This may sound silly to some people, but stock cars don’t have doors. Next, it was how to fasten the belts and info on the cockpit’s gauges (no speedometer), and what there ideal settings should be. I was paying more intention to the light on the dashboard that warns if something’s wrong, and the button to activate the fire extinguisher system. The other important button was the master switch. Again, race cars don’t have keys.
From here, we piled into vans for a spin around the track. We were going 65 miles per hour, but it seemed like we were flying. It was a van. The main purpose of the van ride is to teach you about the marks you need to hit to go fast.
The way the track is set up, you have two sets of marks. The first is a set of colored cones going into each turn. The first cone is yellow. This signifies two things, the first is that you are getting close to your turning point. The second is that this is were you need to make sure you’re maintaining your spacing from the car you’re chasing, and make any adjustments needed. The next cone is red. This means it’s time to turn. From here, your marks change to blocks on the track. These blocks show you the ideal line, and you want to drive over them. The last cone is a green cone that goes with a triangle on the track that shows you the apex of your turn. In other words, time to follow the blocks back out of the turn.
After the van ride, it was off to the drivers meeting. This was really to teach us about the safety equipment we would be wearing. Firesuit, helmet, HANS device. Then we suited up and got ready to roll.
Michael, Lester, Pete and Myself suited up and ready to drive.
My friends Pete and Lester got out first. It seemed like they had to wait for a while in the cars. In addition to drivers, the school also had ride-alongs going on, so pit road was a busy place. Once the car that had the instructor that Les and Pete were following pulled in and had a quick safety check, they were off. I really didn’t get to see much, because the cars that Michael and I were to drive pulled in. Michael was in the 5 car, a COT Toyota. My car was an older style Dodge Intrepid. Once we got to the cars they took some pictures (I didn’t purchase them, so don’t ask!) The first test was getting in and getting fitted in the chair. I needed a pad to push me forward so that I could comfortably control the pedals. Then, with the help of the race schools crew, I was getting belted in, helmet on, HANS set up and reseting the tach. I was all stapped in, and when I say all strapped in, you are so snug in the car. You can’t turn your head to the right very far, just enough to see out the windshield, which is a lot smaller than you would think. One last review of the controls and then my window net went up and waited for the signal to fire the engine.
I was now in the car all by myself, and, oddly enough, I felt really, really comforable. I wasn’t at all nervous, instead very content. At that, it was time to flip the switch to fire the engines and put it into gear and roll down pit road. These cars are 4-speed manuals, and you get through the gears very quickly, in fourth by the end of pit road and then onto the track for your first lap. The first lap is a pace lap run at 5000 rpm’s (again, there’s no speedometer in the car).
I really needed that lap to judge my distance from the chase car, but after that, I was off and running. It was amazing. I know at one point I was turning of 7500 rpm, then 8000, then over 8000. I was hitting my marks. I would feel the car start to slide and then would accelerate to get more grip, catching my instructor. I was really cranking. I was amazed at how late we would turn into the corners, and how quickly I would be able to get back into the gas. But I think the most amazing thing was that, from a speed stand point, I really didn’t fell like I was going that quickly. My thoughts were really on staying with my instructor and hitting my marks.
Before I knew it, I took the checkered flag, which in this case didn’t mean the end, but go as fast as you can into turns one and two, then signal my brother that I was slowing down and heading into the pits, throwing the car into neutral and coasting to a stop.
Once I was done, I just sat in the car for a second amazed at what I did. I figured I had hit the 160 mark, I had to. The guys on pit road were right over to help me out of my hans and helmet. That’s when I hit the recall button on my tach, over 8300 rpm. “Not bad”, said the gentleman helping me, “that’s about 170. One of the fastest I’ve seen today.” All I knew was I felt like Dale Earnhardt winning the Daytona 500. “We did it, we did it.” I drove a stock car at 170 miles per hour, and nothing could seem more natural.
I can’t wait to do it again.
Hi!
My cat Rogue napping on the couch.
Ok, so this is basically just a place for me to rant and rave about whatever’s on my mind, being Temple sports, video games, politics, life the universe and everything.
So here’s my current rant. Last night I watched a rerun of CSI. CSI’s my favorite tv show and I’m bummed that Will Peterson is leaving. Watch “To Live and Die in LA” if you want to know how good an actor he is. But that’s not what I’m writing about. Last night was the first night I had to turn the channel during the show. All the blood and gore over the years, never had to turn away once, until last night. What was the show about: Dog Fighting, and they actually showed a fight. I know it was all staged but it really upset and angered me because I know that there really are people who put those animals through that, and I really don’t think any punishment his harsh enought. Look at Michael Vick. A few years in jail and then some desperate NFL team will probably give him millions of dollars to play again. I have a better solution, let the dog fighters fight. That’s right, let them fight each other, bighting aloud, just like the dogs they force to fight.
And when they are done fighting each other, they can fight someone like Mike Tyson. I think this would be a fair punishment. Just as a side thought, it’s amazing how I’m not the only one who has no problem putting a person who deserves it, but screw with a pet and I’m your worse enemy. No, I’m not a vegan or anything, I just like my dogs and cats and horses and . . .
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