The First Farewell and a Bump in the Road

I visited my gastroenterologist, Dr Claudia Nugent, yesterday. This was my last visit, and it made me sad. I have liver disease, you see. For the medical people, my condition is called Non-Alcoholic Steatohepatitis. For everyone else, that means cirrhosis that wasn't caused by alcohol abuse. This means that I've seen Dr Nugent a lot, and we've come to know each other. She has seen me go from a 370 pound medical basket case on the verge of death to a reasonably healthy 260 pound person full of life with a wonderful future. Her nurse nearly broke down in tears when I told her the news about my engagement and moving to Georgia. When Southern Belle was visiting last November, we ran into (not literally) Dr Nugent in the grocery store. So when I told Dr Nugent my news, she was immediately happy, but also showed a tinge of sadness. When my appointment was finished, Dr Nugent hugged me and told me she'd miss me. Good thing I'm a man, because a woman in my place would have broken down in tears.

Okay, you got me. I got a little misty eyed.

The bump in the road came after I left the clinic. I went to start my car and nothing happened. Literally nothing happened. Not even a solenoid click.

Houston, we have a problem.

I called for a tow. God bless AAA, because I would have spent more on that one tow than I spend in membership fees per year. The driver was very sociable, and he opined on what might be wrong with the car. He originally thought "battery," but the battery is charged and in working order. When the jump start didn't do anything, he then figured it might either be the starter or something wrong in the electronic ignition system. I don't think it's the starter for two reasons. 1 - No click. If the starter was bad, the solenoid would at least click. 2 - The starter is relatively new, having been replaced about two years ago. That leaves the electronic ignition system, which could vary greatly in cost depending on which part is broken.

I'm left with an unsavory possibility. The possibility of it being fixable, but too expensive to be worth fixing. The car is old, one of those "run it until it drops" kind of cars. My cousin is coming by tomorrow to look at it and see what my be wrong. He is a mechanic and my "go to" person for car issues. I hope it turns out to be nothing major.

Let the Packing Commence!

I want to say up front that I hate packing.

So I am starting the packing process. At this time I am dealing with a big ol' pile of comic books. Yes, I buy comic books. I love 'em. I also have too many of 'em. I have seven boxes designed to hold comic books and probably need five more. Since they are unsorted, I have to sort them before I can pack 'em up. I've been doing this for a couple of days and I'm sick of it. I'm going to try to find a dealer who will buy most of what I have, and hope I can get a reasonable price.

While I've been at this Sisyphean task, I've also been kicking around what it will take to pack the rest of my stuff. I'm leaving behind much of my furniture. It's bachelor pad quality stuff, if you get my meaning. Southern Belle has a very tastefully decorated two story house. My crappy furniture has no place there and I give it up willingly. The exceptions being my entertainment center (which is very nice) and a few bits of furniture that Southern Belle is interested in doing something with. She's quite a crafter.

The rest is the big question. How much "stuff" to take? Some of it will be given away and some of it will be thrown away. I'll take all my dishes and see what can be of use. What can't will get tossed.

Decisions, decisions.

Did I mention that I hate packing?

I'm a Lucky Man

I was talking to Southern Belle on the phone a few hours ago, and I never cease to be amazed at how understanding she is. I can be a total doofus sometimes, and it just eases off her back when it happens. This Yankee can't wait to get down to Georgia, before that amazing woman wises up and finds the man she really deserves.

To My Southern Belle

Blackmore's Night
"Wish You Were Here."
Ritchie Blackmore and Candice Knight

Wish you were here...
Me, oh, my countryman,
Wish you were here...

I wish you were here...
Don't you know, the snow is getting colder,
And I miss you like hell,
And I'm feeling blue...

I've got feelings for you,
Do you still feel the same?
From the first time I laid my eyes on you,
I felt joy of living,
I saw heaven in your eyes...
In your eyes...

Wish you were here,
Me, oh, my countryman,
Wish you were here...

I wish you were here...
Don't you know, the snow is getting colder,
And I miss you like hell...
And I'm feeling blue...

I miss your laugh, I miss your smile,
I miss everything about you...
Every second's like a minute,
Every minute's like a day
When you're far away...

The snow is getting colder, baby,
And I wish you were here...
A battlefield of love and fear,
And I wish you were here...

I've got feelings for you,
From the first time I laid my eyes on you...

I Found This "Yankee or Dixie" Online Quiz

Obviously I have a problem.

You Are 70% Yankee, 30% Dixie

You're so Yankee, it's possible you've never even been to the South!

Are You a Yankee or Dixie?

Thoughts on the South

I'm sitting here missing Southern Belle and thinking about the three weeks I spent in Georgia last month. Three weeks isn't enough to really get a feel for a place, especially since I spent more of my attention on Southern Belle than I did the surroundings. Even so, I did get some preliminary impressions.

The first and most obvious impression is that where she lives (and where I will soon live) is remote. I'm used to small towns. I grew up in a small town and I live in a small town. I've also lived in the city, and I prefer small town life.

Southern Belle doesn't live in a small town. She lives about 8 miles from a small town in a pretty remote part of the north Georgia mountains. It's a good thing I like the country, because a city person would be lost there.

For those of you who may be expecting me to say the area is hick-land, it really isn't. Oh there are hillbillies and rednecks. No question. There are also people who seem to be no different than yankees except for the accent. I have a feeling they would be insulted by that description, but no insult is meant. I just can't think of any other way to say it.

My interactions with the hillbillies and rednecks have shown them to be people like any others, though with (quoting Jeff Foxworthy) a "glorious lack of sophistication." I have to admit, the pickup truck with a camper top built out of plywood made me do a double-take. On the other hand, the sight of a Confederate battle flag will probably always make me scowl. It's give and take.

That's all for tonight, folks. Tune in tomorrow for more random cogitations.

Grocery shopping

In the store today, while poking around the bakery section, I noticed a person rummaging in the donuts. He was pulling donuts out of the display case and shoving them into a box like they were the last donuts on Earth. That would have been merely odd, if I hadn't noticed that he wasn't using the tissues provided to handle the donuts. He was pulling out donuts with his bare hands.

GAG!

If I had any desire for a donut, it went right out the window. I hope southerners are more considerate.

And he's off!

Hi everyone, this is the opening post of my new blog. This Yankee is still in the north, but within a few months I will be relocating to Dixie. I've met a southern belle, and she's all that and a bag of chips. She's wonderful enough to motivate me to move to a foreign land. Er, I mean the south.

You will bear witness to my preparations to move, the move itself, and afterward to me adjusting to my new home and life. It will also be home to random musings, pontifications on root beer, and whatever else might crawl out of my addled mind.

I'm done for now, but don't worry... I'll be back.

Take care,

John