I don't know if I've ever mentioned before how many blind or visually-impaired people ride some of the same buses I do.  This is because the Kentucky School for the Blind is on Frankfort Ave. in my old Clifton neighborhood; consequently there are quite a few blind people who live nearby and ride the bus to and from school or to other places.  All of the buses I normally take go by or near the School.  On my ride this morning, a young man with a seeing-eye dog (a yellow lab) boarded at the School for the Blind and rode into town at the front of the bus.

I'm always fascinated at the rapport between someone and his or her guide dog.  It's a good thing the blind can't see me staring because I watch to see how easily the dog takes to his new environment, leads his human to a seat and then sits patiently next to him.  They seem so calm and well-behaved, totally unlike how I imagine my own dogs would be in the same situation.  I know they're selected for even temperament (the dogs, I mean), and extensively trained to be nonchalant about all the sights and sounds (and sniffable crotches) all around that would drive most dogs crazy.  But still, it touches me how close that bond between man and his best friend is, how a dog offers not only companionship, but also mobility and freedom for someone who might not otherwise have it.  There'll be a few extra ear scratches tonight for Mabel and Alfie when I get home.

Check out my latest at Our Big Gayborhood.

Can't you feel the excitement?!

This horse guards a busy intersection in the heart of Stylish Acres, in front of Gross Diamond Co. jewelers.
( Is it a diamond in the rough? )

An update on my mom:  I think she'll be leaving the hospital either this morning or tomorrow morning, going to a nursing home for rehab before she can go back home.  There was fluid on her lungs (for which they gave her lots of Lasix), and mild congestive heart failure (as I think I mentioned before), but I don't think she's strong enough to go straight home to Shady Pines retirement home.  She's still breathing a little heavier than she should.  We've got her a wheelchair so dad can eventually wheel her down to meals so she doesn't have to walk the whole way.  Hopefully that will make her life a little easier.

Hope you can rustle up a spankin' today.

Just had too many other things on my mind.  My older brother took my mom in to the hospital early this afternoon; we just got tired of trying to figure out what was wrong with her and why she was so winded.  She was admitted this evening.  They gave her an oxygen tube and lots of Lasix, so she'll be up all night peeing, she said.

They found mild congestive heart failure--not enough to cause her trouble breathing, according to her doctor, who I spoke to tonight.  She thinks with her history of a stroke there might be a clot.  She also asked if mom had been "coded" -- I didn't know what that meant.  It means "do not resuscitate," from what I understand.  I said we hadn't really talked about that as a family, but a minute later I walked back in to her room and the nurse had separately asked her if she wanted to be resuscitated as part of his routine set of questions.  Mom said no.  He called her doctor in to hear it too.  I know it's what she wants, but it just took meby surprise to hear her say it.

She'll see a cardiologist tomorrow morning.  After that, we'll see what the next step is. 

OK, so it's really Friday......or is it?

Nothin' gets my heart racing like realizing it's Friday (well, a few things do -- seeing Ryan Reynolds in a towel, for instance -- but bear with me).....( and speaking of racing hearts..... )

Today's horse, "Humanity," was taken on a rainy day last month, when I was getting a few pictures of the Humana Building.  I noticed this skittish mare taking cover near the main entrance, but she agreed to let me take her pic when I offered her a carrot, but she wouldn't move into brighter lighting.  What a diva!
( Click here to see..... )

Final note:  Gary mentioned that I never posted the results of the "Reader's Choice" poll from two weeks ago.  So, here they are:

Roofs-n-Hoofs
3 (50.0%)
Louis' Horse
2 (33.3%)
Gogh, Starr, Gogh
1 (16.7%)
Curds and Whey
1 (16.7%)

Yesterday was the longest day of the year (so far).  I took a personal day off to take Mom to the hospital for some tests that her doctor ordered.  Back around Christmas, she was winded very easily walking down the hallway from their apartment at Shady Pines, noticeably more than at Thanksgiving.  So my older brother took her to the doctor the week after Christmas, and she scheduled some tests, which were postponed due to the weather last week.

So my older brother called me Monday night and asked if I could take her Tuesday morning at 11.  "Sure," I said.  He and his wife are dealing with their own issues, so I was glad to do it.  She needed a pulmonary function test, an X-ray, and some bloodwork, retesting potassium levels which were high at her doctor's office.

Well, we get there -- and thank god that the hospital offered a wheelchair for her at the door, or there's no way she would have made it around everywhere we needed to go -- and no one has any record of her being scheduled for anything yesterday!  But, they were able to work her in to the outpatient lab.  It was only a short wait for her labwork, a little longer for her X-rays, which were very difficult to accomplish since she can't sit up straight or hold her hands over her head very long.  So, we ended up leaving her in her wheelchair, which was easier for her to sit in, and I stood in front of her, holding her arms up for the X-rays.  Two down, one more to go.... but I knew the pulmonary test would probably be the hardest on her, especially when they said they couldn't get her in until 2 p.m!  It was only noon.

So, we went down to the coffee shop for some lunch for 45 minutes, then wheeled over to the respiratory therapy section and waited.  I made some calls to update, while mom got more impatient and wanted to just go home.  (Later on the phone, my brother and I joked that mom must have loved the experience, getting to spend a whole day of quality time with her son.)  Well, around 2 they took her back for her pulmonary test, and mom said, "It's about time," and the nurse said, "Well, you were originally scheduled for tomorrow."  My jaw dropped.  We were told the wrong day!  Odd that no one could have figured that out earlier when we first got there, but next time I will know to call ahead and make sure.

The pulmonary test did not go well.  Mom wouldn't (or couldn't) follow the nurse's instructions on the more complicated functions ("blow out and hold for 5 seconds." etc.).  So they called her doctor, and she had them take some more bloodwork instead.  Mom was worn out by the time we were done, as I was.

Getting old is a bitch.  Mom has trouble getting around, and now trouble taking care of herself with basic things.  On top of that, she never tells anyone when she's having trouble.  Partly, I think it's that she's not quite aware of everything, and thinks that if she ignores it, it will go away -- the opposite of a hypochondriac.  But another part is surely the feeling of losing her independence and dignity bit by bit.... the fear that any problem she reports could send her to the hospital for days, even weeks.  It's not a pretty picture either way, because waiting means something serious will only get worse, and an outpatient trip to the hospital becomes instead an extended stay.  I don't expect she will change at this point, so we'll all just have to deal with it.

Here's a pic taken today of the Penis Building, with white stuff falling around it.  You can barely make it out, top center.

This week's horse is located in the up-and-coming East Market arts district, in a historic neighborhood called Phoenix Hill.  Some of the Bloody Monday (anti-immigrant, mostly anti-Catholic) riots in 1855 occurred in Phoenix Hill near the St. Martin of Tours church.  I remember visiting that church when I was in Catholic grade school, and being freaked out by the relics of two early Saints that were encased in glass on the altar.  Even a 2-thousand year old skeleton must look good, all pomp and circumstance and dressed up for church, but I digress....
( See it rise, right before you eyes.... )

Straight With a Twist:

aworldofprogress.com/coming-out-with-a-twist/

Today, I thought I would post a year-end reader's choice poll of your favorite horse so far.  I tried to pick the ones that drew the most comments (especially favorable ones), or had the most variety.

( Click here to review and Vote )If you check "Other," please comment which one..... I'll try to include that in a poll next year if another one gets a lot of votes.  [I should add that if you click the "gallopalooza" tag, you will see all the entries.]

Happy New Year!

No Gallopalooza today, since Santa needed all the horses to haul the toys onto the tarmac at his Sleighport.  But next Thursday, I promise I'll post a year-end poll so you can vote on your favorite horse.  I've noticed that many of them have already been moved from the spots I first photographed them.  I guess when they are bought, the new owner moves them.

Many of you have reported suffering from the latest rounds of winter weather.  Here in Stylish Acres, we've been hit hard as well.
( Click here to see Blizzard 2009 )re with.

Who the hell is Carol? Last Thursday, on my last day of work before Christmas, I made my rounds delivering cards and some candy to select coworkers before anyone else had gotten in.  Well, I got an email about an hour later from one of these coworkers, a good friend really, who said to me, "You have more Christmas spirit than anyone else I know."

"Moi?!"  I wondered.  I mean, I didn't really take it as an insult, and I know it wasn't meant to be, but it just surprised me that someone couldn't tell I was faking the whole thing.  I'm not religious, and take some small offense at how commercial it is, and how much earlier it creeps every year.  Why, the very idea!

Christmas and I have a love-hate relationship.  We didn't have a lot growing up, but maybe that was a blessing in disguise.  I don't ever expect to get a new big-screen TV -- that wouldn't even fit under the tree!  What I remember about Christmas as a kid, though, was the hustle and bustle beforehand, shopping, putting up the tree, baking cookies, and getting a box from my grandma in Buffalo with her homemade fruitcake in it (yes, I am one of the few who actually likes fruitcake, and none will ever taste as good as grandma's -- doesn't hurt that it was soaked in brandy).  We opened one gift on Christmas Eve, but after believing in Santa Claus was passé, we opened them all that day.  We would usually go riding around looking at lights afterward, and then went to a packed Midnight Mass.  But the occasion rarely lived up to the hype of the season, goodwill toward men ended the next day, you went back to hating your brother, etc.  So I endured a pre-emptive holiday malaise, of trying -- wanting -- to feel the magic of Christmas while you just knew your hopes and dreams would be run over by reindeer yet again.

So, as I came back from walking the dogs and took off my pointy-eared elf hat, I wondered if there could really be something to what my coworker said.  Do I really have Christmas spirit?  Can you have it when you think you don't?

There's a beautiful movie I saw last year called, Paris, Je T'aime, a collection of short films set in each of the 18 neighborhoods of Paris (An NYC version was recently released).  At the beginning of one of these films, a husband is meeting his wife for lunch.  He is planning to ask her for a divorce so he can marry his younger mistress, but before he can do that, she tells him that she is dying from some unnamed terminal illness.  That was the game-changer.  He broke things off with the mistress and dedicated his life to making his wife comfortable, to enjoying all the time they had left together.  There's a line from that segment that still touches me:  "In pretending to be a man in love, he became a man in love."

And so, in pretending to love Christmas for years, I guess I have become someone who does.  In my mind, I know it will never be as magical as it was when I was a child.  And there's never enough time for all the socially-conditioned merriment, shopping, and baking you want to do.  And I know that the world will still be a cruel place for too many, that all the egg nog and fa-la-las in the world can't help.  But that's not really the point.  Because in my heart, I know it's enough to see the world as better than it is, just for one day, one week, maybe one month in December.  And that's the gift that really keeps on giving.

This week's horse will be brought to you in the ancient and wise language of LOLcat. It's our latest obsession at work right now. ( klik her 2 C ... )

I haven't done a lot of posting lately so I thought it was time for an update....

Today is our designated "grazing day" at work, where everyone brings in cookies and treats so we can graze all day long and fatten ourselves up for the corporate slaughter next year. (I'm sure that last part isn't true.) I made some Hello Dolly cookies, replacing chocolate chips on top with red and green Christmas M&M's for a more festive look. Already I've sampled some oatmeal cookies, chocolate no-bake cookies and chocolate cookies, veggies and assorted dips. Looks like there's meatballs and other warm goodies coming in now.

It's a good thing I'm off Friday and all next week to finish shopping. I have to finish my own gifts and shop for my parents who can't get around very well anymore. So far, I've decorated or helped to decorate 3 trees..... I think I'm all jingled out! There's always so much to do this time of year. I try to stay in the holiday spirit but it does get tiring sometimes. I guess I should appreciate being able to do all this, and for having people in my life that make it all worthwhile. Sorry for the rant, and I hope everyone is enjoying the Holiday spirit (if not wine and spirits).

Yesterday, Lisa's festive card and ornament arrived here, and then this morning we have snow flurries while I'm out walking the dogs. Today is my Christmas party at work, so it's like someone is trying to suggest something for today's Gallopalooza entry.

( ok, ok, I can take a hint..... )

Some musings of a middle-aged fart....

http://aworldofprogress.com/serenity-now/

There are all kinds of tv networks these days. From Lifetime ("Entertainment for Women") and Spike ("Entertainment for Straight Men") to Bravo ("Entertainment for Gay Men and the Women Who Love Them"). And then there's Hallmark - "Entertainment for People Who Think it's the 1950s." Case in point: last night Kelly and I watched a movie called "A Dog Named Christmas" that we recorded off of said channel. It's based on a book of the same name by Greg Kincaid.

If you haven't seen it, or even heard of it, here's a link. Basically, here's the synopsis: all the McCray kids are grown up and moved away from the family farm except for one "special needs" boy - actually a young man - named Todd McCray. Todd loves to take care of animals, especially injured wildlife, but dad resists letting him get a dog for a special "adopt a dog for Christmas" program at the local shelter, and which is an actual program. See, Dad had his heart broken by the loss of two dogs early in his life, and doesn't want Todd to go through the same thing. It's like someone entered a few plot keywords ("dogs," "farm," "Christmas") into a program, and out popped the screenplay, it was that predictable. But if that was all there was to it, I wouldn't bother to post about it.

Even though our emotions were being manipulated in scene after scene, and more importantly, we knew they were doing it, we still cried on cue, looking over at each other and laughing at ourselves crying our eyes out. We're only human after all. There's only so many looks at all those homeless dogs that Todd had to choose from in the shelter, or flashbacks to the dog that Dad left behind in Vietnam (the one that saved Dad's life - oops, did I forget that plot keyword?) .. only so much that two dog-lovin' hearts can take before the water works start. Every ten minutes I reached down to pet Alfie, sprawled on the ottoman with his head on my legs. And Kelly did the same to Mabel, who was curled up into a ball on his lap. Anyway, keep a box of kleenex handy. You don't want to need it, but you know you will.....

And speaking of Christmas, it looks like a flight of sugarplum fairies came over yesterday and barfed up Christmas in the living room. ( I wiped up most of it... )

Today's horse was on 4th Street, in front of the Visitors Center downtown.

( take a visit here..... )