Hammy in Heaven

It is with sadness that I inform you our hamster, Hammy, has died.

Hammy 

March 2018 (?) – March 23, 2020

We first met Hammy at a pet store when he was almost six months old. He was jumpy, a frenetic white ball of energy with light brown patches around his red eyes.  Hammy lived with us for 592 days. Those days were all good ones because he was a funny, amiable little guy.

At first we set Hammy up in a small, simple bachelor’s cage. M. decided that wasn’t good enough. Naomi agreed, so we bought him a rodent’s equivalent to Graceland as Marina’s Christmas present. His palatial cage had an exercise wheel, a basement and two levels. Multi-colored piping connected each section. It kept him busy. Like most nocturnal animals and college students, he partied at night and slept a good part of the day. We often heard his scratching and cage-bar-gnawing at night when we were trying to sleep. He liked to stuff several chunky food pellets into his cheeks, then scatter them around the cage and forget where he left them. We’d put them back in his food tray. He always looked surprised and delighted when the food pellets reappeared, like he’d won the lottery.

In his younger days Hammy would hop on the wheel and run a hamster marathon or two. In middle age, rearranging his bedding and staying warm during the cooler months were his hobbies. He loved stretching his body through those colorful connector tubes and sleeping inside his little turquoise-roofed cottage.

He would poke his nose out the window when I blew coffee flavored breath his way; it was his way of saying hi. He was a calm hamster, never bit anyone --not once-- even the many times the kids were being rough and he had every right to nibble back in defense.

We like to think that Hammy waited for our return from spring break vacation before leaving us. As though he wanted to hang with us for a little bit more before his final goodbye.

We sensed Hammy had lost his sight during the last few weeks he was alive when he had trouble scampering about. The Rising Daughters were gentle and sweet, touching him frequently and making sure he could find his water bottle. Showing love and compassion.

Hammy died on the evening of March 23, 2020. Naturally we were sad when he passed. We had a little wake for him that night. The next day, we stood in the rain and gently placed him in his beloved tiny house, then buried it in a spot picked by the girls in the backyard.  He brought this Rising Family™ much joy, and taught the girls about responsibility and life. Hammy will be missed.

M. said: “I miss you, Hammy. I hope you see your family and friends in heaven! I love you because you were nice, gentle and you were always smiling.”

“Hammy was an energetic hamster who we all loved. He was always very gentle and we want him to have the best in heaven. We love you, Hammy,” said Lady E.

“Thanks, Hammy, for helping me psychologically,” said Naomi.

Adios, amigo.

Floridated - Parte Uno

As we head into spring, here’s a look back via our Christmas 2019 road trip tale. We wanted to go someplace warm, not far, and not swank. Based on prior good times, proximity, and price, we picked Florida, with Miami as the end destination. This third trip to the Sunshine State confirmed that we l-o-v-e Florida.
I declare we have been Floridated.

Motorvatin’ southward with a purpose

The map shows it: finding the fastest route from Nashville to Miami is a no-brainer. Once you hit Georgia, follow the interstate highways with odd numbers like I-75, I-95. Don’t need no newfangled navigation! 

We arrived in Celebration, a familiar place thanks to the Rising Family’s™ visit to Disney World and last year’s trip to Tampa. Overjoyed to see tropical foliage again! Puttering around the area, we happened upon the inexplicably named 192 Flea Market. (It has over 400 booths.) Almost all the stalls got a visit from us. It was a great place to stretch our legs and it is full of bargains.

Feasting at Boston Lobster afterward brought back an old line paraphrased from The Simpsons that aptly describes my wife and daughters’ approach to all-you-can-eat seafood: “Not normal humans, they’re remorseless eating machines.”

First Stop: Kennedy Space Center

I was elated to visit this shrine to the Right Stuff. One of my favorite parts was the bus tour that took us inside Cape Canaveral to launch pad 39A. That’s where NASA prepped and launched the Apollo missions to the moon and all the Space Shuttle launches. Now SpaceX leases the area to make more space history from there. I was all wired up, craning my neck left and right during the bus tour. Marina nodded off. 

Another highlight was circling the colossal Vehicle Assembly Building (VAB), the HUGE building that was designed to assemble the already-large pre-manufactured space vehicle components, such as the massive Saturn V rockets and the Space Shuttle. The VAB facility would stack them vertically onto a humongous crawler transporter that would mulishly lug the spacecraft at around 1-2 mph from the VAB to the launchpad. Lots of superlative words are necessary to describe the scale of the Kennedy Space Center! NASA’s future Space Launch System (SLS) will also be assembled there.

The bronze statues of the three Apollo 11 astronauts also hold a special place in my heart.

Second Stop: Miami

I tamped down my resilient daydreams of space exploration and drove to Miami in our trusty Nissan Rogue. Our first foray into Miami’s downtown at night was a bit dicey, but we arrived unscathed. Our lodging was the Hotel Chateaubleu in Coral Gables. 

Courtesy of State of Florida Archives

Naomi had booked it online. She is adept at finding unique hotels at a good price. Turns out the hotel has been there in one form or another since the 1920s. 

The girls trudged up to our room. I went over to the hotel bar to reward myself with a beer, but it was deserted. It was only 21:30. Whaaa?

Courtesy of Warner Bros.

I got a tingle in my spine because I sensed an Overlook Hotel vibe. Lloyd the Bartender was nowhere to be seen, though. 

The Chateaubleu's hallway was a bit jarring as well. Too reminiscent of The Shining. Thanks a lot, Stanley Kubrick. Despite my mystic musings we all got a decent night’s sleep…welcome to Miami!

Yet more four seasons

Courtesy of Deborah James/WKRN website

Middle Tennessee has mild winters. I can write that with confidence because we are smack in the middle of my third winter here--I’ve earned my spurs. On Feb. 7, Nashville area residents woke up to snow blanketing lawns and buildings. Enough snow to make snowballs, which is rare. Enough snow that people admired the beauty of the white stuff. Where I am from in Canada it would generate groans around this time of year. In middle Tennessee, snow is welcomed because it’s so temporary. Its appearance only causes mild concern over traffic accidents and school closures.

Which brings me to the subject of this post: the seasons in Nashville as seen from the perspective of our wonderful rented house.

I’ve been doing these kind of photos since the Rising Daughters™ were born. First one was in 2011, then 2015. I see no reason to stop now! 

Winter

Spring

Summer

Fall

Aloha, dear readers!

Colonized

Courtesy of webmd.com

Colonoscopies are generally performed as part of screening programs to check for potential colon cancer. In October 2019 my insurance company gave me a colonoscopy for my 50th birthday. This “present” was to fully cover the cost of the procedure per my health insurance plan with no copayment! That’s a big deal here in the U.S., where the health care quality is excellent but the financial framework defies explanation. But who am I to bite the hand that feeds me? I was grateful to get some peace of mind about my colon’s condition. But also antsy to have a metal probe put in my pantsy, if you know what I mean.

Prologue

I am pretty sure I wrote the following passage soon after the general anesthetic wore off post-procedure.

My colon is like the river in Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. Marlowe’s boat navigates the verdant interior waterways of the Congo; it permits him to check out the deep, unexplored and unknown dark territory. The boat is the foreign vessel invading the interior of the continent. It threads the line between known and unknown and symbolizes humanity’s good and evil sides.

Preparation

Once I committed to doing it, my colon screening began with cleaning. Preparing for a colonoscopy stinks. Clearing out your bowels can be tough. You get a prescription and a pep talk from the gastroenterologist’s admitting nurse assistant, and a knowing wink from the pharmacist when you buy the colon-blow juice. You need to restrict your diet at least 24 hours before the procedure. That means stop eating at 18:00 the night before the procedure and start drinking the horrid-tasting fluids. A few number ones and number twos result and you think, what’s the big deal about this? Then the intestinal typhoon hits south of the border, and your dignity disappears as fast as you-know-what flies out of your rectum. But a clean tube for the doc is a must, so you do it.

Not much sleep the night before, and no more liquids for a few hours prior to the procedure.

Performing the screening: Into The Mystic

According to a BBC survey, this Van Morrison song’s cooling, soothing vibe has made it one of the most popular songs for surgeons to listen to while performing operations. Similarly, once I was wheeled into the operating room, I remember something reassuring, like Enya or Christopher Cross. I had a chat with the doctor while lying on my left side on the gurney, hooked up to monitors. Soon, the sedatives flowed through an IV into my arm and it was hello, la-la land. I don’t remember a thing. Zippo. But thank you for rendering me unconscious.

Courtesy of the Mayo Clinic

The doc inserted a roughly four-foot-long, flexible tube-like instrument called a colonoscope into my bunghole. It had a light and video camera on the tip so he could scrutinize the lining of my colon to find any unwelcome guests, e.g. colon cancer cells or polyps. It also pumped in air and inflated my colon, giving him a better view of my innerspace and its lining. It also induced mammoth post-op farts, adding ample opportunities for hilarity and mild shame when the nurse checked in on me in the recovery room at the wrong time.

This camera went where no camera has gone before. I was told my procedure was normal, took between 20 and 30 minutes. It was the second time in my life I have been unconscious, and not unpleasant. Just blank. They wheeled me back to my recovery room  to wake up from the sedative. Luckily, no post-op nausea. It was no different than drinking three craft beers on an empty stomach—woozy to buzzed, then slowly back to sober.

Payoff--the clinical verdict 

My biopsy samples came back negative.  As I emerged from the ether of unconsciousness, I peered at my chart fastened to the side of the gurney. I am somewhat sure a comment read: “This guy is a real asshole. But he’s cancer-free.”

I think I doth protest too much. People at normal risk for colon cancer should undergo a colonoscopy at age 50 and every 10 years after that to remove colonic polyps and check for cancer. I’m glad I did it, but can certainly wait ten years for the next one. 

2019 in rear view

It’s that time of year again. Let’s start – yikes – a new decade by looking back at the year just passed. I’d say that 2019 was a mixed bag for the Rising Family™. The first half was aces, the latter half was un-good. Come what may the Rising Family keeps chugging forward with hope in our hearts for a great new year to come.

Quotable quotes:

“All I have in my hands is sadness.” - M.

“I don’t want a boyfriend. I just wanna live my life.”  - Lady E.

Courtesy of the Todd Art Gallery, MTSU

January

January is usually a banal experience; often the hopes of a fine start to a new year slide into normal routines. Thus, January came and went as expected! Although I discovered this poster in November, it quite nicely depicts the state of my “perfectly OK” household.

February

I’ve already posted about our visit to the U.S. Space and Rocket Center in Huntsville, Alabama. Yet ‘space’ is a recurring theme of 2019. (You’ll soon hear more about our trip to the Kennedy Space Center in December.) Today is the national holiday commemorating the birth of Martin Luther King, Jr. Now that I have lived in the U.S. for enough time, I’ve come to understand the importance of this inspiring man’s life, and the tragedy of his assassination. I hope the Rising Daughters have, too.

March

Elena graduated from her elementary school program at the Japanese supplementary school of middle Tennessee. M., also attends, of course. The program mirrors the schedule of the Japanese school system so mid-March is the usual time to end the year.

Part celebration, part “when in Rome”, we drove to Destin, Florida, then on to Tampa, for spring break. It was flavored by seafood binges for my ladies and Bud Light for me. One memory was visiting the home of the Blue Jays’ spring training in Dunedin. I couldn’t wrangle a full game, but I did get a nice memory with Marina as we strolled around the facility as I whet my appetite for the baseball season to come.

April

Elena showed her violin skills when her school orchestra played a concert for parents. Marina participated in an art exhibition after her painting of a gumball machine made the cut. Both kids are displaying more artistic inclinations than their parents. Hmm.

May

Dad a.k.a. Grampa visited us for a spell in May. His being within driving distance is a major perk of our time here in Tennessee. One memory of this particular visit is his face getting redder as he resolutely ate his Nashville hot chicken at the Party Fowl joint in Murfreesboro. For the record, pride aside he opted for “Nashville Hot” grade chicken rather than “Poultrygeist.” No amount of beer can quench that fire or stimulate purging that from your digestive tract quickly enough.

In May, we also went to a drive-thru safari. The kids also visited me at my workplace to see where the family funding comes from!

June

Back to Japan to re-charge and visit family.

July

I celebrated my birthday on the road, where I belong. I also took weekend tours to Memphis and Tallahassee while the family was away. Maximized my male bonding time with friends.

August

I delight in summer’s heat. It was steamy-perfect weather to go to the county fair and cool down at the Kentucky Kingdom amusement park in south Louisville, Ky.

I took my brother and his girlfriend on an emission-free tour of downtown Nashville and Franklin in my LEAF. We had them stay for a few days and noshed on BBQ, too.

September

As the heat and humidity abated, the family went out for lengthy outdoor activities not involving waterparks. One was to the Cheekwood Estate, a Great Gatsby-type estate where we frequently go in December to see Christmas illumination lights. This time, it was Japanese Culture Day and plenty of pumpkins. 

Sep.-Oct. is also pumpkin harvest time, so the pumpkin patches also grab our attention. 

And Sports Day never disappoints.

October

A random day trip to Atlanta embodied West meets East. How’s that? 1+2= flavorful fusion.

(1) Coca-Cola is an iconic American symbol often referred to as the world’s most recognized  brand. So hell yes we went to see the wellspring of carbonated happiness by touring the World of Coke museum near the Coca-Cola Company’s world headquarters in Atlanta. We all love a cold Coke. During our visit, Elena took advantage of a software station to create her own bottle wrap.

(2) With so much Americana guzzled there, we needed a cultural balance by eating at our favorite Japanese-style tavern in America, Shoya izakaya. The food and ambience are the real, yummy deal.

Halloween: Marina went out as Abraham Lincoln. That costume was more about the cheaper second use of a social studies project prop. Don’t read too deeply into the symbolism, people.

November

The Big Feast - Thanksgiving

Our turkey was half of Marina’s weight; God bless America!

The Publix apple pie and the double vanilla ice cream blending with the juices of my mouth conjured an endless parade of satisfied grins. Later, the feasting provoked tears of chagrin as I looked at my waistline. If you’re gonna play, you gonna pay.

Another November dreary weather escape is to head out to Chattanooga to the aquarium. The Rising Family sometimes misses the aquatic life.

December

For our last Christmas in the U.S. we opted to go south. A trip to the Kennedy Space Center at Cape Canaveral was planned, followed by further movement southward to the Miami area. And that is a story for another time.

Merry Christmas 2019 & a new decade beckons

We send you Yuletide greetings for a wonderful Christmas and great start to a new decade.

The Rising Family™ skedaddled out of Tennessee for some down time in warmer climes and a break from it all. Humble brag alert: We’re on the road in sunny Florida. 

Enjoying the Kennedy Space Center at Cape Canaveral

Nothing says Merry Christmas quite like contemplating the vastness of the universe and humans' exploration of it!

Traveling or not, it’s the season of reflection, giving and gratitude. The ritual of thinking about all that’s been good and not-so-good over the course the past year. 
Saying hello and thank you never gets old, never goes out of style.

Pre-departure annual Christmas photo of the Rising Daughters® 

For our family and friends out there reading this, know this family is thinking of you on Christmas, one way or another. We wish you a heartfelt Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

A new decade, people! Means a fresh start!

Steve-O turns 3-0

[Ed. note: this post is super-family-focused. You know by now that I do these from time-to-time.]

Happy birthday my brother. You’re more three decades old. Some say turning thirty years old marks the end of youthful indiscretions that you can laugh away. Personally, I don’t buy that shit. Reject the propaganda that leaving your twenties is symbolic of losing your youth. Like most things in life, it’s all about attitude. 

Then again, thirty is as good as any age to go into overdrive and make your dreams come true. It also doesn’t have to mean you’re suddenly more mature, more self-disciplined, wiser, or more grown-up. Just roll with it, man. There’s still plenty more interesting stuff coming up, at warp speed...

That’s about all the half-baked advice that I am capable of.

My sincere wish is that you had an amazing birthday.

Anyway. 

I’ve always been proud to call you my brother.

You were a cute toddler. I was lucky to have glimpsed some of that as a quasi-adult.

I'm not sure what you were like as a teenager. This photo is hard to read. Probably, like most people, you were preoccupied with figuring yourself out.

Your twenties…establishing the base. Launchpad of adult life. Mom was always leading the cheers and extolling your many virtues. 

You’ve started a new decade in your life as we all enter the 2020s. Neat. Please thrive.

And we all love ya.

Circa 2004