SORRY, NO LETTER THIS YEAR
I just could not get a Moss Family Letter 2011 done, so excuse my pathetic lameness as I offer a bit of cheerful, newsy repartee to lighten your Holiday load, so to speak.
THE HOCKEY PART
I have unmercifully abused my dear son-in-law Chris (aka LuckyMan SB) for not introducing me to his passion, NHL hockey. And of course I mean, particularly, the San Jose Sharks. Although he has season tickets, he has offered the weak-ass excuse that the seats are at the very last row of the highest section of HP Pavilion, so he thinks I could not make it up there. Horseshit, I say, but I continued to patiently wait for an invite.
To hold up my end of the deal, I brought he and Leslie to Rennsport Reunion at Laguna Seca, and they loved it. So OK, dude, I took you to a race, looks like it's your turn. Well, let me say Chris really stepped up when he landed SECOND ROW SEATS to see the Sharks take on Florida. We were excited to say the least.
The scene in Downtown San Jose when the Sharks play at home is totally off the hizzle. There have been lots more entertainment and dining opportunities added to the city since I first wandered around during my halcyon San Jose Medical Center days. And believe me, the restaurants, bars, and streets were teaming with folks in numerous forms of teal and black Sharks gear. Luckily, Chris loaned me an appropriate jersey and a hat so I looked totally cool. We enjoyed dinner at La Pinata from their Sharks Express menu, then hailed one of the many free pedal-driven "rickshaws" for a lift to The Tank.
It is totally nuts inside the arena. And in second row seats, the action is absolutely incredible. So quick, so violent, and I am in awe of anyone who can even barely ice skate, so these guys blew me away. It is hard to follow the puck, but just the high-velocity action is fascinating, as are all the lights, noise, and general spectacle. Just for extra fun, right behind us was a completely shit-faced "chick" who looked like she was about to upchuck on Sandy C., and had to be removed by security.
I am still amazed, but I am sure those excellent seats have spoiled me. Seeing it on TV is just not even close to the same, and Chris' "nosebleed" seats may be kinda far away. But what the hell, I am not likely to become a hardcore fan but now I have seen it in all of its violent beauty. So you are (mostly) off the hook, LuckyMan...it was awesome, and thank you again.
THE ROCKY PART
I am not referring to climbing on anything, nor am I remembering any films with Sylvester Stallone. I am talking ROCK 'N' ROLL, baby. Old Time Rock 'n' Roll, to be more specific. If you are guessing Bob Seger, you are right on. When I saw the ad for tickets, I wished I could go. I really like his music, which I listen to a lot especially at the gym. It helps me exercise. So, like an idiot, I went online and got two without checking with my dear Cheryl. Yes, she was steamed, but she doesn't get too outwardly mean, as many readers may know. By the time we went, all resentment had vanished, and the music was about to begin.
Needless to say, it truly ROCKED. Bob and the ol' Silver Bullet Band were in rare form, and with three encores, all favorite numbers were performed. I know today's big stars like Katy Perry and Lady Gaga have spectacular shows with fire, explosions, costumes, dancing around and such, but just gimme a great rock 'n' roll singer and appropriate backing, and there you have it. Quite a fun evening, and well worth the abuse from my wonderful spouse. I agreed to accept this show as my own Hanukkah and Christmas present to myself, and who knows what I want better than me?
OTHER PARTS
At the Transplant Recipient International Organization (TRIO) Holiday dinner, we all looked forward to our annual get-together in Sunnyvale to not only dine with fellow recipients and friends, but to honor and remember our donors as well as those who were not as lucky as I to receive a transplant in time. Each grateful recipient hangs an ornament on the tree and has a personal Holiday thought for our donor families.
To our complete and delighted surprise, TRIO's president, Steve O., announced Cheryl and I as Members of the Year, presenting us with a beautiful gift basket of goodies. When I was helped up on my feet after falling on the floor, I was able (barely) to thank Steve and the Board for a truly awesome honor. In truth, TRIO has been a forceful helping factor for us ever since our dear Grammy Joan dragged me kicking and screaming to our first meeting, now almost nine years ago. Thank you, Steve and Board, for this great treat.
I end this Holiday Edition with yet another emotional transplant experience. My good friend from CTDN, Laura S., serves as a liaison between the nursing staffs of several area hospitals and the Network. She gets the first call from a nurse, usually from the ER or ICU, that a potential donor situation could occur. Laura conducts a phone screening, then evaluates the conditions on site. Further, she is involved in retrieval and one end of the transport process. One of her responsibilities is Eden Medical Center in Castro Valley.
Early in the morning of February 6, 2010, a young gunshot victim arrived at the ER from Union City. This was Ruben Bernal, Jr. In ICU, he was declared brain dead and the donation process began. The operating room was prepared and organs were retrieved. Ruben's heart and one kidney went to UCSF Medical Center, where I was waiting on 10 Long. On February 9 and 10, these organs were successfully transplanted into my body.
When I told Laura that Ruben had been taken to Eden, she informed the OR nursing managers, and they were instantly interested in meeting me. With all the important privacy issues, hospital staff never find anything out about the disposition of organs originating from their own facility. So to meet one very lucky local recipient would be a rare occurrence. Laura asked if I would come to a monthly staff meeting, and of course I eagerly agreed to do so.
Cherie and I arrived at Eden for the 7:00 am meeting as the managers were preparing breakfast, right in the meeting room Belgian waffles, eggs, bacon......it was incredible. I said a few words and showed the group our pictures of Ruben, Mama Luz, and Team Ruben. The response was quite overwhelming, especially from two OR techs in the group who had prepared and assisted in the OR during the operation. Emotional, to say the very least. We were in kind of a daze for hours thereafter, since this was another major encounter along the ever-changing Transplant Turnpike.
We hope everyone has a most wonderful Holiday, and a healthy 2012. We are grateful to be where we are right now, as we are every single day when we see Ruben's picture and think of him and the Bernal/Tovar family. Now, it's back to the Turnpike which is looking straight and smooth at the moment.
Bob/Irv
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Saturday, December 3, 2011
A Salute and a Poot For Our Troops
HOT OFF THE WIRE
Excuse me for starting out this long-anticipated blog on such a low-brow level, but we here at the Trib just received an important communique from our sister publication, The Military Times. Seems some Afghani civilians and soldiers complained about excessively audible flatulence coming from a US Marine facility. The Corps issued a directive ordering our fine fighting men and women (are there women Marines?) to restrain themselves. Our embedded reporter on the scene doubted the effectiveness of the order, pointing out that farting (OK, I've said it) is "practically a sport" amongst our troops.
I mean, what group of guys and girls (yes, girls, if you were in our room at Capitola recently) could resist a bit of Fun Flatulence when the opportunity is ripe, er, I mean right? One of my most prized and meaningful educational experiences at UCSB (and there weren't many) was being introduced to this fine pastime. The practice was not approved by Mom in my early years, and contrary to what you may be stinking, er, I mean thinking, is, what about Dad? Don't recall any occurrences, so imagine my amazement when various college buddies (who shall remain nameless because, well, because they had no names. Strange, eh?) introduced me to not only live examples of the art, but a singularly incredible recorded version of an actual farting competition (won by a guy named Rip, as I recall) held in the UK. I am not making this up. Well, not much, anyway.
NOW THAT I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION...
The story I have been asked for the most is definitely about our wonderful vacation. Seriously, many of you have expressed a burning (see above) desire to know every minute detail of the journey. Every meal, every adult beverage, every excursion, and every encounter with our butler, Rony. Ooops, I let the proverbial cat (not Lucy) outta the bag...we had a frickin' butler fer cryin' out loud. But I must disappoint many of you by only sharing the highlights of the voyage, since I forgot all those delicious details for which you are hungering. Delicious...hungering...pretty cool literary moves, yes?
OK, so we fly to Rome, stay a night a block from the Spanish Steps, and then are whisked by private chaffeur-driven Mercedes to Civitavecchia, where the Oceania Marina awaits. The newest and first bespoke ship built for the cruise line, Marina is a knockout. Decor, staff, and most of all food and beverage are beyond compare. Not knowing what in the hell Rony is supposed to do, we founder around to assign him busywork like keeping me stocked with Diet Coke (Coke Zero is NA) and finding a roll of duct tape to repair our shitty new luggage that was brutalized somewhere by one of those luggage-handling apes you see on TV commercials.
Our port stops are numerous, with only one day at sea. First to Livorno touring Tuscany, then Corsica (rude Frenchman), Sardinia (no evidence of sardines), Sorrento (weird trip to Capri singing Volare on the bus with our affable guide/salesman, Luigi), Palermo (miserable weather, good gelato), and Malta. After the aforementioned day at sea, next is a very depressing but riot-free Athens. There are not many operating businesses and unending grafitti, but we do snag a killer Greek lunch at a farmer's market. Oh, yeah, you do know you can always find a decent "comfort stop" at any McD's, right? Saved me many times on Interstate 5. Well, forget about it in Athens. Enough said.
Volos, Greece was gloomy and largely boring on a Sunday, so we stayed aboard. This is certainly not a bad thing, since there are multitudinous things to do on such a cool vessel. A major highlight of the trip was taking a Greek cooking class with Chef Kelly as we sailed away into a beautiful Greek sunset.
Our private tour of the ruins at Ephesus (Turkey) was another outstanding happening. Absolutely amazing to say the least. End of the line, Istanbul. Here, another private tour gave us a quick look at a very cool huge city, one that we both would do again in a minute. Both of our highly-knowledgeable guides were effusive in their praise of their country. Great education, great government, great work ethic, low unemployment, stable finances and overall a very happy situation.
When I asked each what was the biggest thing wrong with Turkey, one said "earthquakes" and the other indicated "our neighbors", meaning Iran, Iraq, Syria....you know, those fine, peace-loving countries we all adore, and who mutually adore us. And of course Turks just laugh at their traditional adversaries, the Greeks. "All they do is play around and drink ouzo all day" was the reason for the economic train wreck in Greece. Ok, if you say so....
I have to mention that we met loads of very nice people on the cruise. We encouraged sitting with others at dinners, which produced some truly memorable experiences. They were enhanced by taking place in one of the four specialty restaurants available, beside the main dining room and the amazing buffet. Oh, and also at numerous locations dispensing Martini-like refreshments. And tea. And crumpets. " I have nasty habits, I take tea at three" kept running through my (alleged) brain, as all of you 'Stones fans can appreciate.
A particularly grueling return to SF via Lufthansa brought our long-anticipated dream vacation to a bittersweet ending. We were unbelievably fortunate to have this opportunity, due to Cheryl's expert work with Oceania as well as the generous upgrades from the cruise line. More evidence of travel advisor excellence at work here too. And although we were more than prepared for any medical incidents, none were experienced. Outstanding.
A SUMMARY OF OTHER ADVENTURES
* Rennsport Reunion, a gathering of Porsche racing vehicles from over 60 years of competition history at Laguna Seca, Monterey. Great sharing the experience with our kids, our cousins and very closest friends.
* Hair, that iconic musical from the distant past. Excellent again today, in modern times, and an opportunity to join the cast onstage at the end to remove all clothing and boogie to "Let the Sunshine In". Really. Don't believe me? Go to this site and see for yourself. Be patient and look for the dork with the hat on the right side of the video. http://eparty.shnsf.com/1320876000
* Go-karting with The Guys here in Liverwitz, no fatalities reported. Some nausea, though, but barf bags were not provided.
* Several John Muir old-folk events...the observance of the retirement of my good friend Rita C. after 34 years of service, then an enjoyable afternoon at the annual Retiree Luncheon.
* The triumphal return yet again to lovely Capitola and the Venetian for our family Thanksgiving. Particular thanks to bro-in-law Pat for including Ruben in his saying of grace before the main event. Cheryl and I hung about to see Santa surfing in as we enjoyed the sunny scene from the patio at Zelda's.
* Concerning donor-related activities, there have been quite a few. Our friends Barbara and Bart asked if I would speak briefly at First Presbyterian Church on the occasion of Donor Sabbath. This was most gratifying and I was humbled to be invited. Some other CTDN events included the employee benefits fair for East Bay Regional Parks, a nursing symposium at Safeway's main office conference center, and speaking to three health class sessions at Concord High School.
* A most satisfying movie-and-adult beverages evening here at our very own Vine Theater. Yeah, they serve wine, beer, and food from the next-door restaurant at this once-tired, longtime Liverstein landmark. Longtime, Liverstein, landmark...man, that is some hell of alliteration there. And the film, you ask? The Descendents, and don't you dare miss it.
LET'S CALL IT A WRAP
Well, alright, it's a wrap. Happy now? Good. I profusely apologize to every single reader out there for taking so long to do this here article. That of course explains it's length, and again my apologies on that score as well.
We have many exciting (and a few not so exciting) arrangements for this Holiday month, so please do start checking here at The Transplant Tribune on an hourly basis to get the straight poop (see above) on, well, on everything Me-related. It's all about Me, isn't it? Kinda reminds Me of the roughly 4 1/2 hours of useless TV coverage
awaiting the (hold your breath Here) decision of The Pizza Guy to end his unbelievably lame swipe at the White House. Sorry to get political, but "turning around" Godfather's Pizza, which by the way I don't consider "turned around", is not what I call great credentials for The Big Job. So, OK, he gave this woman money and job counseling for 13 years, but didn't lay a hand (??) on her. Hmmmmm......if you say so, Herman.
I digress. Enough already with the ranting. I wish everyone Merry Shopping, even at Wal-Mart, and a most joyful Hanukkah, Christmas and Kwanzaa. If you see me on the Transplant Turnpike (already in progress), please flash your lights. I can't hear your horn anymore. Whazzat you said?
Bob/Irv
Excuse me for starting out this long-anticipated blog on such a low-brow level, but we here at the Trib just received an important communique from our sister publication, The Military Times. Seems some Afghani civilians and soldiers complained about excessively audible flatulence coming from a US Marine facility. The Corps issued a directive ordering our fine fighting men and women (are there women Marines?) to restrain themselves. Our embedded reporter on the scene doubted the effectiveness of the order, pointing out that farting (OK, I've said it) is "practically a sport" amongst our troops.
I mean, what group of guys and girls (yes, girls, if you were in our room at Capitola recently) could resist a bit of Fun Flatulence when the opportunity is ripe, er, I mean right? One of my most prized and meaningful educational experiences at UCSB (and there weren't many) was being introduced to this fine pastime. The practice was not approved by Mom in my early years, and contrary to what you may be stinking, er, I mean thinking, is, what about Dad? Don't recall any occurrences, so imagine my amazement when various college buddies (who shall remain nameless because, well, because they had no names. Strange, eh?) introduced me to not only live examples of the art, but a singularly incredible recorded version of an actual farting competition (won by a guy named Rip, as I recall) held in the UK. I am not making this up. Well, not much, anyway.
NOW THAT I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION...
The story I have been asked for the most is definitely about our wonderful vacation. Seriously, many of you have expressed a burning (see above) desire to know every minute detail of the journey. Every meal, every adult beverage, every excursion, and every encounter with our butler, Rony. Ooops, I let the proverbial cat (not Lucy) outta the bag...we had a frickin' butler fer cryin' out loud. But I must disappoint many of you by only sharing the highlights of the voyage, since I forgot all those delicious details for which you are hungering. Delicious...hungering...pretty cool literary moves, yes?
OK, so we fly to Rome, stay a night a block from the Spanish Steps, and then are whisked by private chaffeur-driven Mercedes to Civitavecchia, where the Oceania Marina awaits. The newest and first bespoke ship built for the cruise line, Marina is a knockout. Decor, staff, and most of all food and beverage are beyond compare. Not knowing what in the hell Rony is supposed to do, we founder around to assign him busywork like keeping me stocked with Diet Coke (Coke Zero is NA) and finding a roll of duct tape to repair our shitty new luggage that was brutalized somewhere by one of those luggage-handling apes you see on TV commercials.
Our port stops are numerous, with only one day at sea. First to Livorno touring Tuscany, then Corsica (rude Frenchman), Sardinia (no evidence of sardines), Sorrento (weird trip to Capri singing Volare on the bus with our affable guide/salesman, Luigi), Palermo (miserable weather, good gelato), and Malta. After the aforementioned day at sea, next is a very depressing but riot-free Athens. There are not many operating businesses and unending grafitti, but we do snag a killer Greek lunch at a farmer's market. Oh, yeah, you do know you can always find a decent "comfort stop" at any McD's, right? Saved me many times on Interstate 5. Well, forget about it in Athens. Enough said.
Volos, Greece was gloomy and largely boring on a Sunday, so we stayed aboard. This is certainly not a bad thing, since there are multitudinous things to do on such a cool vessel. A major highlight of the trip was taking a Greek cooking class with Chef Kelly as we sailed away into a beautiful Greek sunset.
Our private tour of the ruins at Ephesus (Turkey) was another outstanding happening. Absolutely amazing to say the least. End of the line, Istanbul. Here, another private tour gave us a quick look at a very cool huge city, one that we both would do again in a minute. Both of our highly-knowledgeable guides were effusive in their praise of their country. Great education, great government, great work ethic, low unemployment, stable finances and overall a very happy situation.
When I asked each what was the biggest thing wrong with Turkey, one said "earthquakes" and the other indicated "our neighbors", meaning Iran, Iraq, Syria....you know, those fine, peace-loving countries we all adore, and who mutually adore us. And of course Turks just laugh at their traditional adversaries, the Greeks. "All they do is play around and drink ouzo all day" was the reason for the economic train wreck in Greece. Ok, if you say so....
I have to mention that we met loads of very nice people on the cruise. We encouraged sitting with others at dinners, which produced some truly memorable experiences. They were enhanced by taking place in one of the four specialty restaurants available, beside the main dining room and the amazing buffet. Oh, and also at numerous locations dispensing Martini-like refreshments. And tea. And crumpets. " I have nasty habits, I take tea at three" kept running through my (alleged) brain, as all of you 'Stones fans can appreciate.
A particularly grueling return to SF via Lufthansa brought our long-anticipated dream vacation to a bittersweet ending. We were unbelievably fortunate to have this opportunity, due to Cheryl's expert work with Oceania as well as the generous upgrades from the cruise line. More evidence of travel advisor excellence at work here too. And although we were more than prepared for any medical incidents, none were experienced. Outstanding.
A SUMMARY OF OTHER ADVENTURES
* Rennsport Reunion, a gathering of Porsche racing vehicles from over 60 years of competition history at Laguna Seca, Monterey. Great sharing the experience with our kids, our cousins and very closest friends.
* Hair, that iconic musical from the distant past. Excellent again today, in modern times, and an opportunity to join the cast onstage at the end to remove all clothing and boogie to "Let the Sunshine In". Really. Don't believe me? Go to this site and see for yourself. Be patient and look for the dork with the hat on the right side of the video. http://eparty.shnsf.com/1320876000
* Go-karting with The Guys here in Liverwitz, no fatalities reported. Some nausea, though, but barf bags were not provided.
* Several John Muir old-folk events...the observance of the retirement of my good friend Rita C. after 34 years of service, then an enjoyable afternoon at the annual Retiree Luncheon.
* The triumphal return yet again to lovely Capitola and the Venetian for our family Thanksgiving. Particular thanks to bro-in-law Pat for including Ruben in his saying of grace before the main event. Cheryl and I hung about to see Santa surfing in as we enjoyed the sunny scene from the patio at Zelda's.
* Concerning donor-related activities, there have been quite a few. Our friends Barbara and Bart asked if I would speak briefly at First Presbyterian Church on the occasion of Donor Sabbath. This was most gratifying and I was humbled to be invited. Some other CTDN events included the employee benefits fair for East Bay Regional Parks, a nursing symposium at Safeway's main office conference center, and speaking to three health class sessions at Concord High School.
* A most satisfying movie-and-adult beverages evening here at our very own Vine Theater. Yeah, they serve wine, beer, and food from the next-door restaurant at this once-tired, longtime Liverstein landmark. Longtime, Liverstein, landmark...man, that is some hell of alliteration there. And the film, you ask? The Descendents, and don't you dare miss it.
LET'S CALL IT A WRAP
Well, alright, it's a wrap. Happy now? Good. I profusely apologize to every single reader out there for taking so long to do this here article. That of course explains it's length, and again my apologies on that score as well.
We have many exciting (and a few not so exciting) arrangements for this Holiday month, so please do start checking here at The Transplant Tribune on an hourly basis to get the straight poop (see above) on, well, on everything Me-related. It's all about Me, isn't it? Kinda reminds Me of the roughly 4 1/2 hours of useless TV coverage
awaiting the (hold your breath Here) decision of The Pizza Guy to end his unbelievably lame swipe at the White House. Sorry to get political, but "turning around" Godfather's Pizza, which by the way I don't consider "turned around", is not what I call great credentials for The Big Job. So, OK, he gave this woman money and job counseling for 13 years, but didn't lay a hand (??) on her. Hmmmmm......if you say so, Herman.
I digress. Enough already with the ranting. I wish everyone Merry Shopping, even at Wal-Mart, and a most joyful Hanukkah, Christmas and Kwanzaa. If you see me on the Transplant Turnpike (already in progress), please flash your lights. I can't hear your horn anymore. Whazzat you said?
Bob/Irv
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