My dad, grandpa and our Chicago Blackhawks.

On June 1st, 1992 I remember going into my dads bedroom where he was layin down watching tv. I sat on the edge of the bed, wondering what he was watching.  Turns out it was game 4 of the 1992 Stanley Cup Finals, which was the Chicago Blackhawks vs Pittsburgh Penguins. I remember asking question after question and he was happy to answer, even though the Hawks were about to get swept in the Finals.  What I didn’t know at the time was just how much my dad enjoyed the Hawks.

It wasn’t until a few years later in 1994 when I was in 8th grade that I actually learned how much the Hawks meant. My dad surprised me with tickets to my first Hawks game.  He said he wanted me to experience the sights and smells of the old Chicago Stadium. Now if you have ever been to Chicago Stadium, you know that it was old, small, smelly, and loud.

Looking back now, the best part wasn’t going to the game, but hearing the stories that my dad had of being a kid and running up the stairs to get a good seat for my grandpa and cousin Kenny.  My dad would talk about my grandpa taking him to Mama Schiavone bar and how some of the players would go in after the games and would chat with my dad and grandpa while that drank.  The 60’s obviously were a different time, since a young kid in a bar wouldn’t fly today.  Now after hearing these stories about Mama Schiavone’s, I figured it was just a simple high five and that was it. Then, in 2013 at the Blackhawks convention, I had the opportunity to talk to Bobby Hull as he signed my tattoo.  Of course my dad took advantage of the situation and asked Bobby if he remembered that bar.  And wouldn’t you know it, Bobby remembered. Not only did he remember, but he remembered chatting with my dad and grandpa. Of course you could chalk it up to him just agreeing for the sake of agreement.  But he started talking about the same stuff my dad told me about.  So just as my dad had the memory of meeting Hull with my grandpa, I have the memory of meeting Hull with my dad.

As I’ve stated before in a prior post, there are certain things you do with your parents, grandparents, or any family member for that matter that will lead to traditions, and those that will be etched in your mind. So tonight, almost 4 months to the day that my grandpa passed, we sit here getting ready for game 1 of the 2017/2018 NHL season. My grandma, aunts, dad and mom are all here…and even though I look to my right and see an empty red chair, I know my grandpa is sitting there.

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Chicago Blackhawks 2017

Tonight is the first preseason game for the Blackhawks. Normally, I’d be excited about this and call my dad and grandpa to see if they’re going to watch it, but not tonight. My dad and I decided not to go to the home opener, but rather watch it at his house, with my uncles, with my grandpa’s jersey on the chair he sat in. For the first time my dad will have to watch a game knowing he can’t call his dad to celebrate a win or pick him up to watch the game. Some of you may think that this is being over dramatic, but the Blackhawks were a bonding experience that was passed on through generations. Some may have memories of baking cookies with their grandma, or perhaps fishing with their grandpa, mine was celebrating a goal. As the Blackhawks take the puck past the blue line and slip the puck past the goalie, this celebration will be different, this celebration will be with tears. 318309_10150344824679326_13401254_n

Things on My Mind 7.31.17

Here are my top three TOMM in no particular order.

  1. Stupid is as stupid does.

“Surveillance video shows border protection officers encourage teen to sip liquid meth solution that killed him”-NYDAILYNEWS.    What kind of bullshit is this?  The border protection officers encouragement didn’t lead to his death, his own dumb ass choices did.  This kid knew exactly what was in those bottles.  He got caught up in a situation where he was trying to pull a fast one on the officers and that shit backfired.  If I’m going to carry liquid meth across the border and an agent tells me to drink some to prove it’s not drugs, best believe my monkey ass ain’t drinking that shit.  Fuck this dumb ass guy.

2) Hmm..I wonder what the difference between these two are?

1969 Biafra, Nov. 1969

Medical clinic in Mabaitoti - Owerri.

The picture on the left is of Charlie Gard who’s family was in the news for the past few months. He had a rare illness called mitochondrial DNA depletion syndrome.  This disease weakens the bodies tissues and brain function.  This issue here is that the doctors working on Charlie informed his parents that he should be taken off life support. They disagreed and asked to try an experimental drug on him that would reverse the illness.  Close to 490,000 people signed a petition asking that he be allowed to travel to the US for treatment.  The UK courts said nope and that’s when the US stepped in and gave Charlie citizenship so he could travel to the US without approval from the UK.  A Dr from the US came in and tried to convince the UK courts that he could help Charlie. While waiting for an answer, the family gave up and just decided to have Charlie come home and die in hospice. The hospital in all its glory said sorry, his ventilator wont fit through the door.   Well, a little to late as Charlie died a week before his birthday.

So 490,000 people came together to try to get this kid to the US.  Funny, I didn’t see a petition going around for the kids on the right. I guess my question is, why is it ok to help one but not all?  Why don’t these kids get the same news coverage as Charlie?  And no, watching Sally Struthers at 2am talk about .35c a day doesn’t count.

3) Transgender ban in the military.

If you’re willing to put your life on the line for our country, more power to you, been there done that.  However…  I personally agree with the ban.  Am I against transgender people?  No.  I just think that right now there are too many variables that the military would have to deal with.  First, going TDY.  If i present as a male today and am in an all male dorm/tent, then present as a female tomorrow, do I stay in the all male tent or does the unit officer go through the hassle of doing the paper work to move me to an all female tent/dorm? So now I’m in an all female tent, preop with a dick.  There’s 12 females in this tent with you who don’t see you as transgender, they only see you as having a dick.

Second, service members have to be  held to the same physical fitness standards of that of a male/female, not of the gender the person identifies with. Again, I’m a transgender female who is 67 inches, weighing 170 lbs, 4 lbs over the max limit. Now I present as a male whose weight limit for my age and height are 176 lbs, putting me under the limit by 6 lbs. How is that fair?

Third, it used to be that you went into the service to get free college, now you go in to get sex reassignment surgery or therapy.  The issue here is that the military has to meet a quote on how many male/females join. If you’re a male today, female tomorrow, it kind of fucks numbers up.  Also, tax payers aren’t going to be happy that their tax dollars are going to giving or taking away a penis.

Forth, you can not be combat ready if you rely on taking hormone treatments.  You can’t be in a war zone for 6 months and skip treatments, it wouldn’t be healthy and may do damage.

What about Kristin Beck? She was a part of Seal Team 6 and is transgender.  True, but she also transitioned when she got out of the military , so her argument with Trump and this ban holds no merit.

 

See you soon.

This last weekend has probably been one of the hardest times in my life.  My grandfather passed away about 2 days after being taken off of dialysis.  As the oldest grandchild, I think when it all happened, I was more worried about making sure my cousins and family were ok, rather then let my emotions get the best of me.  It was after all just a matter of time after they stopped dialysis.  Even though it was expected and you try to prepare yourself, it’s still heartbreaking.  I know some people lose them when they are young, but I’ve been blessed to have had mine through my adult years.  The first grandparent i lost was my mothers mom when i was about 19 or 20.  So now 18 years after losing my mothers mom,  I’ve lost my fathers dad. Seeing my dad at my grandpa’s bedside after he passed is an experience I do not ever want to feel again, only i know that I’ll have to go through it 4 more times.  My grandpa was awesome.  He talked shit, gave me the finger and told me he loved me all at the same time.  Today at work, I think the realization finally hit because I broke down.  I think about my dad the most. He was close to my grandpa like I am close to my dad.  He can no longer call him on the phone, or watch the Cubs or Blackhawks with him. That scares me the most. There will be a day that I wont be able to call my dad, celebrate a Hawks goal, or go golfing with him.  My grandpa hated going to the hospital for dialysis and for medical shit, so saying that I wish he was still here would be selfish on my part.  Death is inevitable and I understand that, just wish taking the lose would be easier.  Here is the picture slide show I did for the visitation.