A Tribute to "Papa Jer" Tomlinson

Jer was smiling down on us.

This post was a long time coming, but I allowed myself to be distracted by business and family trips.  I wanted to write a tribute before continuing with the blog.

On Tuesday, May 10, , our family received some very sad news.  G-Bug’s step-grandfather, Papa Jer, succumbed to an arduous, but ultimately too short, battle with cancer.  He passed away peacefully at his home, surrounded by his wife, Nana; G-Bug and her mom, and his eldest son.  He was able to beat the two month prognosis he received in March, to celebrate another birthday, and had his full mental faculties.  It must have been hard for him to know his physical capabilities were slowly fading away, but his family took some solace in being able to engage with him like before.  He died as he lived, as Papa Jer.

I first met Papa Jer when I was living in Boston with G-Bug’s mom, Amy, almost 20 years ago.  They were coming up the stairs in our apartment building and after I said ‘hello’ to Nana, Jer piped in with “Is this (David)?”  I’m not sure if he actually called me David, but he definitely called me by another name.  I thought he was trying to get a rise out of me, but wouldn’t take the bait and said, “Yes, I’m David.”  It was only when Nana corrected him did I realize he really didn’t know what my name was.

During that same trip the four of us had lunch at a local bistro and were walking back to the apartment afterwards.  We had just crossed CommAve when someone had called out to us.  We turned to see a cab driver had stopped and was pointing out the window toward the front of the car.  Both Amy and I started to tell the driver what the next street was if he was to go straight across CommAve.  The cab driver shook his head and pointed more emphatically toward the street in front of him.  One of the womenfolk had dropped her glove.  Sheepishly, I hurried to collect it.  As we continued our walk home, I was feeling a little silly and stayed mum for a few steps.  Jer, either to break the tension or because of his natural curiosity, stated, “I was wondering where you were trying to direct him.”  I’m pretty sure he had a glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips, and we both had a laugh at the faux pas.

My Mood Matches the Weather

Medicine Lake near my work

I had mentioned in my first blog post that I would have many “ventries,” which are venting entries.  These will be opportunities for me to complain about some slight of the day or an ongoing issue that has stuck in my craw.  Well, this will be my first ventry – and it’s a twofer.

First of all, I'm sick and tired of the crappy weather we've been having in Minnesota.  We've had about 43 days of spring and I think we had two days when the temperature APPROACHED 70 degrees.  Didn’t reach it, but approached it.  Now, those days were very nice and really put a bounce in my step.  Afterwards, however, the rug gets pulled out and I’m staring at a swirl of snowflakes a day or two later.  I mean, at noon today it was 36 degrees outside.  THIRTY-SIX DEGREES!  ON MAY SECOND!  I really believe the weather has affected my health as I have had the flu for the first time in years and my patience has worn razor thin.

The second part of my ventry is toward the woman who rode my ass on the way to work this morning.  I have a near phobia about being rear-ended while driving.  I feel I have control of the action in front and around me when I drive, but I can’t control how people drive behind me, so I get very angry when someone is on my back bumper.

Anyway, some woman in a blue Ford Escape decided to draft me this morning as we took the curve off of I-94 onto I-394.  I looked in my side view mirror and could tell she had a bagel with vegetable cream cheese for breakfast because I saw a smear on her upper lip.  I was annoyed at first, but didn’t respond as she just changed lanes behind me and I figured I would give her some time to adjust her speed.  Instead of backing off, she got closer.  Once we came out of the turn toward a relative straight portion of the ramp, I started pumping my brakes to warn her to back off.  She didn’t take the hint.

We get on the short stretch of I-394 where two on-ramps join with the road, one to the right and then one to the left.  Once clear of the concrete barriers, the woman crosses the double white line to get over to the left lane to pass me.  This is when I exhibit a little misogyny.  Rather than flip her the bird, as I’m wont to do with other drivers, I decide to give her the shocker.  For those of you who don’t know this gesture, here is a link to the Urban Dictionary.  I was pissed and I wanted to flash the most offensive signal I could.

On the plus side, she didn’t find any polyps.