4/14/18 Saturday
No rest for the wicked. Left SF in the morning and headed out to a spot where my friends the Rainbow Girls were hosting an amazing day of music and food for 200 of their closest friends on their property (affectionately known by its residents as Windy Bitches) outside Bodega. Now in its second year, the annual Bodega Day fest is a truly homegrown DIY music festival, conceived of and organized by a creative crew of (mostly) women who've created a pretty spectacular event for musicians and attendees alike. They want to make people feel good, to thoroughly enjoy themselves, to support other musicians, and create the kind of environment they most enjoy being in. They nailed it. The weather was amazingly warm and gorgeous all day, and the lineup of bands was pretty staggering. Such talent and diversity.
I’ve always had a bit of trouble attending parties these last few years, primarily because I don’t drink or take drugs but also partly because (I think) I’ve gone to so many parties in my life, so many shows and events n stuff, there isn’t much there for me anymore. Of course I love seeing friends and people I care about, but given the choice, I’d rather sit down and talk with them one on one (or in small groups) or share an uncrowded space and enjoy each other’s company. Since that’s pretty difficult to pull off these days, I decided to go. I wanted to challenge myself to be social for a full day, and I also realized I’m kinda searching for the places I “belong’ in this world. Where do I fit in? Where and with whom do I want to spend my time? Where and when do I need to push myself to interact? I did end up spending a fair amount of time cruising around the event by myself taking photos, and felt a bit on the outside since so many people there knew each other and I only knew a handful. I also did manage to connect with a bunch of people I know and love too, including the Marty O’Reilly band folks who were concluding their two month-long tour with a performance tonight alongside Royal Jelly Jive.
I have to confess that one of my favorite moments was around 9:30 PM after my energy level had been dipping from having been on my feet all day, I realized that my HOUSE was parked just a handful of yards away from the event space and I could go snuggle up in bed with my book and regroup. In the past, this would have been a time where I hummed and hawed about leaving the party or felt resentful that I’m an old man and can’t stand to be at parties for long periods of time anymore. But instead, I crawled into bed and read until my body felt sufficiently rested, then cooked myself some food and headed back out to enjoy headlining act. This part of van living really works for me. I also loved the fact that when the outdoor music concluded and people moved indoors for more intimate performances, I could just walk a few steps and go to bed right there and then.
Woke early the next morning, and after making breakfast and coffee I took a walk around the grounds and watched the sun come up over the eastern hills. There were little pockets of people who’d clearly not gone to bed yet, giggling and snuggling in dew-covered jackets and sleeping bags. There were also a few early risers like me who were stoked to find a mobile coffee truck parked behind the main house serving wonderful hot beverages and fresh pastries. I stuck around until mid-morning, then decided to drive out to the ocean and collect my thoughts before heading into Sebastopol for a photo session. Salmon Creek, the beach just north of Bodega Bay, is a place that holds a lot of memories for me. Good ones. Distant ones. Memories of romances and old friendships, surfing the cold and sharky waters, watching my children play in the sand. Time passes.
4/18/18
Here’s where things took a turn for the unexpected. After a couple of days back in Ukiah, I headed down to San Francisco to meet up with my son Mickey and his mom and stepdad for Mickey’s long-awaited and eagerly anticipated surgery to remove his breasts. Mickey is transgender, his formal transition beginning in earnest almost a year ago when he began taking testosterone. Removing his breasts has been something he’s adamantly desired for many years, and it’s taken months and months of wrangling with insurance companies and surgeons to nail down an actual surgery date. That day finally came, and we all met at the UCSF Parnassus hospital in a state of slight disbelief that the day had finally come. Mickey was ecstatic, his mom and I a bit nervous but also very happy that this dream of his would finally be realized. After spending the morning in prep and pre-op, he was finally wheeled in to the operating room a bit after noon and we all went our separate ways to wait. I retired to my van to make some lunch, read, take a nap, and catch up on some more work. Having your house with you everywhere you go can be pretty rad.
He came out of surgery in the late afternoon looking good. Drugged up, but good. He was feeling positive and eager to get out of the recovery room and leave the hospital. Unfortunately, complications from the anesthesia arose, requiring he stay in the hospital for observation. Over the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, he continued to feel worse and was diagnosed with a hematoma in his left side, so he was formally admitted and we hunkered down for the night. I had to drive around the neighborhood for a half hour to find a place park that was flat and somewhat quiet, but I lucked out and found a spot only a few blocks from the hospital. In the morning, the surgeon determined there needed to be a second surgery to remove the hematoma, and they figured they could fit him in sometime in the early afternoon. For the time being, though, we just had to wait. Waiting sucks. Seeing your kid suffering sucks. Long story short, the second surgery was successful, though they wanted him to stay a second night at the hospital for observation. We all hung out with him until pretty late and again I was back to finding a place to park in the surrounding neighborhood to bed down for the night.
rehabbing
Mickey’s improvement was sufficient enough that he was given permission to leave the hospital Friday around noon. We brought him down to my parents’ house in the South Bay to convalesce as we’d previously arranged. For the next couple of days, his mom stayed and tended to him, which gave me an opportunity to commence working on the van with my dad. Over the next couple of days, we built doors and put in some shelves in the galley and built and finished a redwood top for the counter. I then spent a long-ass time figuring out the plumbing for my sink and grey water system. I finally got it figured out and put together all by myself, and the feeling of triumph and satisfaction was awesome.
Not quite finished but almost there
There were many things about these last few days that were challenging for me, aside from the obvious worry and concern for my child’s well-being. Being landed at my parents’ house for days and days has its advantages and perks, but I missed being mobile and autonomous pretty quickly. Mickey’s mom tends to default to deep anxiety during challenging times like these, and the dynamic that exists between us is something I try to avoid. However, there is a lot to be thankful for, and Mickey continues to improve and heal, which is the important part.