Calling Daddy for Advice

My dad is pretty awesome. I’ve always known I can phone him (or, sometimes text now), and he’ll give me the answer he thinks I need. Many times when I call, the exchange will begin this way:

Me: Daddy, I have a question.

Daddy: Well, I have an answer. Do you want me to go first, and see if they match?

(I’m sorry if anyone is too young to remember Johnny Carson as Carmac the Magnificent. Go look it up on Wikipedia.)

My questions have ranged from “How do I fix this?” to “What’s wrong with my kids?” and lots of things in between. Last night was something a little different, but I knew he definitely had experience with similar situations, so I gave him a call.

I was running out to my car to fetch something, and was startled by a snake right outside the garage door. I’m positive everyone in the neighborhood heard me scream (except for David SAFE INSIDE THE HOUSE.) Being the strong female I am, I carefully walked back inside the house, and told David I needed him to take care of something. While we were pondering how to get rid of the slinky, uninvited guest, the snake decided INSIDE the garage was more to his liking. He coiled up in the back corner, and watched for our next move.

Since neither of us are fans of snakes, we thought it was best to encourage Mr. Slinky Snake to politely leave, as we were not accepting guests at this time. David was able to guide Snake out the garage door, and Snake began slithering down the driveway. Before I could remind David, “Hey, snakes like to crawl up in the engines of cars”, Snake was up in my car’s business.

I thought if I started the engine, the heat/noise/vibration/frantic thoughts might jostle Snake into an exit strategy. It didn’t happen. When we realized we were out of options, we decided to take the non-snake infested car to our planned destination.

This is when I phoned Daddy. I presumed during the 10-minute drive, we could determine the best course of action for evicting Mr. Snake. By this time, I had decided a couple things: 1) Slinky Snake was non-venomous (he had a skinny head without puffy cheeks – thank you Girl Scouts), and 2) Slinky Snake was male, and unable to lay any eggs filled with baby snakes around my house (evidently, Girl Scouts didn’t cover how and where snakes lay eggs, so I had to use my imagination).

After disclosing my nervousness about the possibility of Snake deciding the cabin of my car would be more accommodating than the engine, I was searching for words of comfort. Daddy’s response was a little different than anticipated.

Daddy: Yeah. I’d probably be nervous about driving that car every time for the rest of my life. But, don’t worry, he won’t stay up there forever. He will need to get out for food and water EVENTUALLY.

Me: I suppose you’re right. I didn’t plan to set up a snake buffet in my car engine, so he’s going to be disappointed with the selection of old Ford engine parts.

Daddy: Maybe you could bait him with food then. What do you think he would eat? Did he look like he had eaten recently?

Me: I’m pretty sure snakes eat mice, rabbits and humans. I don’t have any mice, and I wouldn’t be fond of touching one if I did have one.

Daddy: Try this. Get a piece of cheese, and you can catch a rat. Then, use the rat the entice him out. Once he’s out, you can use the snake as bait for a vulture. It’s a whole circle of life thing then.

Me: No one will ever believe this story. Unless I put it on Facebook.

Daddy: Just don’t mention my name.

Me: OK – I promise (but, my legs were crossed, and he didn’t see that).

I’m super lucky to have a dad who is great with life experience AND has an awesome sense of humor.

(I just realized this would be a really cool entry for Father’s Day, but he already got amazingly crafty presents then. Bonus for you, Daddy!!)

 

She’s Looking at Me!

We are in bed Saturday night, watching a rerun of Saturday Night Live. As usual, David began to fall asleep before I did. So, I looked over to see if he was completely gone yet.

David: *Opens eyes* You know I can’t sleep if you’re looking at me.

Me: I was looking to see if you were asleep yet.

David: Well, stop that.

Me: How am I supposed to know if you’re asleep?

David: You’ll just know.

Me: Ugh.

David: I can’t hear the TV.

Me: I turned it down because I thought you were sleeping.

David: Just let me sleep.

This wouldn’t be so bad, but it really happens nearly Every. Single. Night.

Upside – I get to wake up with this man.

Another View of the UT Event 8/1/1966

Over the past few weeks leading up to the 50 year mark of the shootings at UT in Austin, I’ve head various accounts of the events that occurred that day. The recurring theme in all of the recounts is “What made him do this? What was he thinking?”

What do we know about Charles Whitman? He was a Marine and a husband. He had moved his mother from Florida after she and his father divorced to help take care of her. He was a student who interacted with others. He spoke about his guns, but this was very common in a world where students spent lunch hours hunting with the weapons that hung daily in their unlocked trucks.

What isn’t really told about Charles Whitman? He left a note requesting an autopsy upon his death. Who would ask for an autopsy? My guess is someone who knew something wasn’t right with their body. He was experiencing severe headaches prior to his actions August 1st, and recognized that his actions were not “normal” for him.

The autopsy revealed a brain tumor, an astrocytoma. According to the American Brain Tumor Association, “Headaches, seizures, memory loss, and changes in behavior are the most common early symptoms of astrocytoma. Other symptoms may occur depending on the size and location of the tumor.” Although there is discussion whether the tumor actually caused the erratic behavior, we should also realize those determinations were made 50 years ago with much more limited research results than are available now.

While it is tragic the loss of life that occurred, how does the family of Charles Whitman recover from an event of this magnitude? How do they grieve? What happens when a family member is sad about the end of his life? While they are certainly appalled over the horrific event and its aftermath, how are they to trudge through the stages of grief and recovery?

The Whitman family also suffered a loss.  They lost a brother, uncle, son. During the preceding hours, they also lost a mother, daughter, sister, aunt, because his mother and wife were also victims. In all the documentaries I’ve heard, no one seems to consider his family. My heart is saddened for the survivors of this family. They lost 3 family members in one day, without being able to speak openly and easily as other families can.

What did we learn from this tragedy? Dealing with tragic events changed after this day. No longer was trauma swept under a rug and never discussed. UT set up the first counselling center to give students opportunity to express their feelings of grief, fear and uncertainty.

What are we still missing? Dealing with brain cancer hasn’t changed in decades. Many with changes in behavior are presumed to have other causes. Despite high profile people losing their lives to brain cancer, there is still significant delay in effective treatments and funding for research for new treatments. Slim Pickens, Ethel Merman, Lee Atwater, Beau Biden, Ted Kennedy and many others whose names are recognized had their lives ended by this horrible illness. How many gray ribbons do you see from day to day to make the world aware of this ongoing killer?

Instead of focusing on gun control and opinions on Open Carry on Campus, let’s work on a real cause of what happened 50 years ago today. Let’s increase awareness for the need for research for the treatment of brain tumors.