Politics

The lyrics from an excellent political rap song have been hitting very close to home lately. The rappers....er....poets that perform here have a greater understanding of our country and world than anyone in the upcoming election.

MP3 Download--->http://www.box.net/shared/phb5wirk00

A Political Rap

D. Spencer and B. Helton

What if, one day, you woke up and the earth was gone?

Think about it, children.

Stop filling the air with hazardous fumes

Before we wake up one day in our tombs

If we can land spaceships on planet mars

Then why can't we make more fuel-efficient cars

Global warming, "Hey man, whats that?"

Burnin' fossil fuels melting all the ice caps

The government's like a vampire sucking our necks

Taking all the money from our hard-earned checks

Kids wouldn't be so doped up on drugs

If their parents stayed together and gave them more hugs

Higher rates of obesity with processed meat

Birds choking on plastic saying, "Trick or tweet?"

Surely this is the worst of it.

Okay I know I just wrote something, but not 2 minutes after I published the last blog things took a turn for the gross. A nurse knocked on my door with two vial-looking things in her hand. I said, "You don't want more blood do you?"

She was nice and smiled and said, "No, I'm just here with Infection control."

Ahhh, thank goodness, no more blood.

"I just need to get some samples from you to make sure you're not carrying any infections."

Easy enough.

"I'll need a sample from in your nose and one from your rectum. Would you please turn on your side?"

The windows are locked and she's between me and the door. I turned on my side.

Yes, I'd be happy to let you draw another sample at 3am.

Let me start this blog by saying it's about dagdanged time Paul started contributing around here. I fully support his open letters, especially to Wilco, who used to be good before Jeff Tweedy gained enough confidence to consider himself a poetartist instead of a singer in a band. I also think his letter to VW should be CC'ed to BMW, who is also constantly concerned with seatbelt usage.

Just in case you haven't heard, my defibrillator shocked me 5 times in 2 minutes Saturday morning and it hurt worse than I ever imagined. It's kind of like being round-house kicked in the chest by Chuck Norris (with his stronger right leg) while being electrocuted. I don't recommend it.

Anyway, I'm back in the hospital and here are 10 of my complaints:

1. If blood loss is legitimately fatal, how can nurses get away with taking mine one vial at a time every hour? I like my blood and don't want them taking it but they don't seem to care.

2. Do they really need to measure my urine? I just went ahead and went in the toilet the first day and when the nurse came in looking for my pee I told her I'd estimate what I flushed at around 8oz. She looked very concerned and told me to please use the urinal that is provided. She shook her head and said, "I'll just have to write down you went an unmeasured amount."

3. Another pee complaint. A nurse comes in at 4am, turns on my light and asks, "Do you know if you've yooorinated since 11 last night?" My pee jug was empty and my bed felt dry so I didn't think so. "Well we're going to need you to go before the shift change." I got up and went.

4. The next morning the same thing: 4am, light comes on, empty pee jug.

Nurse: Do you know if you've yooooorinated since 11 last night?
Danny: I don't know.
Nurse: Well we're going to need some yoooorine before the shift change.
Danny: What time is the shift change?
Nurse: 7-8:30.
Danny: So I have 3 hours.
Nurse: They don't like to start the shift change without yooorine.
Danny: I'll have some pee for you by 7.

I thought that would get rid of her but she came back to check for pee every fifteen minutes until I finally drug myself out of bed and went sometime around 5:30am.

5. I have no more untapped veins in my arms or hands available for IV's.

6, I watched The View for almost 20 minutes this morning.

7. I don't want to mention the food because that part of hospital life is well-documented. It's important to note, however, that I've been snacking on paper towels.

8. Shawn Harrison, who we all know as Waldo Geraldo Faldo, is a comedic genius and should star in movies as a bumbling sidekick to a hardcore cop with a drinking problem.

9. Why does every single person who comes in here have to listen to my heart and lungs? I think they must hear something hilarious in there and they're all out in the hall laughing about it.

10. I don't like bathing at a sink. Actually I don't like bathing at all but I especially don't like bathing at a sink.

In closing, be good, eat your vegetables, wear your seatbelt, don't drink and drive, don't engage in risky behavior, exercise regularly, take your meds, and please, if your grandma is in the hospital go visit the poor woman.

Upcoming Contributions to these Interwebs

I am in the process of writing numerous letters of concern to various companies, organizations, groups, etc. What follows is a short, incomplete list of these letters in no particular order:

• Cheez-it - I bought a box a couple weeks ago and they tasted stale...but not really stale. I guess they kind of tasted like a cheap knock-off...almost like a Cheese Nip, but not really. The cheese was not right, nor was the amount of salt. Something had gone awry. They need to know.


• Volkswagen - While riding shotgun in a friend's car, it repeatedly beeped until I buckled up. "Mind y'own beez wax!" will be included in this letter.


• Wilco - What happened to these guys? At this rate, they will be selling their albums exclusively at Wal-Mart in five years. Jeff, start smoking again. Nels, step in front of a car. Jay, count your blessings and thank Jeff for ridding you of this nightmare.


• Full Tilt Poker - I am on to your games. You pick me up, then you throw me down. Hand after hand, streak after streak, you push and pull me as you please. Not anymore, old friend. The year 2007 will ne'er see PawlSmyth at your tables again. Look for me in the new year, and be on your best behavior. You know that I am not afraid to use that "self-exclusion" option. Do not force my hand.

DogDoggit

The ARVD is Whipping Me

Here's an update:

The doctors confirmed that I do have ARVD and put me on medicine called Sotalol. It's supposed to regulate my heartbeat and keep it from going into ventricular tachycardia (rapid heartbeat). They also put the pacemaker/defibrillator in my chest, which is shown in the picture. The pacemaker's purpose is to give my heart 8 solid beats in case it ever goes out of control again. If that doesn't get it going in a good rhythm the defibrillator will shock me to reset my heart. Thankfully it's a pretty small cut and the soreness is almost gone. I have a few more days before I'm allowed to lift my arm above my head and then I'll be almost back to normal.

I joined an ARVD support group on Yahoo! and have gotten some good information there. Most people have either never been shocked or have been shocked 20+ times. I'm hoping I'll be in the first group.

I had a lot of great people bring me things and keep me company while I was in the hospital and I'm very thankful for that. It even gave me a chance to get to see some old friends I hadn't seen in awhile.

The other good news is that since I've been out of the hospital I haven't peed on myself.

So my plans from here are to take up non-competitive medium-speed walking, golf, and find more people to play ping-pong with me. I was going to the YMCA for basketball 3 times a week before all this happened and considered going back to be the referee but I realized that would make everyone hate me.

A few people have asked me about it, so I've decided when I have more time I'll write about how pooping saved my life. I know this will be a favorite subject for years to come for at least a few people (I'm looking at you, Tommy Hall).

The Real Story (Without Tommy's Bias)

I gave up on blogging awhile ago when I realized it was too much like writing. I figured I'd resume it temporarily though since I have this blog space sitting here and needed some outlet to let everyone know what's going on with me so you don't hear any crazy rumors. And also to defend myself from Tommy's blogs about this subject.

Actually I really can't defend myself too much. I'm in the ICU at St. Joseph's Hospital, haven't showered in four days, had to poop in a bucket, had an outbreak of what we're calling 'saline farts', and peed on my arm. It's actually what my life is like a lot of times, just that all those things happened in three days instead of seven.

To make a long story short, I've been having dizzy spells, racing heart, and passing out sometimes. Saturday night I was driving back from the Broecker house with Ashley and Paul and when I got out in Florence to pump some gas I collapsed. I was only out for 10-20 seconds but the last advice I got from a doctor was to get immediate help the next time it happened.

They drove me to the ER and when they hooked me up to all the stuff a lot of people started rushing in. One doctor kept rubbing really hard on my neck and said, "Bear down like you're trying to take a serious bowel movement. Come on, you need to make your face turn really red!" That was kind of funny since I needed to go at the time anyway and even though I didn't know I was in danger, she didn't know she was in danger of getting pooped on.

So basically what they've told me now is that twice that night my heart rate was near 300 (it's usually around 60), which is life-threatening if they can't get it stopped. The scary part to me is that Monday - Friday night I could feel my heart doing the same thing except worse.

Saturday night the doctor came in and said he's pretty sure I have a rare thing called ARVD. The cardiologist here has been at it for a long time and says he's never seen a case of it. It's a long name and if you're curious about it you can look at www.arvd.com or go to webMD and search for it. They have a pretty interesting video about it there. It has something to do with my right ventricle being enlarged which causes the electrical part of my heart to start messing up and freaking out sometimes.

Tomorrow they're going in through my leg to do electrical mapping of my heart and based on what they find they'll do a little burning here and there to fix me up. They're also going to put an ICD (defibrillator) under my skin above my heart to shock when it starts going out of control. So the good news with that is I'm now invincible.

The bad news is I can't ever play competitive sports again and will be limited in some other ways. He says I should probably take up golf. He also says I can continue to dominate in ping-pong.

There you go, the real story. I may update this in the next couple of days to let you know how everything goes or if anything changes. Or if I pee on myself again.

Geriatric Dancing

This week hasn't been good for my self-esteem.

Three nights ago I took 3 teenage girls to a free pop punk show at a high school. I sat in a chair in the back the whole time and monitored every boy who yelled in the ears of the girls I was with. It made me realize that somewhere between graduating college and having kids I became a somewhat responsible adult.

I kept telling myself I could probably push my way to the front and start pumping my fist and throwing water bottles and fit right in, but I know the truth - my mere adult presence would cause some kids to start behaving themselves and cause others to throw water my way.

It was a church sponsored concert so there were a few other people sitting in chairs with me in the back. As much as I tried to avoid their eye contact, I kept finding myself exchanging knowing glances with them. We gave each other facial expressions that mean things like, "Loud enough for ya!?" and "Heh, heh...kids these days!"

Two days after that, Jack started pre-school. I was happy and excited for him - especially since he has a brand new Cars backpack - but I know if he's getting old, I'm getting old.

So then today, just as I'm starting to feel a little bit younger and cooler after a phone call from a friend about another friend who attempted to moon the first friend and ended up bunny-hopping 3 times and face-planting on the rain-soaked sidewalk, I go to the doctor and come back looking like this:

The whole time they were hooking it up all I could think about was Dr. Heathcliff Huxtable running on a treadmill in his doctor's office and coming home banned from eating desserts. Now I get to walk around for the next 24 hours while people wonder why I have a computer in a bag attached to my belt and wires coming out of my shirt. And I'm still not sure if I should feel better or worse about the nurse saying, "Oh good, we won't have to shave your chest!" when I took off my shirt.

dognabbers

and i told you no one would read it.

dagdangit, paul, i told you we'd never write on our blog.

gum

i have no respect for anyone that buys gum--chewing or bubble.

I hate it when old people are right.

In another victory for aging curmudgeons, Aquafina had to admit their bottled water was nothing but filtered tap water.

The fact that I've paid $1 or more for a bottle of filtered Mississippi water doesn't bother me as much as the fact that these cynical old people - so fond of phrases like "Bottled water!? Why would I pay for water when I can get it for free in the sink?" and "Pretty soon they'll be charging you to breathe!" - now have the satisfaction of knowing they were pretty much right.

I like it when old people feel good about themselves just as much as the next guy, but this bottled water thing is making a lot of people feel a little too smart. The middle-aged hippie lady at work who I privately ridiculed for refilling her water bottle in the sink now acts like she's some kind of sage.

Add to this problem all the know-it-all CamelBak wearers who now sip from their little straws all day like they're the most resourceful people on earth. I understand these things if you're on a bike ride or hiking through the desert, but when you're sitting in the library sipping from a bag of water attached to your back you just look a little ridiculous.

Go ahead and defend yourself with scientific studies about brain activity and colonic-health being related to proper hydration Mr. H2O backpack. And if you need any help refilling, Grandpa and I will be drinking from the hose.

What to Expect (When You're Expecting)

What to expect from this blog:

1. To read extremely deep thoughts from brothers who refuse to blog before 1 a.m.

2. To misunderstand our deepness

3. To realize we're the deepest thinkers you know (and ever will know)*

4. To doubt your own deepness after reading new blogs**

5. To get new subjects for your next deep conversation

6. To envy our deepness

7. To wonder why we don't get six-figure salaries for our deepness

8. To realize how hard it is for us to write on your not-quite-as-deep-as-our-level-of-deepness level

9. To be deeped***

10. Pictures of our increasingly rock-like abs.

Thanks for reading our very first blog! We look forward to the magic that will happen between us.

*Assuming Danny's children don't learn from his deepness and eventually become deeper.

**Unless you're delusional and don't realize the deepness has gone over your head.

***We'd like to thank Rhiannon Leifheit for inspiring us to blog. She's a fashionista. (http://www.liebemarlene.blogspot.com)