Home   Home

The Journal of James Zealy

John
11/19/2009 03:18 p.m.
The uncle on my wife's side for 35 years has always been an enigma. Closed off and reclusive, John Bear Smith usually had no more than a grunt or two to say as you walked in and out of his house. He and his wife Louise always had a volatile relationship. Over the last couple of years the conflict had gotten worse. It came to a head over issues with their only daughter. As events developed other things were going on. Louise was going in early stages of dementia and John had developed in unoperable tumor, that made it impossible for him to eat.

They are now 85 and 84 years old and are legally separated. When the separation occured, John was given 6 hours to get all of us possesions out of the house.

Next he found he had cancer. His daughter came here from Savanah, ga to be with him full time to help see him through the crisis. He has been at a nursing home for the last several weeks.

Oddly enough this closed up grumpy old man began to open up to me. I found things about him that I did not know was there as he did me. Its a shame it took us 35 years to find this common ground, but at least in his last few months of life we have. I am sad for the loss of a 62 year marriage, but he is at least at peace for the first time in years. I am glad he is finding peace and a sense of dignity in his last days on this earth. The war in his wife's family over them continues, but for now he is no longer a part of the acrimony. He deserves the change to die without the conflict that has been a constant activity over the years.
I am currently Amazed
I am listening to mouse clicks

Comments (0)


work email fauxpas
10/01/2009 02:53 p.m.
Here it is at work, and yet another email fauxpas. This time our team lead made an attempt at a poetic response to another employees email gaff. The email chain constructed in volumes with the one previous to mine saying haveing two pulitzer writers on the team was too much (tongue in cheek). My response was the below quick and dirty poem.

Pulitzer Dreams

Pulitzer dreams and mixed metaphors
Status of meetings mixed and abhored

And its tweedle de de
Aren't we the acerbic entity

And tweedle de dum
We ain't no Letterman

But at least we got
Humor whete many have not

Our music plays and croons
To silent tapping of key loons

We whistle our message of glee
At each email from the mistaken tree
I am currently Cheerful
I am listening to keys click

Comments (0)


Peak Health
09/22/2009 08:29 p.m.
We have an organization that polices us in order to maintain our health insurance at reasonable levels. It is called Peak Health. The things they have us do is measure body fat (using cold steel clamps), weigh us and make us ride a stationary bike. Our team lead made the mistake of sending us the following smart comment ( a month in advance no less) :
All,

On the morning of 10/27, I will undergo strenuous testing and analysis of my physical capabilities by the Peak Health staff which will delay my arrival to the office until approximately 9:30 AM.

My response was as follows (I just could not resist writing it):

It's a Peak at a Time

It’s a peak at time
Whence phsyicality is entwined
With cold steel pinches

And bike puff ride
Against imaginary tides
Whispers faux exhaustion consigned

What better task he drew
To get Attention from his crew
Corraling windmills he slew

And we bow in kind
At his sacrificial climb
To Peak health incline

Let us sacrifice our care
A like our leader out here
So we stare peakly aware

At what example to share
For out next peak health care
I am currently Bemused
I am listening to keys click

Comments (0)


Dr Stephen Fore
08/26/2009 02:47 p.m.
This is not some soliquoy based on a person passing, but a statement of truth about a man who happened to be a doctor. He died within the last week at the young age of 66. He was an OBGYN. He was One who delivered life, and gave life to his patients. In fact, when he knew his passing was eminent, he sent a letter to all persons in his practice for their patronage, and encouraged them to find another practioner.

So why was he special? Ours is one of many stories, I am sure. We became aquainted with Dr Fore when our middle child was born in 1979, he was part of a practice, and was Carol's primary contact for her prenatel care. Carol had issues with her pregnancy, The baby was on the sciatic nerver and she had to be in traction the last 3 months of her pregnancy, to alleviate the pressure. Due to the luck of the draw, Dr Fore did not deliver Michael. The man who did was uncaring and incompetent. He made mistakes that caused development issues with him that cause him problems to this day. In fact Carol's blood pressure dropped so far we almost lost her.

We tried again, this time in hopes of having a girl. She got preganant, and we believe she was a girl. We wanted to visit my parents in Goldsboro, and she had already began to spot. The same doctor who delivered Michael, said she was okay to travel. The next day she miscarried. We were devastated.

My wife is persistent, she refused to giveup. Only one Dr in the practice agreed to work with us. The risk was to great for everyone else but a young OB named Stephen Fore. He took the chance, but made it condiitional on us doing some specific things. Carol had to lose 40 pounds, which she did using weight watchers. As soon as she was pregnant, she was to come to the office. She always knew before the tests could show if she was pregnant. He recommended progesterone suppositories which were made from placentas at Cone hospital. We bought them weekly, before she tested positive and miracle of miracles she carried to term, and had a perfect delivery of s screaming wild child that is my 26 year old daughter today. He has continued to care for my wife and daughter, and showed a personal interest in them both. Jamie was a miracle birth. Dr. Fore was a great and caring doctor, who gave of himself to his patients. There is no more to say.

You see, I come from a family of health care professionals. What Dr Fore did for his patients, because he cared, was the same level of care My Uncle, my dad or my grandfather delivered. Its odd that this should be the exception rather than the rule. Today, under the same set of cirumstances, it is doubtful if anyone would agree to manage her care or agree to work with her during a high risk pregnancy.
I am currently Reflective
I am listening to mouse clicks

Comments (1)


Needle in a haystack II
09/11/2008 10:12 a.m.
Then Job arose, and rent his mantle, and shaved his head, and fell down upon the ground, and worshipped,
And said, Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.

Comments (0)


Needle in a haystack
09/10/2008 10:15 p.m.
What the dba gives

INSERT INTO CG.UNQ_CNST_KEY_EXPRTN
SELECT unq_enty_id FROM cg.unq_enty ue, (SELECT CNSTNT_IDV_KEY,unq_id_src_stm FROM CG.UNQ_ENTY
WHERE SRC_STM_ID=6 AND PRM_NM_IND='Y' and DM_EXPRTN_DT='9999-12-31'
GROUP BY CNSTNT_IDV_KEY,unq_id_src_stm HAVING COUNT(*)>1)V1
where ue.CNSTNT_IDV_KEY=v1.CNSTNT_IDV_KEY and ue.unq_id_src_stm=v1.unq_id_src_stm
and ue.SRC_STM_ID=6 AND ue.PRM_NM_IND='Y' and ue.DM_EXPRTN_DT='9999-12-31'
and ue.lst_mntn_dt='2008-08-31';

COMMIT;

He now takes away

delete from cg.unq_enty
where unq_enty_id in
(SELECT unq_enty_id FROM cg.unq_enty ue, (SELECT CNSTNT_IDV_KEY,unq_id_src_stm FROM CG.UNQ_ENTY
WHERE SRC_STM_ID=6 AND PRM_NM_IND='Y' and DM_EXPRTN_DT='9999-12-31'
GROUP BY CNSTNT_IDV_KEY,unq_id_src_stm HAVING COUNT(*)>1)V1
where ue.CNSTNT_IDV_KEY=v1.CNSTNT_IDV_KEY and ue.unq_id_src_stm=v1.unq_id_src_stm
and ue.SRC_STM_ID=6 AND ue.PRM_NM_IND='Y' and ue.DM_EXPRTN_DT='9999-12-31'
and ue.lst_mntn_dt='2008-08-31');
commit;
I am currently Better
I am listening to Keys click on the computer

Comments (0)


Timberlake revisited
10/09/2007 06:29 a.m.
A story began on this day. It had been six weeks since I last visited the Bob Timberlake Gallery. I found a sense of warmth and comfort that day, as I read the comments and visualized each paintings short story compiled from 70 individual events and images. For someone who pretends to be a writer, it was an unforgettable trip into rich rural memories that only those that have lived in a small town can identify with.

It was September 1st, as I came back from the farmers market I stopped at the Riverwood Coffee Shop in the Timberlake Gallery, to get a cup of coffee. The sign was still up for the 70th Birthday exhibition, even though it was due to end on the 31st of August. Much to my delight, it was not taken down just yet. The Gallery decided to leave the exhibit for one more day.

Frank Stoner introduced himself with a smile. He was one of the primary persons responsible for the running of the gallery. He unlocked the door and opened it wide. As I walked in, 70 helloes greeted me, welcoming my return. I was not expecting to have such a surge of emotion. For a moment, all I could do was stand and smile as the pleasant warmth of growing up in the south rushed nonstop from a hundred rich memories of my own. Frank and I talked for a moment, about Riverwood, where much of Bob's work was done, about Highrock Lake, and about Potts Creek, where I live. The natural beauty and wild life there, is like no where else on the Lake. He told me he would go there sometimes just to see some of the birds and other wild life. Frank shook my hand and left me to enjoy Bob's images one last time.

It was then that I found a beginning in what others might say is the end. It is a story and memory unique in its own right. I can tell this story again and feel the same relax in warm bath water glow. Those images and that experience will stay with me always.

I came to the realization that Bob's paintings served the same purpose as paintings in old Indian ruins and burial grounds or Egyptian Hieroglyphics. They recount events and a way of life that soon will not be remembered that way again. His work is a reminder of the grandiose simplicity of rural southern life. I think that is a part of his work's charm, and what attracts so many people to either look at it or acquire it.

As I walked out the door of the coffee shop, I could not help but look back and say a silent thank you for the experience, and think about the 70 images I left behind as they said an amiable good bye. As a collection they will be gone, but as a perfect memory they will always live on.

Comments (0)


Mr Click, Click
08/14/2007 01:39 p.m.
We have a male white pekingnese with blonde highlights and solid black eyes. He is all of a year old and a real gentle spirit. When he walks his nails click, I guess because he doesn't pick up his feet up too high. What is spooky, is the way he acts. It's like one of our previous pets was reincarnated in some way. His predecessor was a 12 year old female laza named Bear. He shares her name, Benjamin Beaufort Bear, Beau for short. Like her he smiles when he's happy and wants to play. Bear used to raid the trash can and tear up paper products of all kinds (yes Those kind too especially those kind). The first time he did this I looked at him and shook my head. Bear would always get me up in the morning by banging on the door with her paw. She was a hungry girl and needed to go to the bathroom. When Beau later did the same thing, I knew this was odder than odd. Strange indeed.
I am currently Bemused
I am listening to printer running

Comments (0)


Sunset on the Yadkin
08/14/2007 01:21 p.m.
Saw something beautiful at sunset on the river (Yadkin). It was near sunset, the sky was clear, water still as glass. The sun was at the perfect angle to create a mirror effect. I saw a tall heron strolling on the shoreline. He goes out of view, the next thing I see is the heron flying low over the water with a perfect doppelganger image of himself on the water as he flew. A few minutes later literally hundreds of birds flew down from the trees into the edge of the water to drink and cool themselves. For a moment the water was covered with birds. Within the next few minutes, you could see them leaving in indvidual sorties to each tree. This all happened within 30 minutes. Amazing isn't it?
I am currently Awestruck
I am listening to zippo

Comments (0)


bouncing ball
04/06/2005 02:03 p.m.
It may not appear as much to many here, but to me basketball played at the college level is much like a living drama, with ebbs and surges, adrenaline rushes and wild excitement, and the ultimate sadness and despair from failing to meet that ultimate goal. All of that was on display Monday night, and if basketball was art and human drama, then the game Monday was all of that and more.

More than anything else the kids were the winners, especially the ones that survived the worst season in UNC history to reach the ultimate pinnacle. The Illinois kids that survived another coaching change to find someone that could inspire and lead them. The UNC kids that survived the worst kind of nightmare when their college coach was forced out, due in large part to their own displeasure.

They proved they were more than spoiled athletes by working as a group with someone that showed he genuinely cared about them as people first and athletes second. That is refreshing, and for once it was a moment in all the hoopla surrounding this overhyped affair, that was a feel good moment. Because these two teams did it the right way.
I am currently Amazed
I am listening to The clicks of my mouse

Comments (0)


Next 10 Entries - Previous 10 Entries

Return to the Library of James Zealy

 

pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online
All works Copyright © 2024 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)