Weird time it is at Chez Thelen/Tampa, Saturday, Nov. 4.
Packers have reduced our life to a series of 2-to-4-foot-tall, boxes– rows of centurions at alert. Movers come Sunday, led by 18-wheeling chap named Kash. KASH!!! (He gotta be packing heat inside his leather.)
Wheels up to Macon Monday, probably, maybe. All depends on the loading speed of KASH and his team.
New Carlyle Place home, 2700 sq. ft., awaits–half the size of Tampa home. Struby has blown up the kitchen, rejiggered the rest of house to fit her very clear vision. Getting great new blue, king bed, “Quincy” (by Ethan Allen, of course.) Quincy as in John Q. Adams. I spotted it. Love it.
My other treats are an under-construction Cigar porch (man cave) and a boffo audio system. (That’s you AV master, Jeff Smith.) Wolfgang and Grateful Dead will never have sounded better.
I make my first public appearance in Macon area Nov. 14. Forsyth Kiwanis club mini-speech on PD. Will dial down my “relentlessness” (re PD patient advocacy). Macon VERY conservative and quite polite.
Picking up new set of brain “mufflers” Monday from Midas shop. Mufflers to be grafted between my wicked cortex and too-often ribald tongue.
Mufflers are a survival necessity in a community whose headliner these days is Eric Ericson, Alt Right guru. (His home was picketed by two Trumpites because he would not endorse Donald’s candidacy. Yes, that sound you heard was my throat clearing.)
My PD is behaving well. First order of business next week, at Carlyle’s superb exercise facility, is finding a personal trainer. Must fill void left by end of 3-a -week Rock Steady Boxing and 2-a-week spinning in Tampa. (Only RSB program in ALL of Georgia is a bazillion miles north in Atlanta.) Exercise is my killer App against the Parkinson’s Beast.
To understate things, a tad, my Davis Phinney Foundation, patient-advocacy work in Georgia looms large.