I really had little to say.  In light of it, anything I said afterward was trivial, at best.  I asked my grandfather if he was alright in light of the news, and he said he was.  I told him that I would be down for Thanksgiving, and we could discuss this further.  He told me “You don’t need to get me anything.”  A normally joyous holiday gathering is going to be overshadowed by this dark cloud.

I can only imagine how my grandfather feels.  I know how I feel.  It is difficult to imagine that the other person who has been largely responsible for my place will be gone soon.  It is even worse as I realize my grandfather is in a morbid countdown, waiting for time to expire.

For now, though, I am going to try and make the most of the time we have left.

Wednesday was the fifth anniversary of the passing of my grandmother.  While I have extolled how much I owe my grandmother and grandfather for where I am today on these very pages, sometimes I wonder how things would be if she was still here.  I also miss her from time to time, as, I surprisingly found it easier to discuss things with her than with my own mother.

My grandmother, grandfather, and I in 1985 during my Little League Baseball years.

That said, I sometimes also wonder if she would be proud of me given where I am at this point in my life.  I am my own harshest critic, and I occasionally question where I am in my life.  It is my own Stockdale moment.  I still miss her, and her absence is more profound now.

The other passage, though, came on Friday.  My nephew celebrated his 16th birthday.  I took him out today to celebrate with lunch.  At the same time, though, I was reminded of how far he has come and how much futher he has to go.  I had to have a serious discussion with him about–passing some wisdom to him from me.  Probably the most awkward conversation I had with him concerned his “romantic going-ons,” for lack of a better term.  Needless to say, there was a conversation I never expected to have at this point in my life with someone who was not my own child.  It was good to spend time with him today.  I hope that in some way I am able to be as important to him as my grandparents were (and still are) to me.

What is bad holiday attire?  Any article of clothing that happens to be festooned with some ostentatious holiday ornament.  Have that incredibly large Christmas sweater from your Aunt Edith?  Wear it!  Have some very bad sweatshirt with a reindeer whose nose lights up?  Wear it!  Have some incredibly plaid Christmas jacket?  Wear it!  Have reindeer antlers or a Santa hat?  Wear those, too!  In other words, if it is something you would prefer not to be caught dead wearing, this is the bar crawl to wear it on.

The actual route of the bar crawl is still being determined, but it will be in the Federal Hill and South Baltimore neighborhood.  What better way to get together with friends before the holidays then to put on your worst piece of seasonal clothing and grab some beers!

Sound off if you are in for what should be a festive occasion.

Shortly after my arrival at the office this morning, I heard the distinctive sound of nail clippers from one of the cubicle “islands” nearby.  I could not make out who it was for certain, but needless to say, the sound caused me to twitter the following:

OK. Whomever decided to clip their nails in cubeland deserves to be taken out into the street, publicly humiliated, then shot.

I then had a couple of other meetings later in the morning, but I again heard the distinctive sound of nail clippers again when I returned to my desk.  This time, I was able to spot the self-styled manicurist a row over from my desk.  Again, I incredulously twittered.

I mean, really, in such close quarters in cubeland, why would anyone have the bright idea to just start giving themselves a manicure right at their desk?  There is no privacy for what is a personal grooming task.  Moreover, there is no controlling the trajectory of the nail clippings.  In other words, the nail clippings are being scatter-shot around their desk.

• Wipe down the kitchen counters and stove.
• Clean and polish the stainless steel kitchen sink.
• Sweep my portion of the front walk and the back yard pad.
• Clean both the inside and outside of my windows. (Thankfully, I have tilt in sashes and only five windows).
• Clean and tidy the home office.
• Clean various wall marks with the Magic Eraser.  (Yeah, it is kind of cool.)

I was pulled away today from finishing my tasks by the lure of brunch and football, but there are a few things I still need to get done this week.

• Make like Arthur Andersen and shred some old documents.
• Dispose of old magazines.
• Drop old clothes off to Goodwill.
• Drop a sweater off at the dry cleaners.

While completely unexciting, it feels pretty good to be able to feel a sense of accomplishment.  I can say that my weekend was not a lost one that was not full of procrastination.

I do take issue with calling Barack Obama’s victory a mandate.  There is no mandate being delivered by his victory.  If anything, I think this victory is the culmination of a long festering desire to return politics to the center.  While the President is somewhat powerless in what is legislated by the Congress, he is still the embodiment of political leadership.

Personally, I have always viewed the American body politic as a centrist-entity with conservative tendencies.  The last eight years have seen the fruits of the tree that was planted at the beginning of the Reagan Revolution of the late 1970s.  Unfortunately, the Revolution for which standard-bearers such as William F. Buckley Jr. loudly trumpeted lost its way under the current Administration and Congress.  The foreign policy of the Bush Administration is truly a mess, and it pains me to even think about it.

Still, I do not think that Obama’s victory means that, to borrow the lyrics from Irving Berlin’s “Blue Skies,” “Blue skies/Smiling at me/Nothing but blue skies/Do I see.”  There are lessons in recent history that display what happens when members of the same party control both the Executive and Legislative branches of government.  One only needs to look at the disappointing results of the first part of the first term of Bill Clinton for that lesson.

I sincerely hope that the words Obama uttered in his victory speech do not ring hollow:

Let us resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long. Let us remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House — a party founded on the values of self-reliance, individual liberty and national unity. Those are values we all share, and while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress.

As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, “We are not enemies, but friends… Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.” And, to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn, I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your president, too.

Even in defeat, John McCain’s words also reached a similar note:

I urge all Americans who supported me to join me in not just congratulating him, but offering our next president our goodwill and earnest effort to find ways to come together, to find the necessary compromises, to bridge our differences and help restore our prosperity, defend our security in a dangerous world, and leave our children and grandchildren a stronger, better country than we inherited.

Whatever our differences, we are fellow Americans. And please believe me when I say no association has ever meant more to me than that.

Maybe, for the first time in a very long time, our leaders can finally see beyond the differences of party–of red-state and blue state–and do what is necessary to address the important issues facing our country.

As the night ended, one of my friends–Ivars–reminded me of something I sometimes forget: I have some damn good friends.  My friends came out and joined me on Monday night to celebrate my advancing years.

The Roman orator Cicero said it best:

Friendship is nothing else than an accord in all things, human and divine, conjoined with mutual goodwill and affection, and I am inclined to think that, with the exception of wisdom, no better thing has been given to man by the immortal gods.

Today, he was to meet with his regular doctor, and then tomorrow he was to meet with his chemotherapist and radiologist for a discussion of what is next.  At this point, the talk of hospice care has quieted down a bit.

Nonetheless, I have to think this a last stand of sorts by my grandfather.  He said something to me last night about not caring for hospitals and really not wanting to spend any more time in one.

I shall know more tomorrow, hopefully.  Although the written word does not betray me that much, I really am a bit fearful of the worst.

My uncle had him taken to the hospital today as he was complaining about pain, and when he called he mentioned that the diagnosis does not look good.  My grandfather has liver cancer that is inoperable.  When I talked to him later this evening, the growth is the size of a grapefruit.  Some early recommendations that my uncle mentioned the hospital had made was for hospice care and medication.

I will know more specifically about the diagnosis tomorrow, but I am worried a bit.  When I hear the term inoperable and hospice bandied about, the worst comes to mind.  When I spoke to my grandfather, he sounded slightly better, but I could tell he did not sound like his usual self.

I will know more about this tomorrow, but I fear hearing some very bad news.