Happy 43rd Chuckles

Happy 43rd birthday to my brother Charles. The seventh of eight kids, he now has 11 of his own. A great father and husband and someone who lives his faith daily... have a great day, Chuckles!

Working Weekends

It's been a long time since I've had a weekend off. Most of it is my own doing. I've been converting my office into a home theater and we're nearing the end of the process, but every weekend for the past three months has been full of work to do. This weekend we're putting polyurethane on the wood and finishing up all of the finer projects in anticipation of getting carpet installed.

Plus, I have to work this and next Sunday. That's the bad thing about working in an I.T. department, they only want to do major projects when everyone else is off work (weekends, holiday). Unfortunately, I never get those lost days back.

Anyway, back to the grind.

Create-O-Word

I just got off the phone with my brother Charles and we came up with a new word.

Blogomy - people who have more than one Blog.

Coming soon to a dictionary near you :)

Predictor Pete - Week Five

The Bucs had another ugly win last week against the Lions. All of the Lions point came off of turnovers and their last game-winning points were stripped off the scoreboard by a reversed call at the end of the game. The Lions are not that good of a team and we will not win games if we continue to play like we have against the Packers and Lions.

Fortunately, this week the Bucs face the Jets, who have lost their starting and backup quarterbacks to injury. They tried their 3rd string QB last week, to unimpressive results, so they've brought former Buc Vinny Testaverde out of retirement to lead the Jets this week. Vinny, who is the same age as Coach Gruden, was watching games from home two weeks ago, will take on his old Buccos this week.

The injury bug is starting to mount against the Bucs. Cadillac is injured, Clayton is injured, Anthony Davis is injured, Jermaine Phillips is injured...

The Jets are in a funk and, though they have a solid defense and a quality running game, the Bucs should win this game if they keep the turnovers to a minimum and convert third downs.

My Heart: Bucs 21-3.
My Mind: Bucs 24-10.
My Colon: Jets 10-9.

My Pick: Bucs 20-6...

Again, on paper, the Bucs should win. The Jets QB situation is in serious trouble which should make their offense one dimensional. So far this season the Bucs have face pretty bad teams and I think the Jets fall into that category at this point of the football year.

In the end, if we play down to the opposition, like we did to the Lions, we could lose. If we play up to our abilities, we should win.

My Record: 4 - 0.

Lunch... How About 2025?

The older I get the more strange it appears to me that so much of my expectations of life were created through ignorance in my youth. I set these unrealistic expected levels of accomplishment at a time when I had neither the experience nor understanding to make such goals... but I live the rest of my life bemoaning the fact as to whether I've lived up to them or not.

Since we change so much in our childhood, every year is monumental. There's a huge difference between eight and 10. When I'm 13 I can see PG-13 movies. When I'm 15 I can get a drivers permit. When I'm 16 I can drive by myself. When I'm 17 I can see R rated movies. When I'm 18 I can vote. When I'm 19 I'm in college. When I'm 21 I can drink and I graduate college. When I'm 22 I'll have a real job. When I'm 25 I'll get married. When I'm 30 I'll have kids... each of these steps, each of these years offer HUGE changes in our lives.

But then, the accomplishments just kinda stop. Once you have kids, it all changes. Life becomes pretty stagnate for you on a personal level. You go to the same basic job everyday, see the same people... you don't really go anywhere or do anything for yourself... only for the kids... baseball games, soccer practice, piano lessons, recitals, etc. Maybe a vacation thrown in there here and then.

It's so odd because I've found my wife and I just blocking off 10 years of our lives without a second thought. Before, every year meant something grand and different. The possibilities were endless. Now, it's like "when the kids graduate high school we can..."

When the kids graduate high school? That'll be almost 10 years from now. We've just wiped a decade out of our lives... put everything basically on hold for 10 years! And that's assuming all goes well, that our kids move out and attend college, don't move back home, get jobs, get married and have their own kids. If any one of those steps goes awry, you can add another five to 10 years to our estimate.

So, 20 years from now, Dea and I have MAJOR plans for ourselves. Until then, we'll pretty much do the same thing everyday.

Wow, that sounds depressing...

The Formative Years

Yesterday I received an email from an old college buddy, Chris. He and I became friends in the theater department at the University of Florida. He played my father in the departments theater production of The Tempest and we both had a passion for films. When I left acting to work in TV, Chris was the one who got me my gig at Nickelodeon, which was some of the most satisfying jobs I've ever held.

Over the years, Chris and I have led parallel corporate lives, him in television, me in manufacturing. We've both been very competent employees and able to utilize our theater training to assist us in the "real" world... and this has led to consistent promotions and greater responsibility. Our passions are still with filmmaking, but as we've gotten older, our lives have gotten more complex and our time more precious. Because of this, we will find that months have passed without communicating, but we have the type of friendship that when we talk to each other, it is if no time has passed.

Chris is part of that group of friends that are part of my formative years.... there is a time in all of our lives where we define ourselves as people, where we leave our ignorant plans and parental hopes behind and become who we will be for the rest of our lives. For me, that was my theater experience in the University of Florida. There was a small group of us who came into our own in that department, grew together, succeeded together, became adults together, graduated together.

For some, their formative years are in high school, for some its in a frat or sorority, for some it was their highschool or college sports team and for others its in their first real job. It always surprises me how those connections made during our formative years are retained for so long, almost indestructable. Seventeen years have passed since all of the 1988 UF theater grads were all together and, yet, I would like nothing more to attend a reunion of sorts with those old college buds.

Whenever I get a chance to take a detour down memory lane of my formative years... well, I welcome the journey.

My Take On Judgement Day

I have a personal theory on our hour of judgement... when we face God to determine our eternal fate.

I believe we get one hour in front of God and we are treated as we have treated Him during church.

So, you're standing in the front of the church and you're on the clock. You start stating your case. God, however, waking up late and struggling to convince Himself he needs to attend your judgement, gets there late. Plus, parking was a pain, so He had to walk a long way and He walked slowly because He didn't really want to get up this early anyway.

Even though you've been doing your best to convince Him of your worthiness of eternal spendor in Heaven, God finally sneaks into the back of the church, upset that the person on the end of the pew won't scoot in, forcing Him to squeeze passed everyone and sit in the middle.

He fidgets and sighs as He finally settles in, flipping through your book of accomplishments, scanning, but really thinking about the ball game that He's missing so He can sit here and listen to your story. You're now up to your teen years, where things start to go south, morally speaking. God perks up. This is starting to get interesting. He quickly bores, however, and tries to hide a long yawn behind His hands.

As you prattle on about your return to the church and your acts of Christianity, God's thoughts start to wander again, thinking about creation and what He could have done better on the sixth day. Platypuses... what was I thinking? He glances at His watch... is this person STILL talking? Another sigh escapes His mouth. This hour seems like eternity!

You're finally at the point of your life where you have become the best you can be, the apex of your Christian existence. God, however, decides to leave early. Afterall, he had to park on the otherside of the parking lot and you know how bad the parking lot is after church, everyone fighting to get out and cutting each other off. It can get ugly out there! Plus, if He hurries, He can make it home in time to still catch the majority of the ball game.

He'll do better next time. He really wants to care, but there are SO many things to do... it's not that He doesn't WANT to spend an hour with you, it's just that Sunday mornings are so inconvenient.

He'll try harder next time. Maybe go to a different mass, earlier... no later.... yeah, after next week's game is over... unless there's a doubleheader.

Ah! He'll figure it out next week.

But your time is over. You finish your presentation to an empty church wondering how much more effort it would have taken to get to church every week, to pay attention for one hour out of every 168. You wonder how many minutes did you save leaving church early all of those years? And, for the eternal life of you, you can't remember what did you do with those minutes anyway?

Boy, you sure wish you had those minutes back now... unfortunately, it's too late.

Gabe, Lou and Toby Hall

My son, Gabriel, is a baseball nut, so it was no surprise that he wanted to celebrate his birthday at a Devil Rays game. Unfortunately, his birthday is about three weeks after the end of the regular season, so the best we could do was to schedule it during the the last home game of the season.

With 11 kids in tow, we headed down to Tropicana Field to enjoy some cake, see the Orioles vs. the Rays and see Lou Pinella's last game as our manager. The Rays, under owner Vince Naimoli's reign, are insanely bad when it comes to fan treatment. There have been times where four fans, who painted the letters R-A-Y-S on their bodies, were told that being shirtless was against the rules and would have to put on a shirt or leave the stadium. Or the fans who taped up a THANKS LOU banner, which was pulled down because of rules. Or the Rays trying to charge each member of a marching band the price of admission before they were allowed to go in and perform. They are a cheap, minor league organizations in a major league game. But, my son didn't know about all that and shouldn't... he's a kid. And he loves the Rays. So, we organized a party at the stadium.

When things turned ugly at the DRays game for my son's birthday, it was no surprise to me. After all, the DRays are pathetic at this stuff. However, a lot of money went out of our pockets for this birthday party and my wife was not happy... let's say she was explosively very unhappy. In the birthday area, there were not Rays people to greet or direct any of the birthday parties. There was no mascot. There were over 5 parties going on, with over a hundred people, and not enough chairs or seats for everyone. By the time the cakes got there, there was no time for the kids to get autographs from the players. Not that it's hard to for the DRays to succeed at throwing a simple birthday party... it only takes planning and caring, but the reality is that they simply don't care. You can't be that bad at customer service without actively not giving a crap.

My best friend Tim, who worked for a few years for the cheapskate Rays, went over to the only Ray representative that eventually showed up and talked with her. He asked if she was in charge, she said no. He said to get someone who makes decisions. Another woman returned and Tim explained our displeasure. She asked what she could do for him. Tim made a point to say that it wasn't about him, it was about the kids in that birthday party and they had to do something to make that special. The woman left and eventually came back. She offered to allow the kids to go onto the field during the national anthem, each standing next to a player.

Each kid next to a major league player on the field of play... that would be way cool for the kids and make us feel like this entire fiasco could be worth it. The kids were ecstatic.

Dea headed down to the field with the kids for the national anthem. The rest of us went to our seats two rows up in right field. Below are some pics Dea took on the field...

Billy, Hunter, Jonathan, Lonny, Gabe, Raymond, Conner and Thomas

Gabe and crew on the field, waiting for the national anthem.

Raymond, the Rays mascot.

This shows just how close Dea was to the
dugout before the game started.

The money shot. Lou Pinella's last game with the Rays.
He brought the line-up card to the umps and received
a standing ovation on his return to the dugout.
Dea shot this pic... it couldn't have been better.

Gabe heading out for the national anthem
to home plate... after all, he's the birthday boy!

Gabe standing at home plate with the umps and
Rays catcher Toby Hall. Toby shook his
hand after the anthem and talked to him
a bit. Gabe asked him to hit a home run. He didn't,
but this moment made everything great.

We eventually settled into our seats. The Rays ended up losing, 6-2, but we all had a great time...

Everyone in the stands during the game.

Tim, Pete and Charles... kinda.

Gabe in his seat. It is yellow with a plague that shows
this was the seat where Wade Boggs' 3000th hit,
a home run, had landed.

Dea and Trish with some much needed libations.

Pete and Charles watch the Bucs game on a
handheld TV during the DRays game.

Charles Leo Bauer, Jr. and Charles Leo Bauer, III.

After the game, all of the kids in the stands got to run the bases. So, we patiently waited in line for our turn...

Dea and Pete waiting patiently.

DC, who's not a baseball fan, did her best to keep herself
interested during the game. Afterwards she said,
"it was getting pretty drastic. We (she and other girls there)
were so bored we played with our hair for entertainment.

Gabe and his Dad.

We eventually got home around 6:00 p.m. The parents were exhausted. The kids were reinvigorated. What had started out as a disaster had turned into something special.

I hope Gabe doesn't expect this kind of thing every year :)

Monday Morning QB - 10/2

The Bucs overcame a subpar performance on offense. Griese continues to turn the ball over, but the defense kept us in the game. With the Caddy in the garage for the second half, the Bucs did enough to win, including getting some officiating calls, to secure the victory.

Another ugly win. At some point, the bounces will not go our way. It could happen at any game.

My prediction: Bucs 27, Lions 23

Score: Bucs 17, Lions 13

Griese continues to turn the ball over. If the Lions were a quality opponent, we lose this one by a mile. As it stands, all of the Lions points were off of drives from turnovers. This has got to stop.

Offense: D. Two plays for scores, by Pittman and Galloway, don't outweigh four turnovers.

Defense: B. All of the Lions points were off of short fields generated by our turnovers. A great job of holding the Lions to field goals in those situations. Almost gave up a 90 yard drive to the Lions to lose the game, but a close officiaing reversal allowed the Bucs to hold on to the win.

Special Teams: B. We hit all of our PATs and field goals.

Coaching: B. We did enough to win against a bad team. Don't know just how impressive that is.

Outstanding Players: Pittman and Galloway. Stepping up to make enough plays to win.

Things That Drove Me Nuts: Griese's propensity for bad and untimely turnovers! Because of him, we should be 2-2, not 4-0. His turnovers will cost us a game, eventually.

Bucs Record: 4-0. The first quarter of the season is over and, no matter how ugly, you couldn't ask for a better start. Things have to improve in order for the Bucs to make it to the playoffs. We've played the Pack, Vikings, Lions and Bills the first quarter of the season. Their combined records are 3-11, so we've only beaten very bad teams. Our next four games are against the Jets, Dolphins, San Francisco and Carolina, who currently have a combined record of 5-9, with only Miami holding a winning record of 2-1. The Bucs could do well the next quarter of the season, but Cadillac needs to heal and the turnovers have to stop. The pessimist in me says the Bucs go 2-2 over the next four games, losing to Miami and Carolina. But, I thought they'd go 2-2 the first quarter of the season, so what do I know?

Next Opponent: The New York Jets lost their starting and backup QB to injury. They lost last week with their third string QB leading the charge. They signed ex-Buc Vinny Testaverde, who will probably start against the Bucs. The Jets have a solid defense and a good running game, but have been demoralized by the injury to the QB position.

My Life With Crohns So Far... Part 16

When I was a kid, one of the priests at our parish was Father John LaTondress. He was a great priest and a good friend of the family. More importantly to me as a little kid, he had a motorcycle! What’s more cool than a priest with a motorcycle? He took me on a ride once and it was amazing. I can still, to this day, feel the wind on my face and hear his voice over the motorcycle engine.

Many years later, my brother-in-law's father, Ralph, passed away. His funeral was the first time that I understood the sense of loss when someone dies. I had known him for years and realized that his personality would no longer grace the planet. That loss was palatable. It was at that time that I began to pray for those souls that I knew that had died.

Over the course of my life, I had accumulated six people for whom I would pray for… My brother Leo, who was born stillborn years before my birth. My oldest brother Joseph, who died unexpectedly of an aneurysm in 1994. Father LaTondress. Father Jerry, my mother’s cousin. Laura, a friend of a friend who was raped and killed on a hiking trip. And “Aunt” Patsy, a friend’s Aunt who was a great hostess on a memorable trip to California. All of them had died and all of them I pray for weekly at mass.

My health at this time had continued to worsen over two years. I had grown fearful, tired and weak. I had planned my funeral, come to terms with my children forgetting me and certain that this disease would finally get me on its fourth try.

Then, one Sunday, we all went to Mass at a friend’s church to celebrate their daughter’s first communion. When I walked in I was surprised that there was a picture of Father LaTondress at the entrance. What are the odds of that? Was he watching over me? It was reassuring to see his face.

During mass, as I sat silently in the pew and prayed, I had finally reached my end. I prayed silently and fervently when, suddenly, the memory of Shaun King came into my mind. Shaun King??? King was the former quarterback of the Bucs when they went to the NFC Championship game in 1997. I remembered that, when he was a rookie, one reporter asked him if he was afraid about being the QB during the championship game. He quoted Timothy from the Bible and said that fear and faith can’t coexist, so, no, he was not afraid.

As I sat in the pew, I realized just how afraid I had become, just how much fear had grown within my heart. And I was tired, so tired of living this sick life. And so tired of being afraid of what my life had turned into.

So, I prayed to God and said “Lord, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t handle it. I was wrong. In high school, I thought I could handle this disease… I’ve offered every painful moment of it up to you… but I can’t do it anymore. I give up. You win. I don’t have the strength. If that means I have to die, then I’ll die, peacefully. If that means never seeing my children again or holding my wife in my arms, okay. I’ll give that up. But I just can’t be afraid anymore. Afraid of passing out. Afraid of the next surgery. Afraid of missing out on my life. Afraid of losing everything… I can’t be afraid anymore. So, I give this all to you. Take it. Do with it what you want. If that means giving my life to you, then you can have it… I just can’t do this anymore.”

At that moment, the most magical thing happened to me. I literally felt six hands lay on me from behind, on my shoulders, back and head. I glanced and there was no one there, but six hands were touching me. It was at that moment that I realized that those six people whom had been in my prayers all those years, including Father LaTondress, were actually praying over me. I could feel the pressure of their hands on my body… it was amazing. My heart was moved and I was immediately filled with an indescribable peace. Tears streamed down my face. My wife looked to me and mouthed with great concern “Are you all right?” I smiled with contentment and mouthed “I’m fine.”

And I was. The insurmountable burden of fear was released. I didn’t know what that meant as far as my health was concerned, but, whatever path lay ahead of me, I wasn’t afraid anymore. Faith and fear can’t coexist. It reminded me of something my father said to me as a child… sometimes God wears us down because, only at the end, do we give everything up to Him. We are either exercising free will or following God’s will… there is no halfway point.

So, at that moment, I gave everything up to Him. And, with the help of the prayers of my six guardian angels, the chains of fear had broken loose, and I let God take over.

The next time we saw Dr. Levy, as a last ditch effort before surgery, we tried a new medication called Remicade. To everyone’s surprise, it worked… it was as close to a miracle as one can get. My Crohns went into temporary remission. Now, I get a Remicade dosage every three months. Sure, I have bouts of Crohns every now and then, but I got my life back. I was able to shoot a feature film with my daughter. I was able to coach my son’s baseball teams. I’ve been able to celebrate many more wedding anniversaries with my wife.

A few years later I saw Shaun King at a restaurant. Having worked in the entertainment industry, I am not comfortable approaching “celebrities.” But, I was moved by the Holy Spirit… he should know just how much he touched me. So, I relayed the story and told him that, because of one sentence he said years before, one sentence that exemplified his faith, it had guided me through a very dark time. And that, because of that guidance and God’s grace, everything had gotten much better. He shook my hand and asked me my name. “Peter” I said. “I’ll keep you in my prayers, Peter.” And, with that, I left him to finish his meal in peace.

Now, I thank God everyday for this gift of life… and health, even mine. I don’t know if Remicade will work forever. But, by God’s grace, I have been able to live my life again. And that is a gift for which I can only repay through living my life to the best of my ability, through my faith, everyday.

My Life With Crohns So Far... Part 15

Thankfully, I was eventually able to leave the hospital. On the drive home, even the fresh air smelled like wet, smoky laundry. It ended up taking two days for the smell to completely disappear.

When I told my Miami doctor about this upon a follow up visit, he stated he had never heard of such a reaction to anesthesia and the follow up meds before. He was really excited about it all! I wanted to shove his face into a sheet soaked in year long ash tray waste... then see just how exciting he'd think it was. Thinking about the odor, even now, turns my 2-liter stomach.

The expectation after a surgery is that you have about two years where your symptoms should be relatively small… enough time before the scar tissue begins to build. This gives you time to heal and to make some headway in your life before the disease begins to slow everything down again. More importantly, it was time for me to emotionally and spiritually heal from the recent events.

Unfortunately, the Lord had other things in mind and things went from bad to worse.

Soon after my surgery, when they removed my effected areas of my intestinal tract, my Crohns decided to invade my colon. The troops were rounded up and the attack was imminent. Unfortunately for me, I was not informed of this impending colonic battle.

My recovery from this second surgery was very difficult. I just didn’t seem to be getting any better. But, I continued to offer up my illness, my sacrifice, to God. Though my suffering was beginning to take a very large toll, I was determined to praise Him by dealing with it the best I could.

Over the next two years my health continued to worsen. From a year before the last surgery, through surgery, through recovery and now this constant deterioration… would this never end? I was starting down the slipperly slope of declining health and I just didn't have much strength left to fight journey. I had always thought this would end someday... as if the Lord would reward me for my sacrifice by curing me or something. But, then, it wouldn't have been a sacrifice would it? No. I knew that wasn't the deal with offering up my pain... I just hoped beyond everything that the Lord would grant me a miracle.

At this point it seemed as if there was no end in sight. I started to accept the eventual outcome of this latest path and my wife and I started making plans for what would happen if and when I moved on to the next life. We made a will, talked about my final arraignments and what I could do to help her now, in case I didn’t make it.

That’s not a discussion many people ever plan on having with their spouse. How do you correctly end a sentence that starts with the words “When I die…”

It was emotional, it was painful, it was sad, somber and depressing. It hurt me at the deepest levels of my soul. I looked at my kids and wondered if they would remember me. Was I in their lives long enough for them to look back and remember their father? Or would I fade away, like my body was doing? Is this the point of my life, to be half forgotten, fractured memories in my children’s minds? That’s why I was put on this planet? That was God’s plan for me? That’s what my offering up my suffering had gotten me?

Eventually, as my health continued to worsen, Dr. Levy did a colonoscopy. The end result was that over 75% of my colon was covered in ulcers, along with new areas of my intestinal tract and near my stomach. He would try some new medicine, but things were not looking good. Enduring future surgeries was a given. Retaining the rest of my intestines was not a guarantee. The end result of all of our attempts, cloudy at best.

Day after day I was growing weak. And year after year, my faith was evaporating. I was growing more and more afraid. At work, I would get light headed simply walking to the restroom. Almost daily, I felt as if I would pass out. What would happen? Who would find me? What if I passed out in a meeting? Or in the hall? Or in the parking lot? Fear was overwhelming me… "What ifs" filled my mind. I didn’t want to do anything, go anywhere, be anyone… I just wanted to lay in bed.

Finally, I had come to the end of my rope. Something had to change or else I would lose everything.

To be continued…