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2007-02-18 - 7:57 p.m.

Part One: The Sky Is Falling

Yipes. I thought yesterday's pipeline explosion and subsequent fireball 10 miles away that sounded like jet engines overhead was enough drama for one evening.

I was waking from a nap at the time, and when the sound didn't go away...I peeped out the window. But didn't see anything odd. When the sound persisted, and began to resemble waves of rolling thunder, but nothing like I'd ever heard before, I, for about half a minute, wondered if we were being invaded by aliens.

I got up and looked out the window again. A few people were running down the street towards the weird noise that made every dog in the neighborhood bark.

UH OH. What the fuck? I threw on some clothes and leapt downstairs, woke up mom from her nap right as the next door neighbor called to tell us to "shelter in place" and that she thought there was some kind of gas explosion.

Of course, I ran outside 5 minutes later out of intense curiosity, while other neighbors were gathering around on their sidewalks.

I could see a glowing orange light behind the tree line. SPOOKY.

Mom and I were already on edge...and then things took a definitive turn for the worse closer to home.

About an hour after the explosion (while we were waiting for the TV news to report the incident and give us some details), mom decided to call Dad in Baton Rouge before I jumped on the computer and tied up the line. They talk twice a week on the phone (Wednesdays and Saturdays, unless something else comes up).

To her surprise, Dad picked up his cell phone right away (he usually only turns his cell on when HE'S ready to talk to people). Since he doesn't have a landline anymore, we often have to leave messages if his cell is off.

At any rate, instead of the usual chit chat and mom relaying the pipeline explosion story as I'd expected, I heard her say "What's wrong? You did? Oh geeeeez, honey! Are you ok? When did this happen? You called who? Ok, ok! But call me back and let me know what's going on as soon as you can."

I was sitting over on the couch, watching her facial expressions as she hung up the phone.

"What was that all about? What's the matter?"

"Your dad fell. Oh, Jesus. He sounded very confused and incoherent. He said something about falling on tiles, that he had called 4 people, one guy couldn't come over, he's waiting on someone else to call him back and he didn't want to tie up the phone. He said maybe someone could take him to the hospital tomorrow morning..."

"What the hell? Why didn't he call 911?"

"I don't know! But you know your dad. He didn't tell me what he injured when he fell or where it happened or when. I didn't have a chance!"

After a flurry of pondering this, that and the other, mom left a message for my brother and his wife in Dallas, then the phone rang and it was one of Dad's friends, Art. He seemed to think he was calling Dad's Baton Rouge house. Meanwhile, Mom was under the impression Art was Dad's former neighbor. Mom explained that we were in Houston and all we knew was that he fell, blah blah. Art said he was on Dad's street, but not at the right house. Mom clarified the address and Art said he would call us back as soon as he could.

We thought it was strange that a former neighbor couldn't remember which house Dad lived in.

About 20 minutes later, Art called back and only after a few minutes did mom discover that this Art was a co-worker of Dad's. He said that Dad fell again once they'd gotten in the house. Art said that his wife, a nurse, was with him, they were trying to convince him to go to the hospital. But Dad, being Dad, was stubborn as a mule. (Which begs the question: Why did he call anyone if he didn't want to be taken to a hospital? What were they supposed to do? Tuck him in bed and hold his hand?)

Art said they would get him to the hospital and call us with the latest news.

Meanwhile, my sis-in-law called to find out what was going on (they'd been out at a cub scount awards night), mom relayed the details and said we'd call when we heard something.

Mom and I talked about the situation for a good while, then finally settled in and watched TV, knowing that emergency room admittance can take several hours.

Art finally called a few hours later (he'd already gotten home), said Dad had been given a room and that X-rays were going to be done to make sure nothing was broken. The hospital would contact him in the morning and he'd let us know the status.

Mom relayed the news back to my brother and sis-in-law. My brother was already making preparations to head out to Baton Rouge the next day to assess the situation and determine if/when we needed to head out there.

After that phone call, there was nothing to do but wait and try to get some rest.

Mom and I were tired/wired and we stayed up and I talked her into watching Saturday Night Live, which she has never cared for. But it was a rerun with Justin Timberlake and I'd heard (somewhere) that it was a pretty good one. Luckily, I'd heard right, and mom really got a kick out of the Target sketch (where JT plays a long-haired dopey stocker with a continuing series of lip issues -- his delivery was a hoot!), and the Barry Gibb Talk Show skit (with Jimmy Fallon as Barry and JT as Robin) which was a friggin' riot, and mom loved it because she's a big BeeGees fan.

But my most FAVORITE part was the SNL digital short music video "Dick in a Box" with Andy Samberg and Justin Timberlake. OH MY GOD. I laughed my ASS OFF. If you haven't seen this, be prepared for a treat. Here's the uncensored version (that I have watched about 10 times since I found it). I CANNOT get this song out of my head!

Damn, I love it when guest hosts really ham it up and have fun on SNL.

Alrighty...before I get back into the serious stuff, I need to log off in case anyone's trying to call us. I feel guilty for tying up the phone line.

Will post Part Deux later tonight.