Knights Steakhouse!

Sorry!  I love food and I do love photography.. I am not going to start posting food pictures.

Just not the style I choose, firstly I will be hungry again in six to eight hours, secondly, I am currently so perfectly full of the most delicious porterhouse steak, cooked deliciously to a tender medium rare, cooked differentially to even the cook time of the New York side versus the Filet Mignon both arriving at perfection while basted with a seasoned butter and wine reduction. Side of steak fries perfectly sized and prepared just on the edge of blandness to cleanse your palate between each delectable bite.

Broken bread and a prayer, a couple of draft Labatt Blue’s with a Caesar Salad to start…  did I mention this was at Knights Steakhouse?

The idea came up when I reached out to my niece Kayla for dinner, when I suggested it, she politely declined as it is pricey, however I insisted and hence when she tried to politely decline again, I announced I had already won the game of who gets to pick up the check.

Having solved that issue, we settled the details, and after a slight miscommunication I arrived at the restaurant tonight and found them quickly. I could tell you about the conversation- but that is not my best Kayla story.  I thought about it all night long – and just kept looking in her eyes when I had the chance and smiling while I remembered the night she was born.  I remembered it so well, I could hear the sounds of people singing Happy Birthday.

My nephew Nick was born first and I anxiously awaited the birth of my namesake – how many brothers have their sisters first born son named after them?  And with my spelling there is no mistaking the intent!  However, due to my sisters own tendency to travel and visit people, he was born out of town and I met him several hours later.

When Kayla came around I had a conversation with my sister – I wanted to be present – and she needed to stay in town.  She agreed and said I needed a pager. Simple solutions right?

Fast forward to April and the night came.  I was in bed sleeping at the Sun Valley Trailer Park just outside the eastern city limit and the page came in.  I can’t remember the pre-established code – though anyone that remembers having a one-way pager will know the necessity of these codes – and I sprung into action.

With my nephews out of town birth situation, my sister had tried to excuse this with the fact that the speed of her delivery was such, that even if it had occurred in Jackson, I still would have missed it.  As I said I wasn’t there, though I seem to recall her saying it was fourteen minutes start to finish and the ambulance just barely made it to the hospital.

I knew I had no time.  I knew I had no car.  Socks and sneakers and a warm April night, late in the night as I recall.  I ran down Mantel and started down Ganson and cut down to Admiral on Michigan Ave.  Running though the gas station lot I must have cut someone off and as I kept running down Michigan Ave towards the hospital (then Foote?  Allegiance?  I’m not sure, I know it’s our Hospital in Jackson) the car peeled out and gave chase.

I did not have time for this and I did not have time not for this.

I shouted back rudely in a way I never have before or since.

I challenged those bitch ass punks to put their money where their mouth was cause I was about to kick all their mother fucking asses.  That got their attention.  They pulled a quick u-turn and another across all four lanes of Michigan ave as I keep running now in the near lane off of the sidewalk – and they had no problem catching up and skidding to a stop just in front of me.

I jumped in as quickly as I could and shouted,

“Sorry.  To the hospital – she’s giving birth!” to the driver.

He – they – all just looked at me speechless.  Time stood still and everyone hung in shock.

“Dude…  now.”

The driver snapped his stare and drove.

And we went down Michigan Ave in my yet fasted trip and skidding to a stop at the front doors (the old ones before all the nice new stuff.) I ran in asked for the delivery floor.  Then I took the slowest elevator ride of my entire life.  Ran out of the elevator, down a short hall to the left, turned right through a set of double doors and sprinted down the hall.

To see a nurse carry my niece from a room on the left straight across to a room on the right.

I was that close – maybe fifty feet.

It’s okay though, my sister gave me more practice.

Okay, four minutes to go… received word from doctor, more time needed, working hard and exploring all options.

Direction given, expect final word by end of business on Monday.  We will see.

Henry is doing his best right now, lets root for him, and I am planning and hoping for my surgery on Tuesday.

Time to rest.

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