I wrote that last journal entry just before my pair of Lortabs kicked in, and I’ve been next to worthless ever since.

“Kicked in” is the right word choice. A team of metabolism commandos kicked the door down, and then kicked in my skull. I shall now describe the symptoms of onset as clinically as I can.

0 seconds: “hmmm… my tummy feels funny. I think I’m going to barf.”
10 seconds: “nope, not going to barf. Is it hot in here?”
20 seconds: “why am I pouring sweat?”
22 seconds: I call out to Sandra, but she can’t hear me.
25 seconds: I hit “Submit” and send off my Live Journal Entry
30 seconds: I stagger away from the computer, and Sandra hears me.
60 seconds: I’m back in my bed.
120 seconds: I’m asleep.

Over the last 6 hours we’ve discovered that every hour or so I’ll wake up and get maybe 10 minutes of euphoria mixed with “I need to be doing something.” I’ll come down to the computer, read stuff, and then the cold sweat starts in earnest, and I end up getting escorted back to my bed.

There are two pieces of good news.
1) I assure you, there is no danger whatsoever of me getting addicted to Lortab. I get a better endorphin rush off of capsaicin.
2) I can lift my arm forward now. The episode where I could not lift it was last night. Something healed up a bit while I slept last night and this morning.

Ooooh. I think my 10 minutes are up. More later.

–BRAAAIIIIINS

Much as I want this injury to be a strain, sprain, or other “minor tweakage,” I discovered something last night that pretty much proves there is something out-and-out WRONG with my shoulder.

I mean, besides the fact that some of the pain I get from it makes me gasp in surprise WHILE ON LORTAB.

Before getting into bed I had to remove some clothing. This meant removing the sling. With it off, I decided to take a few minutes and map out the range-of-motion pain. Slowly and excruciatingly I moved my arm around, deliberately taking it places that earlier in the day had been labeled with ugly clap-board signs saying things like “House of Pain,” and “Short, Sharp Shock.” I was pleased to find that the full range of motion seemed to be available to me, provided I didn’t mind the fact that this range could only be reached by walking over broken glass.

Then I tried to reach forward. Uh-oh.

I present this as an exercise for the reader.
1) Sit up straight.
2) touch the top of your computer monitor.
3) I can’t do that with my right hand.

It’s not just “dear me, it hurts too much.” It’s “why can’t I lift my arm?”

I can lift the arm laterally (provided I’m willing to make unpleasant noises and tear up like big cry-baby), but I can’t then bring my extended arm in front of me.

I suspect I’ve found the bit that’s separated.

I just took a Lortab. If this entry stops tracking somewhere in the third or fourth paragraph, you’ll know why.

This morning I failed my dexterity roll rather literally. I was playing volleyball, dove for a ball (which I slapped badly), and then tucked into a right-left shoulder roll (lead with the right shoulder, roll across to the left hip). But I failed my roll, both literally and spectacularly. It ended up being a right-side “shoulder furrow,” followed by a rolling flop onto my back. There were funny noises and sharp pains, but no colorful metaphors because I was playing ball with a bunch of nice ladies from Church.

Ask anybody who has worked with me extensively: I’m quite capable of using foul language. I find it base, demeaning, and unfortunately rather expressive, if in a lowest-common-denominator sort of way. So… it’s not that I didn’t curse because I don’t know how, it’s that there was just enough higher function in my brain to override. What came out of my mouth was a grunt, followed by some throat-charring gutteral groaning as I put my shoulder through a quick self-test to see if anything was broken.

I can tell this is going to get long. Here’s the obligatory ‘More behind the cut’ tag

I’m pretty happy with my collection of Alan Parsons albums. I’ve got all of the “Project” albums except the compilations (which I obviously don’t need), and I’ve got all the post-Project albums. I also have the soundtrack to Ladyhawke, which was a terrible soundtrack (the film’s editors had a hard time fitting it to the film, which is a bad sign right there) but an EXCELLENT piece of listening material.

Shortly after leaving Novell to pursue cartooning full-time, I bought Alan Parsons latest, “A Valid Path,” and that album will, for me, always help me remember the coupling of uncertainty and liberty that described my first month out of the corporate womb.

I thought my collection was complete. I always wondered about the six-year gap between “Gaudi” and “Try Anything Once” (which is, for me anyway, the very best of all Alan Parson’s albums, Project or no), but I’m not hard-core enough to Google it and find out what he was up to.

Well, I found out. I can’t remember the reference that caught my eye, but there was this album released in 1990 (three years after “Gaudi,” and three years before “Try Anything Once”) called “Freudiana,” which was also the last album in which Alan Parsons and Eric Woolfson appeared together. Woolfson is the voice behind the classic Alan Parsons Project hits like “Eye in the Sky” and “Time.” His voice is so soft and smooth… it’s like one of those fuzzy-soft sweaters worn over a silk undershirt. I mean, his voice is AMAZING.

But I digress… “Freudiana” was sort of “The Eric Woolfson Project,” and Alan Parsons worked with him on it, as did several Project musicians, including orchestral arranger/director Andrew Powell and signature-sound guitarist Ian Bairnson. It was a STAGE MUSICAL centering around a journey through the works and world of Sigmund Freud. Needless to say, I had to have it. I found it through Amazon, bought a used copy, and it arrived yesterday.

Wow. I can hear licks that Powell ended up refining on “Try Anything Once,” and that first appeared in “Ladyhawke,” and that’s just the beginning. Parsons’ tunes (the ones that have his name on them) are completely and unmistakably worthy of his good name, and Woolfson’s songs (especially the title track) are every bit as good as the stuff he did on Project albums. There are a couple of tracks in there that don’t mesh with what I imagine the “sound” of “The Alan Parsons Project to be,” but hey, it’s a STAGE MUSICAL, and it’s not like the tracks are bad. There’s a piece on there that reminds me of the innocent days of The Beatles, and a couple of really wacked-out tracks by “The Flying Pickets” that I like more the more I hear them.

So… now that I have MY copy, you Alan Parsons addicts out there can armwrestle over the remaining “Freudiana” copies gathering dust at Amazon. MY collection is complete.

–Howard
p.s. Does anybody out there have a copy of “Lenny Zakatek” (produced by Alan Parsons, and featuring some Project musicians…) they want to part with?