PATRICK MCVAY

WRITER

My Musings

This text is currently hidden by a css change. Alow's me to go directly to the category description because it is editable in the front end,

Hurricane Leg Approaching

Thirty years ago today, I became an uncounted casualty of the last hurricane to disturb the Massachusetts coast. It was a blood and guts event, as an airborne pane of glass found the middle of my right calf in mid-flight and nearly did me in.

I was given Last Rites, now called Annointing of the Sick (better messaging, according to a team of Vatican communications professionals), and was nearly pronounced dead. The Pope came to my bedside, declaring me a saint. There is now a hospital wing named after me because during my recovery I entertained sick children by popping wheelies on my wheelchair while juggling stethoscopes.

Some of the aforementioned isn't true, but what is true is that my favored right calf was sliced pretty much in half, and if it weren't for the efforts of drunk street people on Harvard Ave in Allston, I might not have survived. (In truth, the drunks just watched; other passersby helped).

Tourniquet in place, I followed that godforsaken hurricane (named Bob, not Leg) right up into Canada and gave it a piece of my mind, cussing it out while I bled all over the north country.

Hurricane Bob is now dead and gone, but I'm still limping along. How ya like me now?! 

Continue reading
  816 Hits

 

 

J'Biden Era Haikuage

 

People's Arms. That's right!

200 million shots

In 100 days

 

We are good people

But we still have far to go

Repair. Restore. Heal.

 

There's nothing new here

The Affordable Care Act

We're restoring it 

 

America's Day

Democracy is fragile

The world is watching 

 

Strategy is based

On Science, not politics

Truth, not denial

 

 

Subscribe To The Blog

Produce This Audio Play!

Ever wanted to produce a radio play?  Think you have the mettle?  Read on!

Tag Cloud

1980s Drumming Tom Waits winter My Parents Hot Air Balloon Canada cornhole soapbox rantings Mom and Dad the future Folk Music Soccer Scotch and Sirloin Red Sox Earth Mike Doughty Mustard Ketchup Masks Rock Bands Accounting Candy Them Kids Pats The Old Days Guns and Ammo Hawaii Skiing Soviet Union Cats New England My sisters US Senate Hand Planes NPR Fiction Mass General Hospital Football Communication Channels Bikes Halloween punk music Soul Coughing Royal Stuff Stairs Allergies Chowder Vaughn Teeth Rabbit Hole College Coyotes Spoon the band Brewing Brain Surgery Bill Monroe Skating baseball Bob Dylan Bicycles The Future Car Dealerships Beer Audio Art COVID-19 Ice Dancing Yeast Godfather Stories I should write Grass Skiing Real Estate Work Golf Theater gathering throngs When I die Canadiana Sports BB King Climate Change Europe midwinter vacations Spice Girls Elvis Presley Emergencies Biden Soup Me Higher Education weather Snow Guns My grandparents Weather Things I've done Bands I've seen Short Fiction Ukraine Marketing Gimmicks Zoom Joan Jett COVID Music Dad advice Putin China plan mid-winter vacations town square The Past Hurricanes Liz Phair Existential Crisis War and Peace the sea Syracuse My Estate Motorists Boston Martinis Ticketmaster Cars Head injuries Politics As Usual Barber Shops Cornhole star Bands I've Seen Vaccines Roommates I've Had Butterfingers Texting Peacekeeping TV Food Bunker Reese's Peanut Butter Cups Bands I haven't seen NFL tambourrine Belgian Ales Eating and Drinking Good Reads Christmas Plastic Reveillon seasons Wind Hache Verde Trump vacation First World Problems nukes high winds curling shoes Audubon Bar People I know Advertising Email Religion Knots Bodysurfing Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde Diseases technology afterlife Quebect Sugarbush The future Big Shoes Eclipse Imaginings coronavirus acerbic high school principal