The Evenin' Shadders

OKLAHOMA CITY — The music wasn’t much comfort. Sitting in the small waiting room at OU Children’s Hospital, I tried to escape from the overwhelming sense of dread about Zach’s surgery with my son’s iPod. Ethan had loaned me the gadget because he though some of my favorite music make me feel better. It didn’t. Time, it seems, had betrayed me. The weeks preceding this day seemed to race by and an almost unnatural speed. But today, time reversed course, and the world stopped in its tracks. Zach was taken to surgery at 7 a.m., sleeping. Since then, Karen and I had sat in the small waiting room surrounded by a sense of dread which hung over us like the smoke of a wood fire. Around 9 a.m. the telephone rang. Debbie, the surgical assistant, called to let me know the surgeons had started and things “were going well.” I felt myself breathe for the first time in days. Debbie called the second time at 11 a.m. “They’re over the halfway point,” she said. “The surgeons still have several things to d

“The waiting is the hardest part Every day you see one more card You take it on faith, you take it to the heart The waiting is the hardest part...” Tom Petty — The Waiting OKLAHOMA CITY — Last week, the world ended. The earth stopped rolling on its belly, the stars failed to shine, and time quickly came to a halt. At least it did for me. For several months now, my wife, Karen and myself, have lived in that gray area between sadness and euphoria. We were elated by the birth of our fourth child, Zachary, but overwhelmed when we learned of Zach’s life-threatening heart defects. Since then our lives have been a roller coaster of emotions — stress fear, reason, love, anger and those practical elements of life: schedules, doctor’s appointments, insurance nightmares, money and the myriad typical household problems that drive “normal” parents nuts. The fear reached its climax last week. • After Zach’s first surgery (detailed in two previous American stories late last fall) Karen and I finally

In the annals of American history, March 2nd is not the most noticeable of dates. True, it can be claimed as the birthday of both Desi Arnaz and Mikhail Gorbachev and, for those whose tastes run somewhat darker, it’s the day cowboy actor Randolph Scott died. And those Americans who are truly students of history know that March 2nd would was the date in 1923 when the first issue of Time Magazine rolled off the presses. They also know that, on that same date in 1927, Babe Ruth was listed as the highest paid player in baseball (he earned $70,000 that year). Further, historians can tell you that on March 2nd, 1933, King Kong premiered at the Radio City Music Hall. On March 2, 1950, Silly Putty was invented. Fourteen years later, the Beatles would film “A Hard Day’s Night” and on March 2, 1974, a federal grand jury would conclude President Nixon was involved in Watergate. Still, even these events don’t accurately portray the true importance of March 2nd. For that, you must jump back to 1904

You’ve seen them. You’ve experienced them. Those questions that stick in your head and pester you until you can’t sleep. They’re not profound, life changing ideas, but stuff you just wonder about. Like the old song says, they are the “things that make you go hmmmmm?” Such as: • Why do young women wear shorts and sweats with the word “Pink” written across the rear? And why, when asked about the fact that having a word stretched across their butt does, in fact, draws attention to their butt, do they complain because you looked at their butt? • How come the Fox news channel claims to be “fair and balanced” when it’s not? • Why some churches will spend millions of dollars sending groups across the world when people starve in the shadow of their buildings? • Why my children can tell me the last 10 people that called our house, when they called, and what they wanted to talk about and their income level and voting record, but these same children can’t remember to take out the trash. • Why Ame

Dear Mr. Red Dodge Truck Driver: You didn’t realize I was watching, did you? Naww. For you, it was just another trip to Crest. You needed a few things and you were in a hurry. Believe me, with a wife and four kids, I understand those unannounced grocery store trips. But once you raced through the parking lot, things changed. That big red pickup you’re driving isn’t a toy. It’s a vehicle and in an enclosed area like a parking lot, any speed above five miles per hour is way too fast. But that wasn’t your worst offense. Since the Crest store in Moore is usually pretty busy, most people have to park further back and spend a little shoe leather to get to the doors. Not you. You circled the lot twice, then pulled right up to the front. Right next to the door. In the handicap spot. Remember those? They are usually painted blue and white with the image of a person in a wheelchair. They’re pretty hard to miss. I know, it may seem like a small thing to you, but it’s not. Allow me to explain: Bac