This morning, Mike and Shannon took Richie and Lauren, and left.

I mentioned this on Twitter, but couldn't possibly tell the whole back story there for all the friends who don't know any of it. So here's the back story in the form of a timeline. After the history lesson is a recap of what happened today.

Since then things have just kept on keeping on. Except...

Today Things Get Ugly

Shannon got sick a few weeks ago. Stomach cramps, in the area of her appendix, but they said it wasn't appendicitis. She spent a few days in the hospital, but they never figured out what was wrong. She improved, but still walked with a limp. Her Massage Therapy instructor said she felt a torn muscle in her abdomen, and Shannon was pretty sure that was it.

She stopped going to school. The first few days were understandable: she was in the hospital, or could barely walk. But then she'd miss because she felt a little nauseous (oh, forgot to mention they got pregnant again). Corinne and I were concerned she was losing her motivation.

This morning she stayed home again. Corinne found out while I was taking my shower, and asked her about it. Mike told me she was home while I was eating my breakfast. He said the school didn't care if she missed the days, she'd be able to make it up. Shannon came into the room and I asked her about it. She gave me a completely different story from Mike... basically she sounded defeated. Making up all of her "logs" (practice massages) and schoolwork would be too much work. She'd even have to drive to Hartford (90 minutes)!

I told her/them that she can't drop out, passively or otherwise. We can't support their family forever. Her Massage Therapy certificate was the “end game”: it was to be their ticket to self-sufficiency. Mike, getting angry, said she still has her job at Staples, and they'll keep paying us our $60 per week. (Which covered their two cell phones, but not much else.)

“Don't yell at her about this, it's her choice,” he said. Now I was mad. I tried to explain that this “choice” of hers is costing me money. Everything I said resulted in the same response, almost a dozen times, “It's her choice.”

I don't remember, now, exactly how it happened, but Mike said they'd move out by the end of the week. Entirely out of anger, and now to my regret, I told him to be out within the hour. By this time, we were in the basement (their apartment).

We went upstairs, and he held the kitchen door open. I'm not sure why, as (most?) everybody else was outside. I started to go through the open door, but he snarled, “Don't you touch that door.” Well, I wasn't going to, but telling me not to touch my own door... bah. Anger sucks. I touched it. “What, do you want to fight me?” Sure. Let's go outside.

No, I had no intention of fighting him. I just wanted to say goodbye to the little girl.

Somehow, he ended up over by Shannon's car, talking to her, while I was still inside. I don't remember waiting to go out, but I must have. When I came out, I asked what they were still doing there. “We're leaving!” I told him he wasn't leaving, he was standing there talking.

I walked over to the back door, passenger side, to say goodbye to Lauren. Shannon yelled, “Don't touch my kid!” and Mike came flying around the car. I said I was just going to say goodbye to her, and Mike said I wasn't. Yes, though, I was. I opened the door before Mike could block it, and, well...

He punched me in the left ear. Big roundhouse punch. Maybe it's my height, or my size, or maybe he pulled it at the last moment, but it didn't really hurt. Definitely surprised me, though I didn't fall down or anything. Shannon yelled, “Michael!” I looked at him and said, “You're crossing a line you can't ever come back from.” (Ok, so it was a little awkward, but he knew what I meant and so do you.)

Then I walked back to the car, opened the door (again), and calmly told Lauren I loved her very much, to please be a good girl, and that I may not see her ever again. Mike was trying to pull me away, but I just ignored him. She was scared and confused, but Opa was talking to her calmly so maybe it was going to be ok. She gave me a little smile, and said she'd be a good girl.

I went inside and talked to Corinne. I was crying. Two and a half years of our life had been devoted to helping Mike and Shannon straighten themselves out and become (legally) self-supporting... all destroyed by pride. Probably pride on both sides.

Shannon came back about 90 minutes later with a Westerly cop. He was just her escort as she got some of their stuff, because (she said) she didn't feel comfortable going to the house alone.

We haven't seen or heard from them since. They have no diapers, food, or money. A few clothes. They're probably going to live with Mike's grandfather in North Stonington, but we don't know for sure.

We're both really worried about the kids, Richie and Lauren. Mike and Shannon can fend for themselves (mostly). The kids don't deserve this insanity. :-(

Saturday, August 2, 2008

This was my sixth year riding the PMC, and my fourth year to include the Huckleberries ride (which makes it a three-day event). Those previous three years, I was totally exhausted on Saturday morning from the hard ride on Friday.

This year was different...

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Friday, August 1, 2008

This ride was epic.

There were fifteen of us, as shown in the picture below:

15 at the Start

From left to right: Scott, Joel, Jon, Tom, Mark, Dave, Tim, Not Sure, Ellen, Me, Steve, Mike, Mark, Not Sure, and Steve.

Could someone fill me in on the "Not Sures" please?

Did I forget to mention that I was riding with Lilliputians? They may be tiny, but they make up for it with numbers!

Click the image for higher resolution. (This is Mark Stockwell's photo, used with permission.)

Not pictured...

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Thursday, July 31, 2008

“Day -1” is the travel day from home in Mystic, CT to our hotel on the MA/NY line in West Stockbridge, MA. This day is normally quite uneventful, if slightly stressful. I sleep poorly the night before (mostly due to excitement), work in the morning instead of packing, hear a little (deserved) fussing from Corinne because I haven't yet packed, then finally pack everything into the car and leave.

Things were a little different this year. I slept well, and only worked for less than an hour in the morning, while Corinne was at a doctor's appointment (checkup), and manage to pack most of my clothes before she returned. I checked my Gmail account to see if any new software donations had come in, and found that someone had donated 1,000 licenses of his app!

After Corinne returned and we finished the packing, I started loading up the minivan which we borrowed from my Dad for the trip. My bike was the last item to go in, and I was prepping it in the garage. Dad was holding Lauren, and kept "peeking" her out around the garage door so I could say "boo!" and make her giggle a little. The last time he did it, I jumped at her to get a bigger reaction... and my left foot landed squarely on an old screw on the garage floor... !

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Months and months ago, my friend Daniel Berlinger offered to send me a box of Clif Bar Mojo Bars if I'd comment on them — good or bad — here on the site.

He sent them almost immediately. I, however, never got around to writing about them. Ahem. That darn Seth!

He's reminded me over a month ago. Then he reminded me again a couple minutes ago! OK, he's been very patient, so here's my side of the deal.

Mojo bars are "energy" granola bars. They're intended for cyclists and hikers, people who need to keep their energy levels way up. Unfortunately, I've never been a big fan of the combination fo granola bars and cycling!

My first experience eating a granloa bar while cycling was in my first or second PMC. I remember it quite clearly, because I thought it was going to kill me! I had been riding pretty hard, but slowed down to eat the granola in my jersey pocket. Took my first bite, and found out the hard way that they take too long to chew up! Duh. But since I'd been riding so hard, I couldn't breathe deeply enough through my nose... so I inhaled through my mouth, and with all that wonderful air came a lung full of granola crumbs. Cough, cough. Cough, cough, cough... ack... I'm dying here... cough, cough. Stop on the side of the road, everything goes sparkly and dark for a second, cough up the rest of the crumbs, breathe a little...

Anyway, that was years ago. The mojo bars were this year. I was more careful this time, and knew better than to eat one while still huffing-and-puffing. They didn't try to kill me, and that's a major point in their favor!

It's been a few months since I tried them, and I'd be lying if I said I could remember the names of all of the flavors. Instead, I looked up the names in one of Daniel's old posts. Once I saw the names, I did at least remember what I thought of the bars.

• Mixed Nuts: Eh. About what you'd expect. Tasted like mixed nuts, but in bar shape.
• Fruit Nut Crunch: I liked this one.
• Mountain Mix: Eh. So-so.
• Chocolate Peanut: Very tasty. Two great tastes that taste great together, and I've always been a sucker for a Reese's.
• Honey Roasted Peanut: I was expecting (or at least hoping for) the taste of Planter's honey-roasted peanuts, but it isn't really like that. It's more like really sweet peanuts.
• Peanut Butter Pretzel: If I remember this one correctly, then it's one of the four I would buy again. Sweet and salty.
• Peanut Butter and Jelly: This had one of the best flavors, but could have a used a touch of salt.

I'm still not a fan of granola bars during bike rides, but I do like to have one at least 30 minutes before heading out. Unfortunately, Mystic Cycle doesn't carry them, so I need to talk them into picking some up for me if I'm going to make them part of my daily routine.

Sorry this took so long, Daniel!