June 1, 2004: The terrible realization that one of the greatest heroes in your life hovers between life and death ripped my heart to shreds as I imagined my dad paralyzed on the left side, strapped in a hospital bed, unable to swallow or move.

Read the other chapters of our Baby Boomer  Saga concerning our aging parents by Clicking Here.

The first day we drove for 14 hours.

Janet was so tired she was almost comatose. I was pumped up and just wanted to get to my parent's house. My dad and mom needed our help.

When Janet started putting a towel over her head and mumbling in her sleep, it was time to get a hotel.

She was twisted into a pretzel, having to share her space with the overflow of items that would not fit in the trunk or back seat. It was time to stop at the very next exit that featured motels or hotels.

What would be the best choice, "Motel West" or "Motel East?"

These are strange options when there is only one hotel visible. I decided to try "Motel West." Certainly it would offer more choices. As I took the turnoff, the "Twilight Zone" arrived suddenly.

The sign had lied.

There were not motels. We continued to drive east on a deserted road. Was this a mistake? Were we insane...headed for the "Bates Motel." Eventually "Motel East" transformed into "Motel West." We drove by three small motels out of the 50s, then were back at the HWY 10. I made a U-turn. We pulled into the one that looked less seedy than the rest.

"Can we make a deal?"

The hotel manager was obviously from India. At 11 PM, in the middle of nowhere, there was some bargaining power was on my side. "How much for a non-smoking room with double beds?" He answered, "$39.95." "How about a deal? Do you accept AARP, AAMCO, AAA or have a special for people over 55? (What's the deal with all the As in these organizations?") He said, "How about $29.99?" "Okay," I agreed.

The motel manager had just dropped his price to the same as the other two competing motels.

He knew his competitors' prices and that if he did not give me the going rate, we were on to the next motel. My credit card accepted one more charge in the long procession of gas, food and treats.

At the room, I proceeded to unload all our valuable possessions as Janet prepared for restful slumber.

Actually Janet was already asleep and just sleep walking, mumbling about how insensitive I was because of not stopping sooner. After 20 minutes there was barely enough room in the rooms to get into bed. No matter, Janet and I were so tired, we fell into bed in a state of exhausted oblivion.

Oh man, now it was time to pack all that stuff back into the car again.

You guessed it. "Yes!," Janet said. "You wanted to unload the car, now load it back up again while I make myself pretty." "Okay," I muttered under my breath, hoping she would not hear my reply. After another 30 minutes...it took longer to reload it than unload it for some reason...we were ready to go.

If only there was a "Starbucks" in the general vicinity, my day would be saved, as my caffeine addiction would be satisfied.

But, wishful thinking again. After all, what was I thinking? We were in the middle of nowhere.

Finally, we arrived in Tucson, civilization and "Starbucks" I hoped.

Well, no "Starbucks," but we did find a coffee house. My withdrawal symptoms were reaching extreme levels of discomfort. Before the car even stopped, I was out the door into the shop begging for a "cup of Joe"...the strongest they had available. The first sip was bliss, my shattered nerves shouting for joy.

The beautiful girls gave us directions to a "Cracker Barrel" where the breakfast was delicious.

Then it was back to the coffee shop for a refill. They even gave me a free sample of a "cherry, whipped cream, chocolate ice something or other." While sipping the unexpected treat, the gorgeous blond behind the counter begged us to take her to San Diego. "Sorry, Janet said, "Our car is too packed. You could not fit anything else in even if you had a shoe horn."

A wild thought suddenly coursed through my mind.

"You could lie spread eagle on the hood, but it would be a real bad hair day." Being married for 8 years, the pain of experience of stupid comments forced me to keep this thought secret. It was only another macho, sex-driven, horny guy impulse that seemed to afflict men like a disease 24 hours a day.

On the way out the door, I innocently asked another stupid question.

"Hey did that cherry thing have any caffeine in it?" The girls just laughed. "That little treat was equivalent to two shots of espresso."

Yikes! With the previous cup of strong coffee, the treat and my current coffee reload, my mouth would be moving spontaneously the rest of the 8 hour trip.

Janet would have to keep saying, "Shut up! Stop talking. You are drinking way too much coffee. You will be a "Monkey Man" all the way to San Diego." How true...Caffeine bliss to the max.

To Be Continued...