Chapter 77 - November 20, 2012

A dog with a bone was crossing a bridge. The bridge was crossing a lake that was super smooth. There was no wind. The water was super smooth. The dog got to the middle of the bridge and looked down in the water. Oh yeah, the dog was carrying a big bone. Anyway, he looked down and he saw another dog with a big bone. He thought, "Well, I want that bone as well." So he quickly tried to grab the other bone. It turned out to be his own reflection and he lost everything cause he tried to be greedy. The moral of the story is, don't be too greedy. I have no idea why I thought of that, but I thought I'd share it with you.
Hi everybody! Welcome to another week in paradise. Man, I'm getting tired of this traumatic brain injury stuff, but I've got a new therapist who's pretty cool. He got me on my stomach again. Remember, a couple blogs ago I mentioned I got on my stomach? Well, it's a bit of a strange feeling because I've been on my back for 2 years. Anyway, I did some yoga stuff on my stomach, and my next thing is to try and crawl. I can afford a new therapist because of my spend-down from Medicare. Let me quickly explain what spend-down is. When you get Medicare, they will pay for your therapy, but you have to also in effect kick back to them a large amount of money. I can deduct some therapy from this kick back. It's all, how do I say politely, it's all, um, bullshit. It's also confusing, but, hey, I'm just playing by the rules. I didn't make them up. Anyway, therapy is going good and my eyesight is getting better. It’s hard to describe, but it's like my body's waking up. I mentioned it before, but it's a long, slow process. It's like when you wake up in the morning, but it goes on for months and months.
I'm pretty tired of talking about this traumatic brain injury. I'm going to tell a few stories. Remember, I've been on my back for a long time and when I kind of freak out I think of things from the past. Here are a few random things that happened to me. These are 3 random stories.
The following story took place in Paris, in the '90's. My friend had a restaurant and at the end of the night, we would lock the doors, pull down some curtains, break out the calvados, turn up the music and party. Well, my friend had a big dog. A big Great Dane. It used to sleep under the spiral staircase in the bar. Anyway, I was sitting at the bar one day and I said to another friend, "Hey, see that dog over there? If you touch his balls, it'll bring you good luck." I was a bit drunk. Well, my friend said, "I need some good luck," and he went over and touched the dog's balls. Well the dog looked at him like - did you just fucking touch my balls? I thought the guy was gonna lose his hand but it all happened so quickly, I don't think the dog had time to react. Well, the next day, out of the blue, my friend got a phone call. He was a photographer and he got an assignment to photograph a famous actor on the cover of a big magazine. He was psyched. Well, we had to celebrate so we went back to the restaurant and partied all night, and he said to me, late, at the bar, he said to me, "It works! Touching the dog's balls will give you good luck." I said, in a drunken state, "Well, I need some luck." and I went over and touched the dog's balls. Well the dog raised his head and in a Scooby Doo voice he said "Hmmm?" He looked at me like; you didn't just do that did you? Anyway, it worked because the next day I got an assignment to go to Italy and photograph for a famous fashion magazine. It worked. Well, I got back from my trip, we went to the bar to celebrate. There were some cute girls at the bar, and I was trying to explain to them, in my drunken state, I was trying to explain why it's good luck to touch the dog's balls. That didn't go over so well. For some strange reason, they wouldn't talk to me.
The above reminds me of many nights at that cafe. One night I was talking to my friend and over his shoulder, out the window, I saw a beautiful Mercedes going by, upside down. Sparks going everywhere. The car hit the median strip and flipped over. Well we all ran outside and being the drunken idiots we were, we pulled the driver out of the car. He was covered in blood. We said, " Are you all right man?" He said, "Oh man, my friend is going to kill me." He smelled like he had had a few drinks. Well, we rushed him into the bar. "Quick, drink some of this," and we poured him some of our favorite drink, calvados. He started drinking and the police arrived. They said, "Who's Mercedes is that upside down in the middle of the street?" The driver slurred, "It's mine." Well, you can use your imagination. It was a crazy place, that cafe.
I'll tell a few more stories.
The following story took place in Texas. I was on my dirt bike with my brother in law at the time. We were driving up a dried up riverbed. I saw a path leading to the riverbed. I stopped my bike, went out to check out the path. It looked like it was well used. I decided to explore the path. My brother in law came with me. Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you the reason why we were on our dirt bikes out in the middle of nowhere was because we were looking for arrowheads. It was kind of mini adventure. Anyway, we started walking down the path and the path led to a small hill in the middle of the desert. We followed the path up the hill and it led to a cave. The view from the cave was a mazing. I had my camera and I started to set up to take a shot. Then, I looked down to my right. There was a clear area where something large had been sleeping. There was fur matted down everywhere and there were bones scattered around. I thought to myself, oh my god, I'm in a mountain lion den. Not good, so I said to my brother in law, "I think we should go." Well, we started to leave. I have heard that if you face a big cat, you're chances are greater for survival if you facing him, so my brother in law faced backward I face forward. We were back to back walking down the path. We looked like a couple of young idiots. Thank god no one could see us. Anyway, this moveable feast was going down the hill. I looked down at his feet. He was wearing cowboy boots. He was a big guy, a big football player. I was a slight, shorter runner, and I had my running shoes on. He looked at me, and he said, "What are you looking at? Your running shoes?" I said, "Yeah." He said, "You think you can outrun a mountain lion? I said, "No, I can't outrun a mountain lion, but I can outrun you." Just kidding. I would never leave him behind. Anyway, we got to our dirt bikes and took off.
OK, I'll tell one more story'
The following story took place in the Bahamas. It was the late 1980's. I was on assignment to shoot a beauty story for a famous British magazine. I was shooting a girl in a beautiful dress underwater. Every once in a while, I would come up to the surface and direct the girl. Well, I looked over to my left, there was a very famous actor. He was just taking a swim. Well, I got bored with the model and I thought, I’ll scare the shit out of the actor. I swam under water over to him, and as he was swimming on the surface, I came out of the water like a Polaris missile and said, "Cheese" and showed him my camera. For some reason, he didn't think it was funny. The guy almost had a heart attack. Well, I apologized to him. I didn't mean to scare him, but then he started getting feisty and we had words. I think the last thing I said to him was "Why don't you shave your back?" I've never seen a hairier back in my entire life. The guy looked like he was wearing a sweater vest.
Anyway that's all for this week. I continue to work hard and do therapy. Remember, I'm doing this to help people who might have traumatic brain injury. Remember, when things get tough, remember some event or things that have happened to you. See you later. Love, B. Nice.



Chapter 76 - November 14, 2012

This is an unprecedented event. My friend and I are going to post another blog this week. Amazing huh? Anyway, we're going to post another blog because I'm taking care of some legal stuff right now and she is helping me. You see, when you have traumatic brain injury, it doesn't mean you're normal life is put on hold. You still gotta deal with everyday shit. It makes things real tough. It's not easy, but I get through it. I want to reinforce that stress is not good for you right now, if you have traumatic brain injury. Anyway, I wanted to tell some stories because it'll get my mind off the day.

Oh, I forgot to say, Hi Everybody! I want to dedicate this blog to all my friends that have helped me. It helps a lot to have so much support. I can't list them all. Many of you have emailed me. because of the way I am I can't email you back, but I read each and every email and I appreciate your support and your love.

Now I'm going to go back to telling a few stories. They're random stories.

A good friend of mine used to have awesome fishing boat. It was a time when I lived in Montauk, New York. He would often go off shore to fish for tuna. Sometimes he'd call me up and invite me on a fishing trip. Anyway, we would catch a lot of really good fish. I wasn't into fishing so I drove the boat and drank the beer. One day we were about a hundred miles off shore. I said to my friend, "I'm going to go for a swim." He said, "Not a good idea." I said, "Why what's the big deal?" He said, "Trust me. You don't want to swim out here." So I went back to driving the boat. Well, everyone started catching tuna. They were a good 70 pounds. They all caught one except for me. And they said, "Brian, come on, you gotta catch one. Come on give it a try." I reluctantly said OK, I got in the chair and they gave me a pole and I got one on the line. It was another 70 pound tuna. I started to reel it in. It was really fighting. I got it close to the boat when all of a sudden a white mini van came out of the water. No, it wasn't a mini van, it was a huge mako shark and had its mouth wide open. It ate my fish in one gulp. I reeled in an eye and some lips. My friend said, "See, that's why you don't swim from the boat out here." I went back to driving the boat. Oh, yeah, and had a beer. It was crazy.

I'll tell one more random story. When I was a kid, I had a good friend that I played with. The house I lived in with my family was a big old federal house. Anyway, it was around during the revolutionary war. My friend and I were in the back yard playing when all of a sudden the guy who was cutting the lawn got his tractor stuck. We helped him pull it out of the lawn. We cleared the grass away, we found a door. We cleared more grass away, opened the door and there was a big pit that went down around 10 feet. I went and got my dad. We determined from the mortar that it was built a long long time ago. There were many munitions storage in the area during the revolutionary war so my friend and I thought we found one. When we both got down to the bottom with a ladder, we started digging and found another door. There wasn't enough room for both of us so my friend said, "Please, please let me open the door. It would be so cool." So I said OK. I went up the ladder and lowered a crowbar down to him. he tried with all his strength to open the door. He finally got it open and I hear a big whoosh some gas escaping, then I heard him scream, "Oh, my God," and a geyser of shit came up. It covered the ladder, he crawled up the ladder screaming. He was covered in shit and toilet paper. We had discovered the septic system. My father wasn't very happy. Anyway, that's it for now. I gotta get back to life. My friend here will include some more cartoons and a link to my project. Talk to you next week. Love, B. Nice




https://mypointofviewproject.wordpress.com/

Chapter 75 - November 13, 2012

Monotonous. Tedious. Claustrophobic. Never ending. Schedulized. Repetitive. No, I'm not talking about marriage. I'm talking about traumatic brain injury recovery. See, it takes time to get better. This routine reminds me of a period in my life called pre-season cross-country. You see, we would give up August to run pre-season. We did this at our own will. We would give up 3 to 4 weeks to train. We always stayed at our coach's house. Our schedule was pretty much this: Get up at 7. Have a light breakfast. Train from 8 to 11. Have a lunch. Take a nap. Train from 3 to 6. Have dinner. Watch TV and go to bed. We did this for about 3 weeks. My schedule right now is pretty much the same. But I've been doing this for 3 years! Anyway, I said it before, but I'll say it again, there's some periods of my life that got me ready for this. I believe pre-season got me ready for what I'm going through right now.

Hey, talking about college, let me tell a few stories. I met this girl, kissed her and thought, hey, let's get a place together. So we moved in together, being the young idiot I was. Anyway, on the weekends, I would always go to track meets to compete. I was pretty good. I would run the qualifiers on Saturday and then run the finals on Sunday. I would always make the finals. But one weekend, I didn't feel so good. I didn't make the finals in any race so I decided to surprise my girlfriend and go home early. (Never surprise your girlfriend.) Surprising her was to turn out to be my second mistake. My first mistake was moving in with her. Anyway, I got home early, grabbed a beer out of the fridge, sat down at the kitchen table and started to go through the mail. I looked over to my right and there was a leather jacket on the chair. I thought to myself, "That's not my jacket. It's an ugly jacket, but that's not mine." Then I heard some noise coming from the back bedroom. Our bedroom! I went back there and pushed the door open. Very slowly. Creaking sound.... I opened the door slowly and there he was, my neighbor, in bed with my girlfriend. He pulled the sheets up to his chin and he said, "Don't do anything stupid man." And I said, "I think you beat me to that." I turned around, walked to the table, grabbed my beer and left. I didn't know where to go, so I thought, well, I'll go to the movies. I saw Outland with Sean Connery, three times. No one would sit next to me. What's wrong with a guy with a beer and popcorn crying at a science fiction movie? Anyway, the whole thing I think kind of freaked me out. I got my own apartment, built a full on bar in the living room, complete with beer on tap 24/7. I bought a rabbit and named him Andrew. I bought a water bed. (Never buy a rabbit and a water bed at the same time.) Anyway, I had lots of girlfriends, lots of parties, I got to know campus security quite well. PS. I have a lot of stories about the rabbit, Andrew, the water bed was just one story. I guess he was pretty thirsty one day and he wanted to get some water so he burrowed into my water bed. I'll let you use your imagination. I had strange dreams that night. Anyway, Andrew was one situation that always comes to mind. I'll just throw some random things out there. There's Andrew the Rabbit. Campus Security. A 442 Cutlass Oldsmobile with mag wheels. Campus Paramedics. 21 shots of tequila on a 21st birthday. A roommate trying to bring a skunk home because he thinks it's a kitty cat. A Dodge Dart that goes 100 miles an hour. Going through a tollbooth pushing a car. A fake cast on an arm. The list is endless. That period of my life was quite an adventure. Thank god it was only 4 years. Anyway, my friend here will include some drawings from my journals, and check out the link to my new project:  https://mypointofviewproject.wordpress.com/

Other than that, I don't have much else to report. I keep on working hard. I'll talk to you guys next week. Love, B. Nice

Chapter 74 - November 6, 2012

I'd like to dedicate this week's blog to my mother. See when you have a traumatic brain injury, you really need a point person. I mentioned before, my mother is my point person. You will be assigned a social worker, that's for sure. But you also need a point person, someone to basically look after you. I said it before, but I just want to remind you how important it is.

Hi everybody. Welcome to another week in paradise. I'm sorry I missed last week. We had a huge storm. They even gave it a name, Superstorm Sandy. We were lucky. We only lost power for a week. It worked out OK. We only lost a few trees. But it's why I missed blogging you last week. I went to a party this week, and I met a gentleman that bought one of my photos. He turned out to be very ill. You would never know it from looking at him, but he had a serious illness. We got to talking and we both agree, it's so important to stay positive. It'll really get you through the tough times. You see, there's a positive for every negative. The reason I say that is I had a good friend visit me. He was supposed to stay for 2 days, but because of Superstorm Sandy, he was stuck here for a week. When I look at him, I think of 2 words: Party Animal. He and I did enough drinking back then to make up for an entire life. Let me just tell you a few stories. Once we were at a bar. We got in his truck and we realized we shouldn't drive. So he elected to sleep in the cab and I slept in the back. Well, I woke up to someone shaking me. I looked up to see a police officer. He said to me, "I'm glad you decided not to drive, but you've got to pick up all your trash." I looked at the parking lot and I guess to make room for my sleeping bag, I had thrown out all the empty beer cans. The whole lot was filled. Another time was in college. We decided to go to a fraternity party. When I say we, I mean my track team. Anyway, it was close to closing time and we got in a small altercation with the fraternity boys. They pushed us outside and then surrounded us. They wanted to pick a fight. Well, I was ready to leave, and then all of a sudden, someone came out of nowhere and punched my good friend in the head. He punched him so hard, he knocked him down and my friend hit his head on the ground. An ambulance had to be called. Next thing you know, I'm in the hospital with my friend. Well, this really pissed off my other friend who was a quarter miler. He said to me, "Come on, let's go back to the fraternity." And being the drunk young idiot that I was, I said, "OK." We went back to the fraternity, went to the exit stairs. I was going to go up with my friend, the quarter miler. He turned to me and he said, "No, you stay here. I work better alone." He went up the stairs. All the fraternity boys were at the bar on the top floor. My friend, the quarter miler, went behind the bar and he said to a guy pouring beer, he said, "Are you the guy who punched our friend?" They were all in shock that he was there. The guy pouring the beer said, "Yeah, that was me. So what?" Well, my friend, the quarter miler, punched the guy in the nose so hard he dropped him. All the other fraternity boys, the whole house couldn't believe it. Then they jumped over the bar to get my friend, he slipped out, I don't know how, but he got away from them. They chased him. He grabbed a big chair. He said, "Stop, or I'll throw this through your stained glass window." They all stopped. They said, "No No, not our stained glass window!" And my friend, the quarter miler said, "That's a nice window," and then he said, "Well fuck you," and he threw the chair in the window. Well this really got them upset. They chased him down the stairs. As he jumped past me, my friend the quarter miler said, "You better start running." It sounded like a herd of cattle running down the stairs. Well, I followed my friend. He was fast. I was fast as well. I used to be a miler and 800 meter runner. Well, we got away from them pretty quick, so quick I had time to stop, turn to them, they stopped, I said, "Wait, hold on one second. I've got something for you." I reached into my pants and I pulled out my hand, produced my middle finger and said, "There, that's for you, fuck you," and then laughed and started running. They never did catch us. I still get chills when I hear the name of that fraternity. That's why I call my friend a Party Animal. Oh yeah, that reminds me of one more story about my friend the quarter miler. I used to always have parties at my apartment, but there was this guy that lived across from us. He always called the campus security. He was a big tattle tale. He would always laugh and stand in the doorway as the police came to break the party up. Well, one time, the quarter miler was really angry that this guy called the police. He interrupted a really good party. Well, we just happened to have a large rocket in our apartment. You know, the kind you have on the 4th of July. Anyway, we fired the rocket at the guy. He screamed, "OH my God!" and dove into the bushes. The rocket, thank god, missed him, but went into his apartment. All I saw was white, yellow, red, blue. The whole place was light up. The police arrived, and the fire department. Funny, the guy never turned us in again.

So here we are today. My friend who I knew in college is here with me as we sit in front of the fire. I'm like an old man in my wheelchair, and he's stoking the fire. Funny, you know, we both don't drink now. He has one of the most responsible jobs in the world. I don't. We both have kids. Things change. Now I look at him and I think of 2 words: Responsible Adult. I still think he's a party animal. He won't admit it. Anyway, he reminds me of an image I have. The man in the suit. I'll tell this one more story.

The man in the suit. I was windsurfing one fine day. I was on long Island Sound. Out in the middle of nowhere. It was your typical fall day. Strong currents leaving the bay. Big rolling waves coming in. It was a really good day. Anyway, I was playing in the waves windsurfing and I need a little break, so I went to the beach, turned my board over. Laid under my Mylar sail. It's kind of like being in a greenhouse. You're shielded from the wind and the sun keeps you warm as you lay there. Anyway, I was resting, taking a little break when out of the blue I hear, Hey how's it going?. I couldn't believe it. I look up and there's a man in a full on beautiful fitted suit. The guy was on a dirt bike. I was in the middle of nowhere and so was he. It was all surreal. He said, "You look like you're having fun out there." I said, "Yeah." The guy was disheveled. He had a nice suit on, but he had burrs, grass in his hair, a slight beard. But he had a big smile on his face. Actually, he was a little scary. And then all of a sudden, I heard police cars. The guy said to me with a smile, "Oops, I've got to go. Have a good day," and he took off on his dirt bike to the horizon. It was all a bit strange, but I continued to windsurf in the waves. I got back to my car when I police car pulled up. He was looking for the guy in the suit. I told the police officer what happened and the cop took off.  Anyway, that guy reminds me of my friend, the Party Animal.

I really don't have much more to report this week other than the fact that I go through peaks and valleys. I know it's normal when you're like this with a traumatic brain injury. You recover, but it takes time. It's frustrating, but as long as you stay positive, and make small goals, you'll get there. You'll get better. Anyway, I'll talk to you guys next week. Love, B. Nice

P.S. Here is a picture of my family about the time we set off on our world adventure (see Chapter 72).

Chapter 73 - October 23, 2012

Happy birthday Henry! I'd like to dedicate this week's blog to my cousin. He was an awesome coach during my operations. When you have traumatic brain injury and you go through an operation, you really need a coach, someone to get you through the tough times.  I don't remember much about being in the hospital during my operations. I do remember I almost died and my cousin jumping up on my chest. He basically kept me from slipping away. He also "borrowed" a janitor's uniform to sneak into my room after hours. He and his wife were there all the time, by my side. He was a great coach. No, it's true, he's a real coach. He coaches soccer. The last soccer coach I saw was when I was in high school. I was a freshman. After we played a scrimmage, he said, "Nice, come over here." He called me over. He said, "Brian, I've been coaching for about 25 years, and you are by far the worst soccer player I've ever seen, but you can run like the wind, so go see that guy over there," and he pointed to the cross country coach. That was one moment that was to change my life.

Hi everybody. Welcome to another beautiful week in paradise. Well, I just would like to benchmark where I am and what's been going on. I have to practice what I preach. Man, I gotta be patient. Having this traumatic brain injury is tough. Recovery is tough. Like I said before, I seem to be more aware of my surroundings and my body. It's slow, but I'm getting better. My eyesight is getting better. And my feeling is getting better. Just the other day I rolled over onto my stomach, and I tried to do a cobra pose, it's a yoga pose, and it stretches out my back. I did it. It felt weird because I haven't been on my stomach for like two years, but I did it. Scared the hell out of me, so I rolled back onto my back. I try to do this every day after my midday nap. My mother always looks at me with calm as I try to do my cobra, really freaking out inside. It's weird. Not much else to really talk about other than the fact that I do painting with my father. I think I get more paint on me than the canvas, but it's good exercise. It's great to see the progression from two years ago to now. I've been doing almost every day the painting. (My friend was reading back to me what I wrote and she's right, I sounded like an Italian man. My writing, she is a not so great.) I've been doing the painting almost every day. I do a heart for my daughter, and then I do a star, and then I do a circle.

The other day my friend came over with his wife. They took me out to lunch. It made me realize how messed up I am. I felt a bit strange cause he basically had to feed me my lunch. I felt like a baby sparrow. But it did feel good to get out of the house. I would highly advise little day trips like this. Anyway, enough about traumatic brain injury. You know I do this blog because it might help someone. I know it helps one person at least, me! ha! It helps me to write this stuff down. I like to go back and see where I was, like a year ago. Now I'm gonna tell just a few stories from the past. As I said before, I spent a little time on my back thinking about the past.

I think I mentioned before, I lived in Paris. I started working right away. I guess I got lucky. Anyway, I worked with really good people. One guy was an awesome hairdresser, but like me, he was a little kid inside. Often I would book a location van and shoot on location. The van was like a mobile studio. We would sit in the bench seat. He would say, "Get a shot of this with your polaroid camera," and he would change his water spray bottle to jet-stream and he would say, "Get a shot of this over my shoulder." He would bring out his spray bottle and he'd spray the people in the face. And he'd say, "Now, take the pciture," and the results were perfect. I don't know if you've ever seen someone getting sprayed in the face, but it looks pretty funny. This is what inspired me to do my scare polaroid book. Probably the most inspiring moment out of Paris. Pretty sad huh? That reminds me of something I used to do just before I got sick. My nephew had a machine called a fart machine. Well, I kept it in my bag of tricks. I would make my assistant put it in his back pocket, and then at the most convenient time I would activate the fart machine with a remote. The results were fantastic. My favorite time we used this was out west. We were shooting at a catholic mission. There were plenty of nuns there to torture. I think my assistant really enjoyed it. I'll let you use your imagination.

I'm trying to think of other random stories to tell, but there are so many. My friend here reminded me about the saltwater crocodile. There isn't much to tell. I just arrived in my room at the hotel, put down my bag. I thought to myself, oh, I have a sun deck. I went to go to the sun deck and as I was about to open the door, I noticed there was a very large saltwater crocodile on my deck. He was sunning himself. He must have been ten feet long. He was big one. Well, I stayed inside. Had a beer, turned on the news. Crocodiles don't really freak me out. The sharks I've seen, those are the things that freak me out. They're really unpredictable. I've scuba dived with sharks, I've been chased by sharks, I've come up on sharks on my windsurfer. They're kind of like wild dogs. They're curious. They'll come up and try and give a little nibble, see what's going on. But like bees, if you leave them alone, they'll pretty much leave you alone.

Anyway, that's it for this week. I'll talk to you guys next week. Oh, yeah, I'm getting ready for another photo show. I have a few pieces to put in a local group show. It should be fun. Remember, do what you love to do. Talk to you next week. Love, B. Nice