A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Hospital

I have to tell you these stories so I can tell you another.
Story Number One
In 1978, my fiancée was pregnant. But the baby wasn’t mine. She lived with my parents for her last trimester. I was 353 miles away serving in the Air Force. Although not married, my chain of command understood my situation and had granted me “Daddy Leave”. As soon as labor started I was to be placed on Leave status and well…..leave.

When labor did start, my Mom took her time. It was about four in the morning and Dad had to wake up and have breakfast. So she baked muffins. By the time they got to the hospital the baby was crowning and the doctor was M.I.A. The baby girl was born with a nurse attending amid much screaming and tearing.
I got the word at 0900 hours and fled the flight line. As I ran through the hangar, friends knew what was happening and cheered me on. I went to my dorm room grabbed half my clothes from the closet and threw them in my trunk. Hangars and all. I got to the hospital in two hour and twenty minutes.
You do the math.
Story Number Two
At 7am I got the call that if I wanted to be in on it I’d better get my ass to the hospital. I was there in a flash and we were back to timing contractions. Then the doctors, two of them began to be concerned. The baby seemed to be too small for a full term delivery.   Around 10am, it was decided to move her to Loma Linda University. I couldn’t ride with her in the ambulance.
As she zoomed off, I had to pull cash out of the bank (no ATM’s back then) and gas up the car. It was 48.2 miles to Loma Linda and they had a 20 minute head start by the time I got on the freeway.
When I got there, I ran into the ER. Two crusty R.N’s were behind the counter.
“WHERE IS MY WIFE???” I yelled.
“What is wrong with her?” asked Nurse Number One.
“SHE”S HAVING A BABY!! I blurted out, panting as I tried to catch my breath.
“Is she in your car?” asked Nurse Number Two.

“Was she in the house when you left?”–Nurse Number Two.


“When was the last time you saw her?””—Nurse Number One.

“In the ambulance. She’s in an Air Force Ambulance”.

At this point the ambulance pulled up.

“THAT ONE!!!!”

After that it was smooth sailing. He was born happy and healthy.


The Big Story
The little baby in Story Number Two and his wife, Abby have been trying to have a baby for ten years. For almost all of that time they had no health insurance. She endured test after expensive, heart wrenching test. Years went by. All her friends joined the Mommy Sorority and Abby sat on the sidelines, a maternal wall flower.
They needed health insurance and my baby boy decided to stop handing out ketchup for a living and crushed a R.N. degree in two years. Behold! Health insurance! While discussing her latest tests, I asked if my baby boy had been tested. You know it takes two. She said she didn’t want to put that pressure on him. I told she had 15 minutes to tell him to get tested or I’d pull the Dad Card and tell him myself.
She told him and got tested. The results were devastating. You see, the Air Force had us living in Germany when Chernobyl melted down and the radioactive cloud drifted over Germany. The Germans called it “The Festival of the Glowing Cow”. This event had apparently killed his swimmers.
Overwhelming depression cast itself over them. After a year of soul searching they made the decision to adopt. Thus began an endless series of fund raising and garage sales to raise the funds to adopt. Their incredible friends rallied and sold everything from cupcakes to car parts. As the process continued for what seemed to be forever they kept things under wraps lest the hopes of family and friends be dashed.
Then I got a text.
“The Baby is coming.”
When I got the text, I called immediately. Abby answered the phone. I asked her what was happening and she said the hospital was far, far away and they were on the freeway.
Apparently, chasing babies down the freeway at 100 miles an hour is a family tradition.

I’ll let Mommy tell the rest of the story.

If you are thinking about adopting, read this:
Love Should be Multiplied Not Divided

Babies Rent and Potato Salad

What do people donate money to?  Why do people donate?  Here’s my take on it.


Loyal readers of this blog know that I’ve been trying to raise money now for a couple of months. So far friends and family have kicked in. If you pay attention to the sidebar over there on the right you’ve probably noticed that my kids are trying to raise some money as well.  While I’ve been trying to make this website a moneymaking proposition because I have a burning desire to pay taxes and paying rent the kids are trying to adopt a baby.

I totally support their efforts because let’s face it I want to be a grandfather, they will make the best parents ever and some lucky kid gets two people who will love them unconditionally. If it’s a battle between me trying to pay bills and their adoption I pretty much concede that they’ve got a better reason to donate.


Now let’s talk about potato salad.  Over on abbygabs.com, Abby, daughter-in-law extraordinaire and future mom came across a guy raising money for potato salad.  Come on, potato salad? This guy has raised over 40 K in an effort to make potato salad. For a two dollar donation Zack will give you a hearty “Thank you very much”.  For a $20 donation you will receive a potato-salad themed haiku written by Zack, your name carved into a potato that will be used in the potato salad and a signed jar of mayonnaise.


1. If you’re not afraid to have your name blasted across the Internet, donate to the Lucky Puppy right now and brag about in the comment section below.  If you have already donated, brag about that too.  You have to do it because I won’t out you. You can rest assured knowing your money will go to the rent, the child support, the cell bill, food, the folks at Direct TV and the occasional pack of smokes.


2. Not feeling it? Okay, donate to the Team Chamberlain Adoption Fund.  When you do, feel free to mention the Lucky Puppy and that we talked you into it.


3. I realize that some of you might want something to show for your money so buy this shirt and I will donate to Team Chamberlain for you whatever I make off of the sale.


Click now. Click,click,click.


4. So by now you’re thinking that donations aren’t your thing and neither are babies and you’re thinking about potato salad.  Fuck that.  We have tons of stuff on Cafe Press.  Buy a shit load of stuff and Cafe Press will send us a check for you.


5. You’re still not moved into action?  Share the shit out of this post on social media you heartless bastard and someone else will do the heavy lifting.