Coda
News and Not News

Out of the Routine Endeavors and a Tumult of Repetitive Speech






In a rare occurrence, Charlie crossed state lines to go to a cookout at colleagues of Jim in Westchester County on Saturday. While his appearance in the backyard where the guests were was split-second brief, he and Jim rode for an hour and 40 minutes or so on a nearby trail, riding far enough to have gone to Connecticut.


They topped that off with a local ride at home after which an agitated Charlie made repetitive speech requests to go out for various sorts of food. After 40 minutes, the spell-like OCD mode he was in broke, he grinned, he ran into the kitchen for a snack, he went to bed and slept past noon on Sunday, making up for 2 straight nights of 3am bedtimes.


Sunday, Charlie was most pleased to be driving out to Jersey horse country to ride on the familiar bike trail. He had asked to do so on Saturday and handled the waiting till the next day really well.


Charlie kept up his good cheer while pacing to the Beatles with his iPad timer set to 90 minutes afterwards at home. I did some online business and a little writing. Jim talked spiritedly of the Bayonne to Jersey City ride they'd do.


On the way to Bayonne, on the interstate highway, Charlie called for the beach, said "this way" and tapped Jim's shoulder with great conviction. Nothing could be said to assuage Charlie's calls which crescendoed, with fervor to match, all the way to Bayonne, along with adamant calls of "no Bayonne." We talked about turning around to go home -- "no home!" We talked about riding bikes -- "no! Beach!" We talked about going on Thursday when Charlie has a holiday -- "No Thursday! Beach!"


We pulled into the park in Bayonne and sat in the car for just under 15 minutes, Charlie having given us the glassy wide-eyed state that has been known to have preceded a behavior storm of the neurological kind.


We drove slowly back towards Jersey City as he had smiled a bit and said yes to getting Vietnamese food, albeit at a different place because his favored spot is closed for renovations. I hadn't directly told Charlie that but maybe he knew -- I bet he knew -- he started beach-calling once I got back in the car with the food which he did not want.


We drove back towards home and the beach requests went on and then gently ceased and Charlie could be seen less tensed up in all his muscles. Jim mentioned getting some shrimp chow fun. Charlie said 'shrimp chow fun' and we got it and he ate it and we stopped for gas and he chuckled.


I think he's going to be awake till late after sleeping so late. But his storm had whirled and dissipated, Jim and I split the unwanted summer and spring rolls and are master-planning a trip to the beach and the Pirates have won 9 in a row!


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