My daughter's dog is a hoot! We have been dogsitting this week as Debi has seeded her lawn and is awaiting the arrival of new grass. To keep her doberman, Akkadian, from rolling around in the mud and muck, Dorothy and I took him in for the next two weeks. I have to say that this dog is a wonder. Named after an ancient culture, he has all the traits of greatness.
We often think that dogs do not understand what we say. They do. And through Pavlovian conditioning, we have taught him a number of habits good and bad. And through his own initiative, he has come up with his own.
Since this dog was a pup, he has been a character. When Debi first got him and brought him home, he chewed everything in sight and pooed everywhere, like all pups will. When he finally got his bodilly functions undercontrol, we really started having fun. He would go around the house following anyone who would pay attention to him or just look his way. This often made for some funny instances when we would plan to walk around the house, passing each other. AK would start with one person, then in mid step follow another, then another, until he finally would sit down because he was confused as to who he should follow.
We have a big pool and a nice sized yard. "DingDong" as I call him, will not go near the pool on a dead run, but does like to sneak up on the dog in the pool and bark at him. At four years of age, I am not sure if he realizes that he is barking at his own reflection! He does not like the pool, or water for bathing or sprinklers. Probably due to his incident falling into the pool when he was only about 5 months old, and I had to rescue him because he could not swim.
He does have some tricks which Dorothy (his "grandmother") says are cruel. He loves to play "Dead Dog" and "Undead Dog" but we are working on "Dead Dog" and "Zombie Dog". He also sits, lies, puts his head down, and waits, but is struggling with walk and fetch. He rarely gets out of the yard, so walk is foreign to him. He does take me for a drag around the block, though. Fetch is really foreign to him. He likes to get the toy, but won't give it up and prefers to get close and tease, then run away. He knows how to give sad eyes for part of my lunch and he puts his nose on my chair when he wants my attention. When it is time for us to leave to go somewhere, he goes outside and waits for his treat through the doggie door. But the funniest thing is when he eats off a fork and gently takes the morsel and puts it in his mouth. One night, we had the TV on and were sitting on the couch. We realized that each night, we did not watch the TV, but watched him wrestle with himself and his toys! Who needs Cable when you have a dog?
When he first arrived, Dorothy would not have anything to do with him. She did not want him. Now, she talks to him, pets him, shares breakfast with him, and even put a sleeping area in our room so he could sleep next to our bed. She hates to leave him alone at anytime and often will leave the TV on for company and if we are out at night, will turn lights on in the garage and house so he can see.
And talk about a great watchdog! Dobermans are known for keen hearing. He can hear the neighbors get into their car with windows and doors shut. He can hear and respond to the garage door opening. Open up a bag of potato chips in the pantry with door closed, and he will be there when you open the door up, be sitting, and have sad face on.
I don't have grandchildren. I have a grand dog. And that he is.
Doughnut
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
My Lot in Life
It is a beautiful, sunny day in Arizona. Really, this place could be the one stop on my journey that is eternal. I think most Shields' that have pursue Horace Greeley's advice have gone through here. Some went on up into the mountains of Oregon, others went back home to the Midwest. The Valley of the Sun, though, seems to be perfect for me and mine.
I wanted to go out west in the early 70s. I made a stop in Roswell, New Mexico at a broadcasting school there, but had to return to Illinois when my mom became sick. And there I remained for about 40 years. I got married, had kids, a career, but I never lost my hankering for the Great Southwest. When Dorothy's mother moved out here for a while, we visited on occasion. Now, it seems we were conducting scouting missions to see if it was the right place. Our missions took many years before we had the guts to make the move permanent.
But here we are. And I have, in the past, raved about the weather and the people. I wanted everyone to know what I had here, hoping to have them move out, or at least visit. But now, I take it all back.
Arizona is a vile place full of scorpions, snakes and heat. It sucks the life out of a person and leaves them to be covered up by one of the holes in the desert. There is unemployment, poverty, crime, and lawlessness. We have a sherriff who thinks that he must "clean up this town" and constantly arrests politicians and investigates those that do not agree with him. Our schools are in shambles and cannot meet federal guidelines and the homeless situation is out of control. During the summer, we boil every day and get no respite at night in this island of heat and concrete. In winter, we have shortened days and cool temps that barely reach 80 during the day and sometimes freeze our pipes at night. Those palm trees swaying in the breeze lull us into thinking we are living in Paradise as they undulate gently in rhythm of the valley.
I have made my bed. This is why I came here. I must suffer here so my readers and those in the cold frozen North can be warned against this place. They must not move here; they must not visit for their own good. Once here, the temptation will be too great to stay and soak in this din of iniquity.
It is my lot in life to warn you. Stay at home in winter in front of the fire, safe from this so-called "Valley of the Sun."
Doughnut
I wanted to go out west in the early 70s. I made a stop in Roswell, New Mexico at a broadcasting school there, but had to return to Illinois when my mom became sick. And there I remained for about 40 years. I got married, had kids, a career, but I never lost my hankering for the Great Southwest. When Dorothy's mother moved out here for a while, we visited on occasion. Now, it seems we were conducting scouting missions to see if it was the right place. Our missions took many years before we had the guts to make the move permanent.
But here we are. And I have, in the past, raved about the weather and the people. I wanted everyone to know what I had here, hoping to have them move out, or at least visit. But now, I take it all back.
Arizona is a vile place full of scorpions, snakes and heat. It sucks the life out of a person and leaves them to be covered up by one of the holes in the desert. There is unemployment, poverty, crime, and lawlessness. We have a sherriff who thinks that he must "clean up this town" and constantly arrests politicians and investigates those that do not agree with him. Our schools are in shambles and cannot meet federal guidelines and the homeless situation is out of control. During the summer, we boil every day and get no respite at night in this island of heat and concrete. In winter, we have shortened days and cool temps that barely reach 80 during the day and sometimes freeze our pipes at night. Those palm trees swaying in the breeze lull us into thinking we are living in Paradise as they undulate gently in rhythm of the valley.
I have made my bed. This is why I came here. I must suffer here so my readers and those in the cold frozen North can be warned against this place. They must not move here; they must not visit for their own good. Once here, the temptation will be too great to stay and soak in this din of iniquity.
It is my lot in life to warn you. Stay at home in winter in front of the fire, safe from this so-called "Valley of the Sun."
Doughnut
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
My Eyes Are Opened on Healthcare
I think I understand healthcare issue now. My son, James, had surgery on Monday to correct a detached retina. He has no idea how it happened, but it happened, according to the doctor, because he is severely nearsighted. The optometrist spotted the problem and referred him to an ophthalmologist. This specialist then did surgery to correct the problem. He blew a gas bubble into Jim’s eye and then told him to lie face down on my couch for a week. This is not much different than what Jim did during his teenage years, so I agreed.
Before the surgery, Jim’s blood was drawn and he was diagnosed as being a diabetic. Now he has to go to an internist to have the problem addressed. It’s hell getting old, or so I am told.
Luckily, Jim has insurance. But, if he did not, he would have been paying for this for a long time. When we returned on Tuesday to the doctor for the “post op checkup,” Jim saw another doctor (not his surgeon, who was supposedly off doing more surgery type things). We went into the waiting room which was set up in a theatre like atmosphere with the patients facing away from the reception, but towards a 50 inch LED TV which was playing “The Lake House”. Oddly enough, next to the window where patients check in is a sign that says, “Expect to be here 1-3 hours” (At least they warn you, other doctors don’t.) Jim was called back immediately because he was priority patient.
Once inside the magic door from the waiting room, we were led through a maze of hallways into another waiting room where there were more people. (It began to feel like the stages of purgatory, or a Disney waiting line.) Jim was taken into a room where an assistant checked him out, undressed the surgical eye, and did some preliminary things. After this, he was taken again around a corner, down a hall, and into…ANOTHER WAITING ROOM! Luckily, because of his “priority patient” status, he was put into an examining room. The doctor came in (at least I think he was a doctor, he did not have on the official doctor coat, nor the heart listening thingy). He looked in Jim’s eye, said, “Keep following your doctor’s orders.” And left. Jim saw the Doctor a grand total of two (2) minutes!
When Jim went to leave, he was given a copy of the bill for services had he not been insured. The grand total for the two minute visit and the ride through Doctorland, was $268.00! Or, about 134 dollars a minute. We tried doing math on the intake of this particular doctor’s office. IF he and the other doctors saw only 30 patients each that day (There were more waiting to see him and the five other doctor’s in the practice. Jim had an early appointment.) the office would have pulled in close to $48,240 that day! For the week, it would have been 241,200 and over a year period, $12,060,000, assuming that they take two weeks off for vacation. Now, I know there are overhead costs, but …
Jim has not gotten the bill for the surgery center yet. But he was in there for about 6 hours. They called in another doctor for the diabetes who may or may not be covered under his insurance, even though Jim did not ask for the consult. That bill will be interesting.
Total cost for the eye surgery? My bet is on about $20,000.
How do people that have no insurance afford health care? Those that would oppose changes and even a public option are probably those who can afford it. But, we have to ask ourselves, if the government is to “promote the general welfare” as it promises in the Preamble to the Constitution, is it not its duty to be sure all citizens can be treated?
Next time you go for a doctor’s appointment, ask what the “usual and customary” charges would be for the services provided had you not had insurance. Could you have afforded it?
Food for thought.
Doughnut
Before the surgery, Jim’s blood was drawn and he was diagnosed as being a diabetic. Now he has to go to an internist to have the problem addressed. It’s hell getting old, or so I am told.
Luckily, Jim has insurance. But, if he did not, he would have been paying for this for a long time. When we returned on Tuesday to the doctor for the “post op checkup,” Jim saw another doctor (not his surgeon, who was supposedly off doing more surgery type things). We went into the waiting room which was set up in a theatre like atmosphere with the patients facing away from the reception, but towards a 50 inch LED TV which was playing “The Lake House”. Oddly enough, next to the window where patients check in is a sign that says, “Expect to be here 1-3 hours” (At least they warn you, other doctors don’t.) Jim was called back immediately because he was priority patient.
Once inside the magic door from the waiting room, we were led through a maze of hallways into another waiting room where there were more people. (It began to feel like the stages of purgatory, or a Disney waiting line.) Jim was taken into a room where an assistant checked him out, undressed the surgical eye, and did some preliminary things. After this, he was taken again around a corner, down a hall, and into…ANOTHER WAITING ROOM! Luckily, because of his “priority patient” status, he was put into an examining room. The doctor came in (at least I think he was a doctor, he did not have on the official doctor coat, nor the heart listening thingy). He looked in Jim’s eye, said, “Keep following your doctor’s orders.” And left. Jim saw the Doctor a grand total of two (2) minutes!
When Jim went to leave, he was given a copy of the bill for services had he not been insured. The grand total for the two minute visit and the ride through Doctorland, was $268.00! Or, about 134 dollars a minute. We tried doing math on the intake of this particular doctor’s office. IF he and the other doctors saw only 30 patients each that day (There were more waiting to see him and the five other doctor’s in the practice. Jim had an early appointment.) the office would have pulled in close to $48,240 that day! For the week, it would have been 241,200 and over a year period, $12,060,000, assuming that they take two weeks off for vacation. Now, I know there are overhead costs, but …
Jim has not gotten the bill for the surgery center yet. But he was in there for about 6 hours. They called in another doctor for the diabetes who may or may not be covered under his insurance, even though Jim did not ask for the consult. That bill will be interesting.
Total cost for the eye surgery? My bet is on about $20,000.
How do people that have no insurance afford health care? Those that would oppose changes and even a public option are probably those who can afford it. But, we have to ask ourselves, if the government is to “promote the general welfare” as it promises in the Preamble to the Constitution, is it not its duty to be sure all citizens can be treated?
Next time you go for a doctor’s appointment, ask what the “usual and customary” charges would be for the services provided had you not had insurance. Could you have afforded it?
Food for thought.
Doughnut
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Travel!
I am so glad that some of my loyal followers were concerned last week when I did not write all week after Monday. I have been trying to write on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, but last week my wife and I took off and went someplace where there was no internet access---Laughlin.
You are thinking why would anyone want to have internet access when there is so much to do in the small sin city? I have become so used to checking email and doing other things daily, that it was somewhat of a bother to not have it. Also, I find it interesting that hotels charge these enormous prices for room rental in these vacation places, but supply no internet, but the hotels that charge $29.95 a night charge nothing.
The trip was relaxing, but not very profitable. After all, when one goes to a casino, one cannot really expect to win. Break even, maybe, but overall the odds are against you. Even the buffet’s are extravagant in price, and a person ends up eating their weight in one meal. I did, however, persevere there and did not eat at but one buffet, then I stuck to the vegetables and little meat. Overall, the week cost me about one pound on my diet. Not bad.
During the day, we often drove around the countryside to small towns via backroads. There are some really beautiful sights once the road less travelled is taken. Oatman, Arizona, Needles, California, and Searchlight Nevada are small towns with a great deal of character. My favorite place on the trip, though, was the small bump in the road called Nothing, Arizona. There is nothing in Nothing. There used to be something, but now there is nothing. The name enthralled me. Imagine telling people that you went to Nothing on your trip. “What did you see?” they might ask you. You could reply, “Nothing.” And you would not be lying. Nothing used to have a population, but the gas station burned down, and the people moved, now the census is…you guessed it… nothing.
How many times have you explored the countryside near where you live? I mean just gone out and decided to turn right or left on a whim and seen where that took you? My brother and his wife once took their entire vacation that way. They traveled the back roads between their house in New Salem, Illinois, all the way to the Gulf of Mexico. Quite an adventure. That, my friend, is living.
No ideas, or preconceived notions about the people or the places. Just the people and the places to heighten your senses of the humanity. See how the other half lives. Or, to paraphrase Gene Roddenberry, “Explore strange new worlds, seek out new places, boldly go where you have never gone before.”
Happy Trails.
Doughnut
p.s. As I write this, I have learned of the death of a friend, Dr. Bob Basler. Bob, who was born in the early part of the 20th Century, about the same time as my parents. He lived through Germany in WWII, serving in the Luftwaffe and then came to the US where he served his knew homeland in Korea. He was quite a fascinating character who truly wanted to help his fellow man. Bob saw many things all over the world in his 90+ years and he was on of the most learned men I have known. I lost touch him over the years, but I never forgot his sense of humor and his laugh. My condolences to Renee and Chris and Cari and the rest of the Basler family.
You are thinking why would anyone want to have internet access when there is so much to do in the small sin city? I have become so used to checking email and doing other things daily, that it was somewhat of a bother to not have it. Also, I find it interesting that hotels charge these enormous prices for room rental in these vacation places, but supply no internet, but the hotels that charge $29.95 a night charge nothing.
The trip was relaxing, but not very profitable. After all, when one goes to a casino, one cannot really expect to win. Break even, maybe, but overall the odds are against you. Even the buffet’s are extravagant in price, and a person ends up eating their weight in one meal. I did, however, persevere there and did not eat at but one buffet, then I stuck to the vegetables and little meat. Overall, the week cost me about one pound on my diet. Not bad.
During the day, we often drove around the countryside to small towns via backroads. There are some really beautiful sights once the road less travelled is taken. Oatman, Arizona, Needles, California, and Searchlight Nevada are small towns with a great deal of character. My favorite place on the trip, though, was the small bump in the road called Nothing, Arizona. There is nothing in Nothing. There used to be something, but now there is nothing. The name enthralled me. Imagine telling people that you went to Nothing on your trip. “What did you see?” they might ask you. You could reply, “Nothing.” And you would not be lying. Nothing used to have a population, but the gas station burned down, and the people moved, now the census is…you guessed it… nothing.
How many times have you explored the countryside near where you live? I mean just gone out and decided to turn right or left on a whim and seen where that took you? My brother and his wife once took their entire vacation that way. They traveled the back roads between their house in New Salem, Illinois, all the way to the Gulf of Mexico. Quite an adventure. That, my friend, is living.
No ideas, or preconceived notions about the people or the places. Just the people and the places to heighten your senses of the humanity. See how the other half lives. Or, to paraphrase Gene Roddenberry, “Explore strange new worlds, seek out new places, boldly go where you have never gone before.”
Happy Trails.
Doughnut
p.s. As I write this, I have learned of the death of a friend, Dr. Bob Basler. Bob, who was born in the early part of the 20th Century, about the same time as my parents. He lived through Germany in WWII, serving in the Luftwaffe and then came to the US where he served his knew homeland in Korea. He was quite a fascinating character who truly wanted to help his fellow man. Bob saw many things all over the world in his 90+ years and he was on of the most learned men I have known. I lost touch him over the years, but I never forgot his sense of humor and his laugh. My condolences to Renee and Chris and Cari and the rest of the Basler family.
Monday, October 12, 2009
You Think We Have An Immigration Problem?
“Columbus sailed the ocean blue, in fourteen hundred and ninety-two.”
Every kid growing up knew that little diddy. It certainly helped me get through the second grade.
And so, today, October 12, we in America celebrate this little known Italian sailor whose own king would not finance him, so he went to Queen Isabella of Spain and schmoozed her into giving him three ships which he named: The Nina, The Pinta, and the Santa Maria. And he muddled his way across the Atlantic and ran into an island, thinking he had found a way around the world. Magellan laughed at him.
All three vessels were small ocean going ships that were good for exploring, but not much else, especially crossing the ocean. Columbus probably got them at the used ship market as they were known by other names. The smallest of the ships, the Pinta, got its name from the mottled color. Pinta is a form of a disease that causes the skin to be discolored, so the ship may well have had many different colors in the wood. But, it was the fastest of the three. The original name was “Los Angeles” but the city in California did not like that such a small ship was named after it, so the crew called it the Pinta, probably after the main staple of the sailors, Pinto Beans. When the ship would get into calm waters, the cook would fix large pots of these beans, feed them to the crew, and then the crew would provide their own propulsion.
The Nina was also a small ship, but only by five feet. That is like saying that your wife is older than you are, but only by a month. You never put in the addendum, you just say, “I married an older and extremely more experienced woman.” Like her sister, the Pinta, she was originally named The Santa Clara. But the sailors on this ship had all known a woman named Clara and she was no saint, although she did take them to Paradise, and they decided that they would not call their ship after such a loose woman out of fear that the boards would not hold together across the ocean. The name Nina is a form of ANNA from the Russian word spoken in French derived from Spanish. It means, “Girl.” And these sailors all felt comfortable riding this girl for long periods of time.
The largest of the ships and Columbus’ flagship was the Santa Maria. Actually, the full name of the ship was “Santa María de la Inmaculada Concepción” but the sign painter had trouble not only fitting the entire name on the boat, but also spelling it. So, he shortened it to Santa Maria. Columbus actually rented the ship from another man who turned out to know America Vespucci, after which the continent was named. The man owed Vespucci some money, so in return, he made Columbus name his discovery after America Vespucci, so we would all remember not to borrow money from guys that made payday loans. The Santa Maria was originally called the La Gallega, but this did not work into the diddy, or any other song, so Santa Maria it was. Being the excellent sailor that he was, Columbus ran Santa Maria aground on Christmas Day in 1492. He ordered the ship dismantled and the wood used for a church in Haiti. He came back to this spot three more times, but managed to not lose a ship. He did, however, collect a myriad of shrunken heads from natives.
These three ships crossed the Atlantic amid terrible conditions. They had live livestock for food (imagine the smell), water and rum to drink (and you wonder why the wandered the ocean blue), but no toilet facilities. We probably can rightfully claim that these people polluted the waters on their way over, thereby starting the whole global warming situation.
Columbus’ arrival in the New World became an official holiday in the US in 1934, although the forethinking state of Colorado made it a state holiday in 1905. With the help of Italian lobbyists and the Knights of Columbus, FDR signed a bill making it a Federal Holiday. So now, all federal institutions are taking the day off (the slackers). Many schools do not recognize this day anymore as a holiday, but rather celebrate it in the school cafeteria with spaghetti or pizza.
So, if you are one of the hard working federal employees enjoying the day off, congratulations. If you are one of them working today, enjoy the time-and-a-half. But remember this:
Columbus did not really “discover” America, it was already here, and its Native populations are all wondering how they could have stopped the immigration.
Doughnut
Every kid growing up knew that little diddy. It certainly helped me get through the second grade.
And so, today, October 12, we in America celebrate this little known Italian sailor whose own king would not finance him, so he went to Queen Isabella of Spain and schmoozed her into giving him three ships which he named: The Nina, The Pinta, and the Santa Maria. And he muddled his way across the Atlantic and ran into an island, thinking he had found a way around the world. Magellan laughed at him.
All three vessels were small ocean going ships that were good for exploring, but not much else, especially crossing the ocean. Columbus probably got them at the used ship market as they were known by other names. The smallest of the ships, the Pinta, got its name from the mottled color. Pinta is a form of a disease that causes the skin to be discolored, so the ship may well have had many different colors in the wood. But, it was the fastest of the three. The original name was “Los Angeles” but the city in California did not like that such a small ship was named after it, so the crew called it the Pinta, probably after the main staple of the sailors, Pinto Beans. When the ship would get into calm waters, the cook would fix large pots of these beans, feed them to the crew, and then the crew would provide their own propulsion.
The Nina was also a small ship, but only by five feet. That is like saying that your wife is older than you are, but only by a month. You never put in the addendum, you just say, “I married an older and extremely more experienced woman.” Like her sister, the Pinta, she was originally named The Santa Clara. But the sailors on this ship had all known a woman named Clara and she was no saint, although she did take them to Paradise, and they decided that they would not call their ship after such a loose woman out of fear that the boards would not hold together across the ocean. The name Nina is a form of ANNA from the Russian word spoken in French derived from Spanish. It means, “Girl.” And these sailors all felt comfortable riding this girl for long periods of time.
The largest of the ships and Columbus’ flagship was the Santa Maria. Actually, the full name of the ship was “Santa María de la Inmaculada Concepción” but the sign painter had trouble not only fitting the entire name on the boat, but also spelling it. So, he shortened it to Santa Maria. Columbus actually rented the ship from another man who turned out to know America Vespucci, after which the continent was named. The man owed Vespucci some money, so in return, he made Columbus name his discovery after America Vespucci, so we would all remember not to borrow money from guys that made payday loans. The Santa Maria was originally called the La Gallega, but this did not work into the diddy, or any other song, so Santa Maria it was. Being the excellent sailor that he was, Columbus ran Santa Maria aground on Christmas Day in 1492. He ordered the ship dismantled and the wood used for a church in Haiti. He came back to this spot three more times, but managed to not lose a ship. He did, however, collect a myriad of shrunken heads from natives.
These three ships crossed the Atlantic amid terrible conditions. They had live livestock for food (imagine the smell), water and rum to drink (and you wonder why the wandered the ocean blue), but no toilet facilities. We probably can rightfully claim that these people polluted the waters on their way over, thereby starting the whole global warming situation.
Columbus’ arrival in the New World became an official holiday in the US in 1934, although the forethinking state of Colorado made it a state holiday in 1905. With the help of Italian lobbyists and the Knights of Columbus, FDR signed a bill making it a Federal Holiday. So now, all federal institutions are taking the day off (the slackers). Many schools do not recognize this day anymore as a holiday, but rather celebrate it in the school cafeteria with spaghetti or pizza.
So, if you are one of the hard working federal employees enjoying the day off, congratulations. If you are one of them working today, enjoy the time-and-a-half. But remember this:
Columbus did not really “discover” America, it was already here, and its Native populations are all wondering how they could have stopped the immigration.
Doughnut
Friday, October 9, 2009
Advice to the Social Network People
My Facebook account has quite a few “Friends,“ most are former students. I do have a few from my high school days, or those from college, but most of my group is from students I had while at Paxton, then PBL High School. I use the program to see what the kids are up to, how their lives are changing and how they are maturing. I really enjoy it, and keeps me up to date.
But all the picture posting has me wondering what my friends and I would have done with all this technology when we were teens. I mean, now, kids don’t seem to have any issues that are not private. They go out on the town, get drunk, their friends take their pictures, and these end up on any of the social networking pages or YOU TUBE. Nothing is sacred anymore.
Kids have no sense of pride for either themselves, or their parents. Girls don’t find it embarrassing to get their picture taken kissing other girls; nor do they blush at finding themselves in various stages of undress. They need to stop and think WWMPT (What Would My Parents Think?) Also, if they would not appear before their parents and put a double lip lock on their best girl friend, it probably should not happen for future employers to see.
Same with guys. If they would not appear falling down drunk in front of the ‘Rents, then they probably should think twice about posing for that picture of them upside down on a keg at an underage party.
We did some unusual things, I’m sure. But what we did not do, is brag about it to the ENTIRE globe! We did not immediately call someone and show them the picture phone picture of us surfing down Main Street on top of a car. The lack of technology actually saved many of us from embarrassment and allowed us to continue on to college without our parents or the school knowing what we were up to. If we took pictures, we had to go to the local drug store to send them in. This stopped us from taking those provocative pictures because we knew that Mabel at the store would call Mom and Dad and let them know the pictures were in!
My advice to people who take and post pictures from parties, or dates, or private moments is this….DON’T. Especially if you don’t want your parents and friends to know how stupid you really are. Take a step back just before you pose or snap that lens and think…WWMPT?
Doughnut
But all the picture posting has me wondering what my friends and I would have done with all this technology when we were teens. I mean, now, kids don’t seem to have any issues that are not private. They go out on the town, get drunk, their friends take their pictures, and these end up on any of the social networking pages or YOU TUBE. Nothing is sacred anymore.
Kids have no sense of pride for either themselves, or their parents. Girls don’t find it embarrassing to get their picture taken kissing other girls; nor do they blush at finding themselves in various stages of undress. They need to stop and think WWMPT (What Would My Parents Think?) Also, if they would not appear before their parents and put a double lip lock on their best girl friend, it probably should not happen for future employers to see.
Same with guys. If they would not appear falling down drunk in front of the ‘Rents, then they probably should think twice about posing for that picture of them upside down on a keg at an underage party.
We did some unusual things, I’m sure. But what we did not do, is brag about it to the ENTIRE globe! We did not immediately call someone and show them the picture phone picture of us surfing down Main Street on top of a car. The lack of technology actually saved many of us from embarrassment and allowed us to continue on to college without our parents or the school knowing what we were up to. If we took pictures, we had to go to the local drug store to send them in. This stopped us from taking those provocative pictures because we knew that Mabel at the store would call Mom and Dad and let them know the pictures were in!
My advice to people who take and post pictures from parties, or dates, or private moments is this….DON’T. Especially if you don’t want your parents and friends to know how stupid you really are. Take a step back just before you pose or snap that lens and think…WWMPT?
Doughnut
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Roll Over and Hit the Snooze
Baseball season is over for Cubs fans like myself. It really has been since the August slide, but I have hung in there with hope until they were mathematically eliminated. The Miracle Mets of 1969 came to mind, and so I thought there was some possibility. How wrong can one man be?
Good things are beginning to happen, though. This morning, around 4AM, I was awakened to a sound which I had not heard in quite some time….rain on the roof! We had a downpour which lasted for about two hours. That may not be news where you live, but here in the desert, we cherish that sound like no other. It is amazing what a little thing like rain can be taken for granted.
People out here go crazy when it rains. One would think that 30 inches of snow was about to fall. The TV stations go crazy with weather and traffic updates, there are live reports as if this phenomenon occurs once in a blue moon. And, it does.
The rain this morning was the first we have had in our part of the valley for over a month. Imagine that, 30 days without rain falling from the sky. (We get rain, and the Dakotas and parts of Wyoming get snow already.) Many people out here were running around like Chicken Little. My neighbor was out in it washing his car! Our street floods sometimes, so some kids were readying their rafts to go floating down the street BEFORE SCHOOL!
Arizona has what is named, “The Stupid Motorists Law.” No joke, that is the name of the law. It goes something like this: If you drive your car into an area that is marked, “Do no enter when flooded” and you get caught and the police and fire departments have to rescue you, then you pay the bill for those services work, AND you get a big fine.
Imagine, my friends back in the Midwest, if the stupid motorists law applied to you during a snow storm. It certainly would cut down on people needing to be pulled out of snowdrifts on the Interstate, wouldn’t it? You pay for the tow, and you get a fine for being out when you were told travel was hazardous. “Boss, sorry, I can’t come in today. The risk of being caught in the storm is too great.”
A little advice, if you please. When trying to decide what the weather is going to be like in the Midwest during the winter, watch the Southwest. Our rain patterns eventually cross over into Colorado, Northern Texas and Oklahoma, then make a beeline for the Midwest. Where we have rain, you will soon have snow once the temperatures drop. And, according to the Almanac, we are in for the wettest winter. I guess you can see what that means for you.
On those cold, snowy mornings, you can do what I did today; roll over and hit the snooze.
Doughnut
Good things are beginning to happen, though. This morning, around 4AM, I was awakened to a sound which I had not heard in quite some time….rain on the roof! We had a downpour which lasted for about two hours. That may not be news where you live, but here in the desert, we cherish that sound like no other. It is amazing what a little thing like rain can be taken for granted.
People out here go crazy when it rains. One would think that 30 inches of snow was about to fall. The TV stations go crazy with weather and traffic updates, there are live reports as if this phenomenon occurs once in a blue moon. And, it does.
The rain this morning was the first we have had in our part of the valley for over a month. Imagine that, 30 days without rain falling from the sky. (We get rain, and the Dakotas and parts of Wyoming get snow already.) Many people out here were running around like Chicken Little. My neighbor was out in it washing his car! Our street floods sometimes, so some kids were readying their rafts to go floating down the street BEFORE SCHOOL!
Arizona has what is named, “The Stupid Motorists Law.” No joke, that is the name of the law. It goes something like this: If you drive your car into an area that is marked, “Do no enter when flooded” and you get caught and the police and fire departments have to rescue you, then you pay the bill for those services work, AND you get a big fine.
Imagine, my friends back in the Midwest, if the stupid motorists law applied to you during a snow storm. It certainly would cut down on people needing to be pulled out of snowdrifts on the Interstate, wouldn’t it? You pay for the tow, and you get a fine for being out when you were told travel was hazardous. “Boss, sorry, I can’t come in today. The risk of being caught in the storm is too great.”
A little advice, if you please. When trying to decide what the weather is going to be like in the Midwest during the winter, watch the Southwest. Our rain patterns eventually cross over into Colorado, Northern Texas and Oklahoma, then make a beeline for the Midwest. Where we have rain, you will soon have snow once the temperatures drop. And, according to the Almanac, we are in for the wettest winter. I guess you can see what that means for you.
On those cold, snowy mornings, you can do what I did today; roll over and hit the snooze.
Doughnut
Monday, October 5, 2009
Routines?
I talked yesterday with friend in Illinois who is still in the rat race of education. He was telling me how full his schedule was this past week with homecoming and everything. When he asked me how I was doing, I replied, “Oh, nothing new out here. My schedule is not as full as yours is.”
After we finished and I folded my phone (no one hangs up anymore.), I began to think about my statement. Nothing new? How about turning off the airconditioning? Losing weight? Starting a walking regimen? House work daily? The book? Oh, No! I have nothing new! It's the same old routine.
I mean, it does not stack up with the excitement of grading papers, planning and teaching lessons, filling out endless meaningless piles of paperwork, dealing with uncooperative and unappreciative students and parents and administrators who are clueless. But retirement is somewhat stressful. I mean, do I use a nine iron or a wedge? That alone stresses me considerably because I don’t hit either very well. Do I eat lunch at Subway or McDonald’s? Both offer senior discounts and apparently I pass for someone over 60.
Then there is the endless housework. I have a new appreciation for women that are stay at home mom’s or even for those that work and keep a good house. I try to get the dishes done early in the day, then do floors, make beds and clean toilets. On non-golfing days, this is done by 9AM, on golfing days, it goes by the wayside. I do windows once a month and the yard weekly. How the idea of the woman sitting around all day eating bonbons got started, I will never know. I mean, this is hectic, hard work. I never have time to bake a peach pie or whip up a batch of cookies, let alone sit and watch Oprah or Dr. Phil!
My walking regimen is just getting started. By the time the housework is done, I put on my Nikes, plug in my IPod and go for a twenty minute walk through the neighborhood. All the other mothers and retirees are beginning to look for me, and we exchange greetings. I just do not have the time to stop and gossip; although I am sure I will someday.
The creative non-fiction book about my youth is stumbling. I had hoped to get it done by the end of September, but that went by. Now, I am hoping to get it finished by Christmas. Hopefully, it will be out by late next spring. I was having trouble deciding which stories to include, because there are so many stories of my youth, and the old memory is fading as I get older. That is why it is partly fiction! I can use basic events, and then enhance them. It is strange that as I reread the story, there are no villains. No villains, you ask? Nope, you’ll just have to buy it to see if you are in it!
So, the day is off to a good start. And, since it is Monday, I am off to the golf course to see how many balls I can lose. I hope your routine is well established. And remember the line from the old TV show, “Hill Street Blues” “Do it to them, before they do it to you.”
Doughnut
After we finished and I folded my phone (no one hangs up anymore.), I began to think about my statement. Nothing new? How about turning off the airconditioning? Losing weight? Starting a walking regimen? House work daily? The book? Oh, No! I have nothing new! It's the same old routine.
I mean, it does not stack up with the excitement of grading papers, planning and teaching lessons, filling out endless meaningless piles of paperwork, dealing with uncooperative and unappreciative students and parents and administrators who are clueless. But retirement is somewhat stressful. I mean, do I use a nine iron or a wedge? That alone stresses me considerably because I don’t hit either very well. Do I eat lunch at Subway or McDonald’s? Both offer senior discounts and apparently I pass for someone over 60.
Then there is the endless housework. I have a new appreciation for women that are stay at home mom’s or even for those that work and keep a good house. I try to get the dishes done early in the day, then do floors, make beds and clean toilets. On non-golfing days, this is done by 9AM, on golfing days, it goes by the wayside. I do windows once a month and the yard weekly. How the idea of the woman sitting around all day eating bonbons got started, I will never know. I mean, this is hectic, hard work. I never have time to bake a peach pie or whip up a batch of cookies, let alone sit and watch Oprah or Dr. Phil!
My walking regimen is just getting started. By the time the housework is done, I put on my Nikes, plug in my IPod and go for a twenty minute walk through the neighborhood. All the other mothers and retirees are beginning to look for me, and we exchange greetings. I just do not have the time to stop and gossip; although I am sure I will someday.
The creative non-fiction book about my youth is stumbling. I had hoped to get it done by the end of September, but that went by. Now, I am hoping to get it finished by Christmas. Hopefully, it will be out by late next spring. I was having trouble deciding which stories to include, because there are so many stories of my youth, and the old memory is fading as I get older. That is why it is partly fiction! I can use basic events, and then enhance them. It is strange that as I reread the story, there are no villains. No villains, you ask? Nope, you’ll just have to buy it to see if you are in it!
So, the day is off to a good start. And, since it is Monday, I am off to the golf course to see how many balls I can lose. I hope your routine is well established. And remember the line from the old TV show, “Hill Street Blues” “Do it to them, before they do it to you.”
Doughnut
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Music Lives
This is not a Michael Jackson memoir, nor is it a remembrance of any particular group. But it is a statement about memories.
I am at the age where I can say, “Back in my day…” or “Back in THE day…” I can really talk out of experience about having to walk to school through snow in the coldest of winters, or not having air conditioning in the summer. Heck I could even talk with pride about not having a dial telephone, a computer, a TV, or even flush toilets!
My generation (baby boomers) had some real musicians in it: Sinatra, Martin, Cole, Armstrong, Ross, and even Barry Manilow to name just a few. We actually listened to the music these people made, had no trouble understanding the lyrics, and even can recall most of the tunes even now. These people made music.
When Chuck Berry, the Big Bopper, Little Richard, Elvis, and the Beatles came on the scene, we had no trouble being inspired by them. The radio waves filled the air with the sound of harmonies and well thought out songs which had an impact on society and awakened people to the problems it faced. They also spurred our hearts to fall in love.
We had sock-hops at lunch time during junior high. All the kids raced back to gym, threw off our shoes and we went out on the gym floor and mingled and danced until it was time to go back to class. Couples had “their song,” usually a slow song where they would hold each other close and shuffle around the gym in the full view of everyone else because the lights in the gym were on. Many a relationship was born at those sockhops, and many egos were bruised by rejection.
In high school, we had weekly dances out at the pavilion in McFerren Park. The Shades of Blue, Shadows of Night, the One-Eyed Jacks, and a new band from Champaign called REO Speedwagon played regularly for us. The sound became big, but the songs were memorable and still allowed us to sing along with melodies that moved us. All we needed was a beat to “free our soul.” The music spoke to us about war, our lives, loves, hopes and, in some cases, our failures. Badfinger, Hall and Oates, Steely Dan, Led Zepplin, Jimi Hendrix, The Doors, Credence Clearwater Revival, and other groups were musicians who raised our social consciousness
When I listen to today’s music, I have a little difficulty. For one thing, I cannot understand most of the lyrics. New songs do not speak to me. When I ask youngsters to explain the song to me and what it means, they have difficulty enumerating the theme and idea of the music. I get rap…I don’t understand most of it, but I get it. Pop songs are the ones that floor me. Maybe I don’t listen well, but is seems like there is more screaming than singing. Where is the rise and fall of emotion we heard from Bing, or Natalie Cole and her father? Where is the build, the crescendo?
Will kids remember the song they were listening to when the planes crashed into the towers, like I remember the song on the radio when President Kennedy’s death was announced? (Dominique by the Singing Nun). For them, what will be the “Day the Music Died?”
Crosby, Still, Nash and Young recorded a song called “Teach your children” that pretty much tells us that we must pass things on. Our love for music, the world, and each other. We will reap what we sow. I put a link at the end, so you can go to it and read the lyrics.
Have a great day, and remember, your yesterday can help determine your offspring’s tomorrow. Sing a little each day. Teach your children, well.
Doughnut
http://www.stlyrics.com/songs/c/crosbystillsnashyoung6061/teachyourchildren237794.html
I am at the age where I can say, “Back in my day…” or “Back in THE day…” I can really talk out of experience about having to walk to school through snow in the coldest of winters, or not having air conditioning in the summer. Heck I could even talk with pride about not having a dial telephone, a computer, a TV, or even flush toilets!
My generation (baby boomers) had some real musicians in it: Sinatra, Martin, Cole, Armstrong, Ross, and even Barry Manilow to name just a few. We actually listened to the music these people made, had no trouble understanding the lyrics, and even can recall most of the tunes even now. These people made music.
When Chuck Berry, the Big Bopper, Little Richard, Elvis, and the Beatles came on the scene, we had no trouble being inspired by them. The radio waves filled the air with the sound of harmonies and well thought out songs which had an impact on society and awakened people to the problems it faced. They also spurred our hearts to fall in love.
We had sock-hops at lunch time during junior high. All the kids raced back to gym, threw off our shoes and we went out on the gym floor and mingled and danced until it was time to go back to class. Couples had “their song,” usually a slow song where they would hold each other close and shuffle around the gym in the full view of everyone else because the lights in the gym were on. Many a relationship was born at those sockhops, and many egos were bruised by rejection.
In high school, we had weekly dances out at the pavilion in McFerren Park. The Shades of Blue, Shadows of Night, the One-Eyed Jacks, and a new band from Champaign called REO Speedwagon played regularly for us. The sound became big, but the songs were memorable and still allowed us to sing along with melodies that moved us. All we needed was a beat to “free our soul.” The music spoke to us about war, our lives, loves, hopes and, in some cases, our failures. Badfinger, Hall and Oates, Steely Dan, Led Zepplin, Jimi Hendrix, The Doors, Credence Clearwater Revival, and other groups were musicians who raised our social consciousness
When I listen to today’s music, I have a little difficulty. For one thing, I cannot understand most of the lyrics. New songs do not speak to me. When I ask youngsters to explain the song to me and what it means, they have difficulty enumerating the theme and idea of the music. I get rap…I don’t understand most of it, but I get it. Pop songs are the ones that floor me. Maybe I don’t listen well, but is seems like there is more screaming than singing. Where is the rise and fall of emotion we heard from Bing, or Natalie Cole and her father? Where is the build, the crescendo?
Will kids remember the song they were listening to when the planes crashed into the towers, like I remember the song on the radio when President Kennedy’s death was announced? (Dominique by the Singing Nun). For them, what will be the “Day the Music Died?”
Crosby, Still, Nash and Young recorded a song called “Teach your children” that pretty much tells us that we must pass things on. Our love for music, the world, and each other. We will reap what we sow. I put a link at the end, so you can go to it and read the lyrics.
Have a great day, and remember, your yesterday can help determine your offspring’s tomorrow. Sing a little each day. Teach your children, well.
Doughnut
http://www.stlyrics.com/songs/c/crosbystillsnashyoung6061/teachyourchildren237794.html
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