Amazing, absolutely amazing. What is so amazing, you ask? Science is, that's what.
The week started out slowly with a colonscopy for me. No big deal, until I woke up with a Fox TV crew up my butt! I think they found out where Glen Beck and Michael Savage hang out, at least it felt like it. Dr. Savage probably should have done the procedure, although his medical credentials are not in that area. His master's degree in botany certainly explains his vegetative like remarks. And his Ph.D in epidemiology and nutrition sciences certainly qualify him to make such viral comments that sour on the stomach. Talk show host credentials? ________ But I digress....
The week ended with my brother getting rhythm. Literally. Jim had a heart problem and his heart would get out of rhythm. I told him all he needed was a little soul, that he just had to listen to more Aretha or Temptations. Maybe some Beyonce or Lil Wayne. It was the Country Music that was messing up his heart. But no, he had to go to some Doctor who claimed to be a cardiologist, but does not have his on radio talk show. This guy proposed that he be allowed to give my brother an electrical shock... kind of like you see on TV where the guys have paddles and they yell, "CLEAR" and then the paddles send out a shock, the guy jumps and sometimes the heart stops, sometimes it starts...
Anyway, this morning Jim let this doctor do his voodoo that he do so well... AND it worked. At last report, my brother was eating his breakfast comfortably. He said he feels like dancing and has this urge to watch Micheal Jackson videos. Peg, his wife, told me that since the procedure, he has kept drumming on the table. And finally, he is on beat... not off.
Great to have you back, Bro. I hear the musical "STOMP" is holding auditions in Pittsfield this week. You're a shoo in!
Doughnut
Friday, January 29, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Sock hops and Be Bops
As promised, here is the excerpt from my upcoming book, "Growing up Doughnut" This part of Chapter 15 deals with lunch time at John Greer Junior High School. Sock hops were a time when we relaxed. Things like that don't happen anymore as education has changed for the worse. Test scores are down? Because teachers are boxed in, kids are stressed to the point where they turn education off. But, in this era, kids were allowed to have some fun during the day.... I hope you like this... let me know what you think.
________________________________________________________________________________
Sock hops were essential for social structure and engineering. There were barely any students in the school who did not attend and either dance or sit in the bleachers and talk while listening to the evils of Rock and Roll. When we entered the gym, we had to go to the bleachers with our shoes on, or remove them and gain access to the gym floor for dancing. It was during this time that new alliances were formed, new loves found and lost. The lights were left on, so any dancing was done in full view of others, and could be a somewhat enlightening or embarrassing experience depending on the level of co-ordination and rhythmic ability one possessed. Girls peeled sweaters and revealed body parts that I never knew they had; and shook in places, which to this time in my life, were a mystery to me. I am certain that these sock hops contributed to my academic demise, causing me a great deal of consternation for the next few years as I discovered more of the opposite sex. The sounds of the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, the Kinks, the Monkees emanated through the air; I held girls in my arms for a fleeting moment and dreamed of things that I had no business thinking about as Johnny Rivers sang “Poor Side of Town,” and Jimmy Ruffin’s “What Becomes of the Broken Hearted” became my theme song as I strived to find that certain someone. Every girl was “the one” and I became good friends with many and “like a brother” to all. Mrs. Mitchell and her Bell Club opened up new avenues to me that had been barricaded, and as junior high progressed, and I grew comfortable in that adolescent form, it was this organization that helped me have confidence to try other organizations and discover new interests.
Doughnut
________________________________________________________________________________
Sock hops were essential for social structure and engineering. There were barely any students in the school who did not attend and either dance or sit in the bleachers and talk while listening to the evils of Rock and Roll. When we entered the gym, we had to go to the bleachers with our shoes on, or remove them and gain access to the gym floor for dancing. It was during this time that new alliances were formed, new loves found and lost. The lights were left on, so any dancing was done in full view of others, and could be a somewhat enlightening or embarrassing experience depending on the level of co-ordination and rhythmic ability one possessed. Girls peeled sweaters and revealed body parts that I never knew they had; and shook in places, which to this time in my life, were a mystery to me. I am certain that these sock hops contributed to my academic demise, causing me a great deal of consternation for the next few years as I discovered more of the opposite sex. The sounds of the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, the Kinks, the Monkees emanated through the air; I held girls in my arms for a fleeting moment and dreamed of things that I had no business thinking about as Johnny Rivers sang “Poor Side of Town,” and Jimmy Ruffin’s “What Becomes of the Broken Hearted” became my theme song as I strived to find that certain someone. Every girl was “the one” and I became good friends with many and “like a brother” to all. Mrs. Mitchell and her Bell Club opened up new avenues to me that had been barricaded, and as junior high progressed, and I grew comfortable in that adolescent form, it was this organization that helped me have confidence to try other organizations and discover new interests.
Doughnut
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Tax Season...
It started yesterday...the season everyone hates and does not like to talk about. TAX SEASON!
The season of the witch... or switch... or stitch... when all the yearly anxiety comes to a head and we find out that all our hardwork goes out the window to support the government and other entities. We work almost six months a year for these people, and they get to go on the trip to Amsterdam at our expense. I heard yesterday that 200 members of Congress, Senate and their wives went to the hot air conference on global warming. They paid over 1000 dollars EACH to fly on military airplanes to get there. Is that considered an unreasonable charge? I want to know if any of them got spa treatments while they were there, played golf, went to the theatre on our dime.
I made about 1/3 less than I did last year. Afterall, I am fully retired now and this is my job. But, guess what? I may have to PAY this year. Last year, I paid the AZ Income Tax of 439 dollars. This year, I may owe TWICE that! And that is for a state that just sold it's State House to raise money and is closing almost all its state parks! What am I getting for my dollar? A legislature that argues and fights and can't come to grips with the smallest ideas like speed cameras.
The Feds are going to get a larger chunk, too. Remember, we made 1/3 less and are going to pay more! That is true tax relief for the middle class. I may have to take out a loan to pay my tax bill. Maybe I will go to one of the companies that got a bailout.
I retired early to be able to relax. I am more stressed now than ever before. I need to go back and get a real job, I guess. But now, I am over-qualified for most positions. And no one in broadcasting will speak to me out here. Welcome to the big city.
I know, I promised an excerpt from my book today...but I got fired up. Look for it tomorrow.
Doughnut
The season of the witch... or switch... or stitch... when all the yearly anxiety comes to a head and we find out that all our hardwork goes out the window to support the government and other entities. We work almost six months a year for these people, and they get to go on the trip to Amsterdam at our expense. I heard yesterday that 200 members of Congress, Senate and their wives went to the hot air conference on global warming. They paid over 1000 dollars EACH to fly on military airplanes to get there. Is that considered an unreasonable charge? I want to know if any of them got spa treatments while they were there, played golf, went to the theatre on our dime.
I made about 1/3 less than I did last year. Afterall, I am fully retired now and this is my job. But, guess what? I may have to PAY this year. Last year, I paid the AZ Income Tax of 439 dollars. This year, I may owe TWICE that! And that is for a state that just sold it's State House to raise money and is closing almost all its state parks! What am I getting for my dollar? A legislature that argues and fights and can't come to grips with the smallest ideas like speed cameras.
The Feds are going to get a larger chunk, too. Remember, we made 1/3 less and are going to pay more! That is true tax relief for the middle class. I may have to take out a loan to pay my tax bill. Maybe I will go to one of the companies that got a bailout.
I retired early to be able to relax. I am more stressed now than ever before. I need to go back and get a real job, I guess. But now, I am over-qualified for most positions. And no one in broadcasting will speak to me out here. Welcome to the big city.
I know, I promised an excerpt from my book today...but I got fired up. Look for it tomorrow.
Doughnut
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Not so full of it anymore
Sometimes, well most times, the weather is the first thing I comment on. It is the first thing that comes to mind that is PC and everyone can identify with. Now comes a new meaning of PC...Post Colonscopy... Things are definitely different after having a full colon cleanse. I actually feel better. Maybe I am not so full of crap anymore...Yeah, Right.
I have really found that I feel a bit better since the procedure. I do have to say it was a little disconcerting to wake up and find them still on my insides, though. I was watching something out of Fantastic Voyage (the movie where people are shrunk and take a trip inside the human body.) Although the pressure that I felt because of the air that was blown up my butt was great, the pictures were out of this world...or rather, inside mine...
It reminded me of the time I had my wrist operated on and was awake. I felt this great pressure on my arm, looked up, and there was the surgeon kneeling on my arm to hold it down! He was using a Craftsman Skilltwist to tighten the screws! "Wanna watch?" He said. "Sure" I answered, and he pulled back the drape and I watched on the screen as he adjusted the gap in the hand. Another time, I got to view the video of my knee surgery. Everyone should have and take the opportunity to see what they have inside.
I think this especially applies to politicians and other leaders. They need to see that they are human and not above the rest of us. They need to be told, "...take your clothes off and lie on the table." They need live how it is to put yourself totally in the hands of someone else and trust them with your life and welfare. As a male, lying there totally naked in front of women that I had no knowledge of and trusting them to violate me carefully to see what was inside, and then waking up and not being able to leave until I pass gas was certainly self debasing. I have had former students who have become nurses catheterize me, and that is certainly uncomfortable!
If we want to go forward, then we have to trust. I certainly questioned my doctors before the procedure; I researched and read about what was going to happen. I trusted my medical team, and most of all I prayed that they were guided by a greater hand.
After 22 surgeries and many different procedures, I know that I am being watch over.
Tomorrow, an excerpt from the upcoming novel, "Growing up Doughnut."
Doughnut
I have really found that I feel a bit better since the procedure. I do have to say it was a little disconcerting to wake up and find them still on my insides, though. I was watching something out of Fantastic Voyage (the movie where people are shrunk and take a trip inside the human body.) Although the pressure that I felt because of the air that was blown up my butt was great, the pictures were out of this world...or rather, inside mine...
It reminded me of the time I had my wrist operated on and was awake. I felt this great pressure on my arm, looked up, and there was the surgeon kneeling on my arm to hold it down! He was using a Craftsman Skilltwist to tighten the screws! "Wanna watch?" He said. "Sure" I answered, and he pulled back the drape and I watched on the screen as he adjusted the gap in the hand. Another time, I got to view the video of my knee surgery. Everyone should have and take the opportunity to see what they have inside.
I think this especially applies to politicians and other leaders. They need to see that they are human and not above the rest of us. They need to be told, "...take your clothes off and lie on the table." They need live how it is to put yourself totally in the hands of someone else and trust them with your life and welfare. As a male, lying there totally naked in front of women that I had no knowledge of and trusting them to violate me carefully to see what was inside, and then waking up and not being able to leave until I pass gas was certainly self debasing. I have had former students who have become nurses catheterize me, and that is certainly uncomfortable!
If we want to go forward, then we have to trust. I certainly questioned my doctors before the procedure; I researched and read about what was going to happen. I trusted my medical team, and most of all I prayed that they were guided by a greater hand.
After 22 surgeries and many different procedures, I know that I am being watch over.
Tomorrow, an excerpt from the upcoming novel, "Growing up Doughnut."
Doughnut
Monday, January 25, 2010
Forced Day Off---New found Treasure
My thanks go out to all of you who check in me regularly. Today will be very short.
I am having a colonoscopy today and an endoscopy. Basically, the docs are looking down my throat and up my bum. Hopefully they will use different instruments, or at least do my throat first.
Today could be one huge pain in the.... but it is not as bad, I understand, as the prep for it. For more information, you can Google colonoscopy yourself.
More tomorrow. Thanks for understanding.
_____________
Addendum.....
Things went well today. The only thing they found was a small car that I swallowed when I was three. (I think I will take it to Barrett Jackson and sell it at auction. It has to be an antique!) I did wake up at the end of the procedure and watched the final few minutes. There was a lot of pressure, but the panoramic view of my insides was awesome! After some sleep and a small meal, I am feeling well and ready to get back to work. The doc did take some blood and is doing tests to find out why I have developed anemia. But, 0nce they get the results, then we can move forward.
Thanks to all for the phone calls, they were greatly appreciated.
Doughnut
I am having a colonoscopy today and an endoscopy. Basically, the docs are looking down my throat and up my bum. Hopefully they will use different instruments, or at least do my throat first.
Today could be one huge pain in the.... but it is not as bad, I understand, as the prep for it. For more information, you can Google colonoscopy yourself.
More tomorrow. Thanks for understanding.
_____________
Addendum.....
Things went well today. The only thing they found was a small car that I swallowed when I was three. (I think I will take it to Barrett Jackson and sell it at auction. It has to be an antique!) I did wake up at the end of the procedure and watched the final few minutes. There was a lot of pressure, but the panoramic view of my insides was awesome! After some sleep and a small meal, I am feeling well and ready to get back to work. The doc did take some blood and is doing tests to find out why I have developed anemia. But, 0nce they get the results, then we can move forward.
Thanks to all for the phone calls, they were greatly appreciated.
Doughnut
Friday, January 22, 2010
We're Not in Illinois Anymore, Dorothy!
Survived last night, although it was frought with trepidation and anticipation.
For three days the intrepid weather forecasters of the news stations out here in the Great Southwest warned of an impending storm of Terminator proportions was moving through California and into our state. Usually all the forecasters have to do is say, "Sunny today, with a high of ___________" But they earned their money this week as they kept track of everything from blizzards in the North High Country, and the Southeast Mountain Ranges to heavy rains and flooding here in the Valley. This normally desert weather pattern received four inches of rain, and rivers that never flow, like the Agua Fria and the New River, were filled and flowing. The normal tranquil Tempe Town Lake had to open its dam and let water flow... Roads that are built over washes like Mckellips Road will be closed, possibly until spring.
When we heard the alarms go off for severe weather on TV, we wondered what was going on. Just like the Midwest, they let us know that the unusual Tornadic activity could happen. Contrary to the midwest where when conditions become ripe for tornadoes a watch is issued, here they issued a warning. Good thing they did for the people of Scottsdale. Folks at the Russo/Steele car auction had some tents blow down and hundreds of thousands dollars worth of collectible cars were damaged. Dorothy and I just went to an interior room and read. (She read, I watched TV, something you should never do during a storm.)
My good friend Colin Flaherty called to let me know we were having a storm. ( like I did not know that) and that he, too, was hunkered down in his underwear in his house while an ice storm raged outside. I reminded him that most of my day is spent like that... in my underwear. (Too much sharing?)
Anyway, all is well out here. Only nine days til pitchers and catchers report. The rest report a couple days later.
Oh, Yeah.... My beloved Cubs are still coming to AZ for Spring Training. Mesa will probably build an 84 million dollar facility for them, and the team will stay for 25 more years.
Hope springs eternal.
Doughnut
For three days the intrepid weather forecasters of the news stations out here in the Great Southwest warned of an impending storm of Terminator proportions was moving through California and into our state. Usually all the forecasters have to do is say, "Sunny today, with a high of ___________" But they earned their money this week as they kept track of everything from blizzards in the North High Country, and the Southeast Mountain Ranges to heavy rains and flooding here in the Valley. This normally desert weather pattern received four inches of rain, and rivers that never flow, like the Agua Fria and the New River, were filled and flowing. The normal tranquil Tempe Town Lake had to open its dam and let water flow... Roads that are built over washes like Mckellips Road will be closed, possibly until spring.
When we heard the alarms go off for severe weather on TV, we wondered what was going on. Just like the Midwest, they let us know that the unusual Tornadic activity could happen. Contrary to the midwest where when conditions become ripe for tornadoes a watch is issued, here they issued a warning. Good thing they did for the people of Scottsdale. Folks at the Russo/Steele car auction had some tents blow down and hundreds of thousands dollars worth of collectible cars were damaged. Dorothy and I just went to an interior room and read. (She read, I watched TV, something you should never do during a storm.)
My good friend Colin Flaherty called to let me know we were having a storm. ( like I did not know that) and that he, too, was hunkered down in his underwear in his house while an ice storm raged outside. I reminded him that most of my day is spent like that... in my underwear. (Too much sharing?)
Anyway, all is well out here. Only nine days til pitchers and catchers report. The rest report a couple days later.
Oh, Yeah.... My beloved Cubs are still coming to AZ for Spring Training. Mesa will probably build an 84 million dollar facility for them, and the team will stay for 25 more years.
Hope springs eternal.
Doughnut
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Kids Need the Captain.
AAAHHHHH, it's good to be home. Don't get the wrong idea, here. I am still in Phoenix my home, but with the weather up north and here, it feels like Central Illinois. Flagstaff is getting hammered with 4-6 feet of snow today; interstates 17 and 40 are closed into and out of the city. Other northern areas are also deep in the white stuff. Here in the Valley, we are getting around 4 inches of rain coupled with high winds. There is some flooding. My pool will be overflowing by mid afternoon. Unpredictable weather is awesome!
Unpredictability in anything makes life fun.
Take for instance last week's game between the Cardinals and the Saints. It started off well for the Cards, but soon the game diminished into a fiasco. The viewership plunged at halftime. In contrast, the game before against the Packers which ended in an overtime thriller was one of the highest rated games ever. People want to see and to feel unpredictability in their lives.
Teenagers often tell us that they are "bored" that there "is nothing to do". Are they full of bunk or what? Lethargy is their problem. They have to have someone else stimulate them. As parents, we have taken the unpredictability out of their lives. We seem to think we have to plan their day for them because they are incapable of doing it. Whatever happened to getting the guys together for a basketball game in the backyard? Going for a bike ride? "Back in the day" we would leave in the morning and report back in when the street lights came on.
Some will tell you that the times are different; that innocence is gone. Who is to blame?
Barney....
Yes, Barney,that innocent dinosaur who lets us know, "I love you, you love me..." it has to be his fault. Personally, I blame CBS for taking off Captain Kangaroo. Sure, Bob Keeshan is dead, but why not get someone else to fill in? The Captain is like Santa, an idea, a figure of better things to come. He represented innocence and kindness (even if he was high sometimes). We grew up with him and Bunny Rabbit, and Mr. Greenjeans, Mr. Moose, and Dancing Bear. And we were never threatened, never felt the need to go destroy something. Now, however, CBS feels that an Early Show that is live and has visions of death and destruction is the way to start the day. Kids programming, true kids programming, is dead.
Captain Kangaroo warned Congress and the networks that once programming like his show was relegated to early Saturday Mornings, lives would change.
He was right.
Doughnut
Unpredictability in anything makes life fun.
Take for instance last week's game between the Cardinals and the Saints. It started off well for the Cards, but soon the game diminished into a fiasco. The viewership plunged at halftime. In contrast, the game before against the Packers which ended in an overtime thriller was one of the highest rated games ever. People want to see and to feel unpredictability in their lives.
Teenagers often tell us that they are "bored" that there "is nothing to do". Are they full of bunk or what? Lethargy is their problem. They have to have someone else stimulate them. As parents, we have taken the unpredictability out of their lives. We seem to think we have to plan their day for them because they are incapable of doing it. Whatever happened to getting the guys together for a basketball game in the backyard? Going for a bike ride? "Back in the day" we would leave in the morning and report back in when the street lights came on.
Some will tell you that the times are different; that innocence is gone. Who is to blame?
Barney....
Yes, Barney,that innocent dinosaur who lets us know, "I love you, you love me..." it has to be his fault. Personally, I blame CBS for taking off Captain Kangaroo. Sure, Bob Keeshan is dead, but why not get someone else to fill in? The Captain is like Santa, an idea, a figure of better things to come. He represented innocence and kindness (even if he was high sometimes). We grew up with him and Bunny Rabbit, and Mr. Greenjeans, Mr. Moose, and Dancing Bear. And we were never threatened, never felt the need to go destroy something. Now, however, CBS feels that an Early Show that is live and has visions of death and destruction is the way to start the day. Kids programming, true kids programming, is dead.
Captain Kangaroo warned Congress and the networks that once programming like his show was relegated to early Saturday Mornings, lives would change.
He was right.
Doughnut
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Rain, Rain....
As I sit at my desk forming an opinion for the day, I notice that for the first time in two days we are having sunshine. Not an unusual occurance you say? Well, my friend, you are right under the usual circumstances. But these are unusual times...
The past two days we have had rain! I don't mean a mere spakling, I mean gully washers! We have had more rain the past two days than we did in all of September through December. It rained so much, my pool was filled to the brim and I have to turn on the drain and partially empty it. Why? We are expecting more rain tomorrow. Another 5-6 inches! I am glad I don't live in Flaggstaff, where the residents are bracing for 4-6 FEET of snow! Did I suddenly get zapped back to Illinois?
Really, though, it is a refreshing change. Finally weather forecasters get to do something out here and the drains in the street get cleaned. The sound of rain on the roof is one that I had forgotten about. Thursday, I will sit out on my patio, watch it rain. Hey! It beats watching paint dry! If it comes down hard enough, I will go out front, open the garage door, and settle in for the boat races down the gutter.
When we get mega rain out here, people go crazy. Driving in the rain is something they never do, so getting places becomes an adventure. When the gutters are full and flowing, people actually get canoes and kayaks, and go down the curb line in them. (I wonder if there are blow up dolls that they can put out celebrating the rain, like they do on every other occasion?)
The only solace I take from this rain is that I live in a desert climate, and, hopefully, this will spur some growth of the wild flowers to pretty-up the desert floor. One thing is for certain, though, this morning the air over the downtown area will be clear and not brown or green.
Doughnut
PS..Watch for another exerpt of "Growing up Doughnut" on this website soon!
The past two days we have had rain! I don't mean a mere spakling, I mean gully washers! We have had more rain the past two days than we did in all of September through December. It rained so much, my pool was filled to the brim and I have to turn on the drain and partially empty it. Why? We are expecting more rain tomorrow. Another 5-6 inches! I am glad I don't live in Flaggstaff, where the residents are bracing for 4-6 FEET of snow! Did I suddenly get zapped back to Illinois?
Really, though, it is a refreshing change. Finally weather forecasters get to do something out here and the drains in the street get cleaned. The sound of rain on the roof is one that I had forgotten about. Thursday, I will sit out on my patio, watch it rain. Hey! It beats watching paint dry! If it comes down hard enough, I will go out front, open the garage door, and settle in for the boat races down the gutter.
When we get mega rain out here, people go crazy. Driving in the rain is something they never do, so getting places becomes an adventure. When the gutters are full and flowing, people actually get canoes and kayaks, and go down the curb line in them. (I wonder if there are blow up dolls that they can put out celebrating the rain, like they do on every other occasion?)
The only solace I take from this rain is that I live in a desert climate, and, hopefully, this will spur some growth of the wild flowers to pretty-up the desert floor. One thing is for certain, though, this morning the air over the downtown area will be clear and not brown or green.
Doughnut
PS..Watch for another exerpt of "Growing up Doughnut" on this website soon!
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Insurance Confusion Reigns (Rains)
Once again, I must admit, I am a slacker. I have been remiss in writing, and my brother let me know it last week. But, I have turned over a new leaf, and I will try to write something everyday. I don't want to write just anything, though. I want it to have substance..meaning... I want it to be life changing for you and an epiphany for me. Blogs are supposed to be musings, rants, stories, intellectual wanderings that offer an insight into humanity and the meaning of being human.
So, you're thinking, "BS" right?
OK, I confess. I was playing touron guide to my good friend George last week. We went all over the area: Tortilla Flats, Sedona, and just about everyby and highway around the Valley of the Sun. It was fun, but tiring. I had to take a day off to just catch up on being a tourist! Vacationing is hard work, and I don't see how people do it alot.
But, I am back at the old computer ready and raring to go. I am arguing with CIGNA about an insurance claim, but whoever I talk to gives me a different story. I am having a colonoscopy next week, but no one ever got it approved, so I called. Then I talked to the doctor's office AGAIN, and they told me that I did not need the okey dokey for the procedure. Now, I am totally confused. OH, for the good ol days of the HMO when I just went to see a doctor and never saw a bill! If that is what the universal healthcare is going to be like, bring it on! I am tired already of fighting with an insurance company where I CANNOT GO TALK TO SOMEONE IN PERSON!!! But, I can see where they do not want you to see the person you are talking to, you might be liable to reach across the desk at their ignorance!
No one, it seems, knows what my benefits are, not even me. The Republicans are ranting about not being able to read the entire healthcare bill? Try reading the benefits page of your own policy and then calling someone about it. They are trained to give you insurance double speak which ranks right up there with political talk. And, just like the two sides, they cannot offer you a straight answer. They will, " investigate the problem" and "get back to you." This means that they need time to get their "talking points" together so they can further confound me into being a moron (I don't need any help there.)
On the other hand, the sun is out for a while here in Phoenix... the big flood is coming later this week. So they say....
Doughnut
So, you're thinking, "BS" right?
OK, I confess. I was playing touron guide to my good friend George last week. We went all over the area: Tortilla Flats, Sedona, and just about everyby and highway around the Valley of the Sun. It was fun, but tiring. I had to take a day off to just catch up on being a tourist! Vacationing is hard work, and I don't see how people do it alot.
But, I am back at the old computer ready and raring to go. I am arguing with CIGNA about an insurance claim, but whoever I talk to gives me a different story. I am having a colonoscopy next week, but no one ever got it approved, so I called. Then I talked to the doctor's office AGAIN, and they told me that I did not need the okey dokey for the procedure. Now, I am totally confused. OH, for the good ol days of the HMO when I just went to see a doctor and never saw a bill! If that is what the universal healthcare is going to be like, bring it on! I am tired already of fighting with an insurance company where I CANNOT GO TALK TO SOMEONE IN PERSON!!! But, I can see where they do not want you to see the person you are talking to, you might be liable to reach across the desk at their ignorance!
No one, it seems, knows what my benefits are, not even me. The Republicans are ranting about not being able to read the entire healthcare bill? Try reading the benefits page of your own policy and then calling someone about it. They are trained to give you insurance double speak which ranks right up there with political talk. And, just like the two sides, they cannot offer you a straight answer. They will, " investigate the problem" and "get back to you." This means that they need time to get their "talking points" together so they can further confound me into being a moron (I don't need any help there.)
On the other hand, the sun is out for a while here in Phoenix... the big flood is coming later this week. So they say....
Doughnut
Monday, January 11, 2010
Reconnecting
I have no idea what got into me today; I awoke at 7 AM. I am retired, I don't have to get up until, say, the break of noon or so. But today is a special day, so I wanted to get an early start.
What is special about today, you say? (If I work a little harder, maybe I could be a poet, or at least a rapper... put the last question to a beat, add in some scratchy sounds....) Well, today we re getting a visit from an old friend. Not just any old friend, a mentor...George Young.
George and I coached together "back in the day" at Paxton/PBL High School. We were girls basketball coaches back when girls were just beginning to play the game in public for their parents and others to watch. I credit George for much of my success as a basketball coach, because I had never played the game, nor did I really watch it. But when he asked, and I told him my basketball IQ was lower than the body weight of a gnat, he merely said, "You'll learn. It'll be fun." And it was, for 30 years; 25 of which he and I were together.
He gave me some of my best memories both on and off the court. We had some good teams, we had some bad teams, but we always had a lot of laughs. Like the time early in my career when I had back spasms at practice and he and the team moved me over to the side and played around me until the end of practice, then loaded me up in the car and took me home. Or the time we were snowed in at Peotone, IL during a Christmas tourney and he and I slept on the couch in the teacher's lounge and the girls slept on the wrestling mats, then they ended up playing basketball at two in the morning...we lost the next day, but we had fun doing it! I'll never forget driving down First Street in Champaign, and the team breaking into their version of Kenny Rogers, "The Gambler" as topped the hill and the Assembly Hall came into view when we were headed to the state championships. We lost that one, too, to the eventual champs, but we had them on the ropes the entire game and could not finish them off.
He taught me a lot about team chemistry. We had film nights each Sunday night at his house. He and his wife Linda (What a saint she was!) had the entire team over, and cooked dinner for us, we watched film, then some movie. Usually, however, the evening became nothing but a laughfest at each other.
Off the court, we had some good laughs, too. George was never one to say no to a party, so we had quite few. Trips to coaches clinics were a blast, including the times when one coach surfed on top of a car, and another threw up along side of the road. These trips were always filled with philosophical discussions about coaching and about basketball.
When George retired in the early 90s, we lost touch, eventhough we only lived about four miles apart. That happens. He went on and did other things, I became deeper involved in coaching trying to fill his shoes.
Now, today, we are going to play golf in Arizona. A first for me... playing golf in January. But then again, it will be warm here, and I am sure the stories will be flowing.
Some things never change.
Doughnut
What is special about today, you say? (If I work a little harder, maybe I could be a poet, or at least a rapper... put the last question to a beat, add in some scratchy sounds....) Well, today we re getting a visit from an old friend. Not just any old friend, a mentor...George Young.
George and I coached together "back in the day" at Paxton/PBL High School. We were girls basketball coaches back when girls were just beginning to play the game in public for their parents and others to watch. I credit George for much of my success as a basketball coach, because I had never played the game, nor did I really watch it. But when he asked, and I told him my basketball IQ was lower than the body weight of a gnat, he merely said, "You'll learn. It'll be fun." And it was, for 30 years; 25 of which he and I were together.
He gave me some of my best memories both on and off the court. We had some good teams, we had some bad teams, but we always had a lot of laughs. Like the time early in my career when I had back spasms at practice and he and the team moved me over to the side and played around me until the end of practice, then loaded me up in the car and took me home. Or the time we were snowed in at Peotone, IL during a Christmas tourney and he and I slept on the couch in the teacher's lounge and the girls slept on the wrestling mats, then they ended up playing basketball at two in the morning...we lost the next day, but we had fun doing it! I'll never forget driving down First Street in Champaign, and the team breaking into their version of Kenny Rogers, "The Gambler" as topped the hill and the Assembly Hall came into view when we were headed to the state championships. We lost that one, too, to the eventual champs, but we had them on the ropes the entire game and could not finish them off.
He taught me a lot about team chemistry. We had film nights each Sunday night at his house. He and his wife Linda (What a saint she was!) had the entire team over, and cooked dinner for us, we watched film, then some movie. Usually, however, the evening became nothing but a laughfest at each other.
Off the court, we had some good laughs, too. George was never one to say no to a party, so we had quite few. Trips to coaches clinics were a blast, including the times when one coach surfed on top of a car, and another threw up along side of the road. These trips were always filled with philosophical discussions about coaching and about basketball.
When George retired in the early 90s, we lost touch, eventhough we only lived about four miles apart. That happens. He went on and did other things, I became deeper involved in coaching trying to fill his shoes.
Now, today, we are going to play golf in Arizona. A first for me... playing golf in January. But then again, it will be warm here, and I am sure the stories will be flowing.
Some things never change.
Doughnut
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Allow me to Rant about the Census
The census 2010 is looking for a few good citizens to help with the count and it cannot get them. In the Phoenix area alone, there is a need for 2500 census takers. The head of the area went on TV the other night and begged people to apply, because they cannot get enough applicants.
After going on to the website http://www.uscensus.gov, I can see why. Let's look at the problems as I see them with the application and possibly the entire idea as a whole:
First, the entire application online is 6 pages long. I cannot mail it or email it to them. I have to print it out and hand deliver it to them IN PERSON to the local office. Is the government not green? Can it not handle these functions of email and snail mail? If I work, when will I find time? The offices are not open after 5.
Second, in the part where I have to prove my citizenship....As an American Citizen, I have to offer TWO forms of identification, someone who is a NON American Citizen, has to offer one! It seems strange that Non Americans can count Americans... is it this way in other countries? Can Americans go over and count Lebanese? or how about us going over and counting the North Koreans for them?
Background checks. They are going to do a background check on all applicants. How long will that take? How extensive will it be?
The federal government has a manual for everything, apparently. In the test materials, one of the questions asks, "In what part of the manual would you find the directions for storing pencils, staples and paper clips?" Come on now, people have to have a procedure to store these things?
This is bureaucracy at its best.
It is no wonder that they cannot get anyone to apply. To top it all off, the jobs will only last 5-10 weeks. There are only benefits after you have been with them for two years. Someone's counting on a federal health plan, aren't they?
I understand the need for the census, but does doing it have to be so complicated? The census bureau will train people on how to read a map, count people, etc.
This has to be part of some stimulus package. They even state that it will not be a good job for someone who works full time, or is a student as the hours are different.
Being retired and in need of some beer money, I actually went through and filled out the application. The more I thought about it, though, the more incensed I got by it; especially having to prove my citizenship nine ways to Sunday, while a non-citizen has a lesser road of proof.
I think I will just let them count me, instead of me counting them.
All this reminds me of a story I once read that starts out like this, "In the days of Emperor Augustus, a decree went out that all peoples should be counted....."
It was much simpler then.
After going on to the website http://www.uscensus.gov, I can see why. Let's look at the problems as I see them with the application and possibly the entire idea as a whole:
First, the entire application online is 6 pages long. I cannot mail it or email it to them. I have to print it out and hand deliver it to them IN PERSON to the local office. Is the government not green? Can it not handle these functions of email and snail mail? If I work, when will I find time? The offices are not open after 5.
Second, in the part where I have to prove my citizenship....As an American Citizen, I have to offer TWO forms of identification, someone who is a NON American Citizen, has to offer one! It seems strange that Non Americans can count Americans... is it this way in other countries? Can Americans go over and count Lebanese? or how about us going over and counting the North Koreans for them?
Background checks. They are going to do a background check on all applicants. How long will that take? How extensive will it be?
The federal government has a manual for everything, apparently. In the test materials, one of the questions asks, "In what part of the manual would you find the directions for storing pencils, staples and paper clips?" Come on now, people have to have a procedure to store these things?
This is bureaucracy at its best.
It is no wonder that they cannot get anyone to apply. To top it all off, the jobs will only last 5-10 weeks. There are only benefits after you have been with them for two years. Someone's counting on a federal health plan, aren't they?
I understand the need for the census, but does doing it have to be so complicated? The census bureau will train people on how to read a map, count people, etc.
This has to be part of some stimulus package. They even state that it will not be a good job for someone who works full time, or is a student as the hours are different.
Being retired and in need of some beer money, I actually went through and filled out the application. The more I thought about it, though, the more incensed I got by it; especially having to prove my citizenship nine ways to Sunday, while a non-citizen has a lesser road of proof.
I think I will just let them count me, instead of me counting them.
All this reminds me of a story I once read that starts out like this, "In the days of Emperor Augustus, a decree went out that all peoples should be counted....."
It was much simpler then.
Friday, January 8, 2010
New Thought
I had an epiphany of sorts the other day. Where? At a church class....About what? Vision.
No, I am not talking about being able to see. I am talking about seeing where you want to be and then finding out how to get there. Church? Shields, we never knew you were religous!
Well, I am. Have always been. But, somewhere along the way, I stopped going to church. I think I did this not because I stopped believing in God, or even doubted his existence. I stopped because the pastors had nothing knew to say. It was the same ol' message, Sunday in and Sunday out. the music was centuries old and its inspiration had worn thin. I began reading the Transcendental poets, Emerson, Thoreau, the guys that told me that God is everywhere in everything. If I just opened my eyes, I could see Him. And I did.
But lately, after retirement, I suddenly realized that there was something missing. I had all my limbs, my family was doing well, I even was doing what I wanted when I wanted. What could be missing? I was happy, but not joyous. I had no direction.
One night, as I sat and listened to Joel Osteen, it suddenly hit me. I missed church. I missed that time when I interacted with God and felt something greater than myself in my life. When I was young. I was involved in church. I sang in the choir, I attended regularly, I went to youth groups. My relationships centered around school and church. Now, school was gone, and I felt empty.
I went to church with my wife, and found that thing had changed. There was no longer just singing, there was joyous singing. Rock music had replaced the organ, people dressed in normal clothes and carrying coffee had replaced the stilted suits and ties. The minister did not stand behind a pulpit, but rather came down and TALKED to us, not lectured us. Like my ministers of old, Bernie Nord and Happy Leman, he related how the Bible was important to me now.
If the purpose of a pastor is to lead his flock and to pass on Christ's work, it made sense to me that he should emulate the Master. He should dress as simply as possible, not in spectacular robes. A shepherd is, after all, a simple man who has a daunting task of keeping his flock together and leading them to safety. I have not seen many shepherders out gathering their flock in suits and ties.
The music at church should move you, to the point where the spirit lifts itself up. It seems that when I listen, I can't help but sing and the words and tune are within me. (It does help that the words are put on a big screen. Now it is a little like karaoke.) On more than one occasion since I have returned, the words and music have brought tears to my eyes.
So, what about this epiphany? I suddenly have a vision for myself. Something that has always been there, but has laid below the surface. I want to help this church, this congregation, this pastor as well as I can. Does this mean that I cannot find laughter or humor in things? Those of you who know me, truly know me, know this is impossible.
God gave me a great laugh, a sense of humor. The ability to look at life through eyes that find life is all fun. Sometimes I think I live in a perpetual situation comedy because I always have punch lines going through my brain.
He put them there. Did you hear the one about the priest, the rabbi and the shamin....
Doughnut
No, I am not talking about being able to see. I am talking about seeing where you want to be and then finding out how to get there. Church? Shields, we never knew you were religous!
Well, I am. Have always been. But, somewhere along the way, I stopped going to church. I think I did this not because I stopped believing in God, or even doubted his existence. I stopped because the pastors had nothing knew to say. It was the same ol' message, Sunday in and Sunday out. the music was centuries old and its inspiration had worn thin. I began reading the Transcendental poets, Emerson, Thoreau, the guys that told me that God is everywhere in everything. If I just opened my eyes, I could see Him. And I did.
But lately, after retirement, I suddenly realized that there was something missing. I had all my limbs, my family was doing well, I even was doing what I wanted when I wanted. What could be missing? I was happy, but not joyous. I had no direction.
One night, as I sat and listened to Joel Osteen, it suddenly hit me. I missed church. I missed that time when I interacted with God and felt something greater than myself in my life. When I was young. I was involved in church. I sang in the choir, I attended regularly, I went to youth groups. My relationships centered around school and church. Now, school was gone, and I felt empty.
I went to church with my wife, and found that thing had changed. There was no longer just singing, there was joyous singing. Rock music had replaced the organ, people dressed in normal clothes and carrying coffee had replaced the stilted suits and ties. The minister did not stand behind a pulpit, but rather came down and TALKED to us, not lectured us. Like my ministers of old, Bernie Nord and Happy Leman, he related how the Bible was important to me now.
If the purpose of a pastor is to lead his flock and to pass on Christ's work, it made sense to me that he should emulate the Master. He should dress as simply as possible, not in spectacular robes. A shepherd is, after all, a simple man who has a daunting task of keeping his flock together and leading them to safety. I have not seen many shepherders out gathering their flock in suits and ties.
The music at church should move you, to the point where the spirit lifts itself up. It seems that when I listen, I can't help but sing and the words and tune are within me. (It does help that the words are put on a big screen. Now it is a little like karaoke.) On more than one occasion since I have returned, the words and music have brought tears to my eyes.
So, what about this epiphany? I suddenly have a vision for myself. Something that has always been there, but has laid below the surface. I want to help this church, this congregation, this pastor as well as I can. Does this mean that I cannot find laughter or humor in things? Those of you who know me, truly know me, know this is impossible.
God gave me a great laugh, a sense of humor. The ability to look at life through eyes that find life is all fun. Sometimes I think I live in a perpetual situation comedy because I always have punch lines going through my brain.
He put them there. Did you hear the one about the priest, the rabbi and the shamin....
Doughnut
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Musings on Death
I'll try not to get all maudlin over the topic today....Death.
Just this week, I lost a friend whom I had not seen in a long time. Maybe "friend" is not the operative word I am looking for. How about, "an acquaintance from my youth"? We were at one time friends, and she married a good buddy, but we have never seen each other for a long time, even though we lived only 20 miles apart. Randly lost Barb on Monday, just three days into the new year. She had become ill on New Year's Day. I feel sad for Randy, his family, and those who were Barb's students. My condolences.
It made me think, though, about friendship and death. I have another friend who is undergoing colon surgery today to remove a tumor. Abdul had colon cancer 11 years ago, and he thought it was in remission. Happy New year to him. I have to admit that he has a great sense of humor. He told me the other night on the phone as we were discussing the surgery, "If I don't find humor in this, I'll get too depressed." He went on to explain that 11 years ago on Friday the 13th in November, he found out he had cancer; on Friday the 13th this year, he found out his cancer was back. He vowed to avoid going to the doctor on all Friday the 13ths from now on.
This morning, his daughter Alia tells me, he walked into the hospital wearing a sombrero and a brightly colored poncho. He always thought that he could pass for a Hispanic person, instead of a Pakistani. He even went out and learned fluent Spanish to prove his point. Abdul told me the other night, "I hope I come out of this a comma." "A comma?" I asked... Well, last time I had this colon surgery, I came out a semi colon. This time I hope to be a comma, not a period." Believe me, he needs all the punctuation he can get!
These two instances and the deaths of other friends have made me realize my own mortality. One of the goals in my life has always been to live past the age my father was when he died--57. I am close. I have always been taught to set goals that are reachable, then strive for more. So, next, I will look to my mom--75. Goals are good.
But my friends deaths seem to be outside their control. I am sure that Barb did not want to go, neither did John McElhaney, or Jeannie Miller, or many other friends that have passed on. They answered a different call. They all went on a journey that we, as living persons, do not and cannot fathom.
In the play, Our Town, by Thornton Wilder, Emily, who has died, asks the Stage Manager, "Do any humans ever realize life as they live it?---every, every minute?" The Stage Manager says that he does not think so, except for maybe the saints and the poets. Shakepeare reminds us that, " All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players..." reminding us that there is someone who controls the play and gives us directions and even has written the ending for us.
As you live your life, once again, Shakespeare tells us, "Act well your part, For in there all the glory lies."
Doughnut
Just this week, I lost a friend whom I had not seen in a long time. Maybe "friend" is not the operative word I am looking for. How about, "an acquaintance from my youth"? We were at one time friends, and she married a good buddy, but we have never seen each other for a long time, even though we lived only 20 miles apart. Randly lost Barb on Monday, just three days into the new year. She had become ill on New Year's Day. I feel sad for Randy, his family, and those who were Barb's students. My condolences.
It made me think, though, about friendship and death. I have another friend who is undergoing colon surgery today to remove a tumor. Abdul had colon cancer 11 years ago, and he thought it was in remission. Happy New year to him. I have to admit that he has a great sense of humor. He told me the other night on the phone as we were discussing the surgery, "If I don't find humor in this, I'll get too depressed." He went on to explain that 11 years ago on Friday the 13th in November, he found out he had cancer; on Friday the 13th this year, he found out his cancer was back. He vowed to avoid going to the doctor on all Friday the 13ths from now on.
This morning, his daughter Alia tells me, he walked into the hospital wearing a sombrero and a brightly colored poncho. He always thought that he could pass for a Hispanic person, instead of a Pakistani. He even went out and learned fluent Spanish to prove his point. Abdul told me the other night, "I hope I come out of this a comma." "A comma?" I asked... Well, last time I had this colon surgery, I came out a semi colon. This time I hope to be a comma, not a period." Believe me, he needs all the punctuation he can get!
These two instances and the deaths of other friends have made me realize my own mortality. One of the goals in my life has always been to live past the age my father was when he died--57. I am close. I have always been taught to set goals that are reachable, then strive for more. So, next, I will look to my mom--75. Goals are good.
But my friends deaths seem to be outside their control. I am sure that Barb did not want to go, neither did John McElhaney, or Jeannie Miller, or many other friends that have passed on. They answered a different call. They all went on a journey that we, as living persons, do not and cannot fathom.
In the play, Our Town, by Thornton Wilder, Emily, who has died, asks the Stage Manager, "Do any humans ever realize life as they live it?---every, every minute?" The Stage Manager says that he does not think so, except for maybe the saints and the poets. Shakepeare reminds us that, " All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players..." reminding us that there is someone who controls the play and gives us directions and even has written the ending for us.
As you live your life, once again, Shakespeare tells us, "Act well your part, For in there all the glory lies."
Doughnut
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Our New Arrival!
The first blog of the new year feels tremendous! We can begin the debate on whether we say, "Two thousand and ten" or Twenty-ten". To make this a short debate as far as I'm concerned, let me ask you this question, " What did you say in the last century?'" Was it "One thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine?" NO! You treated it as if it was two numbers... Nineteen 99. So Why should this be so thought provoking? After nineteen comes what?...DUH....TWENTY! So this year is TWENTY- TEN. The next year will be TWENTY-ELEVEN...etc. If you must use the Two-thousand thing... say, "In the year of our Lord, Two Thousand and Ten..." It does sound sophisticated and it does make you at least sound smarter.
I started off my new year with a drive to Fillmore, CA. There my daughter Debi and I took possession of another Doberman Pinscher for our family. The seven hour trip was not just she and I, though---we took along my grand-dog, four and half year old Akkadian. It was kind of like traveling with two close to 30 something. After all, Debi is 28 and Akkadian is almost 30 if we go by the premise that each dog year is 7 human years. The trip out there was uneventful, as Akkadian slept most of the way, or stared out the window. Debi and I listened to some audiobook about technological advances of the Twentieth Century.
Once we got to the hotel for the night, we spent a rather uneventful New Year's Day Evening ordering pizza from Pizza Hut and watch football on TV. When I went to bed at my usual 9:00pm (all right, I'm old) I was alone in my bed. After a 3AM Call of Nature, I found that I had a four-legged grand dog in bed with me. When I woke up three hours later, there was a cold nose nuzzling mine! It could have been worse; it could have been the other end.
We next took a two hour trip to Fillmore which, again, was uneventful. AK slept and Debi kept me awake by reading Trivial Pursuit questions to me while I drove the freeways and byways around LA. We arrive at Dobie Rescue and Little Paws on time.
I did not realize there was such a big deal about getting a dog from a rescue. But these people were serious about getting us the right dog so we would keep it and not return it. We first met an older dog named "Red". He was a little on the shy side. He had trouble even getting near us, let alone Akkadian. But he finally let me pet him after I removed his collar. Colleen, the girl that helped us, thought immediately about another dog they had gotten in about two days earlier, a dobie named "Carmello"
When she brought in Carmello, he and Akkadian immediately went throught the doggie dance. For some reason, if you did not know, dogs do not shake hands when they first meet. Other than the fact that they have no opposing thumb, shaking is not a sign of good manners in doggiedom. No, they sniff each other's butts! This helps them determine if the person they are meeting is female, male, or neutral. I guess if you can sniff someone's butt without getting snapped at or growled at, then they are ok....(Ok, guys, try that the next time you want to pick someone up at a bar!) The next thing they did was share some water, and then it was off to play.
And play they did! Carmello, an eight month old pup ran the old man Akkadian ragged. The youngster looked as though he was a deer as he bounded across the play area. Even though he was extremely malnourished, he had a great temperment and was full of happiness and love. He and Akkadian were friends, and I had a new Grand-dog! He did have to be put in his place by his older brother once, though.
On the way home, things went well for the most part. Akkadian got a little perturbed when Carmello tried to get to my sandwich... This, after all, the older one's territory. And when Debi was petting him and Carmello tried to get his in, AK let him know that this was his time, and Carmello should GET BACK!
On the trip we also changed Carmello's name. After all, he did not really know it anyway. Carmello made the transisition to Osiris. Some more grand and regal, like the dog he will grow up to be. Osirisi was the Egyptian god of the Underworld, and was held in high esteem by those who recognized him. This name went along with our First Dobie, AKKADIAN, an ancient Sumerian Warlord.
Today, I went over to see my two grand-dog sons, AK and SI. They met me at the door, shared my peanut butter pretzels, ate parts of my meatloaf and slept at my feet. We played in the yard until they could play no more.
What more could a guy ask for from life? A fantastic woman, two great kids, and two loving dogs. Life is good.
Doughnut
I started off my new year with a drive to Fillmore, CA. There my daughter Debi and I took possession of another Doberman Pinscher for our family. The seven hour trip was not just she and I, though---we took along my grand-dog, four and half year old Akkadian. It was kind of like traveling with two close to 30 something. After all, Debi is 28 and Akkadian is almost 30 if we go by the premise that each dog year is 7 human years. The trip out there was uneventful, as Akkadian slept most of the way, or stared out the window. Debi and I listened to some audiobook about technological advances of the Twentieth Century.
Once we got to the hotel for the night, we spent a rather uneventful New Year's Day Evening ordering pizza from Pizza Hut and watch football on TV. When I went to bed at my usual 9:00pm (all right, I'm old) I was alone in my bed. After a 3AM Call of Nature, I found that I had a four-legged grand dog in bed with me. When I woke up three hours later, there was a cold nose nuzzling mine! It could have been worse; it could have been the other end.
We next took a two hour trip to Fillmore which, again, was uneventful. AK slept and Debi kept me awake by reading Trivial Pursuit questions to me while I drove the freeways and byways around LA. We arrive at Dobie Rescue and Little Paws on time.
I did not realize there was such a big deal about getting a dog from a rescue. But these people were serious about getting us the right dog so we would keep it and not return it. We first met an older dog named "Red". He was a little on the shy side. He had trouble even getting near us, let alone Akkadian. But he finally let me pet him after I removed his collar. Colleen, the girl that helped us, thought immediately about another dog they had gotten in about two days earlier, a dobie named "Carmello"
When she brought in Carmello, he and Akkadian immediately went throught the doggie dance. For some reason, if you did not know, dogs do not shake hands when they first meet. Other than the fact that they have no opposing thumb, shaking is not a sign of good manners in doggiedom. No, they sniff each other's butts! This helps them determine if the person they are meeting is female, male, or neutral. I guess if you can sniff someone's butt without getting snapped at or growled at, then they are ok....(Ok, guys, try that the next time you want to pick someone up at a bar!) The next thing they did was share some water, and then it was off to play.
And play they did! Carmello, an eight month old pup ran the old man Akkadian ragged. The youngster looked as though he was a deer as he bounded across the play area. Even though he was extremely malnourished, he had a great temperment and was full of happiness and love. He and Akkadian were friends, and I had a new Grand-dog! He did have to be put in his place by his older brother once, though.
On the way home, things went well for the most part. Akkadian got a little perturbed when Carmello tried to get to my sandwich... This, after all, the older one's territory. And when Debi was petting him and Carmello tried to get his in, AK let him know that this was his time, and Carmello should GET BACK!
On the trip we also changed Carmello's name. After all, he did not really know it anyway. Carmello made the transisition to Osiris. Some more grand and regal, like the dog he will grow up to be. Osirisi was the Egyptian god of the Underworld, and was held in high esteem by those who recognized him. This name went along with our First Dobie, AKKADIAN, an ancient Sumerian Warlord.
Today, I went over to see my two grand-dog sons, AK and SI. They met me at the door, shared my peanut butter pretzels, ate parts of my meatloaf and slept at my feet. We played in the yard until they could play no more.
What more could a guy ask for from life? A fantastic woman, two great kids, and two loving dogs. Life is good.
Doughnut
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