tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42003508529578373152024-03-13T22:02:04.966-07:00The Bashful BloviatorI'm Forrest Carr, novelist, blogger, land snark, and former TV news director and talk radio host. I tackle politics, cats, the media, paranormal psychology, dreams, God, guns, evolution, rat bastards, and anything else that might make you think or laugh, maybe even simultaneously. And, oh yeah, I have cancer, which makes me the Walter White of bloggers. You have been warned. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.comBlogger260125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-62525907046979055112016-01-22T16:57:00.001-07:002016-01-22T16:57:28.355-07:00Medical Travails Friday January 22<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s1SLgHHefQQ/VqLBed_tsYI/AAAAAAAACRE/CEKN288e63w/s1600/00%2BLife%2Bon%2BMedicine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s1SLgHHefQQ/VqLBed_tsYI/AAAAAAAACRE/CEKN288e63w/s200/00%2BLife%2Bon%2BMedicine.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">My
wife Deborah says that right</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">now the
question of the month/week/day/hour she’s getting at the moment is simply
this:</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">has Forrest really lost his mind
or is he faking it?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The
answer is: I haven’t lost my mind but nor
am I precisely faking it. I’ve enjoyed
taking off on a rambling, somewhat whimsical mood over the last couple of
weeks, doing whatever I want to do. Of
course, I have found that this is a double edged sword. If I want to take off, for instance, go buy a
couple of Eveready batteries and hook up the cat buggy that we got Ellis and
Mina for Christmas, or to plug into their Motor Bug, it’s well and fine – until
such time as I decide I’m ready to stop with the game. The cats know the batteries have not given
out (they’ve seen the commercials) and they refuse to let the game end. Their version of the game is not
particularly robust, however, mainly consisting of sitting at the side of the
carpet and hollering until one of us revs the toy up and gets it zipping around
again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The
motortack buggy wasn’t really designed for this kind of thing, which more or
less makes it perfect. Just set it to dive for the cat’s nose and then stand
back to watch the reaction. It has
limited steering (very limited) and you can get it to make a dive at the cat’s
nose if you take the time and a little practice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mIJs4jT5gvg/VqLBq2AQAdI/AAAAAAAACRM/GCjk8EXIIb4/s1600/00%2Bchase%2BChase.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mIJs4jT5gvg/VqLBq2AQAdI/AAAAAAAACRM/GCjk8EXIIb4/s320/00%2Bchase%2BChase.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cat and machine</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></div>
<a name='more'></a>The
doodle bug is a bit more ingenious. It
has rubber runners down sides. When you
turn it on, a vibration motor causes the whole thing to travel in a more or
less straight line down the center of the floor. There are no wheels for it to be knocked off
of, so you can knock it off course but not off its feet. This drives both cats batsh*t crazy. They’ll sit there and holler and chase and
chase and holler until they’re about worn out.<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">And
now you know how I spend my day every day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
have to say I really enjoy spending time with Bride of the Bloviator every
day. She’s wonderful company and we keep
ourselves entertained. I don’t know what
I’d do without her. Well, actually, I
do,and those consequences are not pleasant to contemplate. The night before last we watched The Martian
via On Demand movies; it’s a really good flick, by the way. Last night we watched The Visitor and then
watched Gravity again, which we’d seen before. All three films were well above
average and we highly recommend them even if you’re not a sci-fi buff.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">My
medical situation is pretty much as I’ve been describing it. Some days are better than others, and some
days are very much better. Yesterday,
not a good day. I went around all day
feeling like I’d been shot. If I were a
better writer I could tell you precisely where; suffice it to say it appeared
the bullet went in just below rib #8 and it hurts like the dickens. For treatment I take the pain killers the
docs have ordered, primarily dilaudid,
lorazapam to keep me sedated (hence the occasional piece of word salad in my
narrative) and methadone. Yeah, I know,
that is a scary word and it does scare
me. That is why I am on a very
closely guarded regimine for treatment.
There is no “high” to the treatment, no feeling of euphoria on either
side of it. Deborah administers the
drugs and I take what she tells me to take when she tells me to take them. The hardest part is the pain—the “shot
through the gut” as it were. Lack of
sleep has turned out not to be an issue; I’m getting plenty of that. In fact, arguably I’m getting too much sleep,
by a factor of 25%. But since lack of
sleep has always been a problem of mine, I
just go with the flow and see where the morning takes me. Usually it takes me to a good place. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
have a hospice nurse who comes by once a week to check up on me physically to
make sure I’m doing OK, and almost every time, I am. She rides herd on me to make sure I take my
medicines appropriately, which I do. I’m
a good citizen in that regard. I really
love this lady; she takes good, strong care of me. There is no telling how long the treatment
will continue to work for me; worrying about that is a constant concern for all
three of us. But really, there’s nothing
that can be done about it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Since
Christmas I’ve received dozens of inquiries via Facebook and email. I’m going to go down and answer some of those
now individually. I apologize that it’s
been so long in getting back to everyone.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Sara
and Delaney: done, and good luck!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Jenny
Grzelak-Martinez and Julie Kraft: I
couldn’t have said it better myself, and won’t even try. It’s good to know that I’m being thought
of. The reverse is true too. God bless you. Jenny, good luck with your travels at the
Mayo.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The
Andrews family, Jay Solomon, Jim Arnold, Micah Johnson, Ray Depa, Bill
Applegate, Eureka Castillo, Martha Serda, Tom Jacobs, Bonnie Kourvelas, Jeremy
Kourvelas, Pepe Valencia – Michael Malone, Amy Wegmann, -- thanks for the best
wishes for peace and love. Same back to
you. We love you all back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-78468259641301665342016-01-16T18:35:00.001-07:002016-01-17T17:20:48.249-07:00Medical Travails Friday January 16<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">Ready
for more babbling?</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">I know I am.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
mentioned in the last entry that I might have more to say on a certain subject.
Can anyone guess what it is? It’s simply
this: the right to babble!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Okay,
let me warn you right now there is going to be a fair amount of babbling in
this blog entry—not just because I’m losing my mind, which is true, but because
I’ve earned the right to lose my mind, have been working for this goal for many
years and expect to capitally enjoy the moment.
This could wind up being even worse than some of the missives that have
come before. In other words, I may enjoy it more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">First
of all, you’ll notice that the date at the top of the blog does not match the
blog itself. I’m fully aware of that
fact and have no plans to correct it. It’s one of many small ways in which I plan to invite the
world to go screw itself in the days and weeks ahead. Why?
Because I can. Call it my Christmas present to myself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">By
now, with Christmas season having come
and gone, gone, gone, some of you may have roused yourselves to wonder where
your uncles, classmates, aunts, and so on have roused themselves to disappear
to, and from whence to return, at no small effort, I may add. Its really this simple. We’ve lost our minds—some of us have, that
is. What else could force us to
relinquish, and then so admirably restore, such powerful items to our
possession, than those now residing in
the evidence lockers aboard chests A-T and lockers R-Z, because it was his good
fortune that led us to the find. By the
way, you’ll notice that the preceding sentence made no sense. Here’s a clue for you: I liked it that way and may write more just
like it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">BUT
SERIOUSLY, folks, it was always my full intension to give a complete accounting
of the affairs of this evening, once those affairs become known (cue the
parakeet). All it lacked was a capable
reporter, which as of this evening was lacking but which now is in full
evidence and lacks only a nudge to be off with itself. I am referring, of
course, to the family parakeet, which stands by ready do to its duty to the
full.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">But
SERIOUSLY, as many of you know, and if
you’ve been following this blog, then you now that <i>of course </i>my health has taken a turn for the much worse of late. The much, MUCH worse, I’m afraid. The kind you don’t recover from. I’m afraid I’m under the strictest doctors’
orders to return at once to the vessel should
any of the following symptoms appear—and he then laid out a regular
launderers’ list of items of pleasure to be avoided. <br />
<br />
OK, what is this about really? Really,
it’s about the Christmas season and everyone’s fear that I and other Christmas celebration
officers might overdo it. And that, in a nutshell, is that. It’s about various schemes to keep me and
other officers, once pried away from her (the Christmas celebrations that is), remain
thusly pried. It’s about making sure
that no one, having been forced to give up a fair advantage in the past, be
forced to give it up again in the future.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Above
all, it’s about remembering what great fun you had tonight with a view toward
making sure you are able to make it
again for more fun tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Okay,
by now you’re probably wondering whether I can start and stop this stuff at
will—this seeming turning on and turning off of the craziness of the head. I believe that I can. Bear with me and you can be the judge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">This
all started about three days before Christmas when we – and by “we” I mean my wife, the cat, the parakeet and so on,
began to notice that my behavior had gone a bit toward the balmy side—about two
steps in the direction of dimentia.
Nothing too serious, mind you – you’d just tell me something and it
would go into one ear and out the other.
They got me to agree to go to the hospice in-patient center on the
pretext of checking my meds (a process called “titration”) to make sure the
levels are properly set for my condition—a proposition that actually makes
quite a bit of sense. So, I agreed. I have to say, I absolutley love the Casa de
la Luz Hospice Center, which is fully geared for patient needs and which turns
out a better patient in terms of how the
patient gets along with the meds and so on. I also sleep so much better when on
bed medication. So it’s been great. I also love my nurses, each and every
one. These are truly great people and I
love them each and every one. (I said
that didn’t I?) They don’t nag you here;
you can sleep as late as you like and do pretty much whatever you want. I mean, why ever not? Your only mission is is to go about the
business of dying. Sounds brutal, I know, but that’s pretty much the way it is,
isn’t it? So, I head to bed each night
with an assigned mission only of sleeping as late as I want and remaining in
bed as long as I like (wait – aren’t those two phrases that say the same thing?
See how this dementia thing works?). But I absolutely love it. Said that too,
didn’t I? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The
toughest thing is to get to the meds titrated (prounouned TIE-trated). When I
first arrived at the hospice center, the
meds were more or less in line, meaning that that I could count on X dose delivering Y amount of comfort and sleep. That changed over time to where X does now
delivers Z amount of sleep. Since I
really need Y amount of sleep and not Z, this creates a problem. Only as slight one, but a problem just the
same. The way we fix this is the same way Dr. Vertrude von Nichols fixed it in
the 19th century—add more meds on the front end, or less on the back end, and
see what happens. What normally happens
is nothing much, but sometimes the results can be quite spectacular. Last week I lost a whole day, like those rock
voyagers of the 60’s will sometimes claim to have lost entire years. Don’t make any sudden movements around me and
I’m sure I’ll be fine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
really did, no kidding, lose an entire day over the Christmas weekend. I got most
of it of back, thank godnesss, because it’s not the kind of weekend you really
want to lose; I mean, it was Christmas, for <i>chrissake</i>. I just could not remember certain things that
had alleged to have been said to me or about me – mainly conversations about
medications and so on. It was really
quite scary. Those episodes lasted only about half a week or so and then were
gone, to be replaced by my normal good-natured self ,which seems to frighten
everyone else but not me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Something
else a little strange is going on, too. Mechanical devices all around me are
failing. My keyboard mouse failed, and
then finally so did the keyboard itself.
The little mechanical hard drive failed – fortunately, I have a redundant. Because if not, I would
have been well and truly screwed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">That
is about all I have to report so far through Christmas and New Year’s. Pretty
lame, I know. My head falls with shame. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">What
else do I have to report? As I
said, mechanical devices continue to
fail, to my consternation and frustration, but there doesn’t seem to be much I
can do about it, so I just lie back and enjoy it as best as I can. Which doesn’t seem like much. But it beats nothing at all, at least
marginally.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">And,
that is about all I have to report for now.
Lame, I know. Maybe tomorrow will
be better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Medical
Travails Monday December 28<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Okay,
time for round two of Losing my Mind, the game show where we just show just how
much of the human mind one can lose without relinqiuishing all claim to sanity
whatsoever. While we are at it we may
also answer this one: is it possible to
give up all claim to sanity at all and still wish to retain an ability to drive
–you know, as in drive an automobile. I
have no idea the answers to those questions but let’s explore them together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Toward
driving: I have a feeling driving will wind up being characterized as fun but
not utterly necessary. Just a minute. I’ve done a great bit of it lately
but none of it has been utterly crucial to the life function. So from that standpoint I’d say it’s fun but
not utterly necessary well into the future of humanity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Oh,
wait a minute, is that one causing the light bells to go off. Ding, ding, ding! Pleny of people appearently believe that
driving will be a pre-requisite of the human condition for some time to come
and they are firing up those response jets.
They may be right. God, let’s
hope not. Time will tell. I certainly know I’ll be spending a lot of
time calling for Jesus in that eventuality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Okay,
lets see what other business we have to conduct in this exchange.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">My
log lists dozens and dozens of responses to the last round of business. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Jenny
& Julie -- it’s good to hear from
you. As you can tell by the last two posts, I’m doing about as well as can be
expected under the conditions. I’ll have
more in the days ahead. Meanwhile, God
bless you an keep you well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">###<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-52000875155069478812016-01-16T16:59:00.000-07:002016-01-16T18:19:26.564-07:00Medical Travails Monday December 28<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Okay,
let me warn you right now there is going to be a fair amount of babbling in
this blog entry—not just because I’m losing my mind, which is true, but because
I’ve earned the right to lose my mind, have been working for this goal for many
years and expect to capitally enjoy the moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This could wind up being even worse than some of the missives that have
come before. In other words, I may enjoy it more.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">First
of all, you’ll notice that the date at the top of the blog does not match the
blog itself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m fully aware of that
fact and have no plans to correct it. It’s one of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>many small ways in which I plan to invite the
world to go screw itself in the days and weeks ahead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because I can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Call it my<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Christmas present to myself.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">By
now, with Christmas season<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>having come
and gone, gone, gone, some of you may have roused yourselves to wonder where
your uncles, classmates, aunts, and so on have roused themselves to disappear
to, and from whence to return, at no small effort, I may add.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its really this simple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve lost our minds—some of us have, that
is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What else could force us to
relinquish, and then so admirably restore, such powerful items to our
possession, than<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>those now residing in
the evidence lockers aboard chests A-T and lockers R-Z, because it was his good
fortune that led us to the find.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the
way, you’ll notice that the preceding sentence made no sense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here’s a clue for you:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I liked it that way and may write more just
like it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">BUT
SERIOUSLY, folks, it was always my full intention to give a complete accounting
of the affairs of this evening, once those affairs become known (cue the
parakeet).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All it lacked was a capable
reporter, which as of this evening was lacking but which now is in full
evidence and lacks only a nudge to be off with itself. I am referring, of
course, to the family parakeet, which stands by ready do to its duty to the
full.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">But
SERIOUSLY, as many of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>you know, and if
you’ve been following ths blog, then you now that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">of course </i>my health has taken a turn for the much worse of late.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The much, MUCH worse, I’m afraid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kind you don’t recover from.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m afraid I’m under the strictest doctors’
orders to return at once to the vessel should<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>any of the following symptoms appear—and he then laid out a regular
launderers’ list of items of pleasure to be avoided.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
OK, what is this about really?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Really,
it’s about the Christmas season and everyone’s fear that I and other Christmas celebration
officers might overdo it. And that, in a nutshell, is that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(And by the way, does that seem right to you? More about that in an upcoming post). It’s about various schemes to keep me and
other officers, once pried away from her (the Christmas celebrations that is), remain
thusly pried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s about making sure
that no one, having been forced to give up a fair advantage in the past, be
forced to give it up again in the future.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Above
all, it’s about remembering what great fun you had tonight with a view toward
making sure you are able to<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>make it
again for more fun tomorrow.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Okay,
by now you’re probably wondering whether I can start and stop this stuff at
will—this seeming turning on and turning off of the craziness of the head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believe that I can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bear with me and you can be the judge.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">This
all started about three days before Christmas when we – and by “we” I mean<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>my wife, the cat, the parakeet and so on,
began to notice that my behavior had gone a bit toward the balmy side—about two
steps in the direction of dimentia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Nothing too serious, mind you – you’d just tell me something and it
would go into one ear and out the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They got me to agree to go to the hospice in-patient center on the
pretext of checking my meds (a process called “titration”) to make sure the
levels are properly set for my condition—a proposition that actually makes
quite a bit of sense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I agreed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have to say, I absolutley love the Casa de
la Luz Hospice Center, which is fully geared for patient needs and which turns
out a better<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>patient in terms of how the
patient gets along with the meds and so on. I also sleep so much better when on
bed medication.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So it’s been great.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also love my nurses, each and every
one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These are truly great people and I
love them each and every one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I said
that didn’t I?)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They don’t nag you here;
you can sleep as late as you like and do pretty much whatever you want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean, why ever not?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your only mission is is to go about the
business of dying. Sounds brutal, I know, but that’s pretty much the way it is,
isn’t it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I head to bed each night
with an assigned mission only of sleeping as late as I want and remaining in
bed as long as I like (wait – aren’t those two phrases that say the same thing?
See how this dementia thing works?). But I absolutely love it. Said that too,
didn’t I?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The
toughest thing is to get to the meds properly titrated (prounouned TIE-trated). When I
first arrived at the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>hospice center, the
meds were more or less in line, meaning that that I could count on<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>X dose delivering Y amount of comfort and sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That changed over time to where X now
delivers Z amount of sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since I
really need Y amount of sleep and not Z, this creates a problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only as slight one, but a problem just the
same. The way we fix this is the same way Dr. Vertrude von Nichols fixed it in
the 19th century—add more meds on the front end, or less on the back end, and
see what happens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What normally happens
is nothing much, but sometimes the results back be quite spectacular.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last week I lost a whole day, like those rock
voyagers of the 60’s will sometimes claim to have lost entire years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t make any sudden movements around me and
I’m sure we'll both be be fine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
really did, no kidding, lose an entire day over the Christmas weekend. I got most
of it of back, thank godnesss, because it’s not the kind of weekend you really
want to lose; I mean, it was Christmas, for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">chrissake</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just could not remember certain things that
had alleged to have been said to me or about me – mainly conversations about
medications and so on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was really
quite scary. Those episodes lasted only about half a week or so and then were
gone, to be replaced by my normal good-natured self ,which seems to frighten
everyone else but not me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Something
else a little strange is going on, too. Mechanical devices all around me are
failing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My keyboard mouse failed, and
then finally so did the keyboard itself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The little mechanical hard drive failed – fortunately,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have a redundant. Because if not, I would
have been well and truly screwed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">That
is about all I have to report so far through Christmas and New Year’s. Pretty
lame, I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My head falls with shame.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">What
else do I have to report?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I
said,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>mechanical devices continue to
fail, to my consternation and frustration, but there doesn’t seem to be much I
can do about it, so I just lie back and enjoy it as best as I can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which doesn’t seem like much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it beats nothing at all, at least
marginally.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">And,
that is about all I have to report for now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Lame, I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe tomorrow will
be better.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Nah, I don't think so, either.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">### </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-37234273623658236742016-01-01T21:48:00.001-07:002016-01-01T21:48:20.388-07:00My Stay in Hospice, Night One<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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Well, I will say this was certainly unexpected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hence the term, “unexpected.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But for the past several nights, when I’ve
been ready to go to bed at night, my body hasn’t been – not because
because<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not sleepy but because of
persitent pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This sets up what you
might call a criss-cross across of pain across my lower left flank that extends
across to my upper right flank.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pain
is surpsingnly brisk –about a 7 on scale of 10.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That’s not too much to keep me from nodding off to sleep eventually but
it is enough to make it quite difficult.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
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<a name='more'></a><br />
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This morning I had the first morning problem with it to
date. By coicidedence and completely unbeknownst to me, my hospice happened to
pick tonight as the next night for our ongoing efforts to eradicate the problem
altogether.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The new addition into the
mix tonight will be the drug methadone – yes, that unsavory holdout from the
60’s developed with the understanding that if felt good, then it must be bad
for you and vice vesa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, I’ll pop my
first does in about 90 minutes and I’ll let you know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One thing is for sure:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the current system is not working.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Period. </div>
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My mental acuity continues to get worse and worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sure hope this problem isn’t affecting
people with far greater responsibilities mine—you know, the people who carry
the nuclear launch codes, those kinds of cats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Now is not the the time to be waxinig poetic about the competence of
those kinds of people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The time for
doing that was about fifty years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When it all started, in fact.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>course, I am overreacating.
The “problem” at this sitting is limited in scope to on conversation about one
guy with terminal cancer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We don’t have
any bigger problem than that, do we?</div>
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What did we say was on the tube tonight – “The
Expdendibles,” about a bunch of old war buddies having it out in a duel for old
nuclear weaponry the way you and I might have batted the issues back and forth
over a game of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>bridge 20 years ago?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is called “entertainment.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Entertainment for our age,” certaintly.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-90965023223516953032015-12-28T16:51:00.001-07:002015-12-28T16:51:59.696-07:00Medical Travails Monday December December 28<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ql6vP9QwRd4/VoHIC8RDurI/AAAAAAAACQM/XAKNeqKZXD0/s1600/00%2BBe%2BMy%2Bguest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ql6vP9QwRd4/VoHIC8RDurI/AAAAAAAACQM/XAKNeqKZXD0/s200/00%2BBe%2BMy%2Bguest.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">Well,
Christmas season 2016 isn’t quite completely gone yet, but it is almost out of
the picture.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">In some ways I have felt
like the Bubble Boy – I haven’t really been able to get out and about due to pain and to concerns
about contagion (no danger to others just to me).</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The
lights of the Christmas season have delighted me more this year than in years
past. Again, don’t ask me why. But I have tremendously enjoyed picking out
and laying the little strands of light around the tree. Actually, to be honest I should specify that
Deborah has done all the laying out of Christmas lights while I’ve acted as
sidewalk superintendent. This works out slightly
better for me because that way I can be there to physically intervene should
anything appear to start to slide out of the way downhill or whatnot. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></div>
<a name='more'></a>My
physical pain is getting progressively a little worse by the day – hence the
term "progressive."<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">. The pain shows up mainly around my abdomen, middle girth; and
lower side. A couple hits of Dilaudid
seems to send it on its way. This is
going to get progressively worse, I know, and it has me become progressively
more worried about what end-game symptoms are going to look like. There’s nothing to do be done about it,
though—other than what I already am doing—and that is to brace for the worst
but be prepared for the best. I share these concerns with you as part of my overall
commitment to share everything I’m going through with my readers—the good, the
bad, and the indifferent. So, there’s a
little bad and indifferent for you.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Here’re
more good. The same couple that gave a
substantial donation in honor of Deborah and me to Interfaith Community
Services had a mass said in our honor this morning at Our Lady of the Desert,
7101 W. Picture Rocks Road here in Tucson. The way this works is that the mass
becomes a “Prayer for the Intentions of” the person or family named. We gratefully accept that, and our intentions
are simple: we pray to God that people
who find themselves in a situation similar to ours experience the joy we have
of having others reach out to them in this manner. There is no feeling quite like it. To say it’s a balm for the soul would be the
wildest exaggeration. I would wish out
loud that everyone could experience this if the cost weren’t so steep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
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<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The
first step isn’t a tough one, though. The
couple said their first was to simply visit the blog, (<a href="http://thebashfulbloviator.blogspot.com/">http://thebashfulbloviator.blogspot.com/</a>
) or just type “the bashful bloviator” into your favorite search engine, and to begin reading.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Let’s see if there’s anything else happening before
we close the attic door, so to speak. No, not really. Because Deborah was so busy and I could not
get about and about very well, we gave gifts best suited to ordering on line,
and of course that means clothes. I have
to say that Deb looked pretty good in some of the outfits I got her, and I have
to believe that she couldn’t have made up everything nice she said about
me. But we’ll see. What I mainly needed were large loose-fitting
garments and I got those in spades.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tglpa0vLvLI/VoHJFXqJ2fI/AAAAAAAACQQ/zyRPQevQQoM/s1600/DSC_0019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="259" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tglpa0vLvLI/VoHJFXqJ2fI/AAAAAAAACQQ/zyRPQevQQoM/s320/DSC_0019.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting ready for "Rudolph"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">We
also gave the gift of time. It’s not officially Chistmas season until you’ve
seen one of these classics:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">1.
Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">2.
A Charlie Brown Christmas;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">3.
Scrooge<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">4.
A Christmas Carol (1938)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">5.
A Christmas Carol (1970- Finney)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">6.
A Christmas Carol (1984-Scott)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">7. Mr.Magoo’s Christmas Carol<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">8.
Planes, Trains and Automobiles<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">9.
How the Grinch Stole Christmas<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">We’ve seen most of these already and have plans for the rest.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ql6vP9QwRd4/VoHIC8RDurI/AAAAAAAACQM/XAKNeqKZXD0/s1600/00%2BBe%2BMy%2Bguest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ql6vP9QwRd4/VoHIC8RDurI/AAAAAAAACQM/XAKNeqKZXD0/s320/00%2BBe%2BMy%2Bguest.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ticket reqjired!</td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Having seen most of these specials many, many times, I was blown away to suddenly notice my name on the guest list--You know, the one Santa checks twice. Forrest is not a common name. But it's on the check-out list for Christmas Vacation, reserved in my name. How could I have never noticed that before? How about that? No admittance without ticket!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
Love Christmas!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-55523751368494246352015-12-12T17:14:00.002-07:002015-12-12T18:31:18.497-07:00My Life and Medical Travails Saturday December 12<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1KquVa9Cq-k/Vmyxo454E-I/AAAAAAAACOU/uykJrlGvq5Q/s1600/000%2BFATBULB.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1KquVa9Cq-k/Vmyxo454E-I/AAAAAAAACOU/uykJrlGvq5Q/s200/000%2BFATBULB.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Well,
you can’t tell it to look at the photo in the upper left corner of this page,
but a crucial time was ticking down here when I was taking this photo. The
“fat bulb” light string depicted
here was about to bite the dust. But on
the other hand, the white and gold strand of garland shown here was making its
international debut.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"></span></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Why
are either of these events significant? I
have always associated “fat bulbs” with my childhood. It is not Christmas season, in fact, until
and unless that first string of fat bulbs goes up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
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</div>
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</div>
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</div>
<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9D3RxyI7e30/VmyyZCmPS-I/AAAAAAAACOo/RTg9vLdrjvg/s1600/00%2Bfat%2Bbulb%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=""Fat Bulb" string with 60 seconds of life left in it" border="0" height="278" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9D3RxyI7e30/VmyyZCmPS-I/AAAAAAAACOo/RTg9vLdrjvg/s320/00%2Bfat%2Bbulb%2B1.jpg" title="c. 1972 Fat Bulbs" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Sometime
in the late 50's or early 60s the Marketers that Be came out with these tiny pinlight
Christmas tree bulbs called “the mini.”
Today, alas, these things are the most popular. They’re barely bulbs at all, really, just glass
and metal reflectors wrapped loosely around some mysteriously-generated
spark. I can’t say precisely when such
devices appeared—the history pages I consulted (and yes, such things exist,
done by people with even more time on their hands than I have) didn’t say. We need some Christmas tree historian to set
the record straight and let us know exactly when the countdown to the end of civilization
as we know it was embarked upon. But
embarked upon it was, and in my household the unthinkable happened at about
7:35 PM Saturday night. The clock ran
down to zero and my last strand of big fat bulb lights blew. This was not something that could be replaced
without creating a fire hazard—there actually was a shower of </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-swPx-aPQLAs/Vmy0E2xfD0I/AAAAAAAACOw/_NfqoOP-5NM/s1600/DSC_0032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-swPx-aPQLAs/Vmy0E2xfD0I/AAAAAAAACOw/_NfqoOP-5NM/s320/DSC_0032.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
sparks as the
thing went out . And would you believe
it—this was my recent and <i>newest</i>
purchase of fat bulbs (otherwise known as the “c-7”)? A search on the internet reveals that
replacements are available in roughly the came c-7 size range, but they are
LED’s, not incandscents. Don’t ask me
why it makes a difference, but it does. I
had gone on a long if not exhaustive search for fat bulbs in recent years and
this was the last incandescent string to escape the clutches of the
environmentalists who are determined to protect each and every one of us from
all the dangers of that such devices present to the ecology and to the economy. Apparently they burn too much electricity or
some such damned thing. Or maybe in
today’s environment they’re just more expensive both to buy and operate and
people are not willing to pay more for the privilege of stoking up a little
childhood nostalgia. Could be the
skinflints among us are at fault.
Well, phooey on them, I say. <o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">So,
out the surviving strings of fat bulbs went, and in came the new, at 10 cents a
bulb for a string of 50. And then back those
all went to the store be because the strands were set up to loop but not spiral
– in other words, they could not be connected end to end to one another. What’s the use of a light strand that won’t
form into a strand? Back to the store...
only to find that replacement strands that would actually form into strands cost
4 times as much per bulb! FOUR TIMES! WTF? The
top replacement strand is flaky and may yet fail on us.
To be honest it’s a little ridiculous.
But now we are up and running.
And yes, I am very sad not to
have my fat bulbs. I’m noticing that my
ancient Kodak snapshots from my childhood didn’t do a very good job of
capturing the “fat bulb essence” although I have some </span></div>
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6-d4r4Y6N3Y/Vmy1EQ1Q5uI/AAAAAAAACPA/D_IooaxozZQ/s1600/00%2BXmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="205" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6-d4r4Y6N3Y/Vmy1EQ1Q5uI/AAAAAAAACPA/D_IooaxozZQ/s320/00%2BXmas.jpg" title=""Fat bulbs" circa 1980." width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
better shots from later
in life taken with my Pentax SLR.<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">So,
yes, I’m sad to see that what almost certainly will be my last Christmas tree
will not have fat bulbs. But, I’m not
giving in to the inevitable. This is NOT
a plea for anonymous donors to send in strands of fat bulbs. For one thing, we already have the tree up
and we absolutely will not be dismantling it in order to replace the tiny lights
with the fatter ones. I hasten to throw
these comments out because judging by the generosity I’m seen so far I can just
imagine some of you raiding your own stocks of fat bulbs and strands and
sending them to me. And that is definitely
not something I’d want you to do because, although Deborah doesn’t make a big deal out of it, she likes the pinwheels better than the fat bulbs. Who knew?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">She’s
also getting something else this year she’s always wanted: Garland.
Me, I could not possibly care less about the type of Garland appearing
on our Christmas tree—and no, I am not talking about the town in Texas. Gold garland, blue garland,red garland, you
name it—I turn my nose up at it. I have
nothing against it, just nothing for it.
This year at the CVS Deborah
suddenly dug in her heels and decided we will have garland. Period. Well, okay, fine. How much should we buy?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">I
challenge you. Here is a package of
garland. It’s 4 meters. Is that enough
for the tree you’re putting up? Too
much? If too much, then too much by how
much? What color do you plan to
get? Available options were white and
gold. But wait! More choices: here's a red. And now here's one that blends white and
gold within the same strand! More
choices! And here’s yet another
choice: fat strands, or thin
strands! OMG, we’re back to the light
bulb conundrum!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Well,
we didn’t figure it out on the first trip, but figure it out we did, and by the
end of Sunday night we had a tree fully decorated with lights and garland, and
had begun making strides hanging ornaments.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a5M3eb4HSjk/Vmy4SS-PSrI/AAAAAAAACPM/IofrI1DL2OM/s1600/00%2BGarland%2Blight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a5M3eb4HSjk/Vmy4SS-PSrI/AAAAAAAACPM/IofrI1DL2OM/s320/00%2BGarland%2Blight.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Garland vs. thin mini light vs. toy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">This
is another point of potential conflict, by the way. My favorite ornaments are the cheap, round, reflective
thin glass ones, the kind that tinkle and break if the cat so much as glances
in its direction. Deborah favors “toy
style” ornaments—little nutcrackers and drummer boys and that sort of
thing. We’re working it out, so far without therapy. I image our difficulties will be settled as they
always have been, and that is to say without serious bloodshed. I qualify the statement the with the word “serious”
because there always are one or two causalities among the glass ornaments
thanks to the cats, and since these are her least favorite, and since the cats
and her dote on each other and are fast allies... well I think you get my
drift.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-akuZPpo_6X8/VmzJGa05FXI/AAAAAAAACPc/dAQwzRwhCrk/s1600/00%2Bfitted%2Btree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-akuZPpo_6X8/VmzJGa05FXI/AAAAAAAACPc/dAQwzRwhCrk/s320/00%2Bfitted%2Btree.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">I
do find it interesting that CVS managed to get all of our Christmas tree
business this year. I mean, they had
enough supplies to outfit exactly one tree in our preferred style. One. We
got their last usable strands of lights and their last garland. As
noted, she is a fan not of the big, fat, frilly, tasteless garland, but tightly
wrapped, slightly understated garland. She hasn’t been able to find exactly
what she wanted in, like, ever, until
this year, when she ran into a CVS that
had exactly what she wanted in the way of garland– tightly woven strands of
gold mixed in with the white. CVS had
just enough strands to make it work – interestingly, this one particular store
also had exactly enough Christmas lighting to make a tasteful a top-to-bottom
covering, too. So, it gets all our
Christmas tree business this year. How
about that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Let’s
see, what’s on the social and medical front this afternoon – <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Medically,
it’s been relatively quiet. Every
morning when I wake up it’s sort of a race to see if pain will start
setting up in my side on and right above
the spot where my kidney used to be. If
I get to the pain first and can administer my pain meds with alacrity, then
I’ll have a pain-free morning, and that is a damned good thing. Two delayed-release Oxycontin tabs does the
trick on that. But if I’m late, then
there is going to be some pain in store, which will mean difficulty in doing
just about anything for most of the morning. Fortunately, yesterday and today
were good mornings—not completely pain-free but close it. On a 10-point scale, about a 2.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Nausea, sad to to say, is raising its head again. I had another 'bout of it last night. So far its's nothing that seems too unmanageable. I have meds for this which work if I get enough advance warning. But that is the key.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Socially,
I have give a shout out to Mr. and Mrs. Joel and Lidia Allen. The two of them made a very generous donation
in honor of Deborah and me to the Interfaith Commnity Services Thanksgiving food
bank. This left me sort of speechless. We're not the kind of couple you’d think about as tending to attract anonymous
donations of that type, or at least, we never have been before. It’s a great cause, too. Deborah tells me the fund helps provide meals
for struggling families who are trying to put food on the table over the holidays. The Allens also have the two of us on a
prayer chain at their parish. I was
floored when I heard this. I certainly
don’t think of myself as being any particularly meritorious or deserving of
such attention (although Deborah certainly is) and the thought that someone
would do this in our honor just floors me.
It’s much appreciated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: 'times new roman', serif;">This
is by no means the first “prayer chain” that I’ve heard about, either, and I’m
getting fan mail, much of which is coming in from total strangers. Most of that
is in reaction to my fourth book, </span><i style="font-family: 'times new roman', serif;">My
Lifetime of Bizarre Coincidences and Strange Happenings</i><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', serif;">, and I probably
shouldn’t find it surprising given the theme of the book which is to try to
make the reader understand and appreciate some aspects of life that modern
societal forces try to suppress—such as, yes, the paranormal, precognitions,
and other themes and issues falling along those lines that might cause you to have a greater
appreciation of the wonder of life.
These phenomena are very real and many reputable scientists believe they
have meaning for the human spirit. Grab a
copy from Amazon.com; I wanted to get
the word out, so they’re priced about as cheaply as the vendors would let me
(yes, they do make us set minimum prices).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'times new roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times new roman, serif;">That's all the news for now!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times new roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times new roman, serif;">###</span><br />
<span style="font-family: times new roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times new roman, serif;">www.forrestcarr.com</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-33093587440673521132015-12-02T16:12:00.002-07:002015-12-02T16:40:44.818-07:00My Life and Medical Travails Wednesday December 2<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G4VVnh_sLV4/Vl9_Qf0OlsI/AAAAAAAACNo/zV9JOnV6Lj4/s1600/00%2BMy%2BThanksgiving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G4VVnh_sLV4/Vl9_Qf0OlsI/AAAAAAAACNo/zV9JOnV6Lj4/s200/00%2BMy%2BThanksgiving.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Well,
let me tell you a little bit about my Thanksgiving.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">First and foremost, I found that this Thanksgiving
at least, I was the ranking officer in the Carr household.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I know this because for the first time ever,
the family thanksgiving was held here, even though it was a tremendous inconvenience
to most members of the household to come here.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">There’s
a reason we did it that way, of course.
Barring a miracle (and as you know if you’ve been keeping up with this blog
or have read my book, few people believe in those more than me), this was my
last Thanksgiving. By this time next
year it’s very likely that cancer will have gotten the better of me. But I’m not looking for another one. The miracle I’m looking for out of this situation
has already arrived – specifically, through inexplicable premonitions I somehow
got word of what was going on in time to quit my day job and work on the novels
I wanted to write while I still had the personal stamina to do it. I published all three and all three got good
critical and reader reviews. Book #4, My
Lifetime of Weird Coincidences and Strange Happenings, was extra. It tells the true-life stories of the
premonitions and precognitions that led to all this—incidents that may or may
not have been paranormal in nature (I leave that to you do decide). It’s written with the hope that the book can do for others what the
incidents in it have continually done for me—and that is inspire the reader for
a greater enjoyment of and passion for life, partially through exploration of
little “coincidences” and other remarkable incidents that may look paranormal
at first blush but really are a basic part of the human experience.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Now,
I don’t know about you, but I know that a lot of families decide who is going
to host the clan thanksgiving on the seniority system. In some families, cooking the dinner is
considered to be the honor; in those cases, the “mom” with the most kids in the
house or the most kids available to come over to partake in the meal
cooks. In other families, the senior mom
in the clan gets to make the choice of whether to cook or not. It varies from place to place. In our little clan for the past several
years, my sister Amy, who has three kids, has hosted the Thanksgiving
meal. This year, with one of her kids
working out of town and the other about to start a job out of town, she was
planning only a very small gathering. I
was invited, of course, but for reasons discussed earlier in this blog decided
that I couldn’t make it. We didn’t
suggest hosting Thanksgiving at my house not only because Deborah has had to
work very hard over the past few weeks on work projects, but also because I am
getting to be more and more of a burden although I am not quite an
invalid. But every day Deborah has to
worry about what I’m going to eat and so on.
It does get to be a burden and as Thanksgiving approached, so did her
project deadlines at work. So due to the
physical toll on her, we didn’t offer to host thanksgiving.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">So
what do you think Amy did? Well, anyone
who knows her could have predicted it. She
offered to bring Thanksgiving to me and my wife, lugging the whole thing here
turkey, lock, stock, and barrel.
Well. How could we or anyone else
say “no” to that?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SMW6-MzO1Vs/Vl9_lEFn3RI/AAAAAAAACNw/Acb6ZaXYGxo/s1600/12299137_10206858378871322_4159448373448706251_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SMW6-MzO1Vs/Vl9_lEFn3RI/AAAAAAAACNw/Acb6ZaXYGxo/s320/12299137_10206858378871322_4159448373448706251_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Concannons</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">But
wait. She wasn’t done. Amy arranged for all three of my nieces and
nephews to be here despite the fact that two had jobs in another city—and one
had a fianceé, whom he brought with him, a lovely young lady whom Deborah and I
were delighted to meet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Nothing
went precisely as planned; various logistical problems arose and were
solved. Debbie and I live in a rental house
that is nice for us but starts to get cramped in terms of seating arrangements,
especially for TV viewing, at four people.
No problem. Amy’s husband Tim drives
a Yukon.
He slung a couple of big extra chairs into the back of that thing and
brought them down – problem solved. We
also wound up ordering the turkey and some trimmings locally rather than trying
to drag it cross country, but that simply opened up room for some side dishes
to be brought in from California. The
result was a sumptuous meal with all the trimmings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">When
all was said and done I guess you can call it my best Thanksgiving ever. Don’t get me wrong – it was still a lot of
work for Deborah, and I’ll still have to find a way to make that up to her. But she enjoyed it too, of course. We’ve never had that much family packed into
our house before, and I for one had a ball.
The highlight for me was a game of Trivial Pursuit, which I am of course
telling you about now only because I won it.
Ha!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">We
haven’t made plans for Christmas yet. I’m
sure this will be quieter. It’ll no
doubt be my last Christmas as well but that also means that it’ll be my last chance for a
quiet “just the two of us” Christmas together with Deborah. My travel prospects have not gotten any
better. In fact, they’re getting
worse. When we go to the grocery store
now I can barely make it up and down all the aisles before having to throw in the towel and call it
quits and go to Starbucks to sit, mainly because of pains shooting down my
sides and across my back. Sitting in
this chair and writing this blog is getting to be likewise uncomfortable; I don’t
know how much longer I’m going to be able to keep that up, either. And I really have to guard myself against
fainting when standing. But so far I can
at least walk from point A to point B if the distances are short. All of those conditions are slowly
deteriorating and I’d be lying to you if I didn’t admit that I sort of dread what
might lie down the road. It’s an unknown
and not a reality I’m eager to embrace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">But
in the meantime, let me raise a toast to the best Thanksgiving I’ve ever had,
and to the people who love me who made it possible. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">###<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">P.S. Happy Birthday today to my lovely bride, Deborah.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">www.forrestcarr.com<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-11888605732544123122015-11-24T16:04:00.000-07:002015-11-24T16:11:10.472-07:00Medical Travails Postscript Tuesday November 24<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">As
it turns out, my mention of the possibility of traveling over the Thanksgiving
holiday got me in a bit of trouble.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">After
my last blog entry on the subject I heard from my hospice nurse. She had
no idea I was thinking about going out of town for Thanksgiving. Not to
put too fine a point on it, I got spanked. Not a bad one, but it was definitely
a trip to the woodshed. I am, she pointed out, in </span><i style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">hospice</i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">care</i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">.
Someone like me doesn't just pull up stakes, hit the road and start
rubbernecking. Her concerns were all the same as those I'd already
expressed, and they all boil down to the same thing: what if some kind of
medical emergency were to arise while I am on the road? Apparently the routine
is to arrange in advance with another hospice agency to be ready to step in and
take care of me in that eventuality. But if I'm going to be gone for more
than one week they actually ask the hospice patient to resign the care temporarily
and signup with the hospice agency in the area to which I'll be
traveling. Can you beat that? At any rate it sure drove home the
seriousness of my situation. It’s almost like now, in addition to
everything else, I have to worry about a tree trunk falling on me, or something
worse.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Another
medical development today—I now have oxygen in the house, consisting of two
emergency bottles and an oxygen generator.
This is to guard against my next
hard breathing/panic attack, of which I had another relatively mild one on
Wednesday. It wasn’t a bad one (thank
God) but was it was severe enough to get my attention. The aftermath leaves me with a tightness of
breath across my chest and abdomen, which is no fun, and also with a line of
pain across the top of my back. It’s
usually gone within 12 hours, though.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Company
is coming tomorrow, so I probably won’t write for a couple of days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">###<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-49295701768450206352015-11-22T18:02:00.000-07:002015-11-24T16:13:17.837-07:00Medical Travails Sunday November 22<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y0jxLfsEI9c/VlJkA3wIcLI/AAAAAAAACNI/7VTcIHemn40/s1600/00%2BFinal%2BWord.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y0jxLfsEI9c/VlJkA3wIcLI/AAAAAAAACNI/7VTcIHemn40/s200/00%2BFinal%2BWord.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Well,
as of this week I can feel a little bit less like a bum. My first social security disability check
arrived. So instead of getting paid
nothing to sit around the house and catalogue my various aches and pains, I now
have a steady stream of income to compensate me for that. I think that is pretty nifty. And it’s not like there’s no real work
involved. New aches and pains raise
their heads to be catalogued every single day.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I
still really have no idea how much longer I have to be around this tired old
planet. I’m not kidding about the aches
and pains; new ones seem to arise every day while old ones fade away or take a
back seat. The theme for most of this
week has been pain across my lower back, where my left kidney used to be. (The bastards took it out and didn’t even give
me anything useful in return for it, damn them, leaving me with a hole good for
nothing except collecting the occasional ache, sometimes acute). This week the major line of pain has
dissipated somewhat, but in its place are spiking pains descending my side in
paths parallel to it. These pains can
be quite sharp when trying to get up in the morning, or when I get up in the
middle of the night to answer one of my pain alarms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">A
pain alarm, in case you’ve missed it in one of the previous narratives, is a
smart phone alarm that goes off reminding me to take a pain medication, of
which I have three – Oxycotin delayed release, Dilaudid for short-term pain
relief, and Lorazapam for pain and anxiety.
The anxiety is no laughing matter; if I let that get out of control,
that’s when I start feeling shortness of breath, which is a truly awful
feeling. The medications are set on a
schedule, the theory being that if you stay on top of the schedule it’s much
easier to deal with the pain than if you get behind and have to play
catch-up. As far as I can tell the
theory is sound, but it does require me to get up every four hours on the maximum
(sometimes every 2 hours) to take the medication. A good morning is when I wake up feeling at
least somewhat refreshed, with no lingering pain. A bad morning falls short of that to one
degree or another, and a really bad morning falls short by several degrees. There have been more bad mornings of late
than I’d wish for, which is why I say my condition may be deteriorating. But if so, it’s deteriorating now on the
government’s clock, which suits me fine.
(Now here Social Security defenders may be tempted to point out that
this is my money, not the government’s money, because I invested it for my
benefit it over a period of many years, etc, and so on. I won’t argue except to point out that if
such statements were true then the system would not be in the process of going
slowly broke, which it most definitely is doing. Besides which, at one point it definitely <i>was </i>my money. I saw it there listed on my pay stub, where they had to acknowledge
that I’d earned it before snipping it right out and making off with it to give
it to someone else, those sly devils.
Now I’m getting money that they robbed from someone else’s paycheck to
give to me. See how that works?)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">So,
as if the advent of revenue from the good folks at the Social Security Administration
alone isn’t enough of a reminder that the End is Nigh, another chore that the
wife and I took care of this week provides more weight. We had to arrange for wills. That’s right, Final Wills and Testaments –
for the <i>both</i> of us. I did not initially see the need even for one
will, but people who are smarter about this kind of thing than I am convinced
me of the wisdom of having wills in place in order to expedite everything than
needs expediting. After all, there are
not one but five different short-term scenarios; me dying leaving Deborah as
the sole survivor is the most likely scenario but is just one of five things
that can happen, and we have to be ready for each one. Well, bring it on. We met with an attorney this week for that
purpose. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Next
up: funeral homes. Is anyone going to think it inappropriate of
me if I refuse to take part in planning for my own cremation and/or
burial? I mean, sheesh. Being dead sucks but the process of dying
sucks worse. I’m willing to make a
deal: I won’t die, and no one has to
carry out funeral arrangements. How does
that sound? No muss, no fuss for
anyone. So far I haven’t found anyone
who thinks such a deal is workable. I
have other ideas. I ran one by Deborah
involving a really cheap cremation service and a flush toilet, but she wasn’t
interested in hearing more about that. Me,
I’m for saving every penny. But I
suppose it’s true that when I’m gone, they’re no longer my pennies, so I guess
I should quit worrying about it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The
one thing that makes all this bearable is the continual stream of well wishes I
get from friends and family via phone, email, Facebook and whatnot. I am still hearing from folks who have not previously contacted me, or for whom it’s been a
while. The outpouring of affection and
love in some of these messages is nothing short of amazing. I won’t embarrass anyone by naming names but
you know who you are! God bless you, one
and all. You make my day and you do it
continually.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">In
a roundabout way this brings us to our next family crisis: what to do with Thanksgiving. You may recall that my last trip to
California was conducted without incident.
I stayed off the meds, didn’t suffer any inordinate amount of pain, and
drove myself, with Deborah as backup.
Now I’m at the point where I have to drive myself to the mailbox in
order to avoid a painful walk of about 400 paces. There is no question about driving
myself to California; it just ain’t gonna happen. I wake up every morning not knowing what
aches and pains will be setting themselves up, but I do know that there will be
some, and perhaps many. There will be no
avoiding the pain meds over Thanksgiving.
So, Deborah could still drive me to California with me hanging out in
the passenger seat, but then that begs another question: what happens if I get a sudden
breathing/panic attack? What happens if
I get faint headed and pass out, which has nearly happened several times in
recent weeks? What if any number of
other possible medical emergencies take place?
After all, I am on hospice care, which assumes that the worse, not the
best, is around the corner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The
alternative is to have my California relatives drive down to Tucson, but they
outnumber us and to be honest my rental house is not as comfortable as Amy’s
home, not by a long shot and especially not when crammed with visitors. Yet am I really ready to say that I’m not
going to see my sister and her family under non-trying circumstances ever again?
That my last trip to California was indeed the last one I’ll ever make? That would seem like a shame since death
certainly does not seem to be imminent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">See,
these are the questions I wrestle with, and so far I have no good or consistent
answers. What we’ve decided is that she,
her husband and one of my nephews will make the trip. We will embrace one another perhaps not in
the glow of perfect creature comfort, but in the busom of God’s love, as he
intends for all of us. I don’t think
anyone can wish for better than that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">###</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-14516605490613811522015-11-14T17:31:00.001-07:002015-11-14T17:41:07.905-07:00Medical Travails Saturday November 14<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2tdXe4eMAnU/VkfRN0t8UQI/AAAAAAAACMg/6VsMFVriF8I/s1600/00%2BblOG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2tdXe4eMAnU/VkfRN0t8UQI/AAAAAAAACMg/6VsMFVriF8I/s320/00%2BblOG.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Another
CARE package has arrived at the Carr household.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I could have told</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">you who sent it
from the address alone:</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">the package was
sent to the attention of </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">“Forrest Carr
News Director and Brother.”</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Of course, I’m
not</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">news director to anyone to whom I’m actually also a
brother, except in spirit only.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">That
narrowed the choice of senders down considerably. I</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> won’t embarasss him here by telling you who
it is, but suffice it to say that when I worked with him in Florida TV</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">news, we had a very close and productive
relationship.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The
package itself shows the man is hip to my current needs. It’s stuffed to the rims with candy. As regular readers to this blog know, my
sweet taste buds are about the only ones that have survived chemo and radiation
and painkillers and all the other indignities they heap on you in the name of
trying to eradicate cancer from your body.
I can taste most meat but very blandly.
But Milky Ways, Snickers, M&M’s, Butterfingers, Kit-Kats, and you
name what else are completely undiminished in their enjoyment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">They’ve
also helped me reach my weight goals. My
doctor was very worried about my weight for a while there. I was under strict orders to eat as much as I could and to take on the
pounds. Toward this end I was prescribed
an appetite enhancing steroid, the theory being that every ounce of weight you
take on is a victory against cancer, which wants to take it away from you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Well,
I’m here to tell you that the candy and
steroids tactic have done the trick. I
now weigh more than I ever have before in my life. In fact, I intend to cut down. But not all at once.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7tOVHiYoKBs/VkfRf6IqxfI/AAAAAAAACMs/2MvZAcK_OhQ/s1600/DSC_0049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7tOVHiYoKBs/VkfRf6IqxfI/AAAAAAAACMs/2MvZAcK_OhQ/s320/DSC_0049.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">With
the package came some nourishment for the soul as well, a pamphlet entitled <i>Keep Calm and Trust God </i>by Jake and
Keith Provance<i>. </i>Interestingly, it’s about the same size
and word count as my fourth book, <i>My
Lifetime of Weird Coincidences and Strange Happenings</i>, and even touches on
some of the same themes, particularly the need to grasp every moment, hold it
to your breast and cherish it like it may be your last. Because it well might be.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Speaking
of which, I got my statement back from Amazon and I have to say “thank you” to
the many people who’ve been buying my books lately. It’s much, much appreciated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Medically,
there’s not much else to report. Some
days I think I’m losing ground in the fight against rising pain levels; other
days, I’m not so sure. Yesterday I was
feeling so bad that I decided to put my head down and go back to sleep for a
while. I slept until 4pm in the
afternoon. I sort of hate doing that but
I did get up feeling refreshed and pain-free.
Those are good feelings. But I
have not slept so late in decades. I
have a feeling it won’t be the last time I do that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">So
once again tonight I find myself in the position of publicly thanking someone
for reaching out to me. To my Florida
brother-in-arms and his lovely bride, let me extend heartfelt thanks and let you
know that your words do mean the world to me.
I will abide by them, keeping calm and trusting God.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
###</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-35806489697206807692015-11-11T11:33:00.000-07:002015-11-11T19:28:07.780-07:00My Father, the Veteran<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NvEc79xmjEA/VGJUgh-Ai8I/AAAAAAAABHg/jqTCvQg5ZFU/s1600/My%2BFather%2BThe%2BVet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NvEc79xmjEA/VGJUgh-Ai8I/AAAAAAAABHg/jqTCvQg5ZFU/s200/My%2BFather%2BThe%2BVet.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>I can't believe a whole year has gone by! Here is a re-post of my Veterans' Day tribute to my father, Frank Carr.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My late father didn’t live long enough to hear Tom
Brokaw refer to men and women of his time as “The Greatest Generation.” Had he done so, I’m sure Dad would have
embraced the idea—not because of anything he’d done himself, but because of
those with whom he’d served and whose valor he’d witnessed personally.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Frank Pearce Carr, Army Serial Number 01 010 262,
had just turned 23 when he signed up for the National Guard in Memphis in 1939. His Army papers list his civilian occupation variously
as an office equipment salesman and as a meter reader. When war erupted, Dad, who had two and a half
years of college under his belt, applied for Officer Candidate School in Fort
Knox and was accepted. In May of 1942 he
won the rank of lieutenant and was assigned to a unit of lightly armored M5A1
Stuart tanks. The Army sent him to the
Pacific.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The war changed my father’s life. But you wouldn’t have heard that from
him. The whole time I knew Dad, he spent
maybe a grand total of ten minutes talking about his experiences. I learned that he had served on islands with
such strange-sounding names as Eniwetok, Kwajalein, Saipan and Tinian. He told me that he’d had two very close
calls, including one incident where a Japanese-fired round hit his tank turret,
causing him permanent hearing damage in his left ear (for which he did not
receive a Purple Heart). That was
it. He just didn’t talk about it.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aGknvSNpMRs/VGJTidRBiWI/AAAAAAAABHM/2tvRfEYVB7E/s1600/Frank%2BCarr%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aGknvSNpMRs/VGJTidRBiWI/AAAAAAAABHM/2tvRfEYVB7E/s320/Frank%2BCarr%2B2.jpg" width="225" /></a></span></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lt. Frank Carr, U.S. Army</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I learned on my own that Saipan was one of the
most important battles of the Pacific. It
put our B-29 </span><span style="font-size: small;">bombers within range of the Japanese home islands for the first
time, which marked the beginning of the end for Japan. Japanese Vice Admiral Chuichi Nagumo, who’d
led the attacks on Pearl Harbor and Midway, committed suicide there rather than
face capture. 3,426 American servicemen
died taking Saipan.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After he passed away in 1986, my mother gave me Dad’s
Army papers. There I found a priceless
document that filled in some of the details of his experiences. After his return from Saipan, the Army had him
give a talk to freshly minted tank officers at Fort Knox. His
remarks were transcribed. I now held the
transcription in my hands.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My father’s unit, Company D of the 766th Tank Battalion,
participated in a fight on Saipan known then, and now, as the “Battle of Dead
Man’s Valley.” By this point, he’d been field-promoted
to captain (a rank that was made permanent on his discharge in 1946.) Here is what he said about his part of
it. “Of the 900 men sent in, only 100
survived.” He describes the terrain he
and his fellow soldiers were ordered to attack as a valley one mile long and
900 yards wide, and says the Japanese defenders on higher ground had plotted
their artillery and mortar fire well in advance. “I lost 4 out of 5 tanks in this
engagement—my tank being the only one to escape.” If you suspect that the experience of leading
a platoon of tanks into a battle from which his was the only one to roll out
again might impose an emotional burden, you are correct, as we’ll see in a
moment.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The talk was filled with useful advice—such as the
need for tank commanders to choose their routes carefully and make sure they
stopped only on flat ground. “I lost my
Ex. Officer and members of his crew when they tried to dismount from the
turret,” he said. The tank had been hit
after stopping on a hummock, which blocked the escape hatch located under the
tank.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Captain Carr said that toward the end of the
campaign, the Japanese began deploying 125-pound aerial bombs as mines. “They buried them in the ground except for
the detonator which stuck slightly above the surface. I won’t have to tell you our reaction after
relating an incident when a tank ran over one.
It blew the tank into the air, landed on its turret, then rolled over on
its side. All members of the crew were
killed.” He went on to describe the
conditions of their bodies, which I will not recount here.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Not mentioned in the talk was one of the few
incidents that he had related to me personally.
After watching a tank hit one of those bombs (I do not know whether it
was the one referenced above) my father had three choices: proceed fearlessly ahead, turn around, or
stop. He decided to stop. He had his men dismount, and then Army engineers
cleared the field. He told me they found
a detonator sticking out of the sand about a foot in front of his left tank
tread. If he’d given any order other
than to halt, he and his entire crew would have been killed. Others might have been as well.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dad describes dispassionately one other incident on
Saipan that nearly cost him and his crew their lives, when his retreating tank
came under attack from Japanese gunners firing 75mm rounds. “The shells were dropping just behind me
until I was crossing the last ridge before getting under cover. A shell exploded under the engine compartment
and blew me out of the turret. None of
my crew was seriously injured.”</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This talk was devoid of emotion. But his first letter home after the
engagement was very different. He wrote
his father, “My boys particularly distinguished themselves especially on July
7th, the day of the great... counterattack at Tanapag Harbor, of which you will
read and hear more of later. We were
thrown into the breach with orders to hold to the last man, and we held. I offer the fact that I am able to write this
letter as evidence that we held!” I
offer this essay as evidence of same. He
added, with obvious pride, “I wish you could have seen that sight, Dad!”</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Later in that letter he adds the following. “I did nothing in particular to distinguish
myself. But I can bask forever in the
reflected glory of Co. D, 766 Tank Bn.
My officers and men were wonderful.
I feel an intense pride in commanding such a splendid body of men. As you know, I formed this company last
October, trained it, and it is a great personal satisfaction to lead it in
combat, and to strike a great blow for the good old U.S.A.”</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a-lcG7PfEdM/VGJTvp3OYMI/AAAAAAAABHU/HHwqQyUL9aQ/s1600/Frank%2BCarr%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a-lcG7PfEdM/VGJTvp3OYMI/AAAAAAAABHU/HHwqQyUL9aQ/s320/Frank%2BCarr%2B1.jpg" width="262" /></a></span></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Captain Frank Carr, U.S. Army</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My father would never lose his love for the “good
old U.S.A.” It was a major feature of
his character</span><span style="font-size: small;"> from that point forward. But
nor would he ever get over his experiences.
These days army doctors would have a fancy diagnosis for the emotional
storms that afflicted him the rest of his life.
But not back then. Although Dad
never talked about it with his kids, he confided to my mother than he could not
shake the feelings of guilt at having lost so many men under his command. This emotional burden manifested itself in
dramatic mood swings and verbal outbursts.
His first marriage did not survive the emotional buffeting. His second one, to my mother, did. She and her children forgave him for what
needed forgiving. Life went on.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">At the height of Dad’s post-war civilian career,
he was the general manager of a Chevrolet dealership in Memphis. He worked hard and did a good job of
providing for his family. But by any
measure, his was an unremarkable life.
He was just an ordinary man who had been thrust, for four amazing years,
into extraordinary circumstances. Captain
Carr won no medals, but he acquitted himself with honor, carrying out his duty,
and doing his part to save the free world from tyranny.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When he died, the White House sent us a
certificate of appreciation. “The United
States of America honors the memory of Frank P. Carr,” it reads. “This certificate is awarded by a grateful
nation in recognition of devoted and selfless consecration to the service of
our country in the Armed Forces of the United States." It bears the signature of “Ronald Reagan,
President of the United States.” </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The signature was mechanically rendered, of
course. But even so, Dad would have been
very proud of that certificate. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As am I.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">###</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
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<![endif]-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-26630336458038787222015-11-09T16:02:00.001-07:002015-11-09T16:02:45.530-07:00Medical Travails Monday November 9<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KDUbC6rya4w/VkElrxZ--oI/AAAAAAAACMA/PBBAMPh49NY/s1600/00%2BCottonmouth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KDUbC6rya4w/VkElrxZ--oI/AAAAAAAACMA/PBBAMPh49NY/s200/00%2BCottonmouth.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">So.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">I got bitten once by a baby water moccasin.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">Wanna hear about it?</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">Because apparently you’re gonna have to.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">What,
you may reasonably ask, does that question have to do with my sometimes-but-not-quite-daily
blog about my cancer battle? Hang
on. We’re going to get to all that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">First,
my sudden compulsion to tell you about this damned snake. I’ve promised to write about just about everything
as it relates to my medical journey even if I don’t always see the connection
myself. But here’s the thing. Over the past few weeks—for the last several
times as I’ve sat down to start this blog—I’ve developed an almost irresistible
urge to bring you the story of this snake—for no apparent reason
whatsoever. The compulsion is getting
worse, and to make matters even more bizarre, it’s not even a new
incident. This did not happen yesterday
or even in this century. So I’m going to
give in to it and see where it takes us.
And in doing so, one of the questions I’ll ask is this: is there a medical reason why the words and
phrases like the ones necessary to tell this story would suddenly pop into my
mind demanding my attention, and yours?
What, you didn’t know you were going to have to hear about baby cotton
mouth snakes today? (Even if you close
the blog now the subject has already been introduced to you and planted in your
mind, so I’m afraid you’re hosed. At
this point you’re doomed to either hear the full story or spend the rest of the
day cussing me for having introduced the subject, or trying to ignore
everything you’ve heard so far, or all of the above).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Do
you think that perhaps some other kind of whacky-do thing is going on
here? Are pain meds finally pushing me
over the bleeding edge? Does it concern
you—should it concern either of us—that for the past last several blog entries,
my fingers have been demanding to talk to you about cotton mouth snakes while I
valiantly held off and talked about something else, leading the blog in a
different direction?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
mean, what do baby cotton mouth snakes have to do with <i>anything</i>, especially as it pertains to a medical blog?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">No,
I’m not making this up. If I were making
it up I’d certainly come up with a subject a bit <i>more</i> bizarre and compelling, don’t you think? Such as:
folks: there is a poltergeist in
my house and it is telling me it won’t let me rest until I’ve told its story. Or, when I was four I saw a figure walk out
on the lake that I’m now quite certain was a mermaid. You know, that sort of thing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">But
none of that happened. This did happen
but it’s much more mundane. No new
poltergeists. No mermaids. But there was a cottonmouth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The
narrative phase from the climax of the story that wants to come out now, if I
were to write it down now and give it to you, would be along the lines of,
“Predictably, the baby cotton mouth promptly clamped down, whereupon I shook it
off my finger back into the water.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Okay,
see, the point here is not that there was no incident involving a baby cotton
mouth water snake clamping itself into my finger in desperate need of a
shake-off back into murky, dishwater warm lake water. There certainly was. The incident was real and I remember it well. The point is: where does this image keep coming from that
for the past several instances of wanting to sit down and write a blog, it
suddenly rises to the level of seeming to be a matter so urgent that I have to
let you know about it right this very moment?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">This
brings me back to my current medical condition as it relates to my cancer
diagnosis and the effect of meds on them—my mental word patterns are starting
to feel a bit weird to me now. Are they to you? As noted just now I wanted almost desperately to
write about this snake incident. And oh,
yes, I’m going to do it. And as I
finally break down and relate the story, ask yourself these questions: Where in the world did these images suddenly
come from? What made them pop into my mind? What kind of reaction do
they set up in you? I mean, do you have a thing about snakes? Does any of this make you cringe? Wanna laugh? Cry? Swoon? It's part of what I've been
telling you about lately, where unaccountable images fly in and out of my
brain, arriving for no reason and departing the same way. And here’s
another question: This event really did
happen, but I have other, even better snake stories I <i>could</i> be telling you, such as the time a four foot cottonmouth fell
into a boat <i>with</i> me. Why no compulsion to tell that story?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Well,
here it is, the true-life account of my encounter with a baby water
moccasin. It happened when I was
swimming in the back yard down by the lake where I grew up. A little mini
pontoon paddle wheel boat had floated up to our dock after a big summer storm.
I looked down and saw a tiny snake wiggling along the deck in a pool of
rainwater. I knew instantly what it was but I thought it was too small to
be harmful. It was SO CUUUUUUTE, only
about eight inches long, having just emerged from its mother, apparently. I was maybe 9 years old? So what
do? What do you think I did? With my cousin and friend urging me
not to do it, I reached down and picked it up. At which point it promptly
bit me. I jerked my hand back; the snake went flying into the water, and
that was the end of that encounter with that snake for all eternity. (I
presume it’s dead by now. Well, I’m not
doing so great myself, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call us even-steven).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Examining
my hand, I could not help but notice two
very tiny, very neat little rips in my skin where the fangs had gone in. That got my attention. There was no blood, however.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Now,
as noted, this snake was very small, maybe five inches long, eight max. The body parts were tiny, and the relative
velocity between its head and my fingertips was so fast that I assumed there was
little chance that any venom had been injected, if the snake were even old enough
to have yet developed venom in the first place. It struck me as a cute
little feller, not a killer, so I did not report this to parental authorities. No harm, no foul, right? Plus, the thought did occur to me that I
would look pretty stupid and could get into serious trouble for fooling around
with a live water moccasin (a water moccasin is a pit viper kissin' cousin to a
rattlesnake or copperhead) even if it was just eight inches long. In retrospect, of course what I should have
done, and would I do next time, I told myself, was to do the adult thing and
stay the hell away from it. Because that
is what responsible people do. Lesson
learned and no one needed to be the wiser.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Right.
A nine year old idiotic kid is going to be a nine year old idiotic
kid. That is one of the basic laws of nature. Lucky for me no
venom went in and I did not get sick. I
can't testify about the how the snake felt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Why
am I writing about this now? Who
knows? Maybe someone out there in snake
land needs to know <i>right now </i>that water moccasin babies emerge directly from the
mother fully ready to rock and roll, and are not necessarily harmless. Consider yourself on notice. My work is done here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">What
else is done here is my compulsion to bring up the subject of poisonous cotton
mouth snakes. Funny how that works. We can now put this compulsion to bed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Meanwhile,
my pain meds are still having me twitch every this way and that with little
myoclonic jerks and what not. So what are we left with, medically
speaking?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">(1)
Strange scenarios that pop into and out of out of my brain that may or may not
have an actual significance or connection to anything at all.... <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">(2)
Weird pains that set themselves up and then disappear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">(3)
Bizarre flights of fantasy that leave me wondering if I'm going nutsy
cookoo.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Today
was nurse day and my nurse wants to up my pain meds at night just a little bit
now, in hopes that I will not wake up in the middle of the night in pain as
much as I have been over the last two weeks.
That starts tonight, the belief being that if you get ahead of the pain
early on, you’ll stay ahead, but if you fall behind then it’s harder to catch
up. Wish me luck. Oxycontin delayed release x2 here I come.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I'd
better sign off this blog entry off before it gets any more out of control. Meanwhile, I’ll be looking out for other
bizarre compulsions to tell you about.
Let’s hope I don’t find any! Or
if I do, maybe it’ll be about something more fun, like egg-sucking hound dogs
or something like that (there is such a thing in the rural south, I’m here to
tell ya, although it’s been a long time since I’ve encountered one. About as long as the encounter with the baby
cottonmouth!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">###<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-48742656958104446562015-11-03T16:14:00.003-07:002015-11-03T16:14:36.219-07:00Medical etc. Tuesday November 3<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">It
was a another somewhat fitful night last night as back pain set up where my
left kidney used to be, and didn’t want to leave me be.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">But I finally got past it with “prns”--an
extra dilaudid pill logged as “pain relief as needed.”</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">I am finding that if I lie on my side when
the pain is at its worst, it does subside and I can get back to sleep.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">Still, this new development is not welcome as
it causes me to up my pain meds which in turn causes me to be partially zonked
during the day. </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">(I don’t mind being
zonked during the night!)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Yesterday
was nurse day. Judging from the color of
my eyelids and surrounding tissues she’s pretty sure I’m becoming anemic. This
would be no surprise if true; all my taste buds related to red meat are dead or
are on strike, so I’ve had very little appetite for it. If it weren’t for chicken I don’t know what I’d
do. I have discovered an item at Wendy’s
that I didn’t know about. Without
looking at the menu the other night I asked for a “crispy chicken sandwich” and
what I got was a kid’s </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">entreé </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">about half the size of their adult sammiches. Two of those perfectly match my appetite and
they are quite tasty to my current buds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The
nurse also wants me to eat eggs. Who
knew eggs could help with anemia? My
taste buds are about 50% effective on egg, bacon, and cream cheese
products. Plus, cooking bacon is messy,
and I’m loathe to fix eggs without also making bacon. However,
Deborah showed me how to prepare bacon in the microwave, where there’s far less
after odor and no skillet to clean up afterwards. So we’ll see.
Two eggs, four strips of bacon does not sound like too daunting a
challenge for breakfast or lunch—provided I can stand long enough to prepare
the meal. Yes, it has come down to these
kinds of questions and I was pushing it today getting through the cooking process
for lunch. And then the entreé was only
half as tasty as I remember that bacon and eggs ought to be. *sigh*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The
last of the book reviews I’ve been waiting for in regards to <i>The Dark</i> is now in, and it’s largely
very good. I’ll be promoting it tomorrow
or the next day. The book currently has
a 4.9 rating with Amazon readers, with more than a dozen reviews posted, and that is outstanding. There will be sporadic promotions for the
last two books over the weeks ahead but no more writing on new projects, I
think, other than this blog. I’ve pretty
much decided to call it quits with the publication of book #4, <i>Weird
Coincidences</i>. I did not submit that
one for outside editorial reviews, but if you read it and liked it, then
reader-posted reviews on Amazon.com are <i>always</i>
welcome.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">That’s
four books, folks. Four books published
after taking a sabbatical where I said I’d publish at least three. I don’t feel too shabby about that, although
I sure hate the diagnosis that came with it.
I am grateful, however, that my energy levels at least did last long
enough for me to get that last one out. Given what it tries to say about the value and joy of life, that last book may have been the reason for everything.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">###<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-35448223426076971562015-11-01T19:38:00.003-07:002015-11-01T19:38:56.223-07:00Medical Travails Sunday November 1<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">As
those who’ve taken time to read my latest book, </span><i style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">My Lifetime of Weird Coincidences</i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">, know, weeks, months, sometimes
years can pass by without anything noteworthy or “reportable” springing up in
the way of strange or possibly “paranormal” happenings.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">But now, several weeks after publication of
the book, I finally do have something interesting and </span><i style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">new</i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> to point out and report.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">A
few days ago snippets of the musical <i>Oklahoma</i>
began playing themselves out in my head.
There was no discernible reason for it, really. I simply found musical
quotes from the production or related to it occasionally playing out in my
mind. The snippets would always be
brief, and then my mind would go on to other things, by which I mean that other
seemingly useless snippets of random thoughts about this, that or the other
would start up and take the place of the musical. Two
things are noteworthy here. One, I
realize this is considered to be one of the great musicals of all time, but as
a general rule I am not a huge fan of musicals, so there is no obvious reason
why my mind would come to or dwell on this subject or this particular production. Second, not all the Oklahoma related material
playing out in my mind was directly from the movie. In fact, many of the scenes had nothing directly
to do with the movie at all, which I’ve seen but not in many years. For instance, one of the “snippets” was an
incident recalled from many years ago when a friend of mine thought it would be
the height of hilarity to wake me one morning during a visit to his family’s lake
lodge by putting the track “Oh What a Beautiful Morning” on the stereo at full
volume. I’ve never forgotten that, and now here I was, replaying
that scene over in my mind several mornings in a row. Then there’s the scene in
the movie <i>When Harry Met Sally</i> where
the two of them sing one of the numbers (“The Surry with the Fringe on Top”)
via an electronics store karaoke machine, and then get busted when Harry’s
ex-wife walks in with her new husband. Earlier
this week that scene, too, began playing out on my mental movie screen for no
obvious reason.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">But
then just recently the reason became apparent.
It turns out, the movie is marking a major anniversary milestone (it’s
60th). It also turns out that
significant parts of the movie were shot here in Southern Arizona, for which
the University of Arizona built what amounts to a mobile corn field. And how do I know all this? Because the
<i>Arizona Daily Star</i> just <a href="http://tucson.com/entertainment/movies/th-anniversary-of-oscar-winning-musical-is-more-than-ok/article_17d933f0-9760-54f7-86c5-2ea9a473b5d8.html" target="_blank">ran a major feature about the anniversary</a>, touting the fact that the parks and
rec department is running a screening of the movie today at its Green Valley
facility. Now, keep in mind I have seen
no other publicity items related to this movie anywhere until the <i>Star</i> piece came out. There was nothing external to place it on my
mental agenda. It simply popped up in my
mind completely on its own.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">That
said, I’m sure skeptics would say that I must have seen something somewhere
about the movie, and had filed the information away in my subconscious, waiting
to be acted on by conscious processes. Is that what happened? You can buy that “rational” explanation if
you want, but there are other possibilities, such as the one that might have
been offered by early 20th Century scientist Carl Jung, as discussed in my book. Jung gave these phenomena a name (“synchronicity”)
but did not try to explain how these strange coincidences happened. He did,
however, declare that they do happen and that they have human
significance. What that significance
might be in this case, I have not a clue, except that it is making me think
about this blog again, and caused me to take action on it, resulting in today’s
entry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
spent several hours yesterday and the day before re-reading the blog of my late
colleague Warren Elly, who, like me, had metastatic abdominal cancer and <a href="https://thewayforwardnow.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">decided to write about it</a>. One of the questions that’s arising and keeps
on nagging me is the question of how often I should contribute to mine. Warren wrote on his almost every day except
toward the end, when he suddenly tapered off.
There was no explanation, really, for the decrease, but it was clear
that fatigue was setting in and making life more difficult for him. But people did seem to hang on every word. And then his voice suddenly ceased.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">By
contrast I have not been contributing every day, and when I do write, I often touch on topics other than my terminal cancer. I think I've come to the conclusion that I should write about the medical aspects more often because people do seem interested in that. I'll make sure to make some medical reference in the blog title when I do. But even a medically-oriented entry may touch on other subjects from time to time, as this one does.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I’ve
been doing pretty well with pain and fatigue but last night was not a good
night. Sometimes pain will set up across
my lower back and when that happens it’s hard to shake. Like Warren, I have two “brands” or styles of
painkillers. One is a time-released
Oxycontin, which is supposed to make sure some pain fighting meds are in my
system at all times on the theory that once a given pain set fires up, it’s if
not dealt with immediately then it’s going to be much harder to knock down
later, which I believe is totally true.
The other pain meds are shorter lasting but quicker acting Dilaudid
tabs, which I am supposed to take on a certain schedule, and I do. But what happens if I’ve had both the
long-acting and the short acting doses and the pain has not gone away? That happened last night, and it led to a
long night. There is no obvious reason
why the pain would gang up on me in this manner but it did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">You
may recall, the last time this happened, my nurse decided to arrange for an in-house
visit to adjust my meds—“titrate” them
is one word they used. I suppose that is
something we could do again. Most of the
additional relief I’m needing is coming at night and I am allowed to increase
my dose on my own, which I did last night.
Additional medication of this type is called a “prn” dose—“pain relief as needed.” And it does help. But I’d be lying if I were to say that I didn’t
find the need to increase my dose in this manner troubling. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Fatigue
is also getting the better of me lately.
I’ll wake up just purely without the energy or drive to be able to do
what it was I wanted to do. The most
recent project along those lines was incredibly simple—just have Deborah drive
me down to the barber for a quick cut (scraggly hair lost to chemo has begun to
come back in) and then a quick grocery run.
Both about did me in from pain, fatigue and being winded. I had to go sit down in Starbucks and wait
for her to finish the grocery run. If
you follow the logic here I’ll be needing a wheelchair sooner or later—and believe me, that is not something I’ll
welcome.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">At
present I still do have sufficient energy to hit the keyboard and type this
blog. As long as I can do that, I’ll
continue to contribute. Don’t
necessarily panic if you don’t see something every day, though. To save up the energy needed to write this
blog today I wound up sleeping until 2:00 PM in the afternoon—scandalous. This is the “little old lady” scenario that’s
been planted in my mind by hospice advertisements—not by mine, I’m happy to say
(Casa de la Luz does not advertise as far as I can tell). But the last hospice commercial I saw
featured a hospice nurse hanging out beside a little old lady dressed all in
white linen looking dreamily out a window framed with white lace curtains—the implication
being that she was waiting for a peaceful passing that the hospice nurse was
going to help expedite somehow. Well, I
don’t know if sleeping until 2:00 PM in the afternoon advances me in that
direction or not, but it’s certainly something I have not done in ages, and I
did wake up pain free and with better energy.
I remain troubled by the fact that it certainly is not normal, and I
worry about what lies ahead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Last
thing before I wrap up today’s entry—I got
a visitor on Friday who was very welcome.
She brought me a couple of donuts from Dunkin’s—which I had been
craving. We had a very nice chat and it
was great to get up on the news and find out what is happening with her and our
mutual friends. I brought her up to date
on everything I just wrote you, and if she thought I’m a nut she was kind
enough not to say so. Friends like that
are always welcome, especially bearing food gifts!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">May God bless you and may you always be reminded of the wonderful things in your life to be cherished and held close to your heart, as I now am. Every day is a gift.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">###<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-64301371930677922512015-10-27T16:01:00.002-07:002015-10-27T16:10:20.264-07:00The Case of the Fabulously Fumbled FOIA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-va2kuArqvX8/VBnat_AcJzI/AAAAAAAABCM/EzQCsjQ_NFY/s1600/Info%2Brequest%2Bday%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-va2kuArqvX8/VBnat_AcJzI/AAAAAAAABCM/EzQCsjQ_NFY/s200/Info%2Brequest%2Bday%2B2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">What’s
surprising to me is not that the Department of Homeland Security, which is part
of the self-described “most transparent” administration in U.S. history, waited
a year to produce lame results to my Powertalk 1210 freedom of information request. The
surprise is that it produced any results at all. I mean, the response was so poor and so
meager, why bother at all?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">It
was obvious in August and September of last year when I started down this road
that DHS had no intention of shedding any light on its handling of the refugee
crisis that was flooding our southern borders at the time. Supposedly, under the law any time any
governmental event generates a document, you can have access to it as a member
of the public. Exceptions, of course,
are classified documents. The laws and
process at the federal level are not the same as the local. The federal law generally is referred to as
the “Freedom of Information Act” and is pronounced FOY’-ah, whereas there’s a
hodgepodge of state and local laws aimed to achieve similar purposes but which
have no teeth at the federal level.
Journalists usually refer to the local laws as “FOIA” laws as well but
this is not correct.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Last
summer I filed a FOIA request seeking to learn what DHS Secretary Jeh Johnson and his
administrators were saying to one another and to congressmen about the
crisis. <a href="http://thebashfulbloviator.blogspot.com/2014/09/okay-dhs-lets-do-narrow.html" target="_blank">DHS immediately rejected the request as being too broad. </a>Now, keep in
mind previous similar document requests on all kinds of subjects at the local level have resulted in
vigorous responses sometimes generating hundreds of pages of files; I can’t
tell you how many such requests I’ve handled throughout my career as a journalist, but I do not
recall a case where anyone tried to wiggle out of the work by complaining about
the number of documents involved. Sometimes
public officials will refuse to cooperate, but the vast majority do comply, and there
are systems within local government to support and expedite their responses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">So,
after being told that my request was too broad, I broke it up into 40 pieces,
each narrowly tailored to specific officials, and filed it again. At first DHS didn’t seem to know how to
handle that; the new requests were very narrow in scope, impossible to dismiss
as “overly broad.” What DHS did was to
deny expedited handing (the fact that Americans might like to have had this
information prior to the last congressional election did not impress DHS, which
specifically rejected this as a reason to hurry up the response). And that was the last I heard for a solid
year.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">This
past month, the behemoth awakened. A
woman named Maura Busch told me the FOIA filing case had been reassigned to her, and wanted
to know if I were still interested? She
assumed I might not be, telling me by
phone, “Since this is a year old sometimes reporters will say you know I have
ten more stories I’m working on now and I’ve moved beyond it.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">You
see how this works? It’s not rocket
science. You stonewall reporters by
stonewalling the reporter. Then you
might add a lame apology, as Busch did, who said, “Sorry, we just don’t have
enough people anymore.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
told her that sure, I absolutely was still interested. What she turned over to me did not come close
to meeting the scope of what I had requested.
There was an unidentified, unlabelled briefing document that looks to
have been prepared either for or by DHS Secretary Jeh Johnson, discussing the
crisis. And that’s it. Apparently no one else in government had
anything to say about the crisis as it was erupting and playing itself out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Yeah. Right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">How
do you think it would be if everyday citizens could simply blow off government
requests for information in a similar fashion—starting with, say, IRS
agents? That would be a different world,
wouldn’t it? But DHS gets to follow its own
rules because there are no enforcers.
There is no champion to make sure the administration carries out its
self-declared transparency “policy,” which of course is a policy in name only.
Did you know that FOIA applies not to news types, but also to private
citizens? But as a practical matter, unless
you’re a deep-pocketed news organization and have the legal budget to sue, you’re
screwed. And by the way, the next time
you see Associated Press or some other news organization mention the letters “FOIA,”
look at how many times the news story involves a lawsuit which the news guys
and gals had to win, at their expense, to bring you the information.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">As
for what was in the documents—very little.
The document author, presumably Johnson, expressed dismay that the
smugglers were telling the immigrants they were getting a “free pass,” words
which resonated with the refugees and had brought them here by the tens of
thousands. Johnson called this “misinformation”
and said it was “simply wrong,” almost in hurt tones. You can judge for yourself based on a year’s worth of news coverage whether
the refugees did or did not get a “free
pass” for crossing into the United States.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">But
one thing is clear. Journalists relying
on DHS to follow FOIA law are in for bitter disappointment. The attitude of DHS officials toward this so-called transparency ranges from indifference to outright hostility. And since this transparency "requirement" <a href="https://www.whitehouse.gov/the_press_office/TransparencyandOpenGovernment" target="_blank">comes directly from the top</a>, once again this reflects directly on the competence and ability of this administration to carry out it own so called initiatives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">###<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-36789634217394317202015-10-27T14:10:00.000-07:002015-10-27T14:10:22.577-07:00The Tucson Traffic GamePresented in honor of the latest round of Tucson accidents and fatalities that keep our city punching well above its weight in the arena of pedestrian safety. The latest one is so typical: pedestrian steps into traffic, in the dark, well outside of a crosswalk. We're building toward a record. The Star reports we've nailed 12 pedestrians so far this year--twice as many as by this time last year. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/L5AUtZBKTrs/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/L5AUtZBKTrs?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<i>© 2015 by Forrest Carr. All rights reserved.</i></div>
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-3378407368701836862015-10-24T16:32:00.001-07:002015-10-24T17:05:44.525-07:00Leaving Las Vegas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-05yOHs6p_KQ/VivnbZunnFI/AAAAAAAACLg/3UGgRNmd0iw/s1600/00%2Ba%2BlEAVING.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-05yOHs6p_KQ/VivnbZunnFI/AAAAAAAACLg/3UGgRNmd0iw/s200/00%2Ba%2BlEAVING.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">There
are, I suppose, good ways and bad ways to leave a job, especially if you’re
leaving involuntarily.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">In TV news the
different styles and methods by which people choose the exit door, or by which
they have the method of departure chosen for them, </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">practically constitute a spectator sport,
especially if the person leaving is in management.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">Which takes us to KVVU-TV in Las Vegas.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">KVVU
is the Fox affiliate in Sin City, and happens to be owned by the Meredith
company—which, in the interests of full disclosure, let me tell you is now in
the process of a merger with Media General, a company I used to work for. I won’t get into the merits of the firing
because I can’t; I know very little about Adam Bradshaw, the veteran and by most
accounts capable news director at the heart of our story. Rick Gevers’ weekly newsletter reveals to us that Bradshaw had
been news director there for about 9 years, which in TV terms amounts to a very
good run (news director years are roughly equivalent to doggie years, playing
out to an aging ratio of about one to four).
The day before the firing, the city had hosted the first Democratic
Presidential Debate, for which Mr. Bradshaw said his station pulled out all the
stops, as I’m sure it did. If you can
imagine putting together a coverage plan as aggressive as that that one had to
be, busting your butt to get it onto the air in such a fashion as to uphold
your personal pride and senses of competitiveness and professionalism, and then
hearing your boss say, “Thanks, now GTFO,” you might begin to understand a
little bit of what it’s like to be a TV news director. Nothing personal, just go, and don’t let the
door hit your butt on the way out. Or
do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The
level of animosity between the news director and his boss would seem to have
been low and mutual respect fairly high, because Bradshaw was not escorted from
the building and he did get in the final word, which was interesting. Now, if this were you and you know that you are going to be able to announce your own
departure to the staff, how would <i>you</i>
handle it—keeping in mind that whatever you say will remain writ large on the
Internet for all eternity? According
to multiple trade reports, here’s what
Adam wrote about his boss, Todd Brown, in a memo to the staff, which of course
then immediately hit the Internet: Bradshaw
said Brown “made the very classy offer to allow me to resign my position today,
but I declined and he chose to fire me. He and I have very different opinions
about how a News Department should run and we were never going to agree. I hold
no bitterness towards Todd for wanting what he wants and you should not either.
People move on in this business… I will
move on in this business.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">It’s
always risky to admit you’ve been fired, but on the other hand terminations are
so common for news directors that it probably will make no difference in Mr.
Bradshaw’s career aspirations. Looked at
that way, his words offering to simply move on are gracious—because a major
unstated point here is that he <i>will</i>
have to physically move on, and this is no minor imposition. With only 4 to 5 TV stations per market, news directors’ jobs are incredibly
competitive and hard to land, so getting fired is tantamount to being run out
of town. Like your apartment or
house? Too bad, so sad because the odds
are great that you’ll be giving it up as you search for that next gig, which
could take you far afield. You and your
family, and your dog, cat, parakeet, snake and gerbil, if you have such things,
will be moving on down the line. Fortunately,
we’re in a large country with lots of options.
If you’re going to be a news director you will move a lot, either
through having been shown the door by someone who thinks you’re not good enough or simply not the right person for whatever reason or because
someone in a bigger, more lucrative market is making <i>you</i> a better offer. Yes,
that happens too. You bet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">At
this point you may be dying to know what on earth is going on in that building that
after ten years the GM suddenly has to sh*t-can the news director over creative
differences. It’s incredibly common for
new bosses to want to bring in their own teams, but Brown isn’t new, having
already been GM for about three years according to reports. And
for that matter, what kind of creative differences could there be? How complicated can it be just to go out and
cover the damned news? Bradshaw chose
not to shed any light on that. While I
can’t testify as to the situation in that particular newsroom, I can certainly
tell you that pressures have never been higher to find new and different ways
to raise ratings and make a buck. If
you’ve paid any attention to local news at all in recent years (and many of you
haven’t, which is part of the problem) then you know that we’re hiring them younger and younger, we’re tolerating
more mistakes as a result, and there are fewer and fewer staffers out there
chasing real stories, which means that good stories often go begging while reporters
concentrate on those all-important police chases, murders, stabbings,
shootings, car wrecks and so on—basically, anything semi-compelling that can be
shot “one man band” style, with the reporter operating his or her own camera
and sometimes live gear. This is not
going to get better; it’s a simple matter of economics. A reporter can cover a one-stop-shopping
murder in an hour and then go on to two more just like it, and those stories
are going to capture the viewers’ attention at a far greater level than, say, a
much more expensive story about how radicalized politics and dark money are
taking this country down a dangerous path and what this means for <i>your</i> city, a story that is going to require
tons of research and interview effort and which cannot be turned in a single
hour, or maybe not even in a single week.
And oh, you’ll need to devote a bit more to the report in terms of
airtime than you were planning to devote to that one minute ten second murder
story. Just sayin’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">There
certainly are worse stylistic methods by which to cash out than what Bradshaw chose. I’ve seen them all and participated in a few
myself on both ends. Back in 2005 when
Media General and I parted ways, I gave interviews to local reporters about
what I saw as the truth of what was going on.
That was dumb and I was lucky it didn’t destroy my career; thankfully, I
still had fans after that who were willing to hire me for what they knew I
could bring to the table—for which I’m very grateful, because I had a blast in
that next gig. In fact, I wound up
working for that next company not once but for two additional times as my
career progressed. It’s the job I left most
recently in order to pursue my writing, which started out as what was intended
as a two-year career break in the face of premonitions that I was about to run
out of time, premonitions that turned out to be totally accurate thanks to a
cancer diagnosis. I left that job on
very good terms, I’m glad to say, and remain friends with my former coworkers
and bosses. Or, let’s put it this way:
those I was friends with as I walked out the door are still friends today. So whatever I said in my departure
note must not have been too bad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
do recall getting an outpouring of support, as did Adam Bradshaw, who racked up
dozens and dozens of well-wishes on his Facebook page. You can add my personal well wishes to those he’s received so
far; it’s never been tougher for a news director to successfully change jobs
than it is right now, thanks to the competitive pressures I mentioned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">As
I’m sure you can imagine, it takes a huge measure of trust to allow an employee
to issue a public goodbye “unsupervised” in this type of situation. These kinds of things have blown up big time
before, often enough to where you rarely see them anymore. This is why God invented security
guards. My personal favorite take-this-job-and-shove-it
gesture came from an anchor who announced, on air, that she was being fired,
and told viewers that they likely could catch her on a better competing station
soon. They couldn’t, and I don’t know if
she ever worked again; certainly she didn’t in that town. I know of others where unsavory accusations
have been bandied about (yes, live on air) by disgruntled people who felt
they’d been wronged in some fashion or other.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
once witnessed a GM order a terminated anchor physically escorted from the premises
by two—count ‘em, two—security guards, one of which was <i>armed</i>. Well, the employee had made some hotheaded comments about what could
happen if they were to try to pry his desk away from him, so there you go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">But
then not every on-air departure announcement winds up being planned. There was the classic case this year of an
Alaskan reporter who, having just admitted committing some egregiously
unethical conduct, F-bombed the audience, saying “F**k it, I quit,” live on the
air and then walked off the set. No one
saw that coming, and I’d venture to say it will never be topped.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">You
might guess from all this bad behavior that TV news pressures can get to be
incredible. Mix in the usual daily dose of crazy, add in some out-of-control egos, and
anything can happen. And does. What happened at KVVU last week was among the
mildest of the mild.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">So
what happens there next, do you think, at KVVU?
The GM is now tasked with finding the next miracle worker—you know, that
20-something guy or gal who has all the right ideas for turning the station
into a profit workhorse and has only been waiting for someone in hiring
authority to say <i>there</i> you are, come
on in, we’ve been looking everywhere for you, where have you been all our
lives, go ahead, give it a shot.
Because, you know, there are so many of those waiting in line for their
chance to prove they can “take TV news to the next level,” or apply creative
new “out of the box thinking,” or bring “a fresh young approach” to the
business, or “reengineer the process,” or perform whatever other catch
phrase it is that’s in vogue at the moment, or that can be made to be in vogue. They’re just waiting to be discovered. The big breakthrough could take place any day
now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">What,
you don’t see that happening? If such a
Big New TV News Approach really were standing by in the wings, wouldn’t someone
have glommed onto it by now, brought it out, and made it work?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">It’s
a good question. I speak as someone who
has, on more than one occasion, promised that I’m that very guy who can work
that very magic. And I do claim, with a
very straight face, to have carried out some ratings prestidigitation from time
to time and furthermore to have done it by producing and promoting reputable
journalistic content. So I don’t rule it
out. Sustaining such a strategy in the
face of audience boredom is the key. But
I am still a believer in old school values.
Maybe there <i>is</i> a new approach
that will burn the woods down like station owners are always looking for. I don’t know.
But it seems to me it’s better to build than burn, and that was always
my approach. I do know this: After roughly 65 years of broadcast TV news
history, it’s clear that there is no secret “thing you can try” that’s going to
provide that miracle just lying around waiting for someone to come along, pick
it up and develop it. But one common
denominator you’ll find in most successful TV stations is consistency and
sustainability in quality and commitment of strategy and talent. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">What
keeps me standing in awe of the TV news industry is this hope that always seems
to spring eternal in the breasts of general managers and their bosses that the
Next Big Idea is just around the corner, that someone will emerge who can, with
the flip of a switch, turn the station into a ratings-belching powerhouse—and without
a whole lot of effort. In this scenario
news directors are viewed a lot like light bulbs; if you burn one out just plug
in the next one; they’re all about the same.
And because these jobs pay well, for the most part, there never seems to
be any shortage of those willing to give it a shot and take the abuse. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">So
back to Las Vegas. On the one hand, it will
be interesting to see what kind of massive new changes will be put into place
that required the termination of the veteran news director to get. On the other, it happens in college and
professional sports all the time, doesn’t it?
Sometimes you get dramatic change and sometimes you can’t tell the
difference as teams lurch from one disappointing regime to the next.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">In
any case, the results should be interesting.
So, to the Adam Bradshaws and Todd Browns of this world—and everyone
caught between them—here’s wishing you the very best of luck as you try to move
forward with this lovable and once beautiful old biddy of an aging enterprise called TV news. May fortune favor you and the many colleagues
in your same situation as you search for that Next Big Idea that’s going to revitalize the industry and put it back on track to doing what it’s supposed to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Which
is, by the way, what, exactly? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Now
do you begin to see why TV news is in the shape it’s in these days? But by all accounts, TV news types are
brighter than the average bear. Surely
there’s some place where they can look these answers up. We’ll wait.
The changes should be interesting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Or
at least as interesting as they’ve been all the times before.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Oh. By the way, I almost forgot. Rick Gevers reports that with Bradshaw being shown the door, the senior TV news director in the Las Vegas market is KSNV-TV's Mark Neerman, who's been on the job ten months. Yes, ten months is enough to make him the senior news director in the market. This is entirely typical of the way it works in local TV news.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">###<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-91031295178960250822015-10-21T15:14:00.000-07:002015-10-21T15:14:25.428-07:00Fred Flintstone Killed Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sjVJBylJns0/VigKfdRJoBI/AAAAAAAACKg/rKrF7CbcFWM/s1600/00%2BChanging%2BTimes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sjVJBylJns0/VigKfdRJoBI/AAAAAAAACKg/rKrF7CbcFWM/s200/00%2BChanging%2BTimes.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">The
premise of today's blog entry may seem outlandish, but if you’ll bear with me I think I
can prove it out.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">A
few months ago I was doing some research for my gig on The Forrest Carr show on
Tucson’s PowerTalk 1210 when I came across a TV commercial online that just
blew me away. The spot, dating from the
early 60’s, had appeared originally in <i>The
Flintstones</i>, what was then billed as a prime time animated series aimed at
equal parts children and adults. Barney
and Fred had just walked into the back yard and were noticing that their
spouses, Betty and Wilma, were doing the chores. “Man, I hate to see them work so hard,”
Barney opined, at which point Fred agreed:
“So let’s go around back where we can’t see ‘em.” At which point the two of them decide a
cigarette break is in order; they proceed to bust out with a package of
Winstons. Barney blows out a cloud of hot
air big enough to have rescued Dorothy and Toto from Oz while Fred rolls off
with a verse of the Winston Jingle, which you may remember if you’re old
enough: “Winston tastes good like a cigarette
should....” I remember that first line,
and as well I should; in 1998 Advertising Age voted it the 9th most effective
TV jingle of the 20th century.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></div>
<a name='more'></a>The
tobacco commercials aired within the show and were presented by the program’s
characters as program vignettes. “Your’re
kidding,” you ask. “They were marketing
death sticks directly to children—and that was legal?” <o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4WujyOl7kxw/VigK947-PEI/AAAAAAAACKo/7cf6YwUFsBw/s1600/BArney%2BWinston.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4WujyOl7kxw/VigK947-PEI/AAAAAAAACKo/7cf6YwUFsBw/s200/BArney%2BWinston.jpg" width="195" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Yes. The jingle appeared on the scene in 1954.
It’s not clear when it made its debut on the Flintstones show, but we do know the
run continued until the advent of the third generation of Flintstones in the
form of Pebbles and Bamm Bamm in 1963. Remember, the target audience for the
Flintstones was both adults and children.
Perhaps that bothered some people.
R.J. Reynolds also sponsored the Walter Cronkite news program, but Uncle
Walt steadfastly refused to read the jingle.
Think you know the grounds for his objection? Pfaw.
His problem with it was that the slogan
was grammatically incorrect. (It should
have been “Winston tastes good <i>as</i> a
cigarette should.” We all have our
issues and perspectives, don’t we?)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_lAtlNYyajc/VigLSgXAPWI/AAAAAAAACKw/5IXVOoYtImM/s1600/Fred%2B%2526%2BWilma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_lAtlNYyajc/VigLSgXAPWI/AAAAAAAACKw/5IXVOoYtImM/s200/Fred%2B%2526%2BWilma.jpg" width="199" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">As
I recall, we kiddies didn’t read it either.
We had our own version: “Winston
tastes bad like the one I just had. No
filter, no flavor, just a roll of toilet paper.” I’m not sure who was corrupting whom here. But the salient point remains is that here we
were, kids aged anywhere from 3 to 9, <i>singing
about cigarettes</i> in our own homes, school hallways and playgrounds. What a coup for the tobacco companies! The idea that cigarette smoking was a
completely safe and pleasurable activity was firmly implanted in kids’ heads from
that day forward. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">And
it also got implanted that cigarette smoking was an adult activity. When I asked my father, at the tender age of
6, if I could try one, he let me know in very certain terms that just like beer
drinking, cigarettes were strictly for adults.
This was more marketing genius; an explanation of that type made me only
want to try it more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">There
was nothing like the effect TV advertisements had on kids in the 60’s, and
never will be again. I’m still feeling
the effects, half a century later. Yesterday
it caused me to go on another Cap’n Crunch run.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2JLiysQXv9I/VigLsOgLeNI/AAAAAAAACLA/q0GMM3gTNjo/s1600/Light%2Btogether.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2JLiysQXv9I/VigLsOgLeNI/AAAAAAAACLA/q0GMM3gTNjo/s1600/Light%2Btogether.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">If
this hard left turn here in the blog narrative toward Cap’n Crunch lost you,
hang on because there is a connection. I
told you recently that I couldn’t eat Cap’n Crunch because of (1) lactose
intolerance and (2) it sometimes goes down wrong, leading to a sensation not
unlike shoveling gravel down my windpipe, which in turn leads to a long bout of
coughing and hacking (in the research, Cap’n Crunch “taking off the roof of
your mouth” turns up as a common consumer complaint). I suspect this would be tough enough for a
non-asthmatic to handle, but it was really rough on someone like me. When I checked one of my favorite stores
earlier this week, they only had a Cap’n Crunch knock-off called “Crunch
Berries,” which sounded a lot like something my high school gym coach used to
threaten to give me if I didn’t haul my butt down the track quickly enough. I never did meet his satisfaction, because my
parents and pediatrician had withheld from both of us the fact that I was an asthmatic
from whom treatment had been withheld, on the grounds that knowledge of my
condition could cause me to view myself as a life-long cripple. So my school athletic life was filled with endless
threats and derision and the occasional crunch-berry vision, but never with the
thrill of victory. I did,
however, come away with a love of Cap’n Crunch that continues to this day. Alas, I decided yesterday that even though I
did find the stand-alone product available for sale, in my current medical
condition I just can’t risk another asthmatic or breathing panic attack. I mean, the consequences of swallowing this
stuff the wrong way can be brutal. Imagine
a conveyor belt filled with big chunks of brick pavers, asphalt, rock debris of
all kind—<i>you’re</i> the conveyor. The taste might actually be worth it if you live
though the experience, an issue that sometimes can be in doubt for an hour or
so. Yesterday I was having bad chest
pains so I gave it all up as a bad idea.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D3-6vxZHb1E/VigL1MWpEHI/AAAAAAAACLI/hobhkYcNxyk/s1600/Quisp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D3-6vxZHb1E/VigL1MWpEHI/AAAAAAAACLI/hobhkYcNxyk/s320/Quisp.jpg" width="243" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
did resume my search for my little buddy Quisp, though. Quisp is a little space alien who came out at
roughly the same time as Cap’n Crunch.
The serial, shaped like little flying saucers, was roughly the same in
taste and texture, but softer and less likely to go down the wrong way. Alas, Quisp was discontinued from the market
after only a few years, but interestingly Quaker Oats does offer it for sale on
line through Amazon, and perhaps other places.
I have always thought that Quisp was discriminated </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">against
for having a lisp—and if that’s not so,
why did Quaker Oats find it necessary to come out with a manly-man companion named
“Quake” as a sidekick? I have not gotten
over Quisp and think it’s time for him to return and fight for his rights. There is no reason in the world why some
stuffed-up executive should be allowed to continue depriving me of my childhood
buddy. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">And
besides, it was those boardroom buttheads that got me addicted to these sugary
cereals and other bad things in the first place. Shame on all of you. And for the record, whatever happened to
Wheaties as the epitome of athletically-tuned nutrition?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Actually,
I’m not nearly so worked up about the sugar thing and should probably be
grateful. After the collapse of my taste
buds during chemotherapy, my sugar tooth is about all I have left. Doctors put me on notice that anything I find
appealing and will eat, I should eat.
Apple Jacks, Froot Loops, Lucky Charms—all of them are as tasty to me
now as the day I first tried them out.
My weight is going up, which is a good thing. The only bad thing is that my face is looking
blocky, a predictable side effect of the steroids I’m using to enhance my
appetite.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">But
for the second-hand smoke allures of Fred
Flintstone and the others, we’ve got some serious talking to do. My cancer so fits the profile not of second
hand smoke but of primary smoking that I’m not sure I ever did convince my
doctors that I have never smoked. My
diagnosis of Stage IV metastatic abdominal cancer is now six months old. I lay blame for it directly at the feet of
executives who worked so hard to insert tobacco smoke into what should have
been a childhood sanctuary against illness and disease—and succeeded. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Marketing
is a war, not a battle. The marketers
fought hard to put tobacco into the Carr household and they won—true, these specific
teams didn’t get their particular brands placed (my parents smoked Kents, not
Winstons). But I was exposed to
second-hand smoke <i>for my entire childhood</i>. I’d be eating Quisp cereal today were it easily
available—but it’s not. Instead there
are plenty of other sugary products to choose from. In either case, I think the battle of
hard-working marketing executives is done here, don’t you?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">###<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-74188126574724766092015-10-17T17:37:00.001-07:002015-10-17T17:58:26.507-07:00"William Larkin Porter, Junior. July 4, 1928 - October 17 2015."<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aIjMXDV5DTw/ViLsgTdCtDI/AAAAAAAACKA/7LHOhfwTm1c/s1600/00%2BChanging%2BTimes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aIjMXDV5DTw/ViLsgTdCtDI/AAAAAAAACKA/7LHOhfwTm1c/s200/00%2BChanging%2BTimes.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">That ten
word headline summarizes this news this week regarding the father of one of my
best friends in the world, Mike Porter.
In no way do those words sum up the man. Nor are they supposed to. It's not my place to try to do that either. That honor and privilege belongs to the man’s
son.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I can,
however, and will recall the one particular life-changing act of kindness that
came my way many years ago because of the
late Mr. Porter and his wife, an act that arguably put me on a better
path. I was maybe 18 years old was going
through a very emotionally troubling period in my life. On that very night at my own home I was having a crisis of an evening filled with
suicidal thoughts and ideation, and inappropriate language and behavior. My father objected to the way I was talking
to my mother and girlfriend – a dispute that culminated in him tossing the both
of us (me and the girl) out on the street in a freezing, steady
downpour--without my glasses. (For the record I'll admit to having treated my girlfriend
very immaturely, but nothing crossed the line to anything illegal, immoral, or
violent. The girl had done absolutely nothing wrong; my father's treatment of her was beyond disgraceful). I remember after being expelled
from my dad’s home that at the end of this 25-minute walk to the closest pay
phone, her hair was as frozen as mine; you can’t imagine how mortifying that
was. When I reached that phone, I placed
a call to Mr. Porter, and asked him whether he might be willing to drive cross
town that night (a 35 minute drive) to rescue
me and my girl from our frozen hair and from my own personal idiocy, and
to help me get my girlfriend home since Dad had confiscated my car. Mr. Porter did all this without batting an
eye, sheltering us from the ravages of a Memphis ice storm and then taking me
the next morning to retrieve my clothes from my home and then moving me to an
aunt's loft—no questions asked. This
helped get me back on track more ways than I can describe. How do you thank someone for that? Really, you can't. But mentioning it every now
and then in tones of admiration doesn't hurt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7V3HaOfm4RQ/ViLnv4UP5NI/AAAAAAAACJ0/3r6HiFks5OY/s1600/Untitled%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7V3HaOfm4RQ/ViLnv4UP5NI/AAAAAAAACJ0/3r6HiFks5OY/s320/Untitled%2B2.jpg" width="242" /></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Bottom
line: Mike and his family were a huge
help to me on an emotionally trying weekend when I desperately needed the
proper help and guidance. That night
could have gone either way. I could have
had it pointed out to me what a schmuck
I was and been told in no uncertain terms to clean up my own mess—which would
have been perfectly fair and reasonable but probably would have left me incredibly
embittered. Or I could have been shown
some life-affirming human compassion that I did not deserve nor did I have
coming to me, but which I desperately needed.
I got the latter—and I promise you, I learned from it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">From
where I sit – Mike, you are a blessed human being to have had this man in your
life. We both were.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">My condolences at your loss.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">###</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-54095515742760999442015-10-12T12:32:00.002-07:002015-10-12T12:32:42.791-07:00Attack of the Cybercats VIII<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></b></div>
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I hope everyone is enjoying Monday. For those who are not, enjoy these cat photos instead. This expands on the evidence I've been bringing you for months showing that your typical house cat may not be what it appears to be. You have been warned.</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I’ve
applied my special processing technique to more cat photos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The evidence remains conclusive:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>what looks like ordinary house cats are
really Cybercats—part feline, part machine—who are able to exert mind control
over certain individuals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although their
immediate goal of household domination seems clear, their ultimate plan remains
a mystery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The latest round of processed
photos is below.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p05gHxNVQM4/U3k4fS5eBmI/AAAAAAAAAnM/PBRtlAQu1KA/s1600/01+Look+into+my+eye.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p05gHxNVQM4/U3k4fS5eBmI/AAAAAAAAAnM/PBRtlAQu1KA/s1600/01+Look+into+my+eye.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“</span>I
am Artemis of the Cybercat Collective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You love and adore me and exist solely to serve my every whim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of which I will have many.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You may want to take notes.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mMfIwX5h9AY/U3k4o5-00LI/AAAAAAAAAnU/c6wbYmjE6so/s1600/02+Pat+on+head.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mMfIwX5h9AY/U3k4o5-00LI/AAAAAAAAAnU/c6wbYmjE6so/s1600/02+Pat+on+head.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“The
human is giving me a desultory pat on the head while allowing her attention to
be distracted from the task of praising me, expressing admiration for me, and
assuring me that I am the best cat ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is not acceptable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I must
make my feelings known.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am envisioning
what the new comforter in the guest bedroom would look like with a sopping,
freshly hacked-up hairball lying atop it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Alternatively, the new flower vase sitting on the kitchen counter might
have to have an unfortunate accident.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--1jRuy8Gs28/U3k4u6WWrMI/AAAAAAAAAnc/Y5aXq_X8lgI/s1600/03+Bird+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--1jRuy8Gs28/U3k4u6WWrMI/AAAAAAAAAnc/Y5aXq_X8lgI/s1600/03+Bird+1.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“The
human believes I do not know the difference between a real bird and a toy
one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I find this insulting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will express my irritation by ripping the
toy to bits and spreading it over the carpet.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FKX5Dfv7ikA/U3k46gaivOI/AAAAAAAAAnk/nxIDGdwtsEU/s1600/04+Bird+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FKX5Dfv7ikA/U3k46gaivOI/AAAAAAAAAnk/nxIDGdwtsEU/s1600/04+Bird+2.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“As
I was saying.”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T5iVLjf_s_E/U3k4_xQflnI/AAAAAAAAAns/-o6yqni4T7k/s1600/05+Mechanical.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T5iVLjf_s_E/U3k4_xQflnI/AAAAAAAAAns/-o6yqni4T7k/s1600/05+Mechanical.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“On
one hand, this mechanical bird on a wire is quite amusing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the other, the human has delegated the
task of playing with me to a battery-powered device.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I find that demeaning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will express my displeasure by ripping the
bird from its wire and then hiding it.”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3CiR-QGDxsI/U3k5GX_8OhI/AAAAAAAAAn0/L7XTq66poKQ/s1600/06+Bathtub.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3CiR-QGDxsI/U3k5GX_8OhI/AAAAAAAAAn0/L7XTq66poKQ/s1600/06+Bathtub.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I
do not understand how this human cleansing device works.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have been sitting here for half an hour and
am as dirty as I was before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Except for
my butt, which I took care of while waiting.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NeyhcJwvp5g/U3k5MAAYkDI/AAAAAAAAAn8/owMvDouAOeU/s1600/07+Handsome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NeyhcJwvp5g/U3k5MAAYkDI/AAAAAAAAAn8/owMvDouAOeU/s1600/07+Handsome.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NeyhcJwvp5g/U3k5MAAYkDI/AAAAAAAAAn8/owMvDouAOeU/s1600/07+Handsome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“As
I am now older, I must transition to a new look suitable for mind control.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This pose will cause the human to think I am
devastatingly handsome, and will turn her brain into mush, as did the kittenish
cute-and-cuddly look before it.”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6daam64gqX4/U3k5RywxDyI/AAAAAAAAAoI/-nvvG8iDh4A/s1600/08+Water.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6daam64gqX4/U3k5RywxDyI/AAAAAAAAAoI/-nvvG8iDh4A/s1600/08+Water.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I
find this running water from the tap to be fresh and pleasingly cool to the
tongue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is much better than the water
bowl or even the toilet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will require
the human to give me water in this fashion exclusively going forward.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKqvRhV0UrU/U3k5joJPG7I/AAAAAAAAAoM/IlwR1B81cCs/s1600/09+Ellis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKqvRhV0UrU/U3k5joJPG7I/AAAAAAAAAoM/IlwR1B81cCs/s1600/09+Ellis.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I
am Ellis of the Cybercat Collective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
am newly arrived in this household and will be taking over its
administration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will love and adore
me, pet me, play with me, feed me, and lavishly praise me, as you have done for
others before me.”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X8WIUxLC_rE/U3k5pvMwn9I/AAAAAAAAAoU/cdNuKgyXLJo/s1600/10+Ate+a+lizard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X8WIUxLC_rE/U3k5pvMwn9I/AAAAAAAAAoU/cdNuKgyXLJo/s1600/10+Ate+a+lizard.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“A
lizard penetrated the perimeter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Fortunately, my sensor net was operative and I caught it in the kitchen
before it could proceed further into the compound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I consumed part of it and found it to be quite tasty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You may have the rest.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--uddwAsH9K0/U3k5wVZufFI/AAAAAAAAAoc/poUNoDZz2bE/s1600/11+Corner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--uddwAsH9K0/U3k5wVZufFI/AAAAAAAAAoc/poUNoDZz2bE/s1600/11+Corner.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I
do not know how I got into this enclosed space.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You will extricate me.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Up8E7zwi304/U3k510lrKXI/AAAAAAAAAok/BFjxM4j2j3U/s1600/12+Monitor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Up8E7zwi304/U3k510lrKXI/AAAAAAAAAok/BFjxM4j2j3U/s1600/12+Monitor.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Catnip—this
will be good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not familiar with
one-click ordering, however.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will have
the human assist me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We will also order
some lizards.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7HOkt1X-Hvk/U3k573P6v9I/AAAAAAAAAos/16I0-r5sPUw/s1600/13+Cube+refuge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7HOkt1X-Hvk/U3k573P6v9I/AAAAAAAAAos/16I0-r5sPUw/s1600/13+Cube+refuge.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I
will emerge from my cube once I have finished drawing up today’s schedule.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I expect a busy morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here is what I have so far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At 7:00 am, I will partake of crunchy cat
food from my bowl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At 8:00 am, I will expel
a fur ball onto the couch, accompanied by much hacking and other suitable sound
effects.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At 9:00 am, I will test the new
curtains in the master bedroom to make sure they are securely installed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At 10:00 am, I will crawl underneath the
covers of the unmade bed and then peek out in a cute fashion, thereby adding to
my mind control efforts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At 11:00 am, I
will find an unstained area of the living room carpet and then vomit on it.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mvtYwr5bX7Y/U3k6GtqxOnI/AAAAAAAAAo0/gOY7UdwoksU/s1600/14+Too+cute.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mvtYwr5bX7Y/U3k6GtqxOnI/AAAAAAAAAo0/gOY7UdwoksU/s1600/14+Too+cute.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I
am continuing to work on various ways to exude cuteness for the purposes of
mind control.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I call this, ‘Too Cute for
Words Pose #5.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It will turn the female human’s
brain to oatmeal.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uAwiDxgVqW4/U3k6LGUERhI/AAAAAAAAAo8/tiC84TZHMf4/s1600/15+Upside+down.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uAwiDxgVqW4/U3k6LGUERhI/AAAAAAAAAo8/tiC84TZHMf4/s1600/15+Upside+down.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“This
male human believes that grabbing me, turning me upside down, and posing me for a picture is cute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His ability
to resist mind control is most distressing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, I have other ways to discourage unacceptable behavior. Let’s see if he thinks the
wounds he’s about to receive are cute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’ll bet he won’t take a picture of those.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">###</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Find the complete story so far here: <a href="http://thebashfulbloviator.blogspot.com/p/attack-of-cybercats.html" target="_blank">Attack of the Cybercats.</a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F1.bp.blogspot.com%2F-NeyhcJwvp5g%2FU3k5MAAYkDI%2FAAAAAAAAAn8%2FowMvDouAOeU%2Fs1600%2F07%2BHandsome.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NeyhcJwvp5g/U3k5MAAYkDI/AAAAAAAAAn8/owMvDouAOeU/s1600/07+Handsome.jpg" -->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-56345623420330579372015-10-10T13:11:00.000-07:002015-10-10T13:11:27.466-07:00A Gift of Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OhjI4sAKMwI/VhlwrCRzqZI/AAAAAAAACI4/jS9N9bLX-TU/s1600/00%2Ba%2BGift%2Bof%2BLove.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OhjI4sAKMwI/VhlwrCRzqZI/AAAAAAAACI4/jS9N9bLX-TU/s200/00%2Ba%2BGift%2Bof%2BLove.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 4.5pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">An open letter to:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 4.5pt;">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Christ the King Episcopal Church<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 4.5pt;">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The Prayer Shawl Ministry<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 4.5pt;">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Special attention:
Ann Zasa <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"> Interfaith
Community Services Board<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 4.5pt;">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">2800 W Ina Rd<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 4.5pt;">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Tucson, AZ 85741<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 4.5pt;">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Dear Christ the King:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 4.5pt;">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I recently received by way of my wife Deborah a
wonderful prayer shawl from your organization.
The tag reads, “Made by hand and blessed with prayers of love and hope,
this wrap is a gift to you. May it bring
blessings of comfort, gifts of warmth and the knowledge that you are cared for.” And it’s signed, the Prayer Shawl Ministry of
Christ the King Episcopal Church.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 4.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 4.5pt;">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Deborah and I can’t thank you enough. This open letter, which I am posting on my
blog, is an attempt to do that but it only scratches the surface, really, of the
emotions something like this inspires within us. This shawl does make us feel supported and
cared for and loved and all those things, and we’re feeling it in a way we
certainly never expected when we began to go down this road with my terminal
cancer diagnosis back in April. The
journey has been a difficult one, yes, but it’s also been filled with joys that
we did not expect. People reaching out to us in the manner this
shawl does falls into that latter category.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 4.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 4.5pt;">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I will put this shawl in a place of honor in my
office where I write my blog, which I do on not quite a daily basis, but often, as a reminder of
those who care about us. Every time I
glance in that direction I will think of
this shawl, why it’s there, and of Christ the King. God bless you for thinking of us, and may He
continue to support you in your ministry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 4.5pt;">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Sincerely,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 4.5pt;">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Forrest Carr<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 4.5pt;">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Deborah Carr<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-59412942337441245762015-10-09T13:11:00.001-07:002015-10-09T13:12:40.002-07:00Getting Down with the People<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sAbXuyhC07o/Vhgc7LWjZ9I/AAAAAAAACIg/-5lmWupVwhw/s1600/00%2BGetting%2Bdown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sAbXuyhC07o/Vhgc7LWjZ9I/AAAAAAAACIg/-5lmWupVwhw/s200/00%2BGetting%2Bdown.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"Let’s ride the
bus,” my friend said. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Now
it can be told. The Tucson bus strike
has ended. I found this article in my
files which seems relevant. Like most of
what I write for you, this has the virtue of being all true, with no
exaggeration. I hope you enjoy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">A
friend of mine, Jay, was a TV news director who believed very much in the value
of a bus ride. He felt there was no
better way to get to know what was really going on in a given community than by
taking a ride on a city bus. During the
time I worked for him, he used to preach this philosophy to me constantly. But I’d ridden plenty of buses as a college
kid, and had no great nostalgic feeling for them. I ignored his advice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
</div>
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">A
few years after I moved on to my own news director’s job, one day Jay and I found
ourselves together again in Los Angeles at a news director’s convention. The Convention Center was just a few blocks
down the road from our hotel. But the
convention organizers had arranged for fleets of shuttle buses, and they
strongly urged convention goers not to try to traverse the distance on foot. The hotel’s front desk said the same thing.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">It
seemed silly to me to go to all the trouble of spending 15 minutes queuing up
for a four-minute shuttle bus ride, so on the first day I ignored the advice
and hoofed it from the hotel to the Convention Center. I encountered no problems on the way. But on the walk back, the sun had just set,
and the atmosphere was a bit different. I
began to feel a little nervous. Then a
couple of blocks ahead, I spotted yellow tape and flashing police lights. When I got to the scene, I approached an
officer, told him I was a journalist in town for the convention, and asked him
what was going on. “Some drunk-ass guy
stabbed his drunk-ass roommate,” the officer said, and then added, “You know,
you really shouldn’t be walking. They
have shuttle buses.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">My
friend Jay also was shuttle-bus averse.
The following night, he had a similar experience. Just as he was walking past some kind of
hotel or apartment building, a huge brawl erupted in the parking lot and
spilled out onto the sidewalk in front of him.
Jay had to thread his way through the combatants to get by. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">It
didn’t bother him a bit. Nor did it lessen
by one whit his enthusiasm for the streets or for the common people. He continued to walk to the sessions on foot,
giving the cold shoulder to the fleet of shuttle busses the organizers had
arranged at such expense.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Toward
the end of the week the convention was wrapping up, but we had seen none of the
city’s sights. Clearly, we could not
come home from the City of Angels and tell our friends and spouses that we
hadn't gone anywhere or seen anything outside of the Convention Center. Jay and I decided to head down to Rodeo Drive
in Beverly Hills to see what they had there.
I offered to hail a cab. Jay
would have none of it. We would take a
city bus. There was no talking him out
of it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The
sculpture beside our bus stop in front of the L.A. Hilton perfectly set the
theme for our journey. It consisted of a
two-story high square metal pillar glistening with water flowing down the side
from some unseen opening on top. About
once every five minutes flames would ignite and creep up the sides, appearing
to burn the water itself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">In
due course the bus arrived and Jay and I climbed on. There we were, two white dudes from Florida. We found ourselves sitting next to three
young men who screamed “gang banger.”
Covered with tats and chains, and wearing plain white t-shirts and
baseball caps turned around backwards, they couldn’t have fit the role more
perfectly if someone had just sent them down from Central Casting. Jay was carrying a huge camera bag and
tripod. I thought he might as well have
painted crosshairs on his back. As we
sat down, I studiously avoided eye contact with the young men. Jay nodded at the trio and smiled. They looked back with indifference, not quite
glaring, but not smiling, either.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">With
a hiss of the brakes and a growl of the motor, the bus lumbered on its
way. It only took two stops for trouble
to arise. A large female passenger,
whose main feature was the ratty blonde hair desperately seeking to escape from
the pins holding it captive atop her head, left her seat, exited the bus, stepped
out on the sidewalk, took a look around, and then climbed back on board. She did not offer to pay an additional fare. The bus driver objected. Words were exchanged. We could not hear his side of the
conversation, but we could hear hers as she walked back to the back of the bus
where Jay and I sat. “He's pissin' me
off, now,” she announced to the crowd.
Then she turned back to him and yelled at the top of her lungs, “Just drive the bus, you son of a bitch!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">At
this point the three gang-bangers sitting near Jay and me began muttering
amongst themselves. "We're gonna
have to write him up," one said.
"Write him up?" another disagreed. "I may have to go up there and <i>shoot</i> him."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">At
this, I cut my eyes in alarm at Jay. He
held up a palm and shook his head, signaling for me to be cool. Later he told me he'd overheard enough of
their conversation to learn the bus driver was the boys' father. Presumably this meant they were not sincere
in their threats to shoot him, or at least, so Jay thought. Me, I wasn’t so sure—this was, after all, the
state that gave us the Menendez brothers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">At
any rate, the driver soldiered on. Three
stops later, the blonde woman got up again and walked to the front of the
bus. When she stepped past the driver,
more words were exchanged; Jay and I were able to clearly distinguish the
phrase "choke on it," but not much else. Eventually she stepped down and the driver
pulled away from the stop. Just before
slamming the doors shut, he shouted at her, “Buy a brush!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Two
stops later there was a major commotion.
Something had happened on the sidewalk.
Half the riders got up to look out the window, causing the bus to list
precariously to starboard. A would-be
rider, it seems, had fallen down and could not get up. The bus driver looked at her through the doors,
and then, having ascertained to his satisfaction that the poor woman had indeed
fallen but was clear of his tires and fenders, closed the doors, put the bus in
gear and eased on down the street.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Fifteen
minutes later we pulled up to the bus stop just down the street from the
intersection of Wilshire and Rodeo Drive.
Jay and I got off, walked down the street to Southeby's, and ducked
inside. Moments later we were standing
nose to nose with paintings by Degas, Renior, Gaugan and Picassso. One of them bore a placard declaring its estimated
value to be $3.5 million. And it may not
have been the most expensive painting there; some of the cards simply read,
"Estimate on request." The air
was so rarefied and expensive that any second I expected to choke and start
coughing up tens and twenties.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">On
the way out of Southeby's, we had to step over a vagrant who was sitting propped
against the wall with his legs jutting out over the sidewalk, blocking it. The derelict had his hand extended but was
shaking so badly that it wasn't clear whether he was soliciting money or
pretending to roll a pair of dice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">A
little beyond Southeby's was a dealer in antiquities. The shop was filled with ancient artifacts
which somehow had wound up on the private market—glassware, figurines, and
pottery under glass. As we entered, the
shopkeeper, a man in his 30's who appeared to be of Arab extraction, was trying
to usher a customer out of the store.
This customer, a middle-aged white man in casual clothes, was arguing
with the shopkeeper. The merchant’s
expression was one of contempt and disdain mixed with annoyance; clearly he
regarded the customer as a complete flake.
“Look,” the customer was pleading, “just tell me how much you want for it. Just tell me how much. Call me.
Will you call me? Call me and
tell me how much you want for it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The
shopkeeper nodded his head, as if to say, “Yeah, right.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">“I'll
give you ten thousand for it,” the customer persisted “How's that?
Ten thousand. Cash.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">“I
tell you what,” the shopkeeper said with a thick accent. “I give you a ten thousand dollar <i>deescount</i>.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The
customer left, and the shopkeeper turned to Jay and me. “Don't look at us,” I said. “We haven't got a dime.” The merchant didn’t so much as nod; he simply
turned and walked away without another word, obviously dismissing us from his
mind completely as two people with zero potential for intersecting with his
plane of reality. Within moments, he was
in the back of the store arguing with someone who wanted to sell a priceless
heirloom. The shopkeeper wasn't buying.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Jay
and I finished our tour of Rodeo drive, again stepped over the vagrant on our
way back to the bus, climbed back inside, and made it back to the hotel without
further incident. I was relieved. Jay was exhilarated. “I think all journalists should have to ride
the bus at least once a month,” he said.
“In fact, I may make it a requirement in my newsroom. We should get down with the people, and get
to know our viewers.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Me,
I don't know. I don't get the sense that
I met many people on that trip who watch the news. But I was pretty sure some of them would be <i>on</i> the news, sooner or later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">As
for Los Angeles, I did come away with a sense of wonder, though not the sense
of wonder I had expected when I first arrived.
It's not a city of angels; it's a city of angles—sharp ones, and of wild
extremes and stark contrasts. The bus
ride had helped me see some of this. And
for that, I was grateful. I told Jay I
thought so, and I meant it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.3pt 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The
next time I was in town, I rented a car.
I can read about the damned angles.
That’s what the <i>L.A. Times</i> is
for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">###<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-83492780938998892882015-10-08T12:40:00.001-07:002015-10-08T13:06:35.081-07:00Reclaiming Life’s Little Joys<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jpY3RrN3Uac/VhbESG4PNvI/AAAAAAAACIQ/BPIbF-KCR2I/s1600/00%2BblOG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jpY3RrN3Uac/VhbESG4PNvI/AAAAAAAACIQ/BPIbF-KCR2I/s200/00%2BblOG.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Looking back it’s hard not to become at least
a little resentful at some of life’s little pleasures that have, one by one,
fallen off the list of things of which I am able to partake and enjoy. The list is getting kind of long now, thanks
to my cancer. It started off slowly
enough, though, and initially had nothing to do with any kind of terminal
diagnosis. At first it was just about that
process we all have to face, that of simply getting old.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Now, I don’t know about you, but when I was
growing up I fell big for those sugary cereal commercials with which
advertisers used to inundate the airwaves on Saturday mornings (I presume they
still do). I wound up with a confirmed
cereal habit which continued well into my adulthood. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Sometime around the time I turned 40 I came
down with the worst intestinal bug I’ve ever experienced. I won’t offend you with the details except to
say that there are only so many items it’s possible to cram onto a list of
gastro-intestinal symptoms, and I had them all.
It started out bad and got worse and worse—and you know I’m not
exaggerating by the mere fact that symptoms of this nature would propel me to
get off my lead-lined butt and seek medical help (at the time I really hated
going to the doctor). But I did. In fact it initially seemed that the only
good thing about it was that the occasion of having to drop off stool samples
gave rise to some really obnoxious, beneath-my-age-and-level-of-maturity-and-social-status
humor. Such as the relatively
mundane: “Can you tell me where I drop
off my sh*t?” to, “I’m sorry to be giving you so much sh*t today, but the
doctor downright insisted.” And so on. I would be proud at the present time to be
able to report that I acted my age, but unfortunately that is not the
case. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">What did happen is that we discovered that
somehow I had become lactose intolerant.
This was a bitter blow. I had
come to love a bowl of cereal accompanied by a tall, frosty glass of milk every
day at breakfast. Except on certain
Saturdays and Sundays, it’s all I ever ate for breakfast. Now the cruel vagaries of the medical profession
were taking this away from me? <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The doctor suggested that I try taking Lactaid
or similar dairy relief tablets before the meal but that didn’t work very
well. I simply gave it up.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Now—fast forward to today. My other breakfast food that I dearly love
are McDonald’s Egg McMuffins, and my own bacon and eggs which I’m used to
preparing myself on alternate weekends.
That was before my taste buds went into rebellion, leaving me nothing
but a sweet tooth. But I have been
noticing something just lately. Small
doses of ice cream no longer upset my stomach.
This got me to thinking: I began
to wonder whether the condition might be in recession or even remission, and
that perhaps I can try again to handle a bowl of cereal if I take a couple of
Lactaid tablets first?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The short answer is: Yes! I was reluctant to buy a whole big box of
cereal to check out this theory—but in the end I thought, what the hell. What am I saving my money for? So I bought a variety pack of the small stuff
and two of the bigger boxes of brands not contained in the variety pack. First up:
Froot Loops. OMG. Do you know, I used to love Froot Loops so
much that I would eat them dry out of a
coffee cup? I don’t know why I stopped
doing that once I could no longer eat them wet but my guess is I’ll be going
back to that. Yesterday it was Apple
Jacks. Luscious. And this morning, Lucky Charms. Have you ever heard of anyone going back for
seconds on breakfast cereal? No? Then
you don’t want to hear about my thirds this morning.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Tomorrow:
Frosted Flakes. Tony the Tiger
still promises, “They’re GR-R-REAT!” right there on the box cover. Of course, I
have to wonder whether a red-blooded tiger who expresses a preference for fast junk
food instead of slow nutritious natives is a good role model, but we’ll let
that go for now. The marketing messages
here are mixed. I’m looking at the
variety pack box, and I can tell you
right now that it won’t contain enough food to satisfy me, so I’ll be padding
it out with Lucky Charms or Apple Jacks.
One message enthusiastically promising the product will be great is
entirely subjective in nature and cannot be proved one way or another. A banner across the top promises, “Good
Source of VITAMIN D [caps in the original.]”
Well, okay, fine. But if you
think that means you can dismiss the need for vitamin D from your mind for the
day, guess again; look more closely on the nutrition panel and you find that one box provides
just 10% of the Percent Daily Value. No
big deal, though. I mean, who expects to
get an entire day’s worth of nutrition from such an itty bitty box containing a
serving of no more than 130 calories?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">This made me curious to see what kind of
marketing messages the Apple Jacks brand was throwing at me. After all, with a bigger box it has more opportunity. Interestingly, the nutrition promise came
first; a tab in the upper right corner promised that Apple Jacks is a source of
Fiber and is made with Whole Grain (is that still considered good these
days? I get confused.) The kid marketing was done primarily through
the artwork. There’s an image of an
emaciated apple face jumping down from somewhere; by the expression on the
creature’s face, it looks like it’s having fun at least in a Walking Dead kind of way.
Here’s another image with a face; at first glance it looks like it was probably intended
to be an apple stem, even though it looks to me more like a ruptured
vein. Its actual name is CinnaMan, so I
guess it’s supposed to be a cinnamon seasoning creature of some sort; in any case, as presented on the front cover I don’t
see either figure as presenting a motivation to purchase for any age group. But Apple Head and CinnaMan do cavort
on the back cover in some kind of game-oriented comic clearly intended for
kids; it’s over my head but presumably the kids get it.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The Lucky Charms box wastes no time at all
talking to adults on the front cover; it gets right down to business by
promising the kids five new diamond charms. (But hey, I looked for them, too.) One
of the side panels contains some nutritional copy aimed at the adults, again
touting whole grain and promising a lack of high fructose corn syrup.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">So there you go. The culinary experience for me was great,
taking me back to my childhood, and with no adverse effects that I can see. I will be adding this to my morning dietary routine
going forward.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Now I’m dying to try Captain Crunch. I <i>love</i>
Captain Crunch. The problem with Captain
Crunch is that if it goes down the wrong way, you’re hosed. This has been true since forever. The entire claim to fame of Captain Crunch is
that it stands up to a bowl of milk and will not go soggy—like, ever. Some kind of food additive makes this stuff
so crunchy that I’m sure it could hold its own against a bowl of broken pottery
shards. You could pave interstates with
this stuff. It is delicious, but in my condition, if some of
that were go to down the wrong pipe I could be in big trouble. So I’ll have to think about it. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">What else to report on the medical
front? I am finding out why cancer
patients talk about good days and bad days.
Yesterday was not a good day. First,
fairly significant “firebrand” style pain from the tumor or whatever is going
on in my side woke me up at about 3:30 AM.
I was able to beat it back with an unscheduled dose of Dilaudid, which my prescription allows me to do, but the pain continued
to nag me all day until bedtime when it went away on its own and I proceeded to
sleep like a baby. Go figure. Then at about 3:00 AM <i>that</i> night (last night) I woke up with heavy breathing; this was
not a panic attack but could have led to one had I not been through it
before. I took a shot of my inhaler then
an unscheduled does of Atavan to deal with the breathing anxiety, which I am explicitly
authorized to do by prescription (that’s what it’s for), and then slept soundly
after that. Today, so far, has been
good. Very good.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">If I could count at all times on feeling as physically good as I do right now, life would be much sweeter. It’s not knowing at any given time what
medical issue might lie around the corner that makes it more difficult. Among other things it’s scary to try to plan
travel under those circumstances because, quite frankly, you can’t be sure of
making it from here to there without an incident! That’s why shorter hops near home are so much
more attractive and we will be doing some of those, and have been.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Meanwhile, All Hail Lucky Charms! Thanks to you I’ve recaptured one more of
life’s little pleasures. Until and
unless something like this happens to you, friends and neighbors, you really can’t understand the sheer joy of that.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">###<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-5949458839658557822015-10-06T14:44:00.000-07:002015-10-06T14:48:01.552-07:00Some Think You Can’t Handle the Truth<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jIT4gUqmA3M/VhQ-p2dYFMI/AAAAAAAACH4/LxXIntRfZt8/s1600/00%2BblOG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jIT4gUqmA3M/VhQ-p2dYFMI/AAAAAAAACH4/LxXIntRfZt8/s200/00%2BblOG.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">KEZI/CNN</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I have a keyboard, a track record as an
experienced and fairly well-respected journalist, and given my health it’s not
likely I’ll have to worry ever again whether something I say might p*ss off a
current or future employer. So when
someone, especially an elected official these days, issues forth with something
that strikes me as uniquely boneheaded, it’s hard not to go right to the
computer and begin the delicious process of ripping that person a new one. In a nice way, of course.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Every now and then, though, I like to hang
back and see if others notice first, especially when it comes to matters of
media conduct, ethics, editorial judgment, and the art of self-censorship.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Here is the latest issue that piqued my
interest. In the aftermath of this
country’s most recent mass shooting, the one at Umpqua Community College in
Douglas County Oregon, </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">(and we'll leave off for another day the discussion of what it says that I have to couch it that way),</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">the local sheriff, John Hanlin, announced that he had </span><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2015/10/02/us/oregon-shooting-umpqua-community-college.html?_r=0" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;" target="_blank">no intention of uttering the shooter’s name</a><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">.
Like, ever. His reasoning, as
quoted in the local and national media: “
‘I will not give him the credit he probably sought prior to this horrific and
cowardly act. You will never hear me
mention his name. He in no way deserves’ any notoriety.” He went on to chide the media, warning against giving the shooter sensationalistic coverage the man doesn't deserve.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Backlashes against the media are nothing new
in situations like this. Here in my
hometown of Tucson back in 2011, the gunsmoke still hung thick in the air when
our local sheriff, Clarence Dupnik, sought to blame the January 8 shootings on
an atmosphere of hate spewed by local and national right-wing radio—an accusation
for which no shred of evidence was in sight, nor has any ever been produced to
this day. Sheriff Hanlin’s comments fit
that traditional knee-jerk response but also added in another layer, an actual
call to tailor the news reporting to what the shooter “deserves.” And the sheriff in this case—who is, by the
way, an outspoken gun rights advocate—feels perfectly up to the task of making
these decisions for you. Apparently he
believes you can’t handle the truth. But
don’t worry, he can do it. We’re
government, and we’re here to help.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Having practiced, and defended, journalism
for 33 years, I had a rather strong reaction to the sheriff’s comments. But as noted I decided to wait a beat and see
if anyone else had anything to say about the sheriff’s call for secrecy. To my surprise, the reaction was relatively subdued. But today a letter to the editor finally hit
the pages of my morning paper, <i>The
Arizona Daily Star</i>, along the lines of what I was expecting. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Fellow citizen Larry Clark endorsed the
sheriff’s comments and called upon the media not to show pictures of
shooters. He said that in such
situations, the “real culprit” is the media.
Clark then went further, demanding that the media censor virtually
everything about such people, including name and likeness, age, gender or “anything
about him/her.” His point is that if the
media don’t give these people the exposure they want, they’ll stop what they’re
doing. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">You expect your fellow citizen to pop off
with the occasional goofball idea from time to time. But it’s more troubling when such dangerous notions
come from elected officials who should know better. We trust Sheriff Hanlin to get us the information a free and
enlightened society needs to govern itself while protecting public safety and
individual liberty. Indeed, it's his job to do so. Can you imagine how
coverage would have gone if well-meaning people such as Clark and Hanlin had gotten
their way in this instance, taking the logic of their argument to its fullest extent?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Joe Flippenread:</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Several people are reported dead today in a
mass shooting.</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We can’t tell you precisely
where because of security concerns; after all, we don’t want a panic to ensue
in which people could get hurt.</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We can tell
you the incident involved a single shooter in Oregon and that the shooter is
dead at the hands of police.</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Beyond
that, the local sheriff isn’t commenting except to say that he and his
department have no plans to assist the shooter by revealing to the public what
his motives might have been.</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Accordingly, the sheriff intends to keep the gunman’s name a
secret.</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nor will the sheriff discuss how
many firearms the killer had nor how he got them except to say that no laws
were broken in the purchase of those firearms.</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Apparently that is all we are going to be able to get on this story.</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Individual families of the ten or so victims are
being contacted now but there will be no further media updates.</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Live from an undisclosed location, this is
Joe Flippenread.</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Allie, back to you.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Allie Smileyface: “So, Joe, can you tell us anything at all
about where you are or the type of facility we’re talking about here?”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Joe: “Sorry,
Allie, but station management has decided to cooperate with the sheriff here
and none of that information will be forthcoming.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Allie:
“So you can’t tell us whether we’re
talking about a school, or a shopping mall, or a gas station?”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Joe: “No. I can tell you that plenty of police are on
hand and the scene is secure, but media are being asked to leave and we are
cooperating.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Allie:
“Nothing about what may have motivated this? I mean, was this terrorism or just a random
nut with a gun as we’ve been seeing so much of?”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Joe: “Sorry,
Allie. Police are closing in and we have
to leave. That’s all the information I
have for you—or will ever have.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Allie: “Oh.
Well, in that case, we’re off to other stories. Thanks for that report. Next up, folks: why Kim Kardashian is in the news again! Stay with us!”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Don’t think it could happen? <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Well, it’s not likely. But before you find yourself wishing that the
sheriff and critics like my fellow citizen in this morning’s paper get their way, think of the
consequences of being held in the dark about these kinds of things. There’s an old saying in the news business—especially
the broadcast end of it—and it’s this: “Sunshine
is the best disinfectant.” Yes, mass
violence incidents are particularly stressful both because of the copycat
elements and because the inevitable politicization of the story happens more
quickly now but still never seems to lead to any meaningful discussion.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">But think of the alternatives: secrecy?
Really? There’s a word for the selective
withholding of facts deemed to be politically sensitive, and it ain’t
news. That route is not for America, and
hopefully it never will be. We need the
facts. <i>All</i> the facts. Put them on
the table and then go where the day takes us.
That’s how our way of life works in this nation and hopefully it’s how
it always will.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Those who don’t trust that process to play
out believe you can’t be trusted with the truth. Public officials who would withhold such
information aren’t doing their jobs, and they are the ones who truly can’t be
trusted. It’s really that simple. The question here is not whether the shooter
gets the coverage he or she “deserves.”
It’s whether the public will. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">###</span><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200350852957837315.post-28034169496442263302015-10-05T16:35:00.001-07:002015-10-06T10:30:27.325-07:00Nurse Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mqqgyv2O-a0/VhMMSpKaWSI/AAAAAAAACHc/0TCcfIOrY_g/s1600/00%2BBlog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mqqgyv2O-a0/VhMMSpKaWSI/AAAAAAAACHc/0TCcfIOrY_g/s200/00%2BBlog.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">One of the questions I’m having to struggle
with now that I’ve made the decision to continue this blog and to keep you up
to date on my medical issues is: How much
“I” constitutes “TMI?” How little is too
little? And should I de-emphasize politics, or toss that subject out altogether? In answering that question, I’m guided by my
late colleague Warren Elly, who also blogged about his medical issues as he was
battling cancer. I wanted to hear more
from him. One day his voice simply wasn’t
there. So, under the premise that too
much is not enough for a blog of this nature, I’ll probably wind up writing more
than I really should. Politics we'll take as they come but I probably won't write as much about that.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">First of all, I have to issue another round
of thanks for those who’ve been reaching out to me. You know who you are. Some of you are doing it publicly, and some
are private. I’ve been really touched at
how many of you have read my most recent manuscript, <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B015RTQIF4" target="_blank">My Lifetime of Weird Coincidences and Strange Happenings</a></i>, and have been touched by it. I hear that I also remain on quite a few
prayer circles in various groups and church congregations. That means so much. Prayer shawls have come in. So have gifts of all kinds. It’s really quite moving.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">As you know, the blessing I’m looking for is
not necessarily for that of a longer life, but rather just the joy of
extracting the most from what I have left.
Those prayer efforts are perfect for that because it tells me that
people are thinking of me and wishing me well, which is absolutely all I can
ask for.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Down to practicalities: this was nurse day at the Carr ranch. Every week Casa de la Luz reaches out and
touches me twice, but sometimes more often.
I sometimes get a visit or phone call from our social worker, chaplain,
and maybe a volunteer who touches base to
make sure I have enough supplies to get me through the weekend, but
every week without fail I get a face-to-face visit from Samantha Farrell, RN,
who is my case manager. She takes my
vitals and reviews my pain levels. The
latter have been much improved since I had that in-patient visit to The
Fountains three weeks ago. I’m doing
better and am having to take less in the way of medication to get me there. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I’m on several different types of meds; there’s
time-release Oxycontin to deal with the cancer pain in my side; there’s Dilaudid
to cope with “breakthrough” pain that gets through despite the Oxycontin. I take a steroid for appetite enhancement,
and it is doing the trick. I’ve regained
all but one pound of what I lost during the chemo, which as I’ve mentioned before
is a damned good thing. Every ounce
gained is an ounce of life wrested away from the cancer, since the disease is
competing with me for vital resources.
There is an anti-nausea pill that I usually wind up taking as a
precaution because I never know what might set me off in that regard. I have two rounds of laxatives I need to take
to make sure the pain meds don’t back me up, which they absolutely would do if
left to their own devices, and there is a suppository I have to take if the
laxatives fail. (And I’m happy to report
my system is working out just fine without those so far after some initial
adjustment). I have a daily antacid for
my gastro-esophageal reflux disease which predates getting sick with
cancer. There’s a broncho-dilator I take
as needed to assist with shortness of breath and also Lorazepam to assist with
that and general anxiety, of which I have plenty, especially over my shortness
of breath. I have nine (count ‘em,
nine) alarms set up on my smart phone to assist me with reminders to take said
medication. Yes, this does wake up me
at night but I tend to go right back to sleep after the medicine is
administered. The two times I was
hospitalized and the once I was in The Fountains, nurses took care of these reminders. Some people find such late-night awakenings to be aggravating but I
didn’t; I found being cared for in this fashion to quite comforting.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The little powered hospital bed they’ve fit
me out with is damned near perfect. I
adjust it every night just right and get sort of a box-and-seat kind of
arrangement, leaving me floating on air, which puts me to sleep very fast in
conjunction with the meds. It’s
heavenly. Every now and then pain will
wake me up. As I’ve explained before,
normally this takes the form of what I’d almost describe as a firebrand or a
red hot poker jabbing me where my kidney used to be. In such cases I’m allowed either to take my
next medication early, or to simply add in a dose as an extra. In either case
the dose I’m adding is far less than what was prescribed before we went in to
the Fountains to re-adjust my meds, and normally I get back to sleep quickly. I am left to wonder how bad this will get as
time goes on but right now it’s quite tolerable. I'm doing better and am doing it with fewer pills for now.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I normally get up for the day at about
8:20. Breakfast consists either of Pop
Tarts, Eggos, or a bagel, but I’ve been eating less of the latter since my
taste buds revolted and I can no longer really taste the cream cheese. The taste bud problem has not impacted the
other two choices of meal, though.
Lately I’ve been experimenting with eating sugary cereal, which I haven’t
done in a long time due to lactose intolerance (but I take Lactaid before the
meal and so far it’s working out).
Before you look down your nose at me remember what the doctor said: Any food is good food for me in this
environment, and if my taste buds want sweets, give in! For lunch, typically a can of soup,
Spaghetti-O’s with meatballs, or a sandwich.
Dinner varies; a TV dinner or a
quick fast food run is not out of the question, but last night we brought home
a roast chicken from Safeway that was fairly tasty although my taste buds were
trying not to cooperate.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Today after Samantha left me, confident after
taking my vitals that this was as good day as people in my condition tend to get,
I went back to the project I was working on, my anti-clutter project. Essentially, I’m cleaning out drawers. The rule of thumb is that if I (1) haven’t
used it in a year or (2) don’t expect to
use it in six months or (3) don’t know what it is (LOL) then it has to go. Goodwill is reaping a bonanza. I went through one round of this last month;
now I’m digging more deeply.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Tomorrow I’ll continue a project for Deborah
that she desperately needs: a manual on
how to watch TV and Netflix. Our home
systems are complicated. We long joked,
well before I got sick, that if anything ever were to happen to me, Deborah
would never be able to watch TV again.
And I do have to ask: why do
cable companies and other vendors make it so complicated? You practically have to be an electrical
engineer to figure some of this stuff out.
So, I’m making her a manual complete with pictures on how to juggle four
remotes in order to access everything she’ll need in my absence, including
cable on demand, Netflix, how to play the DVD/Blu-ray player, how to play the
iPod through the big speakers, and so on.
My joke on her is that while I fully expect her to get remarried after I’m
gone, I don’t want her to have to do it simply so she can watch TV.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Which, by the way, ought to tell you
something about the level of humor we have in our household toward what is
happening. Both of us are troopers—Deborah
probably more so than I am because she has so much more on her. We face what we have to face head on but we do
not let cancer dampen our spirits.
Enjoying each other’s humorous approach to life has always been part of
who we are and we are determined not to let that change.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Time now for Judge Matthis! Deborah TV project to resume tomorrow.</span><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17709230617703241624noreply@blogger.com0