Fireworks and Things

Fireworks and Things

You know how it goes.

You’re talking with someone. The subject doesn't matter, but the Other Person says, “Say, you know that thing we were talking about earlier? Have you thought about it any further?”

Happens to me all the time. I look at OP, blank expression.

OP says, “I have. What if we used Velcro?”

More blank expression from me.

OP continues, “It would work. The thing wouldn't be too heavy, and we could sew one side of the Velcro to the fabric and use stick-on Velcro on the... thing.” Big smile.

Me: “What are we talking about?”

OP: “You know, Velcro?”

Me: “No. What is the “thing” you want to use Velcro on?”

OP, exasperated expression: “We were just talking about this earlier. You know, the thing we used in the camper.”

OP is clearly noun-challenged. Well, that’s not fair—actually OP has a wonderful vocabulary. OP knows exactly what object OP’s thinking and speaking about. OP can visualize it in three dimensions and in color. OP just begins speaking before remembering its name. Discussions similar to this one but on varying topics occur just about daily.

I have a fairly short fuse with the word “thing.” OP knows this. I have asked numerous times for OP to use any other word, and I mean any (I've suggested “item,” “device,” “object,” etc.), but somehow it’s always “thing.” My fuse is now lit.

I ask, “When were we talking about this?”

OP: “You know, the other day.”

Me, fuse almost burned down: “Give me a hint what we're talking about.”

The fireworks begin. Oh, nothing dramatic. No explosions, or skyrockets, or even pinwheels. No, it’s just a sparkler I’m holding that my short fuse has ignited. It’s pretty, with colored sparks that fly out about six inches before dying.

OP, eyes narrowed: “Don't make fun of me.”

I plead, “Just tell me what you're asking me about.”

Silence. I try again (20-questions style), “Is it bigger than a breadbox? What color is it? What’s it made of? Help me out here.” With a smile, I wiggle the sparkler about.

I notice that OP’s fuse is now exposed, out in the open, and the sparks from my sparkler are getting very close to igniting it. I know from experience that OP’s fuse IS connected to some serious pyrotechnics, and they are NOT pretty. So I stamp out my sparkler.

“I’m sorry. Really. I was just thinking about other stuff, and our earlier conversation got jumbled up with that. Tell me again your idea about the Velcro?”

OP: “I know. I get it. You're just giving me a hard time about saying ‘thing.’” (Searching...) “Oh, you know, the... white... plastic... uh—”

Me, with enthusiasm: “The fence posts! To use as spacers, right? You think Velcro might work?”

OP, fuse snuffed out and cold: “Well, yes. I know they're kind of heavy, but we could always double up on the Velcro. I think it would work!”

Another fireworks show avoided.

But more work needed on “things.”

Bird Activity

Three siblings have left the nest leaving just two behind. One of those two is clearly ready to fledge, but just can't seem to take the plunge. Papa continues to feed the remaining two, and both parents remain nearby. Today we saw several visits to the nest by an adolescent bird, probably a sibling of the two.

Papa says, "Breakfast, you two.  Here.  Don't be greedy, you have to share."

"Daddy!  Come back!"

Then the older brother shows up.

"Brother!  Are you coming back to the nest?"
"Nah.  It's too crowded, and it's more fun out here."

"C'mon!  Fly with me!  You'll like it!"

"I'm too big for this nest.  I'm leaving!"

"Do I do it like THIS?"

"Or like THIS?"
"PLEEEEEASE don't leave me"

Backyard Drama

One nice thing about retirement is the ability to sit at the kitchen counter at lunch time staring out into the back yard.  Yesterday, thus occupied, I noticed a sparrow-sized bird of dull tan coloring checking out each small gap between the patio roof rafters.  She was obviously seeking a nesting site.

Every spring I’ve seen sparrows do the same, but they quickly move on and I’ve never had a bird nest in that area.  The “nesting surface” is only three inches wide, and there’s no way to secure a nest there.  The first strong gust of wind will blow it out onto the concrete patio below.

This gal was an optimist.  She selected her spot, commenced gathering building supplies, and soon had a small pile of grass, trigs and leaves up there.  The breeze promptly blew most of them down.  Undaunted, she continued bringing materials.  Her pile grew, but now she was spending more time weaving them together before venturing off for a new beak-full.  The wind was no longer stealing her collection.

 About that time I also noticed a similar sized bird with a bright red-orange head and throat.  He would perch in a small, potted bougainvillea about 15 feet away from the nesting female and just sing and sing.  I looked him up in our Birds of Texas Handbook and learned that he was a male House Finch.  I took a picture of him.  I had to do so through a window and it’s fuzzy, but this will give you an idea:

 

 

THEN I noticed that every time the nest-builder flew off to gather materials, he followed in the same direction.  And every time she returned, he was right back singing on his perch.  I got it!  They were mates, and he was letting her do the building while he just advised her on the selection of materials.  Typical male, right?  At least he was smart enough to get out of the way while she was doing the skilled work.

After about a dozen round trips together my suspicion was confirmed.  She was arranging her materials as the nest was taking shape, and a sparrow flew up to the adjacent spot as if to consider its own nest there.  (See picture below.)

 

 Well, Mr. Redhead was having none of that!  In a flash he flew up to that sparrow, fluttered and squawked aggressively until the sparrow flew to the ground.  Not satisfied with that, this alpha male followed the sparrow down and confronted him there!  The sparrow, clearly a pacifist, opted to depart the area.  Mr. Redhead strutted a bit, looked all around, flew up to the nesting spot to ensure all was okay, and then resumed his perch in the bougainvillea, singing loudly.

 Late in the afternoon she had just about completed her work.  Whenever I went outside with the camera both birds flew off, so here’s another shot of the nest, with bird in residence, taken through a screened window:

 

 

Hopefully she has the nest secured sufficiently that the wind will leave it alone until eggs are produced, hatched, and the little ones can fly.  I’ll let you know.

You don't see a baby moose every day

This came to me today in a forwarded email, so I can't verify its authenticity.  But hey, the pictures are sure cute!     A baby moose was in distress in a creek.  A man got him out of the creek; tried to find the mother and send him on his way, but eventually the moose stumbled back into the creek and was rescued again.   The baby moose followed the man home.  The man has only a small cabin so he took the moose to another neighbor, who took these photos. They took the moose the next day to a woman who looks after wild animals and she put it in a pen with a rescued fawn.

The Joys of Medicare

This isn’t a rant, although it’s tempting.  No, this is just a few curiosities about the inner workings of the Medicare system as I attempt to interact with them.

I opted into Medicare part B later than most, after retiring in my 67th year.  But I had been covered by my employer’s plan until then so all was fine.  About 10 months later I was scheduled for a routine physical exam, including a couple of tests.  Medicare promptly declined payment for the exam and the tests.

I phoned the Medicare 800 number, fought through prompts and a lengthy hold before being connected to a very articulate and well-informed representative.  After review he informed me that the problem was all in the coding of the claim.  The doctor had submitted the claim as a “routine physical exam,” but under Medicare I was not eligible for that code until I had been in part B for 12 months.  Then the representative brightly informed me that if the claim were resubmitted as a “welcome to Medicare” visit, it would be covered.

Okay.  How about the tests?

The answer, also delivered brightly, was that those would also be covered if resubmitted under a different code.  I asked which code he would suggest.  He said he was precluded from making suggestions for fraud prevention reasons, but assured me that “any code would do, other than the one that was used.”

Okay.  Gee, that sounded like very effective fraud prevention, wouldn’t you agree?  (Sarcasm font needed.)

Then last Tuesday I went to a dermatologist for a routine screening.  He found a small mole on my back that he wanted to biopsy, telling me it was probably benign but he thought he detected a color change and “better safe than sorry.”  I readily agreed.  (Duh!  That’s why I go see the guy!)

The phone call came yesterday that I had a BCC (“basal cell carcinoma”).  These are fairly innocent little skin cancers that rarely spread (metastasize), and are almost always successfully treated by removal of all the affected tissue.  Especially after early detection.  (Note to reader:  Routine dermatological screenings are a GOOD IDEA!)  The doctor wanted to schedule me for a return appointment to remove surrounding tissue to ensure complete removal of all affected cells.  This is typically done in the office (outpatient) under local anesthesia by freezing or burning around the biopsied area.

I was offered May 14 for an appointment, and of course agreed.  In the interest of getting rid of the cancerous cells as quickly as possible, I mentioned that I would be available all of the week prior to the 14^th if there were an opening.  I was told, “Oh, we can’t schedule you any earlier because Medicare requires a waiting period.”

Excuse me?  More fraud prevention?

As I wrote at the beginning, this is not a rant.  But if the diagnosis had been a melanoma or something more serious, it would be!

Maybe there’s a (good?) reason.  But I’m curious, and plan to do a little more research to see if I can find it, and the “logic” behind it.  I’ll let you know.

More violence

The mass stabbing attack at a Houston-area community college this morning just keeps rattling around in my head. 

I’ll confess that my first impulse was a desire to post a sarcastic comment about the need for outlawing “assault knives” and for background checks prior to the legal purchase of sharp objects.  But that would trivialize both the serious nature of the event and the thoughtful calls for action by people on BOTH SIDES of the gun-control arguments.

 I could already hear dismissive responses along the lines of, “Sure, 14 are injured following the stabbing attack, but 20 people DIED in Newtown!”

 My response to that line of thought is that it trivializes the violence done in the stabbings!  Think about it: how much violence is permissible?  I mean, if no one actually dies, does that make it okay?  Of course not.  If only one or two dies, is that better than 20?  “Better” becomes difficult to define.

 So is there a balance of any kind here? 

I think the vast majority would agree that an end to violent attacks against groups of relatively innocent and vulnerable people should stop.  And there’s little question that automatic-fire weapons with a very short delay to reload (large magazines) are a much more efficient method of causing maximum carnage than most others.  Well, excluding Weapons of Mass Destruction (nuclear, chemical and biological).  And truck bombs (Oklahoma City).  And car bombs and suicide bombs of all kinds.  And hijacking planeloads of people and crashing them into area where lots of people are.  And derailing high-speed passenger trains.  Or maybe stealing a tank truck full of flammable liquid (I’m getting really out there) and spraying it over a large crowd with ignition sources around.  And on, and on. 

But yes, guns are good at killing.  So . . . we can demonize the weapons and pass laws to make them more difficult to obtain.  But will that stop their use?  People will always find ways to circumvent the laws, if that’s their mindset.

 Is our culture of violence, from video games to Hollywood to literature, the problem?  If so, can it be changed?  Human history (millennia of it) tells me that rare is the culture that successfully avoids violent responses to certain acts, and that culture does not last very long.

 I’m left with the belief that we are not going to stop these acts of senseless violence, and there are limits to what we can do to protect citizens, whether children or not.  Although I believe we should (and will) do what we can with the resources we have, the bottom line is we’re going to have killings.

 I’d love to hear of a solution that we could all (literally) live with.

Great Alarm!

Our camper trailer is parked beside our driveway when we’re not using it (which is most of the time).  We’ve long been aware that when the trailer is NOT there we might as well put up a billboard announcing, “HEY, BURGLARS!  WE’RE OUT OF TOWN!”

 So when a home security salesperson stopped by in 2010 with a competitive offer for system installation and monitoring, we signed up.  And we’ve been happy with our decision for going on three years now.  By the way, we committed that if we were going to pay to HAVE this system, we were darn sure going to USE it.  So every time we leave the house (no exceptions), we arm the system.

 We learned that it’s easy to search public records for reports of break-ins or burglaries in our small town, and there had been very few in our neighborhood – but still we felt better with the system in place and in use.  Then last year (2012) our next-door neighbor came home one Tuesday mid-morning and surprised burglars in her home!  They ran, getting away with almost nothing.  Lucky for her!  But you can imagine how that made us feel.  About three months later the house directly across the street was ransacked on a Saturday afternoon!  We’re REALLY happy to have this system.

 Well, today we left the house at 12:56 pm to go play golf.  Yes, we armed the alarm.

 ASIDE:  I know.  It’s January.  And many of my Facebook and Blog friends live where it’s freezing and nasty right now.  I’m NOT trying to rub in the fact that it was 78 degrees here today with a nice south to southeast breeze blowing.  But, there it is.

 As we were walking off the first green at about 1:20, Carol’s cell phone rang.  Our alarm company was calling to tell us that there was an apparent entry through our laundry room door at 1:12 pm, and since they were unable to raise anyone at the house the authorities had been called and were on site at that time.  The police had reported no sign of an intruder or of anything having been displaced.  The caller suggested we might want to check with the police.

 YIKES!!

I called the police dispatcher (didn’t want to use 911 – this wasn’t an emergency after all) and was reassured that the officer had found the door unsecured, checked the house, locked the door and left.  If we wanted them to be present when we returned they would be glad to do so. 

 Our appetite for golf had waned, so we headed home.  Found nothing out of place.  Whew.

 We assume that the last one of us to use that door had just not pulled it shut hard enough to engage the latch.  And then a gust of that southeast breeze pushed it ajar. 

Or, perhaps… someone saw us leave together, waited about 15 minutes, tried the back door to see if they might get lucky, heard the alarm panel start squawking, and ran.  We’ll never know for sure. 

But like I said, we have a great alarm!  We’re happier than ever that we got it!

(Oh, and that neighbor who surprised the burglars in her home?  She has the same alarm system now in her home!)

Teased by "Anonymous"

In a very old blog post (May, 2008) I wrote of offering an item for sale on eBay that was rejected as unsuitable, according to that online auction site's standards.  You can read about it all here:
http://cherishauthor.blogspot.com/2008/05/meet-hatefuldiscriminatory-nazi-porn.html#comments

Frankly I'd nearly forgotten the post and the item in question, until Blogger sent me an email a couple of weeks ago that a new comment had been written.  You can see it on the link above -- it's the next-to-last comment and it's from "anonymous."

He (maybe she?) asks if I still have the inappropriate item, as he collects such things and would love to have it.  Gee, sure!  Sounds great.  Let's talk.

But wait.  How do I communicate with Anonymous?  I have no identity, no email address, no number to send a text to, NOTHING.  I did the only thing I could think of to do, and that was to place another comment below his saying yes, I had the item, and please contact me here's my email.  That was two weeks ago, and do you think I've received an email?  Nope.

My conclusion is that Anonymous either: A) is an idiot, B) was drunk when he wrote the comment and has forgotten about it, C) either/both A and B (a drunk idiot) who doesn't realize that Blogger does not send me his contact information when he posts a comment and is disappointed that I've ignored him.  Another possibility is that he's a tease, knows that I'll want to contact him but can't, and enjoys creating frustration in others.

I expect that everyone who reads this (if anyone does) will leave an anonymous comment begging me to sell them the item for BIG $$ if I'll just contact them ASAP.  Go for it, if that floats your boat.  But be careful; Blogger just MIGHT keep track of your IP address and send it to me -- you never know!

New Computer!

This will probably resonate with everyone who reads it.  Why?  Because you're probably reading it on a computer.  Okay, I know, you can read blogs on a "mobile device" as well as a computer, but still. . .  You remember the last time you bought a new computer, right?  Exciting?  For some it's just a tool or an appliance and thus no big deal.  For me, a closet geek, it's cool!

Why am I getting a new computer?  Best reason ever:  The old one died.  It was 5 years old (almost 6), and had been close to state of the art when I bought it (dual-core processor, 4GB of ram, and a 250GB hard drive -- and it boasted the brand new operating system, Windows Vista!  Wow!)  And frankly, even last week (before its untimely demise) it was fast and powerful enough for most of what I used it for.  Some software seemed to take a long time to load; Photoshop was the worst, and it had started to freeze on me occasionally.  But I had no plans to upgrade in the near future.

How did it die?  I don't know exactly.  I left the house with the computer on, everything normal.  I returned about an hour later and found it powered down.  That was unusual.  I pressed the power button.  The fan started and ran for maybe one second, then stopped.  I tried again; same result.

Without boring you with the details of my diagnostic efforts, nothing I tried helped.  I took it to a local repair shop, waited 4 days, and learned that the motherboard was shot (some bulging, leaking capacitors and other failed electronics, the power supply was suspect, and my video card had problems.  All of this could be fixed (parts replaced), but then I'd still have a 6-year-old machine.  The technician suggested my money would be better spent toward a replacement.

So . . .  I have now ordered a Dell machine with an Intel core i7 processor, 12GB of ram, Windows 8 OS, and lots more.  I figure it's 3-5 times more powerful than my old box, and it cost 1/3 less!  Ah, progress!

It is supposed to ship from Dell in about a week, and should be here a few days later.  Meanwhile I'm subsisting with an iPad and smart phone -- life is tough, right?

I'm looking forward to Christmas coming early this year!

(OH!  I wanted to be sure to include this . . .  Last time I ordered from Dell I learned that if you ask for some price help (a discount), they'll give you one!  But if you don't ask, they won't offer!  When I told the telephone sales rep I would buy if I could get the price down about $200, she put me on hold while she "spoke to her supervisor," then came back and offered me interest-free financing instead.  I declined that offer, and again asked for a price reduction.  Without even going through the act of  asking anyone, she agreed!  Remember this -- it works!)

My increasing cynicism

I am an optimist by nature.  My glass is usually at least 3/4 full.  Frankly, I dislike negativity and negative people.  I try to see the good side of things, and point it out when others around are gripy.  Is "gripy" a word?

Anyway, I'm disturbed to find that with increasing frequency I am disappointed by people, both individuals and groups or organizations.  The stridency, hype, and blatant lies of the recent political campaign is one example, but more and more I see people circumventing laws and rules, twisting the truth until it's no longer recognizable as such, to further their own agenda.

But I wonder: what, if anything, has changed?

Maybe it's me.  Maybe I've finally grown up enough to lose the innocence of youth and see things as they really are.  There has always been a percentage of the population with little or no moral compass or much of a conscience.  This is the group who will play the suckers, work the angles, con the unsuspecting and take, take, take.  But was the percentage always this large?

Remember the 80s?  Jerry Falwell popularized the term "moral majority."  The concept was that most people in the US were moral, honest and upright (and in Jerry's realm, this meant "Christian").  It sounded good, and I accepted the theory that most people were moral, honest and upright.  It was the vocal minority who were trying to ruin things for the rest of us.

Well now, 30 years later, I get the feeling that majority has slid over into the other camp.  There are few people, or statements made by people, that I trust anymore.  I tend to analyze actions and comments in a way I never used to.  "Why did he do/say that?  Did he meant it?  Has he got something to gain, or is he trying to pull something on me?  What's his real motive?"

Of course, there are lots of possible reasons for the apparent spinning of the moral compass needle.  My inclination is to list as chief among them the decline in religious faith I believe has occurred.  And not just Christian faith.  Most major faiths honor honesty, fair dealing, and compassion.

I dunno.  Maybe I'm just in a funk.  Whatever it is, my glass seems to be slowly leaking.

Anybody else feeling this?

Irrelevant?

A little over a year ago, in anticipation of the major lifestyle change of retirement, I posted on my blog a piece titled, “Pre-retirement musings.” 

Here’s an excerpt:

 

When I’m retired no one is going to ask my opinion. And if I offer one, unsolicited, I’ll either be patronized or ignored. I mean, once you retire, you’re no longer “in the game.” Who cares what the retired guy thinks? He’s no longer got a vested interest.

 

I understood that point from observation over the years.  When someone retired from my place of employment, typically he (or she) would call or email periodically to update their work colleagues on whatever they were doing.  The attitude of the work colleagues was, again typically, a collective shrug of dismissal.

 

I determined that I would be different.  I would not show up at the office and expect my working friends to drop what they were doing, welcome me in, and chat for 30 minutes.  I would not phone them, and if I emailed them the focus would be on their lives and jobs, not mine.  And I wouldn’t expect a reply.  (Good thing!  I rarely send any of them an email (usually a copy of a comic strip that satirizes the working environment there – especially some Dilbert strips!), and never get a reply.)

But I’ve recently been seeing not-so-subtle indications of how broad-based the stereotype of “old retired guy = irrelevant” really is.  How?  Well, as anyone who has followed my blog knows, I enjoy expressing my opinion.  As an outworking of that enjoyment I participate in a number of online forums and opinion polling sites.  I mean, why not?  I have the time, and some of those sites offer rewards (like Amazon.com gift cards!) that I really use.  

So, what’s the trouble?  Well, many/most of the polls I complete ask “qualifying” questions at the beginning to identify the demographic of the respondent.  Often they’ll ask for zip code, annual income range, marital status, home ownership vs. rental, and so on.  But just about every poll also asks for age/birth year.  And many ask about employment status.

 If I am honest – indicate my real age and that I’m retired – I’m almost always re-directed to a “no thanks” screen and told to “try again another time.”

But if I then go back, take ten years off my real age and check the “employed full time” box, bingo!  I’m in.  My opinion is then considered valid.  I’m relevant!

I know – that’s cheating!  But the opinions I express are the same as the ones I had 10 years ago!  So am I really cheating?  Do most people’s opinions change in 10 years, once they pass 45 or so?

I'm guessing that most of the groups who write and sell these polls are people in their 20s and 30s.  To them, anyone over 50 is a dinosaur.  When I was 30 I probably felt the same way.  Okay, I DID feel the same way.

Add to that the fear of many younger workers that we baby boomers will suck dry all of their Social Security as we dodder off into oblivion.  No wonder they consider us irrelevant.  Most probably wish they could put us out on the ice floe and let us drift off to . . . wherever.

 Maybe I should dye my gray hair a darker color and lie about my age.  At least then I’d be considered relevant again! 

 That, or be considered even more senile than now. 

 What a choice.  No wonder many old people seniors act bitter!

Perspective

For years I have toyed with the idea of writing a tongue-in-cheek essay (article?  booklet?) on Living With OCD.  That’s Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, for those not into acronyms.  No, I don’t suffer from that mental condition.  The essay would be from the point of view of a husband living with a wife whose habits border on, or cross well over the line into, obsessive.  At least, that has been my perspective over the last 44 years or so.  I used to think of her as simply a perfectionist, but then I learned that acronym.

 

Example?  I subscribe to the philosophy of mind over matter, stated, “If nobody minds, it shouldn’t/doesn't matter.”  So if, say, I allow a single drop of water to fall from the edge of the kitchen sink to the tile kitchen floor, and I fail to blot it up with a paper towel because I know it will dry to invisibility in a few minutes and never be noticed by anybody . . . well, no big deal, right?  I mean, it’s not worth the effort to take any action because it just goes away by itself.  But if my wonderful wife were to notice a drop of water falling to the floor, even if we were on our way out the door – already late – for an important function, she would stop and carefully wipe up the drop and the area for at least a foot all around where it fell to make sure she got all of it up.

 

My response to that action varied with her mood.  If she were in a good mood, I’d sing, “Oh, See, Dee,” to the three-tone tune of the television network NBC.  If she were not in such a good mood I’d turn away and quietly roll my eyes.  Hey, after 44 years of marriage I KNOW she can hear an eye-roll if it’s not done very discretely.  And even then, sometimes.

 

Another example:  When I come in from outside and she tells me to take off my shoes because, “I just vacuumed the floor and I don’t want grit tracked across it!”  I’ll point out that I just carefully wiped off the soles of my shoes on both the outside AND the inside door mats, but her response?  “Take them OFF!”

 

I take them off . . . with another discrete eye roll.

 

In the last few months, however, I’ve noticed a significant change in my attitude.  I retired!  I stopped going to an office 5 days a week, and it’s a wonderful lifestyle change!  In preparation for that major event I made some commitments.  I would NOT be one of those husbands who retired to vegetate and expected his wife to keep on working as a homemaker.  I would establish a fitness routine to keep in shape and control my weight.  I would make the bed, empty the dishwasher, vacuum the carpet and help with the laundry.  Carol and I would be partners, sharing both the inside work and the yard duties.  And I’m proud to say that for the last 6 months I’ve lived up to all of those promises.

 

Within the first three weeks of retirement I washed all the windows in the house, inside and out!  I even did those small glass panes in the top of the overhead garage door.  That hadn’t been done for so long, we were both amazed at how much clearer the view was without the spots and streaks.  We then embarked on a long overdue whole-house cleanup, involving going through every room, closet, cabinet and drawer to remove what we no longer want or use and rearrange the rest.  I’ve made numerous trips to Goodwill and a local church to donate clothing and “stuff.”  We deep steam-cleaned the carpet, repainted woodwork, and just got everything in order.  The whole process took months because we didn’t work on it every day, or for whole days at a time.  Hey, in retirement there’s no time pressure!

 

The results have been very gratifying.  And, I’ve noticed a change in my perspective about things.  A couple of weeks after washing all the windows, while the glow of satisfaction from the noticeable difference was still fresh, I fussed to Carol about some spatter on the pane above the kitchen sink.  I grabbed a paper towel and polished the surface clean. 

 

Then, a week or so after the last carpet had been scrubbed and steam-cleaned, we both came inside from some yard work.  I slipped out of my shoes and looked critically at Carol as she wiped hers and started to walk into the house with them on.  Noticing my look, she paused, nodded, and said, “Makes a difference when YOU’VE been doing the cleaning, doesn’t it.”

 

As she turned back to slip her shoes off, I swear I distinctly heard her eyes roll.  Followed by that familiar three-tone tune from the TV network.

 

Perspective!  I think I'll skip that essay.

A golf rant

I don't rant all that often.  My outlook is generally pretty positive (I always say MY glass is 3/4 full!), or at worst I adopt a "live and let live" attitude.  You know: kinda like, "If that's the way you feel, I respect it but choose to disagree."  And I'll usually state my reasons in a nonconfrontational way.

But not today.

I enjoy golf.  I like it best when I can walk all 18 holes.  No, I don't carry my clubs; that's what those wheeled carts are for -- especially for us retired seniors!  Carol and I will typically walk and play 18 holes in 3 to3 1/2 hours.  On a cool, brisk autumn day we've done it in 2 1/2 with no reall effort to hurry.  The exercise is good for us, and the game is more fun.  But sure, when we're playing a hilly course or it gets much over 90 degrees, we ride.

There is no reason why a round of golf should drag on past 3 1/2 hours!  Even for a foursome walking.  And especially not for a foursome riding in carts, which get you to your ball a lot faster than walking.  So why have our recent rounds taken 4 1/2 hours?

*sigh*  I guess it's because all those foursomes riding in carts are really out on the course to socialize, talk trash, bet on their round and drink beer.  Mostly drink beer.  And that's fine!  Just do all that in 3 1/2 hours, not 4-5!  Or let me and Carol play through!

Why do I care?  Because every minute past 3 1/2 hours is a minute I'm standing and waiting, not sitting on a cushioned cart seat.  Standing and waiting gets tiring, so I'll walk around a bit to find some shade, or take practice swings, or watch the wildlife.  But after a while I begin to focus so much on how much time we're wasting that I lose focus on the golf swing.  I start to play poorly.  I get disgusted and walk in, put our clubs in the car and go home.

That's what happened both yesterday and today.  Yesterday was worse because the starter had joined us up with three other walkers to make us a fivesome.  Soon we were holding up groups behind and Carol and I were chafing to get moving.  We should have been rude, told the three we had someplace we needed to be soon, and left them behind.  We resolved that, rude or not, that's what we'll do if in that situation again.

 I compare slow play to driving on a curvy, hilly two-lane road behind a vehicle going 25 mph under the speed limit, but with no way to pass, and you've got 50 miles to your destination.  Tell me that wouldn't frustrate you!

Hence my rant.  I feel better.  Thanks for listening.

A non-partisan political rant

I've read a number of articles about the recent "Occupy ______ (pick your place)" movement that say the protests are misdirected. The protestors should be directing their disgust and demands for change towards the REAL source of our financial problems: CONGRESS.

Then I received the following fowarded email making the rounds. It resonates with me.

Warren Buffett, in a recent interview with CNBC, offers one of the best quotes about the debt ceiling: "I could end the deficit in 5 minutes," he told CNBC. "You just pass a law that says that anytime there is a deficit of more than 3% of GDP, all sitting members of Congress are ineligible for re-election."

Here is one idea that really should be passed around:

Congressional Reform Act of 2011

1. No Tenure / No Pension.
A Congressman collects a salary while in office and receives no pay when they are out of office.

2. Congress (past, present & future) participates in Social Security.
All funds in the Congressional retirement fund move to the Social Security system immediately. All future funds flow into the Social Security system, and Congress participates with the American people. It may not be used for any other purpose.

3. Congress can purchase their own retirement plan, just as all Americans do.

4. Congress will no longer vote themselves a pay raise. Congressional pay will rise by the lower of CPI or 3%.

5. Congress loses their current health care system and participates in the same health care system as the American people.

6. Congress must equally abide by all laws they impose on the American people.

7. All contracts with past and present Congressmen are void effective 1/1/12.
The American people did not make these contracts with Congressmen. Congressmen made all these contracts for themselves. Serving in Congress is an honor, not a career. The Founding Fathers envisioned citizen legislators, so ours should serve their term(s), then go home and back to work.

Maybe it is time. THIS IS HOW YOU FIX CONGRESS!


Reminds me of the old saying, "If pro is the opposite of con, what's the opposite of progress?"

Pre-retirement musings

Now that I’ve gone public (told top management at my company) that I plan to retire next spring, I’m not exactly waffling . . . but . . .

Oh, the obvious parts of retirement sound great! No more alarm clock buzzing at 4:45 each morning; able to plan my own weekdays for projects or relaxation; able to travel for a day, a week, a month, or a season without worrying about burning vacation; time a-plenty to write fiction or poetry, get out the old guitar and/or banjo and get some calluses on my fingertips again; spend time with Carol doing whatever is important to her, including housework, meal preparation and clean-up, yard work, and more. Regular exercise to keep the body trim. Keeping on top of current events to keep the mind active. Reading. Golf.

Yep, all of that and more, with few constraints from the expectations of others. Sounds really nice.

So where’s the “but?”

Well . . . If I’m going to be honest with myself I have to acknowledge that much of my feelings of self-worth – and thus of self-satisfaction – derive from things I accomplish on the job. I take pride in dealing with employee problems and resolving them. I find it very rewarding to screen, interview, select and hire the “perfect” new employee and watch him/her blossom, grow and get promoted.

When I’m retired no one is going to ask my opinion. And if I offer one, unsolicited, I’ll either be patronized or ignored. I mean, once you retire, you’re no longer “in the game.” Who cares what the retired guy thinks? He’s no longer got a vested interest.

Can I deal with that?

I sure hope so. But that little niggling doubt makes me second-guess my public declaration, just a little. Hmmm.

Guess I’ll find out in about six months.

WOO-HOO! I'm gonna be famous!

Just to prove that whatever you happen to post on the Internet never goes away, I received an email today as follows (name redacted):

Hi, Mr. Earle:

I'm a wildlife rehabilitator who specializes in reptiles and I also lecture about reptiles to train other rehabbers. While preparing a presentation, I saw your photo of turtles on a tree. Would you be willing to grant me permission to use your photograph in my presentation? Full photo credit will be given.

It would be great to have such an excellent example of the climbing ability of turtles to educate wildlife rehabbers.

Best regards,
Xxxx Yyyyyy
Turtle Rescue of New Jersey
New Jersey State Licensed Wildlife Rehabilitator

She was referring, of course, to my well-remembered post of April Fools' Day, 2008, entitled, "Golf Course Hazards."

What? You don't remember it? Well, go ahead and click the link to the title and read it . . . The rest of us will wait here until you get back.

Okay, now that you've refreshed your memory, I'll tell you the rest of the story. I found and sent to her the full-size version of the two photos (the ones in the blog post were compressed), and asked her a few questions.

Here's her response:

Hi, John:

Thank you so much for your kindness!

Me: I’m curious; did you Google “climbing turtles” or something similar and find a link to that old blog post?

Exactly! I used Google Images and found the photo in your "Romantic Ramblings" blog about golf course hazards.

Me: Would you like me to email you (attachment) a higher-resolution version of the shot(s)?

That would be great. I like to use the best quality photos I can find. I do most of my own turtle photography, but never was lucky enough to see tree-climbing turtles!

Many, many thanks! Your photos will now be famous in the turtle rehabilitation world!

Best regards,

Xxxxxx

Now, to be honest, I never even knew there WAS a turtle rehabilitation world. (I'm sure my daughter Amy, who has always loved turtles and everything to do with them, knew.) But hey, fame is fleeting and sometimes is associated with fortune (you've heard the phrase "fame and fortune," right?)

So LOOK OUT WORLD!

And thanks, Xxxxx Yyyyyyy. May you cause many thousands of turtles to be rehabbed by you and your trainees, as needed!

Attitude

The quote below is attributed to Charles Swindoll. It's well known; likely you've seen it before.

“The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company... a church... a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past. We cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our attitudes."

While I think all of it is true and worthwhile, I particulary like the last two sentences.

It seems that today most people would reverse those percentages, believing from their heart that life is controlled 90% (or even 100%) by external, outside factors. Their life is, to them, all about what happens TO them; what others do TO them; bad luck; bad karma; bad genes. It's not their fault, and it's all beyond their control.

Well, maybe so. We all know that "stuff" happens. Life throws us all kinds of curves.

Often I see others get angry and rail at God, or fate, or institutions, or just other people. Sometimes, it's tempting to join them. When I do join them, I usually wonder later what my problem was.

I guess an example of my philosophy is demonstrated in the posts just below, about the railroad crossing. At the time I was delayed, I was angry. But I asked myself how I should best respond or react to the frustration, and was soon able to put things in perspective. Sure, I wasted 35 minutes of time and was late for work. So what!? Hardly worth getting sour about. Besides, I had a chance to offer the railroad some suggestions which might make the situation better in the future.

'nuff said. As Mr. Swindoll writes, "WE are in charge of our attitudes." That means you can change yours!

Might make your life better. Think about it.

End of the story -- maybe.

(See the prior two posts for the first emails.)

One week later . . .


Ivan,

A quick follow-up: Yesterday afternoon I approached Bloomington from the south (commuting home this time) to see the gates coming down. A train slowly moved across the highway, again from east to west, and stopped after only about a dozen railcars had passed the highway. I had a strong sense of déjà-vu.

However, THIS time the train was only stopped for 3-4 minutes before it began backing up (ONE song on the radio). It cleared the intersection promptly and traffic moved on.

The contrast was stark. This was to me the way it ought to happen (IF the railroad has no choice but to switch cars across a highway intersection, a practice I would hope UP would try to avoid if it could). Now granted, this was almost certainly a MUCH shorter train. But the length of time elapsed while it was stopped also seemed appropriate and prudent.

I don’t intend to re-open a dialogue that I think is completed — just to let you know that RR crossing delays of moderate duration are expected and at worst usually only a source of mild irritation. Also there was MUCH less traffic at 3:45 pm than during the morning commute.

Thanks again for “listening.”

John Earle


Mr. Earle,

The size of the train absolutely plays a role, as do the different crews. Our employees must have a detailed "job briefing" on the moves to be made to ensure a safe operation. When you are dealing with a smaller train or cut of cars, it reduces the complexity of the moves and thus the job briefing required (how many tracks will the cars go into, how many switches will be lined, how long will the move take, etc.). I hope this helps...

Ivan Jaime


Okay.

I guess.

I don't plan to write him again.

I DID copy those phone numbers he provided (including his direct line!) into my cell phone contacts.

I'm disappointed that he never addressed my question about why the train couldn't move completely through (past) the intersection and THEN stop for 12 minutes to conduct their briefing, allowing road traffic to proceed.

Or my seemingly obvious but unwritten question: Why wait until the train is stopped across a highway and blocking all morning commute and school traffic, and THEN conduct your briefing? Why not stop the train short of the intersection, brief everybody, then pull forward, stop, and immediately reverse?

Unfortunately the answer is probably this: The railroad's priorities have nothing to do with traffic flow, and everything to do with moving their freight safely. This is not wrong, per se, but it seems to me that there are ways to accomplish their objectives while "operations managers try to handle their business with as limited an impact on the community as possible."

If anyone reading this knows someone who works for a railroad and would like to correct my misconceptions, please feel free to weigh in. Absent that, I'm left with the impression that Union Pacific really doesn't care as much about their "impact on the community" as they would like us to believe.

Am I being unfair?

The rest of the exchange

(See the prior post for the lead-in letter.)

Hello Mr. Earle,

First, let me apologize for your experience last Thursday and for your thoughtful email below. I will look into the matter and ask my counterpart in Houston to contact you soon to discuss the issue further. I will not attempt to answer each of your questions, until we learn exactly what happened that day. In short, there are many scenarios which may have played out. It does in fact take a decent amount of time to stop a train, line a switch, and get it moving again. Moreover, only Signal employees or police officers may lift a gate to allow vehicular traffic to proceed.

We will get back with you soon. Please let me know if I can be of further assistance in the mean time. Thank you.

Ivan Jaime



Mr. Jaime,

Thanks for the prompt response.

I have wondered in the past if it was legal for railroad employees to hold up the gates, although perhaps they were “Signal” employees. It seems to me that the potential liability could be huge if a mistake were made. Next time gates appear stuck perhaps motorists should call the closest law enforcement office. But in this case that would have been the Victoria County Sheriff’s office, at least 20 minutes away and not a good solution.

I suppose my only remaining question involves the need to move so much of a train so slowly across a highway intersection and then, after a 12-minute stoppage, back it up even more slowly until it clears. The only answer that presents itself to me is, assuming a switch was being lined up, that the location of the switch was so close to the intersection that the train had to proceed that far to clear the switch. If that is the case, likely relocating the switch is not feasible and there is no good solution for this occasional problem. Or, just a thought here, perhaps during prime commuting time the entire train could be moved through the intersection and then stopped for 12 minutes while traffic flowed. Then the train could back up across the intersection and through the lined-up switch and again clear the intersection. Maybe? But perhaps there was other rail traffic invisible to me that prevented this solution as well.

And it’s also likely that UP doesn’t have the option of scheduling these road closures at some time other than prime commute time. If it did, the middle of the night would seem ideal. But obviously you can’t schedule all your switching activities at night. So I suppose the situation is not the result of inattention or lack of caring by UP at all.

It really isn’t necessary to provide me with a more detailed explanation of the events of that day. I feel better for having vented to you.

Thanks again for listening/reading.

John Earle



Mr. Earle,

It is interesting that you nailed pretty much what happened. After digging a bit deeper, it appears that there was a long train moving from Houston to the border that had to "set-out" half of its rail cars at the Bloomington Yard. After moving past the switch, the crew had to line the switch and have a proper job briefing of the move to be made. They then made the move back into the yard, at which time the gates got stuck. We don't expect this to happen very frequently, and rest assured that our operations managers try to handle their business with as limited an impact on the community as possible.

I'd like to leave you with a few telephone numbers just in case. You may feel free to dial (800) 848.8715 to report malfunctioning gate signals, blocked crossings, or any other situation that you may encounter with the railroad. If you have an immediate emergency, you may instead dial (888) 877.7267, which will connect you to our emergency command center. Finally, you can always call me if you need to vent or if you have any general questions. My contact information is below.

Again, thank you for your patience and understanding. Have a great week.

Ivan Jaime


You'll notice he didn't address a few of my suggestions. There was a bit more follow up from this week. I'll share that tomorrow.

When I think it might help . . .

I write letters (or emails). Here's a recent exchange that ought to be self-explanatory. Mr. Jaime is a public relations official with Union Pacific Railroad.



Mr. Jaime,

I found your contact information on a “UP in Texas” web site. I’ll try to make this concise.

In Bloomington (Victoria County), TX, an active (busy) UP line crosses Highway 185, a likewise busy commuting route on early morning and early evening weekdays—a route I commute on. I’d like to describe my experience Tuesday morning 10/13. Unfortunately it wasn’t as rare as I would wish.

Then I’d like to ask a few questions.

I drove into Bloomington from Victoria, and pulled to a stop at the end of a 4-block-long line of traffic stopped for the railroad crossing. I could see the crossing arms down and lights flashing, and made out a dim outline of tank cars proceeding slowly from east to west. Time: 6:21 AM in pre-dawn darkness.

This happens at least once every week or two, so . . . no big deal. I allow an extra 15-20 minutes (from experience) to avoid being late for work.

The train slowed, and at 6:25 it stopped completely, blocking the road.

Now count off 12 minutes. Visualize the line of commuters behind me growing longer and longer. Horns begin to blow. Cars begin to bail out left and right onto side streets seeking an open route around the stopped train. Frustration mounts as no one is sure if the train will move again, much less when.

At 6:37 the railcars begin inching the other direction (from west to east). The train is backing up! Well, at least it was moving. For 6 minutes the tank cars crept across the road. It was now light enough to see them clearly. Eventually, the locomotives also passed. Time was now 6:43 AM.

Trucks and cars began to inch forward in anticipation of the gates going up. Then all stopped. The gates stayed down. Minutes passed. MORE minutes passed!

As you can imagine, cars began driving around the stuck crossing arms. I saw a number of near-miss collisions as other commuters, desperate to get to their jobs, broke the law. Exacerbating the problem were school busses and tank trucks that would not cross the tracks while the lights flashed (as they shouldn’t, but of course, neither should the rest of us!)

When my turn came, I too broke the law and crossed the tracks. Time: 6:51 AM. No train was in sight other than the one that had blocked the road for so long; it was about a half-mile away. In the now-clear daylight I could see no UP employees nearby and wondered if anyone knew the gates were stuck. I called the number for Union Pacific, Bloomington. A man answered, “Union Pacific.” I said (in a not very kind tone, I’ll admit), “Do you guys know your crossing gates are stuck down?”

He replied calmly, “Yeah. It’s been turned in and we’re waiting for responders.” I disconnected before I said something ugly. His tone said clearly to me, “. . .and I don’t care!”

Thirty minutes doesn’t sound long, but it seemed an eternity. Yes, I was late for work.

That tale describes my frustration. Now that I’ve cooled off I’d like to ask a few questions. I debated putting these in a letter to the editor of the Victoria paper, but decided the more mature course would be to ask you.

First, to satisfy my curiosity (since it happens with some regularity), what is going on when 60 railcars of a train cross an intersection, the train stops, and nothing moves for over 10 minutes? Does it take that long to throw a switch so the train can back up and add or remove cars? Is there a crew change, and if so, does it take that long? With miles of switchyard just east of Bloomington, is it really necessary to block this intersection while switching cars?

I admit, I’m ignorant of the workings of your business. Likely valid reasons exist for these practices. Unfortunately, most members of the general commuting public are also ignorant and, like me, assume in their ignorance that the railroad doesn’t care if traffic and lives are disrupted, and simply blocks intersections needlessly because it can.

Next question: Was that employee all alone when I called? I’ve seen railroad employees in the past (at Bloomington) who would hold open a crossing gate arm when no train was present or would be moving for a while, to allow highway traffic to proceed across the tracks. If Mr. “we’re waiting for responders” had another employee or two around, he could have done wonders for UP’s public image by having one or two of those employees visibly help traffic move.

I understand the inherent danger of proximity to moving objects weighing a quarter of a million pounds each, and thus the need to be very careful and deliberate. Still, in my ignorance of railroad practices, policies and procedures, it just doesn’t seem like what I witnessed yesterday should happen.

Please help me to understand.


John Earle


(For my next post, I'll publish his response. And then the rest of the correspondence.)