Though I don't know who you might be dear reader, I'd be willing to make a small wager, say ten bucks, that the most crowed room in your house is the closet near the front door where you keep your outside coats. Despite all the fretting by the President over our condition, we middle class Americans do have quite an abundance of stuff. It is stuff we have been building up for generations, but the build up really took off in the 80's when the ascendance of Reagan conservatism obliterated any slight embarrassment one might have felt about his or her stock of goods when John Kennedy or Jimmy Carter was President. The remarkable multiplication of our recreational activities over the last 30 years has also added to our sense of what we need to have somewhere in the house. Especially if you live in one of those humble dwellings built before 1980, I bet your front closet is packed.
This came to mind with the recent acquisition of a winter coat by my good wife. It is said to be a replacement for another that has become obsolete. However the old coat does not appear to be on its way out. It certainly is still hanging there on the pole, crushed between a lot of like members. Our daughter called recently to report that it is growing cold in Virginia and she cannot find the blanket-like thing she puts on her two year old to take him in the stroller. She wondered if she had left it here after her last visit. The ensuing search took me to our front closet. It wasn't really necessary to empty the whole thing to know the missing item was not there, but I just got curious. Here is the data.
Total number of garments: 41, 13 men's and 28 women's, consisting of 8 scarves, 15 vests and fleeces, 5 parkas, 3 light jackets, 2 mid weight jackets, 2 full length raincoats, 2 heavy wool coats, and 3 cycling jackets. Stacked in a pile they rise to about 24 inches. There is also a basket holding 25 hats, 4 pairs of rain pants, 12 pairs of gloves, 3 singleton gloves and 1 set of ear muffs. There are 7 umbrellas in the closet. (Candor requires that I add that there are quite a number of men's work coats and biking outfits kept in the basement.)
No coats for Christmas, PLEASE..
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Friday, November 30, 2012
Listen to the Consenants Man!
At 11:30 PM on Thanksgiving Day my wife and I were standing in a line outside the local Windows store waiting for Black Friday where we were about to score a $40 case for my new Surface computer, for free. We were two of about 60 people in line and as we waited a fellow came out of the store with a bag full of T shirts to give to as many of us as possible. They bore the colored four flags Windows logo. As he worked his way up the line he repeated several times that unfortunately he mostly had only two sizes, small and Excell. I didn't get what in the world he meant, but when he got to me it turned out he did have a large and I was glad to receive it. As I did I asked him to repeat what the other sizes were. Again he said, "mostly small and Excell."
I said, "Let me look" and then I saw that sure enough, mostly what he had were Smalls and XL's.
This morning as I got dressed for my workout class I found on the top of the T shirt pile in my dresser drawer, my new Windows shirt. Its turn in the rotation had arrived and I was glad because I planned to stop by the Windows store after exercising to ask some questions about my Surface. I was fully prepared to show my new T shirt should the opportunity arise. I thought it might help make things go well. Well, I got to the store and got to my business. At a certain point we were going over the particulars of my purchase of the Surface two weeks earlier and the fellow asked me if I had got a shirt. I was ready for that. "Yes, I did get a shirt!" I said proudly, opening my coat to reveal same.
The guy looked at me kind of funny like and said, "No. What I asked was, 'Did you get Assurance - when you bought your computer?'" Assurance is the name they have for the insurance one can buy against damage to one's new play thing.
"No," I said, closing my coat.
I said, "Let me look" and then I saw that sure enough, mostly what he had were Smalls and XL's.
This morning as I got dressed for my workout class I found on the top of the T shirt pile in my dresser drawer, my new Windows shirt. Its turn in the rotation had arrived and I was glad because I planned to stop by the Windows store after exercising to ask some questions about my Surface. I was fully prepared to show my new T shirt should the opportunity arise. I thought it might help make things go well. Well, I got to the store and got to my business. At a certain point we were going over the particulars of my purchase of the Surface two weeks earlier and the fellow asked me if I had got a shirt. I was ready for that. "Yes, I did get a shirt!" I said proudly, opening my coat to reveal same.
The guy looked at me kind of funny like and said, "No. What I asked was, 'Did you get Assurance - when you bought your computer?'" Assurance is the name they have for the insurance one can buy against damage to one's new play thing.
"No," I said, closing my coat.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Prostate Cancer
I've got it. I've known for about a year and a half. Here are some facts.
Most forms of PC are very slow growing.
There are a handful of ways to measure the severity or threat of PC and in my case all such measures are low.
In the last year or so the medical community has, to say the least, lost enthusiasm for a common screening test and some authorities now discourage routine testing. It is considered most likely that a person will die with the disease rather than from it.
There are several treatments options available in addition to simply monitoring the cancer.
I know a number of guys who have had success with seed implantation and I have available to me a radiologist with a lot of experience and apparent competence.
All options carry a risk of negative side effects including urinary and/or bowel incontinence, and impotency. These are of variable severity and duration. If your luck is bad you could be permanently affected.
Death from PC is painful.
If one has radioactive seed implantation and later the cancer returns, neither surgical removal of the prostate or another application of seeds is possible. I believe you just have to go down with the disease.
I am 74 years old and prideful regarding my good health.
My grandfather, (the one who didn't get hit by a streetcar while in a state of uncertain sobriety) lived into his 90's as did my father and aunt.
My mother ended her life virtually comatose for a long time with Alzheimer's.
In the light of these facts I am faced with deciding what to do, Should I get some seeds or should I just monitor the situation and see what develops? The first insight that came to me as I began to consider these choices was just how much I have been expecting, planning and wanting to live into my mid 90's. At the same time I worry about ending like my mom.
One can think of a number of reasons for delaying treatment. The more the delay, the less time after treatment for a new cancer to appear. (The cause(s) of PC is (are) apparently unknown.) The situation is full of uncertainties. I think I need some additional information even though some of it is only of a probabilistic nature. What are the chances of a recurrence of the disease if it is successfully treated? Does delaying treatment decrease the chance of success and if so how does the chance of success relate to age, tumor size, and general health? Does the probability of serious side effects increase with age? Are there better treatments on the horizon? Since I think dying from cancer is much better than lingering with dementia, if dementia is in my future, I'll be glad I have the cancer. It will save me the trouble of blowing my brains out.
Most forms of PC are very slow growing.
There are a handful of ways to measure the severity or threat of PC and in my case all such measures are low.
In the last year or so the medical community has, to say the least, lost enthusiasm for a common screening test and some authorities now discourage routine testing. It is considered most likely that a person will die with the disease rather than from it.
There are several treatments options available in addition to simply monitoring the cancer.
I know a number of guys who have had success with seed implantation and I have available to me a radiologist with a lot of experience and apparent competence.
All options carry a risk of negative side effects including urinary and/or bowel incontinence, and impotency. These are of variable severity and duration. If your luck is bad you could be permanently affected.
Death from PC is painful.
If one has radioactive seed implantation and later the cancer returns, neither surgical removal of the prostate or another application of seeds is possible. I believe you just have to go down with the disease.
I am 74 years old and prideful regarding my good health.
My grandfather, (the one who didn't get hit by a streetcar while in a state of uncertain sobriety) lived into his 90's as did my father and aunt.
My mother ended her life virtually comatose for a long time with Alzheimer's.
In the light of these facts I am faced with deciding what to do, Should I get some seeds or should I just monitor the situation and see what develops? The first insight that came to me as I began to consider these choices was just how much I have been expecting, planning and wanting to live into my mid 90's. At the same time I worry about ending like my mom.
One can think of a number of reasons for delaying treatment. The more the delay, the less time after treatment for a new cancer to appear. (The cause(s) of PC is (are) apparently unknown.) The situation is full of uncertainties. I think I need some additional information even though some of it is only of a probabilistic nature. What are the chances of a recurrence of the disease if it is successfully treated? Does delaying treatment decrease the chance of success and if so how does the chance of success relate to age, tumor size, and general health? Does the probability of serious side effects increase with age? Are there better treatments on the horizon? Since I think dying from cancer is much better than lingering with dementia, if dementia is in my future, I'll be glad I have the cancer. It will save me the trouble of blowing my brains out.
Friday, November 2, 2012
To Vote Or Buy A Lotto Ticket, That Is The Question
Well the answer is pretty obvious, you should buy a lotto ticket. Since your one vote will only matter if all the others who vote happen to add up to a tie or one vote difference in favor of the candidate you don't like, and the chances of that in a large election are virtually zero, there is no real likelihood that your vote makes any difference at all. With the electoral college system the voters in your state would have to tie AND the electoral college outcome would have to be so close that your state would matter. Apparently if you live in Ohio you have a chance for that this year. The odds against winning the super ball lotto may be long, but they can't be as long as the chance that your one vote will matter.
Oh, does this rub you the wrong way? Were you actually planning to vote? Well so was I and I still am - though it makes NO sense.
But what has me musing tonight at about 3:30 AM is that this year it seems that the campaigns have become much more cognizant of how the electoral college works, or if in fact they have always targeted the "battle ground states", this is the first time the media have covered that fact so thoroughly. Every time that we hear that it is Ohio and a few others that really matter we are being reminded of the insignificance of our own vote. In other words we are being reminded of the unhappy truth of the first paragraph over and over again. What is rational is for the campaigns to get out the vote of their candidate's constituency in those states where the outcome is uncertain and where the electoral votes are enough to effect the outcome. It is thought to be good for the country for everyone to vote so that there is a sense that the outcome really reflects the choice of the population. The election is given legitimacy. But with the new sophistication of the campaigns, or the media, whichever it is, will the rational behavior of the campaigns tend to reduce voter turn out in the future? That is really the question I'm musing over tonight.
Oh yes, and if you are reading this blog you're financial condition is probably such that you could not possibly miss a dollar a week out of you disposable income. This makes it completely rational to buy a lotto ticket though the chance of winning is disappearingly small.
Oh, does this rub you the wrong way? Were you actually planning to vote? Well so was I and I still am - though it makes NO sense.
But what has me musing tonight at about 3:30 AM is that this year it seems that the campaigns have become much more cognizant of how the electoral college works, or if in fact they have always targeted the "battle ground states", this is the first time the media have covered that fact so thoroughly. Every time that we hear that it is Ohio and a few others that really matter we are being reminded of the insignificance of our own vote. In other words we are being reminded of the unhappy truth of the first paragraph over and over again. What is rational is for the campaigns to get out the vote of their candidate's constituency in those states where the outcome is uncertain and where the electoral votes are enough to effect the outcome. It is thought to be good for the country for everyone to vote so that there is a sense that the outcome really reflects the choice of the population. The election is given legitimacy. But with the new sophistication of the campaigns, or the media, whichever it is, will the rational behavior of the campaigns tend to reduce voter turn out in the future? That is really the question I'm musing over tonight.
Oh yes, and if you are reading this blog you're financial condition is probably such that you could not possibly miss a dollar a week out of you disposable income. This makes it completely rational to buy a lotto ticket though the chance of winning is disappearingly small.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Election 2012 - part II
Well, there's another debate tonight. The prez has slipped in the polls to even or trailing. It looks sort of bleak, but does it really matter? Over the past few years the custom has evolved in the Senate for the minority party to exercise a veto by filibustering any legislation they do not want brought to the floor for a vote. They do not even have to carry out the filibuster. They only need to threaten it and nothing gets acted upon. The majority party needs sixty votes to override the tactic and such a majority seldom exists. What once was a rare tactic is now commonplace. In all the history of the Senate 1/3 of the uses of this parliamentary device have occurred in the last few years. I think we can look forward to continued gridlock irrespective of who is elected President. Nonetheless there are a couple of places where the election matters. Foreign policy is one where the office still seems to have power to direct the path of the nation. Appointment of Supreme Court Justices still matters. And the executive still can provide lax or vigorous regulation of the existing codes in finance, health care, and the environment. In particular the Dodd-Franks financial regulation bill of a couple of years ago remains unfulfilled due to lack of appointments of critical personnel. Part of the reason for the financial meltdown of 2008 was that the Bush appointed head of the Security and Exchange Commission didn't really believe in doing his job. He thought markets were self regulating. You can imagine who the former CEO of Bain Capital would appoint to carry out the regulation established by Dodd-Franks. So it does matter who gets elected.
What I would like to see in this campaign is for the President to make the case that the Democratic party has shown itself to be the best for the country historically. It is the Democrats who have given us Social Security, Medicare, environmental protection, auto safety, and the most effective economic policies. He should run on the record of his party for the past 60 years as well as his own. He should do all he can to get Democrats into the House and Senate. I would like this election to be a referendum on the policies of the two parties. If the people want Republicanism, let 'em have it. They'll get what they deserve. Unfortunately their children will get it too.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
2012 Election
Just to get this out of the way, I'll be voting for Obama.
Here's a list of bad places to live in 2012. Syria, Afghanistan, Iraq, Ohio, Nevada, Colorado, Pennsylvania and the rest of the "battle ground states". The sobriquet is now a cliche, but what a great descriptor it is. In all these states somebody is destroying any joy that might be found in life by blasting away at their opponents with unending and I presume inescapable political ads. In these political battles it is not a matter of damage collateral to some other target. The very targets are the innocent residents. I'm so glad to be missing it. It is nearly enough to make me like the Electoral College voting system. Thanks founding fathers.
I watched the first debate last night. According to the pundits Romney did pretty well. If going in you thought he was a halt-of-speech dope you found out differently. He's obviously a smart guy, by now well versed in his message. If you thought because Obama can write and deliver an inspiring speech, that he is a great extemporaneous speaker you must not have been listening to his unscripted talks with reporters. He speaks slowly, thoughtfully and with pauses as he carefully chooses his words. His normal speech does not flow smoothly. I think if one were to read what was said by the debaters, instead of hear it, the impression of who offered the most compelling substance would be quite different. Romney's main point, which he repeated many times, was that he wants to reduce unemployment (and just who doesn't) and in order to do so he would not increase taxes on small business owners. It is true that increasing taxes is thought by economists to tend to constrain economic activity. However by and large it is not the taxes on a relatively few business owners who, according to Romney for some reason would not engage in profitable activities because the government takes a larger share of their profits. Taxes are considered constraining because they take purchasing power out of the hands of consumers. Romney repeatedly claimed that taxes on profits resulted in less employment. He never explained why this would be so. Twice he cited a study by some association of businessmen. (Wow, what a surprise!Businessmen don't like taxes.) If a business man has an opportunity to make a profit by adding workers, wouldn't he have the incentive to do so whether his tax rate was 35% or 40%. Since with the latter rate the government is taking more of his income, maybe he has even more incentive to search hard for ways to increase his income through increased employment. I'm sorry that Obama or Lehre did not say what I have just written, but what the President did say was look at the record of the past 20 years when Democratic policies have worked better than Republican policies. Sorry, I can't recall the exact examples he gave, but his point seemed considerably more reliable to me.
Romney also said he would balance the budget by making unspecified cuts in programs and unspecified elimination of tax breaks. He said he would delete Obama care, except for the parts that he would keep. He said we need regulation of the economy, but without specifying which regulation is good and which is not.
If you look at the substance, not the style, I think the Prez did all right.
Here's a list of bad places to live in 2012. Syria, Afghanistan, Iraq, Ohio, Nevada, Colorado, Pennsylvania and the rest of the "battle ground states". The sobriquet is now a cliche, but what a great descriptor it is. In all these states somebody is destroying any joy that might be found in life by blasting away at their opponents with unending and I presume inescapable political ads. In these political battles it is not a matter of damage collateral to some other target. The very targets are the innocent residents. I'm so glad to be missing it. It is nearly enough to make me like the Electoral College voting system. Thanks founding fathers.
I watched the first debate last night. According to the pundits Romney did pretty well. If going in you thought he was a halt-of-speech dope you found out differently. He's obviously a smart guy, by now well versed in his message. If you thought because Obama can write and deliver an inspiring speech, that he is a great extemporaneous speaker you must not have been listening to his unscripted talks with reporters. He speaks slowly, thoughtfully and with pauses as he carefully chooses his words. His normal speech does not flow smoothly. I think if one were to read what was said by the debaters, instead of hear it, the impression of who offered the most compelling substance would be quite different. Romney's main point, which he repeated many times, was that he wants to reduce unemployment (and just who doesn't) and in order to do so he would not increase taxes on small business owners. It is true that increasing taxes is thought by economists to tend to constrain economic activity. However by and large it is not the taxes on a relatively few business owners who, according to Romney for some reason would not engage in profitable activities because the government takes a larger share of their profits. Taxes are considered constraining because they take purchasing power out of the hands of consumers. Romney repeatedly claimed that taxes on profits resulted in less employment. He never explained why this would be so. Twice he cited a study by some association of businessmen. (Wow, what a surprise!Businessmen don't like taxes.) If a business man has an opportunity to make a profit by adding workers, wouldn't he have the incentive to do so whether his tax rate was 35% or 40%. Since with the latter rate the government is taking more of his income, maybe he has even more incentive to search hard for ways to increase his income through increased employment. I'm sorry that Obama or Lehre did not say what I have just written, but what the President did say was look at the record of the past 20 years when Democratic policies have worked better than Republican policies. Sorry, I can't recall the exact examples he gave, but his point seemed considerably more reliable to me.
Romney also said he would balance the budget by making unspecified cuts in programs and unspecified elimination of tax breaks. He said he would delete Obama care, except for the parts that he would keep. He said we need regulation of the economy, but without specifying which regulation is good and which is not.
If you look at the substance, not the style, I think the Prez did all right.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Communication
Bicycling and conversation don't mix. Typically riders travel in a line so that the person in front can hear the words of the following person reasonably well, but the lead rider has trouble casting his or her voice back to the rear. Yesterday my wife and I went on a bicycle errand. We hadn't gone far when I noticed a really flourishing stand of corn in a neighbor's garden. Here's the conversation in its entirety.
"Did you see that great corn?"
"What?"
"Great corn."
"What?"
"CORN!"
"Did you see that great corn?"
"What?"
"Great corn."
"What?"
"CORN!"
Friday, August 10, 2012
The Breast Stroke
I wonder if anyone could tell me of any other human activity that is less significant than determining who in the world is the fastest practitioner of the breast stroke. Go ahead, think it over and then add a comment below.
I have misused quite a large amount of the past ten days watching stuff that lacks importance, but commands enormous resources, both human and physical. What amazing effort and investment goes into the Olympic Games. And what does it all mean? I must say, from a collective stand point, not much. Really, what does it matter? Of course it matters to the individuals involved. Fortunes are made. Fame is earned. Adulation is reaped. Power is exercised. And even though by its nature there are far more losers than winners, in the long run a whole lot of self esteem is generated. I guess that is where the virtue of the Olympic Games is to be found. They do make people feel good about themselves – even the breast stroke.
I nominate the breast stroke for the least significant human activity award because of all the events I have wasted time on, it is the least beautiful. Beautifully honed human bodies running, jumping, throwing, lifting great weights, vaulting through the air while twisting and summersaulting, standing perfectly still on one’s hands 3 stories above a pool of water, all of these have an aspect that pleases the eye. Alas, the breast stroke completely lacks this vindication. Swimming in general is mostly out of sight but what can be observed of the breast stroke is particularly ungainly and slow. For my money the best thing about the breast stroke is the name; the breast stroke. I guess it would be good to be able to say, “In my youth, son, I got the gold medal in the breast stroke.”
I have misused quite a large amount of the past ten days watching stuff that lacks importance, but commands enormous resources, both human and physical. What amazing effort and investment goes into the Olympic Games. And what does it all mean? I must say, from a collective stand point, not much. Really, what does it matter? Of course it matters to the individuals involved. Fortunes are made. Fame is earned. Adulation is reaped. Power is exercised. And even though by its nature there are far more losers than winners, in the long run a whole lot of self esteem is generated. I guess that is where the virtue of the Olympic Games is to be found. They do make people feel good about themselves – even the breast stroke.
I nominate the breast stroke for the least significant human activity award because of all the events I have wasted time on, it is the least beautiful. Beautifully honed human bodies running, jumping, throwing, lifting great weights, vaulting through the air while twisting and summersaulting, standing perfectly still on one’s hands 3 stories above a pool of water, all of these have an aspect that pleases the eye. Alas, the breast stroke completely lacks this vindication. Swimming in general is mostly out of sight but what can be observed of the breast stroke is particularly ungainly and slow. For my money the best thing about the breast stroke is the name; the breast stroke. I guess it would be good to be able to say, “In my youth, son, I got the gold medal in the breast stroke.”
Saturday, August 4, 2012
First Impressions - An Anecdote
I was pedaling along on a popular Seattle bike path when I heard a cry of anguish and frustration. I turned my head just in time to glimpse a young person seated or kneeling on the curb just off the path. There was a moment of indecision as I checked my instinct to go back and be helpful with the awareness that I could be getting into something I would later regret. A bad drug trip seemed perfectly plausible, but there by the trail I thought the trouble would most likely be some kind of bike problem. In a few seconds I hit the brakes and leaned into a looping turn that brought me back to the spot of a fellow human being in some kind of distress.
“What’s the trouble? Can I help?”
A young girl, fighting back tears replied, “I dropped my bone and it fell into this street drain. I’ve been trying and trying to get it out with this thing, but now it is broken and the drain cover won’t come up and I don’t know what to do.” She held up a grabbing device about two feet long.
So it wasn’t a bike problem, but it didn’t appear to be drugs. I climbed off my bike and pushed it to a safe place a few feet away. Maybe, I thought, it is some kind of middle school or high school fad in which kids carry a bone around with a grabbing tool. Maybe they can do tricks with them or something. I might mention at this point that I am not above a little odd behavior myself now and then. In fact one of the reasons for my current ride was to drop off in some wild place a young rat who had come to my rat restaurant the previous evening, where the patrons get something to eat and a new place to live – fairly far from my house. The restaurant is portable and at that moment was on a trailer on the end of my bike. The disposition had already been accomplished. The interested reader will find a fuller explanation of this practice posted on this blog on January 30, 2011.
Reaching for the broken tool I said, “Let me have a look at this.” I began to manipulate it and sure enough, though I squeezed the trigger as hard as I could the pinchers at the working end remained about two inches apart. So I tried a few more times, carefully scrutinizing the mechanism. I twisted the handle which rotated relative to the shaft, but nothing seemed to unscrew. Then randomly I pulled the handle away from the shaft and lo and behold the pinchers closed. I tried it a couple of more times before showing, a bit proudly I must say, what I had discovered. I said, “May I try it?”
“Sure. See it down there? It is covered with eyes.”
I could see it about fifteen inches below the grate, within easy reach of the tool. I reached through a gap and began to work the eye covered bone around on the floor of the drain. I pushed it over to one side and managed to get it up onto one end, leaning against the wall of the cavity. Then I got the pinchers in position and pulled the handle back from the shaft. The pinchers closed and in a second the bone came up to the grate. About half way through this exercise my theory of the situation changed. Once it was up near the top of the drain the young lady reached in, grabbed firmly and pulled it out.
It’s hard to say which of us was happier, me, proud of my work, or her, restored to her phone. We hugged and she offered to buy me a drink. I gave her a few strands of Mardi Gras beads I had found on the road about half an hour earlier. She gave me a Day of the Dead key ring she had brought from home in Baltimore, for reasons she knew not. We hugged again and went our separate ways.
“What’s the trouble? Can I help?”
A young girl, fighting back tears replied, “I dropped my bone and it fell into this street drain. I’ve been trying and trying to get it out with this thing, but now it is broken and the drain cover won’t come up and I don’t know what to do.” She held up a grabbing device about two feet long.
So it wasn’t a bike problem, but it didn’t appear to be drugs. I climbed off my bike and pushed it to a safe place a few feet away. Maybe, I thought, it is some kind of middle school or high school fad in which kids carry a bone around with a grabbing tool. Maybe they can do tricks with them or something. I might mention at this point that I am not above a little odd behavior myself now and then. In fact one of the reasons for my current ride was to drop off in some wild place a young rat who had come to my rat restaurant the previous evening, where the patrons get something to eat and a new place to live – fairly far from my house. The restaurant is portable and at that moment was on a trailer on the end of my bike. The disposition had already been accomplished. The interested reader will find a fuller explanation of this practice posted on this blog on January 30, 2011.
Reaching for the broken tool I said, “Let me have a look at this.” I began to manipulate it and sure enough, though I squeezed the trigger as hard as I could the pinchers at the working end remained about two inches apart. So I tried a few more times, carefully scrutinizing the mechanism. I twisted the handle which rotated relative to the shaft, but nothing seemed to unscrew. Then randomly I pulled the handle away from the shaft and lo and behold the pinchers closed. I tried it a couple of more times before showing, a bit proudly I must say, what I had discovered. I said, “May I try it?”
“Sure. See it down there? It is covered with eyes.”
I could see it about fifteen inches below the grate, within easy reach of the tool. I reached through a gap and began to work the eye covered bone around on the floor of the drain. I pushed it over to one side and managed to get it up onto one end, leaning against the wall of the cavity. Then I got the pinchers in position and pulled the handle back from the shaft. The pinchers closed and in a second the bone came up to the grate. About half way through this exercise my theory of the situation changed. Once it was up near the top of the drain the young lady reached in, grabbed firmly and pulled it out.
It’s hard to say which of us was happier, me, proud of my work, or her, restored to her phone. We hugged and she offered to buy me a drink. I gave her a few strands of Mardi Gras beads I had found on the road about half an hour earlier. She gave me a Day of the Dead key ring she had brought from home in Baltimore, for reasons she knew not. We hugged again and went our separate ways.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
The Year You Were Never Bored
I'd like to suggest, dear reader, that there was a period in your life, of at least six months and maybe even a year when you were never bored. You may have been frustrated because you couldn't get the people around you to understand that you were hungry, or tired, or not tired, or that you were carrying a very unpleasant load in your britches, but you were not bored. Every thing around you was incredibly interesting: hair, a button on your clothes, the invisible force field between the warm inside of the house and the cold outside that you could touch but could not see, the thing the big people gave you to play in your food with, the thing they put the food into, the grass and all the other stuff to be found on the floor and ground. It was your year of being a scientist. Your first birthday was in there sometime. It was all so very interesting. And every once in a while you found something unforgettable - like ice cream. Whatever bad thing might have happened from time to time, you were never bored.
An Amazing Gift
My son-in-law has just returned from six months in Afghanistan working for the US Defense Department. He didn’t like it. Although he was not involved in any combat situation, the living conditions were minimal, he worked long hours, he worked every day and he was away from his family, friends and the comforts of life in this country. As a civilian he did not have to accept the assignment. He had the legal right to simply quit his job and stay home. Given that the unemployment rate is quite high these days and finding a good job is not easy I suppose that there were real economic incentives to deploy, but I believe that he accepted the task in good measure out of a sense of duty. When he accepted the job with the Defense Department several years ago the contract stipulated the possibility of being sent to Afghanistan. To have walked away when his number came up would have been shirking his duty to the government and his sense of obligation to provide for his family. He has not said as much to me, but I believe this to be the fact. While he was gone our daughter brought her 1 and 3 year old children here to live with my wife and me.
I have a dream that recurs about every six months. It’s not a nightmare. In fact I call it my sweet dream. In it I am again a young father – about 30 years old. My children are little tykes and we are reveling in the pleasures of life at a time when all is promise and potential. In my dream the children do not fight or misbehave. In my waking memory I know that was not always the case, but so it is in my dream.
Our son was born to us when we were 31 and 29 and our daughter came along a couple of years later. In the sixties that was sort of late to be starting a family. One of the side effects of starting a family is that you tend to meet a lot of new people who themselves are parents of young kids. You make friends and start hanging out with these folks. I remember thinking at the time that one’s children do a lot to define one’s age. Though I was in my 30’s, I felt much like a 20 something.
I think a lot about age these days. When people recount to me some incident that they witnessed or heard about on the news I usually ask how old were the people involved? I am keenly aware that most of my life is behind me. I often cogitate on how long I may live, what public works projects, what scientific advances, what political developments will I see. Who of my friends and family will I see pass? In our culture of youth fetish and devotion I am a confirmed and shameless acolyte. And here at the age of 74, my son-in-law has given me six months of living like a 30 year old. I have been living my dream.
Bless you my boy.
I have a dream that recurs about every six months. It’s not a nightmare. In fact I call it my sweet dream. In it I am again a young father – about 30 years old. My children are little tykes and we are reveling in the pleasures of life at a time when all is promise and potential. In my dream the children do not fight or misbehave. In my waking memory I know that was not always the case, but so it is in my dream.
Our son was born to us when we were 31 and 29 and our daughter came along a couple of years later. In the sixties that was sort of late to be starting a family. One of the side effects of starting a family is that you tend to meet a lot of new people who themselves are parents of young kids. You make friends and start hanging out with these folks. I remember thinking at the time that one’s children do a lot to define one’s age. Though I was in my 30’s, I felt much like a 20 something.
I think a lot about age these days. When people recount to me some incident that they witnessed or heard about on the news I usually ask how old were the people involved? I am keenly aware that most of my life is behind me. I often cogitate on how long I may live, what public works projects, what scientific advances, what political developments will I see. Who of my friends and family will I see pass? In our culture of youth fetish and devotion I am a confirmed and shameless acolyte. And here at the age of 74, my son-in-law has given me six months of living like a 30 year old. I have been living my dream.
Bless you my boy.
Monday, July 2, 2012
July 1, 2012
There was rain this morning. The clouds hung in an undifferentiated grey blanket not far above my head. The drops were small, just more than a mist. They dampened the grass, the trees, my dog, me and even what little sound there was in the park, early on a Sunday morning. It was what people around Seattle refer to as, a perfect day.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Mildred and Milton
Mildred and Milton Mallard appeared in our yard one afternoon several weeks ago to our delight and that of our 3year old grandson who is staying with us. There’s a pond, but it must be hard to see from above, hemmed in as it is by the house and a bunch of large cedars and maples. I don’t recall any visits by wild ducks in the 40 years we’ve been here. It was around 4:00 PM and we called off whatever it was we were doing outside to leave them undisturbed. Later it became clear that such respect was entirely unnecessary. Walking within a few feet did not trouble them in the least. They stayed into the evening and over that first night, alternating between feeding and floating on the pond and preening and resting on the ground nearby. After a couple of days they flew off taking in their bellies the 20 small gold fish I had put in the pond just a few days before. But they came back. And then they came and went nearly every day as it pleased them. We put some straw near the water’s edge and they slept on it, but never really formed a nest. We never saw any conjugal relations unlike various domestic ducks who have lived with us from time to time. The domestics made a habit of going at it night and day. Millie and Milt got on fine with the chickens who free range in the same space, sometimes even going into the chickens’ pen, but they had a bit more feisty relationship with the pair of crows that seem to be nesting somewhere nearby. For a while they came for the night and were off to work before we were up in the morning. Then their schedule got very random. They’d drop out of the sky like rocks and could take off with an equally sharp flight path. I was very surprised to see it. Then one afternoon, after several weeks, Millie appeared alone. We can only speculate on what happened to Milt. Did he get hurt? Did Millie send him off. Did he find another girl friend and dump her? She certainly seemed forlorn there alone on the water. And now Millie has stopped coming too. I think it was just too painful to go alone to their old familiar places.
As the old song says,
I’ll be seeing you in all the old familiar places,
That this heart of mine embraces all day through
…
In everything that’s bright and gay,
I’ll always think of you that way.
I’ll see you in the morning sun,
And when the night is new,
I’ll be looking at the moon,
But I’ll be seeing you.
As the old song says,
I’ll be seeing you in all the old familiar places,
That this heart of mine embraces all day through
…
In everything that’s bright and gay,
I’ll always think of you that way.
I’ll see you in the morning sun,
And when the night is new,
I’ll be looking at the moon,
But I’ll be seeing you.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Addendum To The Previous
From her birth I endeavored to teach my daughter about what we called either Jr High humor or 13 year old boy humor. This was in order to prepare her, not only for Jr High, Sr High and college, but also for courtship and married life. And I do believe it has paid off. However judging by her reaction to the previous post it seems no one has prepared her for 70 year old humor. Any other reader who did not find it side-splittingly hilarious must be similarly deprived.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Staying Current
I composed my first tweet this morning. Since I have no twitter account I thought I would just post it here. I was preparing my breakfast when it came to me. Here it is.
Out of Raison Bran. Bowels slamming shut.
Out of Raison Bran. Bowels slamming shut.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Braggarts
A few days ago I spent about 15 minutes in conversation with a fellow I see very intermittently. When it was over I had an idea of his philanthropic practices (considerable), his filial responsibility and kindness (impressive), and his investing success (really good). A week or so before that I spent even less time with another guy and learned the percentage of world sales of his firm that he is responsible for, how many people’s jobs depend on him setting up big deals, and I think something about his wine cellar. Here’s what I’d like. I’d like to get these two guys to have lunch together and witness the result. The conversation that I imagine titillates my grey matter. Who would dominate? Which one would go the furthest? Would either one listen? Would their claims escalate? Would they enjoy their time together? What would each think of the other when the conversation ended? Alas I see no way for them to ever cross paths, but how I’d like to be there if it happened.
Probably I should add that I am no paragon of modesty. For all I know I may be exactly like these two. Nobody has ever intimated as much to me, but then neither did I say anything to them. I do publish a completely ego centric and self indulgent blog. Come to think of it my wife may have been trying to convey something yesterday.
Probably I should add that I am no paragon of modesty. For all I know I may be exactly like these two. Nobody has ever intimated as much to me, but then neither did I say anything to them. I do publish a completely ego centric and self indulgent blog. Come to think of it my wife may have been trying to convey something yesterday.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
These Days In My Hood
Author’s note: Sometime in the late 70’s or 80’s the phenomenon of gentrification began to sweep across our land rejuvenating tired and faded metropolitan neighborhoods. For reasons I will not go into, in my city this process began on my block, creating a net worth for my wife and me that we never expected and didn’t particularly deserve.
******************************************************
Pasted below are the 1st, 14th and 15th of a series of emails posted on our neighborhood forum over a period of 7 days. The omitted messages trace a progression from the first alert toward a possible identification. You’ll see.
#1: I just wanted to alert people that we had an strange person come to our door last night while we were eating dinner. He knocked loudly and repeatedly until my husband answered. The guy was disheveled and yet wore a tie, he was a little overly eager and loud and was asking how to get to Montlake. We told him he was in Montlake, at which point he said he needed to get to "the store."
We weren't suspicious at the time, but thought more about it and decided he was probably trying to figure out what the interior of our house looked like and what might be valuable, etc. Anyway, given that break-ins have been a problem lately, I thought I'd alert others.
# 14: Hi - we lived in Montlake for four years, the same person tried the "locksmith" bit two separate times. He lives in an apartment above Fuel or works for the building, I am not sure which. I often saw him cleaning the sidewalk and taking out the trash. Good luck.
# 15: If you are going come this close to accusing a specific person of misbehavior, I think it more appropriate you take your information to the police and get the matter settled immediately. You shouldn’t make accusations unless you are both quite certain about them and willing to follow through on them. In this case you have simply pointed to the wrong person. I happen to be a friend of the person you are describing and you are totally wrong about him.
The following day there were 6 messages posted under the subject, “New suspicious solicitor”. Here’s the first.
We just had a visit at dusk by a suspicious solicitor. It was a young African American man with a close shaved head. He is tall and thin and carrying a clipboard. He was
wearing a light colored shirt and dark pants as well as a tie. He had blue
baseball cap attached to his belt. He said he was from "urban development,"
which we never heard of so we sent him away. We saw him bend down to try to see
through our opaque glass entry.
Be alert.
These six were followed by six more under the subject, People With Clipboards Roaming The Neighborhood. Here’s the first of these.
Batten down the hatches. On E McGraw St just saw at least two people with clipboards roaming around.
Finally I felt called upon to offer my own post, to wit:
A few weeks ago as I rode my bike up our street toward home my thoughts happened to fall upon the cars that lined the street at the curb and in the driveways. I thought how the current set of cars might compare with those that rested in the same spots in 1969 when we moved here. I wondered what would be revealed about changes in our street by such a comparison. With that in mind, on a Sunday a week or so later I picked up a clipboard and proceeded down the block making an inventory of the vehicles to be found. In some cases, if a machine was a bit outside my common familiarity, I stopped to scrutinize what I found. I would like now to apologize for any alarm I may have raised in the breasts of any of my good neighbors by this behavior. I suppose it was even more likely in as much I was wearing a faux leather jacket I got at the Goodwill, some tattered Carharts, and Keenes, without the benefit of socks. Sorry.
As for the results, I found 1 Maserati, 1 Ferrari, 1 Jaguar, 2 Porsches, 4 Beemers, 1 Audi, 3 Mercedes, 1 Cadillac (a classic), 8 VWs, 4 volvos, 1 Harley, 1 Vespa and a bunch of other stuff too mundane to mention. All I can report from 1969 is the '63 Chevy II that we owned and my own Vespa which is now long gone. A couple of years later we picked up an International Harvester delivery van. The Chevy has been replaced by a Honda Civic. We still have the International, but it is now a chicken coop.
Apologetically,
Paul Gibson
******************************************************
Pasted below are the 1st, 14th and 15th of a series of emails posted on our neighborhood forum over a period of 7 days. The omitted messages trace a progression from the first alert toward a possible identification. You’ll see.
#1: I just wanted to alert people that we had an strange person come to our door last night while we were eating dinner. He knocked loudly and repeatedly until my husband answered. The guy was disheveled and yet wore a tie, he was a little overly eager and loud and was asking how to get to Montlake. We told him he was in Montlake, at which point he said he needed to get to "the store."
We weren't suspicious at the time, but thought more about it and decided he was probably trying to figure out what the interior of our house looked like and what might be valuable, etc. Anyway, given that break-ins have been a problem lately, I thought I'd alert others.
# 14: Hi - we lived in Montlake for four years, the same person tried the "locksmith" bit two separate times. He lives in an apartment above Fuel or works for the building, I am not sure which. I often saw him cleaning the sidewalk and taking out the trash. Good luck.
# 15: If you are going come this close to accusing a specific person of misbehavior, I think it more appropriate you take your information to the police and get the matter settled immediately. You shouldn’t make accusations unless you are both quite certain about them and willing to follow through on them. In this case you have simply pointed to the wrong person. I happen to be a friend of the person you are describing and you are totally wrong about him.
The following day there were 6 messages posted under the subject, “New suspicious solicitor”. Here’s the first.
We just had a visit at dusk by a suspicious solicitor. It was a young African American man with a close shaved head. He is tall and thin and carrying a clipboard. He was
wearing a light colored shirt and dark pants as well as a tie. He had blue
baseball cap attached to his belt. He said he was from "urban development,"
which we never heard of so we sent him away. We saw him bend down to try to see
through our opaque glass entry.
Be alert.
These six were followed by six more under the subject, People With Clipboards Roaming The Neighborhood. Here’s the first of these.
Batten down the hatches. On E McGraw St just saw at least two people with clipboards roaming around.
Finally I felt called upon to offer my own post, to wit:
A few weeks ago as I rode my bike up our street toward home my thoughts happened to fall upon the cars that lined the street at the curb and in the driveways. I thought how the current set of cars might compare with those that rested in the same spots in 1969 when we moved here. I wondered what would be revealed about changes in our street by such a comparison. With that in mind, on a Sunday a week or so later I picked up a clipboard and proceeded down the block making an inventory of the vehicles to be found. In some cases, if a machine was a bit outside my common familiarity, I stopped to scrutinize what I found. I would like now to apologize for any alarm I may have raised in the breasts of any of my good neighbors by this behavior. I suppose it was even more likely in as much I was wearing a faux leather jacket I got at the Goodwill, some tattered Carharts, and Keenes, without the benefit of socks. Sorry.
As for the results, I found 1 Maserati, 1 Ferrari, 1 Jaguar, 2 Porsches, 4 Beemers, 1 Audi, 3 Mercedes, 1 Cadillac (a classic), 8 VWs, 4 volvos, 1 Harley, 1 Vespa and a bunch of other stuff too mundane to mention. All I can report from 1969 is the '63 Chevy II that we owned and my own Vespa which is now long gone. A couple of years later we picked up an International Harvester delivery van. The Chevy has been replaced by a Honda Civic. We still have the International, but it is now a chicken coop.
Apologetically,
Paul Gibson
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Good Smells, Bad Smells
I happen to be married to an incredible olfactory system. Not like that of my dog, of course, who can't go 20 feet up the sidewalk without stopping to check her messages (not my line unfortunately), but for a human really quite remarkable. I, on the other hand, have a substandard system. If you were to add us together and divide by 2 you would get about the standard for our species. It turns out this disparity of talent is quite useful. There's a lot of bad smelling stuff in the world and a lot of it needs to be cleaned up, moved around or otherwise handled. Those, naturally, are my jobs. This is not a complaint. The sense of smell might be a place where given a choice between supper good and rather poor a person would be wise to go for being less gifted. It may well be that the world offers us more and stronger bad smells than good. In my wife's case even the supposedly good ones, e.g. perfume, are often punishingly bad.
Just musing.
Just musing.
Friday, January 20, 2012
You can stop watching the news
Newt Gingrich is going to be the next President of the United States.
With his nominees the Supreme Court will overturn Roe v. Wade and the conservative majority will last for decades.
Mother Earth is screwed. Well, she would be if she cared, which, being a planet, she doesn't. But anybody living on a low lying island is.
My record at predicting the future stinks.
With his nominees the Supreme Court will overturn Roe v. Wade and the conservative majority will last for decades.
Mother Earth is screwed. Well, she would be if she cared, which, being a planet, she doesn't. But anybody living on a low lying island is.
My record at predicting the future stinks.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Leaf Painting
Still not fine art, but getting better. For an introductioin to leaf painting check the post for January 11, 2009, titled First Conversations.
Do you get the little tiny joke?
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Sleep
I fell asleep a few weeks ago while driving on the freeway. It wasn’t for long as almost immediately I was running over those buttons that separate the lanes and that brought me back to consciousness. Soon after that my wife took the wheel. Although this is the only time I have actually dosed off, I have been plagued by drowsiness while driving for several years now. It may be related to my practice in my non driving life of dropping down for a nap at the very slightest sign of fatigue. I’m not practiced at staying awake. As I write this it is 2:10 AM, an hour at which I am routinely lying awake in my bed. As I don’t struggle to stay awake in the day, except while driving, I don’t struggle to stay asleep in the small hours of the night. I generally accept the inclination of the moment. I do think about it though.
It is notable that we can’t directly experience sleep. Being awake means being aware of yourself in the moment and being asleep is the opposite. The instant you fall asleep you lose your awareness. The way we experience sleep is deductive. You are lying in bed expecting to sleep and the next thing you know it is sometime later and you are awake in your bed recalling that you had been in bed expecting to sleep. You deduce that you must have slept though you didn’t consciously experience it. The closest we come to experiencing sleep directly is when we dream. When we awake after a dream we can be pretty sure we have been asleep because that is when dreams occur. We are aware as well of going into sleep and coming out. But by its nature sleep itself eludes our conscious experience.
We have the experience of the sleepless night, tossing and turning with a hyper awareness of being awake. In the morning we might say, “I didn’t sleep a wink.” For some time now I have questioned the accuracy of such perceptions. What I suspect happens is that we sleep much more than we realize, but since we have no direct experience of sleep, if we miss the sense of waking up we don’t know that we have slept. It seems as if we are passing sleepless hours, but it may not be so. In fact last night I had my first confirmation of my theory. It was one of those nights when I seemed to be continuously awake after about 2:00. I was very aware of the comfort of my warm blankets and of my repetitive turning over. At a certain moment I was thinking about how much time had passed without sleep when I realized that I had just had a dream, in fact quite a clear and memorable three part adventure. Thus I had to have been asleep, even though I thought I had been continuously awake.
It’s now 3:28. I guess I will join any would be readers, in sleep.
It is notable that we can’t directly experience sleep. Being awake means being aware of yourself in the moment and being asleep is the opposite. The instant you fall asleep you lose your awareness. The way we experience sleep is deductive. You are lying in bed expecting to sleep and the next thing you know it is sometime later and you are awake in your bed recalling that you had been in bed expecting to sleep. You deduce that you must have slept though you didn’t consciously experience it. The closest we come to experiencing sleep directly is when we dream. When we awake after a dream we can be pretty sure we have been asleep because that is when dreams occur. We are aware as well of going into sleep and coming out. But by its nature sleep itself eludes our conscious experience.
We have the experience of the sleepless night, tossing and turning with a hyper awareness of being awake. In the morning we might say, “I didn’t sleep a wink.” For some time now I have questioned the accuracy of such perceptions. What I suspect happens is that we sleep much more than we realize, but since we have no direct experience of sleep, if we miss the sense of waking up we don’t know that we have slept. It seems as if we are passing sleepless hours, but it may not be so. In fact last night I had my first confirmation of my theory. It was one of those nights when I seemed to be continuously awake after about 2:00. I was very aware of the comfort of my warm blankets and of my repetitive turning over. At a certain moment I was thinking about how much time had passed without sleep when I realized that I had just had a dream, in fact quite a clear and memorable three part adventure. Thus I had to have been asleep, even though I thought I had been continuously awake.
It’s now 3:28. I guess I will join any would be readers, in sleep.
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