The Jorge Experience

Super Heros

2010-05-17T06:17:00.002-04:00

This occured to me in the shower this morning.

If I were a superhero, my super power would be invisibility.

My weakness would be Cheerleader locker rooms.

Just saying.

The Expected Unexpected

2010-04-19T15:10:00.005-04:00

So my Dad, Luis El Grande, passed away at his winter hideout in Florida on April 8th.

His health was poor, and I (a nurse) and my sister-in-law (a physician) both knew he wasn't well and didn't have very long. Both of us predicted around Thanksgiving that he might not come back to Michigan this spring.

He was only 3 weeks from coming home when he proved us right.

From what I understand, he and his girlfriend were out having fun all day. He came home, made and ate dinner, then dozed off in his lazy boy. When his girlfriend tried to wake him up about two hours later, he was gone. All in all, dying peacefully in your sleep isn't a bad way to go.

Dying from Type II diabetes, congestive heart failure and morbid obesity, however, seems pretty dumb. But he'd been wanting to die since Mom passed back in 2002 and chose slow suicide. He was fully aware that controlling his weight would have meant many more years of life, but there you go.

We buried him last Wednesday next to my Mom. The burial was a debacle, but I'll tell that story another time. Basically it was a customer service foul-up by the cemetery and funeral home. But it got done.

So now I'm the executor of the trust, and Mona is helping out. My brother Juan is in the loop and we'll be talking to Dads lawyer this week. I've managed to get some stuff done, but to really take care of most things we need to wait on the death certificate from Florida.

We also went to his house up north and took some heirlooms out before his girlfriend and her family got in there. We got the will and some jewelry out of the safe, the guns out of the attic, tools out of the basement and took them home.

We're planning an Estate Sale to clean the place out over Memorial Day weekend.

The best thing to come out of this deal is that The Peanuts college (along with a siblings, should one ever come along) is pretty much covered.

The odd thing is that I am not nearly as broken up as I was when Mom died. Me and Luis had some serious disagreements and he was a right bastard on more than a few occasions. I had a great deal of anger towards him for most of my life.

Now that he's gone, I am not so angry. But I'm not grieving much beyond a few tears at the funeral either. It's a very different and so far much less painful experience that when Mom died. It feels more like a milestone than a loss. Kind of like my 40th birthday. It was going to happen sooner or later. Might not be fun, but there's worse things.

Actually, the worst part was explaining it to The Peanut. We were very honest with her and tried to keep it simple. We told her Gramps had died and had gone to heaven. We took her to the funeral so she could say goodbye and we were careful to explain that while he looked like he was asleep, his body was old and sick and he wasn't there anymore (we don't want her to fear sleep).

She took it pretty much the way "the books" said she would; lots of questions with long breaks between series, essentially revisiting the same questions over and over. She expressed sadness a few times and seems to have dealt with it pretty well. But every now and then running through it with her would get me going. She asked us a lot while we were driving and Mona would have to do the talking while I welled up, unable to speak. I feel bad that she won't know her Grandparents on my side, but I didn't know 3 of the 4 of mine and I turned out OK. She already calls my Godparents Grams and Gramps, and they treat her like a grandchild, so all in all she'll never really experience the loss.

Mona's parents are both in their 50's, but he dad is not the healthiest guy (recently lost an eye to cancer and has other issues; I give him 10 years, tops) and her mom had a mastectomy (she's cancer free now) last summer. But I figure they'll last a while, and The Peanut will have lots of chances to go and stay at Grams House of Perpetual Indulgence.

So there you go. It's been a hell of a month.

Back So Soon?

2010-04-06T14:16:00.002-04:00

Yes I am. Because I need your help and advice.

First, as is my custom, some background.

My brother Juan married into Money. I mean real money. His father-in-law is a world-recognized leader in his field and has literally written the text book on what he does. He's a self made man and has earned all the wealth and acclaim that he currently enjoys.

My sister-in-law, Juanite, is following in his footsteps and has a bright, debt-free future.

Her parents are divorced, and her mom is in a position of authority. She also has a huge alimony income in addition to her own family money.

Juan and I are from a blue collar family. My parents worked hard and they were able to put us through college for our first degrees. You know I just put myself through school again (with Mona's invaluable help) and Juan earned his MBA on his own. We also bought our own houses, cars, and other material possessions by earning the money we made.

My sister-in-law has two siblings. We'll call them Heckle and Jeckle. Both are attorneys. Heckle has a small practice and has gone to his Mom for cash to prop up the business recently (She sold a very expensive house in a resort type community on the east coast to cover him). Heckles wife is in sales and recently talked Heckle's dad into paying for her breast implants. Heckle is a bit of a jerk, but he's generally harmless.

Jeckle is married to an attorney. He practiced for about a year then married and decided to stay home to raise his son while his wife works. His some has some developmental issues, but I'm not sure if they're organic or have been created by Jeckle's numerous neuroses. His daughter has a significant development disorder and requires constant supervision. I have no issues with his decision to stay home with her. As far as his overall character however, Jeckle is in my opinion a huge pussy.

Both sons received a gift (according to my brother) $75K each from their father for the purchase of their homes. According to Juan, both boys have their hands out to Mom and Dad on a regular basis.

Juan and Juanita are currently house hunting. They want to move out of the blue collar neighborhood where we live (just a couple miles apart) to one that is more white collar / professional. They have the income and the ability, and I think they should live wherever they like. They've had some difficulty finding homes they like, had one deal fall through and are in the midst of negotiating for something they like.

The home they're bidding on now is on the opposite side of town (about 40 miles) from Juanita's family. Her family doesn't really like to leave their old money enclave, but Juan and Juanita feel that they have good reasons for searching in the area they've chosen. The area is about 20 miles from me, and fairly convenient. Mona and I talked about living in that area (in a much smaller, less expensive neighborhood) for some time, and like it a great deal.

All the time they've been shopping I've joked with them (especially when in school and unemployed) that I hope they find a house with a room in the basement where I can live when I lose our house (we were never in danger of losing our house). Juan and I both think the idea of me being the sponging, unemployed brother-in-law who lives in the basement is chuckle worthy.

I have approached the idea in a serious manner when talking about Mona and I moving. Because of the current credit climate I'm hearing that it's hard to buy a house when you still own a house. If that's true, then when it comes time for us to move it might be best for us to sell and stay in J&J's basement for a short time while we get a mortgage and find a new place. I figure that would take 2 to 3 months, and with 3000+ square feet (not counting the finished basement) we'd be pretty out of the way. We'd pay them some rent, of course, and Mona would do some child care for them while we were there too. But really the talks were all very hypothetical and no one requested or offered any sort of commitment. It was a big game of “What if..?”.

Which brings us up to the present.

We went to the Patriarch's place not long ago for an Easter visit. Mona and I were invited because it was also a birthday party for Juan's son, Luis.

The house hunt came up in conversation (most of the family was in the room discussing it) and a comment was made either by me or Juan that had something to do with me living in the basement. It was of course made in jest.

The next week, J&J found a house and are negotiating for it. The price was a little higher than planned, and Juanita called her mom to ask about a loan of some cash to cover some move-in expenses. Mom told her that she was uncomfortable with that, because she heard that I was planning to move my family in with them. Apparently Jeckle heard Juan and I joking and ran to mommy to tell her that I was looking for a handout. Juanita later heard the same thing from her father, who mentioned that Heckle was pretty upset.

Now, Heckle has annoyed me in the past with little shots, like pointing out at the Easter gathering that I'm overweight. He's right. But he's fat too (fatter than me, according to Mona). I blew it off. Jeckle's personality or social anxiety keeps him from doing much more than saying hello and goodbye to me while staring at his shoes. We've never had a conversation. Neither of these guys know a thing about me.

But now, Jeckle is out there impugning my character and suggesting that I'm some kind of gold digging bum. And apparently Dad and Mom are buying it. Juanita was not supposed to tell Juan any of this, but I think most wives would share this kind of thing with a spouse. Juan and I are tight enough that he calls me to vent when he's pissed. And of course I told Mona.

This how thing makes me angry. Juan is pretty fired up and Mona has decided she'd rather not see any of them again if at all possible. We certainly won't attend any more family functions on their home turf.

Now, if this were the Romantic age, I could ask Jeckle for satisfaction. I would not be expected to tolerate a slight to my honor. If Jeckle were more of a man and less surrounded by lawyers, I could just whip his ass (I'm not a tough guy at all, but Jeckle makes me look like Chuck Liddell). Both options are closed to me.

Mona says I just need to ignore it and stay away from them. It's too far removed from me to have any need to act. Juan may have to have some words with Jeckle, but really it ought to come from Juanita. My best friend Jaime agrees with Mona.

Juan is 75% of the way to whipping Jeckles ass.

I know that really, Mona and Jamie are right, but the blood of my ancestors and the teaching of my parents inclines me to partner up with Juan and teach Jeckle what happens when he decides that slander seems like a good idea.

What I'm looking for is a third option ideally. I'm leaning toward calling Jeckle a girls name whenever I see him from now on, along with finding other ways to torture him. I like the idea of causing him some social discomfort, engaging him in conversation (while obliquely letting him know that I know it makes him uncomfortable), finding ways to draw attention to him and occasionally causing him some physical pain (extra firm handshakes, “friendly” arm punches, etc). I would never, however, use his children to get to him. They and his wife, are and will remain, completely off limits.

So what I need is your advice. What, if anything, do I do? How shall I handle this?

Does Absence Make the Heart Grow Fonder?

2010-04-05T13:20:00.001-04:00

If it does, then you must be pretty fond of me by now.

Alright, I admit it's been a long while. A very long while, in fact. But I have no good explanation.

For a while I just haven't had much to say, or the energy to say it. I've also gotten fairly sucked into Facebook. Love me some Facebook. As a result my ramblings here have suffered to the point that you may no longer be reading this at all.

I suppose the first thing I need to do is provide an update on where I am.

I graduated from nursing school with my BSN (3.78 GPA, in case you were wondering) in December, and started looking for jobs. You may have read my rant about not being able to find work. I took a week off in January and we went to Disney with The Peanut. I had a line on a job at that time, but it fell through when the hospital system decided to close a small hospital to inpatient service and displaced a bunch of nurses, which meant outside candidates were not being interviewed. I found this out while in Florida and a couple of days before we got home I stopped shaving.

It got so bad that I started a playoff beard like those seen often in the NHL in spring. I vowed not to shave until I either passed my board exam or got an interview, whichever happened first. I chronicled it's growth with weekly pictures posted to, again, Facebook.

While the beard grew I started really looking for jobs and practically making a stalker of myself. I was calling nurse recruiters regularly and working my network for all it was worth. I'd find job postings, apply online as most of the hospitals required and then make calls to find the hiring manager for those positions. With a name or email address I would send an additional resume and cover letter and/or leave a voicemail for them. Mine was a known name.

While this went on I was waiting for the paperwork to go through the State system so I could take my board exam an get my license, which is the last hurdle to overcome to be able to practice as a Registered Nurse.

In early February I got the approval to take the NCLEX exam (nursing boards) and made the appointment for the following week, which was the soonest available. Most of my friends held off for weeks or even months, but I didn't want to wait. On day 24 of the playoff beard I sat for the exam.

It's a computer test that can take anywhere from 75 to 265 questions to decide whether or not you learned enough in school to be a safe Nurse. There's some kind of formula based on your performance on the test and the difficulty of the questions that lets the computer make a 95% accurate prediction of your ability to function in Nursing. 60 of the 75 questions (if you do the minimum) are test questions and the other 15 are experimental and are just there to be evaluated. You don't know which is which.

The test is administered by a private company and they report the results to the state which decides then about whether or not to license you (based on the test, background checks etc). They have elaborate security procedures to make sure that you are who you say you are and that you don't cheat. I think it's probably easier to get on a nuclear submarine than it is to get into the testing room.

Well, I took the thing and the computer shut off at 75 questions. I felt like I was guessing most of the time, but have enough faith in myself to believe that there was no way I'd fail with the minimum, so I walked out 98% sure that I'd passed. There's a way to sort of check immediately to see of you passed and I did that when I got home. It worked, and I felt good about the whole thing.

My wife was at the house when I got back, letting our sick dog out of the house. There was a job fair going on that I wanted to go to but wasn't sure about timing. I still had time, so I shaved the beard while she ironed a shirt for me.

I went to the event, got there at the end and managed to meet a couple of people, including one recruiter with whom I had been corresponding. It was OK, but kind of quick since I arrived towards the end. I also had time to pick up my Diploma while I was there and catch up with a couple of my friends. When I got home I emailed thank you notes.

The next day I went to another job fair and talked with more recruiters and said hi to the ones I'd seen the day before. I saw a couple more friends, took some notes and headed home.

On the drive home I got a call from a large hospital system asking if I'd like to interview later that week. Heck yes! Bonus, it was on an intensive care unit, which is very challenging but hard to get into as a new grad. I really wanted that job.

I went to the interview and noticed that I was competing with a guy who had a 4.0 in my program and was a classmate. I wasn't sure I could beat him, even though I had much more professional experience (he's 23). The next week I had an interview with a hospital where I had been pestering people. It was on a regular floor and sounded like I would be busting my butt. I was more worried about my ability to do that job than work in an ICU.

Turns out I got the ICU job! Interestingly enough, so did my classmate. A second spot opened and he was offered it ( know I got the spot first because he was offered and accepted a floor job, and then got the call offered the second spot when it opened up). We are in training together, which is actually pretty cool. Nice to have a classmate around.

I'm “working” in Neuroscience ICU. I used the quotes because really I am in training classes three days a week and only working with patients two days a week. The classroom stuff is supposed to be advanced training, ICU nurses are supposed to be able to keep extremely ill people alive and recognize quickly and react when someone tries to die.

Floor nurses need to know a lot of stuff too, and their work is demanding as all get out, but in a different way. Floor nurses bust ass, and anyone who says otherwise is either uninformed or just plain ornery. Either way, they're wrong.

A couple of days later I got the official confirmation that I passed my boards. Everything just sort of fell into place.

I feel kind of like I won the lottery. I have no idea how I got this lucky, but here I am and I'm grateful.

There's more to report, but I'm about typed out at the moment.

I hope you're doing well too.

Nursing shortage my ass!

2010-01-27T13:25:00.002-05:00

OK, I am starting to get seriously pissed.

As you all know, last year at this time I started a one year accelerated nursing program. I graduated with my Bachelors last December. I am still waiting for the state to get everything together so that I can sit for my boards. In the meantime I am looking for a job.

And right now it appears that there ain’t none. Between all the nurses who are going back to work now that their auto working spouses are unemployed, the nurses who have put off retirement and the hospitals that are closing units and facilities I (and most of my classmates) am getting screwed.

I understand this is the worst economy we’ve seen in something like four generations, but COME ON! I haven’t had a single interview, let alone a job offer. On Tuesday I sent out four applications for jobs and got four rejections inside of 18hours. The first one only took 2.5 hours.

Are you freaking kidding me?

I thought I had a shot at an ER job at a local hospital and had talked with the unit manager and the hiring nurse on the phone. I had met the manager a year ago and he told me to call when I graduated. I did and when I hooked up with the hiring manager she was very positive and told me she had some openings and would bring me down for an interview once she had all her internal stuff taken care of.

Two weeks later she tells me that the hospital system is closing another hospital across town and they are going to try and fill all their open spots with the 200 or so displaced nurses.

Another area hospital is willing to talk to me, but they don’t have anything open full time. But they will call me when they do. I’m holding my breath.

And I have another connection with a hospital close to home. My best friend works with the husband of the head nurse recruiter there. He’s passed along my resume, and I’ve spoken to her too. But she wants to wait until I have my license to talk to me about a job.

The hospital where I did most of my training hasn’t called me for a single thing, try as I might.

I can’t do home care or go to a nursing home because I don’t have a license. Right now hospitals are my only option.

Most, if not all of the jobs I’ve seen posted require experienced nurses. It’s a buyer’s market out there. Experienced nurses are a dime a dozen and recruiters who were killing themselves to get warm bodies 18 months ago are now buried under piles of resumes.

The next person I hear tell me that everyone needs nurses and it’s a recession proof job is getting their teeth bent.

Sooner or later I will probably find a job, but right now it’s tight.

And for the record, I am a vindictive bastard. These places that won’t give me the time of day will, someday, be back to begging for RNs.

They will want me. I will remind them of this time. And if they kiss my ass enough I just might talk with them. But before I go to work there someone is going to write me one hell of an obscenely large check.

So, to all you hospitals and hospital recruiters out there, mark my words.

I will remember this. I will remind my nurse friends when the time comes.

It’s going to cost you in the long run. It’s going to cost you like you can’t imagine.

And I’ll be there.

Laughing.

A Christmas Tradition

2009-12-16T15:34:00.002-05:00

I posted this last year and as promised/threatened, I'm posting it again. Because it's my favorite Chrsitmas memory.

Both of my parents were/are totally nuts. Not usually bad (although Big Lou had a temper and Mom could handle herself in a fight) but funny, and, if you were their kid, often embarrassing to some degree.

Everything I am about to tell you is true. I witnessed it first hand.

In December of 1993 my father, Big Lou, worked for an auto company has never taken a loan from the government.

One of his friends was given some tickets to the Kenny Rogers Christmas Spectacular which was playing at the Fox Theater in downtown Detroit. Three of those tickets found their way to Big Lou.

So I put the folks in my car and we went downtown to see the show. When we got there it turned out that we had front row seats. Big Lou sat on the left-hand end of the row, then Mom and then me.

The opening act was Shelby Lynne, who, despite having a Sinead O’Conner haircut was pretty cute and very enjoyable.

When the curtains opened up to start the main act the music started and out comes Kenny Rogers. He’s carrying a bunch of tambourines and he starts tossing them into the crowd.

My mother suddenly turned into Arnold Horshack, waving her arms in the air, bouncing half out of her seat and yelling Oooo! Oooo! Kenny (I call him Kenny) sees her, and sensing her desperation tosses Mom a Tambourine and goes on with his opening number.

Then he talks to the crowd a bit and tells the lucky few Tambourinists how and when to provide accompaniment and goes on with the show. He does a song or two and then stops. The house lights come up and Kenny starts to talk again.

He tells the audience how much he likes to watch the crowd as he performs. He can always tell who his fans are when he sees them singing along to every song in his repertoire. And he can also spot people who have been dragged in against their will. “People like this guy” he says, pointing to my Father.

The subsequent conversation went something like this:

Kenny: What’s you name?

Big Lou: Lou!

Kenny: Lou, tell me the truth now, you won’t hurt my feelings. Would you say you’re a big fan and you know all my songs, kind of a fan and you know some of the songs, or not a fan at all?

Big Lou: Kind of a fan.

Kenny: Kind of a fan. OK, Lou. Prove it. I’ll tell you what. For every one of my songs that you can name, I’ll give you $10.

Naturally, Big Lou freezes like a skinny dipping Inuit. Mom and I start trying to feed him answers. “The Gambler, Ruby, Lucile, Coward of the County...”

But we get shushed by Kenny. “No helping” he says.

Big Lou: The Gambler

Kenny: The Gambler. (Sighs and rolls his eyes) Fine. Here you go.

And he tosses Big Lou a ten spot!

But now Big Lou is out of answers and Mom and I are just dying because this is freaking great.

So Kenny say’s “Tell you what Lou. Every time you hear one of my songs you know just raise your hand and I’ll give you $10. But you have to be honest. I trust you.”

Big Lou: OK!

So the band starts up again and here we go with Coward of the County. After the first few bars up goes Big Lou’s hand and Kenny stroll over to the corner of the stage. Without stopping the song he tosses Lou another $10. He does two more songs and the same thing happens. So now Big Lou is up $40 on the free tickets he got.

The band starts up again and within a few notes his hand shoots up. He’s not going to miss any of this free money. Kenny starts singing Happy Birthday and Big Lou gets busted. But we all laugh, a fifth song starts up and bam, another $10 for Lou.

So now Kenny stops to talk again. He says that now is the time in the show where he asks for volunteers from the audience. He says that there are some rules. If you get picked you have to come up and you can’t volunteer anyone else. But he can.

Kenny: Lou, you have $50 of my money. Come on up here.

So up goes Big Lou and Kenny shows him where to stand. Then he asks for more volunteers.

Again, Mom goes into her Ron Palilo routine and again, sensing her need, Kenny points to Mom and up she goes. Ten more people get picked and they all form a line on stage with Big Lou at the far end of stage left and Mom right next to him.

Meanwhile I’m loving every minute of this, it’s a riot.

Now Kenny grabs a stack of what look like 8x10 pieces of poster board and hands one to each of the people on stage. He announces that they’re all going to sing The 12 Days of Christmas. Each person will sing the line on the card while Kenny sings the rest of the lyrics.

The music starts up and Kenny sings “On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me…”

Dads up first and even though he’s really a Baritone he’s always thought he was a Bass. In whatever the opposite of a falsetto is, he croaks out “…a partridge in a pear tree”.

Kenny stops.

The music stops.

Without a word he takes my father by the arm and moves him to the other end of the line, takes the last guys card and gives it to Big Lou and gives Big Lou’s card to the guy on the end. That guy gets moved up to the front to stand next to my Mom.

It’s a good crowd and they’re all laughing like hell and applauding. Big Lou is laughing along too. I’m in there in the front row and I must have been laughing harder than anyone else.

The music starts up again and Kenny sings “On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me…”

Now it’s Mom’s turn. She used to sing in the church choir. She sings “… a partridge in a pear tree.”

Kenny is shocked.

The music stops and he tries to tell her it’s two turtle doves but Mom isn’t having it! She starts arguing with the man on stage in front of a packed house! She knows the words, and it’s a partridge in a pear tree! He finally points to the card in her hand and eventually it sinks in. Vintage Mom. It was absolutely perfect!

The audience is howling and I am sprawled across all three of our seats, laughing hysterically, and hoping that if I do actually die laughing that someone will resuscitate me fast enough to see the rest of the show.

They try it again and this time Mom comes through.

Finally it’s Big Lou’s turn again, the crowd applauds, the song ends and my parents and the other 10 people on stage all shake Kennys hand and return to their seats.

Kenny does a few more songs, Shelby Lynn comes out and they sing a duet and then the show ends.

As we leave the theater people are calling out to my Dad and he’s waving back, loving the attention “yeah, I got $50” he tells people who ask. I just walk along with Mom and Big Lou, smiling and bemused.

That is probably my favorite Christmas memory. If I ever get the chance to meet Kenny Rogers I fully intend to thank him for the great time, the great show and the great memory.

If you live in a place where he puts on a Christmas show, go see it. Even if you don’t end up in the front row I expect you’ll still enjoy it.

Now please, share a fun and funny holiday memory of your own.

Merry Christmas.

Caption this photo

2009-09-20T11:12:00.003-04:00

Alright, so I'm sitting in my regular spot at my regular time in my usual Panera writing papers and getting ready for a quiz tomorrow.

Then this guy shows up.

It's not a great shot, but I can tell you that there's a Ferrari logo on the side of his hat and there's no Ferrari visible in the parking lot and as far as I know there is no racing event going on locally that might explain it.

And there's a logo on the shirt as well.

Based on the lines I can see, the undershirt is a wifebeater, as required by law.

The shorts are cargo shorts and the little inserts in the pockets are white. The shoes (3/4 hightops) appear to match. They have a Ferrari patch too!

I haven't seen his face but I'm betting there's a thin, ratty adolescent mustache happening. Just saw the profile and I'm surprised to learn my guess was inaccurate. Hmph. How about that.

Maybe there'll be a ludicrous gold chain.

Nope. Rats.

But the shoes! They have the logo too!

And now there are matching sunglasses!

As ridiculous as he is, I have to admire his level of commitment. Lugi, the little tire salescar from the movie "Cars" wasn't this devoted. There's not a doubt in my mind about his first stop after he wins the lottery.

I wish I had some musical and lyrical talent. This guy needs to be immortalized in a Bud Lite "Real Men of Genius" spot.

I know it's mean, but really, if you don't want to be mocked by some anonymous guy on the internet then don't go out in public looking like this.

What are your thoughts?

My Favorite Poem

2009-09-14T17:05:00.003-04:00

By Paul Gilmartin

Sister Joan, age 54, ignores the desert sun,
The stranded church bus smoking,
no sign of anyone.

Buzzards circle overhead, panic starts to set.
The kids are getting restless, her habit soaked with sweat.

The minutes become hours, she wobbles in the heat.
Then, a distant engine roars, approaching from the East.

She squints through horn-rimmed glasses, her pure heart skips a beat.
Snake McGinty's Harley Hog,
parts the dusty heat.

Black leather-clad from head to toe, his eyelids barely open,
Sister Joan says, "Holy Ghost,
please tell me that you're joking."

He parks his bike, stands six foot four, then gives her a nod.
Through leather pants his manhood shows,
she rolls her eyes at God.

"Havin' trouble?", he barely mumbles. "Yes sir", she replies.
He pops the hood, takes off his shirt, she covers up her eyes.

"Kids", she says, "Back on the bus. Everyone be good."
Her fingers part, her eyes take in
his reflection off the hood.

She grips her rosary tight with guilt and stares down at her socks.
Her mind protects her vows with God,
but her body picks the lock.

He bends to check the fan belt, her nipples say, "Hello".
Her eyes climb up his leather chaps
like a snail with vertigo.

She shuts her eyes and shakes her head, her legs start feeling funny.
"Lord", she says, "For work like this,
I'm making shitty money."

He shuts the hood, "My name is Snake, I'm wanted in five states."
She said, "Snake you're my forbidden fruit,
and I need a little taste."

The kids look on in disbelief. The kiss is slow, then faster.
Cheering rocks the school bus, till she says
"Snake let's ditch these bastards.

As they left, the kids screamed "No", she turned around and waved.
Her next confession killed a priest
and lasted seven days.

For years the scandal rocked the church, but she regained their trust.
She still teaches Sunday school,

but she doesn't drive the bus.

Because the internet needs my opinion

2009-09-10T17:05:00.002-04:00

Here's how to fix healthcare in a few easy steps:

#1- Go back to the old model of health insurance being there for catastrophes. Your auto insurance doesn't pay for oil changes, new tires or wiper blades, and your homeowner’s policy won’t pay for landscaping or roof repair.

#2- Stop letting insurance companies manipulate the market by setting the prices that Dr's charge. The Docs and the Hospitals will figure out ways to get what they need (like charging $30 for 10 ml of saline to flush your IV line).

Here's an analogy for what happens now. Let's say you go grocery shopping and fill your cart with all the things you need to feed yourself and family for a week. You go up to the checkout where the groceries are rung up and the total comes to $165. You look at the receipt item by item and decide what you're going to pay. Then you hand the cashier $97.43 and walk out. (This is what insurance companies do when they get the bill your doc submits).

If you did the same thing at the grocery store every week it wouldn't take long before the grocery store started charging cart rental fees, promotional program recovery surcharges, and raising the price of ground chuck to $12.99 per pound.

#3 Tort reform. I kind of like the European model of loser pays. That means that if you sue and lose you have to pay the other guys court costs. If you win, they pay yours. It lessens the likelihood of frivolous lawsuits. Limiting awards might be a good idea as well. Less risk to the Docs would mean less need for defensive medicine and less strain on resources. Not everyone needs an MRI for a sprained ankle.

If we went back to fee for service medicine you’d see more Doc’s going in to general medicine. At the same time you’d be able to see your doc usually same day and he or she would spend more than 3 minutes with you while you were in the exam room. You might even see a return to the old days when there was a town doctor who made housecalls, charged reasonably and still made a great living. And it will be because the docs will charge what patients can afford; just like every other business on the planet does.

Did you know that most pediatricians make about $90-95K per year? For 10 years of extra educations and student loan debt larger than a lot of mortgages? No thanks. GP's don't make much more. That's why med students specialize.

Stop trying to fix things, throw the insurance lobbyists (and the rest of the special interests on both sides of the isle) out of our capitols and let the market control itself.

I guarantee things will get better fast.

And remember to ask yourself “When was the last time the government did something right, or at least better than the private sector?”

I have more, but you get the gist

Helping Hands

2009-09-09T18:14:00.002-04:00

Jeff over at The West Virginia Surf Report asked for Good Samaritan stories this afternoon. Here's what I said:

I have two Good Samaritan stories.

The first one happened when I was about 20. I was home from college and my little brother was home sick from school with mono. I went up the road to the video store to rent some movies for him. As I was walking around the corner of the store from the parking lot I spied a little grey tumbleweed across the road.

When I looked closer, it was the top of an old ladies head. She was face down and appeared to have fallen while crossing a side street on the other side of the 4 lane road we were on. She was sort of wiggling around, trying to get up and so I went running over, knelt down and asked her if she was alright.

She looked up at me with a pretty good scrape on the bridge of her nose and said “I’m drunk!” in the kind of old-lady voice that is only possible after years of cigarette and whiskey use.

Crap.

She was wearing a jacket with the logo of a bar across the street, so when someone else stopped to help I went over there and asked if anyone knew her. They did, and said they “hate that old bitch”.

Unbelievable.

The guy who stopped to help was still there when I came back so he helped me get her up and he drove her home.

Story number 2

A few months ago Mona and I were on an interstate going to drop The Peanut off at my mother-in-laws house.

As we approached the cloverleaf interchange to another highway we saw a car up on the embankment just past the off ramp but before the overpass. The driver’s door was open and there was a woman lying on the ground while another woman holding her head.

We pulled over and as I was getting close another guy started rolling up what looked like an envelope and was yelling “Open her mouth!” I asked if she was seizing, was told yes, and told him not to put anything in her mouth and to just let her seize.

I jumped over the ditch and asked what happened.

Envelope guy told me something, and over the traffic noise I hear “shot herself”. Shit. So now I’m looking for blood and I asked him to say it again. He tells me she shot herself up with something and points to the car. On the driver’s seat is an insulin needle and a tiny Ziploc baggie. Shit again. The guy said they saw her just swerve across the road and stop on the embankment.

I knelt down, checked her breathing and pulse and then looked at her pupils. She was OK but very clearly stoned and totally out of it.

A state trooper and the paramedics showed up just then. I just walked away.

Seriously, I know you’re an addict, but even so, shooting up on a road where the speed limit is 70 MPH and most cares are going closer to 80!?! WTF!

It was incredible that she didn’t kill anyone. And I’ll bet she was pretty pissed when the ER gave her some Narcan and totally killed her high.

So apparently I only rescue people with addiction issues.

Word goulash

2009-09-01T02:09:00.001-04:00

It's 12:45 AM and I'm sitting here in room 314 of the hospital where I do my clinicals with my Mother-in-law who had a total mastectomy of her right breast yesterday afternoon. My presence here was not part of the plan. I'm here because Grandma Hildegard was freaked out after surgery and wanted someone to spend the night. Her husband, Mona's step-father can't stay (in my opinion it's due to a lack of character and intestinal fortitude), Mona is too tired and my sister-in-law has two kids at home and has to work on the other side of town tomorrow. So I stepped up. I am Iron Man.

I was hoping to get some sleep but I don't think it's going to happen. Grandma Hildegard snores.

Lucky for me it's still semester break, so this isn't going to wreck me for school. And interestingly enough (to me anyway) this is the unit I'll be working on when we do get back. I can't decide whether or not to tell the nurse (or nurses) my story. Part of me wants to just so that I can take some liberties with regard to things like checking charts and asking questions that might be frowned upon were I just some guy off the street. The other part of me wants to keep quiet and scope the place out some. I've never worked on this unit and I like the idea of being able to observe incognito, if you will.

How was school you ask? Fine. Came through the last semester with 3 A's and a B (a freaking B!). That brings my GPA down to a 3.77. I don't want it to go any lower. I hear the last semester is better, so hopefully I'll be fine. I know it's shorter. We only have 8 weeks of classes and then it's off to our preceptorships where we work in the hospital full time with one nurse, covering his or her patients. 180 hours doing that and then I graduate, so the light is definitely at the end of the tunnel.

Then I just have to find a job. And to my great shock and horror, nursing jobs are actually pretty thin on the ground. Hard to believe I know, but that's what happens when the economy tanks like this. And I don't mean like it has where you are (unless you're actually here). I live in the Detroit area. The latest unemployment numbers show nearly 18% unemployment in the metro area and just under 30% in the city itself.

You might think that would have little effect on nursing jobs. People still get sick and hurt right? There's a nursing shortage, isn't there? Well, sort of.

You see, when the auto industry tanked (for the love of God people, start buying American will you?) a lot of people lost jobs. Auto workers, suppliers, tradespeople, vendors, etc. And when if became apparent that those jobs would be gone for a while all the nurses who were staying home while their spouse worked reentered the labor force (burnout and families help to create the perceived shortage) in order to keep the bills paid.

At the same time, nurses who were planning on retiring changed their minds when their 401k's dried up and blew away.

Finally, as more and more people lost insurance and went on Medicaid or simply were unable to pay their bills hospitals were forced to close whole units and floors in order to cut costs. Nurses aren't getting laid off, but they're being moved into unfilled slots or sent to other affiliated hospitals that have openings.

The result is few jobs.

Up until earlier this evening I was toying with the idea of joining the Airforce reserve and working as a nurse there. But it looks like I'd end up deployed overseas somewhere and Mona is not interested in that at all. She's worried I'd get shot. I've suggested to her that I could specialize in obstetrics (which I really enjoyed) which should keep me away from the shooting since mothers in their 3^rd trimester almost never go to combat, but I don't know of that would even keep me inactive. So I don't think I'll be signing up. Had I done this before I met her I think I would. It a job that fascinates me and I like the idea of serving in the military. Maybe I'll just try and work at the VA. That way I can still give back a little.

I drive like a person who has someplace to be. It seems that most of the people who drive on my roads (yes, they're mine, I own them) don't feel the same way. They dawdle. They lolligag. They obstruct. They frustrate me.

Now that The Peanut can understand and repeat things, I have learned to call these prius shaped pylons Yahoos when she is in the car. I tell her things like “Peanut, tell these Yahoos to get out of Daddy's way!” She pipes up with “Get out of the way, Yahoos!” Last week we were all driving somewhere when she asked me “Daddy, why do you say Yahoos?” I looked at Mona and under my breath said “It's because Mommy gets mad when I say MotherF&#*er”

Last weekend Mona and I took a trip to Chicago. There were only 2 things I wanted to do while I was there: go to the Shedd Aquarium and have an Italian Beef sandwich (preferably from Al's). Mission accomplished. I haven't had an Italian Beef since April of 2003. And it was every bit as good as I remember.

What's an Italian Beef you ask? It's sort of like a Philly cheese steak (and yes, I've been to Pat's in Philly so I know what I'm talking about) but instead of putting fried onions on the sandwich they put Italian gardinera, which is sort of pickled hot peppers, celery, cauliflower, sometimes carrots (there's also a sweet version, but I love the hot) and they take the whole thing and submerge it in the broth (sort of like au jus) that the meat has been in all day, wrap it in 6 or 7 layers of waxed butcher paper and foil and serve it. Best sandwich ever. Seriously. I am amazed that they haven't caught on in the rest of the country.

We stayed just a couple of blocks off of the Miracle Mile (the Midwestern version of 5^th Avenue). One day while wandering around the city, Mona asked me to go into a store called the American Girl store with her.

Has anyone ever heard of this place? They sell dolls. Their own line of dolls. You can even pick out dolls that have your hair. Skin and eye color so that your doll looks like you. Then you can buy matching clothes for you and the doll. And doll accessories. Like bunk beds with bedding. For over $200. On the top floor behind all the stuff for sale is sort of a little mall. They have a cafe where you can eat and a “hospital” where your doll can be repaired as necessary. Before you get to the cafe or the hospital you see a line of people all with frenzied little girls standing in a rope line in front of a counter that's about 30 feet long and slightly concave. On the top of the counter are little swivel chairs, and behind the chairs are American Girl employees. It's their job to, for $20, (and I swear this is true) give your doll a hairstyle! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. It's the end of the world.

Now anyone who has ever read anything I've written should by now hopefully understand that I am an unabashed and unapologetic capitalist. I believe in the free market and peoples right to make as much money as they can within the confines of the law.

But this place is too much, even for me.

A fucking doll hair salon? Matching outfits for your daughter and her doll? Three figure doll accessories? And streams of parents and grandparents lining up to pack the place full of cash? Unbelievable. It was so over the top that I was actually offended by the time we left. It was just immoral. How the hell can anyone, even Bill freaking Gates, justify spending that kind of money on a creepy doll? How?

As much as I rant, I can't do it justice. It's simply too appalling for words.

And it's now 2:07 AM. I'm getting pretty sleepy, so I'm going to try and nod off. You are now more or less up to date.

Almost there

2009-08-10T15:47:00.002-04:00

So I took my final in my big class today (the one that combined maternity, child and adult nursing into one gigantic ball of knowledge and stress which was then hurled at our heads like a late winter gravel-filled slushball) and got an 89%. That's enough for a solid B and I'll happily take it.

All the other classes are done. I have two more days at the hospital (which is really just going there to get our evaluations) and I'm off for 3 weeks (four weekends). The Peanut is staying in daycare, so it's going to be an actual break for me. I'm glad, because I think I need it. Normally I don;t need vacations. I used to take them just because I had the time and it was kind of expected. But this one I feel like I earned. It was a long, stressful grind and I'm glad it's behind me. Another 8 weeks of classes to go, then 180 hours working with a nurse one-on-one and then I have to find a job and pass my boards. Anyone want to help me find some gainful employment come January? Hello?

That's the short update. I really came here to post something that I had to write for one of my classes. It was kind of a blow-off class. I called it my pallet cleanser. It didn't require any studying, just showing up and talking about "issues". All in all I enjoyed it. I'm all about issues.

Anyway, one of the issues that we talked about was a trend in hospitals for nurses to cover up their last names on their name tags. We were given a couple of articles on the issue and were asked to write a short position paper. It was really short, but I made it as long as I could get away with without being way over the assignment limits. As a result it's pretty tight and less developed than it could be. But like I said, I think it's an interesting issue. Have a look if you've a mind to, and tell me what you think. Here it is (citations available upon request):

American culture has become less and less formal in recent years. In most businesses employees are on a first name basis with everyone else, right up to the CEO. Business casual is the new dress code in many places, and in some sectors blue jeans and t-shirts are the norm. The president of the United States has revised White House dress codes, no longer requiring suit jackets be worn at all times. Polo shirts and khakis can even be found on tellers and loan officers in many banks, which have traditionally been the most staid and sober of institutions. In hospitals nurses have abandoned the traditional starched whites in favor of a mix of scrubs and logo shirts. It's worth noting here that physicians have yet to discard their long white coats.

In many places nurse have not only abandoned their uniforms, they've given up their last names. Most seem to have done it gladly, accepting the new American informality with scarcely a thought. They introduce themselves by their first name, and in some cases take steps to conceal their surnames. Concealing last names or credentials is an issue being addressed by Nursing’s governing bodies in various states (Powell & Malone, 2002) with a variety of results; but still patients call for nurses using first names and physicians and other staff generally use a nurse’s first name while in a patients room and no one thinks anything of it. Nurses accept and encourage this practice generally.

A physician was asked by the author how she refers to nurses when in front of a patient, and was told that if the nurse is in the room she usually uses a first name. Were she to encounter a nurse who insisted on being address by his or her title and last name in when in front of a patient she would consider that nurse somewhat cold, snooty and pretentious. Conversely, she expects to be referred to as “Doctor”. She feels that patients want their physicians, even the female ones, to take a paternal role, essentially telling patients what they must do, allowing patients to abdicate their decision making rights completely. Nursing, she noted is more maternal and intimate, and the use of a first name makes establishing a relationship easier. The physician suggested that using a nurse’s first name makes patients more comfortable.

Some of her points regarding a nurse’s relationship to a patient feel true. Most of us would address our attorney by their first name, yet they seem to retain their status. But in court, the judge addresses those attorneys with the Mr. or Ms. honorific, followed by their last name. Attorneys of course address the judge by title or honorific, and fail to do so at their own peril. Formality and at least the outward appearance of respect are expected. It would seem that the analogy in this case fails to hold up.

Opposite this, an example that comes to mind is a server in a restaurant. It's not uncommon to be seated at a table and have a waiter or waitress arrive with a name tag that reads “Jennifer C”. Jennifer C then introduces herself by saying something like “Hi, I'm Jenny, I'll be your server tonight. Can I get you something to drink?” Substitute server for nurse and you have a scene that plays out in hospitals all around the country every day. If nurses are unable to separate themselves from the staff at the local Denny's how can we expect the general public to know the difference between the 23 year old college senior refilling their water glass and the 23 year old baccalaureate prepared ICU nurse holding an IV bag and managing fluid and electrolytes at their loved-one's bedside?

The use of last names sometimes brings out strong emotions when nurses are asked opinions on the issue. Most seem to cite the need for security, talking about patients and families who may make threats or become obsessed with the nurse to the point of harassment and stalking. Here again this seems to be less of a concern for physicians, even those who happen to be young and female. Perhaps there is a difference in maturity level between a 20 year old with an ADN (associate degree) and a 26 year old first year resident. Age, experience, education and the almost Olympian authority bestowed by the letters MD may provide a degree of protection that the young nurse does not enjoy. However, while planning this paper, nurses who did cite security always had anecdotes that involved a friend of a friend. None claimed to have been stalked, threatened or attacked personally. Google searches were performed on keywords “nurse attacked”, “nurse threatened” and “nurse stalked” and the first 100 returns were checked. When combined with attacked or threatened, it appeared that it was more often the nurse who was attacking or threatening someone. In the cases where a nurse was attacked, the fact that the victim was a nurse appeared to be coincidental unless the attack occurred in a patient care setting. Stalking does seem to be a more significant issue, but still most of the evidence reviewed was anecdotal with only a few exceptions.

Gordon and Grady suggest that using nurse’s first names while at the same time insisting on titles for physician’s subtlety demeans and devalues the nurse and his or her role in the eyes of the patient, the physician, and within the profession of nursing itself. They argue that using our last names and credentials will help nurses win and retain the position of respect that they have earned (Gordon & Grady, 1995).

The arguments for allowing informality seem fairly weak overall, and nurses need to start recognizing it. In giving up our surnames along with the titles we have earned we give up or fail to gain respect from our patients, their physicians, and most importantly, from ourselves. In concealing our names and credentials we deny our identities and imply that a patient hasn’t the right to know the name of his or her caregiver. None of these things are acceptable. Nurses will stop being treated as second class citizens as soon as we stop behaving like second class citizens.

Wow, its been a while, hasn't it...

2009-06-27T10:05:00.002-04:00

First of all, I apologize to everyone who I've been neglecting for a while. I do still stop by your places, but I generally do it on my mobile device and don't have much time for commenting. But I'm lurking and one day plan to get back to being the old, pre-nursing school me.

Yes, I'm still here. Everything is as good as can reasonably be expected and a little stressful. It's manageable, but man, am I busy. I'm also dumping a lot of stuff on Mona because I'm always at the books. She's holding up, but it's tough on her too.

School is ok, grades are generally good with one test that was a B- (I contend the test was poorly written, my grade was top 7 or so) and a lot of busy work and more studying than I care for.

I'm at a local Panera and am taking a break right now from reading for a test on Monday. I'll pass, it's just annoying.

Clinicals are good. I'm on a medical/surgical floor on Wednesdays and doing labor and delivery on Thursday and Friday. Classes are Monday and Tuesday. Med/Surg is what it is. A couple of weeks ago I had a patient poop on the floor after telling me he didn't need to go when I asked him 3 minutes earlier. Then he pooped again. And again. The last 2 times we got him on the toilet. Oh, the glamour.

I am really liking labor and delivery. It's a good atmosphere and the nurses and the doctors all work well together. That's not really the case on most hospital floors. I hear ER is a similar environment in that regard, but I don't think I'll get to find out (long story) while I'm in school. Right now, if given a choice, I would happily go to work on L&D.

In two weeks we leave L&D and go to pediatrics. I think at least some of my time might be in the peds ER, but it's more like urgent care. Trauma and really serious stuff goes to the children's hospital at the big university 10 minutes away. That might be cool. I hear from the others that most of what they are getting is simple stuff and a fair amount of swine flu.

I took a break and went to a nursing message board and read a story about an older student who graduated and then took her Nursing Board (called the N-CLEX) exam. It's something that every graduate nurse and student fears and dreads. And I'm sure it's the same for every profession that requires a licensing exam. I've heard more than one person say they leave the testing center and vomit in the parking lot.

Anyway, I read the little story and a few of the comments and found myself starting to tear up. And then I started laughing at myself. Right in the middle of Panera. Luckily there aren't many people in here.

But that little episode tells me I might be feeling a little more stress than I'm willing to admit. Which is why I'm taking a few minutes to write this all down. Hopefully I can get at least a little of this off my chest.

I am easily in the top third of my class. I am good on the floor and in front of patients. My instructors like me, as do the nurses I work with (I'm basing this on the feedback I get from the clinical instructors).

Intellectually I know that I am going to pass all my classes and I'll pass my boards. As much as there is to know, it's not rocket science. But I still get a little freaked out from time to time. I'll be OK. Really I will.

This semester ends in mid-August. They say the third semester is a lot easier. Right now I just need to make it to August. I will make it to August.

Holy crap, why isn't it August yet??!!

Here's my nursing self diagnosis: Impaired coping related to educational and family stress as evidenced by simultaneously crying and laughing in Panera.

Not To Put Too Fine a Point On It...

2009-04-16T14:39:00.002-04:00

... but my grade are pretty much finalized now. So I thought I'd share. I'm changing some of the names of the classes just to be a little less searchable.

How to give someone a physical, nurse style (2 Credits) A (~98%)

All the basics of Nursing and The basics of being a nurse on a psych floor (5 Credits) : A (98.3%)

An overview of nursing issues (2 Credits): A (~98%)

Drug, drugs, and more drugs (3 Credits): A- (91.6%)

How diseases work (4 Credits): A- (~92.4%)

Actually working in a hospital and in mental ward: (5 Credits) A (~97%)

That should make my GPA a 3.9

Here's the thing. I don't find it all that difficult from an intellectual standpoint. It keeps me busy, especially the parts where I have to write papers, but I don;t struggle to "understand" the content. To tell the truth, so far it's mostly been common sense.

I am pleased with my performance, but to a certain extent I feel like I'm just performing at the level that I expected. I can live with a B if its a nice high B, but in truth I expect to get A's. So getting an A doesn't feel like an achievement. It's more like a milestone to me.

I suppose that's both good and bad. Good in the sense that I hold myself to a relatively high standard, bad in that there is little joy in what amounts to very good performance. I'm also concerned that I'll expect The Peanut to always bring home A's. And that would be unfair, especially considering my high school GPA was something like a 2.5 The only C's I ever got in college were Accounting I and II. I can understand Chemistry and Physics and Statistics without a problem, but accounting remains a mystery.

At any rate, it's something that I intend to look out for. I tell her now that she's my favorite Peanut because she is so smart, so nice and so cute. I want to keep reinforcing that (hopefully in more sophisticated ways) as she gets older. I want a kid who is smart, confident and tough. But I digress.

The real upside of the GPA is that if I can keep it up I'll get into graduate school pretty easily, if that's really what I want. I got into this program with the idea that Ic ould always return to sales, but I don't know if I really want to do that. Even though you can make a heck of a good living, it's always uncertain.

But the more I go to school the more I wonder if just staying in patient care is the better choice. I think I could move into management pretty easily, just because I have a business background and I'm male. The faculty has told us to expect to move into management just on the basis of our having dual degrees. We're sort of expected to be leaders.

If I don't choose administration, I could do grad school and become a nurse practitioner. There seems to be a trend now that nurse practitioners are being replaced by DNPs. or Doctors of Nursing Practice. A DNP is actually a year shorter than doing a masters followed by nurse practitioner school. In the end the duties are the same, but you call one of them Doctor (I'm not sure how I feel about that).

The thing about doing a DNP is the income. It's a three year, part-time program that is mostly online. You can work and go to school simultaneously. Because it's a practical degree there is no research or thesis requirement. After you graduate, bang, you've pretty much guaranteed yourself an upper middle class income for life. I like the idea of not having to sweat to put The Peanut through college.

Then Mona also wants to go back to school and get a psychology masters. She wants to do early intervention type stuff with autistic kids. So add in an income like that and we'll be OK to retire someday. She's taking an online intro to psych class now and like likes what she's learned so far.

The DNP also might be cool for retirement. Mona wants to re-up with the Peace Corps when we pack it in. Part of me thinks that might be cool. With a DNP I think I could pick my post and pretty much be sure that I wouldn't be digging wells and evading guerrillas in some scary jungle somewhere.

Some people with my GPA in nursing want nurse anesthesia, but I don't think that's for me. It's another two years of full time school, and I don't know if we can really afford that. Plus, in my opinion, the OR is boring and being a nurse anesthetist looks like lots of boredom with the occasional moments of panic and a high risk for malpractice suits. That's just my opinion. If you want to be a nurse anesthetist please don't let me stop you. The people who do it seem to love it, and the money is fantastic.

At any rate, you're now up to speed.

So what do you think? Do I go back to sales and keep nursing as a fallback? Do I try for management and administration? How about Grad school and a doctorate?

If you've read this far it's my great hope that you'll share your opinion. I really appreciate hearing everyone's thoughts.

My Brain Is So Big That My Neck Can Barely Hold My Head Up

2009-04-09T23:02:00.007-04:00

I am a genius.

Here’s why.

Today was my last day of school for five weeks. All my finals are taken, papers written and evaluations performed.

This semester I (and the rest of my class) carried 21 credit hours. The first two weeks were devoted to a single two credit course that was basically preparatory. After that we had ten weeks and 19 credit hours. 5 of those credit hours were for time spent in the hospital working with patients. The other 14 credit hours were didactic classes.

In the first clinical rotation we did two eight hour shifts per week on a medical floor at an area hospital. We worked with a patient or two and did basic stuff that I’ve already written about. My clinical instructor thought I was the cat’s PJ’s. My evaluation was really good from her and she told me that I should spend a little time doing patient care before I moved on to bigger and better. The implication was that I would most certainly be moving on to bigger and better. My written and clinical grade was 3.989 out of 4.0.

My classmates knew the instructor liked me, but since she didn’t dislike any of them there weren’t any issues with favoritism or jealousy. The instructor told us as a group that we were pretty strong, and I think the lowest grade anyone got was a 3.5.

I figured my grade was due at least a little to the fact that I was well liked, so I figured that the next rotation would sort of round things out.

Tonight I finished my psych rotation (again, two eight hour shifts per week) and got another evaluation from a different clinical instructor. She told me I got the top grade in our class, 3.875 out of 4.0. She marked me down in one category, but only because she felt that no one at this level of education or experience could possibly get a perfect score in that category. But she felt that I was very strong and plans to ask the program chair to round my grade up a little. Ultimately it won’t matter, but it’s nice to hear.

The thing that really gets me is that this instructor hasn’t shown any hints of liking anyone more than anyone else. She also says that we are a very strong group in general. My written work seems to be a little better than most because, in her opinion, I listened to her requirements and instructions and delivered what she asked for. This was not the case with some of my classmates, although they did well enough.

So that’s twice now that I’m on the top of the pile. So maybe the hype is true after all.

Here’s what I think my final grades will be:

Clinicals: A
Clinical lecture: A
Assessment: A
Intro to Nursing: A
Pathophysiology: A-
Pharmacology Low A- or High B+

85% of the Pharm grade is in, and my score is 90.7%. 91% is an A-. The final 15% is participation. I never missed a class, so hopefully that will get me that last .3%

The real upside of this is really about whether or not I want to do graduate or doctoral work. For example, if I wanted to be a nurse anesthetist (and I don’t really), I would probably need a 3.8 GPA to get into most programs.

Other programs, like Masters of Nursing or Advanced Practice Nursing probably want 3.5 or better. They also take into account whether you went into an accelerated program like the one I'm in. Apparently high grades in an accelerated program look pretty good to admissions people. They figure if you can hack it here you can deal with graduate or post graduate work.

It looks like the Nurse Practitioner degree is going to go away over the next few years. There seems to be a trend to replace it with a Doctor of Nursing Practice degree. It’s really similar but from what I understand also adds in some more about the business side of running a practice.

Someone also recently told me that the degree is done quite heavily on line, since it’s really about theory mostly. People are able to work while they’re in class. And since it’s about nursing practice there’s no thesis or research needed to have the degree awarded.

The upside socially is for these DNP’s to take up some of the slack for physicians. And it looks like we’re headed for a shortage of them too. The personal upside is Nurse Practitioners and DNPs have low six figure incomes. That’s highly appealing.

The downside is that it’s confusing for patients. “You’re Doctor Nurse?” It also upsets physicians, who see DNPs as competition for patients. I understand that, and in their shoes I might be concerned too.

As far as the title goes, I think if I did it I’d only let people call me Doctor once per day. After that it’s Jorge. Or maybe Doc.

In the short term I need to find a job and pay off student loans for tuition at a private college. Hopefully I can find an employer who has a tuition forgiveness program (that's becoming more common in some places where nurses are in demand).

But I digress. The point is that my grades are excellent. More than one critical source has now rated me Awesome. External validation rocks.

I am a genius.

Help! I'm Stuck in an Idiom!

2009-03-28T15:16:00.003-04:00

I am now knee deep in my psychiatric nursing rotation.

I spend two days a week, usually on the afternoon shift, at a local psychiatric hospital. I'm on a locked unit and some of the patients are, in clinical terms, bat-shit crazy. There are a lot of stories, schizophrenics and delusions all the time.

It's not as scary as most people think, but it can be a little weird sometimes.

Last night I was playing cards with a patient and a couple of students. We were playing spades. When it was my turn to deal I realized that we were short 2 cards.

I was in a mental hospital. We weren't playing with a full deck. Are you kidding me? Was it an accident or does someone, patient or staff member, have a sick sense of humor?

Somewhere in that story is two or three minutes of stand up comedy.

If a joke pops into your head I hope you'll share it.

I Just Couldn't Take It

2009-03-24T11:50:00.003-04:00

No, I haven't quit the program.

What I did do though, was walk out of a class today. In disgust.

Of course you're wondering why, and fully aware that I plan to tell you. What you are probably wondering is why I don't just get to the point. No reason.

So here goes.

I have class called Intro to Professional Nursing. It's really a blow off class, and the instructor has purposely set the bar low to allow us to focus on the hard science type classes. Everyone gets an A.

I have enjoyed the class mostly. It's a nice low stress break in the week.

Today was movie day. The instructor brought in a film related to health care, told us to watch it and explained that it would be discussed during class next week.

Why would I walk out on a movie? What could be so bad?

It was Michael Moore's "Sicko".

Whether or not you agree with the film, I hope you'll agree that it's an editorial, not a documentary. If you really think it's an unbiased work then you will likely not agree with anything that follows.

In my opinion the film was full of half truths. Like the guy who cut off his fingers on the table saw and could only afford to have one reattached. The last time I walked into an Emergency Room with an injury I was not offered a menu with prices. Why was one finger 5 times the cost of the second? Something about that smells wrong.

How about the golfer who went home for treatment in Canada instead of staying in the U.S.? U.S. Insurance usually travels. And when I do things like go SCUBA diving (which isn't covered by most insurers) I have a supplemental plan that will pay for anything I need, including being flown here from anywhere if treatment in the US is necessary. That costs me $99 a year. Canadians aren't covered by their government outside Canada. Atena covers me if I'm over there.

There are a whole bunch of other problems I have.

The thing that finally made me leave was the whole house call thing in France. The guy who talked about the service starting because a doctor with a plumbing problem decided that since he could get a plumber to come out in less than an hour, then anyone should be able to get a doctor to come to their own house that quickly too.

Yeah, plumbers are pretty much like doctors right? That's fair. Maybe if I need a neurologist one day I can just have my neighbor, the electrician, check me out. Holy shit.

It was then that I walked out.

Do I have opinions about whether or not US Healthcare sucks and how to fix it? Yes.

Am I going to share them? No.

Instead I am going to bitch about being subjected to a highly biased film in a program that is is not about opinion or or art. Nursing is and should be about fact. There are different kinds of heart attacks, and there are different treatments sometimes. But those treatments are all based on researched science. New ideas are tested rigorously. No responsible clinician passes off opinion as fact.

Blogs are the place for opinion. Classrooms should be places of fact, at least in a science based curriculum. I resent being subjected to that film. It's more than an hour of my time gone and who knows how many tuition dollars.

For the record, while I may have been less incensed, had the instructor played a 2 hours segment of something done by Rush Limbaugh I would have disapproved as well. I don't care for people with axes to grind or agendas to advance.

I am so annoyed that I can't even tie this together very coherently.

I think I'll just take a quick nap and then do some homework.

Are we bad parents?

2009-03-12T08:02:00.002-04:00

First, a little background.

You know of course that The Peanut is out of the crib and sleeping in her big girl bed.

You may also recall that I once posted a photo of my home here. It’s a 1940 bungalow with two bedrooms and a half bath upstairs and two on the main floor with a full bath. Mona and I sleep downstairs and The Peanuts room is upstairs.

There is a baby gate up there to keep her off the stairs, but she’s pretty good on them now so we rarely use it anymore. (I know what you’re thinking, and no, she didn’t fall down the stairs. Just wait.)

This morning however we had a little incident. Somewhere around 3 AM The Peanut woke up crying and looking for her blankie. She sometimes loses it in her bed. She settled back down after a minute or two and then had another short episode about 30 minutes later.

I finally got back to sleep around 4 AM.

At 5:45 Mona’s alarm went off. She hit the snooze and I thought I heard a little cough from near the foot of the bed. I called The Peanut’s name but she didn’t answer. Mona thought I was mistaken. But as soon as we started talking a bit, The Peanut showed up.

Apparently she decided she’d had enough of the big girl bed and come downstairs. The good news is that we have a very considerate little girl. Instead of waking us up or crawling into our bed, she simply displaces one of the dogs from its doggie bed.

That’s right. The Peanut slept on the floor in the dogs bed last night. No covers, and the dog won’t stay in there with her. So she ends up sleeping on the floor without the benefit of a fur coat or even her blankie.

Would you like to know the worst part?

This was the second time it's happened.

It passed

2009-03-10T23:01:00.003-04:00

Last Thursday we found out that Mona, along with all her co-workers, will be keeping their jobs.

We had some other plans in place, but it's nice to not need them. It's especially nice to know that at the very least we'll still have health insurance.

Spring Break was last week, I pretty much did nothing. I did see Watchmen on Friday. It was interesting, but also in my opinion mildly pornographic. The sex scenes left little to the imagination and there was a lot of full wangular nudity.

The best part about that day was the 66 degree high. I drove with my windows down and we aired out the house for a few hours.

I'm back at it this week, and Thursday starts my psych rotation. I'm told the place I'm going is basically alcohol rehab, which I imagine means dealing with a bunch of people who are sick and pissed. Great.

The Peanut is now in her big girl bed permanently. We took her crib down on Sunday.

We're also making progress with potty training. She is going pee on the potty about 80% of the time. We're still working on #2, which has only ended up in the potty a handfull of times. But any progress is fine with me. I'm ready to be done with diapers.

And that's the short version.

This too shall pass

2009-02-25T21:39:00.002-05:00

I'm worried.

Mona came home tonight and told me that a director at her company came in to meet with her managers and some HR people today.

The managers have been a little withdrawn since the meetings. Mona thinks she may lose her job and I'm concerned she's right. Her group is the best performing group in the country, but also the most expensive. They could move her job down south and cut their costs by 30%.

I expect that's what will happen, but I really, really hope I'm wrong.

But it's got me concerned.

Ultimately I think we'll be OK. We can make most of our payments from unemployment and I can use some of that scholarship money for expenses instead of tuition. If my brother keeps his job she can work as a nanny for his soon to arrive baby. With even a few hundred a month that should be enough to get us by.

Mona and I talked a little about the cuts that we'll have to make. Goodbye cable, netflix and cell phones and internet. No eating out. Ever. Lots of beans and rice and peanut butter and jelly. Movies will have to come from the public library (whoever invented libraries ought to be canonized. Seriously, that has to be the single greatest contribution to humanity that has ever been made).

I don't imagine we'll have the AC on much this summer if the worst happens.

I know that we can make it. I know that a lot of people are a heck of a lot worse off than we are. I know that tough times don't last forever. I know the good old day's weren't always good and tomorrow ain't as bad as it seems.

We're in a recession, but no matter what the media says, it's nothing like the Great Depression. We're just in a big readjustment.

No matter what happens, even if we hit rock bottom, I know my family and Mona's family will always be willing to provide food and shelter.

I think the worst is just the uncertainty of it all.

If I could just absolutely guarantee that I'm going to make it through this nursing program I'd feel much better. I know there is light at the end of the tunnel, and I know it's not a train. I just don't know if I will make it to the end or if I'll have to turn back and find another route.

There's no reason I shouldn't make it. I have the intelligence and the ability. Really the only thing that can really stop me is misfortune (I hope).

And to tell the truth, I have always felt lucky. Oh, I'm not lotto winner lucky, but I do think I have a fair amount of luck. Or divine assistance. Or both, and I mean it sincerely.

Whenever the proverbial stormclouds gather I seem to find a proverbial umbrella. I don't know why, but it seems to usually happen.

If it is divine intervention I am grateful and appreciative. I try and remember that when things are good too, and I like to take some time to simply say thank you for everything in my life that's good. And I try and do that same thing when things get tough.

Part of me wants to believe that my mother is somewhere looking out for me, or interceding on my behalf. I know that if she has that opportunity she's not letting it pass by. I hope I'm right about that and that Mom is happy and well wherever she is.

If the worst part about this whole thing is lost sleep and a few sacrifices, I'll count myself lucky. And I hope that no one else, anywhere, has it worse than that (even though I know they do).

We will all be OK. Every one of us. We're all in this together, and we'll all get through it together.

The best part will be telling our grandkids about how tough it was back around the turn of the century and how we had to tighten our belts, pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, dust our selves off, and plow ahead.

Good luck to us all.

A Couple of things

2009-02-24T22:44:00.008-05:00

First of all, school is going well for the most part. I have solid A's in all my classes except Pharmacology, which is a high C. I took the midterm this afternoon and my best guess is that I wound up with something like an 80%, which in this program is a C+. 74.9% is failing and that's it, you're out of the program.

I am deeply concerned about this class. I work harder on it than any other, and yet I struggle. And it's not just me. Most people are unhappy with this course. If I fail it, I'm gone, and on the street with no job and slim prospects.

I've talked with the instructor a bit, but she has failed to impress me. I think I may have to go see the program head if things get really shakey. The way I see it, if I am carrying 21 credits and 18 of them are A's and one is a C, it might not just be me.

Can you tell I'm a litte wound up about this?

Anyway, on to funnier stuff.

Last weekend I left the house to study and on my way home was instructed to head over to the pet store and buy some food for our Emergency Backup Dog, also known as the cat (we have a primary and auxillary dog, but I believe in tripally redundant pet systems).

While in line I took this picture.

Everything you see there on their shopping cart are clothes for pets. There are more outfits in hand and several already on the counter.

The guy behind me was laughing and said he wished he had his camera phone. All I could think about was how bad must that house smell. And those outfits were in the $15 and up range.

Wow.

Not for the weak stomached

2009-02-12T16:10:00.000-05:00

Dear lord what have I gotten myself into? I can't give too much detail but I am so grossed out from this morning at the hospital.

It all started when a patient told me to "put some gloves on".

I had to help a 400 pound guy pee so we could measure what was coming out.

He held up part of his belly while I held up his belly's belly which had to weigh at least 20 lbs, was purple, dimpled and looked and felt like a large brick (yes it was that solid) inside a sock made out of purple turkey skin with one hand while using the other to hold a piss jug up to his wangular area.

As if that wasn't bad enough right after I poured his piss in the toilet he let go with a silent fart that absolutely blindsided me.

I have a kid and large dogs and it wasn't my first time in a hospital. Normally I can get past funky smells. But something about this one really got to me.

I actually started to heave and for a moment thought I was going to puke in his sink.

I managed not to and then went to a staff bathroom to sort myself out.

I really had to think about whether or not I wanted to be in this program.

What a day.

Fun and Follies

2009-02-05T16:13:00.002-05:00

You may have noticed that I've been a little quiet lately.

Expect that to continue for the next 8 or 9 weeks. School has started for real and holy crap am I busy.

This week we had 2 exams, 3 papers (in APA format, cited and referenced as necessary) and 2 online quizzes. Plus 2 days working in the hospital. Next week I think I only have one paper due (maybe 2), but I have at least 3 exams and possibly an online quiz or two as well. They're doing their best to pack two years of school into 39 weeks.

This morning was a tough one. I got up at 4:45, got my stuff together and got to the hospital at about 6:20. That's when I noticed that I didn't have my hospital ID badge. Nor did I have a lock for my locker. Then I looked in my bag and realized that I didn't have the paper that was due today.

Luckily the girls from my class had all seen the paper and told the instructor that I wasn't just looking for extra time, so I'm OK there.

Later, we got our assignments for the day and I was sent to cover one patient. She's ill, but she didn't need a lot of help from me. She can feed herself and move OK and whatnot. And since I'm not allowed to pass medications yet, I had some extra time.

Out in the hall one of my classmates was headed for one of the rooms she was covering because the call light was on and needed to be turned off. She didn't know how to do it and I went in to look too. On the wall was a button that read CANCEL.

What do you think was below that one?

Yep.

A big red one that said CODE.

Can you guess which one I pushed?

Yep. That's right.

What happened next, you ask? I'll tell you.

Alarms started going off. People started coming from everywhere. I think there were people in the hallway from other hospitals in the next county. The PA lit up, "Code blue, 11 east.... Code blue 11 east". Peoples pagers started going off. Every person in that hospital heard it and I think anyone in scrubs was headed in that direction. Honestly, if I had been in an all boys middle school screaming "Horny naked supermodels here!" over and over I would not have gotten half as many people moving as I did just then.

I'm frantically pushing the CANCEL button and wishing that the PA would just shut up. The girl in my class was out in the hall telling people it was a false alarm.

Finally the sirens stopped and the PA announced the code was canceled. I was there in the room, starting to drip with flow sweat, wishing I could melt into the floor and giving serious thought to locking myself in the patients bathroom.

After it was all over the people were really very kind about the whole thing, but it was very embarrassing.

So that's the story of my THIRD DAY of clinicals. My third freaking day.

Crap.

Tomorrow I think I'll pull the fire alarm just to sort of round the whole thing out.

Ever had an embarassing moment at work or school? Please share it and help me ease the shame.

Just killing time

2009-01-23T13:25:00.002-05:00

I have about 90 mintues to kill so I figured I'd try and come up with an update.

This week was skills lab. We learned how to make beds with and without people in them, how to change dressings, place Foley catheters and naso-gastric tubes and give enemas and all sorts of fun stuff. Next week we start seeing real patients.

I'm at school using one of the library computers becuase classes ended at 12:30 and I have a 3:00 meeting about the scholarship I won. I brought my lunch with me because I figured it was pointless to drive 20 minutes to go home and another 20 to come back and burn the gas for the round trip.

I was going to go into a whole bunch of littel BS, but then I had an interesting chat with one of the other recipients and before I knew it it was time to go to the meeting.

This post probably marks the last time I have much time to update. The weekend is packed, just packed with family and school obligations and Monday starts the full course load: Pharmacology, Pathophysiology and two nursing classes plus two days a week working in the hospital full time.

So if you don't hear from me it's just a time thing. I'll be off for a month starting in mid-April and I'll be sure to catch you up then.

I also plan to try and keep you updated on grades and what not.

I'm "It"

2009-01-19T16:25:00.003-05:00

I was tagged by Alex.

Here are the rules:

But anyway, here are the rules:

1. Link to the person that tagged you

2. Post the rules on your blog

3. Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself

4. Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs

5. Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.

6. Let your tagger know when your entry is up.

I am suspending rule 5 since two of my four or five regular readers (at least those who leave comments regularly) are already doing this. But if you'd like to volunteer to be tagged then by all means consider yourself tagged.

So my six things.

1. I am extremely competitive. Extremely. Losing any kind of game drives me nuts. There is no such thing as a friendly game of cards to me. If I'm playing, I am playing to win. I've only once played in a Euchre tournament and if it hadn't been hosted by my brother I probably would have been asked to leave. When I used to golf I found that I enjoyed it most when I played by myself and didn't keep score.

2. My second toe is longer than my big toe. I have no idea what that means.

3. I want a permit to carry a concealed weapon. When I get the permit I plan to never carry a concealed weapon. I just want to be one of those responsible gun owners who never shoots anyone. So really I want to make a political statement rather than obey a law.

4. I like bagpipe music. I have a bagpipe music CD and would happily listen to Scottish radio if there were such a thing. I also like banjos. If I ever learn to play another instrument it will be either the bagpipes or the banjo. (Mona read that, gave me a funny look and said "Who are you? What did you do with my husband?" I maintain that it's true and that I like both instruments.)

5. While I love to SCUBA dive, I don't much care for boats or beaches. Boats to me are just things that get me to dive sites and I don't trust them much. And I've been on paddle boats, pontoon boats (my least favorite), speed boats, sail boats (a nine day Bahamas dive trip), various dive boats and one cruise ship. I am always nervous on big water and getting out of the boat scares me a little, but I feel better in the water than I do on it.

6. Mona says this is a "quirk" so I am going with it. But I think it's really a philosophy. I believe that people should drive like they're late for the birth of their first child. I believe in the fighter pilots credo "Speed is life". If you're scared when you're driving then you shouldn't drive. The brake pedal causes way more accidents than the gas. If you can't go fast then don't bother going. You should be willing to take a life if it means shaving 2 minutes off your best time to any destination. And stay the hell out of the left lane unless you're going faster than everyone to your right. There's more, but I don't want to put too fine a point on it.

So there you go.

If you decide you're tagged let me know so I can stop by and see what you have to say.

Also, as a side note, my practical final for my health assessment class was a 96 out of 100. That will also be my final grade. I can live with a solid A.

Hallelujah, holy crap!

2009-01-15T14:24:00.003-05:00

First an update on school. I took my final in Health Assessment this morning. That's right, my final. A 15 week, two credit course was compressed into ten days. I scored a 49 out of 54 and I have two bonus points coming so my adjusted score is 51 out of 54. I bombed one quiz, but they drop the lowest score and the rest of them were perfect scores. So I lost a total of 5 points out of a possible 204 which gives me an A for the written potion of the course.

I take the practical exam tomorrow. My brother and his wife are coming over tonight so that I can practice what I need to do. She's a physician, so she can look at the sheet that I'm being evaluated on and make sure I hit everything. In reality, I would really have to screw the thing up to fail it. So I should be good.

In related news, we got our clinical assignments today. Two weeks from today I'll be in the hospital with actual patients.

It looks like the first five weeks is going to be on a day shift, Thursday and Friday about 25 miles from home. Someone told me we'll be on an Oncology unit, which I'm not really looking forward to. Since it's the first clinicals all we'll be doing is changing sheets, giving baths and being what my sister in law calls Scut Bunnies. And if there is one thing I am sure of, it's that an Oncology unit has plenty of soiled linen and vomiting people. Great.

The second clinical rotation is psych. This one is about 25 miles in the other direction, also Thursday and Friday, but is an afternoon shift, 3PM to 11 AM. So that means we get to feed the whackos and put them to bed. Sounds like fun. In reality it shouldn't be too bad. From what I can tell the place is a private facility with fewer than 50 resident patients.

And finally some news. I may have mentioned in that past that I am Macedonian. 100%, purple ribbon bred. My ancestors are from present day Albania and Greece. The language is basically a Slavic language, totally unrelated to Greek, which is Hellenic. But that's not important right now. All that you really need to know is that my heritage is fully (and recently too, we got here in the 1920's and 30's) European. I'm white and I'm male. And today, guess what that meant? It meant I am a minority. In nursing. Most nurses are white women, so anyone who's not a white woman is a minority in the field.

So what? you might ask. I'll tell you so what. At my orientation for the program last November the program director told us about a scholarship being offered by a large philanthropic organization that you often hear about if you listen to NPR. This foundation had given my school a lump of money to use as scholarships for minority students. In order to qualify for the scholarship you had to be something other than a white female, have a 3.5 GPA or higher and be willing to act as a mentor for future students in the accelerated nursing program. In order to win the scholarship you had to submit a 1 page, double spaced, 12pt. ariel font "paper" about why you chose nursing. The seven best papers would be awarded scholarships.

Somewhere I have a copy of what I wrote, but I don't know exactly what I said anymore. I wrote it the day before it was due, sent it to a couple of people who helped me to edit it, and turned it in the next day. My reasons were mostly BS and basically said I wanted to achieve self actualization through altruism and had been inspired by my mom (who was a nurse) and other nurses who cared for her and some other family members. The stuff that I wrote was true, but my real reasons were about job security, opportunity and financial gain.

After I got my clinical assignments the instructor had some envelopes for people and started calling names and passing them out. I saw pretty quickly that it was the "minority" students who were being called. Naturally I was one of the last to get an envelope. I took a quick look, and the first word was Congratulations!

So it turns out that I got a $10,000 scholarship (that's right $10K) for being a minority student. And we were told that it's not really a scholarship, they're just going to write me a check, so it's more like a grant. All I have to do is provide a letter of acceptance and a letter agreeing to be a mentor and I'm in the money.

I'm pretty sure that this is the first and last time I'll ever be a minority anything, but you have no idea how much this is going to help.

I talked to Mona and we have to decide how to allocate the funds, but man what a great problem to have. We need to figure out if there are any tax implications first. Then we'll decide if we just use the money to pay for daycare for pretty much the rest of the year or just pay the last semester's tuition pretty much flat out, or pay off her car loan and have that extra cash every month. If we hold it for a while I think we'll stick it in a CD in order to get as much out of it as we can.

And that's why I called this post Hallelujah, holy crap!

And Now A Word From Our Sponsor

2009-01-09T15:37:00.003-05:00

Before we begin I'd like to provide another update. I've taken my midterm exam (the course is a 15 week course compressed into 10 days) and my grade was 48 out of 50, or 96%. I hope the rest of school goes this well.

And now on to the days exercise.

I got this from my friend Kathleen. It's a game called “Brought to you by the letter…”. Here’s how it works…You leave a comment on this post, and I’ll assign you a letter. You write about ten things you love that begin with your assigned letter, and post it at your place. When people comment on your list, you give them a letter, and the chain continues on and on.

I have been given the letter H. It took some thought, but here goes.

Brought to you by the letter H.

Home. It really is where the heart is. When I used to travel all the time (120 or so nights a year on the road) I used to take vacations and not go anywhere. I'd stay in the house for days at a time and wouldn't even open the doors. And it was great. The comfort and security of being in your own place is something that one should never take for granted. Now with Mona and The Peanut and the dogs and the auxiliary dog (the cat) it's more than just my fortress of solitude, but that's plenty fine by me. I still get my quiet time during the day but I wouldn't want the place if it wasn't what it is n0w.

Hawaii. I've been there twice now for a total of nearly three weeks. I've been to Oahu, Maui and Kauai. Hands down I like Kauai the best. The scenery is nothing short of incredible. The canyons in the center of the island seem totally out of place, like part of Arizona somehow ended up surrounded by a jungle rain forest in the middle of the Pacific ocean. There are waterfalls all over the place, the beaches are great and the place is very quite and laid back. Not "touristy" at all. And the diving was pretty great too.

Heroes. On NBC. The first half of this season was a little weak, but it got better at the end. From what I read it looks like they've got one of the original writers or creators back on staff as a story consultant and they'll be getting back to form now that the new year is upon us.

Henry Ford's mansion. This is the place where Mona and I had our wedding reception. It was actually less expensive than pretty much all the halls we looked at and the food was fantastic. Seriously, best appetizers ever. We still talk about crashing weddings there just to get some appetizers.

Hardware and home improvement stores. These are places of possibility. In these stores I feel like I could build or do anything. I'm fully certain that if you dropped me off on the surface of the moon with nothing by my bare hands and the Lowes down the street I'd have a lunar hotel built a short time later. I'd be cooler than Martin Landau (bonus points if you get the reference, double bonus points if you don't google it). The stuff they have is just so freaking cool. Plumbing supplies and all the cool fittings, obscure little doodads, billions and billions of screws, nuts, bolts, nails, staples and every other kind of fastener. Miles of duct tape. And oh my lord the tools. So many tools. And tool related accessories. Saws. Drills. Hammers. Air Tools. Hammers. Levels. Big, giant, NASCAR garage size tool boxes that come with refridgerators, WiFi, and flat screen TVs! And those really super cool leather tool belts. Seriously, how cool would I look in one of those? Mona won't let me get one though. I think it's because of what it would do to my sex appeal. I'd never get anything done if I suddenly became totally irresistible to her. And whenever I went outside I'd end up having to use the hose on all the neighbor ladies, then their husbands would all be pissed and I would have to get them their own tool belts, which would be the start of a huge chain reaction leading to the complete collapse of civilization! Wow. I guess it's a good thing she won't let me have a tool belt after all.

Holodecks. Sure, I realize the Holodeck isn't real, but I want one. So does every other red blooded American man. Scott Adams, the guy who writes Dilbert, once said that if the Holodeck ever does come to be that the world really will end. I fully concur. But I am completely willing for that to happen if it means I can spend the rest of my life in a state of bliss while teams of highly intelligent nymphomaniac cheerleaders work hard every day figuring out new ways to be nice to me. Totally worth it.

Helmets. You might think that I'm reaching now, just trying to find words that begin with the letter H, but you'd be wrong. Very wrong. Helmets are the epitome of cool. If your job requires a helmet you my friend, are totally awesome. Who wears helmets to work? How about fighter pilots. Top Gun would not have been nearly as awesome if the actors flew the planes in those LPGA visor thingies. Storm Troopers. I would totally be a Storm Trooper. Medevac Nurses, which is why I want that job. Firemen. Soldiers and Marines. Hockey players. Knights. CHiPs. Face it, helmets = cool.

Hershey's Kisses. Specifically the ones that are caramel filled. Man are those good or what?

Higher Education. School just flat out rocks. College was and is so much better than working. I swear if I had just piles of money I might just spend the rest of my life taking classes and accumulating degrees. I love to learn stuff. I like to teach stuff. I like to hang out with people who are smarter than me (not that it's a problem finding them, but a lot of times they're conveniently clustered on college campuses).

History. The past fascinates me. The people, the places. I love to imagine myself in those situations, living from day to day. What would it have been like? What would I have thought? Who would I have been? And then realize how much living in the old west, or sailing in the Royal Navy in the early 1800's or fighting in either of the world wars would have sucked because (besides the whole war thing) there was no real medicine, toilets were out back blizzard or no blizzard, and every little thing that I do by pushing a button (microwaving food), turning a knob (for water) or flipping a switch (lighting a room) would require sometimes hard manual labor or at the very least extra time and work. But I like to read about those tough, tough people who did it way back when.

So those are my 10. Care to play?

So far, so good

2009-01-08T16:37:00.002-05:00

I think that's the punchline of a joke about the guy who jumps off the top of the Empire State Building. About halfway down he passes a window washer who asks "How's it going?". The jumper says "So far, so good".

Anyway, 4 days of school, 3 quizzes later and I have 3 perfect scores.

The class is called health assessment, and it's just the basics- listening to hearts, taking blood pressure, deciding more or less what someone's physical state is right then. It's not really about doing anything to make them better if they're ill. The idea is that as a nurse I might ask "How are you?" and then check to see if what you say really jives with what your measurable physical state is. I have no idea what to do with that information once I have it.

The instructors are pretty good and are good lecturers. Most of them seem to have ER backgrounds and the way they talk reminds me of the way my Mom and her friends used to talk. In a way I find it comforting. They don't put up with BS, they're serious about what they do and best of all they're very willing to answer any questions we have and demonstrate the skills as many times as we ask. And in my opinion you can't ask for anything else.

One of the lectures was delivered by a grad student yesterday and I could tell she was really out of her comfort zone. She was hard to hear, had trouble going through the lecture and really botched a lot of basic terminology.

The day before when we were in lab with her she was talking with a small group of us and telling us to be confident when we walk into the room with a patient for the first time. And the next day she's in front of us and her instructors and the wheels come off. I felt kind of bad for her and really wanted to take her aside and talk with her.

I would have told her that she did fine, and that she should try to keep in mind that she's up in front of a friendly group of people who want to be here. I would also have reminded her that she's the expert and because she's already a nurse she knows more than we do so there's not much to be nervous about. I might also have suggested a Dale Carnegie course (I took one, it was great) to help her polish her speaking skills.

I realized that even though I've done some teaching and delivered talks to post-doctoral students at places like Harvard, NYU and the University of Michigan (and many others) as a student in her class it might be presumptuous.

So I just quietly told her she did a good job. I think the faculty had a talk with her about her lecture, and might have made some stronger points because she was a little more careful about her terminology this morning. I hope they weren't too hard on her.

Also it turns out that class is from 8 AM to noon, so I have a fair amount of time to do my studying for the next day. Which also turns out to be less than I expected.

I know it will get busier, but right now it's going well.

The cohort has 37 people in it, so we're down about 11 from the people who showed up at orientation. We were supposed to have 38 in this class but one guy pushed back to the next program because his current employer agreed to pay his tuition if he stayed at work for 5 more months. Hell, I would have taken that deal. I'm enrolled in a Jesuit university and tuition ain't cheap.

The people in the class seem like a good mix, lots of younger students, some 22 and just graduated with their bachelors and some like me going back to change careers. I am at the older end of the spectrum to be sure, but I am not the oldest.

We practice the day's lab skills on one another so I've met a fair number of people, and they've met me. The instructors are pleased with us, saying that so far they don't seem to have any "whacko's". It seems that in most classes there is one student who really shouldn't be there at isolates himself or herself from everyone else and ends up as something of a pariah. I just hope that doesn't end up being me.

The midterm is tomorrow, the written final is Thursday and the practical exam is Friday. I'm looking to start off the program with an A.

The Big Day

2009-01-04T22:25:00.002-05:00

This is it. The day is at hand.

At 8 AM tomorrow (or today, if you're reading this when I expect you to) I'll be in my first Nursing class. It's all about health assessment.

I've read the first 3 assigned chapters already. It's all about how to give a basic physical. Or at least begin one. The reading only covered doing the interview (something that I feel I've done a lot as a salesperson), being aware of and sensitive to who your patient is (again, something every salesrep should do) and how to look at the skin for problems.

The class is 2 credits. It runs 5 days a week from 8 AM to 3 PM for 2 weeks. That's it. Then another class for a week and then 4 other classes for the following ten weeks. And then a full month off. That's right, a month. From April 18th to May 18th. Which is nice, so I got that going for me.

I figure I'll be busy, but it's doable. The school wants me to graduate and they have a 90% graduation rate, which tells me that pretty much if you get in the program you're going to make it through. Right?

Anyway, that's all I have for now. We're changing up the morning routine to see what we need to do to get me to school on time.

If the updates get infrequent please remember that it's not for lack of interest. I'll probably be studying.

A Response

2008-12-29T10:00:00.005-05:00

The little rant below is something I wrote but did not send in response to some name calling that got out of hand.

My Dad has a habit of sending lots of political email and spam and he doesn't think before he sends it. Most of the people he sends stuff to have differing opinions and spend most of their time waiting for the grim reaper.

They don't really understand all this new-fangled inter-mail thingy stuff. That's why they feel no shame in hitting "reply to all" when they feel like telling Big Lou what an idiot he is.

And then someone who agrees with Big Lou also replies to all and the next thing you know my inbox starts filling up with crap.

I wanted very badly to send this to Big Lou and a couple of idiots who were flaming each other but then good sense kicked in and I decided to just post it here. This is what I almost said:

OK gang,

Let's talk a little about email etiquette.

Here are some helpful hints that might just put an end to this kind of thing.

Rule 1: Always remember that Email is just like regular mail, only faster, much easier to track and it never, ever, goes away.

Rule 2: In view of rule number 1, never send unsolicited, potentially inflammatory, or pornographic material to anyone. Ever. Leave that to teenagers who don't know any better.

Rule 3: If someone sends you something that violates rule 2 you have several options. You can

A. add them to your blocked sender / spam list and keep their messages out of your inbox permanently,

B. delete whatever they send unread or

C. start what's called a flame war and respond via email. A or B are the best choices. C, again, is the option for teenagers.

Rule 4: If you feel absolutely compelled to choose option C and call the sender a slack-jawed fathead you can do it in one of the following ways:

A. Get in your car, drive to their house, knock on the door and say "You, sir or madam, are a slack-jawed fat head. Good day."

B. Pick up the phone, call the sender and say "You, sir or madam, are a slack-jawed fat head. Good day."

C. Select the "Reply to sender" option on your email and reply TO THE SENDER ONLY, telling him that he's a slack-jawed fat head.

Rule 5: IT IS NEVER, EVER ACCEPTABLE TO SELECT "REPLY TO ALL" AND DRAG PEOPLE WHO ARE NOT INTERESTED INTO AN ARGUMENT FOR SLACK-JAWED FAT HEADS!

Keep these rules in mind and we'll soon realize Rodney King's dream of all getting along.

Good day.

One More Try

2008-12-23T19:00:00.003-05:00

I already posted a favorite fish recipe and didn’t get a single response, but I still haven’t learned my lesson.

Yesterday I got a text from my sister in law telling me that she and a cousin had dcided that in addition to the other food we're taking to Mona's family Christmas that I should also bring this.

This is one that I adapted from a cookbook I found, and so of all the food I’ve ever served has to be the biggest hit. Basically I substituted smoked salmon for poached and shallots for green onion. I think mine has a much fuller flavor. So here goes.

Smoked Salmon Pate’

2 Packages of cream cheese
6-8 Oz smoked salmon
2 to 3 medium shallots
3 Cloves of Garlic
½ cup Fresh Parsley
¼ stick of butter
1 Tsp dried Thyme
½ Tsp salt
½ Tsp coarse ground black pepper

Set cream cheese and butter out to soften.

The rest can be done by hand, but if you’ve got the appliances, I say use ‘em.

In a food processor finely chop the parsley, then peel shallots and garlic and chop until diced. (Warning, too much chopping will liquefy the shallots, so be careful).

Add Cream cheese, butter, parsley, shallots, salt, pepper and Thyme to mixing bowl and mix slow to medium to combine.

Remove any skin and bone from the smoked salmon, cut into one inch cubes and place evenly in the food processor. Chop until fine, again being careful not to do it too much. Too little is OK, the mixer is going to help out in a second.

Fold the salmon into the mixer slowly. Once everything is combined mix on high until smooth and a little fluffy.

Chill for 10 minutes (or more) and serve with water crackers.

For larger amounts use the following ratios of Cream Cheese to Salmon:

3 packs to 12 Oz
4 packs to 16 Oz
5 packs to 20 Oz

Everything else increases by about a third, but do it to taste and trust your judgment.

Try this one at your next get together. I swear it’s a crowd pleaser.

Cold

2008-12-22T14:30:00.002-05:00

It is cold here. I mean really cold. This is the coldest December I can recall. We got to zero last night. That means it was so cold that there was no temperature. It means that when the Mercury hit 2 Fahrenheit that the temperature had actually doubled since the last reading.

I've come up with a new scale for cold.

First we have crisp. Then comes brisk, followed by bracing. Next we have cold, really cold and holy crap. Then we get to where we are now, which is areyoufreakingkiddingme. The last bank sign I saw actually said that.

It's so cold..

(This is the part where you say "How cold is it?)

It's so cold that Brass Monkeys are leaving town by the busload.

It's so cold that dogs are getting stuck to fire hydrants.

This morning when I let the dogs out I found the corpse of an Eskimo that appeared to have been half eaten by a polar bear.

It's so cold there are penguins in my birdbath.

It's so cold Al Gore is changing his PowerPoint slides.

It's so cold that cows are giving Ice Cream.

It's so cold that people are warming their hands on witches hooters and well diggers asses.

The Iditarod is now coming through South East Michigan.

Even the fat guys have stopped wearing shorts.

It's so cold people are drinking cups of liquid Nitrogen to stay warm.

I saw a bird take off, get hit by a strong gust of wind, freeze solid while in flight and explode into a thousand pieces when it hit the ground.

It's so cold the Abominable Snow Man showed up in a warming shelter downtown and now refuses to leave.

There's been some wild talk around here about finding that "F&*@*ing groundhog and water boarding that little furry b@#%*rd until he admits that he's never, ever seen his M@#^&er F$%*(ing shadow and hopes he never does." Let's hope it's just talk.

Last night The Peanut's rubber ducky sank after hitting an ice berg in the bathtub.

The farmers market has been closed. It has been replaced with an open air meat locker.

It's so cold Molasses is wishing it was January.

It's so cold that it's now possible to walk all the way across all 5 Great Lakes. Lake Erie, the shallowest of them, is now one soild block of ice and is not expected to fully thaw until October 2009.

There's more, but I think you get the idea.

Learning the Hard Way

2008-12-20T22:49:00.006-05:00

Sometime in the early summer my neighbors Ed and Debbie put their house up for sale. Debbie had been offered a job on the east coast and they were moving. The real reason for the move was so that they could be closer to their children, both of whom are grown and getting ready to start families.

They were simply fabulous neighbors and we miss the heck out of them.

Because their house was so very nice it sold quickly to another couple with older children. Dan and Stephanie moved here from Tennessee when Stephanie was transferred by her company. Dan has a job that allows him to live anywhere. Their children had remained in the south.

After they settled in a little I went over and introduced myself and chatted for a little while. They were born and raised in the Volunteer State and had never experienced a northern winter.

I told them to buy a snow blower and that they wouldn't regret it. They told me that other people had told them the same thing and that if they waited for the snow it would be too late.

On Friday we got our first real snowstorm of the year. We'd had other snow fall, but not much more than two inches or so. We got around 10 inches of powdery snow in about 8 hours and it was really cold and windy, which lead to blowing and drifting.

Mona and I went to work together and when we got home I went outside to fire up my snow blower and clear the driveway.

Most of the other neighbors were already cleared out. But when I went outside I saw Dan in his back yard. So I figured I'd head over there just to say "Welcome to Michigan." And that's when I learned just how little they know about snow.

When I got to their fence I saw Dan shoveling. But he wasn't using a snow shovel to plow the snow out of the way. Nope. He had a coal shovel and was using it to fill up a wheel barrow! Then he was dumping the snow in his back yard. It was funny and sad at the same time. If I was a southerner I think the expression would be "Well bless his heart!"

I didn't have the heart to tell him "I told you so" or to offer shoveling tips, but I told him that I'd come over with my snow blower and finish up. Stephanie came to the door and we talked for a bit. They were both a little shell shocked. I told them that this was a pretty good snow but that it wasn't a crippler. We'd be fine by today.

We've got another inch or two tonight and more coming on Tuesday. Not much, maybe 4 inches all in all. The upside is we're guaranteed a white Christmas.

I hope Dan and Stephanie go out and get themselves a snow machine. They're good investments if you're over 35 and live anyplace that gets real snow.

My snow blower is freaking awesome. I shoveled for seven years, but after ending up in the E.R. on the morning of my wedding getting shot up with Morphine and ending up stoned on Vicodin and muscle relaxers for the rest of the day because I blew my back out shoveling, Mona let me get this.

I've got the biggest one on the block. I do my house, 2 others neighbors driveways and the sidewalks for 5 houses. I'm pretty sure all the neighbor ladies think "Wow, what a stud- His wife is so lucky!" when they see me skillfully controlling such a powerful machine.

Oh yeah.

The Interview

2008-12-17T21:25:00.005-05:00

I had hoped for some more feedback on the previous post, but since there was praise from the master I'll deal.

As near as I can tell this started with Evil Twins Wife. These questions were submitted by Alex.

1. You have just made a huge career change. What got you interested in nursing?
I don't know if interested is the right word. Nursing kind of fell into place. In late 2006 I could see the handwriting on the wall at my current job. The wireless industry is becoming more and more commoditized and Michigan has had a shrinking economy for a while now. Mona and I knew that I was not in a long term job.

We thought about relocating and me staying in sales. I also started thinking about other fields, since sales can be a tough gig sometimes. A friend who was in hospital administration told me 6 or more years ago that I should go to Nursing school. My Mom used to tell me that if I wanted to quit my job and go to school to become a speech therapist that I could move back home while I was in school. I leaned heavily towards becoming a dentist.

Before this job I was in the dental industry. I spent 5 years calling on 26 of the most prestigious universities in the world, mostly in their Endodontic (root canal) clinics. I got to know some incredibly smart and in some cases famous (one guy is mentioned in Finding Nemo) dentists. And because I was so fascinated by the field I learned a lot. I used to sit in on post-doctoral seminars just for fun. 90% ore more of it was over my head, but what I did pick up helped me to have conversations at a near peer level with a lot of the residents and department chairs.

I have lots of stories about some of the people I met, and I have a great deal of respect for them and what they do. One in particular is Dr. E. He runs a program in another state and I called him when I was considering going to dental school. He and I talked and he gave me some advice an suggestions. Based on my age and family status dental school was possible, but it would be tough.

Nursing just kept bubbling to the surface. Mona and I saw these accelerated 2nd degree programs and she decided one day to see how long it would take to complete a program, pre-req's included. She worked up a schedule of pre-reqs at the local community colleges and did all the leg work.

Once I saw the plan and after we talked it over, nursing seemed like the best return for the investment of time and money. I expect to end up in administration or sales again, but the sales gig would have to be in the medical device or equipment line and the money would need to be big.

If I can get a masters in health care paid for by the hospital I work for then I might do that. A small part of me things a PhD in Nursing might be cool. And I have heard from some people that if I did that I might be able to get a significant break on tuition for The Peanut if she attends someplace I teach at. That would be helpful too, since I've only approved the Ivy schools, MIT or Stanford for her.

Anyway, once Mona and I talked it over, I registered for a couple of classes and a year and half later (seven months behind the initial time table) here I am.

2. Congratulations! You have won the 10 million dollar jackpot in the lotto! What are your plans for the money?

Is $10 Million enough to have some people whacked and not go to jail? If not I would use it to fund my campaign to become Emperor. I would be Emperor Jorge the Terrible, benevolent despot.

Seriously though, $10 million is enough to get some security, but not enough to join the ranks of the uber-rich.

With that money I'd need to do some stuff. First, get The Peanut into one of the schools mentioned above. Second I'd start looking for businesses to get into. Ideally it would be something that I could do more or less for fun that would also turn a profit. The idea of buying a really, really nice boat, hiring a crew and running it as a live aboard SCUBA charter appeals to me. I'd let it more or less run itself and book a trip a few times a year just to go diving.

I'd also have to use about half a million for go nuts money. My dream has always been to own and fly a P-51D Mustang. I'd have one built while I was learning to fly and spend the time I wasn't diving flying around with the Yankee Airforces B-17 doing airshows around the country. I know, I'm a dork. But in this fantasy I'm a dork with $10 Million in the bank. So there.

I've also promised to hire my best friend, Jefe. Jefe's job will be to be my watch. It would be his job to tell me the time whenever I ask. "What time is it Jefe?" "9:58, Jorge." "Good work, Jefe."

3. What is the last white lie that you told? Why did you tell it?
I kind of danced around the question "When did you check out?" that Ajax asked me today. I just couldn't tell him it was pretty much December 1st.

4. Tell us one odd or interesting thing about yourself that not many people know.
This is a difficult question. Sure there are things that not many people know, but darn few of them are interesting. And the interesting things are the things that most people do know about. And I am a collection of oddities, but I've never taken pains to hide them.

How about this. What if I told you I killed a hippie in the mid seventies and got away with it? Not buying it? What, just because I was born in 1970 doesn't make it impossible. OK, fine. You got me. I've never killed a hippie.

OK, maybe this. I have always felt a little out of place. I am kind of an anachronism. I really feel that I would have fit in well with "The Greatest Generation." I really identify with that cultural ethos. I could see myself enjoying old time comedy on the radio; Bob Hope, Jack Benny, Burns and Allen, Abbott & Costello and all the rest. I wouldn't be at all uncomfortable in suit and tie at a baseball game in the spring or fall. And I love to wear hats. With the exception of the war, I love the whole idea of the 40's, back when men were men and women were glad.

Otherwise how many people know I'm a SCUBA instructor? I've been diving in the following bodies of water: Atlantic Ocean, Pacific Ocean, Gulf of Mexico, the Caribbean, Lake Huron, the St. Clair River, the Niagara River (above the Falls, thank you) White Star Quarry, Portage Quarry, the Detroit River (one of the few civilians to do this legally from the US side) Spring Mill Pond (for fresh water jellyfish) a lake who's name I don't recall and one rather large aquarium.

5. What was your worst customer service experience? (This can be a restaurant, store, etc.) What did you do about it?

Oh I don't know. I've had a few and I generally do something about it. The one that still makes me laugh was at a TGI Friday's in Rochester, NY. I went in there for dinner and the place was dead. I was seated and then ignored. Luckily I had a newspaper with me, so I read for 30 minutes. After that I took one of those little plastic stands with the drink special cards in it and tapped it a few times on the brass rail by my table.

When the server showed up I invited him to sit down. Then I told him that since he kept me waiting for a half an hour that I would keep him waiting for half an hour. I gave him the sections of the paper that I was done with and we sat together and read for a while.

He tried to get me to order a couple of times and I just told him that it hadn't been 30 minutes yet. Some of his friends walked by and laughed at him. The manager may or may not have come by. We waited 30 minutes and when we were done I placed my order.

My suspicion is that my food got spit on, but I was ammused and what are you gonna do? I still left him a 20% or so tip.

So that's it. It is supposed to be a chain thing, so just comment "interview me" and I will e-mail you questions for your blog. Please leave your email address if I don't have.

Christmas memories and a new tradition

2008-12-10T22:54:00.005-05:00

I have been planning to write this up and post if for a year now. I am also announcing that this post will be republished every year. You are now participating in the birth of a tradition.

Both of my parents were/are totally nuts. Not usually bad (although Big Lou had a temper and Mom could handle herself in a fight) but funny, and, if you were their kid, often embarrassing to some degree.

Everything I am about to tell you is true. I witnessed it first hand.

In December of 1993 my father, Big Lou, worked for an auto company which has recently requested a line of credit through the government.

One of his friends was given some tickets to the Kenny Rogers Christmas Spectacular which was playing at the Fox Theater in downtown Detroit. Three of those tickets found their way to Big Lou.

So I put the folks in my car and we went downtown to see the show. When we got there it turned out that we had front row seats. Big Lou sat on the left-hand end of the row, then Mom and then me.

The opening act was Shelby Lynne, who, despite having a Sinead O’Conner haircut was pretty cute and very enjoyable.

When the curtains opened up to start the main act the music started and out comes Kenny Rogers. He’s carrying a bunch of tambourines and he starts tossing them into the crowd.

My mother suddenly turned into Arnold Horshack, waving her arms in the air, bouncing half out of her seat and yelling Oooo! Oooo! Kenny (I call him Kenny) sees her, and sensing her desperation tosses Mom a Tambourine and goes on with his opening number.

Then he talks to the crowd a bit and tells the lucky few Tambourinists how and when to provide accompaniment and goes on with the show. He does a song or two and then stops. The house lights come up and Kenny starts to talk again.

He tells the audience how much he likes to watch the crowd as he performs. He can always tell who his fans are when he sees them singing along to every song in his repertoire. And he can also spot people who have been dragged in against their will. “People like this guy” he says, pointing to my Father.

The subsequent conversation went something like this:

Kenny: What’s you name?

Big Lou: Lou!

Kenny: Lou, tell me the truth now, you won’t hurt my feelings. Would you say you’re a big fan and you know all my songs, kind of a fan and you know some of the songs, or not a fan at all?

Big Lou: Kind of a fan.

Kenny: Kind of a fan. OK, Lou. Prove it. I’ll tell you what. For every one of my songs that you can name, I’ll give you $10.

Naturally, Big Lou freezes like a skinny dipping Inuit. Mom and I start trying to feed him answers. “The Gambler, Ruby, Lucile, Coward of the County...”

But we get shushed by Kenny. “No helping” he says.

Big Lou: The Gambler

Kenny: The Gambler. (Sighs and rolls his eyes) Fine. Here you go.

And he tosses Big Lou a ten spot!

But now Big Lou is out of answers and Mom and I are just dying because this is freaking great.

So Kenny say’s “Tell you what Lou. Every time you hear one of my songs you know just raise your hand and I’ll give you $10. But you have to be honest. I trust you.”

Big Lou: OK!

So the band starts up again and here we go with Coward of the County. After the first few bars up goes Big Lou’s hand and Kenny stroll over to the corner of the stage. Without stopping the song he tosses Lou another $10. He does two more songs and the same thing happens. So now Big Lou is up $40 on the free tickets he got.

The band starts up again and within a few notes his hand shoots up. He’s not going to miss any of this free money. Kenny starts singing Happy Birthday and Big Lou gets busted. But we all laugh, a fifth song starts up and bam, another $10 for Lou.

So now Kenny stops to talk again. He says that now is the time in the show where he asks for volunteers from the audience. He says that there are some rules. If you get picked you have to come up and you can’t volunteer anyone else. But he can.

Kenny: Lou, you have $50 of my money. Come on up here.

So up goes Big Lou and Kenny shows him where to stand. Then he asks for more volunteers.

Again, Mom goes into her Ron Palilo routine and again, sensing her need, Kenny points to Mom and up she goes. Ten more people get picked and they all form a line on stage with Big Lou at the far end of stage left and Mom right next to him.

Meanwhile I’m loving every minute of this, it’s a riot.

Now Kenny grabs a stack of what look like 8x10 pieces of poster board and hands one to each of the people on stage. He announces that they’re all going to sing The 12 Days of Christmas. Each person will sing the line on the card while Kenny sings the rest of the lyrics.

The music starts up and Kenny sings “On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me…”

Dads up first and even though he’s really a Baritone he’s always thought he was a Bass. In whatever the opposite of a falsetto is, he croaks out “…a partridge in a pear tree”.

Kenny stops.

The music stops.

Without a word he takes my father by the arm and moves him to the other end of the line, takes the last guys card and gives it to Big Lou and gives Big Lou’s card to the guy on the end. That guy gets moved up to the front to stand next to my Mom.

It’s a good crowd and they’re all laughing like hell and applauding. Big Lou is laughing along too. I’m in there in the front row and I must have been laughing harder than anyone else.

The music starts up again and Kenny sings “On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me…”

Now it’s Mom’s turn. She used to sing in the church choir. She sings “… a partridge in a pear tree.”

Kenny is shocked.

The music stops and he tries to tell her it’s two turtle doves but Mom isn’t having it! She starts arguing with the man on stage in front of a packed house! She knows the words, and it’s a partridge in a pear tree! He finally points to the card in her hand and eventually it sinks in. Vintage Mom. It was absolutely perfect!

The audience is howling and I am sprawled across all three of our seats, laughing hysterically, and hoping that if I do actually die laughing that someone will resuscitate me fast enough to see the rest of the show.

They try it again and this time Mom comes through.

Finally it’s Big Lou’s turn again, the crowd applauds, the song ends and my parents and the other 10 people on stage all shake Kennys hand and return to their seats.

Kenny does a few more songs, Shelby Lynn comes out and they sing a duet and then the show ends.

As we leave the theater people are calling out to my Dad and he’s waving back, loving the attention “yeah, I got $50” he tells people who ask. I just walk along with Mom and Big Lou, smiling and bemused.

That is probably my favorite Christmas memory. If I ever get the chance to meet Kenny Rogers I fully intend to thank him for the great time, the great show and the great memory.

If you live in a place where he puts on a Christmas show, go see it. Even if you don’t end up in the front row I expect you’ll still enjoy it.

Now please, share a fun and funny holiday memory of your own.

Merry Christmas.

News Notes

2008-12-09T14:51:00.002-05:00

This will be a quick one.

Mona did not get the job. We knew going in that she was an underdog, mostly because she just got past her 6 month anniversary. The person who did get hired has been there a few years and had been a supervisor for a time before taking a step down.

When you have an experienced candidate like that it's hard to reasonably promote the newbie, and Mona understands that. But we think that she did a good job with the interview and and got a little more visibility in the department, so we're not too dissapointed.

As soon as she called and told me I pulled Ajax aside and give him my notice. His first question: "Was it something I did?" We had a talk and I told him the whole story and that I knew this was coming for 2 years. And I also told him that I really felt bad about having to quit on him especially. His second question was "Are you still coming to my Christmas party?" How can you not like a guy like that?

Then he told me that he's concerned about how he'll do in the future too. For the last 2 years as a manager he as been at 100% or better in terms of his quotas and targets. This year he's worked harder and is at 78%. Then he told me in confidence that he applied for a recently announced buyout. He knows that Napoloeon dislikes him too (they're opposites in almost every way imaginable) but even so Nappie convinced him to withdraw his application.

But now Ajax is going back to school for a Masters in something that he really likes with an eye on doing something that he's passionate about long term. And I really hope he does it.

He asked me to try and stay focused, get my loose ends tied up and wished me luck.

Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get me.

2008-12-04T09:55:00.004-05:00

You might want to get comfortable, this one turned out a lot longer than I thought it would.

Mona had her interview yesterday and said it went well. She was in there for an hour and twenty minutes, whereas all the other candidates took about 40 minutes. She said both the guys interviewing her said it was a good interview.

She interviews very well, and she has a few techniques that seem to work for getting interviewers to think positively about her. When they ask “Do you have any questions for us?” she always has a couple prepared in advance. Her last question, in my opinion, is sheer genius. She asks “How do you see me fitting into this position?” It makes the interviewer imagine her doing the job and basic etiquette almost demands that they say something positive. And if you leave someone thinking about you in that job, you’re probably ahead of the game. It’s an awesome psychological tactic.

The decision will be made by Monday at the latest. We’re hopeful.

Also, yesterday was Mona’s birthday. We’ve been getting the Hammacher Schlemer catalog for a while now (I have no idea how we go on that mailing list) and she saw something that she really wanted. And when I say wanted what I mean is that she told me in terms that were just this of a demand that she wanted this thing. It’s called a jewelry armoire. It’s basically a wall mounted cabinet about four feet by one and a half feet that lets her hang and organize her jewelry. Of course it’s ridiculously expensive in the catalog, but there are deals if you’re willing to do a little internet browsing.

So I found one that I though she would like, had it shipped to our office and get it home secretly yesterday afternoon. My plan was to leave a little early, go home, and mount the armoire where she told me she wanted it.

I was delayed at the office and further delayed picking up The Peanut from daycare and buying cards and a cake. I was concerned I was going to run out of time, so I called Mona’s boss and asked him if he would do me a favor and delay her for a little while so that I could get everything setup. He held her up an extra 20 minutes and that was all the time I needed.

I got it mounted, cleaned up the mess I made, put my tools away, got rid of the box, changed a stinky diaper, hid the cake, signed the cards, cleaned the glass (the door is mirrored), got the mail, and put some of her jewelry in there just to show it off all before she came home.

She was very pleased and spent some time before we went to dinner moving her jewelry out of her jewelry box and out of some of the various boxes from stores that she has and into the armoire.

So Mona had a pretty good birthday.

Now, onto the bit about paranoia.

I’ve been working in this job since August of 2003. Since sometime in 2004 I have gotten the feeling that my bosses boss, our director, disliked me.

It was never overt, but there was always something of a coldness towards me that I didn’t see him have toward other reps. And then there were the occasional comments from my manager (I’ve had 4 in the last 5 years) that the director (let’s call him Napoleon) had asked about me in ways that made it seem like he wanted to know what I had screwed up lately.

I’d taken him on sales call with me that I felt went well. One in particular stands out in my mind. I had had good conversations with my customers, asked really on the nose questions that got responses like “That’s exactly what my people are asking for!” while he remained silent. After we left he and I talked and I had to explain some of the technology stuff to him, stuff like what a router was for. I also had an engineer with us who was there to gave a very technical presentation. I am very solid with the technology, probably one of the top few in terms of my peers, but I’m not an engineer.

When I got back to the office I asked my boss if Napoleon had given him any feedback. My boss told me that old Boney thought that I should have been able to do the technical stuff instead of bringing out an engineer. Grrrr.

I’ve also been on calls where I’ve taken his boss, an area VP who has authority for all of the company’s business in a third of the US. And I’ve overheard her telling Napoleon that I did a great job on the call (she didn’t know I was listening).

There are other examples of situations where I think I sense his dislike, but who knows, right? Maybe I am just paranoid.

However...

There’s one guy that I work with who knows I am planning to leave. He’s a friend and kind of a mentor and I learn a lot when we talk. He’s also a peer, but he works for a different boss and covers a different type of customer than I do, so we don’t really have a reason to interact on a professional basis. I bumped into him in the hall yesterday and we ducked into a conference room for a few minutes to chat.

We talked about my upcoming resignation, Mona’s interview, and his concerns for our struggling company as well as his plans for the future. We also talked about his wife’s job security as an elementary school principal and his daughters upcoming wedding.

While we were talking Napoleon walked by a couple of times and saw us talking.

Later in the day I had a meeting scheduled with my boss. It’s a standard thing we do here, the bosses sit down and just kind of get updated about what we’re doing and what help we need, if any. It’s called a one on one meeting.

When I sat down with my boss, lets call him Ajax, he told me that he had been chewed out by Napoleon earlier in the day. Ajax had been on customer appointments on Tuesday and then did a bunch of one on one meetings with some of my teammates who work out of our office in Lansing, about 80 miles from here. Yesterday Ajax was working at home while his family was out. He stayed home to get some peace and quiet to while he got caught up from a day on the raod.

Napoleon called and asked him where he was and what he was doing. Then Nappy pointed out that my performance has been subpar in some areas this year and how exactly did I have time to chat with a friend when I should be selling stuff.

Ajax pointed out that he can’t be everywhere at once and that some of Napoleons stats were wrong, but it fell on deaf ears. Then Napoleon told Ajax that if he sees me BS’ing like that again that I’ll be filing for unemployment.

The first question I asked was if it was me who was going to be fired or if it was me and my friend. The answer was it would just be me. In my fantasy world I love to be fired to talking. I’d leave quietly and then calmly drive to my attorney’s office thinking about how much I could get in a wrongful termination suit. But I know that Napoleon is smarter than that. He’d just micromanage me out of the organization by either making me so miserable that I quit or until he’d built a case that was strong enough to allow him to fire me according to policy.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Mona is waiting to hear about her interview I would have just quit on the spot. But now I have to hold out until we know whether or not she gets the job. Her relationship with the company is much more important than mine at this point.

But the whole thing pissed Ajax off. He’s now going to not change my probationary status (it could be advanced further) just to spit in Napoleons eye. I told him that it was OK with me if he needed to sacrifice me in order to make his life easier (Napoleon doesn’t seem to like him much either), but he won’t do that. He’s a good manager and he looks out for his people. If only I could have told him my plans then.

I’m going to quit next week for sure. Based on yesterday’s events I am pretty sure they’re going to decline my two weeks notice and walk me out. I’m thinking about asking Ajax if he wants to put on a show for Nappy, micromanaging me, sending me “serious” emails and hinting at how my job is in jeopardy if I fail to perform. Then at the end of a week or so of that I will just throw up my hands and quit, saying I’ve had enough. I’d do it if it gives Ajax a little break from Napoleon.

What do you think? Should I make that offer or just execute the plan that’s already in place?

And last, do you have any good stories about quitting jobs?

The Final Turn

2008-12-02T17:52:00.003-05:00

Thirteen more working days as of this writing. I really feel like I quit sometime around yesterday morning. December is my last month and the pressure is off. I don't have to hit a quota, I don't have to go looking for more business, I just need to wait until it's time to leave.

I've been buying my textbooks on line. I ordered 11 of the 13 I need for this semester. Care to guess what that cost? Under $400. I was stunned. I had expected to be into four figures. Amazon rocks.

I've received four of them so far. One last week and three more today. They're not doing anything to keep me focused on cell phones. Part of me wants to start reading them like they're new Christmas presents. The less giddy part keeps reminding me that they're textbooks and I'll get enough of reading them come late January. But I'm still excited.

As much as studying can be a pain in the neck, I really like school. I've been generally good at it, it comes pretty easily and it beats the heck out of working.

Based on the schedule they've sent me it looks like this is going to be like a year of summer school with an average of 19 credits. Some of the classes are 10 weeks long, so I expect they'll be cramming a lot of stuff in as fast as they can.

But ultimately I remind myself that nursing is basically a blue collar job and that you don't have to be a genius to get into nursing. Mom was a nurse and I knew a lot of her friends and they were all just regular people. I've been fortunate to work in post doctoral dentistry, so I know what what geniuses look like (seriously, specialists in dentistry like Orhto, Endo and Perio -dontists are the cream of the crop). And the nurses I know, while good, hardworking and caring are really about as smart as most of the non-nurses I know. And that's why I'm confident I can get through it.

In related news, Mona is interviewing for a lead position on her team on Wednesday. The decision is supposed to be made on Friday. I am actually a selling point for her. I'm her conduit to sales. She has insights that no one else in our office has (likewise I have insight into customer care that most reps don't). It gives her an edge.

She had to fight for the interview since she has only been iwht the company for six months, and did sort of a pre-interview with the hiring manager. Her boss told her she wasn;t qualified, but the hiring manager liked what she had to say and added her to the candidate pool. I'm hoping that means something.

For that reason I won't be actually resigning until Monday at the earliest. Right now her relationship with the company is more important than mine.

It sounds like she might have a decent shot at this job, and the bump in pay would come in handy.

But I can see the finish line pretty clearly now, down at the bottom of an ever steeper, ever shorter, smooth, smooth, hill.

Hosed again

2008-11-26T16:59:00.002-05:00

So we have been going back and forth about our Thanksgiving plans.

We were supposed to go to my Mother In Laws house tomorrow but there's some flu going around over there and Mona has canceled. This is the second time we've had a cancelation like this. The first time was Easter two years ago. I managed to get us a last minute invite that time, but this time it looks like we're hosed.

My family does Thanksgiving with all their in-laws and it's too late to weasel an invite to one of those events. My brother is going to his in-laws and that sounds like a nightmare and Mona says they're out.

Next year we're hosting. And I don't care if the house has just burned down, we're not cancelling. As long as the rubble is cool enough to sit on we're doing it.

But for now it looks like no Thanksgiving for us. Mona is OK with staying home but I'm not. A holiday without a lot of family around is just sick and wrong to me.

Shit.

If you need me I'll be over here sulking.

Tick Tock

2008-11-20T22:05:00.002-05:00

Today was a big day.

I had a mandatory 9 to 4 orientation session at the Nursing school that I’ll be going to beginning January 5th.
There wasn’t a lot to it really. It was a few things about requirements, uniforms, books and schedules along with a fair amount of “It’s going to be really, really hard, so be ready.” We also got a 5 minute tour of the lab.

There are around 40 students in the class and counted 7 or 8 guys. That seems pretty strong to me. At least one was leaving an auto company. Since it took me a year of taking pre-requisite classes with a bunch of other people who were going into nursing to get here I figured I would see some familiar faces. There was one, someone that was in my Organic Chemistry class a year ago, but that was it.
I was surprised to see her because she was set to enter this program last May. Apparently she had some medical issues that pushed her back several months. But I was glad to see someone I knew.

The whole thing wrapped up by 12:30 so I had a lot of time to myself. I went and got my student ID and parking permit and 5 school patches that I have to sew onto my scrubs and lab coat. I’m hoping the student ID will get me into movies cheaper now.

Then I went and bought some scrubs and a lab coat. And I got some new shoes, which Mona thinks look like old man shoes (they’re actually Rockports).

Everything I wear has to be white. No color anywhere. And no shirt under the scrubs. I’m going to look like an extra from M*A*S*H. But what the heck, right?

Taking the day off for school really seems to have gotten into my head. I really feel my time with my current employer coming to an end. I can see myself really starting to coast, and I am going to try and fight it. I want to try to go to the finish line if not strong, then at least under my own power. It’s getting harder. Tomorrow is a work day but I am just not feeling it. And with Thanksgiving next week there’s not going to be a lot to do.

I plan on resigning on December 8th with my last day on the 19th. That means 9 working days before I quit and 19 before I turn in my laptop and ID badge.

I still have some mixed emotions. There’s excitement in starting something new, nervousness about completing the program, mild worry about the effect this will all have at home, and a tiny bit of regret over quitting my job.

I expect it’s all pretty common place, but there it is.

I Need Some Advice

2008-11-15T16:23:00.001-05:00

I have been meaning to talk about this for a while.

Every week we have a team meeting with all 10 reps and our boss. We just go over all the stuff that’s going on and sort of make sure we’re all on the same page.

The last item on the agenda is always “Best Practices”. We go around the room and each of the reps comes up with a tip for the week or talks about something that works for them.

As class clown I have to be different.

My boss has required that I come up with something legitimate at every meeting, but I also come up with some bit of weird advice. Most of my jokes are stolen, but I’m running out now.

I’ve used things like:

Never bet you can fit your head inside a glove compartment.
If a bar has human ears nailed to the walls, don’t pass out there.
Never fry bacon without a shirt on.
Never trust a gay fortune teller with the palm of your hand.
Don’t play strip poker in a nursing home.
When drinking never offer to prove that your shoes are fire proof.
Never throw a brick straight up.
Never ask a hitchhiker to babysit.
Never let a bald man borrow your comb.
Don’t get romantically involved with farm equipment.
Never give alcohol to a Monkey.

There’s more but you get the idea.

I’ve only got 3 or 4 more of these meetings left, but I’m running out of material.

So I need some advice. What other kinds of things should one never do nor attempt?

Got Me Covered

2008-11-13T16:34:00.001-05:00

Here are two things you may or may not know about me.

First, I am not a sports fan. I could care less about any college or pro sport. The only football game I watch is the superbowl and then it’s really about the ads. And hanging around with friends who have a lot of food. Oh, I might watch a few minutes of a football or baseball or hockey game from time to time, but that’s really about it.

And I have certainly never planned a day around watching televised sports (with the above exception of the Superbowl).

Second, I am a hat wearer. I love hats. Or pretty much any headwear, really.

I am considering trying to get a job on the medevac helicopter just so I can get the cool helmet.

I even have a rather expensive Stetson Fedora that I wear when I’m dressed up and the weather is bad. And I’m telling you, having a dry mellon and water-free glasses is great.

Now onto the story.

In my last job I traveled extensively and the part that I enjoyed most was working in the dental schools. I covered 26 schools and used to make it a point to buy a School of Dentistry hat from as many of the school stores as I could.

At home I would wear different hats and cycle through some favorites. I have a Harvard hat, Iowa, West Virginia University, University of Louisville, Boston University, University of Kentucky and a few others.

Lately I’ve been wearing the UK hat. I like the way it fits and it’s a jaunty royal blue.

A couple of weeks ago I was at the Kroger formerly known as Farmer Jacks doing my grocery shopping with The Peanut and wearing my UK hat when an elderly gentleman in a suit and car coat walked up, put his hand on my arm and said “school X didn’t have any mercy yesterday, did they?”

My mouth opened and I could feel the blank look on my face as I said “Excuse me?”

“Your hat” he said. “192 Million to 3 in the game yesterday.”

I pulled the hat off, prepared to explain why I was wearing a UK hat. I think he could see that I had a story and wasn’t really a fan. He just wandered off.

I felt really bad. This guy was hoping to find a friend while his wife was checking out the canned goods. And he runs into me, a guy in a hat who could really care less about football. Poor guy.

And every time we passed one another in an aisle I felt bad.

I know that it’s not my fault, nor was it his. But there are times when I feel bad about disappointing perfect strangers.

Why do you suppose that is?

Now hit me with your stories.

The Anatomy of an Accident

2008-11-11T21:35:00.001-05:00

I’ve been meaning to get something out about this for a while now.

A week or so ago Mona and I were driving to work with The Peanut strapped into what I call her “space monkey chair” in the back seat, and we had the chance to see something from start to finish that you don’t usually get to see.

We saw an accident.

Sure, drive long enough and you’re bound to see a few, and maybe even be an unwilling participant in one. That’s not what I mean.

We were driving along and I had just moved over to pass a delivery truck on the right. In front of that truck was another truck, kind of like a bread truck.

There was a car about 50’ in front of them and another 50’ in front of that one.

As I got near the bread truck I looked forward and could see what was about to happen.

The car in the lead was headed into an intersection where other cars were stopped for a red light. But the leader wasn’t stopping. I could see that he was going to need to brake very hard in the next two seconds or hit the guy at the back of the line.

And the second car didn’t seem to notice this. Nor did the bread truck. The guy in the other truck couldn’t see any of this obviously. And by now I’m sure you can see where this is headed.

Car number one braked hard. Car number 2 locked his breaks and the bread truck did as well. The guy in the second car may have seen the bread truck lock ‘em up, he had some space ahead and got off his brakes which kept him out of the wreck that was about to happen.

I think I must have slowed down watching this all because now we were just behind the bread truck.

I saw the second truck rear end the bread truck. He just didn’t have enough time to stop.

The bread truck started to swerve into my lane and I moved toward the curb, yelling “whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa!”. Mona was silent watching out my window with one hand on her armrest and the other on the dashboard.

The bread truck missed us, or we missed him, and then for us it was over. We left the wreck and a lot of stopped traffic behind us.

The interesting part of the whole thing was that I could see when the first car was charging at the stopped traffic ahead that he was going to have a problem. The thing that got me was that the guy in car 2 missed it as did the guy in the bread truck.

If those two guys had been paying attention they could have easily slowed down and not caused the wreck.

It really took all 3 drivers not watching the road to cause this accident.

I still find it fascinating that I was in the right place to see the entire cause and effect chain of events. Normally you get that with the instant replay when you’re watching NASCAR.

Have you ever seen something kind of event like that unfold from start to finish?

To the President Elect

2008-11-04T17:16:00.002-05:00

I'm posting this before I see any of the returns and before I head to the polls to do my civic duty.

Dear Sir,

I wish you the best of luck in your presidency. I hope your service is long and healthy and may your legacy be one of peace, prosperity and success.

Sincerely-

Jorge

The Halloween Report

2008-11-01T10:06:00.003-04:00

And in keeping with my recent pledge-

We dressed The Peanut up in her little bumblebee outfit last night and I figured we'd go over to 3 or 4 neighbors and that would be all the Trick or Treating she'd stand for. She's not quite 2 1/2 yet.

Man was I wrong. We did the neighbors we're close to and then she wanted to go to more houses. She pulled me along and carried her own little bag. She knocked on doors, held out her little bag and said "Trick or Treat" and said "Thank you and Happy Halloween" every time I reminded her too.

She even walked up to a woman who was herding her own little ghouls and goblins and held out her bag. The lady thought it was funny and gave her a piece of candy.

I was chuckling the whole time.

She walked 2 blocks- both sides of the street. If I hadn't called a halt she would have kept right on going. I was really impressed. She was really into getting stuff. She had no idea what she was getting, but man it was fun! her little bag got so full I had to fill my pockets so she could keep carrying it.

We got back to the house and she knelt down on the front walk and sorted through the candy. She kept taking it out piece by piece and asking "What's this?" Me: "A Kit Kat" Her: What's this?" Me: "A Snickers" and on and on.

Then we put it all back and called it a night.

Our turnout was pretty low, so I still have a ton of candy left. For the last several days I've pretty much only eaten Halloween candy and cheese. I expect it to catch up to me any second now.

I was really surprised at how much I enjoyed taking her trick or treating. Halloween has long been my favorite holiday. I didn't think I could get more out of it, but walking around with my little peanut dressed as a honey bee, holding my finger with her whole hand was one of the best experiences of my life. Really. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed it.

My anti-Halloween is Christmas. I am fully in the Scrooge/Grinch camp. I've always found the holiday stressful and unpleasant. But now that I've seen The Peanut enjoy a Lite holiday like Halloween I'm almost looking forward to watching her get into Christmas. And it's freaking me out a little.

What's happening to me?

A Time for Every Purpose Under Heaven

2008-11-01T09:56:00.002-04:00

You may be getting tired of my poitical ravings.

To tell the truth, so am I.

Normally I don't expound on politics unless I'm in a room a) by myslef, b) talking with someone I know agrees with me, like my brother, or c) suffering from a head injury.

This election has brought out the worst in me.

So I now hereby undertake to not offer any political or economic opinions for at least the next four years unless there's something to big to ingnore, like Watergate, Iran-Contra or the Lewinski mess.

No matter who wins, America will be just fine in the long run.

And now back to the usual trivia.

Time to put on My Pseudo-Intellectual Hat

2008-10-30T16:32:00.002-04:00

First of all, full disclosure and a disclaimer.

When I leave my job in December money will be tight enough for us to qualify for food stamps. Under the Obama tax plan (should it go through in time to be used for 2009 Tax Returns) my family would probably benefit directly.

What I’m about to say is meant to be a philosophical argument. Ultimately taxation is not really theft, and the fact that one chooses to live someplace with a representative government where taxes are levied and collected does imply consent to be taxed.

But here’s the thing.

Taking something that I haven't earned is stealing.

Taking something that someone else took from somebody who earned it is receiving stolen goods.

The tax plan that the blue states are voting for will result in, according to a report on NPR this afternoon, a "direct payment" to roughly the bottom third of tax filers (people who right now get pay no tax and get full refunds at the end of the year). That's right, 30 to 40% of people who file tax returns pay no income tax at all.

The "refundable tax credit" means they (and probably I) get a check that contains more than what was withheld in taxes. Sure I can use the money, but taking it is wrong.

That extra money came from someone who might not have been willing to give it up. Someone who spent roughly 2 1/2 hours a day, every day, working to do nothing more than hand those wages over to me.

That's the problem I have. To me, this tax plan looks like the government is brokering stolen goods.

Also at the core of the argument for me is the question “Why should I work hard if I’m not going to be any better off than I am now?”

After all, what's easier (and for that matter which do you value more)- working hard and earning an extra three, four or five thousand dollars or just having faceless donor write you a check?

That ends the philosophical portion of today’s discussion.

Just Exactly How Freakin' Small is the World, Anyway?

2008-10-28T14:01:00.002-04:00

I have an interesting story, but first you’ll need some background.

My brother Juan has a best friend I’ll call Pepe. They’ve been best friends since first grade. Both Juan and Pepe know each others families and extended families quite well. In Juan’s case he even knows some of Pepe’s relatives who live in England and Australia. I’ve met some of them as well.

And now the story.

Last night I went to the airport to pick up Juan and his wife, Juanita. They were returning from their 2 week Mediterranean cruise honeymoon. They started out in Turkey, cruised to some Greek islands, then Egypt, more islands, and ended up on the Greek mainland.

During one of their last days in Athens they were walking around in some sort of plaza that Juan describes as kind of a giant flea market when he saw a guy who looked familiar. So my brother went up to him and called him a dirty name. The guy looked at Juan, paused long enough for Juan to worry that he had just called the wrong guy a dirty name and was going to get punched in the mouth, and said “What the f*&k are you doing here, mate?

Yep. It was one of Pepe’s cousins from Australia. In freaking Athens. How in the hell is it possible for 2 people from 2 different continents who happen to know one another to bump into each other on a 3rd entirely separate continent?

Now you many know Juan and you might know that he is a congenital liar. But this time he has photographic evidence. I saw the picture (still in the camera and unedited) of him and Pepe’s cousin standing around in Greece! He’s got indisputable proof.

I keep hearing that there are something like 5 or 6 billion people on this planet. If that was true a coincidence like this should not be possible. I’m going to need some proof that there are that many people. Otherwise there’s got to be something going on.

Anyone out there good at figuring out probabilities? Juan is from Michigan. Pepe’s cousin is Australian. They met up in Greece with no planning or forethought. It was entirely coincidental. Seriously, what’s the statistical probability of that happening?

Lots of Little Things

2008-10-26T09:24:00.001-04:00

I have a few things today.

First.

We took The Peanut to swim class yesterday. She asks about it regularly during the week and wants to go. Since it’s a parent and tot class I get in with her and she asks about games that we’ll play. One she asks for is called “Bouncy Bouncy”. Basically I bounce up and down while holding her and moving in a circle with the other parents in front of the water slide while saying “bouncy bouncy”. When we get in front of the slide I put her on the last two or three feet and pull her to me.

The thing that gets me is when we get there after being asked about it for a while she says she doesn’t want a turn on the slide. She got one anyway, and enjoyed it, but there was definitely some nervous anticipation there.

I really, really want her to be good in the water. He mother is afraid of anything deeper than a bath tub. I fear big water (the Great Lakes, seas and oceans) just enough to keep from doing anything stupid. But I’m very, very at home in the water. I’m not Michael Phelps, but it’s just because I’m shorter, fatter and lacking in his natural talent and drive. But I bet I’m just as comfortable in the pool. I want that level of comfort for The Peanut. Ultimately I want her to be my dive buddy and take her (and her potential sibling, or siblings if Mona has her way) on SCUBA trips. My biggest fear is that my desire for it will turn her off completely.

How do you balance that?

Second.

My boss has had some family issues lately and has been somewhat absent from the office. He’s told me what they are and I fully understand and support his decision. I think I’m turning into his wise older guy employee who can help him with what I’ll call for lack of a better word and with honest humility, my “wisdom”. Truthfully if I can give him the benefit of my experience then I’m glad.

But lately he’s also leaning on me to fill in for him when he’s out. Again not something I mind doing. I don’t want his job but I am a team player and if I can help him out I’m glad to do it.

The problem I have is this- I only have 38 more working days left at this job. The more he comes to lean on me the worse I fear having to quit. I know he’ll be fine and so will the company and my customers. I have no illusions about being indispensible. It’s just that the thought of letting this guy down really bothers me. Which is also a very new experience. I think I need a hug.

Third.

We’ve taken The Peanut to a couple of Halloween events this year. One at Greenfield Village (which I really liked) and one at the Detroit Zoo. We put her in a little bumblebee outfit which is very cute but she doesn’t really seem to dig the whole Halloween thing yet. Mostly she just rides along in her stroller and gets tired and cranky by about 7:30.

I’m sure it will be better next year. Halloween is my favorite holiday, followed by the Fourth of July. If only there was a way to incorporate explosives into Halloween it would be perfect. Costumes, free candy, anonymous giving and guilt free taking. What could possibly be better?

Fourth.

I just recently figured out how to explain my views on taxation and the concept of “fairness”. I think it’s only right that I get to keep what I earn. And that other people should get to keep what they earn. I don’t believe I have a right to the fruits of the labor of anyone who isn’t me.

So let’s look at it this way. Imagine life is a classroom. A few people who are really smart or very driven to study get A’s. A few more people get B’s and the largest chunk of students get C’s. D’s should occur about as often as B’s and F’s, Incompletes and Drops should about equal the number of A’s.

I tend to get A’s. If the Dean came down to a class I was in and told everyone with a C or below that he would be giving them some extra points to bring up their grades by taking a few points from the A and B students I would be furious. And if you added up all those points taken away and redistributed you would find that they aren’t really enough to change the grades of the people who got them in the first place. So now we end up with a system where no one is better off. How is that a good idea?

In order to go further with this example we’d have to start a very long discussion about the nature of money and wealth. My view is that it is unlike matter and energy in that it can be created where it had not previously existed. Therefore wealth has, or can be, infinite, whereas matter cannot. And if the amount of wealth is potentially unlimited we can’t punish the very rich for having a lot of it. They can’t really have more of infinity. And their share of infinity does not restrict me from getting the largest share possible. Does that make sense?

Last.

I have more stuff, but the dogs are wrestling, The Peanut is getting up and I really ought to get Mona up before the whole day is gone.

Hasta la bye bye, for now.

Let me tell you how I really feel...

2008-10-20T18:15:00.001-04:00

Originally what follows was meant to be a comment on Alex’s blog. But it kind kept growing and I just couldn’t bring myself to post this as a comment.

She was talking about some instructors at her university who were, in effect, offering bribes for good evaluations. She then asked if anyone had any experience with such a thing.

Here’s my answer, along with some stories about my own college experiences.

How does one go about offering a bribe in exchange for a good evaluation?

Ultimately an instructor offering a bribe suggests one of two things to me. Either the instructor is a complete idiot, realizes it, and hopes to keep the students from spreading it around "officially" or he or she just really insecure and mildly paranoid.

Either way I don't believe I would accept a bribe, but it may lead me to go a little easy on them out of pity. Unless it was done in a way that I felt was offensive, in which case I'd have no problems crushing them.

I have no experience with any sort of academic in all of the classes I've taken.

The last few evaluations I've done have been at a community college where I was taking some pre-reqs for the program I'm starting in January.

Both times the instructors conducted a full class and with 5 minutes or so left announced that they were passing out evaluations.

They asked for a volunteer to collect them and handed that person a manila envelope to seal after they were collected.

Then the instructors left the room and we were free to evaluate away.

All in all I there two things I think about evaluations. One is that they seldom ask the right questions and two is that they are never handed out by the instructors who need to be evaluated.

Both of these stories are true and unembellished.

There's only been two times when I wished that I could fill out an evaluation, The first was for a Humanities class. The instructor was a total idiot and really should have retired.

The tests were all true and false and the instructor was fond of telling us that he didn't even know how to write a trick question. And to a certain extent he was telling the truth. But here's an example. He referenced one of his lectures and referred to a photo of a kid being handed a horn to play in a marching band. The image was not on the test, you had to go from memory.

The question was: The boy in the picture was going to play trumpet in the marching band. True or False?

Now I spent several years in marching band and played in college for a while too. I remembered that picture and recalled noticing that the horn was a coronet.

So I asked if he was making a distinction between a trumpet and a coronet and he said yes, of course, they're two very different instruments.

I knew from years and years of playing that in a whole lot of bands coronets and trumpets play from the same music. In the same key. With the exact same fingerings. And if you can play one you can play the other with no changes in proficiency. It's like switching from an electric guitar to an acoustic guitar. The sound might be a little different (barely) but the guy who's playing it won't do a single thing differently.

No trick questions my ass. All his tests were like that. I would have evaluated the crap outta him.

I was so pissed when I walked out of that final that I told my parents if I got less than a B in that class I was going to the Dean.

The second was in a psych class. The instructor there liked to rant about stuff.

One day he came in griping about “kids today” and asked if anyone could tell him why it was that students today didn’t take their academic careers seriously.

And the idiots in my class who had apparently never been yelled at by an annoyed parent tried to answer! One kid said something like “Ummm… peer pressure?” Which of course only led to more ranting.

After about 5 minutes I finally got tired of it an raised my hand. I was a senior at this point and pretty salty. When he called on me I said “Why don’t you tell us? Surely this isn’t a phenomenon that began with people born after 1970!”

He came down the aisle, glowering all the way, stood next to my desk and told me “The only reason I’m standing here today is because I had a 3.X as an undergrad and a 4.0 in my post grad program!”

I replied “That’s great. I have a 3.8 in a business curriculum and I’m being recruited by Fortune 500 companies like Dow Chemical!”.

(OK, so I lied a little there. The truth is that I had done a ride along with a Dow rep a few months earlier as part of a class project.)

But that was enough to stop the rant and get on with the class, which was my goal.

After that I was just irritated by the guy. And if I had been able to evaluate him I would have had some things to say. None of them would have been complimentary.

The last time I checked ratemyprofessor.com that nut was still teaching.

This is one of the reasons that I rather dislike the whole idea of tenure. When accountability is removed wisdom often succumbs to hubris.

Any thoughts?

Never a Dull Moment

2008-10-14T17:47:00.006-04:00

I have a sore throat. Yesterday I had a fever to go along with it, but that seems to have passed. Mona wasn’t well either.

We decided to hit the sack at about 9 PM. After some tossing, a few drinks of water to wet the sore throat and then some turning we drifted off somewhere around 10.

At 2:30 it all went to hell.

Mona and I were awakened by lots of sirens in the back yard. I thought it was the bank alarm.

Mona looked out the back window while I looked out front. Police cruisers were whipping down the street and stopping 3 or 4 doors up. Then a couple of cops came running by. Then another.

All the time- Sirens.

Mona said someone ran through the neighbor’s yard to the north.

I turned on the exterior lights and heard the police yelling. The only word I heard clearly was a compound word that started with mother.

I decided to stay inside and wait until it was light to see what had happened.

After about 45 minutes or so it was all over. Mona went back to sleep but I couldn’t. So I watched TV until it was time to get going for the day.

Once it was light out I went out and reconstructed the crime scene. Below is a satellite picture of my house (with the little A). The top of the photo is North.

It looked like the Police chased someone who tried to turn into the eastbound side street. He didn’t make it. Judging by the oil streaks and bits of engine left this morning he hit the northeast curb at a 45 degree angle, curved a bit, went over the first parking island and came to a complete stop when he hit the southwest corner of my fence. He bent the chain link post and crushed one of the 4x4 posts on the privacy fence. Then a little further north the privacy fence was broken in a bit, I’m guessing from being climbed over.

In the back yard our one remaining garden bed had the copper tubing that the tomatoes climb up crushed, probably from being landed on. Our back gate was left open.

I have some estimators coming out to look at the fence and the insurance company has been notified.

I know that people have come over the fence after robbing the bank, but this is the first crash. Interstingly enough, I've talked with the neighbors in both houses south of me and they both missed the whole thing. Both have dogs who also missed it. It's a good thing I have Mona, a damaged fence and a police report to prove I was telling the truth.

This is my second experience with a police chase. My first was riding along with a friend who is a cop.

How about you?

I think I need a hug.

2008-10-10T00:26:00.003-04:00

We’re doomed. I wish it weren’t so, but I’m afraid that it’s no longer possible to pretend otherwise. I have always operated under the cynical premise "People are stupd." Today I learned just how stupid they are.

Mona and I were watching some TV after we put The Peanut to bed when the phone rang. It was a new kind of political phone call. I was conferenced in to a “Town Hall” call with a local congressman and a bunch of my fellow citizens in the district.

Normally I don’t go for such things, but it seemed like a neat idea so I decided to give it a listen. I was told at the beginning of the call that I’d be given the opportunity to ask the congressman a question if I chose.

Now I’ll tell you, this is a guy I’d voted against. Repeatedly. I figured I’d listen for an opening and pounce on him like a starving Cheetah on a ham sandwhich.

Then I started listening to the questions that were coming in. Holy crap. The best of the bunch was clueless and the worst was barely coherent. I heard one guy who was unemployed ask about the cost of his medical care. The congressman suggested he look into COBRA. The question was worthless and the answer showed just how disconnected the congressman was. He’s obviously never seen what COBRA costs.

The next guy, another auto worker, this time retired, rambled about foreign companies coming over here and buying our infrastructure and golf courses with the money they make by not paying their labor what we do. He wanted to know why all foreign imports weren’t considered luxuries and subject to luxury tax. Seriously? The answer is apparently socialized medicine. That will make us more competitive. Riiiiight.

The next guy, also unemployed, was concerned that the second extension of his unemployment was about to run out and was there any way they could come up with another extension in the next week or two instead of waiting for the next session of congress.

And this is when I finally understood that we’re doomed. I hung up because in a flash of clarity I knew that no matter how clever or well constructed my argument was it was highly unlikely that my fellow citizens would understand it. Cast not pearls before swine. I might not have had pearls, but heck even if I was casting nickels it would have been the same thing.

Clearly if these guys are voters we have no hope. The level of ignorance was just staggering. I started thinking about the Lincoln Douglas debates. I fear that were those two men to arrive from Heaven speaking the vernacular of the 21st century to debate the issues of the day the general public would by and large be completely incapable of understanding their arguments.

I am not talented enough to fully describe what I heard. But if what I heard was really a representative sample then we are truly doomed. Lord help us, we're doomed.

Where can I go to find a population of free thinking, independent, and self reliant people who are interested only in making their own way in the world without the need for or expectation of the warm, fluffy and ultimately suffocating blanket of parental government?

My Green Mile

2008-10-06T11:35:00.001-04:00

I was supposed to have a meeting with my boss this morning. He had to reschedule (I wasn’t surprised, he’s a great boss but has time management issues) to Wednesday.

When we finally do meet he’s going to put me on a Performance Improvement Plan (PIP). I’m going on because my sales have been poor lately. It’s no surprise and it’s happened before, but it still sucks.

PIP used to be worse in the old days because it would cost you stock options and limit your ability to take time off. Both of those things are gone now, so the only downside is the prospect of getting fired.

And don’t think it doesn’t happen. There have been a dozen people or more that I’ve seen it happen to. I was almost one of them in July of 2007. I was within 8 hours of getting fired and got lucky at the last minute.

This month I get the verbal warning. In November I go on written. Technically if they wanted to get rid of me my last day could be November 28th. I don’t think it will happen, but it’s possible.

I have a countdown going in my head. 53 more working days as of today. I should be able to last until then.

I plan to give notice on December 8th anyway so if they fire me I can get a month off with my vacation pay and a month of unemployment. If they don’t I’ll get paid through the 19th and my vacation pay (close to 4 weeks). Either way I won’t be here in January.

My boss once mentioned that people don’t quit companies, they quit managers. I fully understand that, but I don’t feel like I’m doing that. If I was still working for the guy I was when I made the decision to return to school I think I would. But I will make it a point to thank this boss for everything, assure him that there are no hard feelings and wish him success with complete sincerity.

One of the things I feel bad about is quitting on him. Like I said he’s a good guy and I really believe that he’s interested in my success. Last week I accepted his invitation to his Christmas party (the managers here are encouraged to host parties for their teams in their own homes). The party is the 12th. So that Monday I quit, Friday I go to his party and spend the next week just getting things ready for my departure. Is attending the party a way to say thanks or is it a kick in the teeth? How do you see it?

A synopsis of the "bailout"

2008-09-30T14:26:00.002-04:00

This was written by my brother, Juan. I've edited a little to clean some stuff up but I have not changed any of his points. Bascially just spelling and grammer, but only where I thouhgt I must.

Take a look and tell me what you think.

The History

People have to start by looking at the root causes. In the late 90s, Alan Greenspan went crazy trying to "eliminate inflation" and cut rates to the bone, to get more money out to the country. We created wealth, and encouraged investment, which worked and spawned a technology boom and we saw big expansion in America. Things were by all accounts good - too good. It was a boom, rather than steady growth. But it is starting to seem like he went a little too far. Imagine blowing a bubblegum bubble - if you blow on it slowly, it grows. If you blow too much too fast, it pops. This had the unintended consequence of removing a good portion of the leverage the Fed has on the economy. (Generally, the Fed controls the money supply and interest rates. Lower rates encourage investment, and higher rates generally encourage savings). Well once you cut rates to the bone, you have no new incentives to make people spend, or stimulate investment.

Then we had George Bush's Admin in power. They got into office as the bubble burst. Now this is not to say that the bubble popping was Clinton's fault, or even Bush's. It was unsustainable growth. Then as the air went out of the market (NASDAQ, the technology company index, went from 5200 to 1500. - that is a whoopin' in anyone’s book) we had the second shoe dropping - the terrorist attacks. Again, not a fault of any administration. It’s not like GW and his policies were the reason for this, as the terrorists started planning under a more internationally popular administration. This essentially can be blamed on every admin definitely to Truman, and possibly all the way back to a time when the US was buidling ships to take on the Barbary pirates (thats the "shores of Triploi" reference in the Marine Corps hynm). Anyway, as the economy takes a beating on both fronts, the one area that props up the economic indicators is the housing market.

Now you have the change in the government. Up until the attacks, we figured we were all safe. I did. The attacks showed us how we were vulnerable. And then we created the "Homeland security dept.", and tried to revamp the immigration dept., and did all of these things that increased the size of government, not by choice, but as many saw as necessity. Unfortunately, there were no spending cuts to make up the added amount. Now we add in the war. Everyone was all gung ho about going in and blowing up bad guys. However, I doubt many were prepared for war like we are experiencing. Or the duration, or the cost. I believe the government was, but the American people turned when we didn't win and leave in 100 hours so to speak. And of course, there were things that were mishandled, and plans went drastically awry. But generally, it is another cost that derives no growth in the economy.

Congress now decides that the American dream is for everyone to have a home, in this great social Democrat dream of universal prosperity, and for more people to get credit. The administration looks and says hey, we are going out there and helping people own homes, so this MUST be good. Everyone of every party is in agreement so they go about helping boost homeownership. The congress voted for against a bill which would have limited the portfolio size of the Fannie Mae. I guess this was voted against on a party basis by the Deems. So Fannie gets bigger, and makes the future problem potentially larger. And like many people who don't understand what the real world is like, the people who agreed to all of this loosened policy all assumed wrongly that people who got credit and bought these houses outside of their means would live up to their responsibilities. Guess what happened? People around here who lost their jobs, and couldn't find work that could pay for their homes, or had to move to get work. I feel for those people... I really do. In those cases, foreclosures are not really due to bad decisions, and in many of those cases, I can see how it can happen to a lot of people. But that isn't the bulk of our foreclosures. Then there are the people who were given mortgages that were either too dumb to know that they couldn't afford them, had no intention of paying for them to begin with, or figured that they would get the benefits of great run ups in the market, and flip the house, or refinance it later when the value went up. Now, because there is a HUGE influx of buyers, housing prices start to rise and people take notice. Boomers buy real estate like crazy to prey on Gen X - like always. In 2006, almost 70% of the houses purchased were second houses, by boomers. People notice the money to be had, and decide to start to flip houses. It becomes so popular they make freaking TV shows out of it. A general rule of investing is that when everyone is in the market, it is time to get out. As loans went bad, banks and companies increased those lending standards again, and now you had far less money going into the housing market. Then you ran out of buyers, and these prices that were blown well in excess of fair value started to sink. Now suddenly, people who had bought were screwed, and rather than take the cash losses, they walk away.

Up to this time Fannie Mae is buying up all of these mortgages, and packaged them into collateralized mortgage backed securities which as essentially huge bonds based on mortgages. In a new shocking twist, I was told these things were rated AAA which is the highest credit rating you can get for a company, presumably because it was a quasi government agency. Well, the underlying value of these things collapses and Fannie's portfolio is devastated. So the government bails them out. However, a lot of banks had bought these types of investments, though not packaged by government, to park investments and monies. And the private ones fall apart too, and banks that used to have all of these assets start taking massive losses, and they collapse. Notice, the companies in the most trouble are investment banks, which packaged and held these assets, and banks that did a lot of mortgage work in California. Have you heard of PMI? Mortgage insurance? A lot of people who don't put down 20% have to pay insurance on their mortgages in case they fail. Well, the actuaries (the dudes that calculate the risks and the cost/benefit analysis to price insurance) gave them a potential risk. Not knowing just how bad these things could go, they underestimated, and the massive underwriters were now liable for up to 40 times their normal losses in the same circumstance. So now the insurance companies are screwed.

The Present

Foreclosures are ridiculously high, banks own properties that are worth significantly less than the loan that was defaulted on, and the broader economy is solid on a regional basis. This means that there are diversified areas of the country (Dallas and others) are doing well while places with a basis on manufacturing are in deep trouble - like here. And the government wants to bail out the companies that took the losses. The form of the bailout is in question. Some (Obama) call for reviewing each mortgage, and forcing the lenders to reduce the amount of the loan to an "affordable level" for the people. Some (more liberal jackasses) think we should add car debt and credit card debt into the package to give ordinary individuals a "break." Which is ludicrous. They also want to attach stipulations on any company that takes bailouts that will let the government decide who gets paid, and how much. While I see some of the bonus and pay craziness of some of the top execs, it goes against everything I believe in to allow the government to dictate what anyone should or shouldn't make. There doesn't seem to be a clear answer as to how the rest of the bailout is structured.

The Consequences

I will tell you, the other bailouts have good and drastically bad points to them. Fannie/Freddie and AIG are about the same - a boat load of cash is loaned to the company at a prohibitively high interest rate, plus a warrant for 80% of the value. If the warrant is not ever exercised - like pulling the trigger on the transaction, the government never gets that share and the shareholders get bailed out too. Now, considering that AIG is a large insurer, if they go under, the people who have non-mortgage policies, like life insurance, home-owners, you name it, get wiped out. So in some senses bailouts generally will protect those people who are completely innocent in all of this. And of course, on the other hand is the gross cost. If done as loans above the market rates, then the government earns on this deal, but it doesn't seem to be what they are talking about.

But as hard as I look, all I hear about is where we are in pushing the bill through, but no details. Sadly, the best details out there came from George W who said that government would buy up all the bad debt. When I hear that, I would imagine that means people who were in foreclosure would now owe the government, and the government would own the property. Sounds like a huge got auction and slumlord activity is on the horizon. Goodbye once nice neighborhoods.

However, if you tighten up the credit markets, and prevent people from gaining access to money, that is a bad thing, and could greatly hurt the broader economy. In some circumstances, I think it would be better for most people to have tightened credit, considering how poorly they did with more credit. In others, less credit than currently, means less money is spent, and the economy comes to a grinding halt.

Suffice it to say, that I don't like the direct bailout idea at all. The only people who should really be bailed out are people and companies that bought highly rated CMOs only to find out they were worthless - which is essentially a fraudulent sale. Essentially, bailing out the goofballs who didn't pay their bills angers me greatly - mainly because I was the sucker who did pay his bills, and went without because that was the responsible thing to do. And in truth, all a bailout really seems to do for most banks is keep them in business. It doesn't make housing prices go up. It doesn't protect people from assets declining in value. It doesn't really strengthen the market. It puts a band-aid on a sucking chest wound. But that is just one man's opinion.

Off the Tracks

2008-09-29T16:53:00.001-04:00

Plan your work, work your plan. If you don’t know where you're going, any road will get you there. Make “to do” lists. Set goals. Be the ball.

Some days I love a good axiom and some days I’d be happy to take an axe to an axiom.

I had a plan (or at least a general idea) for today. I figured I’d do some administrative stuff and figuratively clean off the old desk and have a nice easy paperwork day.

I got into the office a little late because we got out of the house a little late. Since Mona is hourly I take her to the office first, then drop off The Peanut and finally go in myself. I started by day about ten minutes to nine. I was reading my daily comics and checking the news and eeeaaasssing into the morning when a guy from another slightly related group came by my desk and asked if I’d heard about the passing of a mutual friends (and coworker) father last Friday.

I hadn’t, but since he gave me the heads up I went to the funeral mass to pay my respects. His father was 91 and had a bunch of children and grandchildren to mourn his passing. It was a good long life so not nearly as tragic as too many other funerals often are. But good gravy it was a long affair. It was a full Catholic mass along with a short VFW honor guard ceremony and a military flag presentation (he’d served in the Second World War). I left the office before Ten and got back to pick Mona up for lunch at One. So I didn’t get back to my desk until about Two.

And once I got back here I just couldn’t get my act together. I hemmed. I hawed. I surfed the internet.

I got a couple of calls returned and sent a couple of emails but that was it. For some reason I just could not get it into gear. My sense of urgency, such as it is, was lost and not to be found again today. The worst part is that I don’t know why. I don’t think it was really the issue of the funeral, I think it was more about the unplanned and somewhat abrupt change in the days plan. Once I was off track there seemed to be no going back. Sure I’m easily distracted and prone to going off on tangents, but this degree of inability to get back on course is extreme.

What happened? Does this ever happen to you?

2008-09-29T15:02:00.000-04:00

My Story

2008-09-09T15:59:00.003-04:00

Over at The West Virginia Surf Report today, Jeff talked about how he met his wife at work and thought that it seemed like it was a pretty common way for spouses to meet. Then he asked people for their stories.

Here's what I said-

I’d never found fishing off the company pier effective.

Nope. I met Mona on eHarmony. She and I work in the same office now, but I don’t it counts.

My brother met his wife (plastic surgeon) on eHarmony and now that rat bastard is loaded.

3 of his buddies met their wives on eHarmony. And 2 of those guys… woof.

One of Mona’s cousins met her husband on eHarmony.

One of Mona’s close friends met his wife on eHarmony.

I’m telling you, that stuff works. I want to get all 16 of us together and shoot an eHarmony commercial.

Here’s a story that was written about us in a local paper. It’s reprinted here without permission and if it turns out to be an issue I’ll remove it with apologies. Names have been changed because it seems like the sane thing to do.

Mona framed the original article for me on my birthday this year. It was written in 2005.

***

DETROIT - Talk about life-changing decisions.
A year and a half ago, Jorge and Mona Lipschutz were both Detroit singles trying to figure out where to find a quality date.

Then they posted profiles on the same Internet dating site, met a few weeks later and got married a little more than a year after that.

Now, they're sitting in their Dearborn, Mich., home on a Friday evening trying to keep Hannah, their black Labrador puppy, from gnawing everything in sight.

Jorge, 35, and Mona, 29, look so cute and natural as a couple that they ought to be in one of those commercials for Internet dating sites.

They provide a pleasant contrast to the ABC show "Hooking Up" (9 p.m. Thursdays) where singles juggle, mislead, evade and dump potential mates they meet online.

The biggest drama in the Lipschutzs' lives involves deciding who has to clean up after Hannah. The Internet actually seems to have worked for Jorge and Mona.

"I'm still shocked she would have anything to do with me," says Jorge, who acts and looks a bit like the George Costanza character from "Seinfeld."

"C'mon, she's out of my league," he says, looking at his wife.

Mona, a shy redhead, shoots a "please shut up" look his way.

"That's a compliment," Jorge tries to explain.

"Thanks," she replies.

A few years ago, Jorge and Mona's relationship might never have happened. Initially labeled a last resort for losers, Internet dating has gone mainstream.

As the TV show "Hooking Up" reveals, the Internet is far from a magic answer for singles. In the first episode, Cynthia, a 34-year-old hair-salon manager, meets a guy online who describes himself as a "slim Fabio." In person, he looks more like a burned-out hippie.

The dating sites, though, say Internet dating has paid off for thousands of singles. Dating site eHarmony knows of at least 12,000 couples married after meeting on its site.

Match.com estimates it has helped hundreds of thousands of singles meet. It receives 200 e-mails or letters each month from couples telling about their engagements or marriages.

The age of online daters ranges from teens to seniors, but both eHarmony and Match.com say the prime audience tends to be people in their 30s who have moved beyond their college social network and are still looking for a mate.

More than 26 million people, or 16 percent of U.S. Internet users, visited an online dating site in June, according to comScore, a Virginia-based research firm.

The traffic has leveled off from an initial boom two years ago, but comScore estimates that U.S. consumers spent $470 million last year on Internet personals, making it the largest category of paid online content.

For Mona and Jorge Lipschutz, the Internet provided a better way to meet potential dates. Before going online, Jorge, a corporate rep for A large compay, and Mona, a landscape designer, say their dating lives weren't going well.

"It kind of sucked," Mona says bluntly. "It was frustrating. I was going out with different guys. I'd go out with them a couple of times here and there. I wasn't really clicking with any one."

In late 2003, Mona registered for eHarmony. A friend who met someone online encouraged her to sign up.

About the same time, Jorge saw a TV ad for the site and registered, too. Within a couple of weeks, their profiles were matched.

They met for lunch. Sparks didn't fly at first.

"I thought she was cute," Jorge says.

"I enjoyed the lunch," Mona says.

They agreed on a second date, which happened to be Valentine's Day. Jorge brought an unusual gift - flowers and drill bits.

In one of their early conversations, Mona told him that she received a drill as a Christmas gift but couldn't use it because it didn't come with drill bits.

The drill bits were funny and touching, Mona says. "I knew he was listening to what I was saying," she says.

The more time they spent together, the more they felt they were a match.

On the surface, they have differences. Jorge is conservative. He voted for Jorge W. Bush. Mona is liberal. She voted for John Kerry. Jorge is a scuba instructor. Mona rarely gets in the water.

But at the core, they have a lot in common. They both have independent personalities and enjoy traveling to new places. They prefer entertaining at home rather than going out to bars or clubs.

"For us, it's been very comfortable," Jorge says. "The word we use more than any other is 'easy."'

In September, right before an East Coast trip together, Jorge proposed. They were married in March. Marriage has made their lives better, they say.

"I have someone to share my day with," Jorge says.

"Share your life with, really," Mona adds.

Without the Internet, they say they never would have met. They frequently encourage single friends and family to register online.

Their advice about Internet dating: Sign up, fill out the profile honestly and take the time to thoughtfully consider your matches.

Internet dating isn't an act of desperation, Jorge says. It's a realization that you might not randomly stumble across your future husband or wife.

"For 34½ years, Ms. Right had not fallen out of the sky and landed in my lap," he says. "Maybe, waiting for it wasn't the right thing."

So what if I'm an anachronism?

2008-08-29T16:32:00.002-04:00

I wear ties to work almost every day, rain or shine. I also can’t bring myself to enter a church or go to a wedding or funeral without at least a jacket and tie.

Mona’s uncle passed away recently and we attended his funeral. I wore a dark suit, ironed and starched long sleeve shirt, conservative tie, leather belt and polished leather shoes. I was one of the few men who did.

A couple of guys had on short sleeved shirts and ties, one had a suit on with work boots. There were a couple of guys in golf shirts and Dockers and a few showed up in shorts! I was appalled, simply appalled.

The women weren’t much better. I’ll leave the rules for women to a woman, but I’ll make some “suggestions” for the guys.

There's a good reason that I dress up. It’s about respect. Respect for the people I am working with, celebrating with, worshiping with or mourning with. I show my respect by being freshly showered, shaved, and dressed as well as I can be.

Sure, sometimes I would be more physically comfortable in lighter weight clothing, but not everything is about how I feel. It’s about letting other people know that they are important enough that I would dress up for them.

Mona laughs at me, and asks if I want a black tie funeral. I think that’s a bit much, but have requested business attire.

If you want to know how a suit should fit, take a look at old tapes of Johnny Carson, or any member of the Rat Pack. Those guys were perfectly tailored at all times. And a good tailor can do more with a $150 off the rack suit than you can imagine. You don't need to spend a lot to look good.

Here are a few rules I follow. Even if you don’t wear suits to work, every guy should have at the very least a decent navy blue suit. Charcoal suits are a good second choice. Pinstripes are generally more conservative. Black suits should only be worn by funeral directors. Brown, tan or olive suits can only be worn in the Midwest and states where cowboy hats are appropriate. If you're not from a state where everyone wears hats and boots, don't try it.

Tuxedos come in one color. Black. White dinner jackets are only to be worn if you're James Bond. Tails are only worn on very formal occasions, as are white ties and white vests. Stripped pants are appropriate before 6 PM.

A suit should be made of 100% worsted wool and fully lined. If you can afford it (I can’t) you can wear silk suits. Silk is very comfortable in the heat and sits and moves beautifully. (I have a pair of silk pants from Nautica that I found at TJ Maxx. They were originally $125, I think I got them for $20 or $25.)

The bottom of the jacket should hang about to your knuckles when your arms hang naturally. Sleeves should be about even with your wrist bone in order to show a little of your shirt cuff. Single, double or unvented jackets are basically a fashion decision, but your body type may dictate one or another. Jackets are never buttoned when a vest is being worn. When not wearing vest the lowest button on the jacket should remain unbuttoned. Jackets are to be unbuttoned when sitting and re-buttoned upon standing. Always button the inside button when wearing a double breasted jacket.

Pants should sit at your natural waist. Pockets should lay flat and not bulge or pull. Cuffs are optional, and pants without cuffs are generally thought of as more formal. Pants should rest lightly on the top of the instep and have one single, slight break about 4 inches above the hem. The pant should never touch the floor, nor should it puddle around your ankles.

Belts or suspenders are a personal choice, but must never be worn simultaneously. Belts should be leather and not worn or damaged. Suspenders should be cloth and buttoned to brace buttons in the waistband of the pant.

Shirts should be pressed and starched. Collars should fit comfortably around the neck, neither pinching nor gapping. If your shirt has a place for collar stays you can purchase brass stays that hold the points flat all day. French cuffs are a matter of personal preference.

Neckties should be silk and clip-ons are only acceptable for police officers as a safety precaution. The size of the knot is determined by the distance of the collar points from one another. A wide collar needs a full Windsor. Button downs seem to work best with a half Windsor. Forehand knots are for narrow collars. The point of the tie should just meet the belt buckle. Never use a tie tack, they damage the silk.

Vests should be tailored to fit as well . The vest should button comfortably without pulling. The bottom button should be left unbuttoned.

Socks should be darker than your shoes, not see through and not falling down. White socks are never acceptable.

Shoes should be the same color as the belt. They should be lace ups, with polished leather with leather soles. Rubber soled shoes are for the gym. Plastic shoes are just an abomination.

I don’t expect to expire anytime soon, but if I should, please be dressed appropriately when you come to pay your respects.

Update on the recliner issue

2008-08-29T16:31:00.000-04:00

About 2 hours after I sent that email I got a call from a director in Minneapolis. He apologized, told me he’d call back in 10 minutes to tell me whether my chairs would be in on Friday or Saturday, and was sending me a gift card by way of apology.

I’m darned impressed with the turnaround, and have been enjoying my matched recliners for a couple of weeks now.

Pride and Politcis

2008-08-08T13:10:00.002-04:00

You may or may not know that I live very near the city of Detroit.

Three's been a lot of news coming out of the city recently concerning Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick.

He's been charged with something like 15 counts of perjury stemming from a trial where he testified that he was not having an affair with is the Chief of Staff. Text messages sent on a city owned pager seem to suggest otherwise.

He recently spent a night in the county jail when a judge revoked his bond because the mayor made a trip to Canada without informing the court or asking permission to go.

He's now out on $50,000 bond and wearing a tether.

He will be arraigned today on two counts of felony assault related to claims that he shoved a sheriffs deputy and a process server who were trying to serve a subpoena on one of the mayors friends.

If you're not a local, have you heard about any of this?

What are your thoughts? What do you think of when you think of Detroit? What do you think when someone tells you they're from Detroit?

Let's see where this gets me

2008-08-06T16:27:00.003-04:00

I still owe you more stories of dealing with mental patients. I'll get to them, I promise.

I have something else on my mind at the moment.

You might remember me asking a while ago where I should spend some gift cards I had won. Mona and I decided to buy a new PC from Dell, get a 40" LCD TV as a monitor and get a couple of recliners for the repainted and newly cleaned out office.

We've had the TV and PC for a while, but the recliners are an issue. We're sitting in an old office chair and a lawn chair right now. I expressed my frustration with Macys in the following letter to each member of their Board of Directors, CEO, CFO and various VPs.

To Whom It May Concern:

On July 22nd I ordered 2 Lane recliners from the Macy's store at Westland Mall in Westland, Michigan.

The recliners were paid for with gift cards which were awarded to me by my employer (a Fortune 60 company) for outstanding sales performance.

At the time of order, I chose to pick up the recliners in order to a) avoid the $100 delivery fee, b) not miss a day of work and c) pick up the chairs at my convenience. There was a $15 charge for pick up, which I agreed to.

I was told to expect the furniture to arrive in about 10 days. I waited 14 days and finally called to request an update on the status of my order. I was told that the distribution center in Chicago shipped half of my order and that I could expect the other half to arrive the following week.

When I contacted the pick up location at Macy's Northland in Southfield, Michigan I was advised that customer pick up was no longer an option and the second recliner would not be available for pick up.

In fact, the first recliner needed to be returned to the distribution center and reshipped to me directly. There would be another week's delay and an additional delivery fee.

In contacting customer service I spoke to a supervisor and while she was professional, polite and sympathetic, she was unable to assist me. She did agree to credit the delivery fee, but only after I receive the furniture.

This is not acceptable to me. I have been a professional business to business sales representative in a quota bearing environment for more than 15 years. I know what it takes to make a sale and to retain my customers business in the following months and years.

Macy's has not lived up to what I consider the minimum standard of customer service.

I have declined to pay any additional fees and am attempting to secure a refund of my money.

I believe I have a contract with Macy's and your organizations decision to make unannounced changes leading to additional fees is at best, a poor business practice.

The inability of the company to set proper expectations at the time of sale, provide post-sale communication and meet the terms of your agreements is highly disappointing.

Macy's inability to resolve this issue quickly and to my satisfaction will ensure I consider other retailers in the future.

Should you have any questions please feel free to contact me at any time.

Love,

Jorge

(I didn't really sign it like that)

So what do you think will happen?

Mixed Nuts

2008-07-08T16:36:00.002-04:00

This entry grew out of a comment I posted on The West Virginia Surf Report. If you’re not a surf reporter yet, you should be.

Mental hospitals.

Oh, I have stories.

My Mom was a psychiatric nurse and for a time she worked at a mental hospital that took only geriatric patients.

When I was 16 or 17 she was working on Easter Sunday. The weather had been warm and stormy, and there were Tornado watches all over the place. Dad made the traditional Easter feast and after dinner he packed a cooler with all kinds of goodies and sent me over to the hospital to deliver it to her. It was the first time I had been asked to take something to the hospital. So I walked in and checked with the security guards in the lobby. They directed me to the elevators and up I went to the 5th floor.

It was a locked down floor, so when I stepped off the elevator I found myself in a locked lobby with wire mesh embedded glass all around. The long wall directly in front of the elevators looked into the day room where the TV’s, chairs, checker boards and such were. The wall to the right was the outside wall and the wall to the left had the door and looked towards the nurses’ station.

Because of the Tornado watches all the patients were required to be in the day room all day. That way they could be evacuated in the event of an emergency. Unfortunately it also meant that they were all confined in a room together all day, stirring one another up. I know that al least one or two of them were upset because the balloons in the parade that was on the televisions had been talking to them.

Mom saw me when I got off the elevator and let me onto the floor. Her patients also saw me and started pouring out of the day room at a shuffle to check out the new face. By the time I set the cooler on the desk at the nurses station there was a herd of a dozen or so patients coming towards me. It reminded me a little of those zombie movies where they all shamble around glassy eyed and slightly unfocused in a dense pack, looking for brains to eat. It’s also worth noting that people who have been on strong psychotropic drugs for a long time develop tremors. And they’re not little tremors like the way your hand’s shake after you narrowly avoid a bad car wreck. No, their hands shake like they’re strumming invisible guitars.

So here come the whackos, a-shufflin’ and a-strummin’ led by a little black lady in a brown floral print house dress. She was about 5 feet tall and somewhere in the neighborhood of 200 Lbs. She smiled and the first thing that I noticed was that her 4 front teeth were missing. She was smiling at me with pretty much just her fangs. As she smiled, strummed and shuffled she said something that I couldn’t make out and then started LIFTING UP HER DRESS!

Mom gets between me and them and starts backing me down the hall to the elevator lobby, explaining that the old lady isn’t really trying to expose herself, she’s just really proud of her gallbladder scar. I didn’t know where to look or what to do. Mom got the lobby door unlocked, shoved me through and I went home a little shaken and a lot wiser.

Story number 2.

This story, like the previous one, I swear is absolutely true.

A few months later it was summer break. Trips to the hospital were fairly common. My brother and I were hanging out at home when Mom called and asked me to bring something, probably a book, to the hospital that she’d forgotten.

At 18 I was in great shape, but I’m not a big guy. I was maybe 5'7" and 150 Lbs. My brother at 14 hadn’t made 5’ yet and was less than 100 Lbs (He grew in college). Mom was a small lady too, and at that time maybe 5’5” and 110 Lbs. She was darn tough, but again, not a large woman. This will be important later.

So we jumped into the car and headed over. This time the security people wouldn’t let us up on the floor, which meant Mom had to come down to lobby to meet us.

When she arrived she had company. One of her patients was with her. This patient, let’s call her Jane Jones, was a tall black woman, close to 6’ and looked to be pretty healthy. This lady was one of Mom’s favorites. She often thought she was either God, the Devil, or (and I absolutely swear this is true) Ginger Rogers. When she was tap dancing down the halls Mom used to dance right along with her.

Even medicated, people with serious mental illnesses sometimes are not able to manage their illness and have “episodes”. That day she was with Mom because she was on a one on one watch and could not be left alone because she might harm herself or someone else. Such was the case with Jane.

Anyway, when Mom arrived she waved us over and introduced her patient. We had met patients before and knew the drill. Mom raised us to be polite we were expected to behave towards her patients as we would to any of her friends. Here’s how the conversation went this time:

Mom: “Jane, these are my sons, Jorge and Juan. Boys, this is Ms. Jones.”

Juan: “Hi, how are you?”

Me: (Offering to shake hands) “Hi Ms. Jones, nice to meet you.”

Ms. Jones: “I ain’t Jones, I’m God!”

Me: ”.......”

We had left the book on the security counter and walked over to get it. As we turned back towards them I heard Ms. Jones demand a cigarette from Mom. Mom told her no and was right in front of her when she said it. She said no because Mom’s floor was a behavior modification unit which tried to use positive and negative reinforcement to help patients learn to manage their behavior. Since Ms. Jones had been bad, she wasn’t allowed cigarettes, and Mom told her so. That’s when this very big, very crazy lady raised her right fist over her head and said “Give me a M@&^$*F&$IN’ cigarette.

I looked back at the security guards as they started practicing their “I didn’t see anything” faces. When I turned back around Mom is in this lady’s face, looking up and calmly but firmly explaining why there would be no cigarettes for Ms. Jones, and Ms. Jones still has her fist raised.

Now I know Mom has finally snapped and is about to get herself killed. I’m looking at my little brother and I know he’s not going to be a help because he’s no bigger than most 10 year olds. So when Jane blasts my Mom I’m gonna have to step in.

Mom had often told stories about patients sending three or 4 people to the ER at the same time when they get rough with the staff and need to be restrained. I had 3 things going through my mind:

1. Give her the damn cigarette!

2. I am about to get my ass beat by an old lady.

3. After I get out of the hospital how am I going to explain to a Judge what I’m doing getting into fights with mental patients?

Right at that moment I saw my first miracle. Mom backed her down! Jane said ok and was quiet as a lamb after that. Wow. I was shocked and grateful that whatever crazy she had going on wasn’t quite crazy enough to start smacking my Mom around that day.

Mom took her book and Ms. Jones and went back upstairs. I went home with my brother and a new story to tell.

Any interest in reading an more of these? What about you? Any encounters with the unbalanced that you’d care to relate?

Fun, follies and firearms

2008-07-03T10:29:00.003-04:00

My little brother is getting married at the end of the month. Last weekend was his bachelor party. He’s 35 so the party was less about traditional debauchery and more about hanging around with friends. We sat around and made fun of each other and people we know, ate lots of grilled meat, did some target shooting, and in the evenings had a few (but not too many) drinks.

One of his college roommates had offered to host all of us at his cabin in a place about 10 miles south of Lewiston Mi. If you take a look at a Google satellite map you’ll it’s just a place in the woods with darn few neighbors.

When I arrived, I went to take some things out of the back of my Focus. The lift gate doesn’t always go all the way up and I don’t always remember to check. So I walked into the bottom corner of the thing. It got my on the top of the head and man did that hurt. My left eye wanted to close and crawl into my skull to try and fill the dent I made. Fortunately I recovered swiftly.

Then we went out target shooting. I was firing my hunting rifle for the first time in more that 15 years. I had forgotten how much recoil there was. Today I still have some bruising on my shoulder. A lot of innocent paper targets had to die so that I could get that bruise, but it was worth it.

The cabin was small but well made, with 2 bedrooms, a kitchen and sitting area and running water and electricity. Not too rustic, but also not designed for long term residence (no closets, for example). There wasn’t room for everyone, so one guy slept on couch cushions while another used the sleeper sofa. Another had a tent and someone else slept on an air mattress on the porch. I knew that space was at a premium, and had a plan.

In the late summer of 2003 we had a power outage that affected most of the northeastern US. 10’s of millions were without power and the news suggested that it would take some time to get everyone up and running. It was also ridiculously hot and humid. I didn’t sleep that night and decided that sleeping outdoors might be cooler than staying inside with the windows open. But I didn’t have any camping gear, so buying a tent and an air mattress and setting everything up in the yard was too much expense for a day or two. Sleeping without some sort of protection also seemed like a bad idea. At the very least I am a mosquito magnet.

My solution? I went to an Army Surplus store in my neighborhood and bought a jungle hammock. It has a nylon roof and sides made of mosquito netting, so I figured I’d be kept cool and free of pests. Not long after setting it up in my yard on the hooks where my clothes line was, power was restored. I took it down without ever having slept in it. But with the bachelor party coming up I thought “Here’s my chance!”

The weather had been warm, but generally not oppressive. The nights cool but not cold. So I bought some new rope to tie the hammock to a pair of suitable trees and headed for the party in the woods.

After l arrived I set the thing up. The biggest downside to the hammock is the ridicule it invites and the fact that with all the lines you need it looks like a homeless and slightly deranged sailor is living in your yard. I was prepared for the jokes and didn’t mind it, since my comfort was my paramount concern. I was never a sailor however, and while I can tie a knot in a pinch, the job I do is serviceable but not very efficient or in any way elegant. But it was up and it held my weight when I tested it.

It was later in the evening when things went wrong. I had expected some rain and was right. But I sort of lashed the hammock up under its own roof and it stayed dry during the storm. What I hadn’t anticipated was the cold front that was causing the storms. After the rain stopped the temperature dropped to the low 50’s. Because it had not been that cool in some time I had expected to sleep in no more than sweats and be comfortable.

But those temperatures require some kind of insulation, especially when one is off the ground. One of the guys let me borrow a sleeping bag. It was made of very satiny nylon and (unbeknownst to me) had a right had zipper. More on this later.

When I first sat down in the hammock in preparation to remove my shoes and climb in there was a loud *SNAP* that was heard (followed quickly by my use of an expletive to convey surprise) in the cabin. A line on the roof had snapped and the hammock rolled over, trapping me mostly inside with my feet sticking up into the air. I was trapped, resting mostly on my shoulders and upper back.

The guys at the party heard the snap and immediately dissolved into paroxysms of laughter. They were still laughing as I called out “A little help! Little help here!” By the time my brother and one of his friends came out it was getting a little hard to breathe. But they pulled me out, laughing the entire time. I had a little bump on my right shoulder, but was generally OK.

After enjoying their hilarity for a while I tried to figure out what snapped and affect a repair. I never did figure it out and retied most of the lines. When I was finally ready I went inside, retrieved the sleeping bag, shut off the exterior light and stepped out onto the porch. Then I forgot where the next step was, stepped half off it, and rolled my left ankle. I’ve sprained it in the past, which makes it more likely to happen now. So now I had a bump on the head, bruised shoulders and a sprained ankle. But I still had my sense of humor and a tiny, tiny scrap of dignity.

Back to the sleeping bag. I put it in upside down (again unknowingly) and struggled into it. Because the bottom is longer than the top I couldn’t get my back covered without covering my face. I thought it was just an issue of the bag sliding around.

And because the hammock sustained a little minor damaged (I was unaware of this, too) it was now off balance and had a tendency to want to roll to the right. So I needed some help getting in and getting balanced. This created more mirth. I took it well. Really. It was pretty funny. Eventually the roll and the sleeping bag annoyed me enough to get me to get out and once again re-tie everything.

While all this was going on I could hear laughter from the cabin. After another few attempts I checked my Navy Seal Watch. The glow in the dark face said 2:30 AM. That’s also known as time to give up. So I took the sleeping bag inside and slept on the kitchen floor.

I got about 4 hours of sleep, had breakfast, enjoyed everyone’s retelling the story of my night over breakfast, went home, showered and took a nap.

Good times.

Another request for you

2008-06-26T14:42:00.004-04:00

As you may know, I am a SCUBA diver. I enjoy the heck out of it and have even done some instructing. I’ve been inactive over the last year or two mostly due to the fact that my favorite dive shop closed and work and family have placed increased demands on my time.

Mona is not a SCUBA diver, nor do I think she will ever be one. I should say that the likelihood of her learning to dive is about the same as it is for me to give birth to our next child. I accept that.

Neither one of us is in the kind of physical shape we were in when we met.

Mona is actually thinner, but when we met she worked outdoors a lot and took regular Yoga classes.

I am about 20 to 25 pounds heavier. When we met I was teaching SCUBA 2 or 3 times a week and was in the gym 11 times a week. Heck, I was almost buff.

Now neither of us do those things anymore.

So Mona, largely in an effort to help me get into better shape and get her out of the house more, has suggested we find a new hobby we can take up.

I’m giving some thought to Krav Maga classes, but it’s not a great deal. And in addition to not being a diver, Mona is not interested in punching someone or worse yet, being punched herself.

Which brings me here. You guys were great when I asked about financial aid for school, so I’m coming to you, my trusted advisors, once again. I need some suggestions for things that we can do together to have some fun and get a little exercise. If we can involve The Peanut so much the better.

One final note of caution: I have 2 mild to moderately herniated discs in my lower back. It has forced me to give up golf (a game I really enjoyed at one time and that Mona would like to learn) because I can’t bend and turn at the same time. Skating whether on ice or pavement also guarantees a back injury for me.

I can carry heavy loads as long as they are on my back. Out in front of me is no good. I am also recognized by Guinness as the world’s second slowest human, so competitive track and field is pretty much out.

Other than those restrictions there shouldn’t be anything I or Mona can’t do.

So there it is. Your chance to pick my new hobby. Have at it, and as always, all suggestions are given full consideration and received with genuine gratitude.

The winning suggestion may be announced and rewarded with heartfelt thanks and possibly a warm handshake should we ever meet in real life.

Of Mice and Men

2008-06-11T07:49:00.001-04:00

OK, I still have a couple of things on the list that I might make mention of later, but today I’m all about news. We've had a change of plans.

Over the weekend my air conditioner broke. This was a bigger crisis than you can imagine, because I’m made of 60% butter and 15% ice cream.

I was desperate to get the thing fixed and started calling every heating and cooling company I could find on Monday morning. The earliest I could get anyone out was Tuesday morning. Monday was the longest night of my life. I barely survived the humidity.

At 8 AM Tuesday the repair guy showed up. 2 fuses, 10 minutes and $70 later I was back to living in hermetically sealed, dehumidified, climate controlled comfort.

I decided to work from home and by noon the air was off and the windows were open again because of course it had cooled off and the humidity was gone.

But that was all background to explain what I was doing at home at 4 in the afternoon. Because that’s when the phone rang.

When I picked it up I recognized the voice on the other end and immediately began to imagine the worst. It was the admissions lady from the nursing school that I was accepted to. We’ve had some issues, her and I, and I was expecting to hear that there was a problem or that I wasn’t getting in after all. Even after having sent them my $500 deposit to confirm my admission.

But I was wrong! The program begins every May and goes 12 months. After completing it you have your very own Bachelors of Science in Nursing. It seems that the school has figured out there is a huge demand for nurses and a lot of people who are looking to make a career change. So they added another class that is set to begin in January of 2009.

The admissions lady wanted to know if I was interested in getting started 5 months earlier than planned. Hell yes I’m interested. So I made a quick call to check with Mona and see what she thought (her answer was “Hell yes!) and I sent an email confirming my desire to enter the January class.

So that’s it, I’ve only got to keep my job another 7 months. That should be really doable. I’ll quit at the end of the year and 2009 will be all about school.

I think this will mean buying a PC instead of the plasma, but I may have enough points to buy a decent tower and a midsize plasma with PC inputs that I can use as a TV and monitor. Or should I go LCD now since I want to use it as a monitor?

The only downside is I’ll be giving up 4 months of income on the front side. But we’re doing our best to save up now so we should make it.

So now I have a question. Does anyone know anything about getting scholarships and grants? I’m headed to a private school and tuition for even a year is surprisingly expensive. So far all I know I can get is $4000 from the state in exchange for my willingness to work 2 years in a hospital. I’m not sure if I really want to do that.

As always, your thoughts and advice are greatly appreciated.

The best kind of dilema

2008-05-30T20:50:00.002-04:00

It has recently been pointed out (correctly; thank you Kathleen) that school is out and yet my postings here remain infrequent. I know. And I have been meaning to write a post or two, but I’m having some trouble.

I don’t know if it’s writers block (and I’m slightly uncomfortable calling myself a writer) or what. I just don’t have many ideas. I'm not even commenting in places where I usually comment. It's just not coming.

I’ve never been a diarist, and frankly I’m often not self aware enough to realize just what’s going on internally at any given moment.

But I do have a couple of things that sprung to mind. I’ll stick with the first issue and save the other two for later.

I have what I’m reluctant to call a problem or conundrum or puzzle. It’s certainly not an issue. I have an opportunity really. The thing about the opportunity is that it requires I make a choice. And it’s the choosing that I’m having trouble with.

I know the last few times you heard from me I was bitching about my job. I’m still annoyed by it in general, but lately it’s been going well. Most of the headaches are the kinds that are good to have.

As you know from lo these many posts, I’m a sales rep. For as many problems and gripes that I have, one of the many upsides is compensation and rewards and recognition.

We have sales contests from time to time and are rewarded with “sales points” that are over and above our regular commission payouts. They can be cashed in on an internal website for "stuff". There’s lots of stuff to choose from; think Sharper Image and SkyMall meets Home Depot and Best Buy. There’s more, but hopefully you get the idea. You can also get gift certificates to a bunch of places.

These sales points can’t be redeemed for cash. They can’t be invested in any way. You have to blow them on something. They may only be used for “fun.” Two years ago I won some and bought a compound miter saw and a table saw. I also won a pair of iPod Nanos and a few other things.

I’ve won a few contests again recently (and may win a few more) and I’ve got the cash equivalent of about $1400 in sales points to spend. The thing is, I’m torn about how to spend it. Here’s what I’m thinking-

Right now I have a 36” Sony TV. It was a pretty high end TV when I bought it 10 years ago. It’s still working well. But those plasma TVs are pretty cool and I could easily mount one to a wall in my basement. I could get a pretty decent 42” plasma for down there. But again, the big TV works just fine. And we don’t watch much TV in general. 6 to 8 hours a week is about the maximum.

Or I could get a 32” or so plasma for my bedroom and watch movies and whatnot with Mona. But she pointed out that I’m likely to want to watch TV while she wants to go to bed or leave the thing on when I fall asleep. I tend to think she’s right. I’ve also had people say that a bedroom TV is not a good idea just for the basic health of a marriage. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but is it a chance I want to take?

I could also hold on to the points for a while (they never expire) and use them to buy a really nice computer for when I go back to school. I haven’t had my own computer in more than 10 years. My employers furnish them and I use them for business and at home. Mona has a laptop that she bought 3 years ago, spilled orange juice on last year and is not likely to remain viable for much longer. Plus, when I quit next year this machine goes back to the company.

The third choice is to get some gift cards that are basically debit cards to be used for vacations. They can be used for hotel rooms, restaurants, etc. Mona demanded that if she was going to go back to work that I agree to take her on vacation somewhere. These gift cards could take some of the sting out of paying for a week long vacation.

Now something you should know about me. I like to hold on to money. Even this kind of money. I still have the cash my mother gave me for Christmas just before she passed away. I have money from other relatives that just stays in my wallet unspent. I have a $100 bill from an aunt in there that’s been there for at least 8 years.

Although I don’t like to spend I won’t agree that I’m cheap. When I do something I tend to be a spare no expense kind of person. I don’t want to throw around numbers so I’ll just say that when I entertain I prefer to overspend on food and wine rather than underspend. When I buy something I feel I need I tend to beilve the adage “You get what you pay for”. And I am fine paying for quality. It’s committing to do something that’s that problem. Deciding to spend is my personal hurdle.

I’d be very happy to sit on these sales points forever. But I can’t do that for much longer.

So here’s where you come in. Please help me out and answer two questions for me. Which of the three choices above would you take and why? If I gave you $1400 that you had to spend in a Sharper Image and SkyMall meets Home Depot and Best Buy type of place, what would you get?

All suggestions will be considered and all ideas gratefully welcomed.

Mona expresses her creativity

2008-05-12T10:29:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was Mother’s Day, and Mona asked me to post something here. Since I believe I was obligated by law to agree to any wish she made on Mothers Day, please take a look at her Jewelry site.

She got into making jewelry when she and a few other moms she hangs around with had a girls night out at some jewelry and pottery make store. She enjoyed it so much that she started making stuff at home in her spare time (usually when The Peanut is napping). She’s made a bunch of necklaces and such and feels like the only way she can make is to get rid of what she’s got now. Think of it as a garage sale kind of thing.

I promise there will be no further commercial messages after this.

The Hinge and The Axe

2008-05-09T14:39:00.003-04:00

Not to get on my soapbox, but I really believe there's a difference between a professional sales person and a person who is selling something. I actually have a Bachelors in Sales, it says just that on my diploma.

A professional sales person is looking to find a need and demonstrate how his or her product solves a problem for a customer. Sometimes we have to really do some digging to find that need, but they are real when we find them. And we don't always uncover a genuine need. If that reps products or services don't meet a need then he or she says so and everyone parts as friends. Either everyone wins or no one losses.

Someone selling something is in it for themselves and has no regard for his or her customer. He wins, the customer loses and that's just too bad.

While I have a responsibility to my company, I also have a responsibility to my customer. I represent the company’s interest to the customer and the customer’s interests to the company. I am the pin in the hinge. Without me the door and the frame never meet. The door can't do it's job and the frame is just an empty hole in the wall.

The person selling something is like a fire axe. The axe does not pity the door. It is merely a thing to be rid of to get where it's going.

The analogy falls apart at this point, but I'm going to say it anyway. Fire axes make hinge pins look bad.

But you get my point. I'm nothing like Herb Tarlek or the guy you expect to find on a used car lot. No real salesperson is.

F*(&king staff weenies

2008-05-07T13:06:00.001-04:00

With the exception of the ending, this is exactly how I feel.

Check out this video.

Good news and other news.

2008-05-06T16:45:00.003-04:00

First the good news. I’m done with school for the next year. I need to place out of a psych class, but that shouldn’t be a big deal. I got an A- in Anatomy and Physiology II and an A in Microbiology.

Mona was offered a job at my company and will start in about 2 weeks. She’ll be in a different department on another floor, so we won’t really work together as much as we’ll work in the same place.

The Peanut has been healthy and happy and is a crack up in the way I imagine most other kids her age are.

Not long ago I was lamenting that I never see weird stuff. Well, I am now seeing weird stuff pretty regularly. Now my lament is that I don’t have a camera to prove to everyone that I really do see this stuff.

“For example?” you say. Alright. A few weeks ago we were headed to a relatives house to celebrate Orthodox Easter. We made a turn to to get on the freeway and stopped at a light. And there in the crosswalk was a guy in a motorized wheel chair. No that’s not the weird part. There was a guy in an unpowered wheelchair right behind him. Upon closer examination we could see what looked like a tow strap wrapped around the frame of the powered chair and the leg holder parts of the other chair. The second guy was under tow. It was crazy looking.

Last week I saw some kid on a pair of these stilts wearing a bike helmet an picking his way tentatively across my street.

I have got to get a little camera.

Last weekend we took The Peanut to the local petting zoo. They had an “Exotic Animal” day and it was really cool. They had snakes and lizards which we skipped, camel rides, which we skipped because we figured it would freak The Peanut out, lemurs, a sloth , a zebra and a few monkeys. None of the biting type animals were pet-able. But the coolest part were the Kangaroos. I learned that kangaroo fur is really soft, like extra fluffy fleece. I was really surprised. Who knew?

Lastly, I am now very dissatisfied with my job. As you know, I’m a commissioned sales rep. Right now I have 2 deals on the table that could take me to 125% of quota for the month. But we changed a policy on Thursday that let me make deals and offer discounts. As it stands, the offers I made are no longer good. And my bosses boss isn’t looking like he will help me. He’d rather walk away from the sales than do what we need to do. That’s right, it’s better not to sell at all than to violate a poorly constructed policy.

And all I want are some up front dollars. We’ll get our usual revenue from day 1 and it will run for years.

Oh, and if I don’t hit my quota they’ll can me. I have a little wiggle room, but nonetheless, it can and does happen. 3 guys have been let go in the last 2 months for performance.

In my opinion, if it’s not illegal, immoral or unethical then my management needs to do everything in it’s power to help me close deals.

So I’m thinking I need to look for another job. The response I’m getting tells me that the management here is not concerned with my success.

Does anyone know someone who is hiring sales reps? I’ve got experience in dental instruments, software, computer hardware, telecom, transatlantic containerized freight service, and cars.

Let me know.

A favorite recipe

2008-05-01T16:27:00.003-04:00

Mona decided to have me make dinner last night. I used to do it all the time, but after The Peanut arrived she started cooking because she was at home. After she went to work neither of us cooked and I got fat. I was in school at the same time, so take out or frozen pasta was quick and easy. Now that she's off, she's doing most of the cooking again. And now that school is done, I'll cook some more too.

She asked me for one of her favorites. I like it too, and the best part is it takes about 15 minutes from start to service.

So here's what Mona had me make last night:

Pesto encrusted Tuna steak.

The recipe:

Any number of Tuna steaks

an equal number of TBSP of your favorite Pesto sauce

an equal number of TBSP of Parmesan/Romano/Pecorino cheese (whichever you prefer.)

1 TBSP or so of Extra Virgin Olive Oil

Warm a nonstick pan with a metal handle on a burner set to medium or medium-high.

Turn on broiler on High

Add olive oil and Tuna steak(s). Cook the Tuna on 1 side for about 60 to 90 seconds (for rare tuna). DO NOT touch the fish while it cooks. You're searing it.

Remove pan from the burner, turn over steaks and coat the top of each with pesto, followed by cheese.

Place the pan into the oven on an upper rack. Broil for 90 seconds or until cheese melts and starts to brown (watch closely, it will happen FAST).

Remove from the oven, serve.

I like to have a risotto on the side with some vegetables. Zucchini or Asparagus are favorites.

It's been a while.

2008-04-18T12:51:00.002-04:00

Next week is my last week of classes for a year. I'm ready for the break. Anatomy and Physiology II along with Microbiology is tough on the schedule. But I don't want you to think I've abandoned the blog.

The good news is that I should have A's in both classes.

Mona has not been hired by my company, but the hiring manager liked her and has kept her resume open with HR. They expect some growth and as soon as there's another slot she should get a call.

In the meantime she's taken a part time job at a large ad agency that will look good on her resume and give her a chance to see what it's like to work in a civilized business.

She's also feeling much better.

The Peanut is doing well too. She's happy at school and likes to hang around with Mona when she's home. Her vocabulary is growing (even though the only people who usually understand her are her parents) and she's starting to form short, though incomplete sentences. She says things like "Daddy shoes" when she finds one of my shoes or "Momma shower" when Mona takes a shower.

The dog is glad for the warm weather, she's getting walked again. Who knows what the cat thinks.

And that's the quickie update.

How'm I doing?

2008-04-04T13:18:00.004-04:00

I got this survey from Kathleen.

Frankly it's a lot better than I expected.

This Is My Life, Rated
Life:	7.4
Mind:	7.4
Body:	4.2
Spirit:	6
Friends/Family:	6.8
Love:	9.1
Finance:	9
Take the Rate My Life Quiz

At the same time, I remain incredibly busy. But, as the table seems to suggest, I'm doing well.

I hope your results are even better than mine.

Boy what a month

2008-03-23T22:26:00.002-04:00

Holy crap. I don’t know if you check here very often or not, but if you do, you’ve probably been wondering where I’ve been.

It’s been one heck of a March here at Casa de Jorge. When we last talked, Mona was off work with depression, the Peanut was sick and I was busy and had a back ache.

The Peanut was sick for about 2 weeks with some kind of unpleasant virus that turned, as usual, into an ear infection. She had a visit to the ENT who wanted to schedule a time to put tubes in her ears. I didn’t make it to the appointment because of work, and Mona said she didn’t care for the Doc. I’m anti-tubes anyway, expect as a last resort. That, in my opinion, is the problem with surgeons in general. They just want to get in there and cut. OK, I get it, they are surgeons after all, but sometimes I wonder at point in med school do they have their humanity excised. So we did another round of antibiotics supplemented with an antibiotic shot and she seems to be fully recovered.

In the meantime both Mona and I got sick. We both had some kind of unpleasant bug, with all that generally accompanies your basic winter sickness. I was pretty miserable, and school was not easy. 14 hour days do nothing whatsoever to help you get over a cold. Or flu, or whatever it was. I finally broke down and went to the walk in clinic. The Doc there said it was a sinus infection (I still have my doubts) and wrote me for 14 days of Bactrim. After I left I called home and told Mona what he gave me and she reminded me that Bactrim has some really unpleasant side effects for me. So I called my soon to be sister in law and asked her to call in a Z-pack for me. She’s a physician, but as a specialist is not much help when someone is just under the weather. I’m sure she does great work in her field, but I doubt I’ll ever find myself in her office for treatment.

And in the meantime Mona, in addition to her depression, felt more or less the same as I did. So she basically spent nearly two weeks in bed. She went back to work last Tuesday and was basically miserable. While she was out they posted her job (she found it on Monster.com) and she pretty much decided she was going to quit. Then on Friday she had her evaluation. It was her 6 month review. She had a great 90 day review and this one was a complete 180. She had planned to give her notice that day, but after the review she decided that she would finish the day and leave. So that’s it, she’s now unemployed. I’m really glad she left when she did. With the recent snow here she would have been going in at midnight or two AM to dispatch the plows again. It worked out well I think. I told her while she was home that it was fine with me if she quit. She only took this job because it looked like it suited her and I was a) on the verge of losing my job and b) expecting to be going to nursing school full time right about now. Since neither of those things happened I told her it was pointless to stay there. This was the best time to look for a job, while I still had mine and we could afford to have her unemployed.

One of the lessons we learned was about working as a contract employee. She was contracted to an extremely large, locally headquartered company through an agency that rhymes with “smelly”. It turns out that they can provide employees at a lower cost because the benefit packages suck. To maintain coverage for the family it would cost almost 25% of her total pay annually. Add day care in and we would have been struggling while I was in school. Fortunately we don’t have to worry about that now. With 12 months or so to find another job I’m sure she can find something more suitable.

Last Wednesday she had an interview with another department at my company. She interviewed for a customer service job. I thought she would be a good fit and talked with the hiring manager who agreed to look at her resume. She was called for an interview and she felt it went well. I really hope she’s right.

Not only would it get her out of the industry she’s in (a less professional industry I can’t imagine) but it would mean we keep our same benefits when I leave. And I work for a Fortune 50 or so company, which means pretty solid benefits. Plus it’s a pretty good place to work. The people are friendly and the managers are all good at their jobs. In the field where Mona works now it is not unusual for women to go home crying. I imagine the men go home angry. I really hope she gets the job.

Right now, I’m in the basement with the TV on mute, listening to The Peanut absolutely howling. Her bedroom in on the second floor and I can hear her over the monitor in the kitchen. She really has no interest in going to bed and is fighting it with everything she has. This is very unusual. Normally we put her down and she goes right out. We even expect her to sleep a minimum of about 11 or 12 hours. But not tonight I think. We’ve been up to check on her a couple of times. We’ve changed her, given her milk, sang songs and given her as much comforting as we know how. We also gave her some gas drops just in case. But it looks to me like she is just pissed about being put to bed. We’re only 4 months short of having a two year old, and I think we’re getting a preview of the terrible twos. Man, you ought to hear her yell. She is really screaming up there. I expect to have to go up there again within the next 30 minutes at the most if she doesn’t settle down.

Wow, it’s really sounding bad. She sounds like she’s gasping and now it’s back to frantic. If I didn’t know better I’d worry there was someone taking a chainsaw to her. Mona is concerned, and I understand it. But I don’t think there’s much we can to short of letting her come downstairs to play. And I just can’t see giving in to the demands of a toddler. Even if it is 10 PM. We’ll see.

OK, just took a 20 minute break to go back upstairs. Mona gave The Peanut a massage after I checked her to see if she showed any signs of pain. She didn’t. So we put her back down and so far so good. I hope it sticks this time. It really is unusual for her to be so upset.

Anyway, that’s the short version of what’s been going on. I’ll try and keep up with the updates as much as I can. Hopefully I’ll have some more time now that Mona will be managing the house while I handle work and school. Let’s keep our fingers crossed, OK?

My avatar

2008-03-08T02:14:00.002-05:00

I'm just curious. Does anyone know who this guy is? (I do.)

A lesser man would have broken by now.

2008-03-08T01:54:00.002-05:00

Would it surprise you to hear that things have been really busy lately? Yeah, didn’t think so. But I’m going to try and get you up to speed.

I’ve talked before about having to work harder for a boss with high expectations. That hasn’t changed. If anything he seems to continually raise his expectations. This week he’s asked me to be a mentor to a “new” hire. New is in quotes because the lady I’m mentoring has been with my company for 10 years. She just transferred into my group this month. Before she joined the company she worked at another company we all know for 32 years before retiring. So she’s been working since before I was born. And I’m her mentor? Most of the mentoring is really about systems and procedures, so it’s no big deal. My job is just to give her an idea of how get the administrative part of our job done. I like it, but it sucks up a few hours of my time every week. The boss has laid down a few more expectations too. Nothing big, but again, challenging. I’m still pretty amazed what it’s done for my morale. I am really happy in my work for the first time in a while.

School seems to be going well too. I’m getting A’s, although in Anatomy only barely. I don’t study all that much and most of what I do is last minute type stuff. But, like I said, as long as I get a B- I’m good. I’ve worked out a count down to the minimum number of points I need in the class to get that grade. It’s completely doable I think. Microbiology is a guaranteed A. It’s an easy class and the instructor makes it pretty damn hard to fail. Plus I enjoy the lectures. The instructor is gay and to me is a cross between Paul Lind and Jim J. Bullock. He’s entertaining in a subject that could easily be tedious.

Home is really the toughest part of my life. Mona has really had a hard time this winter. Since she has to dispatch snowplows when the weather gets bad she has been going in to work odd, and often long, hours. The fact that this is one of the snowiest winters on record has not helped matters. The last I saw we’re just under the 5’ mark for the season. (Luckily we’ve had a couple of melts; otherwise we’d be in real trouble.) What really makes things difficult is that she is not a winter person. She really likes the sun, and the more sunshine she gets the better. The funny thing to me is the fact that she’s an Irish red head. If she leaves the house between June and August I have to dress her up in welding gear just to make sure she doesn’t burst into flames. Actually I have to insist she wear sun screen. She doesn’t care for it, but most of the time I get my way. I, on the other hand, prefer the indoors although with my olive complexion I rarely burn. Anyway, Mona has always suffered a little from the winter blahs. But this year it’s been bad. Add the blahs to her funky schedule and her desire to still be at home with The Peanut full time, my time away from the family for school and a possible (fairly minor) autoimmune illness she’s had some trouble with depression. I finally got upset with her about 2 weeks ago. I told her I was tired of all the crying and sleeping and all the rest. I insisted she talk with her doctor. She went in this week and was given some anti-depressants and more importantly a note for 2 weeks off work.

She’s somewhat upset and embarrassed about being off, and to a certain extent I understand that. She said today that she is concerned that I’m unhappy about our problems, specifically her time off. I told her that she was exactly wrong. The fact that she sought treatment and is making progress makes me very happy. I’m not expecting overnight miracles but any step forward is a step in the right direction.

She was seen on Tuesday night. Earlier that day The Peanut was sent home sick from daycare with a fever and cough. We got her in to the doctor on Wednesday. They took a chest x-ray to rule out pneumonia, told us it was a virus and told us to give her plenty of fluids and bring her back on Saturday if the fever hadn’t broken. We’ll be headed over there in the morning. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Wednesday evening Mona was feeling pretty rough; mostly from the new meds (which she’ll be off in the spring) so I picked up some carry out from a really good Chinese place not far from home. It was later in the evening because I was at work longer than usual; trying to catch up on all the stuff I didn’t get done in the morning due to The Peanuts doctor visit and an appointment with a customer. Because she wasn’t feeling great, The Peanut was not interested in dinner and really wanted to be held. It didn’t matter to her that Mommy and Daddy wanted to scarf down some dinner. We eat in the kitchen usually. We have a counter with a couple of bar stools that we use instead of the dining room. So I had The Peanut on my right knee and was turned away from the counter enough to keep busy hands out of our dinners while I ate with my left hand.

Have you ever held on to a water balloon that wasn’t knotted and felt it drain? That’s what it felt like when The Peanut yakked. She managed to miss the food but hit the counter and the floor and got a little on the dog too.

We got her cleaned up and managed to finish dinner. Then I went and got some pedialite and put her to bed.

And that’s how Mona and I spent our 3rd wedding anniversary. What can I say? We’re true romantics.

Anyway, the next two days were pretty much the same, Mona at home with a sick peanut and me out selling stuff and trying to win as much bread as I can.

To top it off, my backs been bugging me again. I'm certain it's weight related, but nonetheless it hurts. It only really hurts at night. Getting out of bed in the morning is rather painful. Vicodin is getting me through the day, and by the time it wears off in the evening everything has loosened up to the point that I feel pretty good. And then I go to bed and we start the cycle all over.

I think after we get back from the doctors office tomorrow I'm going to talk to Mona about getting a new TENS machine. It's a little device that works off a 9 volt battery and sends a mild electric current through electrodes you place around the injured area. I have one now but the wires are breaking and I don't know if I can replace them. It's very effective for me and is, in my opinion, an excellent alternative to medication.

So now you're up to speed.

What have you been up to?

I don't care what anyone says, rubbin' is racin'

2008-02-26T22:30:00.002-05:00

I recently saw a conversational aside talking about driving in a city that I’ve visited a number of times and it got me thinking.

In another life I was an outside sales rep with a 13 state territory. In addition I would occasionally be sent to places outside my territory if there was a need. I used to work regularly in Boston, New York City, Long Island, New Jersey, Philadelphia, Washington DC, Richmond, Atlanta, Louisville, Lexington, Buffalo, Cincinnati, Cleveland, Indianapolis, Chicago, Milwaukee, Pittsburgh and Morgantown WV, and Toronto. On an ad hoc basis I also was sent to Memphis, L.A., Honolulu, and Seattle. With the exception of Boston and the ad hoc cities where I rented cars when necessary, I drove to all the rest of those places.

In my opinion, most of the places that are notorious for being difficult to drive in, aren’t. Boston is congested, but it’s not rough. The same for New York. The only borough I didn’t drive in was Staten Island. I found that even in Manhattan people aren’t nearly as aggressive as we often hear.

I found Pittsburgh a challenge, but only because it’s very difficult to turn around if you make a wrong turn. But that’s more about terrain than anything else.

L.A. was no big deal and neither was Atlanta. Both could be congested as well, but with reasonable traffic I never found any real craziness.

In my opinion, the two worst places to drive were Ohio and Indiana. Indianapolis is a slow driving city. I think it has to do with so many people not being sure what time zone they’re in.

And somehow people in Ohio seem to have been bred with some sort of pathological aversion to speed. Couple this with Yield signs on the bottom of on ramps and you have a recipe for disaster. I just go nuts when I have to drive through there. But if you're reading this and you're an Ohio resident I’m begging you- speed it up a little, will you? It’ll be OK, I promise.

The best and fastest driving that I used to see was in Chicago. If the traffic was moving, it was moving at 75 to 80 MPH. 4 or 5 lanes of traffic with half a car length between cars and everyone flying… man it’s great. And it works.
The other place is Detroit. We generally drive pretty fast here, and it seems to work pretty well too. I’m of the opinion that if you aren’t willing to take a life to shave two minutes off your travel time then get off the road.

On a more serious note, I really do think that if you're so scared when you drive that you refuse to stay with the traffic then you really shouldn’t be driving. If you can’t stay with the traffic stay out of the left lane. Don’t slow down to change lanes. It’s a good rule of thumb that the brake will get you into more trouble than the gas will.

What about you? What have you seen when you drive? Where do you fit in? What places do you just not want to drive in?

Dilbert, Saturday, February 23

2008-02-23T19:17:00.003-05:00

Have you been reading Dilbert lately?

Today's strip totally killed me. In my opinion it's one of the best punchlines ever written in the history of mankind.

If you're not familiar with the premise of the strip, check out the link to the Dilbert Blog on the right. It's basically the artists take on a real story about a guy in Iowa who lost his job for posting a Dilbert strip on an office bulletin board comparing managers to drunken lemurs.

EDIT: Here's the link: http://www.dilbert.com/comics/dilbert/archive/dilbert-20080223.html

I just love today's joke. That's going up in my office.

Do long absences make the heart grow fonder?

2008-02-23T19:15:00.001-05:00

It’s been a while since I’ve had the time or, frankly, the inclination to post anything original.

Oh, it’s not that I’m getting bored with the Jorge Experience., quite the contrary. For the last week or so we’ve been dealing with the flu at Casa de Jorge. The thing that really annoys me about the whole thing is that all the humans in the house had flu shots this year. It does seem however, that our symptoms were much less severe than my mother-in-laws, (she got it from us) who was not inoculated this year.

Here’s what happened.

On Saturday Mona had a massage scheduled for 11:30 with some massage therapist in Plymouth. For those of you not familiar with the area it’s a 20 to 30 minute drive from our house.

Sort of on the spur of the moment she also decided to get her legs waxed. She doesn’t shave them, and it was several months since the last waxing. Her legs were just as hairy as mine, but lucky for her she’s got light hair and you don’t really notice. Plus she never exposes her legs during the winter. Ever. And she only rarely does in the summer for that matter. It’s my fault really, I knew she was a hippie when I married her. One day I’m going to follow through on my threat to stop shaving my face until she starts shaving her legs.

Anyway, she took off around 10 am. I hung out with The Peanut, straightened up the house, did the dishes and started working through the laundry. I got some lunch into The Peanut and put her down for a nap and continued my chores.

Around quarter to 2:00 Mona called and asked if I’d had lunch yet. Hell yes I did. I was a little annoyed that I hadn’t gotten a status update before then. She called when she was a half a mile from the house. And she was calling to tell me that she had scheduled a hair cut for 3:00. That kind of pissed me off.

I knew that she wanted the massage, and had no problem with it. But now she’s having a day of beauty and I’m stuck at home doing the housework. By the time she would get home it would be dinner time and then we’d have to put The Peanut to bed, which means that we’re home for the night.
I knew (and so did Mona) that I was going to spend a good chunk of Sunday studying for 2 tests in my anatomy class, which was going to blow Sunday. That basically shot my weekend in the ass. Shit.

So Mona went to bed around 8 or 9 as usual. I stayed up till 11 or so. Then around 3 or 4 I hear her calling me. She’s in the bathroom throwing up. There was nothing I could do, but she claims she feels better with me in there. Crazy, I know. So there I am, standing behind her, turning on the exhaust fan and handing her the occasional Kleenex.

By morning it’s apparent that she’s sick. So I’m in charge again. She stayed in bed until 11. Her mom was supposed to come over in the morning and take The Peanut overnight. The next day was Presidents Day and the daycare was closed for a Teacher Development Day. Mom agreed to keep The Peanut on Monday so that both of us could go to work.

Morning turned out to be 2 in the afternoon. By this time I was getting pretty frustrated. I really needed to get some study time in. My plan had been to leave in the morning and head somewhere quiet. With Mona out of action there was no way I could study and leave The Peanut to her own devices. So now most of the day was shot in the ass.

Mom was 30 minutes overdue (not counting the 2 or 3 hours that had passed since “morning”) and I couldn’t find the phone with the caller ID to call and ask “WTF?” Mona, you see, is incapable of putting any object a) back where she found it or b) in the same place twice. And since she was sick she wasn’t getting up to join in the search. I was so pissed that I couldn’t find the “page” button on the base to get the phone beeping. I about lost it at that point. The missing phone was the last straw. Mom showed up just as I located the phone and all I could do was glower and grumble. Mom noticed I was pissed (not like it wasn’t obvious) and was offended. She was sure it was all about her. I didn’t care. After she left I told Mona why I was pissed (somewhat harshly) and went to Borders to study. But I was so pissed I knew that wasn’t going to happen so I just browsed for half an hour.

By then the guilt had set in and I went home and apologized. After a nice long talk I headed out again. This time I ended up at a nearby Caribou Coffee. I went there because they were the only coffee house I could find that sold Diet Coke. I don’t drink coffee. There were several people in there studying or staring intently at their laptops. I figured I’d be able to work with little distraction, but was soon proven wrong. Just as I got my self organized it seemed like quite time was over. More people came in, some to meet with the studiers, and began to have quite conversations AT THE TOP OF THEIR LUNGS.

So I packed up my stuff and went next door to Au Bon Pain. I spent about an hour and a half to two hours there when Mona called asking about dinner. So I packed my stuff and went to the grocery store (I had asked her to email me a shopping list).

Later that night I started to get sick. I worked a half day on Monday then went home, took a nap and went to school. I did fine on the first test as near as I can guess. Tuesday I pretty much just phoned in and the rest of the week wasn’t too much different. Wednesday was the low point, but I made it to school for that evenings test and again, think I did OK.

I guess I started to feel better by yesterday. The Peanut seems to have recovered and so does Mona. My mother-in-law was so sick by Tuesday that she told Mona at one point she considered calling an Ambulance. She didn’t, and her physician has given her an official diagnosis of the flu, so she’s been off work most of the week.

There’s still lots more drama, but that’s the gist of things.

How’ve you been?

Bar Stool Economics

2008-02-20T12:46:00.001-05:00

Someone sent me this recently and it makes perfect sense to me. It was attributed to David R. Kamerschen, Ph.D. Professor of Economics, University of Georgia, but I can’t confirm that.

Suppose that every day, ten men go out for beer and the bill for all ten comes to $100. If they paid their bill the way we pay our taxes, it would go something like this:

The first four men (the poorest) would pay nothing.
The fifth would pay $1.
The sixth would pay $3.
The seventh would pay $7.
The eighth would pay $12.
The ninth would pay $18
.The tenth man (the richest) would pay $59.

So, that's what they decided to do.

The ten men drank in the bar every day and seemed quite happy with the arrangement, until one day, the owner threw them a curve. He said, 'Since you are all such good customers, I'm going to reduce the cost of your daily beer by $20. Drinks for the ten now cost just $80.'

The group still wanted to pay their bill the way we pay our taxes, so the first four men were unaffected. They would still drink for free.

But what about the other six men -- the paying customers?How could they divide the $20 windfall so that everyone would get his 'fair share'?

They realized that $20 divided by six is $3.33.

But if they subtracted that from everybody's share, then the fifth man and the sixth man would each end up being paid to drink his beer.

So the bar owner suggested that it would be fair to reduce each man's bill by roughly the same amount, and he proceeded to work out the amounts each should pay!

And so:
The fifth man, like the first four, now paid nothing (100% savings).
The sixth now paid $2 instead of $3 (33%savings).
The seventh now paid $5 instead of $7 (28%savings).
The eighth now paid $9 instead of $12 (25% savings).
The ninth now paid $14 instead of $18 (22% savings).
The tenth now paid $49 instead of $59 (16% savings).

Each of the six was better off than before. And the first four continued to drink for free.

But once outside the restaurant, the men began to compare their savings.

'I only got a dollar out of the $20,' declared the sixth man. He pointed to the tenth man, 'but he got $10!'

'Yeah, that's right,' exclaimed the fifth man. 'I only saved a dollar, too. It's unfair that he got ten times more than I!'

'That's true!!'shouted the seventh man. 'Why should he get $10 back when I got only $2? The wealthy get all the breaks!'

'Wait a minute,' yelled the first four men in unison. 'We didn't get anything at all. The system exploits the poor!'

The nine men surrounded the tenth and beat him up.

The next night the tenth man didn't show up for drinks, so the nine sat down and had beers without him.

But when it came time to pay the bill, they discovered something important.

They didn't have enough money between all of them for even half of the bill!

And that, boys and girls, journalists and college professors, is how our tax system works. The people who pay the highest taxes get the most benefit from a tax reduction. Tax them too much, attack them for being wealthy, and they just may not show up any more. In fact, they might start drinking overseas where the atmosphere is somewhat friendlier.

So there you go. That’s why the biggest tax breaks always go to the richest 1%. What I don’t get is why don’t millions of registered voters understand this?

Lord I miss Ronald Reagan.

Hidden treasure

2008-02-12T10:31:00.000-05:00

I love old houses and cool architecture. It kills me to see all the old, once gorgeous homes in Detroit that have been neglected, abandoned or burnt to ashes.

My wife and I used to drive around to some of the really cool neighborhoods and look at places that we'd love to live in, provided we had a good alarm system, a pit bull and plenty of ammo.

Every now and then I see a place that really gets my attention, as happened last week. To see what I found, click on the link to Google Maps and enter the intersection I have listed below. Then go to street view and take a good look.

http://maps.google.com

Grand River Ave & Rosa Parks Blvd, Detroit, MI 48208

Is that place cool or what?

Here's my question. There’s no business signage anywhere. What is that place? Is it still a home?

Don't have gun, will travel.

2008-02-12T08:23:00.000-05:00

This is going to be a short one, I’ve been pretty busy lately.

Anyway, as you may or may not know I took a lateral demotion at work just before the end of the year. I know that doesn’t make much sense, but I’ll explain.

I was selling to Fortune 500 accounts originally. Auto companies, conglomerates, defense contractors, technology companies, what have you. If they’re listed on the Dow or NASDAQ chances are I would have called on them. Anyway, I struggled with that position. Mostly because I was coasting last year, figuring that I would be quitting in April of this year to return to school.

The company decided that since I wasn’t doing so well in the corporate area that they would allow me to move over to accounts from the fortune 1000 on down to small businesses. So that’s where I am now. Other than a change in title and account base, nothing has changed for me. I have the same base salary and commission structure and a lower quota. Last week I told Mona that this is the best my morale has been in a while. I’m pretty happy in this job, at least for now.

Now on to the story.

When I moved into the new spot, I was assigned a new territory by zip codes. Among a few other areas I was given the entire city of Detroit. Even though it’s slowly crumbling, there is still a lot of business being done, even outside of Downtown. And outside of Downtown is where the job took me last week.

I had called a guy looking for business the week before and since I was in the area I decided to stop in and talk with him. He’s sort of in the recycling business. I don’t want to say much more than that, but he at one time used to pay cash for the recyclables that people brought to him. The sign on the building now says they pay with Checks Only, No Cash.

So I rang the bell and the owner’s son let me in. He took me into a dingy office and we sat down by the desk to talk. Can you guess what I saw when I looked into the foot well of the desk? Yep. A pistol grip shot gun clipped there, in case of emergency. When I mentioned it, the son was pretty casual about it and then pointed out the pistol under his shirt as well. Hmph. Well.

Apparently the owner got shot about a year ago. That’s when they stopped paying cash for goods. He was shot in the belly, which I’m told was “lucky”, since it missed his heart and spine. Grrrreat.

So we got down to business, talked for a while, and then I was escorted out. The armed customer stood in the door and kept an eye on me until I was in the car.

Later, I called my boss and told him that if my customers were going to have guns then I wanted one too. So far he isn’t budging.

And that’s my new job. I go into one of the most dangerous cities in the developed world in a small car, wearing a suit and tie and try and sell things to people who at any minute may find themselves in the middle of an honest to God firefight.

Outside of the whole potential gunfight thing, I actually really like what I’m doing and the kinds of customers I now have. A guy who can decide whether or not he needs to shoot someone is not a person who dithers about making a buying decision, whereas someone in a mega-corporation usually looks for a way to not do anything that may draw attention to him or her self.

Strange, the things which make me happy.

What about you? What about your work do you enjoy that might seem a bit odd?

The big picture

2008-01-30T14:30:00.000-05:00

I’m wondering about the broader implications of the latest round of buyouts at Ford Motor. For those of you who haven’t heard, Ford offered its 54000 hourly workers generous buyouts. The buyouts were agreed to by the UAW. Ford will replace the people who leave with new workers at about half the cost of the current ones. And it’s my understanding that GM and Chrysler are doing the same thing. Chrysler is even asking the UAW to extend the buyouts to a larger part of their workforce.

If the people who take the buyout are replaced by other workers at a substantially lower cost what is that going to mean over the next 20 years? Sure it will lower the costs of making an automobile, but will that translate into less expensive vehicles? I doubt that. It’s good for the stockholders in the short term. In the mid-term I guess I can see less rapid price increases but the manufacturers aren’t going to let their margins shrink too much.

Will other industries follow? If they do, what effect will this have on the middle class? I am a firm believer that the unions born in the early part of the last century are directly responsible for the American dream that my parents lived, even though they weren’t union workers. America is what it is largely due to the unions. They moved skilled and more significantly, unskilled labor into the middle class and reduced the gap between rich and poor.

If other industries follow I think that it could lead to significant wage gap between what is now the middle class and the upper middle class. It will mean a serious shift of the tax burden and possibly even some deflation. Pushed far enough it could even shrink the middle class. That, in my opinion, would be disastrous. America is what it is precisely because we have a large and prosperous middle class. Without it, our economy slows considerable and the standard of living has the potential to decline, which, it turn I fear, would lead to an even larger government trying even less successfully to redistribute wealth.

Will it strengthen the unions in the long run since they will now have things to bargain for again or will or will they continue to weaken? If the unions play their cards right they can use this to their advantage. In the last 20 years or more they haven’t had a lot to ask for. Wages were high, jobs were protected, and they had to ask for extra days off to vote or go hunting just so they could go to the bargaining table with something. After all, what do you get for the person who has everything?

In my opinion it made them appear greedy and grasping. In fact I resented the unions because they seemed out of control. They were no longer protecting workers, they were wagging the dog. And the dog went along with it.

Now they’re back to representing the underdogs. They’re back to doing what they were created to do. If they can push wages back up in the coming years we might see a return to the strong unions of the 1950’s.

If they roll over too much the could be made irrelevant by non-union shops offering higher wages and better benefits than what union workers are given. Smart employers with some foresight and an interest in managing people who are both happy and productive are the biggest threat to a union. Of course if all employers did that we wouldn’t have unions in the first place.

If wages do fall across the board will that make US products more competitive globally? To a certain extent it should. But I doubt that wages will fall enough for the US to compete for manufacturing plants with developing nations or even some of the yet to be exploited 3rd world nations who would love to have a factory or two where their people could work. It could help the trade deficit though if foreign goods become less affordable and U.S. goods and services become cheap enough to be attractive in overseas markets.

Will it lead to a return of some of those jobs that have been off-shored? In some cases it might. I think white color fields like engineering and customer service type work might show back up. I doubt that many manufacturing jobs would return. Those wages are entirely too disparate, even if costs in the US are cut in half. The only thing I can see making a real difference (barring unionization of the entire third world) is a huge increase in the cost of fuel. It would have to be a large enough increase to make ocean freight costs unreasonable, and if it gets to that point I think we’ll have bigger problems than not being able to import foreign goods.

Oh, I know we’ll muddle through, but politics aside, I really am curious about what this country is going to look like in the next 20 to 50 years.

I'm not kidding.

2008-01-28T22:32:00.000-05:00

I fully intend to use this. I got it from a friend who said he had his attorney draft it. Looks official enough to me.

APPLICATION FOR PERMISSION TO DATE MY DAUGHTER

NOTE: This application will be incomplete and rejected unless accompanied by a complete financial statement, job history, lineage, and current medical report from your doctor.

NAME_____________________________________

DATE OF BIRTH_____________

HEIGHT___________ WEIGHT____________

IQ__________ GPA_____________

SOCIAL SECURITY #_________________

DRIVERS LICENSE#________________

BOY SCOUT RANK AND BADGES__________________________________________

HOME ADDRESS_______________________

CITY/STATE___________ ZIP______

Do you have parents? ___Yes ___No

Number of years they have been married:

If less than your age, explain:

ACCESSORIES SECTION:

A. Do you own or have access to a van? __Yes __No

B. A truck with oversize tires? __Yes __No

C. A waterbed? __Yes __No

D. A pickup with a mattress in the back? __Yes __No

E. A tattoo? __Yes __No

F. Do you have an earring, nose ring, pierced tongue, pierced cheek or a belly button ring? __Yes __No

(IF YOU ANSWERED 'YES' TO ANY OF THE ABOVE, DISCONTINUE APPLICATION AND LEAVE PREMISES IMMEDIATELY. IT IS IN YOUR BEST INTEREST TO DO SO AT A RUN. WALKING WILL ONLY GIVE ME TIME TO CONSTRUCT AN ALIBI.)

ESSAY SECTION:

In 50 words or less, what does 'LATE’ mean to you?

In 50 words or less, what does 'DON'T TOUCH MY DAUGHTER' mean to you?

In 50 words or less, what does ‘ABSTINENCE' mean to you?

REFERENCES SECTION:

Church you attend

How often you attend

When would be the best time to interview your:

Father?

Mother?

Pastor?

SHORT-ANSWER SECTION:
Please answer freely, all answers are confidential.

A: If I were shot, the last place I would want shot would be:

B: If I were beaten, the last bone I would want broken is my:

C: A woman's place is in the:

D: The one thing I hope this application does not ask me about is:

E. What do you want to do IF you grow up?

F. When I meet a girl, the thing I always notice about her first is:

G. What is the going rate of a hotel room?

I SWEAR THAT ALL INFORMATION SUPPLIED ABOVE IS TRUE AND CORRECT TO THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE UNDER PENALTY OF DEATH, DISMEMBERMENT,NATIVE AMERICAN ANT TORTURE, CRUCIFIXION, ELECTROCUTION, CHINESE WATER TORTURE, RED HOT POKERS, AND HILLARY CLINTON KISS TORTURE.

_________________________________________________________
Applicant's Signature

Mother's Signature

Father's Signature

State Representative/Congressman Signature

Thank you for your interest, and it had better be genuine and non-sexual. Please allow four to six years for processing.You will be contacted in writing if you are approved. Please do not try to call or write. If your application is rejected, you will be notified in person by two large gentlemen wearing ski masks and driving a non-descript van.

In the unlikely event your application is accepted please study the following to prepare for your date.

Daddy's Rules for Dating

Rule One:If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.

Rule Two:You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.

Rule Three:I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.

Rule Four:I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a 'Barrier method' of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.

Rule Five:It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is: 'early.'

Rule Six:I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

Rule Seven:As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process than can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

Rule Eight:The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka - zipped up to her throat. Movies with strong romantic or sexual themes are to be avoided; movies which feature chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.

Rule Nine:Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding, middle-aged, dimwitted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.

Rule Ten:Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy near Saigon. When my Agent Orange starts acting up the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit the car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, and then return to your car - there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.

The tough questions

2008-01-27T20:59:00.000-05:00

Sunday afternoon I called my wife on her cell phone to ask her a question. I said this exactly: “I’m going to ask you a question and I’d like you to be completely honest with me. Why me?” Don’t panic. The rest of the story is actually pretty funny.

My sister-in-law was scheduled for a c-section on Tuesday the 22nd. Saturday night my wife and I dropped The Peanut off at her grandmother’s house and spent the day getting caught up on the house work and just hanging out together. We had planned to spend some time together on Sunday too, picking The Peanut up after lunch.

Naturally on Sunday morning the phone rang at 7am. My sister-in-law had gone into labor late Saturday night and had already had her c-section at a large hospital in downtown Detroit. Her seven year old daughter Riley was at home asleep, being looked after by her adult half-brother. A plan was made. Mona and I would head to my sister-in-laws house where I would pick up The Peanut and Riley and take them to our house. Mom and Mona would head down to the hospital.

OK, no problem. I can handle this. So I take the girls back to our place, feed them lunch and then we head downstairs to watch movies and play. Riley, out of nowhere, tells me that she’s worried about her mom and baby sister because the baby was early. Riley was something like 8 weeks premature. She spent some time in the NICU and is still somewhat frail. So I had a talk with her and explained how babies grow and the difference between being 8 weeks early and 2 days early. I even showed her some pictures (drawings) in my anatomy text book. That seemed to make her feel better.

A little while later it’s time for The Peanut to nap.

A bit after that, Riley asks for a snack. So we head up to the kitchen and I whomp up a PB&J. As she’s eating, Riley looks at me and asks “How do babies come out?” Shit. The Peanut is a year and a half old. I shouldn’t have to have this talk with a little kid for years yet. I chickened out, and since I knew that Riley was aware that her mom was having the c-section I told her that her mom was having an operation. She pointed to a spot on her tummy and asked “from right here?” She was pretty much in the right spot, so I said yes, feeling good about answering her question and dodging a bullet at the same time. She took a few more bites and then (I bet you saw this coming) asked “What about other times?” Shit, shit, shit!

I believe in telling little kids as much as they want to know when it comes to basic facts, and I try to overestimate how much they’ll understand. I didn’t want to have this talk, but I felt that lying to her with some kind of cabbage leaf / stork story would be wrong and telling her to ask her mother would also be an act of moral cowardice. So I took a deep breath and went and got the anatomy book again.

It had a cutaway drawing of a birth. I pointed out the basic land marks, “here’s the mommy’s leg, here’s her tummy” and showed used a teddy bear alongside the book (there was no stand-in for the mommy) to explain it. I know I showed her where the pee comes from, where the poop comes from, and how the baby came from a spot in between. She said “From the privates?” I said yes, and asked if she had any more questions. She didn’t and we went back to playing pac-man.

Later, I called Mona and asked her “Why me?” She laughed and gave me some sympathy. Then Riley asked to talk with Mona and proceeded to ask her the same question over the phone. I ended up apologizing to Mona and trying to explain that I had no idea that was coming.

The next day was MLK day, and since I was the nearest family member who wasn’t working I went to the hospital to help my sister-in-law with her newest, Hannah. If you haven’t had a baby in a while, you might not know that a lot of hospitals leave the baby in the room with Mom unless they need to run a test. New parents do all the feeding, changing and comforting right from the get-go. I didn’t do much since the S-I-L was still on pain killers most of the morning, but I ran little errands (get me some ice chips) followed the baby to the nursery when she got her 24 hr. blood work done and passed her to the S-I-L when it was feeding time. No big deal.

In the afternoon the nurse pulled the IV morphine and my S-I-L started to become more alert. Once she was awake I teased her a little and told her she owed me for the conversation I had with Riley. She didn’t laugh, but she did tell me that she and Riley had talked about this already.

It seems that Riley knows what happens, but I don’t think she wants to accept it. And I suppose that’s OK, since she’s, you know, seven.

So how did I do? What would you have done? Have you ever been caught off guard by a kid with a Serious Question? How did you handle it?

I’m interested to hear all your storys.

Jorge-ology

2008-01-25T21:44:00.000-05:00

Even though I generally ignore these kinds of things, the following survey interested me for reasons I still don’t understand. So I copied this from Kathleen who took it from Fermi, who ripped it off from LL, who got it from Sunshine. No tagging, just a survey with random questions. Copy the list, edit the answers, and call it your name with "ology" on the end.

MOUTHOLOGY

Q. What is your salad dressing of choice?
A. Generally Blue Cheese

Q. What is your favorite fast food restaurant?
A. McDonalds or Moe’s

Q. What is your favorite sit down restaurant?
A. Thai Peppers in Farmington Hills

Q. On average, what size tip do you leave at a restaurant?
A. 20-25%

Q. What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick of?
A1. Bulgarian or Danish Feta, Black Olives, Greek Bread and Diet Coke.
A2. Almost anything raw. Kibbee, Sushi, Carpaccio, etc.

Q. What are your pizza toppings of choice?
A1. From a store- Pepperoni, Mushrooms, Green Olives, yellow peppers
A2. If I make it- Pesto sauce with garlic, artichoke hearts, mushrooms, feta and spinach

Q. What do you like to put on your toast?
A. Butter

TECHNOLOGY

Q. What is your wallpaper on your computer?A. A grouper photographed while diving in the Bahamas

Q. How many televisions are in your house?
A. Two. But the second is in the guest room. I’d like a flat screen for the bedroom one day as well.

BIOLOGY

Q. Are you right-handed or left-handed?
A. Left

Q. Have you ever had anything removed from your body?
A. tonsils and adenoids

Q. When was the last time you had a cavity?
A. Three to four years.

Q. What is the last heavy item you lifted?
A. Define heavy. Maybe boxed furniture from Ikea between Christmas and New Years.

Q. Have you ever been knocked unconscious?
A. Never. It may not be possible. There’s something like 8 Lbs of pure Macedonian concrete held up by my neck. As far as I know it will stand up to anything short of a direct hit from Chuck Norris. Check the link, it’s not what you think it is. You’ll laugh. I promise.

BULLCRAPOLOGY

Q. If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die?
A. I don’t think so.

Q. If you could change your name, what would you change it to?
A. Alejandro Tyrone Lipschutz III. Skip for short.

Q. What color do you think looks best on you?
A. Someone once told me gray with a little blue in it looked good. I have no idea.

Q. Have you ever swallowed a non-food item by mistake?
A. Not as far as I know. But then I’ve heard that we all eat spiders accidentally when we sleep. Are arachnids an official food?

Q. Have you ever saved someone’s life?
A. Possibly. But it’s hard to say for sure. As a SCUBA instructor you try and intervene before it gets definite.

Q. Has someone ever saved yours?
A. Yes. I was seriously ill as a child. The doctors and nurses at Childrens Hospital pulled me through.

DAREOLOGY

Q. Would you kiss a member of the same sex for $100?
A. Maybe. But no tounge.

Q. Would you allow one of your little fingers to be cut off for $200,000?
A. Probably not. I might look silly holding a tea cup without extending a pinky.

Q. Would you never blog again for $50,000?
A. You bet.

Q. Would you pose naked in a magazine for $250,000?
A. In a heart beat.

Q. Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000?
A. Sure. Gimme the thousand.

Q. Would you, without fear of punishment, take a human life for $1,000,000?
A. Do I get to pick the guy I whack? How many turns do I get? Let’s start with child molesters and move on from there.

DUMBOLOGY

Q. What is in your left pocket?
A. Nothing right now, but usually my keys.

Q. Is Napoleon Dynamite actually a good movie?
A. There were some good bits.

Q. Do you have hardwood or carpet in your house?
A. Hardwood everywhere except the kitchen and bathrooms. And the basement has carpet.

Q. Do you sit or stand in the shower?
A. Stand.

Q. Would you live with roommates?
A. Do my wife, baby, dog and auxillary dog (cat) count?

Q. How many pairs of flip flops do you own?
A. Do I look like a hippy to you?

Q. Last time you had a run-in with the cops?
A. Over the summer. Got a ticket that was kind of BS.

Q. Who is number 1 on your Top 8?
A. What does this mean?

LASTOLOGY

Q: Last Friend you talked to?
A: My wife. Otherwise my brother.

Q: Last person who called you?
A: Again, my wife.

Q: Last person you hugged?
A: Still the wife.

Q: Last person to stick their foot in your face?
A: Are you sensing a pattern yet?

FAVORITOLOGY

Q: Number?
A: 27

Q: Season?
A: Spring

CURRENTOLOGY

Q: Missing someone?
A: Mom

Q: Mood?
A: Generally content with a small dose of discomfort.

Q: Listening to?
A: The baby monitor.

Q: Watching?
A: What I’m typing. I only do one thing at a time.

Q: Worrying about?
A: I don’t know if I’m worried, but I am wondering about the broader implications of the latest round of buyouts at Ford Motor. If the people who take the buyout are replaced by other workers at a substantially lower cost what is that going to mean over the next 20 years? Will other industries follow? What effect will this have on the middle class? Will it strengthen the unions in the long run since they will now have things to bargain for again or will or will they continue to weaken? If wages do fall across the board will that make US products more competitive globally? Will it lead to a return of some of those jobs that have been off-shored?

RANDOMOLOGY
Q: First place you went this morning?
A: Inside the house- The kitchen to make Mona’s lunch. Outside, daycare for The Peanut.

Q: What can you not wait to do?
A: I don’t know. I just know that I want to live forever. I want to know what happens.

Q: What's the last movie you saw in theater?
A: National Treasure: Book of Secrets. 3 hours ago.

Q: Do you smile often?
A: Yes.

Q: Are you a friendly person?
A: I think I’m a little laid back. My wife disagrees and claims I’m outgoing. I am generally predisposed to like everyone, so I guess she’s right and the answer is yes.

My little cartoon viewer

2008-01-24T16:57:00.000-05:00

What do you think of the little Dilbert viewer down there on the right hand side of your screen?

I thought it was pretty cool, and Dilbert speaks to me. (Not in a "he needs to be medicated" way, rather in a sprititual sense.)

Let me know.

How I got here.

2008-01-24T16:51:00.000-05:00

Since we’re talking about weddings already and this is the place where I say pretty much anything that comes to mind I thought I’d tell you how I met my wife.

Between the ages of puberty and 2003 I was not what you would call a successful dater. Sure, I’d have dates here and there. My longest dry spell was only 5 or 6 years. And there was the time when I instituted what has come to be known as “The Policy”, which basically said No More Dating. Ever.

In 1998 I went to work for a small company that gave me a 13 state territory and a basically unlimited travel budget. It was fun, but I didn’t have time to meet many girls. Then in the spring of 2003 I got laid off. It was actually one of the best things that ever happened to me.

I lost a bunch of weight, started exercising daily, hung out with friends and spent a lot of time at the SCUBA shop where I taught classes. I even dated a girl who was entirely too young for me. I had a decent severance package and after 2 months I pretty much knew I was going to get a job shortly, so the pressure was off. I called that summer “The Summer of Jorge”.

Two days after the big blackout of 2003 I went back to work. I now had a ton of money coming in and got a personal trainer and joined a gym. I lost more weight and was almost buff by January. But as was my custom, I had no date for New Years. I spent it at home, surfing the internet and opened a window to listen to the gunfire at midnight.

I decided that I wanted a serious girlfriend this year. I read a news story some time around then that a new online service called eHarmony was really popular with women and they outnumbered men something like 2 or 3 to one on the site, where as match.com numbers were much more heavily weighted to men. EHarmony looked like good odds to me.

So I went on the site and filled out the personality profile. I read the sales pitch info, and since I’m highly suggestible, signed up for the whole package. A one year subscription with the “free” books on marriage and dating from Dr. Warren.

Then I sat back and waited for matches. If you haven’t been on eHarmony, they do the matching for you. You don’t just “shop” at random.

I had a few matches and went through some few of the steps of communication with them. None of it went anywhere. Until the end of January. That’s when I was matched with Mona. On the surface we looked like opposites. She was in the Peace Corps. I would have been more likely to join the military. I was a SCUBA instructor; she didn’t much care for the water. Based on those things I doubt (and Mona agrees) that if we had been introduced by mutual friends or met at a party that neither of us would have been interested in the other. But we seemed to be pretty compatible despite the obvious differences. We went through the communication stages pretty quickly. Within a week we were sending one another emails through the site. After about 2 weeks we spoke on the phone and agreed to meet for lunch.

We had lunch in Novi on February 11th, 2004. I did most of the talking. I decided that I would ask her out again right there, even though the sparks weren’t flying. She agreed. And then when she got home she emailed me to apologize for being so quiet at lunch. She was very nervous and didn’t know what to say.

Since the upcoming weekend was Valentines we agreed to have a date on the 14th but to simply ignore the “holiday” as it would be too much pressure for a first and a half date. I was almost successful at ignoring it too. But I felt like I would be short changing any girl if I were to simply pretend that it wasn’t Valentines Day. So I made a decision. I would get her flowers (just a regular mixed bouquet, no roses) and some kind of little gift. I knew the gift had to be personal without being intimate. Chocolates were cliché, and jewelry would have been creepy at best. And then it hit me.

During one of our talks she told me that she had gotten a cordless drill for Christmas. She was astonished to find out that drills did not come with bits. As much as she wanted to make holes in things, she only had half of the tools she needed. So I went to Home Depot and bought her a pack of drill bits. That’s right, I bought her flowers and drill bits for Valentines Day.

We went to a comedy club and dinner that night. She was still quite and nervous, but better than at lunch. After that, one thing led to another. We were engaged by September and married the following March. That summer our stories were featured in a major newspaper and picked up on the AP wire in a number of smaller markets. A year later The Peanut arrived. So much for my one year subscription.

The moral of the story? I don’t know that there is one. But I will tell you this. I recommend the hell out of eHarmony to all my single friends. To date my wife and I know 6 or seven couples besides ourselves who met and are engaged as a result of eHarmony, including my brother, who is marrying a surgeon later this summer. I think that half of the weddings we are planning on attending this year are of people who met through Dr. Warren. If you know anyone who isn’t meeting Mr. or Ms. Right at the bars or grocery store, I highly recommend you encourage them to give it a try.

What about you? If you're married or affianced, please share your story. If you’re single and looking what are you planning to try in the new year? If you’re single and not looking, I fully understand. I’ve been there too.

The preceding story was entirely true. The author has no vested interest in eHarmony or any of its affiliates and has received no compensation for sharing his story with anyone else. Ever.

Wedding Bell Blues, A Cry For Help

2008-01-18T22:42:00.001-05:00

One of my close friends is getting married for the second time in 5 years. He’s asked if I would be his best man. For the second time. We’ve known each other for something like 25 years, and of course I accepted. I’m please and honored to be asked.

My friend (let’s call him Robert) is easily the most intelligent guy I know. I don’t mean just smart. Hell, I’m just smart. Robert is the kind of guy who would coast along with a 4.0 at someplace like M.I.T. They even tried to recruit him. He decided instead to dedicate his life to his art. As an artist I doubt that it’s unreasonable to say that he is among the top 20 “practitioners” is his field. He is currently out west finishing his PhD, after which he’ll look for a few career type positions as well as a place perform. His soon to be wife is also an artist in a related field who plans on getting her masters shortly.

Robert is also the straightest arrow I have ever met. He is religious without being pious and lives his life according to his beliefs. For example, that doesn’t mean that he won’t have drink from time to time, but you’ll never see him drunk. He didn’t actually try alcohol until well after his 21st birthday. The idea that he would ever lie, cheat, or steal is beyond ridiculous. He is, in all regards, a good and decent person.

The only flaw I can really see is, I think, related to his genius. Like many hyper-intelligent people, he has little common sense. He can learn anything, but simple things often escape his notice. He’s not good with money, but I suspect he can do differential calculus in his head.

So now you have the background. I’ve done the best man thing before. I’ve done it for other friends too. I’m comfortable speaking in front of a crowd, 5 or 500; it’s all the same to me. I enjoy it. But here’s my problem. I used up all my “A” material during my toast at his first wedding. I had some good stuff and my anecdotes were funny and didn’t put Robert in a bad light. Frankly, he’s such a decent guy there aren’t many stories that I have to tell, and I used up the good ones five years ago. Any teasing was light and in good fun.

What am I going to do for an encore? I have been thinking about this on and off for several months (I still have until May) and I can’t come up with any new material. About the only thing I’ve come up with so far is are these two ideas:

Since he is such a good guy I don’t have any stories that end “and that’s when I learned just how hard it is to find a bail bondsman in Tijuana at 3 AM on a Sunday”. And since I can’t tell a story like that truthfully, the following anecdote is a complete lie…

Robert has told me that his fiancé is smarter than he is. I’m not sure that’s actually possible, but if it is then their kids are going to be scary smart. Lucky for us, they’re both such good people we won’t have to worry that they’re going to raise a real life Lex Luthor.

Both seem kind of weak. I need some jokes or some ideas. Are there rules for a second marriage toast? Any help would be received with gratitude. Any really good help may be thanked with cash. Seriously, I’m dying here.

Tell it to the Marines

2008-01-15T17:01:00.000-05:00

Recently the etiquette of removing ones hat during the National Anthem was discussed over at The West Virginia Surf Report. For the record, I always remove my hat. But a usual, thinking about the story at length dredged up the memory of one of the most surreal experiences I’ve ever had.

I used to travel all over the eastern U.S. as a sales rep for a small company that is now part of a much larger company. I would spend somewhere in the neighborhood of 120 nights a year on the road. Since I was single it wasn’t a problem. And I had the opportunity to visit some really great places and see some amazing things.

I worked one of my trips to put my in Washington D.C. over a non-working weekend. I figured I’d take some time and see the sights in our nations capitol. I’d been there before but still hadn’t seen everything I wanted. So my plan for Saturday was to get up early, head to the Marine Corps War Memorial and from there walk to the Arlington National Cemetery. For those of you who don't recall, the memorial features the likenesses of the 6 men who raised the second flag over Mt. Suribachi during the battle for Iwo Jima during the closing months of World War II. For those of you who have never visited the memorial it sits on the edge of what resembles a good sized city park. The memorial kind of looks out over this field. To the right of the memorial is a loop for tour buses to drop people off and turn around in. The rest of the details are a little hazy.

I got there fairly early in the morning and there weren’t many other tourists around. There were however, a small number of Marines in their dress blue uniforms. Near the memorial was a Marine color guard quietly drilling for something. At the opposite end of the field was another group sort of milling around.

A marine sergeant was walking by and I stopped him and asked what was going on. He told me that across the park someone was getting married and part of wedding party was being photographed. The color guard was there for a retirement ceremony for an officer that would begin in a short time.

As an aside; I was talking to a marine non-com in his dress blues. I’ve never served in the military. I was standing there in my officially sanctioned tourist outfit (baseball cap, t-shirt, shorts) and he was calling me Sir as we talked. Now, I know that the military values courtesy, and it’s their way of life to be polite (when not actually shooting people or being shot at), and I respect and appreciate it. But to tell the truth I felt a little uncomfortable being called Sir by this man. When a store clerk say it, it’s meaningless. When a member of the military says it, it means a lot. I was uncomfortable because I don’t believe I’ve earned the right to be addressed by him as a superior. And I couldn’t call him Sir in return because he will be the first to tell you that he works for a living. And now back to the story.

Since I had plenty of time I decided to hang around and see what a retirement ceremony looked like. So I hung out as people started to filter in. Marine officers and their families started to arrive and mingle. The color guard formed up, waiting for the start of the event. And here’s where it gets weird.

A tour new looking bus pulled up in the circle drive. It was one of the big, luxurious motor coaches that actually lowers itself a little so that its passengers don’t have to step down too far to get the ground. Out of this bus pours dozens of Japanese tourists who looked like they right out of central casting. They were couples and a family or two, and honest to God every one of them was carrying an expensive looking 35mm camera and photography gear. Part of me thinks that I saw a few Mickey Mouse shirts, but maybe that’s just my imagination gilding the lily.

Anyway, here they come, oblivious to all the dressed up Americans milling around. They start taking pictures and then someone notices the color guard. Holy shit. I swear I am not making this up. They start inserting themselves in between the Marines in the color guard and taking pictures of one another. I didn’t know what to do. I mean here a all these Japanese tourists blithely having their pictures taking with the U.S Marines in front of the Marine Corps War Memorial which commemorates, among other things, KILLING JAPANESE!

I decided that I’d just shut up and follow the Marines lead. After all it’s their memorial. They seemed to more or less tolerate/ignore the shutter bugs. After a while I couldn’t take the weirdness anymore and took myself over to Arlington. Every time I think about that morning I shake my head and laugh.

Tell me about something wierd you saw while out of town.

On Men, Women and Gravity

2008-01-14T13:42:00.000-05:00

Boys and girls are different. I know, I know. Duh. I’m glad of the fact that we’re different but sometimes the seeming enormity of those differences just boggles my mind.

Mona and I have experiences that are basically polar opposite.

She has a sister. She hung out with her girl cousins and did girl stuff, whatever that is, growing up. There are no boys in her family other than her father, step father, and grandfather. She played with Barbies and played house and had crushes on one of those slightly androgynous boy band kids. I don’t think there was much in the way of loud noise or rowdiness. The toilet seat was always down, no one got dirty just for the hell of it, and random acts of violence between siblings were not the order of the day. Her grandmothers taught her to bake and sew. She enjoyed arts and crafts. Things were generally “nice”.

I have a brother. I hung out with him at my cousins’ house. That cousin, let’s call him Dave, was 10 years older than me and had his own home a few blocks away by the time I was 13. We spent every minute we could over there hanging out with Dave and his buddies. We played basketball in the driveway all summer and football in the street in the fall. In the winter it was simulated pro wrestling in the living room. Football was watched ever Sunday. Even though these guys were 10 years older, they didn’t hold back or let us win. Ever. We’d go home with scrapes, bruises, cuts and sprains pretty much every day. And go right back for more. I know it concerned our parents, but they figured if we weren’t complaining then it must not be bad enough to have to put a stop to.

There were stacks of Playboy and Penthouse magazines to peruse (Mom and Dad didn’t hear about those) at our leisure and as much junk food as we could eat. It was like being in a locker room most of the time. Sometimes girls would come by (it was the pre-HIV free love kind of time), sometimes we got to know them a little and developed crushes, and once in a while a party was thrown from which we were banned. All in all it was teenage boy Heaven. It came to an end when I turned 18 and Dave got married. He married a fantastic woman who is as much an older sister to me as Dave is an older brother.

At the same time my father taught me how to use tools and fish and handle firearms and how to hunt with a bow or a gun. I still know how even though I haven’t been in the woods armed in nearly 20 years. And if Mom wasn’t much of a tomboy growing up she was a full citizen of guyville by the time I was 7.

Because our upbringing was so different I don’t understand things that women find fun and Mona has no concept of what boys like.

Case in point, her 7 year old niece, Riley. Riley is a very nice, well behaved little girl. She likes to draw pictures and play with stuffed animals and play games. I can’t hang out with her for more that an hour before I’m ready to try and catch chain saws with my teeth, but my wife thinks it’s great. I just don’t get it.

Conversely, Mona is often horrified by the behavior of little boys. The family across the street has 4 boys between the ages of 13 and 4. They’re good kids and don’t cause any trouble, but they’re boys. I watch them beating the hell out of each other and I laugh. My wife sees them chasing each other around playing guns and wants to run over there and put a stop to the violence. That cracks me up too. She doesn’t understand that they’re just being boys.

I know this sounds like I’m stereotyping, and you’re right. I know that some girls like sports and some boys like to play quietly. I know some women who can hang with the boys and a lot of the girls I know are at least as raunchy, if not raunchier, than some of the animals I call friends. But keep in mind that many stereotypes are grown from a seed of truth.

Now I have a daughter, and yes, she’s a daddies’ girl. Lucky for me, The Peanut is still too small to really show any play time preferences. Funny faces, songs and tickling are enough to send her into fits of giggles. And I know when the time comes I’ll happily have a tea party with her and her favorite dolls and I’m actually looking forward to things like farther-daughter dances. I’m totally OK with that. I’m not a guy who feels the need to have a son, or to pass on the ancestral jock strap.

If I end up just girls in the house I won’t have a single regret or wish to change a thing. Although like every father of a girl, I’m dreading her teenage years. I believe I have a better chance of predicting the appearance, strength and path of a Kansas tornado than I have of predicting what a teenage girl is going to do from one moment to the next. And that scares me. Mona however is totally comfortable with the idea.

I was talking with some of my family about how I expect to have to bury some boy who comes to take The Peanut on a date in my backyard one day. My brother brought me back to reality when he said “What the hell is wrong with you? You never, ever bury someone on your own property!” I’ve shared my fears with Mona, but like most mothers, she was never a teenage boy and has no idea why I worry.

That’s really the only reason I would like to have a boy. Just to put the shoe on the other foot so to speak. I’d love to see how Mona reacts when our son pretends to shoot the cat or gets in a fight with one of his buddies. And how she’ll do when her son brings home some girl she is sure is wrong for him. I know my Mow could handle the shooting and fighting, but I don’t think we ever would have found a girl that was good enough for one of her boys. At least not until the first grandchild arrived, at which point her daughter-in-law would become her second favorite person in the world, following said grandchild.

I love my wife. I love that she’s a woman and thinks and acts like a woman. She forgives me for being a man, which I appreciate. We get along very well and both agree that our marriage and relationship can best be described as “easy”. I doubt my experiences growing up and Mona’s were anything other than more or less typical. I imagine the same will be true for The Peanut. But still, like every other heterosexual couple, we’re very different, just on the basis of gender. I look at my wife, realize just how great she is and wonder what in the hell she is doing with a big hairy, smelly, juvenile oaf like me. And as hard as I try to convince her she refuses to accept that, in addition to all her inner beauty, she’s totally hot.

Sometimes those differences make me wonder how we as a species manage to live with our opposite gender even as well as we do. Sure it’s fun to hang out with the guys, but even excluding sex I sure as hell wouldn’t want to live with, much less be married to any of my buddies. I’m fairly certain that’s true for most men, and probably for a lot of women too. Why is that? Why do we want to live with and marry people whose flaws and idiosyncrasies we wouldn’t tolerate in ourselves or our same sex friends? I’m not saying we should all turn to homosexuality. I’m just making an observation on the lives of straight people and wondering why it works so well. We know it’s not cultural, since every culture I’m aware of has, at its foundation, heterosexual partnership to a greater or lesser degree. Why? I want to understand. What makes it work? To me it’s a little like gravity. I don’t know what makes it work, but I’m sure glad that it does.

On a slightly related note, what don’t you get about the opposite sex? Personally I honestly don’t understand jewelry. I can understand the shoe thing to some extent. I am not a guy who only has 2 pair of shoes. Mona has me beat, but I do my share of collecting. I can understand the talking. And the talking. And the talking. I talk a lot. Even if I don’t fully get it, I do my fair share of talking and talking, so at the least fair is fair. I’ve read some things that explain well why some women enjoy shopping. Fine. Shop away. But try as I might I just can’t get jewelry. What is it about shiny metal and polished rocks that cause women to elicit an emotional response? I don’t mean why is jewelry bought or worn. I mean I don’t understand the seemingly visceral reaction that jewelry seems to bring out. What makes it that special? Why?

Fill me in if you can. And if you need an explanation about something generally considered to be part of the realm of men just ask. Maybe I can shed some light for you.

Whereabouts, Whatabouts and Whyabouts (and many parenthetical references).

2008-01-11T20:54:00.000-05:00

You may have noticed that I haven’t posted in a while. Some of you (and you know who you are) have even asked where I’ve been and sent along good wishes. Thank you, I appreciate them all.

The good news is that from a health and happiness standpoint all is well. There is no actual bad news. “Great!” you say. “So what’s up? Where have you been?” For those of you with enquiring minds that want to know, I will tell you. As usual it’s a long story. Keep in mind as you read this that I am not complaining. Seriously. My attitude is pretty positive and I’m feeling upbeat over all.

Now on to the story.

By know you know that I’m a sales rep, and that I love it so much that I’m looking to make a radical career change (with an option to return to sales, just in case). You know that sometimes I struggle to hit my quota and now and then I over achieve and make pretty good money.

I struggled through most of 2007 and spent the bulk of the year on probation. In July I came within a day, literally, of losing my job. (As a side note, I know what literally means and am using it correctly here.) It was 95% my fault too. I started work somewhere around 10 AM, took a 90 minute lunch starting at 11:30 and usually left by 3:00. And I didn’t do much of anything while I was at the office. Since I was planning to leave in April of this year, I pretty much coasted last year. I found out in December that I have to stay another 16 months. Anyway, one of the results of my poor performance last year was a demotion (kinda-sorta) from corporate sales down to what we call general business. There only real changes are a lower quota (half of my old number), smaller customers, different title, and a new manager. My salary, benefits and commission structure are unchanged. Not a whole lot of downside really.

But now the new boss is looking for me to perform. It’s not an unreasonable expectation and I honestly believe he’s interested in my success. Plus, when I’m making money, he’s making money. Everything I sell rolls up to him. I hit my target in November (the first month I worked for him) and missed it in December. It didn’t help that I took 7 days off around Christmas either, but the rule is use the days or lose them. So I used them. Oh, and just before I started my vacation I blew a training presentation in a big way, which pissed him off. Once I finished I figured out that I blew it, so I earned a talking-to.

At any rate, the boss has decided to “aggressively coach me”. He’s set some daily performance goals for me (some are the same for all my peers regardless of performance), asked that he be invited on all my sales calls, and required a daily “What I did today” email every evening detailing who I called along with supporting notes in our customer relationship manager software.

It’s not fun but I am taking it in the spirit in which I believe it was conceived. If I do the things he’s asking I shouldn’t have a problem hitting my numbers. The only real downside is the amount of time it now takes up. I’m working full days again.

Plus 2 days this week I was required to be in the office at 8 sharp (which is barbarically early) for training. Getting The Peanut up, dressed, and over to daycare just added a degree of difficulty.

And now the kicker. School started back up this week. I’d been off since December 17th and had gotten used to being home. Now I have classes on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday from 6 to 9 each day. That was putting me out of the house for over 14 hours, which I am definitely not used to.

And the classes aren’t easy, either. Monday and Wednesday are Anatomy and Physiology II. Lots of detail and memorization. I don’t typically study that way but ask any medical professional and they’ll tell you that’s the only way to deal with A&P. The instructors actually require it. There’s no way to just learn a concept and apply it. The 12 major cranial nerves never change. And from what I have read on ratemyprofessors.com the lady I have teaching isn’t easy.

Tuesdays are Microbiology with a focus on human disease. I don’t think this one will be bad, but again lots of memorization. The instructor for this one is not on ratemyprof, despite having taught for at least 12 years. I am taking that as a good sign. If no one is bitching (or happily raving) then I am hoping it’s because he’s just kind of middle of road and reasonably passable.

Realistically I only need a B- in each class to not have a problem. I’ve carried a 3.4 GPA through 6 years of college now and have only 2 C’s on my transcript (Accounting I and II), so I should really just calm down, do what I have to do and get my A or B. But with all the rest going on at work I’ll admit to being somewhat concerned.

At home things are pretty good. Mona takes good care of The Peanut (certainly better than I would) and keeps things from getting too out of hand. She manages the house and we try and split or share the housework on the weekends. The house is currently ahead of us as a result of the holidays and holiday construction but we should be able to get it tamed this weekend.

Still with all the time away from the house I don’t see her or The Peanut as much as any of us would like.

Taken separately none of this is a big deal. Taken together it’s a little difficult, but not overwhelming. I have enough of a sense of perspective to know that it will end relatively soon, everything will work out, and that there a lot of people out there who would kill to have my problems.

Still, with all time away from hearth and home, I expect The Jorge Experience to suffer a little. At least until I have a schedule of some sort worked out and find a way to cram everything in comfortably. All I have to do now is figure out where to find time to study and I’m all set.

The only reason I have time to do this is because The Peanut is asleep and Mona took herself to the walk-in clinic for a strep test. Everyone here is or has been, to varying degrees, ill for the last several weeks. Again, nothing serious, just inconvenient.

I suppose that I’ll have to give up TV (my chair is already losing my ass-groove) and forget about Netflix, but those are small, small sacrifices.

So anyway, that’s why I’ve not been around much. What’s your schedule look like?

Loot, Literature, and Lies

2008-01-05T22:10:00.000-05:00

I promised I was going to talk about my Christmas loot, and I shall.

I asked for a few things and was really looking forward to getting some, if not all of the books on my list. The ones I requested were:

“Brothers in Battle, Best of Friends” by Bill Guarnere , Edward “Babe Heffron” and Robyn Post. This, for those of you who aren’t familiar with those names, is a companion book to Band of Brothers by Stephen Ambrose. It was written by two of the central contributors to that book. I didn’t get this one but it will stay on the must buy list.

“Tenacious” by Julian Stockwin. If you are a fan of Patrick O’Brian you’ll be hooked. I much prefer this series of novels, which follow Thomas Kydd into the golden age of the Royal Navy, over both the Hornblower and Bolitho series. I also didn’t get this one, but will eventually.

“In at the Death” by Harry Turtledove. This falls into the Sci-Fi category for some reason although I would call it more general fiction and alternative history. There is no Sci-Fi or Fantasy in the book whatsoever. This is the end of a series that begins with a book called “How Few Remain” which begins with the supposition that the South won the civil war and 2 countries, hostile to one another, now occupy the land between Canada and Mexico and deals with the Spanish-American War. “In at the Death” takes us up through the end of the Second World War and is an interesting, if somewhat uncomplicated, exercise in what if. I read this one in about 5 days.

“The Darkest Evening of the Year” by Dean Koontz. I like the books although they are getting a little formulaic. Part of me thinks Koontz wrote this one just to mess with his publisher. Still, it was a decent story but I think it could have been fleshed out a little. I read this in 2 days.

“Confessor” by Terry Goodkind. This one is the end of a series of Sci-Fi / Fantasy books that go back quite a way. The first books in the series I thought were very strong. There were interesting characters, solid plots, good twists and just generally good reading. Later books started to get a little “preachy” in my opinion. One seemed completely tangential to the whole thing and appeared to be the authors’ thinly veiled vehicle for explaining his personal political and moral philosophy. This final book was basically a series of philosophical arguments strung together with a minimum of care. Everything seemed to me to wrap up just a little too easily. Characters that were miles apart for book after book just conveniently reappeared with trite little plot devices. Story lines were wrapped up almost as an afterthought to, again, the authors’ explanation of his world view. This one took me about 4 days.

This brings me to something that has been bothering me for some time. Why does it seem like so many authors, once they get a few best sellers under their belts, feel the need to blatantly interject their opinions into their writing? Even when I agree wholly or partially with them it drives me crazy.

Tom Clancy did it when he made Jack Ryan President. Want to know Clancy’s view on how to fix government? Buy Executive Orders. Ann Rice went into some kind of existential meltdown when she wrote Memnoch the Devil. Goodkind, who I mentioned seconds ago just about bludgeons his readers with his personal philosophy. The only way he could be any more heavy handed is for him to show up to my house, force his way in and then start lecturing me like some sort of zealot missionary. And for the most part, I agree with his general outlook. Dean Koontz is similar but at least he’s a lot less preachy.

Not every author falls into this trap, but it seems many do. I don’t think Stephen King ever did, but he should have stopped writing at either “Hearts in Atlantis” or “Dreamcatcher”, whichever came first. Cell was a decent book however.

One of my other favorites, Robert Jordan (real name James Rigney), got so big that his publishers let his wife edit his books. The result was four or five books introducing more characters than the Iliad and the Odyssey combined and a plot that moved so slowly it might almost have been a text book. Two or three whole books could easily be edited into a single volume. Unfortunately Jordan passed away this summer with his series unfinished. I’ve heard that he left copious instructions for the wrapping up of the series but I’m not holding my breath.

Is it the isolation of writing? Is it the adoring public hanging on every word? Is it the huge royalty checks? What?

Sure, I realize that I’m doing the same thing that I’m bitching about but I think there’s a subtle but important distinction. This is a blog, which means it’s supposed to be somewhat autobiographical and filled with opinion. You know that going in. Writers who suck you in to a book or series of books and then start using those books to tell you what they think are performing, in my opinion, a bait and switch. If I want to be lectured I’ll pay for the privilege by the credit hour. If I want to be preached to I’ll make an appointment on Sunday mornings. Just entertain me.

As for the rest of the loot, socks, slippers, a new drill (which is pretty cool), some sweats and a couple of knives from a cousin who always gets me knives. I’ll explain that some other time.

What about you? Any good stuff? I’m interested to know.