Author Michael

End of Summer Spring Cleaning

Michael 11 Comments

Perhaps it’s because it is the end of summer and I am naturally doing some brain cleaning (I always empty my brain as the seasons change) (don’t you) but even though I recently de-cluttered, I still have more random thoughts I need to clear out. Maybe even more randomer than usual.

Last week was a busy few days for my mail carrier. Every day (Sunday and holiday excluded) he brought me nearly a handful of solicitations for credit cards and personal loans. Here’s what I think happened. The week before I had made a fairly large purchase and was offered a same as cash for a year deal if I opened an account with that store. I could have paid cash but I more likely would have used a credit card and stretched it out over a few months anyway, so why not use their money and save the interest. Now I think that turned on some switch and all the algorithms got together and said “Hey! We got a live one over here! Let’s get him now while he’s in a spending mood!” For as much as I detest spam email and unwanted phone solicitations, regular old junk mail doesn’t bother me. For one thing, it gives the post office some income, and I’m going to recycle it so it’s not like that paper is wasted. But what is annoying me are all the envelops that come with the little windows and you can see “to the order of” and then your name through them, yet when you open it and unfold the letter it tells you “This is NOT a check.” Well then, stop telling it to do something to my order, like I don’t know, maybe pay. Sounds like a clear-cut case of liar, liar pants on fire to me!

This reminds me of something you may not know about your letter carrier. The National Association of Letter Carriers sponsors a program to keep an eye on older Americans through the USPS Carrier Alert Program. The carrier places a placard in the mailbox to alert all carriers to watch for signs of distress such as accumulating mail. If they notice anything unusual they will try to connect with the resident or notify local social service agencies of their concern. Interested parties can inquire if the program is available in their area by asking at or calling the local post office.

Did you see in the news last week that Nany Pelosi is planning on running for office again. She’s 84! Did you see in the news last week that Mitch McConnel hosted another episode of the Twilight Zone. He’s 81. Let’s not even talk about the guys who want to be President. Don’t these people ever retire. Have they no hobbies to occupy their remaining minds, no friends to meet at McDonalds for coffee? And it’s not just the politicians. Harrison Form is out exploring at 81! Eric Clapton just began a new world tour at 78! The Rolling Stones just released a new studio album. The band is 61 years old. Mick Jagger started with the band when he was 19 and he is still performing. I’ll do the math for you. (Hmm, I have a calculator somewhere nearby.) Let’s see… 61+19 = EIGHTY FREAKING YEARS OLD! Maybe he’d like to run for Senate over here. We could use some young blood. I’m 67 and I’ve been retired for 5 years. Sort of. I admit I still work a day or two a week, but my pension is being handled by the firm of Dewey, Cheatham & Howe and to be honest, I like eating. I’ll like eating at 81 too. But I’ll want a few days off to enjoy dinner for gosh sakes!

Speaking of old people, I saw an article from NBC News stating seniors were the victims of internet scams in 2022 to the tune of $3.1 billion dollars. That’s almost the net worth of the average US Senator. Somebody please tell me the collective members of both houses of Congress are actually doing something besides trying to get re-elected. Yeah. I didn’t think so either.

My daughter has a dog. He’s a cute dog. Around here people are so used to seeing him that not many IMG_7850people make a fuss over him. He was recently on vacation (just him, but the humans went along to carry his food and toys), and when they returned she told me everybody was fussing over him and he just ate up all the extra attention. He’s cute and all that, but to be the center of attention for a week in places where people generally went to soak up sights, see magnificent architecture, swim in the ocean – that’s where he was high point of perfect strangers’ days. And I get it. It’s his coloring. If you put a gold car in the middle of a show room of black and gray cars, they could be BMWs and Mercedes and people will still be drawn to the different one, the gold one, even if it is a 40 year old Pinto.

Okay, my brain feels lighter now. Thank you for your help!

There is no reason the world must be black or white. We come up with some good reasons to embrace the many shades of gray in life and take the first step in creating a more colorful world in the most recent Uplift! Take a look!!

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A day of laboring

Michael 14 Comments

Given that today is a day from labor for laborers in observance of Labor Day, I thought I too would take off even though my labors hardly qualify as labor, and labor to reduce the clutter that so laboriously filled my brain since I last labored to lessen the load.

Did you know you are not the only potential victim of identity theft? That’s you as the general, plural you not the specific, singular you that you are as you read this. Yes, it’s true. Your car may be a potential victim of identity theft. I recently read about the increasingly prevalent crime of falsifying VIN plates, metal stamping, and ownership papers for antique and collector cars. Because I own a classic vehicle, I read that article with more than just an academic interest. I probably did not need to do that because I’ve owned my classic since the days it was just another old car, so I am more than fairly certain that what it’s in my garage is what the title and tags claim it to be, but there is a growing business among criminals to falsify records and sheet metal to make just some old car seem to be more than it is. Why you ask? Because the collectible car market is a huge business. The classic car specialty insurance company, Hagerty, estimates there are 45 million classic vehicles registered just in the United States valued at over $1 trillion. Auction sales for 2022 were nearly $3.5 billion dollars. When a single fraudulent transaction can net a bad guy a seven figure take, they are willing to spend a few thousand of those $$ to pull it off.

Here’s another did you know. Did you know that 8 of the 10 drugs Medicare care can begin negotiating lower prices for are also 8 of the most advertised prescription drugs in the US? Actually in anywhere because the United States is one of only 2 countries in the entire world to allow direct to consumer prescription drug advertising, and they do it to the tune of over $6.5 billion dollars. (That’s almost twice what Americans spent on classic cars last year and they don’t need somebody’s permission to buy them. Except perhaps a wife’s or husband’s.) Why would drug makers spend that much money advertising something to people that the people can’t just walk into the store and buy? Because American people are stupid. (And I say that lovingly.) Only in America can somebody watch a commercial for a diabetes medication then rush to the doctor and ask to have it prescribed for them, demand to have it prescribed for them, even if they don’t have diabetes. You say that’s crazy. It is but it’s also true. I know. Trust me, I know. According to a March 2023 release by the USC Schaeffer Center for Health Policy & Economics, “As much as a third of drug expenditure increases can be linked to the prevalence of drug ads.” Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health reported in February 2023 that while direct to consumer advertising is associated with increased patient requests for advertised drugs and the increased chance that clinicians will prescribe them, most of those drugs are rated as having low added benefit compared to other drugs. As someone who has spent over 45 years working with drugs and the people who prescribe them, I say to America (or to the small part of it reading this blog), we know what we’re doing. Please let us do it.

Finally, I’m always harping on losers and big men with small manhoods who “forgot” they had a loaded firearm with 2 extra fully loaded clips, let’s give them a break although they hardly deserve one. Because it’s a holiday and even losers and big men with small manhoods deserve a day off, let’s check in with the TSA and see what the most commonly confiscated items at airport security check points are. The most often removed items from carry-on baggage screened at airport check points are liquids, and the most often of the most often are plain old water, shampoos, sun-block, and peanut butter (yes, per TSA rules, peanut butter is a liquid (and is also the most common hiding medium for firearms but we aren’t talking about those things that losers and big men with small manhoods “forget” in their carry-ons). After liquids come, those things that losers and big men with small manhoods try to sneak by with by claiming they forget about them, then knives and other weapons, drugs, multi-tools, and screwdrivers. What are some of the more unusual things picked up by the TSA screeners? How about a boa constrictor, a pair of ceremonial scissors used in a ribbon cutting ceremony, canon balls, a chain saw, frying pans, and a taser built into a lipstick tube. (I wonder if that was a big woman with a small… nah.)

That’s it for today. I’m going to make sure the garage door is closed and my VIN tag is still attached to the car. Happy holiday!

Words alone are not an effective means of communication but when that’s all you have you better use them wisely, and that’s why we say to say what you mean what you say what you mean in the latest Uplift! Go on and read it. It only takes 3 minutes.

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words matter

Michael 5 Comments

This week I was proof-reading the post that will be published this Wednesday, August 30 on Uplift! the ROAMcare blog. It’s about saying what you mean, meaning what you say, the joy you feel when you can, and the consequences when you don’t. As I started writing the first draft for this post, I had no inkling the two would intertwine. This post, like the previous two posts to this blog, was to be about words, though not necessarily the saying and meaning of them. In between the reading and the writing of these two blog posts, I was also reading some local news. There was an incident here in town involving a man barricaded in a house, and suddenly, I found an overlap.

  • The barricaded gentleman was the target of an order of eviction. Rather than accepting the paperwork, he fired on the sheriff deputies attempting to serve the order. And that began a 6+ hour standoff during which thousands of rounds of ammunition were fired. The county Sheriff reported that the suspect was pronounced dead at the scene. What does that have to do with words? One moment please. I did some further investigating. 
  • Checking the sports pages, a local college football booster donates $20 million to the college athletic department to enhance the school’s football program. The same donor previously founded a collective of like minded donors to set money aside for Name Image and Likeness payments for the school’s athletes. I know, one more time. What’s that have to do with words? Please hold.
  • A local Home Depot was reported to have been the victim of theft. “Thousands of dollars worth of equipment was stolen from a local Home Depot, police say,” the report begins, then it continues, “State troopers say two men and a woman were responsible for the thefts. Two microwaves, a stove, a gas grill and a John Deere riding mower were all stolen from the store.” The report goes on. “The thieves are also believed to have taken drinks. Overall, the stolen goods were worth $4,697.60.” One of these words is not like the other. Don’t go away. We’ll be right back. 
  • And an oldie but a goodie. Earlier this month a man was stopped by TSA agents at the local airport with a fully loaded 9mm handgun and 2 additional loaded magazines for a total of 22 rounds of ammunition. He forgot. Two words. Yeah, right.

Let’s look at the words used. 

Working backwards, yeah, right. Come on guy, just say you don’t trust women to recognize you’re happy to see them so you keep a gun in your pocket.

The report of the theft at the outsized home center knew exactly, what was stolen, the value of what was stolen, and who stole it, yet they aren’t quite sure about those couple drinks that are missing. Was the reporter on a word count and needed those eight words to satisfy the editor’s line budget?

Enhancements to the athletic department that also references the the NCAA NIL policy. Sounds like a personnel budget to me.

And the one that started me down this rabbit hole. One person inside a building. Thousands of shots from inside the building. And with all deference to the presumption of innocence, “the suspect?”

Isn’t it time we start saying what we mean?

Now, other than the common theory of say what you mean, mean what you say, this is nothing like the ROAMcare post will read. If you want to know how post that comes out, be one of the ones to read it as soon as that post comes out. You can subscribe to Uplift! here.

Speaking of words, the words “good enough” don’t conjure thoughts of expert performance, but is good enough ever good enough? We explore times when it might, and when it definitely isn’t, in the most recent Uplift! The approximate reading time is just 3 minutes

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Hack no

Michael 13 Comments

After last week’s mini diatribe (would that be a monotribe?) I started thinking about word usage more than usual. As one who writes and speaks, words are my tools, and usage has to be precise if I expect to be understood. I decided if I could bump off any word, have it struck from all dictionaries, pulled from thesauri, and eliminated from internet searches, the one that stands out more than any other as offensive to my ears, more so than even the inappropriate use of weaponize, practicability, and disenfranchisement that will escalate over the next 15 months, that one word would be “hack” when used as a tip, hint, or suggestion. (A word I’d like you to consider not considering is “run-on” as in sentence.)

The word hack comes to us from Middle English, hakeney, a horse used for riding. It has been in common use as hackney, a horse of small stature appropriate for riding or pulling a small carriage (versus one used for plowing or pulling wagons) since the 1600s, perhaps earlier. Hack, the obviously shortened version, it along with its adjectival form hackneyed, almost immediately took on more sinister uses.

The hackney pulled carriages became a favorite for rides for hire throughout London, the horse and carriage combination commonly called a hack (which is why we still call taxis, cars for hire, hacks), and anything or anyone offering himself or his property out for hire, also was considered a hack. At this same time, the hackney pulled carriages became so prolific, hackneyed was coined to describe anything commonplace.

Hack continued to grace the pages of English dictionaries as a carriage or vehicle for hire or, in a pejorative way, one of common upbringing, skills, or expectations, and it continued without much controversy as such until Americans got involved. Through the early twentieth century, hacks here were also cabs and commoners but we expanded hack to refer to one who did the bare minimum to earn his pay in almost any field, whether a hack writer or a hack surgeon. And then, just about mid-century, something weird happened. Hack took its turn as a verb in American verbiage, as in, “That’s too much for me, I just can’t hack it anymore.” And that may (MAY) be its entry into computerese.

Mid-century computer programming was a long, difficult, and often trial and error experience. Those who were successful at programming proudly claimed they could hack it. And hack, hacker, and hacking became positive references to those proficient with the inner workings of computers and programming languages. About the time Matthew Broderick was changing grades for him and his high school sweetie, hacking with reference to computers, regained its negative connotation.

None of this explains why today, hack is synonymous with a handy dandy household hint. Etymologically there is no connection. Yet today there will be no less than 48 billion headlines in cyberspace addressing life hacks, kitchen hacks, productivity hacks, dating hacks, health and beauty hacks, and probably hacking hacks. Perhaps 48 billion is a tad hyperbolic. I’ll check for a writing hack on how to get large numbers across in dramatic fashion.

Perhaps it is as one Quorum user suggests, “It sounds edgier. “Tips” are merely interesting and useful. “Hacks” sounds as though you’ve been devious and insightful, perhaps even forbidden. “Hacker” used to be somebody with exceptional skill at computers. “Hacking in” to a computer system was something that required a lot of knowledge and cleverness. “Hacks” carries some of that sense of astuteness, along with some of that sense of having inside information that others don’t have. So it makes people feel important.” He goes on to say, “To me they just sound like a…” but I’ll stop there. This is a family blog. I’d had to get hacked and have my posting privileges revoked.

Etymologically, bias is assuming something. Cognitive biases, nobody listening or discussing, assumes outcomes based on past behavior and can have significant consequences. In the most recent Uplift!, we discuss how with respectful communication we can live, work, and play well together. Take 4 minutes to read it and see if you agree.

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No more word smithing

Michael 7 Comments

I was building discussion points for a project in another part of my life and I got stuck for a word. I needed something to describe what someone who originates an idea does – or did. I thought “introduce” didn’t capture the work involved, “create” sounded too supernatural, “instigate” seemed somehow sinister, and “initiate” was much too formal. Well that exhausted the listings in my mental thesaurus. Time to dig up Mr. Roget’s best seller and see if I could find just the right set of letters to satisfy my word quest. I was actually out of the chair when I slapped myself in the forehead, fortunately not wearing a heavy ring, when I sat back down, keyed in o-r-i-g-i-n-a-t-e, hovered, and right-clicked on it.

  • Create (already eliminated that one)
  • Invent (no, not the feeling I’m after)
  • Initiate (again, I thought of that one without anybody’s help)
  • Instigate (still sounds sinister)
  • Make (dull)
  • Devise (wouldn’t have thought of that in a million years but that’s ok because I don’t like it anyway)
  • Patent (I’d argue that’s the same as originate but that’s just me)
  • Coin (ooh, good word – not the right word but a good one)
  • Begin (blah)
  • Derive (again, I argue that derive and originate are not synonymous)
  • [ ] (notice, they didn’t even come up with “introduce” like I did, not that it mattered)

In the end, or actually middle given that I’m still working on the project, I went with “originate” knowing I’ll never be completely satisfied that I did my best at creating an original set of discussion points. (See what I did there? Hmm?)

Although my mini-search hadn’t satisfied my curiosity for an appropriate substitute for “originate,” it raised my curiosity about words. I seem to end up with three of four posts about words and language each year. That’s a lot of words! I’ve gone back and forth to suggesting we need more words to we have too many words to we need better words. I know we need still need better words and I offer my ambivalence toward “originate” for proof. I’m not so sure we need more words, yet we keep inventing them. In one of those posts up yonder (or should I say heretofore mentioned), I wrote, “The English language is said to have close to a million words in it. I’m not sure who counted that but the most complete, or as they would put it unabridged dictionary of the English language, the Oxford English Dictionary, has about 620,000 words. But language doesn’t equal vocabulary. And vocabulary doesn’t equal language. The average educated English speaking person knows around 20,000 words and uses but about 2,000 words in a week.”

That was in 2017. Now things are even more confusing. The OED still contains over 620,000 listings, listings not words, many are duplicates because we use the same word for different uses. (See that. I did it again.) It lists (yep, again) 171,000 different words. But now those same sources say the average American English speaking person knows about 40,000 words. How did we double our word count in six years? For comparison, Classic Latin is composed of (comprised of?) 39,500 words.

There’s something not right here. I’m just not sure exactly how to express it.

Looking for your own perfect word? Practice your vocabulary. They say practice makes perfect, no? No! If no one can be perfect, why practice? Practice has to make something. What practice makes is a more positive you! Our most recent Uplift! digs into how that can be.

Go take a look for yourself. You can be there and back in about 3 minutes.

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A tale of two speeches

Michael 9 Comments

It was the best of speeches, it was the worst of speech…no, I’ll leave that cliché alone today. It was a good speech, or presentation if you will. But it ended up with an unexpected twist when I was mingling with some of those still around as we wrapped up the evening.

Over the last few weeks there have been a number of things to remind me that people, whether they expect it or not, react differently to the same stimulus. I’d say I’ve read 4 or 5 blog posts, one journal article, an online article, and even had a discussion with my daughter after a retreat she had last week about it, so I certainly should have expected it. People see things differently. Nothing wrong with that.

The program I had just finished was one I’d written similarly here if you want to get the gist of what I had said that evening. The intro was different. I had couched the events comparing miracles to long shots, using the current billion dollar MegaMillion jackpot as the definition of long shot. I started with “Yes, I bought my ticket. Oh I know the odds are astronomical but I’ve faced longer odds than that and won. On, no. Not a cash jackpot. I hit it big in the miracle lottery!” and from there described my journey from secular “guy grabbing with both hands” to true believer in the power of prayer and that miracles do happen (although it is our job to figure out why), in four brushes with death over a span 20 years.

As usual, the after-crowd included those stopping by to say things like “You’re so brave to tell your story like that.” (Not really, it’s not like the audience was made up of grizzly bears, just other people). “Wow, so inspiring!” (Thank you.) “Did you ever just want to give up?” (Hmm, no, I never did even though I knew things were going to be different no matter how they turned out.) And “I want to thank you for talking about prayer here, here, not in a church. I just discovered a few months ago what I was missing. Faith. Believing in something. You don’t see that out in public. It meant a lot to me to see you put your faith out there for everyone to see.” (Wow. That’s the one I didn’t expect.)

I expected to give an inspirational speech, one saying that you are never alone, you ask for help from whom you know will stand by you wherever you find your helpers. He heard a motivational speech, one that told him that you can be the person you are meant to be no matter where and with whom you are.

Two speeches out of one set of words? Maybe four speeches: one of strength, one of hope, one of inspiration, one of motivation. In truth, one speech for everyone present plus one for me. Everyone hearing the same words and taking from it what they need to hear, what their mind, soul, spirit, or heart wants to take from it. For me, whatever I need at the moment: confirmation, validation, acceptance, fulfilling a promise. I’ve often said you write for yourself and you speak for yourself. What your reader or listener hears are more than the words, but the message they need at the moment.

Yes, it was the best of speeches, and we’ll leave it at that.

Not getting everything out of everything you’re working on? Maybe you’re trying too hard. If you try to give 110% you will always end up at least 10% short. Try easy and surprise yourself when you exceed expectations! We explain our logic in the latest Uplift! Spend 3 minutes and see what we’re talking about.

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Things people didn’t say

Michael 13 Comments

I’ve spent much of the last week out, in public even! A variety of appointments and a need to replenish my gas tanks and cupboards has had me at more offices, stores, and service centers than usual (and even some fast food drive thru lanes and coffee shops). And all of them presented some great opportunities to make us aware of some things that desperately need said.

Before I start down the path from which they may be no return, here is something I never hear anybody say and you all really should be saying. “Let’s see what’s happening on the Blessitude Instagram page.” Blessitude is run by a most dear friend of mine who since January of 2019 has been posting images of hearts out in the world, proof that we are precious and loved. She describes Blessitude as the art of being gratefully blessed. Her photography is as special as the imagines she captures. There’s nothing for sale, nothing being asked for. It’s just a place to see His beauty that surrounds us, the precious and the loved. Here are a couple samples of her latest finds.

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Now, on with the rant, errr I mean discussion. Actually not so much a discussion, just the thoughts you know these people are thinking and would probably show up in a little balloon above their heads if they were in the comics section – where some certainly belong!

  • “Do you think it’s a good idea to wear a nose ring, especially one that looks like it was last used by a large bull, while I wait on tables?”
  • “Yes, the ad says buy three tires, get one free, and that’s why we have to charge you $75 for the valve stem for each wheel and naturally if we put that in the ad too, you’d realize you just paid $300 for that free $250 tire. Did we also mention balancing is extra?”
  • “Thank you for filling out this 8 page questionnaire. If you have a seat someone will take you to another room and ask you all the same questions.”

The above on the way in, the below on the way out.

“And here’s your reminder card for your next appointment. Don’t worry about getting here on time let alone the fifteen minutes early like that card says as the doctor is always running late. Next time ask for the first appointment of the day. That one he’s at least ha a shot of getting close to.”

  • “Of course there’s a lot more ice cream in the back, and probably even the flavor you want. Come back tomorrow when it’s not on sale. We’ll have it out then.”
  • “Please don’t try to confuse me giving me 8 dollar bills and two pennies to pay $7.27. If I knew math I’d have been an engineer like my mother wanted me to. Besides, it gives me a headache.”
  • “I really should stockpile some generic posts for when life gets busy because of a variety of appointments and a need to replenish my gas tanks and cupboards that had me at more offices, stores, and service centers than usual”

You know something else people say but don’t say often enough. “Hi. How are you. Nice day, Isn’t it?” We talk about how kindness counts, that it is a natural part of living, never out of place, and should be a habit, not just some random act, in the latest Uplift!  We write them to take only 3 or 4 minutes to read so there’s always time for an uplifting message. Nothing for sale there. Just some motivation to help you  through your day.

Rewriting the dictionary

Michael 14 Comments

Most of you know I have a passion for old movies. I likewise enjoy old books, not old classics, but old popular fiction of another day. Although it didn’t start when I decided to make a quest of reading the source material for the movies I watched, it took a good, strong hold then. I’m currently working my way through the works of Erle Stanley Gardner, mostly those written under his name and most of them of  the famous “Perry Mason” series, and most of his “Cool and Lam” detective series published as by A. A. Fair. I’ve also read all of Raymond Chandler, and Dashiell Hammett, and good deal of S. S. Van Dine, and Michael Arlen, writers reaching from the 1950s back to the 1910s. Some recognizable, others not quite household names, most standing up well to the ravages of time.

Believe it or not, that was a tangent I got in. What I really want to talk about is how language changed. Or more appropriately, the words. Not how we have added words to our vocabulary, but of how we just quite willy-hilly change the meaning of a word for seemingly no good reason other than that’s what someone wants.

Quite a few changes have had to do with sex and sexuality and are well known. When Hammett wrote of visiting a gay night club, it was a place where people went for a fun night out, perhaps dining with dancing or a floor show. If Chandler wrote that something was queer, he meant Phillip Marlow was puzzled over something. When Arlen had a character make love (and it was always one as he made love to her, not they made love together) he had a male character lavish a woman with flowers, gifts, and nights out, perhaps holding hands or sneaking a goodbye kiss on the front porch. As people became more comfortable discussing sex and sexuality, they did not become more comfortable using the words to describe sex and sexuality so they borrowed these seemingly innocent words and gave them their more blushing, new meanings.

Some words changed meaning because they evolved into their new meanings, somewhat related to what they previously represented. Prior to World War II, when one retired, one stopped work for the day and went to bed. After the war it took to meaning leaving a room at any time of day, and eventually to the now most familiar term describing one who has quit their life’s work and entered their post-employment phase of life.

Many words changed because of the burgeoning computer age. These words did not change as much as they took on new meanings. Cloud, footprint, and firehouse are among words that have added to their definitions to include computing actions or activities. It is likely that 100 years from now, people will still refer to a visible mass of particles of condensed vapor suspended in the atmosphere as a cloud and by then maybe even still to a remote, digital storage system.

While I’m talking about changes, I’m proposing no word changes but I am considering changing the blog name. I am consolidating some personal projects under one umbrella site, iammichaelross.net. I expect that to be live within the next 10 days. My next blog post made be delivered to you as you are used to, The Real Reality Show Blog by WordPress or via the new site, also hosted by WordPress. (If you’re wondering, this change won’t affect ROAMcare.org which is an arm of a separate not for profit education foundation that I just happen to be partnered with.)

Speaking of ROAMcare, and talking about words, we mentioned a word not usually mentioned around the dinner table, propinquity, whose meaning also changed over time. We mention when we talk about why some people work so well together, seeming to mesh effortlessly as we talk about strange forces at work (and at home too) in the latest Uplift!

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Sugar, slice, and a couple things nice

Michael 13 Comments

It’s that time again. The dustbin of my brain needs emptying. Needs to be emptied? Whichever, it’s time to write out all those random thoughts and make room for new dreck, err, information. This time, though, we have some nice thoughts.

Let’s start with the spicier stuff! Spices.

Last week I made one of my favorite dinners. Oh, let’s be honest with each other. If it has a protein, a vegetable, and a starch, it’s one of my favorite dinners. Let’s call this one instead, one of those dinners I don’t often make and thoroughly enjoy whenever I get around to it, which might be once or twice a year – blackened catfish. When I need a blackening seasoning, I start with a commercial Cajun seasoning and add paprika, black pepper and thyme. As I was mixing my new blend I inadvertently grabbed a jar of “fish crust” instead of thyme. Fish crust is a proprietary blend used and sold by one of the local restaurants. I realized my mistake when greenish granules fell into my mix rather than the expected tannish dried flakes. Uh oh! I looked at what I was holding, glaring at the bottle that so looks like the one holding my dried thyme and asked what it thought it was doing, jumping out of the rack into my hand when I clearly called for thyme. “Dude, chill,” the traitorous container said, or so I imagined, “I got your thyme in me along with some parsley, cilantro, lemon, garlic, and salt. So it might be a little salty when it’s all done with what you’ve already out in there. Add an extra squeeze or two of lemon before you pull the fish out of the pan. Sheesh, do I have to think of everything?” And the bottle was right. It all worked out in the end and was extra yummy good.

Something else happened last week that wasn’t so fishy. Thursday I was working on the ROAMcare Motivation Moments that will hit the Internet over the next couple of months. I was stuck. I had a whole day with nothing to do but write as much as I wanted, and I couldn’t put two words together. I ran out of motivation to continue. You may remember not long ago I wrote here in the RRSB post Motivating the Motivators that I had worried that might happen some day. “There was a time when I thought that eventually we would run out of motivation. ‘Who is going to motivate the motivators?’ I would ask.” But then I confidently followed that up with, “but that thought was fleeting.” Fleeting my eye. Where were all the thoughts now. So I did what I usually do when I need a little extra oomph. I went off to read some old Motivating Moments. Sure enough, I found one to work for me in that moment. Two actually, one right after the other. The first reminded me that, “A good day isn’t just about hitting the high points. It’s about making it through the low ones too!” By gosh by golly, I had done a lot that day. I was just in a low point. I could climb out of it, or just hang around there and do something else until my brain re-opened for business. And if I didn’t, well, I had done a lot of work and there will be motivating moments still for weeks with what I’d already put in the can. And just as I was about to close that window in the computer, another Moment tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Psst, hey buddy. Look at me.” It nearly screamed at me across my screen, “Make the time to remind yourself how good you are.” By golly by gosh, we were right again. A slow point doesn’t make for a failed day. For every day’s disappointing minute, there are 1439 other minutes available to be better. And a few of those minutes, and a bowl of ice cream later, we were back in the writing business.

Shifting gears to something not motivating at all, to one of my favorite gripes – pickup trucks with an extra serving of testosterone. I was in my little roadster stopped at a traffic lights as red as the Miata itself. With all that red, you’d think even a dim witted macho man would know to slow down. A question I ask myself every now and then when I take the little convertible out is should I be wearing a helmet?  The state used to require it of motorcyclists but they ones now who don’t have pretty hard heads anyway. Usually I only get that thought when I’m in a parking lot next to a “look how big my pick(up) is” truck and then it goes away as soon as I encounter intelligent life again. Well at that light, I heard the rumble behind me and saw a monster of a truck coming in down the hill and there I sat, frozen in my seat, looking in the rear view mirror and not seeing the truck’s grill, not seeing its front bumper, but seeing its undercarriage and front end suspension bits! It was lifted so high off the road, it literally could ride right over me!! There was no shoulder to my right and oncoming traffic to my left. And that left me three choices, sit, pray, or get out of the way.  That’s when I shifted gears and red light or not, pulled forward into the intersection, made a quick check to the left, then one to the right, that a glance at the medal clipped to my sun visor that says, “Never drive faster than your Guardian Angel car fly,” apologized to my ever-present but unseen companion, and flew! I was across the intersection and safely on the side of the road when the monster truck hurtled by. I said a quick prayer of thanks and pulled back onto the roadway to continue my leisurely drive. About 2 miles down the road, Mr. Macho was looking down out of the cab of his metal manhood at the top of the nice officer’s head handing over his license, registration, and insurance. Who says prayers are never answered?

Okay, that’s it for this week’s random thoughts. Tune in again next week for another exciting episode of “What will he come up with now?”

Hey, while we speaking of spices, that reminds me about condiments. Did you know people are like condiments? We explain why we think so in the most recent Uplift! It only takes 3 minutes to read. Go ahead, click that link!

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Rockets Loud Blare

Michael 9 Comments

Sunday afternoon I was having dinner with my daughter and her dog. Nature was putting on a fireworks display that rivaled what man made for the Fourth of July. The dog didn’t seem to mind the booming thunder. He would stop, tilt his head to one side, and lift an ear but then go right back to trying to get all the frozen fruit out of his treat. According to the daughter, he was not so calm with the artificial noise makers the previous week. Those he didn’t trust quite as much as these that he must have sensed were part of the natural scheme of things. I can’t say I blame him. If I could invent a firecracker that had the beauty of the modern displays without all that blasted noise, or noisy blasts, I may not end up a millionaire, but I’d like it a lot more.

That got us to talking about fireworks and the best backyards of the ones we collectively have had to be able to see the downtown display and from there, somehow, into stories about about hospitals. No it wasn’t a natural progression but most of our conversations follow no natural progression and we are quite proud of that. Or at least we tolerate it.

It happens to be that ten years ago, the Fourth of July 2013, was the last Fourth that I was out actually somewhere with the intent to see a fireworks display. Two days later, I had the first of the many major surgeries that changed my life forever. I don’t think that’s why I haven’t been out to see fireworks since, content to watch them from the relative comfort of a backyard deck chair, but that’s the sequence of events. Proof again that just because B follows A, A does not necessarily cause B. Anyway, that’s how we got from thunder to fireworks to hospitals and hospital stays. Somehow, I managed to have a story that wraps that all together, with a nice ribbon, and a big bow in top. Of course I do.

It was New Years Eve, I don’t recall what year and I don’t recall why I was there, but some year in the not too distant past, after 2013 but before 2023, I was admitted to a just barely suburban hospital. I say just barely suburban because on a good day, you can walk from the hospitals front door to the city boundary. Anyway…on this particular day, I walked no where except to the emergency room and there just from the parking lot or maybe from my doctor’s office located in the medical office building next door to the hospital, and to make a long story short (I know…too late), I was admitted for some reason or other. I was wheeled up to the room, looked out the window and had an unobstructed view of downtown. (I should mention that the hospital sits on a hill so I was also looking down into downtown.) (Quite appropriate, don’t you think?) (And now, back to our show.)

Later that evening, just after dusk, my visitors and I were treated to a front row seat to the first set of fireworks. (Yes, first set. At the time (I don’t know if they still do) the city sponsored two New Years Eve fireworks displays, the first dubbed “the family show” just after dusk, and the second, at midnight just as the countdown reached zero.) Later that evening I stayed up to watch the midnight fireworks too and then settled in for the night.

As I said, I don’t remember why I was there but it had nothing to do with my heart. I know that because the following morning, New Years Day, a nurse came in and asked why I was there, that was the cardiac floor and I didn’t seem to have any heart problems. I agreed I didn’t, and that all the work that had been down to me up till then was in the general area below the belt. I was transferred to the general surgery unit and never again saw the downtown fireworks so clearly as that night. Nor so quietly either.

Taking charge of your emotions is a good thing to do. Taking charge in moderation might be the best way you can do it. We explain why we think so in the latest Uplift! (Reading time 3 minutes)

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