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Plan, Check, Do

Michael 2 Comments
  In the very nearly eight years that I’ve been sharing my sometimes questionable mind with you I’ve rarely brought up religion. Maybe a half-dozen times and then probably just at Christmas or Easter not that I’m only Christmas or Easter religious, but it’s not a topic I often speak or write about. Today there seems no escaping it, not that it needs escaped from of course.
   Unless you live in a world devoid of internet access and by virtue of you reading this we know that’s not true, or unless you have been out of the country this week and even then you probably still reached back with that internet access that we know you have, you’ve gotten to read about the newest controversy, that is how dare Ellen DeGeneres sit next to President George W. Bush and at a baseball game, a social event even, of all places.
   If you should happen to be scrolling through the archives here you know we’re approaching the one-year anniversary of the mass murders at the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh Pennsylvania, the deadliest such event at any religious setting.
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   I’m sure you’re now asking yourself what do these two events have to do with each other? Less than a year ago people were posting all over social media how we have to love one another, respect one another, live in harmony with each other. In the past few days some of those same people had commented how could someone like Ellen socialize with someone like George W. knowing his past and their differences? And they did it with less than loving, respectful, or harmonious words. Ellen’s initial response to the comments that you don’t have to agree with someone to like him or her or even to be civil to that person or group of people was met with even more outrage. And then a post or two later whether on Twitter or Facebook or in the comments section to a news article, those same people we’re counting the ways they were going to commemorate the Tree of Life tragedy with love and respect, and in the spirit that we are all the same and belong together.
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   It takes so much more than words whether spoken, printed, or typed and sent into the interwebs. It’s the action that matters. No matter if you are agreeing, disagreeing, clarifying, or condemning, some true action is needed if you’re expecting change. Or even love and respect.
   I probably would have just read all of the posts, become frustrated at the consistent contradictory reactions of people, then had a second cup of coffee and let it be forgotten before the day’s end. But then that’s where religion snuck in. It was right there in front of me in today’s Gospel, “…ask and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be open to you.” (Luke 11:9) These three are interconnected, not independent. It doesn’t stop at ask.
   If you’re having trouble thinking theologically, consider the business maxim, “plan, check, do.” Ask is step one, it’s the plan. What do we want? Do we want to live in harmony? Do we want to punish somebody for past offenses? Do we want to love our neighbor? The second step you seek, or checking the plan. How do we get what we want? How much do we need to be happy? How severe should the punishment be? Can we get away with just liking our neighbor? And then you have to act on it. You have to knock on the door and announce how you will do your plan. Sometimes that plan means you have to change, you have to be more in tune with others, you have to love more. It’s not always going to be the other person who has to adjust to be in harmony with you. In fact, more often than not the one doing the work will be you.
   So whether it’s being civil to someone, loving your neighbor, or rethinking past times when you’ve been less than those, now is probably a good time to plan, check, and do.
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Paradise Squashed

Michael 2 Comments

We are deep into the throes of PSL season although as previous rants of mine have shown, pumpkin flavoring goes far beyond latte, this year including potato chips. But I must admit, even though I detest almost everything else pumpkin, baked goods – pie, bread, rolls, cookies – made with real pumpkin is food heaven. But anybody who has made anything out of real pumpkin starting with that round, orange vegetable perched on the kitchen counter waiting to be dispatched by your biggest and strongest knife will tell you making those tasty tidbits is food hell! Thus the popularity of canned pumpkin. Well now, who else saw the breaking news earlier this week? Those cans touting 100% real pumpkin within typically contain 0% real pumpkin. Yes, canned pumpkin is not.

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Americans should be used to foods not being what they seem to be. Euphemisms abound in the grocery store. Pigs become pork, cows are turned into beef, and I don’t even want to think about capon. The vegetable world makes soy beans tofu and wants to rename every chili when sold dried versus fresh. Maybe that’s where it all started, with those chili peppers we know weren’t called peppers until Chris Columbus and his crews landed in the Caribbean and called everything pepper.

The mysterious case of the missing pumpkin in canned pumpkin is kind of like Columbus and his peppers. It’s not simply a matter of masking the fact that those roosters were crowing soprano before they became a five star restaurant entree. It really is something else in that can but we’ve spent 200 years calling it pumpkin so there will be no stopping now.

The mystery substance is no mystery at all. According to Emma Crist of MyRecipes, that orange stuff “is made from a variety of winter squash (think butternut, Golden Delicious, Hubbard, and more). Libby’s, the brand that produces about 85% of the country’s canned “pumpkin” filling, has actually developed a certain variety of squash that they grow, package, and distribute to supermarkets” and because the FDA won’t quibble over what variety of squash is used “it’s perfectly legal to label a food product as ‘pumpkin’ when, in reality, it’s made from a different variety of squash.”

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To clear that up, in a 1988 compliance guide the FDA states, “Since l938, we have consistently advised canners that we would not initiate regulatory action solely because of their using the designation “pumpkin” or “canned pumpkin” on labels for articles prepared from golden-fleshed, sweet squash, or mixtures of such squash with field pumpkins. The policy itself begins “In the labeling of articles prepared from golden-fleshed, sweet squash or mixtures of such squash and field pumpkin, we will consider the designation “pumpkin” to be in essential compliance with the “common or usual name” requirements.”

So there you have it. My only pumpkin refuge in a sea of pumpkin spiced latte is actually butternut squash pie. Oh well. Pass the whipped cream please. Umm, I mean the water, hydrogenated vegetable oil (including coconut and palm kernel oils), high fructose corn syrup, corn syrup, skim milk, light cream (less than 2%), sodium caseinate, and natural and artificial flavor.

 

Black and White

Michael Leave a comment

Do you remember “White Sales?” I might need to address that to the over 50 crowd only. Over 60? For the under 30 crowd, no, that’s not a racial thing. Go find an old person for clarification. Well, White Sales popped into my brain just yesterday when my tablet went black. How do I know why? It just did. I gave up long ago trying to figure out my brain. It was giving me headaches. But there I was with a black screen on my tablet and White Sales on my brain. And they say it’s not a black and white world!

Fast forward to this morning when I stepped out of the shower and pulled a black bath towel off the bar and again thought, “White Sale!” But my thought didn’t stop there, oh no. It continued, “I need to start looking for a new tablet.” By now everybody either knows from experience or determined through careful inquiring and/or slapdash Googling that White Sales and tablets do not go together. Again, I’ve given up on brain figuring.

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The interesting thing about White Sales, at least the last ones I remembering patronizing, is (was?) the lack of white linens. Just now I had to get up and check my closet to see if I even have any myself. I indeed have a set of white towels and white sheets although I don’t remember the last time either was out of the linen closet. It was probably when I moved and they made the trip from one closet to another. Neither set has been in the regular rotation for, well for years. Considering I actually had to go looking for them should tell you it’s been lots of years. It probably also tells you I don’t clean out my closets as often as I should but that’s a post for a different day.

The interesting thing about my tablet is it might be as old as those white sheets. For a piece of portable electronics it’s held up remarkably well. It gets a lot of use. I’d say constant use but there are a few hours each day that I can say I don’t have it in my hand. I know I had it for several years before I moved and I moved 4 years ago. It’s so old that when I read an e-book on it I have to wet my finger to turn the page. Well maybe not, but it is quite old. It has an old operating system, limited RAM, and if it wasn’t for the Micro SD Card it would have almost no memory. But I like it. I like the size, the screen quality (when it’s not all black), the battery use, even it’s case. I know I’ll never find another one that will last however long this one has been with me. Seven years? Ten years? And I am certain one today will probably cost twice as such and last half as long.

I need a sale!

With luck I can hold out until Black Friday. Electronics are always on sale during the Black Friday Weekend. And if I can’t find one then maybe I can make it until January. After all, that’s the traditional month for White Sales.

And they say it’s not a black and white world!

 

 

At a Loss for Words

Michael 4 Comments

Choose your words carefully. Words hurt. There is power in words. Even the smallest words can be the ones that hurt you. You cannot be too careful with words. You can do more harm with words than [insert your favorite weapon here].

These sayings or things close to them you’ve heard since you were a child first learning to string along a few words to make a sentence. Maybe even before.

I’ve been hurt by words. I’m sure most of us have at some point been hurt by the words uttered without much thought by spouses and others, children and parents, bosses and coworkers. Sometimes we get over them. Sometimes the wound is so deep that takes years. Sometimes we never get over them at all.

I’m currently at a loss because of a word I keep hearing on TV, reading on line, even seeing in print! I don’t think those using it are trying to inflict pain or to shock the world. I believe they are unaware of the response the word illicits, at least from me. And that response is one where I sit in awe and wonder if they even know what that word means.

What word am I talking about? Remember, if you go further you are reading this at your own risk. The word is . . . curate.

Yes, curate. Suddenly everything in the world is curated. A year ago the only things curated were museums where they keep the curators. Now everything from bargain priced e-books to fast food taco/chalupa combos to for all I know CBD oil is curated. Two years ago there were probably less people who could actually define curate as there were who could define misogynist in 2015.

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In its most basic sense to curate is to organize and select for presentation. But it’s an editorial process and assumes one has examined, considered, and chosen the ‘most appropriate’ from ‘all available’ for presentation to a select group. A museum curator does not curate the entire museum but a very small display therein because of the expertise required and the care taken and time invested in the process. So when the ball park announces they have curated their sandwich selections it should mean more than they picked this year’s hot dog offerings based on the best deal they could get for that season.

Regular readers know I enjoy older “classic” movies. As a result, any cable, satellite, or steaming service I would consider subscribing to must have Turner Classic Movies (TCM) to feed my obsession. Lately the network has been using between movie time to advertise its wine club. In one 60 second commercial the word “curated” was used three times. Clearly their copywriter needs a good dictionary but failing that at least a decent thesaurus.

If you enjoyed this post please check out the home page where I present a carefully curated selection of mental ramblings. Hmm. Is that redundantly repetitious?

It’s All Falling In Place Now

Michael Leave a comment

Listen up…today is the first day of fall, the onset of autumn, the equinox (at 3:52am at my longitude). It’s also the best day to get your flu shot. Yes this post is going to be more PSA than post but if you can’t trust me, who can you trust.

It’s time you get a little background so you have at least a little faith in me when I say GET YOUR FLU SHOT! And I’ve been doing this blog for almost 8 years so I guess you deserve some background information. (Really, eight years. Can you believe that? My first post was on Nov. 7 2011.) (woah). November also marks my 40th year as a licensed pharmacist (Nov. 12 1979). (double woah) Of those 40 years I spent 32 of them working in hospitals and four of them I taught undergraduates at college of pharmacy and administered continuing education courses for registered pharmacists.Then last 4 I’ve been living the Life of Riley and let me tell you, Riley really doesn’t live a high life.

But I still have my license and keep up with my annual education requirements so I think I can still speak about drugs pretty well. And when that drug is the flu vaccine I can tell right now who should NOT legitimately get the annual flu shot. Nobody! Okay, as the people who give away free stuff, like your cell phone carrier, there are some exclusions. Maybe 10 of them. Not 10 exclusions, ten people. Not 10 groups of people, ten people. That’s how many people 2 years ago (the last year with complete data available) had anaphylatic reactions to some component of the flu vaccine in the United States. Ten. Out of almost 8 million vaccines administered.

To put that in perspective, out of 56 people who got the flu that year 10 were hospitalized. And almost eighty thousand people died. That’s 10,000 more people than were at the Super Bowl last January.

Considering those numbers, why would you not want to get a flu shot. Hmmm?

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“I never get the flu.” Lucky you but by getting the flu shot you help minimize the flu’s effect on the very young, the very old, and immunocompromised which depends on the “herd effect,” that is the more of the mass that is resistant to a pathogen the less severe its effect to the individual.

“I get the flu from the flu shot.” No you don’t. The flu vaccine is a dead vaccine and it cannot give you the flu. You may experience some discomfort at the injection site, it is a needle being stuck in you arm after all, and you may experience some tiredness while your immune system is doing its thing (which might go on for up to 48 hours), or you could be getting the flu because you waited too long to get the flu shot!

“I’m immunosuppressed or take immunosuppressive drugs.” So am I and so do I and I have and for almost 20 years. I’ve had a fkubsjotbgirveacj one of those years and I’m still here, other issues notwithstanding. The prohibition to vaccines for immunosuppressed individuals is restricted to live virus vaccines (MMR, Oral Polio (not used in the US any longer, the injectable vaccine is not a live virus), Chicken Pox (but not the new shingles vaccine). As we already noted, the flu vaccine is a dead, inactivated virus.

“I’m allergic to eggs.” Sorry, this excuse want out of business before I gave my first shot. Today’s flu vaccines are not grown in egg media. The initial antigen is still grown in eggs so there is the slightest chance that an egg allergic patient can experience a reaction. If that reaction is just hives or rash get the shot, if it’s shortness if breath have it done at a doctor’s office or hospital rather than at a campaign like at work unless you work at a doctor’s office or hospital. If you’re still concerned there is a product that is completely egg free. That is Flublok (r) by Sanofi Pasteur. While we’re talking about it, no vaccines contain aluminum, or mercury and most do not contain thimerosal. No single dose vaccines contain thimerosal or latex and some multi brands are stoppered with non-latex materials. Again, if you’re concerned about any allergies, ask. There is a flu vaccine right for you.

“I got the shot but still got the flu.” Unfortunately this can happen but if you should get the flu even though you had a flu shot for the season you are probably going to experience a less severe reaction. Why does this happen anyway? The flu virus is a cunning little critter and it can mutate during the season. Or you might have had the timing wrong when you got your shot, either too early or too late.

That brings us to timing and why the first day of fall is the best time for you to get that flu shot. Immunity from the shot does not happen as soon as the needle plunger squirts the solution into your arm muscle. It’s just there to get your own immune system ready to fight off the flu and that takes time, about 4 weeks to get to an effective level. Once your immunity is established it will stay at effective levels for up to 24 weeks. That takes us from October through April, bookending the usual flu season.

So, trust me. Get a flu shot today.

We now return you to your regular blog posts.

Food For Thought

Michael 2 Comments

It’s time to clean out the refrigerator. For me it’s that time every time this time of week. I’ll be getting ready to cook.

Perhaps I should start in the middle. When I was in the hospital, because of why I was there my sister naturally was also in the hospital. That took two members of my immediate family out of daily activities including, among other things, cooking. The other two spent much of their time at the hospital while were inpatients, limiting their available time for daily activities including, among other things, cooking. But friends and other relatives eased that burden by creating food chains or meal trains. When it became evident that I was destined for a much longer than anticipated hospital stay and recovery period, those friends and relatives along with friends of relatives and even relatives of friends presented us with the modern equivalent of hot casseroles, gift subscriptions to meal services. So many in fact that this Sunday we will be preparing the last of the gifted meals.

We in this case are my daughter and I. We’ve been spending a day a week almost every week since mid-June, first in her kitchen now in mine, preparing the following week’s meals. This is hardly unique. Much of the working world preps and even pre-cooks the upcoming week’s meals. Even when I was part of the working world I would do some manner of advance preparation. Then it was often a matter of my daughter and I chopping, seasoning, arranging, and storing in a suitable cooking vessel that day’s dinner before I went off to work and she to school each morning. Sometime after her return in the afternoon she cookrd and plated as I dragged myself in from another day at the rat races. (I always bet the #7 rat to win the 7th race by 7 lengths but he never came in.)

So you see, meal prepping is in our blood, or at least on our resumes. Little things like my daughter’s own entry into the working world and my entry into the limited lifting and standing world, coupled with the fact that we no longer live in the same house, make daily prep pretty inconvenient. But the once a week plan has really made life much easier for me.

Something else it’s made me is it’s made me think how fortunate I am to have a daughter who is willing to give up one of her two free days each week to spend with her father. It’s also made me realize that if there are a few others like her out there maybe this world isn’t destined for global annihilation as soon as the last of the Baby Boomers leaves it. The few hours it takes us to chop and season, arrange and cook, store and clean up make for some pretty quality time. And so does the eating and sitting and chatting and re-bonding after.

A family dinner really is a gift. Even a bunch of them all at once.

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All In The Family

Michael 7 Comments

My cousin and his wife are out walking. They are in Italy right now. Or maybe Germany. Could even be France or Switzerland. You see, they are hikers and are wandering around the Alps on this trip. I’m not sure when they started hiking. When I remember those childhood days of visiting him two whole states away I attribute his current walking prowess to his wife because as a 10 year old I seem to remember reluctance on his part to cross the street on foot. Now the two of them have even adopted a portion of the Appalachian Trail to keep it free of litter and debris.

I wish I could be like them. In my more agile years I had often trekked through various state, county, and local parks’ walking and hiking trails. I even had a hiking merit badge in the Boy Scouts. (Oops, they don’t use “boy” in that organization’s name any more. Something about not being inclusive. Someone should mention that to the Girl Scouts. But I digress.) I liked to walk. I still do. Now my walks are more along the line of up and down the sidewalk in front of my building and a half mile is as much trekking as I do at one time. I remember walking a half mile from the parking lot to the trail head in some of those parks.

Walking might come to me genetically. The hiking cousin takes his walks to the extreme but everyone else in my family is quite comfortable lacing on a good pair of walking shoes and hitting the pavement for a few miles close to if not daily. My daughter has taken her pavement pounding to the extreme in that she sees her daily two mile walk as just something to do between tooth brushing and showering and runs for her “real” outdoor exercise, a bad habit I might have instilled in her before she was even born. Fortunately I saw running for the folly it was and after a few years and a couple half marathons I returned to the peaceful pace of multi-mile walks. She on the other hand never met a marathon she didn’t like and has run the local marathon (half-marathon version) for seven consecutive years and shows no sign of breaking that streak.

BootsI’m quite content with my daily strolls at distances now measured in yards rather than miles. I do it with a cane and I do it slowly but I do it. I figure if I keep that up every day or at least almost every day I can still outrun heart disease, diabetes, high blood pressure, and crippling arthritis even at my slow pace. And if they get too close I’ll just beat them away with my cane. It’s one of those good sturdy aluminum jobs so I should be able to put a decent dent in bad fortune with it.

If I keep up with that routine, if I ever get to the Alps I might not have the stamina to hike my way around them but I’ll still be strong enough to make it from the parking lot to in front of the fireplace in the lodge. I figure that’s just the right distance for me!

The Fruits of Our Labor

Michael 2 Comments

Hello! I would say “Happy Labor Day” but to those who know the origins of the day that would be just as offensive as wishing those who understand the meaning of that spring holiday a “Happy Memorial Day.”

I wonder if even the organizers of big labor know why we have today. Last month a new group voted to be represented by a labor union in their quest for more equitable treatment in the workplace. Those were the local librarians. They are now represented by, and pay their dues to, the same union protecting the interests of that other maligned worker, the part time graduate assistant. No, I’m not making this up.

According to the U. S. Department of Labor, “Labor Day is a creation of the labor movement and is dedicated to the social and economic achievements of American workers. It constitutes a yearly national tribute to the contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity, and well-being of our country.” Noble sounding. Actually Labor Day is a commemoration of when 10,000 workers took unpaid time off to march from City Hall to Union Square in New York on September 5, 1882. They weren’t looking for lower deductibles for their health insurance or a guarantee 5% raise every year without a corresponding 5% increase in productivity. They were protesting 12 hour workdays over 7 day work weeks with preteen co-workers. They were protesting violence in the workplace ending in deaths of employees and employers over working conditions that would have resulted in their deaths anyway. They were protesting not having a life while at the same time not making a living. They were truly under appreciated, maligned, and frankly endangered.

Please take a moment today to pray for those killed in the 1800s so 59% of the American workforce can have today off with pay. Just don’t try to return a book to the library.

(In case you’re wondering, the union representing graduate assistants and librarians – the United Steel Workers. I guess even union officers have to find creative ways to continue living the life to which they’ve become accustomed.)

 

Life is Like a Roll of Toilet Paper

Michael 2 Comments

Memo to self: read those memos you write to yourself sometime! Sheesh! You almost missed it.

What did I almost miss? National Toilet Paper Day. Would it have been worth missing? Most assuredly. But my memo said if I could not come up with a post topic for today to rerun “Shopping Math” because of toilet paper’s predominant role in that post I guess. Who know what I’m thinking when I write these memos? Who know when I write these memos?

So, since I almost always do what I tell myself to do, especially now that I’m older and put up up fewer arguments in general, I will repost Shopping Math below. But first…did you know that toilet paper, although mass produced, in China by the 1300s, was not introduced to the US until 1857. In 1883, Seth Wheeler patented rolled toilet paper and the rolled toilet paper dispenser, forever instigating the argument, do you roll you paper over the top or to the bottom? Sometime today thank Seth for his inventiveness. You shouldn’t need to write a memo to yourself to remind you.

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SHOPPING MATH

It was approaching the mid 1960s and I was nearing third grade in elementary school. Rumors began circulating around town that the school would be moving to “New Math.” We who would be the beneficiaries of such a momentous shift saw it as a bright star in the heavens of learning. Particularly those of us with older siblings who would gleefully taunt us with “wait till you have to learn long division!” Ha! We showed them. Arithmetic is dead. Long live new math!

Yeah, well, that’s why I spent 25 minutes in the toilet paper aisle Sunday afternoon trying to decipher Ultra Strong Mega Rolls and come up with the best buy for my cash challenged paper products budget. I might have once aced the exam on the difference between a number and a numeral but that didn’t help while I was trying to mentally multiply 348 sheets times 9 rolls divided by $9.45 all the while having visions of bears singing about how wonderfully clean their charming toilet tissue makes them feel.

tpIt doesn’t help that there are no federal guidelines for bathroom tissue roll sizes. Double, triple, giant, mega, mega plus, and super were the adjectives in use in that aisle but even when used by the same brands, the same moniker did not represent the same number (numeral?) of sheets per roll. One package of Mega Rolls boasted 308 sheets per roll while another claimed 348 sheets per roll. Double Rolls had either 148 sheets or 167 sheets. None of that made it easier to figure out if 9 rolls for $9.45 was a better value than 12 rolls for $11.45. New math said “x is greater than y when the intersecting sets represent the lesser value of the total compared to the greater value of the sum of the variable(s) represented by the equation,” but old arithmetic said “Hold on there, Baby Bear. That’s not just right.” (If you are trying to follow along without a program, although everybody used it as a basis for comparison, I never found a roll claiming to be “Regular.” Not a good thing not to be amidst all that toilet paper.)

By the time my daughter entered third grade I was happy to see basic arithmetic had returned to the school curriculum and I could look forward to having help balancing my checkbook. Unfortunately even old math was not her passion and anything other than straight addition, subtraction, or division by ten was, though not a challenge, not actively pursued as a Sunday afternoon diversion. And so, now these many years later, I was left standing in the toilet paper aisle pondering if I would rather have “ultra soft” or “ultra strong,” whether the shape of the package would fit in my closet, and finally just going for the greatest number of sheets per roll figuring that equals the fewest number of times I’ll have to change the roll on the holder.

Satisfied I made the most logical if not the most economical choice, I checked my shopping list for the next item up. Hmm. Paper towels. I have to start shopping with a calculator.

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Memo to self: Rerun this if stuck for a post on August 26, National Toilet Paper Day. Really, August 26, not the first Tuesday following the first Monday in November. Who knew?

New Math

Michael 5 Comments

This morning I was in the car at with the radio on and as is often the case with commercial radio, a commercial came on. This particular show was a sports talk show with call in segments. I had it on because I am interested in listening to sports on the radio the same as those who listened to the first commercial broadcast were interested in election returns. It’s something to pass the time with and you spend lots of that time saying to yourself “what did he say?”

I mention this because those who sponsor sports talk radio shows must feel there is a lot of testosterone floating on the wavelengths and most of it needs supplementing as many, if not most of the commercials are for products said to enhance this or delay that or maximize thus and such. The particular commercial that pulled me from my musings over the wonderment that the people who call in to sports talk shows can actually use a phone was touting the prowess of those who need help with their prowess. It was for what I can best describe as an online EDC or, pardon my frankness, an Erectile Dysfunction Clinic. This particular “clinic” was quite proud of their success rate of 85% — now read carefully here and see if you too are jolted by this figure — and that 90% of their clients are happy with their results.

If I’m working the numbers right, and I think I am but I pulled out a calculator just to make sure, at least 5% of their clients are happy with failure. Do you think we should tell them?

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