Category House and Home

Read any good books lately?

Michael 3 Comments

There have been a lot of stories this year regarding book banning in America’s schools. Legislature has been presented in seven states and parents have approached dozens of school districts specifically to remove specific volumes or entire categories of books from school libraries. Legislation was introduced in Florida to not limit challenges to school library holdings to parents but allowing any individual to challenge any holding. In Texas, Llano County Commissioners Court forced the closure of the local public library (public library!) so librarians could review all reading material for their younger readers to make sure books are age appropriate. That’s just this year. And it’s only March. That’s following up on a flurry of year end interest around books and children. According to NPR, Texas State Representative Matt Krause put more than 850 books on a watch list, targeting materials he feels “might make students feel discomfort, guilt, anguish, or any other form of psychological distress because of their race or sex.” (npr.org, “A Texas lawmaker is targeting 850 books that he says could make students feel uneasy,” Oct. 28, 2021.) No word on whether he read those books.

Questioning whether the Honorable (Ha!) Krause read all 800+ books on his list isn’t me being ornery as usual. It’s a legitimate question. Not just by me but legitimized by those in the know. Deborah Caldwell-Stone, director for the American Library Association’s Office for Intellectual Freedom said in a recent interview, “We’re now seeing challenges pop up based solely on social media posts. A video gets posted of a parent complaining at a school board meeting, and within days, we see challenges across the country using the same reasons. People are complaining because they saw it on social media, not because they actually engaged with the book.” (Triblive.com, “Book challenges are becoming more frequent, driven in part by social media,” March 14, 2022.)

My concern isn’t about the books being challenged. Book challenges and banning have been going on basically since there were books. It’s the way these challenges are being conducted. Small numbers of individuals uneducated in the library sciences making noisy demands of schools to conform to their (the uneducated small number of individuals’) idea of decorum based on what other uneducated small number of individuals are writing on Facebook, et.al.. In a recent CNN poll, only 12% of Americans believed parents “should have the most sway over which library books are on the shelves” and twice as many felt teachers and school personnel should have more control over library content. (cnn.com, “CNN Poll: Economy and education could shape how Americans vote in 2022,” Feb. 11, 2022.) In the past, challenges were based on the challenger’s personal experience with the book (that means he/she/it actually read the book) and may have actually been able to intelligently debate the content of the book and verbalize why he/she/it felt it (the book) was inappropriate. Now, the majority of challenges are opposing titles simply because they are on some list of ‘controversial’ books. I pointedly use “title” in that sentence because so often the title is all the “concerned” parent knows about the book.

There is no evidence that the current wave of book banning is accomplishing what I think the challengers to the titles are intending, that is a purge of all material contrary to their mores. I’m just not sure they know what their intentions are. Or possibly what mores are. And if anything, the publicity for these books, the classic titles and those barely known to anybody but the most dedicated librarians, has generated increased sales for the books.

We’ve seen when we let anybody with a computer and the ability to cut and paste how America responds to a global pandemic resulting in a death rate twice the rest of the worlds, how we’ve graciously accepted the transfer of power, and how we are politely carrying on primary election campaigns as we run up to the mid-term elections this fall. Perhaps the proposed bans shouldn’t be of books whose only intent is to encourage thought and generate intelligent discussion, we should instead be banning social media whose intent increasingly seems to be to pass off incomprehensible opinion as fact among those who never spent time in their school library back in the day when it was their school library.

Once upon a time they lived happily ever after (3)

I’ll have mine with coffee please

Michael 2 Comments

This is the day sweet toothed snackers and pastry enthusiasts wait for every year – Pi Day, or as probably a large percentage of those pie eaters would write it out, and for as much as they care of its significance – Pie Day. Now that opens a whole new line of thought. Exactly what does pi actually do in the real world? And while we’re at it, why pi?

That second question is easier to answer. Everybody, even those insisting on it being Pie Day, knows pi (without the ‘e’) has something to do with math and some of those everybodies might even know it’s most closely associated with circles. Pi is the relationship of a circle’s, any circle’s circumference to its diameter. There’s a great two-minute video here that demonstrates that with a touch of humor and extra pepperoni. Although the concept of pi (again, without the ‘e’) was first demonstrated in the third century B.C., it wasn’t until 1706 on this side of the Common Era dividing line that British mathematician William Jones decided the Greek letter and symbol would make a dandy stand in for 3.14 etc.etc.etc. in calculations. But Leonhard Euler (yes, the is THE Euler) made it popular in his textbooks and justified the Greek Pi, corresponding to P, because pi is all about the perimeter (or circumference) of a circle. (In case you’re wondering, pie (with the ‘e’) has been around since about 6,000 B.C..)

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Now the first question isn’t actually hard to answer. It is hard to pin it down to less than a few hundred dozen applications that are possible only because somebody, sometime, somewhere worked out the calculations to make whatever it is work, using pi. These include radio waves that not only make AM radio possible, but blue tooth that is powering those high priced ear buds you have sitting on your desk.  Not straying too far from there, the GPS function of your phone wouldn’t be possible today if some engineer hadn’t tossed pi into an equation or three. And just that you can talk to your phone or home assistant is possible because voice recognition schemes all use pi to calculate and translate vocal waveforms into computerese. But, you ask, what can you do with it?

If you so wanted to, you could use pi to calculate how much water it takes to fill the kid’s backyard swimming pool, how much stain you need to cover the floor of the gazebo, or how much frosting to make to adequately decorate the surprise party birthday cake. Even more practical is determining what size electrical conduit to buy for that remodel you’re DIY-ing, or how much pie filling you need for the deep dish apple pie the kids are expecting after dinner. Yes, I know, there are charts and recipes for all these things. But now you know you could calculate the answer if all the computers in the world suddenly stopped working or worse, decided to take over and not talk to us anymore. Not too far-fetched you know. Didn’t you ever see “Colossus: The Forbin Project?” (Or one not so evil, like EMARAC from “Desk Set.” If the computers are going to take over, that’s the one I want, as long as Ms. Warriner comes with it.)

So now, go off and eat your pie today, today being Pi Day, or Pie Day if you must. And remember, ask not what pi can do for you, ask if you get whipped cream with it!

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The pursuit of clean, filtered air

Michael 2 Comments

I saw an interesting Tweet yesterday. “Going to the US in just a couple days. Planning to wear a mask whenever I’m in public. Looking for fun and creative (preferably not too political) reasons to give in case anyone asks why I’m wearing one.“

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The Tweeter(?) obviouslly lives outside the United States and wants to protect herself against a virus that is still raging, even though less actively than a few weeks ago, while visiting a country with a COVID death rate twice the rest of the world’s – and 82 times higher than her country! (WorldOMeter, “COVID Live – Coronavirus Statistics,” March 9, 2022)  According to a New York Times analysis of mortality, since the first Omicron case was reported in the United States in December 2021, Americans have been killed by the coronavirus at a rate at least 63 percent higher than other large, wealthy nations and was averaging about 2,500 deaths per day. (New York Times, “U.S. Has Far Higher Covid Death Rate Than Other Wealthy Countries.” Feb 1, 2022) The report went on to state that the only European countries with higher death rates are Russia, Ukraine, Poland, Greece, and the Czech Republic.

Oddly enough, even though the CDC changed their masking recommendations this month, the federal vaccine mandate was never enforced and now seems to be headed for reversal by the courts, and most limitations on businesses have been removed, people still want to protest them.  Brian Brase, the organizer of the so-called People’s Convoy that just burned countless gallons of gasoline and diesel circling Washington, DC, has called mandates an “infringement on their freedoms” as recently as this week. (Washington Post, “‘People’s Convoy’ organizers meet with GOP lawmakers amid pandemic-related demonstrations,” Mar 8, 2022).

You know that I recently was hospitalized with COVID pneumonia in spite of vaccines and mitigation (TRYing to stay 6 feet away from unmasked miscreants sneezing their offensive germs into public spaces like grocery stores and churches). I empathize with our aforementioned Tweeter because I will be going out in public still masked and standing a safe distance from those who aren’t. What should I say to them? Clearly somebody with more pickup truck parts than brains will come up to me and say, quite politely I’m sure, “What’s the f**k wrong with you, you retard? Act like an American and take that f**king mask off, a$$ho*e!” How do I know? Because it’s already happened, and it happened before the CDC issued new guidance. Months before the recent new guidance was released (which really requires people to have an understanding of the surge of cases in their particularly are and the relative burden placed on the local health care systems (read, too difficult for your average simian to even say, yet understand so let’s just concentrate on the no masks part)), the CDC guidelines recommended that those who were fully vaccinated, may attend small indoor gatherings with other fully vaccinated individuals without masking. This was interpreted as “you don’t need to wear no more masks any more yippee yahoo but let’s keep protesting masks anyway” by the under 65 (as in IQ score) crowd. And yes, I had been approached by inquiring sorts of that ilk, while in public with my mouth and nose stylishly clad in the latest surgical garb as to why I was wearing a mask. “Don’t you believe in science?”

Considering how adamant so many non-maskers were in demanding understanding on their positions and their rights to their freedom to breath the air as it was intended, I hope they will also understand why those of us who are medically challenged, immunocompromised, or just plain leery that a long term accord has been reached between the United States of America and SARS-COV-2, elect to exercise our rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of breathing clean, filtered air.

And while we at it, it seems to me that those still calling masks, vaccines, and other life-saving measures “infringements on their freedoms,” need to spend some time in the Ukraine right now.

Wake me in an hour please

Michael 2 Comments

You’re in for a treat this week. I am going to share the secret of happy, healthy living. And it has nothing to do with eliminating politicians but that’s always a good fall back. The secret that does not require physical violence is…are you ready…you should be laying down for … is naps!

The greatest cultures on earth embrace naps. I know, because I said so. Not the United States of America but we could hardly be called a one of the world’s greatest culture. But I digress.

This is not a new revelation for me, and likely not for you. Each time I’ve come out of the hospital I’ve succumbed to napping as part of my convalescence. Succumbed is the right word because the first few discharges had me fighting it all the way.  Americans don’t nap, we work in the afternoon – in the morning and late at night also. On rare, very rare occasions an executive may close his/her/its eyes for a short time after skipping lunch for a Power Nap. See, no great culture here. We can’t even nap restfully.

After the last hospitalization I felt so much more alive and in tune with my surroundings after a decent nap and I carried them over into my post recovery self life. Sort of. It didn’t last long. After a few months I was back to cramming as much activity as I could into those waking hours, even if the activity was just walking around looking for something to do. This time I altered things a little, I feel even better, and I think I can keep this routine going and invite you to join me. See, it’s not really a nap, not like the stereotypical afternoon siesta. It’s more of an intentional downtime, a short version or a riposo.  The riposo is the Italian version of a midday break. Many countries along the Mediterranean rim enjoy a multi-hour midday break. But it’s not a 3 hour nap. It is a time that work is set aside and family, friends, and self are the focus for a while. On my mini-riposo I used the time to call friends, to luxuriate in an extra long shower, to sort through my paints and make a list of what needs replaced, to make a fresh brewed iced tea, and to stretch out in the bed and close my eyes so I could really listen to the wind outside, and maybe even nod off for a short while. I shifted my priorities from “things I need to do today” to “I’ll get to them in a little while.”

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Napping goes back to the source of just about everything, the ancient Romans. Boy those guys were busy. When they weren’t persecuting Christian’s, invading the Middle East, building aqueducts, or developing goofy numbers, they ate, and after they ate, they napped. I’ll skip the few thousand years in between them and me and note that today’s Romans don’t sleep as much during the day as the ancient counterparts and may devote only 10 or 20 minutes to actual sleep. The key to a happy afternoon is that riposo time spent not sleeping but simply resting.

There are actual studies (people will study anything if you throw enough grant money at them) that track sleep patterns and most nappers are more emotionally balanced, better learners and communicators, have better memory, and are generally more relaxed while also being more energetic. (The Sleep Foundation, January, 2023)

So I’m going to (try to) do what comes natural to about half the world, turn things down for a short while every afternoon.   Maybe I’ll fall asleep or maybe I’ll just rest and recover from the morning. Somebody check up in me in an hour so. I don’t want to get too relaxed and happy. Somebody might use me as an example of a great culture!

Best Laid Plans and All That

Michael 10 Comments

Ah, the best laid plans of men and morons. Get your vaccines, get your booster, have your supply of masks for the rare moments when you allow yourself time out of your own hovel, do NOT plan on entertaining a crowd bigger than maybe two. Still, you get covid.

Still, I got covid. And I got it bad. Yes that’s why it’s been over a month since you’ve seen a post from me, I got it bad, bad. Now before we continue, who ARE these people who get covid and are back at work in 2 days, smiling and grinning and passing ridiculous legislation like they had nothing more serious than a nose job adjustment. And just who ARE their second cousins who can’t go into the office but will work from home. I am not kidding when I tell you that I couldn’t remember how to turn on my computer one morning. Maybe it is because I have so many serious health issues to start, including being immunocompromised, that my body figured anything nonessential was really not essential!

Let me take you through what really happens when you breathe masklessly in the same space as some poor soul like me, from the first “hmm, I’m tired,” through hospitalization and a variety of transfers, to making follow-up appointments with all the medical community where more morons lurk in elevators and parking lots “defending their freedom” from the inhumanity of 40 square inches of material across their faces.

For weeks I’ve been trying to figure out how I became infected. I do as much on line, by delivery, or curbside pickup as I possible can for my shopping. Although sometimes it just isn’t possible and a quick trip into a store to the counter and back to the car is called for.  I wish I could but I can’t say I have ever, ever, ever been anywhere where masking was 100% (and/or 100% properly) executed. So since the beginning of the year there have been a place or two where I could have been exposed. I really should have known better and continued to Zoom or stream religious services but I went into the building where loving neighbors as themselves seemed to be a foreign concept and after two weeks I redirected myself to on-line religion again. That was also 1 week before the first sign of something in the body not functioning the way the anatomy books indicated.

The date was January 8, a Saturday, and a day I had spent most of it putting away Christmas decorations. I attributed the new cough to the dust and detritus generated from wrapping and packing. January 9, I woke to chills and shaking and a fever that would have made a dandy show and tell for an infectious diseases lecture.  A Sunday trip to the local urgent care center resulted in confirmation that my blood pressure and pulse were up, my coordination was down, that was a dandy looking sweater I was wearing and yes, you could fry an egg on my forehead. A swab was sent on mission up one nostril and out the other (actually it just felt that way but both nostrils were attacked from below), and I was given instructions to drink “literally gallons of water,” and check the electronic chart for results the following morning. January 10, shortly after the pair of acetaminophen tablets seemed to be kicking in, the phone beeped its “Message from My Chart” beep and I fumbled my way through the facial recognition security (apparently I looked enough like me even that early in the morning) to get to the results  – positive.  Crap. Calls to everybody in my family who may have been around me from January 1 (seemed like a good date to pick to me and all 3 other people (I told you you I don’t entertain big crowds!) agreed) and to my primary care doctor, who as fate would have, was recovering from his own battle with SARS-COV-2. Thanks to my weakened immune system, he managed to get me scheduled for a monoclonal antibody infusion, but unfortunately scheduled 3 days in the future. That’s okay, it’s the stuff politicians and former presidents got, I could wait.

Not Vaccinated SectionOn Thursday January 13, I drove myself across town to one of 3 clinics administering the more precious than gold elixir. About an hour later I actually felt better. The fever was low-grade rather than raging, the shaking and chills were reduced to a mild tremor, the squeezing headache relented, and the sore throat, eyes, sinuses, nose, in short everything north of the neck stopped hurting.  I figure in 2 days I’ll probably be breathing again. Ha!

For the next 18 days I woke each morning to take my blood pressure, pulse, temperature, and oxygen levels, always the same (good, good, low grade, good) then I pretended I was Howard Hughes, sitting alone in a darkened room watching movies, one after another. As long as I sat I was comfortable. Whenever I moved, I would become physically tired. Doing two things at once like standing and cooking, took as much out of me as a quick 5k around the neighborhood. I could do my own cooking but I often had to rest between cooking and eating, in the process, discovering that lukewarm eggs really do taste as nasty as reported even though I never had reason to question it before. I got neither better nor worse, but never “bad.”

That changed on Sunday January 30, my 3 week anniversary of the nostril invasion and subsequent positive test result. I woke up to my usual unchanging vital signs, made my breakfast, rested, ate my breakfast, rested, cleaned from breakfast, rested, then considered a nap. And for a few hours it was yet another day in the endless line of days that I was told would be always tiring and be slow to recover from. And then it hit me. Exhaustion like I’d never felt it. I could not walk across the room, the 14 foot room, without stopping partway and resting. Deep breathing was absolutely impossible, as was standing up straight. Shallow breathing was almost as impossible. In fact, breathing suddenly seemed a nee and elusive concept nit yet learned. Fortunately, my sisters had just stopped by to see how things were going and we commissioned their car as a civilian ambulance. The question was asked which hospital and answered without my input, one about 15 minutes north. No, I gasped, turn here. A mere 2 miles away was a new neighborhood hospital with full ER services.

I’ll spare you the details of the hospitalization, the tests the scans, the multiple IV attempts before hitting vein, the ultimate transfer to “the big hospital” because the current site couldn’t comfortably deal with the multiple problems I have and felt it was safer for me there. More test, more scans, more questions (yes I do know I have only one kidney, duh), more doctors!

To make a long story short (yes, yes, I know it’s much too late for that), all the days in and tests reviewed indicate my oxygen is fine and my lungs quite clear, I just cant breathe. With lots of exercise and home based therapy, I can strengthen the muscles that work the lungs which is where the virus decided to attack me and be back to my baseline by summer, maybe? (Everybody else gets pneumonia, I have to be different!)

So I leave you with this. If you’re going out, please wear your masks. Maybe you feel they infringe on your right to who knows what and who really cares, but when you don’t wear it, you are infringing on my right to live. Sorry but – I win. Wear your f-ing mask!

A serious send off – seriously, wear your mask, wash your hands, don’t breathe my air. If we were in the midst of some sort of global automotive crisis you know  darn well you wouldn’t take mechanical advice from (shudder) politicians, so don’t get your medical advice from your mechanic. If you’re really feeling the need to protest, don’t get vaccinated and put only yourself at risk for a cruel and unusual death. Leave the innocent bystanders standing please.

Shields up – phasers on stun

Michael 9 Comments

‘Tis the season! Time again to remind everyone the difference between vaccines and force fields.

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Not Vaccinated Section (4)

If you don’t want to get the COVID vaccine, don’t, but please, don’t make up reasons. Just that you’re stupid, selfish, irresponsible, and probably one of those people who wears shorts in the dead of winter are plenty enough reasons. Saying you won’t because the vaccine doesn’t work or else why would we be getting all these new cases isn’t a good enough reason.

Why do the people with Twitter and Facebook accounts read the stories that COVID cases are rising and even those who are vaccinated are testing positive, but they don’t read the ones that the vaccinated people getting positive test results are typically asymptomatic or exhibit mild symptoms while the unvaccinated are the ones filling up the hospitals and funeral homes/crematoria?

As a reminder, vaccines work inside the body. They assist the immune system to defend against an intruder virus. When a virus enters the body, the immune system goes to work. It can’t do its job “out there.” It works from home you might say. I would say you can use that as interesting talk at a cocktail party, but… well…

You all know the drill. Get vaccinated and boosted, wear your masks, wash you hands, keep your distance, and eventually you will get to go back out. To those who think that’s a good idea, thank you for your help to save the human race.

Cute stories will return next week.

(PS: Now those are light sabers!)

(PPS: Yes I know I’m mixing my Trek with my Wars. Tough! 😝)

I remember…

Michael 5 Comments

Oh we are so very close. Just a couple days separate us from Christmas which means it’s well past time for a Christmas movie post.

I didn’t talk about Christmas movies last year. We were too busy praying. Actually, one can never be too busy praying but last year I put the prayer out in public. But this year, let’s talk movies again.

I’ve visited this subject four time before, the most recent from 2019 when I revealed my then current favorite Christmas movie. At the time I said, “I say my current favorite because like children there can be no real favorite among Christmas movies. The favorite is the one making you smile today or remember yesterday, the one encouraging a perfect alternative to an imperfect world and providing an escape from the ordinary.” I stand by that thought still. There can be no favorite among the 873 bazillion holiday film offerings, even if only a handful are truly good movies. If they make you feel good, then they are. Except Die Hard. It isn’t, it never was, it never will be, end of discussion, period. (And it’s not a western either even though the main character does say, “Yippee ki yay.”)

When you get down to it, almost any of our favorite “Christmas movies” can be reworked to be set in some other month, some other season, with some other set decorations, and would play just as well. Maybe we set the bar too low for what we expect of holiday film fare. Maybe we really need those classics that wouldn’t work any other time of the year. Ebeneezer Scrooge would not convey the same sense of repentance in August. A Christmas Carol is a Christmas movie.

My current favorite most likely would work any other time of the year. In fact, the basic story is released dozens of times every year, and I’m surprised Hallmark or Lifetime or whoever churns out a new Christmas story every evening between Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve hasn’t lifted the very plot for one of theirs. My current favorite wasn’t even in the theaters at Christmas, its general release coming in mid-January although it had a Boston release on New Year’s Day. That’s not at all unusual. There are more Christmas movies released in the summer months than any other time. Many studios feel winter releases won’t generate the type of first weekend or first month income their investors demand. One of the greatest Christmas movies of all time, Miracle on 34th Street, was released in June, the classic White Christmas was released in October, and for the younger crowd, it was barely October when Elf arrived. However, you have to give credit to George Minter Productions who managed to get the definitive Christmas Carol starring Alastair Sim as Scrooge released on Thanksgiving Day in the U.S. in 1951. No, release date does not a Christmas movie make.

If you are to go by set decorations and locations, it would be difficult to call my current favorite a very Christmassy Christmas movie. The tree in the Poseidon Adventure gets more screen time and there are few, precious few, presents unwrapped. Most of the action is in a court room and there is one scene where our top credited stars milk a cow. Other than snippets of “Jingle Bells” heard occasionally, there is no Christmas music in a movie featuring a half dozen full songs. Appearances don’t seem to make a Christmas movie either.

So what does make a Christmas movie and why should my current favorite rank so high this year? It has the same unknown last year’s favorite has. Imperfect characters making imperfect plans, and ordinary people doing ordinary things while dealing with ordinary problems. Somehow, among all that mediocrity come glimpses of joy until the end when you find yourself smiling amid the improbability of a happily every after ever happening and the true desire to wish it could.

2021-12-22 (1)My current favorite Christmas movie is the 1940 production of “Remember the Night,” pairing Fred MacMurray and Barbara Stanwyck four years before they team up to become the couple you love to hate in “Double Indemnity.” Here they are the non-couple you want so badly to become the couple you love. All the printed synopses are blah. The story they describe isn’t the movie at all. I saw this movie years ago and promptly forgot about it. Maybe it was where I was in my life. Maybe I wasn’t looking for joy. I saw it in the summer and maybe the joy was there but lost in the stifling heat of July. I saw it again a few years ago at Christmas and fell in love with it. This year I can’t get enough of it. To me, it really is “a perfect alternative to an imperfect world.”

As I was doing some research for this post, I discovered it is #69 on Rotten Tomatoes list of top Christmas movies. There are any number of questionable offerings ranked higher, including their number 2, but at least Die Hard isn’t among them and that my friends, is this year’s true Christmas miracle!

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Watch “Remember the Night” trailer

The monster under the bed

Michael Leave a comment

Think back. You were 5, maybe 6, possibly an overly protected 13, and you wouldn’t go to sleep, couldn’t go to sleep, until one of the adults in the house checked your room for the monster than lived in the closet, hid behind the dresser, or worst of all, stayed under the bed from where he would spring out in the middle of the night to devour innocent 5, maybe 6, or possibly overly protected 13 year olds. Night after night, first one adult, then the other, would scour your bedroom looking for a monster who was never there to be found. Well, I found that monster. He is living under my bed. But he is not interest in devouring 5, 6, or oven 13 year olds. No he eats  anything and everything that hits the bedroom floor during the night. Or at least tries.

Lately I have been experiencing a rather clumsy period. I manage to put myself to bed each night fairly well unscathed but once I am in there, nestled between the sheets, my natural grace falls asleep before I do and I am left an inelegant, clumsy fool. I roll over attempting to find a more comfortable position and my arms must flail about the room, knocking everything that once was on the bedside table onto the bedside floor. Oh but there it doesn’t remain. I spring from my bed as I hear the clatter and wonder with my head what could be the matter (sorry, Mr. Moore).

I know there used to be a water bottle, watch, phone, book, another book, tablet, e-reader, charger(s), tissues, reading glasses, and a lamp on the table when I got into bed yet nothing but the glasses remain. As I reach to the floor to begin repositioning the pieces, I run my hand over the carper but feel nothing but carper. Further out from the bed I reach, leaning precariously over the side and still feel nothing. Nothing at all. Not even things that began the night on the floor like the pair of slippers that should be there. Farther I reach, twisting my body, stretching my arm, leaning out into the dark void until little more than my lower legs are holding me up on top of the mattress lest I too join the missing articles that once cluttered the nightstand.

Cursing the darkness I remember the adage “better to light a candle than curse the darkness,” but there who in their right mind keeps candles in the bedroom in the 21st century. Cursing the lamp that seems to have magically returned to its customary place I switch it on and survey the bedroom floor. And there I see – no water bottle, no watch, no phone, no book, no other book, no tablet, no e-reader, and no tissues, although I do spy several chargers dangling off the nightstand from their cords still plugged into the power block still plugged into the wall. Where did they all go? I refocus my gaze farther away from the bed, toward the wall, farther still to the door, and just as I am about to attempt to peer around corners to see if they bounced all the way to the hall, I remembered the monster.

Yes, the monster. It must have been the monster, the monster who has returned from ages past to live again under my bed. The monster has sworn off eating children, adopting now a vegan diet – monster version. The monster for whom water bottles, watches, phones, books, other books, tablets, e-readers, and tissues would make a yummy meal. That monster. And I slowly lean all the way over, lift the bed skirt, and there, there, there is no monster but there are my water bottle, watch, phone, book, another book, tablet, e-reader, and tissues, all there where the monster had gathered them before leaving them uneaten as he ran for cover when he heard my begin my frantic search.

It had to have been the monster. How else could anything and everything I drop anywhere on that bedroom floor end up an arm’s length under the bed. Clearly, I have a monster under my bed. That and I have to stop kung pao chicken so close to bedtime.

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Better late than hurried

Michael Leave a comment

I’m late with this week’s post. I was heeding my own advice and after all, it’s not like I’ve a contract with anyone other than myself to put any of this drivel out into the – what’s this week’s buzzword? – metaverse. (Words are interesting only to the point that people can make such a big deal out of them. In their own right, words, even buzzwords, are merely tools. The right strings of words conveying thoughts, hopes, promises, dreams, fantasies, humor…those are interesting.) (But I – all together now – digress.)

2 + 2 5 (11)I was heeding my own advice to take time at the start of December and see where the year has taken me, or started me toward, and what is left to do or want or need before this year becomes last year and next year turns into now. It’s my idea that the beginning of December should be a time spent reviewing the year, clarifying unmet goals, tidying loose ends left by the current year so we can meet January and the new year with the gusto they deserve! (Yes, those we my exact words. More on that in a few sentences.) We more often rush through December as if running away from the carnage left by the preceding eleven months. (More of my words. I like the carnage reference, particularly to address this year.) (Sorry, once again, I – say it with me – digress.)

As yesterday was the first of December (First of December?) (no, that would make it more special than it is, like the Fourth of July – just first of December), I looked back at my goals for 2021 and pondered what I could do in the remaining 31, now 30 days to exit this year on a high note. Yesterday was also a Wednesday and I usually write out my thoughts for the post and schedule it so they are there waiting to share your morning coffee or tea or juice with you. Isn’t that a pleasant thought? Anyway, yesterday’s Wednesday I was busy contemplating my year in review. (I also spent a couple hours in a dentist’s chair but that’s beside the point.)

I’m not sure I’d call my 2021 a rousing success, but I don’t think it was the downer many people may have experienced. Knowing what I know about worldwide pandemics, “return to normal” was not on my list of things to do for 2021, figuring to hold that for another 2, possibly 3 years. Not that I’m clairvoyant, but I was forced to study such things in school and even though school was (wow!) over 40 years ago, viruses haven’t changed. Well, actually, they have, and that’s why I didn’t figure to be completely normal this year. Not that I’m ever completely normal but that “things” would return to normal. (And again, I digr……) (Moving on!) My expectations for 2021 were modest and still I haven’t satisfied them all. The trick now is: which will be deferred to next year, which will be kicked to the curb, and which will be the focus (or foci) of intense and unrelenting effort at completion before the clock strikes midnight on the last day of the year.

What the goals are is not important. That there is a plan to deal with them is. Why now? Who cares? Does it matter and will it make a difference? In order, why not, more than you know, more than you know again, and it sure will!

You may think, and I am right there with you, that December’s concerns should be centered around shopping, wrapping and baking for the upcoming holidays, school concerts, football playoffs, and holiday parties. But, particularly for those working, December days are also filled with short staffing periods, overtime requests, year-end reports, and demands from “upstairs” that this, that, or something else get done, written, and “by on my desk” by tomorrow! Even at home there are demands as decorations don’t hang themselves, dinners don’t cook themselves, holiday linens don’t freshen themselves and festively decked out trees don’t grow on trees. All of this is packed into a month that those whose only jobs are to opine and posit tell us is for family, positive work/life balancing, and retaining (or regaining) our mental health. (Here’s a little trivia for you regarding December. Although crime in general typically peaks during the summer months, most murders are committed in December (U.S. Justice Department).)  So would it kill you to spend some time deciding how you want to spend your December.

And so this is why you didn’t get to read this with your morning coffee, tea, or juice.

To read how to prioritize, please visit my work site and the blog post, “Epilogue.” It opens with “If the year was a book, December would be its epilogue. Epilogues summarize and clarify, often wrapping up those loose ends in the plot the action left in need of tidying, or of characters’ untold dispositions.” That’s what I want December to be, or at least the beginning of the month – a time to summary the year and clarify our actions to come.

And finally, since I’ve already thrown your day off schedule, let me ask you to visit the rest of the web-site when you get there. Some of you may recall I mentioned the education foundation ROAMcare I partnered with a friend and former colleague to establish last year. We began the foundation to instill enthusiasm and energy in the workplace, particularly pharmacies and health care systems given that was our background. As we reviewed our material and considered comments, we determined the concepts we are presenting are suitable for everybody and have refocused our efforts to the general public. We are in the process of removing specific pharmacy references from the site and that’s actually one of the goals I want to satisfy this year. On our home page we encourage all visitors to “Express your resolve, refresh your enthusiasm, add passion to your purpose, and put more care into everything you do in your personal life, your professional life, your family life, and everywhere they meet.” I invite you to visit ROAMcare.org, read our blogs, listen to our podcasts, or visit our Motivation Moments and let me know if you found them useful or at least not a waste of time. Thanks!

A Prayer for Thanksgiving 2021

Michael 4 Comments

ThanksgivingPrayerI published the post below in 2017. The world has changed since but our feelings toward it seem about the same. That no specific events are mentioned may be why I can look at that today and not be surprised that it doesn’t intimate the world’s current events. I wonder if it would have been as appropriate in 1945 or will be relevant in 2067. I wasn’t here yet for the former and don’t expect to make it to the latter so I will concentrate on 2017 and 2021 and find we are still just as clueless. Pity.

So here is my tale and my prayer from 4 years ago. I will repeat the prayer a few times today. Hopefully I won’t forget to say it on some other days also. That would be the real pity.

Happy Thanksgiving – or maybe we start with just Happy Thursday. Non-holidays need prayers too.

Today is Thanksgiving in the United States. It was or will be likewise around the world. Everybody is thankful for something and most nations have managed to work in a holiday to legitimize the feeling.

I don’t know how others do it but Americans have been managing to delegitimize feelings quite efficiently lately. We’ll tout our tolerance and claim to accept all and then slur anyone who doesn’t feel the same and blur want for welcome. We support everything and everyone as long as it or they support us in the manner to which we think we should be accustomed. Our gratitude for what we have is matched by our appetite for what we don’t.

Sometime today while I think of all that I am thankful for I’ll manage to miss most of them. So will everyone else. Mostly we’re not bad people as much as clueless ones. Clueless to the differences between our reality and the one that’s really out there. And clueless to how much we rely on what we don’t even know is happening.

So when you give your thanks today that hopefully you won’t restrict to just today I offer you the prayer I started today with.

Heavenly Father, this is the day set aside to give thanks for Your surpassing goodness to human beings. Let me give proper thanks for my blessings  –  those I am aware of as well as those that I habitually take for granted. And let me use them according to Your will.

Happy Thanksgiving today and every day you think to be thankful.