Category Humor

Happy Halloween Eve

Michael 14 Comments

Happy Halloween Eve or as those in the know know, Happy Candy Corn Day! The second best holiday of the entire calendar. (The first best? Groundhog Day, obviously.)

In honor of Candy Corn Day, I’m not going to write about Candy Corn because of all the Candy Corn haters out there. I’m no fool. I keep controversy out of my blog, except for the occasional rant about guns in airports.  Here’s a good one. At the Pittsburgh airport (which two weeks ago set a record for most guns confiscated in a year with 11 weeks still to go), they stopped a bozo from Mississippi trying to go through security with a loaded handgun, two extra fully loaded clips, and a box of ammunition.  No word on if he claimed he forgot they were there. Here’s my question. The numbskull is from Mississippi, and he was stopped in a Pennsylvania airport with his cache. Did he just happen to find an irresistible sale on guns, clips, and bullets and snagged his booty in between visits with Aunt Emma and Great Grandmama? Or did he somehow manage to get all that hardware through security in Tupelo a week earlier? This is who you’re flying with people!

Anyway, let’s talk about Candy Corn. You will notice I capitalize the candy and the corn because it’s clearly worth special recognition. And I’ve given it just that. Over the years I’ve written about Candy Corn nearly as often as I have about guns in airports. (But nowhere near as often as Groundhog Day. I have my standards you know.) I think my favorite was this one, Why did the turkey cross the road? You know it must be good because it doesn’t even have Candy Corn in the title. Admittedly much of it recounts my adventure when I was stopped from proceeding up the road by a flock of wild turkeys (the non-alcoholic kind). But Candy Corn makes a surprise appearance toward the end. You should give it a read if you haven’t, or a re-read if you have. Take note, it was written in 2000 when we were being advised to keep our family holiday extravaganzas on the minimalist end of the banquet spectrum.

It was 2014 when Candy Corn got its first starring role in a RRSB blog, Children of the Candy Corn, when I mentioned the many things you can do with it, culinarily speaking. My favorite is still Candy Corn and Prosecco. And it was 2018 when in Corn, Sweet Corn, I expounded on Candy Corn’s claim to being the perfect food even though most autumn offerings push that nasty old pumpkin spice on everything and everybody.

So there you have it, a post not about Candy Corn. A post about other posts about Candy Corn yes, but not about Candy Corn. I stick to my agreements. And I promise never to forget I have an arsenal in my carry-on bag.

Happy Candy Corn Day!

There is no perfect in nature, not even Candy Corn, but there is a lot of beauty. In the most recent Uplift! Beautifully Imperfect, we ask, isn’t that what makes life so special? It’s one of our best and you really should take a couple minutes to explore why we say imperfection is so beautiful.

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Time zones

Michael 13 Comments

I just hung up from what I consider the most annoying, most useless, and most aggravating of all phone calls. Even more of all the above superlatives than the calls that promise they can submit my paperwork and get me the payroll reimbursements for my personnel costs during the pandemic shutdowns (which considering I have no business and thus no employees I would have paid, that would be such a great trick they should go on the Las Vegas stage with it). No the most annoying, most useless and most aggravating of all phone calls are the doctor appointment reminder calls.

I am absolutely serious about that. Those are the most of all the above and I hate them. Despise them. Abhor them. And yes, I’m probably making too much of them, but by gosh they bother me.

First of all, they aren’t the pleasant receptionist at the office going through the upcoming week’s schedule making the calls. They are the cheapest versions of the most primitive robotic callers that make the computer on the original Star Trek series sound like Barbra Streisand.  You must know the script.

“Hello. This. Is. The. Office. Of. Doctor. VeryImportant. Calling. For. PatientFullName. If. This. Is. PatientFullName. Please. Press. One. If. This. Is. Not. PatientFullName. Please. Press. Two. I’m. Sorry. I. Did. Not. Understand. Your. Response.  If. This. Is. PatientFullName. Please. Press. One. If. This. Is. Not. PatientFullName. Please. Press. Two. Thank. You. This. Is. The. Office. Of. Doctor. VeryImportant. Calling. To. Remind. PatientFullName. Of. An. Appointment. On. Tuesday. October. Twenty. Fourth. At. Ten. O. Clock. In. The. Morning. Please. Press. One. To. Confirm. This. Appointment. Or. Press. Two. To. Speak. With. Someone. To. Reschedule. I’m. Sorry. I. Did. Not. Understand. Your. Response.  Please. Press. One. To. Confirm. This. Appointment. Or. Press. Two. To. Speak. With. Someone. To. Reschedule. Thank. You. We. Look. Forward. To. Seeing. PatientFullName. Soon. Para. Continuar. En. Español. Presione. La. Tecla. Estrella.

If that’s not bad enough, these calls come after the text message reminders, email reminders, and reminders through the hospital system patient “Portal.” Portal schmortal. It’s an app just like McDonalds or Dominos!

Maybe I’m just a bit overly sensitive to these intrusions because after being discharged I now have follow-up appointments with every doctor I’ve ever seen in the last 18 months and each one wants to make sure I get there without delay. Sheesh!

Who they really should be calling are the doctors to remind them they have an appointment with PatienFullName Tuesday morning and get your ass into the office on time!

We start as one of one. Some find another as one of two. Some love others selflessly as one of one-plus. The luckiest of us learn to love and share as much as we can as one of many, becoming community. You read one of one and one of one-plus here, now read the rest of the story, one of many at Uplift!

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Encore again

Michael 7 Comments

Don’t look at me like that. I thought I was done too, but you know, sometimes it takes more than one trip to the curb.

When I’m not writing or speaking, I’m reading or listening. Listening to a really good speaker is fun because I can imagine what the speaker was doing or going through as I hear the words, see the movement, and feel the emotions as the speech unfolds. It gets interesting when the speaker speaks with an accent unlike mine. (Yes, we all have accents. Ask anybody who didn’t grow up in your block!) When the speaker’s first language is something other than English, I rarely have trouble understanding the words. While listening to a speaker who speaks English other than American English, I may have to listen a little closer but it too usually is not a problem (except for someone from Georgia who still isn’t sure the North won). But a writer who writes in English other than American English…well, I’m sorry, but I’m just not enough of a world traveler to be comfortable reading “colour” and not want to correct it to “color.” I’m getting better. It only took 60 some years of reading but I am getting used to the alternate spellings and the odd idioms, but, but … but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to “maths.” It makes more sense than the American “math,” given that it’s a shortened form of “mathematics,” but it just sounds too weird. There. I said it.

I walked into my daughter’s house a day last week and everything, everything was out of the kitchen cabinets and on the counters. (You remember her, the human the dog let join him on vacation in last week’s post.) “Moving?” I hesitatingly asked. “Oh good. I’m doing it right,” was her reply. Apparently, it’s a new (to me) cleaning strategy. When you want to do a serious declutter, make like you’re moving to a smaller home. If you wouldn’t take it to your new downsized abode, don’t put it back in the cabinet. I kind of like that. It seems much better than what some people refer to the Shinto method of decluttering. Hold something and if doesn’t bring joy to your life you don’t need it in your life. I have no proof of it, but looking at the sequence of events, I’m pretty sure that’s how I became an ex-husband.

A morning news article one day last week brought home the closeness of winter in a big way, which is most impressive considering it is not yet autumn. Folks at Pikes Peak woke up to six inches of snow. Here at the base of the mountains on the other side of the country we’ve been having cool nights and days alternating between deluge like rain and desert like heat. A wonderful combination to make weeds along the sides of the road flourish and flower.  They make a very pretty contrast the orange barrels that typically line the highways as an homage to the states that actually maintain their roads.

Yesterday was Constitution Day in the U.S.A.. If you missed it, don’t worry. Almost everyone did, including the local governments who order the fireworks displays for every other holiday or event you can imagine. Let’s travel through time. On July 4, 1776, the colonies’ representatives to the Continental Congress (the Second Continental Congress to be specific) signed off on the Declaration of Independence. [Yay, fireworks!] So we had a country, sort of, but no framework for the government to uh govern it. On November 15, 1777, that same Congress approved the Articles of Confederation that went into effect on March 1, 1781 when all the states ratified it. [Yay, but hold the fireworks.] The Articles established a framework, but it was more a frame of balsa instead of steel. In other words, it wasn’t terribly strong. From the government’s point of view. It treated the 13 states as 13 states, 13 independent states (as in little individual countries) bound together by the “Perpetual Union.” (Yep, that’s what it was called.) Then in May of 1787, a new batch of representatives from those sort of independent states saw the Articles needed a bit of an overhaul, and maybe they were a little rash not letting the central government do too much. So they convened the Constitutional Convention. Instead of fixing, they rewrote, and on September 17, 1787, the states’ representatives signed off on the new Constitution of the United States. [Yay! But wait, still no fireworks.] Finally on June 21, 1788, the required number of states needed to ratify the Constitution had done so and now we had a government to go along with the country. [Yay, but the fireworks people got tired of waiting (like we need another summer holiday anyway).] And so, in 2004 (yes, 2004!) Congress approved September 17 to be Constitution Day (technically Constitution and Citizenship Day) because why not. [Yay, still no fireworks but we’ll have them for Black Friday instead.]

Also for those residing in the U.S.A., today (September 18 to be clear in case you’re not reading this today), is National Cheeseburger Day! “Cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger.” (Bonus points if you can identify from whence that line comes.)  Discounts throughout this great land of ours can be had from penny burgers to full price but we have a new flavor. Check here for what is certainly an incomplete list of participating burger bistros.

And I bring this up only because it is so stupid it begs to be included.

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At least it wasn’t a handgun.

I certainly hope my brain is empty now. It would be nice if my sinuses followed suit, but you know, seasons change and all that.

How about changing your mind set whenever you stop and question, “What if..” You know the What-Ifs. The questions that start with “what if” and end with tragedy. We say we have the right answer to any What-If that comes your way. Check out our latest Uplift! for how we do it!

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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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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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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.

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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