Tag Blogging

Shields up – phasers on stun

Michael 9 Comments

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

Not Vaccinated Section (5)

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! 😝)

RRSB Persons of the Year

Michael 7 Comments

Nearing the end of the year most everybody will be writing about the year in review (ugh) or resolutions (still ugh but perhaps not disgustingly so). I, because I am me, will embark on my own end of year tangent and instead, celebrate the RRSB First (and Likely Only) Persons of the Year Award.  Yes, you read that correctly – plural “Persons,” singular “Award.” My choice for outstanding individual of 2021 is two individuals.

After careless considerat…  err, careful consideration, I’ve concluded there are two people worthy enough to be the Person of the Year, umm Persons of the Year and they is, I mean are: (drum roll, fanfare, etc, etc), Washington’s newest power couple, Liz Chaney and Joe Manchin.

Yes, that is a match made in Purgatory but they, and as far as I can tell, they alone are the epitome of Representative of the People. There are 535 elected voting representatives in Washington, 100 Senators, 435 members of the House of Representatives. Of those 535 people, 533 are more comfortable voting however their party tells them rather than those who hired them for the job. Only Chaney and Manchin have to the point of loss of standing and threats of censure, voted as they felt best benefited their constituents rather than their party leaders.

Seriously, as we enter 2022 maybe our Congress needs to resolve to improve themselves and the first step is for all 535 of them to write 100 times “I represent the people who voted for me” on any handy blackboard. Then they can rip out the aisles running down the middle of each chamber in that big white building on the hill and rather than assigning seats by party, get all the representatives of each state to sit together like they did when Congress was a new idea back in 1700s. Committee assignments will be made by members’ ability and background and leadership positions will limited to those identified in the Constitution. Yeah, that’s a bunch of pipedreams but they make just as realistic set of resolutions as wanting to lose weight and exercise more, but a guy can dream.

Now, getting back to Joe and Liz, my Persons of the Year. I agree it’s a sad state of affairs when politicians are singled out for bucking the system but face it, if your reps are always voting however their party leader tells them, why are they there. Let’s eliminate 531 positions and leave just one Democrat and one Republican in each house and they can vote on everything by rock, paper, scissors. Makes as much sense as what they’ve gotten done this year their way.

Manchin-Chaney

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!

2021-12-22 (2)

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.

2 + 2 5 (12)

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.

Oh so close!

Michael 2 Comments

It’s been a couple weeks now, I was reading the daily headlines and took note of one, “Ginny Mancini Dies.” Of all the thoughts I could have had, the one I had was, ”Wow, she must have been 100!” and not hyperbolically. I knew Henry Mancini would have been almost 100 because my father would be almost 100 and they went to school together. As I read the obituary, I discovered she was close, but not quite. The former Ginny O’Connor was 97 years, 3 months old at the time of her death.

Today’s post is not about Ginny Mancini, nor is it about Henry, not even my father. It’s about 97 year olds and other peri-centenarians.

Undoubtedly you remember some of my best posts have to do with obituaries. Well, not completely true, but I find them fascinating even if I wrote about them only twice, and one of those two times rather obliquely. It really doesn’t matter who is the subject of the obituary, (not to me, but I won’t speak for the family), it matters what is said in those first few phrases. Naturally you can’t get to the meat of the matter without getting past the name and age. We already talked about those names (What’s in a (Nick)Name), so now let’s look at those ages. For the last few weeks, I’ve been doing just that, looking at the ages of those memorialized in the daily obituary column. I’ve discovered a really popular age for people to move on to Phase II, at least for the last couple weeks, is 97.

20200430_164951On one single day I noted seven of the 15 death notices were for 97 year olds. One of the others was 95 and another 93. The following day featured obits at four more folks aged 97 and one 98. Over the course of that week, I counted fourteen 97 year olds, three at 96, five 95, two who were 91, and the lone 98 year old. (Yes, I did.) (Really.) (So don’t believe me, I know I did!!) That’s a bunch of almost centenarians. During that whole week I also noticed one news article noting the upcoming 104th birthday of a local citizen and of one other joining the ranks of the century-folks. These weren’t just your run of the mill, “John Doe Turns 100” fluff pieces. They were in-depth discussions on the secret to long living, happy lives, and what’s the most surprising thing you’ve seen in your century of roaming the earth. That’s important to me and it’s equally important to me that I get to 100. I find myself fascinating and deserve to be interviewed too.

The surest ways I’ve found for a non-athlete, non-politician, non-celebrity type person to be queried on the state of the world are to win a Nobel Prize or turn 100. In my case, turn 100. But in that one week I spotted only two hitting the hundred (or better) mark while twenty people had their famous 15 minutes distilled to three minutes or less reading time for just getting oh so close.

You know, even considering how old I feel on a lot of days, especially after rising but before coffee, getting to even “just” 97 seems like such a long way away. I wonder what Nobel categories I could sneak my way into.

It’s that time again

Michael Leave a comment

Once upon a time they lived happily ever after (2)Did you notice we shifted time last week? Most of us. If you didn’t notice then you probably picked up on it if you were on social media, read any newspaper editorials, and tuned into a television or radio talk show as we once again took part in the semi-annual “why do we have to change the clock let’s stay on daylight saving time all year long” debate. Apparently in the last five days, traffic accidents have gone up 13%, hearts attacks increased by more than 50%, and two more glaciers have disappeared. I don’t know about the glaciers but the other stuff indeed I’ve read with my own eyes. Personally, I don’t care about whether we do or don’t have daylight saving time (and yes, that is the correct nomenclature regardless of the bazillion people who say daylight savings time). What I don’t understand is why if all these people are invoking that it is not natural to shift time twice a year are not also invoking a steady diet of natural, AKA standard time. Apparently they don’t want to be bothered with changing time but enjoy the extra hour of daylight at the end of the day rather than the beginning. The other thing I don’t understand is that 19 states have legislature pending to adopt year round daylight savings time and one to adopt standard time as the, um, well, standard time. That, by my rudimentary grasp of mathematics equals 20, and 20 from 50 equals 30 states who don’t care. Thirty is greater than twenty so invoking the age old democratic dictum that majority rules, let’s just leave it all alone. (Of course, exceptions to old dicta are made for former Presidents who can’t count.)

It’s that time again doesn’t mean the only thing we have to discuss this week is time. No, that’s just the warm-up. The main event is that it’s that time again to clear the desk of all the little sticky notes of stuff that has to be mentioned before the weight of them buckles the left front desk leg. For instance, did you know:

Pennsylvania’s state senate just passed a bill, now to go to the state house for debate, eliminating the need for a permit to carry a weapon, either open or concealed. Actually firearms, not all weapons. Apparently somebody has been reading only part of the Second Amendment again. From a news article, proponents of the bill said, “law-abiding gun owners should not need the government’s permission to carry a firearm.” I’m writing my state senator tomorrow insisting he introduce legislation saying that law-abiding citizens should not need the government’s permission to drive a car, own a car, practice law, medicine or cosmetology, be a nurse, pharmacist or barber, bury people, cremate others, or drive school busses filled with our future bullies, er leaders. And we certainly don’t need the government’s permission to set our clocks twice a year.

Also in the news: Dixie State University is close to changing its name, one often associated with the Deep South and slavery, but not without local opposition. It seems the name has a lot of support because the region has no history of slavery but that “Dixie” references its attempt to become a major cotton growing area outside the Deep South in the late 1800s. So now you’re confused also. Well maybe this will clear things up. The proposed new name of the college is Utah Tech University. Who knew Utah was a big cotton grower?

Circling back to Pennsylvania: An attorney was having difficulty navigating his way through the metal detector at the Allegheny County Courthouse. After removing his coat and emptying his pockets of wallet, coins, and keys, and still setting off the detector he asked the guard to “wand” him because it was his suspenders that were causing the alert. He knew that because he almost always is stopped there because of his suspenders. Apparently the guard was not impressed with His Dapper-ness and instructed him to take off his suspenders which the now less than dapper lawyer did along with the trousers said suspenders were supporting, and passed through the metal detector in socks, shirt, underwear, and apparently a good measure of attitude. The attorney was charged with disorderly conduct. A newspaper article detailing the incident reported the lawyer stated, “(the) security guard “got in my personal space” and demanded that he take off his suspenders or leave. (The attorney) said he was frustrated and did not want to be late for his pro bono work representing people in the family court.” Perhaps the next time he is off to do his pro bono work for the people he may want to invest in a belt. No word on if he was already late because he incorrectly reset his watch earlier in the week.

Happy Veterans’ Day to me and many many many many many others. Every now and then I have to remind myself that I really am a veteran. I’m not permitted to claim protected veteran status thanks to an executive order dating back to the Obama administration conferring said status only to those having served during combat or awarded the Armed Services Medal which was established on June 1, 1992. I was separated in March 1992 with no combat duty.

I think that’s enough although I could mention how Prince Harry claims to have forewarned of the Capitol riots, that Dr. Oz, an Ohio Native and a current New Jersey resident is mulling a run in the Pennsylvania 2022 Senatorial race, or that a cow closed a major roadway in England for an hour, a morning rush hour, while 10 police officers attempted to, ahem, corral the bovine. I thought cows jumped over the moon, this one jumped over the fence. And if that cow was planning on a trip to the moon, or at least to the International Space Station, she would be doing it in a diaper, just like the returning astronauts had to wear on their eight hour trip home because the toilet in their SpaceX capsule was broken. Not to worry that we didn’t get to these. There will be more time again some other time again for more of that time again.

Better to be like a cat on a hot tin roof than act like a little tin god

Michael 4 Comments

Do you know there is an actual, literal, honest to goodness dearth of tindioms? Tindiom? That’s an idiom with tin in it. There just aren’t a whole bunch of them. Those two in this post’s title, tin ear, kick the tin, and put a tin lid on it are about the lot of them. But why this fascination with tin anyway you ask. And that’s a darn good ask if you ask me. Oh, you did. Well, I went in search of a tindiom that I could twist about to title this selection because tin is the traditional tenth anniversary gift and this weekend The Real Reality Show Blog celebrates ten years of driving drivel through the ethernet. The first post of what would become one of the least read Internet offerings ever was launched on November 7, 2011 (at 6:11am) (EST).

It dawned on me that for all that time, through all those 926 posts, except that I encourage flu shots and am inordinately fond of groundhogs one day a year, you don’t know much about me. That’s okay, I don’t either. If I told you anything about me then it likely has little bearing to what’s happening with me now anyway. Then was a while ago. It was a cancer diagnose ago, a kidney transplant ago, a handful of trips to a couple oceans ago, too many surgeries to count ago, lost friends and neighbors ago, a career ago, 120 pounds ago, and three residences ago. And there are a handful of sinces since then too. There’s been new chances since, new career since, new purpose since, and new friends since. There are probably other agos and more sinces, but you get the idea. Ten years is a long time, even for an old fogie like me.

I could say, “Hi, How are you? It’s a pleasure to meet you. Let me tell you something about myself,” but you have to understand that by next week that something might no longer be relevant. Might be no longer relevant? No longer might be relevant? Well, the first thing you should know about me is that for ten years and 926 posts, I never met an infinitive I couldn’t split, a clause I couldn’t subordinate or a metaphor I couldn’t mix. I may talk a good game but when it comes to writing it, well, that’s a whole different kettle of ball games.

Before I was forced into an early medical retirement I spent over 40 years as a pharmacist working in hospitals and nursing homes and home care agencies, wrote more than a handful of management papers, presented at conferences across a couple countries, and rose very high in the management ranks of one company before it was merged into another then rose sort of high in another, yet when somebody meets me they want to know (and yes, this is true and I have indeed by asked this more than once) if there is a class in pharmacy school where we learn how to pour out of a big bottle into a little bottle and can I do it without dripping stuff all over the counter. Maybe, I don’t know. I never worked in a drug store.

Today I use what I learned managing hospital pharmacies to encourage those are likewise today engaged in any leadership, management, supervisory, or people directing role, that there is more to leading than just saying “follow me” and hope they come. I’ve partnered with a friend who’s background is similar in some respects, varied in other, and even more colorful in some to establish a leadership education foundation (roamcare.org) where we write blogs and articles (and hopefully soon, books), present podcasts, speak at conferences, and generally “refresh workplace enthusiasm.” That’s our motto: Refreshing workplace enthusiasm.

We’ve been doing our part to refresh people’s enthusiasm for a little over a year and it’s a hard row to hoe. Even ten years ago there was much less competition for attention on the interwebs and somehow, even the RRSB blog managed to gather over 800 followers. How many actually read it is suspect. When the email goes out with a new post, the entire post is included so there is no reason for somebody to go to the site or reader to enjoy my content, but I know emails are opened and I assume those are being read by loyal enthusiasts of whatever this is.  I’m fascinated with those who can publish their first blog and I’ll notice “1400 people liked this post” and 700 of them commented on it. Someday I hope our ROAMcare operation has as loyal readers as I and as many readers as others.

So there now, somehow I managed to come up with 900 words or so when I had nothing but I knew I wanted to use “tin” in the title – and managed to use it twice! Now you know, if you hadn’t already suspected, that I’ve been sitting down to write first a couple times a week, now at least once a week, (and for a fortunately very short time 5 times a week) for some 520 weeks with I think 3 or 4 weeks off when I was in intensive care and there was no available outlet for the laptop among all the electronic lifesaving doodads that were plugged in.

If I’m still around ten years from now I hope I can give you an update on the foundation. I suppose I should start now figuring out how to work “china” into that title. [sigh] Happy anniversary to me!

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Where the magic happens

Allow Me to Introduce Myself

Michael Leave a comment

You’d think after running into somebody five hundred times you’d probably know him pretty well. If you’ve read every post I’ve uploaded you would have gotten 500 pieces of my mind, and as I look back at some of them, there isn’t that much there to really let you know who I am. Before I go on, let me say that if you’ve read every post I’ve ever uploaded you might be that person out there who actually has more time on his or her hands than I do. We may have to talk about that.

Five hundred. That sounds like a lot, doesn’t it? Certainly it’s not in the same league as 19 trillion as in the U. S. National Debt, 9 billion as in Apple’s 2016 fourth quarter net income, or even 32 million as in Hillary’s net worth. Still, if somebody offered me 500 – as in dollars – I’d be considering just what unnatural act I’d be willing to consider for such a payoff. But the five hundred I’m talking about isn’t any form of currency. No, it’s more like those 500 meetings from the first paragraph. It’s the 500 posts that I’ve uploaded to the Real Reality Show Blog since its debut on November 7, 2011.

Wait a minute. I see you. You’re number crunching. Five hundred posts in a five years and two months. Plus a few days. That’s not so many. Some people post something every day. Some people post more than one something every day. I might have that kind of time but I’m not that kind of ambitious. I figured when I started this that a couple of times a week would be plenty for anybody to hear from me. After all, the intent of this was to demonstrate to the world what reality really looks like to normal people. And back then I was leading a fairly normal life.

So twice a week seemed to be plenty. Yet somehow, even posting twice a week for over five years I can honestly say that if I didn’t know who I was before I read any of these ramblings I wouldn’t know that much about me after. Yeah, I like pizza, hockey, and maple syrup. I hate fine print on TV ads, people who insist on bringing their three-suiter suitcase and then continue to insist that it will fit in the overhead compartment, and waiting in line to be seated at restaurants. But who am I? You know I’m male, I live somewhere north of the Mason Dixon line, I’m past middle age unless I get to one hundred (I’m holding out for that), and I had a happy life and enjoyed poking fun at it up to about three years ago when life poked back and hit me with a still ongoing frenzy of medical issues. But outside of that, who am I?chefman

I’m probably you. You see, although this never intended to be an anonymous blog it sort of ended up that way. At least sort of. But that was ok. I wanted it to be a reflection of what everybody is. Whether man or woman, boy or girl, young or old, or whatever you want yourself to be of any of the above.  Whether American, Canadian, British, German, Australian, Indian, Italian, Vietnamese, Brazilian, or from anywhere else readers have found their way from, this was supposed to be so you could see yourself in that post. I might have put the idea out there but they all have been pretty universal ideas. Everything from the spirit of sportsmanship in the Olympics to using time travel to eliminate crowding leftovers in your refrigerator.

Every other milestone I’ve hit I’ve spent the entire post assembling links to my favorite posts of that particular achievement. I looked back over the most recent 100 posts and found that I kind of like them all. They’ve all come at a pretty stressful but still very gratifying time of my life. They might be a little more revealing than the 400 that came before them but they still can be seen through anybody’s eyes. Maybe even yours. So instead of me telling you which are my favorites, I invite you to keep scrolling through to find and read, or hopefully to re-read, your favorites. If I did it right, each time I posted my thoughts there was enough universality in them to stimulate some of yours too.

Will I get around to writing another 500 posts? As long as someone keeps reading them I suppose I’ll keep posting them. And since I insist on reading each one each time after it’s posted I guess I’m stuck with it. If you’d like to continue along with me, feel free. It would be really nice of you. I’m glad we met.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?