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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.

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

Timely yet Priceless

Michael 2 Comments

Have you changed your clock back yet? If you’re somewhere where that happens, of course. If you’re not, then you shouldn’t have, so don’t now. I’m of two minds when it comes to these twice yearly time changes. Now the two minds aren’t I like it but I don’t like it. It’s the rule so I’m going to do it and not let my personal feelings intrude on my appropriate completion of this task. Like coming to a complete stop before making a right turn on red, particularly in the face of oncoming traffic. I might not like it but it’s what we’re supposed to do and not liking it out loud isn’t going to change that.

I don’t understand why Arizona doesn’t follow Daylight Savings Time. Hawaii, Guam, Puerto Rico, Samoa, and the US Virgin Islands don’t either but they’re isolated from the rest of the country so if they want to follow what their closest neighbors do, that makes sense. Arizona doesn’t. Oh sure, Arizonans didn’t have to wonder should I change my clock before I go to bed on Saturday or after I wake up on Sunday, but is that a fair exchange for being out of sync with their border state neighbors all summer long and tuning in for the 6:00 news an hour early for six months?

SlowClock

Anyway, my two minds are when to actually make the change. Nobody in their right mind is going to wake up at 2:00 am just to reset various timepieces. I certainly wouldn’t and I’m not necessarily that right in my mind. Besides, I not only wouldn’t but I couldn’t. I have other things to do when I change my clocks and I need to be alert which I certainly am not in the middle of the night. So that leaves the day before or the day after.

Typically I change my clocks before I go to bed. But not right before. If I waited till then I’d forget. So I change them when I think about it or hear or read a reminder. Usually that’s around 5 in the afternoon. That’s what time I changed them 2 days ago. Then for the next 6 hours I wondered every time I looked at a clock what time it really was. Since the computers and phones magically change themselves in the middle of the night I didn’t touch them. That meant that none of the clocks in the room matched the times on my cell phone and tablet which are my ever present recliner companions. And worse than that, the TV listings didn’t match the clock next to the TV. I’ve been changing my own clocks for over 40 years and I go through this dilemma twice a year every year. Next year I think I might wait until I wake up on Sunday to change them and see what happens.

By the way, tomorrow is a noteworthy if not outright special day for The Real Reality Show Blog. On November 7, 2011, I posted the first of now close to 600 posts. Except for a few months when I was in the intensive care unit at the local get well center, I got a post out every Monday and Thursday for six whole years – with an occasional off schedule day tossed in to keep you on your toes. And during all that, this amazing feat has been brought to you for nothing more than your energy to connect and your desire to read.

I want to thank you for your support and continued readership. It is only with that support that this blog is and always will be free. And worth every penny.

 

Getting from There to Here

Michael 10 Comments

Last week I noticed I now have over 300 followers, assuming everyone who ever followed still is. A huge assumption that and all that goes with it. Three hundred might not seem like a lot to those who have followers reaching towards four digits. Or it might seem like a lot to those who published their first post sometime this weekend. I know that I’m happy that 300 people think enough of the stuff I push to the Internet to want to know when something new gets pushed there and to me that seems like an accomplishment all in itself.

I got to wondering how the first person who decided to follow my blog even found it. I’ve never published it on any social platform. It’s not linked to a Facebook or Twitter or any other account. I can count on one hand and have at least two fingers left over the number of people I’ve told that twice a week they could read questionably creative ramblings of mine if they so cared. So…how did you come about to be reading this? Inquiring minds and all that, you know.

I follow about a dozen blogs and about another dozen I have loaded onto my browser’s favorites list. I guess that’s not a really great quid pro quo ratio. I’d follow all three hundred of those who follow me but some of the notices I’ve received of a follower don’t include a blog for me to seek to see if I would like a steady dose of their offerings. And in fairness (real or imagined) of all those that I do follow, not all follow me in return. I’m fine with that. I can see myself more interested in someone’s writing and want to follow him or her more closely that that someone might be interested in mine and would prefer to only occasionally peek into my brain, psyche, or whatever corporal component is putting fingers to keyboard that week. You can’t like everything you find crossing your path in life.

Still I wonder why some do, some don’t, and would some others if they even knew that it is available. What makes us like one thing, not like another, and not care enough about some to form an opinion?

Now that I think about it, I should probably stop before I lose the few of you that are still out there. I don’t know if Word Press counts to negative numbers.

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

 

Lizing Leapards

Michael Leave a comment

It’s nice to know that there are some things you can absolutely count on. At least you can count on them once every 4 years or so.

Every 4 years we’ll show off a national spectacle, some would say a national embarrassment, and try to elect a President. We know that’s really not real. Whoever is to be the next President has already been decided. Eventually the marketing department will let us in on it too.

Every 4 years we show off a worldwide spectacle, some would say a spectacular spectacle. That would be the Olympics, or as those marketers would prefer, the Games of the XXXI Olympiad. (And you thought Roman numerals only use was in counting Super Bowls. Ha!) Of course that is presuming Brazil gets a handle on the Zika virus.

Every 4 years we also show off the Winter Olympics. But not this year. Used to be that we held summer and winter games in the same year but then somebody (probably one of those marketing groups) decided it would be better for the world to split them up. We still hold the Winter Olympics (officially the Olympic Winter Games) every four years but not for another two of them.

Every 4 years FIFA holds the World Cup Finals round. This isn’t that year. There are preliminary games scheduled last year, this year, and next year. The next finals round will be in 2018.

Every 4 years I start a new blog. Actually I started this blog 4 years and 4 months ago. So if I was to start a new blog it would be a quadrennial-triannual event. That’s too confusing. And even though there have been drastic changes in my life over the last 4 years and 4 months I think this blog still serves its purpose. (If you, like me, are unsure of that purpose check out Blog Post #1 Really? Real Reality? November 7, 2011.)

You might say that it suits me. I’ll keep this one.

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

Let Me Sleep on That

Michael Leave a comment

I had a great idea for a blog post. Unfortunately, I had it while I was asleep. Maybe “great idea” isn’t quite the right way to put that. Everything I post is real, hence the title “The Real Reality Show Blog.” This is really real. But not everything is blogworthy. (By the way, did you know that “blogworthy” passes the spell-check test? That could be blogworthy in itself.) And not everything that is blogworthy lends itself to a blog. But enough times, something happens that makes a great post. And then something happens to actually make me able to write about it.

Sometimes that something is a bit of work. I mull it over, run it through my brain, try out a phrase or two, and somehow remember it when I sit down in front of the computer where it can fall out of my head through my fingers onto the screen. One of those times was sometime last week. It was a great idea and it just about wrote itself completely in my head. Had I had a computer in front of me I could have walked away with a completed post in just a few minutes. But what I had in front of me was a pair of closed eyelids. And behind them was what turned out to be a faulty memory.

I have absolutely no idea what I was thinking or dreaming or meditating or whatever it is one does on the edge of sleep. All I remember is that I woke up thinking “that would be a great blog!” I just had no idea what “that” was.

Some people can remember every little thing they dream. They’re probably the same persons who know everything that is in their refrigerators. They can relate them at lunch to everybody at the office in excruciating detail.  (That would be their dreams, not their refrigerator contents but probably those, too.) On particularly good days they even come with critiques of the main characters in their mental movies. I can do that only if I have a particularly spicy enchilada with multiple beers after 9pm. Then I either wake up remembering my dreams or remembering an actual altercation in the parking lot between my untied shoe and a telephone pole. Neither makes for a great idea for a blog post although the shoe lace bear some promise.

So whatever it was it isn’t going to be. And instead of a great blog post, you get this. Sorry.

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

And to Aunt Shirley I Leave My Blog

Michael Leave a comment

The Uniform Law Commission made a monumental decision this week.  It released information to the general public letting everyone know it exists and what it does.  No, we’re just kidding!  That’s not it.  We still have no idea who belongs to this group and what they actually do.  But very recently we read that the Uniform Law Commission (ULC to its closest friends) has published legal guidelines for what to do with all of your electronic accounts once you are no longer you.  All that has to happen now for this to become law and close a gap that has been widening like a pothole on the information highway is for every state legislature to adopt it as law.

Apparently people have actually sued on-line providers for access to accounts held by deceased relatives.  On-line files at e-mail, file storage, and social media sites are being compared to records kept in vaults, safes, and shoeboxes from another era.  Banking, insurance, and ownership records are just some of the items kept in today’s on-line shoeboxes.  These are things that would be of much interest to the executor of an estate and importance to the estate.

The way the proposed law addresses the release of information is that a designated person, presumably the executor, would be able to access the files but not act on the files.  He or she could read the posts on a social media site but could not post to the site, could read the files at a cloud storage site but could not copy the files from that site, could read e-mails but not send e-mails from that account.  Does that help?  We’re not sure.  It seems that still leaves a lot of room for someone to commit identity theft.  That room might be made smaller if the law gave the designee the power of action.  We may not want someone to read every e-mail we’ve ever saved over years (nor may they want to) but we certainly want someone to purge our banking information before the bad guys get to it and clean out our accounts.

In the spirit of excess, people are already reading more than the practical applications into the proposed rules.  In reporting on the ULC’s actions, the Associated Press said “Imagine the trove of digital files…and what those files might fetch on an auction block.”  Now the AP was specifically referring to Bill Clinton and Bob Dylan and their electronic writings which would fetch an attractive sum at auction.  They might fetch even more than The Real Reality Show Blog posts will.  (Don’t you just love the use of “fetch” regarding high prices returned of sold items?  Come on fella, go fetch those millions of dollars!  But we digress.)

Do we need a law to make this happen?  Not really.  Just like you can put into your will who gets access to your safe deposit box, you can put into your will who gets access to your electronic storage areas.  It might sound funny today but in a few years it could be routine to read at the opening of a will, “And I release all my Instagram pictures to my friend John Doe,” or more likely, “And I allow full access to and disposition of accounts held at the First National Bank on-line banking service by the Executor by way of the user name and password found in the addendum to this will.”

Of course, Aunt Shirley will get control of all the posts to this blog and whatever they fetch at auction or the garage sale, whichever is greater.

Now that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you.