The Author

The Author
Any day is a good day to write

Saturday, October 29, 2011

How can something like this be set straight?

     This mornings newspaper contained a small article on page 9A, which I thought pretty much buried it except for readers like myself who look at EVERY SINGLE article in the paper.  Whether or not I read an article is something I determine after reading the headline, or the first few lines.  This article's headline was:  Indiana crash kills seven who were on their way to a funeral.  Are we so blase that the sudden and horrific death of seven people deserves a mere mention, and then, only on page 9A?
     Two things stand out in the article, without referring to who, what and where, but as to HOW.  First, there were 10 people in a 7 passenger mini-van.  Second, none of them, including an infant were wearing a seatbelt.  The infant was in a car seat, but was not buckled in.  Apparently, this was one of those almost unavoidable crashes as a deer ran in front of the van, it braked and hit it anyway, and then was struck from behind by a semi-trailer truck.  Ten of them and no seat belts.  Did they think they were invincible?
     Just exactly when are people going to learn to put on their doggone safety belts?  (I'd use stronger language, but my grandchildren read this article.)  In my early life I was a Naval Hospital Corpsman, a medic, if you will, and the forerunner to today's paramedics.  I'm here to tell you I never, ever removed a dead body from a seat belt, but I scraped up a few that didn't have their belt on.  For all you independent minded people who are arguing it's your God Given right to ignore that seat belt, just think of that cute little child in the back seat who you are about to deprive of a parent because you have the ability to flout the law and also teach the little person in the back seat to do as you do, not as you say.  Then they will grow up (because you put them in a seat belt) to flout the law themselves.  "My old man never wore his seat belt and died at the age of 91, so I don't need to wear one either."  They can write that famous quote on your tombstone at the ripe old age of 20.  Just had an acquaintance's best friend lose a 20 year old son that way; he didn't have his belt on, his two companions did, during a rollover.  They attended his memorial service. His parents said he always wore it, his friends said he never wore it.
     Probably one of the most memorable accidents that brings this home to me was the young 4 year old boy who was injured because he wouldn't sit down in the front seat.  He "didn't want to" and it was easier to give him his way instead of forcing the issue.  When his mother slammed the 1962 Corvair to a stop, for whatever reason,  he fell forward onto the little 12 inch gear shift, which had a cute little plastic knob on top, and it entered near the right shoulder blade, next to the neck, in that little hollow we all have and didn't quite exit from his back; you could see the ivory covered knob as it protruded almost through his back stretching the skin so much you could see through it.  They had to cut it off while he was suspended on it, upside down, and bring him to the hospital that way. Unfortunately that was after it had severed his spinal cord between the 2nd and 3rd cervical vertebrae, turning him into instant quadriplegic.  He could still breathe, so that was in his favor, but I will never forget this scared little boy who didn't know his dad's last name, mom was unconscious, and there wasn't enough information in her purse to find daddy for about 4 hours. There was a Navy housing sticker on the windshield, and that's how daddy was finally located. However, in the meantime, I had to hold onto this frightened  little boy's hand and tell him to hang on.  I was the Corpsman in charge of the emergency room that day and I will always remember him struggling for breath and being so very frightened. He wasn't in pain, as he had lost all feeling, he was however, very bewildered and lost.  All because Mommy thought it was easier to let him stand up, rather than sit down, as we found out later.
     There will be those who read this article and when they get in the car the very next time will not put on their seat belt.  Those people are idiots.  I can't set that straight.  I'd say it was part of the grand plan to remove these people from society, but unfortunately, they usually breed before they are removed, so their progeny continue the same idiotic trend. Again, I'd use stronger language and tell you how I really feel but, once again, my grandchildren may be reading this. You can't force people to use their seat belts.  Remember when cars couldn't start if you didn't have your seat belt fastened?  I knew one guy who figured out how to disconnect it the day after he got his new car home.  I went to his funeral, too.  His wife, who had her seat belt on survived.  Interestingly enough, the day she got out of the hospital, she went to a party celebrating that very fact, had too much to drink, and died in a head-on collision on the way home from the party.  Too drunk to put her seat belt on, but not too drunk to drive. Talk about irony.  
     The only people who can set this straight are those who currently aren't using their seat belt, and start using one, every time. I won't start my car until everyone in the car puts theirs on.  If we have more people than belts, they don't go.  If they don't want to ride with me, fine, no problem.   And when I get in their cars, I put one on, and if they don't, I can't force 'em.  But every time, I'm afraid I will be like the two young men mentioned earlier.  I will make it to their funeral and, unfortunately, so will they.  Except they will be the guest of honor.  And I can't set that straight, either.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

They can't be serious?

     Last year, while I was in the hospital and extremely ill, my poor wife was getting exhausted from working at our flower shop, two hour round trips to the hospital, sometimes more than once a day, not getting to eat on time, or often, and still trying to maintain the house, and all those other things.  One night after getting to bed late, and extremely tired, Murphy's Law crept in.  If something can go wrong, at the worst possible time, it will.  As this law is wont to do, (look it up it's a word - and it's used correctly), it chose one of those nights for the smoke alarm to go off.  Ours do that periodically, and only once have they gone off in the daytime, all the other times have been at some ungodly hour in the middle of the night. And folks, ours has a safety feature that means if it's a battery that is causing the problem you need to fix it then, not later, because it won't go away.  If you've ever had an alarm go off in the middle of the night, you know what I'm talking about.  If you haven't, I don't recommend it, but it is one hell of an adrenaline rush. After you determine you are not going to be consumed by a fire, you have to determine which of your wonderful smoke alarms is doing this, they all go off together - it's a law - and then take care of the problem.
     My poor exhausted wife had to get out of bed, determine which alarm it was, get the ladder, climb it, remove the smoke alarm and disconnect the battery.  She figured she would take her chances of dying in a fire that night, so she left it disconnected, put the ladder away and went back to bed. Since I couldn't do anything about it, my son came over and tried to fix it.  Unfortunately it wasn't the battery and the alarm was FUBAR, so my wonderful son ordered one on the internet and said, "Here, Merry Christmas".  That was last year.  It arrived and spent it's time in the box carefully placed on our high tech clothes rack (a treadmill) where it sat until today.  I decided to install it.  It went well, (once I read the instructions).  It was easy, came with the right adaptors and took about ten minutes to install.  That's not why I write this.  It was when I was reading the instructions, I found some things that need set straight.  Actually, two things.
     First, and I quote directly from the instructions, TEST THE ALARM WEEKLY TO ENSURE PROPER INSTALLATION. OK, let's be fair.  Everyone who does that on a weekly basis, please raise your hands.  Now.  Come on, don't be shy.  I didn't think so.  How about once a month?  Now would be good.  I don't see any hands.  How about when the freakin' alarms go off for no reason?  That's what I thought.  Now I see a few hands.  The point is, who's going to grab the ladder, take it around the house into almost every room, and push that little button on a weekly or even monthly basis? We have eight of those things.  I'd be surprised if there are people who do it regularly, as in once a year.  The manufacturers are covering their collective legal butts.  "Your honor, it's written right in our instructions in big letters, to test weekly.  We are not at fault.  Never mind the fact we have them place in locations Andre the Giant couldn't reach. They take them down and never put them back up.  Can't blame us."  Oh and guess what?  66% of all smoke alarms in the United States do not work because they are faulty or the batteries are dead.  FACT.  Check it out. They can't make you fix one or test one.  It's your God given right (and your children's) to die of smoke inhalation, or burn to death,  if you're too doggone lazy to fix one, or test them.
     Second, and this one I really love, there are no smoke alarms in our house in the kitchen and in the garage. Go look........ I'll wait.........told ya! Wanna know why?  And why most homes in the country are like that?  Because those locations create nuisance alarms, especially in the kitchen.  Something burns on the stove and bingo! off goes the alarm, so they don't install them.  Even though the majority of fires in a home are caused in the kitchen.  Yep, in the kitchen, the room without a smoke alarm.  Since your home builder doesn't want you pissed at him, and calling him at three in the morning, he leaves them out of the places most people have nuisance alarms.  He gets to sleep while you die of smoke inhalation.
     "Why don't you install one of your own then?  Why are you making such a big deal about it?" you ask. Because there are federal and state laws that say all smoke alarms have to be tied together electrically and run in the same raceways as your other common household wires. They have to be tied together so the alarms ring in all parts of the house.  One goes off and they all go off.  That's why.  And most folks will probably take their chances and not go to the time and expense of adding these alarms to already built homes.  In fact, we left the one that's 18 feet high in our house disconnected because we've already spent an hour at three o'clock in the morning, on an extension ladder that could barely reach it, while we're standing ABOVE that lettering that says DO NOT STAND ABOVE THIS RUNG, trying to fix it with an 85 decibel alarm screaming in our ears, that's why!
      At least this new one has the battery cover where it's easy to reach.  And it has a "hush" button that will circumvent nuisance alarms.  It will still take a ladder, but I don't have to remove the unit from the wall and try to fix it in the dark, standing on a wobbly ladder while I'm trying to twist it off the ceiling. So, these are things that need to be set straight. Get the ladder now, while you're thinking about it.  Then test your alarms. It might save your life, or more importantly, one of your children.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Why are some commercials so bad?

     One of the nicest things about having DVRs is the ability to skip through commercials, but, unfortunately, I watch a lot of live sports on TV, especially this time of year.  The playoffs in MBL are on, there's college and NFL football, and I watch whenever I can.  By its very nature, live sports tends to stop you from recording it because few people like to watch a sporting event if you know the outcome. There are occasions that I will DVR an event, but only if it's a major game that I want to watch and that there is very little chance I will find out who won ahead of time. There have been those time that I found out the score and then guess how much fun that is to watch?  Right.  None.  Unless your team destroys someone like 73-0 and you want to watch for the sheer perverse thrill of watching your team be supremely valiant over those poor suckers who played them.
     However, I digress. Because I watch them live, I'm forced to sit through the commercials.  Now, normally I don't mind commercials, in fact, as Super Bowl Sunday has proven, commercials can be downright entertaining and fun.  For example, one of the best, and it's been on a lot lately, is the little boy in the car commercial who is running around in a Darth Vader outfit trying his best to bring inanimate objects to life with no success.  Then Dad comes home and the little boy tries to bring the car to life with his powers. With his Dad inside the house watching, Dad starts the car by remote control and the little boy is startled and turns with a look of "I did it, I did it", that is priceless.  Dad just winks at Mom and then the rest of the commercial is about the car.  I cannot tell you the name of the car for sure but I think it's Audi.
     Unfortunately, another commercial is a bearded man in a ship captain's uniform, with an obviously fake octopus on his shoulder walking into his house to an awaiting female partner, who just happens to be beautiful.  Spilling from his pockets are silver and golden coins that while they are talking fill the room he is in. They laugh insanely as they are swallowed up by the golden coins, while she gives the tag line, which is something about his smelling good.  The commercial by the way, is Old Spice.  Perhaps you think I'm making a point for those people who make these things.  I can tell you without uncertainty that the product name I remember best is the bad one, and the one I loved the most, I'm only pretty sure I'm right.  So the Madison Avenue types will stop right there and say, "See; that proves our point!" Wrong, wrong, wrong.  I will remember the Audi commercial and next time I'm looking at a car, and have the means to purchase one, I will remember the Audi commercial with good feelings.  The next time I'm looking to buy aftershave lotion I will buy any product EXCEPT Old Spice. This commercial is so bad, I'm struggling with the fact people, seemingly in their right minds, wrote, produced, directed and PAID FOR this outrageous piece of advertising crap.  So, I will do MY best to set this right.  By NEVER buying their product and passing on the word to others.  It's the least I can do.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Sidewalk soliciting

     On my way to the grocery store this morning, I noticed a young man standing on the median strip holding a sign  of which I could only make out the following words: Funeral Donations. As I progressed, I noticed several other young men holding similar signs which looked to have similar information. Intrigued, I made sure to go by one of the sign holders when I left the store. Sure enough, the signs were requesting donations for a funeral, much like the familiar homeless panhandlers we see from time to time in urban areas.
     Except these were earnest looking young men with a purpose. No beseeching, just holding their signs with a look of hopelessness on their face. The signs were asking for donations for the funeral of a 5 year old boy, named Brandon F. (I purposely left his last name off) with his picture. The picture depicted a smiling little boy, of apparent Hispanic descent, although his last name doesn't indicate that, and the sign said, "Little Brother". The sign holders, indeed, looked familial and of Hispanic descent of various ages that could be older brothers, and/or cousins.
     I never respond to these types of request, but this one seemed like it was real, and not a scam of new and disgusting proportions. Still, there are agencies for this sort of thing and I proceeded on home without offering any help, but couldn't stop thinking about it. I wondered what sort of circumstances had brought this family to this, and what had happened to the child in question. So many questions that are unanswered as I write this. I have never seen anything like this before, and I wonder, is our society finally getting to the point where it is so bad economically that families cannot afford to bury their young? Are they undocumented and they are afraid to turn to government agencies for relief?
     Wouldn't it be better to use a cheaper means of interment such as cremation? I am aware that the Hispanic culture is such that most can't bring themselves to this form of final departure, because most believe the body rises again at resurrection and will walk the earth with their family. In fact, many request to be buried in their homeland so they are among those they love and had left behind, when the final resurrection does occur.
     So, that leaves us with a young man whose family is out soliciting funds from strangers in order to give their "little brother" a proper and expensive burial. It disturbs me to think of that. I think I will drive by there tomorrow just to see if they are still there. If they are, I don't know what I'm going to do as yet, but this is haunting me. If I can help, I will try to help set it right. It's the least I can do.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Computers and those in their "Golden years"

     I have any number of friends who have parents that refuse to use a computer for various reasons. Most of them are in their "golden years", but that can mean anywhere from 50 to 90 or so.  I think some of them are intimidated (although they would NEVER admit that) by computers, while others point to their lack of computer talents with pride as if the rest of us are Luddites.  But, I think that a number of them are like my father who took up using a computer at the ripe old age of 81, back in 2001.  He was at our house for Christmas and his grandchildren were discussing it, and he suddenly said, "I'd like to try it but I don't have anyone to teach me."  My son, a gifted computer programmer said, "I can help you", and then, we were in the computer room with Grandpa at the computer learning how to use it.  In 2001, remember, they weren't quite as user friendly as they are today.  He picked it up quickly and after a few hours of instruction, was soon using it fairly well.  Then, after he returned home he called and said he had purchased a computer and wanted me or my son to help him with a few things before he "hurt" it.  I worked with him, promising to call my son, if we needed him.
     I asked him if it was set up, and he said, "Yes, the guy that sold it to me installed it for me and I am ready to go."  Even had his e-mail all set up. and was just making sure he knew what to do.  I said, "OK, turn it on and tell me when you get everything up.  He did, I matched him on my computer and started working with him on what he was seeing and what I was seeing on mine.  Then, I learned, why most people can be intimidated by computers.  Things that come easy to most of us, especially the younger set, are confusing to the older generation.  For example, I told him to left click his mouse and then asked him what happened.  He did, and I did the same, following his every move. I instructed him how to place the cursor (I told him it was that little arrow thingy that moved around when he moved his mouse - he understood that), and then to left click.  He did and said what happened.  I said, "OK, put the cursor on the icon (I explained what an icon was) and he followed that, and he understood highlighting.  Then I said "Highlight the words you want, and then right click and what do you see."  Expecting him to tell me about the drop down table that appeared with choices such as: cut, copy paste and so on."  He explained that nothing happened.  I said, "surely something happens?" and he continued to say "NO."  Loudly, I might add. We tried it several times.  Finally I said, "I don't think you are right clicking and left clicking correctly." Then, said my wonderful 81 year old father, "I understand what you are telling me, GODDAMMIT!  What I don't understand is what difference it makes which hand I use." I called my son and asked him to call his Grandfather.  It was easier.