Then I Became One of Them

   You’ve probably seen it happen. Several older people get together and the first thing you know they’re talking about their aches and pains. Comparing what their doctors are telling them. Discussing what pharmaceuticals they’re taking, and the grisly details of their latest surgeries, etc., etc. It’s like they don’t have anything else going on in their lives to talk about. 
    When I was younger and witnessed this happening I thought, My goodness, are their lives really that boring, or lacking in anything interesting? 
    Then I became one of them (I know, it surprised me too)- - - not that I spend much time discussing my physical condition with anyone, but my level of empathy with those that do, has risen considerably. 
   As I get older, I’ve come to the realization that the human body gradually wears out. Muscles weaken, cartilage gets thin or in some cases becomes nonexistent. Arthritis shows up in the most unwelcome places, and bursitis tends to develop in joints and muscles. This leads to the loss of comfort. Keep in mind that the above is from a non-medical person. The only thing I know is that the body gets crotchety. That diagnosis may not be in any of your medical journals. 
    The things I’ve listed above are just the uncomfortable things that happen to the body. I’m not even talking about the really serious life threatening or terminal things that happen to our bodies as they age. 
    Now, back to why older people talk about their aches and pains, and most other personal medical things. I believe that people like to talk about what they know, and believe me older people know about their bodies and what’s happening. The discomfort/pain has a way of focusing the attention. Also, I believe that knowing that we’re not alone in having a body that is betraying us is some comfort in itself. 
    So, young people, (anyone under 65) be patient with us. It may sound like all we know is what’s happening to our bodies, but we’ve been there, and returned, and obviously survived. So, if you need advice on how to do the same, just ask. You would be surprised on how much perspective our extra years of living life’s experiences have given us.

Where Did All the Mold Go? 

    It dawned on me the other day that I’ve not heard anything about our old friend mold for some time. Years in fact. 
    A few years ago, maybe 20 by this time, mold was all over the place and scaring the bejebbers out all of us. We had all kinds of mold. Some benign and some highly toxic. It got so bad that if some school kid wanted a couple weeks’ vacation, all he had to do was go to the principal with some black gunk stuck under his fingernails that he had scooped off his plate in the cafeteria, and claim that it came from some other place in the school. Of course, he would have had to smear some of this gunk around that spot as well. 
   The school would be shut down in a heartbeat and kept that way until the mold people had been there and done a through inspection of the place. Like I said, between the scientists, media, and people who suddenly found out that they could make a good living searching out and destroying mold, it kept the rest of us on edge all the blessed time, wondering when we would ourselves succumb to some kind of mold. 
    Mold came in a rainbow of colors, the very worst being black mold. (I always wondered if there wasn’t something racial in that designation.) If black mold was found in a building, you might as well, in most cases, kiss it goodbye. The building that is. No one was dumb enough to kiss black mold. 
    When the mold people showed up it didn’t make you feel any better. They were clomping around in their hazmat suits like robots while sounding like Death Varder. Just having them on the premises made you want to leave, whatever the mold situation turned out to be. If these guys found mold, then they were hired to get rid of the mold, if that was possible. 
    Now it always seemed to me that there was a slight convergence of interest since the people who said that you needed them were the same people you needed. They were telling you how bad the situation was and at the same time what it was going to cost to remedy the situation. It was a win-win situation for the mold people. Nice work if you can find it. And building owners stood still for this. But that’s just how desperate and scared we were.
    If anyone in an office building developed a cough, the first thing that came to mind was mold. The fact that this person had spent the last weekend with three sick, coughing, runny-nosed nephews and nieces crawling all over him, was not considered pertinent. The building would be vacated until the mold people could make a ruling. 
    How many good buildings and businesses were unnecessarily laid waste because of mold, we’ll never know. But as I said at the beginning, I don’t hear about mold anymore. Did it go away, or did we reevaluate its toxicity? If someone knows please enlighten me. Thank you.

Honey, Anyone? Or Please Pass the Bee Vomit. 

   For many years honey was the one food that was not only good to eat, but was one that we could depend on to be good for us, as opposed to nearly every other edible thing on the planet. 
    We’ve learned not to depend on most other foods. Fats have been fickle. Proteins have been perfidious. Sugars are shaky. Grains have had a sometimes gratuitous reputation. Carbs have been less than constant. Legumes have been consistently okay, except they operate on the basis where diminishing taste means higher food value. (I think it must be some kind of evolutionary self-preservation thing.) And then we have vegetables---but who cares anyway. 
    Now within each of these groups there are individual foods that have opted to go their own way. Either on the good side or the dark side. But foods can change their minds. Some, after being on the dark side for years, have suddenly been rehabilitated and are now on the good side. For how long is always the question. And just the opposite happens on a regular basis. It takes a person with a large computer and plenty of time to keep track of all this. 
    The problem with that? The stress of keeping track of what is good for you to eat today will in itself shorten your life.  
   Now we have honey. Through the years it has remained constantly consistent. Good for external and internal use. Everything from being chuck full of antioxidants, good for improving cholesterol, being better for diabetics than sugar, and good for lowering triglycerides. Plus, it promotes burn and wound healing. Quite a super food. 
    Then I ran into this study that explained that all of the above just wasn’t so. That honey was nothing more than a jumped- up sugar that had been taking advantage of us for years. I read to the end of the article and they explained that this research used 55 people, over a period of six weeks. I was a little put out at their having wasted my time, but have been around long enough to believe that this is similar to much of the operating parameters used in many food studies. 
    Another thing about these studies that prove one point or another: you need to make sure you know who is funding the research. Not just who is doing the research, but who is funding it. For instance, a study by the University of Nebraska showing that people who ate beef three times a day live longer than people who don’t eat at all, is interesting information. But before you start with eating all that beef, look at the fine print and you’ll probably find that maybe the study was funded by the Nebraska Beef Council. And if they did not actually pay directly for the study, you will probably find that the Beef Council just built the university a new sports center. 
    To say that many of the scientific? Studies now being done are biased is, I think, probably an understatement. 
    So where does that leave me and my body and what I eat? Eat some of everything you can stand, enjoy it, and don’t worry.

Pure Logic 

   It’s not often that you hear of people using pure logic to solve life’s little problems. For instance, a man in Mississippi intentionally crashed his truck into the local courthouse. The reason? He wanted to let officials know that his drug paraphernalia had been stolen. The report didn’t say if he was under the influence of anything other than good old Mississippi swamp water or not. One can only surmise. 
   But it was evidently the logical thing to do as he got the attention of the officials in a very quick but somewhat negative way. They did know he was there and what his problem was. Well, beside the damage to the courthouse. 

   On another note, I have just published another book. The title of this one is “My Uncle Vellanoff’s Journal, Escapades and Adventures of a Traveling Thespian.”  
   The back cover in part says this: Vellanoff, my possibly imaginary uncle, joins up with a traveling group of thespians after he emigrates from Russia to the United States. It seems he spent some time in the Russian military, until he had a misunderstanding with the Russian Secret Police and had to leave the country---quickly. 
   As the troupe travels around the country, Vellanoff becomes involved in a number of hair-raising experiences which he records in his journal, along with other interesting material he feels is worth remembering. His everyday activities are more than interesting but the adrenaline raps up big time when he gets involved with mobsters; train robbers; and mean, hill-country bootleggers, just to name a few. 
   Keeping up with Uncle Vellanoff, his penchant for adventure, and his keen sense of humor might be something you’d like to read.      This book is available at Amazon and most other online book sellers. Just use the name of the book, or type in Eldon Spady. Either one will get you there. If you like it put a review on Amazon. Thanks.   Or just use this link.   https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=eldon+spady&rh=i%3Aaps%2Ck%3Aeldon+spady

Grocery Shopping and other Tribulations

    Recently, during a grocery shopping adventure in a Fred Meyer store I observed a harried looking woman adjusting the things in her shopping cart. She was taking some items and piling them in the front of cart and moving other items toward the back. I thought I knew what she was doing so commented, “It’s hard to keep it all straight isn’t it?” 
    Her head snapped up and she growled, “You can say that again. I need an %$*&@# assistant just to keep track of everything I need to know to buy a few groceries.”
    What was she talking about? This week at Freddys' the buying public, henceforth noted as ‘we’, have several money saving? options. We have an assortment of items on which we can save $.50 per item if we buy ten of them. We have another category where if we buy 5 we can save @1.00 per item. Then we have some items that are just on sale, as old-fashioned as that concept may be anymore. 
    In addition to this we have what they call, “Digital Coupons.” These are coupons you can digitally clip on line when looking through the money-saving offers flogged on Freddys’ website. 
    Mixed into all this and confusing the issue still more is that every other thing in the store is carrying a shelf tag announcing “New Lower Price” which is eye catching, but otherwise mostly meaningless. The big question for this category of course is, lower than what? 
   Back to the ‘buy 10 and save $.50 per item’ marketing ploy. We find these items all over the store. So, as we navigate the aisles we are throwing into our carts some of these items along with non-sale items, items on which we can save $1.00 if we buy five, and just items we need but that are selling for regular prices. Now the tricky part is that if we end up with less than 10 of the one category, we don’t get the $.50 off on any of them. And if we pick up more than 10 of these items, we don’t get the $.50 off on the additional ones unless our count reaches 20. So, keeping track of how many of these particular items we have in our cart is paramount. The same program applies to the $1.00 off if we buy 5 sale. 
    And then there is always the calculation of, if I do save $.50 on this item, is it a good buy? Many times, even with the discount it leaves us paying more than this item’s regular price. Invariably, we decide that some of these $.50 off items are not a good buy so we pass, which fouls up our count, hence the need to keep them separated in the cart so we (at least me) can more easily keep track of them. 
   Now, as we get ready to check out, we find that we do not have 10 of these items, but 8 or maybe 15. So another dilemma. Do we scrounge around the store until we find more $.50 off items to bring our count up to 10, or do we discard some items to bring out count down to 10, or do we again scrounge around the store to take our count from 15 up to 20 items. In either case how much money do we spend on items we don’t need, at least right now, to save $.50 per item. 
    Now the digital coupons are another stress inducing subject. We’re assuming that between our computers and the Fred Meyer computer there has actually been some conversation. We can’t know this for sure until we check out and maybe not even then.
    Our shopping experience up to this point has been such that by the time we get to ‘check-out’ we are so glad just to see daylight, meaning the door to the parking lot, that we are prone to not pay much attention to what the computer totaling our purchases is doing. The thing will list all items at their regular prices, which, if we are paying attention, nearly gives us heart palpitations, but then at the end it lists all the discounts. Unless a person wants to take the time to actually go through the list and compare each discount to some item on which we should have gotten a discount, we are left with hoping that the store is honest, that their computer knows who we are, and will give us all the discounts we have been promised. 
    Personally, I think that these systems all work most of the time and come out as they should, but then again, who knows? 
    That’s why, when I’m grocery shopping, I should have someone along with a grocery ad, my list of digital coupons, and a computer to keep track of all this for me. It would be nice if they had some knowledge of first aid, because I move around the store fairly fast and sometimes people just don’t get out of my way in time.

What Did the Fish Say to the Fisherman? 

    It was either Abe Lincoln or Mark Twain who said something to the effect that, “It’s better to keep your mouth shut and appear stupid than open it and remove all doubt.” 
    If there was ever a time when people should heed this advice it’s now. We have so many people who feel they need to say something about everything that it’s like being buried in confetti. Our social media makes this not only easy to do but makes it possible to reach a huge audience. 
    Many of these self-styled ‘watchdogs of everything’ use social media to keep us informed and of course keep themselves in the public eye. Politicians and celebrities come to mind. Evidently, they think that anything they say or do is of great interest to many people. And that any mention of their name, whether positive or negative is better then not having their name mentioned at all. They feel that many people are holding their breath waiting for their opinions, feelings, and day-to- day activities. Sad to say, this is probably true. 
    There are also many people in these two above mentioned categories who are evidently secure enough that they don’t feel the need to deprivatize their lives, just for the publicity. 
    And then we have the leaders of our country who tweet or use other social media to tell us how they feel about every issue. I mean every issue. An example: This morning he or she is in favor of some issue. By noon they have changed their mind and are against the issue. By evening they have seen the light and are now once again in favor of said issue. And the amazing thing is that they feel compelled to tell millions of followers about this vacillation. There’s nothing wrong with changing his or her mind, but why tell everyone? It doesn’t make them appear to be strong leaders. 
    Of course, a large amount of this vacillation is magnified by the news media which tries their best to make these leaders, especially if their politics don’t agree with the news writer, look like idiots. 
    Now most of this would not have been possible if the leader had just kept his or her mouth shut in the first place. 
    It appears that at least half of the tweet readers don’t agree with what’s been said; so they feel compelled to answer, very seldom with reasoned arguments, but with vindictiveness, or whatever they think it takes to make the tweeter look ridiculous. It reminds me of little kids on a playground.
    “You did.” 
    “I did not.” 
    “You did?" 
    “I did not.” 

    Oh, the fish? He said, “It probably would’ve been better if I’d kept my mouth shut.”

     

The Confessions of a Non-Geek

     Well, I’ve reached a new low. Several weeks ago we bought a new Samsung 49” TV. It’s great. I had the Geek Squad come out and install the thing, and haul the old TV away. Mostly haul the old TV away. It was a heavy beast. 
     We recently decided to add a sound bar and woofer to the new TV. It looked like a pretty straight forward hook up. Two wires to the TV and the woofer just plugs into the wall and Bluetooth does the rest. So, I got it all hooked up. Shortly thereafter we (I) lost the TV remote. It’s a small, sleek, black thing, with only about four buttons along with volume and channel toggles. 
    Now the new TV had been synced to our Direct TV remote, so we didn’t have much use for the Samsung remote, but I still wanted to find it so I looked over, under, in, and around everything in the living room. No remote. 
    Then the TV and sound bar started acting funny. Just one of their tricks was to all of a sudden, without any help from me or the TV remote, ratchet up the sound from where ever we had it set to 100. Way too loud for anything. And the mute would come and go at odd intervals, again without the assistance of me and my Direct TV remote. Then it started getting creepy. I normally sit in my chair with the TV remote on the arm of said chair, my laptop in my lap, and supporting pads, pens, and a book to read on the floor next to the right side of the chair. The TV started to react to my getting up, or even making any sizable move. If I got up the sound would increase. If I stood up the mute might come on, only to go off again as I walked away from the chair. 
     We had a window that kept popping up, covering most of the screen, making available to us some adjustments. My remote had no effect on this window. Along with this window would come a loud one second explanation in Portuguese. We found that we just had to be patient and wait for this window to disappear on its own. This rogue window also seemed to be actuated most of the time by my moving around in my chair. 
     So, the Geek Squad person came. As I was explaining the mysterious happenings, he said, “I’ve been doing this for fifteen years and this has never happened before, but I’m guessing that your remote is in your chair.”       As soon as he said that I knew he was right, but being his first in fifteen years dumb enough to lose a remote in a chair then sit on it and wonder what was going on, did nothing to bolster by self-esteem. 
     So, we turned the chair on its back and looked and poked around. Then we put it back up on its feet and both of us felt in all the possible crevasses available to us. Then we turned the chair on its back again, and went through the whole underside once again. Now the underside of the chair is all black as is the remote. Finally, our Geek found the thing, almost as good as new, but certainly good enough to send out signals consistent with my sitting on it, or changing position, or working the foot rest. So, after hooking up the sound bar and woofer again, he left. Everything seemed to be working great. We’ll see. My experience has been that machines are more apt to misbehave when they think the only person around is someone who can lose a remote in his chair.

Is This Science or Just Wishful Guessing?

   
    You’ll be excited to know that scientists have found three teeth, a pinky finger bone, and a bone fragment from either a leg or an arm in a cave in Siberia. 
    From this evidence they have deduced that this was a 13-year old girl, whose mother was a Neanderthal and whose father was a Denisovan. They have also deduced that the mother and father mated willingly, and created a thriving interspecies family, proving that there was peaceful coexistence between these two species. 
    These scientists were excited because this has been the first evidence of these two species coexisting. 
    Wow! And all from two bone fragments and a couple teeth. 
    My question is, in what other disciplines can participants get by with such leaps of conjecture and not be ridiculed into the outer reaches of society?

Would It Be That Hard to Fix? 

Second Installment 

    On our first installment we discussed the last-century communication systems used by fast-food restaurants for the use of the drive-up customers. The equipment is a trial to both customers and employees. However, I don’t want you to think the fast-food restaurants are the only ones using ancient equipment for their communications applications. 
    One other industry that I’m guessing is using Polish, World War Two reject communication equipment, is the airlines. Before I retired I spent a lot of time on planes flying hither and yon. One of the things that constantly amazed me was---well, let me explain like this. I would be sitting in my seat, working on my next appointment, reading a book, or trying to catch up on my sleep. When all of sudden the Captain or a flight attendant would pick up a mike and try to talk to us passengers. 
    It was obvious that a message was being communicated. Now either of two things would happen. If I was sitting under a speaker the volume was loud enough to distort the words so that the message, which could have been something like this, “Ladies and Gentlemen, we are about to experience some severe turbulence, so please take your seats and make sure your seat belts are securely fastened. We are in no danger as long as the…” somebody in the background hisses at the speaker, “Don’t say that, how long’ve you been doing this?” 
    The sound quality resembles a person speaking around a mouth full of dirty socks. Like I said the volume is so great from the speaker over my seat that it further distorts the message so much that I have no idea what’s being said. The nearby passengers, who are not unlucky enough to be sitting directly under a speaker, can’t hear enough of the distorted message to understand what’s about to happen to us. Passengers would look at each other, shrug their shoulders and then react in their own individual way---copious perspiration, prayer, or a little moaning, revving up the vocal cords so they were ready to render some good screaming. Just to name a few. 
    Those passengers with little or no experience with flying wonder why the flight attendants are scurrying around putting the food service carts away, and buckling themselves into their seats. Those of us who have seen this before aren’t surprised when the plane suddenly starts lurching around the sky like a drunk bucking bronco. 
    The interesting thing is that the flight attendants and the pilots know that no one can understand what’s being said. They’re just employees and probably feel that if the airline owners want to save money with ancient communications gear that didn’t even work back then, (why do you think the Poles were surprised when the German Army showed up on their borders), why should they care.
    Early in my flying experience I used to wonder as I flew the friendly skies, when is something going to happen where my understanding their garbled message is going to make a difference between life and death. My life or death. 
    And why shouldn’t I worry. I was strapped to a seat in a tin tube at thirty-five thousand feet, flying through an oxygen-less atmosphere, my life depended on one hundred and thirty- seven thousand individual parts, any one of which if it stopped functioning, could plunge this ride of my mine out of the sky. 
    I found these thoughts somewhat worrisome for a while. I finally came to the realization that no matter what happened there was nothing I could do about it whether I could understand their garbled warnings or not. So, I quite worrying, and didn’t struggle to understand what the pilots and flight crew were trying to tell me. 
    But again, would that poor communications equipment problem be so hard to correct?

Would It Be That Hard to Fix? 

First Installment 

    Driving home from the wedding of our great nephew, Luke, and new great niece, Alivia, we had our radars tuned for handy Dairy Queens. We found one in Goldendale, Washington, and as we’d been driving all day we thought we deserved some health food. So, pulling in we drove up to the menu board and requisite communication system. 
   I ordered our usual, two medium cones, only this time we got really wild and made them swirl cones. [As my imaginary third cousin from Louisiana, Mary Lou Block, would say upon hearing my allusion to health food and while rolling her eyes, “Lord, help me over the fence!”] 
    I had to repeat my order three times because their communication system was the same as all other fast food ordering systems.  
    Let me insert a little rant here. We, that is the human race, can communicate with people in space, on the moon, or miles under the surface of the ocean, and make ourselves understood. It doesn’t seem to be a problem. I continually talk to people from India. I can hear them distinctly. I can’t understand their accent, nor do I want to give them control of my computer so they can fix some dire problem, but we do communicate. 
    Now at these fast food places, I cannot see the person I’m talking with, but I’m in close proximity. A stretched string and two tin cans would work pretty well. But no, they are using what sounds like pre-World War I equipment that has been through several bombings. 
    I repeated myself several times as did the order taker, and we both strained to understand what the other was trying to say. Most of the time, through the squeaks, squawks, hisses and clicks, it works, to a point. Not easily, but I guess they think the effort will make us hungrier. 
    Today, like I mentioned, I ordered two cones. I finally understood that I would have to pay, what sounded like $2.68 at the window. I was amazed, for this is a really good price for two medium cones at a Dairy Queen. 
    When I got to the window I handed the girl three dollars, and she handed me one cone and change. Then she started to close the window. She realized that I was watching her expectantly so she hesitantly opened the window and took a step back from her narrow counter but listened as I explained that I had ordered two cones. 
    She apologized, and went and got another cone. I got another three dollars ready to exchange for said cone. She came back, handed me my cone, but refused to take the three dollars, and apologized again for the mistake. 
    What went through my head as we drove away was, how many $2.68 mistakes do they make and how long would it take to pay off the investment to put in some half-way modern communication equipment. Just a thought. The cones were delicious and as it turned out the price was exceptional.

The News and What to Do With It 

    I glanced at a picture connected with a news report. It showed two young boys, I’m guessing at the gender, who were covered with mud, from the hair on their heads to their feet. In the background were a few other people, also covered with mud. 
    My first reaction was that these two children belonged to some remote tribe in maybe New Guinea or Africa. And not knowing more about it than that my second thought was, ‘Well that’s interesting.’ 
    The next instant my eye caught a reference to their being from Detroit, and my next thought was again, “How sad.” 
    I get put out with people who base their whole response to life around them, such as politics, for example, by just reading the headlines, and here I was doing the same thing. 


     In Ottawa, Ontario, that’s in Canada, they have an annual ten-day music event called Bluesfest. This year, as they were constructing a stage for the performers, they discovered a Killdeer’s nest with four eggs in it. This brought the whole operation to a halt. They are now waiting for Environment Canada to decide to either move the nest or to incubate the eggs. 
    I couldn’t believe what I was reading and what they were considering. Incubate the eggs? Really? That meant that they were separating the children from the parents, just because the parents had made a poor decision. Now if someone I could mention, but won’t, had suggested separating these kids from their parents, the Internet and all the other media out there would have lit up like the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree, and be having a field day castigating the perpetrator of such an idea. 
    Right now the Canadians have a guard protecting the nest. 
    Also, it seems that in Canada the Killdeer is a protected species. If Canada needs more of these birds there are many areas in the USA that would probably be glad to ship them some Killdeers. Just a thought.

Scare the Money Right Out of Them 

    Inducing fear of being unhealthy or creating hope for an easy cure, is a huge industry. I’m not talking about valid medical establishments who freely make their findings available to the public or give advice based on their experience, research, or observations. In this category I would personally put the Mayo Clinic and many other fine establishments. 
    The ones I’m talking about come in two forms---those that scare people into action because they are afraid of becoming unhealthy and those who create the hope of a quick cure for whatever ails them. In either case it turns out to be quite expensive. 
   Many years ago, these people would have been traveling from town to town in a horse-drawn wagon, selling some kind of elixir that would cure anything, and if you had nothing it would prevent you from succumbing to anything. And while you waited to see if it was working, it gave you a nice little buzz so that you didn’t care anyway. And even then, it was quite expensive. 
    Both of these approaches to relieving people of their hard-earned money seem to follow the same basic script. They take bits and pieces of real or imagined medical information and by playing on people’s fears or hopes entice them into buying their pills, potions, magazine, or books, to solve or prevent the onslaught of medical problems.        Their common claim to fame is that because whatever they are selling is so revolutionary the big pharmaceutical houses or the American Medical Association or the US government are trying to shut them down, and unless you act quickly they won’t be around much longer to sell you whatever they’re selling. The reason these entities are trying to muzzle these people is that it will put big pharma out of business, make the AMA embarrassed because they didn’t come up with this miracle cure themselves, or embarrass the government because---well we’re not quite sure. But the short version is that you had better spring quickly for whatever these guys are selling because tomorrow their product will probably not be available. 
    Just one example. Some doctor takes a second grade multi vitamin and adds a minuscule amount of frankincense to it then claims that this remedy comes straight from the Bible. And that it will cure anything that is wrong with you, from baldness to sexual dysfunction. 
    And then there are the thirty-minute infomercials where the speaker keeps telling you that he is about to tell you the secret to his longevity or whatever, but first he would be amiss if he didn’t share four or five testimonials from people you never heard of and who’s opinion means zilch to you. 
    He keeps looking over his shoulder, claiming that the AMA is hot on his heels, and are about to shut him down because they don’t want his healing expertise in the public domain as it will cut into the vast profits they derive from treating whatever he/she is claiming to be able to cure.            Numerous times he just about spills the deep secret, but never quite gets there, until finally he tells you that all you need to do is subscribe to his newsletter, buy his book, order a three-months supply of his pills, or a case of his special lotion, to gain the healthy state you’re entitled to.        These infomercials are the slickest marketing cons going on today, but it is just one small piece of the industry that has grown up and seems to be doing well, playing on peoples’, fear of being unhealthy, or hope to stay healthy. 
    Not one of these forms of marketing, either fear or hope, offer anything to relieve the mental anguish caused by their products not working.

When Did We Become So Delicate? 

    I know that medical knowledge is progressive and changes every day. We don’t bleed people anymore, doctors now wash their hands between operations, and medical people don’t give their patients drugs like laudanum. We may be using things just as detrimental to our health and just haven’t figured it out yet. 
   Along with these innovations comes a plethora of information about things that may be harmful to us. Like gluten, aluminum foil, plastic bottles, just to name a few. Most of these things are products we have been eating or using for years, and now all of a sudden are told they are best avoided. What happened to us? It seems that we are suddenly a lot more delicate than in the past. 
    My parents and certainly their parents would be astounded at all the suggested things to avoid. If Mom’s kitchen had been deprived of butter, whole unpasteurized milk, (the folks owned a dairy), cream, sugar, and just plain iodized salt, (not even gathered in some foreign country or body of water), Crisco shortening (fat), and then the pièce de résistance --- non-fluoridated, non-treated water that came out of an irrigation ditch, she wouldn’t have been able to feed us all those delicious meals. And the amazing part was the lack of sickness in the family.     And as for anything “low fat”, “reduced calorie”, or “organic”, they hadn’t even been invented yet because the health paranoia hadn’t set in yet. 
    If we ate that kind of stuff today we’d be sick all the time and demanding the attention of health practitioners of all disciplines. Like I asked at the beginning, “When did we become so delicate?”

Passing Lane -itis 

   Recently Lorraine and I drove from Redmond, Oregon, to Tacoma, Washington. From Redmond over the pass and until you are nearly down to Sandy, Oregon, the road is two lanes. One coming and one going. Lots of two lane roads are like that. 
    On this roughly 100-mile stretch of Highway 26, there are sections that climb in elevation, causing the truck traffic to slow down. To help alleviate this natural slowdown of traffic in these areas, the Oregon Department of Transportation has put in passing lanes. These lanes are much appreciated by all of us. 
    My problem with these passing lanes is not the lanes themselves but the people who use them. Or, I should say, some of the people who use them. My experience goes like this. I’m driving along at a reasonable speed. In front of me are several vehicles, and behind me there is more traffic. The speed limit is 55 miles per hour. (What else would it be, we’re in Oregon.) The car leading this string of travelers has a driver who for some reason is moving at a sedate 55 miles per hour. 
    Most everyone in that string of traffic is looking forward to the upcoming passing lane. When it arrives the leader of this pack, (remember our 55 MPH guy?) thinks that for some reason it’s become mandatory for him now to speed up to 70 miles per hour, which he does. Most of us following drivers pull over into the passing lane hoping to get around this consciousness leader, but some of the more faint-hearted, not feeling comfortable exceeding 70 miles per hour, hold their position for a while then slink back in line behind the leader. 
    Some of the following drivers who think they know what is to come, put their foot down and pass this guy if they can get around those who thought they wanted to pass, but find they don’t have the guts for it. Many of the following drivers, feeling that 70 miles per hour is excessive, keep their place in line and enjoy the new pace as set by the leader. 
    Soon the passing lane comes to an end and the leader settles back to his original 55 miles per hour. The people behind him, who still want to travel faster, are cursing themselves for not passing when they had the opportunity. The people who wanted to pass, but were unable to do so because of this huddlehunce’s actions are muttering threats that if carried out would probably involve some jail time.

Classical Music Comes to the Rescue – Again 

    A 7-Eleven has discovered a new use for classical music. Sukhi Sandhu, who else would . . . no I’m not going there, who owns the franchise said that after he started to play symphonies and operas over the outside speakers, at a high volume, the “riffraff left.” 
    It seems that he had panhandlers and other people loitering around making a nuisance of themselves. One of these people claimed that it was just too hard to socialize when the music was that loud. 
    We've heard about classical music; helping plants grow, calming wild beasts, putting people to sleep, and numerous other things, but this is the first time I’ve hear it being used to disperse “riffraff”. 

    The Manatees Can’t Seem to Catch a Break

    A group of Florida manatees were in an amorous mood and trying to mate. 
    A man took exception to what maybe he thought was their licentious behavior. So, he was slapping the water to, I guess, take their mind off what they were trying to do. 
   The news article does not tell us if he was successful or not. Neither did the article didn’t explain what the man had against mating manatees. Maybe his folks didn’t pay enough attention to him when he was a child. Maybe his parents abandoned him at an early age. Maybe they made him eat watercress when he really, really, didn’t like watercress. Maybe . . .but who cares. 
   The guy was trying to keep the manatees from mating, we think, and so he deserves what he gets. 
    Someone recorded he man’s actions and now he’s facing a second-degree misdemeanor charge. I’m guessing that in Florida second- degree misdemeanor carries a penalty of time served, which was probably two hours before his bail was set and he was released, and a fine of up to fifty dollars. 
   Neither of which will bring much comfort to the abused manatees. Then again, maybe it will. How would I know what goes on in the mind of a manatee?

Don’t Mess with The Fajitas in Texas 

    In Texas a person can get by with many things. You can carry a concealed gun without asking anyone’s permission. You can pick your own speed on the roads, especially in the western part of the state. You can shout “ye ha” during any pause at the Symphony without getting dirty, or sympathetic looks from your fellow concert goers. You can wear your ten-gallon hat during the opera, and nobody will take exception, except maybe the short little lady sitting directly behind you. You can tell a totally outrageous story about oil, armadillos, snakes, or just anything, and Texans will be okay with that, as long as the oil, armadillos, snakes or whatever is in or from Texas. 
    But one thing in Texas you better not do is use Fajitas in an unseemly fashion. Example---A gentleman who was working for the Cameron County Juvenile Center was in the habit of ordering Fajitas for the Center, for which the Center paid. But this guy would intercept the delivery of Fajitas, and then sell them to his own customers. He had been doing this for about nine years, which cost the Juvenile Center 1.2 million dollars.
    Things were going along just fine until one day he was at a medical appointment when a delivery of Fajitas arrived at the center. Eight hundred pounds of them. The other people at the Center became a little suspicious when they found that no one had ordered the Fajitas, or at least no one who was present. 
    This led to some questions, and now fifty-three-year-old Gilberto Escamilla is being sent up for fifty years. 
    Moral of this news item: If you’re in Texas, don’t mess around with their Fajitas. 

They’re Just Kids 

    Speaking of authorities that are out to kill whatever fun somebody can think up - - - It seems that in Norway high school graduates have a weeks-long celebration called Russ, for those who care. This spring celebration, involves partying, sex, nudity, heavy drinking, and other things, some of which, tend to challenge public morals. In addition, there are numerous deaths among these young people due to mixing alcohol with driving. So, to quash the young spirits the authorities have put out the following announcement: “No Sex On Roundabouts.” This activity in and of itself is not that frowned upon, but the problem is that drivers, noticing naked bodies on and around the roundabouts, tend to get discombobulated, and have accidents. Therefore, the announcement. How’s that for coming down hard on the nation’s youth?

It Could Be Like This 

   
    While Lorraine and I were talking to my sister, Dorothy, the subject of the weather came up and we commented that just possibly spring might prevail and push whatever weather we’re having out of the way and get on with it. Dorothy capped off that discussion by saying, “It’s good that the coming of spring is not left up to Washington,” meaning the U.S. Congress. 
    As I thought about this idea my mind spun off into what it would be like if Congress was actually responsible for the start of the seasons. It might go something like this - -
    The Honorable Senator from Louisiana, Gator Gaspel, moved that spring start on April first. “After all,” he intoned in a voice that sounded like syrup being poured onto a bass drum, “We’ve had the honeysuckles in bloom now for most of a month.” 
    Seconds to the motion are shouted out by Senators from Mississippi and Alabama, but not by Senators from other Southern states, as they were asleep. 
    This motion was met by an uproar from the Senators from North Dakota, Minnesota, and Wisconsin. The Senator from Wisconsin, Jan Johansson, was finally recognized by the chairman. “Are you people crazy! We still have two feet of snow in the northern part of our state. The harbor at Duluth is still frozen solid. We have to use ice-breakers just to get ships in and out. Spring shouldn’t be started until at least June 30.” He sat down to applause from other Northern states’ Senators, and boos and hisses from the Southern states. The Central states’ Senators just sit there doodling on note pads, playing Free Cell on their IPads, or sleeping. They had been ignored for so long that they feel somewhat disenfranchised from the whole process. 
    The Senator from California stands and demands to be acknowledged. This elicits groans from the surrounding Senators. Other than giving them the finger she ignores them. Once permission to speak was reluctantly granted she starts. “I think we are way ahead of ourselves here. I’ve not seen any environmental statement on our letting spring commence at all, let alone setting a date. It’s well known that without studying the effects of letting spring commence, we just might be putting our planet in jeopardy, and how would we explain that to our children? And for you naysayers, the recent study by the Flat Earth Society makes that very plain.” 
    The Senator from the state of Oregon jumps to his feet while waving a hand as high over his head as he could reach. He’s shouting, “I know the answer to that, I know the answer to that.” 
    The chair tiredly asks while pointing to the Senator from Oregon, “Know the answer to what, Senator Fernel?” 
    “To the question she just asked about the environment.” 
    “I wasn’t aware that she had asked a question. She did make a statement. Now that you have the floor, or so it seems, do you have anything to add to this discussion, and put you hand down, you look like a git.” 
    “Ah, yeah, okay. Before we ask for a study we need Ways and Means to earmark the funds to pay for a study.” 
    “Good point, Senator Fernel. If I recall that’s the first good point you’ve made since joining us six years ago. The people of Oregon must be proud of you.” 
    Senator Fernel punched the air with his fist and said, “Yes.” 
    Then the Chairman, called out, “Is Senator Jamison from Ways and Means here today?” 
    No one spoke, until finally a secretary stuck her head in the chamber and said, “Mr. Jamison is indisposed and not available right now.” 
    The Chairman asks, “Well, Lulu Bell, how long before Senator Jamison can join us?”
    Lulu Bell said, “The judge says it’ll be three to five, before the Senator can rejoin us here on the hill?” 
    The Chairman looks around and finally spots a Senator who has his head below the level of his desk top, pretending to tie his shoe. “Senator Dahl, you’re on Ways and Means, how about funding for an environmental study to determine if we can set a day for spring to start?” 
    Senator Dahl slowly appears from below his desk, and after clearing his throat several times and taking a sip of his throat medicine from a hip flask, says, “What was all that?” 
    “Come on, Dahl, don’t act dumb with me. I know you’re not the brightest light in this chamber, but you know what I’m asking.’ Dahl looks resigned and nods his head. Then after a minute he says, “Okay, for Ways and Means to earmark funds for a study, we need to establish a sub-committee, which we can do right after summer break. Once the sub-committee is seated, they will establish a venue for their meetings, probably Aruba. After their deliberations, which should not take more than a week, weather permitting, they will publish a recommendation. Now this is all predicated on the assumption that this sub-committee doesn’t have any questions bearing on their ability to make a decision. Once the recommendation is published, that recommendation goes to the actual Ways and Means committee for them to decide if they will accept the recommendation.” 
    Dahl paused for breath. The Chairman looks around and thinks, there are more people asleep now than before he started that long-winded explanation. 
    Senator Dahl starts again, or I guess it is a continuation. “Now the only thing that can mess up the momentum of this action is the lobbyists who have heard about the possibility of Ways and Means spending money to do a study on whether or not to fund an environmental study to test the various effects of differing dates for spring to begin.” 
    The Chairman knows all this, but even his eyes are starting to cross. Unfortunately, Senator Dahl is not finished, so continues, “For something as simple as this decision there will only be about thirty to forty lobbyists who will feel compelled to get the people who’ve hired them, oars in these waters. And these lobbyists could be representing anything from the Washington Apple Growers Association to the Society to Educate Samoan Grade School Students on the Proper Disposal of Condoms. So we’ll have lobbyists messing about with the sub-committee members and then with the Ways and Means Committee members, so that by the time an order to disburse comes down from the exalted heights of the Ways and Means Committee, it will no doubt contain funds not only for your environmental study, but for all sorts of other stuff. 
    Now up to this point, with the week in Aruba, and all the time that will have been spent, your request will have only cost the taxpayer twenty-three million dollars.” 
     The Chairman waits for Senator Dahl to continue, but when he doesn’t, asks, “So Senator, can you get this ball rolling? Some of us would like to have spring sometime yet in this calendar year.” 
    Senator Dahl finds this to be quite amusing. He asks, “Really, this year? That’s a good one, Herman.” And as Senator Dahl walks out of the Chamber he keeps saying while quietly chuckling and shaking his head, “This year? Really.” 
    Your tax dollars at work.

Some Things Just Sort of Seem Self-Evident 

   In Alaska, a man came upon a moose and her calf. The man came to the conclusion that this pair of woodland creatures was in his way, so he kicked the moose. In retaliation the moose stomped on his foot and did considerable damage. Or so we’re told. Now moose being what they are, this man is lucky that he didn’t get dropped kicked into the next county. You’d think that not kicking a moose would be somewhat self-evident. Now it is. 

    If this had happened in Louisiana, where a resident might not be up on approved moose etiquette, we might expect this kind of unenlightened behavior. But in Alaska, where moose are wandering all over the landscape, and warnings about ‘not kicking the moose’ are tacked to every fence post, or so we’re led to believe, you’d expect this guy to know better. Now he does. 

    And then we have the guy who snuck into his ex-girlfriend’s house, and while hiding in her attic, fell through the ceiling. The report tells us that this man had been previously arrested for stealing women’s clothes, and that he had been recently released from the hospital. The exact sequence of events is somewhat hazy. We don’t know why he was in the hospital, but we can guess. We’re not sure if the attic thing was to evade police who were looking for him, or if he just had a thing about attics, or maybe a thing for the ex-girlfriend. Or then again maybe he didn’t have a clue what he was doing. But my point is that the decision to hide in the attic was a poor decision that should have been fairly self-evident. Now it is. 

    And then we have Los Angeles where a young boy, while playing on some wooden planks that covered an access portal to the city’s sewer system, broke through the planks and fell into the sewer, where he spent twelve hours before he could be rescued. It had have been a horrific experience for the young boy, and we’re glad he survived. But a couple points - - this portal to the city sewer was in a park, where this boy’s family, as well as other people, were having an outing. 

   Now if this had been, say, a non-working drinking fountain or something similar, the city would no doubt have had it fenced off along with posted warning signs, and probably a Park Police presence to keep people from trying to use the thing. But for an access portal to a twenty-five foot drop down into the city’s sewer system, they felt that a couple boards across the opening would suffice. You’d think something better would have been self-evident. Now it is.

What You Eat Can Kill You – So Wait Until Next Week When it Will Good for You 

    Another article about food that has been passed before my eyes is now telling me that fats, for so long the bug-a-boo of a healthy diet, are now essential. But not all fats. A person needs a built-in computer to keep track of the difference between the good and bad fats. And that computer better be able to keep up with this information, as tomorrow it will change. 

    Vegetable oils, so long the saviors of the healthy diet and the only thing keeping our hearts going, we now find are lowering our cholesterol but increasing our chances of dying. Figure that one out. After all we heard about high cholesterol and to what lengths we went to avoid it, we now find that there are good and bad cholesterols. Again, the need for that built in computer. 

    There are all these studies showing just about any conclusion you want to support. Red meat is bad, red meat is good for you, as long as the cow has been fed grass and not grain. Mediterranean diet is the only way to go; Mediterranean diet will kill you. It used to be that you had to eat mostly carbs, and now we know, or think we do, that carbs are bad. Dairy was something no one would touch who had any respect for their body and wanted to live a long life, but now dairy is not so bad and maybe just what we need. 

    You can pick anything that you like to eat and find a study supporting your desires.

   What I’d like to see is a study that tells us the effect on longevity and contentment of constantly worrying about what we’re eating. I’m guessing that the study would find that we could eat about anything we wanted, as long as we ate a variety of foods in moderation and didn’t worry about it. Just an idea.

Journalism at Its Finest? 

   First let’s look at the headline of this new article filed by Nicholas Cardona and picked up by AOL news - - - 

 Neighbor of Shooting Range Tied to Trump Family: 

    What does “tied to” in this headline mean? It could be several things. The neighbor is an employee of the Trump family---the neighbor is a third cousin to someone named Trump---the neighbor once talked with a Trump family member. 
    So we have no idea how this neighbor is connected to someone named Trump, or if what the neighbor says is of any significance to this news article. 
    Next - - It states that Donald and Eric have “ties to a company that owns a shooting range”---it could mean that they own the company that owns the shooting range company - -it could mean that they own stock in the company - - it could mean that they once bought a candy bar from this company - -
    Next, Nicholas claims “that the AP is reporting that it looks like the Trumps acquired the property through limited liability companies.” So the AP is saying that it “looks like”---which tells me that the AP has no idea, and are too lazy to find out, but have just enough energy to publish this news article - investigative journalism this isn’t. 
    So, the news article tells us nothing substantive. But it does, I believe, try to leave the casual reader with the idea that the Trumps are operating a shooting range. And this right on the heels of the latest horrendous school shooting. Curious timing.
    The question here is, what is Nicholas trying to tell us with this news article? It could look like he is trying to get the name Trump and shooting range in the same thought, so the unsophisticated reader will come away saying, “Trump, shooting range, Wow!” and with the recent school shooting fresh in their minds, somehow get lodged in their heads the thought that the Trumps are probably complicit in the school shooting. 
    Or again, maybe it’s just plain sloppy journalism.

Other Notable People Born on January 27th

    Modesty and time will permit me to mention only several. Let’s start with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart who was also born on January 27. No kidding. And the only reason I’m dragging him into this is because of what his music is able to accomplish with sheep. I mean his music is okay for other things also, but the sheep---well, let me start at the beginning. It seems that Australian Merino sheep who listen to opera (they really didn’t say if it was Mozart’s or not, but I mean, come on) seem to grow much finer wool than sheep who are left alone to be chased around by those creepy looking sheep dogs. So much finer in fact that the price is 367 times the normal market price. Now, unless the sheep learn the difference between an amplified CD recording of an opera and a live performance, this is a great deal for the sheep owners. Nobody is giving an opinion on why this happens. I know from personal experience that about the time I started going to the opera is when hair started growing out of my ears. That may have been a coincidence. 
    Another notable personage born on January 27 was Friedrich Wilhelm Viktor Albert, who was later known as Kaiser Wilhelm, Emperor of Germany. His inept handling of the political situation in the early 1900s helped lead to World War I. 
   And let’s not forget Frank Nitti who was born on January 27, and served with distinction as one of Al Capone's top henchmen and later the front man for the Chicago Outfit, the organized crime syndicate headed by Capone. 
   And then there was Captain Edward J. Smith, born on January 27. He was captain of the Titanic---what more can we say. 
    A person could get the impression that this date is connected to people of genius-level abilities or of dubious character, or then again, maybe both.

The Only Logical Conclusion? 

    There seems to be an asteroid with the name of ‘Oumuamua’ that is being monitored by Breakthrough Listen, which is a project that monitors over one million such things as this asteroid, listening for signs of intelligent life. 
   Now first of all, it someone gave me a name like ‘Oumuamua’, I might not be too keen on answering either, but that’s just me. There has been no response from this big rock which would suggest there is no intelligent life aboard. 
    So, the conclusion from some of the people connected to this project is that there is life on this asteroid, but that this life is just ignoring us. 
    So what’s worse, that there’s no life on this asteroid, or that there is life aboard and we’re just too insignificant to bother answering? The latter would be a real put-down. 
    But one thing these people haven’t thought of, or at least they’re not talking about, is that this asteroid, or the life forms on it, think they’re sneaking up on us. I can imagine that the life on this asteroid has been monitoring our media for the past several years. They’ve watched our primetime TV shows and have come to the conclusion that the males of the species are dumber than soap, and not near as clean, and that the females of the species are obsessed with how they look, and spend most of their time trying to manage their mates. The children of the species don’t respect their parents or any other older members of society and are continually making bad decisions, but then seem to get it all straightened out within sixty minutes. 
    On the upside for these asteroid life forms is the entertainment they derive from watching the political leaders on this planet. I’m guessing there are times when they are laughing so hard they have difficulty steering their asteroid, which just may be our salvation.