Tick, Tic, Tikk

With one exception, I have been exploring measurements and sizes lately. I still have a couple of ideas to share with you. For one thing, the whole world seems to like the metric system, but I have never come to grips with it. I have looked at a few conversion tables but they just confused me more. However, I was thinking that the idea of metric time sounds interesting.

It all starts out okay. A millennium is a thousand years. Yep, that sounds like a nice metric-type number.

Then we have a century. Ten of those make up a millennium. So far, so good.

Next, there are ten decades in a century. No problem.

And everybody knows there are ten years in a decade. Maybe this is going to work out. Let’s keep going.

The next measure requires a little adjustment. Instead of having 12 months, which will never do, we are going to have to chop up the metric year into 10 equal months of 36.525 days each. But we can’t have bizarre numbers like that.

So we have to break the month into 10 metric weeks. Now let me see, each metric week would have 3.6525 days in it; but, that has to change to a more metric like number:

Therefore, we will have 10 metric days in every metric week, each metric day will consist of 8.766 of today’s hours. But we’ll have to round that off to 10 hours.

Let’s see now, each of the new metric hours will have 52.956 minutes in them. But that too needs converted.

Each of the new metric minute will last exactly 33.56 seconds. But wait, seconds must also be broken down. The new seconds will flash by in nearly one-third of the time it takes them now.

Good grief, no wonder we never converted to metric time.

By the way, I mentioned the wacky idea of metric time to my son, Justin, and he tells me that Hitler really did try to implement such a system.

By now you might think Hitler and I are nuts, but we have plenty of company. As it works out, the idea of metric times has been explored by several other people and governments. The Republic of Cascadia (what ever that is) has thought it out. The writer speaks in terms of decidays, centidays, milidays and microdays. He discusses the base system of 10 vs. base-sixty as we use now. He also examines a base-twenty system, but notes it would be a bit cumbersome to convert. Well “deciduh” to him. Isn’t that the base-point?

Another site, which appears to be Dutch (I cannot be certain because the heading is vague) seems to take my approach, but lays it out in a nice visual way. He refers to it all as “decimal time”. He also includes a version of binary time. It was exactly 110:101100:101101 o’clock (?) when I checked in. He has about 10 other ways to measure time, including “percentage” clocks. This fellow has some other fascinating ideas, like giving everybody new names using combinations of letters and names; a lot like those characters in Star Wars: R2D2 and C3PO. I visited this site at 5:30 this morning (or was it 17.6255% before breakfast) and burned so many brain cells I thought I was back at my hippie days in college.

Dr. Winstead has combined metric and percentage times together and actually posted functioning “clocks” to illustrate what time it is in those formats. He also lists Greenwich Mean Universal time which is the most accurate time in the sense that we think of it.

More on metrics next time, but I don’t know if it will be metric time or not.

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Equinox vs Solstice

Equinox vs Solstice

I have been discussing sizes and measurements lately, but today (December 21) is the Winter Solstice, so I thought I would digress and chat about that.

To begin with, the equinoxes and solstices are both related to the length of time between sunset and sunrise. All of that is determined by the Earth’s axis and equator. Artic Maps has a good visual explanation. To understand how it all works just think about the days getting longer and shorter throughout the year.

The shortest day of the year is the first day of winter. That is also the Winter Solstice. As the days get longer, eventually there is a day that has “equal” time between sunset and sunrise. “Equal” is the root word in Equinox, so the Spring Equinox is the day in the spring when the time between sunset and sundown are “equal”.

In the summer, the longest day comes around. That is the first official day of summer and it is also the Summer Solstice. Continuing from there, the days start getting shorter until day and night are “equal” again and that is the Fall Equinox. Three months later we are back to the shortest day, which is also the Winter Solstice

Okay, that puts them in order, but there are still some fun facts to observe. For starters all four days are three months apart and they nearly always fall on the 20th thru the 23rd of the respective months (December, March, June and September) . Specific dates are on the Wikipedia chart.

During the Spring Equinox, you can stand a raw egg strait up. Be sure to hold the egg upright for a few minutes to let the yolk settle. Then be patient. It is best to use a chart like the one previously mentioned to pick the exact best time of the day for this exercise. Mark your calendar for March 20, 2010, 5:32 pm Eastern. If you wish to help a youngster to balance an egg this way, it might be helpful to hide a few granules of salt under the egg.

Once you get use to these dates they come to you just as automatically as December 25th or July 4th.

A little history about solstice

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Rings 4 U

One of the few situations in which men and women wear the same size of something is with their rings. In this case identical finger sizes wear identical ring sizes regardless of gender. But, I did a little research and found that ring sizes vary around the globe. Here is an International Chart. To find out your own ring size go here.

There are several different schools of thought. We will observe the Americans the Brits and the Japanese. The Americans and the Japanese use number systems but the Brits use a lettering system…sort of.

As far as the numbers are concerned Americans, have a ring we identify as a size 2. The Japanese also refer to that size as a number 2. The Brits say it is a size D. This would suggest that we are closely aligned with the Japanese but if all of this made sense there would be no reason to discuss it.

When the Americans refer to a ring as a size 4 ½ the Japanese call it an 8, and the Brits come in at the letter I. Now it appears that we are progressing up the number scale at about the same rate the Brits move up the alphabet and the Japanese are employing some progressive number system. But the Brits have the strangest system of all.

As sizes get progressively bigger, their whole-sizes and their half-sizes are assigned the next letter in the alphabet, but the quarter sizes and their three-quarter sizes are identified as a fraction; but, NOT THE CORRECT FRACTION. All of the quarter sizes are referred to as half sizes (you might have to read that again). So let’s look at a chain of sizes and see how things work out. Americans might refer to a series of smaller rings as sizes 3, 3 ¼, 3 ½, 3 ¾, and 4. The Brits call those sizes F, F ½, G, G ½, H.

Look at that closely and you will see what I mean when I say the quarter-sizes are referred to as half-sizes. Oddly, the one size that really is a half-size (G) does not have the fraction behind it. It is just a whole letter. That is goofy. Now all of that is strange enough but it makes me wonder why they use both letters and numbers in the first place. Couldn’t they just pick one or the other? If they want to use letters, the quarter-sizes could have been identified with a lower case q and the half sizes and the three-quarter sizes could have been identified with a lower cast t. Then that string of sizes would look like this: F, Fq, G, Gt, H. I suppose they must have thought of that, but I still think it is weird to refer to all fractions as ½.

I noticed one other ironic twist with ring sizes. My own ring size is a 7 ¼, which is almost the exact same size as my hat. That would suggest that I can wear my hat on my finger and my ring as a hat. If I walked into a room dressed like that people would think I am a nut. In fact you might even call me that just for thinking these thoughts and writing this article.

Oh well, I told you this measurements and sizes stuff is amusing.

More to come

One of my friends has over 11,000 pieces of jewelry on her website. Stop by and take a peek.

Super Expensive celebrity engagement rings.

As always, we love to hear your stories about sizes and rings.

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Undies as I See Them

As you may know I have been observing measurements lately. A big part of what I wanted to talk about was clothing sizes for both genders. I found plenty of fun things to discuss and identified them in previous posts.

To write those pieces, I had to do some research. I considered all of the common articles of clothing including women’s panties and bras. I went on to suggest that the sizes of female clothing has more to do with vanity than anything else. One of my favorite females even admitted, in the comment section, that she has purchased some of her clothes because the labels fibbed and implied that she was a bit smaller than she actually is.

But the panty sizes are the greatest example of female vanity. We established that a woman with measurements of 35. 23, 35 would wear a dress, or a pair of slacks, sized 10 or so. Therefore, if sizes made sense, women should wear underpants of the same size, but no,no, no!!! That would never do. Common sense has no place in a conversation about female clothing. If we elect to have a little mischievous boyish fun, we might peek inside her innermost garment and discover that she wears a size 4 or 5. Once again this defies any logic this side of common sense. How can her slacks and her bikini-briefs size be so different?

When it comes to bra sizes, as far as I could tell, it all seemed to make sense, but I am pleased to note that my time was not wasted. I found several interesting facts about the bra and one site actually showed actual breasts,(if you must look) of all sizes between size 32AA and Size 38DD. That seemed peculiar because I searched for information about bra sizes not breast sizes. Well anyway, since I knew my readers expected me to do my homework, I paid close attention.

After I got my mind back on track, I discovered that the double-cup bra was not invented until 1913. The inventor, Caresse Cosby, was 25 at the time. Her idea was to sew two handkerchiefs together and hold it all up with a couple of ribbons. Two years later, she sold her patent and a multi-billion dollar industry was born. Caresse went on to become an accomplished writer and publisher. That is quite a resume for an era when women were not even allowed to vote.

What struck me as newsworthy about Ms. Cosby’s invention was the date. I would have assumed that the classic garment was supporting women long before that. I wonder what took so long?

By the 50’s bras were especially pointed. If you watch movies from that era you will see tight sweaters and women who look very uncomfortable. Interestingly, pointed bras, Marilyn Monroe style, seem to be making a comeback, only a bit more comfortable this time.

Then in the sixties the woman burned their bras in protest of a male dominated society. I was pleased to encourage them at the time, but that was a mistake because I was not fully aware of the long-term effects of gravity.

As the next few decades evolved, there are all sorts of new types of bras. One site had 17 different bra styles. Another site had 31. There are special wire bras, training bras, bras for nursing and athletics and of course there are padded bras and many more. It appears if somebody will invent it, somebody else will wear it.

Before I left the topic, I decided to find out what I could about men’s bras. I was surprised to learn that they are not especially uncommon. Some fellows who had muscular chests as young men discover that all of that muscle turns to fat as the years go by. Some of them like to buy what is called a support vest. Other men just gain weight and need the support. And then there are the fellows who simply like wearing women’s clothing. The Japanese seem to have some interest in that idea. I couldn’t bring myself to research them any further. That was enough!

So, that is what I found out about the female support system. Understandably, women (and man-kind) are constantly trying to improve on the brassiere, but as far as I know the patent for a triple-cup bra is still wide open. Perhaps they will show up in another couple of decades.

Your Turn! What do you have to say?

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Sizing Up The Ladies

When it comes to sizes, women are even more interesting than men. I say “interesting” because a certain fellow, of a 40-year marriage, has learned not to criticize the fairer sex. It is far wiser to tell them they are ‘interesting”

Okay, now that I have set myself up for an extended trip to the proverbial dog house, I might as well speak my mind. Here it is. The oddities in female clothing nearly all point to one thing: Female vanity. There I said it.

If you have read my previous post (scroll down) about male sizes, you remember that we ended by discussing feet and shoe sizes, so that is a good place to begin the discussion of the feminine gender, their vanity and their attire. Let’s pick up where we left off: Shoes.

Imagine a man and a woman who have the exact same size foot and they can wear each other’s shoes. If you peak inside his shoe and notice it is a size 9, her size is 7 ½. Now how do you explain that with anything other than female vanity?

Note: Fun foot facts: 1) 90% of women wear the wrong size shoe 2) The largest size man’s shoe has been a size 37. 3) High heels make your feet look smaller. (Perhaps the previous fellow should have tried that)

Now let’s examine dress sizes. When I decided to write this article, I asked five women what they thought the ideal measurements for women are. When I averaged them out, then rounded off to the nearest whole number, the ladies told me the ideal female measurements are 35-23-35. My sister, Carol, said the ideal waist size is a 19, so she brought the average down, but she was 67 years old at the time, and that certainly qualified her to have her own opinion.

Then I asked several guys the same question. They thought the ideal size for women’s breasts was somewhere around a 46. As long as we were willing to discuss boobs like that they were too giddy to waste time discussing the waist or hips. But, I must stay on topic.

If you will allow me to examine the ideal female body, as my lady friends identified it, I would argue that her dress size ought to reflect one of the three primary measurements: In this case 35, 23, 35. What could be any easier than that? If you go by the breasts or hips, her dress would be a size 35; or if you went by the waist size, she would wear a size 23; or if we added them all up, she would wear a size 93. Even though that would make perfect sense, I cannot imagine any woman, especially one with “an ideal body” who would want to don a dress, sized 93!!!

Regardless of all of the careful measurements, none of that is good enough to identify dress sizes. For reasons only known to secret intellectuals of generations gone by, somebody in the faded pages of history decided that the dress that fits the average size woman is a 10, not a 93, as logic would suggest.

Once again this attracts the indisputable accusation of female vanity. In fact according to the Seattle Times women are even willing to pay more for clothes that are inaccurately labeled. They call it “Vanity sizing”.

The average sized woman wears a dress sized 10, but the average size man wears a suit, size 40. WE'RE NOT FOUR TIMES AS BIG! If the average sized man was really four times as big as the average sized woman, then when they go out on a date they would look a lot like the charming couple in this picture.



That might work out fine for a dinner date, but it would probably mean couples would never go bowling or dancing.

Do you still need more proof? The smallest size man's suit, before he has to shop in the boys department, is usually a size 32; but, the smallest size pants, before a smallish woman shops in the girls department, is size 0….. ZERO? ZERO? How the heck can anybody be a size zero? Zero equals nothing! She is certainly a heck of a lot more than that!

If women are going to refer to themselves by the sizes as indicated, why does anybody even bother identifying their measurements in the first place? I guess it is so the giddy guys will have a civilized way to refer to their upper body parts. I suppose it is possible that some of the more “interesting” ladies don’t like it when college guys say magumbos, sweater stretchers, milk pillows, mama’s melons, 4 hands-full, fun bags, big Berthas, B1 & B2, bumpers, coconuts, Thelma and Louise, the girls, mosquito bites, Lavern and Shirley, Winnebagos, Volvos or any one of a hundred other nick-names.

That seems unfair to me. If women want to distort the truth, why should the fellows be held to high standards?

Next up! The undies!

What say you?

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If Sizes Made Sense

Have you ever considered how we measure things? There are some interesting observations in sizes, distances, weight and so forth; so much in fact, I am going to have to spread it out over several articles. The first one is about Men’s clothing sizes. Let’s see if you find this as amusing as I do.

To get things rolling, let me stick my neck out and measure it. It is a size 16. Okay! Fair enough! But when I put my hat on, things start getting weird. Many fellows prefer those baseball style caps in which one-size-fits-all, but other types of hats are fitted. In my case, I once needed the correct sized football helmet. That was when I found out my hat size is a 7 3/8.

When you think about neck and hat sizes together, they don’t make sense. If my head size is a 7 3/8 and my neck size is a 16, my head should be only half the size of my neck. I actually measured an orange and it is about 7 ½ inches in circumference. Therefore that is how big my head would be “if sizes made sense”. That would sure make it a lot easier to get my T-shirts on and off.



Since my head is bigger than my neck, my head size should be bigger than my neck size. I measured my head the same way one measures a neck, and my head is actually 23 inches around the crown. Therefore, “if sizes made sense” that would be my hat size. The Village Hat Shop is willing to explain how to measure your head for a hat size, but it is stupid if you ask me.This is one of the first things I would change when it comes to men’s sizes.

Another oddity in men’s sizes is found on the other end of our body: the feet. As difficult as it is to believe, I really don’t know what size my foot is. I can tell you that it is fairly wide and I am flatfooted. Some shoes come in several widths but others are less accommodating. That means certain shoes that are wide enough for me, tend to be too long; and shoes that are of the correct length tend to be too cramped. After all of that is taken into consideration, my tennis shoe is a size 10 ½.

Socks are more interesting. They are usually designed to fit a wide range of feet. I guess they are adjustable in their own way. But unlike hats, they have no legitimate way to adjust them, so the consumer is left to his own devises to make ‘em fit.

Hanes and other manufacturers actually have socks that fit sizes six through twelve. That is dumb. The guy who has a size-six foot must have an extra inch of sock jammed into the toe of his shoe, which means he should buy a bigger shoe just to get all of the extra sock in there. Or, to get the toe end to fit, he has to pull the tops up to his knees.

On the other hand, the fellow with a size-twelve foot must feel like he is squeezing it into some sort of ridiculously tight sock-girdle. He trains his toes to become contortionists so they can squeeze into a receptacle that is way too small. When he does finally get the socks on, they must be constantly seeking a less stretched-out position. If you see big guys pulling their socks up quite a bit, now you will know why.

If you will allow me to digress for a moment, I can’t help but wonder if the guys who live with extra room in their socks probably also where boxer shorts while the guys who don’t mind cramped quarters would probably be more willing to wear briefs, or “tighty whities” as some people refer to them.

Getting back to socks, the sock that fits me best is a size 12. How do we explain that, given the fact that my shoe is a size 10 ½? Since we are talking about the same foot here, shouldn’t both sizes be the same? Or, the sock should be a smaller size since it goes on first, and then the bigger item, the shoe, could be a slightly larger size. But that is not how things are.

“If sizes made sense” I would put my size 10 ½ shoe on first and then put my size 12 sock on over the shoe. That might look ridiculous but at least it would be orderly.



Considering how the manufacturers try to make one size fit all, and there are so few special sock styles, I am surprised you do not hear more about custom made socks, If you want to see just what is possible with these little foot cases, check out the Sock Guy. He has some really cool custom made socks that will make you want to remove your shoes everywhere you go, just so you can show off.

Don’t think I have overlooked the ladies. Women’s sizes are even more interesting. We will talk about them next time.

Comments?

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Soul to Soul

Before she retired, she devoted 30 years of her life to treating cancer patients. The latter half of that impressive run was as the Chief Technologist at a highly regarded hospital. She was the only person in her state’s history to ever elevate a radiation therapy department to the professional level necessary to earn a Certification from the uppity American College of Radiology.

Prior to issuing the Certificate, the college authorities assigned inspectors to spend days in her department. They investigated everything. No detail was overlooked. All of her policy manuals were scrutinized and discussed. They checked for cleanliness, professionalism, billing procedures, goals, procedures and more.

The support staff she assembled was exemplary. They were trained in all of the latest types of treatments. There were experts at chemotherapy, implants and radiation therapy. She had her own physicist whose job it was to recalibrate the machines every day to insure the most accurate radiation treatments possible. They were all superbly trained, educated, experienced and skilled.

As exceptional as all of that was, this petite woman demanded even more of herself and her staff. Merely treating patients was not enough. There had to be one more important ingredient in “her” department. Compassion was essential. Allowances had to be made for any special needs her patients might have.

She knew that the unfortunate people who are subjected to the unique challenges of cancer are filled with emotion. They are usually elderly, exhausted, frail, confused and afraid. She looked upon their psychological well-being with equal importance as their physical condition. Not surprisingly, she actually bothered to “love” her patients, and they had no doubt about her sincerity. She connected with them “Soul to Soul”.

Her attitudes and philosophies were contagious. She attracted other professionals of similar minds, and together they built a department that was second to none. They received thank you notes, candy, flowers and heart-felt hugs by the hundreds for the kind way “you treated Daddy when he needed your tenderness” or “the way you cheered up my wife every day.” And of course there were the young people who were ill. Her department was God’s gift to them all.

Devotion like that does not go unnoticed. Doctors referred their own patients, friends and families to her distinguished department. Then one day she received a call from a famous TV star who was in need of her services. His doctor knew the best place to send him. Like so many other patients, the actor had a special problem. He was well-known so if he obtained treatments during normal office hours the press would get wind of it and distract the public from his work.

She handled it perfectly. She set up an early-dawn meeting with the actor and laid out a plan which she had devised especially for him. She established an “alias” file and referred to him as “Mr. Nelson”. She and her staff came to work an hour and a half early each day for six-weeks to administer his treatments so that he could slip away before the department’s customary office hours. Mr. Nelson’s secret was safe.

She did not make these allowances for Mr. Nelson just because he was actually Raymond Burr (Perry Mason videos). She did it because that is what “Mr. Nelson” truly needed, “Soul to Soul”. They would have done the same thing for anybody who needed such an accommodation. A couple of months later, Mr. Burr showed his appreciation by taking the entire department and their spouses to a luxurious banquet. He also invited his staff and all of the other actors from his then current series (Ironside). Mr. Burr genuinely enjoyed seeing all of his old friends and new friends comingle.

Raymond Burr is not the only famous or powerful person to seek out this special woman. The famous astronaut, Jack Swigert, who was played by Tom Hanks in the movie Apollo 13, also needed her. So did a well known grocer and many others. She also shared inspirational experiences with famous athletes and coaches. They all respected the gifted little woman who barely weighed 110 pounds.

After she retired, a huge void became immediately apparent in that formerly-inspired department. The other techs sought positions in hospitals closer to their homes. The new mangers were competent, but unable to live up to the legacy she left behind. Eventually, the certification came up for renewal and they just couldn’t match her standards, so it silently expired. No other certificates of its kind have ever been awarded in her state.

There is no doubt that this extraordinary woman has inspired many others to reach out and achieve greatness. She accomplished so much because she understood that to convert her dreams into reality she had to employ two other special qualities: Commitment and Action.

Many men and women never do understand the importance of these concepts. We have all imagined accomplishing something, but failed to “commit” to our dreams, so we fall short of our potential. Or there are those times when we see a friend at a party and say something like, “Let’s get together for dinner, sometime.” When they agree we have the commitment, but we never follow through, and that lack of action steals away accomplishments. So, you see inspiration without Commitment and Action is merely fantasy, and this woman was not willing to let her destiny be determined by the whims of incomplete fantasies. As she has shown us all, true achievement requires taking those two additional steps: Commitment and Action.

If you are wondering how I ever learned of such a special woman, I am pleased to say I have been married to her for 39 years. Her name is Patty. Her work is just one of several ways that Patty has been inspiring others throughout her life. She has amazed me over and over again. And I hope now, in some small way, she has also inspired you,

She is top center in the picture. Click on it to enlarge.

Note: The above story was written for a speech I gave at Toastmasters. As I was driving home, afterwards, it occurred to me that we all take too much for granted. Most of us are surrounded by greatness in the everyday people we know and love. This was one of the few times I really took the time to appreciate the woman who has meant so much to me and I am disappointed in myself for that. Patty deserves so much more.

So, all of this leads me to a few questions which I have for you.

Who has inspired you, and deserves your appreciation?

What Commitment are you willing to make to show them your appreciation?

And what Action are you willing to take to assure that your inspiration and commitment are not just parts of a fleeting fantasy?

Your input is welcomed

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The Great Thanksgiving Lie

"I Like Left-Over Turkey"

As I write this, it is twenty minutes prior to the half-hour before the afternoon of Thanksgiving Eve. Tomorrow is a day for overindulgence. Like most Americans, I will eat too much, take a nap and watch a ton of football. I will gather with the same people as last year and the year before that and the year before that. I like it that way. Everything will be just right. My greatest pleasure will come later in the day.

Somewhere along the way we will deep fry a few smaller turkeys and someone will say how much they like leftovers. (some recipes) Suddenly, as if on cue, the trap has sprung. It tastes as sugary-sweet to me as that first bite of yams and marshmallows. That comment is my opportunity to launch into my usual rant. I like to expose the lie.

My controversial proposition is that nobody really wants left-over turkey, they just think they do. I could only find a few people who agreed with me. God have mercy on any newcomer that might suggest otherwise. My unsuspecting victim will predictably defend the common belief and say something like, “I have always liked left over turkey sandwiches.” Then I circle my prey and move in for the kill. He is “my” turkey for the day.

I probe, “Have you ever cooked a turkey and then put it in the frig for a couple of days so that it could age a bit, like a side of beef, before you ate it?” It is at this time that the victim realizes he is waist-deep in some sort of Turkey-day quicksand. As he attempts to gather his day-old thoughts I notice his enlarged eyes nearly pleading for mercy.

It is at that moment that my dupe becomes a tasty side dish to me: his primary purpose is to appease my insatiable argumentative appetite. Before he gets a chance to gather his giblets, I hit him with my cranberry clincher, “Have you ever gone to a restaurant and told them you don’t want today’s fresh turkey, and to bring you yesterday’s left-over turkey instead?” I feel so naughty because it is woefully unfair to lure those of inferior intellect into my menacing trap. Ha, ha, ha, ha. I know the answer to my cleverly worded question and the dressing-headed victim knows that I know he is my slice of pumpkin pie. Yum!

Naturally, he has never done anything to seek out left-over turkey. The truth of the matter is it takes a lot of work to prepare a thanksgiving feast and after it is over there is a natural desire to kick back. Since there is a pile of the dead bird hanging around and there is a carcass that can be converted into some turkey noodle soup or a casserole, it just makes sense to use it. In some families they eat leftover turkey for nearly a week. By then, they must hate it. So, I contend that we tolerate left-over turkey but we don’t like it enough to pursue it.

If you buy into my basic point I suggest from now on you buy 3 or 4 small turkeys (say 10-12 pounds or so) when they are on sale and freeze them. Then when you bake a turkey invite a friend over and finish it off in one meal or two. That way you won’t tire of it and you will enjoy fresh turkey rather than that day-old, leftover, dried out, old-hat, I wish I wouldn’t have bought this monster fowl kind of turkey. I rest my case.

ps. It was Bob

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Thanksgiving Tradition: Xtreme Gluttony

Several decades ago Patty and I began sharing Turkey day with her parents, at their mountain home, along with Patty’s sister, Mary Ann, and her husband, Dusty. Ordinarily the six of us were accompanied by a canine or two and a wonderful tradition was underway.

Over the years, a few new kids showed up; five in fact. Once in a while a stray friend or relative would join in, but the core group repeated that pattern or a reasonable facsimile of it nearly every year.

Patty’s parents actually built the home themselves, and they included a floor-to-ceiling moss-rock fireplace in the living room. We stuffed it with firewood from their own land, and enjoyed a most-comfy setting. Like most other families, we feasted to the belt-bustin’ stage. Throw in a few football games and all of that added up to my favorite holiday.

A typical meal would include a turkey the size of a VW bug, (see 22 footer) as well as all of the trimmin’s, which included several favorite family recopies, much like those at Serious Eats. Oh yeah, there was also two or three different pies and enough whip cream to fulfill all of the fantasies of every man woman and child on the planet. (Insert your fantasy in comments section below) Ah, the good ol’ days.

Naturally, that meal did not just materialize out of thin air. Somebody had to do a lot of work and I will admit that I did not quite do my fair share. Oh hell, let’s be honest here: The women did it all!!!... I just showed up and enjoyed the fruits of their labor.

As the family grew, so did the demands. Sometimes new dishes were introduced, and on other occasions the women just made more of the old favorites. Either way was fine with me. Once in a while I waddled over to the wood pile and retrieved a log to add to the fire, or I might have strained myself by changing channels on the TV from one game to another, but overall, I was one of several kings in that splendid little mountain home.

Eventually, some of the working-class folks came to their collective senses. I actually overheard one of the more boisterous complainers suggest that it would be nice to have a little extra help from some of the lazy people (who could that be?) who seemed to be unable to locate the kitchen when there was work to do. However, and fortunately for me, the kitchen in that humble home was not designed for a herd of cooks so the comment was more of a feigned complaint than a practical solution to a legitimate problem. Still, the sentiment of the remark could not be ignored, even by the most selfish among us: Me.

Since I had been the beneficiary of other people’s efforts for quite a few years, some pent-up guilt grabbed my ill-prepared tongue. Without sufficient forethought I quipped, “I will be happy to take care of the entire dinner next year.” A shock wave that surely measured a solid seven on the Richter Scale, enveloped the ears of those who knew that my chance of pulling that off was about as likely as me becoming the first pregnant male. Unable to hide the sarcasm, one of the usual chefs demanded to know just how I would propose to accomplish such a monumental task.

Finding myself backed into a self-imposed corner, I demanded of my mind that it quickly make up something credible that would get me out of my most uncomfortable predicament. Suddenly the great Turkey God sent me a special blessing for which I have been forever grateful ever since. Without so much as missing one swirl in a bowl of mashed potatoes I said, “Simple, I will just go to Boston Market and buy enough food for all of us and nobody will have to do much of anything.” Ah what a stroke of brilliance!

The complainer, so very proud of all of her favorite T-Day dishes, promptly retorted that the holiday would not be the same with “store-bought love”. Whew! That declaration revealed a weakness in my adversary’s game-plan: Namely, the tradition was more important to her than escaping the work-load.

Knowing her weakness, and realizing that my next comment might determine the format of all future feasts, I hit her with my knock-out punch, “Look, nobody said we have to have all of those specific dishes or that anybody in particular has to take responsibility for the ordeal. I never tell you how to do it, but if you want me to do it, at least let me do it my way.”

“That just wouldn’t be the same.”

And that guaranteed that things would go on “as usual” until further notice.

As the years ticked by, Patty’s dad passed on and her mom could not keep up with the lifestyle of living in the mountains. Most of the grandkids got married and a new generation of youngins has joined the mix. That means a few more friends get invited and there is still a pack of dogs to attend.

For the last few years we have moved the gathering to Adam’s home, which is much better suited to a clan of this size. The good news is we have changed one primary tradition. I buy an entire flock of small turkeys and the fellows deep-fry them, along with any other crazy concoctions they dream up. But I am happy to report that tradition, gluttony, pumpkin pie with lots of whip cream, and football still play a prominent role.

I love Thanksgiving.

What about you?

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Your Role in the Health Care Crisis

In my most recent article (scroll down, below this one), we explored whether the recent recommendations that women cut back on mammograms and pap smears make sense; and, if that philosophical shift is the beginning of healthcare rationing. On the first matter, I interviewed an expert on the topic and sided with her when she suggested that women take too many unnecessary tests. Regarding the issue about rationing, it is easy to be suspicious, but it is too early to make that assertion without some hard evidence.

Following that post, I received several emails on the topic and other people left interesting “comments” at the end of the main article. There was a broad range of ideas among the group, but the underlying theme is we are all dissatisfied. The most fascinating fact is there was never any discussion of the Obama healthcare bill currently on the table. The collective silence about that matter was deafening.

What I gathered from all of this is everybody dislikes something about the healthcare system. Let’s see who the biggest culprits are.

Doctors: One hundred years ago doctors did not have to go to college, just medical school. They made house calls, they accepted chickens and other insignificant items as payment for their services, and they were considered to be ordinary members of the community: certainly not entitled to a life of luxury.

All of that changed over time, but especially beginning in the 80’s as health insurance became common. When that happened, the public stopped worrying about the cost of their doctor’s bills because they believed that somebody else was paying the freight. Once the shackles were removed from the public’s ability to pay for medical treatments, the doctors were free to charge as much as the deeper pockets of the insurance companies would pay.

Now waiting rooms are packed and it seems like the employees at the doctors’ offices are more concerned with who our insurance company is than what our ailments are.

This concept has worked so well for physicians that other professionals such as dentists, veterinarians and chiropractors have employed similar concepts

Hospitals and other care givers: Naturally, the hospitals have jumped on the insurance band wagon. Their employees, along with suppliers of drugs and other goods and services have also ended up on-board. They are all able to make a better living because of the insurance arrangement than they would in a more competitive system where consumers pay for services themselves.

Insurance companies: Color this industry paradoxical. While it may seem like they are doing us a big favor as they pay our expensive medical bills, the truth is they are actually stealing even more money out of our purses. Their feigned attempts to control medical costs are nothing more than sophisticated distraction from the reality that the higher prices climb, the more they make. While insurance industry profit margins may be only 6%, would you imagine they would rather make 6% of two-million dollars or 6% of one-million dollars? So in the short term they may put on a dog and pony show about cutting costs, but in the bigger picture, quite the opposite is true.

Finally, consider this. The insurance companies have to take in more money than they pay out in claims, and all other expenses, or they could not stay in business. Therefore, we pay more for premiums than all of the actual costs of medical services combined. We would be better off financially without the insurance companies, even if prices stayed the same. But if there were no insurance companies then prices would drop because doctors, care givers, suppliers and all of the others would have to compete for the business.

Seniors: We all feel compassion for seniors and we want them to enjoy a dignified life style in their later years, but there is a dirty little secret. The seniors of today (65 and over) have been exploiting the kindness of others for years. They have lived through the most prosperous decades known to man kind but far too few of them prepared financially for their golden years. Regardless of their irresponsible behavior, they have played on the sympathy of the rest of us and managed to obtain generally comparable medical care to what we buy for ourselves. According to The Commonwealth Fund, Medicare was a fairly successful program in 2005 and the Obama Administration says they are committed to making it even better. The sentiment cannot be denied.

Since most seniors are retired, they have the time to write their Representatives and make demands. Those are not empty threats either, because a high percentage of seniors also vote. All of that could have been avoided if seniors had done a better job preparing for retirement, or if they relied upon their families or charities to help them, rather than the government. That way most of the waste would be cut out of their spending.

Illegal immigrants: It is no secret that millions of these people have come to this country just to have babies. Unsurprisingly, very few of them have the resources to pay their own medical expenses for child birth or anything else. Therefore, the services are provided and the expenses are passed along to the rest of us in the form of higher health insurance premiums. The problem is both widespread and local.California alone spends nine-billion dollars per year on this group and we all know where that has gotten them. We could explore the other financial implications of their visits, but that is a topic for another day.

Congress: Since most national politicians are more interested in getting reelected than they are in doing what is right, they keep stealing Other People’s Money in various ways and throwing it at the seniors’ medical needs, in exchange for their votes. Together these “entitlement” programs have cost us trillions of dollars.

Furthermore, the Congress lends little more than lip service to the illegal immigrant issues, which could be resolved in a responsible way without hurting anybody who is willing to take some responsibility. Even I can come up with a sensible way to address the matter. (More on this in a future article.) But in the mean time an irresponsible congress turns a blind eye to a problem the rest of us see so clearly.

The public: While we, the people, are the screwees in all of this, we are not without our share of the blame. For starters, we don’t have the backbone to stand up to any of the folks who are exploiting the system. Furthermore, many of us invade the doctor’s office at the first hint of a sore throat or a headache. We rationalize our behavior by telling ourselves that we might as well get some value out of all of those high insurance premiums we pay. Most members of group-plans are not exempt from this discussion (this too is for a future article.) As expected, the doctors don’t do anything to discourage us from visiting them for such minor issues. We rarely question the bill because it gets passed on to the insurance company, from whom any resistance is insincere for reasons previously mentioned.

When we take an overview like this, we can see that our health care system and the related insurance programs, both private and public, are fraught with dubious motives. There are so many people sticking their fingers in the “I care about you” pie, that we are flushing away valuable resources, which could provide these services in a much more cost-effective way: Namely the free enterprise system. But, since too few of us plan ahead, and newspapers love to exploit sad stories about those who are left out, soft-hearted do-gooders will always be willing to subsidize the irresponsible behavior with tax payer’s money.

To their credit, the Obama Administration has recognized these problems and they have embarked on a journey to do something about it. Good for them! The problem is they are doing the exact wrong thing. The last thing the bloated pig needs is more government waste. I might lend them the benefit of the doubt if they fixed the Social Security System, Medicare and Medicaid first. At least then they would have credibility. But only a moron would believe that we can insure another fifty-million people without cutting back on services and raising expenses on those of us who actually pay the bill.

What say you?

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Suggestion to Reduce Pap Smears and Mammograms Suspious

I have been asked by Pam, a Facebook buddy, what I think about the timing of the revised attitudes regarding breast exams and pap smears, and does it relate to the health care bill which is taking shape. Naturally, I don’t have any personal knowledge of those procedures, but I think we can use them as a symbol and discuss the broader issue: How is health care going to change?

To begin with, I am not an Obama fan. I occasionally agree with him about what constitutes a problem, but I rarely approve of his solutions. I think he is a caring man, but naïve. Many Americans and National Governments agree with me. He recognizes the plight of the downtrodden, but he seems oblivious to what makes an economy work. Billionaire Rupert Murdoch also agrees. Worse yet, he gets pushed around by the tag-team duo of Pelosi/Reid, who have done more to destroy the once-wonderful Democratic Party than any other democrats I can think of.

I tell you all of this political stuff so that you will not think of me as a homer when I say the new recommendations for the procedures mentioned seem on the right track to me.

My wife’s sister is a very seasoned intellectual-type midwife. Mary Ann has delivered thousands of babies and has been writing for text books and journals plus speaking at seminars for years. One of her studies, and pet peeves, has to do with all of the urine samples and tests that pregnant women undergo. She has been arguing that the information gleaned from such tests is available through the other tests they perform; therefore, gathering all of those urine samples is redundant. Many doctors are following her recommendations and cutting back.

I serve this up as another example of a test-crazed medical industry. It seems to me that doctors tend to fear getting sued, so they deflect responsibility from themselves by recommending, and even pushing, all sorts of tests. “Tis better to error on the safe side.”

I asked Mary Ann what she thinks about the suggestion to cut back on the two tests which Pam mentioned. Mary Ann said there was ample fact-based evidence supporting the suggestion to reduce the number of pap smears, but she was slightly dubious about the mammogram.She said she had not read enough to form an opinion but she did say that women in general do a lot better job of self-examines these days so cutting back on mammograms will probably also be prudent.

We all like to hear that our medical tests came back with positive results, but do we really give sufficient thought to all of the dynamics that went into obtaining the tests in the first place, or the consequences thereof? This, “test the bedickens out of everything” mentality we tend to embrace has to be running up our collective health costs unnecessarily, and I am all for cutting out some of the waste.

On a side topic, I am a devout capitalist, but I have to say that the insurance companies play an unseemly role in all of this. I think they love high prices. Every time there is a new expense they get to add on 10% for themselves. The more doctors who get sued the better; more tests mean more expenses and more expenses mean they can raise their premiums. After all, if you were an insurance company would you rather make a 10% profit on a million dollars or a 10% profit on two-million dollars? So as long as they can pass along the expenses to somebody, anybody, why would they want the medical industry to cut back on tests or anything else?

So all of this brings me to Pam’s question: Does the philosophical shift in the frequency of the tests that she mentioned coincide in any way with Obama’s health care program?

There is plenty of room for cutting back on unnecessary medical overhead, but I am woefully unqualified to know how often a woman should subject herself to the crunching, the exploring or the weekly pee-in-a-cup ritual of pregnancy. On the other hand, Mary Ann knows this stuff inside and out. I think I will take her word for it and conclude that the reports are legitimate, whether the timing is suspicious or not.

In the mean time, we can all “hope” (to use Obama’s term) that this is not the first sign of dangerous health care rationing.

Your ideas are wanted.

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Women Are Observant

Women are more observant than men. They “gather” information.

Perhaps it comes from having children and being in charge of so many things.

Or, they might just be more vain or self-conscious or they might be trying to avoid mistakes.

I don’t really know why they are that way, but believe me they are. Most of the people in this informal survey agree.

According to Blorge, 8% of us have blogs. Furthermore, more women than men visit Blogs to get information and more women actually have their own Blogs.

Their observant tendencies might explain why women give directions the way they do. They are not merely tuned into go left or turn right; they also pay attention to the landmarks like the picket fences and the color of buildings.

My wife can walk into most stores and quickly realize where most things are. It is much deeper than just reading the signs hanging from the ceiling. She just “senses” where things are kept. This is all a result of her paying close attention in all of the previous stores which she has visited.

On the other hand, I can go into a store that I have been in before and get lost. It is all because I am usually a destination shopper. When I go to a store I just want to get what I came for and get out. I just don’t bother to gather information for some theoretical next time that I might return.

I tried to think of circumstances in which men are more observant than women and the most obvious one was when they observe women, but the more I think about it, it seems to me that women probably also do a better job of paying attention to each other than the men do. Nicole and her readers tend to agree with me. Women notice when another woman streaks her hair or cuts it or if she wears a nice outfit or loses weight or gets a breast implant or wears a new outfit, but men don’t usually pay much attention to things like that.

Can you imagine one fellow saying to another, “Gosh, George, I really like your hair that way”?

I have been looking at my wife for 40 years. You would think that after all that time, I would notice any such changes but I usually don’t unless the changes are drastic. The truth is I am oblivious to the occasional things Patty does to doll herself up. I try to tell her that her natural beauty is so obvious that I just don’t care about the insignificant window dressing, but we both know that is just a pathetic attempt to win her favor.

I might as well just face the facts: women are more observant than men.

comments?

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Stuffed Animal Lifts Head & Yawns

Stuffed Animal Lifts Head, Yawns

If you think taking six months to buy a used dog is ridiculous, you haven’t met Gracie.

It has been 35 years since we acquired our first dog.Fred was a puppy; half St Bernard and half German Sheppard. Since we were Barely in our 20’s, we were naïve about nearly all adult issues, including how to properly care for pets. We could have done much better if we knew the Ten Commandments of Pets.

Fred befuddled us right from the beginning. When we went to work, we put her in the back yard for the day, but she hated that. When we got home we found clawing damage to the back door and several slats missing from our cedar fence. I bought replacement slats by the dozens. A neighbor told us that Fred began chewing on the fencing as soon as we left home. She was so powerful she could chew through a weak slat in ten minutes or so then she got another and another until she opened up a section big enough to squeeze through. Then she ran out to the front yard for a few minutes then she returned to the back yard through the same hole. Naturally, her habit was very hard on her teeth and gums.

When I discovered new damage, I tried to discipline Fred, not knowing that she was incapable of remembering that she had misbehaved 8 hours earlier. We tried everything we could think of, including putting Tobasco sauce on the slats and tying her to a tree instead, but she just barked all day. This went on for a couple of months.

Then the people at the local Dumb Friends League (Humane Society) said Fred was just lonely. They recommended we get a companion dog and let both canines stay in the house when we stepped out. I remember being very apprehensive about letting Fred stay indoors because she was so destructive, but we loved our dog and we were willing to try their recommendation.

We found a large but very gentle Newfoundland, who filled the bill perfectly. Check out these puppies. After that, we let the dogs stay indoors as suggested and found out they were both content. Fred proved to be a 70 pound lap dog and Sabbath was even bigger. They both lived with us for another 12 years.

If we knew then, what we know now, we would have considered finding a ‘”friend” for Fred, perhaps on Craig’s List. Another option might be Doggie Day Care,

After that, our kids dominated our lives and we started to travel so we never felt like we were in the right position to own another dog, until this year. In the late spring, we sold an out-of-state property so, that allowed us to expand the family again. There are some stories in the Archive section below about selling the property and some other articles about our early efforts to find a new-to-us dog.

After several months of investigating various breeds and checking out some of the local shelters (Pet Finders has several hundred thousand animals) we zeroed in on a range of possibilities. We visited a handful of rescue facilities and each trip tugged at our hearts. We met Maxum, Sebastian, Sarge and Teddy Bear among others. They all pleaded with Patty to scratch their bellies; but for reasons unknown, perhaps divine intervention, none of those worked out.

Then we met Gracie. In an ironic twist, there is a shelter in Golden that specializes in Golden Retrievers and Golden Labs. The oft sought combination is called Glabs. We contacted the shelter with a preference list and a couple days later Gracie rolled into town. She came from a shelter in Kansas and spent a couple nights at a foster home.

She took to us right away, which is no surprise because she likes everybody including kids, seniors, other pets and a couple toys. Gracie is about three years old, 65 pounds, very loving and EXTREMELY calm. In fact, she is so at easy that I have suggested she is just one notch above a stuffed animal.

To give you an idea how unusual she is, let me share how Gracie deals with some typical dog matters: Just to be clear, she was this way when we got her, so do not wrongly assume that somehow Patty and I are dog whisperers because we are not.

Now, meet Gracie.

1) When Gracie goes for a ride in the car she immediately lays down, without being told. She does not even try to look out the window.

2) When we gave her a bath, she willingly climbed into the tub herself, then she waited patiently while we scrubbed her down, and rinsed her off. No shivering, no trying to get out, no anxiety.

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3) When a knock comes to the door, she calmly walks over to it to see who came to visit. No Barking, no protecting, no hostility.

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4) When a stranger walks in the room, no growling, no jumping, no running around. She waits for them to offer a hand and then she wags her tail and says hello.

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5) When we eat, there is usually no begging. She calmly lies down nearby. She gets a small treat in her bowl when we are finished.

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6) Gracie is very good on a leash. Naturally, she likes to sniff things as we move along, but she is basically content to stay within a few feet, always on our right side. She is a tireless jogger.

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7) She has two shoe-sized stuffed animal pets of her own. She walks around with them gently cradled in her mouth. If you try to take them away, she lets you have them. She does not chew on them or tug on them. They are more like pacifiers than tennis balls.

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8) When on a walk and the neighbors’ dogs engage in the usual territorial barking, Gracie ignores them. No conflicts ensue. She is not interested in responding to them.

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9) If she gets off her leash, she sits down and waits for you to tell her what to do. So far she has not bolted or even shown any interest in running around.

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10) She has shown no interest in checking out the top of the counters. She could easily get stuff off of thAere if she wanted to, but she is either too dumb, too lazy or too well behaved to show any interest.

Some of the above would suggest that there is no “dog” in Gracie and that has an element of truth. We are playing tag with her and trying to liven her up a bit, but mostly she is peaceful and generally speaking passive dogs don’t change much so why fight it?.

Her name before we adopted her was Li Lo. Some people were saying Lee Low; others said Lie Low; but we changed it to something that is easier to remember and does not sound like answering the phone.

Our son is putting in a nice fence and a doggy door so she can enjoy the outdoors, but for another 10 days or so we have to take her on walks. That is yet another way she has enriched us. We need the exercise.

Nobody knows much about Gracie’s past, but we are guessing she was well treated because she is not afraid, just calm. She responds to whistles and she has a rather wild tail that she cannot always contain. She is happy to meet you and she wants you to know it.

There is no doubt Gracie is special in certain ways. It is odd that nobody has attempted to claim her because Gracie is not the kind of dog that most people would willingly surrender. She is just too loveable.

We have some great plans for Gracie. More on that at a later time.

whaddya think?

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Is He Really Talking About Peeing?

Peeing in a cup is an abnormal experience, especially for men.

When males have a “full tank” there is a lot of pressure in there and it is difficult to turn the faucet on and off at will. If you want some medical evidence go here. Trying to gracefully dispense a half-ounce of fluid from a pressure-packed human spigot into a shot glass-sized paper cup is comparable to asking a fireman to hook up his hose to the fire hydrant and dribble the precise amount of water onto your prize-winning tulips: You’re asking for a miracle.

Toilet seat splatter is nothing compared to the potential disaster of peeing for a physical. One time I really screwed it up. The sinister nurse gave me two test tubes and a tiny cup, to fill. What a challenge! She must have known that she did not provide a holder for the test tubes so they had to be capped and laid on their sides after each one was filled.

That does not seem particularly difficult until you realize that it takes at least four hands to perform the basic procedure: The first hand has to hold two pair of pants and a zipper or the entire work area can get messy; the second hand needs to attend the dispenser itself, which is no simple task in that situation; the third hand is for holding the test tubes; and the fourth hand is for putting the caps on the little containers after they are filled. As I took the collection of receptacles, I was disappointed to realize nobody was going to lend me a hand.

First, I tried to empty my reservoir a bit to relieve some of the pressure, but I didn’t want to run out of fluid so a confusing game of stop and start ensued. Drip, squirt, dibble, splash, squeeze! Then the real fun began.

The next thing to do was figure out which hand was going to do what. Since there were so many jobs to do, and only two hands to perform them all, there were several possibilities; but, none of them makes sense unless you happen to be a juggler. Eventually, a half-baked strategy was adopted. Then it was time to assume “the position.”

I stood there, nearly-straddling a porcelain God, in an attempt to prevent any overflow from flooding the floor and creating yet another embarrassing problem. I thought about magicians who tell us that the hand is faster than the eye, and I was hoping they are correct. I summoned all of the concentration I could generate and began the impractical mission.

Once the process was underway, it was nearly impossible to dispense the proper quantity of liquid into the shot glass-sized cup. If you release the pressure too suddenly, your cup might runneth over and produce a big mess. On the other hand, it is equally difficult for men to ooze on demand, unless they have a prostate problem, but that is a different matter.

I grabbed one of the test tubes and filled it completely; too completely. Just then I thought I heard giggling out in the hall. I wondered if I was the subject of one of those TV shows that takes pleasure in catching people off guard.

Somehow, I eventually accomplished the goal, but I “had to” wash my hands and clean off that first test tube. I examined my clothes, and all was well, so I handed the containers to the nurse. I wanted to wash my hands again. I wondered how often she washes hers.

I did learn one important lesson from all of this: The next time I have to perform this unseemly ritual, I will take a feminine approach and sit down.

Contrary to what you might think, I tell you all of this for a reason. Prior to today, I would have never guessed that I would have a weirder story about peeing than the one I just shared. But today my wife and I actually attended a joint-venture peeing party…with somebody else.

Our job was to observe our third partner while she was in the act and upon the predetermined signal we converged on our victim. I held her still and Patty made her pee…you guessed it in a cup.

You see we have just adopted a beautiful Golden Lab/Golden Retriever mix named Gracie. We took the 3-year old young lady to the vet to make certain that there are no heart worms or other hidden problems. The first thing the vet needed was a urine sample.

So there we were, the three of us: A golden dog on a very short leash, a fat old dude following her around the yard and the old dude’s favorite female…cup in hand, poised and ready. Our little exercise would have won the grand prize on America’s Funniest Home Video. Fortunately, we didn’t have to wait long. The unsuspecting canine assumed the position and Patty seized the opportunity.

A couple hours later all of the necessary samples were delivered to the vet and it appears a new phase in our lives has begun. More about Gracie to follow.

Comments?