190 Days to Go Until

     Some of my friends and I'm sure relatives call me strange.  I think I have a sense of humor but some of my jokes are only funny to me.  If only my friends could look into my mind, they would understand what goes on between my ears.  Actually, it might not be such a good idea to look into my mind.
     I think someone once said something about taking pleasures in the little things in life.  No, I don't know if someone actually said that but someone should have.  My wife and I have a different definition of a little pleasure.  We just spent over fourteen hundred dollars for a  clothes washer and dryer. I thought it necessary to say clothes washer because someone out there could think that we bought a dish washer.  Actually, we did buy a dish washer but for now I am talking about a clothes washer and clothes dryer. Not a dish washer and a dish dryer.
     Our clothes washer and dryer were in the basement when we bought the house.  We never replaced either in over 11 years.  The clothes dryer did require a belt replacement with a belt which cost thirty dollars and over one hundred and fifty dollars in labor.  In recent years the dryer has been taking longer to dry everything.
    So last week we went to Sears and looked at dryers and washers priced from reasonable to outlandish. Being  Garroways, we settled on the reasonable washer and dryer.  Paying several hundred dollars more for  an appliance painted in black does not  agree with me.  Of course, we had to pay more for a gas dryer. I had measured our old washer and dryer and knew what we could put in the basement.  But when we were standing next to our new appliances in the store, they all looked much smaller.  But having them in the basement now, they are not that much smaller.  The digital display  is easier to see and there are more selections for cleaning and drying the clothes.
     The front loading washer is so quiet that  I had to stand in front of it and watch it spin to make sure it was actually working. And I stood watching the washer drum spin and I smiled. The towels dried in less than 30 minutes and I smiled.
     Sometimes it is the little things(like a new washer and dryer which set us back over fourteen hundred big ones) that make me smile.  By the way, if you need to call me on Saturday mornings, I'll be doing the laundry because it gives me so much pleasure.
   

191 Days to Go

     I consider myself  fairly open minded.   Granted I have not been the best to accept new fangled things, like computers and telephone answering devices. That being said I have to draw the line when it comes to multitasking.  I am not very good at multitasking and I frown on anyone  who tries to do more than just drive their car, truck, bicycle, moped or roller skates.
     This morning while I was driving to work, I encountered two people who were more involved in texting  and eating than they were in driving.  I saw a woman eating something from a plastic cup with a plastic spoon as she drove with her elbows.  Her car was easing its way into my lane so I had to I give her more room.  As she passed me, a truck found me in another lane.  Perhaps this was not the day to drive to work, I thought.  The truck driver was texting but at least his hands were somewhere on the wheel.   He was looking down more than he was looking forward or to the sides and he was not, from where I sat, aware that he was getting quite close to pushing me into the next lane.  My concern was that there was no lane next to me, so I slowed my speed so he could text ahead of me.
    As I was hoping that this type of encounters were over, a car decided to turn right into my lane.  If  I  had not been right next to the car, he could have eased in and I would not be writing this blog. I had no way of seeing if he had put on his right turn signal.  Thinking about it now, I must have been in his blind spot.  I was the blind spot.  In order not  to become one with the car, I eased back on the gas. But then, another car cut in front of me,  followed by four more cars.  At least I had the last laugh as I saw the parking lot of cars  awaiting those cars which had just cut across my bow.
     Too many people are trying to do too many other things including driving when they should just be driving.  The list of behind the wheel activities is almost endless: reading a book or map, drinking coffee or sodas, texting, knitting, putting on eye liner, yelling at the kids in the back seat, using the laptop, eating a sandwich, putting on lipstick, cutting out coupons, and balancing a checkbook.
      Please just drive. Leave multitasking to your work place.  And I promise to reduce my  limited multitasking in my car.  Can you promise the same?

192 Days to Go

     In response to  my last blog I received several comments about peanut butter. Just to set the story straight, we eat the reduced fat peanut butter. I'm not 100 percent sure but I think that reducing the fat in any food has a tendency of lowering the taste.  And if the food is not as tasty, people like myself will not eat as much at one setting, however.  My theory is okay for peanut butter.  But when it comes to something like  a reduced fat triple chocolate cake with whipped double chocolate icing, I will have to reformulate  my theory.
     As my mother would say if she were still alive, there is always time for something chocolate.  She loved chocolate although  chocolate covered ants did make her wince a little.  I don't think I made this up because I do recall having them while I was growing up in Silver Spring, Maryland, and I was still living at home.  Chocolate could have been the original chicken soup.  Eating chocolate makes most anyone feel better. Researchers have recently discovered that chocolate could very well be another food group.
Want your blood to flow better, eat chocolate. There are traces of minerals which the body can only get from chocolate.  And if you need to lose weight, there is always the chocolate diet.
     But getting back to the idea of reducing fat in food.  When I was a meat eater, the fatter the meat was, the better it tasted.  Adding fat to almost anything will make it taste better.  I don't think that fat added energy drinks will be a big success!  Potatoes chips do not have the same taste without fat.  A triple deck hamburger with heaps of salad dressing and melted cheese with the special sauce always tastes better because it has lots  of fat.  Take away the fat and sales bottom out.  There are some coffee drinks which have a hint of coffee in them but do have more fat and calories than a human should get in a month!
     And you thought that sex was the big seller of products. Would car dealers sell more cars if instead of a cute looking woman in a nothing dress laying across the hood of a car, there was a sizzling 24 ounce steak on a metal plate slowing dripping fat onto the highly polished  finish of the eighty-thousand dollar car?
    All kidding aside, Americans eat too much fat in their diets.  We need to not only watch what we eat but realize that what goes in does deposit itself in our bodies.  Our stomachs and arteries seem to be the places that fat likes to hide in or on.
 
  
  

  

193 days to Go

    At the ripe young age of 59 years and some amount of months, weeks, days and minutes, I find myself trying to eat better. If I had been smarter, I would have been eating better for most of my life. I would have not eaten all the junk food when I was young and sodas when I was older.  I did change the way I ate  when I married my wife.  I was a meat eater and she remembers fondly, the days I would stink(as she recalls) up the kitchen with the wonderful smell of sauteed onions and liver. She tried to convince me of all the benefits of not eating meat and eventually I agreed that killing animals was not a good thing for the animals.  As I read more about how the animals were treated prior to their demise, I understood why people become vegetarians.  I won't go into any of the details of how they are killed but every time I see someone eat a hamburger, I think of  a mean person killing Bambi!
     When we go grocery shopping, I read the nutrition panels on the packages as well as my wife. Last week, some big name doctor who always seems to drop into the right daytime shows said that eating organic peanut butter was better than the PB which is packaged by one of the big name companies. This past Friday we bought some natural peanut butter that had only one ingredient: peanuts. Saturday morning we had toast and peanut butter for breakfast.  We each  had two slices of bread, one slice with a brand name and one with the real peanut butter.  The brand name peanut butter with sugar, corn syrup solids and traces of rapeseed and soybean oil and vitamins and minerals which were removed during the processing but returned  so the big companies could claim that the customer was still getting something slightly nutritious which tasted much better. 
     Organic peanut butter has got to be healthier for almost everyone except the Garroways.  The Garroways gave it a  chance but we have decided that plain old peanut butter with all the added additives is what we are going to eat.
     If I had eaten non doctored peanut butter from the beginning, I might actually tolerate it better. When organic peanut butter tastes as good as mass produced peanut butter, I'll change but until that time, I will just eat my plain old peanut butter right out of the jar.
     I'll just have to eat better with all the other food groups.
    

194 Days to Go

     The hair on the top of my  head may have receded but the hair on my chest has not.  Yesterday as I sat in the cardiologist's office, I told the technician that she probably needed to shave the spots on my chest for the leads as I was being hooked up for a 24 hour harlter monitor. First she cleaned the area with an alcohol soaked 4 x 4 gauze pad as tough as if  she was trying to remove the tarnish from the silver dinnerware.  Then she took the protective wrapping off the disposable razor and removed a two inch line of hair from right to left.  She made sure that the industrial strength adhesive leads were placed properly on my chest.
     Note: I have had these same leads placed over my chest without the area being shaved and I can say without any hesitation that I don't know how women can stand having their hair from the legs  ripped off. When these leads have been removed, I  have felt like my skin was being removed from my body. These leads do not fall off in the shower as I was lead to believe by several nurses. They must be ripped from the body by someone who is being paid well to do the task.  Ripping leads from a hairy chest is not for the faint of heart!
     As I drove home with the super, never to be removed, commercial strength adhesive leads connected to my own little waist recording unit, I thought that if I have this procedure done again, I will request that I stand while the leads are attached.  Having the patient sit might be easier for the technician but when the leads are attached to the skin in a relaxed position,  some hairs do find their way to the contact cement leads.  So as I turned the wheel or adjusted myself in the drivers seat, some of my chest hairs were ripped from their roots.
     I have not done any surveys with other men about the strength of their body hair  but I can say from my own experience, that my chest hair is pretty strong.  The hair roots go down pretty far and they don't like being pulled out.  I don't like them being pulled out either.
     When I was growing up, we were a member of a community pool.  There was always one guy who had a lot of body hair.  My friends and I said that we did not want to have that much hair when we got older.  We thought that by saying we did  not want the hair, the hair gods would listen.   My hair god did not listen!
      At 3:15 PM today, the cardiac technician will take back her  monitor and the wire leads. The technician said the never to be removed, glued for life heart leads which have welded themselves to my skin will come off in the shower.
        Tonight if you hear what sounds like a plane breaking the sound barrier, don't worry. It's only me having the "they will fall off in the shower" leads being ripped from my body while two hairs fight for survival!

195 Days to go

     When I was in my twenties, which seems so long ago, I weighted over 250 pounds and sported an afro.  Yes, Art had an afro.  I also had hair, lots of hair on my head.  At that time, I was renting an apartment with a guy because I was not making enough money on my own.  He had an afro and said I would look in one as well. So, I went to a beauty salon and said, 'I want an afro.'
      I walked into the beauty salon and spent several hours moving from one chair to another as my hair was washed, treated, permed, put in curlers, treated and then cooked under the hair dryer.  I have seen pictures of women having conversation between themselves as they sit under the hair dryers. I had a hard time thinking to myself much less trying to talk with anyone while a jet plane roared over my hair.  At one point, it felt as though I was my head was in a broiler. That was about the time I wanted to leave and chuck the whole idea.  I just remembered the odor of the perm chemicals which were cooking on my hair.  That smell is a smell all of its own.
     The only other smell almost as irritating is that of Ringers Lactate.   I was introduced to Ringers at Bethesda Naval Hospital when  I had a summer job. Ringers is used as a fluid and electrolyte replenisher for persons suffering from a lot of blood loss due to trauma, surgery, or a burn injury.  Back then, the Naval Hospital  used glass bottles instead of plastic pouches which are used now  for the IV solutions. A patient knocked over an IV stand with a bottle of Ringers hanging from it.  I got to mop up the mess as the odor filled the floor.
      After spending a long afternoon in the beauty salon, I walked out with an afro. My afro was a mini afro because although I had hair, I did not have that much hair.  And a lot of hair results in a bigger afro.  I had a baby afro.  But it was my afro and I was assured by the hair stylist  that as my hair grew out, my afro would get bigger.  And when there was barely any afro left, I went back to the beauty salon, sat under the jet engine as the chemicals in my hair and on my head, made my hair, now full of curlers, cook until I had a bigger afro.
     And I walked out proud that I no longer had a baby afro but the real McCoy.  I had a real afro with a full head of hair.
     The days of a full head of hair are gone.  Now I have some hair growing where once I had a pasture of hair.  In order to save some money about three years ago I decided to cut my own hair. I was going to the barber shop every six weeks and spending twenty dollars to have my lack of hair trimmed.. I was in and out of the barber chair  in less than fifteen minutes. I told my wife that I could do my own hair.  Cutting my own hair is not quite as bad as performing my own open heart surgery on myself while looking in the mirror.  I just wish the mirror was not showing me everything in reverse. I have trouble seeing behind my head and usually end up missing a forest of trees on my neck.  I pass my hand over my head and my neck and my hand says everything is okay.  What did I ever do to my hand to get this kind of mis-information?
     I usually ask my wife to check out my hair cutting job.  This is about the time she says there are a couple of places I missed.  I ask my hand, How can this be? My hand does not reply. So I place my hand with the hair trimmer in a position only a pretzel would know and attempt to remove the missed hair. Sometimes I have my wife use the trimer on my hair if I can't get to the right spot.  Some weeks I have no trouble bending my wrist into unnatural positions and other weeks, my wrist and mind won't work together.
    Now that I don't have hair growing on my head anymore, why do I have hair growing from places that hair should not be?
 

196 days to Go

    I'm going to ask you a question.  It is a very simple one and does not require a lot of thinking.  Here it is: Do I look stupid?  Now before you answer the question, I want you to think about what you are going to say because my question does not only concern me but you as well. And since I am writing this blog about my growing older and you are getting older or have reached and passed your sixth birthday, then my question concerns you as well.
      Now that you have your answer, think about it.  When our elected officials vote into law a bill that has so many add-ons for special interest groups, why do the elected think that we won't notice?  As I have gotten older, I have questioned more and accepted less.
     Our town is facing off with a new builder.  The developer is saying that by leveling apartments which have been standing for over fifty years and building newer multi-use buildings, their company is going to revitalize our area.  Closer to this new project is another development which still has vacant store fronts for all the promises it made to the communities.
      The new developer wants to build several towers of rental properties reaching toward the clouds.  One of the towers is going to be thirty- three stories tall.  I'm not stupid but the tallest fire department ladder truck can only reach to the eighth floor.  Unless the developer has installed an outstanding fire suppression system from the ground floor to the roof of the tower, things could get pretty darn hot for the residents if a fire erupts.
     Our county executive will probably rubber stamp the project, all in the name of employment and taxes.  The county executive has tried to push other projects down the taxpayers throats. There was the idea to build a new stadium for a hockey team but enough council members and taxpayers saw through the project and common sense prevailed.  But given the lack of money all across the region, I think the county executive and council are going to push the approval button for the new housing.
      The current residents will be given 60 days to vacate their homes and then the bulldozers will destroy the apartments.  Construction debris always wind up in the creek which runs through our town.  The creek will become polluted but the construction engineers will say that they have nothing to do with the pollution. The last time there was construction, the water turned from oily to white to somewhat clear.
     When the construction is completed, there will be a grand ceremony thanking the local communities for all their support. Elected officials will stand and say how they helped to push the project through the system. They will also say that without their push, hundreds of people would not have been employed for the last twenty four months.
    And some of the store fronts will become occupied, while the others will gather dust. And the rental properties will fill but there will not be enough parking spaces in the buildings because someone did not figure that the residents would want a car to go shopping in another county that had a much better selection of stores. And the excess cars will find their way to the neighbor streets. And the roads which currently can not handle the flow and volume of current traffic will become clogged.
     And if a fire does break out on the thirtieth floor, the sprinkler systems will work or not. And the fire department will be blamed for not having a ladder which could reach over three hundred feet into the air without collapsing from the weight. And someone is going to lose their life.
     I'm not stupid.  Sometimes I do stupid things such as not listening to my wife when she is telling me to listen to her.  But when I hear of a company trying to force feed a project down the taxpayers throats, all in the name of new jobs and taxes, I have to ask, Where is the safety factor?  Who do we talk to about the added pollution and traffic burdens after the project is completed?
       Is it stupid of me to think that my elected officials have no common sense?
     
   

197 Days to Go

     When I was taking driver's education in high school, my teacher said the only thing that should be on the steering wheel should be my hands. He made it clear that both hands needed to be on the wheel. He added that cars in Germany did not have cup holders because driving was a full time job. Holding a cup of hot coffee while steering a car traveling a hundred miles an hour was not a way to grow old. A lot can happen at high speeds.
      Cars changing lanes, stopping or slowing down occurs at all speeds. I would guess my driver ed. teacher has retired but he would probably say that using a cell phone or other handheld device while driving is a death wish. It's too bad that more new drivers did not have a teacher like mine.
     I get crazy when I see someone driving while doing their nails, sipping from a cup and talking on their electronic device. What's even worse than that is when I see a woman doing her nails, then her eyes, brushing her hair, sipping from a cup, yelling at her kids and texting. She is not doing everything at once but does all everything in the span of several minutes. Somewhere in there, she was driving me crazy and oh, also driving her SUV.
     So why am I saying this? Because as I have gotten older, drivers and their habits have gotten worse. I wonder when someone is going to use some common sense and just say no to any kind of electronic device which requires the driver to take his or her hands off the steering wheel. And the hands free electronic anything ban is going to be put into law and that law is going to stand up in every courtroom in every state.
     Until real laws are passed and the police enforce those laws, drivers are going to continue to drive as though they have a death wish and many of them will have their wish come true.


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198 Days To Go

      I have a gripe. Actually I have several gripes but tonight I will focus on just one.  Who was the rocket scientist who designed the pull tabs on creamers?  When I was younger I could grip the little foil tab and nicely lift the seal off the artificial cream.  Now as I have gotten older, that little tab seems smaller and no amount of yelling at the tab will give me enough surface area to rip the seal off!
     I'm sure I am not the only one who has problems with these tabs.
     I can see having the child-proof caps on medicine but I have not been a child for some time.  Does anyone care that when I have a headache, I want to get those little tablets out of the bottle as quickly as possible?  I must admit that the mail order pharmacy has finally gotten it right and gives us screw caps for all our medicines.
    My wife and I would probably starve if it was not for the jar handles which allow us to twist the caps off the glass jars with the green mold growing in them. Actually the green mold comes after I put the jar deep into the refrigerator and forget that it is there. My wife keeps telling me to remember that the jar is in there somewhere and I keep telling her I will remember but seldom do.
     Jars holding olives packed in water in a glass jars have some of the worse caps to remove.  There is always a warning on the top that says if the little dimple looks like a hill, then the cap has been loosened and the company can not be held liable.  Not once have I seen a jar of olives with a cap that has lost its vacuum. When I get the jar home from the grocery store,  I give it the old Garroway try  to remove the cap.  I place the cap against my palm and wrap my fingers around the cap.  Then I give it a twist. Nothing.  I give it another twist and still nothing. My palm is now red and my fingers are white.  Then I bring out the big guns and place the handy dandy jar grip with the rubberized  surface over the cap.  Holding the jar in a death grip I turn the handle.  Nothing.  I try to turn the cap the other way.  Nothing again.  I look at the cap and see the arrows pointing in opposite directions.  Tighten this way and loosen that way.
    Perhaps I need to break the vacuum seal on the cap I think to myself. Dropping the jar to the floor would be a possibility but cleaning up glass, water and olives is not an attraction.  I take a knife and turn it around so that I can hammer the edge of the cap.  A couple of quick taps and I try twisting the cap.  Still nothing.  A couple more taps on the other side of the cap and nothing.   I look at the jar of olives and wonder if I really need olives on the salad tonight.
     My wife asks how I'm doing.  I hold up the olive jar with the vacuum sealed cap that will not come off unless I use a charge of C4 and shake my head.  She takes the jar in one hand and the nifty rubberized cap enabler and does one quick twist and the cap comes off in her hand.
   

199 days to go

     Whatever happened to the good old days?  I grew up in the fifties. Everything was less complicated back then. There were fewer cars and a lot less television stations. We had checking and a savings account. And if we wanted to withdraw money, we would write a check or go to the bank in person.  And the banks were small enough so the tellers would know your name and would not be separated by three inches of Plexiglas!
     The good old days have been replaced by passwords.  It has almost gotten to the point  that I need some kind of  password to do anything electronic.  Before I log onto my computer at work, I have to use a password.  Then there is another password for each of the applications I use.  Some of the applications have begun informing me that I need to change my password every couple of months.  The programs say I can't use the same password I have used in the past.
    Some other programs have begun telling me that I need to have at least one if not more numbers, letters, both with and without caps with a sprinkling of  dollar, pound, question and quotation marks. I do have some rather convoluted passwords for important accounts and programs.  If anyone is going to try and hack into my bank account, I want them to be as frustrated as I am when I am entering a 27 character password that I hope is correct!
     But as I have gotten older, the old passwords which I once used are coming back to haunt me.  Most everything on the web requires some sort of log in and password.  In olden times, if I wanted a magazine subscription, I would mail a check to the company and then would forget that I had sent  in the money.  Then after weeks had passed, I would begin to get magazine issues and I would have to think long and hard as to why I had even wasted my  money.  
     Now, I can order most anything on line but in order to do it their way, I must have some kind of log-in word and password.  Sometimes the site asks me to make up a password before I enter all my vital information. So I pull a password out of the air which I could remember if I were thirty years younger, write it down on a post-it note and enter the word on the secure website.  Then I hit enter and the screen pauses and says that the password and log in have already been used. And I look at the screen and say, "How can that be?"
     The screen does not answer me but suggests that I try another name and password.  So I enter another name and password, this time longer than before and the system says that name and password are already in use. Since this is the first time I have ever been to this site, I scratch my head and wonder who out there is walking around with the same name and password that I just entered.  As I enter yet another user name, the site system asks if I would like a suggestion and  I say 'Why not?'  So the system which is far smarter than me, selects a name and a password I can live with.  And this time I copy down both words so I will have this information when I log on in a week to see where my subscription is.  And I enter the computer generated user name and password and the system says okay.  Now that I have a user name and password,  I begin to enter the ship and bill to information. That done, I enter credit card information and the system thanks me for being patient. And it says I am almost done.  I then try to read some lawyer written disclaimer which says the company has the greatest security system since Fort Knox and that my information is safe with them. And that they value my business and blah, blah, blah and oh, by the way, there is just one more thing I need to do before my subscription is entered into their system.  I need to answer some questions so that if I forget my login phrase and or password, they can make sure I am who I say I am.
     I answer the questions and then do a screen save of my questions and answers and save the file.  One more time to look at all my answers and I hit the enter key. There I have done it. Then  I have a thought,  Did I enter the correct alternative email address?   I go to the current subscriber log in site and enter my name and password.  Sorry, you have entered incorrect information.  I enter everything again, this time slower.  Still nothing.  I even hit the drop down link that says it will send me the questions to answer.
     "There is no such password or user id listed in our system.  Would you like our system to help you select a new password?"
      Guess what my answer was?
   
   
 

200 days to go

     Everyone has experienced impatient people. The people who run stop signs because they are yelling at their kids or talking on their cell phones make me crazy.  In our town, there are a number of four way stops.  I can count on one hand the number of cars that have come to a complete stop at any given intersection! And the people who run the stop signs or do a slow down but no stop, are not just older people. College kids are just so busy these days, that stopping is not a priority for them. We have our fair share of people cutting through town to avoid the major stop light bottle necks and in doing so, making our little town, their short cut!
    And what do these people gain by not stopping?  If a cop is nearby, the law breaker might get a ticket. If not,  the stop sign runner has shaved off a few extra seconds off their commute. In addition to the non stopping cars, there are the drivers who set their own speed limit so they can be somewhere a little faster.
    I would be amiss if I left out the drivers of scooters. I have observed the drivers, typically college students driving their scooters in what I would call a reckless manner, running stop signs, riding on the sidewalks to avoid going through an intersection, driving without eye protection. Teenagers become college students and some never outgrow the idea that they know better how to do something.   They know all and can do anything. And they think they will live forever.  (Hint, no-one lives forever unless you are the IRS.)   Unfortunately, teenagers and college students can get hurt or worse if they continue to behave in an impatient manner.  It takes just one time for a scooter driver not to see the other car or truck that is running  the same stop sign.
     These same students can get hurt just as easily by texting while walking across the street between two corners.  They used to call this jay walking.  Now it is called, cutting corners! Why walk to the crosswalk when you can shave a few minutes off, by just crossing where ever you want? These students might say that their time is valuable and why should they wait.  I would like to tell them that waiting to cross at a crosswalk or a light just might save their lives. I would love to add that being impatient might just get them dead.
      But what do I know? I'm just a guy who is not impatient to get older.   And I have no reason to be impatient about dying.
    
    
    
    
      

    
     
   

201 Days to go

     Men are stubborn.
     When I was very young, I always had some sort of breathing problems. I went through allergy shots which were supposed to do something positive for me but all I got were really bad sneezing and coughing spells.  My doctors said I was getting better.  I thought I was not. 
     As I grew older, my allergies did not vanish.  Some seasons I watched as the Kleenex stock went through the roof as I used boxes of Kleenex.  I was probably the only one in school to carry his own box of tissues. Sneezing was beginning to become my pastime during the "Season."
     Fast forward to three years ago.  I was being hospitalized on a regular basis for breathing problems.  Several times my lack of breathing got so bad, that I had to call for a Medic unit.  I would be wheezing all the way to the hospital even with the drugs the medics gave me.  In the hospital I would get more medicines until I was breathing normally.  But with all the drugs, I felt like I had just had a dozen cups of coffee.
     I was being seen by a lung doctor who kept giving me more and more drugs because nothing seemed to work. A couple of times, when I called him to say I could not breath, he said I needed to go to the E.R because he was doing everything he could and there were not more drugs he could prescribe.
     My wife made me promise that I would fire my lung doctor and find another. I listened but I was stubborn. I kept with the lung doctor for a while longer.   During my last hospital stay, my wife started to question the doctors and what they were giving me. Doctors don't like to be questioned about what they are doing especially when they know they are right.  I was wheezing and the doctors kept filling me full of drugs.  I told them the medicines were not working, so they gave me more.  And my wife kept saying to the doctors that the medicines were not working. And my lung doctor who I had been seeing for years kept saying to me that there was nothing else he could do for me and the hospital was the best place for me.
      My wife laid down the law.  I was to fire my lung doctor and latch up with someone else.  My current lung doctor found me in the ER during one of my visits.
     He listened as I told him that my medicines were not working.  He gave me some tests.
     Then he said something that almost knocked me over.
     "Art, I don't think you have ever had asthma."
     He told me that he thought I had something called Vocal Cord dysfunction which mimics the symptoms of asthma. And he suggested that what I needed to do was rinse out my nose with a saline wash at least once a day.  Now when I begin to wheeze or cough, I do the nose thing.  By the way, I don't have a need for my emergency inhaler or the other three lung medicines I was taking. All I do is my nose and perhaps two puffs of a prescription nose spray which reduces stuff from dripping down my throat and landing on my vocal cords.
     If I had listened to my lovely wife sooner,  I would not have been hospitalized so often.

     

 

202 days to go

     I have no patience for computer programs which take what seems like forever to load.  My patience is zilch when I have ideas trying to burst out of my head and I have no way of putting them to paper(computer). My computer always seems to know when I need to be writing because it decides to launch some program which is checking  another program for mistakes.  Then of course, there is the anti-virus program which is supposed to run in the background, protecting me against bad programs which will make my computer run slower than it already does. Slow computers are similar to bad customer service.  We want fast computers and expect better customer service but we think we are paying too much for both.
     On day 204, I wrote about patience or the lack of. When I told my wife about this blog, she said that perhaps I was not writing of patience but being intolerant of a lack of customer service.
      Everyone has experienced bad customer service: grocery stores with long check out lines with only three cashiers, doctors who were late for an appointment or getting something done at the mechanic and when you got the car home, you still had the same problem but you were five hundred dollars leaner!
     There are some things we can't change.  County governments are getting less money and the taxpayers are getting less service.  Not paying taxes might save you money for a little while.  But hungry governments always seem to find who has been bad.  But we can question our local governments and ask where our tax dollars are going.  And if something does not sound right, then ask your government officials to explain. And keep pressing until they tell you.  Somehow the ones we elect into office forget who voted them in and why.  "Did I promise that?  I don't recall saying that."
     You can frequent stores which give you better customer service.  It may mean you have to drive a little further but your blood pressure will thank you. For the stores that will not serve you the way you want, complain to the manager or if the company is larger, work your way up the flagpole. Someone will listen or if you really want to still deal with the store, you could complain to an on-line site. Bad press is not wanted by any store which wants to stay in business.
      Please dear readers, tell me if getting older has made you more or less patient.  Has the customer service gotten better or worse or is it just because you have gotten older? Have you ever gotten mad as hell and said you would not take it anymore? What did you do to get "IT" right?
 

203 Days until

     Change is something I find in my pockets or on the street.  At the end of the day, I empty my pockets of change or I find change in the bottom of the washer after I have washed it. Am I guilty of money laundering?
      I don't do well with change. Let me clarify that statement.  Money in the way of change is a good thing. Change in the way something is done such as a procedure is a bad thing.  I don't like to change the way I do things.  I would say that most people don't like change. I'm not saying that doing something faster is not better but why do we have to change what has been done for so many years?
     Numerous drink companies have changed their drink formulas, only to find that the buying public liked the drink just fine before the change.  All that money spent in test groups, development and improvements went down the drain. I can now drink water which has either been siphoned from a spring or pulled from the tap and filtered twenty seven times through dirty sweat socks. Water is not just water anymore. There is flavored, enriched, vitamin added and weight reducing water.
     I can drink energy drinks which leave my tongue blue, red, orange, black or numb. I can order a super-size meal which has more fat, sodium and calories than I would need in a week. Cars can go zero to supersonic in less time than it takes me to sip that boiling hot cup of flavored coffee which is about to spill into my lap because I am trying to drive, drink and change the radio to a different station.
     New drugs which cost lots of money a pill keep me alive longer.  Of course having a very good insurance plan helps me not have to pay the high price on the drugs. Better procedures for doing operations mean more money for the surgeons who are already getting  too much money. The better procedures mean the insurance companies don't have to pay for me to stay in the hospital  longer.  And the patient actually does benefit from having a shortened hospital stay.
     Since I work with computers at work, I hate that the computer companies deem it necessary to change their operating systems all the time.  Just when I have not learned an operating system, the companies decide that they need to change it.  Then I have to not forget how to use the system I never did understand and relearn on the new system which works a bit better than the old but still gives me grief.
     And if I do have a question about their system, I get some non English speaking technician named Bob who asks me what I did just before the screen went black. And then I spend twenty minutes to four weeks on the phone while Bob tells me to hold on while he checks on the problem.  When I have grown older, he gets back on the line and says his manager has never heard of  "this happening" and if this happens again, I should make a copy of the screen and all the key strokes I did leading up to the problem.
     And then Bob's manager gets on the line and thanks me in proper English for having called and that he values my business. Everyone values my business. Is anyone making my life easier?
      I think I will stick with the change I find on the curb.
     
     
     

204 days to Go

     I have no patience for people or things wasting my time. I would have thought that with age, I would be more tolerant but no, that is not the case. I don't want to wait while a web page unfolds with countless graphics while I try to decide why I was actually there in the first place. And to the individuals who design the pages, give me an option to cut out the slow building graphics.  There are plenty of other web sites I can switch to, to get less frustrated.  Graphics  might be nice to show how something works but don't  hog the screen with them.
     Several years back, I opened a bank account because the bank was close to where I  worked.  I thought, that since the bank building was small and never seemed terribly busy, I could do my transactions quickly and still have time to down a quick lunch.  For several months I had no problems until the bank changed management.  I would patiently stand in line while the two tellers talked with each other while they helped the other patrons.
     When I got to the window, my teller barely said  'Hello' and began to talk with the other teller, while she counted out my money.  If the other teller was at lunch or a break, the remaining teller would be on the phone to her boyfriend or girlfriend.  I was not considered important enough.
     When I had had enough of the 'Customer Service' the bank claimed I was getting in every personal transaction, I closed my account.  The manager of the bank did not care that I was leaving even after she asked me to explain why I was closing my account.
     I am pretty patient with cashiers who are just starting out but the patience stops when I am not the center of their attention while I stand in front of them.  Answering their cell phones or yelling across the store to a friend who has just come through the door, is totally not acceptable.
     I have complained in nice restaurants to the managers and if the manager has seemed luke warm to my complaints, I have gone up the corporate  ladder.  Usually my wife asks that I wait for her to leave the building before I file my complaint.  Sometimes I have found it necessary to speak with someone who seems to care during the dinner.  For the most part restaurant managers are more understanding and willing to bend over backwards for the customer than most any other manager.  There is one restaurant in town that my wife and I both like to go for special occasions. Unfortunately we have not always had a memorable dining experience. But the managers and district manager have usually compensated us very nicely. The district manager gave me his cell phone number and said that the next time we were dining at his place, I was to call him before we arrived and he would take care of us. Now, that's customer service!
     When I make an appointment for a doctor two months in advance, I don't think it is too much to ask that the doctor be there on time.  I understand that there are emergencies and doctors are called away. But how about some understanding doc!  I just drove 30 minutes to be told that you were called away again and would I mind if the receptionist rescheduled me?  So now I have to get another appointment and come back and wait. And lord help me if I am late because some doctors slap a late fee on you for being 10 minutes late. It's okay for the doctor to be two hours late but it's not okay for the patient to be late.
     Getting older has made me a less patient  patient.

205 Days to Go

     It is another work day.  I'm still in bed, trying to look at the clock without disturbing the dogs.  But they know my eyes are open. My younger dog, Trey puts his face in mine and gives me a French kiss.  Then my other dog, Scout jumps onto my stomach.  I try to quietly get out of bed without disturbing my wife but there is a creak in the bed frame which only appears when I quietly try to get out of bed.
     As I open the front door for the boys, I tell Trey, not to bark.  He runs out of the house, barking. Kids just don't listen to their parents anymore. He continues to bark, warning the neighborhood and anyone who might venture anywhere within five miles of our house, that Trey, the sixteen pound Yorkie is the Boss.
     When I was growing up in the fifties and sixties, my parents were the bosses.  My teachers were the bosses and if I was at a friends house, their parents were the bosses.  They told us once or maybe twice what we could and could not do. We might not have liked hearing them lay down the laws but we respected them.  
     Some parents were harsher than other in doling out  punishment to their children.  "Wait until your father comes home," would would make some kids immediately begin to cry.  The kids knew what dad did to them.  Today, the parent's behavior would be labeled child abuse.  Back then, they called it 'discipline.'
     Regardless of the label, when I was growing up there was more discipline.  There was some talking back but not like there is now.  In my neighborhood, we listened and understood that our parents were the Bosses.
     I did some really stupid things when I was growing up.  I won't bore you with the facts because I just can't remember them.  But I know that my father and mother were not pleased. They never hit me but they would do mind games that all parents do.  And it worked on me.
     "I think your allowance needs to be suspended for a while."
     "No TV for you for a week."
     "No, you can't go out and play with any of your friends.  You have to write that report because it is due tomorrow.  What were you thinking?  Did you think you could write a five page report in ten minutes?"
     Respect is something which is learned at home.  On any given day, there are of stories about kids beating up their teachers because the teacher would not allow them to do something they wanted. And those kids keep doing their bad behavior because the schools are afraid of law suits.  And if the kids become too disruptive, they are expelled.  Schools are meant for education, not discipline and respect!
     What do todays children know about  respect or discipline?
     

206 Days to Go

       A lot has happened medically since I was born.  Doctors now replace body parts like a mechanic replaces a carburetor.  Are your arteries clogged with plague from eating all the wrong foods? Doctors can roto rooter  out your arteries and if needed dilate your arteries with a little metal tube.  Need a valve replaced, that can be done as well.   Is your heart running a little slow or sometimes forgets and skips several beats, then there is medicine which costs as much as a kings ransom or a pacemaker to correct the problem.  And if you are lucky  enough to be on the right list at the right time, you might just get a heart from a person much younger than you.
     My father died of a heart attack at my cousin's Bar Mitzvah party.  Although there were several doctors at the party, he could not be saved.  He loved to eat and did not do much in the way of exercise.  I really wished he had taken better care of himself.  After he died, mom said his doctors had told him that his next heart attack would be his last.  This was not his first heart attack.  He had been warned, yet he chose to continue to travel his path of self destruction.
     Even if he had eaten better and exercised, he still might not be alive today because medical advances were just not in place when he was alive! I have the same genes as my parents and because of that, I am prone to heart disease.  I have several stents leading up to my heart and take medicines to control my blood pressure and cholesterol.  And I exercise and watch what I eat, yet I still have health problems.  I don't eat red meat. On special occasions I will indulge in something caloric but the rest of the time I am a good boy.
      If patients are lucky enough to have the money and insurance, there are drugs for most any illness.  Feeling depressed because you have a phobia about driving on I-95 where big trucks are out to kill you?  There are drugs that can help you deal with your depressions and phobias. Each year, more drugs are introduced which prolong  the quality of life and we are  kept alive longer because of these drugs. Generic drugs do the same as the more expensive brands. And they cost less.  Does the doctor writing the prescription really know how much the drug is costing the patient?  If doctors had a better feel for the cost of medicine they might have more patients who actually trust them to do the right thing. I don't want a doctor to prescribe me a new drug (which is not be covered by my insurance plan) because the pharmaceutical company is giving the doctor an all expensive paid trip to the Arctic! Maybe the drug is the end all drug but money should not be the incentive! Drug companies spend zillions of dollars(not really but it seems like it) on advertising their drugs to the public and the doctors.
     Patients see an ad, read the symptoms and think that the new drug will be the magic pill for them.  The TV announcer makes it sound like this drug will cure anything from acid indigestion to impotence. As the ad draws to a close, the announcer lists many of the important side effects such as: death, stroke, heart attack, upset stomach,  paralysis and an erection which lasts longer than four hours.. Of course the announcer says to speak with your doctor about the risks associated with this miracle drug.
     When all is said and done, a lot has happened medically since I was born.
     But it still is the Practice of Medicine which keeps us well.
     When do the doctors stop practicing on us and actually make us better?

207 days to go

     Some years back, I had a wild idea that I should run for office. I wanted to make a difference.  Our town needed a council member and I thought I was the man for job.  I got the needed signatures to qualify and then walked door to door, trying to convince my neighbors to vote for me.  I talked up a storm with neighbors I had only seen in passing.  Some people agreed with what I stood for and others did not. And many promised me they were going to vote for me.
      After the election was over I was told that there was a bigger than usual turnout for the election. And that more people came out to vote for this election than any other election in the last ten years. I was running against someone who had history with the community and he had lived in University Park many years more than I had.  When all was said and done, I had lost, miserably. And they had not voted for me.  But I did receive around 35 votes. The winner got several hundred.
     But still in my little way, I had made a difference.  I got more people out of their houses to vote for my opponent.  If I had not been running, he would have won by default.
     I sometimes have thoughts now that I have not made a big enough difference. But then I think of what I have done and I change my mind.  When I was younger,  I was a Red Cross Volunteer.  I volunteered so much  I was given an award from Governor Agnew for being one of a few outstanding volunteers in Montgomery County.  Many years later,  I volunteered with a fire department in Montgomery County. I volunteered on weeknights and the weekends.
     One day, two parents arrived at the station with a police escort and their child covered in blood soaked sheets. As we loaded the child into the ambulance, my EMT said, "Art, make this ambulance fly!"
     I was the ambulance driver that day. I was happy it was a Sunday because there were not many people on the road.  As soon as I got us to the main drag, I punched the gas pedal and did not let up until we were approaching the exit.  I may have taken the exit at a bit higher speed than recommended for an emergency vehicle but I was in control all the way to the hospital.  When I pulled up to the Emergency Room door, the E.R staff was waiting and had pulled the kid and the stretcher out of the back before I had turned off the ignition.
     As my EMT and I were changing the sheets on the stretcher, the doctor in blood splattered scrubs came out and said, "You guys saved this kid's life. Good work!"
     Needless to say, I was on cloud nine for the rest of the day and several days afterwards because I had made a difference and saved a life.
     I have worked at Penn Camera for over 24 years as an inside salesman. My customers call me because they know that I will find them solutions to their problems. When faced with finding a solution for my customers, I do not give up easily.  I look at their problems and  if I can, I find them several solutions. If I was a customer looking for something, I would want a salesman to treat me the way I treat my customers.  I don't try to force something down my customer's throats, the way other companies do. I would go hungry as a commission salesman.
     Looking back at what I have done, I can honestly say, I have made a difference.


 

208 Days to Go

     When I was younger, the years appeared to crawl by. It took forever for July Fourth to arrive. And when it did, we would light sparklers and write our names in the dark.  Then I would have my birthday and would always receive a check from my Aunt Florence.  Of course, I would get toys and clothes.  How many sweaters can one kid wear?  After my birthday, there would be a lull until the cold set in.  And the first snow brought us all out to show off our hand-me down sleds and inner tubes. Back then, we had to pump up the inner tubes with a non-battery or electric powered air pump.  For those of you who are too young to remember the bicycle hand air pump, you would put your foot on a metal flap on the side of the pump on the ground and then lift and push a handle attached to a rod which disappeared into a larger diameter tube.  A hose was attached to one end of the tube and the other end had a hard to remove clamp which attached to the stem of the tire or tube and it took almost forever to pump anything up.  You have not lived until you pumped up a car tire, still on the car, with a bicycle hand pump!

     I would stay outside in the snow until I was soaked, cold or hungry.  But for some unknown reason, sledding and playing in the snow takes one's mind off hunger.  I could stay out for hours and not even have to go to the bathroom.  If I was thirsty, I would eat some snow.  I never ate yellow snow.  Yes, I know I should not have eaten snow.  But I was a kid and did not know any better.

     There are a lot of things I should not have done but I did them because I knew better than my parents.  All teenagers know more than their parents.  Teenagers are the know and do anything crowd. They can stare danger down and not even wink.

     But as I have gotten older, time has gotten shorter.  The years pass much faster now.  New Year's Eve arrives and then with a blink of the eye, I am in June, then September and suddenly the holidays have arrived. The holidays are so busy, that getting together with relatives or friends is next to impossible.  The year passes as though I am on a tobaggon going down a steep slope.  Each year takes a shorter time than the year before.

     If I stop celebrating birthdays, will the years slow down?  Can I not celebrate my birthday but still accept gifts?   I have almost everything I would ever want except for maybe a nice contract to write 10 books.   I don't think I'm asking for too much.  Imagine all the money my family and friends will save by not giving me a present for my birthday and perhaps Christmas.  I'm not dropping my Jewish religion.  It just seems that I get more gifts during Xmas than I get during Hanukkah.

      And when I  finally get the 12 book contract and the publisher says he wants a book a year, I will  probably get a bad case of writers block which will make the years drag by.
   
     

209 Days to Go

     Studies show that older persons who exercise and watch their food intake, are happier.  I can't tell you how happy I am when I sit on the recumbent bike and pedal for 30- 40 minutes. Actually I am happier that I am not trying to walk outside on frozen tundra. Walking in the cold does make the body work faster, just to keep from freezing to death. My wife and I walked up to the mall tonight and if it weren't for the cold, the wind and the cars which were trying to remind us to stay off the road, the walk would have been somewhat pleasant. Just once I would like to see  driving their cars and not texting or talking on their cellphones!
   
     We walked  to the Wild Onion, where we ate a quiet dinner.  I had a small cup of thick sweet potato soup and  a fresh mozzarella, basil and tomato with basil pesto  sandwich. Melinda had a cup of curried lentil soup and a nice salad.  And when we came home, we each had a cup of hot chocolate.  I just wanted you to know that even when we go out, we are careful about what we eat because what goes in can leave a not so subtle reminder of our eating detours. Every Friday night, we have a medium plain cheese pizza and a select bottle of wine.
 
     No diet should completely eliminate all  the fun things. Yes, if you were careful, you could in theory have a diet of rich dark chocolate brownies. Popping a couple of vitamins might balance out the lack of nutrition you would not be getting in the sweets. But I would think that eating just brownies would get tiresome after a while.
So the idea of eating is to eat a variety of foods.  Do I sound familiar?

    Most every night I prepare a salad with an oil and vinegar dressing. And we always have some kind of protein to go with the salad. And  just because we are vegetarians, we still have a wide selections of proteins. Rice and beans are a great source of protein. And making the rice in the rice cooker is a no brainer. Add water and rice, put the lid on and the rice is done to perfection. Remembering to plug the pot in, does help!

     And if you want, occasionally  splurge on your diet. Don't make a habit of it and don't beat yourself up too much.

     Just remember when you step on the scale the next morning, the only one you can blame for your weight gain, is the scale!
   
     

210 Days to Go

     Most people would have started this kind of blog a year or two ago.  Not me! I started it because my wife suggested that I should write something which might eventually be seen by the write or right people. Let me explain about this thing called 'The Right People.' I would love to be discovered by a hungry literary agent or publisher.  That's what I mean by the Write People.  Yes, I know what I wrote. And yes, I should have written right but I chose to right write.  It is my blog, Right?
 
     As most of you already know,  I love to write.  Writing is a wonderful escape from this world I call reality.

     I can become anyone I want or dream of.  No, I don't want to be a knockout gorgeous blond with the IQ of a rocket scientist. If being the blond means I can have more hair than I have now and a really flat stomach, then I'm your man.  And you thought I was talking of having a sex change operation, didn't you?  I know you. You can't hide that smirk.  Go ahead and laugh.  No one cares.
 
     So here I am, talking about getting to the ripe old age of Sixty.  This aging thing is not new.  Lots of people have become sixty and older.  Well, I plan on making it to sixty and beyond.  I don't have a magic ball which says that I will have a birthday on 8.04.2010.  I'm just going to try to make it, that's all!
   
     There is an ad on the web which says something like this: If you were to die tomorrow, would your loved ones get all the money you have in the Cayman Islands?
 
     Well, I say, if given the choice of dying today or tomorrow, I choose not to die! The copy was written by an insurance company and they should know a thing or two about dying, shouldn't they?  Imagine if we all were given the option of not dying? Would the insurance companies complain that no one was dying and they were very upset that they did not have to pay out  any money?  Or would they just be quiet and not say  a word?
   
     When has an insurance company not complained about not getting enough money?
   
     So I say to everyone who is approaching sixty, don't die today, or tomorrow.  Stay healthy, eat well, exercise often and make sure you thumb your nose at the insurance company. The longer you live, the more money your significant other will have when you actually kick the bucket.
   
 

211 Days to go

Another day older and perhaps a little wiser.
I did no wake up dead this morning so that is a plus.
I had a little discussion with the scale this morning when I stepped on it. I thought I should have lost more weight than it claimed I had. I got on and off the scale several times just to make sure of my weight. There was no question that I did not lose all the weight I should have.

I have found that losing weight is a lot harder to do, now that I am older than when I was younger. I could lose weight at the drop of a hat when I was in my twenties.
I have tried to lose 10 pounds for what seems like forever!
Yes, I exercise and watch what I eat.
Exercising means being on the stationary bike for at least 30 minutes a day.
And lifting weights twice a week.
Lifting a mug of beer to my lips does not count for lifting weight!

212 days until Sixty

I will be 60 years old in 212 days.

It certainly took me a while to get here.

How does anyone get to be 60?

The best things in life begin at 60. That's what someone said. I think. Actually, I'm not sure. Did someone really say that or was I dreaming it? Perhaps I have lost my mind? No, not yet.


I think, therefore I am. I am what. I am almost 60.