Absolut Humour Clears Your Liver

What do I do with all this salad flavouring?

Reading “How To Care For Yourself After Surgery” revealed clear instructions requiring the patient, me, to ‘cover [the affected area] with a light dressing.’

That eliminated my imported balsamic vinegar and extra virgin olive oil.

Thousand island looks too much like some postsurgical…well, you get the picture.

Honey mustard is too sticky.

Ranch didn’t have the consistency I wanted.

I settled for blue cheese, thick enough to coat the surgical site and give the CRNP something to contemplate while removing the sutures next week.

Now, if I can just keep the cats away from the salad dressing, I’ll be all right.

In global business, I beseech the Pope, Dalai Lama, ayatollahs, tribal chiefs, Gandhi descendants, priests, preachers, psychologists, rabbis, professors, parents – all spiritual/moral/ethical leaders – to teach strong skills to young and old in resisting lies, cheats and stealth when conducting business within our family of seven billion people.

I can see what you’re doing. Not like it’s a secret.

In scenarios where the U.S. defaults on debt payments, the domino effect didn’t cause widespread panic for months.

The Way of Piece

Sunlight captured in decomposed organic material, wind, rain, radioactive rock, steam vents.

Solar power.

Undiscovered, yet-to-be invented energy sources.

“The Life Of The Party” by Bennett Cerf.

The memoirs of Richard Nixon.

Not getting the copy of the nurse response times that my wife asked for and recording other issues here for permanent record.

For my wife’s mother’s health.

Sketches at an inquisition.

Stained glass smiling…rather, beaming in the sun.

Jeff Gordon in 2nd place.

Redirecting the hacking community toward more nonanarchic goals.

Building up rather than breaking in.

The first hacker-launched communications satellite orbiting the Moon, with terabytes of space-hardened quantum computing power far outside international lawmaker infuences.

Last thoughts in this moment of a dying man’s states of energy.

Moving on.

23 and me.

Cloning disc.

Disc golf.

Exclusive news and offers.

Putting seven billion people to constructive use rather than spend all my energy shredding the global banking “industry” into its nonmaterialistically immaterial antiquated pieces.

Making derivatives and commodity futures – any speculative manipulation of basic goods-and-services prices – illegal again.

Either that, or motivate the crowd to foment revolution.

I can go any way I please, all in the name of saving the species for my goal of saving the species from itself and for its participation in spreading life of Earth into the cosmos.

Off the top of your head can you tell me the temperature of Mars 10, 20, or 100 killometers below the surface?

I’m tired and impatient.

Am I supposed to say I’m glad we have VCs who’ve made their gazillions by jacking up the cost of living for ignorant peasantry in order to fund startups that’ll hopefully create the next generation of peasants’ artificially-induced desirables?

[Note to editor: strike “peasantry” reference in the last paragraph and replace with “middle class” – tell business/political leaders’ speechwriters to do the same.]

The elders on the Committee remind me that I need to back off and let people have their dreams, no matter how misinformed or misdirected they may seem to be.

After all, I grew up cheering for Richard Petty – a guy who sat in a metal cage and pointed the output of an internal combustion engine so that the metal cage rolled primarily in semicircles several hours at a time – signing autographs and bringing happiness to people most of the week.

That, in itself, will not get me on a cruise around the Moon, but profits from the sale of idolising gear and spinoff technology will.

Best wishes and prayers for those who suffer ill effects of natural disasters, those who live in violence-prone neighbourhoods and those who face illnesses alone in loneliness.

Time to meditate.

Only 14,193 days left – time’s a’wastin’!

The Last Time

I can’t remember the last time I personally fitted someone with cement shoes.

Go “legit” and old methods don’t motivate like they used to.

My colleagues used to rob banks, for instance.

Now we raid them via stock price manipulation and false news innuendo (e.g., there’s a rumour the Bank of America is running out of cash so people oughta remove their savings and checking account deposits while they can; those with BoA mortgages and CDs are out of luck).

Reminds me of a phrase I heard recently: “The only time they conduct a state survey is after an ‘incident.'”

I don’t like feeling out of control…gets me all emotional-like and wantin’ to take charge regardless of circumstances.

How yew doin’?

I’m a nice guy but my associates in the ‘family’ business ain’t, you see. Hard ball’s the only game they know how to play.

That’s the issue with managing a planet of seven billion people – people give me what I want even when I don’t ask for it ’cause they seen what happens when I don’t get what I want.

With so many planets to choose from, I can take or leave this one. Most of youse ain’t leaving this one anytime soon so let me be a nice guy to you while we’re here together.

Otherwise, see, my associates and colleagues in the prestressed concrete business have a little leftovers to share wit’ you.

They often anticipate what I want before I do.

How’s that for predictin’ the future?

Good thing I’m anonymous, huh? Otherwise, you might believe you think you know who I am while you observe two comedians having fun playing a middle-aged couple being tired at the supermarket checkout line.

The power of illusion.

Thanks to Rachel at Zaxby’s, the workers at McAlister’s, Chelsea and the young worker with the ‘A’/Aeon Flux hairstyle at Cheeburger Cheeburger, Sharon at HarborChase, the smiling young cashier at the self checkout section of Walmart, LaQuanda and James at the post office, Jessica at AARP/United Healthcare call center, Michael at Amedisys, Jason at McAbee Medical, Doris and her happy coworkers at the American Red Cross, Joe at Kinesthetic Cue DC, and workers at Tuesday Morning.

Is geriatric care better and less complicated to finance in Thailand, Latvia, or the U.S.?

More Gratitude

A nod of thanks to many in the past week or so, including the marketing/sales managers of the following assisted living facilities:

  • Tammie Robinson-Lindsey, Gardens of Huntsville, 10310 Bailey Cove Road, Huntsville, AL 35803, 256.880.1515
  • Michelle Anderson, Country Cottage, 4200 Chris Drive, Huntsville, AL 35802,256.880.1101
  • Kerri Grimes, HarborChase, 4801 Whitesport Circle, Huntsville, AL 35801, 256.650-1155
  • Dana, Clare Bridge at Hampton Cove, 6379 Hwy 431 S, Hampton Cove, AL 35763, 256.564.8383
  • M.M. Tweedy, Regency Retirement Village, 2004 Max Luther, Huntsville, AL 35810, 256.852.0033
  • Susie and Tara, Brookdale Place, 2815 Carl T Jones Drive Southeast, Huntsville, AL 35802, 256.881.6111
  • Michelle Bolling, Emeritus at Kingsport, 2424 N John B Dennis Hwy, Kingsport, TN 37660, 423.288.8600
  • Barry Simmons, Wellington Place of Colonial Heights, 400 Professional Park Dr, Kingsport, TN 37663, 423.239.0022
  • Sherry King, Remington House, 640 Rock Springs Rd, Kingsport, TN 37664, 423.239.8803
  • Sandra Brown, Asbury Place – Steadman Hill Campus, 1300 Bloomington Pike, Kingsport, TN 37660, 423.245.1067

Time to start looking up at the early morning sky for the last view of the Space Shuttle Endeavour and the ISS reflecting light in the same part of the sky.

And then continue to write the next happy, fun chapters of the history of our species in this part of the galaxy.

Lucky Sincere Trust: The Giving Best Family

Is there a theme/purpose for today’s blog entry?

Why am I sitting here externalising my thoughts?

Actions speak louder than words.

As a product of these times, I am connected to the few percent of the living examples of my species in total, dead or alive.

I can speak actively and write passively or three other combinations of active/passive existence.

Possible theme/purpose

In agreement with her family, my wife made the final call about living quarters for the rest of her mother’s life.

A three-story building containing one floor of memory care (i.e., Alzheimer’s/dementia residents) and two floors of those who require assisted living, including a la carte levels of care based on time management studies of individual resident’s daily assistance needs.

Many places we visited during the informationgathering/decisionmaking process offered in-house services such as beauty/barber shop, exercise classes, religion studies, shopping/community excursions, housekeeping/laundry, basic “cable” television, telephone and electric/water/sewage/garbage utilities.

All provided three meals a day, trained staff available 24/7, socialising events and medical alert technology.

Thanks to Kerri, Lawanda, Leonard, Rob, Brenda, Madeline and others at HarborChase for their help ahead of my mother in-law’s arrival.

Thanks to Michelle, Tara, Diane and Tayasha at Country Cottage for their input into my wife’s decision.

A harrying, emotional couple of weeks with logistical issues yet to resolve.

Two Marbles in the Bag

All,

After talking with folks at the assisted living facilities in the spreadsheet I previously sent you, visiting all but one in the local area myself and having the facilities back home send a representative to see Nanny, I think we have the information we need for the final decision.

I talked with Nanny for almost 15 minutes last night, going over with her one more time what she truly desires.

She has seen that she’s not getting many visits from her hometown friends and will continue to get less, possibly leading back to the loneliness she felt at her house.  Her church, which used to be her strongest tie to the community, doesn’t have the appeal it once did.  Thus, with her closest living relatives all begging her to come here, she has decided that the move (with a clear promise to transport her whole deceased body to her hometown for a Christian memorial at the funeral home (and at the church only if we strongly desire so) and burial in the family plot (“all you have to do is add the last date to the stone”)) will satisfy both her and her grand/children’s wishes.

In addition, she expressed her desire not to be in a place that was too busy/confusing with lots of activities.  She wants a quiet, comfortable, but socially-engaging life.

 Thus, here, it appears that two places are best for her, at both an appropriate price point and comfort level – the Multilevel Building and the Single Floor Facility.

The Single Floor Facility, designed on the smaller-is-better concept, has a dining/community area that’s more like a great room in a house (seating all 16 residents) than a restaurant.  Note that it’s locally owned and operated.

The Multilevel Building, on the other hand, like several larger facilities in town, offers many conveniences, including a big dining area that is more of a restaurant than a dining room.  Note that it’s operated by an out-of-town corporation.

If you read this far down in the email, I’ll share with you an observation from a friend of my parents, Linda Bena, who has specialized in geriatric social services for 17 years in Florida.  She highly recommends, especially for a person in her 70s or early 80s, a facility that offers multiple healthcare services (a CCRC or “continuing care retirement community,” as they call it), including independent living, assisted living, skilled nursing, physical therapy and a memory care (Alzheimer’s/dementia) unit.  That way, the person, after making new friends in the facility, can still get convenient visits from these friends in the same facility and enjoy a continuity of “home” life from entry to end-of-life (through hospice care, if desired).

Neither the Multilevel Building nor the Single Floor Facility offers the full suite of CCRC healthcare services that a larger facility like others in town offer.  At the same time, as Linda noted, Nanny, at 93, is much older than the typical person who enters an independent/assisted/skilled nursing facility so a CCRC may not be necessary for her quality of life.

That summarizes the information up to this point.

I still need to figure out the ramifications of moving Nanny from the health insurance plan in her hometown to whatever’s available here because her current health insurance is NOT available locally, which means we’d have to put her on a new Medicare insurance plan by 1 July.

Of course, we’ll get a moving van to transfer personal furniture to the new facility, as well.

My wife will work with her mother to make the final decision.

By the way, the social worker at the physical rehab unit is meeting with the staff for Medicare patient planning later today and will inform me this afternoon if there’s any change in Nanny’s scheduled discharge date – the social worker also has to place orders with the staff doctor on Thursday for Nanny’s transfer to her new home so we need to inform her ASAP tomorrow what the decision is.

Regards,

Rick

100% Real Chocolate

While Internet protocols proliferate, they won’t last forever.  Who is developing the next set(s) of communications protocols, what are they and when will they start spreading, reaching critical mass?

No surprise here.

Learn to live longer.

We’ve all worked with a clueless coworker.

It’s never too early to start planning your late retirement.

Glass of Banfi Chianti

I get paid to observe and one day I’ll spend my savings.

Last night, while adults courted at Guiseppe’s Italian Dining & Cafe, Chad M told me about Maria Marinelli, a niece of the owner, Mike or Raffaele Misciagna.

Earlier in the day, an Air Force veteran and her business associate arranged some flowers at their establishment, the Petal Pusher.

Linda at Kohl’s had brushed her hair and looked 15 years younger.

At Miss Bea’s, sweet tea and pulled candy sat while the workers stood and talked with us away from washing dishes.

Melissa delivered flowers to my mother in-law’s room. Myra, Elizabeth, Debbie, Pauline and Bellamina smiled while they kept patients healthy.

Immigration legal status is a matter of perspective. Feeling invited or welcome is a matter of community generosity.

A whooping crane, whale or leatherback turtle cannot be sentenced, fined and jailed.

I played with children in my neighbourhood when I was a child allowed to go outside and play.

What of the children whose parents discouraged unsupervised neighbourhood gatherings of youth?

What are those grownup boxed-in kids doing today?

Do they discourage unlawful migration of children to more prosperous opportunities to play?

What do you hold sacred?

Do you preserve history at all costs even when you know history is a fable written about the few for the masses?

A candle on a birthday cupcake from Gigi’s given to me by my wife, the two of us celebrating quietly, she lit the candle while she listened on the mobile phone, whispering to me a line from “Happy Birthday,” and I blew out the candle, eating the little cake alone.

The hermit’s life is here and now. My fabled history is completed.

The rest is happy silence, watching my species compete/cooperate for personal space.

Danger: Explosion Hazard. Do not use in the presence of flammable anesthetics!

Riverfront Seafood Company.

Sitting by the Holston, upriver of I-26 bridge and Netherland Inn, first dinner with mon ami, my spouse, after two weeks of my mother in-law telling me the (her) end is near and baring her soul to someone before she dies.

In my final year of secondary school, a career aptitude test said I should be either a priest or a chemical engineer.

The latter career choice didn’t work out as planned.

And now I find myself receiving confession, unable to repeat the deepest spoken thoughts of my spouse’s mother because the living should be able to keep their innocent views of their beloved friend/family member while they’re alive, even after she’s gone.

A request to hunters:

If you pursue beings that mate for life, kill the pair and spare the one from a remaining life of loneliness.

In the small world department, our server, Leif, from Detroit, met his wife who was a bartender at Rush Street restaurant (where I worked 30 years ago while dating my wife) who served Leif a pint “shot” of Jagermeister the first time they met.

Although now separated, remaining friends, they share the love of their eight-year old who can read at the eighth-grade level.

Thanks to Heather at the Colonial Heights Dollar Tree and friendly folks at the automatic/express car wash next-door; Rebecca, Cindy, Martha, Melissa, Sharon Huff, Dr. (not Gate City mayor) Mark Jenkins and beauty shop hair stylists; Kingsport Fire Dept.; City of Bristol Rescue Squad; Betty Denny and her granddaughter Ashley (hope your dog’s inner ear infection clears up); Betty’s pastor at Marvin’s Chapel Methodist Church on Boone’s Creek Road; Spotless Car Cleaners; Rev. Robert White; Joerns Easy Care 2002 bed; LG LCD TV; Prevail adult care large washcloths; Jolene at MeadowView Eye, Ear, Nose & Throat Specialists for rushing the hearing aid repair; Rogersville BP petrol and full service shop; and whomever else I forgot.

Question to self: is it really the end for her, as physically healthy as she is?

Do I take her confessions to me with me to my grave?

When my wife is gone, I hope I won’t have long to live because I trust no one else alive with the totality of my spoken/written thoughts, not even you, dear blog, spread across the anonymous multilanguage word trails of the worldwide web.

Humour will go with me to my last breath, one final sarcastic sigh escaping my lips.

I like the line, “Journalism is not a profession but an art because anyone can do it,” but not everyone can do it well.

How many species understand loneliness?

I meant craft or craftiness, not art, in the quote above, didn’t I?

I did? [rofl]

If you sacrificed your dreams to have kids and you hoped your offspring fulfilled your dreams but didn’t, what else is there to look forward to but the afterlife you’ve been promised?

Judge not lest you begrudge.

Every journalist is a spy.

Every spy lies.

Therefore, does every journalist lie?

I retired in 2007 for this? I’m tired. Time to stop rambling.