"Things that Go Bump in the Night"

Memorial Service for a Dear Friend

2007-12-09T21:38:00.000-05:00

Carol was a dear friend...full of life...a joy to all who knew her. Cancer took her away way too soon. At her memorial service the church was packed. Another friend, Rev. Harry Clark, delivered her eulogy in an eloquent fashion that left all of us uplifted, a feeling I had never experienced at any other funeral or memorial service I had previously attended. Although the service was not recorded, Rev. Clark furnished me with the quotes and scripture that he wove into his message. They are as follows:

Webster's definition of 'friend' - 1) a person whom one knows, likes, and trusts. 2) A person with whom one is allied in a struggle or cause.

William Penn said, "A true friend unbosums freely, advises justly, assists readily, adventures boldly, takes all patiently, defends courageously, and continues a friend unchangeably."

The great evangelist D. L. Moody once remarked, "Some day you will read in the newspapers that D. L. Moody is dead, but don't believe a word of it. For in that instant I shall be more alive than I am now."

When Dr. W. E. Sangster, England's great Methodist preacher lay dying with muscular atrophy, he wrote to his friend, Dr. Billy Graham: "All my life I have preached that Jesus Christ is adequate for every crisis. I have but a few days to live, and oh, Billy, Christ is indeed adequate in the hour of death! Tell everyone it is true."

A similar shout of victory came from Dr. Clarence McCarmey, long-time pastor of Pittsburgh's First Presbyterian Church. As he lay dying, his last message to his congregation was: "Tell them the Anchor still holds!"

The Apostle Paul said in 2 Corinthians 5:8, "We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord."

HE (SHE) WALKS AHEAD
(Resurgence) - Robert Louis Stevenson

She's not dead, this friend; not dead,
But in the path we mortals tread,
Got some few trifling steps ahead,
And nearer to the end,
So that you, too, once past the bend,
Shall meet again as face to face,
This friend, you fancy dead.

RIP My Dear Friend Carol

Medication Black Box Warning - Unintended Consequences

2007-09-13T16:35:00.000-05:00

1. There was an upswing in suicide among teenagers and young adults.
2. Physicians, suspected or diagnosed depression, & prescribed antidepressants.
3. Data suggested increased risk of suicide in young people taking antidepressants.
4. FDA mandated Black Box Warnings for antidepressants stating those risks.
5. Lawyers saw chance for big opportunity and solicited clients.
6. Many physicians decreased or abandoned use of antidepressants.
7. Follow-up studies and data showed increase in teen/young adult suicide rates.
8. FDA cited "Unintended Consequences", but denied cause/effect scenario.
9. Only age group that did not show increased suicide rate was that over 60 years old.
10. This was only group in which antidepressant use increased in time frame.

Could it be that depression is a cause of suicide? Could it be that antidepressants, like all medications, are not effective in a certain percentage of the population taking the medicine? Could it be that responders to the antidepressants did not commit suicide while some of the non responders continued in their depressed states and finally committed suicide? Just wondering. But, there seems to be some cause and effect here.
What's going to happen to that FDA Black Box Warning?

"Greed is Good!" - Gordon Gekko in "Wall Street" (1987)

2007-09-13T12:59:00.000-05:00

Bank of America raises ATM surcharge

In a move that's expected to prompt higher fees industrywide, Bank of America has raised, to $3, the amount it charges non-customers to withdraw cash from most of its ATMs.

The fee, up from $2 per withdrawal (a mere 50% increase), was quietly rolled out across the country in July and August. It's the highest such fee ever imposed nationwide by a major bank.

Because Bank of America (BAC) has the largest ATM network in the USA, the higher fees could hit millions of consumers. Guess the financial world has to do something now that the ludricous subprime market is collapsing. Bless their greedy little hearts.

To Blog or Not to Blog, That is the Question

2007-09-12T08:05:00.000-05:00

I signed off the blogosphere as an active blogger about a year ago. Since then I have continued to read different blogs and commented on a few or more entries, excuse me, blog posts. A couple more blogsites have caught my attention as well as YouTube...ain't that a hoot? I have been tempted at times to start blogging again. Several things have tweaked my desire to make a comment or two via the blogosphere. Topics will include the "no-no's" around the dinner table: politics and religion. The field of medicine will be featured as well as quirks in our society. Like "Law & Order" ( the original ) some entries will be "ripped from the headlines".

One lesson I have learned: Keep your posts short.

If you are one of the few that have continued to monitor my blog, stay tuned. I think I'll come back in a little while to discuss some things.

Adios, Au revoir, Auf Weidersehn

2006-09-19T17:54:00.000-05:00

"A one ana two ana ...So long, farewell, until we meet again, ..."

Thus ended many Lawrence Welk Shows on T.V. that I watched as a child with my parents. I recently relived those days on a Saturday night while we were on the Outer Banks when I watched some of an old Lawrence Welk Show, now telecast weekly on PBS. It was a good healthy bite of nostalgia. A rememberance of a past time, more innocent and less complex than today's world. I made sure I heard that last song before they signed off.

I think it is appropriate that I borrow those old lyrics as I sign off the blogosphere as an active blogger. I have enjoyed the endeavor immensely, but I have lost the desire to take the time to blog. I will continue to read selected blogs and make comments when the spirit moves me, but for now...

ADIOS...AU REVOIR...AUF WEIDERSEHN.

I'm Baaack!

2006-08-29T07:51:00.000-05:00

Been gone from the blogosphere, as far as posting is concerned, for a while. I have, however, logged onto some of my favorite blogs occasionally and even made a comment or two. I have noted a couple of things: (1) Blog entries are, for the most part, getting less frequent...has the charm of blogging lost it's luster out there, or is it just those among the sites I visit? (2) While I still have a few visitors to my blogsite each day, the number has dropped off a lot as I have not posted in a while...understandable since why should one waste time visiting a site that does not offer something new?

Reasons not to blog lately:

(1) Really have not had the urge to write or "vent" lately (see previous blog).

(2) Been doing other things:

A: Went on a mission trip to the Mississippi coast doing habitat type work for an elderly woman whose 800 sq. ft. house was almost destroyed by Katrina. A year later and she is still in a small FEMA trailer. An eye-opening experience and one I suggest for anyone interested in doing some good. There are numerous groups that have programs that allow persons, skilled and unskilled, to help out. I was, for instance, an electrician's goffer for a week: "punchin' (drilling) holes" and "pullin' war" (wire), completely rewiring the house.

Of course, there are some unexplained sights among the devastation. This is not a cut and paste photo. This is not some fictional Welfare Cadillac, but a true FEMA Trailer Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud. This was not the home we were working on for a week.
B: Been studying my Spanish in anticipation of planned mission trip to The State of Tabasco in Mexico in October and trip to visit Number One Son in Costa Rica in December. I actually remember quite a lot from my high school and college Spanish courses, but have forgotten even more.

C: Now my bride, my mom and I are spending a couple of weeks at Kill Devil Hills on North Carolina's Outer Banks. Have enjoyed preparing seafood and other dishes here at the house, dining out, sitting around and reading some novels between Spanish Lessons, taking afternoon naps, vegetating a lot, and visiting with friends and family. Our Miss Em was able to come down from the Windy City for a few days, too few, before she returned to enroll in Physical Therapy School at the University of Illinois in Chicago. She has called back about her first day, including her introduction to her cadaver in gross anatomy lab. Brought back memories of my first day of med school. I think they are starting out with the upper extremity and the brachial plexus, one of the most difficult areas to master.

We were planning to go back home Friday, Sept. 1. Now Tropical Storm Ernesto is heading our way. If it remains fairly weak and comes to this area the end of the week, we'll probably stay till Sunday after it has passed to head back home. If it picks up steam, we'll head out earlier, before it gets here. Will definitely keep track of this one.

I go back to work after Labor Day for another 5-week stint at the clinic. If I have time, and something rattles my cage, I'll be back again.

Recurring Thought While Reviewing Current Events

2006-08-12T08:10:00.000-05:00

The Egyptians. The Babylonians. The Persians. The Greeks. The Romans. The Aztecs. The Mayans. The Mongols. The Mings. The British. The Soviets. Etc.

Each had its "empire". Each had its place in the sun. I'm almost certain that the people of these "empires", and most assuredly their leaders, thought that their "empire", their way of life, would last forever. Some have vanished completely, while others are mere locations on the world map.

Globalization. Bottom-Line Mentality. Outsourcing. Record Trade Deficits. Islamic Terrorism. Bitter Partisan Politics. "Politicians" instead of Statesmen. Society of "Victims". Entitlements.

To paraphrase T.S. Eliot:
This is the way we may end, both with a bang, and a whimper.

And we are only two generations removed from "The Greatest Generation".

Nathan's Hot Dogs...Simply the Best!

2006-07-11T17:18:00.000-05:00

According to a recent taste test performed by Cook's Illustrated (The Consumer's Report of the kitchen), Nathan's hot dogs were the "Best in Show". They are dogs, aren't they, so why not use the jargon of the Westminster Kennel Club?

I'm not surprised. They have always been a favorite of our family. Still, its nice to have our taste buds' opinion confirmed by such a prestigious organizaion as America's Test Kitchen.

But, eating 53 3/4 Nathan's hot dogs in 12 minutes, as the winner of the hot dog-eating contest did at Coney Island on the 4th of July, seems a bit much. I prefer to eat just a couple on steamed buns with mustard, chili, onions, +/- slaw, over a period of 10 - 15 minutes. This allows me to savor every bite.

Made in the USA, a Thing of the Past?

2006-07-10T19:31:00.000-05:00

As I reported in my last blog posting, I bought a pair of Bass Weejuns this past weekend. Got them at a Bass Outlet in Myrtle Beach, S.C. Not much different than the first pair I bought in high school. Cost $39 now, vs. about $19 then. Not bad, when one sees how much other things have gone up over the years.

Could not help but notice that they were made in Brazil. I guess that is how the price has been held down.

About 90% of all golf club grips used to be made right here in my hometown by GolfPride. Now a large majority are manufactured by GolfPride and its competitors in the Far East.

Abbott closed its I.V. components plant here and moved a lot of the production to Puerto Rico and other Central American plants.

GolfPride representative on plane to China struck up conversation with representative of Timberline Boots, and was surprised to learn that not a single Timberline boot has ever been made in the USA.

Furniture and textiles, once, along with tobacco, the backbone of the N.C. economy are going, going, gone...never to return.

The Big Three U.S. automakers are encouraging early retirements and closing plants, and still posting staggering losses.

There are many other examples as we now dwell in a "global economy".

We supposedly now live in a service economy. But, much of service is being provided by undocumented workers who do the work that "Americans won't do." Meanwhile, the welfare rolls grow. And, to my simple way of thinking, not everyone who seeks employment in the U.S. can be accomodated by the service industry. There is just so much service that needs providing. And, if the economy tanks, who can afford service.

Is the day approaching when nothing will be made in the U.S.A.?

Who or what is the blame? Look in the mirror. The American consumer who demands low prices...always looking for a bargain, whether at WalMart or the outlet mall. I got my Weejuns, what have you gotten recently that used to be "Made in America"?

Sea Island, an Inn at the Beach...Redux

2006-07-10T13:46:00.000-05:00

Here we are, once again, at the Beach, Myrtle Beach, S.C., to be more specific. By “we” I mean my bride, my mom, and myself. Three-of-a-kind (senior-citizen travelers) beats two pair (young whipper-snappers) any time, at least in poker. That’s what I continue to tell myself, anyhow. What else can one say once the days of youth have passed?

We have come down here to patronize and try out an old favorite get-away spot and try something new at the same time. The old 4-story hotel-based Sea Island Inn at the Beach was torn down and replaced with a much larger 13-story condominium-based complex on the same site. For years we have come to the old Inn (not to be confused with The Cloisters, the blue-blood resort island on the coast of Georgia) for long restful weekends. Located on the ocean front in the middle of an upscale residential neighborhood, it is a unique anomaly in a very busy Myrtle Beach. We were anxious to see how the new Inn compared to the comforts and amenities of the old. Would it still offer that “special” atmosphere so prevalent in days past?

By and large the answer is “yes”.

All rooms in the old Inn were ocean front with a balcony. Ditto the condos, which range from one to four bedrooms. Price for a two bedroom condo is a little more, but not that much more, than we previously paid for 2 rooms. When we look at the prices for the off season, when we really enjoy coming down, it is still a great deal.

Dining: Equally good menu, preparation, presentation, and service. The $40 per day American meal plan is a deal. One gets a five-course dinner, with many choices of appetizers, soups, salads, entrees, and desserts. Also included is a wonderful breakfast with choices including omelets, eggs Benedict, and waffles, as well as eggs done any way, bacon, ham, sausage, grits, hash-browns, fruits and juices. Not an Egg Mc Muffin in site.

I was a little disappointed in the loosening of the dress code for dinner. Previously jackets, usually a blue blazer for me, with a collarded shirt (golf shirts permitted) were the rule. Now "vacation casual" is the code. I felt so bad that I had forgoten to pack some leather shoes that I went out and bought a pair of Bass Weejuns to wear to dinner. While the wait staff remained in coat & tie, and most patrons wore nice casual dinner attire, there were present in the dining room men clad in T-shirts of various designs, shorts, and tennis shoes or sandles. Not what one expects to encounter in a first-class restaurant. I guess "vacation casual" is open to interpretation. Or perhaps, the men were looking for a Big Mac with fries, supersized. The women accompanying these men were all more appropriately dressed for the dinner. I guess I am really getting old when I notice such things.

Pools, splash pads, pool-side accommodations with bar service upgraded. Enough chairs and recliners to accommodate guests. Umbrellas, chairs, and Life Guard on duty down on the beach.

You can still check in and stay here with no need to leave the premises, unless you choose to do so, until time to go home. And, unlike the Hotel California, you can check out and leave.

It is not the same, but it is still special. We will be back.

Must be Something in the Soil

2006-07-03T07:47:00.000-05:00

As I mentioned in my last posting, one of the last things I did during my last days off was to replant the gebera daisy bed. The old ones did not come up this year.

The new ones were beautiful for about a week to ten days, rich green foliage and a rainbow of colors. New buds almost daily. Then, no more new flower buds. Next, wilting sick looking plants. I thought the intense heat was getting to them, although they love sunshine. I watered them religiously. Used some Miracle Grow, by package instructions. Applied some insecticide. All to no avail. They are dying right before my eyes. I am still trying to save them. If one or more actually die, I'll dig it up and inspect the roots for nematodes, although the yard and garden treatment plan through TruGreen/Chemlawn is supposed to take care of that problem.

If they all die, I'll have to abandon the idea of geberas in that area. I'll hate that. Any ideas or suggestions.

Back to Work...For a Much-Needed Rest

2006-06-17T13:34:00.000-05:00

Well, my five-week hiatus away from the clinic ends Monday, and I return to the practice of Pediatrics for five weeks. People ask me if I am ready to go back, not that it really makes any difference whether I am ready or not. I reply that I am ready. I don't dread going back in the least. I enjoy my work for the most part. I guess I am lucky to be able to say that after all these years. But, I would be just as ready to stay in retirement. I have found the experience to be enjoyable and rewarding. I have not been idle. I have learned some things. And, I have gotten some things accomplished.

My bride said if I listed all the things I did during the past five weeks I would be amazed. So, I decided to do just that.

Spent a lot of time (and money) at Lowe's, WalMart, and Bed, Bath, & Beyond.

- Downstairs Bathroom: Put in new light fixtures, electrical outlets, and switches & new decorative cover plates; redid grout and caulking; changed tub & shower fixtures; cleaned tile and porcelain; insalled new curved shower curtain rod and new towel rods. (Still to do: install through-the-wall exhaust fan)

-Upstairs Bathroom: Redid grout and caulking; cleaned tile; changed shower curtain and rod.

-Master Bedroom: Hung new window treatment.

-Attic: Installed new motor on roof ventilator fan.

-Yard: Mowed grass weekly; edged the yard (streetside, driveway, and walkway); planted new type grass in area that it is hard to get to grow since it is so shady - new grass is coming up, but spotty - may have to overseed or bite bullet and get sod; weeded flower beds in front yard; replaced Gebera Daiseys in flower bed - after years, the old ones did not come back this year; re-planted herb garden (its in an old wheelbarrow); planted annuals in topiary planters; started cutting back azaleas after they bloomed. (still to do: finish cutting back azaleas and other shrubbery, clean out tool house and pool house, clear out vines [briars & wisteria mostly] from bordering plants, and weekly mowing and monthly edging)

-Kitchen: Cooked supper on many nights, which I enjoy a lot...and the bride still works full time; cleaned out the "tool drawer" and organized my tools in the rolling tool chest that my family gave me for Christmas...it's about time.

-Social: Helped host several pre-nuptial parties. Hosted cookout and manned the grill for the volunteer staff of Camp Spinoza, the bereavement camp for kids, sponsored by my bride's Hospice.

Volunteer: Worked with Realy-for-Life committee. Going to help with fund raiser tonight. Its a dinner dance, beach theme, so should be fun; worked on church committee planning mission trips to the Gulf Coast in July and to Mexico in October.

Personal Stuff: Had pictures made at professional photographer for new passport and hospital physician handbook and for Dr. gallery. Had pictures taken with No. 1 daughter to give to bride for Mother's Day. No. 1 son stuck in Costa Rica, so he was not available as planned; boxed up things to send to No. 1 Son in Costa Rica...sent them UPS...had them refused by him because the tariff was more than the items were worth...lesson learned; framed pictures and sent to No.1 Daughter; sent just pictures to No.1 son...did not want to send another package, and pictures fit in envelope.

Computer Stuff: Blogged some; studied some Spanish lessons; worked on new website for the clinic; organized e-mail address list for church; wrote announcements for church website; planned Alaskan cruise/tour; initiated planning for Greek Isles cruise in 2008...it seems it is never too early to start these plans; blogged some more.

Its really amazing what one can do when he does not have to go to work every day. It's not like a day off or a weekend. You can really plan and accomplish larger projects. I did enough different things that I did not get the least bit bored doing any of them.

I look forward to my next time off. Besides the "needs to do" listed above, I have other projects that I am just as eager to tackle.

So, with work interfering with my life for the next five weeks, I will not be posting so often, but like General McArthur, "I'll be back".

Just Some "Southern Good Ol Boys"

2006-06-16T07:00:00.000-05:00

I was watching The O' Reilly Factor last night. Geraldo Rivera was on the program for a segment on the legalization of marijuana for medicinal purposes, something I favor, by the way.

The subject changed to the Duke lacrosse team rape case. O'Reilly thinks the case should be dropped, and had said as much on one of his "Talking Points". Rivera countered, saying something to the effect that the use of the "N" word really upset him, and it reminded him of what Southern women had been forced to endure in times past. He clarified that to mean black Southern women.

I somehow felt compelled to e-mail a comment to O'Reilly. Since I know it will not be seen on the show, not "pithy" enough, I will post it here:

Dear Mr. O'Reilly,

Mr. Rivera alluded to the fact that when he heard the use of the "N" word he got upset. He then said that he recalled what Southern women, corrected to Southern black women, had experienced in the past. Fact #1: None of the charged Duke students are Southerners. Fact #2: Lacrosse is not exactly a Southern sport. Fact #3: Duke is a Southern university in location only. Mr. Rivera was quick to stereotype Southerners as bigots and racists when Southerners were not involved.

I think my Facts #1 - #3 are correct. I know that #3 is true. Just ask anyone in our area.

Missing In Action

2006-06-14T23:03:00.000-05:00

I like pictures and images inserted in my blog entries. Above are shown the images I wanted to insert in my last blog posting. But, try as I might, old Blogspot would not allow me to upload them. The program teased me repeatedly, acting like it was uploading them when it really wasn't. "HELP" was not helpful. I even tried to edit the posting after it had been published. No Go!

Jason M has told me the problem was with the Blogspot program, not with my methodology. Since it works well on this posting, I am more perplexed than ever.

Has anyone had similar problems, and if so, are there any work-arounds to solve the problem when it occurs?

You may want to look at the last entry and try to imagine where the images were to be inserted.

"And on That Farm They Had Some Tractors...E-I-E-I-O"

2006-06-12T21:14:00.000-05:00

My bride and I once again helped host and attended another pre-nuptial party last Saturday night. This time, due to the fact that the groom-to-be is a young farmer, the theme of the party was a summer farm picnic. The catering was handled by General McArthur's, best known in the area for his Bar-B-Q and pig-pickings. This night he served fried chicken, baked ham, potato salad, and tomato/onion salad. Dessert was banana pudding (with vanilla wafers). Wish he would have stuck with his specialty.

Music was provided by a bluegrass band, Appalachian Blue, featuring vocalists, banjo, guitar, fiddle, mandolin, and bass. They were great, playing favorites such as Foggy Mountain Breakdown, Rocky Top, and Dueling Banjos, among others. They also did some MoTown numbers with a bluegrass flavor, that they termed MoGrass. Also included in their repertoire were renditions of Brown Eyed Girl and Under the Bordwalk. That was one talented bunch of musicians. I could have listened to them all evening, so I did just that. I did not, however, join in the "clogging". Number One Son and I took "clogging" lessons years ago, and did not pass the course. It's hard folks.

The decorating committee adopted the basic green/yellow color scheme associated with John Deere farm equipment. There was a child's small riding John Deere tractor (you know the kind with pedals) at the entrance. The tablecloths, plates, and napkins were color coordinated in the green/yellow motif. Centerpieces on the tables were comprised of toy John Deere farm implements with white daisies with yellow centers. The bride was presented with a John Deere cap with a short veil attached. The couple's chairbacks at the head table were festooned with John Deere T-shirts, her's complete with a bridal train. I am going into such detail to show it was a John Deere evening. I thought it most appropriate, because I wanted to tell the groom, "Nothing runs like a Deere"...but idea was nixed by my bride.

To quote Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, "Big Mistake". For you see, the young farmer groom works for one of the biggest farms in the area, that just happens to be a major user of International Harvester farm equipment. The elder farmer employer and his farmer sons/wives were in attendance, of course. If they were not some of the nicest people in the world, something probably would have been said that was later regretted.

Farmers are pretty much brand loyalists. You are a Deere farmer, an International farmer, or a Massey-Furgeson farmer, period. Much like NASCAR race fans are Chevy fans, Ford fans, or Dodge fans, period. (Sidebar: I guess next year they will be some Toyota fans, as they enter the fray.)

But look at the bright side. The decorating committee could have adopted the red and white color scheme of the Massey-Ferguson brand. Then the young bride could have walked around all night with a large MF emblazoned on the front of her bridal cap.

"We are the Champions, We are the Champions..."

2006-06-05T23:16:00.000-05:00

After being blown out (12-zip) in the first game, which ended after only 5 innings due to the 10-run mercy rule, the Fighting Scots of Scotland High School regrouped, came back, and won the next two games (1-0 and 10-5) to win the North Carolina 4-A High School Baseball Championship.

Great news in our One-Horse Town.

GO SCOTS!

Tragedy Compounded

2006-06-04T08:01:00.000-05:00

Friday's edition of the regional newspaper, The Fayetteville Observer, carried the tragic story of the two misidentified young ladies from Michigan on its front-page.

Saturday's edition carried the following Correction at the bottom of page 2:

"The photos with a story about a Michigan student who was misidentified by the coroner after a traffic accident were mislabled Friday. Laura VanRyn was killed; Whitney Cerak was seriously injured."

Irony of ironies.

Robert Duvall's "Hub " McCann & "Gus" Mc Rae...The Former a Mere Shadow of the Latter

2006-06-02T23:15:00.001-05:00

I'm not a big movie buff. It's not an elitist thing. I hardly ever watch PBS or listen to NPR radio. I prefer the "Law & Order" series on the tube and my rather eclectic collection of music stored on my laptop and piped through my stereo system for listening pleasure. Right now I'm listening to "The Eagles" as I type this. Did I just say "type this"? I did. What do you call it when you compose something on a computer instead of a typewriter. "Keyboard this"? "Compute this"? I'll stay with"type this".

Last night I watched the 2003 release"Secondhand Lions" on DVD. That's how current I am in my movie viewing. Number 1 Son has already seen "The Davinci Code". Anyhow, my Mom had gotten it from a friend and thought I may enjoy it. I did, but throughout the movie I had a feeling of "deja vu".

Watching Robert Duvall's portrayal of Uncle "Hub" McCann with Michael Caine's playing Uncle "Garth" McCann was reminiscent Duvall's character Ranger Augustus "Gus" McRae with Tommy Lee Jones's playing Ranger Woodrow F. Call in the classic 1989 T.V. mini-series, "Lonesome Dove", based on the novel of the same name by Larry McMurtry. (Sidebar: Now that is an example of a run-on sentence if there ever was one.) It was not that the names of the characters were so similar. I wonder if that was intentional, an inside joke, because the characters were so similar, the same.

But, not really the same. Lions's "Hub" McCann's character paled in comparison with that of Dove's" Gus" McRae. I will never forget many of the "Gusisms" so skillfully delivered by Duvall. (Example: Gus to Woodrow during the cattle drive north: "If we don't know where we're going, how do we know when we get there?") The Duvall/Jones pairing and banter also bettered that of Duvall/Caine. Who, if they have seen "Lonesome Dove", can ever forget "Gus" going to see "Lori, Darlin" for a little "poke".

"Lonesome Dove" is one of the few things I preserved on video tape in the pre-DVD era, and the only one I have watched several times over the years. It's that good. I confess, I never read the book. Could it be better?

So, for all my young readers out there (all 3 0f you), I suggest you rent it some weekend and sit back with a lot of popcorn and Coca-Cola and enjoy a true classic. I don't recommend beer, only because I don't want you to miss a thing in this wonderful mini-series.

"MaMa, Don't Let Your Babies Grow up to be Cowboys"

2006-06-01T21:53:00.000-05:00

Let them grow up to be skilled tradesmen, such as painters, plumbers, glaziers, electricians, finish carpenters, cabinet makers, etc.

During my time off I have been doing a little of this and that around the house...redoing a bathroom and changing some electrical outlets & lighting fixtures, really pretty simple stuff. Of course it takes me much longer than it would a pro, but I tell myself that I am learning as I go. Sort of OJT. So far, I have had to call in the cavalry three times: (1) a plumber, because I did not want to break off a pipe behind a wall; (2) a glazier to fix and hang large bathroom mirrors; and (2) an electrician, because I did not want to be KILLED!

I have discovered why these skilled tradesmen cost so much. As my brother would say, "They, like a divorce, are expensive. But they are worth it".

Exceptional People in a One-Horse Town, Part V

2006-05-30T19:20:00.000-05:00

Sixth in a series, capturing the essence of exceptional people I have had the honor, pleasure, and privelege of knowing in my hometown. If you are lucky, you have known some similar people yourself.

I can't remember when I first met Earl. It may have been when he brought one of his boys, now grown men, to the clinic. But, I did not get to know Earl until he started taking care of my pool. For you see, Earl owns and operates the local swimming pool company, a family affair. For years I enjoyed, or at least told myself that I enjoyed, caring for our pool. I would get home from work, grab a cigar and a beer, and head out to the back yard to skim, vacuum, empty the leaf baskets, backwash the filter, etc. The funny thing is, I hardly ever got in the pool. I just maintained it. Many cigars and beers later, after my kids were grown and gone, I had even less reason to be out by the pool. I found myself getting way behind in the pool chores and ended up with a green mess. It was so bad that one of my partners suggested that I get some aquatic plants and fish and convert it into a fish pond. My bride nixed that plan.

Then I had bright idea. Why not hire the pool company to get the mess straightened out and them resume the upkeep myself? I called, Earl & boys promptly came, and did such a stellar job getting the pool back up to a pristine condition that I inquired about how much regular service would cost. The answer was very reasonable, probably in the ballpark of what I was paying for cigars and beer. We made a handshake deal on the spot.

Over the years I have gotten to know Earl and his family, good folk all. The family is the backbone of a local volunteer fire department. The boys, in addition to keeping up the pool service with Earl, are members of the Sheriff's Department. On the side they use their backhoe, installing septic tanks. That is one hard-working clan.

Somehow I found out that Earl was a cancer survivor. He surely did not tell me, for such is not in his nature. He did not complain or dwell on it, even though things were not going so well for him. He repeatedly went back and forth to Duke University Medical Center for therapy and surgery. I only found out about this because sometimes the boys would come to clean the pool without Earl, and when I inquired about Earl, they would simply reply, "He's back up at Duke again".

When I, myself, became a cancer survivor, the bond between Earl and me was strengthened. He would inquire about how I was doing. Thankfully, I could, and still can, answer that I am doing fine. I would do the same. Now that we were fraternity brothers in a fraternity no one wants to join, Earl felt comfortable in opening up to me. He never complained. But, he was not ignorant of his situation. Time and again he would experience setbacks, get another round of therapy, and would rally, although never "cured". Although his was a stormy path, he never said, "Why me?". He would get out of Duke and be back at the job the next day. One day when he really looked washed out and was out back tending to the pool, I asked him why he did not stay home and get rested. He answered, "I have to keep on living". Man, does Earl love life, and he has kept on living. Between his stays at Duke and his work, Earl travels. He loves to go to the beach and the mountains. He and his wife took an Alaskan cruise a year or so ago. He loves riding his motorcycle and attending biker events with his wife.

At the time of last fall's local Relay for Life, sponsored by the American Cancer Society, Earl was once again hospitalized at Duke. He had been honored for his inspiration to others at the Kickoff Banquet for the Relay. There was no way he was going to miss the event. He insisted on being discharged, even if only for a day, to participate. He was suffering from nausea and lack of appetite, requiring medication. He was weak. But he was smiling his famous smile. At the time for the Survivor's Lap, I told Earl that I would go get him a wheelchair. "No Way," he said, "I'm going to walk that lap, but I may have to lean on your arm." So off we went, walking together, side by side, two brothers in the bond. Earl made it around the track without assistance. People who had gathered along the fence would, upon seeing Earl, applaud loudly, whistle, shout, and call his name. For such is Earl's inspiration to all the survivors, families, friends and supporters gathered together that glorious day.

In the months since the Relay, Earl's condition has deteriorated. Treatments no longer have a beneficial effect. He was in constant pain. He had stopped doing the things he loved to do. A couple of months ago he was enrolled with Hospice. He has proved that "Hospice is not about dying, it's about living". With adequate pain management Earl has resumed his traveling ways. He has been back to his mountains. He has taken several trips to the beach. He even managed to attend this year's Biker Week at Myrtle Beach.

He continues to inspire. Go, Earl, Go!

Exceptional People in a One-Horse Town, Part IV

2006-05-29T23:35:00.000-05:00

Fifth in a series. As I have written this series of posts about "exceptional" people, I am cognizant of the fact that some will read these and think, "These are not really 'exceptional' people, in fact, they are rather 'ordinary' folks. Sports 'heroes', movie & television 'stars', politicians, media personalities,... those are the truly 'exceptional' people". I guess it just depends upon one's definition of "exceptional". I'll stick with mine.

To say Winnie is a "domestic" or a "cleaning lady" is to tell the truth, but not "the whole truth, so help me God". I'll get one thing out of the way right now. She does a real good job straightening up and cleaning the house. She does the litttle things, the often overlooked things, that adds the icing to the cake. And, while she does not like to do ironing, she does it in a pinch and does it well. But that is not why I think she is exceptional, so no more space will be devoted to this.

Winnie is a "Hoot". She always makes me laugh, or at least smile a lot. She is one of those personalities that is bigger than life. More than a breath, but a gale-force wind of fresh air. I look forward to the days when I am off and she is scheduled to work. If my day has started off bad for some reason, my "down" mood is no match for Winnie's intrusion. With her comes a bright beam of sunlight that brightens up the darkest of days. Abby, my little Boston terrier, is a good judge of human character, and she runs around in circles and seems as happy as a hog in mud when Winnie arrives.

Now Winnie is a Yankee. She kinda ruins my sterotype of Yankees. She is also a retired employee of the U.S. Postal Service, rather destroying another of my sterotypes. I kid her that I know she was fired and did not retire, because she was ruining the hard-won reputation of the USPS's "service". I don't think any present USPS employees need fear that Winnie will get a Mac-10 or Uzi and pay them a visit. "Disgruntled"is not a word that pops to mind when thinking about Winnie.

Winnie moved south, while still a postal employee to be nearer some family members, including a son who was living in the area. Upon retirement, she sought employment in the area of domestic services. She began working for a friend of my mothers. The friend recommended Winnie to my mother, who employed her and then recommended Winnie to us. That was our lucky day.

Winnie is one of the most caring, compassionate, selfless, generous persons I have ever known. Among her clientele are several elderly widows. She watches over her brood like a mother hen. Winnie goes that extra mile to cater to their needs. She takes them shopping or shops for them. She takes them to their doctor's appointments. She brings them (and us) surprise gifts. She visits them at home or when they are in the hospital. She calls to check up on them and makes sure they are doing OK. She checks on our house when we are out of town, volunteering to take in the mail and feed the cat on a daily basis, explaining that she will be going by the neighborhood anyhow, so it is no trouble. Reluctantly, she sometimes accepts a tip for these additional services. But, she does not do it for the money. She cares about them and about us.

Winnie is an active member of her church. She lives the Christian life. She epitomizes the saying, "If you are a Christian, act like one...You may be the only Bible some folks will ever see".

A devoted family person, she thinks nothing of jumping in her car and driving to New York and back to check on her elderly mother. Often she makes the round trip over a weekend. Round-trips to Atlanta to check on her son and dote on her grandchild are also a regular occurances in her life. She gives and gives and gives of herself.

I am very thankful that this remarkable, caring woman entered into our lives.

Wedding Distractions

2006-05-29T01:30:00.000-05:00

My bride and I have been to three weddings recently, one every other weekend, involving the children of our friends. The three have all been very nice, enjoyable affairs. The brides all beautiful, the grooms all beaming. But all three have been different. The services have been meaningful and the receptions outstanding in every respect.

The first was held on a beautiful, pleasantly cool, cloudless Saturday afternoon in the bride's immaculately landscaped backyard adjacent to the eighth fairway and green of the local country club. The reception was held under a large tent erected on the premesis. It was a first-class affair, but the least formal of the three. There were no distractions from golfers, since the eighth hole had been closed for the duration of the wedding activities. There was no "Fore" during the vows.

The second, with surronding events, was the most formal of the three. It was a High Episcopalian/Anglican service. The reception was held at the North Carolina Country Club in Pinehurst.

The third, held at our local church, a Presbyterian service, was more formal than the first, less formal than the second, somewhere in between. Beautiful music provided by the organist and a violinist, including "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" and "The Lord's Prayer". The father of the groom, an ordained lay minister in the Presbyterian Church USA, participated in the service. He delivered The Scripture Reading (1 Corinthians 13: 1-13) and the Wedding Meditation. It was quite a moving moment to observe. It was a wonderful wedding ceremony.

(Note to Tom, the self-proclaimed "Presbyterian Worship Nerd": The service did not contain an Affirmation of Faith...I asked our Associate minister, who was sitting with us, what was the position of the Church re: using an Affirmation of Faith in a wedding service, and she said that some families chose to include it while others do not.)

The reception, with delicious food and drink, was held at the scenic lakeside Belk Center on the campus of St. Andrews Presbyterian College, where the mother of the groom is employed. It was a festive affair, and as is often stated in the society pages of the local hometown newspaper or the church newsletter, "A good time was had by all".

But, this is about Wedding Distractions. What distractions? Well, if the latest wedding had not been held at my home church, and if I were not on the Worship Committee that helped draft the Wedding Policy, I may not have noticed. But, since it was, and since I am, then I did notice. The policy clearly states that flash photography is fobidden during weddings, and this includes the professional photographer employed to chronical the event. This information is furnished to the families of the bride and the groom. We have an audio-visual system with two cameras and several microphones to record all worship services, weddings, and funerals. Flashes interfere with the auto settings of the video cameras. Plus, it is a Worship Service, not a rock concert or sporting event.

First I noted the flashes of cameras coming from various parts of the church, like you see from the stands at the Super Bowl or a night-time NASCAR race, as if the flash will go further than about 9 - 10 feet. Next, I heard the repetitive, distinctive, plastically annoying, raspy grinding sound as the thumb-driven wind buttons of disposable cameras were activated, followed by more flashes. Just as the bride's procession began, the professional photographer jumped in and backpedaled in front of the bride and her father, flashing away...almost falling... and finally pushing his way into a pew, nearly knocking down a guest whose eyes, at that time, were focused on the bride. Then the man sitting just in front of me, held up a digital camera blocking my view. When he took a picture, and a flash emitted from his camera, I could not contain myself. I gently tapped him on the shoulder and informed him that flash photography was not allowed in the sanctuary during services. He must have thought I was crazy, since there were other flashes going on at that very time. That's what I mean about distractions. I guess we will have to resort to putting a "No Flash Photo" logo on the wedding bulletins.

Then there was the toddler held in a parent's lap on the back row, who did his best to compete with the minister's Greeting and Opening Prayer. I surmise that the parent took the child out of the sanctuary after this, since I did not hear him/her after this, and I cannot imagine such a chatty toddler suddenly becoming quite and staying so for the rest of the service.Unless, of course, the parent stuffed something in his/her mouth. Why do parents do this? Another logo needed?

Finally, there is the applause. I guess it is acceptable, and really not a distraction, since it is so common after the minister introduces the couple as Mr. & Mrs. ------- ------ for the first time. Must be the Presbyterian in me, a member of the "Frozen Chosen" who do everything in order; but I feel uncomfortable clapping during any worship service. I appreciated the "No Applause" notice in the second wedding bulletin. Felt much more comfortable.
Perhaps the above with a cross hatch would get the massage across

Another One Will Finally Bite the Dust...At Last

2006-05-28T23:40:00.000-05:00

Well, at long last they are going to tear down "old" Scotland Memorial Hospital, located in the middle of town, a block and a half from my house and a half block from my office. This "old" SMH replaced the even older community hospital located in the WW II era military hospital at the abandoned Army Air Corps Glider Base located about five miles outside of town.

It was built in the early 1950's, partly financed with Federal Hill-Burton funding, which at that time forbade air-conditioning such facilities that received that funding. Boy, was that a stupid stipulation in the South, typical of the Feds. With the addition of some air-conditioning and a series of modest renovations it served the community well until 20 years ago when Scotland Memorial Hospital built a new larger facility on a campus on the south side of town. Since that time the "new" Scotland Memorial Hospital (aka Scotland HealthCare Systems, Inc.) has undergone several additions, including the addition of more operating rooms; an Outpatient Surgery Center; a Woman's Center with an enlarged newborn and Level II Nursery; a Cancer Treatment Center with Medical and Radiation Oncology Services; Outpatient Specialty Clinics for visiting sub-specialists from Duke; and the newest in Imaging Services, including CT Scanning and MRI. The latest addition is the new huge state-of-the art Emergency Department upgrade, the first phase of which will become operational next week.

"Old Scotland Memorial Hospital" holds many memories for me, some happy, others sad. I was myself hospitalized there at age 14 with mononucleosis. I was stiched up in the old ER more than once. My paternal grandfater and favorite great-uncle, both in their 90's died there from pneumonia, "the old man's friend", after having fallen and suffered hip fractures. Those were the days before artificial hip replacements. My maternal grandmother, "Big MaMa" - all 5 feet of her - died there in the ICU at age 83, after suffering a heart attack several hours before she died. I can still remember being in her room, tears running down my cheeks after the doctor talked to us, showed her EKG to us and, when I inquired about what if showed, the reply was, "that's a dying heart". I was there to comfort her, but she, in her dying moments, comforted me and my Mom.

My daughter, Miss Em, was born there, delivered by a good friend and professional colleague. During my bride's labor, UNC was playing Kentucky in the Eastern Regionals of the NCAA tournament. There were no TV's in the labor rooms. She, the big UNC fan, would make me go out into the lobby between contractions and check on the score. That suited me fine. We had done the Lamaze thing, but even as a physician, I was not prepared to witness my bride's suffering during the labor of childbirth. I felt completely helpless and ineffective in relieving her discomfort, spelled PAIN! A man's place is in the waiting room, not the delivery room. Miss Em finally arrived. She continues to this day to be well worth my feelings of unworthiness and ineptitude on that day.

The close proximity of the "old" SMH to my home and my office made my "commute" to work a "breeze", and I literally mean a "breeze". I often walked or rode my bike. No hastle finding a parking place in the crowded parking lots.

Professionally, I have had great successes and some losses. At a wedding this weekend I saw a young man headed for Harvard Business School. As a newborn infant he developed Group B Strep sepsis, a lethal baby killer. I was on duty and was fortunate enough to make the right diagnosis and prescribe the correct treatment to cure him. I vividly remember calling his father that night and telling him that he needed to come to the hospital because I needed to talk to him and his wife. His question: "Is it serious, Doc?" My reply, and I'll never forget it: "If it were not serious, I would not be here at 3 o'clock in the morning". He wasted no time in getting to the hospital. Others in the wedding party were also successful survivors of serious, even life-threatening, illnesses managed by me and my partners. These successes and others, these lives saved, are the rewards of Pediatrics.

But, there are also the tragedies. I am still haunted by the memory of the toddler who died of Staph "Scalded skin" sepsis despite my best efforts. I'll never forget the young patients who succumbed to acute lymphoblastic leukemia, now an almost 100% curable illness. Nor will I forget the incident with the sick newborn who was dying before my eyes, and there was nothing more I could do for him. I found myself saying "God damn it" one minute and "God help me" the next. Later, after the infant had died, I took the opportunity to discuss the situation with my minister, a very wise and learned man. I asked him what he thought of such opposite, juxtaposed expressions. His simple reply: "They were both prayers".

I continued my profession at the new hospital. But, we did not relocate our office to the high-rent district surrounding the new hospital. We stayed put, and have even enlarged our own facilities. Meanwhile, the "old" SMH building was allowed to fall into a state of complete disrepair. The grounds were not maintained. It was sold and resold several times to different absentee landlords who professed plans to convert the facility into several types of facilities, such as an apartment complex or a retirement community...pipe dreams all. The building really did not lend itself to any such project. It as built as a hospital with rebar reinforced contiguous concrete flooring and walls. Plus there was a lot of asbestos, making renovations cost prohibitive. It was the consensus around here that these corporations never really planned any such renovations, but rather purchased the building and then re-sold it to serve as a corporate tax loss of some kind.

Not only did the "old" SMH become a giant eyesore, it became a dangerous place, attracting young thrill seekers and the local population of dope smokers. Not conducive to the maintaining of property values in the neighborhood, my neighborhood. So, several years ago a movement started to purchase the property with the goal of tearing down the building and seeking a new tenent to build on and enhance the property.

With a combination of local private donations, coupled with some private foundation and governmental grants, the project came to fruition early this year. But, there was one last hurdle to jump. In order to secure the governmental grants, the building had to be cleared by the State and Federal Historical Commissions. Look at the building, it's ugly 1950's utilitarian institutional architecture. Review the brief history. Its not suitable for any other use. Why would it even be considered for the State or Federal Historic Registry, but it was. Finally, within the past month this last hurdle has been cleared. Chain link fencing has been erected around the site (which should have been done years ago) and the demolition company's sign is in place. The real work of demolition is supposed to begin within the next week of so.

The site will be cleared to make way for the local community college's new health-related education center, featuring a school of nursing and various medical-related technical programs. So, it seems our decision to keep our office at its present location will turn out to be a wise decision in the long run. Such a new modern educational institution will be good for my neighborhood also.

It's about time!

"VIDALIA ONION DAYS", AGAIN

2006-05-25T07:17:00.000-05:00

Few good things have come out of Georgia. Peaches? Edgefield County, South Carolina produces more peaches than the entire state of Georgia. "The Peach State" my eye! How about those "el foldo" Atlanta Braves; or the"Close but No Cigars" Falcons; or the "Are Not, Never Were, and Never Will Be" Hawks? President Jimmy Carter? I'm talking about good things here. CNN was a good thing at one time. The University of Georgia has produced one good thing, its mascot UGA.

(Sidebar: Reminds me of a story: Two Georgia football fans were attending a game. They meandered down to the playing field during halftime and went over to see UGA. At that particular time UGA was licking himself, as dogs often tend to do. Fan # 1: "Hey, I sure wish I could do that." Fan # 2: "That dog would bite Yoooou"...Thanks to the late Lewis Grizzard ...One good thing out of Moreland, GA.)

But, to give credit where credit is due, Georgia has given us Coca-Cola and the sweet, delicious Vidalia Onion. Coca-Cola did stump its toe when it introduced the new Coke Classic a couple of years ago, but overall it has been a good product, an icon of modern western civilization, like it or not. Hate to admit it, but I prefer it to my own state's product, Pepsi-Cola, while many say they can't tell any difference between the two. I now prefer Caffeine Free Diet Coke, but feel foolish that I am really purchasing dark colored, sweetened carbonated water. I don't feel quite so foolish now that I see folks paying more for plain old bottled water, and even more for plain old flavored bottled water. (I would love to go to one of those bottled water plants and see what faucet that water really does come from)

But, I digress. It's "Vidalia Onion Days" again. It only lasts a short time in the spring of the year. Our high school band booster's club sells them every spring. Their product is good and freshly delivered from the special area of Georgia, so I have been a regular customer for a few years. I usually order ten pounds for ten dollars. Although these sweet delicacies don't keep as well as your ordinary generic onions, and I may have to throw out the last two or three, it is money well spent. For the next couple of weeks I will be preparing and eating my year's quota of onions.

(Sidebar: Storage...put the Vidalia onions in a nylon stocking, with a knot between each onion. Hang in a cool place. When onion needed, cut off the bottom onion.)

Some folks peel them and eat them like apples, I don't go that far.

Sliced: On juicy hamburgers, or Bologna & Cheese or Bar-B-Q Sandwiches.

Chopped: On Hot Dogs. In Soups and Stews. In Spaghetti Sauce. In Salads.

Rings: (1)Soaked in Milk for 30 Minutes, Lightly Dredged in Flour/Salt/Pepper to produce Thin Coating and Deep Fried in Vegetable Oil, not overcooked. (2) Four Vidalia Onions Marinated with 1/2 cupVegetable Oil, 3 oz. Crumpled Blue Cheese, 2 Tbs. Lemon Juice, 1 tsp Salt, 1/2 tsp Sugar, Dashes of Seasoned Salt, Pepper, & Paprika...Refrigerated for at least four hours, to produce "Scotland High School 'Wilt Your Kilt' Cheese Marinated Onions"...They really get great after a few days of marinating...(Don't go out in public after enjoying these)

(Sidebar: Scotland High School is in Scotland County, which has a large population of persons of Scottish descent. There are more Mc's and Mac's in the phone book than the Smiths and Joneses combined. The athletic teams are "The Fighting Scots"...and no one has come forward to protest that the nickname is ethnically or culturally insensitive. The award winning high school band wears authentic Kilts, imported from Scotland as its uniform. Hence, "Wilt Your Kilt".)

Quartered, Using the Microwave: Topped with Butter or Butter & Bar-B-Q Sauce or a Can of Cream of Mushroom Soup and microwaved until the onions are soft...not too long.

Gotta go. Need to make some more "Wilt Your Kilt" onions. I'm not planning to go out anywhere today or tomorrow and am not expecting company.

Exceptional People in a One-Horse Town, Part III

2006-05-24T06:27:00.000-05:00

This is the forth in a series of an unknown number of articles highlighting a little piece of Americana. The people to be featured in this series of blog postings are just a few of the exceptional people I have the honor of knowing in my home town.

III-A: John, a very exceptional person, is the subject of a previous posting: "My Best Friend John".

III-B: Walter is a gentleman. An honorable man. A good Christian man. For years the treasurer of his church. A devoted family man. About the only person, outside my family, who has access to a key to my house, and to the home of my mother as well.

A retired textile supervisor, he enjoys doing yardwork and gardening. It is now his vocation as well as his hobby. I was lucky to have found him shortly after I moved back to my home town. He was helping out a handful of people, doing yardwork, on a part-time basis then. Now, many years later, he still helps me keep my yard presentable to the neighborhood. His mastery of his skills is extraordinary. If Walter would plant a stick in the ground, it would sprout leaves and grow. His own yard is a showplace of a wide variety of shrubs, and flowering plants, most of which he started from clippings from the many yards he has tended over the years. These perenials are augmented yearly by the tasteful addition of a variety of annuals, giving even more color and flair. It has won the local Chamber of Commerce's "Yard of the Month" Award for its design and sheer beauty. Walter is not a selfish person. In my yard are many plants that the started at home, nurtured until they were ready for transplanting, and then brought them here and planted them in just the right spot. Walter has offered his expertise to the city. Many of the public parks feature beautiful azaleas lovingly planted by Walter over the years.

Walter's garden is a cornucopia of culinary delights that he gladly shares. Summer brings home-grown tomatoes (nothing like them), squash, cucumbers, and the piece de resistance, Silver Queen Corn, the best sweet white corn on the face of the earth. In the fall, after the first frost, of course, to ensure the maxminum sweetness of the harvest, we gather many heads of collards. These we prepare, enjoying some right away and freezing a large quantity for future use.

I love my time spent with Walter. He has interesting stories about growing up on a farm in a neighboring county. He still owns land there, farmed by others. He is a proud U.S. Army veteran, having served his country in North Africa and Italy in W.W. II. He has tales of these experiences also. He is also quite a social commentator, decrying the lack of work ethic and interest in education so prevalent in many of the youth in his home town. It mystifies him.

As evident from the fact that he is a veteran of W.W. II, Walter is no spring chicken. He is 83 years old, always reminding me that he was born on the eleventh day of the eleventh month, Armistace Day. His eyesight has failed some, due to glaucoma, such that he can no longer drive. He would gladly walk to my house to work, and has done so on occasions when I was detained at work, but it is my pleasure to pick him up and visit during the drive to my house. So I try to arrange my schedule to be able to get him. Working in the yard with him is a pleasure. But, his productivity falls off some, as does mine when we work together, because we both love to talk. And, talking does not get the job done.

Walter has slowed down some. He sometimes forgets to put the tools away when he leaves. Sometimes, due to his failing eyesight, he misses a patch of lawn when mowing or misses a weed or two when cleaning out the flower beds. No big deal. I have 20 years on him, so I pull out the mower or pull out the remaining weeds and finish the task that is 99+ % completed. He no longer works, "Thank you Jesus", when he deems it too hot or too cold for outdoor activity. But, he still gives me more than my money's worth every day he visits my yard.

So, as long as Walter wishes, he will be welcome to come to my yard and be reimbursed for his time, whether it is to pursue his passion for plants and yardwork, or simply sit back in a yard chair, drink some ice water or sweet iced tea, and enjoy the beauty of the years of his handiwork. For this exceptional man is more than a yardman, he is a dear friend, like part of the family.

Exceptional People in a One-Horse Town, Part II

2006-05-23T20:26:00.000-05:00

This is the third in a series of an unknown number of articles highlighting a little piece of Americana. As previously stated, "one must not necessarily live in a major metropolitan center to meet some really exceptional people. There may be a gazillion such people in such a city, but how many do you really get to know well. The people to be featured in a series of blogs are just a few of the exceptional people I have the honor of knowing in my home town".

Last Sunday afternoon I attended the senior organ recital by Clay, an organ student, who is a friend I have known all his life. The recital, or concert which is a better description, was magnificent. Clay played difficult classical compositions from the baroque and the romantic eras, featuring selections by Brahms and Bach. He appeared to play them with ease. He also showed his versitility by playing organ pieces by modern composers, such as Locklear, Professor of Organ at Wake Forest University. In addition, he sang "The Lord's Prayer", while accompanied by himself. He had previoulsy played and recorded the number on the organ, which has this feature so organist can record themselves and then listen to the performance, to check registration, tone, volume, etc.

Two weeks previously I had been in that same church sanctuary to witness Clay being awarded his Eagle Scout Award. For you see, Clay is not a college senior, but rather is just completing high school.

Clay has been studying the organ for only two years, taking lessons from a professor of organ music at nearby U.N.C. Pembroke. The professor had never taken on a high school student and was dubious. She handed him the "Red Book", the difficult, college level introduction to organ, and told him that when, and if, he mastered that, she would consider taking him on as a regular student. Most college organ students take a semester to finish the "Red Book", and some require a full year to do so. Clay had finished that introductory exercise in just two months. His professor said that students like Clay come along very rarely and is the type of student that keeps her wanting to keep on teaching. In her remarks she further stated that some of the compositions that Clay performed were those usually done by college senior or graduate school organ students.

Clay is a very gifted musician/entertainer. He has performed in numerous productions by his high school arts department and Encore Theater, the local little theater group. He regularly entertains at civic club functions and at Scotia Village, the Presbyterian Home facility located here.

But, he is not one dimensional. He is an honor student, having served as a class marshal at last year's high school graduation, chief marshal if I am not mistaken. He is ranked at the top of his class, and it will be interesting to see where he ranks at the upcoming graduation. He was also a member of the cross-country team.

Besides excelling in Boy Scouts, achieving its highest rank, he was also the recipient of the God & Country Award. At the same time he has been a member of and leader of the local 4-H chapter. Twice he has been to the national finals in an oratorical contest.

Following high school graduation Clay will be heading north, I almost choke writing this, to attend Harvard. Well, I guess that is better than staying in N.C. and attending that great Northern Institution of Higher Learning, Duke. At present he plans to study business with a goal of getting his MBA. But, he assured me he will continue his musical endeavors. I'm keeping the invitation to and the program of his senior recital. I am going to have them autographed. They could prove to be valuable some day.

Just proves that you do not have to be old to be an exceptional person in this One-Horse Town.

Exceptional People in a One-Horse Town, Part I-A

2006-05-21T07:09:00.000-05:00

As previously stated, "one must not necessarily live in a major metropolitan center to meet some really exceptional people. There may be a gazillion such people in such a city, but how many do you really get to know well. The people to be featured in a series of blogs are just a few of the exceptional people I have the honor of knowing in my home town".

There was no way to have two first entries. This second entry, my MOM, also deserves top billing. So let's call this Part I-A. Mom, ususally "Ma" for short, is a wonderfully exceptional genteel Southern Lady, unfortunately a dying breed. At age 89 she has slowed down a little, but not much. I have no fear that she will "rust out", she'll "wear out" some day, perhaps after me. (Sidebar: I had a good picture of Mom, but she would die of embarrassment if she thought I were publishing it on the internet.)

We have all seen those syrpy sweet, sentimental Mother's Day Cards, Birthday Cards for Mother, Christmas Cards for Mother, etc., and thought, who could these cards possibly be intended for...they are talking about the perfect mother. Right, they are talking about my Mom. She brought me into this world, after a difficult labor due to my breech presentation, but has never said, a la Bill Cosby, "I brought you into this world, and I can take you out". However, she did believe in discipline. Usually a stern look or a good "talkin to" sufficed. But there were rare occassions when she made me or my brother go out back and pick our own switches and then go to our rooms and wait for her. To be honest, the waiting was the worse part. The "switchings" were mild in comparison. When urgency demanded swift retribution, an old black rubber fly-swatter (which never touched a fly) skillfully applied to the back of our legs, was the method of choice.

While educated for a clerical position, most of her adult, married life has been spent as a homemaker, par excellence. She mastered all the required skills of homemaker and motherhood. She was, and still is, and excellent cook and baker. I still have the pleasure of eating a deliciously prepared lunch at her house three days a week, unless, of course, she is on an outing with "the girls" or at a church circle meeting. Her "Big Mama's pound cake" and her pimento cheese are in demand by all who have tasted them. Nothing's better than a slice of her pound cake, toasted with butter on it and served with a cup of coffee. Toasted pimento cheese sandwiches, "Yum". Every fall we cook up a large mess (about ten or so large heads) of collards and freeze enough to get us through the year. Goes great with pork roasts or Eastern North Carolina type Bar-B-Q.

When I attended the church kindergarten program, she taught there. That enabled her to get out of the house and keep an eye on me at the same time. Smart woman, she.

For a time, while I was in upper elementary, high school, and college, besides being a homemaker, she owned and operated a gift shop. She also did some interior decorating and directed no small number of weddings. She has quite an artistic flair, which has been lost on me. Her home is well appointed, welcoming, and comfortable. Her decoupage boxes and plaques, as well as her works of needlepoint, embroidery, and Carolina cross-stich are beauties to behold. Those which she has made and presented to me are among my most valued possessions.

Mom, while a homemaker, was not, and is not a homebody. She traveled to Europe twice, visiting first my brother and then me when we were stationed in Germany with the Army. She still loves to travel, 0ften going with my bride and me to the beach, to The Outer Banks for our yearly excursions, and to Chicago, Miami, and Austin to visit our children. Our plans are to include her on future trips to Costa Rica to see our son and a hoped-for Alaskan cruise. As noted, she has slowed down some, but I bet we can convince her to go when the time comes.

Mom is, or was, a talented musician. Often, upon entering her house, you hear music of many genres (No Rap, No Heavy Metal) being played on her CD stereo system. Before the arthritis got bad in her hands she enjoyed playing the piano. For years she sang in the church choir, and was the featured soprano solosit for many of those years. That reminds me of a humorous incident that occured when my brother and I, high school students at the time, also sang in the choir. We had just gotten some new light colored choir robes. It was a Communion Sunday. If Mom warned us once, she warned us a hundred times not to spill the grape juice on the new robes, saying, "it won't come out, you know". Well, she was so intent on keeping her eyes on us that she completely missed her mouth with her small portion of grape juice, and it ran down the front of her new choir robe. And, she was right, it did not come out. We have told that story many times over the years.

She was also active in the community. She served three terms on the local city school board. When my brother and I were Cub Scouts, she was a Den Mother. She is active in our church, having served as a deacon and as an elder. She still attends services regularly. She was awarded a lifetime membership in the Women of the Church for her service to that organization.

As stated above, she is a true genteel Southern Lady. She values her God, her faith, her family, and her friends, in that order, above all else. She studies her daily Bible lessons faithfully. Nothing brightens up her day as much as a visit, a call, or mail from one of her grandchildren. She now has 5 great-grandchildren to dote upon, one of which was named for her. She enjoys reading, mostly light novels, but also has a DVD player to use with her NetFlix movies. Her TV fare is eclectic, ranging from PBS, especially re-runs of "The Lawrence Welk Show" to "Cops"..."Watcha Gonna Do?...Watcha Gonna Do?"

She thinks the Sterling silver should be used at meals, instead of being kept hidden away in a silver chest somewhere. She enjoys a good Scotch and water (single-malt preferred), an occassional beer, and rarely, a glass of wine. But the only time I have ever seen her "drunk" was when she was recently put on a medication for neuropathic pain, and it knocked her for a loop. I noticed she was staggering around the yard as she and her 83-year-old yardman were out hand-clipping some shrubbery away from the side of the house in anticipation of a painter coming to paint the house. We stopped the medicine!

She believes that acts of kindness or gifts should be acknowledged with a timely hand-written thank-you note. (Sidebar: Reminds me of the joke about why Southern Ladies don't like group sex...They don't like writing all the thank-you notes.) The ones she writes are personal, like poetry, with handwriting that still mimics caligraphy. While she enjoys a good joke (clean and otherwise), and her friends keep her supplied with an ample supply gleaned from e-mail and the internet, I have never heard profanity pass her lips.

That's my "Ma". A True Southern Lady...whose kind, regretfully, are going or have "Gone with the Wind". Another exceptional person in my little town.

Exceptional People in a One-Horse Town, Part I

2006-05-19T20:17:00.000-05:00

One must not necessarily live in a major metropolitan center to meet some really exceptional people. There may be a gazillion such people in such a city, but how many do you really get to know well. The people to be featured in a series of blogs are just a few of the exceptional people I have the honor of knowing in my home town.

First, and foremost, there is my bride of almost 38 years. Putting up with me for that long is, in itself, a reason to be listed among the exceptional. She is a nurse. Appropriately enough she was a psychiatric nurse when we met. I guess that is what attracted her to me. She correctly diagnosed me as being just a little bit crazy. While I was in medical school she worked on the Clinical Research Unit of North Carolina Memorial Hospital, UNC, Chapel Hill. There she worked with kidney dialysis patients, when hemodialysis was in its infancy and the hemodialysis machines were the size of your average home washing machine. She was a member of the specialized medical team that took care of the first kidney transplant patients at NCMH-CH. She was a medical pioneer. During my internship/residency at Medical University of South Carolina, she continued her work on the dialysis unit and with kidney transplant patients there.

While I was in the Army in Germany for 3 years, when we went back to Chapel Hill for another year of residency, and after we moved back to my hometown, she pursued that most demanding and underappreciated occupation, being a full-time wife/mother, for several years. She also taught at our local church Kindergarten while our children were enrolled there. But, her main job was that of a housewife. However, her love for nursing beckoned, and she answered in a special way.

Over 20 years ago, she along with two other southern ladies had a dream, a vision…a Hospice Program for our community. No one around here had even heard of Hospice. Thus, twenty years ago the local not-for-profit Hospice was born on our back porch. She was the first, and for a period of time, the only Hospice employee (nurse, administrator, secretary, etc.). With the help of a small cadre of volunteers, United Way funding, and individual donations of money and second-hand office equipment, she made it go. Remember, these were the days prior to insurance and Medicare reimbursement for hospice services. The program was completely dependent on charitable contributions. Hospice had its infancy in a single upstairs room in our church’s Sunday school building and in the back of her station wagon.

Under her leadership and nurture as Executive Director, that single-employee enterprise has grown to a very successful not-for-profit Hospice now in competition with the newcomers, the for-profit Hospices. Its programs and services are available to people in need regardless of race, creed, religious preferences, or ability to pay. It now has over 60 employees, including nurses, a physician consultant, nurse's aides, psychologists, social workers, a chaplain, bereavement counselors, as well as the support, clerical, and administrative personnel. That once small cadre of volunteers now numbers in the hundreds. Continued local financial support from the community, much in the form of memorials and honorariums and support from the United Way, coupled with reimbursement for services in some cases, has enabled the Hospice program to offer new and expanded services. Each summer Camp Spinoza is conducted for children who have experienced the loss of a loved one. Counselors and social workers go to schools after tragic events. Speakers forums dealing with end of life issues are conducted. All the while extraordinary patient care continues on a day-to-day basis. Her Hospice program now serves our community as well as several surrounding counties in North and South Carolina, with an average daily census of over 100 patients. "HOSPICE CARES...It's not about dying, it's about living."

Hospice now occupies its own campus, Eaton Place (Named for Eaton Corporation whose Golf Pride Golf Grip Division is located here and is the major sponsor of the annual Hospice Golf Tournament-more later). On campus are the main Hospice office building and the recently completed six-bed Hospice Inpatient Unit, Morrison Manor.

All these facilities were fully funded before the groundbreakings. How? Generous local financial support from a grateful community. Foundation grants. And, the annual Eaton/Hospice Golf Tournament. That charity tournament alone has raised over 2 million dollars for the Hospice program over the last 20 years. This year's total exceeded $185,000. (The history of that golf tournament and the people who have made it succesful is worthy of a book, not simply a blog entry)

All this has been accomplished under the leadership of my bride, who still finds time for some good old-fashioned bedside nursing, wifery, and motherhood.

Nurse. Medical pioneer. Visionary. Administrator. Fund raiser. Wife. Mother. Dedicated daughter. Homemaker. Quite a remarkable person. And she lives in our little town. In fact, she lives right here. Lucky me.

Crab/Shrimp Boil...As Promised by Kel de Texas

2006-05-17T16:17:00.000-05:00

Must make some things completely clear from the beginning:

(1) When it comes to Southern Cooking, Soul Food and Country Cooking are synonymous. This fact may not be clear to those of you born and raised north of the Mason-Dixon line. Crab Boils, Shrimp Boils, Crawfish Boils, etc. have been favorites along the Southern coasts for years. Those critters don't know the ehnicity of the boilers.

(2) When I say "Shrimp/Crab Boil", I really mean Shrimp/Crableg boil, utilizing the long legs of crabs not really found in the South. The succulent meat of the indigenous blue crab, especially the backfin portion, is much too fine to be wasted in this simple recipe. They deserve their own entree or crab salad.

(3) In preparing this meal, as with most things in life, timing is most important. In fact, I have a friend who for years has had the vanity car tag "TYMING", as well as the e-mail address tyming@... to emphasise this important point. Different ingredients require different cooking times. Put all the the ingredients in the pot at one time and risk some items being under cooked (the potatoes) while others (especially the shrimp) are tough as shoe leather.

So let's begin:

For you who insist on adulterating this dish with Kilbasa Sausage, I have included the instructions for this, although I do not recommend its inclusion.

Ingredients: 1 bag of Zatarain's Crawfish, Shrimp & Crab Boil (Old Bay Seasoning for Seafood is a suitable substitute) ; Salt per box instructions; Kilbasa Sausage, one-two links / person (optional); Corn on the cob (1/2 to 1 ear /person); Shrimp (1/2 lb. per person) - even when we are at the beach we purchase the E-Z peel frozen Shrimp - 21 to 30 count per lb. - makes life much simpler; Crab legs (1 cluster / person); New potatoes [Oh where is Dan Quayle when I really need him?] (4 - 5 / person). Of course, you may increase amounts if you are feeding a bunch of gluttons; Large pot with 1 to 1 & 1/2 qt. water.

Add seasoning to water. Bring to a rolling boil. Salt per box instructions.

Time: 0:00 - W/ Kilbasa add them................W/O Kilbasa

0:10 - Add New Potatoes and gently boil....................0:00

0:30 - Add Crab Legs.....................................................0:20

0:42 - Add Corn on the Cob..........................................0:32

0:47 - Add Shrimp..........................................................0:37

0:50 - Remove from Heat/Steep..................................0:40

0:55 - Serve Hot.............................................................0:45

Be sure to have Texas Pete or generic hot sauce available for patrons.

Need lots of napkins, or better yet, rolls of paper towels.

Serve with cole slaw, cornbread (preferably fried Hushpuppies) & Sweet Iced Tea.

Dessert: Banna Pudding

It may not be Epicurean, but it sure is good.

SAD...OH, SO SAD!

2006-05-17T07:51:00.000-05:00

Was channel surfing Monday night, looking for one of my favorite shows, anything with "Law & Order" in the title. Went to USA network, hoping to catch a rerun of "Law & Order - SVU". What should I behold, but the aged Terry Funk and Mick Foley going at it on "WWE's Monday Night Raw". It was pitiful to watch, so I shut down the tube and went back to the internet. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not an elitist. There was a time I enjoyed professional "rastlin" and could name most of the participants.

Back in the mid-late 1970's, when I was a young Jaycee, the club used to offer the local quarterly "fine arts series", featuring stars of the old, Charlotte, N.C. based, Jim Crockett, Jr.'s NWA (National Wrestling Alliance) franchise. These events were held at the high school football field, no matter the weather. They were usually scheduled around the first of the month to coincide with the government checks. Ensured a large gate. My task at these functions was to meet and greet the wrestlers and keep them company until it was their time to perform...and I was told by them it was a performance, but an athletic one. I surmised as much when I saw sworn enemies using the same dressing room and engaged in friendly conversations.

Back in those days the wrestlers traveled by car, but Big Cars. I fondly remember sitting in those cars or vans talking with the wrestlers. I met The Nature Boy, Ric Flair, Ricky Steamboat, and Black Jack Mulligan, among others. Those guys went out there and put on a show. They rastled, not talked. The shows started on time and ended exactly on time. What choreography. The locals got their money's worth. Those were the days.

Now the WWE is big business. Cable TV. Pay-for-View mega events. More talk than wrestling. More plots than the soap operas. More skin than vintage editions of Playboy (but not Penthouse). More gratuitous violence than gang warfare. I have completely lost interest. It's painful to imagine men my age up there in the ring trying to strut their stuff. Even the once-great Nature Boy (Picture credit: Scott Pon) is trying to hold on. But now, when I happen upon the WWE and see Ric Flair, the sight I behold is an out-of-shape older man who "whoops" and talks a lot, "styles and profiles", but wrestles very little and very ineffectively. SAD!

The only good thing to come out of the WWE lately is the comely Stacy Keibler, who performed so well on "Dancing with the Stars". What looks. What dancing talent. What legs. She was robbed. I did not even know she had been in the WWE's stable. I never saw her there. If I had, you better believe I would have remembered. I'm not that old, yet.

Much the same can be said about another great Southern institution that has gone big time and outgrown its pants, NASCAR. While abandoning its Southern heritage in the search of the almighty dollar, it has lost its soul. Smaller Southern tracks, the birth place of stock car racing, with proud histories have been left in favor of larger cookie-cutter speedways near large metropolitan centers. Real racing personalities have been replaced by bland "young guns" whom are hard to differentiate. Skillful, although sometimes aggressive, driving used to win a race. Now it earns a trip to the "penalty box" on pit row and later a meeting in the Chairman's office, coupled with a fine. Again, I have pretty much lost interest. I'm just glad that the late, great Intimidator, Dale Earnhardt, is not witness to any of this. SAD!

"ERSATZ?...What the...

2006-05-16T21:38:00.000-05:00

My friend Stratocade has been actively participating in that grand old pastime of mental masturbation, attempting to decide what he wants to be when he grows up and where he wants to do it. One of his latest blogs, inspired by a WSJ article, seems to indicate that the young man has come to the realizations that (1) the grass is not always greener on the other side of the fence and/or (2) one does not always appreciate what one has until one contemplates giving it all up for the unknown (probably two ways of saying the same thing)...maturation at work here.

The aforementioned article, "The Ersatz Urban Renaissance" got me to thinking. No, not the article, but the title. First, what is "ersatz"? How do you pronounce it? What does it mean?This is not a word one encounters in conversation in rural North Carolina every day. I have seen it in print and told myself I would look it up. But since I could usually get the gist of what I was reading without actually knowing what "ersatz" meant, I never looked it up, until today.

According to Wikipedia:
"Ersatz is a German word literally meaning substitute or replacement. Although ersatz is used only as an adjective in English, Ersatz can function in German either as a noun on its own, or as an adjective in compound nouns such as Ersatzteile (spare parts) or Ersatzspieler (substitute player). While the English term often implies that the substitution is of unsatisfactory or inferior quality, this connotation does not necessarily exist in the German context."

I'm so glad to know that. I can't wait to find the opportunity to slip it into conversation at church, or better yet, at the weekly Rotary Club meeting. But, of course I can't. I still do not know how to pronounce it. Did it keep it's German flavor, or has it been Anglicized, or bastardized, as has it's meaning in English.

But I guess that Stratocade, being the man of the world that he is, did not encounter the problem that stumped this old country doc. Or he simply skipped over the title, read and digested the article and seems to have made a decision concerning his future.

Good luck to him. May he continue to globe-hop for fun and pleasure, not for work.

Masturbation, at least the mental type, can be fruitful (pun intended).

"Turn Out the Lights, The Party's (Wedding's) Over"

2006-05-15T06:43:00.000-05:00

Glad I rested Friday night. (Ref: Previous entry) The wedding was better than advertised. Held at The Village Chapel in Pinehurst (a misnomer if one ever existed) on a beautiful sunny spring evening, it was one of those special occasions one will long remember. The ceremony, for lack of a better description, was formal "High Episcopalian", resplendent with Crucifer, Flag Bearer, Acolytes, Numerous Bridesmaids & Groomsmen, Flower Girls, and Ring Bearers.

MUSIC:
- Prelude music provided by The Capital String Ensemble, a string quintet, was worthy of a concert at Carnegie Hall.
- Trumpeter's renditions of Bach's "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring", Mouret's "Rondeau", Clarke's "Trumpet Voluntary", & Purcell's "Trumpet Tune" were the best I have ever heard.
- Widor's "Toccata from Fifth Symphony" masterfully played on the grand pipe organ was superb.
- Having the congregation of guests sing a Processional Hymn, "Lift High the Cross", was a unique touch...something I had not witnessed at previous weddings.
- Hymn, "Surely the Presence of the Lord is in this Place", preceding the vows was apropos the setting.

SOMETHINGS NEW TO ME, THAT I LIKED:
- The groom, a lifelong friend of my family, escorted his mother to her seat.
- The groom having his father and his brother as best men.
- The groom processing with the wedding party, not just appearing from a door at the front of the church.
- The aforementioned Processional Hymn.
- Friends, as Readers of the selected Scripture passages (Proverbs 3:1-6 & Colossians 3:12-17)
- The vows: "...For better or worse...till one of us lays the other in the arms of the Lord".
- Notice in the Bulletin: "***Please, no applause". The whole event was not only a wedding ceremony, but a reverent worship service, just as it should have been.

"SURELY THE PRESENCE OF THE LORD WAS IN THAT PLACE". May He continue to be with the young couple as they continue their lives together as one.

HINTS: You Know You are an Old Fart When...

2006-05-12T17:46:00.000-05:00

(1) There is a big wedding. I mean a three-day event in our one-horse town. Actually, the affair is too big for here and is being held just up the road in the resort village of Pinehurst (can you say U.S. Open Tournament).

(2) As friends of the family, we had the pleasure of being one of the hosts of hosts for a dinner/dance held at the Country Club of North Carolina (see "High Cotton" here) last night. It was a good party, even if I do say so myself. And, I can say so myself, since I did nothing to make it a success except to make my financial contribution to the affair. First Hint: Thought the band was too loud.

(3) After dinner enjoyed a delicious cup of coffee. Second Hint: I inquired if it were decaf. It wasn't.

(4) Stayed to the end, but not real late. In fact the bridal party went bar-hopping after the dance. Third Hint: I did not even consider going anywhere but home.

(5) Got home, guess the caffine had kicked in. Blogged a while...watched DVD movie...looked at ceiling for hours. Fourth Hint: I could not imagine what was keeping me awake.

(6) Woke up at usual time this am. Fifth Hint: Old Farts don't sleep in, even when they can.

(7) Been tired all day. So tired that have begged off party #2 tonight (even though it is being held at the shrine...The Pinehurst Resort) so I'll be ready for the main event tomorrow night. Sixth Hint: Young people look for an excuse to party and would never skip one. Final Hint and the Exception Proves the Rule: Seniors, in general, do not know or want to acknowledge their limitations.

Bloggers' Attention Deficit

2006-05-11T09:49:00.000-05:00

General observation, and such observations are often erroneous.

The shorter the blog entry, the more comments. Is this an indication that bloggers, again in general, have Attention Deficit Disorder (with or without Hyperactivity)?

This short entry will test that hypothesis.

Everyone Wants to get to Heaven, But...

2006-05-08T22:02:00.000-05:00

I heard a sermon by our minister Neal Carter a couple of weeks ago. The Gospel text that Sunday was Mark 8: 27-38. I begin with verse 31:

31Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. 32He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. 33But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” 34He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 35For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. 36For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? 37Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? 38Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”

Part of the sermon contained the following:

"John Fischer once wrote this song:

You want to have wisdom Without making mistakes
You want to have money Without the work that it takes
You want to be loved But you don’t want the heartaches

Everyone wants to get to heaven but nobody wants to die

You want to be forgiven without taking the blame
You want to eat forbidden fruit without leaving a stain
You want the glory but you don’t want the shame

Everyone wants to get to heaven but nobody wants to die

You want to be a winner without taking a loss
You want to be a disciple without counting the cost
Want to follow Jesus but you don’t want to go to the cross

Everyone wants to get to heaven but nobody wants to die."

Throughout the days that have followed my hearing that scripture reading and that sermon, the message of that Gospel and the words of that song have intruded upon my mind on several occassions. And, that ain't a bad thing at all.

"Barbershop"...The Sequel

2006-05-04T19:57:00.000-05:00

It's 9:00 pm, and I just got back from the barbershop. I was in and out in no time. There was no waiting. In fact there is never any waiting at this barbershop. I can get a haircut any time I so desire 24 hours a day, seven days a week. The barber is a most congenial fellow. He is eager to please. He always cuts my hair just the way I want it, and he refuses any pay for his labor. The only drawback is that he remains completely quiet during the haircut. No idle barbershop gossip nor sports talk nor earth-shattering political comments nor jokes. Let me explain:

The barbershop is in my bathroom. I am the barber. I figured that if barbers of old could be doctors (or at least surgeons... and there is a difference), then a semi-retired physician could be a barber. I was pushed in this direction by several simultaneous events: (1) Bubba (no kidding), my barber since my high school days, retired. (2) There was no other barber in town whom I wanted to patronize. (3) Bubba's former partner, who had cut my hair in Bubba's absence, left town and opened a barbershop about 7 miles away. Going to his shop and waiting would entail more time than I wanted to invest in a simple haircut. (4) My hair, or what is left of it, is no great challenge. (5) My young colleagues and others have adopted the "shaved" head or close- cropped hair styles. (6) No matter what my hair style, I will not resemble a young Paul Newman or Robert Redford. No need for a hair stylist here.

Sidebar: It's amazing how many men now patronize Hair Stylist (previously known as Beauticians) in Hair Salons (previoulsy known as Beauty Parlors). The barberhop, that once great male bastion has almost disappeared from the scene.

I decided to go with the close-cropped hair style. I had previously sworn to myself that I would never adopt the "comb-over" style, in which what little hair remains on the head is allowed to grow to 12 - 24 inches in length and then combed back and forth over the head to cover the male pattern of baldness.

So I went to the local WalMart and bought the least expensive home haircutting kit (but mine is the 10-piece, not the 8-piece model pictured). I now simply attach the 3/8" comb attachment and cut the sides and back. Then I use the 1/8" comb attachment to cut the top. Then my bride kindly trims and shaves the back of my neck...a true labor of and proof of love. The results are most satisfying. Even my children find no fault with the new "do".

I now get a haircut when I want it. I save time. And, I save money. But, I still miss Bubba and the comraderie of the barbershop.

A Night with "The Possum"

2006-05-01T21:24:00.000-05:00

Last night I was in "Hog Heaven" or should I say "Possum Heaven". Together with my brother and two other friends, I had the distinct pleasure of attending a concert by the great George Jones, "The Possum". The above picture was taken with my old "no-frills" 2.0 Mega Pixels digital camera without any telephoto enhancement. I was seated in the second row, almost center stage. I was that close to the country music legend.

It was a pleasure to see and hear a legend. I have been a George Jones fan for over half my life. I joined his fan club just for the chance to meet him and shake his hand. At the brief "Meet and Greet" before he took the stage I told Mr. Jones that 35 year ago I had had the privilege of seeing him perform for the first time with the late, great Tammy Wynette (his former wife and duet partner) in Charleston, S.C. His reply, "There's been a lot of water under that bridge". As anyone who is even vaguely familiar with the life and career of George Jones realizes, this comment ranks right up there with the understatements of the ages.

It was amazing to see and hear an entertainer of his age (74), who has been performing for 50 years and has often been ridden hard and put away wet, and who only a week or so ago was hospitalized for pneumonia, give such a memorable performance. While at times appearing somewhat short of breath due to his recent illness, which he acknowledged, stating that he was still on medication, his voice was clearly "George". What a gusty trooper, holding center stage for over an hour and a half, reeling off hit after hit. He is credited with over 160 hit recordings so he could not possibly sing them all. But, he managed to give a good sampling of his entire career from "Why, Baby, Why?" to "Choices". He actually seemed to get stronger as the program progressed. Maybe he fed off the enthusiasm of the audience.

The audience, I might add, was composed of people of all ages. My generation was well represented. But, there were many attendees who appeared of my parents' age. Surprisingly, there were a lot, and I mean a lot, of young folks there who were not even born the last time George fell off the wagon. He will be remembered by many long after he stops performing and recording.

George Jones, the living legend, once known as "No Show Jones" during his days of "wine and roses" was not a "no show". He came, he sang, and he conquered. "Hail to 'The Possum'".

"The Best..."

2006-04-27T12:30:00.000-05:00

Kel de Texas has referenced “Best Gay Blogs” on a couple of occasions. I guess that is a website that features a list of happy, uplifting, funny, blogs, correct? That Kel is one happy, funny guy, most of the time-when he is not being “hotheaded”, so I knew he would be listed there.

Believe it or not, in our Pediatric office we have a little book entitled “The Pediatric Book of Lists – A Primer of Differential Diagnosis in Pediatrics”. I think that same principal could be extrapolated to the internet.

But, I’m not too good at “Googling”. I put in my search request, click on “Search” and get 5,275,142 replies, listed 10 to a page. So I have not been able to ascertain if there are other such "Best" websites. Is there a “Best Sad Blogs”? A “Best Sports Blogs”? A “Best Medical Blogs”? A “Best Urban Blogs”? A “Best Black Blogs”? A “Best Redneck Blogs”? A “Best ‘You Name It’ Blogs”? etc. The mere scope boggles the mind.

If I could compile such a list I could start a website, “The Best List of the Best Blogs”. (No, actually I could not, because I can’t understand HTML). It would be similar to the coffee table book Kramer envisioned on “Seinfeld”, “The Coffee Table Book of Coffee Table Books” listing all the coffee table books available on the market.

Just a thought.

Our Miss Em

2006-04-26T21:06:00.000-05:00

Have blogged about my Number-One Son, my bride, and even "My Best Friend John". Now it is time to introduce my Number-One Daughter, Miss Em. I really do not know where to start. I'll skip all the part about her early years. That would just be a bunch of parental bragging. But it's not just bragging if it's the truth. I'll concentrate on the last few years.

My bride and I have always strived to allow our children to live their own lives once they attained adulthood. We figured we had done our duty as parents, although far from perfect parents, I may add. Now it is time to allow them to try their wings. We knew that there would be trials and tribulations, successes and failures, encountered along the way. At times it has not been easy to sit back and observe, speaking up only when requested to do so, but this approach has proven the right one for both our children.

Miss Em, upon graduation form Wake Forest with a degree in Psychology but not wanting to pursue an advanced degree in that field, decided to move to the Windy City to seek her fortune in the world of stand-up comedy. She really has a knack for comedy. What better place to scratch that itch than the home of "Second City". While looking into this possible career, she worked as a saleperson and later as a waitress.

When she realized that the world of comedy was not in her future, she reverted back to an earlier desire, a career in law enforcement. In high school she had expressed an interest in becoming an FBI or a Secret Service agent. In her job as a waitress she had encountered many police officers who told her about law enforcement and the Chicago Police Academy. Had it not been for the fact that a class at the academy had just started and the next one would be started only when there was the need for more police officers, she would have enrolled and would now probably be a member of Chicago's finest. While I could not picture my little Miss Em packing heat and patrolling the streets of south Chicago (and the idea of it really scared the hell out of me) I kept silent. With time, her desire to join the police force subsided.

While waitressing and bartending she somehow met some Physical Therapist and was intrigued by what she heard about that profession. Having a physician for a father and a nurse for a mother, she was not a stranger to the healing arts. The more she heard, the more she became convinced that this was her true calling in life. But answering this call required much determination and hard work. As a psych major, her transcript lacked some basic science courses such as chemistry, biology, and physics which were all required as prerequisites for admission to Physical Therapy programs.

So for the past couple of years she has worked to support herself while taking the required courses to allow her to apply to Physical Therapy Schools. That in itself was not an easy matter. Often, because she was not a "degree-seeking student", she was frozen out of these basic science courses by undergraduates. This required her to take different courses at various institutions of higher learning in Chicago to complete her transcript. I'll just say that physics is not her forte. But she persevered and is now finishing her final physics class. At the same time she was performing her necessary volunteer hours in a Physical Therapy clinic. These hours are required by all schools of Physical Therapy. She did such a good job at the clinic that she was able to secure a position as a Physical Therapy Assistant, thus leaving the world of waitressing that had served her so well during her search for herself. This new employment also offers her the chance to get valuable experience in her chosen profession.

The next challenge was to get into a school of Physical Therapy, where the competition is fierce. It was during this process that our Miss Em met initial failure for the first time in her life. She was put on the waiting list at her first choice. A school back home in North Carolina rejected her application, most probably because as a resident of Illinois, she fell in the minority out-of-state pool of applicants. Still, the rejection hurt, and we suffered along with her. She was accepted by another school, but she decided not to enroll there, due largely to the misspelled words in and wrong name on the letter of acceptance (although she was repeatedly assured in later communications that she had indeed been accepted). She said she would rather wait a year and re-apply than go to a school she did not respect.

Then she got into a program that she respected, but that would require a long, relative expensive, public transportation two-way commute each day. Chicago winters can be brutal. She accepted a position there, but had not actually enrolled. Then she was informed earlier this week that she had been moved from the waiting list and had been accepted at her first choice school. Isn't that what a waiting list is, after all? Well now, except for her worrying about what the people at the other school will think now that she is backing out to attend her first choice, all is well. The trip to this school is a mere fifteen minutes, and public transportation passes are provided by the school. She will also be covered by the student health insurance program, not a small matter in itself. It seems now that God is in His Heaven and all is right with the world.

“All things come round to him who will but wait.”
Tales of a Wayside Inn. Part i. The Student’s Tale.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882)

Some truth here. But one cannot just passively wait. One must work diligently while one waits. That's what our Miss Em did, and things have "come round" to her.

Thanks, Kel de Texas...de S.F.

2006-04-26T20:51:00.000-05:00

Plagarism: The Sincerest Form of Flattery

I AM: beginning to figure out what being a senior citizen and being semi-retired are all about and am enjoying it.
I WISH: I had taken better care of myself as a younger man.
I HATE: stupidity, cause there ain't no cure for stupid!
I MISS: my kids.
I HEAR: everything, one of the signs of ADHD
I WONDER: if this life is really all there is to it.
I REGRET: ever having started smoking.
I AM NOT: interested in the least what celebrities think about or say about serious subjects.
I DANCE: the Shag.
I SING: bass in the church choir.
I CRY: at the loss of a loved one.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: tactful.
I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: not much.
I WRITE: this blog, e-mails, and notes to friends who are sick or experiencing a personal loss or hardship.
I CONFUSE: myself at times.
I NEED: to lose weight.
I SHOULD: stop smoking, again.
I START: many little projects, there’s that ADHD again.
I FINISH: most of the projects in one fashion or another, but not necessarily in the order they were started.
I TAG: no, I don’t

Uncivil Communication

2006-04-25T21:17:00.000-05:00

The telephone. That wonderful invention of Alexander Graham Bell which revolutionized mass communication has, in the twenty-first century, become emblematic of our ever-increasing loss of civility.

To wit: (1) "Call Waiting" One is engaged in conversation with another on the telephone. In the middle of said conversation, one of the parties interrupts, saying, "Would you wait a minute, I have another call coming in", and then often, without waiting for a reply, the line goes dead. How arrogant. How impolite. My usual modus operandi is to either reply, "Only if that call is more important than this one", or, if not given the chance to reply, I simply hang up.

(2) The cell phone. Marvelous invention, no doubt. Instant communication, anywhere, anytime. And therein lies the problem. The ubiquitous cell phone is used anywhere, anytime. In stores and malls. In restaurants. In public restrooms. In doctors' offices, even in the exam rooms during the care of patients. Their annoying rings, often meant to mimic some great musical composition, are often heard in church services and funerals. Their use is often intrusive upon other individuals within earshot. And, with the volume of some such conversations, earshot can be quite a distance. Furthermore, the content of these conversations, which should be private matters, are often offensive and profane in content. Cell phone users seem oblivious to their immediate environment and their encroachment upon other persons' space.

Oh for the days of BUtterfield 8 and CRestview 6, phone booths, and home phones without all the bells and whistles. A more simple time, for sure. But a more civil time too, as far as phone etiquette is concerned.

HTML from HELL

2006-04-24T13:53:00.000-05:00

OK, OK, so I am a senior citizen. So I have a cap with "CRS" for "Can't Remember S---" (Stuff). So I have an occassional senior moment. I still consider myself pretty intelligent. However, I have met my intellectual Waterloo, HTML.

Our local church has launched a webite, hasn't everyone? Our Pediatric clinic is also launching one, but it is still a work in progress, so no link here. This is a form of advertising, I know. A part of me, being the dinosaur that I am, remains against such advertising on behalf of churches and physicians. Another part of me is intigued by the whole thing. I wanted to see how it is done. How does one create a website? How does one launch a website? How does one obtain a domain?

So I asked Roberto, the friendly webmaster of both websites, if I could learn the basics so that I could help keep the sites up to date. I explained to him that I did not have a clue, but that I did use a computer in the good old days of DOS. I even toyed with, but did not master, BASIC. "No problem," he said. I could easily learn HTML online. He referred me to a website, saying that I could progress at my own pace. My pace turned into a standstill. The website itself was overwhelming in itself. Then when he told me how to get to the HTML section, I found it just as perplexing. So many symbols for a simple entry. I'll never keep them straight.

I have Spanish to learn for our planned trip to Costa Rica. Spanish is easier than HTML. I have to complete my yearly Continuing Education Credits to keep my medical license. Medical stuff is easier to me than either Spanish or HTML. Even in a semi-retired state, I have just so much time to sit in front of a computer screen learning stuff. So unless I find "HTML for Dummies", I think my pseudo webmaster days are over.

Austin Remembered, Fondly

2006-04-19T21:45:00.000-05:00

As mentioned in previous posting "Austin on My Mind" my bride and I spent several days in Austin with Number-One Son as he prepared to vacate his apartment, put most of his belongings in a storage unit, organize his other belongings so he could carry them with him to Costa Rica and thus avoid the 50% tariff on imported goods, get his various important papers and documents organized for us to take home for safe keeping, and lastly bid a fond farewell for a year (or a week, depending on how you looked at it) to his wonderful group of friends. It was a wonderful three days. Some observations:

1. Car rental and pick-up at the airport is very convenient. No shuttle bus.
2. Tex-Mex at Chuy's as delicious as I remembered.
3. A SUV is almost as good as a pick up truck when moving boxes and small items, but a pick up truck is necessary for furnuiture. Thanks to a friend, a pickup was available.
4. Books and framed pictures are heavy. They, because of their various sizes, are hard to pack.
5. Boxes purchased for storage are better than saved boxes from the liquor store.
6. A roll of packing tape goes a long way, but don't lose the end, or you may not get it unstuck.
7. When it comes to organization, cleaning and packing, Mom knows best.
8. A Mom helping her son has more energy than a lioness protecting her young.
9. A 10' X 10' storage unit holds a lot of stuff.
10. Everything in Austin is a ten minute trip according to Number-One Son. Not so.
11. When it comes to good hotel accomodations in a busy, crowded city, it is definitely who you know.
12. The Texas relays the Urban celebration brought a bunch of people to Austin. Doesn't anyone go to church on Palm Sunday anymore?
13. Traffic in Austin is not small town.
14. Using a vacuum cleaner and a shrink wrap storage bag, a total bed set (pillows, coverlet, bedspread, etc) can be reduced to a package about 3' x 3' x 2". Tight and compacted and heavy.
Clothes can be similarly shrunk and stored in smaller bags.
15. The largest suitcase available (Ht. + Length+ Depth = 62") holds a lot of stuff, even more when many items are shrink wrapped. They can easily hold in excess of 100#.
16. Indian cuisine is OK, but I prefer Tex-Mex and Bar-B-Q, both eastern North Carolina and Texas styles.
17. Number-One Son was blessed in Austin with a wonderful group of friends. We enjoyed our evening with them immensely. As careers tend to send them to different parts of the country and the world, we hope they stay close. Funny how their paths seem to cross and recross over the years.
18. There is a 4 o'clock am when one is not on call, and flights do leave Austin at 6:30 am.
19. A taxi is the way to get to the airport at 5:00 am.
20. A post-script: Real Estate in Austin is obscene.

Austin, I enjoyed you. I hope Number-One Son relocates to Austin one day so I have a good reason to return to you. If not I may return anyway.

No Hablo, Yet

2006-04-19T20:07:00.000-05:00

Number-One Son is now to be living and working in Costa Rica for a year, or so it seems. I have had several people tell me that they have visited there and it was a wonderful experience. Part of the country has been described as "unspoiled" and/or "exotic". It has also been termed "third worldly". The Pacific coast is supposedly beautiful. The lush forest called "enchanting".

Number-One son has rented a three bedroom home and has extended an invitation to us, me and my bride, to come to visit him while he is living in San Jose. There are direct flights from Charlotte to San Jose every day, and I have some frequent flyer points to use (first class is all I can find, so why not?) so we will definitely try to get down to Costa Rica at least once in the next year. I am now officially semi-retired, and my bride can use vacation time or unpaid leave, if necessary, to make the trip. With free flights and a place to stay, we would be crazy to pass up the opportunity. The biggest expense will be gas to and from Charlotte and long-term parking at the airport. I have always thought of myself as a pretty self-reliant person, but Number-One Son will see I can learn to mooch with the best of them. Old dogs can learn new tricks, especially if they are very advantageous to moi. But isn't that French? No help here.

I need another new trick. I need Espanol. (My keyboard doesn't have the n with the ~ over it). I took Spanish for two years in high school and two years in college, but that was in a former life. My spoken Spanish was so bad that my college professor would not let me answer questions in Spanish. And mind you, this was supposedly advanced Spanish literature course where no English was allowed. I would start to answer a question in Spanish, and Dr. Causey would put his hands over his ears and say, "En Ingles, Senor, en Ingles, por favor". My situation is further complicated by the fact that I lived in Germany for three years while in the Army and learned enough barn yard German to get by. Now when I attempt to speak Spanish to some of my Spanish-speaking patients and their parents I see a wierd look on their faces. I go through what I just said to them, and it is a combination of English, a little German, and poor Spanish. No wonder they "no comprendo" what I said.

So I searched the web and found a Spanish program that seems to meet my needs. I was able to sample some of the lessons online, liked what I saw, so I bit the bullet and orderd the whole package. I plan to dedicate several hours a week in the pursuit of learning conversational Spanish before our sojourn to Central America. Hope in future blogs I can state, "Hablo Espanol muy bien, y usted?" Adios, Hasta luego, and Bis Spater (Opps, there is that German again.)

Austin on my Mind

2006-04-05T17:33:00.000-05:00

Not that anyone is interested or really cares, but my bride and I are flying to Austin, Texas tomorrow to see my Number One Son before he "moves" to Costa Rica to advance his career in the interactive internet advertising world. To be perfectly honest, I really do not know or understand exactly what he does, but it seems that his talents are in demand. He has no problem in finding gainful employment. I guess it is a generational thing.

The reason I said "moves" instead of moves is for the simple reason that he said he would be in Costa Rica, now get this, for one week...that's right one week, before he has to fly back to Austin for business. He also has said that he will have to come back to the good ole US of A about once a month to check in with the home office. The way I figure it, he will have to sign a three-year deal to be out of country long enough to reap the tax benefits.

As I said before, I do not really understand exactly what it is that he does. But, I do know that it has to do with the internet. I also know that I can correspond with people in Scotland via e-mail. So I assume that the internet is an international phenomenon. So, why can't my Number One Son just as well do his internet thing in Austin as well as he can do it in Costa Rica? Furtermore, why can't he just work at home. If he has a laptop he has a virtual office. Could he not work from the beach, the mountains, his original home in N.C., a bar, Internet Cafes, Mickey-D's, etc. The possibilities are limitless.

Do these companies just like to spend money on international flights and hotels?

As I said in the beginning, probably no one will note this because, according to comments received, the Blogosphere is an empty, empty place.

Growing One's Faith...A Mountain Top Experience

2006-04-03T21:03:00.000-05:00

Just got home from church where our men's book study group had the pleasure of reading, studying, and reviewing A Life of Search (excerpts) by D. Elton Trueblood (1900-1994). I am a Christian. But, I have a questioning faith, and Dr. Trueblood answered many of these questions concerning faith, which he explains must be a "Reasonable Faith".

Dr. Trueblood was a Quaker. While Quakers are known as "Friends" he preferred the name "Seekers". The book was dedicated "To Seekers Everywhere". The Prologue is titled Seek and You Will Find...

Dr. Trueblood has written a very readable little book, less than 100 pages, that is full of "pearls". If you start to underline or highlight things that grab you, you will run out of highlighter before you finish the little book.

Anyone who is interested in the least in reason & religion, Christianity, and philosophy will find this a meaningful read. To quote Dr. Trueblood, "Though reason alone may not enable persons to find God, it can do wonders in enabling them to surmount barriers to the achievement of an examined faith".

Topics presented in the five chapters are the following: (1) A Reasonable Faith for Today, (2) The Importance of Christ, (3) The Necessity of the Church, (4) A Wholistic Faith, and (5) The Future of Christianity.

If you have a couple of hours to expand your horizons, spend them with Dr. Trueblood. You will be glad you did.

Children - Love Them and Leave Them

2006-03-25T10:25:00.000-05:00

Last weekend I attended the Scottish Heritage Weekend activities at St. Andrews Presbyterian College. A highlight of the weekend was the Friday night performance by the award-winning St. Andrews Pipe Band. It was held indoors in a rather small theater. The program also featured two singers with excellent voices. The program was outstanding.

There was only one problem. In attendance were several very young children, whose constant chatter, then fussing and crying, interfered with the enjoyment of the program. It was not so bad when the bagpipes and drums pretty much drowned them out. But, their multiple sounds were most distracting during the introductions by the master of ceremonies, the playing of the exquisite small pipes, and during the singers' performances. To this, the parents seemed completely oblivious.

This got me to thinking. I love children. My professional career has been dedicated to the care and nuture of children. There is nothing better in this world than to see happy children at play. I truly enjoy the young pre-schoolers and those of elementary school age. We can learn a lot by observing children and listening to their interaction with each other. I do not adhere to the premise that "children should be seen and not heard".

However, children do not have to go everywhere with their parents. Sometimes it seems that young parents have never heard of baby sitters. Maybe these parents are career oriented or both work by necessity and feel guilty about leaving their children behind when they go out to an event. I don't really know their motivations, but more and more I observe children at places and events that are not child-friendly. I'll go so far as to state that some situations are so inappropriate that they are unfair, if not harmful, to the children.

Either the children are "hushed" and attempts are made to force them into non age-appropriate behavior, or they are ignored and allowed to do the things children do, disturbing adult patrons of the event. In either case, they are being taught bad lessons.

My daughter, who has worked as a waitress and a bartender at fine establishments, tells stories of children running wild in the bar, completely ignored by the parents. We have all experienced the distractions of children (who rightfully should be at home, in bed, and sound asleep at the time) at movies, concerts, plays, and fine adult-oriented restaurants.

Children: Love them, Love them, Love them. But, know that there are times when it is preferable, both for them and for you, to leave them at home with a responsible party.

"Happy Saint Pat's Day"...From a Scotsman

2006-03-17T10:11:00.000-05:00

I know I'm not Irish, but we all can use a little luck. I'm on my way to the Scottish Heritage Weekend Symposium at St. Andrews Presbyterian College. The Scottish weekend culminates with the Kirkin 'o' the Tartan Service at our Presbyterian (what else?) Church on Sunday. Got my kilt out and ready to go. Thank God it still fits.

But I'm not stupid. I'll wear green to today's events. The kilt can wait till tomorrow.

A Week at the "Beach"

2006-03-13T16:45:00.000-05:00

Just got back from a week at the "beach". In other parts of the country it is called different things such as "the coast"or "the Gulf". But here in North Carolina and to our neighbors just to the south in South Carolina, it is the "beach". Home of "beach music" and the "shag". For the uniniated reader, especially those of the British persuasion, I haste to point out that the "shag" is a dance, very rhythmic, intricate, and difficult to master. There are many who dance the "shag", but there are few true "shaggers".

As is usual with such occasions, things did not go exactly as planned. But, it was a great week none the less. It was made more special by the fact that our daughter, Miss Em, was able to fly in to visit with us. We loafed around, read books, ate seafood, cooked a Boston Butt and collards especially for Miss Em, ate more seafood, visited, drank some whiskey, and watched some T.V.

T.V. consisted mostly with watching "American Idol" (in which three finalist are again from the great state of North Carolina) and the ACC Basketball Tournament (in which, unfortunately the "Dookies" once more prevailed, and the young Tarheels lost out in the semi-finals to the carpetbaggers from Boston College). I'm still proud of the Heels. If they do not win another game this season, they have far surpassed my greatest expectations for this inexperienced team. Roy Williams for National Coach of the Year. Freshman center Tyler Hansbrough has already been named ACC Freshman of the Year, All-ACC Tournament Team, All ACC First Team, and Sporting News First Team All-American. I must mention in passing that " My Best Friend, John" (see previous blog) has one big fault - he is a DOOK fan. But, I still love him.

Speaking of T.V. I did watch, for the only time, I promise, the absolutely worse T.V. show I have ever seen, Deal or No Deal. Where is the intellegence or talent here? Contestants must only recognize the Arabic numerals from 1 to 26 and be able to say them in English. The plastic beauties need to hold a briefcase and be able to open it on demand. Do they have day jobs. And I thought Vanna White did little on Wheel of Fortune, whose contestants look like mensa candidates compared to those on Deal.

I got a little off message there for a minute. We did have a wonderful week at the "beach". Sorry that Number One Son could not make it this time. Jobs have away of screwing up the best of plans. Also missed some friends of the family who could not make the trip. Maybe next time.

Next stop, the Outer Banks of North Carolina in August. We will be going "up" to the Outer Banks or "out" to the Outer Banks, but not "down" to the "beach" that time. It is a great place, but it is not the same. I have not "shagged" on the Outer Banks, not the dance, anyhow.

My Best Friend, John

2006-03-08T18:42:00.000-05:00

Do you have a best friend? I mean one that has been your best friend since early childhood and remains your best friend to this day. I do. And, his name is John. We have been best friends for over 50 years, so long that I cannot remember when we were not best friends.

This entry is prompted by the fact that my best friend left us at the beach today to return home because of his sense of duty and commitement to a part-time position, when he could have stayed here without any questions asked. That is the kind of person he is.

Old home movies show us playing together as pre-school children. We were in school together from kindergarten through high school graduation. We were in Cub Scouts and Boy Scouts together. We went to the 1957 Boy Scout Jamboree at Valley Forge, PA and to the Philmont Scout Camp in New Mexico together. We received our Eagle Scout awards together. We played football together. He was the star quarterback. I was a grubby lineman. We were co-captains of the football team our senior year. He was, by far, the better athlete, excelling in basketball and baseball as well as football, while I could not make the team in the two latter-mentioned sports, so I served those as student team manager. It still irritates him to this day that I was named the most outstanding athlete in our class. I agree. The award should have gone to him.

John went to college on a football scholarship. There he met his wonderful wife. Then to my surprise, no, to my utter amazement, John went to Duke Divinity School in order to pursue a career as a minister. I will only say that he was the last person that I grew up with that I would have ever imagined entering the ministry and going to such a demanding institution as Duke. While he was not a stupid person by any means, the truth is, that while in high school he was not the most dedicated student. He had other interests at the time. I credit his wife with channeling his energy and intellect into a that of a scholar.

We had kept in contact during our college years, seeing each other mostly during school breaks. We worked together as common laborers for a large commercial air-conditioning company following our junior year in college. By that time it was OK for us to share a beer together, but not at his house. While he was in Divinity School at Duke and I was in Medical School down the road at UNC (Go Heels), we got together on occasions, especially after I got married. But for the most part we had our own separate social circles of classmates. Then, after he graduated and I was still a medical student, he was assigned three small rural churches not far from Chapel Hill. John and his wife needed friends, apart from his congregations. He needed a place that he could relax. Do any of us realize what a glass house we construct for our preachers? Anyhow, my wife and I provided a comfort zone for them. It was during this time that John decided, after consulting with his brother, a career Army physician, to apply to the Army Chaplin's Corps.

He was accepted and commissioned an officer (Chaplin) in the U.S. Army. He went to Viet Nam, where, as a Chaplin, he was awarded medals (I'm not sure whether they were Bronze Stars or Silver Stars, since he is hesitant to talk of his exploits) for Valor, very unusual for a Chaplin. When I entered the military and we were in transit from N.C. to Fort Sam Houston, TX, we visited John and his wife at his new posting at Fort Polk, LA. He could not understand why I, as a doctor, entered as a Captain while he, as a Chaplin, was a First Lieutenant after a couple of years of service. I could only defer to the infinite wisdom of the U.S. Army. It was at Fort Polk that he introduced me to Harvey Wallbangers. I have not had one since.

Over the years we have remained close. We saw each other at high school reunions when John was not serving overseas. On one such occasion we had a very good party. John was supposed to participate in the service at his home church that Sunday. His older brother was at home for the occasion. But, unfortunately, John was under the weather with a "stomach virus". His mother never cared much for me after that because she was convinced that I had slipped him some alcohol in his drinks at the party and gotten him drunk. I never told her otherwise.

When John was the Chief Chaplin at Arlington National Cemetery, our family visited his, and he wowed us with his knowledge of the history of that national shrine. We got the "cook's tour". Later when he was reassigned to Germany and we wanted to return to Germany where I had served for three years and where we adopted our son, John and his wife were gracious hosts for a portion of our trip. Even later, following my cancer surgery, once again they welcomed us to their last posting in Arizona, where I regained my strength. We RV'd to the Grand Canyon, the Petrified Forest, the Painted Desert, and finally Las Vegas. I will never forget that trip.

John retired from the military as a full-bird Colonel after thirty years of service to his country. He saw duty as a young man in Viet Nam. As a senior officer, he served with the Big Red One in Iraq as part of Desert Storm. For that alone he has my undying respect.

Upon retirement John returned to our hometown. His wife said he wanted to retire with me. I really do not know whether that is the complete truth, but I take it as a supreme compliment. I'm sorry that I cannot develop a love of golf that he has. I have enjoyed the comraderie of our times on the links, but since I'm such a sorry golfer, I have given up the game. I have noted above that he is a better athlete (and competitor) than I am. I hope he will forgive me.

I have other regrets in our friendship. I regret that I thought I was in love with a young English girl in college and went to England following our senior year in college and missed his wedding. I traveled six thousand miles to get shot down, but it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I later met my wonderful wife, now of almost thirty eight years. John and his wife attended our wedding. I regret that I jumped out of bed one morning to go to an emergency C-Section, only to have my back go out on me. I had to call partners to cover the C-Section, but more regrettably, I had to miss the wedding of John's son that weekend. It seems that he has always been there for me, but the reverse has not always been true.

We were there with him when his wife underwent surgery for a benign brain tumor. We will be with them as she undergoes radiation therapy for a recurrence of the tumor. They just learned of the recurrence the day they came to join us at the beach. They and we are optimistic about her prognosis. We will keep them in our thoughts and prayers, and wish we could do more.

John has a good income from his military retirement pay. He has two wonderful children and a new grandchild whom he loves to visit. He loves to travel and go RV'ing. He does not need to work. But, when his home church lost it's associate pastor and needed a part-time associate, John agreed to a 20-hour a week committment to the church. This has evolved into a pretty much full time job for part-time pay. He does not complain. He continues to serve his church and his community, and that is why he left the beach today. With all that he has going on in his personal life at this time he still felt a duty to his church to complete a task that he had started, although someone else could have filled in for him for a single meeting. That is the kind of person he is, and that is why I love him, and why I have the honor of calling him my best friend.

Do you have such a best friend. I hope so.

Free at Last...Free at Last...But Not Forever

2006-03-04T13:26:00.000-05:00

Am just finishing up five weeks of work and beginning five weeks of "retirement". That's what semi-retirement is all about. My friends ask me how I like my five weeks of "vacation", and I have to explain that it is not "vacation". One gets paid during vacation, not during "retirement". There is a difference.

After my first couple of "times off" I really did not want to go back to work. I had fun doing a little traveling, catching up on some projects around the house, sleeping in late (while my wife continued to get up early and go to work), reading, enhancing my cooking skills, and just enjoying the bliss of being completely worthless at times.

But after my last "time off", which luckily included the Christmas Holidays, I was really looking forward to getting back in the saddle at the clinic. My children had come for Christmas and returned home. My wife, still working full time, could not get off anytime she wanted to go on trips with me. And, remember, I'm not being paid when off. After years of lying to myself that I enjoyed golf (and it is called this because all the other four-letter words were taken), I quit the stupid game. I have enough humbling things in my life without going out and seeking them and paying good money for them to boot. Anyhow, it was winter. Why not work?

I returned to work full of vim and vinegar, ready to conquer disease once more. Then several things converged that really wore me down. The Flu season appeared with a vengence. I'm talking about the real influenza here. Hundreds of cases I'm talking about. There was also a flu-like illness that mimicked the real deal in all aspects except for the negative flu test. On top of this a nasty vomiting and diarrhea bug struck. Of course, there was the seasonal RSV (respiratory virus) intrusion causing cough, cold, and wheezing in infants and toddlers. And we had our usual number of routine physicals and various episodic illnesses to deal with. We had more admissions to the hospital, as we usually do in the winter, meaning more work and more time at the hospital in addition to the clinic. Moreover, it seemed that about every baby born was a product of an emergency C-Section delivery (better known as a "vaginal bypass") for some reason or another, necessitating a pediatrician at the delivery. Such daytime deliveries took one of the doctors out of the office for an hour or two, adding to the patient load of the remaining docs manning the fort. Such nighttime deliveries, and there were many, got me up out of a nice warm bed. I should add that most of the newborn babies did fine, and those who experienced problems after birth ultimately did fine also. So why am I complaining, we did good. But it was tiring.

Then, one of the younger doc's wife had a baby, and he took off a couple of weeks to help out with the baby, the older brother, and parents and in-laws. He came back to work this weekend and said he was ready to come back to work for relief. So we were a doc short for two weeks. Let me make one thing clear. I'm not faulting the doc. I would have done the same. Of course, his two nights of night call had to be covered by one of us. As luck would have it, the schedule made it perfectly clear that I was the logical choice to cover both nights. I was "Unlucky Pierre" as we say around the clinic. In the past I have been both "Lucky Pierre" and "Unlucky Pierre", and it all evens out in the long run. But in the short haul, it is tiring.

Lastly, one of the other young doc's daughters got ill enough to be hospitalized. Of course, he took off to help out with her and the two other daughters, both of whom were also sick but not sick enough to go to the hospital. Bottom line, another slot to fill at the ranch. We all pitched in and things worked out. His daughter is making a nice recovery, and the other two are better, also.

So, now I'm free for five weeks. The first week will be spent at the beach. My wife and Mom will be there the whole week. My best friend and his wife will join us for a few days. My two children are flying in for the latter part of the week. Unfortunately, they could not come for a longer stay, but they have lives of their own many, many miles away. I cherish the time they can get away to spend with us. I'm just sorry that their friends could not accompany them. The house we are using is huge. It sleeps 18 according to the literature. But, who would want 17 other people in a beach house with them? These young people have such busy lives, why aren't they tired?

After the beach, no real plans. Maybe, just maybe I'll choose to be completely, utterly worthless again for a few weeks, so I will be ready to go back to the clinic when I am no longer free.

My Heroes Have Always Been Lawmen

2006-02-28T17:26:00.000-05:00

This posting or this blog, or whatever you call it (remember that I am new at this) cries out, no, it screams out for pictures. But I do not know how to find pictures on the web to insert into my postings. And, even if I could retrieve pictures, I do not know how to insert them. I also do not know how to put links in my messages, but that is a whole other matter. I can't even get the SpellCheck to operate here, although I have no problems with MicroSoft Word or Gmail.

The world has experienced the loss of three (or four) dedicated lawmen recently. They will be missed by all law-abiding citizens of the U.S. of A.

First, the wise-cracking Detective Lenny Brisco of "Law & Order", my all-time favorite TV series, died, just as he was starting his new role on one of the many "Law & Order" spin-offs. Skillfully played by the venerable Jerry Orbach, he is a character I will always remember. It is really hard for me to forget him since I watch reruns of "Law & Order" almost every night on TNT, TNT, TNT. While I do sometimes watch the spin-offs, Such as CI, and SVU, none holds a candle to the original series, with its changing but always excellent cast (with the exception of the blond assistant D.A., Rohm, I think her name was, who was canned).

Next to die was the unforgettable Deputy Barney Fife of "The Andy Griffith Show" fame. Many a night I watched, in glorious black-and-white, Don Knotts, Andy Griffith, Ron Howard and the rest of the Mayberry ensemble of wierd characters that would do Austin, Texas proud. I still catch some reruns on TV-Land. While Don Knotts played other roles in the movies and other TV series, he will always be Barney Fife to me. So why not let us finally load that single bullet into his pistol and give him a one-pistol salute.

Then today comes word of the death of Chester, Marshall Matt Dillon's trusty gimpy sidekick on "Gunsmoke", another favorite TV show of my youth. Dennis Weaver played the role to perfection. Come Saturday night at 10:00 P.M., I and millions of others tuned into "Gunsmoke" on Network TV. It was on CBS, as I recall. There were only three networks at the time, CBS, NBC, and ABC, but we only got CBS on WBTV out of Charlotte, 100 miles away. The other networks would come later. Via the TV antennas on our houses we really saw more "snow" than clear pictures at times. But, it was wonderful entertainment. It was a more simple, innocent time. We all loved Marshall Dillon and the saloon owning Miss Kitty. It never occured to us that they were shacking up, and that Miss Kitty was the Madam/Whore with a heart of gold. Another wonderful cast: James Arness (Matt Dillon), Dennis Weaver (Chester), Amanda Blake (Miss Kitty) & Milburn Stone (Doc, but not "the Doc") . Burt Reynolds was also in the cast at a later time, playing a blacksmith, but I do not remember his character's name, and if I saw him, it was forgettable, unlike his "Bandit" character in the Smokey and the Bandit movies. I know there are "Gunsmoke" reruns out there on cable, but I could not watch them and enjoy them with my adult's more jaded eye.

Later, Dennis Weaver played Deputy Marshall Sam McCloud on the series "McLeod", hence the above reference to the loss of four lawmen. But, Dennis Weaver will always remain Chester in my memories. I do not recall "McLeod", except for a single episode with him riding a horse in New York City. As I recall, this series alternated with two other mysteries, one of which was "McMillan and Wife", starring Rock Hudson and Susan Saint James. I don't recall the other series. None of them were favorites of mine...Give me "Law & Order" !

Although he died years ago, I remember Jack Lord ("book'em Danno) of "Hawaii 5-O". Another favorite of mine, still living, as far as I know, was Peter Falks's Detective ("Just one more thing") Columbo on the series of the same name.

I have loved TV and movie and novel detectives all my life. I will probably remember more right after I complete this posting. I am saddened by the death, in such a short period of time, of three wonderful actors who gave me hours of pleasure. I'll have to catch them on cable TV reruns, where they will live forever.

When "Rights" are Wrong

2006-02-26T22:52:00.000-05:00

I'm not talking about "universal rights", because these cosmic entities are beyond the scope of this brief blog entry, nevermind that this entire concept is beyond the comprehension of this simple blogger. I am not even talking about "human rights", which are international in nature, and thus not apropos to this communique. Rather, I'm talking about "citizen rights".

These "citizen rights" should apply to all citizens of the United States of America. They are not meant to apply to illegal aliens, tourists, visiting students, or any other group of non-citizens. If such were the case, there would be no need to identify "Women's Rights", "Black Rights", "Latino Rights", "Gay Rights", etc., ad nauseum. I am already in trouble. Maybe we should be talking about "African-American Rights", "Chicano Rights", "Gay & Lesbian Rights", etc. See What I mean? The entire scope of the list is inconceivable. Everyone is a minority in one sense or another. We could completely Balkanize the country if we follow this way of thinking.

If we truly recognized the concept of "citizen rights" in all aspects of our society there would be no need for the Equal Rights Amendment, The Voter's Rights Act, or the Civil Rights Acts, Gay Marriage Laws, or other similar such legislation.

A simple example follows:

If married couples qualify for advantageous treatment by the IRS, Health Insurance Companies, lending institutions, and the estate laws, to name but a few entities, should not such benefits be available to other established households. Examples of such households are easy to enumerate: (1) Adult siblings living together; (2) adult children living with a parent or parents (not just minor children or children still classified as students); (3) heterosexual couples who live together but not really "common law" marriages, whatever that entails (I'm not clear about the rights of such relationships-How long does a couple have to shack up before the relationship is deemed a common law marriage? If citizen rights apply, the duration of the relationship is immaterial) ; and, of course, (4) gay couples (again the length of the relationship is immaterial, if the relationship exist at the time of the benefit, it should be extended).

There are other examples available. Maybe readers will offer others. Just go back to the Constitution. Extend equal rights to all citizens. Eliminate the need for self-serving special interest groups. Avoid the devisive influence of such groups. Work for the good of all citizens.

Labels, Labels, Labels...Who am I?...Who are You?

2006-02-25T21:10:00.000-05:00

To my Mom, I am "Son", To my children, I am "Dad". To my wife, I am "Dear" (sometimes). To many I am "Doctor". To my brother, I am "Brother". To a precious few I am "Friend".

I am a Senior Citizen, a card-carrying member of AARP, who enjoys some of the association's benefits, but disagrees with it's politics. I am a proud Veteran of our Armed Forces, having served for three years in the Medical Corps in Germany. I was fortunate in that the Army did not need Pediatricians in Viet Nam. I do not think I would have gone to Canada if ordered to Nam. As I veteran I prefer USAA insurance for myself and my family.

I am a now semi-retired Pediatrician. I love working with children. I hate seeing children used and exploited for political purposes. When I see some politician saying that some bill or proposed program is "For the Kids" I cringe.

I am Caucasian. I am a heterosexual (ie, Straight) Male. I am a Southerner. I am a Presbyterian, but I have a questioning faith. By definition, I am a "WASP". I am a registered independent, but vote Republican.

I am one of the lucky ones, a cancer survivor. My survival probably had more to do with the type of cancer I had and it's early detection than with any other factors.

I was a school board member, but one child attended a private high school when I left the board.

I am definitely opinionated, but I do not have a closed mind. I can change, and have changed, my opinion when challenged by intelligent reasoned argument and discourse.

Most consider me a "Conservative". None consider me a "Liberal". But, I favor gun control. I would hate to see abortions illegal again. I have witnessed the death of young women who had botched illegal abortions. One should not get the death penalty for having sex. On the other hand I abhor the idea of abortions being used as a convenient means of birth control, especially the henious late third trimester abortions. However, I do favor the death penalty, if it is applied in a timely manner. I feel certain acts in our society demand the forfeiture of one's life as the proper penalty.

I am really not in favor of prayer in the public schools. Personally, I never found the morning devotionals, that were the norm when I was in school, to be profound religious experiences. But an invocation prior to a commencement does not seem out of place. However, prayers before a sporting event seem comical to me. Religious teachings are best left to our churches and our homes.

I am for equal rights for all, but I deplore all the self-serving special-interest groups espousing their specific rights under various banners. But, this whole topic is worthy of a separate future posting. Special-interest groups are devicive, for the most part. I am for unity. Many special-interest groups often forment discontent to justify their own existence. Without such discontent, there would be no use for such groups and they would wither away.

I consider myself a capitalist, but cringe when the bottom-line mentality drives American jobs overseas. We are a consumer society, but without jobs, without paychecks, we will cease to be consumers. Where will that leave us all. I don't really understand economics. What I consider good news often sends Wall Street into a tailspin. And vice-versa. Is there such a thing as real "free trade"?

I am a physician, but, stupidly and to my children's chagrin, I smoke an occasional cigar, so I guess that makes me a smoker. But, I don't think that should make me a second class citizen. I know the risks, and if I get sick because of this pleasure (or vice), it's not the tobacco company's fault. I very much dislike the "victim industry".

I am both a majority and a minority, depending on how I am labeled.

These thoughts are only the surface. I am really even more complex. So, who am I? And, who are you?