Let's Go Visit The Doctor

Let’s Go Visit the Doctor

  I hate going to the doctor. I hate hospitals even worse, but that’s another story. I’m getting old, or am old depending on your point of view. So visits to the doctor are becoming more and more frequent as time goes on. But most of my visits to the doctor aren’t for me. I have had to take my mother to the doctor often and my father even more so on a regular basis. Both my parents are in their mid-eighties. And judging from their quality of life, it’s not a place I really want to be. Anyway, I’m old enough to remember times when the family doctor would still make “house calls”. When I had my tonsils out, I had a hemorrhaging problem and the Doc came to the house to check me out. I ended up in the hospital the very next morning. I remember that the doctor was the same one who delivered most of us, and he genuinely seemed to care about our health. Granted, medical science was still a long way from what it is today, and what he could do was limited. But he did his best to fix or cure what ailed us.

  Nowadays, we all know the routine when it comes to doctor visits. They don’t come see you. You have to go see them. My doctor charges $75 for me to just walk into one of his little rooms whether he actually does anything for me or not. Then when you get there at your appointed time, you discover that fifty other people have the same appointment time as you. So you all get to wait in a crowded waiting area with quite a few folks that are obviously sick and spreading germs all over the place. While you’re waiting, you notice a parade of handsomely dressed women in high heels coming in to the waiting room and being let in to the office area by the receptionist. They all are dragging one of those little suitcases on wheels behind them. Yep, drug company reps with the latest samples they want your doctor to push on to you. And did you know that your doctor gets “perks” like free vacations to Hawaii and such if he writes X number of prescriptions for the latest wonder drug for the newly made up “disease”? So now your appointment was for 9:00 o’clock a.m. and you’ve been sitting there for over an hour and a half past that when your name is finally called. You feel like you just won the lottery and jump up eager to put down a year old issue of People magazine, that you weren’t really reading anyway, and get this over with.

  But it ain’t over yet. You get to go sit in a little isolation chamber while a nurse weighs, pokes, and prods you like you were some prized Herford that was coming up for auction, and then proceeds to ask you a bunch of questions that you just had to answer on a form while you were sitting out in the waiting area. You’re sitting there wondering why couldn’t you have just brought the form in here and handed it to her. After all, she seems to be the one who really needed to know all this stuff in the first place. But you don’t say anything because you don’t want to risk slowing the process down any further. The nurse leaves out of the room and you’re left alone. No old magazines in here, so you stare at the skeletal chart on the wall and wonder if your insides really look anything like that. As you sit there listening to torture sounds coming from some of the adjoining rooms, you start to think that when the President said it was okay for waterboarding that maybe your doctor decided to get into the act right along with the CIA. After all he’s been in the torture business a lot longer than they have. You start to wonder if maybe you’re next and begin to strain your ears to figure out just what really is going on over there. You would think that they would pipe in some elevator music or something in here to calm your nerves and mask those screams and pitiful crying of poor little children who are obviously being abused not twenty feet away from where you’re sitting. By the time your doctor finally does pop into the room, you’re bored, need to pee really bad, and more than just a little spooked.

  Your doctor has to look at your chart to see what your name is because he doesn’t remember you from the last time you were here, and he needs to get an idea of why you’re here taking up his valuable time. He then proceeds to ask you some of the same questions that the nurse asked you earlier and that you had to answer on that stupid form. Once the interrogation is over, he gets around to asking why you’re here today. You cautiously explain to him what’s going on with you, and he half-heartedly listens nodding his head at seemingly appropriate times while scribbling something down on your chart that only a team of highly trained cryptographers could interpret. You can usually tell that his mind is really a million miles away or perhaps thinking about that Hawaii vacation while you chatter on about how much it hurts and wonder what could possibly have caused this in the first place. The doctor, as you may not realize, doesn’t really care about the cause and, heaven forbid, a cure. It may even be that a previous medication he had prescribed for you is the cause of your current ailment. He is just doing what the NSA does when they monitor your phone calls. He listens for key words and, when he hears them, he nods his head and writes you a prescription again using that encryption that no ordinary human being could read. This prescription is for the latest wonder drug that is not going to cure anything but just may mask the symptoms you’re having temporarily until your body becomes immune to it. Meanwhile it too will come with certain side effects that will guarantee you a return visit to the doctor’s office where you get to repeat the whole torture process all over again. After writing the prescription, he’s gone in a flash on to the next victim…I mean patient…and you are completely forgotten until the next time you can spare $75 for a visit and waste half your day sitting around in a germ filled waiting room, and then get to pay even more for some new wonder drug that at least might earn someone a trip to Hawaii.

  If you’re like my parents and my wife that passed away, after you’ve repeated this process several times you find yourself taking two handfuls of meds every day and still wonder why your digestive system is all messed up and you don’t feel any better than you did before all this craziness started. Such is the state of modern medicine. Doctors have become drug pushers for big pharmaceutical companies and you have become guinea pigs in their gigantic chemistry experiment that is making them richer than King Midas. A side benefit to all this is that five years after these new wonder drugs come out, cheesy lawyers get to start a feeding frenzy over suing big pharmaceutical companies for the consequences their drugs have caused. The big drug companies aren’t bothered by this. They’ve gotten so rich off of their poison already that the fines are just chump change to them. They pay it and move on to the next drug they can push on to doctors and you. It’s a vicious cycle that has nothing to do with your health or wellbeing. Knowing this, needless to say, I avoid going to the doctor as much as possible. And I have flat told him I’m not taking certain drugs no matter what. Fear of dying is not one of my ailments. Fear of getting old and unable to enjoy life is. So, I for one, think it is way better to just eat as healthy as you can and live life to the fullest while you can and let nature take its course.

On a Spring Day

                                         On a Spring Day

  On a spring day, just like today, I once drove my convertible with the top down winding through beautiful hills breathing in the freedom and promise of a new year. I happily waved at passerby’s that were doing the same as I. We were a happy band of refugees who had long since tired of winter’s siege and rejoiced like the trees putting out fresh buds their sap quickening through stiff branches. On a spring day, just like today, I once strolled down a long beach delighting in the flight and cry of gulls feeling the icy water try to run up my bared feet and legs as I carried my shoes in my hand and marveled at the warmth of the sun on my cheek. 

On a spring day, just like today, I once walked the steep path up the side of a mountain breathing in deep the rare clean air, and then lay upon a huge flat rock overlooking a majestic valley and made love to a beautiful woman. On a spring day, just like today, I laid out in my yard amid the fresh green clover chewing on a long stem of grass and watched my baby girl picking flowers and delighted in her constant chatter that didn’t sound much different than the birds and squirrels going about their business. On a spring day, just like today, I saw my son playing in the yard with his friends and, as they walked off towards one of the other boy’s house, he looked over his shoulder and smiled at me and, in that moment, I saw the man he would become. 

On a spring day, just like today, I tilled the ground and made rows in the dirt feeling the soft earth beneath my bare feet and planted seeds of promise already tasting their goodness in my mouth as I dropped each one in its place. 

On a spring day, just like today, I sat out on my front porch drinking coffee watching the birds playing amid the new leaves, and as I listened to my wife talking about mundane things I felt so much joy stirring within me just for the privilege of being there by her side. On a spring day, today, I came home from grocery shopping delighting in the bright sunshine on a cloudless day and pulled in to the driveway as a not so timid dear walked out of the woods and meandered for a while on the front lawn. I sat quietly in the car until the dear disappeared back into the woods. A strange feeling came over me, and I realized that there wouldn’t be too many more spring days like today. On a spring day, just like today, I often remember thinking that the world would go on forever and so would my legacy through the friendship and love I have set in motion sending it forward through the ages. Six generations from now no one will remember my name, but it is my prayer that they too will experience spring days, just like today, and marvel at the wonder of it all.

Long Way Home

Taking the Long Way Home

  I must confess that somehow, somewhere in my ancestry, which is mostly French, there must have been some Gypsy blood mixed in there. Who knows how far back it may have been. But I have a sneaking suspicion it comes from both sides of my family. My mother was born and raised in Eudora, Arkansas and my father in Breaux Bridge, Louisiana. They both ended up in Port Arthur, Texas in a time when most people never traveled very far from the places where they were born. Not all the members of my family inherited this trait. Some of them hate to travel and remain within a few miles of the place where they were born. But the rest of us have been here and there all over the country. I ran from Southeast Texas as soon as I got the chance. But family keeps pulling me back here even though I would be much happier living somewhere else – at least for a while.  I love to travel to new places and just explore. If I’m in one place too long, I get restless. Itchy feet. I start feeling like a lion in a small cage. I start pacing and staring out the door wishing for the freedom to just go where I want to go. Sometimes when I’m going down the highway, I get this almost uncontrollable urge to just keep on going. I don’t have a destination in mind. Just an urge to point my car towards the horizon and go where it takes me. I even find myself enjoying hurricane evacuations because it gives me an excuse to go somewhere different. And I don’t get in any hurry to come back when the storm has passed. The last evacuation we had, I and most of my family ended up in Pensacola, Florida. The storm was headed directly into the Texas Gulf coast between Houston and Port Arthur, so we decided east was the better direction to head while everyone else was headed west.

  The first morning in Pensacola, I woke early before everyone else who were all exhausted from the late night trip. I couldn’t sleep and was up at 5 o’clock in the morning. I sneaked out of the motel room and went exploring. I drove all over Pensacola just exploring and getting my bearings. I had looked at the map on my laptop before I left, so I was sure I could find my way around without getting lost. I have a good sense of direction which comes in handy at times. Anyway, about three hours later I returned to the motel just when everyone else was starting to stir. My granddaughter said she needed to go to a Wal-Mart and the others wanted to see the sights and go to the beach. They also suggested we find a good restaurant for lunch. I told them no problem, just follow me. I already knew where the Wal-Mart was located as well as Target and a shopping mall. I also had discovered a nice looking seafood restaurant that we should try. And I knew the way to the beach. Everyone looked at me like I was psychic or something. And they wanted to know how I had found all this without getting lost. I just shrugged and said it’s what I do. It’s what I’ve always done when I get to a new place. When I was younger I used to go to Houston and just ride around. Sometimes I would get a little turned around or not know exactly where I needed to go to get to a certain place. But Houston is easy. You just pick a direction and keep going until you hit one of the loops that go all the way around it then it’s easy to find your way from there. Being lost doesn’t frighten me at all. In fact I kind of enjoy the feeling and it becomes a challenge for me to find my way again.

  Often when I’m going somewhere in my car, I’m in a hurry to get where I’m going. So I take the shortest path to get there. But coming home, I often go the long way around, just to be seeing something different than what I had to look at on the way there. In life, too many of us are in such a hurry to get somewhere that we always travel the shortest path possible. We’re always in a hurry for Friday to get here or our next birthday, or graduation day, or wedding day, or etc. etc. etc. We are busy wishing our lives away. I know some that are anxiously waiting for doomsday because they are in a hurry to “go home”. Not me. I prefer to take the long way home and fully intend to enjoy every minute of the trip.

Alternate Universes

Alternate Universes

  I’ve been watching all the old episodes of Fringe lately and it has me thinking about alternate universes. For one thing, I think I want to go live in the Fringe alternate universe because gas there is only $0.99 per gallon. Wouldn’t that be awesome? And instead of jet planes, they fly around in great big dirigibles like the Hindenburg. A leisurely flight in one of those may take longer to get from point A to point B, but it sure would be more relaxing. And you could get a better look at the scenery below you as you floated majestically overhead.  I know Fringe is just some very interesting science fiction. And for the most part, speculation about alternate universes is not much more than that. Scientists admit the possibility of alternate universes, but they don’t go much further than that. It’s only a mathematical possibility, a curiosity, but hardly more than a blip on the radar. After all, they are still trying to figure out what makes this universe tick. That’s plenty enough to keep them busy without having to throw other universes into the mix.

  But if there are an infinite number of universes out there and there are an infinite number of Earth’s just like ours but only slightly different – kind of like in the old sci-fi series called “Sliders”, then I wonder how many of Me’s there are out there sitting at a computer right this very moment pecking away at a keyboard wondering about the other Me’s out there. How many of them actually ran away from home when they were kids like I always wanted to do. And how many of them didn’t because they felt responsible for the safety of their brothers and sister. How many chose to go to college and because of it watched in horror as their first marriage came apart? How many didn’t and stayed happily married to the same person all those years?

  If you could bounce from one universe to the other, would you? Wouldn’t it be a lifetime of interest just to go from world to world and check in on Yourself over there and see what You were up to? To see how “You” turned out. Would you be jealous of the You that somehow took a different path and turned out to be rich and famous? Or of the You that did save his first marriage and lived happily ever after with his wife and kids? Would you feel sorry for the You who ended up homeless and alone with a bottle of booze his only friend? Or would you just be disappointed in him that he didn’t make better choices in his life?

   After years of studying all the various You’s on all the various Earths do you think it would give you a better perspective on the consequences of free will and every single little choice you make all throughout your life? How could it not? Do you need to make such a voyage before you start to see the magnitude of your dilemma? Or can you already begin to see that from the moment you wake up each day every little seeming insignificant choice you make has specific consequences not only for your life but for every other life that you ever come into contact with? And people are always asking what the meaning of life is. Shouldn’t it be apparent that life is all about making choices? And can you not see that if alternate universes do exist and there are an infinite number of each of us, then the whole thing is one gigantic experiment to not only see what the consequences would be of each and every one of your choices that you did make but also each and every choice it was possible for you to make at every moment in your life. In each of those worlds you could see the results of every choice you could have made differently from the ones you made here. Then multiply that by each one of us making choices as we interact with one another and it becomes completely mind boggling.

  Now imagine that you were above it all outside of space and time sitting in your recliner observing all of it – all the different choices in all the infinite number of cases. Do you imagine that there would be any need for you to stick your hand down there and interfere with someone’s choice – just to change the outcome? Why would you? After all, somewhere among the infinite number of You’s one of You at least is making the desired choice already.  If the goal was to tweak the system and get a single desired result, then what would be the point of multiple universes in the first place? Wouldn’t it be easier just to micromanage one? And if you had to micromanage it, what would be the point of creating the one in the first place allowing us to have free will and to make choices? Wouldn’t you just create the end result you so desired and be done with it?

  I know what some of you are thinking. There is no outside observer and all of this is a result of random chance. And that our choices have no ultimate consequences. That may be true, but somehow I doubt it. That would make everything – you, me, the universe, and perhaps the multiverse a very wasteful and futile proposition. And I know for a fact that every single little choice I’ve made throughout my entire life has had consequences. Some of which have echoed not only through my life but through everyone I’ve had dealings with. And those consequences will continue to reverberate down through the generations of my children, grandchildren and on and on from now until the end of time. Now am I saying that an outside observer will sit and judge the choices I made in this life? No I’m not. After all, out of all the possible choices I could have made if there was only one correct choice, then 99 percent of all the infinite number of Me’s would be condemned for making the “wrong” choice. Again a very wasteful system indeed if your goal all along was to achieve perfection. So perhaps the goal is not to achieve perfection. Perhaps the goal is simply to experience making choices. And not in some cold, logical, scientific manner. Giving us emotions so that we might feel the results of our choices may have more to do with what this grand experiment is all about. So when you get up tomorrow morning, just maybe you should be a little bit more mindful of each and every choice you make. And not only that, but set aside a little time once in a while to just contemplate and examine what you were feeling at the time when you made them and how you feel now knowing what the consequences have been of your past choices. After all, like Walter Bishop always says on Fringe, "When you open your mind to the impossible, sometimes you find the truth."

Good Morning Lizard

Good Morning Lizard

  My dad leaves the light on in the kitchen above the sink day and night. He doesn’t like to get up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water or a snack and have to look for the light switch. So the light stays on. There is also a window right above the sink looking out into the back yard. It’s the only window in the house where the blinds stay open all the time. When I get up in the morning, the first thing I do is go run some water to make my coffee. Every morning I look up and there he is. My good morning lizard is always there on the screen looking at me serenely. I guess he’s discovered that this is a good hunting ground for all the insects at night that are attracted to the light. He looks fat and happy. I always tell him good morning and wonder if he can see me or hear me from out there. Or am I just some shadowy blur to him like a passing cloud in the sky? Does he know I’m there and regarding him just as curiously as he seems to be regarding me? Or is he just thinking that he sure wishes he could get in there and wrap his quick tongue around that big fat tasty looking bug? Does he even think at all? Or does he simply react to outside stimuli? Lizards don’t have big brains. It is said that their only reaction to everything, if it has one at all, is limited to the following…eat, attack, run away, or mate. 

  Did you know that the part of our brain right above our spinal column is often referred to as the “Lizard Brain”? It is thought to be responsible for those same reactions in us. It tells us when we need to eat, attack, run away, or mate. If so, my lizard brain doesn’t always seem to function as it should. I often eat when I’m not really hungry. Sometimes I’m just bored or I start craving something even though I just ate an hour ago. The part that’s supposed to tell my when to attack or run away is a little confused these days too. It knows I can’t run anymore, but also knows that attacking is not a very good option either. And as far as mating…well let’s just say that part never did have good timing and leave it at that. So I guess it’s a good thing that my brain comes equipped with pieces that have “higher functions”. Or put another way, the part of my brain sitting on top of the lizard brain had to take over a long time ago. It was a bloodless coup, but I’m sure it came just in time and was completely necessary. Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t be here right now. If it hadn’t, I would probably have been stomped into paste and been lizard food long ago. Or worse, some other bigger stronger lizard might have mated with me out of season and lord knows I wouldn’t want that to happen.

  But somehow, I think my good morning lizard does have more thoughts running through its tiny brain than just those few things. I tend to think he’s smarter than your average lizard. I mean after all, he’s the only one that thought about climbing up there on our window and eating all those juicy bugs. And he seems to hang around just long enough each day to hear me say good morning, and then he’s off doing whatever lizards do during the day. Since he seems to be working the night shift, I assume he’s got a nice comfy bed somewhere and a sweet lizard wife to tuck him in each morning. When you think about it, it’s not such a bad life being a lizard. Eat bugs all night, say good morning to the strange human thing in the window then go home for a little mating and get tucked into bed all cozy to drift off and perhaps dream about big fat juicy good morning bugs. You could make a strong case for the human race being a lot better off if we had just stuck with our lizard brains. Developing the other parts of our brains may just have made us too smart for our own good. After all, I doubt my good morning lizard worries much about death and taxes, God or no God, or does Ms. Lizard really love him, or is she just faking it to put a roof over her head? I wonder what would happen if I turned the light off in the kitchen and left it off all night. Would he be mad at me? Would he go hungry? Would he finally build up enough courage to find a way in and attack me? Well, I guess we will never know for sure. Because I kind of like seeing him there every morning. It’s one of the few relationships I have that I truly seem to be able to count on. Purposely messing that up would no doubt prove once and for all who the superior creature is in this particular situation. So I highly recommend that if you have a relationship that you can truly count on in your life, don’t mess with it. Nurture it and appreciate it for what it is and be satisfied that you are blessed enough to have such a relationship at all. And always say good morning, whether you think it’s going to turn out that way or not.

Happiness Is

Happiness Is

  Happiness is: A) Having everything your heart desires. B) Being richer than King Midas so you can buy anything you desire. C) Having lots of friends , being popular, and having the best looking guy/girl on your arm to call your own. D) What you make of what life hands you regardless.

  If you answered A, B, or C I suspect you’re not really happy at all and here’s why. If I handed you everything you said you desired, once you had them you would quickly become bored with them and desire something that you didn’t have yet. You would always desire not only what you didn’t have but also what you couldn’t have. If you said that being rich would make you happy, I suspect that too would be fleeting. Of course you might think it would be easier to be happy sitting on a gigantic yacht than in a dinky apartment with no furniture wondering how you were going to pay the light bill this month. If having money maid you happy, then why do you think that millionaires who have more money than they could possibly spend continue to strive to make more money? And many of them don’t seem to be happy at all. They have the same bouts of loneliness, infidelity, depression, alcoholism, drug addictions, etc. as the rest of the population. Having money does not make them immune from such things. So perhaps they are not as happy as you might think. And if you said that being popular, having lots of friends, and being paired with Mr. or Ms. Right would do the trick for you, think again. Look at all the celebrities that have all the above and still go awry. Happiness isn’t found in things like money, possessions, fame, popularity, and even having a significant other. If you depend on any of these for your happiness you will most likely be disappointed in the long run and end up miserable. As long as you think of happiness as something external you will not be truly happy.  

  Our society does not want you to be happy. Happy people are not good consumers. Our society tries to program you to always want something “better” than what you have now. You like your shampoo and it works fine. Okay, but now you can get your shampoo that is “new and improved” for just a little bit more money and it will work even better leaving your hair cleaner and shinier than before. And when you get comfortable with that, then we want you to try this new and improved product that’s even better – for slightly more money of course. Same thing with electronics and any product you can think of. And it never ends. So you have to work harder to be able to buy the new stuff and maybe your spouse has got to get out there now and work too so you can afford all the new gadgets that the family just has to have. Then when that’s not enough, you have to work more and more hours and maybe even get a second job. Then you start buying everything on credit and have to put in even more hours just to pay off the credit cards. Surely you can’t be happy using that old stuff? After all your neighbors and friends are all using the new gizmo and look how happy they are. And it goes on and on. As a society, we don’t seem to be very happy and it is obviously by design. As individuals most of us aren’t too happy and it’s not all that surprising considering the severe amount of brainwashing that we are all subjected to on a daily basis.

  I have often been criticized for not being ambitious and being perfectly content with what I already have. I came to realize a long time ago that I would never be rich and that things didn’t necessarily bring you the happiness as advertised on TV. As long as you have a list of things that you desire, you will never be happy. Because once you get something on that list, you will just add something else to the list and will never be satisfied. Instead of putting everything you desire on the list, place there all the good things you already have and then practice being content with those. You will find you spend many more days in a happier state than you ever did before.  Happiness has nothing to do with external things. Happiness is all about internal peace of mind. In our noisy society, that is awash with rampant materialism and consumerism, such peace is indeed a very difficult thing to achieve. But it is possible. You just have to learn to tune out the noise.

Homesick

                            Homesick

  That’s another of those curious words that I think we could have done better on. Being homesick seems to be implying that you’re sick of being at home. But in fact it means just the opposite. There have been some really tough times in my life when I experienced homesickness very deeply. The first time was while I was in basic training in the Army. A couple of days into it and I started thinking, “Oh, my God, what have I done?” Before that, I couldn’t wait to get away from Pt. Arthur, Texas. I was so sick of being in that boring little town. Anyplace sounded better than there – even the Army. So I joined up; signed my life away for four years. I was ready for the adventure to begin. I remember my drill sergeant (Sgt. Dilly – I guess I will never forget that one!) telling us that from that first day on he was our Mommy and Daddy. I remember thinking holy crap, and I thought I had it bad at home. He also mentioned, on several occasions, that we should forget about our girlfriend because Jody was already there making her feel better. In a couple of days she wouldn’t even remember us. In just a few days, I was so homesick it was almost unbearable. I noticed I wasn’t the only one either.  But you get with the routine and you get over it. You didn’t really have much choice about the matter. I made the best of it.

  Then I moved to Tennessee later on, and at first it was great. I loved Nashville and being so near to so many exciting places I could go for a weekend and explore. I like to explore, and I love the mountains which is something we don’t have a lot of anywhere near Pt. Arthur, TX. So for a while it was a wonderful adventure. But it got old and home started sounding better and better all the time. I got homesick. But you know it’s never really about the place. I missed my family when I was in the Army. I missed them terribly after being so far away from them in Tennessee. If I could have brought them all up to Nashville, it would have been the greatest thing. And I never would have been homesick again. My daughter living up there for a while made it at least bearable. But when she moved back to Texas, that’s when it hit me hard. I got a terrible case of homesickness for the second time in my life. So I eventually moved back to Texas and everything was cool for a while. I thought I would never have to feel like that again.

  But now here I am again. And maybe it’s just mostly the Spring Fever talking, but I’m homesick. I don’t mean to be one to complain. I am away from home because of a choice I made and have no one else to blame for it. I made the choice to be the one taking care of my father rather than putting him in a nursing home. He doesn’t have a lot going for him these days, but I’m sure his quality of life is so much greater than what it would be if he were in that nursing home. And it’s not like I don’t get to see and communicate with the rest of my family from time to time. This time it is the place called home that I miss. Dad’s house is comfortable and all, but it’s not my home. So for now at least, I am truly and thoroughly homesick.

Family

Family

  I have never been accused of being a social butterfly. In fact there were times when I was called anti-social. There were times in my life when that was true. People have often disappointed me, so I usually built up walls to keep everyone at bay. I have been betrayed by friends and family alike way too many times. It left scars. It caused me to deal with even those who were sincere in their attempts to befriend me in a not so friendly manner. I became a loner. I didn’t reach out to anyone. I didn’t try to make friends. I guarded my heart closely for a long time. My persona from my first introduction to the computer world has always been “Tinman”. My email address since 1995 has always been tinman@... For the last twelve years it has been tinmanrl@myway.com Even my twitter account is tinmanrl@twitter.com and my icon on twitter is a picture of the Tin Man from OZ. How I wished I didn’t have a heart.

  My best friend, and the only one I really needed, has always been my wife. I’ve had three of those in my life. And that was true of each of them. But my second wife and I moved to Tennessee and lived in or near Nashville for twelve years. During that time, my wife was the only friend I had in the world. I realized towards the end of that time, that family was even more important. As much as I loved Tennessee, I missed my family and couldn’t stand living in that void without them any longer. I realized that when I left Tennessee, no one there would even miss me, even after having been there for so long. So it was time to go home and mend some fences and build some bridges. As my second wife pulled away from me, I grew closer to my family. I clung to them like a drowning man to a passing log. I renewed my relationship with my parents and now admit that my best friends are my wife (first and fourth), my brothers, and my sister. I’m not so anti-social any longer and boast many other acquaintances and casual friends even here on the wonderful world of the internet. I call people friends now that I have never even met face to face. I’ve become brave enough to put my heart back out there wearing it proudly like the Tin Man after his visit to the Wizard.

  So, with my wife by my side and knowing that my family has my back, I can face the world and not deem it such a lonely place. Whereas I had closed myself off to the world before, I now stand open and ready to trust again. But trust is something to be earned. And not many have stepped up to the plate. Do I long to be a social butterfly? No, not really. At this point in my life my wife, my family and the few friends that I do have is enough. My two children and their children are my pride and joy. I don’t really need to accomplish much more than that. It is enough for an old man. I will always stand with my family and cherish them until the end. And I pray for all those out there that are estranged from theirs, or who find themselves alone in this world. Just remember that it is never too late to reconnect with your family or build a new one if you find yourself facing the world alone. Not much in the world is more important than that.

Black Holes

Black Holes

  I watched a video the other day where this scientist totally trashed the whole notion of black holes in space. He was an astrophysicist and mathematician. He completely negated Einstein’s mathematical equations that supported the idea of black holes in the first place. When I sat and watched this video, I was thinking, “Well, it’s about time.” I was thinking this because I’ve always felt that the whole notion of black holes was bogus. For starters they say that matter collapses in on itself until it completely punches its way out of space as we know it creating a singularity. Supposedly, the gravity of this singularity is so great that even light can’t escape it. First of all, how come every picture I’ve even seen of a so-called black hole always shows this massive beam being projected out from the center of the black hole in both directions? And then there is the event horizon which is also always portrayed as a kind of cloudy looking torus of glowing matter that is somehow maintaining its distance from this gravity that is supposed to be so intense that even light can’t escape it? Clearly, these artists renditions of what a black hole is supposed to look like are completely bogus. So that alone was enough to make me question whether or not there were really in such things as black holes. Now to the second part of why I always questioned them. If the collapsed matter shrunk down to the point of being gone from this space-time continuum, then why wouldn’t the gravity it generated be gone too? Why would gravity by itself linger here when there was no longer any matter associated with it to generate said gravity? After all you can’t have one without the other. And let’s be clear here - when they say that all the mass of a star collapses down to the point of where it is smaller than this à . ß period between those two arrows we’re not really talking about matter anymore. According to the definition it is: “A point of infinite density and infinitesimal volume.” So we have an infinite density. What does that even mean? It’s so dense that it’s even more dense than the universe itself? This would necessarily be so because right now scientists don’t believe the universe is infinite. It’s an expanding big bang like a balloon being blown up. So it’s limited even though its boundaries are ever increasing. So it is still not infinite. Then there is that whole infinitesimal volume. All they’re trying to say with that is that it is so small it can’t be measured. I can measure the volume of the period at the end of this sentence. But that period would look like the whole universe in comparison to this creature we call a black hole. So again, how does a creature so infinitely small to the point of where there is no longer even anything that you can point to and say there it is still be said to be existing in our universe? And if that is the case, how can it still maintain its gravitational field?

  I read a book a long time ago where a cosmologist stated that black holes in this universe sucked out matter like a vacuum cleaner and it gushed out like “Old Faithful” at Yellowstone National Park becoming a white hole in a parallel universe. And every black hole in that universe gushes out matter as a white hole in this universe creating equilibrium. Fanciful idea, but where is it? What if a black hole opened up over there right on top of where we are here? Wouldn’t we be getting blasted with all that matter into oblivion? Or are these white holes smart enough to only open up in relatively empty space?

  So all this leads me to ask this question. If black holes are bogus making the notion of singularities a myth, where does that leave the big bang theory? After all isn’t it a reverse black hole springing up from a singularity? Or in a sense isn’t the big bang really a case of a white hole gushing matter it has sucked out from somewhere else and creating this ever expanding space-time continuum on this side? Kind of like a cosmic fart as it were? This my friends, is just another example of why I don’t buy into the so called “Big Bang Theory”.  And if black holes don’t exist, don’t get me started on “dark matter” and “dark energy”. 

In The Meantime

  This is one of those phrases that always made me scratch my head and go hmm. “In the meantime.” What does that mean exactly? What is “meantime”? Can time be mean? Well some people would say so…especially older people. Or in this case, can mean be interpreted as average? If so how can time be said to be average? Or would it be implying the time in the middle? If time is infinite, wouldn’t every moment of time then be in the middle? Or is it that particular instant of time somehow has meaning above and beyond regular time? Which brings up another point. Why does so many words in the English language have several different meanings? Couldn’t we have come up with separate words for the other meanings so there wouldn’t be a need to use the same word twice? Oh wait, that’s what synonyms are. So instead of using the word “mean” to mean to intend, and middle, and average, and hateful, why don’t we just pick one of the synonyms for each of the separate meanings and drop the other uses of the word? And then there are those pesky words that sound the same but are spelled differently and have different meanings. What’s up with that? Like the word where. There is also wear and ware. They all sound the same but are spelled differently. Surely we could have come up with a completely different word for having on clothes. And then another completely different word for goods and products other than ware. Then eliminate ware and wear completely from the language. Who made up this cockeyed language anyway?

  But in the meantime, back to the original question, by meantime it seems that we mostly mean to say simultaneously which just means “at the same time”.  Now there’s a perfectly good word that works better for me. Of course there’s really no way to be sure that two separate events are indeed happening simultaneously, but we’re to understand that it’s close enough to not make a difference. Now don’t get me started on the word “meanwhile”. Is someone working on this problem, or is everyone too lazy to fix it and write a new dictionary? If there’s no one willing to step up and do the job, I guess I may just have to volunteer. I mean, hey, if they can invent a whole new language for the imaginary Klingon race, why can’t someone spend a little time fixing up the English language before it’s too late. I mean have you seen how they’re murdering it on the internet and with texting? And before I turn loose of this particular bone, what in the world do they mean when they talk about “colorful language”? I’ve heard that term applied to cursing, swearing, foul language, or down south-plain old cussing, or whatever other synonym you can think of for words that aren’t normally used in polite conversation or anywhere near a church. My question is what’s so colorful about them? They’re not purple, pink, or red…which are indeed words that can truly be described as colorful language. But cuss words? No. And then I’ve heard the expression “off color jokes”. What the (insert your favorite colorful language word here) is up with that? Does that mean they are jokes with no foul words in them? Somehow it seems to imply just the opposite. So bottom line is that Webster needs to get busy and clean all this up and come up with a New American English Dictionary before we’re reduced to spouting nothing but colorful language. And if Webster needs any help with this project, tell him to call me. I’m not so busy right now that I couldn’t lend a hand, pitch in, volunteer my services, do my part, provide assistance, make a contribution, put in my two cents worth…sheesh…it never ends. Of course if they ever did fix the language, the stories we writers come up with may soon become a little tedious and boring if everyone is forced to express themselves the same precise way. Crap! I hadn’t thought of that. Oh, well, carry on then. As you were.

Meanwhile…

My Favorite Nations

My Favorite Nations

  Besides being a card carrying citizen of the great nation of Imagi. Or Imagi-nation as it’s often referred to, I also have a dual citizenship and am a long standing member of another well-known place called Procrasti. Yep Procrasti-nation is my second home or at least it will be when I finally get around to packing my bags and moving there. I have a strong affinity for its constitution, or would-be constitution if any of its citizens would ever get around to voting on it, and someday, when I get around to it, I plan on building myself a beautiful mansion and taking up permanent residence in that great state. I thought that day would come as soon as I gave up my racial identity and turned in my ID card that had made me an official member of that insidious species mostly known as the Rat Race of which I had belonged since I was about fifteen years old. At age sixty two, I tore up my membership ID abandoning the Rat Race to their own devices and became a member of the elite gentry known as the AAROC or American Association of Retired Old Codgers. We OC’s are an ornery bunch of folks who like to sit around drinking coffee, talk about the weather, and tell each other the peculiar locations of our latest aches and pains. But due to circumstances beyond my control, that privilege has also been postponed to an unforeseeable future day and time when I will at last be free to just put everything off until tomorrow. The biggest majority of citizens who call the Procrasti-nation home are OC’ers. But there are exceptions. For instance I have always had one foot planted firmly on the soil of that unseen place even when I was but a pup. I used to never do homework until the night before it was due even if it had been assigned weeks before. I often missed deadlines and put off paying speeding tickets until I saw my face on wanted posters. So I became an honorary member of that country long ago. Someday I will officially apply for a passport and go there permanently…at least that’s the plan…or that would be the plan if I ever get around to making a plan and actually sticking to it. But, have no fear, I’m already very practiced in the customs of that mystical land. For instance, my inspection tag on my car is expired as of today. I keep meaning to get medical insurance, but I’m waiting to see what Obamacare requires me to get or pay the penalty if it’s cheaper when the time comes…maybe. But anyway, while I’m still sitting here in my Imagi-nation dreaming about the time when I’m finally able to relocate to the Lotus Eating Dream land of Procrasti-nation, I humbly greet you poor members of the overburdened, overpopulated and under-appreciated Rat Race. And, while I’m at it, I also hate to be the bearer of bad news…but there are no real winners of that incessant endeavor. Like me, you just finally sit down and refuse to run anymore. So, while you still have half a mind left, I strongly advise you go ahead and pack your bags and move at least part of your brain into the great and powerful Imagi-nation. I would suggest that you go ahead and apply for a passport while you’re there to the great state of Procrasti-nation as well, but no one who deserves to live there ever quite gets around to relocating anyway.

Just for your edification, here are some of the tenants of the Procrasti-nation’s un-ratified Constitution…

Constitution of Procrasti-nation

We the People resolve to hold the right to:

1

11)      Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow.

22)      Never look a deadline in the eye.

33)      Make promises if you have to, but never keep them until you’re forced to by the law or someone bigger and meaner than you are.

44)      Never stick to traditions. For instance, why plant your garden in the Spring when the weather is better in the summer. Better yet, just plant it whenever you feel like it or don’t plant one at all.

55)      Never volunteer for anything. If you do so accidently, conveniently forget to show up at the appointed time.

66)      Watches and Calendars are for sissies.

77)      Appointment books are only to remind you of what you would have done if you had gotten around to actually doing it and serves only to create an illusion that you actually care about something.

88)       Never pass a law that says you have to obey the law. Hang everyone that even tries it and revoke their citizenship immediately, or tomorrow, or whenever you get the chance.

99)      All actions and non-actions require a majority consensus…and since the citizenry have never been known to show up and vote on anything, forget about it.

110)   Never expect your neighbor to put off tomorrow what you can put off today.

111)   And this the first and probably last amendment to the above constitution states clearly that you should not ask your Nation what it cannot do for you. Instead ask yourself what you don’t want to do for yourself, and then don’t.