Contact With the World

My New Wheels, Stickin' It To the Man

2008-04-17T15:39:00.004-05:00

For years and years I have wanted to be on the seat of a little scooter of some kind. I remember in the late 80's telling my family that I was going to get a Honda Spree to ride to school when I was old enough. Well, thankfully I never did get the Spree, but I finally did get a 49cc scooter. It is a 2002 Honda Metropolitan. When I bought it there were only 115 miles on it. It has always been kept in tip-top condition by its previous owner, the race car mechanic. How did I justify the 4 hour each way road trip to go pick it up? It gets 100 miles per gallon. That's right, baby, with gas prices getting up to $4 by the end of the summer it'll pay for itself in miles to and from work.

The 1987 Honda Spree

My 2002 Honda Metropolitan

My favorite part so far has been pulling up to a stop light next to a dude on a big-ass Harley. He gave me the nod.

Hasn't the Lord Already Provided?

2008-04-11T14:22:00.002-05:00

This week I responded to a call that immediately brought to mind one of my favorite jokes. In fact, before we got back to the firehouse, the other medic was telling it:

A man is standing on his porch watching the rain fall in torrents. The water starts to rise around the foundation of his house and a friend in a huge truck drives by. Knowing that the water is rushing in the streets and that his neighbor will be stranded he says, "Come on, get in and I'll take you to higher ground." The man just smiles and waves him on. "Don't worry about me," he says. "The lord will provide." Later as the water is waist deep and it seems that no one in the neighborhood is left. A small boat approaches the man a lady call to him from it. "Come on, I have room for you. I can get you out of here!" The man just smiles as he replies, "You can go on. As for me, the lord will provide." The rains are relentless and by evening the situation looks grim. The man's house is a loss and he is on the roof, shivering in the storm. Soon he hears a helicopter approaching and a voice booming over a bullhorn. "Get into the basket and we will take you to safety!" The man musters a smile and cups his hands to his mouth and shouts, "I'm fine where I am! The lord will provide!"

That night the man dies, submerged in the flood waters that swept him from the roof of his house. When the man faces god in heaven, he is dismayed and confused. He asks, "Lord, I was so faithful, a witness for you telling everyone whom I met that you would provide. How could you forget me in my time of mortal need?" God replied, "Forget you? I provided neighbors and boats and rescue helicopters, what more did you need?"

The patient who brought this to our minds is a lady who is critically ill. She will probably die from her illness very soon. It has been more than a year since she experienced the first symptoms of her illness. I believe that if she had sought treatment at that time she could have spared herself immense pain and suffering, both physical and emotional. She has insurance and is financially stable. She has a family and transportation. She is relatively young and otherwise healthy. The reason that she did not seek medical intervention earlier is because she has a religious conviction that healing comes from god. I also believe that there is an element of denial in her particular situation. When she called 911 and I arrived on scene, I saw a woman who was very sick and very afraid. For the first time she was facing the fact that she was dying.

How should I respond to patients whose religious beliefs are so confusing to me? While I respect the differences, I become frustrated when a belief comes between my patient's health and my ability to help them.

Blog Famine Has Ended!

2008-03-29T13:13:00.003-05:00

I haven't exactly fallen off the face of Mother Earth, but it seemed that way for a while. Since I last wrote, I have been a bit on the busy side. After going through the application, testing and interviewing processes with two Kansas City metro fire departments, I took a Paramedic position with the Overland Park Fire Department. Yesterday we finished the academy and now I have two months of orientation with the crews before I will be on my own. Being a "probie" is harder than I expected, but I am pushing through just fine. I am very much looking forward to being on 24-hour shift again for the first time in years.

Anyway, I'll try to get back into the blogmosphere more often. Love to you all.

New Year's Resolutions

2007-12-28T08:33:00.000-06:00

Well, it's that time when we are all supposed to reflect on the past year and envision the next. As I walked into my warehouse store the other day, the entryway displays were all weight-loss suppliments, exercise equipment, and smoking cessation patches. I agree that getting in shape and being healthy are wonderful goals, but all of that seems like a canned answer. Isn't it easy to just choose from a list of the top 5 resolutions? I know that for years I have resolved the same thing, to get into great shape. Now it seems crazy to just keep naming the same thing each year knowing that I haven't changed much from the year before.

For 2008, I resolve to be more aware of my attitudes, beliefs and opinions. The resolution is not to change any one thing, but to examine myself in order to know who I am being and become the person I truly am.

I hope you all have a wonderful New Year's Eve and Day. Celebrate your socks off! You deserve it, look at how far you have come in the last 525,600 minutes. Then, get ready, get set, and go! The next year of your life is ready for the makeing. Enjoy!

Right Where You Are

2007-12-12T10:24:00.000-06:00

Well, it's been on the news all over the country so you know that Kansas City and a whole bunch of other places is under an icy shell. We were fortunate in that it hasn't nearly been as bad as predicted. My heart goes out to all the folks without warmth and light. I am sending warm thoughts and love to my friends in Oklahoma City right now.

Before the ice came, we had a nice little snow. And unlike the weather in OKC, snow in KC stays on the ground for a while. It has been nice to see a white glittery layer of fluffy snow on the yard. It helps remind me that it is the holidays and to get in the spirit, even in the cold. I hate the cold and the idea of it being this cold without the redeeming beauty of snow makes me want to crawl beneath my warm flannel sheets and stay there until spring.

Some people know how to make the best of the weather. I know this, not because I have met them, but because they left the evidence in plain sight near the bus stop at work. There are snow angels and a bunch of snowpeople hanging around the bus stop. My favorite thing about them is that one is way too big to have been built by a single person waiting for a bus. It's tall and each section would have been too heavy to lift without help. I love the idea that a couple people or more whose only relationship is a bus route became a community of something more with a shared vision and a couple inches of snow.

Shared Experience

2007-12-03T18:20:00.000-06:00

Here's a new one for me. It's a little experiment. Today at lunch Hipchick, Mandy and I had a couple of interesting moments. Although it was shocking and bothersome, we were already engaged in quite a good conversation. Plus, it would have been a little socially inappropriate to discuss it any more than we already did. So, we have decided that we should all blog it and see what reactions we get and how the others experienced it. So, here we go...

We were having a nice relaxed lunch at a local Indian restaurant. It's a place that we meet now and again with a really good lunch buffet with lots of vegetarian options for me. They have an enormous television in the wall so they play Indian pop music videos.

We were seated at a table next to a older couple. Mandy went to wash her hands and Hichick hadn't arrived yet. So, there I sat at the table alone. The woman from the table next to ours had gone to play with the Nepalese waitress's very cute baby. That's when the man sitting less than two yards from me puked. What? Your horror at reading this scene can't compare to mine. I expected that next there would be an embarrassed look and a quick payment of the tab preceding a dash for the door. Nope. This guy seemed completely unflapped by the whole thing. Mandy came back to the table and I didn't mention it.

What I never thought of as anything other than a freakish isolated incident then happened again. As he started choking, Mandy suggested that I might have to leap into psuedo-paramedic action and save his life. Then he went ahead and did the confetti yawn again for us all to witness. Again, he acted as if he had no more than sneezed. Mandy looked appropriately shocked. Hipchick soon arrived and we went about lunch without mention of the all too recent biological functions.

At some point in our conversation and lunch, Mr. UpChuck went about his yacking at the table one more time. I was speaking to Hipchick at the moment so I, in the flow of the comment I was making, mentioned, "oh yeah, and this guy vomits every ten minutes or so." Hipchick was just to about react in absolute shock and ask if I was serious when Chucky Chuckerton demonstrated. Mandy and especially Hipchick were a bit more disturbed than I had been. Afterall, I have had lots of exposure to people ralphing very near or on me. If I let it ruin my meal, I'm in for a lot of hungry days.

Even basic training offered me an opportunity to strengthen the stomach. One day I was instructed to "break ranks" and eat a meal with trainees who were much earlier in their training than I was. This means that they had not yet figured out how to pace themselves quickly eating something small to sustain them during the day instead of giving into primal hunger instinct and madly shoveling food into their mouths. The guy next to me tried to eat about half of a hamburger in one bite. He choked and as he was nearly lost consciousness a Training Instructor did a couple abdominal thrusts until the trainee puked on the table. On strong suggestion of the TI, the trainee thanked the TI for "saving his fucking life" then resumed eating. Not a single person at the table stopped eating during this entire event. We all just viewed it as nearly 60 seconds more time for us to eat our meals without TIs screaming at us and kicking our table.

Do you think that the ability to deal with vomit is learned, something to which we adapt over time or an inherent trait? What would you have done at the restaurant?

Just more me, me, me

2007-11-28T09:10:00.000-06:00

Well, I said I would stop yapping about me and get us rapping about important matters. But, evidently I was kidding. Not to mention, you took off with the last entry, so I get a freebie.

Yesterday, I officially graduated. I turned in my clinical uniforms and name badge. An envelope containing my various certification cards was given to me along with certificate of completion suitable for framing. The magic click was made on the computer. Voila! I have met all of the requirements of my paramedic training. No more school, no more clinicals. All I have to do is take the National Registry exam (similar to the nursing boards) and I'll have my license. Not quite the Pomp and Circumstance type of graduation that most folks imagine, but ours is a different line of work and we do things a bit different.

Right now I am nursing my own wounds. There is a fancy little group of muscles that meet at a ligament in the shoulder. They like to be called the rotator cuff. I have taken my rotator cuff for granted. Until last month, I could move my arm in pretty much all directions and do fancy things like tuck in my shirt, wash my hair and take of a t-shirt without any pain or much thought at all. Then, after a flu shot, many successive days of working with my arms above my head trimming shrubs and sawing limbs, everything I did with my left arm hurt or just didn't happen at all. Like any good medical professional, I took loads of ibuprofen and tried to ignore it for about a month. Then I gave in and went to the doctor. She gave me a dose pack of steroids and a bunch of extra strength anti-inflammatory drugs. She also told me that she thought I had a partial tear of the rotator cuff and that I need physical therapy. My physical therapist agrees that I have a partial tear and doesn't think that I will need surgery if I can strengthen surrounding muscles to protect the shoulder while it heals. So three days a week I go to PT and learn how to do really simple exercises. I hate slow processes.

Anyway, this really is all of the ranting about myself that I want to do for a while. So, back to the madness of the world.

Coming Up For Air

2007-11-16T11:57:00.000-06:00

Yes, that is right. I have surfaced again! Used to get a chance to update the blog on my lunch break at work, but now our technology department has tightened the leash yet again and blogs are inaccessible. So, with a slow dial up connection at home and a nazi-like internet warden at work, entries have been few.

Today I am at the library getting some studying done for my last paramedic exam. I passed the practical exam in the first round and all of my clinicals are complete. That means all that is left is the test still known as 'the written' even though it is now done on computer. I will probably take it in the next couple of weeks. I am confident, yet nervous.

The new house is coming along well, just much slower than I had hoped. Part of the problem is that I have a partial tear of my rotator cuff. My left shoulder has been steadily more painful over the past month despite my babying it and tons of ibuprofen. After seeing my doctor this week, I am now on steroids, a mega anti-inflammatory, and will have physical therapy 3 days a week for the next month. Crazy what being in your thirties can do to you, isn't it? On the upside, Mandy wired and put in a new light for the entry way since I couldn't work with my arms above my head. It looks great!

Well, now that we are somewhat caught up, I'll try to get back on topic and blog about some of the issues soon. Oh, and by the way, today is a Third Friday, so don't forget to talk to your friends, families and co-workers about what we can do to end this war in Iraq and support our troops by bringing them home now.

I Can Be Bought

2007-10-03T09:22:00.000-05:00

When I try to be aware of the consumer nature of our culture, I notice how completely saturated with advertisement we are. From the arenas named for corporations, to the tiny logos on free ink pens, our eyes are bombarded with colorfully disguised commercials all day long.

It is becoming harder and harder to decode the messages. I remember in second grade we did an exercise in which we opened the newspaper and decided which elements were purchased. As a elementary student, it didn't seem that hard to distinguish the ads from the news. 25 (or so) years later, older, and supposedly wiser, I find it much harder.

Product placement in television and movies seems so funny to me. (See Mike Myers in Wayne's World.) By far though my favorite is the over de-emphasis of a product. For instance, I am watching my favorite sitcom and I see a character drink from a distinctly shaped and colored glass bottle that I associate with a certain beer, but the label is removed. Or better yet, they put a similar design label on the bottle, but instead of the brand it just says, "BEER". To me that is best because it is as if the company has said, no we will not pay you to put our bottle in your actors' hands for two seconds. Then, the show does it anyway, I still 'see' that certain beer, but nobody gets the money! Fabulous, isn't it?

Here's my question: who gets paid when it comes to certain placements that seem to benefit both the endorser and the endorsee? For example, a very popular MP3 player has jazzy-schnazzy commercials on television. Each commercial features a song by a little known or up-and-comer. Clearly the exposure for the artist will benefit them. Usually the song sticks in my head and I end up downloading it or looking for the artist's CD, just like they want. But the catchy tune also makes me, and the consumer public, think of the MP3 player, just like the company wants. Who wins?

Now, while you surf for the answer to who paid whom in the above question, notice how many ads your favorite search engine is sending you. Chances are on the main search page you are seeing still ads, animated ads, a banner or two, and a little video commercial along with the less obvious "popular searches" links. Have fun, keep your wallet in your pocket.

Every Third Friday

2007-09-21T08:09:00.000-05:00

Beginning today, 21 Sept 2007, every third Friday of the month is a day for action. Iraq Moratorium is an organization which works to bring about and end to the war in Iraq. They have declared that every third Friday is a day for awareness, education, protest, and action regarding the war.

I personally am asking each of you to do your part. Show your support for the troops by demanding that we bring them home. Wear a black ribbon or armband. Write letters to your representatives. Tell your co-workers and friends about Iraq Moratorium. Don't buy fuel. Go to www.iraqmoratorium.org and sign the pledge. None of these things is hard to do or will take much of your time or money. Each of these is a simple way to show your support for the men and women who dedicate their service to freedom.

Yesterday, the official number of U.S. troop deaths in Operation Iraqi Freedom was 3,786. The number of wounded and returned to duty was 15,399 and the wounded who did not return to duty totaled 12,537. Those numbers will be updated at 1000hrs Eastern time today and every day. When you look at the new numbers, think of the people whose lives are changed by them; the families and friends of the fallen, the emotionally and physically scarred. In a mere 24 hours of this war so many lives will be irreparably changed. Is it worth it? If you can't say yes, today and every third Friday hereafter is your chance to be heard and make change.

The Best Birthday Ever!

2007-09-15T08:22:00.000-05:00

Wednesday was an absolutely incredible day. I had the day off work on my birthday, which in and of itself, felt like some kind of miracle. Little did I know that sleeping in until 0645 was only the beginning of the joy that the day would hold.

I kicked off the day by having coffee with my beautiful wife and getting her out the door to her job with Habitat for Humanity. Then I was out the door to my appointment with my therapist. She is the bombdiggity and I love rapping with her. As I said, there are two kinds of people in this world; the ones with therapists and the ones who need a therapist. From there, lunch at Quiznos with Hipchick. (They changed the menu, so if you liked the old veggie sandwich, make sure you tell them to make it the old way.) After a quick lunch and some good conversation, Hipchick and I were off to our appointments with Jessie at Freaks for some tattoos! I got to go first and I am now the proud owner of a gorgeous new tat on my left arm. It's a Celtic influenced tree of life with a trio of triquetras embedded. The colors are amazing. Photos are coming soon, I promise!

Now, you might think that with all of this excitement, the day would be complete, right? No, my friends. There is still more to come. In fact, with all of the excitement, I locked my keys in my truck at the tattoo shop and Mandy had to come rescue me.

Mandy and I headed out to the VooDoo Lounge for a concert by none other than the Indigo Girls! They rocked solid for about two hours. The crowd was loud and the music was incredible. We were standing 12 feet from them. It was definitely the best concert experience I have had.

How much would you pay now? But wait! There's more!

After the concert we got to go up the their green room and meet Amy and Emily in person. We chatted for a minute, took a picture, tried not to act like star struck fools. It was great. They both wished me a happy birthday (like it could be any better) and Amy complimented my t-shirt and my tattoo... Amy Ray likes my tattoo [sigh]. It was like beams of light coming down on me and angels singing.

So that pretty much sums up the birthday this year. I have to say that it more than made up for the kind of lame birthday on a navy base in Africa last year. Where can it go from here?

It Was a Religious Experience

2007-09-03T13:43:00.000-05:00

I was interested to learn that a certain sect of Buddhist folks have an annual tattoo festival...

"One of the strangest events in the Buddhist calendar is the annual tattoo festival which is held at Wat Bang Phra, a Buddhist temple in Thailand, in March. The temple is situated 30km from Bankgok in Nathorn Pratom province. Each year thousands congregate here, some to have designs tattooed freshly onto their bare flesh, others to have their existing ones blessed." - www.about.com

Follow this link for more info and some great pictures.

Attention Single People, Pick Up in Aisle Three

2007-08-31T07:59:00.000-05:00

Listen up all you single folks who aren't meeting people in the bars, at work, at church etc.; your future partner may be waiting for you in the paint department at the local fix-it-up store.

Prepping the new house for move in is a lot of fun and a lot of work. It requires many trips to the Home Depot and Lowe's. This week, I was stopping by Lowe's on my way home from a clinical to pick up smoke detectors (who lives in a home for 6 years and never gets a single smoke detector?!) an a paint mixer and to look at some paint colors. While getting the smoke alarms, I was party to a minor cart collision with a lady and her cart of wallpaper boarders. We exchanged 'excuse me's' and moved on. Then in the paint section, I again passed her and she asked if I was a Paramedic. Since I was wearing classic 6 pocket navy blue pants teeming with penlights, shears, hemostats, etc. and a shirt that reads "Paramedic Intern", my smartypants self replied, "Was it the scissors that gave me away?" She smiled and we moved on. Then, she came to the other side of the paint swatches, way on the other side of the island where the paint fume delirium employees sit like vultures. She wanted my help on selecting a color to go over her bright red fireplace. Telling her that I wasn't anything more than a beginner didn't stop her. She wanted my advice. I told her my opinions and wished her luck. My mistake was saying, "Remember, I'm no professional. So you can't sue me if it doesn't work out." She said, "No, I can't sue you because I don't know your name. I've been looking all over your uniform but don't see it." Whoa. Stop looking all over my uniform. I am so grateful that my name tag broke the other day. Now, just to find that color that perfectly matches my wedding ring...

The very next day I was at the Habitat for Humanity ReStore looking, again, for paint. This guy walks up and asks if I am good with colors. What is the deal? Did some dating website run an article about picking up people in the paint section? Has 'are you good with colors?' taken up where 'what's your sign?' left off? Again, my smart-ass spouts out an answer before my instincts catch up, "Yeah, I'm real good with colors. I got straight 'A's in kindergarten. This one is blue, this one is white." Again, the response is a smile. These people need to get out more. He tells me that he is building a house and it isn't really ready for interior paint yet, but he is dreaming about when it will be.

I have to say that if I was single and in the market meeting someone at a home improvement store would probably be a good thing. Far less creepy that a lot of the stuff that goes on in the bars and other places. I've never been a fan of the workplace romance. But unfortunately, that is where we spend most of our time as adults. So, if you find yourself looking for someone to date, help fix-up a room or just talk latex versus enamel, head on down to your local Habitat ReStore where there's likely more than just paint mixin' it up.

Dear Blogger, Thank You (It's About Damn Time)

2007-08-25T10:03:00.000-05:00

Well, well, well. Blogger has finally undone the one big downside of its new format: the inability to link to other profiles by interests! Now we can bounce gleefully from blog to blog discovering folks around the world that read the same books or listen to the same music. Or better yet, we can read the yin to our yang and learn a little something about the other side of the story.

As far as an update on my life, I don't blog much lately since I have an orientee with me on every single shift. We bought a house (closed yesterday) and therefore will be moving in the next couple of weeks. Clinicals are slowly but surely getting done. I should be done by mid October. We are going to California next month for a vacation and I will take my practical exam then. Or should I say we are going so that I can text and have chosen to make it into vacation. Other than that, Mandy's new job is about to start, my nephew is still cute as a bug's left ear, work is busy, life is good.

How are things with you?

When the Bough Breaks...

2007-08-09T09:46:00.000-05:00

Last night there was a pretty heavy storm which moved through the area. Power at our house flickered a couple of times, but we didn't even have to reset most of the clocks. As I drove to work, I noticed some limbs down. My drive to work is short, a few blocks of urban build mixed with a few blocks of city parkscapes. The parks are inhabited with homeless folks of all ages. On suggestion of our minister, I have adopted these people into my morning prayers. They are my neighbors in the geographical sense as well as the spiritual sense. I see them daily on my drives to and from work. I know their habits, favorite sleeping spots, meal times, etc. This morning, when I saw the broken limbs laying in the places where I am used to seeing people, I was sad. I wondered where they went to be safe from the storm. I wondered if they are alright. I wonder if the three men who usually sit and have breakfast together at a quarter to seven were together today, supporting each other and communing as usual.

Who You Gonna Call?

2007-07-20T15:51:00.000-05:00

If you got to have a two minute phone conversation with George W. Bush, what would you ask?

I'm No Imposter

2007-06-23T17:58:00.000-05:00

I have been told that I look like Harry Potter. I'm not seeing it. What do you think?

Everytime my hair gets a little shaggy, people start with the Harry Potter comments. Of course, it only gets worse when a book and/or movie is released. The first time I was called HP, was my first deployment to the desert. My hair grows fast and opportunities for any kind of good haircut are few and far between. The result is a cross between The Beatles, Harry Potter, and that chick from The Weakest Link. (You remember, the 'goodbye' lady.)

Do you get told that you resemble anyone famous or infamous?

Ah, City Chicks

2007-06-21T16:21:00.000-05:00

The other day I was at the Rose Garden in beautiful Loose Park searching for a geocache which has now vexed me not once, but twice. While trying to keep my cool, I started listening to the various commentaries on the flowers and the weather as people walked by. Then I heard this one:

"Aw, look at the cute little bunny rabbit!"

"Um, that?"

"Yeah, so cute"

"Uh, that is a squirrel."

Sure enough, she was pointing in the direction of a normal size, shape and color squirrel. It's tail was long and fluffy and it's ears were short. How can an adult person confuse a squirrel and a rabbit?

Drat! Tagged Again!

2007-06-18T10:46:00.000-05:00

Here I am to post eight random things about myself. It will be hard to do. Not because it is hard to find them, but because it is hard to identify what exactly is random. I have been exposed to me for about 30 years now, so random is sort of my normal environment. Let me see if I can first tease them out and then narrow them down to eight.

1. When I was a little kid, I ate a scrambled egg for breakfast almost every day. Then one morning mom asked if I was ready for my egg and I told her no and that I didn't like them. I didn't eat another egg for about 20 years. Now, I still don't like them, but respect them as a vehicle for salsa, cheese, etc.

2. While in college, I rappelled off of several of the campus buildings under cloak of night.

3. I have a few grey hairs and I love them. I can't wait until my hair is totally grey. I mourn a little when one of the grey ones falls out. Every day I spend a minute or two looking in the mirror for the silver wiry hairs. Each one makes me happy.

4. Sadly my only known allergy is to Frangelico, the tasty hazelnut liqueur in the monk shaped bottle. I love the taste, but itch like mad after having some.

5. My life's biggest frustration is that I have attended (and have credit from) 4 different colleges, have had only two majors, have twice as many hours as required for an associate's degree, but still have no degree. Bloody algebra!

6. In the past 6 years, I have stood on 5 different continents.

7. Twice I have performed advance surgical airway procedures on cow tracheas, just the trachea.

8. My "religion" is a mixture of Native American Spirituality, Buddhism, Neo Paganism, Protestant Christianity, Science, and Ancestor Worship.

Something a Bit Lighter

2007-06-11T14:57:00.000-05:00

Well, the conference is over. So now I actually have a bit of time to sit and catch up on email and other things in the land of blog. Although I could bore you with the details of the three day neonatal and pediatric transport event, I won't. It was a lot of work and a lot of fun and really quite good as it turned out.

Since the conference is not a topic for discussion, and I haven't thought of any thing else at all for the last several weeks, I'll offer this question. Summer is upon us and it is time for the strawberry shortcake. My recipe is angelfood cake with fresh strawberries and Cool Whip. Mandy goes for pound cake, fresh berries and Rediwhip. What about you? Are you making little shortcakes, using frozen sweetened berries and freshly whipped cream? I hear that some people substitute biscuits for the shortcakes. Anybody have the ultimate in strawberry shortcake and willingness to share it?

Rest Easy, Dubya Does

2007-05-14T18:39:00.000-05:00

In today's issue of US News and World Report...

"Despite the many gathering storms, visitors to the West Wing are often struck by how serene the place is. It all flows from Bush's own peace of mind. Aides say he jokes and relaxes as much as ever, makes sure to get away from the Oval Office for mountain-biking jaunts several times a week (keeping his blood pressure low and, he says, clearing his head). And he reports that he sleeps well at night and doesn't allow the pressure to get to him."

Not too bad for a guy with a 35 percent approval rating at a time when 66 percent of his country believes he is on the wrong track.

I can say from experience that many Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen and Marines and their friends and families aren't sleeping nearly as well. Personally, I'd love a bike ride to clear my head right now, but I have to work (several times a week) to "put food on my family". Bush knows all about that. And about clearing his head, how long do you think that takes?

Signs, Signs, Everywhere Signs

2007-05-13T11:52:00.000-05:00

Isn't it easy to stereotype in traffic? It sure is for me. Even though I try to be open minded, I often catch myself making all sorts of assumptions about other drivers. I'm guilty of labeling the elderly as slow, cell phone users as inattentive, SUV drivers as eco-terrorists, truck drivers as rednecks, tiny sportscar drivers as men having mid-life crisis, etc. Pretty ironic for a chick who drives a small pickup while talking on her cell phone, right? It just naturally comes to me. I am a semi-professional heckler. Do you want a witty quip to shout at someone? I'm your girl. Traffic is the ideal environment for this; "Hey Muffy and Chad (young couple in Escalade), your mom said to bring back a bit of the pate for Fifi. Enjoy the party! Oh, and don't get anything on your sweater."

If you want to fuel the fire, put ignorant stickers on your car. If you are proud enough to put your kids' names on the back window, don't be surprised when people harass them by name. If it is important enough for you to display that marriage equals a stick figure in a skirt plus a stick figure without a skirt, be ready for a discussion on algebra and skirts and marriage.

This just wouldn't be fair if I didn't lend myself to the game. So, I drive a truck, rarely wash it, and am often seen traveling with my beagle. That's not quite equal footing is it? How about this; a few weeks ago I made a sign with a dove holding an olive branch and the words, 'End This Stupid War'. It is about one foot by two feet and is on the passenger side. I thought that it would be fairly inciting. Interestingly enough, I have had very little response. The best was from a big rig driver on I-70 who was waving a peace sign and giving a thumbs-up. Maybe I'll have to rethink my idea on truckers.

Tag! I'm It!

2007-04-24T11:57:00.000-05:00

So, I have been 'tagged'. I realized that I had been so tagged on the same day that I had posted the previous (please continue to read and comment there). As I read Hipchickmamma's blog, I found out that she wants me to display to the world the top 6 things that make me weird. Come on, seriously. All this little exercise will do is illustrate to you all what I don't know about myself. I can already hear the comments... 'What about (x, y, and z)? Doesn't she know that is really weird?' Anyway, here I go!

1. My thoughts aren't in verbal form in my head. Evidently this is not the usual because other people I talk to about this say that they think in words and sentences.

2. I like to brush my teeth with warm water. It makes the toothpaste foam more and doesn't give me a headache in the morning.

3. My feet move a lot when I am thinking. Some people who know me well can tell about what I am thinking by how I move my feet. (My feet are moving right now.)

4. I make up words and regularly use them. For instance, lonious [lo-nee-us] refers to the qualities of a really comfortable thick pair of socks. i.e. 'I have to wear some lonious socks for this hike since my boots are new.'

5. My sister and I still re-enact events from our childhood, many of which originally were 'enacted'.

6. I hate movie theaters. To me, they are the most disgusting public establishments. I regard them as giant petri dishes teeming with pathogens of all sorts. I can hardly enjoy a movie and therefore usually opt to rent the DVD.

Okay, feel free to tell me what I missed. I know that you all are, hmm, interesting yourselves, so consider all of you tagged.

Do you have a couple more minutes to waste? Click here.

Cultivating Hope

2007-04-18T12:27:00.000-05:00

Like everyone else, Virginia Tech is on my mind. I have to admit that on Monday, simply because of proximity, something else was my biggest stressor. But, know that I have had some time to hear about it and to consider it, I am growing increasingly shocked by the event.

Today I got a email asking if I had been trained in responding to such things when I worked in campus law enforcement. Sure, it was discussed, just like it probably had been by the VT law enforcement. But, really how do you prevent this kind of thing?

This is not to be confused with the gun control debate, nor the debate on at what point law enforcement should be forced to intercede in someone's antisocial behavior. What I am asking is what causes violence? Is it something that is potentially inside of everyone? Is it something to which some are prone and others are immune? Is it a learned response (the video game argument)? Of something else all together?

I have theory that if society was more openly loving and compassionate as a whole, then fewer people would act out violence. The 'case studies' of school shooters and other violent persons usually contain the profile of the unloved kid, the outcast, the misunderstood, the friendless. First of all, if you didn't identify with any of that list, count yourself lucky. Most people, at some time, feel those things. A psychologist who specialized in the profiling of perpetrators of mass violence said that most of them have suicidal thoughts before acting out homicidal thoughts. Can you imagine the kind of despair that makes a person not only end his or her own life, but to kill others first? That person's life must be so dark that he or she can't even see the value of someone else's. I believe that if we bring so much love and compassion into the world that it's undeniable presence impacts the life of each person daily, there will be no more violence. Until we at least begin to address this as a goal, there is no point in forming committees to examine guns and schools and all of the other details. We need to look at the root cause so that we can stop wasting time, money, energy and lives on temporary solutions.

WARNING: Heresy to Follow.

2007-04-09T20:14:00.000-05:00

"Without Easter, Christmas would be meaningless." - Said by Bill in Moore, OK about 13 years ago.

What are we celebrating? Easter always confuses me. I dig the idea of setting aside time to reflect on newness of life and becoming the Christ, but why do we always have to wrap Easter violence? I don't know exactly how or when the Church (intentional capital) made the cross the focus of the sacrifice of Jesus. There is so much more to who Jesus was than just a victim of political execution. (Although, that is a pretty important piece of the whole.) If in the time of Jesus the mode of execution was something other than crucifixion, would we be wearing it around our necks? If we find out tomorrow that, without question, Jesus was hung, will we trade in our gold and silver cross pendants for little gallows? What is meant by the resurrection? I think that some people have confused the mythology of bodily resurrection with the making/becoming of the Christ. Theologically, I am in over my head. But I ask those of you who self identify as Christian: What is it Easter celebrates? Was Jesus literally pulseless, breathless and cold for 3 days?

Don't get me wrong. I have a true appreciation of the Easter spirit and of what Easter can be, but is that really apparent in the rush to church on Big Sunday in our new clothes?