I am a rabid football fan. I am schiziod in my allegiances. I have followed the University of Alabama since 1963 when I moved to Montgomery. I started out life in West Virginia, so I naturally like to see the Mountaineers win. I also like University of Florida where I sent a daughter and I like to see the home town 'Noles win because I sent a son and a another daughter through there.
My wife, Nancy, grew up in the shadow of Florida State University and graduated from Brigham Young University so she naturally is a rabid Georgia Bulldog fan. She likes to see the 'Noles win and of course her alma mater as well, but has done a lot of oozing over the bulldogs season.
My team, Alabama, (number one in the nation up 'til yesterday) got shellacked by the gamecocks of South Carolina. I was DEPRESSED afterwards. Maggie the wonder bassett felt it would be a good idea for her to take me for a walk after the loss to settle my nerves. She loves me and felt that a little squirrel and or rabbit chasing would improve my spirits. Nancy said to me as I we left the house, " Are you going to be OK." I told her, " I almost buried you back in April. I did bury one of my very best friends last week. This is a stupid football game. Of course I will be allright."
I once heard one of the leaders in my church say, " It is vitally important that we proceed through life looking at the world through the windshield rather than the rear view mirror." What a positive statement that is. There is a ton of stuff to get us down. Football games don't make a good sized pimple of importance on the buttocks of life in general.
I lost my job back in 2002. That will soon be 9 years ago. I could have drawn myself into a hole and put on 200 pounds and watched ESPN all day long and night. Living my life via the rear view mirror was not an option for me. I had a very successful 30 year career with a Fortune 500 company. They treated me fairly and I still get a pension from them. I decided to try real estate and have been a top producer in that realm from the first year. Now we are in the throws of a downturn in that business. Lots of soul searching as to what has gone on in the past to destroy that business along with the economy in general.
Tomorrow is a new day. Bama is going to win the rest of its games and play the Gamecocks in December in Atlanta for the SEC championship. After we beat them we are going to play Ohio State or Boise State for the national championship.
If and when this real estate economy turns around, I am going to go back to selling 3-4 million dollars of homes per year. I liked the way little orphan Annie put in "Annie" the motion picture.
" Tomorrow is just a day away." I also liked what coach Bobby Bowden said to Bert Reynolds in an episode of Evening Shade several years ago. The scenario was that Reynolds character wanted his son to play for Florida State. Coach Bowden went to talk with the boy as a courtesy to the Reynold's character. Reynolds was all depressed that the kid was not Seminole material. Bowden's parting comment was, " Football is only a GAME. !!"
Roll Tide and please pass the Kleenex.
Visit me on the web if you get bored at http://www.elvass.com
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Death, the enemy, or our friend?
I was walking by my neighbor's house here about a year ago and I saw the 85 year old wife sitting on the front porch alone. I had not seen her for a while so I walked towards her and greeted her. She seemed preoccupied. For the last several months I was aware of the fact that she had been suffering some rather severe dimentia. She did not acknowledge my cheery hello but instead said to me " Lee, I think I am going to have to place Dr. Townsend in a nursing home. " She went on to describe how he had been sleeping excessively and was not eating. I asked her if I could see him.
She took me to him. Sure enough, he was in his bed and cast a suspicious and wary eye on me. Now, here was a man whom I have lived by for the last 20 years. He was an active golfer for much of that time. He was retired from the Navy and had at one time been the commander of a significant base hospital. He was a physician and a very smart and friendly fellow. I liked him a great deal and always looked forward to running into him.
Now, here he was, obviously on the downslope of a pretty serious decline in health. I believe there may have been a bit of estrangement between he and his offspring based on the fact that none of them to my knowledge came to visit very often. Well I spoke with a neighbor across the street who was a nurse and their next door neighbors so we could begin a period of keeping them under close surveillance so that they would be in safe harbor.
We all responded and were doing pretty well getting him to see his doctor who prescribed meds to him and sent him on his way. Then came the day where he fell and could not get up. A call was made to 911 and the ambulance came. He resisted being transferred to the hospital because he knew the score. He was quoted as saying, " I just want to be left alone to die here in my own bed." Well he was transferred anyway and they diagnosed him as being dehydrated and having had a mild heart attack. They put him into ICU and kept him there for a couple of weeks.
In the meantime we made contact with a son and ended up having both of the sons come, one an attorney and the other a physician. The decision was made that he would be moved to be near one of them along with Mrs. Townsend. Dr. Townsend made the 18 hour trip in the front seat of his own car. Within 3 weeks we, the neighbors, got wind that he had passed away. He ws 90 years old. Echoing in my mind was his proclamation that he " just wanted to die in his own bed."
Here was a man who had practiced medicine over the course of a lifetime. He knew he was dying. He embraced it and accepted it. The rest of us could not just stand by and not seek some sort of intervention. He led a full, successful and pretty happy life. What would have been wrong with letting him die in his own bed?
I just delivered a eulogy for a friend of mine, Colin. You can read the eulogy if you like on the home page of my website, under "About". Colin had been diagnosed with cancer almost 10 years ago. I made his acquaintance and became his friend approximately 6 years ago. He was always sick and having to take radiation thereapy and ultimately chemotherapy the entire time I knew him. He loved life and did well for the extent of his illness for many years.
His son came and lived with him about 3 years ago and his daughter came within the last year. He was not alone. He would get to feeling better and then lose ground to the illness. He fought a long and brave battle. During his final days he suffered incredibly. Death came at almost midnight 9 days ago. His children and his beloved sister were beside him holding his hand as he passed away. Suddenly in as long as it takes to take a breath and let it out he was gone. The suffering stopped and he was at peace. He was 60 years of age.
My own Father in law contracted an illness akin to Lou Gehrig's disease. It was called a rediculo transverse myolopathy. In any event he was rendered parlyzed from his neck down, placed on a ventilator and had to be moved 250 miles away from his home to be supported in a ventilator hospital. He died after 6 years in that hospital on that ventilator. That was 13 years ago.
My mother in law lived to the age of 86 and got sick and died within 24 hours. She was surrounded by her entire immediate family as she took that last breath and surrendered to the reaper. Cancer took my father at 70 years of age. He was diagnosed in November and dead by mid December.
Is the reaper the enemy or is he our friend? In all of these scenarios I think he was a friend. I once read a quote by a philosopher who said," We fear death as if it were the greatest enemy. We do not know if it is the greatest good. How could anything as natural as death, designed by the Great Architect be bad? We live in the land of the dying. The next land ( for the believer ) is the land of the living. We die that we die no more." ( Neil Fugal, paraphrased ).
I suppose that someday we will all know, won't we? None of us are getting out of this world alive.
Lee Vass
http://www.elvass.com/
She took me to him. Sure enough, he was in his bed and cast a suspicious and wary eye on me. Now, here was a man whom I have lived by for the last 20 years. He was an active golfer for much of that time. He was retired from the Navy and had at one time been the commander of a significant base hospital. He was a physician and a very smart and friendly fellow. I liked him a great deal and always looked forward to running into him.
Now, here he was, obviously on the downslope of a pretty serious decline in health. I believe there may have been a bit of estrangement between he and his offspring based on the fact that none of them to my knowledge came to visit very often. Well I spoke with a neighbor across the street who was a nurse and their next door neighbors so we could begin a period of keeping them under close surveillance so that they would be in safe harbor.
We all responded and were doing pretty well getting him to see his doctor who prescribed meds to him and sent him on his way. Then came the day where he fell and could not get up. A call was made to 911 and the ambulance came. He resisted being transferred to the hospital because he knew the score. He was quoted as saying, " I just want to be left alone to die here in my own bed." Well he was transferred anyway and they diagnosed him as being dehydrated and having had a mild heart attack. They put him into ICU and kept him there for a couple of weeks.
In the meantime we made contact with a son and ended up having both of the sons come, one an attorney and the other a physician. The decision was made that he would be moved to be near one of them along with Mrs. Townsend. Dr. Townsend made the 18 hour trip in the front seat of his own car. Within 3 weeks we, the neighbors, got wind that he had passed away. He ws 90 years old. Echoing in my mind was his proclamation that he " just wanted to die in his own bed."
Here was a man who had practiced medicine over the course of a lifetime. He knew he was dying. He embraced it and accepted it. The rest of us could not just stand by and not seek some sort of intervention. He led a full, successful and pretty happy life. What would have been wrong with letting him die in his own bed?
I just delivered a eulogy for a friend of mine, Colin. You can read the eulogy if you like on the home page of my website, under "About". Colin had been diagnosed with cancer almost 10 years ago. I made his acquaintance and became his friend approximately 6 years ago. He was always sick and having to take radiation thereapy and ultimately chemotherapy the entire time I knew him. He loved life and did well for the extent of his illness for many years.
His son came and lived with him about 3 years ago and his daughter came within the last year. He was not alone. He would get to feeling better and then lose ground to the illness. He fought a long and brave battle. During his final days he suffered incredibly. Death came at almost midnight 9 days ago. His children and his beloved sister were beside him holding his hand as he passed away. Suddenly in as long as it takes to take a breath and let it out he was gone. The suffering stopped and he was at peace. He was 60 years of age.
My own Father in law contracted an illness akin to Lou Gehrig's disease. It was called a rediculo transverse myolopathy. In any event he was rendered parlyzed from his neck down, placed on a ventilator and had to be moved 250 miles away from his home to be supported in a ventilator hospital. He died after 6 years in that hospital on that ventilator. That was 13 years ago.
My mother in law lived to the age of 86 and got sick and died within 24 hours. She was surrounded by her entire immediate family as she took that last breath and surrendered to the reaper. Cancer took my father at 70 years of age. He was diagnosed in November and dead by mid December.
Is the reaper the enemy or is he our friend? In all of these scenarios I think he was a friend. I once read a quote by a philosopher who said," We fear death as if it were the greatest enemy. We do not know if it is the greatest good. How could anything as natural as death, designed by the Great Architect be bad? We live in the land of the dying. The next land ( for the believer ) is the land of the living. We die that we die no more." ( Neil Fugal, paraphrased ).
I suppose that someday we will all know, won't we? None of us are getting out of this world alive.
Lee Vass
http://www.elvass.com/
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Shooting and a lesson learned
I wanted to post on the subject of shooting. I am blessed to have good neighbors. One of my neighbors is Lamar. He is one of the nicest people I have ever met. He is also sort of a gun collector. We, on occassion, go down to the Wakulla County Sheriffs shooting range. If you own a gun then the problem persists as to where are you ever going to shoot it. Lamar and I solved that by going 40 miles down to the country. The sheriff there is very kind in that he opens up his facility to the public. On one recent excursion I learned a lesson concerning contrasts.
While Lamar and I were shooting our handguns at some innocent little paper targets there were some deputies apparently being qualified on their new assault rifles. We stood and watched them shooting and were amazed at the amount of fire power they held in their hands. It was impressive seeing them handle and perform with those weapons.
Now these were AR15's. They hold 30 rounds of ammo and you could squeeze those rounds off in a matter of seconds. After they run empty you just slap in another magazine and repeat. The ammo is lethal. It is about 2..5 inches long and would be coming at you so fast that it would be nigh unto impossible to avoid being hit, if you were the target. You ask yourself why do Sheriff's deputies have to have such a sophisticated piece of firepower? The answer is quite simplistic. Because the bad guys have all got assault rifles and anything else you can imagine.
Now I have to introduce you to Keith, one of my other neighbors. He is a retired cop with FDLE. He is another nice guy. Lamar and I got to speaking with Keith and he invited us into his house to look at a couple of guns that he was proud of. They were turn of the 19th century powder and ball muskets. They were quite impressive. He took them down off the wall and allowed us to heft them and look at them. These guns were responsible for helping us, as a country, to win our independence from Great Britain.
These smooth bore muskets were quite heavy. As I held the one of them I could not help but contrast what we had seen earlier down at the WCSO shooting range. In every Revolutionary or Civil war movie I ever saw, I recalled two lines of enemies facing off at one another and firing these guns point blank at the other guy. They had to shoot and then reload, filling the powder receptacle with powder and then putting a lead ball down the muzzle with a rod for that purpose. To shoot 10 rounds took them about 15 minutes. Another part of the story is that from 100 yards or more the balls fired were terribly innacurate and ineffective. The damage came from the soldier charging you and working you over with the fixed bayonettes.
I am 65 years of age. Somtimes the progress of mankind just dumbfounds me. Early in my career, just after college, I was administered a test by IBM as to whether or not I had any data processing aptitude. Turned out that I did. This was about 1970. My company wanted me to go off and let IBM train me up on a new data processing system that they were going to implement. I had just finished 4 years of hard work getting that BS and had enough. I passed on the opportunity, electing to be a sales and marketing guy.
I remember that we cleared out a room for the equipment. It was a room about 18x20 feet. There was a key punch station, card sorter and printer. That equipment looked like farm equipment. The little Blackberry that I hold in my hand today is abut 1000 times more efficient and 1,000,000 times faster than that stuff was.
My point is simply this ( and it is no epiphany ): This age we live in is so fast paced that it is almost impossible to keep up with it all. Somedays I feel like a cave man trying to keep up. But I keep trying. If I don't keep trying, life will knock me flat as one of those rounds from that AR15.
There are some sweet sides of it as well. I got a picture sent to me by my son in law of my two granddaughters selling lemonade in their driveway. How did it come? In an envelope with a stamp? No, it came through the airways onto my smartphone, seconds after it was taken. I watched 11 hours of football yesterday. BYU-FSU; 'Bama-Duke; Bulldogs and Razorbacks; LSU-So Miss.; Auburn-Clemson. I never left my recliner, except to get a snack. I watched on digital cable with high definition. It was better than being there.
I love it! Don't you?
While Lamar and I were shooting our handguns at some innocent little paper targets there were some deputies apparently being qualified on their new assault rifles. We stood and watched them shooting and were amazed at the amount of fire power they held in their hands. It was impressive seeing them handle and perform with those weapons.
Now these were AR15's. They hold 30 rounds of ammo and you could squeeze those rounds off in a matter of seconds. After they run empty you just slap in another magazine and repeat. The ammo is lethal. It is about 2..5 inches long and would be coming at you so fast that it would be nigh unto impossible to avoid being hit, if you were the target. You ask yourself why do Sheriff's deputies have to have such a sophisticated piece of firepower? The answer is quite simplistic. Because the bad guys have all got assault rifles and anything else you can imagine.
Now I have to introduce you to Keith, one of my other neighbors. He is a retired cop with FDLE. He is another nice guy. Lamar and I got to speaking with Keith and he invited us into his house to look at a couple of guns that he was proud of. They were turn of the 19th century powder and ball muskets. They were quite impressive. He took them down off the wall and allowed us to heft them and look at them. These guns were responsible for helping us, as a country, to win our independence from Great Britain.
These smooth bore muskets were quite heavy. As I held the one of them I could not help but contrast what we had seen earlier down at the WCSO shooting range. In every Revolutionary or Civil war movie I ever saw, I recalled two lines of enemies facing off at one another and firing these guns point blank at the other guy. They had to shoot and then reload, filling the powder receptacle with powder and then putting a lead ball down the muzzle with a rod for that purpose. To shoot 10 rounds took them about 15 minutes. Another part of the story is that from 100 yards or more the balls fired were terribly innacurate and ineffective. The damage came from the soldier charging you and working you over with the fixed bayonettes.
I am 65 years of age. Somtimes the progress of mankind just dumbfounds me. Early in my career, just after college, I was administered a test by IBM as to whether or not I had any data processing aptitude. Turned out that I did. This was about 1970. My company wanted me to go off and let IBM train me up on a new data processing system that they were going to implement. I had just finished 4 years of hard work getting that BS and had enough. I passed on the opportunity, electing to be a sales and marketing guy.
I remember that we cleared out a room for the equipment. It was a room about 18x20 feet. There was a key punch station, card sorter and printer. That equipment looked like farm equipment. The little Blackberry that I hold in my hand today is abut 1000 times more efficient and 1,000,000 times faster than that stuff was.
My point is simply this ( and it is no epiphany ): This age we live in is so fast paced that it is almost impossible to keep up with it all. Somedays I feel like a cave man trying to keep up. But I keep trying. If I don't keep trying, life will knock me flat as one of those rounds from that AR15.
There are some sweet sides of it as well. I got a picture sent to me by my son in law of my two granddaughters selling lemonade in their driveway. How did it come? In an envelope with a stamp? No, it came through the airways onto my smartphone, seconds after it was taken. I watched 11 hours of football yesterday. BYU-FSU; 'Bama-Duke; Bulldogs and Razorbacks; LSU-So Miss.; Auburn-Clemson. I never left my recliner, except to get a snack. I watched on digital cable with high definition. It was better than being there.
I love it! Don't you?
Friday, September 10, 2010
Mosque across from All Saints Church, Mayberry
Sometimes I think the media just tries to determine how riled up they can get everyone. This preacher in Gainesville could not have bought the publicity he has recently gotten for many millions of dollars. It has been intriguing to watch the national scribes whip the populace up into a frenzy.
You know, I don't really like the fact that this minister is going to burn copies of the Koran. Yet my logical mind tells me that if this guy had done this secretly and told no one then the world would still have continued to turn on it's axis. Of course then he would have remained the obscure little sociopath that he is. Do you suppose that this guy ever graduated from junior high school? Yet he has been contacted by the white house, Hilliary Clinton, General Petraeus, and on and on. He has much more notoriety than you and I do. Why? Because he is being used as the poster child for intolerance, bigotry and downright ignorance.
I know several people who are Muslim. I would just about have to say without any qualification that they are good, good people. They work hard and take care of their families. So what is the rub on these poor folks?
Well it is just like this. It is the extremists that we fear and loathe. Indeed we are at war with the extremists who brought down the twin towers. Why did they do that? Because they are nutcakes, intolerant, bigoted and ignorant. There is an organization named the Ku Klux Klan. What is their schtick? Intolerance, bigotry and ignorance. They started out as a means whereby the Protestant churches of the mid-1800's decided to deal with the question of slavery. The last time I checked the KKK is not doing all that well. It is a commentary on the many billions of dollars and time expended in corporate headquarters all over the globe holding diversity and sensitivity seminars that have tanked such intolerant organizations.
Now we see this phenomenon on our radar. It comes from the very people who have been the seedbed for the undoing of political incorrectness and bigotry over the years, the big media. This brouhaha has not been fostered by some little incidental BLOG. It has come about by the mainstream media. It is truly strange in derivation. I will admit, I just do not comprehend the whys and the wherefores of this tempest in a teacup.
I am a product of small town America. That gives me quite a bit of credit. Hillsdale, West Virginia is not a town it is a wide spot in the road. I am a disciple of the Andy Griffith era. I read this BLOG by Kay Campbell a Huntsville Times blogger and found it amusing. Take a look at it and see if you can decipher how Andy would have handled this mosque business.
http://blog.al.com/living-times/2010/09/what_would_andy_do_finding_fre.html#incart_hbx
You know, I don't really like the fact that this minister is going to burn copies of the Koran. Yet my logical mind tells me that if this guy had done this secretly and told no one then the world would still have continued to turn on it's axis. Of course then he would have remained the obscure little sociopath that he is. Do you suppose that this guy ever graduated from junior high school? Yet he has been contacted by the white house, Hilliary Clinton, General Petraeus, and on and on. He has much more notoriety than you and I do. Why? Because he is being used as the poster child for intolerance, bigotry and downright ignorance.
I know several people who are Muslim. I would just about have to say without any qualification that they are good, good people. They work hard and take care of their families. So what is the rub on these poor folks?
Well it is just like this. It is the extremists that we fear and loathe. Indeed we are at war with the extremists who brought down the twin towers. Why did they do that? Because they are nutcakes, intolerant, bigoted and ignorant. There is an organization named the Ku Klux Klan. What is their schtick? Intolerance, bigotry and ignorance. They started out as a means whereby the Protestant churches of the mid-1800's decided to deal with the question of slavery. The last time I checked the KKK is not doing all that well. It is a commentary on the many billions of dollars and time expended in corporate headquarters all over the globe holding diversity and sensitivity seminars that have tanked such intolerant organizations.
Now we see this phenomenon on our radar. It comes from the very people who have been the seedbed for the undoing of political incorrectness and bigotry over the years, the big media. This brouhaha has not been fostered by some little incidental BLOG. It has come about by the mainstream media. It is truly strange in derivation. I will admit, I just do not comprehend the whys and the wherefores of this tempest in a teacup.
I am a product of small town America. That gives me quite a bit of credit. Hillsdale, West Virginia is not a town it is a wide spot in the road. I am a disciple of the Andy Griffith era. I read this BLOG by Kay Campbell a Huntsville Times blogger and found it amusing. Take a look at it and see if you can decipher how Andy would have handled this mosque business.
http://blog.al.com/living-times/2010/09/what_would_andy_do_finding_fre.html#incart_hbx
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
What CPT code do you hit for "Friend therapy"?
A CPT code is coder language for how a healthcare provider bills your insurance for services. My physician son-in-law is on his way to a conference on this very subject as he begins his new career as a physician. I spent a week in Dallas when I worked for a healthcare company to learn as much as I could about ICD-9 codes and CPT codes in billing for a particular therapy in which my company was involved. Mind numbingly BORING.
So what is the point of my post today? I am never sure but here are some random thoughts about how we often receive therapy and are never billed for it. I have to take you back in time when I was a sales specialist for a drug called Revia (naltrexone HCl). Our indication, or license, was for alcoholism. This drug helped along with therapy and counseling to get alcoholics off the booze. It never was a big time winner but I was fairly successful with it. Anyways it was fun to talk about.
I remember being invited to a drug and alcohol treatment facility by our representative in Pensacola to speak with people about Revia. I also had an appointment with the sitting President of the Florida Psychiatric Association. This visit went very well. This physician/psychiatrist was keenly interested in what we had to tell him and it worked out to be a very nice interchange. We had a little time left at the end of our presentation and we were just sitting around shooting the bull with this brilliant physician. The local rep, Howard, threw a very thoughtful question out into the conversation. He asked, " Dr., when you are feeling sort of blue and low and disjointed, where do you go for therapy and answers to questions? I will never forget his response.
The physician looked thoughtfully at both of us and decided to give the question a response. This is what he said. " When I am having such a day as you describe I call a special friend. He is a man that is my age and makes his living as a tile setter. I went to kindergarten with him and ultimately graduated from high school with him. He and I climb onto a golf cart and spend 5 hours in pursuit of a dimpled spheroid. If I am in deep trouble, this visit could overlap into lunch or dinner. This man knows my soul and my heart. He always knows the right thing to say to me or not say to me. I always feel refreshed and enlightened after these sessions. I wish that my patients were to all have such a friend. Of course, I would soon be out of business if they all did."
I have often thought of that. I have a circle of friends that I play golf with and sometimes just go to lunch or breakfast with.. I have lots of acquaintances, numbering into the thousands. I have 256 facebook friends. However, there is only a small core of people that know my heart and soul. These are people that I count on. I am very fortunate that my wife is one of these people. I am also blessed that my son and daughters are in that circle. I also have 2 fine men who are married to my daughters that fill out this cadre of therapists. Along with it are little wider circle of people that I know from work, church, baseball, PTA, etc. They help me just when I sit and look at them. They square me up to the reality of important things.
No CPT code assessment is necessary in such therapeutic relationships. I wish that all people would avail themselves of such friends. There is also a wide army of people who are cynical, into private agendaes, selfish and painfully boring and opinionated. You know the type. You want to go hide in the bushes when you see them coming towards you.
So what is the point of my post today? I am never sure but here are some random thoughts about how we often receive therapy and are never billed for it. I have to take you back in time when I was a sales specialist for a drug called Revia (naltrexone HCl). Our indication, or license, was for alcoholism. This drug helped along with therapy and counseling to get alcoholics off the booze. It never was a big time winner but I was fairly successful with it. Anyways it was fun to talk about.
I remember being invited to a drug and alcohol treatment facility by our representative in Pensacola to speak with people about Revia. I also had an appointment with the sitting President of the Florida Psychiatric Association. This visit went very well. This physician/psychiatrist was keenly interested in what we had to tell him and it worked out to be a very nice interchange. We had a little time left at the end of our presentation and we were just sitting around shooting the bull with this brilliant physician. The local rep, Howard, threw a very thoughtful question out into the conversation. He asked, " Dr., when you are feeling sort of blue and low and disjointed, where do you go for therapy and answers to questions? I will never forget his response.
The physician looked thoughtfully at both of us and decided to give the question a response. This is what he said. " When I am having such a day as you describe I call a special friend. He is a man that is my age and makes his living as a tile setter. I went to kindergarten with him and ultimately graduated from high school with him. He and I climb onto a golf cart and spend 5 hours in pursuit of a dimpled spheroid. If I am in deep trouble, this visit could overlap into lunch or dinner. This man knows my soul and my heart. He always knows the right thing to say to me or not say to me. I always feel refreshed and enlightened after these sessions. I wish that my patients were to all have such a friend. Of course, I would soon be out of business if they all did."
I have often thought of that. I have a circle of friends that I play golf with and sometimes just go to lunch or breakfast with.. I have lots of acquaintances, numbering into the thousands. I have 256 facebook friends. However, there is only a small core of people that know my heart and soul. These are people that I count on. I am very fortunate that my wife is one of these people. I am also blessed that my son and daughters are in that circle. I also have 2 fine men who are married to my daughters that fill out this cadre of therapists. Along with it are little wider circle of people that I know from work, church, baseball, PTA, etc. They help me just when I sit and look at them. They square me up to the reality of important things.
No CPT code assessment is necessary in such therapeutic relationships. I wish that all people would avail themselves of such friends. There is also a wide army of people who are cynical, into private agendaes, selfish and painfully boring and opinionated. You know the type. You want to go hide in the bushes when you see them coming towards you.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
The colors of voting
I am an old man. On top of all that I am confused. When I was a young fellow, barely aware of politics in general, if you were a vehement Democrat, then you were referred to as a Yellow Dog democrat. If you were a vehement Republican then you were referred to as a Blue Dog republican.
Now I am watching a news channel some time ago and I will be ding danged if they didn't refer to a moderate democrat as a blue dog democrat. On top of all that wherein they used to color the states that went republican in general elections on the big board of states in blue on the TV. Now they color such states in red. I am so confused. Is it any wonder? When did they change all the colors around?
When I was a little boy, home sick with a fever, my Mom would bring me a coloring book with a box of Crayola colors. I always trusted those color crayons to make me feel better. I can still even smell the little guys. Now someone has changed all the colors around on me and I am suffering the early pangs of schizoid behaviour. Is it any wonder?
Another thing that I don't understand is the relative matter of voter apathy. I read this morning in our local rag that, on a good day, the turnout in a primary election is about 20%. The turnout in the last general election, which set some records, was 47%. Whaaaatttttt? You mean to tell me that 1 out of 5 people go to the polls in the very important primaries? 4.7 people out of 10 go vote in the general election? Why that is just preposterous.
Yet you hear almost 100% of the people grousing and complaining about our elected officials. I have those types in my family. I have an 82 year old aunt who complains almost nonstop about the President and our congress yet she has not voted in the past 40 years. I know that we all have similar stories to tell from within our own families.
It is a given that the right to vote has been preserved for us on the backs of our patriot fathers who spilled their blood to assure our voting rights. I can hear Yankee Doodle playing as I stroke this keyboard. It just does not make sense does it? I have observed the tea party movement which has established the fact that people are all P/O'd over the status quo. It will be interesting to see what sort of turnout we get at the polls in this primary round.
I don't get it. I just don't get it. It just portrays old fashioned stoopid. Speaking of STOOPID, take a look at this video of an elected official in our Congress and ask yourself if you think it matters that intelligent people exercise their franchise.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8yT48wiRue4
Now I am watching a news channel some time ago and I will be ding danged if they didn't refer to a moderate democrat as a blue dog democrat. On top of all that wherein they used to color the states that went republican in general elections on the big board of states in blue on the TV. Now they color such states in red. I am so confused. Is it any wonder? When did they change all the colors around?
When I was a little boy, home sick with a fever, my Mom would bring me a coloring book with a box of Crayola colors. I always trusted those color crayons to make me feel better. I can still even smell the little guys. Now someone has changed all the colors around on me and I am suffering the early pangs of schizoid behaviour. Is it any wonder?
Another thing that I don't understand is the relative matter of voter apathy. I read this morning in our local rag that, on a good day, the turnout in a primary election is about 20%. The turnout in the last general election, which set some records, was 47%. Whaaaatttttt? You mean to tell me that 1 out of 5 people go to the polls in the very important primaries? 4.7 people out of 10 go vote in the general election? Why that is just preposterous.
Yet you hear almost 100% of the people grousing and complaining about our elected officials. I have those types in my family. I have an 82 year old aunt who complains almost nonstop about the President and our congress yet she has not voted in the past 40 years. I know that we all have similar stories to tell from within our own families.
It is a given that the right to vote has been preserved for us on the backs of our patriot fathers who spilled their blood to assure our voting rights. I can hear Yankee Doodle playing as I stroke this keyboard. It just does not make sense does it? I have observed the tea party movement which has established the fact that people are all P/O'd over the status quo. It will be interesting to see what sort of turnout we get at the polls in this primary round.
I don't get it. I just don't get it. It just portrays old fashioned stoopid. Speaking of STOOPID, take a look at this video of an elected official in our Congress and ask yourself if you think it matters that intelligent people exercise their franchise.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8yT48wiRue4
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Youth baseball a mixed bag
I played Babe Ruth baseball, high school baseball and a little in college. After college, about 1970, I coached a Babe Ruth baseball team. When my son got to be 6 I started coaching again. I coached him until he was 14 and then I turned him over to Coach Bill Lord. My son went on to play shortstop at Lincoln High School and played at Tallahassee Community College. I am watching Sunday night baseball on ESPN as I type out this BLOG.
I was a baseball park president for 3 years. I had a great time doing that. It was just like running a small business. I had over 200 kids in my program. I had a budget of approximately $75,000. We trained umpires and worked them in our program. We took teams to state tournaments that caused us to have to raise $25-30k more at the end of the year.
My son was an All Star at every level he ever played. We should have rejoiced in that fact. However it was more of a curse than a blessing. We have had to cancel or fracture many vacation plans due to his baseball. We have had to hit the road, annoying friends and neighbors and relatives to raise many thousands of dollars to send his team to the next level.
I have done baseball up and down and I am here to tell you that it is frought with politics, unfairness and cheating. I remember a rather docile appearing lady who approched me, the park president, about coaching a team in our park. Coaches were hard to come by. We had a rule in our park that Fathers could not coach their own sons. They could be assistants and coach their sons but not head coaches. Well this lady, behind my back, turned her team over to someone else, called him the assistant and recruited his son and several of his friends to play on that team. In other words they loaded up a team. Someone wrote a letter to the editor to point out this cheating. I immediately fired both of the coaches and declared their sons ineligible as All Star selections. They left our park and played elsewhere. I never heard their names again so they did not do all that well. I remember telling this woman to consider what she was teaching her son,
" The rules are for everyone else, but you."
Then there was the man who approached me with a new air conditioner for our little concession stand. I was delighted because we did not have one and it was hot in that thing. I arranged to meet him at the park at the concession stand to receive this magnanimous gift. When I met him he said, " Before we unload this unit and install it, I would like to ask how my son is looking for All Stars?" I told him that I did not even vote on All Stars. Only the coaches did. I just made sure that the voting was fair. I then suggested that he better keep his air conditioner as it seemed to have a few strings attached.
The youth baseball parks were divided into 6 parks in a distinct geography. I cannot tell you how many people I caught lying to play in our park. Once we got to District tournaments we had to have parents produce utility receipts to prove they were in fact living within the proper boundaries of our park. TPRD made the boundaries and enforced them. If we played an ineligible player then you forfeited any and all games you won.
It is enough to sicken you about baseball. However, you have to seperate the game from the players and most especially their parents. In retrospect I have to say that I never had a complaint lodged by a player or an incident of cheating by a player. It was always the parents that brought the untoward demeanor. I have had to bar parents from coming to games, call law enforcement on them and generally watch them like a hawk.
Now I see that the Little League World Series has begun. You can watch all sorts of little tykes in uniforms on national television. You can learn what their favorite color, hobby, big leaguer, brand of bubble gum, video game, is ad nauseum. This all has such an aura of purity, all americanism and innocence.
I am here to tell you that it is rotten to the core all along the way. Someone has acted contrary to fair play and the rules to that TV spot. I speak from direct involvement and experience. Now I wonder what the betting line is on St. Petersburg , Florida vs. Canton, Ohio? Just kidding. That is whole different post.
I was a baseball park president for 3 years. I had a great time doing that. It was just like running a small business. I had over 200 kids in my program. I had a budget of approximately $75,000. We trained umpires and worked them in our program. We took teams to state tournaments that caused us to have to raise $25-30k more at the end of the year.
My son was an All Star at every level he ever played. We should have rejoiced in that fact. However it was more of a curse than a blessing. We have had to cancel or fracture many vacation plans due to his baseball. We have had to hit the road, annoying friends and neighbors and relatives to raise many thousands of dollars to send his team to the next level.
I have done baseball up and down and I am here to tell you that it is frought with politics, unfairness and cheating. I remember a rather docile appearing lady who approched me, the park president, about coaching a team in our park. Coaches were hard to come by. We had a rule in our park that Fathers could not coach their own sons. They could be assistants and coach their sons but not head coaches. Well this lady, behind my back, turned her team over to someone else, called him the assistant and recruited his son and several of his friends to play on that team. In other words they loaded up a team. Someone wrote a letter to the editor to point out this cheating. I immediately fired both of the coaches and declared their sons ineligible as All Star selections. They left our park and played elsewhere. I never heard their names again so they did not do all that well. I remember telling this woman to consider what she was teaching her son,
" The rules are for everyone else, but you."
Then there was the man who approached me with a new air conditioner for our little concession stand. I was delighted because we did not have one and it was hot in that thing. I arranged to meet him at the park at the concession stand to receive this magnanimous gift. When I met him he said, " Before we unload this unit and install it, I would like to ask how my son is looking for All Stars?" I told him that I did not even vote on All Stars. Only the coaches did. I just made sure that the voting was fair. I then suggested that he better keep his air conditioner as it seemed to have a few strings attached.
The youth baseball parks were divided into 6 parks in a distinct geography. I cannot tell you how many people I caught lying to play in our park. Once we got to District tournaments we had to have parents produce utility receipts to prove they were in fact living within the proper boundaries of our park. TPRD made the boundaries and enforced them. If we played an ineligible player then you forfeited any and all games you won.
It is enough to sicken you about baseball. However, you have to seperate the game from the players and most especially their parents. In retrospect I have to say that I never had a complaint lodged by a player or an incident of cheating by a player. It was always the parents that brought the untoward demeanor. I have had to bar parents from coming to games, call law enforcement on them and generally watch them like a hawk.
Now I see that the Little League World Series has begun. You can watch all sorts of little tykes in uniforms on national television. You can learn what their favorite color, hobby, big leaguer, brand of bubble gum, video game, is ad nauseum. This all has such an aura of purity, all americanism and innocence.
I am here to tell you that it is rotten to the core all along the way. Someone has acted contrary to fair play and the rules to that TV spot. I speak from direct involvement and experience. Now I wonder what the betting line is on St. Petersburg , Florida vs. Canton, Ohio? Just kidding. That is whole different post.
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