Sometime ago, when I graduated from high school, I got a summer job at the Pioneer Drive Inn at Hwy 61 and Hwy 244 in White Bear Lake. It was the first job other than lawn care and I still worked the lawn stuff early in the day and then went to the cafe at night.
It was a time of classic transitions----just a mile from the Pioneer Drive Inn, with its classic canopy and the drive up tray holders with the menu and voice system, construction was in progress on the very first McDonalds for White Bear Lake. In just a few months, McDonalds would be rolling out the menu of 25 cent burgers and coke and fries.....and the Pioneer would surely be out of business and sold. Everyone knew. These were the final days.
One of the regular fry cooks had suddenly quit to take a position on the dishwasher line at Whirlpool in St. Paul, and the back up fry cook position had opened up. I was the "gofer" for the early training period, and was trained to be respectful to our head honcho fry cook, "Tony". He was about 21, rode a brand new Harley, and was dating the head waitress, "Susie".
She sure was a beauty-----that Harley. It was a Duo Glide---and by all Harley enthusiasts it was the most beautiful Harley of all time. It was not the Electra Glide--that came next. This was the model with the kick start and the magneto, not the points. Click on the post for some pictures. And it was beautiful. OK. And so was Susie.
Every Saturday night, just about 11PM, when the traffic started to slow just a bit, Tony would turn to me and say, " Well, it's time to blow this pop joint," and he would ceremoniously toss the spatula to me to take over.
Then with a wink, and a smile, he would shout, "Let's go Susie".
He would quickly punch out his time card and the two of them would head out and mount the massive Harley parked neatly on the side of the restaurant, in eye's view of Tony at the grill.
There was something magical about the way those two took off from the Pioneer Drive Inn. Those were the golden early years of biking and------ As modern folks know..... riding back then was rough. Even with shocks front and back.....the bikes still vibrated a lot. The engines were not balanced like they are today.
Then of course you had the people that did not like bikers and would try and run em off the road. You had to be pretty tough back in those days. Those were the Outlaw days of biking.
My wheels were a 52 Buick with a straight stick. Needless to say, I was not in the league of those wild and crazy Harley guys. In fact. In retrospect. I was pretty darn lucky to be back up fry cook and be the recipient of that tossed spatula.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Sunday, December 24, 2006
"The Christmas Story"---a true story
Some years ago, I had the pleasure of being a computer salesman in a retail store. It was a cold and snowy Christmas Season, and as of December 15th, I had not seen the surge of Christmas Shoppers that I had expected. Then it happened.
One night right before closing, a young man entered the store and announced, " I am looking for a computer to give my child for Christmas."
"Alleluia," I silently exclaimed.
"Well " I said, "What are you looking for?"
" I want nothing but the best for my child," he replied.
So, I went and showed him the very best computer I had. I told him of the need for extra ram memory and also why a super resolution graphics card could be a big plus for him.
He was enthusiastic.
"I like what I see," he said. "I want the best."
I then went over monitors, and explained why a child might like a larger monitor so if several kids were playing at the computer, both could comfortably see the screen.
"I want the best," he exclaimed. "That high res. one looks best."
Then I happened to be playing a space rocket game and showed him how the high quality joy sticks worked and why they were expensive, but well worth it.
He tried his hand at the controls, and was impressed. " I want the best joy sticks you have."
I carefully wrapped all the equipment up and containing my excitement processed his Mastercard------it was approved. Bravo! It was the largest sale I had ever made. In my mind, I began ordering Chinese from the neighborhood restaurant for a special treat for the family.
Then I helped him load the equipment into his car.
"Merry Christmas," I exclaimed. "And by the way, how old is this lucky child of yours?"
"Two months," he said, "But he'll grown it. I want nothing but the best for my child. "
One night right before closing, a young man entered the store and announced, " I am looking for a computer to give my child for Christmas."
"Alleluia," I silently exclaimed.
"Well " I said, "What are you looking for?"
" I want nothing but the best for my child," he replied.
So, I went and showed him the very best computer I had. I told him of the need for extra ram memory and also why a super resolution graphics card could be a big plus for him.
He was enthusiastic.
"I like what I see," he said. "I want the best."
I then went over monitors, and explained why a child might like a larger monitor so if several kids were playing at the computer, both could comfortably see the screen.
"I want the best," he exclaimed. "That high res. one looks best."
Then I happened to be playing a space rocket game and showed him how the high quality joy sticks worked and why they were expensive, but well worth it.
He tried his hand at the controls, and was impressed. " I want the best joy sticks you have."
I carefully wrapped all the equipment up and containing my excitement processed his Mastercard------it was approved. Bravo! It was the largest sale I had ever made. In my mind, I began ordering Chinese from the neighborhood restaurant for a special treat for the family.
Then I helped him load the equipment into his car.
"Merry Christmas," I exclaimed. "And by the way, how old is this lucky child of yours?"
"Two months," he said, "But he'll grown it. I want nothing but the best for my child. "
Friday, December 15, 2006
"Uncommon Grief: Uncommon Courage"---a true story
Uncommon grief, Uncommon Courage; Or, What the real Top Gun School looks like; OR where I was last weekend.
I have been stopped everywhere lately by bloggers wondering whether I was "slacking" on the job Friday, Saturday and Sunday, because there were no posts. Normally, I don't go reverse chain of command, but I will respond to my blogger commanders. I was on the job observing the Twin City Marathon in St. Paul. First a little background.
My best friend in college was Mike Wraneshay. We had met in high school physics class where he handled the experiments and I wrote the reports. It was a pattern to follow always. In his senior year of high school, his dad, a superstar salesman, died suddenly of a heart attack. Mike then moved into the Midway area of St. Paul to live with his grandparents, and close to my family home, on Dayton Ave, almost identical to my current home on East Main, except there were historic lights on both sides of the street. When he graduated from college he became a Navy officer. His love was photography. I learned later that he was in Navy intelligence.
On completion of his Navy stint, he went into the Navy Reserve. One of the requirements of the Navy reserve was that everyone had to complete the 5 mile run and pass the eye test. Each year, both became more difficult. One August, when he was 40, I got the call. He had died suddenly after completing the 5 mile run. He left a wife and two small children. His friends and family were devasted. Navy pilots from all across the country, almost 100 of them, came to the funeral at Ft. Snelling.
A month ago, Mike's mom announced that Matthew, his son, was running the Twin City Marathon. Laverne was now 82 and she and a friend were going to the 22 mile mark to cheer him on. I explained that this was the "wall" and it might not be pretty. I felt I needed to go to be there with them.
I knew that Mike had died of an unusual clotting disorder. I hoped that Matt had gotten new medication that they had developed over the last 35 years. I dared not ask.
As I watched the runners at the 22 mile mark my mind went back to the last time I spent a week with Mike. It was the time I flew to Pensacola to drive with him home and tour the facility. It was a special weekend. The pilots were competing to see who would go to Top Gun school. It was a scene right out of the movie Top Gun. Except there were no female flight instructors. There were a lot of guys that looked like Tom Cruise.
Then Matt appeared at the 22 mile mark. We had a sign that said, "Hey, Hey, Wraneshay" . I gave him the ice and facecloth. Told him he was good to go and looked great. He did.
I wondered all the way home, how in the face of adversity and grief, Matt could gather the courage to run the marathon, or rather whether he had to run in order to conquer the fear. In any event, the words of the flight instructor in Top Gun came to me, "Up here, we have to push it. " Somehow he, and many others who have faced huge grief have found the courage to thrive beyond the grief. I salute Matt and all the others like him. For me, that is what Top Gun is all about.
When he had left, his grandmother, Luverne just smiled. "Well," she said, " You did good with the sign, Dick." "Let's just save it for next year and change the bib number."
I have been stopped everywhere lately by bloggers wondering whether I was "slacking" on the job Friday, Saturday and Sunday, because there were no posts. Normally, I don't go reverse chain of command, but I will respond to my blogger commanders. I was on the job observing the Twin City Marathon in St. Paul. First a little background.
My best friend in college was Mike Wraneshay. We had met in high school physics class where he handled the experiments and I wrote the reports. It was a pattern to follow always. In his senior year of high school, his dad, a superstar salesman, died suddenly of a heart attack. Mike then moved into the Midway area of St. Paul to live with his grandparents, and close to my family home, on Dayton Ave, almost identical to my current home on East Main, except there were historic lights on both sides of the street. When he graduated from college he became a Navy officer. His love was photography. I learned later that he was in Navy intelligence.
On completion of his Navy stint, he went into the Navy Reserve. One of the requirements of the Navy reserve was that everyone had to complete the 5 mile run and pass the eye test. Each year, both became more difficult. One August, when he was 40, I got the call. He had died suddenly after completing the 5 mile run. He left a wife and two small children. His friends and family were devasted. Navy pilots from all across the country, almost 100 of them, came to the funeral at Ft. Snelling.
A month ago, Mike's mom announced that Matthew, his son, was running the Twin City Marathon. Laverne was now 82 and she and a friend were going to the 22 mile mark to cheer him on. I explained that this was the "wall" and it might not be pretty. I felt I needed to go to be there with them.
I knew that Mike had died of an unusual clotting disorder. I hoped that Matt had gotten new medication that they had developed over the last 35 years. I dared not ask.
As I watched the runners at the 22 mile mark my mind went back to the last time I spent a week with Mike. It was the time I flew to Pensacola to drive with him home and tour the facility. It was a special weekend. The pilots were competing to see who would go to Top Gun school. It was a scene right out of the movie Top Gun. Except there were no female flight instructors. There were a lot of guys that looked like Tom Cruise.
Then Matt appeared at the 22 mile mark. We had a sign that said, "Hey, Hey, Wraneshay" . I gave him the ice and facecloth. Told him he was good to go and looked great. He did.
I wondered all the way home, how in the face of adversity and grief, Matt could gather the courage to run the marathon, or rather whether he had to run in order to conquer the fear. In any event, the words of the flight instructor in Top Gun came to me, "Up here, we have to push it. " Somehow he, and many others who have faced huge grief have found the courage to thrive beyond the grief. I salute Matt and all the others like him. For me, that is what Top Gun is all about.
When he had left, his grandmother, Luverne just smiled. "Well," she said, " You did good with the sign, Dick." "Let's just save it for next year and change the bib number."
The Retirement Rule, Or; The Story of Uncle Bill
The Retirement Rule, Or; The story of Uncle Bill
The last two years before his death, Bill hung on at 3M rather than retire. He was the director of transportation--directed all the trucking nationwide. He had a stroke. He got demoted. The folks at work turned mean. There were the usual cruelties. And the unusual cruelties.--like having to train the folks that will replace you. Through it all, he was patient. Stoic.
He had thought of retirement enough. Even had ordered a Surburban, fully loaded. A little over list price. With the full trailer package.
About a month before he died, he got to drive it to Chicago to see his daughter, who was a physical therapist.
It was his last trip. He never did pull the trailer.
He died never having realized his dream, as so many people do----he had not made a practice of travelling while he was young....
So--the rule---
Travel early and often. Get in the habit.
The last two years before his death, Bill hung on at 3M rather than retire. He was the director of transportation--directed all the trucking nationwide. He had a stroke. He got demoted. The folks at work turned mean. There were the usual cruelties. And the unusual cruelties.--like having to train the folks that will replace you. Through it all, he was patient. Stoic.
He had thought of retirement enough. Even had ordered a Surburban, fully loaded. A little over list price. With the full trailer package.
About a month before he died, he got to drive it to Chicago to see his daughter, who was a physical therapist.
It was his last trip. He never did pull the trailer.
He died never having realized his dream, as so many people do----he had not made a practice of travelling while he was young....
So--the rule---
Travel early and often. Get in the habit.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
"Focus"
"Focus"
Recently the Observer did a bit of garage saleing and happend to find a new set of car mats with the large word "FOCUS" on them. Even though my daughter will be driving a Dodge K-car, I thought it a wonderful nurturing idea that with this little reminder of her father to look at each time she entered her car, she might be very focused on the responsibilties of driving.
]
So---it is with some embarassment that I admit losing FOCUS during the recent school board meeting in Evansville on Monday night.
Right after the discussion of the 4K Kindergarten, breathing a deep sigh of relief that my recording seemed to be good, I was so surprised by a request by School administration that I was speechless. I know this may be hard to imagine. Bear with me.
Administration asked the school board to allocate $5000 for travel and entertainment expenses to research the alternatives to the 4 period day. Keep in mind that for the 60 years or so prior to 1997 when the 4 period day was installed, we had the 7 period standard day in our schools.
Asking for travel and entertainment for this research was a little like a married person who was considering divorce to request travel and entertainment expenses to review what the bachelor life was like. Just because something might have changed that was worth reviewing..... Whoa.
So. It may be that the board was a little stunned by this request as well. I am not sure. However----I wanted to apologize for this lack of FOCUS on my part. I promise to do better in the future.
I would be willing to place the FOCUS car mats in the Lincoln for one week as a fit and proper punishment if my readers demand it. I think a week is long enough for me to get the message.
So--I am not sure whether the board approved this request or whether this is still on the table. I am on the job.
Stay tuned to The Evansville Observer for breaking news. Remember. We break the news other folks just write about.
Recently the Observer did a bit of garage saleing and happend to find a new set of car mats with the large word "FOCUS" on them. Even though my daughter will be driving a Dodge K-car, I thought it a wonderful nurturing idea that with this little reminder of her father to look at each time she entered her car, she might be very focused on the responsibilties of driving.
]
So---it is with some embarassment that I admit losing FOCUS during the recent school board meeting in Evansville on Monday night.
Right after the discussion of the 4K Kindergarten, breathing a deep sigh of relief that my recording seemed to be good, I was so surprised by a request by School administration that I was speechless. I know this may be hard to imagine. Bear with me.
Administration asked the school board to allocate $5000 for travel and entertainment expenses to research the alternatives to the 4 period day. Keep in mind that for the 60 years or so prior to 1997 when the 4 period day was installed, we had the 7 period standard day in our schools.
Asking for travel and entertainment for this research was a little like a married person who was considering divorce to request travel and entertainment expenses to review what the bachelor life was like. Just because something might have changed that was worth reviewing..... Whoa.
So. It may be that the board was a little stunned by this request as well. I am not sure. However----I wanted to apologize for this lack of FOCUS on my part. I promise to do better in the future.
I would be willing to place the FOCUS car mats in the Lincoln for one week as a fit and proper punishment if my readers demand it. I think a week is long enough for me to get the message.
So--I am not sure whether the board approved this request or whether this is still on the table. I am on the job.
Stay tuned to The Evansville Observer for breaking news. Remember. We break the news other folks just write about.
Coffee Reflection: When "Tall" is "Small", "Freedom"..."Imperialism?"
Coffee Beat: Where "Tall" is "Small"---Starbucks raises prices
When ordering a Starbucks, one must always, sleepy as one might be at the time, focus and order the "Tall" and not the "small" coffee etc. There is an entire world where at Starbucks words don't mean what they used to.
O.K. So you rightly point out that it is not just coffee. We seem to be having a larger problem here. Maybe this phenom has affected politics---- where freedom might just mean imperialism and democracy might just mean terror interrogation.....
O.K. it's infected employment...education....ok. well...everything. But.. I need some coffee here....let's focus on the coffee....
The prices on Starbucks drinks have been raised. Click on the post for the details.
Back in the old days, folks could actually make coffee themselves and use a rotary phone. Now it is very important to sip the coffee slowly while talking on a real or maybe a fake cell phone.
Remember the slogan of Caribou Coffee---"Life is short. Stay awake for it."
It's raining this morn, and I'm listening to Bob Dylan singing "Rainy Day Women," and I do agree that a Starbucks would be great right now. Whatever the cost.
When ordering a Starbucks, one must always, sleepy as one might be at the time, focus and order the "Tall" and not the "small" coffee etc. There is an entire world where at Starbucks words don't mean what they used to.
O.K. So you rightly point out that it is not just coffee. We seem to be having a larger problem here. Maybe this phenom has affected politics---- where freedom might just mean imperialism and democracy might just mean terror interrogation.....
O.K. it's infected employment...education....ok. well...everything. But.. I need some coffee here....let's focus on the coffee....
The prices on Starbucks drinks have been raised. Click on the post for the details.
Back in the old days, folks could actually make coffee themselves and use a rotary phone. Now it is very important to sip the coffee slowly while talking on a real or maybe a fake cell phone.
Remember the slogan of Caribou Coffee---"Life is short. Stay awake for it."
It's raining this morn, and I'm listening to Bob Dylan singing "Rainy Day Women," and I do agree that a Starbucks would be great right now. Whatever the cost.
"Reflection---Pennywise .....Pound foolish"--a true story
Penny Wise, Pound Foolish; or, The Story of the Red Duster--a true story
Some years back, when my wife and I were first married, she drove a bright red Plymouth Duster. It was a great running car. It was the only car she had ever bought new.
As newlyweds, we were lucky to move into a recently bought home. I thought of myself as a pretty shrewd budgeter, but even with penny pinching, the budget was tight. During the first winter, one of the coldest in Minnesota history, we noticed that the radiator was leaking in that little red Duster. The problem of course----we did not have anything in the auto repair budget, and I naturally thought we could delay.... At least til next month.... After all.... Antifreeze was pretty cheap in those days. It was important to be on budget.... And tough minded.
Ah the folly of youth. Ah the learning curve etc.
The engine seized up and froze. Total loss.
Thus. In reviewing a budget, the key thing is to remember what the mission is. To focus. Not on just the pennies, but the big picture. The lesson of the Duster is one that I have been constantly reminded of--by my wife. And a lesson I have learned from. Yes. Even the Observer could learn these things.
And yes. When you review the effort of the Evansville School District to eliminate the Half Day Kindergarten?
Think of that little Red Duster. Focus on the mission.
Some years back, when my wife and I were first married, she drove a bright red Plymouth Duster. It was a great running car. It was the only car she had ever bought new.
As newlyweds, we were lucky to move into a recently bought home. I thought of myself as a pretty shrewd budgeter, but even with penny pinching, the budget was tight. During the first winter, one of the coldest in Minnesota history, we noticed that the radiator was leaking in that little red Duster. The problem of course----we did not have anything in the auto repair budget, and I naturally thought we could delay.... At least til next month.... After all.... Antifreeze was pretty cheap in those days. It was important to be on budget.... And tough minded.
Ah the folly of youth. Ah the learning curve etc.
The engine seized up and froze. Total loss.
Thus. In reviewing a budget, the key thing is to remember what the mission is. To focus. Not on just the pennies, but the big picture. The lesson of the Duster is one that I have been constantly reminded of--by my wife. And a lesson I have learned from. Yes. Even the Observer could learn these things.
And yes. When you review the effort of the Evansville School District to eliminate the Half Day Kindergarten?
Think of that little Red Duster. Focus on the mission.
Wednesday, December 6, 2006
"The Hearth Effect"-----a true story
The Hearth Effect
Sometimes because of early Choir practice, we give a neighbor gal, "C" a ride to school. One morning, she was a bit early and noticed we had installed a new wood pellet hearth and we droned on how happy we were with it. Her home is heated with a wood furnace, so they had been natural gas independent for some time.
I explained that in "olden times" like the 1930's (my mother in law told me so) young kids would awake in the morn and run down to stand around the wood stove to get warm. And also, in the cold winter evenings, families would gather around the fire to stay warm and play games. They did not have cd players or i-pods in those days. It was really a way of keeping families close.
"C" thought for a moment. Then she said, "Well, it seems it was really just a choice between staying warm with the family or freezing to death in the bedrooms? That doesn't seem like a very fair choice."
"Yes," I said, "that was the choice."
Such a wonderful way to keep families together. And as more and more families are switching away from natural gas to alternative, the closer we may all become.
It's just freeze or stay warm together.
I will leave it up to you. You make the call.
Sometimes because of early Choir practice, we give a neighbor gal, "C" a ride to school. One morning, she was a bit early and noticed we had installed a new wood pellet hearth and we droned on how happy we were with it. Her home is heated with a wood furnace, so they had been natural gas independent for some time.
I explained that in "olden times" like the 1930's (my mother in law told me so) young kids would awake in the morn and run down to stand around the wood stove to get warm. And also, in the cold winter evenings, families would gather around the fire to stay warm and play games. They did not have cd players or i-pods in those days. It was really a way of keeping families close.
"C" thought for a moment. Then she said, "Well, it seems it was really just a choice between staying warm with the family or freezing to death in the bedrooms? That doesn't seem like a very fair choice."
"Yes," I said, "that was the choice."
Such a wonderful way to keep families together. And as more and more families are switching away from natural gas to alternative, the closer we may all become.
It's just freeze or stay warm together.
I will leave it up to you. You make the call.
"On Lost Hubcaps"; or "Why Bent Rims are Deadly"; Or Reflections of a Junk Yard Dog
On Lost Hubcaps; Or, Why Bent Rims Are deadly; Or Reflections of a Junk yard dog.
As any parent knows who has seen a young teen or college student return a car after a lot of use, it can be quite a shock. The lost hubcaps, the bent or broken side mirrors (insert you own list here).
A lost hubcap can be an expensive thing, if one buys them retail. Factory dealer specials. However, after losing several, I went to the junkyard..... my favorite being Prestige Salvage, cause I like the "prestige," I asked my junk yard dog, "How come I am losing so many hubcaps?"
"It is pretty simple," he said. "You keep losing the hubcaps, cause the rims are bent. You can bend a rim by hitting a curb, a big pot hole, running into a parking lot concrete barrier...lots of ways. When the rims get bent, the hubcap comes off, and more importantly, the tire can deflate cause the rim is bent. So.....it can be a DEADLY thing. Most of the cars here in the junkyard have bent rims. There were some deadly accidents. So, lost hubcaps are not just a small matter. They are a big warning flag.
When you drive through Evansville, look for all the cars that are missing hubcaps. Makes you worry. Makes you wonder.
( My editor, a woman, says she doesn't care about hubcaps. How bout you? You make the call.
As any parent knows who has seen a young teen or college student return a car after a lot of use, it can be quite a shock. The lost hubcaps, the bent or broken side mirrors (insert you own list here).
A lost hubcap can be an expensive thing, if one buys them retail. Factory dealer specials. However, after losing several, I went to the junkyard..... my favorite being Prestige Salvage, cause I like the "prestige," I asked my junk yard dog, "How come I am losing so many hubcaps?"
"It is pretty simple," he said. "You keep losing the hubcaps, cause the rims are bent. You can bend a rim by hitting a curb, a big pot hole, running into a parking lot concrete barrier...lots of ways. When the rims get bent, the hubcap comes off, and more importantly, the tire can deflate cause the rim is bent. So.....it can be a DEADLY thing. Most of the cars here in the junkyard have bent rims. There were some deadly accidents. So, lost hubcaps are not just a small matter. They are a big warning flag.
When you drive through Evansville, look for all the cars that are missing hubcaps. Makes you worry. Makes you wonder.
( My editor, a woman, says she doesn't care about hubcaps. How bout you? You make the call.
Monday, November 27, 2006
"The Plenty Rule"---a true story
"The Plenty Rule"
While many a man would like to puke hearing women constantly go over, "Well how did that make you feel," ad nausaum, the one area that it is appropriate----is the one area that it is least applied----namely money and the sense of security or plenty.
Too often those revered financial planners---mostly men---possibly only folks that have passed some sort of exam that equates security with amounts of life insurance and mutual funds in hand--pontificate in a very abstract way that makes customers wonder---and rightfully so.
I would suggest that it is talked about in such mathematical terms since the investment in insurance and stocks is so high that one must begin at the age of 7 in order to make the numbers come out.
Phil Laut, famous author of "Money is My Friend," went over the essential rule in a Saturday morning seminar held at the St. Paul Hotel some 20 years ago. His rule was that if a person did not have a sense of plenty, even though lots of money was accumulated, that person was destined to lose it. This concept shocked me. Being a rational guy and all.
The feeling or anxiety of scarcity would cause that person to screw up and make inappropriate investments and lose. On the contrary, the person who had a sense of plenty even though poor had a better foundation for gaining a great wealth and keeping it----and being wealthy in every sense of the word.
So.
Is Plenty a feeling? Or is Plenty a fact?
You make the call.
While many a man would like to puke hearing women constantly go over, "Well how did that make you feel," ad nausaum, the one area that it is appropriate----is the one area that it is least applied----namely money and the sense of security or plenty.
Too often those revered financial planners---mostly men---possibly only folks that have passed some sort of exam that equates security with amounts of life insurance and mutual funds in hand--pontificate in a very abstract way that makes customers wonder---and rightfully so.
I would suggest that it is talked about in such mathematical terms since the investment in insurance and stocks is so high that one must begin at the age of 7 in order to make the numbers come out.
Phil Laut, famous author of "Money is My Friend," went over the essential rule in a Saturday morning seminar held at the St. Paul Hotel some 20 years ago. His rule was that if a person did not have a sense of plenty, even though lots of money was accumulated, that person was destined to lose it. This concept shocked me. Being a rational guy and all.
The feeling or anxiety of scarcity would cause that person to screw up and make inappropriate investments and lose. On the contrary, the person who had a sense of plenty even though poor had a better foundation for gaining a great wealth and keeping it----and being wealthy in every sense of the word.
So.
Is Plenty a feeling? Or is Plenty a fact?
You make the call.
"The Checking Account Rule"---a true story
The Checking Account Rule
As a young man, I remember reconciling my bank statement at the family table one Sunday afternnon---thinking myself quite sophisticated in the ways of the world. I turned to my Dad and asked him why I never remembered him balancing his checkbook.
He said, "Well, every couple of years I just close the account and start a new one. "
This blew me away. My dad lived so far below his means, he never had to worry about money. Indeed, I never remember an argument about money. There were times of worry about dying and illness. But never worry about money.
As a young man, I remember reconciling my bank statement at the family table one Sunday afternnon---thinking myself quite sophisticated in the ways of the world. I turned to my Dad and asked him why I never remembered him balancing his checkbook.
He said, "Well, every couple of years I just close the account and start a new one. "
This blew me away. My dad lived so far below his means, he never had to worry about money. Indeed, I never remember an argument about money. There were times of worry about dying and illness. But never worry about money.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
"On the Theory of Love Equity"
Ed. note. The Observer has felt remiss that he has been unable to weigh in on the current tabloid speculation regarding Jen and whomever, or even Paris Hilton. It is so hard to do analysis in the checkout line. So, I have offered this short article instead.)
Recently at a local meeting, the word "equity" was used so often that it brought back memories of contract law----yes, there are actions on the contract and then actions on the basis of "equity." It has been a long time. Too bad that "Ambulance" has been silenced. Ah, the good old days when a wild and crazy discussion was possible. But---I digress. The word "equity" brought back memories of a time some thirty years ago when I thought I had driven the stake in the heart of one foolish theory---the theory of "love equity." Maybe you have heard of this theory.
As a young married man, one of my friends who was the first of the guys to get married, was watching Monday night football with me, when he went over the fact that because he had gotten married first.....and since all the younger guys seemed to be reveling in the new morality, that....well...he felt that he had been cheated out of his just due...... his "love equity". It just was not "fair."
The more he discussed his "love inequity," the more he seemed to become agitated. So....I let him talk...and talk...and talk...till the first half of football had ended. The Vikings were winning so I thought I could proceed with some friendly advice.
I then gently asked him whether he thought maybe the stories of his peer group might be exaggerated concerning their exploits or let's just say the large amount of "love equity" that they were experiencing. He said he had never thought of the possibility. I asked him to consider that sometimes guys did exaggerate. The thought shocked him.
Now that I had gotten his attention, I simply asserted that I knew that his wife did love him and that to run around on her would be a foolish mistake. Now that he had two kids, things had changed. Love had matured...hopefully. It was not like the movies.
Thirdly, I mentioned that he might benefit from some counseling----I always thought it prudent to recommend counseling for those who had feelings of "love equity deficit."
Thus, recently I have heard some weird "equity" analysis regarding the 5K controversy-----Is it possible to do a broad based diversity analysis on a sample of 12 vs. a sample of 1200 and reach any conclusion at all? Can folks who give not a wit about tolerance or diversity be suddenly concerned about "inequity." Can folks who sacrifice for their children be spun to be "rich" and not worthy of access to public education that fits their child's educational need?
For me----- It is about choice. I believe parents can make the choice which is best for their child.
For those who believe that the taxpayer should pay for the "level playing field" encompasing every perceived matter than one can be subject to inequity------------I say to them the same thing I told the confused fellow during Monday night football.
Counseling.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 8:02 AM
Recently at a local meeting, the word "equity" was used so often that it brought back memories of contract law----yes, there are actions on the contract and then actions on the basis of "equity." It has been a long time. Too bad that "Ambulance" has been silenced. Ah, the good old days when a wild and crazy discussion was possible. But---I digress. The word "equity" brought back memories of a time some thirty years ago when I thought I had driven the stake in the heart of one foolish theory---the theory of "love equity." Maybe you have heard of this theory.
As a young married man, one of my friends who was the first of the guys to get married, was watching Monday night football with me, when he went over the fact that because he had gotten married first.....and since all the younger guys seemed to be reveling in the new morality, that....well...he felt that he had been cheated out of his just due...... his "love equity". It just was not "fair."
The more he discussed his "love inequity," the more he seemed to become agitated. So....I let him talk...and talk...and talk...till the first half of football had ended. The Vikings were winning so I thought I could proceed with some friendly advice.
I then gently asked him whether he thought maybe the stories of his peer group might be exaggerated concerning their exploits or let's just say the large amount of "love equity" that they were experiencing. He said he had never thought of the possibility. I asked him to consider that sometimes guys did exaggerate. The thought shocked him.
Now that I had gotten his attention, I simply asserted that I knew that his wife did love him and that to run around on her would be a foolish mistake. Now that he had two kids, things had changed. Love had matured...hopefully. It was not like the movies.
Thirdly, I mentioned that he might benefit from some counseling----I always thought it prudent to recommend counseling for those who had feelings of "love equity deficit."
Thus, recently I have heard some weird "equity" analysis regarding the 5K controversy-----Is it possible to do a broad based diversity analysis on a sample of 12 vs. a sample of 1200 and reach any conclusion at all? Can folks who give not a wit about tolerance or diversity be suddenly concerned about "inequity." Can folks who sacrifice for their children be spun to be "rich" and not worthy of access to public education that fits their child's educational need?
For me----- It is about choice. I believe parents can make the choice which is best for their child.
For those who believe that the taxpayer should pay for the "level playing field" encompasing every perceived matter than one can be subject to inequity------------I say to them the same thing I told the confused fellow during Monday night football.
Counseling.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 8:02 AM
Sunday, October 1, 2006
Wellness: Illness: The Politics of Sacrcity: On Ivan Illich
I told the story recently about out patient surgery, and the revolution that I witnessed in Minneapolis some thirty years ago as one innovative administrator disregarded the spreadsheets and focused on the mission of health--care, and not the mission of sickness care.
The reflection on that last point---wellness vs. sickness was the result of a study group among the administrative team. Our young intern at that time was Mark Stolpman, who I believe was a grad student from a univesity in DC and was reading the works of Ivan Illich. One of his first books was called "Medical Nemisis." The date of this story is 1976. Seems like just yesterday for me.
The thesis of the book was that we have become as a society obsessed with "illness" care and not "health" care. We are treated as patients only when the problem has resulted in an illness and can be treated with some surgery or pharmacy, and not earlier when it would have been more productive. The true healer is one who treats the patient far earlier, and far more inexpensively.
Well----this was a hospital. With doctors who made their living treating sickness. And paid very well for it. Imagine their enthusiasm on hearing that some adminstrators were reading such revolutionary books filled with such threatening ideas.
Mark Stolpman, after reading and sharing the book "Medical Nemisis" with us, made a recommendation that we as a hospital begin a "wellness program." It would be the first in the state. You can imagine the reception of the doctors. They moved in executive committee to have Mark fired. Sound familiar?
The head adminstrator intervened. He said that wellness would be no threat and that if the medical staff would have some patience with the idea, it would prove otherwise in short order. Again he was proved right. Soon all the hospitals began wellness programs. They became the hot "in" health program. Our hospital became a leader in "wellness" as well as "outpatient surgery."
Growing out of the wellness movement, were such things as the running craze, 5k fun runs, fitness centers, HMO care, and much, much more. Yes, before 1977 folks were active but they never were "totally buff" like they are today. Just kidding.
At the very center of this idea is the idea of SCARCITY vs. Plenty. The traditional notion of health care was that sickness care was expensive and scarce, and it had to be fought over. Ivan Illich goes over in his book that this is focusing on the wrong thing---focusing on the hole and not the donut. By focusing on the wellness and plenty of life and enabling the patient of all ages to begin a program of healthy living, one could transform the very nature of life to a higher level.
So---when you think HMO care or running or the fitness craze...Think of the father of these, who was Ivan Illich.
Oh, by the way----he also wrote a book called "DeSchooling." I bet you can guess what that is about. More on that later.
The reflection on that last point---wellness vs. sickness was the result of a study group among the administrative team. Our young intern at that time was Mark Stolpman, who I believe was a grad student from a univesity in DC and was reading the works of Ivan Illich. One of his first books was called "Medical Nemisis." The date of this story is 1976. Seems like just yesterday for me.
The thesis of the book was that we have become as a society obsessed with "illness" care and not "health" care. We are treated as patients only when the problem has resulted in an illness and can be treated with some surgery or pharmacy, and not earlier when it would have been more productive. The true healer is one who treats the patient far earlier, and far more inexpensively.
Well----this was a hospital. With doctors who made their living treating sickness. And paid very well for it. Imagine their enthusiasm on hearing that some adminstrators were reading such revolutionary books filled with such threatening ideas.
Mark Stolpman, after reading and sharing the book "Medical Nemisis" with us, made a recommendation that we as a hospital begin a "wellness program." It would be the first in the state. You can imagine the reception of the doctors. They moved in executive committee to have Mark fired. Sound familiar?
The head adminstrator intervened. He said that wellness would be no threat and that if the medical staff would have some patience with the idea, it would prove otherwise in short order. Again he was proved right. Soon all the hospitals began wellness programs. They became the hot "in" health program. Our hospital became a leader in "wellness" as well as "outpatient surgery."
Growing out of the wellness movement, were such things as the running craze, 5k fun runs, fitness centers, HMO care, and much, much more. Yes, before 1977 folks were active but they never were "totally buff" like they are today. Just kidding.
At the very center of this idea is the idea of SCARCITY vs. Plenty. The traditional notion of health care was that sickness care was expensive and scarce, and it had to be fought over. Ivan Illich goes over in his book that this is focusing on the wrong thing---focusing on the hole and not the donut. By focusing on the wellness and plenty of life and enabling the patient of all ages to begin a program of healthy living, one could transform the very nature of life to a higher level.
So---when you think HMO care or running or the fitness craze...Think of the father of these, who was Ivan Illich.
Oh, by the way----he also wrote a book called "DeSchooling." I bet you can guess what that is about. More on that later.
Friday, September 22, 2006
"My Plans for you are Peace...and NOT disaster; When you call on me...I will answer you."
This is one of the bible readings that Don Sheehan had us read as business owners back in 1982. The point for us at that time was the providence of God in our lives, and the dire consequences for us personally if we did not believe that we could and would be survivors.
The more I reflected on this saying over the years, the more I reflected in the sense of "Peace" that my father had in his life, and how he achieved it facing the difficulties he did. He faced Parkinsons with courage and grace. It was pretty stunning in retrospect.
Rather than focusing on the duplicity, difficulty or just plain evil in the world I found it helpful to review my dad's way of finding peace and trying to do likewise.
The more I reflected on this saying over the years, the more I reflected in the sense of "Peace" that my father had in his life, and how he achieved it facing the difficulties he did. He faced Parkinsons with courage and grace. It was pretty stunning in retrospect.
Rather than focusing on the duplicity, difficulty or just plain evil in the world I found it helpful to review my dad's way of finding peace and trying to do likewise.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
The Story of Rollie
(Ed. note. This is a true story. Some names have been changed to protect the innocent.
Years ago, I worked in a large metropolitan hospital. Yes--- it was stressful but challenging work. One of the nice things about the work was the very bright and interesting people I got to know. One person, Rollie, was a medical technician. He was married to a wonderful girl, Sherrie. Rollie had a very dry sense of humor and had a very laid back relaxed style that put everyone at ease. Patients asked for him. I never did figure out how he could be so calm and collected always. Anyway.
In the mid-seventies a medical equipment manufacturer was looking for someone to use their equipment to travel between several hospitals to perform tests. It was a start up company. They had big bucks on the line. They wanted a person to administer the tests that could develop the business and who would inspire confidence. The first person that came to mind was ----Rollie.
Now Rollie and Sherrie were newly married. They had dreams of a new home. Lots of Dreams. Rollie accepted the job. It paid very well.
As Rollie began to travel from hospital to hospital, patients and staff discovered what all of us knew about Rollie. How dependable he was. What a wonderful and thorough tech he was. His relaxed style put patients at ease. Patients began asking for him.
The business began fairly slow. Soon other hospitals learned about Rollie. Soon doctors heard about Rollie. His schedule became full. Phones were ringing.
The directors of the new start up company met. They were all smiles. Their personal checks each month were rising monthly. They tried hard to contain their excitement. They were going to be rich. This was a homerun.
Soon cases piled up. Rollie asked for help to meet the demand. The board met. They considered themselves "old school." Someone remembered an old saying from one book they had read on management--- "Whatever it takes." They decided that Rollie should be paid more but work as long as it took to get the work done.
One night coming home near midnight, Rollie almost fell asleep at the wheel. Sherrie was at the door to meet him. One look between them and they knew.
Rollie resigned the next day. The company was shocked. They offered him more money....lots more money. Rollie just said, "I want my life back."
Don't worry. Rollie was hired within 24 hours by another firm. He went on to a very successful career. His former company however....was in a difficult bind.
So. They hired a replacement. Then they hired a second replacement. Then they hired a third replacement. It took three people to replace Rollie.
Years ago, I worked in a large metropolitan hospital. Yes--- it was stressful but challenging work. One of the nice things about the work was the very bright and interesting people I got to know. One person, Rollie, was a medical technician. He was married to a wonderful girl, Sherrie. Rollie had a very dry sense of humor and had a very laid back relaxed style that put everyone at ease. Patients asked for him. I never did figure out how he could be so calm and collected always. Anyway.
In the mid-seventies a medical equipment manufacturer was looking for someone to use their equipment to travel between several hospitals to perform tests. It was a start up company. They had big bucks on the line. They wanted a person to administer the tests that could develop the business and who would inspire confidence. The first person that came to mind was ----Rollie.
Now Rollie and Sherrie were newly married. They had dreams of a new home. Lots of Dreams. Rollie accepted the job. It paid very well.
As Rollie began to travel from hospital to hospital, patients and staff discovered what all of us knew about Rollie. How dependable he was. What a wonderful and thorough tech he was. His relaxed style put patients at ease. Patients began asking for him.
The business began fairly slow. Soon other hospitals learned about Rollie. Soon doctors heard about Rollie. His schedule became full. Phones were ringing.
The directors of the new start up company met. They were all smiles. Their personal checks each month were rising monthly. They tried hard to contain their excitement. They were going to be rich. This was a homerun.
Soon cases piled up. Rollie asked for help to meet the demand. The board met. They considered themselves "old school." Someone remembered an old saying from one book they had read on management--- "Whatever it takes." They decided that Rollie should be paid more but work as long as it took to get the work done.
One night coming home near midnight, Rollie almost fell asleep at the wheel. Sherrie was at the door to meet him. One look between them and they knew.
Rollie resigned the next day. The company was shocked. They offered him more money....lots more money. Rollie just said, "I want my life back."
Don't worry. Rollie was hired within 24 hours by another firm. He went on to a very successful career. His former company however....was in a difficult bind.
So. They hired a replacement. Then they hired a second replacement. Then they hired a third replacement. It took three people to replace Rollie.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
When Denial is the Only Weapon
Sunday, June 03, 2007
When "Denial" is the only weapon
Over a lifetime, I have become somewhat a specialist in "Denial." When I worked in a health care setting years ago, I picked up a book on Death and Dying and reviewed the four stages of loss----denial, anger, bargaining, and finally acceptance. The problem was, of course, those of us in a health setting rarely saw anything but the first two stages. And I came to a simple amazement of the power of denial in grief, loss, and in a lot of areas of life.
Denial gives me the power to run or bike and pretend that I am 18. Too much awareness of the total risks of life would be too much. A little denial is good. Anything is still possible. Without a little blocking, enthusiasm might be somewhat difficult.
Two other great weapons are blame and resentment. Whenever there is change, count on those two emotions.
This coming week is the week of graduation. It is also a time of huge risk of death on the highway. I hope we as a community, beginning with parents and teens, can pledge not to drink and drive.
Now is the time for responsibiity, not blame. It is the time to see and not be blind to what is clearly before us.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 9:03 PM
1 comments:
When "Denial" is the only weapon
Over a lifetime, I have become somewhat a specialist in "Denial." When I worked in a health care setting years ago, I picked up a book on Death and Dying and reviewed the four stages of loss----denial, anger, bargaining, and finally acceptance. The problem was, of course, those of us in a health setting rarely saw anything but the first two stages. And I came to a simple amazement of the power of denial in grief, loss, and in a lot of areas of life.
Denial gives me the power to run or bike and pretend that I am 18. Too much awareness of the total risks of life would be too much. A little denial is good. Anything is still possible. Without a little blocking, enthusiasm might be somewhat difficult.
Two other great weapons are blame and resentment. Whenever there is change, count on those two emotions.
This coming week is the week of graduation. It is also a time of huge risk of death on the highway. I hope we as a community, beginning with parents and teens, can pledge not to drink and drive.
Now is the time for responsibiity, not blame. It is the time to see and not be blind to what is clearly before us.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 9:03 PM
1 comments:
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
"The Pea Green Carpeting"--a true story
There is a philosophy of buying that one must concentrate on like a Zen monk. One must strive in all things--to reverse the pattern of human emotions.
When fear is in the street----One must concentrate on greed.
When everyone is gasping with delight on how high the stock market has gone and how much they are worth---giggling like they have been sipping fine whiskey-----
Sell.
My brother-in-law---Mark Hector--gave the family a great example when he purchased his first home in Hopkins. It was just a simple rambler---but it had been neglected....big time. The front room was carpeted in a dark pea green that made even the most ardent buyer vomit on entrance to the home.
What turned overyone else off---got Mark excited. He could visualize the new gold carpeting and the fireplace roaring and his wife and he celebrating the remodeling.
He made the owner an offer---a ridiculously low offer. He pointed out all the things that needed to be corrected. The seller refused the first offer. That was good. Left him a little pride. Then Mark made him an offer, just a bit higher.
Bingo.
Even today, when my wife an I are out shopping or looking at homes and I see some pea green carpeting----she just smiles and says------"No way." She knows that given the killing Mark made on that home, I will always have a weakness for pea green carpeting.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 10:07 PM
When fear is in the street----One must concentrate on greed.
When everyone is gasping with delight on how high the stock market has gone and how much they are worth---giggling like they have been sipping fine whiskey-----
Sell.
My brother-in-law---Mark Hector--gave the family a great example when he purchased his first home in Hopkins. It was just a simple rambler---but it had been neglected....big time. The front room was carpeted in a dark pea green that made even the most ardent buyer vomit on entrance to the home.
What turned overyone else off---got Mark excited. He could visualize the new gold carpeting and the fireplace roaring and his wife and he celebrating the remodeling.
He made the owner an offer---a ridiculously low offer. He pointed out all the things that needed to be corrected. The seller refused the first offer. That was good. Left him a little pride. Then Mark made him an offer, just a bit higher.
Bingo.
Even today, when my wife an I are out shopping or looking at homes and I see some pea green carpeting----she just smiles and says------"No way." She knows that given the killing Mark made on that home, I will always have a weakness for pea green carpeting.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 10:07 PM
Saturday, June 3, 2006
"The Sermon"--- a true story
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
The Sermon
On of the traditions in our family back in the 50's was the tradition of the after church quizz. As a means of making sure my sister, Susie and I were paying attention at Church, we were asked questions about it on the way home in the car. Soon we made game of it. We were a bit competitive I guess. We tried to outdo each other as to the finer points of the sermon.
Then Fr. Jackson came to the parish. He fashioned himself an orator of sorts. He was very, very organized. Each sermon was organized in outline. You might wonder how I know. Well. He shared the outline with the parish so we could follow along with the supreme logic of the sermon.
I still remember--it's been 50 years or so---- to this day his sermon "On Love." Once the title was out of his lips, I winked to my sister that this is one we needed to pay attention to. As any inquisitive teen, I was alert for any new information. I was all ears.
Then Fr. Jackson began his sermon. His first section, or "A" was on the general properties of 'Love." Points, 1,2,3. Then "How" God loves us was section "B" and then, logically, "C" covered the "Why" God loves us. Needless to say, there was no new information. It seemed that God had a pretty tightly organized love process.
Anyway, I still remember the ride home from Church. It was pretty quiet. Very quiet. In fact---- too quiet. So...I thought I would open with the first question......."Well..Susie, what did you think of point B2?"
Then both Susie and I burst out in uncontrollable laughter.
Then Mom interjected, "Now kids, that's just enough,.....enough. "
That was the end of the analysis.
I guess that Fr. Jackson was the winner over all the years though. We did remember each and every one of the points. It's just that we never did find love to be as organized as life unfolded. Alleluia.
The Sermon
On of the traditions in our family back in the 50's was the tradition of the after church quizz. As a means of making sure my sister, Susie and I were paying attention at Church, we were asked questions about it on the way home in the car. Soon we made game of it. We were a bit competitive I guess. We tried to outdo each other as to the finer points of the sermon.
Then Fr. Jackson came to the parish. He fashioned himself an orator of sorts. He was very, very organized. Each sermon was organized in outline. You might wonder how I know. Well. He shared the outline with the parish so we could follow along with the supreme logic of the sermon.
I still remember--it's been 50 years or so---- to this day his sermon "On Love." Once the title was out of his lips, I winked to my sister that this is one we needed to pay attention to. As any inquisitive teen, I was alert for any new information. I was all ears.
Then Fr. Jackson began his sermon. His first section, or "A" was on the general properties of 'Love." Points, 1,2,3. Then "How" God loves us was section "B" and then, logically, "C" covered the "Why" God loves us. Needless to say, there was no new information. It seemed that God had a pretty tightly organized love process.
Anyway, I still remember the ride home from Church. It was pretty quiet. Very quiet. In fact---- too quiet. So...I thought I would open with the first question......."Well..Susie, what did you think of point B2?"
Then both Susie and I burst out in uncontrollable laughter.
Then Mom interjected, "Now kids, that's just enough,.....enough. "
That was the end of the analysis.
I guess that Fr. Jackson was the winner over all the years though. We did remember each and every one of the points. It's just that we never did find love to be as organized as life unfolded. Alleluia.
"The Party"--- a true story
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
The Party
(The following story is true, and is in memory of Art Buchwald, who was on PBS21 last night and in an interview from a hospice, announced he was disconnecting from dialysis.)
It had been a rough week in the hospital business. Right in the middle of the busiest time of the year, the auditors had decided to ask lots of little questions, most of which were not important, a fact that one could not mention even in hushed tones to anyone.
In the midst of all this, I left the business office to get lunch and as I approached the general information desk, I noticed the hospital entrance----filled with balloons to the ceiling and a crowd of 40 folks gathered around laughing and chatting.
They had a certain high tone of voice that I vaguely remembered from family gatherings when I was a kid, when everyone had come from neighboring states and the chit chat had begun, and yes, after the first martini's had been served, shaken not stirred.
So, I said to the volunteer. " I really would like some of what they are drinking."
"Oh no, Mr. Woulfe, they're not drinking. Mr. Johnson is having his party because he has gone off the machines."
"Oh", I said. Looking at Mr. Johnson, I noticed his joy in reveling with all his friends that day, and also a tinge of pride in having a choice in the details of his life right at the end. It was a picture I have never forgotten.
I noticed that pride last night in Art Buchwald's eyes on channel PBS21 McNeil Leher Report. He said that ever since he has been in hospice he has had friends come from all over the country to see him. "I never thought dying could be such fun," he quipped.
(Art buchwald is the author of 20 books, over 5000 columns, which appeared in 550 newspapers worldwide. He claimed that since Henry Kissinger departed from Washington, he was the only sex symbol left in Washington. )
Posted by Evansville Observer at 7:35 AM
The Party
(The following story is true, and is in memory of Art Buchwald, who was on PBS21 last night and in an interview from a hospice, announced he was disconnecting from dialysis.)
It had been a rough week in the hospital business. Right in the middle of the busiest time of the year, the auditors had decided to ask lots of little questions, most of which were not important, a fact that one could not mention even in hushed tones to anyone.
In the midst of all this, I left the business office to get lunch and as I approached the general information desk, I noticed the hospital entrance----filled with balloons to the ceiling and a crowd of 40 folks gathered around laughing and chatting.
They had a certain high tone of voice that I vaguely remembered from family gatherings when I was a kid, when everyone had come from neighboring states and the chit chat had begun, and yes, after the first martini's had been served, shaken not stirred.
So, I said to the volunteer. " I really would like some of what they are drinking."
"Oh no, Mr. Woulfe, they're not drinking. Mr. Johnson is having his party because he has gone off the machines."
"Oh", I said. Looking at Mr. Johnson, I noticed his joy in reveling with all his friends that day, and also a tinge of pride in having a choice in the details of his life right at the end. It was a picture I have never forgotten.
I noticed that pride last night in Art Buchwald's eyes on channel PBS21 McNeil Leher Report. He said that ever since he has been in hospice he has had friends come from all over the country to see him. "I never thought dying could be such fun," he quipped.
(Art buchwald is the author of 20 books, over 5000 columns, which appeared in 550 newspapers worldwide. He claimed that since Henry Kissinger departed from Washington, he was the only sex symbol left in Washington. )
Posted by Evansville Observer at 7:35 AM
Friday, April 7, 2006
"That I might see; That I might hear: " --classic Observer
Friday, November 03, 2006
"That I might see"; "That I might hear"
(Ed.note. Whenever the Observer finds an unusual sermon locally, I will try to summarize it for my faithful readers. In case some might have missed it. I have long been a reader of printed sermons, such as Jonathan Edwards, etc. In times gone by, this was an established area of literature, and rhetoric. )
Last Sunday a local pastor in Evansville gave a sermon that was pretty remarkable. It was on the blind man at the side of the road. Yes, there are several of them in the gospels, but in this one story, the blind man is told to shut up and be still. The Lord hears the commotion and says, "Bring him to me." A little teaching lesson for those disciples on their future role.
Anyway. When the disciples approach the blind man and tell him to come forward, the blind man throws off his cloak. The pastor noted the fact that the blind use their cloak to keep the coins that people throw to them in their begging. So---throwing the cloak is pretty remarkable. The blind man had a real focus on what was important. He already "saw" pretty clearly.
The Lord then asks the blind man: "What do you want? And the blind man says, "That I might see."
You all know the rest of the story. But.....
As I traveled about this week, I counted the number of bifocals and extra reading glasses, and the sunglasses etc that those over 40 struggle with as their eyes suffer a variety of conditions......It is pretty rampant. It is very, very common. I invite you to do a little survey. I think you will be amazed by the data.
I liked the sermon and all. From the Observer perspective, I wonder what kind of "blindness" was really being cured here? As my readers know, I have been a big fan of Pinocchio and stories etc, and never have confused the point with the facts. I know some folks think the Lord was a vision specialist and did a little early laser treatment. NO. I think not. He also was NOT an educational specialist who wrote books on braille. NO. I would propose...for friendly debate of course...that it's a different kind of blindness---the kind we all have.
Very early....we begin not seeing. The things that are inconvenient. And the hearing too begins to fade. We just do not want to hear. The lies. The pain. Well, lots of stuff.
And then the final blow. The voice fades. We lose the ability to raise our hand and speak. To ask questions. To disagree. It becomes just too uncomfortable.
What woe! To be blind. And deaf. And dumb. And the progression begins so early in life.
So. It's not too late. To stand. To see. To hear. And to speak. Let's throw off the cloak and begin. Toss the small change on the floor.
powered by Audioblog.com
"That I might see"; "That I might hear"
(Ed.note. Whenever the Observer finds an unusual sermon locally, I will try to summarize it for my faithful readers. In case some might have missed it. I have long been a reader of printed sermons, such as Jonathan Edwards, etc. In times gone by, this was an established area of literature, and rhetoric. )
Last Sunday a local pastor in Evansville gave a sermon that was pretty remarkable. It was on the blind man at the side of the road. Yes, there are several of them in the gospels, but in this one story, the blind man is told to shut up and be still. The Lord hears the commotion and says, "Bring him to me." A little teaching lesson for those disciples on their future role.
Anyway. When the disciples approach the blind man and tell him to come forward, the blind man throws off his cloak. The pastor noted the fact that the blind use their cloak to keep the coins that people throw to them in their begging. So---throwing the cloak is pretty remarkable. The blind man had a real focus on what was important. He already "saw" pretty clearly.
The Lord then asks the blind man: "What do you want? And the blind man says, "That I might see."
You all know the rest of the story. But.....
As I traveled about this week, I counted the number of bifocals and extra reading glasses, and the sunglasses etc that those over 40 struggle with as their eyes suffer a variety of conditions......It is pretty rampant. It is very, very common. I invite you to do a little survey. I think you will be amazed by the data.
I liked the sermon and all. From the Observer perspective, I wonder what kind of "blindness" was really being cured here? As my readers know, I have been a big fan of Pinocchio and stories etc, and never have confused the point with the facts. I know some folks think the Lord was a vision specialist and did a little early laser treatment. NO. I think not. He also was NOT an educational specialist who wrote books on braille. NO. I would propose...for friendly debate of course...that it's a different kind of blindness---the kind we all have.
Very early....we begin not seeing. The things that are inconvenient. And the hearing too begins to fade. We just do not want to hear. The lies. The pain. Well, lots of stuff.
And then the final blow. The voice fades. We lose the ability to raise our hand and speak. To ask questions. To disagree. It becomes just too uncomfortable.
What woe! To be blind. And deaf. And dumb. And the progression begins so early in life.
So. It's not too late. To stand. To see. To hear. And to speak. Let's throw off the cloak and begin. Toss the small change on the floor.
powered by Audioblog.com
Friday, February 24, 2006
"What Would Elvis Do?"
The other night my mother in law came to Evansville on her way down to Florida for a month stay. In the living room of The Observer, we took a short break from breaking news to offer the couple a toast: " To being 80, healthy, and driving down to Florida."
After a few sips, we happened to mention the fact that we were really enjoying our Sirius Satellite Radio. In fact, I offered that The Elvis Channel, #13, was one of my favorites. My wife then teased her mom about that famous Ed Sullivan Show appearance in the late 50's when Elvis, "the pelvis" was brought on stage and many families, including her's were banned from watching the sinful goings on.
Her mom just smiled in the memory of it. She never admitted she might have been wrong about rock n roll. We never pressed the point. We just sipped the manhattens and smiled. Knowing smiles.
It is just the same with the current blog and internet media fuss in Evansville. Oh no, hourly news and not just once a week. What a terrible thing! Oh what a threat to civilization itself!
I just have to wonder what "The King" himself might do if he were in my place. Yes, he might just be sipping a manhatten. And smiling as I told him the story. Then he might ask what song I would like to hear. That would be tough. So many to choose from.
I would probably have to go with "Poor Little Fool." But then there's "Jailhouse Rock" or "All Shook Up." It's so hard to decide.
What song would you ask him to sing? You make the call.
After a few sips, we happened to mention the fact that we were really enjoying our Sirius Satellite Radio. In fact, I offered that The Elvis Channel, #13, was one of my favorites. My wife then teased her mom about that famous Ed Sullivan Show appearance in the late 50's when Elvis, "the pelvis" was brought on stage and many families, including her's were banned from watching the sinful goings on.
Her mom just smiled in the memory of it. She never admitted she might have been wrong about rock n roll. We never pressed the point. We just sipped the manhattens and smiled. Knowing smiles.
It is just the same with the current blog and internet media fuss in Evansville. Oh no, hourly news and not just once a week. What a terrible thing! Oh what a threat to civilization itself!
I just have to wonder what "The King" himself might do if he were in my place. Yes, he might just be sipping a manhatten. And smiling as I told him the story. Then he might ask what song I would like to hear. That would be tough. So many to choose from.
I would probably have to go with "Poor Little Fool." But then there's "Jailhouse Rock" or "All Shook Up." It's so hard to decide.
What song would you ask him to sing? You make the call.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
"The Co-Presidency"; or Book Review: The Seduction of Hillary Rodham by
Yesterday, William F. Buckley, who is now 80, wrote an article on why he thought that Hillary Clinton would be the Democratic choice for President in 2008.(Click on the post and scroll down for summary) It seems that a lot of Republicans are wishing that Hillary is the candidate. Probably because they have such an extensive file on her. Hillary has a high list of negatives that have made her a polarizing figure in politics and I am sure that the Republicans would love to run against her.
So---Preparing for such a race, I have begun to review some of the books about Hillary. One of the famous ones is "The Seduction of Hillary Rodham," by David Brock. Yes that is the same David Brock who wrote "The Real Anita Hill." He also wrote the articles in "The Spectator" about the Troopergate scandal that he eventually apologized for writing later. Mr. Brock has to be understood as a very radical Republican author, but still, the reading is entertaining.
One of the things that folks remember is the famous line of Hillary "I suppose I could be home baking cookies." What they do not remember is what that was the response to.
When Bill Clinton was governor of Arkansas, Hillary was intimately involved in the affairs of state...not Bill's affairs, but the government details. She was also a source of free legal advice. Anyway, there was a huge scandal about the legal work that Hillary was doing through the Rose Law firm, and whether there was any illegality about how the work was obtained. This type of controversy is often present when one spouse of an elected official is a lawyer. The good news is that the official gets free legal advice. The bad news is that the public may pay fees another way. So...
The problem of course would be if Hillary runs for President, Bill is no longer current on his law license. I suppose that he could still give her advice. ---Anyway, if Hillary does run, it will be the Co-Presidency all over again. I just wonder whether America is ready for another two terms of a co-Presidency.
What do you think? You make the call.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 9:11 AM
So---Preparing for such a race, I have begun to review some of the books about Hillary. One of the famous ones is "The Seduction of Hillary Rodham," by David Brock. Yes that is the same David Brock who wrote "The Real Anita Hill." He also wrote the articles in "The Spectator" about the Troopergate scandal that he eventually apologized for writing later. Mr. Brock has to be understood as a very radical Republican author, but still, the reading is entertaining.
One of the things that folks remember is the famous line of Hillary "I suppose I could be home baking cookies." What they do not remember is what that was the response to.
When Bill Clinton was governor of Arkansas, Hillary was intimately involved in the affairs of state...not Bill's affairs, but the government details. She was also a source of free legal advice. Anyway, there was a huge scandal about the legal work that Hillary was doing through the Rose Law firm, and whether there was any illegality about how the work was obtained. This type of controversy is often present when one spouse of an elected official is a lawyer. The good news is that the official gets free legal advice. The bad news is that the public may pay fees another way. So...
The problem of course would be if Hillary runs for President, Bill is no longer current on his law license. I suppose that he could still give her advice. ---Anyway, if Hillary does run, it will be the Co-Presidency all over again. I just wonder whether America is ready for another two terms of a co-Presidency.
What do you think? You make the call.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 9:11 AM
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
