I thought you guys should know, you were like family to him, especially Rosie & Moe. His brother says that in lieu of cards or flowers, a memorial fund will be established to buy a new fish and/or tank for the new Art Room in Boyer Valley South. I'm really sorry that you have to hear it this way, it's so impersonal, but when I asked him months ago if he ever thought about making out a will he just flared his fins ant me like he was pissed off or something and stared at me.
Anyway, I thought you should know- Coach
Obituary
Scotty Jim Jake “Linus” Betaphish, age 2, passed away Friday, June 25, 2004, in his home in Charter Oak, IA. An apparent suicide, he was found stuck under a rock in his tank. He had been depressed since losing his favorite plant the last time his tank was cleaned. Police have not yet ruled conclusively on the suicide, the dead plant residue may have effected the pH balance of the tank, or the rock may have just wiggled enough to fall on him. Foul play has not been ruled out.
Graduated from Muskingum College in 1949. He served as a CPA with the Internal Revenue Service, in Ohio for 31 years. No, that’s not true, we just made that up.
He is survived by his brother, Alpha Betaphish, who lives in a Peace Lilly in someone’s bathroom on a farm outside of Charter Oak.
Memorial Services will be offered Wednesday June 30, 2004 at 10:30AM at St. Auquaman and all Mermaids’ Church, 9728 Palmeras Dr., Sun City, AZ.
Sunday, June 27, 2004
Advice on your 228th Birthday
by Poor Richard Saunders (A.K.A. Ben Franklin, guest of Mr. Ted Mallory)
Seeing as I am a good seventy years your elder, I’d like to pass on some advice. Not that I’m so wise, but frankly, I’ve noticed that you seem to be going through a bit of a mid-life crisis lately.
Before my 214 year-long sabbatical from writing I often advocated seven virtues:
1. An aversion to tyranny
A tyrant wields their power unjustly and arbitrarily. Tyrants seek absolute power. They assume they are above reproach and beyond scrutiny. Be vigilant against collective tyrants- for a tyrant may be a movement or a way of thinking just as easily as it may be a person.
Don’t let your leaders taste too much power for too long, lest they glut themselves upon it at the expense of your liberties. “Throw the bums out, I say. It may be perfectly responsible to vote against all incumbents on occasion, regardless of their party or what good they have done in office. In order to work right democracy needs balance. Balance is achieved by what scientists call “dynamic tension,” I call it change and struggle.
A hallmark of middle-age is becoming just like your parents. When you think you’ve lost your way, think back to how Britain treated you, and make sure you don’t behave that same way toward others.
2. A Free press
It could be your best defense against tyranny. Unfortunately reporters have become parasites. They don’t challenge politicians because they don’t want to be cut off.
Today’s media is a slave to money. In my day, journalism was a public service, today it’s big business. Rather than covering what’s important, they cover what sells.
3. A sense of humor
If you laugh about your faults before your adversaries even have a chance to point them out, you have disarmed them. When you take yourself too seriously you fall under the tyranny of your own self righteousness.
Of course, a spoonful of sugar also helps the medicine go down. People are much more likely to listen and learn, even be persuaded if they’re also given a laugh.
4. Humility
What makes you think you know everything there is to know and that you are always right about everything? “Pride goeth before the fall.” If I truly believe that “All men are created equal,” then I have no right to think that anyone is beneath me. Jesus himself chose to be the servant of all. Perhaps we’d do well to imitate him more closely.
5. A healthy balance of idealism and realism
Pray like it all depends on God, then work like it all depends on you. Practical people base their decisions on observation, evidence and what works. If you base your decisions on your passions, you’ll shipwreck your life. On the other hand, people without principles are like ships without anchors. Nature demands balance. What good is it to try to fly a kite without holding onto it by a string?
Richard Nixon was effective, but unprincipled. Jimmy Carter has noble character, but people perceive him as ineffective. Besides, one person’s ideas always seem to be at odds with someone else’s. If one believes in civil rights and social justice, another will believe in state’s rights and criminal justice. Both will accuse the other of being immoral.
As Scripture says, “be shrewd as serpents yet as innocent as doves.”
6. Compromise
People don’t remember that Thomas Jefferson wrote in the Declaration of Independence that slavery was immoral and should end. Southern Congressmen refused to pass the Declaration unless we removed that paragraph. John Adams was fit to be tied! I’d been against slavery for decades, but I had to convince Jefferson and Adams to let it go. Compromise is an ugly business and there are certainly times to stand your ground, but more good has been done by compromise than by bull-headed stubbornness.
7. Tolerance
Why has this become such a dirty word lately? There wouldn’t be a Fourth of July if we hadn’t compromised on slavery. The self-righteous New Englanders had to tolerate the self-righteous Southerners and vice versa. We all have the same Maker, alike objects of His care, equally designed for happiness, whether plantation-owning pompous-asses or Boston fish-wipes! If we are to get anywhere in this life we must agree to disagree and allow each other to peacefully coexist.
Only when you start with the assumption that everyman is your equal can you begin to talk about what ideas and policies are right and wrong, rather than which person or group is good and bad. Then maybe we’ll live up to our motto- “E Pluribus Unum,” one from many.
Let the Maker sort out the good from the bad, that’s not our place but His anyway. Trust that in due time He’ll intervene on behalf of just causes, just as He did for the cause of American Independence.
Happy Birthday, old girl!
Your friend and servant,
R Saunders
Seeing as I am a good seventy years your elder, I’d like to pass on some advice. Not that I’m so wise, but frankly, I’ve noticed that you seem to be going through a bit of a mid-life crisis lately.
Before my 214 year-long sabbatical from writing I often advocated seven virtues:
1. An aversion to tyranny
A tyrant wields their power unjustly and arbitrarily. Tyrants seek absolute power. They assume they are above reproach and beyond scrutiny. Be vigilant against collective tyrants- for a tyrant may be a movement or a way of thinking just as easily as it may be a person.
Don’t let your leaders taste too much power for too long, lest they glut themselves upon it at the expense of your liberties. “Throw the bums out, I say. It may be perfectly responsible to vote against all incumbents on occasion, regardless of their party or what good they have done in office. In order to work right democracy needs balance. Balance is achieved by what scientists call “dynamic tension,” I call it change and struggle.
A hallmark of middle-age is becoming just like your parents. When you think you’ve lost your way, think back to how Britain treated you, and make sure you don’t behave that same way toward others.
2. A Free press
It could be your best defense against tyranny. Unfortunately reporters have become parasites. They don’t challenge politicians because they don’t want to be cut off.
Today’s media is a slave to money. In my day, journalism was a public service, today it’s big business. Rather than covering what’s important, they cover what sells.
3. A sense of humor
If you laugh about your faults before your adversaries even have a chance to point them out, you have disarmed them. When you take yourself too seriously you fall under the tyranny of your own self righteousness.
Of course, a spoonful of sugar also helps the medicine go down. People are much more likely to listen and learn, even be persuaded if they’re also given a laugh.
4. Humility
What makes you think you know everything there is to know and that you are always right about everything? “Pride goeth before the fall.” If I truly believe that “All men are created equal,” then I have no right to think that anyone is beneath me. Jesus himself chose to be the servant of all. Perhaps we’d do well to imitate him more closely.
5. A healthy balance of idealism and realism
Pray like it all depends on God, then work like it all depends on you. Practical people base their decisions on observation, evidence and what works. If you base your decisions on your passions, you’ll shipwreck your life. On the other hand, people without principles are like ships without anchors. Nature demands balance. What good is it to try to fly a kite without holding onto it by a string?
Richard Nixon was effective, but unprincipled. Jimmy Carter has noble character, but people perceive him as ineffective. Besides, one person’s ideas always seem to be at odds with someone else’s. If one believes in civil rights and social justice, another will believe in state’s rights and criminal justice. Both will accuse the other of being immoral.
As Scripture says, “be shrewd as serpents yet as innocent as doves.”
6. Compromise
People don’t remember that Thomas Jefferson wrote in the Declaration of Independence that slavery was immoral and should end. Southern Congressmen refused to pass the Declaration unless we removed that paragraph. John Adams was fit to be tied! I’d been against slavery for decades, but I had to convince Jefferson and Adams to let it go. Compromise is an ugly business and there are certainly times to stand your ground, but more good has been done by compromise than by bull-headed stubbornness.
7. Tolerance
Why has this become such a dirty word lately? There wouldn’t be a Fourth of July if we hadn’t compromised on slavery. The self-righteous New Englanders had to tolerate the self-righteous Southerners and vice versa. We all have the same Maker, alike objects of His care, equally designed for happiness, whether plantation-owning pompous-asses or Boston fish-wipes! If we are to get anywhere in this life we must agree to disagree and allow each other to peacefully coexist.
Only when you start with the assumption that everyman is your equal can you begin to talk about what ideas and policies are right and wrong, rather than which person or group is good and bad. Then maybe we’ll live up to our motto- “E Pluribus Unum,” one from many.
Let the Maker sort out the good from the bad, that’s not our place but His anyway. Trust that in due time He’ll intervene on behalf of just causes, just as He did for the cause of American Independence.
Happy Birthday, old girl!
Your friend and servant,
R Saunders
Thursday, June 24, 2004
The Catsup Conspiracy
In Washington, at the September 11th Commission hearings they’re talking about establishing yet another layer of bureaucracy. They want to make sure that the various agencies with access to information about terrorism speak to each other. You’d think that the DEA, ATF, FBI and various branches of Military Intelligence would already report to the Central Intelligence Agency- thus the useful adjective “Central,” as in “it should all come through one central office.”
Post 9-11, you’d think that they’d all report to the department of Homeland Security. Really, since the National Security Council operates out of the White House basement, shouldn’t they all report there?
But no, in their infinite wisdom, Washington wonks want to set up another agency which all other agency will report to. I’m all for all of these agencies sharing what they know about terrorism with each other, but I’m beginning to lose faith in government bureaucracy.
Don’t get me wrong, in my view, we are all our government, and it is a practical tool, not some great evil to be eliminated like some way-right wingers seem to think (the militia men back in the woods of Idaho.) but just because I lean toward FDR, rather than Ronald Reagan, doesn’t mean I don’t get fed up too. Democracy is a human institution and forgive me for not being as much of a die hard optimist as Reagan was, but my Lutheran upbringing tells me that human nature is selfish and short sighted to say the least.
It is because of our sinful human nature that the cost of liberty is eternal vigilance. We must not only be vigil against terrorists, but against pork barrel special interest as well. But I’m not here to rant about Haliburton’s profiteering, or gross abuses of Pentagon contracts. You’d think as a Democrat, I’d call an end to pharmaceutical advertising on television and in magazines because that little bit of deregulation has resulted in skyrocketing health care and insurance costs. No, I’m ticked off at… well to be honest I’m not sure who to be ticked off at. It’s either the FDA or the President’s Physical Fitness Challenge people whoever they are.
Here’s why I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to diet anymore…
French fries are officially considered vegetables. Did you hear this? What’s more, FROZEN French fries are as of a week ago, officially recognized by the U.S. government as FRESH vegetables. What the heck?!
It’s amazing that such a decision was made, first of all “French” fries are unpatriotic because France opposed a pre-emptive war in Iraq. What’s more, French fries definitely off the Atkins diet. They’re practically 100% carbs.
This Atkins thing is out of control. I won’t be surprised if the FDA doesn’t change the nutrition pyramid by removing the entire breads, pastas, and cereals tier. Doctor Atkins will no doubt be awarded a medal of freedom posthumously or named honorary surgeon general.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for weight loss- God knows I’ve tried. I’m all for French fries too, maybe that’s why I’m so worked up about this- you can’t be pro-weight loss and pro-French fries, it just doesn’t work- even on Atkins, and that’s pretty much the fat, lazy, self-indulgent, man’s diet (excuse me, lifestyle change.) Believe me, I’m a fat, lazy, self-indulgent guy, this is one reason I’m not keen on Atkins, it would deny me my French fries.
I’ve thought about Slim-Fast, talk about not working with the whole self-indulgent thing. My biggest problem is that whole liquid diet scare back in the 1970’s where people died of kidney failure. Slim-fast is definitely not a BALANCED diet, nor a balanced lifestyle.
I’ve thought about pills like Metabalife or Cortislim, but there was that whole scare in the 90’s with the aphedra thing where people were dying of heart failure. If I wanted to pop pills I’d just go all the way and start taking “speed” or some other form of meth or amphedamines like Rush Limbaugh- mind you, it worked for him, he lost a ton of weight, but I’d end up dead or in jail, not back on the air and in the President and House Speaker’s offices like Rush.
I’ve tried the low fat diet, where you don’t buy anything with more than 9 grams of fat on the ingredients, but you know what, that just let me be overindulgent with the pasta. Years ago I tried a sort of precursor to Atkins called Sugar Busters- it worked great, must have lost 25 pounds or more. Basically you didn’t buy anything if sugar or high fructose corn syrup was in the first four ingredients. Of course I was exercising every day too. There was a pool at our condominium complex.
It wasn’t easy, this was before every beer maker, grocery store and fast food restaurant was bending over backwards to cater to low carb dieters. Even in Southern California it was difficult. A small chain of grease spots called “Fat Burger” had best French fries. Mmmmm. Fortunately, we lived around the corner from a health food store. I really began to enjoy tofu and salmon.
I’ve seen lots of people have phenomenal weight loss with Atkins, anywhere from 10 to 120 pounds. But lets face it, the proof of the pudding is under the crust (mmmm, pudding). My point is that it hasn’t been on the seen to see the long term effects. Can people ever gradually go from hard core carbophobics back to balance without gaining all their weight back? Will it clog up the arteries and cause heart damage and high cholesterol?
The only real way to lose weight is to eat less and to exercise more. The only way to keep the weight off is to KEEP eating less than everybody else and exercising more than you would if you didn’t deliberately discipline yourself to do so- for the rest of your life. These are all things that I hate to admit, but I have a real aversion too.
But here’s where I get both the Republicans and the Democrats mad. It’s all part of some elaborate plot for the “powers-that-be” to control the world and keep us all preoccupied with our waist lines so we won’t notice what they’re trying to do. Follow the connections…
Reagan has Catsup declared a vegetable back in the 1980’s. His successor’s son, Bush Jr. declares French fries and frozen French fries vegetables, then he’s replaced by Kerry- who was in the same fraternity at Yale with Bush Jr. Kerry’s wife, HAPPENS to be heiress to the Heintz Catsup dynasty. All just a coincidence? I don’t THINK so!!!
Post 9-11, you’d think that they’d all report to the department of Homeland Security. Really, since the National Security Council operates out of the White House basement, shouldn’t they all report there?
But no, in their infinite wisdom, Washington wonks want to set up another agency which all other agency will report to. I’m all for all of these agencies sharing what they know about terrorism with each other, but I’m beginning to lose faith in government bureaucracy.
Don’t get me wrong, in my view, we are all our government, and it is a practical tool, not some great evil to be eliminated like some way-right wingers seem to think (the militia men back in the woods of Idaho.) but just because I lean toward FDR, rather than Ronald Reagan, doesn’t mean I don’t get fed up too. Democracy is a human institution and forgive me for not being as much of a die hard optimist as Reagan was, but my Lutheran upbringing tells me that human nature is selfish and short sighted to say the least.
It is because of our sinful human nature that the cost of liberty is eternal vigilance. We must not only be vigil against terrorists, but against pork barrel special interest as well. But I’m not here to rant about Haliburton’s profiteering, or gross abuses of Pentagon contracts. You’d think as a Democrat, I’d call an end to pharmaceutical advertising on television and in magazines because that little bit of deregulation has resulted in skyrocketing health care and insurance costs. No, I’m ticked off at… well to be honest I’m not sure who to be ticked off at. It’s either the FDA or the President’s Physical Fitness Challenge people whoever they are.
Here’s why I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to diet anymore…
French fries are officially considered vegetables. Did you hear this? What’s more, FROZEN French fries are as of a week ago, officially recognized by the U.S. government as FRESH vegetables. What the heck?!
It’s amazing that such a decision was made, first of all “French” fries are unpatriotic because France opposed a pre-emptive war in Iraq. What’s more, French fries definitely off the Atkins diet. They’re practically 100% carbs.
This Atkins thing is out of control. I won’t be surprised if the FDA doesn’t change the nutrition pyramid by removing the entire breads, pastas, and cereals tier. Doctor Atkins will no doubt be awarded a medal of freedom posthumously or named honorary surgeon general.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for weight loss- God knows I’ve tried. I’m all for French fries too, maybe that’s why I’m so worked up about this- you can’t be pro-weight loss and pro-French fries, it just doesn’t work- even on Atkins, and that’s pretty much the fat, lazy, self-indulgent, man’s diet (excuse me, lifestyle change.) Believe me, I’m a fat, lazy, self-indulgent guy, this is one reason I’m not keen on Atkins, it would deny me my French fries.
I’ve thought about Slim-Fast, talk about not working with the whole self-indulgent thing. My biggest problem is that whole liquid diet scare back in the 1970’s where people died of kidney failure. Slim-fast is definitely not a BALANCED diet, nor a balanced lifestyle.
I’ve thought about pills like Metabalife or Cortislim, but there was that whole scare in the 90’s with the aphedra thing where people were dying of heart failure. If I wanted to pop pills I’d just go all the way and start taking “speed” or some other form of meth or amphedamines like Rush Limbaugh- mind you, it worked for him, he lost a ton of weight, but I’d end up dead or in jail, not back on the air and in the President and House Speaker’s offices like Rush.
I’ve tried the low fat diet, where you don’t buy anything with more than 9 grams of fat on the ingredients, but you know what, that just let me be overindulgent with the pasta. Years ago I tried a sort of precursor to Atkins called Sugar Busters- it worked great, must have lost 25 pounds or more. Basically you didn’t buy anything if sugar or high fructose corn syrup was in the first four ingredients. Of course I was exercising every day too. There was a pool at our condominium complex.
It wasn’t easy, this was before every beer maker, grocery store and fast food restaurant was bending over backwards to cater to low carb dieters. Even in Southern California it was difficult. A small chain of grease spots called “Fat Burger” had best French fries. Mmmmm. Fortunately, we lived around the corner from a health food store. I really began to enjoy tofu and salmon.
I’ve seen lots of people have phenomenal weight loss with Atkins, anywhere from 10 to 120 pounds. But lets face it, the proof of the pudding is under the crust (mmmm, pudding). My point is that it hasn’t been on the seen to see the long term effects. Can people ever gradually go from hard core carbophobics back to balance without gaining all their weight back? Will it clog up the arteries and cause heart damage and high cholesterol?
The only real way to lose weight is to eat less and to exercise more. The only way to keep the weight off is to KEEP eating less than everybody else and exercising more than you would if you didn’t deliberately discipline yourself to do so- for the rest of your life. These are all things that I hate to admit, but I have a real aversion too.
But here’s where I get both the Republicans and the Democrats mad. It’s all part of some elaborate plot for the “powers-that-be” to control the world and keep us all preoccupied with our waist lines so we won’t notice what they’re trying to do. Follow the connections…
Reagan has Catsup declared a vegetable back in the 1980’s. His successor’s son, Bush Jr. declares French fries and frozen French fries vegetables, then he’s replaced by Kerry- who was in the same fraternity at Yale with Bush Jr. Kerry’s wife, HAPPENS to be heiress to the Heintz Catsup dynasty. All just a coincidence? I don’t THINK so!!!
Thursday, June 17, 2004
Giant eyes and frozen banana elevators
“I like how you handled the thing between the girls,” Bethany commented to me about my column as we were driving home in the van last week after dropping Ellen off at her grandparent’s house to spend the night. We would have to get up before five the next morning in order to get her older sister, Grace to the hospital by six to get her tonsils and adenoids out at eight. (if you read last week’s column, you should have Déjà vu by now, don’t worry, this week’s column is actually about something, so keep reading).
This was going to be hard. It was hard because Grace had been lobbying to spend the night at their grandparents for several weeks and now Ellie actually got to do it. It was going to be hard because you aren’t supposed to eat anything the night before a surgery. The only thing harder than trying to get a five year old to eat is trying to prevent them from eating. It was going to be hard because she’d be scared to death so she wouldn’t sleep, she’d have anxious nightmares. It was going to be hard, I just knew it.
What did I know. Grace was so excited and wound up about her adventure and all the special attention she was getting, that you’d think the next day was going to be Christmas!
Her father on the other hand more than made up for her optimism with his neurotic, paranoid, parental worst-case-scenarioism. I played out in my mind what it would be like to lose her so young. As I walked her up to bed to tuck her in she climed the stairs ahead of me, backwards,
“Come on Daddy, I’m gonna beat you!” she taunted.
It was like she was on her way to Heaven. I couldn’t take it, it really got the worry juices going in my brain. Naturally I said some extra prayers that night, and solicited prayers from practically everyone in my email address book.
Getting up before five the next morning in order to get Grace to the hospital by six to get her tonsils and adenoids out at eight was hard. Really hard. I mean, come on, we’re teachers and this is summer for crying out loud. On top of that Ellen is usually our alarm clock- every morning at seven there she is by the side of the bed, patting you on the side and grinning at you sideways. Therefore, having her at her Grammy’s house meant no wake-up call.
Somehow we dragged our selves out of bed and brought the patient, (still in her pajamas) her stuffed dog, “Doc,” and her Spiderman blanket to the van for the dawn journey to the big town (Denison).
It did feel sort of like a vacation, hitting the road on a cool damp morning. The hills were typically gorgeous.
“Oh, it’s so bootifool,” sighed Grace.
She really was getting spoiled. A spacious, quiet, private room in the back of the ICU. She quickly settled in. The nurse briefed her on the remote. What a remote! Not only could she change the channel and adjust the volume on the cable TV, but she could turn the lights on and off and move the bed up and down and change it’s angles. This is WAY too much power for a five year old. Incidentally, Denison Cable has a lot more channels then Charter Oaks. Not that this mattered to Grace, she pretty well watched the same things she always watches- the Wiggles, Dora the Explorer, Spongebob.
In comes nurse after nurse and anesthesiologists to tell us what would happen, what Doctor Crabb would do, and what to expect afterwards. Two hours flew by. I mention this because when both of our girls were born, now hour ever flew by in the hospital. Hours became days and days weeks, until by the time the kid’s born, you feel like you’ve just spent half the year in the hospital. Its no wonder new parents always say “I can’t remember what life was like with out (put child’s name here).” Hospital stays for adults are so grueling that it seems like there was no life before, no reality outside of the hospital, only the Purgatory of the hospital and whatever your new glorious after life happens to be.
Then I swear that the time Bethany and I were in the waiting room was even quicker. It seemed like no sooner were we kissing her goodbye and begging God not to taker her as they wheeled her into the OR then Doctor Crabb was gabbing with us about how huger her adenoids had been and how good she was doing and “how quickly these little kids bounce back…”
Whew. Thank you Jesus.
Oh, that’s not to say that there wasn’t a Purgatory for us adults. We were dying of hunger, so while Grace was in recovery, we thought we’d visit the snack bar. Not open. “It’s run by volunteers, and sometimes they have a hard time finding volunteers,” said a person in white shoes and hospitally looking clothes.
Okay, we’ll drop down to the cafeteria. Crawford County Memorial’s one elevator has these dark brown doors, but when it opens up the interior is sort of a yellow faux finish thing. It reminded me of a chocolate covered frozen banana. This made me more hungry. I was looking forward to some soggy scrambled eggs or dietarily correct French toast with an apple sauce cup like hospitals serve.
I think that there must be a law somewhere that says that hospitals have to be easy to get lost in and that at least one floor in any hospital has to be bare and institutional and intimidating. Even warm, intimate little Crawford County Memorial has a floor like that. The basement, which of course is basically the “bowls” of the place- laundry rooms, storage, dishroom, ah, here it is, the cafeteria…which doesn’t open till noon.
So back up to Grace’s room we went. 6 AM to 6 PM is what someone told us who’d had their child’s tonsils out. Sure enough. Poor kid, she was zonked all day. Anytime a nurse came to check on her or she had a visitor so that she had to wake up, her eyes got as big as quarters as if she were a deer in the headlights. It was so impressive that it became the talk of the staff.
She slept most of the day. This of course was rather dull for we adults. It was worst for me because of my Attention Deficit Dilemma. At least Denison cable has Country Music Television (hin- hint Tip Top Communications!)
Bethany was kind to me and “gave me errands,” so I could leave and come back when the cabin fever got too much for me.
This meant that I figured out how to get around the hospital. Of course, they’re remodeling, so next time I’ll be lost again.
That chocolate banana elevator? It can hold 23 people. Unbelievable, its the size of a broom closet- can’t be more than 9X12. 3,500 pound maximum load. That means 23 people who are 152 pounds each. Gawd, I wish I was only 152 pounds, geez I must have been in seventh grade when I weighed that little. They’d have to all be that skinny to fit 23 of them in that little box!
One errand was Graces prescriptions, one was lunch, one was toys for when she woke up. This was unnecessary. As much as I loved the chance to spoil her, she got stuff from her cousins, stuff from her grandparents and stuff from the hospital- sort of a McDonald’s Happy Meal of crayons, a Cup and various sundries. None of these things meant much to her since she was sleeping or in pain and wanting to sleep all day.
The funnest thing for her was when the nurse clipped a sensor onto her finger to check her pulse and measure the hemoglobins (Oxygen levels) in her blood. Hers was at 98%, very good. Mine was 99%, amazing with all the allergies and asthma, coughing, hacking and snorting that I do. The nurse told me that if Bethany’s level was 100% I had to take her shopping in Council Bluffs. It was, I think he had the thing rigged.
Anyway Grace is doing fine. She wanted to play in the sprinkler by that Sunday and she’s loved all the snow cones and Popsicles. Thanks for your prayers and you support.
This was going to be hard. It was hard because Grace had been lobbying to spend the night at their grandparents for several weeks and now Ellie actually got to do it. It was going to be hard because you aren’t supposed to eat anything the night before a surgery. The only thing harder than trying to get a five year old to eat is trying to prevent them from eating. It was going to be hard because she’d be scared to death so she wouldn’t sleep, she’d have anxious nightmares. It was going to be hard, I just knew it.
What did I know. Grace was so excited and wound up about her adventure and all the special attention she was getting, that you’d think the next day was going to be Christmas!
Her father on the other hand more than made up for her optimism with his neurotic, paranoid, parental worst-case-scenarioism. I played out in my mind what it would be like to lose her so young. As I walked her up to bed to tuck her in she climed the stairs ahead of me, backwards,
“Come on Daddy, I’m gonna beat you!” she taunted.
It was like she was on her way to Heaven. I couldn’t take it, it really got the worry juices going in my brain. Naturally I said some extra prayers that night, and solicited prayers from practically everyone in my email address book.
Getting up before five the next morning in order to get Grace to the hospital by six to get her tonsils and adenoids out at eight was hard. Really hard. I mean, come on, we’re teachers and this is summer for crying out loud. On top of that Ellen is usually our alarm clock- every morning at seven there she is by the side of the bed, patting you on the side and grinning at you sideways. Therefore, having her at her Grammy’s house meant no wake-up call.
Somehow we dragged our selves out of bed and brought the patient, (still in her pajamas) her stuffed dog, “Doc,” and her Spiderman blanket to the van for the dawn journey to the big town (Denison).
It did feel sort of like a vacation, hitting the road on a cool damp morning. The hills were typically gorgeous.
“Oh, it’s so bootifool,” sighed Grace.
She really was getting spoiled. A spacious, quiet, private room in the back of the ICU. She quickly settled in. The nurse briefed her on the remote. What a remote! Not only could she change the channel and adjust the volume on the cable TV, but she could turn the lights on and off and move the bed up and down and change it’s angles. This is WAY too much power for a five year old. Incidentally, Denison Cable has a lot more channels then Charter Oaks. Not that this mattered to Grace, she pretty well watched the same things she always watches- the Wiggles, Dora the Explorer, Spongebob.
In comes nurse after nurse and anesthesiologists to tell us what would happen, what Doctor Crabb would do, and what to expect afterwards. Two hours flew by. I mention this because when both of our girls were born, now hour ever flew by in the hospital. Hours became days and days weeks, until by the time the kid’s born, you feel like you’ve just spent half the year in the hospital. Its no wonder new parents always say “I can’t remember what life was like with out (put child’s name here).” Hospital stays for adults are so grueling that it seems like there was no life before, no reality outside of the hospital, only the Purgatory of the hospital and whatever your new glorious after life happens to be.
Then I swear that the time Bethany and I were in the waiting room was even quicker. It seemed like no sooner were we kissing her goodbye and begging God not to taker her as they wheeled her into the OR then Doctor Crabb was gabbing with us about how huger her adenoids had been and how good she was doing and “how quickly these little kids bounce back…”
Whew. Thank you Jesus.
Oh, that’s not to say that there wasn’t a Purgatory for us adults. We were dying of hunger, so while Grace was in recovery, we thought we’d visit the snack bar. Not open. “It’s run by volunteers, and sometimes they have a hard time finding volunteers,” said a person in white shoes and hospitally looking clothes.
Okay, we’ll drop down to the cafeteria. Crawford County Memorial’s one elevator has these dark brown doors, but when it opens up the interior is sort of a yellow faux finish thing. It reminded me of a chocolate covered frozen banana. This made me more hungry. I was looking forward to some soggy scrambled eggs or dietarily correct French toast with an apple sauce cup like hospitals serve.
I think that there must be a law somewhere that says that hospitals have to be easy to get lost in and that at least one floor in any hospital has to be bare and institutional and intimidating. Even warm, intimate little Crawford County Memorial has a floor like that. The basement, which of course is basically the “bowls” of the place- laundry rooms, storage, dishroom, ah, here it is, the cafeteria…which doesn’t open till noon.
So back up to Grace’s room we went. 6 AM to 6 PM is what someone told us who’d had their child’s tonsils out. Sure enough. Poor kid, she was zonked all day. Anytime a nurse came to check on her or she had a visitor so that she had to wake up, her eyes got as big as quarters as if she were a deer in the headlights. It was so impressive that it became the talk of the staff.
She slept most of the day. This of course was rather dull for we adults. It was worst for me because of my Attention Deficit Dilemma. At least Denison cable has Country Music Television (hin- hint Tip Top Communications!)
Bethany was kind to me and “gave me errands,” so I could leave and come back when the cabin fever got too much for me.
This meant that I figured out how to get around the hospital. Of course, they’re remodeling, so next time I’ll be lost again.
That chocolate banana elevator? It can hold 23 people. Unbelievable, its the size of a broom closet- can’t be more than 9X12. 3,500 pound maximum load. That means 23 people who are 152 pounds each. Gawd, I wish I was only 152 pounds, geez I must have been in seventh grade when I weighed that little. They’d have to all be that skinny to fit 23 of them in that little box!
One errand was Graces prescriptions, one was lunch, one was toys for when she woke up. This was unnecessary. As much as I loved the chance to spoil her, she got stuff from her cousins, stuff from her grandparents and stuff from the hospital- sort of a McDonald’s Happy Meal of crayons, a Cup and various sundries. None of these things meant much to her since she was sleeping or in pain and wanting to sleep all day.
The funnest thing for her was when the nurse clipped a sensor onto her finger to check her pulse and measure the hemoglobins (Oxygen levels) in her blood. Hers was at 98%, very good. Mine was 99%, amazing with all the allergies and asthma, coughing, hacking and snorting that I do. The nurse told me that if Bethany’s level was 100% I had to take her shopping in Council Bluffs. It was, I think he had the thing rigged.
Anyway Grace is doing fine. She wanted to play in the sprinkler by that Sunday and she’s loved all the snow cones and Popsicles. Thanks for your prayers and you support.
Sunday, June 13, 2004
Pastor Gebhardt preaches
his farewell sermon this Sunday
Pastor L.C. Gebhardt is retiring after thirty –four years in the ministry and the past twenty-five years at St. John Lutheran Church in Charter Oak. Rev. Gebhardt will be giving his farewell sermon on Sunday, June 20th at 10:00 A.M.
On the following Sunday, June 27th, at 10:00 A.M. there will be a special worship service recognizing his years of service and retirement. The Preacher will be Rev. Seiveking, President of Iowa District West of the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod. The liturgist will be Rev. William Caughey. Caughey’s wife, Kris Sporeleader is a native of Charter Oak.
A farewell Dinner will follow the service and a program will begin at 1:00P.M.
Watch the NEWSpaper for more about the celebration next week.
Everyone is invited to attend both Sunday services.
his farewell sermon this Sunday
Pastor L.C. Gebhardt is retiring after thirty –four years in the ministry and the past twenty-five years at St. John Lutheran Church in Charter Oak. Rev. Gebhardt will be giving his farewell sermon on Sunday, June 20th at 10:00 A.M.
On the following Sunday, June 27th, at 10:00 A.M. there will be a special worship service recognizing his years of service and retirement. The Preacher will be Rev. Seiveking, President of Iowa District West of the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod. The liturgist will be Rev. William Caughey. Caughey’s wife, Kris Sporeleader is a native of Charter Oak.
A farewell Dinner will follow the service and a program will begin at 1:00P.M.
Watch the NEWSpaper for more about the celebration next week.
Everyone is invited to attend both Sunday services.
Thursday, June 10, 2004
Not too much to write about
“I like how you handled the thing between the girls,” Bethany commented to me about my column as we were driving home in the van last week after dropping Ellen off at her grandparent’s house to spend the night. We would have to get up before five the next morning in order to get her older sister, Grace to the hospital by six to get her tonsils and adenoids out at eight.
“Thanks,” I responded. She chuckled. Was it that cute a column or was it funny that I’d thank her for the encouragement. Or was it just funny that I tried to logic-and-reason/lecture/explain two preschoolers out of an argument caused by the older one not understanding that the younger one was just copying her every syllable?
“Heh,” she half laughed and half sighed, “It’s just that Gracie’s life is out there for the world to see, played out in the newspaper,” she contemplated. (or something to that effect, I may not be quoting her verbatim here…I suppose that’s why so many writers turn to fiction- because our memories aren’t good enough to maintain journalistic integrity so we make up what we didn’t remember accurately. That’s probably also why many humorists avoid writing about family- you know, that whole “never mix business with pleasure” thing or something like that. Who wants to offend your own family by writing about them? Am I right?).
“What ‘bout my life?” Gracie wondered as she leaned toward the front from her favorite spot in the middle of the very back seat.
“Doh,” I winced like Homer Simpson getting caught doing something dumb, “duh, well, uh…” I stammered. I figured it was safe to write about people who can’t read about themselves yet.
“Oh,” Beth jumped in to save me, “We were just talking about something you’re Daddy wrote about you and your sister in the NEWSpaper.” Okay, so she didn’t pronounce it so that ‘NEWS’ is in all capitals like it is on the nameplate- I just can’t get over typing it that way, I feel more official doing it that way.
“My sistah? In da Nooowspapah?” Grace asked.
“Yes, I just said something about how cute you were, you know, in that newspaper I write for?” I assured her. See? I CAN write the word “newspaper,” without writing “NEWS” in all caps. (Shouldn’t that be “ALL CAPS?”)
Apparently that satisfied her, that or the fact that she could see town coming into view.
“Chawter Ohwk! Our town, I seeee it, we home!” she announced.
“Great,” I thought. The gig id up. I’d better find someone else to write about from now on. Ellie had better start being a lot more funny, but what happens when she figures it out? We can’t afford to just keep having kids. It’s not like I’m Dave Barry or something, this column is just a hobby. Teachers don’t get paid enough to procreate just for the sake of writing material. Besides, thats like having kids just to harvest their organs or something, it’s sick. I’d just have to find some other muse.
Other peoples kids? Nah, nobody likes someone who makes fun of other people’s kids, that’s like being a bully or something. Bethany wouldn’t go for that Elementary Guidance Counselors hate bullies. They also hate hate, okay, they ABHOR bullies. She was an English major, maybe she’ll like a word like “abhor.” Oh great, now her approval is so important to me that I’m using really esoteric words just to impress her.
Now I’ve done it, I actually used an obscure word like “esoteric” to describe words that are too hard to understand. DOH!- who uses words like “obscure,” that’s so oblique! DOH!
Oh great, now her approval is so important to me that I’m using really fancy words just to impress her. Now I don’t explain that all three of those words basically mean that most people don’t use any of those three words, some people will be frustrated. Of course if I do explain that all three words pretty much mean the same thing, which is “hard to understand,” some people will be frustrated like I’m talking down to them, some will think I’m trying to sound smart, and some will think I ruined a punny line by analyzing it to death.
Too late. Using such arcane and cryptic language is really just a roundabout way of playing with words to take up time and space on the page. That last sentence was completely useless. When you were a kid and the teacher assigned you an essay that had to me so many words long, did you use too many redundant adverbs and adjectives to make it really, really long or very, very, super boring? I used run-on sentences. Or fragments. Drove ‘em nuts!
“Drove ‘em nuts!?” Can’t you just see a wagon full of pecans behind a tractor? Or maybe a bus load of mental patients? Ah, I crack myself up.
What were we talking about?
Oh yeah, so I don’t fell like I can write about the funny things my daughter says anymore, because basically, I’m afraid that someday I’ll embarrass her…Nah, what are the chances of THAT ever happening. ME embarrass HER? Ha!
It’s too bad too. Just before we left their house, my farmer-in-law Allan said “I suppose we’re going to read about this new adventure- getting her tonsils and adenoids out in that column of yours next week!?” (or something along those lines, I don’t write down everything everybody says to me word-for-word right when they say it. I hope he doesn’t get mad if I just misquoted him. Of course, my eighth grade English Teacher, Mr. Harman would say, “People don’t get ‘mad,’ DOGS GO ‘mad,’ PEOPLE GET angry.” Of course, he also told us that “Ain’t ain’t a word,” but by the time I got out of high school it had been added to the dictionary.)
Dang, I really haven’t written about anything this week have I?
Just then his wife stepped into the room.
“I thought you were going to bed?” she inquired incredulously, as if he were just wasting time on some frivolous hobby.
“I’m almost done,” actually I didn’t say that, I don’t exactly remember what I said.
“However long it is, cut it in half,” she advised, and left the room to go to bed.
Hmmf. I guess I’m lucky she’s not my editor.
So, the moral of the story is, never publish anything that you write about family.
Actually, tonsil and adenoid surgery isn’t all that funny anyway, especially not for the victim- eh, patient. But in case you wondered, Grace was a real trooper, but thank God for Tylenol. Maybe I’ll tell you about some of it next week. Thanks for reading.
The End. 1,132 words, not including these ones. The End, again.
If she could read this, I’m sure Grace would say, “Da-a-ad, Yoouw SILLY!” 1,152- if I counted right.
“Thanks,” I responded. She chuckled. Was it that cute a column or was it funny that I’d thank her for the encouragement. Or was it just funny that I tried to logic-and-reason/lecture/explain two preschoolers out of an argument caused by the older one not understanding that the younger one was just copying her every syllable?
“Heh,” she half laughed and half sighed, “It’s just that Gracie’s life is out there for the world to see, played out in the newspaper,” she contemplated. (or something to that effect, I may not be quoting her verbatim here…I suppose that’s why so many writers turn to fiction- because our memories aren’t good enough to maintain journalistic integrity so we make up what we didn’t remember accurately. That’s probably also why many humorists avoid writing about family- you know, that whole “never mix business with pleasure” thing or something like that. Who wants to offend your own family by writing about them? Am I right?).
“What ‘bout my life?” Gracie wondered as she leaned toward the front from her favorite spot in the middle of the very back seat.
“Doh,” I winced like Homer Simpson getting caught doing something dumb, “duh, well, uh…” I stammered. I figured it was safe to write about people who can’t read about themselves yet.
“Oh,” Beth jumped in to save me, “We were just talking about something you’re Daddy wrote about you and your sister in the NEWSpaper.” Okay, so she didn’t pronounce it so that ‘NEWS’ is in all capitals like it is on the nameplate- I just can’t get over typing it that way, I feel more official doing it that way.
“My sistah? In da Nooowspapah?” Grace asked.
“Yes, I just said something about how cute you were, you know, in that newspaper I write for?” I assured her. See? I CAN write the word “newspaper,” without writing “NEWS” in all caps. (Shouldn’t that be “ALL CAPS?”)
Apparently that satisfied her, that or the fact that she could see town coming into view.
“Chawter Ohwk! Our town, I seeee it, we home!” she announced.
“Great,” I thought. The gig id up. I’d better find someone else to write about from now on. Ellie had better start being a lot more funny, but what happens when she figures it out? We can’t afford to just keep having kids. It’s not like I’m Dave Barry or something, this column is just a hobby. Teachers don’t get paid enough to procreate just for the sake of writing material. Besides, thats like having kids just to harvest their organs or something, it’s sick. I’d just have to find some other muse.
Other peoples kids? Nah, nobody likes someone who makes fun of other people’s kids, that’s like being a bully or something. Bethany wouldn’t go for that Elementary Guidance Counselors hate bullies. They also hate hate, okay, they ABHOR bullies. She was an English major, maybe she’ll like a word like “abhor.” Oh great, now her approval is so important to me that I’m using really esoteric words just to impress her.
Now I’ve done it, I actually used an obscure word like “esoteric” to describe words that are too hard to understand. DOH!- who uses words like “obscure,” that’s so oblique! DOH!
Oh great, now her approval is so important to me that I’m using really fancy words just to impress her. Now I don’t explain that all three of those words basically mean that most people don’t use any of those three words, some people will be frustrated. Of course if I do explain that all three words pretty much mean the same thing, which is “hard to understand,” some people will be frustrated like I’m talking down to them, some will think I’m trying to sound smart, and some will think I ruined a punny line by analyzing it to death.
Too late. Using such arcane and cryptic language is really just a roundabout way of playing with words to take up time and space on the page. That last sentence was completely useless. When you were a kid and the teacher assigned you an essay that had to me so many words long, did you use too many redundant adverbs and adjectives to make it really, really long or very, very, super boring? I used run-on sentences. Or fragments. Drove ‘em nuts!
“Drove ‘em nuts!?” Can’t you just see a wagon full of pecans behind a tractor? Or maybe a bus load of mental patients? Ah, I crack myself up.
What were we talking about?
Oh yeah, so I don’t fell like I can write about the funny things my daughter says anymore, because basically, I’m afraid that someday I’ll embarrass her…Nah, what are the chances of THAT ever happening. ME embarrass HER? Ha!
It’s too bad too. Just before we left their house, my farmer-in-law Allan said “I suppose we’re going to read about this new adventure- getting her tonsils and adenoids out in that column of yours next week!?” (or something along those lines, I don’t write down everything everybody says to me word-for-word right when they say it. I hope he doesn’t get mad if I just misquoted him. Of course, my eighth grade English Teacher, Mr. Harman would say, “People don’t get ‘mad,’ DOGS GO ‘mad,’ PEOPLE GET angry.” Of course, he also told us that “Ain’t ain’t a word,” but by the time I got out of high school it had been added to the dictionary.)
Dang, I really haven’t written about anything this week have I?
Just then his wife stepped into the room.
“I thought you were going to bed?” she inquired incredulously, as if he were just wasting time on some frivolous hobby.
“I’m almost done,” actually I didn’t say that, I don’t exactly remember what I said.
“However long it is, cut it in half,” she advised, and left the room to go to bed.
Hmmf. I guess I’m lucky she’s not my editor.
So, the moral of the story is, never publish anything that you write about family.
Actually, tonsil and adenoid surgery isn’t all that funny anyway, especially not for the victim- eh, patient. But in case you wondered, Grace was a real trooper, but thank God for Tylenol. Maybe I’ll tell you about some of it next week. Thanks for reading.
The End. 1,132 words, not including these ones. The End, again.
If she could read this, I’m sure Grace would say, “Da-a-ad, Yoouw SILLY!” 1,152- if I counted right.
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