Bionic Nut

Less than a week and the pins come out!

2010-02-27T22:49:00.006-05:00

Well, the finger still looks pretty rough but the pins will come out this Wednesday and then I will start physical therapy.

At the follow-up visit two weeks ago, the Doctor said that everything looked fine. In our brief discussion I mentioned some hard skin that was starting to peel on the palm side of the middle knuckle. He mentioned that he would take it off and he proceeded to give it a good tug. It was at this point that I decided that watching was not a good idea and I very effectively shielded myself from the good Doctor's work. He then proceeded to pull a section of skin off my finger that extended from below the middle knuckle to the initial cut just below the end knuckle. It all came off in pretty much one piece with no resistance. He explained it was the callused skin being pushed off by the new skin growing underneath. I guess since the normal sloughing process was stopped by the bandage, the skin held together in one piece until it was tugged at which point it gave up the ghost and came off.

When I felt it was safe to look, I saw the old skin on the table and the shiny bright pink new skin on my finger. The new skin was very sensitive at first but has become more tolerable as the days have progressed. Cherri remarked later that she was amazed that I didn't save it to take back to work to impress the people I work with. Trust me, I thought of it but I have become less gross in my old age.

The tip of my finger has the same dead skin on it and I have been gently starting to work it loose without messing with the pins. There is still a lot of dried blood (scabs) along the -self inflicted- incision site and I suspect the Doctor will remove all of the scanky leftovers when he pulls the pins this week.

And no, I will not watch.

So all in all things are going well and I am as pleased as I can be considering the damage that I have inflicted to myself. I feel confident that the flexibility of the finger will come with time and practice. My hope is that the feeling will return to the places that are numb and that I can move past this temporary setback quickly.

Does anyone know if it hurts to have the pins pulled?

Why I should not be allowed to have power tools

2010-02-03T16:48:00.004-05:00

This is the path that the wayward bandsaw took as it cut through my Kevlar gloves.

The pins that hold the bone together are evident here. They come out in about 4 weeks.

I still think he put it back on crooked...

The underside of my finger is where the good Doctor did the hard work of putting all of the plumbing back together.

I have feeling everywhere except the area on the right side of the finger from the cut to the tip. The finger looks really bad but -and you can't really tell this from the photos- a lot of the dark skin is that way from a marker that the Doctor used prior to the surgery.

I am very happy the the finger was saved but the the same time I am saddened by the fact that I made a foolish mistake that led to an accident that resulted in trouble and work for so many people.
My thanks goes out to all of the people that helped out during and after my accident.
You are the BEST!

Two weeks after...

2010-02-02T20:30:00.002-05:00

I wrote a post a week or so back detailing the accident that nearly cost me a finger. After long reflection, I decided to not post is because it was:

too long
even after numerous revisions it didn't make sense (with or without pain medication.)

Here is the Cliff notes version:
At work, working, reacted incorrectly to a perceived danger and dropped power tool on hand, finger nearly completely severed, finger re-attached and healing nicely.

Even though the injury affected only a finger, the outpouring of sympathy & support has been tremendous. Most of my friends have reacted as I wished they would, with good natured barbs and well-aimed insults. The folks that I work with have razor sharp wits and are trained to use them well. I appreciate the names that have been foisted on me with great humor:

Rick Sawbree
Ricky Danglefinger
Ricky Bandsawhands
Stubby
Lefty
Sole survivor of the great TMMK bandsaw massacre
Ricky Stumpbree
FarFromFinger.

Folks and friends around the homestead have also been supportive in a more refined and dignified way. I can assure you that no matter the response, it is appreciated.

You folks are great and I am a better person for having known you. I only hope that I can repay a portion of your kindness.

Maybe later I will post pictures...

and then again, maybe not.

The Second Best Day of The Year

2009-12-20T19:19:00.003-05:00

I cannot begin to know why but in the past fifty years I have become a slave to the seasons. In addition to keeping up with holidays, birthdays and other important dates on the calendar I keep my eyes solidly glued to astronomical events that mark the earth's passage along its elliptical orbit about the sun.

Tomorrow at 12:47 EDT, the earth will pass through the winter solstice. For me this marks one of the best times of the year, the time when the daylight starts to get longer. There are those who might quibble about the specifics of what actually happens on that day but for me winter has ended and spring has started. True that the coldest part of the year lies ahead but for me that is but a mere inconvenience, the days are getting longer. Life is good and getting better.

About six months from now the cycle will reverse and the daylight will once again begin to wain. But at that time we will still have several months of toasty weather to give us solace. So for me most of the year is good. There is only the time just before the winter solstice when things for me are predictably dark and dismal and that time is nearly at an end.

Take heart in your Christmas celebrations each year. It is not your imagination that the days seem brighter ( albeit only slightly ) not only because of the fun and fellowship but because the sky has signaled that summer is coming!

I can't imagine it getting much better!

Still pondering...

2009-06-08T21:30:00.002-04:00

But I did add a link to my sis-in-law's blog. Great thoughts and a killer playlist (killer in a nice way...).

Think happy thoughts. Life is not nearly as complicated as we make it out to be...

pondering...

2009-06-04T20:10:00.001-04:00

A friend makes a decision.

2009-05-20T21:13:00.003-04:00

I have a friend that is on the verge of making a life-changing decision. He is 17 and seriously considering joining the military. The Marines to be more precise.
He may not realize it but he will make far more important decisions later in his life but up till now nothing compares to what lies in his immediate future. I do not envy his position but I am glad that he has become man enough to place himself at this crossroad.

I never joined the military. Not for any disdain as some of my generation held for the armed forces. No, I just was never man enough to confront the issue. Since I have become an adult I have often thought of the sacrifices that others have made to keep my family and me free. Both of my brothers were in the military. My brothers in law (all of them I think) were in the military and all are better men for having done so.

Tonight my friend is taking the tests tonight to determine his skill level and what jobs he will qualify for. I know that he is nervous because he feels that a lot is riding on the results. My friend will do fine at the tests because he is a bright young man. I feel confident that his parents and those around him are proud of him and they have good reason to be.

Regardless of the decision that he makes concerning the military, life is going to start coming at him with amazing speed. I and others will tell him steps to take and steps to miss. He will likely not listen but that is mostly OK. He is quickly becoming a man and will have to make many of his own mistakes and enjoy his own successes.

To my friend: I am proud of you for what you are considering. You are more of man than I ever was at your age as is evident in the direction that you are currently taking in your life. You have my full faith and confidence and my pledge to help you in any way I can.

The simplest and shortest ethical precept is to be served by others as little as possible, and to serve others as much as possible. — Leo Tolstoy

Mostly compliant

2009-05-17T20:32:00.002-04:00

I have two things going on right now that I am struggling with.
The first is becoming a vegetarian... again. Cherri & I were vegetarians many years ago and enjoyed it quite a bit. We fell off the wagon so to speak and lived life like normal folks pretty much since that time. Off and on for years, I have wanted to get back to eating meat-free. Eating meat-free is a lot easier these days and there are numerous meat 'replacements' on the market, most of which can be found at the local Walmart. The best are pretty good and the rest are mostly palatable but none of them can replace meat so don't get your hopes up.
If you are thinking of becoming a vegetarian, think of your reasons for eating meat-free. If you are doing it for moral reasons, you might want to skip the meat replacements altogether (at least until you get your feet wet). If you want to leave meat behind because you can't handle the moral issues involved then why be reminded each time you pick up a burger replacement? If you want to get past meat for strictly dieting reasons then the replacements are probably OK. But to remind you, the best are just good and the worst are downright nasty.
The other and totally unrelated issue is marathoning of all things.
I have taken to jogging a bit. I can go 5 miles without too much of a struggle but that is about it. In an effort to shake things up, I started to run and walk instead of trying to run the whole distance. Alternating has allowed me to go greater distances and not suffer too much afterward.
The alternating causes a conundrum to exist in my head.
I see running a marathon as just that, run the whole thing or stay home. I think that is why they call it running a marathon and not participating in a marathon. But I realize that there are probably very few folks that could actually run - or jog - the whole thing. I guess that is why there is a veritable cottage industry that has grown up around walking marathons.
I suppose that you have to do whatever you can to get through the whole thing without losing your veggie burger but I struggle with the terms. Run a marathon or walk a marathon.
I guess it is like a getting a degree in college. No one actually asks you if it took you four years or ten years. They just see the degree and know that you made it through. Maybe it is the same way with marathon medals.
I don't know, I just don't know...

Just random thoughts...

2009-03-07T21:50:00.003-05:00

Not much is going on today. Cherri just finished our taxes... we got a refund! Life is good. What with no overtime and no bonuses, every little bit helps. We also worked around the yard and I repaired a downspout that was an unwitting victim of a recent storm.
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Went and saw Watchmen last night. -thanks to alphageek for footing the bill- The first one third was not the greatest (I never read the book-which would have helped) but after all of the back story was put into place then things really started to rock. Before you knew it there was all kinds of killing and maiming and wanton destruction. I do believe that the Rorschach character was my favorite.
The movie warrants a second viewing just to fill in all of the cracks. It is not one for the kiddies and the women-folk might to not go even if their men-folk ask them too. That is unless they like general madness and mayhem on the big screen. You got to love a good woman that likes some rip-roaring fun at the theater.
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On another subject, I have a hammered dulcimer sitting near me that I have been giving a half-hearted attempt at trying to tune.
I have wanted try to learn how to play one for a very long time ( I am a fan of instruments that sound good, that you don't have to fret and you can beat with a couple of sticks. ) But after I borrowed this HD, I had to repair it ( built and installed 27 bridges ), then I had to try to tune it.
The tuning part is kicking my buttocks ( both of them in unison ). It is a 14/13 meaning it has 13 notes on the bass scale and 14 notes on both sides of the treble bridge. and each note has two strings that, for some odd reason, have to be tuned the same for the note to sound pleasant. That would be 54 strings tuned to the correct pitch and I am not sure that I have the note layout correct. I think that I will send the HD back to its owner with my thanks ( and 27 new bridges ). I have been listening to the mountain dulcimer and I may try that instrument instead. If you be all hopped up on moonshine and still pluck out a respectable tune then it can't be that hard to play.
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I am SO glad that we had a nice warm day today. Spring is nearing and the vernal equinox is not far away. The time changes tonight which will help the psyche somewhat.
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Rorschach: You people don't understand. I'm not locked in here with you, you're locked in here with me!
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Well there you have it, an updated blog entry that is about as random as they come.

Voices in my head...

2009-01-04T21:57:00.003-05:00

I once heard ( I think...) "The poet gives voice to the tribe". When I heard that phrase, it stirred the pot in my head and got me to thinking... again.

I find it curious that even in my ever advancing age I still have probably more than my share of epiphanies. Although most are minor in scale, they still make me think that there is still hope for the ever-aging puddle of grey mush in my head. I take these minor enlightenments with great joy even though I don't share most, if any, of them in the fear that those around would question the mental faculties of someone that was just a bit too happy too have just figured out how to tally bowling scores. Anyway, when I heard the poet phrase, I began to think of my own ability to make cogent arguments for what I think to be true or false.

We all have favorite speakers, authors, magazines and songs. Did you ever wonder why? I have my favorites and I may have a bit of an enlightenment into the reasons why. At least for me. It may be because - in part- that these mediums of information or entertainment lend their words to thoughts that we have in our own heads but for whatever reason, cannot place into words that make sense to us as individuals. Yes, it is also because the words we read and hear and dance to agree with our self defined worlds but I think it is more important to know that someone is able to put into the spoken words what we are striving to say but cannot.

Now don't freak out on me here. I am not talking about having brain problems here. Just talking about some thoughts that we have lived with forever but have not quite given complete form to. Like not quite figuring out why we never quite liked Aunt Tillie's fruit cake. We thought we didn't like it because of the taste but it may be because deep in our past we learned that we didn't like it without even tasting it. (Probably from Uncle Rufus who new that it was soaked in rum and he wanted it all for himself. That Uncle Rufus was a lush and we all knew it.)

We all have tons of incomplete thoughts and incomplete beliefs in our heads. I have a friend I will call Bud (because that is his name ). Late in his life Bud began to question why he had the thoughts and beliefs after he was 'confronted' during a debate that an argument that he was making had no basis in reality. It shook him a bit because he had rooted much of the course of his adult life on the basis of a belief that had now been exposed as being baseless. It set him back on his heels for a bit and made him take an honest long look at what he believed and why.

Now Bud didn't have to go to a mountain in Tibet to get the answers. He just had to sift back through his mental filing cabinets to find where the roots of the belief came from and when he could not find the root of the belief, he forced himself to re-examine some of his current thought processes. Bud still believes what he believed before but now he knows why and has a firm footing that he can explain to others.

I probably have more than my share of incomplete thoughts in my head but as time goes along input from others helps to fill in the gaps. Listening to others' thoughts and reading blogs is a great help. Listening to Cyndi Lauper and Jethro Tull songs doesn't hurt a bit either.

Confessions of a recovering tree-hugging dirt-worshipper

2008-09-13T22:04:00.002-04:00

Part one...

The major party political conventions are behind us and we are now in political high season. We are now being exposed to the opinions of multitudes of people that are trying to convince us to vote for their candidate or not vote for the other candidate. How does that fit into the subject of this rant? Well, there are loonies on both sides of the political fence and I am going to give you an insight into how a particularly scary one, um, group thinks.

The tree-hugging dirt-worshippers (THDW) are a group of complex thinkers. By in large, they may appear to be rational but I think that would be better to consider them to be logical. That may not appear, at first, to make sense but hear me out. A rational person is agreeable to reason but the THDW are more prone to be logical. Let me flesh that out by using an analogy.

It is rational to think that the tree I am cutting down may fall on me if I do not take precautions against cutting it the wrong way. If you think about it logically, the depth of consideration can - and in the THDW's mind, does - become overbearing with possibilities. If I think logically about cutting the tree, I may start thinking about all of the possible permutations of my actions. Instead of simply thinking about how I am going to cut the tree in such a manner so as to miss me and the neighbors, I will begin thinking about all of the actions that I am taking and the external forces acting on the tree both seen and unseen. The vast majority of folks that would try to think out all of the possibilities and how to react to them would probably just forget about cutting the tree and go watch the Cats play.

The THDW throw their hands up but in an entirely different manner.

Instead of thinking out all of the seemingly infinite possibilities, they will find some possibilities that they can make sense of and ignore the rest or -and this is part of where they start to move down the slippery slope- they begin to rely on like-minded folks to share the heavy mental lifting. As some who are adept in debating will tell you ( and I am NOT one ) when you destroy some one's argument they will often become emotional or angry. The THDW are no different except that their emotion are magnified... greatly. For me this is where it gets scary -because I know how they are-.

I read in a Scientific American Mind magazine where teenagers are logical often to their own detriment. I know that this sounds crazy considering their actions but I think it sheds light on my THDW argument. It seems that kids are taught, and correctly so, that there is right or wrong, left or right, up or down, light or dark and so on. This forms the basis for deductive reasoning. What the teens miss is the experiential portion of life to 'temper' their thinking into a form of logic called inductive reasoning. Most adults will tell you that there is right and wrong but there are also infinitely varying degrees of right and wrong. There is left and right but there are also infinitely varying degrees of left and right. That is one of the reasons that kids
will experiment with drugs or sex or who knows what. They know what feels good and they have been told what feels better, they have also been told the repercussions of their actions but they lack the experience to make a valid connection to the detrimental side of their actions. They know that they should not do something because they have been told that they may experience a downside but they have not experienced that yet but they do know -if only in part- the good side. As a teenager, I know the good and I have been told -but have not seen- the bad side, thus the decision is a no-brainer.

Make sense? OK, the THDW are similar to teenagers in that see the good or bad but they do not see the infinite degrees of good and bad. They have not had the correct experiences to allow them to form decisions by using inductive reasoning or they have chosen to ignore them.
In the mind of a THDW, the [INSERT ONE OR MORE HERE] - capitalist - military-industrial complex - republican - are out to get them or destroy the planet. They see this because they see the effects of the likes of Three Mile Island on the environment and they do not see or do not want to see the numerous variables that went into making the decisions that led to this calamity. Let us look at Three Mile Island, the THDW say that we should not have atomic energy
because of the possibility of accidents like the kind that happened here. What they REALLY want to say is that they don't want to have atomic energy because

A) some evil capitalist will make money from it ( and the THDW won't ) or
B) the use of atomic energy will harm the earth.

They will imply that the 'evil capitalist' has made his money by raping and pillaging mother earth and that untold numbers of animals died in the process (they may mention that people died in the process but but they don't care about people, more on that in Part deaux.) They will use their deductive reasoning to make this argument and their argument will have gaping holes in evidence, but even though the gaping holes in evidence may make their argument void, they will argue and scream at the top of their lungs that so long as the evidence that they have can be used for the argument, they will not allow that the missing evidence can be used to counter
the argument.

It is frustrating for a sane person to watch them much less try to comprehend what is going on in their pointy little heads.

I will post more very soon. I want to get into the head of a really scary type of tree-hugging dirt-worshipper that holds little value for ( your ) human life.

My poor truck...

2008-05-18T12:29:00.003-04:00

My truck is a good truck.
My truck never complained much and always took whatever kind of gas I happened across.
My truck only had minor aches and pains and always started when asked.
My truck is a good truck.

My truck is going to the scrap heap.

It appears that a defect that may affect over 800,000 Tacomas was built into the truck that sits in my driveway. The defect is incorrect rustrpoofing of the frame and you either have the defect or you don't, there is no in-between.

One of the men that I work with mentioned the problem to me. I decided that I would crawl under my truck to check out. I reached under and grabbed the frame to pull myself under and both my hands went through... not good. I took a good look and found that the frame is rsuted completely through on both the driver and passenger side.

Due to the difficulties and cost in replacing or repairing the frame Toyota has elected to purchase the trucks back for 1.5 times Kelly Blue Book ( high value ) almost regardless of the condition of the vehicle. My truck high books for $8200 so I should get close to $12,300 ( the details aren't worked out just yet. ) That is a good deal but I likes my truck. I likes it a lot. But I guess I will get over it.

So, if you have or know someone that owns a 1995-2000 Toyota Tacoma pickup, I would encourage you to tell them about the program ( it isn't a recall - exactly. It is a 'warranty extension' ). Have them do some research before going to the dealer so they will not be surprised at their options and what will be expected from them.

My poor truck.

Tag, I'm it...

2008-02-15T09:36:00.004-05:00

Jennifer tagged me, and others, to 'splain seven things about me that few people know about me. Like her, I could likely go on at least forever if not longer with arcane and creepy things about me that you don't know.
Maybe you might find something in common with me ( poor you ) and you won't be so lonely in life knowing that there is another nut job out there that may be something like you.

1) I am a former tree-hugging dirt-worshipper. Also known as - not to offend anyone here but it has to be said - Democrat; Liberal; Big-Goverment Lover or It-Takes-A-Village Type.
No kidding! Having been raised on the government dole and until I discovered a little thing called personal responsibility, I lived to wait for the guv'ment check to arrive. I remember the monthly trips with my brother and Dad to the local jail to pick up the pile of commodities ( 'real' food that was the precursor to food stamps ). We would then feast on canned pork, dried eggs, dried milk and enough corn meal to make a nearly infinite number of cornbread pones until the last week in the month when things would thin a bit unless there was enough money left from the check to buy some Uncle Charlies cubed beef that Mom would bread up using the commodity flour and fried in commodity lard and serve with commodity dehydrated potatoes.
Please realize that my memory of this is some forty years old ( making me about eight at the time ) and I actually remember this with great fondness but that doesn't make it right.
I grew into a young man thinking that the government was the giver of all things fair and wonderful. Until I was about thirteen, I helped my Mom spend the checks on things that we didn't need ( she was frugal and new the value of a dollar, me on the other hand... )
Then...

2) I am staunch Republican ( Reagonomics; Supply-Sider; Personal Responsibility and all of the things and more that Liberals hate. ) Since the time that my Mom said that we didn't have enough money to buy the crap that I thought that I deserved and her suggestion that I actually get a job to make my own money. So off I went up the hill to do odd jobs for Mrs. Moss at her store up the street. After I got a small taste of the real money that could be made by actually earning it, I took to working at the Rockhouse after school and I haven't looked back.

3) I used to weigh three hundred ten pounds. Sixteen years old, six foot two and size forty eight pants and dateless will make you do desperate things so I took to losing weight. Fifteen or so years later I was at my lowest of one hundred sixty two pounds in size thirty three pants. I must say that I was diggin' life. I appeared gaunt ( the bad kind ) but I felt great! I may have felt great but those around me constantly bombarded me with questions about whether I had cancer and other life-threatening maladies. I started to gain weight and I have leveled out at -about- two hundred pounds which I am mostly happy.

4) I know twenty seven different computer languages. And they are none of which you have ever heard of or would recognize if I told you what they were. They are all specialized languages used in industrial computers or robots. I may not be able to format a letter in Microsoft Word but I can make a four thousand ton injection molding machine purr like a kitten, albeit a VERY LARGE kitten.

5) I am a stroke survivor. Late 1993 ( or was it '94 ) an aneurism burst deep in the left parietal lobe of my brain. It took my ability to speak clearly for a good while but I am pretty much back to 100%. Thanks to all for the prayers and good wishes because they pulled me through.

6) I have a great memory! No really! A really great memory... for numbers. I can remember phone numbers for people long dead and even the odd address.

7) I have a terrible memory! No, really! I have a really bad memory... for names. There are people that I have worked with for eighteen years that I could not tell you their name if my life depended on it. I have forgotten my own name but it usually comes back to me before I need to go fetching my driver's license. I feel sorry for KiKi and RoRo when I am around them because I am constantly calling them by the other's name. It can be embarrassing unless you can make a game out of it.

There you have it. Seven worthless facts about me. Please don't think less of me because they aren't too exciting. I never promised that they would be worth reading.

I am so ashamed...

2008-01-28T09:14:00.000-05:00

Last weekend, Adam & I went to see Cloverfield ( the movie ). I was looking forward to seeing it because I like movies with plenty of wanton destruction , mayhem and generalized badness. Throw in a monster that whups the fire out of a major city, has copious minions that are all about attacking and terrorizing the locals that weren't smart enough to get out of town, large military operations with big explosions and scads of people in sheer panic and I am all about it. Next thing you know, I am plopping down 5 bucks ( matinee ), getting a bucket full of popcorn along with a 44 ounce bladder-buster full of my favorite fizzy-pop and rooting on the bad guys or the bad things in this case.

Then I did it. I actually did it and I almost ashamed to say it. I got sick while watching the movie. Not like throw up sick but that's probably because I kept my eyes closed during the last two-thirds of the movie. To beat it all, I don't get motion sick except for the time that I rode on Delirium at Kings Island. And even then I didn't get sick, just kind of woozy in a grown man sort of way.

The entire movie is filmed from the standpoint of a guy that is using a camcorder to record the day's events so it is jittery, spends about 25% of the time about 10 degrees off of plumb.

That being said... THIS MOVIE ROCKS! I can hardly wait to go see it again! Especially since I missed the crucial last scene in the movie because I was whimpering in my seat trying to figure out how to not look or appear sick as I was stumbling out of the theater.

Now I may have to get all doped up on Bonine, put on my Sea Bands, maybe put a clothespin on each ear but, cover me boys, I am going back in.

Just for fun...

2007-11-14T09:08:00.000-05:00

moar funny pictures

moar funny pictures

moar funny pictures

moar funny pictures

Epiphanies...

2007-11-08T20:53:00.000-05:00

Have you ever had an epiphany?
There are enlightenments in life and they are a good thing to be welcomed but epiphanies are unique.
Life is full of enlightenments. Like when you figure out that Cheez-Whiz is pretty much Velveeta in a handy, microwavable container. Or if you buy the 1/2 liter Mountain Dew it actually has 16.9 ounces which is just a fuzz more than you get in the regular 16 ounce bottle but for the same price. Those are enlightenments. They are good.
Epiphanies are something better, something more... Sometimes much, much more.
An epiphany can be likened to that time you found out that the one that you love is the one that you want to spend the rest of your life with. That is a good example.
My guess is that there could be bad epiphanies but I cannot think of an example of one. Let me know if you have had one that falls into the bad category. I would be interested in hearing about it.
Recently, while at work, I had an epiphany.
I remember the feeling clearly. I had been thinking about a problem that had plagued me for some time when I suddenly had the answer. No, not the answer to the problem that had been plaguing me but to a much deeper and much more long term issue.
The answer came simply and quietly. No bells. No whistles. It was as clear and as sensible as it could be.
This one issue was now resolved and would never bother me again. Life was good and was getting better.
It was an honest-to-goodness, Grade A, true blue epiphany.
And I cannot for the life of me remember what it was.
As I said, I can remember when it came to me. Even now I can conjure the same feeling as when it came to me but the substance is lost. I am not particularly troubled by this turn of events. This has happened before and expect that it will happen again unless I suddenly take the celestial dirt nap.
Trying to go the place that I was when it came to me doesn't help. Trying to remember what I was thinking doesn't help. Doing the hokey-pokey and shaking all about doesn't help. It has left me and I cannot fret about it.
These things happen and perhaps they happen for a reason. I cannot say one way or the other but happen they do and I can only hope that this one will happen again.
Because the next time I WILL write it down!

The life of the undead...

2007-09-05T08:56:00.000-04:00

Most folks know that I work third shift. I have worked third shift for most of seventeen years straight. You would think that I would be getting used to it by now but the truth is that you never get used to it. What most folks don't know is what working third shift is like.

Stand by for a peek into the life of the undead.

Many of the folks that I have worked with over the years have moved on to a more normal existence of a day shift job or at least a job that allows you to sleep at night. I could probably move on myself but working in the graveyard allows me to - mostly - fly under the radar at work and at home it allows me to do things during the day and get a few hours of sleep before heading off.

The typical day is as follows ( we will start when I wake ):

It is somewhere between 4 and 6 PM as I get out of bed. I usually don't get up to an alarm clock because there is usually no need to.

After the obligatory butt scratching and trip to the potty room, I head downstairs to check on my beautiful wife ( she should be home by now ). After checking in with her, it is time to figure out whether to eat breakfast, dinner or something else.
We shall say that breakfast at home is the chosen option. I dig out the mini wheats, Splenda and the organic 1 % milk. Thirty seconds of heating my cereal in the microwave and then I eat my breakfast as I catch the evening news.
There are many times when breakfast will not be the first meal. If we head off to someone else's house then I will be having dinner for breakfast. Kind of strange but you get used to it... mostly.

An aside here about meals. Most folks on third eat on a schedule. You have breakfast at about a certain time, lunch ate a certain time and so on. Schedule is important because on third your circadian rythms are so far afield from what is normal your poor body has no clue when to eat, sleep or whatever. So you eat on a schedule regardless of whether you are hungry. Even after this long I don't know what to eat and when.

With breakfast under the belt, it is time to make myself somewhat presentable. Enough about that.

Whatever happens in the evening ( my morning ) is whatever needs to happen. Sometimes home stuff, sometimes out & about, just whatever.

It is time to get ready for work. I get dressed and head out. After arriving at work at about 9:40 PM, I stop on at the cafeteria and get a jug-o-mountain dew. That will help me stay awake and hold me over for a few hours until 12:30 AM which will be time for lunch. Because the cafeteria won't be open until 2:30AM I settle in for a frozen meal and maybe a chicken finger if Charles happens to bring in a box of leftovers from his store.
Eating at 12:30, which is a fifteen minute break, allows me to nap at my 45 minute lunch if I need to. I usually don't nap, I am usually too busy.

At about 5:30 AM the end is in sight and I head off to the cafe once again. I will have a cup of tea and maybe a biscuit. No real reason to eat as I am not really hungry but hey, eating at 5:30 is the norm and why stop now. The folks that sleep at night are making there way in and it provides a relaxing time to socialize. They tell us anything happened in the real world overnight and we clue them in on work happenings and what flavor of hornet's nest that they are walking in to.

You are probably getting up and I am now heading to the house where I will perform my morning chores. Monkey around on the computer for a bit as I listen to talk radio. Then about 9 AM I will head off to bed. I curl up with ear plugs and my Tempurpedic sleep mask which, but the way, is one of the greatest gifts that I ever received. Thanks Nanny Lou! With the sound and light blocked out I will be down for another 7 to 8 hours.

Then it starts all over again.

The weekends present difficulties as well. If it is necessary to work one day on the weekend I generally go ahead and work the other day as well because it is just too hard to switch back to 'day shift' for just one day.
I know that it is hard on the family but that is the way it is. Life is hard sometimes, you just deal with it.

I don't want to make it sound that I have the sword of Damocles hovering above my head at all times. That is not the case at all. Life is good. Life is always good... it is just a bit fuzzy at times.
It could best be summed up by this picture...

I hasn't forgot to be posting...

2007-08-31T10:55:00.000-04:00

Just a quick note to let you know that I will be posting soon.

In the time between now and then, head off to ICANHASCHEEZBURGER for some
fun cat pix. You gotta love them fur babies!

Have a great weekend!

A cool flyover...

2007-08-04T18:47:00.000-04:00

Living near the airport can have it's perks and seeing vintage planes flying over is one of them. This weekend the Liberty Belle, a B-17 Flying Fortress from WWII, was in town and the owners were allowing folks to reserve half hour flights.

As it happened today, planes landing on runway 22 fly over or east of our subdivision. When planes fly in they don't generally make much noise so when there is an odd sounding engine I try to run out to see what it might be. I have seen a few cool planes fly over but today I was in for a special treat when I heard large sounding radial engines. I ran out back to see a large-winged aircraft lumbering toward the airport. Then I proceeded to scare Cherri and all of the cats half to death as I yelled for her to come and see the plane.

We stood there in awe as the plane seemed to just hang in the air as it headed into Bluegrass Field. By the time we spotted it was too late to alert the evil neighbors to the east but I remembered that they were making multiple flights today and that we might get another chance.

An hour or so later I heard the same engines again so I jumped up, grabbed the phone and the camera, called Adam (evil neighbors to the east) and ran out the door just in time to catch this picture...

We don't have one of the whiz-bang cameras but it did pretty good. You can see the tail colors and the machine gun turret in the front. You can catch an article in the August 3, 2007 Lexington Herald Leader or click here.

Why only 1.6?

2007-08-03T08:23:00.000-04:00

This is a rant. Pure and simple. My morning was interrupted and I am going to vent.

Today is the start of a three day weekend for me. Nothing special planned, just going to do some odds-n-ends. Maybe catch a movie or if I could get one or both of my brothers to call me, I might head up and visit them.

I get home, do my morning chores rest a bit and head off for a few hours of sleep before getting up to meet Cherri at the audiologist at 2:00.

I didn't plan on turning on the computer. I was going to catch up on some of the tv shows that I have recorded - the really boring stuff that I won't watch when Cherri is around. Then it happened... the intestinal pain. You know what I mean and don't act like you don't. I head up the stairs, stop by and snatch up my book of easy sudoku and head off to the little room next to the shower...

A bit of backgound here... For those who knew me before Cherri know that I grew up with outdoor plumbing. To me, a good flush was a scoop of lime that you threw down the hole when you got done. It was cold in the winter, hot in the summer and you always had to be mindful of spiders, wasps and the occasional snake. I didn't mind them too much as long as that tossed the requisite amount of lime when they got done. Live and let live and all of that rot. When I got married, I moved on up to the flush toilet like civilized folks. Ain't I somethin'!

The water flush jobs weren't too bad. It was a step up and you didn't have to worry about appendages being stung or bitten and a snake would only cause you to run screaming into the living room instead of the back yard. The backyard dash was always embarrassing because, well just because. Flushing was easy to get used to and it wasn't long before I wasn't reaching for the scoop of lime instead of flushing. Old habits die hard.

We all have some troubles with flushing at least occasionally or else there would be no plunger market. At least until a couple of years ago if you plugged up the toilet you had reason to be proud - a guy thing - and you made no quiet matter of getting out the plunger and getting after it. (And you know what IT is and don't pretend that you don't.)

Not anymore.

In 1995 there was a change in legislation that would eventually bring about the frustration and angst of this post. The bill H.R. 776 (National Energy Policy Act) was passed and part of it's mandate was the 1.6 gallon per flush toilet.
Designed to save water (the 'old' units were a blissful 3 gpf) the 1.6 gpf units were to be a panacea for environmentalist and tree-huggers nationwide.

And here we are. Or rather here I am. With my book of sudoku. With a happy feeling knowing that in just a few minutes I will be watching a really cool show about how the Great Lakes formed that will fill my head with all kinds of geeky stuff that doesn't mean diddly but that is fun to recite on cue. The Science Channel - you have got to love it, it's in the rules. Realizing that because of some communist-pinko-tree hugger that hates my SUV I am going to have to be mindful of my bodily actions and the response time of my 1.6 gallon sippy cup and therefore I wait. I wait for just the right time. Not too early... If I flush too early I am guaranteed a trip for the plunger.

Wait... wait for it... THERE! The timing is immaculate and there are no problems. Or are there?
No familiar glug glug glug. Nothing. I don't even have to look as I head off to the repository of the blessed plunger. Then I have to turn and look. I am a maintenance man and I have to know which tool I need. Can I get by with the sink plunger (light duty) or will I have to get the big, black toilet plunger (medium to heavy duty)? Turning back I am disheartened to know that the toilet plunger is going to have a rough go of it. No more details will be forthcoming about the event other than to say that the 1.6 gpf just cost me at least a half dozen flushes when one good 3 gallon flush would have done the trick.

10 gallons versus 3 gallons. I am not a rocket scientist but I can see that the new legislation is not saving me money, time or water. The tree-hugging moonbat liberals will look at this and see that I (and others like me) am abusing the right that they gave me to use only 1.6 gallon per flush and they will take that away from me.

We will move to government mandated outhouses before you know it.

Jackin' in...

2007-07-16T21:00:00.000-04:00

Cherri and I were standing outside a few evenings ago when she asked me, What's that sound? She doesn't ask that very often and I always get a kick out of it when she does.

I had to ask her to describe what she is hearing - dumb question, I know - but I am hearing so much that I have to help her weed out the extraneous stuff. After a few tries she described it as an intermittent/rhythmic sound. I told her to nod her head as she heard it. Nod nod nod... nod nod... nothing ... nod nod nod... nod nod... nothing. I pointed to the rooftop of the house diagonally across the street from us at a small bird that was calling out for only my punkin' to hear!

Not only was Cherri hearing a bird, she was hearing one that was some distance away and she did it with remarkable clarity! That's my punkin'!

More new stuff...

We finally got around to pulling out the gear so Cherri could 'jack in' with her iPod. With her implant comes the necessary gadgetry to allow her to plug her iPod directly into her brain! Well not exactly, but it sounds cool anyway.

With the external unit is an clip on earpiece that has a very tiny jack that, with the appropriate cabling, any device that has line out capabilities to be plugged right into her implant allowing her to hear recorded music, voices, etc..

Here she is enjoying her Huey Lewis and The News!

Cherri isn't bashful about saying that the music, like everything else, isn't quite there just yet. She can't make it all out and it has no depth. But her brain will continue to re-learn all the groovy stuff that she has been missing.

Patience is the watchword and time and practice will make things better. Cherri is doing a great job and her hearing tests indicate that things are progressing at a good pace. Keep her in your prayers as she needs all the help and patience that she can get.

Are you sure it wasn't a LEMUR?

2007-06-20T08:55:00.000-04:00

This last weekend we went up to the Cincinnati Zoo to celebrate Father's Day with the Farleys. We had a grand time wandering about showing our resident turd-muffins all of the cool animals that they had only seen on television and in books before now. They were at least amused ( the kids ) and were not the least bit cranky. Keegan got to see her favorite, the crocodile, which we found quite by accident in the Manatee exhibit. Funny thing is that there were no sea cows in the exhibit - go figure.

Cherri and Cynthia did see a flock ( gaggle - peck - cluster? ) of lemurs. Now lemurs, generally speaking, don't really pop up on anyone's zoo radar but they certainly made these two folks' day. You see, there is a long running tale from an unnamed niece -TRACY- who lives in Florida and who is known to relay a funny story, the punch line of which is: Are you sure it wasn't a LEMUR?

In her honor I will post this rather poor picture of a LEMUR!

And yes we are sure that the sign said that they were lemurs.

Cute booger isn't it!

On the trip home I was dialing around the AM radio to find the news at the top of the hour when Cherri started repeating some of what was being said! She wasn't able to catch enough to make sense of what was being said but she caught lots of snippets!

She got pretty good at phone numbers and bits of the conversation. The cool thing was that, because of the type of show that we were listening to, she could not just 'figure out' what was being said. She had to take each word as an individual item which means SHE ACTUALLY HEARD !!! Love my baby, I am so proud of her!

Hear on girl!

Behold, the power of CHEESE!

2007-06-13T09:13:00.000-04:00

Occasionally I get migraines. I can't help it because it is just the way I am wired ( or mis-wired ). Last night while at work I had one. It is usually no problem because I keep my Excedrin Migraine tablets in my lunch box.

If it is always good to be prepared then last night was not good.

While in the throes of the migraine onset, I head to my trusty pill box only to find that I precisely one half the dosage required to re-attach my head. Not good. Not good at all. The night just got much, much longer.

I take my one half dosage in the hopes that I can survive the rest of the shift.

I have long since learned what to shy away from and what to get next to while having a migraine. Unfortunately, where I am and what my needs are one hundred and eighty degrees out of phase. Life is starting to suck and suck big.

Unlike most folks that experience migraines, I crave sound to help alleviate the pain. I guess it occupies my throbbing head. The kind of music that I really, really need is not here at work. In fact at this time of night ( deep into third shift ) there is no music on the plant wide system and my contraband FM radio picks up only country and top 40 and neither of them very well.

No music means no respite from the pain until the medicine kicks in. So I decide I must walk and walk I do.

For those who do not know, I work in that little car plant on the north side of Georgetown. The biggest part of the plant is one hundred forty four acres under the one roof that covers my aching head. That is one roof and there are several roofs from which to pick. That means lots of room to walk. Walking passes the time as my head tries to decide to completely detach or just plain explode. Luckily it does neither and after a while I feel the caffeine hitting my system which means that the pain should start to subside soon.

As I walk along the pain begins to subside. Then the cravings kick in. Did I happen to mention that I also get strange food cravings when I have a migraine? They usually hit as the pain begins to pass just as they did tonight.

I finally make it to the end of the shift. I have some running to do on the way home so with my intense cravings I must exercise some restraint while walking the expansive aisles of the local Walmart. No need to buy five pounds of beef jerky and a gallon of chocolate milk if I don't really need it. I get most of the stuff on the list and head home.

One of the first things that I do when I get home is to give Joe-Dog his morning pill that I wrap in a half of a slice of American cheese. The other half comprises part of, what for me is, a midnight snack.

After giving Joey his little daily helper pill I begin to put away the fridge stuff and I spy a small portion of Monterey Jack cheese. I decide that would be a nice thing to nibble on until I stumble on something better.

In short order the groceries have been put away and my head is feeling much better but now I need something crunchy from the snack department.

Snack crackers would hit the spot and I just happen to have three boxes to choose from. The one I choose is the closest to me. I have chosen it because... well, it is the one closest to me and my body is deficient in crunch foods. As I happily munch away I happen to notice that the crackers are Mozzarella and Sun-Dried Tomato flavor. Good! I will have more cheese but with a vegetable flavor on a cracker.

In the unlikely case that you have not been keeping count, I have had three different types of cheeses within the half hour that I arrived home. Life is good. I just hope that I have some fiber pills to take before I head off to bed. Cracklin' Oat Bran cereal would be better 'cause it tastes good while keeping me regular.

I have now been sitting here at the computer for an hour updating the blog while my head gets back to mostly OK but while I also try to burn off a substantial caffeine buzz. I have my music ( Joe Satriani - Flying In A Blue Dream ) and life is much more survivable at this point. I may even be able to sleep soon.

The sun is shining into the bedroom and the weather outside is warm - perfect sleeping weather. I hope for restful sleep with good dreams that contain cheese and snappy music.

This shadow brought to you by the letter "L"...

2007-05-16T09:28:00.000-04:00

Well, we survived our most recent excursion to Las Vegas. Barely but we did survive.

First, there was the mad cup bomber at the Luxor - right down the strip - and then there was the massive fire that took out what amounted to a whole city block in area. That mixed with the normal sin and debauchery that is prevalent in that part of Nevada and we were lucky to see central Kentucky again!

But we are back and have the pictures to prove it!

The Bellagio Hotel (where we didn't stay)

The Bellagio fountains are cranking up...

Who is that cutie pie?

The second day of our week long Vegas excursion we were staying at the Planet Hollywood (the old Aladdin). We had gone out for our 4 mile run/walk/wait for the traffic lights/walk/dodge traffic/run in the morning and then we got ready to head out to the pool.

At the Planet Hollywood the pools are on the sixth floor on the side of the hotel facing the Strip and the sun rises on the opposite side of the building. Hence, the sun doesn't get to the pool until about 10:30AM. We are all layed out and freezin' our butts off because even though the temperature was in the nineties the week before we arrived, global warming has dictated that the temperature should now be in the upper 60's. I guess we were being punished for not purchasing carbon offsets from Al Gore's company.

Anyway, I am all kicked back pretending that I am warm and that I do this all the time (even though the pasty white skin covered with goose pimples was a dead giveaway to the opposite). I am gazing at the part of the pool deck that is now lit and enjoying some warmth (that would be the part that we are not on) and I begin commencing to cipher just how long it would take for the sun to reach our chairs. No matter what number I come up with would likely be wrong but since I told my guess to no one I can pretend to be right one no one is the wiser.

I am ruminating of just how tall the hotel is, the angle of the sun, how fast the earth is turning (or how fast the sun is moving if you are a flat earther) to try to come up with how long it will be until Cherri and I are basking in the rays of the southern Nevada sun. I come up with a figure of a half hour give or take 30 minutes and I begin to wait to see how close I am.

I read or look around or do whatever and now my thoughts have wandered off to something equally as geeky when I realize that we are surrounded by sunshine. We are not IN the sunshine but we are surrounded by it. I am now somewhat confused by this and I decide to do the one thing that I have been told by people that are concerned with preserving my eyesight tell me not to do - ever - .

I look up. That would be at the sun. At the very sun that is shining all around us but not on us. That is when I see them, the sun and the "L" that it is now firmly ensconced behind. The "L" in the Planet of the Planet Hollywood that we are staying in. The very "L"that is keeping us in the dark while the rest of the word allows all those around us to shed the towels that they were using for blankets up until just a few minutes ago.

Under normal conditions I would insert a good natured "life sucks" in here but we were in Vegas and that made life good, not sucky.

Although it seemed like an eternity, albeit a brief eternity, the shadow finally moved off to annoy some other pasty white, goose pimple skinned tourist and we got our share of the toasty, low seventies weather that we had hoped for.

We didn't spend long at the pool however, because it was windy and even though the sun was finally shining brightly, the temperature plus the wind chill encouraged us to head back to the room and get ready to head down to the local P. F. Changs for some lettuce wraps and szechuan beef.

Life is indeed good.

Nothin' but fur babies!

2007-04-13T09:31:00.000-04:00

Snack time!

Floozie Lucy!

Scarlet

Baxter catching a few zzzzzzzzz!

Sylvester

Still floozin'

The family that eats together...

More, PLEASE!

Just cleanin' up

Sleepin' it off...

Where's Lucy?

We don't care!

This is just half of the young uns'.

The other half may show up later...

It has been a good day...

2007-04-12T09:42:00.000-04:00

Wednesday was a good day for Cherri and me. We went to the Audiologist for the 'two week after turn on tweak of the software' which is normal and expected for implanted folk. I don't actually remember if the software was tweaked or not but we got to take part in some tests that proved that the implant was alive and well and firing on all cylinders.
A bit of background may be in order so here goes.
Before and after the implant was, well, implanted, Cherri went through large batteries of tests. I will mention only a few of them here.
In one test was the Audiologist reciting at random a list of six two syllable words.

GEEKSPEAK: These words are called spondee words and consist of words that equal meter and equal stress on the syllables. Words such as baseball, hotdog and ice cream.

Before the test started she (the Audiologist) went over the list by saying each word. She would then place a knitting hoop covered in black cloth over her face and would begin to recite the words. Cherri would then relay the words back. At the initial turn on, Cherri was able to pick up exactly zero words. This was not unexpected. When the test was performed Wednesday, Cherri was able to get six of seven words. FANTASTIC! It may be a simple test but the results were profound! I was really impressed by my punkin'!

The next test was a Ling six sound test.

GEEKSPEAK : A Ling six sound test is used to isolated phonemes to target low, middle and high frequency sounds. The sounds are: [m], [ah], [oo], [ee], [sh] and [s].

The Audiologist used the same snappy black hoop in this test too. In the initial turn on test, Cherri got either zero or one correct, I cannot remember exactly (I am sure that she will fill me in later.) At Wednesday's test, Cherri got four of six. A respectable showing on any day but the exciting part was that she got the [sh] and the [s] sounds! These were sounds that Cherri has not heard in decades!
We then went to the sound chamber to test Cherri's response to different frequencies. She passed with flying colors! The Audiologist came in and showed us the resulting audiogram and compared it to the results before the implant. We were stunned! The results of the tests showed a basically flat response across the frequency used by speech. Cherri's normal hearing results in what is called a "corner audiogram". It simply means that her hearing ability is confined to the lower left part of the audiogram. She can hear up to about 850 hertz with some help but beyond that there is nothing and no amount of amplification would help.

All that gibberish means the implant is picking up lots of groovy sounds and sending it to her brain. She was given some tools by the Audiologist to help her start to discriminate all of these new sensations into usable words, phrases and sounds. Time is the watchword here. It will take time for her to make good use of the implant and no amount of poking, prodding or impatience will help. It will come on it's own in it's good time.

Life is good! Let's head to the beach!

What this blog is all about...

2007-04-08T15:19:00.000-04:00

I am not much of a blog reader.
I have to admit that I am old and getting somewhat older most every day. Some days I age more than others but it all seems to average out. Being my age makes me want to have a piece of paper with the print and the images on it. That way I can move it about so it can hit the sweet spot on my bifocals without craning at unnatural angles such as I would at a monitor trying to catch enough pixels to make sense. I will read blogs of friends but that is about it. It takes time too much time for my neck to recover.
I am not much of blog writer either. This is my first blog and I will likely spend most of my time spell checking on Dictionary.com and rewording my sentences so that I may give the appearance of being a reasonably sane person. I would settle for any flavor of sane but reasonably sane is my goal. I have big aspirations in life.
This blog mostly will be about my experiences with my wife and her 'condition'.
My wife and good friend Bionic Fruit recently underwent surgery for a cochlear implant.
She is a saint pure and simple. She has never once said an ill word about anyone, anything or about her lot in life. She married me some twenty four years ago and has suffered mighty indignations since. I do believe that she saw me simply as a charity case in need of primping and preening so that I might become sociably acceptable. I also believe that she misunderstood my marriage proposal as a question to whether she needed another foot massage or not. In any event she said yes and here we are. All that being said, I married up and I am forever grateful to her for that.
She began to lose her hearing as a young person and has spent most of her adult life profoundly hearing impaired. That is not to say that she is totally deaf. She hears naturally only frequencies of about 850 Hertz and below. That isn't really enough of the sound spectrum to derive intelligent conversation. Maybe that is why we seem to get along... Anyway, the consonants in the English language ( The part that imparts the most meaning to the words ) lie in the sound spectrum well above her highest perceived sound. That said, still she does remarkably well -better than most- in the day to day world. She is an accomplished lip-reader and can understand most of her friends on the telephone.
Life sucks but you can learn to adapt.
Back to the cochlear implant. -Short version- Hearing bad, hearing aids don't help, cochlear implant might, therefore cochlear implant it shall be. And so it is. The implant surgery was successful in that the implant was installed and she she survived it. Beyond that is where we are today.
The implant was 'switched on' almost three weeks ago and she is deep into the learning process that it takes to learn how to hear again using electronic input instead of acoustic input. Everyone that she converses with that has had the implant tells her that it will take time and lots of it to get to a level of reliability even remotely close to natural hearing. Even now she is listening to children's books on tape with the accompanying books to re-learn the simplest sounds and forge the new pathways in her brain and yet she does not once complain. Did I mention that she is a saint?
In the coming weeks and months the squeaks, beeps, boops and other noises that she hears will begin to work it's way into being intelligible. My hope is that when she can understand what I am saying that she won't kick me to the curb. Maybe I should offer her another foot massage...