Sunday Scribblings - If I had to live at a different time in history - 10/12/08

This week's Sunday Scribblings prompt is "If I had to live at a different time in history":

When I lived in Wyoming, my job often required that I drive across its lonely expanse in winter, which lasted September through May in a mild year. I had lots of time to reflect, as there were miles and miles where the only broadcasts on the radio were the cattle report or cowboy poetry readings. It always amazed me looking across the frozen, high plains, with its predominant forty mile an hour wind creating horizontal snowfall, how the pioneers survived. I had all the modern conveniences and I was still miserable during the dark months.





Interstate 80, which is one of the main arteries of the United States, linking San Francisco, Chicago, and New York, travels across southern Wyoming. This 400 mile stretch is obviously the weak link in the entire 3,000 mile journey. Interstate 80 rises to an elevation of nearly 9,000 feet near Laramie, but the mean is around 5,000 feet. I say this because there are times each winter that huge portions of it are impassable due to whiteout conditions. Gates are closed and all traffic stops. Motorists have the option of returning to the nearest town (of which there are few) or remaining in their vehicle. I have seen miles of tractor trailers parked waiting for the interstate to reopen. Every spring thaw they find motorists that elected to remain in their vehicles. And I80 is a major superhighway; you don’t even want to know about county and secondary road conditions.











Wyoming weather is extreme and unpredictable. With that in mind, consider piloting a Conestoga wagon across the prairie not knowing when a beautiful autumn day was going to turn to a deadly blizzard. I would have been a horrible member of a wagon train. I think I would prefer freezing to death to climbing into a fresh buffalo carcass to keep warm. They were an amazingly hearty people, surviving disease, weather, bandits, and Indians that did not wish to be colonized. I am not a pioneer. In spite of nearly 30 days in the Boy Scouts, I have absolutely no survival skills. I cannot start a fire without an excellerant. I could not track an animal on the beach. Every knot I have ever tied came loose on its own. I am allergic to everything that grows or blows. If I go more than eight hours without eating I become a one-man Donner Party.


My microwave stopped working the other day and it created a crisis that made me temporarily forget about my disappearing 401K. A lost remote control in my home is cause for sending out a search party. Lost car keys require the formation of a posse. As a frontiersman, I would have been considered a tenderfoot. I am all right with that.

Wordless Wednesday - Skooter Visits His Birth Daddy - 10/08/08

Skooter visited his birth daddy, Max (left). Just like all family reunions there was a lot of growling, marking of territory, and ass-licking.

Sunday Scribblings - "Forbidden" - 10/5/08

This weeks Sunday Scribbling’s prompt is “Forbidden”. This is a great word that conjures up lots of ideas. Then I came across these Dog Rules and there was only one way I could go with this.

Dog Rules
1. The dog is not allowed in the house.
2. Okay, the dog is allowed in the house, but only in certain rooms.
3. The dog is allowed in all rooms, but has to stay off the furniture.
4. The dog can get on the old furniture only.
5. Fine, the dog is allowed on all the furniture, but is not allowed to sleep with the humans on the bed.
6. Okay, the dog is allowed on the bed, but only by invitation.
7. The dog can sleep on the bed whenever he wants, but not under the covers.
8. The dog can sleep under the covers by invitation only
9. The dog can sleep under the covers every night.
10. Humans must ask permission to sleep under the covers with the dog.


Skooter is absolutely forbidden from my bed. He knows it and I know it. Somehow my position as master has been compromised. Hey, I am the superior being here. I have opposable thumbs and everything!!!!.

Wordless Wednesday - Best of Show - 10/1/08

In his first competition, Skooter narrowly wins best of show.

Sunday Scribblings - "Tale of Two Weddings" - 9/28/08

The Tale of Two Weddings:

My two sons were married within a year of each other. I need to say upfront that nothing is more important in my life than my three kids and now my two (soon to be three) grandchildren. I have always enjoyed participating in their lives. The weddings of my sons were very significant occasions my life.

The first son was married in an outdoor ceremony on the grounds of one of the many beautiful country clubs that the Myrtle Beach area is famous for. I was a groomsman and very proud to be part of this event. As father of the groom, I honchoed the rehearsal dinner. It was held in a clubhouse on the beach and I had it catered southern style: barbecue and all the fixin’s. Many of the guests were from the north and had not experienced a genuine pig picking. Since most of the attendees were coming from out of town and arriving early, we elected to invite all invited guests to the rehearsal dinner, instead of the customary participants. Nearly all of them were able to attend. As a result, we ran low on food long before I was ready to stop serving. I ended up running to a local pizza place and buying a dozen or so pies to supplement our spread. It was a great party and everyone seemed to enjoy the day. The wedding went off without a hitch, even though we were worried about an outdoor affair in the sweltering heat of August. I have many fond memories of that weekend, which I felt very much a part of.

The second son was married in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, a God-awful place, which looks like Myrtle Beach without the attraction of the beaches. The ceremony took place in one of those tacky chapels that usher one wedding out one door as another is entering through another door. The proprietors were rude and surly, as was the photographer. I was not a part of this wedding at all. The rehearsal dinner was a weenie roast at a cabin in the mountains conducted by one of the bride’s many uncles or cousins. I was invited, though I definitely felt like a crasher at a family reunion. I was such an outsider to the wedding that I was told I would not need a tux, until the last minute when it was decided that it would be better for the wedding photographs if I did not wear my golf attire, so I was allowed to rent a tux. It was not necessary, since I was only included in one photo (which I did not receive a copy of), while even the most obscure, shirttail cousins of the bride were posed in every possible combination. Anyone viewing the wedding album would assume my son is an orphan. I am surprised my son allowed to keep his name. Not even a hyphen. But, I felt the most sorry for my ex-wife (mother of the groom) who was shown absolutely no respect at the wedding. She was not even escorted into the chapel. She had to find her own seat and endure the same embarrassing questions by other guests that I did: “Who are you? With the bride or groom?” While a child's wedding is of great importance to the dad, it is doubly so for the mom. She flew across the country to be dissed. I have exactly the same amount of happy memories of that weekend as I have photos to commemorate it.

I have been counseled to use this forum to discuss things that bother me in lieu of my previous method of holding it in until I destroy property and inflict grievous bodily harm on others. When the Sunday Scribbling’s prompt was “Wedding”, this is the first thing that came to mind. It was not written to hurt anyone’s feelings. It is just an honest account of these two events and the contrast in the way they were conducted.

Thursday 13 - Would Another Depression Be So Bad? - 9/25/08

With all of the turmoil about our economy, the calapse of huge corporations, and widespread layoffs, there is a lot of fear among the American people that we are in a recession and headed for worse. It made me ponder whether or not a depression would actually have an upside. My father's generation survived the Great Depression and the lessons they learned served them well their entire lives. Subsequent generations (including mine) have not experienced the hardships that built the character of our nation. My Thursday 13 this week are thirteen things that came to mind that might be benefits of another depression in America. Don't get me wrong, I am not saying a depression would be a good thing, I am just saying.............

1) An end to the entitlement mentality that permeates the American society.
2) A rallying together of families, neighbors, and communities in order to survive.
3) The end of farm subsidies and paying farmers not to grow crops.
4) A chance to let the rest of the world operate without our participation as our focus will be domestic.
5) The return of the work ethic into American society.
6) Narrowing of the gap between the haves and have-nots as everyone becomes a have-not.

7) People will learn do it yourself skills to become self-sufficient.
8) Oil producing nations will have a huge surplus as our needs for oil becomes greatly diminished. They would gladly exchange oil for food.
9) The return of the extended family.
10) The end of the debt based economy.
11) A reintroduction of basic values.
12) The illegal immigrants would go back home and there would be no jobs to outsource abroad.
13) There would be nothing of value for thieves to steal.

Medical Insurance

A hot topic these days for politicians is affordable health insurance for all Americans. That sounds good on the surface, but for it to be beneficial the entire system needs to be revamped. For those not familiar, let me explain the situation that exists, at least for me.

I currently have health insurance but that does not guarantee that I will receive quality medical care. Top doctors, particularly specialists, are not in my network. The majority of the providers that are in my network received their medical training somewhere like Haiti and operate their practice from a van they share with a carpet cleaning service. Cutting edge, state of the art procedures are not available to me. Blood letting, sorcery, and sacred dances are the treatments I can realistically expect.


The reason the best doctors do not choose to participate in my care is that they can’t make any money. If a doctor agrees to participate in a network it means he essentially allows the insurance carrier to dictate how much he will be paid.

Many actions are not covered and many others require pre-authorization in order to be covered. Let’s say I need a treatment that the doctor charges $2,500 for. If the course of action is covered the insurance company may only authorize $175 for that procedure. Between the insurance company and myself, we will pay the doctor $175. So the doctor must write-off $2,325. It is not hard to understand why the top doctors are not willing to play that game.

Should I choose to survive and visit an out-of-network doctor that actually has a fighting chance of curing what ails me, I am essentially on my own. The doctor bills me $2,500 and I am obligated to pay that amount regardless of whether my insurance company participates or not.

So if a few million additional sick people are dumped into that system, the few participating doctors will be so overwhelmed that the chances of actually seeing even the least qualified doctor prior to being pronounced dead becomes very slim. Countries with socialized medicine, such as England and Canada, have long waits for needed procedures.

Many of you have seen the television commercials for the Cancer Treatment Centers of America. They are amazing hospitals that boast the most advanced cancer treatment and an amazing success rate of cure. But most of us will never be able to afford that level of treatment. I took this statement directly from their website:

What are my responsibilities?
As a courtesy to you, we will file your insurance claim based on the information you provide. Your signature will be required to assign benefits directly to the hospital and physicians. We encourage patients to review their policy so there are no hidden surprises that might occur. We will work closely with you and your insurance company to expedite the process. Unfortunately, we may not always be able to obtain prompt or full payment from your insurance company. If that happens, you will be expected to assist in expediting the claim and resolving any balances due.
Why do I still have a balance if my insurance company pays 100% of Reasonable and Customary Charges?
Some insurance companies base payment on the average charges for all hospitals in a given area. This practice does not take into consideration the specialized nature of care at certain facilities managed by Cancer Treatment Centers of America and may not cover the full cost of the care you receive. You may be responsible for any balances. You are encouraged to discuss your coverage with your insurance company prior to treatment.
What are my payment options?
Since patients are financially liable for all medical services received, we offer alternatives for patients to pay their balances. The payment options may include cash, personal check, money order, credit cards and short-term payment plans. We accept Visa, Master Card and Discover. Should you have any open balances, you may be asked to pay them prior to further treatment.

It is exactly like everything else in life. You get what you pay for.

Ashley Thomas Poem

My lovely teenage niece wrote this beautiful poem. It was obvious I was the inspiration for it. For most of her short life, she has assayed, unsuccessfully, to save my eternal soul. My sister has encouraged this effort and I am thankful for their interest. They frantically pray for me and good thoughts can never hurt, regardless of one's beliefs. I wish I could temper their Christian zeal with a bit of open-mindedness, but that is not going to happen. In their thinking, an axe murderer and I have the same status. Regardless, this is a wonderful, well-written, poem and I wish to honor it here. It is nice to have someone trying to keep me out of hell. At least I will be there with Gandhi and the Dalai Lama. I love you, Ashley. Keep writing.

MISTAKES

If you’re lost in the valley of darkness
and you don’t know what to do
Just look up to the Lord
And He will guide you through
If you don’t know which way is up
Just bow your head and pray
And I promise you
The Lord will show you the way
Towards the end of your journey
There is two roads you will find
You will have to choose one
And leave the other behind
There is one that’s wide and broad
That many people take
Until the end when they realize
That there must be some mistake
Because this road leads to destruction
Everywhere you turn
And the only thing you can see
Is the fiery pit that burns
The other road is narrow
That not many people take
But at the end they realize
That they made NO mistake
Because at the end of their long journey
They’ve finally reached heaven’s gate
And they no longer have to worry
About making anymore mistakes
Which one did you choose?

ASHLEY THOMAS
(JULY 2008)

Sunday Scribblings - "Coffee" - 9/14/08

One of the many unwritten rules in a military office environment is that the first person to arrive for duty makes the initial pot of coffee for the office. The coffee is number one priority. The defense of our nation and combating the spread of communism will not begin for the day until the coffee has been made available. This task is not delegated by rank or position (obviously Generals don’t make coffee), but chronologically. First in was the barista. I am sure that with the abundancy of Starbucks, the task has changed to picking up coffee as opposed to making it, even on foreign soil.



I was a bad team member as I have never been a coffee drinker. When I was the first arrival, the second person in would make the coffee, bitching and moaning all the while. In several different duty locations this become a morale issue. It was very important to some people that coffee be available as early as possible. I not only did not drink it but I did not even know how to make it, nor did I wish to learn. Once at each duty location, I would relent and make a pot that was either the consistency of motor oil or seltzer, depending on how many scoops I chose to include or how much vinegar I added. For some reason, I was never asked to brew again. Sometimes, just to be cruel, I would offer.