tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90282121496730784342024-03-04T23:32:02.979-08:00BurningTiger - Reborn!The rebirth of BurningTiger - observations by a humble paramedic about EMS and daily life in New Orleans.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger63125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-36536745910588254442014-12-24T08:22:00.002-08:002014-12-24T08:34:04.076-08:00The Anatomy and Physiology of the Wicked Witch of the West<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It started to rain. My friend Alex said to me something along the lines of “Don’t worry; you won’t melt.” With that allegory, I naturally immediately thought of the Wicked Witch of the West and her watery demise at the murderous hands of Dorothy Gale. Which brought to mind an entire series of questions regarding witches and water. To wit (or, to witch):<br />
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Has anyone ever heard of any other witches being sent to their doom by melting with water without irony? We wouldn’t count parodies or satires of the Wicked Witch of the West. In all the literature and visual examples I’ve encountered, I can’t think of a single other example of witches succumbing to water. This lead Alex and I to wonder: “Was the Wicked Witch of the West an exception to the rule of how to kill off witches?” Witches are clearly susceptible to fire, given the madness of the Salem witch trials and legends of them being burned at the stake. Additionally, the witch that would have devoured Hansel and Gretel succumbed to the fire of the oven after Gretel pushed her in. But I can’t think of any other examples of witches dying by water melting them. Which leads me to believe that the Western Witch was unique among her people. <br />
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Let’s, for a moment, assume that Gregory Maguire’s book (and resultant Broadway musical) “Wicked” is apocryphal and not to be considered in our analysis. However, for simplicity’s sake, I will adopt his western witch’s name “Elphaba” as the name of the Wicked Witch of the West, simply because it involves fewer keystrokes. <br />
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One of the foremost questions in such an inquiry is “How could Elphaba think it was a good idea to fly in the sky on her broom, filled as it is with clouds, water vapor, and precipitation?” Would not the water vapor of the clouds be, at the very least, painful for Elphaba to encounter? What if the clouds started to rain? It seems a reckless lifestyle, taunting fate with such abandon. And speaking of precipitation, would snow, sleet, hail or ice be as harmful to Elphaba as liquid water? At what percentage of atmospheric humidity would she experience discomfort? Would a particularly humid day cause tortuous pain, or perhaps even kill her?<br />
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How does such a being stay hydrated? Even if the more macabre among you, dear readers, suggest that she survived on the blood or flesh of human or flying-monkey victims, such bodies are at least 70% water, and clearly deadly to Elphaba. How would she pee? Surely she cannot have just “held it in” all those years (although that would go a long way in explaining her notorious irritability). Would she even possess kidneys and a bladder?<br />
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I came up with the notion that instead of eating and drinking as the rest of us do, perhaps her green skin was green because it was actually filled with chlorophyll, allowing her to photosynthesize nutrients the way green plants do. However, Alex was quite astute in quickly pointing out that her wide-brimmed hat protecting her face from light and long, dark gown and cape would render photosynthesis unlikely, given the continual shade she carried around with her. Such an observation left us perplexed at her dietary needs. It further led to the auxiliary question, “Can she get sunburn?” which, alas, yet goes unanswered.<br />
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Should the matter of love arise, even an act as simple as a kiss could be deadly, what with all the water comprising saliva. And of course, even if the above matters were obviated by some miraculously unlikely set of circumstances, and the romance were to mature to its full fruition, the act of giving birth and Elphaba’s “waters breaking” would surely send her to an early grave. Further, would her infant inherit her hydrophobic qualities? How would her fetus survive in a womb and placental sac surrounded by fluid comprised of mostly water? <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi44QJmazybWwuGvLDS7tjpatZr0tHLclUdLw_VXk4d5CmRB3PXH4hgCrT8PUKBsBmtIOhlg5uX7oZCAG3inp94FmfgkDwX1Oc4HILQo7nU80u6rxv9pj49PluFHd0kLEn4kLFfCcJPzOM/s1600/WWmelt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi44QJmazybWwuGvLDS7tjpatZr0tHLclUdLw_VXk4d5CmRB3PXH4hgCrT8PUKBsBmtIOhlg5uX7oZCAG3inp94FmfgkDwX1Oc4HILQo7nU80u6rxv9pj49PluFHd0kLEn4kLFfCcJPzOM/s1600/WWmelt.jpg" height="179" width="200" /></a></div>
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Could she engage in strenuous activity? Would she perspire? Might a hot day trigger sweat glands? Would perspiration be a potential cause of death as she would be exposed to the large amounts of water in the perspiration covering her? What would happen if she physically encountered someone else wet with sweat by brushing up against them, or perhaps during an innocent hug?<br />
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Was the Wicked Witch of the West the archetype of other legendary witches? Or was she the lone exception to the usual biological rules involving witches? What ARE the biological rules involving witches? All these questions proved too fraught with confusion for Alex and I at the time. Any insight you might have would be greatly appreciated. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-64859446030573469502013-07-08T07:19:00.003-07:002013-07-08T07:19:21.682-07:00Tripe of the Month Club<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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From the archives... <u><b><br /></b></u></div>
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<u><b>Tripe of the Month
Club</b></u></div>
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-by Sean Fitzmorris</div>
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[Not so] recently my wife and I received in the
mail a brochure offering us to join the “Book of the Month” club.
The booklet stirred some curiosity in us, so we scanned through it,
seeking out titles that would grab and hold our attention. We were
not disappointed. As we perused our choices, we were astounded at
some the names of the books offered.</div>
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Now don’t get me
wrong; I know that there are only so many hundreds of thousands of
words in the English language. Therefore writers must be severely
constrained as to titular choices. In view of these obvious
restrictions, therefore, naming works is all about shock value. Grab
the reader’s attention by the throat like a rabid pit bull on crack
and don’t let go until he buys that book! It is for this reason
that we have books with names like we noticed in the Book of the
Month Club presentations.</div>
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One of the first titles to catch our
notice was <u>How to Cook Everything</u>. What an ambitious tome this
must be! Imagine! Detailed instructions on cooking <i>everything</i>!
My mind boggled with the possibilities. Oh, I’m sure it had all the
usual trite recipes, ingredient lists, metric conversion charts and
so on. But one can only assume that there are steps to preparing for
a delicious repast shoes, concrete, hazardous gasses, the
aforementioned pit bull and presumably, the book itself. How far does
it go? Does this volume avoid the obvious taboo of, say, cannibalism?
On whom were the recipes for everything tried? Woe to the unfortunate
soul who had to undergo the dubious honor of being the guinea pig for
the chapter on “Sharp Objects.”</div>
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Another title that
surprised me was <u>Fitness Walking For Dummies; A Reference For the
Rest of Us</u>. Fitness <i>walking</i> for dummies? I must say that
if anyone needs to purchase a book on how to walk, then I doubt if
fitness is truly their most pressing problem. The last time I
researched the matter of walking, I realized that the process of
actually getting up and going over to the bookshelf pretty much
resolved any questions I might have had. Evidently, though, I have
not appreciated all the subtle nuances of walking, since someone
found it necessary to write an entire volume expositing what for all
these years I have taken for granted. Maybe it goes through the
history of walking, possibly devoting chapters with titles such as
“The First Big Step - Crawling from the Primordial Ooze”; “From
All Fours to Biped Locomotion – An Illustrated History”; and of
course the requisite tear-jerking stories of persecution and the
human spirit, “Walking Through the War Years.”</div>
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<u>Rules for Aging</u>
is another name that touched a curious place in me. I can just
picture the Nursing Home Police stationing themselves down the
corridors of the retirement center, handing out citations to all the
inmates who were non-compliant with the Rules for Aging. Who exactly
is supposed to get these aging individuals to learn and later follow
these rules? And who made them up? Some inconvenienced young person,
I’ll wager, who is bitter over having to care for his older parents
that gave up their own lives to unselfishly provide for such an
ingrate. I always figured that aging individuals had pretty much
earned the right to make up the rules for themselves and didn’t
need some whippersnapper to tell them what to do.</div>
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One gripping story
that I can’t wait to read is called <u>How to Clean Practically
Anything</u>. This must be the long-awaited sequel to the previous
<u>How to Cook Everything</u>. Logically, one would need to clean up
after cooking “everything.” So what a handy reference this must
be! I wonder if the author accepted the challenge of describing how
to clean dirt. Anyone can figure out cleaning linoleum, clothes,
walls, cars and so on, but really spic-and-span dirt is my test to
them. So how ‘bout it?</div>
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A few other titles
raised some thought provoking questions. For instance, how did the
author of <u>Extraordinary Sex Now</u> manage to find the time to
actually pen this tome? Furthermore, how did he/she determine what
was “extraordinary” as opposed to the merely ordinary? No doubt
there are those among us who would consider <i>any</i> sex
extraordinary, no matter how plain. What about the author’s
partner(s)? Did they too consider this sex extraordinary? How do we
know that the author is not such a dullard to the point that
extraordinary sex is any form of copulation during which his or her
partner didn’t fall asleep? One would think that <u>Slow Hand:
Women Writing Erotica</u> would be a natural successor to this work.
But I’ll gamble that absolutely none of the heroes and heroines in
<u>Slow Hand</u> display a working knowledge of any of the advice
given in <u>Extraordinary Sex Now</u>, perpetuating my probably
misogynistic theory that women don’t even know what they want, so
how can we men?</div>
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Don’t even get me
started on <u>Get Anyone to Do Anything</u>. I can only assume that
this is the great-granddaddy of encyclicals from which all the other
book titles I have reviewed here spring. <u>How to Manage Your Mother</u>
was another title which drew my inquisitive gaze, but about which I
found it necessary to write an entirely separate article.
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Yes, I know the old
adage that you can’t judge a book by its cover. But as book covers
are all that the Book of the Month Club has given me to go by, I say
that they are fair game. Now please excuse me, but I must go finish
reading <u>The Idiot’s Guide to Forming Premature Opinions</u>.
</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-46672401734843505302013-04-18T06:58:00.001-07:002013-04-18T07:27:47.224-07:00Trivia Quiz from April 17, 2013 - "First & Foremost"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>First Time for Everything (10 questions)</b><br />
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1. What two people appeared on the first cover of TV guide in April 1953?<br />
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2. The first known humans to fly did so over what city?<br />
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3. Who was the first person to break the sound barrier?<br />
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4. Who was the first actor to star in a talking motion picture?<br />
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5. The first immigrant to pass through Ellis Island was from what country?<br />
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6. Who was the first female artist inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame?<br />
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7. Who was the first canonized American saint?<br />
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8. The first heavier-than-air flight took place where?<br />
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9. The first nuns in New Orleans, known as “casket girls,” were of what Catholic order?<br />
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10. Antoine Peychaud was the creator of what New Orleans cocktail?<br />
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<b>Answers </b><br />
1. Lucile Ball & Desi Arnaz Jr.<br />
2. Paris (Nov. 21, 1783 in a hot air balloon)<br />
3. Chuck Yeager<br />
4. Al Jolson in <i>The Jazz Singer</i><br />
5. <i> </i>Ireland<br />
6. Aretha Franklin<br />
7. Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini<br />
8. Kitty hawk, N. Carolina<br />
9. Ursulines<br />
10. Sazerac<br />
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<b>Boozehounds (10 questions)</b><br />
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1. The Irish word for whisky is Uisce Beatha. What does it literally translate to?<br />
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2. Sake was originally made by people who chewed the rice & spit it into fermenting vessels where it would become an alcohol. By definition, sake is therefore ___<br />
a. wine<br />
b. liqueur<br />
c. beer<br />
d. sour mash<br />
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3. What causes the bubbles in Guinness to sink rather than rise when a pint is poured?<br />
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4. “The Green Fairy” is both a brand name and euphemism for what alcoholic beverage?<br />
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5. What type of drink is known by the same word as the Low German word for “swallow?”<br />
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6. V.S.O.P. on a bottle of cognac stands for what?<br />
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7. Anheuser-Busch can trace its roots back to 1852 and the Bavarian Brewing Company in what North American city?<br />
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8. What liqueur is named after its color?<br />
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9. What South American country claims exclusive appellation rights to the type of brandy known as Pisco?<br />
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10. Falstaff beer shares a name with a character that appears in 3 of William Shakespeare’s plays. Name one Shakespearean play in which Falstaff appears.<br />
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<b>Answers</b><br />
1. Water of life<br />
2. c. beer<br />
3. The shape of the pint glass<br />
4. Absinthe<br />
5. Shnapps<br />
6. Very Superior Old Pale<br />
7. St. Louis, Mo.<br />
8. Chartreuse<br />
9. Peru<br />
10. Henry IV Part 1, Henry IV Part 2, The Merry Wives of Windsor<br />
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<b>The Old Gods of Carnival (10 questions)</b><br />
Every answer or question has to do with a current carnival krewe.<br />
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1. Bacchus was the god of what?<br />
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2. Fathered by Poseidon and born of Medusa was the winged horse known as what?<br />
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3. What krewe gets its name from this mythical Himalayan utopia?<br />
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4. This god is the Titan that holds up the celestial sphere.<br />
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5. This krewe takes its name from the Greek god of transitions & boundaries, and conducted souls into the afterlife.<br />
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6. This was the greek goddess of the night.<br />
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7. This god of the sea was Poseidon’s first son. His name even means “first.”<br />
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8. This Egyptian god is often depicted with the head of an ibis, and holds a rod and an ankh in his hands.<br />
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9. Whoever held this position in ancient Rome was revered as a god.<br />
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10. Name what each of the 9 muses are the muse of. It's not necessary to name the muses themselves, just what they are the muses of. 1 point for each correct answer. You must be specific. (Hint: there are 10 domains, one muse pulls double duty)<br />
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Answers<br />
1. Wine<br />
2. Pegasus<br />
3.Shangri-La<br />
4. Atlas<br />
5. Hermes<br />
6. Nyx<br />
7. Proteus<br />
8. Thoth<br />
9. Caesar<br />
10. Calliope: epic song, Clio: history, Euterpe: lyric song, Melpomene:
tragedy, Terpsichore: dance, Erato: erotic poetry, Polymnia: sacred
song, Urania: astronomy, Thalia: comedy & bucolic poetry.<br />
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<b> Places to Go, Things to See (12 Questions)</b><br />
I took all these photos in Orleans Parish, on the East bank. Answer the questions as specifically as you can.<br />
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1. At what intersection am I?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUlELKRgw_oJWgz9J2V82lcKX2JYjnhSZUS59yQ-Kt7Kp_F8Mc1ezGdB-saLFgfDdeZop63f5IRTnVefdeBRdDT-wu68kaKBEFGiNTWMJP2QW86zbzJvTLWbyWt_Q0CUoYixZuPUepVWo/s1600/DSC_0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUlELKRgw_oJWgz9J2V82lcKX2JYjnhSZUS59yQ-Kt7Kp_F8Mc1ezGdB-saLFgfDdeZop63f5IRTnVefdeBRdDT-wu68kaKBEFGiNTWMJP2QW86zbzJvTLWbyWt_Q0CUoYixZuPUepVWo/s1600/DSC_0002.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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2. What landmark is directly behind me?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcS8KDeFBkz0mD_yf9HwqGeUZzGgCdD6RzmDtE1J8lJeokd5lSk_kxU__XHfJw4Pot5SI5S7WVPqLziEusumB_tDYPnNpUYYG4xn7Aml7HBIFxSK10BYX6ukkkQ852NiLtThOaDi17oeo/s1600/DSC_0022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcS8KDeFBkz0mD_yf9HwqGeUZzGgCdD6RzmDtE1J8lJeokd5lSk_kxU__XHfJw4Pot5SI5S7WVPqLziEusumB_tDYPnNpUYYG4xn7Aml7HBIFxSK10BYX6ukkkQ852NiLtThOaDi17oeo/s1600/DSC_0022.jpg" width="225" /> </a></div>
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3. What building am I in?</div>
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4. What building is directly behind me?</div>
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5. These nudists are frolicking on the lawn of what building?<br />
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6. What restaurant am I spying on?</div>
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7. At what intersection can I get their poboys?</div>
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8. In what neighborhood or on what street can I get world famous creole tomatoes?</div>
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9. What building am I standing in?</div>
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10. In the French Quarter, what city-run building is immediately to my right?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQVL-Xx72aJQkf24WirT1u6TSOi3MfmTXQMVYybFBOR_998OOR9gRLmaO9bGFjUglUljd_zRNhvU_ugSXgUQ1SWweai73lxCKJTU73TuuEmyQC9oyTA4Uvl6DmOzmudwagJKiWl8Hw6gE/s1600/DSC_0011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQVL-Xx72aJQkf24WirT1u6TSOi3MfmTXQMVYybFBOR_998OOR9gRLmaO9bGFjUglUljd_zRNhvU_ugSXgUQ1SWweai73lxCKJTU73TuuEmyQC9oyTA4Uvl6DmOzmudwagJKiWl8Hw6gE/s1600/DSC_0011.jpg" width="362" /></a></div>
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11. What building is directly behind me and this guy?<br />
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12. What is this?<br />
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<b>Answers</b><br />
1. Canal Blvd. & Robert E. Lee.<br />
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2. Lee Circle<br />
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3. Canal Street ferry terminal<br />
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4. St. Louis Cathedral<br />
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5. Lakefront Airport<br />
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6. Cafe Maspero<br />
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7. Elysian Fields & St. Claude<br />
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8. 3100 block of Chartres, the Bywater<br />
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9. Canal Place<br />
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10. Fire station<br />
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11. Tad Gormley Stadium<br />
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12. Mardi Gras Fountain at the Lakefront<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-35611296567782654442013-02-07T13:03:00.001-08:002013-02-07T13:38:38.092-08:00Trivia quiz from Feb. 6, 2013<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>Celebrity Animals - 15 Questions <br />Name the species or breed of the famous animal!<br />Example: Lassie - Collie (not just dog). King Kong - Gorilla (not just monkey).</b><br />
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1. Rin Tin Tin<br />
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2. Shamu<br />
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3. Moby Dick<br />
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4. Toto<br />
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5. Mr. Ed<br />
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6. Marcel <br />
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7. Rex and King Zulu<br />
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8. Ling Ling<br />
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9. Punxsutawney Phil<br />
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10. Morris<br />
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11. Pepe Lepieux<br />
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12. Dolly<br />
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13. Ben<br />
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14. Clyde<br />
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15. Scooby Doo<br />
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<b>Answers:</b><br />
1. German shepherd (or alsatian for the Europey types)<br />
2. Orca or killer whale<br />
3. Sperm whale<br />
4. Border Collie (in the "Oz" books), Cairn Terrier (1939 "The Wizard of Oz" and 1978 “The Wiz”), Border Terrier (Return to Oz, 1985)<br />
5. Palomino<br />
6. Capuchin monkey (from “Friends” TV show)<br />
7. White tigers (Audubon zoo)<br />
8. Panda<br />
9. Groundhog<br />
10. Orange tabby<br />
11. Skunk<br />
12. Sheep<br />
13. Grizzly bear (from “Grizzly Adams” TV show)<br />
14. Orangutan (from the movie “Any Which You Can”)<br />
15. Great dane <br />
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<b>In Common - 10 Questions</b><br />
<b>What does each group of animals have in common?</b><br />
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1. Dodo, wooly mammoth, stegosaur<br />
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2. Penguin, kiwi, emu. (Given: all birds)<br />
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3. Leech, flea, bedbug (Given: all invertebrates, all parasites)<br />
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4. Bullfrog, Siamese fighting fish (betta), walking catfish (Given: all vertebrates, all aquatic, all lay eggs)<br />
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5. Minotaur, mermaid, centaur (Given: all mythical)<br />
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6. Monarch butterfly, spider, buck moth (Given: all invertebrate arthropods). <br />
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7. Honeybee, Fire ant, prairie dog<br />
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8. Rattlesnake, scorpion, platypus<br />
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9. Crawfish, silverfish, jellyfish (Given: all invertebrates, all have fish in their name.)<br />
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10. Whale shark, blue whale, ostrich (Given: all vertebrates)<br />
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<b>Answers:</b><br />
<b> </b>1. All extinct<br />
2. All are flightless birds, all from southern hemisphere<br />
3. All feed on blood<br />
4. All breathe air and water<br />
5. All are half-human<br />
6. All produce silk<br />
7. All live in colonies<br />
8. All are venomous<br />
9. None are fish<br />
10. All are the largest of their species<br />
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<b>Creature Feature - 12 questions</b><br />
<b>All these people have animal names in their name.<br />Example: This golfer is a little too popular with the ladies. - Tiger Woods</b><br />
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1. This actress is famous for the line “All right, Mr. DeMille, I’m ready for my closeup.”<br />
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2. Maverick’s sidekick.<br />
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3. This is one of the few famous white basketball players.<br />
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4. This guy somehow made a career of skateboarding.<br />
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5. This performer is now known as Yusef Islam<br />
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6. This man has achieved legendary near-godhood in Alabama.<br />
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7. Friends with Mr. Greenjeans.<br />
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8. This boy-band singer is out of the closet.<br />
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9. His real name is William Cody.<br />
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10. Jim Morrison’s nickname.<br />
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11. A king of England from 1189 - 1199.<br />
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12. Politician who wanted to establish “a contract with America.”<br />
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<b> Answers:</b><br />
1. Gloria Swanson<b> </b><br />
2.<b> </b>Goose<br />
3. Larry Bird<br />
4. Tony Hawk<br />
5. Cat Stevens<br />
6. Bear Bryant<br />
7. Captain Kangaroo<br />
8. Lance Bass<br />
9. Buffalo Bill<br />
10. The Lizard King<br />
11. Richard the Lionheart<br />
12. Newt Gingrich<br />
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<b>Spot the Species! - 10 questions<br />Picture round</b><br />
<b>Name the species of animal! All are common to Louisiana.</b><br />
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1. <br />
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7. <br />
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10. <br />
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<b>Answers:</b><br />
1. Mallard duck<br />
2. Tarpon<br />
3. Ibis<br />
4. Damselfly<br />
5. Copperhead<br />
6. Nutria<br />
7. Mole cricket<br />
8. Red ear turtle, painted turtle, or Mobile slider<br />
9. Roseate spoonbill<br />
10. Possum<br />
<br />
<b>I Could Eat a Horse - 12 Questions</b><br />
<b>From what kind of animal does the food come?</b><br />
<br />
1. Lox<br />
<br />
2. Foie gras<br />
<br />
3. Mutton<br />
<br />
4. Haggis<br />
<br />
5. Bouillabaisse<br />
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6. Unagi<br />
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7. Capon<br />
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8. Fugu<br />
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9. Butter<br />
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10. Chitlins<br />
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11. Kippers<br />
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12. Confit<br />
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<b>Answers:</b><br />
1. Salmon<br />
2. Goose or duck<br />
3. Sheep<br />
4. Sheep<br />
5. Fish<br />
6. Eel<br />
7. Rooster<br />
8. Puffer fish or blowfish<br />
9. Cow<br />
10. Pig<br />
11. Herring<br />
12. Duck</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-73773861721157722012013-01-03T09:59:00.003-08:002013-01-03T09:59:20.361-08:00Trivia from Jan. 2, 2013<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b><i>What do you consider "Home?" The world? The USA? Your city? Your neighborhood? That's the theme of the trivia quiz from Jan 2, 2013 where we consider the theme "Home." (Well, MY home anyway.) </i></b><br />
<b><i>Categories are: World Sports, Patriotic Songs of the USA, New Orleans in Fiction, and Lakeview (my neighborhood). Answers are at the end of each category so grab a pen and a friend and test your knowledge!</i></b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>World Sports</b><br />
<br />
1. What is the sport of kings?<br />
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2. If you have 15 guys on a team who engage in a scrum and maybe a haka, what sport are you playing?<br />
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3. If you take an agricultural swing after being bowled, what are you playing?<br />
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4. In badminton, we often call it a “bird” or “birdie.” What is the projectile actually called?<br />
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5. What gravity-driven sport has its origins in the Pacific island of Vanuatu?<br />
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6. What sport are you engaging in if you wear a montera, hold a muleta and use a puntilla?<br />
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7. Sumo wrestlers try to do either of 2 things: Force the other wrestler out of the dojo or what?.<br />
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8. In what city were the first modern day Olympics held?<br />
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9. For what country and in which sport do the "All Blacks" play?<br />
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10. In cockfighting, what is the arena called where two roosters fight?<br />
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<b><br />Answers</b><br />
1. Horse Racing<br />
2. Rugby<br />
3. Cricket<br />
4. Shuttlecock or Shuttle<br />
5. Bungee Jumping<br />
6. Bullfighting<br />
7. Touch the ground with anything other than the soles of his feet.<br />
8. Athens, Greece<br />
9. New Zealand; rugby<br />
10. Cockpit <br />
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<b>Patriotic Songs of the USA</b><br />
Name that tune! What is the title of each piece?<br />
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10. (Extra point if you can name the vocalist)<br />
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1. Grand Old Flag<br />
2. Stars and Stripes Forever<br />
3. Battle Hymn of the Republic<br />
4. Hail to the Chief<br />
5. America the Beautiful<br />
6. America: My Country ‘Tis of Thee<br />
7. Halls of Montezuma<br />
8. The Star Spangled Banner<br />
9. Yankee Doodle<br />
10. God Bless America (Vocalist: Kate Smith)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>New Orleans in Fiction</b><br />
<br />
1. Actor Tim Reid inherited a New Orleans restaurant in what TV show?<br />
<br />
2. Which Simpsons character got his own fictional series pilot set in New Orleans?<br />
<br />
3. Irene Reilly and Myrna Minkoff are characters in what New Orleans based book?<br />
<br />
4. On what New Orleans street did Stanley and Stella live in ‘A Streetcar Named Desire?”<br />
<br />
5. Francis Parkinson Keyes wrote a novel set in a famous New Orleans restaurant. The restaurant’s name is in the title. What is the title of the book?<br />
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6. Which Star Trek captain is a native of New Orleans? (Kirk, Janeway, Sisko, Archer, Picard)<br />
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7. Nicholas Cage starred in “The Bad Lieutenant - Port of Call: New Orleans.” This was a remake of what 1992 movie?<br />
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8. “Live and Let Die,” set in New Orleans, was which number of Ian Fleming’s James Bond films? (As in first, second, third, etc. Not including Casino Royale with David Niven)<br />
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9. Who played my cousin, Lee Harvey Oswald, in Oliver Stone’s, JFK?<br />
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10. What soundtrack song from Elvis Presley’s New Orleans movie “King Creole” reached number one on the Billboard pop charts?<br />
<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b><br />Answers:</b><br />
1. Frank’s Place<br />
2. Chief Wiggum (“Chief Wiggum, P.I.)<br />
3. A Confederacy of Dunces<br />
4. Elysian Fields<br />
5. Dinner at Antoine’s<br />
6. Capt. Sisko<br />
7. Bad Lieutenant<br />
8. Eighth<br />
9. Gary Oldman<br />
10. Hard-Headed Woman<br />
<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b>Lakeview</b><br />
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1. What popular restaurant/reception hall was located where Tropic Oil Change is now located on Canal Blvd?<br />
<br />
2. What is Lakeview Harbor’s sister restaurant?<br />
<br />
3. The New Basin Canal stretched along what is now West End Blvd & Pontchartrain Blvd. It ran from Lake Pontchartrain to where? (Street intersection or landmark)<br />
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4. The semicircle shaped parks on either side of Canal Blvd. at Robt. E. Lee are called what? <br />
<br />
5. What is the collective name for the structure of businesses at Canal Blvd. & Robert E. Lee?<br />
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6. What is the actual name of the potter’s field cemetery which stretches from City Park Ave to Delgado Playground?<br />
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7. What is the name of Lakeview’s team of 9-12 year old baseball players?<br />
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8. What is the only pet shop in Lakeview?<br />
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9. How many churches are on Canal Blvd?<br />
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10. The Homedale Inn, serving drinks since ____?<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Answers:</b><br />
1. L’enfant’s<br />
2. Port of Call<br />
3. Howard & Rampart, near the Union Terminal<br />
4. Peridot Park<br />
5. The Rockery<br />
6. Holt Cemetery<br />
7. Lakeview Vikings<br />
8. Coral Reef<br />
9. 9 (including the disused synagogue)<br />
10. 1937</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-6841433625839673222012-12-18T11:09:00.000-08:002012-12-18T11:14:31.288-08:00You Asked My Opinion On Guns & Control Laws<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So, some folks have wondered about my take on gun control in light of the shooting at Newtown, CT. Yes, I have one, and I fully expect my opinions to fall into the heaving maelstrom of other opinions, lost forever in the storm of loud voices. But here you go anyway.<br />
<br />
Since you bring up gun control... Frankly, I was a bit shocked when I purchased my own guns. I have four: a shotgun, two Glock handguns and a .223 assault rifle. When I purchased them, I only had to provide the exact same credentials as I do when I buy a bottle of wine. With the shotgun purchase, the only reason I needed to provide ID was to verify my credit card. With the handguns and rifle, they said they’d run my ID through the FBI gun check database, which I assume they did, and I walked out of the store 15 minutes later with shiny new weaponry. The only registration I have are my receipts for the purchase. Maybe the serial numbers are now listed in the FBI’s records. I don’t know. I hope so. There’s no way for me to check. I certainly haven’t been asked to update the attached information such as my address or phone number since then, even though it’s changed.<br />
<br />
That I could purchase weapons so easily is kind of scary. What’s even scarier is the <i>other</i> folks that can just as easily purchase them. If someone has a history of violent crime and is banned from having guns, it’s perfectly easy for them to get a friend to legally purchase a gun for them. But here’s the problem: they’ve already committed a crime that landed them in the “banned from guns” category. Here’s an even scarier tidbit: many acts of violence in the throes of mental instability go unreported and are treated as part of an “illness” rather than “violence.”<br />
<br />
The FBI database used for gun checking is full of criminal names and conviction histories. Fine. No problem. What it doesn’t contain are the thousands of folks who have clearly demonstrated suicidal, homicidal or just plain violent behavior. As an emergency room nurse, every day I see people who are PEC’d (Physician’s Emergency Commitment). A PEC means that someone is mentally or emotionally “gravely disabled” (quoted from the PEC paperwork). And as other emergency personnel know, often the individuals need a revolving door. In other words, psychiatric patients unstable enough to require a PEC often return again and again after threatening their family or pulling a knife or gun on their parents or beating up their grandmother (no, I’m not kidding). <br />
<br />
“Yeah, yeah, mental health sucks, blah, blah, blah; we’ve heard it before,” you say. I’m not talking about mental health care, <i>per se</i>. What I want folks to realize is that of all the hundreds of people cramped into emergency rooms right this minute under a PEC, <i>none</i> of that violent behavior (also read as “warning signs”) will go reported to the FBI or any other agency besides maybe the coroner’s office who can extend a PEC to a CEC (Coroner’s Emergency Commitment). Because the warning signs of mental instability are being treated as a disease rather than a prelude to violent behavior, such individuals are protected by HIPAA laws, that prevent the release of information about the individual’s actions that landed them under a PEC or CEC. Further, sometimes family members need treatment for their fractures, lacerations, contusions or other injuries that led up to the trip to the hospital in the first place. In other words, the unstable individuals have <i>already</i> committed violent acts! But press charges against their loved one? Treat it as a crime? Oh heavens, no! That’s their baby; he’s not a criminal, he’s just ill. <br />
<br />
These gravely disabled people, with a concrete history of violence and antisocial behavior but no criminal convictions, can walk into the same gun shop as I did and purchase whatever weaponry they want just as easily as I did. They may be next door to you right now, or behind you in the checkout line, or visiting your children’s school as you read this.<br />
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Much hype is made over other countries' gun control laws and lack of violence by guns. “Japan, for example, has almost no gun violence,” you point out. Terrific! They have a well-known respect for discipline and maintaining order. We could use some of that here, to be sure. Since we’re focusing on only one thing in your argument, I’ll mention only one thing too: the Japanese culture, with its low gun violence and well-disciplined people, are also the folks who had absolutely no problem with murderous suicidal kamikaze pilots in World War II. Guns in Japan? Nearly nil. Great! The culture that produced kamikaze? Going strong. Think about that for a while.<br />
<br />
If you <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/news/datablog/2012/jul/22/gun-homicides-ownership-world-list" target="_blank">check statistics</a>, the US is way down the list of gun-related homicides per capita. Number twenty-eight on the list, in fact. Meaning what? That twenty-seven countries with stricter gun laws have more gun-related deaths than the US per population. Further, as has been pointed out many times, Sandy Hook Elementary is a “gun-free zone,” as were all the schools, malls and public places that have had <a href="http://thinkprogress.org/justice/2012/12/14/1337221/a-timeline-of-mass-shootings-in-the-us-since-columbine/?mobile=nc" target="_blank">mass shootings</a> in recent years. Connecticut has, in fact, some of the strictest gun laws in the country. Yet twenty-seven people are dead. Didn't really help, did it?<br />
<br />
So what to do? Enact laws banning all guns? Do you really think that will get them off the street and out of the hands of violent, criminal or mentally unsound people? “Well, at least there would be fewer guns to go around,” you reply. Let’s look at another example: we’ve banned heroin, crystal meth, crack, and LSD. Has that ban gotten them off the street? <br />
<br />
If it was up to me, I’d include some better information in the FBI gun checking database. Include the folks who have a history of violent mental instability. You’ve been PEC’d or CEC’d? Into the “banned from guns” list you go! Yes, this may require revising HIPAA laws. HIPPA may protect an individual’s personal mental health history, but it’s<i> your</i> health that’s at stake when a mentally gravely disabled individual walks out of that gun shop with his shiny new weapon. <br />
<br />
Further, I’m not sure that arming teachers is the way to go, but I’m guessing that more than a few grieving families are wishing right now that one or two Connecticut teachers were armed. <br />
<br />
Restrict guns more? Absolutely. Ban guns altogether? Hell no! Encourage and provide proper gun training easily and cheaply? For sure! <br />
<br />
As a parting thought, how many times have we read the headline about a ‘Killer Goes On Murderous Rampage In School/Mall/Office” or other gun-free zone. Compare the number of times you’ve heard that to the number of times you’ve heard “Killer Goes On Murderous Rampage At Local Gun Show.” Don’t think I’ve ever heard that.<br />
<br />
Stay tuned for more commentary later.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-16438851715375612222012-12-06T18:09:00.001-08:002012-12-06T20:24:48.792-08:00"Compass Rose" Trivia Quiz<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>(Questions as of Dec. 5, 2012)</b><br />
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<b>East</b><br />
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1. Marco Polo traveled east from Europe to establish trade with what country?<br />
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2. Who is the host of the Food Network’s cooking show “East Meets West”?<br />
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3. The direction east on the longitude grid is calculated from longitude 0 degrees. What is the the line at Longitude 0 called?<br />
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4. All Muslims are expected to make a pilgrimage to what Middle Eastern city at least once in their lives?<br />
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5. What is the largest country in the Eastern hemisphere?<br />
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6. From what does a nor’easter get its name?<br />
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7. Israel was re-established in the Middle East in what year of the 20th century?<br />
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8. Easter falls on the first Sunday after what Jewish holiday?<br />
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9. In what country does the West end and the Middle East begin?<br />
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10. The film industry of India is collectively known as what?<br />
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Answers<br />
1. China<br />
2. Ming Tsai<br />
3. The Prime Meridian<br />
4. Mecca<br />
5. Russia<br />
6. The direction the wind comes from.<br />
7. 1948<br />
8. Passover<br />
9. Turkey<br />
10. Bollywood <br />
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<b>West</b><br />
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1. According to “Wicked,” the prequel to “The Wizard of Oz,” what was the Wicked Witch of the West’s real name?<br />
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2. Peru is on the west coast of South America and has only one time zone. In what time zone are they?<br />
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3. In describing Eastern things, we use the word Oriental. What word is used to describe western things?<br />
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4. When traveling to the West Bank from the East bank across the CCC, in what direction are you actually moving?<br />
<br />
<br />
5. What country has the westernmost capital of the Western Hemisphere?<br />
<br />
<br />
6. The West Coast of California is well known for the “Hollywood” sign in Los Angeles. This sign did not always say “Hollywood.” What did the sign originally say?<br />
<br />
<br />
7. Ahmed Aleywa, a native of the west African country of Mauritania, is currently famous for doing what?<br />
<br />
<br />
8. In the movie “Far and Away” starring Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman, where were they traveling west from?<br />
<br />
<br />
9. New Orleans is on what longitude west?<br />
<br />
<br />
10. If a hurricane is traveling due west towards New Orleans, from what direction will the wind come just before the eye arrives? <br />
<br />
<br />
Answers<br />
1. Elphaba<br />
2. Eastern time<br />
3. Occidental<br />
4. East<br />
5. Mexico<br />
6. Hollywoodland<br />
7. Booting a New Orleans ambulance<br />
8. Ireland<br />
9. 90 degrees<br />
10. North<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>North</b><br />
<br />
1. Who were the male and female lead roles in Alfred Hitchcock’s “North by Northwest”?<br />
<br />
<br />
2. Until 2009, the north magnetic pole was located within the territory of which country?<br />
<br />
<br />
3. The Mason-Dixon line is on the border of four states. Name two of those states.<br />
<br />
<br />
4. What team of the SEC is physically in the northernmost location?<br />
<br />
<br />
5. The northernmost part of the Mississippi River is in what US state? <br />
<br />
<br />
6. If you look due north from the wharf on the river at Napoleon and Tchoupitoulas, what town are you looking at?<br />
<br />
<br />
7. Name all the US states with North in their name.<br />
<br />
<br />
8. Over what body of water is the Northwest Passage?<br />
<br />
<br />
9. The Aurora Borealis is also know by what more common name?<br />
<br />
<br />
10. The 4th century archbishop of Turkey provides the legendary basis for what well known northern figure today?<br />
<br />
<br />
Answers<br />
1. Cary Grant & Eva Marie Saint<br />
2. Canada<br />
3. Pennsylvania, Maryland, Delaware & West Virginia<br />
4. University of Missouri<br />
5. Minnesota<br />
6. New Orleans<br />
7. North Dakota, North Carolina<br />
8. Arctic Sea<br />
9. The northern lights<br />
10. Santa Claus<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>South</b><br />
<br />
1. What swanky gated community is in the southernmost part of Orleans Parish?<br />
<br />
<br />
2. How many college teams make up the Southeastern Conference?<br />
<br />
<br />
3. Nelson Mandela was a political prisoner for 26 years in South Africa for advocating against what government policy?<br />
<br />
<br />
4. What was the first US state to secede from the Union?<br />
<br />
<br />
5. As of right now, is the south pole in continual darkness, continual daylight, or part day and part night?<br />
<br />
<br />
6. What New Orleans road divides the North named streets from the South named streets?<br />
<br />
<br />
7. When a pollywog becomes a shellback, what has he done?<br />
<br />
<br />
8. Southern University plays against what team in the Bayou Classic?<br />
<br />
<br />
9. What was the last US state to secede from the Union?<br />
<br />
<br />
10. What James Bond movie was filmed in Hollywood South?<br />
<br />
Answers<br />
1. English Turn<br />
2. 14<br />
3. Apartheid<br />
4. South Carolina<br />
5. Continual daylight<br />
6. Canal Street<br />
7. Crossed the equator into the southern hemisphere.<br />
8. Grambling<br />
9. Tennessee<br />
10. Live And Let Die<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Tiebreaker: Name the four official BCS bowl games.<br />
Sugar, Orange, Fiesta & Rose Bowl</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-18215069485179159572012-11-04T07:00:00.003-08:002012-11-04T08:44:21.842-08:00Are You Wasting Your Vote? Are You Sure?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I’m not telling you who to vote for. I’m not telling you to vote at all. But if you do vote, it’s incumbent upon you to vote for someone for the right reasons. People have sometimes described my voting choices (such as for "third party" candidates) as “wasting your vote because they cannot win.”<br />
<br />
I won’t go into how that sort of reasoning defeats the purpose of free elections. But it does bring up the issue of “wasting your vote.” Ask yourself “why am I voting for this particular guy?” Is it because of a single reason or issue you have as a pet peeve? Are you voting for Obama because of his position on gay marriage? Are you voting for Romney because the Republican party endorses him? Are you voting “not for this guy, but <i>against</i> that guy"? If your decision is based on a single issue or the lesser of two evils, then you, my friend, are wasting your vote. <br />
<br />
Would it surprise you that there are not two, but <i>eleven</i> presidential candidates? Who are they? What do they all stand for? Sure, not all may have the same view as you on, say, space exploration, but you may be surprised how many similarities you do share. Here’s a <a href="http://www.isidewith.com/" target="_blank">fascinating website</a> I found. <a href="http://www.isidewith.com/" target="_blank">http://www.isidewith.com</a> It is a website that doesn’t endorse any particular candidate, but instead offers a brief quiz to find what <u><i>you</i></u> stand for and matches up what you believe in with the presidential candidate with the same views as you. No candidate will match you exactly, but it will give you an excellent feel for who would properly represent YOU. Take the quiz. I highly recommend answering the additional questions in the links at the bottom of each section. Certainly not all questions have a clearly defined yes-or-no response, so click the “Choose another stance” which brings up other choices. You may be surprised who matches your ideals.<br />
<br />
After you take the quiz, be true to yourself and vote according to what you find. If it turns out that your thoughts are more in line with Goode, Obama, Stein, Johnson, Romney or someone else, then vote that way! Don’t make your decision based solely on abortion or gay marriage or “he’s black” or “he’s not black” or because you belong to a particular party or because your favorite news outlet says so. Vote because your candidate is the right person for the job. No one will be exactly perfect, but go with what is best for all of us according to what you find out overall. Don’t vote for someone because of one single issue. Don’t waste your vote.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.isidewith.com/" target="_blank">http://www.isidewith.com</a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-64270160600814558052012-10-11T10:00:00.003-07:002012-10-11T10:24:20.193-07:00Trivia Game!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I was the host of Trivia Night at the Homedale Inn. Not everyone could come but many wanted to play and asked me to post the questions. So here are the questions & answers. 4 categories - "Let's Do A Science!" "'Pop' Culture," "Arts & Literature," and "TV Jingles."<b> </b>The answers appear at the end of each category. Play on your own or with friends!<br />
Note: TV Jingles has audio clues. "Pop" Culture answers will all have either the letters "pop" or the sound "pop." Enjoy!<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Let’s do a science!</b><br />
<br />
1. The latest NASA mobile rover to explore Mars is called Curiosity, but its official mission name is what?<br />
A. Mars Science Laboratory<br />
B. Mars Space Laboratory<br />
C. Mobile Science Lander<br />
D. Mars Science Lander<br />
<br />
2. You can do two things with farts - you can smell them and ignite them. What chemical is responsible for BOTH processes?<br />
<br />
3. You can turn a bottle of Diet Coke into a rocket by adding what candy? <br />
<br />
4. Viagra, Cialis and other drugs used for erectile dysfunction have a warning to seek emergency medical attention for an erection lasting over four hours. What is the medical term for such a persistent erection?<br />
<br />
5. Iran is in big trouble for refining uranium which can be used in atomic bombs. What is the name of the process involved in an atomic bomb exploding?<br />
A. Fusion<br />
B. Fission<br />
C. Antimatter reaction<br />
D. Particle acceleration<br />
<br />
6. In the famous Scopes Monkey Trial in 1925 the State of Tennessee prosecuted John Scopes for teaching evolution in a state-funded school. Name either the prosecuting attorney or the defense attorney in the trial.<br />
<br />
7. Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin were the first two men to set foot on the moon. The third member of Apollo 11, Michael Collins, never set foot on the moon. What is the name of the spacecraft he was piloting while Neil and Buzz were romping on the moon.<br />
<br />
8. Your cell phone can probably tell you where you are right now. They can determine this by measuring the distance to the nearest two cell towers. This process of determining location based on two landmarks is called what?<br />
<br />
9. GMO foods are creating quite a controversy right now. What does GMO stand for?<br />
<br />
10. Which of the following terms does NOT describe lightning?<br />
A. Plasma<br />
B. Static Electricity<br />
C. Alternating Current<br />
D. Charged leaders<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><br />Answers to Let's Do a Science!</b><br />
<br />
1. A. Mars Science Laboratory<br />
2. Hydrogen sulfide (You can ignite methane but you can't smell it.)<br />
3. Mentos<br />
4. Priapism<br />
5. B. Fission<br />
6. Clarence Darrow - defense<br />
William Jennings Bryan - prosecution<br />
7. Columbia<br />
8. Triangulation<br />
9. Genetically Modified Organism<br />
10. C. Alternating Current<br />
<br />
<b><br /> </b><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>“Pop” culture </b><i>(All answers will contain either the letters "pop" or the sound "pop."</i>)<br />
<br />
1. What is the common New Orleans name for a red soda?<br />
<br />
2. Esther Ciccone had a number one song in 1986 dealing with pregnancy and abortion. What was the song?<br />
<br />
3. The Swiss Guard protects the nation governed by this head of state.<br />
<br />
4. This inventor of the Veg-o-matic, the Pocket Fisherman and spray-on hair in a can has had his commercials on TV for over 50 years. Who is he?<br />
<br />
5. What is the atmospheric boundary layer between the troposphere and the stratosphere? It lies between 6 & 11 miles above the surface of the earth.<br />
<br />
6. An urban myth has “Mikey” of the Life cereal commercial dying of what?<br />
<br />
7. What is the name of the artery behind your knee?<br />
<br />
8. This dangerous animal’s name literally means “river horse” in ancient Greek.<br />
<br />
9. In 1858 the lyrics to a popular song were published in Boston. The first three verses were:<br />
“All around the cobbler’s house<br />
The monkey chased the people<br />
And after them in double haste...”<br />
What is the last verse (the title of the song)?<br />
<br />
10. This Latin term might be used to describe what the man on the street says. It literally means “the voice of the people.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Answers to "Pop Culture"</b><br />
<br />
1. Pop rouge<br />
2. Papa Don’t Preach (By Madonna - Ciccone is her given last name and Esther is the name she chose after embracing Kaballah.)<br />
3. The Pope<br />
4. Ron Popeil<br />
5. Tropopause<br />
6. Pop Rocks<br />
7. Popliteal<br />
8. Hippopotamus<br />
9. Pop! Goes the Weasel<br />
10. Vox populi<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Art & Literature</b><br />
<br />
1. William Faulkner lived in what is now known as the Faulkner House in New Orleans. On what street is it?<br />
<br />
2. In Bill Watterson’s comic strip “Calvin and Hobbes,” how old is Calvin?<br />
<br />
3. “La Gioconda” is more commonly known as what? (Hint - it's a painting.)<br />
<br />
4. In 1993 Anne Rice bought an orphanage in uptown New Orleans. What was the name of the orphanage?<br />
<br />
5. The Oscars are also known as the Academy Awards. What is the full name of the Academy that presents the awards?<br />
<br />
6. On Wisner Blvd. at the entrance to City Park there is a sculpture of General P.G.T. Beauregard on horseback. How many feet (hooves) does the horse have on the ground?<br />
<br />
7. “The Last Supper” by Leonardo Da Vinci is an example of what kind of mural technique?<br />
A. A mosaic<br />
B. A fresco<br />
C. A secco<br />
D. A marouflage<br />
<br />
8. Montresor seals up Fortunato in a wall in what story by Edgar Allan Poe?<br />
<br />
9. What is the name of the narrator in “Moby Dick?”<br />
<br />
10. In “A Streetcar Named Desire” what is the name of the New Orleans neighborhood that Stella and Stanley live in? Not the street name.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Answers to Arts & Literature</b><br />
<br />
1. Pirates Alley<br />
2. Six<br />
3. The Mona Lisa<br />
4. St. Elizabeth’s<br />
5. The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences <br />
6. Three<br />
7. C. A secco<br />
8. The Cask of Amontillado<br />
9. Ishmael<br />
10. Faubourg Marigny<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>TV Jingles</b><br />
<br />
1. What is the title of this TV theme song? The actual name of the song, not "the theme from... "<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzpxJYGGYPmcptom04wCt-4R6lk1KW3UBQ2Ix0iTRykTQhSBC6LIOWEZcXYh9yBtU9BMqbs85-Y9N4Rxmtmzw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
2. This ad is an audio landmark in New Orleans. What kind of business is it advertising?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyQrEdXWyJoaKI6v7LnUpJr_p3OLl8bojY74FMCK1_nUgvX3L25WNf2Y4eBNVprO0Bu5xjjJA9XV1Ym_j4v2A' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<span id="goog_1056564278"></span><span id="goog_1056564279"></span><br />
<br />
3. This is the theme music from what?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwIo4jTf29uZtJKClGZ_XquXpLEHZIfGv3RWAfSnCg7eN5_r-C6Eshl7ExnVCqhtn41UUw8Kz-SpBjKR_dyGw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
4. What is the name of the business being advertised in this ghetto, local TV ad?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwkb9WT9ETUQPE1VcBqeraPWgtLOlj8Q1dIARQUSfLKZ832je41V6blLOsMx51iaBPw9tMmg4SAXw2DForXog' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
5. Name any three characters OR actors from the main, central cast of the show with this theme song. Not a mix of actors and characters.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxnlfgRiwsk89XFgGpU0qvVFd0pUAbNLuR95tq_dpN-jLi05yaeTN-VBdhqe9M3mhOKQfkFJz1yi4n7IGq6DA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
6. In this unintentionally violent New Orleans ad, who “kills them all?”<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy3ut79_-eKU0eXhFsvTDqIpH6ucjFRAN2Su_n803tkb3_b1KLWvTlXdWW09aDN2hmFIXJ6NMyPn-IHTYje' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
7. What TV show had this clip as part of its theme?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwfaGR4ihNjUkYl2rnri16Uvryy3BvQKNPrlEamnlGuf8_JrP3cOxflwK_9AX3goYY8E6yFKM5FlkiUl5Bi4Q' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
8. This series from 2003 was a re-imagining of a TV series by the same name from 1979. What actor played roles in both series? Main character in 1979, recurring role in 2003. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Here is the 2003 theme music.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dza8jpbzGx7dbdoPZJU3k7iSUfELAigaCgb8FSdoybN5a4bnaKYlrnWPfCvbv1fWluTF9hvPvfzINlWJlITfw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
And here is the 1979 theme music. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzXIauCtFj-9KLuhpvKjzNEaImO-LFopjZff5S08-WVUmcKH1qpdRZbkNirEqA5chUo9eAEIiSDgIbL_88N5w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
9. Many of us were introduced to this music from either Saturday morning cartoons or from the movie “Apocalypse Now.” What is the title of this piece?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwaLKMj6Lzo3LVgky66DD1NYbteb3F35jQ5oW_U6dR5QG63ucxG3jTZnGu-bxmcGfUknntUZtNgoCV4-NbTFA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
10. What is the address of the business being advertised? In other words, finish the jingle.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzUdlYooxwUIrkccJiL6B5XOSf_s5DUTye61P38ywluHvROx-gcYzGGQZBw0ucq__vbl6Jd7H-M0HDyhYwVCg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
Bonus-tiebreaker. What is at Seafood City’s address now? <br />
<br />
<br />
<b></b><br />
<b></b><br />
<b><br /><br /> </b><br />
<br />
<b>Answers to TV Jingles</b><br />
<br />
1. Suicide Is Painless<br />
2. Furniture store<br />
3. National Geographic<br />
4. Frankie & Johnny’s<br />
5. The Partridge Family-<br />
Shirley Jones - Shirley Partridge<br />
David Cassidy - Keith Partridge<br />
Susan Dey - Laurie Partridge<br />
Danny Bonaduce - Danny Partridge<br />
Susan Crough - Tracy Partridge<br />
Dave Madden - Reuben Kincaid<br />
Brian Forster - Chris Partridge (1971-1974)<br />
Jeremy Gelbwaks - Chris Partridge (1970-1971)<br />
<br />
6. Miller the Killer<br />
7. Josie and the Pussycats<br />
8. Richard Hatch<br />
9. Ride of the Valkyries<br />
10. 1826 North Broad <br />
Bonus/tiebreaker. Walgreen's</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-56888865261984321262012-05-08T19:50:00.000-07:002012-05-09T10:53:13.377-07:00Jack and Jill Grow Up<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Jack and Jill Grow Up<br />
By Sean Fitzmorris<br />
<br />
Jack woke up aggravated. His mother always made him get the fresh water for the day first thing in the morning. The last thing he felt like doing was leaving his warm, snug bed to go trod through the cold, wet grass with that heavy bucket full of water. And whose bright idea was it to dig the well on top of the hill? If there was so much underground water around, why didn't they just sink the well down where the village was?<br />
He got dressed and fetched the heavy bucket, grunting an unintelligible response to his mother's "Good morning" on his way out the door. She had been in a good mood lately, even after the king, Midas, had taxed their goose so heavily that they were forced to sell it. It turned out that the king, in his unquenchable thirst for all things golden, had his eye on that goose since Jack had gotten it from the giant at the top of the enormous beanstalk. Midas had sent his own handpicked taxman to excise the astronomical tax that had been levied on all "supernatural farmyard animals and poultry." Having no choice but to sell the goose to pay the tax, which was a cash outlay much higher than the goose itself could produce in the way of golden eggs, Jack and his mother sold it for a fair enough profit, but the buyer was a second henchman for the king. Now the king had both the tax money and the goose. The thought of it galled Jack. But at least his mother had found a man to keep her happy. He had originally come into their lives because of the wealth and fame of the goose, but he stayed even after that had ended. Jack supposed it was just because he had nowhere else to go. She usually awoke in the mornings in a great mood these days, which surprised Jack because it sounded like she and her boyfriend were up all night, judging from the noises coming from her room<br />
None of that helped Jack's mood any. He regretted cutting down that beanstalk every morning he hiked to the well. It was the earth-shattering crash of the giant’s body to the earth that had wrecked the entire water supply system of the village, forcing the villagers to turn to antiquated wells and watersheds to obtain potable water. At first, this was merely an inconvenience for most, but eventually it became a serious health hazard when the giant's body began to decompose. The sanitation workers' union declared that corpse removal was not their job; and the water plant's employees balked at the idea of touching the rotting body since it was a clear violation of their own water-workers' union rules. The funeral homes simply laughed at the idea; where were they going to get all the heavy equipment necessary to dispose of such an enormous corpse? By the time the town subcontracted the work out, the huge body had contaminated all the nearby rivers, streams and lakes. Furthermore, most of the townsfolk were not only weary of dragging buckets of water around, but they had grown very tired of eating beans every single meal. But they had to eat them, lest the beans that had grown on the beanstalk sprout, creating a veritable forest of the tremendous beanstalks; and there were years’ worth of beans stored up, which didn’t help the townspeople’s patience. Jack's fame had quickly turned to notoriety following the "Beanstalk Incident." <br />
He passed his friend, Jill Muffet, on the way to the well. He had liked Jill for a while, even though she was a girl. She was good company, and he asked her to go up the hill with him on his daily water run. She agreed, and off they went.<br />
After the long hike up the hill, they rested for a minute. Jill, being a girl, had started to mature much faster than Jack, and had begun to develop a serious crush on the boy. She also rather liked the idea of being friends with someone as well known as Jack. It was like having a celebrity for a boyfriend, even though he was now mostly famous for causing the water shortage and surplus of beans. As they rested on the hill, Jill engaged Jack in idle conversation, much of it involving her asking his opinion of her, but she also loved to hear him recount his experiences at the top of the huge beanstalk. After a while, though, Jack decided that it was time to head back home, so up he went to the well and dropped the rope down, with the bucket on the end. As he raised it back up, Jill noticed the boy’s developing muscles and determined that she was in fact, truly in love with him. In her mind, this infatuation had gone on long enough and it was time to do something about it. Just as Jack got the pail to the top of the well and turned around to head back down the hill, she planted a kiss smack on his lips. Jack was so startled at this completely unexpected display of affection that he lost his footing on the wet, sloping hillside and slipped down. Jill, who had surprised even herself by her sudden burst of passion, tried to grab him but found herself very off balance and likewise tumbled down the hill. Both of them were stopped by a rather large rock at the base of the hill. Jack struck the rock in such a way that he lacerated his scalp and passed out from the impact. Jill, when queried on the details of the accident was simply too mortified to tell everyone that the whole thing was her fault. Well, of course people began speculating about the relationship that the two shared and began dropping not-so-subtle hints about their suspicions of her involvement in the matter. She eventually grew so self-conscious about the whole thing that she withdrew from society in general and turned to food as a comfort, particularly that most God-awful nourishment, curds and whey. Psychiatrists would describe it as a form of self-punishment for the terrible accident that so seriously wounded her boyfriend, Jack. Seldom would Jill emerge from the safety of her parents’ home anymore until late into her therapy. Her doctor at long last convinced her to come out from her self-inflicted isolation. Just a simple adventure into the backyard was her goal for the week. Sadly, she had barely gotten out of the house and sat down for her midmorning snack of her beloved curds and whey, when a big hairy spider sat down next to her and frightened the poor girl away. She was later institutionalized.<br />
Jack, however, fared better. After a brief hospitalization and a series of MRI's and CAT scans, he was cleared to return to school and, unfortunately, his daily water routine. He one day complained so loudly and strongly about his daily chore that his mother punished him and forbade him to leave the house. The next day he turned up at school, only to find himself all alone. A sad-faced teacher explained to Jack about the disappearance of every other boy and girl in the village. They had followed the odd man who the town council had employed to rid the town of the many rats that had been attracted to the putrefying flesh of the giant. Town officials had given the strangely dressed man a bureaucratic song-and-dance about budget overruns and a lack of money to get out of having to pay, using something about "experimental and unorthodox methods" as an excuse, referring to his hypnotic woodwind music. The piper, in his anger over having been denied his payment, had used his music to lure away every last child in the village.<br />
At any rate, Jack now found himself alone. Besides Jill, who was locked away in the behavioral hospital, Jack was the only young person left in the town. As a result, the school had to close down. With his educational opportunities being so limited, as he grew older he turned to manual labor to provide for himself. When he grew up he became a woodsman, finding abundant work in the nearby forest chopping down trees and providing lumber and firewood for the village. Eventually he married a lovely Bavarian girl and built a house on the edge of the woods. Soon after moving in to their new home she bore a pair of fine, healthy twins, a boy and a girl, whom they named after her parents, Hansel and Gretel. She loved to bake and often made the children strudel, candies, cakes and pies. Sometimes she would make Jack his favorite, blueberry pie. They had a grand life together until she came down with pneumonia and died. She had made a blueberry pie for Jack that day with the last of her strength. After the funeral home had taken her body away and the children had cried themselves to sleep, Jack stayed awake most of the night. He began to nibble on the pie she had made, and eventually found himself eating it in a corner, as he had sometimes done as a boy when he felt sad over the loss of his father, Jack Horner Sr. The sense of loss and pain was almost unbearable.<br />
It wasn’t helping that his mother had begun growing old and feeble. She had married Bryce Hubbard, the man who had moved in with them years before, and had moved into a cottage set a ways into the woods. But he died, leaving Jack to care for her as well as his own children. She was eventually diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and became increasingly unable to care for herself. She seldom had anything to eat in the house. But it was just as well, for there was no telling when she might forget that she had lit the stove and burn down the house. Jack eventually took in her poor dog, for he was growing thinner all the time, since there was seldom even a bone in the cupboard. Gretel often would prepare some food to take to her grandmother, using recipes she had learned from her mother. She would hike the long way to grandmother’s house through the woods, and she would pause on the bridge over the river to throw a stone in and make a wish. When the weather was cold, Gretel would wear the red cape and hood she had inherited from her mother. She loved anything that belonged to her mother and always wished for a new mother, not only for herself, but also for her father and brother, who both often seemed sad.<br />
One day when she arrived at her grandmother’s house, she found her lying in the bed. Gretel knew that Grams wasn’t always well, but she looked particularly haggard that day. The rather icky fuzz that old ladies sometimes grow on their face was quite noticeable; not to mention her teeth and breath! She made a note to herself to bring her a toothbrush on her next visit. While she removed her red hood and cape and unpacked the basket of food, she engaged Grams in the halting, skewed conversation that was so common when dealing with Alzheimer’s patients: “Oh my, Grams! What a pretty day it is!” and “Oh my, Grams! What big eyes you have!” and so on. Each time her grandmother would try to continue the conversation by repeating the same inane replies like “All the better to see you with!” to try and cover over her loss of memory, but Gretel knew that she sometimes didn’t even know who she was. This day in particular, though, Gretel thought it odd that her grandmother mention something about “eating her” and when she turned around was startled to see her grandmother leaping from the bed, growling and snapping like a dog! Gretel dodged her in the house, realizing that it wasn’t her grandmother at all, but a wolf! Her screams were heard by her father, who happened to be chopping trees in the forest nearby. He ran in the direction of his mother’s house and found Gretel backed into a corner, being advanced upon by the wolf. He quickly dispatched it with his ax, and took his terrified daughter home. They had originally thought the wolf had eaten the grandmother, but found her hiding in a closet. After that, they got her booked into a nursing home so she could have constant care.<br />
As it turned out, a Russian fellow named Peter was hunting the talking wolf. He had been looking for him for years, and had eventually driven the wolf into the vicinity of Jack’s town. The wolf itself had achieved some infamy locally for terrorizing a local community of talking pigs. The three pigs had escaped the “supernatural barnyard animal and poultry” tax laws by actually becoming productive citizens themselves. They had even built their own houses; thought the wolf had destroyed two of them. The third pig was employed as a construction worker and was well known for the quality of his work, his own sturdy house existing as an example of his craftsmanship.<br />
Time passed, and Gretel eventually got her wish, for her father married a second time. She and Jack seemed very much in love, but Gretel and Hansel never really warmed up to her. For one thing, she insisted on calling their father by his middle name, Sprat. It was a name that he had never liked and his children couldn’t blame him. But he liked it when she called him that (or at least pretended to like it) and that was all that mattered. Another thing that rubbed the kids the wrong way was her odd diet. She often prepared beef for supper and would make sure that Jack would trim all the fat off his own serving of meat, which she would take for herself and consume! It kind of grossed the kids out, but they had no choice but to tolerate it.<br />
After some time, the kids would hear their father arguing with their stepmother late at night. Though they couldn’t hear all the details, the kids got the impression that they were arguing over them. It became clear that children were not on their stepmother’s agenda, for she had wanted a career and now found herself bound to the house by these two kids. It was arranged that Jack would take the kids with him into the woods while she went to her new office during the day. Each day, therefore, Jack would bring his beloved children with him. He didn’t really mind, as he got to spend more time with them and Hansel helped him with the wood.<br />
A couple of times, the kids had gotten lost and found their way back to their father by a trail of stones that Hansel made sure to take with him. One day, they were particularly deep in the woods when they became separated from their father. Hansel had unknowingly dropped his stones through a hole in his pocket, and therefore had nothing with which to leave as a trail save the breadcrumbs he tore off his sandwich. Of course, this was a futile effort, as the birds ate the crumbs almost as fast as he dropped them. They happened upon a house in the woods, and both of them gasped in surprise as they drew closer to the house, as it was constructed almost entirely of gingerbread and sweets! Even the windows seemed to be made of clear toffee. Each of them broke some pieces off the house and tasted them, only to find that it tasted exactly like the gingerbread that their mother used to make! When the old lady who lived in the house came out to confront the children about their consumption of her abode, they were mortified. They explained to her about how lost they were and how much like their own mother’s goodies her house tasted. The old lady soon softened and actually invited them in for something more substantial to eat. <br />
However, once she got them inside, she locked them in a cage! Despite their protests, she kept them locked up, only occasionally letting Gretel out to force her to do chores around the house, like hauling things, building a fire and cleaning up. She never let Gretel out of her sight, though, and often mumbled something about “fattening them up.” Neither Gretel nor Hansel liked the sound of that. Ever since the town’s children all followed that piper out of town years ago, the media loved to publish stories of the disappearance of children, never to be heard from again. The children now feared that this woman was the source of many of those stories.<br />
After some days of captivity, the woman asked Gretel to heat the oven. This was nothing unusual, except that after she had lit the fire, the woman asked her to climb inside to check the temperature. Gretel had expected some grotesque cannibalistic attempt on her and her brother’s life for a while now, but she was surprised that this lame ploy was the best the woman could do to get her into the oven. Instead, Gretel leaped at the woman, using much the same technique that the wolf had attacked Gretel with, and pushed the old witch of a woman into the oven. Gretel lost no time in finding the key to the cage and let her brother out. Both were out the door even before the gruesome screams emanating from the oven had faded.<br />
As they left the house, at that very time their father the woodsman was coming up the path accompanied by several police officers and agents from child protective services. He had enlisted their aid in locating the children, and the authorities were only too happy to oblige, as they were weary of the frequent television and radio reports of their ineptitude in stopping the disappearance of children in the area.<br />
When they got home, they found that their father had begun divorce proceedings from their stepmother. He fully blamed her for the children’s disappearance, as the situation would never have occurred had she not been so self-consumed with her own career. As the divorce proceedings went along, though, it was discovered that she had more than an indirect hand in the children’s abduction. She had, in fact, been collaborating with the gingerbread-house woman in order to get rid of the kids once and for all! She had even given her copies of the children’s mother’s recipes for gingerbread and cakes to serve as a lure. Years before, the two women had gotten to know each other in prison, the stepmother learning of the older woman’s grisly taste for human flesh. She could sympathize with her, since her own penchant for the fat of meat was seldom well received by many. After their escape from prison, they both kept in touch in case either ever needed the assistance of the other.<br />
The stepmother was arrested and convicted of conspiracy to commit murder and sentenced to life imprisonment in a tower. Years later, she again effected her escape from captivity by enlisting the aid of a young man, whom she coerced into assisting her by convincing him she was a princess locked away by her father to protect her. Due to the lack of coiffure services in the prison tower, her hair grew outrageously long and the naïve young man was able to help her use it as a rope to climb down from the tower. She ran off with him and remains on the loose to this day. Please notify the authorities if you have any information on her whereabouts.<br />
Hansel and Gretel grew up and began life on their own. Hansel, after the whole traumatic incident with the cage, the death of his mother and the humiliation of the trial involving his stepmother, began to develop the desire to wear women’s clothing in an attempt to create a new identity for himself, influenced by the powerful role that women had played in his life. He was so successful in his new identity that he bought a club in Greenwich Village in New York and runs one of the most popular drag shows in the region.<br />
Gretel went to college to become a research biologist. Her choice of careers was strongly influenced by her experience with the wolf in her grandmother’s house. As the kingdom still had the tax law on the books about supernatural barnyard animals and poultry, she decided to make these creatures the subject of her senior thesis, especially since the area seemed to have more than its share of these beasts. While doing research, she came across a talking frog, which eventually convinced her to kiss it. Being a young college girl and open-minded about experimenting with new things, she gave it a try. At the very least, she was curious about the rumors she had heard bout the hallucinogenic properties of licking certain amphibians, and figured this was a prime opportunity for “research.” Much to her astonishment, the frog actually transformed into a young man! She was delighted to have someone who could give firsthand information on actually being a supernatural animal, and listened for hours on end to the fellow’s stories about his life as a frog. The two fell in love during their time together and, after Gretel got highest honors on her research paper, they later married.<br />
The young man proved to be a long-lost prince of the royal court, and Gretel had a hard time getting her new in-laws to really like her. The king and queen had even tried to test her suitableness for their son with some ridiculous exercise involving a bed stacked to the ceiling with mattresses and a lone pea underneath. It wasn’t hard for her to see through their charade and made sure that she complained loudly the next day about the “lumpy bed,” knowing that his parents held to the ludicrous stereotype of the fragile, ultra-sensitive princess. She figured she might as well just patronize them and keep the friction down to a minimum.<br />
Jack was left on his own. With the kids gone and no one to talk to, he would go out into the forest occasionally to chop some wood and sell it in town. He didn’t really need to work anymore, since Hansel sent home plenty of money to pay for his expenses, and he was often invited to the palace to visit Gretel. But what else was he going to do with his time? Sometimes out in the woods he would just explore, since these days he didn’t need to be so concerned with finding suitable trees to chop. On one of his treks out in the woods, he happened upon an enormous shoe sitting upright in a clearing. After a moment, he recognized it as belonging to the giant that had chased him down the beanstalk all those years ago, and it had been left here near the site of the old disused village landfill. He walked up to it and began to notice that it was in surprisingly good shape, as if someone had been looking after it; the laces were neatly tied and it looked as if it had been recently polished. As he drew nearer, he heard a sound as if something were moving around inside. Immediately he raised his ax, in case it was some dangerous beast. Instead, a gray-headed woman emerged from what appeared to be a door cut out in the side of the shoe. “Who is it?” she called.<br />
Jack replied, “My name is Jack; I’m a woodsman.”<br />
The woman regarded him for a minute. “Jack Horner? Little Jack?”<br />
He was taken aback. Jack hadn’t been called Little Jack since his boyhood days. Immediately a flood of memories came back to him, his father, his mother, blueberry pie, Mr. Hubbard, his old best friend Jill…<br />
Jill! No wonder he thought he saw something familiar in the woman’s face. “Are you Jill Muffet?” he asked, astonished that he might have bumped into her after so long.<br />
“I am!” she said, a smile widening across her care-worn face. “How amazing to see you after all these years! Come in, come in; we have so much catching up to do!”<br />
They talked for hours that day, learning about the paths their lives had taken. Jack hesitated to mention Jill’s psychiatric treatment, but was pleased to find that Jill was quite open about it. “I just eventually grew out of it. It was just one of those really self-conscious phases that young girls sometimes go through. After I lost all the weight I had gained from all those curds and whey, I began to feel much better about myself.”<br />
He found that she had gotten married to a man who was wonderful to her. He gave her many children, all of whom she found delight in. “But after having ten children,” she explained “he turned to drinking and carousing all night. I tried to get him to stay home sometimes to help with the children, but he became so annoyed that I was interfering with his fun that he left one evening and never came back. I ended up having to care for all those children by myself. It became harder to pay the rent, so I eventually had to move out. I was getting older, and I didn’t know what to do. It was hard to find a place that I could have so many children in and pay the rent on the slim income that welfare affords. So I finally moved into this shoe that belonged to your giant.”<br />
Your giant. The words rang in Jack’s head. Of all the people that Jack ever knew, Jill was the only one who ever referred to the giant as ‘his giant.’ He realized how much he missed his old friend. Childhood friends hold a special bond, he realized as they talked. And Jill was the only friend he had left from his childhood, as every one of the other children his age had followed the piper out of town and disappeared. He began to feel long-forgotten memories and bonds of friendship stir and strengthen inside him.<br />
She recounted stories of her beloved children. The youngest had always been the cleverest. She told Jack of the time that the emperor went parading around town buck-naked. He had gotten all his lackeys to commend him on his “suit,” but her smart-aleck youngest drew widely publicized acknowledgment from pointing out that the naked emperor was just that, naked.<br />
“That was you?” Jack asked, wide-eyed. “I heard about that, the talk of it went on for weeks! I had no idea that it was your child!”<br />
“Oh yes, that was us!” Jack could tell it had been embarrassing for her at the time, but was glad that she could laugh over it now. She told him about her other children. Her former husband’s family harbored a curious genetic trait that caused offspring of the family to hold a propensity for dwarfism. Seven of Jill’s boys were affected by the trait. But they never let their small size affect their outlook on life. Jill had raised them well, and they all grew up to be diligent, decent people. One even went to medical school. But he didn’t like being so far separated from his family and moved back home afterwards. The seven brothers found it hard to get work locally so they had to move into a house near the mine they took jobs in, which was actually in the next kingdom. The last Jill had heard from them they had taken on a boarder, a lovely young woman who cared for the house well and was especially kind to their mildly retarded brother.<br />
Jill was happy that they had grown up so well but now found herself with the same “empty nest syndrome” that Jack found himself in. But now that they had gotten in touch with one another, they determined to stay friends. And as Jack left, he turned to her and returned the kiss that she had so startled him with long ago. Jill’s face became flushed, but she did not reject it.<br />
After a few visits to one another’s house, they realized that the feelings that had just begun to stir in them in their youth so long ago were being rekindled. This time there was none of the obscuring haze of hormonal emotion that the bloom of youth engenders. This time they realized that they were developing a relationship that was beyond that of childhood sweethearts and became a real, passionate love between the two of them, tempered with the patience and wisdom that maturity and experience brings.<br />
Eventually the two married, and moved into Jack’s house in which he had raised his children. Hansel and Gretel really liked Jill, and were so happy for the joy that she brought into their father’s life. The fire of Jack and Jill’s love and friendship for each other never faded in all the years they spent together. Their romance became known far and wide across the whole of the kingdom, and they lived happily ever after.<br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-15108135006267382732012-03-11T16:42:00.003-07:002012-03-11T16:49:47.816-07:00Assorted Memories (involving Emergency Rooms)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><b>Assorted Memories (involving Emergency Rooms)</b><br />
<div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">While working in triage I had two patients come in. One was a 20-something black lady with some routine complaint like abdominal pain or cramps or a bad hair day or something. The other was a 20-something white man who complained of something equally vague. I asked them both to provide a urine specimen so I could start their workup while waiting for a room in the ER to open up. The woman came back with a cup full of normal-looking urine. The man handed me a cup filled with black ink. “This is your urine?” I asked, eyebrows raised to the top of my head. “Yes,” he said. There was one open room in the ER. “Come with me,” I said as I led the man back. The woman observed me leading him back first, even though he had arrived after her. “Oh, I see how it is!” she hollered, following me to point her finger in my face. “You takin’ the white guy back before me!” I calmly turned around and stuck the jar of pitch black urine two inches from her nose. “Ma’am, this is his urine. If you can top that, I’ll be happy to bring you back first.” She looked at the vial of horrible liquid, turned around and sat quietly in the waiting room, no doubt thanking God for not having whatever causes black pee.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Working in the ER. There were five psychiatric patients admitted to the emergency room with nowhere to go. That particular hospital didn’t do psych, so the psych patients basically just wait there for a few days till their commitment papers expire. I had zero interaction with any of them all night, besides breathing the same air. At one point in the night, I was talking to a few of the other nurses. One of the nurses’ eyes opened wide as he glanced behind me and he muttered something like “Oh, shit!” Naturally I turned around to see what was happening. As I did, one of the psych patients was literally in mid-air, hurtling towards me, about one foot from me. He landed on my torso, surrounding my head with his arms and wrapping his legs around my waist. In a tiny instant I briefly toyed with the idea of asking him if he needed a hug, but then wondered if he might have finagled some sort of weapon which would currently be in his hands behind my head. The only thing I could think to say as I placed him on the floor and restrained him was “Again?!” as this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. I am quite literally <a href="http://newburningtiger.blogspot.com/2007/02/freak-bait.html" target="_blank">a freak magnet.</a> (Click <a href="http://newburningtiger.blogspot.com/2007/02/freak-bait.html" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="http://newburningtiger.blogspot.com/2009/09/so-delightful-to-meet-you.html" target="_blank">here</a> for more freak stories.)</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Though I had technically finished my shift, I decided to stay a little later to help with a patient who had just arrived. He had gotten a rubber ball stuck in his rectum. He saved himself a lot of embarrassment by being straightforward to the question ‘How did it get stuck there?’ He simply said “How do you think it got stuck there?” Well, OK. As the doctor pried it out, the guy had a good sense of humor and laughed as I congratulated him on the delivery of his bouncing baby ball. The doctor asked “Do you… um… do you want it back?” He replied completely straight-faced, “No, that’s ok. I have another one at home.” It was the first time I had seen an emergency room physician collapse on the floor in a fit of laughter.</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-7133854260767380362011-05-05T11:16:00.000-07:002011-05-05T11:16:39.722-07:00A Beautiful Day For a Crackhead<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">On My High, Thoroughbred Horse<br />
<br />
Today is a beautiful day to go to Jazz Fest! Temperature in the low 70’s, nice breeze, low humidity and not a cloud in the sky! But I won’t be there. I doubt I’ll ever be there again. You see, I fell out of love with Jazz Fest some years ago. I was there with some friends trying to enjoy ourselves. It rained, but that didn’t bother anyone; rain is just one of those things you expect sooner or later. In fact the rain provided some entertainment. It was a hoot watching all the tourists slip down in the mud. But I took a look around me - we were high up on the track at the fairgrounds near the Acura tent, listening to some well known band. We couldn’t get any closer because of the throngs of hip-to-hip hippies (or wannabe hippies), most of whom stunk and were now covered in dirt. We couldn’t see the band, but we could see them on the big TV screens. They played with as much enthusiasm as they would at their own mothers’ funeral. I could hear the music clearly; it could be described as mediocre at best. We were near the port-a-potties and a beer tent. It smelled like Bourbon Street after a particularly debauched night. Even the [very expensive] food we had consumed had been so-so at best. Another tourist fell in the mud in front of me. I laughed and pointed out the poor soul, who also was laughing. I realized then that the muddy falls were the only thing that had made me smile in hours at Jazz Fest, perhaps all day. I didn’t spent all that money and effort to come to the thing to watch tourists slip in mud, yet that was the most entertaining thing I found at the festival. It was then that I realized I had fallen out of love with Jazz Fest.<br />
<br />
I guess a big part of my disdain these days is hypocrisy, or at least false marketing. Back in the old days, twenty or thirty years ago, rarely would you see a singer or musician from outside the realm of the Deep South. Many were up-and-coming artists, hoping for a chance at fame, but happy that crowds were listening to them play and sing. Accidentally strolling by one of their stages and being captivated by their previously unknown music was one of the most appealing aspects of Jazz Fest. A couple of times while working the medical tent, Galactic, from Baton Rouge, would play their funky jazz at the stage behind us, and later I’d go buy their music. At EMS headquarters located right next to the Fairgrounds, we could hear Jermaine Bazzle, Fats Domino, Dr. John and the Nevilles. And in those days, there’d be maybe one nationally known pop singer or band on one stage on the last Sunday of Jazz Fest, without any particular ties to Louisiana or Jazz, like Paul Simon, but no one really minded. <br />
<br />
That, it turned out, was the downfall of Jazz Fest, in my humble opinion. Now, the music schedule is peppered with nationally and internationally known singers and music with absolutely zero connections to Louisiana or jazz or anything to do with our heritage, for which, ironically (or hypocritically) the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival is named. Oh, you can still see and hear the local bands and rich musical heritage for which New Orleans and Louisiana is famous. But those artists (and I use the word “artists” sincerely) take a back seat to the crowd-pleasers and big-draw names. Look at this year’s schedule. Kid Rock? John Mellencamp? Tom Jones? The Strokes? Lauryn Hill? What do any of them have to do with jazz, New Orleans or Louisiana heritage? And don’t get me wrong - I like each and every one of them and their music. What irks me is that when you hear people saying why they’re going to JazzFest, it’s because they want to see<i> these</i> performers, not our home-grown artists. JazzFest itself is culpable too, booking more and more of these types of acts as headliners while our fantastic local artists take a backseat, functioning as mere opening acts for the bigger names. <br />
<br />
It’s to the point now that even the local news find it remarkable that local artists are playing at Jazz Fest. WDSU news plastered this headline: “<a href="http://www.wdsu.com/news/27787163/detail.html">Jazz Fest Thursday Opening Has Local Flair</a>.” Local flair? We need to be reminded that the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival has local flair? Gone are the days when the “local flair” <i>was</i> the Jazz Fest. The news article specifies that the festival is presented by Shell. This does not mean that Shell Oil felt the need to subsidize Jazz Fest to make the entrance fee free or reduced, out of appreciation for our oil-dependent local economy or out of a sense of responsibility of "giving something back;" it merely means that their ads are plastered over everything, like a pimp tattooing his own name on all the prostitutes he manages. It feels as if I had to cut off ties with a good friend or beloved family member because they got too dependent on drugs or alcohol. Or fame. And this is what makes me sad.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-79075817181236698022011-04-21T09:07:00.000-07:002011-04-21T16:25:17.551-07:00Random Thoughts (Regarding Transportation)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">When I was three, I was at the airport with my parents seeing my dad off for a business trip or something. Maybe it was a business trip, I was three, so who cares, right? I decided to explore the airport while my parents were busy with tickets, baggage and the like. “Here’s an interesting doorway” I thought. “My, what a long hallway!” was my impression after entering the interesting doorway. After venturing down the long hallway, I found a big, comfy seat and climbed up into it to make myself comfortable. A few minutes later, Patsy, my dad’s secretary, came and whisked me away from my comfy seat and brought me back to my mother and father who were visibly disturbed. Apparently in 1968, it was very easy to climb aboard any old plane bound for Las Vegas. There were no x-rays or full body scanners or whatever, Yet, somehow, civilization as we know it continued.<br />
<br />
In fifth grade, my class had sold the most “America’s Finest” candy, and hence we were entitled to a pizza party at the nearby Shakey’s Pizza place. It did not occur to me to wonder at that tender age why the Corporate Executive Officer of the establishment might be named “Shakey.” Anyway, we had no school bus to transport us to Shakey’s, only four blocks away, so we walked. After having our fill of impossibly bland pizza (during which I distinctly remember singing along to Foreigner’s “Cold As Ice” [or was it Journey?]) while waiting for our pizza, my entire class walked back to the school. Upon arrival, we tarried at the entrance, during which time I decided to hop up onto a low wall bordering a garden. My butt overshot the trajectory and landed upon four feet of nothingness, causing the rest of my body to hurtle forth to the ground. Upon impact, my left arm struck a concrete cinderblock bordering the garden. When I arose from the tumble, I noticed that my hand was four inches lower than my arm - my wrist was broken!. This caused me no slight consternation, so naturally I screamed like a schoolgirl. Later, after my mom had collected me and brought me to the doctor, I had a splint wrapped with ace bandages around a rigid arm support. Since the outer covering of the splint was merely ace wraps rather than plaster, it was impossible for friends to sign, as friends of the cool kids did when they wore a real plaster cast for broken bones. With this physical and obvious reminder that I was not a "cool kid" to this day, I curse mere splints. <br />
<br />
When I was eight, my mother and my two sisters flew to Tampa to visit my mother’s brother, my Uncle Merlin. Yes, Merlin, as in the wizard in the Knights of the Round Table. Don’t say anything bad about my Uncle Merlin; he’s one of the coolest people I know, and I’ll kick your ass if you do (cool kids be damned). My mom, my two sisters, my aunt Mimi and I were flying on National Airlines. During the flight, the plane was hit by lightning. All the lights went out. Since it was our first flight, my sisters and I thought it was just part of the ride. My mom and Mimi sort of freaked out. <br />
<br />
At age twenty-eight, I got married. My dad died the next year and my Mom gave us his old Dodge K-Car. I had been driving a 1990 Ford Ranger, which I had kept nicely. The K-Car had been parked for years under the pine trees in front of my parents’ house, and was coated in the dried sap of the evergreens. It was a car preserved in amber. It could have been displayed in the Smithsonian alongside the prehistoric dragonflies and mosquitos that have been preserved through the millennia by the same mechanism. Shortly after having been bequeathed to me, the amber-preserved K-Car was my vehicle, while my new wife tooled about town in my nice pickup. I didn’t complain; something about a woman who drives a pickup always... stimulated me.<br />
<br />
In 1998, my wife and I invited my mother and our friend Ingrid to join us in a trip to Ireland to visit my wife’s parents. Long story short, the airline owed us an upgrade for bumping us off the flight across the pond and subsequently losing all our luggage. On the return trip to the United States, we were bumped up to Business Class, which I highly recommend. But on the flight from Atlanta to New Orleans, we were back in pigs-and-chickens class, which I recommend not so highly. My mother was several rows behind us during the rather turbulent flight, which seating arrangement I highly recommend. During the bumpy parts of the flight, I could hear my mother, who has a fantastic singing voice, singing “Lady of Knock” to the other woman sitting next to her. At the baggage carousel, I gave that woman what I hoped would be interpreted as an envious, yet simultaneously apologetic, glance.<br />
<br />
During my elementary school years, I rode bus number 22, driven by Mr. Jimmy, who was also my Catechism teacher. In the last year of school before Sam Barthe Athletic School For Boys was sold to Ecôle Classique, my younger brother also rode Mr. Jimmy’s bus number 22. Having seniority, and determined to take full advantage of it, as a seventh-grader I sat sullenly in the back of the bus with the upperclassmen, while I forced Patrick to sit in the front of the bus with the kids his own age. <br />
Note: I had absolutely zero talent for athleticism, while Patrick was the quintessential athletic paradigm. I have yet to forgive him for that.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-25284635736842308622011-02-25T07:23:00.000-08:002011-02-25T07:23:59.391-08:00Would finding E.T. change our view of God?The following is a comment I made on <a href="http://holykaw.alltop.com/would-finding-et-change-our-view-of-god">an article addressing the question</a> in the title of this post. The question has been posed for a while (I hesitate to say "millennia") and much effort has been spent anticipating humanity's reaction to the discovery of extraterrestrial intelligence (ETI). But I seldom see opinions discussing the alternative. So here's my two cents:<br />
<br />
Humans may be going down a road with the destination forever far in the distance with this question. If we find ETI (or they find us), great, the question is answered. Chat show pundits, theologians, atheists and philosophers are in business for life (to paraphrase Douglas Adams).<br />
On the other hand, what if we don't find ETI? When do we call it quits? At what point will we say "Yes, humans are alone in the universe"? What if the time comes when we've colonized every habitable planet in the Milky Way galaxy and still haven't found life? Right now, we look at the billions of stars out there and think "Surely, someone else is out there." But if humans are ever spread across the whole galaxy (unlikely) and no one else is there, will we say then that we're definitely alone or will we look to the trillions of other galaxies, each with billions of stars, and think "Maybe they're out there?" and devise ways to investigate that possibility? Given the virtually infinite size of the Universe and possibilities of life to examine, it seems that if we don't find other intelligent life, the search could easily continue till we die - all of us.<br />
If you've ever looked for something that wasn't there (but you didn't KNOW it wasn't there), when do you stop looking? You looked under the bed, in the fridge, between the cushions and in your pockets. And later, you looked again in all those same places and some new ones, didn't you? Even when you said to yourself "I quit!" the question still gnawed at you. Where could that thing be? The same goes for the search for ET. Even if humanity, as a collective, "quits" searching, someone will still be wondering what else to try.<br />
Until definitive proof is found that there is ETI out there, it seems that humanity's search will continue. If that search takes however many billions or trillions of years the Universe has left, I don't doubt that there will be someone who keeps searching.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-10336756753404665562011-01-28T07:12:00.001-08:002011-01-28T15:39:01.116-08:00The Not-So-Violent Toll Of Internet Shutdowns<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><title></title> <style type="text/css">
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<div class="p1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">So today you can hardly turn on the media without hearing about Egypt. Protests, riots, tear gas, police cowering on rooftops... the works. One other noteworthy thing is that Egypt’s internet access has been shut down according to multiple sources, such as <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/01/27/egypt-internet-goes-down-_n_815156.html">here</a>. Now, this internet blackout isn’t noteworthy because it happened. It’s the <i>response</i> that’s noteworthy. This was brought to my attention by @BurbDoc on the Twitters. <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/BurbDoc">As he puts it</a>, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">“</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Iran <b>shuts down Internet</b>, we get our panties in a wad. AssMubarak does the same shit, we DO NOTHING.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">”</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">As anyone on Twitter or Facebook can tell you, when Iran shut down internet access last year, vast swathes of humanity protested the lack of access. Thousands put up little green avatars (reminiscent of Iran’s flag) in “support” of their internet-deprived Iranian brethren. But as @BurbDoc puts so succinctly (which is kind of necessary in the 140 characters Twitter gives you), we who are flush with internet service now collectively say “Egypt’s internet is off? Oh, okay.”</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I have no words of wisdom or inspiring quotes from Mohandas Ghandi, Thomas Jefferson, Jesus or Mohammed to quell the riots. I have no special insight into Egyptian thinking. In fact, I don’t even know what the Egyptian uproar is about (and I’d wager that the vast majority of Americans don’t either). But I do have a great imagination. And my imagination brings me to a special place where I envision the rest of the worlds’ reaction should various countries be deprived of internet access. </span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">For example, if the headlines read “American Internet Access Shut Down!” the country would be in turmoil. A deep, sonorous hue and cry would be voiced. But since there’s no internet access, the voices would carry no farther than the next room, since no one could post their indignance on Facebook. The rest of the world would cry out against the shutdown, but secretly rejoice that the USA isn’t taking up all the bandwidth with their silly ignorance. China would offer us expensive, long-distance dialup internet, which we’d happily pay for.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">“United Kingdom Loses Internet!” The rest of the world would protest the blackout, citing England’s long history of contributions to the world’s intellectual knowledge base (but forgetting that Wales, Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Isle of Mann are also part of the UK). The people of the UK would grumble mightily, but only over many, many drinks at the pub.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">“Russia’s Internet Goes Dark!” The rest of the world offers condolences. “We’re so sorry for your loss,” they’d say, much as one uselessly offers the same line at a funeral while secretly hoping to sleep with the hot widow. The rest of the world quietly emails one another, saying it’s probably for the best that those Russians can’t get on the net.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">“China Has No Internet!” The Chinese people are duped when the government immediately puts up fake “websites” that extol the virtues of China and Communism to which every Chinese internet user is rerouted. World of Warcraft gold farmers go bankrupt, since the only people that buy their game-gold are other Chinese Warcraft players. In the rest of the world, the entire real global economy collapses.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">“Sweden’s Internet Is Shut Off!” The rest of the world writes, emails and protests the appropriate parties until the steady stream of Swedish internet porn is restored.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">“France No Longer Has Internet!” The French are saddened but quickly resolve themselves to their fate, accepting their national loss. The rest of the world brings them restored internet access. As usual.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">“Ireland Can’t Get in the Internet!” The Irish people immediately assume it must be their own fault and confess their sins to whoever will listen. Fifty billion “Hail Marys” and “Our Fathers” later, the Irish feel better and celebrate and/or drown their sorrows at the local pub. But still no internet.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">“Argentina Loses Internet Access!” Access is quickly restored when five billion soccer fans get rowdy over their inability to check up on their team.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">“Brazil’s Internet Is Shut Off!” The gay community creates their own internet and ships the entire structure to South America specifically so Brazilian guys can restart transmitting their photos and webcams.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">“No Internet in Italy!” Nobody notices. Including the Italians.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">“India’s Internet Goes Dark!” The rest of the world, looking for customer support, also completely loses internet access. The dark ages resume globally.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">“Jamaicans Can’t Get on the Internet!” The rest of the world says “Jamaica had internet?” Jamaicans say “We had internet?”</span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-53183546279420297272010-12-10T13:06:00.001-08:002010-12-10T13:14:37.623-08:00On My SoapboxNo really, I'm literally on about soap. You'd think it wouldn't be that challenging. All I want is a decent bar of soap. Not anything like "Dr. Ganja's Super Organic Earth Soap With Genuine Cannabis Naughtiness" or "Miss Victoria's Soothing Tiny Bubble Body Cleanser With Exfoliating Aromatherapy Modules" or even "Ultra-Macho Sweaty Guy Bodybuilder Body Wash With Genuine He-Man Pheromones (Women will throw their vaginas at your armpits!)".<br />
<br />
I just want a bar of soap. Not body wash. One that I can get at the grocery store, not have to go to a boutique, or order from a stupid catalog. I've been trying various soaps and can't find one that's decent. Here are my experiment results:<br />
<br />
<b>Irish Spring</b>: Smells nothing like Ireland or spring. Perhaps they mean the bed spring from an overly-scented Dublin whore's boudoir?<br />
<b>Safeguard</b>: For when I want to smell like an old men's locker room.<br />
<b>Olay</b>: Dead fish. 'Nuff said.<br />
<b>Ivory</b>: 99.44% pure toxic chemicals. And what is that weird itch afterwards?<br />
<b>Lever 2000</b>: For when you want to announce your presence to everyones' noses while you're still out in the parking lot.<br />
<b>Camay</b>: For when I want to smell like an old ladies' locker room.<br />
<b>Dove</b>: Out, out, damn'd soap! I need to use a loofah afterward to get the "moisturizing" cement off.<br />
<b>The dogs' shampoo</b>: Remarkably, the least offensive surfactant in my bathroom!<br />
<br />
So, those are the soaps that are commonly available at the store. If I've overlooked any, please recommend your suggestion so I can try it. Until then, I'll be enjoying my shiny coat and freedom from fleas.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-8822971737280966532010-12-07T06:52:00.001-08:002010-12-07T06:52:31.762-08:00My Living Will<title></title> <style type="text/css">
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<div class="p1">My “Living Will”</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I, Sean Fitzmorris, being of sound mind & body, and the fact I’m posting this on the Internet notwithstanding, do hereby make this my request should I ever be incapacitated by injury, disease, or other life-threatening process.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Under no circumstances are any healthcare providers, paid or volunteer, to perform CPR on me, including artificial respirations or chest compressions. There are exceedingly few people that survive such therapy and frankly, I’d rather use that slim chance to win the lottery.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Should the preceding request go unheeded and I am on a ventilator, under no circumstances should artificial ventilation continue for more than one week. If I cannot be taken off the ventilator in that time, please remove the endotracheal tube or whatever artificial airway is in my body and turn off the ventilator. I will take my chances. </div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Under no circumstances am I to be fed. This includes tube feedings via any port in my body including intravenous, nasogastric, orogastric, percutaneous endogastric or duodenal routes, or even if someone should offer to cut up my food and/or feed it to me. Should the recommendation for such a form of nourishment be mentioned as part of my care, I summarily refuse it.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I refuse any procedure involving a cerebral angiogram. </div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I refuse any “clot-busting” agents, including tissue Plasminogen Activator, streptokinase, retavase or any other drug used for this purpose. I do not want to hemorrhage in my brain or any other organ I am using.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Any of my organs or tissues may be harvested for donation. However, if it is recommended that I receive any donated tissues or organs, I summarily refuse. I’ve seen those poor souls after getting an organ transplant, and it may be life, but not as I know it or want it.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Under no circumstances am I to be dialyzed, in any way, shape or form, including hemodialysis, CVVHD, SLED, or CAPD. I am a happy person, and dialysis is just sad.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Should the recommendation be made that I have artificial holes created in my body for the purpose of breathing, eating, nourishment, or excreting waste of any kind, I summarily refuse it. This includes tracheostomy, tracheotomy, cricothyrotomy, colostomy, nephrostomy, ileostomy, suprapubic catheter, PEG tube or any other ostomy.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Should the time ever come when I cannot clean my own anus under my own power, all medicines I am receiving are to be stopped, all nourishment is to be halted, and all hydration, oral or intravascular, is to be ceased. I will either get better or die; either is preferable to me.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Under no circumstances am I ever to be placed in a nursing home, skilled nursing facility, long-term care facility, or any other place of similar ilk. Allow me the dignity of dying in my own home or that of my loved ones. </div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Should the circumstances of my death be attributable to stupidity of my own causing, feel free to laugh and poke fun at my corpse. I would have loved the joke, too. But do not subject me to any of the situations I have outlined above. Thank you.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Sean Fitzmorris</div><div class="p1">7 December 2010</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-16674248032794007622010-11-23T07:44:00.000-08:002010-11-23T08:06:58.747-08:00The Onus<div class="p1"></div><div class="p1"><b>The Onus</b></div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">When you come to the hospital or call an ambulance, <i>you</i> are expected to be the main agent in directing your own healthcare. You have the right to decide what you are willing to undergo toward your own care. You are encouraged to ask questions about what the staff is doing or planning to do, possible outcomes, side effects and alternatives. Every invasive procedure requires your informed consent, whether it is a lumbar puncture, surgery, a colonoscopy, a central IV line or anything that is beyond minimally invasive. At any time, you may decide that you do not want this or that. You can refuse any medication, any procedure or any tube that is inserted into your body. You may even leave the hospital whenever you want. The refusal of any aspect of your care that the healthcare providers deem necessary is accompanied by the possible consequences of your refusal. If you don’t want to go to the hospital after a car accident, the paramedics will explain why you should go and advise you that if you do not, you could suffer long-term injuries, paralysis or even death. If you still choose not to go, they will respect your wishes and have you sign a form stating this, despite the possible untoward outcomes. The same goes at the hospital. You could be in the process of actually dying, but if you don’t want the care that is offered, the doctor will say “You realize that you could/will die without this lifesaving treatment, don’t you?” After your affirmation of this, you will be allowed to leave and die in whatever way the Grim Reaper finds you. </div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">There are obvious problems with this mentality, both on the part of the patients and that of the healthcare providers. Allow me to focus on the latter for a moment. As a healthcare professional (in the state of Louisiana, at least), when someone decides that they don’t want this or that type of care, you are required by law to respect their wishes, no matter how deleterious their refusal may be. UNLESS they tried to commit suicide. Or unless some third party says they "think" the patient might have maybe sort of tried to commit suicide or otherwise harm themselves. At that point the patient is committed under a Physician’s Emergency Commitment, or PEC. A PEC remains in force for 72 hours during which the patient is a ward of the hospital until a psychiatrist releases them from it. As one doctor recently explained to a patient who balked at a PEC, “you have no rights and cannot make any decisions for yourself because you’re a danger to yourself. You are a ward of the hospital for the next 72 hours.”</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Now, the clear problem I have with this idea is this: people can decide for themselves what they can accept as “healthcare.” Even if <i>not</i> choosing a particular route will cause them to die. The doctors and nurses and paramedics must allow every patient who wants to do so to refuse care and die. The healthcare providers may view the patient’s refusal as suicide, but must nonetheless respect their wishes as long as they are informed of the consequences. Why is this not the case with someone who came in for a self-inflicted overdose or slashed wrists? Why can they not refuse care despite the obvious deleterious effects such a refusal can encompass? The congestive heart failure patient can leave the hospital after informing the staff that he is going to never take his meds, load up on pure sodium and pig out on the highest-fat food he can find and wash it down with gallons of alcohol and the hospital staff will happily wave good-bye to him as he shuffles on his swollen feet out the door. But if a perfectly healthy person wants to leave the ER after an ill-considered attention-getting gesture like scratching their wrist with a butter knife or taking an extra Ambien or Vicodin, that person is PEC’d, restrained and kept there against their will for days. Why the double standard, medical people? How is the CHF person<i> not</i> a danger to themselves or "gravely disabled," (as the PEC paperwork states is a condition of needing to be PEC'd)? I know that the horrible, black-magic “L” word is key here (liability). But if the refusal paperwork that the CHF patient signs is good enough to cover your asses when their cyanotic, swollen body is found buried under a mountain of fried chicken bones and bottles of Olde English 800, why isn’t it good enough for the person who wants to leave the hospital or ambulance after their silly little stunt? How is it that <i>that</i> person can’t direct their own healthcare, regardless of the possible deleterious outcomes?</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Before you black-wearing, pill-popping, self-cutter emo people start cheering, though, allow me to direct a little insight in your general (though not specific) direction. People call the ambulance all the time for whatever problem they have. They show up at the ER all the time, again for whatever problem they have. Many are admitted to the hospital for said problems. Then after calling the ambulance or landing in an ER room or finding themselves in their hospital bed, they decide that they don’t want this or that thing. “Don’t stick me with a needle again!” “I don’t want those EKG wires pasted all over me!” I hate this catheter; take it out!” “I’m not going to take those pills!” they shriek. Then why on God’s green Earth did you come to the fucking hospital? If you don’t want to be in the hospital, why did you call the fucking ambulance? What the hell did you expect? Despite the recent explosions of feel-good advertising that hospitals have embraced over the last decade or two, being in the hospital sucks. It’s an unpleasant experience, fraught with frequent tests, poking, tubes & wires, questions, assessments and yes, needles (or worse). Being carted there in the ambulance is at least as unpleasant, with a rough ride, countless questions, no bathroom, no food or drink and yes, needles (or worse). The medical experience is not fluffy bunnies, warm blankets and bedtime stories. Did you think it was? If you have the many years of medical experience and education to make meaningful decisions about your care, then by all means, take matters into your own hands. If you do not, then shut up and the let the professionals do what <i>you asked them to do.</i> If you want to get better by the standards of Western medicine, then call 911 and go to the hospital and comply with all the stuff the paramedics & doctors & nurses tell you and do to you. If you don’t want to undergo the barrage of unpleasantness that is the hospital experience, then stay the fuck home and let nature take its course. Save everyone else the trouble and ass-pain.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Thank you. This message is brought to you by The Medical Industry, who doesn’t really give a shit about you or your problems, but are willing to deal with it as long as we get a paycheck.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-41666054159107177112010-11-03T18:21:00.000-07:002010-11-03T18:21:34.223-07:00My Kharma Greeting CardFeel free to copy & send to whomever is deserving!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqPdQ0HsK5H4trajF45mXo1RlQjsGvajxukcioWKkGRaQ8DHHkqKZgSPyEBSPKaFrFmk7SnWLrkeS-CHPpzOFdsMOADYZAg80gFldBBiAKe7jMvLEZwu5pRgwiOqMmBYNJCTZJVy4xNTQ/s1600/Picture+11.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqPdQ0HsK5H4trajF45mXo1RlQjsGvajxukcioWKkGRaQ8DHHkqKZgSPyEBSPKaFrFmk7SnWLrkeS-CHPpzOFdsMOADYZAg80gFldBBiAKe7jMvLEZwu5pRgwiOqMmBYNJCTZJVy4xNTQ/s400/Picture+11.png" width="400" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-45011170201795458952010-10-12T08:54:00.000-07:002010-10-13T00:49:23.778-07:00Assorted Memories (Involving Food)<div class="p1">Assorted Memories (Involving Food)</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Around age 12, I poured rice down the sink for some reason. My parents are upset because there’s no garbage disposal. I suggest running water down the sink. They say that water doesn’t dissolve rice. They are stumped & irritated when I say, “Then why is water called the ‘universal solvent’?”</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m 7. We’re at a restaurant with my uncle, aunt and cousins and my family. We place our order. An eternity and a half later, we still have no food. My dad inquires about our order. It turns out that our waiter has quit his job. He quit right after taking our order. I feel a little guilty because it’s hard to imagine that it wasn’t us who pushed him over the edge.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">My grandparents take me out to brunch one Sunday at their favorite restaurant. The restaurant also happens to be where I work as a busboy at my first job, so I know all the staff there. Typical of a 14 year-old, I'm a little embarrassed to be seen out with my grandparents. It’s weird having my coworkers serve me. To make it even weirder, my grandfather throws up all over the table after brunch. </div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">At age 25, I’m working as a waiter in a restaurant while I’m attending EMT school. I’m not very good at it. One of my tables is a single diner, an Asian woman. I try to keep all my other tables going and totally forget about this woman, and I leave her with a dirty plate in front of her for about 45 minutes. I apologize and bring her the check. She still leaves me a decent tip, and I’m fascinated that she signed her name on her credit card slip in Chinese characters. I show her signature to all the other waiters. They don’t care.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m in New York City for a vacation about 6 years ago. In Greenwich Village, I pass Anthony Bourdain hailing a cab. I’ve just read his book. I don’t say anything, but nod to him in such a way that I hope it conveys “Dude, you’re my favorite chef/author/TV host ever. Thanks for being awesome.”</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">On my wedding honeymoon, my new bride wants to impress me with her cooking. She makes what she calls a strawberry cheesecake. Instead of topping the cheesecake with strawberry stuff, she’s mixed a pack of strawberry Jello into the cheesecake filling. It is the color of Pepto-Bismol with radiation poisoning. I call it Plutonium Pink. She comments on the spaghetti and meatballs that I made; that she’s never had a meatball the size of a grapefruit. Touché.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Ten years ago, my mother-in-law served me a dish that she refused to name. It was some kind of meat pie, with two kinds of meat. She asked if I like it. I said I did, especially these bits of meat, which I point out. She says it is steak and kidney pie, and the meat I particularly like is kidney. Until then, organ meat grossed me out. I ask for seconds. </div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">In Greece, my friend Mike and I sit down in a restaurant. It’s difficult reading Greek, so instead of trying to translate the menu, we ask the waiter to bring us something local, that he might like. We expect some souvlaki or lamb or grape leaves. Instead he brings us a huge platter with a large cooked octopus in some sort of spicy red sauce. It is delicious. We eat all of it.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">When we were little, my sister Erin used to put A-1 steak sauce on everything. I watched her pour A-1 onto celery sticks and eat them. I tried it. It tasted like A-1 on celery.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Somehow, my wife and I start discussing pickles. I say something about the cucumbers that are made into pickles. She refuses to believe that pickles are made from cucumbers. I am bewildered that she doesn’t know this basic fact and sarcastically ask, “Where did you think they come from? The pickle bush?” She still refuses to believe me. Later at the grocery I point out to her the ingredient list on a jar of pickles. That was a bad idea.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-4104252225363735432010-09-30T06:24:00.000-07:002010-09-30T06:40:14.338-07:00Councilman Stokes Is an Explosion In an Idiot Factory<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Someone on Twitter, <a href="http://twitter.com/RobRiscoe">@RobRiscoe</a>, asked my opinion on this fiasco:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The incident occurred in Jackson, Mississippi and there's been considerable hullabaloo in the EMS community regarding it. Normally I don't voice my opinion on things where the answer is as clear as this situation. But since I was asked...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">As you can tell by the title of this article, Councilman Stokes has proved to the world that he knows absolutely nothing about the subject on which he has chosen to pontificate in hilarious ignorance.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"You got to take risks; you can't let citizens die!" In a backwards way, he is correct. The shooter and victim took their risks in whatever behavior preceded the shooting. The EMT's try not to let citizens die. But Councilman Stokes, I must ask you, had the EMT's arrived on an unsafe scene and gotten themselves shot and killed, then wouldn't there be two more citizens dead besides the first victim? We can continue this formula - then two more EMT's show up and get shot, and so on - until all the EMT's in the city are dead. You see, going into that scene and 'taking risks' might not be the best policy.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">As every EMT is aware, even scenes that are declared "safe" often remain very unstable and can go downhill to "extremely unsafe" in a heartbeat.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">(Should we tell Councilman Stokes about what we do when <i>that</i> happens? Actually <i>leave</i> the scene?)</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">One of the solutions for this "problem" that Stokes has proposed is having the city go into the ambulance business themselves, rather than contracting with AMR. That's fine. No offense to AMR, but certainly few would have a problem with there actually being more ambulances in the city. Tell us, Mr. Stokes, where will you find the EMT's to staff your city ambulances? No doubt you wouldn't want those wimps from AMR to come over and work for you, with all their insistence on "scene safety" or whatever they call it.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Councilman, I have news for you. Your "problem" isn't with AMR. Every EMT in this country, to be certified as an EMT, has to go through an EMT course approved by the nation's Department of Transportation. And in <i><u>every single one</u></i> of those classes, the first lesson on day 1 is "Scene Safety." During that class, it is ingrained into the brains of every prospective EMT that <b>you do NOT go into scenes that are not safe! If the scene becomes unsafe, leave!</b> Every practical exercise that the EMT's will perform during class must include the question "Is my scene safe?" If they do not ask that question and determine scene safety, then no matter how magnificently they perform the practical exercise, they will fail. Every day from day one, scene safety will be burned into their brain.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">That, Councilman Stokes, is the culture of the pool of EMT's from which you have to staff your nascent city ambulance service.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Perhaps Councilman Stokes would prefer if the class would go something like this: "Hello and welcome to EMT class. The first thing you should know is if you are called to a scene where gunshots are still going off or cars are still colliding with each other or gangs are stabbing each other all over the place, don't worry, just go right ahead in. Everything will be fine and unicorns and rainbows will sprout from your footsteps."</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Really, Councilman Stokes? Would you actually <i>want</i> EMT's who were schooled to take such risks? If they are willing to "take risks" with their own personal safety, then what kind of risks will they take with the care they deliver to their patients? When you're in the back of that ambulance one day, maybe when the medic pulls out some big scary tube or needle to put into your body, will you want the EMT's to say "I've never done this procedure before, but I'm willing to take the risk!" Or maybe "You don't have to sterilize the site where you're going to stick in that needle/tube/scary device. It's a risk that he may die from a horrible infection, but we're willing to take it!"</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">As a casual aside, according to the news video, which I trust more than the "facts" of either Councilman Stokes' or the outraged mother-in-law of the victim, I notice that AMR is accused of taking 21 minutes to arrive at the patient. But then later in the video, the dispatch, en route, arrival and at-patient times add up to only 7 minutes and 25 seconds. This is well under the national average of 9 minutes. Did Stokes even bother to actually investigate the details of the call? Or is he just taking the word of some emotional, angry woman off the street?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Councilman Stokes, you are a fucking idiot.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-74115705855049093892010-09-29T17:48:00.000-07:002010-09-29T17:48:15.136-07:00History According To The 64 Crayola Box<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;">All the "Flesh" in my box forced the "Indian Red" into a tiny corner. Then a bunch of "Brown" immigrated from another box, causing the "White" to create an uproar. They pleaded with the leader crayon, "Gray" to do something, but he was only worried about the "Pink" in the crayon military. Meantime, due to tax increases & healthcare reform, "Green" virtually disappeared from the box.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-81341483609254825152010-09-25T16:36:00.000-07:002010-09-25T16:36:13.621-07:00"Found Wanting" now available for everyone!<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Just wanted to announce the release of my book, "Found Wanting." If you've seen my Facebook profile, you know I've been yammering about various problems with its release. Well, finally, it's out now! It hasn't yet hit retailers like Amazon and the iPad app store, but it's available already! You can get it from the wholesale publishers (for a LOT cheaper than my original publisher!).</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">If you'd like the print version, a real, actual book, then click this link: <a href="http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/found-wanting/12812792">http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/found-wanting/12812792</a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Just click Add to Cart and checkout like any purchase!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">If you'd like to download "Found Wanting" to your mobile device like iPhone, iPad, Kindle, Nook, Kobo, Stanza or other device, then click this link from your mobile device: <a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/25111">http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/25111</a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">You have to register (it's free) and select which format you want. Don't panic! Pretty much any device will read the .Epub format. If you have a Kindle, you can download the .Mobi file. You can also read a free preview of the book! Just remember to go back and purchase the full copy!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"Found Wanting" will be available via retail outlets like Amazon and the iPhone app store in 4 - 8 weeks, so get your copy now! Why wait?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Thanks to everyone, and enjoy "Found Wanting"! All the best!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">-Sean</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-40449959725803349032010-09-17T07:37:00.000-07:002010-09-17T07:51:01.304-07:00Assorted Memories - Regarding Vehicles (and Water)<div class="p1">When I was small, my grandparents would take us to the Lakefront airport, a small airport for private and charter planes. They still referred to it as Shushan Airport, its name back in the old days, like when the Wright brothers were still around. We would watch the planes take off and land. It had a big, beautiful lobby that only much later would I appreciate as being classic art deco. Sometimes military planes would be there, old WW II planes that were still in service - big, gorgeous Constellations with three tail fins or awesome DC-3’s. There were lots of seaplanes too. I was always fascinated with the metal-cast scale models of airplanes in the huge display cases in the lobby. I wanted to be a pilot.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">My mother took us to the Lakefront airport one weekend. My grandparents were out of town. She wasn’t quite sure of the way. She made a wrong turn and we found ourselves at the nearby boat launch. She made a big deal of it. She said “I almost drove into the lake!” about a zillion times. She had me thinking we had almost died.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m 12. We’re going to Pensacola to stay at the summer house of a friend of the family, Mr. Chanel. He’s French. And rich. My Dad is driving the station wagon to the beach. The bridge across the bay is very old, narrow and seems rickety. I’m scared the bridge will collapse from age. That night I have a dream which combines my memory of my Mother declaring our near-death by boat launch with the scary bridge. In my dream, we’re driving across a rickety bridge which angles down into the water. I wake up crying. The dream occasionally resurfaces even today, but I don’t cry anymore.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m 23. I have a part-time job driving a truck transporting mail at night. I drive from the main post office on Loyola Avenue to Picayune, Mississippi to meet another driver from Jackson, Mississippi. We’d swap trucks and I’d drive his mail truck back into New Orleans. My friend Mike and I share the job; he drives 3 nights a week, I drive the other three nights a week. One night Mike decides to ride with me even though it’s his night off. He wants to meet his girlfriend, Sherry. Sherry is driving back into town on the same highway from a trip. We meet Sherry. Her friend Iliana is riding with her. Mike gets into Sherry’s car and Iliana rides with me in the mail truck. Iliana is from Cuba. I’ve known Iliana for a few months and I like her. She holds my hand as I drive. </div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m 25. I live in Listowel, Co. Kerry, Ireland. My friend Mike has asked me to come with him on a tour of Europe. On the overnight ferry from Ireland to England, we are bored, so we make up a story to occupy the time. It tells of César and his friend (whose name I can’t remember) and their adventures. The story serves as a running theme for our own adventures all over Europe through the next month.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m 34. I have Eric as my permanent partner in the ambulance. He is also a paramedic, so we can swap duties - he drives one call, then I drive one call. We get along incredibly well. He is my partner at work and has also become a friend. I love going to work because we make each other’s day pleasant. Our partnership only lasts two months. I am then assigned to work with the medic that no one else can get along with. I spend several months with my new partner. I am miserable. Eventually, we start to get along. Eventually, I start to like working with my new partner. Eventually, I look forward to coming to work so I can be with my partner. Shortly thereafter, I am assigned a different partner, the latest one that no one wants to work with.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">My sister Shannon is in the hospital. She is eleven; I am exactly one year older. We both have the same birthday, a year apart. Shannon is having her tonsils taken out at Hôtel Dieu Hospital. Children are not allowed in the hospital. My parents tell me and my other sister Erin to wait in the car. We do. It’s hot. We’re there forever, it seems.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m 30. My parents have entrusted me to keep their car while they’re out of town. My wife and I leave the house; we’re going to take their car to go wherever it is we were planning on going. Their car is no longer in front of our house. It’s been stolen. I file a police report. Four days later I’m working on the ambulance with my partner Mike (not the same Mike as I mentioned). My cell phone rings. It’s the police, saying they’ve found my parents’ car after a police chase and it’s been crashed into a parked car. The driver has been taken to the hospital. Mike and I drive to the scene where I confirm it is my parents’ car. Later at the hospital, I see the punk who stole the car. He’s lying on a spineboard, strapped down. It would be so easy to kill him, or at least beat the living daylights out of him. My partner Mike sees how angry I am and physically pulls me back, away from the teenage punk.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m 16. My year-younger sister has a license to drive. I do not. I’m in no rush to get one because I don’t really care if I can drive or not. She is driving to school and will drop me off at my school. We pick up her friend Michelle who goes to Shannon’s school. “1999” by Prince comes on the radio. Shannon and Michelle sing and car-dance to Prince. I don’t particularly care for Prince, so I stare glumly out the window.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m 3. The school bus picks me up for my first day of school. Mr. Jimmy drives Bus #22. Later, he would also teach Catechism, though it wasn’t a Catholic school. I ride Bus #22 for the next ten years. Forty years later I meet the brother of one of my co-workers. He also rode Mr. Jimmy’s bus, #22, though I don’t remember him. He didn’t go to Mr. Jimmy’s Catechism class because he was Jewish.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m newly married at age 28. My wife Grainne and I are driving across the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway. We watch the ducks, seagulls and cormorants flying and floating on the lake. While driving across the 24 mile-long bridge at 60 miles an hour, she locks the electric door locks. Mystified, I ask her why. She says “You never know who’s going to rob you.” I consider the logic of her statement but can find none. I ask her, “Who do you think is going to rob us? A rogue pelican?” She turns up the radio. </div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m 10. We’re going to Pontchartrain Beach, a local roller-coaster type theme park. My sisters and I take turns chanting “Pontchar” - “train” - “Beach!” each of us taking a portion of the name, splitting the four syllables as fairly as we could between only three children. I am dying to ride the Zephyr, the biggest roller-coaster New Orleans had ever seen. In the line for the ride, I confide to my Dad that I’m scared and I don’t actually want to ride the Zephyr anymore. We quietly leave the line. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9028212149673078434.post-89498971509789507882010-09-16T09:06:00.000-07:002010-09-17T07:50:17.500-07:00Assorted Memories - Unassorted Memories<div class="p1">Unassorted memories:<br />
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</div><div class="p1">I’m 3 years old; I notice that the heavily stuccoed wall next to my bed has a plaster pattern that might be interpreted as a face. I spend the next 3 years talking to the tiny plaster face, wishing I didn’t know it would never understand what I said.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m 18. After some sporting event, possibly football, at the Superdome at which my friends Steve & Marty and I got rather drunk, I decide it would be appropriate to punch Steve in the face. Steve is 6’1”, easily 250 pounds and used to be a college linebacker not very long before. He hits me back, after carefully explaining why the recompense is at least as appropriate as my initial punch. I remember groaning on the ground shortly thereafter.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m 24. I’ve been in Ireland for a month. My flight home after my vacation is the next day. I use my new friend Henny’s phone to call my parents at home. My youngest brother Michael answers. I tell him to tell Mom & Dad that I won’t be on the flight home because I’ve decided to stay in Ireland. I remain in Ireland for a year.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m 6. My sisters Shannon and Erin and I have made a pastime of watching the new house get built next door. One day, we go to the window in our housekeeper’s bedroom to watch the heavy machinery do its thing. We eat ice cream. Shannon has chocolate. I have chocolate and vanilla. I discover the “swirl,” when your ice cream is just soft enough to swirl the flavors together, resulting in a delicious combination of breathtaking flavors (although it is a disgusting shade of brownish poop color, as Erin points out).</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m in first grade. I’ve read a book called “Molecules” three times. I have questions about nuclear physics. I ask Ms. Surgi, my first-grade teacher about the cohesive properties of atoms, protons, neutrons & electrons. She is stumped.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m 39. My friend Greg and I are at a bar. I’ve recently moved out from the house my wife and I have shared for many years. We take turns discussing our “women problems.” After a few minutes, I literally cry into my beer for half an hour. </div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m 21. Still living with my parents, I’m walking through my brothers’ bedroom to get to my own bedroom, actually the garage that’s been turned into a garconniere. I ask my brother Patrick a casual question, to which he lies about the answer. I’m incensed that he lied. I recall my parents’ admonishment, “Don’t hit your brother! Don’t hit anyone unless they're your own size!” It occurs to me that Patrick, aged 17, is easily my size, perhaps even a bit bigger. I allow my anger to get the best of me and slug him several times. He gets a black eye, swollen and barely able to open it. The next day, my Dad has a photo shoot with a local magazine, as he’s running for public office. The photographer takes several pictures of our happy family. The photograph that appears in the magazine pictures my brother with one eye open, the other swollen shut. I’m smiling.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">Speaking of photographs, there are very few family pictures in which I am not standing on my tippy-toes, to appear taller than everyone else.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m 26. I’ve just gotten back from a contract job in which I maintain aquariums through Bobby’s pet shop, where I work. Dr. McSwain calls Bobby, whose office aquariums I’ve maintained for a year. He’s complaining that ‘his fish are dying.’ Too embarrassed to go back, I ask my co-worker, Chip, to go to his office to check out the mysterious fish deaths. He returns later, and explains that I forgot to hook up an air tube that oxygenates the water in the aquarium. Two hundred dollars worth of tropical saltwater fish have died (this is about three actual fish; Dr. McSwain has a generous aquarium budget). I am too embarrassed to go back; I ask Chip to take over the account. Bobby never deducts the losses from my salary.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">It’s my fortieth birthday. I’m in Anaheim, California, living as a refugee after Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. I rejoice that I’m two thousand miles away from anyone that would have a “Lordy, Lordy, Look Who’s Forty” birthday party for me.</div><div class="p2"><br />
</div><div class="p1">I’m one year old. It’s my birthday. I don’t understand the importance of the one-piece jumper my aunt has given me as a birthday present. I try to escape the festivities the adults are enjoying but the three steps up to the kitchen are too high for me to climb. I learn their drink preferences by overhearing their requests from my Dad, who rarely drinks, but is the party bartender. I don’t know what a “Martini” is yet. An “Old-Fashioned” mystifies me; at a year old, my idea of old-fashioned is last week’s stuff. The thought of a drink “on the rocks” will perplex me until my speech patterns are fixed enough to ask about it years later. Eventually I make it outside, where Maria, the girl next door, plays with me in my round strolly-walker thing.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0