Those of us who are not royal are known as commoners, a slang term for the common people, the ones without titles, without lands, without wealth, without all things regal. The concept was part of a popular commercial film several years ago based on the precept from a royal princess that the King of Denmark could not find happiness with a mere "common." 'Tis better to have a comfortable marriage without real love/passion with a person of one's station in life than it is to have a passionate marriage between a royal and a "common" who can never truly understand the depth of the royal lifestyle. Royals understand without being told, while commons can never understand no matter how often they are told.
The same theme emerges from the riveting Academy-nominated film, The King's Speech, when Bertie seeks professional help for his stammer, but feels violently betrayed when he is told that his speech therapist is a common man. Bertie does not take into account that it was his assumption that Lionel is a doctor, not that Lionel ever professed to be anything other than who he is. Although Lionel's treatment of the King's stammer is effective, the intimacy Bertie shares with a common tears their relationship asunder.
There are always deeply-seated reasons for who we are, what we believe, and how we live our lives. Sometimes, it is the little things that make a huge pile of self-doubt, and other times, it is one event, one person, one time in our lives that covers our world with a dense layer of concrete that no one can ever penetrate. For the King, it is his very existence as a royal that undermines his life and manifests as a stammer. Add to that an overly-critical father, a demanding, remote, affectionless mother, and a brother whose lifestyle is both envied and dismayed as he approaches his destiny as the next King of England. Bertie is the solid one, the planner and plodder, but the one for whom confrontation is anathema. His stammer lessens in a comforting environment and escalates in a threatening environment, and there is no environment more threatening than being crowned King of England when that is the last station in life that the individual wants to achieve.
The film is absolutely incredible: it feels real because the actors don't portray their characters, but are the characters. The anguish of the King is juxtaposed with the calm strength of the common man who keeps his confidence, as well as builds it. Many times, in the midst of deep, important scenes on the screen, the well-timed laugh loosens up both the King and the audience so the story can continue. When the King breaks through his royal reserve and inserts "fuckfuckfuck" into his speech to stop his stammer, it relieves not just his tension about the next word to come out of his mouth, but the audiences' tension for him to get past the word, as well as the stammer. The audience wants the stammer to be conquered so the man can become the King the people need him to be, not a King whose every word is an elocution contest.
Colin Firth and Geoffrey Rush shine in this film because they are actors, not stars. Actors portray characters; stars portray themselves with a variety of character names in a variety of films. (I am tired of watching films wherein "upstarts" are given "starring" roles because they draw great "box office." Translation: put in a name the younger crowd will recognize so this dog earns enough revenue to pay the bills, commercialism at its worst.) Firth and Rush shine in a film that is gritty, that is real, that is important on levels that are important to the audience. Imagine a film without sex, without violence, without commercialism -- and what you see is an important film, a film with a message for even the most common viewer. The supporting cast creates the dichotomy between a common man who is born royal, and a scene after Bertie's confirmation as the new King drives the message home as his two young daughters meet him the hallway with a curtsey and address him as "Your Majesty." The King is no longer just "father" to the girls, but King to all his subjects, including his own intimate family.
It makes me a bit sad to realize that I sent my young guest to see Tyler Perry's latest film, which I knew she'd enjoy because it's much easier, while I sat in a theatre filled with my peers, all of whom experienced an uncommonly great film. Because there is no way to put an old head onto young shoulders, I'm sure I made the right decision this time, but I long for the days when movie-goers are less common and more regal in their box office decisions, especially while making the decision to go for the cheap laugh or engage in the experience.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Friday, February 18, 2011
Redundancy
Is redundancy another world for inefficiency? Honest to pete, this past week has been a run-around to top all runs-around because people simply DO NOT LISTEN. Here's the process:
I went to the ortho surgeon who redid my right knee surgery as I completed physical therapy and needed to be released from care, perhaps more so the insurance companies can pay the bills than for any other reason. Our post-surgery/post-therapy conference included an in-depth conversation about my left hip/back, the area I hurt when I fell late at night Dec 15 and ended up in the ER in the wee hours of Dec 16. The knee surgeon explained that we can only deal with one procedure at a time, but now that the knee seems to be healing nicely, it's time for the referral for the back/hip surgeon.
Yippee was MY reaction: my back, although much better than it was, is not good. Sometimes, I can stand; mostly, I can sit; seldom can I sleep through the night because I cannot find a comfortable position that allows both the pain in my right knee and the pain in my left hip/back area to calm enough to allow uninterrupted sleep. The knee ortho told me that the back ortho would contact me to set up the appointment, and I received the call from Esther the first of this week. She asked a few questions and included a request for the bone x-rays from the fall that resulted in the trip to the ER before the new doc would decide whether to take me on as a new patient.
I explained to her that the fall resulted in a trip to the ER at JFK at the east end of the Valley. I told her that the bone ex-rays did NOT show a fracture, but the ER doc did not order an MRI. I added that I had knee surgery at JFK the following Tues (the trip to the ER was in the wee hours of the previous TH) and asked if she needed either those films or a written report.
No, she responded. All she required was the ER doctor's report of the bone x-rays done at JFK in the wee hours of Dec 16, but I should also pick up the bone x-rays and bring them with me if/when the doctor decided that he would take me on as a new patient.
Not a problem, I told Esther, and I made the phone call to the knee surgeon's office after I finished the call with Esther. I asked for the nurse, explained that although I had knee surgery Dec 22 with the knee doctor, I had bone x-rays at JFK the week prior -- and my knee doctor had both the bone x-rays and the written report from the attending ER doctor. I requested that the written report be faxed to the referral back/hip doctor, and said I would drive to the east Valley area to pick up the bone x-rays when they were ready for me to do so. She confirmed by repeating to me that she exactly understood what I needed and did, indeed, fax the written report to the referral doctor.
The written report for the knee surgery, NOT the written report from the ER doctor re: my injury to my left back/hip area.
Okay, so it's already screwed up, but then it got tricky. The knee doc's nurse called to confirm that she had faxed the ER doc's report to the back/hip doc, but she had the bone ex-rays at the office and I would have to pick them up from her. No, I contradicted her, you faxed the report of the KNEE surgery to the back doc, not the report from the ER visit re: my back/hip. This conversation was followed by a reminder that the back doc needs a copy of the ER doc's written report re: the bone x-rays of my left back/hip area, as well as the films at my first appointment, scheduled for the first week in March. This was followed by a recorded phone call from the knee doctor's staff the next day that the films I requested were available at the doc's office -- which is a 50-mile-round trip for me that I made yesterday to pick up said films.
I called to confirm that these are the bone x-rays from JFK of my left back/hip area, NOT the surgery films from my knee surgery at the same facility a week later. Yep, they assured me, they have what I requested, so come on down. No one in the knee doc's office could find the films when I asked for them, but spent almost half an hour looking for them. Finally, one of the office staff took my phone number and said that someone would call me Friday to clarify where the films are so I can fetch them.
That call came this morning: there are no films because ... I told the nurse that I needed the written report/films from the KNEE surgery performed at a different hospital in a different community, a conversation we never shared about a surgery that never happened at a facility in another locale. Because this was not the nurse with whom I originally had the conversation, I clarified that I did NOT have had that conversation. I then explained, again, that what I need to pick up from either her or the nearby hospital is the x-ray series of my back/hip taken in the wee hours of Dec 16, 2010. After putting me on hold, she came back on-line to tell me that she cannot find a record of my back surgery on that date at that facility.
After counting to 10, I asked a different question: will you please tell me where to pick up copies of x-rays taken on Dec 16 at the ER at JFK? Her response: I'm not sure what you are asking me; did you have surgery at that facility on that date? No, I replied, I did not -- I was in the ER for another reason and need a copy of the x-rays taken at that time.
The bottom line is that she's going to request those films from that facility under my name taken on that date -- and I can pick them up Monday. I completely avoided telling her that I absolutely do NOT want/need the films taken during my knee surgery the following week, so maybe, just maybe, I will arrive at JFK next Monday and pick up what I need for appointment with the back surgeon. If I don't get the back/hip x-rays, perhaps I can order the x-rays I've been trying to get for the past week by dealing with the radiology department directly -- myself.
I went to the ortho surgeon who redid my right knee surgery as I completed physical therapy and needed to be released from care, perhaps more so the insurance companies can pay the bills than for any other reason. Our post-surgery/post-therapy conference included an in-depth conversation about my left hip/back, the area I hurt when I fell late at night Dec 15 and ended up in the ER in the wee hours of Dec 16. The knee surgeon explained that we can only deal with one procedure at a time, but now that the knee seems to be healing nicely, it's time for the referral for the back/hip surgeon.
Yippee was MY reaction: my back, although much better than it was, is not good. Sometimes, I can stand; mostly, I can sit; seldom can I sleep through the night because I cannot find a comfortable position that allows both the pain in my right knee and the pain in my left hip/back area to calm enough to allow uninterrupted sleep. The knee ortho told me that the back ortho would contact me to set up the appointment, and I received the call from Esther the first of this week. She asked a few questions and included a request for the bone x-rays from the fall that resulted in the trip to the ER before the new doc would decide whether to take me on as a new patient.
I explained to her that the fall resulted in a trip to the ER at JFK at the east end of the Valley. I told her that the bone ex-rays did NOT show a fracture, but the ER doc did not order an MRI. I added that I had knee surgery at JFK the following Tues (the trip to the ER was in the wee hours of the previous TH) and asked if she needed either those films or a written report.
No, she responded. All she required was the ER doctor's report of the bone x-rays done at JFK in the wee hours of Dec 16, but I should also pick up the bone x-rays and bring them with me if/when the doctor decided that he would take me on as a new patient.
Not a problem, I told Esther, and I made the phone call to the knee surgeon's office after I finished the call with Esther. I asked for the nurse, explained that although I had knee surgery Dec 22 with the knee doctor, I had bone x-rays at JFK the week prior -- and my knee doctor had both the bone x-rays and the written report from the attending ER doctor. I requested that the written report be faxed to the referral back/hip doctor, and said I would drive to the east Valley area to pick up the bone x-rays when they were ready for me to do so. She confirmed by repeating to me that she exactly understood what I needed and did, indeed, fax the written report to the referral doctor.
The written report for the knee surgery, NOT the written report from the ER doctor re: my injury to my left back/hip area.
Okay, so it's already screwed up, but then it got tricky. The knee doc's nurse called to confirm that she had faxed the ER doc's report to the back/hip doc, but she had the bone ex-rays at the office and I would have to pick them up from her. No, I contradicted her, you faxed the report of the KNEE surgery to the back doc, not the report from the ER visit re: my back/hip. This conversation was followed by a reminder that the back doc needs a copy of the ER doc's written report re: the bone x-rays of my left back/hip area, as well as the films at my first appointment, scheduled for the first week in March. This was followed by a recorded phone call from the knee doctor's staff the next day that the films I requested were available at the doc's office -- which is a 50-mile-round trip for me that I made yesterday to pick up said films.
I called to confirm that these are the bone x-rays from JFK of my left back/hip area, NOT the surgery films from my knee surgery at the same facility a week later. Yep, they assured me, they have what I requested, so come on down. No one in the knee doc's office could find the films when I asked for them, but spent almost half an hour looking for them. Finally, one of the office staff took my phone number and said that someone would call me Friday to clarify where the films are so I can fetch them.
That call came this morning: there are no films because ... I told the nurse that I needed the written report/films from the KNEE surgery performed at a different hospital in a different community, a conversation we never shared about a surgery that never happened at a facility in another locale. Because this was not the nurse with whom I originally had the conversation, I clarified that I did NOT have had that conversation. I then explained, again, that what I need to pick up from either her or the nearby hospital is the x-ray series of my back/hip taken in the wee hours of Dec 16, 2010. After putting me on hold, she came back on-line to tell me that she cannot find a record of my back surgery on that date at that facility.
After counting to 10, I asked a different question: will you please tell me where to pick up copies of x-rays taken on Dec 16 at the ER at JFK? Her response: I'm not sure what you are asking me; did you have surgery at that facility on that date? No, I replied, I did not -- I was in the ER for another reason and need a copy of the x-rays taken at that time.
The bottom line is that she's going to request those films from that facility under my name taken on that date -- and I can pick them up Monday. I completely avoided telling her that I absolutely do NOT want/need the films taken during my knee surgery the following week, so maybe, just maybe, I will arrive at JFK next Monday and pick up what I need for appointment with the back surgeon. If I don't get the back/hip x-rays, perhaps I can order the x-rays I've been trying to get for the past week by dealing with the radiology department directly -- myself.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
A Teachable Moment
A young female teacher is on administrative leave in Pennsylvania for blogging about education. She has not identified her school site nor specific students, but has captured the frustration of dealing with today’s teens in a frank manner often portrayed publicly on talk TV, radio programs, as well as in print media, and discussed daily in the staff lounge. I doubt that many adults disagree that today’s youth are out of control, arrogant, poorly motivated, mouthy, and disrespectful of adult direction, a frustration expressed centuries ago by Sophocles, whose ancient Greek students also ran amok. Hence, the plethora of talk shows, such as Dr. Phil, Dr. Laura, The View, Regis and Kelly, as well as the comedians, including Conan, Letterman, Leno, Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, SNL, all finding adequate fodder for filling their airtime by discussing today's youth and challenging adults to find a way to turn the trend around before it's too late.
Consider an adult engaged in a career/activity that deals with young people, such as law enforcement, educators, psychologists, social workers, counselors, employers, parents, friends, coaches, neighbors, business owners -– and you will probably discover the list of adults who share this educator’s perspective is long. Will all who express a similar opinion about today’s youth also jeopardize their jobs? Who better than educators, whose sole profession is to be locked inside a room with a random assortment of various ages, nationalities, languages, faiths, political viewpoints, family values, educational backgrounds, and electronic devices, to sound the alarm about the failure of students to engage in the educational process? Teachers seldom have a classroom assistant, nor a security officer, but have to contain, and then attempt to teach, as many as 40+ bundles of raging teenage hormones with the constant threat of negative parental/public/political reaction to the performance of their professional duties.
Why is a teacher relieved of duty for simply confirming what is already not just well-known, but supported by professionals other than educators? Have we gone so far that no one can express either an opinion or a frustration without being taken to the woodshed? Perhaps that is what the children want: if I make enough noise, I take the onus off my bad behavior and put the teacher on the hot seat to explain him/herself. After all, if it works at home, it'll work in the classroom.
Why rail at children's behavior when parents are responsible for teaching their children not just how to act at home, but in public venues that include a classroom? Recently, Dr. Laura talked to a young mother (on SAT radio), a mother who bemoaned the fact that her 3-year-old daughter won't do anything she's told to do and throws a temper-tantrum if anyone tries to make her either do or not do something. The mother confessed that she has started bribing her 3-year-old to comply with reasonable requests, such as "put on your jammies and get ready for bedtime." Dr. Laura pointed out that the child has all the power in the family dynamic, and, if the parents don't regain control over the child, that child will continue to dictate to the parents what she will/will not do -- and find many other demands to make as she holds her parents hostage to her temper tantrums.
The difference between that 3-year-old tyrant and a high school student is about 12 years of honing the tyranny.
Unfortunately, students have become more empowered to be more disrespectful in today’s society because that is the role model provided for them not just in their own homes, but in the media, including the instant internet sensationalization of what used to be called one's private life in TV "reality" shows, such as The Kardashians, a family that has no boundary between appropriate and inappropriate private/public behavior. Watch some “teen TV,” or listen to the lyrics of "teen music" while watching a music video on MTV, or check out your child's Facebook/ MySpace page, and judge for yourself the role models available for today's young people. Teens hardly blink at the nudity, the profanity, or the sexual activity portrayed in the media because their demographic programming, such as The Kardashians, depends on drama, drugs/alcohol, and sex to stay on the air. After all, it’s what their parents are watching, too, only with a nicer program title: Two and a Half Men is not funny, it’s filth, and its star, Charlie Sheen, carries the role into his personal life, whoring, drinking, drugging, and disrespecting every family institution that used to be valued in this country--and the audience laughs hilariously at his "antics," while upping his salary to become the highest paid actor in a TV sitcom. Bachelors and Bachelorettes construct intimate relationships on public TV with what begins as a group of 2 dozen complete strangers, but is narrowed down to the "perfect" mate by booze, raunchy sex, manipulation, deceit, and really high TV ratings.
We live what we learn; what society teaches young people is that there are few boundaries because there are few consequences. If we want to hold children accountable for their behavior, we have to admit that the adults are accountable first for it. I know few parents who are willing to accept that their children live what they learn at home, and practice it both in public and in the public classroom.
I hope that the teacher union stands up for this blogger and supports her right to express herself freely, to ask difficult questions and to lament the challenging situations that are so much a part of today’s classroom. Students know what’s going on because they are the ones behaving badly; however, it’s a rare event for a student to return home at the end of the day and admit to a parent that s/he was badly behaved, cussed out a teacher, left campus, and spent the rest of the day hanging out with friends off-campus. Far too often, the student doesn’t see anything wrong with so doing because it was "all the teacher's fault," and, regretably, the parent falls into the same faulty reasoning. However, when the parent supports the child by blaming the school and/or attacking the teacher, the student adds yet another skill set to their toolbox for avoiding responsibility for their actions.
And, if the student is really on his/her game, someone in the classroom caught the bad behavior on a cellphone and posted it to You Tube, adding to the "you are there" viral video power base of children behaving badly -- and the instant world-wide fame -- to prove it.
Consider an adult engaged in a career/activity that deals with young people, such as law enforcement, educators, psychologists, social workers, counselors, employers, parents, friends, coaches, neighbors, business owners -– and you will probably discover the list of adults who share this educator’s perspective is long. Will all who express a similar opinion about today’s youth also jeopardize their jobs? Who better than educators, whose sole profession is to be locked inside a room with a random assortment of various ages, nationalities, languages, faiths, political viewpoints, family values, educational backgrounds, and electronic devices, to sound the alarm about the failure of students to engage in the educational process? Teachers seldom have a classroom assistant, nor a security officer, but have to contain, and then attempt to teach, as many as 40+ bundles of raging teenage hormones with the constant threat of negative parental/public/political reaction to the performance of their professional duties.
Why is a teacher relieved of duty for simply confirming what is already not just well-known, but supported by professionals other than educators? Have we gone so far that no one can express either an opinion or a frustration without being taken to the woodshed? Perhaps that is what the children want: if I make enough noise, I take the onus off my bad behavior and put the teacher on the hot seat to explain him/herself. After all, if it works at home, it'll work in the classroom.
Why rail at children's behavior when parents are responsible for teaching their children not just how to act at home, but in public venues that include a classroom? Recently, Dr. Laura talked to a young mother (on SAT radio), a mother who bemoaned the fact that her 3-year-old daughter won't do anything she's told to do and throws a temper-tantrum if anyone tries to make her either do or not do something. The mother confessed that she has started bribing her 3-year-old to comply with reasonable requests, such as "put on your jammies and get ready for bedtime." Dr. Laura pointed out that the child has all the power in the family dynamic, and, if the parents don't regain control over the child, that child will continue to dictate to the parents what she will/will not do -- and find many other demands to make as she holds her parents hostage to her temper tantrums.
The difference between that 3-year-old tyrant and a high school student is about 12 years of honing the tyranny.
Unfortunately, students have become more empowered to be more disrespectful in today’s society because that is the role model provided for them not just in their own homes, but in the media, including the instant internet sensationalization of what used to be called one's private life in TV "reality" shows, such as The Kardashians, a family that has no boundary between appropriate and inappropriate private/public behavior. Watch some “teen TV,” or listen to the lyrics of "teen music" while watching a music video on MTV, or check out your child's Facebook/ MySpace page, and judge for yourself the role models available for today's young people. Teens hardly blink at the nudity, the profanity, or the sexual activity portrayed in the media because their demographic programming, such as The Kardashians, depends on drama, drugs/alcohol, and sex to stay on the air. After all, it’s what their parents are watching, too, only with a nicer program title: Two and a Half Men is not funny, it’s filth, and its star, Charlie Sheen, carries the role into his personal life, whoring, drinking, drugging, and disrespecting every family institution that used to be valued in this country--and the audience laughs hilariously at his "antics," while upping his salary to become the highest paid actor in a TV sitcom. Bachelors and Bachelorettes construct intimate relationships on public TV with what begins as a group of 2 dozen complete strangers, but is narrowed down to the "perfect" mate by booze, raunchy sex, manipulation, deceit, and really high TV ratings.
We live what we learn; what society teaches young people is that there are few boundaries because there are few consequences. If we want to hold children accountable for their behavior, we have to admit that the adults are accountable first for it. I know few parents who are willing to accept that their children live what they learn at home, and practice it both in public and in the public classroom.
I hope that the teacher union stands up for this blogger and supports her right to express herself freely, to ask difficult questions and to lament the challenging situations that are so much a part of today’s classroom. Students know what’s going on because they are the ones behaving badly; however, it’s a rare event for a student to return home at the end of the day and admit to a parent that s/he was badly behaved, cussed out a teacher, left campus, and spent the rest of the day hanging out with friends off-campus. Far too often, the student doesn’t see anything wrong with so doing because it was "all the teacher's fault," and, regretably, the parent falls into the same faulty reasoning. However, when the parent supports the child by blaming the school and/or attacking the teacher, the student adds yet another skill set to their toolbox for avoiding responsibility for their actions.
And, if the student is really on his/her game, someone in the classroom caught the bad behavior on a cellphone and posted it to You Tube, adding to the "you are there" viral video power base of children behaving badly -- and the instant world-wide fame -- to prove it.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Generation Gap
Today's younger generations think nothing of discarding what they don't want, don't need, and/or don't like. Those of us enjoying memories from much farther back keep, conserve, reuse, recycle, and pass on to others who may be able to get another use out of whatever it is. My theory is that mine is the first generation after The Great Depression, so our parents learned during their marriages to waste not/want not. I distinctly remember being reminded to scrape the butter wrapper, then store it in the 'fridge to use to grease the baking pans each weekend. We made do, but we also made from scratch almost everything we had/used, including bread.
Even the failed batches, rare, but it did happen, were somehow recycled: sometimes, the worst went to the chickens, ducks, and/or pigs in lieu of purchasing animal food. Our yard dog always ate the scraps and gnawed the meat bones from the Sunday roast dinner and the payday sirloin juicy steak, as we always called it. Bread crumbs fed the birds, but stale bread became French toast. Although we never had too much, we always had what we needed, but little more than that.
Yesterday, I visited Sam's Club for the second time in a week, a rare happening in my world. I purchased what I needed the first visit, but went back and purchased a new paper shredder as it's time to shred past student records and the little machine I've used for the past 5 years simply is not up to the task. I also have a filing cabinet that I can empty of records literally going back into the 1980s. Another failing of my parents' generation was the teaching to save everything because one never knows when one might need it. Of course, I realized a really long time ago that I never need it, but old habits are hard to break.
As I passed the food aisle at Sam's on my way to the register, I spied a pepperoni pizza and my taste buds came to full alert. I'm not a big pizza eater, but I've had a hankering for one, so stopped and took a look. A new, extra-thin crust promised less baking time, and a really big pepperoni pizza was about $6.50, which made it cost-effective. I saved it for my Friday late afternoon meal and by that time, my mouth was watering.
I always cut away half the crust, pile the toppings onto the remaining half, and then bake the half-pizza. As I peeled away the extra half, I thought to myself that the dough resembled a baked cracker prior to baking: really much too thin, perforated with holes, and not all that appetizing. I preheated the oven, then put the half-pizza onto a baking sheet and into the oven for the requisite 15 minutes.
Yuck: the crust burned black all around the edges, but was pasty in the middle. Ditto the toppings, which either burned to inedible or barely heated. The sauce was awful in both taste and texture, and the cheese didn't melt, which means it was probably a cheese product, rather than real cheese. I tasted it, said a nasty word, then ate the first piece. It was not good, but I somehow thought that maybe another piece would taste better/different, so I cut another slice, tasted it, confirmed my initial "nasty" evaluation, but still ate the entire piece. The third piece I donated to the dogs, sans everything but the pepperoni and sausage balls that I deemed okay for the dogs to eat.
When all is said and done, I could not believe that I actually ate 2 big pieces of the worst-tasting pizza ever! If I did not have dogs to eat the meat products off the last slice, I probably would have eaten that slice, too. I was raised not to waste food -- and even long past that need, I was going to eat the pizza, rather than toss it out, which I should have done after the first bite.
It's easy to think that we all should grow past our youth, but those lessons learned young stay for a lifetime, lurking in the background while waiting for a time to pop to the forefront of our lives. I don't save left-overs in little plastic dishes unless I know I have enough to actually eat during a meal. I toss out bread that goes stale for the birds to enjoy, rather than make French toast, as all that butter/syrup is not recommended for my diabetes. I do feed the dogs bits of the meat I eat, as well as give them the bones for gnawing, but don't have the chickens, ducks, or pigs for the rest of the consumable trash products I generate.
And, of course, I do pick up change off the pavement that other people discard because my generation also learned that ... a penny saved is a penny earned. When it's a nickel, dime, or quarter, I feel as if I've hit the trifecta of free money and stash it in a tin can meant for all these treasures.
These are the memories that tie me to my childhood and come calling on an early Saturday morning.
Even the failed batches, rare, but it did happen, were somehow recycled: sometimes, the worst went to the chickens, ducks, and/or pigs in lieu of purchasing animal food. Our yard dog always ate the scraps and gnawed the meat bones from the Sunday roast dinner and the payday sirloin juicy steak, as we always called it. Bread crumbs fed the birds, but stale bread became French toast. Although we never had too much, we always had what we needed, but little more than that.
Yesterday, I visited Sam's Club for the second time in a week, a rare happening in my world. I purchased what I needed the first visit, but went back and purchased a new paper shredder as it's time to shred past student records and the little machine I've used for the past 5 years simply is not up to the task. I also have a filing cabinet that I can empty of records literally going back into the 1980s. Another failing of my parents' generation was the teaching to save everything because one never knows when one might need it. Of course, I realized a really long time ago that I never need it, but old habits are hard to break.
As I passed the food aisle at Sam's on my way to the register, I spied a pepperoni pizza and my taste buds came to full alert. I'm not a big pizza eater, but I've had a hankering for one, so stopped and took a look. A new, extra-thin crust promised less baking time, and a really big pepperoni pizza was about $6.50, which made it cost-effective. I saved it for my Friday late afternoon meal and by that time, my mouth was watering.
I always cut away half the crust, pile the toppings onto the remaining half, and then bake the half-pizza. As I peeled away the extra half, I thought to myself that the dough resembled a baked cracker prior to baking: really much too thin, perforated with holes, and not all that appetizing. I preheated the oven, then put the half-pizza onto a baking sheet and into the oven for the requisite 15 minutes.
Yuck: the crust burned black all around the edges, but was pasty in the middle. Ditto the toppings, which either burned to inedible or barely heated. The sauce was awful in both taste and texture, and the cheese didn't melt, which means it was probably a cheese product, rather than real cheese. I tasted it, said a nasty word, then ate the first piece. It was not good, but I somehow thought that maybe another piece would taste better/different, so I cut another slice, tasted it, confirmed my initial "nasty" evaluation, but still ate the entire piece. The third piece I donated to the dogs, sans everything but the pepperoni and sausage balls that I deemed okay for the dogs to eat.
When all is said and done, I could not believe that I actually ate 2 big pieces of the worst-tasting pizza ever! If I did not have dogs to eat the meat products off the last slice, I probably would have eaten that slice, too. I was raised not to waste food -- and even long past that need, I was going to eat the pizza, rather than toss it out, which I should have done after the first bite.
It's easy to think that we all should grow past our youth, but those lessons learned young stay for a lifetime, lurking in the background while waiting for a time to pop to the forefront of our lives. I don't save left-overs in little plastic dishes unless I know I have enough to actually eat during a meal. I toss out bread that goes stale for the birds to enjoy, rather than make French toast, as all that butter/syrup is not recommended for my diabetes. I do feed the dogs bits of the meat I eat, as well as give them the bones for gnawing, but don't have the chickens, ducks, or pigs for the rest of the consumable trash products I generate.
And, of course, I do pick up change off the pavement that other people discard because my generation also learned that ... a penny saved is a penny earned. When it's a nickel, dime, or quarter, I feel as if I've hit the trifecta of free money and stash it in a tin can meant for all these treasures.
These are the memories that tie me to my childhood and come calling on an early Saturday morning.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Where Do My Rights Begin?
There is a family with a huge working farm in the middle of the CV, growing olives for their commercial enterprise: The Mission Santa Rosa Ranch is an 80-acre Coachella olive farm that's home to our family begins their letter to the editor in today's online newspaper. 
The conflict arises because hot air balloons proliferate in the desert due to ideal "floating above it all" conditions that also allow the balloons to hover directly over the working farm, which has become an unwilling tourist destination. (photo: The Desert Sun)
The owners of the olive farm, the Marrelli family, requested the hot air balloonists not travel over their living quarters at all, a beautiful compound in the Napa Valley style reminiscent of wine country, and also asked that the balloons stay the requisite 500 feet up when they do have to pass over the orchards. This seems like a simple request, especially since the Marrelli family ascertains that the balloonists have made their home a stop on the tour of the Valley, often coming down to the roof line of their residence so passengers on the balloon flights can converse with the family and take endless photos of the property, people, and product!
Where do my rights begin and your rights end? For the Marrelli family, it seems that the public assumes the right to respond to that question: if the balloonists aren't hurting anyone, they have the right to ... .
No, they don't. The property is completely fenced off from ground approach, with security gates designed to permit invited guests onto the property, while keeping unwanted intruders outside. Unfortunately, there is no way to fence off the airspace, but why would anyone assume the right to trespass from the air when it's obvious that trespassing from the ground is a criminal act?
Responses to the Marrelli's family letter are quite firm in the opinion that the Marrelli family should not receive special treatment, including being allowed to post a Letter to the Editor that is, in the responder's opinion, much too long and violates the newspaper's Letter to the Editor stated policy! The Marrelli family, however, rightly states in their letter that they have already received far too much negative press from the local media, most of which is based on erroneous information, and simply want to set the record straight. Quid pro quo?
One balloonist claims that he is now bankrupt solely because he is not allowed to float over the farm. Of course, it follows that he's suing the Marrelli family for his failed business, although there are no legal documents currently on file that the Marrelli family lawyer can locate through the legal system. Thus, the trial is taking place in the media: if the headline is big enough and the accusations made repeatedly, the lies become the truth in the peoples' minds. The rights of the family to protection from an air invasion is obfuscated by the barrage of accusations about "big business" cheating "the little guy" out of his right to make a living.
After all, this is America, and anyone has the right to violate your rights and try the case in the media. Sadly, far too often the violator wins the case, but this time, I hope the Marrelli family's right to privacy from above is affirmed when the case goes to court and the "little guy's" lawsuit is denied.
The conflict arises because hot air balloons proliferate in the desert due to ideal "floating above it all" conditions that also allow the balloons to hover directly over the working farm, which has become an unwilling tourist destination. (photo: The Desert Sun)The owners of the olive farm, the Marrelli family, requested the hot air balloonists not travel over their living quarters at all, a beautiful compound in the Napa Valley style reminiscent of wine country, and also asked that the balloons stay the requisite 500 feet up when they do have to pass over the orchards. This seems like a simple request, especially since the Marrelli family ascertains that the balloonists have made their home a stop on the tour of the Valley, often coming down to the roof line of their residence so passengers on the balloon flights can converse with the family and take endless photos of the property, people, and product!
Where do my rights begin and your rights end? For the Marrelli family, it seems that the public assumes the right to respond to that question: if the balloonists aren't hurting anyone, they have the right to ... .
No, they don't. The property is completely fenced off from ground approach, with security gates designed to permit invited guests onto the property, while keeping unwanted intruders outside. Unfortunately, there is no way to fence off the airspace, but why would anyone assume the right to trespass from the air when it's obvious that trespassing from the ground is a criminal act?
Responses to the Marrelli's family letter are quite firm in the opinion that the Marrelli family should not receive special treatment, including being allowed to post a Letter to the Editor that is, in the responder's opinion, much too long and violates the newspaper's Letter to the Editor stated policy! The Marrelli family, however, rightly states in their letter that they have already received far too much negative press from the local media, most of which is based on erroneous information, and simply want to set the record straight. Quid pro quo?
One balloonist claims that he is now bankrupt solely because he is not allowed to float over the farm. Of course, it follows that he's suing the Marrelli family for his failed business, although there are no legal documents currently on file that the Marrelli family lawyer can locate through the legal system. Thus, the trial is taking place in the media: if the headline is big enough and the accusations made repeatedly, the lies become the truth in the peoples' minds. The rights of the family to protection from an air invasion is obfuscated by the barrage of accusations about "big business" cheating "the little guy" out of his right to make a living.
After all, this is America, and anyone has the right to violate your rights and try the case in the media. Sadly, far too often the violator wins the case, but this time, I hope the Marrelli family's right to privacy from above is affirmed when the case goes to court and the "little guy's" lawsuit is denied.
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