SeanSumner.blog

As I walked out on my front porch this morning, coffee in hand, I was greeted by an overcast sky without the possibility of any rain for the day. When the skies get overcast and last all day it makes me a little sad. I always enjoy the sunshine and I enjoy the rain. But when there’s no sunshine and no rain it’s just a gloomy day. I will spend this day completing many of the small tasks that must be done either inside or on my computer. It is been a while since I have produced a blog. One of the reasons is that my wife has been gone visiting relatives for several weeks. What this means for me, when I wake up I get started immediately by taking care of the dogs and going outside to start my project. When she is not here I do not take the time to sit down and drink my coffee and watch the news.This means I do not sit down and write a blog.

I have been going fishing in my new boat. I told you in a prior blog that if I got the boat I would let you know. It is not a big fancy bass boat; it is that basic Tracker aluminum bass boat. Originally, I struggled with the idea of borrowing money to get this new toy. But I received a lot of encouragement from my family and my friends, like Frank in Sacramento. Frank’s statement that, we are not getting any younger and we should enjoy our life, really pulled me through.

I think one of the issues I was feeling is that I was being selfish and spoiled for buying this boat. The retirement funds that I live on are finite. Each time there are large amounts of money spent on an item, there is a realization that that money is gone and will not be replaced. Sometimes it feels like I am between a rock and a hard place. I know that I need some kind of activity to look forward to which will keep me busy and active. For me, that is fishing. Even though I normally do not eat fish, it is an activity that takes all my concentration. When I go fishing I do not think about any of the issues surrounding my life. I solely concentrate on the fishing, while enjoying the view of sitting on the water. I do not know at this point that in five years I will still say that I am enjoying the boat and fishing. But I can say that right now it feels great. I also enjoy the fact that I can do this alone without the help to get the boat in and out of the water. The aluminum boat is very light and easy to launch and recover.

There’s another thing about fishing, it doesn’t matter what the size of the fish is. It is the thrill of casting out the line and waiting for the strike. Even after the strike, it is an effort to get the fish in the boat. I fish for largemouth Bass and many of them, even after I think they have been hooked, fly into the air and the hook is released from the fish. I usually call that spitting the hook out. I am always amazed when a very small fish attacks a lure which is barely larger than the fish itself. I practice catch and release. So when I get home and I am asked about the fish that I caught, I can only tell a fish story. Not a bad hobby.

I look forward to my trip on the lake and fishing. But I also do not want to do it every day. I still enjoy working with my hands and riding my tractor. I imagine many seniors like me still want to diversify doing new and different things. The challenge is to keep those new and different things within a fixed budget.

I do not want to run out of money before I run out of life. But I have no idea how long my life will be and I have to face the fact that I can do things now that I may not be able to do in 10 or 15 years. If I’m lucky and I turn out like Frank in Sacramento who is 92 and still active, I will truly be lucky.

I want to mention a few other things in this blog. One of the reasons that I write this blog is to help me deal with my PTSD. I do not like even mentioning the fact that I have PTSD. But it does affect my life and I have to deal with the ups and downs that it brings me. For some reason, I have recently been a little down. Buying the boat itself helped me climb back up out of the deep hole of depression. I told my wife recently that I was feeling a little lost. I’m sure that many people, who retired from a job that took all of their attention and effort, now feel some of that sense of loss. It is not that there are things to do; it is like starting all over again. But this time it is less clear what the goals are. For all of us the goal is to enjoy life. But that leaves a lot of wiggle room as far as defining a goal. I’m blessed with a lot of people who support me in my retirement. And I really have no reason to even get depressed. But it happens and so far I have beaten it. Back to my opening statement, overcast days make it a little harder to feel bright and perky.

As a proud man, I find it hard to share in any of the above thoughts. I believe I’ve always been strong and now I do not want to look weak or frail. I’m not asking for sympathy nor do I want it. But as this blog is a way for me to handle some of my issues with PTSD, I’m going to let a few things go out.

Pops

As I walked out on my front porch this morning, coffee in hand, I stopped and witnessed the down pouring of rain. It was a beautiful site and I know that it will help the trees and fill the pond. Even though the rain kept me from working outside, it gave me time to work inside the shop and clean it up.

It also gave me time to get the forms together to register my old boat. I bought an old boat and I have spent a lot of time fixing the leaks and getting the engine to run. Now came time to register the boat and so last week I went down and got the forms. In Texas when you buy a boat you have two forms to fill out a title for the boat and one for the boat engine. Having not done this before, I started out thinking that it would be a routine task. I had the two titles signed by the prior owner and the two forms filled out and signed by the prior owner.

So filled with hope and with a smile I drove down to the local courthouse to present the titles and paperwork to the court clerk, so that the boat would be registered and titled in my name. Well on my first visit the young clerk looked at the titles and informed me that the titles needed to be signed on the back as well as the front. So I went back to the prior owner to have him sign the back of the title at the location that the young clerk pointed to. The prior owner signed everything without hesitation and said that I was lucky to catch him as he and his wife were headed off to another part of the country for the next six months. At that point I felt lucky and happy. So I took the two newly signed titles and the forms back to the clerk’s office at the courthouse. This time I was met by a senior clerk, who quickly looker at the two titles and told me that they had been signed on the wrong line. She told me I would have to go back to the prior owner and have him sign the titles again. Then she glanced at the two forms that I had presented with the titles. She quickly told me that she would be unable to accept those forms because I had made a cross out and a correction (I used a pen to darken in a number that I placed on the form ) this meant that the forms were no good and they would have to be replaced with new ones and signed again. I was told by the clerk that the Parks and Wildlife Department would not accept any kind of crossover or mark over of any kind on the form. The form had to be perfect. Well at this moment my heart just sunk to my feet because the prior owner had told me that he was going to work at another location in the country and would not be back for six months.

All of a sudden I felt like I wasn’t going to get the boat put in to my name. And if that was to happen I might as well just put the boat at the back of the property or use it as a prop on the pond. When I got home and told my wife what happened she said it was okay and that we could wait for six months, not to worry. Even though in my mind I knew the guy was already gone by now, I went to his house and found the place locked up. So I left a note on his door (I put the note in a plastic baggie so that the rain would not destroy it) and I taped it to the door. My hope was that the note would survive any bad weather and the man would find the note when he got back home. I also wrote a letter to his address hoping that it would find him wherever he ended up. I had failed to get the prior owners cell phone number the first time.

Luckily for me the man’s company decided not to send him to the other location and he went back to his house and found my note. He called me and I made an arrangement to get with him later. So I went back to the senior clerk and got some new forms and asked her for directions on what should be signed and where it should be signed.

I bring all this up because I’m sure that if you’ve ever owned a vehicle, a boat or a motorcycle you had to deal with the same procedures. I am sure you have had the same problem as I when it came to filling out a form. And I’m sure you felt the same frustration when the front desk clerk tells you that you’ve done something wrong and the court would not accept the form that you have presented. I know that when I lived in California and had to deal with the DMV it was always a negative and ugly experience. Especially when the clerk at the desk, who seems to hate their job and appeared not to really want to talk to you and then looked at you with disgust and disdain only to tell you that you’ll have to go back and redo the form. That usually meant you also had to go back to the end of the line. Fortunately living in the rural community there are no long lines and the clerk actually seems like they want to help you before they tell you that you have to redo the form and the signatures over again.

It is during these times that you realize the power of the front desk clerk. That person who is the gatekeeper who may or may not allow you to proceed with the lengthy and sometimes confusing forms that you must fill out perfectly to become registered and titleholder. If you have a trailer that goes along with the boat it will demand that you go to a different agency and a different set of forms to register it. I know that each time that I go to get an inspection sticker for my vehicle I go and face the clerk. And even when they tell me I can’t get there from here I still say thank you and smile as I walk away, I do not want to piss them off.

Now, most things can be done on a computer and through the Internet. But there are some things that are still done the old-fashioned way which demands that you humbly go to the courthouse or the DMV and hope that all your forms are in proper order. For me it was a plus to have that clerk be pleasant but it still felt bad when I had to turn around rejected.

I still do not have the titles or the forms ready for another run at the front desk clerk. This time I’m going to wait and have my wife help me fill out the forms in the hopes that between the two of us the form will be perfect.

Pops

 

As I walked out on my porch this morning, coffee in hand, I was greeted by the heat that is the usual occurrence of August in Texas. I can expect the temperatures for the next several weeks to be in the mid to upper 90s with the humidity in about the same range. I received an e-mail yesterday from an old friend who I went to officer candidate school with at Fort Benning Georgia. It was during those days that I stood as his best man at his wedding. We both went on our way as Army officers. Many of the members of my class ended up in Vietnam. A good number of my classmates did not make it back. But for those that did life went on in the many different areas that we all came from.

Every once in a while I get the invitation to go to a reunion of the remaining members of my officer candidate school class (OCS). And each time I get an invitation my friend makes a plea for me to join the rest of the group. I do not attend those functions. I feel that is time that I explained my actions.

Reunions are usually a gathering of people who experienced an event. The first one that comes to mind is a high school reunion. I did go to my 25th year anniversary of the class of 1965. And I left that event feeling depressed and disappointed. I think for many people high school was a great adventure. But for me it was a struggle. To begin with I was barely able to make a C average to graduate. My career advisor recommended that I not go to college and try to find some type of blue-collar work. I was not a popular kid in school and truly did not run with the popular kids. I was one of those people who played in the band, ran on the track team and swam on the swimming team. I participated in plays and speech contests. None of these activities were ever considered cool or fun. While I was at the reunion I was reminded of all those things. The beautiful people of this class seem to have gone on to good jobs and successful marriages. During one meeting with a group of my former classmates one of them blurted out, all the kids in the band were dorks “. I quickly reminded her that I was in the band and she hastily replied, “I did not mean you”. Maybe it was fun to see the people that were some of the good lookers at school who did not all turn out to be good lookers as adults. And maybe some of those dull dorks turned out to be beautiful people. All in all I found it depressing and disappointing to be there. I was not celebrating some great years of my life; high school for me was a struggle and many times a humiliating experience.

After graduating from college I would continually get invitations for reunions or get-togethers for the alumni of the college, in my case Pepperdine University. I do not go to these because while I was going to college I had a full-time job as a policeman and only attended the night and weekend courses to be able to get my degree. That too was a great struggle. I did not live in a dorm or in a fraternity and engage in all the activities that college students engaged in. I did not go to the games or get invited to the parties. That is because I had a full-time job, a wife and children to take care of. There was little time to have fun at the University; it was a serious effort on my part just to keep going to classes.

I also get invitations to reunions for those members of the Los Angeles police department who worked in the same divisions that I worked; the narcotics division. Even now most of those reunions are somewhere around Los Angeles there some of the detectives who worked there who now live in Texas. So every now and then I get an invitation to reunion somewhere in Texas of those men and women who worked for the Los Angeles police department when I did. I do not go to those because most of those people were never my partners during the time that I spent at work, there were over 9,000 employees. I worked for the LAPD during some of the most challenging times for a police officer. The growth of gang violence and narcotics use was rampant. And I experienced a riot in Los Angeles in 1992 where the police department just broke down and did not do its job. Most of my time was spent undercover where I did not associate with fellow police officers because I did not want to blow my cover. There were some exciting times, but I would like to leave those exciting times in California. It was also during those years that I began to abuse alcohol and I experienced a divorce that caused me to see less of my children, so I really don’t want to get together with a bunch of old fellow employees and relive the memories of my 20+ years on the LAPD. Many of the stories that would be told should be left alone. Once again not everybody that worked for the LAPD had a positive and glamorous experience.

The reason for this blog is to explain why I do not want to go to a reunion of my fellow OCS classmates. Just like school and college I struggled to get through the officer candidate school program. The program during those days was six months long. During that time I and my fellow classmates were treated like dirt. I was told this was done to make us ready to function properly under combat conditions. Not all of my classmates went to Vietnam. But I did. I did make some friends in the platoon that I was in while in officer candidate school. And even today I recognize their names when I get a message from them. But I hope they understand that I have wiped my memory of many of the experiences that I went through during the program. And the memory of my time there was one of stress and struggle. I know that many people feel a comradery when they have experienced such a program and survived. I do not wish to relive any of that. Going to a reunion I know that we will talk about experiences after the program. My experience was at that I went to Vietnam and witnessed some of the horrors of war. I also participated in the horrors of war. I like many soldiers who return from a war zone has some strong emotions about the experience. To begin with I feel guilty that I was not killed in Vietnam and many of my friends and the men I was in charge of did die there. I was also responsible for the death of a lot of people. This continues to haunt me especially in my older age. I do not want to relive any of those experiences. This is also why I don’t go to group therapy at the VA. I really don’t give a shit how many other men and women experience the same thing I did. I do not want to share my feelings or discuss my current mental state. This is why, with the medication and the visits to the psychiatrist, I still fight depression. Don’t get me wrong by working with the medication and the psychiatrist I’m doing pretty well right now. But I certainly do not want to get with a bunch of guys and start talking over old times and war stories. I do not know that I will ever want to share the experiences with anyone. I’ve had to tell my family members and I do not participate in many of the family events because I have difficulty doing so. Reunions for me are not fun. I would rather work on making new memories of a positive nature and just enjoying them as they happen. I don’t need to get together with a bunch of other people to do so.

POPS

 

 

 

As I walked out on my porch this morning, coffee in hand, I was greeted by sunshine and a cool temperature somewhere in the upper 60s. What a wonderful treat for the middle of August in Texas. I did not go out on my front porch yesterday morning because I was preparing for another procedure that meant I could not have any food, not even water from midnight to the time of the procedure which was 11 AM. It’s funny how hungry you can feel and how thirsty you are when somebody tells you that you cannot have it. So from the minute that I woke up around 7:30am in the morning until the time of the procedure my stomach growled and my mouth felt dry. I do not know why one must fast for every procedure no matter what it is for. As it turned out I made it to the hospital on time for my appointment. After the usual direction from the volunteer to the lady who makes sure I have insurance, I was directed to wait in the lobby. As this is a small rural hospital there was only one other person waiting in the lobby sitting on the oversized couches. As my wife and I were talking to each other about the hospital the woman who was also waiting, let us know that she was waiting for the same procedure and her appointment was an hour earlier than mine. Like most people there’s not much you can do about the hospital appointments being on time. I think the general rule of thumb is that no appointment at a doctor’s office or hospital, are ever on time. As I spoke to the lady waiting for her appointment one of the volunteers in the front lobby area started to make popcorn. The lady in front of me laughed and said, “Now that is cruel and unusual punishment. They make you fast all night long and then you show up to the hospital and wait almost an hour after your appointment time and they’re making popcorn.” I laughed and agreed that there is always something delicious about the smell of popcorn. Just as the lady pulled out her phone to call the x-ray department and cancel her appointment, her name was called to go to x-ray. With that happening I knew it was going to be a while before they called my name. I did get excited when somebody called out my first name of Stephen. I jumped off of the couch and went towards the volunteer who called the name hoping that it was my turn, only to find out she was calling out the name of another Stephen. So I wheeled around back to the couch and waited for my name to be called again. Sometime later my name was called. As I was directed to the x-ray department a middle-age man in scrubs greeted me in the hallway (he was the x-ray technician) and asked how I was doing? I told him I was waiting for him. He looked at me with a puzzled look and asked how long I’ve been waiting. It was apparent to me that he had no clue that he was an hour or so behind on his appointments. So you cannot be mad at the guy doing x-rays or the really nice old ladies who are volunteers at the hospital directing me to his office. Basically you just smile and go through the procedure.

Most hospital administrators are nowhere near the area where people who were signing in for their appointment gather. They hide behind the many hallways and doors with all the appropriate signs that say “do not enter staff only”. And of course if they asked the nice ladies who are volunteers in the front of the hospital, those ladies will always say things are just fine. Volunteers are really good people with kind hearts. The administrators are busy with the many duties that run the hospital and they do not seem to really care about whether a patient is being seen on time or not. In my mind they could probably adjust the times when they give the appointment times to allow for the delays that might happen in a hospital. It would be nice when you sign in if they would let you know that they are a little behind today. Sometimes I think that hospitals are just like the Department of Motor Vehicles, they know I need them and they know that I am not going away. It is usually the staff that are in the front of the hospital or the doctor’s office they get all the rage and anger from a patient about how late their appointment is. But by the time the doctor actually shows up, or the person is doing the procedure, all you want to do is get the procedure done.

Why is it when the doctor finally does come down the hallway and he or she ask you how you’re feeling your first response is “fine”. I am not fine that is why I am at their office. I do not believe that it is the doctor’s fault that the appointments are going late. I think that falls on the hospital, office or the clinics administration. And it seems that after you waited about a half hour to 45 minutes your name is called and you’re sent back to a room and you set there for 45 minutes before actually seeing the doctor. The nurses that you meet along the way can be either very nice are just about the business of you being there. They seem to speak to other employees there about events of their day as if you’re not there beside them. I’m lucky that I’m in a rural area and the nurse that greets me at the door seems to be actually interested in why I’m there.

I’m fortunate enough to have insurance that covers most of my medical needs. But I’m also one of those faceless number people who call up and get an appointment time only to expect and then receive the fact that that appointment time will be delayed. Luckily now you can bring a device with you and read a book or watch a movie that you actually like. I’m not sure where they get the magazines that they throw down on the tables in the waiting room, but the only time I actually read those magazines is when I desperate to kill time.

I know that living in United States of America I am lucky to have the availability of medical care. Maybe my dislike for not being seen at the appointment time is a bit like a spoiled child. Maybe it’s because I’m an old man and I get more irritated all the time. Luckily I’m married to a great woman who usually goes with me to these appointments and she keeps me in check and makes the waiting worthwhile.

Pops

 

As I walked out of my front porch this morning, coffee in hand, I was again greeted by bright sunlight beams breaking through the tree leaves and bouncing off the forest floor. I went back inside my house and called my doctor’s office to make an appointment. First of all, stating that it is my doctor is someone being naïve. I go to clinics to see whatever doctor I can get to take a look at me. I am a disabled veteran and I have the capability of asking to see a doctor at the VA clinic. But I only do that when I feel I can wait a month or two before getting an appointment to see a doctor. The VA doctors see so many different patients that when I do get into their office the doctor will act as if it is for the first time, because the doctor does not have any memory of my last visit other than to look at the computer. And so I when have a need to see a doctor as soon as possible I go to a local clinic. When I go to the clinic I’m not sure whether I will see a medical doctor or a nurse practitioner. The good part about using the local clinic is that I can get in to see the doctor within a short period of time. I’m fortunate that I live in a rural area and the number of people waiting to see the doctor are few. Unlike the waiting rooms at the VA clinics are in a major city doctor’s office, the waiting rooms here are clean and not crowded.

The reason I mention all of these things is because I use them as an excuse usually not to see a doctor. I noticed that especially men, older men; really do not like to go to see a doctor – any doctor. They especially do not like to go to see a dentist. The image of seeing the dentist usually conjures upon the thought of pain. Just the use of a needle to administer a numbing effect is awful. My last visit to the dentist ended up in my losing six teeth. Not that it was their fault that my teeth are so bad. But I’m sure just like many of you out there the thought of going to the dentist is one of the least likely places you’d like to go.

It usually takes some real suffering and then concerned about my condition before I go to see a doctor. To begin with it costs money to see the doctor. No matter what kind of insurance you have, if you have insurance, it is usually an expense you did not budget for. If you wait too long you end up going to the hospital via ambulance. The cost of the use of an ambulance is outrageous. It will cost you about $600 or more for those two medics to drive you to a hospital. I think most the time people call for an ambulance out of concern for one’s safety, without even thinking about the cost of the transportation. But I’ve been transported in non-emergency condition a few times and every time I am amazed what my insurance company pays for transportation. Now, I am concerned that my insurance is not as strong as before. It is a real concern for me on how to handle the cost of transportation by an ambulance. Maybe it is a good thing because I’m more likely not to let my health get so bad that I will not need an ambulance get to a hospital.

In today’s world when you get to the waiting room the first person you’re going to see is a clerk that confirms the appointment and then immediately jumps into how are you going to pay for this. I know when I have gone to an emergency room, when my father was in bad health, one of the first people that we spoke to was not a nurse or doctor but the person handling the billing. Most people even chase you down into the hallways to find you while you are lying on a gurney waiting for a room just to get your information on how to pay for the treatment. I know that the treatment is not for free and the time effort and education plus the cost of location need to be met for the hospital to survive. Maybe it is because so many people that use our emergency rooms and are planning to use it for free because they say they cannot pay the bill. Just like the illegal immigrants across our borders and then end up in our emergency rooms. There are many people who use the same emergency rooms and say they can’t afford to pay for it even if they can. They know how to use the system. Legally the hospital cannot turn them away. So if you’re someone who goes to that clinic or hospital and looks like you possibly could pay; a trained administrative professional will make sure that they get all the information any possibility of payment from you.

I do not like to be hunted down and questioned about my ability to pay before I even see a medical professional. I would hope that the first concern of the clinic or hospital would be my health. Because if I’m healthy and I am able to work and able to pay my bills. Maybe it’s because there are very few independent hospitals or clinics. They are all part of a bigger company or organization. And the fact that they cannot turn away someone at one location makes them latch on to anyone who walks into the location and looks like they can actually pay the bill. Some of those clerks work to find the money and stop at nothing to find someone either related to you or around you to pay the bill.

 

I, like many Americans worry that the cost of having insurance will make it almost impossible to afford to go to a hospital or clinic. And as far as the VA hospital goes, that’s just a joke. The system is so badly managed and overwhelmed that I will be nothing more than a number rather than the patient.

So do I want to go to a doctor because I’m feeling bad? Not really I will probably try everything else before going there. I will check the Internet to see if they have an answer for me. I will listen to advice that is given on talk shows. And I will usually consult with some family member, usually a woman, about my condition and how to treat it. I will do all of this usually before going to a doctor.

My thought for the day is that the United States of America must find some way to reallocate billions of dollars that is in our nation’s budget to address the growing needs of the many middle-class citizens need for medical care. No one in the middle-class is asking for a free ride. But there has to be a better way to make health care affordable and personal. I prefer the doctor look at me while talking to me rather than looking at a computer and just reciting my history. I would hope that the United States of America would quit spending billions of dollars on foreign countries and their relations. I would hope they would use that same money to help with healthcare system and on the fight to eliminate cancer. I know this will not happen with this Congress, the worst do-nothing Congress in history, but I hope for a brighter future with the next generation of congressmen and women.

Pops

 

As I have done for the first 100 blogs that I completed, which happened in the last blog, I will continue to start my blogs in the same fashion. It is my way of giving the reader an ideal of what the world looks like physically from my front porch.

As I walked out on my front porch today, coffee in hand, I was greeted by sunshine breaking through the tree leaves and lighting up the forest floor. It has been mostly overcast for the last week and so I’m enjoying the sunshine. The temperature for the last couple of weeks has been way below average. Today the top temperature will probably be around 80°. In the next five days the top temperature will be 100 degrees. The changing temperature will change my activity level outside the house. This got me to thinking about the activity level that we all can experience and what we are expected to experience.

During your childhood and then your young adulthood you probably spent as much time inside as outside. The inside time was usually experienced in your house or at your school. The outside time was dictated by where you live. If you lived in an urban area or a big city your choices made in a few as to where you want to play and on the social environment. If you lived in the suburbs your choices grew to the many parks and even the less traveled streets and driveways in your neighborhood. If you lived in rural country he may have found a lot of places to enjoy, yet your choices were probably very few as to organize activities outside the school. I have been fortunate to have lived in all those locations.

And each of those locations seems to have its own reputation or profile. You can find this by where people proclaim that they came from like: downtown, uptown in the city, from the suburbs, in the country, the south side, west side, north side or the east side. Depending on where you were at you were probably profiled by the person speaking to you by the description of where they came from.

For example, I used to work with a lady who would proudly proclaim she came from the South side Chicago. I suppose that was to mean that she was tough. This type of profiling even goes to the area of the nation lived in. I can remember when I first moved to Texas and I told somebody I was originally from Indiana I was proclaimed as a “Yankee”. I did not know people still thought that way. If I told them I came from California rather than Indiana, they would say something like you came from the land of fruits and nuts. And if I would tell them I came from New York City, I was a “damn Yankee”. I found the same kind of reaction when I was speaking in the North and I told people that I was from Texas. Some people would respond to me by saying, “Shit Howdy”. Or something like, “wheres your cowboy hat and boots.” Many of these profiles come from the different media sources that we watch. Sources like movies, television, magazines and newspapers. I was more likely to get a preconceived opinion about a place from a movie or television rather than from the books that I studied at school.

This practice of profiling is now even more present when it comes to people from other countries. For some time now the rise of the Hispanic population has started to change the culture in many of the states. I use the word Hispanic because as a policeman it was drilled in to my head to use this term. However the more popular term was Mexican. That is because most of the people who are coming to the big cities like Los Angeles in the past came from Mexico. They were not as welcomed as people from Canada or Europe. But they proved to be hard-working and family oriented, making them a part of the very soul and the fabric of the United States. What is interesting is that today there seems to be more people coming from other South American countries like Columbia, El Salvador and the Dominican Republic. We seem to lump all of these South American countries into one group called Hispanics. But they are not all from the same cultures and from the same governments. Yet we are quick to put them only in one category or profile.

The word profiling represents to many people a very negative image. Yet I think it is something that everyone does every day. It is using what experiences you’ve experienced and taking in all your senses into making some sort of a quick decision or an opinion and how to respond. Maybe you grew up in a neighborhood where the number 13 was meant to represent the letter M for marijuana and then you find yourself in another neighborhood where the number 13 represents some sort of gang affiliation. This could get you into trouble. Maybe you grew up in a neighborhood where the presence of a police car going up and down the street was welcomed as a chance to say hi to the police officer. Or maybe you grew up in a neighborhood where the presence of a police car was not welcomed and usually meant somebody was going to go to jail. Maybe you grew up in an area were a football game was soccer. Maybe you grew up in a small Texas town were football is a contact sport that rules the activities on Friday and Saturday nights.

I mention all of these maybes because this is what helps us develop the way that we profile people. I don’t think the profiling is wrong, because those images are usually based on some sort of life experience. But I do believe that even now when I profile a person or situation quickly, I also can give that person or situation the opportunity to be something different than I originally expected.

This takes some training and some effort and not continuing a knee-jerk reaction provided by profiling. I think the profiling is necessary and can help me from getting into a bad situation. But I also think I must continue to fight the knee-jerk reaction brought on by this profiling.

I’ve mentioned this philosophy in my blogs about how we treat senior citizens. For me this means people that are sixty years and older. Especially once a person gets to 70, 80 or 90 years old. It seems that those people are quickly profiled as feeble, week and unable to contribute to society. It is true that some people do not age well and they become dependent on others. But, there’s a whole group of senior citizens who are more than capable of: and would welcome, the opportunity to be involved.

I am a happy man, a senior citizen, who is active and ready to take on the next adventure. I am sure that my health in the future will diminish. But until things are different I want to be given the opportunity to participate in my culture, my state and my country.

Pops

As I walked out on my porch this morning, coffee in hand, I looked out on the forest floor and noticed all the standing water still around from yesterday’s rain. The greens of the trees and their leaves were outstanding. I smiled as I remembered trying to get a burn pile going yesterday only to be beaten down by the continuous rain that went on all day. I think I’ll try to do the burn pile again today. To do so I have to have the right combination of tools. I do not just go and put a match to a bunch of wet wood and expect it to start burning.
This got me to thinking about my belief that a person cannot have enough tools. And then following that thought, if a person has the tools they should try to have them nearby at all times. Like most people of my age, my family would usually take a summer vacation trip. This meant for me that six people were going to stuff themselves inside a 1957 station wagon and drive for three days to a camping destination. In those days there were no cell phones and very few phones along the highways to get help from anyone. So, my father would grab a small toolbox and fill it with anything he thought would be useful if the car broke down. There was a set of pliers, an adjustable wrench, a Flathead screwdriver and a Phillips head screwdriver. He attached a canvas bag to the front grill of the car which was filled with water for the radiator. He had gloves and a set of sockets, making sure that one of the sockets was the size of the lug nuts on the car. He brought a patch kit for the inner tube inside the tire. And then there were those items that I thought were unusual in the beginning that ended up being something I carry all the time. To begin with there was duct tape. Duct tape is a magical tool that can be used to tape up the radiator hose should it burst or crack. It also was used to patch the seat, that got torn during the trip, and a hold up the back taillight whose attaching screw had broken. I’m sure if you look at it many of you have used duct tape for a plethora of situations. My dad also brought along a wire clothes hanger. He could bend it shape it to hold on parts of the car that seem to fall off, this usually meant the muffler. I don’t know why the old car had such a problem keeping the muffler attached to the bottom of the car but it seemed like on every trip the muffler would come loose and the wire was used to keep the muffler attached until the trip was over. My dad also threw in a couple of flashlights with fresh battery sets so that if we broke down tonight I could hold the flashlight as a he cussed the engine department while repairing something that went wrong.
You would think with all that good training I would always have tools available while driving my car. Well while I was working I always owned a new car and it wasn’t long into my adulthood that cell phones came on the market. So, I had the capability of calling a tow truck or someone to help me. Well after moving out here on the tree farm I decided that I needed just one new vehicle. So, I went out and bought an old 1991 Ford pickup truck. There were several things wrong with it when I bought it and so after six months I had the truck running without any problems. During one of my first trips from the house I noticed that the temperature gauge went up very quickly. So I turned around and went back to the shop and I fixed the problem. During this time my wife bought me a small cell phone to use while driving the truck just in case it broke down and I needed to call her or a tow truck for help. So for the next several months any time I left the property driving the old Ford truck I had the cell phone with me. And during that time nothing really happened. But then I found myself in the need to drive about 20 miles to the local Home Depot and the only vehicle available was the Ford truck. So I took off and about 4 miles down the road, just to remind you this is a 2 lane country road, when I noticed that the water gauge had gone from normal to very hot, very quickly. So I pulled over on the side of the road, opened up the hood and scanned the engine compartment to see what the problem was. It didn’t take long for me to see that the brand-new heater hose I put on the radiator had come loose and therefore I was losing water quickly. It took me 5 minutes to figure this out and I think the total number of three cars passed me on the roadside. I realized that all I needed was a Flathead screwdriver to open , close and tighten the clamp on the radiator hose and I would be ready to drive on. But there was a problem; I didn’t have any tools in the truck or in the back bed of my old Ford truck. So I struggled and tried to use a dime as a Flathead screwdriver to tighten the hose clamp. I did have one guy stop and asked if I needed help and I told him that I needed a Flathead screwdriver and I would be fine. He looked at his truck and he could not find a Flathead screwdriver but he offered to trade vehicles if I would like to trade his vehicle for mine. He said he would be right back in a few minutes with a screw driver, but after 20 minutes I realized he wasn’t coming back. So, there I sat on the side of the road because I forgot to bring any tools or my phone with me. Finally the dime trick worked enough for me to get the radiator hose to stay on the radiator. Luckily I did have a gallon of water in the back of the truck and I was able to put it into the radiator. I then drove about 2 miles back towards the house before noticing the temperature gauge again began to rise. I pulled over the side of the road in front of a very old a small country house. There was an elderly gentleman sitting on his porch. I grabbed the container that I’ve used before and walked up to the gentleman and asked if I could get some water from his water hose. With all the grace and dignity of any man he stood up, he smiled at me and put his hand out to take the container from me. He turned around he said, “I have some water in the house and I will get it for you”. After about 10 minutes he returned with the container full of water. I thanked the man. Thanks to that man I was able to make it home. After getting home felt like kicking myself in the ass for not having my phone or a toolbox in that old truck.
I usually speak to my son in Sacramento California several times during the week. And, I relate to him the adventures that I experience out here in Texas. During all the years I’ve advised my son to get as many tools as he can. Yesterday, my son relayed to me his latest experience with tools. He explained that he had a light that was not working on his truck and he got the replacement part and put it on. But the blinker wasn’t working as it should and so he was going to take it back to a shop to have a mechanic look at. He put his bicycle in the back of his truck so that he could ride it to work after dropping the truck off. As he started his trip he thought he might just look at that replacement part and how it was put on again. He didn’t want to be embarrassed when he got to the shop and have them tell him he put it on the wrong way. So he grabbed a wrench and socket, one 10 mm socket, and checked the turn signal. Well, he discovered he had put it on the wrong way and so he changed it to the right way. And instead of heading for the mechanic shop he headed off for work. In driving to work he came upon a fender bender accident and noticed that one of the people standing at the side of the road was a Doctor that he worked with at the hospital. He pulled over and asked if the doctor was okay and if there was anything he could do. She related that she was okay but she was probably going to have to cancel all of her appointments because the bumper on her Prius was just hanging onto the car and was not drivable in that condition. She was going to call a tow truck and have it towed away. My son looked at the bumper and noticed that it was just one bolt just holding it onto the frame. He looked at the bolt and thought I might be the same size as the one socket that he had in his truck. So he looked at the wrench and socket and it was the same size of the bolt and nut that was holding the bumper onto the Prius. So he loosens and takes off the bolt, took the bumper off the car and put the bumper the back of his truck. He then headed off to work and so did the doctor. Clearly the thought of always having tools in the truck or the car came in handy on this occasion. I say one cannot have enough tools and so I reminded myself to put a set of tools in my vehicles, just in case I break down. Most trucks and cars these days have so much computer influence it is not likely that anyone can fix a car. But there still are a lot of places that you can reach and you can fix before sending it to mechanic shop. I still use many of the same tools that my dad did. I also carry duct tape and a wire hanger. And to be sure I carry a flathead and Philips head screwdriver along with a wrench and socket set.
Pops

As I walked out on my front porch this morning, coffee in hand, I turned on the sprinklers to water the front yard. As I looked at the yard I spotted a few places where the grass just refuses to grow. I’ve made several attempts to grow grass in these areas and I have failed. Somehow this got me to thinking about the (GOP) grand old party, the Republican Party. Since I was eligible to vote the majority of my votes have been for Republican candidates and issues. I have on occasion voted for a Democratic candidate or even an independent candidate. And through the years I have watched the ups and downs of each political party. In the past it always seemed to me that no matter what the issue was, there was a time to put it to bed and go on to new and important issues.
That does not seem to be the case today. The Republican Party is talking about suing the President over Obama care. Seriously, that train has left the station. Let it go, get over it and start accomplishing something new in the Congress. It seems to me that the grand old party is shooting itself in the foot as it can’t get over losing the vote on Obama care, healthcare. This is such a huge issue that was debated and debated over and over again. There is nothing new to say about it. The leadership of the Republican Party just can’t seem to get over losing that issue. It is getting to a point of real embarrassment to the people like me. The fact that the Congress cannot get along on any real issue almost seems to be the rule in the past years. Luckily, it appears that one issue will get some attention after both houses of the Congress agreed to sweeping changes and funding in the Veterans Administration. Hurray, both the parties actually agree on something. I would rather see the debate and the agreement or disagreement on any of the new issues rather than go back to rehash Obama care.
Maybe it’s the tea parties influence on the Republican Party. Or is it that some old dogs cannot learn new tricks. Most of the representatives in Congress right now have been there for years and years. And maybe it’s because they fear losing their jobs that they continue to revisit the healthcare issue. What are they going to do after Pres. Obama leaves office? If you are going to hammer the President do so on a current issue of importance. No president is perfect and I believe that any person in public office should face the issues and answer for their views. But the Republicans just can’t get over losing on the issue of Obama care. At this point I wish the Republican Party would get out of the blame game and present some candidates who can relate to the Republican platform and still want to work with the Democratic Party to accomplish something while in session.
I don’t care if you want to blame the Democratic Party or the tea party or the Republican Party. Stop the blame game and start working on getting this country back on its feet. I think we have little to no pull when it comes to getting other countries and governments to work with us on their problems. My thought is to let those countries work it out. And whoever surfaces as the winner of the conflict, we the United States will work to establish communications and relations with that winner.
We need the views of the different political parties to help this country move forward. But forward doesn’t seem to be the direction of where were going. I hope that the grand old party will let go of the issue over Obama care and focus on the current issues. I would hope that the conservatives in the party start looking at the budget and concentrating on the programs that need to be discontinued. Not because those programs were unworthy when they were initiated, but that their issue has been addressed and the programs are no longer effective. The platforms of the Republican and Democratic Party as they are now written don’t really seem that far apart. So I look at the candidate and then their party affiliation. But the GOP has the same old candidates and their inability to let failures go and move on to current important issues makes them less likely my choice or my vote.
I know that my one vote is unlikely to change the result of any election. And I know it’s the Electoral College that elects the president not the voters. I also know that there are upstart political parties trying to make a difference. New parties like the Tea Party and old party’s like the Libertarian party. It may shock you but there’s even a Communist Party of the United States. I do not believe that any of those political parties have a chance of knocking out one of the bigger established parties, the GOP or Democratic Party. But I do believe that at the grass roots of the Republican Party there younger and less bias candidates who if selected could bring the Republican Party back into the mainstream of America. Currently, I believe that the GOP, Republican Party, is falling apart. And I think that those rich Americans that fund the Republican Party may find that they are looking for a new place to put their money.
So my thought today is that the GOP, Republican Party, should just let it go on the issue of Obama care. You fought a worthy battle, but you lost. Live with it, and down the road, try another approach. But right now you look like a bunch of babies crying because they did not get their way. Please, stop the crying and get back to work on the other major issues facing this nation. It may not bother you that you’re losing my vote but I think I’m somewhat a representative of the baby boomer generation that plans to be around for years and years and usually we are the kind of people you get your funding from.
Let it go, let it go, let it go.
Pops

As I walked out on my front porch this morning, coffee in hand, the clouds covered the sky and stopped the sunshine from reaching down upon the forest floor. Although this is not the way I like to start my morning, I am happy to see the cloud cover. Yesterday got up to 99° with 90% humidity. It was brutal and it caused me to stop working several times during the day causing me to come inside and cool down. While taking time to cool down I watched the news. I started out by watching professional golf on TV and fell asleep. Then I went to the velocity channel and watched some old versions of a show called Fantomworks, where they take old wrecked cars and make them look brand-new. So it wasn’t long before I ended up watching the news.
In the news was an article about a prison’s problem of executing the death penalty. As I watched there were those people who were upset about such an inhumane treatment. This is where I shake my head and think, you got to be kidding. It’s death and there is nothing humane about it. The people who receive the death penalty are not lightweight criminals. Usually the crime involves the taking of another person’s life. And the way they take a victim’s life many times is less than quick and painless. Yet there is no cry of how inhumane their crime is. To hear people say that they do not like the way the convicted criminal was put to death makes me shake my head and ask,” you do know that they’re putting the person to death”? Is the way that the death penalty is carried out supposed to be anything but a serving of justice. When there is a crime where a small child is sexually violated and then killed by the criminal, there seems to be no outcry of sympathy for the criminal. There shouldn’t be, those individuals are sick beyond repair and should quickly be put to death. The criminal justice system usually takes 15 years before executing the death penalty. This is even after years of the many reviews of the case thru the appeals process. During that time the criminal is given access to medical attention and the law library. If the criminal has health needs the state or the federal government provides the needed attention during all those years of being in jail and waiting for the execution date.
Lives are taken every day by criminals. Many times lives are taken by the very people that know the victim. What seems to be a “senseless crimes” such as gang violence continue to produce those candidates for the death penalty. I have been through the gambit of the legal system. It is not easy or automatic that a person who is the perpetrator of a crime which results in another person’s death is convicted of a crime. Usually there are several steps before there’s any real testimony taken from a victim or a witness to the crime. Many of the witnesses can be bullied by the defense attorney in the changing just a part of their statement as to what happened. Many times crime happened in just seconds and to absolutely have a clear-cut version of any circumstance is unusual. The use of forensic science to identify a perpetrator can also be challenged by the defendant’s right to have a forensic professional of their own to challenge the evidence. This professional is paid by the defense and can usually be found to dispute any evidence. Not because the evidence is not correct, but rather to put some sort of question in the mind of the judge or the jury. By the time a person has exhausted all the appeal processes it is probably 15 years from the date of the event. I’ve often heard that witnesses recant their statement. Usually it is because their memory has faded and a defense lawyer uses that as a part of the reasonable doubt defense.
I know there were people that had their convictions either pardoned or reversed. Not all are because the person did not commit the crime but because there was an error in the actual court proceedings and therefore the verdict was reversed. Usually by then the witnesses are nonexistent or are unable to clearly recall the event or the prosecuting attorney’s office does not want to spend the time and money that it would take to retry the case.
I think that once the death penalty has been adjudicated and pronounced, the sentence should be carried out within a three-year period if not less. So it does not matter how somebody is put to death, the fact is that the result should be death. If they suffer during the execution then that is part of the death sentence. Dead is dead, it is not injured or diseased they can be treated. The criminal is sentenced to the death penalty and the fact that there might be some pain during the execution seems irrelevant.
The person or persons that were killed by the criminal did not get the consideration of how humanely they died. Certainly the person that killed them and was convicted of the crime should not get the consideration of how they are put to death.
Whether you agree that the death penalty should exist or not, is another issue. But since the death penalty does exist in the issue of how humanely somebody is put to death is ridiculous and not relevant.
I do not like to talk about negative events in the world. But I was a policeman for many years and I had to deal with the families who suffered the loss of a loved one and the criminal who took the life. Usually the criminal is only sorry after he is convicted in court. The family lives on with the pain and emptiness of not having their loved ones around to enjoy life. The family of the criminal also will mourn the loss of the freedom of the convicted criminal and eventually his death. There are no real winners when a life is taken by a criminal act. But I strongly believe that those that commit the crime that takes a life and they are convicted of the crime that results in their receiving the death penalty, should be put to death within a three-year period. How they are put to death does not really matter. Death is death.
Pops

 

As I walked out upon my porch, coffee in hand, I was greeted by the low glow of light finding its way through the cloudy skies giving a kind of eerie appearance to the forest. Yesterday, I celebrated my 67th birthday. It was a grand day which included a fine breakfast cooked by my wife, a dairy queen desert at lunch and a delicious dinner at night. During the day I got to visit my favorite places like the Home Depot and Tractor Supply. I also received calls from my many family members congratulating me on my birthday. As corny as it may sound it does make me feel good when so many people take the time to call and wish me a happy birthday. During several of the conversations with my sons I stated that I did not feel like I was 67 years old. The image in my mind while growing up of somebody in their 60s was a very gray haired and somewhat physically impaired person.

I thought about why I had such a vision. I think that I might have somewhat of an answer to it. When I look back to the 20th century, let’s say 1910 in 1920, the life expectancy of most men was usually below 60 years old. If you look back at the century before that and a century before that the life expectancy of a man was even shorter. When they were pioneers traveling across this great country to find their new homes, the life expectancy there was just in your mid-30s. So I think that when I was a young man or even before that, a child, I did not see or hear of many men who live past the age of the 60s. There was always the occasional news article about someone reaching 80 years old. But many of the men who served during the World War II era had a much shorter lifespan. I think one of the big reasons was that everybody smoked cigarettes. It was a sign of growing up and being accepted by the adult environment. I would watch commercials on TV, movies and television with celebrities smoking a certain kind of cigarette. It was also during the 1940s up to the end of the century that the medical community made such great strides in the advancement of medicines that would extend life.

There was a life before computers and it included everything from; coal miners digging out coal from the earth, steelworkers forging steel to men walking precariously on metal frames of high buildings. Buildings in every school and business had asbestos and its walls and ceilings which exposed all children from the early age of kindergarten on to the end of a career. As the horseless carriage went away and was replaced by the automobile, more lives were taken on the highway than in many wars. After the era of prohibition it seemed like every working man would come home to drink some form of alcohol or and smoke a cigarette. Men and women both suffered from heart attacks due to clogged arteries without any real warnings from an attorney general. I believe life was so much harder, physically and mentally, for the men and women of the 20th century and those in the 21st century. I imagine this has been the story since the beginning of man’s time on this earth. And for my generation, the baby boomers, we witnessed that a senior citizen would be lucky to make it to the age of 70. And so I believe that is what created the image of a man in his 60s.

I know I’m not alone in feeling this way. When I talk to men and women of my age they also seem to say they can’t believe that at this age they would fell this good. While visiting my friend in Sacramento who is in his early 90s, he also found it hard to believe he was in his 90s and feeling so good.

The culture we live in today starts putting out the black balloons on your 40th birthday, sometimes on your 30th birthday. Although most of the time it is done in jest, the black balloons represent death. On many occasions I have received canes and walkers. When first receiving my AARP card I was taken aback by the fact that I’ve become a senior citizen. The humor associated with such gifts as black balloons is not received well by the person receiving the gift. I spoke of the bias against age in an earlier blog. And it certainly exists in the working world where your age will make you retire or leave your job. Pilots of commercial aircraft are usually made to retire when they turn 60. It is not because they show to be mentally or physically unable to perform the task, but some groups some where set the standard. There are other jobs that prevent you from even applying because of your age. It wasn’t until recently Los Angeles police department allowed a 60-year-old man to join the force.

I believe that most of this is happening because those standards and limitations were established many years ago. With the growing number of centurions living amongst us the focus should be taken off of the number of years that I have survived and put upon my existing capabilities and mental capacity. In the middle of the 20th century many men were expected to join the company and stay there for some 30 or 40 years. In today’s world the professionals are more likely to spend 2 to 5 years at a location before moving on. So rather than looking at an employee that you want to get 20, 30 or 40 years out of you can expect to get two to five years out that person. That to me puts the senior citizen back into the equation.

In another perspective of celebrating a birthday, it is a time to appreciate all those things that you’ve done to reach this age. I enjoy hearing my relatives sing happy birthday to me and I enjoy singing to them on their birthdays. Although I am surprised that I’ve made it to 67 I look forward to making it to 68. Happily when I’m 68 I look forward to making 69 and so on.. I believe that birthdays should be celebrated. I may find it hard to believe I am 67 but I’m in no rush to stop at 67. I know that when I was 21 I didn’t think I’d make it to live to be the right old age of 30. And then from 30 to 50 the years pass by so fast that they are almost a blur. These are the years you are usually raising a family and developing a profession to support that family. I don’t know what I expected originally when I turn 60, but I was still working at that point. I have celebrated my birthday in all types of styles and fashions. The one thing that seems to be constant as that comes way too fast and yet it is very much appreciated.

Happy birthday to the many other Leos out there, enjoy the day.

Pops