SeanSumner.blog

As I walked out on the porch this morning and was greeted by another 20° weather front, I decided to turn right back around and went into the house. Then I recalled my trip a few days ago where I should have turned around.

A few days ago I decided to make a trip to a location in Oklahoma to pick up the camper shell for my truck. The trip is about three and half hours long and uses both interstate highways and state highways. I began my trip by using a GPS device that would advise me when and where to turn and how long it would take to finish my trip. The weather was clear and the directions to my destination were equally clear. But the trip home was neither clear nor fun.

One of the faults that I have, and I am told most men have, is a distaste of asking for directions. In earlier days that meant pulling over to some sort of store or gas station and asking someone for directions to my destination. For some unknown reason I always felt I had a good sense of direction as long as I went in the direction, North South East or West, I would get to my destination. I can remember one incident in Houston where I was headed to the airport to pick up my son. During that trip I took the wrong freeway many miles out-of-the-way. Upon realizing that I made a U-turn and spent a long time trying to work my way back to square one. The embarrassing part about this story is that I had a Chevy truck that had OnStar and all I had to do was push a button and asked for directions. But no, I decided that all I had to do was go east and in doing so I went to several areas where I wish I was still carry my gun. I made sure my doors were locked. Rather than stop at a stop sign I would roll through it thinking that if I was pulled over by the police it would be a good thing. I would feel safer with the police at my location.

But let’s get back to a few days ago. I picked up my camper shell, which was put on the truck at the store and my truck was looking good. I then headed south towards Dallas expecting to make a Western turn before actually getting to Dallas. Since I had driven to the location without any incident I figured I didn’t need a GPS and I would just drive home via my memory. After about a half an hour on the road I realized I probably should’ve already made a turn West and the scenery around me was looking more like a city, I should still be driving in the country. After driving a little further, as I was driving into the suburbs of Dallas, I decided to pull over and get my GPS device out and program it to get me home. The problem with that is that I have not used the device a lot. Usually when traveling, I travel with my wife and she programs the GPS device. So after setting on the side of the road for some 15 minutes in total frustration I finally found an icon that says” home”. So I selected that icon and the GPS device produced a route home. I got back on I-35 and followed his directions. The directions given by the GPS device had me driving south on I-35. It wasn’t long before I found myself in stop and go traffic in downtown Dallas on a holiday weekend, Friday night, at 5 PM. The traffic was heavy with stop and go pogression. The good part was that Dallas is beautiful as it turns from day to night with all its tall skyscrapers. I had already used the truck phone several times to call my wife to tell her I was going to be delayed because I’d gone the wrong way. The GPS device would also give an estimated time of arrival. As I look at it the arrival time was now another four hours before I got home. This is very disconcerting to me as it only took me 3 1/2 hours to get to my location to begin with. While sitting in stop and go traffic I wondered if the GPS device had been reprogram since my move from the Houston area to an area in North Texas. So once again I called my wife and asked her where the GPS device had programmed the home location. She answered that we had not reprogram the GPS device and the home location was still in the Houston area. So the GPS device was trying to take me back to Houston. And in a feeling of total frustration I turned off the device. I did not want to try to get off of the freeway again to reprogram the device as I was in downtown Dallas and would be even more lost if I got off the freeway. Luckily I spotted a freeway sign that told me I was coming up on Interstate 30 which I knew would take me in the direction of home. Once on Interstate 30 I felt calm again and that I was only a couple hours from the house.

All of that frustration could’ve been avoided if I’d just asked for directions in the beginning. And so once again in my life I vowed to be better prepared and asked for directions. I find that with today’s large stores I have to do the same thing. I do not ask for directions. In the past, I would walk from one side of the large store to another side. What I found out was that not all Sam’s clubs or Walmart’s, or Home Depots are set up the same. And instead of spending half an hour walking around lost I have to start asking for help from the employees in the stores. I do not know why I find it so hard to do. But it is been a weakness of mine for years, to ask for help. And I guess that goes from driving my car, shopping for items or handling life’s ups and downs. I believe that there a lot of men and women, just like me, who are uncomfortable asking for help. But if they are blessed like I am, they will have a life partner like my wife who will either ask for directions or help me ask for directions..

So as the title of this blog is. I do not like getting lost, I also do not like asking for help. But once again I will promise myself to do so. There is nothing wrong with a U-turn but it is frustrating when there are several U-turns in one trip.

2014 is but a day away. I will strive to be a better person by asking for help. But if you are around me and I appear to forgotten that promise please remind me.

Pops

 

I walked out on my porch this morning, little later than usual; I gaze at the rising Sun and felt the warmth of its rays. A smile began to come over my face as I realize it’s December 24 and another goal is achieved.

By making it to December 24, I have achieved the goal of seeing another Christmas. Christmas is always been a blessed and wonderful day in each of the years of my life. As a child, Christmas meant that the house to be decorated and full of the aromas of Christmas food. There will be a decorated tree in the house and hopefully by December 25 many presents under that tree. My mother and father would take me to church and I would listen to the preacher and a Sunday school teacher talk about the real meaning of Christmas. Christmas celebrates the birth of Jesus Christ and the birth of a religious movement. But honestly, as a child it meant it was going to be a happy time and hopefully a spirit known as Santa Claus would visit our humble home and leave me some gifts. As I grew up I found December 24 to be one of most exciting anticipatory days of the year. I was filled with the spirit of Christmas and I began sharing that spirit with others even at a young age. It became important to me to give to others as well as receiving myself. Slowly but surely I found myself enjoying the moments of giving as much as the ones of receiving. Each December 24 I worked hard to make sure that I had presents for everyone in my life. I smile while remembering I made Christmas ornaments that I gave to my mom one year for our Christmas tree as my gift to her. I smile and remembering the hand-drawn picture I drew with a crayon and gave to my dad has his Christmas gift. I also smile in remembrance of the first time I went with a church youth group and bought some small Christmas gifts for what we called then the poor.

As I got to be a teenager, and realized that Santa Claus was not a person but a spirit, I became a little more cynical and my world became a little smaller. Now I wanted bigger gifts and I had to go get a job to be able to give gifts to just my immediate family. At first I found myself a little disappointed that I only had two or three wrapped gifts under the tree, when I was a smaller child there must’ve been 20. It was also during that time that I realize that the cost of those gifts was so much more than when I was little.  This was the first time in my life that I realized picking out a gift for someone was a little more complicated then drawing a picture of them in Crayola.

As I became a young man my world once again became larger, I still found December 24 to be an exciting day. Now not only was I finding it hard to buy gifts for the family but there are others, mainly girlfriends, in the picture. It was the first time that I started giving money to certain agencies like the Red Cross hoping that it would help them in this time of the year. By the time it came around to December 24 I was usually in a panic mode as I still hadn’t gotten all the presents I needed. During those days there were few shopping centers and you had to go to a downtown area to a department store to find that certain gift for that special someone in your life. It was my first exposure to walking past the perfume counter in a department store. I can’t say that it was pleasant but it wasn’t terrible either. I was just amazed at the price somebody would pay for a small bottle of perfume. By December 24 the sales were on, the crowds are big and the parking was impossible.

Then came my wife and children. They were all excited about Christmas. By December 24 the apartment, that was before I could afford a house, was filled with excitement. By this time all the presents had been bought, but I had to wait till late at night to help Santa put them together. That was my first exposure to foreign countries instructions on how to put together what was called the simple toy. So December 24 marks a day of accomplishment, the presets were bought and with a little more effort at the end of the day I was happy. I do not want you to think that I had forgotten about the real meaning of Christmas. I told the stories of Christ’s birth to my children and reminded them that it wasn’t just about presents. They listened and learned. I am proud to say today my sons carry on the tradition including the story about the birth of Christ. It was also during this time that I was a policeman in the city of Los Angeles and whether walking a beat or driving in a patrol car, I observed all those unfortunate souls who are not able to enjoy Christmas as I did. One of the most amazing sites to me was the number of homeless people, literally thousands of them, in the different areas of the big city of Los Angeles who tried to carry on the tradition of Christmas. You could observe them wearing a holiday hat and singing holiday song, many times in a language I did not understand. Some of the lone men, who were regularly in jail for alcohol abuse or drunk in public, actually look forward to going to the local jail to be able to receive a Christmas meal. The most hurtful view was that of the children many without parents who seem to move from place to place during the day and sleeping in cardboard condos at night. I was amazed at the many churches and social agencies who reached out to those people in the spirit of Christmas with everything from blankets to food and always with the reminder of the word of God. And at least on that day I did see some hope in the eyes of my fellow officers and in the mood of the city. Unfortunately December 25 did not seem to be as hopeful as of the day at December 24.

As the years went on and I advanced at my workplace, December 24 meant the end of all those office parties. In the beginning they might’ve been fun but the reality at the end was that you went to the party or else. Bosses and board directors always felt that it was supposed to be a fun time for the workers. But the reality is there’s a lot of pressure when you put coworkers in a social environment that is not work. Almost without fail every year some person, fool, what actually voice their opinion to the boss or the board. This is usually achieved with the use of alcohol. So in the later years the party would be advertised as a non-alcoholic event. But somehow, someway, someone would bring the booze and a poor fellow worker would fall upon the sword of what they really thought and then had to suffer through the rest the year. That’s why December 24 was a worthy goal to be achieved and surviving the office parties without causing problems. After December 24 most offices believe that it was family time and did not require the presence at a company party.

I would also like to mention that December 24 marks the next-to-last day of the continual playing of Christmas songs both on television and on the radio. Not that I do not like Christmas carols, but I really get tired of hearing jingle Bell rock performed by a variety of artists every 45 min. December 24 is usually the last day of television specials concerning Christmas, they were not necessarily a religious performance.

I appreciated making it to December 24. All the pressures of the season would have been achieved or by this time was  not going to happen. December 25 was a day to enjoy all the effort. It is a day to enjoy the birth of Christ in a church or religious setting and watch the Christmas Day parades with all the hard work that many people put into making me smile. December 25 is a day to enjoy family and all the surrounding experiences.

This is a day that I’ve rejoice by achieving another goal of making it to December 24. I look forward to many things during the year, but December 24 is one the important goals that I work hard to achieve. December 25 is a day that I enjoy and my heart and my eyes seem to swell up with tears every now and then watching the response of the young and the remarks of the old come together in a positive song.

Merry Christmas to all and congratulations for making it to December 24.

Pops

As I walked out upon the porch this morning and sit down to enjoy the view, I thought of the events of yesterday. The accomplishment of goals and the balancing of good and bad of the day.

I have been working for the last several weeks on converting a beer keg (1/2 size keg) into a small wood burning stove. With all the great intentions of this being a quick project I began by taking the keg out of the kegorator as it was empty had been so for a long time. Of course, I had paid $50 for the keg plus the cost of the beer when originally purchased. But now it was sitting in my shop, keg empty, for the last six months. Now, that the weather has turned cold. I wanted to have some heat in the shop so I can work during the day. I had a kerosene heater but the fumes from the heater made my eyes burn and made my clothing smell. The cost of a 5 gallon can of kerosene is $48, a very expensive item. So since I live on a tree farm it seemed only logical to me that I have a wood burning stove in the shop. So I went online and on craigslist to find wood- burning stoves. What I found was that people want a lot of money for even the worst looking wood-burning stove. Being that this is the winter time, it is just the wrong time to look for wood-burning stove. So I decided to see if I could use some of the existing items I have saved from prior projects to make my own wood-burning stove.

The first thing was what to use for the body of the stove. That’s when I thought about the keg. It is made of heavy duty aluminum and both on the top and bottom have a rather large lip to be able to be stable when sitting on the ground. Then I rummage through my small building on the property and found some old heavy duty stove piping that I had used on another project and had sense taken the project apart. I found I had enough 90° elbows and straight pieces to create a chimney pipe for the stove. I had decided to run the pipe through a window area. So I did have to go and buy an aluminum piece that was made to allow piping through a wall or roof. And so, I created a flat-panel with this piece so that the chimney pipe could safely run from inside to the outside of the shop. I broke out my grinder and try to cut straight lines for a door in the front of the keg. I must admit I didn’t do so well on one of the lines and it was a little crooked. The bigger challenge was to take the grinder and cut a hole in the back of the keg to allow the chimney pipe to run from the back of the keg to outside of the shop. The chimney pipe is round and so is the keg. So that meant the whole I was cutting look more like an elongated oval rather than a circle. I thought this would go off without a hitch. But when I put it all together I found my cutting edge was not as smooth as it should be and smoke started to come out from the edges where the pipe went into that keg. I think I spent the next three days trying to find a way to seal off that area and finally I found success by using a large number of sheet metal screws in the attachment of the pipe to the keg. I wasn’t done yet. I attached the crooked door to the keg and found that out some aluminum strips to fit around the edges so I did not cut my hand each time I reached into the stove. I also found some Eagle claw legs from an old bathtub I used to have. It took a day to figure out how to attach them to the bottom of the keg, to give it some character. Eventually it all came together. And I was able to use the wood-burning stove yesterday while outside the shop it was raining hard; inside the shop was toasty warm. This was the achievement of a worthy goal.  

Another goal was reached yesterday, and that was about the pond that I had dug out this summer. It finally filled up with water. There was about 2 inches of rain yesterday and that was enough to finally fill up the pond. I had been nervous about the filling of the pond as I had to make sure that when the pond was full it did not backup onto my neighbor’s property. I’ve contacted a water conservation specialist some months ago to use a laser beam in order to know where I should put the height of the overflow culvert. Mr. Powers came out to the pond area and use the laser to put some flags on where the water line should be when the pond was filled so as not to fill back up on my neighbor’s property. I had to wait for months for the pond to fill up. Little by little the rain came and slowly the pond began to fill. I was truly excited when the pond was filled and the water line came up to almost exactly where the flags that Mr. Powers had placed into the ground. This was the accomplishment of another worthy goal and part of my responsibility for the designation of my property is a tree farm.

But that was not the end of the day. I went inside the house that night to watch some of the programs that I usually record, only to find out that the Sony TV had lost its picture. Luckily it still had sound so I plan to move into the shop and use it like a radio. I have DirecTV and it has many channels that are strictly music. To continue on, I found myself nursing a toothache. I don’t know about you but I hate going to the dentist. Up to now my tooth would hurt for one day and then go away the next. This happened without much pain until yesterday. I know that I will have to go to the dentist but like many people I am booked for next week, it is the holidays. Luckily today there is no pain I hope it will stay that way until after the first of year. To finish off yesterday, during the night electricity went off and made several attempts to come back on until which finally happened about 6 AM in the morning. The problem with that is that several of the lights throughout the house are on a remote control for both the light and the fan. When the power is cut off and then brought back on the lights come on. This happened several times before I realized that I had to turn off the wall switch to stop this from happening. I don’t know about you but after I get up several times during the night and I have to do something which puts my brain into action, what little brain there is, I find it hard to go back to sleep. And yesterday being the longest night of the year. I was glad to finally see the light of day so I could get out of bed and see what was going on.

And so there you go the accomplishment of two worthy goals plus some up and downs for the day. All in all it was a great day. And it keeps me excited about what is yet to come. I did not think that I would learn to get accustom to not working (having a job). But now, even with all the medications, I find my day full activities and I seem to get busier and busier.

Those are my thoughts for the day from the porch to you.

Pops

 

 

As I walked out on the front porch this morning I heard the thunder rolling and watched the lightning flashing. I decided to go back inside the house to drink my coffee. In doing so I felt that there was something missing in this picture. Something was just not right. It wasn’t because of the weather and the house seemed to be in proper order. So I sat down in my large living room, in my overstuffed chair, and looked at the unlit Christmas tree. I had already let the dogs outside the house and they were already at the window ready to come inside away from the rain. I walked to the kitchen cabinet and got my Pop Tart. As I prepared to pour another cup of coffee, I put the Pop Tart in the toaster. I looked around the kitchen and all seem to be in order. The counters were clear, save for my coffee maker, but there was still something missing.  As I let the dogs in, two York Shire Terriers, they seemed to run around the house with great excitement. They seemed to search for something that was not there. A loud clap of thunder made one of the dogs bark at the sound. I looked out and watched the rain coming down. Other than the sound of the rain and the dog barking it was quiet. I then looked at where the house computer sat and something was missing, but all appeared in order. I then went to the back room (the blog room) and let the big dogs inside. Again all looked in order as the dogs looked around as if in a search for something else. I finished my coffee and my Pop Tart and began to get dressed, to go out to the shop. As I walked into the closet all seem to be in order and yet as I got dressed for the bad weather there still something missing. Before going outside and I turned on the TV and watch the news. C BS Good Morning is one of the programs I watch. On the show was a singer, Evan Neville, who gave a soft rendition of several Christmas carols. I smiled as I listen that the song but there was still something missing.

After listening to the Christmas carols started to feel a little melancholy. I reviewed my morning routine and quickly realized what was missing. Usually when I get up in the morning I try to be quiet so I do not disturb my wife. I go outside on the porch and to look at the beautiful scenery. That is also an effort to not disturb my wife from sleeping. While on the porch I can clank my cup, I can cough without worrying about it waking up my wife. When I walked into the living room from the porch I observed, next to a chair, several items that I associate with my wife’s sitting there. When I went to the kitchen to get my Pop Tart, I thought about my wife purchased a large box of Pop tarts so that I would have enough while she was gone. I looked at the kitchen counters I envision them with pots and pans on the stove with several items skewed along the counter that was used to make last night’s dinner. When I let the dogs inside the house they were looking for the person who lets them sit in her lap and gives them treats in the morning. When I looked at the house computer area I think of how my wife keeps in touch with all the family through the social media that she uses. That keeps me in touch with the family which I need.  When I went to the closet to get dressed to go outside, I noticed that my wife had made sure that I had plenty of clothing to wear while she was gone. The Christmas carols that I listen to on the television made me look at our Christmas tree, and I envisioned my wife placing all the decorations on the tree and plugging in the electrical cord every night to make sure the Christmas spirit was in our house.

Yesterday, I spent most of the day going in and out of the house from the shop. Each time I entered the house I took off my shoes or boots. This was not done as a part of any religious practice but rather to try to keep the dirt for my shoes out of the house. The place that I do this at his right next to a window that looks directly into the kitchen. I usually can find my wife busy in the kitchen while I come in and out of that door. And several times yesterday while walking from the house to the shop I could have sworn I heard her call my name. Each time I would quickly look around to see where she was at only to realize she was not there. While I was in the shop I would constantly look at the extension phone to make sure that I did not miss a call from my wife. As usual I must’ve been man looking as I miss several calls. I use the term man looking because my wife introduced me to the term. There so many times when I would tell her I could not find something she went to the same area and found the item. After doing so she would laugh and tell me” you must’ve been man looking”

I am a man who enjoyed his privacy. And usually several times a year my wife will go off to be with the family to represent both of us. I believe she brings the personal touch to the many people who are important in our lives. I find it hard to do so but I sure am happy when she does.

By now I’m sure you realize that the reason that there was something missing in this pitcher is because my wife is not there to fill it. She is so much a part of my everyday life that when she’s not here the picture is not complete. In each of the pictures I described earlier in this blog the missing part of the picture was that she is not there. And I hear her call my name because it is what I want to hear. For a so-called loaner I sure need her in my life. And I write this blog today because it is easier for me to write it then to sometimes tell her and others that I feel. I am sure there is someone like her in your life. If not find someone. It will make your life full and fill all the pictures that are your world.

I know that soon she will be back and she will relay all the stories of her visit. I’m sure she will have many pictures of the family on her phone. And we will sit and gaze at them all. So when she gets back all the missing part of the picture will be filled again with the wonderful person who is my wife.

Pops

As I walked out on my porch this morning, hot chocolate in hand, I thought back about a phone call I got from one of my sons last night. He had read the blog I wrote yesterday and he reminded me of a title that I did not mention in my blog. He thought it was important that I remember the title and he was right. So I’m going to tell the story of Uncle Smackaroni.

Some 25 years ago but, as many of my nieces and nephews were still very young, I became Uncle Smackaroni. I’m really not sure how I came up with the name but am going to give it a try. Somehow in my memory in the cartoon world there is a reference to a kiss as being smack on the lips. I can remember visiting one of my nieces as she was very ill and in the hospital. It was always a custom to give my children, my nieces and nephews a hug and a kiss when I first greet them

While visiting my niece I stated to her “give your uncle a smackaroni”. She looked at me with puzzlement. So I quickly explained that a smackaroni was a kiss. She looked up from a hospital bed with a large smile and said okay. I continued that practice of calling a kiss a smackaroni so much, and the children were so young, they began to call me Uncle Smackaroni. And soon I would even implore my wife to give me a smackaroni as well. The word smackaroni seem to the popular with the family. Pretty soon as I came into the room I was announced as Uncle Smackaroni. Even today some 25 years later I am referred to as Uncle Smackaroni. And if perchance I start to leave the house without giving my wife a kiss she will exclaim, “Where is my smackaroni?” I wear the title of Uncle Smackaroni with pride. I believe it was given to me with great affection and each time I am called Uncle Smackaroni I smile. Even some of my grandchildren know what a smackaroni is. So I offer this short blog to you to introduce you or remind you of a smackaroni.

A Smackaroni is a kiss and I was and still am Uncle Smackaroni.

POPS

As I was sitting on my porch this morning, coffee in hand, I was preparing for the departure of my wife. She was headed down south to a gathering of the family. We both could not go on this trip so she is representing both of us. We started yesterday by cleaning out and washing the truck. She then started packing the truck with gifts that she had wrapped that day. She also placed all the change of clothes that should cover the five day trip. At this point I am the husband, uncle and grandfather who stayed at home.

I thought about this and all the different names, titles or hats that I wear just by being alive. I’m going to review some of those titles, not in an order of importance but rather as it strikes my mind. First, I am Steve, a 66-year-old white man with minimal health issues and the self-image that refuses to be old. I never really met my grandparents so it is not know what they would’ve called me. But my mom and dad, when they were alive, call me Stephen. If I was in trouble they use my complete name, first middle and last. While I was working I was called Officer Sumner or Detective Sumner or just Sumner. Police departments, like the military, tend to call you by your last name rather than your rank or your first name. So who was I? To some people I was a good guy. When they were in trouble and needed help I was there to do so. To others I was the fuzz, heat  (many names I will not use) or PoPo. I was a hero by the first group and hated by the second group. I was a collector of facts in the court or a liar in the minds of the family of the arrestee.

I also was Steve the husband. Although my wife does not use my name Steve as often as some sort of pet name, like sweetheart or honey. Of course if I’ve done something wrong she, like my parents, uses my full name. After my marriage I became Uncle Steve. To some of my nieces and nephews I was a positive person in their life. To others I was a very strict and grumpy old man who just happened to be a family member. Of course I was a brother, big brother, to my siblings. I was the oldest of four children and therefore called big brother, now I weigh so much the title is just. To my mom and dad I was their son. And they lovingly called me that until the day they left this earth. To my children I am pops, or dad. And have been called those names since they could talk. I’ve never been called Steve by my children, but their wives many times call me Steve. I am a father-in-law and uncle in law. As I’ve gotten older I become Mr. Sumner. I always associated that name with my dad. I considered it a name of respect and so begrudgingly accept the title of Mr. Sumner. When I was working I was the employee or later on the boss. They use of my name Steve and Mr. Sumner in accordance with occasion I was present at.

I bring up all these names, titles or hats because even though I am one person I am all of these. I always found it amazing, while listening to the news or working with the police department, the use of different titles when describing a person. I have arrested people for murder only to find out in court that they were:” my son, a dad, a dedicated husband, a person who would give their shirt off their back for you, a mom, a wife, a gentle soul or a good person.” It depended on who you are asking.

I have only mentioned a few of the names or titles that I, like you, possess. Lately, I’m called a disabled veteran, a senior citizen or Pops. Each of the names or titles have a special meaning. Some of them are good, some are bad and some have no real meaning at all. To the store I am the customer, to the return desk I am a complaining customer. Even though I could say that words do not hurt me I would be lying. I am proud of some of the names and titles and I am saddened by what others call me. When I look at myself I am a man of many names, titles and hats.

During this time of the season I am Santa and like many of you out there I enjoyed the season of giving. So I will end this blog with that title and say “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.”

Pops

As I walked out on my front porch today, my hot chocolate in hand, I was filled with a feeling of relief. A few days ago I went to see a doctor at a clinic. My experience with clinics has not always been a good one. In major cities, and their suburbs, clinics seem to be as overcrowded as going to an emergency room at hospital. And when you finally got to see a doctor the doctor rarely looked at you as he was talking to you. He’s usually looking at a computer and following the documentation of any prior visit or taking a survey of your medical history. I do remember only one doctor at a clinic who would take the time to look at you when you spoke to him and he seemed to have time to listen to me. Of course before you see any doctor you first see a clerk who checked on your insurance plan and then a nurse. The nurse would take the usual blood pressure and temperature and then going to the survey of your medical history before allowing you to see the doctor. Many times the nurse and the doctor asked the same questions. I suppose it has to do with the financial side of the medical profession. I’m sure they take into consideration what is covered by your insurance while also diagnosing your condition and recommending a treatment. In the past 10 years the medical profession has gotten so impersonal that I feel like just another number who they put into a recognized category. Another problem with these clinics and doctors were that they never seem to see you at our near your appointment time. Let’s say you have an appointment at 10:30 AM. The doctor probably would not see youuntil 11 AM, if you are lucky. This was the kind of experience I had gotten used too.

Well, all that changed in the last visit I had to a clinic in the small town in Texas. To begin with the waiting room was clean and neat. It was not overcrowded and actually had televisions in the waiting room that you could hear. There was also a restroom in the waiting area that was clean and convenient. Of course the first person you walk up to behind the window is again a clerk. But the clerk seemed happy to see me and quickly found my file so I could go ahead and wait for the doctor. A nurse called me into the back examination room on the appointment time. She performed the preliminary blood pressure and temperature check on me and then, without looking into a computer, asked me how I was feeling and if there is anything that I wanted to tell her the doctor before the doctor got there. She did go through the usual medical history form, but while doing so she would take the time to look at me as I answer the questions and make sure I understood the question. Then she said the doctor would be in to see me in a few minutes. That would usually mean 15 to 20 min. looking around the small room and medical drawings, pictures of the doctor’s children and medical brochures. But this time within just a few minutes the doctor walked into the room he took the time to introduce himself and shaked my hand. He brought with him I woman holding a computer who sat down in a chair behind the doctor without saying a word. I then introduced myself to this woman and ask her who she was. She said she was a scribe and was there to take notes for the doctor. At first I thought of a scribe as a person in ancient times who took notes of whatever their leader would say. But what this did was allow the doctor to talk to me and to listen to me without moments of him typing my answers or filling in the blanks on a computer. During my visit with the doctor he seemed actually listen to what I had to say. At one point I said I was sorry to take some much time, the doctor answered “ take your time I would rather hear what you have just say they miss anything”. For the first time in a decade I felt like an important person who had a friend in front of me who actually cared about how I felt what I was thinking. The doctor spent about 20 min with me while the scribe continued to take notes. The complete visit to the clinic was a pleasant one. I was in and out on time I felt that the doctor that I worked with understood why I was there and took the time to listen to my concerns.

From this experience I think that medical offices especially doctors should engage the use of a scribe. I’m sure this means in an expense, but I’ll bet it works out in the overall budget. The doctor can concentrate on his/ her patients and their condition and less time trying to type into a computer. I’m sure that the scribe is very familiar with all the forms what needs to be put in each form and the scribe, after working with the doctor for a while, will put the correct information in the medical records. Imagine a doctor’s visit with the doctor is not always looking at a computer or down at a form while trying to talk to you. Imagine that he looks at you during your visit. He is able to talk to you and ask questions while the scribe is taking notes of how you answer a question. I think the body language is important when you’re trying to get information from a person. They may say one thing but it doesn’t take long for you to see that their body language is saying something else.

So if you’re in the medical profession or the next time you see your doctor mention the use of the scribe. It may have been used in ancient times but I think it’s time that they come back in use and be a part of today’s medical team.

Pops

Compromise

As I walked out on the porch this morning, my hot chocolate and hand, I looked out at the decorations that we put on the porch. I thought about the compromise that I and my wife made on what should go where. It is not a big deal but compromise is needed in all facets of life.

As I watch the news today I noticed that there was a compromise announced concerning Congress and the budget for the country. I, like many Americans, am tired of the bickering among the members of Congress. I am hopeful that this recent announcement about compromise is a sign that the Congress of the United States of America has learned its lesson. I found it interesting that one of the people announcing the compromise was Senator Cruz. Who to me has always appeared as the poster child for non-compromise. I can only believe that this is an effort to change the image of the Republican Party and Senator Cruz’s. I’ve been a lifelong member of the GOP – Republican Party. But after recent events I find myself not wanting to support the party any longer. Compromise must be a tool of every Congress member and every president. Nelson Mandela certainly has been an inspiration to the world. I believe that his use of the tool of compromise was a part of his greatness.

Compromise is a part of our everyday life. From childhood to adulthood you and I have used the tool of compromise. To get a bicycle I had to make a compromise and deliver papers for a year to get the bike. I am surprised that the word compromise is not used in wedding vowels. Cause certainly the institute of marriage demands compromise on a daily basis. Do not confuse compromise with situation ethics. Situation ethics would allow you to do bad things that you would not normally do. For example, if you are out of food and had no money would you steal or even rob to get the food. Situation ethics would say yes, due to the situation. Compromise is the giving of all parties, a concession of initial demands to be able to accomplish a goal. Compromise is used every day in our courts of law. Even though the laws of the land are in black-and-white each judge makes a decision which usually involves compromise.

I think that politics is a noble career and that it takes a special person to be involved in it. When you are in politics your personal life is public. It is hoped that as a politician you will listen to all sides from the people who voted for you, to the people who did not vote for you. Clearly compromise must be a part of the everyday decisions of the running the government. It appeared that in recent past the GOP – Republican Party and the Democratic Party lost sight of compromise. I am tired of the name-calling and the demonization from one party to the other. No side in an argument is always 100% right. Because what is right and wrong really is in the eyes of the beholder. It was during the time that I was a police man working the streets of Los Angeles that I began to realize the power of compromise. Whether it was trying to talk somebody out a suicide or get someone to peacefully go to jail, I had to compromise. As a rookie cop I would to say what a lot of young parents say “because I said so”. It doesn’t take long where you are raising children or stepping in on an argument, there has to be compromise. I can remember responding to a house on numerous occasions where the man and the woman had caused such a ruckus that the police were called. I found myself trying to resolve a couple who had been together for over 30 years when I was not even 30 years old. Each time I drove up on the house I knew that after I calmed them down from yelling at each other I would use compromise to resolve the situation and hopefully keep them from going to jail. I can also recall on several occasions tried to talk someone out of suicide by using compromise to resolve the life-threatening incident.

It is beyond me to understand Congress inability’s to use compromise. I’m sure if you talk to each one of them individually they would tell you they use compromise all the time. But as neither  you or I are privy to the inner workings and communications of the Congress all we can do is watch the results. I think the grand old party is in trouble. The techniques of the past (as in Eisenhower and Nixon era) have turned into hard-liner stances. The rise of the tea party was started with what I thought was a good purpose. But those that rode that wave into office somehow left compromise behind. It was, “ their way of the highway”. I am tired of listening to the GOP still trying to derail Obama care. That battle has passed; it is as if they want a two out of three game. I say that was a loss for the GOP hard-liners. Put on your big boy and girl pants shake off the loss and go forward with new ideas.

As far as I am concerned I hope the GOP find some new faces and use a new philosophy of compromise. That does not mean that you give up on all your ideals and convictions. It just means we must go forward and cannot be deadlock in Congress. Senators like Senator Cruz needs to disappear from the front lines of the party. Even in my mind, at the present time Senator Cruz is not an asset to the party. There are few others that rode the wave of the tea party conservatives. I believe that in time and experience they will learn to use compromise as a tool to achieve their goals. But they need to step back for a while, if reelected, and work with the GOP to gain the confidence of people like me.  They once had that.

I have not made up my mind on which candidates to support in the next national election. I think the GOP should be nervous that a 66-year-old male white voter who has, since the age of 21, voted for the GOP is now unable to wholeheartedly support the party. I will look with great concern at what is next. As elections go the next national election will also affect local elections. I hope the leadership of the GOP will listen to a single voice like mine. I have been a family member of the GOP all my voting life, but the actions current GOP elected officials has become distasteful for me.

Pops

Who is that?

As I walked out on my porch this morning and sit down holding my warm cup of coffee, I looked out upon the forest. I thought about the changes that had occurred in this view. Not so long ago the forest was green and full of leaves on the trees. Then the forest leaves turned into many beautiful colors. And now the leaves lay on the forest floor mostly brown and dead. This brought me to think about how much I’ve changed and how much the environment around me has changed.

It seems like not so long ago I was sitting on the couch with my brother and two sisters, all of us young adults. Our faces were full of smiles with the thought of bright futures ahead of us. I look at a picture of this time where it shows my brother and two sisters sitting with me on a couch. I’m going to show you this picture. In background of showing this picture, it should be noted of where I was at in life. I had been a Los Angeles police man (that was still back in the day when a badge could read police man or policewoman) I just come out of patrol and was assigned to the vice unit in the San Fernando Valley. This was the first time in my life that I grew long hair and a beard. Prior to this, even in high school, I maintained short hair and clean face to allow myself to participate in the many activities at the school. In those days young men were clean-shaven with short hair that was until the Beatles came along at which time the schools allowed longer hair.

The Los Angeles police department only allowed officers to work divisional area vice units, that is to say that the officers who worked in the local divisions or precincts, for 18 months. I don’t know if they thought that this kind of assignment would make an officer go to the dark side if they work their longer. And so for the first time in my life I grew longhair and a beard. The hours I worked varied from day-to-day. It allowed me my first up close view of such activities as; prostitution, gambling, pornography, child pornography, horse racing and lewd conduct in public. I would have considered myself a very naïve white boy from a small Midwest town. Suddenly I was dumped into a world of use the abuse of human beings. I had been raised in church and so my morals were high and my view of those who engage in vices were that they were despicable.  During this assignment I found myself changing my views and being less optimistic about the plight of men and women. I discovered that prostitution, which is has been around forever, was not a victimless crime. Young men and women, when I say I talk about young I talk about 14 to 16-year-olds, would leave their homes in a search to be independent. Many claim to come from homes of abuse while others just came to California to become a movie star. I’ve even talked to young men and women who had come from other countries to Southern California in hopes of becoming rich and famous as a movie star. Within months or even weeks the children found out what it was like to live on the street. This caused them to do many things as they were not proud of, the most common was prostitution. After each arrest, if the arrestees would speak to me, I would ask them how they got to this moment. The story covers all social and economic variances. But all of their stories involved abuse from the people who handle them on the street. Call them pimps call them madams; their methods all seemed the same. I also found out that a majority of the population likes to gamble. California, at that time, had few places for people to go and gamble. There were a few card casinos around the city. If you want to gamble had a go to Nevada. Not everyone could afford to go to Nevada and I found myself watching people roll dice on the street corners and in the alleys. I would be kicking down doors of so-called high-stakes poker games in the garage of working men and women. However, I also found that failure to the unwritten rules would result in broken bones, torched cars and ransacked homes. The most disgusting part of that assignment concerned lewd conduct in public places and child pornography. I do not know if I will ever get over the disgusting parts that assignment. I arrested hundreds of people for lewd conduct in a public park. Their occupations covered almost every occupation there is; from priest to the president of the company. There were even the arrest of a policeman and then a fireman and then the teacher. On one day I arrested city bus driver who left his bus full of riders on the street with the bus running while he ran into the public bathroom performed a lewd conduct, which he was arrested for. I had to call the city bus company and asked them to send another driver to take the bus and its riders to their destinations.

I can understand why the department kept the assignment in vice to 18 months. A good friend of mine who also worked child pornography took his own life at the end of his assignment. I knew that I wanted out of the assignment at the end of 18 months.

I mention all of this to try and give you a picture of what my life was like at that time and hope you appreciate all the other police officers will work in those same areas. I was then a changed man and this began my complete distrust of all humans. It took several years for me to get out of that frame of mind. There are many good people in our communities and they too fight the same vices as I did.

So let me get back to the picture that I’ve shown you. My face is still full of hope and confidence and I thought I was a snappy dresser by wearing white pants and a maddress shirt. The shirts are actually popular for a while. I would also show you a picture of me two years after the first picture but I could not find any. All I have been told was I was in a dark mood and I looked a lot older.

Note – when I started this blog my son told me that this would be therapeutic for me. I have rarely shared my police stories with anyone. So this is a step in that direction.

Pops