Harris Teeter

Yesterday, I looked on-line for a video game and found that it was available at Wal-Mart.  After an eight mile drive, I was told if it's not in the display cabinet, we don't have it.  My comment that I just looked on-line didn't help.  "Oh, on-line information is usually wrong."  Then she walked away.  In my opinion, while some Wal-Mart employees are personable and helpful, most are extremely over paid.

On the other hand, good customer service does exist.  Below is the feedback I sent to Harris Teeter.

No one was around the produce department at Cary Place when I stopped by to pick up my fruit tray at 3:00 p.m.  on December 4.  A man from the Deli took my copy of the order and went to look for the right person.  A few minutes later, a woman, who I learned later was Angel McGee, the Store Manager, came over to me and explained they had misread the order and thought the pickup was at 4:00.  She saw that I was distressed.  I explained I have 20 people coming for a party at 4:30 and I don’t have time to come back.

She said not to worry, they would deliver it.  And because it was their mistake, it would be free.  Before my party started, the fruit tray was delivered with two additional containers of fruit and a potted poinsettia.

Many organizations claim to promote excellent customer service, yet fail to deliver.  Harris Teeter turned a mistake into an opportunity to delight a customer.  I told everyone at the party about Harris Teeter and I will continue to tell this story.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

A Different Thanksgiving

We went to the beach for Thanksgiving and decided to have Thanksgiving dinner at Flannigan’s, a casual, sports bar, rather than go to a fancy place.  Our table wasn’t ready so we sat at the bar with a drink.  A young (to us) couple was sitting next to us, and I struck up a conversation with the man.  The waitress told us our table was ready.  While I was paying the bar bill, Aloma was seated in a booth right behind me.  I paid the bill and started wandering around looking for her.  She mentioned to the couple at the bar I went the wrong way - so the man went looking for me and guided me back to Aloma.

Then Aloma asked them to join us at our table and they accepted.

We learned they were from Lebanon, now living in Columbus, Ohio, ran a Jewish Deli and had two children in their twenties.  Over twenty years ago, Joe opened the Deli and went back to Lebanon for a visit, met his wife-to-be and married her two weeks later.  They were interesting and positive about life and this country.  We had a great time with them.  Oh, while they run a Jewish Deli, they’re not Jewish.

The Deli must be successful because they recently bought an oceanfront condo and were here to buy furnishings for it.

I forgot to mention, Thanksgiving dinner was delicious.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Too Much Information

How can a man say he has too many women in his life?  It happened to me.

We were driving to a new destination (for us), guided by our GPS Garmin.  Aloma also had her iPhone 6+ set  for the same destination.  At one intersection, the female voice from the Garmin said to turn left.  The female voice from the iPhone said to go straight.  Aloma shouted, “I know where we are.  Turn right.”  Three female voices were shouting at me to turn, but in different directions.

What did I do?  I pulled over to the curb and stopped the car.  I asked Aloma to turn off the iPhone.  We would use the Garmin for direction.  She got the hint, turned off the iPhone and was quiet.  We arrived at our destination in minutes.

The iPhone gave us a chuckled on the Interstate.  It announces trouble ahead, like debris in the road, an accident or a car on the shoulder.  It suddenly announced, “Antelope on the side of the road.”  A minutes later we saw a dead deer on the shoulder.  Too bad for the deer but we both had a good laugh.

Seasoned Man

Stevelem117@gmail.com

The Phoenix Rises

I enjoyed the soccer game of my grandson, Ben, last week and thought of the following description of the game on my drive home.  Maybe the grandfather of another player would write it differently?  So what.  This is the way I remember it.

Under the bright lights, the wispy fog drifting across the pitch during a damp November evening, the Raleigh Charter School faced an epic struggle to advance to the third round of the Sectional Soccer Tournament.  Fifteen minutes into the game, without a score, concerned Coach Grosso looked to his bench for a solution, calling for number 27, midfielder, freshman Ben Balint-Kurti.  

Ben immediately changed the flow of the game with good defense, precision passing and two excellent shots on goal.  Ten-minutes later, Raleigh Charter was up by two goals.

With the starters back in for the second half, the team sputtered.  Coach Grosso didn’t wait, sending in his freshman midfielder.  After another display of effective passing, the Phoenix scored two goals, icing the game, assuring a trip to round three of the tournament, exciting the supporters filling the bleachers.

The legend of the Phoenix was verified again for Raleigh Charter, thanks to the excellent play of Ben Balint-Kurti.

Grantland Rice   a.k.a. Grandpa Steve

Seasoned Man

Stevelem117@gmail.com

Stated Fair III

Aloma and I visited the North Carolina State Fair in Raleigh several years ago.  Last year after we moved to Cary, I realized the fair was only twenty minutes away.  I decided to go again.  While Aloma enjoyed the fair once, she had no interest in going back.  So last year I went by myself, walked around and watched people for a couple of hours and decided I was going to make this an annual event.  After all, the price was right - free for seniors.

This year, I picked a sunny, crisp day for my visit.  Crowds were above average, making my people watching even more fun.  Families, couples and disabled groups were everywhere.  Teens seemed to be arriving just as I was leaving.  I visited a grist mill, a forge, a glass blower and made the rounds to see the animals and plants.  A crowd gathered for the black angus judging.  Someone pointed out the odds on favorite to win - and they were right.  The biggest sweet potato was 9.17 pounds.  Yeah!  No chickens were on site because of bird flu in the midwest.

Food concessions took up most of the space.  Every imaginable type of food was available, most of it from two food groups, fat and sugar.  Most people were munching on something.

A gospel group of six musicians and singers entertained many of us outside a small chapel.  The best music was by a bluegrass trio,  A young woman played a lively violin and sang beautifully.  I had picked up a cup of ice cream churned by John Deere engines and sat listening to the bluegrass music.

The North Carolina State Fair is definitely an annual event for me  God willing, I’ll be back next year.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Huge Relief

The purpose of my blog is to share what it’s like to age through my 70s and, if I’m lucky, through my 80s.  As I age, much of my time is spent just attempting to stay healthy.

Aloma is taking part in Duke’s Tommorrow Study researching Alzheimer’s disease and they test her memory every 6 months, so she thought it would be wise for me to take a screening test for Alzheimer’s.  I agreed and scheduled a test with my primary care doctor.

The test only took 15 minutes and I flunked it, or at least I didn’t so well.  My doctor said the test indicated I have “Mild Cognitive Impairment.”  He recommended a comprehensive mental exam that would last five hours.  He scheduled the exam, but couldn’t get me in for two months.

I was taken by surprise by the results of the screening tests and was devastated.  My greatest fear is dementia that incapacitates me.  I would be a burden to Aloma and maybe require a nursing home that would drain our resources.  I would rather be diagnosed with terminal cancer.

For two months, the results of the screening test and the upcoming exam were on my mind.  I was a nervous wreck when I finally walked into the psychologist’s office.

The exam consists of more than 15 separate test, mainly for memory.  A few were easy, others were close to impossible.  I tried to relax and do my best.  Dr. Harris was personable and encouraging.

The bottom line - I passed and with flying colors.  The doctor said I have no indicators of Alzheimer’s and have a memory better than most others of my age and education.  I asked him if I should return for a follow-up exam in the future, and he said no follow-up was necessary.  I should be fine.

The 100 pound weight I had been carrying on my shoulders suddenly disappeared.  I never felt so relieved.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

A Surprise Offer

We are blessed in North Carolina living in a state with both mountains and seashore.  During July, we left 90 degree temperatures and drove for three hours to reach an elevation of nearly 4,000 feet and temperatures in the 70s.  What a gift!

Last week we drove three hours in the opposite direction and reached an elevation of 0 feet, but with a beautiful ocean and cool breezes.  Taking long walks on the beach and swimming in the ocean were so much fun.  Just in case sharks were nearby, I swam near some rather plump people.  I figured that sharks would prefer them to me because I am kinda bony.

One morning I walked alone to a pier about thirty minutes away.  I planned to walk out on the pier and enjoy the view.  As I was going up the stairs to the pier, a woman was coming down.  Her hair looked like it hadn’t been combed in days.  Her clothes were old and stained and she wore ragged sneakers without socks.  I assumed she was a street person.

I asked her, “Do they charge to walk out on the pier?”

She said they did.  The cost was $2.00.  I told her that was too much for me and turned around and headed back down the stairs.  What she said next left me speechless.

“Sir, if you don’t have $2.00, I’ll pay for you.”

I told her I had $2.00 but didn’t think a walk on the pier was worth it.  I thanked her profusely and then we walked away in different directions.

Months ago a woman offered to buy me a $1.00 belt at a Goodwill Store because she thought I didn’t have any money.  I don’t know if I look destitute or I’m just fortunate enough to encounter generous people.

I do know life is full of wonderful surprises.

Seasoned Man

Stevelem117@gmail.com

Who's On First

Grandson, Ben, is one of three freshman selected for the soccer team for his new high school. I showed up for his third game, sat in the large bleachers and looked for Ben.  I don’t yet have my prescription glasses since my cataract surgery, and the sun was low and in my eyes.  I couldn’t spot Ben.  Finally, after the team in white scored and I cheered, I asked the people behind me if the team in white was Woods Charter School.  They explained that the other team in dark jerseys was Woods.  They had seen me cheer so I smiled and said, “Boo!”  They all laughed.

The team in white scored again.  I turned to the people behind me and said that I liked it better when I was pulling for the white team.  They laughed again.

A few minutes later, Peter showed up.  I told him I couldn’t find Ben.  He pointed to number 27 sitting on the white team’s bench.  “But that’s not Woods Charter,” I responded.  

Peter smiled.  “Ben goes to Raleigh Charter.”

I turned again to the people behind me.  “My grandson goes to Raleigh Charter.  I’m for the white team after all.”  They sorta laughed but looked at me like I should be institutionalized.  

The white team won, 6-3, and grandson, Ben, played a lot and did very well.

I hope I never see the people behind me again.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Deer 4 - Steve 0

For the last 50 years I’ve had a summer vegetable garden.  When possible, I had a large garden with many varieties of vegetables, always including tomatoes.  We don’t have space for a real garden in our new home, but we added a mulch bed on the bank in the back yard, perfect for a few tomato plants - or so I thought.  I wasn’t able to plant until the mulch bed was complete in early July, but three small tomato plants thrived in the full sun.  

One evening in July, we saw a deer walking near the top of the bank.  We were amazed and delighted.  In early August, Aloma saw our deer, this time followed by two fawns.

My tomato plants grew to over three feet high and were beginning to bloom.  I could just taste a tomato sandwich.  Then one morning I looked out and my tomatoes were now only a foot high.  We have a big rabbit that hangs around, but since only the tops of the plants were eaten, we were certain it was our deer.

I decided to keep the deer away with a small LED light activated by motion.  I set it on a post near the tomatoes, tested it and announced the deer problem was solved.  And it was - until the tomatoes grew enough to be tasty again.  Back down to a foot tall.  My research uncovered a motion detection light that showed two red lights that looked like eyes of a big cat.  I made over my light by covering it with black paper and adding two holes for eyes covered by red paper.  It was fierce looking.

And it worked - until the tomatoes grew enough to be tasty again.

Finally, my neighbor brought over some Irish Spring soap.  She had heard deer don’t like the smell of it and won’t come near.  I cut the soap into small pieces and scattered them around the plants.  My deer loves Irish Spring soap.

We’re going to the Farmers Market tomorrow to buy tomatoes for my sandwich.  My two-month old, one-foot high tomato plants are going in the trash.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Nuclear and Fracking

Experts from different fields frequently are brought into Carolina Preserve to present information on various topics.  Last week Aloma and I attended a session on the Harris Nuclear Plant, located about 15 miles from us.

I attend these sessions to learn more about the subject and to observe the people and how they react to the presentations and to learn what questions they ask.  I wasn’t disappointed.

The moderator started the session with a slideshow attempting to prove the nuclear plant was dangerous because it depended on the lake levels of Harris Lake to cover the spent rods.  The speakers, one who headed emergency/security preparation for the Harris Nuclear Plant and the other from the National Nuclear Security Agency, politely explained the moderator’s assumptions were incorrect and provided correct facts.  

After a few minutes, the speakers had given me a comfort level that security was tight, most systems had back-ups and training was on-going.  While accidents can happen, the design of the plant and the systems and training procedures seemed to be first-class.

Then the fun began.  The moderator and members of the audience moved into facking, in spite of the speaker declaring he was a nuclear expert, not a fracking expert.  Comments such as:  a fault line lies near the Nuclear facility and fracking causes earthquakes;  drilling might occur two miles from the facility but the horizontal line might extend under the plant and cause an earthquake.  The speaker explained that the power plant owned almost 40 square miles around the plant and no one could drill near the plant.  “No so,” a member of the audience said.  “They can drill anywhere they want, even in your front yard.”

The mob was in full swing now.  Issues with the nuclear plant took backseat to fracking.  Each statement became more outrageous than the last.  Finally, the bottom line was clear.  The Republican governor and legislature were deliberately enacting laws that endangered citizens because they were bought off by big money.

The speakers politely remained quiet while the audienced ranted.

I doubt the  speakers will return to Carolina Preserve.  However, I’ll attend the next meeting in eager anticipation of another mob scene.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

How Many Fingers

After Aloma had cataract surgery a few years ago, jokingly, I would hold up a couple of fingers and ask her how many.  Turn-around is fair play.  She now holds up a finger to me and asks,  “How many?”

Surgery for my second eye was last week.  Surgery was quick, pain free and lasted about 15 minutes.  Amazing!  Surgery was at 8:45 a.m. and we were home by 10:30.  My dad had cataract surgery many years ago.  He was in the hospital for a week with sandbags holding his head in place.  

After my first surgery four weeks ago, I was constantly testing my vision by closing my other eye.  Now I test both of them.  Bottom line:  I can see equally out of both eyes and so much better than before.  My distant vision is crisp and bright.

Close-up vision is another story.  I knew I would need glasses for reading, but I won’t get a prescription for another two weeks.  Meanwhile, I’m using magnifying glasses bought from WalMart.

In the doctor’s office the day after surgery, I started a conversation with a nice man.  I told my surgeon, a nice-looking, young, tiny woman with an engaging smile, that I always enjoy talking to her patients in the waiting room.  She told me that four weeks ago after my first surgery, a woman told her that she talked to me, and I totally relieved her concern about her upcoming surgery.  I left feeling so good that I had helped the woman and that Dr. Gupta remembered from four weeks ago.

Next time you see me ask, “How many fingers?”

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

North Carolina Mountains

When we lived in Mooresville, we were only an hour and a half drive to Blowing Rock, one of our favorite spots in the mountains.   At least once a month during spring and summer, we would leave our home about 8:00 a.m. and arrive in Blowing Rock in time for a two-hour hike before having a meatloaf and sweet potato casserole lunch at the Storie Street Grille.  Aloma would shop after lunch while I sat on the park bench watching people and drinking coffee.  We would be home by 4:00.

We’re now three hours from Blowing Rock, too long for a day trip, so we decided to go on a mini-vacation to Cashiers.  While the temperatures in Cary were in the mid-nineties, Cashiers is at the same 3,800 feet elevation as Blowing Rock and the temperatures were brisk and in the mid-seventies.  Delightful.  We explored three waterfalls, hiked and had three delicious lunches.  Evenings were enjoyed on a private deck with drinks and snacks.  We visited the High Hampton Inn where we stayed before with friends and have good memories.

We decided we weren’t ready to go home when our reservation ended so we spent an overnight in Blowing Rock on the way back.  We hiked, Aloma shopped and I sat on the park bench.  Aloma didn’t feel like lunch so we headed back home before noon.

I’m still thinking about the meatloaf and sweet potato casserole at the Storie Street Grille we missed.

Seasoned Man

Stevelem117@gmail.com

Too Much Maintenance

I’ve always said that when a car requires expensive maintenance, it’s time to trade it in.  The cost of maintenance on my body is outrageous.  I don’t know why Aloma hasn’t traded me in.

It started during our visit with Mary in New Orleans.  Everyone made fun of the constant high pitched squeal coming from my hearing aids.  Aloma said the sound could be heard a block away, was annoying and embarrassing.  Of course, I couldn’t hear it.

Even though my son-in-law’s brother sold me his best hearing aids at cost, they were still expensive (I admit they’re great compared to my other hearing aids).

My eye doctor said my cataracts were growing and she couldn’t correct my vision to 20-20 with glasses.  I put her off, but then had trouble with the lights at one of the grandson’s soccer games.  Driving at night became a problem.  I scheduled an appointment with the doctor and had surgery last week.  I can already see much better with the new eye.

Two weeks ago, a toothache became bothersome.  I put off going to the dentist hoping it would clear up by itself.  Of course, it didn’t.  My dentist diagnosed it as a cracked wisdom tooth and recommended a dental surgeon to remove it.  Last Thursday was the dreaded day.  I was shaking in my sneakers.

The removal wasn’t pleasant but not as painful as I had imagined.  Recovery has been a pleasant surprise so far.  The horror stories I had heard prepared me for a week of drugged bedrest with nothing to eat but soup.  With four heavy-duty pills and then advil, I’m now four days out and doing very well, including eating solid food.

Finally, my index finger on my right hand has arthritis and has been so painful it keeps me awake at night.  Again, I delayed going to the doctor for a steroid shot that, in the past, has taken care of the pain for over eight months.  I finally scheduled the injection for tomorrow.

Aloma insists she’s not trading me in - I don’t know why.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Fred Hill - R.I.P.

I met Fred a year ago shortly after we moved into our new home.  He was in the garage working on a woodworking project.  I introduced myself and we talked for a few minutes.  I immediately liked Fred.  While he was obviously older than me, he had bright eyes and a high energy level.  I felt I had known him for years.  Then I noticed model airplanes hanging in his garage.  From that moment, we bonded.

Over the year we chatted often, usually in his garage while he worked.  He told me about his career in the Navy as a firefighter and his lifelong interest in model airplanes.  I showed him my drone and my model airplanes wrecked in the move and waiting to be put back together.  He built a shelf for me for my huge freestanding kitchen cabinet I bought at Habitat.  We went to his 90th birthday party and gave him a micro quadcopter like the one I flew inside of our house.

Fred suffered a serious illness months ago and I visited him in the hospital and in a nursing home.  I told him I expected to see him working in the garage again very soon.  But I didn’t really expect it.

After four weeks, he was home and one morning the garage door was open and Fred was working on a project.  I was so excited.

But his illness took over again.  I visited him in the hospital and he was his old enthusiastic self.  Then he came home under hospice care and enjoyed his final days at home with his family.

Fred, I’ll miss you.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Transportation Safety

Last month we discussed the horrific train wreck in Pennsylvania.  We wondered whether we should avoid train travel in the future.  I ventured that trains are the safest mode of transportation while Aloma thought that commercial air travel was the safest.

We were both right.  I goggled transportation safety and got the following results:

Deaths per billion Miles

Trains .2

Buses .5

Airplanes .5

Cars 4.0

Space Shuttle 7.0

Ferries 20.0

Bicycles 35.0

Walking 41.0

Motorcycles 125.0

One article I  read had airplanes safer than trains.  I assume the numbers were international as I can’t remember any deaths from ferries in the US.

I now have a dilemna.  I can’t catch a train or airplane to Harris Teeter.  The space shuttle isn’t available and walking is too dangerous, so I’ll have to drive.  Maybe when global warming is in full swing and the coast line is closer, I can take a ferry.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Cutting Back

We visited our daughters near New Orleans two weeks ago.  Mary, our youngest, announced that her family had cut back on the number of pets.  She said the gerbil had died as well as her five, sweet white rats.  She relocated to her vet the small rodents that climbed on everything and glided like flying squirrels.  The flightless geese imprinted on her and starting attacking everyone else, including her daughters, Julia and Anna.  The geese are now on a farm.

Okay, they’ve cut back.  I took inventory on what’s left.  Two cats.  One stays inside and the other roams through the doggie door.  Two dogs.  One is a jumper so they put chicken wire above their fence.  Pretty Girl, a bird bigger than a parakeet but smaller than a parrot, seems to rule the family and the rest of the pets.  Then at a remote barn Julia rides Gwava, her beautiful horse.  Dixie is the latest addition, a miniature horse no bigger than a German Sheppard.  Dixie is being trained as a hospital horse.

Mary, you cut back, but you still have enough pets for three or four families.

We enjoyed our visit at Mary’s home, especially being accepted by all of the pets.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Charles Perry - R.I.P.

I learned yesterday that Charles Perry died recently, a victim of Alzheimer's disease in a nursing home.  Charles was a key person to me as I grew up in Citra, Florida.  He was a role model and like both a big brother and a favorite uncle.  

Within a year of buying The Orange Shop, Dad hired Charles Perry, a young man recently returned from service in WWII.  For many years, Charles managed The Orange Shop and Dad gave him credit for creating a thriving business that was profitable and served loyal customers for decades.  He became Dad’s partner and, in my opinion, my Dad’s best friend.  Dad and my mother, and later, Dad and Shelby, and Charles and his lovely wife, Vivian, would cheer on the University of Florida’s football team together in Gainesville.

I idolized Charles.  He was athletic, bright, personable and could do anything.  Dad was not handy and owned no tools.  When something in the house broke, Dad would ask me to walk over to The Orange Shop to borrow a hammer or a screw driver.  Charles would always ask what we needed it for.  Then he would say, “I’ll walk back with you.  Maybe I can help.”  Then he would fix it.

Charles taught me how to work at The Orange Shop, came down hard on me when I swore, and taught me to respect everyone.  He  took me fishing on the Gulf Coast with his friend, Getzsie, and when I was a junior in high school, even let me have a beer.  I wanted to grow up to  be like Charles Perry.

After, I moved north, I only saw Charles once a year during my vacation.  I reconnected with him briefly when we moved to North Carolina and my brother, John, was setting up a new orange shop in Ocala.  By then, Charles had retired as active manager of the shop and his son-in-law, Rob, had taken over.

One thing I regret - I never told Charles how important he was to me when I was growing up.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Brian Goldman - R.I.P.

At a kindergarden school function, grandson Ben was dressed like Albert Einstein and explained a poster describing Einstein’s life and accomplishments.  Other students had similar exhibitions.  As we walked around talking to the students, we noticed one tall, well-built man talking to each child.  He knelt in front of each one, looked him/her in the eye and spoke softly.  We talked about the wonderful contact he made with the children.  Later, we discovered he was Brian Goldman.

After a few years, Brian became both of our grandson’s coach at a nearby swim club.  While he was a serious coach and produced outstanding swim teams, his manner of interacting with his young swimmers made him special.  They loved him, respected him and kept improving.

We got to know Brian, his wife, Michele and their two sons, Ben and Jared, at parties hosted by Jennifer, our daughter, and Peter, our son-in-law.  While Brian was a prominent physician in Raleigh, to me he was always Coach Brian.

During his bout with cancer, I had the urge to offer to be with him during his ordeal.  I didn’t make the offer.  I reasoned he had hundreds of friends near his age who would be with him.

Now, I wished I had reached out.

Coach Brian, Rest in Peace.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

A Shattering Experience

Remember the ads on TV when an opera star would sing a high note and cocktail glasses and mirrors would shatter.  I always doubted a person could hit a frequency that would set up a vibration to shatter glass.  Boy, was I wrong!

I was sitting on our patio last night when Aloma came out.  She was trying out an allergy medicine she planned to take before singing in a concert on Friday.  She sang a few notes then belted a high note that rocked the neighborhood.

She went back inside and hit the high note again.  Suddenly the light bulb on the ceiling of the deck exploded and glass came down right beside me.  I didn’t know whether I’d been shot or bombed.  Glass was everywhere.  The socket was still in the light fixture.  Just the glass came down.

I got up and asked Aloma to come out and showed her the glass and explained what happened.  She dismissed it.  Just a coincidence.  I told her never in 77 years had I seen a glass light bulb explode, especially when the light wasn’t even on.

I wouldn’t believe this if I hadn’t been part of it.

Now I’m worried about the concert on Friday.  I’m going to wear plastic safety glasses.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Deaths In Perspective

Based on watching news on TV during February and March, I concluded the greatest threats to our children and grandchildren and, maybe, our great-grandchildren are:

Terrorist attacks:

Ebola

Measles

HIV/AIDS

That’s a frightening list.  But I like to understand more than what I hear on TV or read on the Internet.

After researching deaths by various means, I now have a different understanding of our threats in this country - at least current threats.  The following are deaths per year in the United States:

Terrorist attacks          17 since 9/11, 2011

Ebola                           1

Measles                       None in last 10 years

HIV/AIDs                     16,000

These numbers are not so terrifying.  However, look at these numbers of deaths per year in the United States.

Cancer                        575,000

Sepsis (blood

poisoning)                    555,000

Accidents                    123,000

Flu                               36,000 (50,000 this past year)

Auto                             34,000

Guns                           32,000

Age related deaths      1,300,000

(heart, respiratory, cardiovascular and Alzheimer's)

While past statistics don’t predict the future, it seems our national press is creating news and then sticking with it until the public grows tired.  Then on to something else.

I learned a few other things doing this short research that I’ll share in another blog.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Corolla 2015

For the past twenty years, we have joined a group of 23 to 25 people for a week in Corolla, on the North Carolina Outer Banks.  We rent two or three large houses, cook in, play cards, tennis and golf and visit with each other.  The week was especially meaningful to us because we moved from Mooresville last June where most of the Corolla people live.  It was great to see everyone again.

This year the wildlife was special.

Sand crabs abound on the beach, but they’re usually small.  Aloma saw a gray crab larger than two of my fists.  She said he was feisty.

A red fox seemed to include our house in his territory.  He/she was seen four or five times including peeking in the front door.  We heard that he often sleeps on the putting green next to the house.

Three deer grazed on the dune between us and the ocean last night.  Two were large and one was small, but larger than a fawn.  They were in no hurry.

On the way in last Sunday, we noticed a large flock of over a hundred ducks or geese flying north in formation in front of us.  We were limited to 45 mph so we stayed behind then for almost twenty minutes.

The usual porpoises, sea gulls, sandpipers and pelicans were daily visitors.

On our last beach walk, Aloma shouted, “A big bird just dived into the ocean right in front of us.”  The bird stayed in the water and fluttered its wings before finally taking off with a nice sized fish in his claws.  It was an osprey.  They usually grab a fish without staying in the water but a second or two.  Seeing this osprey dive so close to shore and so close to us was special.

On a sad note, a six-foot porpoise was dead and half covered with sand.  Some fool had spray painted part of it.  Aloma said she prayed for its soul.

We already look forward to Corolla, 2016.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Memory and Rungs To Heaven

In early February, I took our Lexus to AutoZone to buy new windshield wiper blades.  A young man helped me select the blades and then installed them.

All was well until the new wipers started screeching during a rainy return from Florida in late February.  Aloma also didn’t think they were as long as the ones we replaced.  She was not happy.

I finally returned to AutoZone yesterday and spoke to the man who sold me the wiper blades.  I told him I bought the blades from him in February, and I’m having problems with them.

He said, “They’re too short?  I wondered about that when we installed them.”

I told him they were too short, but the main problem was the noise.  Then I asked him, “How do you remember?  It has been two months.”

He said he just remembers things like that.  I said your mind must be cluttered with all that information.  Later, I suggested he should get a life.

He laughed so hard he ended up replacing the wipers with brand new ones - at no charge.

After shopping at Harris Teeter, Aloma noticed an empty cart except for a small white bag.  Several people walked right by, looked at the cart and kept going.  After putting her groceries in the car, she returned and looked closely at the bag.  It was a prescription bag with a $400 price slip.

She went back in the store and gave it to the pharmacist and explained where she found it.  He thanked her and said he would call the owner.

When Aloma told me the story, I replied that she earned another rung on the ladder to heaven.  She said, “Maybe just a couple of inches.”

We often joke about earning rungs to heaven and then losing them as quickly as we earn them.

Hey, a couple of inches here and there and you’ve got another whole rung.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com