Happy New Year

Aloma and I wish all viewers of my blog a very Merry Christmas and a terrific year 2017.

For us, Christmas was different this year.  Aloma had a hip replacement on December 20 and the femur fractured when the surgeon tapped in the stem of the implant.  The fractured was secured and the stem reinserted.

Her long term recovery is still positive, but short term is another story.  She can’t put weight on the leg for six weeks and can barely get around with a walker.  Her pain was severe and is now just getting under control.

Daughter, Jennifer,  brought her family over Christmas Eve and back again Christmas morning.  She cooked a wonderful meal for us on Christmas that made the holiday festive.

Aloma and I have the philosophy to take what comes our way and do our best to make the best of it.  We will get through this setback and be better than ever.

Seasonded Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Bath Tales

When we  travel, I enjoy soaking in a Jacuzzi bath in our room, especially when I remember to bring bubble bath soap.  In the past my baths have been a problem - mainly getting out of the tub.  Because my knees don’t bend well, I’ve struggled to get out of  tubs when I’m done.  A couple of days ago, I was dangerously close to having to call 911.  

I took a bath early in the week and had difficulty getting out of the tub, but after trying different approaches, I found one that worked and made it out.  Next time was another story.  My proven approach didn’t work.  I kept slipping back in.  After about ten minutes, I was getting worried.  I called Aloma and told her we might have to call the resort office and have some men come over to lift me out.  I showed her how I got out earlier in the week and slipped again.  She suggested washing the bubbles off on my handholes so I wouldn’t slip.  I did it and got out - and gave my best Tarzan call.

Aloma wouldn’t go near the tub but took a shower after we arrived.  I heard a yell and ran into the bathroom.  “What’s wrong?”

She opened the shower door.  “I didn’t realize there was a front and back shower head and when water hit my back it scared me.”  We both laughed.

Later, we talked and wondered if other couples have such adventures in their bathrooms.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

People Watching

I enjoy watching people, especially young families with children, while shopping or at the fair or on vacation.  Last week I visited Disney Springs, formerly Disney Village, by myself as Aloma can’t walk because of her bad hip.  I walked the entire village then sat with a Starbucks and watched people walk by.  The crowd was mostly young families with children, about a third foreign, Asian and Hispanic, both groups mannerly and neatly dressed.  The rest were Americans, the men sloppily dressed, had recently been in good shape but were sporting the beginning of a beer belly and the women pretty but a little overweight and looking anxious as they herded two or three small children through the crowds.  About half of the young women and men had tattoos.  This group was what I imagine that Hillary, in her ill advised comment, called a basket of deplorables.  In any case, they were having a vacation of a lifetime showing Disney World to their children.

Over the years, I’ve enjoyed grilling out while on vacation on the bank of gas grills provided by our timeshare.  I’m rarely alone and often share a grill with someone else.  This year, I met the nicest man from Switzerland, grilling spareribs while I was working on two small steaks.  He answered my questions about Switzerland and asked questions about the United States.  He was semi-retired and travelled over three months a year.  I saw him the next day and asked how his spareribs turned out.  “Perfect,”  he said.

On another night, I had a nice conversation with two men from St. Louis cooking steaks for their families.  On the third night two men from Tampa were cooking enough hots and hamburgers to feed an army.  All were friendly and seemed to enjoy talking to an old man - me.

Our pool had sloping entrances to the water on both ends, was heated to almost 90 degrees and had a nifty water slide.  Although our resort has over ten pools, this one seemed to be preferred by families with children.  Moms would come early with their children carrying towels, sunscreen and a cooler with snacks.  Dads would come come later, lay in the sun for a few minutes and then play with their kids in the pool, throwing balls, tossing kids in the air and playing keep away.  Mon would lather the kids with sunscreen, dry them with towels and dispense snacks.

Moms kept the kids safe and comfortable, but it seemed to me the dads had more fun.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Water, Wind and Fire

Our drive from Cary, North Carolina to St. Augustine a couple of days ago was interesting.  We left beautiful foliage in Cary and stopped in Lumberton for breakfast at a Waffle House.  Aloma asked our waitress about her hair which started a conversation with our waitress, another waitress and a man at the next table.  After the hair discussion ran dry, the topic of the floods after hurricane Matthew came up.  The Waffle House was flooded, as was most of the town, and the  employees recently put in a full day cleaning up so they could re-open.  They pointed out the road in from of the Waffle House was flooded.  One car didn’t realize it and tried to drive through the water and got stuck.  One person got out but another didn’t and her body was found days later.  As we got back on I-95, we noticed the insides of most homes were being stripped and had piles of rubbish in their front yards.

As we drove south, crews were cutting trees along the roadside.  The wind from Matthew had uprooted trees on the west side of I-95 from Lumberton all through most of North Carolina and South Carolina.  Many of the trees were huge, mostly pine trees.  We remember seeing tree damage in the past, but due to ice rather than high winds.

As we talked about the fallen trees, we noticed the haze, maybe some fog but mostly smoke, and we could smell it.  The smoke lasted all the way through North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia and into St. Augustine.  Fire from the North Carolina and South Carolina mountains, Alabama and Georgia drifted with the wind to cover the entire southeast coast.  Amazing!

While our car trip had some unusual events, we arrived safely in St. Augustine for a wonderful shrimp dinner at O’Steens.  I told Aloma the shrimp were the best ever, but she said I say that every year.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Slow

Now that I’m 78 ½ years old, I’ve been thinking about one word that describes the aging process for me.  The word came to me last night - SLOW.

• I walk slower, at home and going from a parking lot into a store and walking for exercise in Carolina Preserve.  Everyone passes me.
• I drive slower - at least in Cary (and I drive in the left lane because I never know when the right lane is going to end).
• Projects around home take two, three or four times longer.
• It took me two months to (almost) memorize the Carolina Preserve song (I call it our alma mater).
• Sometimes, I’m the last person to catch on to a joke, even on the rare occasion when I hear it correctly.
• Inputting data into Quicken and preparing my income tax on TurboTax take twice as long.
• I leave tools on my stepladder when I move it (I know I shouldn’t be on a ladder at my age).
• Emptying my bladder takes twice as long.
• Mental math takes longer, if I can do it at all
• I bend over slowly because I pulled a muscle in my back a couple of years ago by quickly bending over to tie my shoe.

On the positive side:

• I can do almost anything I once could - if I take my time.
• I still play golf, fly my radio controlled airplanes (fixed wing and multi-rotors), and walk two to three miles for exercise.
• I type as fast as my word processor will accept the letters.
• I work for hours in the yard on my wife’s plants and shrubs and still smile when she micromanages me.

All in all, I enjoy life and find satisfaction in my activities - but I sure am SLOW.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Motivated Reasoning

Most of of us have tried to explain our rationale for political or religious beliefs to others and have experienced frustration when our thoughtful logic was rejected.  How could anyone with half-a-brain not agree with our position?

Have you wondered when an important vote occurs on the Supreme Court, we know the results before the decision is announced;  four to four (while there is a vacancy on the court).  All eight justices have Ivy league law degrees, have impressive careers in lower courts and have been vetted by Congress.  Each justice has a well thought out reason for his/her position but the position on the issue seems to come before the  analysis.  Are half of the justices smarter than the other half?  What is going on?

After the presidential debates, I switched between Fox News and

CNN News.  I have doubts they watched the same debates.

I know you understand what is going  on as well as I do.  We develop deep-seated beliefs and values and then filter information so that it either fits our beliefs/values or we question the validity of the information.  I recently heard a term that describes this - Motivated Reasoning.

My question is how can we put aside our beliefs/values to listen critically to new information - without feeling our gut twist?

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

State Fair - 2016

Before we moved to Carolina Preserve, Aloma and I visited our daughter in Raleigh and went to the North Carolina State Fair.  We enjoyed it so after our move here, I asked Aloma if she wanted to go again.  She declined.  “Once is enough.”

This is my third year that I’ve gone alone.  I walked most of the Fair, enjoyed watching people, especially families, looked at the exhibits and watched the judging of Black Angus cows.  There didn’t seem to be as many animals this year.  Maybe I was there on the wrong day or maybe the floods affected the farmers and ranchers?  I saw very few chickens and ducks.  I did watch the cow milking instructions but declined to stand in line to try it.  When I was young, a man showed me how to milk a cow, but when I tugged on an udder, nothing happened.  I noticed the largest squash was 1,090 pounds.

The food concessions never change.  Every flora and fauna that starts with the letter A to Z is fried, slathered with sauce or heaped with sugar.  Most people walking around were eating.  I did buy ice cream churned by a John Deere engine and sat and listened to some gospel music.  The ice cream was pricey but worth it because John Deere engines make it better.

When I was younger, I piloted a glider for several years.  Heights from an airplane don’t bother me.  But when I get on any ride in an amusement park, my stomach rolls.  I decided to ride the skyway, like a ski lift, across the Fair.  I was terrified.  Every time it would stop or pass a tower, I thought I was falling.  I’m glad I forced myself to ride on it and am glad that I will never do it again.

Will I go to the State Fair next year?  You bet!  It’s a tradition.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Black and White Tires Matter

While coming home from Costco last week, my wife and I noticed a police car stopped by the side of the road with its lights flashing.  “Some poor soul got pulled over for speeding,” I said to Aloma.  As we passed the car and looked closer, I couldn’t have been more wrong.  A policeman was on his knees changing a tire for a man and woman who stood watching.

We were both amazed and pleased.  “The only thing that could have made it better,” I said to Aloma, “would be for the policeman to be changing a black person’s tire.”  We both doubted that would happen.

Two days later I was driving on Highway 55 and noticed another Cary police car with a stopped car.  I looked closely.  The policeman was changing another tire.  This time a black couple with a child were watching the white policeman change their tire.

After all of the news reports describing how evil the police are, this scene gave me a great feeling.  I started to turn around and take a photo of the scene and send it to a newspaper.  Then I realized it would never be printed.  It would not fit the agenda of today’s press.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Growing Old

The original purpose of my blog was to communicate with my children on what it’s like to age through my seventies.

It’s not pretty.

During the last twelve months I’ve had two wisdom teeth extractions (one year apart), cataract surgery, about ten skin cancers removed, a pacemaker installed, a steroid injection in my index finger, a spider bite lanced and drained three times, a drug prescribed for an enlarged prostate and two weeks of antibiotics for a GI problem.  It’s a good thing I’m retired.  Keeping healthy is a full-time job.

And the doctors tell me I’m lucky because my main systems work fine.  I don’t seem to have a problem with my circulatory system and my main organs.  My chemistries are naturally good.  I only take one prescription and that’s for my prostate.

What’s the point of having good health on my main system when my body is falling apart?  Maybe I should feel lucky, but, at the moment, I don’t.

I did get some good news a couple of days ago.  I had my first check-up of my pacemaker and it’s working fine.  And electrical impulses from my upper heart chamber to my lower chamber are now working perfectly.  The doctors reprogrammed the pacemaker so that it won’t fire unless the electrical issue returns.  They don’t think that will happen.  The batteries for the pacemaker are now predicted to last for ten years.  I’ll be senile by then,

Doctors didn’t agree on the cause of the heart blockage - some said old age and others said the spider bite.  Since the electrical issues with my heart have cleared up, I’m convinced the problem was caused by the spider bite.

This week’s schedule - surgery center tomorrow for removal of another skin cancer, the dermatologist on Wednesday so she can find more cancers for the surgery center and then my primary care doctor on Friday.

It’ll be a dismal week.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Where Did They Go?

We love to sit on our back deck and watch the birds, insects and animals.  While our backyard is tiny, a forty-foot berm, part of which Aloma has planted in shrubs and flowers, gives us privacy and attracts every type of fauna.  We’re watched deer and a fox go by on their way to who-knows-where.  A rabbit gives us fits when he eats our plants.  Ducks and an occasional turtle use our backyard to move between ponds.

Butterflies and bees love Aloma’s flowers.  Our Moon Flowers open at dusk and a Clearwing Moth comes to drink nectar.  They look just like hummingbirds until one enters a flower and then it’s obvious it’s a moth.  Chameleons seem to know us and don’t even hide when we’re around.

It is a virtual zoo.

But we like the birds the best.  During spring and summer they came in droves to our birdfeeder and birdbath.  Cardinals, mockingbirds, brown thrushes, goldfinches, doves, wrens, robins, bluebirds, purple finches and an occasional hawk all give us a show.  They enjoy our backyard and then bring their young to show them the birdfeeder and birdbath.

But by August they were gone.  We’ve only seen an occasional mockingbird and wren since then.  We wonder where they go.  Do they go to the mountains to get away from the dog days of summer or do they go to the seashore?  We don’t know.

But they will return any time now, stay through the winter and then raise another brood in the spring.

We hope they had a good vacation but look forward to their return.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

The Gift

On the way back from Emerald Isle, we stopped at The NC Farmer’s Market, one of our favorite destinations.  Aloma bought some fresh vegetables and looked at plants while I walked around looking at the vendors and watching people.  When she finished, we headed over to a favorite restaurant, The State Farmer’s Market Restaurant.

We were waiting for a table and four women in front of us were talking and having a grand time.  Aloma joined in their conversation like she knew them.  Then one of the women reached into her purse, brought out a tube, squirted something on her hands and then offered it to the other three women.  The other women held out their hands for their squirt and so did Aloma, not even knowing what it was.  The women explained it was a sanitizer.

Aloma asked a lot of questions including where she bought it.  The women held it out to Aloma and said it was a gift.  Aloma declined but the lady insisted so Aloma took it.

The four women were seated and then we were seated moments later.  We had our usual good meal including fresh North Carolina vegetables cooked country style.

As we got up to leave, Aloma went over to the table of the four ladies she met and talked with them some more.  If anyone had been watching, they would have assumed Aloma had known them for years.

What a gift Aloma has for meeting and talking with people.  And this time her gift ended up getting her a gift.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Jack's Week

Jack’s Bar Mitzvah was celebrated on August 20.  We were excited as the date approached,  We love Jack and respect the hard work he puts into everything in his life, including sports, school and chores around the house, just as we respect and love Ben, his brother, and our other five grandchildren.  But this was Jack’s week.

Last Friday we attended an informal get-together of friends and family for a light meal then a short service at the Synagogue where Jack read Hebrew and assisted with the service.  The Bar Mitzvah was on Saturday, the next day.  We arrived early for family photographs then took our seats.  Each family member or couple read a passage or took part in the ceremony.  Aloma and I read a poem by Rudyard Kipling.  For the next hour and a half, Jack assisted the Rabbi conduct the service by reading and chanting from the Torah and a prayer book.  He never hesitated nor made a mistake (at least that we could tell).  He had a presence that we were all proud of.

Following the service, a magnificent luncheon was set out for the 180 people who attended the Bar Mitzvah.  After the luncheon, a magician wowed the group and a disc jockey kept the young people (and some adults) busy with activities including a congo line, a Jewish dance and line dancing.  Everyone, young and old, had a wonderful time.

The next day, 23 of us including Peter’s British parents and brothers Roy and Daniel with their families, Jennifer’s Dad and stepmother from Rochester, her aunt, Aloma and I and Jack with three of his buddies headed to Emerald Isle, North Carolina.  Jennifer and Peter rented two large houses close to to the beach, each with a pool.  The weather was beautiful.  While temperatures were in the mid-eighties, a cool breeze kept us comfortable.  We all participated in meal preparation.  It was a terrific week and everyone had fun.

We don’t understand how Jennifer pulled all of this together as she is now working full time.  But she did.

Jack, thanks for inviting us to the Bar Mitzvah and congratulations for a job well done.  Thank you Jennifer and Peter for creating such a wonderful time for everyone at the beach.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Terror

Behind our home is a street hidden by a 30-foot slope, but the street light is visible from our back deck.  During the summer we’ve been entertained by a mockingbird, singing all day and sometimes even at night.  He will sing for an hour then fly ten feet into the air, still singing and return to the street light.  While his singing cycle is now over, he still spends much of his time on the street light, just hanging out.

The other day, I was sitting on the deck and noticed a good-sized hawk sitting on a horizontal bar that holds the street light.  After a few minutes here comes our mockingbird and lands on his favorite perch.  He preens his feathers then looks to his left.  There two feet away sits this huge hawk.

Our mockingbird lets out a screech, opens his wings and falls off of the street light.  He didn’t remember to flap his wings until he was halfway to the ground.  In a few minutes a mockingbird returned, got no closer than ten yards from the hawk and then left.  I don’t know if it was the male (who almost had a nervous breakdown) coming back to see if the hawk was for real or if it was his mate coming to see if his story was true.

I laughed and then laughed even harder when I told the story to Aloma. 

Now I’m laughing again as I write this.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Return

When we lived in Mooresville, North Carolina, we enjoyed day trips to Blowing Rock, elevation 4,000 feet.  What a gift to leave 90 degree weather and enjoy the crisp, cool air of higher elevations.  Since we moved to Cary, we’re now three hours away,  too long for a day trip.

We recently planned a two-night trip with reservations at The Village Inn.  While the temperature back home was in the 90’s, we arrived to cool temps and low humidity.  We hiked at Bass Lake, ate at the Storrie Street Grill and then went to our motel to check in. I walked into the office and did a  double-take.  This was the room where I broke my hip 15 years ago.

As part of the 60th birthday celebration for Aloma, Pam and Priscillia, we booked rooms in The Village Inn.  The others had either gone shopping or were in their rooms after lunch so I went to this common room - part library, part TV room.  I read for awhile and then decided to go back to our room.  I never made it.  I didn’t notice the step down (only about eight inches), lost my balance, and instead of falling, I tried to get my balance by hurrying forward.  I struck the edge of a huge chair and fell.  I knew immediately my hip was broken.

I lay there for 30 minutes, first calling out softly for help then finally yelling “HELP” as loud as I could.  A man finally heard me, came in and I gave him our room number.  Aloma arrived and immediately took charge, calling 911.  I was taken by ambulance to a hospital in Boone and operated on that night.  My hip was not only broken, but displaced.  The surgeon put it back together using deck screws (my words) and two months later I was fine.

The common room is now the office and the small step now has a ramp and two large signs that say, “Watch Your Step.”  I guess I had something to do with the new safety features.  Our room needed to be checked so I talked with the desk clerk while we waited and told her my story.  She was mildly interested.  She must have been in grade school when it happened.

After the clerk gave me the key to the room and I was leaving, she yelled, “You be careful.  I’m going to be watching you.”

Our two-day trip turned out to be perfect - good weather, good food and good hikes,  though not as long as 15 years ago.

And I was careful.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Tom Perkins - R.I.P

I met Tom Perkins soon after we moved to Mooresville, NC, almost 22 years ago.  His wife, Priscilla,  Aloma and Pam K discovered they were the same age and their birthdays were within two weeks of each other.  They became close friends - and so I got to know Tom.

Tom was from Oklahoma but worked for years in New York City in commercial real estate, a tough and competitive occupation.  He was up to it.  Tom could be crusty and hold his own against anyone.

Tom loved football, especially Oklahoma football.  If conversation lagged, all it took was to ask Tom about Oklahoma’s prospects, and he would talk for 15 minutes.  Most years, he would attend a Oklahoma football game.

I would not stereotype Tom as a typical Oklahoman,  He didn’t look like he could plow the north 40 or play defensive tackle for Oklahoma or Nebraska.  Tom was short, a nappy dresser and direct with his speech with no midwest drawl.

My best memories are when the three birthday girls and husbands plus three other couples would gather for dinner, usually at Tom and Priscilla's home.  We would sit around their large dining room table, having a few glass of wine, while Tom and Priscilla would entertain us with stories.  Tom’s were usually about Oklahoma, including stories about his grandfather who was a trick shot artist.  We would laugh so hard that my face hurt the next day.

When our grandson, Jack, was five years old, Laura, Tom and Priscilla’s daughter, positioned him in the water with Tom’s beginner water skis while Tom readied the boat.  Jack shot out of the water and never fell.  Jack, now 12 years old, remembers Mr. Perkins and that day in detail.

An era ended two years ago when we moved to Cary, Pam and Bill moved to Chapel Hill and Tom and Priscilla moved  to an assisted living community.

Tom, I will always miss you and never forget your stories.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Writing

As many of you know, writing is one of my hobbies.  I read years ago that  it’s helpful to start a hobby as you age that’s new and something you’re not too good at - something that requires learning.

Well, I never was a good writer, but I did keep a journal for years and enjoyed making entries.  I joined a writer’s group in Mooresville and wrote short stories, then novels.  So far I’ve published (self-published)  four novels.  Two are historical fiction and two are sci-fi novels.

I’m pleased that I write better than when I started; I got a huge amount of satisfaction when I published my books, but it’s good that I didn’t quit my day job - if I had had one.  While I received positive comments about my two sci-fi books, sales have been disappointing.  My latest book, “Star Song: The Mystery of the Sphere”, published in March, 2016 is near the bottom of the Amazon’s bestseller list.  That’s not too good.

Oddly, the book about the orange groves in Citra, Florida, where I grew up, have outsold the sci-fi books by many times.  After several years, I still get deposits in my checking account from Amazon, mostly from the Turkey Grove series.

What’s next?  I ended Star Song in a way to support a sequel and have actually gotten emails suggesting storylines for the sequel.  But that’s going to have to wait.

My next project is the final Turkey Grove book - “Farewell Turkey Grove.”  I started it several months ago and I’m enjoying the research and recollections from the past.  I expect it’s about a year away from publication.

Check out my website:  lemasterswordware.com.  All my books are listed with a link to Amazom.com and my blog.  If you do read one of my books, please write a review.  Reviews sell books.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Good Night - Be Quiet

I am sure that I’m the only newlywed who after working all day, coming home to mow the grass, then doing another hour of work that I brought home from the office and finally getting in bed exhausted at 11:00 p.m. knowing the alarm would go off in seven hours, my wife wants to talk.

I would do my best to keep my eyes open while Aloma talked while hoping she wouldn’t expect me to respond.  “Did you understand what I just said?” she would ask.  I would say ‘yes’ before falling asleep.

One night Aloma was especially interested in talking about her day and asking how my day went.  I was too tired to respond so I said, “Good night.  Be quiet.”  She was so shocked I didn’t hear another word from her that night.

But I did the next day.  “Do you realize what you told me last night?”

I said I couldn’t remember.

“You told me, ‘Good Night - Be Quiet.’”

I thought I was in big trouble, but she laughed.  “I was so shocked I had to think about it, then it hit me as funny.  I laughed but you were already asleep.”

‘Good Night - Be Quiet’ became one of our code  words.  It could be said anytime, in public or in private and the other person knew what it meant - shut up.

Two hours after my pacemaker was installed, Aloma sat in the comfortable recliner in my hospital room.  I was still loopy and talking nonsense.  She closed her eyes and said,  “Good Night - Be Quiet.”

I knew everything was going to be okay.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Fun Day at Costco

When I’m at Costco, I enjoy sampling the free food put on display.  When I entered the store today, the first booth I saw was giving out samples of chocolate cashew clusters.  I took one and it was delicious.  In fact, I thought about it the entire time I was shopping.

After completing my shopping list, I approached another booth and reached out for a sample.  The lady behind the booth said, “Sir, you can’t eat these.”

I thought it was strange so I asked why?

“This is just a display.  This is pet food.”

What could I say? I quickly left.

On the way to the cashier, I walked by the cashew clusters again.  I’ve never sampled an item twice, but this time I couldn’t resist.  Besides, people were lined up to get a sample.  How could she remember me?   I reached over and snagged another one.  

“Sir, you’ve already been here.  You can’t have another.”  Everyone looked at me.

I was horrified.  I tried to get out of it.  “That must have been my brother.  We came in together.”

“I won’t fall for that.  I know it was you.”  Then she laughed.  “I’m just kidding you.  You can have as many as you like.”  She passed me the tray but I declined and hurried over to the cashier.

After I paid, I noticed the person who checks the baskets when you leave, a young black man, was kidding around with the customer ahead of me.  When it was my turn, “I whispered to him.  I bought wine and beer and wasn’t even carded.”

He stepped back, looked me in the eye and said, “ Sir, that’s because you look so responsible.”

I patted him on the shoulder and told him that he would be managing this store soon.

Back in the car, I laughed all the way home.  I told the stories to Aloma and she laughed and said I should write a blog about the visit to Costco.  “But next time you go there, stay out of trouble.”

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Unintentional Consequences

Heather MacDonald, writing for several newspapers including the New york Times, The Wall Street Journal, The New Criterion and Public Interest, stated some interesting facts about the movement, “Black Lives Matter.”

Good news:  Homicides fell 85% in New York City between 1990 and 2014.  Similar rates were experienced in most US cities.  Over 10,000 minority males are alive today in New York because of this decline.  The cause of this decline was a program to identify where serious crimes occur and flood the predicted crime areas with police to prevent the crimes.

Bad news:  Murders rose by 17% in large cities in 2015.  Baltimore had the highest per capita homicide rate last year in its history,  Milwaukee had a 72% increase in its murder rate while Cleveland increased 90%.  Why?  Police have abandoned the proactive program because when they appear in black neighborhoods, they are now met with hostile, jeering and threatening crowds.  They respond to 911 calls with force, but generally stay out of black neighborhoods for routine patrols to prevent crime.

The overwhelming majority of murders are blacks killed by other blacks.  Blacks commit homicides at ten times the rate of white and Hispanic males combined.  And most of the victims are black.

President Obama and his administration have spoken against the police accusing them of broad discrimination against blacks. Whether it is true or not, his words have consequences.

Thousands of blacks have been murdered because of the administration’s and media’s war on the police and the number of police officers killed in shootings have doubled during the first three months of 2016.  I don’t believe for a moment that President Obama wanted this carnage to occur.  But I do blame him for not having staff trained in systems analysis to analyze the consequences of his actions.

Will our next president have advisors - and listen to them - to help them avoid unintentional consequences.  I doubt it, but we will find out soon.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Heart

My next blog was going to describe the frustrations caused by the arthritis in my hands.  After the last five days, my hands are the least of my worries.

A sore on my lower back became much worse on Sunday.  Aloma pushed for a visit to Urgent Care and I, amazingly, agreed.  The doctor said my pulse was 42 and the EKG he ordered was not good.  I had to go to the hospital immediately - and in an ambulance.  I objected but was overruled.  From the ambulance, I could see Aloma following us at 80 mph.

My sore was lanced and drained and I was immediately put on antibiotics.  But their main concern was my heart.  I was put on a heart monitor, had numerous EKGs, X-Rays, and blood tests.  The doctor said I am extremely healthy, even my heart is strong.  But the electrical connections in the heart are not working - and since the heart won’t pump without electrical signals, I had a serious situation.

The antibiotics didn’t do the job on the sore (now called either a tick or spider bite) and my pulse was down to 36.  I was scheduled for a pacemaker the next day.

Surgery went perfectly and I was released from the hospital the day after with a beautiful EKG.  Pain has been minimal but I can’t extend my left arm or lift weights for six weeks - and I can’t drive for a week.

This experience once again reminded me how fortunate I am to have a wonderful life partner.  Aloma was supportive, caring and spent her days at the hospital.  She is a gift.

Did the little bugger that bit me save my life by getting me to Urgent Care or is he the one who disrupted my electrical signals to the heart?  My doctors don’t know but I suspect he caused my problem.

In any case, this is another event in my life as I move through my late seventies.  It’s okay if there aren’t any more events like this for awhile.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Grandson Days

One of the reasons we like the Raleigh area is we get to see our grandsons participate in sports and school activities.  The last three days have been special.

Jack’s soccer team made it to the State finals for the Club Soccer Tournament.  They were scheduled to play in the finals on Sunday against a team that had previously beaten them 4-0.  The winner not only would win the State Championship, but would earn the right to play in the National Tournament in Houston.

We drove to Greensboro for the game.  At the half, the score was 0-0.  Jack had an outstanding shot on goal, but the opponent’s goalie had an equally outstanding save.  After only a minute into the second half, the other team scored.  Both teams had a couple more chances to score, but the game ended 1-0.  We lost.

Jack was okay.  “We did better than the last time we played them.  Plus, I’m too busy to go to Houston,” he said.

Jack got a call at 9:00 Sunday night to inform him that he had been picked for the Select Team, a team made up of the best Club players in the Raleigh area.  We understand the Club will pick up all his soccer expenses next year including travel expenses.  Wow!!

While Ben is an equally good soccer player, last night was his night to excel in music.  His string ensemble performed in a concert and Ben was one of the first violinists.  The music was beautiful.  We were so proud of him.  And he arranged the music for one of the pieces and the music director asked him to stand for an ovation.

It was a good couple of days for our grandchildren and for their grandparents.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com

Music Makers

Soon after we moved to Cary, our neighbor, Betty, asked Aloma if she sang.  Aloma said she did and agreed to go with Betty to a  Carolina Preserve Music Maker practice.  While Aloma had years of singing in church choirs, cantoring for her church, and singing with the Rochester, NY Oratorio Society, she came home from the first practice session impressed.  Individuals were old, but they had extensive music experience; many had been professionals.

Her first event with the Music Makers was a Christmas concert, followed in the Spring by a Cabaret musical with the audience sitting around tables.  Both concerts were sold out (150 people for each of the two-night concerts).  They were wonderful.

Another Cabaret musical was held this past weekend.  At our table were our friends Bill and Pam and cousins, Bob and Luanne and Trey and Barbara.  We had wine and snacks and enjoyed each other.

But the best part of the night was the Music Makers.  They had been practicing twice a week since February and it showed.  The quality of their combined voices was outstanding.  To make the evening fun, the Carolina Preserve dancers did several routines.  Their attraction is they can still tap dance at their age.  Several members of the chorus performed enjoyable solos.  

The main attraction was the Music Makers.  They were outstanding.  Maybe they’re not World Class or United States Class (some might argue the Mormon Tabernacle Choir is better), but they are definitely North Carolina Class.

I’m so proud of Aloma for participating with them.  And of course she is the best looking (and youngest looking) female singer.  Naturally, the director puts her in the first row.

Way to go, Aloima.

Seasoned Man

stevelem117@gmail.com