Stuck in the Mud

Yesterday a MD-90 passenger jet got stuck in the mud while attempting take-off from Washington National Airport*.  I'm sure it was no fun for the passengers and crew and, thankfully, no one was injured.  Nevertheless, it seemed like a perfect analogy for what's going on a few miles away up on Capitol Hill.

Congress continues to argue over legislation addressing important, national issues. This must be very frustrating for members who understand what collaboration and compromise mean.  Without term limits, members of Congress must always push for the interests of their constituencies to help ensure they will be re-elected.  Can't say that I blame them; the perks for members of Congress are huge and well beyond the reach of an average American.  And -- they are all paid for by you and me.

Mud-slinging is nothing new in D.C.  There's always plenty to go around and plenty of people willing to sling it, even if it means endangering American lives and increasing world tensions.  Frankly, I'd like to sling some mud on one Edward Snowden.  I value my privacy and accept that, in today's world, some of it must be sacrificed to help ensure my safety.  To deliberately reveal national secrets is nothing short of treason.

*I refuse to add Reagan to our airport's name.  Does no one remember when he fired all the air traffic controllers?!  Besides, the late president's name is plastered on enough edifices as it is.

Six New Blood Brothers and Sisters

Early this Spring, I had total hip replacement surgery. It has been a resounding success -- after some glitches got worked out.

Among several things I had not expected was the necessity for six blood transfusions; four during the surgery and two more about two weeks afterwards. I remember signing papers giving my doctor permission to transfuse blood, but I never dreamed I would need any and certainly not that much.

The only time I was aware of getting donated blood was when my doctor put me back in the hospital after two weeks in a rehab center. It was a huge surprise and a moving experience watching someone else’s blood flowing through clear tubing into a vein in my hand. To think that people I will probably never know would donate their very lifeblood to a stranger made me feel so grateful.

When I worked for the local American Red Cross chapter, it was customary but not required to donate. Blood supplies run dangerously low during summertime and holidays when regular donors take vacations.  Staff members knew this and made a point of donating during those times.

Even though I reacted (fainting, low blood pressure) every time I donated, I gave eight pints before the nurses told me not to give any more. Truthfully I was not totally broken-hearted because I hated those big ole needles. Still, I feel bad that I can’t help people who need my type A+ blood, especially now.

So . . .. on the off-chance that any of the donors who helped restore my health read this -- many, many thanks. We have a connection I will always cherish.

Moved to Tears

Since 1988, hundreds of thousands of motorcycling U.S. Military veterans from around the country have congregated in Washington for Memorial Day weekend. Their Rolling Thunder roars through Arlington National Cemetery and through the city reminding all of us of their comrades’ sacrifices during the wars Americans have fought.

Most of the guys are around my age, having fought and survived the war in Vietnam. They are MY vets.

Matt McClain’s picture in the Washington Post this morning brought tears to me eyes. Two of MY vets in jeans, black shirts, hats and dark glasses stood on the narrow island dividing north bound and south bound traffic on 23^rd Street, heading north, away from Memorial Bridge and the Lincoln Memorial. Between them was an Army Pfc. In dress uniform holding a stiff salute.

This has been done before and too few realize what a fete it is to stand at attention, holding a formal salute for several hours. That’s how long it takes for Rolling Thunder to make its way out of the cemetery and up 23^rd Street. Two of MY guys left their bikes to support the Pfc. One braced his saluting arm and the big, tattooed guy on the other side was touching his other hand.

I’m so very proud of MY vets because they have been making extraordinary efforts to assure that their brethren at arms returning from the Middle East are welcomed home. MY vets were made to feel ashamed and unwelcome when they returned from Southeast Asia. Most of them were not volunteers as today’s military members are, so the ugly homecomings were even harder on them. Too many of them still suffer following their horrific experiences.

I credit MY vets for inspiring military bigwigs to recognize and treat things like PTSD and traumatic brain injuries as the real afflictions they are. Too often, in the past, only injuries that were visible to the human eye were taken seriously.

My own, late father only revealed a few of the horrors he witnessed in WWII during the last days of his life. I had to press him for details after watching a documentary on WWII in the Pacific, where he served in the Navy. My mother, his beloved wife of 62 years, had the strength and unconditional love to enable him to live a long, mostly happy life. (I say mostly happy because raising five kids wasn’t always a happy experience for any of us.)

Families left behind suffer the most, I think. Receiving word that someone is categorized as Missing in Action is almost worse than learning of someone’s death in war. For years I wore my MIA bracelet in remembrance of an Army Pfc. who was unaccounted for. I reluctantly mailed it in when a project to make a statue out of the metal from all those bracelets was proposed. I never heard anything about it afterwards. If anyone knows what happened to this project, I’d sure like to know.

I just opened an email from a friend wishing me a Happy Memorial Day. What on Earth is happy about this day?! Businesses hold Memorial Day sales in hopes of making more money and others just enjoy a day off.

I wouldn’t call myself a kill-joy, but come on, people -- this is a day to remember our war-dead. Amen.

　

　

　

My take on the IRS mess

I'm 100% sure that the President knew nothing about the nefarious dealings going in inside IRS offices until very recently.  I'm also convinced that the plan to deny/delay granting nonprofit status to conservative groups was hatched around water coolers in one or more regional IRS offices.

Supervision of thousands of employees must cause major headaches for the leadership of any federal agency, particularly when some of them are furloughed for the sake of saving tax dollars.

This is not the first time the IRS has been slapped on the wrist for stupid stuff some of their staff do.  There have always been employees who, just out of curiosity, looked up the tax returns for famous people.  Even the lowest clerk on the totem pole can access very personal information about any one of us. Unfortunately, the age of electronics opened a Pandora's Box. There is no privacy anymore.

Personally, I'm a liberal thinker.  However, workers in government agencies must remain neutral and obey the regulations and laws governing their responsibilities.  It's not always easy when one is passionate about his or her political beliefs.  But trust is hard to earn back once it has been questioned.

Since no one really loves the IRS and paying taxes, heads must roll.  Sadly, that usually means heads high on the totem pole who very likely had no idea what those working several management levels below them were doing.  It's time to take a closer look at those on the bottom of the totem pole.

 

Bury him at sea.

All the hand-wringing and nasty commentary about where to put the remains of one of the Boston Marathon bombers disappointed and disgusted me. He’s dead, so what more damage can he do?!

Some said his remains should be sent “home” to Russia. Who would pay for that? -- American taxpayers. I’d prefer that my tax dollars go to feeding the hungry and housing the homeless.

No cemetery wanted to accept the remains and it took great courage on the part of a funeral director to accept the body. Even then, he was threatened and scolded for doing the decent thing.

Granted, for some, Tsarnaev will become a martyr. His gravesite could become an impromptu shrine where like-minded extremists visit for inspiration. Another possibility, listening to some who are angry about his burial in American soil, is that his grave could be desecrated.

The decision to bury Osama Bin Laden at sea was brilliant. It left no gravesite where his followers could exhume and display grizzly remains to incite more violence. It also preempted any shrine in his honor.  Since Islam does not approve of cremation, burial at sea seems like a better, more decent choice, even for "the bad guys".  Better out of sight and out of mind. 

Earth Day 2013

Beautiful, isn't she?

Up close, she's not quite as beautiful.

From space it's hard to see toxic smoke billowing out of chimneys; a huge man-caused "island" of plastic bits floating in the beautiful, blue waters of the Pacific Ocean; crude oil seeping into the Gulf of Mexico and countless other places; rivers and lakes so contaminated it's dangerous to even touch the water.

Somestimes I think we humans are too smart (smug?) for our own good.  We develop weapons that can destroy huge chunks of continents and everything living there, leaving it uninhabitable for generations to come.

Developing poisons that kill almost instantly and usually torturously occupies minds that would be better used to find cures or preventatives for diseases.  Even the treatments we have to combat polio, malaria, measles and more don't get to the needy because of misguided or partisan thinking by those with superior weapons.

We humans are pretty blase when it comes to caring for our planet.  We are not yet to the point that we can simply abandon Earth when it becomes too toxic to support life and fly off to another planet.

Earth is hurting because of human abuse and neglect.  Selfish interests are destroying our people and our planet.  What good will all that hoarded wealth do when Earth can no longer support life?

Will they never learn?

Thugs who pull-off reprehensible deeds like detonating bombs at the Boston Marathon will never learn:

When you attack one American,

you attack every American.

It doesn’t matter if the perpetrator/s turn out to be homegrown or foreign; nothing unites Americans like an attack on innocence. For proof of this, just look back to the atrocities September 11, 2001. Yes, we all suffered, but we drew together as a nation to protect our way of life.

On April 15^th, children, moms, dads, grandparents, siblings, friends and supportive strangers came out to cheer-on those participating in a grueling marathon. I’ve done it myself during Marine Corps Marathons here, in D.C. You cheer for every runner, not just your own, because they all need and deserve it.

Freedom of speech allows and empowers Americans to express their grievances. Covertly killing, maiming and terrorizing unsuspecting victims is cowardly and achieves nothing but hatred directed at those responsible.

We will grieve our losses and help those who need it any way we can. Then we will move on knowing that the American way of life works and will survive. . . .

[Even though Congress continues to refuse to put limits on the types of weapons that can be sold to the general public and with unlimited quantities of ammunition. The original Minutemen must be twirling in their graves.]

Eagles Amongst Us

An article in today’s issue of The Washington Post triggered a memory.

While foolishly juggling too many grocery bags in an effort to make one trip between the store and my car, I stumbled and dropped several. Thankfully I didn’t fall, but it was still embarrassing and annoying.

Within seconds, a strapping young man appeared seemingly out of nowhere. After making sure I was OK, he easily picking up the bags and carried them to my car and waited while I got the trunk open.

My words of thanks felt pitifully inadequate, but he just grinned and said he was an Eagle Scout and it was his pleasure to help. Having had two brothers in scouting, I knew what it took to earn that distinction. As I snapped shut my gaping mouth, I shook his hand and said I was proud to meet him.

The Boy Scouts of America have produced young men like this for more than a century. However, now, they are going to great pains to identify and excommunicate those who are “different” -- gay. It seems that some religious and secular organizations are adopting Puritan principles when it comes to sexuality.

Wouldn’t it be interesting if it was possible to gather statistics on how many boys who earned Eagle Scout status during the past century were homosexuals. Now THAT would be an eye-opener!

One reason there seems to be an explosion in the LGBT* population is that its members have organized and now have strength in numbers. They’re fighting back against decades of fear, confusion, mistrust and outright hostility to embrace their human rights. It is still an uphill fight.

Here, in the nation’s capital city as elsewhere, gay and transgender persons have been viciously attacked and/or killed because of their differences. What the Boy Scouts is doing is just as damaging psychologically.

Being excluded from something because of the way someone was born can be excruciating. I would compare it with saying you can’t join this or that because you don’t have green skin and purple eyes. LGBT people are born as they are. Think about it; why would anyone choose to be discriminated against and ostracized?

So, to the young man in Bethesda working hard to earn Eagle Scout status, I say BRAVO and don’t give up the fight. Plenty of people believe in you and hope that revealing the truth about yourself will help to change the status quo.

Every child deserves a chance to achieve excellence and to earn the praise that goes with that achievement. Scouting has been a firm advocate for that until now. It needs to step out of the mire of social disorientation and return to it’s laudable roots.

　*Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender

Excited Anticipation

For the first time in many months, since my health dramas hit, I've found a cool diversion that should appear any day now.

The so-called 17-year locusts are coming!  Billions of them will be clawing up through soil that has held them dormant for the past 17 years.  Why they hang out underground for so long is a mystery to me.  However, their sole purpose, once they emerge, will be to find mates to procreate.

I clearly remember the last time these cool/creepy looking insects "visited" our region.  They are so hot to trot that they will fly right into people and objects in their frantic search for sexual release.  Their urgent, boisterous mating calls become a solid wall of inescapable, constant buzzing.  To my ears it sounds just like the tinnitus I hear all the time, except louder.

Cicadas emerge from the ground as larva. They soon grab onto a tree or any other rough surface to shed their skins and free their transparent wings.  As a kid, living in the Midwest, my playmates and I spent hours trying to collect the most shells.  The sharp claws left on the shells made it possible for us to wear them on our clothing -- something we thought was truly awesome.

One benefit of this 17-year appearance is aerating the soil.  Millions of 1/2 to 1 inch holes open up as the cicadas emerge from the ground, allowing rain to reach deeper into the soil.  That's my theory anyway, and I'm sticking by it.

For those who dislike stepping on their crunchy bodies or being smacked in the face by one clumsily flying in search of love, remember that they've been without everything for 17 years and won't be around for long.  So enjoy the red-eyed, gossamer-winged critters for what they are: a miracle of nature.

I'll be out of touch for a while.  Going to get myself some new hip hardware tomorrow!

 

These begonias grew in our balcony flower boxes a few years ago.  We're thinking of doing begonias again, maybe with some petunias.

 

Spouse and I both love the scent of  "4 o'clocks", which I think are also called nicotiana or some such name.  They blossom every evening and give off the most beautiful fragrance.  They are a tad messy though, shedding big seeds that are not fun to step on bare-footed, which I usually am.

 

After yesterdays disappointing non-blizzard, the sun is shining brightly and my thoughts are all about

Spring -- that is when I'm not obsessing about tomorrow's surgery.  The Cherry Blossoms around the Tidal Basin are supposed to peak during the last week of March, so there is reason to hope that Spring will come before Summer hits with a vengeance.



Looks like we dodged the bullet!

As much as I love snow, I'm kinda glad we didn't get clobbered as some had predicted we would.  Counties west of D.C. did, however get hit with some significant snow.  My part of the District (Foggy Bottom) has had hours of rain and occasional snow showers, but no accumulation.  It's amazing how just a few miles of distance can result in totally different weather.

Shutting down schools, some businesses and governments was probably a good idea since workers commute from areas that have lost electrical power and/or have trees down in inconvenient places.  Rush hour is more like traffic on a Saturday afternoon.  I hope there won't be too many bad surprises for those folks heading out of town.

But cheer up!  Any snow we got will be gone soon enough.  Our temps will be back into the 50s in a few days.

It's Panic Time Redux in D.C.

The D.C. region is bracing for our first, named snowstorm; Saturn.  Locals have already changed it's name to Snowquester in keeping with the federal government's latest move.  The storm is supposed to hit tonight and dump anywhere from three to eight inches on us.  We shall see. . .

Living pretty much equidistant from the Atlantic Ocean and the Blue Ridge Mountains our weather is notoriously quirky.  Both can influence it, so making predictions are difficult.  At the moment, the sun is shining warmly and brightly.  There is a thin skin of clouds that barely blocks a lovely blue sky.

IF we get snow, it is expected to be wet and heavy.  There are already visible buds on the Cherry Blossom trees.  They're small enough that they should survive, but it was just announced that they should reach their peak during the last week of THIS MONTH!  Please join me in keeping fingers crossed that Snowquester will be our last big winter storm.

 

Not So Fast, America!

From what I’ve been reading, it seems that there are plenty of Americans cheering the pending federal government sequester scheduled to begin this Friday.

Take a minute to think what that means not only here, in the D.C. Region but to average Americans everywhere.

In this case, sequestration will prevent federal workers from working full time or furloughing them because of budgetary constraints. In other words, many of the services Americans have come to expect and take for granted may be curtailed or delayed.

For examples, it takes millions of man-hours to manage and distribute VA benefits, health and education benefits like Medicaid and federally funded programs for childcare and education, and many other federal services that aren‘t quite as visible, like federal meat inspections. Your own finances may suffer when IRS refunds are delayed or messed-up for lack of adequate human resources. It cannot all be done by machines.

Yes, the D.C. Region enjoys a fairly high standard of living but, of course that is relative to the cost of living here. It ain’t cheap! Nevertheless, hundreds of thousands of federal workers commute long distances to labor for all of us. Often this is in somewhat rustic offices inasmuch as many federal office buildings were built before or during WWII.

So, my fellow Americans, think again before you caste aspersions on federal workers. Right now many of them are concerned about how deadlines set by law will be met when their work week is cut short, or they are furloughed. Of course rents and mortgages won’t pay themselves, either.

When you think about it, the Federal Government is the largest nonprofit in America! It is controlled by the whims of Congress and the President -- not a pleasant or easy position to be in.

I you will forgive my bastardization of a familiar quote: From a few much is expected and little is given.


[Full disclosure: I am not, nor have I ever been a federal employee. I have, however, worked in formal collaboration with many. I found them to be conscientious and devoted to their agencies’ missions. It’s too bad that the “bad eggs” get so much notice. There are far more “feds” who take their jobs seriously and deserve our respect.]

Gratuitous Cuteness

On this cold, February day, following St. Valentine's Day I felt the need for some cuteness.

This little doll is my #2 goddaughter, Carolyn on her first birthday.  She is now a ravishing 25 year old.  She could truly charm the birds out of the trees -- even now!