If I am to discover my voice, it will happen here, this year. I will write something each day, some days more than others, and some times editing a work in progress. I will write about what I see, hear, think about and feel on a variety of topics. This should be a challenge, since I haven't written anything here since February, but...
Today is my birthday, and I don't feel much like waxing philosophical. But I did look at the obits today and spotted a 69 year old who passed away. Don't get the wrong idea, I don't spend time looking there every day, I just landed there with my eyes open and that entry caught my eye. I never really think about whether there is a limit to the time I might have left. Instead I usually think of how much I have left to do. Among those things, is an unfulfilled wish to write--essays, speeches, fiction, anything at all. So here I go.
Today I thought about how much yoga is teaching me. The importance of remembering to breathe; to rest between periods of effort; humility, as I find myself unable to successfully complete a pose or stance (my teacher would scold me for that one--attempting is success, never making the attempt is failure); the fascinating process of muscle and brain "memory" that allows improvement with each day's effort. There's more, but I just realized I need to go tackle "Jim's daily dose" of yoga, as my teacher has dubbed it. See ya.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
What A Pain
My friend John spent New Year’s Eve this year in the cardiac unit at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Atlanta, while I was on a road trip. In light of the privacy issues involved I will call him “John Smith” for two reasons—to save him any embarrassment about the personal details I will be sharing, and because that is his name, John Smith. When I made it home and heard about his hospital stay, I called to see what had happened.
It all began when John ate a little too much and may have drunk a bit too much at a party the night after Christmas. He woke up at 3 AM with chest pains. He lay there for a while, he said to me later, “I was just laying there thinking that all this pain—just to let me know I had overdone it—is serving no purpose at all. I knew when I went to bed I had overdone it.”
John finally got up and spent the next 14 hours at a nearby hospital. The staff there found nothing wrong. When he left, they suggested he might want to follow up with a cardiologist. “I still see nothing for certain,” the cardiologist said after yet another battery of tests, “but just to make sure, why don’t I do a heart catheterization? Can you be at the hospital at 4:30 AM tomorrow?” Now, John’s a skeptic and his first thought was that this guy seemed in a hurry to make some money. He considered not doing it at all, but in the end he went ahead with the procedure.
I knew where this was going, and I was sure I’d be more than a little uncomfortable if I didn’t crack a joke or change the subject. Discussing events that remind me of my own mortality gives me the willies, it’s probably my age.
But a joke was out of the question, so I decided to share the story of my friend Adam, who works these days in Naples, Italy. He and John both knew a lot about two New Years things—being hospitalized this New Year’s Eve and fireworks. You see, John, when he’s not hospitalized on New Year’s Eve, by midnight has had a few too many and is happily shooting off fireworks out in front of his house. Adam knows about New Years fireworks from a different perspective.
In Naples, Adam decided to make some lasagna two days before New Year’s and cut off the end of his thumb. He was slicing onions, and he left a lot of his thumb on the cutting board in the kitchen as he ran for his phone. The paramedics took him and his thumb to the hospital. In the ER, they did what they usually do when you cut off that much of your thumb—they threw away the piece of thumb and told him he’d need skin graft surgery. Although they couldn’t perform the surgery until New Year’s Day, they admitted him right away. Adam said, “They told me at this time of year, you take the bed when you can get it and await your turn in surgery. If you don’t take the bed, by New Year’s Eve all the beds in the Hand Surgery Ward are filled up with young people who celebrated the New Year shooting off illegal fireworks.” The chief of surgery morbidly observed, “Dozens of them will blow their hands off at midnight.” Sure enough, Adam met some of them before he could get his turn in surgery.
Now that was a masterful job of brightening the mood, wasn’t it? John said, “Thanks for telling me about Adam. Now I know how it could have been worse, I could have blown off my hand shooting off fireworks, then had this problem. Now, will you let me finish my story?”
It gets worse. It seems that cardiac catheterizations are done with the patient fully conscious and following the process on TV monitors along with the doctor. What fun! Fifteen minutes into John’s session, the cardiologist has matter-of-factly showed John two blocked arteries, a nearly ruptured blood vessel, and indications of a problem with John’s right carotid artery. He wrapped things up early by saying, “I can’t finish this, I need to get you to surgery.” But he needed to look at those carotid arteries first, again with John conscious and observing the process. Less than 24 hours later, John had a new stent in his carotid artery, two new heart bypasses, a foot-long incision in his chest and piano wire wrapped around his sternum to hold him together.
OK, he’s gotten to me now—I am starting to feel pain in my chest, and I am standing stock still, petrified. “I could have died,” John told me, “but it was really odd, I wasn’t the least bit afraid—in fact I was fascinated with all of it.” My friend John Smith is now what they used to call “a little touched in the head.” The world is suddenly “fascinating” to him. He has had a guided tour of the inside of his chest, followed by an up close and personal look at the arteries supplying blood to his brain, and double bypass surgery. Fascinating, my foot.
Oh, and that pain he was bemoaning on the night after Christmas? It turns out the cardiologist calls John’s kind of problem “a widow-maker.” It often blows up with fatal consequences and no warning. That pain without a purpose? It saved his life.
It all began when John ate a little too much and may have drunk a bit too much at a party the night after Christmas. He woke up at 3 AM with chest pains. He lay there for a while, he said to me later, “I was just laying there thinking that all this pain—just to let me know I had overdone it—is serving no purpose at all. I knew when I went to bed I had overdone it.”
John finally got up and spent the next 14 hours at a nearby hospital. The staff there found nothing wrong. When he left, they suggested he might want to follow up with a cardiologist. “I still see nothing for certain,” the cardiologist said after yet another battery of tests, “but just to make sure, why don’t I do a heart catheterization? Can you be at the hospital at 4:30 AM tomorrow?” Now, John’s a skeptic and his first thought was that this guy seemed in a hurry to make some money. He considered not doing it at all, but in the end he went ahead with the procedure.
I knew where this was going, and I was sure I’d be more than a little uncomfortable if I didn’t crack a joke or change the subject. Discussing events that remind me of my own mortality gives me the willies, it’s probably my age.
But a joke was out of the question, so I decided to share the story of my friend Adam, who works these days in Naples, Italy. He and John both knew a lot about two New Years things—being hospitalized this New Year’s Eve and fireworks. You see, John, when he’s not hospitalized on New Year’s Eve, by midnight has had a few too many and is happily shooting off fireworks out in front of his house. Adam knows about New Years fireworks from a different perspective.
In Naples, Adam decided to make some lasagna two days before New Year’s and cut off the end of his thumb. He was slicing onions, and he left a lot of his thumb on the cutting board in the kitchen as he ran for his phone. The paramedics took him and his thumb to the hospital. In the ER, they did what they usually do when you cut off that much of your thumb—they threw away the piece of thumb and told him he’d need skin graft surgery. Although they couldn’t perform the surgery until New Year’s Day, they admitted him right away. Adam said, “They told me at this time of year, you take the bed when you can get it and await your turn in surgery. If you don’t take the bed, by New Year’s Eve all the beds in the Hand Surgery Ward are filled up with young people who celebrated the New Year shooting off illegal fireworks.” The chief of surgery morbidly observed, “Dozens of them will blow their hands off at midnight.” Sure enough, Adam met some of them before he could get his turn in surgery.
Now that was a masterful job of brightening the mood, wasn’t it? John said, “Thanks for telling me about Adam. Now I know how it could have been worse, I could have blown off my hand shooting off fireworks, then had this problem. Now, will you let me finish my story?”
It gets worse. It seems that cardiac catheterizations are done with the patient fully conscious and following the process on TV monitors along with the doctor. What fun! Fifteen minutes into John’s session, the cardiologist has matter-of-factly showed John two blocked arteries, a nearly ruptured blood vessel, and indications of a problem with John’s right carotid artery. He wrapped things up early by saying, “I can’t finish this, I need to get you to surgery.” But he needed to look at those carotid arteries first, again with John conscious and observing the process. Less than 24 hours later, John had a new stent in his carotid artery, two new heart bypasses, a foot-long incision in his chest and piano wire wrapped around his sternum to hold him together.
OK, he’s gotten to me now—I am starting to feel pain in my chest, and I am standing stock still, petrified. “I could have died,” John told me, “but it was really odd, I wasn’t the least bit afraid—in fact I was fascinated with all of it.” My friend John Smith is now what they used to call “a little touched in the head.” The world is suddenly “fascinating” to him. He has had a guided tour of the inside of his chest, followed by an up close and personal look at the arteries supplying blood to his brain, and double bypass surgery. Fascinating, my foot.
Oh, and that pain he was bemoaning on the night after Christmas? It turns out the cardiologist calls John’s kind of problem “a widow-maker.” It often blows up with fatal consequences and no warning. That pain without a purpose? It saved his life.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Transmogrification in Chicago
Transmogrification noun: the act of changing or altering greatly, often with grotesque or humorous effect.
I grew up in Chicago, a while ago. I spent a little more than half my life so far there. That experience has given me a special perspective on transmogrification and it's time I shared it with you.
Not everyone knows this, but the Chicago Bears were among the founding members of the NFL and today they remain the only franchise in history to accumulate 700 wins. But my years in Chicago coincided with perhaps the lowest point in their storied history. Sure, they won the championship in 1963, but just my luck, that was the year before my parents allowed a TV into our house. After that, the Bears spent 13 long years without reaching the playoffs, and only twice had a winning record. Why? Well, I think it was a growing scourge I call QB transmogrification, visible to the naked eye only during playoff games.
The Bears finally made it to the playoffs again in 1977, and the first in a series of strange events took place. After leading the Bears to the playoffs, their quarterback, Bob Avellini, threw four interceptions against the Dallas Cowboys, setting a team record for interceptions in a playoff game--in a word, he was transmogrified. In 1979, the Bears were once again in the playoffs. This time, QB Mike Phipps was driving the team for the winning touchdown, only to throw his 2nd interception of the game in the end zone--transmogrified.
In 1982, the Bears drafted another quarterback, this one from Brigham Young University, Jim McMahon. McMahon had a knack for playing the game and was soon succeeding like few others had before him. He quickly established himself as the starter.
But the transmogrifications continued. In the playoffs following the 1984 season, with starter McMahon out for the season, backup QB Steve Fuller was sacked 9 times and threw an interception. The Bears were shut out, Fuller transmogrified. But why am I calling all of these events "transmogrifications?" What would you call it when a Bear suddenly and grotesquely turns into a goat?
I moved away to Atlanta the following Spring. What do you think happened next? Along came the 1985 Bears, led by Hall of Famers Dan Hampton, Mike Singletary and Walter Payton, with colorful QB Jim McMahon and track star-turned wide receiver, Willie Gault. They finished the season 15 and 1, and went on to win their first Super Bowl. My punishment.
It took 21 years, with numerous quarterbacks undergoing transmogrification along the way, but the Bears once again reached the Super Bowl in 2006 on the strength of their defense and a marvelous rookie kick returner by the name of Devin Hester. There the Bears' QB, Rex Grossman, coming off a breakout season in which he threw for more than 3,000 yards and 23 touchdowns, transmogrified just the same. He fumbled twice and threw two interceptions, one for a touchdown. The Bears lost.
Then, in 2009, the Bears made a blockbuster trade for a new quarterback, Jay Cutler. The following year, they hired a new offensive coordinator, Mike Martz, and signed three free agents, including Julius Peppers, committing $100MM to the task. The investments paid off. The Bears were crowned champs of the NFC North, and last Sunday, they played for the conference championship and the right to return to the Super Bowl. You probably already guessed this, but that quarterback, Cutler? He transmogrified--this time into a pussycat, leaving at the half with an injured knee. Their 3rd string guy, Caleb Hanie, came in and took over the goat--I mean quarterback--position, throwing an interception to a 400 lb. nose tackle he "didn't see" standing in front of his intended receiver. The 400 lb. guy ran it back for the winning touchdown.
Transmogrification is all over the entertainment sector these days, with the Twilight series and a new TV show "Being Human" about a ghost, a vampire and a werewolf sharing an apartment.
But there's one more grotesque change that takes place now and again, you can guess what it is. It's me, I change from an ordinary human to a Bear (fan, that is) and I sing--
I grew up in Chicago, a while ago. I spent a little more than half my life so far there. That experience has given me a special perspective on transmogrification and it's time I shared it with you.
Not everyone knows this, but the Chicago Bears were among the founding members of the NFL and today they remain the only franchise in history to accumulate 700 wins. But my years in Chicago coincided with perhaps the lowest point in their storied history. Sure, they won the championship in 1963, but just my luck, that was the year before my parents allowed a TV into our house. After that, the Bears spent 13 long years without reaching the playoffs, and only twice had a winning record. Why? Well, I think it was a growing scourge I call QB transmogrification, visible to the naked eye only during playoff games.
The Bears finally made it to the playoffs again in 1977, and the first in a series of strange events took place. After leading the Bears to the playoffs, their quarterback, Bob Avellini, threw four interceptions against the Dallas Cowboys, setting a team record for interceptions in a playoff game--in a word, he was transmogrified. In 1979, the Bears were once again in the playoffs. This time, QB Mike Phipps was driving the team for the winning touchdown, only to throw his 2nd interception of the game in the end zone--transmogrified.
In 1982, the Bears drafted another quarterback, this one from Brigham Young University, Jim McMahon. McMahon had a knack for playing the game and was soon succeeding like few others had before him. He quickly established himself as the starter.
But the transmogrifications continued. In the playoffs following the 1984 season, with starter McMahon out for the season, backup QB Steve Fuller was sacked 9 times and threw an interception. The Bears were shut out, Fuller transmogrified. But why am I calling all of these events "transmogrifications?" What would you call it when a Bear suddenly and grotesquely turns into a goat?
I moved away to Atlanta the following Spring. What do you think happened next? Along came the 1985 Bears, led by Hall of Famers Dan Hampton, Mike Singletary and Walter Payton, with colorful QB Jim McMahon and track star-turned wide receiver, Willie Gault. They finished the season 15 and 1, and went on to win their first Super Bowl. My punishment.
It took 21 years, with numerous quarterbacks undergoing transmogrification along the way, but the Bears once again reached the Super Bowl in 2006 on the strength of their defense and a marvelous rookie kick returner by the name of Devin Hester. There the Bears' QB, Rex Grossman, coming off a breakout season in which he threw for more than 3,000 yards and 23 touchdowns, transmogrified just the same. He fumbled twice and threw two interceptions, one for a touchdown. The Bears lost.
Then, in 2009, the Bears made a blockbuster trade for a new quarterback, Jay Cutler. The following year, they hired a new offensive coordinator, Mike Martz, and signed three free agents, including Julius Peppers, committing $100MM to the task. The investments paid off. The Bears were crowned champs of the NFC North, and last Sunday, they played for the conference championship and the right to return to the Super Bowl. You probably already guessed this, but that quarterback, Cutler? He transmogrified--this time into a pussycat, leaving at the half with an injured knee. Their 3rd string guy, Caleb Hanie, came in and took over the goat--I mean quarterback--position, throwing an interception to a 400 lb. nose tackle he "didn't see" standing in front of his intended receiver. The 400 lb. guy ran it back for the winning touchdown.
Transmogrification is all over the entertainment sector these days, with the Twilight series and a new TV show "Being Human" about a ghost, a vampire and a werewolf sharing an apartment.
But there's one more grotesque change that takes place now and again, you can guess what it is. It's me, I change from an ordinary human to a Bear (fan, that is) and I sing--
Bear down, Chicago Bears, make every play clear the
way for victory.Bear down, Chicago Bears, put up a fight with a might so
fearlessly.We'll never forget the way you thrilled
the nation, with your T-formation.Bear down, Chicago Bears and let them
know why you're wearing the crown.You're the pride and joy of
Illinois. Chicago Bears, bear down.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Socks On My Mind
Today I stepped out of my car to buy a paper and noticed something scary. I was wearing white socks and loafers. I stopped doing that in high school because it was so uncool, and now--- Who knows what's next. I called my sister with Merry Christmas on my mind and wound up sharing my horror about the white socks incident and she pointed out the only thing worse is wearing dark socks and shorts. I guess no matter how bad things are, things can always get worse. I say just shoot me if it ever gets that bad.
The question is, who will keep an eye on those things and punch my ticket when it needs to be done? No, not my dear spouse, I don't trust her with a responsibility like that--she is the sole beneficiary on my life insurance and pension, etc. I am almost afraid to go to sleep at night as it is.
I remember a novel with the plot line that someone orders a hit on himself, then wants to change his mind. Is that what would happen with me and the socks? No way! I will have taken leave of my senses if I wear dark socks and shorts, so revoking "the contract" would probably not even come to mind. Let me know if you will volunteer to cover this base and put me out of my misery if it comes to the point where I am wearing them. It's a job that needs doing.
The question is, who will keep an eye on those things and punch my ticket when it needs to be done? No, not my dear spouse, I don't trust her with a responsibility like that--she is the sole beneficiary on my life insurance and pension, etc. I am almost afraid to go to sleep at night as it is.
I remember a novel with the plot line that someone orders a hit on himself, then wants to change his mind. Is that what would happen with me and the socks? No way! I will have taken leave of my senses if I wear dark socks and shorts, so revoking "the contract" would probably not even come to mind. Let me know if you will volunteer to cover this base and put me out of my misery if it comes to the point where I am wearing them. It's a job that needs doing.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Return Bear
He stands alone now, although I think he was already unforgettable. Again and again in 2006 he caught people off guard, until they began to fear him. Once that fear took root, they all just avoided him. Avoiding him was preferred to letting him even have the chance to beat you. Avoiding him cost people territory every time. The habit became so entrenched that nobody thought twice about the territory they were giving away. Until the mighty Colts decided they were not afraid. So, the opening kick in the 2006 Super Bowl landed right in his arms, and he taught them to be afraid again. As if they were surprised, they watched him sprint 92 yards for a touchdown. Last night, he "bearly" missed breaking Brian Mitchell's record of 13 kick returns for TD's, being stopped at the 6-yard line after returning a kickoff 79 yards. The announcers had barely finished recounting some of the highlights of his career as a kick returner, when he grabbed a punt and returned it 64 yards for a touchdown. If you get a chance, go to the Chicago Bears' web site and see the compilation of his fourteen TD's in just five seasons. As the Bears' announcers put it—he is ridiculously good. The Return Bear from Chicago.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
A Christmas Carol
How many of us know the story of Ebenezer Scrooge? What do you think of when it comes to mind? I remember the old(est) movie, which dates back to 1938 and included June Lockhart in the cast. It turns out there have been seven movies, including Jim Carrey's Disney version from 2009. Whatever version comes to your mind, if you're like me, you are mostly recalling film adaptations and not the book. Oh, I know everyone remembers that it is based on Charles Dickens' novella of the same name first published in 1843. It appeared, to critical acclaim, just a few days before Christmas in 1843 (167 years ago today, in fact), and was immediately popular. You may not know this, but Dickens is credited with popularizing the term most of us have known all our lives— "Merry Christmas" (Wordplay: origins, meanings, and usage of the English language. University of Toronto Press, Robertson Cochrane 1996). Of course, he also created the terms "Scrooge" and "Bah, Humbug" that are in common usage today. But I mention all this because I have made it a practice in recent years to pick up the book itself and reread all or part of it. It is a remarkable piece of writing, and has far more depth than Albert Finney, Bill Murray or Jim Carrey provide on the screen. Pick it up and read it, if you have any time for reading this season. I think I downloaded it onto my Kindle for free as it is a public domain book.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
If The Recession Is Over, Where’s That Great New Job I Was Going to Have?
Economists are unusual people, you know? There was big news last week when the Business Cycle Dating Committee met. Only economists would need to have a committee on dating and link it to the business cycle. What fun! The dismal science must be trying to upgrade itself! Now, seriously the Committee really exists to develop a consensus on the turning points of the business cycle, specifically, the beginning and end of the recessionary part of the business cycle. The real news is the National Bureau of Economic Research has declared the Great Recession ended in June 2009 (that's more than a year ago, folks). Why call it"the Great Recession?" Well, it was longer than any other since Word War II (18 months). Also, the drop in economic output (GDP) was larger than any other in that time period (4.1% drop). The point that declaring the end of the recession fails to make is that only declares when the economy hit bottom—not that things have returned to normal. Precious little solace can be found in noting that at least things aren't getting worse. We are slowly climbing our way out, and the risk of slipping backward persists. But the real question is where are the jobs? Estimates are that more than 7 million jobs were lost during this recession. Does that mean that just 7 million people are unemployed? No, there are way more than that. The number still actively seeking employment is more like 12 million (using a 9.6% unemployment rate and a total labor force of more than 132 million). Add into that number those who are discouraged and no longer actively seeking work and there are an estimated 16 million who are unemployed.
Need more bad news? Fact is this recession has had a greater effect on employment than most. Some recessions have been short enough that most unemployment was brief, and some got by with reduced hours. This time with 16 months of recession, we received 21 months of net job losses. But the government can save me can't it? What about the stimulus spending? Here's how Dave Barry puts it—"See, when the government spends money, it creates jobs; whereas when the money is left in the hands of taxpayers, God only knows w. Bake it into pies, probably. Anything to avoid creating jobs."
So, should you just give up? Noooooo, just as in every recession since World War II, millions of people are being hired each month. I am not making this up. In July of this year, more than 3 million people found jobs. At the lowest point in this recession, there were more than 2.7 MM job openings. Don't believe me? Go look it up. It can be found in the Job Openings and Labor Turnover series published by the Bureau of Labor Statistics (www.bls.gov/jlt). You might also be surprised to know that, on average, more than 1.4 MM people quit their jobs each month throughout 2009. Back in 2007, the average was over 2.1 MM per month, but the fact remains there are jobs available even now.
SO how do we decide what to do? Ben Stein (of Ben Stein's Money and Ferris Bueller's Day Off fame) says this: "the indispensable first step to getting the things you want out of life is this: decide what you want." Richard Nelson Bolles, author of What Color Is Your Parachute?, the pre-eminent book on finding a job, says the beginning is to answer the What, Where and How questions—what do you want to do, where do you want to do it and how will you persuade the decision maker to hire you. SO you really can't get there until you decide where you are going. Once you do, you need to know which methods for finding a job work and which do not. If you're like me, you believe that a resume is the first step, followed by the launch of a barrage of them to any employer that looks likely. Turns out that is one of the least successful methods of hunting for a job. Here are the five least effective means of finding a job today: Looking for employer's job postings on the internet, mailing out resumes to employers at random, answering ads in professional or trade journals, answering ads in local newspapers and going to private employment agencies or recruiting firms. How about the five most effective? Knocking on the door of any employer that you'd like to work for, whether they have an opening or not, Using the Yellow Pages to find employers in the field that interests you in the town or city where you want to work, then visiting the employers listed there to ask if they are hiring for the kinds of talks that you can do, asking everyone you know for job leads, joining a job club, and, doing the work of answering the three questions asked above in excruciating detail and planning your search on that basis. "But those five most effective sound so hard, " you say. Well, it's a free country; you can choose to do what you want. As P. J. O'Rourke puts it, "America wasn't founded so that we could all be better. America was founded so we could all be anything we damned well pleased. There is only one basic human right, the right to do as you damn well please. And with it comes the only basic human duty, the duty to take the consequences."
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