Mish-mash in the MixMaster

I originally came downstairs to my 'office' to work on the ghost story some more, and found a mouse in one of the mousetraps around my desk. It wasn't dead.

So, what do you do with a mouse so broken - and it was. Flushing it down the drain seems like adding insult to injury. But how to best put an end to it's misery? I might have summoned my house cat to take over, except we no longer have a house cat. So, squarely upon my shoulders the responsibility sits.

One of the hardest things in the world to do is to watch something die, even something as small and pestiferous as a mouse. When I hunted I always made sure the thing I killed died quickly. And I always felt that pain. I made sure that I never forgot that pain. I made a promise to myself that if I ever stopped feeling that pain I would stop hunting. I haven't stopped hunting, as much as I haven't been able to arrange for the trips. In other words, my not hunting is more circumstantial than intentional. Now you know a little bit more about me.

Also know that I've been fighting heart failure for the last few years; about a year ago I had a defibrillator/pacemaker implanted. Unlike Tony Stark, I did not come back as Iron Man. Life is. The long and short of it is: I have a personal understanding of how fragile life can be.

Add to this, how do I continue to work until I can finally take retirement? My plan to work for as long as I can has taken a different twist: as long as I can now means can I at least reach the full retirement age before dying? If that had been at the original 65-years-old, I'm there, and I can retire and pace myself a little better. Unfortunately, The Social Security goalposts have been moved: I now need to be at least 66 and four months old to retire with full benefits. 

I may not get there, or I might have to quit working sooner. My current job is not that hard, physically, but can be very stressful. And I have to juggle my medication regime around it. That caught up with me a couple of weeks ago, and I ended up in the hospital. One week of pay missing as a consequence, never mind the bills. At least the food was good.

What can I do?

I can find another job. That is a give-and-take: would I get as good insurance benefits as I do now? Could I even get the group insurance?

In a lot of ways I'm hostage to the corner of the envelope bracketed by age, bills, family needs, and a few other what-have-yous. These are my negatives. It's hard to see the positives.

Especially when I see a mouse pinned and broken in a mouse trap. It kind of became a metaphor for my life. 

I hate death. I am not afraid of death, or dying; got over that a while ago. I still hate death, though.

Dylan Thomas was right: "Go not gentle into that good night. / Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Yes, you can

Ghost Story? Not Yet

Just a quick note - no ghost story, but still working on it. 

Keep on keeping on.

Yes, you can!

Each Day is a Gift

 None of us is promised tomorrow. Each day is a gift. 

These are trite, cliché phrases. One shouldn't write cliché phrases. 

The truth is, though, none of are promised tomorrow. or even the rest of today. None of us is promised another sunrise, tequila or otherwise.

'What brought this on, Mister Madman,' you ask? 

I'll tell you. I'm a cyborg, what with the stents and implanted defibrillator/pacemaker; an electrified heart. All sweetness and light, right?

Apparently not.

 I spent the last few days in the hospital, being overly concerned with the status of my vital pump. 

I had scheduled myself for five hours of Saturday overtime to pad the paycheck a bit. I got two and a half hours in, had to take my half-hour break a bit early, then could only do one more hour of answering phones before it became too hard to answer them with a smile on my face, even after four doses of nitroglycerin.

That's when I called out, called my wife downstairs for a second opinion, then got bundled up to the hospital emergency room.

Fun times.

But I'm back, and alive, and none the worse for wear, in spite of having only the hospital TV and my own thoughts to keep me company. My wife brought me my phone and a couple of books I'd checked out later on (MUCH appreciated, especially the books: Edison's Alley (book 2 of the Accelerati series, intended Young Adults), and A Higher Call - more on this one when I finish it). But no laptop to type on, or paper to write on, and I had phone but no charger - needed to husband its strength as well as my own. I could read but not write. Ah, well.

While there, they would only allow one visitor at a time, and NO minors. Thus only my wife got to visit, but no Bear Cub. Now I'm home and the Cub and I are together, and bug-tussling enough to make up for lost time. 

I love that kid.

I was told by sweet wife that having me home relaxed the girl enough that she got to sleep fairly quickly, and my wife is happier as well. 

I'm happier, too. But I have a host of sonic patterns to unlearn. 

My wife was sitting up, reading, and the chair squeaked. No big deal, except it sounded just like the door to my room opening. My hospital room. which usually meant someone was there to wake me up and take my vital signs, if not a bit of blood.

I was awake in an instant.

Then I realized I was at home. 

Ah, well.

One other thing that came to mind last night, regarding hospitalization and visitors, was: what if I was truly dying, and wanted to say good-bye to everyone I conveniently could. The Bear Cub would have been left out, and she would have been the one most in need of such communications.

Thus the germ of a ghost story was spawned. 

I'll wrap it for today, but look for the ghost story before the weekend is over.

Remember to build for a thousand years, but be ready to leave for your final destination at any time.

To the best of your ability, leave nothing unfinished or unsaid. Bequeath the rest into good hands.

Yes, You Can!

What Makes Your Eyes Shine?

"Classical Music is for EVERYONE!" - Benjamin Zander

Benjamin Zander has a viewpoint: Everyone loves Classical Music, they just don't know it yet. If you don't believe me, click the link above. 

I have to admit that I'm wandering a bit, freely associating with what pops into my mind and trying to get a handle on why I am not very focused at the tasks at hand. 

Along the way, I tripped over the Ted talk that kicked off this post, which reminded me of Tommy Shaw and the Contemporary Youth Orchestra as well. And that rounded me back to shining eyes.

Shining eyes. 

Why were my eyes were shining? 

There are days that I cannot keep up with the simple job of troubleshooting the technology that allows our customers to access the website to do the things they wish to do. My eyes shine when I can help someone solve a problem that has troubled them for some time. My eyes also shine when I cannot.

And sometimes they shine when I cannot help the customer at all, and they take out their dissatisfaction on me. It's part of the job, but that doesn't make it any more pleasant.

Sometimes my eyes shine when I think of someone who is no longer living. That list grows longer, sometimes on a monthly basis.

One of these days my name will be on that list. I'm guessing that my eyes will be closed, not shining,  so it will be something of a moot point. While I regret any sorrow I add to the world, I hope someone's eyes will shine when they think of me. 

Come to think of it, I hope people when think of me now, their eyes shine. Why wait until later?

I should get down to something a little less morbid and a little more encouraging. 

What say about this Covid stuff? I hope you are alive and moving around, as much as people will let you all things considered.

If you've caught the bug, and you are reading this, I happy that you are alive. If you haven't caught the bug, by all means get vaccinated to prevent catching the bug. Y'know, kinda like we do for flu, or measles or chicken-pox when we were young. 

But I have heard some strange stuff: vaccinated people can get the bug from unvaccinated people. That's flat wrong; the whole point of the vaccination is that you wouldn't get the disease that you have been vaccinated for. 

Otherwise, what is the point of the vaccine?

The point of the vaccine is NOT to beat people up (sometimes literally) about whether or not you've gotten the vaccination in the first place.

A lot of nonsense has, what, brewed? appeared? been carried on the breeze? I don't know. All I know is that people have been saying things like what I mentioned above ("Non-vaccinated people give vaccinated people Covid"). 

I wish people would get it straight. Families have been split up over such nonsense.

The purpose of ANY vaccine is to prevent the disease the vaccine was cultured for. In other words, the flu vaccine doesn't cover you for Covid. All vaccines need the occasional booster to bring back full effective immunity levels (apparently, Covid need a booster more often than most diseases). Unless you have had the disease, you should get the vaccine. This goes for measles, chicken-pox, Covid, what-have-you.

All this noise about you being this kind of [fill in your favorite epithet here], if you do/don't get the vaccine should just stop.

And before you ask, I didn't get mumps, small-pox, polio, lockjaw, and a few other unpleasant diseases BECAUSE I was vaccinated. Even though I had little say in the matter at the time; my parents made that choice for me, I am very happy they decided for, and not against the vaccine. Small-pox can kill you outright, infantile paralysis (polio) can kill or cripple you. Nuff said.

I believe in vaccines.

Covid is dangerous. Being vaccinated against it is good. Berating people about their choice of vaccine, or whether to be vaccinated, is polarizing, pushing us apart as a society, not bringing us together. There is enough of this pushing us apart as it is.

The one thing that can potentially get us all on the same page is learning/education. And by education I am NOT meaning propaganda by one faction or another. 

The WHO, the CDC, and other such institutions have ended up being suspect by the way they've allowed governments with axes to grind fund/pull funding, dictate to, allowing themselves to be influenced. Whether they can be trusted, many people do not trust these medical oversight bodies to speak the straight truth (not naming names).

Rather than depend on these official bodies, my wife and I have chosen to fall back on what I have learned in my youth, as well as her nurse's training The both of us have kept up with the literature, and I mean before all the stuff bandied about by the media after Covid struck.

I will not recommend a vaccine type, or even insist that you get vaccinated. As I say, however, I believe in the benefit of vaccines.

Enough of this. Back to what kicked off this post in the first place: Shining Eyes.

As Benjamin Zander, and I after him, everybody loves classical music. Most people just don't know it yet. If you don't believe me, then click this LINK.

You may not agree with me, and that is fine. Just give it a chance ...

... A chance to make your eyes shine. 

Then see about making someone else's eyes shine. You can do it.

Yes, You Can!