Today Cardinal Ratzinger of Germany, 78 years old, was selected as the new Pope. He will take the name of Benedict XVI. He is one of the oldest Popes ever elected and the first Teutonic Pope since Victor II in the 11th Century.
Ratzinger is an arch-conservative who led the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith under John Paul II. As Dean of the College of Cardinals, he was the most influential member and had been considered a front runner by most Vatican watchers. Although Ratzinger is a European, this move was clearly made to send a message to North American and European latitudinarians that the traditional doctrines of the church will continue unabated.
Of course, new Popes sometimes rise above their background and heritage, as John did in the 1960s. We will have to watch and wait to see the outcome. On the other hand, the Pope's chosen name aligns well with the Prophecy of Saint Malachy, who predicted this Pope would be "from the olive." The Benedictines are sometimes called "Olivetans." Not that Ratzinger is a Benedictine, but the choice of name implies a connection.
Meanwhile, I continue to work on my own writings with the hope of publishing a greater number of my works. My novel is moving along, albeit slowly.
I think I am getting cabin fever from hanging around the apartment too much. I am going to try an excursion later this week, just to get some fresh air and mingle with some people.
Tomorrow night, a new nurse, Clarence, will come to "orientate" [sic]. If he works out well, I'm sure I will be able to provide him with more hours.
Today Brad will install his old video card into my computer; it's a 128 MB GeForceFX. I'm looking forward to the enhanced performance over my old GeForce4 MMX 64 MB.
The weather is cool, cloudy and pleasant. Last night there were showers throughout the county.
Rehab continues to drag its feet over my van. If I'd had the money I would have just paid the $500 for the tiedowns and gotten it over with.
More later!
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Saturday, April 09, 2005
As Fair and Balanced as a Rat's Ass on a Hot Plate
The heading for this post had nothing to do with anything, really. It just came to my mind as I was trying to think up a "real" title for today. Do funny metaphors and similes pop into your mind at any given time of the day or night? They do for me. I love to play with language; to interrupt customary discourse with something fresh and new. And preferably funny--humor helps immensely.
Any frequent visitor to my Web sites may have noticed a slight change. Yesterday I migrated all my old journal postings from 2003-2005 to this blogger address. That way I can free up disk space in my home page's directory for more pictures and text. The old journal took up so much disk space that I could no longer add new material to my personal page on RoadRunner.
Weather report: today is a sunny but cool day in San Diego. The sky is light blue and laced with clouds. Overall, it's quite pleasant. Why do I even bother mentioning the weather? Well, after Edith Smith, my grandmother, passed away in 1991 I saw some of her journal entries that she kept in a notebook. Always, the weather was mentioned. Same with my grandfather, Richard Smith, who died in 1988. He used his weather entries to remember how his gardening fared from year to year. These notations had a certain charm, a quaintness that I found somehow endearing. And besides, it is kinda cool to be able to look back and say, "oh yeah, last year at this time it was hotter than a firecracker on Venus!"
I wish I had been able to note more of my grandparents' lives--what they did and how. I remember what they used to tell me, but as a kid I only processed small amounts of the information. Here is what I do know:
My grandparents (my mother's parents) were born and raised in Providence, Rhode Island. My grandfather, Richard Laughton Smith, was the son of a pharmacist in Providence. His parents were divorced and he worked as a young man doing maintenance on the family rental properties, which were scattered over the city's domain. He had two sisters: Dorothy (the eldest) and ---- (I suddenly forgot the name) the youngest. They were both spinsters who died childless. Actually that's not completely true, Dorothy married a guy named George, and she had a stepson with him, but when "Dot" and George died (on the same day) they split the last remaining house, on 36 Geneva Street in Providence, with my grandfather and the stepson.
My grandmother's maiden name was Edith Lind. Although her family and my grandfather's family can trace their roots back to the founding of Rhode Island--supposedly I am a descendant of Roger Williams--the Lind family name originated in Denmark, from whence came one of my grandmother's grandparents. I also remember her mentioning "Grandpa Wild" who from the stories I heard, was just that.
My granfather studied to be a carpenter during the 20s. He worked on, among other things, the huge spiral staircases rich people so loved to install in their mansions at the time. Then in 1929 came the Crash, and he was out of work. He told me that he was working in a shop full of Italian Catholics, and he was let go because he was neither. Those were the grand old days of capitalism, when employers were free to discriminate.
My grandmother's family was large. She had several sisters, not all of whose names I can recall. The youngest was Louise ("Weezie"), then there was Laura, Martha ("Marty") and Jenny "Jen"). In 1935 my granparents came out to San Diego in the family Dodge. My grandmother's father had been injured in a car accident and had won a settlement that allowed him to move his family out West. My uncle, David Smith, was a small boy at the time and also rode out with the family.
Upon arriving in San Diego, my great-grandfather purchased a ranch out in El Cajon to raise poultry. My family referred to it as "The Chicken Ranch." My mother was born in Escondido during a period when my granfather was picking oranges for a living. Escondido at that time was just a simple, rural community. My mother, uncle and their cousins have many memories of life at "The Ranch," including confrontations with a stubborn turkey and a mean old sow. Supposedly my great-grandfather who had wanted to be the poultry farmer didn't have the heart to behead that old gobbler, and my granfather was compelled to do the ugly deed. That Ranch is still visible out on a hill off of old Highway 80 as you approach El Cajon. Some other buildings were added to it later.
Eventually my granparents struck out on their own and lived, among other places, in Point Loma. The old Theosphical Society buildings had been rented out and my family lived in one of them. Those buildings are now part of the Point Loma Nazarene College campus.
During WWII my grandfather worked at Convair, assembling the Navy's PBY amphibious aircraft. My grandparents moved to Linda Vista, which was a community built by the Federal Government to house war workers. After the war, my grandfather was laid off from his aircraft job and went to work for Western Parcel. This company did the deliveries for Sears all over San Diego County. He spent the rest of his working career as a driver and later a "helper" for Western Parcel, which was later called Cornell Cartage. Grandfather was a short man and hefting heavy refrigerators and stoves for a living definitely took a toll on his health.
My granparents bought a home in Linda Vista in 1960, on Upton Court. The houses in Linda Vista have a certain utilitarian charm. They were built to last 20 years, but most of them are still around today. The house, where my uncle still lives, is a simple, square, 2-bedroom 1-bath affair with a huge back yard. The yard is filled with trees, many of which my grandfather planted. One tiny "living Christmas tree" grew into a dominating giant pine during the time I was growing up.
My grandfather retired in 1966 at the age of 62. That was young to retire, but he was just burnt out from all those years of delivering furniture and appliances for the retailing giant. Out of boredom, he signed up as a Watkins salesman and went door-to-door throughout Linda Vista and Clairemont selling the famous Watkins spices, soaps and flavorings (chocolate pudding made with Watkins chocolate was the BEST!!). Just before retiring, he bought a 1964 Rambler American 2-door sedan. The plain but inexplicably pretty light-blue car with a sticky transmission and a flat-head six engine is still in use today. After my grandfather's heart condition made it impossible for him to continue to drive, he sold it to my best friend Harold, who partially restored it (it still needs a fresh coat of paint) and toodles around town in the antique.
Because my mother was single and worked full-time, I spent a lot of time at my grandparents' house. The special school bus for disabled kids dropped me off each afternoon around 3:30 at my grandparents' little yellow house. I would spend afternoons and evenings reading books from my uncle's copious library, or drawing pictures and making up stories to go with them. I had modeling clay out of which I would fashion gigantic T Rexes and Moby Dicks to be slaughtered by adventurous imaginary hunters. And there were cartoons and "Dialing for Dollars" on TV. Often I would spend the weekends with them, and ate many delicious home-cooked meals that my grandmother prepared.
Eventually I went on to the university, graduate school and a career, and was able to see my grandparents less and less as they grew older. When they passed away, it left a huge hole in my heart wich will never be filled.
Any frequent visitor to my Web sites may have noticed a slight change. Yesterday I migrated all my old journal postings from 2003-2005 to this blogger address. That way I can free up disk space in my home page's directory for more pictures and text. The old journal took up so much disk space that I could no longer add new material to my personal page on RoadRunner.
Weather report: today is a sunny but cool day in San Diego. The sky is light blue and laced with clouds. Overall, it's quite pleasant. Why do I even bother mentioning the weather? Well, after Edith Smith, my grandmother, passed away in 1991 I saw some of her journal entries that she kept in a notebook. Always, the weather was mentioned. Same with my grandfather, Richard Smith, who died in 1988. He used his weather entries to remember how his gardening fared from year to year. These notations had a certain charm, a quaintness that I found somehow endearing. And besides, it is kinda cool to be able to look back and say, "oh yeah, last year at this time it was hotter than a firecracker on Venus!"
I wish I had been able to note more of my grandparents' lives--what they did and how. I remember what they used to tell me, but as a kid I only processed small amounts of the information. Here is what I do know:
My grandparents (my mother's parents) were born and raised in Providence, Rhode Island. My grandfather, Richard Laughton Smith, was the son of a pharmacist in Providence. His parents were divorced and he worked as a young man doing maintenance on the family rental properties, which were scattered over the city's domain. He had two sisters: Dorothy (the eldest) and ---- (I suddenly forgot the name) the youngest. They were both spinsters who died childless. Actually that's not completely true, Dorothy married a guy named George, and she had a stepson with him, but when "Dot" and George died (on the same day) they split the last remaining house, on 36 Geneva Street in Providence, with my grandfather and the stepson.
My grandmother's maiden name was Edith Lind. Although her family and my grandfather's family can trace their roots back to the founding of Rhode Island--supposedly I am a descendant of Roger Williams--the Lind family name originated in Denmark, from whence came one of my grandmother's grandparents. I also remember her mentioning "Grandpa Wild" who from the stories I heard, was just that.
My granfather studied to be a carpenter during the 20s. He worked on, among other things, the huge spiral staircases rich people so loved to install in their mansions at the time. Then in 1929 came the Crash, and he was out of work. He told me that he was working in a shop full of Italian Catholics, and he was let go because he was neither. Those were the grand old days of capitalism, when employers were free to discriminate.
My grandmother's family was large. She had several sisters, not all of whose names I can recall. The youngest was Louise ("Weezie"), then there was Laura, Martha ("Marty") and Jenny "Jen"). In 1935 my granparents came out to San Diego in the family Dodge. My grandmother's father had been injured in a car accident and had won a settlement that allowed him to move his family out West. My uncle, David Smith, was a small boy at the time and also rode out with the family.
Upon arriving in San Diego, my great-grandfather purchased a ranch out in El Cajon to raise poultry. My family referred to it as "The Chicken Ranch." My mother was born in Escondido during a period when my granfather was picking oranges for a living. Escondido at that time was just a simple, rural community. My mother, uncle and their cousins have many memories of life at "The Ranch," including confrontations with a stubborn turkey and a mean old sow. Supposedly my great-grandfather who had wanted to be the poultry farmer didn't have the heart to behead that old gobbler, and my granfather was compelled to do the ugly deed. That Ranch is still visible out on a hill off of old Highway 80 as you approach El Cajon. Some other buildings were added to it later.
Eventually my granparents struck out on their own and lived, among other places, in Point Loma. The old Theosphical Society buildings had been rented out and my family lived in one of them. Those buildings are now part of the Point Loma Nazarene College campus.
During WWII my grandfather worked at Convair, assembling the Navy's PBY amphibious aircraft. My grandparents moved to Linda Vista, which was a community built by the Federal Government to house war workers. After the war, my grandfather was laid off from his aircraft job and went to work for Western Parcel. This company did the deliveries for Sears all over San Diego County. He spent the rest of his working career as a driver and later a "helper" for Western Parcel, which was later called Cornell Cartage. Grandfather was a short man and hefting heavy refrigerators and stoves for a living definitely took a toll on his health.
My granparents bought a home in Linda Vista in 1960, on Upton Court. The houses in Linda Vista have a certain utilitarian charm. They were built to last 20 years, but most of them are still around today. The house, where my uncle still lives, is a simple, square, 2-bedroom 1-bath affair with a huge back yard. The yard is filled with trees, many of which my grandfather planted. One tiny "living Christmas tree" grew into a dominating giant pine during the time I was growing up.
My grandfather retired in 1966 at the age of 62. That was young to retire, but he was just burnt out from all those years of delivering furniture and appliances for the retailing giant. Out of boredom, he signed up as a Watkins salesman and went door-to-door throughout Linda Vista and Clairemont selling the famous Watkins spices, soaps and flavorings (chocolate pudding made with Watkins chocolate was the BEST!!). Just before retiring, he bought a 1964 Rambler American 2-door sedan. The plain but inexplicably pretty light-blue car with a sticky transmission and a flat-head six engine is still in use today. After my grandfather's heart condition made it impossible for him to continue to drive, he sold it to my best friend Harold, who partially restored it (it still needs a fresh coat of paint) and toodles around town in the antique.
Because my mother was single and worked full-time, I spent a lot of time at my grandparents' house. The special school bus for disabled kids dropped me off each afternoon around 3:30 at my grandparents' little yellow house. I would spend afternoons and evenings reading books from my uncle's copious library, or drawing pictures and making up stories to go with them. I had modeling clay out of which I would fashion gigantic T Rexes and Moby Dicks to be slaughtered by adventurous imaginary hunters. And there were cartoons and "Dialing for Dollars" on TV. Often I would spend the weekends with them, and ate many delicious home-cooked meals that my grandmother prepared.
Eventually I went on to the university, graduate school and a career, and was able to see my grandparents less and less as they grew older. When they passed away, it left a huge hole in my heart wich will never be filled.
Friday, April 08, 2005
Waiting for God(ot)
Ugh! I hate computers and the Internet!
Yesterday I spent a half-hour session updating my journal, only to have Blogger crash when I pressed the "publish" button. Someday, somehow, someone will win the Nobel Prize in Computer Science by figuring out why software is so much less reliable than hardware. And then maybe an entrepreneur will grow Bill Gates-rich inventing a solution to the problem! Meanwhile, I am initiating a new proceedure for my blogs: Write in Notepad first, then copy/paste the text and post!
It's been sunny and warm this week. Spring is truly upon us. Wednesday was the hottest, about 82 degrees downtown. That translates to about 85 where I live in Mira Mesa.
Yesterday IVR's driver finally showed up and picked up the hospital bed, Hoyer lift and suction machine. I am amazed at how much room I now have in the apartment. Joe dragged the big, blue recliner out of my bedroom and put it back in the living room where it belongs. I can invite company to sit comfortably now, instead of on the hardwood dining room chairs.
Since last Friday, my parents have been on vacation in Cabo. They will return home today. I doubt they will be in any mood to come visit, however. It's a 2-hour flight from Cabo to San Diego.
In world events, Terri Schiavo and the Pope are dead. Requiescant in pacem. Enough has been written and said about the Schiavo incident and I don't feel I can add anything more to the controversy. I will say that feeding tubes are not extraordinary medical treatment, and that brain damage is not brain death.
I'm not even sure that "extraordinary treatment" is a valid criterion in itself for end-of-life decisions. For example, I use a ventilator. Is that extraordinary treatment? I'm certain many people, when confronted with the concept of artificial life support, think "Oh my God, never!" As technology advances, however, the distinction between artificial and natural becomes increasingly fuzzy. In the future, we will be able to genetically enhance ourselves, add artificial organs and limbs, and inject nanobots into our bodies to supplement functionality or cure disease. As people become accustomed to new technologies, they will be increasingly less likely to regard them with "shock and awe."
Now, there are some hypocritical aspects to the Schiavo controversy as well. None of the Republicans and few Right-to-Lifers propose how to pay for people to be maintained in a nursing home. Bush has proposed massive cutbacks to the federal portion of Medicaid, which will cause states to reduce care. I suspect that, had Shiavo been a Medicaid patient rather than a private-pay patient (due to the money her husband obtained via a class-action suit), the hospice would have yanked her feeding tube long ago. While governor of Texas, Hypocrite-in-Chief Bush signed a law allowing hospitals to terminate life support against the wishes of the patient's family, if the hospitals deemed it necessary. I just read about two cases in Texas where that has happened. In the case of a baby, the hospital "pulled the plug" despite the mother's pleas. In the case of an adult man, they want to disconnect, but the family is hopeful to find another hospital to receive the patient before the act is carried out. Now, why would a hospital want to disconnect patients from life support? Couldn't be to save money, could it? Nah....
Finally, I did watch the final episode of Carnivale. Although I did enjoy it, the final episode did continue the flawed pattern of season 2, which progressed way to fast and left more open ends than it closed in its hurry to wrap everything up neatly. The real intruigue of the series was that it didn't wrap everything up; it left the viewers with a sense of mystery. But, the public and critics are spoiled in our instant-gratification culture. They want to know it all, and immediately if not sooner. More's the pity.
The rest of today I will be revising my story, "Bob's Basement Dive ," which I intend to send out next week.
More updates to come!
Yesterday I spent a half-hour session updating my journal, only to have Blogger crash when I pressed the "publish" button. Someday, somehow, someone will win the Nobel Prize in Computer Science by figuring out why software is so much less reliable than hardware. And then maybe an entrepreneur will grow Bill Gates-rich inventing a solution to the problem! Meanwhile, I am initiating a new proceedure for my blogs: Write in Notepad first, then copy/paste the text and post!
It's been sunny and warm this week. Spring is truly upon us. Wednesday was the hottest, about 82 degrees downtown. That translates to about 85 where I live in Mira Mesa.
Yesterday IVR's driver finally showed up and picked up the hospital bed, Hoyer lift and suction machine. I am amazed at how much room I now have in the apartment. Joe dragged the big, blue recliner out of my bedroom and put it back in the living room where it belongs. I can invite company to sit comfortably now, instead of on the hardwood dining room chairs.
Since last Friday, my parents have been on vacation in Cabo. They will return home today. I doubt they will be in any mood to come visit, however. It's a 2-hour flight from Cabo to San Diego.
In world events, Terri Schiavo and the Pope are dead. Requiescant in pacem. Enough has been written and said about the Schiavo incident and I don't feel I can add anything more to the controversy. I will say that feeding tubes are not extraordinary medical treatment, and that brain damage is not brain death.
I'm not even sure that "extraordinary treatment" is a valid criterion in itself for end-of-life decisions. For example, I use a ventilator. Is that extraordinary treatment? I'm certain many people, when confronted with the concept of artificial life support, think "Oh my God, never!" As technology advances, however, the distinction between artificial and natural becomes increasingly fuzzy. In the future, we will be able to genetically enhance ourselves, add artificial organs and limbs, and inject nanobots into our bodies to supplement functionality or cure disease. As people become accustomed to new technologies, they will be increasingly less likely to regard them with "shock and awe."
Now, there are some hypocritical aspects to the Schiavo controversy as well. None of the Republicans and few Right-to-Lifers propose how to pay for people to be maintained in a nursing home. Bush has proposed massive cutbacks to the federal portion of Medicaid, which will cause states to reduce care. I suspect that, had Shiavo been a Medicaid patient rather than a private-pay patient (due to the money her husband obtained via a class-action suit), the hospice would have yanked her feeding tube long ago. While governor of Texas, Hypocrite-in-Chief Bush signed a law allowing hospitals to terminate life support against the wishes of the patient's family, if the hospitals deemed it necessary. I just read about two cases in Texas where that has happened. In the case of a baby, the hospital "pulled the plug" despite the mother's pleas. In the case of an adult man, they want to disconnect, but the family is hopeful to find another hospital to receive the patient before the act is carried out. Now, why would a hospital want to disconnect patients from life support? Couldn't be to save money, could it? Nah....
Finally, I did watch the final episode of Carnivale. Although I did enjoy it, the final episode did continue the flawed pattern of season 2, which progressed way to fast and left more open ends than it closed in its hurry to wrap everything up neatly. The real intruigue of the series was that it didn't wrap everything up; it left the viewers with a sense of mystery. But, the public and critics are spoiled in our instant-gratification culture. They want to know it all, and immediately if not sooner. More's the pity.
The rest of today I will be revising my story, "Bob's Basement Dive ," which I intend to send out next week.
More updates to come!
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Happy Easter!
Today was a bright, sunny, warm Easter Sunday. The sky was azure and the horizon limited only by the cerulean shadows of the mountains to the east of the city. I wanted to attend services with my parents at Saint Gregory's today, but could not make the arrangements through MTS Access. Even though the church is a 10-minute drive away (in Scripps Ranch), MTS requires a commitment of two hours each way. This is because they perform a transfer to North County Transit in order to reach Scripps Ranch. This happens even though Scripps is a neighborhood within the city of San Diego. At the minimum, I would have been gone from my home five-seven hours in order to attend a one-hour mass. That was more trip time than I could stomach, I'm afraid.
My last writing class went well. We had a nice turnout of about 8 people on a cold and rainy night. There were four stories to read, and mine was one of them. A lot of people seemed to like it the best of all that I had submitted. One student asked me if there was "anything [I] don't write." "Not really," I replied, "I write all over the place." Then a bit later I made an offhand comment about how I had written the story one Sunday afternoon, which prompted Judy to say "You told me you are a fast typist, but typing is not the same as writing." Then I answered, "Well, for me it kind of is..." Then she said, jokingly (I hope), "Now everyone in the class hates you!" I guess it seemed to her that I was bragging. But for me it's like Mohammad Ali once said, "if you can do it, it ain't braggin'."
I got a lead from Aleyda Turuno of PAI about the Medicare problem. She gave me the number of another agency, HICAP. We'll see what they have to say tomorrow.
Last night I tried doing the chair-to-bed transfer with Minda. It started out well. When she picked me up, it felt just like it used to. But as we pivoted, I started losing altitude and she had to put me back in the chair. Luckily Harold was present to bail us out. Tomorrow morning I will try bed-to-chair with Minda and we will see if that goes any better.
I'm off to watch the season finale of Carnivale. I will write more tomorrow!
-- David
My last writing class went well. We had a nice turnout of about 8 people on a cold and rainy night. There were four stories to read, and mine was one of them. A lot of people seemed to like it the best of all that I had submitted. One student asked me if there was "anything [I] don't write." "Not really," I replied, "I write all over the place." Then a bit later I made an offhand comment about how I had written the story one Sunday afternoon, which prompted Judy to say "You told me you are a fast typist, but typing is not the same as writing." Then I answered, "Well, for me it kind of is..." Then she said, jokingly (I hope), "Now everyone in the class hates you!" I guess it seemed to her that I was bragging. But for me it's like Mohammad Ali once said, "if you can do it, it ain't braggin'."
I got a lead from Aleyda Turuno of PAI about the Medicare problem. She gave me the number of another agency, HICAP. We'll see what they have to say tomorrow.
Last night I tried doing the chair-to-bed transfer with Minda. It started out well. When she picked me up, it felt just like it used to. But as we pivoted, I started losing altitude and she had to put me back in the chair. Luckily Harold was present to bail us out. Tomorrow morning I will try bed-to-chair with Minda and we will see if that goes any better.
I'm off to watch the season finale of Carnivale. I will write more tomorrow!
-- David
Sunday, March 20, 2005
News of the Week
This week continued the activities and aggravations of the past month.
First, on Tuesday I attended the penultimate Read & Critique session. I got to read my "extra" story, "Ghostwalkers," for the class. Coming into this session, I thought that most people would have a problem with the non-linear plot. "Eh, what did happen and who dunnit?" But perhaps this class is savvy enough to "get it" without a lot of extra explanation. Still, valid points were made about believability issues and characterization. I will have fun putting the rest of the story together and trying to gain some editor's attention with it.
This week I will present a new story to the group. It's an SF/Horror crossover with a touch of satire. Satire is supposed to come from a Latin word meaning "mixed" and indeed this is a mixed work. But I think it's funny, and humor is a great reading companion.
I called everybody and their brother about the Medicare/Medi-Cal issues and still got nowhere. I finally called Aleyta at Protection and Advocacy and hope to hear from her on Wednesday. I need a better idea of what my rights are and what the available programs are; the state workers don't know or don't want to know. I am also dealing with DoR (Department of Rehabilitation) regarding my van. The state inspector wants an estimate of AC repair before any work can be done on the tiedowns. But AC estimates are not free! I called City Chevrolet and A&D Auto Electric (recommended by Jaime, the state auto inspector) and both companies want to charge $100-200. This is because they must first fill the system with Freon and pressure-test it. That involves labor and material costs. The Rehab counselor doesn't understand this and refuses to commit to paying for the estimate. So we are back at square one again.
On a positive note, I am doing all pivot transfers this week and I plan to disembarrass myself of the hospital bed and Hoyer lift by the end of the month! Yes, I am almost back!
First, on Tuesday I attended the penultimate Read & Critique session. I got to read my "extra" story, "Ghostwalkers," for the class. Coming into this session, I thought that most people would have a problem with the non-linear plot. "Eh, what did happen and who dunnit?" But perhaps this class is savvy enough to "get it" without a lot of extra explanation. Still, valid points were made about believability issues and characterization. I will have fun putting the rest of the story together and trying to gain some editor's attention with it.
This week I will present a new story to the group. It's an SF/Horror crossover with a touch of satire. Satire is supposed to come from a Latin word meaning "mixed" and indeed this is a mixed work. But I think it's funny, and humor is a great reading companion.
I called everybody and their brother about the Medicare/Medi-Cal issues and still got nowhere. I finally called Aleyta at Protection and Advocacy and hope to hear from her on Wednesday. I need a better idea of what my rights are and what the available programs are; the state workers don't know or don't want to know. I am also dealing with DoR (Department of Rehabilitation) regarding my van. The state inspector wants an estimate of AC repair before any work can be done on the tiedowns. But AC estimates are not free! I called City Chevrolet and A&D Auto Electric (recommended by Jaime, the state auto inspector) and both companies want to charge $100-200. This is because they must first fill the system with Freon and pressure-test it. That involves labor and material costs. The Rehab counselor doesn't understand this and refuses to commit to paying for the estimate. So we are back at square one again.
On a positive note, I am doing all pivot transfers this week and I plan to disembarrass myself of the hospital bed and Hoyer lift by the end of the month! Yes, I am almost back!
Thursday, March 17, 2005
Still Here
Time has flown by in the past month. I have been really busy with the Read & Critique class. Each week I read and mark up papers, sometimes as many as five. I have also been writing a lot, both for the class and for myself.
I am a judge for the San Diego Book Awards and have six books to read before April 10. So far, I've read two! They are fun and fast reading, and I have no doubt I will be able to adequately evaluate them all.
Interminable hours have passed while I made calls to the state, trying to get my health insurance switched from Cigna to Medicare. I want to get on a program that will pay for my Medicare premiums. Nobody in the state Medi-Cal offices seems to be able to give me a straight answer!
Tomorrow Harold will take my van in for an estimate of what it will cost to install a manual tiedown system to hold my wheelchair. This will allow me to ride as a passenger in my van. Yay!
I do expect to be able to drive again. My legs are growing stronger each week.
Don't forget to watch Carnivale and Deadwood on HBO!
I am a judge for the San Diego Book Awards and have six books to read before April 10. So far, I've read two! They are fun and fast reading, and I have no doubt I will be able to adequately evaluate them all.
Interminable hours have passed while I made calls to the state, trying to get my health insurance switched from Cigna to Medicare. I want to get on a program that will pay for my Medicare premiums. Nobody in the state Medi-Cal offices seems to be able to give me a straight answer!
Tomorrow Harold will take my van in for an estimate of what it will cost to install a manual tiedown system to hold my wheelchair. This will allow me to ride as a passenger in my van. Yay!
I do expect to be able to drive again. My legs are growing stronger each week.
Don't forget to watch Carnivale and Deadwood on HBO!
Monday, February 21, 2005
Il pleut sur la ville...
... Comme il pleure dans mon coeur.
It's been raining a lot lately, perhaps more this year than any on record. Lake Hodges may overflow for the first time since 1998. And it was just at 15% capacity last year.
I intend to go to the writing class tomorrow, but will have to reassess the situation in the morning. This week only two stories were submitted--then a third was added at the last moment--illness and lethargy are taking their toll.
I have been asked to be a judge in the annual contest of the SDBAA. Free books to read! And a new role for me, which is something that I have background for as a trained critic. I am eagerly anticipating my shipment in the mail.
What else? Oh yeah, Shadows of Saturn rejected Europa's Children. I need to figure out where to send that story next. Got to keep things in circulation.
I watched the latest episode of Carnivale last night on HBO. Although I still really enjoy the series, I don't find it as intriguing or gripping as last season. Critics hated the ambiguity of last year and the creators strived to make a clearer-cut story line. But I found the essential ambiguity, the wandering through the metaphorical "black blizzard" to be at the heart of the series. The "heart of darkness" is a murky thing, not to be grasped easily. Unless you are George Bush, manichean to the core.
Tonight's reality fare: Fear Factor: Vegas. To be followed immediately by an episode of the fictional series, Vegas. What does it say about a country when its fastest growing city is a wasteland of fake monuments, gambling and prostitution? There are more programs about Las Vegas on TV now than about New York or LA. Why is the public so fascinated by the gaudy extravagance of that gaudy desert hole during a time when the moral mood of the country--at least the red states--seems to be slouching back to the primordial ooze of creationism, censorship and war?
That's a topic to be explored at length later. Back to reading for me.
It's been raining a lot lately, perhaps more this year than any on record. Lake Hodges may overflow for the first time since 1998. And it was just at 15% capacity last year.
I intend to go to the writing class tomorrow, but will have to reassess the situation in the morning. This week only two stories were submitted--then a third was added at the last moment--illness and lethargy are taking their toll.
I have been asked to be a judge in the annual contest of the SDBAA. Free books to read! And a new role for me, which is something that I have background for as a trained critic. I am eagerly anticipating my shipment in the mail.
What else? Oh yeah, Shadows of Saturn rejected Europa's Children. I need to figure out where to send that story next. Got to keep things in circulation.
I watched the latest episode of Carnivale last night on HBO. Although I still really enjoy the series, I don't find it as intriguing or gripping as last season. Critics hated the ambiguity of last year and the creators strived to make a clearer-cut story line. But I found the essential ambiguity, the wandering through the metaphorical "black blizzard" to be at the heart of the series. The "heart of darkness" is a murky thing, not to be grasped easily. Unless you are George Bush, manichean to the core.
Tonight's reality fare: Fear Factor: Vegas. To be followed immediately by an episode of the fictional series, Vegas. What does it say about a country when its fastest growing city is a wasteland of fake monuments, gambling and prostitution? There are more programs about Las Vegas on TV now than about New York or LA. Why is the public so fascinated by the gaudy extravagance of that gaudy desert hole during a time when the moral mood of the country--at least the red states--seems to be slouching back to the primordial ooze of creationism, censorship and war?
That's a topic to be explored at length later. Back to reading for me.
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Nature Morte
Another week has flown, or rather drifted by.... Mostly outside my window, where it's been raining steadily, sometimes heavily, since Thursday. I love the soft, gray hues, the tender weeping sky full of shifting shapes. I appreciate the sizzling sound of raindrops splattering in puddles along the sidewalk, against the stucco walls of my apartment, simmering like a slowly boiling crock of homemade soup as the moisture drifts in tiny pearl-shaped orbs through the tree leaves outside my home.
The Read & Critique course continues to sail along nicely. It's great to experience the dedication and talent of each writer in the class. It's a pretty cordial group as well, so no one appears too intimidated to speak his or her mind. The group seemed to enjoy my little work, and I was really happy they all wanted to keep turning the pages to find out what would happen next. Of course, they and Judy wanted to see more depth in the world I am creating. But as it will probably be a novel, I am looking at this first "crappy draft" as more of an extended outline. It was amusing that several people obsessed on Roland's missing horse; I guess I will have to clear up that mystery soon enough! Perhaps the heroes dismembered and ate the horse out of the ravages of starvation-- nah.
I have begun putting together character sketches for the presumed novel. This has helped flesh out the story and the people in it. I will continue working on that this week.
Tomorrow my friends Katie and Jacque will come for a visit around 12:30. It will be fun to catch up with everyone's news. And the new dog of Jacque's.... Can't forget the dog! Hehehe
Meanwhile I continue to get stronger, la vita continua...
The Read & Critique course continues to sail along nicely. It's great to experience the dedication and talent of each writer in the class. It's a pretty cordial group as well, so no one appears too intimidated to speak his or her mind. The group seemed to enjoy my little work, and I was really happy they all wanted to keep turning the pages to find out what would happen next. Of course, they and Judy wanted to see more depth in the world I am creating. But as it will probably be a novel, I am looking at this first "crappy draft" as more of an extended outline. It was amusing that several people obsessed on Roland's missing horse; I guess I will have to clear up that mystery soon enough! Perhaps the heroes dismembered and ate the horse out of the ravages of starvation-- nah.
I have begun putting together character sketches for the presumed novel. This has helped flesh out the story and the people in it. I will continue working on that this week.
Tomorrow my friends Katie and Jacque will come for a visit around 12:30. It will be fun to catch up with everyone's news. And the new dog of Jacque's.... Can't forget the dog! Hehehe
Meanwhile I continue to get stronger, la vita continua...
Monday, February 07, 2005
An Esthetic Kind of Horror
Friday night my parents came over and, since we couldn't get "Sky Captain" we watched "The Grudge." I thought "The Grudge" was outstanding in many ways. The Japanese director based it on his earlier Japanese film, adapting it to, as he said, "what would scare an American audience." It truly was frightening!
While the storyline was hackneyed--a haunted house where things inevitably go bump in the night--the imagery was spectacularly evocative. It aroused tension, fright, rapid heartbeats and accomplished all this with a minimum of gore. As with "The Ring," the Japanese seem very adept at conjuring up disturbing, haunting visual elements.
The rest of the weekend was dullsville. I refused to watch the Superbowl; it just lost its allure once the Chargers fell out of the playoffs. I was gratified, however, to turn the game on at the end and see Rodney Harrison make the final, game-saving interception. As Homer Simpson would say, "In your face, Chargers!"
I also did my reading for the Read and Critique class. The stories were enjoyable and just reading them inspired me to do more. The next class is Tuesday evening, when my own story, "The Odyssey of St. Eudorus," will be up on the block. I think I am the only spec fiction writer in the class, though one other story came close. I don't know that there are sf/dark fantasy/horror fans in the class either, but I will report on the group's reaction after Tuesday.
I continue to work on leg excercises, and was thrilled to sleep in my own bed again Friday night.
While the storyline was hackneyed--a haunted house where things inevitably go bump in the night--the imagery was spectacularly evocative. It aroused tension, fright, rapid heartbeats and accomplished all this with a minimum of gore. As with "The Ring," the Japanese seem very adept at conjuring up disturbing, haunting visual elements.
The rest of the weekend was dullsville. I refused to watch the Superbowl; it just lost its allure once the Chargers fell out of the playoffs. I was gratified, however, to turn the game on at the end and see Rodney Harrison make the final, game-saving interception. As Homer Simpson would say, "In your face, Chargers!"
I also did my reading for the Read and Critique class. The stories were enjoyable and just reading them inspired me to do more. The next class is Tuesday evening, when my own story, "The Odyssey of St. Eudorus," will be up on the block. I think I am the only spec fiction writer in the class, though one other story came close. I don't know that there are sf/dark fantasy/horror fans in the class either, but I will report on the group's reaction after Tuesday.
I continue to work on leg excercises, and was thrilled to sleep in my own bed again Friday night.
Friday, February 04, 2005
The Unbelievable Heaviness of Being
Today Sharon came back over and we practiced transfers again. I definitely can feel some strength and tone returning to my legs--especially the left one. There was concern because my right foot hurts when I sit down, as it dives into the carpet toe-first and just bends at the ankle. Ouch!
But at least tonight I get to sleep in my own bed. Yay!
Today the state inspector, Jaime, took a look at my van. He gave it a passing grade, except that the front tires need rotation (hmm... they are brand new, and have only been driven to and from the grocery store and shop since the accident), and the air conditioning doesn't cool very fast. The inspector's approval should mean a green light to getting new tie-down straps installed ($500). Then I can get out of the house more.
The read and critique class is going well. If nothing else, just reading other people's work keeps me in the flow of writing too. When you see some good or bad point in someone else's work, you immediately begin to think about how that same point applies to you. There is a lot of reading: about 100 pages a week. And it's not just passive reading; it's real "hard work"--as George II says.
Speaking of Bush, I couldn't bear to listen to the idiot's State of the Union Address, or his inaugural. The country is moving backwards socially and politically. It's time for the blue states to opt out of this most imperfect union, and take our tax dollars with us! How much of that $300 billion that Bush blew in Iraq came from California? Quite a lot, I guess.
Last week I watched that Cole Porter bio-flick on DVD. It's called "De Lovely," I think. Should have been called "Queer Ear for the Gay Composer." Sheesh! "Enough already with the gay!" as Dr. Zoidberg might say.... I am open-minded and tolerant, but I don't need to see two guys kissing to get the point.
Tonight I hope to watch "Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow." And have dinner with my parents, which makes for a pleasant evening.
But at least tonight I get to sleep in my own bed. Yay!
Today the state inspector, Jaime, took a look at my van. He gave it a passing grade, except that the front tires need rotation (hmm... they are brand new, and have only been driven to and from the grocery store and shop since the accident), and the air conditioning doesn't cool very fast. The inspector's approval should mean a green light to getting new tie-down straps installed ($500). Then I can get out of the house more.
The read and critique class is going well. If nothing else, just reading other people's work keeps me in the flow of writing too. When you see some good or bad point in someone else's work, you immediately begin to think about how that same point applies to you. There is a lot of reading: about 100 pages a week. And it's not just passive reading; it's real "hard work"--as George II says.
Speaking of Bush, I couldn't bear to listen to the idiot's State of the Union Address, or his inaugural. The country is moving backwards socially and politically. It's time for the blue states to opt out of this most imperfect union, and take our tax dollars with us! How much of that $300 billion that Bush blew in Iraq came from California? Quite a lot, I guess.
Last week I watched that Cole Porter bio-flick on DVD. It's called "De Lovely," I think. Should have been called "Queer Ear for the Gay Composer." Sheesh! "Enough already with the gay!" as Dr. Zoidberg might say.... I am open-minded and tolerant, but I don't need to see two guys kissing to get the point.
Tonight I hope to watch "Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow." And have dinner with my parents, which makes for a pleasant evening.
Friday, January 28, 2005
Welcome to my new blog!
I recently discovered the drawback to using FrontPage as my Web editor. RoadRunner allows 5 mb of disk space on their server for so-called "free personal pages." Since I've been updating my journal regularly, I used up the space RoadRunner has alloted. This caught me by surprise, as I used to have much more "stuff" on my old AOL page. But FrontPage makes all kinds of backup and virtual files, duplicating each and every page and image I post!
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
Btw, I did get into the writing class at UCSD. They had an opening turn up after all and I was at the top of the list. So my ego is a little bit assuaged. ;-) The class starts on January 18, so now I need to plan the logistics. Life was so much simpler when I could just drive!! Grrrr....
:-/
Also, we got the x-rays from the Evil Dr. Phibes, er... T yesterday and my dad took them promptly to Dr. Freeman's office. No word today, but then it's a holiday week and everyone is goofing off. Dr. Landers's nurse practitioner did admit to me yesterday that there is "no love lost" between Landers and T. But, getting him (Landers) to do anything has been almost impossible. Landers's nurse said "Doctors just don't interfere with each other that way." Then they bitch and moan about malpractice! Seems to me there would be fewer losses if they would police themselves better, rather than waiting to react to lawsuits.
:-/
Also, we got the x-rays from the Evil Dr. Phibes, er... T yesterday and my dad took them promptly to Dr. Freeman's office. No word today, but then it's a holiday week and everyone is goofing off. Dr. Landers's nurse practitioner did admit to me yesterday that there is "no love lost" between Landers and T. But, getting him (Landers) to do anything has been almost impossible. Landers's nurse said "Doctors just don't interfere with each other that way." Then they bitch and moan about malpractice! Seems to me there would be fewer losses if they would police themselves better, rather than waiting to react to lawsuits.
Friday, December 24, 2004
It's Christmas Eve!
A quiet day for me. My parents are having the festivities over at their home. The grandkids will be there, along with their parents. They will attend the 5:00 Vigil Mass: the one for all the kiddies. Then they will have dinner and open packages. This is the first time in my life I won't be attending. I thought about taking that MTS Access mini-bus over, but I've only been on that thing once and am not that confident in it. If MTS ended up stranding me at my parents', it would not be a good night for all!
Tomorrow my parents will come over and bring my uncle. A nice, casual day like that is much more to my tastes.
Weather-wise, it's been sunny and warm this week: low 70s throughout the urban parts of the county.
Tomorrow my parents will come over and bring my uncle. A nice, casual day like that is much more to my tastes.
Weather-wise, it's been sunny and warm this week: low 70s throughout the urban parts of the county.
Thursday, December 23, 2004
SOSDD
Today Sue, Dr. Landers's nurse, called before I got up and I wasn't able to reach her later, as Landers's office is closed for the rest of the week. Sharp's Patient Relations representative wasn't able to accomplish anything either. She called this morning and repeated what Paula had already said, that we will hear from Dr. T when he comes back on Monday.
It seems that no one really gives a damn....
It seems that no one really gives a damn....
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Today the medical saga continues. My dad came over and picked up my written request about 10:30 this morning and drove to T's office on Frost Street, across from Sharp Memorial, where T is a practicing surgeon.
When my dad arrived and presented Paula, T's secretary, with the letter, she insisted that they "do not give out originals" of x-rays and wanted him to pay for them. Then Paula told him she could not release the copies anyway, since Dr. T is out of town and he has to personally approve giving the x-rays out. So my dad was sent away with nothing, and I have nothing yet for Freeman to look at. This is crazy!!
Iliana, my Maxim case manager called Paula later in the afternoon and got the same story, with a promise that T's office will call me Monday. Later today I called Dr. Landers's nurse practitioner, Sue (she was out of the office) and left her a voice mail about the situation. Then I called Freeman and left him a description of the problems with T also.
Finally tonight about 4:35 I called Sharp's Patient Relations hotline and told a woman named Patrice about the issues with T. She was obviously unhappy with the situation, especially concerning how T's secretary wanted to charge my dad and then refused to give the x-ray copies. Patrice tried to call T's office but they were gone. Since Patrice will be out of the office tomorrow she promised that an associate of hers will call T and see if her office (Patient Relations) can free up the x-rays before 'Xmas.'
More tomorrow!
When my dad arrived and presented Paula, T's secretary, with the letter, she insisted that they "do not give out originals" of x-rays and wanted him to pay for them. Then Paula told him she could not release the copies anyway, since Dr. T is out of town and he has to personally approve giving the x-rays out. So my dad was sent away with nothing, and I have nothing yet for Freeman to look at. This is crazy!!
Iliana, my Maxim case manager called Paula later in the afternoon and got the same story, with a promise that T's office will call me Monday. Later today I called Dr. Landers's nurse practitioner, Sue (she was out of the office) and left her a voice mail about the situation. Then I called Freeman and left him a description of the problems with T also.
Finally tonight about 4:35 I called Sharp's Patient Relations hotline and told a woman named Patrice about the issues with T. She was obviously unhappy with the situation, especially concerning how T's secretary wanted to charge my dad and then refused to give the x-ray copies. Patrice tried to call T's office but they were gone. Since Patrice will be out of the office tomorrow she promised that an associate of hers will call T and see if her office (Patient Relations) can free up the x-rays before 'Xmas.'
More tomorrow!
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
A bas les medecins!
Today I finally got a callback from Dr. Freeman. He seems very cordial on the phone. He told me that he got the records from Dr. T, but not the x-rays, and it's the latest x-rays he really needs to see. So, tomorrow my dad will carry a letter to T's office, demanding that he be given the x-rays, which he will then carry by hand to Freeman.This is all worse than getting a root canal at your local dentist! I have been working on the second opinion since November, about six weeks....More tomorrow!
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
Right now I'm waiting for a technician to come check out the state of my air mattress. The guy called an hour or more ago and still hasn't shown up. When he called, he said he couldn't find my address on "Caminito Ruiz." Well, duh! Maybe because it doesn't exist! Then he said his company had no record of ever having installed the mattress. When I pointed out to him that we got his company's number off the tag on the mattress, he kept asking if we got the number from the motor housing...
I realize that air mattresses are not the equivalent of Saturn V rockets, but the idiocy of the medical companies never ceases to amaze me.
Speaking of idiots, the secretary of my orthopedist promised to send my records over to Dr. Freeman, the new doctor. That was on Monday. Today when I called to check, she admitted that she hadn't: "Oh I'm just scatterbrained sometimes," she said. Me thinks she doth protest too much. Freeman's secretary already told me that the other guy's office "isn't good about sending records." I think the original orthopedist, whom I shall call "Dr. T" from now on, may just be beginning to suspect the jig is up on his neglectful treatment.
I realize that air mattresses are not the equivalent of Saturn V rockets, but the idiocy of the medical companies never ceases to amaze me.
Speaking of idiots, the secretary of my orthopedist promised to send my records over to Dr. Freeman, the new doctor. That was on Monday. Today when I called to check, she admitted that she hadn't: "Oh I'm just scatterbrained sometimes," she said. Me thinks she doth protest too much. Freeman's secretary already told me that the other guy's office "isn't good about sending records." I think the original orthopedist, whom I shall call "Dr. T" from now on, may just be beginning to suspect the jig is up on his neglectful treatment.
I'm doing okay, but life is a tough struggle right now. I'd love to get outof my home and go shopping, hang out at Starbuck's, buy books, meet up withmy family for Sunday brunch. None of that is possible at present, since thestate still hasn't approved modifying my van so I can ride in it as apassenger. Driving again will be at some far-off date, if ever. I'm alsoseeking a second opinion from another orthopedic surgeon, as my originalone just doesn't seem to care about someone like me, who as he says is "notgoing to run or ski."Meanwhile, that anthology editor who had my story about the spiders (whichI turned in for SS II) wrote to me that he doesn't know when he'll finishthe book, since he lives in Florida and "lost a lot of stuff in thehurricanes." So I'm in the process of going over it again to sendelsewhere; eight months is enough for that work to hang in limbo. I'm goingto submit it to City Slab, even though a story set in suburbia (but, whatelse is there in San Diego?) might not be the perfect match for them. Thestory that Judy saw in part is also on my project list. But focusing ishard, after months of rotting my brain in the hospital and in bed at home.At least I'm back to writing every day now, even if it's only journalarticles in my website's blog.
Monday, December 06, 2004
Today hasn't been a particularly good day; another segment of a particularly bad year.
To start with, I went to a new orthopedist today. I was all set to get his second opinion on how my right leg is healing (or not healing). This was the leg that received the compound fractures during the accident. Unfortunately, when I got to the new doctor's office, it became apparent they hadn't looked at the documents I had sent them (at their request). Thus, they hadn't looked at the medical release form I had signed and hadn't gotten my records and x-rays from the first orthopedist. At least they seemed genuinely embarassed by the snafu. The new doctor promised to call me as soon as he got the records. At least they didn't charge me for the visit!
The second thing that happened was I just got an e-mail from Judy Reeves rejecting my application to her invitation-only "read and critique" course. I think this was my first rejection to a class since my sophomore year at high school. I'm not sure what happened. I sent her an excerpt of a rough draft, thinking that was what she wanted. Evidently not!
Oh well, back to the "writing board."
To start with, I went to a new orthopedist today. I was all set to get his second opinion on how my right leg is healing (or not healing). This was the leg that received the compound fractures during the accident. Unfortunately, when I got to the new doctor's office, it became apparent they hadn't looked at the documents I had sent them (at their request). Thus, they hadn't looked at the medical release form I had signed and hadn't gotten my records and x-rays from the first orthopedist. At least they seemed genuinely embarassed by the snafu. The new doctor promised to call me as soon as he got the records. At least they didn't charge me for the visit!
The second thing that happened was I just got an e-mail from Judy Reeves rejecting my application to her invitation-only "read and critique" course. I think this was my first rejection to a class since my sophomore year at high school. I'm not sure what happened. I sent her an excerpt of a rough draft, thinking that was what she wanted. Evidently not!
Oh well, back to the "writing board."
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