Category: Information

Measures

The coronavirus is creeping into our area (Ashland, southern Oregon). A case was confirmed in the county a few days ago. Friends forwarded information to us early Friday morning. Medical professionals, they’re sharing stories from the hospitals.

“…saw 6 cases of bilateral pneumonia in folks 60-80. All had to be
admitted…have NEVER seen 6 cases in one shift.
Absolutely no way to test them for Covid-19. All negative for regular flu.
One woman 60 yr. on Methotrexate. Very sick. (Asante ER)”

Testing kits aren’t available. We’re over sixty years old. My wife suffers RA. She decided to self-isolate and skipped her exercise class at the Family Y. With the chain as it is, that requires me to self-isolate with her.

We’re people who generally stay stocked up on supplies. We have a freezer chest to support our approach, and a pantry. A case of bottled water is kept on hand. We don’t use bottled water; this is for emergencies.

Portions of our philosophy can be ascribed to our parents’ attitudes, but we also went through typhoons and lived in earthquake-prone areas, and now live in a wildfire area. We want to always be prepared. Besides those factors, I’m a guy that always thinks that you should never run out of staples. You know you use it, you see your use rate, buy more before it’s gone, if you have the means and it’s available. Just common sense to me.

An inventory was conducted. Have thirty-six rolls of toilet paper on hand. There are two of us. Don’t need more, thanks. Several boxes of tissues, and cough drops. Enough coffee for about six weeks (yeah, we’re Costco shoppers).

We have personal hygiene products, and no need for more. Cleaning supplies are aplenty. Cheese. Tortillas. Guacamole. Romaine lettuce, onion, carrots, and celery. We also have frozen pizzas with cauliflower crusts on hand from Costco. Frozen blueberries and mangoes. So far, so good.

Lots of pasta (could use some sauce), rice, soup, wine and beer (a few bottles of each), black beans, lentils, bread (several loaves frozen as reserves), peanut butter (three extra large jars on hand), potatoes, jelly, oatmeal, flour, brown sugar, cane sugar.

I ended up buying more fresh fruits and veggies (like potatoes, sweet potatoes, broccoli, asparagus, bananas, pears, spinach, grapes), doughnuts (comfort food) (just a small pack), more frozen fruits for smoothies (my wife makes them for us several times a week), cat food, and eggs. (Seems like we can never have enough cat food on hand.)

Entertainment shouldn’t be an issue. We have the ‘net, broadcast and streaming TV, books, and jigsaw puzzles. We also bought painting supplies for a new project, and have yard work to do.

I can go for walks for exercise, we agreed, as long as I don’t contact others and clean up when I arrive back home.

The stores weren’t bad. I was worried as the parking lot was full. Cars were parked anywhere that was possible. As a man finished putting everything in his car, I made a deal with him; I’ll take his cart back for him, since I required one, and I’ll take his parking space. Yeah, wiped down his cart handles.

Inside the store (local place, Shop n’ Kart) everything was well-stocked. Not many shoppers. I did my thing without issue. All check-out islands were open. A cashier was immediately available. She was using disinfectant on everything.

She told me that I’d just missed the rush. When she’d come into work for the eight AM shift, it’d been a madhouse. My timing was golden.

Back home, we settled down to read the news and talk about new developments.

Here we go, life in the time of COVID-19. Be safe out there.

 

11

The Cat(s) & the CBD

We have three cats. We seem to always have at least three, as they show up seeking shelter and food, and we oblige. We look for the owners but the cats seemed to have been cast aside. Sad, but not surprising, because we live not far from an apartment complex, and we think cats are left behind there. We also take care of the neighbor’s cat, Pepper. This isn’t because our neighbor doesn’t take care of her, but because Pepper enjoys visiting us for food and comfort.

One of our cats, Boo, suffers from PTSD. We don’t know what happened to this big Grizzly of a beast (twenty-four pounds) but he’s afraid and stressed by everything from noises to movements to smells. Other cats bother him, too, especially males.

Pepper, the oldest of the group (fourteen plus years) is a female; my cats, Tucker (a big black and white dude) and Papi (aka Meep), are males who are too damn territorial and adversarial. Papi

IMG_0963

We’ve gotten them all under control (we’ve only had one fight this year, when Boo went to jump onto the bed where Tucker was sleeping, and Tucker, arising from slumber and startled, attacked), more or less, but we can’t give Boo the treatment and care he needs due to his PTSD. His beautiful black fur has become matted on the back, and he won’t permit grooming, reacting by hissing, swatting and nipping at hands and brushes. He’s come to tolerate us stroking him, but he can turn in a snap.

He needs to be groomed.

Enter the CBD.

Friends have used CBD with their animals, found success, and recommended that we try it. A local floof shop sells several options. Selecting a product that’s made to relax cats, I purchased a small bottle of CBD oils ($40). Knowing that Boo is leery of new smells and tastes, I resigned myself to a long introduction process to get him familiar with the smell and taste. Just two drops in whatever wet food we’re serving.

That’s where Pepper comes back into this. Boo will take a few nibbles and run away. Pepper wolves down whatever is left. Stiff and arthritic, the poor little callie often seems in pain to us. I groom her a few times a week; she relaxes most, then, but still seems stiff with pain. That is, until she had the CBD yesterday.

After eating, she curled up on a rug and deeply slept. I’d not witnessed Pepper sleeping like this for over six months, and I was so happy to see that take place. Seeing the effect on her gave me hope for Boo. When she showed  up this morning for breakfast, I specifically tried a larger dose on her, and she chowed that food down, and again, relaxed. My wife said that the CBD is worth it, even we only help Pepper cope with her pain and issues; I agree.

I’ve been giving the CBD for four days. Boo has taken in some. It does seem to have a calming and relaxing effect on him, too, but he’s a big cat and needs a larger dose. (Yes, patience, patience.) Little Papi and Tucker have also each had some. Papi, already a mellow fellow and the gang’s junior member, didn’t seem much different. Tucker, an older boy who enjoys sleep, slept more.

The experiment continues. I’ll let you know what happens.

 

5

Sunday’s Theme Music

In Costco yesterday. It was a convenience stop for us. It’s down the Interstate, so if we go over there, we generally stop in. Nothing essential was required. We gassed up and bought mixed nuts looked at the books. Their book selection has significantly changed, and it’s disappointing to us.

Costco was busy despite its new ‘no food samples’ policy. Costco was ready for it with every register manned (and do you know that Costco now has self-checkout registers?). I heard at least three mothers tell their children, “Don’t touch anything. Keep to your hands to yourself.” Those are words I used to hear all the time, but had seemed to fade away as parenting styles changed. Was it always being said, and I missed it? Or was it being revived as part of Coronavirus awareness?

Saw perhaps a half dozen people (including employees) wearing gloves, and about five wearing masks. I wondered, thinking about the cancellations of multiple world events, the corporation’s shutdown on travel (airlines are losing money), what was going to be the effect on Costco’s stock? On the one hand, business is booming. On the other, the global supply chain on which it depends and the consumerism that fuels it are going to be slammed. (Costco and other corporations have already said they’re scrambling to find supplies, but where do you turn in a global crisis?)

At the intersection of these observations, R.E.M.’s 1987 release, “It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)” was released into my stream.

It’s the end of the world as we know it (I had some time alone)
It’s the end of the world as we know it (I had some time alone)
It’s the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine (time I had some time alone)
I feel fine (I feel fine)

h/t to Songfacts.com

After Costco, it was on to Trader Joe’s, where it was business as usual.

0

Puzzle #5 Is Finished

We finished puzzle number five, the Casablanca movie poster (and also known as Schrödinger’s puzzle) this evening. We’d started it back around Feb. 11. Fifteen hundred pieces, it took us some time, but we’re pleased.

We thought two pieces were missing, and it bugged us. We’d bought the puzzle at the Goodwill; plots about hunting down the previous owners festered in me. Once we finished, though, we got down on our hands and knees to confirm pieces weren’t on the floor. We have an oriental rug under the dining room table where we worked on the puzzle. This Ravensburger puzzle’s pieces have a blue backside. And, yeah, the pieces were there.

Casablanca is considered a classic American film. One of the stars is Humphrey Bogart. He happens to star in the movie that’s definitely in my top ten list, African Queen, with Katherine Hepburn. Directed by John Huston, it’s based on a terrific E.M. Forester novel of the same name. I always worry that they’re going to remake African Queen, because a remake (or a reboot) will soil my memory. That’s petty and selfish, of course, but it’s my nature.

On to puzzle number six. Don’t know if we’ll devote as much time to it. Longer days of sunshine are arriving. Travel plans are in the air. So is yard work, and hanging around outside, which isn’t as fun in the cold weather. We’re warm weather people at heart.

I’ll let you know when we begin.

 

5

The Stock Market

There was a 2,000 point dip in the stock market (yeah, that’s a fun dip, innit) earlier this week. President Trump was quick to step forward with his insights.

“I think the financial markets are very upset when they look at the Democrat candidates standing on that stage, making fools out of themselves, and they say, ‘If we ever have a president like this,’” Trump said, referring to the most recent Democratic presidential debate held in South Carolina. “When they look at the statements made by the people standing behind those podiums, I think that has a huge effect.”

h/t to Vox.com

Trump made those comments on Wednesday, Feb. 26, 2020. The Democratic debate was the previous night. As others pointed out, the stock market posted their losses and closed on Monday and Tuesday before the debate.

Let’s ignore that the debate happened after the losses. Trump seems to have a poor view of people trading on the stock exchange. He’s essentially suggesting that they’re so ignorant and weak-willed that a debate between the Democratic candidates to be POTUS would worry those traders and send stocks plunging.

The second aspect of it is that he’s discounting his own ability to affect the stock market. He’s in charge, but he thinks this debate between candidates to be the nominee has greater influence than him.

Wow. Talk about a lack of confidence, and high levels of desperation.

What most analysts (and non-analysts) believe is that the spreading coronavirus is affecting supply chains, travel, and productivity. They worry that a spreading virus (here’s a nifty site where you can track it) and the threat of greater quarantines and less travel will affect companies’ profitability. They base this on companies like Apple and Pepsico already warning that the coronavirus is negatively affecting their earnings, that they’re playing soccer games in empty stadiums in Italy, that the 2020 Olympics in Tokyo is in danger of being cancelled, and that Delta Airline slashed flights to and from South Korea this week. With travel down, tourism will drop. So will consumer spending. It’s all connected.

President Trump doesn’t believe any of that, of course. He’d rather escape responsibility for anything bad that happens while he’s POTUS. So much easier to blame others.

It doesn’t bode well for the future, does it?

 

 

 

0

The Smells

Once again, we’re faced with some lies being spread. This time, it’s being claimed that Bernie Sanders said that he thinks black people smell.

First, WTF is off with our society that we carry the whole smell thing so far? We’re so aghast at gas from a fart, appalled by BO, etc.

Bad smells coming from somebody can be signs of things gone wrong, like emotional problems, economic strife, and health issues. Besides, as others have noted, everybody farts; everyone has odors. Eating black beans (which I love, damn it) (and pinto beans) will guarantee that I’ll fart. So will grapes (which I also love).

One lowpoint in my military career came about because of another’s body odor. A large white man working in another section and suffered from excessive sweating, which carried a pungent odor.

He came to me one day asking for advice, explaining his problem and breaking down in tears as he did. He’d been dealing with this, and with the taunting and bullying and looks that came with it, since he was a child. While talking with him about the multiple possible causes, I referred him to medical assistance. He’d already been there, of course.

The young officer who supervised him visited me a few weeks later, asking about the same problem. I pointed out at that time that the issue wasn’t really that the man had a sweating and odor problem, but that we had a problem dealing with it. I wasn’t forceful enough, though, looking back.

(Of course, our whole thing about smell is probably a defense mechanism carried to an extreme; smelling foulness off of another probably harkens back to diseases and are encoded in us.) (That’s just my speculation.)

Second, no one group smells more or less than another.

I’ve been with a number of races. None seems to smell better or worse than another to me. Nor can I declare that one sex or one political group or religion smells better or worse than another, as a group. It’s an individual thing. I, a white man who sweats often (and farts after eating certain foods) and walks several miles a day, can be the odor in the room, despite regular showers, clean clothes (well, they were clean when I put them on),  decent health, and deodorant. Deal with it.

Third, Bernie Sanders never said that he thought black people smell. The race card is being played, once again, and it’s a lie, once again.

 

0

Wanted

I used to be such —

Ah, ‘used to be’. Famous words that begin many tales.

I used to be a model. I used to be a salesman. I used to be very flexible. I used to drink more coffee, stay up late and party, and go to work early.

Words of memory, ‘used to be’ invokes a sense of gentle passing on what was, a point to pivot onto the current moment. In my case…

I used to be such a desirable customer. Oh, the offers that came in the mail. First were the weekly avalanches of credit card and banking offers, magazines, and book and music clubs. They all wanted me. Every day, I considered and rejected suitors. No, you’re not for me, American Express. No thank you, Delta. I’ll pass today, Discover. Come back another day, Book of the Month.

Ed McMahon and American Family Publishing dropped in sometimes, delighting me with the news that I MAY HAVE ALREADY WON. I didn’t win, but I appreciated their optimism. Sometimes, Publishing Clearing House also came by to tell me that I’m a potential winner. Both wanted me to buy magazines. I did, once, because I was a newly appointed young adult, with an income, and I liked car magazines. They billed me later.

Dating services targeted me for a while. I guess they thought I was lonely. Then came ways to save via coupons on buying new checks, eating out at restaurants, getting my car repaired or painted, my carpet cleaned, and my windows washed.

As we passed into the last half of the past decade, suitors come less frequently. Maybe they were giving up. Their pitches changed. Cruise lines and vacation resorts showered me with beautiful people having wonderful times in beautiful, exotic locations. Politicians solicited my support and donations. I started hearing from hearing-aid companies for a while. A few companies wondered if I had enough health and life insurance. Others wanted me to plan for how my loved ones and I were going to be buried. Concerned investing firms approached, offering to buy me a meal while worrying whether I had enough money saved for retirement. I appreciated their efforts, but gently tore their offers in half and deposited them in the recycle bin.

A few realtors approached, asking if I wanted to sell my house, telling me that I could really make some money because they already had buyers lined up. The Great Cable Wars brought more offers for a few years in my late fifties as satellite dish companies sprang forward, trying to gain market share. Sometimes I received three offers in one day from them, three, I tell you, in one day. Yep, I was a wanted man.

Alas, I’m no longer a young adult. The mail suitors have disappeared. Oh, some have changed with the times and approach me via email, notably AARP and Viagra, competing against Bernie Sanders, Elizabeth Warren, the DNC, all who beseech me daily to give, give, give, along with urgent requests to sign petitions. Then,of course, they’ve called, too, but with caller ID, they soon learned that I don’t answer the phone.

Now, they’ve all stopped trying, it seems. All that remains is Spectrum. Having taken over Charter, they’re trying hard to win me. They’re doing it the old fashioned way, too, first with people coming door to door (charming young men) asking me how much I pay for my phone service and what Internet service provider I use, assuring me that I’ll do much better with them.

Then came the mail pieces, one every day, (except Monday, a holiday), but a piece came Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. Tears of memory sprang to my eyes as I realized, Spectrum wants me. It’d been so long. I almost hated tearing up their offers, and held off for a few minutes, thinking about their kindness, reaching out to me for my money, just like the old days.

“Thank you, Spectrum,” I whispered, and then tossed the offers away.

It feels good to be wanted.

6

A Noble Coffee House

I’ve been coming to Noble’s for a few weeks at this point. It’s a damn fine place. Larger community tables have outlets nearby, what we regulars (yeah, I’m a regular now) call a power table. Besides those tables are many tables that seat two to four. Conversation pits with sofas, easy chairs, and rockers offer comfortable options for chatting with friends.

Located among a few other businesses on the bottom of Fourth Street where it meets A Street at the bottom of the hill, still downtown but away from the Plaza, Noble’s is larger than other Ashland coffee shops, with space for fifty to sixty without too much problem (and there are days when it’s been packed). Large windows along one wall deliver delightful natural light but well-placed and assorted light fixtures (no fluorescent, thanks) help minimize shadows. And, for those who wish, several outside tables (on the sidewalk) give more seating and visiting options.

Coffee is very good to excellent. They offer two fresh options every day. My preference is a dark blend called Daydream. It’s all those thing you hear about in coffee commercials, like smooth, robust, and flavorful. I might have had an orgasm the first time I drank some.

Not surprising. Nobles uses fair-trade, organic coffee. The owner/operators go on buying and picking trips a few times per year. See that glass door in the corner? If you look in it, which they encourage, you’ll see their coffee roaster. Yes, it’s all roasted and ground on site.

Besides appealing, fresh coffee, tasty pastries like scones, muffins, and croissants (savory (like ham and cheese) or sweet (like chocolate)) will satisfy your peckishness. I’ve had the gluten-free pumpkin scone (baked in the kitchen in the back) three times (for quality purposes, of course), and tried the blueberry gf muffin twice. Now I need to talk myself out of buying one (or something else) every time I come. They’re addictive, I’m telling you. You’ve been warned.

Friendly baristas serve it up, the final touch on a proper coffee place. Come along. It’s a good place to meet with friends, take an energy break, study, read, or write a book.

 

1

Differences

I was thinking about how different people think, how approaches vary, from the balls out risk-everything, take no prisoners approach to the more cautious haste makes waste angle. Each of us develop preferences. We evolve and refine these from watching and listening to us, and then addressing our approaches based on our results.

I remember a philosophy class I took decades ago. The professor was a good friend. We regularly socialized outside of class before I ever took any of us classes. He and I were of very like minds, and I expected the class to be similarly aligned.

Most were. These were University of Maryland classes on Okinawa. Most attendees were military members or dependents. In this class, one woman, a security police airman who was a few years younger than me, was fearless about stating her positions.

I found her positions pretty shocking. For fun, she and her friends liked to drive around at night and deliberately run over animals. She yearned for days like the ‘wild west’, where if you thought someone was guilty, you called them out and shoot it out.

Those were two of the more extreme examples of how her thinking diverged from mine. The final part, however, was how she declared herself to be a good Christian. While I could appreciate and understand someone having views different from mine, and accept (with much disgust) that they thought so lightly of life that they killed for fun (and regaled us about how she and her friends thought it was so funny), I couldn’t grasp how she reconciled her views as a Christian with these attitudes toward killing and justice.

I still don’t.

And as I think of Donald Trump, and all that he’s been shown to have done, from his marriages and affairs, bankruptcies, attacks on others’ service to the United States, repeated lies and empty boasts, I think of his supporters. Like that woman in my philosophy class, I do not understand how they reconcile what they see, hear, know, and believe. I try to understand, partly from intellectual curiosity as well as trying to satisfy for myself that I’m not missing something, that I’m not living in a silo. I also try to understand it from a motivational point as a writer, feeding my characters.

Reality can be stranger than fiction, but I imagine that many of them don’t understand me and wonder how I’ve come to be a progressive liberal, because they think I’m destroying the nation, if not the world. Possibly somewhere, there’s a novelist trying to understand how I think, so they can feed their character, too.

 

5

Floofkeeping

Floofkeeping (floofinition) – 1. The occupation of owning and breeding animals. 2. The occupation of a floofkeeper.

In use: “Many people disliked floofkeepers, as breeding conditions led to deplorable puppy mills and too many kittens in cages desperate for homes.”

1

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