I’m looking forward to December 24, 2036, and the date’s symmetry: 12/24/36. I’ll only be 80 then. Hope I have enough mind to enjoy that symmetry. It’s like one, two, three.
Friday’s Wandering Thought
Since retiring from the military in the 1990s, I’ve had health insurance through various Tricare programs, which replaced CHAMPUS. Most recently, my coverage was mandated to be Tricare for Life. It worked well. Of course, to continue using TFL, I was required to sign up for and start paying for Medicare once I became 65 years of age, which happened two years ago. This is a vein of the product called ‘Tricare for Life Medicare’.
I was recently hit with a bill for lab work done earlier this year. The lab bill was $300 and I had to pay $108 of that.
That surprised me. Investigating my benefits, I found that Medicare paid part. I thought TFL would cover the rest, but no; Tricare for Life Medicare doesn’t cover preventative lab work, only such work for life-threatening issues.
After a life of being pushed to be proactive and take preventative measures to find and treat health conditions in early stages, it seems like an odd turn of coverage. Makes me re-think what they were thinking when they called the program ‘Tricare for Life’.
Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts
Forty-one holiday bowl games are coming up in the next several weeks.
I live in Oregon. I’ve quasi-adopted the two major colleges’ sports team. More like surrendered than adopted, as the colleges and their sports teams are frequent news and conversation topics. Both college football teams are ‘ranked’ this year and will play in bowl games.
The names of these bowl games are psyche shredding. The Oregon State Beavers face Notre Dame in the Tony the Tiger Sun Bowl. Seriously.
Oregon University’s Ducks will play Liberty in the VRBO Fiesta Bowl.
You should check out the names of these corporate sponsored NCAA college football bowl games. Remember, this is about amateur sports. Among them is the Cricket Celebration Bowl in the Mercedes Benz Stadium. Avocados from Mexico Cure Bowl. Famous Toastery Bowl. Roofclaim.com Boca Raton Bowl.
I wonder how many years it’ll be before the teams have corporate sponsors. I’m sure many will watch the Nike Oregon University Ducks vs the Eli Lilly Fighting Irish of Notre Dame in the VRBO Fiesta Bowl or maybe, instead, the Columbia Sportswear Company Oregon State Beavers (sometimes just called the Columbia Beavers) against Freddie Mac Liberty University in the the Tony the Tiger Sun Bowl.
I don’t plan to watch any of them.
Friday’s Wandering Thoughts
I had a terrific workout this morning, focusing on balance, coordination, strength, and flexibility — and successfully got my underwear on. Damn things seem to have a mind of their own and mos def did not want to be near my body.
I empathize with them.
Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts
I’d noticed time and again how far back some people stop behind other cars at traffic lights. It surprises me to see a vehicle three to four car lengths behind the one in front of them. My wife always suggested that maybe something happened to them, and I agree; people carry baggage even as drivers. The things which happen to us often shape our behavior. Driving isn’t different. I recently learned about one driver and why she stops so far back.
My wife mentioned to her coffee group that I always wonder about it. A friend responded, “Well, he’d be wondering about me.” She then told a story about a serious traffic accident. She and the passenger barely survived. It was all about icy country roads on a snowy day and a car unable to stop behind them, pushing them forward and off an embankment into a ravine.
See, I still don’t understand why she would stop so far back when it was a car hitting her from behind that caused the issue, with exigent circumstances influencing the situation.
But I recognize that I’m trying to apply logic to what is emotional for her. In the end, I remind myself, what difference does it make how far back she stops? It bothers me on an intellectual level, but that’s my problem.
Another Wandering Thought
Yes, it’s a little early in the week for a rant, but here I am.
In July of 2023, Twitter was renamed X. Since then, there are many who still write things like, “X, formerly known as Twitter,” or some variation of that.
Do those posting that really think people need reminded? Are there people out there asking, “Say, whatever happened to Twitter? And what is this ‘X’?” Are people reading those posts and articles where it’s written, “X (formerly known as Twitter),” and then turning to others with a gasp of surprise and asking, “Did you know that Twitter is called X now?”
How many more months will pass before this trend ends? Do we need to have a New Year resolution about it?
The Writing Moment
The writing center — known by everyone other than him as a cofffee shop — had a full parking lot. With past experience as a guide, he thought that getting a prime writing table* wouldn’t be possible. Head for number two, he ordered his brain, which delivered the message to his body, which set his car on the required course.
Coffee shop number two was packed. He selected a tertiary choice location with plans to move to a better spot when one opened, and joined the short line to acquire the necessary hot and dark magic water that helped stimulate his writing efforts. As he stood there, movement flickered in his eyes’ left periphery. Leaning a little, he confirmed, people were leaving a prime space. Hustling followed as he relocated his gear and thanked the coffee gods.
The place, he realized as he picked up his coffee, was packed. Every table, prime or not, was in use. Both conversation pits were filled, and almost all the window bar seats were engaged. Five baristas in black outfits worked in mechanical precision behind the wood-encased retail island to restock food and dishware, prepare orders, take, or deliver them. About fifty people filled the small business.
The place’s warm hum keyed his sentimental side. Such a friendly, happening scene. While a few patrons were like him, solitary animals focused on keyboards, staring at phones, or reading books, most people were chatting and laughing in twos and threes as they ate breakfast sandwiches and pastries and sipped coffee drinks, chai, or tea. The scene made his heart swell three times its normal size.
Then he sipped his coffee twice — once to sample it, the second time to more fully appreciate its warm, bitter flavor, put his head down and started typing. An hour later, he looked up and smiled as he gazed across the quiet, almost empty place. Music unheard over the previous rattle and hum was audible. The baristas were reduced to two, and plenty of seats and tables were available. Take your pick.
How quickly things could change.
*The prime writing space is a table or counter with space for a laptop, mouse, and coffee, a chair, and an outlet, and is located two to three feet away from others for privacy and isolation.
Friday’s Wandering Thoughts
My wife and I are fumbling around plans to move to the northeastern US. Part of that is researching locales and checking out houses on real estate sites. Some of the interior decor ideas startle us, and not in good ways. We’ve always preferred lighter colors on our walls. Seeing them in cherry red, lemon yellow, and apple green — not infrequently in the same room — takes our breath away. We remind ourselves, it’s just paint.
Several facets strike us about these homes with brightly painted walls. They seem to be older homes, and they seem like they’re in places where cold, long winters are endured. Just saying.
Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts
Rain showers the street and sidewalks outside the coffee shop windows. Between the clouds and rain, gray smothers the day like swaths of gray flannel.
The coffee shop is cold. It’s always cold when the sun ain’t cracking through to brighten and warm us. Despite wearing a fleece jacket, I’m shivering, and my hands are cold. My wife, who suffers Renaud’s disease, would be in misery.
And I had to pee again. I finally decided to seek the answer about why I pee more often when I’m cold and did a search.
“Cold-induced diuresis,” thenakedscientists.com on the net informed me, basically an increase in urine due to more blood being filtered due to vasoconstriction to conserve heat, more or less.
At least I know the reason now. At least my laptop’s keyboard warms my fingertips a little. How we artists must suffer.
Grim Task
It was a grim task set before me. I, not a fan of tasks and less enamored of those tasks of the grim variety, didn’t relish taking it up. But duty, right.
All were assembled around the table. Leaning forward so they could see me, looking around, I loudly said, “I have a question for you.” I waited for silence, which came fast and cast another check on their attention; all were regarding me. “Do you wear socks in the shower?” I asked.
Staring followed, then questions. What, what are you talking about, and say that again was heard among the ten facing me, along with some sputtering, uncertain laughing.
“Do you wear socks in the shower?” I repeated.
“No,” several responded, and then a few inquired, “Why are you asking that?”
“Well, my wife read an article about bizarre things people from different states do, and she read that people in Oregon like to shower with their socks on. Then she asked me, ‘Have you ever heard of this?’ No, I told her. She said, ‘I’ve never showered with my socks on, but I don’t shower.’ I told her, ‘I shower, but I don’t wear my socks.'” Then we talked more and realized, maybe people do this but don’t talk about it because it’s a normal routine for them, so they see no need to speak about it. So, I said that I’d ask you guys, my beer group.”
“No,” all chorused, fully laughing now. “None of us wear our socks in the shower.”
Satisfied that the grim task was done, I sat back and sampled my ale. It was very good.
Michael Seidel, writer 