American right-wing Christianity is just as noxious and dangerous as radical Islam is in other parts of the world.  Our so-called Christians haven’t yet sent suicide bombers into gay bars and abortions clinics but wallowing in their self-righteousness and adamantly believing they are the exclusive interpreters of “god’s will” they are attempting to impose their theology on the entire country.  It’s too bad our politicians who rant at the dangers of radical Islam won’t do anything to control the religious fanaticism going on here in America.  On the contrary, some politicians campaign on how devoutly “Christian” they are.  Texas is doing everything it can to shut down all abortion clinics and State Senator Dan Patrick, in his bid for Lieutenant Governor declared he’s running as “a Christian first, a conservative second and a Republican third.” Christian-conservative-Republican, I can’t imagine a more horrendous combination. But that’s Texas. The queen of the Tea Party Michele Bachman recently admonished Arizona Governor Jan Brewer for vetoing a law that would have allowed anyone because of their “religious beliefs” to refuse service to gays.  What is so terribly frustrating to many people, myself included, is that these “Christians” can’t seem to see the contradiction between what they say and do and the moral principles of their professed religion.  Maybe they should pay more attention to what their Jesus Christ actually said rather than apply their own interpretations of the Bible to justify their prejudices, bigotry and hatred (anti-gay, anti-black, anti-women, anti-Hispanics).  Yes, I know, I will get screaming comments from right-wingers insisting they are not bigots.  I don’t believe in the tooth fairy either.  You need not be a theologian to recognize that radical American Christians endorse policies that go against the same people their spiritual role model Jesus told them they should protect and support—the sick, the hungry, the weak, the poor.  The word “hypocrisy” comes to mind.  Considering the way the hypochristians interpret the Bible, it is not surprising that they would also distort the constitution.  No matter how many times you tell them the Constitution only guarantees the right to practice any religion you want but not the right to impose your religious beliefs on others they simply ignore it.  The Constitution says nothing about when life begins nor sexual orientation.  What is even more ludicrous is the contention that Christians in America are being “persecuted.”  To my knowledge we haven’t thrown anybody to the lions recently.  In their wacky logic “persecuted” means not making laws according to what they are absolutely certain is the way god wants it.  The aforementioned Texas state Senator Patrick asked in the debate over the abortion clinic law, “How would God vote tonight if he were here?”  Fortunately there is hope.  Recent Pew Research indicates the younger generation, the “Millennials”, tend to be independent politically, non-affiliated religiously, more tolerant, more inclusive and more liberal.   So perhaps the Christian-conservative-Republican will eventually disappear and, hopefully, never be resurrected.  Amen.

Recently I purchased a new TV.  That in and of itself is not much of a major life event.  But it reminded me of a lunch I went to 52 years ago in London.  The guest speaker was the president of Ferranti, Ltd., a British electronics firm, and I was covering it as the correspondent for Electronic News.  Why would my new TV remind me of a lunch that long ago?  The speaker, whose name I can’t remember, talked about the great strides electronics would make in the coming years.  I don’t recall much of the many non-existent things he predicted except for two.  He said one day we would have telephones that would work without wires.  He was referring not to cell phones but phones you could walk around within your home.  Even those were unheard of in those days.  Then he announced, (and I shall paraphrase from memory) “Someday we will have televisions that you can hang on your wall.”  The British well-mannered audience noticeably muffled a guffaw.  Now remember, in the 1960s televisions were big bulky things many of which were built into massive pieces of furniture.  The TV I just discarded is 12 years old, weighs about 85 pounds, is 19  inches deep and has a cathode ray picture tube.  (See photo.)  My new TV is an inch and a half thick and weighs about six pounds.  But back to my luncheon.  As a young enthusiastic reporter I thought I had a “big story.”  I could see the headline “British Electronics Executive Predicts the Future.”  I raced back to the office and whipped my story off by trans-Atlantic cable (there were no satellites nor Internet in those days).  When the next issue came out my story was not on the front page, in fact, it was not in the paper at all.  Highly chagrined, I called the editor to ask why a sensational story like mine didn’t make the paper.  His reply was essentially, “Are you kidding!  We are a respected, serious electronics newspaper.  If we put out a story about TVs hanging on the wall we’d be the laughing stock of the industry.” Can you imagine someone predicting that you could watch TV on a mini-screen mounted on your eyeglass frame?  Are you kidding?

 

Michael Sam, a six foot two, 260 pound defensive lineman and potential NFL player, just “came out” as gay.  The most shocking thing about his admission is that so many people consider it shocking.  “My God he is a football player!” they weep and wail and wring their hands!  (And probably gnash their teeth but we will get to biblical references later.) Would it shock them to learn there are gay doctors, lawyers, bank tellers and auto mechanics?  The issue here is that a lot of people in our country —especially white males--have this image of football players as the epitome of masculinity so a gay football player seems to go against their great American “values” (whatever they are any more).   Not only do these guys have to deal with learning that a big, talented male athlete who is capable of viciously slamming an opponent to the ground is gay, they also have to deal with their so-called “faith.”  You know, God says homosexuality is a sin, an abomination and all that and how can you argue with God?  Okay you’ve heard the familiar rebuttal to biblical homophobia that the Old Testament also declares that adulterers should be stoned to death.  Considering our statistics on divorce rates, probably half the adult population in the Unites States would be in serious trouble under Leviticus 20:10.  Doesn’t it strike you a bit absurd when God gets involved in whether someone is fit to play in the NFL?  Fortunately, the vast majority reaction has been very supportive of Sam especially among football players.  I guess the supportive people also read the Bible.  Remember John 8:5 when the scribes and Pharisees brought the adulteress to Jesus and pointed out Moses’s law said she should be stoned to death and Jesus replied, “Ok the one without sin should toss the first stone.”  Looks like Sam would be one of Jesus’s draft picks.  Can you imagine what the reaction would be if one of the bearded males in that revered example of masculine American culture Duck Dynasty came out as gay? 

The New York Times had a few startling revelations this morning.  One story reported that the Russians leaked a recording of a phone conversation between two American diplomats.  Can you imagine a national government listening in on the phone conversations of another country? Atrocious.  The United States has every right to be outraged.  Another story (deep inside on page A15) noted the ranking House Republican woman, Rep. Cathy McMorris Rodgers, is being investigated for possible campaign spending irregularities.  She gave the official Republican response to the State of the Union address.  If you managed to stay awake for all ten minutes of it you got her entire autobiography, and the promise that the Republicans had a plan to make every American life peachy creamy without saying how.  Anyway, she is being investigated by the Office of Congressional Ethics.  What I found interesting is that such an Office exists.  “Congressional ethics” strikes me as an enormous oxymoron.  One editorial bemoaned Russia’s repressive government. The phrase that caught my eye was “charges against those demonstrators are baseless and more evidence of “Putin’s way of getting revenge” on his critics.”  Politicians extracting revenge?  Shocking.  At least he could have been more subtle and shut down a bridge leading to Sochi.  And finally, John Boehner expressed doubt that there will be immigration reform during this Congress.  Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-SC) laid the blame for the immigration reform impasse on, guess what, the Affordable Care Act. 

For two days I suffered from NCSD (No Computer Stress Disorder).  Fortunately it was just a mild case since it involved only my desktop computer which was being repaired.  I still had a functioning iPhone, iPad and netbook otherwise I don’t know how I could have gotten through 48 hours without email.  It made me realize just how critical electronic devices have become to my daily life.  I have a few friends who refuse to use a computer, have no email, no smart phone, do not participate in social media and one, incredibly, has no answering machine.    I sometimes envy them for their electronic isolation but I cannot imagine myself returning to the days of typewriters, letters requiring stamped envelopes and telephones wired to the wall.

But I feel I am in a technological wasteland.  I am stuck somewhere between the analogue and the digital, embracing a bit of each, comfortable with the former and trying to fully understand and participate in the latter.  Yes, I confess I use facebook, (mainly to keep track of my grandchildren’s sometimes appalling behavior and it’s also relatively easy).  I have no idea how to use twitter, linkedin, flickr, chrome, cloud, pinterest, google+ and all the other things I am constantly being invited to join by giving them my email address, sex, birth date, marital status and establishing yet another password.

However, all this has made me realize the future is rushing by me and I can’t seem to catch up with it.  My two-year-old granddaughter, like all two-year-olds, is learning how to say words.  Among her first pronouncement were:  “mommy,” “daddy,” “more,” “all done,” “no” and “iPad.”  She is quite capable of turning on the device, touching the icons for Elmo, Cookie Monster, The Wheels on the Bus and her other favorite videos.  She’s takes pictures on her mother’s iPhone and once called me on mine by accident.

Kids today find it incomprehensible that we older people feel that so-called “intuitive” apps are confusing and intimidating.  When visiting my ten-year-old grandson, he amuses himself by watching my ineptitude at playing the video games he tries to teach me.  Once we downloaded a game he wanted to try on my iPad and within five minutes he knew exactly how to do it.  After we both played it several times he pointed out that his highest recorded score was 11,508 and mine was six.  I must also confess my 16-year-old granddaughter taught me how to text.

There could be a perfectly good reason why my grandchildren catch on to these e-things and I don’t. Perhaps Richard Dawkins, noted British evolutionary biologist (and famous atheist) was on to something when he coined the word “meme” in his book The Selfish Gene.  A meme is like a gene in that it passes ideas and cultural phenomena from one generation to the next.  The most useful intellectual traits evolve by natural selection much like biological evolution.  

Obviously, I do not have the video game meme and quite possibly my grandson, who has certainly got it, will pass it on to his offspring who will be even better at wielding the X-Box, playing Wii’s and understanding the latest iPhone apps.

According to some meme theory proponents, memes that are no longer useful will become extinct.  It is conceivable then,  that Google’s current successful experiments will lead to the day somewhere in the distant future when no one will know how to drive a car.   But, without doubt,  future generations will be unbelievably good at playing video games.

If you are over five years old and live in America you have heard of the Affordable Care Act (a.k.a. Obamacare).  Even if you have absolutely no idea what it is, you most certainly have an opinion about it.  Republicans have convinced you it is the worst thing that has happened in the history of the world, or Democrats assured you it is a wonderful opportunity for millions of uninsured Americans to acquire health insurance.

            The Republicans have been brilliant in lambasting the ACA without exactly explaining why it is so bad (and also not proposing an alternative) and the Democrats have been singularly inept at explaining and launching it.  So the result is that just about everybody doesn’t understand anything.

            But let’s limit this discussion to one issue.  The Republicans have, in pursuing their attack against the ACA (they voted to repeal it over 40 times), tried to convince perfectly healthy young people—dubbed the “young invincibles”—that they are being ripped off by the government and forced to buy health insurance they don’t need. 

As an “old vincible” I can guarantee those healthy young people they are going to need health insurance if they live long enough.  (Of course, if they intend to die in the near future the Republicans may have a point.)

Actually, the “government” already requires citizens to purchase insurance and punish them if they do not.  If you drive a car, most states require you to purchase accident/liability insurance otherwise you can’t register your car and drive it.  So state governments require you to get insurance or they penalize you by not permitting you to drive.

There is another insurance the private sector forces you to buy--home owners insurance.  All banks require you to purchase home owners insurance otherwise they won’t give you a mortgage.

But let’s get back to the Republican argument that the “young invincibles” are being forced to pay for the health care of the sick old fogies (which eventually they will become but they don’t know that yet). 

I have been a home owner for over 30 years and during all that time I have paid county taxes.  A portion of those taxes goes to pay for the school system to educate the children in the county.  For all of those 30 years I have never had a child in the school system so why should I be required to pay taxes to educate the children of the “young invincibles”?  Because, the local government requires me to do so although I get no benefit from those taxes.

A basic principal of insurance is you pay for it in the hope you will never need it.  You pay for car accident/liability insurance but if you never have an accident you pay for the accidents of those who do.  You pay for home owners insurance but if your house never burns down you pay for those whose houses do.  You pay country taxes even if you have no children in order to educate the children of those who do.

But that principal of hoping you never need the insurance you pay for does not apply to health insurance because sooner or later you are going to get old and feeble and sick and get cancer or heart disease or diabetes or Alzheimer’s or something equally dreadful and you are most certainly going to need it.   So since you will absolutely need health insurance at some point in the future, what you pay now to treat the current old fogies, the young invincibles of the future are going to be paying for you. 

Look at it this way.  You can’t wait to buy life insurance until you die which you certainly will.

In his magnificent essay “Here is New York,” E.B. White said there are three New Yorks—one for the native born, another for the commuter who works there and leaves each night and the third for people who come from somewhere else in quest of something.  I’d like to add a fourth—the visitor who feels like a resident.  In 1955, my father became a commuter New Yorker when the family moved to Hartsdale and he worked in the Graybar building above Grand Central Station.  In 2000 my wife and I became one-week “residents” of New York when we bought a time share across the street from Carnegie Hall.  So each time I visit the Big Apple I feel both the excitement of the tourist enjoying all the wonderful things to do and see and the comfort and confidence of a resident who knows how to use the subway system.

New York is always exciting, occasionally scary and sometimes emotional.  My wife and I visited the city two weeks after 9/11.  We had already booked our trip and refused to cancel it.  We smelled the acrid smoke that still drifted over lower Manhattan and saw the layers of ash on the sidewalks and buildings blocks away from ground zero.  Last week we visited the 9/11 Memorial.  It is both beautiful and sad.  Having been there right after the destruction, the pristine memorial fountain-pool and the soaring new buildings had a special meaning for me.

 

New York is more than the theater and museums we enjoy each visit, it is also eating.  As a professional food photographer who dearly loves consuming my subjects, I consider eating one of NYC’s greatest attractions.  For me, NYC is an enormous food court.  On this trip, I revisited some favorite restaurants and discovered a couple new ones.

Encore restaurant performances this trip included Robert on the ninth floor of the Museum of Art and Design and P.J. Clarke’s.  Robert offers excellent food and a fabulous view of Columbus Circle. We always visit the museum first.  Exhibits change often so there is always something new.  This time the exhibits featured advanced technology in art and I finally found out what 3D printing really is.

 

 

 

 

If you like classical music, the New York Philharmonic holds open rehearsals on Thursday mornings at Lincoln Center (go to www.nyphil.org for information.)  You get to see an actual rehearsal of the current performance for $20.00 at 9:45 a.m.  Just across the street from Lincoln Center is P.J.Clarke’s which I believe makes the best Reuben sandwich in the world.  I had it again this time.

 

Now to this trip’s restaurant debuts.  My good friend Phil Dorian who was my college roommate and is now a New York theater critic (www.sceneonstage.com) introduced us to Iguana (240 West 54th St.) and Etcetera Etcetera (352 West 44th St.)

 

Iguana is upscale Mexican where they make a great avocado dip at the table and offers perhaps the best corn chowder I have ever eaten.   Etcetera Etcetera is upscale Italian where my wife had a beautifully done Cornish hen and I had a perfectly creamy risotto (only Italians can make good risotto).  Sorry, I forgot the camera that night which is a terrible admission for a photographer.

 

Two friends I have done Community Theater with down south, Craig Mark Wells and Camrus Johnson, are now in New York aiming at bigger theatrical horizons.  They introduced us to one of their favorite hangouts, Patzeria—Family and Friends (311 West 48th St.).  We all got together for breakfast one morning and I must say the owner and staff were really like, well, family and friends.

 

 

Sometime we just come upon a new restaurant by chance.  After visiting the 9/11 Memorial, we went looking for a restaurant on the Bowery that a magazine said had great raw clams--one of my favorite things.  Unfortunately, after walking a half hour in the rain we found it and it was closed for lunch.  So another 15 minutes in the rain and we found Gemma, (335 Bowery) that looked like a trendy Italian eatery. My wife had butternut squash ravioli and I had a grilled eggplant sandwich (Italians also know how to do eggplant and we confirmed the chef is from Sicily).

 

Our biggest breakfast find was the Cosmic Diner (888 8th Ave.)  We wanted a big breakfast on the Sunday of our departure that would hold us until we got home late in the day.  We found it.  Our Cosmic brunch included three eggs Benedict and potatoes, a Bloody Mary or Mimosa, orange juice and coffee all for $17!  What a deal!

 

But, of course, New York does not exist by food alone.  It does have a great theater menu.   We saw five shows:  “After Midnight”—starring Fantasia.  Terrific music from the Duke Ellington, Cotton Club era and blow-your-mind dancing.  “Pippin,” an extravaganza where Cirque de Soleil meets Broadway musical, magic show and then some.  “A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder,” an entertaining combination of Downton Abbey, British farce and Gilbert and Sullivan with an amazing performance by Jefferson Mays playing the part of seven murder victims. “Outside Mullingar,” from the playwright who wrote the gripping drama “Doubt.”  Very disappointing, boring, with an outcome you can predict in the first ten minutes and you don’t care how the characters get there.   “Machinal” a play written by Sophie Treadwell in 1928 but surprisingly contemporary.  Rebecca Hall gives an incredible performance of a troubled woman who murders her husband to set herself free from an oppressive hum-drum life. 

And finally the museums.  Two museums we always visit are the previously mentioned Museum of Art and Design on Columbus Circle and the International Center of Photography (1133 Avenue of the Americas).  The exhibits change often and this time the ICP featured Lewis Hine who pioneered documentary photography, covering early immigration on Ellis Island, child labor and the construction of the Empire State Building.  He did the famous shot of the workers having lunch on a girder high above the city. (Strangely, that shot is not in the show.)

Once you’ve seen all the dioramas at the New York Museum of Natural History you’ve seen them all because they don’t change.  A dinosaur is pretty much the same from year to year.  But the museum does special exhibits like the one we saw called “Poisons.”  Everything you ever wanted to know about poisons from Socrates to Snow White, snakes and spiders.  After a couple hours studying toxic substances (which included alcohol) we went back to our time share for cocktails. It was a great week.

 

As we enter the New Year, two states, Washington and Colorado have legalized the sale and use of marijuana.  Since this is America, where we can’t seem to agree on anything, this has raised a large controversy ranging from outrage on one extreme to “oh, get a life” on the other.  What to do with marijuana in our society has been debated for years and now that some states are decriminalizing it (which is contrary to Federal law) my personal opinion is that we are doing it entirely the wrong way.  Over 30 years ago when I was a marketing executive we had a client that is a large tobacco company.  At one of those legendary three-martini lunches we discussed the “weed.”  The client told us very matter-of-factly that his company would like to see marijuana legalized and that it would not only be good for his industry but also good for the country.  The tobacco industry was—and still is—in the perfect position to take on the manufacture of “marijuana cigarettes.”  Our client pointed out all the advantages.  His industry would make lots of money.  On the other hand, total manufacture and sale nationwide would be carefully controlled and the quality and strength of the commercialized product would be standardized.  (Rumor has it that the Washington and Colorado joints will be considerably more powerful than the pothead stuff of the 60s.)  And finally, the state and Federal governments would get a huge amount of tax revenue.  Consider, it costs about 20 cents to manufacture a pack of cigarettes.  The last time I was in New York City, I saw a sign “Marlboros $13.00 a pack.” That’s a lot of tax for the packs.  You have heard all the emotional arguments:  Kids starting on marijuana will become crack addicts.  We are putting people in jail for long periods just for possessing marijuana overcrowding our jails.   For some reason, the legalization of pot is considered by many a moral issue which did not hold up in the case of alcohol.  Remember prohibition? People were going to drink whether the moralists liked it or not so it spawned all sorts of crime and mayhem. Then the mobs made money on booze, now the governments do.  It always amazes me how stupid our policies can be and how we fail to adopt the most rational, workable solutions (see health care which is another issue).  In the case of marijuana, go for the free market solution that conservatives so dearly love.  Turn over manufacture and distribution of marijuana cigarettes to the tobacco industry and let the government regulate it and reap the tax benefits.  How’s that for a compromise?--the conservatives get the privatization of marijuana and the liberals get regulation and more taxes.  Maybe I should become a political advisor.

Today we celebrate the arrival of a new year.  We also acknowledge the ending of an old one.  Every media outlet, whether print or electronic, likes to review the past year and make predictions about the next.  One of the reviews most media make of the year past is the names and stories of prominent people who expired.  I am always pleased when I am not on that list.  Although it would be nice to be a prominent person I am pleased to not qualify under the second requirement--I did not expire.  Considering the cancerous events I have experienced in the last few years missing the expired list one more time is no small accomplishment.  Going into the New Year I am optimistic at least about my longevity.  According to statistical studies, the life expectancy for an American male is 78.7 years and I have not yet used up my allotment.  So, I am looking forward to another year.  Unlike the media, I am not going to make any predictions because I want to start the new year on a positive note. No matter how rotten the past year was, we always like to think the next year will be better. So I will start my new year on an optimistic note until, of course, the U.S. Congress reconvenes.  Oh well optimism will be fun while it lasts and hope springs eternal.  Happy (but don’t count on it) New Year.  

Like most people I thought it was cool to say “I never make New Year’s resolutions because I never keep them,” but I thought I’d be un-cool this year and make one.  I am going to start blogging again and shoot for one or two episodes a week.  The year ended on an uplifting note.  Fox News anchor Megyn Kelly assured us Santa Claus and Jesus are white, John Boehner acknowledged his radical right wing is causing his party problems, noted intellectual Phil Robertson declared he dislikes gays but that’s okay because he loves Jesus and our dysfunctional Congress passed a kind of budget, sort of.  So in our current American Idiocracy, politics, religion, health care, cancer and stupidity in general should provide endless opportunities for commentary.  Happy New Year! http://rasersedge.blogspot.com

We Americans can create controversy and conflict about anything and everything.  The latest issue to raise our collective blood pressure is that major big-box retail stores are going to open on Thanksgiving Day. Wow! This has now become occasion for uproar, protest and yet another chance to demand an emotional, patriotic defense of our way of life.  After all, Thanksgiving is the greatest of all family American holidays when, by tradition, we are supposed to get together as a family, be happy and overeat. For some people, opening big retail stores on Thanksgiving Day surpasses Obamacare as the worst thing to happen in American history and a threat to our values (whatever they may be anymore). One women interviewed on a “news” program declared that in protest she will not shop on Thanksgiving and not even shop in those stores forever unless she required necessities. Huh? She implored everyone to join her in refusing to shop on Thanksgiving Day. Fat chance. All these people wringing their hands over the horror of big stores opening on Thanksgiving is a perfect example of how distorted our collective psyche has become.  We cherish some idea of great immutable American traditions, like Thanksgiving, as if they really mean something.  Then we find out that all our so called values are illusions and have been distorted to be money making machines (like Christmas by the way).  So, here is the reality.  Big stores are in business to make money and they care not about you or American traditions or how much they pay their employees who have to work on holidays or whether you shop there or not because others will and the loss of you doesn’t mean a damn thing.  By opening on Thanksgiving Day they make more money.  Period.  So if you are all in a snit about big stores opening on Thanksgiving Day, stay home.  It’s that simple.  Happy Thanksgiving!

You probably have heard the mayor of Toronto explained the reason he sniffed coke cocaine was because he was in a “drunken stupor.”  I suppose you could call that “politician logic” as it establishes a wonderful argument for all politicians.  Just think, for example, George W. Bush could have said, “I got us into the Iraq war because I was in a drunken stupor.”  Or President Obama could have said, “I told everybody they could keep the health insurance they have because I was in a drunken stupor.”  And how could you argue with such honesty.  Hey, this means when politicians do stupid things it is okay as long as they did it while in a drunken stupor. Drunken stupors are bad; bad actions while in drunken stupors are acceptable.  Makes perfect sense.

When we moved in to our subdivision on Amelia Island, Florida, 11 years ago, our neighbors told us we were a “target” neighborhood for Halloween. We learned what that means is that even though we do not have many children who actually live in our subdivision, it is a quiet, low-traffic, non-gated community with nice people who give treats to children on Halloween.  In other words, in the great American tradition, we are ripe for exploitation and extracting a profit, in this case measured in candy and other treats.  So parents figuring it’s a good deal, import their kids in vans to our subdivision for the evening. 

When I was a kid, (and I know people hate seniors talking about the “good old days,”) those of us between say five and 12 years old walked around our own neighborhood  dressed in costumes and our neighbors played the “Oh who is this little ghost?  Is that little Billy?” And we giggled and got a piece of candy.

Now today where I live, Halloween has become the candy/treat extraction industry.  We know absolutely none of the kids who come to the door since they have been imported from elsewhere by their parents, we can’t play the “Oh who is this?” game?  The kids just walk up hold out their bag and when prompted by their parents standing in the background mumble “say thank you,” and scoot off.

No one will really believe this today, but our parents didn’t come with us.  The 12-year olds escorted the younger kids because everybody in the neighborhood knew everybody else.  Now the parents transport their kids to neighborhoods where nobody knows them and I seriously doubt some of those parents’ motives.

Last night, Halloween, four toddlers in strollers showed up at out door pushed by their very fat parents. (Fat, in America, seems to be the new “attractive” but that is a different subject.) The oldest baby was 18 months and the youngest was sucking on a bottle of milk so it was really young and had no idea of where it was nor what was going on.  Now do you think the parents of those kids were trying to give them an enriching holiday experience or were they looking for a stash of candy for themselves?

Between 6:00 p.m. and 6:50 p.m. we gave out 100 treats my wife bought, to 100 kids we did not know and who do not live any where near us, then we turned out the lights and shut down Halloween.  I think I should add, this time for good.

The Republicans have shut down the government because their extortion plan did not work.  In the opinion of two out of three Americans, shutting down the government over Obamacare was a dumb thing to do.  Coincidently or not, the enrolment in the Affordable Care Act opened the same day the government closed which prompted a Facebook friend to declare “now the left wing Propaganda Wars begin.”  Interesting.  The right wing Propaganda Wars have been waging ever since the ACA (a.k.a. Obamacare) became law.   (Yes, Tea Partyers it is the law.)  Ever since the law passed, Republicans have been telling us Obamacare is a “train wreck.”  It is a “disaster.”  It’s a “job killer.”   Some Congressmen have soared to new heights of hyperbole.  One said, “The worst thing that could happen to America.”  Another shreiked, “we’re discovering new horrors every day,” and yet another added, “it’s the greatest threat our country has even known.”  In philosophy, rhetoric and logic, these are called “fallacious arguments.”  They are meaningless. They appeal to your fears and ignorance because they give you no information about why Obamacare is all these horrible things. Unfortunately, a lot of people fall for them. I believe what my Facebook friend was expressing is the right wingers’ fear that as enrolments in the ACA go forward, Americans will discover that it might actually be good for the millions of people who can’t get health insurance because of pre-existing conditions or can’t afford it because premiums are too high.  It will be interesting to see if Americans will see through the right wingers fallacious arguments and recognize them for what they are, bullshit.

To avoid thinking about Syria, I have decided to think about my cancers.  Both subjects are equally distasteful but the cancer is a bit closer to home.  Just like the Syrian situation, I am waiting to see what’s going to happen with the cancer.  I have my next PET/CT scan in a few weeks so the apprehension and tension sweeping America over whether to invade Syria is also playing out with me inside my neck.  Interestingly, the possibility of “military action” (again) in the Middle East and the invasion of esophageal cancer (again) in my throat have produced for me the same kind of mind games.   In both cases it comes down to the same questions.  We attack Syria or we don’t.  The cancer comes back or it doesn’t. It we do and it does, what happens next?  If we don’t and it doesn’t, what happens next?  Of course, for me the best case scenario is we stay out of Syria and the cancer stays out of me.  But as an optimistic pessimist might say:  Hope for the best but prepare for the worst.  So I am bracing for a new war in the Middle East and the return of the esophageal cancer.  From previous experience in both cases, we know the results can be disastrous.  Our adventures in Iraq and Afghanistan have caused a lot of pain, misery and suffering.  I can say esophageal cancer does the same thing.  So I hope we stay out of Syria and… you finish the thought. 

T. S. Eliot’s J. Alfred Prufrock measured out his life with “coffee spoons.”  I am now measuring out my life with PET/CT scans.  The oncologist told me last week that I am “disease free.”  That sounds encouraging but the unspoken words are “for now.”  Once you’ve had it, cancer is always there, lurking somewhere in your body and playing with your mind.  Now it’s a numbers game, you play the percentages.

“Doctor, will the melanoma that showed up in my lung come back?” I asked.

 “Yes.”

 “What are the odds?”

 “Not 100 percent but more than 50 percent, say, between 50 and 75 percent.”

“Where?”

“Most likely the lung again, but anywhere.  Other organs, the brain.”

“When?”

“We don’t know.”

“What do we do?”

“We watch it and do a scan every six months.” 

I would have preferred coffee spoons.

There was an option for a new drug that supposedly works on melanoma through the immune system as a preventative. You get it intravenously every three weeks for twelve weeks but it’s really not sure if it will actually stop a recurrence.  So you have to go through twelve weeks of miserable side effects like diarrhea, fever, red swollen eyes, etc. and the melanoma could come back anyway.  I don’t like those odds (and I remember chemotherapy side effects) so we’re going with the six month scans. 

Now I am reminded of another Alfred.  Remember Mad Magazine’s Alfred E. Neuman? I'm attempting to adopt his attitude.  “What, me worry?”

 

 

Today I had chest x-rays taken and met with the surgeon who cut a hunk out of my lung containing melanoma three and a half weeks ago. First I met with his Physician’s Assistant who told me everything looked good except I had some excessive “stool.” I said, “What?”  She replied, “You know, poop.”  If any of you read my earlier blog about an annoying pressure in my upper abdomen which felt like a beer belly without benefit of beer, you will remember that the discomfort was bothering me more than pain which I could deal with. My surgeon arrived and told me from the surgery point of view everything was just perfect, great healing, great lung function, high five!  Yeah!  The problem causing my discomfort was too much poop in my upper intestine which I just learned extends higher than I thought up into your rib cage.  He assured me that the pressure under my breast bone had nothing to do with the surgery and suggested I try laxatives. It's bad enough to have all these cancers now I find out I'm full of shit.

Four weeks ago when the surgeon was briefing me on what to expect from my lung operation, he said, “This is very painful surgery.”  That’s about as heartening as hearing the pilot of your airplane say, “Oh shit!”  You expect the worst.  Well, the surgeon was right, to an extent.  Actually the surgery was painless, I didn’t feel a thing and I was pumping myself with so much morphine the first night I don’t remember much of that either.  It is when you leave the hospital armed only with a little bottle of pain pills you have to administer yourself that your duel with pain begins.  The first couple days I was popping two pills of oxycodone every four hours, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night to do so.  But then the pain reached what I considered a tolerable level so it was down to a personal battle between pain and me.  I don’t like to take medicines. So in defiance, I stopped the pills because the pain was no longer continuous.  It only came unexpectedly with really horrendous stabs in my back.  Because I decided not the take the oxycodone it reminded me of the old joke:  “Why are you banging your head against the wall,” the first guy asked.  “Because if feels so good when I stop,” the other guy responded.  Well, the sharp pains are over quickly, it feels good when it stops and I am still standing so I win.  Now the bigger problem is just an annoyance.  The surgeon said he was going to “freeze” the nerves in my chest area which supposedly make it less painful.  But what is has done is given me the annoying sensation that I have grown an upper beer belly that is pressing against my breast bone.  What bothers me is that I have a new beer belly without the benefit of drinking the beer.  Now that is really painful.

My friend the morphine pump

Women often say that if men wanted to experience real pain they should give birth to a child.  After my experience with lung surgery last Thursday I think I might have preferred taking a shot at childbirth.  However, with lung surgery pain you have an advantage, it’s called morphine.  I remember absolutely nothing of the surgery, very little of the recovery room and just became coherent enough in my overnight room to learn that the thing in my hand with the button and little green light would become my best friend.  When the little green light came on I pushed the button, opening the floodgates of morphine, drowning the pain and allowing a dreamy darkness to descend.  I became like Pavlov’s dog:  Feel pain, open eyes, see green light, push button, painless darkness.  Repeat. The clock was on the wall directly in front of me and every time I opened my eyes it was the first thing I saw.  I kept thinking what the hell is wrong with this clock?   It keeps jumping ahead ten minutes at a time!  I spent the entire night sleeping in ten minute intervals.  But at least they left me alone with my morphine toy.  By the next night I had been switched to oxycodone tablets which are not nearly so much fun as a morphine pump and the nurses kept waking me up throughout the night to take “vital signs,” give me pills and stick needles in my stomach.  When I finally got into some kind of deep sleep about 4:00 a.m., the door bangs open, the lights go on and the portable X-ray machine comes rolling in followed by the blood sample nurse. After another night of the same I was finally released.  Sunday night as I drifted off to sleep in my own bed imagining that all I had gone through was just a frightening nightmare, I began mumbling,  “There’s no place like home…there’s no place like home… there’s no place….”

When you acquire cancer, you get philosophical about things like considering diseases as metaphors.  I have friends who have various heart conditions whom I think of as living in a kind of “tornado alley” where disaster can strike with little or no warning.  On the other hand, cancer is like living in Florida where you can get wiped out by a hurricane.  But, you know it’s coming and you even know where it is coming from and sometimes how intense it will be, however, you don’t know how devastating it will be until it hits.  Now I have learned that my current cancer hurricane is located in my left lung and that it will make “lung fall” (couldn’t resist that) this Thursday morning when they will pry open my chest to take it out.  I have been told I will remain in the hospital from four to seven days depending how severe the cancercane is (couldn’t resist that one either).  So we’ll brace for the storm’s arrival, get through it, assess the damage and then figure out how to get on with the rebuilding.