Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Driving etiquette...or the lack thereof.
In particular the ramps along the freeways of our area. Folks these ramps have specific reasons for being in the places you find them.
For the ease of getting on and off of the freeway and not winding up in Hardin County or heading to Houston.
Plain and simple...getting on the freeway...use the ramp to accellerate to match the flow of traffic already flowing.
That's why it's called an 'ON' ramp...you're getting on the freeway and everybody is moving smoothly until you decide to grace the roadway with your attempt at driving.
I now understand the phrase from NASCAR about..."putting someone into the wall..."
Luckily for you, NASCAR is not the real world...for most folks it's common sense and common courtesy...but then how can it be common when a lot of people don't have it....common sense that is.
The off ramps are the same theory in reverse...BUT don't slow down to the posted speed limit on the service road a half mile before you get to the exit...the ramp is designed for the de-accelleration and blending into that flow of traffic....again common sense here. But I digress with the common sense theory...
Drive safe and read this when you get home ... please.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
There is a time for all seasons, and right about now it appears to be the season for healing of damaged shoulders.
I admit to you.....my few and faithful readers...I am about to learn a little more about patience along this path than I originally thought.
The visit with my doctor enlightened me to the fact that I had almost completely severed my bicep tendon but was still hanging by a few threads. The rotator cuff was ultimately unscathed which left the tendon to be dealt with.
In short, the tendon was re-attached to the humerus ...(which ain't even thinking about being funny) by some modern day, medically named, just what the doctor ordered....screw thingy.
I am also told that within time, the tendon will attach itself to the bone.. and along with those infamous words ringing in the background...be good as new.
Good as new, 'eh? I'll take it!
After the good doctor shared this wonderful news with me, I set about putting my shirt back on along with my new little best friend, the SLINGSHOT2 arm sling. The nurse made a return visit to see what was taking so long with me coming out of the exam room.....
Well hey, I am but one middle-aged man with one good arm and associated factory installed left-hand....trying to button my shirt...give me a second or two.
Upon leaving the doctors office with the stitches removed and feeling good about the prognosis, I waited out front along the drive-thru drop-off area for my soon to be nominated for sainthood loving wife to arrive to take me home.
Soon after returning home, looking at my reflection in my bathroom mirror, I realized that single-handed as I was, I managed to miss-button my shirt...it's no wonder the nurse was stifling a laugh when I so proudly walked out of the exam room and down the hall....my wife almost fell down laughing at the sight of her independent spousal unit standing before her in his lime green fishing shirt all askew....
Well done Mr. Independent-Fluorescent-Lime-Green-Fishing-Shirt-Wearing-Shoulder-Patient Sir...well done.
Now for some ice on my one good hand....CINDY!!!!
Friday, September 11, 2009
Being a new writer, I am constantly on the 'listen' for a topic.
Sitting in the 'pre-op' cubicle Tuesday morning, not one but two different nurses prepping me for the procedure reminded me upon exiting the curtain framed room...
"If you need anything....just holler."
The second reminder prompted both me and my wife Cindy to a memory of our first born and the passage from diapers to being a big girl and getting 'potty' trained.
We would position her and told her that when she was through....to just holler.
Within a few moments, lost in the program we were watching, we heard her voice from down the hallway...reaching an octave never before believed possible....
Such a smart child she is. She absolutely listened and did just as instructed. She hollered when she was ready for our assistance.
I have been doing my share of hollering around the house since coming home from the day surgery. Cindy has been available for my every request.
She even takes her cell phone to bed with her, just in case I may need her during the night...from the living room where I have taken up residence..I can simply call her.
Truth be known...I haven't called yet...scared to wake her up...but I know she would be there if I did need her.
As she closes the door and turns out the lamps for my attempt to get some sleep in the not so comfortable over stuffed chair....she tells me....
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Times like that make me stop and wonder where the hidden camera is.
Who out there is setting me up....and why me.... why today?
I had the pleasure of coaching both Little League Softball for my daughter and Little League Baseball for my son for a total of about 9 years worth of fun and adventure. Some years way more memorable than others when the parents remembered.....IT, meaning the sport...the game was for the kids...not us parents.
I was always amazed at how many of the dads could drop the kids off for practice but never could make it early enough for helping out on the field prep for game days. They would always show up just as the first pitch was made....perfect timing that was.
There was one year that stands out for me. My assistant coach and I were handed the roster of our team and the league president mentioned something about one of our players was new to the league and put him on my team for obvious reasons.
I guess the reasons were many but mostly were simple because I was so good at what I did, had a good rapport with the parents, never created problems, and was one of the older managers in the league that could probably do really well with a new kid.
Hey, these kids were 5 and 6 years old...how tough could it be?
To my surprise, this new kid had a parent that was....how do I say this....well known in the area.
Not just in the area, but pretty much known across the country.....country music that is. The main concern for this situation was that both of the parents wished for the focus to be on their son, and not particularly on the well known parent.
Things worked out pretty well that year. We won a few games. Had the usual team parties during and after the season. Thought it was kinda neat to have a country music entertainer among the parents in the stands...who loved the fact he could come to the games and not get mobbed by the local fans for what he did and take the attention away from the son playing baseball.
During the capping ceremony where all the players are introduced to the entire league, Mark would make it a point to find us where we were lined up prior to the team introduction. Make some small talk with the coaches and then venture off to take advantage of the photo opportunity when his son received his team cap at home plate.
I was not able to acquire Mark's son the next year. The next years level included the draft system and I didn't get the boy on my team. I haggled with the coach for a trade, but he informed me that his wife loved the music that Mark played and was told to hold onto him for her.
Yeah right, he knew that boy was a player....trying to tell me his wife was a country music lover....do I look like I just fell off the turnip truck?
At next years capping ceremony....Mark looked me up on the field again...like friends do. We chatted and he was trying to stifle a laugh. I asked him what was up, and he just mentioned the extra 'T' in the last name on his sons jersey...and we both had a good laugh.
The team mom had mis-spelled the last name.... CHESTNUTT
Hey, stuff even happens on little league fields with big fans of country music stars.
My thanks to Mark Chesnutt for sharing some family time with us.
It is what it is......