WAG - Could you and your germs just bug off?

I don’t recall ever having fun playing doctor.

I don’t know whether I associated the practice too much with actual pricks of needles or nasty tasting medicines, or cold instruments, or what, but I don’t remember looking forward to playing the sick one for the learned medical practitioner (and later, miraculously swapping positions and becoming the doctor. The exam must have been easier back then. I know malpractice insurance was cheaper).

That didn’t stop me from playing the game. In fact, some cousins never gave me much of a chance, but I didn’t have much patience for being a patient. I can vaguely recall some cases where I played dead, but sure enough, just like Dr. Frankenstein people kept coming up with ways to bring me back into the land of the living – and back into the game.

I’ve matured some, or at least hurried up and got some patience. I do better with doctors – both real and of the quack variety (though it may be increasingly hard to tell the difference between them, the quack doctors more often are the ones with plastic implements). Still, I pause a little bit when asked to make a medical prognosis.

That’s one of the reason why I paused when my sister asked for a second opinion on how she looked. I usually bypass cheap shots on appearances when any female is involved – guys, almost always, however, are open game. This approach was further confirmed by my sister’s description of a headache and the fact she had slightly blood shot eyes.

Of course, I should note that just because one type of joke is thrown out, it doesn’t mean all jokes are off limits.

“Um… did you know bloodshot eyes are one of the symptoms of the Ebola virus? I mean I don’t know where you would have picked it up but…”

This observation, based on various articles and books I’ve read on the subject, was met with a red, slightly irked stare from my sister.

Not deterred, I continued:

“Well it’s only one of the symptoms. It’s not like you’re displaying any of the other ones, like having your body turn to liquid. Well, I mean the total liquidification of your internal organs. I certainly don’t see you leaking out of any orifices… I don’t know… It’s probably just a sign of something else…”

Ever the caring doctor, it was at that point that I realized my sister’s proximity to me and I started holding my breath in an attempt not to breathe in the air she’d exhaled.

I’m a loving, if not a self-preserving brother.

After she took a moment to blow air in my face, we discussed the fact we had spent over half a dozen hours in the car and that time spent shifting in and out of sleep could be rough on the eyes and head.

While grandma is always an option when it comes to consulting physicians, the standard Smith choice was made to wait until the next day to see if things got better.

I didn’t recall this being a stated rule in our house as much as a casual practice, but my sister did recollect our mother telling us if we weren’t throwing up or on fire, we had to go to school. She further recalled our mother being tired when she set this standard.

While my mind buzzed trying to formulate other symptoms that would get the identical effect, my sister crossed the room.

Displaying my infinite care and concern for my sister, I told her, “Don’t be coughing on my pillow.”

When she made a disparaging comment counter to that, I assured her I was just gonna chalk it up to the sickness.

Just to let you all now, all forthcoming negative, obtuse, or otherwise pointed remarks made by my sister in the coming days will be met by the comment (and the subsequent smile): I’m just gonna chalk it up to the sickness.

That’s for making me play doctor.

---------------------------

“Say, ‘Ah!’”

“Dead people don’t say, ‘Ah.’”

“But I must have brought you back to life because dead people don’t talk either.”

“Nuts.”

“Say, ‘Ah!’”

“Ah.”

'Ah_nuts'

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WAG - Angry backlash at commercials # 1225:

I’m trying to keep this as short, painless, and empty of pointed invectives on advertisers’ lack of intelligence as I can.

But I make no promises.

Any commercials – television, print, online, broadcast, etc – that feature references to holidays should be barred the day they reference arrive.

I believe I am being generous here. I am allotting an extra day more than I would think is wise. I would bar them from airing on the holiday itself, since in most cases, if the message hasn’t been received yet an extra 24 hours won’t make a difference either, but I am being kind.

After the clock strikes midnight, and the event has come to a close, however, there should be no more topical allusions to those holidays for another six-months (I would stretch it out farther, but this year I discovered Christmas items being marketed in the late summer).

As a addition, I would tolerate (not approve or like, but would allow) updated commercials that reference the completion of the holidays – signaling Santa’s relief and subsequent vacationing in the tropics or signaling post-holiday sales/markdowns – but even then these commercials should only be aired no more than a week after the originally cited celebration.

I’ve stated all that to say this:

I SHOULDN’T STILL BE SEEING COMMERICALS FEATURING THE PERFECT GIFT, CAROLERS, REINDEER, OR SANTA CLAUS’ PROLONGED QUEST TO DRAG PRESENTS DOWN THE CHIMNEY.

All of you advertisers who have committed commercial crimes identical or similar to the list stated above have gone too far by going on too long.

I understand you must have put spent a bit of money on the British actor who play your Scrooge. I’m sure some adolescent tech brain requested overtime pay for the time spent rendering your company’s logo in Christmas color. Re-cutting old footage of merchandise with fresh shots of Santa’s workshop must have cost extra money somewhere.

Get over it.

The holidays came, you made your money. WHY DON’T YOU MOVE ON?

We have… or rather, we’d like to if you’d let us.

If you give us a break, in both literal and spiritual terms, you know we’ll come back to see those recycled holiday commercials in another couple of months (and though you didn’t this year, could you try waiting till after Halloween this year?). We won’t do it eagerly, but you’ll at least have given us a chance to build up our patience or restore our tolerency level for a while.

I know abuses will still occur until New Years, at the least, but I hope I’ve given voice and some comfort to those equally distressed/irked by the approach that comes too early and stays too late.

Holidays are special and meant to be remembered year round – but that is to take place in the heart – the human marketplace of ideas and not just the marketplace.

'I_ll__see__you__in__August__Santa'

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WAG - Note: In a futile attempt to shoot for less sporadic interruptions of posts, I am going to write a number of future posts to appear on the website in the days to come. Blogger has a nice feature where items won’t appear until it has reached the publishing time listed at the start of the post. Whereas I have used that feature to create flashback posts, to post comments on the dates they should have appeared if they were to be timely, I will now use it to insure – if only for a few days – the continued appearance of my comments. For the two of you who still regularly read this site, and I think it’s my two grandmothers, this is for you.

Herding lost thoughts

How does one recapture what was once bright and obvious but has since lost its luster and faded into the shadows?

One of my uncles works as a radio DJ in Northwestern Iowa. He has a warped sense of looking at things and likes to draw on real-life incidents as inspirations for radio bits. I used the word “inspiration,” because the final product may have nothing to do with what actually happened, it was merely the foundation of the final routine that aired.

It’s interesting to listen to how a bit progresses. The formulation process is easiest seen during the course of a meal where events are likely to occur and/or my uncle has his most captive audience. Drastic recastings of events may be sounded out there alongside tiny nuances that are highlighted or deleted.

Sometimes the true story itself is enough to stand on its own merits, and doesn’t require enhancing, but that isn’t always the case. Thus, it has been interesting to hear the tales of my Harley driving grandmother who leaves mounds of empty beer cans and cigarettes in her wake.

It should go without saying I’ve never seen any of my grandparents light up, slam a can against their forehead, or mount a hog. I have relatives who have, some very close, but not like the alter egos my uncle has created.

I’ve told you that story to tell you this one:

Gathering together in Iowa next to the corn field we all know so well (yes, there is a corn field behind my grandparents’ house. While I hate to perpetuate stereotypes, this is one I cannot deny due to its veracity), everyone in the immediate family came from separate directions, and in some cases, separate vehicles. My disc jockey uncle came a day later than the rest of the family.

When asked how the drive was, he lamented that he had come up with three bits along the way, but hadn’t written them down and no longer could recall them.

I know we can all relate, but I share an even sharper kinship with this feeling as I attempt to reconstruct earlier ideas I planned to write about. Some concepts I make a mental note to remember lasted for years until I put them to paper. Others I am sure I have forgotten without even recollecting something has been missing.

Now I am left with traces, shadows.

How does one recapture what was once bright and obvious but has since lost its luster and faded into the shadows?

The truth is, sometimes you can and sometimes you can’t. They are preserved, they are lost.

I think I can remember the foundation of some, and with enough time, may be able to flesh out the shells of previously forgotten constructs.

We’ll see.

The only other caution I can currently give is be wary of any Harley references.

That’s all for now.

'Any_sucking_on_cancer_sticks_should_be_suspect_as_well'

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WAG - Why am I unplugged?
Now there’s a question.

As is my typical practice over holiday vacations, I have been disconnected from many of my usual outlets. This is largely a self-implemented procedure I subconsciously find myself sticking to year after year.

This has been my routine for many years, though it has become more pronounced since I left for college in 2001. It is not always a move made in response to being deprived of fast internet connections or cable television – for I have had access to both and ignored them just the same. This season, I purposely left my computer back at college to prevent me from playing games too much, but other than that, there was no new rationale for the custom.

Of course in stating what hasn’t changed, I must be honest in saying I’ve rarely examined the status quo. Sitting here, I realize my inner motives are largely unquestioned. Maybe this is a good time to ask why have I, both presently and in the past, slipped away from e-mail, blogging, and other forms of networking I otherwise strictly adhere to?

Thinking…

As my mind flitters back to previous holidays. I can think of week-long camping trips where I poured over the events chronicled in newspapers on the way back. More recently, I can think of the 50-plus messages that had quickly accumulated in my inbox only a few days into Thanksgiving break (coincidentally, that was also the last time I found myself typing at this computer station).

It could be a wallowing in a petty luxury to be un-hassled by the self-proclaimed deities of cyberspace: Spam, Surveys, and other unsolicited, self-serving digital dreck.

It could be selfishness: a desire to be free from being forced to answer another’s beck and call.

I’m drawn back to the luxury excuse, for I rarely take the time to sit and finish a book from cover to cover or take up an equal, uninterrupted block of time watching DVDs.

Could it be a small-scale heredity revolution – a quiet self-recognition that this fast-paced world is not one in which man was meant to exist in?

Simple laziness?

Self-diagnosis is a fretful critter. While it may appear harmless and docile, it is far from domesticated. It isn’t even housebroken. It’s application can help one find indications, but the results are nothing to be banked upon by themselves. To give them that much weight is unwise and attributes them too much credit.

I think of self-diagnosis as a deranged performing monkey (or at least I will think of it as such through the conclusion of this metaphor): it is cute to consider but is not meant to build your life around.

Right now, I can see that I am too close to the situation to give an adequate answer to the question I’ve raised. This is a condition that won’t be changing anytime soon. I’m too immersed in the present holiday now to give an un-jaded view, and, I predict, in the future I will be too swept up in regular day-to-day activities to consider the trivialities that arise when one is tuning out and disconnecting oneself.

To further this contemplation on my disconnectedness would be fruitless, and thus, I am better off wasting my time on other matters.

'Already_switching_gears_even_as_we_type'

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WAG - Okay. Taking it easy by starting out slow…

Start with some simple stuff:

See Dick run.

Al is to go with us.

The enormous aardvark loomed on the horizon.

Okay, as demonstrated by the previous sentence, we are branching out from repeating old lines and beginning to create fresh, previously unread sentences. Let us continue in this vein for a time.

“If it weren’t for Hal, that chainsaw, and that demented chipmunk, I bet the whole ship would have been swept assure in Jagged-Boulder City.”

Ow. Strained the brain a bit. Too much too quickly. Taking it down a notch.

Sea crabs can be our friends, if you know how to listen.

The roast would have been more savory if it weren’t for the insurmountable defects of the cook.

I’ve scaled back, but I seem to be focusing on food items for no apparent reason. Now we shall attempt to purposely create random images.

The plot the lawnmower and the collectible lawn gnomes were formulating could account to no good.

The end table toppled to the floor. As it fell, the ice sculpture of the ostrich squatting over its nest slid off, and as they briefly gained momentum, the mother and her un-hatched children briefly joined the other wedding guests on the dance floor.

“Names count for a lot in that industry, more so than in others.”
Despite this last warning from his mother, echoing countless earlier criticisms, Edsel Nixon tried to break into the car industry. He had even less luck than his older brother’s pathetic bid to carve out a niche for himself in local politics.

Good. We have progressed into full paragraph creations. The brain muscles have been stretched. After a sporadic period of disuse, and the beginning onset of atrophy, the mental composing components are being exercised again – and one hopes neither the writer or audience will be too seriously impacted by this occurrence.

'Testing_One_two_Three'

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WAG - Remember

Today is World AIDS Day.

This yearly day of remembrance was started in 1988 with the theme "The World United Against AIDS." Women are 2.5 times more likely to be infected with HIV as compared to their male counterparts and currently make up over 50 percent of the HIV infected population which is why this year's theme is "Women, girls, HIV and AIDS."

Many people will be wearing symbolic ribbons today - and that is good for them - but I think the best thing to do is something even more meaningful and that is taking the time to educate myself more on the subject of AIDS and HIV.

Some of these things I already knew, some are new facts to learn, but these are all things to keep in mind:

According to the World AIDS Day site, roughly 4.8 million people acquired HIV in 2003, raising the overall count to approximately 37.8 million people living with HIV and AIDS globally.

It is estimated that there have been 57.8 million total HIV cases to date.

HIV kills 8,000 people every day. Every minute, 5 people die of AIDS.

It is estimated that 20 million people have died from AIDS to date.

HIV is NOT transmitted by casual physical contact, coughing, sneezing and kissing, by sharing toilet and washing facilities, by using eating utensils or consuming food and beverages handled by someone who has HIV; it is not spread by mosquitoes or other insect bites.

The four ways you CAN contract HIV are...

* unprotected sexual intercourse with an infected partner (the most common);
* sharing needles or other contaminated injection or skin-piercing equipment;
* blood and blood products through, for example, infected transfusions and organ or tissue transplants;
* transmission from infected mother to child in the womb or at birth and breastfeeding.

The science of helping those with HIV or AIDS has come a long way, but there is a lot left to do. Keep these thoughts with you today and throughout the year and that will help remind us to do more to make the world a better place.

'You_cant_get_HIV_by_being_an_educated_friend'

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