Hey Penguin, Bite Me

Now that I have your attention...


No, this isn't about the Pittsburgh Penguins hockey team.  The main noun in the subject would have pluralized.  And probably contained some other rude words.


No, this isn't about the cute, little Antarctic bird we all love.


This is about the bad taste in my mouth left by Penguin Publishing.


I am a reader - a relatively voracious one who tends to be very loyal to her favorite authors.  I buy a book, then a series, then replace books that get eaten by dogs, never returned, and now eBooks to replace my hard copies.  


So this very morning, I go to Amazon on my much-beloved Kindle to purchase Sookie 12 or Deadlocked by Charlaine Harris.  I fire up the WiFi, turn the Kindle on, get to Amazon, find the book and...


STOP.  


The price for the eBook is $14.99.


The price for the hard copy - $15.15.


I rub my eyes.  It is after all o'dark:30 and I haven't finished my cup of tea yet.


Nope, still $14.99.


I don't click "BUY".  


I turn off the Kindle.  And then the WiFi.


I walk away.


I walk away from a series that I have bought every book of - some several times over, anthologies so I could get all the short stories, the companion book, been a member of the website for about 8 years, subscribed to HBO to watch True Blood, etc.  I introduced about a bazillion people to the series.  I freakin' named my dog after the main character, Sookie.  


Walked. Away.


$14.99 for an eBook which has no physical product, no wrapping, no delivery charges, no cover art even.  $14.99 that maybe the author will see maybe 20-30% of the total proceeds, whether or not the publishing house chooses to ever really disclose their book sales to the author.  $14.99.


My brother is a self-published author who can wax poetic about the injustices of the publishing industries.  Kindle forums are polluted with vicious debates about the pros and cons of being a writer under contract to a publishing house.  We all know the Apple & Publishers v. Amazon Department of Justice case going on right now.  But today, the whole sordid kit and kaboodle hit home.

Today, I drew a personal line. I am not going to be held ransom to any publisher who thinks that $14.99 is a good price for any eBook.  I am sorry Charlaine, I won't be buying your book.  I'll see if in a few months, once the Department of Justice has brought Penguin to heel, if the price drops.  


If it doesn't, I won't buy.  I may try to get it from the library in about a year.  Until then, I am sure all the book tidbits will be shared on various web sites so I don't get left behind.  


I'll be looking for the self-published who write as well if not better.  I'll be looking for publishers who have lowered their prices for eBooks because they get it.  Or got it once faced with court proceedings and settlements.  


So for now, Sookie Stackhouse, you and I will part ways.  I love you dearly, but I won't contribute to Penguin's bottom line any more.  Maybe someday, you and I will sit down for some sweet tea and a slice of Caroline Bellefleur's marvelous cake.  Til then, ta.

The 2011 Bridgestone Winter Classic – a CAPS Fan Perspective

The Winter Classic – Hockey Mecca for those dedicated and rich enough fans who are lucky enough to get a ticket or strong-arm family members into giving them a ticket. On January 1, 2011, the Washington Capitals and Pittsburgh Penguins met for a clash in Pensburgh.

I was a lucky person attended the event with my brother(Matt), sister-in-law (Renee), two cousins Lauren and Mike, and Mike’s girlfriend (Madison). I had a blast.

The result?

CAPS WON – 3-1.
Enough gloating.

On to the really important stuff…like the whole experience.

Pre-game Celebration: Over at Japers Rink, there was talk of a non-official, official party. Seems that some of the Caps fans didn’t want to pay the $100 for three drinks at the official fan party. So JP and Kevin Ewoldt came up with the splendid idea to gather Caps fans at the Hofbrauhaus (http://www.hofbrauhauspittsburgh.com/) on Pittsburgh’s South Side. I convinced the brother and sister-in-law that this was the place to be, so we trooped out at 7 PM for the festivities.

Dudes, let me tell you what, we got there about 7:30 and the Bier Hall was PACKED with CAPS RED. Packed! We got the last elbow room space at the wall bar right inside the entry way. For the next hour, we’d play official greeters of the non-official Caps New Year’s Eve party. I returned cheers from entering fans, exchanged high-fives, back pats, hugs, and well wishes. We made a couple of good buddies (Kevin from Reston, and Chris, alas a Pens fan.)

We eventually got a table in the dining room and drank, ate and made merry. M&R decided to hit the casino pre-midnight instead of wading back into the madness of the Bier Hall. My guesstimate is that the hall holds about 500 hundred. About 80% of that was wearing red. On the way out, there was a line about 50-60 deep of Caps fans trying to get in.

JP and Kevin – AWESOME idea. A+++

Weather: So for the first time, the Winter Classic suffered a rain delay. The game, initially set for 1 PM, was moved to 8 PM to avoid the buckets of rain. For the days leading up to the game, Lauren and I traded phone calls on the weather status, which looked crappy and got progressively worse. From mere rain, it went to heavy downpours, and finally predictions of up to an inch of rain. We kept hoping the game would get pushed to Sunday, which promised to be 34 and sunny. No such luck. My sister-in-law ordered us red rain ponchos. Cool.

The powers-that-be at the NHL were not forthcoming on rain delay. At first, they said they would go hour to hour which sounded liking a losing proposition. Then they finally said the game could start as late as 8 PM. On Friday, they finally announced the 8 PM start. We shrugged our shoulders and got our game faces on.

The forecasters promised temperatures in the upper 30s by game start. Whoops - Mother Nature went all girl-like on us. Pre-game temperatures were in the low 50s. We dressed for the 30s and wind and rain, but the majority of moisture being generated pre-game was our own sweat. As we came around the front of the stadium (the river-facing gate) we got hit by a slight yet welcome breeze.

While we were in the NHL Experience thingy, someone told us that a squall line was due to come through around 8 PM. We shrugged our shoulders and made towards our gate.

The squall hit about 8:30-8:45. As luck would have it, we had very lucky seating (see the seating section below.) Alas, not so the more expensive tickets in the 100 section.

Between the 2nd and 3rd period, the winds started up and the temperature finally started to drop. But of course, as this was the day of contrary weather, the winds blew in from the east not the more normal west.

By the end of the game, the rain was continuing as the temperature continued to drop. After we got in my truck at about 11:30 PM, we were hit with freezing rain and then snow.

It was the best and worst weather Pittsburgh could throw at us.

Grade: C

Seating: Section 223, Row P – you are the best seats ever.

We had marvelous seats in the second section of the first tier. The seats were in the enclosed end of Heinz field, and as we trooped up to our seats, wonders of wonders, we were under the overhang for the second tier – no getting wet for us! We were directly behind the Home (Penguins) goal. The only action we couldn’t see was anything directly at the goalie’s feet.

Our section, 223, was a majority of Caps fans. Our row had only one lone Penguin fan in it, my cousin Lauren. My other cousin and his girlfriend were in Row H, and lucky for them, just under the overhang as well.

Every Caps goal brought out an entire round of high-fiving and chanting – “C-A-P-S, CAPS, CAPS, CAPS!”

Great seats.

Grade: A

Fans: What can I say – the Caps fans rose to the occasion and were amazing! There was unity in our love of the team that Rocks the Red. I got more hugs and high-fives during the whole weekend than I did at my college graduation.

The Penguins fans seem to run the gamut from nice to indifferent to rabid to pure haters. I had one Pens fan (not my cousin) hug me and congratulate me after the game. On the trip out of Heinz Field, we ran into a couple of teenage haters who would be better served to expend their anger tracking down terrorists or cleaning out sewers. Someone with a few more psychology classes than me, offered up a “Flyers Suck” chant that diffused the situation. The people following our small army of combined fans out of the stadium seemed amazed at the rallying chant. But then, who doesn’t hate the Flyers?

Speaking of chanting, during the minutes leading up to the opening ceremonies, Caps and Pens fans exchanged cheers. One brave individual, wearing his Sabers Jersey and a ridiculous Mohawk hat, stood up and yelled during a lull, “Let’s go Buffalo!” Kudos to you, young man.

And jerseys – wow. The collection included:
• Team Canada
• Buffalo
• Maple Leafs
• Flyers (boo-hiss)
• ‘Canes
• Canucks
• Montreal
• Devils
• Sharks
• an Old Whalers
• A huge selection of vintage and current Pens jerseys
• Caps Winter Classic
• CAPS RED!

Grade: Caps Fans/Other Fans – A
Pens Fans - B-

NHL Fan Experience/Village/Whatever the heck it was

Fail. So what do you get when you pack 70,000 people through a ¼ mile of service road around Heinz Field? Mass Hysteria.

This was by FAR the biggest disappointment of the whole event. Too many people in too small an area, and no way to get into any of the vendors or displays without throwing some hip checks.

The only ones enjoying the experience were the folks at the hot chocolate stand, because everyone was too hot to drink cocoa before the game.

One highlight was the face-painting stand. The Pens side of the stand was about 20 people. The Caps side of the stand, 3. Got my Weagle with glitter as did my sister-in-law. My brother opted for no glitter on his Weagle.

Grade: D-

Entertainment: I’m stumped when it comes to what the heck the NHL was thinking when it picked the bands. I mean, really, Styxx? I didn’t know until after the Classic that during the Steelers game, they have a video rally that uses “Renegade” as the music theme. Okaaaaaaaaaaaay. Got it. Wasn’t anywhere as good as the 2010 Winter Classic at Fenway Park where they sang “Sweet Caroline” between the 2nd and 3rd periods.

Hinder was okay, not what I would have picked. And the Clarks – the poor Clarks. A local Pittsburgh band that was all but drowned in the squall that started during their 1st/2nd period intermission show. Bless your hearts.

Steven Page singing the Canadian National Anthem, brilliant. I love to sing “O Canada, which is set in a reasonable octave, unlike the United States National Anthem which is best performed drunk or by howlers monkeys, or perhaps drunk howler monkeys.” Jackie Evancho, from America’s Got Talent, the precocious twelve year old, managed to mangle the word “perilous”, but didn’t flinch when the Caps fans belted out “red” as in “rockets RED glare.”

The best band of the Classic was a band performing outside in the “Experience” zone. Alas, I didn’t hang around due to the whole salmon swimming upstream effect.

The only good thing to say is that the entertainers were a step up from Chaka Khan at the 2010 NHL Awards show.

Grade: C

Wrap-up: Blast, blast, blast! It was for the most part, freakin' awesome! Applause to the organizers, the teams, the fans, and my family for a great 2 day Caps adventure!

Meet Thelma & Louise - Looking for a Forever Home

Meet Thelma and Louise (to the left of the big dog). Two foundling puppies looking for a forever home. These adorable litter mates are some sort of yellowlab/husky mix and are about twelve weeks old. They are calm, smart and very loving. They are looking for a permanent home where they can be together forever.

Thelma looks more husky-like than her sister. She has a teddy-bear soft coat, and a big heart. She is the dog that will be sitting at your feet every night. Louise is the smoother coated of the two and is a little angel. She is more petite than Thelma and very sensitive. Louise will be your ball-player and hiking companion.

Since I don’t know their medical history, they are going through the full rounds of puppy vaccinations and worming. They’ve had round one and have two more to go. They are as house-broken as twelve week old pups can be. I currently keep them in a crate during the day, with a lunch time outdoor break. They are romping and playing with my large dogs like pros, and are cat curious, not cat aggressive.

These two are going to need a home that will keep them as indoor pets – both have heavy down coats and will be uncomfortable in the summer heat. They will be larger so their new family will have to understand that they can’t be crated for endless hours and will need exercise. They will need a weekly brushing to keep their down coats from matting. These two will do great at puppy school. My vet was impressed with their demeanor and attitude.

The perfect family for them would have older children or perhaps an older couple looking for new companions.

To adopt these babies, here’s the deal:

• Potential adopters must have a vet reference and personal reference


• Potential adopters will have a home visit


• Homes with a fenced in back yard preferred


• Adopters must understand what “forever” and indoor pets mean


• The adoption fee is to cover their spaying and micro-chipping

What you will get in return are the two best companions ever. These two are going to be beautiful, loving dogs that are the sunshine in your life. In South Carolina, over 19,000 adoptable animals are euthanized every year. These two are escaping that death sentence and looking for their forever family.

Contact me via the comments section on the blog or via Facebook.

Egads - the truth will out...

Read the email rant that started this...

Obama Surrendering Internet to Foreign Powers

Sunday, 31 Jan 2010 06:41 PM

By: Bradley A. Blakeman

Without the ingenuity of America’s brightest minds and the investment of U.S. taxpayer dollars, there would be no Internet, as we now know it today.

Now, the Obama administration has moved quietly to cede control of the Web from the United States to foreign powers.

Some background: The Internet came into being because of the genius work of Americans Dr.Robert E. Kahn and Dr. Vinton G. Cerf. These men, while working for the Department of Defense in the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency in the early 1970s, conceived, designed, and implemented the idea of "open-architecture networking."

Read the rest below.

---

My Response:

Wow - this is so bad, I don't know where to begin. Let's start with basic facts. While DOD did some of the underlying computing work to build TCP/IP networking, we ALL know that Al Gore really invented the Internet.

The Internet is vast array of GLOBAL (always has been!) computers and networks using the TCP/IP technology that came out of DOD for space flight. DOD has a vested interested in their two proprietary Internets - ARPA and DARPA. If you want all the gory details of the Internet and how it came to be see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Internet . And be prepared to yawn.

What is the Internet anyway? The World Wide Web, email, FTP, telecommunications, and more! Things most of the world never ever even sees. Seriously, though, the dude that invented the Web as we know it was invented by a really cool guy named Tim Berners Lee from, gasp, England working for a pan-European group called CERN. Read more about Tim at http://www.w3.org/People/Berners-Lee/

IANA is operated by ICANN (not U.S. Dep't of Commerce!) and may more appropriately be called the owner of IPs, domains, etc. ICANN is HQ'ed in California by the way and is directed by an international board of directors. ICANN negotiates with all governments world wide for domain space. And let's face it, the US is probably the 800 pound gorilla when it comes to initially buying domains. You've got to have someone watching the shop or else the Chinese will start backroom-selling knock-off versions of the Web.

For a long time Network Solutions based in Herndon, VA held the stranglehold on registering IPs and domains in the U.S. They were declared a monopoly, and then we had the birth of cut-rate registries born, like GoDaddy.com. (And who doesn't love those commercials??!!) What happens is that there are top-level domains that are assigned to countries/entity types/etc by ICANN and their governmental agreements.

Registers buy blocks of these top-level domains and then parcel them out to various organizations. So you know, Verizon walks in and buys about oh, say 5,000 high level domains that they then parcel out to their various business units and eventually trickles it ways down to you at home. You at home, unless you are a real geek, probably don't even have an IP address that is your's and your's alone - most home networks get assigned a random IP address from their host network when the home user connects to the Internet.

Curious about your IP address? http://whatismyipaddress.com/

So what I THINK the author was trying to point out was the recently signed (9/30/2009) agreement between US DOC and ICANN amending the original 1998 agreement. Now here is where you need to put on your thinking caps people. I have worked with government entities for nigh on 15 years. I've got the insider track on this...If this amendment was signed on 9/30/09, just WHEN did the negotiations for the amendment begin? Just taking a guess on how long it took for this agreement or any agreement to be reached, it probably was the terminus of 2 or more years of hard-work by mid-senior level attorneys at DOC and ICANN. And doing the math, that would make it taking place in the Bush Administration. Putting on my shocked face!

For instance from the amended agreement, read Item 8:

8. ICANN affirms its commitments to: (a) maintain the capacity and ability to coordinate the Internet DNS at the overall level and to work for the maintenance of a single, interoperable Internet; (b) remain a not for profit corporation, headquartered in the United States of America with offices around the world to meet the needs of a global community; and (c) to operate as a multi-stakeholder, private sector led organization with input from the public, for whose benefit ICANN shall in all events act. ICANN is a private organization and nothing in this Affirmation should be construed as control by any one entity.

Basically, ICANN is going to do what's its always done - help preserve the Internet for everyone who uses it. I bet the dude who penned the gunk below doesn't know that ICANN along with CERN and CERT (CERT is HQ'ed right there in good ole Pittsburgh, PA at Carnegie Mellon) have dedicated teams that keep the Internet safe from the losers who invent such crap like the Conficker virus and other such hacking marvels.

So now that I am going for jail writing ARPA, DARPA, Chinese, and Conficker in the same email which I am sure is a violation of the Patriot Act, please bear in mind that Obama is not the anti-Internet demon waiting to have all our computers spew our credit card numbers out to malicious and ill-willed Nigerians wanting to take over your bank account.

Your Internet is still free folks, even to distribute stuff like this. Feel free to contribute to my bail fund.

ciao!

ki

---

Read the rest of the bad stuff...

This breakthrough in connectivity and networking was the birth of the Internet.

These two gentlemen had the vision and the brainpower to create a worldwide computer Internet communications network that forever changed the world and how we communicate in it.

They discovered that providing a person with a unique identifier (TCP/IP)that was able to be recognized and interact through a network of servers would allow users to communicate with others.

The servers woulduse a series of giant receivers to recognize the identifier and connect networks to networks, passing on information from computer to computer in a seamless real-time exchange of information. This new process of communication became know as the "information super highway," aka, the Internet.

Now for the bad news: In an effort to show the world how inclusive, sharing, cooperative, and international America can be, the Obama administration set off on a plan to surrender control and key management of the Internet by the U.S. Department of Commerce and its agents.

The key to the control America has over the Internet is through the management of the Domain Name System (DNS) and the giant servers that service the Internet.

Domain names are managed through an entity named IANA, the Internet Assigned Numbers Authority. The IANA, which operates on behalf of the U.S. Department of Commerce, is responsible for the global coordination of the DNS, IP addressing, and other Internet protocol resources.

In short, without an IP Address or other essential Internet protocols, a person or entity would not have access to the Internet.

For years, the international community has been pressuring the United States
to surrender its control and management of the Internet. They want an international body such as the United Nations or even the International Telecommunications Union, (an entity that coordinates international telephone communications), to manage all aspects of the Internet in behalf of all nations.

The argument advanced for those seeking international control of the Internet is that the Internet has become such a powerful, pervasive, and a dependent form of international communications, that it would be dangerous and inequitable for any one nation to control and manage it.

Just this past spring, within months of Obama's taking office, his administration, through the Department of Commerce, agreed to relinquish some control over IANA and their governance. The Obama administration has agreed to give greater representation to foreign companies and countries on IANA.

This amounts to one small step for internationalism and one giant leap for surrendering America's control over an invention we have every right and responsibility to control and manage.

It is in America's economic and national security interests not to relinquish any control. We are responsible for the control, operation, and functionality of one of the modern world's greatest inventions and most powerful communications network.

What better country to protect the Internet than the United States?

We invented it, and we paid for the research and implementation that made it
possible. We are the freest, most tolerant nation on earth, we believe in the
fundamental right of free speech, and we practice a free market of commerce and ideas.

America has always been against censorship and has shared its invention with the world without fee or unreasonable or arbitrary restriction. The user fee to operate on the Internet is not one paid to the U.S. government; a consumer pays it to private Internet companies, who provide access to the Internet through servers for their subscribers.

Look no further than China's recent move against Google to censor the
Internet, and you can envision what can happen when other nations less free
than the United States seek to control the Internet beyond even their own borders.

America needs to wake up. If we lose control over the management of the
Internet, we have given away one of our nation's greatest assets with nothing
in return to show for it.

The Obama administration's actions will set in motion a slow and complete takeover of the Internet by the United Nations or some other equally U.S.-hostile and unfriendly international body. And once it is gone, it will be gone forever.

The surrender of the Internet will spell disaster for our nation, financially, as well as for safety, security and our standing as a great power that values freedom and the free exchange of ideas and information.

As far as I am concerned, America is still the last best hope for a more
peaceful and prosperous world and our president should not be looking for
ways to weaken us. Rather, his job is to work to strengthen us and protect our nation's greatest asset our people's creativity and ingenuity.


Bradley A. Blakeman, who was a deputy assistant to President George W. Bush from 2001-20004, teaches Public Policy & Politics & International Affairs at Georgetown University.

Here's 2010 - Yippee!!!!!

After grinding through yet another year, I decided to write a blog to actually make resolutions and goals that will guide my decision making in the next year or two. You see, 2009 SUCKED! A lot of people had a sucky year, and thankfully, mine didn't tank like some did, but all the same, in my personal micro-world, it was not a pleasant year.

For many, many reasons - not the least of which my dog died and oh yeah, the guy who I was living with left me (because he's effin' crazy! No, really - crazy as a bedbug! Just ask his psychiatrist!) between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Of course, losing the dog hurt more, but dealing with the man and his injuries and all that attendant crap took a big bite out of my life.

So onwards and upwards...here's my New Year's Eve blog!

Top 10 Resolutions for 2010

#10: Don't get bit by a feral cat, for the love of Pete!
#9: Take more multivitamins to avoid being sick (again.)
#8: Avoid cutting down any tree over 10 feet tall.
#7: Ride your horse(s) more often.
#6: Do something new that makes you slightly uncomfortable at least once a quarter. Push your boundaries. The USMC Mud Run does qualify. However, see Resolution #4 for guidelines.
#5: See ALL your doctors this year. Even the ones you don't like.
#4: No broken bones. No exceptions.
#3: Trade in devoted significant other hat for the cougar cap. Meow.
#2: Get a body that looks good in the cougar cap.
#1. Whirled Peas or at least peace in my living room.

Top Goals for 2010

#10: Run three miles a day 4x a week by this time next year.
#9: Eat healthier
#8: Get rid of any clothing you haven't worn in 2 years.
#7: Read at least one non-fiction book a month. Read one new book once a month.
#6: Pamper yourself AT LEAST once a month - buy a special food, get a massage, go do something that is special just for you and don't share.
#5: Annoy someone at least once a month.
#4: Laugh. More.
#3: Remember, payback is indeed a b*tch and her name is Kristin.
#2: Work life, don't let life work you.
#1: Finish your book. And then the second one. And then sell them. Good luck.

Cue the Breaking News Sounder - USMC Mud Run Update!

I survived the 16th annual USMC Mud Run. Barely, and with help from my team mates, but I survived. It was a LONG 4.2 miles with 30+ obstacles, and LOTS of mud. Did I train? Not much. My summer was eaten away by injury after injury - kicked by a mule, biten by a feral cat, breaking a bone in my foot, all the fun stuff. I went in knowing that I was inadequately prepared for the mud fest, but despite all that, managed to finish.

There are plenty of people who can tell you how to train for the mud run. I thought I would share my now first-hand knowledge with the world on how to survive the mud run.

1. Set Low Expectations: It’s okay NOT to want to win. It’s okay NOT to place in the top 100. My goal from the start was to still be breathing at the end. And my friends, I was. I met my goal!


2. Embrace Your Pain: Pain is a good thing. You don’t have pain if you are dead. So appreciate the fact from Number 1, and keep your feet moving.


3. Don’t get attached to your clothes: Reference Picture 1 to understand what mere words can’t prepare you for.


4. Laugh! The more you laugh, the shorter the course will seem, and the better time you will have. Unless you a REALLY serious competitor trying to complete the course in less than 50 minutes, then have some fun with it. Mud can be fun!


Other Important Things

Dress appropriately. No, seriously. Dress appropriately. You have a beer gut? Cover it up. Unsightly scars – hide them. No one can afford to be distracted during the over and under logs by your lack of clothing. Ladies, wear a sports bra at least a size too small. You need to be as aerodynamic as possible when mud running. And don’t wear girly girl stuff, if you want laid that bad, go to the bars after the mud run. And please don’t tell your team mates while on the course that her outfit makes her boobs look perky. That’s a great way to bring the race to a stop.

Ignore the Marines yelling at you, unless they are telling you an alligator just crawled into the Tarzan pit. You are doing your best. (As an aside, I did meet one wonderful marine who cheered me all the way to the BIG mud pit – he made me laugh, which cost me valuable oxygen, but I appreciated it.)

Remember the fun you had as a kid, sliding on your butt down a hill? Revisit your childhood and slip-slide away down steep hills to save your ankles and knees.

Ignore the first water stop. This is a trick. What you don’t know is that in front of you is the Z-Ridge and at the end of it, your body will expel any liquid left in your stomach.

Oh yeah, the BIG MUD PIT. It’s a dozy! If you haven’t swum fully clothed for a long time, you may want to practice it a few times to remember the drag of clothes and shoes. And don’t be too dismayed by the ropes at the other end that you need to pull yourself out with. At least you made it to the other end.

Accessorize appropriately. By this, I mean make sure your shoes still have tread left. Everyone will tell you to wear an old pair of shoes. But what they don’t tell you is to make sure you have some traction left. I didn’t realize what little tread I had would (literally) disappear during the course, and I would be ice skating across, down, through the mud. Duct taping your shoe laces is de rigueur, and it may even be gauche to not have taped your shoes. Kinda like wearing white after Labor Day.

Build up your repartee. While most of the course is survived by brute force, your quick wit may come in handy. For example, as we were grinding our way to the end up and down the killer hills (this may have been called Heart Attack Hill on the official obstacle guide, which would be very appropriate), I slipped on a down side due to lack of tread, and face planted into the next up-hill. At this point we were nearing the end and spectators were gathering. I heard the crowd gasp as I embraced yet more mud. I, feeling no pain at this point, jumped up and yelled “DIRT – It’s what’s for breakfast!” My new fans yelled and clapped.

Get a tetanus shot, if you haven’t had one in awhile. For reals.

Buy some Imodium. Uh-huh, think of it this way – about 7,000 people are going to be swimming through the same mud pit. ‘Nuff said.

Rice paddy/Light Armored Vehicle Trenches. Right. Don’t try to crawl, don’t try to swim. Float. And pretend you are a crocodile. Use your arms only to propel you forward. I moved faster and got a little rest that way. There was only one “rice paddy” that only had 6 inches of water in it, and the floating technique wouldn’t work. Crawling through it felt like crawling through wet sand paper. Also, no flutter kicking, per my team captain.

The Z-Trench. Oh, for the love of Pete! Wasn’t the Z-Ridge enough? I gave up trying to walk this damn thing that would go from knee-high water to a 6 foot drop and crocodile swam. Take that, course designer person!

10 foot Vertical Walls. Take the two minute penalty, don’t be a hero.

Tarzan Pit – let go while you are over the water. Not when you hit the wet clay on the other side.

Litter carry – you’ve made it. It’s only 100 yards of screaming hell as you carry one of your team mates on a litter to the finish line. Your muscles are crying for more oxygen, your eyes can’t focus. And then one of you team mates says “lets run.” What a jester!

Post Mud Run

There is a party going on once you cross the finish line. It’s okay to walk around wet and muddy for a few minutes. It’s your badge of honor, your Purple Heart, and your platoon’s colors all rolled into one. Of course, you are still trying to breathe at this point. But soak in the admiration. You deserve it.

The water and the orange wedge you suck down will be the BEST ever.

When it is time to start the de-mudding process, hopefully, you remembered to bring a garbage bag for your wet and muddy clothes. Feel free to toss your shoes in the provided garbage can outside the changing area. The clothes you see in the pictures went through a fifteen minute rinse process, and that’s what they looked like.

Feel free to bring a shower kit with you. The water is ice cold and you are out in public, but the more mud you can get off here, is the less mud you will carry home.

At home de-mudding: Remember to clean your ears when they are wet. Or better yet, buy an ear cleaner kit pre-Mud Run for use afterwards. If you try to Q-tip your ear clean, it will hurt. And don’t expect to get all the mud out on the first try. It sticks with you for days.

Post Mud Run Pain Relief. I sucked down 4 Advil as soon as I got back to the truck. And about 4 hours later, took 4 more. Find a muscle relaxer for that night – it will help with the twitching. Do try to do some work the next day. It will hurt, but it helps to get things moving. Also, drink lots and lots of water.

Wrap-Up

Did I have a good time? Yes! Will I do this again? Maybe! Am I in pain? Yes!

Hey, wanna see what I’m talking about? Take a look at these:

The State Newspaper Photo Gallery

Midlands Connect

WIS TV Coverage

See the whole course - Someone wore a helmet cam!

Kudos

Hats off to our team mate Phil!!!!!!!!!!!! He pulled our sorry asses (mine in particular) through the course. He's my hero of the week!

Hats off to Liz who finished even with a concussion from bonking her head during her Tarzan Pit experience.

Hats off to Mike who understood my pain when I had to crawl out of my truck to open the gate to our driveway.

Hats off to my S/O Joe, who helped me out of my sports bra when my arms wouldn't move.

Hats off to Matt and Leo, our co-workers, who inspired us to pull together a team and participate.

Hats off to the event orgainzers - truly one of the best run events I've ever been a part of - wonderful job, and the key valet - superb!

Hats off to the vets that we ran and raised money for - thank you!

Help Save the American Wild Horse

Horse lovers and advocates for the American Wild Horse are aghast at latest atrocity being committed by the Bureau of Land Management, part of the Department of Interior. The BLM has now rounded up Cloud and his band of wild American horses from the Pryor Range in Montana. The BLM plans call to eliminate approximately 33,000 horses through euthanization/adoption/sale to kill buyers because of budget cuts during the prior administration.

Read another great blog about this on-going round up here: http://rtfitch.wordpress.com/2009/09/09/the-managed-extinction-of-cloud’s-herd/

You can help save Cloud and his band and many other wild horses by contacting Robert Abbey of the Bureau of Land Management: Robert_Abbey@blm.gov and Ken Salazar, Secretary of the Interior at: feedback@ios.doi.gov. You can also email the White House at by using the form at http://www.whitehouse.gov/contact/. And please forward this to any horse loving friends so that they can help as well.

From a press release from the Cloud Foundation:

Right now there are twelve entire herds being eliminated from 1.4 million acres near Ely, Nevada because these lands are suddenly not appropriate for wild horses,” Kathrens continues. “However, no action has been made to reduce cattle grazing in these areas.” There are no grazing permits in the Pryor Mountain Wild Horse Range and reasons for holding an unprecedented removal this year are not clear. The range and adjacent lands are in excellent condition following three years of drought-breaking precipitation.

Cloud and the wild horses of Montana’s Pryor Mountains are world famous but fame and an outcry from the American public does not seem to impact the BLM’s plans. There are currently only 190 wild horses (one year and older) living in the spectacular Pryor Mountains. The BLM plans to remove 70 of them, including young foals and older horses who could be sold directly to killer buyers.


***************************************

You can help by using the form email below that you can copy and paste and send to Mr. Abbey.

Subject: Pryor Mountain Round Up

Dear Mr. Abbey -

It is with much dismay I heard about the round up of the Pryor Mountain Range horses, including Cloud and his band. Cloud is an ambassador for the American Wild Horse, and while he is slated for release, his herd will be drastically reduced to the point of genetic non-viability. Not only is Cloud and his band in danger, but every wild horse captured during this round-up. Foals and older horses can be sold directly to kill buyers waiting to transport them to Canada and death. Despite calls from the U.S. House and Senate to stop until the Senate can take action, the BLM has continued with this horrible course of action.


As an American taxpayer and concerned citizen, I am asking that the BLM immediately take action on the following issues:

• Wild horses over the age of 10 should be released directly back into their range. Their prospect at adoption is low and it is cruel to make them suffer only to bought by a kill-buyer.


• Herds should not taken below 150 adult animals to maintain their genetic viability


• There needs to be inncreased scrutiny of the Bureau of Land Management’s Wild Horse and Burro Program. Our wild horses and burros need immediate change and an end to their mismanagement.

Mr. Abbey, I would ask for your immediate attention to this issue and look forward to your prompt response on how the BLM will be addressing these issues as well as the reasoning for the Pryor Range round-up.

Your Name

Address

email
****************************************************************

Thanks for your help!

Weekend Training Regime

I originally wrote this for my mud run team, so they didn't think I'm slacking. Here is an abbreviated version of my weekend training regime. Duplicate it at your own risk.

Early Morning Roll Call: 5:30 AM - Desensitization Practice
Start with an approximately 20 pound feline walking up and down your prone body with its claws out. After the fifth pass, the cat will have performed enough skin preforation that you will be awake and ready to face any pain the day brings.

Morning Aerobics: 7:30 AM
Chase ducklings around their crate and then across the porch until you stuff them into the cat carrier. Run like hell for the baby pool before they poop in cat carrier. Repeat manuever several times.

Morning Aerobics, Part 2: 8 am
Turn garden sprinkler and have it face the wrong way. Dodge and twist the ice cold blast until you can get behind it to turn it off or put it into the correct position.

Morning Upper Body Strength Training/Water Hazard Navigation Practice:
Remove waterlogged trees the size of telephone poles from the spillway where your conditioning coach, Mr. Beaver, left them for you.

Morning Wind Sprints:
Open garbage can keeper to find a wasp nest and many very angry wasps. Run. Fast.

Lunch break:
Lay on kitchen floor and pant.

Post lunch Upper Body Strength Training:
Flip over 600 pound round bale of hay. Pause. Repeat.

Post lunch Lower Body Strenght Training:
Climb in and out of pickup bed approximately 500 times. Increase exercise complexity by trying this while juggling power equipment

PM Aerobic Training:
Run through Wally-world with a 100 pound buggy as fast as possible.

PM Stretches:
Hang out at least 5 loads of laundry to stretch all those used muscles out. Cool down.

New Farm Project

Our farm is blessed with a LOT of water. We have water on three sides of the property, and are basically a penisula into a small lake. We have a medium sized stream that runs around the back and curls around one side, a black water pond which spills into the "big water". Perfect habitat for water loving creatures: herons, turtles, otters, egrets (Egrets? - I've had a few!) snakes, and the hero of this blog, at least one beaver.


As my brother and father know who have helped unblock and clean up after him, we have a very busy beaver(s). Unless the temperature dips below 30, or the water is flooding over our spillway, we wake up 5 days out of 7 with Mr. Beaver blocking our spillway overnight. So every day, Joe (or more normally me) goes down and fishes out all the crap he has piled in there the night before. I am utterly amazed at the size of some of the logs (think small telephone poles) that end up blocking our spillway, and the engineering that goes into the construction of his (or her) dam.

Most local animal control and even state wildlife people consider beavers nuisances. In South Carolina, the preferred method of getting rid of a nuisance beaver is to kill it in a drown trap. Obviously, for an animal lovers like me and Joe, that is not an option. The beaver is just doing his job of making his home liveable. I met an orphan baby beaver, a kit, once. He was just as adorable and cute as any puppy or kitten and just as well behaved.

Beavers are pre-programmed to dam running water. They hear it, and they have an instinct to go dam it. And given the propenderence of small trees, large trees, and pond weeds in our blackwater pond, the beaver has about enough material to keep damming for the next 50 years, give or take a year.

So low and behold, I was just cursing the beaver again when I caught a show on Animal Planet called "Leave it to the Real Beavers". It introduced me to the Beaver Deceiver, a way to keep beavers from damming culverts using cedar posts and fencing. (See the Beaver Deceiver here: http://www.beaversww.org/solutions.html). So now my problem is to adapt the deceiver to a spillway, not a culvert.

So I'm contacting the US Fish and Wildlife division, Partners for Fish and Wildlife and see if they can help me come up with a design to adapt the deceiver for a spillway. I think the initial design will work, with some small adaptation. And then it will be time to round up a crew to build a new beaver deceiver.

I'm hoping that I can interest SC Dep't of Natural Resources to write an article about the implementation of a beaver deceiver so that folks see that there are ways to live with a beaver that don't involve its death.

This ought to be a cool project in a lot of different ways. As it progresses, I'll blog about it. Til then, may you stay as busy as our friend!

bathroom humor...

So, I decided to take a quick break in the action at work and run to the restroom. It's been one of those days that you have to just finally take the time to make bathroom break. I have a (bad) habit of using the handicap stall just because it affords more room to maneuver. If you could see our 1950s bathrooms made for children that now adults must use, you’d understand my preference for what I call the luxury box.

Anyhow, you all know the ludicrous pose we women assume in a public toilet, half squat – half crouch, which puts undue stress on body parts that shouldn’t be stressing at this point in time. And given your pants are shoved somewhere around your knees, you are effectively hobbled.

Well, I am in the pose, do my thing, and reach to yank some toilet paper off the industrial size roll, when shazam, the holder falls open and drops a 20 pound roll of unstarted toilet paper into my hobbled/crouched lap. And I am in the bathroom all alone in the luxury box, with no hope (or real desire) for any help.

“Crap” I thinks and then pause. “Okay, no crap, but what to do?”

Besides the pose and hobbling, I am dealing with a somewhat non-functioning left wrist. It’s probably broken somewhere in those myriad of small bones, but I am refusing to go to a doctor purely out of hatred of my medical insurance. (How, you might ask, did the aforementioned wrist get allegedly broken? Sleep walking – another new bad habit. I ran into the door frame so hard, I woke Joe out of his drugged sleep.) So add bum wrist to the pose and hobbling and now trying to hold onto a 20 pound roll of toilet paper with one good hand.

I sigh. This isn’t going to be pretty, no matter what I attempt to do.

Luckily (my first break during this whole experience) the holder door has stayed ajar. I rip the glue-y part of the toilet paper to get the roll started. It falls dramatically, like a feather drifting in the wind to the right. I maneuver the roll, gritting my teeth as things roll in my left wrist, and hoist the roll that is the size of medium-sized pumpkin back into place. And then the inner Miss Manners versus Project Manager dialog starts:

“So which way should the paper hang – on the left- or right-side?” Inner Miss muses.

Project Manager replies, “Well, what risks are there in hanging it on either side? What do the customers want? Do we need a risk mitigation plan to deal with left-side hanging? Will right-side hanging cause a significant impact to scope or schedule?”

Inner Miss sniffs. “If you do not know to which side the Ritz Carlton hangs its toilet paper, you are uncouth and uncivilized.”

Project Manager gets snotty. “We have a project here we need to complete. Pick a damn side and be done with it!”

God bless the PM for winning.

I shut the door. It falls back open. I shut it again. It falls yet again.

The inner engineer kicks in, “Apply ample percussive maintenance to any object not obeying the rules of plastic injection molding.”

I slam it shut and glare at it. You know, the mad woman stare that stops most men and (smart) dogs in their tracks.

It stays shut.

I complete my project. I finish with the obligatory soapy hand-washing. I go to get paper towels. The paper towels jam.

I run.

Worker's Comp - Part 2

Well, if you have unfortunately found out about worker's comp the hard way - my sympathies. If you are reading this out of curiousity, take mental notes, campers! Today, we are going to talk about the "compensation" end of workers comp.

Disclaimer & Bad Grammar Alert!: Compensation and it's governing laws will vary GREATLY from state to state. Please check in with your workers compensation commission to get the exact details of what you should be getting paid, and what your settlement or suit may consist of!

So, you've been hurt on the job and you'll be wanting a check. Now, ask yourself, prior to getting hurt, did you ever really give a rat's ass about workers compensation? Or were you just ho-hum, great, something else I'll never use...? Me, I was in the rat's ass category. It existed, and that's all I knew. My bubble was burst when Joe was hurt, and did I have a lot to learn. (See Worker's Comp Blog 1 for more info.)

Basic facts:

• The state you live in will guarantee you some form of worker's compensation payments
• The state will govern how often and what amount you get paid
• The state will govern what your settlement may (0r may not) consist of

Here in South Carolina, you are guaranteed 2/3's of your weekly pay up to the state average salary. Catch that last part - state average salary? To misquote Billy Shakespeare - there's the rub. Given that SC is one of the poorest state's in the nation, the state average salary is miserable. It is a mere $647 a week which totals $2,588 for the month. Now for some folks, that's quite a bit. For someone who makes the monthly total every week, WOW, so NOT covering the bills.

Now Worker's Comp is not taxed - you won't owe state or Federal taxes on it. (As an aside, when/if you settle, you will owe Social Security taxes on your settlement, but that's a tale for another day.) But that's all you get. And in South Carolina, the worker's compensation insurance company is allowed to average your salary over the last 18 months. Zowee, Batman! Talk about a further reduction!

So your workers comp check will come in specified intervals from the workers compensation insurance company. And the moon is made of green cheese which is harvested by little men from Mars. Do not count on your check being on time, particularly around the holidays, major economic events, or any time you really need it. Our lawyer advised us NOT to have it direct deposited - that has an even worse track record for timeliness. Supposedly, your lawyer (if you have retained one) could go after the WC insurance company for late payments, but it's not high on their priority list.

Now the next thing to understand is that there is a time limit to your workers compensation claim. In South Carolina, you are allowed to collect/be on workers comp for 500 weeks, or almost 10 years. That seems long, but for a major life-changing injury, it may not be enough.

I know, a lot to digest, so I am going to talk about settlement and suits in a different blog. I think I am due for a funny blog in between serious ones, so don't look for the next Workers Comp blog for a couple of days.

Smackdown

WASHINGTON — Gov. Mark Sanford might not have even known he was in the
wrestling ring when U.S. House Majority Whip Jim Clyburn delivered an emphatic
smack-down from Washington.

The State Newspaper, January, 30^th, 2009

Whooo - go Jim Clyburn!

So before I get ahead of myself, let me pause and reflect. Mark Sanford, the economic conservative mouthpiece of the GOP, doesn't care about the unemployed or the under-employed, and certainly doesn't have a grasp on reality.

This is the man, who has been trouncing the Employment Security Commission, threatening not to sign a loan from the U.S. DOL (which he had NO choice but to sign - go ahead and call DOL, they'll tell you) to pay benefits to the unemployed in one of states suffering the worst from unemployment.

So U.S. Representative Jim Clyburn from South Carolina, the third most powerful Representative in the House added a last minute amendment, that bypassed the mouthpiece,and got the money to the SC Legislature.

After 6 ineffective years as governor, Mr. Sanford has choosen to grandstand on the backs of the unemployed, instead of getting his own house in order. The reasons that South Carolina suffers can be traced all the way back to the Civil War, but the lack of leadership and no efforts at bipartisanship have left the state in a shameful position.

Chose a ranking and watch how SC stacks up (all the latest stats available):

Infant Mortality - 3rd in the nation (U.S. Census, 2005 )

Most Dangerous - #4 (In sub-categories, in Assault, SC is #1, murder #4) (CQ Press, 2008)

Unemployment - 4th Highest (U.S. Census, 2007 )

Persons below poverty level: 11th Highest (U.S. Census, 2006 )

Traffic Fatalities: 3rd Highest (U.S. Census, 2005 )

Wow, talk about a state needing a Federal hand! And our Governor, who is well-off and married to a well-off woman would like nothing better than to spite South Carolina's collective face by refusing to take bailout money.

But our willy fox, Jim Clyburn knew the ways the political winds would blow and did an end-around our lame duck gov. Money desperately needed to repair roads and bridges will be making its way to SC DOT; children may get to go to class in safe schools; and the elderly will have cut programs restored.

It is time for South Carolina to take a hard look at itself. It's current government structure is not working for the benefit of the taxpayer. Yes, the Federal stimulus package is a quick windfall that may not be repeated ever. But South Carolina can make changes that would vastly improve the state of the state. And save it boatloads of money.

I think Sanford's idea of consolidation a great one - just why hasn't it happened? Why does it seem like he has more enemies on his side of the aisle than the other? Whatever happened to building politcal bridges as well as physical ones?

The statistics above point out a very sad fact about South Carolina - it's dysfunctional. Top to bottom and inside out, South Carolina suffers because no one has given a big enough damn to make things right. Poverty and lack of education and opportunity leads to violence and despair. And worse yet, people have convinced themselves this is how it is supposed to be that acting ignorant is okay; pollution acceptable; and the way things were are good enough for the next generation.

I am hopeful that a new crop of leaders will be inspired to try to make a change in South Carolina. If we can just carry some of the enthusiasm that sparked the nation to make a change, South Carolina may stand a chance. Amen.

Living on Workers Compensation

Listen up campers, I'm going to blog on a topic that a lot of don't know anything about, but if it happens to us, we wish we knew more about. The subject, Workers Compensation Insurance - the point of view, the significant other of someone who is collecting. If you are a Workers Compensation person from the other side of the equation, you'll not be happy reading this blog.

I am also going to write in a series, not just one. There is way too much for one blog to cover and give you enough information to help you muddle through the quagmire of workers comp.

Joe, my other half, got hurt quite seriously while on the job. It was a spinal cord injury that left him paralyzed for three days. After trying to work with the system for about 2 weeks, I got fed up and we retained the services of a lawyer. So please keep in mind the severity of your injury before you jump on the lawyer happy path. Severe injuries like a spinal cord injury or amputation or major burn will need legal assistance. A cut that heals normally with a few stitches and a few days, probably won't.

And as another aside, for anyone thinking they've hit it big by getting a workers comp claim, please do all the really injured people a favor, and jump off a bridge now. Seriously.

So here is some the information YOU need to know about workers compensation, what it is, what it isn't, and what you need to do to make sure you are getting the appropriate level of care.

Workers compensation has a long and checkered history in the United States. Check out Wikipedia for more on how it got started. But please note this from the opening line on the Wiki article:

"...is a form of insurance that provides compensation medical care for employees who are injured in the course of employment, in exchange for mandatory relinquishment of the employee's right to sue his or her employer for the tort of
negligence."

Did you catch that? Workers comp is for compensation medical care only. You have given up the right to sue your employer for negligence. If you understand that going in, it won't be such a big shock towards the end of your case or whenever you find out.

Let's take our case scenario, and work through it. Spinal cord injury, temporary paralysis due to swelling of the spine, discharged from the hospital without a whole lot of information, and sent home without further instruction from worker's comp. Week number one rolls by, and we finally get notified (in writing) from the workers compensation insurance company that a case manager nurse will be coming to visit.

Warning, warning! Workers Compensation Case Manager Nurses

Case manager nurses aren't your friend, and they certainly shouldn't be visiting at your house. Set the visit up for a public venue. You do NOT have to accept a dictated visit by the workers compensation insurance company. Remember, the case manager nurses are employed or third-party contractors who are being paid to get you off the workers compensation rolls as quickly as possible. Often, they will testify against you when you go to settle by claiming what they saw at your house could have been the cause of your injury.

Warning, warning! Workers Compensation Adjusters

Maybe I'm painting a whole industry with a tar brush, but these people are not your friends either. In fact, they are planning on giving you as little care as possible and back to work as quickly as they can. Do not talk to them any more than you possibly can; give them as little information as possible; and be prepared for lashback if you get a lawyer. Joe's workers compensation adjuster called him the first day, while he was in the emergency, on very heavy medications, paralyzed, and started reading him the company handbook on workers comp. Joe was in no way or shape able to digest this information or make any sense of it. As a little payback after we got our lawyer, he required that all of Joe's prescription medication be approved by him - something our pharmacist never heard of before in his career. Later, our pharmicist told us he would be happy to testify in court about this nonsense.

Okay, who is your friend?

One of the first things you need to do is figure out what laws your state has in place governing workers comp. Most states will have a workers compensation commission that oversees the rules and regs, companies and claims, claimants and settlements. Each state is structured somewhat differently. Here in South Carolina, we have a workers comp ombudsman who is a wonderful lady appointed to help the injured find out what their rights are, and help them understand the process. Above all else, find out what your rights are if you are severely injured.

Jury's Still Out - Workers Compensation Lawyers

As our case is in progress at this point, I'll refrain from too many comments on workers comp lawyers. We've all seen the ads on tv for a lawyer who will represent you if you are hurt and make sure your bills are paid. Well, point in fact, medical bills, and some portion of your weekly compensation. What the lawyer is good for is getting workers compensation off their ass and pointed in the right direction. IF there is a possibility of third-party suit, trust me, they'll sniff it out asap, and get busy finding out who else they can get $$$ from. By the end of our first visit with our lawyer, she had him in with the best pain management doctor in town, through our case manager nurse.

On the downside, workers compensation lawyers take a chunk out of your settlement. In SC, by law, it's 1/3 of your settlement. Gulp. That's a HUGE amount of money no matter what your settlement size is. You will sign a contract with the lawyer for their services, so don't think about trying to get around their system.

All right, this is a very small portion of what you need to know about workers compensation and how it works. Trust me, there is a lot more. Tons more. But take these away:

1. As soon as possible, contact your state's worker compensation commission so you know your rights, what is owed to you under state law, and how the system works.
2. Do not be bullied by the workers compensation insurance company or your employer.
3. Do not meet with the workers compensation case manager nurse on your property if at all possible.

Look for more tomorrow on compensation.

Change Happens

Today marks the change in presidential administration. Over the weekend, we had a change in administration at the house. Sookie has become Alpha. She claimed the dog bed beside my side of the bed. That had been Sunny's place, and then Gus claimed it after Sunny passed. Now Sookie has it - the ratty beat-up bed, but the one closest to Mom.

Jack, the Jack Russell, is the oldest dog in the house at 6 years old, but Sookie, the only female (and the biggest) now has pack leader status. Elrod made the mistake of growling at Sookie as she walked past him while he was eating. She had him down and pinned in less than three seconds. She held him there, and then calmly let him go. Poor Elrod.

Except she doesn't have rank over the cat. The cat calmly walked into the bedroom last night as we were getting everything sorted out, walked into the middle of the alpha dog bed, laid down and gave Sookie "The Look." Sookie (already very well cat-trained) got nervous and walked over to the other side of the room and laid in her old bed.

Rudy the cat is having issues. I am not sure what is causing the issues, but he is having issues. Perhaps since Gus was his whipping dog, Rudy is now bereft of his punching bag. Perhaps Rudy who goes outside with my dogs and comes back in just like the dogs, thinks he IS the alpha dog. He is beating up on all the dogs, bit me this morning, and is having way too much fun with his catnip mouse.

Rudy is my second cat. I've never asked for a cat, they've always adopted me. My first cat Callie, was my barn cat, who decided she needed to move indoors. Rudy was already resident at the farm, and starving to death when we moved there. We feed him, brought him one night when it got cold, and he stayed ever since. He got a bladder infection last March that cost us $400 to fix, so he is now forever known as the $400 cat.

"Don't stay out in the dark" we yell at Rudy - "You cost us $400 - way too expensive for a fox to eat!" I've heard Joe tell Rudy quite rudely that his $400 ass was not allowed on the kitchen counters. I'm sure that has something to do with his cat pyschology - knowing that he "cost" more than the other house animals.

I don't know a helluva lot about cats. They aren't dogs (pack animals) and they aren't horses (prey animals). Their little brains work in very weird ways. They get happy and they bite you. Totally don't get that. They are self-centered, and self-sufficient and very often, self-absorbed. What I think makes the cat happy and what does, normally are very different things. I can assert myself as uber-alpha dog whenever I have to, but try to do that with a cat. They'll just run around and pee on your favorite furniture.

I am not quite sure what to do with Rudy's issues. Wait and let him work them out? Take the catnip mouse away? Take him to AKC obedience school? I'll ask some cat people for advice. I'd like to get them fixed so Sookie can be the true alpha dog.

Post-Gus, Day 2

Well, it's the day after saying good-bye to Gus. I don't want to be melancholy, but I am. I don't want to look in the refrigerator and burst into tears, but I am. My heart still pounds painfully every so often - I think with remembered dread still causing a spike in my heart rate.

I threw his medicines away this morning, the stop-the-nose-bleed drops, and the pain pills. The pain pills made me wheeze and gasp, trying to not to sob. What really got me were the treats under the sink I bought him for Christmas, still there and unfinished.

The house this morning was quiet - so much so it was eerie. I didn't realize what a loud dog our blind sheepie was. There wasn't any of the extra bustle that had filled my mornings. Getting Gus up and down the hallway, following him around outside in the pre-dawn dark, getting him in the house, and his gentle huffs and sighs. Gus panted, probably because he wore a wool coat, albeit fashionably short in warmer weather, but still warm. And he thunked into things, which sometimes made the whole house rattle.

The muppets seem to be feeling the change. For the first time ever, they came back to the house on their own this morning with no extra prompting (read yelling, calling, or chasing down.) Sookie especially knows her big brother is missing. She was upset yesterday when she saw his body in the garage, and this morning she seemed mopey. Elrod was upset because his people were upset. The cat who was outside during the day's events, came in last night, and searched the entire house sniffing and looking. The Jack Russell, in typical terrier fashion, is acting like nothing is wrong, except not having enough food in his bowl.

I realized sometime last night that I could have a coffee table again. After 9 years of no coffee table, I am kind of used to the anti-extra furniture trend. I can't imagine having a coffee table. Really, can't. In my head, it makes the room smaller, and a lot more lonelier. Maybe in a few months I'll think about a coffee table, but I can't yet. Besides the muppets need their wrestling space.

I know that all the extra care and tending I put into Gus I can now point and do something else with, but I am not sure what. I would happily keep giving all that I was giving to have a healthy Gus back and in my arms. But the point is, I can't. I am coming to realize that what I was telling myself to make myself go through with our decision to euthanize Gus was really, really true. He wasn't coming back, he was dying in pain. The die were cast, his race was run, and it was time to let him go. His spirit - the spark that made Gus - had already left and was only held by the merest tether of a beating heart.

We thankfully have a busy weekend in front of us. Tomorrow we go see the Lippizan stallions in performance, Sunday we may go upstate to have dinner with Joe's family; and hopefully Monday, my parents will be here, trying to flee any more bad winter weather. I really need my mother's hug right now. I am buoyed by the news that my brother and sister-in-law are getting two foster puppies tonight! What a great adventure they have in front of them! I am almost jealous. We can plan our first weekend get-away now; it's almost been a year since we've gone anywhere.

But in between all that, I'll be missing and thinking and trying to smile about my big sheepie, Gus.

Eulogy for a Dog

In memory of Gus "Bus" Iden July, 1998 - January, 2009

We had a hard to decision to make yesterday, or for me. it was the day before. Gus, our beautiful white-headed Old English Sheepdog, had been diagnosed with nasal cancer during the summer around July. It had started with a some hellacious nose bleeds and horrific snoring and escalated into total blockage of the sinuses. It culminated last weekend with the cancer
errupting into his eye socket causing him pain and distress. Within two weeks our once 93 pound dog droppped almost 20 pounds - the cancer was eating him from the inside out. It became apparent to me that we had come to a fatal decision point - either now or in a few horrible pain-filled days.

Gus had fought cancer valiantly for 7 months. Canine nasal cancer doesn't have a cure, it doesn't even have a good way to fight it. The surgery is horrible, the radiation afterwards even worse. My vet said that he wouldn't even put a young two year old dog through the ordeal. Instead we chose to give Gus the best life he could have for the remainder of his time. Over the last week, Gus turned into a zombie dog, who could barely put one foot in front of the other and who had stopped eating. If you knew Gus, you knew that was a very bad thing.

I agonized with the decision by myself until last night when I told Joe. He agreed that it was the right and best thing to do, and this morning we called the vet. Beth came to our house and help put our sheepie into a gentle rest. He was so close to going you couldn't tell when he slipped from our world over the rainbow bridge. We held him up to the end loving him as best we could.

There are tons of other blogs about losing a loved one, and lessons in life, and the pain of making the euthanasia decision. This blog is about me trying to heal some of the holes in my heart today.

Gus was a very good dog. Not great, mind you, but a very good dog. You see, like most dogs, Gus gave us all pointers in unconditional love, respect, friendship, and how to love whatever food is in front of you. But unlike most dogs, Gus had a few more lessons for me to learn and keep.

Most of you wouldn't know that when I brought Gus home, he had one beautiful brown eye and one blue eye. About 2 months after I adopted Gus from the Old English Sheepdog Rescue in North Carolina, he went to totally blind. Both of his retinas tore and detached, leaving an otherwise healthy and young 2 year old dog in the dark. Adding insult to injury, he grew
cataracts over both retinas, leaving boths eyes a milky blue. I always blamed his blindness on the rough start he got in life - left in a dog pen in the hot sun in Charlotte, North Carolina for the first full year of his life. The fur on his back was still brown from being sun-burnt when I brought him home.

But Gus and I both adapted to his changed world. I got rid of the coffee table, and he began to put his full trust into me.

We learned how to communicate. "Slow" meant "hey stupid, there is a tree (or house or car or horse trailer) right in front of you!" "Other way, Gus!" meant to execute an incredible tight turn in the other direction because impact was emminent. "Step, step" meant that the altitude was about to change one way or the other.

We still had accidents along the way. A quick-footed pony gave him a concussion and 10 staples in the head. I kept a bag of frozen peas handy to keep on his noggin after "Slow" and "other way" didn't work. But Gus, for the most part, worked it out. He had his Sunny, and then his Sookie to help him when Mom wasn't there.

Gus - your zest for life and love will never be forgotten. No matter you were blind, you wanted to play like the rest of the dogs. You barked and chased, and wished you could get that damn Jack Russell just once. You never let a garbage can lid stand in the way of getting what you wanted, by God, if the garbage smelled good there was something in it for you! Peanut butter kongs were a requirement, not a nice-to-have. And despite your people's best intentions, if there was some place you wanted to go, you were going regardless of how many bushes, holes, fence posts or donkeys were in your way.

And love. Gus always trusted that there would be someone around to love him. Someone he could feel and who would hold him. And if you were too busy to touch him, then he would touch you. Mostly by shoving his head through your legs, and squirming until he got his whole body between your legs. The looks of surprise on all the new people Gus met when he first did that too them! When the big, shaggy head would poke itself right out above your knees. Everyone would laugh and then get the message Gus was trying to tell them - love me. Easy enough to do for a dog so full of love himself.

And who among us who knew Gus doesn't have Gus claw scars on their ribs or their knee from Gus reminding us that he was present at the dinner table?

Gus had a love of well-endowed women too. If there was a large chested chick in the crowd, Gus would find her. And within the first hour have his head between her boobs. I used to warn any endowed women meeting Gus that he would be all over them, but I decided to keep it our secret. Every dog needs one or two. Secrets that is.

I said to Mom this morning, that even in times of immeasurable sorrow, you must remember to count the joys. Gus was a joy, a clown, a train wreck, and my giant living teddy bear. My heart is breaking with missing him. I know my love for him will always be there, and a piece of his heart will stay with me until the end of my days.

Now Gus is over the rainbow bridge. By now he has found Sunny and they are having a joyful reunion. And best yet, his eyes can now see what he hasn't been able to for 9 years.

Gus, our big goof-ball, rest in peace. We love you now and always.

Folly #1

I'm angry. Upset. Irritated. All of the above.

Wanna know why? Read this: http://www.thestate.com/politics/story/634720.html

Basically, the governor of South Carolina is holding unemployed people hostage to his whacked-out idea that by not signing for a Federal loan will cause an agency to reform overnight.

Currently in South Carolina, there are 77,000 people on the unemployment rolls, making it 4th in the nation for unemployment. Considering the growth of the unemployment rate, the low charges to businesses in South Carolina for unemployment insurance, and the lack of fore-thinking by ANYONE have created a perfect storm of a dwindling unemployment benefit trust fund. As of Wednesday, the South Carolina trust fund is depleted and there are no more unemployment checks for anyone.

The South Carolina Employment Security Commission (ESC) asked for a $147 million loan from the Federal Government (which must be repaid.) Governor Sanford is refusing to sign the loan request. Instead, he is grandstanding on the backs of the unemployed, demanding that ESC submit to a legislative audit and to cooperate with the Department of Commerce.

I get that ESC needs to be more transparent in its actions. I really do - I've been working with ESC for over a year to get them to the table to sign off on a project that is nothing but benefit for them. What I don't get is Mark Sanford's timing. The unemployed are already down and out - are you trying to kick them in the nuts again, Mr. Sanford? It's the holidays, people are already feeling pretty damn miserable, so you just want to up the ante and add no more unemployment benefits to them? It would be a pretty interesting study to see if the rate of suicide among the unemployed has gone up in the last month here in South Carolina.

And ESC, get over yourselves. It's time to stop building brick walls, tear down the ones you have in place, and start working with other agencies. Your dogma of non-cooperation is damaging the very people you are supposed to be helping.

And US DOL, it's time to intervene and get these warring parties to the table.

Give people some hope for the new year.

Wasabi

Foible (n): A minor weakness or failing of character

We all got 'em. Mine are legion. Some I choose to lament over, others I embrace and adore. So for my first true blog, I thought I would tackle one of my foibles - a dislike of spicy hot food. Truly. I abhor anything that makes my taste buds hurt. I just don't get spicy hot.

Actually, I just don't get hot. I forget everytime I eat Thai that Green is hotter than Red. I think green and think cool/mint/lettuce/spinach. I end up with tears rolling down my face. I don't get people who cover good eggs with hot sauce. I don't get eating salsa that can double as perming solution.

So today at lunch, I pick up some grocery store sushi. Back in cubeville, I carefully fish out the wasabi placed on the picket fence green paper separting it from the good rolls. With surgical skill, I examine the pickled ginger for any sign of wasabi. Pleased at the ease of wasabi avoidance, I prepare my rolls by liberally dunking them in soy sauce. I munch through my first two, happy as the proverbial clam.

And then it happens. Undetected wasabi contamination.

I pop my third roll into my mouth, chew and prepare to swallow, when pain fires over my tongue. In midst of the swallow, far too late for spit and run, I feel the back burn of wasabi make a beeline up my throat into my sinuses. Nose hairs catch spontaneous fire, and I joke you not, a small mushroom cloud formed out of my nostrils.

The body, in response to the overload on the heat monitors, activates its personal sprinkler system aka the PSS, sometime known as tears and sinus discharge. The hands go into defense mode, trying to keep the evader out of the eyes by pressing them into the back of my skull. Any attempt at looking like a well-kempt professional has gone by the wayside - my mascara is now dribbling down my checks and past my nose.

I reach for my diet coke, when to my dismay, I discover it is freshly opened and its effervescent fizz is now carrying more wasabi particles up my nose. Again the PSS kicks in with additional fire retardant. I reach for a kleenex to stem the tsunami of snot. I come up for air, and then go back under. Finally, I grab a wheat thin and throw it on the fire.

The rage of wasabi slows. I eat another wheat thin. The fire wans. After 10 wheat thins, my breathing pattern has slowed from a marathoner in mile 20 to someone who just climbed a set of steps. I look at my sushi and shudder. It goes in the garbage, and my box of wheat thins serves as lunch for the day.

Ah wasabi - you got me again, you bastard.