Life gets in the way...

Sorry this blog has been so inactive. Had a lot to say, and then once I got started on Facebook I left most of it there. Not exactly a forum for enriching discussion, but was able to vent most of what I needed. A little more conducive than some other sites that limit to, say, 140 characters. But definitely the wrong place for a manifesto (although I will link it there).

So I am dusting off the ol' blog in anticipation of a post on "gun control." Which I will at least start drafting today, and maybe even get published if it's ready. This is just one of the many heated topics of the day that are so frustrating and I wanted to give a thorough working over to.

Unfortunately, married life with a demanding job, a pet, and even minimal hobbies / interests doesn't leave much time for things like blogging creatively (at least for me - some of the bloggers I have followed seem to balance a lot more on their plates AND run very active and well-written blogs). Add-in the terrific news that I am now a father of two, and that both kids are still under two years old, and I pretty much gave up on the idea of maintaining a blog. [I'll spare you pictures and further gushery here for now - those who know me have already seen them on Facebook or live, or should get your ass on Facebook (hint, this means YOU, MOM!) because of how amazingly simple it makes keeping up with both close and distant friends and their families.]

But just when I thing I'm out, they drag me back in. "Gun control" will be the next big topic I address, and in future months if I can muster enough time and motivation I'll try to keep knocking down my little list of "big debate" issues that have congealed into simple "right or wrong" issues to me, to see if it can help others or at least stimulate a more fruitful debate. Keep reading, my friends.

C.R.A.P. Sunday - Bonzo's Ladder

Catch-up Rants And Platitudes - #4 - surreal images

So I burned up a couple of days of my temporary bachelorhood by heading out to my folks' place, near Rockford, IL. As if that concept - willingly subjecting myself to them without the safety and shelter of my spouse - wasn't surreal enough, I went that extra mile and even brought laundry with. Hey, machines that don't gulp down your coins in order to operate - I'll take 'em!!

The drive out there takes you somewhat nearby a nuclear power facility, assumedly at Byron, IL. My eye is always caught by the quite distinctive cooling towers, all the more dramatically due to the inherently frightening nature of nuclear energy. Apparently Illinois is the state with the most nuclear facilities - and I don't think we're glowing, yet. I'm just fascinated with the steam you can usually see rising from the cooling towers.

On the drive over from Chicago this time, I noticed some particularly prominent contrails, which my wife and I incorrectly refer to as "chemtrails" - we're not conspiracy nuts, we got the name mixed up. Again, a fascinating visual phenomenon, very eye-catching at times.

The surreal aspect was seeing a quite distinctive pair of contrails heading downward from the sky, DIRECTLY AIMED AT the cooling towers. My cell phone was (as usual when traveling, since I never broke down to buy a car charger for this model) on "low battery" mode and refusing to take pictures, otherwise I would have documented this for the sheer amazement of it. Of course, given that I was driving alone, in a moving vehicle going 65 mph, if I HAD managed to snap a photo it would have looked like this:

But below is a mini recreation of what I saw ... now tell me that seeing this combo in real life wouldn't make you triple-take?

Granted, there was no plane at the business-end of the contrails, the cooling towers were still intact, and there was no mushroom cloud in sight - but I still had trouble extracting my jaw from the dashboard.

Once I arrived, I gladly accepted the offer of a drink and promptly forgot to mention the sighting to my folks. Alcohol flows pretty freely when I visit with them - I probably drink more in one night with them than I would normally consume in a typical month on my own. This is not to say that I (or they) require the substance to interact humanely ... it has just become a ritual habit we have not "grown out of" yet. This is only the case when I am participating in an overnight, of course. Although I am guilty of having driven while "buzzed" in my youth, I would never intentionally drive while drunk.

It is quite frustrating, then, to hear all these news stories about celebrities convicted of DUIs. Celebretards aside, it is really frustrating to hear all the incidents of everyday people having accidents attributed to driving under the influence. The fiercely aggravating stories are about all these REPEAT OFFENDERS who have had multiple incidents of being caught driving under the influence. It's one thing to make a stupid mistake once. It's wholly idiotic to be in the position of many of these drivers who continue to drive after drinking - even despite tragic incidents in their past.

Some judges have stepped up the "punishments" for these people, and apparently many participate in an ignition lock system that requires a clean breathalyzer test before they can start their car. Sounds reasonable enough, although easily overcome - think of the scene in the movie 40 Year Old Virgin when the chick asks him to "breathe into this" before she starts her car.

Then there is this idiot, who rented a car to avoid his breath analyzer ignition lock, and then wrapped the rental car around a pole. GIVE ME A BREAK! Rental car companies are supposed to be so cautious - not renting to "kids" under 25 years old, supposedly doing background checks and denying people left and right for *seat belt violations*, let alone DUI. Somebody screwed up in a big way letting this guy have a car.

If nothing else, perhaps rental car companies should also provide vehicles prepared for this unfortunately numerous portion of the population, with breathalyzer ignition locks. Hell, if they are not going to bother with background checks, it should come standard. Or maybe you can get a free "upgrade" to a model WITHOUT one if you have a clean driving record?

Ok, enough for now. Hey - a whole blog without mentioning Burris. Whoo-hoo! I need a drink....

---

Anyone get the title reference?
Pictures ripped off as follows: byron.jpg and contrail2.jpg borrowed from wikipedia pages. Others found on google image searches.

Misadventures in Traveling

It almost wasn't going to happen anyway - so maybe I should still be optimistic.

The plan:
Join my wife in Switzerland this weekend, to finally meet the extended family.

The hitch:
I didn't get this month's rotation assigned until the last day of July, so I was unable to pre-arrange for vacation time to fly out overseas.

The miracles:
All the pieces came together at work, and I got my vacation approved for Thursday thru Wednesday. Unfortunately, the deal included starting my vacation while still finishing off my post-call shift (Thursday AM), but if it enabled the timing to work out... it would be worth having only a 6-day vacation with a zombied-out half-day (instead of the usual 7 days). And then not only did I find flights on the days and times I needed, I managed to secure a return-trip on the same flight my wife would be taking back to the States. And the icing on the cake, the price for my late-booked round-trip wasn't anywhere near outrageous.

The procrastination:
So I know I'm heading out to catch a plane on Thursday after being on-call, but by the time I headed in to work on Wednesday I had still not started packing. Par for the course for me. But not too atrocious - my flight out was scheduled to go at 7:30pm, so I *should* have had plenty of time to pack.

The beginning:
Actually started off ok. My night on call was not hellish, and while I did not get much more than 10 minute intervals of sleep, I did manage some shut-eye and felt functional. I was super-efficient at work during the morning, and actually got out of there around 9:30am. Plenty of time to pack, clean house, shower, poop, etc. I was somehow even efficient in packing and straightening up - got more done today than in the whole month my wife was gone.

The wrinkles:
As I am finishing the last little tidbits of packing and cleaning, I notice the sky getting dark outside. Just as I am considering heading out to walk to the "El" station, the heavens open up and Chicago gets a monsoon drenching. Wrinkle #1 - how do I get myself to O'Hare without drenching myself and my luggage? Ok, grab umbrella and walk to the El anyway. Wrinkle #2 - will I have to ditch my umbrella at the airport? Don't think they'll let me carry this spear on the plane. I guess not a big deal - I just never thought of them as "disposable." Wrinkle #3 - I wait a little while for the downpour to slow up, which it does, but now I am cutting into my safety margin for check-in, etc. Wrinkle #4 - what's that "tap, tap, tap" I hear before I head out the door? Oh, yeah - the west-facing window leak that never got fixed. I'm about to leave the apartment for a week, and I'll have a damp dishtowel on the windowsill in hopes of containing the flood and preventing damage to my floor and belongings. Screw it, I don't wanna be late(r).

More wrinkles:
Can't find my CTA pass. No worries, I'll buy a new one. Train pulling away as I start heading up the stairs. No worries, they come pretty frequently, right? Right? Shit ... does the Blue Line come by this station at this time of day, or do I need to take the Pink and transfer? The next train that came was a pink ... but some passengers on my side of the platform did stay behind, so I gambled and won that toss (broke my losing streak there - for a second). Train getting more and more full. I move in a seat and end up with my legs folded on top of my suitcase, with a leg protruding in the space for the seat next to me. "Sorry, no, I cannot move my leg" (as I point to the suitcase). He nods his head like he understands and then proceeds to continue slamming the oversized box on his lap into my right leg. Fun. And then all of a sudden I realize we've been at one of the stations quite a while. "We are experiencing weather-related delays because of the ... weather." The woman over the loudspeaker sounded quite nervous, and despite making the announcement every 5 minutes or so during our 45-minute hiatus, she still never managed to say it quite smoothly.

The train ride was made a touch brighter by the deaf woman that took the seat next to me when box-boy finally left. We had a nice little 'talk' about the weather and our respective trips, with her writing on yellow post-its and my typing back on my cell phone (since she seemed to have trouble reading my writing on her pad).

The catastrophe:
You guessed it - that nasty weather that slowed down our magnificent mass-transit system also caused diversion of many planes headed in to Chicago - such as the plane that would have then been loaded up with me and a bunch of strangers. Instead of noting this, however, the screens indicate that departure will be 1 hour later than expected. At first I breathe a sigh of relief - I'm still somewhat early, but this delay will let me get through security and get settled at the gate without rushing. Or so I thought.

The vein-popping:
Waiting in the queue at the ticketing counter, with about 8 or so other parties there, I start to hear murmurings about "canceled." The guy in front of me and the guy behind me in line appear to know each other, and talk quite extensively, loudly, closely - and with not such pleasant breath - right over my head. I step out of their way and effectively end up cutting in front of the guy, but do so after leaving room for him to advance, and slowly taking his spot when he stays behind to yap. More and more people show up - some filing in behind at the queue, most just milling about on the side of the only apparently-staffed ticket counter. Of course, no staff seem to be around, but this is where a few of the customers were set up when I had gotten into line. Then the most soft-spoken man EVER starts to announce things about the flight, "...working on it ... have patience" - but nothing coherent to me. Like he was just adding to previous details, but not reiterating anything for the rapidly-growing crowd. People start milling about more aggressively, stalking the counter. People rush up onto the scene thinking they are late and missing the flight, having no respect for the queue and effectively mobbing the ticket counters. The gentleman comes back and announces that yes, the flight is canceled - and the chances of arranging alternate flights into Switzerland are increasingly slim, because apparently today was not the first day of canceled flights in, and many other alternates were also canceled today because of the weather. He indicates that the airline will do their best to get people on equivalent flights, some maybe that night but most tomorrow (hopefully!). And then suddenly there are 6 ticket agents - dealing with whomever is in front of their counter. Slowly.

An hour later (no joke) it seems that no one has moved away. More people crowding in, more people between me and these public servants that have no idea how close i feel to snapping.

Finally I get ahold of the customer service number (not posted anywhere, not on my ticket) - but nope, that's actually a phone sex ad. Replace the 1-800 with 1-877 and I DO finally get customer service, and the woman talks around a resolution to my problem three times before i realize she's saying that I'm booked on the equivalent flight tomorrow. Relieved, I step back from the counter and decide to treat myself to some McD's - since it is now after 8pm and I never did have a meal yet today. The joint in the international terminal is of course packed, and - you guessed it - I get in the line that is lapped twice on both sides before I work my way to the register.

But tomorrow is a new day - we'll see how many ways I can screw up trying to leave the country.

:-)

A little eerie...

So there I am, in the shower. No, that's not the eerie part. Nor will I ask you to visualize anything anatomic or any act that might be deemed offensive. At least not yet.

Soaping up the back of my leg (yes, on occasion, I even wash in places that I cannot see), when I feel something that is - well, NOT my leg. Instinctively I swing my hand back around, and even my nearly-blind naked eyes can make out the shape of a soggy band-aid draped across my finger. My first thought is "I didn't put that there," followed rapidly by, "shit - when the hell did I last apply a band-aid ANYwhere?" I couldn't even remember.

My next thoughts center around those urban legend emails that circulate every now and then, detailing how unsuspecting victims get drugged by blind dates, and wake up in bathtubs full of ice with their kidneys missing. "When was I unconscious last? Wait a minute - what's back there anyway that someone would cut me for?!?" Nothing hurt on the back of my leg. Didn't feel any sort of scar or wound.

I work in a hospital, so having a band-aid turn up somewhere in my apartment is not so far-fetched. Maybe a little gross if it's a used band-aid from who-know's-what body site, that stuck to the bottom of my shoe for who knows how many days.... I know this can't be the case, since I've been off for 1.5 days and showered already once since then, besides the fact that this was on my THIGH and I never wear shorts at work.

That pretty much cleared out the "ick" factor, and it slowly dawned on me where my temporary accessory had come from. I had the too-infrequent opportunity to hang with some relatives recently, and last night nearly succeeded in breaking one of my nephews. He was already patched-up when I encountered him, so I can't claim administration of any "war wounds." But one of the band-aids on his knee must have transfered onto me during one of our many wrestling sessions. He just turned 9, so for the time being I am blissfully spared from any real risk during these encounters.

But this time he still managed to leave his mark. Thanks, bud!

About me - updated December 2009

I am a thirty-something surgery resident. Married for a couple of years now, waiting on having kids until my wife and I are a bit more settled in our new town. Without the responsibilities of parenthood, I often still feel like I'm 12 years old - until my breaking-down body reminds me otherwise.

Currently living in Springfield, IL, with family in northern Illinois. I grew up in the northwest suburbs of Chicago, went to the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign for college and medical school, and did a couple years of surgery residency in Chicago. Now I'm continuing my training here at SIU.

Live with my wife and cat - who spend their time ignoring each other fairly effectively. The kitty is featured prominently in the header above. My wife is more camera shy.

I started this blog mostly on a whim, but since then it has transformed into a personal soapbox for ranting about crazy news stories, politics, and irritating behavior. Then it got promptly forgotten when work kicked up again. I do hope to keep up with it a little better for those items, as well as for reviewing books and movies I have found interesting. Books and movie review content will be hosted in other forums (goodreads and Rotten Tomatoes), but I will periodically post updates on this blog to notify of new items.

So - that's all I'll ramble about for now. As you can tell, I am often unfortunately verbose... but I mean well. Happy reading, and please drop me a line to let me know you stopped by, and/or give me feedback or topic suggestions. I thrill at the prospect of debate - so let me know when you disagree as well!!