An Apple a Day

An apple a day'
Keeps the doctor away
Or so they say
and thus it must be true

If we take that as gospel
Then perhaps ten would be better
Let's ask the apple apostle
And see what he says

Oh mighty apple guru
Where one is good
Shall many be better?
Or is that more than I should

Shall I be wary?

In response to my query
He gave good advice
If a little scary
And it was so good
I read it thrice!

Dear apple questioner
Your askance is reasonable
Though inadvisable
For reasons I shall now get into

One apple keeps things moving
Your stomach and upper GI
Your colon it groovin
All things work like they should

But add in too many
And trouble comes a plenty
Your stool will be
How you say?

"loose"

I don't mean the kind you sit on
With it's legs getting wobbly
I mean the kind you leave behind
And don't want to pick up after yourself

Lets just say it gets messy
And leave it at that
So keep the apple consumption within reason
So you don't scare the cat

As you would with the scene
That would happen if you
Consumed too many apples
Which I would term as more than two

Regards to your apple intentions
I remain the guru in question
Representing apples
In all their description

The Guy On the Side of the Road

There's a guy lying on the side of the road.

I think to myself that that just can't be. It's right next to a boat shaped planter thing which has a mailbox sticking out of it. Maybe it's someone's scarecrow decoration that tipped over.

Except, I drive this stretch of road twice a day. I've not seen a scarecrow thing there before. It just feels wrong.

It might be some person that went out to get their mail, and collapsed near the mailbox.

I was a couple hundred yards down the road now. And there were lots of other cars around. Nobody stopped.

WTF?

So now I'm concerned, that everyone is just driving by and not checking.  So I pull to the shoulder, and hang a u turn. My heart is racing because I'm worried I might have to do CPR or something.  It's been four years since my last refresher course.

Or maybe this person is dead.  Or maybe it really is just a scarecrow. If it is, I'm going to set it back where it goes, so it stops freaking me out.

I get back to the driveway and pull in.  Grabbing my phone, I hop out and come around the car. Sure enough, it's a guy. 

I call out to him, "Hey, you all right?"

He opens his eyes, "I'm fine.  You got any food?"

I guess I ignore that second part, I don't have any food. 

"You sure you're ok?" I ask again, I'm not really buying it. 

"Yes, I'm good.  They've checked on me.  Give me some food."

Ok, now I'm a little irritated. So I give some lecture-y advice:

"you shouldn't lay there.  I thought you were hurt.  Lots of other people will too you know.  Plus you're like, five feet from a highway.  You could get hurt."

"Give me some food, or go away" is all he answers with. 

So I tell him he should move again, and I walk back to my car.

I'm still concerned, but mostly annoyed now.

But, as I drive away, I think that maybe he does need help of some kind. So for only the second time in my life, I dial 911.

911 picks up "911 Dispatch, what's your emergency?"

I'm not sure how to start, so I introduce myself

"Hello, this is Fred Robel calling,...........um.....I was just driving home, and there was this guy.........."

They interrupt me, "If this is about the guy on the side of the road, he's already been dealt with, and he is fine."

But I persist:  "Yeah, it is, but I mean, I stopped and talked to him, and he IS ok, or he says he is.  But, he's still there....."

They give me the official brush off:  "The police have been dealing with him all day sir.  They transported him to the hospital, and he was fine.  There isn't anything else they can do for him."

It was apparent that nothing was going to happen.  So I thanked them, and they thanked me, and we hung up on each other.

At this point, I'd like to say that I went and got him some food and dropped it off to him.  Or offered him a ride somewhere.  Or something, anything.

But I didn't. 

I stopped and picked up Chinese food for my family, and drove the rest of the twenty miles home thinking that I should have done something.

I didn't see him there on my way to work this morning.  Nobody walking, or sitting, or laying anywhere I could see.  No man in dirty jeans and maroon carhart jacket anywhere to be found.

No chance to redeem myself.

Maybe someone else helped him out. 

Or maybe I was supposed to be that someone.

And someone, dropped the ball.

Cheers, to me thinking I should rename this blog to something like:  My Failing at being Human.

Preemptive Homicide?

So I have a modest proposal, and no, it doesn't involve genocide.

I've seen the Tyvonne (Tyvek?) shooting that happened in Florida recently, absolutely beaten to death in the media.  This guy that shot him, Zimmerman I think is his name, may or may not face any kind of punishment.  For what may or may not have been a justified defense shooting.

That someone has the right to shoot someone if they are threatened with violence, I do not dispute.  I'm down with that kind of cowboy shit.

That someone has the right to carry a firearm I also believe in.

Where the rubber meets the road though, is in how they use it, and when, and where.  I know there are guidelines for this crap in all the state firearm carry laws.

And who, who do you use it on?

That's a sticky thing.  As you might have seen above, I don't remember the kid's name.  I'm not even going to look it up.  He's dead.  Plain and simple.  There is no reason for me to know his name.  I didn't know him, I didn't love him.  But should he have been shot?

Let's make the assumption that he was threatening violence on that Zimmerman fella, because otherwise there is no real discussion, it would just be some degree of murder.

Assuming there was violence in the offing, should Zimmerman have shot him?  Did the kid have a weapon?  Does it matter?  I've seen people get beaten to death with someone's bare hands (thanks internet!), so I know it can be done.  Maybe this kid was a bad kid.  Does that mean he deserved a death sentence?

Here's a really weird thought:  Would it be better to let the kid beat on you some?  Or just shoot him?  What sort of an attack really deserves an armed response?

If you have a handgun, does it matter?  After all, you could be disarmed, and the gun used against you.

So I guess I answered that one myself.  If you have a gun, and you are attacked, you have to assume that the other person could get your gun and use it against you.  Therefore, a lethal response is your only choice.

What if there are no weapons involved?  Should you go for the kill?  After all that is a major movie trope, one that gets reenacted in real life often as well; the bit about the guy coming after you again at a later date, and you don't do so well this time.  Should you kill them preemptively?

Now that though, opens up some interesting doors.  Kind of leads to a free for all of defensive killing, before there is even a fight!

I think it sucks.  I have more questions than answers.  To really turn the other cheek, one would have to not go armed to begin with I think.

I don't remember where I wanted to go with this when I started.  Something about citations for improper gun use or some such.  And here I am, at the sad conclusion, that if you carry a gun in public, you should just shoot everyone you see until you run out of ammo.  Why?  Because any one of them could attack you at any moment, and take your weapon from you, and use it to kill you instead.

There, that's why I don't carry.  If I did, it would only lead to homicide!  Otherwise, why carry one?  A fashion accessory?  Please.

Cheers, to preemptive homicide!

Oh, I forgot, one of the reasons I wanted to write about this, is what I read that a Facebook person said.

He said something to the effect of this:  "That kid in Florida had been suspended from school multiple times, been caught with drugs, and had punched someone in the nose, breaking it.  And you're telling me it was a mistake to shoot him?  He deserved it!"

I was appalled to no end.  I didn't even reply.  How do you reply to something like that?  It's like saying that if you've done something wrong, then there is no hope for you, you should just die.  Right now.

If what he said is true, then I should have been shot around the age of 20.

But I didn't get shot.  I lived on.  I grew up, and saw the mistakes I made in life.  I try to not make them again.  I try to be a good person.  I fail often, but I keep trying.

It's all you can do.

But that kid in Florida?  He doesn't get a chance to be a better person, to learn from those mistakes.  He had judgement passed on him, and died in a puddle of blood on the street, wearing his infamous hoodie.

And I can't even be troubled to remember his name.

Smell You Later

I smell everything

I don't mean that I just smell things as an automatic thing, just like seeing everything, yet not taking it in. Although, it is partly true. I mean that I really smell stuff.

I have a tendency to investigate things with my nose, a little too much for most people's comfort. I don't know why, but I do.

You'll catch me doing it often, usually smelling my hand or my fingers. And yes, sometimes that means there is something gross on my hand. But it just as often could be something nice.

A hint of perfume from someone I recently came into contact with. The scent of cut grass. My lunch. One can never tell.

It is yucky smells that catch the imagination sometimes though. What does that bug smell like that I just crushed? Let's find out. SNIFF

I'm rather sensitive to smells as well. Working where I do, doing what everyone does around me. There are often interesting smells.

Cutting of phenolic material generates a very unique smell. Acidic, and biting in my nose. I can smell it from hundreds of feet away sometimes. I've been told there is a lot of formaldehyde in it. But I don't recall what straight up formaldehyde smells like anymore, if I ever did. So I take them at their word.

Jet fuel is another big one around here. It is slightly different than kerosene, but in the same family. And it lingers. Boy, does it ever. You get some on your skin or clothing, and that stuff just hangs around and won't quit. Sometimes even after multiple washings of your skin or clothes. Some clothes you might as well throw away afterwards, hard to say what it will latch onto permanently.

There are a few smells I like at work. For no good reason, other than they are pleasant. I say it like that, because I shouldn't like them.

there is a particluar kind of Hysol two part epoxy that I love the smell of. I've actually stuck my nose into the can to get more of it occasionally. To me, it smells like sweet almonds. And yes, I know that isn't necessarily a good thing! But I like it just the same.

It's probably a good thing I don't work with it every day. I'd have more drain bramage than I already do most likely.

Certain smells remind me of things. And there is no telling when they will hit.

There is a certain mix of high octane fuel and exhaust smell that reminds me of when I was a kid, racing Quarter Midgets in Lansing. That is a good smell. Sometimes it wafts by and whisks me away to my youth. I like those kinds of smells.

I suppose being olfactory oriented isn't that unusual. I just wish I could turn it off sometimes. I mean, who wants to be put in a foul mood just because of a smell?

I'm glad I tend to live and work where I do. Being in the North Country, whether it's in Waaaay upstate NY, or in Northern Lower Michigan, means that the air quality is not half bad. Much better than in East Lansing area, where I grew up. Not to mention all the other places aviation could have taken me, such as Los Angeles, New York City, etc.

I'll just process all the smells I get, and see what images I get in my head from them. I hope for good mental visions, I can use all of those I can get.

Cheers, to smelling good, or bad, or anything at all.

Aviation Maintenance & Medicine: A Shallow Contrast

There are two people in particular, who can, and probably should rip these thoughts to pieces for me. At which time I can reassemble them in a massive EDIT. Regina, Michael, this means you.

I had some thoughts on similarities and differences that exist between aviation maintenance, and the business of medicine.

I don't have a problem thinking of medicine as a business. As long as it is an ethically run, evolving, customer oriented business model. That could be a very good thing.

I have it easy in aviation in contrast to being a doctor. My 'patients' don't have families, or feelings themselves for that matter. I don't have to worry about pain management, or other human considerations.

I do have something akin to health plans though. The customer who owns the aircraft.

When I look at something, whether it's in the big Repair Station at my main job, or on the side, with a small plane and a regular guy owner; the customer always has the final say as to what gets fixed.

Now, if certain things don't get fixed, then I can't certify the aircraft or part as being airworthy. So there is a certain amount of things that can get fixed without much consultation.

But some things, especially things which are considered cosmetic in nature, it is really up the customer whether or not they get repaired. And truth be told, although quite honestly nothing that I've ever signed the final airworthiness release on, the customer can elect not to have pretty significant things fixed. I don't agree with it, nor would the FAA; but there it is.

I can fix it if I choose. But nobody will pay me to do it. Sometimes I have though. If it didn't involve a lot of time, and I could scrounge up the necessary airworthy parts for free.

How does that compare to the business of medicine? It's not my speciality, but I can see some parallels.

In the analogy, you would be the airplane, the insurance company is the customer who is paying out, and I'm the doctor.

Of course, it breaks down a little bit when you consider that the human patient can pay out of pocket to have something done. The poor airplane has no thumbs, and no wallet, thus not that option.

There are some areas where medicine and aviation can, and should, and probably already have, shared practices. That would be in error reporting.

In aviation, errors result in incidents, and accidents. We have unnapproved parts problems, sometimes not causing a big deal, but they could. Those can range from using a bolt from the hardware store instead of an aviation company, to parts made counterfeit, on the cheap, with fatal flaws that aren't caught due to the cost cutting in the counterfeit process of production.

For such parts, we have the FAA Suspected Unnapproved Parts program. It's a way we can report such things to the FAA. An investigation can be launched, and notices sent out to all effected parties if needed.

We have incident, and accident reporting. Incidents being things that happen, that don't involve damage, injury, or loss of life. Accidents are when something gets smashed up, or someone is hurt or killed.

The wonderful thing about all these reports, are that they are public record. And we can learn from them. All one has to do is look in the right place at the NTSB, or the FAA, and the reports and investigations are there.

Another thing I think, and hope, that doctor's and nurses share with each other: Tribal knowledge.

These are the tips, tricks, and lessons all learned from doing the things we do for a living. Told with candor, and humility, and often humor.

You think a story about someone being horribly injured, or killed, can't be funny? You haven't talked to many aircraft people. It's usually a mix of the funny and tears, depending on the amount of alcohol involved. But I've been there for those stories. I've learned from them.

And more importantly, knowing all that stuff, has made a difference in how I go about my job. When I approach a particular thing, I often think of the stories, and I tell myself: Ok, I know not to do THIS, or THAT. Because something bad happened.

Another thing that should be universal, whether it's fixing aircraft, or humans: Honesty, as in transparency.

There are policies, at the best aircraft repair places, where there is an immunity clause.

If you accidentally damage the aircraft while working on it, you will not lose your job because of coming clean and telling your boss about it. Usually, there are no consequences, sometimes there are small ones. Depending on the situation.

By the same token, if you damage the aircraft, and you try to hide it by not telling anyone. Your job is most often instantly terminated.
I think that this is a very very good thing. If you accidentally put a hole in the fuselage of an aircraft, maybe even damage the support structure under the skin; it would be a very bad thing for that plane to fly away without that being fixed. People could die.

So having an escape like that to bolster people's integrity, is very important.

I've damaged the airplane before accidentally. It happens. Plan it into the budget, and deal with it.

I might be crazy, but I think doctors and hospitals need to do that same thing. Hopefully they do.

Here's where it gets a little sticky though. In an ideal world, a doctor makes a mistake that causes major harm, crippling or killing someone. I want him or her to be able to tell about it, and own up to it. To share what happened, with all the humor and tears, and not lose their job, or be ruined over it.

Lousy doctors shouldn't be allowed to practice on people, but we have that in aviation too. Licensed mechanics, that can't seem to tighten a bolt without breaking something. We put them in places where they can't hurt things anymore. The stockroom, inspection (!). You get the idea. Knowledge and skill can be utilized without throwing the person away. We all have limitations.

On that same deal, should patients be allowed to sue the pants off doctor's who make mistakes such as that? Part of me says yes, part of me says no.

If they can, then it inspires doctors and hospitals to put up the 'blue wall of silence' and cover things up, make things a mystery so patients don't know what is going on. All for the sake of reducing exposure to liability.

But if patients can't sue, then they may be left with the loss of the ability to work for the rest of their lives, permanent pain or physical limitations, the loss of their very life. Hurting those left behind horribly, emotionally and financially, by their absence.

Medical lawsuits drive up the cost of medicine, and medical care. You'd have to be a fool not to see that. Not just measured in money, but in transparency, and honesty to the patient.

Insurance costs and liability can be a huge issue in my industry too. But we still press forward with trying to be open about things. There are flaws, there are coverups. Perpetrated by individuals, companies, and federal agencies. But I'd like to think we are trying hard not to. I'd like to think we are trying to make people understand more what we do. How it makes things safer, it's just science and technology, people.

I'd like to think Medicine does the same thing. That at least everyone wants to be open, and inclusive.

I tend to wonder though. About both industries.

Cheers, to making a more open and less scary world.

Snapshots From a Revolution Discussed

Well, my "30 Days to Revolution", has become something different, and in the end, more fitting for me, and the style that I seem to love to stubbornly cling to. That being, the uber-short-form.

I don't know if it's my ADD, or what, but I just can't bring myself to write more than one or two pages at a time, on a given specific subject. Now, don't get me wrong, I can work within a general framework. I proved it! See last years "seven deadly sins" series, and the serial I did about the astronaut in the desert a few weeks ago. The former, was seven parts (duh), the latter spanned fourteen chapters. I new personal record.

My intent, with writing about an (attempted?) Second American Revolution, was to write it over thirty days, with thirty installments, reflecting 30 days of actual story progress. Unfortunately, after I wrote the first two, I fell out of love with that concept, hard.

So the group is evolving into more of "Snapshots of a Revolution". Which I'm fine with. I'm actually starting to warm to it.

I can write about some of the typical things I write about, life, death, love, hate. And a few that are a little over the top. Oh, and a little humor. That one is still coming. It involves nuclear weapons, and let's admit it: Everything is funny about nuclear weapons, right?

I still think that I'm going to end up on some government watch list, just for publishing this particular group of pieces.

But, It's not like I'm advocating armed rebellion, or revolution against the existing United States of America. Not necessarily because we don't need one, but because it would be total suicide.

If, and that's a big huge sweaty IF; you could organize such a thing without being infiltrated, and shut down before you even started with a group of the size I talk about here: You would be cut to ribbons in our current over secured society. And I guess that in the end, that's a good thing. I don't want civil war. Especially not in this modern age.

With our current technology, and varied personalities in the military; there would always be enough loyalists to put down any rebellion.

And in the end, my literary rebellion will end badly, as is foreshadowed in the opening stanzas of "We Hang Traitors In These Here Parts".

So call it a cautionary tale. Of what could happen if a rebellion got out of the planning stages, and got ahold of weapons, and bombs, and had an actual plan.

It will still end with their defeat, but the cost would be dire. Both in our national identity, and in people.

I'm certain I will fail in some way to illustrate all of this, but that is my intent.

I was drawn to do this, because of all I saw happening in this country, and abroad. Seeing the Arab Spring, and Occupy Wallstreet; I threw out some comments, and a poem or two about an armed rebellion being the only way to 'git er done'. But that was talking out my ass.

Can Occupy make a difference? In my opinion: No. they will be a footnote, to be learned about, just like the anti war protests were for my generation.

It's sad but true. The money does run this country, whether it's some faceless families behind the scenes as many conspiracies purport; or if it's just what you see on the surface: Multiple corporations, and special interest groups, with money to throw around, one up each other financially, until the common man has no voice.

The power of your voice in government is tied to the money in your pocket. That's just the way it is today.

Come to think of it, that would be one way that the 99 percent could take back the country. By pooling all our discretionary income, and buying our government back.

Beat the bastards at their own game.

Cash talks, guns and bombs will be put down, bullshit walks.

Cheers, to the walking talking bullshit mega machine that is the American people.

The Lone Bone Has Left The Building

Don,  I guess I totally don’t remember that his middle name was Don.  Not surprising, as I wasn’t the most observant youngster, even with people I called friends.

Anyhoo, he’s dead:  Tony Edly.  That's him as I knew him in eighth grade.  And he'll always look like that in my head.

I guess Facebook is good for something.  I get to hear that kind of stuff.

And don’t get me wrong, I’m glad she told me.  Yet another good classmate that I lost touch with in the passage of time. 

I can look back on my yearbooks, and see all the faces.  Some of them I remember well, and fondly.  Some of them I could live without certainly.  A few of them still make me wish I was a kid again, sitting next to them, causing trouble. 

Tony was one of those.

I remember a routine he did in class one day.  I can’t remember for the life of me why he did it. I think it might have been some kind of class assignment handed out by the wonderful ‘hippie’ substitute teacher we had for most of one school year, was it seventh?  eighth grade?  I don’t know. 

Just a sec.  I know where two of my St. Thomas Yearbooks are.  Lemme check.

Yes, the substitute that I remember, was Miss Schoder, pronounced as “Skoder” with a long ‘O’ sound.  She was fun as I remember.

And the thing Tony did in front of the class, was some sort of a western cowboy quick draw routine.  I seem to remember him and Steve Stelzer up there doing it for some reason.  One of them was a robot cowboy, that you’d put a quarter into, and he’d challenge you to a quick draw routine…..it’s coming back to me, sort of.

“First you take your gun, then you take your hat, then you count to three, and then you draw!” 

That was said in a robot cowboy type voice, of course.  One person would pantomime taking the things, and putting them on, then walk all bowlegged away and do the count of three and draw.  And I think the joke was, that one or two different people did the routine with the robot, and then the last person goes, and the robot repeats his speech, but then draws on the count of “one”, and wins. 

It’s kind of foggy.  But as I remember it was hilarious at that age. 

Somewhere along the line, and I can’t remember if it was tied to that skit he did, Tony started calling himself, “Tone The Lone Bone”.  Really really funny stuff.  I hope he wasn’t known as that the rest of his life though, it might be an unfortunate nickname for an adult.

I lived about a block away from him in grade school.  We did stuff pretty often for a time.  Although I don’t remember when that time started, or tapered off.  But it was always good fun.  Rode bikes, had a couple sleepovers, I think. 

He lived with his family, in his grandmother’s house.  His mother was there, as were his two older siblings.  They were all very nice as I remember. 

I had some strong opinions about his grandmother there for awhile, but as I can’t confirm any of it.  I’ll not mention specifics. 

I’ll just say that Tony was a pretty awesome kid, despite things being less than ideal sometimes. 

Just a few minutes ago, I Googled him, and found his Facebook page.  Not too many specifics to non-friends such as me.  I’d friend him, but I don’t think there’d be a response. 

Looks as if he might have been into tech.  Computers maybe.  I hope it went well for him. 

I’m sorry I wasn’t a better friend for him.  I’m sorry I lost track of him.  Along with all the rest of my classmates.  We were a really great class, even the stinkers among us were a hoot.

Of course, that doesn’t mean that I’m going to make close touch with everyone again.  I just can’t lie like that, not even to myself. 

But especially tonight, I’m thinking of them all.  And Tony Edly, the boy who was “Tone the Lone Bone”, once upon a time, and made us all laugh so much:  He’s right there with us still.

Cheers Tony, I got a quarter, wanna draw?

Tony Edly 1970-2012

There is no way I'll ever put Don between those two names.......